If you wanna feel better about your family, just read about ours...

Starring: a dad, a mom, a son & daughter-in-law, a daughter & son-in-law, another daughter & son-in-law, 1 teen, 1 grandson, 3 granddaughters, 4 dogs, and a whole lot of love.






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Saturday, June 18, 2011

To the man!


This weekend is all about the man.

The man who bought me a super-sized box of Captain Crunch peanut butter balls for Mother's Day.

The man who tried to kill a raccoon in our garage with a bow and arrow but shot through our refrigerator instead.

The man who tries to scare the neighbor's peacock up the road when he gets loose to "teach him a lesson."

The man who ordered the "Shocking Roulette Game" and then played it with our kids. (Our toddler "won" the first two rounds.)

The man who DJ'd the church youth dance and introduced them to such artists as Van Halen, Bon Jovi, and Def Leopard.

The man who wouldn't stop posing with his shirt pulled up beside the Girls Gone Wild tour bus at a gas station on our way to Hilton Head.

The man who would get sucked into the 90 minute time share presentation by the guy standing outside the Hilton Head Walmart if I wasn't there to lure him to the van with a package of Oreos.

The man who faithfully watches Finding Bigfoot because "you should be prepared."

The man who wears his Ohio State baseball cap everywhere. EVERYWHERE.

The man who makes fun of me for watching this season's The Bachelorette, but then asked me where Bentley was last week.

The man who hit 2 triples during our co-ed softball game last week and then accused me of arranging that with the other team as part of a "cruel fitness program."

The man who used clothes hangers, wires and the car battery to electrify the ground, thus sending fishing worms to the surface for bait. (Two worms fell for it....or just came to the surface out of morbid curiosity.)

The man who willingly pulls over to allow our toddler (or me) to relieve ourselves along the side of the highway and doesn't even roll his eyes when our toddler (or me) doesn't quite make it.

The man who knows how to have fun.

The man who has his wife and children at the top of his priority list.

The man who is slow to anger. (Unless it involves the Buckeyes or the DirectTv service tech named Roy.)

The man who baptized our daughter in the ocean at sunrise.

The man who swept me off my feet 21 years ago and hasn't put me down since.

The man who gives freely with no strings attached.

The man who loves UN-conditionally.

The man who makes me laugh (almost) every day.

The man who doesn't have a selfish bone in his body.

The man who shows me every day the kind of person I want to become.

So, here's to the man!!!

Happy Father's Day to the one we know we can trust and the one who knows how to love.

We love you.

I pray everyone has the man in their lives to celebrate this weekend. Enjoy!

Friday, June 3, 2011

Anonymous

Hi. I stalk read blogs. And when I feel really strongly about something, I've been known to leave comments. Occasionally, but not always, my comments drip with sarcasm in a style referred to as snark. I write fluent snark. You may or may not be familiar with some of my work. It's always signed "Anonymous." (Shhh...don't give away my secret.)

Granted, you're never completely anonymous. You're usually required to sign up for an account so someone somewhere can track you down if need be. That little "track you down" feature has paid off for me on several occasions when I've been contacted by websites to do some snarky writing.

So why do I hide my snark behind "Anonymous?" Because besides my sarcasm, I'm also pretty well known for my fear of people. Fear of judgement. Fear of hostility. Fear of conflict. Ultimately, fear of rejection. I know what it all feels like. Family, friends or strangers....fear feels the same. So I hide behind my anonymous mask.

I've shared before how Facebook was my first step out of hiding. My blog was my second. Both leave me feeling transparent and vulnerable, but both have helped me successfully break free from the chains of fear that used to bind me so tightly. Great risk = Great reward. So true.

I've come a long way on my road to freedom. I've actually never felt more free in my entire life and that feels....well, free! So am I ready to step out from behind "Anonymous?" Nope. Which brings me to what happened today.....

I clicked onto one of my favorite blog sites to find a post about her experience in a department store and a detailed account of how she witnessed another mother behaving with her children. It was told in a humorous way and wrapped up with self reflection of how we mother our children. It was funny and thought provoking. I loved it. So I was completely shocked to scroll down to find this woman being ripped to shreds and being accused of everything from "being judgmental" to "ignoring abuse." Some of the comments were getting pretty nasty, especially by one particular poster who simply referred to herself (himself?) as "Roomthreeseventeen." (Yikes. If you were trying to choose a code name that sent chills of fear up everyone's spine, congratulations. You did it.)

I jumped to my blog friend's defense with a comment laced with some of my best snark that I save for truly special occasions and clicked Enter. To my shock and horror that inflicted immediate stomach cramps and four subsequent trips to the bathroom, my full name appeared under my post. And I couldn't delete it. Holy crap. (No pun intended.) Suddenly my mind was filled with images of the faceless Roomthreeseventeen, dressed in a dark hooded robe, finding my house and ending the life of the Anonymous Queen of Snark and nobody would know where to find her (him?) because she (he?) was smart enough to list only the number of the room of the dungeon where she (he?) sleeps.

Cut me some slack, drama runs deep here.

Two hours later, I'd contacted and heard back from my blog friend. My super snarky comment was deleted, hopefully before the armed and dangerous Roomthreeseventeen got a taste of my gift and I can happily return to my life as Anonymous.....and always remember to set my security alarm at night for the rest of my snarky life.