Antique Crazy, Mildly Amusing

Parking Gods vs Shopping Gods

Let it be known to all, the parking gods love me. If you’re going to the mall, you want me to go with you. I don’t even have to be driving to get a primo parking space. I can go to the Dallas Galleria on the day after Thanksgiving and get a front row parking spot in front of Macy’s. I can go to the State Fair of Texas and get a front row parking spot in the shade. I can even get a front row parking spot by the cart return any day of the…

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Mildly Amusing, Sometimes Tart, Use Your Words

Spelling Is Impotant

Anybody Googling for anything antique, usually end up here at Antique Mommy sooner or later — undoubtedly disappointed to find the only antique around here is me. Today, however, Mr. Google dispatched someone searching for antique coffee urine. There’s plenty of that around here of a morning. I just didn’t know there was a market for it.

Joy, Makes Me Sigh, Snips And Snails

In Good Hands

Saturday morning, we made the trip to the yonder reaches of the metroplex to see the tree house exhibit at the Dallas Arboretum.  Contrary to what you might think, the Dallas Arboretum is really spectacular, even at this miserable time of the year. If you’ve never been, you will probably be surprised. The tree house exhibit was interesting. Sean is obsessed with tree houses right now and we were expecting to see more Swiss Family Robinson style tree houses but what they featured were 13 abstract tree houses. Not what we expected, but we had a…

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Antique Friends, Faith, Makes Me Sigh

Last Weekend In July

It is from the shards of broken dreams that the mosaic of life is created. The last weekend in July was to be one of celebration. A young bride was to meet her groom at the altar, and before God, pledge to him her love, her body, her eternity. The plans had long been in the making. Caterers had been hired. Rings had been purchased. Gowns had been fitted. Pictures had been taken. Parties had been given. Gifts had been wrapped. Promises had been made. Dreams had been launched. A phone call can forever alter the…

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Sometimes Tart

It’s A Pretty Day! Now Get Off My Planet.

If I were crazy enough to go into Sean’s room at 3am and switch on the lights, in the stupor of sleep he would pull himself up by the crib rails like a drunk. Then squinting like Clint Eastwood and teetering in a desperate search for balance, he would rub his eyes and automatically say, “It a prit-ee day Mommy!” “It’s a pretty day Sean! It’s great to be alive!” Those are the first words spoken around here of a morning. From the time that we brought him home from the hospital, I would get him…

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Antique Crazy, Faith

Hello My Name Is Blank

I am the kind of person who gets half way through a novel and then goes to the last few pages to find out how it ends. I enjoy the story better knowing what to expect. Surprise endings stress me out. So, it should be no surprise to you that when I was pregnant with Sean, I wanted to know if I was carrying a boy or girl. At 16 weeks, the amnio results reported good news and bad news. The good news was that the baby appeared to be healthy. The bad news was that…

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Antique Childhood

When I Grow Up, I Want To Be A Gorilla And Drink Tea

When I was about six-years-old, my mom was the den mother of my two older brother’s Cub Scout troop. Looking back, I have to really hand it to my mom. For a woman with very few resources at her disposal, she did a lot with and for her kids. Since there was no place else to put me during troop meetings, I was kind of an unofficial cub and I just did whatever it was my older brothers were doing. And my over protective brothers loved having me around and patiently and proudly looked after me. …

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Before… And Ever After

Before you were conceived I wanted you. Before you were born I loved you. Before you were here an hour I would die for you. This is the miracle of life. ~ Maureen Hawkins

Antique Childhood

It Made Sense At The Time

Whenever I’ve talked about how that at St. Cabrini, where I attended Catholic grade school, our 4th grade class saved up to buy a pagan baby, I’ve gotten one of two responses. People who did not attend Catholic school in the 1960s will look at me in stunned silence as though I were from Mars. People who did attend Catholic school will nod their head knowingly and sigh at the utter absurdity of the notion. How does a fourth grader go about buying a pagan baby you might wonder? Well, we brought our scavenged pennies and…

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Parenting Gone Awry, Use Your Words

Brought To You By The Letter “N”

(Scene: Morning. House of Antique. Sean and the crazy lady.) Sean: (pulling a hand from behind his back) Mommy! My fingers are stee-eee. AM: (freaking out) Your fingers are stinky?! What did you touch?! Did you touch poo poo? Because poo poo is bad! Very! Bad! You never, and I mean NEVER EVER touch poo poo. Do you hear me? Come here right now, we need to Clorox scrub your hands. Sean looks at Antique Mommy and in an act of toddler defiance, grins wickedly and moves his spread out fingers towards his mouth. AM: Sean!…

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