DeputyDelirium

I am an organized person. I am a creative person. I am a person that relies on schedule and routine. Generally. For some reason this year I have become unorganized, more overwhelmed than usual, and extremely ADD. Not what you think, it's the "Adult Dug Disorder". You know, the dog in the movie "Up", the one that has a special collar that allows him to speak and really wants Carl to know how much . . . .SQUIRREL! Yeah. That's me. I start one thing and *poof* a squirrel catches my attention and away I go . . . . like right now when I am totally off topic from where I wanted to be.

Anywho, I have thrown some pretty cool parties. For multiple occassions. I have had a homemade pie contest where I actually made bronze, silver, and gold spatulas for the winners. I helped mastermind a red carpet event for my Girl Scouts and their Build-A-Bears complete with awards to the pets. (yes, I believe that my daughter's pet won the most glitzy award) I even had this event catered with finger ham and chesse and peanut butter and jelly finger sandwiches and mini pies. There was a backdrop for pictures to be taken and sunglasses for all. I have done numerous birthday parties. From lady bugs to arks, and my personal favorite just 3 years ago; Atalie's "Orange You Glad I'm Turning 7" party where *everything* was orange. I requested the guests to dress appropriately. Orange is Atalie's favorite color and I was pressed for time. Don't judge. My Halloween parties are the best, at least *I* think so. Our 4th of July get togethers are a blast (hardy har har) with food for more than an army, fireworks that could have sent a child to college had we saved the money, and gift bags complete with all of the garb a child could need to celebrate with style. Not to mention my kids' Valentine's Breakfast. Heart shaped pancakes served by Greg and a friend, crafts, swapping homemade valentine cards . . . oh yes, I love a good party. I love the planning, the creating of invitations, the decorations, the food, the guests, and the love I feel from friends and family when my efforts are noticed.

2010 has wiped me out. On December 29th, 2009 my teens had their friends over for a New Year's Eve party, yes, early. We did a taco bar and I bought markers for them all to use to draw on our walls in the playroom upstairs. It's an unfinished room so it was fine, and they did a nice job. They played Wii and other games and at somwhere close to midnight we had fireworks. Well, crackers. Close enough in my book. Everyone had a great time, one of Colleen's friends even told me that I 'rocked' and gave me a high five. (she's awesome) So why is it that I am now into the 3rd birthday party of the year and I am struggling to get energized for it? My teenagers have given up on me. I think I peetered out on them 2 years ago and have just had their friends over for some fun, with the exception of Colleen's sweet 16, which we had a professional banner made for and hired a clown and face paniter etc. yeah, it was the bomb. But now I am about to celebrate the lives of my 10 & 12 year olds and the piddlefartty person in me is asking them, "why don't we just do a pool party in the backyard and a campfire with hotdogs and smore's?" Their birthdays are 7 and 17 days away from now respectively! I feel like a terrible mom. I used to be so good and now I've lost the juice. What happened to me? Blech. I'll let you know how the parties go down. Pray for my 5 year old, his birthday is in November. Maybe I should start thinking about that one now.

If anyone finds my party Muse wandering around out there, could you redirect her to my house? My family would appreciate it muchly.

uh, are you still fixated on the word piddlefartty? just ask me , I'll tell.

Many of you saw that I had a really hard time blogging about friendship yesterday. It got a bit messy and emotional, as will happen when thinking about one's friends. Past, present, good and bad. (and yes, there are some not so good friends out there) Today I have conquered those emotions and have taken a different direction, still saying what I wanted to say. I think.

I remember in grade school, at dear old Parson's Elementary, that I had a hard time with which came first. The 'i' or the 'e'. I still have a hard time with that one and fall back on the "I before E except after C" rule when spelling something. It's one of the very few 'rules' in English that somewhat makes sense to me. But that is another blog. A kind, yet oddly smelling, teacher leaned over my desk one day and asked me why I was so frustrated in my spelling lesson. I told her I couldn't figure out the "i" and "e" thing in the word friend. She told me that the spelling is much like the person, a true friend is there till the 'end'. "Friends to the end" she said. I've remembered that for these some 20 years. (okay, who am I kidding? these some 30 years)

Dictionary.com defines the word friend as: "A person whom one knows, likes, and trusts." and Webster's Dictionary says a friend is: "the scarcest thing on earth. A rare visitor, but he can come around a few times in a lifetime."

Do you agree?

In my opinion one of the most key components to a true friendship is the shoulder. As defined in the dictionary in it's verb form, shoulder means: "to carry or place, to take on or assume." So, a friend's shoulder is there to cry on, to lean on, to bear another's burden, to lift, and to support. Maybe even to push on every now and again in the fits of laughter or to point in the right direction. If you think about it for even a tiny bit more you can think of other uses for the shoulder in a friendship. If our shoulders were not strong how would we be able to carry all of those shopping bags we acquire while we are out with our freinds spending quality time together? And what area is extremely important in lifting the spoon from a banana split or piece of rich cheesecake than the shoulder? We can also tend each other's children by holding a crying baby or pushing a toddler on their bike, freeing our friend some time to spend with their spouse or just to rejuvenate.

What do you consider 'friend' traits? Are *you* a good friend? Would you be friends with yourself?

I've learned that I have many acquaintances and few friends. But, after a long internal battle, I'm okay with that. The ones who have gotten to know me and love me anyway, who let me cry then tell me to get back in the game, the ones who can go to my cupboards and get themselves a drink, the ones who make me feel beautiful without make up, the ones who stick by me when they could easily turn their backs, the ones who are sarcastic with me and whom I don't feel like I have to be something I'm not; those are rare, and I am ever so grateful to have them. Both near and far, ones that I have gone many places with, and those I have yet to meet. I am very lucky to have you.

Take care of those shoulders friends, you never know when they may be needed!

Today's chore for me ended up being Blogtastic. The dreaded unfinished, uninsulated, unorganized playroom. We have some very important people coming to our house on Sunday and I would like them to see that we can sometimes not live like pigs in a pen. I know they'll love me no matter what my house looks like, but still, I'd prefer my home to be on it's best behavior.

I wish I had thought to take a 'before' picture and an 'after' picture so you could see exactly what a workout this chore was. I swear, I should have lost at least 3 pounds with all the bending and lifting and throwing I did. Alas, that was not the case. Bummer. However, I did get to have a little fun with a trunk full of Legos. No, I did not build fabulous buildings, I took them from 2 small buckets and one *HUGE* bucket and combined them into a cedar trunk. Let me tell you what a fight it was, as I was separating millions (and NO, this is not an exageration!) of tiny pieces, to *NOT* put each color Lego into it's own container. No kidding . . .I was shaking by the time I was half way through the project! It took all the self control I could muster to keep them all together in one place. Because, face it, if I had separated them by color then I most likely would have wanted to separate them by size or shape, and that would just prove how mad I am. Where would it stop? Which is more important to the Lego builder anyway? Size? Color? Fact of the matter is: Legos drive me crazy. They hurt when I step on them. They are a choking hazard. They end up in ridicuous places. And, by darn it, there are too many flippin' ways to organize them. And it's not like the kids care about any of these factors. They just want to play and be creative. Use their imaginations for hours on end, the one thing I do love about these toys. And when they are done, they just want to throw them willy-nilly into a container and be done.

So, I was very proud of myself when I had the trunk full of random shapes and sizes and colors of Legos. Now my brilliantly imaginative children can put them away quickly and easily.

Not that they will.

After I was done with the project I looked down at my success with a sense of pride and had to smile a little. But as I stood there something else flew into my head, hey wait! There are body parts and other things that could be separated out too . . .but I didn't. Instead I played a little game. I Spy. I know, a little crazy for a mom of 5 to be standing over a trunk of Legos playing a solitaire game of I Spy, still in her pajams no less at 2:00 in the afternoon. Don't judge me. Instead, be crazy with me and play along;

I Spy: 2 fruit loops. (really? how long have they been in there? gross!) 1 treasure chest, with gold in it even, 1 best friend to a pirate, 1 can of fuel, the weapon of an axe murderer, 2 doors, Oh! That's where the button is! No I can stop playing "Button, Button, Whose got the button?", a headless Chewbaca, a bodiless Spiderman, and more body parts than I feel comfortable counting.

Did you find it all? :) I feel very accomplished at getting the playroom more viewable. The rest of the house awaits. I wonder what other games I can come up with to entertain myself while I work . . .

(Colleen and Adam, the house may not be at it's best, but hey, I'm trying)

I love the movie "10 Things I Hate About You". In fact, my Aunt Sara and I can put the movie on mute and pretty much recite the whole darn thing. I have many favorite parts, but lately one has been sticking out in my mind.

For those of you not familiar with the flick, shame on you. However, I will overlook it and catch you up to the quote that cracks me up. Bianca Stratford can't date until her socially inept older sister, Kat, does. Kat doesn't care about dating and has an interesting detest for the opposite sex in general. Binaca is starving for a social life and has convinced Kat to go out with a guy a couple times so Bianca could be her natural self, a social butterfly. So, Bianca wants to go to prom, but Kat is against the whole thing and refuses to go. Bianca pleads to her father, who is an OBGYN and never lets the girls forget it, to let her go without Kat. Now, you are caught up to the conversation that has had me giggling on the inside for the past couple of days.

Walter Stratford: Do you know what happens at proms?
Bianca: Yes, we'll dance, we'll kiss, we'll come home. It's not quite the crisis situation you imagine.
Walter Stratford: Kissing? That what you think happens? I've got news for you. Kissing isn't what keeps me up to my elbows in placenta all day long.
Bianca: Can we, for two seconds, ignore the fact that you're severely unhinged and discuss my need for a night of teenage normalcy?
Walter Stratford: What's normal? Those darn . . . Dawson's river kids sleeping in each other's beds and what not?
Bianca: Daddy, that is so not . . .
Walter Stratford: I've got news for you. I'm down, I've got the 411, and you're not going out and getting jiggy with some boy, I don't care how dope his ride is. Momma didn't raise no fool.

At this point Bianca is completely frsutrated with her father and storms off.

So, Walter, I too am down. I know that when I see "Spencers" written on my grocery list that I need to get bananas. I know that when my kids ask to "spover" at a friend's, that they need to pack a toothbrush and clean clothes. I m gud @ txtin' 2 let kids know, 'u r l8!' and other similar phrases. When Colleen and Cameron see a 'big bird' they think that Greg and I are being too affectionate. As if!

I may have become my parents in thinking that my kids' music is 'just noise' and wonder how they can understand anything the artist is singing, or be repeating the same things my parents did when I was a teen;"did you brush your teeth? are you wearing deoderant? what time will you be home? who are you going to be with? will there be adults there? remember who you are! where are your manners?" etc. But I am grateful that when I am a bit confused with what is going on in my own home to the spawn I created and am raising to someday become me (ha, ha, ha!) that they are willing to catch me up. Keep me down with the 411 and whatnot. I love that they aren't embarrassed of me and still invite friends to come over. So I can show off my sick conversing skills. :)