Me and my dad the cool cat.  1977 was the year.   

I got to see him this weekend when he stopped by for the night.  It was a quick trip.  Too quick, but he did get to witness the next basketball protege in our family.  My dad was a great basketball player in his day, being 6'3 it was a given, so when he saw E-dog in action, he was impressed and so proud.

What I admire about my dad is his ability to tell a story.  When I was growing up, he wrote for both of the major newspapers in town, and was a nationally syndicated columnist.  He wrote about all our major milestones growing up.  I tried not to read them (too embarrassing), but I remember all of my teachers always commenting on his column.  And I'd be "like I care?'  Now I do care, and I wish I could go back and read all the great embarrassing stuff he wrote about us. 

The most important thing my dad has given me is my love for reading and writing.  I can only aspire to write as well as he does.  He has a book coming out soon about his experiences as a Chicano journalist.  He talks about the time he had himself smuggled from Mexico to Chicago as an illegal, just for the story.  I remember driving around town when that story came out and his story made the front page.  It was such a trip to see a full size picture of him on all the street corners.  That's my dad.  Always pushing the limits, always questioning, and always ready to learn more.  Here is a collection of his poetry.  They're very old, but they're who he is. 

So, when my dad reads this little blog and tells me "mija, you write so well", I'm over the moon.  I realize he's my dad and still has to tell me those little lies, even though I'm 34 years old.  But dad, keep on lying to me, and I'm so glad that you get to read my stories for once.  Now if only I could come up with something totally embarrassing to write about him. 

Lightening, Thunder and Rain, Oh My

Can't write, think,  or keep my head upright.   And it's all because of the monsoon.  It hit full force yesterday.  I was at work so I wasn't able to see it for myself, but I heard it was quite a light show with all the lightning.  DAMN Lightening.

Lightning hit our air conditioner and we were without air for 15 hours.  It was scary people.  Not really, but the dog smells emanating from the carpet after the house was hot and humid for most of the day, those smells were scary. 

I had to spend half the day camped out on my mom's couch, attempting to nap.   The rest of the day was spent sitting at home with a wet towel around my neck waiting for the AC repair guy.  In other words I got no sleep today, and it hurts.  I've been tired before, but the stress of today was too much.  It's kind of funny that I read this post yesterday about her AC being out, and I was thinking how very glad I was that it wasn't my AC.  Then at 1 am I get a call from Trav saying "it's getting hot, the kids, the dogs, what will we do, we're all going to melt!"  Sure enough, when I got home, it was hot as hell.  With Travis off to work, It was up to me to get things fixed.

And fixed they are.  But by the time it was all fixed up, it was time to get ready for work, which is where I'm at now with 6 very painful hours to go.  At least I know that when I get off work in the morning, I will have my nice cool house back, and I can continue with my daily routine of languishing on my bed all day eating bon bons while my kids play too many video games.  Actually, the bon bons only happen in my dreams since the languishing consists mostly of very drooly, sweaty sleep. 

Reading "Takes me Away"

As usual, work gets in the way of fun, or does fun get in the way of work.  Whatever the case may be, while most sane people are sleeping, I'm awake, at work.  12 hour shifts are killers.  Good thing I only work 3 days a week.  That's the pay off for those 12 hour shifts.  The problem I'm having tonight is that every time I want to blog, someone needs something.  Like a doctor's appointment in Mayotte.  Bet you don't know where that is.  Neither did I.  I don't think I could do my job if it weren't for Google.  Go look up Mayotte and see what a challenge it might be to find someone a doctor there.

Enough about work and on to a fun topic.  Summer reading.  Are you bored yet?  Summer time is really a great time to sink into a good book.  I have found myself at the pool with no alcohol or adult companionship, so a good book was the only way to look like I'm not a lonely loser.  Although I am. 

I'd given up on the chick lit genre.  The formula is usually so predictable.  Odd ball funny girl longs to be loved and cool.  Odd ball funny girl gets a fabu job that makes her cool.  She finds love, loses love, finds it again and lives happily ever after.  Oh and she's no longer an odd ball. 

However, when life gets too heavy, like mine has, the only escape is Chick Lit,  like Swapping Lives by Jane Green.  I have always enjoyed Jane Green and since she's married with kids, her books are a lot more relatable to me than the single girl about town stories.  This book is kind of like Wife Swap on ABC, except a single girl swaps with a married woman.  It's a good breezy read and boy do I need a breeze right about now.  It's hot as hell around these parts.

And since I have no life these days, I started right up with Everyone Worth Knowing by Lauren Weisberger.  I enjoyed the Devil Wears Prada and even saw the movie, so this book was a no brainer.  It's an easy, fun read.

So, there you have it.  My exciting summer in a nutshell.  No Blogher conference for me.  Instead, I'll be hosting a birthday sleep over for about 5 boys ages 8 and 9.  And reading will be my only escape.  Reading is the new Calgon.  Who need Calgon when you have a good book to "take you away".

Blame it on the Heat

Summer vacations is turning me into a bad mom.  For one, my boys have become too familiar with the term "free balling it".  As in; "Mom, there's no underwear in my drawer" "Oops, sorry.  I guess I'm behind in laundry" "that's okay mom, I don't mind free balling it".  The first time they said that I just about lost it, I don't know where they get this stuff. 

Since they've been out of school, I've become very negligent in making sure they always  have clean clothes.  They live in swim trunks so can you blame me?  Not only that, but when it's 118 degress, every chore turns you into a giant sweat ball.  Must sit under fan with ice water at all times.  The only way to survive.

I'm enjoying the freedom a little too much though and I can't wait to get back into a routine.  We need help before our bums become permanently attached to the sofa

I Got Smacked

Who knew that getting smacked could feel soooo good.  I'm not talking kinky here.  I'm talking about the review I received from one of my daily reads I Talk too Much.  I've been reading this site for a while now, and I find it thoroughly entertaining.  It's great fun to read the review, then go visit the blog to judge for yourself.  I debated for a while whether or not to submit my site until my Sis double dog dared me.  I had prepared myself for a bad review, and was ready to be all cool about it. 

But guess what?

I got 4 smacks.  My sister called me a dork when I called her all giggly and giddy to tell her about my smacks.  And being the awesome, equally dorky  sister that she is, she congratulated me.  Yes, the dorkitude is in abundance today, but can you blame us.  Princess Pottymouth thinks I'm okay, and that rocks.  I'm not one of those cool aloof people who feign disinterest in what people think about them.  Because we all need validation, and when you get it, it feels so good. 

Edited to add that my Mom is better.  I can't believe I forgot to talk about her since I was so excited about my review ( I'm such a selfish bitch).  She came home from the hospital Wednesday.  She's pretty beat up though.  You should see the damage her poor boobs sustained from the airbag and seatbelt.  I've never seen that shade of purple on skin, other than tattoos.   Most of her pain is from the damage caused by the airbag and seatbelt.  I guess that's what happens when you're short and have to sit too close to the steering wheel.   The good news is that she's fine and her spirits are up, so Yay.  Like the saying goes "what doesn't kill us makes us stronger".

The Mama Drama Continues

Go away black cloud.  I've had enough!

My mom was in a car accident last night.  She's okay, just a fractured ankle, bruises, and a very sore chest where the seat belt and air bag hit her.  She was on her way home from work and she was feeling hopeful and cheerful.  Two things she hasn't felt in a while.  Then out of nowhere some guy ran a red light.  He ran it then tried to run away but some bystanders stopped him and held him down until police arrived.  My mom, meanwhile, was being pulled out of her car which was on fire.  Leave it up to my social worker mother to be worried about the "poor guy" who hit her.  We found out that he's Mexican, with no license and no insurance. 

When we stopped to think about the whole thing, we  realized that people are inherently good.  We have great people in Phoenix.  It's not all about serial killers and that stuff they've been talking about on CNN.  There are good hearted people who put their life out there for others.  Like the lady who helped my mom out of her car.  Humanity is not lost, and this is so promising and makes me feel better.

But, (there's always a but) can't a week go by without the drama?  Seriously.  Enough is enough.   She's okay, we're all okay,but the stuff that keeps on happening is so not okay.  I know that my mom's drama shouldn't affect my life directly, but it does.  That's what happens when your mom is a single mom, and all your life you've been her "partner".  She doesn't have a husband to rush to her bedside, she has us.  Me and Mal.  Just like when we were kids.  Just the 3 of us.  I love this about our little familia. 

Tomorrow will be interesting when we get to see what the "totaled" vehicle looks like.  The police said there are no windows and the doors won't close.  And then we have the daunting task of bringing mom home.  She was so sore tonight, she screamed whenever they moved her. I know she'll be worse tomorrow.  Maybe I can get her to share her Morphine with me.  Then we can all sit around happily braiding one anothers hair singing Bob Marley songs.   Life is good afterall. 

It's a bird, It's a plane, It's a...bullet?

This is what it looks like when a bullet goes through your front window.   And, my mom and grandma have first hand experience in this.  That's right, a bullet went through the front widow of my Mom's house, and it freaked the shit out of her. 

You might think my life is just full of drama, or that we live in a bad neighborhood.  But no, normally we don't have too much drama although we've had more than our fair share this year, and we don't live in a bad part of town.  This is, however, a big city.  Plus, we live in Mormon ville.  Seriously, Mormons make up a large majority of the population, and say what you will about the religion, but all the Mormons I've met are very clean cut and nice.  So, we don't expect this type of stuff to randomly happen in our neighborhood.  But it did.

And if my grandma had been sitting straight up, instead of crouched over like she normally does, she would have been hit.  As it was, it grazed her head and she had a tiny hematona on her head.  The stupid bullet went through their pantry and knocked all the cans over, and I just get a chill when I think of the power in that little piece of metal.  Even worse, is the power that is placed in the hands of complete idiots. 

The police at first did not believe that it was a bullet and insisted that it was perhaps, a marble.  Um, yeah, a marble.  After they left my sister found the bullet and called the police back.  Then my sister who was all shook up got a small thrill when the police called for CSI.  We don't know exactly how it happened, but I'm looking forward to reading the police report, which I hope we'll get on Monday. 

My cousin who's in Iraq right now had to get stitches due to some issue, which we don't know too much about.  Top secret or something.  Anyway, my Aunt Linda sent him an e-mail that told him that he's not the only one dodging bullets, but Grandma is over here dodging them as well.  HA! HA!  And I'm so glad that we can laugh about the whole situation now, because when I think of what might have or could have happened, I don't think my family could have handled another tragedy.   

Everyone is okay, and that's all that matters.  Now if only I could figure out how to deal with my mom and her very fragile nerves. 

My Boys...they are growing up

I look at these boys and wonder where the time has gone.  Seriously.  Where.  Has.  It.  Gone.  Where are those chubby hands I loved so much.  You know the ones with the cute dimples in the knuckles.  Their hands, faces, legs, everything about them is becoming more man-boy.   B.O. and all.   And I am scared.   

They're even becoming more concerned about their appearance.  E-dog does not want to cut his hair.  He says he likes it long and I finally figured out why.  He loves Drake from Drake and Josh and I think my kid's going for a shag do.  He cares about his hair, and he's only 7, almost 8.  I don't remember rebelling against my "bowl" hair cut until I was at least 12.  I don't want to stifle his "identity" though, so I guess I'll go with the flow.  A month ago he wanted bright red hair, so I guess a shag isn't so bad.  Although, I'll bet Grandpa Perry would beg to differ.

Since it's been summer vacation, I feel like I've gotten to know my kids again.  During the school year, everything is so busy and without the homework dramas, we get to talk about the stuff they enjoy.   They talk and talk, and tell be about this card with this power, or this new video game and how the found the cheat for it on the Internet, or any number of things that I just don't understand.  I try to understand, but I'm a girl, and an adult.  I force myself to listen, and I try to look interested because I'm afraid that one of these days when they really need to talk to me, they won't want to for fear that I don't ever listen to them.  So I smile and nod a lot.

Their latest  craze is freaking me out the most.  They're hooked on the game Harvest Moon.  It's kind of like Sims, but for kids.  It involves a farm they have to run, but first they must find a wife.  Oh, and they have to have a baby so that they have someone to take over the family farm.  It's a neat game, but they run and tell me "I want a wife with red hair", "mom, I got married", or my favorite "mom, come see my cute new baby".  I am so NOT ready to hear this type of rhetoric no matter how simulated it is.

They really do grow up fast.  Take the time to enjoy the feeling of those chubby little arms around your neck.  It really doesn't last long enough.

Summer Survival

So, I had a full week of freedom.  Well a certain type of freedom, but when you're a mother are you ever really free.  Probably not.  But I'll tell you what.  Freedom from work makes one a very nice, patient mother.  I'm sure that if I was off for more than 1 week I'd be crying to go back to work.  Being home for that week made me so nostalgic for my days as a SAHM.  Now with my kids being as old as they are, I couldn't justify staying home full time (I'd actually be expected to clean and stuff), so here I am again.  At work.

And I'm older too.  The birthday was perfect.  My mom, sister and grandmother came over for Italian Beef (chuck roast, jar of peppercinni peppers, packet of dry Italian dressing,  put it all in the crock pot and you've got a very yummy, easy meal, oh and you put it in a nice roll for a great sandwich).  After my mom did my dishes and left, I laid in bed and read, and read, and read.  It was heaven, well my heaven at least.  I might have also napped.  And that is all we did.  This year we skipped the requisite holiday celebrations, ie. fireworks, bar-b-ques, and all that stuff.  Which was nice, because when you're birthday is on a holiday, people forget.  Don't get me wrong, we enjoy our holidays, but it's also nice to lay low and not get all caught up in all that crap.  Bah humbug.  Hey, at least we celebrated me, and that's all that counts, itsn't it.

So, the past week has been simplicity and bliss.  Our social lives pretty much consist of going to the YMCA these days.  Between basketball, swimming lessons, and my new obsession with power yoga, we spend a lot of time there.  Speaking of power yoga, today is the first time that I'm not sore all over from a power yoga class.  Which, Yay for me.  I was sooooo sore the first few times, so I'm proud to, first of all be able to hold my poses, but also to be able to walk without flinching and cursing my damn hamstrings.  The guys over at Yogabeans have got nothing on me now. 

All in all, I'm enjoying the summer.  Other than the melt the flip flops right off your feet, hot ass weather, it's not so bad.  To think we only have a little over a month to go before school starts.  I think I'll make it.  I'm a survivor (Bey0nce song playing in my head).

Holy Cow, Travis is 37!

My husband never ceases to make me laugh with the silly, often times nonsensical, things he says.   Like this morning.

"No more sex in the morning.  It makes my legs too wobbly".

  "Um, okay".

"Seriously. It makes me too weak, and slows me down.  I have a lot of confidence, but the wobbly legs are hard to deal with".

Today is his birthday, and I can't believe that I was there when he turned 23, and now he's 37.  Where have the years gone?

Happy Birthday Travis.  Thanks for staying soooo young at heart and for always making me laugh.  Although, I do believe that I'm the only one who would laugh at your jokes which is probably why we're still together. 

Here's to another birthday celebration together.