Tuesday, January 13, 2009


OMG, how I hate senioritis. Why is it my children turn into, know it all’s and show it all’s their senior year. Do they seriously think after graduation they are knocked in the head with a blessing wand and all their wishes and dreams come true? As if mom and dad will pay for our bills, apartment, car, school, and we just have to have fun and go to class. Do they not remember who their parents are?

So, I get home from work last Friday after thinking about what to write for the blog and getting home before the kids so I can play Rock Band 2 and start dinner. Shell comes home and is surprisingly nice to me with the sweet tone in her voice that I don’t often hear these days. In my head I’m thinking OK, what do you want sistah and how much is it going to cost us.

Mom she says I forgot to give you this permission slip (plunk on the desk). It’s for a trip to the Body Worlds exhibit (several hours away from home) and all of my health science class will be going. It’s not sponsored by the school but my teachers will be driving us. Waiting, Waiting, I still haven’t heard the catch yet… wait, wait… BUT, we have so many kids that will be going we wont all fit in the teachers cars so I MAY need to drive with some of the kids. BAM, there it is.

All I could think about was the year I graduated I bought a (almost brand new) 1979 Camero Berlenetta. It was cool and I loved that car. My high school Boyfriend was a junior at Tech and it was time for their annual Martigras party. I told my parents I and two of my friends were going to drive down. I didn’t think anything of it then but now I can see my mothers face in my mind as we drove away and she looked completely terrified. She must have been praying the entire weekend for our safety.

Being a mother, wife, sister, niece, etc… can be exhausting at times. I had this revelation last night. We have as many pets in the house as we do people and it’s freaky how each of the pets has the personality of their owners. Frankie is our found kitty (she found us). This cat should have a safety helmet on (really), she’s very sweet, very demanding and is my husband’s cat. Belle is the sweetest cat we have, she’s sneaky, only requires, food, water, a clean cat box and plenty of petting. She also has this thing about sparkly stuff and this cat belongs to my daughter. The oldest cat is Chandie. She is sweet when she wants to be and can turn on a dime. She’s tall, thin, and very independent and favors my son more than anyone. And of course Josie the dog, she always happy to see you, wants plenty of love, will give up her toy/meal to someone in need, and this would be me (yes, I’m the Dog).

I love every one of these annoying little turds and to see who favors who makes more sense. We favor the pets that are to most like us. We find them cute, funny, lazy, and sweet natured, etc… and without them, our lives would be missing something wonderful.

Ruff, Ruff,
Wendall K

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Wax on Wax off

Shell and I share every month a trip to the Salon for some mother daughter time and this time I decided to have the works.
Last summer I was out back with my husband and father in law cooking on the grill. I was standing in the sun, when my father in law said “Wow you have white fuzzy cheeks”. I ran straight into the bathroom to see if there was any validity to his comment. OMG, the horror! I remember my mother had white fuzzy cheeks the older she got and it seems I have been struck with the same disgusting genetic mutation.

So, I decided to have them Wax my fuzzy cheeks and my not so fuzzy Legs.
I ask will it hurt?
The Tech said oh no it make you kin so sof and smoof and you hair not grow bak so fas. We do you face den you lebs.
She started by putting baby power on my face and then warm wax over one whole side of my face. Then without any friggin warning, she ripped of what felt like the first layer of tissue. I hesitated for a moment to have her do the other side but not wanting to go out with one fuzzy cheek and the other red and inflamed. I allowed her to rip off the other side of tissue.

After such a painful experience I recanted on the Leg waxing and the Tech said “oh no hunni you face mor sinitive dan you leb, it won hurt” I must have shit for brains because I agreed to try it.
Holy mother Mary it hurt, I screamed and think I lost consciousness but I didn’t because I heard a roar of laughter from the torture techs. Probably because they knew, it would hurt and I would have to PAY for it.

I dropped a small fortune for our salon visit and went home in pain. The worst part is my loving husband didn’t even notice my red smoof kin. It was all for nothing I tell you, nothing.

Wendall K

Thursday, January 8, 2009

The Memory Keeper

Wow, I feel like I need to give an acceptance speech. Thank you all for the warm welcome, I’m still so new I haven’t figured out how to send return comments just yet. So, please forgive me for this public thank you and Jill didn’t really pay me to keep quite.

I have some friends I’ve known for about 23 years now. We raised our kids together, worked together, had a business together, etc… This year is a big one because we all four have boys turning 21 and after all the football, baseball, basketball, paintball, soccer games, church camps, vacations, we have a lot of awesome memories. Jen called to say she had made a DVD for us because it had some very funny, specials times on it, and she wanted to share them. One of them she said has all the boys as we picked them up from church camp with bare bums showing us their itchy poison ivy backsides and all I could say is this is a good lesson on why we wash our hands before and after we visit the bathroom. I must say they may not have been so good with brushing their teeth but they did wash their hands.

I wondered why Jen was (the entire conversation) laughing uncontrollably. It turns out my daughter’s beautifully unique personality was the cause of an entire evening and morning’s hysteria. Shell was 2 years old in one of the videos and a cheerleader for her brother’s football team. She had hair bigger than her tiny body and was very outspoken (Hhhmmm, wonder were she got that from), she also had a crush on Jen’s son (whom was raised like a part of our family) and followed him all over the field.

It wasn’t the video that she was laughing at but the memory of my daughter on this particular day. Jen and I had a resale store together and one day we had been working on the storefront (before it opened) and took all the kids with us. We worked hard taking walls down, painting, etc... And Linda was helping entertain the kids.

Everyone was exhausted and starving so my precious little girl, my self and Linda (who is much older) hopped in the truck to run to the local Kroger’s for dinner. It was cold out that day, I decided to leave Linda and Shell in the car to keep warm, and I ran in to fetch some dinner.

The week before my husband had taken Shell in the truck to drop off some football equipment at the coach’s house and left our daughter sitting in the truck (running and without the emergency brake on) only a few short steps away. Shell was sitting there and wondered why her daddy had to move the stick to make the truck go, so she wiggled it. Ops, it started rolling straight into a brick wall about five feet in front. She was fine and the truck had a small dent in the front, no big deal.

Now remember Shell is in the front middle seat of this truck with the stick right next to her. She starts telling Linda about the truck hitting the wall as she’s moving the shifter (I had set the emergency brake). Linda flipped out thinking the kid is gunna do it again with her in the car. I returned to the car with dinner in hand and began to drive back to our store. Linda was red faced and breathing as if she ran a marathon. I ask her if she was OK and she then told me Shell had scared the crap out of her moving the shifter around.
After a few minutes, she calmed down and I was talking about needing a babysitter for Saturday evening. Linda suggested my mom keep the kids (notice she didn’t offer). My tiny trouble maker looked up at Linda with a burst of energy in her voice, hands on her hips and said “She’s Dead” (she had passed away very recently). Knowing my daughters unique personality it was priceless. Linda was again red faced, breathing like she ran another marathon and in total shock as if she had shattered the heart and dreams of this deceivingly cute little girl. Now that I think about it, Linda never again went to the store with the kids.

She’s one of a kind our little girl and I wouldn’t have it any other way. And the memories of all the kids are such a great part of our lives. They do grow up and that is the hard part. Keep those memories close and cherish the small things in life, because it is truly the good stuff.

Peace out until next time.
Wendall K

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

New Year and new beginnings!

Ok, so I’m new at this blogging thing. One of my very good friends has been doing this for over a year now and has encouraged me to try it. Yes, I’m a nerd!

With this New Year, I’m giving thanks to my fantastic family, friends, and neighbors. In addition, thanking God for the many blessings we have and continue to receive. I don’t have any New Year resolutions or newfound wisdom. I have however discovered my total inability to play video games, remember the artist of songs, books I’ve read, etc… I suppose the kids will say dementia is contagious and I bring it home everyday.

My husband and I have reached a time in our lives that the kids are all hitting the change years 16, 18, & 21. Whew, we have almost made it. I use to think (when the kids were little) that when the kids got older life would be less expensive and easier. Well, I was wrong at least about the less expensive part. I mean do you know how much it costs to buy the kids cars, GPS, cell phones, school tuition, books, pictures, class rings, clothing, food, and the never-ending needs of extra money?

And to top it off, we are told we have reached the “way to old age” to understand their issues, fashion, music, etc… The last few Christmas’s my husband (Jim) and I bought the kids mostly practical things they would need now and later in life like cordless screwdrivers (so ours will be safe) laptops (with not enough storage space for the thousands of songs, video), clothing (totally the wrong style or brand). So this year we said if we don’t get a detailed list with what item (exactly) the place to purchase it and the approx. cost. If we don’t get a list then you get nothing for Christmas.
Oh my gosh this is the secret to a perfect gift giving for our brats. It worked like a charm and we didn’t have to run about town at the last minute picking out things they would either give away to the local thrift store or toss out as if it cost nothing. I don’t remember my parents ever asking us kids what we wanted for Christmas or Birthdays. We got what we got and if you are not happy with it too bad, next year you might get zilch. Thank goodness, this year was a hit; I don’t think I could take another year of total disappointment. Well, the kids didn’t really complain.

It has occurred to me over the last year or so that the kids are almost grown and will be making their own lives and decisions in life. Most of which I’m sure I wont like, but with any luck I don’t have to know about them all. I’m starting to appreciate and understand how my parents must have felt trying to be understanding and lead us in the right direction, knowing we thought they came from another planet.

Being 22 again this year I have learned that the only thing that really changes in life (with age) is our perspectives. The world really isn’t much different; I just see things from older eyes. Yep, I’m talking about saying things to my kids my mother said to me and thinking OMG, I did what I swore (at age 16) I would never do to my kids. And I find myself repeating it to our 18yr old “No you can’t stay out after midnight because my mother was right there is nothing but trouble out after midnight and you don’t need to have any part in it”, which she very politely replies, Yes Mam. I guess we didn’t do so bad after all.

Rock on people (or what ever the cool thing is to say now)!

Wendall K