Really Disgusting

Spike, my 13 year old son, was away at camp for a week.  He just came home and I did his laundry.  There was a total of two pair of dirty underwear:  one pair in his bag, and one pair that he took off before his shower.  Two pair.  In a week.  He says he “forgot” to change them. 

This will get better, right??

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I Guess I AM the Only One Who’s Normal…

If you’ve been reading my blog for a while, or if you know me IRL (in real life), you are aware that friendship means a lot to me.  I take pride in being a good and loyal friend and I value those people who feel the same.  I have several good friends, and they’re all so different and unique, and I love that about them.  But lately I’ve been realizing a little more clearly that each friend has a quality about them that I would characterize as “strange”, or “weird”.  Nothing that would be a friendship-breaker, mind you.  Just something about them that makes me a little crazy, something that makes me stand back and say, “Hmmm…”

There’s the friend that is constantly worried that her kids are going to be “snatched”.  She won’t even let her kids play in their own backyard, which is not visible from the street, by the way, without being right there every minute.  When we go somewhere, she looks for all the ways a child-snatcher could escape with her child.  She has a hard time letting others watch her children, because she’s always convinced that they won’t watch for kidnappers as well as she would.  I love this friend dearly, and don’t love her any less for having this little quirk, but sometimes I do think it’s a little nuts.

Then there’s the friend who never calls me, despite how close we’ve always been.  But when I call her, she claims that she’s been thinking and wondering about me for days or weeks.  She hasn’t called, of course.  But she’s been thinking about me.  LOVE love love her, but ya know…a little weird.

I have a friend that doesn’t ever change the way she does things, no matter where she is or who’s around.  A whole group of girls watching a movie??  Well, she always watches movies in complete darkness, so she gets up and turns off the lights, without asking everyone else’s preferences.  Going out to eat with a bunch of people?  She never ever eats outside…sorry!  It’s an inside table for us.  A friendship-breaker?  Of course not!!  But a bit crazy.

Another friend asks me over often to hang out, but never offers me anything to eat or drink when I’m there.  Even once, I went over and taught her to make one of my favorite meals, and then we ate it together, but I finally had to ask for a glass of water because she never thought to give me something to drink with my food.  She also added seasoning to some of her food that she never offered to me as well.  Another weird thing is that when this friend comes to my house, she often reaches into her purse and pulls out a packet of candy or some other snack and proceeds to eat it all on her own.  I love her to pieces, but how insane is that?

One friend finishes your sentences with you as you speak.  Another friend has very strange shopping and laundry habits.  (She soaks everything five times before she washes it, and she hangs everything on hangers to dry so they won’t be ruined…even pajamas!!)  Someone else winks at you often during a conversation.  Everyone has their own little quirks…those things that make us all who we are.  And don’t think I’m criticizing or finding fault…I’m really not at all.  Like I said, it’s not that I mind these things.  I just think they’re funny, and different than how I do things myself.  They just make me pause and think, that’s all. 

But then I started thinking about what makes me “weird”, and honestly I couldn’t think of anything.  I mentioned this to Sarge, and told him that I guess I wouldn’t know it was weird or I wouldn’t do it, and he agreed.  But he couldn’t come up with much for me, either.  A friend says I say “Dude” a lot, but I think that just comes from having a thirteen year old son.  I’m not sure it’s something that would qualify me as being strange exactly.  So I’m really curious now.  I know I’m not the only normal person on the planet.  That in itself would make me strange!  So I wonder what it is…what quirks do I have?  What makes me a little strange?  What about me makes others a little crazy?  Seriously…I want to know.

And while you’re at it, what are your quirks?

An Award With Dancing

I’m not sure if I have major writer’s block, or if life has just been a little crazy and busy, but I’ve been terrible about updating this blog.  I have very little to add today, actually, as my two oldest kids are at week-long camp and my husband is off in Texas, and 5-year-old Goo and I are taking full advantage of our time to do a whole bunch of fun stuff.  So far this week, we’ve played miniature golf, gone to the local “splash park”, and wandered through the toy store.  Today, we’re off to see Wall-E. 

I do, however, want to acknowledge a really great award I got earlier this week from a blogger that is on my short list of people I’d love to hang out with IRL. Stella writes a great blog, so if you haven’t already, go check it out. Pretty please?? Anyway, she so graciously gave me this lovely award:

Thanks, Stella!!

Thanks, Stella!!

I’ll pass it on to someone later.  I haven’t read blogs in a week, and I have some catching up to do this weekend, so I’ll do it after that, mmmkay??
On another note, my five year old son Goo loves to dance.  I mean, loves to dance.  I can’t decide if he’s too “white boy”, or if there’s hope.  Opinions??  Dancing Goo

I Don’t Get It Either…

Okay, so Maria (you all know Maria, right?) posted today about her strange crushes, and I couldn’t help it.  I had to ‘fess up.  I have a strange crush, too.  I actually may have alluded to it once before on my old (some of you read my old blog, too, but you don’t know that was me!  Email me if you want more info!) blog, but I’m coming out with it for sure now.

So there’s this guy.  He’s semi-famous, with an unusual job, and a bunch of crazy friends.  So, well, okay…he’s on tv.  He’s on a tv show.  I used to watch it.  I used to DVR it and watch religiously, actually.  I don’t anymore, unless I just happen to be flipping through and catch it on.  And if I do, I just have to wait until they show this guy.  I don’t know what it is about him.  He’s just…you know…crush-worthy.  To me, at least.

Okay, here goes.

The show is Miami Ink. The guy? Chris Garver. I know, I know! He’s bald. And covered in tattoos. He’s just sort of ordinary-looking. But those dimples! And his life experiences…travel and such, I mean. I don’t know. He just gets to me. Crazy, I know.

So cute!!

So cute!!

So what about you? Who’s your crazy crush??

Nineteen

Remember when you were nineteen years old?  All of us were at a different place.  Some of us, maybe, were in the party phase, drinking with friends and staying up all night.  Some of us were already working hard in a blue-collar job, trying to make it on our own for the first time.  Some of us were studying for college exams and deciding what we wanted to be when we grew up.  I started early…at nineteen I was already engaged, working at a college degree that I would never get, looking for the next step in my life.  Wherever you were, chances are that at nineteen, you were learning huge lessons, full of hope and dreams and a few disillusions about what life is about.  You were young and confident and scared and excited about the many years you had ahead of you to make something happen.  To live your life.  To build your dreams.

Think about it.  Nineteen.  Where were you?  What were you doing?  Just think about it for a second.

A few days ago, we received word that the remains of Private Byron Fouty, an Army soldier from here in Michigan who had been missing in Iraq since March 12, 2007, were found.  Maybe you heard about it on the news.  But then again, maybe you didn’t.  It was barely mentioned on some local channels.  One little blurb about a hero found and they were on to news of the latest Hollywood marriage.  It seems so strange.  Here was this soldier…this kid…out doing his job one day, wearing his camouflage and boots, talking to his buddies, fighting for his country, carrying a gun and wearing body armour in the dirty streets of Iraq, and he was never heard from again.  Gone.  Lost.  Missing.  He was nineteen.  Nineteen!

We have gotten to know some of Byron’s family since this horrible event occurred fourteen months ago, and have prayed and worried and wondered alongside them.  My husband Sarge is involved with them in an official military capacity and has had the chance to learn about this young soldier, to see pictures and hear stories about his childhood and to meet all the friends and family that he left behind.  At some point soon, we will go to a memorial or a funeral and hear even more about Byron…who he was and what his family will miss about him and why they are so proud. 

And I will cry.  I will cry for the parents who will never see their son fulfill his dreams.  I will cry for the nephew who will never meet his uncle.  I will cry for the friends who will never hang out with him again, laughing and making memories.  I will cry for all the people who never got to tell Byron how much he meant to them.  But most of all, I will cry for that nineteen year old who was full of hope and dreams and big things to come.  I will cry for the nineteen year old who had the courage to fight in a war that most people don’t support, and who gave his life so that they can hold that opinion openly.  I will cry for a life cut short.  I will cry for the man that will never be.

He may have been only nineteen, but he did more with his life than many of us ever will.  Thank you, Byron.

                                                         

Happy, Happy Birthday!

There are times when it seems that only yesterday, my little Goo was a baby and I was overwhelmed with going from two kids to three.  Then there are other times that it seems we’ve had this sweet little boy in our lives forever, and we can’t remember what it was like before he was here.  It’s his birthday today.  He’s five.  My baby boy is five.

Goo, I love you.  Happy, happy birthday.  You were a surprise to us, but God knew just what He was doing.  You make me smile every day, and I love you so much.