THE BEST BIRTHDAY EVER !!!!!.....until next year.

Alternate title: It's My Party and I'll Plan if I Want To.

Wow, what a day yesterday was. The best birthday I have ever had. Of course, I say that every year...and I mean it. There really is no competition or expectations to met or exceed. I just hope for and receive a fabulous birthday...every year. I am sure a lot of it is my attitude. But it is also a control issue.

After an appointment yesterday morning (I got my hair did...and was looking good!) I stop by a bakery and picked up beautifully frosted cupcakes in various flavors. They were packaged so as to be a treat for the eyes and the mouth. Presentation is everything! I got back to my office with cupcakes in hand and proceeded to have a party ALL DAY. One of my lovely student assistants gifted me with bright Gerber daisies which adorned my desk and made me feel loved. I was able to quietly coerce many friends (fellow employees) to join me in a cupcake party throughout the day. One friend would stop by as another would leave. I felt loved all day.

Several of the party goers would exclaim that they did not know that it was my birthday and felt badly. I would quickly put them at ease explaining that this was all a part of my master plan. See as I entered the office yesterday morning I was able to exclaim proudly that it was my birthday and offer a party. If others know when your birthday is then awkward parties are hastily planned and executed out of a sense of obligation. I will have none of this. I am in control and will have the party I want. I was able to offer frosted delights and tales of birthdays past. I heard many stories of how others celebrate and cheered as I gathered even more fun ideas for future years. We had fun.

Birthdays are fun. As they should be. It is your own special day. A day to celebrate being born and being alive. Life is good. We should all celebrate our birthdays and honor the person we are and the friends and family that surround us. Hope you all have a Happy Birthday this year. I sure did!

Today's the day the Teddy bears have their Picnic!!!!

Today is a wonderful day. Not only do I get to take another final exam in QBA, but it is also my mother's and aunt's birthday. Whenever I was little, both of my parents would always wake me up for a big day by singing "today's the day the teddy bears have their picnic!". I had no idea what that meant- but it always signified a huge event- elementary school track meets (hey- I could tug-of-war with the best of 'em), reading days, field trips, test days, but most importantly... BIRTHDAYS. We Fullers/Millards take birthdays very seriously. It's a day to celebrate you, and it's the one day you have all to your self. We never said we weren't selfish.



So the whole time that they would sing this song to me- I thought it was a Fuller original. Needless to say, last night I found out that it's a real song- from the turn of the century... and no not the twenty-first, the twentieth. I hardly go a day without realizing that something clever that my parents said- they got from somewhere else.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dZANKFxrcKU

But I love the idea behind it- although it doesn't make much sense- teddy bears & picnics- it's all about starting the day right, waking up to enthusiasm and optimism and making the day yours. You two have always done this for the kids and we really appreciate it. I have no idea how both of you (plural pronouns abundant), have continued to always put happiness in our lives and made us bring in every day with a smile. Y'all have raised some happy, happy children, who continue to spread happiness wherever they go. If you don't believe me, just look at Garner and Harrison- those babies of the family are never without a grin. That is one of the most important things you could have passed along to us, not only the positive outlook, but also the open-minded quality of not taking things or ourselves too seriously. We laugh at everything, and although most might not understand it, we know that we'd rather be laughing than almost anything else.

So, Happy Birthday Lindy & Cindee!! Have an amazing day today, be surrounded by your kids and loved ones (kids migggghhht be the only loved ones ya got), and have fun! I will see you guys at lunch.

Today is the day the Teddy Bears have their Picnic!!

Pay back i.e. response to the Break Up post by Violet

I have alot of catching up to do...

1. You cannot break up with your child. I will report you to child services, and as much as you try to explain to them that I'm over 18, they will not believe you and will throw you into jail. But thanks for giving boys ideas of how to get rid of me.

2. You would never be able to give up your nest. You are your children now, you cannot simply run off to the first cabana/ cabana boy and abandon us/me at our/my time of adulthood. The only chance you even have is to live vicariously through me during my "I am woman hear me roar" phase. Thank you very much.

3. Text Message? Are you kidding me, mom? Who TAUGHT you how to text message? I believe that was me. You cannot break up with me over a medium that I introduced you too, it simply would not be right.

4. Another Mother? No one else in their right mind would take me in after the number you did on me. I am already ruined, for a lack of a better word. Without bestowing a compliment, I enjoy the odd parenting techniques that I have been exposed to, and don't think that another mother would be able to keep up with my ramblings and story telling conversation style. Besides, I don't want a mother that decorates for every holiday, bah humbug, I'd much rather have Christmas lite- it's less hassle.

5. I will find other food if you stop feeding me, but I know that you will continue to have food because of Ace. Where Ace is, there will be food. And I can always eat his crumbs. Plus we have donut-hour every Wednesday morning at the business school, and I siphon food off that for a whole week. I may eat an enormous amount of food- but it's just fueling up because, as a grad student, I never know where my next meal is coming from.

6. But you are right about one thing, it would be you and not me. There's no way that I'm gonna be able to let go, so I guess you might as well cut the umbilical cord. Everyone knows I can't make my own decisions, so why start now? hopefully I can ease into it though- and maybe by the time I have my first child I can be my own person. OOOOORRR... I could just hand the baby over to her and allow her to start the entire mother/grandaughter dependent process all over again.

So after that post? You want a Birthday week?

Pshhh... you will be lucky if Harrison makes you a lamp from shop-class. Oh wait, that's what you got last year. Maybe he'll fork over his bug project.

Ames, Iowa by Violet

There were a lot of more fun things I could have done this weekend. But instead, I went to Ames Iowa for the Big 12 MBA Case Competition with 3 of my business school classmates. I’ve been to two competitions so far this semester, and the last one in Washington D.C., the case took up way too much time to be worth the trip. This one was a lot better, because they only gave us a day to work on the actual case.

The whole case competition concept - is basically like more school during the weekend, with an intense amount of teamwork activities. This weekend however, we worked very well together. We combined our skills and knowledge, and shut people up when they needed to be shut up. The team as a whole was also able to convey their knowledge through the speaking presentation. There is definitely one huge thing that I gained from business school, and that is the ability to control my nerves better during public speaking. While I still talk way too fast- blame that on my mother- I feel that I was able to effectively present our analysis and recommendation on Amazon's Kindle.

So, admittedly, I had a great time in the great state of Iowa. Pretty scenery, good food and the big 12 competitors were all very nice. But it's still no lone star state... and I did get stuck in Des Moines airport for 5 hours.

VIOLET IS GONE !!!!!

Violet is gone for the weekend. She is at a case competition in Iowa somewhere. Of course, EVERYTHING is a competition for her so she is definitely in her element. I miss her,though, whenever she travels. I have three other children, but she is the one that calls me every morning on her way into class and will stop by my office for a break in the day. Her absence is felt.

I am looking for ways to break up with my daughter. Next time this year, she will be a law school graduate and off and running into her new career. She has already stuck her toe into the waters of the grown-up world, and is currently wading waist deep with a clerkship at a law firm here in town. She loves it! She is prepared. Violet has many options which she has worked hard to obtain and will have a myriad of choices when she receives her degree next February. She deserves all of the acclaim she receives. She is fabulous. But we have to break up.

Her fabulosity is the problem. She lived in my house for 18 years and only moved 15 miles away to attend undergraduate college at Baylor. When it came time to do graduate work and attend law school, she chose to continue at Baylor and stayed close to home. I am spoiled. She has brought joy and laughter into everyday of my life for the past 24 years. So you get it....I love her, I cannot live without her. But somehow I must.

How do I break up with her? How do I learn to live without her in my life? I realize that some mothers had to do this when their children were 18...I am lucky. But I figure I better break up with her before she breaks up with me. I'm selfish like that. So I have determined 5 of the best ways to break up with your child. And you faithful followers will be privy to my years (actually minutes) of research. Here they are:

1. Tell her that I have decided to become childless. I am over fifty and no longer feel the need to have children...namely HER. My biological clock is no longer ticking. In fact, it has come to a dead stop. Tell her I have decided to be a childless career woman of the 1980's. I Am Woman Hear Me Roar!.While it has been a great run, her services as a daughter are no longer needed and she is being let go. Thank you very much.

2. Send her a text message. Admittedly kinda the weak way out, but we do communicate via text message several times a day and she delivers good and bad news to me via this method. Maybe something simple like...IT'S OVER! And do not explain when she returns the text with a "????" No explanation necessary. Sever all communication after that point. It is easier this way.

3. Recommend another mother she might like. Kind of the bait and switch method. Tell her about other mothers you have heard about...how much they love their daughters, are better cooks, decorate for every holiday, etc. Emphasize my own weaknesses and my inability to be the kind of mother that she needs at this time in her life. Tell her she deserves better. Which she does.

4. Stop feeding her. Stop taking her to lunch, stop Sunday dinners, stop stocking a snack drawer in my office. I feel like the little kid who's mother tied a pork chop around his neck to get the dogs to play with him. For a little person, she eats an enormous amount of food everyday. So if the food source dries up will she still want to hang around me? My guess is no.

5. Tell her that it is not her... it is me. Do not allow her to accept any of the blame for the demise of our relationship. Own the entire breakup and control your reactions and hers. Tell her you just want to be friends and preempt any tears with a "Call me sometime and we will do lunch". Hopefully she will be stunned as this breakup catches her off guard. She will have no response and be too shocked to do anything but turn and leave. I will miss her, she will miss me, but it is better this way, time heals all wounds, she will find someone else, etc.,etc.,etc.

So, do you think that this will work? Will I be able to break up with Violet before she breaks up with me? Can a Mother really break up with her daughter...or is this a lifetime gig? Am I destined to be heartbroken by my own first born as she takes her first steps into adulthood...feeling left out of major decisions that are hers, and hers alone, to make?

Or should we just stay together? We do make a pretty good mother/daughter team. I might just hang on for a while longer...if she doesn't need a mother anymore maybe she can find a position for me elsewhere in her life. Mentor, friend, cook...I think I will stick around and take what I can get. A little of Violet is worth so much more than the entirety of anyone else.

THE BIRTHDAY WEEK BEGINS !!!!

OUR birthday is next week. WE always celebrate together.
And ask US...WE always speak in plural pronouns. Its a twin thing. Not many people understand.

Birthdays were always celebrated in our family growing up. We felt special. But as two of five children, we were not singled out as any more important than any of our other siblings. The twin thing was a part of who we were but we were raised as two individuals, put in separate classrooms, encouraged to have different friends. Probably because of these efforts on the part of our parents, we grew even closer as adults as we began our families and progressed into middle age. We share similar interests, hobbies and values. More so than with our other siblings. We shared a womb for nine months and a bedroom for the next 18 years.


As spunky 18 year old college freshmen, my twin and I had the brilliant idea of having a Birthday Week. A Birthday Extravaganza, if you will. We argued that after having shared a birthday for 18 years (which is exactly 9 birthdays each)we deserved to be celebrated for an entire week for ever after. Our mother eagerly played along and for an entire week gifts were left at our places at the breakfast table. We were special, we were loved. Over the years, the Birthday Week waned (our husbands refused to play along). This is a busy time of the year. We each had children with birthdays closed to ours and we have spent the past years planning children's parties, readying kids for proms, graduations, and summer programs.

Our children have often argued amongst themselves over who will be selected to live with us in our twilight years, convinced that we will be living together in a condo in Miami wearing the same shade of red lipstick and extremely bright colored clothing. Wonder who the lucky child will be?

Somehow our Birthday Extravaganza became, once again, simply a birthDAY. Of course, when celebrated appropriately (with love and kind thoughts) ALL birthdays are happy. Our families will celebrate with us and we will find time to celebrate together another year of looking alike, thinking alike, and being alike. I cannot think of anyone I would rather share a birthday with....Happy Birthday Dear Sister.

Computer Illiterate

Okay...so someone will simply have to drag me into the new millennium! I realized that we are ten years into it, but my resistant has been strong and my heels have dug deep while being pushed forward.

I was having a little computer trouble today in the office. Nothing new, really, this happens at least 2-3 times a week. I truly cannot help it. I am computer illiterate.

I will tell anyone that will listen that the computer class that I took in college while obtaining my BBA in 1980 was a data processing class in which we had to run three inch by nine inch cards with holes punched in them. Sounds archaic, right? I never understood the class. I seem to remember an especially cute guy, who was a computer major at the time, helping me submit my programs to the gigantic machines in the computer lab. Wonder where that guy is now? I can't even recall his name. Probably something like Dell, Jobs or Wozniak. My loss. I thought at the time that if I could just make it out of this class that I would never have to mess with a "computer" again. Oh silly me.

The world I now live in is so technological and I am so technologically challenged. So as the word continued spinning in the direction of newer, bigger, better computers I was busy starting my family. As each child started school and I volunteered in their computer labs, I quizzically looked at each monitor and keyboard as the alien forms that I knew them to be. This was for the next generation, not me. This is what the entire basement floor of Hankamer looked like circa 1980.

Needless to say, as the years went by, I have accepted, if not embraced, what computers have to offer me and my world. It started with Christmas card lists and labels, Print Shop Deluxe for Birthday party invitations and simple Word documents. And lo and behold, I now have a blog with my daughter. Will wonders never cease?

So this afternoon, while 6 student workers and an intern gather around my desk and try to "fix" my problem, I will sit back and watch and be amazed at how far things have come in the computer world, nay in MY world.

Spring has Sprung

Love, Love, Love this time of year. A time of newness and freshness. All around me I am delighted with bright new color..."spring green". In Texas, we all learn to appreciate the bright colors of Spring. Only too soon will we have upper ninety degree temperatures and dried, lifeless plants and lawns.

As I ready my patio for container pots of geraniums, vinca,and begonias, I am reminded that I literally get about a month between rainy weather and sweltering heat to enjoy my patio. Luckily I have large patio doors all across the back of my house so that I may enjoy my flowers and wooded backyard throughout the year in air conditioned comfort. Lucky me.

Twenty miles down the road my daddy has a half acre garden in which he toils year round. It began as a hobby, something to keep him busy after retirement. He, of course, is of the generation that didn't really have hobbies...they WORKED. So, daddy "works" his garden. He has improved the soil, planted and developed hybrids and basically has feed six families each year with his half acre plot of ground. My children refuse to eat store bought tomatoes or corn. Papa's produce is so much sweeter and tastier. All of the grandchildren have grown up to be good veggie eaters...mainly because of Papa's garden and the tastiness of the results of his labors. Can you taste Love? I say, Yes!

As the children grow, we encourage them to help Papa in his ventures. Even very young they were able to plant the corn kernels in the prepared furrows left by Papa's plow. They helped Nana plant lettuce and radishes in the small portion of the garden that Papa allowed her for a kids' section. They slowly graduated to weeding (just the weeds, not the tomatoes), supporting plants with cages, and (the most fun of all) harvesting.

Every year, without many words, Papa teaches his grandchildren lessons. Lessons that apply to the garden and LIFE:

The importance of sunshine and rain....each need to happen in the appropriate measures at the appropriate times to make things grow.

Organic goodness being worth the extra effort...the taste and purity is worth having to eat around the bad spots.

If at first you don't succeed...plant again, there will be another Fall, as there will be another Spring.

Prepare your soil....a good foundation is the beginning of all things good.

Gather all of the information you can, not only before you begin, but at all times during the project. Knowledge is power.

Be receptive to others' advice, but make your own choices. The result is all you. You won't be able to blame anyone but yourself. But no one else will get the credit, either.

Share your fortune. Always be generous with the fruits of your labor. Share with family, friends, local food banks. There are always others in need.

Celebrate the Harvest! Congratulate yourself on a job well done. Take time to reflect on reasons certain crops grow and why certain ones die. Learn from your mistakes. Rejoice in your successes.

Daddy has spent a lifetime providing for his family...in one way or another. The produce is welcomed and delicious. But the lessons are so much sweeter.

Helicopter Mom

This term may be strange to many of you. It was coined by teachers to describe mothers who are always hovering over their children. It is used as a negative description of an over protective, controlling mother. They say it like it is a bad thing. Am I overprotective? Well, in trying to protect my children,yes, I may become overly so. Am I controlling? Well, as I try to control certain situations in order to help my children in making wise and positive decisions, yes, that is my aim. So, shoot me...I love my kids. I want to help them in any and all ways that I can.

Labels have never bothered me. Call me what you will. I have probably been called worse. I embrace my role as a mother and treat it as the true mission that it is...not to be taken lightly. When my children are ask to spend the night at friends' homes I rarely say yes. These are my children and I am responsible for them...what they experience, who they are influenced by, and where they go. This responsibility is too easily and too often shifted to others. My children do not need to be influenced by other children...or other parents, for that matter. These kids were given to me to raise and I protect that right. This is not to say that each of my children have not had positive adults in their lives other than their parents. Our lives have been blessed with many coaches, teachers, and mentors in various activities in which they have been involved. But no one is ever MORE involved than I am. My kids may not always like it, but....I am a big part of their lives. And will continue to be as long as I am breathing.

When adults tell me that their child is free to make a certain life changing decision on their own, I am shocked! I guess I should define "child" before I get chided for being controlling again. I am referring to under eighteen year olds, and yes, that includes the decision on where to go to college. What happens in your life is often determined by decisions made between the years of 18-22. These are highly formative years. Whether you attend a 4 year university, a junior college, trade school or simply start working 40 hours a week, the people you meet, the experiences you have, positive and negative, shape you into the adult you will become. Hopefully, my kids have been building decision making strategies and capabilities along the way. They are given age appropriate tasks and situations in which to test their responses to different opportunities. This should ideally happen while they are still under my roof, where I can assist with input, guidance and consequences. But some things only come up after they are away at school or out of your house. Does this mean that they are left to fend for themselves? What kind of mother stops being a mother when their child turns 18? We should continue with our input, advice and praise. These kids are a long way from grown.

If I am not influencing my child in making decisions, you can bet that someone else is. Big decisions are just that... BIG. Help these kids. Give them your thoughts, give them your guidance, give them your experience. Then make the decision together, without the influence of the BFF of the moment or local youth minister. Do not forfeit your rights and privileges as a parent to someone else! No one knows your child like you do...or like you should. Take responsibility for those decisions. Do not allow others to steal the joys OR difficulties of raising your children.

So, if you are looking for me... you have only to look slightly above any of my children's heads. I will be hovering above them, ready to pounce with love, praise and guidance.

Fuller Monday mornings by Violet

Nothing could make a Monday morning better than waking up super early after a great night's sleep (falling asleep at 10 the night before) and drinking coffee with my family. That is one of the many perks of living fairly close to my family. Although it's only a 20 minute drive out to my family's house, I don't go out there that often. Mostly because when I do, nothing gets done, as far as school work is concerned. I still can't figure out how I got any work done in high school there, my family is too entertaining and too much fun. There is absolutely no time for actual productivity.

After having a surprisingly productive Sunday (first one since law school), I decided I needed some Fuller-time, and some good food. So of course, I texted everyone who would look at their phone, to announce my arrival. Harrison later called to make sure I was on the road, and announced that he had eaten all of my food and saved none. Fortunately, there was plenty of food left over. I could never go hungry at the Fuller house. Not only did we have Monday-night chicken, yes on a Sunday, but my mom had also cut up an entire pineapple, and had an amazing fruit spread and huge bowl of caesar salad.

It is Ace, though, and not I that is the prodigal child. As I walked through the front door, everyone is sitting around Ace watching whatever he has deemed funny for that moment in time. Our family enjoys watching movies with him, even the gross comedies, just to watch him giggle. He is the movie buff, and we trust his judgment, as well as enjoy his quotes during and after the movie. So yesterday it was either Meet the Parents, or Walk Hard, same thing. So I walk in basically unnoticed, but immediately feel at home. I love my family's house. It's so warm and welcoming.

But the best part about staying out there is getting up before 6 and drinking coffee with everyone. While we drinking coffee and read comics (my mom particularly liked todays zits comic strip- because it's her life) and also watch some kind of music videos to keep us up on the music pop culture. It's CMT until 6:50, because then Harrison emerges from his room and takes over the room- flipping to some kind of rap. My mom also uses this hour between 6 and 7 to impart her wisdom and catch me up on events that she believes I need to know. Usually I also dance to a lady gaga song to entertain my half-awake siblings. And then most likely, my clumsy self falls over a piece of furniture. All of this happened this morning- which makes my time spent in accounting alot more bearable.

Sunday evening with the kids

Okay, it is Sunday evening and at one time or another today all of my kids have been at home. You have to understand...this brings me great joy! One has just left to return to his dorm room as another one came in to warm up some leftover chicken parmigiana in the microwave. This is heaven.

If you would have told me a dozen years ago that I would find this much joy in being a mother of four, I would have called you crazy. And I KNEW crazy, cause I was! A 3,5, and 7 year old and a 12 year old kept me busier and busier with each passing year. I was in the trenches and having a hard time "enjoying" my family --which has always been my goal. Between preschool, elementary and junior high I belonged to three different Parent Teacher Associations and sat on numerous boards and committees. After school gymnastics, karate, t-ball, and little league kept us all hopping from activity to activity. We always got home for dinner and to share the "best part" of our day and the "worst part" of our day around the table. Someone was always interuppting someone else and the dining room sounded like a circus. So much to say and share. It still seems like a blur when I think back on that time.

My raising of children is far from over, but I have put in enough time to be able to look back at a small portion and see that at least a small bit of my efforts have rewarded me greatly. This is what keeps me going. The carrot for this old mule is the rewards of a happy family that love one another. Kids that come home willingly to share parts of their week with stories told to parents and siblings around a dinner table. These stories, no doubt, will have us laughing and spewing tea from our mouths. My kids are funny (funny ha-ha, not funny weird) and I love them for that.

My children have blessed my day as they bless my life always. I am so glad they are mine.

Word of the day: Assuage by Violet

Besides our affinity for words of the day, this word literally fell into my lap yesterday and I don't think I was familiar with what it actually meant. Literally though, it "fell" into my lap in the form of a text message. And I quote, "Good, u've assuaged my misgivings" (Side note: I like when people mix text spelling with big words- it makes them seem more normal)

I usually make up a definition if I don't know the meaning of the word, but this one I actually wanted to look up- and at least get the correct pronunciation. But not my mom, to her it's A-sewage.

Pronunciation: \ə-ˈswāj also -ˈswāzh or -ˈswäzh\- Charles also told me this correct pronunciation with no hesitation in OB yesterday.
Definition 1 : to lessen the intensity of (something that pains or distresses)

But while I was discussing the first brainstormed title with my mom (I stop by her office between classes), I got distracted with her pronunciation, and then with other random trains of thought. So quickly the novelty of "assuage", or "a-sewage" had worn off, and now I have nothing more to say about that word.

So as I laughed at my mom for making up her own word, we quickly started to talk about the monkey pictures that I had recently posted to be a substitute for not having anything to say. The first picture I just happened on by chance, the other was an oil painting similar to one that my mom and I had seen 6 years ago.

There used to be this ladies' lunch place in Waco that was in a very small shopping center called Mirth- it was soooo good. But the best part of the establishment was the art displayed in the women's restroom. There hung, above the sink, an oil painting of a young girl monkey wearing a party dress, pigtails and earrings. This may seem very elementary as far as humor goes, but man, it may have been one of the most hilarious paintings I have ever seen. So as another stimulae of blog conversation, I posted a picture similar to the monkey we saw by googling "little girl monkey painting", and then further investigating it on ebay.

After my mom saw it today, we googled it together again, and literally could not stop laughing. Who does this? First of all- what 23 (almost 24) year old goes to their mom's office between classes. And Secondly- who goes to their mom's office and googles MONKEY OIL PAINTINGS? What is wrong with our heads that this is a logical train of thought?



The pictures we found though will be used as great fodder for the continuation of our blog. Monkeys are a funny species anyway, but dressed up like humans and painted like a classic? Priceless.

My stomach literally aches from laughing so hard.

Writer's Blog Block. by Violet

Due to increased activity in our actual lives- I think our blog needs a little stimulation to get it back to producing the adequate amount of hilarity. I can no longer just post pictures of monkeys in bikinis to stall for genius to come to me.

So as I was driving in to school this morning, I discussed with my mom the need for a brainstorming session. "Just give me a title", she said, and "I'll blog it". So feel free to comment- but I'm just going to throw a couple of titles out there and see which ones get picked up first. Although group think has led to the demise of many projects, I think my mother just needs a little push and so do I.

"Word of the Day-Assuage"

"Bob Loblaws Law Blog"

"Heavvvyyyyy MOMMMA"

"Yea, that's what I thought- NUTHIN"

"Oakleys- Bikini Night"

"FBO"

"Organizational Behavior? Try being a Mom"

"Anabeth- what were you thinking? BOUT WHAT?"

"Past your sell-by-date"

"Fullard Fridays"

"Mom dun screwed up again.."

Despite tests and work, we must still continue to enlighten our 12 wonderful followers (mom measures our success only in numbers). Plus, there HAS to be some Harrison and Ace stories to tell.

LOL.

Words of the Day- by Violet

When I was in high school- and was even more nerdy than I am now- I used to do the broadcasting for high school announcements. Yes, any opportunity to act like Nancy Grace- and I'm there. But I was still a self-conscious 18 year old, and I refused to go beyond the teleprompter. Now I wish I would have. How fun would that have been?

My mom always insisted that I have a little niche as a high school announcement broadcaster- if there even could be one. She proposed a "word of the day" segment. Every day ending the announcements with a word and definition of the day- to broaden the minds of the few people that listened to Midway High School Announcements.

Her favorite and only suggestion was the word: "Odious"-o·di·ous   [oh-dee-uhs] –adjective 1. deserving or causing hatred; hateful; detestable. She continues to offer this word up to this day.

I constantly laughed in her face and told her "fat chance"- there is no way I would do that on live high school announcements-as if that wasn't enough of a dork stamp already. But now I realize how much that would have helped me- I should've embraced the dorkiness like I do now. Through my love of reading, I also had a love of words. Studying for the SAT was weirdly enjoyable for me. Mrs. Wells (my influential 9th grade History teacher) drove me to work on my love of vocabulary during SAT practice. Teachers and Professors had a profound impact on my growth as a student. I would never have sought out these words by myself.

It's something that I unconsciously continued through law school- picking up new words. Not great at grammar- or eliminating run-on sentences- but I DO love words. Now....If only I can get mom passed the word "odious".

My Mother- the Preacher by Violet

As the story goes- when I was very young and asked many questions, my mother could always find some way to answer them all. I was always completely amazed- and still am. But once, when she came up with a completely logical answer for my little girl question- I told her that, "she should be a preacher...because she could explain things so well".

I'm pretty sure since then, she has taken my 4 year old advice and run with it. She continues to instill advice and impart pearls of wisdom to me and my siblings. And now to whoever will listen/read her blog. Now when we ask her how she knows things- or has answers to our questions- she has a very humble response. "It's because I've been on earth for 50 years- when you are 50 you will know everything too"

She's probably right- but I still don't know where she gets all this information from. She's from Robinson- went to Baylor-had a brief stint in Dallas- then came back to Waco. Yet she is so openminded and had such a great (in my opinion) view of the world.

But I believe my comparison to be quite accurate. As a kid, I saw preachers (in the Baptist church) as a true and reliable source delivering a message of answers. That was mom. Her word was the truth and no question was too silly. She knew how important it was to me to figure things out, and she was always prepared to give a lesson. Too bad for my siblings, that although they aren't as curious as me, they still continue to receive the lessons.

I still ask her questions on all things, even at age 23. "What's the appropriate dress for this occasion?", "How should I go about getting ahold of this person?", "Where in Waco do I go to vote?", "How do I clean sterling silver?", "How do I cook Chicken rice casserole?". From the life-changing to the simple- she has always been there to answer every question. And I truly truly appreciate it. She should be a preacher- just a cool, and bad-ass one with a flair for story telling.

Peep Driving. by Violet

Just left my mom's office with a smile on my face- because we always build each other up and comment on how freakin' hilarious we are. Although it might not be thought by anyone else- but that doesn't really matter to us. Because we literally bust a gut laughing at each others, and our own jokes.

So peep driving was an idea that my mom got from an intern in her office to spice up Easter. The story of how she came up with it is actually better than the novelty of driving Peeps like golf-balls. The Fullards (Fuller-Millards) always spice up holidays somehow...Believe me- the peep driving wasn't even the high point of the Easter Celebration. But, Peeps aren't good for much else- so why not have a driving contest?



So of course when Anabeth got out there to try it- she pointed afar like the Sultan of Swat and showed the family where her Peep was going to land. It wasn't hard to find the winner because of the neon-green marshmallow trail that followed. And yes mom I had to google how to spell that- thank you writing to read.

I was discouraged from trying the game because as either Ace or Harrison explained, "Come on Violet, you are just going to embarrass yourself". My brothers LOVE me.

Our family was a fun mad-house on Easter- and I loved every minute of it. Once I left- I immediately felt the need for a nap- we are just THAT exhausting. but a good exhausting- which left me wondering- do I exhaust everyone that I come into contact with?

So Easter was everything I had built it up to be and more- both Saturday and Sunday celebrations- and even Orphan Easter with my business school friends.

Like law school, many business school graduate students come from out of state and are left alone in Waco for the less celebrated holidays like Easter. So being a Wacoan, much to my mothers dismay, I celebrate Easter also as an orphan on Sunday night. So with Salad and Wine in hand- I went to the Outpost and joined the other orphans, and had a great time.

Best part of that night was when Robert Griffin was playing basketball. Being the only girl at orphan Easter, I was the one volunteered to flirt with him and ask him to "dunk one for me". Looking back, I think I'm going to blame his football injury on the fact that he turned me down. But I know that Harrison Fuller lost a little respect for me the day that i was turned down by a Baylor Football player. Perhaps mom is right, I really am past my sell-by date, at age 23.

Do you kiss your Momma with that mouth?

Alternate title for this post: "WTF with the WTFs?

Why is it okay to have a potty mouth these days? Not only are television programmers much more lax with their censorship of foul language than they used to be, but people seem to be desensitized to language that is far too harsh to be heard in public, especially with ladies present. The general population of this country is smarter, on the whole, than a generation ago, yet their vocabulary has been reduced to using only four letter words... and as many as they can possible fit into a sentence.

The acronym WTF is a mystery to me. When I first heard it used in a normal conversation I had to ask what they meant, although I could kinda tell by the context of the message. When I received my answer, why was I the only one in a dead faint on the floor? The surrounding people seemed nonplussed and joined in the conversation with additional comments using the same phraseology (sometimes acronymized and sometimes not)! I am really getting old. This verbage disgusts me and I find it highly offensive. Furthermore, I think that there is something wrong with you if it doesn't offend you!

And don't even get me started on the f-word or the distortion of it. Freakin', friggin', flippin' or simply f-in'!!! Do they not have any other word in their vocabulary that would describe the same situation? Please use a little more creativity and come up with an adjective that would give us a more pleasant and picturesque image. Although, the word does produce a picture in my mind...but it is not pleasant.

In the past, the f-word was considered the ultimate in four letter words...to be used by only the saltiest sailor home from a raunchy trip to the Orient adorned with colorful tattoos of hootchy kootchy women. (Yes, I used the term hootchy kootchy!) I can count on one hand how many times I heard the f-word in the first forty years of my life...and my father owned a lumber company. I worked around contractors and construction workers everyday.

But in the past several years everyone has loosened their tongues and added the f-word to their list of acceptable word choices. BUT WHAT IS EVEN WORSE are those who dare not venture completely into the depths of verbal depravity and only use the alternative substitutes...freakin', flippin', friggin', or f-in'. They seem to think that this should be acceptable because they have not actually cursed... yet are still oh so hip and happening!

Please. I am so over this fad, phase, or whatever.

Buy a dictionary, buy the ap for a dictionary, or just keep your mouth shut!

Tomorrow IS another day- by Violet

I'm a worrier. I used to stress out on spelling tests in the 1st grade. I actually remember not sleeping on nights before timed multiplication tests in the 4th grade. Also for vocab tests in the 5th grade and AP chemistry tests in the 11th grade.

Deadlines and Rewards are my best motivators. No rewards were better handled than at First Baptist Waco's kindergarten and first grade program. They had a reward system set up where every five books you read you got a jewel for your sash. No matter how many books I could get at the library- I had to have that sash covered in jewels- front and back. And when the sash was filled- I received a crown. So I had a crown and sash covered in the laurels of my labor- forget about the joy of reading- that wasn't figured out till 2nd grade (when there was no reward system besides Accelerated Reader). This was all about the spoils of victory. And beating every little private school kid out of any recognition whatsoever. I guess it fueled my competitive nature a little bit as well.

So while my mom was trying to get Ace to worry about anything at all, she was trying to keep me from having a heart attack at age 11 from a timed test. Same is now true for Harrison- luckily for him, he has inherited the neurotic gene.

Always high-strung, I usually thrive on stress. But every now and then, the stress and worry will overcome me. At some points in my life- usually with the small things that I stress way too much over- I just throw my hands up. I don't like giving up- but sometimes it's necessary for my sanity. Last night was one such a night.

Long story, semi-short- We started a new semester on Tuesday. Two class periods of QBA later and we had a quiz planned for today, right after Easter break. So we were taught how to use a new program for Excel called At Risk, that only works on PCS. Luckily for me, I have a MacBook- which up until now has been able to run a Windows partition effectively enough to get me through QBA and finance. Well somehow last night- I successfully deleted the entire Enterprise system on my Windows Partition- or to translate for my mom and Cindee- "My Printshop Deluxe has been deleted off my computer, and I don't have the back up floppy disk".

So I was left last night after working 8-6, without a computer program to study my quiz on. The business school computers were also unable to help me. This is when the worry set in. I tried to study everything I could that was from the Book and from my notes, but more than 75% of the quiz is based on computer usage.

Man, this story is even boring me. I feel bad for Nick now who was trying to study last night while my computer was on the fritz and I was venting. Who am I kidding? He was watching the Duke-Butler game on his (working) computer and pretending to write a healthcare paper.

Moral of the story is- all the worry and stress and "I'm going to fail" thoughts that went through my head were a complete waste of time. I always do this- you think I would finally learn from it. But my professor said that I could skip this quiz and go get my computer fixed at the computer lab and just let my final exam grade count as a larger percentage of my final grade. Another reason business school is better than law school.

So I turn to words of wisdom imparted by my mother (quoting God): "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own" Matthew 6:34

or rather, from the other Good Book- Gone with the Wind:
"I'll think of it all tomorrow, at Tara. I can stand it then. Tomorrow, I'll think of some way to get him back. After all, tomorrow is another day" (pg.947).

My computer however. is . still. not .fixed. If anyone knows how to eject a disk from a MacBook that is unejectable by the casey computer guys- let me know.

Until then- I might still be worrying.

I will see your bat and raise you a squirrel

Violet's Business School Bat story was funny. That girl can really tell a story. Don't know where she gets it! But, of course, I must do her one better...as I am wont to do from time to time.

I have a lovely home. Nothing too fancy or large. Comfortable. Our house sits on a one acre lot with at least 2/3 of the property covered with large trees. While the foliage is beautiful to look at, it often harbors creatures that I do not care for. The songbirds are always welcome. I keep an anti-squirrel bird feeder stocked with seed to promote the two families of cardinals that must have nests in these trees. I also fill a hummingbird feeder that brings returning hummingbirds year after year. I even hear woodpeckers as they drill the holes for their spring nests. Idyllic, peaceful, heavenly...a wonderful sanctuary for me. I always feel renewed when spending time on my patio gazing at my wooded back yard.

Back to the creatures that I do not care for. Squirrels. We have LOTS of them! My own sweet mother classifies these critters with rats, rodents with bushy tails. I am sure that there is a place in this world for squirrels...I just wish that place excluded my back yard. Lately more ambitious and athletic squirrels will jump from treetop to treetop ending their acrobatic journey on our roof, which frustrates my husband. He has trimmed many branches hoping to discourage these antics. The rodents continue to use our roof as a landing spot. Last night was the last straw. Roger was determined to chase away the squirrels. Just as three squirrels landed on our roof, Roger jumped up from watching the Duke-Butler game, threw open the sliding glass door, grabbed a stick and started banging on the rain gutters to scare the squirrels. They were scared all right! One in particular jumped from the roof landing on the patio and scurried right into my house through the open patio door!

All of this commotion was heard by me as I leisurely read in my back bedroom. Roger proceeded to open my closed bedroom door to filll me in on the most recent squirrel activity. That being that "there is a squirrel in the house, so stay back here and I will take care of getting it out." Of course, as he opened our bedroom door the squirrel ran in and darted behind my dresser. I didn't squeal (I don't squeal)but I did immediately, and quite quickly, vacate the premises and left Roger to manage the squirrel extermination. He promptly trapped it in the bathroom, covered it with a trash can and carried it back outside. Task done. This isn't even the funny part of the story.

All the while Roger was trapping the squirrel, I was texting my older son, Ace concerning said squirrel in the house. Ace is a total WUSS. All 6'4" 195 lbs. of him. He is terrified of birds, rats, squirrels...anything that is small and totally defenseless against the likes of a nineteen year old guy. I really don't know why or how this phobia developed. I swear that I did not subject him to long periods of time chained to a wall in a darkened basement filled with rodents.....often.
The text conversation went like this....
Mom: Ace, come home! There is a squirrel in the house. I need your help!
Ace: No way!
Mom: Ace, you are my oldest son, you are supposed to protect the family. There is a squirrel in our house and I need you to come trap it and get it out. PLEASE.
Ace: You're lying!
Mom: No Ace, believe me. I need you.
Ace: I can't right now.
Mom: ACE! I need you. Come help me!
Ace: Are you joking with me?
Several texts of disbelief and pleadings later...
Ace: Get Baylor and Bear (our yellow labs)to sniff it out and kill it.
Mom: I DO NOT WANT SQUIRREL BLOOD THROUGHOUT MY HOUSE!
Ace: Well, then I don't know what you are going to do.
Mom: Ace, remind me again what good you are to me.
Ace: I help you eat your food.
Mom: Oh, yeah, that's right. Thank you.
Ace: You are welcome.
Meanwhile, Roger has caught and removed the squirrel from the house.
Mom: It is done. Squirrel gone.
Ace: Good, cause I wanted to come home and do laundry.
Ace: Save the pelt.
Ace: I'm bringing home a squirrel stuffing kit to mount it. For my dorm.
Ace: Won't that look cool?
Ace: Mom.
Ace: Mom?
Ace: Mom?????

Fuller Cult Easter by Violet

Easter is a party with the Garner-Fuller-Millard clan. We do it right. We have never celebrated Lent really (although Ace is a fan of Mardi Gras), but it is always very important to my parents to remember the reason for the season of Easter. Every year my mom recounts the Easter story straight from the Good Book to anyone that will listen.

We do holidays big anyways- but Easter is one of my favorites. Actually I like all things celebrated, as does my mom. This year, Easter is even starting a day early- to make room for all of the festivities. Saturday, the big family is meeting at My grandparents house (herein after referred to as Nana and Papa)for lunch. And by lunch I mean a 10:00 meal. That's another funny thing about my family. Even if Nana were to say that food would be ready at 12, people would still arrive at 9, because we just can't get enough of each other. So we get there at nine, for a realllly early lunch and we all watch Ace eat enough for a Spartan army. That boy sureee can eat. It does Nana's heart good to watch him.

So after a lunch (i.e. 15 min later) we usually go outside with the dozens of Cascarones that my uncle always brings from San Marcos. Since we have been little bitty we have enjoyed cracking confetti filled eggs over each others heads more than the actual egg hunt. It's a tribute to our Latino heritage- or at least Anabeth's. My favorite is when all the granddaughters crack the eggs over my Papa's head- the best part being that he's really just apathetic about it. Ace however, does. not. want. anyone. to. touch. his. hair. He might get over it this year though, since his Rapunzel locks have been shaved. Makes it much easier to brush the confetti away. Without a doubt I will still be picking confetti out of my hair in class on Tuesday morning.


The egg hunt is a sight to behold. Somehow Nana has accumulated approximately 300 eggs. But if I was to exaggerate I would guess it looks more like a thousand. She fills each and every one of them by herself every Easter- she's a saint. Once this large egg hunt was perfect because the double digit grandchildren were all competitive for the hunt. Now we have Tommy and Summer- who are the slowest egg hunters I have ever seen. So still have to go and pick up all the eggs that were laid out by the adults- even though we are now all way past egg hunting age. Good candy though.

This is all before noon.

So we will sit around for the next couple hours and just talk. My family is wonderful- I can't imagine another group of people who could sit around and just laugh and tell stories the way that we do. Someone should video us sometime- it's pretty frickin' hilarious.

Pretty soon people start dozin' off from the large meal, some go back to get more food and then we start heading home. All before Easter Sunday.

Easter Sunday at the Fuller's house is basically like seeing yours stockings on Christmas morning. Our Easter baskets are the coolest Easter baskets ever. They always have children's toys in them- namely Nerf guns, silly putty, bouncy balls. It never gets old- we revert back to our childhood for the few hours before Church in the morning.

The best part though, about the whole weekend, will be the time spent just with the Fullers. When my mom has all her kids home "in her nest", it will be a time to relax, tell stories (yet again) and really enjoy each other. Who knows- maybe Ace will show us some of that "nice" quality that mom keeps talking about.

Nice is Relative by Violet

First of all- when Ace got a scholarship for being nice- Anabeth and I literally gasped in disbelief. Don't let her fool you, Ace isn't nice- He's just really good at fooling people.

Second of all- My beautiful and wonderfully acerbic cousin Meredith- has pointed out that my mom and I do seem to get along way too well over blog text. I think it'll die down. We are just in the honeymoon phase of the blog, and we have so many pearls of wisdom to impart. The bitter reparte will come when we have nothing exciting left to report.

As queer and strange as a mother-daughter blog sounds- our back and forth banter in general is even worse. And by worse, I mean better. We talk at a speed heard only by some, and make references that don't even make sense to anyone else. I would flatter her by saying it is Gilmore-Girls-esque, but then she would object to being compared to such a selfish mother as Lorilei. And also to the having a baby out of wedlock party. I think the reason that we go back and forth so well is that we are both neurotic and think that everyone wants to hear what we have to say. That isn't a negative thing, we REALLY do think that everyone wants to hear what we have to say. Why wouldn't they?

It's also funny what my mom says about the nice comment. I think she tells us to "be nice" when we depart- because she doesn't want us to be like her. We've talked about this one before, you can call my mom alot of things- funny, smart, quick, beautiful- but she doesn't get nice or sweet much. Nothing wrong with that at all- but we think it's because she's such a strong and "let my opinions be heard" woman. roar. Nice matters- but nice is relative. She treats people with uptmost respect- but they often see the fun and sarcastic side of her, so "nice" doesn't even come to mind as a characterizable attribute. But "Hella Fun" sure does.

Because Nice Matters.

Everyday as my children go off to school and begin their day I chase after them with kindly reminders...."Be nice, Be safe and I love you". Some might say that I needn't remind them of that everyday. I say you can never tell them often enough.

It wasn't until my elder son, Ace's senior year that he finally would turn to me as I followed him out the door and say, " What do think I am going to do, be MEAN to everyone I see?" Well,at least,I know that he heard me. No, I certainly don't expect for him to be anything other than nice to others. He was raised to respect others and be kind in all situations. But I have lived a little longer than he has and I know that there are a lot of people out in the world who are not easy to be nice to. And a lot of people in the world who will not be nice to him...his natural instinct will be to retaliate with something less than kindness. I remind him to "Be Nice" because nice matters.

Manners are a big part of niceness. Respect others' feelings and space. Be a gentleman always, not just in the present of ladies. Open doors, stand when a lady enters the room, give the elderly their due respect. Yes, ma'am. No, sir. Be nice.

Ace had an exceptionally good senior year of high school last year. He was successful in several areas of his life. He accomplished many of the goals that he had set for himself. He generally was on top of the world, and felt that he deserved the honor and respect of the entire universe...as most seniors do. Can I hear an amen from the senior moms' corner?

So with this overinflated senior confidence I felt the need to instruct him further on what "nice" really means. I spent his entire senior year constantly reciting my definitions of "nice". Nice is helping the person less fortunate than yourself. Nice is doing something for someone without receiving praise or acknowledgement. Nice is diverting the conversation to someone else when others need the attention more. Nice is doing for others in just the same way that you would want others to do for you.

Ace is a nice guy. All of his life, school teachers, Sunday School teachers, and friends would tell me what a nice kid he was. In preschool he would stay by a disabled student's wheelchair throughout the entire recess to hold his hand and comfort him because the student cried and missed his mother. What a beautiful image to have of my 6'4" son.

When he is home this weekend from college for Easter Break, I am sure that there will be more than one quarrel or disagreement with one or more of his siblings. When the screams begin, I will simply find a quiet place in my home and remember the beautiful image of my son in preschool "being nice" to a fellow classmate.

And sometimes being nice has its rewards. As a graduating senior, Ace was selected by the faculty of his high school to receive a scholarship for citizenship. As he cashed the check that was awarded with this distinction, he replied, "Who knew, that being nice mattered?" Well...momma knew and has been telling you every day of your life. Because Nice Matters.

I think that we are hilarious..... if you don't believe me, just ask me!

Okay....the people that know my older daughter and I have requested to hear more of the "banter" that they witness when they experience Violet and I in the flesh (which is quite an experience, I must say!). They say that we are more acerbic and testy when together and seem to not get along as well as this blog may represent. Far be it from me to ever misrepresent anything. Remember, we are a family of storytellers. We embellish everything...truth be damned.

I love my daughter and I tell her so at the end of every meeting and conversation that I have with her. I have truly never thought of us as acerbic or testy. Mmmmmmmmm. I consider us to be funny, hilarious and down right entertaining. We play off of each other verbally like Crosby and Hope or Abbott and Costello. We take turns being the straight guy and can each develop a story and hit the punchline with precision.

"To see ourselves as others see us" (Burns). Do we appear differently to others than we think we do? Does that include relationships with family members? I don't think that one would consider what we do as fighting, but outsiders might interpret me as an overbearing, controlling mother and her as spoiled, perfectionistic twenty something. It could be worse, they could see Violet as an overbearing and controlling daughter and me as a spoiled, perfectionistic fifty something. You can see how seriously I am taking this...and myself.

I think that it must be natural at this point in Violet's maturation to question extensively my motives for advice to her. Ok, I get it....so at any moment she can stop asking my advice and deal with her own consequences. She knows this. And she is continually frustrated that I am not raising her younger siblings in the (strict, controlling) manner that I apparently raised her. I admit that I have gotten a little lax in my parenting. Although I contend that my subsequent children are better kids and require less discipline and structure than my first child.

I kinda wish that we could do the ole Freaky Friday switch and walk at least one mile in each other's shoes for just one day. I know that I would have a blast being in my carefree twenties again...except for the graduate school exams, demanding clerkships, and late nights. And she might enjoy the quiet respite of my retiring middle aged life....except for the 8-5 career, carpools, school activities, household responsibilities, and fear of doing something devastatingly damaging to my children's psyches that might result in a child being incarcerated or institutionalized.

All of this to say, I am confident in my relationship with my older daughter. I know that she loves and appreciates me for who I am and she knows that I love and appreciate her for who she is.

If you don't believe me, just ask to see the signed statement and non-compete contract that I forced her to sign.