Friday, March 23, 2012

I almost got mugged today

Every Friday night, I stop for cash for the babysitter. Sometimes I make it early enough to go inside the bank, but often I end up going to the ATM outside. I don't particularly care for where placement of the ATM- it is on front side of the bank without any parking next to it. Instead, you must park in the lot on the side and walk over.
Tonight, I arrived to the bank just minutes after the doors were closed and locked. I parked my car in one of the few open spots, which happened to be next to a car that had 3 guys and a girl in it. All the car doors were open, but they were just sitting in there, none of them smiling. They all looked young, maybe 20 years old. It seemed a little strange to me, but I figured they probably had a really good reason for parking there. (I would have asked, but didn't want to seem rude.)
So I walked to the ATM, and just tried to remain aware of my surroundings. I put in my card, entered my pin, and typed how much cash I wanted. Quick look around, all clear. As the ATM beeped to alert me that my cash was coming out, I heard hard footsteps running toward me from the side of the building. My heart started racing. It took me a second to focus on the bodies running toward me... and realize it was just a couple of kids, running ahead of their mom to the ATM. Whew, that was close.
Walking back to my car, I still felt a little on edge, and tried to decide if it would be weird if I got in the passengers side to avoid the car next to mine. Then I realized there is no keyhole on the passenger's side, and to unlock the passenger's side, I would have to unlock ALL the doors. So instead, I decided to focus on the make/model and license plate number on the suspicious looking car, and hope for the best. I unlocked the door just as I reached it, and locked it quickly as I got in (all while trying to be very subtle and avoid looking like a paranoid freak).
I started the van and breathed a sigh of relief- just in time to hear "HEY" and see a face out of the corner of my eye closing in on my window. My heart stopped. I reached for the gear shift, and prepared to floor it, trying to remember what that darn license plate number was. Then I realized, it was just that same running kid, sweetly bringing me the receipt I had left hanging from the ATM in my haste to avoid being mugged.

Once I was safely down the road, I called my hubby to tell him about the danger I was almost in. I mean, I nearly got mugged! He was pretty torn up about it. At least I assume that is what the laughter was about, you know, a coping mechanism for dealing with the stress of almost losing his wife.

Monday, March 5, 2012

Music Time

This morning, Josh, the boys and I ran some errands on our Snow Day. A song kept playing over and over and over in my head. I had to hear it.

Now, back when that song was popular, I could have asked someone in person or via my cordless phone. Then, if I wanted to listen to it, I'd have to sit in front of my radio and wait. If I was really invested in keeping the song, I'd have to get a ride to the music store. The alternative was waiting in front of the boom box in a quiet room with a blank tape and fingers poised over the record and play buttons, ready to strike as soon as the opening notes played.

Luckily, it's 2012. I opened the Facebook app on my smartphone and posted the following to my girl Carrie's wall: Whats the song that says 1,2 checka microphone checka. Wrecks in effect in effect I'm a wrecka? Cuz it's stuck in my head

Within two minutes, she'd responded with the title [Ha! Rump Shaker.] and youtube link[]. Yes, I could have googled, but I knew my girl was quick. Besides, I knew she'd want to reminisce about flat-tops, high tops, and Top 40 countdowns.

I clicked the link on my phone. It was not available for mobile, but I searched it on youtube. Boom! Just like that, it was opened and hooked via mp3 jack to my car radio. In under five minutes, my boys were experiencing Rump Shaker.

G, my younger one, wanted to hear it again and again. Josh, my headbanger husband tried to remember if he'd heard it on Kids Bop. One day I'll tell my kids about how we worked for our tunes. Right then, though, I just sat back and sang along.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

It's Superwoman's fault

I am perpetually late for everything- work, church, doctor's appointments, and anything else that has a set start time. I don't do it on purpose, and I always mean to be on time, but I have a horrible habit of underestimating how long it takes to get places. I also think I'm superwoman, and have a tendency of over-estimating how much I can do in a day, morning, hour, etc. But sometimes, it has little to do with me- some mornings one of my kids can't find his coat or another forgets his bookbag at home. Sometimes my daughter and I have a difference of opinion on clothes, like I think she should wear them and she wants to go commando in the middle of winter.
Then there are mornings when I walk into a room to find something like this-

Yes, that is Anakin Skywalker in my living room, teaching Superwoman to sort her crayons into piles by colors. It is pretty common in my home, to find Star Wars characters, super heroes, princesses, and fairies playing with each other, and helping each other to learn new things. (And in case you were wondering, both kids walked out of the house dress like this - one to school for character day, and the other to the sitter, who is now accustomed to the costumes.)

Friday, March 2, 2012

G's Got Hookers

B is at Grammy's tonight, so G took the opportunity to pilfer B's side of the car when I picked him up this afternoon.

"I had this first! I had it first!" he yelled, lest I try to get B's stuff back for his absent brother. 

"What is it?"

"I got hookers! I got hookers!"

"Let me see?"

"They 'rasers." Erasers. Conversation heart, scented erasers that were in the goodie bags the boys and I made for B's class and for the other kids at the sitters--mostly because we had enough left over. Hopefully none of the twenty-some kids we gave those erasers to tried to eat the scented "candy".

"Did you call them hookers?"

"Yeth. They Hooker's!"

HOOKER'S! MRS. Hooker's, B's reading teacher. B had brought hers home because he didn't give it to her.


Thursday, March 1, 2012

I guess I'm old-fashioned

Have you ever encountered one of those people who is cynical and sarcastic, and seems to revel in his orneriness? Sometimes you can learn a little something from him, even if it isn't the lesson he intended. I ran into one of those today, and a comment he made that really made me think. He said "why 'ladies first'? We don't need to be blindly follow antiquated rules of etiquette and get stuck in tradition." (I don't think he said it quite so eloquently, but I took a little poetic license since he's not here.)

I remember when I thought the same way- why do men have to pay on a date, hold the door open, pull out the chair for a woman., and be the "bread winner". These are all things that women can do for themselves; we don't need for a man to take care of us. As I've grown and learned, I realized I was looking at it all wrong. Of course women can open a door, and pay her own way. That isn't the point because that is not what any of these actions are about. They aren't meant to put a woman in her place or hold her back. These actions done as a sign of respect, with honor, and done in love. A man doesn't do these things because he looks down on a woman, but because he thinks highly of her.

This isn't to say that my husband always opens the door for me or pulls out my chair (although he has on occasion). My husband shows respect for me and honors me in many other ways. He corrects our kids when they speak to me in a manner that is disrespectful. He makes dinner, and often makes my plate when we are at home. (I reciprocate by making his plate when we are at friend's/family's homes.) He reminds me to take a break when I am overwhelmed, and makes it possible for me to relax. He isn't trying to put me down, he isn't trying to hold me back- he loves me and is trying to make me better. He wants me to feel honored and adored. I sure hope our kids are watching and picking up on the importance of taking care of those around them. If that is traditional and antiquated, then perhaps being modern is what is wrong with relationships these days.

Fashion Genius

A couple days I blogged about my husband's fashion sense. Yesterday morning, I swore B took after his father when I witnessed this outfit: Reminiscent of the Christmas lumberjack, no?

I tried to get him to change the bottoms. I mean, red bottoms, green top? He couldn't change the top. It was School Spirit Day, and he only fits the green school shirts. In fact, that shirt is over TOP black and green shirt. He wouldn't go to jeans, though. He SAID it was because his shoes were already on.

When I got to work and told a friend, though, I realized: My son is a fashion genius. You see, it happened to be on Leap Day. Once every four years, an "extra" day is added to the year. I falls right between "Normal February"--a month wih symbolic red--and March--a month with symbolic green. MY kid combined both colors on the day sandwiched between "typical".