Fun and Flirty

As always, I am grateful for our amazing and extremely talented Relay Team. Not to mention, our loyal and helpful crowd. Our event raised just over $3000, to benefit the Cancer Centers of America. This week, I am again reminded of the crucial role, the centers play in my life.
Our team members are always happily willing and able to accept donations.
Thanks again... And see you next year!

Music in Movies:

While last year's 'dance number' continues to be dear to my heart.... I knew I would never get everyone to agree to another sweet and fully synchronized production. I dreamed up the idea of each team member choosing a musical scene from a movie and reinterpreting that scene to the best of their ability (or desired level). This was the result:




I really wish we had filmed the 'back stage' scene... because while everyone was a willing volunteer... the moments directly leading up to the number were filled with: Last second nervous peeing, hatred spewed in my direction for 'Making people do these stupid things', several declarations about tasting nervous puke in their mouths, shouts that they had completely forgotten every step of their dance and fears that their legs were unable to move. And let's not mention the Risky Business costume change... Ever. Please.
End Result: I totally and completely,
Love these people.
Hating on Cancer never looked so good.

The Posed and The Pretty

Masquerade Ball Recap Part One:













Tomorrow: The Fun and The Flirty

Planning, Planning, Planning..

Tomorrow is our Hollywood Masquerade Ball.
And things are frantic!!!

Last minute details are playing out.
Decorating and practicing our uhhh.. 'skit'.

Tickets are selling and selling...
It's really happening!

To those who have attended past dances:
We sincerely appreciate your attendance and donations to our Relay for Life Team. Your continued support benefits a very worthy cause, which is extremely close to my heart.

To those attending our Dance this year:
May you laugh, drink, dance and be seriously merry... may we not disappoint in showing you an amazing night! Oh... and remember to 'clap' for Warhol.

PS- Tickets are also for sale, at the door.
Really... Please Come to our Dance!

Jumbo Joe

It officially happened, I've have been an Aunt long enough to become emotional about a nephew's birthday. I can remember you as an itty bitty boy. The cutest ring bearer eva for Commish and Jackie's wedding. Tiny round face, with little H. Potter glasses, so darned cute they were practical a prop purchased for the wedding day.
And then...
you were this bigger boy. Sweet, quiet, sorta silly. Lovin your momma and super All The Time smiley. With your crazy early, self-imposed bedtimes and your complete ban of all clothing items not labeled Redbird Rowdies?? Worn like a second skin.
The Kid used to look up at you, like this:

(actually, he still does...)

And then BLINK!!
You turned into a teenager. High school royalty. My children and I followed you around like my van was your personal Fan Bus. Track meets, parades, football games, Homecoming dances (ummmm... again, sorry about that) basketball games...etc.



And now: You are 16. Yuck. Dislike Button.
Listen, if your mother wants to let you become an adult, man your own vehicle, totally grow up... that is her business. But I'm not gonna be happy about it. Cute little round boy faces turning into chiseled handsome man faces...? Not gonna hear this Aunt say anything nice about that! No sir.
I'm not gonna tell you that you're shaping into a pretty cool guy. The type of guy that can weave and dodge life's curve balls with a sly crooked smile, surprisingly sturdy spine and carefree ease.
I'm totally not gonna mention, you have maintained your sweet friendly innocence, as you venture further up and out on the open road.
Nor will I write about the huggable loving momma's boy, who continues to Heart his mother, while nurturing a keen protective instinct.
I certainly would never whisper to Flag Girl: You've done a fine job, of raising that little ring bearer into a kind and polite mini-man. Nope, I would never.
Just remember, you are never too big, for me to save you from a blizzard. My bathroom and chip cabinet... are always yours. (Unless The Kid turns into a teenager.. but I'm stronger and meaner than Flag Girl, I'm never gonna let that happen.)

Happy 16th!
We sure like you, in this house.
You're like the son, I've always wanted. Cool, athletic, kind, cute, sweet... and I never have to yell or make you clean your room!

Sunday Funday

The most amusing thing on the Internet right now, is the series of pics posted to The Twins Mamas facebook page. I have copied only a handful of pictures from her series and it was the highlite of my Sunday.
Apparently, the twins parents have recently purchased new 'big boy beds' to encourage the boys to sleep separately. Now... each nap time/bedtime has become a game of Where Will End Up Next?
And... I'm totally diggin it.
First, a pic of the bedroom (post twin tornado):



Followed by an Abbreviated Series:













Why is that basket on him??!!

Lovin every minute.
No fair..! I want cute and amusing twins!
Coach never gives me anything fun.

PS- No one tell The Twins Mama, she could probably start her own blog with these pictures. Stealing her material, is helping keep this blog afloat!!

And closing out the week...

Previously, the best text message I had received, was authored by Munchkin. Her crown has been passed. (without her written consent, of course) Recently, The Commissioner and I were texting back and forth about signing up for the Warrior Dash again. I actually saved the texts. This is a snippet of that convo:

Me: How many races are you signing up for?

Commish: 3

Me: I figured more before your big crazy race (the Extreme Death Defying Electro-Iron-Man March or named something equally as stupid) Coach is confused we are wasting good money to do this again.

Commish: He's dumb. I'm gonna look like a marine before the end of the summer. Try not to fall in love.

Me: That is now the best text I have ever read.

Commish: I was thinking that when I typed it.

Happy Birthday Commish!
I hope this year brings you Marine-like skills, Michele Obama's arms and Jillian Michaels' stomach. If not... keep your funny. It suits you.

Here Comes My Girl

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TRU STORIES!!!



I really tried to think of a clever or interesting way to write this birthday post. Last year, I obviously stole Tru Stories ideas, trying to copy her style of writing because I definitely do not have my own style. I was thinking about using only Beatles lyrics to describe her. I also thought about using lyrics of a song that always makes me think about her. While lyrics can be clever, which Tru Stories does very well, I couldn't describe her like that. This year I am going to let you know about the girl, I know in my own words.

When I first met Tru Stories, I wouldn't say I was headed in the right direction. Not saying I was headed in the wrong one, it was more like an angle instead of a straight line. Some might say that I was here to save her but that is the total opposite, Tru Stories and The Kid swooped in and swept me off my feet.

Some of the reasons why Tru Stories is my one.

-She has great taste in music. Yes, obviously Madonna and The Beatles but her range is almost endless. She can go from Snoop, Eminem, East Coast, West Coast, new music, classic rock. I did say 'almost' but country music is sort of a long stretch (sorry country fans).

-She knows sports. I realize she grew up in a sport background family, but she really knows what she is talking about. Sometimes we talk back and forth about sport topics for a while, afterwards I think, how lucky was I to find her, I can not believe she is not totally bored with this.

-She is a beer drinker. Nothing against girls that don't drink beer, it is just easier for me. It seems simple to me, I like simple. I also like the way she drinks her beer. I get it, it sounds weird but there is something about it that is hard to explain.

-She is a great writer. When I read her blogs, it is almost like I am there in the story. Wait a minute, a lot of the time I am. She makes it seem so easy and effortless to do, I am on my tenth hour right now.

-She loves our kids. I also love our children with everything I have but she finds things to love about them I would never think of. Different expressions on their faces or how they pronounce a word, things I might not notice without her. And not because I was also not pronouncing the word correctly.

Fine, maybe just one song to take up some space.

You know, sometimes, I don't know why,
But this old town just seems so hopeless
I ain't really sure,
but it seems I remember the good times
Were just a little bit more in focus

But when she puts her arms around me,
I can, somehow, rise above it
Yeah man,
when I got that girl standing right by my side,
You know,
I can tell the whole wide world, and shout it,

Hey, here comes my girl,
here comes my girl,
Yeah, she looks so right,
she's all I need tonight

Just for the record, it's still stupid and always will be.

HOLLA, Coach

Who is excited for Tomorrow??!

Tomorrow, Coach will repeat his Guest Blogging Performance, for my Birthday. Let me remind the blog community:

* Coach has afforded himself a lifestyle, which requires him to write an email once each month. That email is rarely more than 6 words long. Those 6 words, are typically not capitalized or correctly punctuated.

* He does not have a Facebook page, an Ipod or Iphone, he is oblivious to where the photos are stored on our computer and it took 13 months for him to Comment on my blog.

* In our Self-written Wedding Vows,
His Opening Line:
"Tru Stories, I love you so much... It's Stupid."
(That is unaltered.)

* If I sent Coach a Text Message which read:
Can you run to the store, Tink is demanding more chocolate milk! I think Coco just ate dog hair. I am about to give both girls a bath. BTW- The Kid got an awesome report card!

His reply would read: K
or maybe if he has extra free time: Holla

* Typing and letter forming skills aside...
Coach is deeply emotional To.The.Extreme.
For example,
If I were to ask him to "Tell me Something Nice".

His Reply may be:
"Ummmm... Let me think.....
ummm... ok... just give me a second,
I'm thinking!!!! Ok...wait...
Uhhh... Dinner was good tonight. I like potatoes.
And.... you have hair? That's brown?"
It's like living with a Hallmark Card.

* Last, his actual Comment on his sister's birthday blog, just yesterday?? "Happy Bithday."

* But he is fairly creative and he has MAD throw-down comeback skillz. On Monday evening...

Tink: But I don wanna share wif my sista!

Coach: You HAVE too. You need to be nice to her.

Tink: I can't. She is jus little! I won't share cuz I am bigger than her!!

Coach: You have too, because I am bigger than you!

Tink (sigh and then total attitude): Well... (sassy Tink face) the whole Earthf is bigger than all of us...!!

Coach (immediately taken out of the game, because he had to run to the other room to giggle.)

I ask again... who's excited for tomorrow?!

Three Plus Nine = Twelve.

Ok... we get it, Flag Girl is pretty.
Dang, there's like break-off blogs across the nation dedicated to Flag Girl. If I posted about her weekly, I'd probably have followers in the hundreds. Puke. Enough already, it's not like she's a Homecoming Queen!
I'm sooo over her cuteness.



Honestly, I actually sorta dig her edge.
The secret edge, reserved for friends. (Yes, sure... she is cute even when edgy) but the sarcasm, the wit, the occasional sassy mood?? Now that's the real Tru Story. During the last 12 months in the life of this Girl? She chiseled herself an edge, alright.
"Na, na, na, na, na, na, na
Na, na, na, na, na, na"

* She proved herself to be a Warrior. Muddy, mean, competitive and determined. Scratching her way over and through big dumb obstacles, pushing down barriers, crawling and digging herself out of the mud and towards the finish line. Leaving many intent on beating her will, far behind. Oh... and she competed in The Warrior Race in June, too. Wink.

"I gotta brand new attitude
and I'm gonna wear it tonight"

* Flag Girl opened herself to new adventures. Conquering fears, boarding planes and strolling down the romantic and historic streets of New Orleans. A city rebuilt and stronger than ever after a storm nearly destroyed their beauty. She smiled, laughed and danced... "I got my rock moves and I don't..."

* She totally Crashed a Wedding. Just waltzed right in, sashayed up to their photo booth and flirted her way through the most adorable pictures Eva. Confident, a real badmothawatchyomouf! She ain't scared.
"And guess what, I'm havin' more fun"

In the last 12 months, she has blossomed in the light of love, rallied within a giant cloud of family love, furnished a home with a beautiful eye for color and compassion. She tried new foods, attempted new sports, met new friends.
Most importantly...
Flag Girl has mothered her children with a fierce loyalty, gentle touch of the hand to the arm, unwavering understanding and devotion (which is nothing new) in addition, she has taught her boys that life and love are a challenge worth fighting for. What's the only thing better than a Homecoming Queen? A genuine Role-Model, with the strength and grace to inspire. And that: makes Flag Girl tru-ly beautiful.

Happy Birthday, Friend.
I wish you 12 more months.. 12 more years... plus many more... of inspired Joy and continued new beginnings. You have earned all of life's rewards.

"Na, na, na, na, na, na, na"

Aging Conditions may be Slippery.

This past weekend, I suffered a minor accident. My new van is not as snow friendly as one would hope. While driving VERY (seriously) slowly, I began to break as I approached a Stop. My wheels slid me directly into the back black iron bar across the bumper of a large semi. Almost immediately, the semi pulled out onto the road, totally oblivious to the accident.
The plastic-ish front of my van, easily shredded a perfect indention of the bar. No need to worry. We were not shaken in the least. I'm happy to report, no child repeated the swear word I muttered.
Though, I'm sure Coco has filed that nugget away for later use. Probably during Mass.



I was busy with blizzard like festivities, extra kids home from school... and it took a couple days to call in my claim. Now... the accident, the swear word, the damage to the van?? The worst part? Nope.
The worst, stomach dropping part of this story, took place during the 22 minute claim phone call.

I dial..
A very cheery, young sounding (probably pretty) girl answered my call. I patiently allowed her to do her bit (as I unfortunately suffer PTSD from two years lost in the cave of an insurance claim center.) She asked her typical questions, I appeared like a moron.
Her: Name of street the accident occurred?

Me: Ummmm, I don't know. The street by Fox?? Unless a Christmas Card friendly relative lives on a particular street, I have not actually learned road names and opt for descriptions like: You know, 1 block down from The Dairy Queen... or 2 houses down from where so-an-so's grandma lived...
Still NOT the worst part...



When describing the road conditions, I realized this young girl must have spent her life living in Arizona.
Her: Ohhh.. there was a big snow storm?? 6-8 inches?? Wow! Your van just slid right into a semi?? Wow, again!!
Me: Yep. It snowed across like 9 states. Yep, snow is crazy. Yep, tires slide on snow. I know, it sounds nuts.
16 minutes into phone call, not the worst part.



No, the worst part occurred shortly after.
Her: Ok... can I get your drivers license number. Ok.. date issued... ok... and can I get your birth date?

Me: One. Nineteen. Seventy-Seven

Her: Ohh!! You're gonna have a birthday this week!!

Me: Yep.

Her: Ohhh!! Wow! And it's a BIG one!

Me (take a cleansing breath moment, pretending not to envision my dry-scaly- winter living in the crazy-snow-land old lady arm into the phone to yank out her young, probably wearing a tank-top cheerful throat.):Yep. Sure is.

For a rude young lady, she sure can calculate numbers and dates quickly.



Anyway... Long story short,
only 4 more days until Coach repeats his famous guest blogger performance. The very mention of my birthday may cause young girls to shudder over the phone but Tru Stories followers world-wide... have patiently waited all year for Thursday.
Silver Bleepin Lining.

Forgive me Father, for I have...

Yesterday, I dropped The Kid and Lil Ditta at CCD. Coco lost her cool, as she is completely convinced she is 6 years old.

Coco (yelling, demanding, glaring at me, fist clenched... all while dressed in one of Tink's nightgowns, sweatpants and rain boots):
I wanna go to CeeCeeDee! Me go to CeeCeeDee like mine broda! I'ne big too! I wanna go to CeeCeeDeeeee! I rweally wanna go to CeeCeeDeee!

From the other side of the van.
Calmly gazing out of the window.
Elbow on armrest, chin on hand.
Completely monotoned, lacking any emotion.
Tink responds: Not. Me.

I actually giggled, to spite myself.
First: Kindergarten, next year should be interesting.
Second: Ok. I'll admit it...
Maybe Tink spends too much time with her mother.

Though let's get real, I gotta feeling Coco is gonna need the religion more than anyone. She'll grab a hold of that Catholic 'confess thy sins and you shall find forgiveness' with both hands....and run with it.
Quickly and probably with scissors.

Planning... Planning... Planning... and then more Planning...

With less than 3 weeks remaining until our Annual Relay for Life theme dance... my blog (and really the rest of my life) is taking a FAR backseat to my planning. Literally hours have been lost deep in the Internet abyss... researching music, film clips, Hollywood starlets and Oscar mania.
If not for the near constant little girl screaming (not to mention hair pulling, scratching and biting) over a tiny sista stealing big sista clothes.. toys... Punkins old nightgown (Oh no Coco didn't!! Not the green polka dot nightgown!) Like I said, if not for the brawling, I may not even realize my children were home. Thankfully, The Kid occasionally texts me from the other room... sooo we're still tight.
Planning... Planning... Planning.
I'm close to 'planning' a trip to a Malibu-esque Party Planning Rehab... because giwrlfriend... I am obsessive. And. I still haven't gone dress shopping.
Gasp.

Dear Hollywood Masquerade Ball-
You Own Me.
I only hope, I can do you justice.

Baby, It's NOT cold outside...

The past few days have been amazing!
We have happily walked around the yard, like it is April. (It is no secret, I detest winter.) I even got the opportunity to get outside and do a little yard work (Shock Alert: I removed the outdoor Christmas decorations BEFORE tulips have bloomed!!)
It may feel like Spring outdoors but Coco is not too eager to lose her Christmas spirit. She refused to remove her new second skin (Punkin's hand-me-down Black velvet Christmas gown).



Completing her outdoor ensemble with one of Tink's rainboots (paired with one of her own) and a total physical meltdown in regards to a quick brush of the hair. Real cute stuff, Coco. I can not believe, I never imagined a child could be more defiant and oddly dressed than Tink. I almost miss the outdoor pajamas.


One major difference,
Tink wore whatever she felt like, without a care or much notice to her parents disdain. But if you argue, encourage or comment on Coco's outfit selection... Like, with maybe too many pictures..



You're likely to tick a girl off.
That glare is scary advanced for a 2 yr old.

Stealing Material...

Yes, the blog is moving into the New Year, a little slow. While most families are tired and stressed, starting January... our family is tired, stressed, planning an awesome relay dance AND kicking off the tail end of a great basketball season.
Plus, our kids are sorta boring right now.
Cute but boring.
Therefore, I made an executive decision to post a picture of a friend's children, without even her verbal consent. Simply because, this picture is amazingly cute AND hilarious. Twin boys... and how they fell asleep.



Even more ironic??
Over Christmas break, Quincy and his little sista (whom was extremely nervous by the possibility of the Christmas Elf moving amongst her in the night) stayed over. Early morning, Coach found Quincy sleeping just a bit crooked on the sectional. Being a good Blog Husband, Coach snapped a picture:



Conclusion:
Little boys are funny.
One day, their wives may find sleeping with them, a little less amusing. I mean... seriously Coach... PUT YOUR jerking KNEE DOWN!! And stop arguing with our sheets all night!

It's January...

So you know what that means:



Our Annual Relay for Life Dance/Event.
Planning is officially in full swing!