Family

My sis and I got together on Saturday for food, general teasing of son number 2 (Casey), manicures and shopping. The food was great, teasing Casey was fun. The manicures? Well, that was a bit scary. My manicurist (is that what they're called?) had warts on her hands and she left me with a few open cuticles so now I'm on wart watch. I've never had one, and don't plan to start now...

Casey gave us an update on the saga, with more details than Mommy wanted to know. You'll be happy to learn that I was right on how Cameron would take the whole thing. It was his get out of jail free card and Casey got out of the whole thing unscathed.

Last, we went to the mall. We'd just left Victoria's Secret and heard a payphone ringing. I dared my sis to answer it and say (in a strange voice), "Whattup Bitch?"



That must have stunned the person on the other end into silence.

Then another phone in that kiosk started ringing. So again, my sis answered it the same way.

Eventually, it went all the way around the kiosk, and all phones were answered properly.



Sometimes my sis would ad lib, but mainly kept to the script that was provided to her.

It occured to me that if we didn't have some place to go, and our feet weren't hurting, we could have been kept busy for hours.

.....because we're like that you know.

I got a call from my youngest son (he's 21) last night. The one who had the pen cap surgically removed. After that phone call, I'm wondering if part of his brain was removed too.

The phone call starts innocently enough; the "how are you" and "I'm fine" stuff. "Yeah, work is going well, blah blah blah". Then this; "Mom, I feel really bad about something."

At the speed of light, I'm flashing thoughts in my head; "he hit a dog with his car", "he lost his job", "he got another pen cap stuck up his nose". I was prepared for any of it. I wasn't prepared for the following conversation.

Casey (son #2): Do you know if Cameron (son #1) and Camerong (son#1's girlfriend) are broken up?
Me: Well, Cameron did call me a couple of nights ago and told me that he's thinking about it. But, that's not for me to tell you. You should ask him. Why do you want to know? (thinking, that's why he feels really bad. He's sad that Cameron and Camerong aren't doing well... how sweet!)
Casey: Well something happened between me and Camerong last night.
Me: (thinking uh- oh.... I'm not liking where this is headed...)
Me: What do you mean sweet boy? (yeah, that's what mommy calls him... get over it.)
Casey: Well, without going into detail; alcohol, hot tubs, and Camerong was involved. Oh, and she had her top off. I feel really bad.
Me: Am I to assume that you were involved in this scenario somehow? (still trying to keep Casey innocent in my mind.)
Casey: Yes. We were kissing and stuff. I feel really bad, and I think Cameron is going to beat the crap out of me.
Me: (thinking about how maybe she wasn't so wrong afterall with her initial and subsequent impressions of Camerong)
Me: I think you'd better fess up to your brother.
Casey: I'm just waiting for the right time.
Me: (snickering to herself... good luck in that one, sweetie pie...)

I'm not overly concerned that Cameron is going to be too upset with Casey. They're best friends. Casey happens to have a habit of collecting Cameron's ex-girlfriends. Kinda gross if you ask me. Cameron was telling me a couple of nights ago that he's not sure he wants to be with Camerong anymore and feels really guilty about it. I'm thinking this is a "get out of jail free" card.

I wanted to tell Casey to save the drama for his mama, but......

I was watching baseball (ok, I wasn't really watching, I really dislike sports...) and was reminded of a story about my youngest son. This happened when he was about 7 and playing in little league, which was 14 years ago.

I had taken him to the doctor for yet another infection of some sort. He'd been plagued with sinus, eye and lung infections from the time he was about two. He also had lots of headaches and HORRIBLE, NASTY breath. During this visit, the doctor was looking up his nose and said that he saw something up there. He got some tweezer-like instrument and started tugging on it. It wouldn't budge, plus it really was hurting my son, so he stopped and scheduled surgery for the next day.

I was not prepared for what the doctor would tell me after surgery. My son had a bic pen cap up his nose. Have you seen a bic pen cap? They're at least an inch long! Worse, it looked as if it'd been up his nose for YEARS. There I was, cradling my unconscious little 7 year old in my lap and I started laughing. I laughed so hard that tears were falling down my face. I'm sure the doctor thought I was a nutcase. But do you blame me? What kid has to go under general anesthesia to get a pen cap removed from his nose? MY KID, that's who!

His older brother then remembered the day that said pen cap went up the nose. They went to work with their dad and were messing around. My youngest was probably almost three. He shoved it up his nose so far that he couldn't get it out, and they were both afraid to tell their dad for fear of getting in trouble.

So, the thing worked its way up into his sinus cavity, causing all the infections and bad breath over those 5 years. FIVE YEARS! It took being beaned by a softball in his nose that brought the thing down far enough for the doctor to see it. Interestingly enough, all the infections (and bad breath) stopped immediately once the cap was removed.

The doctor kept that pen cap for his museum of things he's removed from people's orifices, and I kept the memory of the surprised look from my son's doctor as I was laughing hysterically in the recovery room.

This is a very public letter to my brother; the most recent addition to my blog viewers.

I've been thinking about why I was so prompted to call you on Tuesday evening. I told you the weird circumstances that lead up to it, and why sis and I thought *it* happened. I was glad to hear that you were all right. Well, physically anyway.

When you called me Wednesday after reading my blog for the first time, the reason for needing to call you seemed much more clear to me. You sounded so light hearted when we talked on Wednesday; vastly different than the brother I talked to on Tuesday. You told me that you were laughing out loud while reading some of my posts. Perhaps that prompting to call you wasn't any national emergency, but just the fact that I needed to send a little laughter your way.

You've shared with me before that I always know how to make you laugh. I'm so glad. You and "sis" are two people that I'd do anything for. You're my heart. You both are. If you ever feel alone, just know that you're very special to me. You and sis, my first loves,..... my family.

Now... back to my regularly scheduled blogging...

My husband and I went to see my parents this weekend. He hasn't seen them since Christmas, and he wasn't even their son-in-law at that time. Lot's has happened since we have seen them (ummm, marriage for one). The drive to the coast is lovely and we chose a really cool place to stay.

I've had a long history of issues with my mother. I'd say the most descriptive word I could choose for my mother is "judgmental". Maybe I can thank her for the fact that I'm so non-judgmental. Maybe I wouldn't be this person I am today if she weren't so judgmental.

In the beginning, the visit wasn't so bad. My husband is so great. He's definately the guy any parent would love to have their daughter marry. Great manners, never swears (in front of my parents anyway!), polite, laughs at everyone's jokes. Yep, he's pretty darned perfect. We met them for breakfast, not too many problems, except for the fact that my mother waited almost 20 minutes to get a box to place her leftover 1.5 pancakes for their dog.

My husband, dad and brother decided to watch college football. I took a nap (2 hours!) and my mother was on her computer making a flyer for church. Her printer was acting up, so she kept calling my dad in to help her. Even though it's something I could have figured out in no time at all, I didn't offer to help. She didn't ask, and frankly I didn't want to be alone in a room with her.

We had dinner and she did another one of her annoying things. She has a problem if someone doesn't like what she likes. She just doesn't get it that people have different tastes. Example: she likes grapes on her salad.

She asked my husband: Do you like grapes?
Husband:yes
Mom: You should put grapes on your salad like me
Husband: I don't think I'd like that
Mom: You should try it
Husband: That's ok
Mom: you won't know if you like it if you don't try it
Grrrrr

Election talk:

Mom: So, did you vote?
Me: No, but guess what? We're both democrats... we cancel out yours and dad's vote (I was joking... but...)
Mom: (huffy) Anybody who would vote for John Kerry is stupid
Me: Let's not talk politics Mom
Grrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Everyone goes back to what they were doing before dinner. Boys watching football, me playing solitaire on my phone, Mom complaining that her computer isn't working.

My mother calls my dad in every 10 minutes or so to come help her. BJ is looking at me because he knows full well that I could fix it. I try to ignore. REALLY, I didn't want to be alone with her!

Finally, I felt bad enough for my dad that I went in and saved the day. Yeah, I fixed everything. But, my payment? The following conversation:

Mom: I really need to talk to you about John Kerry
Me: I REALLY don't want to talk about this with you Mom
Mom: You can't just blindly vote democrat. This guy is scary and I need to tell you why
Me: Mom, I don't want to insult you, but (thinking in my head that I just didn't want to hear her judgmental slant on things, then thought better of it.) Let's change the subject.
Mom: So, you were telling me about the movie, "The Villiage" saying I'd like it. Why?
Me: Well, it's a villiage of people who lived in the puratanical days. No swearing, everyone respected their elders, no drinking, no smoking
Mom: Yeah, I'd like to live there
Me: (Here's where I should have kept my big yapper shut) I'd hate it. I'd be bored out of my mind.
Mom: Why?
Me: No stimulation.
Mom: Why, because people couldn't swear or drink? (ok, I'm paraphrasing, but that was the basic intent of her statement)
Me: No (arrrgh.... why didn't I keep my mouth shut?), it's because I'd have no internet. Besides, people weren't given choices.
Mom: I think the world should be like that. I don't like swearing. I don't like R rated movies (and on and on and on.) I don't like it that it lives in my brain for hours after I hear it.
Me: But Mom, you DO live in this world. You can choose to allow yourself to get upset when you hear these things, or choose to ignore it. I do not get upset be swearing unless people are swearing directly at me. It does not live in my brain. It goes in one ear and out the other.
Mom: That's just sad. It should bother you.
Me: I think you need to ignore it. I think you dwell on it too much. I think you wait for an opportunity to hear it so you can say something about it. (I can't believe I said that, even though I've been thinking it for YEARS. )

The conversation went downhill from there. Thankfully, I got her computer fixed in the nick of time and my hubby walked in saying he was tired and ready to go. Perfect timing, if you ask me.

Here's the love part:

I love my husband. He let me vent all the way to the hotel. He bought some wine. We drank it. We lit a fire in our room and just cuddled. He didn't say anything bad about my mother (good idea!)

And finally, the cop part:

On the way home today, we were speeding a bit. BJ looks in the rear view mirror. There he saw the flashing blue and reds. Yup. We were caught.

Cop: Are you in a hurry to get somewhere?
BJ: Nope
Cop: Well, I'm sure you were surprised to see me. Probably just as surprised as the mustang in front of you when you almost drove into his trunk
Lori: Mouth kept shut, even though I wanted to say, "Yeah, but that mustang had just cut us off!"
BJ: Silence
Cop: Well, do you think you should slow it down a little?
BJ: Yes, sir, I do
Cop: Ok, well, I'll just give you a warning. But you need to slow down
BJ: Yes sir. Thank you.

If it were me in the same scenario? I'd of made some bizzare story of why I was speeding, and I would have told the cop about the mustang cutting me off. And I would have cried and stuff. And, I probably would have received a ticket.

I married a smart man.