Thursday, November 17, 2011

Sugar is a dangerous weapon

To begin another one of these blog entries with reasons and excuses why I haven't written in months, would be boring. So for the sake of not only my sanity but the rest of my readers (which mainly consists of my poor mother and father, and one loyal friend) I will not enter into another tirade.
Instead I will focus on what I am doing. Which is nothing.
My dilemma you can see, is one hard to overcome.
Boredom is something often hard to shake, it seems, and I've found that the best cure to boredom is to voice it to everyone you know. Eventually any good natured person will grow so annoyed with your self pitying monologue, that they will personally remove all boredom from your life.
Like with sugar.
You know, most mothers are normal. They like shopping, talking about boys, and giggle over funny stories only girls giggle over. This seems to be the common "Mom" I encounter, so I often ask myself how I ended up with my Mom.
I've mentioned her in previous stories, but I think to fully understand my mother, I have to tell you a story that happened only a week ago, while we were waiting in the car outside of our local grocery store.
Mom and I weren't alone, the rest of my little siblings were all crammed in the car with us, making far too much noise for the claustrophobic interior to handle. We'd been arguing over something and it was about this time that I brought up my boredom with the week, my life, anything I could think of.
I was doing one of those annoying teen moves where I was adding a whine to my tone and saying, "I'm just SO bored. There's NOTHING to do. My life SUCKS." You know, stressing the words that you totally shouldn't stress in front of your parents.
I thought I'd hit a nerve and we could launch into a motivational conversation where my mother gave me all these great ideas about what I could do (Something, I might add, that has NEVER happened.) However, instead of remaining calm and collected, like most mothers do, mine picked up a magazine resting on the console and threw it at me, a nasty smirk on her face.
"Hey!" I cried, throwing up my arms to block the magazine. So instead she picked up a pencil and pelted me with that as I continued to cry out in alarm, "Hey! Stop!"
"Start the violins!" She retorted, laughing at my alarmed face.
I grabbed the leftover Burger King bag I'd been dying to throw at somebody and nailed her in the back of the head, right as she whirled around, armed with a napkin, which was frankly pretty pathetic since it just floated down in front of me and sank to the floor.
I laughed at her latest week attempt and geared up to toss one of my brother's Crocs at her, when out of nowhere I felt a shower of dust hit me like a hurricane and every muscle in my body froze.
She did NOT just go there.
Looking down I saw a thick film of pink powder covering me from head to toe, sparkling in the sunlight.
"MOTHER!" I shrieked, trying not to move too quickly and dump the remainder of the sugar into my shoes.
She turned around lazily and burst out laughing when she saw that, yes, the packet of sugar she had just thrown at me had indeed been OPEN.
Grumbling in pain as she stomped her feet in hysterics in the front seat, I brushed the dust onto the floorboard and tried not to smile.
Yeah......so my mother's not normal.
However, I've come to believe none of my family is. When you're a family with eight kids and you're homeschooled, well things aren't ever normal.
And the best part of living in a big household, is there's always every emotion going on. One person is crying, while the other is laughing. I'm mad, my mother's VERY happy. Having a family this huge is like the biggest contradiction.
It's also a know fact that accidents WILL happen. Like dumping a soda onto the brand new couch the minute it arrives or running into a wall with glass in your hands or slipping down the stairs because your dumb dogs left their stinking bone on them and you just happened to step on it.
Those things are just going to happen.
The key I believe, is to not try and prevent them, just develop stellar reflexes so you can look super ninja like when they happen. Though I have to admit, falling down the stairs today, I couldn't really look cool doing that.


I know this hasn't been the funniest of blog entries, but cut me a break, I've been out of it for awhile. I'm getting back into the rhythm now, especially since holidays are coming along and everything always goes wrong when it comes to the holidays. Like the time our thanksgiving turkey took till midnight to cook or when my parents forgot to get the groceries needed for our Christmas feast and had to run out right before the stores closed on Christmas Eve. Things are just always unexpected.
So EXPECT more blog entries from me.

And the quote for the entry definitely goes to my brother Paul, who I haven't actually mentioned that much.
We were driving home from church and I was remarking to my parents how my three little brothers wouldn't leave me alone anymore. Ever.
So I said, "I liked it more when my brothers hated me rather than loved me."
And of course Paul chimed in saying, "I still hate you Rachael!"
Thanks Pauly......thanks.

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