A Happy Mama's Day, 2012

Now that I'm in retail, I have a whole new perspective on Mother's Day.  It blows Christmas out of the water....when it comes to busy...at least in our little gift store.  We had a crazy 2 weeks in the store and I was beyond exhausted by Saturday night.


The difference in the busy between Christmas and Mother's Day?  Men.  When men come in the store, they have a helpless stare in their eyes.  They need help.  And that help can be exhausting.  Or they bring in the kids and let the kids pick something out.  And one must bite their tongue because it might possibly be the one thing I would never pick out in the store and I suspect the "mama" isn't going to love it.   But it sure feels good when finally....after a lot of suggestions...they say "that's the one I want."  Multiply that by 1000 men and kids in the last two weeks...and I was so ready for a Saturday night out with my own family to celebrate me being the "mama."  Off my feet...with a glass of wine. 

This is the ritual at our house before we leave.  Everytime. 

I say, "Let's get a treat!"  and they all surround me. 

"Let's get a treat" is how I surround them and lock them up.

  I throw out a treat to each dog...as I call out their name.

  They wait patiently for their turn.  Smart?  I like to think so.

  Addicted?  Definitely.  Locked up while we're gone? Absolutely.

I really just want you to look at those back legs on Harry.  I love him. 

And this just makes me love him more.  Poor little thing. 

 He's got bad back legs.  As he sits and waits his turn, they slide out even further.

  He pulls them back in and they slide right back. 

It's worth dragging out the treat process just to watch this. 

 Love.

We met up with my sister and her family (minus one who had to work) at Houston's.

  Houston's never takes reservations so were prepared for a long wait.

  Chuck drops us off to get our name in and he parks. 

 I walk up to the Hostess and she asks me, "Do you have a reservation?" 

 Me, "No, you don't take reservations...." 

 She says, "Yes, we do...." 

 WE have been going to Houston's for years and years and

have called and asked for reservations often

 and they always say they don't take them. 

 And suddenly they do. 

 Good to know. 

Anyway, we had a great time waiting and were seated within 30 minutes.

  Cameron and Will were given instructions

to be sure Jordan was represented. 

 So they printed out a large photo of her and carried her with us. 

Jordan, you watched me open cards...it really felt like you were there. 

  That brown blob on Will's card is the attempt to get Harry's paw print. 

Will said Harry immediately pulled his paw back.

  Really?

We were seated in a large booth against a wall of open shelving. 

 The bottom shelves were full of old National Geographics...

see the yellow over Will's shoulder?  When our kids were little,

they were scared of the girl on the front of the June, 1985, issue. 

 This issue was put on each other's pillows now and then 

to scare each other when they woke up.  

So they looked for this issue along the stacks in the shelves....

knowing it was an early 80's issue.  It was in the stack right behind us. 

 That is coincidence.

And that called for a photo. 

Of course, we had to get this photo. 

Who can look the most like her? 

 Sorry, Jordan didn't stand a chance.

We ended Saturday watching our favorite local talent, Jon McConnell. 

 This guy is the same age as Jordan...so literally, I could be his mama. 

 He is so talented and so humble.  I just know he is going to make it big one day.

  He plays in bars to pay the bills, but he also plays Christian music

 in a church every Sunday morning....

living on about 2 hours of sleep between Saturday nights

 and Sunday mornings. 

Sunday morning, Will gave me his gift...a tea cup and saucer...and this balloon. 

 Harry was scared to death of it. 

So I tied it on the refrigerator door to keep it away from him. 

Not saying I'm the Best Mommy, but the balloon does. 

Speaking of Mommy. 

I've never been called anything but "Mama." 

Never mother, or mom, or mommy.

Is that a Texas thing?   A Southern thing?

Harry.  Being calm. 

Just had to throw this one in.

Chuck surprised me with a gift card to Magpies...where I work. 

Believe it or not, I spend very little money there. 

Not because I don't want a lot of it, but because my impulse to buy

 the cute stuff that comes in has time to subside during the day. 

I will enjoy spending the gift cards....over and over in my mind....before I finally actually spend them.  Chuck was proud of the fact that he bought the cards right under my nose.  He brought me lunch on Saturday and handed over a typed note to the other girls. 

I had no idea.  Which gave him a big kick.

Have I mentioned I hate surprises?  Well, obviously not this kind.

We ended Mama's Day in my favorite place. 

I look back at the years that flew by and try hard to remember these adults as babies, as toddlers, as children.  We all survived the crazy years of diapers, bottles, laundry and homework...and arrived at this day safe and healthy and beyond blessed.  I don't take it for granted.  I know there were a lot of hard days...hard times...but that only makes it more of an accomplishment. 

This post is for me.  To remember.  To be thankful. 
Because it all goes so fast. 

I am so proud of the newborn babies that are now newborn adults. 

Thank you for calling me "mama."

Barnacles and Floaters

Contrary to the title, this post is not about the ocean.  

I wish it were.  But it is about barnacles and floaters.

A few years ago, I had a place on my back that was bothersome.  This was mostly because it was right where the hooks of my bra landed across the middle of my back.  I had Chuck look at it a time or two to see if it was changing or if it looked like something suspicious.  He would take less than a millisecond and declare it fine.  I never felt quite comfortable with his opinion, so I got a second one.

The dermatologist I go to is the most beautiful woman....flawless skin....not a pore is detectable...she literally looks airbrushed.  Not only is she beautiful, but she is extremely kind and good and so popular it can take up to 3 months to get an appointment with her. 

So I made the appointment and waited my 3 months.

When it was finally the moment of my long awaited appointment and she walked in the room with all of her flawless beauty, she declared the spot "a barnacle."  A barnacle of aging.  Just how my skin ages she said matter of factly.  She burned the barnacle off and, my appointment, that I had waited 3 months for, was over in less than 15 minutes...start to finish. Plus, of course, the hour or more I waited in the Waiting Room. 

I tell you this, because a couple of months ago, I noticed another spot in the hairline above my left ear.  It didn't hurt, but it was bothersome and felt like a ......barnacle.  Because I am constantly tucking my hair behind my ear, I would feel it a hundred times a day.  Again, I had Chuck check it out and in the bat of an eye, he said it looked like nothing to him. 

His exact words, "yeah, I see something but it looks like nothing."

But that "nothing" was a barnacle, I just knew it...because it felt the same.  I needed to call that dermatologist and get on her waiting list again.  But I kept forgetting to make that call.  So the other day, I looked up when a customer came in and it happened to be another dermatologist that I had been to a few times years ago.  I asked my co-worker,  "Would it be totally inappropriate for me to see if she'll take a look at my barnacle?"  I said this facetiously...of course.

And as I said it, I reached up to the place above my ear
 but inside my hairline to feel the rough little barnacle. 

And y'all...........

IT WAS GONE!

I am not kidding!  It's gone!

And I swear it was just there the day before this...and only a few days before my co-worker and I were talking about skin stuff....barnacles and such....which is why I asked her the facetious question.  It's been there at least 2 or 3 months. 

What the heck happened? 

Do you think it could be that all the chemicals in my hair products burned that sucker right off?

Whatever, it's gone.

But you know what isn't gone?

The floaters in my eye.

Nope...still dealing with those.

Like looking through a dirty shower glass door.  If you see me and it looks like I'm winking at you, I'm probably not.  Just looking through that bad eye with the good eye closed to check on the progress of my floater.

Talk about fun.  This aging is a riot.

Amen.