Friday Farewell

Dear Readers, 

I'm sure you've noticed, but Karen and I haven't been blogging as much lately.  It seems that other things in life have taken over. Jobs that pay money tend to do that! After talking about it for some time, Karen and I have agreed that it's time for Macaroni and Chicken Fingers to be finished. (Sigh). It doesn't mean we won't ever blog again. I mean, Writers write, right? It just will be in a different format, at a different blog, in a different space. We'll let you know if that space is ever found. And you can STILL find our Caregiver Organizers at our website.: www.thecaregiverorganizer.com By the way- LAST CHANCE SALE!!! Last chance to get the first printed edition for only $7.95 plus shipping! (MSRP: $27.95 That a 70% savings!) 

We've enjoyed sharing our journey thus far with you. We wish you much happiness, love and peace. 

Yours, thankful for the journey,

Karen & Melissa

Monday Madness-Because I Can

I sat at the lake today, taking in the stillness, the serene moments between water skiers and kayakers.

Because I can. 

I ate bbq and laughed with my children.

Because I can.

I slept in, and my body still took two long overdue naps.

Because I can.

How, you may ask, am I able to say this?

Because someone who didn't know me, understood that they valued more what was behind them than they were afraid of what lie before them.

Thank you, to every single vet. To every family who sent them, supported them and welcomed them home and stood by them when they came back half the memory they were but twice the men and women that most of us never could be.

Thank you, especially to the WWII generation. Selflessness and hard work are your well worn badges of honor. 

May we ever honor you and may we never forget,

Celebrating and honoring this Memorial Day,
Melissa

Saturday Sass- WHEN is it MY turn? Anyone?

Growing up, we had one television. One. It was rather large, no remote. And programs came on at specific times. You know the drill. Being the third child of four, I pretty much had no claim to any form of preference of what to watch because I was fifth in line. MAYbe on my birthday, but that still was subject to The Head Honcho's  my father's preference for the evening news. And even though I could try to fight for control with my siblings, it was usually a lost battle. I was shorter and smaller. By the time I was able to be left on my own, I was too busy to watch TV.

Fast forward to present day. This morning, I wake up, come downstairs because I know the hooligans kids will be getting up soon and I would like to have a few minutes of peace and quiet. It's Memorial Day Weekend (Thank you, sincerely, to everyone who has served and laid down their lives for our country!) and so things are pretty relaxed (read: absolutely NO structure) in The B House. The Z Kids come down shortly after I do and begin laying around, watching TV and getting breakfast. 

Note 1: There are THREE (much to my chagrin, yes, I said chagrin) TVs in The B House. 

Note 2: The Z Kids have been banned from the TV in the master bedroom due to the jumping on the bed which always ensues. (And no, I cannot comment on the fact that there is a TV in the master bedroom. Another rant entirely. Trying to limit my rabbit trails here. Which is also another rant entirely. But I digress.)

So back to The Z Kids and TV. We're all on the main floor. Z1 decides he needs a little more destruction action than whichever the chosen cartoon may be and opts to blow things up on The Wii.  I'm enjoying my coffee in the kitchen. Z2 takes over the TV in the family room. After about 30 minutes, coffee has kicked in and I decide it is time for the news. Z2 had put in a movie.

Now, you must know, growing up, when my father walked into the room, if you were in "his seat" you got up immediately. If you were watching the TV, your program went by the wayside without question, comment or complaint. Period. Here was this morning's conversation:

Me, in a quiet, patient voice (yes, I actually have one of those and it comes through occasionally): Z2, I'd like to watch the news.

Z2: But I just started this movie and Zach is doing the Wii downstairs and blabbityblabbityblabbityblahblahblah (insert 10 more sentences to which I did try to listen but was unsuccessful).

Me: (still patient) Yes, I understand, but it is time for me to watch the news with my coffee. 

Z2: But I want to watch The Help and (insert 8 more sentences of ten year old     "But I want MY way!!!" debate.)

Me (less patient): Yes, I know, but I would like to watch the news and you have seen this movie twice and it can wait a little bit.

Z2: BUT (insert 12 more sentences of age ten debate. She'll make a good lawyer one day. No joke.)

Me (no patience, in the voice of Left Ear from "The Italian Job" when he says: I HAAAD a BAAAD Expier'ence.): IIIIII. am WATCHIIIIIING. The NEEEEEWS. 

Z2: (Roll eyes, sigh loudly, huff and mutter) Exits room.

It IS my house, right? I mean, I write the mortgage check every month. When's it my turn to hold the remote? Unequivocally?

Yours, enjoying my coffee and news before I go downstairs to sort The Z Kids out,

Melissa

I WON'T BE SHOPPING HERE...

Did you know that Abercrombie and Fitch's largest woman's size is 10? Apparently their CEO, Mike Jeffries, doesn't want "fat chicks" wearing his clothes. He only wants the "in crowd" to be seen in them. In fact, he says, "We want to market to cool, good-looking people. We don’t market to anyone other than that.” WOW!!! He will, however, sell XL and XXL sizes for men, but only to attract large, athletic types, not the fatties.

I have SO much to say on this topic, but I fear that I'd be at my computer all night, so I'm going to let Jeffries say it all himself. You MUST click on this link to be absolutely amazed: The 13 Most Ridiculous Things Mike Jeffries, CEO Of Abercrombie & Fitch, Has Said.

Have fun! Hope you are as outraged and amused and I was!

Karen

Monday Madness- A Month Already?

Hello there. May I introduce myself? My name is Melissa and my blog lives here. I know, it's a little dusty in here. That's what happens when one doesn't visit for a while. It's not that we've forgotten you, dear readers, it's just been such a busy season and some things got put on hold for a little bit. Yes, hardly earth shattering news in the light of today's bombing in Boston. (Who DOES that kind of thing anyway? I just can't wrap my mind around what they hope to accomplish. I mean, I know whomever did this is angry, but aren't we all? But I digress...)

So if you're new here, welcome to Macaroni and Chicken Fingers. Karen will be on vacation (Yes- that phrase enters her vocabulary MUCH more often than mine these days, but I'm not bitter. ;) ... away at her annual Sisters Trip somewhere in Mexico. So don't expect to see her here this week. But she does still exist. Truly. Hang around long enough and you'll get to meet our kids and sometimes The Hubs pops in. 

Today's madness? I spent an hour and a half in my car in traffic trying to get to my class on time in traffic and heavy rain. It never happened. And from the looks of what my students left for me in my mailbox? Half of them didn't make it through the traffic either. And of course those Monday meetings and book keeping and emails and such. 

But you know what? I'm gainfully employed doing something I love. I have healthy children and a loyal spouse who adores me. Looking at the news on Boston, I'm a pretty lucky girl. 

See you back here by Friday (maybe even Wednesday if Karen has not blogged ahead of time!). I'm sure I'll have something funny to tell you by then.

Yours, counting my lucky stars, 

Melissa

Monday Madness- Realationships

Realationships.

Yep. I know there's a typo in there. 

It's curious to me. I've always been a pretty good speller. I have a deep love for words and their meanings and and how they morph from the root to other words. I pride myself on spelling. 

What strikes me as odd is that I've repeated that typo at least three times in the last 48 hours. Is my subconscious trying to tell me something?  I mean, I KNOW  how to spell the word re-la-tion-ships. But when I noticed what I kept doing repeatedly, I paused. 

One thing I really love about Karen is if she is your friend, she is your real friend.  There's no covering things and you always know where you stand and you don't have to guess how she feels about something. She just tells you. Graciously. (Well, mostly graciously. Unless we are in The Pool of Truth. Then all bets are off.) But...What if all my re-lationships got real? What if they really were REAL-ationships? Then where would we be? What if we were friends with people, not for what they could do for us, not for company politics or ladder climbing or buddying up to me to sell me something, but friends because we were better people for having known each other? What if we had REALationships because we made each other think and just got along and knew how to laugh together? 

What if we just got REAL?

Yours, considering what makes a friendship a REALationship,

Melissa

Monday Madness-Because It's Monday

Do you have an idea how much I enjoyed Karen's last post? I'm finally getting some respect around here. ;) 

It IS hard to be a working woman with a husband and kids. In my case, I have two part time jobs which equal to more than one full time job. And I'm married. With two children. Sometimes I'm caught up on laundry. Most often I'm not. Grocery shopping kills me. To be perfectly honest, after a long day of working with people, the last thing I want is to go to the store and be around more people. Lately, I've found myself just wanting to come home (my sweet, sweet haven) and be in complete quiet. Well, with the occasional guilty pleasure of Real Housewives or Shahs of Sunset. Talk about perspective! I mean, seriously, have you ever watched them? Farthest thing from reality, ever. But I digress...

But Vanderpump Rules? Wow. Just, wow. The victimization and drama. And the way the others will chase after one particular person. What kind of power does one person have over the rest of the other people? How do people do that? 

Sometimes I wish I knew. But then again, I really don't. I'm just not built that way. And I'm okay with that. 

Yours, toddling off to bed now,

Melissa