June Cleaver Nirvana

For better or worse is often a statement meant when made.

For better or worse is easily forgotten when it is better.

For better or worse is easily abandoned when it is worse.

That is why the love story of Brian and Angie is so compelling. Brian and Angie were given only a few weeks of better. Brian and Angie lived in love holding each other through almost 12 years of worse. Together they redefined worse into something better.

Something inspirational.

***

I haven't met Angie in person, but someday I will...even if I have to hunt her down. She is someone I consider a friend. A friend that I wish was closer so I could pop in and make sure she is doing OK.

I wanted to do or send her something to let her know that I am thinking about her. When I was contacted about a potential giveaway for my blog I had an idea...

In Praise of Mom is a LIVE EVENT to celebrate Mother's Day happening in 450 movie theaters across the country on May 5 (with a taped encore on May 6). The companion book celebrating all things motherhood - Dr. Laura: In Praise of Mom is in stores now.

When I told the people at Dr. Laura a small portion of Angie's story they were in full agreement that she should be the recipient of two tickets to the event and a signed book which are in the mail to her now.

As a friend, I hope that a few hours out of the house giggling about motherhood might help. Even if just a little. Besides...it was that better or worse thing that caused the whole motherhood thing.

***

If YOU would like to enter to win two tickets to the LIVE EVENT and a signed copy of the book In Praise of Mom click over to Burb Mom for a chance to win.

***

No comments here today...please leave them over at Angie's place.

Yes, Friends of Nirvana the bondage called Blog365 has been broken. Holly is now free to blog at her own pace. Let's all circle around, join hands and have a little Kum by Ya chorus. Oh, I am so kidding....I did end the Blog365 madness, but I am really not a touchy person so forget the circle, the hand holding and the chorus. Let's just shout with a joyful voice because today is...*drum roll*...

Potluck day!

Today's extravaganza of extraordinary freeness will be held in a field of daisies on a red checkered table cloth. My seven children will sing Do-Re-Mi followed by an elaborate puppet show three children will delight you with knock knock jokes that all end in "orange you glad..." followed by some bathroom humor that will get them sent to their rooms for time-out which will give us some peace and quiet for the potluck.

In honor of my lovely Saturday night out with fellow bloggers, I am providing food from the nice Italian restaurant where we met:
(Left to right: Me, Lisa, TX Poppet, AFF and Elaine)
We really didn't sit all in a row like we were on a blog panel. I also didn't forget my camera, but like 99% of all photos taken of me...my eyes are closed. It was a really fun evening. These girls are very funny. It was a bonus to find out that Lisa was thrilled to ride in the minivan of death that looks like a boat from above.



As you know, I have had some issues with Google. Some recent Google searches have ended here terribly wrong. BUT today I am singing the praises of the search engine powerful because it sent me someone who searched, "cute kids pictures with great expressions". Good Google. Good Google.

Another momentous moment in Nirvana-Google history also occurred with the search of the word "horridity" which I invented a few months ago and proclaimed:
"*I realize this is not a word, but someday someone will Google it and find this and use it and then another and another and someday you will use it with full knowledge that you heard it here first."
--Holly, January 2008

Well, this week it happened! Someone searched my word "horridity" and ended up at the Nirvana. In research for this highly researched post, I found that I am the second site that comes up for "horridity". I am right after the UrbanDictionary which has listed it for years...crap. Crapicity. Yep, that one is mine. Take that UrbanDictionary. Oh, and Google I better be listed FIRST when the "crapicity" search comes around.

It has come to my attention that my floor was complaining about me. Ixnay the itchingbay or I am buying a bird:
This is what Jenny came home to yesterday after being away from home for a few days (and her kids weren't even home yet). Thank God she had the blogger presence to snap a picture before cleaning it up.

Let's revisit the hypothetical mother who hypothetically locked her hypothetical three children on the hypothetical back porch for a hypothetical moment of silence:

This picture sums up the hypothetical children:
The oldest stands at the door complaining and screaming.
The middle child sits down waiting patiently for change.
The youngest takes action attempting to break back in the house.

Ryan asked today while chomping down on a drumstick, "If this is part of the chicken's leg, what is he walking on?"

And this joyful potluck will end on this life is grand moment:

Welcome home cousin Benjamin...

Happy Potluck day everyone. It is Monday! Can I get a whoop whoop? OK, if you aren't up to that, just lift up your hands and raise the roof a bit...


Today I am calling in the ice cream truck for treats:
We spent an absolutely perfect day at the park this weekend that ended with a visit from the ice cream truck. It doesn't get much better then sticky minivan seats and blue dyed hands and mouth. Oh, and the blue Popsicle pops also had random gumballs lodged throughout. Perfect to feed your 2 y/o in the car. Can I get a whoop whoop? OK, if you aren't up to that, just lift up your hands and raise the roof a bit...

The ice cream truck thing might make up for this hypothetical occurrence:
Would it be hypothetically wrong for a hypothetical mother to hypothetically lock her hypothetical three children out on the hypothetical back porch for a hypothetical moment of silence and hypothetically photograph it? Just a hypothetical question...

Since there aren't any major tree decorating holidays in the near future, let me just share what happened here the other day:
Merry Construction!


Yeah! It's time for another installment of...
I have been feeling a little guilty here at the Nirvana for mocking how my dear readers arrive. That is wrong. It shouldn't matter how you get here. You are here now and that is what matters. On the other hand...
1. If you googled, "pictures of Joan Cleaver", I am so sorry that you didn't find any of those. Might I suggest you mean June?
2. If you googled, "nude Easter bunny waking", I would email Google up ASAP and file a complaint. Google should know better then to send you here.
3. If you googled, "put down the cleaver", my answer is yes, please do.
4. If you googled, "fritos on the floor", I know who you are and you might want to check your Google results for any unusual search results regarding a certain Holiday Dog.
5. In a disturbing trend, googling "june cleaver nude" has overtaken googling "june cleaver naked" this week by 5:1. In either case, you know Nirvana policy. That is just wrong.
6. If you googled, "it feels so good to let me show you how I feel" then you are welcome and I am glad to help.

I recently received this from Jerseygirl189:
Thank you so much. I am returning the hug and then passing this award on to:
Meg
Madge
Holly
Jennifer
JCK
Angie

The Nirvana was graced with this from: Tootsie Farklepants:
Thank you! I think you are super, duper excellent in a NC-17 way and will pass this award on to:
Momo Fali
Mommy Cracked
Greta and Kiki
Queen Mommy
Christine

KEEP BELIEVING sent the following bling my way:
Angie's blog is incredibly inspirational. She can put my petty stuff in perspective in a matter of sentences. Please, please add her hubby, Brian to your prayer list. Thank you for the tiara. I am wearing it now and passing it on to:
Rachael
MoscowMom
Pinky
Jennifer
Rachel

I have to share a moment of successful mommyhood. Ryan(7) said this to me the other day, "I guess it is better then nothin'". WOW! I know to most that wouldn't mean much, but to have those words come out of Ryan who has been a give him an inch he will take 5 miles while debating the merits of taking another 105 miles and then declaring that he won't even take the inch next time unless he is guaranteed the additional 105 miles kinda boy since birth, this is major. MAJOR!

Oh! A few more days left to get your name into my very first give away. Click here and leave a comment for a chance to win a copy of Jenny Gardiner's book "Sleeping With Ward Cleaver"!

So there you have it. Today's potluck. I guess it was better than nothin'. Can I get a whoop, whoop? OK, if you aren't up to that, just lift up your hands and raise the roof a bit...

Happy Friday Frump-No-Mores!

Today we are expanding on our lesson from last week. Because here at the Nirvana, I aim to beat a dead horse explore frump fighting to it's fullest. Last week we discussed how a room full of dead people and a house full of monkeys inspired me to stalk George Clooney at Target. All right, that may not have been the best summary, but I have a short attention span.

I started working on this post yesterday afternoon. Well, not actually THIS post because what I was working on was even worse then THIS so I dumped it. BUT in the middle of my brilliant thought a very LOUD sound enveloped my house. FIRE ALARM. Not just one, but all the smoke detectors were going off. I ran upstairs and grabbed my children and ran outside to designated meeting place in case of fire. No smoke. No fire. Very loud noise. I finally called the fire department's NON-emergency number and explained what was happening. 4 minutes later sirens blaring the fire truck arrived with 5 firemen in full fire gear. 4 minutes later the ambulance was on the scene with 2 more men jumping out of emergency vehicle. So, in the course of 10 minutes I now had 7 of our city's bravest searching my house (crap! my closet) and reporting back to me. It was not George Clooney, but really...I was glad I wasn't clothed in fuzzy robe and slippers.*

This week in Colorado another almost-George Clooney moment happened over at Eat, Play, Love when fellow frump fighters holding a play date ended up on the evening news. It turned out great because they looked just adorable, but it makes you think...what would happen if news cameras found you at the park?

So how do you become O.I.A.B.I.G.C.A.T. (Oh! I Accidentally Bumped Into George Clooney At Target) ready?

I will take my inspiration from one of the greatest films of all time. A cinematic masterpiece. A movie with few rivals: What About Bob? Yes, What About Bob! Bob is diagnosed crazy, but an excellent therapy student. He constantly reminds himself out loud and under his breath through just about any task, "Baby steps, baby steps to the...." Baby steps is what we need! Baby steps ensures that change happens slowly. Baby steps keeps wild swings in check. Baby steps helps keep clothing budgets under control.

Today's baby step I am advocating is T-shirt replacement. One of the mommy staples is the plain T-shirt or the slogan T-shirt *shudder*. Bye, bye slogan T's. Now let's make a plan upgrade the plain ones...

I am shopping for plain t-shirt alternatives. I want to find things that just step-up the style without giving up comfort.

Consider exhibit A:
This is an eyelet shirt from Target (I think it was $17.99). Please excuse the wrinkles...I pulled it out of the laundry to photograph it. I doubt Martha Stewart has ever done that. Anyway, I have washed it multiple times. It washes really well, requires no ironing, is really comfortable and an upgrade from my usual T-shirt.

Consider exhibit B:
This is a polo shirt by Bitten. It retails for $7.99. Karla introduced this line in one of the first Fight the Frump Fridays. I was very skeptical because I have a long torso and ANY shrinkage will cause an ordinary shirt to become a belly shirt on me. I have washed this several times and it still fits like it did the first time. I love the sleeves. They have a little gathering on the top to make it a bit more feminine.

Please join Fussy and friends for more fight the frump. Please look to upgrade your t-shirts. Please let me know if you run into George Clooney or a suitable replacement...


*The conclusion of that story was the the fire chief saying, "Hmmmm. We have never seen anything quite like that. You need to get an electrician out to see why the alarms are activated." That isn't good news. Thank God I looked cute.

Hip, hip hooray...it is Monday! Monday can only mean one thing. If you look Monday up in the dictionary, you see the definition: POTLUCK.

Today's potluck is a celebration. Why? The Nirvana made Fussy's Linkapalooza for my Fight the Frump post on Friday. In honor of this momentous occasion today's potluck will be held on cloud 9. That would be the actual cloud 9, not the shady looking strip club off the freeway just outside of Abilene with the same name. Which brings me to broach this sensitive subject...
One of you arrived after googling, "Nude photos of Mrs. June Cleaver". Now, I am just going to turn my back and you may leave quickly and quietly and we will forget this all happened. I think we all know that those types of searches are just wrong. Thank you. Oh, don't you just love, love, love the new graphics for that segment? Thanks to the genius of Nap Warden all my crazy whims come true.

I have even swept the floor (just in case Fussy or any of her friends drop in) and it is Frito free:
For today's potluck I am contributing my world famous animal shaped Belgium waffles.
You may choose from a barn, a rooster, a cow or another different shaped cow. You must choose quickly or my shapist children will leave you with this:
Yes, this is the dreaded headless cow. For some reason headless animals are shunned. I can not properly correlate this since the first thing my children do is eat the head. I try to push the headless animals with the catchy slogan, "just think of it as bite 2".

Please excuse the interruption by the I.F.P.A. (Institute For Potluck Advancement):
My baby he don't talk sweet
He ain't got much to say
But he loves me, loves me, loves me
I know that he loves me anyway

And maybe he don't dress fine
But i don't really mind
Because every time he pulls me near
I just want to cheer

Lets hear it for the potluck
Lets give the potluck a hand
Lets hear it for my potluck
You know you potluck to understand

Whoa, maybe he's no romeo
But he's my lovin potluck show
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Let's hear it for the potluck

Great, the IFPA may have observed me dancing to Jennifer's posted music video causing nostalgia for 80s music. I don't think changing the words of an 80s song to include "potluck" is helping the universal potluck objective. It is just the tip of the iceberg with these IFPA guys. I am not happy with their work to date. In fact, I came across this:
This is the Nirvana's master plan. Please note if the IFPA could get their act together I would be 2/3 in my quest for world wide blog domination. They are so fired unless they come up with something better.

I need to apologize to a fellow blogger, name sharer and play date friend, Holly for throwing her under the bus at Tootsie's Weekly Advice column. I may have come across a little harsh in my assessment of the jon-jon. I may have wanted to look cool in class. I may have wanted to re-direct the attention somewhere else. After some soul-searching, I can admit to 1 (maybe 2) of my boys wearing jon-jons after the age of 18 months. Admitting that I have a problem is step one. Excuse me while I finish my Tootsie recommended home renovation...

*while Holly is out of the room, the IFPA guys walk in, see an opportunity and post this:*
The Ginsu 12 Piece POTLUCK Set Features:
Ginsu POTLUCKS are specialized for their dexterity in chopping, slicing and dicing a wide array of foods.
Ginsu POTLUCKS are forged from Japanese steel that is known for its stain and rust resistance, strength, and its ability to hold an incredibly sharp edge.
Ginsu POTLUCK handles are made of heat and water resistant resin.
This fabulous POTLUCK set includes an incredibly strong and visually stunning bamboo POTLUCK block.

*Holly returns. Holly reads. Holly rants. Holly can't believe it. Holly is irate. Holly won't stand for this nonsense on her blog. Holly exchanges blows with the IFPA. Holly is victorious (Holly has spent many an afternoon observing karate classes). Holly kicks some IFPA butt. Holly is all that and a bag of chips. Holly wonders how long people will continue to read this crap written in the third person.*

I now want to apologize to Fussy and any of her fabulous friends that came to visit today. Really, this is a celebration. It should not have come to blows. I want you to know that I realize how this reflects on me. I will do better. I will work harder. My next post will be better. By Friday's fight the frump, I should have my "A" game back...

*Please, please act normal when you enter. DO NOT mention what went down here two days ago. I am going to carry on as if nothing happened. You know how Mondays can get...*
Happy Monday. You know what that means...(electronic drum roll from Rock Band creating oodles of points needed to unlock better songs)...POTLUCK! Yeah! Today I am contributing Herb Sliders featured on this week's menu plan at Blissfully Domestic. I am on my way to Target to get the supplies and if the kids all take 4 hour naps this afternoon I might be able to pull this off. The 4 hour time frame is in no way a reflection of the recipe author, it is more about user error. I love the IDEA of cooking, it is the EXOCUTION that worries me. The word "exocution" is a perfect fit in that sentence. So, if you are hungry now and need snacks there are a few leftover goldfi...shhhhhh.

There are several handwritten home made signs on posts (the kind that you would see for garage sale advertisement) at busy intersections nearby that read "2 Cool 4 Skool Home Daycare" followed by a phone number that is a cell number. Let me just make these bold statements: If you are selecting your child's daycare off of homemade signs sporting cell numbers at busy intersections, childcare may be the least of your problems. And to the "2 Cool" people...LOOK UP! There is a Kinkos right there! Go get a real sign!

This made me laugh very hard from Watch Me Christine. Which brings up the fancy new widget I am displaying to the right. It is my top ten most favoite recent posts and it is updated minutely regularly. Most these things are very, very funny because really, who can't use a good chuckle? So if you are bored and looking for a laugh, I have done all the work for you and searched out the most current giggles off my reader.

Speaking of work, my blogroll is currently under construction because it was the blogroll I designed when I had one non-relative reader. Please be distracted by the fancy new widget!

Thanks to Frog Ponds Rock for this sweet bouquet. I love visiting her site for the scenery. It is like a mini vacation.I would like to pass it on to everyone who made a comment on this post. I nearly fainted dead away...47 people! Thank you soooooo much. You have no idea how cool that is (Ok, some of you know how cool that is on a regular basis, but not me). And, if you go comment now to put me over 50 there is a bouquet of flowers in it for ya (is that too greedy?) So here I am again exceeding my blog spending limit, but no one carted me off to blogjail last time...can I say repeat offender? Someone should really write a manual so I know the rules.

Yeah, I am really sorry about the earlier post, but you have to look down there to catch up...just kidding..I think you will catch on pretty quickly that I was losing my mind. To further prove that theory, please note the above picture. Ryan wanted to put Rhett's new Thomas train set under the tree "like a real train set" so I pulled the tree away from the wall and we built the track. It looks like it fits until you get the train on there and then it just pulls branches away and ornaments off. Not a successful scientific experiment, but a successful mess.

I want to thank a mommy friend for coming over and rescuing me from myself this afternoon. The baby who needed a 3 hour nap took a 35 minute one and the other boys were running wild. It was all solved by kid playtime, adult conversation, delivery pizza, the return of blog-Stedman and two baths (one for the boys and one for me). Whew...it is exhausting living happily ever after.

Today I am contributing my mother's peanutbutter roast along with chickpea salad. If I remember correctly I sat at a table for 3 1/2 hours in front of that meal when I was 9 "cleaning my plate". My mother reads my blog so all I can allude to is that while a few bites were swallowed, we did have a very hungry dog named Cindy whose palate was not as refined as mine. So pull up a chair, you may be here awhile.

Thanks for rescuing my non-tech brain with the information on the strike through text as appears in my title today. I promise not to abuse my new power.

Rhett's party went well last night. It was family, pizza, cake and more presents then most children see in a year. He had a ball. I forgot to include in yesterday's dribble that eating is like breathing to him and the menu was inhaled enthusiastically.

My mother conceded after reading the last potluck that dad recently ran out of gas with her in the car. They were all dressed up and returning from church in his new 2008 red corvette when the car ran out of gas within 1/8 of a mile from the gas station. My dad excitedly jumped out of the car congratulating himself for choosing such a good location to run out of gas and walked to the station. My mom slid out and plodded in the opposite direction hoping strangers passing by wouldn't put the two together. There was further confirmation of the "running on empty" gene when my brother admitted to rarely filling up to the right of "E" to the delight of his lovely bride.

I am now 61 days behind on my fly lady duties. The stress! What exactly is her intention in sending me 6 emails a day telling me to declutter my life?

I love that my new friend Rachel didn't know that I grew up with her husband/family. What fun! Her husband's parents and my parents are really good friends and we grew up spending Saturday evenings at one another's house while the adults played games. We quickly (that is my recollection) learned that as long as the kids stayed playing quietly in the basement we didn't have to go home to bed. This lead to heated, WHISPERED negotiation as to how to keep everyone quiet--almost like a 70's Kid's Nation. As a parent, I marvel at the genius of having a house full of quiet kids while playing cards. I suspect Rachel might have a few delightful vegetarian recipes for future potlucks...

This is my world...I call the shots and today is devoted to my friend Michelle (who hasn't joined the blogworld, yet...). I met Michelle at the gym several years ago a few weeks after she moved to Texas. If you believe her side of the story, I walked up to her and stated that since she didn't have any friends she was stuck with me. My recollection of the event is much more refined, sophisticated and friendly. I love Michelle because she has no verbal filtering system. If she thinks it, she says it. It is very refreshing and down-right funny. We were known to subject area restaurants to between 3 and 5 kids between us after a work-out. She dragged me to cardio (kicking, screaming) and I dragged her to yoga (grumbling, complaining). Then Michelle moved. I have been so upset I am boycotting cardio until she returns (well, that isn't exactly a sacrifice, but a grand gesture anyway). Here is a declaration to the entire state of Pennsylvania--please make my friend feel welcome. Please stop her in the gym and tell her that she is now your friend...

P.S. Michelle emailed me yesterday and demanded that she be put in my blog, but that doesn't change that all the above is true.
P.P.S. Please note that the haiku is also for Michelle so that she sees I covered all my bases.