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Merry Christmas message from Debauchery Soup

I have Nic for a short time tonight – so of course, I picked the moment I washed my face and was in my PJ’s to say:

“Will you do a Christmas video with me for my site??”

I know Christmas blog will be many, many shots of food and ‘artistic’ tree and discarded gift wrap (LOL!)

What you don’t know, is while Nic isn’t big on reading my posts himself, often I have him read them aloud so I can see how they come across.  He is UBER talented at voice over – and so far (because we know plans and ambitions change during the teen and early twenty years) wants to pursue that avenue.

He imitates so many voices – and I’m going to try to include the video he made for college – his narration grabbed the attention of everyone I forced to watch it, and every one authentically said “He needs to do voice work.”

ANYWAY!  2 more sleeps!  And I wanted to say to those who celebrate Christmas “Merry Christmas!

And I wanted to do it in person.

Because I appreciate every one of you that reads my humble little odd blog!

Here’s my video:

I donned the fedora, because Nic said he was slappin’ his Santa hat on.

I was not going to be lacking in the haberdashery department.  He didn’t (obviously) end up wearing it.

Still rockin’ the fedora though – even in my PJs and no make up. LOL!

Here’s his Zombie movie he and his girlfriend made for college.

LOVE it!  You’re going to love the music, and hopefully confirm that my boy is a natural when it comes to narration. 🙂  If it won’t let you see the video on iphone or ipad – please go to a PC and check this out.

yeah, I have a cameo, and my favorite part is the bloopers, so be sure to watch it to the end!!



(and yeah, I slapped North Korea into my tags – why not?  I’ve watied two plus years to be pressed! LOL! Freedom of expression …. sorta fits. 😉 (IMO – I don’t think they were behind the Sony thing – and I don’t think we were behind their outage the other day … c’mon, their power goes out all the time.  One of my favorite comments I read on the topic was “South Korea musta changed their WIFI password”.  Ha!)


The first 12 of 45

I fell asleep last night wondering if musicians get goosebumps or tear up when they play their best songs live.  I thought this after getting goosebumps and tearing up to this.

Comfortably Numb, live.

I drifted off to sleep having been wished ‘Happy Birthday’ from 3 countries in which I was already born – and with David Gilmore and Roger Waters echoing in my head.


9:30 p.m. I hear my son coughing violently in the kitchen – then:

Nic: “Don’t mind me – just choking”

Me: “Obviously you’re breathing”

Nic: “ha ha. Don’t rush out to check on me or anything”

Me: “K.”

Nic: “That’s my mom!” (as if he’s got a crowd he’s informing of this. “That’s my mom ladies and gentlemen”)

I smile and close my eyes.


10:30 p.m. Eyes back open. My son is church mousing around in the kitchen, the house shakes. He has inherited my delicate elephant stomp.

12:04 a.m. Awoke from a dream involving two special friends from the past and a mystery man – we’d gone on a crazy roller coaster and then to a Depeche Mode concert. Ended up on stage and of course, I was taking photos.

2:00 a.m. Butters stands beside my bed, breathing on me. I try to ignore her.

2:30 a.m. Butters stands closer – breathing more heavily. I get up, let dog out and leave front door open for the dog and any and all serial killers to have easier access to me while I returned to bed.

4:00 a.m. Seriously??? Dog is nowhere to be seen, so what the hell has roused me this time????

5:00 a.m. Peer at clock with gritty, tired eyes … too tired to roll them in anguish

5:30 a.m. I give up.


Didn’t have that ‘it’s my birthday’ feeling as I scooted out of bed and wobbled to the bathroom.

I always at least have that ‘it’s my birthday’ feeling first thing in the morning (well, on birthday mornings anyway, not every morning obviously)

I guess 45 is the cut off for that pink frosted feeling.

Son sleeping, dog still outside.

I microwave a cup of yesterdays coffee, because I’m too lazy and uncoordinated to make a new pot.

Shower cap in hand, towel at the ready, I sit and wait for my alarm, because I have no clue how to turn it off prematurely.


6:00 a.m. Shower. I ponder while I’m in there.

Why do men have the best razors??

Seriously, considering the skin footage we women have to shave compared to men – shouldn’t ours be cutting edge? (No pun intended) and don’t give me that ‘But men have to shave their delicate angled faces’ crap, because you know as well as I do that women shave a hell of a lot more ‘delicate’ places and we have curves and angles too!

I will only buy mens razors.

7:10 a.m Dressed – still sipping my microwaved coffee – my mum calls and sings at me from the dog park.

7:20 a.m. I’m milling about the house now … always ready early – always restless.

I spy a banana in the fruit bowl that looks like a duck. I think perhaps it was bored, in there all alone – and decided to morph in order to have some fun.

I decide I like that banana instantly.


I give Butters two of her biscuits and then proceed to tip two vitamins in my hand and pop them in my mouth – along with dog biscuit crumbs.

Nice one.

*sigh* I’ll count that as breakfast.

7:35 a.m. I decide to plant a kiss on my sleeping sons cheek – he’s shirtless in bed with a sunburn

Me: “Hey naked … I’m outta here”

Him: ….

(I’m sure he’s got ‘Happy Birthday’ planned to exit his mouth later.)

Out the door I go.


I hope for a really amazing song in the car – no luck. I end up pretending to know the words to a new Shakira song and sing out of key.

7:45 a.m. Arrive at work.

I unlock the door … notice the ‘Happy Birthday’ sign place above my desk has fallen off of the wall. I put it back up after I disable the buildings alarm. Then I wonder if that’s self-appreciating or just helpful. Decide it doesn’t matter, my OCD needs that sign back up where it was.

There is a birthday card on my keyboard.

A little while later, another card heads my way in the hands of my sweet friend Ruth. A tiny ribboned box perches atop it.

The card cracks me up.

This is it:


The little box opens to reveal a teeny tiny necklace. This friend knows me well. I love ‘little’. I love delicate. I love the necklace and she stands behind me and puts it on.


Friend: “Now we’re married.”

I’m thinking I could do a lot worse. She’s amazing. And she knows my humor and taste.

We would be bound to have a long and successful union – except she’s still madly in love with her husband.

The broker comes through the door with the most adorable tulips – and yes, they’re for me.

I’m feeling spoiled – and it’s only 9:15 a.m





10:48 a.m. Finally got a Happy Birthday from my son.

He has accompanied his girlfriend to the dentist and the following instant messages ensued:

Him: I just saw a turtle wet a fallen flower

Him: *Eat

Me: It would have been funnier if it HAD wetted it

Him: Lol, well the flower just fell from a nude into the water, and the turtle ate it and went underwater, So I guess he did. Lol

Me: Nude??

Him: Bush*

Me: I don’t even want to know why your ipad confuses ‘bush’ with ‘nude’ lmao

Him: lol, oh no.

Him: Happy birthday by the way

Me: Finally


We have the strangest conversations. I hope he doesn’t eat the duck banana before I can point it out to him.

Yeah sure, I could show him a photo – but it’s so much better to meet a duck banana in the flesh … peel?


My boss takes me to lunch from 11:30 a.m. to 1:00 p.m.  We sit outside and chat.  The view is gorgeous.  I enjoy her company.  We shared a room on a business trip to Phoenix a while ago – and over 8 hours in the car together.  I like her. That’s the true test you know, a long car ride and sharing a room successfully.



I have the Mahi-Mahi wrap with wasabi and soy – SO good.

First meal of my 45th year, other than that dog biscuit crumb I had for breakfast.

You know, I never thought I’d make it to 30, let alone 40 … and now I’m half way to 90 for crying out loud!

And 90 is doable. Considering my little and delicate nannie just celebrated 91.

If I wore her on a necklace, close to my clavicle, she might see 101.

Home now,  my parents have just left – and wouldn’t you know it?  A pink frosted thing came with them.

I’m too full and too tired to eat any of it – but after the first 12, I did catch a glimpse of that ‘it’s my birthday’ feeling.




Happy Mothers D … zzzz

Ah Mothers Day.

Began at 5:30 for me – I tried to roll my eyes, but my eyeballs weren’t working yet.

Seriously – why the hell do I wake up so early??  Might have something to do with Butters staring at me.

The thing is, I begrudgingly get up, go to the bathroom – and by the time I have the wherewithal and balance to let her out, she’s gone back to sleep with her head on my side of the bed.

Right.  That’s that then.

This morning was no different.  Although, I had to wake Nic up so he could be sure he wasn’t working today.

Funny story about that … and it’s only funny in a ‘Ha!  Now he is getting a taste of the ‘real world’ way’.

Yesterday he was late to work – he got a scolding for that (not from me – I’m amused on the sidelines, watching him learn from his mistakes)  and then he proceeded in his naivety to advise them that he would be unable to work today as it is Mothers Day.

I settled in to the couch with a gleeful twinkle in my ‘you’ve got to be freaking kidding me’ eye, to hear what the response was.

“They told me I’m not the only person who has a mom.”

I couldn’t suppress a giggle.

Who knew that watching your child learn first hand all the things you tried to teach them would be so much fun??

“Aw! Nic, seems you’re learning that the only world that revolves around you is mine.”

Turned out he doesn’t work today – after he put a phone call in to his place of employment.

He is now honoring Mothers Day from the couch.



He’s going to kill me for that …

Notice the dog is also actively ignoring me – nose to the gap in the front door.

I called my mom – we have brunch plans (I’ll be sure to wake Nic up in time).

“Where is this ‘Bumlbeberries?'”  I asked.

“It’s downstairs”


I didn’t even know what building I was going to …

“So, enter the chocolate factory and take what?  A left or a right past the lickable wallpaper?”

Laughter from the other end of the phone.

I was serious.  A bumbleberry sounds very ‘Wonka’ to me.



What in the world is it?   And more importantly, are they going to have cake?  Of the bumbleberry variety perhaps?

I asked.

“No, there’s no such thing.  I looked it up.”

See – this is where I get my research gene from.  I love that my mother took the time to look up ‘Bumbleberry’ just to see if  one does in fact exist.

She’s looking forward to the crab legs and escargot.  I’m looking forward to multiple trips to the buffet and photographing my food.

And of course, spending time with her.

And Nic.

If he ever wakes up.

Musings from my bed: Laundromat procrastination

I should already have my laundry basket prepared … my detergent packed – my bed stripped.  But, I’m too comfortable in it to strip it.  Too snuggly in my soft pajamas to do anything but stay in this quiet moment.


It’s inevitable – if I want clean clothes and sheets – and I am fond of such things.

But just this moment – right this second – it is SO deliciously quiet and peaceful and calm.

I have my cup of coffee, of the home made fancy variety.

Butters is outside exploring.  Nic is sleeping.  And the sun is hitting my curtain in a way that makes me smile.


It’s been a long few days.

Nicholas is experiencing the joy of becoming wise – in a most painful way.  Yes, the wisdom teeth.

Well, ‘tooth’ as far as we can tell with all of our dental training.

Unfortunately for my chipmunk – he has an infection (again, educated guess based on the level of pain and size of his cheek.)

Last night, as we sat on our opposing couches, he suddenly jumped up and rushed to the kitchen.

Me: What??!

Nic: I think something just happened.

(I pretty much knew ‘something’ must have happened because Nic doesn’t move that quickly off of furniture for ‘nothing’.)

It turns out, that ‘something’ was an abscess rupturing in his mouth.

Not pleasant.

Me: Rinse with warm salt water!!

(Nic was already holding the salt – note to self: He DOES listen and retain advice from time to time – keep giving it)

I should take a moment to explain why I am not a terrible mother for not having had him seen by a dentist yet.

We were pretty sure a wisdom tooth was coming in – and he was in pain.  But, as I said to Nic, “Of course you’re in pain, you are teething.”

It wasn’t until Halloween that he developed the swollen face.

I’m not going to go into details and pity stories – the long and short of it is, we don’t have health or dental insurance and we don’t have ‘in case of emergency’ money.

I spent Friday at work trying to figure out how to get him to a dentist.

So after the great ‘rupture’ he was actually feeling better.

Nic: Mom, look, I think it’s a good thing.  I can bite down now.  I don’t think I have to go to the dentist!

Me: Um … an abscess popping in your mouth isn’t a check mark in the ‘reasons I DON’T have to go to the dentist’ column.

Then he was sad. Spitting remaining salt water and drool into his little spit cup.

We had engaged in conversation earlier about the reality of the situation.  I assured him his health was priority one, but that might mean Christmas would not be the same under the tree.

We spoke again when I visited him in his room.

Nic: I don’t want you spending money or owing money

Me: It is what it is.  It’s important!   Money can be replaced.  It’s silly isn’t it?  These pieces of paper that we trade for goods and services.  Sure, it would make things easier if we had more of it – but we don’t.  We’re blessed though.  Everything always works out.  So, don’t worry about it.

And we are blessed.

We’re alive – have use of our limbs and our faculties.  We have a home and food and snuggly pajamas.  We have each other and Butters.  We have clothes TO wash and transportation TO get to the place to wash them.

And we have sunlight playing on our curtains.  And the kind of eyes and souls that notice such things  – and smile.

Happy Birthday Nicholas

“Twenty years is, after all, a long time.  We are not the same people we were.  Old friends, lovers, even family members; they are strangers who happen to wear a familiar face.  We have no right to claim to know anyone after such a distance …” – Graham Joyce from Some Kind of Fairy Tale

But I do know my son.  There has been no distance. 

I’ve had some people say to me, “Let him grow up!” As if I haven’t been.  Or, “Get your own life” as if I haven’t had one.  

Yet, if they found themselves before someone who was suddenly without their partner after 18 years of a constant shared life – would those be the same sentiments offered?  “Let them go!”  “Get your own life now!”

I would hope not.

Even someone who just lost their pet after so much time would be treated kinder than that. 

I know I am not losing my son – but this is the beginning of the end of how things have been for many, many years.  And before long, I won’t have the right to say I know him.  Not the way I do now. 

And that’s as it should be.  I know this.  I am not stupid.

He was never mine, after all, I merely had the honor of raising him for the world.

I’ve made a lot of mistakes.  But I can with utmost certainty look back at my life and my son will never have been one of them.

It has just been he and I for most of these 18 years.  And he was my life.  Shouldn’t a child be a parents number one priority? 

Not putting myself first led me to a happier heart and a wiser soul.  I’ll never understand why some children are born into the world to be tolerated and not adored. 

Nic was my purpose.  And being his mom is my pleasure, not some thief of my own time.  

From the moment I felt him kick and hiccup – I loved my baby.  I did not want to know the sex. Upon hearing “It’s a son” in the hospital room, March 31st, 1995, I became Nicholas Avery Charles’ mother. 

What an amazing experience it’s been! 

I remember when I was little wanting to be an archeologist – perhaps a teacher – a writer – a rock star?  My interests changed as I grew, but the one constant was knowing I wanted to be somebody’s mom.

This is so hard! My sixth attempt at this post.  I haven’t been able to find the right words! 

I so wanted this to be the post I look back on as my best.  I am writing this to the most important person in my life after all.

I tried just typing, but got so caught up in memories I couldn’t do them justice.

Weighed the options of humor or  taking the mushy route and waxing poetic …

Then while reading, the quote I opened with sent me back to the computer.

So, let’s begin.

Nicholas Avery Charles – today you are 18.

You’re on the precipice of something great.  You’ll make your way and your own decisions – but you’ll never be alone.  I will always be here for you. 

I will never stop being your mom.

Never stop wishing the best for you.

Never stop supporting your dreams and goals. 

I love you so very much bird.

I’ll try really hard NOT to use the following sentence: “If you want to be treated like an adult, you had better start acting like one!”  I hated that. 

You don’t suddenly go to bed 17, liking video games, anime and being catered to then wake up 18 with brand new interests and a sudden overnight maturity. 

I want to tell you Thank you.  Because what you’ve given me just by existing is the largest love I’ve ever known and the most educational experience I’ve ever had, and the strongest bond I’ve ever had with another human being.

Thank you for being my memories, my todays and my hope for the future.  I look at you and know that the world will be just fine with people like you in it.

I hope you enjoy the rest of your teens – it’s so odd isn’t it?  Technically an adult, still a teenager.  It’s hard to know what is expected of you.  Well, I personally expect nothing of you.  You are right where you are supposed to be, being just who you are meant to be. 

There is no right way to be 18. 

Make some memories, dream and try not to do anything you’ll wish you could erase upon looking back.

Read books.

Listen to your heart.

Expand your mind.

Have compassion and try not to judge.

Smile and know, you are enough.

Because you are – and you always have been.











And hey …  1,2,3’s and I know you’re not 15 … but I hear this song and think of you.  Love you so very very very very much.  – Mom. xxxxx