For Love of Maude or Back to Blogging Day 4

By now, you've got to know Thelma and Louise - the washer and dryer that will hopefully be brought to me by Standards of Excellence, Westar Kitchen and Bath, and Florida Builder Appliances because of the wonderful blog SITS and Back to Blogging.

Today: A new post about a woman who inspires me.

This is actually really hard, because I have alot of wonderful strong women in my world.

But if I have to pick just one, I'd have to go with Maude, my son's biological grandmother.

Maude is so special to me. Her son and I have not always gotten along very well, but she has made it a point to always make our relationship separate from that.

And even though she absolutely didn't have to, she treats my daughter like her granddaughter, so consequently, she is.

She's also the strongest woman I know.

She's been through hell and back many times over and she just keeps on. She may rage about it, or cry, but she never gives up.

Maude is one of the kindest and gentlest people I know, but she also doesn't take shit from anyone. And while she knows how to hold her tongue, if she cares about you then she doesn't - so I always know that she means what she says and says what she means.

I have never asked her for something that she hasn't come through on. There are not words to describe how much I love that woman. And other than my kids, I have no idea what she gets out of our relationship.

There could never be a higher compliment in my mind than to have someone tell me I'm like her.

JJ & Yoda Make a Cake

Sunday me and my friend Aria (AKA Mrs. Superman) threw a shower for our good friend Cara.
First off let me tell you that Cara is the sweetest person ever and has been trying very hard to have a baby, so it had to be absolutely perfect.

So of course I went to Grandma Maude for the cake.

She made my wedding cake.



And also 10 and 6 years worth of perfect birthday cakes (including a 3D Pirate Ship that really was amazing).

This time she wanted to play with fondant, and she wanted me to help her.

I was actually really excited, because it kinda made me feel like I was going to work with Yoda. Only without the nasty ass swamp and and the X-Wing.

So Friday Bean & I packed up the kids and went over to Pa (AKA The Weiner Wrangler) and Maude's.

Maude and I rolled fondant, colored fondant and cut out polka dots in fondant. And while that doesn't really sound like alot of work, let me tell you - I was exhausted when we finally left at 11:00.

Maude and Pa were going to finish it all up for me, but Pa got tired, so Maud called me Saturday afternoon and asked if I could come over to help some more.

Obviously there was nothing I could say but yes, so I packed up the kids and headed back.

We rolled more fondant, and made a rainbow bow and put the fondant on the cake and then applied our bow and polka dots and I thought I was going to die.

We got it all done, and I'd post a picture but my computer is being a little bitch and won't let me. But it was adorable.

Fondant make look pretty, but its a bitch.

If I Only Had a Brain

I am an idiot. Did you know that?? Oh yeah.








I know absolutely nothing. Not the color of the sky. Not what’s for dinner. Not how to make a dog behave. Not how to spell A-P-P-L-E. Not how to make a six year old behave.


It’s been occurring gradually. At first it was little questions, like this:

Me: Oliver, please go take a shower.

Oliver: Can I take a bath instead?

Me: What time is it?

Oliver: 7:45

Me: Since that’s 15 minutes before bedtime, no. Take a shower.



Then it became help.

Me: Tallulah, please pick up your room.

Oliver: Yeah, Tallulah! Go clean your room!

Tallulah:?!?!

Me: Oliver, I don’t really need your help.



But now it’s outright and open, Mom you are dumb as a stump and I must hold your hand and help you because obviously you don’t know what you’re doing.



Me: Oliver, please don’t roll on the floor with the dog – you’re encouraging bad behavior.

Oliver: (looks at me & continues to roll on the floor with the dog)

Me: (?!?!) Oliver! I asked YOU to stop that!

Oliver: (HUGE melodramatic sigh) Mom. He likes it.

Me: But I don’t.

Oliver: (HUGE melodramatic sigh) Mom. He’s having fun.

Me: But I’m not.

Oliver: (HUGER melodramatic sigh) Fine. I’ll go play my DS.

Me: (And I REALLY hope you’ll excuse this example of HORRIBLE parenting, but at this point it’s a complete credit to my self control that my hands are not around Oliver’s little pre-pubescent throat – you’re not seeing the smirk on his face, it’s INCREDIBLY annoying) OLIVER!! I WASN’T TRYING TO GET YOU TO NOT PLAY WITH THE DOG I WAS TRYING TO GET YOU TO PLAY WITH HIM CORRECTLY, BUT SINCE YOU OBVIOUSLY KNOW BETTER THAN I DO, GO AHEAD AND PLAY WITH HIM HOWEVER YOU WANT AND HE’LL GO AHEAD AND BITE YOU HOWEVER HE WANTS. BUT I HOPE THAT AT SOME POINT YOU MIGHT NOTICE THAT HE DOESN’T BITE ME THAT WAY, SO MAYBE, JUST MAYBE THE WAY THAT I TREAT HIM MIGHT HAVE SOME MERIT.



I don’t know where he gets these emotionally charged dramatic impulses from. I definitely need to ask his Grandma Maude - it's got to come from that side of the family.