Aye Dios Mios Madresita!

I adore my mother....I mean hey, I got my funny from her....(those of you wondering what funny I am talking about can just shut up now!)...I also got my premature gray hair....but I love her anyway!

The thing about my mom is that usually we have to explain to her what is so funny. One prime example is the day that she came home MAD because all her students would laugh when she told them that she had bought some new thongs the weekend before. We had to explain that while they might have been called thongs in the seventies, now we call them flip flops. Thongs are what she calls G-strings. She of course turns ten shades and just leaves the room followed by our laughter.

My favorite mom-ism however is probably her simplest funny. While sitting on the hearth in our living room with a fire roaring behind her, she stops mid-sentence to ask "Is something burning?"

Don't get me wrong, my mom is not stupid....quite the opposite actually, but you know how intelligent people sometimes miss the forest for the trees? Well, let just say my mother is oblivious of MOST forests.

This past weekend, she was in Austin visiting. We were sitting at a stop light at William Cannon and 35 when a homeless man walks in front of the car to cross the street. My mother leaned forward to get a better look at him and said, "I think I used to date him."

"Wait, what?"

"Ok well maybe not him exactly, but he looks just like him."

Seriously people, what the hell am I supposed to do with that? My mother used to date a guy that evidently looks exactly like the emaciated homeless man that I give a granola bar to every morning. And, she is oblivious to the fact that this causes me a moments pause!

All I can say is....trees...no forest.

Toe Pick!

Grace is NOT my middle name....

Today I weed whacked my finger....I don't know how....Ok...I do know how...but it's too embarrassing to rehash...I will just say this...If you think the string has broken off the weed whacker, let it completely stop spinning before you reach down there to check. It IS possible that there is still a small piece on there that is not long enough to actually whack weeds, but is the perfect size to take dang near all the skin off your knuckle....just maybe.

Those of you that know me well, know that this is VERY normal for me. I am probably the only person you know that has sprained both ankles on separate occasions, but in the same night. (I also broke a nose that night...not mine...and it wasn't an accident....but still!) Or who has not only slammed their own fingers in a door, but two other people's as well.

My first real job in high school was a summer job at a nursing home (oh the stories I have from that summer). I hadn't even been there a week before I was nicknamed "Lurch" (you know....like from the Addams Family...You Rang!). I didn't get this name from dropping trays, tripping, or any other normal klutzy stuff...I mean I DID do all that, that's just not how I got the name. Oh no....I am a gold medal winning klutz....

I ALMOST KILLED A LADY! No, I am not exaggerating. The depths of my klutziness knows no bounds...I guess I should preface this by telling you what my duties were. I was an environmental aide. Basically this means I changed the "soiled" linens. (P.S. Soiled means pooped or peed on...usually both.) I did get to call bingo and stuff from time to time, but pretty much, I changed beds.

Anyway, one day I was in this lady's room changing her bed. She was sitting in her recliner while I was doing my stuff. She was a really nice lady and we would talk while I worked. She was also hooked up to an oxygen machine. She could not be without it. So that day, we were talking and I had crawled under the bed because the bed pad had not caught all of the....well....soil. I finished cleaning up, crawled back out and continued on with whatever story I was telling her at the time. On my way back out from under the bed, I snagged my foot, but one good yank took care of it.

"Anyway Mrs. Stewart, so I told her that she was crazy and there was no reason to be that dramatic about something so trivial."

Weird sucking noise coming from behind me.

"Wow Mrs. Stewart, you sound like you need another steroid treatment. That is sounding bad. But anyways, she of course got MAD and told me to mind my own business. But, well I can't do that."

More frequent weird sucking noises.

At this point I decided to stop talking for a minute (rare enough in and of itself) and turn around.

The poor woman was turning BLUE.

HOLY CRAP....my shoe! I had unplugged her machine with my shoe! By the time my clumsy ass found the cord and got her plugged back in, she was in bad shape. It took her a while to be able to talk, and of course the whole time I sound like a broken record.

"Oh my gosh...I'm so sorry! Oh wow, I am SO sorry! Are you ok? I am so sorry!"

When she is finally able to talk, all that saint of a woman says, "It's ok honey, it happens all the time."

Bless her little heart! Sweet thing just lied through her false teeth.

The next day I was Lurch and really, I still haven't lost the nick name....

Kids Say the Darndest Things

I babysit one family here in Austin quite regularly. (Tomorrow we're going swimming....I don't know who is more excited, them or me!)

Last night it was their parent's date night so I was there to watch the kids. Kelsy is eight. Tyler just turned 7 last week, and Katherine is two. They are the most well behaved kids I have ever kept. Don't get me wrong, they are still kids, so we are acquainted with the time-out corner, but they are REALLY great kids.

Last night Katherine decided to bite Kelsy (this is a new thing...I have no idea where it came from), so I sent her to time-out. She walked over and sat down and immediately asked if she was done.

"No, ma'am. You bit your sister. You are going to stay there for two minutes (one minute for however old the kid is)."

"But, I sowwy NOW."

"I know you are, and when we are done here, you are going to go tell Kelsy that, but right now you are going to sit here and think about why you shouldn't bite your sister."

"Cuz when I bite, I gotta go time-out!"

How do you argue with that logic? Katherine constantly cracks me up and it is hard not to laugh at times like that, but last night it was Kelsy that really got to me.

Kelsy is an awesome big sister. She and Tyler butt heads some, but she is amazing with Katherine. She can be very grown up for her age sometimes. She is always asking me about college and why I want to be a doctor and stuff like that.

Last night while they were getting ready for bed, the questions started up again.

"Amy, why aren't you married?"

Well crap! "Because I am still in school and I am not ready to married right now."

"When do you want to be married?"

"I don't know Kels, maybe in a few years. But I haven't met anyone I want to marry. I have meet them and date them for a while first."

"Are you going to be a doctor or get married first?"

"I don't know...probably be a doctor."

"When you are a doctor and married, will you still babysit us?"

"Kels, by the time I am a doctor and married you won't need a babysitter anymore."

"Yes we will....we will if it's you."

Ok crying time now!

"Thanks Kelsy, that's sweet!"

"Amy, are you going to be a kid's doctor?"

"I don't know, we'll see."

"You should. You're really good with kids."

Can you see why I ADORE these kids? "Thanks sweetie. It's bed time now."

"I know. Goodnight Amy."

"Goodnight beautiful. Sweet dreams!"

I should really take her everywhere with me! She is such an ego boost! I only hope I have kids have that awesome one day!

You may call me My Pearl on Sundays and Goddess Divine on special occasions.

I adore anything Jane Austen as I have said many, many times....(ok, except Mansfield Park....but I still like it!)....I just finished reading Pride and Prejudice for the umpteenth gazillionth time....

Every time I read any of Austen's books I find something hilariously ironic that I missed the first time. Those are the best types of books....the ones that are refreshingly different, but yet comfortingly the same every time you read them.

This time I was reminded of a conversation I had with a very good friend of mine about what she wanted in a man....she had an insanely long list! I am talking LONG.....

At the time I told her that all I wanted was NOT the man on the white horse coming to my rescue. How dull would that be? Plus I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself! (Most of the time :)) I wanted the man on the black horse that had started all the trouble in the first place! But besides that I had no specifics...I wanted to leave more to providence than that....ok...I know...sounds good in theory right, but not realistic.

Of course I have an image in my head (but he's usually naked, so we don't talk much...kidding...kidding....kinda) but I really DON'T want to get all that specific.

Anyway, back to Austen. The wise teacher that she is, has taught me another valuable lesson....and that is....

Well, you will have to read it and figure it out yourself....

What?

Ok, Ok, Geez, I have to do everything around here!

I learned that I don't need to know what qualities I want in a man....I just need to be able to recognize them when seen packaged together in THE man.

Plus, lets face it girls, on the eve of Father's Day, this is probably true for you too, so I'll just be honest....no matter how hard I try to avoid it, I am daily growing to be more and more like my mother, and the man I see in my future has qualities more and more like my dad...

I should be so lucky! Happy Father's Day Daddy! I love you!

P.S. Dad: Insanely loud whistle

Amy: Hyah!

Everybody has words that are a staple to their everyday vocabulary.

Mine are "oops" and "seriously" (ok, and "like", but I am like totally trying stop that one...seriously!".

I think my dad repeats the Serenity Prayer when he is dealing with me.....

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change;

Yesterday:

"Ok, Dad, I got the a/c checked on my car...the guy said he doesn't know what's wrong with it! He said they added more freon and vacuumed out the system, but it's still not working. The compressor is cycling but no cold air!"

"What guy Amy?"

"The Jiffy Lube guy. He said for me to check the spark plugs, cuz that's all he can think of."

"The what?!?"

"The spark plugs."

"Amy....(he always says my name and then follows with a long pause when he is frustrated with me)....are you SURE he said spark plugs?"

"Yeah, and I checked the spark plug for the a/c but it is fine. I told him that didn't make sense because the compressor wouldn't start at all if it was the spark plug."

"Wait you checked the spark plug?"

"Yeah, Dad, what's wrong?"

"Amy.....(another long pause)....where were the spark plugs you checked?"

"Well, there are some in the car and some in the engine, in the box thingy...you know they are all different colors and say either 10, 20 or 40."

courage to change the things I can;

"Oh sweet *&##%#% (I'll let you fill in the blank here.), Amy, those are fuses, not spark plugs....whatever you do, don't go in the A/C place and tell them you checked the spark plugs. They will take you for everything you've got!"

"Oh, well, geez dad, you know what I meant!"

and the wisdom to know the difference.

Today:

"Dad, the A/C guy says I need a whole new compressor and kind of valve thingy."

"Amy, are you still at the repair shop?"

"Yes sir."

"Then just hand the nice man your phone honey."

10 minutes later the guy hands me back my phone:

"Ok, Amy they are going to take you home now and your car will be ready tomorrow. Can you find a ride to work in the morning?"

"Yes sir, what is wrong with my a/c."

....

"Dad?"

"It's the spark plugs."

"You are not funny!"

Chuckles come over the line.

Amen.

You're Killin' Me Smalls!

Ok...today was my REAL first day of classes....long story....don't ask.....

Last semester I had a professor for calculus that I really didn't get. I mean every word out of his mouth was Greek to me. He loved to pontificate on the mundane history behind every definition. However, we never actually learned how to USE them.

Ok, I am well aware that the break down in communication was probably my fault, but hey, I am giving myself the benefit of the doubt here!

Anyway, I found out that he wasn't teaching classes this summer, so what did I do, I signed up for calculus (I need three semesters of it for my degree).

Today I showed up to class a few minutes late (I know, I know, but hey, my friends were floating the freaking river, so at least I went to class). I found my room and reached out to grab the door knob....and froze.

NOOOO! It can't be him! The voice coming to me from the other side of the door was the same one that had taught me the history behind the fundamental theorem of calculus last semester! What is the Fundamental Theorem of Calculus you ask? Heck if I know, but I do know that you can thank the Scottish mathematician James Gregory for it!

Anyway, (well, first I double checked the door number just in case, but then...) I turned the knob and walked into the room.

He looked as shocked as I was! Stopping mid-sentence...."Hello Ms. Carter".

Summoning all of my inner Seinfeld, I replied....

"Hello Newman."

for-e-ver. for-e-ver. for-e-ver.

Some of my favorite memories of me and my dad are the days he would check me out of school early for us to drive to Houston to see a double header in the dome!

I loved those times! For my dad and I baseball has always been a bonding tool! He would buy me a program that had the game sheet in the back so I could "keep the book" for the game.

After the game he would check my work and we would laugh over the mistakes. I was probably the only eight year old girl that could tell you what E-3 meant (error on the first baseman) or the ERA of any pitcher on the Astros team at any given time.

As I got older and started playing ball myself, instead of sitting with my dad in the stands and enjoying the game at a "safe" distance, I met him on the field. The most frustrating times were when he was calling behind the plate and I was on the mound. I STILL maintain that the man has a strike zone the size of a Ritz cracker (you know the bite size ones), unless I am in the box and then the zone stretches from knees to shoulders.

Either way, my dad and I LOVE baseball and I can not think of a better time than spending the day on a diamond with my dad. Tomorrow I am meeting my dad to celebrate Father's Day and his birthday that is later this month. I am meeting him to watch the State Baseball Finals.

I can't sleep! I'm too excited!

Love you Dad! (and that was sooooo a strike!)

Lolita the Bunny

I work at a Law Firm doing odd jobs a few days a week. One of those jobs is to answer the phones.

Today, we got a call from one of the retired name partners. He is the cutest little old man. He is still in here a lot chatting with the attorneys and he is just a character.

When he called today, instead of asking for one of the partners, he asked me if I spoke spanish.

"Well, a little bit sir, why?"

"Well young lady, we have rabbits."

Ummmm...was that the answer? "Ok?"

"And all of our rabbits have spanish names."

Again, what does this have to do with me speaking spanish, did he need me translate for one of the rabbits?

"Ok sir, is there a problem with the rabbits?"

"Well, sugar (only a southern gentleman can get away with calling me sugar), we got a new female rabbit today and I wanted to name her Lolita."

Hiding my chuckle, "Ok sir, that sounds like a good name."

"But sweetie, I was wonderin', is that spanish?"

Well crap! I don't know....I know when you add "ita" to something in spanish it means little or it is a term of endearment...but is Lolita spanish?

"Well, sir, I'm not sure but it sure sounds like it doesn't it?"

"Yeah, that's what I thought honey. Do you think that is a good name for a rabbit?"

At this point, normally I would have just laughed in someone's face, but he sounded so serious and it was so cute!

"Sir, in my opinion, Lolita sounds a little like a lady of the evening if you catch my meaning, and since she is rabbit and they say "breed like rabbits" for a reason, I can't think of a better name for a rabbit."

Silence. Oh shit! I went too far!

Chuckle.Chuckle. "Well honey, I think that is damn near the best reason for naming a rabbit Lolita I have ever heard! Thanks!"

Oh thank GOD!!!! I thought my mouth had gotten me in trouble AGAIN!

"No problem sir, who did you need to talk to?"

"Nobody sweetie, that is what I called for. Thanks again!"

"Anytime sir, anytime!"

And THAT is how Lolita the bunny got her name!

How dare you call me carrots?

Chloe is my yellow lab...

SHE IS AWESOME!!!!!!

She pretty much has the coolest personality of any person (much less dog) ever....

Unfortunately, she does take after her mom in one way.....she talks....a lot....

When I come home every day, she meets me and proceeds to tell me about her day....which I think is adorable, and I highly encourage by saying things like, "Really?" "Uh uh, Chloe. No way that all happened in one day!" and stuff like that. She makes this weird sound that really does sound like she is talking...

This summer we have been spending an insane amount of time at Town Lake walking and running (much more walking than running, but it is a process)...

When we first get there she is extremely excited and she tells me....LOUDLY....unfortunately she is so used to my carrying on that conversation with her.....so, unless I reply, she just gets louder and more insistent until I say something.

So.......we are known at Town Lake as The Weird Girl Who Talks With Her Dog, and Chloe.

It's my Indian name! But hey, normal is boring right?

Right?

Hello?

Mr.Toad

OMG!!! I just had the most girlie moment ever!

I like to think that I don't usually squeal at gross things and I am not scared of or shy away from things that are traditionally squeal-girl-worthy.

Yes mother I know I won't go in the attic, but that is a scary stairs thing not a dark and dank thing....

And yes, Dad, I know I won't go out in the shop by myself at night, but that is not a dark creepy crawly bug thing, that is a....ok that IS a creepy crawly bug thing, but I don't scare away when I can actually see them...it's the fear of the unknown in the dark.....

Anyway, tonight I embarrassed myself....

I went to let the dogs out the sliding glass door to the back yard. It has been raining like mad here for hours and it had slowed to a mere monsoon so I thought I would let the girls out now so they wouldn't get quite as wet.

I opened the door, let them run out to do their business and stood in the doorway to wait like a good dog mommy. That's when it happened...

A BIG ASS TOAD JUMPED IN MY HOUSE AND LANDED A MILLIMETER FROM MY FOOT!!!!!

I SQUEALED!!!! I couldn't help it! Then I screamed for Lindsay (coolest roomie ever) to come help me....

It all happened so fast! I tried to suck the squeal and the words back in, but no such luck. It was already out there....It's official, today I am a five year old girl!

I know you are all trembling with trepidation, but no worries, we used the dog bowls to corral the beast and usher it back outside.

PHHHWEW!!!

Look Guys! Water!!!

My family and I spend as much time as possible on the water! WE LOVE IT!

I got a call from my mom today and we talked about a number of random things (we do this multiple times daily) and she stopped mid-sentence to say "OH! I gotta go. I got a fish!".

And the line went dead. (I didn't even know they were fishing, but it's not that big of a surprise.)

I can pretty much tell you verbatim how the following conversation went on my dad's boat.....

"Randy! Look! I got one! Isn't he big!" Giggle giggle.

"Huge Ginger, absolutely huge. I don't know if it will fit in the boat." This would be said with the most deadpan of voices and facial expressions. I should also point out that my dad has a 24 foot tritoon boat that seats 15 comfortably.

"Well come get it already! It's wiggly." She says while swinging the pole (with the poor fish attached at one end) from one side of the boat to another.

"Keep it still, and I could get it off the line! Jeez woman!"

"Oh! Sorry!" Giggle Giggle.

My dad would reach out at this point grab the fish, take his handy pliers and remove the hook. Depending on the actual size of the fish, he would either throw it back in the lake or toss it at Cadence (my parents freakily human-like black lab).

If the fish went back in the water, he would re-bait my mom's hook, cast for her, slap her on the butt (you should know that that part was incredibly uncomfortable to type), and hand her the pole. (They would do this all over again at least three or four times per fishing trip). If it got tossed at Cadence they would laugh at the annoyed face she made at them for being brought out of whatever dream she was having, and then he would go get this fish, put it the live well before the whole re-baiting ritual.

You should know that fishing only happens between whatever random catastrophe that we run into....today it was my mom "catching" a boat passing them with a family of five. When whatever catastrophe is resolved, it is time for a break, so they will stop for a while, put Cadence's life jacket on her and go swimming! After all of this....it is time to fish!

Catch one for me Mom!

Code Word: Zorro

I miss Mindy!

For those of you that don't know (and I don't know how that would be) Mindy is my best friend and has been since 2nd grade....ok well we did have that one trial time in high school when she sent her Guido after me....

Mindy, I apologize again for the whale comment...Kelli made me do it!

Anyway, Mindy flew away to Africa....she has been there for about an hour now and that makes me sad.

Ok, so yeah she will be back in two weeks, but our new found level of codependency is probably not healthy. (See Mindy I even used psych talk just for you.) So I was reminiscing about her today and realized something. We are weird.

We are not sisters (although our high school Spanish teacher told us we had been in another life) but we talk like sisters. You know how some sextuplets won't talk until they are much older in life because they develop a way of communication between each other that is irrelevant to the outside world?

It's not that she and I don't talk (even though we usually finish each other's sentences or the other one just nods halfway through the sentence an nod that says, "no need to finish, I read you loud clear" and the first one stops mid-sentence....which annoys the hell out of anyone else with us because our conversations are impossible to keep up with. Mind you, we don't do this to keep others out of the conversation, we just talk often enough that this just expedites things!). Mindy and I talk, but we also have codes...

The codes ARE to keep our conversations private....for example....every guy that either of us have had a crush (mild or major) has a two or three letter code...usually this has NOTHING to do with their actual name....

I do not feel at liberty at this time to give you an actual example....cuz what if I needed to use the code later and you guys knew it? Oh the horror!

Anyway, Mindy, I miss you and I love you, and I wanted you to know that LL is still MIA, and I still vote for DD over DJ, but I did have a dream about DPP and Paulo (ok so that one is just another name and not a code...but you get the drift!)....weird huh?

Be safe! Amy Sue