How Am I Awesome? It's Impossible to Say . . .

Alrighty then. I just reviewed the Fed's flow-of-funds chart from Q1 of 2009 and holy shi . . . I mean, never mind. To get back my mojo though, I thought I'd return to Honey Pie Horse's awesomeness meme. Here she is, looking amazingly composed and ever-so-awesome on the eve of her first video debut.
She challenged me to compile a seven-item list of my awesomenesses, sending me off on a long mental adventure. But I'm back now, at the end of the diving board, with at least a few new jumps. "I am awesome" . . .
1. At being found by mosquitoes. Our family once camped in the wilderness. Mr. M was bitten twice. Mr. Husband? Not once. But me? Oh, thirty-seven bites, at least -- I counted. So it's about time OFF came up with these nifty clip-on no-spray repellers. Even if I have nothing in common with the taut hiker mom pictured in the ad.
2. For having learned (and forgotten) how to sew. By the late '80s, quilting bees were squarely out of fashion, while balloon curtains were all the rage. Somehow I managed to sew several balloon curtains all by myself. My friends marveled, called me a swag queen. Of course, today, "swag" means something else entirely.
In my ability to cook just three things, over and over again, and hornswoggle my family into thinking this predictable menu is perfectly normal. Having nearly mastered lasagna at the age of 44, I make it every other Friday for dinner. On the other Fridays I alternate between chicken in wine sauce and taco salad. Yeah baby. Just call me the Barefoot Contessa Barrister.
4. Because I can take away all rapture, rob Mr. M of all joy without ever looking back: no sodium nitrate or nitrite, no high fructose corn syrup, no BPA, no Mario cartoons, . . .
5. At timing, I am spot-on. Mr. M's birthday collides with Mother's Day and comes too late in the school year for the obligatory cafeteria-cupcake mom-serenade. As an added benefit, I've been able to avoid the brewing cupcake controversy altogether.

6. At smelling book spines and remembering how I learned to read. The method was Distar SRA. The book, "How to Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons," is available on Amazon. I managed to teach Mr. M in 100 mostly-peaceful lessons. We are still speaking to each other and gleefully smelling spines.
7. At remembering, and then finding for Mr. M, all the cool old stuff my smart mom got me when I was a kid (although the list of what she wouldn't buy me is equally enlightening). So I found things for Mr. M like . . .
* the Flying Turtle (for coordination and upper-body strength)
* Husker-Du (a clever Swedish memory game)
* Perfection (put the pieces back in place in under 60 seconds, or BOOM!) It even comes with a handy drawer to contain all those small foot-wounding, game-ruined-if-lost, pieces.
* old records that blare the multiplication tables in a pathetic attempt to rhyme, and an old Fisher-Price record player on which to play them. These treasures I found on Ebay. If you thought "I'm just a bill up on Capitol Hill" was a riot, get ready for NINE TIMES NINE is EIGHTY-ONE!
* every Underdog episode known to man or mom (and finding someone who'd transfer them cheaply onto DVD before they disintegrated). "When Polly's in trouble, I am not slow. It's up, up, up and away I go!"* CBS Radio Mystery Theater episodes FREE off the internet (and figuring out how to load them on Mr. M's MP3) . . . These are great!
8. In my uncanny ability to foresee what will forever be a classic -- like my Lilly P purse from 9th grade, pictured here -- and hold on to it until it's once again all the rage.Bonus: having the good judgment to keep my fashion-forward finds sequestered deep in the attic, even when they make a roaring come-back. Because let's face it: it's flat-out uncool to flaunt your oldness coolness.
Oops, that's more than seven. Better stop now while I'm still the tag-you're-IT girl. So TAG, YOU'RE IT TO SEVEN MORE -- unless you're in the throes of a really good book: The Mother, Dental Maven, and the oh-so unmatronly Becky at Suburban Matron. Becky, shown here in a shower of candles, is ramping up to enjoy a sliver of her I-just-turned-17 birthday cake.
Stinky Bee (although you definitely don't need me) and the spunky Mayor of Sasstown (pictured here is the Mayor's handsome son), show us your coolness, too. Last but not least, the creative dog-loving Lady-Fi, pictured left in her Sunday best . . . and the lovely daughter of Christine over at The Book Bench? It's reveal-time for you gals, too.

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