Posts from the ‘Tales of #2’ Category

The Joys of COPD, 10 Year Old Logic and Potty Training

Life is funny.  I mean, sometimes ya just gotta laugh at it.  I’m so not up to telling the tale again but I will mention the whole job situation is different.  I should have good news to report in the next few days so for now, don’t ask me what happened.  It’s not that exciting and I’m trying to forget it and move on to the next page.

Mom didn’t have her surgery today as was scheduled because she got pretty sick with bronchitis and pneumonia last week.  She is doing better from that but still having a time getting her strength back. 

Need I say again if you smoke….quit.  Just do it and save your family and yourself lotsa trouble later on.  It just complicates everything.  Everytime Mom gets a cold, etc. she gets this horrendous bronchitis thanks to the COPD.  I don’t mind and I know my sister doesn’t mind tending to her or being there when she needs us to be.  It is hard on everybody and things all have to be shuffled around, sometimes late at night when she has a panic spell because she can’t breathe, as happened last Friday night at 9:35. 

#2 was most unhappy about having to go over to Mimi’s that late.  He griped and moaned and I gave him the Guilt Trip speech about “What would you do when you have one of your headaches (he has migraines) and me or Dad wouldn’t help you or do whatever we have to do to make you feel better?”   Eh.  Deaf ears.

Funny thing was though…Saturday afternoon, #2 got to thinking that the next day was Sunday and that might mean he may have to go unto the House of the Lord. This brought him some anxiety and he musta spent a lotta time conjuring up this suggestion he made to me…with a totally straight face..”Um, Mom….you know, Mimi might need us tomorrow so we might oughta stay home from church so we can look after her.”  I screamed laughing. Little stinker.

And here we have some moving pictures of Foster, who is getting bigger by the second.  We are seriously working on potty training (like Dr. Heather the Vet predicted, his early go-round at potty training was great but by 11-12 weeks they sometimes regress.  Foster regressed.)

We walked today out at the park in Hendersonville and I was shocked at how much trash and duck poop covers what could be a really nice park. Mayor Foster (ironic that name huh?) Hendersonville can do better than this.

Random Thursday Babbling


So I had a second interview today.  I want to tell something funny about it but I’m scared to.  I’ll tell it later.  Or email me or something and I’ll tell you.  HI-larious.

Lord help us all…I have discovered Carmen Electra’s Aerobic Striptease videos on OnDemand.   That is some good exercising. 

I took #2 to the Walgreen’s and bought what is probably the last Valentine cards for school that I’ll ever have to buy.  I got a little wistful but it lasted all of about 2 seconds.  I’ve been buying these things since 1997.  They don’t even have “parties” anymore. 

Speaking of #2, he is growing up on me.  I mean, he’s getting taller and just looking older.  He’s doing so well and has come such a long way.   016 He told me tonight he wants to wear “short-sleeved” pants to school tomorrow.  Cracked me up.

Not only did I turn 40 this week, but, so did Jennifer Aniston and tomorrow, my dear friend since high school days, Patrick, hits it.  Happy Birthday, MAN!  I was gonna send you a birthday card (why I asked for your address) but thus far, the card is sitting here on my desk. It’s the thought that counts.

The Facebook Obsession continues….somebody posted this photo today and it makes me laugh.


Check out those Cymbal Playahs there….that one in the middle in the hat is especially hot.  Heh.  Just looking at that picture makes my hair automatically go into “Hat Head” mode.  Ick.

Can You Do This?

Mothers like to think they know everything about their children.  We think there is nothing about the people we give birth to, change their diapers, raise, etc.  We’re the mutha’s for heavens sake.   Mothers are all-knowing and all-seeing. 

Why is it, then, that until today, I did not know that #2 could do this:


I did not know my kid had this talent.  I can’t do this. I’m impressed.


You TOO can learn this tantalizing, tonguerific technique.  Maybe I should start practicing. 

One more cute one just cuz he’s cute.


The All American Family Celebrates Christmas

Christmas morning has been good.  I was a little worried about the kids and how everything would be for them beings this is the first Christmas Post-Transition.  It has been lovely, actually.  The Three Kids spent last evening and night with me.  Their Dad came this morning to watch the Santa-Palooza and then I fixed breakfast. 

We were sitting down to eat and Tara started singing “Do You Hear What I Hear” and #2 echoed her with “Tara- would-you- shut- up?”   HAHAHAHHAHAHA

More pictures over there on the Flickr of the Smiffs putting the FUN in “DysFUNCtional Family Christmas. 

Hope that wherever you are, Christmas is lovely.

I would kinda like to be here right now.  How fun would it be to go iceskating in Central Park on Christmas Day? 

You'll Shoot Your Eye Out!

You'll Shoot Your Eye Out!

I Think I Have Something In My Teeth

photo-09951I think I’m going to suggest that all of my children get their Bubba on, especially if it puts them in such a jolly mood as it did #2 yesterday.


#2 is fun to watch. 

He’s fun to talk to, too.  Yesterday, during our little outing to Mount Olivet, he was impressed with the graves of the Confederate Heroes, the crypt of Adelicia Acklen (above, left) former governors, senators and an Opry star or two.  He said “Mom…I want to be famous so I can be buried here.  That’s my dream.”    (Ok?)

This morning, he was up and rarin’ to go at 6:30 a.m.  He said, randomly, “Mom!!!!  I can’t wait to get my chest hair.  Then I will be a REAL man!” 

I can wait awhile before the chest hair appears.  I’ve already got one boy that’s got it.  I know that it won’t be long before #2 will be changing…if he follows the same pattern his brother did.  Wish I could keep him this age just a little longer.

Nobody Teaches Us How To Grow Old

I was driving down Gallatin Rd. yesterday during lunchtime.  That is one busy road.  It’s not exactly the kinda road one would want to purposely go out and stroll on, although that area has a lot of residents who have to either rely on public transportation or their own two feet to get around. 

I have frequented that part of town a lot over the last 20 years.  I lived off Gallatin Rd. for 5 1/2 years.  I’ve seen all sortsa types of folks crossing that road.  I’ve seen various shapes, sizes, colors, means of crossing, including a guy in a wheelchair with no legs more than once…I’d be scared to death to try to get from the Piccadilly side of Gallatin Rd. to Jenna’s Toybox, myself.

Anyway, I was driving down the road and I saw this older lady in one of those Hoveround things.  I assume this lady is a resident of that Senior apartment complex there behind what used to be Col. Tom Parker’s office.   She was probably at least 75-80 years old.  She was fairly well dressed, had her coif nicely done (betchya she sleeps with toilet paper on her head between her Friday Hair Washin’s). 

One look at the woman you could tell her health is probably not the best it’s ever been, but, considering her age, she’s not doing too bad.  I would imagine her kids probably took her wheels away from her at some point and if she decides she wants to run over to the bank or to the Piccadilly or wherever, she has to rely on the transportation from the complex in which she lives or one of her children has to drive her around.

So, here was this lady, in her Hoverround, waiting to cross Gallatin Rd. My first thought was “What in the world is that woman doing out here on Gallatin Rd. trying to cross this ridiculously busy street in one of those things for?  What is wrong with her??” I wondered if her children and grandchildren had any clue that Maw Maw was crossing Gallatin Rd., zig-zaggin in and out of traffic.  I had a vision of my mother (who will be 74 in a couple of months) doing such a thing.  My mother will barely leave her house in her own vehicle, much less a battery operated contraption like that.

As quick as I had that thought, the thought occurred to me that Hoveround Lady musta wanted to go somewhere and she decided that she wasn’t gonna let a silly little thing like not being able to drive stop her, no sirree.  Where’s my wheels?  Brang ’em here, I want some of that Carrot Souffle’ at the Piccadilly! I was suddenly in awe and admiration of this nameless woman for having lots of cajones. 

The whole scene also made me think about the fact that the good Lawd willin’, I’m going to be that Senior-aged woman (shut up, Much Younger Friends who haven’t even crossed into 30 yet).  I’m just stubborn enough that if I want something bad enough (not Carrot Souffle’ though) I will knock you down til I get whatever it is I’m after.  I don’t like the idea of carpooling to work in a gas shortage because that messes with my independence.  I sho nuff bet at that age, I will resent having to depend on somebody to haul me around.

It’s a scary thought, Old Age.  It’s scary to me that the same turd who left a smart alecky comment on my blog post about him (I told him I would not mention him again on here since he was so offended.  I removed his second comment ‘fo most of you had the chance to see it.)…that same kid, along with the help of the Drama Queen and #2 will someday be involved in major decisions about what old age home I will live out my days in. 

I envision the Drama Queen having to take me grocery shopping, to the doctor…lordy mercy…we will be just like Eunice and Mama. 

Just in 2008 alone, I’ve gotten calls from my mother in the middle of the night, in the middle of my workday, and other times, have had to abandon what I’m doing to go across town to where she lives and deal with a situation.  Hear me, I do not mind doing these things for my mother.  Not one bit.  This is the woman who gave birth to me, wiped my rear end (nevermind that I STILL remember the time she accidentally put toothpaste on my ass instead of Desitin for diaper rash.  Yeah, I have a good memory but you’d remember that one too.  Trust me, toothpaste on yer butt-ox doesn’t get rid of cavities.)  Lord knows the sacrifices Barbara Jean has made on my behalf.  I am quite thankful that I still have her around to do for (yes, I would be even more thankfuller if’n she’d move about 20 minutes closer!).

Do you ever think about your old age?  Is there going to be money for me to live on?  Are my boys going to marry awful women like the daughters in law in Driving Miss Daisy or A Trip To Bountiful?  Will my daughters in law only allow me to hum my hymns when they aren’t around?  I kid, but, ya know…stuff like seeing the old lady in the Hoveround on Gallatin Rd. makes me think about that sorta stuff.

All my life I’ve been taught how to die, but no one ever taught me how to grow old.

BILLY GRAHAM, Newsweek, Aug. 14, 2006

Back To Skoo

Exciting day.  #2 went to see his new teacher AND see his brand new school building for the first time.

I’m still kinda bummed they didn’t name it John R. Cash Elementary.  I guess I’ll get over that eventually.Pretty tickled that #2 has the same 5th grade teacher his sister had.  Mrs. Morris is my absolute favorite teacher of all the teachers my three kids have had. 

I still haven’t processed that my baby has only one more year of Elementary skoo before he head to Middle School next year.  Or that I have a Junior and a Freshman.

Freckle Faced Boy

Look at my cute little boy.  No, the car was not moving when I took these pictures the other day. 

#2 is listening to his hero Wichita Rutherford. We’d already got home, but, he was still listening.  He’s so into Wichita, he wants his own podcast. 

Interesting Pickshas Of The Week

This house was the first house on the street in my subdivision for probably 30 years.  They carted that sucka off and moved it away somewhere earlier this week.  The fact that houses can be scooped up, stuck on a truck and moved elsewhere is very fascinating to me.

Even more fascinating to me was looking on the Property Value Data and seeing what that house and the property it sat on sold for….$300,000.  It sat on the corner of Creekwood and New Shackle Island Rd. just across from the Glenbrook complex (where Target, Kohls, etc. are).  I wish we coulda bought that place when we moved here in 1996. 

I do hope that nice, middle-aged couple that lived there, for God knows how long, got ’em something really nice to shack up in. 

#2 has taken an interest in being a Dadgum Songwriter of late.  He’s even making his own sheet music.  Now, I do not know the reason he was so inspired by Jimmy Martin to write a song about him, but, I do think this right here was pretty dang creative of him. 

This is my pal, Landon.  Now if that’s not the best pacifier ever made, then my name is not Seesta Smiff. 

They had a Zumbathon at the Y last night.  Your Sista Zumba‘d for about 3 hours straight.  It was a fundraiser for the We Build People campaign and I’m telling you what, I had a big ol’ time (with Holly, Diana and Amanda).  This is me, Holly and Diana before the Zumba-ing commenced.  We was too tuckered out when we were done to take an After picture. 

 You talk about a fun way to exercise…that Zumba is really, really fun.  It’s not like you’re working out.  It’s like you’ve gone out dancing, for real.   I’ve gotten so into Spinning that I hadn’t been to a Zumba class in about a month.  We had us a good time, even though some of those moves, are not meant for 39 year old wimmin, such as myseff, who have given birth thrice.  I’m getting better at the shakin’ thing.  ‘Fo long, I’m gonna be able to do that hip shakin’ thing that Shakira girl does.

Sermon on the Mound

Numero Dos had a big time in his musical from Music Camp at church this week.  He had him a bit of a solo spot (I videoed it..will get it up later). 



Tomorrow is the last day of school for the Smiff Kids. #2 has brought all his junk home…folders…books….crap like that.

I was going through said junkola and there was his book report I he did so beautifully.  They had to make a puppet out of a paper sack of a character from the book and then there was this little questionaire where he was supposed to fill out answers to tell about the STOW-ry, right?  #2’s thing went a little sumpin’ like this:

Title of Book:  Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Name of Character: Charlie Bucket.  I’m a little boy who lives near Willy Wonka’s Choclate Factory.  I went to his factory. There was a contest and I won.  We went flying in a elavator.  He anouncend that he was leaving and he wanted me to run the factory.

Think about yourself.  Fill out the form below and compare yourself to this character.

Alike: We both like choclate. We both have parents.  We both have grandparents. 

Not Alike: I don’t live near a factory.  My Mom works.  I eat Hershy Bars. I have some toys.  I have a brother.  I have a sister.

Did you like this character?  Why or why not? (This is the hilarious part) Yes.  I just do so there that’s it.    And this was a Trevor Smith Production.

Waaaa hahahahahahaha…..dang my kid’s so funny.  Maybe he’s not to other people, but, he sho is to me. 

Destined for greatness, that boy is. 

And while we’re on the subject, I can hardly stomach the new Willie Wonka thing.  Those fake teeth that whatshisname wears???  I do like that Augustus Gloop number though, however, I don’t like that they used just one Little Person to be the Oompa Loompa and used all that technical magic.  Nope.  Just think of all the Little People they coulda put to work on that thing?  That ain’t right.

When it comes to Wonkas though..Gene Wilder is da man.

My Mother’s Day Gifts

As far back as I can remember, I can see little Sista playing with baby dolls, pretending to be a Mommy. The only thing I knew for sure I wanted to accomplish in my life was to be a real-life Mom. This big ol boy made that dream come true when I was a month shy of my 23rd birthday. He has been nothing but a joy since that first day. Of my three children, the Manchild is probably the one that feels the most. Mucho heart and soul in this kid. I hear it in the way he plays the guitar, in the way he discusses a plethora of subjects, the way he loves a good comedic delivery…he’s fabulous.

When I woke up Mother’s Day morning, stumbling to make coffee, #2 was sitting on the couch, unusually calm. He presented me with the most fantastic card you could imagine. It was made out of yellow construction paper and in it was a pen with a flower on the top. (“I made that” said #2)
In Sunday morning church, along with her Aunt, I got to sing backup for the Holy Tara. Yeah sure…we had us about 10 Naomi/Wynonna moments before 9:00, but, that the HT even wants to do stuff like that with me says a ton (she smokes me vocally, believe you me. I”m so Skeeter Davis-ish next to her) The word “proud” doesn’t quite describe how it made me feel to hear her beautiful voice ring through the auditiorium this morning.
Mom wasn’t feeling so great this weekend after her immunotherapy treatment the other day, but, I’m blessed to be able to celebrate her and have her here with me on Mother’s Day…no doubt.

I still say my Mama is the prettiest Mama ever.

Clingin’ To The Ollllld Rugged Cross

I looked out the back window today to find my youngest child playing.  That’s not unusual.  He’s quite imaginative, that #2.  It took me a minute to realize just what he was playing…

He took two planks of wood and made hisself a cross.  Pretending he was being crucified.  I was trying to take these pictures without him seeing.  At one point, me and Tyler thought he was gonna pull a Peter and go the upside down route. 

The HT wasn’t home when the crucifixion took place.  We were telling her about it and we were talking about how hysterical it was and how many kids do you know that would play something like that. 

Me and my sister used to play church all the time and baptized each other many a time every summer in the swimming pool. 
The HT said…”That’s, like….weird…..”    May be, but, we didn’t have cable, video games, computers, blah, blah…we walked to school in 10 feet of snow barefoot (no we didn’t) and back in those days, we played and actually, like, used our imaginations.  We were some playing kids.  Serious play. 

The Collie Sisters did play us some Church now.   We’d take turns preaching, singing, all that.  I’m sure our sermons were some sorta powerful. 

We also used to…on all those long, tedious trips to various antique malls, furniture stores (our mother loved to go to furniture stores, yet, I don’t remember there always being new furniture purchased.  We had the same couch from the time I was in Kindergarten until after I married and moved away.  I guess that was her diversion.)  Anyhoo…we’d go along to these furniture store trips and we’d act like we were foreign and like we spoke Spanish or something.  The funny part to me is we actually thought we were fooling people.  This woulda been about the time this fabulous picture was taken…back when we often were dressed alike….I mean, look at that face….is that a face of a kid who had imagination?

And what color is that Dad had on?  We was stylin’.

I was pretty glad #2 provided a little comic relief today.  It was needed. 

It’s A Gift

Here’s a great article from written by somebody with Asperger’s.  The things the writer describes are very similiar to #2.  He has a sense of humor though.  He does take things you say literally, which is challenging for a sarcastress like me. 

The more I learn about Asperger’s and the more stuff like this I read, the more I realize that really, my #2 has a gift.   


One of these days, he’s going to take these instruments he pretends to play and he’s going to break into Rawhide or something.