Friday, May 11, 2012

Mother's Day

Is it already Mother's Day again?  Oh wait.  EVERYDAY is Mother's Day.  Last time I checked, I've been one for almost 11 years now.  Almost 12 if you count the time it took to make her..........but alas.  I digress.  I do that alot.  Digress.  It's kinda like eating for me.  I do it on a daily basis.  Or maybe it just makes me THINK of eating.  You know.  Since it's close to digest.  Oh God.  Somebody make it stop.  OH YEAH!  Mother's Day! 

So this blog is dedicated to my mother, Susan Jana Simmons Davis who graced this world with her "other-worldy" presence on June 20 of a certain year which will remain untyped on this here page because it's just uncouth to tell a woman's age.  Especially your mother's.  Something I am still trying to teach my bitties.  She is the eldest (and presumably the smartest.......isn't that how it goes?) of three children born to Larry and Joyce Simmons in the greater Dallas area.  Ok, that's all the demographics I'll do.........just in case there are any of those aforementioned "creepy internet stalkers" who happen to read my blog.  Weirdos. 

I grew up thinking my mom was the BEES KNEES.  I idolized everything about her.  Right down to her long hair that she let me learn how to French braid on.  She even made up her own language.  And everyone had their own nickname.  Here's the breakdown.  Please have tissues or some Depends(insert tiny trademark "R" thingy here so as not to get sued for copyright infringement in our increasingly litigous world.  there i go.  digesting.  or digressing.  can't tell right now.  i'm really hungry) ready in case you cry or crap from laughter.

Dustin:  'Dustin-pooter' or 'DK'.  I know I know.  Not too terribly funny, but it was cute nonetheless. My mom was still in the novice stages of nicknaming.  It takes some diligence and dedication to the practice (as does blogging.....can't you tell???) to fine tune those skills.

Stephanie:  'Stephaneebins'.  Now, as of yet, I do not know the origins of this.  But as you can see from the web address of my blog, it has followed me through the years and is near and dear to my heart if not for the simple reason that it is the moniker bestowed on me by my mummy dearest.

Joy:  'Joy Beans' or 'Joyful'.  Joy's nickname has also been beside her like a faithful friend for many years.  I'm not sure if the bean reference is of an odiferous nature........or if she was like a "Mexican jumping bean."  Either way, it's fun to say.  And even FUNNER to know her.  She's all the things I am not and hope to one day be.  Graceful, forgiving, faithful, tall(er), creative, singer, poet, crafty, funny(er), spontaneous, etc.  The list is endless.

Ben: 'Benny Man Jobba' or 'Jobba Lobba Dingdong Head' or 'Ben Jobba Lee Robba' or 'Ben Jobba' if you are into the whole brevity (oxymoron?) thing.  Also, that was a "Big Lebowski" reference for those of you Cohen Brothers lovers. Think what you will, but it's pretty much the most bad-assest of the nicknames. I really can't help but think there might be some unconcious Star Wars Mania here.  Being that Benny was born in December of 84 and the Star Wars fever had not yet subsided since the release of "Return of the Jedi" in 83. (okay okay.  i admit i had to wiki search that last part since i didn't know if the last one came out the year he was born or not.  but hey.  at least i'm honest about my ignorance.  gotta placate the star wars nerds).  There I go...digest....er...digressing again.  Anyhoooooooooooooo.....my mom used to sing, "Ben Ben Jobba is a Lee Lee Robba!!!!!".  I don't care if someone just stole your My Little Pony (again....insert trademark thingy) on Christmas morning, it's stinkin' funny and will make you forget that you strongly dislike your sister for AT LEAST ten seconds.  You may then resume whining that your sister took your toy.  A side note here..........I dropped Ben on his head as a baby.  So if you are ever wondering why he streaked across a football field painted red wearing a blonde wig and basketball shorts....

Blame me.

Jared:  'Bubskinny' or 'Bubscooter'.  All you have to do is LOOK at Jared to understand just why my mother called him this.  Although, if you look at baby pictures, you may be a bit confused seeing that Jared was probably the chunkiest baby of all the kids. The 'scooter' part comes from before he could walk and basically scooted everywhere on his butt instead of crawling.  Lazy?  Or sheer genius?  You decide.  So "bubskinny" wasn't until later when he got......well.......skinny.  And bipedal.

Luke:  'Lukey-duke' or 'Lukeduke' or 'Tommy-Luke' or 'Blobbindoogey'.  No mystery here.  His first name is Thomas after my Dad's grandfather.  Or great-gf.  I can't member (how Asher says remember).  We used to sing songs about him too.  To the tune of some really old song.  But it involved how badly he stunk and needed a diaper change.  You're welcome if you are reading Luke.  I always aim to embarrass others so as to draw attention away from myself. 

Annie: 'Pinky-doodle' or 'Plickin'-Chickin'.  If you look at pics of Annie, she was really.......PINK. She had red hair and really pink skin as a baby.  I pretty much thought she was the cutest thing ever.  Until Sara came along of course.  Wow.....I will probably catch alot of shit for that one.  With regard to the 'plickin chickin' part, that was just years upon years of nicknaming by my mother.  She had fine-tuned those skills and they just were rolling off the tongue at this point.  Like word magic.  YEAH!  THAT'S IT!!!  My mom had turned into a bona-fide word magician!  Or she had just gone crazy.  We still aren't sure which.  I'll have to ask her when I go visit her in the institution this weekend.  She'll be able to give me some more insight.

Sara:  'Sara-Doodleishy' or Plickin'-Chickin'.  Again.  Magic tricks galore.  If you haven't ever been referred to as a 'doodleishy' (insert your name here for maximum effect), then you just haven't lived yet.  So give it a whirl.  It'll make you smile. 

Now, for your continued reading pleasure (or displeasure if you've made it this far), here are some other names for the general Davis population.  All are either terms of endearment, or in some cases, depending on the situation, (like when Jared and Luke set about 40 bales of hay on fire with fireworks), meant to invoke shame or feelings of goober-esque-ness.

1.  Bingots - generally referring to the two youngest girls.
2.  Noonillard - both this palabra (you likah my use of espanol here?  eh?) and the one below can be  used as mild perjoratives. 
3.  Nickaknobhead - one of my favorites.

Don't be jealous.  I know that right now you are really wishing that you had been part of the madness.  It happens to us all.  Family envy.  I'm pretty sure Freud came up with some asinine theory regarding this too. 

All joking aside (this is a toughy for me), my mother is also one of the Godliest women I know.  Always praying and interceding for her children.  Taking us to church on Sundays and then practicing what she preached to us during the week.  It took alot of years for me to really appreciate this.  Becoming a mother yourself gives you (me) this newfound appreciation and respect for being a parent.  And coming to the realization that you put your parental unit through some really tough times. But she handled it with such grace and poise.............and humor.  She is the QUEEN OF PUNS.  And the first rule of punning is, ALWAYS INTEND YOUR PUNS.  One of lifes greatest lessons that my mother taught me.  You can't just walk around punning and PRETEND like you were so unintentionally clever.  You have to OWN it my friend/reader.  It's like running with scissors or pointing a BB gun at someone.  There's a potential for injury here people!  Treat said puns with respect!  Or you'll put your eye out!  Alright alright.........enough browbeating........go have some pun with words.  (see what I did there???  huh?  huh?)

Something else that is a must know about my mother?  She will kick your ass at Wheel of Fortune.  Don't even try.  It's like Jedi mind trick status.  Let's take a trip down memory boulevard.  (just go with it.  "lane" is too mamby pamby for this story).  Enter Jana and Stephanie sitting in the living room circa 1989 watching WOF.  I thought my mom was the smartest person alive.  Ole Pat and Vanna are doing their thing.  Contestants trying to solve the puzzle and bankrupting themselves on that danged wheel thingy.  AND THEN BAM!  My mom solves the thing with just one letter on the board!!!!  True story people.  TRUE STORY.  I always envisioned her up there on that panel.  Kicking some proverbial brass (that's brain and ass together for those of you who don't follow my weird thought processes).  Chuck Norris ain't got nuthin' on my madre. 

I really could go on all day about her.  I thank God that He allowed me the privilege of calling her mother.  At 31, I still call her for advice on everything.  I value her perspective and wisdom.  Her love for her family is boundless.  Not fettered by unforgiveness or judgement.  She gives all of herself on a daily basis to those she loves.  If you haven't met Jana..........I hope you get to one day.  I met her on November 14, 1980 and she welcomed me with open arms into her heart where I have lived ever since.  I LOVE YOU MOM.  I'm one of your biggest fans. 

Love,

Your favorite eldest daughter.

Monday, May 7, 2012

My Maiden Voyage

Ahem..........here goes nothing. And literally..........it is possible it will be exactly that. A big fat NOTHING. As you can see, this post will most likely be rife with self-deprecation in an attempt to downplay the monster that is rearing its ugly head in the form of "insecurity". But I will try to keep it on the lighter side so as not to make my reader close the lid of their laptop in disgust at how self-loathing I am :/.
I have been floating the idea of starting my own blog for awhile. But my hestitation comes from the little voice in my head that asks the obvious question.........."Who wants to read your mindless musings Stephanie????". Well....fortunately, I have ANOTHER voice in my head that not-so-quickly retorts, "My family and friends and possibly a few strange internet creepers THANK YOU VERY MUCH!". So that's pretty much how that little exchange went in my head. So alas, my blog has been born. Conceived from a little place in my soul that wants to share part of me with you. Yes......YOU! It has become more and more apparent to me over the years that the "human experience" (i.e. acutally interacting with other humans) is crucial to our existence. And yet, as I get older, I buck the system more and more. Retreating further and further into my shell. I have yet to figure out if it's due to being around and morphing into my God-given life partner.........who happens to be much more of an introvert than I am. Possibly. Is it because I think it's self-serving to blog? Maybe. ORRRRRRRRRR.........am I depressed? NAH. That's just crazy talk. I honestly think that it's due to the fact that I'm just not as funny and cool as I once thought I was. But I canNOT let anyone else in on this life-altering revelation! So I retreat. Like a turtle into his shell. Protection. From the mean, cruel, judgemental world. There you go reader. I just laid it all out there on my virgin blog. Soul-baring/searching epiphany right there. It's enough to make my eyes bug out even as I read my own thought processes being brought to life on this here webosphereblogpagethingy. But I'm tired of holding it all in. PLUS...........I really really want to share some of the super super funny stuff that occurs in this daily thing called life. My kids are hilarious. Kevin says some pretty crazy shit. Oh yeah. That's another thing. I curse a bit. And I'm getting to the point where I don't really care if it comes out in conversation. Sometimes inflections and inntonations just don't cut it. Gotta put a little "dammit all to hell!" to drive the point home.
Now. I would like to talk a little about how the title of my blog came to be. When Fiona (my eldest child. almost 11. yeesh.) was little, she LOVED chocolate pudding cups. She used to say, "I wanna puhple" ('purple' for those of you who are not well-versed in Fiona-speak). She thought the brown looked like dark purple. Henceforth, pudding will be referred to as "puhple". Go ahead.
Try it. You know you wanna. In fact.....just go ahead and rename everything. It's like learning a new language. Except it's not real, and at least you didn't pay 500 bucks for Rosetta Stone so it could sit and adorn your bookshelf and gather dust because you have WAY TOO MANY other things to do like....say......being the matriarch of your family? But rest assured, people will look at you like you are retarded. So maybe just keep it between you and the fam mmmkay? (a little aside here. i didn't actually buy RS, but i know this would be the outcome, so i'm simply projecting my eventual actions on you. you're welcome). Soooooooo, puhple was used extensively as positive reinforcement in our house for a loooooooooong time. And I always thought that maybe, just maybe??, I would write an autobio about my life as a wife and mother (so I could be rich and famous because ANYONE WHO'S ANYBODY would want to read about me of course). And THAT would be the name of my book! You get puhple when you are good.......and "no pudding for you!" (in my best Seinfeld character guy 'no soup for you!!' voice) when you're bad. Wow. That was a ridiculously long explanation for a title. Oh well. Hope you enjoyed.
I think I've worn myself out on my first blog. You know. Like too much mental aerobics. Except I wasn't discussing nuclear fission or how to dismantle a bomb or the origins of the pythagorean theorem. So I should save the sob story for someone who cares.
Peace out reader. Thanks for enduring.