Throw Another Shrimp in the Pot

A shrimp boat in with the catch of the day

This weekend my husband and I will be hosting our first shrimp boil for about 22 people. In fact, it's our first party in our new home. We're a little nervous.

First of all, we've never held a shrimp boil before. Some of my new friends are being very kind in helping steer us. When I was at Hobby Lobby last weekend and about to purchase a plastic table cloth to dump the shrimp on, my neighbor told me to use newspaper instead. "It will soak up the juices and the shrimp won't slide off," Winnie said. Good to know.

Another neighbor told us to figure for a half pound per person. OK. Got it. But then she added, "But then heads take up about a third of the weight, so you need to factor that in." People will peel the shrimp, devein and pinch the heads off? Is that what you do at a shrimp boil? Pull heads off? Apparently, yes.

I've been told to buy the frozen small corn on the cob, serve mojitos, buy the shrimp from Dong on 11th St., buy the booze from the liquor store on the main drag, spray the yard with mosquito deterrent, and asked what kind of dessert am I serving. My head is swimming with details. Oh, and did I mention that my husband's boss is coming too?

The great news is that the weatherman is predicting a high of 71 degrees and a low of 56 on party night. Perfect for starting the fire pit.

So, here I am on Tuesday in countdown mode. And I still haven't a clue on what to serve for dessert. Maybe my grandmother's blueberry pie?

And with this swimming in my mind, I'm about to go teach water aerobics. I asked my husband to download some Halloweenish songs for our workouts. Late last night he started the task and I noticed very dark, Gothic music being played. Not wanting to discourage him I asked, "Is that what you're thinking of for the ladies?" Yes, he said. "Oh, that's interesting. But I was thinking more along the lines of the Monster Mash, the Munster's theme song, Witchy Woman, or Devil in the Blue Dress." Then I went to bed. It's a good thing he loves me.

Wondering if 13 lbs. of shrimp will do?

The Wondering Texan

Quotable Quote
Last night, after the Halloween song discussion, my husband came into our bedroom, turned on the light and then started to throw his dirty clothes on me. I rose up and asked, "Just what are you doing?" His response, "Messing with you. You're my favorite target."

Most normal husbands kiss their wives goodnight don't they?

The Differences Between the X and Y Chromosomes

Sweet aren't they? This was a rare moment.

Last night as we were settling down for the evening, our daughter went into her bedroom and started to straighten her hair. Mind you, this is at 9 p.m.

As my husband and I sat on the couch watching Arizona play against UCLA, our son came into the den and asked, "why is she straightening her hair?"

Before I could say anything, my husband answered, "Don't try to understand women. It's impossible."

Our son then said, "But doesn't she know that in the morning she's going to wake up with bed head?"

To which my husband answered, "I'm telling you, don't try to understand. I'm a lot older than you and I don't understand."

This whole time, I'm sitting on the couch invisible to them. But I understand. It's because she's 13. Thirteen-year-old girls spend an enormous amount of time fretting over their hair, clothes, who said what, and making friends. It's a difficult age for girls. I haven't met one woman who would want to be 13 again. Or even 17 again. Am I wrong?

And for as much as my son doesn't understand his sister, the same is true of her understanding him. A few months ago she came to me totally exasperated by him. "Mother, he's bugging me again. Why did you and Dad have to have him? Little brothers are such a pain!"

I looked at her, nodded and said, "Yes I know. They can be difficult."

She looked at me and said, "How would you know?"

Wait for it, this is the best part.

I looked at her and in my best Valley Girl voice said, "Duh, Uncle Carl." 

That got her. She couldn't help but smile and laugh a little. I did add that little brothers eventually grow up and become less annoying. Of course, she has a long way to go before this happens.

So, in the meantime, my children will continue to perplex, annoy and anger each other. And it will give my husband and me headaches and laughs.

Wondering when the defining moment will come that my children, although they may never fully understand each other, will understand that eventually they share a unique bond.

Quotable Quote:
We met some new neighbors Winnie and Warren. Winnie told me they used to run the family's ranch in Nebraska. I asked her where and she said, "Northwest of Nowhere."  She lasted five years there before, "I packed my dogs, jewelry and clothes and told him I'm moving back to Houston," she said. You can take the girl out of the city but not the city out of the girl.

Getting Past the Uncertainty

Last week I had my one-year post cancer check-up. Almost exactly a year ago I completed my radiation following surgery and chemo. And I have to tell you, for the past two weeks I've been a nervous wreck.

Friends worth a million.

I drove six hours to visit my oncologist in Fort Worth for review of my blood work and CT scan. Although I was looking forward to visiting my family and friends, I couldn't shake the "what if's."

Fortunately, everything turned out really well and I don't have to visit her again for six months or have another CT scan for a year. And thank goodness for technology because I'm going to stay with her versus trying to find an oncologist along the coast. "I have patients who live in Europe and one who lives in Bahrain, so it's not a problem for you to continue your relationship with me," she said. 

So, once I got the all clear report from her, I think I must have lost about 20 pounds of anxiety. All of the sudden, the world got brighter and I slept like a baby that night.

All of my friends and family did a great job keeping me busy and comfortable. So pampered in fact that it was tough to come back to the reality of dirty laundry, homework, psycho dog, and taxi service for the kids.

As the dutiful wife, I left my husband the family schedule. Pick-up our son from choir, then take him to tennis. Then feed the kids before darting off to our daughter's first choir concert. Don't forget to make lunches for the next day. Don't forget to feed the dogs. Drop our son off at school by 7:30 a.m. entering from the south end of the parking lot. Then drop our daughter off at school. Put the trash out on Friday.

It was like the movie Mr. Mom.

What is really funny is that I hadn't been in Fort Worth three hours before I got the first call from hubby. "How do you work a curling iron?" he asked. But I didn't have much time to elaborate because I was dashing out to meet girlfriends. It was GNO (Girls Night Out) and I needed to get my mind off of things. My Dad and Stepmother were going out that night too. She told me, "you'll probably be back before us, so here's the garage code." She doesn't know my girlfriends that well. I returned home to find my bed turned down with a sweet note on the pillow. "We beat you home. Hope you had fun. XOXOXO."  I crawled into bed and thought that it doesn't matter how old you get, it's nice to be occasionally pampered.

But, all good things must end. So Sunday I drove back home to my lovable, chaotic life. When I entered the house my husband gave me a big hug and said, "See the house doesn't look that bad does it?"

Sticky floors and dirty laundry can always be washed later. But time with family and friends can never be replaced.

Wondering how I get past the anxiety of post cancer?

The Wondering Texan

The Need for Energy

Our Bird of Paradise bloom

For some reason, I always look forward to weekends. Sleeping late, eating out, lounging on the couch. Oh wait, that was my life before kids. At least when the kids were tiny, I got nap time. Now, I get, "Mama, can we go NOW to the festival?" Or, "Mom, would you take Courtney and me to the movies?" And then there's my husband, "Sweetie, I forgot the hunting license. Can you drive out and meet me with it?"

I remember thinking when I was around 23 years old that I would never be one of those worn-out wives/mothers. I would be the cool mom, the cool wife. The one in slender jeans without a muffin top. Now I realize that to be cool takes more energy than I have.

Our weekend started with us going to see a friend's brother and sister-in-law sing at SeaFair. As the duo sang their country hearts out, I started to get sleepy. Around 10:30 p.m., we packed the kids up and went home to bed. I remember when I didn't go out BEFORE 10 p.m. Now, that's bedtime. Pathetic I know.

Our goofy son at the parade.

Then we had to be up early the next morning for our son to participate in the parade as a member of the Boy Scouts. Later in the day my husband and son went dove hunting only to learn our German Short-Haired pointer is scared of gunshot. Then our daughter had a friend spend the night, and we had neighbors over for dinner last night. At 9:30 p.m., my husband was sound asleep on the couch.

I don't know exactly when or how it happened, but we've turned into our parents. Actually, my Dad and stepmother seem to have way more energy and social life. But then again, they don't have two kids at home. Oh well, some day it will again be our turn to be out past 10 p.m. Until then, please don't call us after 9 p.m. since we will probably be asleep.

Wondering why no one tells you the 40s are so exhausting.

The Wondering Texan

P.S.
Our Bird of Paradise plant in the backyard bloomed over the weekend. We've never had one before and have no idea how to care for it. Another thing I've got to Google.

Quotable Quote:
I told my husband over the weekend how cute and macho he looked in his hunting outfit. He corrected me, "It's not an outfit. I don't wear outfits." Apparently, men wear jeans, shoes and shirts. Not outfits. Whatever. 

The Little Shop of Metal

All he needs is a captain's shoulder.

Today I ventured out to find pansies. No pansies in the stores yet, but on my way back I stopped in a quirky store facing I-35. You've probably seen similar stores dotting major highways with wood carvings, tin animals, cement alligators. Have you ever wondered who owns these? Do they ever sell anything?

Well, I had to find out. As I was walking through the maze of cement Dutch boys and metal pink flying pigs, a voice called out behind me, "be careful of my watch dog." I turned around and faced a pint-sized dachshund. True, he is a killer with those big Hershey Kisses eyes. "He came to work with me today because he's got tonsillitis and a double ear infection," the owner said.

Cute, but too big for my yard

"He's just like a kid," I laugh.

This is how I met Laura and her guard dog Barney. Laura opened Paradise Shells & Gifts back in April. She said it was her husband's "big idea" leaving her to implement it. He's a minister. She sells cement and metal animals on the eight acres they have owned for more than a decade. Laura buys and sells whatever catches her fancy. Iron animals from Mexico, cement figures she molds and paints herself, purses and assorted other merchandise she finds at markets.

I asked her if she has a marketing plan or a merchandise vision for her store. She laughs at me.

Poor Barney has a sore throat and infected ears

"I offer everyone a lot to look at and a heart healthy workout," she tells me. Summer is particularly tough with the humidity and triple-digit Texas temperatures. When I pointed out that she needs a window unit in the trailer, she said, "yes, but then nobody would go outside." Good point. Obviously, I would not be a good retailer.

So, what's the top seller I ask. Depending on the day, the multicolored metal fish are hot items, which she personally favors. The pink flamingos also get their share of rides home.

I never did find those pansies. But I did bring home a metal, white crane with a fish in its beak. Which answers my question if anyone buys these items. I've named him Walter where he has taken up residence in corner of our backyard.

Wondering how long it will take my husband to notice Walter. Want to place bets?

The Wondering Texan

Quotable Quote:
Today my son came home from school complaining about a kid who never stops talking. He said, "no matter what misery they dump on him, he keeps talking. And he never gets thirsty."

Yikes! There's a Teenager in the House

Silly times at Charming Charlie's

Our daughter turned 13 on Sunday. It's now official. Her father and I are the dumbest people on the planet. Except for when we decided to have her.

Last night, she was moody and "giving attitude" to my husband. My husband turned to me and asked, "so this is the beginning? How long do you think this will last?"

I almost hated to tell him but we've got probably about five more years of the 'tude.

Chocolate cake and ice cream. Is anything better?

For her party on Saturday night, my sister-in-law and I took four girls to the mall, followed by pizza and a movie. Each girl received $10 in mad money for the trip. I told one girl's father the mall plan and he looked at me and said, "that sounds like hell."

But truthfully, what else do young girls want to do? And they were really good without any drama. My sister-in-law and I dutifully followed a respectable four-to-five feet behind the girls as they darted in and out of crowds and stores. We probably looked like two mama bears strolling behind their cubs.

At the end of the four hours in the mall, my sister-in-law and I looked at each other and couldn't remember the last time we had spent that much time in a mall. It's definitely for the young. Our feet hurt, our throats were dry, and we just wanted to sit down.

But everyone made it through and the credit cards weren't flaming. A good time by all.

Wondering what boys want to do when they turn 13?

The Wondering Texan

Quotable Quote:
Over the weekend, my husband and I were at an event. We met a couple whose husband recently retired. The wife told us her perspective on retirement, "I married him for richer and poorer, for better and worse. But not for lunch." That made us chuckle.