My 3 Favorite Sports:

Mama's little brood of heathens are excited for the Peeps Season Opener tonight!

Starting it right with the chocolate covered duckies. Rounding it out with the classic pink bunnies. As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be. Peeps without end. Amen.

My only complaint is it coincides with Cadbury Cream Egg Season as well as the Mini Egg Minor League games. And the Reese's Peanut Butter Egg Tournament (which now come in a smaller, 90 calorie size...did you know this?!!).

7 Things No One Else Would Tell You About Me:

I don't win things anymore. I used to. But that was when I actually competed in things. So imagine my surprise when Laurie over at Worn Ragged gave me a Blog Award!! Since I love her dearly and we have become honest-to-goodness friends of the deepest sort, it feels a little like getting a World's Greatest Mom mug from your child. I mean, how could she make that list and not put me on it!? She knows I'd read it. So I think she is just being nice. But I like that about her.

Also, I think the award is like a blog-to-blog version of that slumber party staple, Telephone. See, it is called "Stylish Blogger Award." The meaning of which has been molested in some horrid way that the following graphic is even allowed on my blog!

I write about many things. Style is not really one of them. But I guess I have a writing style. I write in a regular voice in a style-like way. My posts are stylish in the way that they all sound a bit the same. Whew! Was worried about justifying that one for a minute! Pulled it off though.

In order to accept it, I have to do four things. There's that slumber party again.

Thing The First: tell you all 7 things about me no one else would.

1. I can do two, count them TWO, gross things with my eyeballs. I can make them bounce left to right like a Newton's Cradle AND I can blow bubbles out of my tear ducts. Sometimes the right one even makes a high pitched noise but since I have no control over that I don't count it.

2. This summer I had a hysterectomy due to some crazy-ass mass thing growing in my abdomen. It was the size of a 4 month pregnancy and because it was so abnormally huge the surgeon is writing a paper about how he got it all out with the help of a robot. Kind of cool. Only, the thing that still freaks me out (I stay awake thinking about it) is I still have one ovary...so where are the eggs going every month?

3. My navel is not centered left to right. And since I have an OCD thing about lining things up it is a source of much vexation. And possibly the source of the lining things up compulsion.

4. In High School a friend and I caught a nun stealing chocolates donated to the Senior Citizen's Home for their May Baskets. It was a strange time and I was very confused about who to tell and ended up telling no one. A different friend had nick-named her Sister Mary Godiva and the sneaky old bat passed away just this month. Ok...SO I tell that one all the time. I guess I need a new number 4.

4 real #4. My babies all had very clean ears and noses but icky navels. Relating to number 3...I hate navels. Mine the most, but anyone else's too. Just ish!! I have a friend whose husband is a goldsmith. When their baby's navel-jerkey fell off, they saved it and he cast it in gold which she wears on a necklace. You might just think it is a gold nugget if you saw it. And if just reading that makes you wretch a bit, imagine trying to have coffee with her when she wears a v-neck tee. You'll never look at a gold nugget the same way again. You will forever be wondering what did the goldsmith sneak inside of that thing? And now I won't be suffering this particular anxiety alone.

5. I just asked Moose (my husband) for an idea for number 5. He asked if this was a list of things no one else would or could tell you about me. Because if it is could he thinks I ought to fill you all in about my Passive Aggressive Nature. WHAT?! Guess that ought to have gone in column 3, the should column. As in he should not have even said that to me and if he was going to anyway he should have saved it until after Valentine's Day. No chocolate anything for him tomorrow that's for damn sure! (See that right there? Exhibit A which sort of proves his point. But screw him...more chocolate for me! Besides, the other option is just plain old Aggression and I suspect he'd like that one even less.)

6. Ok, here's one even Moose does not know: I cry every day. Usually more than once.

7. I started calling myself a writer because I do write things. Many of which are not this blog or the Baking and Taxidermy one I share with Laurie. Two of which are actually unedited novels one is a screenplay plus many short stories some poetry and my new love: flash fiction. And I did it after hearing Kate DiCamillo speak about how she wore black turtlenecks and called herself a writer long before she actually wrote/published anything. And, finally, she thought she had better write something or call herself something else. So she wrote. Sitting two rows from her and hearing her say those words rang like a gong inside of my chest. And every time I call myself a writer I can feel it echo still. So I kind of want to thank her. I'd love to invite her to the dog park with me and my dogs (because, if you don't know this about her, she loves other people's dogs) and then have her over for soup (because she also loves other people's soup and I am a fantastic cook). But I think that might be crossing a line in a stalker kind of way. Because I know if a stranger wrote to me and asked me to meet them in a wooded area with their dogs and then back to their house where a giant boiling pot was waiting I'd think twice about it too. But I am a huge fan of hers and would like to find a way to thank her, but not in a stalker kind of way. So maybe I'll just leave the soup on her front step.

Thing the Second: I get to nominate 6 other bloggers.

1. My cousin Jen at Cricket and Pip. She's a hoot and love her like the sister I always wanted. (Cross your fingers my actual sister does not read this. But then again, it's not like she doesn't know it too.) Also, Jen is the one who told me to blog. And I always listen to her.

2. My hairdresser Amy. For 2 reasons. 1, she is actually STYLISH! And 2, she is also very, very brave making a bold move at an amazing but stressful time in her life. I don't know if our relationship status technically allows me to be proud of her, but I am impressed by her, that's for sure!

3. For Scott who I have known since 7th grade. Yes, a guy! Let's see you make a foley and a feeding tube look so cool. The posts are not so frequent, but every word he writes is a gift.

4. Miss Julia!! Which reminds me, as soon as I find the connector to hook my camera to my computer I have a picture of something in my pants to send her. Cool it! It is a safety notice printed on the waistband of a pair of yoga pants. Click the link and it will make more sense.

5. For Winona over Here because she hardly ever goes over there anymore. Even though There is actually a style and fashion blog. And I totally get the blogging break, but I miss her writing quite a bit. You should all click on There and maybe we can talk her into an installment of Don't Showcha Your Chocha just for Old Times Sake.

6. And my darling Wendy B. Talk about style AND talent!! Her photos make me want more kids. Like, 7 more. Only, her pictures haven't found a way around that little I no longer have a uterus glitch.

7. Because it wouldn't be me playing along if I didn't cheat...Elena. For she is both earnest and whimsical and THAT is quite an accomplishment.

Thing the Third: contact these people.

Done.

Thing the Fourth: link back to the person who awarded you this prize.

Done. But I'll do it again because I love her so! Worn Ragged: Mommies on the Edge.

And now, for the six recipients to claim their prize of fame, glory, and the world's adoration...they simply have to repeat steps 1-4 on their own blogs. No threat of bad luck or hairy moles. You don't have to mail anyone 6 pairs of underpants or 3 recipes. It is not that kind of chain-letter, oops, I mean blog award.

don't know what you've got til it's gone...

So....

There was a comment on my earlier post today. I deleted it. And I'll tell you why.

It was anonymous and I thought it was insulting toward Moose. I thought it could have been meant in a funny way but on the off chance that Moose read it (I mean, he always reads them because I leave him voice mails telling him to read them) in a way that hurt his feelings I did not want to leave it up. I mean, really, it is not like I am swamped with so much feedback here that it would go by unnoticed in the flood of responses. I also do not get so many comments that his hide has thickened up. So I went into Alpha mode and moderated that one right out of here.

Well, it turns out....

It was not insulting. It was self-deprecating.

Oh that? That is something I can get behind! My husband recognizing a minor flaw that I didn't have to point out? Second helping of that, please!

Arrows are flying

And this time, I think one of them might have hit my son! If it was the 14th he might have been prepared to duck. But, alas, he took one right to the chest.

Spring came early to this frozen wasteland. Or at least to the fifth grade classroom. But with no outdoor recess because of the temp, what do you expect?

Big C comes home with the briefest of tidbits about which girls the boys like. He has no idea which boys the girls like because he never listens to their whispers. I think he only hears the boys because they are all loud and boisterous. And, until this morning, I thought he was on the outside of all of that. Turns out, he's on the fringe. Or maybe in it, though I am not willing to admit that to myself yet.

I'll explain.

We were having a treat of a time at the local coffee spot before school. Little C was making crumbs and Big C was making conversation about structural deficiencies in the cable system of the Brooklyn Bridge and how the designer compensated for the poor quality materials by increasing the amount of it! He did! And it is still holding up the bridge deck today. (Yes, this is how our mornings usually go...)

Until...

The cute red head from his class walked in and it was like Springtime blew in with her. He sat up straighter. Avoided eye contact. I reminded him to be polite and say hello because his natural inclination is to ignore any girl that is not Miss M. As it turned out he did not need the reminder :)

He cleared his brother's trash, wiped off the table, and got himself bundled. Then he zipped Little C's jacket for him (the small one has his arm in a sling) and helped him with his one glove. He walked right up to his classmate and said with a smile, "Hi, Miss A. See you in class!" Then he walked to the front door, held it open for a woman with her hands full and then still held it until Little C and I were through. He helped his brother into the van and buckled his seat belt for him even.

Now, he is generally a well-mannered boy. But this was turning the volume way up.

And the adorable Miss A? She was grinning from ear to ear and blushing between her freckles.

After dropping off the boys I was the one grinning and blushing. Not because my darling middle child might have a crush. But because, facing that possibility, he put his best foot forward and behaved like a gentleman. He was not goofy. He was not loud. He was not rude. And he did not throw an eraser at her (that was big when I was 11).

Instead of the typical, awkward thing...he shined!

Proud Mama, signing off....