I do not want to pack your lunch. I can't even pack my lunch.

You guys, it just took an act of congress to sign-in to my blog.

I am "this many years old" (written with a smug look on my face that says - I am sick of 'I am this many years old'), y'all:

1.  Get my coffee.
2.  Decide, after stewing about two things for two weeks to write it down even though I have 18,000 things to do right now that do not remotely involve me sharing with anyone how I am feeling.
3.  Turn on my laptop.
4.  Check my email (I have deleted all but nine emails after having thousands for years, so sometimes I just check my email even though I know there's only 9 because it makes me feel like I am actually doing something useful in life).
5.  Check my bank account (Because I can, y'all.  I got online banking after 35 years).
6.  Go to my blog's http.
7.  Click 'sign-in.'
8.  Make a confused face when Google asks me what account I'd like to use (5 choices pop-up).  Who are these people?  Why does Google have all these accounts for me?  Did I make them?  Google:  I hate you.  Do I really want to write a blog post?
9.  Pick one randomly.
10.  Cuss when I log-in with a password I have pulled out of my ass (and it works - there might be a God and she knows me) and Google tells me there are no blogs currently for this account.  Would I like to &*%^$*&% start one?  There is no god.
11.  Lose the will to write anything.
12.  Pull my Password Book (titled Password Book) off the shelf.
13.  Cuss as I look at all the pages where I've written UPDATED PASSWORD FOR MY BLOG.  Who am I?  Do I even deserve a blog?  DO I EVEN UNDERSTAND HOW THE INTERNET WORKS?  Decidedly, no and no.
14.  Go to the link under Help that says, "I am a moron and I still cannot log into my blog.  I have tried selling my first born and that has not worked.  Please help me with a step-by-step."  (Google does know me.)
15.  Change my &*%^$^$# email account AND my password AND write it down in the book AND log into my blog.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.  Here we all are, FINALLY.

I no longer remember what I had to write and I am so mad that my fingers are making nice clicking sounds on the keys.

Okay.  Here we go.  The two things I have really quick since I spent most of the time I don't have logging in.

Y'all, why are high school students not packing their own lunches?  This has gotten under my skin so much that it has caused me to gain weight.  I think.

So, I attended a sports meeting with my sophomore the other night and when the coach asked are there any questions a mom said, "Yes.  I pack Tommy his snacks and water bottle, but I just want to make sure that there is water available at the meets that he can access."

Okay.  I communicate with my sophomore girl right now exclusively through texts and side-eyes except when she wants to berate me for like not buying enough blueberries.  I gave her a side-eye at this point that said, "Is she f&*%$^ serious?  Is Tommy in PreK?"

PLEASE NOTE:  I teach PreK and I am not a judge Judy when it comes to parenting.  But, this really got under my skin.  If you are a sophomore in high school and you are involved in sports, should you not know how to ask for water in the Texas heat (which is still above 1000 degrees F)?  AND WHY IS SHE STILL PACKING HIS SNACKS AND WATER BOTTLE???  My kids started packing their lunches (mostly under duress) when they were like in fourth grade.

When I posted this question (innocently, I thought) on Twitter (nothing is innocent on Twitter, I know), I got the interesting response that he might have a condition that would require help.  Yeah, I get that.  I'm a teacher and a parent of four.  But, still.  My PreK kids (some of whom have unique needs) take out all their own snacks and water bottles and fill up their water bottles with minimal assistance.

What I really think is going on here is something I read about last night.  What is happening??  I know now that I am not the only one out there in the universe who does not need to know when my child is picking their nose.  I haven't made dinner in months, you guys, let alone put trackers on my kids' phones.

Maybe this is hitting me so hard because I feel guilty all of a sudden for being such a sub-par parent or maybe it's because I am seeing sooooo many capable, yet helpless PreK students entering my class, or maybe I am turning into a cranky old lady.  I suspect it's all three.  So, yeah.  I just had to get that off my chest.

And the other thing (yeah, go ahead, picture me):

Sophomore girl comes home the other day and tells me and her dad that she learned in her child development class about the character traits parents should have.  Before she even recounted them my thought was, "Maybe I'll have one?"  She carefully pointed out the ones we don't have.  Even collectively.

I am My Kid Tells Me I Shouldn't Have Had Kids years old.



Immediately I thought of all the traits missing from her teacher's list.  Oh, and, lest you think I'm completely heartless (you are not too far off the mark at this point) - lots of big love for HS child development teachers everywhere.  I don't even know how they actually communicate with high school students.

Essential Parenting Traits (short list)

1.  A sense of humor.  Could this one literally not cover for all the other traits you don't have?
2.  The ability to listen attentively to Minecraft drivel you don't understand for literally years even though you are thinking about how many more miles you can drive without running out of gas, is there milk in the fridge, do you have clean underwear for work tomorrow, when is Christmas.
3.  The best playlist to get you through all the feels and to teach your kids what real music sounds like.  (I mean shouldn't that one literally be a requirement for pregnancy?)
4.  The ability to potty train a human without losing life (yours or theirs).
5.  The ability to multi-task while multi-tasking.
6.  The ability to clean up pee, poop, vomit, and any other thing that comes out of a human.
7.  Have enough love in your heart to cover for all the times you screw up like sending your kid to school dressed like they're 100 when it's really only the 99th day of school.  And ice cream.  You're gonna need the ability to buy lots of ice cream after pulling crap like that on your kids.

I'm gonna just stop at seven even though my mind was going on and on.

Then I asked her if the teacher gave them a list of traits teenage girls should have.  She gave me a side-eye.

That's all I got.  I feel a little better after writing it all down.  It's too late to go back.  On most days, I am doing the best I can and I respect parents everywhere doing the best they can.  Sometimes it's hard down here in the trenches.

Below I have included a short video because it restored my faith in our parenting thus far. If our kid makes videos while doing math online and they are so funny I have to watch them like a billion times while still finding things to laugh about, then, yeah.  I think we're doing it ok enough.

I needed something else to do.

This is my brain on "serious."

Did you see the new badge in my sidebar?  I'm pretty excited about it.  My four kids, three jobs, and one husband have left me with plenty of time (and money) and I was looking for something to do.  Wait.  No.  That's not how it happened.

I was feeling somewhat depressed the other night while I was ignoring the pile of work on my desk and blog reading.  In the hopes that I'd won a Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes, I decided to check my email one last time before heading to bed.  Better than a sweepstakes, I had an email from BlogHer about an opportunity to participate in an initiative called #womenslives.  After I did a little research into this project, I thought probably they had mistaken me for someone a bit more influential.  But, no.  I am a woman after all.  And, turns out, my voice matters.

#womenslives is an amazing venture.  SheKnows Media and Public Radio International are partnering to produce in-depth reporting about women and engage communities in discussions.  You can read more about its inception here.

This may seem like a crazy thing for me to want to participate in when my blog is mostly about putting my pants on one leg at a time and trying to cook a meal without the smoke alarm going off. 

Don't worry.  I'm not changing and to prove it I made you a list of why it's not really that crazy.

1.  They want me to contribute to the conversation!?  For once I did not have to complete an eight page application, or have my blood type tested, or hand over my 25 year old GPAs, or write down my ever dwindling income level.  Being a woman is what has qualified me.  How great is that?

2.  I am a quality news junkie.  I am addicted to NPR.  I shush people (mostly my own family) when I am listening to a good show.  Most of my sentences begin like this:  The other day I heard this show on NPR...

3.  Did you know only 24% of news stories are about women?  That's shocking news for a news junkie.  This project affects all women (and men).  If we can change that statistic (and more importantly, people's mindsets) by this initiative - I'm all in.

4.  This affects me.  I've been thinking a lot lately about my life choices.  I had a career and then I left it to raise my family.  Now I am trying to make a Come-back and it's not easy.  In the past six months I think I've read everything the Internet has to offer on How to Re-enter the Work Force After Taking Time Off to Raise Your Family and I can't help but think there's got to be an easier way.  Everything from decent affordable child-care, health-care, and career choices have taken the fore-front in my brain.  To complicate matters - it turns out the successful career I had is not really the one I want now and I'm not sure it was the one I ever really wanted.  I want my girls to be able to do this thing called work and family better than I have and with more support from the community. 

5.  This affects my family.  I have three girls (and one boy that will someday, possibly like a girl?  gah!) who I am trying to raise the best way that I know how.  I try not to, but I worry about all sorts of things when it comes to my girls.  Some days my thoughts hover around:  How will I protect them from date rape? to I hope they make wiser career choices than I did. to I hope they have great affordable child care and wonderful health benefits. to Are they getting the education they need?  Participating in expanding the news coverage on topics that affect women is something I can share with my girls and actually do because worrying is a waste of time.

7.  Sometimes when I hear shows from PRI about women I'm left with a feeling of wanting to discuss this more with someone or I'm left wondering What can I do?  Here's my opportunity and I'm pretty psyched about it.

There you go.  I'm looking forward to the discussions and conversations.  I'll be posting some articles here and over on the Day In The Life Facebook page that I'd like to share with you or better yet, discuss with you.  And I'll be tweeting about it, too.  Grab some coffee or a beer.  Change starts here, right? 

I won a birthday, y'all!

I am editing this post because after you win something (including when I won a fully decorated one foot tall Christmas tree in Mexico in the sixth grade ((true story))) friends and relatives come out of the woodwork to claim they had something to do with your winning and why didn't you thank them and give them some of your birthday.  Edited on 1-21-15 (pre-coffee).

So, it's my birthday.  And, I don't have many friends because I'm socially awkward and an introvert, but when you are on Facebook and it's your birthday it's pretty easy to feel like the head of the cheerleading squad in high school.  And by that I mean "a big deal."  With all this popularity (and on the heels of the Grammys which I was awake to watch this year for the first time in........ever) comes the need to write an acceptance speech. 

If that seems weird to you, I don't care.  It's my birthday and I'll write an acceptance speech if I want to.

So, without further ado, my acceptance speech:

I would like to thank my parents for potty training me.  Well, probably just my mom because I remember one time in first grade I wet my pants on the way home because it was about ten degrees below zero and I think your pee freezes right on to your skin when it's that cold and she yelled out the backdoor, "YOU BETTER NOT BE WETTING YOUR PANTS AGAIN, GIRL OR I WILL SPANK YOUR BUTT!"  So, yes.  I thank my mom for potty training me and sticking with it because apparently I did not like to "go at school" (I vaguely remember there being a curse word written in black Sharpie on the bathroom stall and that scared me).  Potty training was definitely one step along the way to many a successful birthday party!

I would like to also thank my dad for having the decency to make me accept my first job at Baskin Robbins.  It was there that I learned the importance of eating all the profits and the delightful sinfulness of eating all the profits............on your birthday.

I would like to thank my kids.  Without them I would be able to vacation for less than $10,000.  Which would totally degrade the value of a vacation for me.  And if I did not value a vacation then the commercial where they say, "One plane ticket - $650, one ticket to Disney - $400, one princess with a pirate - $8,000, two hotel rooms (one for you and one for your kids) - $2,000.  The shock on your husband's face when he gets the bill - priceless," would mean absolutely nothing to me.  I'm not sure what that has to do with birthdays, but after four kids I rarely make sense.

I would like to thank my entire staff (see above) who encouraged me to work in order to win this birthday "someday."

I would like to thank my older sister, Billy Jean, who I know is reading tonight from home because she couldn't fly down here to see me accept my birthday in person (see above for the cost of a plane ticket).  Billy Jean - I love you.  You taught me about negotiation, bribery, and maybe smuggling also?  Was that you?  Anyway!  I couldn't have done all these flippin' birthdays without you!

I would be remiss (and apparently I was) if I did not mention the rest of my wonderful siblings.  Without them I would be one of those weird people with only one sibling who share and cooperate barely better than only children.

I would like to thank my friends - real and virtual - for encouraging me to keep having birthdays and for feeding me cake and beer over the years.  Particularly one friend who dressed me for the after-parties and who sent me this card which I think explains my life:

Naturally it is Swiss cheese holding mine together so I am screwed

I'd like to thank my ancestors, the Mayans, for inventing the calendar and birthdays. 

And how could I forget my wonderful husband, Mr. DayInTheLife!  If you hadn't discovered me and gone on to be my manager, we wouldn't have made all those movies.............wait............I'm sorry I got confused.  This is my birthday acceptance speech.  Sorry!  Thanks Mr. DayInTheLife for all of my presents you are going to buy me.

And, lastly I'd like to thank God for sending me down here in my birthday suit.  Although, I question why you didn't send me in flannel P.J.'s with matching bunny head slippers since I am much more comfortable in that.

If I forgot anyone else know that this is just like a chain email that says you will die in seven days if you don't get it.  I'm sure I forgot people.  I have a really bad memory.  Forward it to people that you think I left out inadvertently!  Then they will feel good and they won't die!

And, that's all.  Again, this is such an honor and I will cherish this birthday forever!


(Cue the birthday music.)  (Me turning to exit the stage - the wrong way.  Ladies who we don't know, but who all look like Vanna White gently guiding me by the elbow to the other direction.  Why do they not just change the way people exit the stage?  In fact, I am changing that $hit right now.  Exit the way it feels natural after you accept your birthday.)


Happy Birthday, me! 

It's either writer's block or menopause. Either way I've gained 10 pounds.

Summer is almost over and I've not written a blog post since June 4.  I will not try to explain this except to say, in a move reminiscent of Janet Jackson at Superbowl VIIXIVITIT, I lost my swimsuit bottoms in a public pool shortly after summer started.  I might have PTSD.

After a long pause in blog production there are some things that are bound to annoy the crap out of readers.

1.  Trying to explain why there has been an extreme pause in writing. 

So, let me attempt to explain the long pause in writing.  I cleaned my copper bottom pans.  Jesus.  My lack of tricep muscles are still sore and I think I found the decomposed remains of Jimmy Hoffa under the black burned stuff that was on my pots.  On the upside - I can now taste my food and I will not be mildly embarrassed if Paula Deen chances by and decides to melt me some butter sprinkled with cheese and then salted (under the guise that she is a reformed diabetic racist).

2.  Trying to explain previous blog topics and why they didn't work. 

So, here are some things I have tried to write about in the past month and then after a rereading - promptly eaten the results (which could explain why I've gained 10 pounds).

a.  How Much I Hate Barbie.  Did you know that along with being an astronaut, physicist, hooker, veterinarian, and entrepreneur, she writes books now?  And (surprise) they read a lot like the genius script from Two Broke Girls.  Because I would never believe it unless I saw it, I've included one of the pages from the book that clearly makes me proud to support public libraries through all my fines.  In case the captions look like they're in Chinese (the book was made in China, after all), I've included the (interpreted) script for you below.



Unnamed character:  Barbie!  Ken's here!  Barbie:  Oh no!  I don't have my brain in yet!  Brunette:  Barbie!  Remember, you don't have a brain!  Barbie:  Oh, yeah!  That's a relief!

  And now I think I should be a published (paid) author.

b.  How Much I Hate Insurance. 

Insurance - n.noun

1. The act, business, or system of screwing.
2. The state of being screwed.
3. A means of being screwed.
4. Coverage by a contract binding a party to indemnify another against specified loss in return for premiums paid unless such premiums go toward a "deductible" in which case the party paying the premiums is screwed out of their premiums and stuck with said specified losses.  (See #1-3.)
5. The sum or rate for which such a contract insures something or not (See #4).
6. The periodic premium paid for this coverage.  "Coverage" being a relative term dependent on the amount of said deductible which is relative and rises in relation to the amount in which the paying party is being screwed.
7. A protective measure.
8. Bullshit.

Term in use:  I f*cking hate insurance.

c.  My inability to cook even with a recipe.

Here is what I made just this morning from a biscuit recipe:

Whatthef*ckisthat?

Y'know how some people have suffered tremendous stress and then go on to like win the Olympics?  Well, I'm kind of like that.  I have suffered the loss of ruining virtually every recipe I've set out to cook and yet I've managed to come out a winner almost every time.

*Eating that idea now.  (And, it's quite delicious I might add.  Score!)*

e.  Like every other female on the planet my hormones are all out of whack.  I think I've narrowed down my afflictions (thank you, WebMD) to either ebola, menopause, a stubbed toe, or a hangnail.  The list of symptoms of menopause is a blog in and of itself (the title of that blog is:  Menopause - Serve Yourself Some More Cake).  I seem to have experienced just a few symptoms (not a comprehensive list) in the time I've had writer's block:  fatigue, depression, hot flashes, mood swings, sudden tears, inability to articulate or write, inability to cook or do laundry, sudden bouts of bloat (although apparently not enough to make the elastic in my swimsuit bottoms hold), gastrointestinal distress (could be related to my cooking?), disturbing memory loss, increased tension in the muscles, and tinnitus (could be due to my kids not being in school?).

3.  Trying to describe how much you have missed your readers.

If it weren't for virtual friends, I'd have no friends at all and I know you guys have all been reading everyone else's superior blogs and having a party without me.  What can I say?  It hurts.

So, I will not try to tell you why I've been gone, what I've been doing instead of blogging, what topics have just not worked, or how much I've missed you guys.  As some guy once said in AA, "Today I am not enjoying life as it occurs.  Today I am blogging about it instead.  I'm not sure when I will do this again and I will not make any promises.  But today I hope you guys will join me."  (Or something like that.)

Life is not Netflix.

Because it's Monday and they suck and there's nothing that's ever new on a Monday, I'm going Time Warner and doing a rerun.  Also because I've been flirting with running a 10K (someone stop me).

We'll call it TBM. Throwback Monday or The Bad Motivation.

Run a 10K or watch Breaking Bad for two hours?  Do you really have to ask?

You can thank Facebook for guilting me into ignoring you less. (You're welcome.)

There's no theme and you don't have to consider this a real post.

1.  I'm considering a 10K (I'm also considering a 10G, but I blame Breaking Bad).  Not really.  But a great friend (who is short, but could kick your a$$ because she works out with more zeal than Richard Simmons but don't worry she's not kooky or annoying) is trying to convince me that this would somehow be good for me and that I might enjoy it.  Right.  Please comment why this is a worse idea than me staying up till 2:00 watching Breaking Bad when I have to get up at 5:00 and work.

2.  Said friend lent (not the one where you give something up) me a doo-hickey that you attach to your waist (attractively?) and it carries two water bottles.  Why do I need this?  Because it's April (check your calendars) in South Texas and I'm in pre-menopause (whatever that is) so that equals hot and thirsty, y'all.  So, why did this even make the quickie list?  Because it's dorky and more than vaguely reminiscent of the notorious fanny pack.  I know every like "serious" runner does it, but I can't shake the dork factor.  Would I rather die from heat exhaustion?  I'm still thinking about it.

3.  Will you guys still like me if I am the only person in the free world that doesn't care for Breaking Bad?  Here's the thing.  I'm used to House of Cards, Orange is the New Black, and The Killing.  Breaking Bad is s-l-o-w.  Like a turtle.  Now, I've written a small amount about hubby but something you might not know about him is that he's a "multi-tasker."  When we watch Netflix he plays a game on his phone, checks his laptop for emails, shares gourmet popcorn with Bandit, and explains difficult episode material to me.  "How does he do this???" you ask.  Simple answer?  He's a guiness.  Well, I could never do that.  I have a one track mind.  (Insert snicker.)  BUT, with Breaking Bad I can.  Last night while watching I did all my paperwork, emailed two customers, and did some actual work.  And this was well past 10:00 p.m.  The hell???  (I'm giving it two more episodes and then I'm calling it quits.)  No haters, please?

4.  Captcha (Completely Automated Public Turing test to tell Computers and Humans Apart) mocks me.  As you know, my eyes are aging at an accelerated rate.  Hubby calls me (affectionately?), "old eyes."  So every time I have to "prove I'm not a robot" I get it wrong.  It's become this battle between Captcha and me.  I imagine him as a real person sitting behind a laptop somewhere commenting under his breath as I type.  "She is a robot."  "What a moron!"  "Really?  She's either blind or she's not human."  Then it's like Captcha takes pity on me kinda (after I get like five of them wrong) and he's all, "Ok, Ms. Dayinthelife.  How about this, 'U R 2 S tpD.'"  At which point I'm like, "THANK YOU!  I can do this!"

5.  This is the funniest thing I've read all month.  In fact, read this gal's blog (but don't stop reading mine).  She is beyond hysterical and pretty much delivers the truth in a highly entertaining package.  I'm going to a baby shower today and I'm considering printing off this post, wrapping it up in fancy paper, and attaching a card that says, "You'll thank me later."  As much as I love this post, it has dashed all of my dreams of ever writing a parenting book.  Because absolutely nothing could compare to this advice.

 

If you are missing something, it might have been under my fridge.

So I've been doing a lot lately (besides watching every single show on Netflix).  Here's a list that will sum it up nicely (or just sum it up) and be easier (and I hope more entertaining) than me trying to explain it all.

1.  Bandit my dog is an awful painter's helper.  He took a fair amount of spackle off the wall in one fell swoop.  He tried to eat the painter's brushes when he was washing them (right after he'd had his first bath in about eight months naturally).  He drank the painter's Big Gulp because he left it on the table.  He ate the painter's tacos because the painter did not learn from his mistake.  And he ate numerous pieces of old (and new) baseboards like they were treats we'd bought just for him.

2.  The painter is still willing to come back to do another job upstairs.

3.  There are still people in the world with "work ethic." (I'm not talking about myself here.  "Duh," you say.)

4.  My kids *might* have careers in stand up.  Or I'm unusually prejudice (most likely the latter and my kids will be living with me for a long time which I probably will not find funny at all). 

5.  The time between spring break and summer can be compared to the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas.  It's painful for parents, kids, and teachers alike.  The kids are done learning anything.  So, naturally that's when the state testing occurs.

6.  It is possible to overthink things.  This can result in hours of time spent thinking and not actually doing.  I fall victim to this phenomena a lot and it explains quite a bit about the status of my life.

7.  When you've been married over 20 years another wedding and all the ensuing presents would be helpful and probably less expensive than trying to re-do your house with your own income.  I am considering a huge 25 year anniversary party.  I will not write Please no gifts on the invitations.  In fact, I'm asking Prudie if it would be presumptuous and rude to register.  At Target.

8.  My entire paycheck has gone to Target the past few months.  Wouldn't it be easier for me to just move in there?  I guess I could offer to work a few hours, too?  And promise to wear only red and khaki?

9.  Netflix has ruined regular TV for me.  It happened slowly, but I'm pretty sure now that I can't watch regular TV anymore.  SPOILER ALERT.  I knew something huge was happening on The Good Wife and I still finished Luther on Netflix that night instead.  What's wrong with me?  Then I read in the paper that Will died and I didn't really care unless I can watch it on Netflix.  Again, Will's dead!  What's wrong with me?

10.  The kids have discovered the dog whisperer on Netflix.  I've told you guys before how much I don't really like him?  I mean really.  If my parents watched the dog whisperer I think they'd think he was dropping acid (if my parents know what that is).  But, whatever.  The kids have told me that it's the owners that must be trained (yeah, I suspected a train wreck coming, too).  And that *maybe* Bandit behaves the way he does because of me.  So, basically the dog whisperer has taught my kids that parenting dogs and kids is basically the same.  The parents will invariably be blamed for everything.

10.  When you do home repair, maintenance, and painting it makes you feel good.  It also makes you notice all the things you didn't do.  How many permanent handprints will be on all the doors before we can repaint them all, too? 

11.  Painting also can make you want to clean everything.  Remember about a year ago when I went bat $hit crazy and tried to organize every area of my house?  Well, damn it if it didn't all get dirty and disorganized again.  The hell?  So, now I'm on a cleaning frenzy again.

12.  I don't pay my house cleaner enough.  She hasn't been here in a while because the chaos would probably give her a coronary and it takes everything out of me to clean the house.  Aside from the fact that it's covered in a thin layer of painting dust/grime, I'm just not a good house cleaner. 

13.  I cleaned under the stove for the first time in about 11 years and there was an ecosystem growing under there.  It was horrific, but I did find quite a few lost toys, magnets, kitchen tools, and popcorn from the early 2000's.  No more gourmet popcorn for Bandit.  Turns out he likes years old popcorn that's covered with goo just as much!

14.  This motivated me to clean under the other three movable appliances.  Not one of the five people I live with (or Bandit) noticed or cared that I'd done it.  The hell?  Lesson?  Not doing it again for another 10-20 years. 

15.  After seven years of having three of our four kids taking piano lessons and all practicing on a digital keyboard, we bought a piano.  Now, I've never seen the movie We Bought A Zoo (if it's on Netflix, though, there's a good chance I might see it someday), but I wanted to make a mockumentary for reality TV called We Bought a Piano.  They're *kinda* like children or dogs.  You have to take care of them, they respond to temperature changes, if you treat them right they can provide joy for you your entire life, they need annual tunings (sometimes more if they get sick), they're fragile, and they cost a buttload of money.  I'm hoping this piano does not want to go to college.

16.  I miss you guys a lot.  I've vowed to be better about reading my favorite blogs and I've vowed to post more.  But let's be honest.  This might be my last post for a while or until I get out of rehab.  Last night around 10:30 p.m. hubby and I started doing something we'd been putting off for a while.  We had sex?  No.  We started Breaking Bad.   

Six days (give or take) and I'll be back.  Maybe.

Irony: When Facebook sends you an email pleasantly reminding you that you're slacking.

My sister knows me well.  That could be why she emailed me this a while back (presumably to help me out with my laziness and possible procrastination - or at least to help me laugh and understand it):



It's from Reader's Digest.  (In case I didn't already feel ancient and sloth-like.)

Of course, there are a million things I'd rather be doing than working out (or working or doing anything remotely useful). 

Mainly surfing the net, Facebooking, blog reading, book reading, eating, and sleeping.  These are also the things I do in place of blogging and posting my blog posts to my Facebook page.

Apparently Facebook knows me well, too.  Imagine my sheer bewilderment when they emailed me presumably to help me out with my laziness and procrastination:

Thanks, Facebook for the reminder that I've been wasting too much time Facebooking instead of blogging and posting my posts to my Facebook page. 

R.I.P. in 2014

Cue Taps.  Here's what I'm putting to rest in 2014.

1.  Reading top 10 lists for What Not to Buy in 2014.  Mainly because I have just purchased about five of the items on that list. 

• a new laptop with Windows 8,
• a new home phone,
• I just opened a credit card that issues store credit for purchases rather than cash back (and I was quite smug with myself after doing it),
• I still have cable (the horrors if Marketwatch could see the TV I'm running cable on) (and the VCR that sits on top of it).  Not pretty.
• a digital camera (shoot me now).

Ms. Day in the Life:  The 80's called and they want their technology back.

Oh, but on the upside, Ms. AnnaMaria Andriotis:  I have short legs!

2.  I'm putting to bed the notion that I am smarter than a sixth grader.  No, I do not know the difference between algae and protozoa and I'm sick of pretending that I might remember and be able to explain it if you give me a second to finish dinner (and sneak over to my laptop).

3.  R.I.P. my memory.  You are being laid to rest.  The upside - hubby can't remember jack either.  True story:  The other day he said to me, "Babe, my memory is like a bad woman."  To which I laughed out loud.  A few days later I said back to him, "I'm still laughing at when you said your memory was like a bad woman."  Hubby looked blankly at me and said, "I said that?"

4.  I'm putting feeling like I'm punishing the earth when I eat meat to bed.  Mostly because that guilt's been pretty well buried since about six months ago and also because yesterday our neighbor, who apparently knows how expensive it is to feed four growing children, gave us a ginormous box of meat.  Happy Carnivorous Guilt Free New Year to Me!

5.  R.I.P. to the notion that my house will stay clean even a few hours after our house cleaner has come over.  I swear to God when a kid in my house drops a gallon of milk on the floor right after the house cleaner has closed the front door an angel gets his wings.  I'm done caring.

6.  And along the lines of keeping the house clean - Rest in peace the notion of cleaning the tools used for cleaning.  WTF?  I'm burying cleaning the vacuum, dishwasher, tub, and washing machine.

7.  Decadent vacations sans children on deserted islands with huge cocktails.  Rest in peace me in a bikini in Isla de Mujeres.

8.  The idea that I'll learn more about wine...or anything about wine.  R.I.P. me as a sommelier in 2014.

9.  The idea that I'll learn more about photography.  I won't.  Not in 2014, not in 2015.  Not on a box.  Not with a fox.

10.  Lastly, R.I.P. teaching this dog to fetch.  Much has been debated during 2013 about whether a dog who cannot fetch is, in fact, a real dog.  Who has a dog that can't fetch???  Me.  That's who.

I'm also putting to bed the notion that I care even remotely about sports.  Except possibly when this happens:

Then I still will not be able to help myself.  Even in 2014.

Happy New Year.

Would you believe me if I told you it was Netflix's fault?

It's a good thing consistent blogging is not my real job.  And, let's not get into a discussion about:  What is my real job?

So, I've blogged like twice in the last month and a half?

Seriously.  I've considered shutting down my blog a lot during the past few months.  The problem is I cannot figure out how to transfer everything over to my 1991 Commodore without it completely blowing out the hard drive (kidding, but I do lack the technological skills and my laptop is almost that old).

So, here I am.

Netflix decided to release the third (?) season of Damages.  Freakin' finally (after I had completely forgotten what the f*ck happened in season one and two).  And then they released the third season of The Killing.  This is still sucking my time in a sickeningly enriching and enjoyable way.  Just last night I told hubby that when he dies I am totally stalking Holder.  Probably until I am jailed. 

And then Halloween happened somewhere in there.  Then after weeks of being smug about not getting sick like other (weaker) people and having a superior immune system - I got sick.  And, throughout all of this my Boy Child has had a teensy bit of an adjustment period...ahem...two months...ahem...to middle school.  I've had to navigate that complicated road between Helicopter Mom and Delinquent/Meth Mom.  That.  is.  time.  consuming.

What else?  Oh, yeah.  I have four kids and I painted my Yukon Cornelius yellow and threw up a taxi sign on top.

Cheesus.

Anyway.  I go to blog and here's what happens:

1.  Instead I clean out my 1044 emails because I am sick and tired of searching for that one email that is offering me a million dollars.  This takes about eight hours because I get distracted with wondering Do I want to improve my sex life?  And:  The fact that I have maybe 10 friends, so who are all these emails from?  Oh, yeah.  Some Russian chick wanting to be friends and that guy in South Africa who says we're related and needs my social security number (note to self:  I could totally have way more than 10 friends).

2.  I decide to make dinner (in which the smoke alarms signals it's ready).  True Story:  The five year old no longer responds at all when the smoke alarm goes off.  She asked me yesterday if it meant that I was cooking.  Thanks.

3.  I decide to clean the five year old's room (which has not been done since the last Saturday in August).  There are brand new clothes (summer clothes?) still in the bags (which my wonderful house cleaner has carefully hung on hangers in her closet).  Um, embarrassing.

4.  I decide to wash the Yukon.  During which time we find:  a half a sandwich (thank God it looked like peanut butter and jelly - which never really goes bad, right?), one apple (at least I think it was an apple?), numerous Craisins (seriously - a lot - I probably could have bagged them up and returned them to Costco - WTF?  - they cost too much to be wandering loose in the Yukon), seven paperclips (next time I'll just go to the Yukon when I need one), a jacket that's been missing since we went on summer vacation, and lots of homework papers.  Um, Boy Child?  Are those yours?

5.  I decide to change the calendar.  Which causes me to ponder the last month and think about how much I love Halloween and hate Christmas, which makes me sad, and guilty, and want to work on the family budget, which makes me sick, which makes me want to write down all the people I will give gifts to, which makes me shorten the list, which makes me really dread Christmas and wish Halloween could be twice, which makes me feel guilty, which makes me want chocolate, which makes me write chocolate down on the list, which makes me remember to update the calendars.

6.  I decide that instead of blogging what I really want to do is read all the blogs I love.  I get through one, laugh a lot, and then decide again to shut down my blog because I am not as good as all the people I love to read. 

7.  I download MayMyRun and MyFitnessPal (apparently "Pal" means Nazi-friend who chides your every bite).  After running for nearly all my life, I finally take the advice of a friend and download an app which virtually runs for me.  But, not quite.  I still have to get up and run.  Damn it.  I quickly became obsessed not with actually working out, but with knowing everything about my working out (mainly the fact that I am not working out).  How is this helpful?  Here's the app I want:  The one that works out and eats right for you while you are um, working and sleeping and catching up on Netflix?

8.  I look over at my enormous pile of prints and feel overwhelmed with guilt.  So, I actually work.  At what I get paid for.  Yeah.  Someone please give me a million dollars.  Wait.  Where's that email?

I'm no NOBLO MOFO (similar to NANOWRIMO, but you don't need to see a doctor for it).  And like the alcoholic I am taking it one day at a time.  I can only say I am sober blogging today. 

I've missed you blogosphere and I hope to see more of you soon.  Now, for the love of Pete, go do something useful!

What's the best time to call you? Millertime? (I'm guessing that's not the right answer?)

I haven't been posting in a while.  Here's mostly why:

1.  Boy child is now playing the alto sax.  When I first found out he was going to play this instrument I pictured him playing jazz while I sipped a smooth drink.  That hasn't happened so far.  It's more like a cacophony of sound that makes you want to stab yourself.  Everyday it happens for 20 minutes during which time I cannot do anything but sit down and breathe slowly.

2.  About three weeks ago Girl 3 threw a laptop through the front window.  There are three positive aspects of this story. 

• It was a toy laptop (that weighed probably more than the real laptops).
• Our windows are cheap, but double paned.  Only one pane shattered.  We still haven't fixed it because we are those ghetto neighbors.
• She was really aiming at her brother's head, not the window.  Wait.  How is that a positive?  I can't remember.

This brought all "summer fun" to a screeching halt and four short people were enlisted into the Mommy Hell Camp for the remainder of the summer.  Barking orders at them and consistently disciplining (consistently) really took it all out of me.  I really wanted us to go to family counseling after this incident or at least write a letter to Prudie.  Sadly, I don't believe in counseling and our insurance doesn't pay for counseling (I think) until a small animal dies and I remember hearing Prudie retired? 

So, I diagnosed us myself. 

Diagnosis?  We are crazy.

3.  I hurt myself.  It's an annoying kind of painfully painful pain (that's the scientific description) and so far (based on Google) I might have:

• A sprained or fractured lumbar
• A tumor in my back
• Kidney disease
• Sciatica
• Pregnancy
• Endemitriosis
• Scoliosis
• Kidney stones
• Osteoarthritis or
• Fibromyalgia

I might live a lot longer with this pain.  Or I might die.  Google doesn't seem to really be that specific.  I haven't exercised in about four weeks and I have so much fat and stress in my body that I feel like I might spontaneously combust at any moment.  On the upside if that happens, I may get the medical and psychiatric help I need.

4.  My kids started school.  This means I have spent the last two days filling out paperwork.

• What's the best time to call you?
• Have you read the discipline policy?
• Is your child allowed to access the internet at school?
• Where do you work?
• Do you understand that if his electronic device breaks at school it is not the school's fault?
• Have you had a criminal background check?
• What race are you?
• Do you want to volunteer?
• Do you want to sell a box of The World's Finest Chocolate?

Two days in and I already want them to drop out.

5.  Two of my favorite bloggers closed down their blogs.  They were both really great writers.  One of them was related to me, so naturally she was/is amazingly talented.  So, of course it made me sad.  But it also made me want to shut mine down and sent me into this crazy tailspin.  Some kind of weird funk came over me (not the stinky kind) and I just decided to quit and do something I'm good at. 

But, then I couldn't think of anything to do, so I just tried to remember that Laughter Is The Best Medicine and I (wasted some good time that I could have been effectively and consistently disciplining my children or telling the schools where I work) Googled some really funny shiz. 

Real people doing their thing. 

I love them and I laugh like it's the first time every time. 

And, thanks, you guys for writing such funny stuff too that always makes me laugh. 

And, happy Labor Day because this one post took me three days to write and now it's a holiday!

It's hard to grow up. But, I guess not as hard as having a raccoon dog in your backyard rather than just a plain raccoon?

Hello.  Remember me?  Ms. Day In The Life?

Normally I operate this blog and write about my mildly funny and mostly dysfunctional life.

Lately I've just been feeling nostalgic as summer slips quickly through my fingers.

So, this is going to be a post about nothin'.  (And thank you, auto correct, but I meant to say nothin.')

1.  I have not been busy posting, but I have been busy reading all of my favorite blogs.  I read this one today and it made me cry like a big 'ole baby.  It's almost as if the writer had been hanging out in my house this summer (in a totally non-creepy way).  And really I rarely cry so either I am pre-menopostal, or it's a really good post (I suspect the latter).

2.  This awesome lady who used to live in my neighborhood before she up and moved across the globe, has been back in our neighborhood for the whole month of July.  I like my blog, but not as much as I like having coffee, and dishing it up with her.  She's like the mac-n-cheese of friends (and I hope when she reads this she will know what a huge compliment that is) and it's been splendid having her here.

3.  Being with my four kids all summer day and night has..............not been without its challenges.  The fighting, teasing, arguing, and screaming has taken on new heights and most of the time I feel like this: 

Sometimes I'm the ref.  Sometimes I'm the boxer.

4.  My very good friend, and frequent blog visitor has moved to a different neighborhood.  Insert any one of a gazillion sad emoticons or possibly a cat crying because her best cat friend has moved.....and the cat is roller skating carrying a birthday cake........but, I digress. 

I knew this move was coming for a long time, but I'm not good at change (let's face it, I'm still trying to get rid of my 80's haircut and make-up).  The reality of her being gone faster than George and Weezie Jefferson (albeit just about 15 miles away, and I do own a car, and there is a Starbucks on the way - four or five in fact) is starting to sink in.  It does help tremendously that so far, like Joe Walsh, fame and fortune haven't changed her.  And she has already graciously let us crash her obnoxiously fabulous home and beautiful pool.  Mrs. JustAHausWeyef, this one is for you:

5.  Lastly, there is no time like summer in Texas to make you second guess not investing in cable television.  There.  is.  nothing.  on.

So, night before last we sat down as a family and watched Nova on PBS.  Well, I am *kinda* lying.  We sat down to watch America's Got "Some" Talent as a family, but this family friendly show had some lewd sex jokes on it, so we flipped channels and that's how we got to Nova on PBS.

And, I found out about raccoon dogs.

Not familiar with them either?  Well, don't worry.  Here's a photo for you:

photo credit:  www.factzoo.com.  If you just yelped, "CHEESUS!" and backed away from the screen, don't worry you are not alone.  Oh, and it's mildly disturbing that it kinda looks like they put this rac-dog on a fluffy bed to take this photo??? 

 

I might be feeling like time is spinning out of control what with losing my baby boy and one of my bestest friends, but at least I don't have raccoon dogs digging up my garbage?! 

So, thanks, PBS!  With quality programming like you, I can take the heat and I don't even miss cable!

I'd like to thank my mom and God...oh, wait....

Someone thinks I'm "interesting" y'all!  Wheeeeee! 

I'm arousing?  Excuse me while I take my clothes off and roll around in some Vaseline.  Wait, no I'm absorbing.  Like Bounty!

1.  Thank you Weezafish for this loverly award!  I love you and I think it's high time I told you that every time I type your name I am singing this in my head: 

Please go check her out, you guys because in addition to her ear-worm name, she has a delightful accent, a truly interesting background, and she moonlight writes for a bunch of people including a matchmaking place because she's sexy like that. 

2.  Five random facts about me (because it's all about me):

• I saw Barry Manilow in concert because I wanted to.
• I want to stab myself a little every time my boy child starts a story with, "Mom, y'know on Minecraft where......"
• My last Google search:  The Millionaire Matchmaker.  I tried to tie that into Weeza somehow, but I've clearly not had enough coffee.
• In my TV life, I have a thing for stabby, ex-addict detectives who are trying to make it right.
• I've never kept a plant alive for more than one week.  I've done considerably better with my children.

3.  I nominate these people for the Interesting Blog award (it was hard for me to pick partly because I read too many blogs than I should, and partly because many of the people I read have a $hit ton of awards):

• WHATIMEANT2SAY - add this to your shelf - yeah, you guys, she's pretty famous
• averageinsuburbia - so happy she came back to the blogosphere (she's pretty famous, too)
• And this gal who I just found and I think she's pretty interesting (and she's probably written a book or something, but maybe she'll put this award on her shelf, too)

My five questions for you three (here's where it gets confusing and hairy - try to pay attention):

• Have you ever had a hernia?
• Scorpion bite or brown recluse bite?
• Scorpion song or Justin Bieber song?
• If you could put two pop star singers together to make a hit record (that, frankly, just frightens everyone), who would it be?
• If you don't know the answers to any of the above, what do you know?

My answers to Weeza (CHEESUS - when does it end???  I just want this blog post to end???  If that's what you are saying, remember):

1.  When did you start Blogging and why?  I started blogging while nursing my third child.  Literally.  I needed something to do with my hands.

2. What treat or pamper could you just not do without?  A shower.  At least every other day.

3. Which tune would, without question, have you leaping to your feet and strutting to the dancefloor?

Um, yeah.  I don't dance.  But, this makes me chair dance a little (similar, but not the same as lap dance).

 

 

4.Imagine; You have an entire weekend free, nothing on your To Do List, millions in the bank and only yourself to please. What do you do?  Um.  Read blogs?

5. Where did you put your keys?!  Right next to hubby's so that we'll be able to find his quickly later.  (You're welcome.)

 

4.  Conditions and rules, you guys.  (Just pretend I'm giving you a new car, but you have to pay the taxes on it still, okay?  Only, you can't really drive this award, and it probably doesn't have that new car smell.)

• Claim your prize and display it on your shelf or if your shelf is too crowded, just put it in your closet and then when you are de-cluttering in a few years you can give it to Goodwill.  It will one day end up being someone's ashtray.  And, send me a thank you with five dollars.......oh, wait............that wasn't part of it?
• Tell us five tantalizing facts about yourself.
• Nominate three more unsuspecting yet well-deserving people.
• Ask them five questions.
• Tell them they won and give them the terms and conditions.  Ask them for ten dollars and send me five of those.

Whew!  Done.  It's just like they say, you guys.  Being famous is hard work.

 

How to Survive the Second to the Last Month of School

1.  Invest in a quality set of ear plugs.  These will be helpful for handling the increased decibel level of sibling rivalry, the incessant chatter from young children, the high decibel level of homework complaints, and the torturous wails of children who are being asked to perform a chore or necessary task.

2.  Buy a good quantity of matches to light a fire under your kids' arses.  Instead of becoming more proficient at something your kids have been doing for approximately 135 days (that is:  getting up, getting dressed, eating breakfast, getting their lunches together, brushing their teeth, combing their hair, and making it out to the bus in the nick of time), sometime during the second to the last month of school they will oddly regress to the stage of toddlerhood where everything must be repeated 8000 times and they move as if they have Aunt Jemima syrup running in their veins.

3.  Stock up on carbs, adult beverages, greasy and/or salty food, and chocolate and/or other sweets.  This is kind of a paradox because although you have approximately 30 days until someone might possibly have to see you in a bathing suit and way less than 30 days to actually go to a store and try on bathing suits (with bad lighting and pasty skin) and therefore you should really be trying everything to lose the 10 pounds of winter weight you have gained, the stress of the second to the last month of school is going to make you want to shovel in every morsel of not-good-for-you food that you can possibly get a hold of.

4.  Carefully launder and neatly pack away all of your kids' winter clothes items and launder all of the blankets and other linens that you are not going to need for six and a half months.  And then just pack them all away dirty and unorganized again after dragging them all back out because Mother Nature decides to leave you with just one more cold snap.

5.  Plan and pay for your summer vacation so that you can use the following threat against your kids each and every time they misbehave or act as if they are about to misbehave from now until your summer vacation:  IF YOU DON'T STOP DOING THAT (or IF YOU DO THAT ONE MORE TIME, or IF YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT DOING THAT) YOU ARE GOING TO STAY HOME ALONE WHILE WE ARE ALL ON THE WHITE SANDS BEACHES OF TAHITI.  (I use that only as an example.  If we were actually going to Tahiti on vacation this would be an alternate universe.)

6.  Begin to scope out every Vacation Bible School in the city so that you can register your kids for each and every one.  In this way your kids can be well-rounded Christians.  (I don't actually do that because once my kids attend the only VBS they have ever attended I am pretty sure that VBS puts out an APB on my kids along with their photos so that every other VBS in the city is on alert for them and is ready to put out the "full" sign should I come along with my application.)

7.  Begin to make a list of all the things that you are going to get done once school lets out for the summer.  Gradually cross things off the list because as reality sinks in they are way too difficult to achieve with kids in the home.  Add all those things to your current daily lists and stare at that until you become too overwhelmed to move.  Eat or drink some of the food or beverages referred to in #3.

8.  Spend a good eight hours painstakingly making a summer budget wherein you assess what your home needs in terms of a "face lift", research how much these items might cost, and who might do these repairs for you.  Then, patiently pay for the following things that break before you can even cash your quickly disappearing tax refund check:  the air conditioner, the water heater, the dog, the hair dryer, the printer, and the tub.

9.  Change your calendar to May even though it's still April.  (And if it was still on February - consider that a bonus.)  April is going to slide by in a blur of school events, end of year shenanigans, empty beer cans (that you can't really remember drinking), birthday parties (damn the August heat - or something -  that apparently led to 90% of my kids' friends being born in April), piles of work (some of it the result of March's procrastination), summer vacation planning, budgeting, and worthless attempts at fitness in order to fit into a bathing suit.  Most of the $hit that happens in April will not even make it on your calendar.  Trust me on this one.

10.  Remember - if all else fails, you can always homeschool next year!  (That almost always gets me into the right frame of mind to make it through the day!)

The more things change..........

Me:  What?  Annette Funicello died today, too?  And Margaret Thatcher?  They're dropping like flies.

Hubby:  Yeah.  I saw that.

Me:  I thought Annette was dead?

Hubby:  Yeah.  Me, too.

Time for a reblog......from my own blog.  And when I looked back in the files I saw that I had been awarded The Versatile Blogger Award.  Two years ago.  And I missed it. 

Someone thought I was worthy, and I MISSED it.  So, check out the lovely lady that awarded me.  I am sorry to be so thankless two years ago.  Please know that now - I thank you from the depths of my heart.  As per the award - please check out my sidebar for all the blogs I love (nearly all of them have shelves - or rooms - dedicated to their writing awards).  Until I need a shelf or a room, I have put my two awards on my sidebar for safe keeping.

The reblog.  Enjoy!

Let's hope unicorning pays well.

I'd like to come up with a normally scheduled and/or regular series of posts entitled "$hit My Family Does."  But, my track record for normality and regularity sucks. 

That said, remember the post about the evangelizers who left their bikes in our neighborhood and my kids theorized (because they're smart like that) how to most effectively steal them?
Well, this post is kinda like that.

$hit My Family Does (this will probably never happen again)

1.  Boy Child screws things up in hysterical ways.  Today at breakfast he said very seriously and poetically, "That which doesn't make us stronger, kills us."  My favorite quote according to my Facebook profile (which we know is like Wikipedia in its truthfulness) is Neitchze's, so I love this about as much as I love my kids.

2.  Hubby was explaining to Girl 2 what a baker's dozen was.  When he was done she said, "I always thought it was because the baker ate a dozen and then there was one left to share with someone else."  We *might* be related.

3.  We were driving the other day and we passed an area where new construction had started.  Boy Child commented, "Hmm. I wonder what they're building there, mom."  There was a construction company's sign up with the motto "Blank-blank Construction Company...Building the Future."  He quickly read the sign out loud and said, "That's a weird place for the future."  Lest you think he was joking when this happened:  The other day we drove by the same place and he said not even jokingly, "Look, mom.  They're getting pretty far on the future there."

4.  I don't really believe in anthropomorphism, but since I am probably going to have to send this *smart(ass)*puppy to private puppy school, he will heretofore be considered "family."  The puppy tries to strangle himself each and every time he is "chained up" outside.  Before you call PETA on me, he's only "chained" for short amounts of time (or he would die, apparently) and tomorrow the guy is coming to fix our invisible fence (as we explained to Girl 3, it's not really "invisible").  I can tie him up, quickly go inside to get a cup of coffee, walk right back outside to check on him and he's managed to make a cat's cradle with his rope. 

Photo credit:  Oxford Advanced Learner's Dictionary.

Cheesus.  And, people keep telling me he's smart. I guess I'm ecstatic he's not dumb?

5.  Lately we've been going to our favorite hang-out, Spicy Ginger, and ordering almost everything on the menu.  I am beginning to wonder what those lovely people think of us.  Are they frightened?  Is there talk in the back?  "OH MY GAWD.  HERE COMES THAT ENORMOUS MEXICAN FAMILY WHO EAT EVERYTHING ON THE MENU.  QUICK PUT OUT THE "CLOSED" SIGN."  When you manage to spend nearly $100.00 on a very reasonably priced restaurant, and the food you order could feed a small country and barely fits on the table it borders on embarrassing and it might be time to quit.

6.  This one *might* eventually be one for Prudie, but right now I'm just filing it here.  Girl 3 is addicted to chewing gum.  She hides it like an addict.  Although friends have suggested I allow it on a "supervised" basis, or I use it as a reward, hubby and I have adopted an AA approach in that we are not giving her anymore gum.  (We also helped her to admit she has a problem and make amends to the people she's hurt.)  We are pretty sure if she relapses it will not be a "I can just chew this one piece and I'll be fine," but that she will pick up where she left off and it will be more like, "WHERE ELSE CAN I HIDE THIS $HIT???  THE LID OF THE TOILET???"  Lest you think we are cookoo cra-cra, the *damages* so far include (but are not limited to):  the wood floor in the corner of her closet is permanently marked bright green and scented minty, the cup holder that's closest to her in the Yukon Cornelius is permanently sticky, her sheets are stained bright green, and there is a small piece of hair in the back of her head that still has not fully grown out.

7.  I have an irrational fear of wet dog, rain, mud smell in my house.  Usually that's easy to avoid because I live in Texas and it only rains about once every eight years here.  But, lately we've been having some cloudy weather.  The other night I let puppy out to strangle himself on the chain.  About one second after I brought him in the back door it started to POUR.  I thanked Jesus, Mary, and Joseph profusely that my timing had been so extraordinary.  At about the same time, Hubby was so excited with the rain (I guess he forgot what rain was) he threw open the front door in glee.  Yeah.  Puppy pretty much ran in the back door and immediately out the front.  He refused to come back in until he was soaking wet, stinky, and nice and muddy.

8.  Girl 3 has been a negotiator I think since she learned to talk.  She's stepped up her game as of late and I thought she'd get a little smarter with it.  But, no.  It still goes down something like this almost every time:

Girl 3:  I can't finish this supper.  Remember I don't like peas???  How about I take five more bites?

Me:  How about 10 more bites?

Girl 3:  NOOOOOOOO!  How about seven?

(There are just about 7 more bites of peas on her plate - which I have carefully calculated before entering into the negotiations.)

Me:  PERFECT!

This complete misunderstanding of the art of negotiation has made me wary of what her future holds, but also thankful that parenting in this regard has not become more difficult.  So, I have mixed feelings?  Let's hope unicorning pays well?

Lest you think after reading this that I am perfect and I don't do any ridiculous $hit, I took puppy out running wearing my headset and phone armband for the first time just the other day.  Let's just say the entanglement of earphones, choke chain, leash, and ponytail coupled with my complete lack of coordination and just how quickly it all went down was amazingly embarrassing.  I am so happy that I was home alone and that I ended up flat on my back with puppy joyfully licking my face in my own driveway or I most surely would have to find another home.

Why dinner with my family can be like the eye of a hurricane only without the rain.

I vowed to be a better blogger and just as soon as I did, I broke my vows.  Good thing I've done a teensy bit better with my marriage vows.

Here's the thing - I can't think of anything to write.  I have an enormous writer's block on my head.  And, I've been flirting with a migraine for two days.

I *might* have the beginnings of a migraine because spring break for all four of my kids is next week and they all have had spring fever since the middle of February (what???).  They've taken to saying school is almost over.  Frankly, I don't know what that means.

I think it means that their brains are already on vacation and when this happens monkey brain takes over.  And, monkey brain (as you should know if you've ever been to the zoo) causes the body to not  behave at all.

I have found these last few days that it takes tremendous effort to want to be in the same room with all the kids at once.  It's often felt like I think those reporters feel when they are broadcasting from the eye of the hurricane.  I imagine they feel like it's difficult to talk or think, it's dangerous, and at any moment everything might blow.

Sample of our "dinner conversation" (if you can call it that).  I suggested a family rule that we are all going to strive to keep:  No interrupting.  Why did I do that?  Because I am a glutton for punishment.  (I was interrupted about six times while making the rule.)

Girl 2:  I did the P.E. challenge thing today and I did 24 sit-ups.

Me:  Wow.  24?  That's...

Girl 1:  Not to be mean (which is what she now says instead of no offense because no offense "is in fact offensive") but, I doubt very much that you can do 24 sit-ups.

Me:  That's great!  Girl 1, stop being snotty.

Girl 2:  I CAN TO DO 24 SIT-UPS.

Girl 3:  I can do 24 sit-ups, too.

Girl 1 to Girl 3:  Ha!  Not to be mean, but I doubt you even know what a sit-up is.  Because you're four! 

Girl 3:  NOT TO BE MEAN, BUT I DO KNOW WHAT A SIT-UP IS AND I CAN DO 24 SIT-UPS!  In fact, I think I can do a million.

Girl 1:  Hahahahaha!  Not to be mean, but I know for fact that you can't even count to a million because you can't even count to TWELVE!

Girl 3 (in a high-pitched screamy voice):  YOU ARE A MEANIE PETE AND I DON'T LIKE YOU AND I AM NOT GOING TO BE YOUR FRIEND ANYMORE AFTER DINNER WHEN I AM DOING PUSH UPS!!!

Does this make you want to be with these people?  And furthermore, does this make any sense?

So, that's why I have a big writer's block that is painful and makes my head hurt.  And, also it might be dangerous and at any moment knock over this tiny bridge on which I am standing.

But, I did want to bring you this because it makes me laugh so hard every time I watch and I've already watched it about a million times because I have really needed a laugh (and not to be mean, but I can count to a million) .  Cheers!

The Naked Truth. (And yes, I know you never wanted to see me naked.)

So, I'm trying to be a better blogger.  What does this mean for you?  I have no idea.  (I'll probably be way more annoying?) 

But, I just finished reading an excellent post  over at one of my favorite bloggers' space and he said try to post everyday because your readers want to subscribe to something that is worthwhile.  So, please think I'm worthwhile?  (He may have also said something about groveling, too, but I'm not above that yet.)

I've also had the opportunity to read lots of posts lately where the blogger tells you a lot of things about himself/herself so that you can get to know him/her better.  At least I think that's why they are doing it.  Do you want to know me better?  Probably not, but here it goes anyway.

1.  I am a compulsive list maker.  Sometimes Often times I make lists to make the list.  Is that creepy?  Yes.  But, I can't stop doing it.  Yesterday I found this list in my jeans' pocket:

2.  Sometimes I go months without washing my jeans.

3.  I often ask and answer questions all by myself.  And by "often" I mean all the time.  Example:  This is the running dialogue in my head right now.

Is this post crazy?
Probably.
Do I care?
No.
Should I still publish it?
Yes. 
Why did you ask that question when you actually knew the answer before you even typed it?
I have no idea.

4.  I blame my kids and hubby for stuff I do at least daily.  Example:  When I've eaten 10 candies out of my kids' candy baskets after they've gone to bed and they find my wrappers in the trash the next morning I calmly say when they ask how the wrappers got in the trash, "Oh, how did those get in the trash?  That's weird.  I guess dad was craving chocolate last night."  My kids, "But, dad doesn't even like chocolate."  Me, "WELL, THAT'S WHAT MAKES IT WEIRD THEN, HUH???"

5.  So, is #4 basically lying?  Yes, it is.

6.  I hate talking on the phone.  Don't ever call me and tell me something remotely important that needs action because usually I am not even listening.  The washing machine that I am loading is making too much noise and I can't hear you.  (My close friends and most of my family know this about me so I don't consider it rude.)  (Sometimes I lie to myself.)

7.  I am mostly deaf.  In both ears.  Not really, but it's psychosomatic so that makes it true.

8.  I don't trust doctors.  Unless they are taking a baby out of my womb.  In that case I trust them more than hubby.

9.  I brush my teeth anytime I am upstairs in my bathroom.  Even if I brushed them earlier and I haven't eaten anything.

10.  I read a lot in the bathroom.  My kids *might* think I have bowel problems because they often pound on the door and scream, "ARE YOU DONE YET?  ARE YOU OKAY?  GAWD, MOM.  YOU'VE BEEN IN THERE FOR LIKE AN HOUR!"  Half the time I'm just sitting on the pot (the closed pot) reading my book and grunting occasionally at them.  I get my best reading done that way.

11.  I constantly curse at spell check.  Example (I just said this to spell check.):  No you, moron.  Cheesus H. Christ.  I typed, "hte" and you think I want to say "Hate???"  WTF?  You are a worse speller AND WRITER than I am???  How would that even make sense???  And this is supposed to be helpful???  I hate you.

I could go on and on.  Who knew?  Turns out I love talking about myself.  But, this is to make you guys happy, right?   

Now, tell me something incriminating about yourself (not on the phone - in the comments) to make me happy and then we'll be even.  Happy Tuesday!