Dapoppins

Most of my friends know that I have a serious problem.

Abut a year ago, after being caught indulging in my secret problem in a local park, an intervention was staged.  Friends and family gathered about, their faces were serious.  Full of concern.  At first I thought it was a surprize birthday party, until my best friend Bee started passing out little pamphlets to everyone about how gently convince me to change my evil ways.

"Poppins, you have a problem," Bee said with a sad shake of her head.

"Huh? Where's the diet Coke? How can you have a birthday party without diet Coke?" I asked.

"I'll get you your diet Coke fix later, dear," said my husband with a beleaguered expression.  If you know any men who have been married to caffeine addicts for more than ten years, you probably have seen this expression before.  Deep, sad eyes, but sort of tight around the mouth. 

"We need to talk to you," Bee tried to continue as I searched the dining room for presents.  Where were the gifties?  This was all about me, wasn't it?

"Dapoppins. Please sit down. We need to talk about what happened. In the park."

"In the park? Oh, that. No big deal, it was all cleared up."  I blushed a bit, embarrassed. I mean, anyone would be embarrassed, wouldn't they? My blush was accompanied by a a smile. I couldn't help it.  A satisfied cat-in-the-cream smile as I remembered the park.

Bee kneeled before me and took my hand.  My sister-in-law and niece scooted close.  Someone got my mom on the speaker phone so she could listen in and offer sage advise. 

Thank goodness my Dad's Wife wasn't there.  She had caught me indulging once in the bathroom of her house and proceeded to lecture me up one side and down the other.  The woman isn'tshy about giving her opinion about anything, and until that day, I had never even considered that my little fetish might be detrimental to anyone.

I smiled at Bee's earnest face.  I kinda liked her there, kneeling.  You know, she is about a foot taller than me, and always makes me feel like a lawn gnome who forgot his hat.  "Dapoppins, you know you have a problem, don't you?"

"Uhhhhhh-"

 "It was alright when you were able to keep your problem within family and friends, but at the park you forgot yourself didn't you, and that wasn't the first time.  You can't keep doing this.  Your children are going to grow up warped and think every body does this..."

"Well, I--"

Bee wouldn't let me bring out my list of excuses.  "No. No Dapoppins. You just can't go around pinching bottoms.  You can't. It just isn't done.  You really scared those people at the park."

I looked down shamefully.  There it was out in the open.  Where everybody could see it.  I PINCH BUTTS.  I can't help myself.  Playing tag, going up the stairs, if there is a kid in front of me with a nice round bottom I want to pinch it.  Not a painful pinch.  Just a gentle little-squidge.  And then the kid squeaks and giggles and I want to do it again.  I Butt pinch so often that my younger kids, and Bee's own daughter, will wiggle their behinds at me and say, "Have a litlle Butt!" Just to tease me.

"We were playing tag," I offered to Bee lamely.

"You have a problem.  You need to keep your hands to yourself."


Okay, all that happened ages ago, and I have been going to Bottom Pinchers Therapy for awhile. But last night my seven year old came out of the bathroom nakid and it was so totally-butt-open-season that I could not help myself.  Who can resist that sort of temptation.  I managed to get one pinch in before he squealed and shut the door, deciding to get dressed.


I think I need more therapy.

We spent Independance Day with family.  The plan was to be at their house by four.  At about two, I was thinking a nap sounded better than actually getting dressed for the day, but my husband pulled that guilt trip, you know the one about, "You promised the kids, what are you going to tell them?" and, "You set this all up, my family is expecting us,"  and, "There will be food."  I'm not sure which argument worked the best on me, but we made it to my Brother and Sister -in- Law's home in record time. 

I love my husbands family, we come from really different backgrounds.  ---Separate sides of a river, North and South.  There is so much that makes us different.  They tan...I rust.  They drink Crystal Light, I drink diet-coke.   You know, those sort of culture differences that make life in a family interesting.  My Sister-in-law is clever, and organized, and she enjoys a good family gathering.  She made baby back ribs just for us!  YUM.  Serisoulsy. I love my sweet meat.  My husband shuns anything with a bone in it.  But I grew up with good BBQ.  Sister-in-law had never made ribs before, and had them all ready to go on the grill when we arrived, slathered in a yummmmmmmy sauce.  She asked us if we had any idea how to make them.  "They take as long to cook as hamburgers right? Just throw them on the grill?"

I guess that depends on how you like them, chewy and slightly raw, or tender and fully cooked.

I love that we all had a good laugh about the ribs as we googled recipes.  People.  This is something exactly like I would do.  Prepare a new dish, for company, that I have never prepared before.  Like the time I tried to make real chocolate frosting for a birthday cake.  The Party was in session and I was sending my husband out for last minute canned frosting while a big pot of lumpy, over cooked chocolate mess hardened on the stove.  Or like the time I tried to make matzaball soup.  I have eaten it.  Seems simple enough---but the matzaballs have to sit for a bit before hand and there is no cheating on this.  Unless you like cracker rocks in your soup. Yeah, that is de-lish!  Now my kids think that is how it is suppose to be.  So I loved that Sister-in-Law could be teased by one and all and yet the day was still full of fun and laughter. 

Plus, there were plenty of munchies...fruit...salads...and deserts.  I ate so much I am still full.

And the ribs turned out great.

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Notice the pale backgroud?  I was looking for a new tempalte with lively color, but not too many distracting images or without any plain tan or brown or orange, and without a HUGE header and I haven't found it yet.


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No jobs yet.  Looking. Frantically. 



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I am going to visit everyone in my reader, and in my fav blogs folders!  This is my goal for the week. Maybe I will visit twice!  Yeah! Go me!

I am just a bit crazy.  My husband said,"I am not even listening to you."

My Dad said, "Dapoppins, I am gonna wring your neck if you don't quit talking like that,"

My girl friend laughed and said, "I don't think so."

But I am sure that I am right and everybody else in the world is wrong.


POSITIVE.  Because we all know, that A BABY would fix everything in my life.

(((pats readers on back and hopes no one is choking)))

Yes. I said it. You can quote me on it.  If I could have another baby, time would stop for me.  The world would yield to all the needs of my baby and me,  I would still have another child at home instead of preparing to wave goodbye to my youngest in September... I would have a good reason for being fat and eating whatever I want, a good reason to take long naps, a good reason for being cranky.  A good reason for staying at home instead of having to go to work, because. Seriously. IT IS ALL ABOUT ME!

I am having a bit of a crisis here.  Too much change. And if I could have another baby, I would be so consumed with my body functions that I wouldn't notice anything going on around me.  A baby in my life wouldn't signal change, just a slight stretching. Since I have done it before, I know I can do it again.  I would worry. I would stress, and I would have excuses for frequent pitiful outbursts instead of having people calmly take my by the hand and saying that, "Change is okay, change is good. You need this."

It is a good thing we don't have fire-arms in this home.  I am just saying.  The next person who tells me change is good might just come face to fire-arm.  If I had one. Which I don't.

This is the the list of here-to-fore mentioned and unmentioned changes;

1.  I am applying for a job as a pre-school teacher.  I can do this. I will enjoy this.  I would rather stay home.
2.  IF I get teaching job, kids will all go to private school full time. Kids really want to go to school with other kids.
3.  My husband is making a job transition.  That is, come September, there is no job for him.  He is looking not only for a new job, but a new career.  And he is happy about it. Makes me want to smack him. How dare he be positive?
4.  My youngest child, who did not go to pre-school because I wanted to protect her from germs and because I would rather sleep in, is going to go to Kindergarten. My last baby.  My last reason for getting out of bed. Yeah, I know, that is exaggerating. I would get out of bed eventually anyway, but she makes me get up, and while she sips her juice in my lap, I sip my coffee and check my email.  No more of that when I have to get myself and four kids ready for school.

If I had another baby 3 of those changes would not take place.  I would have a young baby to snuggle instead of my big girl, and I would have to stay home to take care of young baby and protect him from germs and the outside world.  And the boys would just have to home school their sister too, so that I can take long naps,  RIGHT?

So.  Now, how can I get my tubes untied without paying for a doctor visit?  Hummmmmmmm?

(please note, there is no baby in my future, change is inevitable, and I reserve the right for kicking and screaming along the way.)

I have been trying to be more positive and grateful lately, but discovered that I have a serious problem with that. I mean, heck. How can you be positive and still be viciously sarcastic?  How can I be grateful and still over exaggerate all my daily trials and tribulations so that my life seems interesting and entertaining?  Tell me How?

Example.  It is a beautiful day.  The sun is shinging, the birds are litterly singing outside my window. 

That is dull. Dull dull dull, no laugh, chuckle, or shared understanding to be found in that.  I mean, who cares. Yeah. So?  It might be intersting if the sun was shining, the birds were singing, I took the kids to the park and saw Hugh Jackman there with his kids.  And oh he is really such a good dad, watch him lift his dauthter over his head. Look at his smile. His sholders. His muscles...O'come on. You know you want to look.

But Hugh hasn't moved in down the street, and the sun is lovely. Yada yada yada.

Example 2:  It was such a beautiful day today I decided to clean my bathroom. First I put on my toxic suit, waders, rubber gloves, mask, hair net and pulled out the industrial stuff.  Then I opened the window because I couldn't breathe, and a bird flew in lit on my arms.  More birds joined me, until we were humming a little tune. Squirrels came, and  grew ten times their size from the fumes but still had happy Disney smiles and helped me clean the sink...errr something like that. But at least that's interesting.

Pay no attention to the blogger behind the curtain, folks. She is just a tad bit nutts.

I haven't been blogging. Or visiting much. If I haven't visitied you I am telling you right now it's not YOU, its me. You are wonderful. Kind. Humerous.  Entertaining.  Really you are.  So what if you haven't showered all week because you would rather blog. What do I care.  I haven't showered either.  It has nothing to do with you or your fabulous writing skills or your enchanting imagination. 

No. It is all me. Just me.  Please don't cry.  You knew this day would come.  In the beginning, we were perfect for each other. I liked eggs sunny side up, so did you. But I didn't really. I was just saying that to make you happy.  I wanted you to like me.  I did. I would say anything to make you happy. But I wasn't being true to you. I wasn't being honest.  YOU deserve better.

No. This isn't the end.  I will still be here. I will still check on you.  Did you finally buy that Snuggie you have been eyeing?  I want to know.  But things are changing. I am going to be more busy.

I am going to get a job.

This music is stuck in my head.  But I can't think why. 

A belated thanks to our vetrans and military.




 I can't belive that it is June. I have got some serious procrastinating skilzs. I think I should be nomminated for something.  Perhaps the award could contain something caffinated, so that I can have more energy while enjoying my procrastinating??? What do you think?

Kids are healty, I am healthy (as far as I know) and change is on the horizon. 

Ch-ch-cha- change.

Yeah. If you have ever read this blog before you know that my least two favorite things in the world are CHANGE and buggy worms on the driveway.

For years, I have fortified myself against things like change.  I don't move the furniture around.  The same pictures always hang on my walls, I not only still have my peach princess prom dress, I can still wear the darn thing and look hawwwwt.   Heck, I have even kept the same husband for a number of years! 

But change is on the horizon.

YUCK.

Maybe I just need to turn up the music.  Anyone want to play that video again?

Real Mothers don't eat quiche; they don't have time to make it.  
It is marked by the progression of Mommy to Mom to Mother... 
                                
4 YEARS OF AGE - My Mommy can do anything!        
8 YEARS OF AGE - My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot!         
     
65 YEARS OF AGE - Wish I could talk it over with  Mom. 
          
The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair. The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides. The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, but true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows!  

There was a point to my March Pity Party.  There really was.  I was going to get it all out, feel sorry for myself,  share in the misery, the dullness, the embarrassing moments that still haunt me, and then, instead of being a wallow-er, a pig in the mire so to speak, I was going to put on my happy hat, and my rose colored glasses and play the "glad game" for the rest of the year.

Yep. That was the plan.

AND I was going to get things done. Finish what I start. Be responsible and reliable and readable, the three most important R's of blogging.

But I haven't' gotten around to any of that.  I think I might still be stuck in March.  And avoiding you because I haven't fulfilled my self-inflicted obligations.

And because I haven't visited in a bit. And because I love using And to start sentences because it makes me feel accomplished, I will leave you with some eye candy only a grandma will care about.  Yes. It is time for those unbelievably cute photos of my unbelievably cute kids.

Special NOTE:  Thank you Mom, for saying while visiting us, "I don't know how you do it..." Those seven little words make me feel so justified in so many ways.

 
Snacking on frozen blueberries.




This is what happens when you give a 5 year old make-up for her birthday...




Spring views at the Portland Japanese Gardens.



Visitning the Portland Zoo with unknown woman who might or might not be my mom...



My children with that woman who keeps following us...



Blooms from the Chinese Gardens



Posing before going to church on Easter

  My Mom's new baby