American Graffiti

A few weeks back, the whole Hotwheel family spent a great afternoon at the playground on Monte Sano. Both Caleb and I would occasionally play there growing up, and immediately remembered this Metal Death Trap:




Of course, the boys loved it and spurned all the safe, cushiony playground equipment in order to crawl all over the MDT. I followed in order to avoid yet another trip to the ER, and was rewarded with some hard-core graffiti chiseled on the metal inside:

I Hate Peas. That is punk rock.

Civil disobedience, indeed.

If you need another breath of fresh air, check out these videos of the two presidential candidates at the Alfred E. Smith Memorial Dinner a few nights ago. They both KILLED it - funny, self-deprecating, charming, relevant.... dont'cha wish the whole campaign could have been like this?
(Thanks for the link, S2!)

Happiness & Homecoming Queens

The past few weeks have given me much to reflect on. Caleb and I celebrated nine years of marital bliss last week, and the week before got brave enough to attend our high school's homecoming football game. I'll tackle each one separately and then segue into how they both intersect. (This should be good!)

We've been married nine years, but if you ask us, we'd both probably tell you it feels longer. NOT because of the agonizing slowness of marriage, but because wwwaaaaayyyyy back longer than that. We first met when we were 13 & 14 respectively, but didn't date then. Mostly because I wasn't allowed, secondly because we only passed each other in the hall a few times, and thirdly I was... pretty awkward that year (read: chubby & dorky).

When high school rolled around a few years later, Hotwheel Hubs will tell you he tried to ask me out, but he really didn't. We were friends, and hung out with lots of the same people. If you had told either one of us we'd get married back then I'm sure we'd both laugh in your face.


BookMamma & Hotwheel Hubs as HS seniors


I was lucky enough to have a good handful of GREAT friends in high school, a few that I am still in touch and involved with to this day. However, none of them - myself included - are terribly nostalgic for "the good ole days". We all agree it was pretty rough and are much more comfortable in our current skins. (Don't get me wrong, it was fun, but I'm not able to relate very well to people who can't seem to move past high school and think of it as the best days of their lives.) Going back for Homecoming was strange for me, but I thought it would be fun to take the boys, and my little sister was a senior this year so it was the last chance I could get away with going due to family ties.

I was surprised that it opened a floodgate of memories.

There was my parking spot, and over there was where dance team practiced. There was the "cafetorium" where I had drama class, and can you believe that teacher still works here?? Mainly though, it made me think of people, and past Homecoming games I attended in school.

My favorite year was 11th grade. I had some friends in the senior class and was doing that introspective thing teenage girls do when they start to question who they are and the company they keep and who they want to be. The main thing I remember about that year was being in a state of hilarity for the majority of it - EVERYTHING was funny. It was the year of Forest Gump, ER's television debut, and Kurt Cobain's departure. Beavis & Butthead were in their prime. I met new people and tried new things - some good, some not. Homecoming that year stands out in my head, because that was the year of the anti-Homecoming Queen... Danielle's reign began.


Specifics erased to protect the not-so-innocent.

Danielle was funny, pretty, athletic, and pragmatic. She was popular, but in a literal way as opposed to an elite way. Everybody knew her because she talked to everybody. She had an uncanny talent for making people feel included, students and staff alike. All the teachers knew her, all the cheerleaders knew her, all the dorks knew her, and all the jocks knew her. Which was probably how she got to be Homecoming Queen, although I seem to remember her hating it. She spoke her mind in a way I had not seen before - not confrontational or bratty like most 17 year-olds, but with unapologetic empathy. 1994 was the year I became friends with Danielle, and she was one of the first to impress upon me the endless possibilities of life outside of The Green.

Graduation happens, college happens, time passes. Caleb and I suddenly find ourselves back in the hometown during a lull in both of lives. A friendship is revived. Long story short, it all results in this:



The wedding was huge, full of friends & family. My girls from high school threw me a surprise batchelorette party the week before and Danielle was there, instigating as usual. Several weeks ago I got see Danielle as she popped into town to visit friends. We keep connected through the various social networks and still share friends, so I hear a lot about what she's up to second hand. It's rare & wonderful when you have a friend that time doesn't seem to touch.


Danielle & Choppa - she's the one on the right.

So, Danielle - here's your promised post.
(Please don't kill me, but you know you had it coming for the photo you put up last year!)

And to Caleb - my how time flies when you're having fun... you have helped me to never "[be] cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass."

The Path of Least Resistance

The keyword hits are cracking me up lately! I love seeing how folks wind up at the HH as they do their wacked-out Google searches... **


hot boys briefs
This one happens a LOT. Combined with the gross-out additions of the numbers one and three. I don't want to think long about that one...


Conversely, I also get pinged by:
hot hippy boy


gargantula spider
So I guess that's a real word now. Kind of like 'damntastic'.




read alike alice in wonderland
This one puzzles me because I can't figure out what post it's referencing. Any ideas?


Dickinson's lemon curd
A post about this recipe gets tons of weekly hits. You're welcome, Dickinson's! You can send me that lifetime supply of nommy lemon curd any day now.


make his in-laws love you
Part II of Dickinson's post. Apparently the subject of distraught in-law relationships is a big issue.


schnitzel zone
Um... okay. Do I WANT to know?


mexican bathrooms?
No, thank you.


As a library professional, it makes me cringe when people use Google like it's GOD. In case you don't already know, always question Teh Internets... ALWAYS!

Whatever You Do, DON'T Vote

Just in case you need an army of A-list celebrities encouraging you to vote...



... and now, back to your regularly scheduled Hotwheel Hacienda.
(No more political posts, I promise. I'll do that elsewhere.)

Finn goes for his check up with the plastic surgeon tomorrow. Something tells me that will be very blog-worthy. Stay tuned!

The Great Costume Debacle

It's officially October and the boys have started this year's debate - what to be for Halloween? Actually, the search began back in August, but neither Caleb or I took either very seriously, because we knew it would change a million times.

The difference now is Eli is interested, and Finn - who we thought would be the constant element in the Halloween equation - can't seem to make up his mind. Before Eli could care less, but now he is firmly resolved to be "Star Wars", which include any one of the following:

- Darth Vader
- a Jedi
- Boba Fett
- Yoda

Fickle Finn changes with the wind. Months ago is was Shark Boy, from the movie Shark Boy & Lava Girl. Then it changed to Indiana Jones, in part because he loves to watch us play Lego Indiana Jones on the Wii. (Note he's never seen the movies and really has no idea who Indiana Jones is.) Then he wanted to be a knight, just because he saw a costume in TJ Maxx he liked that was five times too big for him.

Today? He wants to be "Scary Jerry".

Who is Scary Jerry, you ask?



He is this guy. My mom came to visit over the weekend and brought Scary Jerry, a magnetic skeleton that she got at the hospital gift shop. Scary Jerry lives on our refrigerator... and Finn has fallen in love with him. Scary Jerry needs to be adjusted. Scary Jerry is too cold. Scary Jerry "glows in the dark" (not really). Scary Jerry wants to play with him. Scary Jerry is ticklish.

Finn wants to marry Scary Jerry.

Luckily, Caleb's parents found some cute skeleton pajamas for both boys a while back. Am I bad mother is I just layer those with thermal underwear, slap on a skeleton mask, and call it a day?

Scary Jerry is whispering in my ear, telling me I should.

Living the Good LIfe

Check this out. This is an actual obit that ran a few days ago...

WEDNESDAY OCTOBER 1, 2008 - James William "Jim" Adams

A celebration of life for James William "Jim" Adams, 53, will be held at a later date.

He died Tuesday, Sept. 9, 2008 at Memorial Hospital of Converse County in Douglas.

Jim, who had tired of reading obituaries noting other's courageous battles with this or that disease, wanted it known that he lost his battle. It was primarily as a result of being stubborn and not following doctor's orders or maybe for just living life a little too hard for better than five decades.

He was born June 8, 1955 in Garrison, N.D. the son of James William and Ruby Helen (Clark) Adams.

He was sadly deprived of his final wish, which was to be run over by a beer truck on the way to the liquor store to buy booze for a date. True to his personal style, he spent his final hours joking with medical personnel, cussing and begging for narcotics and bargaining with God to look over his loving dog, Biscuit, and his family.

He would like to thank all "his ladies" for putting up with him the last 30 years.

During his life, he excelled at anything he put his mind to. He loved to hear and tell jokes and spin tales of grand adventures he may or may not have had.

He is survived by five sons, Jeremiah Adams and his wife, Nicole, Mica Olivas, Wade Olivas, Brice Simpson and Cole Adams; sister, Jerri Giegerich; two ex-wives, Vickie Harrison and Marilyn Williams; four grandchildren; two nieces; and two great-nieces.

He was preceded in death by his parents and a brother-in-law.

In lieu of flowers, he asks that you make a sizeable purchase at your favorite watering hole, get rip roaring drunk and tell the stories he no longer can.

Gorman Funeral Homes - Converse Chapel of Douglas is in charge of the arrangements.

I can only hope for a tribute that awesome.

(this was also a test to see if Blogger's scheduled post option works, but in no way negates the awesomeness.)

Boy Briefs, the ER Version

Yep, we had to go back last night.

Thanks to all my twitterkin that sent good vibes our way. I sincerely think it helped! We were able to leave (yet again) without having to put Finn under for surgery. And today the cut looks better - it's pinking up. Those of you who are very brave can go see it here. Be warned - it's gross.

At the current moment our status is set to "wait & see". All the doctors involved (and there is a growing number of them, which I think is stoopid) seem to think it could easily go either way. Best case scenario involves sutures healing great and come out next week. Worst case would be skin continues to die due to lack of blood supply and surgery becomes inevitable. Then it's put Finn under - something that scares me very much - and plastic surgeon takes a graph from his tiny little back and applies it to his arm so it doesn't crater.

We see plastic surgeon Tuesday and its his call. Until then, we have to watch it vigilantly and go straight to the doctor, do not pass go, do not collect $200, where he will then send us straight to the ER and we do it all over again.

JOY.

While I am VERY thankful this is just a superficial wound, and we're not dealing with a super-serious injury, the thought of putting Finn to sleep for surgery makes me incredibly nervous. I guess I've heard too many horror stories of kids never waking up again, especially little ones.

So - if you have a positive success story to share, please leave them in the comments.

If you only have horrible, awful, negative stories, take a hike. I can't hear those right now.



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Two year old and I are driving to meet Hotwheel Hubs and Finn at the ER. I am distraught due to circumstances.

Eli: "Mommy. Mommy. Look! Look Dat!!"

Me: "What? Where?"

Eli: "Iyon pway! Iyon pway!" points and wiggles excitedly

Me: "What?"

Eli: "IYON PWAY!! Der. Der. Der-der-der-der. DER!!!"

Me: spotting the source of discontent
"You want to play there, at that playground?"

Eli: "Ya."

Me: "We can't baby. We got to go see Daddy and Brother."

Eli: "Kaaay."

(a few miles later)

Eli: "Schweep da moon, schweep da moon, Ewi schweepin', Brudder nigh-nigh"
Repeat 18 times.
(Translation: Sleep the moon, sleep the moon, Eli sleeping, Brother night night.)

(more miles later)

Eli: "Mommy. Mommy. Look! Look Dat!! Eeeeewwwww. Dat yucky!"

Me:  ......

Eli: "Eeeeewwwww. Blech. Dat duht nassy."

Me: spotting the construction & piles of dirt around the hospital
"Yep. Nasty dirt."

(in the hospital parking lot)

Eli: "Mommy. Mommy. Look! Look Dat!! Der! Mocycle! Iyona wide!"

Me: "Yep. It's a motorcycle. Say 'hi' to the motorcycle man. We can't ride, baby. We have to go see Daddy now."

Eli: "Kaaay."

Eli has no clue whatsoever there is discord in the house. His oblivion is refreshing, and I hope if I stay around it long enough I can absorb some of it by osmosis. He's been pacifier free for over 3 weeks, and his talking has increased at least 50%. He quit by himself, cold turkey. He's asked for it a few times when he's been sleepy or upset, but only a few. 

I'm so proud of my goofy, sweet baby boy. He's a spot of sunshine on a cloudy day.




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Also - anyone know if its possible to back up a blog? I'm terrified of blogger crashing and losing all my posts. Is this a dumb thing to worry about or can my neurosis be validated?