Now That's Just Crazy Talk

If I could renovate Dante's Circles of Hell . . .

2011-07-09T02:08:00.000-05:00

Beet Farmers
Circle I Limbo

People who write checks in busy stores
Circle II Whirling in a Dark & Stormy Wind

People who smack when they eat
Circle III Mud, Rain, Cold, Hail & Snow

DMV Employees
Circle IV Rolling Weights

Parents who bring squalling brats to R-rated movies
Circle V Stuck in Mud, Mangled

River Styx

General asshats
Circle VI Buried for Eternity

River Phlegyas

Tennessee Vol Fans
Circle VII Burning Sands

John Calipari
Circle IIX Immersed in Excrement

People who are cruel to animals
Circle IX Frozen in Ice

Design your own hell

25 Random Things About Me

2009-01-27T14:34:00.103-06:00

Well, I've been tagged again to publish 25 Random Things About Me. At first, I was going to simply come up with 9 things and tack it onto the 16 Random Things About Me that I was published earlier this year as a result of being "tagged" on facebook. But I got to thinking that maybe that was a little lame and that surely I could come up with 25 new ones. So here they are:

1. I was selected to be the Main Angel in the school Christmas pageant in 2nd grade at Messiah Lutheran School. When my mom got the note that was sent home to tell her what costume she had to make, she was so shocked that her mischievious little redheaded girl was an angel that she actually called my 2nd grade teacher to make sure it wasn't a mistake or a joke.

2. I am very afraid of spiders in the house, but not in the yard. My irrational default position is that every spider I see might be a brown recluse and I freak out. In fact, at one point, the folks who ran the hyperbariac unit at Baptist Hospital had to sit me down and show me the difference between common wolf spiders and brown recluses . . . because I worked in the marketing department a couple of floors beneath them at the time and I kept bringing spiders up to their unit in Ziploc baggies, scared outta of my mind.

3. Speaking of liking being in the yard, I completed the Master Gardener program at my local agriculture extension service about 10 years ago.

4. I talk to myself out loud when I'm concentrating really hard.

5. I am extremely right-handed. I can't even snap my fingers with my left hand. They should have telethons for people like me.

6. I hate folding laundry with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns. If I were obscenely wealthy, I would never sit on the couch and pair up socks from the laundry basket again. I'd just wear them once and throw them away.

7. I kiss my pets on the mouth. I know . . . . eeeewwww! But at least I KNOW where they've been, which is more than many of my friends can say about the lips that they'll kiss!

8. I have 2 sisters and we are all 3 so different that it is like we are from different planets. I was never very close to my older sister growing up . . . .she's 4 and a half years older. But now, she is one of my favorite people and we are very close. She has impeccable ethics, a good heart, and juggles more irons in the fire with more grace than just about anyone I know. She is just an amazingly GOOD person and very honest. And she is the mother of my only niece and my children's only cousin.

9. I prefer not to eat mushrooms if I can avoid them. I don't mind the taste at all . . . it's that I've never really been able to get past the fact that someone told me in my childhood that you shouldn't eat mushrooms because "frogs pee on them."

10. My grandfather thought I could do no wrong. I was clearly his pet, as unfair as that was to my sisters and older cousins. The story goes that he kissed my photo every night before he went to bed. After he died, my mom gave me his wallet with my photo in it, his watch, and his tobacco pouch and pipe. Throughout my life, whenever things have gotten realllllllly tough, I've pulled out the tobacco pouch, opened it up for just a minute, and taken in a big sniff. It's been over 30 years (he died when I was young), but it still smells like Granddaddy and always makes me feel better. He only finished 3rd grade in rural Mississippi, but was a whiz with math and my mom says she would have NEVER passed college algebra without him. He was a home builder and a good man.

11. My mother signed me up with a local modeling agency when I was in 6th or 7th grade. I guess she had a hankering to be a stage mom. Anyway, I was hired for two jobs, both for Fred's Discount Stores. I was featured with an older gentleman in a store poster for Father's Day and a television commercial where I was wearing the precursor to the infamous Snuggie/Slanket. Please God, don't let THAT be my 15 minutes of fame . . . .

12. I've only told three men in my life (other than male relatives or platonic friends) that I've loved them, one of whom is my husband. I think words count and I've never been capricous with telling people that I love them.

13. I served as the Chaplain for my local Mothers of Multiples group one year. I wrote a monthly devotional/inspirational message for the members and served as the contact person if someone in the group needed special help. I was always really flattered when members would tell me that they'd actually read my column and it meant something to them. The one that got the most comments is here: http://nowthatsjustcrazytalk.blogspot.com/2009/01/fathers-there.html

14. My mom also went through a stage where she entered me into beauty pageants. I was the first runner-up for Little Miss Memphis one year. Again . . . Please GOD, don't let THAT be my 15 minutes of fame.

15. The first thing my mom said to me backstage following college graduation was "I can't believe I got you through college and you haven't been to jail."

16. I am actually a member of Mensa. No, I'm not joking. Got the card in the wallet and everything! I joined one year as a Mother's Day present for my mom. She had known I qualified from test scores in elementary school, but I'd never actually agreed to sign up and she wanted me to do so. It is actually not quite as impressive as it sounds . . . . 2 out of every 100 people qualify and the percentage is probably much higher in the group of folks reading this (facebook, according to marketing research on social networking sites, has a much larger number of college graduates than competing sites). In fact, I think most of my good friends are every bit as intelligent as I supposedly am . . . so if you are reading this, there's a good chance that you'd qualify if that means anything to you. I actually think that I am much more unique because I was born with 12 toes, and I had just about as much to do with THAT as I did having an IQ meriting Mensa membership. My offspring also qualify, but they don't need to know that just yet.

17. I don't have any tattoos, although I seriously considered getting one for my 40th birthday last year. My first name is Melissa, named after my dad Mel. The name "Melissa" means "honeybee" and that is what I was considering getting inked on my bod in an inconspicous place. I've had a tumultous year, with several significant situations requiring me to make decisions that would be far-reaching. I have often wished that I could ask my Dad what he thought this year and that's how the idea for the tattoo came about. I still haven't done it; but I haven't ruled it out completely either.

18. I still harbor ill feelings for my 7th grade teacher, Mr. Gienapp. I know it's time to move on, but I'm still hoping he gets a rash one day that won't quite go away and causes him to want to scratch himself in public in inappropriate places. Why? Our class had to write a 5 paragraph mini-term paper on a book we had chosen. I had become enthralled with my older's sister's copy of Sir Thomas Mallory's Le Morte d'Arthur and really got into the whole King Arthur thing. I kind of went overboard and ended up comparing the treatment of the characters of Arthur, Guinevere and Lancelot in that book versus Once and Future King (T.H. White) and Idylls of the King (Alfred Lord Tennyson). Or maybe I read Mallory's book first . . . . anyway, I read all three like a child possessed. I turned in my paper and my teacher gave me a "C." He said that I couldn't have written it, which would have deserved an "F" for plagarism, but since he couldn't prove I didn't write it and it was good, he'd settle for a "C." My dear, and usually very shy, mom went ballistic. She marched up to the principal's office after talking to Mr. Gienapp and argued my case. Somehow they decided that a "B" would be okay. I've never understood why people underestimate what children can do when they are really interested. Thumbs up for Mom. Thumbs down for Mr. Gienapp.

19. Obviously, I hold grudges. Not a good thing. The flip side of that coin is that I'm incredibly loyal and if I actually give a damn about you, I will probably care about you and your welfare for as long as I live. In fact, I'd probably come to your defense or help you out long past when you might think I've forgotten about you or wouldn't care enough to step up.

20. Generally speaking, I swallow my gum.

21. I like crossword puzzles a lot.

22. More often than not, I burn the bread with dinner.

23. I am so nearsighted, that if we were living in Biblical times, I'd have been put outside the temple with a cup in my hand. My prescription is a minus 10. Personally, having married a pretty nearsighted person as well, I'm actually shocked that my children weren't born with the ability to use echolocation or antennae on their heads.

24. I always say that the most honest people I know are about 3 feet tall . . . and I'm not talking about dwarfs. I love the honesty of small children. Seriously, don't ask a three year old what they think unless you really, really want to know! LOL!

25. I am very protective of my friends . . . goes back to the loyalty thing!

Father's There

2009-01-27T13:40:00.014-06:00

From "Multiple Appeal," the newsletter of the Memphis Area Mothers of Multiples (June 2004 issue)
Chaplain's Corner column

This is my first Father's Day without my Dad, who died last summer in a car accident. As I think about the upcoming holiday, a childhood memory keeps coming back to me.

I remember the summer I learned to swim at the East Memphis YMCA. I was wiry, spunky, and took to water like the "Minnow" my class was called. I'd been eyeing the big kids and the high dive for weeks and decided to stake my claim and climb that ladder. I waited until just the "right" moment . . . until Dad had come to pick me up and was watching from the other side of the fence.

Then I got cold feet. Standing on the diving board, looking way, way, WAY down, I started questioning if I really wanted to do this or not. Or more truthfully, was I too scared to do it? My father said something along the lines of : "If you're going to do it, do it. But don't be scared."

Did I jump off of the diving board or did I negotiate my way back down that ladder? That's not the point. The point is that Dad was letting me know that as my father, he didn't want me to let fear keep me from doing what I wanted to do . . . but that he wasn't going to climb that ladder and get my scrawny booty outta trouble either. He would let me figure out what I had to do with his watchful eye over me.

God's like that sometimes, I think. Like Dads here on Earth, our Heavenly Father watches over us, even if He chooses not to always deliver us immediately from the messes of our own making. He wants us to have the courage to exercise the choices we know are best in our lives and the faith to know that He is three for us all the time.

Just like our dear old Dads.

16 Things

2008-12-18T09:58:00.004-06:00

I was "tagged" on facebook by an old friend from grade school asking me to post a list of 16 random things about me. I pulled it together and then thought . . ."Hey! This might make an interesting addition to my ever-neglected blog!" So, enjoy.

1. When eating trail mix, I like to separate the ingredients into little piles and eat all of one thing before moving on to another. I do the same thing with Skittles and M&Ms. I also tend to eat all of one item on my plate before going on to the next.

2. I skipped a year of school because I was an extremely early reader. This resulted in me graduating from college ON my 21st birthday. Therefore I did not have a single LEGAL drink in college! LOL!

3. I was born with 12 toes - 6 on each foot. Thanks to some groovy surgeon when I was 18 months old, I now sport the standard issue ten.

4. The remaining toes are really long and I swear I can pick small items up off the floor with them (stray pencils, pens, kleenex). In fact, I once tried playing video game with them in high school. Let's just say that if I need to give you a hard pinch under the table, it might not be with my hand! F-R-E-A-K-S-H-O-W!!! (Actually, my feet do look just like anybody else's who has long slender toes . . . . But I know the truth that I'm actually Monkey Girl. LOL!)

5. If Lenox had a divided plate in the Eternal pattern, my wedding registry would have been sharply different. I hate green bean juice on anything but green beans. Casseroles are different. Who doesn’t love a good casserole? But if it’s not supposed to mingle, I don’t want it to.

6. I once jumped on stage and sang with a band while visiting San Destin. I must sing drunk about as bad as I do sober, because I did notice that they turned off my microphone although they encouraged me to stay on stage and shake it.

7. I once told a mildly dirty joke using the word "dildo" during open mike time at the old Comedy Zone in Overton Square. It was a dare . . . and the other person chickened out.

8. I've never watched Gone with the Wind all the way through. I have, however, watched Jaws and Pulp Fiction more times than I can count.

9. I have been a mild insomniac off and on throughout my life, including periods during my childhood. I used to sneak and turn on the TV in my room (What the h*** were my parents thinking?), turn the sound down to where it was barely audible, and watch SCTV and Soap when I was supposed to be asleep.

10. Here’s One of the Very Few TRUE Regrets of My Life: When I was younger (read: "and hotter") I had a dear friend, who is photographer, ask me to pose for him semi-nude for a project when he was getting his masters degree. Although I was intrigued, I totally wimped out. If I had known then what I know now, I'd have said "Hell, yeah" before he even had time to load the camera! No, I probably wouldn't do it now (he’s a whiz with Photoshop, but not a miracle-worker), but I sure should have done it then. Moral of the Story: Don’t be afraid to seize the moment. It doesn’t matter what people are going to think or say. It is your life and you should live it the way you want to live it.

11. I have ADD, but only recently found out after extensive testing of my working memory versus intelligence scale testing and other assessments. Wow . . .think of all the crap I might have accomplished if I hadn’t been so forgetful and easily distracted earlier in life.

12. I was diagnosed with thyroid cancer in 2004. I underwent two surgeries in 8 days (removed 1/2 of my thyroid, pathology report came back that it was riddled with bad cells, went back in to remove the other half a few days later) and radioactive iodine treatment. BUT . . . . I’m great now! All subsequent nuclear imaging scans are clear and blood tests perfect.

13. I have an odd fascination with the bubonic plague and intermodal shipping, particularly container shipping.

14. I like to mow the grass. I really do. You can clean the house and it’s messy again in 10 minutes with kids. But you can mow the grass and it looks good for days. I love that in a really weird way.

15. I like to sit on the inside seat of a booth, or the window seat on an airplane I am the exact opposite of someone with claustrophobia. I actually love small spaces. In fact, I used to play inside my closet all of the time when I was a little kid.

16. I have a mean streak about a mile wide. Sometimes I just enjoy screwing around with people, especially if I think they are mean to others. I guess I’ve fancied myself kind of like the Robin Hood of Revenge. There was this woman that I worked with for years. I could not stand her, especially the way she treated her subordinates, one of whom was a dear friend. So one day, I stayed late in the office and gathered up as many different colors and types of ink pens as I could find. This was back in the day when people still used rolodexes. I sat down at her desk and changed one number on each of the handwritten cards (most of hers were). You know . . . made 3s into 8s, 1s into 4s or 7s, etc. Then I just sat back and watched as it slowly drove her insane for days that she could NOT reach anybody on the phone. She thought she was going crazy. That was fun.

Getting Down with the Homeys . . . Nursing Homeys, that is.

2008-11-06T13:17:00.002-06:00

So I'm visiting my mom in the nursing home this morning and discovered that yet another stereotype may indeed be a "universal truth."

Mom was telling me that she really wants one of those motorized scooters to get around in the nursing home. Now, keep in mind, my sweet mother is blind as a bat. She has suffered from age-related macular degeneration and diabetic retinopathy for years and no longer has any central vision at all. The staff (and our family) have issued a resounding "NO" because she cannot see to drive one. She would be mowing down innocent bystanders left and right. It would be like Mr. Magoo on the Autobahn. Not good.

Anyway, apparently, there's a couple of gentlemen at her home who have these . . . and they attract some attention. Mom was flattered when one of them asked her for her name. I told her if she played her cards right, he might take her for a ride.

I guess the universal truth remains . . . . "Da boyz with the cool rides really do get all da bitches."

Top 10 Reasons Trick or Treating is Better Than Sex

2008-10-27T09:36:00.002-05:00

borrowed from an email circulating around . . .

TOP TEN REASONS WHY TRICK OR TREATING IS BETTER THAN SEX

10) You are guaranteed to get at least a little something in the sack.

9) If you get tired, you can wait 10 minutes and go at it again.

8) The uglier you look, the easier it is to get some.

7) You don't have to compliment the person who gives you some.

6) It's OK when the person you're with fantasizes you're someone else, because you are.

5) Forty years from now you'll still enjoy candy.

4) If you don't like what you get, you can always go next door.

3) It doesn't matter if the kids hear you moaning and groaning.

2) Less guilt the morning after.

AND the No. 1 reason why trick or treating is better than sex.........

YOU CAN DO THE WHOLE NEIGHBORHOOD!!

If Obama doesn't fill your soul with hope and change . . .

2008-10-20T14:27:00.003-05:00

there's always the Cheeto Jesus.

Talk about "crazy talk." Read all about it in Dave Lucas' blog. Big thanks goes out to the writer of Building Camelot who called it to my attention on Twitter.com (yes, I "tweet" as well. Must get a life, repeat, must get a life)

Click HERE for a godly snack:
Cheesus! It's Jesus!

Makes Holy Communion seem more like a snack, dontcha think???

White Trash Mom Halloween Crafts

2008-10-19T13:46:00.003-05:00

Okay . . . this is just about the most irreverent craft I've ever seen and offered up for your consideration by one of the most creative REAL-MOM bloggers out there . . . the Tacky Princess of Whitetrashmom.com.

Hanging ghosts made from stick-on eyes and tampons? That will keep you off the dreaded Room Mother list for sure . . .

Click link and enjoy a tacky chuckle. Or better yet subscribe to her posts. I get no royalties and don't know this person. I just know she makes me laugh very often and very loudly.

White Trash Mom's hilarious blog

And that's why we have chocolate AND vanilla . . .

2008-10-16T14:08:00.006-05:00

Different strokes for different folks, and all that.

I've been inundated with emails and phone calls lately as a result of sharing my decision to put my twins in separate schools. I think a quick little blogger entry, followed by Facebook and Twitter communiques might spread the news a bit more efficiently . . . and maybe even help a soul out there who might be facing similar decisions.

My hubby and I have been blessed with fraternal twin daughters. They are truly the joy of my life. Since the day we found out we were expecting twins (at the 20 week ultrasound), we pledged to treat them as individuals, not as a "unit." Seldom have we dressed them alike, much to the frustration of the matching-frilly-"almost but not quite Jon Benet"-dress-buying grandparents. Neither have we insisted on buying "two of everything," because quite frankly, their interests have developed along divergent lines. And learning to share is a pretty good thing too.

Paige and Ellen have attended a public school in our city since Kindergarten. They have been enrolled in an enriched academic "optional" program and both tested into the gifted program, called CLUE at their school. Tom and I are lucky that they are so bright, but we do give credit to their Montessori preschool for helping to instill a love of learning and encouraging an inquisitive mind in both girls. But as you might have guessed . . . .the similarities end right there.

Paige is a tall, confident, outgoing, people-pleasing socialite who never met a stranger and has the auditory recall of digital voice recorder. The traditional third grade classroom where the teacher gives mini-lectures and stacks of homework is challenging and exciting to her. She is highly competitive and has the tenacity of a bulldog. (note: yes, I realize that she is going to absolutely hate me when she is a teen. We will butt heads like Memphians vote for the Fords . . . early and often).

Ellen, however, is an entirely different little creature. She is petite, feisty but shy, fiercely independent, astonishingly creative and has the little girls' version of ADD-Highly Distractible. You know . . . at any given moment, it can turn into a "rainbows and unicorns" moment when the mental vacation kicks in. She is insanely gifted in math and art, and scored "Very Superior" in Perceptual Reasoning when her intelligence was tested by an educational psychologist using the Wechler Scale for Children. But listening is difficult for her . . . . in addition to her ADD, she has dealt with both expressive and receptive language impairments. Simply put, she does not process language quite the way the rest of us do. It takes her a bit longer to make sense of auditory communication . . .and sometimes her syntax is awkward. In fact, the psychologist volunteered "She may never be a trial attorney, but she'd make a heck of an architect!" I literally laughed out loud when he said that and shared that she can spend hours building with Legos and Magnetix or looking at a pop-up coffee table book of Frank Lloyd Wright's major buildings that Santa brought her one year.

Which brings us to THIRD GRADE. (cue the ominous sounding music . . . da-da-da-DA)

Like in many schools, third grade at our public school is where they "separate the men from the boys" or in our case, the auditory learners from the highly visual ones. Paige is truly excelling. If she brings home a paper that has less than a 95 on it, it's because she was docked points for leaving her name off. The "A"s are just about automatic. And in spite of having the Homework Maven for her teacher who assigns at least 50% more homework nightly than Ellen's teacher, Paige is still routinely finishing in half the time it takes Ellen.

Ellen was struggling to keep her head above water. Her difficulties in organizing her work, remembering what to do and when, and keeping her focus was causing her to question her own intelligence. She would be on the verge tears frequently during class according to her teacher. She began having stomach-aches and not feel like eating dinner because of the nightly stress. She was even having bad dreams. But the real kicker for me was the night we reviewed the first report cards. Of course Paige had the perfect report card, complete with the blue Principal's List Honor Roll ribbon attached. Ellen's was a motley assortment of As, Bs, and mercy-Cs. Ellen calmly looked at Paige's ribbon and said "Well, I guess I won't get one of those this year." I asked her why she believed that, because she made fantastic grades in K-2. She responded with calm resignation "Well, I was smart in the little grades and got those, but I'm not good at the big grades."

She was already deciding - and worse - accepting that this level of work was out her reach. It broke my heart. Just into a million, gadzillion pieces.

This is a child who could count to 100 by the time she was two and a half. Who read a Scholastic Bob Book independently two weeks PRIOR to her fourth birthday. Who skip-counted the keys on the piano aloud when she was three and a half. Who was incorporating the concept of perspective into her little drawings by the time she was five . . . without anyone telling her to do it. Who can create the most amazing computer-generated cartoons using the ALICE program from Carnegie Mellon. Who now thinks that she isn't smart enough to succeed in third grade.

I've always said that God didn't just give these kids to me and Tom . . . He also gave us TO them. It was time to really look at the school situation and do what is right for Ellen, convenience be damned.

I've always been a strong advocate of the Montessori method in early childhood education. I attended a Montessori preschool and made sure that my girls also had that same experience. Tom and I researched the application of the methodology in the elementary grades and decided to check out the local Montessori elementary schools. We discovered a very small, fully accredited and affordable one just a stone's throw away from Paige's school. We took a tour and were really pleased by what we saw. Ellen spent a day visiting (and being observed by the staff as well) and enjoyed it. But she didn't want to change schools. She conceded that she was miserable at her public school, but only "a little miserable" in her own words. She was afraid that they wouldn't have field trips and thought the playground wasn't big enough.

So Tom asked her if she trusted Mommy and Daddy. Tearfully, she said "No." Then he asked, "Well, do you trust me?" (note: she's a Daddy's Girl and occasionally wants to trade me in for a newer, shinier mommy who doesn't cook vegetables and thinks Little Debbie is a food group) She looked up at him with her giant Windex-blue eyes and said "Well . . . maybe so." He then told her that he remembered changing jobs once and wondering who he'd eat lunch with, being bored for a few days until everything got settled, and wondering if he'd miss his other office friends. Then he assured her that he made new friends, had plenty of interesting things to do all day (okay, now I know what he looks like lying . . .LOL) and that he still talked to his old friends when he wanted. She agreed to give it another try and came home the next day in love with her new school and already talking about her new friends.

So there you have it. Who would have ever thought that our pledge to treat them as individuals would mean separate elementary schools with completely different approaches to instruction? But it is all about looking at each child and giving each what they need to learn, grow, and make the most of their gifts.

I'm sure I'll update this blog with more info on the Montessori method, what Ellen and Paige are up to, and how the adjustment pans out.

Adios!