Beaux: "Spruce! Wouldn't you just LOVE this broken car?! It's your favorite color, WHITE! The color of duckies!"
Spruce: "Oh, cooooo-wah" ("Cool" for the lay-person)
Beaux: "Wouldn't you LOVE to trade me this car for those two new one's you have?!"
Spruce: "Shuwah Beaux! I would wuv to!"
Suckah.....
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
Beaux on Death
Beaux: "Momma, why don't we go see Mrs. Francis anymore?"
Me: "Well, sweetie, Mrs. Francis was very sick and she died and went to go live with Jesus."
...three months later...
Beaux: "Momma, why does Mrs. Tillette have two beds in her bedroom?"
Me: "One of the beds belonged to her husband."
Beaux: "I've never seen him. Where is he?"
Me: "Well, he was really sick and he died and went to go live with Jesus."
...one month later...
Beaux: "Momma, why is Nana crying?"
Me: "Because she misses her dog, Barkley."
Beaux: "Where is he?"
Me: "Well, sweetie, he was sick and he died and went to go live with Jesus."
Beaux: "Momma, I can't go live with Jesus... There are too many sick people there."
Me: "Well, sweetie, Mrs. Francis was very sick and she died and went to go live with Jesus."
...three months later...
Beaux: "Momma, why does Mrs. Tillette have two beds in her bedroom?"
Me: "One of the beds belonged to her husband."
Beaux: "I've never seen him. Where is he?"
Me: "Well, he was really sick and he died and went to go live with Jesus."
...one month later...
Beaux: "Momma, why is Nana crying?"
Me: "Because she misses her dog, Barkley."
Beaux: "Where is he?"
Me: "Well, sweetie, he was sick and he died and went to go live with Jesus."
Beaux: "Momma, I can't go live with Jesus... There are too many sick people there."
Friday, October 10, 2008
I'm Sorry, Mom.
I'm sorry I didn't send a card for Mother's Day. I know all you ever wanted was a simple card but it was the symbolism that you were always needing something more from me that kept me from mailing it. It was the stamp. I'm sorry, but it was the fact that hand-delivery wasn't as special.
I'm sorry for all the times I ignored your pleas for attention. Each time you would call with a 'I just need one thing' it would make me crazy. It was always 'just one thing' with you, but you never considered that each 'one thing' would add up to an entire afternoon of work for me. It wasn't that I didn't have time for you, it was that you didn't respect my time for me. You never understood why I just couldn't answer the phone sometimes. It wasn't that I was always that busy, it was that you made me crazy with your 'just one things'... I wish I had them back now. No matter how insignificant it seemed at the time, I would do it now in a heart beat.
I'm sorry I didn't take you places with me. It wasn't that you were too much trouble. It was that I was defeated every time I watched you self-destruct. It was like watching sands through and hour glass. Each moment was a fleeting chance that you would change your ways...but then it slipped away. Listening to you yell each time we went over a bump because you hurt would make me cringe. It wasn't that I wasn't sympathetic, it was quite the contrary. I felt helpless. I had done my best to be by your side through it all and yet it was all in vain.
I'm sorry I didn't answer the phone when you called. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk to you, it was that when you would call and were in good spirits, I was uplifted and defeated at the same time. I knew that it was only a matter of time before your next episode and I would find you in the floor again. It was the knowing that hurt.
And now, I am so sorry that I couldn't save you. Every time you had an episode, I had found you. I had saved you. You had laid there, in and out of consciousness, until I found you. The doctors would say, "She's not going to pull out of this one." But I knew you would. Because you had the same spirit I do. Telling us no has always been our driving force to press on. Insisting that we couldn't do something was like a dare. But now here I am. Helpless. You always said I was your angel...but now what?!
The past few years has been rough on us both. Once I gave birth, I realized what a gift it truly was and how you had squashed it. You didn't capitalize on the opportunity to be my mother. You tried, but failed due in part to your vices. You always had to have something to depend on and I guess ultimately, I'm mad that I wasn't enough.
So I am sorry. I am sorry for all the missed opportunities for me to show you grace. But ultimately, I am sorry that you missed me.
I love you now as much as I always have. You will be missed more than you would have imagined. This is hard, and it will hurt. But one day it won't be so bad. One day I will forget the bad times and focus on the good. I will remember you fondly as I tell the boys stories about 'crazy nana' and they will giggle. They will remember you well.
I miss you terribly and love you deeply.
Rest in Peace.
I'm sorry for all the times I ignored your pleas for attention. Each time you would call with a 'I just need one thing' it would make me crazy. It was always 'just one thing' with you, but you never considered that each 'one thing' would add up to an entire afternoon of work for me. It wasn't that I didn't have time for you, it was that you didn't respect my time for me. You never understood why I just couldn't answer the phone sometimes. It wasn't that I was always that busy, it was that you made me crazy with your 'just one things'... I wish I had them back now. No matter how insignificant it seemed at the time, I would do it now in a heart beat.
I'm sorry I didn't take you places with me. It wasn't that you were too much trouble. It was that I was defeated every time I watched you self-destruct. It was like watching sands through and hour glass. Each moment was a fleeting chance that you would change your ways...but then it slipped away. Listening to you yell each time we went over a bump because you hurt would make me cringe. It wasn't that I wasn't sympathetic, it was quite the contrary. I felt helpless. I had done my best to be by your side through it all and yet it was all in vain.
I'm sorry I didn't answer the phone when you called. It wasn't that I didn't want to talk to you, it was that when you would call and were in good spirits, I was uplifted and defeated at the same time. I knew that it was only a matter of time before your next episode and I would find you in the floor again. It was the knowing that hurt.
And now, I am so sorry that I couldn't save you. Every time you had an episode, I had found you. I had saved you. You had laid there, in and out of consciousness, until I found you. The doctors would say, "She's not going to pull out of this one." But I knew you would. Because you had the same spirit I do. Telling us no has always been our driving force to press on. Insisting that we couldn't do something was like a dare. But now here I am. Helpless. You always said I was your angel...but now what?!
The past few years has been rough on us both. Once I gave birth, I realized what a gift it truly was and how you had squashed it. You didn't capitalize on the opportunity to be my mother. You tried, but failed due in part to your vices. You always had to have something to depend on and I guess ultimately, I'm mad that I wasn't enough.
So I am sorry. I am sorry for all the missed opportunities for me to show you grace. But ultimately, I am sorry that you missed me.
I love you now as much as I always have. You will be missed more than you would have imagined. This is hard, and it will hurt. But one day it won't be so bad. One day I will forget the bad times and focus on the good. I will remember you fondly as I tell the boys stories about 'crazy nana' and they will giggle. They will remember you well.
I miss you terribly and love you deeply.
Rest in Peace.

Monday, October 6, 2008
Crotchety Old People Suck...
Steve had finally found the perfect house. It was all brick, with an open living room, dining room and kitchen and the enormous bonus upstairs! Absolutely perfect...except for the neighborhood.
He's adamant that I come to NC immediately to see this house. "It's a gem! It won't last long!"
"Sweetie, why are the HOA dues $110 per month if there's no pool, playground, or anything?"
"They say it's for yard maintenance. I don't know. It doesn't matter. The house is perfect!"
So I go. Well, WE go.
It's a damn retirment community. No joke. Nothing but crotchety people waiting to die. That's it. I point this out to him and his first response is, "Great! We'll have plenty of babysitters that are missing their grandkids!"
So I start my fact-finding mission...talking to neighbors. The first nice couple told me that their grandson would have someone to play with. The second old man yelled at Beaux for touching the mirror in the house that was for sale. The third old woman said that they don't allow play equiptment in the yards and that there was a wonderful house two doors down that we should check out. Every one of them kindly offered that there was a lovely neighborhood next door with plenty of kids.
Nice.
I hate crotchety old people. If you're going to be crabby, go be crabby in your own 'villa' and leave the rest of us alone.
He's adamant that I come to NC immediately to see this house. "It's a gem! It won't last long!"
"Sweetie, why are the HOA dues $110 per month if there's no pool, playground, or anything?"
"They say it's for yard maintenance. I don't know. It doesn't matter. The house is perfect!"
So I go. Well, WE go.
It's a damn retirment community. No joke. Nothing but crotchety people waiting to die. That's it. I point this out to him and his first response is, "Great! We'll have plenty of babysitters that are missing their grandkids!"
So I start my fact-finding mission...talking to neighbors. The first nice couple told me that their grandson would have someone to play with. The second old man yelled at Beaux for touching the mirror in the house that was for sale. The third old woman said that they don't allow play equiptment in the yards and that there was a wonderful house two doors down that we should check out. Every one of them kindly offered that there was a lovely neighborhood next door with plenty of kids.
Nice.
I hate crotchety old people. If you're going to be crabby, go be crabby in your own 'villa' and leave the rest of us alone.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Jesus and Santa
We always have the best conversations on the way home from church.
Me: "So, did you guys talk about Jesus in Sunday school today?"
Beaux: "Yeah."
Me: "Did you know Jesus was once a little boy just like you?"
Beaux: "Wealwy?"
Me: "Yes. He was a baby and grew up to be a man. He saved all of us."
Beaux: "So he and Santa were like me?"
Me: "Sure. Buddy."
I give up.
Me: "So, did you guys talk about Jesus in Sunday school today?"
Beaux: "Yeah."
Me: "Did you know Jesus was once a little boy just like you?"
Beaux: "Wealwy?"
Me: "Yes. He was a baby and grew up to be a man. He saved all of us."
Beaux: "So he and Santa were like me?"
Me: "Sure. Buddy."
I give up.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Kudos to Daddy
So the 'tropical storm' is officially here. Not much to report aside from a lot of rain and even more wind. In my opinion, it was nothing more than a good reason to have a spongebob marathon.
Steve saw it much differently. He got their swim suits on, grabbed the umbrellas and hit the puddles. They ran and played in the rain until the wind almost blew them down.
I took it as a perfect opportunity to have a cup of coffee in silence...
with spongebob on, of course.
Steve saw it much differently. He got their swim suits on, grabbed the umbrellas and hit the puddles. They ran and played in the rain until the wind almost blew them down.
I took it as a perfect opportunity to have a cup of coffee in silence...
with spongebob on, of course.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Much Improved
No tickets, no chips, no brown trout. Yes, today has been much better.
Now we're just waiting on a hurricane to move inland. Good times. :)
Now we're just waiting on a hurricane to move inland. Good times. :)
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