smiling eyes

When it comes to the selfie game, most of this circus act has it down to a science. Now don’t hate on the selfie. Were it not for the art of the selfie some of us wouldn’t even be a part of their own narrative…ahem…because they almost always are behind the camera. Here under The Big Top, we love the selfie and love to share with one another a selfie or more while making great adventures away from home.

Bill helped Jodie move back to Arizona this weekend and the two of them, as promised, kept me updated with pictures so that I can in a small way be there with them.

Currently this will be my favorite picture of these two and I made sure to tell my darling husband so.

His selfie game is improving; and yes, he was smiling with his eyes…and that makes all the difference, my darling husband.

When he gets home I will try to explain why he must never use “smize” in a sentence again.

lane changes and birthdays

You know that funny knobby thing on the left hand side of the steering wheel in your car? Do you know what it is? Do you know what’s very special purpose is? Well, allow me to enlighten you.

IT’S A TURN SIGNAL!!!!

It’s a way to let people know that you are going to turn left or right.

Amazing!

Truly.

Use it!!!

Friday afternoon commuting from the Bay Area to the Central Valley is basically nothing less than a cluster fuck. Basically. Coming home my darling husband was in an accident. I might have to give thanks for the slow crawl down from the Altamont into Mountain House because when a driver to the right of him decided to suddenly move to the left without signaling, he was not moving too fast. But he was traveling fast enough to not be able to get out of the way in time and…his hand, YES, HIS HAND hit the driver’s side mirror of the car. He broke her mirror, minor damage was sustained to his bike and one of his fingers was injured. Information was exchanged. The driver gave first aid with a pressure dressing applied to his hand, which was bleeding quite a bit. Oh, and it was her birthday. Happy birthday to her, right?!

Darling husband, being darling husband,got back on the bike and rode 25 more miles home.

Honey, I need you to look at something for me…spoken oh so casually as he showed me his left hand wrapped in a giant wad of paper towels tied up around his hand with a latex glove.

What in the world??!!…

I cut away the glove and begin to unwind the towels to see active bleeding and a very swollen, black and blue pinky finger.

Do you think I should get it checked out?

Off to the ER we went. For those keeping score, this is the third trip to the ER for this family in 2016. Seriously, 2016 is just all around not working.

X-rays, exam and 5 stitches later, we are home and my darling husband right now is oh so elegant sipping his ice cold beverage.

Pinky up y’all.

It could have been bad, bad, bad, bad. But it wasn’t. My darling husband is well aware of that as he practically apologizes to me reminding me just how careful he is on his bike on the road. For now, I will just be thankful and focus on this moment 24 hours later.

Bill turned 53 this week and today our family circus gathered together and celebrated.

That funny, knobby thingy on the left hand side your car’s steering wheel? Use it!

from PokemonGo to the Holocaust to living in tents

When it comes to raising our children, we all have goals along with our wishes and hopes and dreams for our children. Mine is very much influenced by my upbringing and past, as well as current relationships with some family members.

To my family who follows my blog, yes, this part might be about you…then again, you might be wrong in assuming so.

As a mother, one of the biggest things I wanted to nurture in my five was to think for themselves…forge their own opinions…express those thoughts and opinions. I wanted them all to know that their thoughts are their own and are definitely okay, in fact, they are perfect because they are theirs. I also wanted them to understand that they are well within their right as a thinking person to express what they are thinking…even if it disagreed with someone else’s…even if it was Mom or Dad’s. Especially if they disagreed with Mom or Dad. Of course there was the proviso that they must be respectful and kind because it’s Mom or Dad, or their friends, or their teachers, or any other thinking human being because I was also trying to instill in them the importance of, well, The Golden Rule. Be kind. Be respectful. Anyone who truly knows me would likely understand why this was important for me to have for my children. Yes, yes, yes, this has made my parenting adventure rather challenging because my five are fierce and very much strong-willed; kind of like their Mom and Dad.

Yes, Hollie, we were cursed as children too.

But, in spite of the years of challenges, I like that my five are fierce and I like that they can think for themselves and can and do, almost all the time, express their thoughts and their opinions.

In the news recently was the request for people to stop playing PokemonGo in The Holocaust Museum. “Playing the game is not appropriate in the museum, which is a memorial to the victims of Nazism,” Andrew Hollinger, the museum’s communications director, told The Post. “We are trying to find out if we can get the museum excluded from the game.”

What’s The Holocaust, Mom?

And so began a conversation with my 14 year old about what The Holocaust is and what happened to more than 6 million people just because of their religion or ethnicity or sexual orientation at that time and he interrupts me drawing a comparison to a certain candidate. His thoughts. His thoughts based on what he sees and hears and reads all around him. His thoughts expressed. I shared his thoughts (no names mentioned) with friends and family on Facebook just like that because, wow, that. My son’s thoughts. Thus began commentary and conversation, as we often do on Facebook and other social media platforms; which, in my opinion, is more than okay. Agree, disagree, more than okay. Just be kind…on my personal space because we absolutely, positively can agree to disagree on pretty much anything as long as we are at the very least respectful. Don’t believe me? Ask my darling husband. Well, except that he believes Pepsi to be a superior soft drink over Coke. Oh my darling husband!

Take note here, don’t blast my Facebook wall telling me Coke is not better because it is. Okay, fine, you can. Just be kind. I might not agree with you but that doesn’t mean that I have been decieved or tooled by the media because, I promise you, I am absolutely smarter than that…so are my Fierce Five. We don’t have to agree. We both can look at one another’s opinions on just about anything and think to ourself, what the actual fuck?…I do it literally ALL THE TIME looking at some postings of some family and friends on Facebook and then I move on because BABIES! KITTENS! AMAZING VACATION PHOTOS! FUNNY VIDEOS! And I move on because we don’t HAVE to feel the same way about current events or who we believe will make America great again. And yes, this is a beautiful thing for me and for the beauty of America where we can still think freely!...Isn’t that ironic?

motherhood changes you.

No kidding, says every mother ever. I could state the obvious changes…your body, your sleep, your privacy. Instead let me share with you one way that motherhood changes you that one never really considers before motherhood.

It’s the middle of the night and you are startled by a blood curdling scream. You’re not asleep yet, of course; still you’re not expecting to hear screaming in the middle of the night. Your 22 year old, 20 year old and 14 year old children are thankfully beyond the middle of the night crying and screaming phase in their lives…at least you thought so…until you heard screaming coming from your daughter’s room. And while your darling husband softly snores in his slumber because of course he doesn’t hear your child screaming in the night, you quickly get up to see what is the matter.

There she is, your darling daughter in the kitchen pointing in the direction of her bedroom.

Oh my god! A giant bug jumped out at me!

You might have rolled your eyes. Still, you’re mom, so you step into her bedroom and…

OH MY GOD!!!

Literally.

On her nightstand was a giant bug, slightly bigger than my thumbnail. Don’t ask me what kind of bug. It was BIG and had lots of legs and antennae and brown and BIG. OMG, it was big. I was not about to get any closer to investigate.

Can you get rid of it, Mom? Please.

Standing outside her bedroom she pleads with me.

Rolling my eyes again, thinking to myself, Are you kidding me??!!

But I am a mom and my darling husband continues to snuffle deep in his slumber. Neither Abby or I will be getting any sleep as long as that giant bug is in her room. But how because grabbing it with a tissue is not going to work.

It might touch me!

Mom that I am, I deal with it.

And there the bug remained until my darling husband came home from work at the end of the day because rescue my daughter from the scary, big, ugly bug I will do but I wasn’t about to get any closer. In the light of day, Bill could dispose of that bug…far, far, far away from The Big Top.

 

 

because we’re like that

I’m thinking of getting a new tattoo.

Of what?

The family coat of arms.

The WHOLE thing?

No. Just the lion with the spear…

With the impaled severed head.

Yeah. I think it will be cool.

A mural crown gules a demo-lion supporting a spear erect, on the point a Saracen’s head, all proper, the head wreathed silver and azure” because Scarboroughs are like that.

Thank you Steve at One Sixteen Tattoo for making my darling husband’s Father’s Day wish come true.