I Love My Sister

So, my sister tagged me today. I think she may be the only one that actually reads my blog, so I am going to definitely going to play along.

You are supposed to pick the fourth file in your photo files and then pick the fourth photo. Here goes:


This is the fourth photo from the fourth file on my computer where I spend most of my time:


This is from a trip that my honey and I took to Jerome, Arizona with his son back in February of '08. It was just a day trip and my boys were with their dad that weekend. I took this picture of the Hotel Connor because it made me think of my own little Conner. There was a band playing in the Spirit Room and I snuck glimpses of the people rocking out as we walked past the window.

This is the fourth photo from the photos saved on my camera phone.




It is my little guys standing in the front yard right before we headed to the bus stop the day before yesterday. The weather is so gorgeous right now in the mornings. It reminds me that Arizona really is a lovely place to live during the winter, spring, and fall. I took this picture to send to my sister Regan, because she is so great at sending me photos almost daily of her amazing Griffin. It makes me feel like they are not so far away, after all, and I appreciate that because I miss that little Golding family something terrible!

I love you Regan!

My Two Sons

Here are the proofs from my sons' kindergarten school photos. It cost me 71.50 for each of their photo packages. Is it just me or does that seem a bit EXCESSIVE? Anyway, the pictures are cute and I chose two poses for each of my boys. Can you guess which ones?




They are so different, but they are also very alike. For example, last week Conner spent a long time discussing camels with me before bed. I don't know where the sudden interest in camels came from, but OK. Anyway, I told him it was time to stop talking about camels and go to sleep and I said, "I love you Conner." Some time passed and he did not answer me. Finally he said, "Mom, I love you too." Pause "But I really love camels too."

Then this week, I was laying there with Cody, waiting for both of the boys to fall asleep and I told them I love them, as always. Conner replied quickly with an, "I love you too Mommy." Finally Cody said, "I love you mom, but I really love cars."

I need to teach them that no woman wants to hear a "but" after "I love you."

Conversations with God

So, I picked up the boys on Sunday after spending the weekend "camping" with their paternal grandparents and their father. I asked them what they did during the weekend and they both said they had gone fishing. I asked if they caught any fish, to which Cody told me that Conner did indeed catch a fish. I asked Conner to tell me about the fish, watching both of them in the rear view mirror as we drove home.

Conner - I caught a big one, Mom.

Me - Oh yeah, what did you do with it?

Conner - Well, it died. It was on the ground and then a crab came and ate it's eyeballs out.

Me (trying not to gag) - Oh, that's not good...

Conner - Yeah, I'm going to tell God.

Long, dramatic pause...

Conner (looking up to the sky) - God? A lobster ate my fish's eyeballs out and that is NOT nice.

Another pause...

Conner - And, I have the hiccups!

And God replied - I will get working on that right away...

Just kidding.

What's next? Ostrich Burgers?

So, it seems to me that every time that my boyfriend is feeling grumpy with me he brings something home from the store that is unusual and wants to cook for himself. This has happened 3 times now, so I am really starting to think my theory is correct.

I should tell you that I am a vegetarian, however I do cook meat for my boyfriend and our sons. I cook hamburger, chicken, steaks, bacon, fish sticks... I also do most of the cooking for the family and I do the majority of the grocery buying.

The first time it happened he brought home some sort of lamb thing. I didn't even come near it. Why would anyone want to eat a LAMB of all things? As in, Mary had a little... Come on. The next time it happened, he showed up with a giant whole chicken. And then last night, he came home with a big rack of ribs. These purchases are always joined with several cans of pork and beans and other random supplies (canned beets, anyone?).

What is next? Ostrich patties? Buffalo burgers? No, I got it. Cow tongue. I have tried asking about my observation, but he insists it is completely coincidental.

Persisitant Munching Syndrome

PMS

I have PMS and I am warning you, I will eat your arm if it gets too close to me. And then I might cry about it later.

Tin foil and other things I love...

Tin Foil - Shiny, Useful, Awesome: I recently found out, thanks to a random email in my inbox, that tin foil is even more fabulous than I already thought it was! Did you know that tin foil boxes have tabs on either end that keep the roll from coming out? I did not! How long have these useful little tabs been there and why didn't I know about them? Just another reason that tin foil beats out plastic wrap, hands down!




And have I mentioned that my sons are the coolest thing since sliced bread? Because they are. Every day they amaze me. They already have an incredible confidence about themselves and that makes me very proud. And I love that they are so willing to express their love to not only me, but other people too. It has to make you feel good to hear a little boy say that they love you. Nowadays, Cody has taken to calling me, "MaaMaa" (long ah sound). I went from Mommy to Mom to the latest incarnation of MaaMaa. All of which sound like heaven to my ears.



That's all. I love tin foil and my boys. Have a great day!

"It's Hooker-Palooza, Kelly!"

So, my place of employment happens to be in a very undesireable part of Phoenix. In fact, my boss actually shot and killed an intruder in our front lobby before I started working here. If you have never been exposed to the underbelly of society, some things can be quite shocking.

For example, it is disturbing when a drug/whore house begins operating directly across the street. I am not even kidding. We used to have an older, African-American buddy living across the street named Jerry. Jerry was kind enough to let me park in his front lot and he would keep an eye on me when I was going in or coming out of the office.

Last week I was parking in my usual spot in front of Jerry's yard when I noticed someone standing in the doorway of the house watching me. I got out of my jeep and the person, who I initially thought was a teenage boy, walked towards me. I was surprised because the person, who I would soon find out was a middle-aged woman, was carrying a Corona beer. This is at 7am. This is not my Jerry.

I politely asked her where Jerry was and she answered back a very confusing babble about a short man. Hmmm. I moved my jeep immediately and walked to our shop, worrying about what had happened to my buddy.

Fast forward to this week. I return to work on Tuesday from a vacation in Utah to find that Jerry's house is now a full-fledged drug/prostitution operation. Jerry has moved in with relatives somewhere and the house is being rented out. My service manager at work that goes by the name, "Hillbilly" announced the neighboring development by exclaiming loudly, "It's Hooker-Palooza, Kelly!"

He wasn't kidding! In one day there were over 55 cars that paid a visit to Jerry's house. One guy comes by 3 times a day and is in and out with whatever he is snorting,shooting or smoking in less than 3 minutes. Cab cars pull up with prostitutes of various ethnicities and ages and people come and go like a subway depot. It is incredible. Have the police been involved, you might ask? Well, yes. Has anything really been done? Well, no. This is also an unfortunately shocking part of this entire thing. Nothing is happening and I am not sure why.

So, in the meantime, my boss has armed the females with pepper spray. Wildfire, it is called. "When your life is on the line..." Well, I hope that I don't have to use this spray on anyone and I hope my life isn't "on the line" anytime soon. What I do know is that these people across the street, their lives ARE on the line. I don't care at all about the dealers, but these prostitutes and these drug addicted lost souls make me very sad. This is one small house in one small city block. Do you know how many Jerry's houses there are? It is terrifying.