Skip to main content

Posts

Showing posts from 2013

I LUV SW

I've been asked by several of my friends to recount my travel experiences of last week.  It's taken me a week to wrap my head around all that happened, but here goes: Ordinarily on all trips that I can, I fly Southwest Airlines.  I do not mind checking in early so I get an early boarding pass and can choose my seat.  The agents, ticket folks, flight attendants, and pilots have always been friendly and helpful, no matter what the situation.  This has ensured my loyalty.  Bags fly free (as long as they stay under 50 lbs.) Sadly, my last trip for work, I just could not make a Southwest flight work out time-wise for where I was going.  So, after researching other options, I decided to give United a try.  Now, I could go on and on about various things that made my flight with United uncomfortable (such as, the fact I can't even stand up straight in the plane), but I would like to just focus on my return trip experience. First, my travelling companion and I arrived at the a

Special Soap

When you live in West Texas, it is inevitable that you will at some point come in contact with a creature who, in gentler terms, "has passed".  Whether it be as you drive merrily down the road and are suddenly struck by the incredibly pungent odor of a dead skunk, or are the cause of a massive uprising of buzzards from the carcass of a too-slow deer. Little Sunshine's first experience happened up close and personally in the construction site of our new home.  As it is on a lot just outside of city limits, there is a plethora of mice in the neighboring fields, and it would seem one of the new neighbor's cats wished to give us a little house-warming present.  Minus the head. Little Sunshine came running and said, "Mama, mama, you have to see this!"  I went and, yep, the headless mouse was dead alright.  Little Sunshine squatted down and started to poke the carcass.  "Don't do that!  Don't touch it!" I yelled.  She looked up at me startled

Never Tell a Pregnant Woman.....

There are things you should never tell a pregnant woman.  El Hubbo loves to give me grief over this little pregnancy episode, and given the lack of anything currently going on that merits blog documentation, I'll just tell this little story on myself. While pregnant with Number One Son, I dutifully went to all five thousand doctor visits.  At least that is what I think the total came to, I'm really not sure.....I lost count after so many.  You see I was carrying an ABNORMALLY large beast in my belly, and I was informed I was "of advanced age", which all resulted in my getting to go to a specialist. You might think telling a pregnant woman she is "of advanced age" would be something your should not say.  You would be right, however, that is not what this story is about. All pregnant women get to have the lovely experience of being tested for diabetes.  It involves drinking this syruppy orange nasty drink and having your blood drawn.  When my nurse told

Just Like Butter

I come to you with a confession.  It's really all my mother and my grandmothers and Paula Deen's fault.  (Isn't everything?) I have a deep, deep, obsession, nay - this is more an addiction to.....I'm almost ashamed to admit this......butter. I spend many hours contemplating butter.  Do you ever wonder who the first person was who took a look at a cow and thought, "Hmmmmmm......if I pull those things, then take whatever I get, and then put it in a barrel with a stick and mash it around a bunch, I bet I'll get the best consummable substance known to man!"  (Yes, I really do think there were pivotal moments in history that took place just like I have described.) Now, I know butter is not that great taken as a large spoonful all by itself.  That is just not the case.  However, there are things in this world made infinitely more tolerable, nay more enjoyable, by this creamy little gift from heaven (and ol' Bessie.) (I feel like I wax more poetic whe

Trippin' for Free Stuff

I never win anything.  In the immortal words of HeeHaw....."If it tweren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all".....so, imagine my surprise when El Hubbo calls me and says that there is a message on the answering machine at home that says I have won something. Ok, great!  I love free stuff!  But, I know there is always a catch.  I race home to learn more about my prize, get the number to call from the answering machine and make the call.  Sure enough!  I DID win!  I was guaranteed a $100 gift card and the pick of another prize such as two plane tickets or a cruise for two! All I had to do......(here's the good part)......was drive to Midland, be there 15 minutes early to my appointed time, and I could get my prizes!  AND, if I stuck around and completed a survey, then I could have a chance to win $25,000 (or $25,000 shopping spree at the warehouse). "Wait, warehouse?  What kind of scam is this?" I thought briefly.  The very nice lady on the phone

My Ten Favorite Things About El Hubbo

It's hard to believe, but ten years have passed since saying "I do" to El Hubbo.  And as he is usually the "butt" of most of the jokes and blogs I write, I thought I'd give him a little surprise anniversary gift and let everyone know just what my favorite things are about him, and why he can't get rid of me. 10.  He is MY Romantic Hispanic.  He still asks me out on dates, occasionally sends flowers for no reason, and will on occasion watch a chick flick with minimal complaining.  As we were "older" when we married, I was realistic enough to expect that all of that would stop within one week of our wedding vows.  But the old guy still surprises me! 9.  He is a battle-worthy opponent.   Fights and arguments are seldom.  We each are strong-minded individuals not afraid to voice our opinion, sometimes vigorously.  I cannot run roughshod over him, and he is aware that I am not a doormat, either.  All of this translates into a mutual respect

Here Fishy Fishy

Another summer has come and gone, and we barely managed to squeeze in one fishing trip.   We set off early, early on a Saturday morning.....  And the sunrise was beautiful....... And the weather and scenery were pretty...... and the worms were fun to play with...... And the offspring were quiet and cooperative..... And the fish were biting...... And I got a picture of El Hubbo fishing with a pink Barbie fishing pole...... Granted, he caught this with it......(El Hubbo's fish measurements = 40 lbs, 3 feet long.  Actual size may vary.) But I am the big winner, as I caught this smile:

Fare Thee Well, Summer!

Tomorrow is our last very first day of school.  We've been running and gunning to get ready and fit in a few last-minute memories before Summer bids adieu.  A quick fishing trip proved exciting as the pink Barbie fishing pole outfished all the others.  A trip to the drive-in movie theater to see Planes was an exciting, if incredibly late event.  Clothing, supplies, lunch stuff - everything has been stocked and ready for the transition from the care-free days of Summer to the lock-step schedule of the School Year. Little Sunshine starts her educational career off as a big girl in Kindergarten.  Of course, we're excited for her.  Of course, we're a little scared of what will be reported back to us.  Of course, we're a little worried that our offspring will be the reason another good teacher decides to retire. Number One Son is already plotting - I hear evil laughter coming from his room.  When I bellow out a "What are you doing?!?!" He bellows back with &quo

RIP El Hubbo

Today was a no-good, very-bad, day.  I headed to work early as I knew what kind of day it would be.  And don't give me that whole "your attitude is part of the problem" speech.  When you work in the registrar's office of a major university, the day grading closes for a term is a bad day.  It is just a fact and attitude has nuttin' to do with it. I somehow survived it, and went to pick up the kids.  On a good note, someone had called to see our house that is on the market.  El Hubbo had taken Rocky (the infamous dog) and headed to the park.  I picked up the kids and met him there.  We visited and watched the kids play, then decided that it was time to head to the air conditioned comfort of the vehicles.  On our walk over, I was describing one of many of the incidents I had to deal with today, and I said, "I finally had to get up and walk around the building before I went on a murderous rampage."  Jake, whom I did not think was listening, looked up at me

A Woman's Job

Emma has just declared to me (with her little hands balled up into fists and placed defiantly on her hips) that a woman doesn't give up on her job until it is done. It is hard to not laugh at her little lip stuck out as she tries not to cry.  You see, this heroically delivered statement is done so in reference to her beloved Gig'Ems, a stuffed monkey she sleeps with that has gone missing.  It probably helps that it gives her a reason (about the twenty-seventh, I think) to get out of bed and come to my room.   I sent her back to her room with the suggestion that Gig'Ems is probably buried deep in all the junk on her floor. The twenty-eighth reason involved a dramatic monologue of the depth of her love for Gig'Ems and further declarations that she will never,never give up on him, and that he was not where I said. The twenty-ninth time brought an extended period of wailing and crocodile tears, topped off with a dramatic flailing of herself across my lap with "I must f

Who Needs Boys? She Can Win By Herself!

Well, Little Sunshine is at it again. She has begun her new T-Ball season, and all indications are that she loves it.  What she does not love are the boys she must share the field with. Her very first game, she ran to second base, where a poor unsuspecting boy stood squarely on the bag because his coach had told him to play on second.  And, he took that literally.  Emma's coach told her to get on second.  And, she took that literally.  She runs up to him, and he just looked at her.  She stood there for one second, and we thought a showdown was sure to ensue. I was proud of the fact that she did not employ her fabulous right hook.  Instead, she turned around with her back facing him, stuck out her booty, and used what the good Lord gave her to push him off the base.  The poor boy looked up at her a little confused, not sure what to do next.  She glowered down at him, with hands on hips, Queen of the Mountain.  (Or, second base.) Her natural feistiness on the field has appare

Little Sunshine

Little Sunshine is growing quickly and she provides us with more than one laugh a day.  Here are a few of the recent ones: This one her Bible class teacher told me last night:  They were studying the Lord's Supper and what each of the components mean.  Her teacher moves the discussion from what happened to discussing the meaning behind each component.  She asks Emma, "What does the bread represent?"  Emma replies, "Toast?" Recently I was doing her hair, getting it brushed and ready so she could go with her aunt to see her grandparents.  As I was doing so, Emma kept smiling and admiring herself in the mirror.  Without prompt she says in a sing-song voice:  "I am going to look FABULOUS!"  Humility, thy name art Emma. Recently, Emma has taken an anti-romance stance.  Her father and I, who are legally married and therefore allowed the occasional smooch, have been adamantly warned not to do so in her presence.  If we do attempt to break this First Law of Em

Tuesday Night Homework Folder

I have many moments wherein I adamantly believe that my son's first grade teacher whoops and does a dance of joy as he exits her classroom each day.  I'm quite certain she fervently prays for strength and patience each night just to be able to make it through her very own live version of a Calvin and Hobbs cartoon strip. Each Tuesday, Jake's teacher send home all of his work from the previous week.  Tuesday evenings, we have made certain to set aside a special time for him to go through each paper with us and show us what he has learned or what he thought about the assignments.  This week is no exception, however, it provided me with a few good laughs.  This week's folder had several notebook paper pages that were not graded.  I asked Jake what the assignments were, and he informed his teacher had him doing "free writing".  As a former English teacher myself, I love that he is writing so much.  Here is a sampling of what he wrote:  (grammatical errors a

San Fran and Scout Camp

It's been a very busy time for WTM.  Recently, I went to a conference for the real job (you know, the one that pays - not this one.  This one only has non-tangible benefits such as sharing the exploits of my family so that you can understand or sympathize or just feel better about yourself.)  This conference was in San Francisco, a city I had never visited. Much goes into the preparation for the Mama to leave.  Beyond the normal packing, checking in for flights, and attempting to keep the look of glee and anticipation off my face as I somberly assure El Hubbo and the munchkins that I will miss them greatly, there are the other preparations that must take place:  (1)  Review schedule for all available sight-seeing opportunities (2) Research restaurant options (3) Develop entertainment agenda (4) Draft schedule and contact information for El Hubbo to attempt to keep up with a fraction of what his wife does on a weekly basis. This last item is critical.  It was especially critical

Tour of Texas

It's always difficult to not freak out when your child utters his or her first expletive.  No matter how hard you try to shield them from vulgar language, and no matter how hard you try to not freak out when they invariably bust out with one of the really, really bad ones in public, it is just going to happen. El Hubbo and I have managed fairly well to remain calm and attempt to stress the seriousness to our children of not using many of the words they will overhear or learn from their friends.  I've even been known to get up from a table in a restaurant and ask the people next to us to watch their language.  We relocated from our seats at a certain college baseball stadium. We've taken extra precautions to edit our own language, which is difficult when one has just broken one's toe against the foot of the bed.  (Yep, speaking from experience.)  El Hubbo, in his extraordinarily creative way, has more than once had a standard household incident that causes immediate

Annual Vet Trip

Well, El Hubbo is gone again, and of course there is too much to do, not enough time to do it, and no one to help.  I seem to be caught on a treadmill set to too high a speed on an incline.  I race here and there, when I am home, I run about the house trying (and failing) to pick up, clean up, etc.  In addition to work and church, we have to squeeze in Spanish lessons (Jake), boy scouts, and the occasional workout (which I am trying to make non-optional since I really would like to live to see these kids pay for everything they do to me).  To top it off, I got to add a trip to the vet today. While many of you probably think we utilize a vet for our offspring, you would be wrong.  (Granted, my experience working for a vet, and El Hubbo's experience doctoring hogs and other barnyard animals does make us a little more willing to try home remedies for general ailments, aches, and pains.) No, this trip was indeed for the four-legged livestock living in our home. You have heard of th

Murphy's Season

Well, 'tis the season.  El Hubbo has hit the road for stock shows, and I am once again a stock show widow.  It's the season I refer to as "Murphy" as his law kicks into high gear and kicks my tail on an almost daily basis. SUNDAY This year Murphy didn't even wait for El Hubbo to leave before slapping me around a bit.  Being the devoted, kind-hearted wife that I am, I arose early last Sunday to fix my family a nice breakfast before we readied ourselves for church.  I had a nice sausage and cheese pastry baking away.  I turned the light on for the oven to check it's progress.....and it was progressing nicely.  Looked ever so scrumptious.  I reached to turn the light back off and it did not go off.  I toggled the switch back and forth and .........nothing.  Befuddled, but not yet panicked, I decided maybe the oven just needed a little time to decide to cooperate, and went about my business.  (Time is the usual cure for unresponsive appliances, isn't it?)

Banana Bread Legacy

What does one do when one sees four bananas that look a little past their prime hanging on the banana hook?  Many a modern girl would throw said fruit away, fearful of the blackish-brown spots that have overtaken the fresher yellow skin.  Nay, nay, says a girl brought up baking.  Those blackish-brown spots are a gift from God and make the heart of every true baker sing with anticipation of the delights that can be coaxed from it mushiness. This morning, not having had to arise for work (one thing I do thank the state legislature for), the kids and I lay piled in bed discussing the opportunities the day held.  Jake decided he was fully prepared to make waffles for breakfast.  With very little adult supervision (just enough to make sure he didn't burn himself on the waffle iron), he turned out 6 very nice, tasty waffles.  He even dressed them up with syrup for Emma and I. As if this wasn't enough to make a mama's heart swell and burst, Emma decided she wanted to bake some

Bath Aversion

We've had a complicated relationship with baths around our house. There have been times when the children gleefully peeled off every stitch of clothing, ran naked and free with complete abandon, and joyfully dove into the tub for a good 45 minutes of time Mama could use to clean up the mess they had made in the kitchen after dinner. There have been times when the 2" of water left on the floors of the bathroom following a bath have caused the parental units in the household to draw their offspring close, take big whiff, and declare them good for one more day. As we transitioned to showers, there was the cold shock in the morning that brought instant life and awareness as I realized my offspring had changed my carefully researched and predetermined, perfect shower temp setting. As we move to a completely independent showering experience, we now face new challenges.  There are some uncomfortable things I have learned about my children during this time.  (1) The amount of

Psycho Meters and Chia Pets

El Hubbo and I are fans of the show, "Shark Tank".  People walk into a room of rich folks and try to convince them to invest in their company/product/idea. Some of the ideas are downright ridiculous (such as the "ARKEG" - a combo arcade game and kegerator), and some are ingenious (such as the magnetic eyeglass holder).  As with most things we do, we often begin to look accusingly at each other and asking, "Why can't YOU come up with something like that?" Well, folks, I am here to tell you that I have the perfect (and timely) idea that is sure to garner me both fame and riches (and possibly a trophy husband). Given the preponderance of ridiculous debate regarding gun laws, I would like to address one HUGE flaw I see in most arguments.  How many times in the last month alone have you heard that we must expand gun purchase background checks to make sure guns are not sold to the mentally ill?  I ask you, just how would you enforce that?  There is cur