Friday, January 29, 2010

HAPPY HUNDREDTH

For all of you keeping track...HAPPY ONE HUNDREDTH BLOG, BEST FRIENDS FOREVER! How do you feel? Enlightened? Wise? Mirthy and Pretty? Or maybe you're just now realizing that like sand through the hourglass, so went the days of your lives. Plus, a cat crapped in it thinking it was kitty litter, so now you REALLY don't want it back.

Well, if so, let me make it up to you. Go get someones nursing baby, attach it to your chest at 2:00 AM and watch the clock while you wait for the giant and necessary burp that signals the meal is over. And just like that, time stands still just for you! You can thank me later.

Soooooo, second son is now a licensed driver! Let's get tiptoin' through those tulips of JOY, friends! How to jubilize and mark this momentous occasion? Well, son celebrated by nearly cracking in half his ONE AND ONLY CAR KEY, using it to crow-bar open his fuel tank door and then called his parents in crisis mode at 10:00 PM. We parents popped open a bottle of...aspirin...and did some of the best eye-rolling and insult hurling we've done to date. I know! And here we thought our best days were over, once eldest son left home! But alas, twas not the case, as we did ourselves proud, people. Proud, I say!

Not to be left out, third boy is a source of consternation to his mother as well, as he really doesn't understand that double barrel boogers are considered an adversary when it comes to Jr. High status. This is a kid who is over six feet tall, has muscles that put him in a league of "must be self aware" and dimples and personality that take your breath away. And yet, he has an apparent aversion to any reflective surface that might tell the true tale of his nasal passages. I've tried to explain the logistics of having 99% of the student body shorter than him~as in they're forced to look UP to speak with him~to which he sniffs long, hard and violently, leading to yet another bloody nose and even less ability to articulate his consonants. Bless his congested heart.

Jules keeps insisting that when I speak to her, I'm yelling. It goes something like this:

Me~"Jules, you need to play that piano piece again, and this time count."

Her~"MOM, YOU ARE YELLING AT ME! WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO DO THAT? I WAS JUST PRACTICING PIANO AND THEN YOU HAD TO YELL AT ME LIKE YOU ALWAYS, ALWAYS DO AND THAT HURTS MY FEELINGS AND NOW I DON'T EVEN WANT TO KEEP PRACTICING! AND I EVEN LIKED THIS SONG, UNTIL YOU HAD TO YELL AT ME ABOUT COUNTING! SO WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO DO THAT?!"

Me~nothing out loud, but mentally counting the days until she has a daughter exactly like her. Insane laughter out loud and a worried look from the girl at the piano bench.

One other thing, she just mentioned that the small splint she found in the first aid chest must have been mine when I was a child because, "You were really teeny BACK THEN. Like skin and bones when you were little. I'm serious!" She apparently saw a picture of me back in the day and finds me "wanting" now, as a middle aged mother. Well, join the club.

Anyway, what a joyful family life I lead. Here's to another hundred blogs full of all manner of hideously embarrassing stories compliments of my children and dear husband.

THREE CHEERS FOR BLOG FODDER FAMILIES!

CHEER, CHEER, CHEER and a cup of rabbit poop ice confetti!







8 comments:

Just a bed of roses said...

Hello Lisa and CONGRATULATIONS on your 100th blog post...and EXCUSE ME for a minute while I run to the store for a package of DEPENDS so that I can read your other BLOG POSTS as if they are anywhere near as funny as this post which had me laughing with tears rolling down my face...I will need a package.

Carl came running to the computer as he had never seen me laugh so hard sitting here.

You will just have to guess who told me about your blog...I OWE HER A BIG PRESENT(okay a gift certificate) from Just a Bed of Roses as I think I will now live to read your bloggings...if you don't mind.

I knew you and your family was funny...but how does this just continue on and on...

Another thing... could I put you on my blog list?

Lisa said...

Brenda, I'd LOVE to be on your blog list! And how delightful for ME that you like my site. Does my heart good. :) And you're freakin' awesome for commenting so many times. Even my husband doesn't love me enough to throw me a comment bone. YOU WIN! You're my NEW FAVORITE!

Just a bed of roses said...

Oh I am not finished commenting Lisa!!! I just had to settle down to go to bed or I would of kept on.
When I type in your blog address it doesnt seem to bring me to your blog. I have to google it with your name. Is your setting done right.
Let me go try to add it and if it doesn't I will get right back with you.

Just a bed of roses said...

It worked!
You'll be hearing from some of my very dearest blogging friends & customers soon I am sure of it. That is if they dont break an arm falling off their chairs.
I will warn them to put pillows around their chairs, just in case and get to store for their depends.

Just a bed of roses said...

Hope you dont mind...I did a blog post about your blog...just wanted to introduce you Lisa. You can fill in any blanks you want...I am sure your mind will not "be stil

Just a bed of roses said...

oops...my fingers moved to finished before I was done...I amsure your mind will not "be still" and you'll need to do your finger exercising today! You have to go past that 100th mark anyway.

Anonymous said...

Happy 100th and looking not at all like 100!!

Hooray for second sons license! And third son....well...good luck. I'm trying to teach kinda the same thing only with braces :) And hats off to Jules and the piano! Makes my heart smile....I believe I acted the same way and then had a daughter just like me!

Keep 'em coming Lis....LOVE to read your blog since we NEVER talk anymore...so I don't know what's happening in your life! Oh, the distance between us....all 50 feet of it!

Love ya.....Anony

Lisa said...

Yeah, Anony. What's up with that? Not our faults~it's the weather. Hey, bring me your daughter and her dress. Time for some adjusting for Preference.