Whoville

Well, how was everyone's Christmas? Mine was good. I was getting a little worried that I wasn't going to get that feeling. You know, that "tingly-OMG-Christmas is almost here" feeling? It was as if the Grinch had visited my house and stolen Christmas.

The middle son and I both admitted last Friday that we didn't have it. It just didn't feel like Christmas. No magic. We had done all the requisite decorating, purchasing of the roast beast, oodles of presents, so many stocking stuffers they won't all fit, Christmas program attendance, lighting of the home etc. etc. etc. But, the feeling had not arrived.

Maybe it was due to the fact no one at my house believes in Santa anymore. Why is it that our whole goal as parents is to see that our children grow up, but when they do we are disappointed?

Then my parents came into town. On Sunday morning my mother went with me to church and helped me with my 4th grade Sunday School class. I am sure she got tired of me spouting off to anyone who would listen that "This is my mom!" (okay, she probably didn't get tired of it!). My mom is a very youngish 70 years of age but I know that our time is running out. Our time for "good times" is disappearing. Maybe we will have another 10 good years but I doubt it. How much longer will my 71 year old dad be able to make the 450 mile drive to my house? Our time together is gold to me. I don't have a sister and I don't have a daughter. My mother is my only female relationship that I have (other than friends) right now. I can always hope for a great daughter in law but there's no guarantee of that happening.

Our mother/daughter pedicures yesterday were sweeter when I know it could be 6 months before I see her again. My realization has made me a nicer person. I am a bit more patient with their quirks (which my brothers and I LOVE to belly laugh over - in fact I had my brother in tears doing an imitation of my mother just the other night!). But for all their idiosyncracies, they would give their lives for me and my brothers and honestly did their very best as parents...and they are mine. They are my safety net, my 24/7 cheer squad, my unconditional love. So, yes, Christmas arrived "It came without ribbons! It came without tags! It came without packages, boxes, or bags! " **

**from The Grinch.

The Poop Post

Due to an extreme amount of Christmas overload (I am tired of feeling like I MUST wear red or green!! And, people asking me if I finished my shopping) I am posting about something totally different. I am sure you will appreciate this little respite from the crazy holidays. So, sit back - grab yourself something to eat or drink, or, er, maybe not....

This whole detox/colonic cleansing/crazy shit thing is something that for some reason caught my eye this week. So, I consulted my medical practitioner (the Internet!!) so I could see what this is all about.

There are recipes galore out there - drinks with lemons, cayenne pepper, maple syrup, fast for 1/3/10/40 days (wouldn't I be dead after 40 days??) eat only raw food, etc.etc. all meant to cleanse your body of toxins. But, this site caught my eye. Only click on it if you truly have a strong stomach. These images will remain burned onto your retina forever....seriously, don't say I didn't WARN YOU. Click Here

These are pictures of what came out of people during their cleansing. People took pictures of their POOP. My eyes needed an opthalmic cleansing after that.

Do any of you believe in this? Did you know your liver does the same thing every 36 hours? I don't know that a day of fasting and drinking lemon water isn't good for you every now and then but don't go spend a ton of money on this stuff. But, I would love to hear from someone who does. Notice I said HEAR (as in comment) Please do NOT send me photos of your poop.

My Dumbass Sighting

The other day, while driving out of my neighborhood, a guy on a motorcycle was in front of me. I recognized him as one of the boys who used to live across from me (when I lived in my old house). He and his twin brother had dropped out of school a couple of years ago (he is maybe 19 now??) and would walk down the street with their charming pit bull to smoke all the time. Not sure what they were smoking but I can imagine...

Well, here I am following one of the boys on his motorcycle. When we hit the main road, he passed the van in front of him. Then I could see him stay in the left passing lane because there was some kind of big farm plowing machine thingy in the right lane and I knew he was planning to pass him too. I was preparing to make my left turn when I noticed something was weird about the kid. That's when I realized he was standing up on the motorcycle on one foot with the other back behind him! Performing the flying camel I believe. I gasped as I turned, realizing that he was going no less than 50 mph while attempting this homage to Evil Knieval.

Just as I turned, he lost control and I watched him do what looked like cartwheels across the road. He went one way and the bike went the other. Of course, by now I am screaming in my car because I just witnessed this horrific accident. Now, I have turned though and can no longer see him. My dilemma: I don't want to see a dead person. But, I am the only person who knows where this kid lives and so can give the address to mail his dumbass remains.

I turned around and went back. Miraculously, he was sitting up on the side of the road. The poor farmer guy was out of his big yellow vehicle and was concerned about the boy. I parked and got out. I asked the kid if I could go to his house and get someone. He said no one was home. He started dry heaving and while he did that I took note of the incredible road rash he now had on both arms. He'd had a leather jacket on but it had come completely off in the wreck. He asked for his phone so farmer and I started looking in the grass.

Farmer: "I don't know what happened."
Me: "Uh, he was STANDING UP ON THE BIKE!
Farmer: "You are kidding."
Me: "I wish."

We found the phone and pulled the motorcycle remains off the road. I believe the bike suffered more damage then the kid somehow. Then I told him I would take him home if he wanted. So, he got in my car muttering about how his grandpa was going to kill him.

That's when I told him that he was damn lucky to even be alive. And, that if I ever saw him on a motorcycle again, he'd better not be doing was I saw him doing AND he'd better put on a helmet!

Even in the short time we got to his house, he was groaning about his back hurting. I've thought about him over this past week and wondered how he is doing. I hope he realizes that he got a second chance. And, you know what? Not everyone gets that lucky.