Gobble Gobble

Happy Thanksgiving Y'all! We, as usual, had the most dysfunctional fun our little family is capable of having. Let's just jump right in...

We were ambushed Wednesday night by a woman claiming she was trying to get the word out about her carpet cleaning company, and would we like her to clean a room for free in exchange for word of mouth?? Well...sure, why not? (Do you have anything that will get up dried eggs?)

Suckers. She sent in her "guy" who then proceeded to spend an hour trying to sell Shawn a $1500 vacuum cleaner.

(Note to lying vacuum salesmen: If someone accepts a free room carpet cleaning at 6 pm the night before Thanksgiving, they probably can't afford to buy a $1500 vacuum. Just a clue.)

I sweetly weaved my way through that one, channeling my inner Brenda/Tami and using my best Texas drawl to explain to the (lovely, I'm sure) salesman that Daddy works every single day of the week, and that we would actually enjoy spending time with him, so you could you please pack up all your "look-how-dirtyYOUR-vac-leaves-your-carpet" materials and get the hell out?

And he did. More on this later. I'm not done with Kirby Cleaning Services just yet -- BBB here I come!! (Oh, and that super-duty top of the line wet/dry vac? Didn't even come close to cleaning the egg stain, which is unfortunate for them.Might have changed the whole outcome of that visit...)

Anyway, that ordeal ended, Ninny arrived and we all had fun eating, laughing, playing and finally, sleeping.

And then. AND THEN....TURKEY DAY!!!!

That's right, MY National Holiday, to celebrate what a ginormous turkey I am!!

What? No parents or grandparents here for Thanksgiving? No prob, I'll take care of everything!

Let's see...pecan pie, 4 layer pumpkin cake, crispy-topped creamed spinach, cheesy corn bake,crust-topped broccoli and cheese casserole, sweet potato casserole, 2 kinds of cranberry sauce and hmmm.....what am I missing????

What's that? A Turkey? Well slap my mouth and call me Fred! Why didn't anyone mention a turkey?? Off to HEB!!

But not before I fix everyone Baked Apple Pancakes. Note to self: when grabbing handle of skillet that has spent 30 minutes in 425 degree oven, it's best to wear protective gear.

Yep, I pulled a big ole Johnny Tremain, and now my left hand is burnt and mangled. Not really, but there will be a nice little scar. Thank God for next-door neighbors bearing bottles of aloe...

Eventually we make it to the big meal , which everyone gobbles down. Except for Ryan, who was heard mumbling "gross" and "blecch" and "do I have to eat this???" and Jax, who just threw himself on the ground and went off on one of his classic Jax-Attacks. It really made me thankful for Prozac.

What else can be said? The Cowboys won, no one watched the parade, and Shawn and Ninny had a "smell my feet" war. Pretty much on par with every other holiday...

Shawn went back to work Friday, the kids and I went insane, and Ninny saved the day with bags of new clothes she bought the kids during the circus they call "Black Friday".

We pulled out a few Christmas items, read some books, put out some decor, and now I'm staring down the barrel of a day of cleaning and decorating with no escape plan for the kids (No Daddy, rain all day)...should be a lot of fun!

The Thing About My Family

We fight -- oh Lord, do we fight. We're loud and often obnoxious. We drink too much and talk about taboo topics (mostly sex, and mostly my Dad). But mess with just one of us, and you'd better watch out, because all that fight, obnoxious volume, and lewd convo will come reigning down upon you in a fury. So much so that we eventually learned to stop telling each other about bad boyfriends or bosses, out of fear that we may one day take our comments back, and that by then it may be too late. Just ask Shawn, he knows.

Anyway, after my post about Ryan's bike problems, they apparently jumped to action, emailing each other, searching online, and coming to the mutual agreement that they would take care of this bike issue (and if possible, the little boy who made the disparaging comment).

I, of course, did not find out about any of this until about 9:30 last night.

I originally received a phone call from Ninny at around 7:30 stating she was at the moment preparing to purchase a new bike for Ryan, and would a 20" one do?

"It says it's for kids 48" or taller, Amy."

"Well, that doesn't help us, Nin, 'cause Ry is only 42". Plus, I already posted a wanted add on freecycle, so please just save your money."

"Whatever, I'm buying the bike. What else, a helmet?"

"I guess so."

"Pink?"

"You know it."

Then 9:30 rolled around and we received another phone call, this time from Arizona, where Lea was busy searching craigslist.

"Hey, you can get a big girl's bike for $35 in Pflugerville," she begins.

"I'm not paying $35 for a bike, Lea Ann. I posted an ad on freecycle. I'm sure someone out there will respond."

"OOH! Here's one for $20!" (she's very good at ignoring me)

"Lea Ann -- Jennifer already called and said she bought one, so just forget about it."

"Well who was this boy who said her bike was stupid?" (did I mention we also all have a flair for exaggeration??)

"No, Lea Ann. We're not gonna put a hit out on a 9 yr old for making a COMPLETELY TRUE STATEMENT. Plus, Ry didn't hear him, so no harm done."

"Hmmph. Weeelll, here's one for $25 in Round Rock."

Hearing my exasperated sigh, Shawn pipes up from across the room: "What about Jax? Does anyone think about him?" (I've yet to break the news that I'm busy planning t o spray paint Ry's current Barbie bike black. He'll LOVE that idea.)

I convey his message to Lea, and she quickly begins her search. That's the difference between my two sisters: one will jump up and buy anything anytime, no questions asked. The other one? She'll let you know where YOU can buy the needed item for the least amount of money.


After we complete our conversation, I call my mom to brag about her two youngest offspring.

As she starts laughing, she says,"Yeah, Dad and I are online right now searching for a bike for Ry." Seriously.

"Oh my God, you guys are insane!"


"Well, Dad's over here saying we should get her one for our house, and then when she comes to visit, we can run along beside her like we used to do with y'all. Then I looked at him, and he said, 'Well, you can run along beside her.'" (The man is a 5-time heart attack survivor.Plus, they live on a hill. I'm not sure I'd be able to run next to her.)



"I can't believe all of you are this serious about getting her a new bike. It's really not that big a deal. I'm almost sorry I mentioned it. "

"Well, if you must know, Ninny put out a APB on the bike issue, I said we would all help get her a bike, but not to tell you so it could be a surprise. I love how they listen to me."

That's another thing about my family -- you might think there are secrets, but the real secret is that everyone knows what they're not supposed to. You'd think by now that we'd stop telling "secrets", but we're stubborn as well.

Non-secret-keeping stubborn little-boy-threatening bike-buying rednecks. That's us!!

Roberts Family Fun Time

So Lea Ann was in town this weekend, meaning we all spent 4 glorious days gorging ourselves on junk food, laying around watching tv, playing Phase 10 and napping.

Many fights were had, many names were called, but such is the case with my sisters and I.

The good news? Menana finally got her family portrait:

Here are a few of my faves:

The kiddos... The folks...

Big Daddy & his girls... Lea & Ry...

How hot is my mom??? 3 perfect bitches...

Brother Man... ...with his Daddy...

Me & my gorgeous girl... Walking away...

AND, Coming Soon to a Christmas Card near You:

... & A Shitty Night's Morning

Jaxson better start sleeping through the night soon, and Ry needs to cough up whatever's still hanging out in her chest from the cold she had last week, because if we don't get sleep asap, there WILL be blood shed.

Last night was torture, up and down all night long, and this morning we paid dearly.

Yelling, hitting, pushing, whining...and that was just me.

The highlight had to be, after yelling at Shawn, turning around and telling Ryan, who has Family Career Day at school, "When you talk about Daddy and his job, make sure you tell them how mean he is to Mommy."

To which Shawn rolls his eyes, calls me a name, and asks Ryan, "Do you believe that, Ry? Do you really think I'm mean to Mommy?"

"Yes."

Score 1 for Mom. Victory was bittersweet, though, seeing as how Shawn slammed the door so hard when he left that stuff fell off the walls.

Score 1 for Dad.

We're goin' on VACAY!!

And it couldn't come at a better time. What with the week we've been having...Jax's monumental tantrums at every store he's been to this week (you know, the kind where strangers approach offering him candy just to get him to shut it -- I'll be venting about that later), Jax pouring out the contents of our coffee can into Lola's water bowl (maybe he knew she had a long night?), Ryan's mood swings, and my late nights staying up hand crafting presents and cards for the gazillion people we know whose birthdays fall in July -- it got so bad last night that I ended up setting the coffee maker for Shawn this morning, and forgot to add the water. Plus, we've been operating with only one working toilet this week, and I forgot and used a wrong one last night, so I really need to vamoose before Shawn finds out.

Like I said, a few days away should do us some good. Or do us in. Either way, it'll be exciting.

South East Texas, here we come!!!

Cleaning with Children

First of all, that's a paradoxical statement if I ever heard one. Second, I never knew how fun it could be, given you use the correct materials. Clarification? Non toxic, organic, Greenpeace -certified cleaning crap.

I love the Method cleaning line at Target. Not because I'm hell-bent on being earth -friendly (although I am), not because I'm worried about the health of my kids (although I am), but because the packaging is so pretty! I love the sleek design, the scented window cleaner, and the wood wipes work wonders on my otherwise uncleanable wood floor(plus, when I'm done with the bottle, I can take the wrapper off and use it for something else -- what, I'm not sure, but it will most likely come in handy some day...)

That said, after yesterday, I love them even more for the one reason I should have loved them in the first place : non-toxic. Why? Well, you would sing the praises of non-toxic cleaning supplies, too if a)your 2 yr-old excitedly licked the dinner table every time you sprayed it with the all-purpose kitchen cleaner, and b) amidst lectures and warnings to only use the wood wipes on the wooden table, you turn to find your 5 yr old wiping her face with one of them.

Like I said: it's all about the non-toxic, baby.

Who Says You Can't Go Home?

Just got back from a road trip with Menana this afternoon. I've been desperately needing to visit Honey and Pappy, and I am fortunate enough to have a husband and MIL who were more than willing to watch the kids so that I could go. (Of course, now Jax wants nothing to do with me and Ryan's spending her 2nd night straight at Ginga's, but who's complaining?)

We stopped overnight Friday in Tomball and stayed with my very own Mrs. P, who welcomed us with open arms and lots of vomit. (She teaches 2nd grade. There was a bug going around. You understand.) Luckily, the ralph-fest didn't start until much much later in the evening, so we were able to get food, drinks, and chatter in long before she took her leave.

We went to out usual chow spot, El Corral, which I insist we eat at every time we pass through town with the hopes of running into my old frind Ed whose family runs the place. You know how sometimes there are just people you connect with? He's one of mine. Anyway, I finally got to see him and had such a good time talking about his family, gabbing about mine, and making plans to meet again. Chaika met up with us a little later on, which Shah was supposed to do as well, but skanked out on me at the last minute. Whatever, I got to drink so all was forgiven.

We did the girl thing and talked and talked and talked...and talked until after 1 am. I love that part of being a chick. I don't even remember what we talked about but I was happy and stress-free for a consecutive number of hours, and for me that's pretty freakin' fantastic.

We took off the next morning for Port Neches, and when we finally arrived, the flood gates opened. It's so hard for my mom to go home and not have her mother waiting for her at the door, and it's so sad to see Pappy all by himself, much less to later find that he no lnoger sleeps in their bed, and now wants us to try and take any of her things we may want before he begins selling it off. She's still with us, but he's accepted that she's not coming home again....I can't even imagine. They've been with each other since they were kids.

The tears came in waves, but in between there was a lot of laughter. My favorite part was when Pappy saw that his next door neighbor had let their dog shit on his lawn. Again.

"No problem," he said. "This happens all the time. I just throw it back onto his yard." At which point he marches into his garage to get his "shit-throwing" stick. He's so into it, too -- making noises, shooting little dog-poo torpedos as far as they will fly. And they did fly. One flew it's happy little ass all the way onto the neighbor's roof.

"Oh shit, Pappy! You just threw the poo on their roof!"

"What was that?"

"The poop. It landed on their roof."

(chuckle) "Well whattya know? Wonder how that dog got all the way up there..."

I LOVE this man.

Seeing Honey was hard, and I knew it would be, but there's just not really anything to prepare you for the tidal wave of emotion that washes over you as you first catch sight of the woman who used to sing to you and read to you and cook for you, now laying paralyzed in her bed. That's hard, man. That's hard.

She's still got some of her fire, though. She's got no qualms about snapping at us that we're being too loud, or telling Pappy to get a move on with her food, or informing you that she loves it when her sister visits, but that"she talks too much." She's got that wit and that's what I remember, that's what I take with me. She's still in there, underneath the weakened legs and limp figure, she's still givin' us hell.

There's a woman across the hall from Honey who I can't stop thinking about. Her name is Mrs. Theriot and she just had her leg amputated after the doctors found gout in her big toe. She's in so much pain and shock -- asking us "Why didn't He just take me?" and showing us her stump, crying, "This is all they left me. This is it." I'm tellin' ya -- if you have any ounce of faith or spirituality in your body, please send up a prayer for Mrs. Theriot -- she's gonna need 'em.

So anyway, we spent the rest of the time catching up and going through stuff in the attic and in drawers and closets...it's just so weird. I know I'm bringing you guys down, but I can't get it out of my head...

But now we're home, the kids are well, Shawn's sleeping on the couch, and I've got a kitchen full of dishes to tackle. Ohh! I almost forgot -- Welcome to the World, Beckett Moore! My girl Lyndsey had her first baby and I'm so happy that now she'll be able to begin suffering with the rest of us...:)