Sex Talk

Last Christmas Eve (2008) I decided I wasn't waiting any longer for Big Shooter to get over...well, whatever he needed to get over to have the Sex Talk with the Boy Child so I could have the same talk with the Girl Child. 
So I decided to do it myself.  Both of them.  At the same time.

Let's just say I now have the best advice in the world to hand out to parents all over the world trying to save themselves from having to do the Sex Talk more than once. 

Do more than one.  Do as many as children you have.  Do practice sessions.  Do extras.
Just don't do them AT THE SAME TIME!  Ever.

I'm not going to get into the whole conversation and questions here.  Just know that when some certain information finally sank in,  Boy Child sputtered and choked, "I have to do what to my wife??"...in front of his sister.  And later, "Do I have to?  Will I get a divorce if I don't want to?" 

And Girl Child?  Poor Girl Child.  She couldn't say anything for days other than, "Mommy, does it really, really, really hurt when the baby comes out?  Or just really hurt?"  I felt awful for her.  I'd crushed her little Mommyhood Bubble.  The girl was meant to me a Momma.  Aside from all the tom-boy, dirt, animal-loving and  target shooting...she just wants to be a fantastic Momma.  She talks about it all the time.   She practices.  She plans it.  She dreams about it.  Ooooh the trauma of learning the truth!

Now, mind you, I made it all wonderful, ooey-gooey and lovey-dovey.  I really did.  In fact, I've shared how I approached it with many mommas and daddies who have shared it in the same fashion.

That isn't the problem.

It's the natural curiosity since it all start soaked in + the unabashed openness the Shooter Household is known for that makes, at times, even my toes curl with the questions these precious little maturing Crumb Snatchers now ask.

No matter when or where we are (much, much, MUCH to Big Shooter's chagrin), if they ask a question about sex answer as honestly as I possibly can.  After a year of this it's not a big deal any more and I love the fact they trust us enough to ask all the questions that just seem to pop in their heads from out of left field. 
I am also relieved to announce, after a year, Big Shooter has chilled out and can now calmly field a tough sexual question instead of directing all traffic my way.

This all brings me to today's conversation while driving to a movie.

We were parked at a corner with a gentelmen's club on Boy Child's side of the car.  Girl Child said, "Ick.  Did anyone read that banner?  It said, 'Coldest Beer and Hottest Girls in Town'.  Now who in this car would want that???"  Big Shooter tightened my hand bc we've been wondering when we'd have to address the strip club issue since we live on the side of Plainsville these establishments are seen more often.  Before we could say anything, Girl Child reported from the backseat, "Ummm guys...you should know...your son just raised his hand.  Apparently, he wants cold beer and hot girls."
Now my hand held a death grip on Big Shooter's since he was trying to suppress a grin.  (Have I ever shared the one testicle story about Boy Child?  If not, just know Big Shooter gets a big kick and sigh of relief whenever our boy shows any natural interest in girls... Then remind me after the Blessed Event - Olympics - is finished and I'll tell you how we have a Leftie - as in, he has only one left.)

 After our cautious explanation, they both came to their own conclusions.
These were that Girl Child didn't want to become a stripper. (sigh of relief)
And Boy Child had apparently changed his mind about wanting cold beer and hot girls once he found out they were naked.  (sigh of relief from me...a "go figure" shrug from his father). 
I guess we did our religious, right-wing-nut-job, conservative, redneck jobs well.

Although, when they fully understood what actually took place, they naturally went to the sex subject.  They both asked questions about the actions and attitudes of a strip joint leading to sex, the desire for sex and sexual temptaions...Sex, sex, SEX!  (Is this all these spawn think about now??)

Before we had time to gather our thoughts on all the questions and decide where to start, Girl Child very firmly declared, "Well, I've decided if I'm ever tempted...I'm just gonna slap a sticker on my flower that says OUT. OF. ORDER!"

Big Shooter released the steering wheel, threw his hands in the air, and shouted...
"AMEN!!"

Yep.  We're making progress.

Love Note to My Big Shooter:  Yep, sex, sex, SEX... I wonder where they get that from?  Hmmmm.  Heh, heh.

Name game

I'm a name girl. Always have been.

I love names.

Naming my own children was like running a marathon.

We had the names we'd call them everyday picked out before they were a twinkle in Big Shooter's eyes. It was the middle names that gave us problems. Since I'd taught school, every name that came into contention I had a distinct like or dislike of.

Boy Child was not near as difficult as Girl Child though.

Big Shooter and I could NOT agree.

I thought we'd come to an agreement on the way to the hospital.

So did he.

Until he went with her to the nursery and I listened intently to the anesthesiologist and my O.B. G.'s conversation... then I wanted to change my mind. I loved the anesthesiologist's daughter's name. AND it was my great-granny's maiden name to boot! Ashton. I loved it.

(Of course I loved Cody Ryan, Paxton, Merry and Yancy too.)

She (the OB) and Big Shooter would have nothing to do with it. They were tired of me and my mind changing. So, they filled out the birth certificate with all the names Big Shooter and I had previously agreed on and I signed it.

Girl Child is blessed with four names.

Poor girl. She still can't wrap her mind around it.

What brought all this up?

Well remember my sweet, new, alternative-livin', heavily tattooed and very young neighbors? Did I mention they were 7 1/2 prego?

With Juniper.

I love that name.


Love Note to my Big Shooter: Thank you for stepping in. You knew who they both were the moment you laid eyes on them. Me, on the other hand, was irrational with extremely high raging prego hormones and couldn't think clearly. You saved the day as usual. Sigh. I love you.

Crumb Snatchers have threatened to Revolt

because I, apparently, haven't "taken the pig flu thing serious enough" and we are still...

I was very tempted to say we'd be out of school for that reason when...

but then again thought better of it. Pigs fly is a little to close to pig flew or flu...

They heard on the news that Dallas schools are closed all week. They wanted to know, "Why? Why?? Why...couldn't they have a cool mom?" Instead of one that makes the...

I explained that this...and this...

was not going to enter our school grounds to infect them in any way. So put on your big boy underwear and big girl panties and DEAL WITH THE OLD MEAN SCHOOL MARM.

That's when Girl Child threatened to do this......or REVOLT.

First, I asked her to spell it.
She did.

Then I asked her if she could tell me the correct meaning.
She did.

Then I offered to give her a free ride to either the Health Department or DHS. Her pick.
She didn't...like my attitude. She told me.

This is what I looked like when I cracked myself up...

Even though we now have confirmed cases of Swine Flu here in Okie-Homa. I cannot convince myself it's serious. Is it the name? Is it the thought? Is it all hype?

Are all the swine feeling this way about now...

What are your deep thoughts on the matter? Do you have the epidemic pig flu of 09 in your neck of the woods? Did you have your flu shot? Do you prefer tangy & sweet BBQ sauce or spicy and bold?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Hey big guy. I have bupkus tonight. That's a rarity. I always have some thing to say to you. So soak up the silence my friend. Soak it on up.

What's another name for Who-ha and/or the Nether Reigns?

Note to Male Readers, my Dad and Sashi: The following info will most likely get too personal and graphic for your sensibilities. Trust me: Stop reading now. If you don't...all I can say is, "I told you so."

I ask the question in the title because Girl Child, the one who has always referred to her who-ha by it formal, scientific name, was completely embarrassed and appalled when I said, "pelvis" today in the swimming pool.
"Mommmmmy! Don't say that so loud!!"
At first I was confused. Then the origin of her confusion dawned on me. Or so I thought.
"Oh honey it's okay, I said pel-vis, not pe-nis."
"I know. Pe-nis is okay. But don't say that other word so loud...or at all. Please?" she begged while looking around mortified to see who had heard me utter such a vulgar word in public.

Pelvis.
I can see the look on her face right now. She'll probably still be mortified at 80 when someone says it's time for their yearly pelvis exam.

There are just certain words in every person's life that can light their face up like a cherry no matter their age.

I can't personally think of any right now for myself...but, when I was younger? Oh yes. There were plenty. Any of the names my spawn now use for certain body parts would have sent me into hiding for a year. Any thing that had to do with that pesky monthly visitor, Mrs. Flow, would have me quivering in the corner as well.

I am trying to keep this in mind as the Crumb Snatchers are obviously reaching an age where certain familiar or everyday terms are becoming landmines. I don't want to embarrass them on purpose (well, that's a big, fat lie right there), so I am seeking advice from others on what is, was or will most likely be some touchy words, subjects, topics in the very near future from your own personal experiences.

Do you remember yours? How did you successfully navigate them or with your kiddos?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I know all the great little tidbits my sweet readers are going to leave are going to be like candy to you...but, please, please try to restrain yourself. At least until the Crumbs are teens when they'll totally just die.

Kids in the 'hood are Brilliant

We all know there is no fun quite like Snow Fun...
Well here in the 'hood, we do it up right.
First, the conditions have to be perfect.
They were.
Thick layer of ice.
Followed by a nice cushy layer of damp snow.
Perfect slicker'n snot conditions for slidin' and sleddin'.

First, you outfit 'em up with high tech Slippin'-n-Slidin' gear.

The kind found at Target and Wal*Mart.

Then turn 'em loose in the streets.

Yes, that is his shoe pokin' through.

It was a fabulous idea...in my head.

You encourage them to be creative in their work.

If that isn't a Hood Snowgirl, then I need to close shop.

She's got her colors.

Her spiked bling.

Her flinty gaze,

a big caboose,

...and huge ta-tas.

Now with my Girl unknowingly enhancing them for me.

Thank you for that Sugar.

Your father is gonna be so proud of this post.

Gratuitous picture of my Baby.

He does not know he isn't a husky.

He thinks God created the white fluffy stuff just for him.

I was hoping to show you how absolutely gorgeous the ice was sparkling and shimmering in the sunlight. But alas, this picture does not give you the oooo ~ ahhhh feeling I was searching for.
Sorry.

No doubt this one of my baby, Olliver will though.

Okay, I'll stop! I can tell by his look and yours...

I snapped this right before we headed to The Hill.

Now, the saddest part of this post is I did not have my camera with me at The Hill. For if I did, you'd have to agree the kids in the 'hood, when left to their own devices, are brilliant and creative thinkers. Real problem solvers.

Not all the kiddos out sleddin' today had the great joy and privilege of owning a real sled, toboggan, disk or other snow vehicle.

So they got creative, solved the dilemma and provided for themselves.

Here's a short list of what I saw in action or deserted on The Hill today:

• The typical garbage can lids.
• Giant plastic sheeting.
• Standard Okie blue tarp. (Their Daddy'll miss that coverin' one of his cars in the yard...)
• Skateboards with no wheels.
• Ice chest lid.
• An ice chest.
• Laundry baskets galore.
• A gi-normous wok.
• Cardboard. (if you're moving, The Hill is your box source.)
• A cookie sheet.
• A plastic flexible cutting board.
• Metal flashing.
• A realtor sign. (I should have taken old JBF signs and hocked 'em for a buck a pop. Coulda made Sashi and I a coupla bucks!)
• A full size trash can.

And my two favorites...

1. A full size pickup truck bed liner. (It carried a whole block's worth of kiddos.)
2. And a Kiddie Pool. (It carried the whole fam damily. Including the dog.)

All in all it was a fabulous day.

We saw some spectacular crashes on the homemade jobbies.

The kids realized the whiny-hiney episode of owning only one serviceable sled at the moment was small and petty when they looked around and realized at least they had one. I was very proud of the way they eagerly shared theirs and experimented with the offered alternatives.

Oh, and their vocabulary was expanded today. Not in a good kinda expansion either. But hey! At least the poor neglected homeschoolers were socializing with their peers.

They came home sopping wet, freezing cold, red-faced and smiling from ear to ear.

I sure hope that wasn't our last Snow Day of the winter cause I'm hoping Taco Bandito (Sashi's lover) can hook the Shooter fam up with a truck bed liner for the next big snow.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: You missed it today Bubba! I know you wanted me to put their go-cart helmets on 'em...but Love, I already scar them by educating them at home. I just couldn't add Over Protective to the mix today...

Fact of the Day: Why is it significant that the first Roosevelt dime was issued on this day in 1946? Because in 1937 the then POTUS, who himself was afflicted with polio, asked his fellow Americans to each send him a dime for polio research, they did. He received 150,000 letters a day for months. He called the event The March of Dimes. On April 15, 1955, exactly ten years after Roosevelt's death, Dr. Jonas Salk announced his discovery of the first polio vaccine. Hence, when it came time to honor the late President, Congress chose the dime.

"Hello Principal Shooter? Yeah (fake cough), I need a sub today..."

I figure that's what I may need to do after Big Shooter's misplaced words of yesterday's post.

Silly man. He has no idea what is about to be set before him!

(This would be BS after, oh say 10 minutes, of teaching the Crumbs...)

My mom does.

And she won't do it again.

Be my substitute.

When Big Shooter came home from the little surgery in which they cut him in half and removed a cancer ridden organ and I was still fulfilling his fantasy of servant, I mean nurse, my very brave momma agreed to teach the Crumbs for me a couple days so they wouldn't get too far behind.

Picture of Brave Momma teaching the Crumbs

How'd that turn out?

Wellll, let me ask you what you were like when you walked into class and saw an easy target - a.k.a. a substitute teacher?

It went about this good:

I'm just pulling your leg. Well, about the easy target substitute part....

And now speaking of school, I have decided since a majority of my days are taken up with school I would like to share a little fact each day. Starting with today.

Where were you when...?

...this happened 23 years ago today?

I was a junior in Chemistry class. And I can hear President Reagan's words in my head to this day, "...when they slipped the surly bonds of this Earth and touched the face of God."

Love Note to my Big Shooter: Sorry to dampen your mood in the end Big Guy. I have another fact you might find enjoyable. Cause I think it's a guy thing? Yesterday (when I wanted to start a Fact a Day), Thomas Crapper, the guy who invented...well, you know, would have been 99 years old.

Sawdust... It's what's for dinner.

I need some help. More specifically, I need some recipe ideas. I know I just lost a bunch of you right there. But if you like challenges, this is your game. I promise. If you can come up with a meal I can serve the two males (Girl Child can just suffer through and I will be thrilled to cook one meal at a time.) I will put your name in a drawing for one of these re-usable bags.

And if you come up with TWO (oh.my.word. I would be giddy with excitement!) recipes for the males to eat at once I'll put you in the drawing for this as well!

Here's why:

Big Shooter's eating woes: He has gastroparisis (stomach is paralyzed) so he can have no fiber. No fiber. Did you know there is fiber in coffee? He can eat very few veggies, IF they are cooked to mush. No salads. NO berries. No fruits... well, I can put a few fresh ones in front of him, IF I peel them first. And I'm not talking the ones you think of when you say peel here either, like grapes. NO legumes or nuts of any kind. NO seeds or grains of any kinds. No oats or brown rice. Basically, for the gastroparisis he can eat white enriched flour and white rice with a side of air. Now, here's where I always screw it up, since he had his gallbladder removed he cannot tolerate (that's my nice way of saying how his body reacts) ANY fats, oils or spice either. Whenever I hear of some scrumptious meal made of white enriched flour or nutritious white rice I jump right on it in hopes he will like it. What I always seem to forget about are the fats, oils and spices in it to jazz it up... Bad, bad wife.

Anyone see my dilemma?

Let's move on to Boy Child's allergies: He is allergic to soy, corn, wheat, and peanuts. Only four things. They just happen to be the four ingredients in every thing...

Now Girl Child is not allergic or ill. Her affliction is pickiness: NO meat. Okay, maybe a small nibble of a pork chop. Eggs? Occasionally, but mostly eeeh. Milk? In cereal, but for the most part, eeeh. Veggies? EEEEh, except a few raw carrots. Fruits? eeeh, except grapes and an occasional orange. Our rule is: You have to at least try a bite of what ever we serve. She does so without complaint. Then calmly gags. She doesn't make a big deal of it. She doesn't whine or complain that she is starving b/c she chose not to eat...and she is. This has completely caught me off guard. This is the child who orders tomato florentine soup and calamari for lunch, but won't finish a couple pieces of grilled chicken breast to save her life. What does she like? Any bread or pasta related food out there. She would eat her way out of an Olympic size pool if it was filled with simple sugar carbs like white bread or spaghetti. (She can't do wheat because it doesn't feel or look right.) I wonder at times if she has acquired this newish pickiness because of how much time, effort and thought I have to put into meals for the other two...

Anyway, there it is. Back when Big Shooter still had his gallbladder and before cancer, when he still had his kidney, and before his stomach just decided to stop working one day, it really was rather simple to feed Boy Child. Meat, veggies, oat breads, fruits, legumes, berries, nuts...healthy whole foods. Now? Not so easy for the momma. We three have gained tremendous amounts of weight eating what Daddy can tolerate and Boy Howdy, that has been BAD! So basically I cook two meals each night. I would so love to NOT HAVE TO DO THAT!

Okay, done whining! Thanks for your ideas. I know you all will come up with things I would never have thought of. That's why I am finally sharing.

Love Note to Big Shooter: Sorry I outed your health issues to the bloggy world again. But these are super smart and creative thinkers who visit here! They will be able to offer you something besides white rice and air. I just know it! I love you.

It was like pushing the Rewind button...

Each time I took the camera out of it's case one of the Crumbs would comment, "Did ya see some thing else that reminds ya of when you were our age that ya need to blog about?"

Apparently, we drove them nuts with our eager beaver sharing of childhood stories...little twits.

I mean who wouldn't want to take a picture of one of the many tumble weeds traveling on it's way across the state???

Or our old swimming hole?

Big Shooter's comment was, "Did they re-do it out here? I remember that dock being a whole lot further out than that..."

It's amazing finding out how small our enormous childhoods really were.

They didn't say a word about me taking their pictures. Just struck a pose.

I didn't think to get a picture of my Aunt Kathy's pancakes. She's made them for Big Shooter and I now for 20+ years when we travel through Wyoming. They are the Best on the Planet. I have only tasted one other person's who come close. It was a little dive in a not so good part of Plainsville. One day they were open, the next day they were arrested for selling drugs out the back door. No, I am not kidding. No more pancakes unless we happen to be in Cheyenne. My sweet auntie is in charge of the dispatch office for the Cheyenne sheriff's department. I drove with her from Denver to Cheyenne and heard her in action. We encountered a situation that was getting more dangerous by the second so she immediately called 911 and reported, "Yes Ma'am, I've got a 120 involving a tractor trailer license number yada, yada, yada on Colorado I-80 northbound, mile marker 23 at 75 mph, please advise CHP units in the location." Thank goodness she was in the car or here would have been mine, "...uh yeah, there's a really big truck weaving in front of me that doesn't have any lights..."
I wish I'd thought ahead and taken a pic of those golden circles...but in there place I can share a picture of her son. I posted this pic just to get his goad. We're kissin' cousins. Our names rhyme. He just earned his doctorate. I still call him Butthead. That's his little Southern Belle-soon-to-be-wife. I love her. I want to marry her.
Also, since I didn't get pics of the pancakes I get to sneak in others that kinda, sorta have to do with my sweet auntie. This is her newest grandbaby.

My cute as a button girl cousin was big preg-GO when we went through Denver the first time. The day we left she had this little beauty. So the Crumbs and I got to snuggle with her on our way home.

Girl Child was in Hog Heaven.
I kid you not, I about fell over when Boy Child asked to hold her.
It was 10 seconds longer than he's ever held a baby before.
Ever.


Showing the Crumbs the Canyon was a highlight for both of us to revel and enjoy. We both have incredibly fond memories of the canyon as children and then dating.

Have I ever mentioned I floated in a hot air balloon in this canyon? I believe that is why I am now afraid of falling from great heights.

Y'all already heard about The Rock.

Does Boy Child look like Calvin to you? He does to me...even in his sister's purple striped hat with the flower.

What other things set off the Childhood memories?

Grandma's cookin' and playing games with her.

When Thanksgiving dinner was over she said in my ear, "You ready to play games girl? They are on the front passenger side floor board of my truck..."

She's 86.

She'd come prepared and ready to whip some tail.

The first we played is called Probe. It's been played in our family since the

early 60's. That was a blast from the past!
And the one we had been dying to do?

Eat at this hamburger joint.

They began in Twin Falls.

Now they are all over the surrounding areas.

We stopped at the first one we saw...

mmmm, they put a white sauce on their burgers instead of ketchup.

The Best on the Planet.

What do you look forward to when you visit your hometown?

What floats your boat?

What's your favorite blast from the past?

Do you ever wish you really could hit the rewind button?

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I do wish I could hit the rewind button again and again. There are so many times I'd love to re-live with you. Skiing, Chicago, Sun Valley, cookin' with your momma, havin' FIL save my butt a hundred times, seeing you walk in the Hallmark to chat, all those long drives across the states, walking the big dogs, snuggling in stormy weather, making Crumbs (wish I could remember Girl Child), watching our babies sleep...the list goes on and on. Thank you for always adding to it.

I need an air sick bag now...that got way too gag-a-rama for me...cough.

Easy Peezy Post

I am working on a post that is an emotion toll taker for me, so I needed a fluff post for today y'all. I think it will be ready for tomorrow.

In the mean time, I realized my dear, sweet, very missed friend Far Out Mom was right. I don't publish pics of myself very often. And I know how I do love it when other blog authors do. So for your entertainment (and my peace of mind) - more pictures from our Poe Dunk day excursion. (with a couple extra of me)

Do all boys do this? Or is mine showing unnatural early signs of something ominous??

In contrast, see how Girl Child is holding the buffalo's muzzle like it is living...?

Just my sweet, sweeet Boy again. (Sigh)...and my dirt lovin', leaves in her hair, bug huntin' Girl again. (sigh) (again)

Gratuitous pics.

Yes. There is that much difference.

He is 6'4.

I am 5'1, on a good day.

The end.

Love Note to my Big Shooter: I always forget,until I see a picture, how much we really do look like Mutt & Jeff. Heh.