The principal at the school where I work, and where my children attend, was walking through the cafeteria the other day when I saw her stop to talk to my son.  A few minutes later, I took a big gulp as she approached the kitchen where I was working. 

Not that I was terribly worried, as his blatant honesty has prepared me for anything.

Let’s review, shall we?

He once told a doctor that she had a, “really, really, really big nose” and he told an elderly woman that she was dead.  He saw a wrinkled, old lady at the store and said that she needed to use lotion and has even complimented large people…by telling them that he likes their “chinny chin chins.”

And, let’s not forget when he named his testicles, Racer and Jennifer, then proceeded to tell complete strangers about his “babies”.

My son keeps things interesting.  Although he has a whole lot of quirks, there is one part of his behavior that is constant; you never know what he is going to say.

I was thinking of this when the principal walked up to me and stated, “Diane, I have to tell you what your son just said.”

I began to form an apology in my head, but then she continued, “He wanted to wish me a happy afternoon and tell me that he’s been praying for my sister.  He says the most appropriate things!”

To which I replied, “Give him a minute.”

Follow

Email

A funny thing happens when, in a seven-day period, you have three doctor’s appointments, your car gets broken into, you take your kids trick-or-treating, have friends over for dinner, then your other friends open an art gallery, you attend a Cub Scout outing and fill thirty-six bags full of leaves.  Thirty.  Six.

All of that?  Means you don’t have time for a blog post.

So, in light of the events of the last week, and in lieu of an actual post, here is a continuation of my Life List. 

11.  Visit the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem.  Probably not the safest place to travel, but I’m willing to risk it.

12.  Get a tattoo.  This will be over my husband’s dead body.

13.  Taste each chocolate in the Intense collection from Richart Chocolates.  The categories are Balsamic, Roasted, Fruity, Citrus, Herbal, Floral and Spiced.  Need I say more?

14.  Go skinny dipping.  This won’t be pretty, so I’ll likely go it alone.

15.  Grow my own tomatoes.  Because my in-laws are probably tired of giving us all of theirs.

16.  Take a dance class.  I’d like it to be an old-school, hip-hop class, but I’m close to 40 and I think it might be illegal to shake my groove thing like that in public.  Polka, anyone?

17.  Learn how to properly skip a stone.  Though, not at the same time as #14.

18.  Sample 100 types of beer.  Natural Light Ice, I am not talking to you.

19.  Renew my wedding vows with my kids present.  That sound you just heard?  That was my husband screaming.

20.  Breed a dog and keep one of the puppies.  Yep, that’s still my husband.

Follow

Email

On Saturday night, our family visited a haunted house and forest.  I hate scary things.  Do you see where this is going?

My kids had never seen me in a situation like this, although I have told them about the time that I sat in the car at a haunted house while my friends went in.  When we pulled into the parking lot, I burst into tears because I was overwhelmed with fright.  I was 25 years old.

I have always disliked scary stuff of any kind, but real life incidents involving a peeping Tom and an ex-boyfriend who stalked me made things worse.  Now I have two dogs.  And, two guns.

But, on Saturday I was in the middle of the dark woods and my guns were at home.  Plus, this was a Boy Scout function and I’m pretty sure it’s extra illegal to shoot a Scout.

When people were emerging from piles of leaves or simply walking up quietly behind me so that when I looked over my shoulder to see the empty trail, but instead I saw a monster face practically sitting on my shoulder, my choices were to a) scream b) pee my pants c) begin yelling “small children” in order to get the goons to back off or d) all of the above.

Or, it’s possible I did all of those things and used my 11 year old daughter as a human shield, wherein I picked her up and held her out in front of me as if offering my child as a sacrifice to a zombie.

Follow

Email

About a week ago, I had a nightmare. 

I dreamed that there was a knock at our front door.  Keep in mind, a knock at the door is a daily occurance around here.  We live in close proximity to quite a few schools and there are a lot of politically active people in our neighborhood.  Someone is always fundraising or trying to get you to swing your vote.

In this nightmare, I ignored the knock.  So the dream was, virtually, reality because that is exactly what I do when I’m awake, except that I usually see the person coming and shut the blinds first.

In my dream, I ignored the knock, only to hear three, consecutive knocks a few moments later.  Against my better judgement, I opened the door only to be pushed back into my foyer by an intruder with a gun.

Then I woke up.

This nightmare will stay with me for awhile.  I know that.  I clearly remember two nightmares I had when I was eight years old, a series of them that I had when my ex-boyfriend was harassing me and one a few years ago about me, my husband, our two kids and the SUV in which we were riding going over the side of a cliff.  Whoever said that dreams are rainbows and unicorns doesn’t know a thing about my brain.

Last night, in my real life, someone rang the doorbell and I ignored it.  A few moments later, there were three, consecutive rings.  It was just like what I had experienced in my dream.

My 11 year old daughter asked, “Are you going to answer the door?”

I replied, “No.”

She questioned me further.  “Why?  Are you thinking about that dream you had?”

“No”, I lied.

She was on to me.  She glared at me and said, “You know, Mom, you can’t let your nightmares control your life.”

I may not be as smart as she is, but I’ll be damned if I didn’t open that door.

Follow

Email