West Texas Mama

As we near the end of the year, we have a tendency to rehash the past months, or make huge plans for the upcoming ones.  I've spent this past week trying to simply stay in the moment.  As a working mom, I don't often have such extended time to spend with my family, and it seemed to me the best thing I could do was soak up as much of them as I could. Time has been spent baking and cooking, watching movies, playing games, putting together a puzzle, going to the movies.  Laughing, cuddling, napping, and just generally trying to make memories.   Today, we've packed in a trip to a well-regarded bbq joint, Evie Mae's.  It's the best brisket in Lubbock.....high praise from me, as I happen to live with one of the best meat-smoker's in the state.  As an amateur smoked meat connoisseur, I can tell you that the brisket is divine.  The turkey  is phenomenal.  El Hubbo has them beat on pulled pork.  (And, just so you know, I do believe El Hubbo is pretty close in t

Little Sunshine still believes in Santa.  Number One Son puts on a good act, but I think he is doing so just to let us have a little more fun. Emma was highly concerned about the lack of appearance of our Elf, Fideo.  Every morning the first week of December she searched the house looking for the little trouble-maker, but to no avail.  Finally, her father remembered and managed find him and set him out.  But then he didn't move for a couple days and she began to ask what was wrong with him.  We completely fail as parents.  So, I set him up one morning wrapped in a blanket next to a big bottle of Ibuprofen and a thermometer.  I felt pretty good about my recover, and Emma was partially relieved and partially concerned about Fideo's health. The next day, Fideo and his new-found frog friend got into the candy bowl.  So, he is obviously on the mend. When we recently told her we would take her to see Santa at the mall, she told us, "THAT is not the real Santa.  That is jus

I find myself flinching when I see either of my children's Bible class teachers practically leaping over pews to catch me.  From about three pews away they drop the normal lead-in, "You HAVE to hear this...." You've read my blog.  You know my children.  This couldn't possibly turn out well.  Especially in church. I sigh, resigned to my fate, and say, "Which one are you teaching this quarter?" I then find out if it is the boy or girl child which will continue to disparage my good name. Most recently, it was Little Sunshine.  Her teacher stopped me with the usual lead-in and then proceeded to tell me the following: "We were studying I Corinthians 12 and talking about how each member of the church has an important role.  We talked last week about how an eye cannot be an ear or a hand a foot, each has an important job with our bodies and all together it is stronger.  So, I was reviewing the lesson, and I said, What if our preacher decided he d

There are things my friends from the north will never be able to fully appreciate.  One of those things is the satisfaction of growing your very own cooking staple:  jalapenos.  We Texans love our jalapenos.  They can go in almost anything.  I spend so much money on jalapenos for various recipes that I decided this year I would grow my own. The kids have been fascinated.  They report daily on the plants' progress, tallying the totals for each plant and letting me know if some of the jalapenos are turning red, which is a little past the prime of their use for my cooking. Little Sunshine was giving me her report and brought in a few jalapenos one night.  She showed me they were red and asked what I wanted her to do with them.  I told her thank you, and that I was not in need of jalapenos at just that moment, so why not put them in the kitchen. She skipped away, and I did not give it another thought.  El Hubbo hollered at her that it was time to take her shower.  She skipped b

I lay here in multi-splendored glory, pondering those things that make a marriage work.  This past week has been a prime example of many of the concepts that I believe make it work:  support, willingness to be used, allowing your OCD to be aggravated by new toys. In less positive news, my in-laws were in a very scary accident as they left their hometown.  It would seem a youngster with a rather large truck with a reinforced bumper (extremely common in our neck of the woods) failed to yield the right-of-way as he rushed to his destination point.  Fortunately, my father-in-law saw him coming and was able to minimize the t-bone impact, but it left my in-laws very bumped, bruised, and bloody and with an unexpected trip to the ER.  They were released and continue to recover, and will eventually be alright, but understandably the family was scrambling as we worked out a plan to take care of everything. My very minor role was to drive to a town about 45 minutes away (with kids in tow) and

Lately I have felt much older than my actual age.  Life can sometimes be hard.  Stress takes it's toll.  Things happen.  Years pile on. This is apparently not how El Hubbo has felt.  Living in a world where one is youthful and exuberant with rainbows and lollipops is what he prefers. I may have remedied that with a big ol' dose of reality. Our dinner conversation: Me:  "Hey, the other day when I picked up the kids I saw you had a new welder delivered.  I saw the sub come out and try to figure out what he needed to do." Him:  "What?  Oh yeah!  Who did you see?" Me:  "It looked like one of the coaches.  Maybe an older or middle-aged coach?" Him:  "Oh, yeah - no, he's not that old." Me:  "Well at least middle-aged." Him:  "No, he's about my age." Me;  (Looking at him quizzically) "Well, you are aware you are in your late forties?  That is middle-aged." Realization dawned on him.  Hi

Brenda is tired.  Brenda is cranky.  Brenda has spend the day referring to herself in third person.  Brenda is in sore need of a vacation.  Technically, Brenda will soon take some days off for "vacation" but that "vacation" will require her to ride herd on her children and her father.  If you are a follower of this blog, you understand that this "vacation" is no "vacation" at all, no how, no way, no sir! My children have recently transitioned to being able to stay at home and see to themselves periodically.  Today I got up for work, wrote out a list of chores, posted them on the fridge, woke up the boy-child to let him know I was leaving, and then eased myself out the door. 8:30 a.m.: Phone call 1 - "Mom, Emma won't wake up!"  "Why are you waking her up?  Haven't you learned it is best to let her sleep as long as possible so that she won't bother you?"  "Yeah, well, what about putting the dogs outside?&quo

I cannot make this stuff up.  When I say my life is here to entertain others, I really mean it. Tonight I was exhausted.  I have three stacks of projects on my desk that I literally broke out a ruler and measured today.  Each stack measured approximately 6 inches.  That is 18 inches of projects that everyone involved believes should be my first priority.  EIGHTEEN INCHES.  This does not even include emails, walk-in traffic/questions, etc.  I shouldn't complain as I have a good job, of which I generally enjoy the associated tasks, but GOODNESS, EIGHTEEN INCHES! I finally called it quits and decided to pray that it wouldn't multiply overnight.  I'm convinced there is a secret project breeding program and my office has been designated as an ideal habitat for such activity. I rushed home to meet someone who planned to try to convince me to buy Cosco knives.  I ran (ok, limped hurriedly) around the house trying to "fake clean" it to the point it would be not too

My father.  The infamous Oso.  The Bear. Just as when one is dealing with his spirit animal, one should always proceed with caution with my paternal parental unit.  Not everyone is ready for his wit and charm, but doctors in particular seem to struggle with quite how to deal with the man. In Oso's not-so-humble opinion doctors are by-and-large "quacks".  The many years of medical training they have is bunk, and they have no idea what they are talking about.  He has stretched the patience of more than one member of the AMA, leading one to proclaim my father "the most non-compliant patient I have ever seen."  And, this particular doctor used to be a prison doctor!  That statement actually exists in a medical chart.  It also happen to provide my father with a peculiar point-of-pride.  In his mind, this meant he won. With mom's passing, I have inherited the dubious honor of accompanying my father to the more important doctor visits.  We arrived and signed

The time has come where I feel I must force myself to get back in the saddle.  Back to writing.  Back to giving you a window into mi vida loca.  I know I have been gone awhile, if you follow my facebook page, I promised I would come back as soon as my humor did.  The last several months have not been kind, and I feel I owe those of you who haven't known me well a bit of an explanation. My mother became very sick unexpectedly.  None of us were fully prepared for the fact that we would lose her, and despite a brutally fought battle, lose her we did.  Our hearts have been broken while we've tried to figure out what to do, as she has always been the one with the master family plan. I've spent so much time since her passing the first weekend of this year just trying to keep all the pieces of the puzzle of my life, which now includes helping my father adjust to taking care of himself, that I have failed to see any sunshine.  My laugh has been hollow and forced.  My smile pre