Different Shades of Mommica

OHMommy had this idea first. I'm taking it to another level. I'm allowing you into my past to see private photos of me - some of which people have never seen before. What can I say? I'm a private person. Don't judge me. Just appreciate me - I'm like a diamond with many facets, or is that faucets? Anyhow, enjoy.

My 'shy look'...


My bookish days...

My first Halloween with my soon-to-be husband...


Oops! My husband caught me just as I had gotten ready for bed...


And finally - this is my natural color... and yes, they're real. Stop staring.

So, you see - this is the real me. I'm laying my true self out there for all of you to see. I hope you'll still love me just the same.

Happy 3rd Birthday, My Sweet Prince

Three years ago today, you, my sweet baby Prince, were born. One of mommy's wisest, best friends, Heidi (who you'll have to wait to meet again in Heaven someday), always told me that 'there was something so incredible, and sweet and tender about a relationship between a mom and her son.' I never believed her, as I was enjoying raising this dainty girly-girl you know as your sister, and I was having a hard time figuring out how I would ever potty train a boy or deal with the bugs and dirt and gross stuff. But, she.was.right. The moment you arrived, there was something so much more helpless or dependent about you - and fragile - not physically - but emotionally. It's hard to describe - but you needed me as your mommy more in a way I understood only in my heart. And suddenly I realized that Heidi was on to something. It was if my heart started melting all over yours, covering it with a lifetime of the most intense adoring for you, and I knew I'd eventually be powerless to your smile and hugs and kisses.

You, my beautiful son, are the most darling, brightest light to me. Your energy is boundless and your belly laughs are completely contagious. You draw people to you that make them say to me "he's my favorite of all the little boys I know." You are Passionate with a capital 'P'. You're affectionate and love to invade people's personal space so you can get right up to them and let them know you LIKE them! You have a fantastic singing voice and a natural bend toward music. You have a special fondness for anything lawn-tool-related and I can tell that you want to be just exactly like your Daddy.

You still put absolutely everything in your mouth and I'm pretty sure you always will. You sweet talk your way out of a serious conversation already and you just want to make people laugh. Your propensity for getting into mischief overwhelms me and your talent for disassembling anything wow's me. Your gag reflex is laughably sensitive. You can throw a tantrum like no other. You do this hilarious thing when you're being 'cute' where you partially close your eyes and mumble "sumasumasuma" with a grin on your face. You say your "R's" like "OWs" and I LOVE it. I cannot count for you all the hundreds of times people have been stopped in their tracks just to get a look at your seriously long eye lashes. You love coffee so much that you will go to great lengths to steal mine, and ask me daily just to smell it.

And I cannot describe how much or how deeply I love your sweet face and your huge heart. You, my Prince, are beyond special. Happy birthday, Love. -Mommy

Breakdown of a Breakdance

Recently, while in Ouray, Colorado (pronounced YOUR-ay, or your-AY), or as E calls it, "MYray", the little Princess gave us quite a show while we were enjoying the most amazing night, eating outside at this historic and a little haunted hotel we stayed at. If you don't know anything about Ouray, it's often called the Swiss Alps of America because it sits at nearly 8,000 ft. and is nestled amoung 14,000 peaks on every side. It's about 7 miles from Telluride as the crow flies (it's always a good day when I can use that phrase.) Anyhow, it's crazy beautiful in a rustic way and we fell madly in love with it and have made dreamy plans to run a very cool B&B there someday whilst our children are free to play outside on the street and ride their bikes through town unattended.

I digress. Back to the dance. So, we're sitting outside listening to the live entertainment (a guy playing guitar who, in all fairness, probably should have been playing in a nightclub circa 1978), and my E is really getting into the music. She's grooving with moves you've never seen before (anyone know the movie that came from?). She's rocking and swaying and her body is contorting into a funky, hip, sometimes awkward 4-year old dance party all on her own. She's breakin it down, and here's the proof that she gets her love of dance from her mommica and she's solid as gold, baby. (Post posting note: Also, apologies in advance for the very off numbering of steps. Not enough caffeine yet, apparently.)

Step 1: Sugary cocktail of choice. 'Nuf said.

Step 2. Give a little pose to begin. Confident. Strong.Step 3. Start moving with some arms. That's right. 1. 2. snap. 4.

Step 5. Do some Vogue-ing. With a smile.
Step 6. Get serious. Use props. Make sounds.

Step 7. Bring back the pointer fingers. They never fail.


Step 9. FOCUS! Get it on. Get 'cha GROOVE on, babay. Das right.Step 10. Rhythmic Clapping. Essential.
Step 11. Involve audience. Stir their emotions. Make them WANT to be a part of your thang.
Step 12. A little shout out to all the beautiful PE-ople!

Step 13. WO! Where'd she go? Ooh - some unesspected-NAss. I'm diggin. I'm diggin it.
Step 14. A final WOW-er
Step 15. And then she's done. Jus' like dat.

Wordless Wednesday

Green juice fu-man-choo

You Had Me At "Laundry"

Today while Mommica was super SUPER busy working back in my home office (and leaving my Princess to do as she chooses around the house), I came out to check on her and lo and behold, I just about had a heart attack. I still am reeling from what I saw. I mean, it was practically orgasmic (sorry all my good Christian readers, but IT'S TRUE!) I came out - suspecting that she was up to no good without my direct supervision, and I walk in to THIS...

And THIS:

I'm practically crying and laughing all at the same time right now. My precious 4-year old just went ahead and took it upon herself to FOLD THE LAUNDRY!!!!

Are you off the floor yet? I'm still there - typing here right next to the couch - on the rug - still in disbelief that my sassy, adorable and sassy (did I say that already?) little girl decided to do this on her own.

Best of all, she was ecstatic when I hauled over another 30-pound laundry basket full of "GOODIES!" for her! Oh thank you God.

The Princess: Graffiti Artist or Repeat Felony Offender? You Be The Judge.

We're having a bit of an "issue" (picture me making quote signs with my hands in the air) with The Princess and her artistic utterances. I'm indeed convinced this "issue" needs to be addressed legally, as I'm fairly certain that all of my property is or has been, at one point, destroyed by this little lady. She's 4.5 (read: SHE KNOWS BETTER ON SO MANY LEVELS IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY.) I am considering kicking her out letting the legal system determine the appropriate punitive action since nothing I do seems to help. Yes, I am litigious. I've begged my mother not to purchase any more writing utensils for her, I've had her clean it up herself, but alas - nothing curbs Princess's insatiable urge to artistically destroy.

I've stolen some explanatory sentencing documentation from a legal site about graffiti, so we can all be objective in this sentencing. But first, the evidence... (click photos to enlarge the type)











Graffiti is a crime Stringent penalties in the Crimes Act 1900 and in the Summary Offenses Act 1988 have been introduced to deal with graffiti crime (That's what I said). Under section 195 of the Crimes Act a person who maliciously destroys or damages property belonging to another is liable to a maximum penalty of imprisonment for 5 years. (That should be sufficient time for me to acquire the funds to purchase all new furniture for her to start over then.) If the destruction or damage is caused by means of fire or explosives (ahhh. so that's what's next), the maximum penalty is imprisonment for 10 years. (I know - you're thinking it's a bit harsh, but did you see those pictures??) In the Summary Offenses Act the penalties for graffiti offenses are:

• Section 9 - willfully marking, by means of chalk, paint or other material (crayons, pencils and my Monogrammed address stamper sufficiently qualify, no?), any premises, where the marking is within view from a public place unless the consent of the occupier or person in charge of the premises is first obtained.
  

Graffiti Removal:
You do not have to accept that once your property has been subject to graffiti it is there to stay. (I KNOW!) One of the more effective strategies against illegal graffiti is to remove it as quickly as possible and to persist in removing it. (Sounds like a FANTASTIC way to spend my days. I'LL give YOU an effective strategy....

Princess, looks like the writings' on the wall, little one...

I'm a BusyFan

This weekend, while all the hoopla occurred over at BlogHer in San Francisco, the Mommica family has been on vaca in San Diego, creating our own version of hoopla.

A few highlights to our trip thus far:

1. Princess's Dramamine wearing off 4 minutes shy of our destination, and Mommica running to the back of the minivan to catch all the regurgitated remnants of prior breakfasts, lunches, dinners and snacks for the last 2 weeks, all caught in precious pink blanket still sitting in garage downstairs.

2. Leaving the largest tip of my life after my little Prince knocked over not one, but three glasses of water in a restaurant - on 3 separate occasions.

3. The famous blogging Dream Team of ...
BusyDad and Fury paid Mommica and kin a visit on the beach! Husband is still melting in Phoenix until he awaits his turn to come out later this week, and BusyDad's dWife was at a trade show, so it was just us and the kids and our Roberto's taco's at the ocean.

Now, I know many of you will be all "ooohh - BusyDad! FURY! I'm so insanely jealous!" And, I'd have to say - mmm hmm. I know. We built sand castles luxury blogger resorts with rings of fire and seaweed slip-n-slides, we boogie boarded (OK well, we actually just watched as BD dragged Fury on a boogie board), we (I) laughed as The Prince made BusyDad his P.W.B. (personal water boy), whipping him with seaweed and shouting at him to "GO GET MORE!" water in the buckets until BD had walked about 5 miles back and forth to the water, with Prince in tow. I sat happily watching Fury wishing I could bite those squishy cheeks as he was teaching my kids how to dig a tunnel through our blogger resort. And I was overjoyed when my Prince treated BusyDad and Fury to a full-blown nuclear meltdown as we parted ways. (All photos to document the day will be featured on our semi-joint post featuring "The First Ever, Probably Could Become Annual BlogKids Convention" on BusyDad's digs shortly... stay tuned.)

So until the next annual BlogKids convention, hosted by yours truly, and BusyDad, I bid Jim and sweet Fury adieu... until we meet again.

Oh just another morning.

Well, yesterday, as I was sitting at the Eggery with a few other people enjoying a wheat bagel and coffee with John & Cindy McCain, I realized, I'm pretty cool. I mean, it's not everyday that one gets to chill for a meal with a presidential candidate - regardless of who you're for. I was supposed to be there as part of a special focus group my friend arranged (who works for his campaign.) Then, as a surprise to us all, IN pops the paparazzi (OK just the real press) and John and his size-zero wife (I'm so not kidding about that), and I'm all "uh wah?" I start panicking and primping my hair saying "DAM my haircutter for making my bangs so ugly short!" as I turn awkwardly around, twisting only the top half of my body to quickly greet them, as the bottom half of me is pinned between my chair and the breakfast table. I contort my arm to shake Cindy's hand, as I'm scoping her body for the lovely bedazzling jewels she owns. Then, I untwist and sit down to shuffle the papers they gave us to read on his positions, and all I can think of is "what if the paper takes a horrible picture of me and I look like I have 4 chins and a muffin top and one of my eyes looks lazy?" And then, as I'm supposed to be contributing intelligent conversation about alternative energy sources and the rescue of Indy Mac and such, my mind wanders to a scenario where a begrudged ex-campaign worker sneaks into the restaurant and shoots McCain and his innocent focus group attendees, and I can already see the headline (and the terribly unflattering picture of dead Mommica) on the front page... "Shooter Takes Down McCain and Next 'Mother Of The Year'Hopeful, with Hideous Bangs And All"

So once the press took off, and we had a nice discussion on the impact of the gas crisis, Mr. Presidential Candidate asked me if that was an engagement ring on my finger. (??? presumably to congratulate me?) (At this point in the story, Husband naturally raised his brow). "Oh John, no," I said, blushing at his observation. "I've become allergic to my antique wedding band, so I only wear my engagement ring right now, but I've been happily married for 9 years." He smiled and left and I thought, "how terribly thoughtful he is". And I also thought "cindy must be pissed."

It's Business Time.

In honor of my NINTH wedding anniversary tomorrow, ladies and gentlemen, I'm sending this looove letter and song out to my honey. So avert your eyes to the sappiness and squishy heart love if you can't handle it... ya, you know who you are! Just get outta here...

Bahz,

I know our 'business' time has changed a little since that fateful day 9 years ago when we said "I do" next to that beautiful creek in Sedona... I mean now we've got 2 kids to pin down to brush their teeth, and your toe nails to clip, and bills to pay, and Idol to watch. The list goes on. But I can assure you, when I see you comin' at me with your Breathe Right Strip on (ya, that's right) and your bite guard in to prevent your teeth from grinding, all I can think about is... "wow... that's MY man!" And I'm sure that over the years, you've come to appreciate my Thermal Fusion Enzyme Masque face and my toussled hair tied in a messy bun and my still-sexy-maternity-sweat-pants-that-are-too-comfortable-NOT-to-wear-
even-in-the-summer slinky outfits.

And according to our "Business Schedule", tonight it's "time" baby. So I throw this little love song out to you as a precursor, my love... to let you know that even though I'm always tired, I still think you're all that, and one hot husband - even more today than 9 years ago.

I love you Bab (pronounced Bob). Happy Business Time, Honey.

Random Thoughts.

1. I will officially NOT be boycotting American Idol since my honey David Cook won. I was completely ready to never watch it again if little Gomer Pyle Archuletta was victorious. Praise God. There is some semblance of sanity left in this world. Now moving on to "So You Think You Can Dance?" I know I can, so I can't wait to see these losers try and show me up tomorrow.

2. Can you tell my 4-year-old is a chef in the making (or that we watch too much Food Network)? Today, she and I were enjoying a mommy-daughter moment of mani's and pedi's on my bathroom floor in preparation for her "Moving Up" program at preschool tonight, when I started filing her nails with my nail file. I asked her to run and get the clippers and off she went, but not before saying, "Mommy, I'll go get the clippers and then I'll come RIGHT back so we can finish zesting my nails!"

The End.

The Sad, Sad Toilet - A Memoir

Hello dear readers. My name is Toilet. I've enjoyed a good life with Mommica, Husband, Princess and Prince. In fact, I remember the day Husband picked me out at Home Depot... I couldn't believe how lucky I was to be picked! I live in hall bathroom now, and while things are a bit more eventful at times now that the children are in the world, I'm quite happy. I'm used often and have witnessed some gruesome, and some lovely things in my short life.

The lovely things? Oh I remember Princess's first time on me. She called me the "big girl potty" - ah, the celebration, the tears. Prince's first crying when placed upon the "big boy potty" (he's not ready for me quite yet). Mommica's many nights sitting contentedly on my lid while we watched the kids bathe happily in the tub. The Prince hands splashing around in my water before Mommica comes and scolds him. Yes, I've seen some sweet times.

I've also seen some dark times. Times I don't wish to recall. And yet, something keeps bringing me back to that terrible place. In fact, I still have nightmares about it all when it happened the first time ... I was alone... disassembled like some two-bit appliance thrown in the yard where uncivilized animals go to the bathroom. No love. No TP. Husband had to unscrew every bolt, loosen every seal and pry me off the wall... taking me from my home, only to shove things up my pipes I had no idea could be shoved there. Yes, I was returned to my home, feeling cleansed and a bit free-er. But I cannot bear the thought of another cold, dark night when I'm ripped from all that I know and love about my life in hall bathroom.

You see, the Prince likes throw toys in water... all water - whether it's a mop bucket, the dog water bowl, or my beloved bowl. He callously laughes as he watches them go 'bye-bye' into the abyss that is my pipes. But he doesn't know the torment he puts me through. And as hard as I try to flush the toys and avoid the hell that's sure to follow, it's to no avail. He doesn't hear Husband swear like an emotionally-charged premenstrual woman who's just run out of chocolate ice cream, when he sees me overflowing from clogged pipes. The Prince just thinks its all fun and games.

And yet... here I am again. Brutally torn from my safety. My home in hall bathroom. Damn that doll shoe and bracelet that I could not pass. My only hope is that Husband will remember the good times we've had. The clean flushes. The quiet mornings reading together. Will I ever be allowed to return? Not if Prince can help it, I fear.

Dinner Conversation

Conversation with my 4-year old at dinner tonight:

(E): "Mommy and Daddy, do you know what a special day I'm going to have tomorrow?"
(M&D): "No, tell us!"
(E Waiving her arms, gesturing with both hands and using little mouth clicks while nodding her head as if saying "yep, yep I know exactly what I'm saying"): "WELL, I'm flying to California and I'm running late so I'm taking all my kids and (insert brother's name) and we're going to stay from the 17th to the 16th. And Kiki and Mary (dolls) are coming with us and Kiki is going to fall asleep on my lap and (as she pulls down the top of her tank top to expose her chest) she's going to drink my milk from my 'thing ' (pointing to her "nibble") and then her father is going to hold her."
(M&D): "Who's her father?"
(E): (flicking her pointer finger toward her brother) "That guy."
(M&D understandably grossed out): "oh."

Cute cuteness

Yep, I'm a little late in posting some of these Easter pics, but they're too cute, so here they are. Feel free to ridicule me for my tardiness.

Wo... trying to hold fuzzy bunny and drink... do NOT let go of that Mimosa...wo.. wo...

Again. Not letting go of the Mimosa.



"Uncle J, I'm about to throw up on you. Yes, yes indeed I threw up. What would an outing be without me throwing up on my nice clothes?"

"Oh little bitty bunny. You will be mine. I will love you. And kiss you. And squish you. And never let you go." (And then I'll hold you by your ears and drag you around until you scratch my eyes out trying to get away.)

"Oh, mommy I love this baby bunny so much that I will take him home and force him to be my baby doll slave bunny."

I Sty Something In My Eye and Other Funny Games

I believe I'm developing a massive sty in my eye. And truly, it's developing a life of its own. In fact, its likely going to be so large that it quite possibly will become my eye. How do I know this, you ask? Well, when I bend over to pick something up (read: every toy we own thrown all over the house) my eye feels like it has its own migraine. I'm thinking I'll look something like this tomorrow...
OR possibly more like this...


OK enough about my ugly eye-ness... I have a surprise for you! I have a Guest Blogger today! My SIL. Melissa. She rocks and I knew when I held her hair back while she was puking the first time I met her that we were meant to be SILs forever. Love her. Here she is... pay attention.

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Greetings!

So here we are enjoying the heat of Arizona as a welcome change from the cold of Colorado and my SIL tells me that I'm going to be her guest blogger today. Now don't get me wrong, I love reading her blog and even posting comments on occasion, but...I've never actually written a blog before. So, I've been pondering all day, 'what on earth am I going to write about?' So, I've decided to write about one of the things that makes me unique. I have 2 toes, that's it. Not like 2 toes on each foot, but 2 toes total. Technically, I have the 4th and 5th toes on my left foot, nothing on the right. To make a long story short, I had an "accident" that involved a blizzard, a creek, and spending the night at 10,000 feet in 10 degree weather with bare feet. That was May 20th, 2001.

I have always had a sense of humor about my feet, something I get from my dad (he's got a million jokes about "under toes, toe heads, etc." If I have an opportunity to set up a joke that involves my feet I'm all over it. For example, the time I was snorkeling with my husband and told some kids that the sharks got my toes. When my niece was little I would show her my feet and ask her where my toes were and help her look for them. I have to say, kids LOVE my feet (my nephew was just kissing and caressing them yesterday.) I teach elementary school and I've actually had students tell me that my feet are "cool".

Anyway, what's fun for me is that my son (and daughter) has never known me with more than 2 toes. That's just the way his mom is. He's 3 now and he just asked me for the first time where my other toes were. He hadn't realized before that most people had 10 like he does. I hope that on some level it will make my kids more accepting of people with differences. I'm also teaching them that it's okay to ask about something if you see it (ie. "what happened to your toes?") I would definitely rather have someone ask me about my toes than stare. I'm different and I'm proud of it!

Note the pedicure left over from Valentines.

I hope you've enjoyed your guest blog, thanks for listening.

Merci Beaucoup

My sweet blogger friend Angie from Keep Believing is passing along this bling because she said I make her smile. How great is that??? How amazing is it to have someone tell you that? I mean, the best feeling a person can have is when something makes them smile or laugh, so I am beyond honored with this award.

But, sometimes all I can do when I read her blog is cry. I mean - she is a wonderful writer and a very funny person, but she and her husband and two boys are dealing with a Herculean mountain to climb in their lives. One that is not deserved, nor pleasurable to climb. This mountain is a brain tumor inside her husband's head, and she and her family are taking a beating right now. But I'd like to share something with you...

I had the pleasure of hearing someone speak at a conference I was at this past weekend, and it opened my eyes. His name was Eric Weihenmayer and if you haven't heard of him, he's the only blind man to have climbed the "Seven Summits" which include the world's highest and deadliest mountain, Mt. Everest. His message was simple. The famous saying, "Seeing is Believing" has it all wrong. The truth is Believing Is Seeing. I say he's exactly right. This man has done what no other person in history has even attempted. And even after failure upon failure, his BELIEF is what propelled him through the agonizing pain, the beatings on the mountain, the doubters, the blood shed and the heartbreak, until it nearly killed him. But. He. Made it.

So I'd like to ask you all to KEEP BELIEVING too. Angie's husband received some not so great test results this past week, and they need uplifting. Big time. So instead of doing the usual passing along of this award to a deserving blogger in appreciation of receiving it, I'm going to give it back to her to keep. So visit her blog and send her some believing love. Because imagine your life with a mountain like this right in the middle of it. I'll ask you all this week to really Believe together that our God will heal this dear man and give this family a miracle.

As Angie always says... Keep Believing!

If We Were 3

Recently, while sitting down for a living room lunch picnic with my 3.11 year old, I watched as she twitched and rolled and did all kinds of acrobatics on the floor during our conversation. And I realized - it really didn't phase me. It's how 3 & 4 year olds act all the time. Then, I started envisioning what it would be like if we, as adults, were accepted as completely normal when participating in these antics as part of life as 30-something-year-olds. What if we felt the freedom to just kick our legs up and roll on the floor during a business meeting or at the grocery store? Wouldn't it be fun if it were perfectly normal to carry on a conversation looking something like.... this....

(Scene: Mommica cooking dinner. Husband enters room with glass of wine ready to hand Mommica after long day of Suicide Watch over the accident prone/everything-ingesting toddler...)

Husband: "Here you go, sweetie. How was your day?"
Mommica: (picking my nose up to my brains) "Oh fine, babe. You know... a little of this. A little of that."
Husband: "Oh? So what's for dinner?"
Mommica: "Hmmm... well (as I start to balance on one leg)... I dunno - what're you gonna make us?"
Husband" "Ha ha. Seriously. What healthy, delicious meal are you making me?"
Mommica: (doing a handstand with one leg swinging up in the air, looking at Husband upside down) "Umm... how about Coq au Vin? I'm really tired and want to get kids in bed early. Hey, how do you spell Coq au Vin?"
Husband: "Ummm... let's see - I think it's WXVVINILKSSC? Hey! Wanna see how high I can jump?"
Mommica: "Ya! Do it!"
Husband: (Jumps super duper high with both legs up and lands breathing loud and hard.)
Mommica: "Wow Husband. You jump SO high HA ha ha Ha ha HA HA ha haA ha." (my hands go on my hips and I sway back and forth like I'm 30.)
Husband: "Thanks. I practiced that all day. I'm looking forward to jumping even higher when the boss and his fam get here next week. I'm sure he'll be impressed."
Mommica: "Definitely." (Picking my nose again and pulling out a he-UGE boogie and holding it out to Husband on the tip of my finger.)
Husband: "Need a kleenex?"
Mommica: "Mmmhmm." (smiling, rolling around on the kitchen floor lifting legs in the air and kicking feet while putting my hands under my knees, seeing if I can make a fart sound, while the skirt's falling down exposing my undergarments.)
Husband: "Hey Babe, what's on my lunch schedule tomorrow?" (making an airplane noise as he reaches for his glass)
Mommica: "Ugh. I don't know - why do you always make me check your lunch calendar every day?? (I just fall down, because standing on 2 feet is sometimes harder than it looks.)
Husband: "PLEASE tell me who's Lunch Person tomorrow!!! PLEASE! Look at my calendar! (doing a potty dance)
Mommica: "Fine. (getting up from the floor after my fall, then hopping on every syllable) You're - taking - your - client - Julie - out - to - lunch."
Husband" "Yay!!! Hooray! (running down the hall at mock speed and hitting the wall as hard as he can.)
Mommica: (racing Husband down the hall, now screaming at the top of my lungs and then tripping, and running into him until we collide, bounce off each other, fall and both start crying.)
Husband: (rolls onto me laughing and saying in high voice "tickey tickey tickey" as he tickles my sides.)
Mommica: (Laughing, then screaming for him to stop, then laughing again.) "STOP!" "Now, let's get dinner started - let's go play the somersault game and then eat dinner."

Wouldn't that be fun? Ah... to be a careless 3 year old again...

Houston. We Have a Problem.

Mistake #7354: I sent him to the store. OK - he ASKS to go to the store. So, I hesitantly oblige, knowing it will add on another 15 minutes for me to prepare the list so it's fool-proof for him. People - I TRY my darndest to be as S-P-E-C-I-F-I-C as possible with the man when I'm writing the grocery list. I mean - I specify organic or not, pounds or quantity, firm or ripe, soft/squishy rolls vs. airy/crusty rolls, Belgian Endive vs. regular Endive, etc. I cannot TELL you how many times the man has gotten it wrong. And I mean ALL WRONG.

Today for example, I cleaned out my cupboards and noted a few spices and baking items we were due to replace. Vanilla Extract was one said replacement item. The husband came home with IMITATION Vanilla Extract. All to save... what? Maybe 50 cents? RI-diculous! I never even knew there WAS an imitation vanilla extract. I mean - it has NO vanilla in it! It is all corn syrupy and alcoholy and apparently there's "Vanillin" in it. What the criminy is Vanillin?

Or like when he got crumbled blue cheese instead of Gorgonzola (also today). I mean come on... there's no comparison. Doesn't he know that? Would he bring me home one of those fake Brie-Whiz triangles in the plastic tub vs. the REAL Brie? (Yes. Every time.)

Or when I specified exactly 1 pound of Red Swiss Chard for a recipe (yesterday.) He brought home 2 giant bunches. (Mommica) "I assume this weighs one pound, husband?" (Husband) "I dunno." "I didn't weigh it, I just grabbed and went." (no use in replaying the scene - basically, I'll sum it up with Mommica got veeerry upset.)

It can't all be blamed on his desire to save a few pennies - many days, it's his lack of label-reading acumen. In fact, he tends to not read labels at all, and when I say labels, I mean ENTIRE PACKAGES. So he's managed to come home with things like "Southwest Spiced" potatoes instead of regular, or - I shudder to remember - Fat Free Creamer instead of my regular just-paste-the-full-fat-on-my-thighs creamer.

However. Husband did manage to bring home 2 balloons for the kids. And another bottle of wine to add to our wine cellar collection in our new wine fridge. And hey. I didn't have to go. So I suppose I will just continue to stock-pile the "Mistakes" products and give them to our local homeless shelter, since they'll be utterly grateful for all those mess-ups.

Best Diet Advice I've Heard

I received this in an email today, so I can't take credit. I can, however, take credit for the wise-cracks in red. Eat up, people.

Diet Advice:

1. Q: I've heard that cardiovascular exercise can prolong life; is this true? (Does typing count as cardio exercise?)
A: Your heart is only good for so many beats, and that's it... don't waste them on exercise. Everything wears out eventually. Speeding up your heart will not make you live longer; that's like saying you can extend the life of your car by driving it faster. Want to live longer? Take a nap. Amen, sista! Now how the HECK am I going to do that with 2 ankle-biters?

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2. Q: Should I cut down on meat and eat more fruits and vegetables? Only if they're deep fried or covered in cheese.
A: You must grasp logistical efficiencies. What does a cow eat? Cow patties? Hay and corn. Oh. And what are these? Better with butter? Vegetables. Oh. So a steak is nothing more than an efficient mechanism of delivering vegetables to your system. Need grain? Eat chicken. Beef is also a good source of field grass (green leafy vegetable). And a pork chop can give you 100% of your recommended daily allowance of vegetable products. Mmm... vegetable products...

3. Q: Should I reduce my alcohol intake? WHAT?!?
A: No, not at all. OH thank you. Wine is made from fruit. Brandy is distilled wine, that means they take the water out of the fruity bit so you get even more of the goodness that way. Beer is also made out of grain. Bottoms up!

4. Q: How can I calculate my body/fat ratio? That's easy. I have none. Next.
A: Well, if you have a body and you have fat, your ratio is one to one. If you have two bodies, your ratio is two to one, etc. That works too.

5. Q: What are some of the advantages of participating in a regular exercise program? Free babysitting at the gym - as often as you want!
A: Can't think of a single one, sorry. My philosophy is: No Pain...Good!

Q: Aren't fried foods bad for you? Not if they're fruits and vegetables. See #2.
A: YOU'RE NOT LISTENING!!!.... Foods are fried these days in vegetable oil. In fact, they're permeated in it. How could getting more vegetables be bad for you? It couldn't!

Q: Will sit-ups help prevent me from getting a little soft around the middle? Nothin wrong with soft. What would my cat do if she couldn't knead my tummy?
A: Definitely not! When you exercise a muscle, it gets bigger. You should only be doing sit-ups if you want a bigger stomach. Allright then - done. Those are off my list.

Q: Is chocolate bad for me?
A: HAYLL No! Are you crazy? HELLO Cocoa beans! Another vegetable!!! It's the best feel-good food around!

Q: Is swimming good for your figure?
A: If swimming is good for your figure, explain whales to me. Ya. And all that blubber. Clearly it's actually fattening for you so stop it. now.

Q: Is getting in-shape important for my lifestyle?
A: Hey! 'Round' is a shape! And what about the post-baby/30's square butt? Square is certainly a shape.
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- Well, I hope this has cleared up any misconceptions you may have had about food and diets.
For those of you who watch what you eat as it goes from your plate to your mouth, here's the final word on nutrition and health. It's a relief to know the truth after all those conflicting nutritional studies.

1. The Japanese eat very little fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans. they're also much shorter, no?

2. The Mexicans eat a lot of fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans. =Deep frying is good for you.

3. The Chinese drink very little red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than
Americans. Well they probably beat their children then.

4. The Italians drink a lot of red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans. That's because of all that fruit.

5. The Germans drink a lot of beers and eat lots of sausages and fats and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans. Perhaps shoving some deep fried fruit (wine) into some intestinal lining really IS a good idea!

CONCLUSION
Eat and drink what you like. Speaking English is apparently what kills you. Oh great. Now I'm gonna have to practice up on my pig latin.

A Little Tumbleweed

Well, today was a 3-episode laundry day. What I mean is that it took 3 episodes of LOST for me to get through the entire pile of laundry folding. This is, you see, the only possible way I can do my duty of folding laundry. And I hate it normally. But I've discovered the key to loving it - it gives me the perfect excuse to watch my most beloved show, LOST. The problem, you see, is that I only have about 6 episodes left of last season and we have not joined the 21st century by getting TiVo, so I'm screwed. I have nothing left to watch after these next few weeks, and therefore, we'll just be buying new clothes and throwing away the dirty ones, because I don't do laundry otherwise. It's too much. It really is.

So, in anticipation of this fast-approaching day, I will be accepting gift cards from you all to Target, Old Navy, and Macy's, preferably in $100 increments, as my kids go through at least 2 outfits a day, sometimes 3, since the past 3 days, for example, I have stood in my front yard and hose-sprayed off blankets, sheets, pjs, etc. from 2 poop explosions and 2 puking incidents.

Also, in lieu of gift cards, I will gladly accept any new recommendations for TV series that I haven't seen and that would keep my interest enough to get through the monotonous chore of laundry.

Thank you. And goodnight.

Oh wait. I do have one more thing to leave you with... totally off-subject, however I don't care. As I was spring cleaning on my blogging vacation, I came across my trusty-and-definitely-dusty Jokes file from the 90's. Oh there are some gems in there that I'll share with you little by little, but I'll leave you with one from my favorite, SNL's Jack Handey, circa 1997. Enjoy. And send those gift cards.

Deep Thoughts... by Jack Handey
"Sometimes I just feel like curling up on the floor in front of the fireplace, and just rolling around the room, like a tumbleweed, and not even caring if I knock things over, or break them. And if people get mad, maybe because it's their house or something, you can just shake your head and go, "What happened?"

Busiest Week of My Life + Out of Town + Internet Probs = Blogging Vacation.

Well, I know you've been worried. Wondering and thinking the worst. No, I have not disappeared. I have not decided to quit blogging. I have been on a long-anticipated Blogging Vacation the past 2 weeks. I can't believe I haven't written in that long. In fact, don't send me hate mail, but I haven't even CHECKED people's blogs more than 2-3 times total (not per blog - just total) since I went on blogging vacation. I did actually leave town for 2 days at one point, but that's not the vacation I'm talking about. More of a mental vacation from all blogging-related 'stuff'... you know the 'stuff' - sometimes the pressure to be fabulous just builds up and you run out of post ideas and just need a break. I know there are those of you out there who can manage to be fabulous every single day - not me. I'm not that good.

So. My vacation. Yes, there was your typical vacation fare during this time of rest ... sight-seeing (aka spring cleaning out my plethora of storage closets for the first time since... well a long time.) This was the best part of my trip, actually. I saw things I've never seen before! And things I haven't seen in 10 years. Like a giant file box full of my high school and college photos with every different hair color I've had and every different boyfriend I've had (hint: future blog topic - oh it's precious, precious stuff).

I even organized the massive piles of Christmas wrapping paper (I have exactly 40 rolls of it and I am NOT exaggerating - count them.)

I also sorted and categorized my extensive gift bag collection - I even threw some away that were not worthy of the Re-Gift - that's a big step, my friends.
Now I know it seems as though they're not sorted, but they are - according to size, then category (baby, birthday, cute any occasion), etc.

And, like a good vacationer, I ate a LOT. Without exercising. I slept in one morning (until at least 8 a.m. - that's a BIG deal). I watched a few movies ... The Invasion, The Guardian, several LOST episodes from last season -- it's new to me. So overall, it was a productive, good blogging vacation, but now, particularly since the arrival of spring has suddenly turned my kids into hyperactive crazy people, I'm ready to block it all out again and blog, visit and comment. So, here I come... bursting with new ideas and inspirations, and ready to give some bloggy love again.

My Life In Pictures

Sassy little Tootsie Farklepants over at Vintage Thirty did this self-tagging meme a few weeks ago, inspired from Lulu's awesome blog and I thought it sounded fun, so I'm following suit... the rules are that you have to answer the questions with photos taken only from the first page of results online... *Note to self: Next time I think it will take mere minutes to search for the perfect photo any old picture online to do a post like this, THINK. AGAIN. Holy time-wasting blogging, Batman!

1. The age you will be on your next birthday. Yes, I would enjoy being IN Hawaii when I turn this age as well. We shall see...



2. A place you’d like to visit. And I'd like to be wearing a huge gorgeous winter coat with a waist tie belt, fabulous hat and scarf, with shoes from Bergdorf Goodman, and have my equally dapperly-dressed husband ice skate with me hand in hand, after getting down on one knee and asking me to marry him all over again and presenting me with a most precious bobble to adorn my wrist. Yep. That's all.


3. Your favorite place. Lived there. L.o.v.e. it.

4. Your favorite object. This isn't mine of course, but mine was my grandmother's and is special none the less...

5. Your favorite food.WITH

6. Your favorite animal. I cannot decide between these two cuties...

AND
Puzzling. I know. I like them for veeerry different reasons.

7. Your favorite color. They're delicious and nutritious too.

8. The city in which you were born. Anybody know this one?


9. The town in which you live. Occasionally it's a little warm here.

10. The name of your pet. I utilized my most excellent Photoshop skills to shield your tender eyes from the real image. But boy. I just don't know what to say about this one... I'm going to look at my dog in a whole new way from now on...

11. The first name of your love. hmmm.... not exactly what I had in mind...

how about try #2...
Yes. Yes, I'll take door #2. Thank you. Although, my real man is much better, of course.

12. Your nickname/screen name. I kid you not.

13. Your middle name. Alrighty then.

14. Your last name. I'm clearly really good at googling. I've even stumped the search engine on this question.


15. A bad habit of yours. Nope. It's not over eating, although sometimes I do wonder...

16. Your first job. No photo - just an article. And this is certainly NOT funny. And I pretty much kept my clothes on when I had that job.

Babysitter Leaves Children Alone In Woods To Pose For Nude Pictures

July 20, 2007

A 20-year-old Syracuse woman accused of leaving four young children in the wild so she could pose for nude photos is facing charges of endangering the welfare of a child. The authorities were alerted of situation by a man, who was apparently fishing at the nearby creek, saw them crying.

When officers reached the woods near Syracuse's Inner Harbor, the oldest girl, age 6, told them that "Aunt Michelle" went into the woods to take "nasty pictures."

17. Your dream job. It brings a smile to my face too.


18. Your current job. Drunkeness wasn't in my search terms at all, but hey - it works...


19. A picture you find hilarious. Perhaps not hilarious. Not even that funny. I just want a pair of these bad boys.


20. A picture that inspires you. If you don't know who this is, go here