30 Years Young

I tried to google a clever quote on turning 30, but they were all depressing. So, I'll settle for quoting myself. Birthdays are awesome, no matter what the number. It means you've been lucky enough to have another year with your family, friends, and kittens. It means you get your favorite supper, cake, presents, kisses, hugs, and well wishes from all kinds of folks. Who doesn't like birthdays? Crazy people, that's who! I'm here to tell you, this has been the perfect birthday!

Doug got up with the boys this morning so I could sleep in AND take a shower---luxurious! 

Came downstairs and fried the boys some goetta--their favorite, and listened to them giggle and holler while they munched.

Around noon, I headed out to run around with Miss Jovita and grab a bite to eat. We had my favorites: Skyline and Graeter's. You know, if I can't have soup beans, fried taters, and corn bread from Dwarf, I'll settle for a 4-way with onions and a chocolate milkshake any day. Thank you, Cincinnati, for having delicious food.

When I got home, the boys were ready for a nap! I love naps because they always begin with and end with me getting to rock and snuggle my dudes. 

That's all 3 of us piled in that recliner.

We ended the night with some light reading (only about 15-20 books) and more kisses and hugs. 30 ain't so bad!

Our Day (in Pictures)

When Doug gets home from work on Tuesdays and Thursdays, the first thing he asks is, "What did you guys do today?" So, today, I thought I'd capture our day in photos for him so he knows what we're up to while he's at work.

Goetta for breakfast!

Dinosaur Train while I cleaned up the kitchen.

The Bear took Jules for a spin.

"Hey, Brother. Let's play cars!"

Playing cars on the window sill...their new favorite spot!

Playing cars on the slide. 

Time for a snack! Mmm grapes!

Reading some books.

Jammin.

Helping me run the sweeper.

Annihilating some bacon.

Annihilating some of Grammy's Cincinnati Chili.

Finally dressed for the day and SLIDING!

Reading some more books.

Uncle Dacian's home!

Nap time!

Wranglin' a gator!

The Birds

For Thanksgiving, the boys, Doug, and I headed on down to Dwarf. It's always such a fun time being home and hanging with my family. We have a good time visiting with each other, telling stories, and eating lots of food. And laughing. We love to laugh.

This past weekend was no exception.

We were sitting in the living room watching Alfred Hitchcock's The Birds while the rest of America was watching football. The room was full of about 6 or 7 family members.

It was at that part in the movie where the birds were starting to come into Lydia's house via pecking through the windows.

My Uncle pipes up, "Boys, he just stuck his pecker through that window!"

Well, you can imagine how we all roared with laughter over that one.

We recovered, the movie played on, and directly, the birds moved from coming through the window to coming through the doors!

What follows almost put us all in stitches. 

Mommaw says, "Boys, they've got some hard peckers!"

Hot Wheels

Look closely at the left hand of Jonas Abraham for it holds something incredibly valuable: the only Hot Wheels car in our house. That's right, friends. Today has been nothing but one giant brother fight all because of that little teal minivan.

Dear Santa,

Screw peace on earth. I want peace at 125. Bring us some dadgum Hot Wheels!

Your friend,
Alli G

Old People and Shopping

I googled an image for "people of wal-mart." They were all too
repulsive. I decided to go with these good-looking dudes instead.

Now, you all know that I love old people. They always have a good story to tell; they're old so they've stop caring what anyone thinks of them; and they're sweet. What's not to love?

I went to Wal-Mart the other morning on my way to drop off some goodies to the Children's Home*. Yes, I know what you are thinking. "Wal-Mart?! But Allison HATES Wal-Mart!" I do hate it, but it is en route and the thing I hate most about Wal-Mart, the people of Wal-Mart, was not a problem...because it was 10 o'clock in the morning (do I sound like a Republican?).

Anyway, there I was cruising down the aisle, when this little old dude stopped me. He was standing in front

Duncan Hines was a Ky boy.

of the cheese section looking puzzled and in need of help. "Excuse me, ma'am." he said. "Yessir. What can I do for you?" He looked at his grocery list and then back at me and asked, "Have you ever heard of cheese tortellini?" Aww! I explained to him what it was and where he could find it. There was a Wal-Mart associate nearby who overheard and said he'd take the little guy to find his pasta. Later when I was heading for the checkout line, I passed him. He waved and said, "We found it! Thank you!" 

I hopped in line behind an old woman. This lady was decked out! I mean, I realize a pair of jeans is decked out for Wal-Mart, but this woman was truly stylin' and profilin'. She reminded me of Lucille Bluth. She had on a dress, a fur jacket, her sunglasses, and a giant Coach handbag. While she was checking out, I overheard her telling the cashier that she was going to be baking this afternoon. "Honey, it's the best thing you've ever tasted. Get ya a box of Ducan Hines Spice Cake, a can of apple pie filling, and 3 eggs. Mix it up, bake it, and there you go! Delicious dessert." Well, that sounded mighty fine to me, so when I was at Target hours later, I got me a box of Spice Cake and a can of apple pie filling and I whipped up that cake. Wouldn't you know, it was a hit! I added some cream cheese frosting to it, and folks lapped it up!

Tony Delk and Darius Miller. I love everything
about this picture.

Today I went to a Kentucky shop. I don't know what the name of it is. It's just a little store that sells UK apparel. I was on a mission to find Carol a birthday present: I wanted to get her a UK scarf. Alas, they did not have one. 

I walked into the store and the sales associate was a little old dude. He hollered, "I'll give you anything in the store 20% off, and anything on this shelf, 40% off. I looked around hoping I'd find Carol something, but nothing was screaming Carol.

I gave up on finding Carol's gift, and went to look to see if they had anything cool for the boys. They did, of course. I picked up two little UK jerseys: #00 and #1. I went to check out. "Twins?" the little old dude asked. "Yep! Too bad there's not a #2 and a #5." I replied. "Yeah, that would've been neat. But these ain't bad numbers. Double-zero was..." I finished his sentence, "Tony Delk." "Right, and #1 was..." "Darius Miller." I said. "You sure know your Kentucky basketball, girl." We then went on discussing how James Young shot the lights out on Tuesday night and how this team has been fun to watch thus far. I think I ought to go up and hang out with the old feller every now and again.

*We've been donating to the Children's Home for a whole year now! Woohoo!

Back at Rupp

Rupp's rafters. 

Oh, boy! How wonderful it was to get back to Rupp today! I have missed that hallowed arena. The wait from March to November is so incredibly long. But finally, college basketball is here.

I swear. Kentucky basketball really is a religion. I want you to know that reel of Kentucky greats they show right before game time, it gets me choked up every dang time. Why am I so fanatical? I just can't help it. It's in my blood, as they say. Why, my Mom has been stressing about Tom Izzo and his Spartans for weeks.

An actual phone conversation between my Mother and me:
Me: Hi, Mom. What's going on in Dwarf?
Mom: Oh nothing. I just wish November 12th would hurry up and get here. I'm worried.
Me: What happens November 12th? Dad go to the doctor?
Mom: (talking to me like I'm an idiot) That's when we (didn't you know, my Mom plays for the Cats) play Michigan State! It's our first true test! They're a veteran team. I don't know if we can handle them. Your Dad thinks we'll lose.
Me: You are mental. And Dad always thinks we'll lose.

The most surprising thing about that conversation, as my friend John pointed out, is that I didn't immediately
know what she was talking about. It's come to this, people. I am as blue to the bone as my crazy Mother. Well, maybe not that blue just yet. Years down the road, one of my children will call me and ask, "What's going on, Mom?" And I'll tell them about how I've just changed into my lucky UK t-shirt, have my UK earrings in, my fingernails painted blue, have my fingers crossed, my head's pounding, and I have gone to the other room away from their negative Nancy father to watch the game in peace. (Yes, these really are the things my Mama does on game days. I come by it naturally.)

Oh, my boys. They are in for a real treat. I do look forward to sharing the experience with them. Sitting next

to us tonight were two dads, both with their daughters. The girls were decked out in their UK gear and were being very enthusiastic cheerleaders. Doug had the pleasure of sitting directly next to one of them. I think her pom-poms nearly took off his head a couple of times. "I should've worn my safety goggles!" he groaned. When she wasn't cheering, she was wondering whether or not dogs played basketball. I see an Air Bud movie marathon in her future.

I had a great time cheering on the Cats as they thumped on our brethren to the north, Northern Kentucky University. Here's to hoping the boys in blue play some awesome basketball on Tuesday night when they play Michigan State. It's for the health of my Mother and me.

My Possum and Me

Wherever I go, he goes!

Therapeutic Jam Session

Snuggling these dudes is also a good stress reliever. 

So, work has been a little stressful the past couple of weeks. I have a lot of it, but not a lot of time. Yes, I realize everyone else in the world has this same problem. Whatever, give me some sympathy, people.

Anyway, I was feeling like a total failure today because I had to tell my boss that I needed help. "I am struggling," I whined. "Two giant reports both due next week and 1 protocol due ASAP." I was on the verge of a melt down.

My boss gave me a little pep talk, as she often does because she is just that sweet, and I turned to my friends who were there to help me write! Thank goodness for those girls!

I felt like a turd for dragging them down. But what can you do? Sometimes, you just need help.

Finally the workday was over, and I hopped in the car to head home. To my great surprise (although, it shouldn't have been a surprise because I had been listening to the CD on the morning commute; I guess when you only listen to an actual CD once a year, it's always surprising), Nirvana was blasting from my radio. Ah, yes, definitely turned the volume up for some angry grunge music. Yes, Kurt, I do feel stupid and contagious.

Now I know Nirvana is heralded as one of the greatest rock bands of all time, but I just don't really dig them that much. Don't beat me up dudes, but once you've heard one Nirvana song, haven't you heard them all? Am I going to burn in rock-n-roll hell for writing this? Will I be stuck in the eternal flames of damnation alongside the likes of Brian who SAT DOWN FOR THE ENTIRE BOB DYLAN show. Will I forever have to hear Doug ask, "Is this Aerosmith?" when it is clearly THE ROLLING STONES. Christ! What a punishment.

Anyway, moving onto my point (I had one I think): music is such good therapy. I don't know jack about notes or how to play an instrument and I sure as heck can't sing, but boy, play me a little Johnny Cash or some Heart and my mood is on the mend. Johnny's low humming and Nancy Wilson's killer guitar riffs take me to a happier place.

Perhaps the song that cheered me up the most this evening on my way home was "2 of Amerikaz Most Wanted" by Tupac featuring Snoop Doggy Dogg. Yes, that's right. As I was cruising down the interstate in my Subaru Outback, I was bumping to some gangsta rap and singing along. Loudly. Fellow drivers probably thought I was having some sort of seizure in my car.

What makes me laugh even more than me rapping is the debate I had (with myself) about who I would be in this duet. "I think I'd be Snoop Dogg. I'm more laid back. And Kristen would definitely be my 2Pac. She is scrappy after all." Tupac was probably rolling in his grave.

Picture us rollin.

Just for kicks and giggles, the song that followed was The Godfather of Shock Rock's (Alice Cooper, I'm going to pretend that I didn't have to tell you that) classic Feed My Frankenstein. One could say I have an eclectic taste in music.

The Voice

This morning I drove Doug's car to work (because my car was on empty and he was going to fill it up--isn't he sweet?).

I leave the house pretty early, so it is dark outside. I am a weenie, we all know that. I always have this fear that some creature is going to jump out of the darkness and grab me. I tend to move with the quickness getting into the car. This morning as I approached the garage, I heard a man talking. What? Is? That? I looked around to see if I could spot any dudes lurking around...nothing. As I got closer to the garage, the voice grew louder.

"Bruce Pearl should sue! I like Bruce Pearl, but even if I didn't, I'd still say he should sue the NCAA. They're liars. They've lied so much that their rules are obsolete!"

The voice belonged to Mike Greenberg. Stepping into the empty garage filled with Greeny's voice, the atmosphere was totally creepy. It was like a scene from a scary movie. You know the types...the zombie apocalypse has come, and a group of dudes go into an abandoned home to see if there are any signs of life. Everything is desolate. All you hear is some creepy old record playing on repeat.

There I was. Alone. In the dark. Listening to Greeny repeatedly scream about Bruce Pearl. Frightening.

To make matters worse, it was raining outside. You know what I think of when it is dark, rainy, and I am scared? Dadblamed Unsolved Mysteries. I tell you, I can vividly see that episode now, with that creeper who looked like the Undertaker, standing in the rain, just waiting for that perfect moment to bust into some innocent broad's house to slit her throat. I can hear Robert Stack clear as a bell, "Join me. Perhaps you will be able to help solve a mystery." Uh, no thanks, Mr. Stack. I'm cool. I ain't about to go looking for the Undertaker.

Ugh. Doug needs to put up some flood lights or something. Maybe someday I'll be brave.

Best Friends

As you know, every time a social event is to be held at my house, I decide that the week before said event is an excellent time to undergo a new project around the house. This week I have been purging (again...how do I acquire so much junk) and organizing (dumping different things into different totes). During this process, I happened upon two very sweet pieces of paper. Mine and Doogie's wedding vows! We chose to write our own. I think it is fitting that we both (although one of us got a little help from Freddie Mercury) wrote about being each other's best friend. I love that dude. And Queen.

I kinda sound like Elmyra Duff. "I'm gonna hug you and kiss you and love you for ever!"

I love the title of his vows: New Text Document (4).

Reality TV

Maridith and Jonas at last year's Halloween party.

Every Tuesday night, my friend Maridith comes over for supper. She's been coming over on Tuesdays ever since I was pregnant with the boys. It started as a favor for me: she'd come over and cook me dinner, as I laid lifeless on the couch like the beached whale that I was. I'm so happy that we've kept our Tuesday nights going strong for over a year. I look forward to them every week!

Usually, Maridith arrives at the house right around the time Word Girl comes on, which is also right around the time Dacian gets home. They entertain the boys while I cook. Additionally, they use this time to catch up with each other regarding the television shows they both watch. "What did you think of this week's Person of Interest? When does season 3 of Sherlock come on?" Etc. Etc.

Last Tuesday, I was eavesdropping on their conversation and her Dacian giving Maridith a hard time about watching reality shows. "At least I watch quality reality shows!" Maridith exclaimed. "I watch Genealogy Roadshow not the Jersey Shore!" To which Dacian replied, "What? The Jersey Shore isn't a reality show." "Yes, it is, Dacian." "You mean to tell me Snookie is a real person? No way!"

Down in My Back

Being a Mother is such a beautiful thing, but, man does it exhaust a woman. Those little firecrackers of mine wear me out--physically and mentally. I am currently laying in bed with a heating pad. My poor ole back hasn't been the same since I had to haul those two around for nine months. (When they are older, this will be great material for a nice guilt trip.) Of course, running around on all fours, chasing after them and roaring doesn't help my back either. Oh well, we have fun, even if I do pay for it later.

Here is a question for all of you parents out there (or non-parents for that matter): Am I the only one who plays out horrific scenarios in my mind when I hear or do not hear a noise from another room when I am the only person (adult) in the house?

Examples: When I am home with my boys and they begin to play cars or read books or watch Daniel Tiger or otherwise amuse themselves, I sneak off to the kitchen to clean. I will be in there loading the dishwasher when all of a sudden...

I hear a shriek. Now, in the 5 seconds it takes me to open the baby gate and get to the living room to the children, in my mind, Julian/Jonas are screaming in pain, lying on the floor with a broken arm, and I am going to have to somehow pull myself together to take the injured to the hospital. "What will I do if there's blood? What if I pass out and they are hurt and all alone? I'm going to throw up!!!!!!!!"

Finally, I reach the living room. Julian was the shrieker.  The issue: His brother had a big plastic spoon and he didn't. The horror! The horror!

OR

I hear nothing. "It is awfully quiet in there. I better go check on them!" And in the 5 seconds it takes me to get to them, I've already envisioned some bastard breaking into my home and trying to steal my babies. Whereupon, I reach for the closest weapon available, which just so happens to be one of Doug's enormous flashlights. And then I beat the tar out of that dude and rescue my children. Mama Bear will destroy you, punk!

Finally, I reach the living room. Julian is laying on the couch watching Curious George, and The Bear is reading.