My Life in Girl Scout Cookie Hell!

This will be a majorly long post.  There's your warning!

But I'll make it easy on you.  The photos tell the whole story, more or less.  My words are a lot of blah blah blah.  In fact, I got bored just writing it.

Geez, wasn't last Friday's post a total downer!  I apologized on Facebook for upsetting you all.  Who knew you'd get so mad?  Seriously, you people need to learn how to chill out.  Just joking!  Thank you all for your outpouring of love.  I didn't reply to any of your comments on the post.  I knew that there would be a lot and I didn't feel like reliving it 100 times over.  But thank you!  You don't hate me, do you?

Okay, let's talk Cookies!  I know, I'm excited too!

But first, let me take you back.....

At the beginning of February, Claire's troop made paper Valentine Day hearts.

Girls love this sh*t!  My boys would have totally stabbed each other with the scissors.

Then two weeks after that, the troop meeting was held at the nursing home where both my Gran and my Sister passed away.  That wasn't my plan.  The father of one of the other girls in Claire's troop, works there.

The girls had songs that they sang in various locations throughout the building.  Our troop leader is pretty smart and she chose songs that would appeal to folks who are up there in age.  You know, hits from Def Leppard.  The people enjoyed the girls very much.

See!

After their songs, the girls handed out the Valentine's Day Cards that they created at the last meeting.  

And when it was all said and done, they finished up with Circle Time and their ending song.

"Make new Friends, but keep the old...."

All along, I had thought that once we started selling cookies, I could ask folks to see if anyone wanted to donate to the troops overseas.  Then, I heard from the District Cookie Tyrant (The Cookie Monster) that I'd have to ship them myself.  So, I thought that perhaps folks would like to donate to the Residents of the nursing home.  And I went with that plan.  I would come to find out later that I could have donated to the Military through another way but it was too late to change my plans.  I mean, I could have but I already told people what my intentions were so there it was.

And then the cookies arrived.

Volunteers loading my mini-van.  I know, that boy needs a belt.

About 5 days before the cookies arrived, I got an email from the the Cookie Monster letting me know what time slots were available to pick up the cookies from her house.  I saw it but didn't respond right away.  I get so many from her that I grew tired of reading them.  Anyway, 2 hours later, she calls me asking if I got her email.  I told her yes but I didn't read it yet.  She then asked me when I was coming over.  I told her "around 6".  She said that I needed to chose a 15 minute time slot to pick up the cookies.  If I came earlier, I'd have to wait until my window opened and if I came later, I'd have to wait until all the other Cookie People came for theirs.

So I said, "okay, I'l be there at the 6:15 slot".  She said, "Don't be late".  I arrived there with 3 minutes to spare.  Everything was dark and I started to panic thinking that I missed my window of opportunity and what kind of emails would I get from her saying that I forfeited my sales by not being on time.  My heart didn't stop pounding until she opened the garage door and there were all my cookies ready to go.  There were teenage boys there helping to load the vehicles.  I have seats that sto-away which made it possible to fit 172 cases into my car.  Once I sat in the car to start to drive, the boys placed a few more boxes on my lap.  The Cookie Monster told me that if I didn't take everything that night, I couldn't come back for a few more days.  Needless to say, I made those f*%kers fit!

My garage.  Lousy photo.  I am aware.

At home, the kids helped me unload the van while Fred made all those lovely organized stacks above.  My Family made me so happy with their teamwork.  I really wanted to photograph them working but then Fred would get pissed that I was only taking photos for my blog.  He has a lot of nerve!  That was Thursday night.  I actually scheduled off of work on Friday just to be home when the Troop Moms(and two Dads) showed up to get their stash.  Last year's Cookie Mom, Kay, came over that morning to help me.  I owe her my life.  After she got me organized, she took off.  I spent the day opening and closing the garage as more parents showed up.  I was beat.

But the next morning, I had to load the remaining boxes into the van again and head on down the road to do a booth sale.

Some of the girls and Miss Kay, my Savior

Claire and I spent three hours there and then I told Claire that we had to get home so I could rest.  She got a little pissy with me but I just needed a break.  We went home and slept for about a hour.  Got up and went back to the booth which was going strong.

The girls had a great time selling boxes, counting money and recording it all.

They sang songs to get people's attention.  They really were in their element.

Claire and her Friend, Paige, our neighbor.

At four, we closed up shop and I loaded the remaining boxes back into my van and we drove home.  I'm not quite sure what happened after that.  It's all a blur.  But then on Sunday, we had to start figuring out who bought from us.  So whenever I need complete order, I have Claire do it!

Folks, I did not stage these two photos.  Although she is messier than my three boys put together, she is the Master of Details.  Seriously, she scares me.  And she gets so upset if things don't go the way she planned.  I sit back with the attitude, "We'll get it done eventually".  And she says things like "no, it needs to get done now"!  And I'm like "Okay, relax, Freak"!  Of course I say that under my breath so I don't get in trouble.

This happened the Sunday after the booth sale.  It was also the day that I realized that I didn't shower since Thursday and was wearing the same clothes since then too.  When my kids were babies, that was normal for me.  I thought I outgrew it.  Guess not!

Fast forward a week or so.  I've lost track of time.

With a little help from my "Friends", I had 50 or so boxes of Girl Scout Cookies to deliver to the nursing home.  Right now, I'd like to thank the following people.

Shirlee, my co-worker
Stephanie, our former Adoption Caseworker
Tracy of Sellabit Mom (Happy Birthday Esther!)
Mark, my Friend of 25 years
And Scott L, a former co-worker, who dropped a nice chunk of change off to me.

Hopefully I didn't miss anyone.  If I did, let me know.  I'm sorry for forgetting and I'll add you right away.

I took the kids plus two of their Friends with me to deliver cookies.  Once you hit four kids, two more is nothing.

Aren't they cute?  Of course they are.  I don't even know why I ask!

Blurry but I love it!

My little Big Man

Some Residents thought they we were selling the cookies so we had to remind them that they were donated and that we were handing them out for free.  Then some asked for two boxes.  I said "No".  I don't play that! Still, they were happy.  But 5 minutes later, they were probably thinking, "Why the hell am I holding Girl Scout Cookies"!

After one floor, we headed off to my Sister's floor.  Can you see Johnny walking by himself?

He couldn't go up there and broke down.

He's the only one, of my children, who actually remembers my Sister when she could talk and hold him.  My most physically strong and strong-willed child is my most sensitive.  Joshua didn't want to go up either.  So they hung out, together, while we went upstairs.

Because we've spent years in the nursing home, the kids aren't freaked out by the Residents there.  I'm glad for that.  Because sometimes, I get a little depressed going in their myself.

But, we finished handing out all the cookies and even left a few boxes to the fine folks who took care of my Sister for us.

"Hi guys"!

So that's it!  Such is the life of a Cookie Mom/Dad.

Me and some of my girls.

If you see any major typos, I'm sorry.  I writing this while kids are jumping down the basement steps onto sofa cushions.  I probably should care.

Your Friend, m.

Denied

I was wanting to write about Girl Scout Cookies today but that will have to wait until Monday.  However, since you've all been asking, I felt it was time for you to know.  If you don't mind though, I'd rather not talk about the details just yet.  So if you have any in-depth questions, I probably won't answer them today.  Just know  that our attorney has started the Appeals process.  And now it really begins.

Please come back for updates on us or visit Stopthedeportations.com for stories about many other Families like ours.  Well, not as cute, obviously, but in the same situation.

Thank you for contacting Senator Bob Casey and Secretary of Homeland Security, Janet Napolitano, on our behalf.

Have a good weekend.
Your Friend, m.
p.s.  Fred has finally stopped watching Glee.  See, it's not all bad news today.

Happy Birthday, Bitch!

Maggie!  Not Fred! 

Yep, today is the demon dog's birthday.  She's six years old!  And I couldn't care less.  But on Monday, Fred emailed this to my Calendar.

Title:	ANNIVERSAIRE MAGGIE
When:	Wed Feb 22, 2012 (EST)
Where:	Blessed Art Thou Amongst B*tches
Who:	Fred
	more details »
	Going? Yes - Maybe - No

Hiding from my camera. 

And then Fred told me to blog about it.  And I asked, "Seriously?"  He said that I had to.  And so I said "Fred, if I do, I'm going to get all kinds of comments from DogBloggers.  Those people are nuts!  They write as if their animals are talking.  I'll see comments like "Woof, Woof!" and "You can bark up my tree anytime, baby!"  And he just stood there staring at me like that's a "normal" thing to do.  Just then, I remembered that Fred is a DogPerson and if he were to have a personal blog, he would be King of the DoggieBloggers.

So I said okay and I set out to take some snapshots of Maggie to post.  We couldn't find a party hat so I tried sticking a bow on her head to make her look more festive.  She didn't like that one bit and kept knocking it off.  So Claire volunteered to show that it wouldn't hurt her.

After a few shots, I was able to get something.

That's her happy face.   Or sad one.  Who cares!

But then she ran off and Fred tried coxing her back with some cheese.

She wasn't going for it.  So, Claire stepped in again to show her how it's done.

Sit!  Good girl! 

After about two minutes, because that's all the patience that I have with dogs at 7:30 at night, Fred gathered the children over for a "sort of" Family photo.  Sadly, this one was the best out of the batch.

It is what it is.

For better or for worse, that's what every evening looks looks like at our place.  I just watch the clock waiting for it to be  8 o'clock!  And I think Maggie was ready to call it a day too.

Happy Birthday, you Nutball!

There's your blog post Fred.  Happy?

Your Friend, m.

"I heard he sang a good song"

"I heard he had a style"

"And so I came to see him to listen for a while"

As mentioned in my last post, over a week ago, I went to a local bar to hear my Friend, Anthony, perform.  Going out, on my own, is not as easy as it sounds.  Let me try to explain to you what it takes for me to accomplish this task.  Remember, in Cinderella, where her step-mother gave her impossible tasks to complete before she was allowed to attend the Ball?  That's what it boils down to here.  Forever, I had wanted to see Anthony play.  But I am not the boss of my own schedule.  Because I chose this life of parenthood, with all that is great and wonderful about it, comes times when you are wanting to do something else, but can't.  So when I heard that Anthony(Fern) was playing, I first asked the boss(Fred) if I could go.  He said "yes".  It wasn't a "YES, that would be GREAT", it was a "yes".  I take what I can get.

"You wanna go where everybody knows your name"

So for over a week, with the help of some very animated mice, I altered my evil step-sisters dresses.  Actually, I did nothing, besides the obvious, until the Sunday, the day when he played.  He was to start at 6:30.  And because I wasn't going to be home to help put the kids to bed, I had to make sure that I did as much as possible before I left.  That meant, I made sure all four kids had their baths, brushed their teeth, did laundry, the dishes, walked the dogs, etc....  Basically, I did everything that I would do prior to 8PM when the kids go down.  But, I did it all before 6:30PM.

"Ticklin' the Ivories"!

I told Fred that I would be back by 8PM.  So at 6:30, I threw on the only shirt that didn't need ironed and I drove downtown.  I found a spot, up close, and went on in.  The restaurant was busy with people eating and folks at the bar.  Because I recognized some people at the bar from days gone by...., I knew that they were there to see Anthony.  The people dining must have been folks coming into town and/or staying at local hotels who walked over.

I'll have some of that!

Confessions of a former Social Butterfly:   There was a time, when being in a crowd and standing out, was my thing.  Now, I prefer to stand out only in cyber-space.  I immediately spotted Anthony and went to him.  I took a few photos and then scanned the room.  I saw some old acquaintances and went to them.  "Hi Ron and Nathan"!  And they introduced me to Paul and another Ron.  So there I was, squished between the four of them. But not like in the old days!  I actually "talked" to these guys.  And that's when I mentioned to you that I thought that I bored them to death with my talk of children.

"Sing us a song, you're the Piano Man"

Here's the deal.  Happily, I got nothing going in my life besides Fred and the kids.  Fred and I are going on 22 years and we've been doing this parenting thing for almost 12 years now.  I'm so used to Our Simple Lives that, left on my own and out of my element, I'm like a fish out of water.  So, what do people without kids talk about?  I have no freakin' idea!  Should I talk about politics?  I suppose.  But did this crowd, who came to support Fern, really want to hear about which Republican candidate I'm supporting?  I don't think so.  I'm sure you don't either, right?  wink!  (Sardine Mama taught me to add a "wink" so as not to totally piss people off with my comments).

"Tipping is not a city in China"

But everyone was super nice to me and treated me like a real person.  I even got a few "once-overs" which took me a few seconds to remember that I should take it as a compliment and not as a sign that I look tired and worn out.  And I was like "Thank God for Chubby-Chasers"!

"Killing me softly with his song"

But although, the days of thinking that everyone in the club is there for me, are gone, I had no problem flitting around the room to take photos of Anthony and bits and pieces of everything.  I bought my 1st camera a couple of months before I started this blog.  I used to be nervous photographing certain situations.  Now, I photograph what I want and will continue to do so until someone says not to.  I'm not rude about but, if I want this diary(blog) to work,  it's very important to me that I capture "moments" in time.

"Shake Shake Shake"!

Anthony is an excellent performer and is meant to be in front of a crowd.  He's not as masculine as Liberace... but, the women love him too! 

Don't know this chick but she sang well.

People were invited to come up to sing while he played.  And luckily, only those who actually could sing, did, while I was there.  When they don't come up, Antony sings.  And of course, adds his own story and narrative to every song.  Which is tons of fun!

I had a great time but my yearly personal hour was coming to a close.  If I didn't make it home in time, my Dodge Minivan would turn back into a pumpkin.  But beyond that, my glass slippers were killing me!  Plus, I did tell Fred that I would be back by 8PM.  For all those who are probably getting the impression that Fred rules me, let me set you straight.  What I joke about as being "controlling", is actually mutual respect for one another.  Does Fred mind that I went to a bar by myself?  Probably.  Does he trust me?  Yes.  Would I abuse that trust?  No.  You see, I have a good thing going here.  Why screw that up?

I don't mean to tempt you, Julie.  I just like the photo.

So I bid my Friends "farewell" and was on my way back home.  I was back by five of Eight and in time to kiss all of my babies goodnight.  They watched a movie while I was gone and, as far as they knew, I was down here, in the basement, blogging.  Fred asked me what I felt like watching.  Which is his way of saying that he wasn't mad at me for going out.  I was home, and happy.

Although I'm not sure about Anthony!

And though I joked about boring my Friends at the bar with rambling non-stop about my kids, Ron and Nathan emailed me on Saturday inviting us(Fred and me) to dinner next month.  So, I guess I wasn't that boring after all.  Go figure!

I met Anthony exactly one week after I met Fred in April of 1990.  And even though we get on each other's nerves and bad mouth one another, we are the best of Friends.  So I'm very happy to be publishing this post on his birthday.

Happy Birthday "Old" Friend.

Thanks for taking pity on me and inviting me out.

Fern's Friend, m.

"It's Electric"!

 "Boogie woogie, woogie"!

Last week, I presented to you an imaginary conversation that happened with my parents.  In reality, they don't talk Ghetto at all.  Truth be told, they lean more towards trailer talk if you get my drift.  Not that there's anything wrong with living in a trailer, I'm just sayin'!

Anyway, I told you to imagine them sitting on their sofa with the sofa arm flipped down for their cokes.  I added, at the end, that I was only joking.  Really, I thought I was.  My Mom commented or called me that day to tell me that her sofa really does have that feature.  So when I went down this past weekend, I brought my camera, of course!  Well, not only does that middle cushion flip down, but you also can push buttons that make the entire sofa vibrate.  Listen, I'm laughing so hard right now.  And I was in hysterics at my Mom's.  It was just too much to handle.  I had no idea that my parents actually plugged their sofa into a wall.

By the way, she's selling it if anyone want to buy it.  Lord knows what the next sofa will do.  Any guesses?

So anyway, after I composed myself, I hung out a little bit with her and my Aunt Pam B. in the kitchen.  And look what my Mom offered me.

Home made Peanut Butter Eggs.

Actually, these were made by the local church.  Those damn Methodists have been making my hometown fat since 1842!  And it doesn't look like there about to stop anytime soon.  These bad-boy P.B. Egss are larger than ever.  I think they biggie-sized them just to sabotage my diet .  It's probably payback for skateboarding in their parking lot in the early 80s.  I remember that organist giving me the evil-eye from the church window.  It's her doing!  I just know it!

Anyway, I resisted.  Believe me, it took everything I had in me not to scarf them all down.  And when my Mom knew that I wasn't going to cave in on the chocolates, she brought out the big guns.

It's not jalapeno but I'm not complaining!

On a different subject but also concerning my Mom, she said that my posts are becoming dirty.  She said that I'm starting to sound like I'm writing soft porn.  Which is sort of offensive because although I don't read soft porn, I bet it's not funny and never mentions Peanut Butter eggs.  Although there could be chapters dedicated to vibrating sofas and cheese-whiz.    I don't know!  So maybe my Mom is right!

Anyway, she has a lot of nerve calling me pornographic.  Seriously, she was no Methodist church organist when I was growing up!  I think her memory's failing her these days.  Bless her heart.(Hey Lauren)!  Maybe she thinks of herself as a former Nun.  Maybe she was!  Although how many Nuns have you seen walking around town in a mini-skirt and high-heeled converse all-stars?  I know, you think I'm joking, but she really did have high-heeled sneakers.  And some buck-toothed biker-chick, who lived with us for a few months, stole them.  My Mom still brings that up.  Gail better hope that my Mom never runs into her white-trash ass again!

Gail and me.  My fro was far-out!

Anyway, here's a video that I made of my Mom and Sister a billion years ago.

Okay, so I lied.  That's not my Mom.  Sue me!  My Mom actually has dark hair.  But I just wanted you to get an idea of my home-town and the grandmother of my children.

So although I might get a little naughty(just for laughs), I think she would agree that I could be way worse considering...  My memory is pretty good when it comes to these sort of things.  And when I can't remember something, I just pull out her photo albums, that I have, and it all comes flowing back.

I don't know what the hell she's laughing about here.  I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that I'm holding my Dolly.

Have a good weekend!
My Mom's son, m.
p.s.  Wish me luck.  I have 172 cases of Girl-Scout cookies, in my garage, that I have to sort through today.