I clean up nice

That's what I've been told. I was in much need of a haircut and a new outfit. Just in time for my husband's company holiday party. This is the first year I've ever gone to one of Richard's work parties. At his prior job there were different reasons why I managed to get out of them. Most of the time the reasons were legitimate, but there's no secret that I'm not the social butterfly in all situations. I'm the anti-social butterfly. I don't feel the need to say things unless I really feel like saying them. I don't bother with the small talk. What's the point? I'm not uncomfortable by silence. I just don't feel the need to talk, just for the sake of talking. I know you don't care and either do I, so let's just skip it. To me, it's even worse when you don't know anyone at all and everyone there works with your husband.

I prefer to people watch and listen. I tend to observe and analyze everything around me, and when I really feel like talking, then I will. These people are his co-workers and I have a policy about co-workers and neighbors. You either work with them or you live next to them. They aren't friends. Friendly chat is one thing, but when you start acting like the drunken fool, talking about ex-husbands and how you need a raise, then I'm about ready to make like I'm friends with the wait staff.

Determined to please my husband and get out of the house I spent all of Friday getting my hair cut, buying make up, and finding an outfit. My husband actually came along with and by the end of the day I was sure he was about to divorce me. Men just DON'T get that you REALLY have to try on 12 pairs of pants before you find one that will do. It also takes just as many tries for a top, if not more. Shoes? Don't ask. I felt confident in going in something that was nice and comfortable. Never mind those strappy dresses in below zero weather. I don't like having nipplage at company shindigs. I found some sassy black pants, a gold satin shirt with a beaded bust & a sweater with faux fur. Richard said I "clean up nice". There was a photographer there and I'm hoping our pictures turn out good. I love taking the pictures, but hate having my picture taken; the pictures never do me justice.

The company party was at the fabulous Midwest Express center. (*picture from their website)The air was frigid and the ground looked like it was covered with a dirty gray slushie. The second I tried to gracefully shuffle through the dirty slush in my black leather boots I was thankful I wasn't the woman next to us in the spaghetti strap dress with barely there shoes.

I checked in my coat, we dropped off our canned goods, and Richard headed for the bar. Each person was given two tickets for drinks. Soda and water was hosted, but after the two tickets were gone, then drinks were five dollars. I rarely ever drink and when I do I'm at home or at homes of my close friends. I gave Richard my tickets and responsibly took on the role of designated driver. We dined in the ballroom which was as big as it was beautiful. Here is a link to check out pictures.

Women wore everything from gowns to slacks and sweaters. I was so glad to see a wide range, and especially glad I didn't go too dressy. Even though some women did have on gowns, there were very few and I'd rather not be one of 20 women in a gown while everyone else just has the standard Christmas party attire.

The lighting was dim and complimentary. There were tables with crisp white linen and white glowing candles. There were many food stations, with two tables of each. We started with the gigantic shrimp. And I do mean gigantic. I have never seen shrimp cocktail that large. Followed with the typical relish tray with raw vegetables, roasted asparagus, dips, fancy olives, and herb infused breads.

There was also scampi and chicken skewers. Then there was the potato sundae bar. They had martini glasses arranged and everyone chose between mashed red potatoes with skins or skinless yukon. We scooped potatoes into our martini glasses and built our "sundaes". There was ranch dressing, sour cream, chives, cheddar cheese, bacon, onions, black bean salsa, picante sytle salsa and other dressings. No party is complete without the pasta bar. This one had greek pasta and creamy pasta with peas and prosciutto, ceaser salad, and breads.

There was also a table with fresh fruit, quick breads, cookies, mini quiche and other goodies. We totally missed this table and by the time we realized it was there, we were both too stuffed to try anything. The main course was prime rib and pork loin with four cheese au gratin. Richard and I were laughing when we discovered we'd need a knife to cut through some of the still very hard potatoes. Nothing is ever perfect, everyone knows something has to go wrong at these things. Considering how much food was served, everything was fabulous and no expense spared. Except for the two drink limit of course.

The real star was the dessert table. I was in heaven and I'm not even that fond of sweets. They had MINI eclairs. Can we say cute and delicious? Caramel apple cake, carrot cake, pies, fudge tart, cheesecake with ganache, mini fruit tarts, mini chocolate raspberry tarts, mini cheeecake slices with dark chocolate, and everything else you can think of. None of this was substandard. We're talking decadent.

Entertainment consisted of a cover band and sports comedy. It was a great night full of fun and terrific food. I'm so glad I went with Richard and he finally got to go. The year before last he was a contractor and they aren't able to come to the parties. So this is the first year out of three years of employment with this company that he attended. Before we left Richard and I snuck off so he could have one last drink while we chatted privately. He told me how how glad he was that I came, how thankful he was that I was driving, and just how nicely I cleaned up. I took him home and took advantage of him.

I guess work parties can be fun after all.

Foto Friday

Look at that cute mouse! I can't believe I found this picture after all these years. I took that about 10 year ago. That's my oldest daughter, Snoo, at Halloween. She's 13 now, and only about 5 inches shorter than me.

Have a great weekend! Tonight I get to dress up and eat free food at Milwaukee's Midwest Express Center.

Yucky Snacks

"Mom, you don't have to give me yucky snacks anymore. I've got fruit roll-ups now."

Thanks his dad, my wee little son now thinks fruit roll-ups indeed count as fruit. My husband is a Sabatier when it comes to these sorts of things. I tell the kids they need to eat fresh fruit and whole grain cereals and he lets them have cereal that amounts to nothing more then crunchy balls of sugar.

Whereas, I send the child to school with apples and peanut butter or cheese cubes and grapes, Dad lets them have candy disguised as fruit leather. Or better yet, he let’s them eat Pop-Tarts for breakfast because nothing starts your day better than something less nutritional than pie and nothing ends it better than MICBSWS or Migraine Induced Cranky Butt Sugar Withdrawal Syndrome. I think the stores are selling tablets for these now. Look for them right next to the Sunny D juice boxes. So this morning LiL' J informs me that I've been fired from snack duty for the time being. Tsk Tsk. I’m known for being brutally honest so why should I expect my children to be any different? Don’t count on a small child to tell you that you look fine in that dress when really it appears that you’re about to give birth to two Billy goats long after your youngest child has gone off to college. With children, truth happens. Unless of course, you inquire as to which of them has been wiping their booger on the bathroom wall, incidentally located right next to the toilet paper holder.

Since LiL' J (5) is my son, so I suppose his bluntness should be of no surprise, but it still stings a bit. I’m sending that boy of to school with a Superman lunch pack with a built in cape, light saber spoons, and a monster truck ice pack. Nevertheless, I've been sending him to school with "yucky" snacks. My feelings are intact. I've toughened up long ago. I had to when becoming a mother. Otherwise I'd have an emotional earthquake every time one of my children-- whom I've given every thing and devote all my blood, sweat and tears for--screams I HATE YOU and YOU DON'T LOVE ME ANYMORE because I ask them to stop doing cannon balls onto the couch. In case one should think he's just an ungrateful brat, take another look HERE Isn't he cute? The poor kid is asking me ways to be less "hamsome" so the girls will stop chasing him at recess.

Some of Me

GrandPooOfAwesome of It's All Relative? has a great new look with my favorite color. I ran into her online awhile back and encouraged her to just keep writing because she likes to. She asked me to blogroll her which I did. Apparently she likes the show Grey's Anatomy as I do. In Greys Anatomy Dr. Burke tells Meredith that there's nothing she could reveal about herself that he wouldn't want to know. GrandPooOfAwesome reveals her own stuff and then asks, "what should I know about you"?

I'm in the spirit of giving these days so I'll share:

*I love history and geography. I watch the history channel all the time. I also love the National Geographic channel and I DVR shows from both every week. I actually play around at Sheppard Software, taking geography quizzes or seeing how many U.S capitals I can remember. My children want to know why I do this when I don't have to do "school" anymore. They think I'm nuts. It satisfys my need to absorb things. I love learning. I have to be stimulating my mind constantly. It's not always a good thing when I want to relax or spend time with people, because my mind is often wondering off and into an entire different direction. My husband is always telling me to choose. Either I'm reading my book or watching the movie with him. I can't do both. I certainly try to.

*I'm a very good multi-tasker.

*I love to read. I can't cope without reading. For me, reading is like a breath of fresh air while standing in a smoke filled room. If I find a really good book, chances are I'll totally lose all concept of time and reality happening around me. I lose track of time, I forget to eat, I ignore my house, and I snap out of it long enough to feed my family peanut butter and jelly for dinner. Actually peanut butter and jelly sandwiches have been a regular fixture in this house for longer than I'd care to admit.

*Which brings me to reveal that I really don't like to cook. It has taken me years to figure that out. I know that sounds ridiculous, how can a person be thirty-two and not know they're not fond of cooking. It's true. I love the idea of whipping up a variety of fabulous dishes. The evidence is in my closet. I collect cookbooks. I have a whole bookcase full of them. I have about twenty folders full of holiday meal recipes and every other kind of recipe that you can think of. I have torn out recipes from my favorite magazines for years, then placed them in clear plastic liners and put them into binders. I have binders for chocolate desserts, muffins, fruit dishes, pies, cakes, cookies, soups, stews, vegetarian meals, chicken, ethnic, kid-friendly dishes, Easter menus, Christmas menus, Thanksgiving menus, and everyhing in between. If it exists, I probably have a recipe for it. And most likely, I've never even tried to make it. What kind of person collects hundreds upon hundreds of recipes and never even tries to make any of them?

One suffering from mental illness that's who. It's my dirty little secret. I'm a recipe hoarde. I think I like the idea of cooking more then I like actually cooking. Or maybe I just hate the prep part. Come to think of it, once I'm cooking it's not so bad. When it comes to the choosing, shopping, washing, chopping, measuring, and all the mess made as a result of preparation, I end up exhausted and reaching for the take-out menu folder.

I love to bake though. Go figure. I make the most fabulous cookies, muffins, breads, cobblers, and pastries this side of europe.

*I'm into trivia. I always have been and it's not something I conscientiously work at. I just seem to remember useless facts that for some reason or another, I find interesting. At times, I will blurt out these useless facts to innocent bystanders. I think a by product of my love of reading is the tendency to gain knowledge most people find insignificant. I then feel I must share with other people.

Like, did you know that Einstein approved the mold that is used for the Toblerone chocolate bar? Or that coffee beans are really the seeds of the coffee cherry? Coffee came from Ethiophia, not South America like many people think.

Did you know that it took approximately 70 days to mummify a person? Or that the first Egyptian King's tomb made of stone was Djoser's Step Pyramid, built around 2680 B.C? It was the first true Pyramid, the smooth shape didn't come until the reign of King Sneferu.

Greenland is the world's largest Island. Despite its name, it's nearly completely covered in ice.

The leading producers of cobalt ore, uranium and zinc ore is Canada.

Mauna Kea in Hawaii is the world's highest mountain measured from the sea floor. The total height of Mauna Kea is 33, 481 ft, but only 13, 796 ft of the mountain can be seen above sea level. Of course Everest is the mountain we all think of as being the highest, followed by Mt. Kilimanjaro in Africa. But, Mauna Loa is the world's single largest mountain.

Costa Rica has no army, unless it was reestablished since I last learned about it. After their civil war the army was abolished in 1948.

Nollaig Shona Duit means Happy Chrsitmas in Irish.

None of that was probably information that is useful or new to all people. Nor do most people care to have someone randomly share useless facts that their brain spits out intermittently. I never just ramble these things at people, but if something remotely connected comes into the conversation, my mind retrieves the data and depending on how I'm talking to, I'll just let them have it.

*I love movies. Since I am a Chrisitan, being a movie lover can be complicated. I feel the need to be careful with my choices, but I do watch a lot of movies that many of my staunch evangelical peers will not. For a lot of Christians, even Veggie Tales is questionable. I won't sit and watch something that relies heavily on using the Lord's name in vain, is riddled with foul language or gratuitous s*x. But, I do watch R-rated movies. I am inexplicibly attracted to a good story. A story full of humanity and struggle. Stories full of love and loss. Hope and heart. Stories full of the darker realities of our world, our minds, our hearts. Stories full of humor and the lighter side of life. I dedicate movies to people. I have an endless list of movies that I reach for in times of depression, celebration, certain moods, seasons of the earth, and seasons of life.

* I didn't get my driver's license until I was twenty. I learned on a stick shift, but after I almost snuffed out an old lady crossing the street I decided an automatic was a better option for me. And the shorter and slower moving people of San Diego.

* By the time I was twenty I had three children.

* I hate coffee. Once when I was about six or seven and my mom was trying to apply for social security death benefits for my dad, a receptionist offered me a cup of coffee. She had a sly expression that said, "I can see you want some. I won't tell your mother." I went over to the coffee pot, poured the coffee into a little paper cup with a handle and drank it as is. It was the most disgusting thing I had ever tasted in my short life. And I had been forced to eat pond fish with beets!

Perhpas the woman was being kind. Or maybe she was just bored. I think I saw a look of amusement on her face. I do love the smell of good coffee though but I won't even try to have any unless it's an iced mocha frap from Starbucks. Or unless it involves alcohol. Does Irish coffee count?

*Hot cocoa is my hot drink of the moment. The more whipped cream the better. I'm also a huge tea drinker. I drink black and green tea daily. I'm also a recovering chai addict.

*I'm a perfectionist, yet my house rarely stays clean and organized longer then two days. Which makes me regularly go insane.

* I'm intensely private. Which is ironic because I share intimate details of my life with complete strangers, and I have no idea why. Even more ironically, I don't share my blog with most of family and only half of my friends. I am very private about my house. I don't like it when anyone uninvited stops by. I keep my blinds partly shut and I screen all my calls. I would prefer to have a huge distance between my house and my neighbors. Say, like three miles.

* I first tired alcohol when I was about fourteen and visiting my grandparents in Michigan. I was having trouble sleeping because of the three hour distance and I did what I saw everyone in my family do. I reached for something intoxicating. I snuck into some of my grandpa's scotch whiskey. After a few nights of bedtime shots my friend and I got stupid and tried to see who could drink it faster. After feeling like my head was in a hoola-hoop competition, and watching her throw up greasy hamburger chunks, I not only didn't drink again for ages, I haven't drank whiskey since. I also worried that I had killed enough brain cells to insure failure in highschool geometry. My grandma never made a big deal about it nor punished us. She just made us clean up that disgusting aftermath, which was punishment enough.

* I've been with my husband since I was fifteen. I've wanted to divorce him and re-marry him at least a dozen times. But, I've held in there every time.

* I keep my christmas tree up until after New Year's.

*Purple is my favorite color. Followed by pink and then black.

* I can't stand lying. I think God is testing my patience and unconditonal love since my second child has practically been a compulsive liar since she could speak.

* I loathe commericals. Most people do I'm sure. But I'd rather pause the TV (gotta love DVR) and wait until I can fast foward to the show. This drives my husband nuts.

* I like to look up the meaning of words and browse through the dictionary.

* When I was younger I wanted to be a f-14 pilot, teacher, nurse, photo journalist, and dancer among many other things. I ended up a mom.

*I have been known to be brutally honest. I'm also a great listener and rarely judge others.

* My worse quality would probably be my tendency to be snarky and sarcastic. Or my propensity towards procrastination.

* I'm terrible about sending out thank you cards. I'm thankful. I really am. I'm also thinking of you on your birthday. I just think my telepathic abilities have evolved further than they really have.

*I'm the queen of typos. I think I'm in the hall of fame now. My friends razz me all the time. They're just all forks.

* I'm obsessive about taking pictures. Family and friends put me in charge of taking pictures at gatherings because of this and usually by the end of the day I've made a few enemies. Curiously, some people don't like it when you keep walking about the room, randomly taking pictures of them, especially if they are drunk or bending over. Or both. I also have a very hard time throwing out pictures, even when they aren't good. It's a sickness.

*I think I might be vain. Even though I don't like to admit it. I love to swim. Love, love, love to swim. As a child growing up in San Diego I practically lived at the beach. I was a fish. Yet, I haven't been in a bathing suit in public for about six years or more. I have a hard time dealing with the fact that my body went from Barbie to Mrs. Potatohead. This is not a good thing since I have children who also love swim and want a mom around. Who else is going to survive the onslaughts of LOOK AT ME-LOOK AT WHAT I CAN DO-WATCH THIS every two minutes.

That's enough of me for now.

Why my kids laugh in church

Church Bulletin Bloopers

If you choose to heave during the Postlude, please do so quietly.

We are grateful for the help of those who cleaned up the grounds around the church building and the rector.

Newsletters are not being sent to absentees because of their weight.

Helpers are needed! Please sign up on the information sheep.

Diana and Don request your presents at their wedding.

Lent is that period for preparing for Holy Weed and Easter.

I bet many will be preparing for the holy weed this year.

Thanksgiving with Friend's

This year we did something different. We accepted an invitation from our close friends to have Thanksgiving at their house. Richard is godfather to both their girls and I consider Bill's wife, Heidi, to by one of my best friend's. We met them about 8 years ago when Richard was transferred here to Milwaukee for a company that Bill worked for. Bill was laid off from that company not long after but they've remained close friends. When Bill was laid off last year, Richard got him a job working in his department in the fortune 100 company that Richard works for in downtown Milwaukee.

I feel bad not going out to Michigan to be with my grandma during this first Thanksgiving without grandpa, but it was a nice change. We didn't have to pack, travel, shop, cook, clean and pay hundreds of dollars on gas.



A picture of her heirloom table. Heidi's mother made the curtains! Notice my white russian; a drink I've never had before and enjoyed quite a bit.





Heidi and her cousin put this display up. I love it. Heidi has such a way with decorating. This house was built about a year ago and it's gorgeous.



To the right of the ceiling here is a loft. Originally the floor plans included just a small hallway upstairs to the left of the great room but Bill asked the builders if they could extend the second floor a bit to include a loft. It's a perfect area for their 5 year old to watch her kid shows and play while her parents can still hear and see what's going on.



View from the loft above.




Their 5 year old inherited this 42 in TV when Bill got a new big screen TV. She also has a TV/DVD combo in her bedroom.



I just took a few pictures of their house as my camera stinks lately and the battery will never charge fully. She has the whole house decorated so perfectly. I have to get more pictures sometime. The green furniture was Heidi's when she was a girl. Bill and Heidi fought about this set as Bill hated it and thought it was ugly and Heidi thought it matched the purple walls and carpet nicely. Not to mention she wanted to avoid buying more furniture after spending more money then intended on the house.



The castle headboard came from LTD and matches a fairy bedding set they sell.



Here's the baby's room. I wish I got some more pictures, the whole room has an adorable butterfly theme. I of course love going in to this room. Again, the curtains were made by Heidi's mom. Note the frames on the dresser. She cracks me up with how many frames she has at any given time without pictures. The baby is 14 months and still there are no pictures in those frames. I gotta love a fellow procrastinater. I think it also has something to do with her perfectionism, something else I suffer from. If you can't do it perfect, don't do it at all. Blech. That hang up is exactly why I never get anything done!



Jake loves to play in the baby's ball pitt.



Snoo with a puppet. I have no idea why she was walking around with that thing. I just caught her in the act and threatened to send her to puppeteer school if she broke anything. (something she does quite often.)



J and Richard watching the game on the big TV.



Here's the star of Thanksgiving. It must really suck to have your crotch and insides stuffed with celery but I will be lying if I said the diners felt any guilt or remorse. They made two turkey's in a roaster and they came out very tender. She also made a ham.




Bill handling his meat. Those are HIS words, not mine.



Heidi is making some killer gravy. I personally don't like gravy, but everyone else said it was divine.



The dessert table. Is there really anything else more important? Fudgy chocolate pie, pumpkin pie, apple-cranberry pie, apple pie, fairy food, and cheesecake. If there wasn't good enough there was dessert wine and hot apple cider. The best part of all? I didn't have to cook any of it. Oh yeah.



You HAVE to click on these pictures for a larger view. Furry babies are a little piece of heaven.




Their Boston Terrier, Nika, gave birth to six puppies about two weeks ago. It was hard to leave them alone.



You know you want to hold him. You know you want one.



Please can I have one? Please can I take some home with me?

I hope everyone had a Happy Thanksgiving. We all had a great time and it was so relaxing this year. Well, for me at least, but maybe not for Heidi. Although, I think the two or three white russians helped out.

Child Labor is Underrated

Sorry about the quality of pictures. My camera is dying and decides to choke at its own will. Santa is bringing me a digital slr... I can dream, can't I? Here's a boy who knows how to vacuum. Mama is proud, mama is very proud.

I'm back

I'm alive. I've been feeling better and stronger every day now for about a week. I've been taking it easy and getting back to normal, little by little. I miss my journaling though. I miss my friends and readers. I miss reading my blogroll. I just didn't have it in me.

I kept getting hit with some nasty bug or virus, one after another. This whole house has been a danger zone. I'll get caught up, but for now I leave you with this.

Life without thankfulness is devoid of love and passion. Hope without thankfulness is lacking in fine perception. Faith without thankfulness lacks strength and fortitude. Every virtue divorced from thankfulness is maimed and limps along the spiritual road.~ John Henry Jowett

After the last few weeks, more then normal, I am thankful in all things.

I'm So Sick

I'm so sick. I'm not feeling very good either. Cough.

I've switched places with the sick husband and now I'm that big baby I usually mock. I thought I had gotten lucky. I had a little sore throat, I was more tired then usual but I got by. I was a steel magnolia. Then that familiar feeling in the back of my throat reappeared. It's just not fair. I have to get sick TWICE?

I can't breathe. I can't stop sneezing. I think there's dirt in my throat. I don't care about my hair. My nose is on fire and I have to take short, shallow breaths to keep from choking to death from a coughing spell.

I have no idea what is going on with the blog world, my blog buddies, my friends, family or the real world. I can't even hear properly so I think my family are talking about me. Perhaps about how bad my bed head looks?

Now the whole world knows, that I'm a BIG BABY, with bad hair.

No matter how ick I am, I can still leave a picture for foto friday. In case you need a smile or a reminder to always take time for fun, here's a good image to remember..

Happy Birthday Snoo

I can't believe that you are 13 already. The day you were born seems like so long ago, yet it doesn't seem real to me that you are 13 today. I know life hasn't always been that easy for you. I know life has been hard for you at times. Even in your short years.

You had trouble at birth and so many difficulties since then. You have come SO far, and you WILL go even further. Your journey has barely begun. Just remember that you are loved and no matter what, I'll always be right here for you. Be confident. Know that you have a spiritual force on your side and a family that loves you in spite of all, above all, and always and forever.

Happy Birthday Snoo!

Foto Friday

I took this shot at Fireman's Park in Richfield, Wisconsin.

I really love this picture. I can't wait to frame it. I look at this picture and his face; his expression, and I know he'll be forever young to me.

Mayday. Mayday

Help me! First off, I know I've been a bad bad girl. Not updating for two weeks! Oh. My. Good 'N Plenties, has it really been that long?

My grandma called me. She's planning on arriving at my house TOMORROW NIGHT. Yes, she just sprung that on me. Of course, I can't wait to see her, but it's not the best time for her to come out. Being broke for the week, having a laundry room sink clogged, and a house full of sick people, some that aren't feeling very well either, is posing a challenge for me.

OK, back to my long lack of posting. Shame on me. I know.

My absence really has nothing to do with the fact that I've been asked to be a driver and chaperone for every field trip Jake has had in the last two weeks. There have been 3.

It has nothing to do with the fact that Ms. Moochie turned 12 and I had to make a Mexican fiesta for her birthday dinner, clean the house, and pretend like I have the skill and time to be Martha Stewart.

I don't think it has anything to do with the fact that my computer seems to like disconnecting me from DSL lately, and when I try to rescan it decides to steal my neighbors wireless connection. Not only is it not legal, but his connection blows. Stinks. It's crap. My pc is making me VERY ANGRY, I tell you. MELISSA IS VERY ANGRY!

Maybe it is because I've actually been leaving my house to run errands and take beautiful fall pictures.

Or maybe it's homeschooling the 9th grader. Trying to get this kid to do his work has been a pain in the ass very interesting. He's a 15 year old version of a Halo 2 addicted Robin Williams intermingled with Jim Carrey with the skateboard urges of Tony Hawk. He said he's calling CPS on me, or the Marines, because he shouldn't have to do a Language Arts lesson that is 3-4 pages long. It took him 6 hours to get the lesson done one day, and I'm quite sure the publishers only had about 40 minutes in mind.

I don't think the fact I've felt a bit like eyeore lately could explain my absense either? I mean really, couldn't I just sign on to regurgitate news, post some silly quiz about which Charlies Angel I'd be, or ponder the meaning of life? Nah. I'm too lazy for that and I like you all too much.

Oh, maybe it's because we've been sick and my big baby of a husband sweet, strong as iron husband was laid out on his back for two days.

I don't think reading The Handmaid's Tale in two days and Rage Against the Veil: The Courageous Life and Death of an Islamic Dissident, in 4 days was a contributing factor either. Nor could my reading Song of Solomon and In the Eye of the Storm simutaniously, be getting in the way of my blogging either. I don't think at least?

Could it be, that since I've decided to really take this domestic engineer business seriously that such duties have encroached upon on my blogging prowess? I mean, I'm actually dusting, cleaning, organizing, cooking, polishing, scrubbing, and mending my days away. Well, most of my days. I think I've now proved to myself that there's a good reason why I despise all of those mundane tasks I'm supposed to be doing with a sense of loving service.

Can't I just get a maid?

I know what you're thinking. You don't agree that any of the above reasons could be a good excuse as to why I haven't updated all of you on my life and quirky thoughts. Shame on me for trying to convince you that they were. Right?

OK, here goes.

The real reason for my quietness was that I abducted my aliens. Yes, it's true. I went for a walk through the park, to take pictures of Wisconsin in Autumn glory. Then I was standing too close to the lake when all of a sudden a glowing light caught my eye. I was in a trance, when instantly I was sucked under water where the perfunctory prodding, poking, and probing took place. Don't worry, I won't be giving birth to a strange marine creature, they were gentlemanly enough.

However, I didn't care for that part as much as they would have liked me to. I think my dissatisfication was very obvious since I was gifted with pink diamonds, pearls, and a lovely mermaid suit, complete with mermaid flipper feet. They allowed me to choose a look with purple, green, blue, and pink scales. I looked rather dashing, I should say.

I had to go meet the leader of these aquatic mermaid like aliens. I had quite a bit of tripidation when mingling with these intelligent fish forms. After some time though, my inquisitiveness got the best of me and I began to befriend some of them. Once you get past the fish breath, it's not that hard to be friendly and make friends with their kind. They were having a monthly bash, complete with food, dancing, and corny pick up lines. After watching them do the mackerelena I felt it was time I asked why I was there and when I would get to go home.

Their message was quite simple really. All they want is for all the men of Wisconsin to stop wearing speedos to the lake. Apparently, the very sight of these men, especially the fat and hairy backed ones, are killing off the females of their kind. They either combust or turn lesbian. Pretty soon the men won't have enough females to carry on the species, or even worse, accompany them to the monthly mackerelena bash.

I thought it was a fair enough request, and since they treated me rather kindly I agreed.

Here's the message: Men of Wisconsin, please refrain from prancing around the lakes of south east Wisconsin in a speedo. When you see a speedo in the store, do NOT mistakenly think it's calling out your name from the shelves. It's a lie, do not be deceived. You will not look like a hot lifeguard. For all of our sakes, please just say no. Instead, board shorts will do nicely. And if you wouldn't mind, could you maybe consider waxing your back? Sometimes I've had to wonder if a little time spent in the sun before arriving wouldn't be nice.

Well folks, there you have it. I went through quite the ordeal, wouldn't you agree? But, I take my job as an ambassador for these aquatic aliens seriously. It's my duty to put an end to pasty, hairy, chubby men trying to pass off tight, ugly panties as swimsuits.

Hey, don't you believe me? It is so true. No, I haven't been watching too much TV lately!

It's Official, I'm a..

Homeschooling mom. Yep, you read that right. Melissa, the woman who loves to send her kids out of the house is now a homeschooling mom of a 9th grader.

Oh, dear God, what am I getting myself in to? I just sent off the form to the Wisconsin Department of Education. We're on our way through a journey that I never really thought I'd take. I've always liked the idea of homeschooling. I just was never up to the reality of it. I've contemplated it a few times, especially when my son was in 5th grade and begged me to.

J: Please mom, please! I have way too much homework, I can't do this.

Certainly a child's disdain for homework isn't a good reason to homeschool, right? We kept him in the private school that he attended from 4th grade through one month of 8th. Last year he tried public school for the first time since 3rd grade. It was a nightmare. The math that our school distract uses is obviously meant for extraterrestrials. J's vocabulary and reading abilities have been college level since 7th grade. However, he's always struggled with math, organization and study skills. He has ADHD and depression and he excels in some areas to the point of being advanced, and yet he remains almost remedial in math. I won't go into why he isn't in the private school anymore at this point, I just know that a traditional school isn't working for him.

He's bored, uninspired and frustrated.

My number one complaint is that he's not learning how to learn. He's not being taught how to take ownership over his own learning. This concept of spiral learning is bunk. Read, memorize, test, forget. That's about what it boils down to. Last night he took two candles from Mooch's birthday cake to experiment.

J: Mom, I've always wanted to know, why is it, that when I join two candles together the flame gets larger and larger. What is the scientific reasoning for that?

Me: Let's look it up tomorrow and then you can read about it as much as you want.

That's what I want to see. I want to see kids be able to really master a concept. To seek out the answers to their questions. Some of history's most renown scientists and inventors were homeschoolers and self taught learners. I don't know if this is something we'll do until graduation or not. I just know for now, he needs to get back to the basics in the areas that he's weak in, gain confidence, and discover that he's capable of learning how to learn. He can teach himself just as easily as any teacher at school.

So far, there have been frustrations. With his ADHD, he's sometimes very unmotivated and prone to distraction easily. He's also figuring out that I mean business. When I say something needs to be done, it had better get done. I don't care if he chooses to do math or language arts first, just so long as it gets done. Complaining, grumbling, and tantrums will not be allowed in my classroom!

I don't plan on turning my personal space into a homeschooling blog, but seeing as though I now am homeschooling one of my four kids, I guess I might as well out myself.

Here's J. He has this idea that many homeschoolers are dorks with their pants up to their nipples. He'd like to change that misconception and thinks of himself as the boy that's going to do it. So, this is the face of a high school aged homeschooler.



Wish me luck. God only knows I need some help. Miracles, patience and fairy dust accepted.

Hey, Stupid

Yes, you. Stop looking around idiot, it's you I'm talking to.

Mr. 72.240.138, your spending a work day searching for "wet perverts completely dumb" Really, please. You can do better then that.

You shouldn't even have a computer, dumbass. Go play with Mr. 195.93.21 who likes to look at "soiled pantie liners". Yum.

Hey there, Mr. 66.69.32, from New Braunfels, Texa, you didn't think you were going to get "off" so easily did you? No pun intended. You really want to see "pics of women's nipples poking through top"?

You want nipples? You really, really, really do? Have you been a good wittle boy? Here's your stinkin' Christmas card nipples dork. You like?

Mr. 201.14.129 from Santa Catarina, Brazil. Now, now, I haven't forgotten you. You were looking for "melissa the butterfly babe" Well you found her. Damn straight, and don't you other fools forget it.

Dumb perv, soiled panty boy and Mr. Nipples, stay outta' my blog or I'm eating your liver with fava beans. Slurp.

Do my boobs look big in this?

I took this shot at the Wisconsin State Fair.

This is not goat p*rn? Really, I'm not a pervert. I just had to take this shot though. Others were standing around gawking an amazement. Some people made some not so nice comments about the goat owner. All I could think was OUCH. Where are the milker people? There's something so wrong about this.



This is just another reason reincarnation can't be true. I'll be damned if I'm coming back as a dairy goat.

My 23rd Post

The intergalatic blogger, Jana of Going Places has tagged me. Not only does she have a very cool new look, she also has TWO kitchens! Here are the rules:

1. Go into your archive
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five other people to do the same.

I'm including my 23rd post before I transferred the archives from my other blog, so I'm sort of cheating, but here it is anyways, Happy Birthday Baby and here's the fifth sentence: "In your short years you will have already traveled further then I have and you're surely much braver then I."

I'm tagging Adri of Multi-Tasking: A Mom's Blog, Stacie of Mommy's Busy, Take a Number , So Lost of Lost in Wisconsin, Guppy of Guppyman's Rant Zone, Poo of It's All Relative?*

Pass the Potato

Humor me. Hold the gravy. Please, pass the potato.

Thanks for playing.

http://www.passthepotato.com/potato-1.php?potatoid=050929130720-37878

Can you guess?

Can you guess what Jake was trying to type? Be a peach and help a mom out. Richard took Jake (5) to work with him. Jake gets to sit at his own computer and "surf elmo dot com" or type his "business".

Richard sent me an email with Jake's "work" attached. At first it looks a bit like nothing but look closer. I was just going to go, aww, look he's trying to type letters, how cute. Then I realized he really did type something. Can you see it?

Now, don't go be a cheater and look at the comments. Can you figure it out? Now if you can figure out the first part please let me know, I still haven't cracked the code there. I'll ask him for hints later but of course, I don't want to hurt his feelings by not knowing what the whole thing says. What kind of mother would I be if I commented that his elephant picture was the best looking submarine I had ever seen? Not that I've done that either.

typefkofgkgijifrifur

lkfjdjdwejeje3wnfeeejfirkff

tnagmutinnigrtrtrzr

tenagmiutinmutintrtrz

Dare I say that's a wickedly good try for a new Kindergartener. Don't you think?

Unlikely Entertainment

LiL J's new favorite TV fix is The Weather Channel. Nevermind the Justice League or Little Bear. Somehow, while clicking through his animated options, he found TWC. Never teach your child how to use the remote. Don't even let them see you using it, because their minds are far more adept to mastering electronic devices and before you know it, they will have taken over.

Today he's been watching for a full twenty minutes. First it was fascinating to him that he could see all the states on screen with brightly colored borders and whirly-woos. You see, my five year old son is obsessed with geography lately. LiL J has never known a time when live TV couldn't be pasued or re-wound. This means we get to see the same thing over and over which is really a must for any human being under age seven. And a personal passion for any human being under age three.

"Look!! This is where we live mom! That's our weather happening above us."

He rewinds indefinitely if they show any action over Wisconsin, Minnesota, Texas, California and Michigan. Those are his favorite states and he knows where they are like the back of his hand.

It was very cute at first but after watching the same twenty second clip of 'possible' rain clouds going over Wisconsin, again and again, I'm ready to watch anything else, even Barney. Weather forecasters lie. Barney's just a bad singer.

Then he notices the Rita reports so he asks me if a hurricane is a tornado in the water. He's a genius.

When he sees the simulated image of Rita heading for Texas he gasps and his face shows panic.

"Mom!! That's Texas. They said the hurricane is going to Texas! Oh no, grandpa is doing to die!!"

"No honey, he's too far away from the hurricane. He's near Austin."

Still pausing TWC and pointing to the map, "where in Texas is Austin?"

After I explain the distance to him and calm his fears I realize he's NOT going to change the channel anytime soon. At five years old, he's totally into geography land weather and the only thing that will pry him away from TWC is a 100 piece puzzle of the United States which he insists I help him with. I then have to tell him what each one is and answer the same question every single time.

Do we know anyone there?

With three older children idling their engines in slackerville, I am overjoyed that he loves to learn new things and asks us about the world he lives in. Have you watched the weather channel for hours a day over and over though. It's not natural. I'd rather be picking dried play-doh out of the carpet. And truth be told, he asks big questions and big questions by little people are hard to answer . The answer only leads to more questions. So I am forced to employ The Husband's tried and true response to the evitable, "but why?"

Because the sky is blue. That's why.

The Weirdness of Me

I've decided I'd share some secrets of the weirdness that is Melissa. There's quite a few of them so I'll start with groups of fives. I know we all have our strange little rituals and habits but I really sometimes wonder it's the perfectionist in me or a little OCD. Or I'm just plain odd. Or all three.

Here goes:

1. I have to start reading my magazines from the back to front. OK, so I realize that's not too weird and I'm not alone in preferring reading from the back to front. Here's where it gets really weird though. I not only have to pull out all those little cards out of the magazine, I also have to TEAR out ALL pages with double sided ads before I will read it. I won't even attempt to read a magazine unless I've purged as many ads as possible without losing any of the content. So all pages with double sided ads have to go and I'll sit on the couch tearing out paper after paper, throwing them on the floor in a pile. Then when I'm done, I'll sigh with a feeling of accomplishment and anticipation, lay back and settle in for some reading. Oh, did I mention I have to go about this process without really looking at most of the content so I don't already see all the pictures and lose interest? This literally drives my husband INSANE. The kids have lots of collage material though.
2. I'm really anal about doing the laundry. Everything is almost always washed on cold regardless of what the label says and most shirts are inside out before going in to the washer. I don't just sort laundry according to darks, whites and colors, I have a whole range of shades. The following are washed with their own kinds: towels, sheets, blacks, dark charcoals and midnight blue, primary colors, whites, pastels and jeans. Then, ALMOST everything is hung up to dry on hangers. I rarely put anything into the dryer other then socks, knickers, jeans, bedding and MAYBE pajamas. Even then everything is put on low and is dried on a short cycle. I will hang everything else up, stretching the fabric if need be to avoid shrinkage, and place them on the curtain rod in the bathroom and on the line in the basement. This ANNOYS everyone a bit because they have to help hang up wet clothes instead of throwing them in the dryer. Plus when family members come they are afraid to touch the clothes for fear that I might freak out. I didn't inherit this habit from my mom. Nope. My own mother commits the most heiness laundry sin of all times. She washes ANY clothing she has, even DELICATE items with towels, sheets, sweats and jeans, ALL in the same load. The washer will be so packed it can barely spin. Whenever she has lived with me or been to visit I chase her around while sprinkling out holy water verbal instructions on how she should be washing her clothes. I got this extremely anal and tedious laundry ritual from my grandma and aunt who were raised in the south with clothes lines. Even if they had a dryer, you didn't use it unless there was a blizzard. Supposedly it kept the clothes looking nicer longer as well. I don't know if this is true but I just can't seem to change. When I do the wash I can see them, lining up the seams of a garmet just perfectly with the hanger. If I even try to throw a shirt into the dryer I can hear their admonisions. One advantage is that at least I don't have to fold and put clothes away. Once they're dry, everyone grabs their own clothing and right into the closet it goes.
3. I clean with paper towels. I can't stand having sponges around. They gross me out and I don't even want to touch them. I also almost always used rubber gloves. I'm teased by all my friends for this. I don't get it. What's so odd about that? Are they like actually TOUCHING the sponges, toilet, sinks, floors and everything else with their BARE hands? *Shudder* I know it's probably not the most environmentally friendly way of cleaning but I do go through a lot of paper towels. In the powder room I keep a paper towel holder for drying hands. I don't want to bother with four kids wiping God only knows what-bodily secretions? their hands onto towels and hoping they'll keep them neat on the rack. Same goes for their friends and guests. I walk around cleaning with my handy dandy notebook 409 bottle and a roll of paper towels. I can clean any surface and just pitch the dirty paper towels. No nasty, dry and shrivled up sponges for me, thank you very much. I give the sign of the cross at the very sight of a sponge. GET BACK YOU FILTHY CESSPOOL PILLOW!!
4. If I cook eggs I have to remove that white squiggly little thingy-ma-jigger I call an umbilical cord. It's creepy looking and I won't even be able to cook or use eggs without taking a fork or spoon and removing them first. If I order eggs out then I can put it out of my mind but if I see it there in the bowl before scrambling it has to come out. Richard makes fun of me and says it's retarded and there's no such thing as white umbilical cords in eggs. However, when his mom came to visit recently she said the same thing I said about them being umbilical cords and she wants them out of her eggs too. Ah, HA! Even Mooch can't make eggs now without taking it out first. My insanity is contagious. If someone makes me eggs I'll ask like 5 times, are you SURE you got the umbilical cord thing-ma-jigger out first?
5. I'm obsessed with vacuuming. I vacuum every day. Some rooms I'll even vacuum twice. I vaccum the baseboards, couch cushions and cobwebs. DAILY. I am still mourning the loss of my Phantom vacuum cleaner that was like the mac daddy cadillac of vacuums. About 3 years ago one of the kids, who will remain nameless, COUGH Snoo broke it by knocking it down over and over until the cord was severed. Then I killed the replacement vacuum 2 years ago when it wasn't able to keep up with my demands. Now I have a Bissell Cleanview 2. Its holding for now and it does an awesome job picking up cat hair yet I so have my eyes on a purple Dyson. Is it wrong to want to pay $500 for a vaccum cleaner? If you're busy and can do nothing else for your house, vaccum. It will ALWAYS made the room look cleaner then it is. It's like lipstick for a woman's face. If nothing else, put some lipstick on. Plus I actually love to vacuum, as sick as that is. It's therapeutic, watching everything get sucked up and disappear. I once had a neighbor that asked me to restrict my vacuuming before 9pm and wanted to know why in the world I vacuumed so often.

Come on now, you'll have to share your own peculiarities. I know I'm not the only one.

I Want a Dolores

Many years ago during a heated argument when The Husband and I didn't feel much like having maturity in our marriage, he shouted at me some nonsense like--I WANT A DOLORES.

Being quite annoyed and agitated as it was, I just looked at him confused and shouted back "WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? Stop acting like a donkey! See, what I have to put up with..... "

He tried to explain that was his "semi-cute" and non-threatening way of saying he wanted a divorce. That was a long time ago. He was a bit green behind the ears and must not have realized that "I want" and "Divorce" are not words typically received well. Ever.

He was never serious of course. Yes, it is rather immature, however, what really drove me buggy was wondering WHY he replaced divorce with Delores. How does that man's mind word sometimes, I just don't know. He still can't give me an explanation. As is often the case.

Being the brat that I am these days, I think I've decided how to end this little game. I don't even remember what "semi-cute" annoying thing Richard said to make me mad the other day.

I had had enough though and I blurted out, I want a DELORES!! AND SHE'D BETTER BE GOOD IN BED!!!!

Oops.

Heh. I think that settles it though.

Well, all except for his theory that my online friends are really my lesbians lovers.

If you currently disappointed at my twisted sense of humor. Don't worrry, God isn't finished with me yet.

Looking Backwards

I miss so many things right now. I miss opportunities missed. I miss the years that are gone. I miss simpler things. I miss the newness of life that a baby brings. I miss the ocean. I miss the mountains. I miss San Diego. I feel melancholy and a longing for a taste of the past. My oldest son is almost to the age I was when I met his father. At fifteen, he's only a few years away from being a "legal adult". All of a sudden I'm painfully aware of the fact that he's growing up at unstoppable speeds. I miss his little boy days. Lately, whenever I hear the song, Ocean Breathes Salty, it makes me sad. It's a rather sad song. It tugs at my heart and I don't even know why. It makes me look back at all the good and bad things I can't change. There's a million things I would have done differently in my life from the beginning until now and surely many of those things are in regards to my early days of mothering.

For some reason I connect that song to J lately and I feel a sense of sadness for the years gone by. I was so very young when I had him and not exactly in a good place at the time. I was young, in love, angry, hopeful, and foolishly naive. And like all parents, I did some of all the wrong things with the right intentions. Being a young mom and from a crazy upbringing, I felt like I had something to prove. I know at times I expected too much of him and I was too hard on myself. When you talk to your child on the phone, no matter at what age, they always sounds so small and adorable. And in the same way, I'd look back at different stages of his early years and I could see he was just a baby. When you're standing next to an almost grown child, any child under nine years old is a baby.

Those days are gone and like all moms, I would make some changes. But I look forward to the years to come with J and all the trials and triumphs we'll have as we watch him become a young man.

It doesn't make me miss those little boy smiles and that little boy sense of humor any less though. Your child's hug is one of the most beautiful things you can be given in this world. There's deep sense of communication and unspoken dialogue being exchanged and no one thing says I love you the most without using a single word. I'm fortunate that I can still get those hugs from J, but boy do I miss his little boy cuddles. I do know though, soon I will be wondering why I ever tried to run from one of his sweaty, puppy dog smelling embraces, as hugs will be few and far between.

I wish I didn't have this sense of emptiness about his growing up. I feel lately like I didn't get my fill of the little J because I was too busy with a big family right away and too concentrated on a special needs child.

I know my feelings can't be unique. What parent doesn't embrace the growing up years with excitement and some nostalgia. Yet, some of J's littlest years were met with parental depression, difficult circumstances, and even family separations. Things happenend to his little world that I couldn't control and even though it all worked out in the end and he was loved and adored, I am a mom. Therefore I have guilt.

I think if I had to examine why I think back on this so much lately is that LiL J reminds me so much of Big J. In many ways LiL' J is a lot like J was. They look so much alike. Their expressions and mannerisms are very similar. Their interests in toys, movies and games are almost identical. When I realized what LiL' J's name meant I couldn't help but find it a tad ironic. LiL J's name means "holder of the heel","he who replaces", "representive" and "supplanter".

LiL' J does indeed at times feel like a representation of J and I feel this great privilege to be the mother of these boys. They are not the same boys and I am glad for that. Even so, sometimes when I see LiL' J I will literally be transported to a memory of J at the exact same age. I will look at LiL J's hands as he holds a crayon and it's like looking back into time when his older brother sat and colored masterpieces for me. I can still see his pensive expression and chubby little fingers firmly clutching the fat crayons as his tongue hangs out partially. Every squint of the eye when they talk is the same. I can remember J's facial expressions when he spoke or was spoken to and the way he moved his hands. It's a moving image in my mind met with a living model. Now, LiL J is almost an exact copy. When someone cries, J will walk over and wipe their tears and hug them. When J was this age and someone cried, he'd do the same thing. If someone fought J used to walk over to them and make them hold hands. Or he'd put their heads together to kiss. It's deja vu everyday around here lately.

Maybe I'm just weird, but certains songs have a way of evoking a strong emotion or memory and even though the song's content may have nothing to do with how I feel, it's still like a door to the past is pushed open and I want to go back through it, rearrange some furniture and finish up a few undone things before I shut the door.

Power Outages

Last night we had a wicked storm with almost hurricane-force winds. It seemed to come out of no where as the sky was instantly black, the rain was fierce and and out of our livingroom window we watched huge tree branches bend and snap. We-energies says it's the second worse in history in terms of power outages. My friends dad was driving near Holy Hill and felt his rear tires come off the road then witnessed the trailor of a semi come up and over the other lane. It came on fast and forceful but didn't seem to last that long.

My alarm clock woke me up at 6:50am so obviously we're not affected. Thank God. When I clicked on the local news I saw school closing notices. I had no idea why since we didn't have a freak snowstorm at night or anything. I didn't think the storm the night before really was that bad. I got online to check and make sure my kids really didn't have school.

Yep, it was that bad. House fires, trees falling on roofs, people injured on the highways and lots of damage. Our village was one of the hardest hits from fallen tress and downed power lines.

Yet, we still have power. I'm SO THANKFUL. With four kids, two fridges and a freezer there's no way I could deal with that gracefully.

A man died, leaving 100,000 without power and I'm sure there must be other downed lines and questions about safety. Snoo and Jake do not have school but Mooch does. However, a lot of Milwaukee area schools are closed too so I'm interested to find out why there's such a broad spectrum. Another highschool is closed due to plumbing problems.

Last night the kids just thought it was cool and fun to watch. Now I realize we have no plan in action for things like this. I think it's time to get my emergency kit updated and look into getting a generator like my neighbor did for times like this when we're not the lucky ones.

What's with the weird weather anyways?

I Can't Watch News

My family and friends know that I almost never ever watch news. It's usually just disturbing, depressing and full of terrible things that I have absolutely no control over and can't do anything about.

I'm the type of person that wants to mobilize and do something and I can't. I take everything to the very core of my being. I can feel deeply for others to the point where it's hard to walk away.

I finally watched the first of two Oprah shows on the Katrina devastation.

Big mistake. I was in tears. Shock. Heart wrenching. I can't even get my mind wrapped around it all nor will I ever be able to erase the images burned into my mind.

So sad. Sick. Scary.

I feel anger. Hurt. I'm immobilized. That feeling I hate having which is the very reason I've avoided the news accounts up until now.

Giving money will never be enough. My prayers will never be enough.

I have no right to ever complain again. I will take nothing for granted. Nothing.

Cute as a Button..

and other stupid sayings...

So I've been thinking about all the phrases we use. Like the one, Cute as a Button. How exactly is a button cute? I blogged about this in my old journal but I still haven't found the answer. I hear that stupid phrase all the time, especially when referring to babies. How you can compare a babies cuteness to a button I just can't understand. Let me see here.

Baby. Button.

Puppy. Button.

A button is a button.

When I was a pre-teen, my grandma gave me a huge box of buttons. Old ones and new ones. Unique ones and plain ones. Vintage and antique. I had every color, shape, and size button.
I think it was a hint that I needed to learn to sew. Which has never happened. But I do remember looking into the box and wondering how that phrase got started. It didn't help that I developed a complex about the word cute when my 6th grade teacher made me bury a piece of paper with the word 'cute' inscribed on it. She told me it was my "dead" word and I had to bury it until they opened the time capsule in year 2005.

Yeah, right. Like I'm going to travel all the way to Falsvale Elementary School in Forest Falls to unearth a box of 'dead' words. I digress.

Where do we get some of these stupids sayings?

Knock on wood
Who's there?

Break a leg
In which sadistic culture was breaking bones considered lucky?

I'm so tired it's not even funny
And why would it be?

I'm so hungry I could eat a horse
What about a donkey? An Elephant?

I quit cold turkey
As opposed to warm chicken?

There's no such thing as a free lunch.
So, what about a free breakfast?

Don't put all your eggs in one basket
And why not?

Happy as a Lark
Why exactly are Larks so happy?

Inquiring minds want to know.

Surely you can share your own list of stupid and puzzling sayings? Come on. Let's see what drives you nuts.

Oh, and what kind of person would I be if I didn't show you something as cute as a button after reading all that ranting? Here's Puck. Isn't he buttonlicious?

Dear Bus Company

Hello,

How hard is it to pick up the children on your route? I do know it's only the 3rd day of school and pick-up times will be subject to change. Routes will run behind. But to completely forget the children on your route entirely? This is the second time I've had to drive one of my kids to school, resulting in another of my children being late to class.

Really, is it that hard to remember that your drivers should be competent enough to understand that to drive a yellow school bus means you're supposed to in fact pick up kids and take them to school?

I know, I know. It's a revolutionary idea. Absolutely shocking. Don't hurt yourself trying to understand the concept.

So, what's the deal? Do I need to go down there and show you all how it's done? Must I do everything around here?

Sincerely,

Annoyed Parent

Giggling Mother-in-laws

My husband is extremely buzzed right now.

I don't know what's up with him because he doesn't usually drink at all, but today he came home with Mike's Hard Lemonades, and downed five in about fifteen minutes. Good for him that the kids aren't around, because I don't like having alcohol in the house. It's one of my issues. My mother-in-law had one or two. She doesn't usually drink either. She's living with her parents to look after them and her father is a Seventh Day Adventist pastor. You're going to hell if you even want to eat meat or wear jewelry, let alone have a beer.

The Husband went upstairs to lay down, which is what non-drinkers do after they consume too much alcohol too fast. He left me with his grinning, tipsy mother. I love her and all but it's a little awkward to be around buzzed in-laws. I should be used to it given my childhood and my current demographic. This is Wisconsin afterall, the capital of drinking, and schmoozing with tipsy family members. Especially the family members of friends or in-laws.

've had my share of evenings spent with relatives who have drank too much. You never know when they are going to start breaking into song like some corny disney musical. And I'm not fond of musicals. Especially when they star a chubby aunt who wears too much make-up, short skirts, and bad perfume. My favorite though is when they wax poetic and start the "I love you man" diatribe. Nothing says I love you like mama slurring booze-breathed sweet nothings into your ear in between hiccups. It's charming.

After awhile I went upstairs and informed my husband that if he thinks he's going to leave me downstairs alone with his tipsy sixty-year old mother, he's crazy. I'm laughing at their perma grins. She just ger-zurped my husband. He's thirty-two and has chest hair. Yeah, I'd say she's tipsy.

Tipsy, adj. The usual signs are a flushed face, stupid grin, loud voice and a profound love for mankind. The sufferer is incredibly deep, intelligent and insightful, but prone to giggles.

I keep looking over at them and they have these silly grins. I want to shoot nerf darts between their eyes. I have too much to deal with and hungry children on the way home. We need to decide on dinner and nobody can make up their mind about what kind of pizza to order. I think my mother-in-law suggested spegettios with portabella mushrooms and cheese on top. Preschooler food never sounded more gourmet.

If they start in with the signature high pitched whines for Funyuns, ding-dongs, and Mountain Dew I think I'm going to leave them for to their own demise. I'll make sure they can't use any appliances before I leave of course.

1st Day of Kindergarten

His little eyes popped open 20 minutes before he needed to be up.

Is it time for school mama? Do I need to get dressed?

Me: Sure, you can get ready if you want.

He got up, pulled on his pants and decided to wear his Gymboree shirt over his white t-shirt. Not only did he get dressed in just under a minute but he put his socks and shoes on right away.

LiL' J: OK, mama, let's go. I'm ready!

Me: But little man, you haven't even eaten yet and you still have about an hour before school started.

LiL' J: But I'm not hungry mama. Let's go, I don't want to be late. I'm all ready. Don't I look handsome?

My littlest one is a kindergartener and he's more then excited about it. He had no fears. Just total excitement and eagerness. He couldn't wait to go. It was almost impossible to convince him to hang out and relax. I think if my stalling hadn't worked we would have been waiting in front of the school for about 45 minutes until everyone showed up. This year since there was 11 new K4 students, the helper that LiL' adored is teaching K4 and the regular K5 teacher is back doing her thing. He'll miss Mrs. L but he has a new helper he'll become fast friends with.

There are 16 kids this year and THREE Jake's . Not Jacobs, but Jake's. Yes, that poor teacher. On the very first day the teacher asked another student to give Jake a pencil. He brought it to my LiL' J and it was then I think the teacher realized what she was in for. One more day and I've got 3 1/2 KID FREE hours.

My Prayers and Thoughts

My prayers and thoughts go out to everyone in the great state of Louisiana. I feel so guilty having happily celebrated my birthday while so many weathered the devastation Katrina left behind.

I have no words. I watch the news and I'm stunned. I look at the pictures and I cringe.

My prayers and thoughts are with everyone there and all their family.

Happy Birthday to Me

Its my birthday, its my birthday, its my birthday. I'm gonna' party like its my birthday. So, what are you bringing to the party? Whose covering music? Food? Entertainment. Mmmm, I want some cake.

Look at all these lovely birthday wishes I woke up to. I think the wonderful Storm sent them all over. Sneaky girl.

Then I see that guppy made this page with a fantabulous birthday card for me. Wow, I feel so loved and all this mush is going around. *sniff sniff*

I thank you all. It's so sweet you'd take the time to make my day full of yumminess. And I needed it since my inbox had an email for a plastic surgery consultation. Apparently since I was born back in the dinosaur age I'm starting to look like it as well? Oh, and they think I need a bigger penis? Fools.

I wonder if I'll get an email from crossfire about my free blue convertible? Now, that would be more like it.

THANK YOU EVERYONE. You all get a butterfly kiss.

I'm almost 32

32 years young. You all are invited to my cyber party in two days.

I still don't feel grown up. I'm almost 32 and I don't look like it or feel like it most days. My poor, poor kids.

Now, I realize some of you might want to buy me a gift. If you have some spare change laying around and feel inclined I won't stop you from buying me this in the convertible.

Just between you and me, I have a little bit of money already from my mother-in-law and a very cool friend.

I can't wait to shop. My desparately in need of a manicure hands are rubbing together, thinking of all the ways to spend my money.

What should I buy? Bath and body? Candles? Sterling silver jewelry? Make-up? Skincare products? Camera lenses? Stila lipgloss? Sexy panties. Shoes? Do I get a manicure and pedicure?

A NEW HANDBAG!!? Oh, how I love purses and handbags.

I never spend my money on myself. I use it for the kids school clothes, bills, groceries or I'll let R take it. But this year I feel like saying, me, me, me. I'm a kid in a candy shop. And I want, want, want.

Shhhh......

R's mom is here. She arrived Wednesday. She's cool. Her dog, not so cool. He bit at LiL' J's shirt the FIRST night he was here. After LiL' J started feeling OK enough to be around him and even pet him earlier.

Ugh.

OK so besides the fact I'm admitting I don't like her dog, ((Shhh) I'm also publicly admitting that R is way randy.

No, not R for Randy, he's Randy as in Australian randy. And did I mention his mom arrived Wednesday? That she's sleeping in our livingroom, which is below and to the opposite of our bedroom?

He's randy as in knock things off the dresser and hope you don't break something kind of randy. Throw me down and ravish me randy. Is it psychological? As in he's gonna have his way with a hot babe in his room and mom don't know about it?

Any theories?

Me, Me, MeMe

Tagged, I'm it. It was PM's turn to tag me this time.

1. What is the ratio of sexy panties to granny panties currently in your possession?

There are no granny panties in my drawers. Ew. I'm not a granny panty girl. Truth be told, if the world cares about my panties I like leather, lace, satin, strings and sexy pretty little things. I also love super hero boyshort panties that R buys me and I have a collection of bikini holiday panties. Peppermint candy anyone?

2. Pretend you won one of those “make your dream come true” deals that Oprah is always giving away. What would you ask for?

World Peace A 6 bedroom, 5 bathroom house with two huge washer and dryers, a billiards room, indoor pool, bowling alley, outdoor kitchen........ Plus horse stables and a Christmas tree farm in the backyard.

3. Describe your high school days in one word.

Highschool? Is that what I was supposed to be doing instead of being pregnant in my Sophomore year?

4. If you could shag any celebrity in the world, who would be your top three picks?

I could care less about celebs. Besides, who says they'd be good in bed? My husband is a people Melissa pleaser. Jude Law might just sleep with my baby sitter anyways. Everyone knows once you find a good babysitter it's a bitch to lose her.


5. If you had all the money in the world, more than you could ever spend in four lifetimes, would you eat some??

Nah, I gave up eating money years ago. It made my hips look big.

6. Tag Three People: Miranda- She's bootylicious like me, has adorable little boys and is even more open then myself. She's a cool mamacita. #28- he's new on my blogroll. I predict he does not wear granny panties and might have to choose more then 3 celebrities. Kate- She's my geographical opposite. She's from Wisconsin transplanted to San Diego, now in L.A. I'm from San Diego transplanted to Wisconsin. When she blogs all things Milwaukee I know all about it. When I pine for San Diego treasures missed, she knows all about it. It's a small blog world.