Grandpa Mac... The Original Swoon

The other day my Aunt Barb sent out a couple of pictures of my Grandpa Mac. As soon as I opened them up I had to smile.

The first photo is my favorite because I love that my Grandpa was smart, that he wore a overcoat and hat and that he was a positive example of a good man. He was a man of conviction and worth, of faith and strength. He IS the original Swoon for me.





He was the kind of Grandpa that made you feel like he loved you more than the rest-and he made each of his grand kids feel that way.

He was cool because he had a wooden leg. Yeah-I know! Isn't that COOL! How many kids can go to school and tell their friends that their grandpa has a wooden leg?

His car was all fixed up so that he could still drive even though he had a wooden leg-how many kids could drive in their Grandpa's car and see the AMAZING, out of this world, special pimped out knobs because he was THAT COOL?

He always had a pocket full of caramels for us kids.

One late summer night I was running around the neighborhood with my shirt off (I was a tomboy and my best friend was a boy so I went through a phase where I wanted to be a boy and therefore ran around with my shirt off like my best friend did... I think I was 4.) Anyway, this summer night had a bit of a chill in the air and I ran past my Grandpa who was sitting on a lawn chair and he grabbed me and wrapped his strong warm arms around me and said "Aren't you cold without a shirt?" I remember how warm and cozy his arms were-the perfect hug.

His house had the best Grandpa smell you could ever imagine. I loved it-

He always had Town House crackers for snacks.

He had stacks of National Geographic Magazines in his living room.

I still have Spaghetti on Wednesday nights because when I was a kid my Grandpa rotated having dinner at each of his 4 children's homes-we had Wednesday night and my mom made him spaghetti. It is a habit that I will never tire of because of him.

I miss him.

I loved him so~

What Was I Going To Say?

I woke up with a great idea for today's post, but by the time I grabbed my laptop I completely forgot what I was thinking about. Foiled again by the morning hangover.

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My bedroom has an "open plan" which is fancy talk for "the bathroom does not have a door" so anyone and their brother can walk in on you when you are stepping out of the shower. And can I just say that no bathroom door makes for a FREEZING cold towel off after a hot shower because there is nothing to hold all that warm delicious air in? Who ever thought of this "open plan" concept for bathrooms is an idiot. Seriously.

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I am coming to you from the confines of my warm bed because it is cold out there people-I stuck my foot out from under my heavy down comforter just a millisecond ago and now I have frostbite. I am not joking. I love this time of year but I hate being cold, I don't understand why God wanted us to have cold weather. Is is to toughen us up? If that is so it is not working because cold weather just makes me a wimp and afraid to get out of bed in the morning. Wait a minute... does that mean I would not survive the "survival of the fittest" theory where the weak are killed off so that the strong hairy people can survive? Oh my Lord-

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Why does it take the warm water so long to travel from the water heater in the basement to my shower up here? It is irritating. I turn on the shower, make my bed, toss my pj's in the hamper, grab my razor, rearrange the soaps, shampoos, conditioners and lotions on the ledge so they look pretty and weigh myself and the water is STILL cold. In the meantime I am standing around naked waiting for the water to warm up and having all of my children walk in on me because I don't have a door to my bathroom.

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One thing I do LOVE about the chilly weather is sweatshirts. Yes. Sweatshirts offer me the ability to wear my size 4 jeans that give me massive muffin top and belly hang but no one knows because I have a sweatshirt on covering up all of my unfortunate body flaws. This may be the reason why I gain 10 lbs every winter because if I have a sweatshirt on I will eat all of my dinner and have dessert because the evidence will be hidden. I have 6 months until April when I start to panic about my muffin top and belly hang... I have to live it up while I can!

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Sigh... well, I have procrastinated long enough. It is time for me to venture out into the cold and start my day. The 6 year old started her day at the crack of dawn because it is Saturday and she does not have to go to school and mom likes to sleep in a little on Saturdays so she has to do everything in her little loving power to make sure THAT does not happen. I'm so happy I am the mom of little people.

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Seriously.

Mornings... Grumble Grumble...

I hate mornings. I really do.

Wait, let me change that... I hate waking up in the morning.

Yeah-that is it.

I don't mind mornings, actually I kind of like them-going around and making beds and picking up odds and ends while the sun is shining through the newly opened blinds.

It gives me a sense of hope-of newness-of me being a maid to my children who are little lazy butts who can't pick up a single pair of underpants from the bathroom floor if I told them I would take them to Disney World!!!

A friend told me that the reason I don't like waking up in the morning is because I go to bed so late at night.

This is true. I am a night owl, but only because that is the only time of the day when I do not have someone looking to me to make their life easier. It is the only time that I can actually watch something that I want to watch on the television that does not have puppets, cartoon characters or grown men singing children songs and acting like lunatics.

I love my late nights.

But last night I went to bed early. I was exhausted and it was just the perfect combination of chilly in my house and warm under my covers that made me drift off to slumber about 3 hours earlier than I usually do.

And I woke up feeling FAB U LOUS! I was amazed! What is the crazy thing called "sleep" that I have been missing?

So I went about my chore of waking the savage beasts that live with me. The 14 year old gets up earlier than the rest of us because she is in high school now and has to do her hair so she is only embarrassed by the fact that her mother picks her up from school in a ponytail, yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt every day of her mother-loving-please-help-me-survive-her-social-status life, and the baby is usually up at the crack of dawn singing songs like "A, B, G, F, E" and "mommymommymommymommymommy" which comes in such a sing-song rhythm that you can't help but be lulled back to sleep to it. Pfft.

But the middle two... they are bears in the morning, and we aren't talking fun-loving circus bears that ride unicycles and wear cute little Shriner hats... no, we are talking "rip all your limbs off and dance on your rotting carcass" bears.

I usually get really irritated by this morning ritual of corralling the feral children every morning, but today-with my newly refreshed full night of sleep mind, I was able to fend off yelling and screaming at the top of my lungs until the neighbors called CPS on me... AGAIN!

My pleasant mood helped the 6 year old be happy and cheery before she walked out the door. She didn't even argue with me about clothes this morning! I need to call Guinness Book of World Records.

But the boy in the house, he did not play into my evil plan of actually being NICE to my kids in the morning and he was still his usual "angry-boy" self.

I am proud of him for sticking to his convictions.

At least he is consistent.

When he makes up his mind-he does not change it.

He has a strong personality.

He is just training for the day he is a prison warden.

Sigh...

Walker... College Girl Ranger.

Yes, I am aware it is Tuesday. Yes, I am aware that the Swoon did not go up on Monday. Yes, I am aware that I am a slacker...

I have sick kids at home and have survived Homecoming weekend with a Freshman... cut me some slack.

On Sunday night I went to my favorite place to eat dinner in the world... Dairy Queen. I love M&M Blizzards, I really do. They are God's gift to humanity and I thank Him every morning for them.

"Hey God? This is June... how are ya? I know that Iran is keeping you busy and Health Care has probably got you pulling your Spiritual hair out... but I would like to thank you for Dairy Queen M&M Blizzards because I think they are great and they make me smile, and I know when I smile, You smile with me... so I hope you could forget about the fact that nine out of ten teens are not getting their daily allowance of fruits and vegetables for just a brief Heavenly nanosecond and know that MILLIONS are probably thankful to You for ice cream. Amen."

I am nothing if not Faithful... no matter what you may think you know about me.

Anyway... I went to DQ with one of my favorite people in the world! I have known Christiana since she was in my Small Group as a Freshman in high school and now she is a Sophomore in college-and my daughter, who was just a little squirt when Christiana came into our lives is now a Freshman in high school and Christiana thinks she is old.

Yeah... sure.

I asked Christiana who I should put on the swoon. She sat and thought for a moment and then jumped out of her seat and shouted

"PAUL WALKER!!!"

"Who is Paul Walker?"

"He is the totally hot guy in the movie Fast and Furious."

"Oh, that explains it."

"Have you ever seen the movies Fast and Furious?"

"Uhm... no"

"Well, you HAVE TO!"

So because Christiana is feeling old because my child is growing up, I thought I would make her smile and not only put Mr. Walker on the Swoon... but I would link you to her blog-which is totally fun because she is giving us the play by play of college life--and not by a kid that drinks every night and skips class (that would have been my college blog) but this blog is by a good kid who remembers who she is!

Upoon hearing how mucho grande taco bell Christiana likes this Paul Walker character, I decided to call him up. I told him all about Christiana and he asked if his agent could set up a date with her. I said "No way Buddy!" So then he asked if he could call her himself and I handed him her number and said "Do with it what you wish..." and walked away. (I am cool like that). But then I ran around the corner and did a little surveillance with my camera and got this shot:

This is Paul on the phone with Christiana asking her out on a date... and then getting a little perturbed when he had to repeat who he was four times before she remembered him.

This is Paul waiting for Christiana on their date. Look at how he is gazing into the future... THEIR future... I can just tell he is imagining a little house on a hill with a couple of dogs running around. Notice how he didn't wear shoes-he was totally anticipating her knocking his socks off so he decided to save himself the step.

And this is where he was at a movie premier and was saying "Sorry ladies... I love Christiana, but I hear Vin Diesel is single."



Good call Paul... and good luck with Christiana!

I Am A Freshman With A New Dress To Wear... Hear Me ROAR!

Do you remember homecoming when you were a kid? I do-I think I only went one year... maybe two. Okay, so maybe I DONT remember homecoming.

Which is why I don't see the big deal about homecoming now for my daughter, but because I know how important it is for a freshman to go to homecoming (we were not allowed to go to homecoming as freshmen) we have gone all out:

Dress-check!

shoes-check!

hair appointment with cut out magazine clipping of much desired hair style-check!

nail appointment-check!

"Can I have smokey eyes for homecoming mom?"-no check here, I am doing her make up and there will be no smokey eyes! Sweet, soft 14 year old eyes-check!

eyebrows waxed-check!

ticket-see, this is where we have run into a snag.

14 year old was going to homecoming with a small group of friends, two of which were from her parochial elementary school so I felt confident that they would be saying a rosary before dancing and grinding. A few boys had asked her to go with them and she had said "no" because, A) she did not like them "that way" and B) sometimes it is fun to say no to boys-it boosts the self esteem. Don't argue with that logic-you know it is true.

Well, last night at the homecoming football game my 14 year old decided that she did not like the way her "date" was treating her and told him to shove off...

So last night at 11pm I heard the story and found out that not only has the group changed a bit, but they have added two more kids to the festivities. Some of the players have changed, but the objective is still the same--wear a pretty dress and put make up on!!!!!

Lord help me...

A Tweet Here... A Tweet There...

So I have never done MySpace because I have no space that is my own-I can't even shower without a two year old opening the shower door to say hello every 30 seconds so what am I supposed to do with a MySpace account?

I wouldn't know what to do with all the... "Space"

And I did have a facebook account, but I deactivated it and then activated it and then deactivated it and then activated it and then deactivated it again... because that is how I roll. Leave me alone... pay attention to me... leave me alone... pay attention to me... leave me alone. I usually activate it when I get a phone call from a friend who says "Have you seen so-and-so from high school? They look FABULOUS!" and I have to activate my account in order to admire the wonders of plastic surgery.

I opened a twitter account eons ago-but never posted anything. I think I signed up for it so that I could read Ashton Kutchers Tweets about Demi Moore... I can't remember, but I didn't tweet on it because I didn't want anyone stealing my brilliant thoughts-because there are thought stealers out there... and then one day I would be at the movies and enjoying my popcorn and milk duds and the movie would become very familiar to me, almost like deja vous... and then it would dawn on me that the movie was like a window into my brain and all of my thoughts would be played out on the big screen (with Cameron Diaz playing me of course) and I would not receive one royalty check in the mail and still be buying my designer labels at Plato's Closet (which is the greatest store in the world and if you do not have a Plato's Closet in your city... well you are missing out-but if you DO have one, drop what you are doing right now and go shopping!)

ANYWAY...

I decided that my thoughts aren't that earth shattering and I don't think anyone will steal them from my twitter... so I am twittering again, because sometimes I can't make a big ol' blog out of just thin air---although this one seems to be like a fart in the wind doesn't it?

So if you want to follow me and see what I am thinking at random times throughout the day-check it out... HERE

See ya there!

Six Degrees of a Monday Swoon... Sort of.

I went to get my hair cut the other day. It needed it bad-when I see that I am wearing it in a pony seven days a week I know it is time to get my rear in gear and call my stylist.

I love my stylist-I do. She is trendy and hip and absolutely gorgeous, and she is a fairy godmother as well because she can make me go from frumpy to gaw-geous in no time with just a pair of scissors.

*that really is my stylist-she is that beautiful!*

Have I mentioned that she cuts my hair with the same scissors that have cut Chad Kroeger's hair?

I will pause so you can ooohhh and ahhhh.

When Nickelback was in town this past year she was called to do their hair and make up for the video they were filming and she ended up chillin' with the fellas.

When she told me the story I made her write a contract in blood with me stating that when they come back to town and she is called upon again, that she takes me along as her "assistant"

Speaking of Nickelback, did you know they are from Canada?

Many of my favorite rockers have come from Canada~

Brian Adams

Corey Hart

Jeff Healey also came from Canada-and he was in the movie Road House.

With Patrick Swayze.

Patrick Swayze was not from Canada, he was from Houston Texas

and we all know who is from Texas...

But, the main reason for this Six Degrees of Monday Swoon is none of the Swoonables above-it goes back to my hair stylist and the fact that when I was sitting in her "chair of magic" she had some rockin' tunes playing in the background.

It was Theory of a Deadman-who I louvre... and they are from Canada.

And Chad Kroeger gave them a record deal when Tyler Connolly gave him a demo tape at a concert.

And Tyler Connolly is obviously Irish.

So it all makes sense to me.

Please Forgive Me...

I had to do it...

Enjoy you crazy Robward Pattinson Cullen weirdos out there...

You know who you are.




My question remains the same... if the movie is already done, why do we have to wait until November?

Seriously.

Jackass...

MTV Shows

Now listen, I will be the first to admit that I am not a Taylor Swift music fan. I am not a fan simply because her music is better suited for my daughter's age group of 14 year old giddy girls who get nervous around boys and want to fall in love with someone just because they wear Hurley t-shirts and have a cool cell phone...



I am more of the head-banging, angry rant music type of fan.



I can't help it.



But I will say this about that sweet blonde girl standing on that stage in front of millions of people-she has class.

She didn't do any of the things that I would have done if that happened to me-because when I see something unfair happening to someone, I have no problem speaking up-taking a stand and threatening to kick some jackass where the sun don't shine.

So congratulations to Taylor Swift-not for winning an award, but for earning something much more important in life-respect.

Atta girl.

God Love The Irish On A Monday...

You know, I never know how the Monday Swoon is going to go. Some days I have no idea who to put on here and so it can be a hit or a miss (remember the cowboy swoon? ugh!) but other days I can just be walking down the street and bump into some amazing actor and introduce myself and say "Would you like to be on the Six-Pack?" and this famous actor will usually get all giddy and say "The Six-Pack? Are you SERIOUS? I would give my right ARM to be on the Six-Pack!" and then I feel obligated to put them on here (Matthew McConaughey, you know I am talking to you.) and then there are the days that I am just sitting around enjoying a movie on TBS or ABCFamily that came out years ago-or even when I was in high school (which was not "years ago" but you know what I mean...) and I will see someone and say "He is the ONE!" and presto chango... we have lift off!

That is what happened for me yet again this week. I was watching the movie "The Wedding Date" with Dermott Mulroney and Debra Messing.

Well, if you have to know the truth I was switching channels between "The Wedding Date" and "Chicken Little" on Disney.

I just love that Chicken Little.

So I decided to put Dermott Mulroney on the Swoon... only I thought his name was Dylan McDermott and started my search for him and came up with this....

And realized that although this is a very nice looking Irish boy-it ain't the boy in the movie that I was watching so I had to refine my search and found what I was looking for...

Oh Dylan, don't be so excited that you made the Monday Swoon. I know it will look fabulous on your resume, but you really need to contain your excitement. You cannot rely on my to get you the big jobs. I am sorry.

Anyway, I had to figure out the correct Irish name that went with the dark haired Irish actor in the movie I was watching. I almost called my mother because she knows just about every dark haired Irish actor out there... but her favorite was the light haired Andrew McCarthey-I could never understand that one... I never liked his weird eyes.

Okay, so I finally figured out who was in the stinking movie and who was going to be the Monday Swoon...

Oh. My. Goodness. I love the Irish. Here we have "Angry Irish." This is what 99.9% of my family looks like.

Here we have "boy next door Irish" which is a very good kind of Irish to be... unless your name is Timmy Murphy and you are 13 years old and the year is 1985 and my parents think you are up to no good even though you were an altar boy. I think it was the fact that he had a trampoline in his back yard and a spiked haircut... God Forbid!!!

And here we have "Scar Irish" which is another really good kind of Irish to be. Sure, he prolly got that scar in a silly wimpy kind of mishap... but since it is an Irish scar, I am willing to bet it had something to do with beer and a pub and fists and blood. Uh-huh.

Oh Mother of The Green Isle... here we have "Uterus ache Irish."

No description necessary.