A Day in the Life

Leonardo DiCaprio: I'm still pissed. Netflix: You are not far behind.

2012-02-10T06:25:00.000-08:00

So, you might know we got Netflix shortly after Santa brought us the Wii. Now, I realize the rest of the living world has probably had Netflix for about 20 years, but it's new to us. I am still a little amazed that I can flick on the TV (well, not really me, but the 10 year old boy because I have yet to learn how to use the Wii or Netflix on my own) and find an array of movies right there that I might want to see. (Let me just say now that, among other things, Netflix furthers my attempts to never have to dress or bathe.)

You might be thinking to yourself, "This is a good thing, right? How can it go south?" Well, that's what I am here to tell you. Here, my friends, is how Netflix can go wrong.

As a preface to this post I should probably tell you that since I was born I have been notoriously bad at picking movies. I just suck. I could blame my horrible memory, but that's not really fair. I think it's just in my blood. Often times I will hear a review of a movie that sounds just fabulous and 1. I really screw up the name of the movie and instead rent it's B counterpart, or 2. I actually rent the correct movie only to find the person who reviewed it was apparently on hallucinogenic drugs that caused him or her to think it was a great movie. Hubby knows this about me and tolerates it (but not without making comments about it occasionally when he's been forced to watch some movie worse than the sit-com Whitney).

Fast forward to us getting Netflix. The first movie I watched was The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. I am not being paid to say this, but I should be. That was an awesome movie. Fabulous acting, intriguing plot, and suspenseful to the end. Despite that, my faith in my movie picking ability was restored with one movie! I know, too good to be true.

Then my second pick was Creepshow 2 circa 1980s based on the book by Stephen King. Now, I love Steven King and I may have been confusing Creepshow 2 with the original Creepshow (which I think was actually a pretty good movie). Plus, my love for Stephen King may have influenced my pick. I have read quite a few of his books and of the movies adaptations I remember I loved Misery, Christine, Shining, The Green Mile. Well, let me just say that Creepshow 2 is quite possibly The Worst Movie Ever Made Based on a Stephen King Book. In my mind (and I am pretty sure hubby's) I was demoted back to Worst Movie Picker Ever.

It looks like it could be good, right? Apparently looks can be deceiving.

THEN I picked Shutter Island. I remembered that when that movie came out in 2010 (because I am still watching Must Sees from the 1900's) I really wanted to see it. Well, this is how bad it is. I fell asleep more than twice, woke up, continued watching and still was able to understand the plot. Not only is it a horrible movie, it is like a train wreck. You so want to look away, but something compels you to keep watching. When the ending credits rolled I was shocked and bitter to learn Martin Scorcese is the director?! In a nutshell: plot that's been used a million times, bad acting, lighting that's tough for people over *30*, and scary people on par with Creepshow.  So, let me just say - had it been circa 1980 it could have beat Creepshow 2 for the Bad Movie Oscar.

The thing that angers me the most is that I should have known better. I really am not a DiCaprio fan. In fact, I'm kind of an un-fan. I'm still kinda angry about Titanic. Not really the movie itself, but how much I had to hear about it after the movie. Y'know? I could be one of about 20 people that hated Titanic. You already know how it ends and that takes away half the fun. And then there was Inception. I fell sound asleep after taking a bathroom break and coming back to be lost as hell. Revolutionary Road. Didn't even see it, but the trailers made me gag. I thought I had remembered all of the reasons why I do not care for DiCaprio and then hubby reminded me of What's Eating Gilbert Grape. Hubby pointed out that that was a truly great movie. I reminded hubby that it was because Leon had Johnny Depp to pull him through.

I wasted two hours and eighteen minutes of my life that I cannot get back. I finally went to bed after midnight and was grumpy and groggy all the next day.  Bottom line: I'm still pissed. It's going to take me a while to get over this one. My movie recommendation (thank me later) - if you have two hours and eighteen minutes of free time this weekend do not watch DiCaprio and be cautious with Netflix. Happy weekend and may all your movie picks be winners!

To read or not to read. It's not a question.

2012-02-09T06:16:00.000-08:00

Disclaimer: This is a paid review for BlogHer Book Club but the opinions expressed are my own.

How do you know you loved a book? For me, it's when I finish reading the book and actually forget I am done. I still look forward to stealing and savoring a few moments, opening the book at my well-worn book marker, and reading what happens next. When I remember that I finished the book I briefly mourn this fact and momentarily hate the author for not continuing the book a few more chapters. Finally, after a few days, I can remember that I am DONE with the book and rather than be sad and hateful I can just bask in the fact that I have finished another great book! That's what happened to me with this book.

If you have not read The Weird Sisters by Eleanor Brown, I recommend it. Since you can easily find previews and reviews of this book anywhere on the net, I am going to give you a book review in list form! Here it goes.

Why I think you will not be disappointed with The Weird Sisters

1. Eleanor Brown uses the uncommon "first person plural" for the voice of the novel. Yeah, I wasn't sure what that was either. So, if it's been a while since you were in an English class, let me just tell you that this is a voice which allows for narration by various characters (one at a time) while also using "we" in the midst of that narration. Huh? Just know that this is the perfect voice for a story about a family because it reminds the reader that in a family we are each our own voice, but we also speak for our collective nature and memories. AND, you end up with some beautifully structured sentiments such as the ones in this paragraph speaking about the mother's breast cancer: "It must be so strange, Rose thought. We had never made much trade in our breasts, small as they were on all of us, but to lose one? Or both? And our mother's breasts, the ones that had fed us, against which we had cried when we were young. Oh, it was selfish of us to think it, but we missed them as well."

2. The book is funny in the face of some dauntingly serious topics: cancer, pregnancy before marriage, adultery, theft. And some less daunting but still serious topics: love, marriage, motherhood, fathering. I found the humor in the contemporary use of language and style which I love because it felt hip and current and yet not overtly so as if it was written by a teenager.

3. I thought at first that the Shakespearean quotes would be too much for me. I am no Shakespeare guru and its been about 25 years since I've read anything by Shakespeare. So, it's amazing that I found the quotes quite delightful. The father of the girls has made Shakespeare his life and speaks almost entirely in Shakespearean quotes. I was pleasantly surprised to see the evolution (in my mind) of this character from "crazy bat" to loving and invested father.

4. I think this book will resonate with many. I don't think you have to be a sister to enjoy this novel (as the title might lead you to believe). I am the youngest of seven incredibly close sisters, and I spent the first half of the book trying to figure out with which sister I identified. I came along "late" in life for my mother and therefore was raised essentially as an only child, but I could not imagine any of my sisters having such deep seated resentment for my other sisters (as the sisters in the novel seem to have toward each other). So, much of the first part of the book I spent thinking about how incredible their relationships were. Then I spent the second half of the book being incredibly sad. I couldn't figure out why I was so sad. After all - it's not the saddest book I've ever read. I know now that I was sad because I had a glimpse into what might happen to my young family (my three daughters). I could not stop thinking about their relationships with each other, what they will remember, how it will affect them for forever. I was profoundly affected by this realization. This is the first novel I have read involving a family with grown children where I identified strongly with the mother character. Now, it could be because I am getting as old as the hills (I prefer to think that's not the reason), or it could be because Eleanor Brown has an uncanny ability to put the reader into the novel (yeah, that's what it is). Either way, this was both extremely sad for me and simultaneously gave me great hope. It's changed the way I will view my childrens' relationships (and that is a sign of a great book!).

5. Although the novel focuses on three sisters, there is a beautiful love story on which the novel is written. That back story is the love of the father and mother for each other. We learn that this is not a love without struggles and differences, but it is a love that has endured the test of time. This made me think of my parents' love for each other. Their marriage was 6o+ (I don't do details too well) years old when my mother passed away and I am sure it was not without struggles, arguments, worry over their children, but beneath it all - profound love for each other. I don't think many people find love like that. I am not usually a sucker for romance and I don't usually cry, but this paragraph brought me to tears and made my heart smile: "...We have always wondered why there is not more research done on the children of happy marriages. Our parents' love is not some grand passion, there are no swoons of lust, no ball gowns and tuxedos, but here is the truth: they have not spent a night apart since the day they married. How can we ever hope to find a love to live up to that?"

I will refrain from commenting about the ending because I hope you put this on your Must Read list. Should you be interested, here is a link to an awesome book club and book review group.

http://www.blogher.com/bookclub/now-reading-weird-sisters

That's my list and I wish you happy reading!

Cookies, Part II

2012-02-05T09:45:00.000-08:00

So, some of you know that I went a little out of my comfort zone in December and attended a cookie decorating class. I have always loved to decorate cookies, but (because I am a slacker) I never really kept learning new techniques. Instead I relied on age-old methods that I am pretty sure originated with the pioneers and that I think I learned in childhood (?). At my cookie class I learned about royal icing, dragees (French word for "small balls"), and frosting bags. Some might say I was a *little* proud of myself after the class and some might even say I was smug.

Then, I tried everything I learned at home a few weeks after that. Note: There was no blog post about that, no pictures were posted on Facebook, and I did not "pin" any of it. Why? Because it was a royal disaster. All of my pride dissolved in a few seconds of runny icing that was some shade of black?

But, because I believe in learning from my mistakes (I'll excuse you while you vomit), here's what I learned: 1. It's easier when someone else makes the icing and puts it in the bag for you. 2. It's easier when someone brings lots of gorgeous, perfect samples from which you can get ideas. 3. It's easier when someone also brings all the proper equipment needed. 4. It's easier to leave all the mess there and have someone else clean it up. 5. It's easier when four small people are not asking you what the heck they are supposed to be doing (and you don't really know what to tell them).

Fast forward to today. I got brave (or - we all know the synonym for brave) and decided we needed to give it a second go and make Valentine's Day cookies using all the techniques I had learned way back in December. I was ready to abandon whatever pride I had left (for the kids).

Here's how they came out.

Valentines Day Cookies 2012

So, I'm not a total idiot. I realize the O's are lopsided and much of the royal icing is royally askew. I know people (no matter how much they wanted to support me) would never pay money for these. Subsequently, any dreams I might have had of owning a famous cookie shop are still dashed. BUT, these look a hell of a lot better than the black Santas and dead Christmas trees we had last time.

You could say I am now a little smug. Happy Superbowl Sunday! Try to stay on your diets. Just kidding! Eat like there's no tomorrow! I know I will be. Then I'll be snacking on the delicious morsels above for dessert.

How To Clean A House....in Twenty-One Easy Steps

2012-02-03T09:19:00.000-08:00

The house cleaner (who I depend on a *little* more than I should) cancelled today. So, momma (that would be me) had to pick up a toilet brush.

How To Clean A House....in Twenty-One Easy Steps

1. Decide to start with the bathrooms since presumably they are the nastiest.
2. Move all of your cleaning supplies into the bathroom.
3. After looking at the floor corners of the bathroom and the rotted baseboard under the sink, realize you might feel better about cleaning if you start with something "easier" like lightly dusting (the kind that requires no actual moving of knickknacks) the living room before attempting something actually dirty like the bathroom.
4. Go to get the Pledge.
5. Realize you are out of Pledge. Blame the house cleaner (even though she has never stolen - not even money when its been left haphazardly on the counter) and curse under your breath.
6. Skip the dusting and go back to the bathroom.
7. Realize this task is going to take a "tasty beverage."
8. Check the clock and realize it is too early for a beer. Curse again (under your breath).
9. Brew some yummy raspberry tea and sit down for a short rest.
10. After brewing the tea, go to add some ice. Realize you don't have ice because someone left the freezer door open all night and everything (ice included) in the ancient freezer defrosted. Curse - this time not under your breath - and briefly wonder if your family will die from food poisoning later when you cook all the defrosted meat. Curse again - loudly - at this thought.
11. Drink some kinda yummy tea with no ice.
12. Go back and assess the state of the dirty bathroom.
13. Decide (spur of the moment) that this is going to take some elbow grease. So, you better go work out.
14. Work-out.
15. Check your texts and messages to make sure the house cleaner has not texted or called to say she is on her way.
16. Curse again (loudly and angrily) when you see she has not communicated.
17. Go back to the bathroom.
18. Lament the fact that cleaning takes entirely too long and too much energy. Reaffirm your belief in house cleaners.
19. Spray down everything in the bathroom (floors included), (with cleaners that have warnings not to mix them) so that you can come back later and just wipe everything down.
20. Get another glass of luke warm tea and plop yourself in front of the computer to "research" new fridges.
21. Make a firm decision (after wiping down the one downstairs bathroom) that you need a new fridge and the rest of the house can wait to be cleaned (either till you get more energy, or the house cleaner actually comes over) while you devise a way to tell hubby (possibly through a blog post?) that you want a new fridge.

That's just the way I do it. Obviously, I am not a professional. Hope it helps! Have a great (hopefully cleaning-free) weekend!

Unicorn as profession of the gifted? Yeah, I have my doubts, too.

2012-02-02T07:37:00.000-08:00

So, lately the three year old has been front and center in this family in terms of sociopathic behavior. She may have oppositional defiant syndrome, she may have split personalities, she may have visions, and she might be delusional. The jury is still out.

I don't think any of my older kids ever had imaginary friends. I think the three year old does. The friend's name is Elisa. Here is what I know about her: she is "like a princess," she lives in a castle, her parents are never mean, her parents never spank her, she can eat cookies and candies whenever she wants, she spends a lot of time on the Wii, she is around five years old, she has a brother (sometimes), and she goes to school (sometimes). Here are the details that are sketchy: how my daughter met Elisa, where Elisa actually lives (What is her castle near?), whether or not anyone else in our family knows Elisa, and whether or not we could sometime in the future meet Elisa.

Currently Girl 3 plans parties for Elisa, she talks about her like she was alive and real, she obsesses on Elisa's family, and she often spends more time talking about Elisa than about us (her real family).

Because I was mildly concerned about this new obsession, I extensively researched imaginary friends (via status updates on Facebook), and here is what I have learned: imaginary friends are common and quite hilarious, I'm frankly surprised this is not more stand-up comedy fodder, some kids have gone to great lengths to give their friends fascinating details, in the history of man imaginary friends have taken the rap for everything from eating the last cookie to skipping school, having imaginary friends may be psycho-babble for sorting out issues within your own family (blech), and kids who have imaginary friends *might* have significantly higher IQs than kids that don't. All in all my research showed: Good news? I guess? Don't analyze my family? My last kid is clearly a genius or if anything WAY smarter than the others? I should be happy? Right?

Well, here is where I am skeptical. Let me take you back a few days ago when baby and I were in the grocery store check-out line. A delightful older gentleman was in line behind us and was chuckling as baby was loudly belting out B-I-N-G-O while asking me a million questions far beyond her level (one of them being the purpose of Feminine Products). This tolerant (possibly hard of hearing) older man asked her her name and how old she was to which she responded appropriately and with remarkable gusto. He then asked her if she knew her ABCs. She belted out a good 19 out of 26 letters and he clapped when she was "done." He then commented to me, "You have a smart cookie on your hands."

Trust me, I did not get excited. I was born at night, but not last night. Plus, I have three older children. So, I know better than to get excited when someone compliments my childrens' intelligence or behavior. The compliment only means that they will immediately do something so ridiculously stupid (pick their nose and eat it, loudly ask an incredibly nonsensical question, slug their sibling in the nose, fart and then laugh, etc.) that it will cause you to leave them behind at whatever public place you happen to be. Therefore, I just smiled silently.

He then turned to baby and enthusiastically said, "YOU ARE SO SMART! What are you going to be when you grow up?"

To which baby (grinning a wildly psychotic grin) equally enthusiastically shouted, "I AM GOING TO BE A UNICORN WHEN I GROW UP!!! WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO BE WHEN YOU GROW UP???"

Kids with imaginary friends *might* be smarter? Someone save us.

2012 we had a good run!

2012-01-31T19:55:00.000-08:00

It's January 31, y'all! It kinda snuck up on me. One minute I was bitching about how many freaking days were in January??? and the next thing I know it's the last day!!! It seems a tributary list is in order. This is not my idea. I blame Michael Feldman for this one. He did a listener call-in for the best of 2012 in a show that ran here a few weeks ago. So, if you don't like this post - it's not really my fault.

Reasons why 2012 was the best year ever.

1. I did not get the flu and die.
2. No one in my family got the flu requiring me to nurse them to health like Florence Nightingale.
3. All of my major home appliances are in working order.
4. We did not buy a dog. Or a cat.
5. The suicidal bird that has been trying to die on my bedroom window is recovering slowly from his depression (he senses the end of January is near).
6. I kept one of my resolutions..........I think............what were my resolutions?
7. I bought a chore chart that my kids are taking seriously (if you don't count the fact that the three year old considers getting up and eating good chores that should be rewarded).
8. Our family now gets Netflix.
9. I gave up coffee. Then I started drinking coffee again (a few minutes later).
10. I had jello shots on my birthday!

Happy New Month, y'all! Let's make it a good one!

Does this blog make my butt look big? Or, Rachel Ray needs my kids.

2012-01-30T06:32:00.000-08:00

I am battling the bulge lately. Seems everywhere I turn there are things that make me fat.....like my fat. Here are just some things that confuse me and/or cause me to wonder about eating healthy and staying fit.

1. Exercise - especially rigorous exercise for one hour a day - makes me want to eat like a horse for the other 11 hours in the day. And not really fruit and veggies. More like thick, juicy burgers and greasy fries.

2. Rachel Ray can cook all that yummy looking food supposedly in 30 minutes because she doesn't have to plan the meal, shop for the meal, prep the meal, and cook the meal while also: wiping a three year old's butt (sorry, just speakin' the truth), breaking up a fist fight, responding to an email marked urgent that apparently has been in my inbox for a week, and monitoring Wii time.

3. Some of my favorite food blogs, like Rufus, often call for items that I am not familiar with nor do I have any idea where to buy. For example: rutabaga, prosciutto, turnip greens, coconut milk, etc.

4. I want to watch a cooking show starring a lady that has four kids - I suggest ages 10, 8, 7, and 3 - all having their eating idiosyncrasies. During the show the kids are with her the entire time she is doing anything involving feeding this TV family. And then if she is successful I want her show to be cancelled.

5. Although hubby and I are foodies and will pretty much eat anything that's not nailed down, our kids are a mixed batch. The boy child eats like us. His tastes range from sushi to greasy burgers. He's not too keen on fruits, though, but will eat a wide range of veggies. Girl 1 would eat this all day everyday if left alone: pancakes, sweets, chocolate, fruit, bread, and raw sugar. Girl 2 eats a wide range of things, although she fiercely avoids tomatoes, onions, and peppers if she can identify them (1. Isn't that the Holy Trinity? and 2. Did I ever tell you we are Mexican American???). Girl 3 must sniff and pull apart everything she eats. Although she would eat sushi, tuna, and hummus daily, she will avoid peanut butter like the plague.

6. I think every time a fitness guru says, "It is a myth that you can tone your abs by ab exercises alone. It requires core training." an angel eats a donut.

7. I *might* be developing a healthy relationship with my muffin top.

8. I *might* not want toned abs as much as I want to eat yummy food and enjoy tasty beverages.

9. I've googled things like "tasty and healthy recipes," and I am just suspicious. In other words, the recipes usually wear me out. If it takes me five minutes to read and understand the recipe, frankly I don't want to cook it.

10. I have been hearing a lot about food allergies and it makes me infinitely thankful that - so far - my kids have none. If they did they would starve and I would shoot myself.

That's what I've been thinking about. Off to work-out for one hour, then eat like a horse, then prep for a lasagna recipe that I got off the back of the box! Happy Monday, friends. Try to stay fit. Or, don't try. I totally understand either way.

Keep your head down and walk quickly.

2012-01-24T08:36:00.000-08:00

So, if you are a "regular" you know that I have had some recent testing done on my womanly parts (the ones up high, not the ones down low and immediately after typing that I realize I could have selected a much more accurate description since I have birthed and breastfed four wee ones). This (and my excessive procrastination) has kept me away from posting for a few days. I thought I would check-in, let you know I am still here, and give you just a few tips I have learned should you find yourself in my situation later (you're welcome). Call it Radiology Protocol I learned from recent trips to the radiologist. Here it goes:

Radiology Protocol For Dummies (no offense)

1. Listen carefully (wear a hearing aid if you have to). The radiologist that I went to (I have only ever been there possibly under 10 times in my whole life) is extremely crowded every time I go. There is one receptionist, and she *might* feel the strain of having such a stressful job. I learned the lesson about listening carefully with both my ears this last trip there when I did not hear what she said to me so I politely said, "Excuse me?" Then she said rather loudly, "ARE YOU HERE FOR A PAIN IN YOUR BREAST AND A MAMMOGRAM???" Yes, that would be me.

2. While you are in the waiting room, try not to make eye contact with anyone because you might meet them later backstage when you only have a hospital gown on. This can be awkward to say the least.

3. You will probably be told to remove some articles of your clothing and then join the tech with your "valuables" so that he/she can escort you to the x-ray room. Think carefully about this. I was told I could leave my clothes in the dressing room and just take my purse. Now, after thinking about this a little I cannot see how this makes sense. Would I rather have my purse stolen, but be fully clothed, or have my UNDERWEAR and CLOTHES stolen, but have my purse???

4. When you are waiting in the dressing room with nothing but a hospital gown on be careful to close the curtain. There will be a few people wandering about (also with hospital gowns on) and one of them might accidentally make eye contact with you.

5. When you are undergoing any kind of ultrasound you will have a goo liberally applied to your skin that is similar to whale blubber. You will be given one nonabsorbent paper towel to clean your entire body with before dressing again. Pay attention to where the tech places the roll before he/she exits the room because you are going to need the whole roll. And then you will still find goo on yourself when you are back in the dressing room putting your clothes back on.

6. A tech will probably come back to your dressing room to escort you out of the building. I suspect this is for the privacy of all the people who are still in gowns and might be embarrassed of some lost clothed person wandering around wondering where the hell the exit is. When you exit the building, again, follow the tech, and pay attention once they leave you with mere directions. Radiologists apparently is a French word that means likes mazes. And, if you do not follow the left, right, left, another right, past the Radiology Starbucks directions you will end up accidentally startling gowned people for a LONG time.

That's all I got for now, bloggy peeps. I hope you are surviving January. Keep your chins up! Only SEVEN more days to go!

Don't give me a toothbrush. It's for your own safety.

2012-01-20T06:02:00.000-08:00

I had planned on bringing you a Happy Birthday To Me post today about the woman who married her iPhone and then gave birth (I read that on a grocery store check-out mag. They're all true, right?), but that fantastic and terrifying post is going to have to wait. This post is hot off the press and includes the following disclosure:

Please excuse any typos, grammatical errors, and just plain $hit that don't make sense in this post because it is being sent from my decaffeinated brain.

So besides the usual awesomeness that is January, I have been dealing with some minor pain for the past few weeks.

Without violating any HIPAA regulations or sending you to poke your eyes out with sharp sticks, let's just say I've had an unusual pain that's made me want to wear a metal bra and not engage in any hugging that involves people whose heads come up to my "chest" area lately. I had said "pain" checked out first with a delightful mammogram and then yesterday with a visit to my friendly and competent M.D.

Turns out I have a condition that although it requires further tests, appears benign and harmless. Of course, I am imminently grateful and happy about this news. That's the good news. Here's the bad news. My doctor was going over the results of my mammogram and examination. When I asked what the treatment for my condition was she said simply, "Well, we'll have to wait until the further testing is done, but it can usually be managed with dietary adjustments." It was when I said, "Like what?" that she *may* have looked like the devil. She asked, "Well, do you consume a lot of caffeine?" Of course like any person faced with a threatening doctor who is looking more and more like the devil, I lied and said (or more like gulped), "Yeah. A little." She then delivered the horrifying news, "Well, you might have to give that up."

In case you don't know me, let me just say - I love coffee. We have a long and strong relationship. Here are the reasons why I love coffee: 1. I love coffee. 2. There are only three things I love as much as coffee - beer, dark chocolate, and Pinterest (Oh, wait. Did I forget God, my hubby, and my kids? Yes? Oh, well.), and 3. Coffee is my BFF. So, when my usually friendly doctor said I might have to give that up it was kind of like she said, "Well, you might have to cut off your right arm."

This news came yesterday around 4:30 p.m. and I decided to plunge right in and go cold turkey. I have a good friend with whom I texted back and forth about my new challenge. Because we have worked out the details (such as who will be my sponsor and the fact that I will probably need an actual 12 step program), I wanted to share this with you. This *might* become a huge part of my blogging - my journey through rehab!

If I was technology competent (or possibly had a fertile iPhone) I would insert our actual text screens right now. Since I can't do that, I am just going to type out what we texted and you will get the picture (no pun intended). Please excuse the typos (it is TEXT after all), and I have crossed out the irrelevant or self-incriminating parts (thank me later, friend).

Me: ~~stolen K-cups.~~ bad news: I *may* have 2 make a "dietary adjustment" 2 help w soreness....GIVE UP CAFFEINE. SAY WHATTHEF???

Friend: Oh dear gawd! Plze don't say u have to quit booze, too?!?

Me: no. i didn't even ASK. but, there goes the new keurig.

Friend: What about coffee benefits, like depression, heart disease, sanity, ~~the health and safety of others around you~~?!? De-caf? Hot cocoa? Do you need a 12 step to take you down slowly?

Me: Hello, my name is Mxnxca.

Friend: I'll sponsor you! ~~But only if I can score some free coffee at the meetings.~~

Me: God grant me the serenity to change the people I can and ignore the rest. Amen.

Friend: ~~Can i pin that?~~

Me: ~~Yes, but you have to pay me the royalties.~~

Friend: ~~Once you quit coffee, you'll have tons of extra money.~~

Me: ~~We are so clever we should be famous.~~

Friend: I'll be the "source close" to you when you go AWOL from coffee rehab. "yes, we all knew it would be hard for her, but we didn't expect her to assault the nurse with her toothbrush. it may be time for a true intervention."

So, that's my birthday story, bloggy friends. After finishing this post I have decided that since I have such a long journey ahead of me, I am going to start rehab tomorrow. Right now I am going to brew myself a nice hazelnut blend! Technically is this my first relapse? I say "no" since I haven't really started yet! So, have a great weekend and wish me luck............tomorrow!

SOPA (and I ain't talkin' mexican soup here)

2012-01-18T11:55:00.000-08:00

For the truth about the dangers of SOPA from one of the best bloggers ever you can click here.

If you are still not convinced to say ,"no to SOPA," you can get some more facts here .

A Post For A Friend or Pinterest for Dummies (no offense)

2012-01-18T06:18:00.000-08:00

This post if for my good friend over at Cyberbones because she is having some trouble. I feel I owe her a lot for eternity because: 1. She taught me a lot of parenting truths (not what you read in all those damn books), and 2. She forced me (literally kicking and screaming - mostly obscenities, and mostly at her) into reading blogs and then blogging when she decided to move to another continent (without me) and started a blog so that she wouldn't go insane keeping up with everyone.

So, her trouble right now is navigating my addiction (knowing how to Pin on Pinterest). So, I am paying her back for all her wisdom (I know, it's not really fair - she taught me to parent and I am teaching her how to do Pinterest. Blah, blah, blah. Life isn't fair.) I made it super easy and have broken it down into a list! My list is not numbered because I am not that organized and because of that whole teach a man to fish thing.

"YOUR timeline on Facebook" on Pinterest is kind of here: Do the drop down menu under your name and picture and click on "Boards." That's kind of your "home base." In other words, that shows YOU. If it's empty mostly that means you need to waste some time and start pinning ~~crap~~ stuff.
When you are "surfing" looking for cool stuff you will need to click on the red Pinterest. That will bring up what people are pinning - kind of like Home on Facebook.
Download the pinning button to your computer so that you can pin anything that is cool, insane, funny, delicious, etc. To find directions on how to do this go to: About -> Pin It Button. Then follow the directions there and try it out by pinning something you see online.
Pin other people's pins. So, when you login to Pinterest you will see a bunch of things other people have pinned. If you see something you like, hover over it. A "Like," "Repin," and "Comment" button will pop up at the top of the picture. Click Like to let the person who pinned it know that you liked it (common courtesy), then click "Repin" if you want to repin it.
Create at least a few "boards" by going to Add and then Create a Board. You will need a basic board name for this board. For example, if you want to pin a bunch of yummy stuff to eat, you might name your board "My Big Butt" (just a suggestion). Then Pinterest will ask you categorize your board so that other pinners will be able to easily access what you have pinned (not rocket science - just use the drop down menu). You will think of a bunch of boards you want to create once you become addicted. Then you will probably have too many and have to consolidate. Don't worry. That's NORMAL. Everyone goes through it!
Follow everyone! Follow me! You can do this by either clicking my icon right here on my blog, or you can find me on Pinterest. The way you follow other (less important) people is by: hovering over your name (Which should be in the upper right-hand corner of your screen. If it's not - you totally screwed up and I cannot help you.) and wait for the drop down menu. Click on Find Friends. This will lead you to your Facebook friends and then click on those of them that are on Pinterest. OR you can search for a "person" in the upper left hand corner of Pinterest.
Repeat bullet number 2 (I realize that's confusing - sue me) till your eyes go blurry, your kids are weak with hunger, you look at the clock and 12 hours have passed, or you try to pin something real in your house.
Remember to have fun with it! It is only virtual and it's SUPPOSED to be fun!

That's my list, Cyberbones. I hope you like it and that you learned something. Now GO WASTE SOME TIME!

My kids may not take me seriously.

2012-01-17T15:53:00.000-08:00

Santa in his infinite wisdom brought the kids a Wii for Christmas and frankly that thing drives me nuts. First of all, I am a control freak. Yes, I said it. I'm not a control freak in all areas of my life (well, I make myself feel good by saying that), but when it comes to what my kids are doing - I am a little psycho. I can't stand them mindlessly playing video games (of any kind) while there is: laundry to be done, a kitchen to be cleaned, food to be cooked, a floor to be cleaned, or a carpet to be vacuumed. It makes me a little irritated. So, tonight I reached my wits end and decided to make another chore chart (we've had approximately 100 chore charts in our lives because I am inconsistent and a slacker mom). This one was to be entitled Technology Usage Chore Chart (not as daunting as it sounds - apparently).

My charts are not power point material. They are more on par with a kindergartner's presentation. For example, I made the chart with recycled paper and a thick black Sharpie (because I couldn't find a decent pen). The columns read (as far as I can remember): Make beds, fold blankets, put all lovies on beds, put clean clothes neatly away, practice piano, do homework. So, when I finished showing the kids my masterpiece and explaining all the intricacies of what must be accomplished in order for them to use technology (Wii and iTouches) here is what happened:

Boy Child: Um, mom, is there going to be a Q and A?

Me: Huh?

Boy (snickering): Mom, do you know what Q and A means? Without giving anyone a chance to answer. It means Question and Answer!

Wild laughing amongst all the children.

Me: Okay. Right. Do you guys have any questions?

Girl 1: Are we allowed to fold the blankets into origami cats?

Me (Quickly realizing I *might* be losing control.): Um. No.

Girl 2: Are we allowed to fold the blankets into triangles like they do flags? Because dad showed us how to do that one time. It's really hard, but he took the time to show us.

Me (Thank you, hubby, you are immensely helpful.): Um. No.

Girls 1 and 2: But, baby doesn't practice piano............or do homework.

Me: Fine. I'll cross those out.

Baby: YES I DO PRACTICE PIANO!!! AND I DO HOMEWORK.

Me: OKAY. Does everyone understand??? We start tomorrow. Are we all good with this???

Boy: Are we to the Q and A yet?

Me: YES for the love of God.

Boy: Okay. My question is - are you taking questions?

Again, collective snickering.

I may need to make another chart entitled Taking Mom Seriously.

My brain may have just figured out It's January.

2012-01-16T08:37:00.000-08:00

So, I am usually mildly depressed in January. Call it Seasonal Depression, Post-Christmas Blues, Whacked Out Mom-of-Four Syndrome, whatever. But, it's usually the case that in January I like to sit around in my jammies and think about everything sad. I know that's weird since January is such a fabulously jazzy month what with: post-Christmas finances, dreary disgusting weather, MLK Jr.'s march that we can never attend because someone is always napping and it's raining, my BIRTHDAY when my greatest fear (aging) is realized, and the days that end at 5:30 p.m. when all the kids are still WIDE AWAKE??? Surprising, but true. In the past, you might have known (not that you in any way should care) that I am in Mild Depression because I won't post or if I do it will all be about Death and Dying (yes, like Kubler-Ross).

This year I was sure I had kicked that nasty habit to the curb. I had my Happy Gal groove on.....for the first 13 days. Then it hit me. IT'S JANUARY. I am supposed to be in a Super Funk where I don't cook, clean, brush my teeth, or shower. What the heck am I doing wandering around like a normal functioning woman?

As soon as that "cat was out of the bag" it's like my brain said, "Shut down. Eat like a bear that's going into hibernation, refuse to talk to the children, and stay in your room." And, with a few exceptions (I am talking to the children - occasionally and upon emergency), that's where I've been for a few days.

That brings me to today. I decided it's time to take this bull by the horns and kick this thing. What better way to do that than to concentrate on what makes January great? So, here it goes. (If this works, this could be my meal ticket, and I *could* be a millionaire - as it seems there are few side effects to making list.)

The Great Things About January (don't worry, I could only think of 10 - and that was a stretch)

1. We are that much closer to Spring Break.
2. We will not face the pressures of the Christmas season for another 11 months.
3. The Golden Globe Awards are in January and we can make a list of movies that are supposedly good so that we might watch them sometime int he next 20 years.
4. There are lots of season premieres and it can feel almost like September.
5. There is the hope that shows like Whitney will be cancelled so that we won't have to accidentally stumble upon them and then be compelled to watch like a bad car crash.
6. There isn't a lot of pressure to shop for new clothes since it will be rainy, cold, and dreary for a good two months.
7. Even though I am faced with the fact of aging when my birthday rolls around, I do have a nice chance to score birthday booty (the accessory kind, not the other kind).
8. The kids are fairly content playing with their Christmas loot and less inclined to fight with each other.
9. January puts this irrational hope in the minds of my kids that it will snow (here in South Texas - where it's snowed a handful of times...ever), they will be able to make a snowman, ice skate, and have a snow day. This irrational hope keep them excited and eager well into the fourth week of the month.

And probably the best thing about January:
10. We are already halfway through and just 15 days away from FEBRUARY.

Well, that was worthless. It turns out January does suck. (I won't quit the day job.) Try to keep your happy face on and if you can't do that, at least wash your jammies and hunker down. We only have 15 more days to get through!!!

UGH! In which my kid throws a fit for being good.

2012-01-13T06:51:00.000-08:00

I will preface this by saying: My kids are weird. They are from Uranus (I've always wanted to work that into a blog post, so congratulations to me!) and hubby and I are not from Uranus (thankfully).

I don't usually write about Girl 2 because there is not a whole lot to say. I love her as much as I love all the others, but she's fairly "easy." I can trace this "ease" back to when she first popped out and didn't ever cry. Since I was used to the Boy and his, shall we say, unique personality, and Girl 1 who cried The First Sixteen Months of Her Life And Then A Whole Lot, I was immediately alarmed by Girl 2. While I was enjoying my two day quiet recovery from giving birth, I mentioned my concern to a nurse at the hospital and she laughed and said, "Baby, do you have other kids?" When I said I had two others who cried 24/7 for all reasons or sometimes no reasons she said, "Well, it looks like you finally got lucky!"

Now, lucky was probably ambitious. But, I must say of all my kids, Girl 2 is probably the most easy-going. She's a lot like hubby. They roll with the punches for a long time and then either blow-up, or become extremely agitated for No Good Reason. What follows is an example of the latter.

Example of a Blow-Up for No Good Reason

There is a lovely Reward System at the kids' school called Caught You Being Good. If you have kids, you might be familiar with this reward system since it dates back to Tyrannosaurus Rex and Baby T-Rex and is more American than apple pie. (I got that from Wikipedia, so I am sure it's true.) If you are not familiar with this system, it's pretty easy to learn. The kids act "good" and if they are randomly seen by an adult doing anything "good" they get a ticket that says, "Caught You Being Good!" It's not like going to Disneyland, but oddly the kids seem highly motivated by this system (which is probably why it has survived the Roman Inquisition, the plague, the Trail of Tears, and the Royal Wedding (not in that order because remember I Don't Know History).

So, fast forward to last Friday when I got a note from the Principal saying both Girl 1 and 2 would be eating lunch with the Principal compliments of the Principal. AND they would be getting a dessert. SA-WEET!

If you are a regular you know that one of the things I hate most in life is making school lunches. It's not because I am not good at it - as you will see later - I can make the hell out of a school lunch. It's just because I am lazy and a Slacker Mom. Making 3 to 4 school lunches each and every day wears me out.

I do it because: 1. We cannot afford school lunches ($1.80) for each of our children every school day, and 2. Despite Jamie Oliver's best efforts I remain seriously frightened of school lunches (this dates back to My Used to Be Life).

So, my kids get homemade lunches (all four of them) each and every day.

This is super fine with the girls. The girls are terrified of school lunches, the lunch line, and the cafeteria workers (I take no responsibility for this neurosis). The Boy (for reasons we have yet to figure out) loves preservatives, chemicals, grease, and salt. So, he will happily save his money and buy a lunch at least once a month. Since I am all for him living, I don't allow it more than that (or he would buy it every day - since most days he has more money in his wallet than I do).

So, here's how it mostly (I have taken some author's privilege with details) went down last Friday:

Girl 1 and 2 squealing in high pitched voices: MOM, GUESS WHAT!!! WE BOTH GOT PICKED FOR CAUGHTYOUBEINGGOOD TO EAT LUNCH WITH THE PRINCIPAL!!! ISN'T THAT GREAT, MOM!!!

Me: Yes, that's awesome. I am so proud of you. And, even more super sweet is that I won't have to make lunches that day!!! So, yippee!!! Great job, girls!!!

Girl 1: Wait. So, we have to eat the school lunch?

Me: Well, yes. That's what the note says. Principal is buying you a school lunch and a school dessert. So, YIPPEE, right???

Girl 1: But, we hate school lunches, mom. They are gross. AND we are scared of the lunch line, remember? AND the ladies frighten us a little, too. So, no this is not good news.

Girl 2 (who has been eerily quiet on the matter): So, does this mean we have to eat a school lunch??? MOM, DOES IT??? DOES IT MEAN WE WON'T BE GETTING A SANDWICH, FRUIT, CHIPS, A NUTRITIOUS SNACK, AND A COOKIE??? (Her voice has somehow managed to raise in pitch so that now all the dogs within a five mile radius have their ears perched up.)

Suddenly I felt like this situation was spinning out of control, but similar to when you are about to lock your keys in your car, or eat dark chocolate when you know you shouldn't - I was powerless against it.

Me: Yes, babies, you are going to have to eat the school lunch, but just for one day and you get a dessert, and THIS IS A REWARD YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO LIKE IT!!! NOW LET'S STOP SCREAMING AND BE HAPPY!!!

Girl 1: Okay. I guess it's not that bad. Skips off while I say a quick prayer of Thanksgiving.

Girl 2: Now, pay attention because this is one of those zero to sixty Parenting Moments. I AM NOT GOING TO EAT A SCHOOL LUNCH, MOMMA. I REFUSE TO DO CAUGHT YOU BEING GOOD. I WAS NOT REALLY GOOD ANYWAY. I HATE THE SCHOOL LUNCHES. THIS IS AWFUL. I AM NOT GOING TO SCHOOL THAT DAY. CALL DAD. I AM NOT GOING TO SCHOOL. NO MATTER WHAT THE PUNISHMENT.

You get the picture - and, yes, it was that BIG. I'll spare you the details except to say this fit lasted about one hour. The fit contained high pitched wailing and screaming, moaning incoherent words, flailing, and possibly foaming from the mouth. And the simple reason: A lovely reward from the principal for good behavior.

The moral of the story? I have no idea. Let me know if you figure it out. I remain skeptical and more than a little frightened of school lunches and Caught You Being Good as a staple of Reward Systems in America.

Clean enough.

2012-01-11T07:14:00.000-08:00

Thanks to everyone who clicked over to A Nervous Tic Motion and read my guest post. Thanks also to everyone who left me some comment love. For some reason some of the comments did not appear on the site. But, I got them through email and am grateful for you guys taking the time to read it. Big hugs!

My mother was a Very Clean Woman. She taught me the Proper Way to clean many things. Here is just a small sample of the things that I used to know how to clean properly:

the toilet
the tubs
the baseboards (Who the heck cleans those things anyway?)
a light fixture
the refrigerator
the range hood (if that's even what that thing is called) and all its respective parts
the inside of the oven
silver (the real kind that you eat off of, not the kind you wear - because I still know how to clean that)
the bottoms of all my pans
the windows - inside and out

I am not quite sure what happened in between when I used to know how to clean and now, but now I pretty much hate to clean and quite frankly, I am not sure I even know how. I'd rather try on bathing suits in tiny dressing rooms, with four children staring at me, bad lighting, pasty skin, and incorrect sizes (because it couldn't be I've gained weight in 20 years). That's how much I hate to clean and am not really interested in helping myself.

In the interest of my happiness (I think) hubby let's me have a cleaning lady. He's such a great guy that in the past when we've had to tighten our proverbial belts (different from chastity belts, but I'm sure just as painful) he politely makes no move to "cut" the cleaning lady. Suffice it to say: Hubby is the best, and I pretty much love our cleaning lady.

As much as I love our cleaning lady, there are two things that have me a little worried. 1. She does have limitations. She clearly outlines the items she does not clean (see above list minus tubs and toilets). And I wonder: Is this in the hopes that the actual homeowner will manage those? YIKES! And, the other thing that has me a little worried: (since I no longer really remember) 2.  I fear my children are not ever going to know the proper way to clean things.

It seems that we may have reached a point at which my two concerns have converged in such a way that *kind of* makes me want to have a cleaning refresher course.

My conversation with Girl 2 the other day:
Girl 2 in kitchen gazing up toward the range hood: Mom, what's that nasty looking thing up there?

Me: Oh, that? That's called a....hmm.....I think that thing's called a range hood.

Girl 2: What's that thing inside of it that's all..........gooey?

Me: Oh. Hmm............that mesh looking thing? I'm not really sure what that's called. (I have a vision of my mom rolling over in her grave.) Why do you want to know???

Girl 2: Well, it looks gross. I guess it can't be cleaned?

Me: Hmm. (Feeling suddenly and oddly defensive about said gooey thing or myself for not cleaning it.) No, I think it can be cleaned.

Girl 2: How would you clean it?

Me: Good question. (Thinking: How would you clean that nasty looking thing?  But more importantly: WHY?) I think you could just put it in the dish washer?

Girl 2: Hmm. So...........I guess you just don't?

Ouch. It would be fair to say I was hurt. It's left me wondering a little about cleaning and the possibility that I should take it more seriously.

But, I have decided that until she (or anyone else who lives here) discovers something else that is lacking in cleanliness, I will wait patiently for the feeling to pass and try to avoid the Range Hood.

I Cuss Like a Sailor, But I Swear It's Not My Fault

2012-01-08T18:29:00.000-08:00

If you want to read the rest of the post (you will learn how baby's possible future expulsion from preschool has nothing to do with me), click here. I am guest posting over at one of my new favorite blogs for one-stop reading - A Nervous Tic Motion. If you like the post, leave me some comment love over there. Peace and happy Monday! I'll be back over here soon.

8. Barbie scares the Little People

2012-01-03T05:53:00.000-08:00

Since I already told you about my premature post-aculation (I *may* have just changed the name of the disease), I thought I'd share another deeply personal side of myself (consider yourself warned).  For a long time I was a staunch Barbie-hater. So much so that Barbies were not allowed in my home, I ~~forbid, forbode, forgave,~~ forbade my son to ever marry a Barbie, and I told my girls that if they ever became Barbies as grown up women I would write them out of my will (wait, I have a will?) and basically ex-communicate them from my family.

I don't know where this hatred came from. I was allowed to play with Barbies as a child. I really loved them. In fact, when I tried to make one of my Barbies look more like me by washing her hair (thereby turning it brown) and chopping her some bangs - I am pretty sure my mom was pissed.

It's not that I am prejudice, either.  Some of my best friends are Barbies............wait a minute. None of my best friends are Barbies. Maybe it is prejudice. Whatever.

Here's the important part!

Good news: I have overcome my hate and allowed Barbie into my home. Bad news: I still hate her.

Here's why:

1. She's always naked. Seriously? How old is this freakin' girl??? She can't dress herself??? STILL??? She wears me out.

2. She looks like a hooker, dresses like a hooker, behaves like a hooker, and YET she's a doctor/veterinarian/lawyer/teacher??? I don't get it.

3. She has unnaturally huge boobs with no nipples. As a young girl that kind of creeped me out. Twenty years later as a mother of three girls, it still creeps me out. It's like an episode of Nip/Tuck meets Extreme Makeover. Eww.

4. This may be excessively prudish of me (and, yes, I have been known at times to be an excessive prude), but it still feels weird when Boy Child or Girl 3 see Barbie hanging out. Naked. (Because remember #1? SHE'S ALWAYS NAKED.) I want to either shield their eyes or quickly run to get Barbie a robe.

5.  She seems to live a charmed life of fashion, a great job, a cool car and house, gorgeous, sleek hair, big boobs (albeit with no nipples - still a teensy bit jealous), and a great profession (doctor, teacher, vet, lawyer).

6. One size does not fit all. I'll be damned if Santa didn't spend a gazillion dollars buying Barbie clothes (in the hope that she would STAY clothed) only to find that Barbie is apparently modeled after Sophie Dahl and has had a range of sizes. This would be refreshing (to know that Barbie actually had weight change in her life span - like actual women) except that the sizes that Barbie has gone from range from -10 to 0. Good money - DOWN THE DRAIN.

7. Beach Barbie (who was purchased with some of the Christmas money from Grandpa - which just seems like a sin) has super huge feet. Damn her. None of the regular Barbie shoes fit her. In the dramatic words of Girl 1 (after attempting to cram poor Beach Barbies' Goliath feet into some cute little size 0 hooker pumps): Mom, she's not normal. Her feet are just not small enough. Can I cut them??? Yeah, that girl's not going to need a therapist later.

And the last and probably most important reason that I still hate Barbie:

She got drunk, took her clothes off (not necessarily in that order), broke down the door of the Little People house, and passed out in their living room. They were confused and more than a little scared.

Premature post-ulation. And future avoidance.

2012-01-02T18:54:00.000-08:00

I know I already posted today and that might have been a little premature. Embarrassing, but true. I suffer from premature post-ulation. But, don't worry - I'm on medication. The side effects make me sarcastic, impatient, bitchy, gaseous, and unkind but I haven't prematurely posted in about a year so I think it's working.

Enough about my medical conditions. My post earlier was about my one nano-second of fame when I was in the BlogHer sidebar. The bad news: I am still a Little Person. No one has called me to offer me a book deal. In fact, no one has called me period (because that would be gross and weird). Sorry. I am rambling. The good news: I logged onto Facebook and it appears that resolutions (collective gag) are all freakin' over the place. Sample of Facebook (in the form of random people's status updates - and my comments...JUST KIDDING - I'm not that rude!):

What are your resolutions? Who cares?
Resolutions? No, I'll take a beer.
Already screwed up my resolutions! I could have guessed you would!
Resolutions SUCK! Or, is it the person making the resolutions?

Vomit. I know. So, how is this good news? Because it is blog fodder and might provide subject matter to totally make up for my premature post earlier.

I, personally, could care less about resolutions but it seems other people are obsessed with them. So, I had a brilliant idea. I am going to make resolutions for other people. I'm going to start small since this is kind of a daunting task. My family is coming first (as it should, right?). I'm only doing three each (remember low expectations = goals met). Here goes!

Boy Child - 10
1. I resolve to put my dirty clothes in the dirty clothes basket not on the floor one inch away from the dirty clothes basket, or under my bed, or in the corner of the dark closet.
2. I resolve to bring my lunch box home everyday and not leave it at school for days on end (like a two week holiday) so it can grow mold and smell like an old sock in #1.
3. I resolve to speak respectfully and kindly to all members of my family (and friends and strangers) especially my sisters. "Speaking respectfully" will not include terms such as: fart, turd, booger, poop, pee, noogie, wedgie, or wet willy.

Girl Child - 8
1. I resolve to be less dramatic.
2. I resolve to be less dramatic.
3. I resolve to be less dramatic (unless it involves an actual drama class).

Girl Child - 7
1. I resolve to cry in a less high-pitch tone so that every dog in the neighborhood does not cock its head to one side and hike its ears up a notch.
2. I resolve to interact with my three year old sister in a way that does not cause her to scream at the top of her lungs.
3. I resolve to ignore the Boy Child when he cannot keep his third resolution (which will be in about five minutes).

Girl Child - 3
1. I resolve to be a human not a vampire and stop biting people in order to suck their blood.
2. I resolve to learn to read, write, and do math so that I can enter kindergarten one year early and mom can get a j-o-b.
3. I resolve to have patience with Boy Child and Girls 1 and 2 when they can not keep their resolutions and I want to scream at the top of my lungs (or bite or pull hair).

Hubby (I saved the best till last.)
1. I resolve to pat my wife kindly on the head (and go directly to retrieve her a beer) when she is having a meltdown about: Hot Flashes, Migraines, The Kids, The Economy, Life in General, or me.
2. I resolve to say (loudly and eagerly), "How about we go out to eat?" when my wife looks at me in desperation and screams, "I DON'T KNOW," after I have patiently and kindly asked, "What's for dinner, babe?"
3. I resolve to update my Facebook status every hour on the hour. (Just kidding, babe, if you are reading.) I really couldn't think of a third one for you since you are already perfect to me. (If you are still reading, sorry! Gratuitous brownie point getting that I might need when #1 happens later on tonight.)

As with all my "resolutions," I reserve the right to amend them at any point for any reason!

P.S. I have decided to chuck the idea of a parenting book (What the hell do I know about parenting anyway???) and focus all of my attention on a book entitled A Year In Other People's Resolutions or The Year I Decided to Change Everyone But Myself.

Yes, you can offer me a million dollars to write a book!

2012-01-02T06:01:00.000-08:00

So, I'm barely awake. Today is the second day of 2012 and the first day back at this: making lunches, getting up while it's still dark, drinking my coffee while small (often annoying and excessively loud) people are asking me a lot of questions that I don't know the answers to, making lunches, working out before 5:00 p.m., attempting my "to-do" list, and making lunches. Did I mention making lunches? I got all my school-age children on the bus (my faith in a God is increasing) and I sat down to surf the net (because it's too early to start on my actual "to-do" list). I figured I would check into my blog, see if I had anything compelling to write, and then possibly post. If not, I figured I would see what the hoards of people are up to on Facebook. (Did I say the baby is STILL SLEEPING??? God: Looks like you got a chance today!).

I logged into my blog and I perused the More From BlogHer sidebar and I see a blog title that looks familiar. Remember: I am barely awake.

It took me a few seconds and multiple clicks to verify that I wasn't going crazy. I realized: ONE OF MY POSTS MADE THE BLOGHER SIDEBAR.

Yeah, I know. That probably doesn't deserve large font. I'm pretty sure it's random and kind of like jury duty (as in: I should not be this excited). But, it feels a little like I won an Academy Award or at the very least a Pulitzer.

2012 - you might not be that daunting after all!

Happy Monday, friends. I'm going to write an acceptance speech now and wait for the book deal offers to pour in. (Or, I might just add "Write an acceptance speech (remember to thank mom...and God)." on my to-do list.)

Do I need a resolution to do that?

2012-01-01T14:12:00.000-08:00

So, doing a little research today and read that New Year resolutions date all the way back to 153 B.C. and Janus a mythical king whose head was at the top of every calendar (at least that's what Wikipedia said and if they said it it can be taken as gospel). This news in no way makes me appreciate resolutions, believe in their worth, or want to hear any one's (my own included). And yet, I would somehow feel like I disappointed you if I did not blog my resolutions while AT THE SAME TIME blogging them seems self-righteous and over-rated. So, what to do? I am blogging them, but I am giving you fair warning. So, if you think this is totally self-righteous, disgusting, and you want to vomit - please click to check your email or update your Facebook status. If not, read on!

2012 Resolutions (low expectations = goals met)

1. I resolve not to watch Millionaire Match Maker again......on weeknights.....more than once.
2. I resolve to not care about what Charlie Sheen tweets.....or read about it on Google....or in the newspaper.....or if it comes on NPR I resolve to immediately turn off the radio and not listen intently because it feeds my shallow, voyeuristic self.
3. I resolve to increase my stalkerish blogroll by only 2...okay, let's be realistic....only 12.
4. I resolve to research the correct addresses for the five returned Christmas cards that are next to my home phone...just kidding! They are going in the trash right after I finish blogging.
5. I resolve to purge my home of any "Christmas" (except the Christmas that lies within my heart - collective gag) before day's end.
6. I resolve to continue in my procrastination as long as it isn't hurting anyone and my kids are not hungry....well, just a little hungry because that means they will eat good at the next meal.
7. I resolve to eat less preservatives unless they are in marshmallows because I have researched making marshmallows and it's not going to happen unless someone is paying me a lot of money and then only if they look like Johnny Depp. We are talking about making marshmallows, right?
8. I resolve to pin more things on Pinterest because my memory is fading quicker than most people's hope to resolve.
9. I resolve to not harbor bitterness toward people who love to workout....well, not a lot of bitterness and only the kind of bitterness that doesn't really hurt the person you are bitter toward (physically).
10. I resolve to always end my lists with 10....unless it's a good list and I really need to say more stuff.
11. See? I resolve to not let my three year old eat dead s'mores off the ground from last night's fire pit (I had to add that because it just happened and until now I had no idea I would need to resolve that).
12. I resolve to reserve the right to delete or add to my list at any point during 2012 when I change my mind. Does that require a resolution?
13. I resolve to be honest with others...even when it hurts....(them).
14. I resolve to blog more about things that matter.....JUST KIDDING!

Okay! I think that takes care of everything. And, if it doesn't I'll just amend my list! Happy New Year guys! And when resolving, remember: It's gonna be a LONG freakin' year and there's always tomorrow!

2011, you were good...mostly.

2011-12-31T13:21:00.000-08:00

Baby has decided it is in her best interest to nap today, so I have about 20 minutes - give or take. Here is my list for 2011 and if it's cut short you know why. My list is an eclectic Best Posts of 2011/Things I Am Taking From 2011/Things I Am Leaving Behind/Things I Learned/Other Random ~~Crap~~ Stuff Loosely Related to 2011. Bear with me - it'll make you more patient.

1. Lice is next to nuclear war in a list of Things I Might Not Survive.
2. Fund raising is not my gig.
3. Turns out I am kind of a Comment Whore. It makes me almost giddy when someone comments on something I wrote. It makes writing on the Internet to no one in particular (besides my future self) kind of worth while.
4. Turns out I may be addicted to reading other people's blogs. Before I know it, hours have passed. Laundry is still piling up, my prints will not do themselves, the food still needs to be cooked, the dishes still need to be done, but I feel a little closer (in a totally voyeuristic way) to someone I do not know at all and will probably never meet. If that's weird, sue me.
5. I pray that any remaining vestiges of KK's marriage and divorce, the Royal Wedding, and Steve Jobs' legacy stay in 2011. But, I also understand that even God has limitations.
6. I will no doubt ask Dead or Alive? of the following people in 2012: Kim Jung Il, Heavy D, Andy Rooney, Amy Winehouse, and Betty Ford (yes, it's true - dead). Let's face it, my memory is that bad. If you didn't die a few minutes ago - I cannot remember if you are dead.
7. I will for sure take my kids and hubby into 2012. Please and thank you. Oh, and I will take procrastination, too.
8. The Catholic Church decided to change the words of prayers that I had committed to memory I think since the womb. I am not sure I forgive them.
9. Pinterest became like beer and dark chocolate for me. It remains a "happy place."
10. Hubby joined the rest of America and the majority of citizens in the developed (and undeveloped) countries on Facebook. His life now revolves around status updates and I am pretty sure his IQ has dropped 10 points (JUST KIDDING, HUBBY).
11. 2011 was the year I propelled myself into this century by getting a smart phone AND using ear buds....shocking, but true.
12. I retained my title of Potty Training Nazi by successfully training my fourth (and last - I am Catholic, but not crazy) child to pee and poop in the toilet. Next my kids will be going to Harvard.
13. Since I basically skipped my birthday in 2011 due to Black Lung, lice, and appliance issues, I have decided to have a kick a$$ birthday party in 2012.
14. I remain riveted by world events, deeply concerned about the status (not Facebook status) of America, compassionate about my fellow human beings, and compelled to do my part to make this world a better place. You just wouldn't know it by reading my blog.

That's my list. I hate that it's an even number, but I hear baby stirring and that can't be good. She may be potty trained, but she is still three after all. Peace and I hope you are with people you love to ring in the new year.

If you've seen my willpower, please send it home.

2011-12-28T06:41:00.000-08:00

Here we are in that wayward time between Christmas and New Year's Eve when everyone is trying to: 1. Clean the house (or, in my case, figure out how long you can go without cleaning the house before people get tired of stepping in goo, moving boxes around to eat, or wearing semi-clean underwear), 2. Lose weight (just so you can eat without guilt in four more days), 3. Figure out new electronics (in our case that would be a Wii - I know, not new, but new to us), 4. Return Christmas presents you didn't really want and replace them with more ~~crap~~ stuff you ~~don't really want~~ do want, and 5. Really just hang on psychologically until New Year's Day when you can let loose, be justified with all the looming resolutions you need to crank out on, and look forward to returning back to "normal."

Well, I just wanted to check in with you during this sensitive time and let you know what I am dealing with (because, in the end, it's all about me).

1. I am dealing with resisting tons and tons of sweets and chocolate. I *might* be addicted to sweets and I *might* need an intervention and 12 step program. Seriously. I cannot resist all this sugar. I am powerless against it. Here is what stares back at me when I look in my kitchen (warning: this list is a little obscene): chocolate covered pretzels, an assortment of chocolate treats from a Hershey's bag, pecan sugar cookies, Christmas sugar cookies, fudge, cookies from the sweet neighbors delivered last night (because we didn't have enough), turtle pie (which is a little like heaven), Lindor chocolates, and some little green and red M&M's that are very handy and melt in your mouth not in your hands. I have often justified eating all of these sweets by saying to myself that the sooner I eat them the sooner I will not have to deal with them anymore.
2. I am also dealing with lots of regular food that is not healthy. Leftover ham (you know how much I love ham), chips of every variety, Chex Mix, and an assortment of nuts. I justify eating this food by saying that it's healthier than eating all the food in #1. Pretzels and Chex cereal are almost fruits and vegetables, right?
3. I am dealing with wanting to drink lots of beer. Partly because it's "vacation" and partly because the Wii has been running 24/7 since Santa brought it.
4. Speaking of the Wii - I am dealing with it. I am not a gamer, the music is annoying (but addicting), and I am not a gamer.
5. I am dealing with the inability to exercise effectively. This is largely (no pun intended) due to the fact that I have gained about 10 pounds and can no longer support the weight of my body.

So, in a nutshell (Which reminds me I am also tempted by a variety of nuts??? DID I SAY THAT???), if you find my willpower wandering around - SEND IT BACK. I NEED it. Please and thank you!

Countdown: Negative One. The After.

2011-12-26T08:18:00.000-08:00

If you are reading this, you made it! You survived Christmas 2011. Congratulations. As promised (due to the comments from three of my favorite faithful readers) I am going to bring you The After and a short list (because even though a picture is worth a 1000 words, sometimes 1000 words is just not enough). It was an amazing Christmas (partly due to the amount of food I consumed and partly due to children who behave when surrounded by every toy they could possibly imagine). So, here is the photo recap.

The wrapping carnage.

Some of the kids. Now, amazingly, well behaved.

The brussel sprouts. Yes, I said, "brussel sprouts" (see the note on that later because we are that hip).

The New Green Bean casserole. See note on that later.

The tamales. These are home made. Yes, I ate one for you. And, yes, it was yummo.

The ham. Yes, my love for ham is a little obscene.

The children. Again, oddly well-behaved.

One of the Presents of the Day. An autographed copy of Eva Longoria's cook book (if you look closely you will see that she wrote, "To Monica - One of the best cooks I know and the inspiration for this book!" - or at least that's what it looks like she wrote).

Apparently my brother knows me better than I thought. (As evidenced by this T-shirt he gave me.)

Ah. Love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control are born into the hearts of mankind. Let's see how long before they are evicted.

Now, for the list:

1. I heard on NPR a while back that brussel sprouts are the new black. And thanks to my nephew our family was hip this Christmas (the brussel sprouts were good, too).
2. Again, my nephew and niece saved the day by bringing some tamales they made......with their hands. What a relief to eat home made tamales on Christmas. Thank you, Niece and Nephew. You have guaranteed your lifetime invitation to our home for Christmas.
3. Although my family (and by "my family" I mean "hubby") tends to be staunch traditionalists when it comes to holiday meals, I tried two new recipes. Both were DELISH and you can find them here:

Hubby and my brother could possibly be the only people on earth that love green bean casserole. I kinda think it's food porn. BUT, this scrumptious recipe by Paula Deen was recommended by a friend (thank you, friend). It is Paula Deen, so it consists mostly of cheese and butter (and a few green beans thrown in for good measure). Hubby's only complaint (hubby is a freak) was that he prefers canned green beans. Hello? Food 911? HUBBY NEEDS AN INTERVENTION STAT.
The other recipe was from another friend, but I found one to pass on to you that is just as yummy and the one I actually used (since I didn't want to risk my life by making another trip to the grocery store). It is a Christmas morning recipe that can bake while you are opening presents. The key there is to remember to put it into the oven at the crack a$$ of dawn, pre-coffee. Note to self: Next year do not rely on memory. Make an actual note.

5. As you might know, my list to Santa was kind of taken care of by me. So, I was not expecting any gifts. What I got were some AWESOME gifts. My sister really took the cake (and this is NOT to say that I did not LOVE all the other gifts from my super great hubby, my sweet, sweet kids, my friends, and other family members) this year. But, sissy gave me the above signed cookbook. It's not that I cook, like to cook, aspire to be a great cook - or any of that. I just have this thing about food, cookbooks, the Food Network, great restaurants, and anywhere I can see and enjoy great food. So, really it was an AWE-SOME gift. The other crazy thing she got me is a Christmas apron. I know - totally dorky, right? But, here's the crazy thing - I was in Hobby Lobby the other day and I thought, "I need a Christmas apron." Kind of like when you see a great car and you're like, "I need a Jag." So, now I have one. Yay, me! Oh, and YAY, sissy! You totally earned your shirt that says, "My sister has the best sister ever."

So, that's my wrap-up. I hope yours was grand, too. It may be 2012 before I write again. Depends on how well I can recover from the weight gain. Peace!

Countdown: ONE. A New Tradition....Maybe.

2011-12-24T07:59:00.000-08:00

So, if you have been living under a rock for the past week (or in Denial) - countdown is ONE. IT IS THE DAY OF CHRISTMAS EVE, folks. Since most of you might be doing any combination of the following: 1. Fighting the crowds and chaos and doing last minute shopping, 2. Working out in an effort to lose the 10 pounds you have gained since Halloween, 3. ~~Screaming at your kids~~ Gently having to remind your kids every three seconds that Santa is still watching and could still move their names to the Naughty List, 4. Frantically making homemade gifts to pass out tonight at your Christmas parties, 5. Watching the clock to see when it is noon and you can break open the "merriment," 6. Or, just enjoying the season, I am not going to bring you a witty post and expect you to read it with interest and enthusiasm (you're welcome).

Instead, I thought I'd start a new tradition on my blog. (If it works and people like it - as evidenced by thousands of comments on what a creative person I am and how you love my blog and my new traditions - it will be a tradition. If not, then consider this a "filler" and know that my next post will be way better.) I thought on Christmas Eve I would show you a few "before" photos. And then after Christmas I thought I'd bring you some "after" photos and we'll compare the two.

The tree. And the presents. Wrapped to the best ability - which is low.

The ham. Waiting to be devoured. That sounds dirty, and the way I love ham - it kinda is.

The children. Ignoring me when I tell them, "SANTA IS WATCHING, $#%#-%$!!!!!"

The children. Still ignoring me.

The tamales. Don't judge. They are NOT homemade.

The merriment. For me. Yes, I am cheap, but not easy. ;o)

The Boy. Trying to figure out if you can snort candy.

The cookies. Decidedly it was easier to decorate nicely when I paid $25.00 and was provided all the proper tools.

Mary and Joseph anxiously awaiting the birth of Jesus so that the anger and bitterness of a nine month pregnancy will subside.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

Families with last names R-Z will have to wait until next Christmas.

2011-12-20T15:55:00.000-08:00

Christmas comes on December 25th every year. So, it's a little incomprehensible and unsettling why every year December 20 rolls around and I still have a list of 150 things left to do before the 25th. It *could* have something to do with my procrastination abilities. Like right now, for example. I am supposed to be working on my annual family calendar - which was due to the printer yesterday. The printer loves me so she gave me two extra days to finish (Family if you are reading this - I am sorry. I $uck.) So, I could be doing the calendar. Or, I could be finishing paperwork from working today. Or, I could be doing one of the prints in the pile of prints that lay taunting me on my desk. Or, I could be mixing some cookie dough so that Santa's cookies will actually be ready before he comes down the chimney. Or, I could be doing the rest of our Christmas cards. But, I am blogging. So, it goes. When I am hard pressed to get things done I find at least 20 other super important things that are more pressing. This list usually includes things like: polish my nails, surf the net for random facts, examine the crises in the Middle East, attempt to begin a historical novel (I hate historical novels), reteach myself knitting, pin cool stuff on Pinterest, etc., etc. THAT is the long reason of why I am bringing you a quick little list of:

Random Things You Might Need To Know Five Days Before Christmas

1. It is harder to blog my one and only son's cherished birthday celebration than it is to do a procrastination blog. Sorry. I might get it done sometime before his 11th birthday.

2. Consider this one a PSA freebie. (You're welcome.) Generally I am a fan of Christmas programming (Who doesn't need for their kids to watch Rudolph like zombies while they are frantically doing Christmas cards?). This year I stumbled across what sounded like a great Christmas show my kids had never seen, Rudolph and The Flight Before Christmas (not to be confused with the traditional Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer). Instead of zombie children and a nice break for me to get more Christmas ~~crap~~ stuff done, what I got were questions about: fatherless children, sex before marriage, and living with only one parent. Merry Christmas to me! A trailer stating the following would have been super great.
"This show examines the life of a reindeer named Rudolph whose mother and birth-father had premarital unprotected sex one night during a 'flying fling.' Little Rudolph goes in search of his birth-father who does not know his mother even got knocked up and wants nothing to do with him anyway. Wolves which are evil and anti-Christmas decide to eat Santa and his reindeer. All ends well when the chipmunk (Was it a chipmunk? It's always hard to tell with animation.) decides that he has been a better father to Rudolph than Rudolph's own scum-bag father."
I personally want to thank ABC for teaching my three year old about vicious wolves that eat Santa and reindeer who father illegitimate children. As far as a rating on this one - I'm not sure I was mature enough to watch it.

3. My three year old displayed once again how she is headed down a path of destruction and demise when she refused to be a shepherd in the school pageant and insisted she was an angel. Her reasons? Shepherds are ugly. Shepherds just watch Jesus' sheep. Shepherd costumes are ugly. Shepherds don't have stars. Angels are sparkly. Angels are beautiful. She is an angel. Blech. Who are her parents??? Why can't they control her???

4. Before my bedazzling cookie class, I made some extra Christmas cookies to frost and decorate later. Later as in the next day or the day after that. They have all been eaten. Unfrosted. Undecorated.

5. And most sadly in my random list is the fact that families with last names from R-Z really get the shaft. You guys probably won't get a Christmas card from me this year. I go in order of my address book (yes, I still have one of those) and this year I got to "Q" and stopped. I haven't started again and I doubt I will. So, if you are a friend and you are a "R-Z," MERRY CHRISTMAS! You got a post instead of a card - consider yourself lucky!

Countdown: FIVE, my friends. Peace out.

And the wax gets a shine.

2011-12-18T07:58:00.000-08:00

Preface: I had planned on getting back to you yesterday with all the skinny on M's gaming party, but I am going to bring you this post instead. (A large part of yesterday was spent recovering from said gaming party because I am older than Abraham.) As you know, I can barely remember what I ate for breakfast so when I have a great time and meet great people I have to blog about it ASAP or I will forget the entire incident. I am fairly good at remembering my family, so that is why M's post is going to wait. Thanks for understanding and I promise to make it up to you.

Last night was hubby's company Christmas Party. If you are a regular you know that hubby works for a pretty amazing company that knows how to throw a Christmas party. This year was just as great as last year minus The Janet Jacksonish Wardrobe Malfunction and the Not Free Coffee. If you did not read that post - garter belts are a must and remember to pay for your purchases. This year as an added bonus we did not get pulled over! So yay us!

I have not had a decent night's sleep in weeks, so I am just going to give you a list entitled:

Not Your Regular Office Christmas Party

1. I wore a dress I got from Goodwill.

Did it work? You be the judge.

2. I got to see hubby in a suit not his scrub-like get-up. He's a hottie everyday. He's a Hottie when he wears a suit.
3. We spent six hours sans children.
4. The Owner of the Company took time to chat with people in a genuine way. Not only is he great for keeping hubby employed so that we can all eat and stuff, he is also great because he said he "enjoys my blog." (That's not really a direct quote because my mind is a sieve - but it's close enough.) Say what? Yes. Apparently the Owner of a COMPANY has read my blog. Sa-weet! Merry Christmas, Owner of Company!
5. We sat next to a lovely couple, Fred and Ginger (Names changed to protect the innocent. I think I changed their names. You know I am REALLY bad with names). Here's why they were lovely:

They had four children as well, so they understood the excitement that comes with being away from home for a company Christmas Party (or for any reason for that matter).
.When they asked if I "worked outside the home" they did not use any acronyms. Nor did they shrink back awkwardly when hubby explained what I do. By the way, what do I do?
When I told Ginger I did not enjoy dancing but did enjoy chair dancing, there *may* have been some confusion around the table about the critical differences between chair dancing and lap dancing. Then when I explained (don't worry - not in detail) what I meant, instead of thinking I was a total nut, she laughed.
Hubby and I doing the fish hook move (or was it just me?) *may* have gotten Fred and Ginger on to the dance floor.

6. Hubby got an attractive murse as a Christmas gift. With his name on it.

Hubby, is that you?

7. I got four drink tickets because hubby doesn't drink. Please and thank you, hubby!
8. I got to eat food that I didn't have to cook without the interruption of four small people incessantly asking me for ~~crap~~ stuff.
9. Virginia (hubby's supervisor) was hubby's dance partner for the dance competition, not me! I am one body part from neck to knees, so dancing is not my friend (see #5). Hubby, on the other hand, is Plastic Man from the 70's. Sadly, they did not win the dance competition. It was not for lack of trying. Awesome dancing Virginia and hubby!

Hubby doing the "warm up" to the competition.

10. The incident with the Brazilian Wax won hubby the Mr. Clean Award! Yes! Not only did Hubby's ironic naivete make great blog fodder, it paid off for us!

That's my list bloggy peeps. I can really only think of one thing I don't like about hubby's company Christmas party. It only comes once a year. Countdown: Seven. Happy day!

Because I don't have enough to do...

2011-12-14T19:51:00.000-08:00

I decided to go to a cookie decorating class tonight. Here is what I made:

Here is what I learned:

1. It is harder than it seems.
2. There is an art to making a simple straight line.
3. All those fancy balls are called, "dragees" pronounced dra-ZHAY. Although, I am not sure that's how I heard it pronounced tonight. It is a French word that means, "small balls." I'm not sure that's correct either. But it sounds good and might be helpful information should I ever go to France.
4. There are dragees that are actually edible jewels. They cost a lot of money and I have two in this box. One of them is purple and looks like the Queens' jewels.
5. I can bedazzle the hell out of a cookie and I tend to get a little carried away.
6. The dragees although beautiful are hard on the teeth and baby might have to have oral surgery after eating one of these cookies.
7. All dreams of opening a cookie shop and becoming famous and rich were dashed tonight when I realized it is actual work....and I may not be a "natural."
8. Vodka is the perfect solution in which to mix drawing glitter for painting the cookies. It is also good to drink some straight while decorating with small balls. I don't think it was allowed tonight so we used water.
9. The next class I am going to sit closer to the over achieving girl who was clearly a professional cookie decorator. That way I can photograph her cookies and post them to my blog. JUST KIDDING...........kind of.
10. The next class I will also bring my vodka with me in order to be fully prepared.

I hope you find some time to procrastinate and do something wildly fun and not on your list. And, don't be afraid to throw some small balls and vodka in there, too.

M.'s Terrific 10th Gaming Birthday Party Update!

2011-12-11T12:04:00.001-08:00

Just checking in to give you an update on the birthday party set to happen this Friday (And, Mother Nature - if you are reading, I am giving you plenty of time to change the forecast to sunny. Please and thank you.)

I decided to try on my own to create a birthday invitation similar to the one I saw online that cost $17.00 for the template alone (then you still had to pay for printing). I think you know that I am the anti-computer literate gal, so after about two hours of Publisher I had this. It came out pretty good (I couldn't get a good shot of the invitation, so just know that it's much cuter IRL).

I had them printed because my printer just couldn't do them justice. Total cost - about $15.00 for 20 invitations. M. loved them, so it was worth it. The treat bags are coming together, but I will have to post pictures of them later because I haven't made the angry bird bags yet. But, these yummy cookies are going inside as one of the treats along with Angry Bird Silly Bandz, black barrels-o-slime, and snap-n-glow stick lollipops.

Pinterest is being a pain today, so I am unable to upload these cute babies to my party board. :o( Hope to have them pinned later. They are not quite as cute as the ones here that I was trying to copy by following her directions, but pretty darn good for a cookie novice.

That's it for now. I am soooooooo excited - it kinda seems like it's my birthday. But, I sometimes set myself up for disappointment by getting my hopes high, so I am trying to keep the whole thing in perspective (yeah, right - who am I kidding?).

Happy days and I'll check back in soon with the "finished product!"

P.S. - Finished these today!

angry bird treat bags

Dear Santa, Would it be too much to ask?

2011-12-09T07:57:00.001-08:00

Every year, typically around the 16th, I get asked what I want for Christmas. This is usually after all the cookies are baked and decorated, presents are bought and half of them are usually wrapped, school Holiday parties are attended, recitals are done, Christmas clothes are purchased (and if we are lucky - matching!), tamales are ordered, cards are sent (well, mostly), token gifts for the neighbors are ready to be passed out (If you are a neighbor reading and you don't get one of those, remember: this blog is mostly true.) etc., etc. And my usual answer is: I have everything I want. Oh, vomit, right? So, this year I decided to veer greatly of course. Without being prompted about two weeks ago, I made and submitted (To hubby - I don't fully trust Santa because he wears those shiny, white gloves.) this list:

(Carefully not numbered to avoid sounding greedy.)

bras (Because when do we, as women, not need those?)
panties (Ditto and preferably not edible or crotchless - ew! Sorry.)
a Keurig coffee maker (No, I don't already have one of those. If you would like an address to make donations to make this a reality - let me know!)
make-up that is not crusty because I am pretty sure that's not how make-up is supposed to be
slippers - the warm kind with animal bodies (Not real animals - don't call PETA. Although, since I have never tried the real animal kind I cannot really speak against it.)
a nice, big purse (one that holds snacks, feminine products, deodorant, cologne - that I'm getting - a styling brush, a spare pair of panties - FOR THE KIDS, wipees, etc.)
cologne
work-out clothes
new pajamas
fashionable boots
a winter coat
a stapler that I don't have to smack each time I staple something
a decent pencil sharpener (yes, I still use pencils)
a lot of James Avery jewelry
accessories (any kind, really)

Even now as I look back at this list I am surprised at how shocking it is - to me. Now, here's the part that is really shocking. I have purchased nearly everything on the list already! Shame on me!? Possibly. I am still thinking about it.

But, here's the REAL reason for the post. Sorry. I am in a meandering sort of mood. THIS is the list that is not being submitted because it is truly too much to ask..............for even SANTA with his white, shiny gloves.

(And yes, I numbered this one so that just in case Santa is one of my blog readers he won't think I am too greedy.)
What I Would Really Like for Christmas

1. Sleep. Like for a long time. Till I am ready to get up. AND THEN, no talking until I have had as much coffee as I would like (Keurig coffee or Starbucks). AND THEN, my breakfast brought to me.
2. Weight loss without exercise. I really hate exercise.
3. A call from a publisher offering me a million dollar advance on my parenting book..
4. Calorie-less beer that tastes great and actually combats bloating and aging.
5. A personal bartender (that looks like Johnny Depp and brings his own liquor - because liquor is not cheap).
6. A personal assistant who while doing all my crap for me also teaches me how to do it for myself (kind of like the whole teach a girl to fish thing) so that I can eventually say goodbye to him (cause personal assistants are a little creepy) and voila I am an assistant to MYSELF. And if this person could make me crafty and able to do all home improvement that would be great, too. (AND if he has to look like Johnny Depp, too, that's cool).
7. To be like Samantha from Bewitched and have all the Christmas decorations put themselves away after Christmas by just crinkling my nose or snapping my fingers.
8. Ditto for making my kids behave.
9. World peace (See Santa - I am not a total schmuck.)
10. Big boobs and flawless skin (Okay - maybe I am.)

I've been mostly nice this year, so we'll see how it all works out. Update on the 26th. Be merry, friends!

Turtle Wax? No, I'll take the Brazilian.

2011-12-07T06:05:00.001-08:00

So, just in case your to-do list looks like mine - I have a little Christmas hilarity for you. I feel compelled and completely justified putting that in LARGE letters. Take a time-out from your shopping, card writing (If you need my address - leave a comment.), baking, eating, and drinking heavily (non-alcoholic, of course, it's still before 12:00). Grab a cup-of-joe and read on.

Backtrack to a few days ago (it took me that long to stop laughing and find the laptop under the load of Christmas ~~crap~~ decorations that are covering all the freaking tables in my house) when hubby was out seeing patients with his supervisor (to be referred to as Virginia - name changed to protect the innocent). Often when he is out seeing patients, the TV in the house is on. On occasion hubby will tell me about something he "saw on TV while at a patients house." So, I wasn't really fascinated when he started telling me about seeing a spot about "waxing" on The View.

I think my exact thought was, "Oh, really? Fascinating."

UNTIL he said (quite nonchalantly), "Do you know what a Brazilian wax is?"

Now, at that point many things (none of them fit to print) went through my head, but what I managed to say was: Ah, yes. Why? (NOT entirely wanting to know.)

Hubby: (Now giggling and sporting a grin like a teenager.) Well, I didn't.

Me: YOU DIDN'T??? Oh my GAWD. What exactly happened? Did they do a BRAZILIAN WAXING ON THE VIEW???

Hubby: Well, no. Not exactly.

Me: WELL WHAT EXACTLY? DO YOU KNOW WHAT A BRAZILIAN WAX IS NOW? WHY AM I FRIGHTENED FOR HOW THIS STORY ENDS???

Hubby (Now giggling a little more.): Well, yeah. I think I know now. Virginia explained it to me.

Me: Oh God. Tell me no. What happened exactly?

Hubby: Well, I could just hear the TV. And I HEARD that they were talking about waxing on The View and like I said I didn't really know what Brazilian waxing was. So, I just assumed they meant like waxing. Like waxing a car. So, when I happened to actually look over at the TV, there was like I guess a commercial. And it was a guy waxing his car. So, I said (out loud), "What's a Brazilian wax?"

Me: YOU SAID IT OUT LOUD TO EVERYONE??? WHAT DID THEY SAY???

Hubby: Well, no one really said anything. So, I kind of figured they didn't know either. And, then grandma kind of smirked. So, then I said, "Is it like a really special kind of car wax?"

Me: Oh, please. Tell me you didn't.

Hubby: (Now laughing quite out loud.) Well, yeah. I did. Then everyone started laughing pretty hard. Then Virginia said while chuckling, "I'll tell you later, it's not really appropriate to talk about right now."

Me: Oh my God. WHAT DID YOU THINK WHEN SHE SAID THAT???

Hubby: (STILL LAUGHING.) Well, I figured it wasn't a special kind of car wax!!!

Later, after they left the patient's home, Virginia told hubby the barest (no pun intended) definition of a Brazilian wax. I had to complete the picture (not literally because that would make me and you vomit) for him right then as he was telling me the story. As soon as I had filled in the details (so to speak) for him we were both laughing so hard it was impossible to continue talking about how horrible the situation had been.

Here's what makes this story so great:

1. Between hubby and me, I am decidedly the naive one. So, score one for me.
2. I stick my foot in my mouth on an almost daily basis, while hubby is just known all around as a jokester/prankster/middle school humor man. So, he constantly reminds me of times when I have inserted said foot in mouth. Bring it on, hubby. You will be hearing about this fo'eva!
3. It's just damn funny and I cannot resist a good laugh.

I know, so junior highish. Sorry. I blame The View. Happy shopping, and if you are out and about and decide to treat your car to a Christmas wax, don't forget to ask for the BRAZILIAN!

'Tis the season to get bloated (Sing that - it makes for a much better blog title.)

2011-11-30T07:39:00.001-08:00

So, it's that time of year where everyone from Heloise to Dr. Oz wants to give you their take on "how not to get fat from now till my birthday" (January 20th and I like beer, chocolate, and large purses). Just once, I would like to see an honest article on Holiday Weight Gain. Last year I wrote a tongue in cheek post on Holiday Weight Gain. This year I am just going to simply state why STAYING SKINNY NOW DOESN'T WORK. I am not a doctor, a weight management professional, or a nutritionist, but I love to eat and my brain works (as far as I know - most of the time) so I think I am qualified to write this.

1. Many nutrition gurus suggest continuing your normal exercise routine or if possible increasing it this time of year. This doesn't work and there are a few reasons why. Who has time to exercise on a normal basis? Not many people. In fact, in the article I read one of the tips was to do tummy tucks while you are standing in line (presumably waiting in the buffet line). For real? What I understand when I read that is: YOU DON'T HAVE TIME TO EXERCISE. NOT BEFORE AND NOT NOW. AND - while you are waiting in the buffet line you should be enjoying a delicious Christmas cocktail and talkin' to your man. I will just say one more thing: if you have time to exercise now, you better check your "to do" list. If "Buy A Day In The Life a Christmas present" is not on your to-do list - add it. Stat. And then get busy shopping for me instead of trying to find time to exercise.

2. Another suggestion I've seen is to "limit yourself." Now, I am just not sure I understand this one. The article referenced above suggests filling one plate (at the buffet) and then not going near the food table again. That just sounds like cruel and unusual punishment to me. I like to make many trips to the buffet, sample everything, and do a noteworthy plate balancing act in the process.

3. "Curbing your appetite" also seems to be a popular notion. It is suggested that you eat a "handful of nuts" and possibly drink a glass of water before heading out to a holiday party. I love the idea of eating a handful of nuts. But, what I want with a handful of nuts (and might I suggest spicy hot peanuts) is a cold beer. Then, I might want some nachos and another beer. THEN, I would be ready to go the party!

4. "Accepting mistakes" is popular. In other words, if you fall off the wagon - don't waste time feeling guilty, just hop back on! As a general principle, I really don't have an objection to this one. But, consider this - if you keep falling off the wagon, it may be time to walk.

5. Now the article I referenced above specifically suggested "Calming down." This one is just nuts. The holidays do not allow for "calming down." My to-do list is a mile long and I am still blogging. Calm down? How about a donut and another cup of coffee? Now, that's more like it!

6. The article I read also suggested carrying snacks with you for when you are out-and-about where healthy snacks might not be offered. I am all for carrying snacks with you. Some that I suggest for the holidays are: Christmas cookies (you never want those to go bad and have to throw them away), hot spicy peanuts referenced above (Although drinking alcohol in public is not sanctioned by me or this blog. Are Christmas parties public?), dark chocolate chips, and chili-lime Cheetos (my nine year old son just introduced me to those).

7. Professionals also like to warn against falling into the "trap" of thinking that weight gain now is okay since in January you can always go on a diet. Frankly, I fell into that trap a long time ago..............and I like it here! It makes resolutions soooooooo much easier!

8. Several articles I read suggested keeping a log of what you are eating. Again, this is questionable on so many levels. Sub-list:

a. Do you have time for a log? If so, leave me a comment and I will send you some of my to-do list items.
b. Do you really want to know what you are eating??? It could lead to more than a weight issue. Trust me.
c. If you simply must keep a log, maybe you should keep it on a concrete tablet (like Moses) so that you can kill two birds with one stone (figuratively and possibly literally as well) - curbing your appetite AND exercise. And, YES, that is SARCASM.

9. Many professionals suggest that you be mindful of snacking during holiday cooking. I really take objection to this one. What's one of the best parts of holiday cooking? SNACKING while you do it! Who doesn't want to snack on cheesy popcorn and have a nice glass of wine while making Christmas cookies??? Thinking about it just makes me want to belt out a line of "White Christmas."

10. Another popular suggestion seems to be sending holiday party leftovers home with family and friends. Remember this works two ways. I am the family and friends with whom you need to send leftovers home.

That's my explanation of why staying trim during the holidays is worthless. Don't think about it! You will be happy while others will be miserable. Enjoy, friends! Know that I will be with you January 1 when we have a lot to resolve!

It's all downhill from here, baby.

2011-11-28T11:26:00.001-08:00

So, it's that really awkward time between Thanksgiving and December 1. That in-between time is like a rebound man. You don't really want to make a commitment to anything, and yet you want to try something new, fun, and exciting. And, it's Cyber Monday so in a way I am compelled to be "on" the computer 24/7 to see what deals I might be missing and I am kinda wanting to try something new and exciting out on you (don't worry - I'll be gentle). Since these are strange days (we have exactly two more to get through until December 1 when we can officially begin waiting for Santa or Jesus - or both), I thought I would give you a totally random list of possibly Novemberish/Decemberish items - because that's how I roll.

Totally Random List of ~~Crap You Don't Care About~~ Fascinating Things You Didn't Know You Cared About

1. I gained about 200 pounds over the Thanksgiving holiday (and that is just an estimate - it could be more). Jillian is now going to own me. As in, "I will be her bee-atch." Worry about me. THIS did NOT keep me from buying the industrial size ("makes SIX batches") Ghirardelli Dark Chocolate Brownie Mix at Costco today. I quickly justified it by saying it was less than $2.00/batch. WHAT A STEAL!!! Call me crazy. I am ensuring resolutions come January 1.
2. I keep waiting for the three year old to turn into a sweet, loving child. Apparently this is not going to happen. Over the holiday this fact *may have* hit me front and center. I'm looking into a refund.
3. I believe Black Friday is a conspiracy wherein retailers incrementally raise prices all year long so that no one really notices only to lower them BACK down to where they originally were on Black Friday and THEN they sell that to you as an "awesome deal." It should be called Screw the Consumer. I *may* tell myself this in order to make myself feel better when reading status updates about how many deals people are finding while I am sitting at home drinking hot coffee in my pajamas nursing a hangover.
4. We set up the tree, decorated the yard (if you can call three reindeer with lights laying beside them "decorating the yard"), decorated the house, and basically rang in Christmas with little to no family dysfunction. I am still waiting for the "other shoe to drop." On my head.
5. I do not understand the fascination with Twilight. Although I did discover s'more martinis on someones Twilight status update and that discovery might have redeemed all the disgustingly gratuitous Twilight status updates.
6. I am once again tempted to tell my kids that I Am Santa.
7. You can't find Jesus at the mall and take pictures with him. This is actually one that Girl 2 said to me the other day. To which I replied, "You are right. I don't think you can." I've been thinking about it ever since. Possibly because I am now picturing a person dressed as Jesus sitting at the mall and a long line of kids waiting to have their pictures taken with him. With Him. Him? See? It'll make you think now, too.
8. I still send Christmas cards (if you don't get one remember that my blog is mostly true). Last year I received from others the least amount of cards on record (I even had to count the one from my dentist - who still sends a card). Either I am getting less and less popular or people are not sending cards as much anymore. I'm really hoping it's the second one.
9. I will be wearing a 70's dress I purchased at Goodwill to hubby's Christmas party this year. It's okay. Don't worry. Remember I said I was thankful for peeps that have good taste because I don't? Well, one of those peeps approved it. When I was shopping at Goodwill I was under the assumption the party theme was "70's." Why else would I be at Goodwill buying a 70's dress??? (Wait. On second thought - don't answer that.) After I purchased the dress, hubby told me they decided to not go with a theme. At first I said, "Damn." Now, I am pee pants excited to be wearing a Goodwill dress to a posh hotel. Weird. I know.
10. It may be time to finish my kids' stockings. I am not crafty. In fact, I like to call myself the anti-Craft. Kind of like the anti-Christ, but less scary. I not only am not good at crafts, I hate them. When I fancied myself crafty (about 20 years ago) I started some Christmas stockings for "some kids." Weird again. I know. I don't know if I was thinking of someday having kids or I was just thinking of orphans. At any rate, these are the stockings my kids have now and they are in various stages of "done." Every year the kids say, "When are you going to finish these, mom?" Every year I say, "Beats the hell out of me. Probably never." This may be the year. Then again, it may not.

That's my list, sweet readers. Try to survive this murky time and I hope to see you on the Other Side on December 1. Peace (and good tidings, if you must).

I'm thankful for the bras at Nordstroms. Or, let me be honest.

2011-11-23T08:01:00.001-08:00

I will risk being painfully honest with you today. I love the trivial and hate the sentimental. I have such mixed feelings on the I Am Thankful posts that you can find on Facebook, Twitter, blogs, and sometimes people's underwear (Just kidding. I think.) this time of year. Part of me says, "I try to be thankful each and everyday so why the need to do it in November?" The other part of me says, "Soooooooooo ridiculously sappy..........and yet - I don't want everyone to ~~know~~ think I am a total cynic." And the other part of me says, "Good Grief! What am I thankful for???" And the other part of me says, "You are Sybil."

So, the day before Thanksgiving I usually find myself frantically trying to think of 10 things I am thankful for for the sake of not wanting to be a cynic and yet not wanting to sound disgustingly sentimental. Seems you are stuck with This and please know that This took me longer to think of than most blog posts - so, HAPPY THANKSGIVING:

1. I am thankful for hair dye. My mom passed down the Early Gray Hair gene to me and I have been gray since...........I have been gray a long time. Thank you, mom. I hate it. I hate gray hair. Last night I had my hair did, as I always do, and poof! it's gone. So yippee! I am thankful.
2. I am thankful for beer. It is the great equalizer, it deadens my senses sometimes when I need it (don't call the Depression Hotline - I am just being honest), it makes me laugh harder and more frequently, and it goes great with my favorite foods. And I am thankful.
3. I am thankful for friends with good taste because I have none. You know who you are and I am thankful for you. Otherwise I would live in a totally mismatched home (as I did for several years), and I would look like Cyndi Lauper (only without the fame to keep it all together).
4. I am thankful for sarcasm and humor. They complete me, and have gotten me out of a lot of Tight Spots. (In case you never noticed.)
5. I am thankful God gave me a son who at nine reads the paper daily. That is just a sight that makes my heart smile no matter how pissy I am feeling when I find black smudge marks everywhere.
6. I am thankful I am not in therapy. I may need therapy, but I choose to self-analyze and for that, I am thankful.
7. I am thankful Girl 1 is a wordsmith and loves to write. That makes my heart smile, too.
8. I am thankful for the dentist who said to me, "Well, baby *might* not need braces." Right after telling me the other three definitely would.
9. I am thankful for Girl 2 who has an uncanny and quite funny ability to impersonate the friends and neighbors (sorry, friends and neighbors). It gives me hope that there might just be a famous comedian in the family thereby making having the four kids totally worthwhile. KIDDING! Kind of.
10. I am thankful that you know me well enough to know that I am inherently thankful for ~~all the sentimental crap~~ everything else.

Please and thank you. That is all. Amen.

Why is there a machete in the crapper?

2011-11-21T07:37:00.001-08:00

So, it's no secret. Some of my best friends are one nut short of a pecan pie (in a totally life-enhancing way). One of them just started a blog. You can find her over at Seriously? This news makes me delighted and a little sad. Delighted because she is a riot and unbelievably funny things happen to her on a daily basis. Sad because I have been fostering a dream that I will pretend all of her outrageous daily happenings are mine, write an amazingly funny best selling book, and become an overnight sensation. (You can now picture me saying Goodbye to my dreams. Thank you, K.F.)

Now, I am confident that she will blog in detail about one of her latest happenings soon, but I thought I would just let you know how her Unfortunate Incident has affected me. What happened is an incredibly long story, but in a nutshell (so to speak - this Incident is chalk full of puns) - - a squirrel came out of her toilet. I put that in large letters because it's not every day that wildlife comes out of a friends' toilet.

Before I continue there are a few things you need to know about me (because, in the end, it's all about me).

1. I hate squirrels. Most people think they are cute little furry things with bushy tails. I think they are disease carrying evil rats sent straight from Satan to terrorize me.
2. I have several irrational (until proven otherwise) fears. One of them is that when I am Doing My Business something is going to swim up the toilet pipe and bite me on the a$$.
3. I hate squirrels. Wait...did I say that already?

So, thanks to Seriously about three weeks ago two of my fears came together in a truly incredible (and if it wasn't so horrifying it might be said to be beautiful) way (I would not have even believed it if I hadn't seen the photos. Yes, I tried to get her to pin them on Pinterest. Unfortunately, she doesn't have a Pinterest account, and besides I think she said, "Hell to the no.")

A squirrel came up her toilet. No one's arse was hurt in the incident (and no squirrels were hurt - oh, except the dead one) but it was enough to FREAK ME OUT.

I am now terrified of using the toilet. I tried to ignore it at first by thinking of other things, strengthening up my thighs muscles (girls, I think you know what I mean by that), keeping the door wide open (should I need to make a quick exit with my pants down), and taking a weapon with me each time I have to pee or poop (hence the title of the post - an actual question from an inquiring household member - name missing to protect the innocent). It's getting exhausting and honestly - it's not working.

Until I can recover from this latest trauma (which didn't even happen to me) you'll have to forgive me for being a little clogged up and out of sorts in my postings. Meanwhile, head over to Seriously and give her a read. Some of your greatest fears might be realized, but trust me you will have a good belly laugh to go with that.

For the crime obsessed...

2011-11-18T09:28:00.001-08:00

Forgive the change of pace of this post. I've been in a bit of a seasonal funk lately. I promise to come out soon. Meanwhile, I am going to share some awesome crime TV with you. Yes, you read right - TV.

So, I have always been obsessed with murder, crime, police work, trials, and basically anything to do with criminal justice (or injustice as the case may be). Naturally it would have made sense for me to go into this line of work. Since, I am apparently not natural - I didn't. And now I live my life vicariously through television characters whose exciting lives are imbued with the criminal element.

If you are a "regular" you know that hubby and I live somewhere in the 80's technology-wise. So, we have what's called Basic Cable. This means basically (hence the name) that when the show is actually broadcast - you watch it. Very simple. There is no room-to-room TV, there is no DVR, there are no 5,000 channels. There is just, simply, ABC, NBC, CBS, PBS, FOX, and a few nude women on the Spanish channels. If you happen to turn the TV on and there is a show you want to watch on there - you sit on the couch and watch it. I know that now-a-days shows can be watched on the laptop, but that is problematic. If I couldn't watch it when it was on, how the hell am I supposed to be able to watch it later???

Thankfully, being the crime fanatic that I am this old-school TV has always worked out quite well for me. I am happy to report that some of the best crime shows have been on the major channels. Through the years I have been able to be a HUGE fan of: NYPD Blue, Cold Case, Criminal Minds, and, of course, ANYTHING Law & Order. In more recent years I have also become fairly addicted to PBS Masterpiece Mystery (I will risk sounding very old and corny).

So, that's what I love about TV. Here's what I don't love about TV: sit coms - in 29ish years I have found maybe two sit coms that I could watch, dramas - pretty much hate 'em, hospital shows - I have an irrational (although, sometimes quite rational) fear of hospitals so I never want to watch hospital dramas, reality TV (but, I have been known to watch Millionaire Matchmaker because I *might* love her no-nonsense potty mouth), and ALL CITY CSI's - HATE them all.

Now, what's the point? The point is: This season has SUCKED. Elliott Stabler went away, Law & Order suddenly went CSI in their technology for solving crimes (more about that later), all the shows got rearranged, and there are a bunch of new shows that aren't worth a DAMN. I have been forced to: sit through an entire episode of Whitney (blech) without even a snicker, tolerate a finger identification that took less than five seconds on Law & Order, go to bed at 8:00, and read about 5 novels since the new season started. I was just beginning to think there was no redemption when I stumbled upon Maria Bello in Prime Suspect.

If you have not watched This Show and you are a crime fanatic - get busy and watch it. It is fabulous. It is based on the UK version (of course) starring Helen Mirren. First of all, I am in love with Maria Bello. She looks great while fighting crime, she has a potty mouth, she's sarcastic, she hates to cry, she thinks she sucks at love, and all her male co-workers are secretly (or not) hot for her. What's not to love?

Secondly, crimes are not solved in the high-tech world. They are solved the old fashioned way (which I suspect is still The Way in Real Life) called Great Detective Work. On last night's episode, it took three days to get results back on a fingerprint and that was about the time the killer had already made his secret not-so-secret by attempting to shoot everyone up. The reason I hate CSI is because while it pretends to be true crime, it is mostly high-tech crime solving that I am not sure ever happens in the real world. Seriously. Did you know on the British crime shows the cops aren't even armed? Love. It.

Thirdly, the rest of the acting is great and the story line is clean. It's not a lot of senseless chatter and other story lines. It's basically one crime and one crime solved - with brains. And, a little hard drinking thrown in for good measure. Remember alcoholic Andy from NYPD and how hard it was for him to go sober? Who that loves true crime did not love that? THAT was a real cop character. And, that is what Prime Suspect reminds me of.

So, why the bitching about this season's line up? Well, we are not in the UK apparently, and I cannot fall in love with American remakes of UK shows. Because - the show will be cancelled. Looks like it will be a winter of even more good books for me. Crime lovers - catch it while you can. Happy Watching!

Birthday Bash Planning Begins

2011-11-13T12:52:00.001-08:00

We are Mean Parents that don't do birthday parties for our kids after their kindergarten birthday party. As I have said many times, we live within a TIGHT budget and all-and-out parties for four kids every year along with Christmas, summer vacations, and just-because presents can get REALLY pricey QUICKLY. So, we made a deal (hubby and I) years ago when our son was turning five that the sixth birthday would be the last big party for our kiddos. Then we would have another big party for 10 and another big party for graduation (assuming they do graduate.....kidding.....kind of). I am telling you all of this because my son has not had a party in four years and I get to plan one NOW! He will turn 10 on December 17, and I am beyond excited and he is pretty excited as well.

He loves all things technological and he loves gaming. As much as I discourage this (yes, I am more for actual play in the real world), I realize we have a teeny tiny house and I admit I've not the foggiest idea on where to start on entertaining 10 to 15 nine year old boys. So, I have succumbed and he is getting Games2U for his party. After securing the game truck, I decided I better start the actual planning: the invitations, the decorations, the menu, the favors, the cupcakes/cake, etc.

I have found yet another wonderful use for Pinterest and I have pinned some pretty cool stuff. If you have a burning desire - check out my video game birthday party board. My son was in love with the invitations I pinned. But, they were not cheap. Our budget for the party is not huge and the gaming truck has taken a large chunk of it, so I decided to get on Microsoft Publisher and just do our own. I used the basic idea from the invitation I pinned, but inserted pictures he picked. Since I am considerably technology impaired and it only took me about an hour, I am pretty damn proud of it. As soon as I send it to the printers I will post a picture here.

My next step will be making some of these awesome Angry Birds decorations. This site was so great, helpful, and just cute.

I realize this post is a little All About Me/Us/Me, but I just can't help it. It kinda feels like I am turning 10 again and since I don't really remember the first time - I can't help being just a little excited. :o)

I hate it when that happens.

2011-11-09T11:21:00.000-08:00

So, today was already gearing up to be a doozy. And then the law showed up.

First things first. When I got up, I logged onto Facebook just like I normally do, but unlike normal I found that my husband had posted a video to Facebook. To the normal folk this may seem innocuous. To "normal folk" I say, "My husband is not normal." He only joined Facebook a few weeks ago and since then this is a sample of our conversations regarding Facebook (Note: They all end the same way and they all take place when I am busy doing very important work):

Him: So, how do I "friend" people (insert any action you can do on Facebook)?
Me: You just search for them, and when their name comes up in the search box click on them. When you click on them it will say "Friend." Click on that and they will get a friend request from you.
Long pause.
Him: So, where's the search box?
Me: It should be in the upper part of all pages of Facebook. Your wall or home.
Another long pause.
Him: Home? Wall? I thought they were the same thing. Oh, okay. I see. So, I just friended someone, and I am not sure who they are. How do I "cancel" that?
Me: ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

So, imagine my shock and surprise when I logged in and saw that he had posted a video. And it was totally appropriate and cool. With a comment! On his own. Totally. I was so happy. And a little scared (which keep reading and you will find that was totally justified). I vowed that if it rained today I would stay inside...just to be safe. Little did I know getting struck by lightening would have been a picnic.

That was the first kinda weird thing that happened. Then, as I was just kind of fooling around at my desk, talking to a good friend on the phone, and planning out my day I saw something outside the window out of the corner of my eye. At first I thought it was a dog. Then upon a full-on head jerk and muttering that sounded something like, "WHAT THE %$&#?", I realized it was a coyote. I quickly said to my good friend, "I have to go. Sasquatch might be in my backyard. No one is going to believe this. I need to go take a picture. Call you later." Thankfully I was dressed, although not entirely appropriately (I'll just leave that part up to your imagination), so I grabbed the camera and raced outside to photograph him/her. I did this because in our house no one believes anything any other family member says unless said family member has verifiable proof (like a photo).

I sprinted into the area behind our house. This guy was moving fast, so I had to go clear into the neighbor's yard. It was just as I had gotten behind our neighbor's house (as in right behind their patio door) when this GINORMOUS owl/hawk/swan/flamingo looking bird SWOOPED out of the lower part of a nearby tree and flew right toward the coyote/wolf/dog/chupacabra. IT SCARED THE LIVING CRAP OUT OF ME. I did a thing that could only be described as Crazy Wail and Swat Like Mad and took off running back to my house.....with no photograph.

I immediately called my friend back to tell her what had happened, when I'll be damned if that sucker came sauntering BACK BY MY BACK DOOR like he was either 1. Taunting me, or 2. Giving me another opportunity to prove myself with a photo. So, I said, "CRAP! He's BACK." She said, "GO PHOTOGRAPH HIM." I said, "I'm kinda scared." She said, "Leave baby in the house because he might be hungry and grab a broom." As I write this now I realize that sounds pretty Crazy Town, but right then it sounded perfectly plausible. So, I grabbed a broom, the camera, and sprinted out again.

What my other neighbor would have seen behind his back fence had he been home (I am still praying he wasn't) was this: Me, wearing less than appropriate clothing, flailing a broom in one hand, sprinting across the wild land behind his back fence, chasing what I ~~think was a coyote~~ am sure was a coyote, while looking through the lens of a camera, trying not to trip, and glancing up above to make sure I was not eaten by an owl/hawk/big-ass bird.

This all prompted me to update my status on Facebook immediately after it was over:

just saw a coyote closer to our house than i've ever seen, so i go out to take a picture of him. as i am chasing him (camera in hand) this GIANT owl/hawk looking thing swoops down on him. let's just say i hope my neighbors are at work because i screamed, and started swatting at the air above my head while running for my life. i am not even kidding. i am now officially creeped out.

Now, had my excitement for the day ended there I would have been completely satisfied....but, it only got stranger. I went upstairs to take a shower and told baby to play quietly. Next thing I know, someone is BANGING on the door as I am standing in front of the mirror stark naked hair dripping wet (do not picture that it will only make you want to poke your eyes out with sharp sticks - I know that from personal experience). I figure it's my house cleaner and don't do anything. The banging continues and then becomes coupled with constant ringing. So, I thought what you are probably thinking now: Holy CRAP! Someone got eaten by the coyote and people now know (since I posted it on Facebook) that I know something about it!!!!!!!! SOMEONE IS IN IMMINENT DANGER!

That's why I put on some clothes (the inappropriate ones from earlier) and screamed for my baby. She came sauntering in. Frantically I said, "WHO IS IT? IS IT MS.--------(house cleaner)? WHO IS IT BABY????" And baby very calmly said, "No, mama. It's not Ms. ________, or Ms. (random friend), or Ms. (another friend)." I frantically said, "WELL WHO IS IT THEN???"

"It's a police officer. But, don't worry. He's not here to arrest you."

By that time I was down the stairs, it was too late to change my clothes.

Post script: Turns out baby was right. It was indeed a constable. He was not here to arrest me. He very calmly said he had papers to serve on hubby. Before you worry about hubby, no I did not serve divorce papers on him, it was not totally unexpected, and we are hoping it is something we can deal with. But, please imagine Officer M.'s surprise when I opened the door, dressed in my not entirely appropriate clothes, hair wet, and with my sweet baby saying, "See momma. It is a police officer, but I don't think he will arrest you." I hate it when that happens.

10 Signs That You Are Ready for Motherhood (from an actual mother)

2011-11-07T12:11:00.000-08:00

So, this weekend I filled out an adoption letter of recommendation for a good friend of mine. Now, if you know me well, you know that I have a long, unbelievable, and painful history with adoption. Filling out the form was bittersweet. Sweet because I cannot truly think of someone who is more filled with love to give to a child. Bitter because it brought up memories that although buried deep (and often forgotten) when brought to the surface are incredibly and surprisingly hurtful.

Coincidentally I also attended a baby shower yesterday. Since I am Old I have few opportunities to attend showers anymore. Most of my friends are "done," so I often think the next shower I attend I will be throwing...for my girls. This baby shower was grand. It was for someone who has become a friend of our family. She and her husband are some of the most generous, kind, and loving people you will meet. She has a way with kids (especially mine) that I rarely witness. She is a teacher of the highest quality. All of that aside, I love baby showers. There is typically great food that you can eat without utensils, a chance to win prizes doing things I tend to be really good at (because I have a whole slew of kids of my own), yummy cake, and a little goodie bag for adults. What's not to like? Baby showers represent everything grand about parenthood - precisely because the kids are usually not there yet. Kidding! Kind of.

We also had some unexpected news this weekend. We found out someone we know is expecting possibly before it would be considered "appropriate." Again, this news was met in a bittersweet way. Sweet because I can think of few times that I would not welcome a pregnancy. Bitter because I know the news of the pregnancy and subsequent parenthood could be an uphill battle.

In a nutshell I was all wrapped up in babies and parenthood this weekend.  These questions I either heard verbalized, or just had wandering around in my head. At the shower: Were the parents "ready" to be parents? Was the baby's room ready? Had they thought of everything? What else would need to be purchased? During the completion of the adoption paperwork: Did I know of any reasons why these people should not become parents? Were there any disturbing signs, for example, alcohol or narcotic use? Was this a "solid" marriage to the best of my knowledge? How do you know if someone is ready to be a parent?

Jeesh! This all got me thinking, and frankly, kinda panicked: With four kids, was I ready to be a parent? Was I ready to be a mom? After all, what were the signs you are ready? I don't remember seeing them. I could think of a fairly good list, but I thought I better do some research to find out what the experts were saying.  Thank God, that if you have the Internet, it's not hard to find out if you are ready to be a parent. It's also great to read how to be a "bad parent". And perhaps we could have just avoided this Ready for Motherhood question by knowing if we are ready to have sex in the first place. Sounds reasonable. The experts seem to have a lot to tell me. Although I thoroughly enjoyed reading these articles and many others, I am not sure these lists are comprehensive enough, and I am not sure that some of these people are actual parents or mothers.

That is the history behind the list that follows. If you are thinking of becoming a parent - this is just a starting place. Because I am a woman, I decided to modify my list to prospective moms (mostly). I highly recommend reading ALL the lists you can get your hands on. After all, they are the experts (I only play one on my blog). The more information you can get, the better. At its best, information will help provide a small insight into parenting/motherhood, at its worst it will actually make you think you are ready.

Are You Ready for Motherhood/Parenthood? 10 Signs to Help You Know

1. You are not concerned with your boobs. During pregnancy your boobs will inflate to the size of life rafts. After pregnancy they will become milk jugs to perform the natural act of breast-feeding. After you are done with breast-feeding they will look like deflated tires and have stretch marks on them at which time you will say, "Honey, I think we're ready to have another baby!" Adoptive moms may avoid this pitfall (no pun intended), but there is the newer trend to breastfeed your adoptive child (a trend I do not fully understand). Husbands/Partners will need to know that for a good two years breasts will just be another body part that performs a function (much like a.........hand).

2. You are happy with the clothes you have right now in your closet. Know that these are the clothes and clothing trends that will take you well into the next century. Okay, not that far. But, you will be wearing these clothes for a good two years. Longer if you manage to get pregnant or adopt another child soon. As the first article states quite truthfully, "Parenting is all consuming." Read: You will not have a lot of time for fashion trends and shopping for them. You might want to make sure your partner is happy with seeing you look like this (don't worry too much, though, because lack of sleep makes you forget a lot of stuff that may seem important now).

3. You are comfortable with all bodily functions. And if you are not, you can fake it appropriately. As a pregnant mom or as the husband of a pregnant woman you will come face to face (and often literally) with some body parts and functions you never knew were a part of life. Or, if you knew they were a part of life, you tried to ignore it. Now, if you are adopting, don't think you are off the hook. Know that babies can do some pretty funky things......that are not in the Parenting Books. GET TO KNOW IT. These "things" go under the names of: Projectile vomiting, reflux, meconium (if you are not familiar with that - you may want to look it up...STAT!), diarrhea, etc., etc.

4. You function adequately on zero to two hours of sleep. Some babies don't sleep. They are not sick, they are not colicky, they are not crazy. They just don't sleep. It will be your job to take care of that baby should they be yours. Make sure you are up to it.

5. You have a partner you trust through and through and who will tell you if you are going insane.  Babies are a lot of work. This can really not be emphasized enough. The amount of work does not decrease as the baby grows. It just changes and morphs into another kind of work. I recommend you have a partner/a husband/a soul mate.  I also recommend you truly know this person because you may go several weeks without actually speaking to your partner (depending on what The Baby is doing) except in passing or on the phone.  If this should happen to you, it's helpful to know and trust your partner so that you are not surprised or offended (for example) when the person who was Pre-children immensely concerned with personal hygiene has forgotten to brush his/her teeth for two days.  It is also incredibly helpful to have someone who will gently (or forcefully - depending on the circumstances) tell you (or vice versa): YOU ARE CRAZY TOWN.

6. You can imagine baby's pee, poop, vomit, spit-up, or any other secretion that might come out of baby on your favorite _____________________________ (fill in the blank, for example:  leather couch, seat of your clean car, favorite silk blouse, white carpet, draperies that cost $1000/panel, etc.). And after imagining this you will not want to cry and lose all control. If you think I am kidding - - I am not.

7. You can go a while without a pedicure, a manicure, teeth whitening, botox injections, a decent hair-cut, or eyebrow waxing. Now, with most my list I am talking to The Masses - not Angelina Jolie. So, if you are Angelina Jolie - don't read my list. If you aren't - read on! It's not that you won't get these personal hygiene things, it just might not be on the timeline you had before baby. So, for example, you may be more concerned with BRUSHING your hair than actually having a great hair style (that's just an example - I can think of many, many more).

8. You can dumb down your vocabulary and your topic of conversation at any time for any reason. Quite honestly a lot of your early parenting will focus on pee and poop. If you are unable to sustain a conversation about theses topics for about 30 minutes than you may want to consider that. You will also find yourself muttering things that are just.........insane to people who do not have children. Sample conversation of actual parents (with actual college degrees):
Husband: Did she just say da? I think she just said da? Honey, did you hear that?
Wife: She sure did. Did you just say "da"??? Oh yes you did. You are the smartest baby.
Husband: There! She said it again! I'm sure now. Call my dad. SHE JUST SAID DA!!!
Wife: Do you think she said "DA?" Or was it "DOG?" OH MY GOSH!!! She's only TWO WEEKS. DID SHE JUST SAY DOG???
Husband: My God! Forget my dad - call the paper!

9. You are able to delay your own personal needs temporarily (or sometimes permanently - depending on how many kids you have) for the needs of your children. Example: You are going to need a lot of caffeine in the first weeks of parenthood (see #4). Sometimes it's impossible to get the caffeine down in a timely or urgent enough manner. You need to be okay with that. Imagine you are headed downstairs to get your coffee and baby (upon hearing you trying to have a peacful cup of coffee) wakes up an hour early and starts crying wanting to be fed. You go back upstairs and cheerfully (that's important) get baby and go to either breast feed her or bottle feed her. This requires use of your hands (as does changing her poopy diaper) which you realize (after trying!) you cannot do while holding your cup of steaming hot coffee. I hope I have illustrated that appropriately (this is just ONE of a million examples).

10. Last, but not least. You are willing to love another being so much that it will hurt your heart, widen your smile, and make you want to be a much, much better person each and every second of each and every day that you are blessed with being together.

That's my list. I wish the very best of luck and many, many blessings to all prospective parents out there!  Parenthood continues to be the best ride of my life.

Halloween. Not necessarily for the kids.

2011-11-03T11:31:00.000-07:00

This is what I love about Halloween:

The real thing.

Resemblance shocking.

Oh my. Hope yours was ghastly.

Thank you, public education for keeping me sober. This week. So far.

2011-10-26T12:15:00.000-07:00

So, it's no secret how I feel about Red Ribbon Week. Although, I must say it kinda seems like my kids' elementary school decision-makers read my blog post last year *gasp*. I say this, because this year Red Ribbon Week Schedule has actually been...manageable. Since the majority of the people in the world are not reading my blog, I suspect what actually happened was that they had someone serving on the Very Important Committee That Makes Red Ribbon Week Decisions who actually has a child. In public school. Participating in Red Ribbon Week. *GASP* The first step in making it a successful year (in keeping parents sober) was sending the Red Ribbon Week Schedule home a WEEK EARLY. So great. We had one full week to prepare ~~and buy crap we don't need~~ this year. Thank you, public education! ~~I will not mention how a few people thought that because the note went home a week early, Red Ribbon Week was October 17-21.~~ ~~Therefore their kids showed up at school all peace-ed out for no good reason. Nor, will I gloat by saying: -I was not one of those people!~~

Here's the 2011 Red Ribbon Week Run-Down (and although I am delighted at not wanting to drink heavily after reading it, I must admit I am a tad disappointed in the lack of fanfare, chaos, and household fighting):

Monday - Say Peace Out To Drugs. Wear your tie-dye shirts and/or peace symbols. Since both of my girls love peace symbols and since the nine year old boy is content this year with, "Just saying no," I really have no comment on this. But, I would be remiss if I did not repeat what I said last year. If you remember the 70's - you were not there. So, I remain conflicted about invoking the "Peace" symbol as a symbol of No Drugs. It seems a bit like a mixed message. Girl 1 and 2 left the house looking cute as bugs and as far as I know they remained drug free all day.

Tuesday - Don't Let Drugs Give You The Blues. Wear your blue jeans. Fabulous! I almost thought it was a joke when I read it - it was so easy. It seemed a little surreal. Like I had been serving on the committee and I had said, "Why not just something simple that everyone already has. *Insert long pause.* Like BLUE JEANS?!" No blue hair? No obscure outfit from the 40's? No "paint your face two different colors"??? This one seems to have been made for Slacker Moms like me. After all, what sane kid living in America doesn't have a pair of jeans??? I'll tell you what kid. Girl 2. She has not one pair of jeans. She hates jeans. She hasn't worn jeans since she was two and I forced her into them. Hubby says she has "sensory issues." I say she likes to drive her mom crazy when shopping for clothes. I digress, and either way - SHE DOESN'T HAVE JEANS. So, there was ONE unhappy camper in my house yesterday morning. BUT, it's okay - because this did not make me want to drink a beer. Just a teensy bit. Girl 1 and Boy Child left with jeans on and remained drug free all day (as far as I know). I think Girl 2, despite not wearing jeans, remained drug-free too.

Wednesday - (Pay attention because here's where it gets tricky.) My Future Shines Bright Drug-Free. Wear your shades to school. So, typically people with sensory issues don't like stuff on their faces. But, Girl 2 agreed to wear some of my old sunglasses and Girl 1 did, too (What are the odds that I kept two pairs of old sunglasses??? It's creepy.). Boy Child agreed to wear some of his dad's sunglasses. Sa-weet. Our first day participating in drug-free week as a family. I was positively giddy and wanted a cocktail to celebrate! Then: As soon as I got back from delivering them all to the bus stop - I found all three pairs of glasses sitting on the table. I pray they can resist the temptations today without their eye wear.

Thursday - Life is a journey, Travel Drug Free. Wear a shirt from another city, state or country. Now, my comment on this one is just going to be a quick re-cap of the conversation I had with Girl 1 two weeks ago when the Red Ribbon Schedule first came home.

Girl 1 - (Diligently reading me the entire Red Ribbon Week Schedule and inserting her own cute little eight-year-old comments.) Thursday Life is a journey. Travel Drug Free. Wear a shirt from another city, state or country. Ha-ha. That's funny, mom 'cuz y'know what I thought at first?
Me - No, what?
Girl 1 - That it was okay to do drugs in another place like another country or city or state. But, just not in your own home or place where you live. Hahahahahahahaha. THAT would be ridiculous, huh?
Me: Yes. That would be ridiculous.

Enough said.

Friday - Insert Elementary School Name and Mascot are PROUD to be Drug-free. Wear your spirit shirts. I love this one. We all have spirit shirts and we all like to wear them. I will NOT even drink a celebratory beer for this one..............well, maybe............................but just one.

It's Wednesday and I am proud to say we are all drug-free so far. No one has a shirt from another city, state, country, or planet (we have four kids and are too poor to travel), so the jury is still out on whether we will remain drug-free for the week. But, it seems Red Ribbon Week just keeps getting better and better. Frankly, I am excited for what 2012 has to offer me in terms of tricks to stay drug-free. Good luck staying drug-free, friends and HAPPY RED RIBBON WEEK!

What's Wrong With Kids These Days???

2011-10-21T06:58:00.000-07:00

Remember the good 'ole days when we had "gym" not "physical education"? And it was all about public humiliation and popularity not self-esteem, cooperation, and actually being physically fit? Well, apparently in the New Age Physical Education real-life games and the rules of real-life games are not actually taught. Or even implied. This was brought to the front and center recently when my husband suggested we play dodge ball as a family. This was the collective response from our kids, "What's dodge ball?"

Now, you guys remember DODGE BALL, right? The game where you desperately tried to escape being hit with this largish red rubber ball that actually hurt when it hit you??? It was fun, right? It usually came right between tug-of-war (when you got actual rope burns on your hands) and climbing all the way up that rope net thing (a "sport" only soldiers have to do now).

So, you can imagine what hubby said when our kids admitted to not having a clue what Dodge Ball was, "YOU GUYS DON'T KNOW WHAT DODGE BALL IS??? WHAT DO YOU KNOW???" (I am not even kidding.) Then to me quietly (well, not really because he doesn't know how to be quiet), "What the hell do they teach these kids in public school now-a-days?"

After a lot of necessary bruising while hubby and I schooled the kids on dodge ball something even more alarming was brought to my attention. Kids are not playing Kick Ball anymore.

I find this shocking and frankly, I am appalled.

Going back (don't worry I'll go quickly) to my elementary school years when the Gym Coach looked like Janet Reno, kick ball was a game I could excel at. Well, maybe excel is a bit generous. Let's just say I could play it. I have few to none athletic abilities and I pretty much hate all sports (which is why I ran track in high school - I learned to run somewhat quickly to escape being hit with a dodge ball - or any ball - by kids who were much more athletic than I was). But, Kick Ball? Now, there was a game I could actually play. The ball is big so less danger of 1. Getting hurt seriously - large bruises, but less black eyes, 2. Not missing it when it is coming right toward you, 3. The rules are the same or close to the same as baseball (which, seriously, even a Sport Moron like me can keep up with baseball).

Since I have few memories of crying and throwing up when we played kick ball in Gym, I have decided to make it my personal mission to teach my kids how to play kick ball. This comes right on the heels of teaching them to play Two Square (I won't even go into how they didn't know how to play THAT???). The craziness that has ensued is far too much to be able to relate here, so I have made you a short list that I call:

Kick Ball - The Train Wreck

1. My kids have never been involved in organized sports and learning the rules of sport. No organized sports here - except BMX where the goal is pretty simple: finish without dying. The actual rules are too complicated for me and someone is usually there to tell you what to do when you are not dead so no one new really has to learn all the rules. You can tell they've never had to learn sport rules when you try to TEACH THEM RULES OF A SPORT. It's a bit like herding cats.
2. My kids have no concept of bases. This is difficult because sometimes STILL (even though we have talked about "running the bases") they will run after each other, ball in hand, all the way to the neighbor's house in an attempt to get the other person out. I guess "making it to First Base" is a lost concept on my kids. And I don't know if I am happy or frightened.
3. I am often laughing so hard I have to sit down at my "designated area" (since we don't have enough people to man every post which only adds to the general confusion which is our game). When I do this the kids scream, "MOM! STAND UP! ARE YOU OKAY? WHY ARE YOU CRYING? Wait. ARE YOU LAUGHING? MOM, ARE YOU LAUGHING AT US???"
4. My kids really have trouble with the concept of ghost players. Now, again: Remember ghost runners??? This was a loved concept from my childhood and apparently this is not being taught in public education??? What the heck? The first time I called, "Okay. Ghost runner." My kids looked at me like I was CRAZY TRAIN.
5. Since my kids don't play organized sports (I am assuming this is the reason - couldn't be because they are just bossy and rude.) they have no concept of a team sport. There is no huddling, strategizing, or passing the ball. This often results in one player running to get the ball and then proceeding to chase the runner around the neighborhood. This while all of my kids are screaming at whoever that they are playing wrong. And as I said in #3 THIS results in me having to sit down and laugh. Then my kids start screaming at me.
6. The mosquitoes are as big as cats where we live right now. If you are wondering what this has to do with kick ball, don't worry it will be crystal clear in a second. Last night during our game this happened several times: We would all seem to be semi-understanding the play and the roller would roll/bounce (a seemingly simple concept none of them have quite mastered is: rolling the ball) the ball to the kicker. The kicker would then suddenly see a mosquito and begin to swat at it (none of us could, of course, see the mosquito). This would result in everyone else beginning to laugh at that person (because they looked kinda like a CRAZY PERSON). Then the person who was swatting at said mosquito would scream, "WHAT??? What are you laughing at? I am trying to KILL A MOSQUITO." Meanwhile someone would scream, "STRIKE 1." To which the kicker would scream, "NO FAIR! I WASN'T READY! I WAS TRYING TO KILL A MOSQUITO." Then #3.

My conclusion? This is what I have so far:

1. P.E. is not even remotely close to the Gym I grew up with.
2. I am slightly relieved, but wonder a little about what they are missing.
3. This change in the nature of P.E. could be the root cause of bullying, teen pregnancy, and drop-outs. KIDDING.....kind of.
4. I maintain the utmost respect for P.E. teachers everywhere and I think possibly my kids' could be the reason they are not attempting to teach team sports in school.
5. I might die soon of an injury sustained while teaching my kids all the ~~crap~~ skills they are not being taught in P.E.
6. If I die, I will die laughing.

That's all. If you are depressed, come over and play a game of kick ball with us and the mosquitoes tonight. It promises to bring you out of your funk.

Age like Jagger.

2011-10-20T09:58:00.000-07:00

Pinterest! Y'know - between Lite beer from Miller and dark chocolate.

2011-10-19T07:01:00.000-07:00

Don't mind me, the piles of dirty laundry, the dishes in the sink, the hungry kids wandering around - I have been really busy PINNING. I'm kinda addicted. Years behind the trend (as usual), I cannot really stop.

Short list explaining my addiction to Pinterest and why my blog may be temporarily interrupted.

1. I have no pressure to: be witty, make friends, find friends, experience rejection, post cute pictures of my kids, update my status (ideally to something more witty), or "check-in." Pinterest is all about me! What's not to love?

2. Finally a place to "pin" all the critical crap so that I can remember what I was like later when my memory is completely gone. My Favorite Drinks, My Birthday Party Guest List When I Am Famous, Things I Miss About the 80's, Things I Want To Do, But Know I Will Never Do, But Just In Case, and on, and on, and on.

3. It's so much more fun than housework, laundry, parent-teacher conferences, cooking, and cleaning.

That's all I got. When I find my boards are sufficient I will get back with you with a worthy post about world peace or something.

nothing says Happy Halloween like calling 911 from the corn maze.

2011-10-13T08:57:00.000-07:00

In case you missed it:

My sister constantly scourges the Internet looking for bizarre tidbits that I need to know (but not at work - because then she would be fired). I got this yesterday afternoon from her and I am sorry that when I got it the Baby was having a meltdown because I wouldn't let her eat candy before dinner. I had to ignore Baby until I finished laughing (which was just a few minutes ago).

I am forced to surmise that first 911 call since we don't have the transcript from that one.

Operator: 911. What's your emergency?

Woman in distress: Hello, 911? I'M STUCK IN A CORN MAZE.

Operator (signaling for all his fellow operators to huddle near the phone in a "get a load of this" motion): You say you're stuck in a corn maze?

Woman in distress: YES.

Operator (holds hand over receiver to stifle wild laughter from him and his co-workers): Ma'am, I'm not sure I understand the nature of the emergency. Aren't people supposed to get stuck in corn mazes?

Woman in distress: Yes, but I am with my two children - one is a newborn - and I can't find the way out.

Operator (trying to concentrate as his fellow operators frantically scribble things on cue cards for him to say, "ARE YOU NUTS?" "WHAT KINDA CRAZY IS THIS?" "WHERE THE F IS THE HIDDEN CAMERA?": Okay. (swallowing hard) Is anyone with you besides your children?

Woman in distress: Well, my husband is here.

Click.

My sister and I decided several things via email this morning:

1. We agree this indeed was a "nightmare" and this woman needs to keep her post-partum crazy HOME.
2. We are both happy that she is not a close friend. But, part of us (okay maybe just me) wish we knew her just so that we could say, "I like you, but you are FREAKIN' NUTS!"
3. We agreed to be careful in the future when calling 911 because it might be on msnbc later and cause embarrassment to our friends.
4. The humor in: "She takes the baby out ONE time and now the whole family is traumatized." was not lost on us. "That will teach her to take the baby out." (And, I am quoting my sister, not myself - I would never be that sarcastic...that was sarcasm, right?)
5. (And my sister didn't actually agree to this one, but I know she will once she reads my post.) I may want to call this-kinda-crazy Flowers in the Attic Crazy.
6. We think possibly her husband had no sense of direction......Therefore he was.............another woman?

On the other hand, I am going to see if I can friend Bob Connors on Facebook because he sounds like a happy picnic. What I know about him that makes me want to be his friend (virtually and otherwise): he wanted people to get lost in his corn maze, he made it in the shape of the Headless Horseman, he likes to give people their money's worth (who wouldn't love that?), he has a "funny feeling" that because of this "harrowing journey" it's going to be a "busy season."

That is all.

Sometimes it's just not funny.

2011-10-12T08:12:00.000-07:00

These past few weeks of my life have been decidedly "not funny." So, bear with me as I veer away from my normally caustically sarcastic self and give you just a Plain Post. If you are against Plain Posts, I will not be offended. I promise when I am feeling better I will tell you the other more humorous stories milling about in my head. What the heck has happened to Axel Rose? My Life in Cleaning Episodes, and some practical parenting tips. Meanwhile - I am focusing on what makes me in love rather than what makes me want to poke out my eyes out with sharp sticks. So, here is my melancholy list for today.

What I Love...
1. When my kids crack me up in a big way and it is totally unexpected and ironic. Example: Last night all of my four were having meltdowns of various size and scope AT THE SAME TIME. Incomprehensibly, I found this hilarious and literally could not stop laughing. My kids were hurt and disappointed in my lack of compassion (Girl 1's exact words) *bad mommy*. This only made me laugh harder.
2. The delightful things. Girl 1 wrote a story a few nights ago. She often does this, so I've read many "The Amazing Rabbit," "The Tales of Sammy Squirrel," "The Girl Who Loved Stuffed Animals," ad naseum (kind of because it is darn cute). The thing that made this one stand out was this: "About the Author." And here's what she wrote, "The author lives in San Antonio, Texas. She is married and has two children. Writing has always been her passion." I am not posting the actual text because I promised (in a fit of weakness) to not post it on Facebook, my blog, or "anywhere else on your computer." But, isn't that delightful? Try to read that without smiling.
3. Enduring love. Did anyone say love was easy? If they did, sorry. I missed it. It just sounds like something my mom would have said to me, "Y'know, honey, love is not easy. But enduring love is the best thing. Ever."
4. When someone stands up for what is right even though that is sometimes really difficult to do.
5. That I will catch my mom in my sisters. I have more sisters than the Jehovah's and I love them all. I had the chance to see two of them in the same week. And in the short time we were together I saw glimpses of my mom. That brings me a lot of comfort and joy.
6. Halloween. Best. Night. Ever. (Even though it usually starts with serious family dysfunction and ends with one child in a total and complete sugar high melt-down. To the ground.)
7. Cooking ahead of time. Now, this is a bit Betty Crocker/Martha Stewartish for me but I must admit it has saved me these past few weeks when cooking has really not been my focus.
8. Reading blogs that make me laugh. Out loud. I don't laugh easily and recently I have stumbled upon a blog that really has made me laugh. Since I've shared many of my favs with you, I will share this one as well. Thanks bloggers!
9. Good friends who stay through thick and thin.
10. and, because I love round numbers. I really love when someone gives me something to think about. Here is what I have been thinking about for a few weeks: What are you doing today that years from now you will look back on and be happy about? What are you doing today that years from now you will look back on and regret?

That's all I got. Sorry if it was too straight-laced for you - I will be back to "normal" soon (after menopause is over - JOKING...kind of). Peace!

I like you, Joe Corbi. But just as a friend.

2011-10-06T11:21:00.000-07:00

This one's going to be short and sweet. You all know about the Joe Corbi "affair." I'm back to tell you - we remain friends. I do, however, have three suggestions for Joe that I think will increase his profits (not really, but I bet people would just like him more). I have titled my list

My Suggestions to Joe Corbi

1. Show all of your items in your glossy next to a Coke can (or a beer can since most moms feel the urge to drink a cold one when it comes to fund raising). Now, that is not really my idea but a good friends' idea. Sadly, she does not have a blog, so I will just have to steal her idea for my blog. Thank you, friend! Because I really care about you, Joe, I am going to tell you why this would be so helpful. When I was picking up my items I was frantically searching for what I had ordered (the rest of the people be damned) and I couldn't see my Cheesecake Sampler (which I had considered sampling on the way home). Turns out it was right in front of my eyes. Problem was I was looking for a huge box like the one in the glossy. The box I had was teeny tiny. I guess that's why you call it a Sampler? Needless to say, it wasn't sampled on the way home - it was eaten.

2. Consider a little higher quality for your student fund raising rewards. Now, I must say I am delighted beyond belief to now have seen a &*%$ Cell Phone Radio with Light. But, I am positively dreading the day (later this weekend or tonight) when it breaks. It is CHEAP like a chicken clucking, Joe. The kind of sad part about that is that I think Boy Child had to sell like 1,546 items to get it. Just seems to me like you could give back a little.

3. Do not make substitutions. Now, if you read my open letter to you, Joe I hope you got a feel for how hard it is to sell this stuff to good hard working Americans. And, I also hope you understand that I have to look these people in the eyes every morning when we are leaving for our days. So, when they order the Ham and Cheese Calzones and actually get the Philly Cheesesteak Sandwiches this is a Big Deal. It just doesn't sit right with any of us. Please, Joe. Do whatever you have to do - hire more help in the kitchen (Lord knows the cheesecake sampler maker peeps have a little free time). Help me keep the few neighbors I have that still will speak to me.

That's it. I promised short and sweet and I have delivered. My time with Joe has come to an end, but I like to think we are still friends. It's been a good ride overall and I look forward to our meeting sometime next year (no, I don't really but that sounded good on my blog).

Have a great weekend, friends. Know that I will be eating my cinnamon rolls and listening (kind of) to crying about the ~~stupid~~ cell phone thingie breaking and the 18" pencil not really writing and WHY CAN'T WE GET IN A BOX WITH MONEY FLYING AROUND??? Peace.

A turtle. You know? The cute and cuddly kind.

2011-09-29T09:02:00.000-07:00

So, I am not a pet lover. If this is an unfavorable trait, I blame my mother. She was not a pet lover and I think I inherited this distaste from her. In my lifetime, I have loved two pets and they are now dead. One was an incredibly dumb/smart golden retriever named, Maverick who we had nearly from birth and the other was a demon possessed cat named Quentin who came to us because we needed to learn a lesson. This post is not about them, but just for the sake of background...

Maverick was a golden retriever. What else can I say? They beg you to love them and really you are rendered defenseless and often find yourself doing ridiculous things like crying on their "shoulder," feeding them scraps of bacon from your breakfast plate, popping popcorn just for the "two of you," and laughing saying it's "cute" when they eat the just barbecued chicken you have been waiting for hours to eat.

Quentin. What can I say? He was an awful, evil, hateful, fat cat that I loved from the night he spent outside our bedroom window meowing louder than any cat should ever be capable of doing begging us to feed him and give him a home. He bit neighbors, my mother-in-law, small children, and anyone else who was irritating him or just breathing. He often bit me. When I was feeding him.

Another side note (because I am in a rambling kind of mood today): I hate it when people discover that I like some dogs better than some cats and say in that gushing and condescending way some pet lovers have, "Oh, so you're a dog lover?" I desperately want to say, "No. I am a pet hater. I do not discriminate." But, in this world that often seems worse than admitting to spanking your kids in anger. NOT saying I have done that.

September 2011 - All of my kids (including that pestery three year old) want a pet. Damn them. My excuses are wearing thin and their whinyness about it is wearing me out. There is something to be said about persistence (ask hubby). So....get ready for the Bonus Parenting Tip for this post......when your kids ask for a dog - Say "no," but instead promise a TURTLE.

Yeah. Now, I am second guessing myself. What the heck? A turtle? I sort of promised Girl 1(and maybe the other three) a turtle for Christmas. And, shhhhh, because I haven't told hubby. Now, I am realizing this was totally wrong, but I am afraid we are too deep into the insanity to backtrack easily. Here is a recap of how the backsliding went:

Some random child of mine: Can we have a dog?
Me: No.
SRCM: Can we have a cat?
Me: No.
SRCM: Can we have a gerbil?
Me: No.
SRCM: Can we have a mink?
Me: Hell to the no.
SRCM: WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY?
Me: (Insert any answer you want here.) Because they require responsibility. Because they require money. Because they poop. Because they stink. Because they pee. Because we go on vacation and can hardly afford that. Because mommy hates pets. Because we might develop allergies.
SRCM: Can we have any pet with fur?
Me: No.
SRCM: Can we have fish?
(This is another blog post. I had fish as a child and they all committed suicide.)
Me: Um, no.
SRCM: How about a turtle?
Me: Hmm.

The kids heard the weakness and pounced.

So, now Santa MIGHT be bringing a turtle. I don't want to totally alienate you dear readers, so I will not expound on how much I hate Santa right now. Just use your imagination.

SRCM: So, what kind of turtle? A tortoise? Is that legal? Will we be kicked out of our neighborhood?
Me: NO, NOT A TORTOISE. WHAT ARE YOU KIDS? NUTS??? TORTOISES AREN'T EVEN REAL. THEY ONLY LIVE AT ZOOS.
SRCM: So, what kind of turtle, mom????
Me: YOU KNOW. A CUTE CUDDLY TURTLE.

Pray for me. It's getting deep in here.

You didn't tell me there would be snacks.

2011-09-26T11:31:00.000-07:00

So, this post falls into Life's Disappointments. You know Those People (or you might actually be Those People) who never really put effort into things and it seems they just have good luck? Fortune just comes their way? Well, last week brought a family lesson on Those People. Here's how it went down.

About three weeks ago Girl #1 became giddy about the prospect of being in an organization called Student Council. I may have predated Student Council as it pertains to elementary school but, Girl #1 quickly brought me up to speed by telling me:
1. Being in Student Council is as important as picking the university you go to, and getting married.
2. The Student Council makes critical decisions in the school - such as what to sell in the PTA Christmas ~~Crap~~ Store
2. and being an effective Student Council representative requires organization (a skill Girl #1 assured me she has even though her room, closet, and Yukon seat show no signs of it).

She explained to me how in third grade there are two representatives - a boy and a girl. From ALL OF THIRD GRADE JUST TWO STUDENTS ARE PICKED. By the teachers. She told me she could name about 10 people from just her class who were applying. She also explained that in fourth and fifth grade there are more representatives and sometimes they are just picked by the teacher and don't have to apply. I found it all rather confusing and considered calling her teacher and attempting to bribe her into picking Girl 1.

But like any good mother would, I decided against bribery. And instead, I encouraged Girl #1 to write an application letter for Student Council. This was done with much fanfare. She wrote, rewrote, proofed, wrote again, and then repeated all of those about 27 times. It was exhausting and all I did was encourage and mutter, "Mm-hmm." We had many (and by "many" I mean over 100) discussions that went something like this:

Girl: Mom, do you think they'll pick me?
Me: Well, honey, I don't know. You are doing your best and that is all we can do. I certainly think you are the most qualified person for the job and your application is going to be outstanding.
Girl: Yeah, but do you think they'll PICK me?
Me: Again, baby, there is really no way to know for sure.
Girl: Well, I just want to be in Student Council so bad. I just really, really, really, really hope they pick me.
Me: I know, baby. I know.

Now, after a few days of this kind of talk it became apparent to me that we would have a family World War III if Girl #1 was not picked. And, because we are lucky, part of me knew that that was precisely what would happen. I just never imagined it would happen quite like it did.

Two Fridays ago I picked everyone up from school like I always do. About 10 minutes into our ride home Boy calmly with not too much excitement said, "Hey, mom. I almost forgot to tell you. I am in student council."

Before I could say, "WHAT??? YOU DIDN'T EVEN APPLY OR WANT TO BE IN STUDENT COUNCIL," there was a loud shriek/howl from Girl #1 and I think she said, "WHAT DO YOU MEAN??? YOU CAN'T BE IN STUDENT COUNCIL. YOU DIDN'T EVEN WANT TO BE IN STUDENT COUNCIL. DID YOU???? DID YOU???? OH MY GOSH. DID YOU WANT TO BE IN STUDENT COUNCIL AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME??? I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO BE IN STUDENT COUNCIL FOR LIKE A WEEK NOW. YOU STOLE THIS FROM ME. YOU THIEF. YES. YOU ARE A THIEF. YOU STOLE THIS. THE SCHOOL IS NEVER GOING TO PICK ME NOW BECAUSE I AM YOUR SISTER. I AM NOT FORGIVING YOU."

Fast forward to Girl #1 not being picked. And numerous talks about: how she did her best, how sometimes we do our best and things still don't work out, how we can still be happy for the winners, how brother did not intentionally do this to hurt her, how teachers don't know everything that goes on in every one's homes (thank you, Jesus), how sometimes people get things that they don't ask for or even particularly want that we DO want, how we are called to forgive those who hurt us, how this will not be the last disappointment she will ever have, how some people just sometimes "get stuff" or "get A's" without even studying, etc., etc.

If it sounds simultaneously melodramatic and traumatic, it was. Times about 200. If you are thinking it must have taken her a while to "get over it," you are astute. It did. It took a few days, but I was sure she was over it. She had told me and hubby that she understood everything we had talked about, that she was proud of her efforts, and that she had indeed done her best.

Fast forward again to last Wednesday when I picked up the two girls. Brother stayed for the first Student Council meeting of the year. Girl 1 got in the Yukon and silently started sobbing.

Me: What's wrong?
Girl 1: It's Student Council meeting day.
Me: I know, baby. But, remember we talked about that? Remember everything we talked about?
Girl 1: I know all that, mom. But you didn't tell me they would have snacks at their meetings!!! They are having M&M's and Goldfish and you know those are my favorites.

Sometimes it is not the big stuff, it's the small stuff. Here's to not sweating the small stuff and I hope you have a fabulous week. :o)

Dead or Alive? I have no idea.

2011-09-20T10:37:00.000-07:00

I had a completely different post for today about the discipline mistakes mothers make (and by "mothers" I mean "me"), but in case you haven't heard: BOB HOPE'S WIFE DIED. R.I.P. So, I will have to post this instead.

Yesterday I told you how I have a poor memory for details. Well, this makes it really hard to remember who is dead and who is alive. I am not talking about people I know personally (I'd like to think I have a handle on that - just don't sit still for too long.) or people who died notorious deaths (for example - Michael Jackson). I am talking about people who are more elusive like say - - Paul Newman and some politicians. I'll give you a couple examples so that you will know where I am coming from.

Recently I attended a birthday party for my brother and someone had Paul Newman salad dressing. Some party goers were wondering who could be making the dressing now that Paul Newman had died. I said something like, "HOLD THE PHONE. He's not DEAD!" There was a little polite laughter ("polite" as in "she's clearly nuts") and then some commenting about how yes, he was indeed dead and had in fact died quite some time ago.

Now, I think I have already told you hubby is like Google. He is the knower of All Facts That No One Really Cares About. So, naturally I:
1. Never play trivial pursuit with him, and
2. Consult him on all facts that I do not know (which covers basically: All Facts).

So, here is what I texted him immediately from the party:

My text: paul newman. dead or alive?

His text: dead. where will we get our dressing?

I couldn't text him back because I was so shocked. I hate it when I am dealt a death blow right before the salad course.

This phenomena of Not Knowing Who Is Dead and Who Is Alive often happens to me with politicians as well. I can never remember if they are dead or alive. AND THIS IS NOT A POLITICAL COMMENTARY. I HATE POLITICS OF ALL KIND. THIS IS STRICTLY TO ILLUSTRATE HOW BAD MY MEMORY IS.

George Washington - Haha! Dead....................Right?

JFK - dead. I can remember that. Although, the how? and when? are still a little sketchy and possibly conspiratorial in my mind.

Ronald Reagan - dead. I can remember it because it seemed he died and then two weeks later I turned on the TV and he was still dying.

Richard Nixon's wife? Hmm. Now, there's a toss up. Dead? Possibly. Alive? Possibly. I'm thinking - dead, but could be like 114??? This would definitely be a "consult hubby" and also a sarcastic comment from hubby in reply. Such as: You have a master's degree????

To keep me on my toes hubby will sometimes play a game with me that we call Dead or Alive. Totally irreverent for some (if you are one of those "some" then "sorry"). He throws out a name and I have to say "dead" or "alive." He may do this to chastise me for not knowing any facts or he may do this to see how bad my Bad Memory is progressing. It doesn't matter because I usually fail miserably on both counts.

Now, all this about politicians and Paul Newman is just a little history for you so that you would understand what happened this morning when hubby greeted me with the news that Bob Hope's wife had died.

Hubby: Hey babe. I see here (as he had the newspaper spread out in front of him) that Bob Hope's wife died.

Me: Bob Hope's?

Hubby: Yes. She was 102.

Me: Wow. I thought she was dead. I'm sure Bob will be sad. And, how old does that make him?

Hubby: You're kidding, right?

Me: Huh?

To sum up: Bob Hope and his wife are now dead, friends. They were both really old when they died. Try to remember that. I was greeted with this sad news before my morning coffee. No worries, though because thankfully I have had time to recover from the news of "no more salads for me" since I am not sure who is now making the Paul Newman salad dressing. Here's to memory and a mostly happy Tuesday!

What? Where? And, remind me - WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?

2011-09-19T07:31:00.000-07:00

It's Monday. So, since it's already a tough day, can we talk about aging for a minute? It sucks. I have decided to share a few tidbits from another list that I have been working on for about three years now. I call it:

Aging Sucks. Don't Let Anyone Tell You Any Different

Side note: It's baby's third birthday today. Now, when I'm dead and baby (hopefully she will go by her given name by then) reads my blog lovingly over and over trying to remember what a witty and wise mom she had I do not want her to think that I was only thinking about myself on HER third birthday. So, this is for you, baby, when you are old and known by your real name, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY! I LOVE YOU AND I AM SO HAPPY YOU CAME INTO MY LIFE!"

Okay. On with what I'm thinking about today. If you are Where I Am let this be a refresher list for you. If you are not Where I Am, let this be a warning. If you are past Where I Am - God bless ya, be glad you are still alive, grab your bi-focals, and have a good laugh at how you used to be. By the way - Where I Am is somewhere between 30 and 50........WITH A THREE YEAR OLD.

1. At some point you will have to wear bi-focals. Let me tell you why these are a raw deal. First a short history in opthamology: When you were born you had excellent vision. You could see through walls. As you aged you may have gone the route of glasses or contacts. Or you may have been one of the lucky ones who skipped through Life Under 40 with nothing but your naked eyes. BUT, you will know you are close to 40 or 40 because one day you will wake up and not be able to see the directions on the medicine you are either taking or dispensing. It's a little disturbing at first. You will go to the eye doctor and he will do an irritating test where he says, "Is it 1 or 2? A or B? C or D? 3 or 4?" Until you think you have failed the SAT. Then he will tell you, "You need bi-focals. It happens when you get old." This will make you want to say, "Thanks, eye doctor. Now, go suck an egg." At first your bi-focals will be fun and cute (like a new puppy). But, then you will lose them, have to purchase like 10 pairs to keep all over, and you will forget what "prescription" you need when you are at the actual store where they SELL bifocals (You will stand before the racks of bifocals saying to yourself, "Is it negative 3 or 4, 4 or 5, 6 or 7????"). It's all terribly annoying. AND, forget about texting. Don't feel bad about not being able to read the text because there is no way you will be able to text back. Squint and figure out who is texting and then pick up your home phone (Remember those? You're gonna need one again.) and call them. Hopefully they are a reader of this blog, so they will know what the hell is going on.

2. Your hearing will gradually go. At first this will be a grand excuse to ignore your kids, hubby, and friends (like when they are reminding you you owe them money). But, then you will find you actually need your hearing and not having it can, frankly, be embarrassing. Here are a few examples:

The school (where your kids go) calls and tells you, "Blahblahwhooblah, blah is in the nurse's office. It seems blahwhoohasoma." You say, "WHO? WHAT HAPPENED?" The nurse patiently repeats what she said the first time and makes a note in your kid's file, "Mom is deaf."
You go through the bank drive through and ask for your balance. The teller speaks through that tunnel that I think is connected to Australia and says, "Two thhunonefour." You scream back, "EXCUSE ME???" She patiently screams back at you and then everyone in the drive through line knows that you are overdrawn and have been for about two weeks.
You constantly tell friends, relatives (and sometimes strangers) that your cell phone is "breaking up," simply because you cannot hear a $%*# word they are saying.

3. Around 40 it takes eight hours of exercise to equal one taco, donut, candy bar, or anything else you might desperately want to eat, but that is not on your Healthy Eating Diet. Frankly, it's exhausting. There is one up side to this. Some days you will honestly be so tired and sore from working out that you will not be able to find the energy to lift a fork to your mouth. You will be limited to only food (or liquid) that can be somehow taken directly into your mouth (like water - or beer - through a straw). If this "no-hands diet" lasts more than one day you might lose weight.

4. Menopause kicks in if you are a woman. If you are a man reading my blog: sorry, but if you know any women approaching 40 you might want to read #4 just by way of self preservation. Now, let me just say menopause is a strange creature. The more I know it, the more I want to say, "Remember when you were a teenager and your emotions could flip on a dime, you sometimes had this raging appetite (no funny business here) where you wanted to eat like a live horse, you sometimes slept until your mom woke you up and told you a week had passed, and you sometimes felt like the most minor of all occurrences could literally RUIN YOUR LIFE???????" Well, that's menopause in a nutshell. Add some extreme bloating, night sweats, migraines, and bad cramping and you've got it. Does it sound like a church picnic on a beautiful sunny day? No, I don't think so either.

5. Your memory will fail you. Now, I've never had a mind for details so my mind fails me in much broader ways. For example (and take note - this is just an example it hasn't actually happened): I would never forget my fourth born's date of birth because I never was able to remember that in the first place. But, I might forget the fourth born. It's shocking and embarrassing at first, but if you carry your phone (and your bifocals) around with you most of the time you can always try to remember to slip away and google what you need to know.

I have tried to hit the most important aspects of aging with this short list. There are many more, but you will just have to muddle through those on your own. After all you didn't get this far simply by reading my blog! Now, lest I end this post all gloom and doom - take heart! Remember you will be much wiser and able to laugh at the foolishness of young people. Just know you will doing it with your glasses on, they will have to be loudly foolish and you will have to remember who the hell they are and why you give a flip. At any rate - Happy Monday, my friends! Enjoy your day, and remember this is your LAST DAY being exactly as old as you are!

"These socks may or may not be clean."

2011-09-15T08:40:00.000-07:00

Thank you for the honesty. Now, you might think that statement came from the nine year old Boy. But, no. It came from the two year old baby. And it made me want to share with you a Top Ten List I have been composing for a while.

The Top Ten Ways You Know That Kid is a Fourth Child:

10. She is TWO and had to be rushed to the ER after doing flips on a drainage ditch railing after seeing older siblings do it. *Her parents may or may not have been watching her diligently.*
9. She is TWO and can often be heard chanting, "I don't care, I don't care. I'll pull down your underwear." *Sometimes to her mother.* and *Sometimes in public.*
8. She knows where the Give to Goodwill clothes bag is kept and frequently comes downstairs wearing 12 month size clothes when she is going to turn three soon.
7. She often can be seen digging in her nose. When questioned about it she says with complete certainty, "Bubba said there are treasures in there."
6. She insists on practicing piano and doing her homework every night and if a comment is made about her not even playing piano or not even having homework she promptly throws a fit that makes even calm people want to hit their heads with heavy books till they pass out.
5. She can often be seen and/or heard having long and detailed conversations with other children through the crack under the closed (and barricaded) door.
4. She is two, yet she is often persuaded to do tasks which other birth order children would not do. Such as: asking mom if she and others can watch Sponge Bob, going back upstairs for the millionth time to retrieve a DSI that doesn't belong to her, reaching into the toilet to get our a matchbox car (that, again, does not belong to her), testing milk to see if it has gone bad, etc. ad nauseum.
3. She does not speak in a normal voice. She yells everything due to the fact that no one ever lets her talk. She often and proudly tells her mom, "Daddy says I learned to whisper in a helicopter."
2. Because no one ever lets her speak she is developing a stutter and is told by her older siblings (as they shake their heads and sigh deeply), "Sounds like you are going to need Speech."

And the number one reason you know that kid is a fourth child:

1. Her mother has no idea WHERE she puts her dirty socks so when she comes downstairs holding a pair of socks the mother always asks, "Are these clean?' (after a quick sniff test which would indicate probably not) that TWO YEAR OLD child responds cheerfully, confidently, and very loudly, "These socks may or may not be clean."

How Feeding a Family Prevents Me From Feeding My Family

2011-09-12T10:03:00.000-07:00

Preface: #1: Baby was in the ER Friday night. My intention was to blog it today, but instead I am saving that for my book - chapter to be titled Make Sure Your Kids' Panties Are Right Side Out Before Said Kid Ends Up in the ER. #2: I don't think I am fully recovered from baby going to the ER and my hands are already shaking from coffee intake in an attempt to fully recover. SO, you are stuck with the following blog post on cooking (collective - blech). When my book comes out you can thank me for the ER tips. And lest you think I am a heartless mother who has no regard for her baby who was in the ER and only thinks of herself (who me?). Baby is fine. I think she recovered miraculously when she heard the words "popsicle and stickers if you can do this," and she was actually spotted high-fiving all the ER staff on her way out.

Today's Post

One of my resolutions for 2011 was to cook more things from scratch and not feed my family so much processed food. I am a professed Non-Cook, so for me this was HUGE. When I wrote the resolution I did not fully realize just how much actual work, time in the kitchen, and countless hours of research this would entail.

When it comes to cooking I have a few people I look to for inspiration who are clearly way above my skill level. My good friend over at cyberbones is a crazy good cook. She makes things like MARSHMALLOWS, and lots of ethnic foods that I have never heard of but am dying to taste. She blogs about it later and I dream about doing the same. Cyberbones effortlessly cooks circles around me.

I also occasionally find myself related to outstanding cooks. My beautiful niece over at http://skinny-fatkids.blogspot.com/ is just one. Not only is she drop-dead gorgeous she manages to cook all this amazing food that is actually HEALTHY. Oh, and did I mention - she's in law school. Yeah, I know. She blogs about her food AND photographs it WHILE cooking it. Check these two blogs and you will say, "Standards too high."

And, lastly I will just mention my hubby who is The Cook In The Family. He is a born fabulous cook. Thank God or we would starve. He has tried to teach me to: Taste my food while cooking. Test recipes on our family, not strangers. Memorize recipes that I make frequently. Not even use a recipe - to just experiment with food I like. Etc., etc...............I could be unteachable.

So that brings me to yesterday. I had decided to try my hand at calzones in 805 easy steps. I whittled the steps down and in preparation for yesterday this is what I had done.

1. I researched calzones back to Italy itself by way of allrecipes.com, the Food Network, and epicurious.com. Finding a recipe for actual made from scratch calzones is a little difficult since most of the recipes called for "Refrigerated Pizza Dough." I finally settled on homemade pizza dough and a seemingly yummy recipe for a veggie filled calzone.
2. Using the recipes, I made a grocery list of what I needed to buy to make Spinach and Cheese Calzones. Thank you Bobby Flay and Rachel Ray. When I went to print the recipes, the printer was out of ink. This resulted in a quick fit from hubby (because the printer has been flashing "almost out of ink - GO BUY INK" for about six months now and I have yet to go to the ink store - across town and with two toddlers - to buy ink), quick fit from the boy-child (who was trying to print his invoices which were overdue - and yes our 9 year old has a paying job - don't judge), quick fit from Girl 2 because I couldn't print out her spelling words, AND (most important to this post) I had to hurriedly WRITE the recipes while three people were throwing fits. Later this will be critically important.
3. I thought I had a basic knowledge of how yeast actually works.

So, I set out to make the calzones at 1:30 p.m. in plenty of time for a 5:00 p.m. dinner.

"What could this possibly go wrong? Didn't you have a recipe?" you ask?

*Tired pause,* coming from months of experience answering this question when hubby asks it after I angrily shout at him, "SOMETHING HAS GONE WRONG. WE ARE EATING OUT."

Here's a run-down of what went wrong.

1. Something went wrong with the yeast. I don't exactly know what. I ended up with not "double the amount," but more like (and this is exactly what the boy-child said) "possibly one quarter more than the original amount."
2. Because I was forced to hand write everything since we had no ink - I ended up totally leaving out several critical ingredients to the recipe. One of them being the main ingredient - ricotta cheese.
3. I made a split second change in the recipe (which never turns out good when I do it) in order to accommodate having no ricotta cheese.
4. When I opened one of the pizza sauce jars that was in the refrigerator (leading me to believe we had two half-used jars that would presumably equal one full jar) it was moldy.
5. I thought I had more frozen spinach in the deep freeze. When I actually went out to the deep freeze - we didn't.

At 5:45 dinner was served. We had one HUGE calzone (about the size of half a pizza). In it was: sauteed artichoke, garlic, red, orange and yellow bell peppers, mozzarella cheese and a quarter bottle of pizza sauce. We also had three smaller calzones with the rest of the pizza sauce, a teeny amount of seasoned spinach, and mozzarella cheese. AMAZINGLY it tasted pretty good. It was not at all what I had set out to make which is frustrating and upsetting to me, and I am sure Bobby Flay and Rachel Ray would have been positively mortified. BUT, the Cook who was there (hubby) said it was, "progress."

This almost year of trying to cook from scratch has led me to this conclusion: The cooking show I want to see on the Food Network is Cooking Healthy Meals From Scratch With Four Kids in the Kitchen, One Needy Husband, and Lots of Other Important Business to Attend To.

Post Script - On To-Do List for today: Make peach cobbler. Bad news: The peaches were never taken out of the plastic bag from the grocers and properly put away because baby threw a Holy Hell Fit upon returning from said grocers. Peaches are now moldy.......................................................

Banana cobbler? Anyone?

P.S. - Santa might ruin your life.

2011-09-08T09:14:00.000-07:00

So, let me just say:

1. It was brought to my attention yesterday that I have a pastor for a reader (Thank you, pastor for reading my blog. I am honored and was just wondering - while you are reading my blog - could you put in a good word for me with The Big Man?).
2. After my post yesterday I felt compelled to tell you that I love my children dearly (and not just because they give me 99.9% of my blog material.)
3. There are so many post scripts to yesterday's post about big boobs and being NOT Jewish that I may have a new chapter for my book. Aren't you glad you stumbled over to your laptop and pulled up my blog? Because you are going to get it first (I know, I am too generous.)

P.S. Santa Might Ruin Your Life

The conversation that follows occurred after a deep conversation about the reality of Santa. Now, I am one of those joy-sucking parents who wish that my kids would just stop believing in Santa and get it the hell over with. (I am sure you are surprised.) Keeping up the Santa rouse for me is frankly exhausting. My nine year old Boy still firmly believes in Santa, his eight flying reindeer, and I think, the Abominable snowman. Girl 1 stopped fully believing in Santa a long time ago. There are just too many unresolved issues for her (and I quote):

Mom, reindeer can't fly.
We don't have a chimney and we always keep our doors locked. Are you telling me Santa has a key to every one's house? Is he like a burglar that gives?
Where does he shop?
Are elves dwarfs? Real live dwarfs? Are they the Oompa Loompas??? I just don't believe that. Where did they come from?

So, back to the conversation that ensued:

Girl 1 - Momma, I just had a horrifying thought.

Me (seriously afraid to ask) - Oh. What baby?

Girl 1 - What if you get married, have kids, and you and your husband or wife really still believe in Santa. So, since you believe in Santa you don't buy any of your kids any presents because you are sure Santa will take care of them. And your kids believe in Santa. But, then THERE IS NO SANTA. So, on Christmas morning your kids wake up and they don't have any presents??????

Now, this was one of those times that I had so many things I wanted to say that I was rendered speechless. Here are some of the things that were going through my head: There are kids that don't ever get any Christmas presents and you know what - that's horrifying. Santa is NOT real. It's all momma and daddy, so that's also horrifying. If two people have kids and those two people STILL BELIEVE IN SANTA - that is not only horrifying, but we got more problems than those kids not getting any presents. No worries. I didn't say any of that. Instead I said:

Wow. Then those parents would be in a tight spot, huh? Now let's turn off the light and go to bed!

Girl 1 - So, mom - IS SANTA REAL OR IS IT JUST YOU AND DAD???

Me - Well, baby I will say what I say every time you ask me: Do you believe in Santa?

Now, this answer is entirely unsatisfying for me. I just hate it, but frankly I can't think of a better one and I am too tired to think anymore about it.

Girl 1 - So, is Jesus real? C'mon just tell us.

Say what? How did Jesus get dragged into this? I'm sorry, dude! Now, what ensued is just too detailed and sketchy (due to my lack of actual knowledge) to relate here. So, I will summarize what I said. (What I think I said - again, my lack of actual knowledge sometimes confuses the details.):

Jesus lived. Then he died. Then we and certain other people (called Christians) believe he rose from the dead and was the son of God.
Santa lives in your heart if you believe in him.
He also maintains a residence at the North Pole. I think.
Jerusalem is a real place.
Jesus doesn't live in Jerusalem anymore. Remember he died and then rose and now he lives in your heart?
Jesus gets along with Santa and there is room in your heart for both of them.
I don't actually know any reindeer that can fly.
We kind of have Jesus' playbook. It's called the bible. I don't know of any playbook for Santa.
Santa did not write the bible. Neither did Jesus.
Not all stories in the bible are real nor should we take them all as real events that actually happened.
I am not sure what Jewish people think of Santa.
I am pretty sure Jews like Hanukkah.
I am pretty sure Jonah and the Whale is not one of the more true stories in the bible.

That's all I got, friends. I pray we have closed the book on Santa and boobs for a while. And, I am going to try and keep Jesus safe. Peace.

Life's Disappointments #17 - We are not Jewish.

2011-09-07T08:33:00.000-07:00

So, if you are new let me catch you up:

1. I hate talking about sex. It makes me physically ill and most days I would rather make a chicken pot pie from scratch.
2. I do not like anything to do with the female genitalia or describing it, looking at it, learning about it, etc., etc. When asked during my first labor if I wanted a mirror I think I said, "HELL TO THE NO." The less I know about the inner workings - the better.
3. I am really not one for small talk (or some days - any talk at all). Nor do I particularly want to debate abortion, gay sex, or welfare with anyone any day of the week.
4. I tend to be a deep thinker - but I really don't have time for anyone else's deep thinking (basically - it's all about me).

So, naturally God in His wisdom and goodness would bless me with Girl 1 (age EIGHT) who:

1. I found at age 2 examining her privates with a mirror.
2. Asks me questions such as: What's gay marriage? And, do you think it's right or wrong?
3. Announced one day before bedtime: I really would like to have a baby someday, but are there any other options besides pushing it out of my body? I'm terrified of pooping on the delivery table.
4. Has, since the age of when she learned to talk and think, become schooled on a series of informational tidbits which have gone on to shape her thinking. I like to call these informational tidbits "Life's Disappointments."

To give you an example of Life's Disappointments (1-17) they include:

1. You can't marry your brother (in most states).
2. Baby's come out of your body - not from the stork.
3. Girls will - have periods, shave their legs, and give birth to babies. Boys will - not.
4. Eyebrow hair does not generally fall out. It may at some point (when sight is no longer possible) need to be waxed and that will hurt.

That brings us to Life Disappointments #16 and #17 which happened the day before yesterday and yesterday respectively. As usual, they caught me completely off guard and frankly unable to appropriately address them.

Life Disappointment #16: Boobs Eventually Stop Growing

I know. Huge shock, right? Well, it's true. And I had to break it to Girl 1 night before last when she told me she wanted to gain some weight. She weighs I think over 20 pounds, is frightfully thin, and eats like a horse. So, I was a little interested the other night when she skipped over to me and said (in her happy voice), "I'm thinking about gaining some weight, momma."

Me: Oh, you are? Why?

Girl 1: 'Cuz I want big boobs.

Now, this caused me some pause and I had to consider how I might answer without damaging her self esteem (turns out my self esteem was in question), not cause her an eating disorder in later life, and provide her with accurate information. Naturally I said:

Well, that's nuts.

Girl 1: It is? Why?

Me: Because - just because you gain weight does not necessarily mean your boobs will get huge.
(Thinking) - sheesh if that were the case momma would be eating chocolate full force.

Girl 1 (looking suddenly crushed and clearly engaged in deep thinking): Well, then how do I get big boobs?

Now, there are many times that as a mother I: mutter things under my breath, seriously veer off-topic and confuse the $hit out of my kids, and bite my tongue in order to avoid saying something inappropriate. This was one of those times.

Me: That's a good question, baby. I guess you are just born with a Big Boob Gene.
(Thinking) - that CLEARLY you will not have.

Girl 1: (looking positively forlorn) Oh. *huge pause* Hmm. Well, momma - when are you gonna get big boobs?

Ah-hem...........

Life Disappointments #17 - We are not Jewish.

After I spent most of the day yesterday mentally recovering from the hard realization that Girl 1 now knows Mom does not have big boobs, the Christmas edition of the American Girl catalog arrived in all its glory. I was positively joyful. The frenzy of making Christmas lists commenced immediately upon the girls opening the catalog - the questions about boob size forgotten entirely.

I noticed after both girls had diligently tabbed pages and circled items that the Hanukkah Gift Set $20 was circled. So, naturally I said, "Baby, did you know you circled the Hanukkah set?"

Girl 1 (practically gushing) - Yes, momma. That's for me!

Me - Ah. Well, did you know it's a Hanukkah Set?

Girl 1 (again, gushing) - Yes! Did you know I LOVE Hanukkah?

Me - Um, no. Hmm. Did you know we're not Jewish?

Girl 1 - (slightly disappointed voice) - Yes. I know. But, I really love Jews. (Me thinking - Well that's a relief. No neo-Nazis here.) I just love the celebration of Hanukkah and I'd like to learn more about Jewish traditions. Can we do that, mom?

Me (desperately trying to think of another Jewish tradition) - Yeah, um. Sure. I think that's great. But, the Hanukkah Gift Set is $20. And, again, just by way of budgeting for Christmas - we are not Jewish.

Girl 1 - Well, I thought about asking Santa for it, but isn't Christmas a Christian holiday? So, I'm not sure how Santa would feel about that. Does Santa give presents for Hanukkah? Is there another Jewish holiday that I could ask Santa for a present for? Oh, momma. I wish we were Jewish so bad.

So, ends #17 the rationale part anyway. What can I say? Sometimes I wish I was Jewish, too. Say a prayer (or whatever) for me that I can handle #18 'cuz it's getting pretty deep in here.

Employer - SWOT mom

2011-09-06T08:42:00.000-07:00

I am not sure who coined the term "SAHM," but I would like to know if that person has kids. Because I have four (not that anyone would ever ask me about anything in regards to parenting - Octomom seems to be more popular). I am just wondering what made Stay At Home mom a seemingly acceptable title to describe us collectively. And, while I'm at it, what made an acronym even better (I hate acronyms and rarely think they make anything better - ROTFLMAO being my prime example because it reminds me of barfing rather than laughing)?

So, I've not worked in a formally titled location full-time for about eight years, and I find myself paralyzed when faced with the my four kids' hundreds of school forms that ask for Employer. I have been known to jot down something vague (home organizer???), illegible, or "N/A". I am sure that whoever reads these countless forms has a good snort at my expense.

This year was no exception. I found myself unable to actually put my employment status on the line. This brings me to why I am writing this post today: Sometime during 2010 I became familiar with the acronym 'SAHM'. And, it might be fair to say I hate it.

I didn't know what SAHM stood for for a long time. Since I would rather admit to a regular case of dandruff than not knowing what is going on, it did not occur to me to ask someone what it meant.

Illustrating a Point by Way of Actual Conversation:

Girl Child - Mom, what's that white stuff in your hair?
Me - Dandruff.
Girl Child (later that same day) - Mom, did you know that these pants I am wearing are called Jeggings? And, that jeggings is jean leggings???
Me - Um, yeah. Who doesn't know that/???

Soooooo, when I started seeing SAHM on various Twitter bios, blog profiles, parenting articles (not that I actually read those), etc., rather than try to find out what it meant I just pretended I knew and carried on. I had a fun time making up stuff that SAHM could stand for (usually I am far too busy to have time for such nonsense). I am not sure where this term originated (possibly another planet), but since I live in a city that is regularly abbreviated S.A., I invented many meanings for SAHM. My personal favorite: San Antonio Home for the Mentally Incapacitated (forget that the "I" is missing from the acronym).

Now, I hate to tell you, but when I found out the true meaning of SAHM I was disappointed and bewildered.

My disappointment sprung from not being able to mess around with funny names anymore (not that I regularly have time for such foolishness). My bewilderment, (which later developed into....hatred), was a little harder to pinpoint.

Well, I am writing this post today having hit the nail on the head. I find myself hating SAHM because it is so woefully inaccurate. Stay At Home Mom? Seriously? To define a woman who quit a Work Outside the Home (also, woefully inaccurate) job to raise children, maintain a household, and cater to a needy husband (Oh, wait - is that only me? Did I ask that out loud?) as a Stay At Home Mom just begs the question: Are we really all STAYING AT HOME???

If I was to name everything I do during the day - rare is the day that Stay At Home would even make the list. Which brings me to yesterday when I thought of SAHMs and how we really need to rename ourselves.

5:30 a.m. - My alarm rang waking me from a dream in which I was a famous writer and had thousands of Facebook fans and Twitter followers.
5:30 - 7:00 - I cooked breakfast, made lunches, and frantically scurried to get three over-sleeping, whiny small people on the bus.
7:00 - 8:00 - I contemplated working out and opted to surf the net instead.
8:00 - 9:30 - I went to the bank, the farmer's market, and HEB (not an acronym, but the actual owner's initials). By the way, this required me to Go Out Of My Home.
9:30-10:00 - I put all the groceries away, packed two more lunches, and hit the road again.
10:00 - 11:00 - I drove around town making deliveries for the business I do from home (but which requires me to leave home frequently).
11:00 - 11:15 - I went back home to pick up the two-year old's water bottle, cell phone, and purse in an attempt to squelch the screaming and whining emitting from the back seat.
11:20-12:15 - I ate lunch with my son. At school (which, in case you hadn't figured is...NOT HOME).
12:15 - I arrived back home. Read Goldilocks and put the two year old down for a nap.
2:15 - I woke up said two year old and prepared to Go Out of My Home again to pick up the short people.
3:00 - I was back home to peruse homework, sign papers (hopefully not asking for my Employer), do a quick clean-up, and cook dinner.
6:00 - 9:00 - I was out of my home again! I watched some titillating scootering, played some two-square, drank some beer, and hung out with the neighbors.
9:00 - 10:00 - I put kids to bed, talked with my husband, and finally got back in my bed to dream of becoming famous.

Does that speak Stay At Home to you? I know if you are not part of the solution you are part of the problem, so here are some alternate titles I have coined (based on my own actual experience with four kids) for your review and consideration. If you, dear reader, are a SAHM and you like one - use it! Consider it my gift to you (thank me later).

Drive All Over The Freakin' Town (DAOFT) Mom
Cook Six Hours A Day (CSHaD) Mom
Listen Excessively To Whining and Fussing (LETWF) Mom
Not Working in a Formally Titled Location, but Rather Working At Home and About (NWFTLRWaHA) Mom

and, last but not least (what I'm using) -
Still Working On That (SWOT) mom

Changing the world one acronym at a time. :o)

Open Letter to Joe Corbi

2011-08-31T08:21:00.000-07:00

Dear Joe Corbi (assuming you are a real person),

I am the harried mother of four (three of them are actual public school fund raising kids), and I would just like to tell you: 1. I hate fund raising. 2. I would like you to publish the winners of the flat screen TVs (seriously, who doesn't already have a flat screen TV - our family excluded) and mini-fridges. And, 3. I was also wondering if you could lower your expectations a little for next year.

I'll try to explain my situation to you by way of some history and a time-line and I hope you will understand.

At the end of last school year the kids' school PTA decided it would be more financially advantageous to "get out the pleading early" before all the other schools do. So, we got our fund raising packets last Friday. Now, I will preface this letter by saying: I get it. I understand the reasoning behind fund raising. I support our schools. And, I truly do appreciate the PTA. That being said, fund raising and the prizes for fund raising make me want to try on teeny tiny bathing suits when I am bloated, and with four kids, lots of mirrors, and bad lighting. And, frankly, sir - I'd like you to go with us (don't worry - you don't actually have to enter the dressing room with me - although if we don't get our flat screen TV or at least our mini-fridge I might ask you to.)

Here's my timeline to give you an insight into what a mother of four (three of them actually in public school) goes through with fund raising every year (two times a year if we're lucky!). Just in case you never had friends or kids (just sayin' - it kinda seems like you've never actually had either).

Friday - The kids get in the car truly giddy and talking in high pitched voices upon receiving their fund raising packets (I am assuming right before lining up to be released so as "not to forget to tell mom the Good News" - and yes, our kids do look like Jehovah Witnesses walking around our neighborhood soliciting). Here is just a sampling of what they were screeching,

Girl - MOM, DID YOU KNOW YOU COULD WIN A FLAT SCREEN TV??????? WE CAN FINALLY GET A FLAT SCREEN TV???????????? FOR SELLING!!!!!!!!!!! GOSH WE'RE LUCKY!!!!!!!!

Boy - MOM, ANOTHER CHOICE IS A MINI-FRIDGE. IT'S JUST WHAT I'VE ALWAYS WANTED. MOM, DID YOU KNOW I ALWAYS WANTED A TINY FRIDGE? AFTER I GET ONE, CAN YOU LET ME EAT UPSTAIRS?

Girl 2 - MOM, DID YOU KNOW THEY ARE SELLING LOTS OF STUFF, BUT GUMMY WORMS, TOO???? DID YOU KNOW I LIKE, NO LOVE, GUMMY WORMS????"

Later Friday - After we got home and they dumped all the trip-licate sheets of order forms, multiple catalogs, Parent Instructions, Helpful Hints for Selling, and Deadlines You Don't Want to Forget (thank you, Joe, for being so thorough) TIMES THREE on my kitchen table, here is a sampling of what they were saying in mostly normal voices, "Okay, we need to just sell 200 + items....Wait, mom is that two hundred or two thousand? ...to get the flat screen TV. Hmm. Well, maybe I just want the iTouch." "Mom, Kaitlyn's mom said she was going to take her packet to work with her and sell all of Kaitlyn's stuff. Can you do that? Wait. Mom, do you work?" "Mom, it says here the gummy worms cost $140.00. Or is that $14.00? Either way it seems like a deal to me." "Can we play video games now that we were good our first week back to school?"

Sometime Saturday - My oldest spent a little more time researching the prizes being offered by your company. He figured out (or read) that he needed to sell 75 items to get the coveted mini-fridge. He then told his sister she needed to sell 200 items to get a flat screen TV. This is a sampling of their pitiful conversation (spoken in hushed voices).

Boy - S., I don't think you'll be able to get a TV because I am not sure mom and dad even know 200 people.

Girl - Well, I'm gonna try.

Boy - Yeah, I'm still gonna try for my fridge. Let's divide up the people we know that we usually sell to. (They proceeded to divide up our ill-fated neighbors and left no neighbors for Girl 2. This caused a huge fight later. I will spare you the details.) We better start selling now.

In a flurry of activity (kind of resembling Christmas) catalogs were delivered Saturday to a spattering of neighbors (I am sure our neighbors love us even more than they did before and let me tell you - with four kids frequently loud, naked, and throwing balls, bullets, candy wrappers, etc. in other people's yards - we are loved in this neighborhood). Meanwhile, I started to review the information and figure out what my kids actually had a chance (in Hell) to "earn."

Saturday evening - I told all the kids how fabulous it would be to earn a 13" Loop Pencil. Here's what I sounded like (in a loud, excited voice), "Hey guys! Don't you want a 13" LOOP PENCIL? How cool is THAT? You need to sell 1-3 items. I think we can do that! That's THREE ITEMS TOTAL. I am SURE we can do that. Let's all count on a LOOP PENCIL. Shall we?"

Sunday - Joe, I am not sure where you live. But, we live in South Texas. We are having Extreme Weather and a Stage Three Drought right now. In case you are not familiar with heat: Basically, we could cook all the food you are selling on our driveway and your undies stick and slick right to your body each time you step out on your front porch. IT'S HOT. So, Sunday afternoon when all my kids decided to go hard core, retrieve their catalogs, place some orders, and get to the business of winning the flat screen TV, I really wish you could have been here. But, you weren't. So I had to sit outside and monitor their selling. It was positively joyful. They came home sweaty, thirsty and walking slowly, but with orders. Three each!

Monday evening - They had a group meeting to reassess what they might be able to win. Again, sample conversation (in somewhat defeated voices).

Boy - Well, it looks like I can't get my fridge. I am totally asking for one for Christmas. But, I am still trying for the Cell Phone Scan Radio with Light.

Girl - Yeah. I am not too sure now about the flat screen. What IS the Cell Phone thing?

Boy - I am not sure. I will ask mom.

Girl 2 - I am still asking mom to order the gummy worms. That's really all I want. And, I guess I'll take the Cell Phone thing if it has apps.

Yesterday - All of them collectively asked me, "Mom, what's a Cell Phone Scan Radio with Light?"

So, Joe, here I will digress a little and ask you, "What the %$*& is a Cell Phone Scan Radio with Light???"

Last night we were sitting outside melting slowly and monitoring orders and soliciting. Gradually my three children came back. Hot and sweaty. Here is how it went.

Boy - Mom, do you know anymore people? Do you have anymore friends?

Girl - Are we gonna get the flat screen, mom? Seriously? I was thinking we could put all our orders together? But, if we're not gonna get it, just tell us now.

Girl 2 - Mom, are you gonna ever write down the gummy worm order?

Boy - Are we gonna get to go to the Cookie Party? Do we really even want to? 'Cuz it's hot and I'm sick of selling. Also, can you really win money in that box you go in and all the money whirls around? I'm beginning to think this stuff is just kind of a scam. I am kind of all for straight donations to the school now.

Me - We are not going to get the flat screen. I do not have anymore friends. I am not ordering the gummy worms. My underwear is stuck to my rear and we need to go inside. I am writing Joe Corbi a letter tomorrow and I suggest you ask Kaitlyn to let you know how the Cookie Party goes. Time for bath!

So, Joe that's all I got. I hope you understand how I feel right now and why I was compelled to write to you. You seem like a great guy and God knows I love your cinnamon rolls, but seriously 200 items??? Next year can you remember a few things before making your glossy? We (or as I like to think of us - Average Joe American Family) are not popular (we are too busy having our kids fund raise to make more friends to buy our fund raising ~~crap~~ stuff), we will probably live in the desert by then, and still probably won't have a flat screen. So, for US, to make it more fun for US, can you put some cool prizes in there? And please, please, please publish your winners. I want my kids to know that there really are winners. There really are people with 200+ friends. This isn't just a scam.

Thanks, Joe! I appreciate it. And, while you're at it, a box with whirling money for parents just because would be great, too. :o)

Feeling the love,

Mother of Four (three of them being actual students)

I'll Take Parenting for $10,000 or The Honeymoon is OVER

2011-08-30T07:31:00.000-07:00

How long, after the school year starts, does it take a third grader to completely meltdown over homework? THAT is the question that will someday win me a million dollars. Or at least that's how I like to think of the time I am doing right now in parenting boot camp. Someday it's gonna payoff. Big!

For those of you not counting, yesterday was the sixth day of school and that's when it all started to unravel. And the cause? Place Value or as I like to say "The Value of Zero". Huh? (I know!) I won't bore you with details. Here's the Meltdown Recap. Read it and weep. Or, if you are a smarty pants, read it and snicker.

Third Grader: silently sobbing at homework table (which, in our house, looks remarkably like the kitchen table)
Me: ignoring her
Third Grader: sobbing more loudly
Me: ignoring her
Third Grader: excessively loud huffy breath and then a full-blown sob/scream
Me: ignoring her
All other children (including the two year old): MOM! ARE YOU LISTENING! S. is SCREAMING and we can't do our homework. MAKE HER BE QUIET!

Did I ever tell you how my home is like a bastion of compassion? It is.

Me: in my frighteningly calm voice: S. are you okay? What's wrong?
Third Grader: in her equally frightening quiet voice: Hm. hm. hm umph. hm. hm.
Me: What?
Third Grader: Hm. hm. umph. hm. hm. hm.
Me: WHAT?
Third Grader: My homework is too hard.
Me: going to homework table and looking at her homework - which is place value. Hard place value. Hmm. Well, when something is hard for us, does crying and throwing a fit help? (Thinking - Yes. Yes, it does.)
Third Grader: No.
Me: Well, what might help? (Thinking - chocolate - preferably dark. And a beer. Preferably light.)
Third Grader: Looking at the example?
Me (after glancing at the first question: In the number 2,467,985,470,887,476 the underlined number has what value?): Yes! I think that will help. (Thinking - Gosh, I hope so.)

So, that's pretty much it. We muddled through place value (With me frequently consulting the examples and my third grader assuring me that her teacher would tell her if I had done it wrong on Tuesday. Thank you, teacher!). My third grader was pretty sure there was a difference between "0" and "0,000,000." I argued that I was pretty sure zero meant zero. We ended in a stalemate. Teacher will decide today who is right.

Aside from the fact that I started dinner wondering if I am smarter than a THIRD GRADER, I am pretty sure it ended well. I thought the value of zero was zero, but I could be wrong. Nothin' like some third grade teacher who is half my age to make me call into question everything I have ever known about place value. At least I still have a game show future. If you are a Math Person (guess who's not), feel free to weigh in - and by that I do not mean chastising me for being Not Smarter Than A Third Grader.

Hope you are surviving The Beginning of School, and if not - take heart, eat some dark chocolate, and drink a light beer. You'll be better for it.

Yours truly,

I Miss Summer

Undying Love and Amazon Cloud or Nothing As Sweet As the First Time

2011-08-27T17:10:00.000-07:00

Now you may be thinking you are about to read a post about hot steamy ah-hem, but 1. Get your mind outta the gutter, and 2. You should know by now that I am freakishly prudish and would never write about that. No, today's post is going to be about how I found love in technology after 20+ years with my polar opposite and how you can, too. I know, not nearly as exciting, but you're stuck with it.

Let me just give you some of my quick marriage history in case you are "new". I have known my husband since ninth grade. I have known that we are as opposite as Bono and Barry Manilow for about that long, too. So, naturally when hubby wants me to try things, do things, listen to music he likes, and generally do what he likes to do it is perfectly natural that.......I would rather poke my eyes out with sharp sticks. That being said, we have been married longer than Abraham, so we have found a way to work that. That brings us to about a year ago when he started asking me if I thought I might like to listen to music while I am running. And my immediate response was, "Why.........no." He said, "Well, just think about it." And then later (after I'd had about 5 minutes to think about it) I said, "I think I'd rather run with heavy weights on my ankles."

Remember I said opposite? This guy listens to music from the time he wakes up until the time he goes to sleep (notice I did not say bed because he goes to bed with ear buds). I really don't care to listen to music most of the time (unless I am, say, ON THE DANCE FLOOR). It's not that I don't like music. I do. I have favorite bands, I try to stay current so as not to embarrass my children, and I can even (on occasion) tell you who sings a song (as long as the singer is prolific like Madonna or Prince or Ozzy not someone obscure or someone who can be easily confused with someone else like Madonna, Prince, or Ozzy), but other than that you can usually find me doing something else.

Hubby is also a repository of Music Trivia. And when I say, "He's good." I mean, "He's good like Google or Ask.com." A million years ago when we were dating he made me mix tapes all the time which I listened to. Nowadays I just use him for his infinite knowledge. I have been known to ask him at odd times (shouted from the bathroom, texted from my phone while I am grocery shopping, right before I fall asleep, right when I wake up), "Hey, babe, who sings that song blah, blah, blah." Now, remember I am no music connoisseur so often times my questions go specifically something like, "Hey, babe, who sings that song that says something about a girlfriend and a month of the year, but I can't remember which one, I think it was in winter, and it's kind of like a disco dance remix and his voice kind of sounds like he's talking like a robot?"

And I KID YOU NOT (you would actually have to witness this - and some have - to believe it) hubby will cock his head slightly to the left, question me a little (Oh could you mistake it for say the B52's? And does it also say something about sentimental? To which I will say "Um, yeah, right.'), and then you can almost hear this clicking sound in his brain and then he'll say, "Yeah, I think that's blah, blah, blah. I think I have that right here." At which point he will grab his iTouch, iPad, phone, whatever and click some more and I am HEARING THE SONG. It's like uncanny and the most magic I usually see in a week.

Incidentally this is number #547 of why I am still married to him. (I make this list in my head - so it's #1 to you.)

So, as you may have guessed a few weeks after he asked me if I wanted to listen to music while running, he bought me an armband thingie and made me a 2011 "mix tape" called a "Playlist." That was about six months ago and today (since I am half-assedly training for a third-marathon) I decided to give that thing a whirl. I found some ear buds, strapped on that armband thingie and set off to run.

Keep in mind I've been a runner for longer than I've known hubby and today was the first day I have ever run with music. Until today I truly thought I would prefer to run and just think (we all know how much I love to do that). I also have been known to use this time to pray (before you snicker, just know I might be saying a rosary for you and if you are one of my faithful readers you probably need a rosary said for you). Well, let's just say you might need to get your own connection with The Almighty now because I might be addicted to running with music.

Because I love you and I want to share the deep and personal experience I had this morning of being in love and knowing that I married right, I am going to allow you an intimate view of my personal life. No, it's not a video camera in the bedroom - it is a look at My RunRun Playlist incredibly NOT made by me, but made by hubby (that's where the love and marriage counseling come in)! Consider it an early Christmas gift from me to you and you can thank me later.

I am linking these up so that if you already know the song you can jam out to it, and if you don't know the song you can consider broadening your horizons just a wee bit.

Here goes, run along with me:

1. Gold Digger Kayne West Ft. Jamie Foxx. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6vwNcNOTVzY&ob=av2e. Now before you start preaching to me about Kayne West, let me just tell you I LOVE THIS SONG. Hubby knows my overall feelings about Kayne, but he also knows that I love this song. I would NEVER have met this song if it weren't for him. Thank you hubby. We are off to a great start.
2. Gold Watch Lupe Fiasco. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6RUYAZRUZtA. So, here's the thing about my husband. He knows me THROUGH and THROUGH. He knows that I love Lupe Fiasco (could be because I say it a lot), but here's the thing: My FAVORITE song is The Show Goes On. Hubby knows this which is why he didn't put that song on there (or at least that is what I am telling myself as I am well into my second hill). He put a different song on there that is equally grand if not better so that I can broaden my horizons. I LIKE your thinking, babe.
3. Heaven Los Lonely Boys. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wvkzoqQ5Oak&ob=av2e Now this song just takes me back. It's a little slow for running, but I can see hubby thinking of me while he downloaded this song onto my playlist.
4. Hi-Definition (feat. Snoop Dogg and Pooh E). http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9HFYa-vEl3Y. Oh, man. Just click the song. Lupe and Snoop??? Heaven.
5. Paradise City Guns N' Roses http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rbm6GXllBiw&ob=av2e As soon as this started playing I actually may have forgotten that I was running. Now, this just proves that hubby is an oldie but a goodie. AND I will let you in on a teensy secret that few have been lucky enough to witness: Hubby does a MEAN Axle dance impersonation. Picturing this actually made me sprint.
6. Red Red Wine UB40. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zXt56MB-3vc&ob=av2e. So, this could be hubby's only Mix Tape Faux Pas and I blame it on him not actually being a runner. This song could have actually slowed me down and I am pretty sure it made me want to go home and smoke a.........cigarette.
7. Rapper's Delight. Sugarhill Gang. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NwaW4cZNwRk Oh my. I almost cried when this song came on! If you are not a runner - play this song and you almost will HAVE to run. "Ho-tel, mo-tel Holiday Inn..." Tell me that doesn't make you wanna run??? Hubby, I think I love you.
8. Rehab. The late Amy Winehouse. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KUmZp8pR1uc&ob=av2e Wow. I almost felt like saying a rosary when this came on. Who knew she'd be dead when I played this song on my mix tape??? It was creepy and spiritual all at the same time.
9. Ride With Me. Nelly. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eMBlq023IL8. MUST BE THE MONEY. Love. This. I did feel a little like smoking again though. Just sayin'.
10. Run Around. Blues Traveler. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BcTZHbNd8Gk. Totally unexpected after Nelly. Great move, babe. You know just how to mix it up!

Okay. That's not all, but that's all I'm gonna give you. I did run for one hour and fifteen minutes after all and I don't want to totally bore you. Just know that when I was literally BREAKING DOWN. Saint of Me by the Rolling Stones came on. Hubby must know that Mick Jagger is possibly the only man that could make me keep running when my knees are screaming, "STOP or we are QUITTING." Before you leave me a comment saying that this may be just like a date night and not a true key to a Happy Marriage. Dont' worry! I have already thought of that. I know that tomorrow when I hear UB40 I may actually be annoyed. But, that's where the second part of the title comes in. I will always think back to the first time I heard the Playlist and I will have to smile because hubby loves me!

So, if want to stay married more than 20 years I have just a little advice for you. Get out there and make your spouse a mix tape. Or, if it's your spouse that's the music addict tell him/her you want a mix tape. And then start running or doing whatever you do. That's all I got for today. Happy Mixin'! And, you can thank me later for saving your marriage. ;o)

It's Not New Year's, but I'm Ready for a Resolution

2011-08-25T11:51:00.000-07:00

So, I am not quite sure why, but I feel like some resolutions. August 25th? Could be I'm ready for the New Year? Don't know. Don't care. Here are my August 25th Resolutions (don't worry - there aren't many):

1. Throw some useless crap away daily. Or at least ask hubby's permission to do so. It's HARD living in just under 2000 square feet (and no, that's not a typo) with six people who are growing daily (not me - hopefully - my kids).
2. To SLOWLY make my house cozier and to like my areas more daily. I HATE to decorate and I suck at it. But, I am learning and I can make small adjustments on my own.
3. To read something great everyday.
4. Learn to make more yummy drinks (not just alcoholic - but those, too).
5. Do more with photos.

Okay, that's it. How did I measure up today?

Hung a papercutting done by my very talented sister about 2 years ago in my niche and made my niche look how I have wanted it to look for years. I took a photo of it to show you, but I can't download it to my new Toshiba. Damn. Will try to fix that later (after I shower - which incidentally was added to my list for today - thank me later ;o).
Made a stack of about 10 periodicals for hubby to recycle or MOVE out of my space.
Started The Reader by Bernhard Schlink and read some of my favorite blogs www.jpmeehan.blogspot.com/ (I have many, many more but I am on a schedule damnit).
Made a great pot of tea with my new favorite tea maker from IKEA http://www.ikea.com/us/en/catalog/products/90150071. One Decaf tea bag (any brand will do), two raspberry Celestial Seasoning bags, and a dash of ginger. Pour very hot water in the pot and brew for five minutes. Serve immediately over lots of ice. Oh, yummy.

Wish me luck and hope you are surviving the new school year!

CLEP study guide for parent orientation

2011-08-24T09:17:00.000-07:00

Last night marks the third time I have been "oriented" to being a parent of a second grader. Thursday night I will be oriented to third grade for the second time, and later this year I will be First Communion parent oriented for the third time (Catholics are harsh ). And, as I was sitting there intrigued and fascinated, I thought about CLEPping. Remember that? Maybe you are going through it now, or maybe you are old enough to have a child going through it. I remember it from high school Spanish. And I remember experiencing CLEPping again for college math courses. For those of you inexperienced with it - it's when you can just take a test in order to "CLEP" out of a subject that presumably you already know. Officially CLEP stands for: College Level Entrance Program.

So, as I'm sitting there last night learning how to make sure my second grader is doing her math facts in the appropriate amount of time I stumbled on what could be my million dollar idea. (Good news, eh? I was tempted to text hubby during his Important Work Meeting - which prevented HIM from attending said orientation - to let him know.) My idea was/is - why not have presumably knowledgeable parents take a Parent Orientation CLEP for each elementary grade level??? Now, I know what you are thinking....but, Monica, IS there a CLEP for Parent Orientation? Well, that's where the idea comes in! I decided to design one! I am starting with second grade since I figure I know that pretty well now. Lucky you - you can get in on the ground floor and read my rough draft today (aren't you happy you got up and stumbled over to your laptop?). Here it goes (let me know what you think)...

CLEP for Parents of Second Graders (correct answers to follow - you will need to turn your laptop upside down)

1. True or false: Parents must actually review their child's homework before signing off on it for the entire week and sending it back to school.

2. True or false: The second grade teacher likes it when you never check your child's Take Home and Leave At Home folder in order to remove graded papers so that by Labor Day the folder is bursting to the brim and a new folder must be purchased.

3. True or false: A progress report can be like a swift kick in the pants was in the Old Days Before Progress Reports.

4. Multiple Choice: Homework for a second grader should take approximately:
a. The amount of time it takes to pull each of the hairs out of mom's head one by one.
b. 5 hours after the screaming subsides OR until their favorite after school program comes on TV.
c. As long as it takes mom to figure out what the heck a prepositional clause is.
d. a. and b., but not c. limited clause on d.

5. True or false: Cafeterias nowadays accept all forms of credit but not actual cash. Actual cash will wind up in a mysterious place known as "I don't know what happened to it." And mom will end up owing the cafeteria $1,892.98 at the end of the year for one lunch (that wasn't even very healthy because Jamie Oliver hasn't been to our school yet).

6. True or false: Library books and textbooks are the property of the school and should they be lost or damaged see #6. for the cost to parent.

7. True or false: Student attendance at school is critical for learning at school to occur.
Author's Note: This seems like a giveaway to me, but at least five minutes is spent each year covering the importance of attendance.

8. True or false: Should your child be legitimately sick you must write a note explaining in detail the sickness (not just He/She was sick.). Example: "Please excuse Johnny. He was sick with projectile vomiting and diarrhea causing me to scrub the floors till you could eat off them, wash the sheets which hadn't been washed in weeks, and bathe the dog." Parent must sign note in blood.

9, True or false: BIRTHDAY TREATS SUCH AS CUPCAKES MAY BE SENT ON A CHILD'S BIRTHDAY (OR CLOSEST WEEKDAY SHOULD HIS/HER BIRTHDAY OCCUR ON A WEEKEND), BUT SAID TREATS WILL NOT BE EATEN IN THE CAFETERIA BECAUSE CHILDREN NOWADAYS MUST EAT THEIR LUNCH IN 27 MINUTES AND 34 SECONDS WITH NO EXCEPTIONS AND SHOVING A CUPCAKE IN THEIR MOUTHS IN ONE SECOND FLAT AND SWALLOWING WITHOUT CHEWING WOULD THROW THE ENTIRE SCHOOL TIME SCHEDULE OFF RESULTING IN CHAOS AND UNENDING CRAZINESS.
Author's Note: If it seems like I am shouting on #9...I am.

10. True or false: Your kids' public school teacher does an often thankless, underpaid job and usually loves your kid as much (and sometimes more) than you do and you should try and be nice to her or bake her some cookies sometime or send her a gift card.

That's my CLEP test! Let me know how you think you did. If you are worried that you didn't do too well, no worries: I will be publishing a study guide soon. (I decided against publishing the answers here upside down - you can send me $10 and I'll send you the correct answers - big ideas ain't cheap.)

Happy Hump Day and Happy Parent Orienting,

Quitting the Day Job

Back In The Saddle...or at least on the farm

2011-08-23T11:16:00.000-07:00

Hello, friends. It's been about...oh....since JUNE since I've blogged. I do not have a great explanation for my absence (four kids 24/7, needy husband, vacation plans, cooking, cleaning, laundry, blah, blah, blah), but I am going to try to make it up to you. After being gone for so long, I was soooooo tempted to just roll up my blog and go home, but instead I have decided to persist and write what I got! Not Pulitzer Prize, but here it goes...

Random Thoughts on the Second Day of School 2011

1. 5:45 a.m. rolls around fast when you go to bed at 11:30 p.m.
2. My children who were positively giddy about getting up the first day of school were not nearly so excited about it the second day of school.
3. It doesn't take long for procrastination to rear its ugly head when you are alone in your house with a napping two year old.
4. The two year old will actually nap when her older three siblings are GONE.
5. There are a few things eight year olds can get away with that adults just can't. Example: Smelling armpits incessantly to see if you need deodorant yet.
6. My nine year old boy has taken a sudden interest in what I am wearing every time we are headed out of the house. To said nine year old boy: Thank you, I can dress myself. I have been doing it for over 30 years (well over).
7. Coffee with a friend after First Day of the New School Year Drop Off did work well to ward off tears for a short time.
8. It may be time to put more than three things on the to-do list since I am finding I can get them all done with only one child by 8:30 a.m.
9. Showering may be put on the list again.
10. Summer 2011 was hands-down the BEST summer yet and I am blessed to have experienced it.
11. Call me nuts, but the end of another summer and the beginning of another school year remains a bittersweet time for me. I am happy that we are moving forward and I am sad that we are one year closer to separation.

In the vein of the great Alcoholics Anonymous I will not say I am back to blogging. I will be cautious and say instead I am back to blogging today! I recognize I could fall off the wagon again at any time.

Here's to a Happy School Year 2011, friends! :o)

P.S. We are here. Wish you were beautiful.

2011-07-11T19:57:00.000-07:00

So, we are back home. You didn't even know I was gone? Don't worry - I didn't miss you either. ;o) I was having TOO MUCH FUN. If you are a regular reader you know that 2011 started out MISERABLY for me and my family. Well, I am here to tell you that the last week of June it redeemed itself.

I have been home two full weeks and have not managed to bring you a vacation post because 1. We arrived home just in time for the July 4th celebrations. 2. I have had family in town since the fourth, and 3. My great friend at http://www.cyberbones.com/ and her fabulous family have been in town. Whew! So, I started this post a while back and might finally manage to finish it now!

I am not sure how to give you a vacation summary, so I am going to do it the best way I know how......................a LIST!!! Yowza!

My Summer Vacation 2011 - or Random helpful thoughts, facts, and vacation trivia from our family to yours.

1. Teeny tiny towns in west Texas can be scary and depressing places. Often times there are more people at the rest stops on the way out of town than are listed on the Population "251" signs.
2. I married lucky because I love, love, love my in-laws. Despite the fact that they live in one of these teeny tiny towns I manage to have a fabulous time when we go visit. I weakly (weak because I have eaten too much yummy food) offer to help my mother-in-law and when she says, "No, that's okay. You rest." I say, "Okay." If that's wrong, then that's not what I did the entire time we were there.
3. When there is an ad in the two sheet local newspaper for Star Gazing and it starts at 5:00 p.m. when the temperature is still 112, know that the star you will be gazing is......................THE SUN. ;o) (That's just a little star gazing tip just in case you are in west Texas someday in a teeny tiny town and you decide to head up to Copper Breaks State Park for a little "star gazing.")
4. Despite it's incredible beauty, another name for Copper Breaks State Park is Too Damn Close to the Sun State Park.
5. It takes a two year old a while to adjust to "vacation time." This adjustment will usually be complete the day you arrive back home.
6. Have everyone pee and poop before you get back in the car to drive back to where ever you are staying after any trip out from that place. OR stop 100 times for every 30 miles, OR have a place to thoroughly wash a car seat.
7. Did I say I married lucky because I love my in-laws? My kids do not annoy my in-laws and I love that. My mother-in-law knows just what to say (or not to say) when my two year old is having a holy hell meltdown after she has peed all over her carseat, has not napped or had a decent nights sleep in three days, and nothing will calm her.
8. You can make a two hour road trip with four kids feel like Disneyland by taking your four kids on an eight hour road trip four days beforehand.
9. Great Wolf Lodge http://www.greatwolf.com/grapevine/explore was my kids' paradise (and thereby mine)...or damn close.
10. GWL developers are thinkers for several reasons - one of which - they positioned the bar right next to the baby pool. ;o) My GWL schedule went something like this: swim, drink, slide, eat, sleep, repeat.
11. Turns out you are never too old to enjoy the hell out of a water slide.
12. All the deprivation my kids endure on a daily basis because we are broke, or because momma doesn't believe in it pays off when we go to places like GWL. Without getting on a soapbox, I am talking about things like McDonald's happy meals and indoor play areas, tons of video games, pedicures and manicures for girls who don't have jobs, movies on demand, eating out everyday of the week, and other things that don't happen regularly at my house. I can honestly say that my kids asked for no extras at GWL. And know that as much as I loved GWL, it is a suck-you-in-and-eat-all-of-daddy-and-momma's-money kind of place.
13. My nine-year old boy made me smile so hard I nearly broke my face when he sheepishly asked if he could have a Build-A-Bear too. AND agreed to be photographed giving his wolf a "bath."
14. That SAME boy made me smile hard again when he didn't want to leave Legoland http://www.legolanddiscoverycenter.com/dallasfw/en/plan-your-visit/how-to-find-us.htm. I wanted to bottle that feeling I had and save it for when he does something really stupid in high school.
15. And 15 only because I like multiples of five. It was the best vacation to date, but there is really nothing like sleeping in your own bed after 7 days on the road.

Thanks for the read and I hope you are having a GREAT summer. :o)

Wordfull Wednesday

2011-06-22T07:05:00.000-07:00

As you know I am addicted to reading blogs. Blogs that interest me either keep me in touch with friends that have moved, make me laugh a lot, or are just plain interesting. A blog I have enjoyed lately is http://jpmeehan.blogspot.com/ Adventures in Self Reliance. I don't laugh easily and often times I find myself chuckling out loud at my computer reading about her kids' antics. I also love that she is disciplined enough to write regularly and to have special "features." I love her feature "Overheard" just listing funny things she's overheard during the day. If you are a mom, this is definitely worth your read and bound to make you laugh.

It prompted me to start writing down amusing things I have heard my kids say either to me or to each other. My attempt will not be nearly as consistent or as funny as hers, and I questioned even publishing it. But, I am publishing today because it is hump day during the summer and you may just need a reason to make it through the rest of the week. For a more extensive laugh to get you through - check out Adventures in Self Reliance's latest "Overheard" - you won't be disappointed that you did.

Here goes my attempt and hope it helps! (And hubby made this list too because he often makes me laugh out loud.)

Easter Sunday - S. to her sister, C. regarding a black jelly bean, "Do not eat that one. That is the basil one."
C. (with a pensive look on her face) - "But, I like basil. How come the black ones taste so yucky?"
S. (because she is older therefore wiser) - "Because we only like basil on pasta, not in candy."

M. at dinner - "Mom, remember that kid I told you about, Joshua?"
Me - "Mmm-hmm."
M. - "He had surgery."
Me - "Surgery??? For what???"
M. - "He had his dependence taken out."
Me - "His dependence?" (Thinking - Wow, that's gotta hurt.)
M. - "Well, it sounds like dependence, but it's in your body."
Me - "Ah. I think that would be his appendix."
M. - "Yeah! That's the one."

S- Mom, I cannot be in that small spot because I am acrobatic.
Me - Acrobatic?
S - Does that mean you can't get in small spaces?
Me - No....that would be CLAUSTROPHOBIC.

M. - Mom, you know my Superheroes game on my DSI?
Me - Yes.
M. - Well, you know how one of the super powers is the guy can gravitate?
Me - (Thinking about gravitate.)
M. - Like he gets higher and higher and you can go under him?
Me - Ah. Do you mean levitate?
M. - YES!

Hubby - Oops. Instead of Linkedin I typed Kinkedin.

Me - Wow. You are coming up with a whole new type of social networking, eh?
Hubby - Naw. From what I'm seeing, that one's already covered.
Me - Nice.

Happy Hump Day!

I'm not a food critic, but I play one on my blog.

2011-06-20T19:06:00.000-07:00

What's up? Paesanos, that's what. http://www.paesanosriverwalk.com/ It was "date afternoon" the other day (Git your mind outta the gutter, people - I'm talkin' straight up LUNCH.) and hubby had a coupon given to him by a generous patient for Paesanos. If you are not local, Paesanos has a history in our lovely city. For years there was one location and that was on McCullough (I think. Unfortunately the original location could not be confirmed by our waiter nor could the reason why the owners left that location). I had gone there a few times back in my college days and I only remembered that..........I loved it. E. had never been there. So, we decided to make it a lunch date to avoid waiting and crowds (two things that as we age we really can tolerate less and less).

Score on those first two counts. We arrived at the riverwalk location a little past the noon hour on a Saturday to find the restaurant about a third full. It was about 8000 degrees outside so we opted for indoor dining. We were seated immediately, greeted, had our drink orders taken, and brought some really fragrant, spiced bread. It was similar to what you get at Macaroni's, but had more texture to the actual bread and did not taste processed to death. Did I like it? Let's just say, I restrained myself by not eating the entire loaf.

We ordered Parmesan Crusted Artichoke Hearts for our appetizer. Are you drooling? If not, you should be. If you have ever read my restaurant "reviews" you know that I fall hard for every artichoke I meet. These things were delish. Although I am no professional, I will try my best to describe them. They were artichoke hearts crusted (not heavy) in some sort of breading. I almost want to say that they might have been marinated in something yummy before being breaded. Regardless, the texture was heaven. It was slightly crunchy yet thin on the outside and tender heart on the inside. But, the sauce is really what made the dish. It was some sort of creamy, basil-y, white/green sauce. Covered with grated Parmesan. Not only super yummo, but so pretty. How's that for amateur? I was sorry I had ordered an actual entree after tasting these babies. And you know I have a HUGE appetite.

Our salads came while we were still ooing and ahing over these artichokes and I must say the salad was my one true regret of the afternoon. I opted for a Caesar salad (boring) while E. opted for the house salad with tomato, olives, and feta. My recommendation - go for what E. ordered if you are ordering a salad. He raved about it. Green olives on salad? Oh, yeah. I could go for that. As I listened to E. rave about his salad the entire time I was eating mine I could only think, "Why? Why did I order Caesar???" Really the only Caesar salad I have ever eaten that was worth it's weight was at Silo http://siloelevatedcuisine.com/. But, that's before I was a pseudo restaurant blogger, so I will have to revisit Silo and blog about that later.

I do not regret my entree. I went with classic Shrimp Paesano which I have had before, and I was not sorry. It was just like I remember it....only better. I'm sorry I cannot describe it. You will just have to eat it yourself. It's delish. Shrimp lightly breaded and yummy, lemony, buttery, garlicky, fresh pasta-y, and enough to eat the next day (or later the same day if you can't resist). E. got chicken fettuccine. I refused to taste his because I do not condone ordering chicken fettuccine in any Italian restaurant (sorry, E.). For the record, he said it was some of the best he's had.

Dessert? Well, here's a shocker. I didn't order any. Boo. Did I say I had one regret? I have two. I so wish I had ordered the chocolate turtle? cake. I think the waiter said "turtle." I have a tendency to stop listening once I hear the word "chocolate."

Prices - about right. Service - friendly, attentive, quick.

So, to sum up: Eat at Paesanos as soon as you can. Your tummy will thank you.

Technology: A Cautionary Tale

2011-06-19T19:06:00.000-07:00

So, it's Father's Day 2011 and it's been, oh about...a-long-time since I've blogged and there are about 2000 other things I could write about. BUT, I thought since I haven't written in a while, I would bring you a cautionary technology tale. A kind of Public Service Announcement. Consider it a Father's Day gift. Or if you are not a father - just consider it my gift to you (I know, I know. I am always thinking of others).

Here's the set-up in my house. Basically it's Dueling Computers. No, we are not techies. No, we do not grow money on trees and thereby buy all the technology we want. We have one fairly old laptop that is "mine," one brand spankin' new Toshiba laptop that is "sometimes mine," one dEEOInosaur from the ice age when computers actually looked like TV's (Remember large, fat TVs? No? Well, then you are too young to be reading my blog.) - that one is the "kids," and one of hubby's "work laptops" that only runs Very Important Work Programs That Are Useless to the Average American. Any given day or night you can find the kids playing games on the dinosaur and whining incessantly about no sound, it moves too slow to shoot anything, why can't they have a real computer, blah, blah, blah, me "working" on my old laptop, and hubby fooling around with his work laptop (presumably doing actual work), and also doing Very Important Stuff on the Toshiba.

I think a timeline would be helpful and since I have lost all track of time, I am just going to make-up a timeline. One night, let's call it Tuesday night, when hubby and I were feeling particularly technologically savvy, we decided to load all of our External Hard drive Very Important Information onto the Toshiba. We did it! It was a team effort, but we were successful (as evidenced by then having to open every file on the Toshiba and comment about how it all looked correct and normal). Mission Accomplished. We felt like pros.

Wednesday night hubby was doing work on his work laptop and fooling around on the Toshiba when a sound came out of his mouth that I can only describe as horror and amazement? If it had been a word the word would have been EEGADS. I mumbled, "Huh?" from my laptop. He quickly told me that ALL our files we had loaded just the night before onto the Toshiba were gone, lost, vanished. I did nothing. I did not comment or react because I was absolutely sure that he was nuts and/or was not looking in the correct place on the computer. So this type of conversation ensued for about 10 minutes:

Him: BABE!!! Everything is GONE! How can this be???
Me: Hmm.
Him: Jeez!!! Aren't you freaking out??? Don't you care???
Me: That's weird. For sure.
Him: Holy CRAP (not his EXACT words)!!! I freaking HATE COMPUTERS! What is the deal??? How can this be???
Me: So are you sure they are gone?
Him: Sheesh. ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME??? What the heck is wrong here??? Didn't we just load this crap yesterday???
Me: Hmm.

Now, after this continued for 10 minutes I decided to get up and walk the two feet across the table to examine the computer with him. THEN the conversation went a little like THIS:

Me: %$HS#!!! What the heck??? Where the heck are all the files???
Him: I don't freaking know!!! What the heck is going on here???
Me: It's like we are in some sort of altered universe.
Him: What should I do???
Me: I don't know. Shut the whole thing down and REBOOT. This is freaking crazy. What the heck could have happened???
Him: Okay. Let's THINK, babe. Let's shut down. Maybe something mysterious and weird has happened that we wouldn't understand. Shutting down.
Me: Do it.

Silence.

More silence.

Him: (Very quietly.) Oh, um babe. It's the wrong computer. This is my WORK computer. The files are on the Toshiba. We loaded the files on the Toshiba. We've been looking on my work laptop.
Me: You are kidding, right?
Him: (Very quietly again.) No, not kidding.

Doh!

After we got over the shock of our Very Important Files not disappearing into thin air, we had a good belly laugh. As I am sure you are laughing at us now. As you know, I have no pride. So, I am not ashamed to tell you that THE VERY SAME THING happened about one week later. Of course, we realized quicker (after only about 6 minutes) that hubby was looking at the wrong computer.

Moral of the Story: If you are not a techie and you are experiencing technological difficulties run through your list of helpful troubleshooting questions. Is the computer plugged in? Is the computer on? And ADD to the list, IS THE COMPUTER YOURS?

Happy Father's Day!

Turn your calendar. Summer's here.

2011-06-02T20:13:00.000-07:00

It's SUMMER! Can you believe it? Summer always comes with mixed emotions for me. The good: no more lunches to pack, no more schedule to follow, no more homework to help with, no more bedtime to adhere to, no more teachers to explain to. The bad: my kids are aging before my eyes. The ugly: Me having my midlife crisis and crying in random places that are embarrassing to my four kids and my four kids whining about me crying in weird places. So, I know that's kind of disjointed, but that's why you haven't heard from me in a while. Basically, I've been happy/sad that my kids are successfully growing up and passing to the next grade. (I didn't say I was rationale.)

I desperately want to be happy about summer because I love summer, but I feel a tugging at my heart (or it could just be that midlife crisis thing) knowing that we don't have that much time left. Nuts, huh? The kids are in elementary for heaven's sake. I know. Even as I type it (or think it for that matter) it seems crazy. But it's how I feel. I look at them and I can barely remember when the older three were 3, 2, and 1. And, sadly I don't really want to remember much from those days.

Looking back it seems that I spent much of that time wishing they were older and could do more for themselves because...I was flat-out exhausted. Now, I spend a lot of time being amazed (and just a little sad) about how much they don't need me anymore.

The retrospection has been mostly good. I try to spend more time now enjoying the moments rather than wishing for the future. I am excited for this summer. I am excited to have more time with them (and, yes, you can quote me on that later - like tomorrow - when I am ready to ship them all to summer school). Happy dog days!

A Pleasant Surprise

2011-05-14T19:37:00.000-07:00

Another restaurant review.

I have eaten out since my last one, but nothing really worth blogging about. I cheated on Rosarios http://rosariossa.com/ once or twice (and it wasn't worth it) and I got in a fight and made up with Rosarios. I also ate at a diner - which is noteworthy and has been a favorite with hubby and I for about 15 years. Service is inconsistent, but the food has been consistently good, down home cooking spanning 15 years and a change in management. Check it out if you are local. http://www.410diner.com/default2.html

Now, I am not a fan of restaurants couched in strip malls, or attached to gas stations mostly because of the fact that it seems as if they are there because they have not graduated to be real restaurants. But, I also tend to be tongue tied when hubby says, "Let's go to lunch. What are you hungry for?" and we have an hour and a half to make a decision, drive to a restaurant, eat leisurely, and drive home so that I can pick up a child or children before the school calls the cops. So, that is how I ended up at the nearby Spicy Ginger restaurant http://www.spicygingersa.com/ last Thursday after the lunch crowd.

It is couched in a strip mall along with one of the places with which we bank, so I drive by it quite a bit. A few friends had told me it was good, so we decided to check it out. I am so happy we did.

I was surprised immediately upon entering because for being in a tiny strip mall and for being a small Asian restaurant, it was decorated quite nicely. This is not a commentary about the decorating in small Asian restaurants but do you know the red walls, Chinese calendar menus, Buddha theme? Well, this was not of that variety. The ambiance was warm, inviting, and the pendant lighting added a comfortable feeling.

I will get right to the food because it was yummy. I ordered (and, yes, I am a big eater) four "crab and cream cheese puffs" for an appetizer. They came and looked like neat little pillows. You could have almost mistaken them for tiny sopapillas. They had some cilantro and julienned carrots in the middle of the plate. An attractive touch and super delicious when I picked it up and put it in my puff. The puffs were steaming hot when I ripped them open. Did I mention that I love my food hot when it's supposed to be hot? The puff itself was a little thicker than the crab rangoons I have eaten and now I think I like them thin and thick. I thought the puffs could have had a bit more filling, but the flavor was good.

It was difficult for me to decide on a main dish because I liked the noodle selection (always a good sign). I picked Vietnamese noodles and decided to give tofu a try. It's been a long time since I've eaten tofu and I wanted to see if I still liked it. I was really happy with my choice. The bowl came and it was a bowl. I ate that lunch and lunch/snack the next day (which unfortunately I had to share with my foodie nine year old boy). The noodles were hot and the flavors mixed together excellently. The cucumber was sliced a little thicker than in the Vietnamese noodles I've had before. I liked that. I could really taste the flavor that way. There were carrots, lots of cilantro, lettuce, beansprouts, and a slight lemony flavor. Lemongrass? Really great combination of flavors. The tofu was spicy and had the consistency of chicken. I have no idea if that is normal since it's been so long since I've had tofu, but it was good and tasted like soy sauce. Sidenote: The next day my nine year old (who has no idea what tofu is) said, "Give me all the chicken pieces, mom." Then he claimed how great the chicken was in the noodles.

Hubby enjoyed what he had - Moo Goo Gai Pan. But, it didn't look nearly as delish as mine, so I didn't ask for a bite.

I thoroughly enjoyed my meal, the ambiance was nice, and the service was great. The prices? I couldn't make it for cheaper (let's be honest - I couldn't make it at all). I will go back. :o)

Healthy Diet and Exercise, or EAT THE CAKE FIRST!

2011-05-06T07:05:00.000-07:00

As many of you know, I am going through a crazy-a$$ midlife crisis which at any given moment can range in depth and proportion but for the most part is centered around, "I need to workout like a mad and crazy woman so that I can have a healthy body which may not look great, but that down deep is muscled and toned, and I need to change my eating habits from things that taste great to things that are good-for-you."

I said this is a "mid-life crisis" which I will clarify by saying:
1. I am not even sure what that means, and
2. I am realizing as the days pass that it is irrational on some levels.

Why? Nothing profound and requiring years of therapy. It is quite simply difficult to understand and irrational - because I have four kids.

Yesterday: Case in Point

5:40 - Alarm rang
6:00 - I was up. Head ached from lack of sleep and no IV for my coffee.
6:45 - Peeps were up, breakfast was underway, lunches were being packed.
7:15 - We headed out the door a full 15 minutes early because I was dreaming of a pre-ZOO FIELD TRIP WITH MY NINE YEAR OLD BOY workout. HUH? Yeah, I know. Irrational on some level.
7:30 - I was back home and promptly popped in the Reebok girl with whom I planned on "stepping" for 35 minutes.
7:30 - 8:00 - I stepped, got sweaty, stopped (yes, stopped) a few times to help a two year old pee and poop, I thought about the million things that had to be done before I could drop said two year old off at MDO and get on to the field trip.
8:00 - I said good-bye to my stepping friend early because I was then feeling a little frantic about what had to be done. I promised myself that AFTER the zoo field trip when I was fresh and perky (???) I would finish my workout or do an additional workout with KK (can you see irrationality rearing its ugly head?).
8:00 - 8:50 - I ate a bowl of healthy oatmeal and a banana, fixed a healthy lunch for myself for the zoo (two homemade California rolls, one two day old apple, water, and trail mix with just a little dark chocolate in it), fixed "lunch" for my two year old who never eats anything anyway, got her dressed, cleaned the kitchen, put in a load of laundry, brushed and fixed her hair, showered, got dressed, packed everything twice after the two year old was helping me and unpacked it all.
9:00 - I was on my way to the zoo.
10:00 - I ate the trail mix because I was starving.
10:45 - I ate the rest of my son's heavily buttered and salted popcorn to "lighten my load" because popcorn is heavy.
11:30 - We broke for lunch and I ate the California rolls. Note to self: these are only yummy when they are fresh. And I attempted to eat the apple which was mealy.
11:30 - 1:30 - I walked around the zoo and resisted the urge to buy an ice cream.
2:00 - 2:30 - I picked up baby, did a frantic thing at home that we like to call, "get-kids'-stuff-ready-for-piano-lessons-prep-for-a-quick-yet-healthy-dinner-which-has-presumably-been-planned-load-up-the-Yukon-and-take-off!"
2:50 - My two girl children bounded into the Yukon with Mother's Day Cakes that they had made at school. I am pretty sure that's when my mouth started to water and I realized I was starving.
2:50 - 5:45 - Kids complained about no snack, they completed their piano lessons, and I tried to focus while dreaming of how I could justify eating cake for dinner AND eating the Mother's Day cakes four days before Mother's Day.
5:50 - Hubby called and asked what was for dinner. I said, "Biscuits? And........Mother's Day Cakes?"
6:00 - 6:20 - We arrived home to an unplanned dinner. Chaos ensued. Backpacks flew, kids rushed to "talk" to dad, I frantically heated up a serious modge-podge of leftovers (including biscuits), and we unwrapped and examined both cakes. We all dutifully ooed and ahed over the cakes.
6:25 - I got out a fork.

All my kids exclaimed, "MOM WHAT ARE YOU DOING???"

I quietly said, "I am eating the cake."

All my kids shouted, "YOU HAVEN'T EATEN DINNER AND IT'S FOR MOTHER'S DAY???"

I quietly said, "It's MY cake and if you be quiet I will give you some before your dinner, too."

Silence ensued, I ate my cake and there went my healthy diet.

Later when all the peeps were in bed, hubby was at the gym and I was WAY too exhausted to workout with KK or the Reebok girl. I blog-surfed and was in bed by 10:30.

And that is how the exercise went.

Healthy day, my friends. Cake is on the menu for breakfast this morning and may just turn into lunch. :o)