Category Archives: Daily Life

The Travel Scavenger Hunt

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Brooklyn Bridge

We love to travel with our kids and…

…When they were little, the primary goal was just to get there and back again without losing our sanity. Be it by car or plane, the trip was deemed a success if accomplished with the minimal amount of tearing out of hair (our own) or disturbing the peace (a group effort).

However, as they got older, we began to want them to actually get something out of the experiences.

And thus, the Travel Scavenger Hunt  was born…

I swear, it really works!  Go here –  over to ParentSociety.com – to my article about how it works and how to make your own Travel Scavenger Hunt – trust me, you kids will love it!

For more Sweet Spot Travels: Go Here!

Teen Talk: Episode #6

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We now interrupt our regularly scheduled program to bring you another episode of  Teen Talk.  I assure you, everything you are about to hear is real and unedited. Please, do not try this at home. Unless your Mom has a good sense of humor.

One day, Teen discovered the new chalkboard Mom had put up.

chalkboard3

The End.

Teen Talk: Episode #5

Teen Talk: Episode #4

Teen Talk: Episode #3

Teen Talk Episode #2

Teen Talk Episode #1

For more views by Teen Go Here: Teen Talk

The Chaos of a Newly Working Mom

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Today, it would be nice if I was doing something like this:

Santa Cruz, CAOr maybe even this:

pig chillinBut, in all likelihood,  my day will probably look more like this:

messyhouse2

In September, I began the task of looking for a job outside my home.  It turned out to be a much more arduous process (and at times embarrassing – Bag Lady Goes a Job Hunting) than I had anticipated.  But at long last, in December I was offered a full time position (someone finally took pity on me) and officially changed my status from WAHM (work at home Mom) to WOHM (work outside the home Mom).

I expected a transition time, what I got was chaos.

Head over to ParentSociety.com where today, I share the whole messy story and what I plan to do about it!

Go Here: The Chaos of a Newly Working Mom

I Have a Feeling We’re Not in Kansas Anymore

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Muffin_Top

I had a dream.  No, not one of those “lofty” dreams like Martin Luther King, Jr.  Just a dream.  Come to think of it – it was more of a nightmare.  Honestly, I  usually do not write about this type of thing on Sweet Spot.  However, the dream has haunted me ever since.

It started out simply:

There I was in my kitchen one morning,  wanting (more like needing desperately) to make coffee – a typical morning. But, try as I might, I could not find the coffee machine, anywhere.  I searched and searched.  Finally, I did find a machine for making coffee – but it was miniature, like Barbie-sized.  Anyway, it was of no consequence about the missing coffee machine because it was then I realized there were no coffee grounds to be found anywhere in the house either.

Quickly, I grabbed my kids (no dream is really a nightmare unless your kids are somehow involved) and we headed out in search of coffee.  We didn’t have to go far, for very quickly we came to a place whose countenance promised loads of coffee.  I quickly stepped up to the counter,

Me:“Coffee, please”

Her: “Sorry, no coffee”.

Me:  “What? “Well, where can I get coffee.”

Her:  “Nowhere.”

Me:  “What are you saying?

Her:  “This is the Alternate Universe.  There is no coffee in the Alternate Universe.”

Me:  “Alternate Universe?  What?  How did I get here?”

Her:  “You thought the wrong thing.”

Me:  “How do I get back?’

Her:  *shrugs*

 “Also”, Alternate Universe Girl continued, “In the Alternate Universe you don’t have to even order.  We know exactly what you want.”

No sooner had Alternate Universe Girl uttered this statement when she handed each of my kids a bag with one donut each inside and then to me she handed…

a box of a dozen muffins with NO MUFFIN TOPS.

The end.

Seriously, the Alternate Universe sucks. Don’t ever go there…

(Please, do not attempt dream analysis.  I fear the results would be futile and not a little bit scary).

Down with Fish Tyranny!

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My son got a 5.5 gallon fish tank for Christmas – something he had long wished for.  The day came to go purchase the lucky inhabitants.  My son dutifully put in colored rocks, hooked up the light, put together the filter, let it run for a few hours, and “Voila!” ready for fish!

Our trek to the pet store was actually twofold.  One, to acquire the perfect fish for his tank and two, to pick up potty training pads for puppy-size-of-a guinea-pig  my mom & dad in-law had UN-preparedly acquired (which is a story in an of itself and will likely be filed under the heading – Sounded Like a Good Idea at the Time).

Anyway, back to my fish story.

Once at the Pet Store, we confidently headed for the fish section and engaged the attendant.  However, before we could even start our fish inquiry, we were barraged with questions.

“Has your tank been running for a minimum of two days?”

“Umm, no, more like two hours.”

“Have you treated the water in the tank so the fish don’t get stressed?”

“Fish stress-out?”

“Do you have thermometer in the tank?”

“Well, no.”

“Is the water the right temperature for tropical fish?”

“Yeah, probably.  The guppies we had in the fish bowl seemed to do fine…well, two out of three anyway.” (In retrospect, I probably should have kept this last tidbit to myself).

“Do you even know how warm it needs to be for Tropical Fish?”

“Warmish?”

“Do you have a heater in the tank?”

“No.”

“Have you considered tank décor?”

(ok, she didn’t ask this but I know it was coming!)

I sensed where the inquisition was going and so did my son whose eyes were beginning to well up in disappointment.  I offered to him that we could go ahead,  get the fish and take our chances. It was at this very moment we discovered we had fallen into the net (ha, fish humor, get it?) of The Fish Nazi – for before my son could even consider my proposal, the Fish Nazi interrupted with…

“OH NO, NO FISH FOR YOU!”

“But…”

“NO, NO FISH FOR YOU!”

And that was that. We were loaded up with all the necessary items needed to acquire fish in some distant future and hustled out the door with an unceremonious don’t let the door hit you in the butt.

However, two days later, we dared show our faces again in the Pet Store Fish Republic.  But this time, we were prepared.  When we arrived, The Fish Nazi was busy terrorizing another customer so we were offered help from The Fish Nazi’s Assistant.

We were informed by The Fish Nazi’s Assistant,  for the fish tank size, my son could have 3 “beginner” fish and two shrimp cleaners – any more than that and the fish get “stressed” (Oh yeah?  Bring it on Fishies, I’ll show you stress – can you say Christmas shopping in Wal-mart???).  However, with The Fish Nazi within earshot,  we decided to acquiesce quietly.

Once chosen, we left The Fish Nazi’s Assistant on his own to collect our 3 fish & 2 shrimp into a bag – a mistake as it turned out.  For, when we returned for our bag-o-fish & shrimp, The Fish Nazi’s Assistant was having trouble looking us in the eye.

“Ummm, well, you see,  I was just told (duh, by The Fish Nazi!) that you can’t have the shrimp until you have had fish in your tank for a minimum of 2 to 4 weeks.” 

In other words,

NO SHRIMP FOR YOU!

So for now, my son’s tank has 3 fish and no shrimp as we await the day our tank will be worthy.

The fish, however, seem happy and completely without stress (boy that Valium works wonders).

I, on the other hand… well let’s just say I fear the fish tank experience may also end up under the heading – Sounded Like a Good Idea at the Time.

Aaaand….

That is where my story was supposed to end.  But, before I could stop being a slacker and finish it, I found myself a few days later back in the Pet Store returning items (a little over zealous on the tank décor).

I couldn’t help it.  I had to take a chance.  I stealthily crept through the aisles and peeked around the corner at the wall of fish tanks. There, happily scooping up fish for any and all, was your average (but knowledgeable) Pet Store employee without The Fish Nazi or The Fish Nazi’s Assistant anywhere in sight.

So, I explained to the average (but knowledgeable) employee, I wanted for my son’s new  5.5 gallon tank, a cleaner fish or shrimp.  She unceremoniously offered me the very fish my son had previously been denied – something about it being an “intermediate” fish and he  but a lowly “beginner”.  She, however, did not seem concerned.

“I’ll take it”, I said as I quickly looked around for any blindsided sneak attack. (i.e The Fish Nazi jumping out from behind the fish food). Home I went, cleaner fish happily in hand (or, well you know, in the bag).

And with this heavy blow to the  reign of The Fish Nazi and let’s just face it, to all Fish Tyranny in general,

My fish story is finally all told out.

Resolutions for 2013 – Sweet Spot Style

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Yes, it is that time again – Resolution time.  Truthfully, I hold with the Non-Resolution style of ringing in the New Year.  That being said, there is always something of value to be learned from history – ones own adventures and, well, misadventures.

Thus this year, I decided to scour the Sweet Spot Archives of 2012 in search of some well earned Resolutions for 2013.
I think I found some pretty powerful nuggets of advice for the New Year…

1.  I will be sure to check my pants zipper (Life, the Ego-Sucking Siege) before entering any and all public establishments.

2. I will struggle on in my war against electronics (I Am Woman – Ode to Chris the Caveman) in the never ending battle for influence over my kids’ brain.

3.  I will try to have a kindler, gentler approach to my vacuum (The Day I Killed the Vacuum) and well, for that matter all machines in general (Woman vs. Machine).

4.  I will try to take Teens advice to drink water and recycle – preferably at the same time – (Teen Talk: Episode #3) and, of course, Pre-Teens advice to Never Sit on a Couch at a Nudest Colony.

5.  I swear never to utter the chant “Party at home plate” at my kids’ baseball games (Take Us To Warp Speed, Scotty), or do any of those other things that would qualify me for “bulldog” status as a  Sports Mom (Bulldogs Don’t Wear Lipstick).

6.  I promise, for Teen and Pre-Teen’s sake, to work in the words “Balls”  (Word-Up: We’ve Got Big Balls) and “Weenus” (Word-Up: Show Me Your Weenus) into every conversation where possible but not necessarily appropriate.

7.  In true Mid-West fashion, I promise to generously give the “no problem” wave, the “thanks for not honking at me even though I deserve it” wave, and possibly throw in the “I’m cool” head wave.  (You Deserve the Wave Today).

8.  I will seek out adventure every chance I get (Sweet Spot Travels), even the scary kind (Today’s Best Moment Thursday April 5.)

9.  I will try to make someones day as often as possible  simply by donning a pen and piece of rainbow stationary. (Go Ahead, Make My Day).

10.  I will be sure to have plenty of stockings/pantyhose and pet hair removal devices on hand for whatever occasion may arise. (Bag Lady Goes a Job Hunting).

11.  I will try to never, ever forget how good it feels to laugh (Destroy This Note After Reading).

And lastly, two lessons –  clearly resolution worthy – from some recent experiences:

I will try to not take as a personal commentary the worker-monogrammed cups received at Starbucks:

Starbucks cup

And, I will remember to pee prior to attending a D-Box movie.

Happy New Year from Looking for the Sweet Spot.

Go get ’em!

Merry Christmas 2012

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Merry Christmas from Sweet Spot

May your holiday be filled with Santa Claus (preferably sober)…

Santacon 2012 - New York City

Santacon 2012 – New York City

Big Balls…(not necessarily together)

Rockefeller Center 2012 - New York City

Rockefeller Center 2012 – New York City

Mysterious gifts…

Chicken leg???

I’m thinking, chicken leg??

and a really big Christmas tree…

The tree at Rockefeller Center - New York City 2012

The tree at Rockefeller Center – New York City 2012

Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight.

For more Sweet Spot Travels: Go Here!

Just ‘Cause it’s Friday

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Cata LisaCata – Lisa

Painted by a local popular artist in Venice, Italy.  What’s that rumbling?  Oh, yeah – that is Leonardo Da Vinci rolling over in his grave.  I hear he does a lot of that these days.  Still, it is kind of irresistible – or at least my son thought so!

Happy Friday!

For more Sweet Spot Travels: Go Here!

Bag Lady Gets a Job

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BagLadyB

I got a job.  Surprising, I know, what with the catastrophe that was my first interview  (Bag Lady Goes a Job Hunting).

Nevertheless, I started a new job this week.  My new position has a  wide variety of duties and responsibilities.

Well, just take today, for example.

Today I was required to…

…get my hair done with a fork.

…submit to arrest by a policeman and a king for spilling glitter.

…assist in the construction of a school for baby animals made entirely out of magnets (which was ultimately shunned by the moody giraffe baby).

…go to the doctor to find out I had two broken legs (both curable) and needed numerous shots (some painful) and a band aide.

…dress in zebra print and blue satin in preparation to get married.

…laugh hysterically at lunch with my friends at the clearly undeniably funny phrase “peanut butter and jelly.”

…have my nails done with plastic fruit.

I am thinking droopy stockings and a little bit (or say, maybe a lot) of cat hair stuck to my clothes will go virtually unnoticed in my current work situation.

Because, yeah, my job is just cool like that.

Pay Attention in School, You May Win the Lottery Someday

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Powerball-mania!!  Do you or your kids have it?  Well then, I suggest you share with your kids a cautionary tale I wrote about on ParentSociety!

Do your kids complain about school? At times, do they just not want to go, do the work, be bothered with it, get out of bed in the morning, pay attention, apply, learn, concentrate, etc.? I mean, what kid doesn’t have those days (or weeks, months, or even years)?

But, every once in a while, a real life story comes along that plays right into the little parental hands. I love these moments. And even though my kids probably secretly hate them, this particular cautionary tale about why they should always pay attention and stay in school was pretty hard to deny!

OK, so here is the  story…

What?  You didn’t think I would put it here.  No, you will have to go to ParentSociety.com to get the whole story.  It is a good one, I promise!

Go here

A Tricky Way to Get Your Kids to Pay Attention in School.

A Boy’s-Eye View of Italy

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Italy is awesome!  Or so, my boys have proclaimed.  Seriously, what is not to appreciate about a country that has so much to offer a boy’s sensibility – especially from a Teen/Pre-teen boy perspective.  Please, allow me to explain:

1.  You get to learn about crazy people.

The Pieta (The Pity) Statue by Michelangelo, Vatican City.  Yeah, yeah, this statue is beautiful, impressive, stunning, etc.  But, did you know it is encased in a plastic protector because in the 1970s, a “mad geologist attacked the statue with a hammer.”? (say what??) Right, well, apparently, any way you slice it this story was clearly cool enough to spawn a steady laughter invoking exchange for the remainder of our trip such as the following:

“Hey Mom”

“Yeah?”

“I am a geologist and I am really MAD…GET ME A HAMMER!!!!

ok, it still makes me laugh…

2.  You get to throw stuff

Trevi Fountain, Rome.  Let’s face it – any opportunity to throw stuff…legally… is well worth a long plane ride. But take note – don’t even waste coin after coin after coin trying to nail the Trevi seagulls, they are way, way too saavy to be caught by such an assault (and I suspect, have had to learn the hard way!).

3.  You get a drink, for free, anytime you want.

Random fountain in Rome.  Just pray, the water isn’t as ancient as the fountain…

fountain rome

4.  You get to play in the dirt

The Colosseum , Rome.  Sure, the whole Colosseum thing is crazily impressive and all,

But even better is collecting some ancient Colosseum dirt to bring home.  Just be warned – apparently a bag of dirt in ones backpack is cause for suspicion and, if you hazard the attempt to bring home said souvenir, you will be detained at every single security checkpoint along the way.

colosseum

5.  You get randomly photo bombed.

Navona Piazza Street Performer, Rome. Anytime, anyplace, anywhere – you never know exactly when it is happening.  It won’t be until viewing pictures at some later date you will realize you were, yet again, photo-bombed by a statue’s bare butt (or other random, bare body parts) making for endless amounts of humor opportunities.  Ah well, you know, when in Rome…

navona square

6.  You get to spit on stuff.

Venice, Italy.  What better attribute does a hotel have to offer than the ability of customers to be able stick their head out of their very own hotel window and spit right into a not so clean canal of water that can’t be hurt  by a few dribbles of spit, anyway.  Pure genius, I say.

venicevenice

7.  You get to handle wild animals.

Venice, Italy – some piazza somewhere.  From a boys perspective, never underestimate the entertainment value of handling a rodent with wings (i.e. pigeons).

8.  You get to eat good food.

Venice, Italy. Pizza for breakfast, Pizza for lunch, Pizza for dinner, Pizza with french fries…need I say more?

9. And some things, are just plain cool – graffiti and all!

The Rialto Bridge, Venice, Italy.

Rialto BridgeFor more Sweet Spot Travels: Go Here!

Saying No Sucks!

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We all know there are aspects of parenting that really stink, don’t even try to deny it!  Today, on ParentSociety.com I reflect on  complain about one of my least favorite responsibilities of parenting.

Go here to find out what I am whining about!

Saying No Sucks!

A Life Lesson, The Easy Way

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tom sawyer

We have a huge pecan tree in our yard.  And when I say huge, I really mean it — as in if it fell, our house would be reduced to rubble.  Every 2 to 3 years, the pecan tree decides to drop thousands of pecans all over the yard.  The squirrels, in these years, do a little happy dance knowing their future is secure.  But for me, I feel compelled to do something about some of those nuts littering my yard.

All I wanted was the pecans in my yard picked up – or rather, to find a way to get my kids to pick up the pecans in my yard.  I didn’t expect to get a life lesson out of it, too!

Check out my latest article on ParentSociety.com

Teaching Kids About Money:  A Life Lesson, The Easy Way.

Bag Lady Goes a Job Hunting

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I have been job hunting. And when I say “job hunting”, I mean random-resume-submissions-online-from-which-no-result-occurs.  However, finally, I received a phone call requesting my presence at an interview…with, like, people and stuff.

The fact that I had not been on an actual job interview in a ‘coons age (Country-slang for a long, long, loooong time) should have paralyzed me with fear, but I confess it did not.

On the day of the interview, I selected my clothing carefully – dress, nylons, heels, the whole works – and packed them into my car to be changed into after I ran to the hair salon to have my emerging grey hairs vanquished.  Possibly, this detour was the beginning of my folly. But, I tend to think it was my venue of choice for changing into my interview attire – Home Depot.

Yep, you read that right.  Apparently, a stop at Home Depot for husband was unavoidable.  But, hey, the Women’s bathroom at Home Depot is big and virtually unused. However, the moment I left the bathroom in full interview attire, my trouble began.  You see, as soon as I started tromping through the Home Depot aisles towards the exit in my high heels, I began to feel a slippage.

Ok, hold on, allow me to explain.  I hate panty hose as in; I detest the feel of the ‘panty part’ under clothes.  Therefore, I have long opted for the stocking scenario – the kind that has an elastic/rubbery band to hold them in place on your thigh.  However, not having occasion to wear stockings much, it had been a while since the last wearing of this pair.

So again, there I was marching confidently to the front of the store heading to my interview when I began to feel slippage of one of the stockings.  Quickly, I ducked behind a display of sockets to inspect the problem.  When I looked down, I found to my dismay the band of the offending stocking was bouncing, exposed around my knee!  I quickly pulled it back up and in my haste ripped a run down the entire length.

My first thought was, surely I had but failed to pull the one stocking up enough the first time. So, I can just hide the run in the back and take care to never turn around in the interviewer’s presence – it won’t look that weird when I back out of the door to leave, right?

But, I did not even it make to my car in the parking lot before the stocking band was slipping down again, now making it to my ankle.  And although the guy who tried to solicit “gas money” from me in the parking lot did not seem at all alarmed by my wardrobe malfunction, I was completely horrified.

I jumped into my car and started driving to my interview.  I began to worry.  What if the stocking starts slipping while I am trying to think of answers to the interviewer’s questions?

“What is your strategy for handling a problem?” (You mean, like, your stockings falling down in Home Depot?).

“What do you consider your strong points?”(Um, surviving this interview with droopy stockings?).

“Where do you see yourself in the future?” (Well, in the next 5 minutes, I see myself walking out of here looking like a Bag Lady with stockings puddling around my ankles).

And that was it, full-on panic took hold.

My mind began to race.  If only I would pass a drugstore on my way to the interview.  I could have just enough time to run in, grab a pair of dreaded pantyhose (not a stocking type place), change in the car and make my interview on time.  If only…

And then, like chocolate from heaven – there it was!!  A Walgreens Drugstore right off the highway – a bit of a back track from my exit, but still possible in my time frame!  I was saved!  I sped to the Walgreens, whipped into the parking lot, searched for the entrance.  It was only then I discovered it was a Walgreens Infusion and Respiratory Center.  Yeah, I have no idea what the heck that is – all I know is, they do NOT sell pantyhose…I checked.

At this point, I knew I was sunk. Going “nylon commando” was not an option as I had neglected shaving … and tanning. So, I reluctantly drove on with the top band of my stocking now getting stuck on the gas pedal when suddenly, within a block of my interview, where no self-respecting store should be, stood- like my very own “beacon of hope” – a Dollar Store.  You know, where they have dollar knick knacks, dollar pet toys, dollar toothpaste and apparently, dollar pantyhose…two pair in a pack.

A speedy superhero-like change in my car, an unavoidable flash to a guy walking by my car window (you’re welcome) and I was on my way again.

And thus, I made it to my interview on time, answered questions brilliantly, with pantyhose securely in place, completely professional and positively no Bag Lady overtones whatsoever.

Or so I thought.

For, it wasn’t until after the interview, driving home in my car, I noticed the white cat fur confidently clinging to various parts my dark colored, interview appropriate dress.

Next time, perhaps I will get dressed at home.

Or, just bring a shopping cart to the interview.

For an update go here – Bag Lady Gets a Job

Destroy This Note After Reading

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I try to be home when my kids get home from school.  It is a time I enjoy, hearing about their day, getting the skinny on happenings at school and any drama ensuing.  But, on this particular occasion last week, I knew I would not be home until a few hours past when they had arrived home.  Therefore, being the responsible, sweet and awesome Mom I am (hey, somebody has to say it), I left them a few instructions for when they arrived home and a special after school snack.

Apparently, my husband felt my note needed a few additions.  He is just lucky I love a good laugh!

Cat Meets Fish

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My son recently got a fish for a pet – three guppy fish to be exact.  We decided it was no use actually naming them until we saw how our cat, Lulubelle, was going to embrace their existence and residence in our her house. Thus, a formal introduction was arranged.

Lulubelle paced around and around the bowl.

Sniffed the contents.

Looked wide eyed at the moving objects inside.

Batted at the glass.

Tested the water with a paw.

It was touch and go there for a while.

Would the poor defenseless fish actually survive our heartless, survival-of-the fittest cat?

And then it happened.

Lulubelle stuck her head into the bowl and…

… drank the water.

cat meets fish

I am thinking, in the end, she decided it was too much work for such a small prize.

Oh and probably, she was thirsty.

Besides, Take Out Delivery is just so much more convenient.

Word-Up: We’ve Got Big Balls

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As a Mom I am ready to embrace the teen years, more to the point, the boy-teen years.  Heck, I was born ready.  Well, not really.  Actually I was born pink & squishy…and bald.  Be that as it may,  growing up with three teenage brothers must have had some lasting effect – or damage.

So, here is what I have discovered recently.  Apparently, part of being baptized into male teen-dom involves the embracing and appreciation for all humor involving anatomical innuendo (honestly, for me this is not such a hardship).  At the current stage of development, we are heavily into Balls – sport balls, that is, and all implied.  Recently, I was schooled in the infinite innuendo possibilities for the word Balls.

I believe the introductory lesson went something like this:

Mom, you know, the word ball can be pretty funny.

Oh, really, how so?

Well, at baseball practice, say we are going out to warm up and one of the guys asks me “Do you have a ball?” and I will answer, “Yeah, I have two.”

And because the mind is a terrible thing to waste – well that and never being one to leave a good innuendo well enough alone -we brainstormed some more.

Try these on for size, no pun intended (ah, what the heck),  pun intended!.

Does anyone have a ballYeah, big ones

Does anyone have a ballWhat? You don’t?

Hey, grab a ball while you are over there. You’re sick!

Always keep your eye on the ball. aaawkwaaaabrd

Basketball players have big, orange balls.

Soccer players like to kick balls.

Football players have oddly shaped balls.

Baseball players have a lot of balls.

Golfers have little tiny balls.  (sorry golfers,  just  could not resist that one).

It is not a sport without any balls.

Can someone get me some balls, I don’t have any.

And lastly,

In sports, you have to get the balls a little sweaty.

Here I thought Poop would always be the funniest word in the English Language.  I guess I should have known the shift was coming, what with the whole Weenus debacle and all.

And, don’t even get us started on the word,  Nuts.

For more word abuse, check out these earlier posts!

Word-Up: Show Me Your Weenus

Word-Up:  Poop

Word-Up: Opus Anyone?

Word-Up: Get a Yob!

Nightmare on Doddridge Street

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Ok, I confess, this is a post I wrote for Halloween last year during the first month of my SweetSpot days.  But I am thinking all ten of the followers I had at the time won’t mind the re-blog…hopefully!

Happy Halloween

Monday seemed like a normal day. Little did I know something was lurking, lying in wait for me. It started out like any other day; kids off to school, coffee hot, dog fed (thus, her own personal nightmare assuaged).  I turned on my computer, ready to work, blog, socialize, check Facebook.  And that is when the horror began as I was greeted by the words – NO INTERNET ACCESS. I took a deep breath, no need to panic, it’s probably nothing, I thought.  After all, my dog appeared unconcerned and you know how animals can “sense” things.

Very calmly, I began to work my magic…or rather, I began to work tech-guy-on-speed-dial’s magic.  But still, ACCESS DENIED.  Then tech-guy-on-speed-dial offhandedly suggested, “what about your home phone line?” (You see, us here folks out on Doddridge, a.k.a. the boonies, rely on phone lines for our DSL mojo).  I ran for my cordless phone like a chick trying to outrun a chainsaw and as in any good bad horror flick, the line was dead.

However, unlike next-to-die-screaming-teen, I still had cell phone service.

So, to the phone company I went for rescue. Harassed-phone-company-lady informed me that “they” (guys-with-huge-hacking-scissors?) had cut the lines and “no”, the DSL line would not be reconnected anytime soon because first the phone line must be repaired in order to restore 911.  But I stammered that this was a 911 – No internet, no access to the World Wide Web, NO FACEBOOK!!

Harassed-phone-company-lady, unmoved by my hysteria, hung up, leaving me once again to face the horror alone. So there I was, waiting, staring, pacing, looking out for strange-guy-in-hockey-mask; when suddenly, out of nowhere, a thought struck me.  Something my Dad used to always tell me;

“Don’t forget to stop and smell the flowers.”

I grabbed my car keys, I grabbed my dog, (because clearly, judging by her worried look, the canine sixth sense had kicked in), and we started driving – away from the dreadfulness and in search of flowers.

We didn’t find any flowers, because, well, it’s October, but we did find a pretty spectacular fall tree to hang out under.

We didn’t worry about work, we didn’t long to socialize, we didn’t angst over missed Facebook posts,

And nobody denied us access.

Boys Will Be Boys

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Boys will be boys, but how do we turn them into men?  This is a question that has been on my mind a lot lately because…

This year, for the first time, I have two boys attending Middle School. Let us just say that the start to our year has been a bit of a rocky road — like the kind you need a four wheeler for … or a tank. Don’t get me wrong, their grades are fine; good, even. They get their work done and they make an effort. The problem is they are on a quest to fulfill the saying “boys will be boys.”

That’s it.  That is all you get.  You will have to GO HERE to read the rest of the article The Secret to Raising Good Kids?  Teaching Respect  on ParentSociety.com. It will be worth it, I promise – you will laugh a little and maybe even cry a little (at my bad jokes, that is).

The Secret to Raising Good Kids?  Teaching Respect.

Are You Mom or Housekeeper?

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If you are not immediately sure of the answer to the question “Are you the Mom or the Housekeeper?” then you are in desperate need of  a personal day and my most recent article on ParentSociety.com may be just the thing: 6 Ways to Pamper Yourself During Mommy Time.

You know the moment when you are knee-deep in laundry and it occurs to you that the job of mom (or in some cases, dad) is more like the job of live-in housekeeper?

I don’t know about you, but before I became a mom, my visions of motherhood went more like little children tripping along behind me, through the grassy meadow, singing in perfect harmony. OK, that might have been “Sound of Music,” but you get my drift.

Well, whenever I begin to overly obsess on the housekeeper aspects of being a mom, which usually comes in the midst of some particularly gross job like scrubbing toothpaste globs out of the carpet, I know it is time for a personal day…

We all need some personal time every now and then. Go Here to get 6 suggestions on how you might spend it.

Go now…what are you waiting for?…the laundry will wait…I promise!

6 Ways to Pamper Yourself During Mommy Time.