The Bleeping Ironing Board......

I dedicate this entry to my parents and to my Grandmother..........  It will be obvious momentarily.

Im into this whole honesty bit lately, to some degree. 

And ironing fits into the catagory in which I agressively express my feelings of the activity. 

 Behold my ironing board.  And yes, I am realizing just how close in color it is to my wall paint.....  THAT will be changed!  You may also noticed the tattered tail that which my ironing board boasts.   That would be previous attempts at keeping it extended.  Just an FYI.  Yarn, sucks!

Old phone cords, on the other hand, are plenty useful.  So are Dry Cleaners, but that will be approached momentarily.

I will first start off with.......  I am the oldest of a generation that does not possess the same attraction to perfectly ironed attire as both my parents and Grandparents.  Although, I can not fully speak for my cousin "Z", because he is an anomaly.  Is that spelled correctly?  Neither are we fond of the 5 am social hour around the ironing board......  Agian, can't speak for my cousin.

I will also admit, I have a very fond and close in connection with the Dry Cleaner down the street.  So much so, that they recognized me 3 years later, at the grocery.  AND refer to my husband as "Awe Mr. Anna, how is your wife today?".

How could you not LOVE them?

My Hubby however, has decided that I am fully capable of ironing his work clothes for him.  In an effort to "save money".........  I personally think he has issues with my friendship with the dry cleaner.....  Not that it is kinky.  I just think he doesnt like being called "Mr Anna". 

So, here I am, posting at 1 am, blogging about how much I "love" ironing........  I would have done it earlier, but then I wouldnt have had the chance to blog about it.  Because well, I have 4 children, and even going to the restroom alone has not yet happened in oh, 11 years.......

That brings me to another subject (like how I connected that?)

Hubby has a new job.  His new "mentor" (that would be the guy who was picked to get the new guy settled. Is it odd they both have the same name?) was casually chatting about his ex-wife who was a stay at home mom and cheated on him.  Hence the "ex" preceding wife.  That is where Hubby laughed and informed him "well my wife would have to be able to use the restroom alone, before she could ever consider something more....."

The hubby knows me so well.  It also helps that the mentor has only one teenaged kid.  We have 4.  My goal in the next decade is to 1.  pee in private and 2. shower in private!  Maybe one day I can do both in the same day!

And just an FYI to future guests.  Ike can pick a lock, in record time.

Oh, I should probably label this post as "TMI" for those who dont like the word "pee" or find it horrific that I do not like to iron.  Much less actually do laundry......

I Admit It.

I have the organizational skills of a tornado.

This can be particularly daunting, when one moves.  One would think, with the 4 moves we have done, over the course of 3 very short and chaotic years.  I would have figured this whole process out by now.  Or just gotten rid of everything and resorted to living in an empty house. 

Alas, here I sit, ignoring the 3 bins and 2 moving boxes still occupying space in my kitchen.  Even though, their contents have absolutely nothing to do with the kitchen.  I just haven't figured out where I want to put them, and I have no desire to haul them down to the basement.  Eventhough I am fully aware that once I do take them down to the basement, all will be right with the world.  Well, at the very least my kitchen.  I can then proceed to ignore the mountain of laundry growing exponentially in my laundry room, without distraction.......

Oh wait, I forgot to mention we moved...... 

Hey, guess what!  We moved!

Yep!  We are back where we belong, in the South's version of Stepford.  This place is magical!  Most of the Mom's here boast the ability to maintain a perfect home, and perfect children.  Me, not so much.  I would be the variable that throws the whole neighborhood askew.  Instead of car decals boasting my 5 year olds nomination for the Nobel Peace Prize, or my daughter's olympic contending tumbling capabilities.  I make my presence known by the chaotic noise that thumps out of my minivan, as the automatic doors slowly open and various items attempt their escape by pouring out onto the parking lot concrete.  I then herd my feral offspring in a chaotic manner, just hoping and praying that we dont break anything and I have to max out the credit card to become the proud owner of some sort of extremely fragile object that Ill end up having to throw away when I get home.....  I wonder if I could get tornado insurance for when we go grocery shopping.

We also have what I refer to as the Suburban trifecta!  We have 2 Super Walmarts and the most amazing Super target, all exactly the same distance from my house.  Not only that, but they all boast specific properties that cater to your mood.  Feeling put together, freshly showered and coordinated?  Well, then off to Super Target you go.  Just simply freshly showered and in need of a few necessities?.....  Well off to hoity toity walmart you go.  Not feeling all that freshly showered, in need of an ego boost, and perhaps hoping to capture the next feature moment on peopleofwalmart?  Well then, it is off to the Red Neck Walmart.  It's great, big box shopping as it should be! 

And finally, we have neighbors that are kind enough to notify you via HOA Police that your lawn is in need of some attention, anytime something other than perfectly manicured grass appears in your yard.

I have learned some valuable lessons living here.

1.  You do not shop at the same store more than once in a 24 hour period.  For those that are organized, you just simply do not forget that key ingredient.  The rest of us, well, you drive 10 miles out of your way to secure key ingredient, and hope no one recognizes you.  What I don't get is this.  If no one else shops at the same store twice, how would they know you did?  Unless of course they got some sort of information gathering system in place with the store itself.  'Momveylance!'

2.  You supply the guest bathroom with the extra cush expensive toilet paper and good towels.  You can use the cheap stuff in your personal bathroom.

This next one is my favorite, and explains the need for multiple purses.......

3.  Keep a separate purse already stocked for specified functions.  You have your swim purse that holds sunscreen, goggles, everything swim ready.  For shopping you have your purse stocked with coupons, shopping list, and reusable bags.  For child herding, you have your purse stocked with First Aid (all purses should have first aid, but this one should also work as a mini triage unit), high limit credit card, whistle, and flask with hard liquor.......  And of course if you have a little one, there is also the coveted diaper bag.

Ok, that is all done and we are good now right?

Now we can get onto the fact that it is Summer Break, and here in suburbia, that involves keeping our kids busy with wholesome activities.  And no, these wholesome activities are not to nurture their young minds or expose them to new experiences.  Nooooooo.  These wholesome activities are to keep them from eating each other alive, and to keep one's house in tact.  Or in my case, prevent Obama from declaring it a national disaster.

So, daily we splash on a little Eau de SPF75 (gotta keep that pastey white complexion now), throw on our pool attire, and hit the local watering hole.

 Sometimes Mom brings the wrong purse, and instead of goggles we have ummmmm, well not goggles.

 Sometimes Mom says 'NO' and ruins the whole day.

 Sometimes it just takes the running of children through the fountain to make everything OK again.

 Sometimes 2 hours of swimming ends up being just a tad too much fun...

 Sometimes Mom needs life explained to her by a 3 year old who apparently knows everything.

Sometimes people stare at you funny when you show up with a tie dye dinosaur that only speaks spanish....

 Dinner is usually inhaled after a day at the pool.

 Even by picky eaters!

 In some instances, one becomes so hungy one must resort to shovels for eating ustensils.....

 And then there are rainy days.....

And things happen, bodies get dumped.......

Hopefully tomorrow goes better, we only have the one compost bin for now.