Yard Sailors

It's Saturday morning do you smell the sweet sent of possibility in the air? Today is Yard Sale day and today could be the day that I find my Antique's Road Show treasure. Today, I think with anticipation as I get the sleepy kids up and out into the car. Today I will strike it rich like the man from New Hampshire, he was featured last week on the show, he paid a dollar at a local yard sale for an old tin ring. The ring turns out to be a rare 18K gold Cartier cigar-band ring that appraises for over eight thousand dollars.

It's 8:00am, we are in the car, the car is transformed into a pirate ship. We sail through the neighborhoods on high alert, we are on the hunt searching for treasures. We follow a set of signs and drop anchor in a nice neighborhood that's advertising a multi-family yard sale. The kids and I debark, as Captain it is my job to make up a battle plan. I decide that our best tactic will be to walk the neighborhood by foot and see all of the wares before we spend our pieces of gold.

My second in command, the boy they call Dylan, is an amazing yard sailor. He tends to get a lot of things for free. By the time we walk through the neighborhood he has somehow charmed sellers out of 4 huge cookies, a cup of lemonade, and 2 lollipops. I am embarrassed by his greed, yet impressed by his skills of persuasion.

On the trip back to the boat we get a cute Carz themed CD player for Dylan, a few Disney princess items for Alice and a few pieces of Hadley pottery that I will sell on Ebay. We carry our bootie and back to the ship and sail away. We drop anchor a few more times and buy one or two small items. After an hour or so we are all hot and weary from the travel. I steer us back home with a few little trinkets but not the big Antique Road Show treasures that I had hoped for.

We'll have to take down our sails and swab the decks and get the ship ready to sale again next Saturday.

Spastic Plastic Party!

A group of my friends shares a mutual addiction. One of these friends was so addicted that some of us actually talked about staging an intervention. She was bankrupting herself and her family. Her life was becoming unmanageable. However before we could plan the meeting she feel into the depths of her addiction become a dealer. Now she is too far gone. Am I not talking about drugs, booze, or gambling. Something more cunning my friends, more dangerous and brightly colored, I am talking about Tupperware.

Yes Tupperware. It all starts with one little piece. All your friends have one. They all egg you on at parties to join the crowd. One little piece can't hurt right? Wrong! They are so cute and useful. They are like the proverbial potato chip. You eat one and then you eat the bag. We'll let's just say my friend can fill many many trash bags with all of her Tupperware. Her addiction was getting out of control. She came to a cross road where she knew that she had two choices. Go cold turkey, or embrace her addiction and become a Tupperware Consultant.

Needless to say the love of those cute little containers runs deeps, because last night I went to her second Tupperware party as a consultant. The other party guests were our friends. Have I blogged about my friends? They are intelligent accomplished well adjusted women. They pass for normal every time. Well they usually do. When you get them together with cocktails and Tupperware and they all get absolutely scandalous!

She had us competing for Tupperbucks, and fighting like hungry lions over free samples. Do you now about Tupperbucks? Through out the party you earn Tupperbucks and then later in the evening the consultant auctions off older discontinued Tupperware pieces. I would love to pass judgment on their crazy antics, but I was the worst one of all. I got swept up into the frenzy. I was like a crazed grandma at Bingo. I was yelling out and trying to overtly swindle more Tupperbucks anyway that I could. After a few cocktails we were all slap happy perhaps we were high from the bright plastic fumes of brand new Tupperware. After that everything gets a little foggy. All I know is that I spent 20 US dollars on a drink tumbler and then I went a little over the edge and my friend and I pooled our Tupperbucks in order to bid 94 thousand Tupperbucks for a bright yellow phallic symbol (pictured above).

Forget about June Cleaver and the 1950's Tuppreware party! No polite tea and cookies here. We had a drunken bad-assed blast. My friends happily spent hundreds of dollars on their drug of choice and my consultant friend had a successful second party. While I seem to be immune to the allure of the Tupperware itself. I think that I could easily get addicted to the parties.

Only one problem. With there addiction they end up with great useful storage containers. All I got was a hangover and can anyone tell me what the heck this yellow thing is?

Summer Time Blues

On Tuesday Dylan had his last official day of Kindergarten. Now he is a man...No actually now he is crying snuggled on his momma's lap. His little pale legs dangling almost to the floor. He is in his Shark pajama shorts and he is too sad to sleep. I assume that he is missing his classmates and his wonderful Kindergarten teacher. No not my boy. He has passed right over the stages or grief and loss and has moved straight into absurdity. He tells me between sobs that he is crying because summer vacation is only three months long and he has already wasted a half a day doing nothing.

granted the day was cold and rainy and I had to go grocery shopping, but come on. I try to calm the boy down. I tell him that summer will be fun, that the rain won't last forever. He lifts his blond head off of my shoulder and cries. "But, it's already summer and I can only think of three things to do. My summer is wasted!"He throws his head down on my wet shoulder.

I try not to laugh and ask what the three things are. This is what my love has come up with. Go to see grandma, go camping with dad, go to the park. I tell him that they are all great fun things that he can do.

"But summer has like 154 days! What am I going to do for the other 151 Days? Oh summer is almost over and I am only going to do three things!"

Let me tell you what I did. I sat Dylan on his bed. I grabbed a pen and a pad and the boy and I came up with 151 things that we can do this summer. Okay, we came up with about 50 items, but he lost count after about 20 minutes and I told him that the list was up to 151. Some of his ideas were; having his class come sleep over in our yard, go see a real rock concert, go to the toys store to buy lots and lots of things, rent a jump house, and drive a race car. I think considering the financial issues of the day we are going to spend a lot of time at the YMCA pool.

Satisfied with his summer of gratuitous fun and crazy activities he went to bed happy. I on the other hand was up all night . It's summer vacation! Three-months with no school? I'll never survive!

What Ever Happens in Vegas...

In some cultures people predict what a child's vocation will be depending on their childhood interests. Like for example Dylan loves to draw and he loves to build things. Perhaps he'll be an architect on day. A successful well adjusted architect. Which is great for me. Because lately I am pretty sure that his sister Alice wants to be a Las Vegas show girl.

She has been running around the house in alarming new get ups. Two days ago she was only wearing seven necklaces, her silver sparkle princess shoes, and matching crown. No clothes! Not a stitch. She sashayed into the computer room and said. "Hiya Momma!" and shook her little hips and sashayed out.

Yesterday she was wearing the sparkle shoes, her sparkle crowns with purple feathers and carrying a little pink pocketbook. She walked by me in the kitchen and said. "Bye momma, I go out now." I tackled her before she made her way to the side door. Too many of the neighbors have seen her little naked body already. She just hates clothing what is a mom to do?

I did think about tattooing clothes on her. So when she is naked it looks like she is wearing a bathing suit. But that might hurt too much. Body paint? Perhaps not. She could easily wash it off. Perhaps I should continue to do what I have been doing.

I quietly go upstairs to gather her clothing. Then I sneak up on her and have a Monty Python type chase scene though out the house. I chase her all over, up the stairs, around tables and chairs, until finally I tackle her and hold her down. She kicks me and tries to escape and I withstand the blows the best I can. Finally after 30-40 minutes she is tired and I can finally over power her and get her dressed. Then with in five minutes she is naked again. Naked and as of lately naked and over accessorized. Maybe I should just give in and buy her a silver sparkle bikini with tassels and be done with it?

Calling All Hot Momma

Lydia is giving away hot sauce to all of the hot mommas. Listen girls, we need to be proud of ourselves and our achievements. We need to know that we are amazing woman. So what if we don't look perky & twenty anymore. We are gorgeous fierce females! We are raising kids, and cooking meals, and running our families. We are all succeeding in the hardest job that their is. We need to give ourselves credit and heck even admiration. Being a mom is hard work! We need to appreciate ourselves and our fellow mother-sisters.

Are you a hot momma. Are you lit from within with a passion for life? Do you love your life and embrace you self as you are right now? We'll if yes great! If not hey, maybe some free hot sauce will light your fire?

Be the first 7 to tell me why you are hot momma's. Or red hot Dudes or daddies.

I. P. Freely

When I was a kid my father used to tell a joke about a book. The book was titled The Yellow River, by I.P. Freely. Well obviously his granddaughter has read that book because she has been peeing freely all over the yard. The other day my chatty neighbor came over to spread gossip. Alice was chasing the dog around the yard. I look over and see Alice drop her Pull-ups and lift her dress. Then she spreads her little chubby legs and starts peeing on the lawn.

My neighbor and I are up on the porch and my neighbor is facing me thank goodness and not facing Alice. I try to not scream and run onto the yard because I don't want my neighbor to know what's going on. She is the gossiping neighbor that spreads news quick as a sneeze. In fact I keep my face calm hoping that she will not turn around. I don't want the rest of the neighborhood to know that I am the kind of mom who lets her kid pee on the lawn. The fact that my neighbor is seeing impaired is also a relief their is a good chance that she can't see Alice anyway.

Alice yips loudly with delight in her triumph that she is peeing like her brother, she seems thrilled. My neighbor turns and looks in Alice's direction. I ask.

"Can you see well enough to see that?" My neighbor looks horrified and says. "Yup" then turns to face me with a knowing smirk. Yep, me and my daughter I.P. Freely, are the new hot gossip. She quickly excuses herself. No doubt so she can go spread the news.

Another day in paradise.

Strawberry Week

This week Alice and I picked the first strawberries from our garden. I picked the brightest red ones, while she tried to pick the green ones while I screamed and tried to stop her. Some day she'll learn. I love strawberries. Freshly picked and sweet.

Soon we will go strawberry picking at the local farm in Franklin. We only grow a few pints a year. With the birds and all. We'll go out to the field and stuff our faces with the small red fruit. We pick about 1 pound and probably consume about 3 pounds while we pick. If you can keep the kids clean , make sure that you don't return to the farm stand with them covered in red juice. I know that I am going to hell, but I just can't resist them.

Soon the farmer's market opens and then on June 19th is the Franklin Strawberry Festival! I am in heaven!

Eat Strawberries!