My Pooh

My beautiful daughter, Ashleigh Denise. She has the soul of a gypsy flower child and the mind of Albert Einstein. I appreciate and am amazed by both parts of her. This girl is absolutely likely to do exactly opposite of what anyone else on the planet would do in any situation. I admire her fearlessness.

We've always referred to Ashleigh as the Pied Piper of our little family. Children and animals flock to her. As she has gotten older that effect seems to have carried over with adults as well. I think people can sense that sweet soul. Ashleigh is one of those rare people that sees people as a blank piece of paper and forms absolutely no judgements until after she gets to know them.

Ashleigh seems to be one of those people that can't be bothered by things that most of us are bothered by. I could learn a lesson or two from her when it comes to that. :) I would like for her to be more like me I think. I'm glad though that she is not. I'm glad that Ashleigh is Ashleigh.

Yesterday in the middle of my nap I got a phone call from Ashleigh telling me that she had lost her wallet somewhere downtown. I wanted to scream and laugh all at the same time. Ashleigh's wallet stays lost. The new thing about this is she has stopped "losing" it in the house and started losing it out in public.

She refuses to carry a purse--I think more to irritate me than any other reason. She'll deny this though. :) So I guess this says alot about her hard head, which I know she gets from me and my side of the family. She can't help it, she comes from a very long line of hard headed people.

Whether she is losing a wallet, painting a picture worthy of a museum, making a meal that would make a chef envious, or discussing physics or calculus she is never ever dull to be around. I love you Pooh!

Blinking

This precious one is my youngest son and baby, John Michael. He will be 10 next month--just typing that makes me feel a bit ill. I wish he was still two or three!!

In April 2000 I had shut the door on one part of my life and was literally flailing. It was like free falling without a parachute. The last week of April is Fiesta here in San Antonio and although I had lived here for three years I had never taken part in any of it. I partied like a rock star. John Michael was born January 30, 2001--do the math.

John John (I've called him this since he was a baby and he has told me recently he would prefer I didn't--sniff sniff) is funny, smart, sensitive & quirky. I think God knew these were all things I needed in my old age. :) He is most content at home with his legos, play station, and "stuff".

Today when I picked him up from his Dad I took him with me to Beau's basketball game. John loves to watch but I knew he wouldn't be thrilled with this detour to home. When we pulled up to the gym he could hear the game had already started and we speculated that maybe it was 1/2 over. We got in and sat down and the first thing John noticed was that it was the first period of the game.

This started the blinking. When John John is about to be very sad and cry he starts blinking like Snufflupagus. After I assured him that the game would be over in no time he was ok. Once it was over we went back to Beau's school to pick him up (he had to ride the bus back with the team). We beat them back and when we parked, more blinking ensued.

He managed to squeeze out two or three tears and then the bus showed up. Thank goodness! John gives me a hug and says, "Mommy, I just wanted to go home!" When Beau finally got in the van he announced he needed a soda--hence more blinking.

Hallelujah we finally made it home @ 7:20 pm. John Michael immediately shucked his pants and shirt and then set up shop next too his big container of legos. When he came to tell me goodnight just a bit ago he said he wanted me to know he just really missed me today. Now I'm the one blinking.

What Do You Read?

I love to read. I like to look at the cover of the book occasionally while I read and imagine the characters in my mind. I love the way an older book smells--sort of musty and papery. I always have a book or my sony reader in my purse. I don't leave the house without a book. This is what I do to relieve stress.

People who know I read come to me from time to time and ask me to recommend a book or what I am reading. I dread this question. I always dread this question. This is why, I read smut. The smuttier the better. I like pointless, predictable, smutty smut. I like for the covers of my books to have almost naked women with big muscular hunky men on the cover.

I don't read from Oprah's book club. Oprah doesn't read smut and therefore I am not interested. (She could probably benefit from a good old smutty book.) I don't care what is on the New York Times best seller list. Generally that list does not have smutt and therefore I'm not interested.

A co-worker stepped into my office today and asked me if I could recommend a series for her teenage daughter to read. Really? Me? You are asking me the queen of smutty smutt what I would deem an appropriate series for your teenage daughter.

The picture on this blog is the cover of a smutty book I have read. Notice naked Fabio--this cover told me this would be an engrossing smutty book and It was right!!!

Angel Baby

Anyone that has known me for any length of time has heard me refer to my brother as "Angel Baby". For me, this is a term of endearment. I absolutely adore my brother Jason.

An extended family member jokingly said one time that all families have an angel baby. One child that is the sort of center of the family and who everyone sort of floats around and tends to. Now, Jason may debate this with me but after hearing this I immediately dubbed him the angel baby of our family. I still think today that he is our angel baby. Me, Mom & Dad love him so much--our world would just not be the same without him.

My daughter Ashleigh and I had a conversation tonight about how the term angel baby came about. When I asked her who was the angel baby in our little immediate family she and I both at the same time said, "Beau"!

Beau is my middle child, my oldest son. He was born very early in the morning on May 9, 1996. His name is Jason Beau. Of my three children Beau is the most complicated. He is very much like his name sake--my brother--in that he has a very tender heart. When Beau was a toddler and pretty much until he hit middle school he could only be described as a terror.

Alot of that had to do with his personality but much of it could also be laid on the fact that his father and I separated when Beau was very young. If you asked him today what he remembered about when his Dad and I were married he would tell you that he has not one single memory of our life then.

Today, Beau can still be a terror. But he is also one of the funniest and most exasperating people I have ever spent time with. I absolutely love to be in his company. One of his most favorite things of all time is to get me riled up and irritated.

Beau is currently 5'10" and wears a size 14 shoe. Yesterday when we were out shopping the size of shoe came up. I was assuring him that he would more than likely grow into his feet and he came back with, "Mom, do you know what they say about people with big feet?" This question was scarey, I thought, great, here we go, this is about to get R-rated. I just looked at him, I didn't even ask. He came back in a very dead pan monotone voice, "They have big socks." I laughed until I cried.

I am so thankful for both of the angel babies in my life. Every family needs an angel baby!