Converting to Classy

I think it’s probably been well-established that I am no swanky-posh-elegant type of girl.

So when Barry and I went down to Minneapolis with friends this weekend, and stayed at the swankest hotel I’ve ever seen in my life…WELL.

I think I could change.

I can entirely get used to having to use a small ladder to climb upon a four poster bed with 500 pillows and fancy chocolates laid out for me each night upon my 50 pound robe.

I can also get used to laying in a granite tub that has a glass TV encased right in front of me. Hehe…and the blow dryer wasn’t even attached to the wall!

I fell in instant love with the top-hatted doorman who reminded me of Mr. Peanut. I especially liked putting my vehicle in valet parking. (Not a fan of tipping every time they open a door, say good morning, or freakin' cover your mouth if you sneeze…k. I kid. A little.)

Just so all y’all know…it was a crazy cheap deal on the room, but they get you with stuff like that NINE DOLLAR bottle of water that you’re so tempted to crack open in the room. And let me tell ya, I WAS tempted. I figgered it had to be laced with anti-wrinkle serum or some other magical youth concoctions, but don’t panic, internets…I let my good sense prevail. (And my hubby’s.)

Anyhoo. FABULOUS TRIP. FABULOUS COMPANY. FABULOUS SHOPPING. I’ll post photos of the UFC event we attended as soon as I can.

Louise, the lovely snake

You know it's summertime at the silly old Graham's house when the pets start arriving. And departing....

Goodbye Louise. You will be missed. Have fun back at the river and if you happen to see Susan or Luigi, please tell them we miss them too.

StrangeTales of a Hammock and a Girl

It probably happens every 200 years or so...
Or maybe when the stars align and the werewolves come out...
Or MAYBE it's because its Friday the 13th.

But let me tell you about the strange and unusual events that took place THIS particular Friday, June 13, 2008.
You see, the Grahams have a young daughter, aged 10.
Shelby has never been the independent type. In fact, you might call her a rather helpless minion. This is a child who still can't run her own shower, who looks in the living room when she needs a pot, and can't master toast.
But tonight.... that all changed.
It all started with a simple bet.
Mommy got a new hammock from Daddy. The hammock arrived clad in tiny, wrapped pieces, a thick, stapled, taped-up box and a multi-language 4-page instruction manual.
Shelby asked to spend the night sleeping on the hammock.
HAHAHA...right.
Jokingly, Mommy replied, "Sure my dear, providing YOU put it together."

"Okay".

And then it began.

And she trudged on throughout the night.

We sat in the living room and watched in awe. Oscar said it was better than a TV show.

And finally, it was over. She did it. She really did it. And we all had to eat our words. But Shelby, oh Shelby, you have sure raised the bar on your poor self!!

And everything I thought I knew, I now question. The world as we know it, has changed forever.

And I have me a fine new hammock.

15 Things I'll Never Do

1. Wear rubber boots with a skirt. Not ever.

2. Say no to an Easter Cream Egg.

3. Shop at Abercrombie and Fitch. I swear, those saleskids are zombie clones! (That’s why they keep it so dark and creepy in there!)

4. Attend a Tony Robbins convention. (He may also be some sort of alien creature, not sure…)

5. Watch a Rocky or Rambo movie marathon. Sorry husband.

6. Work at a hamburger restaurant because I freakin LURVE hamburgers. With bacon. So I will not work at a bacon restaurant either.

7. Stop wearing my disgusting gardening pants.

8. Wash my disgusting gardening pants.

9. Go pants or bra shopping with my BFF, Mary. And, I might add…I wish that upon no one.

10. Wish that I were ten again so I could convince everyone that I were marrying one of the stupid Doofus Brothers as I plastered his poster all over my walls.

11. Turn down a hug from the son who calls me beautiful sweetheart when he gets out of the van to go to school in the morning.

12. Admit to owning a Clay Aiken CD….oh, snap.

13. Dry clean my clothes. WELL…geez, I’m not a rich person. Does it look like I eat dinner at 9 or play the stock exchange? Gosh.

14. Eliminate meat from my diet. Y’all know how I love me a juicy meat cow.

15. Choose a Kashi granola bar over chocolate.

Spring Break in Minneapolis

HIGHS

-Six dollar shirts and eight dollar shoes in all their cuteness

-Bubba Gump Shrimp Factory STILL makes the best shrimp in the land

-Meeting the quarterback of the Minnesota Vikings. Ok, that’s Barry and Oscar’s high but can we all say HAWT???!!!! I think we had a moment.

-One word - I K E A

LOWS

-7 hours of driving with a bladder the size of a pea

-Oscar asking me where I got that fat part when I put on my bikini

-“Are we there yet?”…” What’s next?”… “Can I buy this, puhleeeeeze?...” over and over and over again

-Stopping for an extra night in Fargo without bunk beds in the room and having to sleep with farty, fidgety, kids.



AHHHH....it's good to be home. I will now attempt to lose about 17 pounds of bacon, shrimp, and cheesecake.

Pod Children

You know all those stupid emails you get warning you about the hazards or effects of a faulty product or a bad cold medicine or something heinously dangerous like that? Yeah, well here’s mine.

BEWARE!! Kids everywhere are turning into Village of the Damned children due to the ill effects of the Nintendo D.S.

They may cause your child to:

Search for a pot in your LIVING ROOM in which to cook mac n cheese.

Argue that China is a city ,not a country. (Of course, in her world, anything BFF says is gospel.)

Children will not only forget to practice their piano on a daily basis, they may forget they are even taking it.

Children will walk slower, pick their noses longer, and will certainly forget basic hygiene skills such as brushing teeth and washing hands.

They will stay in their pajamas ALL day with faces glued to small electronic device stopping only to smile when the said object gives birth to a REAL LIVE animal. (don’t even get me started on the REAL argument. And NO, taking care of a video game does NOT prove you are ready for a real puppy.)

Children will gravitate towards other children with like devices and huddle quietly for hours. Oh. Wait. I like that part.

So parents, if you love and care for your children, do NOT allow them anywhere near these satanic video game devices. And if your kids get twerked off at you for it, buy em a Popple or teach em how to make a mix tape. Kept me happy in the 80s.

Puppy Love

Oscar walked casually into the kitchen today as I was making supper and with furrowed brow, stated “Mommy, I love you more than all the places in the world. But I love Daddy more than all the universe.” He then walked out, as casually as he came in.

Moral of the story: I’m going to have to get rid of Daddy.

Flu-Zilla

Bragging about how healthy I am and how I rarely get sick has obviously come back to bite me in my easter-creamy-egg-dimpled ass.

Now, if you know me, you’re expecting me to blame someone. And trust me I’m tempted. I want to blame the snotty, disgusting, little school children who hork loogies into mid air when they sneeze or the yucky skating rink full of creepy, raging, viral, plague germs. But I’m above that, oh yes I am.

I recognize that it’s my fault that I haven’t washed my floors in a decade, or spent more than one night a week at home relaxing in two whole months. The fact that I have been existing on a diet of quarter pounders and easter cream eggs may also have something to do with it. Who knows.

I have lost my sense of smell so it’s okay that I no longer shower and the greasy hairdo I’ve acquired works wonders when you want it to stand straight up off your sweaty back.

I’ve learned to communicate with Barry using grunts and groans when I need soup, back rubs, or consolation ice cream.

I’ve now missed three days of school and am only today starting to feel a mere bit better.

My skin hurts. My hair hurts. I LOVE to whine.

Yes, I am the idiot-tard who brought this superflu on herself. But please, I still want yer pity.

Green is the New Black

So, I’m looking to save the planet these days. ALL BY MYSELF, since silly Graham Dad is busy with catching bad guys and watching UFC’s and stuff.

I already don’t use a dishwasher, bought some crazy efficient light bulbs and promise not to throw Styrofoam in the fire again. (sorry about that)

Now I just need someone to go to Bootlegger and buy me some of these super awesome bags I saw there the other day. They’re about ten bucks each and look sort of like this. PLEASE BUY ME ONE.

So yeah, I know, I have a long ways to go. But don’t we all? At least I don’t drive a Hummer.

Are You Smarter Than A Mommy?

I know you’re all sick of me talking about my little NHL’er so I promise not to mention my inability to contain my excitement OVER HIS FIRST BIG GAME IN STEINBACH ON SUNDAY…oops, are my caps on? I had no idea.

ANYWAYS, remember the other child? The one who I love to frequently embarrass and who thinks she needs a bra and a Gwen Stefani bustier?

Well, she LOVES board games and has become very competitive with Silly Old Dad and myself. We bought her “Are you Smarter than a Fifth Grader” for Christmas and have played it over and over. It’s actually quite challenging for the smarty pants that I like to think I am. I mean seriously, who honestly remembers the frontiersman who blazed a trail to Kentucky? That’s a first grade question!!! Or how many rays a starfish has? GRADE TWO, PEOPLE!

So, the first few times, I humbly had to admit that I, Silly Mother Graham, am NOT smarter than a fifth grader. And yes, it was painful. Even more painful was little Miss Thang’s decision to use it as her creative writing topic at school last week. Of course she couldn’t write about our lovely times with our holiday guests and their new babies or our new mini-van or our crazy tobogganing days! NOOOOO.

It’s a little disturbing. My own flesh and blood choosing to thoroughly embarrass her mother and even threatening to send her little write-up to the paper.

However, the reason I am admitting all of this is because, after days of sharpening my brain with puzzles, quizzes, and Grade 8 math…..

GUESS WHO DOMINATED FIFTH GRADE AND BEYOND LAST NIGHT?????

Yeah, I won the million dollars. No big deal.

Little scoundrel. Don't let her adorable face fool you.

Hockey Baby

This is our boy.

He doesn't just like hockey. He eats, breathes, sleeps, and dreams about hockey.

He may not be able to tie his own shoes yet, but he can name every team in the NHL and probably give you the scores of the last few games.

When he's not at hockey practice, he's playing hockey in our living room. He owns three hockey toques and has many pairs of hockey PJs. (Except for the Maple Leafs ones he got for Christmas that he refuses to wear.)

This morning I fed him breakfast and lunch in front of the TV where he sat wearing his lucky toque (that's the reason Canada won), his favorite hockey PJs, and holding his indoor hockey stick. FOR 3 HOURS. HE'S 6.

Of course, it WAS the Denmark/Canada game of the World Juniors. And apparently that's important. GEEZ, MOM.

Silly Wishes

Just a little free advice to parents of female up and comer tweens. DO NOT…I repeat, DO NOT allow them to write a Christmas wish list.

You see, well other little ten year old girls have visions of Bratz dolls and Nelly Furtado CD’s dancing in their heads, my little Shelby has:

Some kind of playstation or Nintendo thingamajiggy that is worth more than me having to sell one of her little kidneys. Yes, I am not above that.

A real live puppy. Yeah. Right. I hate dogs. She should’ve taken better care of the darn'd reptiles, Luigi, and Susan that I caught for her in summer. Now, THEY were cute.

Her very own website or e-mail address. HAHAHAHA….yeah, just so she can fall in web-love with a 60 year old naked/fat/hairy man from Utah who says he’s a 13 yr old boy named Logan who loves horses and High School Musical 2. He’ll then convince her to meet him at Chuckie Cheese. And then next thing you know, she’s got her very own picture on a milk carton. GAH….

A set of two-way radios or better yet…A CELL PHONE. It would be like a bad horror flick. Her and her BFF texting back and forth…”LIKE, OMG, hez SOSO HAWT”.

(excuse me whilst I go rinse the barf out of my mouth)

Luckily, she had a few other normal things like a CD/stereo system and some stupid Polly Pocket garbage. And that’s what she’s getting.

Barry and I are firm believers that raising your children modestly will teach them to grow up knowing the value of a dollar, and that materialism cannot buy love. So probably, we won’t need to sell vital organs or cancel our plans of purchasing a new Graham-mobile. We managed to keep our Christmas spending under our $500 limit and I must say, I’m darn’d proud.

Oh, and don’t even get me started on the list of our little Mr.G.I.Joe. I need a translator to understand all that Megatron and Laser Imperial Star Destroyer stuff.

Whatever happened to Barbie and Hot Wheels?