Drugstore Cowboy

Have you ever heard the phrase “drugstore cowboy”?

It refers to a person who is dressed up like a cowboy and that’s all they have; the clothing. No horse, no land, no talent…their boots are un-scuffed and unused.
If there are drugstore cowboys, then I am a drugstore writer.

I have the look but not the “goods” - not even the talent. I have a laptop that I write on, but like the cowboy with his boots, I have nothing to show for it. I even have a tea kettle and five kinds of tea, so that I can sit with my laptop sipping my hot tea sporadically as I write. And of course I’m sitting in a sunny place with that dazed sort of look, as if my thoughts are somewhere else. Which would also be true, but it is because of the lack of sleep. I wish I had a horse….

*I am not fishing for complements. I just thought it was a funny idea. But I wouldn't mind hearing how awesome I am...

Rapunzel

My children love it when I tell them fairytales. Rapunzel is their favorite. When I tell them the story, I make up a song that Rapunzel sang while waiting for her handsome prince to rescue her. ( She is very vain and sings about her long golden hair.) I mentioned once that Banana's long hair was like Rapunzel's. Banana took the complement to heart. She made up her own song with phrases like, “I’m Rapunzel. Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel … Rapunzel … Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel … Rapunzel…”
Ever since Banana cut off her own beautiful hair she now sings, “I’m the bad witch because I cut off Rapunzel’s hair. She has to wear boy clothes and a boy hat. Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel… Rapunzel…”

Lands' End Coupons

Lands' End is having a special sale for Friends and Family of employee's. I know that it is just a promotion to get people to buy things but I have a stack of coupons with a promotion code and pin #. It runs from April the 17-20Th and it is 30% off of regular priced items. If this is something you are interested in call, email me, or leave a comment.
I can't believe I just wrote a blog post like this...

A lesson in closet climbing

It wasn’t the first time she was stuck in the closet; turning the toy bin upside-down and climbing into the dark corners.
“Get Mommy, I’m stuck.” She cried to her watching little sister.
Banana, the four-year-old, ran as if she had heard the word “ice cream” - her small feet sounding bigger and heavier than her size - to find me.

I was hoping to make this situation an opportunity for learning a lesson.
“You got yourself stuck, even after I warned you. You can learn to get yourself out.”
I remember my mother giving me this same message. I never liked it. I can remember thinking angrily knowing that my Mother had the ability to make not only the problem disappear but also the consequences.
“What! Use my brain?” I remember thinking. “What do you think your job is for Mrs. Parent?” I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t just make it all go away and often I felt abandoned and afraid.
I didn’t feel any better giving the message from the other end either.

Banana's eyes grew wide and she didn’t understand why I didn’t jump out of my seat full-speed ahead to the rescue.
Instead, I closed the book which was in my lap and listened carefully to the screeches.
Taking one last quizzical look over her shoulder, Banana returned to her sister’s side.
“I can’t hold on! My arms are tired. Waaah.”

I hadn’t moved when Banana returned to beg me into some form of action. Banana’s eyes were beginning to glisten and in them I could see that she believed the end was drawing nigh.

Slowly I stood up, taking the time to turn around and set my book down, before making my way down the hall to the girls’ room. Their room looked like a “clothes and toy” battle had taken place; piles of both in mounds of twisted mangled shapes. I stepped over dolls stripped of clothing, their unblinking eyes gazing somewhere in the distance.
I stopped just in front of the closet door.
My daughter didn’t realize that I was in the room. Her back was to me and she was hanging onto two parallel poles. Her whole body was shaking.
“I’m tired. Help me!”

And then I did what I told her I wasn’t going to do.
I helped her out.
But it wasn’t the way she had wanted. I still made her do the work.
I carefully took her left heel and told her to lower it down. She did, but I told her she needed to lower it even farther.
She began to cry again.
“I’m too tired; my leg can’t stay like this.”

She was stepping down and couldn’t feel or see a thing.
She was scared.
She didn’t know that she was only a foot above the overturned bin. She didn’t want to commit because to her, there was nothing there. Her legs and arms were tired and she knew that after a point she would not be able to pull herself back up. But she decided to trust me.
She dropped down and landed on the bin.
It was over. She was safe.
She gave a sobbing sigh, and then was on her way to the next thing without a care in the world.

Dear Father who art in Heaven. Please do not let anyone know how much I whine and cry when I find myself in scary/unfamiliar situations. I will try to be still and know that you are God. And though I can not see it, you have an overturned tub for me to land on.

Liar...

I’m lying to my two-year old; a boy who can not even tell a lie. WHAT kind of a sick mom am I?

My man child has really sensitive skin so even before he can make a BM I smother his bum in A&D. Desitin is too white and I feel horrible wiping his whole bum in it. I don’t know how anything can be better then grease, but a mother does what she can.
Anyways, now that he is used to having a greasy bum, (How could you ever get used to something like that anyways?) he throws a fit when I don’t. When I don’t feel like greasing him up but don’t want him to throw a fit, I take the tube from his chubby outstretched hand and fake it.
Yep, it’s true. I take a single finger, pat his cute little cheek twice like an indulgent drummer and call it good.
It works every time.