Doesn't Everyone Name Their Cars?

We bought a new car today.

Well let me re-phrase that..... we bought a "new to us" car today. You see we haven't actually bought a brand-spankin right off the car lot car since 1991 but we have bought a few "pre-owned" vehicles through the years and the one thing the girls in the family find it necessary to do once we get a new car is to give it a name. I say the girls in the family because for some reason the guys in the family don't think giving names to inanimate objects is important. But we girls feel that they have to have names so we can coax them to start when they are a little hesitant to fire up or prod them along when they aren't picking up speed as quickly as we think they should. Okay that sounds slightly off.... but I know some of you talk to your cars and know what I mean even if you don't want to admit it.

I'm not sure when we started naming our cars but I think is started with Savannah's old beetle which was called "doodle". As a side note, about the same time she had doodle her cousin had a green truck that she named "Booger" thus proving that car naming is either a universal practice or at least a genetic trait. After doodle came a newer beetle that was also called doodle because we just think all beetles should be called doodle. It seems to fit their personalities.

Our volvo is called the "loser cruiser" by the kids and it kind of fits since it is a station wagon and well in my kids eyes it doesn't get much dorkier than that.

My car aquired it's name a few summers ago when the air-conditioner went out and we decided "Hot Flash" was a great name for it. Even though the air has since been fixed the name has stuck for various other reasons.

When Ciara got her truck it was aptly named "Mater" after the character in the Cars movie. We named it that because it is an old red truck and we are quite sure if it could talk it would sound like a goofy hillbilly just like the truck in the movie.

So a few weeks ago my mom decided that she was going to buy a new car and we decided to buy her old one so Ciara would have something a little more reliable than Mater when she goes off to college. This car should be more reliable because it is the epitomy of a "little old lady's" car. While it is older ( 2001) it only has 42,000 miles on it, has been kept in the garage it's whole life and the maintenence on it has been like clock work. So as we were driving over there to pick it up we were mulling over name possiblities. In the past 10 years there are three places that the car has been driven to consistently every week.... Church, Walmart, and the bingo hall.

So.. Ciara is now proudly driving her new car ... "Bingo".

The City Of Brotherly Love

This week finds me in Philadelphia. I'm so happy that I actually made it through the plane trip since seriously I would rather have a root canal than fly. But since I had to be here for work and not for pleasure, driving wasn't an option. I have however met some other women that are here for the same training and our hotel happens to offer complimentary wine and snacks each evening, we had a great time sharing "war" stories about or respective jobs. Since Philly is famous for its Cheese Steak, our group is on a quest to find the perfect one. Asking a native of Philadelphia where to find the best cheese steak is like asking a Houstonian where to get the best barbecue. Everyone has their own opinion. With this in mind, we may just have to sacrifice and try a couple of different places. Oh and there happens to be an ice cream parlor/chocolate factory right across the street from the hotel.

Traveling is hard work!

Remember the movie Rocky when he ran up those stairs as part of his training? I found out today that was filmed here in Philly. Instead of participating in the planned mall outing later this week, I think I will follow the "Rocky Workout", and run up those stairs a couple or twenty times so I won't have to buy an extra seat for the flight home.

Today I Was Cool For Almost Five Minutes

For exactly four minutes and fifty eight seconds this morning my son thought I was cool.

Today being cleaning day, I logged onto my Rhapsody account and cranked up my play list to make my cleaning a little more bearable. As I dusted to Michael Buble, sang along with Beyonce while vacuuming, and mopped the floor while dancing to Madonna, my son continuously made it known that he considered my taste in music "lame" and "old school".

Then it happened..... A classic ( albeit darkly disturbing) song - "Hell Is For Children" by Pat Benatar came on and he stopped and said "MOM! You Like This Song? This song's cool. The guitar is great in it"

... OH Pish Posh my boy... I've was jamming to Pat Benatar long before I became a middle-aged mother of three!

So for almost five minutes we shared a common bond as we listened to that song. He enjoying the talented guitar playing of Neil Giraldo, and me enjoying the fact that my son realized that I wasn't born a "mom" and I had a little shred of "coolness" in me. The spell was quickly broken when the next song came on and I was once again a relic with poor taste in music in his eyes, but it was good while it lasted.

One of these days I'm going to tell him about the time when I was eighteen and some girlfriends and I just happened to be staying in the same hotel and on the same floor as a couple of popular eighties bands...... on second thought he doesn't need to know about that. Some things are just better left unsaid.

Hi ... Remember Me???

No I haven't disappeared into a black hole.....well wait....It IS kind of like that.... I have disappeared into the black hole of work! Back in January I started working full-time and since I stink at time managment, my blog has been relegated to the proverbial "back burner" status. But I have so missed my little online diary and I'm going to make a point of trying to post at least more than once every two months! Really???? Has it been that long??? I'll be back.

It's Your Birthday!

Oh my poor neglected blog! This post is quite overdue but it seems I was having trouble logging into my blog and fixing my computer was low on the list of things my IT guy (hubs) had to do. It was behind finishing the tile in the kitchen, replacing axels on the car, and reassembling a guitar that is going through a face lift. So guess what? I fixed it myself!!! Yep it only took me three weeks to figure out I just had to use a different browser to get into my blog. This post was supposed to be up on February 4th.


Happy Birthday Ciara! Eighteen years old! It seems like yesterday you were that little girl who used to drag "Mr. Blankie" around everywhere and couldn't wait to help me in the kitchen. You still have the remnants of that beloved blanket, and occassionally you still join me in the kitchen but now your focus is on graduating and heading off to college. You have been a blessing to us, and I can't wait to watch your future unfold. We love you!




You have to appreciate how Trey tries to interfere with every picture we take by making goofy faces in the background. He can't outgrow that trait fast enough for us!



And, lest we forget my "labor of love" that was your cake that day, I'm including a photo because I may never put forth that much time and energy on a cake again!

Brains Beauty and Brawn

I can't say she gets any of those attributes from me. Ciara is the spitting image of her dad. Last week she was inducted into the National Honors Society. It was only after she started the application process did I realize how much is involved in getting into the NHS. Not only do you have to maintain a high grade point average but they require you to have had numerous leadership roles and volunteer positions as well as recommendations from teachers. We are very proud of her!



While beauty and brains can get you pretty far in life, her dad wants to be sure that she is the type of girl that any guy would want to take home to mother. Because really, being too smart can get you into trouble, and beauty is only skin deep, but a girl that can change her own brake pads?? Well she is definitely a keeper!

Superman

When I was a little girl I used to think my dad could do anything. When he would let me sit on his lap and "drive" the car I just knew he was the most fun dad in the world,when he would take me to the store with him and buy me a comic book and some candy I was sure that he was the best dad ever and when he would carry me up to my bed and tuck me in after I had fallen asleep on the couch, I knew that nothing bad would ever happen to me as long as he was around. Like every little girl I grew up and realized my dad was just an average guy with flaws like everybody else, but the little girl in me still treasures the times when he was invincible to me.

My dad had a huge heart. He would give the shirt off of his back to help someone in need. Each year at Christmas he would find out about a family in need and anonymously make sure that they had an extra special Christmas. Even this year, although he was in the hospital, he gave me the money to purchase toys, gift cards and groceries for a single mother who is trying hard to make ends meet. He believed in working hard and instilled a strong work ethic into his children at an early age. He loved his country and his family and would have laid down his life for both. To him his grandchildren could do no wrong and he was never happier than when his kids and grandchildren were all gathered together. Since we all live in different parts of the U.S, this didn't happen as much as my dad would have liked, but he always made sure to plan a special trip every two years so that we could all be together. He loved his family more than anything.

A few years ago after he suffered a stroke, and out of frustration from his limited mobility my dad told me how it saddened him that he used to be superman to his kids but now he was nothing. He couldn't have been farther from the truth. The fictitious superman may have been judged by his physical strength but the real superman that I saw in my dad was found in his strength of character and dedication to his family. Those attributes won't fade like the physical ones, they will be passed on to future generations.

I remember when I was younger I naively thought that losing a parent would be easier when I was older and had a family of my own. I guess I thought that I wouldn't feel the loss as much but I was wrong. No matter how old you are when your parent dies it is never easy. Yes it helps that I have a wonderful immediate and extended family as well as terrific friends that have helped during this time, but that little girl who could see no wrong in her invincible dad has a hard time saying goodbye.

I love you dad!