The Real Reason ‘The Judge’ is unrealistic.

10 Nov

Yesterday Ralph and I went to see The Judge.  So good.  So, so good.

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Photo courtesy of Warner Brothers

That said, one thing that started running through my mind this morning was how unrealistic the movie was.  Not things that you would normally think of (the STAR attorney son of a judge that didn’t speak to his father or come home to his beloved mother, etc) I can get behind those for dramatic effect.

But the house.

Not the spectacular house in supposed Highland Park.  The house that is in the detested (and loved by many) Carlinville, Indiana.

Throughout the entire movie, we see the beautiful home where Hank grew up and Robert Duvall lived for years.  The home that was kept by the housewife mother who could have in no way paid for Robert Downey Jr.’s education.  The movie begins with her passing.

JUDGE, THE
Photo Courtesy of Warner Brothers

There were no housekeepers or doting daughter in laws helping to maintain this home.  And yet despite the stress of a major trial and emotional distress the home remains clean, put away and maintained throughout.

Come on.

I am by no means a housewife.  However, I am anal beyond belief when it comes to a well kept home.  And do you know why my home stays this way?  Because of me.

1. My family semi fears me and knows they had better put their stuff away.

2. The remaining crud (a lot of crud) is put away by me twice a day.

3. I then wipe down, sweep, run a quick dust cloth, etc.  Twice.  A. Day.

Do you know who does not do this?  Anyone else in my home.  Do you know what would happen if I died?  (I know because I travel on business and come home) it would be a wreck in a matter of hours.  Hours.  Much less days on end of extreme stress.

Go see the movie.  It is good.  Very well acted, an emotional story line.  Very pretty (who knew you should want to go to Indiana!?).  Just remember, Hollywood gives us completely unrealistic expectations.

Crying Contests.

24 Feb

My parents were here this weekend. Mainly for the Monster Jam, which was lots of fun. Gia and Luke always have difficulty during the good bye process.

Gia this weekend- selfies abound!

Gia this weekend- selfies abound!

I would like to note that Mimi does not like to have her photo taken- and deleted the one picture I had of her from this weekend. Thus why she does not have a photograph here today.

Monster Jam this weekend- I was the only girl who stayed for the festivities.

Gia frequently informs me that it doesn’t upset me that she is upset when she cries as Mimi and Popa depart- which is true. I remember the many tears shed driving away from the house on Sardonyx or watching the brown Oldsmobile as it drove down Huffmiester as a child.

Yesterday, the feeling for my kids was no different. After mass and brunch, Mimi and Popa came back to our home and gathered all of their things. After a bit of outside play it was time for them to leave.

Crying ensued by both.

It continued while…..

Waving good bye.

Standing in the driveway.

Walking in the house.

Up to the room to lay down for a rest.

Laying down.

Reading books.

Cuggling.

After what I assume was an eternity (but in all reality was more like fifteen to twenty minutes) I finally told Luke (shockingly, Gia ended the dramatics before this) he had to stop crying.

On a dime, he stopped.

Took a breath.

And said, “Gia?”

Gia answered, “Yes?”

“I cried longer than you.”

Yep. Crying contests. Apparently it is the new way to show your love.

Pushers and Poles.

12 Feb

Olympic Skiing Commentary

Watching skiing tonight Luke says to Ralph, “Daddy can I borrow your skis and your pushers- I need some pushers.” You know, pusher is a perfectly acceptable synonym for poles.

Weekends. I’ve been doing them wrong.

9 Dec

The past four days have been #Icemageddon here in Texas. Wednesday night, I went to see JT with friends (YAY!) when we entered the American Airlines center it was 70+ degrees. When we left, it was in the 40′s and dropped ten degrees on the twenty mile trip home.

Then the rain started.

And the 32 degree mark was reached.

And it didn’t rise. Yesterday afternoon it got up to a balmy 36 degrees and melting ensued. Which made it way worse for this morning.

Texas does not have the infrastructure for this kind of weather. There is one de- icer at DFW. We Texans kind of freak out and stock up on bread? Not sure why, but we do.

Thursday night, school was canceled. We didn’t leave the house until 12:45 on Saturday afternoon for Jenna’s cookie party and mass. We returned home around 7p and haven’t left since.

I have seen numerous Facebook posts about cabin fever. People freaking out by not going anywhere. And I am just not in that camp.

All I can think is how I have been doing the rejuvenating thing all wrong. Stock up on food. Improvise. Watch TV. Cuggle. Play games. Drink warm things. Don’t go anywhere. Don’t turn on the computer. Seriously. I haven’t felt this clear headed in years.

Ralph and I both work from home but we so rarely take advantage of that luxury.  I need a few more complete stay home weekends.

To my sweet girl- you are Seven.

18 Nov

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G,
I can’t believe you are seven. And I am well aware that I say this every year. I remember the day that you were born like it was yesterday. You were here. My heart grew that day. And it grows each day that I am blessed to be on this earth with you.
Like many things in life I planned certain pieces to the tee (which typically don’t go that way) and I just went with most of it. So I really have no room for frustration when you live your life in the same capacity.
Each day you are evolving. First grade is treating you well with all the scholastic elements coming together into the wealth of knowledge that you possess (Mom, I just used my schema….um ok.). Structured learning is something you are very good at, but you excel in areas that have no grade and can’t be put into a box for grading. Just the other day, I got an email (in response to a logistical question for room parent stuff) from your counselor:
Hi Mrs. Talamantez,

I have seen you coming and going in the office but have not had a chance to just say Hi and tell you how much we love Gia!
She is a doll. I love going to her class for guidance or to drop stuff off, or say hi to the kiddos…. Gia always has something fun to share 

You are one blessed Momma!

Have a great weekend,

And this is not a one case incident. You have teachers that follow your life, invite you to their children’s events, come visit you in far away places. You have doctors that focus on tummies and visit after ear surgery. You have camp counselors that ask about you.

You are magical.

You are captivating.

You are overwhelmingly awesome.

And I get to see every step. The ups and the downs. That tongue and heart that bring so much joy to the world can be equally as sharp and pointed at times. We are working together to hone this skill and be the best people we can be.

How many seven year olds are that self-aware? Not many.

I am so proud to be your mother. I am so proud when you come home to tell me that one little girl (that you so wish would be your friend) said something mean to another little girl (who is one of your genuine friends) and you just had to tell the mean girl that it is not appropriate to make others feel bad about themselves because we all have good and bad.

I am proud. I am blessed. I am the one that got the best gift.

From the moment I found out about you I had no idea why I was handed you. And I still don’t. Every day I know I am experiencing greatness unfold. From the moments that make me cry tears of joy to the moments that make me scream in frustration you are a force.

A force that will change the world. Thank you Gia. Thank you for taking me on the ride. And loving me for all of my good and all of my bad.

I can’t wait to see who you become. I know from experience that every day you somehow become more spectacular.

Happy birthday my sweet girl. Happy Birthday.

Love, Mommy

Different.

7 Nov

Appreciating the differences in your kids

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that Luke and Gia are different. Much like Ralph and I are different, or Eddie and I are different, or any two people on this earth are different.

Different on the exterior: the way we look, talk, act, but more so in the way we think, feel and from a scientific level the neurons fire between our brain cells. We are not the same.

Luke loves to take things with him to school. And he is all boy. So, everything is a monster truck, airplane, motorcycle, whatever thing I could care less about but now have grown semi obsessed with because of the deep, consuming love that I have for my son. (My love affair with sparkles and make up has long been cultivated and it wasn’t necessary to grow with Gia’s. But my love for her is overwhelming too.)

This morning in the car he had a push airplane toy with a man inside.

He wanted to name said man.

My first reaction was YAY! What is he going to come up with? Gia and I have created some fabulous names over the years-

Sofia Stocking, Cromley the Crab, Fiona Glitter Sparkles Princess, the list goes on.

A tiny voice (that sounds exactly like his sisters did at that age), “Airplane man- no wait! Airplane Man Luke.”

Direct. To the point. Descriptive. And perfect from his mouth. So logical that I truly don’t understand it. But I love it. Just the same as I love Stainless Barbie Pinky Perfect.

They are so different, but the fill my cup the same- to a state of overflow.

I love different. On every level. From precise and analytic to over the top and ridiculous. Different is what makes the world go round and I appreciate seeing it so clearly each and every day.

Luke decides he really likes to dance.

10 Oct

Gia LOVED all things Sesame Street. We have not really had a lot of Elmo with Luke. Mainly because Gia is way to cool for that nonsense. We still have the dancing Elmo. Kate had it- and loved it.

Gia had it and loved it.

And just a few days ago, Luke brought him downstairs to dance.

I love how you can tell from these two videos just how alike and different these two best buds are.

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