Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Act 2

Alert: Make Sure to read "A Scene in the Life" entered earlier today, FIRST.

Let me set the stage: It's about 1225pm and I'm at the stove making macaroni and cheese for me and Kelsie. I'm talking to Rachel on the phone, because she's just read "A Scene in the Life", and I was explaining that bread hadn't been a problem on top of the microwave before and I've only had the toaster oven for 2 weeks. We agree that I need to add that little tidbit into my last blog, because when she read it, that wasn't stated and now it makes slightly a little more sense (as if there really can be any sense to it;) anyway; I get a work related call beeping in. I hang up with Rachel, take my work call, leave the room to email this work caller a statement; then return to the kitchen to call Rachel back and continue making lunch.

Scene 1: Paige is stirring the macaroni and speaking to Rachel.

Scene 2: Paige turns to dump macaroni into the collander and there stands 4 year old Kelsie, looking like the cat who ate the canary and appearing to hide something behind her back.

Paige: "Bye Rachel."
Kelsie: "Hi Mama."
Paige: "What's going on Kels, what have you got behind your back?
Kelsie: "Nothing."

This exchange repeats about 3 times

Finally, Kelsie chuckles

Paige: "OK, Kelsie, I think I know you pretty well..."
Kelsie: (smiles and interjects) "My hair.'
Paige: "Why, what did you do?
Kelsie: (crying) "I'm sorry Mama."

Pan to the floor with a HUGE chunk of hair that Kelsie has just cut off her head.

Paige: "Why, Why did you do this?"
Kelsie: (crying) "I don't know"

OK - How's that for a day for you. Anyone know any Reality producers?? Either I'd better start staying out of the kitchen, or God really is trying to pay me back for that dream. Personally I thought he was too busy worrying about the douchies to care about my dream - but I guess not.
I don't know why I'm so surprised that Kelsie cut about 5 inches of her hair off; I mean this is the same child of mine who shaved off part of her right eyebrow a few months ago. I know; right about now I'm sounding like mother of the year. You must think that I never watch this child, but let me just say in my defense; that #1 - she's fast, I mean really fast, I mean we don't call her "Stitch" for nothing; and so she can just do these things in the blink of an eye (or eyebrow - hahaha) and #2, I'm raising 2 other complacent children who don't shave or cut their hair or anybody elses for that matter; so I must be doing something right...
Ya' know how they say bad things happen in threes? I'm just hoping that I'm not going for a record and you don't see a third blog from me today.

Till next time...

A Scene in the Life:

Let me set the stage: It's about 545am and I am in my kitchen. I've been up working for a half hour (I overslept because I was having this delicious dream about Maks from Dancing with the Stars. G rated - but DELICIOUS!)

Scene 1: Paige is putting mini frozen pizzas in the toaster oven; (yes at 545 am - Nicky and Lyndzi want to take them for lunch.)

Camera pans to top of toaster oven with loaf of cinnamon bread on it.

Scene 2: Paige walks into kitchen and re-sets toaster oven for another 5 minutes.

Camera pans to top of toaster oven with loaf of cinnamon bread on it.

Scene 3. Paige removes mini pizzas from toaster oven and offers children cinnamon bread for breakfast.

Paige: "CRAP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

You got it! I didn't remove the bread from the toaster oven while it was on and the plastic stuck to the top of the toaster oven; etc. Let's hope it didn't really get on the bread that I fed the kids for breakfast anyway. It was nice and warm - though.

Say it with me "Who could make this stuff up?" Honestly, does it help make me seem like less of an idiot if I tell you that I've only had the toaster oven for 2 weeks?? I am truly my own worst enemy. BUT, as I've proven time and time again, I can laugh at myself and I do recognize how incredibly pathetic this is. I just thought that yet again, it would be the PERFECT opportunity for my own reality show. I felt like I was channeling Ozzy Osbourne or something. Couldn't you just see him using the toaster oven, walking away and then the camera pans to the bread adhering and melting on the toaster oven - yeah, me too. Guess that's what I get for dreaming about Maks. I suppose I have to try and keep my dreams to my husband only in order not to damage any more appliances and poison the children - I get it, I get it.

Till next time...

Sunday, January 27, 2008

No Need for Frank Costanza

Disclaimer: This blog may contain a little TOO MUCH personal information.

My feet are the vain of my existence; now there's an opening statement for you.
In almost every way that feet can cause someone a problem, mine do. For starters they are a whopping size 12 PLUS. I say size 12 PLUS, because even my size 12 shoes, do not seem to be fitting me lately, whereas I suspect that a size 12 1/2 would do the trick; (like those are so easy to come by.) Luckily for me, my feet are very narrow, Quadruple A to be exact,so at least I don't have wide and long to contend with, although most shoemakers seem to equate long with wide and many times I only see size 12W; thank you very much. Michelle (Not yet legally) K, has been referring to my feet s "Grinch Feet" for years; because she believes they resemble those of Dr. Seuss' beloved character. As a matter of fact, last night I even heard her address Nicky as "Grinch foot jr." LOL Let's put it this way - My feet are such a spectacle, that right after I gave birth to Nicky; I was still laying on the delivery table and the nurses had taken him to clean him off and do his APGAR, and all of a sudden I hear them say "Whose feet are these?" And in an exhausted, just gave birth for the first time voice, I said "MINE." I mean I hadn't even SEEN his feet yet; but I just knew that if they were comment worthy, they must look like mine.
Anyway, in addition to my increasing foot size, I have; oh this is embarrassing to admit, (but I was born with it, so it's not like it's my fault) a hammer toe on my right foot; and lastly I seem to be beleaguered with in grown toe nails quite often. Don't I sound attractive? Those of you who have never met me are completely grossed out by now I'm sure and those of you who don't know me are probably just shocked that I am willing to humiliate myself in this way, just for the sake of getting a laugh.

So let's move on. Back in the day, when I would go to Vallarta; (the day being when I was single and in my twenties;) my trips would consist of laying out by the pool, shopping, going out to dinner and DANCING, DANCING, DANCING. Suffice it to say that now that I have been married for 13 1/2 years and am the mother of 3; my Vallarta activities have changed slightly; hence our Saturday night activity of Luis, 2 of his sisters and my niece, working on removing my ingrown toe nail. OK, so it went a little something like this. I felt like I had an ingrown toe nail on my right big toe (Not to be confused with my left big toe nail which is getting ready to fall off due to a combination of fungus - I know, I just keep digging myself in deeper; AND the fact that twice I have dropped something heavy on it; so right, get the visual, the upper portion of the nail, is like deadened yellow, and the bottom portion is purplish, black - I'll give you a sec to run to the bathroom and vomit, before I continue.
(Sound of Jeopardy music plays - Doo, do doo, do doo, do do...)
OK, so ingrown toe nail. We're sitting on the porch on Saturday morning and I ask Luis to check and see if one of his sister's has a nail clipper and I tell him about my toe hurting. Surprise, surprise, he doesn't ask; so I go and find one for myself and ask him to help a sister out. He snips a piece off, but we both realized it was going t require a smaller clipper, and he did agree to ask someone if they had one. A few hours later I'm lying upstairs in the hammock, reading a book, and here comes Luis and 2 of his sisters. In Spanish, they are discussing my toe and trying to convince me to go to the Doctor, and let him give me a shot and remove the toenail. Oh Hell to the NO. There is NO way this is going to be happening. You know me; I am the Queen of Fearing Shots. Remember me, Woman who had 3 kids and no epidural or drugs (partly because of my huge fear of SHOTS) like I'M going to agree to this - Hell no. I explained that I didn't think this was as big a problem as they thought it was and that I usually had it taken care of when I got a pedicure. I told them that I thought we could handle this at home. So Luis, my niece and I trotted off to the pharmacy in search of the proper tools and such to cure my problem. Oh, this family was in their glory, let me tell you; they LOVE a project. One sister boiled water for me to soak my toe, then after sufficient soaking, Luis began clipping the nail (I know, you gotta love a man who'll clip your toe nails - and ladies he is all mine!) Anyway, I believe he got all of the ingrown toe nail out, and then my niece went to work. She mixed an Ampicilan capsule with some Bacitracin like ointment, put it on my toe and wrapped my toe in gauze in a way that would have put friggin Florence Nightingale to shame. And voila! My toe was better; and imagine that; I didn't even need a shot.

SO, now, let's fast forward a couple of weeks and it is now just the other night and my friend Jenny and I go to get pedicures. A few months ago, we found a place by my house and we really like it. It's nothing fancy; but they take competitors coupons, and you know how much I get a rush out of having a coupon. Also, they are really nice. EVEN with the state of my feet - I hardly ever feel like they are talking about me. So Jenny and I are driving over and I warned her that my left toe nail was just about ready to come off and that I thought this was going to be gruesome on many different levels. I did tell her that I was sure that it was just a blog waiting to happen; and yah, heck yah, I was NERVOUS!
SO I get the gentleman pedicurist that I never had before, and before he could take my polish off, I warned him about my left big toe. He removed the polish, and of course it was just as beautiful as we expected. He put my foot back in the water and began to take the polish off my right foot; and as he's working on my big toe, he says "Who did this to you?" Referring to my mutilated nail, I'm sure. So I said "Well, it's a long story," and I just told him that I'd had an ingrown toe nail while I was on vacation and my husband tried to fix it for me. He seemed relieved that I wasn't blaming it on a previous trip to his shop. I don't know about you normal feeted people, but whenever I am getting a pedicure; I feel the need to apologize; A LOT. So I'm doing my usual, "I'm so sorry, I know my feet are ugly, gross etc, etc;" (I mean between the fungus/dead nail, the mishapen nail, and the healing blisters which make my feet look like they have acne) I mean who wouldn't apologize?? So then what happens... he starts speaking in Vietnamese, (Big Surprise!) But in a low murmur. I said "Excuse me, are you talking to me?" To which he replied "No, I'm talking to her." Indicating the pedicurist who was working on Jenny. I asked if he was telling her how bad my feet were and he said "Why should I have to tell her when she can see what I'm working on?" OH MY GOD, dissed by the pedicure man - it was so funny, I just had to laugh, and laugh; because I know he meant it in the nicest way that someone could mean something like that. Just like the time I asked the Vietnames woman who used to cut my hair if she thought I should cut my hair short adn she said "No, becasue then you will have a little head on a big body." Why do people feel compelled to say these things to me?? LOL Anyway, the woman working on Jenny went on to say "You know,if someone had clean feet; they wouldn't come here. They come because they need their feet cleaned up." I thought this too was very nice. See, no need for Frank Costanza at this pedicure place. LOL Remember that "Seinfeld" episode when Elaine took George's dad to the pedicure place because he spoke Vietnamese (from when he was in the war;) and she wanted to see if the pedicurists were talking about her and they said "where is his tail;" and he lost it, and busted them for what they said and they accused Elaine of bringing in a spy... Too funny. Well no need for Frank Costanza here. These pedicurists tell you like it is to your face; and I respect that. HAHAHA - only me.
Anyway, I'm sure your curiosity is getting the better of you so let me conclude by telling you that the left nail was NOT ready to come off or be removed; Hallelujah! So I have saved myself that pain and embarrassment for a little while. My pedicure man said that it will come off on its own and then it won't hurt - I sure hope he's right; but at the very least it will give me a whole other blog; I'm sure.

Till next time...

Monday, January 21, 2008

A Blessing In Disguise...

OK, it's official; I am a soccer mom!!
Beyond the fact that my family goes to soccer practice for an hour and a 1/2 on Tues, an hour on Wed and an hour and a 1/2 on Thursday; games on Saturday that last an hour plus a 1/2 hour of practice prior too; besides for the time that I'm putting in with that - I'm a soccer mom because I LOVE IT!!

I'll admit it; I'm TOTALLY addicted. During soccer season I live for Saturdays; and if there's a double header I am in my glory. I actually considered postponing my vacation for a day so that my kids could play their soccer games, but Luis put the kaboosh on that big time. Yeah, I'm totally one of those loud, embarrassing moms that tries to encourage their kid as well as the team. I cheer for all the kids and the team as a whole. Go Ethen, Yeah Andrew, Go SHOCKERS! Go Dragons!

This is Nicky's second year playing soccer and he was lucky enough to get on a wonderful team; with a fabulous coach (of course he got on that team AFTER there was an incident over his placement; because hey you know me - I'm the Queen of INCIDENTS, and nothing ever runs as smoothly as it should. Yes, the registrar in her infinite wisdom put my 3 kids on teams that practiced at the same time in 2 different places. Well, ya know I wasn't having that; and after I let them know that this just wouldn't be possible; they moved Nicky onto the Shockers and now all is right with the world. Other than WT (see previous blog "Here We Go Again - Oct. 11, 2007) I love everyone on the team and all of their parents. Oh yeah, and by the way, after my little conversation with WT, coincidentally she and her child didn't come to practice for 6 weeks and they've only come 2 1/2 times beyond that. HMMMM - was it something I said; like "I'm Jewish" - I wonder. Ironically enough Coach Russell is Jewish too and get this; he comes from the same county in NY that I come from; but he moved here when he was 5. I love Coach Russell, he's like another brother for me; in fact he could be Mine and Schmooley's long lost brother.

OK so let's round the bend here. So the Shockers are having a fabulous season and it has been really exciting to watch. Even Michelle (Not yet legally) K came to oneof the Shockers games last weekend after her son' soccer game. Nicky scored his first goal about a month ago and he was over the moon. Lyndzi on the other hand averages about 4 goals a game, but then again their field is about the size of a twister board - haha just kidding - but it is small. Lyndzi can pretty much score a goal with one kick from the center of the field, and I heard her coach (coach Bob) say, "we're going to have to make this field bigger just for Lyndzi. Coach Bob is a sweetie. Lyndzi played on his team last year and he came back to coach again, even though he hasn't had a kid in the league for 2 years. Get your minds outta the gutter - he's a nice guy and he's still on the board which is why he'd coach a little kids team when they aren't his kids; but the point is - because he knew Lyndzi he had kicked the ball around with Kelsie last year and he agreed to let her play this year even though she wasn't old enough. Kelsie looks really cute in her uniform and she's good at chasing the ball, she's just not so interested in kicking it. Anyway, Dragons or Shockers, I am always LOUD and PROUD!!

So I've been sick for almost 6 weeks now. I've come to find out it's a sinus infection which is no big surprise because I pretty much always have a sinus infection. Really I think about now I am Queen of SINUS INFECTIONS - not something that one should aspire to be, but I feel well qualified for the position now, so I'll accept the title. Anyway, this sinus infection has given me a lovely cough that will not go away, no matter what I've tried and believe me I've tried just about everything. I had laryngitis on Christmas eve day due to all the coughing, and cured that with a little homeopathic remedy of my mother in laws. I was actually willing to wait to try it because I know me having laryngitis is Luis' favorite Christmas present (it happened 2 years ago and I've never seen the man happier.) But his mom was anxious ot help so by Christmas night my voice was back - fast forward a few weeks and this past Friday night I start losing my voice. Perhaps having to shout in a restaurant/dance place contributed to my illness but come Sat morning, yup - no voice.

As we rode to soccer I whispered to Luis; in my best pouty whisper, "This just isn't fair. How am I gonna cheer for our team if I don't have a voice?" I was very dejected. I even told my friend Monica that she would have to cheer for Nicky or tell him to move his butt or whatever I felt the need to say to him. Now you have to keep in mind that Monica is from Venezuela and though she speaks perfect English, she has a pretty thick accent; so it went something like this "Ahh, Come on Nick; MOVE!! Your Mama said so!" - trailed off by "don't hate Monica." Now as luck would have it, we were losing, we were losing bad, and Nicky was putting in NO EFFORT what so ever which pissed me off because I had to get up at 615 to get them all to the field by 730 because both the Shockers & the Dragons had 8 o'clock games this week. So if I had to get up, being sick, get them all ready and freeze my butt off; hell ya - he'd better be moving his.
So maybe my laryngitis was a blessing in disguise. It spared my child from his mom behaving badly, and spared me from another journal entry in his Mommie Dearest Diary, and it's just one less thing for him to have to discuss in his therapy (No, not now, - years from now when he's convinced that I've ruined his life - yup, I'm aiming high.) Every time I do something questionable where my children are concerned I just think to myself - yup, that's another therapy session right there.
Till Next time...
Queen of the Soccer Mom's

Sunday, January 6, 2008

What's in a name?

When I first started writing this blog, I made the conscious decision not to use the names of my family members. Thinking about it now; I can't remember why I made that decision, other than it having something to do with my fantasy that "The Bumpy Ride" would be read far and wide; and then the distinct possibility would exist that I might piss somebody off, in which case my families anonymity would be paramount. Ha Ha Ha.
So now we're in present day and I think it's safe to assume that my 8 readers - LOL all know my family members names; so from here on out I will refer to them as: Luis -my husband, also sometimes known as Eb (short for Ebenezer - need I say more...) or Ricky during my most Lucy-esque stories. My 8 1/2 year old son Nicolas,(aka Nicky) my 6 year old daughter Lyndzi and my 4 year old daughter, Kelsie (sometimes referred to as Stitch - yes, as in Stitch from Disney's "Lilo and Stitch" - again, need I say more?) I mean Queen of Over thinking that I am - you HAVE to know that I gave MORE than a great deal of thought and consideration to my children's names; so by all means, I should use them.
For instance, I wanted to name my son Noah. I was looking for a boy name that started with the letter N so that I could name him after my Grandfather Nathan. I LOVED the name Noah (and contrary to what Big V may think, it had nothing to do with Rick Springfield and GH - though would that be so bad?) Anyway, Luis was CERTAIN that his family (all residing in Mexico) would call him No-a. I myself didn't think that a short A sound should be that difficult for them; but he was adamant. I remember telling him, "OK, we'll make his middle name Jose and then they can call him No-A Jose." And for those of you who might not have picked up on my phonetic break down; it would be No Way Jose.
OK so we passed on Noah and decided on Nicolas instead; and in the meantime, my sister-in-law gave birth to Vladamir. That's right, you read that correctly; and yes they live in Mexico and NO they are not Russian, and guess what... No one has any trouble calling him Vlady (except me, because it's just weird) and now, we are awaiting the birth of my brother-in-law's son, Axel in May. Hmm, no short A in either of those names huh?? Luis says that we can change Nicky's name, but I think at 8 1/2 that ship has sailed. Aahh Well...

Luis is one of six children. His oldest sister is named Josefina (though she's only ever called Pina or cheppy. According to Luis, his older brother's name is Jose Guadalupe. Luis' given name is Jose Luis, and then there is Ignacio (Nacho), Alicia and Erika. Now although his given name is Jose Luis; in the 14 years that we have been together; I have NEVER heard anyone in his family call him Jose or even Jose Luis. It is ALWAYS Luis, and only Luis and same goes for his older brother - they call him Lupe or his wife calls him Guadalupe, but NEVER Jose Guadalupe or Jose. (Maybe I could call one of my Lisa's Jose instead of one of the Vietnamese names I chose, since Jose isn't really being used - haha) Anyway, when I fill out papers for Luis, I always put his first name as Jose Luis and then no middle name; but when he fills them out he puts Jose as the first and Luis as the middle. It has been the topic of many of our conversations as I have maintained that unlike George Foreman, his mom did not name 3 of her 6 children Jose. I have assured him that Jose Luis is his first name just as a woman's name might be Mary Ann; but he disagrees.
Now I don't know why I haven't thought of this before, but on our drive home to Puerto Vallarta, I told Luis "While we're home, we're going to ask your mom about your name." He laughed and said "OK." So one day we were having breakfast and I urged him to ask his mom about his name; and guess what... the Queen was right - Surprise! Surprise! Luis' first name is Jose Luis and NO middle name; to which my 37year old husband said "I didn't know that." Well allow me to introduce you to yourself - You are Jose Luis Ramos. Of course he will be having an embarrassing little chat with his HR department when he returns to work.

So, with one win under my belt; I decided to press my luck and while we were at Lupe's for lunch, I asked Luis to ask Lupe about his name. Luis once again was SURE that Lupe thought his first name was Jose and his middle was Guadalupe and I of course, feeling extremely confident, maintained that Jose Guadalupe was his first name; so imagine Luis' surprise when he found out that Lupe's given name was actually Lisa - ha ha just kidding, it's actually, just Guadalupe. Jose was used in his baptism but was no where to be found on his birth certificate - no wonder Luis has trouble remembering our kids names - Just kidding; he knows their names, he just forgets how to spell them. Say it with me "Who can make this stuff up?"
Till next time... Paige Karen Howell Ramos