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! 

Marathon training. It's hard work, y'all.

This post is dedicated to all the people who have supported me during the training period for my marathon.  I couldn't do it without y'all.

So, the marathon starts in two days.  Here's what I've been doing to train.

1.  Gradually increasing the time that I watch TV. 

2.  Staying up consistently past 10:00 p.m.

3.  Eating a variety of foods consistent with a 'marathon body,' i.e. popcorn, peanuts, ice cream, chocolate, Dagwood sandwiches, Doritos, etc.

4.  Watching the last few episodes of Season 1.  If you remember I learned the importance of this training technique when Season 2 of House of Cards came out and I'd forgotten all of Season 1 so I had to waste time watching Season 1 again and all of the people passed me for Season 2 and I probably came in last for viewing time.  So annoying and totally preventable.

5.  Finding comfortable positions on the couch in order to avoid marathon injury.  (Hubby:  We may need to buy a new couch in the next two days.)

6.  Buying the proper shoes and clothes.  The importance of shoes and clothes during a marathon cannot be discounted.  Here's some quick and super easy advice from a 'professional.'  Choose clothes that are comfortable, loose fitting (see #3) and that are easy to get off (see #7).  Choose shoes that are soft and easy to kick off (see #5).

7.  Practicing peeing in less than five seconds and researching catheters.  (Kidding!)

8.  Finding everything I can on the interwebs about characters so that I can fully understand what I'll be up against.

9.  Buddying up with like-minded friends so that I can have encouragement and solidarity along the way.  (Research shows that this is really important for marathons, y'all.)

10.  Lastly, preparing my family for the test of my endurance the lies ahead.

It's all about the training.  Are you with me?

House of Addiction

Step 1:  Admit you have a problem.

Hubby and I tore through season one of The Following on Netflix in record time.  Then we had a brief reprieve in which I think I worked and blogged and then season two of House of Cards came out and I've been on the campaign trail ever since.  It's exhausting.  We have one more episode to go and today I find myself digging out of a TV hole that's a few months thick. 

So, hello!

Remember when I told you I didn't care for Dexter too much and then I kind of changed my mind and then hubby tore through all 107 seasons and it ended and I was mildly sad?  Well, after season two of House of Cards I think I have it all sorted out.

Dexter (and actually The Following) were totally predictable.  We all knew (no spoiler alert - because really even if you haven't finished Dexter admit you know how it will end) that every single episode Dexter would find a way out, right?  He couldn't die because then the show would um....be over?  And what good would he be to his show if he were in jail?  So, it was kind of like a soap opera.  I missed or slept through quite a few scenes in a few episodes, but I was still able to keep up.  And I always knew how it would end. 

Same with The Following.  Once I figured out that Kevin Bacon was not Rob Lowe, I really didn't have much thinking to do.  Sure some people I had grown fond of die (again, admit you knew that would happen), but I'm still waiting for something totally unpredictable to happen.

Enter House of Cards.  I slept through a lot of season one and even told hubby I didn't like it much.  It was too political. 

Me to my former self, "Duh.  And:  You are stupid." 

Well, now I've decided it's really the only politics I care about.  Because of my irresponsibility during season one we had to watch the entire season again before watching season two so that I could refresh my memory and catch up to speed.  At first hubby admonished me but then he admitted he had forgotten entire scenes, too.

To any people under 30 reading my blog, "Old age sucks.  And sometimes it takes a lot of time.  Try to make a lot of money before you are old so that you will need less time to work because everything else (like watching TV) will take more time than it does now."

Here's why I love House of Cards. 

1.  Kevin Spacey.  That's acting.  Or is it?  Because sometimes I think he's just as heartless in real life as he is on TV.  Seriously.  He's on my list of People I Never Want to Meet.
2.  Robin Wright.  I have no short term (or long term) memory, so it took me all of season one to realize she was married to Sean Penn (which - why does he look like he's 110?).  If I cut my hair short in the next few months, I blame her.
3.  HOC is so compelling that I have been paranoid since starting season two/one.  Coupled with The Following and The Good Wife (which we watch on good 'ole regular TV), I'm sure our phones are tapped, my Facebook account is hacked, there are hidden cameras in my house, and the NSA is passing on relevant information about my dog to Homeland Security.
4.  I've finally learned what whip the votes means and I might be able to pass some sort of third grade government test.  Thank you, Netflix, for this edumacation.
5.  Remy Danton.

Easy.  On.  The.  Eyes.  Suit is optional.

6.  Excellent one liners.  There's even a website dedicated to the one-liners.  And it appears this website is sponsored by "Live Life By The Faith of Christ."  I say "appears" because I was scared to click the link (because my laptop is bugged).  Anyway - if The Faith of Christ sponsors the website dedicated to the one liners from HOC that is irony at its finest.
7.  It makes me miss Damages less.  Two shows about people without scruples.  The only difference I can see so far is that Damages had a few characters who were basically good. 

So, there you have it.  I've been busy and I'll be the first to admit - I probably need an intervention..

In the midst of all the TV politics we had a real life election.  I voted but it was kind of anti-climatic.  Many politicians' machines called me asking for my vote.  I hung up on all of them.  I'm waiting for Frank Underwood's office to call because, although I don't agree with Frank's psychotic politics, I can't wait to put this campaign bumper sticker on my car:

(in 2016.)

How To Be (Kind of) Productive On A Snow Day in 19 Steps.

1.  Set your alarm for your usual 5:30 a.m. because when you go to bed, although it is colder than a witch's nipple, there is still no sign of snow or ice.

2.  When the alarm rings at 5:30, turn it off because you are getting up.

3.  Spring out of bed one hour later when you wake back up and realize you are screwed if there is no ice and the kids actually have school.

4.  Turn on the TV to see if there is indeed school.

5.  Listen to the brilliant south Texas weathermen say things like, "Water freezes at 32 degrees," and "Black ice is the most dangerous kind."  Briefly think about stabbing them.

6.  After watching for a full 10 minutes (you could have been getting coffee) hear the newscaster say, "There are too many school closures to announce them all.  Please check your district website for updates."

7.  Wait another 10 minutes for your laptop to boot up and actually connect to the Internet because apparently everyone else is at home accessing the Internet.

8.  Find out your kids don't have school because there is an 1/8 of an inch of ice (not black) on one overpass in south Texas no where near your kids' school.

9.  Go back upstairs to brush your teeth so you can still be productive with four kids underfoot.

10.  Lay down in your bed for just five more minutes.

11.  Wake up another hour later and decide you still have time to be productive.

12.  Go downstairs to find you are out of coffee, eggs, and flour.

13.  Preheat your truck for 30 minutes so that you can go to the store to buy food for breakfast.

14.  Check your email to find that several friends also have a snow day.  Most of them actually have snow.

15.  Fool around on the interwebs.

16.  Decide you can still make it a productive day by getting to the store.

17.  Go shopping.

18.  Spend the rest of what is left of the morning making six people breakfast, eating like you've not eaten in days, cleaning up, and sweeping multiple times (because five of the six people go in and out repeatedly looking for "black ice").

19.  Look at the clock which says past noon.  Wonder when the troops will be hungry again.  Decide to spend the rest of the day surfing the net.  (Productively, of course.)

Here's to TV giving me something to blog about when I'm not watching TV.

So, probably my kids went back to school and wrote their proverbial "What I Did On Christmas Vacation" paper like this:

"Over Christmas vacation I stayed in my room and gamed while my mom sat glued to TV like a meth addict on........meth.  The end."

Forget the polar vortex, I was in my own personal TV vortex. 

And this vortex came right on the heels of the frenzy of Season 3 of The Killing.  It's no wonder I'm exhausted.  I think you all know how I feel about The Killing (if you don't - it could be expressed with the emoticon of a cat roller skating carrying a huge heart) and Joel Kinnaman AKA Stephen Holder.  (And if you don't - I'm marrying him when hubby dies.  ((Shhh.  Don't tell John.))  Meanwhile, I'm a stalker.)

So, how did the TV watching stack up?

First hubby had to finish all freaking seasons of Dexter.  Here's my deal with Dexter.  I don't really like it.  I liked it the first couple of shows and then I quit liking it.  I cannot stand Dexter's sister.  Or the detective that always wears the hat.  Or his girlfriend/wife Maria.  Or the other Rob Loweish/Keven Baconish (more on how interchangeable they are later) detective that slept with Dexter's sister.

I do, however, love Dexter.  I love his clever lines and his personality mirrors my own (except for the serial killer part).  So what's not to love?

Why do I watch if that's all I like?  Partly because it's like a train wreck for me and partly because hubby is addicted (although he'll deny it).  Season 4 is out and so we had to watch all of Seasons 2 and 3.  Must.  Keep.  Watching.

Downton Abbey.  I made a noble attempt (which reminded me of someone trying to save themselves from the Titanic) to watch Seasons 2 and 3 between December 26 and this past Sunday when the new season came out on PBS.  I didn't make it.

But, I couldn't keep myself from listening to David Bianculli's review of the first episode of Season 4 on NPR though so now I know some of the juiciness from Season 3 even though I'm still not done with it.  Damn NPR.  (No self control.  That's me.)  And, by the way, I want Bianculli's job.  Sit and watch TV all day (which is what I do now), and then get to discuss it, and get paid for it (which is what hubby wished happened)?  Is that legal???

There is nothing about Downton Abbey that I do not love.  I watched so much over vacation that I was addressing hubby as, "My Lord."  I can't say he hated it?

And, Downton Abbey makes me feel so refined and less sleazy about all the other crap I watch.  It's like a food cleanse after you've eaten 20 Big Macs.

The Following.  So, I kinda got addicted to this by accident.  As usual, I blame hubby who I think  happened on it after I'd succumbed to sleep around two o'clock in the morning after watching about eight episodes of Dexter.

I had no respect for Kevin Bacon after his sex tape scandal of the eighties.  Then hubby informed me that that was Rob Lowe.  (Both of them have that look shared by what'shisface on Dexter, apparently.)  But, I still can't erase the horrors of Sleepers from my mind every time I see Bacon on screen.  (I know that's legit.)

I don't recommend The Following if you are suspicious by nature because then I think you would end up committed - to a mental institution (not a good man).  And after about the fifth or was it the eighth? episode it's getting on my nerves.  Really?  Everyone is out to get Bacon?

I've had to put this show on hold though because while I've had my nose so far up Netflix' a$$, the spring season of MY REGULAR SHOWS came out.  Alas, I already missed one.  Sorry, Mr. Reese!

So, that's it friends. 

If it weren't for my TV life, I'd have no life at all.

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!

Why can't we just get along and make decisions that are healthy for everyone?

I'm on the tail end (pun intended) of a summer running injury after which I became a gluttonous, carb loading slug...............oh, aaaaaaaaaand I'm clearly driving myself crazy.

Me:  You should go run.  You feel a little better now and your back, butt, and sides have not hurt for a few days.  And as much as you say you hate to exercise and workout, you are a much more rationale, sane, and happy person when you do.

Me:  Yeah, but I could overdo it and injure myself and be down and out for another month if I go run.  And, there's the fact that it's still 130 degrees in South Texas.  Y'know?  There's that.

Me:  Well, then you should just walk.  Besides, the dog wants to walk.  You'll hardly break a sweat.  Go walk.

Me:  Yeah, but I'm tired and there's..........so much to do.

Me:  Your justifications are nuts.  You are going to Facebook and blog if you don't go.  Oh, and your obliques are HUGE.  Wait, where are your obliques?  Cheesus.  Where are they?

Me:  Shut-up.  I may have actually injured my oblique and that could have been causing all the pain.   So they could be just reacting to being hurt by.............gaining weight.  Y'know so they can feel more comfortable in this body that's gained weight?

Me:  See?  Your justifications are ca-razy.  YOU HAVE BRAND NEW RUNNING SHOES THAT COST MORE THAN A TRIP TO THE DOCTOR WITH X-RAYS.  GET UP AND GO RUN WALK.  You are never going to lose this weight you have gained if you don't get up and go out, you sloth.

Me:  I hate you.  I'm going to bed.

Me:  And then tomorrow you will wake up and your obliques will still be there and they will still not fit in your pants and you will hate me more.

Me:  Is there chocolate in the fridge?  Because I think there's chocolate in the fridge.

Me:  You are hopeless.  I quit.

Me:  Good because I'm tired and I am going to bed and I can't sleep if you are still talking.

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!

I'm not a detective. I only play one on TV.

I miss you guys, but I'm in the middle of a-ton-o-work and a serious addiction that looks like this:

Step 1:  Admit you have a problem.

My name is Ms. Day In The Life and I am addicted to The Killing. 

(Because it's an addiction, I will have to write a long post about it when I'm done with Season 2.  That's your warning and my apology.)

"When you accuse someone of having $hit on his shoes, make sure the source of the smell is not really you." Ms. Day in the Life

So, big news in the Day in the Life family.  We got a dog.  Yes, you read right.  The Leona Helmsley of Pet Haters got a dog over Christmas.  I have only 10 minutes to finish this post, so I won't go into a lot of detail.  I think a list would the most efficient way for me to vent catch you guys up.

1.  The puppy *could* be the reason I haven't blogged in days.

2.  I miss you all dearly and I promise to read all your hysterically funny and entertaining posts just as soon as I can leave puppy for more than 10 minutes without fearing I will have to clean pee or poop for the next 10 minutes.

3.  I don't like it when I go to my pediatricians office and I am referred to as "mom" by a 20 year old young thing who looks like Taylor Swift.  I kinda wanna throw up when I go to the veterinarian's office and I am referred to as "mom."  Mom of who, precisely?  In fact, I would rather listen to the Little People's video music on an endless loop until I poke my eyes out with sharp sticks.

4.  Am I that old?  When did #3 become a thing?  I cannot imagine people of my mother's era ever referring to dogs as the children of humans.  Is this a sign that I am super old?  Was Mrs. Miller Lassie's mom? 

5.  I have spent way too much time the past two weeks dwelling on #4.

6.  If there was a movie to be made of my life right now the title of that movie (undoubtedly a short) would be, "Waiting for the Dog Whisperer."

7.  It's hard to figure out this puppy.  He's a lot like a toddler but he doesn't even speak English some of the time and I never feel entirely comfortable cuddling him due to the fact that I don't like $hit on me.

8.  So that you fully understand #7 - I spent about an hour searching for the source of the $hit smell the other morning only to find puppy had gotten a teensy bit on my robe.  It was a simultaneously humbling and enraging moment.  Thank you, puppy.

9.  I have a million what ifs right now.  Here are just a few:  What if this dog can't learn to fetch?  What if this dog is never potty trained?  What if every time someone new comes into the house the dog pees on the floor?  What if we have to be like Richard Gere in Hachi and demonstrate how to fetch?  What if hubby actually does that?  What if this dog (that I kinda got in order for me to have a silent running partner) hates to run?  What if I make him do it anyway?  What if I really am heartless?  What if it is rainy and cold again for days on end and puppy still hates the rain and cold?  What if this drives me insane?

10.  So, I'm gonna end this by promising to be more faithful.  But, just know that some nasty Stomach Issues are running through our house (see how I did that?) and I really don't know which is more perplexing:  Trying to get children to vomit in the toilet and not on the floor or trying to figure out what a nine week old puppy wants.

I hope you guys are keeping all your resolutions while also keeping it real.  Happy third week of 2013!

Is Christmas early this year? Or, is it just me?

CHEEZUS, people.  Short list:

1.  Buy presents.

2.  Wrap them.

3.  Make consolidated list with which to buy presents.

4.  Do not get distracted.

5.  Work out in preparation for another eating binge to rival Thanksgiving 2012 dubbed "Eatageddon".

6.  Buy soon to be 11 year old (when did that happen?) presents for his birthday...in FIVE DAYS.  *hit.

7.  Find out what said soon to be 11 year old wants.

8.  Learn to count on a list.

7.  Do not get distracted.

8.  Make a list for making the list.

9.  Drink a beer...or possibly a shot would be better?  In the head?

10.  Look at the calendar and see exactly when Christmas is.

11.  Have a panic attack because there is no way all of this is going to get done and spend the rest of the day being distracted and overwhelmed.

Shoot me.  Now.

Hello, Blog. Remember me?

It's December as evidenced by a serious lack of posts.

Here is the short list.

1.  I hate Elf on a Shelf.  WTF?  My hatred for this creepy guy is about equal to the amount of crap that I have to see about what he's done.  I will say about him what I say about dogs who $hit on the floor, "Hot dog."  I am sorry if that doesn't make sense to you.  (It's 5:30 a.m.)

2.  It's 5:30 a.m.  And here I am blogging.  When I got up early to work.  Damn it.  I hate it when I do this.

3.  I have not started any Christmas shopping because in a rage and fit of anger I told the kids Christmas was cancelled (I think that was before Halloween).  Can Christmas be cancelled?

4.  I will be attending three Christmas parties in three days this weekend.  This makes me delighted in that I haven't felt this popular since one time in high school when my name was called over the loud speaker and it was said that I had won something (that was later explained as a mistake).  It also makes me feel like Christmas parties make the list right there with:  work, laundry, cleaning, cooking, and other things I am obliged to do.

6.  I can't count.

7.  I am considering just buying more storage boxes for our Christmas decorations for my Christmas presents.  This is just wrong on so many levels.

8.  I miss you guys and Pinterest as much as I miss no grey hair.

9.  Life has been incredibly not funny lately.  This is actually a good thing because it means all my kids (and hubby) are being fairly well behaved.  I am pleased that we all might be learning how to get along and a little disappointed that I really have nothing to say.

10.  I have no desire to eat sweets.  At this exact moment.  (Did I say it's just after 5:30 a.m.?)  I will ride this train until it stops.  Which judging from past experience should be around 8:00 p.m. tomorrow night when I will want more beer and a sandwich.  And maybe some chocolate cake after that.

11.  I still suck at wrapping presents.  Seriously?  I am The Worst Wrapper Ever.  People actually sent me videos last year on Facebook to help me.  It didn't help.  When do kids reach the age where I can just go, "There.  Here's your Target bag with your presents in it."  I am really like Santa in that way.  Doesn't he just put everything in a big black bag?  Or do all the creepy elves do the wrapping?  If it's the creepy elves, maybe I need some of those guys?

12.  Y'know how we don't have cable?  Well every year I wait for all the Christmas shows on regular T.V.  Yeah, I know.  Like who does that anymore?  ME.  Well, I think I missed Rudolph.  Damn it.  That's my FAVORITE.  Now I have to wait until next year.  Again, this is wrong on so many levels.

P.S.  (Because at 5:30 a.m. I cannot be expected to remember things well.)  13.  Yesterday hubby and I went to see a lawyer (not a divorce lawyer).  In the span of about an hour (because we were paying her by the hour and she gets paid $380 an hour so you know I was doing some serious clock watching) she told us she used to be an RN and she had an MBA.  Yowza.  And now she's a lawyer who makes $380 an hour?  I left feeling like a serious under achiever.  Oh, and she asked us to sign a contract.  Is it weird that I was confused?  "Um, I'm going to have to have my lawyer review this.  Oh, wait..."

That's all I got.  My kids are now up.  

Have a great weekend, guys and I hope I am back in the land of the blogging soon. 

How To Letter to Hubby on His Death Bed

This really happened at around 2:00 a.m. the other night.  (Hubby is an insomniac and comes to bed around 2:00 a.m. when I have been sleeping peacefully for about four hours.  He is Not Quiet so I wake up.  Usually I go right back to sleep.  Except when he wants to discuss philosophy, the history of the world, politics, or science with me.)

Hubby:  I learned something that I had previously had wrong today.

Me:  (This space is intentionally blank.)

Hubby:  I had always thought that the moon waxes and wanes the opposite of what it does in relation to low and high tide.

Me: 

Hubby:  Y'know?  I always thought that when the moon waxes it was low tide and when the moon wanes it was high tide.  But, really it's just the opposite.

Me:

Hubby:  Babe?  Did you know that?  Were you confused, too?

There's more.  Much more.  But, I won't put it in the post because I think you get the idea.  In case you are slow, let me lay it out for you. 

1.  I did not even know that the moon waxed and waned in relation to low and high tide.  I was on the "A" honor roll for I think my entire life, but I have a short-to-no-term memory.  So, although hubby claims I should have learned all this in school (elementary school), I don't remember any of it. 

2.  I like to sleep.  A lot.  Next to breathing, sleeping is my favorite thing to do.  When I fill out any kind of application and they ask for hobbies, I put "sleeping."  It follows that I do not like my sleep interrupted by things I do not know and do not care about (at 2:00 a.m.). 

3.  I think expecting me to have an intelligent conversation (involving science, politics, history, or philosophy) at any time is slim to none.  At 2:00 a.m., it's like getting Girl 3 to eat spinach.  As I am sure hubby will tell you - I know pitifully little about these subjects.  He often says to me - in *kind of* a condescending tone, "And you have a master's degree?"  So, really.  I just can't do it or I might throw up.

Fast forward to the following day.  We were outside eating breakfast and hubby had made this roaring fire.

Me:  This is a great fire. 

Hubby:  Thanks.

Me:  Someday I need to learn to make a fire like this.  But, with like flint and sticks like you did.  Not kerosene and a match.  Because someday I might not have kerosene.  Or a match. 

Hubby:  Mm-hmm.  You probably should learn that.

Me:  In fact, don't die because then I won't be able to have any fires like this.  And, by the way, how did you get that camp lantern to work again?

Hubby:  Oh, it just needed blah, blah, blah (when he speaks to me about stuff like that it sounds just like Charlie Brown's mom.....if she were also Chinese).  You just need to blah, blah, blah and then you can insert the blah, blah, blah into the blah.  It's pretty easy.

Me:  Well, don't die because I won't be able to get the lantern to work either.  Y'know there's so many things I won't be able to do if you die.  I think I'll take a pen and paper to the hospital when you are dying and I'll make a How To list really quick.  And then you can tell me everything I need to know before you die.  In fact, that's a good idea.  I probably need to start writing down all the sh*t I can't do and don't know now so I can be prepared to take the list to the hospital.

Hubby:  You could just do it now.

Me:  What?  The list?

Hubby:  No.  You could just learn to do all the stuff now.  Like before I die.  So, you'd know how?  And you'd know stuff? 

Me:  Like now?  I don't have time to learn all that stuff now!  I barely have time to make the list!  What are you, crazy?

We continued for a little while longer and then (after a lot of sighing at me) hubby got up abruptly to get more coffee (I think he even said something like, "I'm gonna need more coffee."  Rude!).

But, these two conversations shocked me into thinking I really don't know enough!  Hubby has been covering my a$$ in the political, historical, scientific, philosophical realm for far too long!  And I love my idea about the How To list.  So, I've decided to start my list.  Here's what I have so far:

How To Letter (or just How Letter or just Can You Please Tell Me This Sh*t Letter) to Hubby on His Death Bed

1.  How do you make a fire?  And a wheel?

2.  How do you put those little white flammable thingies into the camp lantern to make light?  Those white thingies make the light, right?

3.  How does the moon change in relation to the tide (because now, frankly, I am intrigued)?

4.  How does photosynthesis work again (that ones mostly for when Girl 3 asks because I am pretty sure last time it came up all the other kids explained it to me)?

5.  Who shot Lincoln again?  And why?

6.  Why are we here?

7.  Where do we have all the other money?  Like the money I can never spend?  There is other money, right?  RIGHT?

8.  Who was Genghis Khan again?

9.  What's a Libertarian exactly?

10.  How does the Yukon engine work and why do I need to know this?

I know it's not nearly as comprehensive as it needs to be, but I'll keep working on it and I figure when hubby's on his death bed ready to kick out it will give him a little something to hang on for.  Y'know? 

Because I need a platform.

In the spirit of bipartisanship (bi - what?  whatever.) and because I need your vote, I thought I would bring you a short list (I have real work to do, damn it) of what I'm promising in the next four years.

1.  I will somehow embarrass myself athletically most probably this will occur while running in my neighborhood.  (I can only hope the high school students who congregate at the bus stop will not be involved.)

2.  I will leave approximately 15 loads of laundry in the washer overnight thereby leaving my family to go commando.

3.  I will cook approximately 4000 meals for six people - two of which will be eaten with no complaints from anyone.

4.  I will balance the budget numerous times only to find:  the washing machine is broken, hubby has 27 crumpled up, torn, and stained gas receipts in his console, my kids' feet are bigger (all of them), someone has a birthday (damn them), Christmas is weeks away, or someone requires urgent medical care...at night...on a weekend...that falls on a holiday...in a leap year.

5.  Instead of wearing the outfit I bought directly off the store model, I will mistakenly think I have a sense of fashion and make a slight deviation.  This will result in me making a fashion faux paux that will haunt me for months to come.

6.  I will attempt cake pops and fail miserably.  Then I will do it again.  And maybe again.

7.  I will procrastinate on the internets until I have to stay up all night finishing work, or something I promised the kids, or making cake pops, or wrapping presents, or re-washing clothes.  (That might happen today.)

8.  I will have multiple hair-brained ideas of how I can make more money and of what I can be when I grow up.  I will tell these to hubby with my excited voice.  He will just stare at me.

9.  The kids (and hubby and I) will take turns having bad days so that we will have 1460 days of someone having a melt-down.

10.  I will spend approximately two full years preparing myself for about 47 times I will be seen in a bathing suit.

I'm committed!

Have a great weekend.

LOVE your hairdresser. But, don't let her get you pregnant.

I started today (my second day of having one extra hour - whatever) with nine things on my to-do list (to-do before 3:00 p.m. when the kids get off the bus and my life spontaneously combusts).  It is roughly 2:00 p.m. and I have accomplished five of them.  Since I promised to blog whenever it was convenient this month I decided to fore go working out and doing laundry and whatever else is on the list - and fulfill my promise to you guys.  You're welcome.

As you might know, after a long and sordid relationship with my last hair dresser - we broke up.  Or, I broke up with him and he might not know it yet.  Whichever, I am currently seeing someone else and I love her.

In our short relationship, here's what she's taught me.

1.  Even though my hair is as straight as a board, I can still benefit from straightening my hair.  This logic is kinda like the logic...oh, wait.  I am trying not to be political on the day before the elections.  So, just know that this logic is not logical.

2.  When you want to attempt that "straight from the hairdresser look" you can do a couple of things after you've had it cut, colored, and styled.  You can not wash your hair for as long as you can stand it, or until your kids start to comment rudely.  Or, you can wash it and try in vain to attain the look you had right before you washed it.  Or, you can just confess to your hairdresser that you don't have the foggiest idea how to style your hair and can she show you.  She showed me.  And she talked slowly.  I can style it better now.

3.  All women can have silky smooth hair that is soft to the touch.  Even old women like me.

4.  Wax isn't just for the bikini line anymore.

5.  And lastly, hubby freaked out a little when he saw these in the cupboard.

He calmed down a little when I said, "RELAX.  They're for my HAIR!"

NoGoEvNevWritMoinNo, Ho.

I *kinda* felt bad for dumping sh*t on y'all in my last post.  Just kidding!  That's what y'all are here for.  Right? 

But, oddly, right after I dumped on y'all - things started looking up!  Relatively.

So, in the spirit of patriotism (whatever), I decided to write a short list about it in the hopes that if I had depressed you - I would cheer you up!  And also someone told me to be thankful for the good in my life instead of complaining all the time (whatever).

1.  We are two days away from the greatest day of the year.

2.  Saturday night I built a fire.  Like a Girl Scout.  Or, like an Indian.  (If the Indians had girl friends and used kerosene.)  Hubby usually makes the fire (because he's the man and that's what men do), but he was gone so I decided I could make fire.  Y'know like Emily Davidson?  Girl power? 

Well, turns out fire and the wheel really were difficult things to invent and are really difficult to replicate.  Damn cave men. 

I phoned hubby at his important conference to ask him how to make fire.  Here's the short version of our conversation.

Me:  Hi, hubby.  I was just wondering - how do you make a fire?

Hubby:  Um.  I'm kinda busy right now, can this wait?

Me:  Well, not really because since it's finally cold, I invited the whole neighborhood over like you usually do to roast marshmallows and drink and I think they are kinda expecting a fire.

Hubby:  *Sigh*  Well, first you need a beer can.

Me:  Wait.  Is this a joke?

Hubby:  *Sigh*  No.  It's not a joke. 

Me:  So, the first step in making a fire is:  Drink a beer?

Hubby:  Yes. 

Me:  SA-Weet.  I shoulda' been in charge of the fires all along!

Well, since I suck at following directions I had to just basically slam a beer, pour kerosene on some wood, and light a match to get a fire started.  And then for good measure (and so hubby wouldn't know all my secrets), I threw the old beer can into the fire.  Note to self:  Beer cans do not burn.  Ever.  And even when they are seriously charred you can still read Miller Lite on them.  (Hubby knows my secret.)

When I did finally get the fire started (with some help), here's what it looked like:


Please note how even the skeletons in my closet yard photo bomb me.
 

3.  Honey Boo Boo endorsed President Obama.  Although this happened quite a while ago - while I was still in the dumps, in the past few days it's given me hope that when I decide what I am running for, Honey Boo Boo will endorse me as well.

4.  I got my 50th follower to my blog.  I kinda feel like I want to send her a small gift.  But, since that's stalkerish I decided just to tell you guys here.  She doesn't have a blog that I know of, or I'd send you over.  But, clearly she is of above average intelligence, a fabulous mom and woman, and has great taste.  So, thank you, TNMom.  Here's a small gift especially for you to express my sincere appreciation.

They're not just for Valentines anymore.

5.  In a moment of sheer motherhood genius, I scheduled all four of my kids' six month dental cleanings on Halloween.  What kind of insane idiot does this?  Me.  Apparently.  Thanks to my lack of calendaring skills six month's worth of dental fees will be ravaged by one night of candy gorging.  Wait.  Is this my happy list?  Oh.  Sorry.  I still am wandering to the dark side every now and again.

6.  On November 1 you can join millions of other people worldwide and write a novel in 30 days.  This is affectionately (I guess) called NaNoWriMo by the throngs of people who participate.

No, I am not doing this.  Although I admire the strength and fortitude (whatever) of these people, I do not want to encourage them.  I really cannot think of anything more ludicrous than writing a novel in 30 of the days before what is the most frantic, time-consuming, depressing season of the year when most everyone is gaining weight.  And, I cannot think of a crazier acronym.  (Except for maybe SWOT mom.)

Instead I've decided to commit myself to writing on my blog every day of November.  Except when I don't feel like it, or I am depressed, or I have other things that are more important that need doing, or my four year old needs her butt wiped. 

So, basically - I commit to bringing you what I've always brought you - but in NOVEMBER!  So, yay me!  (I feel less depressed already!)  And because I love to rival ridiculous acronyms, I am calling my writing challenge for myself:  NoGoEvNevWriMoinNo, Ho.
Not Going to Ever, Never Write More in November, Hoes!

That's my Happy List, friends.  Stay sane!  

Apparently Hell is freezing over square foot by square foot.

Y'all I am a cooking fiend lately.  I don't know what it is, but we are eating some good stuff over here.  Sadly, not much else is getting done. 

Today, for example, my day went like this:

Got up, made lunches, made breakfasts, got kids on the bus, dressed Girl 3 and got her ready for school, went for a run, showered (see my last blog post for the reasoning on that one), tried to drop Girl 3 off at school without losing my shirt or exposing my boobs - or lack thereof (again, see my last post for more on that), drove to be fingerprinted, got fingerprinted and photographed (said a silent prayer of thanksgiving that I had showered so as not to scare the F.B.I.), went to Target to buy Girl 3's birthday presents (that Target sucked), drove to another Target to get the rest of Girl 3's birthday presents and cursed myself (loudly) for having wasted time at the sucky Target (who knew sucky could be an adjective for Target?), drove home, ate some leftover Tortilla soup (more on that later in this post), answered the phone and it was my lady doctor's office (and by lady doctor I mean the doctor who tends to the lady parts).

Lady doctor's receptionist told me they had a cancellation so could I be there in about 45 minutes otherwise it would be another 20 years until my lady parts could be checked (apparently unless you're have a baby that is crowning from your lady parts, lady doctors eat lunch and go on vacation and such - damn them).  I scorched my throat by swallowing the rest of my soup in one gulp, told her I'd be there and then did a frantic little thing I like to call:  one load of laundry, one sweep of the kitchen for dirty dishes and such, one making of all the beds with one hand while the other hand brushes my teeth, one call to hubby to tell him to pick up Girl 3, one *accelerated* drive to drop-off a car seat for Girl 3, and one *accelerated* drive to the doctor.

I got home not having done a damn thing on my to-do list and it was time to get the big kids from the bus.  Damn my lady parts.

After dinner (more on that later) I quickly went to the pharmacy (again, damn the lady parts) and to get gas.  Hubby just called me Lazy because I always hook the little gas thingie so that I can hop back in my car and like balance the checkbook or something useful while the gas is pumping as opposed to standing there like a moron and holding the gas pump.  Well, today the hook didn't spring up when I heard a click and thought the gas had stopped (either it hadn't clicked, or something malfunctioned).  I pulled the nozzle out and gas spewed everyfreakingwhere.

I came home showered, washed my hair (two times in one day - that's got to be record), and put my jammies on (slowly realizing I never should have taken them off this morning).

Why am I telling you this?  Because here is what we have had for dinner, y'all!  NOTHING is getting done, and I am obviously turning into a babbling basket case, but we are eating like kings and I just wanted to show you.  Note:  hubby asked me last night if I was going to photograph the Tomato Pie.  I felt like royalty (but not the topless kind).

Here's my first attempt at Tortilla Soup (tortillas are indigenous to my people, Tortilla Soup is not).

Here's how I made it.  It seems (after all the soul searching and whining about being Hispanic and not knowing how to make the damn soup) fairly simple and forgiving to the point of you *might* not even need soup or tortillas to make it.

I boiled one chicken (I used a purportedly grass fed chicken as opposed to feces fed chicken) and used about half of the shredded meat from that chicken and six cups of the broth (about).  I then sauteed one yellow squash, about three cloves of garlic, and about half an onion.  To these veggies I added:  cumin, chili powder, salt, and pepper enough to make the mixture pretty reddish.  I brought the broth back to a boil and added the veggies.  Then I added some cooked whole baby carrots that I had, some frozen corn and some cut red potatoes that I had microwaved just a bit so they wouldn't be hard in the soup.  Then I added about two cups of shredded chicken and let the whole thing simmer for about 30 minutes.  Meanwhile, Girl 2 sliced up some corn tortillas we have been buying that have no preservatives.  She fried them in oil until they were crispy.

Y'all it was yummy.  We added sliced avocado, the fried tortillas, canned and fresh jalapenos, and cilantro to the finished product.  Hubby and I are not eating a lot of cheese, but I did grate some cheddar cheese that I had on hand for the kids.  Yes, the kids liked it.  Miracle?  Probably.

P.S. to that recipe - I am the only person in the history of persons to put the word "feces" into a recipe.  I think I need my own cookbook.

And, the second dish (sorry that this post is turning novelish) - Tomato Pie that I got from this lovely lady.  I love to travel and eat yummy food vicariously through her blog.  She has fabulous photos of...everything.  I used Leigh's exact recipe (to be found on her blog - click on recipes) and it is super delish.  Now, it did have the puff pastry which does have preservatives and it did have quite a bit of cheese which we are trying to cut out.  But, it was sooooooo worth it.  I used farmer's market tomatoes and the only thing I didn't quite get right was I was running short on time (imagine?) and I couldn't quite let them dry on the paper towels as long as I should have.

Wanna know the kicker with the Tomato Pie?  My girls claim to hate tomatoes.  Girl 1 loved the pie and Girl 2 ate it.  Girl 3 drank water (which has been her dinner for about a week now).  Ah, well.  Can't win 'em all.

That's my eats, readers.  What's cooking in your kitchen?  (And if you're just setting off the smoke alarm a lot, don't feel bad - that's mostly what I do.)

Are you there Blog? It's me Monica.

Here's a short list of why there have been no postings this week.

1.  The three year old finally has the hang of sleeping in.  So, I have gotten no wake-up call in the morning.  My days have started about an hour later, causing me to spend the entire day trying to catch up by one hour.  Yes, it can drive one crazy.

2.  Boy Child was warned at the beginning of the summer not to lose his:  goggles, swim shoes, regular shoes, swim shirt, or swim bag.  He managed to lose the goggles the first week, left one swim shoe at the river the last time we went, wore his regular shoes for swim shoes on our most recent trip to the river, and now they stink like river (go figure?), can't find his swim shirt, and managed to hold on to his swim bag (albeit empty) the entire time.  After some serious responsibility talks with him (or should I just say with me and myself since he obviously pays me no mind?), much of my week has been spent buying him new sh*t.

3.  The DayintheLife family has planned a summer vacation for 2012.  I procrastinated until summer was half over, but alas it's done.  We are officially vacationing.  The planning took approximately 5.8 hours.

4.  My actual work has been insanely busy this summer.  Most years people vacation during the summer and few people email me or call me.  Apparently this summer has been an exception to the rule because now everyone wants to just keep calling me.  Great for business, bad for my blog.

5.  I cleaned every cupboard in my kitchen.  Granted this has taken about 5 weeks total (so I suspect the cupboard I started with is now disgustingly sticky and disorganized again, but frankly I don't give a damn), but it is done!  Well, except for about three that I don't use too much.  Kidding!  I use them all the time, but they might not get done until next summer. 

6.  Girl 1 had a growth spurt since summer started (who does that???).  This required new clothes.  The kind that fit.  This required a trip to Old Navy and lots of trying on, and primping in front of the mirror (that's fairly new behavior), and seeing what she liked, and screaming at the three year old who kept opening the changing room door while she was naked, and generally just lots and lots of time.

7.  I've tried to organize a few things in my house.  This is painful and time consuming for me.  It's a little like that book If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.  I started one day by finally purchasing an organization method for hubby's business crap papers.  This quickly led to a look-see through the papers.  Which led to sticky notes to him of "Do you need this paper???"  Which led to a complete inventory of everything in the desk where said papers were being held.  Which led to me having a complete melt-down and drinking a beer at the kitchen table which was covered in papers.  You get the picture.

I could lie and say I am going to blog more faithfully  now, but it would be just that.  A lie. 

P.S. - I give complete credit to a good friend for the title of this post.  And, if that good friend is reading - wanna just write the title and post next time?  Please and thank you!

I'm getting back to you (you might want to write this on the calendar).

As you know, I have a habit of procrastination and leaving things in the lurch.  So, in the spirit of change (Huh?  What's that?) I thought I would bring you two updates.  Shocking, I know.

1.  The quick one first. The Keurig is indeed dead.  I will be calling customer service tomorrow when I have perfected the story I am going to tell them.  Not that it's not true.  Well kinda true.  Technically I guess it's a half truth.  And now I am hearing my dead mother's voice, "Half truth, half lie."  Thank you, Keurig for invoking my deceased mother to prove your point.  The situation in which I got the Keurig was kind of a backroom deal.  Of sorts.  Anyway.  I just needed a little time to decide what to say.  I'll keep you posted.  (And, you know how good I am about that.)

2.  Yes, the raccoons are still here.  They are low-key now.  I no longer go out to the Yukon Cornelius and find mounds of garbage strewn all over the yard.  It's more subtle (and, I like to think of them thinking of it as "discreet" and somewhat "friendly").  For example, yesterday I found simply a ripped Ziploc bag that had contained grapes that had gone bad right outside the garbage can.  The heavy, heavy rock was about six inches from the front of the can.  It looked as if all the grapes were still in the bag.  Apparently, raccoons don't like moldy grapes.  Sorry, raccoons.

I am seeing our relationship as more of a test now.  They are testing my fortitude and ability to consume everything in my fridge.  I am testing their brute strength and persistence.

Some of you (I think one person?  And, that person could be a figment of my imagination.) wondered if I had any photographic examples of what was happening.  So, I snapped this photo a while back just for you guys.

Notice how the rock is in place and there is still trash?  (That's when we realized the raccoons had moved on to the neighbor's trash can.  And then we put a rock on that one.)

2.  Remember when I re-did my girls' room like I was some kind of reject from Design on a Dime auditions?  I told you how miserable I was at decorating and crafting?  And I gave you teaser photos of what was to come?  Well, it's been done for ages now and I thought I'd give you a few photos of the finished product and a budget breakdown like the TV show.  But, then I lost all the receipts.  So, you are just getting photos and know that the complete re-do cost less than the two computers that hubby bought right after I was done. 

I realize that most people will look at these photos and think, "Meh."  But, know that I do not finish much anything.  In fact, this room might well be the only room in my house that is "finished."  And, it will probably stay this way until the girls move out.  Plus, I picked everything myself (so please don't tell me if you hate it or if it is totally uncoordinated).

The new bunk beds.  And the radiating light from the new ceiling fan.  Thank you, hubby.

The view from the top bunk.  See all of our new organization?  I am scared of heights, so you're welcome.

The new hanging thing to hang all the things.

The room from the door.  Really, really bad lighting and not-so-great camera. 

My kids are going to camp this coming week, so I'll be blogging everyday I am going to get some work done.  Have a great week!

IKR?

In case you are living under a rock somewhere, or you are just diametrically opposed to Pinterest, I pinned this GEM today and will also share it with you here.  I am confident that The Higher Power has an awesome sense of humor.

Some called it sacrilege.  I called it damn funny and absolutely true.