Functional Shmunctional

While on my hiatus, I neglected to share all the wonderful and exciting things that were taking place in Grandy-land.  My proudest moment of the year was the night that little-man-Grandy achieved his Eagle Rank designation for Boy Scouts. 

Some of you who may follow this blog (if you're still around) know that we have been scout nerds for many years.  Grandy is in the process of planning his Eagle Awards ceremony as we speak.  As I go through all these things, and try to get his scrapbook together, I ask myself...

How...or WHEN did my boy go from this???


To this????


 *sniff. sniff*

I want my rewind button!!  I want my baby back!!! 

Back to the invitations I suppose.  *sniff*  I'll let you know all about the event, and have more pictures...but much to do. 

I'm not exactly sure what is going on in Grandy-land at the moment.  Now that I'm 40 am I going all sentimental?  My usual comical posts appear to be replaced with a few "LOVE LOVE LOVE" posts.  HUH? ::taking temperature:: Let's blame it on a full moon, hormones, or a hangover headache, but here you are...stuck feeling my love with another post.

Wait a minute.  It's not my comical anecdotes that you all were missing.  It was just the posts in general.  Riiigggghhhhtttt!!  *wink wink*  We'll just go with that and say, "I missed you too!" 

In my last post, I explained how very cool our small town of Foresthill is.  What I maybe didn't mention was how "small" it is, in comparison to many communities. 

Our local businesses and community members give their all to support the local Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts, 4-H, Little League, Swim Team, Softball, Soccer (and more I know I'm forgetting at the moment) in addition to the Elementary, Middle and High Schools.  We truly are blessed.

I can't count a weekend where there is not a fundraising opportunity for one event or another.  For a small town, we always rally for whatever the cause.  Car washes, spaghetti feeds, Tupperware parties, and this weekend is the annual "FIRE SALE" which is where everybody donates their things 8 months out of the year for a HUGE sale to benefit the local volunteer fire department.

Because we are such a small town, we are often overlooked in the area of corporation donations.  We have launched full force campaigns over the last few years to raise some serious funds to keep things going, as budget cuts keep coming to our small schools.  Budget cuts are affecting schools everywhere, don't get me wrong.  But since this is my blog...I get to talk about MY schools. 

Enter (stage left) an opportunity for YOU...YES YOU...to help our small town.

Were you touched by the story of our fire?  Have you been moved to tears (pass the tissue) over my love for these folks?  Are you ready to hand over your wallets and life savings?  Not so much?  Hehehe...I don't blame you.  Good thing I'm not asking you for money, huh? 

Target has launched a Gift Card campaign.  For every 25 votes our Foresthill High School gets, Target will gift us a $25 gift card.  Did you catch that?  You click...and TARGET pays.  Pretty good gig huh?

So...You have a computer...you have a Facebook...Please check this out and vote for Foresthill High School.  You can vote once a week until 9/8/12 (or until Target runs out of their $2.5M), so be sure to come back and vote. 

How did it happen?

Where did the time go?

*sniff*

You want to see something cute??



Yep!! That's my boy at HOMECOMING!! He took a very sweet girl, went to dinner with a group of friends, and had a great time. I hear a rumor he even DANCED!!

GOOD TIMES!!

p.s. Grandy has decided there has not been enough posts on here lately. To jump start her stupidity motivation, she has decided to participate in another round of NaBloPoMo. Let's do this!!! I make no promises for 30 days of "quality" content...but we always have FUN!!

So many of you thought that I only had one boy...

Well get a load of the rest of my boys...

At any given time we have one, several, or all of these boys with us.

They're a group of knuckleheads, but I gotta love them.

I was so proud of them this morning at the 4th of July parade.

I hope you all have a glorious holiday weekend!!

This week Grandy played the saint good aunt and headed to her twin sister's house to watch her 3 boys. Yep, you read that right, 3 BOYS. Ages? 7, 4 and 3.

Why would Grandy do such a thing, you ask? No, don't worry, Grandy wasn't smoking that funny stuff. Grandy LOVES these little guys!! It was their 10th wedding anniversary, and they NEEDED some time together.

Thursday through Sunday...a full weekend.

These are some SWEET boys. They are ALL boy...and ALL individual. This isn't my first time watching them for an overnight trip, but a full weekend. Whew. Did I mention I only have ONE? And he's 12?!

Grandy is a little out of practice on some things. What? I'm supposed to ask if the 3 year old has to go potty? Shoot! We went through a few changes before I got the hang of that. Then he got pull-ups the rest of the weekend. Screw the Transformer underwear this weekend...there are so many loads of laundry one can do in a day.

I am glad that I had the opportunity to do this. I got to witness each of them with their individual personality, their quirks, and their craziness.

3 Year Old - The Dancer, Stubborn, Hellyun...He is awesome but you tell him to do something and he full on says and does the opposite.

4 Year Old - Cute, Charming, Cunning...He's the tattler of the group (that's about right for the middle child, right?)

::Pic taken by Grandy's phone::

Can Grandy get an Ooh Yeah???

::Pic NOT taken by Grandy's phone::

Well, the Grandy family had a blast at Cruefest on Tuesday night!!

I won't lie to you, I'm pretty sure I will be scarred for life by some of the images I witnessed with my son. Not because I witnessed them, mind you, but because he witnessed them in front of me. When we got there, I instantly started to feel better because there were LOTS of kids there, many were much younger than my guy. When we left, I was feeling...well stunned.

It was a great crowd. Beach balls bouncing in the air, people enjoying their friends, their music, and their beer. Yes, some even enjoyed their herbal treats.

Hubby asked me after the concert, "What did you expect? They're called Motley Crue. What do you think "Motley" means?" At that moment, I didn't have an answer. But dictionary.com says it's one of these:

1.exhibiting great diversity of elements; heterogeneous: a motley crowd.
2.being of different colors combined; parti-colored: a motley flower border.
3.wearing a parti-colored garment: a motley fool.

I had never been to a Motley Crue concert, but he had. He could have warned me...that's all I can say. It was only AFTER the concert that he told me they had the absolute worst reputation for being nasty on stage.

I can't go into specific detail with you all because you'll efing call CPS on me I don't want to brag, or ruin it for the rest of you.

What I will do, is share a short list of things I will have some splainin' to do later:

5. Other uses for leather...It's not just for jackets ya know.

4. What IS that funny smell? - I was honest and told him what the smell was, I just didn't have an answer for why it smelled "so funny". Any advice parents?

3. No, that's NOT fighting they're doing in the Mosh Pit.

2. Why too much liquor can cause you to kiss too many people...and in public.

And last...certainly not least...the one that requires no explanation but will help you know my horror...

1. T!T-E-CAM

All I can say, despite the pornographic videos slightly disturbing images on the screens, it was a good show. Papa Roach, Buck Cherry, Trapt, Sixx-AM. A good show indeed.

Now, according to hubby, it only gets cleaner from here. I frankly don't have any interest in seeing Marilyn Manson anyway.

It's March 19th, my favorite day of the year!!

I tease you and say it's because it's the last day of Winter, but you know the real reason, because you're smart and sly that way...and you get me.

I can't believe it was 12 years ago today you blessed my life. I was a single mom, who barely knew what she was supposed to do, and you came into my world and truly saved me. From the moment you were born, you and I have been thick as thieves, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Nice try on this one. :)

Happy Birthday Ty!! I love you more than you will ever know. I am so blessed every day you are in my life! I pray we have many many MANY more birthdays to share.


Now...Go clean your room.


Love,

Mom

Bad weather's got nothing on this Grandy Family!! Ok...maybe just a little.

We just got power back in the house sometime late last night. If I judge it by the blinking alarm clock, it looks like it was about 11:30 last night. It's amazing how many times I wanted to walk over to my computer. It was like something was calling me.

"Grandy...you're forgetting something...come here!!"

Alas, without power, I ignored my inner voice and urge to go to my desk. What would be the point? I can't sort my husbands receipts in the dark, can't use the shredder, can't post on my BLOG!! Must. Fight. The. URGE!!!

As I said, the power came on late last night. When I woke up this morning, my son was already at my desk. And there it was. Staring me in the face! In the middle of EVERYTHING!!! The spot where I put important reminders!!

Memo: Albert leaves for Iraq next week. Surprise party for him at the Johnson's house. 6pm SATURDAY!!!

Saturday? As in LAST NIGHT??

OMG!!! This is one of Hubby's old friends that he hasn't seen in a while. They called late Wednesday, while hubby was out of town (and already sleeping because we had talked an hour before when he said he would be). I made the note to tell him about the party the next day. Chaos ensued, and he wasn't home the next day. Then further chaos with the storm, no power and no phones (no brain apparently).

I FORGOT TO TELL HIM!!!! ACK!!! CRAP!!! (Insert appropriate expletives here***)

After a quick warning to my son that I goofed up on this, what it means, and that he may wish to make sure he is a model citizen today so he is not caught in the cross-fire, I started to plan how I would tell him when he woke. I considered the following:

Option A: RUN FAR...nah...that wouldn't work, I have to come home sometime.
Option B: Leave a note explaining, and tell him to call me when he's cooled off. Well, that wouldn't have worked for the obvious reasons.
Option C: See what kind of mood he's in when he wakes up (making sure to let him sleep as long as humanly possible) and gently own up to this horrible wrong. It was a complete oversight and there is NO excuse, but I have to own it. Let's face it, were the shoe on the other foot I'd be upset too.

Yep!! I would have to go with Option C. It's only the right thing to do...I'll tell him when I know he's good and awake...and I'm good and ready!

Readers...I should warn you that the following acts are real. I am still in shock over the betrayal, and am currently plotting my revenge as we speak.

Hubby: So, now that we have power, what is on our agenda for today? (sounds promising, does it not??)
Me: I don't know yet. (Knowing that what I tell him may affect his wanting to spend time with me)
Ty: Hey Mom!! Don't you have something you have to tell him?? (Gasp!!)

**The sound you are hearing is my son throwing me in front of the bus!! I'm torn between my anxiety for disappointing Hubby and the urge of beating my son to a pulp!!**

Me: Et tu, Brute?? (Oh yea, I've got your number now, you little turd!!)
Ty: Huh?? (as he recognizes the stink eye and begins to shrink)
Me: All those times you ask me..."Please don't tell HIM" and I help you work things out??
Hubby: Will someone please tell me what's going on?!?

Needless to say, when I did tell him, he was disappointed. Of coarse he was!! His longtime friend is leaving to fight in the war and I forgot to tell him about the going away party? What the hell kind of wife does that???? He was silent, and said he understands how things got crazy. He wasn't mad at me? I think I could feel less guilty if he were?? I almost cried. I could still cry!!

Then...my focus shifted...as I metaphorically declared war on my only offspring. It pains me to have to take my revenge, albeit only a little, but it has to be done. It is defining moments like these that draw that line. He knows the game is on now...just by the following statement.

Me: *Smiling like I've just lost my mind* Oh, and honey? Remember those earrings you bought that little girl in your class while we were in Mexico? (The ones you didn't want Dad knowing about because he would have teased you incessantly, you little adorable turd!) You might want to make sure those get into your backpack before school tomorrow, so you remember to give them to her.
Ty: (With a look that he now fully understands how deeply he wounded me, and fears that he will suffer for this choice for some time) Uh-huh...I will do that now.

Now would be one of those times where I must reflect back on happier moments with my son. Oh Wait!! I KNOW!! None of you had seen this post, because it was one of my first, but it's a good one to keep in my back pocket for just these moments. Temporary Coolness is highly recommended, along with deep breathing excersises, to maintain sanity.

Alright, this is my first official pre-written post.I'm going to see if I do this right, and schedule it to post at noon on Tuesday. If it works right...I'll be spacing in some other posts while I'm gone for the holiday (hopefully providing some sort of entertainment but making no promises).


As I sat at dinner with my boys last night, yes I'm including Hubby, I was stopped dead in my tracks about their similarities. Never mind they were both wearing the same sweatshirt (Go Placer) and hats. Their mannerisms were amazingly similar. I watch them and they are SO MUCH ALIKE!!!


Now, back when I only had 2 readers I may have mentioned that Hubby adopted Ty when we had been married 6 months. We had been together quite some time before that, but Hubby is the only Dad that Ty has ever known. I may vent from time to time, but I wouldn't have it any other way, let me tell you.


We started dating when Ty was 3 1/2, we actually met through this little guy. At the time, Hubby worked as a maintenance man at the same large company I worked at. The facility had an on-site day care, and when this company thought it would be brilliant to offer "extended hours", I was forced to have Ty in the day care until 8:30 pm. It wasn't all that bad, mind you. He was the ONLY kid there!! Well, that's when Hubby would make his rounds and rescue Snoopy from the toilet and fix whatever the kids broke that day, later in the evening. He used to let Ty follow him around and ask the perpetual "Whatchya doin? Why?? What for?? Why? Huh? Why??" ***Pssst*** Don't tell anyone, but years later I learned that Hubby had told the ladies at this day care that if he ever had a kid, he'd want one like Ty.


Well one day I'm dropping Ty off at the day care, Hubby comes walking up and says, "Hi Tyler, is this your Mom??" "Yep, this is my Mommy...Her name is Mawy" (yes, he had issues with his "r"s) "Mawy...I mean Mommy...this is aawon". That's my favorite quote ever!!!We didn't start dating right away. Shortly after meeting, Ty got pretty sick and was in and out of the hospital for a short time. I was new to my job and couldn't afford to miss too much. I would spend hours at the hospital and then go to work. Thank goodness for my sister, who at the time didn't work and lived 2 doors down from me. Every time I saw hubby during that time he would ask me, "Hey, Tyler's Mom! Is Tyler ok?" How nice is that? There were 1200 people in these buildings, 12 maintenance men, and he would ask about MY SON.


When the dust settled...about six months later...I asked him out. I remember the day I realized I should vividly. It was a Saturday (yes the company thought that would be "brilliant" also) and he came running by me by the elevators. Helmet under his arm and leather jacket in the other. "Hey Tyler's Mom!! Is he here today??" he asked. "He sure is!" I replied. "Great! I'll have to go see him." As he ran through the security doors, I watched him and thought to myself, "I will be with that man".


Now, you have to know me to understand that at that moment I didn't fully understand to what capacity I would be with him...just that I would. I asked him out a week later...and the rest is, well...you know...destiny.

I was all primed to post about a lovely time I had yesterday, seated at a table near 7 elderly women, all wearing holiday sweaters, and exchanging gifts.

It just made me think...I hope I get to grow old. I don't know if I necessarily want to wear a holiday sweater, but I want to be able to talk to my girlfriends about the way things used to be and the good old days, and mean it. These women were so sweet and appreciative of their little handmade gifts from eachother. It really made me feel good, and as I left, I went to their table and wished them all a Merry Christmas. I explained that although I was seated by myself, I thoroughly enjoyed their gift exchange vicariously through them.

All festive with the holiday spirit, I ventured into Blogthings and thought it would be fun to post another quiz. Of course, being my sarcastic self, I thought I would see what Crappy gift I would be (still reeling from Mrs. G's post about her white elephant gift) and look what crappy gift I am...can you believe it?? Oh well...

You Are a Christmas Sweater!

Over the top, colorful, and totally flashy. You're not afraid to be a little tacky.

I thought I was getting much better at this online blogging thing. I was actually even kind of proud of myself when I learned how to put pictures on (knowing I don't even have a digital camera). However, when my son came to me and asked if he could have a MySpace page I panicked.

Me: Ummmm....NO!
Ty: Why NOT? Alex and some of the others have one!!
Me: Ummmm....So?
Ty: That doesn't seem fair.
Me: You're too young, and the truth is...I DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT MYSPACE!! Is your homework done? (That one gets the subject changed every time)

Whew!! Crisis averted...for the next week...until the next time it comes up.

So, here I sit...re-discovering this internet world. I've been writing more, doing research, why not see what I can find out about MySpace? Well, what I've learned is that...I know nothing!!

It is a pretty cool networking tool (not telling you anything new I'm sure). I located friends from college, once I started my own page. That's a funny thing because then I felt compelled (obsessed) with trying to make my page look kinda normal. You know, like I didn't just stumble into the site? (Like I did) I don't think I've fooled anyone and again, I couldn't even do a search to find myself.

Ahhhhhh....the perpetual search of finding one's self...is it truly in a fortune cookie?? I don't think it's in MySpace...maybe it's just in MyCookie! Now there's a network!!!

One of my fellow rookie blogging buddies, dee/otc, is pregnant with twins, and "awesome" (that one's for your post Dee). As she chronicles her pregnancy, and size (she slays me with her humor, check out What is the answer?) she prompted me to recall how horribly rude and thoughtless people can be about large and/or pregnant women.

"The Question" = WHEN ARE YOU DUE??

"The Question" that launches emotions on so many levels, but has come to evoke such a negative connotation that people are (as well they should be) afraid to ask.

Here are the stages when it may not be wise to ask:

• Newly Pregnant - No one can visibly see the baby but you are still in the happy stages of the pregnancy. You actually TELL people and when they ask "The Question" you are thrilled to tell them.
• Poor Thing Stage - Now you are at that stage. People who perhaps haven't seen you in a while, start to suspect something is up. You poor thing, you must be putting on weight. You feel you MUST somehow work your pregnancy into the discussion so people know you're not just getting fat. This is the stage where you hope they ask "The Question" so you can put their mind at ease (and you feel better).
• I can't Wait Stage - You've made it past the looking chubby stage and that seed officially grown into a full grown melon. The problem with this stage is that people usually alter "The Question" or add to it by asking, "It must be ANY time?" When I was 7 months pregnant, a woman actually said to me "Oh my, you look like you are due any day!!" Yeah lady, I wish. You start to get most uncomfortable, and READY for this lovely cue ball to make it's grand entrance in the world.
• Just Popped Stage (aka Poor Thing Part DUH) - This one is really not a good time to ask a woman "The Question". Their bellies tend to go back to where they were at the Poor Thing stage. If she happens to be in the store, heaven forbid without the baby, she won't have proof she's just been through it. Not to mention, her hormones are all over the map with a little one turning her nipples into grated cheese, her organs trying to smush back to where they were before, and let's not forget the lack of sleep thing.
• Nope, I'm just FAT Stage - This one is my personal favorite. Why, you ask?? All of these stages I have personally experienced, but I have lived with this one the longest. There is a woman that works at a specialty shop that I frequent once a month, or so, that asks me EVERY TIME I go in to the store. (Really, since I've been going there for a couple years now, you would think I would have a whole litter by now!) The first time I was absolutely horrified because there were men and their sons at the counter. I just told her "Not for a while". That was a mistake because then she wanted to know more, do you know whether you are having a boy or a girl? Have you picked out names? How does your son feel about it? OMG...SHUT UP LADY!! I couldn't get out of there fast enough. From then on, I explain it simply with, "Nope, I'm Just FAT". It actually works pretty well, given the horrified look I get in return. They're painfully embarrassed, and I feel better already. (does that make me evil?)

Want to know the funniest thing about "The Question"? Most men wouldn't be caught dead asking it. Women of the world should feel proud that we have shamed them enough to know better.

So, how is it that it is the WOMEN who are so ignorant to still think "The Question" is okay? Are we in some secret society that I forgot about? Do these same women also subscribe to the "It's OK to Rub a Stranger's Belly Club"? If that is the case, is there an Unsubscribe button for these clubs???

Please...PLEASE direct me to that link!!

I'm afraid it would be my luck, however, that once I found the link, and clicked it, it would take me to a site that reads:

Thank you for requesting to unsubscribe from this club. Unfortunately we are unable to honor your request due to the volume of other women who fail to exercise their "clue" clause. We appreciate your continued patience.

Figures!!!

As the mother of a middle schooler, I find myself faced with the quandary I'm not sure my parents thought about when I was in jr. high. Will I effect my child's "coolness"?

I think my parents, as most parents do, took great joy in doing things that they knew would intentionally embarrass us as children. I now have friends that I know still derive great pleasure in knowing it is "their turn" to humiliate their kids. I guess it's some sort of right of passage, so to speak.

I try to be very mindful of what could be misconstrued as "not cool". Not that my child has to have the best of everything, because let's face it, who can afford that? But middle school is TOUGH!! This school is 5th through 8th grade, and he's in 6th. I know it's important that he be allowed to make his own way, in order for him to grow. However, kids can be cruel (I know I would NOT want to live middle school, or jr. high, again) and my son doesn't need me contributing to any detriment in his character.

So, as I try to let my only child grow and find his way, I find myself torn between wanting to smother him with love, and give him all the space he needs. If he's to be determined "cool" or "uncool", it's not going to be because of something I did. Every parent wants their child to feel confident, whether they fit in or not.

At the same time, as the kids try to learn who they are, I know they can be hurtful and sassy in their comments and attitudes. Heck, it's amazing my eyes didn't stick in the back of my head as much as I rolled them as a teenager. My son's shield of rebellion, for the sake of rebellion, has yet to reveal it's true shade but maybe if we tackle it a little along the way, it won't be as painful as what some parents experience.

Well, let me tell you about a GLORIOUS moment that happened to me tonight. My son has a friend having a sleep over, and we're on our way to the house, Son, Me & Friend. We are all rocking out to Nickelback, together. We're singing the songs and dancing in the car together. Then...one of the coolest things ever said to me by my son happened:

(end of Rockstar song)
Me: Ok guys, this was just a very cool moment for me.
Ty: Why?
Me: Because all three of us were rocking out and singing the same song, TOGETHER! This is very cool. I know the words to one of YOUR songs. I think this just made me kinda cool for just this moment.
Ty: (after a short pause, looks at me and places his hand on mine) You're always kinda cool, Mom.

OMG!!! I almost stopped the car immediately!!!!!!!!!!! Ok...keeping my composure even as I type. It played in my mind over and over, and five minutes later (because it takes us 20 minutes to get to our house from anywhere) I turned to him and said, "I'm pretty sure this is going to be one of those moments I keep with me forever. That was about the sweetest thing you've said in a long time, and I thank you."

I was so excited, I couldn't wait to get home and immortalize the comment. I realize that, like a letter to my boy, he could some day read this and truly understand the power of his statement. Don't get my wrong...my son is no perfect angel. But I'm going to relish this moment, and now I have it in writing, to remind me not to kill him later when he forgets to clean the cat litter or hides dirty socks in his gear bag. I am SO LUCKY!!