I'm "Jiggy Wit It," But I Don't Get It

I like to think that, as Will Smith rapped in the 90's, that I'm "jiggy wit it," but I suppose the fact that I even use that phrase probably shows that I'm not. I must admit, on a regular basis now, I watch the news, listen to the radio, or read the paper, reflect on current events, and say "I don't get it."

For instance, prior to last week, I'd never seen the show "Jon and Kate Plus Eight" but I don't think I have to be a follower to know that it should really be called "Jon and Kate Plus Eight Minus Dignity and Common Sense." I did tune in for a couple of minutes toward the end last Monday night to see what all the fuss was about. Apparently, they aired a special episode where they announced they were getting a divorce, but both stressed that their first priority was their children. At which point, I said to myself "I don't get it." If your children are your first priority, get them off TV, work on your marriage, and quit acting like your first priority isn't fame and fortune. Quit prostituting your kids and acting like this isn't all about you. Really, you don't have to be Dr. Phil to figure this out. These two people make Octomom look like Parent of the Year!

Next up, all the Michael Jackson fuss. I agree, he was quite the entertainer, but I find it so ironic that when he was alive he was more famous for his odd face and inappropriate behavior than his music. Now that's he dead, he's fabulous. Uhhhh....I don't get it. People gathering in the streets, holding vigils, openly crying like he was Mother Theresa, or something, and jumping on the bandwagon for their fifteen minutes of fame on the nightly news. I suppose his death was sudden and a shock, but really, when you have multiple surgeries, and you are grossly underweight for your height, and you take prescription (or nonprescription) drugs on a regular basis, something's bound to go awry, don't you think? I read a quote in today's paper from a woman who said that "besides Jesus Christ, he was the cultural landscape of my life." All I could say to that is "Wow!" Jesus Christ number one, Michael Jackson number two...the end. I don't get it.

Every day now as I drive in the car and listen to music on the radio (which trust me is just your typical pop station) I am astounded at the lyrics to songs these days which blatantly contain sexual connotations. I can't believe how many times I find myself saying "What did he say? Does that mean what I think it means, cuz I don't see how it could mean anything else!" And nothing is more embarrassing that singing along to a song with a catchy little beat and then realizing I'm singing words like "smack that" by Akon or "looshen' up my buttons" with the Pussycat Dolls or how about "I wanna take a ride on your disco stick" by Lady Gaga and then realizing that one of my kids is sitting in the front seat next to me! I think that's why I find myself listening to country music more and more these days. It's so much safer. All they sing about is God and beer and pickup trucks. That kind of stuff, I get. Now that I think about it, for all I know being "jiggy wit it" may have a totally different meaning than what I've thought it to mean all these years.

As parents, Ed and I have always tried to reinforce to the boys what is appropriate and not appropriate. Right after "manage your pain" our next favorite phrase was "that is not appropriate." I'll never forget, when Alex was in kindergarten, there was a Celine Dion song which was popular at the time and the lyrics included a phrase "if I touch you like this, if I hold you like that..." or something along those lines, and he was mindlessly humming the tune and singing the words. At some point, he informed me he sang it to some little girl in his class and when I stopped to think about the lyrics, I replied "uhh....maybe you shouldn't sing that song to her anymore, that might not be appropriate" to which he innocently replied "I don't get it?"

Watermelons and Worms (and Jelly Beans of Course!)

Wow, it's been such an incredibly busy and unusual week, I don't even know where to begin. I have so many things to tell you about.

First, let's begin with the watermelon Ed and I purchased about a week ago while grocery shopping. We bought it on a Monday evening, set it on the counter for a couple of days to await slicing, cubing, melon-balling, and on Thursday morning of last week, I noticed something was amiss. I had just gotten a refill on my coffee that I wanted to enjoy at my leisure. For whatever reason, I looked toward the melon, which sat near the back corner of the counter top, and I noticed there was liquid watermelon (sounds redundant, I know) on my kitchen wall. Then I looked at the melon and saw there was a hole in it. It looked as if it had exploded and spewed melon onto the wall and counter. I touched the melon and tried to pick it up, but quickly realized the entire shell lacked substance and it would have been like picking up a jellyfish. It was very unstable and smelly, and disgusting watermelon guts were oozing out of it uncontrollably all over the counter. All I could utter was "Ewwwww....omigod.... eeewwwww....hello?....ewwwww......omigod....can someone help me?....omigod!" I'm not sure what I really wanted anyone else to do, other than be there to witness this bizarre event.

I decided I needed to get it onto a cookie sheet and move it over to the sink. I gently shuffled it onto the cookie sheet, much like an orderly moves a patient over to a new hospital bed. I slowly and carefully moved toward the sink (which, trust me, was not far away) and what happened next, I'm not entirely sure. The melon started to move, wobble, whatever, and then kaboom! It tipped, popped, whatever, and rotten melon was all over my counter, the front of my cabinets, on the floor, on my pajamas, and in the drawers. I liken it to a puffy, dead animal carcass that you might see laying on the side of the road that's been poked with a stick by a bunch of curious kids.

Thankfully, Ed was working at home that day (or so he thought) and all I could do was scream in shock as I stood drenched in watermelon guts. Alex jumped out of bed and came down to see if I was okay. He thought I was seriously hurt. As soon as he saw I was only wearing watermelon, he went back to bed.

The clean up was going to require a professional. It took Ed a good couple of hours to get the job done. The floor had to be mopped, the counter wiped down, and drawers wiped out. I had to immediately throw my clothes into the washer. It smelled absolutely putrid. I, of course, threw what remained of the melon into a garbage bag and returned it to Kroger for a new one. No questions asked. I'm sure they could smell me coming a mile away.

On Friday night at 12:30, (actually Saturday morning), during the second record setting 100-year rain fall we've had in two years, we were awaken with a jolt to discover that water was spilling into our egress window into the beautifully finished basement and obviously had been doing so for sometime. It was a horrible sight to see. The outside electricity that powers the portable sump pump we've installed in the egress window area, went out, thus no pump. An alarm on the back-up sump pump which kicks in to support the main sump was going off and woke us up. When we got down stairs in all of our panic, we looked at the window well and it had at least two feet of water in it gushing through the window seams. I felt like I was on the Titanic seeing the water pouring in. It was a helpless, sick feeling. What was even more disturbing were the earthworms that washed in with the water. That was really the lowest point. Worms on my carpet, trying to burrow into my carpet was just too much. It's still too upsetting for me to discuss in detail, however, I'm happy to report that the insurance people sent a company out to dry the carpet (it is salvageable), rip up the padding, and clean and disinfect. I know it could have been much worse.

First off, it was ground water, not sewage, so that's a HUGE plus. Secondly, it's not like we had inches of standing water all over the basement, more like a gigantic puddle. No furniture, walls, or possessions were damaged, and I'm starting to see some light at the end of this tunnel. I'm sure there will be follow ups to this topic when I'm able to look back and laugh at it. Yesterday, Michael Rosenberg of the Free Press had a funny little blurb about his experience with his basement flood which also occurred on Friday night. Hopefully, I'll be able to follow suit some day and say "It's over and done with, like water under the pool table."

On Saturday we attended four graduation parties. I felt like I was speed-partying. We had our party scheduled all planned out and then it all blew up in our face as we got a late start due to water restoration people being at our house (who by the way, were wonderful). The plan for me was to pace myself on food and drink. However, after having been up until 4:00 a.m. and only getting three hours of sleep, and being an emotional wreck, I arrived at the first party famished and ready for an alcoholic beverage. By the end of the night, I was stuffed and my bladder felt as full as my egress window. However, it was a wonderful way to forget about our troubles the night before and commiserate with friends who also had their own water issues to deal with. The weather (thank you God) was beautiful and we are not expected to get any rain until perhaps Thursday.

Today is the second day of summer school for Cam. I was astounded to see how many people go to summer school. Seriously, the traffic is as bad as a regular school day! As I sat at the light waiting to pull out of the school driveway, it was funny to watch the cars pulling in. Parents (many still in their pajamas I'm sure) hauling their kid to the school at 7:00 a.m. on a beautiful sunny, summer day. The kids in the passenger seats looked as if they were vampires and couldn't stand to be in the bright sunny daylight. Eyes half closed, hands blocking the sun's rays, and body language that screamed "I'm so tired and I hate this."

Yesterday, however, there was a bright spot to my week. You may recall my SweeTarts jelly bean posting from a week or so ago. I had shared it with the folks from Nestle asking them how and when can I get some jelly beans all year round. Well, you'll be happy to know (or maybe jealous) that my new best friend, Patricia, sent some complimentary packages of these little treats which arrived yesterday. When the doorbell rang, I thought it was the water restoration people returning to check on their work. Imagine my delight when I saw a box at my doorstep that read Nestle. You've never seen anyone open a box faster. Patricia reminded me that these jelly beans are still only available at Easter, however, they are coming out with some new stuff and I will keep you apprised of whatever else may come my way (hint, hint, Patricia). It was really a double-edged sword for me. I felt so honored to be the recipient of free jelly beans, however, it would mean that I would have to share. I've instructed the boys NOT to open any bags of jelly beans willy-nilly and we will be allotting 10 beans per day to make them last as long as possible. Thank you, Patricia. You have no idea how much that made my day. N-E-S-T-L-E-S, Nestles makes the very best--jelly beans. Holy crap, I'm delirious and either need more sleep or more sugar.

The Mourning of Summer Vacation

Long gone are the days of a "true" summer vacation. When I was in high school, getting out of school for the summer meant getting away from the school.  It meant going on vacation with the family, having family reunions by visiting relatives who lived out of state, or just hanging out with your friends.

Unfortunately, that is not the case these days with today's younger generation. Now that Alex has graduated from high school, Cameron is left to carry the torch. This means mandatory daily workouts in preparation for football in the fall. Football "camps" which is really a sneaky way of getting in some football practice prior to the official start of the season. Mandatory fundraisers that infringe on your weekend time. High school summer baseball, which involves doubleheader games at least twice a week and, starting next week, summer school. Cameron is taking two classes, not because he failed anything or needs to repeat a class for an improved grade, rather he is trying to gain some ground on the required classes needed for graduation. 

He is taking personal fitness (gym) and health. These are two required electives that he truly will not have room to take in his four years, without sacrificing something. He is a member of the PCEP orchestra, which is a full-year class, and will be a four-year comitment for him. There goes one slot for electives. He will be taking a foreign language for at least two years, there goes another elective spot. He is required by his parents (if not the state) to have four years of math, science, history, and english. There goes the rest of his schedule. When will he have time to take gym, health, or God forbid, something fun like cooking, photography, accounting, etc.? I find it so ironic that we're paying for him to take gym in the summer, when he is participating in daily football workouts and playing high school baseball. Something's not right and the requirements need to be changed so that students participating in a high school sport receive credit for it.

It's unfortunate that so many courses are offered at the Park, but he is unable to take advantage of them. Oh, I forgot--throw in the expected requirement of taking "advanced football" which is a class players are "highly recommended" to take during the football season, if not all year round, so they can get in their daily workouts--and you have the typical makings of too many requirements, too little time.

I long for the days when a kid had time to be a kid and parents had time to have a life. Now their schedules are so jam packed with workouts, practices, traveling to far away games, and homework there isn't time to go on a vacation during summer vacation! There's never time to take a break. The pressure to start prepping for the next sport begins during the prior sport. It is this way with all sports. I know that basketball camps and clinics are going on right now, and basketball season doesn't even begin until November or December! Pom tryouts, practices, and camps are also in full swing for next year's school season and competitions.

For years this has been something we've done our best to work around. But when you get into the higher grades, there is no working around it. You either adjust, or your kid suffers the consequences.  When I was in high school, if you felt the urge to try out for a sport for the fun of it, you could, and chances are you would make it. For instance, I decided to go out for cheerleading my senior year and I made it! If that happened now, I feel certain there would be protests. Nowadays, if you haven't been professionally playing a sport since you were five, forget it. These days kids are signed up for one camp or another on a regular basis beginning at a young age. There is lots of competition to be the best. Unfortunately, I think most of the competition is between the parents and not the kids.

I understand, we make the choice to participate in these activities. Rather, we let our child make the choice, and then we need to support it. But what I don't support is how playing a high school sport has become a career choice for the family, rather than an extracurricular activity for the student. 

More Jelly Beans Please

It's been about two months since the Easter season, and I have found myself suffering from severe SweeTart jelly bean withdrawal symptoms. I miss my sugar fix, and to be honest, nothing else is satisfying it. Not Skittles, Smarties, or Starburst.

Why would you do this to me, SweeTart people? Why would you lure me in with your tarty, dissolvable candy coating, get me hooked, and then leave me hangin' high and dry in the candy aisle, like a junkie looking for his drug dealer on the street corner? I'm not the only one that has found them hard to resist. I introduced these little treats to several friends and family members and they, too, instantly fell in love with them. Everyone who tried them immediately said "what are these?"

I first discovered these little "crack" jelly beans last year leading up to the Easter season. Upon first glance, they are not the most vibrant jelly bean, compared to your Starburst or Jolly Rancher jelly bean. Their colors consist of muted pastels. After Easter passed last year, I could not find one bag of these things to save my life. Then, they came out again at Halloween and they were a dull purple and orange. Not the most appetizing or attractive color scheme, but who cares.  When I happened upon them at Halloween, you can imagine what people around me thought as I screamed out with glee. My mind was racing--"Okay, okay....good, this is good. They must be making these on a regular basis now, or at least for certain holidays." So, when Halloween came and went and, once again, I was left standing at the "candy altar" I was crushed. I thought to myself "Well, Christmas is only a few weeks away, and we all know how early they start marketing that stuff, so surely there will be some Christmas jelly beans on store shelves very soon." I decided that I could tough it out (not that I had any choice).

So when Christmas merchandise started rolling out (which was literally the day after Halloween), I went on the prowl. "Okay, no Christmas SweeTart jelly beans the first week, hmmm....maybe I should try a different store. Kroger, Target, CVS, Walmart...no jelly beans!  What the hell! Who has Halloween jelly beans, but not Christmas jelly beans?!"

So, once again, my cravings would have to wait. And wait they did--November, December, January, February (because there were no Valentine's Day jelly beans, if you can believe that), and then it happened one day in Kroger in March.  SweeTart jelly beans right there in front of my face! It was such a monumental moment, it required a text to Alex, since the rest of my family had also been anticipating their return. Yes, I admit it, it's a sad day when the product of a catholic upbringing and education is more excited about the resurrection of SweeTart jellybeans than the resurrection of Jesus Christ during the Easter season. What can I say except "Bless me Father, I have sinned."

I bought so many bags of jelly beans that day, I think it ranks right up there with my "butter on sale" purchases that I wrote about a few weeks back.  I brought them home, and we devoured them and then we looked at each other in shame (but we had big smiles on our faces).

My family loves candy. I love candy. Who the heck does not love candy? I remember my mom taking us to the grocery store every Friday (because that was pay day) to do the grocery shopping and she would each let us each pick out a bag of candy. At home, we kept it in the "candy cupboard" and I can still picture it clearly to this day. We have a candy jar in our pantry and a candy basket for excess bags of candy. Because I live in a house full of boys, sometimes I have to hide some of the candy so that I might be able to enjoy some in case I don't want to consume it all in the first 39 minutes it's in the house, like they do. I like to savor my candy. They do not. I have been reduced to hiding candy in little trinket boxes around the house, decorative bird houses, pockets, and drawers. Ed and I like to call it "secret candy." As I type this, I'm starting to think I need candy rehab.

Once again, I was led on and then dumped by the SweeTart people. When will I ever learn? I was so astounded that I could not find any of these jelly beans after the Easter season in this age of 2009, that I even went on the internet and did a search for any information leading to the purchase of post-Easter SweeTart jelly beans. I was astounded to find that I was not alone. Many people had blogs devoted entirely to candy! Many described their own addictions to these tarty little beans and and their desire to purchase more. Ultimately, the only way I found I could purchase these treats was in bulk from a candy warehouse that sold 10 lbs. of the beans for $39.99. I haven't been able to stoop that low yet. I'm holding out for 4th of July jelly beans. 

God is great, beer is good...

...and people are crazy. Those are the lyrics to a country song by Billy Currington. The first time I heard that song and it's haunting melody, I thought to myself, "ain't that the truth?" That's the beauty of a great song--the ability to sum up life, and all of its complexities, in just a few short, simple statements. None of this "my heart will go on, blah, blah, blah.....near, far....blah, blah, blah." Directness--that's really more my style. Get to the point, say what you want, mean what you say. God is great! Beer is good! And people are crazy!! Country music can be so refreshingly direct. Many of the songs talk openly and honestly about the singer's feelings...I love my pickup truck....she's a tramp....I'm a drunk....I love you... you hate me.....I love horses.....you're a cheater.....she's a tramp.....I love beer.

Just like a photo, the power of a song can be incredible. Any song, any genre. It can create memories, make you relive them when you hear it again years later, and bring you to tears, whether it's from joy or sadness.

I often think, what would we do without music? How did I survive prior to the invention of the Ipod, or worse yet, how would I survive if I lost my hearing? Some songs hold a special place in our hearts and remind us of a memory or a particular place and time. Every time I hear "Color My World" it reminds me of middle school dances. Back then, that was one of the popular "slow dance" songs.  "One for My Baby" sung by Bette Midler on Johnny Carson's last Tonight Show reminds me of Ed's dad and his final days at our home. "More than Words" by the group Extreme, was my "focus" song during labor with Alex (all 15 hours of it!). It was kind of ironic that we heard it while out to dinner, over the weekend, for his 18th birthday. 

Which leads me to Alice Cooper's "I'm Eighteen" and "School's Out." Those two songs couldn't be more appropriate for Alex this week. He's not familiar with them but seeing as how they were popular in the 70's, I am! I've been humming them all week.

As I mentioned, Alex turned 18 on Saturday. The lyrics to this song include "I'm a boy and I'm a man." Isn't it funny how Alex is old enough to sign up for the military so he can be trained to go overseas and defend his country, and he can register to vote to have a voice in the leadership of his city, state, and country, but he can't have a beer? Not that I'm suggesting that I want him to drink alcohol, but just the fact that 18 is old enough for some stuff, but not others. When I mentioned the irony of this to Alex, he said, thanks to psychology class, it's because an 18 year old's brain is not mature enough or developed enough to "handle" the alcohol (at which time I thought to myself...hmmmm, I know some 30, 40, and 50 year-old brains that aren't mature enough to handle alcohol, what's their excuse?). I guess for now he'll have to settle for  singing "God is great, milk is good, and people are crazy."