Thoughts of Home

My sister is coming tomorrow for Thanksgiving. It is impossible to overstate how excited I am about this. Growing up, Thanksgiving consisted of mom making the house smell good with the baking of her fabulous rolls and then bundling up into the car to truck on over to my grandparents' house. A few hours later, with full bellies and visiting done, we would trundle back home to the aroma of rolls still lingering in the air for an evening of movie watching, visiting, etc. This year, I am far from home and will not be part of the crew to visit Grandma and Grandpa's house. In fact, none of my siblings are making it home for Thanksgiving this year.
It is an odd thing to realize that my parents have been promoted to positions of primarily grandparenthood versus parenthood. I fully recognize they are still my parents, and for me, they very much still function in that role. However, when we all come home, they are more "Grandma" and "Grandpa" than Mom and Dad--you know, because of the kids. While I realize this is not earth-shattering news to anyone else, it is hard to think of my parents--my youthful, energetic, busy parents--as playing the role MY grandparents played for me when I was young. Grandparents are old. Grandparents have lots of doctors visits. Grandparents fall asleep every night during the evening news (not late night news. My mother has been falling asleep during the late night news for years...that doesn't count). Grandparents wake up every morning at dawn and eat mush. Grandparents "decorate" for Christmas by switching on the fiberoptic Christmas village that has been on display all year long...for the last 4 years.
The fact that my parents meet the grandparent qualification for 3/5 of the aforementioned characteristics (I'll not be disclosing which three...) reinforces my urgency to declare that I shall not allow it. Mom and Dad. I've had enough of this aging business. I'm not ready yet.

5 Words

5 words I frequently use
Fantastic
Eh
Absolutely
Hunkydory
Chugging
5 words that feel good rollin’ off my tongue
Twitterpate
Calliope
Swashbuckling
Kafluffle
Hebetudinous
5 words I dislike
Roomie
Panties
Weepy
Hottie
Pithy
5 made-up words I love and use. Frequently.
Therapize
Fantabulous
Ginormous
Verbage
Stupidosity
5 words from my childhood
Noseyuk
Dodo
Pooperscooper
Ruffle
Bucolic
5 frequently mispronounced words that make my speech therapist heart cringe
Fustrated (or Flustrated)
Libary
Valentime’s
Punkin
Fith (or Twelth)
(Ugh. Makes me cringe to even type them. Proper enunciation is a beautiful thing, people. Embrace it.)

Ah yes, I LOVE words.

High Achiever

Nearly three years ago, I learned of a New Year’s Resolution I was sure I could keep. A friend of mine did it and I was inspired. Yes, inspired. On January 1, 2006 no matter the pain, hardship, or difficulty, I resolved to eat every Blizzard of the Month at Dairy Queen. There are many perks involved with forging on with this task, not the least of which involves the fact that I legitimately get to eat ice cream once a month. When I first set this resolution, I naively assumed it would be the easiest goal I had ever set to achieve. Who wouldn’t jump at the chance to be compelled, because she wrote down a goal, to consume Mint Oreo blizzards, Banana Cream Pie Blizzards, Cookies’N’Crème Blizzards, oh my! It was the perfect Goal.
Then disaster struck in February. In the form of the Chocolate Covered Cherry Blizzard. I could not do it. I was unwilling to waste my $1.85, knowing I would not even nibble at it. I greatly dislike canned or maraschino cherries and the thought of a chocolate covered cherry cordial passing over my lips, in any form—yes even smothered in ice cream—was unthinkable. And so, for the next 2 years, I was thwarted in my resolution because of that cursed Dairy Queen selection every February.
Until this year. February came, and I anxiously approached the driveup menu to see if I was doomed to fail in my resolution for another year. Behold! February’s blizzard of the month was Chocolate Covered Strawberry! Wow, they gave that fruit the boot and replaced it with strawberries! I partook and it was—delicious! Of course. Because it wasn’t a sickly sweet ball of mush slimily oozing down my throat.
I made it past February and on to the bigger and better months of:
March (Kit Kat Blizzard-not my favorite),
April (Tin Roof Sundae-yum),
May (Cheese’quake’ [get it? That Dairy Queen. She’s pretty clever.]),
June (Cotton Candy—yeah, not my favorite),
July (Girl Scout Thin Mint—omigoodness. Amazing.),
August (Oreo—an oldie, but a goody),
September (Banana Cream Pie-eh.), and
October (Pumpkin Pie-yuh-hum.)
So here we are. It’s November. I just checked the Blizzard of the Month and November’s flavor is Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. Yessssss! This will work. I think my time has come. I only have one month left. Please let it not be eggnog.