In Need of an Affair

I’ve been married to Michigan for 36 (or 37 – how old am I???) years now.  Sure I love Michigan, but I’m not IN LOVE with it.  I love experiencing the four seasons, but honestly I can only handle about one month (and that’s REALLY pushing it) of the bitter, frigid, winters.  The freshly fallen snow on the trees is one of the most beautiful sights ever, but I’m pretty sure that if I were to move somewhere warm, I would be a happy camper seeing it from pictures or on Christmas vacation when I come home to visit.

Watching the trees showing signs of new life with their budding leaves and seeing the colorful tulips, daffodils, and crocus sprout up in the Spring is beautiful too. But really, it’s March 31^st and we woke up to a dusting of snow!! I’m so over Michigan.

Summer in the Great Lakes is what I love the most.   There is nothing like packing up the kids, with the camper in tow and heading out to one of this State’s best assets – nature.  The woods, lakes and birds - I love everything about being up north (this is probably why I’ve been bugging Assman about leaving city life and settling down in the country – but that is another story for another time.)

Then we have Fall – another very beautiful season in Michigan.  The live show the trees put on with their changing colors of red, yellow and orange is a sight to see. But, this season is short lived and is a reminder that the worst is heading our way. 

I absolutely, positively, HATE being cold.  No ifs, ands or buts about it. I despise having to layer up just to go outside. This means from late November to late March I am cooped up in the house.  Maybe if I wasn’t such a chicken shit I could try skiing and that could hold me over until Spring when I can get out and play in the dirt and soak up some sun (which by the way, the lack thereof has caused a vitamin D deficiency for me – another argument for moving somewhere warm!).

Since I have failed miserably at convincing Assman to move out of state, my new goal is to convince him to let me have an affair.  Just a little love affair with another State, or even country, every winter, that lasts about a week, right smack dab in the middle of this dreadful season so I can perk up and get rid of the winter blahs.  Somewhere with a beach and lots of warm sun to soak up.  Think he’ll go for it?

Until next time – live, laugh and love (and cross your fingers that I’m allowed to have an affair!)

xoxo

Popcorn Fanatic

If you truly know me then you know that my most favorite snack ever is popcorn.  I can eat it everyday. The more artery clogging butter and salt the better it is (and the more likely I will get the bag or bowl to myself!)

I think my infatuation with popcorn began when I was little.  Even though my memory stinks (one of my other self diagnoses is CRS [can’t remember shit]) I vividly remember going to the Hillsdale County Fair just about every year with my family.  My grandparents had an old 1940’s Ford popcorn truck and they would take a week vacation to go and work the fair.  Every year they were in the same spot – in between the petting barnyard and the 4-H building.  Maybe that’s what started one of my many other obsessions of wanting to live on a farm. 

I can still see my Grandpa standing in the truck with his apron stirring the caramel or the candy coating for the apples with the big wooden stick in that huge metal pot.  And I can smell the popcorn that Grandma made.  We would stand in the truck with them and help with the sales.  But the best part was sampling the goods!   I’m a little biased, but I do believe that Grandma and Grandpa's caramel apples, candy apples, butter popcorn and caramel corn were the best at that fair.

I’ve always wanted to find Grandpa’s old truck, and by gosh, if there is a will, there is a way. My will is to have one of those trucks one day.  One day, when I’m living on my farm, that truck will be sitting in my big red barn with the green roof.  Next to it will be my 71’ Chevelle, my Jeep Grand Wagoneer – and all my other “stuff”.

Until next time, enjoy some popcorn and keep on living, laughing and loving.

xoxo

That Darn Flu Bug

When did the 24 hour flu turn into the one week, pack your bags (oh wait, I didn’t even have a chance to pack my bags!)  we are staying at the hospital flu?  A little warning would have been nice – maybe a 30 second bit in the news in between the Charlie Sheen train wreck coverage. If the notice was mixed in there somewhere, I certainly missed it. 

A week ago Monday, I get a call from pork-chop’s Nonna (he spent the night there) that he had been throwing up all night and is now just laying around not wanting to move or talk or watch TV.  This is not like my happy go lucky, usually always smiling, little boy.  According to pork-chop this was all Daddy's fault “I told Daddy I didn’t want that Mac and Cheese for dinner”. 

You know your child is sick when you place him on the exam table at the doctor's office and he immediately lies down and falls asleep.  Diagnosis: dehydration - head to the ER for fluids.

It was there that I learned about this very nasty stomach flu that is going around reeking havoc on small children for 5-10 days.  Poor pork-chop was so dehydrated that it took the nurse four times to finally get the IV in.  He was screaming the entire time.  I held him and tried to reassure him that he will be ok, just a little poke and we can go lie down again…I'm sorry honey, just one more poke and we can lie down….come one nurse…just ONE more poke …by this time he knows I’m a liar and he starts calling out for Daddy.  Finally, the nurse gets it and the crying stops.  She asks me if I’m ok.  I said yes, but I have to admit I was slightly upset that he cried for Daddy that last time. 

It’s not a pleasant sight to see your baby lying in bed with an IV hooked up to his arm.  I sat right next to him on his bed pretty much the entire time. 

It’s now 11:00 p.m. Nurses have been in and out - but no one has given me an update on when we can leave.  I call for the doctor and I'm told we are in for the night. 

Just to add to all the fun we are having, Pork-chop wakes up to an ear infection. Lovely.  Good news is he seems to have perked up and we can go home. This was at 10:00 a.m. We left at noon.

Over the next couple of days he will hardly eat or drink and by Thursday afternoon we have a repeat of Monday, minus the constant puking. Back to the doctor we go. This time I'm armed with the overnight bag.  Back the hospital we go.  Back to the IV we go. This nurse got it the first time.  Within a couple hours of the IV, pork-chop was feeling much better.  In fact he was turning very aunry.  I’m assuming it was the boredom, but pretty soon the buttons on the bed became a game and the IV tubes became a jump rump.  I asked the nurse when we could leave. I was told because we are a repeat offender we were in for the long haul.  I would have gone crazy if I had to stay the night with him.  I quickly asked to see a doctor.  Pork-chop refused to go to bed and instead placed the footstool at the door opening and sat down until the doctor finally agreed to let us go home.  Amen. 

Unfortunately, a few days later, Nonna caught that darn little bug.  I felt horrible and guilty, but I’m grateful she was only down a day!

On Sunday the flu decided to attach itself to me.

During all this I was able to "pick" a few good finds to add to my personal "stuff" - a kid's desk for $5 and a sewing table for $10.  I also picked up six vintage amber juice glasses with a thumbprint design that I'm willing to sell if anyone is interested!

Until next time – live, laugh, love and stay away from that bug!

Who’s Helping Who with the Kindergarten Homework?

Hambone, who is five, comes home from school on Fridays with homework that is always due the following Tuesday.  It normally consists of two relatively easy assignments, which takes about ½ hour to finish. Usually, we make the not so very wise decision to wait until Monday night to do the homework. 

This past weekend was no exception, but at least I have legitimate excuses.  Assman had minor surgery on Friday and then I caught strep throat, which landed me in bed all day Sunday. Anyway, I neglected to perform my mom duty of checking backpacks.  When I finally did check his backpack on Monday, I found not only his normal homework, but he also had to make a working leprechaun trap, which was due on Friday.  The assignment was for the student, but encouraged help from mom and dad.  We helped him – mostly Assman did - I had to bite my tongue and just walk away a few times because he was not decorating it like I would have wanted, but this was HIS project not mine!  He wrote and cut out his own signs, painted, colored and glued. Assman designed and installed the actual trap. In the end Hambone constructed something that he was proud of.  

We were the first ones to place his trap on the table today.  As I watched the other traps start to trickle in, I thought to myself wow -it’s a good thing this is not a contest because Hambone’s trap would not fare well. It was very obvious that maybe, and that’s a BIG MAYBE most of the kids helped their parents with the traps. Maybe, they put some glue on something and that was about it. 

I admit, I did some research online to get some ideas on how to build the trap.  I was shocked to see at least two of the exact same traps on the Kindergarten table that I saw online.  They were next to perfect – Unbelievable!

 At least I have the proud satisfaction of knowing that my son followed the directions and constructed the majority of the trap on his own. Shame on you other parents for doing your child’s project and robbing them of feeling the satisfaction of a job well done!

Until next time – teach your kids to live, laugh and love

xoxo                  

A Tale of Dislike to Sisterhood

!!Warning!! – this is a long one – sorry.

Assman and I belong to a close knit group of friends. Some we see more than others, but no matter what everyone is always there for each other.  Like when Assman and I move every two years – they are always there and ready to lift heavy boxes and furniture with a smile.  Well, maybe more like there with a bribe of beer and food. They are actually an extension of our family and I love them all.  The original boys are the foundation of the group consisting of some fellows we will call Lumberjack, Portabella and DJ-man, who all went to high school together.  Assman entered the group through DJ-man.  Wives entered the circle one by one, then family members. Today our group consists of 13 people. 

When Assman and I started dating we did almost everything with Lumberjack.  I assume because at the time they were the only single ones. So I guess I just tagged along on a lot of their adventures .  Because of this, I have always felt a little closer to Lumberjack than the others – I think of him kind of like a big brother.  Everyone has family members that they feel closer to, but at the end of day they are all your family and you love them all.

Eventually, Lumberjack meets Chili Pepper and she was welcomed into the group. Naturally, I assumed that nothing would change and she would start doing everything with us. Boy was I wrong.  Slowly, the group noticed that Lumberjack was pulling away.  We all blamed Chili Pepper.  In retrospect, we should have, and some may have, blamed Lumberjack.  I heard through the grapevine that Chili Pepper referred to our houses as “frat houses” because all we did was drink and act obnoxious.  Uh – hello – it’s called having fun! One piece of advice that I learned from my dad that I actually remember is “never believe anything you hear and only half of what you see.” But of course, I did not follow those words of wisdom. I can only speak for myself, but I grew to dislike Chili Pepper from then on.  Not only for saying that about our fun loving group, but because it seemed as though once she started coming around, Lumberjack stopped.

Then, like six or so months later Lumberjack and Chili Pepper announce their engagement. Say what? Six months? Assman and I had been together for about five years. We built a house together, had a dog, but there was no ring on my finger. So of course, I did what every normal good friend would do and became instantly jealous. If I disliked her before, well you can imagine how I felt at this point.  However, at one of our frat parties and after a few sips of liquid courage, I sucked it up and had a talk with them.  I explained how I was feeling, apologized for my behavior and offered an olive branch.  Apparently they didn’t like olives.

Over the next couple years Lumberjack and Chili Pepper pretty much exited our group. Lumberjack and Assmans friendship faded and Chili Pepper and I certainly were not checking in with each other.  Baby showers were not attended. First birthday invitations were not sent.

Fast forward a few years and a miracle happened.  I do not remember how or why, but Assman and Lumberjack rekindled their friendship and Lumberjack and Chili Pepper slowly reentered our circle (which had grown by four since their absence). Kid’s birthday party invitations were sent and were attended. Weekend family visits were started and today we see them at least once or twice a week. Out of the group we see them and do the most with them.  They have two little boys the same age as ours and live pretty much the same crazy life we do.

It amazes me how much Chili Pepper and I have in common.  Gardening (she had a successful garden – but I’m not jealous – I actually benefit from this!). Cooking (we try to plan a Sunday afternoon cooking day once a month to make big batches of food to freeze). Knitting (we recently took a class together and are working on our very first projects).  A desire to learn how to sew (that can be added to my bucket list). Antiquing, garage saleing….I could go on.  One exception is, I would love to live on a farm one day (add that to my bucket list too!) and I’m pretty sure that does not interest her at all!

What started out as a dislike (I’m sure the feeling was mutual) for each other has blossomed into a great friendship, she is definitely one of my best friends and I feel like we are more like sisters. In fact, I think I may see her more than my own sister.

Until next time - live, laugh and love with your friends - xoxo

Decision Made

I hear the church choir singing now….Hallelujah! Hallelujah! A decision has been made, without help from anyone  (despite begging for it from my husband, who will now be referred to as Ass man [for non related reasons]). I think it’s easier, sometimes, to have people make decisions for you - it takes all the heming and hawing out - but even better, you have someone to blame if the plan fails.  But, I did manage this one all on my own.   

And the decision is…… picking. My storefront will not be popping up anytime soon, and it most definitely will not be a career change (at least not right away) but I am hopeful that it will bring a few extra bucks to my pocket (especially since that darn money tree has yet to sprout!).  And I really enjoy doing it.

On the weekends I will walk through people’s houses at estate sales and in the summer I will be hitting all the garage sales I can.  Last, but certainly not least - I will canvas the neighborhoods on garbage days as I pick the streets for the next hidden treasure. Look for me soon on a street near you! And, I can still do my research and investigating, which I love, because I will need to identify and learn about the value of the pieces I’ve uncovered.

I’m not to proud to tell ya’ll that I really like garbage picking. In fact, I’ve already had a few good picks that are proudly displayed in our home. Like the wooden bench that sits in front of the window in the front room.  Which is the “living room” and the “family room” anyway?  I can never remember, so in our house, it’s the front room and back room. Or the front room and ugly room.  I also found an old, cool metal tool/bin box for Ass man.  I’ve found dining room chairs and an old metal chandelier that we hung from a tree at our old house.  Most recently, I picked a highchair that is in pretty darn good condition and a big, sturdy basket that can be used for laundry, or toy storage.  Best part is that they were all FREE!!! I’m going to sell the highchair at a mom to mom sale I was already planning on having.

Becoming a real estate agent will happen, just not right now.  See, the class starts on March 29^th and runs for about five weeks, two nights a week in the evenings for either three or four hours a night.  Hambone and Porkchop have swimming lessons starting on March 21^st for seven weeks.  In addition, we have all those summer trips planned.  My brain is telling me that I should wait until fall to take the class. That way I will not feel like I’m missing out on precious family time. 

So there it is – my dilemma is solved.  I know everyone was losing sleep over it – wondering what I should do and all.  Because no one else has more serious dilemmas of their own – right?

Until next time, don’t forget to live, laugh love!

xoxo

Step 1: Make a Decision Already (Part 2)

I have a lot of things that I’ve always wanted to do -I guess it's my bucket list.  Here are a few that I can think of off the top of my head:

Become a better wife. I already think I’m pretty great, but my husband may say otherwise.

Become a better mom.  I don’t know how I could possibly love my boys anymore than I already do. They are my life. However, they are products of their father, and those of you who know him, know that I have my hands full!

Grow a successful garden. I’ve tried several times, but I certainly would not call them successful.

Buy a real camera and learn how to use it. I have a point and shoot, but I want (this just reminded me that my dad used to call me “Princess I Wanna” because I always used to say I want this or I want that. Guess I haven’t outgrown it!) one of those beginner fancy ones that takes nice clear pictures. One before the kids start college would be nice.

Learn sign language. I’ve wanted to do this one for a long time.  My great aunt is deaf. I’m disappointed that no one in our family has ever bothered to learn her language so she can be included in conversations. 

Become a real estate agent. This is what ties into yesterday’s post and my current dilemma. 

Not only do I want to become a picker, but I also would like to be a real estate agent. A friend of mine is a real estate agent. She and her husband have become very successful at what they do and she absolutely, positively LOVES her job. 

I’m a chicken shit.  I don’t like roller coasters, I don’t like go carts (even though I love going fast – I don’t want anyone to bump into me), this is probably the craziest one, but I have never driven myself through a car wash because when I first started driving I was scared I wouldn’t be able to line the wheels up right. So it doesn’t come as a surprise that I’m scared of major change. 

For the last couple weeks this has been weighing heavy on my mind.  Do I take the class and get my license? Can I do it semi-part time? I realize it will take up a lot of time and like I said before, I’m already using up most of my time with the job that pays me and my family job. 

My biggest concern right now is that I cherish my weekends – especially summer ones – with my family. After being cooped up all winter in Michigan we love to be outdoors and to go camping. In fact we already have tons of weekend trips planned with our bestest friends (really they are family). Am I going to be able to have my summer life and at the same time become a real estate agent?

I do believe I would be good at it. I would take into consideration all the things about our past Realtors that have bothered us. The fact that they don’t pay much attention to their clients wants is at the top. I love to do research and I love to tour people’s houses (My husband thinks it is kind of creepy that when driving by I will look into open windows to get a glimpse of how the house is decorated.) Most importantly, I would eventually be able to control my own schedule and have more time (except weekends?) with my family.

I’ve asked my husband for help in this decision. He is of no help. I’m told that I should do whatever I want. Most women would probably like to hear those words from their husband--I’m not most women.

There it is – Nicole’s dilemma. Please cast your vote! Do I attempt real estate so I can make some money on the side or do I go with my picking hobby, or do I do both? Can I do both? Do I want to do both? I think I’m on the verge of making a decision – maybe I will be able to post it tomorrow.
Until then keep on living, laughing and loving. xo
 

Step One: Make a Decision Already

Ok, so I know I have a passion for collecting…let’s just call it “stuff”. And yes, I get attached to my “stuff” sometimes.  I’m what my husband calls a pack rat.   I come from a line of pack rats starting from I believe my great grandparents.  If not from them, I know for a fact my Grandma Schoeny loved her “stuff” and my dad, well, I’m not sure if he loves it or not, but he sure has a lot of “stuff” too.  Granted, he inherited most of Grandma’s “stuff”, but I know he has done his share of pack ratting (yup – I’m pretty sure I just made that word up…my cousin and I have our own language made up of our own words – maybe one day I will blog about that. And yes, I get off track a lot – I apologize in advance for that. I have diagnosed my self with ADD, but that’s another blog in itself!) So, where was I? Ahhh, yes, my genealogy of becoming a pack rat.  My brother has inherited the bug and my sister somehow missed it.  My husband hates it.  I mean REALLY, REALLY hates it. But I can’t help it. I have a hard time getting rid of “stuff”.  He thinks one day, if I'm not careful, I could become a hoarder...nahhhhh I will never get THAT bad - will I???

Some of my non friendly pack rat family members and friends will probably call me a dork when they find out that I could sit for hours on end watching PBS’ Antique Road Show.  I love learning about the pieces and their history.  But, my new FAVORITE show is American Pickers.

I want to be a picker real bad. I love, love, love going to garage sales and flea markets.  I especially love looking for old, vintage finds.  It would be pretty cool to pick "stuff" and then sell it to other people, like myself, that like to collect "stuff". That way, I can enjoy the scrimmaging and I know in advance its not for me so I will not be attached to it.

My husband is on board – but even though I want to, I’m still not sure. There are lots of decisions to be made. I’m not great at decision making (he hates that too!) I mean I have an almost full time job and on top of that, I have a real full time job of being a wife and mommy to my little ham-bone and pork-chop boys. I’m being pulled every which – can I really handle being pulled in another direction – even though I really, really, REALLY want to?

This is where I am today - do I pick as a hobby or do I try and build a business from it?  Please help!

I also have another idea/desire that may affect this current dilemma of mine.  I will write about that one tomorrow.  Until then - live, love and laugh!