I Pledge My Head

Lately, Eli has been pestering me to join 4-H.  Not so much for what it teaches but because her BFF Olivia is in 4-H and heaven forbid Eli miss out on ANYTHING her friends are doing.  Add to that, the 4-H leaders are requesting the honor of my presence as a co-leader. 

I have a single-minded response to both of these:  OVER MY DEAD AND BLEEDING BODY!

You see, I am a 4-H survivor, er, alum.  Yes, once upon a time, I "pledged my head to clearer thinking, my heart to greater loyalty, my hands to larger service and my health to better living for my club, my community, my country, and my world".  Twenty years later, I am a half-crazed Momzilla so you can see how far pledging my head got me in life. 

I suspect my mother enrolled me in the torture of 4-H because she wanted to see me, as well as her other six daughters, domesticated into the Stepford version of Proverbs 31. 

Instead, her eight children turned out like this:

In our defense, we came from a church that did a lot of intermarrying so the gene pool may have had some cross-contamination. 

But I digress...

Not that I didn't make a valiant effort in the domestic arts.  By the time I came along (the 7th kid in), Mom had handed over sewing instruction to my oldest sister Beth.  I was sent packing for two weeks up to the mosquito-infested state of Minnesota to gain instruction on how to operate the infernal sewing machine and serger. 

This is me putting in the stitches (only sewing over my thumb a few times) under the glamorous country blue and dusty rose wall decorations that swathed my sister's house in the mid-80s. 

This is me taking OUT the stitches (yet again).  My sister would usually give up and tell me to go watch her kids while she efficiently whisked this number through her machine. 

And to make matters more humiliating, Mom also entered me in the "clothing review" in which you had to model the outfit you made.  And write fetching commentary to be read while you pranced in front of the sparse crowds of other moms who made their kids take 4-H projects to the fair.

I am sure that I wrote something along the lines in "Stepping out this fall in a lovely knee-length polka dot skirt is Jane." when I should have written "Behind those ginormous tortoise-shell-framed glasses is Jane who hasn't realized that Keds should never be the shoe of choice to accessorize any outfit, no matter how homemade." 

Of course, my sister Mary took to sewing like a duck to water and had to show off her mad skills by making a prom dress:

She also had figured out the Big Bang theory and had her ears pierced.  Life was so unfair back then. 

Alas, despite all the baking, sewing, and craft-making elementary years, I am still domestically inept and have emotional scars from my time in 4-H.  I think my Squirrels have enough reason to need therapy so we'll skip 4-H for them.  Plus, ADHD and a sewing machine...now THERE'S a recipe for disaster. 

Aboriginal Glow & Mascara Eye Jabs

Move aside, ole Mary Kay, because the Squirrels have discovered a deep affinity for makeup!

It may have started with our K family summer vacation where Rachel and Kate tortured poor Erin with subtle colors like hot pink and purple:

Or perhaps it was Lena's rampant makeover binge at Christmas this year, after which she would cross her arms, step back thoughtfully, and say "My work here is done!":

But whatever (or whoever) the culprit, the Squirrels are vastly in love with makeup experimentation.  Armed with new Caboodles (ah...fond memories of the '80s), no one is safe:

So what did the Squirrels want to spend their Walmart gift cards from Dale & Candy K on but MAKEUP!  And not just any makeup but a multi-layered, retina-burning display of colored powders, blushes, eye shadows, and lip glosses:

I talked Kate out of the purple glitter mascara but she was definitely determined that WHATEVER makeup kit she bought at her favorite store (Claire's...motto:  lots of overpriced crappola that is guaranteed to break upon usage), it HAD to include mascara.  She is a bit of a disaster trying to apply the stuff.  It winds up under her eyes, on her eyelids, and once on her chin (not sure what happened there) not to mention the more-often-than-not eye jab that leaves her whimpering.  BEAUTY IS PAINFUL! 

Eli, on the other hand, has a unique method of applying powder (pat, pat...rrruuuuubbbb all around with her hand).  And the sad news is that most generic makeup kits are made for the vanilla crowd, not my beautiful chocolate Squirrels, so Eli ends up having a faint Aboriginal glow to her after multiple applications.  Who am I to judge?  I tried to accomplish a "smoky eye" on myself and wound up looking like I just stepped out of the boxing ring after three rounds.

Why do I allow such chaos?  See for yourself:

That's right...at least a 30-second interval of absolute silence in my day and it all comes off with a good washing.  PRICELESS...even if they bawl when I won't let them go out of the house looking like hookers who fell face-first into a Crayola vat.  Mother of the Year, here I come!  Where is my crown and sash?

"Mom" Jeans Steal Ugly Sweater Show

By popular demand, the results of the Ugly Holiday Sweater Contest (AKA proof that my family is not quite right in the head) are hereby posted:

First, the Runway Show of all participants:
(Facebook followers will have to click on "View Original Post" if reading this in my imported Notes)



While it is hard to beat Tim closing down the show with a "shedding" of his holiday sweater, Susan BY FAR stole the show in a frightening pair of "Mom" jeans she had found at the Salvation Army.  I mean, not that her holiday turtleneck and vest with holiday lights on the bottom wasn't devastating enough, she donned the most unflattering pair of jeans on Planet Earth.  Susan still has a ridiculous bod after three kids, thanks to all her 1/2 marathons, 5ks, and triathlons so YOU KNOW if she looks like a dumpy butt in these jeans, what does that say for the rest of you?

First runner up has to be Mary in the Dual Goose sweater:

Second Place goes to Brenton - not only for his girly sweater, but for his fantastic runway swagger complete with nose-picking and butt-scratching:

And, of course, my favorite purchase from the local thrift shop, as modeled by Erin, is third prize:

Honorable Mention goes out to one that was not even in the contest...but I have to give a shout out to Jonathan & Lucas modeling my Christmas gift from Mom...that's right, I am now the proud owner of a dazzling blue SNUGGIE!

Is it a choir robe?  Graduation gown? Monk outerwear?  Oh, the possibilities are endless!

Best Runway Walk goes to Lauren...she is FIERCE!

I have a feeling this contest will grow and expand for next year.  Stay tuned!

Ebony Tickles the Ivories

Some of you may think the Grammies is the ultimate night of musical talent.  And you would be right.  But certainly right on its heels is the 2nd annual piano recital of Eli the Squirrel.  We thought, since she uses the vacuum cleaner handle as a microphone stand and sings long ballads at her reflection in the french doors, that CERTAINLY she had a penchant for music.  Evidently, she does if it does not involve daily practice. 

Nonetheless, Eli has been enrolled in painful piano lessons for a little over a year now.  You would think after my harrowing seven years with Mrs. Van Middendorp (whom we called Mrs. Van MiddenDORK behind her back) would have scarred me badly enough to avoid putting my daughter through the same agony.  Seriously, the only reason I managed seven years of piano lessons as a kid was A) my mom forced all 8 of her children through the same agony and B) Mrs. Van MiddenDORK had a television...something my childhood woefully lacked. 

Never mind that the television was one of those old console models that made a CHUNK CHUNK sound ever time you changed it between its three and a half channels (depending on the positioning of rabbit ears and the use of tin foil at random moments).  We kids all suffered through piano lessons just so we could have the unequaled pleasure of watching "Laura Ingalls Wilder" or "The Cosby Show".  If you were unlucky in the lesson lineup, you wound up watching Peter Jennings on the news or "Jeopardy" (although I am FILLED with useless knowledge, thanks to that show!). 

Mrs. Van MiddenDORK didn't know about the LO KNO PLAY method, so we learned old school.  Starting with "The Middle C Twins" and ending, if you are my sister Mary, with the "Hungarian Dance" for six months straight before you finally gave up and quit.  There were no stickers or prizes...only a pyramid shaped metronome that she could wind up and set the pendulum ticking out the tempo for the song you mysteriously forgot to practice until exactly five minutes before you were supposed to leave for lessons. 

So, in juxtaposition, cut to Eli, and her 15-year-old piano teacher.  Eli gets prizes every week, she just had a "Piano Party" tonight, and she is already learning duets with me.  She does stick out at recital time, though, as her counterparts are all vanilla white, and from very conservative A/C families.  I didn't notice until Eli sat down to play her tune (with her braids sticking every direction and an armful of Silly Bands) that she had put several temporary tattoos all over herself.  Lovely!

We'll suffer through a few years more until she fulfills the prerequisite to play the instrument she's REALLY dying to play...the drums. 

Without further ado, I present Eli the Squirrel - the Ebony Tickling the Ivories (and other politically incorrect ethnic statements).  [Facebook followers will need to click on "view original post" to see the video.]

JBR Part Deux - Eli's Medal

As an addendum to the last post, Elisabeth deserves a post all to herself for the fact that she took first place in the Jingle Bell run Girls Age 8 division!  Eli had stayed overnight the night before at a slumber party and was not the happiest camper when we had to pick her up early the morning of the race.  She was also pouting a bit after the race because she was very tired. 

But when she was awarded the shiny medal for first place, she beamed from ear to ear and said she'd do it all again next year.  Amazing what a little bit of "hardware" and recognition can do!

Bucket List: Jiggle Belly Run (Check)

For those of you following the sad misadventures of Momzilla, the Charter Member of the Exercise Haters' Club, you know I was slowly training for the local Jingle Bell Run (or, in my case, the "Jiggle Belly Run") to support arthritis.  I had two people give me great advice about a free podcast on iTunes called "Couch to 5K" by Robert Ullrey which sets a 9-week training course to music (and Robert telling you when to warm up, walk, run, and cool down). 

All was going well until I began to feel that, instead of supporting arthritis, I was developing it in both knees.  My left knee would start to give out on an incline and I felt like my kneecap was threatening to come off my leg and roll down the road.  My right knee would swell up like a balloon post run.  My final run before Race Day was the Monday before Thanksgiving - two weeks before Race Day.  So why I thought I could go two weeks without doing anything and be all right on Race Day just goes to show you I may not be the sharpest knife in the drawer!

Nonetheless, Husband, Eli, Boy Wonder Wyatt (our photographer and "bag watcher"), Renee and I duly loaded into the Blue Bus last Saturday to join the rest of our Local Christian Radio Station Team for the run.  Snow had fallen the night before and the grounds were covered in several inches of mostly undisturbed white fluffiness. 

We took group pictures:

Stretched out:

And took off running!

I'd like to say I am blurry in this photo because I am running like the wind, Bullseye, but the truth is, I was too close to the photographer (sigh!). 

A mere 30 minutes later, Husband and Eli crossed the finish line:

Three and a half minutes later, Renee (who slowed WAY down to keep me company) and I crossed the finish line:

I am not sure if my arms are raised in victory or surrender but I am fairly certain that my asthmatic breathing let Renee know I was behind her the whole race.  Seriously, when you are used to your own training route (and drowning yourself out with blaring iPod music), and then have to run an unfamiliar route, it feels twice as long.  Renee kept energetically telling me to lengthen my stride and to get as much as I could out of each stride.  I tried lengthening once and nearly had my knee give out.  Then Renee because a little obsessive about passing everyone so she was off the trail and running through the snow on the side with me trying to keep up, and dodge the snowflakes that were going straight into my eyeballs.  Snow was seeping into my mesh-like shoes and causing frostbite.  Renee should train Navy SEALS.  I'm just sayin'...

The best part of the day?  The team leaders made reservations at Texas Roadhouse and we all totally undid all our calorie burning workout by loading up on carbs and red meat.  Now these are MY kind of teammates.  We'll see you next year, Local Christian Radio Station Team! 

PS  The second best part of the day HAD to be the crazy costumes.  Seriously, I am not sure how some people could run in these!

(Look closely at this one and you see two teenagers dressed in tweener long underwear, panties, and training bras). 

From Sloth to Dribbletastic

As if the chaos of the soccer season wasn't enough to make me feel like I lived in my Blue Bus, we enrolled both of the spastic Squirrels in basketball.  We figured Eli would be fine with it, being that she was in a basketball clinic last year and has attended the local college clinic to shoot hoops with the men's basketball team. 

 Katybird, on the other hand, is quite possibly the world's laziest sloth.  No, seriously, I love my kid but I tell her to empty the dishwasher and she throws herself to the ground and starts sobbing, "You mean ALL BY MYSELF?  NO ONE is going to HELP me?".  She doesn't want to return her craftastic supplies to the basement because there are spiders down there.  Getting her to sort and gather laundry can take all evening with several redirections when she becomes distracted by floating dust particles and shiny objects. 

However, Katybird has discovered she totally digs basketball. She is excited to go every Saturday and isn't half bad.  Elisabeth is in an age bracket where there are only two teams so the same two teams play each other every week.  She's fast but the shortest on the team and is assigned a super aggressive guard from the opposing team. 

I'm trying to teach her how to box out - the only basketball skill I was halfway good at because I had the rear end to do some damage and elbows that were at everyone else's eyeball level...since I only played in 8th grade when I was far ahead of everyone on the growth chart.  Luckily, Darren is helping coach Elisabeth's team and he has far more skills than me.  Although I don't know if I care as much about skill development as I do having Elisabeth and Kate both burn off the excess ADHD energy that would otherwise lead to broken Christmas ornaments in the house.