Berry Picking

The boy and I went strawberry eating (I mean, picking) Saturday.

At first he was a little hesitant about eating them from the field... There might be rules.  Or bugs.

After a little encouragement from his criminal mother, he was popping them in.

It was a beautiful day, even though getting up early on a Saturday is not something I enjoy.  I'm glad we did.

Pancakes and Proms

I aged about 10 years over the weekend, and it had nothing to do with my child.  For once.
On Facebook, I was able to see all the Prom pictures my friends were posting.  Prom pictures of THEIR kids. 
Let me say this another way...
People my age have children going to the Prom.
Lord, help me.
And them, too, Lord.

We did "wait" a few years before jumping into parenthood, so I could technically be the mom of a Senior.  Ugh.

The Prom pictures really got me, though.

Maybe it was because I could see in those sweet faces the faces of their moms and dads.... my childhood friends.  It was only yesterday we were all dressed up and headed to our Prom, right?

Maybe it was because here in our house, we just crossed into the Land of Teenagers.  (Sniff.)  I've had a rough time with the boy turning 13. All those pretty pictures were just one more reminder that my time is coming.

Maybe I'm just old and sentimental.

I was curled up on the couch with the boy Saturday night.  We had pancakes for dinner in front of the TV.  We watched our DVR'd episodes of "Swamp People."  I couldn't stop thinking about how few of those kinds of nights I have left before it's my turn to post the Prom pictures.

The pictures, the girls in beautiful dresses, the tuxedos, the flowers, the fancy dinners...

Maybe the boy and all his friends will come back to our house after the Prom. 
Maybe they will stay up and raid the pantry.
Maybe they will crash out on the floor.

One thing is for certain... I will make pancakes for all of them the next morning.

If I Lived Another's Life

Do you ever wonder what other people's lives are like? Not the celebrities or the rich and famous, but the regular folks.
I consider myself a regular folk, and some of the strangest things happen to me.
Some people say I'm just very observant. They say weird stuff happens to everyone else; I just notice it.
I have an eye for weirdness.
These are just some of my latest adventures:

1. I pulled into a parking space the other evening at the boy's karate school. The car beside me had some hair hanging in the backseat. Pieces and sections of hair... clipped to a pants hanger. After some checking around to my sources (my sis-in-law and brother) I was informed that this is how people who wear extensions keep them tidy. Hmmmm.
But why were they hanging in the car? Did the hair need to go for a drive?


2. The boy has a new hobby. He gives our cat piggyback rides. Last week, he came around the corner into the den with our cat on his back. He had her bottom on his shoulders, her back legs hanging around his neck, and he was holding her front paws like hands. I was laughing so hard I couldn't sit up. She was just sitting there... bug-eyed and riding along.
When he told me about how he struggled to get her up there, I laughed even harder.
The next morning, we were getting ready to head out the door, and the cat was meowing and meowing. I said, "What is that cat's problem?!?"
He said (dead serious), "She probably wants another piggyback ride."


3. Snoop Dog was at our Chick Fil-A. We tend to visit Chick Fil-A at least once a week... after soccer practice. The last time we were in there, so was Snoop Dog. Well, I'm sure it wasn't the real Snoop Dog, but it looked just like him. I texted my friend, J, to tell her and this was our text conversation:
J:   Take a picture.
Me:  There is no way I can possibly sneak a photo. He'll see me.
J:  LOL. I am at a Holy Week service.
Me:   Now I feel like a heathen. You are at a Holy Week service, and I am at Chick Fil-A with Snoop Dog.

So then I consulted with my other 2 sources (my sis-in-law and brother) to tell them about Snoop Dog.
Me:   I am at Chick Fil-A with Snoop Dog.
My Brother:   Fo Shizzle?
Me:   Word.

I will work on getting a picture of the piggyback riding cat, and the next time I see Snoop Dog eating at Chick Fil-A, I will ask for his autograph.

My Adorable Juvenile Delinquent... What Would You Do?

A few weeks ago, the boy was "arrested" in the middle of a math test.

There had been some sort of a fight at his school, and one of the culprits "escaped." (The culprit didn't leave school; he just didn't get caught by a teacher.) We will call him Suspect #1.

Suspect #1 was wearing a brown shirt that day... and so was MY son.
See where this story is going?

The School Security Officer (who wears a uniform and carries a gun and a taser) and a teacher who'd seen the fight came looking for Suspect #1.
They came into my son's math class, looked around the room, and pointed at my son. The officer motioned for him to get up and walk over.
The boy (my son), bless his heart, thought the officer was talking to someone else, so he started looking around. That's when the officer mouthed the word, "You," and pointed again.

The boy said when the whole class realized WHO the officer was talking to, there was an audible gasp throughout the room... including his teacher.

You see, the boy NEVER gets in trouble at school. Never. I'm not sharing this to brag on my child... I can do that anytime. I am sharing this to explain why everyone in the room was shocked. The boy is the kind of student that helps teachers, tutors other students, makes the honor role, and gets nominated for citizenship awards. He's NOT the kind of kid who gets into fights in the hallway.

So when the officer and the other teacher led him out into the hallway, he was totally confused. The officer asked,
"Were you involved in an altercation after 2nd Period?"

"No," said the boy.

The other teacher said, "That's him! That's him! He had on a brown shirt and he took off running!"

Again the officer asked, "Was it you that got into a fight and then ran?"

Again the boy said, "No. It wasn't me."

Once again, the other teacher said she was certain it was him.
After a few minutes of talking, the officer told the accusing teacher he believed my child. The officer realized they had the wrong kid.
They let him go back to class, and they continued their search for brown shirt Suspect #1.

The boy said when he got back into class, the room erupted with questions and noise... including the teacher. No one could believe what had happened, and they were amazed the boy was even considered a suspect. They all got a big laugh, and they finished their test.

When he got in the car that afternoon, the boy told me all about it. He was still amused, and he really didn't seem bothered by it at all.
I asked him if either the officer or the accusing teacher came back to apologize to him.
"No. They didn't," he told me.

Now here is my dilemma.
I would have appreciated an apology to my child for the case of mistaken identity.
Is that too much to ask?
Am I being unreasonable?

Part of me wanted to march into the school and demand an apology. (I know some of you would have fired the principal by now. Or egged the officer's car.)
I definitely do not want to embarrass my son. I also know how teachers feel about parents who "fight their kid's battles for them."
Actually, I know how I feel about people fighting their kid's battles for them.

I want the boy to know that sometimes in life, people make mistakes. They may even accuse you of something you didn't do.
I want him to know that people often don't apologize... even grown-ups. Even if they should.
I want him to be able to do what he did. To stand up and speak the truth... even if he's scared.
I also want him to know we are here to support him, and I know he knows that.
How would you feel if it were your child?
What would you do?

In Our Easter Bonnets

Well nobody had a bonnet on.
I am always amazed at my ability to post about an event 5 days after it actually happened. Some of you have already decorated for the 4th of July by now.

All my family was with us this past weekend, and it was loads of fun. We celebrated the boy's birthday... for the last time.
Then we watched my nephew and my son run around like wild hooligans. It's what they do.









There's a very good reason most of those pictures are blurry; they never stop moving.

On Saturday night, we dyed Easter eggs. I think it's an unspoken Southern rule:
"Easter ain't Easter unless you go to church with stained blue and green fingers."



After church, we kept everybody still long enough for the required photo session. The boy AND my nephew complained. It's what they do.









I would be more irritable with their wiggly-ness if they weren't so darn cute...




After sitting impossibly still, we set them free to hunt eggs.
My nephew wanted to keep his "Easter clothes on all day," he said...
"Because it is Easter."
Love that boy.
My son, however, peeled off the church clothes as fast as he could. He had to get down to the serious business of candy-filled eggs.





We have enough chocolate to last until NEXT Easter.
Have a great weekend, friends.

A Global 10 on Tuesday

Today's questions are over at Roots and Rings, but they come from a gal who's from Australia and living in London. (Sue at Simon’s Sista Saw) Cool.


1. Do you prefer fabric or plastic plasters? (or Band-Aids if American)
I had no idea they were called "plasters" by other people.
I prefer the fabric, because I prefer my son to be hive-free. The boy is HIGHLY allergic to the adhesives in Band-Aids, so the fabric ones are a tiny bit better.

2. Do you prefer gel pens, biro or fine liners for everyday writing?
Gel pens all the way. What is a biro?

3. Do you have a fear of needles/dentists/blood (if all three, which is the worst) and is there a story behind it?
Needles? Yes. I hate them.
Dentists? Yes. I despise having to go to the dentist.
Blood? Not really. It doesn't bother me... in small amounts.
Sorry, no good stories.

4. Do you like jelly? Do you eat it at any time other than when poorly?
Huh? Poorly?
I do like jelly... on toast, biscuits, and in PB & J's. I do not like grape jelly, though.

5. What are your Easter traditions? (if not Christian, insert your own meaningful festival here and tell us about that instead)
We love Easter, and we love celebrating it. Because we're Christians, it is the entire focus of what we believe. Christ is risen!
We also believe in chocolate rabbits, egg hunts, big dinners, and new clothes.

6. What’s your favourite book that you have read so far this year?
"The Help." I know, I know... You all read it 25 years ago when it came out. I am a little behind the times.

7. Do you have any magazine subscriptions or recommendations that we should know about?
I have a lifelong subscription to Southern Living and People.
Of course I recommend them.

8. Favourite etsy store (if you know the owner IRL, also include your favourite that you didn’t originally know IRL)?
I don't have a favorite. Or a favourite.
I jump all over the etsy land.

9. If you had play money (£100/$150) that could only be used on shoes, what shoes would you buy?
I am a frugal gal, so I could make that $150 go pretty far! Some Spring wedges, some flip flops... nothing too fancy or too pricey.

10. If you were going pet shopping tomorrow, what would you choose?
Oh my. That question made my stomach lurch a little. I already have a sweet cat and a spasmo dog. I have NO desire for another pet.

Love and Dessert

We're coming down from a birthday party high. Birthday partieS.
Plural. As in multiple celebrations.
It's what we do around here. We live like Nomads, and we have family scattered all around, so we like to S-T-R-E-T-C-H a birthday to it's fullest.

Last weekend, Dan/Daddy's parents and Nonie came to visit, and we celebrated the boy's birthday with them. We went out for Hibachi and had a giant cookie cake...







Taking Dan/Daddy's Nonie to a Japanese steakhouse is enough entertainment to last all year.


The night before his REAL birth DAY, we celebrated with just the 3 of us, and the boy had his first lobster... all to himself. He wouldn't even share a bite with the woman who brought him into this world. That's gratitude for you.




This weekend, all my family came to spend the Easter weekend with us. We celebrated the boys' birthday AGAIN... this time with cake.
I love that little blond head of my nephew popping into the picture to help with the candles.



In putting this post together, I was thinking about 2 things...

1. We are truly blessed. We have close relationships with our families. I know so many people who have strained relationships with family members, and I should never take mine for granted. We actually want to spend time together, and the boy is surrounded by people who love him. Blessed.

2. We like dessert. I just did a fast mental checklist of the sugar we've consumed in one week's time, and it is embarrassing. I didn't even count the mountain of Easter candy sitting in the kitchen. I keep saying to myself,
"How many times do you turn 13?"
I can justify almost anything.


Love and dessert. I will take seconds of either one.