If you and I have a fight God might give you a brain tumor

So, ya know what happened 3 years ago?  No, not my last blog post but close...

I was on vacation, living it up in New Orleans with my very best friends when I got an emergency call from my Mom.  They'd found a brain tumor in my brother Joey and immediately medi-flighted him to a larger city's hospital to assess the situation.  I got on a plane and headed to Missouri.

Now let me back up a bit here to give you a little history.  Joey and I were best friends while we were growing up.

Joey and me.

We were even best friends after we grew up (ok, he grew up, I'm still in the planning stages) but 3 years ago we were not friends.  I won't go into all the details but I will say that it was entirely his fault we fell out and hadn't spoken in years. Completely, 100% not my fault at all.  But who's keeping track really?

Needless to say, it was finally time to make up with Joey.  Now, if God had just said to me, "It's time to mend fences Candy (and BTW you're my favorite)."  I wouldn't have.  As many of you know, I NEVER go along easily with God's plan.  It always takes me a good swift kick in the forehead to figure things out.

OK, fast forward...
Me-  "I love you Joey."
Joey-  "I love you too Sis"
Me-  "Good luck with brain surgery."

I'm not really great with all the details but I know they took all the bad stuff out of Joey's brain and had to jumble things up in there quite a bit in the process.  We were glad he survived but we had no idea how crazy he was going to be!  There should be a pamphlet in the hospital waiting room for loved ones awaiting brain surgery patients.
100 things you don't know about your brain surgery survivor (or something along those lines)
Your loved one could at any time:
     ...believe he has been abducted by aliens.
     ...believe YOU are the alien who abducted him.
     ...think his 15 year old niece is a famous alligator wrestler.
     ...become very hostile about socks.
     ...think his nephew is in secret security military operations in Afganistan.
     ...try to get you to break him out of the hospital.
And a whole myriad of other crazy things.


One of the things Joey lost was his short-term memory.  You've seen 50 First Dates?  Or maybe you remember Dory from Finding Nemo?  THAT was Joey.  I am not kidding.  It was awesome!  Of course he knew who we all were and that he was married with kids, basic stuff, but he could NOT remember things like eating, or watching TV, or phone calls, or a MILLION other tiny little every day happenings.  The surgery also messed up his Pituitary Gland which made him think he was hungry all the time.  Since the always skinny Joey couldn't remember eating (20 minutes ago) he got fat.  So when I saw him a few months after surgery I said, "Holy cow Joey!  You're so fat!", "Joey, I can't believe you've gained so much weight!", "Are you going to be this fat forever?"  and so on to which Joey finally asked, "Sis, how many times are you going to tell me I'm fat?"  My reply?  "It doesn't matter, in 30 minutes you won't remember I called you fat anyway."  And he didn't.

This brain tumor was becoming a little bit convenient.  Of course I didn't call Joey to check up on him as often as I should have...but he had no idea.
Me-  "Hey Joey.  How are you feeling?"
Joey-  "SIS!  Hi!  I'm doing better!  I'm so glad to hear from you!"
Me (lying)-  "I just called the other day, don't you remember?"
Joey-  "Oh.  Not really.  Sorry."
Me-  "It's ok.  I forgive you."

MAYBE I shouldn't have taken advantage of Joey's situation but he's my little brother and I've been doing it his whole life.

Now, before you are all completely appalled by me wait'll I tell you what his wife did!  Lacie had bought Joey a new guitar right before his surgery for Christmas.  It was beautiful!  He loved it!  Well, a couple of months after surgery our cousin Russell was over and Lacie went to get Joey's guitar so he could show it off.  When she walked in the room with it Joey was elated!  He went on and on about how much he loved it and how nice it was so Lacie, jokingly said, "Happy Valentine's Day."  You see Joey didn't remember getting the guitar for Christmas.  He also didn't remember getting it for Valentine's Day, or Father's Day, or his birthday.  That's right.  Joey got that guitar 4 times that year and he was thrilled every single time.  

Today Joey and I are back on track.  We're friends again.  He's not crazy anymore back to normal.  He's still fat, but he's a cute fat and he remembers when I tell him he's fat.  He's a wonderful husband, a great father and most of all he's a brother again.  He's my brother again.

This is me with my siblings. Tiff, Brian, Joey and me.

Now, I don't recommend waiting until your estranged relative gets a brain tumor to straighten things out but if it does happen, lock the refrigerator.

My kid and my hair dryer went off to college

Well, I did what so many others before me have done...I sent my kid off to college this weekend.

 

The 2 days before we left she was frantically packing the things she thought she might need.  Trying to fit 18 years worth of crap into 4 boxes is quite a feat.  She tossed in her deodorant, her favorite shoes, a super cute backpack, and during this packing frenzy a few questions came up.

"Mom, can I take the movie Bewitched?"  

"Of course you can take that.  Duh!  You're going to college!  College kids watch movies!"

"Mom, I'm gonna need printer paper...and a printer!"

"Don't worry, we never use the printer and they're cheap so I can get another one."

"Mom, what about the hair stuff and the contact solution?  We share that!"

"Well, that's no big deal Honey, you can take it."

"OMG Mom, I can't find that cute hat and scarf we bought last winter!  It's going to get cold up there you know?"

You mean MY cute hat and scarf that you always wear? "Ok, let me find that for you sweetie."

"Hey Mom!  I need that awesome green sweater.  Remember the one?"

"Are you talking about my awesome green sweater?  The one from Old Navy?"

"You never wear that Mom!"

(Yes I do...just not in July!)  "You're right.  I'll dig it out." (Good grief!)

"Mom!  Where are those earbuds?  The white ones?"

"Those are mine Sweetheart.  I got them at the same time I got my phone, remember?"

"Yeah but I stepped on mine and now I have none!  When's the last time you used those anyway Mom?"

(Ok, that's not really the point here.)  "Well, I may want to start using them while I run."

"Come on Mom!  You won't use them.  Where are you going to carry your phone while you're running?"

(UGH!!)  "Ok Bug.  Go ahead and take them.  They're on my desk."

And so on... 

and so on...

and so on......

When we got to her dorm bright and early Saturday morning we started to unpack her things.  We'd gotten her new bedding and towels and all kinds of other shiny new dorm stuff, but as I went through box after box I came across several familiar items.

"Bug, these are my earrings."

"I found them in my overnight bag so I thought you gave them to me."

"Well, no, but I guess you can keep them.  It's ok."      

"Hey Bug, that's my cute toiletries bag.  I take that when I travel."

"Yeah but I have to have something to take down to the showers since I don't have my own bathroom here."

"I guess you're right."      

"Beighly, you KNOW these socks are mine.  Right?"

"Mom, I have NO SOCKS AT ALL and you have like a million!"

And so on...

and so on...

and so on.....

We spent the rest of the day getting her room just right.  We went for dinner that night and then again for breakfast Sunday morning.  We said our good-byes and made a quick get-a-way before I started my bawling.  After 414 miles, 6 hours and 8,267 tears we made it back home.  Back to a home where no kids run up and down the stairs (or drive through the front door into them).  A quiet home with no stomping feet or slamming doors.  Where no one complains about what's for dinner, where there are no last minute, emergency trips to Wal-Mart at 9pm for an assignment that's due tomorrow.  A home that is much too big and much too quiet.

As I got up for work Monday morning (late from the long and emotional road trip the day before) I reached for my hair dryer...that was gone.  I looked around.  My flat iron was also missing!  AND WHERE IS MY FAVORITE CHARCOAL EYE SHADOW?

BEEEEEEIIIIIIIGGGGGGGHHHHHHLLLLLLYYYYYYYY

I'm going to kill her!  As soon as she comes home for Thanksgiving, I'm killing her!

The real question here is "Why am I spending all this money on college when my daughter could make a very good living in petty theft or maybe even grand larceny?"

Don't try to be nice to me, I don't like it.

A SUPER genius artist, Roben-Marie Smith (whom I adore), posted this on Facebook today:

http://betweenletters.quora.com/How-to-Live-With-Introverts?ref=fb

I love this so much and being an introvert myself, agree with almost all of it.  

The only thing I would like to add is this:

I like me in my bubble

I don't like you in my bubble

Go AWAY.

Yes, I KNOW there's a kid duct taped to my oak tree...nosey neighbors!

Well, I did it.  I raised 2 kids.  Ok, Gordito helped, a little.  Beighly Bug (our last) just graduated from High School and although I expected a lot of bittersweet tears, none came. 
None. 
Not once.
Not even a little. 
Maybe it's because I don't really like her or maybe it's that my Dr has my crazy pill dosage set to "comatose", (possibly a combination of both), but I tend to think it has more to do with the fact that we've been completely successful with our kids and I'm just really excited to see what comes next.  The amount of stress I've had during the high school years of either one of our kids has been minimal to say the very least.  I mean they didn't sneak out of the house, drink, get high, or even have sex!  Crazy, right?  Oh, I KNOW how crazy that is because I DID ALL THOSE THINGS and MORE when I was in high school!
 [YES MOTHER, I KNOW I certainly did not raise the kids I deserved... you've told me a million times.]

Bug's high school years went something like this:

"Mom, I have to study.  I have a test."
"Do you need my help?  I AM one of the smartest people I know."
"Uh...it's Algebra."
"Oh.  Well, Algebra is stupid anyway."

"Mom, I can't have a Girl Day with you.  I have to go work."
"I just don't know why you have to work so much."
"Ummm, so I can make my own money and put gas in my own car and pay for my own phone.  I can name a million more reasons.  Why is everything so hard?"
"Well, because Honey, you're more responsible than half the adults I know and you'll never be standing in the line for free handouts.  And just so you know, it's not going to get any easier."

"Mom, why are girls such bitches?  Does it ever get better?"
"Mostly it's Eve's fault and no, it never gets better."

"Mom, I had to have a little talk with my teacher after class today because she thought giving me a B on my test was gonna fly."
Oh God..."Ok, what did you say to her?  Were you respectful?"
"YES! Gawww Mom!  I just asked her to explain why she thought my answer wasn't right and she couldn't give me a good enough reason.  We argued about it into her next class period but I refused to give in.  We both knew I had a good point.  She gave it to me."
"You do know there's nothing wrong with a B, right?"
This conversation ended with Beighly giving me the how-could-I-have-come-from-the-loins-of-someone-so-completely-ignorant look.

On the other hand Brock's high school career was more like this:

Half the High School football team was over every day after school.  This was not easy, but it was fun.  They ate a lot and they did get into a few minor bits of trouble here and there like when AJ's butt went through Brock's bedroom wall and they weren't even doing anything at all except playing video games.  Or the time they all ran in the front door to tell me "their" version of why Brock's windshield had a hole in it the exact same shape as Shawn's body because they accidentally hit him with the car.  How DO you accidentally hit your best friend with your car anyway?  (I never did get to the bottom of THAT.)  Another night they thought it would be fun to put Octavio in the trunk of a car.  At just the right moment they pulled up to a stop light where he jumped out and ran screaming down the street giving the old lady behind them a near heart attack.  Try explaining THAT to the police, "Really officer, the black boy in the trunk is a good friend of theirs!  They were just playing."  And there was that time they set off a bomb caused a small chemical reaction in the pond down at the park and this Nazi-idiot, Rodney, pulled a gun on them.  (We know his name was Rodney as he had it tattooed across his chest...you must be expecting to die a horrible death with your body discovered separately from your head to feel the need to have your name put permanently on your chest.)  And I can never forget this phone call:

"Mrs. Brintnall, there's a boy duct taped to the tree in your front yard."
Me calling Brock, "Bubby, is one of the boys tied to the tree in the front yard?"
"No.  Not really.  I mean we kinda duct taped Daniel to the tree though."
"Ok, I kinda need for you to get him loose before the police show up...again."

All in all, I'd say we raised pretty normal, well adjusted kids.  And by "we" I mean mostly me because let's be honest...who really keeps Dad from killing them anyway?

...and the World's Best Auntie Award goes to......................

I'm not a grandmother.  THANK GOD I'm not a grandmother but I AM an Auntie.  I have 5 nieces and 9 nephews and I'll be the first to say I'm the COOLEST AUNT EVER!  I let my nieces and nephews have and do whatever they want when they're with me.  I look at it like I'm getting back at my siblings in a strange kind of way.  Like we're playing an awesome game of LIFE and I'm in the lead.  Let's be honest, they should all be VERY used to this by now.

I've said the craziest things to every one of my nieces and nephews at some point.  I actually remember a Christmas gathering at my in-laws where I told my nephew Stephen that I'd give him a dollar if he could find me some vodka for my lemonade.  At the time he had NO idea what Vodka was but to think that he probably asked his parents on their way home about it (or even better, his grandma) just cracks me up!
Another time I told my nephews Miah and Austin that grandma said they could get into the cookies before we ate.  Bahahaaaahaha!!  My mom was so pissed at them so then their mom got pissed at them.  Everyone was yelling and while their mom was dragging one (Austin) to the bathroom to get his butt busted I fessed up and said I told them they could have the cookies.  I mean it's not World War III people!  It's just cookies!  If they're at my house I'll let them have the damn cookies instead of their dinner because I think we need a lot more fun in this world...and because I can.

This brings me to a recent visit from my nieces.  To protect their privacy we'll call them Micky and Maddy instead of MacKenzie and Madison.  I taught them all kinds of fun stuff like Road Rage and Revenge!  On our way to Bug's graduation some TOTAL JACKASS cut in front of a HUGE line of waiting cars and got in front of us so I did what any crazy auntie does and called Uncle John who was a few cars ahead of us.  I told him the whole ugly story and about what a big jerk this guy was and then asked him to please pull out in front of Mr Jerkface Line-Cutter...AND HE DID!  Hahhahahahah!  It was the BEST!  The Jackass car people were honking and yelling and we were laughing and laughing!  You see? You have to teach your own kids to be merciful and to forgive others but you don't have to teach your nieces and nephews any of that crap!  That's what they have parents for!

When Micky and Maddy got home from their super awesome visit they got some horrible news.  Their parents split up after 15 or 16 years or something.  I was so saddened by this news and for them that I waited a day or two then texted each of them individually to see how they were handling it.
Here's how that went with the first niece (my texts are in green hers are pink):

  

I felt like that went well so I checked on the other one:

 I went on to tell them that they could probably guilt their mom into another trip down to the beach before school starts if they play their cards right.  I'm hoping to see them again sometime in July.  As for my other nieces and nephews? I can't wait to see every single one of them.  They're all a little older now so trouble is a lot easier to find...especially with an Auntie like me!

Don't accidentally text sexual references to your kids instead of your husband

Recently Gordito ordered a new surround sound system for our living room.  He was so excited about this that when it came via UPS I called him to let him know it was here.  He proceeded to beg me to hook the whole completely complicated system up so it would be ready to go when he walked in from work.
Uhhh. 
NO! 
Duh. 
Surround Sound is not something women get excited about, especially not this woman.  I get excited about way better stuff like online art classes!  As a matter of fact, later that very day one of my favorite artists had opened registration for her upcoming class so I sent Gordito this text message:

(My texts are green, his are pink)

Now, I don't usually say these kinds of things to him and I realize it's a bit crude which is why he thought it was so funny!  I then decided to call Brock (my "genius about all things electronic" son) so he could walk me through the process of setting up the stupid surround sound.  He talked me through the whole thing and before long I had the system ready to go.  I was soooo proud of myself that I decided to text Gordito and tell him, in my completely hilarious way of course...

...only I didn't text this to Gordito, I accidentally texted it to Brock. 

Ugh.

So poor Bubby, innocently sitting in his apartment probably playing some video game gets this text message FROM HIS MOTHER!

OMG!  There are just some things your kids shouldn't hear their parents say.  We laughed pretty hard about this whole thing but the moral of the story is:  Being funny has a price.

God crushed my dreams so that you could live.

I dream of Jeannie.  No, I mean I REALLY DO dream of Jeannie.  I am the biggest I Dream of Jeannie fan ever, ever, ever!  I have a picture of her (Barbara Eden in costume) right above my dressing table so I can see her every morning.

I have 2 Jeannie bottles.  You know?  The old whiskey bottles from the 60's they used for the show.

I couldn't find a pic of my bottles and it's too late to go sneaking around the house trying to take a pic of them.

I tried to talk Bug, my daughter, into dressing up as Jeannie almost every single year for Halloween and succeeded three times (although I could only find pics of 2) and the last time I talked her best friend Sammi into it as well!

Doesn't she seem so happy about her costume?

They are appropriately costumed as "nice" Jeannie and Evil Jeannie

In the show Jeannie had a dog that wasn't on very often.  He was some sort of Yorkie-mix and his name was Djin-Djin.  Because of this I wanted a Yorkie so badly that I grew up (well, I got older) and found one through a friend 6 years ago.  Her name?  Gin-Gin.  Different spelling, same pronunciation.  I LOVED Gin-Gin so much that...well, let me try to shorten this part of the story a bit by showing the whole family of three.  Major Nelson, Jeannie and Gin-Gin (Sookie is just visiting).

Major Nelson, Jeannie, visitor Sookie, Gin-Gin

If some of you are not very familiar with the show I forgive you.  If you've never heard of it I want you to leave my blog and never come back.

Ok, this brings me to my childhood prayers.  My Aunt Linda took me to church.  I didn't know much about all that weird stuff happening in church, but I DID hear the Pastor say that if you prayed, God would grant your wishes.  Ok, I know NOW that wasn't exactly the way he put it but after reading about my Jeannie obsession you can understand why that's exactly what I heard.  I remember asking my Aunt Linda after church if God gave us what we asked for and she said, "Most definitely!", so Yippppeeeee!!!! tomorrow I was going to wake up and be a genie!

I prayed that night.  I squeezed my eyes shut and said, "God, tomorrow when I wake up I wanna be a genie."  When I woke up the next morning I immediately started trying to BLINK some things around in my room.
Nothing.
Nothing happened.
What?  How could this be?
I continued to pray that prayer for some time afterward and I was NEVER a genie when I woke up!  So I asked my Aunt Linda again why God didn't always give us the stuff we prayed for.  I can't remember her exact words (she had no idea I was trying to become a genie) but I'm sure she told me all about God's will and about when we ask for certain things we aren't always ready for them and something else about prayers not being selfish.  Ohhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!  Ok, I got this.

"Dear God, I really want to be a genie.  If you make me a genie I promise never to use my powers for evil and I will always help people.  I'm SURE I'm old enough to handle genie powers and I've thought about this a LOT so please let me be a genie when I wake up.  Amen"

Nope.
That didn't do the trick either.  I prayed that very prayer so many times that it's burned into my brain.  I wanted so badly to be a genie!  I thought about it all the time.  I wanted to help people so why wasn't God just granting my wish?  Ugh!!!

It wasn't until very recently that I realized just how wise God is.  You see?  God knows that's not something I could handle in the least.  Not even a little, tiny bit.

Because if I were a genie:

I would have my own lane on the highway and I wouldn't have to share with anyone!
I would have a Hobby Lobby in my garage.
Child molesters would have blue skin and no penises.
Churches would all burn down.
My brothers would both have a third eye and be covered in warts or feathers or both.
Women probably wouldn't be allowed to drive.
My mom would've been even MORE lenient (and for those of you who know me I'm sure you're trying to imagine me without the small amount of discipline I DID have)
My sister Tiff would've been in a constant state of Asthma attack...or mute.
Guys in my high school would've had periods.
Cigarettes would be illegal.  Gross!
My poor ex-husband would be living as a woman.
My neighbors house would've been lifted right out of the ground by a tornado and sent to Oz (without the shoes).
Clowns would all burst into flame.
I'd be the Queen of America...by America I mean Texas because who really cares about all those other states anyway?
Men would not be able to grow mullets.
Those stupid Sister Wives would have to say what they REALLY think about each other on TV. (in all fairness I've never seen the show, I just have an uncanny ability to immediately recognize freaks)
The girl who goes to school with my daughter and is mean to her would weigh 622 pounds.
White stuff such as sour cream, cream cheese, mayo, dressing, and chip dip would all be on the black market like moonshine once was.
There would be several people struck by lightning every day.  Cashiers, postmen, idiots who can't park between the yellow lines, teachers, doctors, waitresses, EVERYONE IN HOLLYWOOD...

...so, do you see?  Do you see why God didn't turn me into a genie?  You'd all be dead, that's why.  So if I were you I'd say a little thank you prayer tonight.  Maybe something like this, "Hey God (or Universe for all my freak, weirdo non-believing friends who are still in denial despite having found themselves alive even after reading this post), thanks for crushing all of Candy's childhood dreams so that I may live another day to cut her off in traffic or go through the 10 items or less line with 16 items.  Amen"