West Texas Mama

Dear Administrators of Jake's School: I wanted to thank you for the Monterey Plainsman Award you bestowed upon my son.  I concur that there could be no finer honoree than MY son.  (Please note, he belongs to his father when you are trying to determine who to contact when the little rascal has led a mutiny in his classroom.) I do, however, wish to alert you to a couple issues associated more with the communication and organization (or perhaps lack of) associated with the notice you have given us to celebrate said offspring.  I was quite excited to receive the note in his backpack last Monday.  I was a little concerned that the note indicated that the award ceremony would be on Friday.  I am certain I am not the only parent who's busy workdays are filled with pre-scheduled meetings.  I was quite distraught that I was scheduled to be out of town that morning at a conference.  I immediately contacted the airline and discovered that I could change my ...

OK, Ok, I know.  It's been awhile.  But I've been busy.  Since we last reported on the everyday goings-on of my life, I've been to Vegas, baby!  I had a conference for work that I had to go to.  I mentioned to El Hubbo a couple months ago that I would be gone for almost a week.  "Where?" he asks.  "Vegas."  I replied.  "When do we go?" he asked while pulling out his calendar.  So, there would be no wild solo trip for me - had to take the hall monitor with me.  (Yeah, right.)  Much coordination was required and Muzzy and Oso were contracted to act as wardens for the kids.  They arrived on Saturday and after a quick orientation, I wished them luck and peeled out of the driveway on my way to the airport.  El Hubbo would not join me until the next day since he had students at contests and felt that perhaps he should take care of some of his own work responsibilities.  I'm sure he had a lovely time with his in-laws,...

There isn't much that is tougher than these two hard-nosed criminals, but this is: In the eternal battle of kids vs the light pole: Light Pole 1, Kids 0

Forgive the grammatical mistakes on this one. I am typing it out on my iPad and what with autocorrect and an abnormal keyboard, typos will just be a part of life. And, speaking of life, my son has just explained to me life according to Jake. You see, apparently, women get fat and have a baby grow in their stomach. The baby is mysteriously born. It then grows, and grows,and grows until it is a big person. Once it is a big person, it starts to get old and fat ( and if you are a woman, you mysteriously born a kid or two) and then it dies. "Wow, Jake, did you learn all that in school?" I ask, while mentally making a note to put a parent block on TLC and Discovery Health channels. "Nope," he smugly says. "It's just something I thought of and like to call the People Cycle." So, since my son has this whole People Cycle figured out at the ripe old age of six, I'm not sure if I should be relieved that some of the conversations that would h...

It might be difficult to believe that St. Paddy's Day is a big deal in a household with a hispanic surname, but as the Irish half of the family, I can assure you it is!  I love all things St. Paddy's - the wearin' o' the green, the Top o' the Mornin' to you greetings, and let us now take a moment of reverence for the food.  Ah, yes, the food. We started the day with some Irish Soda Bread.  Last year, I had attempted this to not such great results.  Actually, I'm pretty sure I had ancestors spinning in graves in the Old Country.  This year, however, we had MUCH better results.  It made for a quite tasty breakfast paired with some bacon.  Here's the recipe I found in a Paula Deen magazine (so you know it's good!): Irish Soda Bread: Makes 1 (12-inch) round 1/2 cup plus 2 tablespoons chilled butter, divided 5 cups all purpose flour 1/2 cup sugar 1 tablespoon baking powder 1 teaspoon baking soda 1 teaspoon salt 1 1/2 cups raisins ( I used cra...

El Hubbo is gone to another stock show.  It is also Spring Break and our home continues to be a battleground for the willful and consistently annoyed under-7 population.  I don't really get Spring Break, but I did choose to take a couple vac days to spend catching up around the house.  I had the perfect plan - the kids would be at the daycare - El Hubbo is in Houston, so I could lay out my to-do list and really whittle down on the incredible long list of things that never seem to get done around here. I kept my little plan underwraps.  You see, if El Hubbo were alerted to the fact that I was taking a couple days off, he would have scheduled out my entire day, filling it with errands and chores for him.  I have learned that lesson - so now my vacation days are Top Secret:  Need to Know Status only.  It's not as though he takes vacation days and spends them cleaning closets, mopping floors and wiping floorboards, sorting out the kid's toys, packin...

I am no foreigner to the various names one calls a lover of books:  bibliophile, bookworm, nerd, etc.  I am guilty on all accounts.  El Hubbo quickly realized early in our marriage that books were to me as crack was to an addict.  My dealer's name was Barnes and Noble.   While this makes me an interesting Trivial Pursuit partner, it can dent the old pocketbook if one is not careful.  El Hubbo put me on a strict book budget, and I had to resort to nefarious means to get my fix - including using my children.  All gift-giving occasions give me an excuse to head to my dealer to "pick something up for them" - and, of course, sneak in a book or two for mama.  On the occasion of their birthday or for very special rewards, they get to actually go visit the dealer with their mama - and of course, mama usually gets something special too.  It works for me. I will read ANYTHING.  Almost.  I do draw the line at racy novels.  But I ...