Smile

Aside ~ ~ Vodka Calling ~ 2 Comments

If you know anything about me (which, lets face it, you don’t. This is a fairly new blog.) You know I am a huge NY GIANTS fan. Like HUGE. Like I will be loyal to my team till the day I die. Even last season when they sucked, I was loyal till the Super Bowl. Now, I live in Seattle. Seahawks went to the Super Bowl. So for just that one game I was a Seahawks fan. But just for that day. And, had it been a GIANTS and Seahawks Super Bowl, I would have went for my boys. Big Blue Baby!!

My love for the NY GIANTS came from my dad. He is also a huge fan. Growing up, watching him watch the GIANTS game on Sundays after church, well, it just stuck with me. Now, I am not about to give away my age (and if I did, it would most likely be a lie) but let us just say I have been a serious GIANTS fan for the past 19 years or so.

Now, imagine my surprise when in the mail today I received a shirt from my dad. The parents are downsizing, and he is sending me all his GIANTS memorabilia. Do you know what was written on this particular shirt? A message to my dad from LEONARD MARSHALL (he played for the GIANTS for about 10 seasons) I am all like “What the hell?!?! Is this real???” I texted my dad “IS THAT REALLY LEONARD MARSHALL’S AUTOGRAPH?? ADDRESSED TO YOU?????”

“Yes, glad you like it!”

Clearly I needed a further explanation. Like a how and a when did this happen??? So I texted my dad just that.

Well, apparently years ago my FATHER played golf with Leonard Marshall AND Phil Simms. (former quarterback for the GIANTS for fourteen years) and then WENT TO DINNER with them, for some work thing.

“They are the nicest guys, real down to earth”

“WHY AM I JUST NOW HEARING ABOUT THIS????”

“You were not a fan back then”

“Okay, but for the past NINETEEN YEARS I HAVE BEEN!”

So yeah.

If you are not a fan of football, you wont “get it” but if you are a fan, you will totally get why it was I had the biggest smile on my face when I saw the shirt, and found out that dad played golf with them and then went to dinner!

Wow, you really never stop learning about your parents. Always stories to be told.

I texted my dad to ask if I could post about it on Facebook.

He has yet to respond.

So I decided to blog about it instead.

* This post was inspired by Mama Kat’s Writers Workshop. “Something that made you smile”

Go check her out.

http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/

Misunderstood?

~ Vodka Calling ~ 6 Comments

My 13 yr old son got caught stealing at the mall.

The Husband and I just sat down to dinner. My cell phone rang. I actually debated whether I should answer it or not. Knowing my son was at the mall with his friends I figured I should. You know, in case of an emergency or anything.

“Hello, Jennifer?”

“Yes…”

“This is Officer Riley down at The Commons, I have your son here at Kohls. Him and his friends we caught stealing and we need someone to come pick him up.”

I really do not remember what I said other than “ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?!?!?!”

Officer Riley was not kidding.

The Husband leaves to go pick up our son, and I pour a double vodka. I mean clearly there has to be some reasonable explanation for this, right? Maybe they had the wrong kid? Yeah right, Officer Riley called my cell. Of course he did not have the wrong kid.

I spent the next half hour wondering where it was that I went wrong? How could my kid make such a stupid choice? I mean yes, he has made bad choices before. Like wearing red skinny jeans, but nothing like this. Why? It’s my fault. It has to be my fault, I am the mother. It is always the mothers fault.

Finally, they come home. The Husband is quiet. Which always means he is angry. My son decides to go straight to his room.

Oh heck no!!

“You better turn around and tell me everything, everything! Right now, I want an explanation.”

Do you want to know what he said to me? Oh, you will love it. “Gosh Mom, you just do not understand me. You think you understand me but you don’t”

Typical 13 yr old. They get caught doing something terribly wrong, and turn it around.

Whatever. This is not my first rodeo. Thanks to my 20 yr old son, I do have some kind of practice, although I have to admit stealing is a first for me.

After I calmed down, and by “calmed down” I mean another double vodka. We talked. All of us had a good talk. Did anything get resolved? Time will tell. Since the incident, which was only three weeks ago by the way, things have been better. He no longer has a phone, and he no longer has a life. School and home until he proves himself.

 

Bottom line, somewhere along the way the was some kind of misunderstanding going on.

Perhaps I misunderstood the pressure of being a 13 yr old boy?

Perhaps my son misunderstood  in no way shape or form will I put up with stealing.

Perhaps I misunderstood some signs along the way.

Or, perhaps we as a family misunderstood each other.

* This post was inspired by the one and only Mama Kat’s Writers Workshop.

http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/

 

Miss Ellie

~ Vodka Calling ~ 1 Comment

I met Miss Ellie about three years ago at my local grocery store. While debating in front of the coffee creamers “Should I get peppermint mocha or be good and get the sugar free vanilla?” Miss Ellie approached me out of no where.  “You want to know something?” Startled, I turned around, not quite sure knowing what to expect. There she was, the tiny elderly lady who I will quickly get to know as Miss Ellie.  She had on a straw hat. A rather large straw hat that covered her mostly  grey bob.  Blue overalls and a flannel shirt completed what I would call her “Farm Girl” look. I do not live in farm country. I live in a suburb of Seattle. So, this was strange.

I probably hesitated a little too long before I cautiously replied “Me?”
Miss Ellie grabbed my arm and some what guided me back to my cart which was maybe only two feet in front of me. “Look here, you see your pocketbook? Let me tell you a secret, you need to buckle it in with these here straps that you use to buckle up a little one.  Because any ole hoodlum can come and just snatch up your pocketbook and you would never know because you are looking at them coffee creamer. That stuff is bad for you anyway, drink your coffee black.”
For some reason I felt the need to apologize to Miss Ellie. “Yes mam, you make a very good point, buckle my purse in and black coffee, thank you for your advice.”
A pleased Miss Ellie say goodbye with a “Well, alright then, have a good day, and next time I see you in here, buckle up your pocketbook.”

Miss Ellie did have a point. I am so careless at times, I never pay attention to where may purse is. Makes mental not to buckle my purse in.

As time went on, I would see Miss Ellie once every two months or so for the next three years. She not only did her pocketbook  routine with me, but with every other female shopper who was alone in the store. It got to the point where every time I saw her coming, or shall I say every time I saw her straw hat coming, I would quickly try to buckle in my purse so she would not lecture me.
She still always lectured me.

I saw Miss Ellie today. Probably the first time in about five months. Today was slightly different. I had a return to do, so I headed straight towards the return desk. Miss Ellie had just finished up her purchase at the register, and as soon as she saw me, and I saw the straw hat, I knew there was no time to buckle in my purse. “Miss Ellie, I was just about to buckle my purse in when I saw you.”
Miss Ellie is no fool. “Let me tell you something, I have been around for a very long time, do not lie to me. You were as close to buckling your pocketbook in as I was to go buy me one of them skimpy swimsuits. Now buckle your pocket book while I watch.”

Damn, Miss Ellie is tough!

We chatted for a few minutes, and then she gave me some coupons she had no use for. Specifically V8 and adult diapers.
I had no use for them either, and was almost wondering if I should be insulted, and then Miss Ellie grabbed my arm. “Let me tell you something. Ya know I was in here the other day. I told some lady everything I have told you. Buckle your pocketbook in so no hoodlums will run off with it. You know what she told me? She told me “I do not need your advice” So I told her don’t come cry to me when a hoodlum steals your pocketbook. I know most people see me as a crazy old lady but I know how those hoodlums are. You go on and finish your shopping. You’re a good one. You always talk to me.”
And then she quickly scurried off, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief.

I do not know Miss Ellie’s story. I do not know if she has a family or if she is all alone. A cashier told me she believes Miss Ellie lives in an assisted living home, but who knows. What I do know about her is she is a very sweet lady. Tough, but sweet. So if any of you three people who may be reading this happen to come in contact with your own Miss Ellie, well, good luck to you.

*This blog post was part of mama Kat’s Writers Workshop.  A blog post inspired by the word “sweet”
http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/

Miss Ellie

~ Vodka Calling ~ 3 Comments

I met Miss Ellie about three years ago at my local grocery store. While debating in front of the coffee creamers “Should I get peppermint mocha or be good and get the sugar free vanilla?” Miss Ellie approached me out of no where.  “You want to know something?” Startled, I turned around, not quite sure knowing what to expect. There she was, the tiny elderly lady who I will quickly get to know as Miss Ellie.  She had on a straw hat. A rather large straw hat that covered her mostly  grey bob.  Blue overalls and a flannel shirt completed what I would call her “Farm Girl” look. I do not live in farm country. I live in a suburb of Seattle. So, this was strange.

I probably hesitated a little too long before I cautiously replied “Me?”

Miss Ellie grabbed my arm and some what guided me back to my cart which was maybe only two feet in front of me. “Look here, you see your pocketbook? Let me tell you a secret, you need to buckle it in with these here straps that you use to buckle up a little one.  Because any ole hoodlum can come and just snatch up your pocketbook and you would never know because you are looking at them coffee creamer. That stuff is bad for you anyway, drink your coffee black.”

For some reason I felt the need to apologize to Miss Ellie. “Yes mam, you make a very good point, buckle my purse in and black coffee, thank you for your advice.”

A pleased Miss Ellie say goodbye with a “Well, alright then, have a good day, and next time I see you in here, buckle up your pocketbook.”

Miss Ellie did have a point. I am so careless at times, I never pay attention to where may purse is. Makes mental not to buckle my purse in.

As time went on, I would see Miss Ellie once every two months or so for the next three years. She not only did her pocketbook  routine with me, but with every other female shopper who was alone in the store. It got to the point where every time I saw her coming, or shall I say every time I saw her straw hat coming, I would quickly try to buckle in my purse so she would not lecture me.

She still always lectured me.

I saw Miss Ellie today. Probably the first time in about five months. Today was slightly different. I had a return to do, so I headed straight towards the return desk. Miss Ellie had just finished up her purchase at the register, and as soon as she saw me, and I saw the straw hat, I knew there was no time to buckle in my purse. “Miss Ellie, I was just about to buckle my purse in when I saw you.”

Miss Ellie is no fool. “Let me tell you something, I have been around for a very long time, do not lie to me. You were as close to buckling your pocketbook in as I was to go buy me one of them skimpy swimsuits. Now buckle your pocket book while I watch.”

Damn, Miss Ellie is tough!

We chatted for a few minutes, and then she gave me some coupons she had no use for. Specifically V8 and adult diapers.

I had no use for them either, and was almost wondering if I should be insulted, and then Miss Ellie grabbed my arm. “Let me tell you something. Ya know I was in here the other day. I told some lady everything I have told you. Buckle your pocketbook in so no hoodlums will run off with it. You know what she told me? She told me “I do not need your advice” So I told her don’t come cry to me when a hoodlum steals your pocketbook. I know most people see me as a crazy old lady but I know how those hoodlums are. You go on and finish your shopping. You’re a good one. You always talk to me.”

And then she quickly scurried off, wiping her eyes with her handkerchief.

I do not know Miss Ellie’s story. I do not know if she has a family or if she is all alone. A cashier told me she believes Miss Ellie lives in an assisted living home, but who knows. What I do know about her is she is a very sweet lady. Tough, but sweet. So if any of you three people who may be reading this happen to come in contact with your own Miss Ellie, well, good luck to you.

 

*This blog post was part of mama Kat’s Writers Workshop.  A blog post inspired by the word “sweet”

http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Public Speaking

~ Vodka Calling ~ 5 Comments

When I was a little girl, up till my mid 20’s, I was shy. No just your typical “shy girl” shy, more like, ” Okay, what the heck is wrong with this girl who will not talk?”

It is not as if I had some kind of traumatic experience that stole my voice or anything. I was just wired that way. I was afraid to talk to anyone and everyone. The cashier at the grocery store, the mechanic, the faceless voice over the phone who would always call trying to sell me something. I was abnormally shy.

When I was about 15, my dad took me to a local high school where Montel Williams was speaking. A few important facts,

* I am not sure how my dads job and Montel Williams’  somehow incorporated and brought us together that brisk fall day at a high school that I did not even attend in Virginia Beach, VA…….but it did.

* My dad introduced me to Montel Williams, I stumbled out a “hello” shook his hand, begrudgingly, and that was it.

* Montel Williams was speaking about the dangers of drugs.

* My parents thought I was doing drugs.

* I was not doing drugs.

So now that you are up to speed, I will proceed.

During the assembly with our new friend Montel, there was a part in there where he called a few students up to the stage to ask us questions about drugs. I clearly remember his eyes on me as I am scooting down in my seat, pretending I dropped my purse begging and pleading with God for him to not call my name. I even promised  I will go to church for the rest of my life, I will marry a pastor just please do not call my name. 

He called my name.

Just shoot me now!

I slowly and awkwardly made my way to the stage, even though I was sitting in the front row. I gave my dad “the look.” Hoping that he would get a clue that the last thing I want to do right now is go on stage. My dad sat there with a big ole smile on his face that I interpreted one of two ways.

“Go on Jen, this will be fun.”

or

“Haha sucker, this is what you get for doing drugs.”

If you know my dad, he was most likely thinking the latter.

As soon as I get to the stage, Montel throws the microphone in my face and asks “What’s your name?”

I froze. And by froze I mean I stepped away from the microphone, looked down, made no eye contact and with the faintest of whispers, replied with “Jennifer.”

Montel sent me back to my seat, probably believing I was indeed on drugs.

I will say this, this experience drove me to wanting to do drugs. And, I really do not think anyone would have blamed me if I had done drugs, but I remained a good girl and never did drugs.

However, I did have my first kid at 19, so there’s that.

A few months after THE INCIDENT, my father wrote a play for the teens to do at church. To this day, I have no idea how this happened, but I was the lead, and, if I do say so myself, I totally rocked it. I loved being up on stage “acting.” I never felt more alive. I was also good at it, like seriously good at it.

Today, if the same incident were to happen, not only would I be able to go up to Montel, confidently taking the microphone, telling him my name and entire life story. He would be lucky if he got the mic back.

Funny how times change.

I never got into the acting thing, because I was doing the whole mom thing.

Now a days I am one of those people who holds up the line at the grocery store while chatting with the cashier. The car mechanics, I put them in their place real quick if I feel they are taking advantage of me, and the Montel Williams incident is long in the past,

but I never did watch his show,

nor will I.

 

* This post was inspired by Mama Kat’s Writers Workshop. Just click the link below if you want to join in.

http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/

~Jennifer

Boycotting Facebook on Holidays

~ Vodka Calling ~ 1 Comment

Yesterday was Mothers Day.

I decided that I can no longer do Facebook on any kind of holiday. I just can’t. Way too many things annoy me on Facebook. Clearly I cannot be the bigger person and not allow it get to me, so I just need to stay away.

I believe in my feed yesterday, I saw about 201 pictures from kids. (really, if you have seen one NUMBER 1 MOM picture you have seen them all)

I saw about 50 pictures of flowers from well meaning husbands.

I probably read about 30 “I have the best mom” Facebook status’.

Perhaps I just need new friends, but it all just seems like some big huge contest where everyone has to try out do the other. I do not like it and I do not like the way I feel when reading it. So……since I cannot change people, I am just going to stay off of Facebook on Valentines Day, Mothers Day, Fathers Day, and Christmas. Thanksgiving and Halloween are still up in the air.

I will most definitely be on Facebook for my birthday. I have my settings set up where my birthday is “hidden” from everyone. I will just be curious to see who actually remembers my birthday.

Yes, I have issues.

~Jennifer

What I really want for Mothers Day…

~ Vodka Calling ~ 4 Comments

Mothers Day is this weekend.

“sigh”

Why is it that it seems like I always do more work than usual on Mothers Day?

The kids will want to “fix me breakfast.” I do not eat breakfast. I have never been a breakfast person. You would think by now the kids would have picked up on this? Nope! So I will have to put on a happy face and pretend that I love my toast and peanut butter with a side of oddly shaped pancakes.

Also, you would think that after all these years the kids (AND MY HUSBAND) would know that I try hard to keep the carbs low. Nope!

As they are cooking me breakfast, I will hear….

“Mom, where is the bread?”

“Mom, where is the peanut butter?”

“Oh my gosh Mom, do we even have pancake stuff?”

“Hey Mom, real quick, don’t get up or anything, but how do you make pancakes?”

Usually at this point, I ask myself if 8 am is too early for a shot of vodka.

“Mom, why is there smoke coming from the toaster?”

“Mom, Gracie hit me.”

“Mom, Sofia hit me.”

“OKAY,THERE WILL BE NO HITTING FROM ANYONE, THIS IS MOTHERS DAY, CAN WE ALL TRY TO GET ALONG?!?!”

“It’s all your fault Sofia.”

Something usually happens where the breakfast never makes it to the plate. Last year the toast was burnt. The year before that, Vinnie somehow tripped on his own two feet as he was preparing the pancakes, and well, the cats had a good breakfast.

I cannot not wait to see what this year will bring.

Usually my only request for Mothers Day is for peace and quiet.

Yeah right, not in this house!

For one, my husband always seems to work on Mothers Day (I would not be surprised if he planned it that way) which means it is just I who is left to deal with the kids.

Forget about me camping out on the sofa and doing nothing all day. I will most likely be cleaning up burnt toast and pancake batter that made its way to the kitchen floor. When I finally do have the chance to relax, “Mom, I am bored, can we go to the park, please mom, please, please, oh my god mom you are not listening to me.”

Then, when my husband finally does come home from work, he will want to cook me a nice dinner. That usually goes something like this.

“Jen, where is that one pan I like to use?”

“Jen, where is that one knife I like to use?”

“I am sorry to bother you, but do we have any garlic?”

“What about peppers?”

It is at this point I get up and cook the dinner myself because it is just easier.

 

Do you know who Jenna Hinman is? If not, google her. I will give you the short story.

Jenna is married to an Army soldier, Brandon. They were pregnant with two twin little girls. At 30 weeks she went into premature labor on March 3rd. She had the babies via C-section one hour after she arrived in the emergency room. The babies, Kingleigh and Azlynn were taken to the NICU right away. Shortly there after, Jenna had problems breathing. It was discovered the she had a rare form  of pregnancy related cancer. Jenna spent two months fighting for her life.

Sadly, on May 5th she passed away.

I can only imagine how hard this Mothers day will be for her husband. As he cares for his brand new daughters who do not have their mommy. Jenna fought hard, she fought hard for Kingleigh and Azlynn. God bless.

So when I am presented with burnt toast and rare pancake batter on Sunday. When my husband asks me where are the pots, pans, knives, and garlic? I will say a silent prayer. Thanking God for burnt toast and a husband who apparently has not paid attention all these years. I will not take my crazy family for granted. I will enjoy everything, because sadly, Jenna’s husband, much like others, will be having a different kind of Mothers Day.

What do I really want for Mothers Day?

Nothing. Because I have it all.

~Jennifer

 

 

So….

~ Vodka Calling ~ 4 Comments

So, Here I am with my very first blog post. Oh do I feel the pressure. Except not really. I mean I have been blogging for years now. During that time, about three people have read my blog. I just needed a new place to start. Kinda like if you were to get a new drastic haircut, or make a move out of state, or have rum instead of vodka, I just needed a change. So, here I am.

Married, four kids, blah blah blah. Although I love my family, this blog is not about them. Of course you will hear a story or two here and there, but mainly, it will be about me. My struggles, my goals, my complaints on how freakin hard it is to be a wife, mother, and figure out who you are in the process.

I use the word “so” a lot. When I get ready to tell what I think will be a really good and funny story, it will always start with “So….” Just one of my many quirks I suppose.

Also, I love cats. I have 8. If I had all the money in the world, I would buy huge property somewhere in Montana and take in all the cats that I could.

Often times, I enjoy cats more so than people.

So, (see what I did there?) That is as much of an into as you will get. Hang in there with me, because Vodka is Calling.

~Jennifer

Day 1 of my 100 Day Fitness Challenge

~ Vodka Calling ~ 1 Comment

Yes. You read that right.

I am joining a few other bloggers in a 100 Day Fitness Challenge.

I will pause for laughter now.

Okay, ready?

Starting today, through August 8, will be 100 days. During those 100 days, I have just a few fitness goals that I would like to accomplish.

1. Drop about 30 pounds. Honestly, I probably only need to drop twenty. I just know my body, and usually I can lose 10 pounds a month if I stick to low carb.

2. Workout 5days a week, alternating between legs, and arms.

3. Stick to low carb. Of course there may be a cheat here or there, but not often.

Those are it for my fitness goals.

However, I decided to add a few other goals in there as well.

1. Write, by the end of the 100 days, I would like to have at least 100 pages to my book. I think that is doable.

2. make sure to spend time praying and doing my devotions daily. There is no room for error on this one. There may be days where I have too many carbs, or I only worked out three days a week, or I just plain did not feel like writing. I do not care what kind of day I am having, no matter what I need to check in with God.

3. At the end of the 100 days, I need to have decided on a church. 100 days is more than enough time to decide on one.

4. After the 100 days, time to finally get my drastic haircut change that I am too chicken to do now, but after 100 days, I will owe it to myself.

So, anyone else with me??

April 30th
Day 1 of 100
Weight (yeah, right, will not record my weight, I will just report if I lost or gained)

Exercise….two sets of 10 bicep curls, two sets of 20 triceps curls

Diet….One large ice coffee from Starbucks (This is not the norm for me,I was hot and cranky this morning)

Taco salad, cheese, salsa, sour cream, ground beef,

1 and a half pieces of bacon

A large frap from Starbucks (Yes, the day never got better)

Diet orange soda with vodka and two tablespoons of heavy whipping cream.

So, there ya go. Anyone else with me?

I still have "It"

~ Vodka Calling ~ 3 Comments

I have a story to share where I come out looking so good (like literally) and if you know anything about my blog, you know that does not happen often, so I am going to take complete advantage of that.

Quick back story. My twenty year old son (AJ) works with my husband Joe) in a large retail store. My husband is actually my sons boss. (Oh yeah, this will be good!)

Also, important to note. This story was told to me by both my husband and son. (In other words, not my delusional illusions)

Yesterday, after school, I took my daughters to the neighborhood park. I was so bored. I mean I know the girls enjoyed it, I tried to make the best of it. I had my book, I had my notebook, I had my phone. It was impossible to get anything done. “Mom, watch me, watch me mom, did you see, oh my god you did not see, see, you do not care about me, I wish dad was here.”

So, I decided to do what any normal mother would do and text my 20 yr old son (who lives right by the park.)

Me~ Are you off work yet?

Son~ On my way home, why?

Me~ Come to the park, I am bored.

Of course, like any good son, he came to the park. One of his co workers (Marissa) dropped him off. As he was walking over towards me, he is laughing.

Me~ Why are you laughing?

Son~ For one, it is 70 degrees and you are wearing jeans, boots, and a sweatshirt, and secondly, Marissa says you’re really pretty.

Me~ Well it was cold when I left this morning, I have been too busy to change. Who is Marisa, I like her.

Son~ The one who dropped me off. Do not let it go to your head.

Now, I assumed my son was just telling me that Marissa said I was pretty to make me feel good. You know how it is, life gets in the way and sometimes you just do not feel pretty, you feel worn out, tired, stressed, there is never enough time in the day. I felt this was my sons way of making me feel good, and I appreciated it.

Fast forward to Tuesday evening.

My husband gets home from work. He comes in laughing. I am already moody because he is like two hours late, I am tired, and quite frankly not in the mood for any of his work stories.

Except for this one.

So, according to my husband, this is what happened.

Today at work, husband, son, Marissa, and a new associate were all on break. Marissa is telling my son “Yeah dude, your mom is really pretty.”

All of a sudden this new associate pops up with “What, your mom is pretty, hook me up, I want to meet her, does she go for younger guys”

My husband and son both have this look on their face, you know the look, like if this guy keeps talking he will get knocked out.

Marissa (being the voice of reason) “Ummm, you do know that Aj’s mom is Joes wife?”

Silence.

Complete silence,

* 3 min later

“I am sorry boss, I met no disrespect, I had no idea his mom was your wife”

and there ya go! Apparently, I still have “it.”

As silly as it sounds, it made me feel good. The days are so long, the kids, god love them, drive me crazy. It’s nice to know that some people still think I am pretty.

Which is the perfect Segway to my new post……..come back tomorrow to check out my 100 day challenge.