Foolish Thoughts

Last night I slept the most peaceful sound sleep I can remember.  After climbing into bed around 2:00am, by body sunk in to the high thread count sheets and the bed consumed me.  The down pillows cradled my head like a mother would her baby.  I instantly fell asleep.  I was safe.

Other than my own bed, there is only one other place I feel completely comfortable and safe, and that is my moms bed.  Now, because I still have another week off I have decided to stick around my parent’s house.  Mainly, because my two sisters have already gone back home and my mother cooks for me, does my laundry, holds me, hugs me, loves, and gives me all her attention.  Exactly, who wouldn’t stick around an extra week for that?  Now, for the past week I have been sharing a room with my younger sister.  I will have to say it was fun and interesting.  Fun being, upon entering the room we became giddy school girls, giggling and gossiping.  And interesting being, we were both way too big for the twin beds my mother decided best fit the room.  Our feet hung over the end of the bed, and constantly, my head and arms pounded the wall.  I actually have a bruise on my left hand where in the process of rolling over, I flung my arm so violently that I smacked it in to the wall.  I should tell you, I’m a tosser.  I toss and turn all night long…until last night that is.

For the past three years, my parents spend New Year’s at my dad’s park.  He always has a “big-to-do” New Year’s Eve party.  I on the other hand, have my own plans for New Years and opted not to partake in their festivities.  I don’t much care for where my dad works, and I was defiantly not going to spend a weekend, let alone New Years held up in a scene from “Deliverance.”  Sorry, I failed to mention that my dad is the Events Coordinator for a State Park.  It’s nothing but cabins and woods, oh, and wild life.  I like to think it sounds fun, but it never is.

So, last night after spending yet another evening with Jaymez and Aymen watching “Dirty Love” I come home and I’m faced with the dilemma of where to sleep:  The room with the twin beds?  No.  The guest room, where there is a random shower in the corner of the room? No, no one ever sleeps in the guest room besides my older sister, why, I have no idea…there’s a freaking SHOWER in the room.  I could always sleep on the couch, where I usually sleep when I ‘m visiting.  No, I want to sleep in a bed, a big bed, a big comfortable bed.  Then, leaving only one room left, I knew where I was going to sleep…Mom’s bed.  Oh, yes.  I felt like Goldie Locks finding the best bed in the house.  There is something about sleeping in my parent’s bed that is safe and comforting.  I guess it has to do with being little and when we were scared, sick, or hurt my mom always let us sleep with her.  Her bed always made everything seem better.  I always slept better when I slept with my mom, which is probably why after my dad moved back home when I was 12, my younger sister, Tara and I would still sleep in the floor beside mom.  It was safe and familiar.  Now, being 25 and looking for the safest and most comfortable place to sleep, I go straight to Mom’s room.  However, I realized this morning when I woke up that I slept on the left side of the bed.  I always sleep in the middle of the bed, always.  But, in Mom’s bed I always sleep on the left, because she always sleeps on the right.  Even though she wasn’t there, I still slept on the left because that’s how it was when I was little.  I didn’t even realize I did this until this morning.

So, tonight being New Year’s Eve, I’m not sure where I will be laying my head.  But, I know it will be nothing compared to last night.  Hopefully, I will make it home at some point and I can pass out in the best bed ever!

“NINE?”

“Yeah, nine.”

“What time is it now?”

“A little after six.”

“Why can’t we go now?”

“Because, I can’t go now.”

“Why can’t you go now?”

“BECAUSE, I JUST CAN’T!”

“STOP YELLING!”

“I’M NOT YELLING.  YOU STOP YELLING!”

“I’M NOT!”

“YES YOU ARE!”

“Did you just wake up?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Have you been asleep ALL DAY?”

“No, not all day, just since…….three.”

“THREE?”

“YES! STOP YELLING!

“I’M NOT!  AND YOU’RE HATEFUL WHEN YOU WAKE UP!”

“YES YOU ARE!  AND YES I AM, BUT YOU KNEW THIS ABOUT ME!”

“True.”

“So, I will see you at nine?”

“FINE.”

“FINE.”

“BYE.”

“BYE.”

Tonight, while Jaymez and Aymen drank the hell out of multiple
Long Island’s we watched “Dirty Love.”  Let me just tell you, I laughed until my gut hurt.  Jenny McCarthy is absolutely HILARIOUS, along with the shockingly good performance from Carmen Electra, (I know, who knew that Carmen Electra could play a gangsta, and play it well?).  Now, I’ve heard some people don’t find Jenny McCarthy’s humor funny, but I DO.  Though, this particular movie might have been funny because I was watching it with two of the funniest people I know and they were drunk, or it could have been that Jenny McCarthy reminded us so much of a girl we know, Claire, who IS absolutely, always a good time, pee your pants funny.  NO, the movie was just THAT funny.  (Note to self:  STOP using all caps so often…it’s not appealing to the eye.)  If you’re looking for a movie that will make you laugh, laugh until you cry, laugh until you pee your knickers, laugh until you’re bent over with side stitches, then this is the movie for you. 

Just incase my AMAZINGLY WONDERFUL recommendation wasn’t enough, I was going to include a small clip.  But, while trying to make your life a little easier, I managed to make mine quite difficult and frustrating.  I had trouble getting the stupid ”embed” thing to work.  So, here is a link…go watch.   

“No, I’m Jewish.”

“Pirates can be Jewish.”

“When was the last time you saw a Jewish pirate?  ………  Wait, when was the last time you saw a pirate?”

“I don’t know.”

“Exactly, so shut up!”
 
*A kitchen conversation with Jaymez.

 View pictures of London

I’m working on a new layout and it’s not going well…bare with me, please.

I only know Stephanie through her book, blog and brief emails.  I’ve never actually met her, which is why I was so surprised by my overflowing display of waterworks when I saw the picture of her and Lucas.  I guess even though you may not physically know someone you still are capable of forming a connection and bond.  

Though small and surrounded by tubes, Lucas looked perfect.  He looked so content nestled up to her chest.  Stephanie’s expression conveyed complete bliss.  Seeing Lucas’s tiny, fragile hand wrapped around his mother’s finger, even now fills my eyes and heart up all over again.  I am so happy for Stephanie and Phil.  Stephanie has wanted children for quite some time and I know she is going to be an amazing, unbelievable mother to Lucas Beckett and Abigail Ruby.  They may have started out very small and fragile, but with Stephanie as a mother, only big, wonderful things are in store for them.  Mother and babies are unbelievably blessed.

Stephanie:  I’m so proud and happy for you.  You, Phil, Lucas, and Abigail are in my thoughts and prayers.

To view the picture click here.  

Tonight I want to be seven again, waiting by the phone for my daddy to call.  I want to tell him about my day and how much I miss him.  I want him to tell me he’s proud of me.  I want him to kiss me on the forehead and tell me good night.  However, his “good night” phone calls stopped coming a long time ago, but I need to hear his voice.

When my father was away during the week he would call every evening at or bedtime to tell us good night.  The evening’s events would lead up to his phone call; homework, dinner, bath, Fraggle Rock, Daddy, then bed.  My sister’s and I could tell it was him by the ring, it sounded different when he called.  The three of us would race to the phone, which was attached to the wall in the kitchen and included a cord that stretched all the way into the living room, it went on for miles. I would become fascinated by how many times I could wrap it around my body…I know, its mind blowing.  Our mother was usually the one to answer, with us screaming in the background, “Daddy, I love you.”  “No daddy, I love you.”  “I love you more.”  At this, my mother would give “The Mom look” and we knew to shut-up and let her talk.  I cannot recall specific conversations they shared, mainly because I was too concerned with what I was going to say to him.  I wanted to give him a complete account of my day, leaving no detail out.  I would include what I had for breakfast, lunch, and dinner; also I would not forget to tell him what I had for a snack once I got home from school.  I would tell him about my day, always including art and gym…I rocked those.  (Not a year went by that I did not receive the Presidential Fitness Award, yeah, I was that cool.  There is even a plaque hanging in my elementary school with my name on it because I was such the Presidential Fitness Champ).  Then, when I would run out of things to tell him, I would begin to say anything and everything, stalling for time.  “Ummmm, there was something else I wanted to tell you.  Um, let me think……………Mommy, what was that thing I was going to tell Daddy?”  Now, being the Super Mom that she was, like always, my mother knew all my tricks, “Brooke Alexandra, please tell your daddy good night and you love him.  Give your sister’s a turn.”  “Daddy, Mommy says I have to go.”  “Well, we better listen to her.  We don’t want Mommy mad at us, do we?”  “No.”  “Ok, night Baby Doll.” “Night Daddy, love you.”  “Love you too.” 

“It’s REALLY funny.  Hang on; let me think for a minute to make sure I tell it right.  You know I’m not good at telling jokes.”

“Yes, we know.  Take your time please.  We don’t want to hear it if you can’t tell it right.”

“Ok, ok, ok, I got it…I think.  So, Little Timmy is outside with Grandpa helping him in the garden.  Grandpa opens a beer and takes a drink.  Little Johnny looks at Grandpa and says…”

“WAIT, WAIT, WAIT.  I thought you said his name was, “Little Timmy?”

“It is. That’s what I said.”

“No, you didn’t.  You said, Johnny.” 

“Sorry, Little TIMMY looks at Grandpa and says, ‘Grandpa, can I have one of those?’ and Grandpa says, ‘Tommy…”

“KATELYN…get the poor boys name right.  I’ve never heard the joke, but I know his name is Timmy.  Not Johnny or Tommy.  Are you sure you can tell the joke?  Do you need a few minutes to collect your thoughts and story line?  Wow, you DO really suck at telling jokes.

“SORRY!  It doesn’t matter what his name is, that’s not the joke.  The joke is REALLY funny, just let me finish it. GAWD!”

“O.K., please continue.”

“So…Little TIMMY say’s…”

“Wait, now I’m all confused, I don’t know where we are.  Start over, start from the beginning.”

“OMIGAWD!  You two SUCK!”

“Just start over.”

One day Little Timmy and Grandpa were out working in the garden.  Grandpa pulls out a beer and starts drinking.  Little Timmy looks at Grandpa and asks, “Grandpa, can I have one of those?”  And Grandpa replies, “Timmy, I have only one question for you.  Can your dick reach back and poke you in the ass?”  Little Timmy says, “No, Grandpa.”  Grandpa says, “Then no, Timmy you can’t have a beer.”

Later on in the day Little Timmy and Grandpa are working on Grandpa’s car.  Grandpa pulls out a cigar and starts smoking.  Little Timmy looks at Grandpa and asks, “Grandpa, can I have one of those?”  Grandpa says, “Timmy, I have only one question for you.  Can your dick reach around and poke you in the ass?”  And Timmy says, “No, Grandpa.”  Grandpa says, “Then no, Timmy you can’t have a cigar.”

Later that evening Little Timmy is in the kitchen with Grandma eating a plate of chocolate chip cookies.  Grandpa walks in and looks at Timmy and says, “Timmy, those chocolate chip cookies look really good, can I have one?”  Timmy looks at Grandpa and says, “Grandpa, I have only one question for you.  Can your dick reach around and poke you in the ass?”  And Grandpa says, “Well yes Timmy, it can.”  Little Timmy replies, “Good, then go fuck yourself, cause Grandma made these cookies for ME!” 

See, it was funny.  Though, it would have been more entertaining if Katelyn had been telling it.