Just Jenny!!

This is for Willa :o)

2009-08-20T13:28:00.000-07:00

I thought that I was safe. I thought that I had taken all the necessary precautions in order to be able to take a Chloe-free shower. I made sure an entertaining, yet educational episode of "Sesame Street" was on the television. She had an array of fun books and favorite stuffed animals all around to distract her. She just had a snack and was finishing up her drink. Surely, I could take a 7 to 10 minute shower without interruption.

As I enjoyed the silence from the living room, I looked out the window from the shower at the beautiful blue sky. Aaah, how peaceful. As I successfully finished rinsing out the conditioner from my hair, I was in the home stretch. One last step--slather on the body wash, quickly rinse it off, hop out of the shower and dive into my towel and robe. I was so close. So close. When I reached for my faithful puff and my bottle of imitation Caress body wash, I heard the little voice. I froze.

Suddenly, the shower curtain violently flew open a la "Psycho" and I looked down to the bathroom floor in front of me. There stood my silly little daughter, sans clothing, and repeatedly saying, "I take shower! I get in shower!!" She wouldn't take "no" for an answer as I cried, "But I'm almost done! Chloe, I'm almost done!"

She climbed in the tub and giggled maniacally as the water soaked her completely. Oh well. Who really wants time to themselves anyway?

Fe-fi-fo-fum...

2009-01-08T11:31:00.001-08:00

I love this picture of Floyd and Chloe. We took this photo in the fall at the Apple Blossom Farm next to the train because Chloe is obsessed with "choo-choos", as she calls them.

The longer I look at this picture, the more I crack up. I love his silly, slack-jawed face and Chloe looks like a monkey. I've always gotten a kick out of the size difference between them ..Floyd being 6'5" and Chloe is about an inch shy of three feet tall. The best part to me is the train behind them. That is proof that I married a giant..my husband is bigger than a locomotive.

(Chloe doesn't have to worry about being struck by a train if she's walking along the tracks. As long as Daddy is behind her, he will crush it with his giantosity. )

My voting experience

2008-11-04T15:20:00.000-08:00

**NOTE: For this post, my two year old daughter wanted to share her "voting" experience today on Election Day. Enjoy.

Hello. My name is Chloe and today was my first experience going to polls to place my vote. Now, I know what you may be thinking: What the heck does a two year old know about voting or world affairs in general? Well, allow me to elaborate. Even though I am young, I do like to keep up on current events. I may not know what certain terms mean, such as "tax revenue" or "electoral college" or "lipstick on a pitbull", but I've been known to glance through the newspaper and Momma and Dada's Newsweek or Time magazines. To be honest, my political knowledge and connections started early. When I was born, my dada was a political science major at Western Illinois University and he would read political books to me as I lived in Momma's womb. When Momma was in the hospital waiting for me to arrive into the world, the television was showing nothing but coverage about President Gerald Ford's passing. Eerily enough, I was born on December 30, 2006--the day Saddam Hussein was hanged. I also attended a couple of Joe Biden Presidential rallies last year, and I even got my picture taken with him! So, truthfully, I've been interested in political affairs before I was even born.

In America, I've learned that there are Republicans and Democrats. Elephants and donkeys. I know and love people who are associated with both parties. One of my grandfathers (who I lovingly call "Pa") is a Republican. In fact, my momma was raised a Republican. As she got older, she felt she related more to Democrats so she's affliliated with them now. My other Pa is Democratic, too, as well as his wife (one of my Grammas) and Dada is too. I think my uncle Pauly is more Green or Independant, and that's okay too. All I know is that it's important to vote and I've been looking forward to November 4th for a long time now (atleast half my life). When I hear Momma say that there was a time in the past when women or men who were not white couldn't vote, I was appalled! So I feel it is very important to have my voice heard, and in sixteen years, I'll be at the polls bright and early. I will do it because of those who years before fought for women's rights and civil rights and because I think that if one does not vote, one cannot complain about the ways of the world if they are not "up to one's standards."

Anyway, today was a good day. My dada is an election judge at one of the precincts here in town and he voted for Obama/Biden on the first day of early voting. He's been really excited this voting season, and I'm proud of him for volunteering to be a judge at the polling place. After Momma and I dropped lunch off to Dada, it was time to go to our precinct to place our vote. I proudly wore my "Little Democrat" T-shirt, which we later found out was a "no-no" when you go to the polls. Evidently, they don't want you to wear buttons, stickers, clothing, etc. that could be considered campaigning paraphernalia. But frankly, I didn't care. I feel that I was exercising my right of freedom of speech. (and honestly, the Democratic election judges liked my shirt). Anyhoo, my first voting experience was wonderful. And I'm sure there are many people out there who think that I just went to the polls in order to get my "I voted electronically" sticker. Although, I must admit that was a major bonus (I LOVE stickers!!), I went to vote for Obama and my old buddy, Joe (since we go way back) and because I wanted to perform my right as an American. Yeah!! Go USA!! Go Obama/Biden '08! :)

Oh Jesus..

2008-10-07T12:04:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: Do not read if you have a weak stomach.

You know, when I was pregnant, I read up on a few pregnancy and parenting books and magazines, just to give me an "idea" of what to expect. I must admit, I didn't read half the material that Floyd did. In fact, there were many times he would jokingly scold me that I should do a little more studying on the baby subject, especially since we were going to be first time parents. It was a great suggestion, since we all know that babies don't arrive into the world with individual instruction manuals. So I read my magazines and books and I felt like a had a decent idea of what to expect.

Boy, was I wrong.

When it comes to having a child, so many things can happen in just a five to seven minute time span in your life. And I don't think those bastards who write material about babies tell you this. One moment, my sweet child is happily drawing on her big pad of paper. Then catch a whiff of something foul emanating from her diaper. I get up and proclaim, "Chloe, let's change your diaper. Want a new diaper?" So as I walk across the room to her diaper bag, I hear a sound that stops me dead in my tracks. The sound of Velcro. I turn around. "Shit, she's taking off her diaper!!" I say. "Chloe, stop! STOP!!"

Chloe has undone only one side of her diaper and she sprints like a cheetah across the living room until she's cornered between the front door and her angry mommy. She has her hands up on the front door like she's about to be frisked and she's laughing maniacally. I quickly remove her diaper and realize it is a rabbit pebble texture and I try to locate any missing pebbles. Ah, gross..there's three of them on the floor. I..*ugh*..pick them up and pitch them and the diaper in the trash. Then Chloe hands another pebble to me. *Shudder* So, now not only do I have to sanitize my hands, I have to sanitize my daughter's hands as well. (Actually, I'm just glad she didn't eat it.)

Just when I think all is well now and everything and everyone is cleaned up, another sound gets my attention, followed by her notorious catchphrase--"Uh-oh!!" I glance into the living room and sigh. She has dumped an almost full canister of sweet potato puffs onto the floor. It was just opened yesterday. I use one of Floyd's beloved Presidents of the United States placemats and scoop up the hundreds of puffs piled on the floor and return to the garbage.

Calgon, take me away and serve me a White Russian!!!

I am Cornholio!!!

2008-09-24T01:25:00.000-07:00

I've never really been a fan of coffee. I love the smell, but hate the taste. My husband likes to stop by Starbucks every now and then, and in the past, I've always decided on hot chocolate. (Boring.) Recently, I've discovered that if I order a Frappucino with a flavor that has chocolate to it, it seems to mask the coffee flavor and I've learned to enjoy coffee drinks. I've found that on occasion, I even find myself craving Starbucks.(Wtf? A non-coffee lover fiending for that bittersweet caffeinated elixir?) So tonight, about ten minutes to 10, we drove past two Starbucks on the way home. Floyd does a u-turn on University and says, "Let's get a Starbucks.." My face lights up because he read my mind. I order my secret love, a 9,700 calorie grande Mint Mocha Chip Frappucino. MmMMm..chocolate and mint is pure bliss in my opinion. I don't even care if it has that pesky coffee in it. Whether I order that, or my second secret love, a Double Chocolate Chip Frappucino, it doesn't matter. Oh my Jesus, I'm in heaven. And it was good to last drop...unfortunately, I didn't take into account the possibility that drinking this liquid crack late at night would be problematic. What could possibly be the problem?? Well, my conundrum is that it's 3:48 am and I can't fucking sleep.

I am wide awake. I went to bed and got under the sheets about 1:15. Floyd was snoozing happily and rather softly while I couldn't shut my mind off. I kept thinking about the most inane things, such as, 'What's Chloe going to be for Halloween? Gee, I hope someone is having a Halloween party..Floyd and I can "dress up" as Peter and Lois from "Family Guy". I wonder if he has any green pants to complete the "costume"? Hmm..maybe I should get up and mop the kitchen floor..I feel like I should finish reading my book before book club on Sunday..'

Damn it, this is so aggravating. Not being a coffee drinker, I didn't think about the caffeine keeping me awake all damn night. I truly feel like I'm the incarnation of Beavis' alter ego, Cornholio...

(UPDATE: Well, I finally did get some shut-eye...after 7 am. Then I said goodbye to Floyd as he left for work around 8ish, and Chloe's crying woke me about 10:30. I feel so well rested. Sigh...)

Just call me Sybil

2008-07-17T09:46:00.000-07:00

Well...that's not entirely true. I don't suffer from multiple personality disorder. I'm too boring for that. Although, I do think there are several "people" who make up my personality...kinda like that show "Herman's Head" from the early 90's, with the guy Herman who had four conflicting characters that were a part of his psyche. Allow me to introduce them.

The first one is a man I'll name Clarence. He's an old crotchety sonuvabitch, probably in his late eighties, who wears his trousers up to his nipples and carries a cane with him so he can wave it in a menacing manner whenever a young whippersnapper pisses him off, which is ALL the time. He doesn't like teenagers, he still has a rotary phone, he wishes people would just stay off his grass, and he always talks about the good old days...when he had to walk 10 miles in the snow to school uphill both ways. Clarence doesn't really care for change. I hate to admit it, but he's a big part of my psyche. He rears his ugly head usually when stupid people get on my nerves, which is quite often, because I work in a retail setting. :o( It's Clarence that appears whenever I mutter, "Damn kids" when I see a group of college kids running around a store acting like morons, or when I think "Dumb bastard" when I see people driving while talking on their phones. Ha ha.. I like Clarence.

Another prominent figure in my personality is a spoiled little brat. I have to call her Veruca, since Veruca Salt from "Willy Wonka" is who comes to mind. The epitome of an annoying little ingrate who has everything but wants more, more, more. She must ALWAYS have her way, no matter what. Now, I try to keep this little bitch well hidden. I don't want her to see the light of day. It's funny because I never grew up spoiled. I'm not rich, not flashy, and I'm fine with that. But somehow, over the years, that whiny little Veruca was somehow created and I hate it. She usually appears when I have a day off on Sunday, and my husband is leaving to meet his buddies for cards. He usually meets them around two and doesn't get back til ten or so. I honestly don't mind him hanging out with his friends. Not at all..they're great guys. But it's not often I get a weekend off, and when I have a weekend off , I want to spend it with him. Unfortunately, Veruca won't allow me to eloquently express my request. Oh no. She pouts when she doesn't like what she hears. "Oh..so you'll hang out with them ALL day and ALL night?? Oh, okay..well, that's fine. I just thought maybe WE could hang out together..as a FAMILY..you know..since I actually for once have the WHOLE day off.." And when those guilt-trip laden words come out of my mouth, I get so pissed off at myself, I just want to smack myself across the face. Poor Floyd. He's such a good guy and shouldn't have to put up with that Veruca side of me. Maybe someday Veruca will be so fed up from never getting her way that she'll run away. :o)

There's a part of my personality who I don't mind. He's about fifteen, and for lack of a better name, I'll just call him Beavis. I have to be honest..I have the humor of a fifteen year old boy. I'm not appalled by movies that specialize in toilet humor and fart jokes. They make me happy. I giggle incessantly when people say, "It is my duty" or "I do do that". I always think "Ha ha..they said 'dooty' " or "Heehee..."doo-doo".." My humor is on an immature level. I can't help it. But I think it makes life more enjoyable, because almost anything a person says, I can twist it around into a double meaning, and it makes my heart smile.

Well, once you get past the cantankerous old man, the little girl who needs a good kick in the ass, and teenage boy who gets a laugh at silly things, you're left with Jenny. Just Jenny. The thirty year old woman who deep down still feels like she's in high school most of the time. The woman who's always thinking about her friends and family, even those she hasn't talked to in a while. She's the one who can empathize with anyone, who wishes the world was a better place for her child and future children to grow up in. She's the one who loves her husband and little girl deeply. She hopes that she will always be someone her little girl can look up to, and hopefully someday, when she's gone, she will be remebered for being kind and thoughtful, and funny as hell. I think that is the true Jenny.

I wonder if Quentin ever belts out, "Thank You For Being a Friend" from time to time...

2008-06-30T13:09:00.000-07:00

So, the other night, Floyd and I were watching "The Golden Girls." Yes, "The Golden Girls." I was a fan of it when it was first on the air, and still love it twenty years later. I can only hope I can emulate Dorothy's sarcastic wit thirty years from now, and be able to deliver Sophia's smartass one-liners fifty years from now.

Anyway, we were watching the first of a two part episode called "Sophia's Wedding," in which Sophia marries her beloved deceased husband Sal's old business partner, Max, whom she hadn't seen in forty years. The side story is Rose and Blanche's Elvis unauthorized fan club, in which they promptly kick Dorothy out of after the first meeting, due to her "offending" all the other members because of her sarcastic wit I'm such a fan of. Rose and Blanche decide to get an Elvis impersonator, in order to spice up the next meeting. Somehow, with Sophia's rapidly approaching nuptials (was a "shotgun" wedding necessary? was there a "bun in the oven"??) and the search for an Elvis impersonator, Rose mixes up the invitations (what a shocker!) , and when it comes time for the wedding, they realize there are atleast twenty Elvises (or is it "Elvii" for the plural form??) in the living room, waiting to witness the union of two octogenarians in holy matrimony.

They all begin to break out into typical Elvis gyrations, and in the back row, Floyd points out one of the "skinny" Elvises and jokingly says, "Heh, heh. There's Quentin Tarantino in the back." Sure enough, it was him. We looked at the credits to make sure. Oh, that crazy Quentin. I guess we all have to start somewhere, even big time directors. I wonder if he still stays in touch with the girls. Maybe they meet once a month for brunch...

On a side note, today is my sweet Chloe's 18 month birthday. Happy year and a half birthday, Chloe Grace!! :o)

Chloe: the Feng Shui expert!

2008-05-09T11:49:00.000-07:00

My kid cracks me up. Here I am, checking out forums on the computer with "Spongebob Squarepants" (Chloe's absolute favorite) on the t.v. across the room and what is Chloe doing? She's been behind me for 10 or 15 minutes rearranging the DVD's on the media center. We had DVD's arranged like books on a bookshelf, so the spines are showing. Evidently, the flow of the room is ALL wrong according to Chloe.

When I turn around to see why she's being quiet (always a red flag, if you ask me), she has rearranged about 20 or so DVD's so the cover is front and center. Some DVD's have fallen to the floor, such as "Sixteen Candles", "Blazing Saddles", "Scarface", "Bad Santa" and "Rear Window." What my creative sixteen month old has stacked with the covers on display are such classics as "40 Year Old Virgin", "Apollo 13", "Cool Hand Luke", "The Marx Bros: A Day at the Races", "It's a Wonderful Life". Funnily enough, some movies that she hid behind these film gems are "Stripes", "Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo" and "Making the Grade". I guess she's not really big on silly 80's movies yet. Oh well.

Oh crap, she just ran off into the living room with the "Borat" DVD!...maybe she does have an appreciation for low brow humor after all! ;O)

Nails on a chalkboard

2008-05-06T09:48:00.000-07:00

So, the other day, I went through the drive thru of Dairy Queen while my daughter was napping in her carseat when I had a "nails on the chalkboard" moment. (Strangely, when someone slides their nails down a chalkboard, it doesn't bother me. Anyhoo..)

What made me shudder was when I heard the lady in front of me ordering a hot fudge sundae, and she pronounced it "sun-duh". Grrrrr.. I'm shuddering now just thinking of it. I don't know why...perhaps I was a strict English teacher in a former life, but whenever people pronounce certain words differently than how I think they should be pronounced, I shudder in disgust. Call me an English language elitist. I can't help it.

So here are some other words that I find that people commonly mispronounce (especially in the lovely Midwestern area that I live in):

-Wash- When I hear people pronounce it "warsh", I wanna strangle them.

-Creek- I don't care if you grew up with one in your backyard; it's not "crick", it's "creek"...just as it is spelled.

-Missouri-Once again, it's pronounced just as it is spelled, and since there is no "a" at the end, do not pronounce it "Missourah", or I will strangle you.

-Illinois- Here's a tricky one. It looks like it should be pronounced "Illi-noise", because there is an "s" on the end, so you would think you would say it that way, right? No. That sounds stupid. The "s" is silent. Don't make me strangle you.

Well, I know there are several other words that are constantly mispronounced, but I can't think of them right now. These are just the top of my list. The funny thing is that I knew my husband pronounces "wash" as "warsh", which is #1 on my list, before I married him. When he first said "warsh" or "Warshington", I thought "oh no." But as the years go by, the sound of the nails on the chalkboard is getting softer and softer. I guess true love does conquer all. Although, he does want us to move to the capital of the USA...you guessed it folks..good ol' WaRshington, D.C.
Sigh.

I'm rantin' like Rixblix!!!

2008-04-16T08:56:00.000-07:00

(Note: This post may be laden with vulgarity and profanity. I usually try to keep the cussing down to a minimum while on the blogosphere. But right now, I don't fucking care.)

Allow me to begin by saying I'm not a huge fan of today's rap. Sure, I enjoy those crazy Beastie Boys every now and then or listening to Floyd as he raps along to his old school NWA or his silly Wu Tang. Even seeing ol' Rosie from "The Wedding Singer" perform Sugarhill's Gang classic song towards the end of the movie is delightful. But other than that, I'm not really big into rap. Yet I listen to it religiously EVERY morning. You may ask, 'Why is that, Jenny???" And I'll tell you why. I hear it every fucking morning because of that stupid inconsiderate prick who lives across the hall from me.

Some people are morning people. They love waking to the sounds of birds chirping or those farm dwellers are roused by the rooster early in the morning. Most people are jarred awake by their alarm clock. And what I wish this dumbass would realize is that he is not the only person living in this building. Some people work second and third shift and sleep in the morning or even through the late afternoon. (Yes, you bastard, some people ACTUALLY work for a living!!)

Many nights, I don't get home from work before midnight. I am a second shift worker unfortunately, and my hubby is a first shift worker--that way, we don't have to stick Chloe in daycare. Anyhoo, I try to get to bed by 2 am at the latest. It usually takes me a little bit to fall asleep, what with Floyd's happy snoring. He wakes me up when he leaves so I can kiss him goodbye, then I go back to sleep. Then, like clockwork, begins the free daily show from my lovely, inconsiderate piece of shit neighbor blaring his crappy music. The sound seems like he is physically in my bathroom across the hall from bedroom. So I go close the bathroom door as well as the bedroom door, crawl back under the covers, with my pillow over my head, and pray that the sound will be muffled this time, even though the past few month's efforts of the exact daily routine have proven futile. And again, I am wrong. (Oh, why does God hate me?) Underneath my covers and pillow, I can clearly hear every word emanating from ACROSS the hall. Yes, I, Just Jenny, the queen of, "Huh? Whadyu say?" could understand every word. Okay, friends, THAT is when you know your music is too fucking loud. Oh, then it gets better...

Just when I thought my daily dose of my morning hell couldn't get any worse, the stupid bastard raps along... poorly and off key. I'm sorry..I'm not going to say.."OOH!! Easy-E, ODB, Biggie?!?! Is that you??!!" NO. Because your asses are dead. I wanna say, "Dude, I know you are not DMX, so stop rapping along. And I don't care if "it's hard out here for a pimp", because you sure ain't Terrance Howard either!" AAaaRRRRrRRgggGGhh!!!!

So, kids, what is the lesson of the day? Well, today's lesson is if you live in a house, then feel free to listen to any loud shitty music you want and scream at the top of your lungs like you are the King of Karaoke. However, if you live in an apartment complex or condo, and you are not the lone tenant, you need to show some consideration for your fellow neighbors and turn the music down a bit. It doesn't matter if "these go to eleven"..don't go past ten on your speakers. Because if you do, that sweet lady across the hall is gonna show you her hospitality by sticking a big fucking pineapple up your ass sideways. Thank you and have a nice day.

Six days and counting...

2008-03-12T10:00:00.000-07:00

Well, in six days I will have reached another milestone in my life. No, I haven't beaten cancer (or found a cure for it either), nor am I flying in a shuttle to outer space (dang it!). On March 18th, I will be turning the big 3-0. I assume it's somewhat obligatory to make a list of all the things you love about your life and the things you feel you're lacking..things you feel you should have accomplished when you hit 30. I don't think I'm going to do that. I honestly feel that although my life may not be what I thought it would be when I was 20, I feel I can't really complain. I suppose I wouldn't mind having a newer car--I dunno..I guess driving a 1993 Honda Accord with 183, 600+ miles on it and a big dent and rust eating away on your fender isn't really sexy. But, then again, it runs (more often than not), so then I feel lucky to have it.

My family is lovely. My dad and stepmom, my mother, my brother and sister-in-law are all wonderful. (I must say that the fact my mother has not been on speaking terms with my brother for four months breaks my heart a little more each day, but I try not to think about it too much. I try to keep the faith that one day she'll come around...) And as far as in-laws go, I couldn't have hand picked better parents-in-law if I tried. :o)

I feel that I'm blessed to have my husband Floyd in my life. I knew there was something special about him the moment we locked eyes with each other. Yes, we had a "moment" when we met. That mushy, unreal, love-at-first sight, only-in-Hollywood moment where our eyes met and in that instant, I felt my heart skip. Since then, I knew he was the one for me. As I got to know him, not only did I realize that he's funny and smart as hell, but he always--well, he just makes me feel good. Simple as that. And when we had Chloe, holy crap. Everything changed. My love for him tripled. He is flawlessly amazing at being her daddy. She is the light of our lives and we truly can't remember a time without her. From her enormous blue eyes with insanely long eyelashes, to her loud, hilarious laughter, to how sweetly peaceful she is when she slumbers, Chloe makes our happy family complete.

So when I think about my family..my parents and in-laws, brother and sister-in-law, and the loves of my life, Floyd and Chloe, I find it silly to think about making that obligatory "Dammit, I'm turning thirty!" list. Do I have regrets or things I would've liked to have done by the time I turn thirty years old?? Sure. But with those people in my life, I couldn't care less if I haven't climbed Mount Everest or gone scuba diving in the Great Barrier Reef. Besides, I have to have some items for my "Dammit, I'm turning forty!" list in ten years... :o)

My daughter looks like Fred Sanford

2008-03-06T13:16:00.000-08:00

Lemme explain..I don't mean that my sweet little 14 month old resembles Red Foxx at all. But sometimes, when she's stumbling around with her hands behind her back and her stomach puffed out, Chloe reminds me of Fred Sanford. It cracks me up. I feel sometimes that at any given moment, she's going to clutch her hand over her chest and exclaim, "Oooohh! This is the big one!! You hear that, Elizabeth?? I'm coming home, honey!!"

Now that would be odd.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas..in March?!?!

2008-03-02T13:39:00.000-08:00

Yes..I am appalled at that title as well. Here it is..the start of a warm, beautifully sunny weekend. Spring fever is definitely taking over my mind and body. But what did I notice in the streets of Sunnyland and East Peoria last night after my husband and I dropped off Chloe for the night at Grandma and Grandpa's? Snowflakes and Christmas trees lining the streets on the lamp posts. Whaaaa?!?!?! There are still Christmas decorations hanging up?? In March?! Why? I mean I understand how East Peorians are a proud people, with Folepi and the magnificent floats and exciting lights that decorate the city during the holiday season. I know I always enjoy seeing a city so lit up, it would make Las Vegas blush, but jeezy creezy, man..spring is only a couple of weeks away. We're rapidly approaching our third holiday since Christmastime. I think it's time to move on. No wonder we're still getting snow every three days. Poor Mother Nature is confused when she sees holiday decorations still up.

Hmmm...perhaps it's finally time for me to put away my holiday floormat with the penguin holding candy canes...

Attention men: Leave your eyebrows alone!!!!

2008-01-17T21:05:00.000-08:00

I must admit..I do have a few pet peeves--approximately 1,638 pet peeves the last time I counted. It cracks me up because my hubby definitely knows my top ten list.

Floyd was telling me that the Cubs Caravan was today, which took place at the Riverplex. He told me that Ryne Sandberg was there, as well as Ted Lilly and Geovany Soto. Then he told me in a lowered, gossipy voice, "And Geovany Soto plucks his eyebrows!!!"

"WhaAAAaaatT?!?" I exclaimed. "Ugh, I hate that!"

I'm sorry. I just can't stand to see men with perfectly shaped womanly eyebrows. A guy could be drop dead gorgeous and I wouldn't have the foggiest idea, because I would be staring at those damned plucked eyebrows on his face.

Now, don't get me wrong..I'm not exactly advocating a unibrow either. Although, Bert from "Sesame Street" did say, "Never underestimate the power of the unibrow." I think if you men prefer having two eyebrows instead of one, that's alright. Just clean up the hairs that connect your eyebrows and maybe a couple of stray hairs underneath. I don't need men walking around with some crazy, perfectly arched Joan Crawford eyebrows yelling at me, "NO MORE WIRE HANGERS!!!" (I'm sorry to digress a bit..)

So, men, unless you're the 14th reincarnation of Menudo, please..for the love of God, put down the tweezers. Step away from the eyebrow wax. Show some respect for yourself and think about the children. You don't have to go overboard with your metrosexuality. I know it's hard to differentiate between simple grooming and looking absolutely effeminate...especially when there's famous athletes out there with overplucked brows also. (I'm talking to you, Rex Grossman, Pudge Rodriguez, and Michael Strahan!(to name a few) Most women just appreciate it when their guys shave occasionally and shower every once and a while. And when they give them flowers. :o)

Sometimes I wonder about myself

2007-12-18T10:36:00.000-08:00

I'm usually an averagely smart woman...I have a decent amount of common sense. I know to look both ways before crossing the street..I'm aware that if I'm on fire, I need to stop, drop, and roll. The other day I did something that made me shake my head in disbelief.

While looking in the kitchen for a snack for Floyd and myself, I noticed we had a can of crescent rolls and four hot dogs. Floyd suggested, "How 'bout making some pigs in a blanket?" I thought that sounded tasty, but never made them before. He told me it's easy--just slice the dogs in half, roll 'em in the crescent roll, and place the cookie sheet in the oven. Simple, right? Hahaha..not when you're Just Jenny.

I began slicing the hot dogs in half, like I was instructed, but as I was finishing slicing the fourth and final hot dog, I noticed that I had sliced them in half the long way, as if they were pickles from Steak 'n Shake. Don't ask me why. I never claimed to be Chef Kevin, but I thought I could at least pull off friggin' pigs in a blanket with ease.

Never one to be defeated, especially not by a bunch of cold, lifeless frankfurters, I said, "F**k it" and sliced them the correct way. I rolled them up, slid them into the oven, and before we knew it, we had some golden brown, deformed, greasy and slightly doughy on the inside pigs in a blanket in which to feast upon. Sigh...

If anyone needs to cater a party, Just Jenny is available...very available. Probably at a very low cost. :(

Christmas is only one month away...

2007-11-25T18:30:00.000-08:00

Damn. That's crazy.

All Quiet on the Western Front

2007-10-25T17:17:00.000-07:00

Aaaah, I love days off, especially since I hardly find any joy in my job, and there's nowhere else I'd rather be than with my family. I feel that a day off is a wonderful time to relax, enjoy some time to yourself, sleep in, perhaps gets some errands done and tidy up a little bit around the house, taking care of the clutter that accumulates throughout the week. Since Floyd is involved with the mock elections at WIU, which is taking place every Tuesday and Thursday night for the next couple of weeks, I get to stay home those days to watch Chloe. So here it is, 7:37 pm on a Thursday night, with the hubby at school and the kid FINALLY taking a long overdue nap, which is a plesant change from her crying jag from a half hour ago. The apartment is quiet, albeit the incessant buzzing coming from the computer. I realize I have time on my hands in which I can accomplish many things while I'm free. I begin to weigh my options..here are some possibilities:

~I could put away the baby's clean laundry which has been sitting in the basket since Sunday night
~ I could work on a couple of scrapbooking pages which I haven't done in probably a month
~ I could clean up the dirty dishes while there's only a few, instead of letting the stack grow higher and higher
~ I could stop being a lazy bum and hop into the shower and get out of the pj's I've been wearing since last night

I had all day to do this, and more. I always create these lofty goals for myself as my days off are approaching. 'I'm going to clean every room in the apartment top to bottom..I'm going to do twelve loads of laundry..' And honestly, what did I do today? Not a damn thing. Like I said, I'm still in my pj's. It so easy to squander time and be a lazy bum. But I'm not going to do that anymore. I'm going to get up and do something, while the night is still young and my place is still quiet. I'm gonna to pick up the living room. I'm going to go to the kitchen to tackle those dishes and...oooohh..I forgot we have turtle cheesecake. I think I'll have a quick slice and check out those magazines we got in the mail today. But after that, THEN I'll start cleaning...

I love October

2007-10-11T21:00:00.000-07:00

One of the main reasons I love to live in the Midwest (some days I wonder if it is the only reason) is the guaranteed change in seasons. The renewal of spring and the return of green grass and fragrant flowers, the seemingly endless daylight and the relaxing warmth of the summertime sun, as well as fall's colorful foliage and winter's snowy wonderlands. Even though I do appreciate the changes, there is one month that stands alone as my favorite: October.

I love the brisk autumn air and cold soggy rainy days. I love the rich vibrant red, orange and yellow leaves on the trees. I still enjoy Halloween, and every year I wonder, 'Hmm..what should I be this year?' as if I were a little kid. I love pumpkins, going to orchards, bonfires and hay rack rides. I look forward to taking Chloe to the park so she can crawl through the crispy fallen leaves as she experiences her first autumn ever. I love to see the leaves on the tree outside my church change to a lovely orangey-yellow, the exact orangey-yellow they were three years ago this month when Floyd and I took our wedding pictures under it. I don't know..I just get giddy every year when October begins. I feel it's a nice change after months of hot hot heat and it's a great time to throw on a blanket and get snuggly on the couch with someone. (Hopefully with someone you know..)

Songs that will always remind me of Chloe Grace

2007-09-13T12:32:00.000-07:00

I'm sure most people can agree that certain songs out there remind them of certain things, certain people, or certain situations. For instance, when I hear "I've Got You, Babe", I chuckle as I picture Bill Murray destroying his alarm clock over and over and over again in "Groundhog Day". I remember dancing to "Stairway to Heaven" with my high school sweetheart at our Vice Versa dance senior year, which is bizarre actually, because it was 1996, not 1976.

Anyway, there are songs I will always attribute to my daughter, Chloe. I will never forget being wheeled into the operating room after 4 am on December 30, 2006 to have a c-section. The room was cool and blindingly bright. My epidural made me VERY happy. As I was being operated on, Floyd looked fuzzy to my left (couldn't wear my contacts) and as I heard all the doctors talking to each other, I remember hearing Chicago's "If You Leave Me Now" floating around the room. 'Cooooollll...' I thought to myself in my epidural-causing stupor. ' I loove Chiiicaaggo." Minutes later, the beginning of "When the Leevee Breaks" by Led Zepplin had taken over. 'Coooolll...' I thought to myself again. ' I loooovve Leeedd Zeppppliiin..' ( I really did feel high with that epidural. For a girl who had never gotten high or tried any drugs in her life before, I was feeeellliing gooood!)

So, in addition to those two songs that were playing in the operating room, here's a list of songs , in no particular order, that will always remind me of my sweet Chloe Grace:

Songs By Neil Young:

* "After the Gold Rush"

* "Long May You Run"

* "Tell Me Why"

* "Harvest Moon" (which coincidentally is Floyd and my song)

* "Only Love Can Break Your Heart"

Songs By U2:

* "Running to Stand Still"

* "Stay"

Songs By Bob Marley:

* "Is This Love?"

* "Kaya"

* *Actually..every song by him reminds me of Chloe..she was kicking and dancing to him while living in the womb. :o)

Another song that should be added to the list is a take on "Edelweiss" from "The Sound of Music". Floyd changed the word "Edelweiss" and put the words "Chloe Grace" in its place...so it's the "Chloe Grace" song now. Sorry, Julie Andrews.

These songs on the list are ones that we've listened to and that I've sang to Chloe over the past eight and a half months of her life in lieu of "traditional" lullabies or kiddie songs. Although she does enjoy hearing "Winnie the Pooh", and I love listening to Floyd struggle as he tries to remember the lyrics, it's those songs that got us through long, long, sleepless nights as we bopped along to Bob Marley's spirited cries for freedom or slowly swayed to Neil Young's distinct, somewhat nasally but emotional voice. It is those songs that I will always remember many decades from now, and those memories will simultaneously bring a tear to my eye and a smile to my face.

Just an observation....

2007-09-03T16:06:00.000-07:00

My stepmom Julie called my husband the other day to ask if she could enter Chloe in something called "The Cutest Baby" contest at the Walmart in Washington. Floyd said, "Sure..why not?" There were atleast a dozen or so contestants involved. Walmart took the picture that you submitted of your baby and placed it on a jar, and people could vote for who they believed is the cutest baby by placing money in the jar. The contest runs until September 9th, and whoever has the most money in their jar will win a basket full of baby goodies (i.e. bath wash, lotion, wipes, etc.) Also, every cent collected will go to the Children's Hospital . I think that is splendid. I love a good cause. When there are "baby contests" like that which are all in good fun and support something wonderful like the Children's Hospital, I'm all for it. When it comes to those creepy JonBenet type "beauty" contest for little girls...eh, not so much. Those make me a little queasy.

Anyway, we stopped by Walmart to surreptiously scope out the "competition" and throw a buck or two in her jar. I must say, Julie picked a great picture of Chloe to send in and her jar has a very prominent spot on the table. If you happen to take a stroll into the Washington Walmart, check out the baby table in the front of the store by the customer service department. If you want to vote for Chloe, her picture is easy to spot. She's the cute one. :o)

Floyd threw a couple of dollars into Chloe's jar, and we talked about spreading the wealth a bit among the others. When I searched in my wallet, I discovered I had no paper money; however there was an insane amount of change in there. So I placed a good amount in every other jar, especially those that seemed a little empty. After all, every one of those babies were adorable. Each jar had a red lid with a big circle cut out about the size of a half dollar for easy money insertion...all but one jar. The single lid that was different than the other red lids didn't have a half dollar sized slot; instead it was a thin straight slit about two inches long. Here's the thing that stood out, and as I stated in the title of this post, it's "just an observation": The jar with the small slit in its lid also had a picture of the only black baby entered in the contest.

Now, I don't want to accuse anyone of what COULD be seen as a blatant racist move. I'm not one to blow the whistle on things. I'm usually an easy going, somewhat quiet person. But for some reason, that image kind of stuck with me.

It was actually Floyd that pointed out that there was a lid with a different opening. After I inspected the others, I told him "It's also the only one that doesn't have a picture of a white baby." He replied, "Yeah....I noticed that, too."

I mean, let's look at the facts. Washington is a nice, small town with what seems to be a predominantly white population. But then again, maybe Walmart only had fifteen jars with the bigger openings and had a last second entry into the contest, so they found a different jar. I just really, really hope it was pure coincidence.

Please feel free to leave any comments on what it seems like in your eyes. Perhaps I'm just being silly. After all, I am an overly sensitive artist who sometimes observes the world differently. Lemme know your thoughts, and if possible, check out the Cutest Baby contest at Walmart. :)

Now all I need is a sweet pair of mom jeans to complete the soccer mom package. Woo-hoo!!!

2007-09-01T22:58:00.000-07:00

Hello. My name is Jenny and I'm a minivan owner. Wow..it feels so refreshing to admit that. Yep, it was hard for me to accept that we were in the market to buy a minivan, but I think I've come to terms with it now.

We've been talking for a few months about upgrading to a minivan to help accomodate our rapidly growing family. We presently have an 8 month old Chloe, and for some reason, she seems to be getting longer. Can't figure it out. So we knew we had to trade in the two door Monte Carlo that my husband's been in love with since day one. We arrived into town this weekend, dropped the baby off at Grandma and Grandpa's, and Floyd said, "Well, we're off to buy a minivan." I thought we were still "just looking". Sho 'nuff, he was right. We're now the proud owners of a Dodge Grand Caravan Sport. Ooh la la! How sexy!!

It's not too bad though. It contains all the amenities any soccer mom in the making could dream of, from the hooks in the back of the seats to hang your shopping bags to the DVD player to entertain your 2.5 kids. Floyd was upset to learn the DVD wasn't attached to the dashboard so he could watch movies as he drove. I honestly wanted to find a minivan that lacked the DVD option. *gasp* Yes, I know. What kind of crazy lunatic mom would say that?!?! I must confess, although I am only 29 1/2 years old, deep down inside of me is a crotchety 78 year old man with a gravelly voice who says, " Why do these young whipper-snappers need them there DVD players in the car? We never had that when we was kids. Hell, we never even HAD a car! And that's they way we liked it!!" But anyway..that's just my humble opinion.

So, all in all, it's been an exciting day, but it's going to take some getting used to. The last minivan I drove regularly was my mom's 1988 Ford Aerostar when I was learning how to drive. They sure have come a long way since then. :o)

Another post to ring in the new month!!

2007-09-01T22:54:00.000-07:00

One of my four regular readers informed me that y'all are anxiously waiting for a new post from me. So here it is. :0)

People are funny

2007-08-12T19:16:00.000-07:00

I was talking to one of my pharmicists the other day and she was telling me of a complaint we once had from an elderly woman in her 80's. The woman said she had received a phone call from our pharmacy to let her know she had a prescription ready, and she told my boss the woman on the phone was very rude to her. She complained, "I was trying to talk to her, and she wouldn't say anything to me! I said, 'Hello?? Hello?!' and the lady wouldn't answer me!! She was very rude to me!!"

Little did the sweet old lady know that it wasn't someone from our pharmacy calling her..it was our somewhat impersonal automated system.

I just had to laugh... not to make fun of senility or elderly confusion, but because that'll probably be me in 50 years. Also, being a "Simpsons" junkie since 1987 (when they were roughly drawn shorts on "The Tracey Ullman Show"), I can picture this happening to poor ol' Grandpa. (Abe Simpson is my hero!!)

Where is the love?...Part One

2007-07-24T20:32:00.000-07:00

I'm proud to say that I was born and raised in the Midwest. My parents taught me to always treat people with respect, be polite and use "please" and "thank you" when needed. Living by the Golden Rule became a no-brainer for me. It was second nature. The funny thing is that I always thought Midwesterners such as myself were famous for being kind and considerate people. I really don't understand people and the lack of courtesy they have for others nowadays. People rarely acknowledge each other as they pass on the streets, drudging along like zombies with their cell phones surgically attached to their heads.

Sadly, I must admit I work in a retail setting. (oh, the horror!) I spend the majority of my days behind a pharmacy counter. I get to see first-hand how people mistreat one another, and I'm not just talking about the trashy inbreds who wander in the store to scream and cuss you out because their Vicodin is not being covered on public aid (that's another post for another time). I'm also not necessarily discussing those rude people who refuse to get off the phone while I'm trying to assist them, because loudly asking their significant other on the line whether they want them to pick up skim milk or 1% milk is far more important than me trying to do my job. (That is for another post as well.) I don't know..I guess I just wish people were a little bit nicer, like they used to be.

Don't get me wrong...there are those rare gems out there who will smile as people pass by, those who will hold the door open for others, people who will look others in the eye as they speak to them. Those are the people who make me smile, the ones that make me proud to have brought a kid in this somewhat crappy, occasionally disheartening world.

Wow!! My first blog ever!!

2007-07-15T20:53:00.000-07:00

Well, this is exciting. As the title states, this is my first blog ever! I figured since my wonderful husband, Mr. Central Illinois Gourmand-o-Rama himself (I'm advertising your blog, babe!) as well as my friend Katie both have blogs--check out her Musings from a Morton Mom--I thought I'd give this a go. I told my husband Floyd that I've been thinking about starting this up, but I was afraid I would be too boring. (So I'd like to apologize in advance if my fear comes true!) Otherwise, I hope everyone enjoys an occasional look inside my mind and the silly random thoughts that swim around incessantly.