Hello? Romantic Comedy?

Tips to writers for Romantic Comedies: Where's the beef? The whole reason women rent the Romantic Comedy is for the eye candy. If you don't spend the money and time to sign up some beefcake for your movie, make sure there's at least one reason for him to take his shirt off. Is it hot out there working in the garden? How about working on that pickup in the front yard, anywhere else we'd think white trash but in the romantic comedy it's the perfect excuse to take off that white T-shirt because you are SO HOT! Dead of winter? Add in a hot tub? Shoot I've watched some movies where someone gets hurt in the woods in subzero temperatures and some good looking guy (beefcake) has to rip off his coat and shirt to stave the wound and keep the poor sap warm (I'm not complaining.) Better yet they have to come in from the snow, just make sure the heat is broken and up to 90 degrees so everyone can wander around in their bathing suits.

All work and no play makes Jack well, Jack. Don't lead us along too long until they have that first kiss. Better yet, start the movie with it, usually with his shirt off and we are hooked. Some movies have the couple arguing too long, too long meaning we get up to get another glass of wine and get immediately sidetracked into something like doing the dishes or painting our nails. If the couple is at odds, just give them a little alcohol and have them lock lips. Or you can have them lock lips in the beginning them hate each other right afterwards to get the movie moving along. Show off. If the movie is setin a beautiful place, then show it. Take us to the beach with all the guys in no shirts (again, why we rent the movies) and add in a few bikinis for the poor sap sitting next to us pretending to like it. Show the beautiful sky, make everything look romantic and watch as we sigh when the couple gets together. Best example, Mama Mia and the Greek setting - amazing that we really never noticed that Pierce Brosnan singing. The whole point of the Romantic Comedy is to escape from reality, that's why we chose this over War and Peace or Steel Magnolias. With the right recipe of beefcake, eye candy and a filler of scenery you have the perfect movie any woman would want to watch.

Gingerbread Men and Winter Snack

Fun story written for the kids in max's class, they LOVE it when I use their names in my stories, of course it has a gingerbread theme!

Twas the party before Winter Break, when all through Old Richmond School Mike, Samiya and Tanner were excited, parties are cool. Tyler ran to the table of crafts made with care, In hopes that good eats would soon would be there. Julius and Jessica were nestled all snug in their seats, While visions of cookies and candies danced at their feet! And Mr. Brookshire with his clipboard and Mrs. Lynch with her tea, Settled with a big pile of gifts with glee! When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter, Max sprang from his desk to see what was the matter. Away to the door Jayden and Hannah flew like a flash, Emma even jumped over the bucket of trash! A funny looking schoolbus pulled into the lot, Katie knew something special it brought. When, what to Eli’s wondering eyes should see, But a big gingerbread Man and all of his friends set free. He was a happy cookie, so yummy and nutritious, Daylan knew in a moment it they’d be delicious. More rapid than runners Gingerbread ran down the hall, Followed by all his pals, big and small! "Come now my gingerbread friends, let’s go! There’s a party at Mrs. Lynch’s you know! They have special icing so today we are a treat! Now dash away! Dash away! You’re cookies to eat! As quick as a cat down the hall they flew, Jumping into Mrs. Lynch’s Classroom two by two. In front of Claire and Jessica, they jumped and lay still, Waiting for Ava and Austin to decorate then eat their fill . Kaden loved the icing, Jayden the gummy bears and sparkles for fun, Cecelia even put M&M’s on some. Aristotle and Abriya filled their cookies with glee, Creating beautiful works of art for all to see. No one saw Santa hanging beside the back door, Enjoying the party while tapping his foot on the floor. He drove the bus bringing the gingerbread joy, Laughing as he watched all the little girls and boys. His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry! His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry! He laughed as Max put a red hot for a nose, And chuckled as Ava put sprinkles on her girl’s toes. One gingerbread chuckled as a Tanner tickled his belly, Another squirmed as a Emma squirted on some jelly! Head to toe, covered with pretty white frosting, A ginger girl thought this was better than any costume. One little gingerbread dude hung in a corner shaking, He really had no idea what they were making. What if they made him look like Justin Bieber or a GIRL, he’s not wearing a tutu for a twirl! He sprang to his feet, trying to run from the room, But Santa caught him at the door before he zoomed. Don’t worry young man, this is a party of fun, "Mrs. Lynch 2nd grade class will make you look better than none! So the little gingerbread man went and had some fun, He got a blue frosting coat and a gummie bear when done. Pulling away in his strange bus, they heard Santa say, Happy Winter Break Old Richmond have a fun day!

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas...

On the twelfth day of Christmas my family gave to me: 12 pounds of turkey 11 cups of egg nog 10 kids a fighting 9 teens a texting 8 dogs a barking 7 toilet clogs 6 packs of batteries 5 hours of dinner! 4 ugly casseroles 3 Surprise guests 2 table arguments And a blinding Christmas headache!

Christmas Bender - It is better to give than receive

I am a last minute shopper, and I have a very good reason. You see, I love to give gifts at Christmas, LOVE to give rather than receive, this presents a problem when our bank account starts to dwindle from my love of GIVING! One Christmas I decided that I was going to do all my shopping early, and spend the week before Christmas break sitting in front of the fire congratulating myself on how organized I was. Things went very well when I did all my shopping, found the PERFECT gift for everyone on my list AND even had them wrapped. I arrived at the week before Christmas Break full of pride at my Christmas organization and thought about that hot toddy in front of the fire. Then I went on what my husband called a “Christmas Bender,” you see I had bought such a PERFECT gift for everyone on my list that I couldn’t wait until Christmas for them to open it. I “accidentially” put some REALLY COOL gifts I’d purchased for my children in their bathroom for them to find, then acted dismayed that they’d opened them –and of course, loved the stuff I’d picked out. My girlfriend got hers early because I knew that she’d love to wear it to the next race we had coming up and unfortunately it was BEFORE Christmas. After this bender, I had a dilemma, I gave away everything I’d just shopped for and now WHAT WAS I GOING TO GIVE FOR CHRISTMAS! Out I had to go shopping again but luckily for everyone on my list, I had such a creative mind that I found another really cool set of gifts for my list, things that were BETTER than what I just gave away. My husband stood at the door looking at my arms loaded with bags and held out his hands. “Hand them over,” he said. “What?” How could I part with these perfect gifts? “Give them to me, you’ll give them away again and we’ll have to take out a second mortgage to cover Christmas this year,” he muttered. “But I won’t do that, honest. Just this one thing for you,” I started to reach into the bag. With the nimbleness of knowing that it was going to hit his wallet, he takes all the bags from me before I can pull anything out and walks away with them, I start to follow he stops and turns, “You go somewhere else, I’m going to hide these until Christmas Eve when the shops are closed.” I feel like the addict wondering what am I going to do with 5 days and no presents to give out? “But, I mean, don’t you want me to wrap them?” He replies, “You can wrap everything Christmas Eve. Don’t move.” I watch him go into the garage, calculating in my mind all the possible places he could hide them in there, I have a good guess of where if I find the need to look for them – just to wrap them. Of course, he didn’t know about the special present still in my car for him, so to appease my addiction to Christmas giving I follow him saying, “Look at this big box, don’t you want to know what’s in it? It’s the PERFECT present for you!” Watch out for that Christmas Bender, buy your presents early, wrap them and hide them----just don’t forget where you hid them come Christmas Eve otherwise you’ll be out with the rest of humanity on Christmas Eve fighting the mall traffic! Ever find that perfect present and can’t wait to give it to the one you love?

A Little Mind Game Is A Terrible Thing to Waste

Standing at the top of a mountain, one foot attached to a snowboard, the second waiting to attach, I’m struck with something amazing. “I’m too old for this shit,” I think as I look down there and watch someone wipe out. Sure they get up and keep going but when I fall, it hurts. Maybe I’ve got a longer distance to fall that a child, I’ve got more padding around the assets so it shouldn’t hurt as bad, but it does. My mind and my body tell me, “we don’t want to do this, we remember all the aches and pains from last year, why do it again this year?” I look down again and like most things in my life, I have to talk myself into starting. In races, I tell myself at the starting line that I haven’t come this far in training to turn around and walk away no matter how tempting it may be. Plus I show up right before the gun goes off so there’s not so much time to THINK about what I’m getting myself into. On a snowboard it’s a little easier, the only way down is to go down. You can’t ride the lift back down, it’s down the mountain or sit up there and freeze. So I think, I could WALK down the mountain then go find the peppermint schnappes, but that same ego jumps in, “you can do this, you did it all last year, sure you sucked at it, but you did it. Now strap that foot in and go.” Most snowboarders don’t really care about strapping that foot in, but those of us just starting out get A LITTLE nervous about attaching both feet to a board with no way to get them out. So I strap in and down I go, no really, down I go. I fall down the first part of the hill on my face, the second part of the hill on my back but actually make it down. I hit the bottom, really, hit the bottom and look at the lift. “Don’t do it,” I hear that little voice in my head, “Go for it” says another voice but all my body says is “WHY?” as I head for the lift. I’m sore, I can’t turn my head to the right or lift my arms above my shoulder and I can’t show you my bruise. But my ego is still intact and I didn’t listen to that little voice and as I ride the lift again on day two, I’m determined to ride not slide down the mountain. Anything hard in life is always worth the effort once you achieve it, that feeling that is oh so sweet when you’re able to make it without wiping out is worth all the bumps and bruises on the way.

A Little Elfin Magic by Hanz

An elf’s life at the Melang Household. Hanz our resident Christmas elf wanted to share how hard it is to be an elf at the Melang House! “Santa put me on this duty of watching the Melang Boys and reporting back if they’ve been naughty or nice. He never told me how hard it would be! First I keep trying to hide around the house from the boys, but every morning little Max is up at 530am LOOKING for me, and finds me every time! Here comes his hand pulling me from behind the Ovaltine in the pantry and running screaming to his Mom! I wish he would wash his hands before carrying me! Then they take my candy stash, I keep trying to hide my candy under their pillows but the first night the dog ate it (starburst) then the second night the boys found it an ate it! I’m going to have to find better places to hide candy! Then comes competition, Santa knew that the Melang boys are very busy so he sent two friends – Franz and Theodore to help me keep track of them. They’re twins, and like to hide in the same place, one of their favorites was in Max and Wolfgang’s shoes on the morning they traveled back from the mountains. Since the family travels back and forth from the Mountains, I’ve got to use my Elfen Magic to travel too! I’m not sure I have enough fairy dust! Every morning we hide around the house but every morning someone FINDS US! I’ve been carried around the house by the dog, dropped on my head by their Dad, and even dropped in the toilet! The humiliation never ceases, luckily like their Mom, I just get up, glue my head back on my body and keep going! She’s given me a few energy gels to help but nothing like fairy dust and sugar! I am happy to say that both boys at this time are on the NICE list (we checked on the computer). I’ve written notes in my elfen hand telling them to stop fighting and share the remote to stay on the NICE list! My handwriting is so small that only the boys can read it, cause Jeez, I am a small dude! So Merry Christmas from the Melang House and take a good look around your home – one of my friends may be hiding there and you haven’t found them yet!

Give Thanks - a fable

A man walked down a lonely country road, upset at his lot in life, damning himself and those around him. He was in a sad state, lonely, broke and sick. He stumbled along thinking; if I just keep moving eventually I’ll fall down and disappear into the earth, back to the dust from which I came. He shoes were old, with more holes than leather, the dust of the road coating them in a light brown sheen. His pants once were pressed and clean, the result of a trip to the dry cleaner a long time ago but hadn’t seen the inside of a washing machine in some time, the pockets had holes in them it didn’t matter because he had nothing to put in them. He wore an old button down shirt with a sweater against the cold, each belonging to someone else and found for free. To him, it didn’t matter how he looked, there was no one on the road anyway, he could be walking naked for all he cared, and he had nowhere to go. He was playing the blame game in his mind, blaming everything and everyone as he shuffled along. People didn’t help him enough; he’d be farther along if someone would help him. Why is life so hard for him when everyone else had it so easy? He should have more, he deserved more why did everything work against him to take everything he had? What he didn’t realize was that much was happening on that road, what he was missing. As he shuffled along, he didn’t see the red bird sitting in the tree staring at him, a beautiful song sitting on her lips waiting for the right moment to start. When she did start, he was too far along to hear, the only sound he heard was his feet crunching in the dirt. He passed a family of deer sitting still in the trees, the brown of their coat helping them to blend in. Miraculously they went through the morning in the path of hunters but for some reason were never seen, the two small fawns nuzzling at some grass peeking through bits of snow on the ground. They stayed close to their mother, quiet as he walked by. The most amazing part of his journey was right there under his feet. As he walked along he passed a beautiful stone that sparkled in the sunlight, he actually kicked it with his shoe, should have felt the stone through the hole in the front of his shoe but he was so wrapped up in himself that he missed it as he flung to the side of the road to a stop in the grass next to a small clump of snow. The gem was special, it was beautiful, full of color, full of sparkle waiting to be found. The material value of the gem would have set the man in the apartment he was dreaming about, bought him new clean clothes even his favorite pair of shoes, but like all the opportunities in his life he didn’t see what was right in front of him and let it pass him by. He didn’t see that God gave him great blessings, that by focusing on what he could not have he didn’t see what he already had and what was offered to him. He went along that road being selfish, thinking of himself and not letting anyone else in. If he’d stopped and gave thanks, he’d seen that gem, picked it up and call himself a lucky man. If he’d stop and give thanks for his life, he’d see the gem inside of himself and realize that he already was a lucky man. The sun was beginning to set as he continued down that road, the deer ran into the woods settling in a bed of leaves for warmth, the bird flying up to her nest and settling for the night with a sigh. The man walked on, while the gem sat unnoticed until the next lucky man walked by. What gem sits on your road? Are you thankful for the journey?

Technically I'm not available....

There are so many outlets no on the computer and internet to socialize with others, I love staying in touch with friends and family using these outlets, but they are beginning to erode my confidence. It starts with my Yahoo Mail Account. I log in and the first thing it asks me is my chat status….

Are you…..

The options are Available, Busy or Invisible. I stare at all three. I could choose to say that I am Available, but I’ve been married close to 25 years so technically I’m NOT available. I could choose busy, because aint that the truth, I’ve got 1 husband, 2 small boys and 1 dog so yeah, I’m pretty busy. But right now I should choose invisible because I feel pretty invisible every time I ask someone to pickup their clothes off the floor, or close the cabinet doors or put the roll of toilet paper ON THE TOILET PAPER ROLL! Choosing invisible means my friends can’t chat with me, so I choose to say I’m available, saying to my wonderful husband, “Technically I’m not available in that way, I’m just available.”

Then I go over to Facebook and it tells me that I don’t have enough friends, “I have plenty of friends, I think.” If asks me to help some of my friends make friends and a few I do feel sorry for them, gee, they don’t have any friends so it’s my duty to help them find friends. Then I wonder, is it asking MY friends to help me FIND FRIENDS? Do I really have enough friends? At least Facebook Chat asks the simple question, are you Online or Offline……it does let me choose a relationship status. I once choose Its Complicated prompting my dear husband to come and ask, “What’s so complicated? ”

So in Yahoo, I’m Available but not in that way, I’ve got plenty of friends in Facebook to feel that I’m a pretty cool person, and as always I’m ready to chat. Don’t worry, I don’t think any less of you when Facebook tells me YOU don’t have ENOUGH friends, I’ll help you out. Are you available today?

Snake Wrangling Melang Style!

I don't like snakes, one of the bad things about having boys - one of which who loves snakes. So when I find the 6 foot snake all I can think about is KILLING the snake and removing it from the garage - thinking pitch fork, scythe, or machette style.

Then I pull into the garage and find a small black snake caught in a glue trap sitting in the middle and my first thought is to just throw it into the trash and let my fantasy come real. My son, however has another idea,
"Mom, we have to save it." He states looking at the snake.
"Save it? Why?" I'm getting the willys watching it move.
"Because it is God's creature..." He states.....dang, how can I argue with that.

He runs and disappears into the house and comes out with my dish gloves on, "How are we going to get him off the glue?"

I go back inside and thanks to quick typing fingers come up with a plan. Did you know that cooking on the snake will make it slippery enough to get off a clue trap?

We're out there with olive oil (poor snake) and gloves and I explain to Max that he has to hold the snakes head down while I try to open the trap. Each time the snake moves I squeal and jump up and down a few times trying to quell the heeby jeebys. "Why are you jumping up and down?"

"It's the only way to keep myself from running into the house and sitting in the corner sucking my thumb," I reply.

So we get the trap open, and the snake takes a swipe at me when Max lets go, Wolf shakes his head, "Not touching it, I'm going inside."

The snake lies there, it's mouth open at us......yeah, I'm a snake......I know you are trying to help me, but I must try to bite you......yeah, I'm a snake.....that's what I do.....

Fiften minutes later, several jumps, 26 squeals we have successfully freed the snake from the trap. He lays there exhausted next to the glue trap, we stand there looking at him exhausted too, but he is free.

"We did it...' Max Smiles....OK, I tell myself, it was worth it.

We watch him slither away and Max quietly says, "You know I think the snake skin we found in the garage was MUCH bigger than that....."

Oh dang, I'm screwed! Did you know you could use cooking oil to get a snake off a glue trap??

Who's in Charge here?

Most that know me, know that I cannot find my way out of a paper bag….so the invention of the GPS was a very welcome addition to my travels, saving me a lot of time so I thought. I went to visit my sister in St. Michaels and was trying to get back to Baltimore so I plugged in Baltimore and let the GPS do its magic to find me there.
I’m driving, and driving then start wondering when I’ve moved from major roads to very minor roads, my GPS still confident that it will get me where I am going.
“This isn’t the way I used to get there?” I talk to the air.
“Turn right on Ma N Pa Drive and follow for 8 tenths of a mile,” the GPS replies.
“But this is a gravel road,” I say as I kick up dust from the rental car.
“Turn right on RedNeck Lane then make an immediate left into Hatfield Family Lane,” the GPS replies confidently.
I take all these back roads wondering if I am going the right way, when I come out of the woods and right up to a dead end and WATER! “Take the Oxford Ferry,” my GPS states.
“What?” I look at a very old man standing at a small boat waving to me looking like, “well come on?”
“Take the Oxford Ferry,” the GPS says again.
“This isn’t the right way,” I whine to no one, the man still waving me on. Finally he gets frustrated and walks up to me. “Are you taking the Ferry?” He asks, I can almost feel the GPS saying, “That’s what I TOLD HER to do.”
“I’m trying to get to Baltimore,” I reply looking at the boat.
“What?” He looks at me like I’m crazy.
“Will this take me to Baltimore?” I ask.
“I don’t know…..” He replies looking at the car that just pulled up behind me, she’s looking more confident that me.
“My GPS said it would,” I hold up the GPS screen it is confident in its route pointing the way.
He looks at it, “Looks like it will, there’s someone waiting behind you, are you taking the ferry?”
“Can I turn around?” Looking at the wooden bridge to the ferry, pretty tight looks like I am pretty committed.
“Take the Oxford Ferry,” the GPS repeats, I almost catch myself saying, “Shaddup!”
“Ummm, not really, you’re in the lane to take the ferry, and someone’s waiting….” The captain of the boat is looking out his window like, “What in the hell is going on?”
“Take the Oxford Ferry,” the GPS repeats itself, I’m waiting for it to add “you idiot” to the line.

So I take the oxford ferry (11 dollars later) then follow the GPS through a beautiful small town along a bunch of other roads and back onto my highway and into more familiar territory. It was a surprise but fun byway, probably picked by the GPS because it knew I needed to slow down and enjoy the sights. Or I made a wrong turn and the GPs thought, “Oh she wants to take the scenic route……” Either way sometimes life can throw in a detour, rather than getting upset go with it and enjoy the ride!

105 heat and OCD not a good combination at Carowinds!

I decided that I really needed some new torture in my life, so I woke this kids invited a nephew and said, "Let's go to Carowinds!" You may think it's torture to head to a amusement park with 3 boys ALONE, but the torture was the 105 heat index melting the tires off the car as we pulled into the parking lot at 10am!

$56 dollars just to get in? I looked at the receipt wondering if there were tiffany necklaces for us Moms that brave the park alone and pay that amount of money to try very hard to throw up as much as possible.

Carowinds was covering their bases, announcing over the loudspeakers that "We at Carowinds want you to know that in this heat, there is free water through out the park. Remember to hydrate and early and often." The free water was a dixie cup with a few drops in it so Put down a mortgage payment and bought the huge refillable tankards of soda! Easy to carry with ice that melts within `15 minutes this was the cheapest option when dealing with heat, boys and soda.

Dressing for the heat allowed many to exit all semblence of decorum. Many men wore muscle shirts that stretched tight against very soft NON MUSCLED chests, women in bathing suit tops and tank tops they really shouldn't be wearing but on a hot summer day like today, we all got the pass. We forgot that a moo moo was unfashionable, that your boobs can slip out of a bathing suit top that's too small for you on a roller coaster than takes you up side down, we all just wanted to have fun!

I don't think I've ever sweated so much in my life. I was sweating looking at the roller coasters my son was dragging me on, sweating as I pulled out my wallet thinking that a stop at the plasma donar on the way home would cover the snack, sweating hiding in the shade while waiting for kids to come out of the bathroom.
My OCD personality hit high gear as my sweaty body would hit the vinyl seats of the ride and stick to them. As my hands stuck to the railings of the roller coaster ride and I tried not to think about the scary looking person who exited the ride before I took their seat.

The kids wondered why I spent so much time in the bathroom, it was to wash my hands! Plus I found the one and only air conditioned bathroom and told them to go ride a few rides while I took a nap on the toilet.

So there ya have it, Carowinds by the numbers: 11 roller coasters ridden, 4 gallons of liquid consumed, 3 gallons of said liquid including caffinated soda, 2 bottles of hand santizer used, 1 empty wallet at the end of the day.

Would I do it all again? You betcha! What do you think of sweaty bodies at amusement parks?

Why I ride.....

I was excited about the Grizzly 40 miler, a ride through the High Country of North Carolina. Excited and very nervous as I do not participate much in bike rides, due to lack of experience, this time I had the experienced buddy (Keith) and another novice (Maria) to get me to the starting line and off.

We stood with over 100 people, very discreetly moving out way to the back, knowing that there was no time expected and going out with the super fast pack was out of the question. Picked a bad day to wear my Rock the Blue Ridge jersey, Maria in her Beech to Battleship biking jersey looking like we knew what we were doing but we didn’t. We had several triathlons under our belt and I two rides to boot, that was it.

Pacing ourselves for the ride, we were slowly making our way up that first major hill, when the police car went by, followed by the ambulance and then another police car. Dread in any athletes heart during a ride/race when emergency vehicles travel past, knowing that it’s someone that stood at that starting line with you full of dreams, hurt and not able to reach their goal.

When we came upon the accident, the upset of both the volunteers and police man had us both pausing, this is different, there is something seriously wrong. When told that we could not pass, that we had to wait because of an accident, I felt dread, when the third person comes and says there’s been a death, all I felt was panic. I pictured all those riders at the front, laughing and talking with each other, I pictured my friend turning back to me and saying, “Come on up ladies, let’s get going!”

There’s nothing worse than standing and being held back-helpless, knowing that people that you know were ahead, and were possibly part of the accident. I’ve seen it all during marathons, people passed out by the side of the road, seizures, ambulances; I’ve seen cyclists with broken necks by the side of the road. When someone is injured, you know there is hope. Knowing that there was a death makes this worse, because your mind already jumps to the worse conclusion, was I the one that talked him into riding this ride? The picture that jumps to your mind (before you can control it and block it) of that smile and “Come on Ladies, stop hiding there in the back?” After the dread, comes the panic then comes the determination. I almost felt sorry for the volunteers as those of us waiting start berating with questions, “Is it a he or a she? How old is he? Can you tell us what color jersey he was wearing? What type of bike did he have?” The poor volunteer knew our panic but also knew due to safety rules she could not tell us anything. We just sit and wait.

After what felt like hours, a volunteer comes and tells us, “The road is closed, you’ll have to turn back. But the person in the accident is not married.” The quick feeling of relief is followed by a feeling of guilt, I am glad that my friend is safe, should I be glad when someone else's son, brother, friend was there? We turn back, losing the feeling of the ride and pedal back to the cars, leery of the traffic, leery of the bike, leery of the race.

Tomorrow, I go out to ride. I go because it’s what I love to do, and I will not let this stop me. I may be a little slower, I may be a little more careful so maybe this accident was God’s way of telling a few of us, “be a little more responsible” but I will go out and ride. I feel this was fate, that this was his time, and not my friend’s time, that a few seconds earlier or maybe even a few seconds’ later things would be different. When you ride, there could be a dog, a squirrel, a patch of sand, gravel or it could boil down to the muscle twitch, you just never know.

Obsessing about the person, haunted by the wonder of what they could have done differently, trying not to picture the accident, the ambulances....trying to move it out of my mind. Trying to not let that accident mar a simple hike as my mind jumps to someone falling and I feel that fear all over again. Trying to put away the feeling of wanting to hang up the bike because it's dangerous-hell, anything can be dangerous, just ask the post rattlesnake boys.

Could I go down a hill with turns fast tomorrow, probably not-but I will go out there and ride, doing what I heard he loved to do, doing what I love to do. I’ll take the feelings of fear, helplessness, and panic and put it in a pretty little box with a beautiful bicycle on the side, close the lid and put it away to a special place in the back part of the my heart and my mind. Shut the lid on that box, clip in on my bike and pedal.

Why does this always happen to me?

The boys and I decided on an early morning hike, trying to get some fun in before the weather turned for the day. We decided to hit a little known trail, Lost Cove as something different, I read about cliffs and through this would be a spectacular view. It was a cool morning, hiking through large hedges of mountain laurel, no one else on the trail but us. I was able to leave the boys and relax because the sound of their arguing followed me on the mountain as I went in search of the cliff.

At the end of the out and back, I found the cliffs and they were as beautiful as I expected, we walked out on a rock and stood there peering over at Grandfather Mountain, amazed at God’s artistry. I took a few pictures, and wanted to take one for the magazine, so the boys started to move as I put my pen to paper and prepared to take a picture.

The silence was pierced by the sound of a rattlesnake along with the screaming of boys! I never expected a rattler to sound so large and so ominous in the still morning air! It is a sound I will never forget! A sound that really does make your blood run cold! My one son was scaling the rock, screaming trying to get to me, and on instinct I grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him over my back onto the ground behind me, the other screaming and running by the side. We ran back to the trail then just stood there wondering, “did that just happen!”

All three of us were pale, looking like we’d seen a ghost, the youngest in a mild case of shock. His face was white, his lips almost a slight tone of green but his eyes looked scary! His pupils were so dilated we said that he looked like alien boy with black eyes! We took a deep breath there for a minute before all saying at once, “let’s get the heck out of here!” The youngest held tight to my hand as we walked, the oldest non stop talking, like he was getting all the fear out of his system through his mouth. When he tried to point out the obvious, I tried to make him shut up.

“Mom, it was this big!” The snake went from the size of a dinner plate to the size of a boa constrictor, my youngest grip on my hand deathlike as Wolfgang started describing the fangs and rings on the snake. When I told him he was scaring his brother, he stated, “But he was right there between the two us, I mean right by the side of my head!” We’d gone from seeing him under a rock, to dodging the fangs of the snake in a true Tarzan fashion. Max didn’t say a thing, just walking faster, his eyes darting down on the trail. The situation gets worse, when the oldest points to a scrape on my youngest’s leg and says, “Is that a snake bite?” Now, Max looks like he’s ready to swoon processing the information that he could ACTUALLY have a snake bite on his leg. I stop them both and start with the oldest, “Will you PLEASE stop talking about the snake, and it is NOT a snakebite!”
“But it looks like two holes,” he says looking at Max’s leg, Max looks almost green now.

“Believe me, Max, if you’d gotten bitten by a snake – YOU’D KNOW. And Wolfgang, you mention the snake again and I’m going to bite you myself!” Both boys are now quiet as Wolfgang ponders what it would feel like for his mother to bite him and would it hurt more than a snake bite and do Mom’s have poison while Max just keeps looking at his leg, praying that it’s not a snake bite.

Wolf decides to change the subject in a MUCH MORE PLEASANT way, “Doesn’t it feel eerie in these woods, almost scary. Is that thunder I hear?” I’m waiting at this point for the youngest to just pass out and I’ll have to carry him the mile back to the car. We walk a little further, he looks back, “What? Did you hear that?” With a sign, I just keep walking.

Max stops, “I dropped the waterbottle.”
Wolf and I look at him, “Max, who cares. I’m not going back to get it,” I reply.
“Isn’t that littering?”
“Saving your life or worrying about a waterbottle, I’d choose saving your life,” I say and Max smiles.
The oldest stops and thinks for a second, “What if it was your phone?”
I ponder, would I let a snake keep my phone? “I could always get another phone, and snakes don’t make phone calls.”

This moves them to the age old game, what’s important enough to endure a snake bite, “What if it was a million dollars left by the snake, what a bout a trillion dollars, what if it was your Forsyth Woman pen?” I finally get the subject changed when I reply, “For the million bucks, I’d throw you at the snake, grab the money and you and then take you directly to the hospital.” They spend time on the walk back wondering if I’d really throw them at a snake.

Thunder. The youngest hates thunder. We’re sprinting back to the car as huge raindrops start to fall, didn’t make it dry but everyone is safe and sound in the car. Max spends the ride home tending to his scrapes with about 6 Bandaids, while Wolfgang talks about how big the snake was (we’re into pre historic sizes now and he was wrestling the snake as it tried to bite him.) \

I know things are going to be OK when I hear, “Mom, he won’t let me play his iTouch.”

The poor crab....

Poor crab, moseying along on top of the female crab (if you know what I mean) when down comes this big green net and he's plucked out of the water!

Three kids, and one dog stare at him...his pinchers go up because he's pissed! Interrupted and now sitting in a small trash can with two other little crabs looking at him like, "Yeah, got us too...doesn't this suck?" He'll get his revenge, just wait....

The dogs sniffs the can, the kids think of him as a pet, "We'll name him Ocean, right?" "Or should be call him Blue?" Adults know that if they look the other way, he'll be called "dinner." The crab waits.....

"See this one? It's a crab...." The finger comes a little close and he waits patiently for his chance.....wait for it, wait for it.....

OUCH! He's flung up and out of the trash can back to the deck, and scurries with a plunk into the water. The kids look at one very red finger, "Oh well, he wanted to get back to his wife anyway."

Love it when they think the crabs have to be married to mate (doing my job, I guess) and he gets away as the youngest learns the lesson, don't poke any body part around angry blue crabs with pinchers!

He scurries around in the water, not noticing the green net sneaking up on him!!

How to have a happy birthday!

I thought I’d spread the love and impart some of my birthday wisdom because you all of us 21 year olds think we KNOW everything!

1. Go ahead and lick the end of the charger cord. I watched my son look at the end of my computer charging cord, think for a second, then decide to lick it. Hmmmmm, I guess I’ll try anything once, quite a few I’ll never do again, but I can atleast SAY I did it.

2. I look much better with clothes on. Working twice as hard to maintain what I got is fun, but sighing and simply accepting the call from National Geographic for their Amazon women photo shoot rather than fighting it. Walking around naked though does have it’s own freeing ability!

3. As long as they don’t see you eat it, it doesn’t have any calories. I’m not really sure what happened to all that birthday cake. Gotta go for a run.

4. Body glide and KY – we all need a little help sometimes, don’t be afraid to ask for it. Like both, you’ll be really happy you did!

5. Be a good example – be honest, open and trustworthy – except for the secret stash of weed, I mean chocolate!

6. Just keep moving! Be one with it! Headwind? 90 degree heat? 100% humidity? -14 degrees, don’t focus on the negative and be surprised at how pleasant a task becomes!

7. Dance after you’ve had a few drinks – you look so much better in your own mind! The same is true with Karaoke.

8. It aint about you anyway. When you take the focus off yourself and onto others, the fun REALLY begins!

9. Love hard – you never know how long you got!

10. Not liking the course? Then change direction! Change is good, it keeps things fresh, just ask my butt and elbows after two months of learning how to snowboard! Learning something new=PRICELESS!!

Time flies whether you are having fun or not, so make the most of what you got. Fine tune the machine and enjoy what you have – makes those Facebook pictures and youTube videos that much better!

Where did my smartphone find the word, "Cunni...."

My best friend and I are two pretty well educated broads, we’ve been hanging out together so long we can almost read each other’s mind. This comes in very handy when our smart phones decide to dumb us down a little bit. It started with the conversation about where to have dinner. There’s a great feature on phones where you can talk into the speaker and it will write the text for you. This is wonderful when you are trying to finish a text and the light turns green and some jerk behind you don’t have the patience and is blaring his horn! Doesn’t he realize we’re not supposed to text and drive. Back to this wonderful feature. So, we’re thinking of some place to eat…..

“Where are you thinking about eating?” Is what I tell the speaker to type.

Free panties is what pops up on the screen. After the second try, it types what I want it to type. (how did it come up with free panties from that? Did it know that the dog has eaten all but two pairs of my underwear?)

She replies, “I’m not sure what are you in the mood for?”

“I want seafood but don’t know where it’s fresh,” is what I want to say.

I win seafood I don’t know if there’s 1 thing. I’m fresh. Is what the phone comes up with, why yes I am feeling fresh when all that’s left if my sock drawer is two pairs of thongs (darn dog!)

She replies, we could try the Full Moon or we could go downtown. “It’s been a while since I’ve gone to the Full Moon.”

It’s been a while since I’ve been to the phone,” my phone thinks that I simply obsess about it all the time, I guess.

I’m thinking that seafood sounds good, now I want to convince her to come downtown. “When was the last time you had seafood?” I say into my phone.

Tiny cc comes out. What the heck? I try again. Secret my phone spits out. I wonder if there is someone down at Verizon that sits typing up these text messages laughing as he send crap on a creek for come pick me up.

There’s a rash of people thinking that everyone’s an alcoholic out there every 5 seconds from the text messages that fly across “smart” phones these days. There’s two great features, this speak to text that seems to really like the word “cunniligus” for almost everything you say into the speak. Why that word? Why can’t it be “cantelope” I still think there’s a pervert over there at Verizon intercepting what we speak in there and replying with “free panties” or “scope the dork.” Then there’s the SWIPE feature, that’s supposed to make it easy for you to swipe your fingers across the phone and it will make the word for you. Here’s a nice example of a text I received using the swipe feature, “Jen said she would take nous nut they would have mote fun ay home til they go” and “Places ate center that weekend. Hsu maybe you and Jeff could meet us and stay on boat Sunday noghy.”

Luckily for us, we can pretty much read each other’s minds (there is a rumor around town about the two women with three kids seen together all the time) and without the air of the speak to text feature on our phones, we’re able to schedule a lunch together at the seafood place downtown. It only took both of us pulling over by the side of the road somewhere to get our fingers out and let them do the walking. Or it’s a conspiracy theory to get us to finally hit the call button on our phones and actually talk to each other like human beings! What do you think?

The Gods Must Be Crazy

It was a day when I knew the Gods were not smiling down upon me. I wanted to go for a short bike run, get the kinks out of the legs, make sure the bike likes Ocean City burn off the Lobster Stuffed Mushrooms from the night before. I should have known better when this morning when I went for my biking shorts and found a surprise instead. My sweet little puppy decided that she didn’t want me biking so she ate the padding from inside my expensive Pearl Izumi bicycle pants. She sat there innocently looking at me, “Why do you want to go out there anyway?”
So I decided to see if I could salvage the pants and try them out on my ride. But the Gods were not done with me yet. Moving into the halfway mark and getting ready to cross a bridge, the bike felt funny, that’s when I noticed the flat. Curse you Gods! I thought as I stopped by the side of the road next to a busy highway. I’d been to Clemmons Bicycle for the tire changing class, I had a pouch that was supposed to contain all the pieces, so this was my first attempt at changing a flat tire. I prayed to the gods for help.

Opening the kit, I spilled the contents on the roadside. Hmmm, 20 dollars where did that come from? My sweet husband stashing that in there for my rainy day? I could call a cab? I thought of waiting that hour after a ride for him to pick me up and silently cursed not knowing of the bucks in there. I take off my bicycle helmet and reach for my McGyver Hat (if anyone does not know who McGuyver is, go and read your history books – specifically ancient totally lame TV shows) In front of me sat all the pieces to change a tire. Briefly I thought, I could lay the bike sideways and with those CO2 cannisters and one match and two pieces of wire turn it into a rocket ship and blast myself back home. But out of the fantasy and into the present. I had to start by getting the tire off the rim, luckily there’s tools for that job and after one broken fingernail and several curse words, the tire was off and inner tube thrown to the side. When I put the new on one, I stood there for a minute thinking, this is bigger than the rim, did I buy the wrong innertube? (all my cyclist friends can laugh at this point and send a nice big DUH my way) After contemplating the inner tube, I pulled out my phone thinking about calling a cab. Damn, no service. Wait I can send text messages, let me update my Facebook status because I’m sure everyone cares about where I am!)

Back to the tire, my thought process was that I was going to live with the inner tube I have, hoping that inflating it will make it stay in the tire long enough to get me back 10 miles. I put the tub on the rim, put the tire around the tube then come to the CO2 cannisters used to fill it with air. I have two and as I fool with the hookup I hear a PFFFFT and SSSSSSS and curse the gods again as the air in the canister did not go in the tire but floated up to the heavens as an offering to them. Looking at the second canister, I am reminded of McGuyver again – trying to make his smoke alarm battery defribulator work with two pieces of braces wire and a piece of aluminum foil. “We don’t have enough Power Robert, we’ll have to give it one more shot and hope that it works) I screw in the canister and with a silent prayer (I am sorry for cursing you, what I really meant to say was I love you. Can you make this canister work?) I hit the button on the inflator and smile as I hear the air go into the tires. The tire feels good, I’m stoked that I was able to do this myself and just to play with me some more, the clouds open up and theres a sprinkle of rain as I start my ride back.

A guy n a beach bike rides up behind me and says, “Sweet ride.” If I were 20 years young I’d think he was looking at my ass (which is sweet) but being the athlete I knew he meant my bike. Maybe that was the sign that the gods wanted me to ride. I come home to the dog chewing on my brand new running shoes, could this be a sign?

Hey Dads - RELAX! It's Father's Day!

What makes a great dad? That’s a hard question to answer, it differs completely person to person. Just like Mother’s Day we honestly don’t need a holiday to remind us how great our parents are, what they do for us on a daily basis is reminder enough. My advice to Dads this weekend? RELAX!

Dads, you don’t have to be perfect – that’s what Moms are for – they help clean up the mess, really? (just kidding) Best memory of my Dad? That he wasn’t perfect and there are many stories to prove that! I can see him standing in the garage holding a hair dryer to a frozen pipe because forgot to leave the heat on and his teenage daughter had a date planned and couldn’t take a shower (talk about drama), I remember long drives to Florida with my father wearing the same pair of shorts, my sisters yelling, “Dad’s getting up, hold your nose!” There were a few times we were dancing outside at a beach bar and heaven knows (really, heaven does know) that NEITHER of us are perfect, but after a pina colada we felt we could bust a move. There’s the man standing at the door when my date came to pick me up – not saying a word the entire time. The beached whale trying to body surf the waves in Ocean City, the Umpire getting death threats from parents at our softball games, to the handyman that thought he really could paint the inside of toilets. A screw to hang a picture, fishing line to a screw in the ceiling to keep the Christmas Tree up, Dad wasn’t perfect but always was thinking of a Plan B.

Everything we did was NEVER perfect or EVER went according to plan, so rather than worry about what was going wrong – we simply laughed it off and moved on with Plan B. He was roasting some meat on the charcoal grill, my Mom said, “Buddy, you think that’s done?” I remember watching him open the lid to the grill, a big fireball flying up into the sky with a little black brick in the middle of the grill. He looked at the brick, shut the lid and said, “Maybe just a few more minutes.” Guess what? We ate watermelon, corn on the cob, potato salad for dinner – probably the only time my father ever went vegetarian. Best part of dinner, laughing and coming up with some very interesting culinary names for the meat – “le Brick de Noir” or “Teeth Crusher” or “BOB-Black Overcooked Brick.”
By learning how to RELAX, my Dad was comfortable in his own skin. By admitting mistakes, moving on and forward, he was the person people enjoyed hanging out with – no pretense, a little burned food, many good stories! He wasn’t perfect but he was exactly what I needed growing up – someone to remind me to relax, and enjoy the moment!

So Dads – RELAX, enjoy the moment because that’s the most important part of Father’s Day, being with your family and creating those funny stories of tomorrow. Any good stories of your Dad’s imperfections?

Are you tubby or chubby or simply Jonah the whale?

There’s no better way to get to know a city than running a race through it. Want to do it cheaply, then simply plan a run along a route that travels the city. Today I ran through the streets of Ocean City and got to know the city in a whole new light. This city really appreciates the types of people visiting their fair city, it’s pretty evident in all the local businesses.

Are you hungry? Then they’ve got the goods for you! You can eat at some very nice all you can eat places called, Belly Busters, Chubbys, Tubbys, and Jonah the Whale. “Hey Earle, let’s do an all you can eat tonight, what’s the right one? I’m hungry. Chubby’s, now that’s the name of a place that will serve us well.” Of course if you are more part of the exclusive crowd, you can go with the ones that are code named, like the restaurant called, PGN – personally, I think this is code for “piggin” and they won’t let me in to find out. Just one glimpse of the clientele and I could find out if this is the “PGN” type. Not only will they fill your belly with all kinds of ribs, mac and cheese, and burgers for the “exclusive” conneusour, there’s the House of Chipped Beef with a wonderful sign on the front offers, “All you can eat chipped beef.” There was a line outside of the restaurant this morning, must be pretty good chipped beef.

If you’re not into the all you can eat, personally I don’t think I get my money’s worth on that one, you can then go to the fine dining establishments I passed on my way this morning. You can always stop at Hooters, which had a nice sign on the front that said, Special today – Fish Sandwiches, or you can go what I think is the more creatively named restaurant – Big Peckers. Get your mind out of the gutter, this is a chicken establishment – not choking but fried or grilled, whatever your choice. Who’s going to venture a guess at how many T-shirts they sell out of that restaurant. Finally there’s the wonderful Brass Ball Saloon, with another very apprapoe sign on their board, “We have crabs.” Would you need Brass Balls if you had crabs, that is the question you can answer with a visit to this restaurant.

If you are thinking of dieting, the clothing stores in Ocean City make you feel much better about your body. There’s the Coconuts Salon, selling just bathing suits to fit those just ripened to been on the tree way to long coconuts. If you don’t have the perfect body, you can always stop at 2 Dye 4 which has that great T-shirt of the perfect body to cover up what you got! Or you could always simply wear the Big Peckers T-shirt and call it a day.

If you get into trouble in Ocean City, there’s ABBA Bail Bonds for those that got carried away from the karaoke machine. The Anchor Bail Bonds for those trying to get out of town, and the 24/7 bail bonds for those that can’t see to tell the difference between night and day. Get into trouble with a middle aged man with a shotgun? You can always stop at Fidelity Bank and take out a loan to pay off the debt to her family or society.

Either way, there’s plenty for everyone here in Ocean City, we’re lucky it’s named appropriately because how would you know where to go? Any good business names you’ve seen in your travels?

Summer salt, sun and surprises!

It's morning and of course there’s only two people actually up and moving this early – me and the dog! After what felt like an eternity driving yesterday, it was nice to finally hit the beach. The Northern beaches that is. Ocean City reminds me of my grandmother, stuck a little back in time, showing a little worse for the wear but something you still love to come back to. It’s so much more crowded than the beaches of North Carolina we visit, and so much colder! Sure, the condo smells a little like feet, and I feel the urge to immediately go out to get pillows and Febreez, it's still a place I love.

The dog gave me that, “You’ve got to be kidding me” look when I was up at the crack of the dog and hauling her down to the “dog walk.” This is the only grassy area of the condominiums where a dog can relieve themselves and not get an electric shock from the building’s landscaper – just kidding. The dog walk is a fenced in square of brown grass with a very smelly trash can to the side of it. She is mad that I woke her then the look of joy at the Encyclopedia Britannica of dog smells in the area as she reads her doggy morning paper. I take her to the beach and she’s jumping because of the sand, then hiding between my feet at the roaring sound of the ocean. What a new and exciting experience for the puppy.

Me? I’m thinking, I signed up to swim in the ocean on Sunday so I decide to touch my toe to the water. Holy SHIT! This is freezing, haven’t we had a heat wave? The dog is next to me and touches the water then walks back to roll in the sand with a “you’re nuts, there’s no way I’m swimming in that.” She takes one lick and spits it out.

First day of summer vacation and it’s about being a kid again, walking around the complex remembering when I spent summers here, laughing about that weekly “falling in love” at the beach, only to say our “goodbyes” when the tourists had to leave on the Saturday morning. It’s about ocean sunrises from the back porch and bay sunsets from the front porch. It’s about my boys spending 5 dollars on the “claw” to try and win me the Ipod in there and coming back with just a (5 dollar) piece of candy. It’s about the first words out of their mouth not, “Wow look at the ocean” or “Thanks Mom for driving us here” but “When can we go to Candy Kitchen.” Ocean City, with Thrasher’s French Fries, Candy Kitchen, Dolle’s Popcorn and crabs by the bushel. Right now I’m not going to think about it being me SIGNING UP to freeze my ass off this weekend in a fitness challenge while my boys watch and laugh.

They’re sleeping, dreaming about spending a mortgage payment on the Claw while I plot and plan the day. Think I can keep them out of Candy Kitchen until past lunchtime?

Dollars to Sand Dollars!

Horray, Hoorah, we’ll start the day,
Without the stress of the school bus our way.
We’ll trade in that stinky lunch box,
To barefeet or shoes that don’t require socks.
The pencils they’ll sit tucked away,
As we’ll talk about ocean spray.
No more lunch money, we’ll holler.
Time for spending a few sand dollars.
Not backpacks but fishing poles in our hands.
No more playground just some soft warm sand.
Our Mom? A nice long sigh.
As to 1st and 4th grade we wave good bye.
A beautiful sunny day our feet hit the floor,
“Mom? Mom? Mom? We're bored."

Sausage casing or short and sassy, that is the question!

I’m not sure what I detest more – dress shopping or bathing suit shopping
A special occasion looms over my head like the albatross that followed me home on my last run in 90 degree heat. I put it off as long as I possibly could, telling myself I didn’t need to buy a dress, I could just wear something that I already had, when plans changed and I HAD to buy a dress, i started the pilgrimage to the mecca of finding something that actually fit, that I liked, and wasn’t that expensive. Oh, dress fairy take me away!

I figure if I’m looking for a dress, then the best place to head is the mall – another thing I haven’t done in over 3 years. I’m amazed at how different it looks, where did all these young girls come from – shouldn’t they be in school. I’m looking for pink, so as I travel the different stores I encounter all types of tiny girls looking at the same dresses I’m looking at.

“Man, the smallest size they have here is a 1---that’s not going to work,” little girl smacking her gum says to her friend busy texting someone else.
“OK Ginger, try on the 1 sometimes things are cut small,” texter replies back. bitch is all I can think.

I look at the 4 in my hand and go back to try it on, when it feels like a sausage casing on my skin, I leave everything there in the dressing room and leave. The next store, the clerk takes one look at me and doesn’t even bother to come and see if she can help me. I leave before I find out if it’s either the money issues, or all the dresses are really too young or they only carry the pencil sizes! At another store, the clerk tries to steer me to a Moo Moo looking caftans that would make me look like a big pink balloon – no, thank you very much.

I wonder if I’ve moved out of the cute dress to the smart dress – have I become JCPenny? Do they have real sizes where a 4 really feels like a 4? I travel to another place that carries a lot of pink and am amazed that when the sales person asks what I want, she says, “oh, you’re a size 0 here.” It’s all in the perception, isn’t it? I puff up in pride, the last time I was a 0 was probably high school, I could shop here all the time saying, “Oh, the smallest size they have is a 2,” while some other women looks at me with a frown. I know EXACTLY what she's thinking.

Then I wonder, how short the skirt? What’s appropriate – of course my butt hanging out is out, but should I go knee, or mid-thigh or as most doctors like to say “at my age” should I go DOWN? I want be fun so I pull a few that are all different lengths and sizes because it’s obvious size doesn’t matter when it comes to dresses. The sausage casings last a few seconds on, the one’s I’m hanging out of hit the floor, the ones I can’t even get up are tossed on the bench. I find one that I like, “hey this looks pretty good,” but the 200 price tag has that put VERY CAREFULLY back on the hanger. There’s even one I can’t understand which strap goes where until I’m tied up in a knot it in praying I don’t have to call the salesperson for a pair of scissors

After several attempts at liking ones that too expensive I settle on two REASONABLY priced dresses, I need another opinion. I take a picture of each one and text my husband asking which he liked, he is the one stuck looking at it. After sending the messages, I realize I’ve done what Rep Weiner has done, become a wiener sending pictures of myself over the internet, albeit that I did have clothes on. When there’s no response, I figure I’ll go with the one I like, just short enough to make me feel sassy but grown up enough to not make me look like a tramp. I walk out the door vowing to go on a diet and never have to shop for a dress again. Maybe I can hire a personal shopper put a pillow around her middle and let her go and try on the dresses for me.

My internet pictures don’t come to haunt me, my dress sits in the closet when I realize that I have another problem. What shoes am I going to wear with it?

A Mother's Morning!

Mother's are up early not to get the house together but to enjoy that 15 minutes of quiet with a HOT cup of coffee before the day begins. This morning was no different, except that I didn't get that 15 minutes.

My boys are lucky I love them, the dog, well, that's she's cute. I come downstairs to a nice pile of poo with the dog following me. She passes it like it's nothing simply looking back at me like, "lady it stinks in here, can you clean that up?"

The boys who are supposed to be sleeping are up early and explain that we need to leave the door open to let the fresh air in and give Shawnee a place to go. So the door goes open as they discuss things like, "should mommy make french toast? eggs? bacon?" I'm thinking captain crunch or pop tarts.

All hell breaks loose when a bird flies in through the open door, all while the illustrious dog is sitting there standing guard. i go to get a broom, the boys start screaming, "don't kill the bird!" Honestly, like i'd kill a bird. "IT'S POOPED! LOOK! IT'S POOPED!" I'm thinking now about killing the bird. It doesn't help that the dog is jumping on me barking, probably trying to save the bird too, (it understands when you gotta go you gotta go)while i'm trying to coax it back out the door.

Once the bird is safely outside again, and the door shut, I'm counting the minutes to the bus. (what! 45 minutes? It's only....) My youngest decides that he's taking a live moth to school, they are learning about moths, right? We chase a few moths (the door was open for a while) and get one in a cup. The oldest informs the youngest that he's touched the moth, therefore the moth cannot fly, so he's KILLED a moth. The drama of the bird is moved to the drama of how he could save the moth, what he could possibly do, why oh why did he kill the moth followed by, "But can i still take it to school?"

After French Toast and brushed teeth, and arguments on what to put in the lunch box, "No, honey Fruit Rollups, and nerds do not constitute lunch, let's add a few carrots and maybe a Pediasure?" They are waiting for the bus. The bus driver asks what's in the cup as the youngest boards, looks at me with with my hair standing on end (no live animals on the bus) and says, "Give it to me, I'll hold it until we get to school."

Wow, coffee's burnt, workout already in, and two kids off to school. What will I do when school's out?

Bubble Girl

It usually ends with the shit hitting the fan.

Many of my friends already know, many will find out eventually, some may never know but I’m the bubble girl. I’ve got this bubble around my mind that doesn’t process any information remotely looking like drama. John Travolta in the Bubble Boy could not let any type of disease into his world, I’ve decided that I cannot allow any type of drama. Most times it works out very well except for the usual cases.

Take Jena and Eilieen, two good friends both friends of mine whose names have been changed to protect the innocent. They got into a fight the other day because Eilieen overheard from Sara that Jena thought Eileen was “full of herself.” What exactly does “full of herself” mean? Beats me, but it sure did make Eileen mad, so she goes and starts getting her revenge, she starts saying that it’s obvious that Jena got some botox, and that Jena won’t admit it. Here’s where it’s advantageous to be Bubble Girl. I never heard that Eileen was “full of herself” and I’m not even sure what that means. If they told me how much they hated each other it was probably over margaritas where my mind was blissfully into, “gee, this tastes good---oh, why are they yelling at each other? Oh well, lookee here there’s another one.” Someone tries to pull me into the mess with the botox statement. What is botox and how can you tell if someone’s botoxing, is that even a word? I see both ladies on a regular basis, unaware that a feud the size of the Hatfield and McCoys is going on, not noticing that my friends are either at “Jenaville” or deciding to stay with “Eileenville” – I’m in the bubble and the bubble is Switzerland. They start pushing each other over who started the whole thing and who’s going to order the next Long Island Iced Tea. My other friend, Betty who enjoys being right in the thick of things plays Oprah for a little while until both women with tears in their eyes, hug and tell each other that they love each other. My wonderful friends then say, “We’re sorry to drag you into this.” I simply nod, not sure what they are talking about but ready to accept that wonderful makeup Margarita they’ve ordered.

I can be at a concert, totally unaware that someone next to me is trying to sell illegal drugs to everyone including me. My bubble sees a very nice man that is talking with me about the concert, what? What is that? Oh, I’m watching the concert, no I’m not interested in brownies – don’t you know they make you fat? Have you met this really nice man on my other side? He said that he’d like to get past me and take a good look at those brownies. My friends say, “Why didn’t you move away as the cop was arresting the guy?” I’m bubble girl, “What? Why would he be arresting him? You can’t sell food at a concert?”

Another concert not staying in my bubble got me in trouble. There I am, just like everyone else, enjoying the Hammond B3 organ and mandolin when my girlfriend says, “Did you notice that girl checking you out?” “Me? Why?” I look over and as if she’d gotten some type of clue she’s at my side, talking about the concert. What a nice girl, she’s explaining all about the different instruments, pointing out the lighting. My friends come with a sigh and steer me in a totally different direction, leaving my new friend looking awfully mad. Back to the bubble.

Which brings me back to my apologies to my friends, I am the bubble girl. It takes candid conversation with me if you want to get your point across. I don’t do nuances, I don’t do half truths, and I definitely don’t do drama. There’s no waiting for me to catch onto something because odds are that I never will catch, my mind is so far into the clouds that it will take a nuclear fallout for me to stop and think, “gee is something wrong?”

The good news is that there isn’t any family drama, because I’m unaware of any drama going on. There isn’t fights between friends because I’m not aware I’ve pissed someone off, they usually stew about it waiting for some type of rise out of me and when they don’t get it they soon forget about it and move on their own merry way. There’s no watercooler talk because I don’t work in an office, maybe a little Facebook chat talk but it’s about nothing and usually there isn’t anyone involved.

My bubble is full of sunshine, and unrotten fruit, dresses that still fit, and eyes that don’t need glasses. It constantly plays upbeat, jazzy music, and smells like honeysuckle – because you know what, if you step outside of it and let your mind focus on gossip, bad news or feelings then things like that can take you over. So, I for one will stay in my bubble, listen when the listening is good and stay out of the way of drama. How about you?

The beauty of a new day.....

The beginning of summer to me is like the feeling of falling in love. There’s so much excitement in the air, counting down to when the days stretch ahead without THE SCHEDULE, to when the bathing suit of the morning becomes the clothing of the day, to waking in the cool stillness of the morning, checking the watch then rolling back over, whispering something before falling back to sleep again.

Sitting, wrapped in a blanket listening to music on the porch, hot cup of coffee in my hand, I love the feeling of each new day. It’s almost like that feeling when waiting for a lover to rise, the anticipation of what you’re going to say, wondering what lays ahead, excited to get the show started. Each day gives me this wonderful feeling of anticipation along with the feeling of peace, of being exactly where I should be. Listening to the stirrings in the house, thinking, “Finally….we can get started.” Let the peace and beauty of the morning go as the bustle of the day starts.

This feeling like those others that come and bring happiness are sampled, savored, then tucked away as the day begins – tucked away for that time when stress or insecurity come and you need to find that peace. Pull out that memory, take that feeling and flow – flow back into the arms of joy and let it fill you with peace.

We only got two days, what will you do?

Did you know that the Rapture is coming in two days?

There’s a billboard on Highway 52 stating that the Rapture is coming on May 21st, given it any notice? Does that billboard make you think, even on a small level- what if it is true? How does that make you feel?

What if you are that person that feels the need to do something quickly? “Earle, I’m going to drain the bank account, let’s go and see how much we have left before the Earth ends, we’ll go and splurge….” Earle continues to guess the answers to Jeapordy without phrasing it in the form of a question until Tina comes back, “Never mind, we’ll just go over to breakfast at IHOP again, I hear it’s buy one get one free.”

Stanley is driving past that billboard with his buddy on the way to work and casually says, “Well, that’s one thing that FINALLY will not make the price of a gallon of gas go up.”

Margaret finds the drive to do something good, “I’ve only got two days left to spread goodwill towards men, did I spread enough good will towards men? Do you think I treated my neighbor as myself, let me get my bible back out and read it again to make sure I understand it correctly. Honey, I’m out the door to spend the night at the mission, I’d better take advantage of this time and get some brownie points in.”

Steven is sitting at the bar watching the Sports Channel with his buddies, “Man I knew something was going on when the Football players and owners didn’t cut a deal.”

Jeremy taps his beautiful wife on the shoulder at 2am that night with a very raunchy suggestion in her ear. “What? Are you crazy?” She asks, mad that he woke her up but glad because the dream included Arnold Schwarzenager. She swats his hand and rolls away from him. He lays back and stares at the ceiling, “But the world is ending in two days.”

Finally all the children are doing what they should be doing knowing that the world is ending in 2 days – nothing, living their lives. Adopting God’s principles as a life mission all your life rather than when there’s only two days left is the best way to approach these days – with the love and faith of knowing that there’s paradise awaiting. What will you do with your last two days?

Gettysburg, PA - Attitude Adjustment

Race Report – Gettysburg PA


Amazing what an attitude adjustment can do on race day. Gettysburg was supposed to be my mecca, I’d trained, I’d put in the 22 mile runs, I tapered (as best I could), I’d gone up without any distractions, I’d carbo-loaded, I was ready and excited about the race. Since it was an out and back course, racers got a nice preview of the return, I started out on pace and ready to rock. The race billed itself as only a 379 foot elevation gain with rolling hills, and as I ran out I mentally checked to redefine “rolling hills” and that it didn’t say that elevation gain 5 times! This course was one I would LOVE riding a bike on, as cramps started on the way back I knew the time I’d planned was chucked out the window. By Mile 18 my whole body felt like a nice big cramp, even the middle toe of both feet was cramped out in a “F” you to the road – it made me smile to think of this.

I could get mad and be disappointed at the time I knew I was wasting, or I could simply accept it for what it was, a bucket list race. A group of us formed, walking then running, encouraging each other to walk and then run, laughing as we picked obscure part of the body cramping (I think my eyelids just cramped) and enjoyed the scenery we didn’t get to see on the way out trying to hit a specific time. We had a lot of fun with all the roadkill on the road, commented on who resembled each poor animal, everyone laughing at the raccoon with a GU sitting on top on his bottom.

These types of race make you see what you are worth to just get to the finish line, when you’re feeling bad way to early in the race but determined not to give up and do what it takes to get to the finish line. Squelching that overwhelming desire to just stop by the side of the road and look like the roadkill rather than climbing the next hill.

As a bucket list race, this was pretty cool – it was like getting lost and rather than getting mad simply enjoying the scenery – looking at the battlefields as we passed them, the flowers blooming in the fields laughing as I limp because my toe is giving the road the finger again. Would I do it again? Maybe, if that year there were two courses and the South resembled our road here in North Carolina, judging from what I drove that probably won’t happen any time soon.

Can't believe it's been 7 years!

7 years ago I woke up and thought, "WOW today is 04/04/04 what a great day to have a baby!"  And two weeks prior to his due date, Maximum Paul Melang came into this world with a bang!

Jeff and I had a long standing agreement, he'd name the boys and I'd name the girls - obviously I got the short end of the stick.  Jeff named him Maximum because after the second child, he was done - at the maximum limit - that was it.  So rather than Maximus (would think of butts, where do my children get this) or Maxim, he's Maximum and he is the most.

Children teach you humility, they teach you to forget about yourself and live for helping others.  They astound you with their innocent questions, their wise observations and the truth they tell you about yourself.  They teach you how precious life is when they get in trouble, how joyful life is when they achieve something they thought they couldn't do.

Children teach you to laugh again with one liners that put comedians to shame (without a single curse word) they teach you patience when you come upon a wrecked room right after you cleaned it, you learn with them to be a responsible adult, to love and respect each other, and to love yourself.

So my Maximum, nicknamed "the burrito" has given me WAY TOO MANY grey hairs and he's only 7 years old, but I wouldn't change a thing 7 years ago.....it was a great day to have a baby and a birthday I'll never forget!

Trying to do the unthinkable!

This morning, I'm scheming, coniving, working my tail off, trying hard-----to be cheap!  You see, in my year's I've become cynical in "deals."  I've tried the get the free bottle of champage for looking at our seaside property and walked out after writing a down payment on a condo (luckily, I stopped payment on the check after i drank the bottle of champage AND that was a long time ago when I was young and naive) this time I'm holding the coupon in my hand thinking hmmmmm.....

Kids get in free to the circus and it's buy one, get one free for adult tickets.  What a deal!  My champage experienced minds stops immediately and says, "What a minute, how do they make any money?"  I go and start trying to get my BOGO adult tickets and figure one way.  The computer won't let me get the GO ticket (get one) it keeps telling me that I owe it 36 dollars for two tickets.  I politely inform it that it doesn't understand BOGO but with what is the equivalent of a finger back, it tells me to just shut up and put my credit card number in and just buy it.  Now I'm picturing kids standing behind a parent crying about the circus and can see said parent getting to the,"screw it, it's only 36 dollar" phase and just buying the tickets.

The computer also then displays some very nice Circus T-shirts and Cups and crap and I find another way they'll make money.  I sit my boys down and prepare them,
"Do you want to go to the circus today?"

"YEAH!"  One is now dancing around the house.
"If we go, there's no buying stuff, no souveniers, nothing."
"What?"  little one stops dancing, "No swirling lights?"
"No"
"No elephant head snow cone cup?"
"No"
"No cotton candy?"
"well....."
They both dance that they are going to the circus.

So here we go, trying to get something for nothing.  I'm going to buy my tickets there and bringing my coupons for free kids tickets, if I can keep them on bread and water rations at the coliseum then maybe we can do the impossible........

Seeking Journey Athletes!

Do you obsess? Do you pour over information? No, this is not a late night infomercial, but something I have recently decided to quit doing. Why? Because obsessing and races do not go hand in hand when getting older! I remember my coach saying to us gym rats (yes, you can be old and be a gym rat) “You’ll not be as fast as you were when you were younger!” And I thought, “What? When did that happen?”

I finished a race with some friends recently and went back to the times, pouring over everyone’s splits and finishing times, then I went and complained to my husband, “Man, they really did well. I can’t believe they beat me.” He sipped his coffee and looked at me and simply said, “Well, they are 15 years younger than you. Give yourself a break.”

Hmmm, maybe that is a point. As I started to go back to the times, I tried to think about why type of athlete I am, not armchair, not elite, then what am I? I think about all the races I’ve done (never add up what you’ve spent on races and cheerfully tell the other half who doesn’t race) and find that now as I approach that starting line, I’m there for the experience, there for enjoying being fit and showing it off when I can finish a race, there because others talked me into it (believe me, there were a few times I WASN’T happy someone talked me into a race) there because I want to do it to prove to myself that I can do it, not to anyone else.

What type of athlete are you? Do you pour over times wondering where you could shave off a few minutes? Do you obsess about the length of your workouts (yes, I am guilty of that but being a businessperson and Mom and wife means I’ve got to carve the time and sometimes it may not be the time I want) Or are you a journey athlete, enjoying the journey and getting to the point of “doing well” and “being competitive” without freaking out about it?

OK, so my OCD came back again and I had to go back to the numbers one more time. This time rather than looking at my friends times compared to mine (I mean, they are, afterall, 15 years younger than me) I went to my place in history – where I land in my age group (old farts) and 75th in a race that’s got over 6K people wasn’t that damn bad. Going to lace up the shoes.

Wait for me! A race report from Virginia Beach....

Remember when you were a child, with your friends and there was that younger sibling running after you as fast as their little legs could carry you yelling, "Wait for me!"  As a child what did you do, I know what I did....

This weekend I got to spend with my sister as a "girl's weekend" we've moved out of those weekends of doing nothing and drinking beer to this weekend of adding in a half marathon to make something of it.  So this morning we got up to windy weather in our Shamrock Half Marathon in Virginia Beach. 

I'm a competitive person, but at 45 know that most of my competitiveness is left to the cerebal activities but I was working out with a friend  and I remember saying, "I'd like to be compeitive in this race, I mean I am training for a marathon."  I wasn't really saying I'd leave someone behind, OK, I was saying I'd leave someone behind but when the gun sounded and we followed out waves out I was just as exited as my sister competing her second half marathon!

We ran a familiar route talking along the way, me surprised at her great pace wondering if she can keep it up the entire way.  I mean she came up for the weekend saying, "I am SO not ready for this...."  (quick memory trip back to a time when I said this)  We carry along talking about people we are passing, wondering if we should wear tututs the next time (we were already talking about the next time) trying to look under kilts , pacing with two wounded warrior men that ran the race with gas masks on!  (sure, we wondered at the beginning of the race if there was something we didn't know but after 10 miles we finally couldn't stand it and asked them why there were running with gas masks)  We came to the last five miles and she said, "my legs are cramping" so I told her to high knee for a while (thanks yoga) and turned the last mile and ran the boardwalk together crossing the finish line at the same time, (OK, I was SLIGHTLY ahead of her).

When we came to to the last mile I turned to her and thought, I should improve my time but was pleasantly surprised at a 2 hour half marathon and the smile on her face at cutting 15 minutes from her time was joy enough to finish together!  I told her the race time and celebrated all those times I hit a PR with her as she celebrated this milestone (it was a PR for me because it was the first half marathon I'd run in 5 years!)  As a big sister, I remember all those times I left when hearing, "Wait for me" and now watching her take a nap with a smile on her ace was worth it, and that extra 5 minutes I could have bought for myself so not worth it when it comes to actually WINNING a race.

So here's to all the sisters out there, or friends that realize winning the race is about enjoying the journey and being there for the people you love.  Why did we run this race?  Some will say it's because of the free beer at the end (we got our money's worth) but I'll say it's the free time I got to spend with my sister!  Now, of course if it was a 5K that probably would be a DIFFERENT story!  What's your story of sibling rivalry and the real world!