Adam wanted nachos last night so he went to the corner bar to pick up an order to go. The nachos at this place are HUGE and cheap. $7.50 and that’s one of those tin roasting pans that they’re in. The only thing that concerns me is the amount of sour cream. I understand asking for extra sour cream but c’mon!

All my kids spoiled me, but this is Stephen’s gift to me. Last night after midnight he forwarded me the following e-mail, along with the picture.

I got these for you so I can always remember how much you mean to me. The orchid is the first flower that I ever bought you on a Mother’s Day, and the pansy, because I know they are one of your favorites.

I love you, Happy Mother’s Day!

it’s certainly not a traditional Mother’s Day gift, but then we’re not a traditional family.  I’ve wanted a foot tattoo forever.  A flower.  But I’m a big chicken and won’t go under the needle.  Stephen did it for me, and in the best possible way.  I asked him how it felt, and it did say it was the most painful of all his tattoos.  How’s that for showing mom your love?

Cristin bought me a beautiful orchid and a super sweet card.  It’s huge and full of blooms and couldn’t be prettier.  I have to find the perfect spot for it.  Ethan woke me up with kisses on my cheek and “Happy Mother’s Day” whispered in my ears.  Total sweetnees.  He made me cards in school and hasn’t stopped with the card making.  He just brought me another a few minutes ago.  Last night Adam took me out for my favorite dinner of softshell crabs and gave me money for me to spend at the garden center.  My family made me feel totally loved and appreciated today.  I feel like one of the luckiest women in the world.  I truly have much to be thankful for.

Today we celebrated Mother’s Day at my parents’ house.  We cooked out and had the most fabulous food, which I just happened to prepare.  Honestly, is there anything that beats cookout food?

I hope all of you who are mothers had fabulous days, and all of you who are children spoiled your mothers deservingly. 

And can I just say that I have the World’s Best Mother! I know lots of people try and claim that honor, but honestly if my kids think I’m half the mother she is than I’m better than most of the mothers out there.  My mom is truly one in 80.73 million.  I am certain they broke the mold when she was made.  I could go on and on and on about what a gift my mother is to me and my children.  Her love has always been unconditional and pure.  I am blessed 1000 times over.

Just because they’re so pretty.

Meet my new grandpuppy. Stephen adopted a bulldog puppy. Today he went to visit him, and he’ll be bringing him home in a few weeks. The little guy is not quite three weeks old, and Stephen hasn’t picked out a name yet. He did promise that I’ll get to meet him very soon. They’re both pretty cute, huh?

Today is my husband’s birthday. Mr. Quiet. Mr. Reserved. Mr. Tell It Like It Is. If you want the non-sugar coated truth, then ask Adam. If he likes you, you’ll know it. He may not have the most obvious way of showing it, but you’ll know.

Adam and I are the best of friends. We rarely argue. We get each other so much that we just bounce things off each other or just automatically get what the other is thinking. We understand one another completely. With Adam I always know where I stand. I never have to wonder.

Adam is the best father in the world to Ethan. There is no doubt that Ethan is the most important thing in his world, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. He’s also always been there for my kids, and in the right way. He never tried to become instant dad, and that’s how I wanted it.

It’s hard for me to believe that we’ve been together for 12 years and married for 7 this June.

Happy Birthday Asshole! I love you. Always.

I have a 25 year old child!

Today my first born turns 25 years old. TWENTY FIVE YEARS OLD! I don’t even know when that happened. I have a 25 year old child! Is it possible that someone came in my house one day and fast forwarded my life?

I have a 25 year old child!

Stephen was born on April 28, 1983. He hung out inside me for an extra 3 1/2 weeks. I thought I was going to remain pregnant for the rest of my life. I finally got the appointment to be induced on April 27. Checked into the hospital, was pumped with pitocin all day long, and by that night I still had no baby. They stopped the pitocin and put my crying body into a hospital bed and told me to sleep. And the next morning it started all over again. By 4:30 the next day, I had a baby boy. A 10 pound , 7 ounce baby boy with a headful of dark hair and the chubbiest cheeks imaginable. Every time I went to look at him in the nursery there was a crowd around him ooohing and ahhhing over his perfection. Even the nurse fought over who got to take care of him.

I have a 25 year old chld!

Stephen was always ahead of the game. Bigger than everyone else when he was born. Brighter than all the kids in his class. Gifted in so many ways. No matter what he tried out for, he accomplished. No matter what he ran for, he was elected. Even where luck was concerned. If he entered a contest that required your name be drawn, his name was always the one that was called.

I have a 25 year old child!

Like any mother, as Stephen was growing up I always wondered what, who he would grow up to be. He was always an officer in the SCA. Would he be a politician? He loved music and singing. A performer? He was social and loved talking. He was smart and excelled in all subjects. He could be whatever, whoever he wanted. It shouldn’t suprise me that he works as an on-air DJ for a radio station should it?

I have a 25 year old child!

Stephen has developed into a wonderful man. He’s charming. He’s sweet. He’s caring. He’s fun. I couldn’t ask for a better son. Cristin couldn’t ask for a better brother. Ethan couldn’t ask for a better brother. My parents couldn’t ask for a better grandson.

I have a 25 year old child, and I couldn’t be more proud of him.

Over the past 7 days:

I have helped my daughter move into her own one bedroom apartment with no roommates.

I have caught a disgusting cold and feel really crappy.

Adam has broken his hand.  Or at least that’s what we think.  He cracked his knuckle on a finger that he’s broken numerous times before and when he did he heard a crackling sound.  Went to the doctor yesterday and got a soft cast and is waiting a call back to find out if he needs to have it set by the orthopedist.

 I have watched over 4 inches of rain fall.

Stephen has found a new apartment and will be moving into it with his girlfriend this summer.  A one bedroom with an address of Main Street.  How cute is that?

My wildflower seeds that Ethan and I planted two weeks ago have started to sprout.

I found a Chihuahua one night and immediately posted signs around the neighborhood and found his owners the next day. 

Other than those few things life has been pretty uneventful.  Good, but uneventful.

We got Ethan’s spring pictures in today. I actually like them because they don’t look like the typical school picture pose and expression.

I asked him about buttoning the top button, and he said he thought it would look cute and that he did it himself. My mom was so upset because she was in charge of pictures since we were in Vegas. She bought him the shirt and a little t-shirt to go underneath it, and he took it upon himself to button it ALL the way up.

Sometimes I feel like I let the tiniest things bug me.  I guess that’s fair because the really big things usually roll right off. 

Take something as simple as a wreath and turn it into a spring decoration for your door, and my heart rate starts to elevate.  It’s not on my house.  It’s not in my house.  It’s not even near my house so why should it bother me to such an extent?  Is it because it deviates from the trational purpose?  Am I so close minded that I can’t accept such a deviation?  Or is it because most of the wreaths I’ve seen are someone’s homemade craft that just screams tacky? 

Wreaths have one function in this world, and that’s as a Christmas decoration.   You will never see me order a wreath for a funeral.  Hell, I won’t even order the spray, which is actually a wreath of a different shape.  I don’t even like the horse race wreaths.  I don’t like Easter wreaths, fall wreaths, Valentine wreaths, Halloween wreaths or any other holiday specific wreath.

One Christmas a friend of mine announced that she was making all her Christmas presents for friends.  I don’t have a problem with homemade presents, as long as you’re not giving me something that I have to display in my house and as long as it’s not too far removed from my own personal taste.  Soap, candle, a piece of pottery, food.  I’m good with all those, and in fact, prefer such gifts.  But a wreath?  I wouldn’t even know how to say thank you.  But yes, wreaths were the big gift that this friend was “creating.”  And they were going to be spring wreaths! My friend even announced that she knew what everyone’s colors were.   Believe me, I was beyond scared.  I was hoping upon every hope that a spring wreath would not find it’s way under my tree on Christmas morning.  Thankfully, I didn’t rank a wreath that Christmas.  I got the secondary present.  A crocheted doily.  I have never been happier to be a lower tiered friend in my life.

But here it is years later and my neighbor has hung a spring wreath on the exterior of her home.  And it is awful.  It’s brightly colored and country-ish and it bugs me.  And I can’t keep my eyes off of it whenever I walk outside.  I am so afraid that my neighbor will see me eyeballing it one day and think I’ve developed wreath envy.  I can only hope that’s she not so kind that she decides to give it to me one day.

You know damn well this video makes you wish you were there!