Brilliant Smack Down!

Keith Olbermann pulled no punches and launched a brilliant smack down on Bush and FOX News

When a 6 year-old is excited to go to China...

This is what he spends his Sunday afternoon doing...(these are just a few of his pages...Check out Tank Man!)
Would you say, this is the beginning of a future blogger?

Voted off the Island... and so early in the season.

Yesterday was a big day.
Henry got home from dad's just in time to rush off to a birthday party. A truly fabulous all boy birthday party that included combat gear, green hair, obstacle courses, zip lines over piranah infested swamps, and a dusty secret mission ...followed by cupcakes, cold stone ice cream, M&Ms, gummy bears, sprinkles, chocolate sauce and no protein what so ever.

Not being an ice cream eater, I was starving when we left, so I dragged my famished body, and Henry's stuffed one to Cheri's house, unannounced, to beg her and Laura to go to dinner with us. I was thrilled that she answered the door with "Please say you are starving and you are here because you want to go to dinner". I love her. She can read my mind! Laura and Henry however had other ideas. Henry wanted to take his shoes off and stay awhile and in doing so, dumped about a 1/2 cup of dirt from his previous secret mission onto Cheri's clean stairs. I cringed but knew nothing of the cringing that was to come.

We finally got the kids out of the house, and headed to Islands®, one of our favorite weekly dinner haunts. It just doesn't feel like a proper week if Henry and I haven't had dinner with Laura, Cheri and Tom, at least once or twice. We went together in Cheri's car, the Lexus fondly known for causing unexplained projectile puking. (Back in August Henry and I got a Good Sport Award when on the way to church, Laura threw up on her Dad and I helped clean it up a little. It really was no big deal at all. I have cleaned up plenty of puke in my time and think nothing of it really. Until tonight.

The kids were a little cranky so after counseling them in the parking lot on how to treat each other with consideration and love, we went in to eat. I sat with Laura on my side of the booth and Cheri sat with Henry. Later Tom even joined us. We had lots of protein at the table and tried our best to get our kids to eat some. Towards the end, Henry started saying the he wanted to go to the bathroom. Last time we went to the toilet at Islands®, he took 20 minutes in the men's room while I paced outside the door shouting every time the door opened - "Hurry up Henry or I'm coming in there" making a spectacle of myself while my margarita sat at the table getting diluted by the melting ice. This time I was determined to wait as long as possible to take him, so as to minimize the wait in hall outside the bathroom door. This turned out to be an unwise gamble, and I saw it coming way too late. Henry's face turned pasty white, his eyes got a glassy look and his little head started going in tiny circles. He projectile puked more birthday party colors than I have ever seen... and he did it in Cheri's lap.. 3 times before our shock wore off and we all jumped to action.

Chaos ensued as we gathered napkins and towels, rushed Laura out the door, wiped the puke off everything and everyone and tried to take care of Henry. We ended up hustling out the door leaving double tip, lots of barf and disgruntled, nauseated patrons. And poor Cheri. She helped me strip Henry down in the parking lot, put a pair of Laura's ballet underpants on him before even attempting to attend to herself and her puking wet, clotty jeans. Talk about a good sport. I felt so bad, I was wiping puke off her bum and legs and practically wanted to cry. Then Cheri did something that I haven't seen a grown woman do since my 21st birthday. She stripped off her jeans, right there in the parking lot, wadded them up matter-of-factly, got in the car and drove home in her undies! What a problem solver. When we arrived at the house Tom was waiting in the driveway with a towel for Cheri and a tablecloth for Henry and even though I feel absolutely awful for both of them, I have never laughed so hard in my life. Man I owe her.

Bless you Cheri! I do just love you and I hope you don't mind if we find a new place to have dinner next week. I think the Island has probably voted us off for good!

Then and now...

Time sure flys...

Beginnings are important...

And this looks like it might be the beginning of a good year.

My Three Sons...

...an influential domestic comedy of 1960 and a BIG lesson for me in 2006.

My son's have been snowmakers a very important job according to Henry, in Nederland Colorado, population 1,394, for over 3 years now. In spite of numerous requests, Henry and I had never been to visit until last week.

I was afraid that if I actually saw the way young bachelor guys in a hippie mountain town lived, my eyeballs might bleed. I pictured burned out couches, moldy refrigerators full of nothing but beer, bathrooms full of pee, toothpaste splatters and hairballs, half eaten burritos and dirty magazines under the bed, covered up by endless laundry, ferret poop, dog hair and bongs. I was afraid to expose Henry's eyeballs too, at their tender age. He idolizes his big brothers and I pictured him coming home hooked on cheese fries with ranch dressing and Top Ramen and beer and a whole new vocabulary to ask for them.

What I found, was enough to make me bust my buttons. My sons live in a darling little duplex, designed and built by a Swiss master craftsman right on the main road leading to the snowboard park. The neighbor, a 65 year old lady, loves them so much she frequently makes big pots of pasta and meatballs and leaves it on the doorsteps to thank them for the various favors they do for her. Last week, they dug a hole and put up a tetherball pole so her grandson can play when he is over. They actually had a GARDEN, with actual FLOWERS in it, that they had actually PLANTED themselves. The refrigerator actually had chicken, rather than beer or mold and a homemade carrot cake intended for us! (OK where is Uncle Charley? I know he's here somewhere)

Everywhere we went, I heard people calling out to them like they were famous or something. The lady that owned the cabin we rented, said they had stopped by, to help her unload a truck of wood - just because she looked like she could use a hand. The landlord said they were the most respectful, wonderful tenants she had ever had. Their boss said they were incredibly responsible, hard workers and that he hoped never to lose them. Seriously!?

This was a huge lesson for me on what happens when your FORMER; smart mouthed, lazy-assed, drop-out, surfer boys, grow up and get a job and a life and THRIVE. They are happy and proud of themselves and I am still high on pride and love. See more pictures here.