Tuesday, March 27, 2012

UPCYCLE

I want to find some wood crates. They don't have to be new. They can be as old as the hills. I know they are out there and I am seeking them out diligently.

For instance today I stopped by Bevmo to see if they had some just laying around the store. Do you know what they said? DO YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAID?

"We don't sell our wood crates, we destroy them." What? So let's just say I came in and bought a crate of wine. You would take the crate and destroy it and give me my wine in a bag. I got a blank stare. Seriously.

Really Bevmo, try to be a little more eco friendly. Upcycle those crates. I would even throw a couple bucks your way. This is America. Love the environment and let capitalism work.

This can only happen in Roderick world.

Monday, March 26, 2012

AMISH DAY

Today was an unplanned Amish day. The power went out last night during the storm and forced me into a quiet nostalgic morning. I cleaned cupboards, made several items I saw on Pinterest, grabbed a cup of coffee at Bagelmania, organized my purse, dressed in tons of layers and did general catch-up. Cool.

I advise all to experience Amish day occasionally.

Sunday, March 25, 2012

A PARTY

We had a holiday party at our house after Christmas. It had been a difficult season and we decided we needed a distraction. So . . . off to Costco we went and the supplies were purchased and ready.

The big day arrived and I busily prepared a delightful array of culinary tidbits. Wait. What did we do? What were we thinking? Why did we listen to the girls? The menu was, shall we say, Atkins friendly.

We served cheese fondue, cheese wrapped in prosciutto, cheese bites, mozzarella sticks, baked brie with blueberries, a lovely stiltton with cranberries followed by a sweet cheesecake.

We sent our guests home concerned about their future regularity and how their digestive systems would hold up against our dietary choices.

Yes. You can only experience this kind of dining at the Roderick's.

IT'S A 50'S THING: #32

Hope and I shall stuggle through this soggy night alone and dig beneath the quilts. As I blog, the rain is pelting the sky light, the thunder is echoing through the streets and the lightening is reflecting off houses. All is dry in the Roderick abode.

Except I don't know how to program the thermostat. That's Scott's job and he's many miles away in Atlanta. Can you hear me whine, fuss and complain?

Being 54, means learning to program home appliances.

Friday, March 23, 2012

PHOTOS




Shae's Sweet 16 in 2007.
















Shae and her boys at a University of Oregon footbal game 2011. Quack!















Hopie Jo 2011.
















Shae is ready for "Hell's Kitchen TV show 2006.















Kelsey moves to Seattle in 2007.

















Our sweet girls in 2010.






















Addison's graduation in 2007.
















Christmas morning 2011.










Some of our pics from the past. Oh how time flies when you're living fun with the Roderick's.







Thursday, March 22, 2012

IT'S A 50'S THING: #31

Scott and I went to the jeweler today to get our rings sized, cleaned and have some minors repairs done.

Our guy behind the counter told us, in no uncertain terms, that my engagement ring was not repairable. It was too delicate and risked destruction because the damage was so severe.

I explained to him that it had emotional value to me and he still shut me down. He kept telling us it was too old. Wait. I don't like that. It's only been thirty years. That doesn't seem old to me, at least, not for a ring. Who knew?

Our wedding bands were left behind for their upgrades. Saturday we will be lighter in the pocketbook when we pick those babies up but our fingers will once again be clothed.

Hmm. Maybe I can get Scott to cough up the cash for some other piece of bling for me.

Not likely.

THIRD GRADE

Seriously. Really. You are in 3rd grade. What are you thinking?

Several of our 3rd grade boys were hitting on our female college leaders tonight at Groups. One of the young Casanova's asked if he could trade leaders next week.

Now that is swag. And.it.is.not.gonna.happen.

Nice try though, nice try.

THE DREADED CALL


Scott got a text at 3:30am from Addison. She said she wasn't feeling well.

He didn't wake me because I would go to the bad place. Is her kidney stone thing acting up? Does she have the flu? She probably got some kind of horrible international bacteria from being on that plane for so long. Yikes. It's a good thing that he keeps some things to himself.

I texted her when I got up and she told me she was fine. She just had a headache. Really!

Addison does not get the time difference between Huntington Beach and Paris. Nor does she communicate the severity of her discomfort.

Roderick's are nothing if not dramatic.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

I DID THEM



These are Easter ideas I picked up from Pinterest. And I did them. So cute.
*ilovepinterest*


IT'S A 50'S THING: #30

Grrr. I am so angry with myself. I did it. No one to blame. It's all me. Yep.

I booked our flights to Utah 2 days ago. I was so thrilled to get a great price. I am the awesome flight shopper. I saved the family budget from a huge hit. I should be in the anals of savers unite.

I booked them for the first day of a new small group study that I am leading. Jetblue to SLC at 8:00 in the morning. The small group starts at 9:30am. Brain stall.

I changed the flights this afternoon. It cost me another $150.00.

I am old and broke.

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

IT'S A 50'S THING: #29

Hope, Scott and I had eye appointments yesterday. Hope has 20/20 vision and very young eyes. Scott and I, not so much.

Dr. Klos told me I have the beginnings of cataracts. What? Wait. I haven't even achieved senior citizen status yet. This can not be true. I am not old enough, right?

Not to worry, he says, they won't bother you for another 10 years. Really. Why is he telling me this now? I have 10 good years left on these eyes. Now I have to start worrying about my eyes 10 years out.

Scott . . . doesn't bother him in the least. He'll continue his merry life without thinking twice about the cataracts luming in his future.

I am getting old. Dislike.

Sunday, March 18, 2012

ADDISON GOES TO LA

Well it was bound to happen eventually. Addison is moving to a studio apartment in LA. Yep. She is completing school up there at FIDM and that's all she wrote. Well, not really.

She leaves for Paris, Rome, Florence and London on Tuesday for 12 days (school touring group) but when she returns she is LA bound. And not just LA, but smack dab in the middle of the fashion district in downtown, right next to the Staple Center (hope she hits alot of Lakers games, she could walk to them).

WOW! This is huge. She has a tiny little apartment, one room, across the hall from her friend who has the bathroom (can you say dorm like). She will only be up there 3 days a week with no car. She will take the train up on Sunday night and return on Wednesday morning. She is hoofing it while she's there with classes all day Monday and Tuesday. She's pretty stoked. Her mom and dad, not so much, but it is her adventure to live.

She will survive. She is Roderick.

KEYS

I just needed to run in and run out. No big deal.

I jumped out of the car and started walking casually tossing my keys into my purse. Wait. I overshot my bag and they slipped right through the grate . . . about 4 feet down. Wow. Good thing I was at Home Depot.

I ran into the building and headed straight for customer service. I could find help there for sure. No problem. It took a few minutes but a nice guy came to my rescue and I accompanied him to the parking lot so that we could gaze through grate at my now dirty keys. "Yea, I see them" he said to which I replied politely "so do I".

As he looked things over I could tell this situation was puzzling him. He headed back to the store for reinforcements and I stayed patiently with the keys. When he returned, with another employee, they had the personnel and the tools to complete the job. They removed the grate quite efficiently, but their arms were to short to actually retrieve my keys. Oh brother. This was taking longer than I thought it would.

We had become quite a spectacle in that lonely parking lot and we were attracting attention, alot of attention. I guess when men smell a job to be done they all come running to check it out. This is how they roll. Three men standing around an open hole, talking, thinking, strategizing, laughing, spitting, passing gas and I don't even want to think about what else.

I just wanted my keys back.

Finally, the two employees said they would be right back and took off for the store again. Really. They left behind an older, quiet gentleman who gently grabbed the tool that had removed the grate and started using it as a fishing pole. Genius.

Yes, the man who just happened along, retrieved my keys. The Home Depot guys were impressed when they returned, with more tools I might add, replaced the grate and sent me on my merry way.

It only happens to Roderick's.

THE BABY HAS GROWN UP




Sadie Hawkins 2012 at HBHS. My baby is no longer my baby. Tear. Sniffle. Weep. She's a beauty. Danny and Sandy from Grease were a good choice for Luis and Hope, don't you think? Rachel and Jose' were Taylor Swift and Taylor Lautner. Famous couples was the theme. They had so much fun.

Yep. She's blonde and she is Roderick.

Friday, March 16, 2012

BALLONS AGLOW

Question. What do you do with about 60 kids to keep them entertained during a lull?

Answer. Pinterest and I combined forces to achieve this fabulous result. Stick a glowing glow stick (wow, that's fun to say) inside a balloon and blow the balloon up for big fun.

I did about 25 balloons and randomly tossed them about the room. Then I turned out the lights and waited for the kids (build it and they will come).

At first, I just turned the kids loose but quickly discovered they needed some guidance. We then rounded them up and played several games including "keep the balloon in the air" and "over under" and "you can only use your feet to keep it in the air" and "you must stay on your tush and keep it in the air". Remember, these games are all done in the dark with glowing balloons (no kidding, they really do glow and they glow the color of the balloon .

Mission accomplished. Those kids loved it. Pinterest and I are awesome.

PINTEREST, A WASTE OF TIME

It isn't a waste of time if you actually do some of the items you pin.

I've done several of the crafts and activities on my Treehouse board.

I've knitted several of the patterns I've found and pinned on my Knitting Life board.

I know that my For (4) Weddings board is going to come in handy eventually.

My For Later board is going to be great when all those grandbabies start arriving.

I love my Cowboy Boots board just because I love them.

Actually, all my boards will be used someday one way or another.

I have even posted my own originals on Pinterest.

Guilty. Not me. Keep on pinning.


WHIPPED CREAM DOGS


We put whipped cream on our little dogs noses today. It was so fun watching them try to lick it off because they could see it but couldn't quite reach the prize.

They are Roderick's for sure.

MY FRIENDS HAVE MY BACK

Last weekend I was away at a women's retreat. Four of us went a day early to set everything in motion, make our little give aways and just take some time for ourselves. When we finally called it a night, at about 1:30am, we were all exhausted and ready for slumber.

I woke up at about 8:00am and needed to use the bathroom but the bed was so comfy and warm . . . I kept dozing. All of a sudden, how could I not sense this, I really had to go, immediately. I jumped up, not remembering my weak bladder and skipped to the facility crossing my legs intently. It didn't help. I dribbled a little in my jammies. Hey, don't judge me, I've had four vaginal births and they tend to wear a ones bladder.

I washed the pj's out in the sink and shared with my bff's that I had to sneak down to the laundry to dry said jammies. I explained to them what had happened and they, of course, were very supportive and laughed hysterically at my tragic mishap.

That evening, on my pillow, there was strategically placed large package of "Depends" undergarments.

See, my friends have my back.

GAS, REALLY?

I was so irritated. I had to go get gas because someone parked the car in the driveway and the tank was empty. Not a little empty, like running on fumes. Alot empty. If our driveway wasn't on a slant I wouldn't have made it to the station. Again. Irritated.

So I pull up, jump out, flip the gas switch, unscrew the cap, wave the fastpass, pull out the hose and slam it in the spot where the gas goes into the tank and start pumping. $70.00 later, in Shae's car mind you, I am back in the driver's seat, ready to roll. Not.

The stinkin' car won't start. I try several times, while the attendant watches, and it won't turn over. Can you feel my irritation?

I pull out my cell phone and call Scott. He doesn't answer. I try again. Still no answer. I call Jolene and he's getting a cup of coffee. Grrrr.

Finally, I get to talk to him. "What's wrong?" I explain the situation and tell him to listen as I put my phone up to the dash so he can hear the sound the car is making.

I turn the key and the stupie car roars to life and the attendant gives me a thumbs up. Scott says "Sounds alright to me." I hang up and drive away.

My life as a Roderick.


Wednesday, March 14, 2012

MAKING THE BED

I love a well made bed. The sheets tight and tucked away nicely. The comforter all fluffed and pretty. It's so cozy after a long day to just slide between that Egyptian cotton, that's 1000 thread count, and drift away.

I've been naughty as of late and have not been making our bed everyday. Life just steals time from me and yes, I do get lazy. But tomorrow is another day and I vow to do better.

A well made bed is a cloud of serenity. I love that.


Monday, March 12, 2012

CINDY'S MAP


I love Pinterest. I just stumbled upon a really cool idea and tried it. Yes, I tried it and I am sharing it with you.

Here's a map of all the states I've been in during my lifetime. I'm checking them off the bucket list. I think I may make it to all fifty. I think I'll start one for each of the girls. Scott is on his own. Here's the website: http://www.visitedstatesmap.com














SADIE HAWKINS

Oh. My. Goodness. Hell hath no fury like HoJoRo.

Sadie Hawkins is Friday night. Today we received a not so terrific progress report. Do the math people and see what conclusion you come too. Can you feel the fury?

She is restricted until we get a hand written (I know that's old school but hey, look at us) note from her teacher saying that she has brought the grade up to a respectable level. At that point, we can discuss the dance.

What we failed to calculate are all the preparations that accompany any dance at the Roderick house. The fabulous outfit (and with Sadie you have to match this year . . . Celebrity Couples is the theme), the perfect shade and style of the tresses, the makeup must be stellar and of course, how could I forget, the incomparable foot attire. It's madness I tell you, madness!

Now let's watch as Hope gets creative and brings that grade up and moves into action to make Sadie's happen for her and Luis (her date).

GoHoJoRo!

GET 'ER DONE

I married a genius. You don't beleive me. Read this and weep.

While I was on my getaway, allowance payment came a knocking. Hope receives her portion every two weeks (we coordinate this with our family budget).

Now here is the genius part. Hope has challeges keeping her room tidy, organized, clean . . . yeah, she's a bit of a slob.

So Scott hides different denominations of bills in her room. She finds it as she CLEANS. She changes her sheets . . . boom . . . five dollar bill tucked between them. She hangs up clothes . . . bam . . . she finds a ten under the pile. She takes out her trash . . . bling . . . several ones are under the can. She vacuums . . . well, I don't know where he hid that, but the point is her room was clean and she got the cash. Brilliant.

I love my genius.

Sunday, March 11, 2012

POLAR BEARS

My task for Scott's dad's funeral was the recruitment of the pall bearers. I made phone calls and had most of them in place but there were a couple I couldn't reach by phone and I had to catch them at the funeral.

Addison's job was to monitor and maintain the guest book. We both knew our jobs and were completing our tasks.

As the time grew closer for the service to begin, Addison sneaks over and asks if have I contacted all the polar bears. Wait. Polar bears. What does she mean? She reads the confusion on my face and says "you know, Mom, the guys to carry Grandpa's casket. I think you are losing it."

Pall bearers, honey. Pall bearers.

I am sure Grandpa got a little chuckle over that one.

ECZEMA

Shae's eczema is treatable. Very treatable. As a matter of fact, other than extreme flare-ups, she faces her condition with grace and groceries. Allow me to elaborate.

Following the "injection incident", Shae's doctor suggested several tools to treat the minor outbreaks.

1. Plain old, everyday oat baths. That's right. Raw Quaker Oats. Tie them up in a washcloth, through them in the tub and jump in for a nice warm, not hot, soak. Soothes the skin and calms the nerves.

Once the bath in complete just rub a little white, solid Crisco on your damp skin and voila . . . moisturizer. Then, gently "fry" off with a cotton towel. I know, I couldn't resist.

Next, wear only cotton clothes against the affected skin area. Cotton only. This could be a challenge since she lives up North, but she will survive.

Ain't modern medicine grand.

ROIDS

Meds. Orders. Reciept. Prescription. And we are out the door and heading for Target.

I remind Shae that she may get a little "giddy" because her steriod injection was a large dose due to her severe flare-up and she gives me the sideways glance that indicates "I know Mom. I'm not stupid". I leave it alone.

We complete the tasks at hand, she swallows her first prednisone and we head for a quick stop at Jack's to check on a Christmas gift.

Now being the amazing mother I am known to be, I shove Shae out of the car and tell her "Let's make this fast I don't want to get in traffic on the way back down to Carlsbad." This time I recieve the "eyeroll". I let this go because the doctor mentioned there may be some side effects from the steroid injection as well as the oral tablet, although she didn't mention sarcasm as one of them.

As I'm schmoozing with the Jack's staff (actually, it's all me . . . they are also rolling their eyes) I notice Shae is becoming more and more, shall we say active. She is literally running up and down aisles, talking faster than normal (that's really fast for a Roderick), and she's being a little mean to people and she's becoming agitated. Hmm. Time to roll. It seems the side effects are rearing their ugly heads.

"Time to go Shae". Not kidding here. She runs past me, out the front door and is yelling at me to hurry up. She may have said "old woman" but I can not be sure.

Okay.

As we hit the 55 Shae is, there is no other way to say this, all over the place, talking so fast that I can't even understand her. She is totally out of her stinking mind. She is like a rabbit at a shooting gallery. And in the heat of the moment, I simply say, in one of those teachable strands of time that only amazing moms can understand, "Shae, this is why steroid use is illegal for olympic athletes."

She stops mid-sentence. A cloud of contemplation wafts across her angelic face. A few seconds pass and she turns her head and stares intently at me. And then, the all important question . . . wait for it . . . "You mean I can never be an olympian?" I gaze at her with loving eyes. "Honey, what event were you planning to compete in?"

I can not make this stuff up. Seriously.

THE INJECTION

Shae came home for Christmas with a terrible flare-up of her eczema. It was the worst I had ever seen so I immediately made her an appointment with the family physician and we drove up from Carlsbad.

We arrived at the office, checked-in and sat down. Shae leans over and murmurs in my ear "I've got this Mom. You don't have to go in with me. After all, I am in college." I smiled and pulled out my knitting.

"Shae", a festively clad nurse calls out, and off my little girl goes all alone. Now a moment for myself to ponder days gone by when I took her into the pediatricians office screaming in fear of the dreaded "shot". I have graduated to "stellar" Mom status, one who raised an independent young woman who no longer fears injections. I wonder if they give awards for that kind of parenting?

My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by this little voice saying "Mom, I'm gonna need you after all." Hmm.

I get up and walk with Shae into the examination room. As she closes the door she blurts out "I'm getting a steroid shot . . . in my butt!" What is a mother to do but begin guffawing at her 20 year old daughter. Shae, of course, is not amused.

The nurse taps on the door and gracefully swings into action. "Drop your drawers sister" is what I heard but I am sure she was much more professional. Shae grabs my hand and leans over the table with her porcelin hiney exposed.

The stab. The pain. The scowl.

"That's it" the nurse kindly says and exits the room. Now the dance begins. Shae is jumping, bounding, grinding, moving. "It hurts, it hurts so bad." It sounds as if she is mimicking one of the top 10 tunes on the radio.

Then it happens. Words I have never heard escape any of our girls mouths.

"Slap it, slap it good." What? I am stunned. What do you mean? "Slap my butt, Mom, I am in pain here. It will take away the sting."

WOW! Instantly I am gasping for air. I am laughing so hard I can't form the word "no" and the more I laugh the more Shae says slap it. My abdominals have not seen this kind of work out in a very long time. Seriously. I can not breath. Tears are rolling down my cheeks. And then it happens.

The doctor walks in to survey the chaos.

Believe me. This only could happen to a Roderick.

SCOTT'S DAD

Wow. It has been a while since I've blogged and I think it's time to get back in the saddle. Let me see if I can catch you up on what's been happening.

Scott's dad passed away on December 20, 2011 and we all miss him but are comforted in the fact that he slipped away peacefully with absolutely no pain. We were all together and believe that he was aware of all the action around him.

Hope sliding down the stairs. Kelsey and Shae putting puzzles together on the kitchen table. Scott running in and out of the garage. Mom chatting with hospice care givers. Addison doing dishes and me on the computer. Laughing and crying. Cooking and eating. Friends coming and going. He knew we were all there. He knew.