Those New Year Resolutions

For those of you that were not aware, I don't 'do' resolutions at the beginning of a New Year.  I feel like if you want to change something, then do it. No need to wait 'til January 1st, or Monday, or next week. Just get on it. 

But this year may be an exception.  Oh, yes, something happened to precipitate this; be patient, I'm getting to it.

Today I received a holiday greeting from my former boss at BRMC, a fellow dietitian. Not surprising, as we send Christmas cards every year, and the occasional birthday card... and that is all.  I have no other contact with her through out the year, except the incidental 'bump into at Wallies' or something like that.  So, no surprise.  This year, she'd written a lovely message inside and included what looked like a copy of a newspaper article - I thought perhaps something that made her think of me.  Oh,  was I apparently right.

Like me, she has a blog. Big surprise.  She suggested that I check it out sometime. Sure. No problem.  Or so I thought.  Then, I glanced at the article.  My jaw dropped. It was a full fledged article about the First Place 4 Health Christian weight loss program she directs in town, and a nice little note about how I might want to come.

I S*&@#$% YOU NOT!

She actually sent this to me, after seeing me maybe once IN A CHOIR ROBE ( not the most flattering attire ) since the birth of #4.  I weigh a little more than the pre-baby weight, but if you read carefully, you will see that I HAVE HAD THYROID PROBLEMS!

I stood in the kitchen totally speechless... totally.  I don't think I have ever told someone outright that they are a fatty and need to lose a few 'lb's'.  I don't think I ever would!  Weight is something very personal, and everyone has their own issues about their body and body image. But apparently, her 'boundaries' are not the same as mine, and she failed to see that suggesting I join The Biggest Loser via a Christmas card wasn't exactly sharing the spirit of Jesus!!!!

I am completely stunned and obviously offended.  The size of my derriere is my friggin' business, folks, and I would appreciate it staying that way.  (no talking amongst yourselves, hear?) The fact that the Hub has yet to pack my bags and load me onto an aircraft carrier headed to the Chunky Farm means that I am not at critical mass... yet. 

And so, I have decided to make a New Year's Resolution:

1. I resolve to take Miss "You look like two ton Tessie" off my Christmas Card list.  And I'm writing Santa.  And telling her mother, or God, whichever is easier to access.

And I'm thinking about sending her some type of nasty comment on her blog... just thinkin', mind you...

Twas the Night of Christmas

The eve of the 25th, the end of the day, the last dance, the last hooray... you follow? Well, I have come up with the twelve signs of a successful Christmas:

12. You are out of paper: wrapping, packaging, parcel, tissue, toilet - you name it, you're out!!!

11. You have hauled six trash bags to the garbage bins. (seriously. six.)

10. The bank called and said we need to have a 'come to Jesus meeting'.

9. The kids are glazed and dazed and speaking Wii speak from seven straight hours of Wii (singing: Wii wish you a Merry Christmas, Wii wish you a Merry Christmas...)

8. You find a tag from 'All of Us' to 'Satan Incarnate/ Mr. Peebody'. (this was NOT my idea)

7. You find a tag from 'Your loving family' to 'Fat Annie - we love you' (nine year old girls are very sentimental)

6. Dinner isn't an option; not tonight, and tomorrow doesn't look good either.

5. You blog in the same room with Fat Annie's 'sick' kennel, and her potty pads, and she's pooped, but you are too tired to clean it up, so you just sit there, typing, smelling...

4. Your kids haven't really fought all day because they are too busy playing (HALLELUJAH!!!!)

3. Said children have not asked to have a friend over (MIRACLES DO HAPPEN).

2. No phone call from your kids' pesky friends to play (THiS IS THE BEST CHRISTMAS MIRACLE  E_V_E_R_!!!!! Can we do this eVEry day?  That's my grown-up Christmas wish)

And the Number One way to tell you have had a successful Christmas:

1. You find yourself eating the same cookies you made with the kids last night for Santa that you OD'ed on, swearing you never wanted to see a cookie or icing again; not only eating the cookies... but the BIGGEST one, dipped in the leftover icing!!!!!  I call THIS dinner!!!!!  I know,... I am your HERO!!!!!

Oh, and The Hub and I have been voted PARENTS OF THE YEAR - you lose!!!! Yep - the surprise Wii was a hit (please refer to list above), and a complete surprise!  the Masses know that the Hub and I don't really favor video games that just have you sit and stare, or that are violent - and since it is our job to determine and decide - we have, to date, only purchased Leapsters, and V-Tech video learning system.  After many months of thoughtful consideration, we spent another month investigating the Wii, and feel that it meets our specifications for safe and educational, and ACTIVE fun. Like anything, there will be rules as to when and how long we can play.  But they have it!!!!!  And not one of the older three requested the Wii - which made it even sweeter.

And on that note, the stench in here is nauseating, and I've gotta go clean up her mess.  Yes, tomorrow I call the vet to see if this is a side-effect of her injuries. Anything to excuse her complete lack of consideration to my olfactory sense or new carpet!

Fa la la la la (burp)

Yes, I may need some serious alcohol by the time New Year's rolls around. Not everyday one gets to find an errant hammie, carry the injured dog out four times to potty, carry the other dog, Mr. Pee-body aka Satan Incarnate, out to the 'potty' about 5 million times, change baby's poopy diaper twice (countless pee diapies), and feed the Masses and all of the fur family to boot!!!  Can you say Wonder Woman (oh, and yes, I would have satin tights - with diamonds, baby!)  

All in all, I'd say that I have been a VERY GOOD GIRL!!!!!  

WOW!!!! Fat Annie has some serious gas - shew-eee!!!!  Guess all that pain medicine and lack of activity has made her a little gassy? M-E-R-C-Y!!!!!!!!!!!!  Someone get me a gas mask - gasp!  AAAACCKKK - I'm suffocating in here!!!!!!

Well, through the cloud of green farts I can see to type to tell you that I am almost ready for the Big Holiday.  And, really, who doesn't know which one I am referring to?  I figured out why the Catholic/ Orthodox church chose December as the time to celebrate this giant holiday.  Oh, you know you are on pins and needles waiting to hear my crazy explanation.  OK, here it is:

If we had to start the year off with this kind of celebration, we'd just give up. We couldn't get bigger and better all year - too exhausting!  Really - does the 4th 'take it out of you' physically and financially the way Christmas does?  Have you ever uttered the words:' if I can just make through Labor day to Halloween, I think I can relax then?' 

NO. YOU HAVE NOT.  No one has. Because those holidays aren't celebrated to the extent that the birth of Jesus is.

Question is, why don't we make a bigger deal of the Resurrection - after all, if He'd stayed dead, He'd have just been another prophet...

TIs the Season to Be Moo-ing

Well, I missed a fun holiday party last evening - one that we could take the kiddies to - because we had two fevers, one case of the die-ugh-ree, and two pink eyes. So, the hostess a darling wisp of a gal, brought us leftovers!!! Now ain't she sweet?  I'm on to her sinister plot though,... take the leftovers to the Wilsons so that THEY can get all piggy and fat, not me! Well... it's working.

No sooner had she started her car than the Masses began circling me like vultures over a dying rabbit.  What's that? Is that for us? I'm hungry! And on and on until after sixty seconds of the constant verbal abuse I caved and heated 'em up and served the fam.  Yumity -yum-yum-yum... and MOO MOO MOO!  

Amazingly, my kids ate artichoke dip, stuffed mushrooms, dip on their fruit,  crazy, huh?  Now we all know that if I'd have spent hours slaving over a hot stove, whipping and tossing, sauteing and stuffing, that not one of the Masses would have touched a bite - they'd have rather starved!!!  But, since this delightful and dear gal made it, it is the food of the angels above (which we thought so too, but mentioning that doesn't help my point here).  Fickle little devils!!!  Thank goodness I have more delicacies for tomorrow night - yeah me!!!

And in other news:  Fat Annie Found at Local Animal Hospital

Fat Annie was located, thanks to the diligent work of her owner, at a local vet clinic.  She was struck by a car in her escapades Saturday evening, and carried to the clinic by a concerned citizen.  Fat Annie suffered a fractured pelvis, but is expected to make a full recovery in a few weeks; until then, she will remain at home with her loving family.  Thanks again to the wonderful couple who rescued her and sought medical care for her.  "We are using this time to renew our bonds with Fat Annie and help her heal. We are all here for her", commented fantastic owner. Good luck, Fat Annie.

Gotta go pet my doggie...

The Chronicles of Ninnia

So, folks, I hereby claim this title: "The Chronicles of Ninnia" for my up and coming book, which I thank all of you working so hard and definitely overtime to secure the deal (get on it Andrea - work it, girl, work it!)  Last night, the Hub misspoke when asking me if I'd like to watch the Chronicles of Narnia, the fantastic series which will no doubt pale in comparison to my epic tale.  Seriously.  And, the title was born!  So, I am going to print off all these blogs and emails, and voila - a book! Better camp out now for your signed copy!!!!

And update on the War of the Sisters: Former SSF signed me up for an AARP membership, and I laughed so hard I cried!!!!  She's the one people think is MY mother!!!! Ha ha ha ha!!!!!  I'm thinking hard, my friends - so hilarious!!!!  I can count 5, maybe 6 times she's been referred to as my mom or someone else's mom... hee hee hee!!!!!  In fact, it happened so many times in one week that it kind of sent her into a crisis: new hair style, new exercise kick, new paranoia... she always thinks I am looking at the top of her head.  She is just very reserved on first impressions; not surprised she knew the AARP website so well, though!

On other news: Fat Annie Still At Large!

Yes, I spent the better part of the day calling radio stations, the paper, the local vets, and the animal shelters looking for a lost, portly, female beagle, to no avail.  The Hub reassures me that most likely some benevolent soul with closets full of dog food is sheltering her during this arctic storm, and that she is warm and happy, and happily eating THEIR furniture.  I'm OK with this illusion; I do hope she's OK though.... Our gate, which is routinely climbed OVER rather than OPENED by two or three boys and a few girls, blew open in Saturday night's winds - Fat Annie the Very Bad Dog took it as a sign from God to 'run, Annie, run'! And she did.  Since she's a hound dog, I would think she could smell her way home (she leaves enough pee-mail when we go on walks), but she isn't done 'ho-ing' around I suppose. Ho Ho Ho!!!  

Keep praying she comes back - I feel like we should try to take good care of her,... and I don't want to hear #1 bawl about this for weeks!  There goes MORE money for the therapy fund, sheesh!!! "And I remember when our dog ran away during an ice storm, and she NEVER CAME BACK  (breaking down into sobs)!!!!!"  

I don't need more guilt,... really.  Well, gotta go plot revenge ...

The Great Panty Raid

I have a few things that particularly delight me:

the baby belly-laughing

me belly-laughing

the fresh, crisp taste of a Sonic Route 44 Diet Coke, especially at Happy Hour

a delightful glass of La Crema Chardonnay (can you say 'smooth and buttery'?)

my kids playing nicely together

a scrapbook magazine in the mailbox

I only go to the mailbox anymore with the hopes that I'll be rewarded for my walk with a nice, new, crisp (very into crisp, evidently) scrapbooking magazine waiting anxiously to be read ( and I bet they are anxious to be opened, folks).  I have been known to disappointedly put the mail back in the box because it wasn't what I wanted; I do eventually bring the mail in after a few disappointing days, to make room in the mailbox for a magazine, of course!!!

So, today, my dear friend Sister Lunch Lady (oh, and she needs to be sooooo glad that I didn't change her back to Sister Whoopi after yesterday at the Spa and today's evil-doing!  Just shows how unbelievable GREAT and FORGIVING I am!) was with me and I pulled the passenger side of the UDM, where she was sitting, up to The Box, and asked her to please grab my mail.  And low and behold to my wondering eyes what did appear, but a Creating Keepsakes my dear (had to make it rhyme.)!!!!  Well, Sister Sticky Fingers thieved, denied it, and I sooooo busted her!!!!  What kind of friend, let alone Sister, repays your love and kindness by stealing one of the things that brings you the most joy?  Sister Sticky Fingers (aka, Whoopi, and Lunch Lady) that's who!  So, I did the only thing I knew to do...

I stole her panties. Not just one pair... all of them... the clean ones, that is.  See, she is at a Christmas party and not at home, and her darling daughter was babysitting for me and I had to drive her home.  And I stole each and every pair of skivvies she owns - which it turns out is quite a few... I have never seen such a crammed full panty drawer!!! She probably only has to wash once a month, or once a year!!!!  It filled a 13 gallon Hefty Tall Kitchen Garbage Bag!  THat is some serious panty action, there my friends!

Oh, I left a note, for sure! Can't wait 'til she finds them ALL GONE tomorrow morning!!!  Paybacks are hell, and so is commando on a cold (think 27 degrees) December morning...

Loggiarrhea

I obviously have no idea how to spell this REAL condition that I had referred to prior 'til now as 'diarrhea of the mouth': a condition of not being able to stop talking, often to the point of revealing private, or ANY, information about other people entrusted to the speaker.  My FIL informed me that this is a TRUE and REAL diagnosis, and my daughter and sons (#4 isn't saying much, but she does make noise...) have it. In fact, once I learn how to correctly spell it, I'm going to start a support group!

I'm thinking about the Loggiarrhea Silence Center.  What do ya think? Frankly, I'm up for those zero noise earphones after a roadtrip with FOUR children.  

And, I've developed the necessary 'White Trash-ism': it shall be called 'The Loj-ah-ree"!  

My work here is done!!!!  And now, for a moment of silence...

Food and Whine

So, toady I receive my monthly edition of Food and Wine. I am not really sure why I still get this magazine - I rarely have time to read it, and it isn't like anyone besides myself and the Hub would eat these lovely gourmet meals.  But I still get it; so, today's cover boasted easy to prepare, simple meals we MUST try!!!!  Ok, maybe they used fewer exclamation points.

Anyway, I flipped through the periodical to the desired section, where I found exactly ONE recipe that I thought would not be a complete waste of time!  First, many of these delightful recipes feature shellfish - big no-no for us because #3 is allergic to shellfish (I no longer steam lobster tails).  Secondly, because I basically live in a very scenic and attractive middle-of-nowhere small town, I couldn't find this and that 'fresh' if my life depended on it. I can just imagine asking the butcher for a squab!  Anyway, I think I hang on to this hobby of the past because it makes me feel somewhat glamorous, less 'wipe the dried animal cracker sludge off my back', you know?

There will be a time for the fine china and silver, it just isn't now. Now is for teaching the masses to sit to eat, chew with their mouthes closed, ask politely for things at the table, wait until Mom sits down before you start eating, use a fork... no, not which fork to use, I mean literally USE A FORK!  Things such as keep your feet off the table are important right now.  China comes later.

So, I also have to tell you what I heard some tweens talking about last night: their MySpace accounts, or lack of, and who's been cyber-stalked. Nice!  Apparently it is prestigious to claim stalking.  Of course, none of these little munchkins fully understands that they are perishable... but their parents do.  No doubt, most of these girlies are telling a tall tale about their cyber-stalker; but it makes me wonder about society today when our youth consider it cool to have your health and well-being (or LIFE) threatened?  I think it's time to cut back on the boob-tube, and you-tube, and any other 'tubes'.  And do their parents know? At least two girls had MySpace pages that their folks were unaware of, and one girl was going to get one without permission.  They also discussed who'd had their first kiss.  Again, don't remember this being such a huge deal....  SO, moms and dads, keep your eyes and ears, and cyber-senses alert - and the porch light ON - hey, I can flicker mine!!!!

The Hallmarks of a Successful Vacation

There are specific hallmark characteristics of a successful vacation.  You may experience some or all of the following:

1. Exhaustion. (best cured by excessive Cheetos intake)

2. Lack of Cash Flow (or any flow; think the well has dried up, nothin' but lint, start hockin' your old stuff on eBay - I can hear the debit card crying and the bank laughing... not good)

3. Physical, Bodily Pain (most likely from carrying all four children and their luggage - mostly non-necessary items - sometimes ALL of it at once, followed by sitting still in a car or plane or train for at least 17 hours straight)

4. Intense Desire to be Alone (this is called being 'peopled out', and specifically is in reference to the people you just spent eight days in a car/hotel/hotel bathroom with).

5. Loss of Verbal Skills (really, what more could you have to say to these people?)

6. Dazed Look (and confused at how so few people could dirty SO many clothes in ONE day!)

7. Disrupted Sleep ( because everyone is in their bed and no one is kicking you or stealing the covers/pillow/ whole bed; also caused by getting up in the night to change the laundry or it'll be Christmas before you're caught up!)

If you or someone you know is experiencing one or more of these symptoms, medicate with copious amounts of Diet Coke and Cheetos.  There is hope!!!

My New Editor

Apparently, Blogspot has decided to edit my The Great Fleecing Blog without prior notification or precedent;  we are now at war.  We are greatly relieved that Our New Editor has decided to leave the definition of the Fleecathon: the Great Fleecing in place for all to see!  Add this to your vocabulary next family vacation.  We apologize for any inconvenience this may have caused you; I'll be in therapy for the stiffling of my creativity!

The Great Fleecing

Oh, the great fleecing,... The Fleecathon: when parents are stripped of their money in an effort to create lasting fun, family memories that will enrich and enhance the lives of all family members; any time a parent hands out money hand over fist in order to placate a child or children in an effort to promote, or simply maintain, peace and harmony on a family vacation;  

Days 1,2,and 3 of Roadtrip '08

Well, we've successfully made it through three days of the '08 Roadtrip, and we have so far had one severely cut hand (no stitches required per the Hub), and three unknown bug bites, and no fatalities.  Pretty good for a family vacation!

We've had such an awesome time with Sister M'Bellish and company, and enjoyed the joys of one of the nicest, upscale malls; I do believe that I will survive the closing of the greatest store on earth!  God is good, guys and dolls, God is good!  

Turns out that #4 is an awesome traveler and has many adoring fans now in multiple states - she IS gorgeous, you know.  We did get her some royal clothes and will stop by the royal cobbler's establishment (Stride Rite) before heading to the indoor water park extraordinaire!!!  Must say I am quit happy that the Masses did not do ANY property damage at the Parkies' house - hallelujah!!!!

We have enjoyed the delicious cuisine of Matt's Rancho Martinez Mexican Food Restaurant (to which there is no comparison for the chicken chili relleno with green sauce - not red - GREEN); we then proceeded to pretend to work off our gluttony at the North Park (oh, it should be referred to with great deference and honor).  Tomorrow, we will don our bathing suits and pretend to ignore the aftereffects of the chili relleno - so worth every extra mile!

If I seem a little scattered, I am now mainlining Diet Coke with reckless abandon.  I think I'll need an intervention when the holidays are over.  But until then, pass the 2 liter baby!!!!  Well, gotta go sleep so I can get up and have more Diet Coke tomorrow!

The Rocket (as promised)

Well, so far my advertising hasn't gleaned me any more followers, but I have only begun to brainwash - muh wah wah wah wah wah!!!! (Insert evil laugh and handwringing). 

Yes, it is that roadtrip time of year, and in the heart of every parent that means mass chaos and a bald spot from pulling out your hair.  Thankfully, with the invention of the TV in the car, the old road trip songs are much catchier - nothing like the Masses' favorite show's theme song for ten hours!!!!  And, since there are sooooo any of us, and we like to haul lots of stuff where ever we go, we put the Rocket on top of my nice new ultimate driving machine (UDM).

What is the Rocket?  Well, my uninformed friend, the Rocket is a suppository shaped storage device that rides on TOP of the UDM in PLAIN SIGHT advertising to the world that we have a large family and carry lots of c-r-a-p!  I have threatened to paint flames and/or flowers on it (spruce it up), as it tends to nest up there - it requires two adult men to hoist up there and position correctly; this requires The Hub contacting a buddy to lend a hand, and since it is NOT HIS vehicle, he is usually in no hurry to call in a favor. It rides for MONTHS on my car... the price I pay for a week away!

No, it isn't bad enough that I drive the UDM, it now has a flying suppository attached to the top. Yeah, me.  It is sooooo nifty that I had a senior citizen follow me to enquire where I purchased said lovely suppository.  All I need is a track suit, fanny pack, and a Metamucil wafer - look out bingo night!!!

We are taking the fam to Tejas, and as Sister Scout says, nothing like a family vacation to land you in divorce court!!!  I'm hoping there are no sudden deaths due to repeated 'are we there yets'!  BUt just to be on the safe side... keep us in your prayers.

Tis the season and Bah-humbug!

For those of you who don't know me so well, I am the Grinch.  I love the reason for the season, though Christ was most likely born in April or thereabouts, but not all the hoopla that comes with it.  And I could definitely do without the seven our eight weeks of Christmas music!!!  Nothing like trick or treating to Christmas Carols!!!!

So, it is nothing short of a miracle that I wrapped my first Christmas presents today.  Sister Scout just fell over, passed out cold from the shock, no doubt!!!  Yep, Mrs. Claus did some online shopping, and Nana sent some gifts early, and in order to prevent nosey Masses from discovering their booty, I had to wrap.

Now, there are your Martha Stewarts.

You have the professionals at the department or specialty stores.

There are the crafty moms.

Experienced grandmas.

Up and coming wives that want impress.

Your kids.

The Hubs.

My ten month old.

And there is me.

Please note where I rank in the scale of skill - so sub-amateur that the elevator doesn't even go that low!  You'd think that the invention of the gift bag would have been a God-send, but you are wrong, my friend, you are wrong.  In the hands of a professional, it becomes a veritable bouquet of fluff and festivity; in my hands, it's just a fancy paper bag with tissue paper crammed into it.  This is NOT my gifting.

I remember as a wee lassie, sitting at me mummies knee attempting to learn the great art of tying fancy bows (all the rage at the time - there were classes and everything!); we'd take the ribbon with the wire in it, in shades of country blue or dusky rose and twist and tie, fluff and curve.  Alas, it was not to be for me.  I failed the family legacy... OK, a wee bit dramatic here.  I let my sister do it!

If I cared enough I might hire a professional to wrap the presents, decorate the tree (OK, the kids do it... 'nuff said; VERY bottom heavy on the ornamentation), and decorate the house, and VOILA!!! Southern Living, here I come.

But I don't. Oh, I care that Christ came, that he lived, that he died (FOR ME - whew! Glad I don't have to do that!) and that he rose again (the real biggie, along with ascending into heaven and sitting at the Right hand of God the Father Almighty, in whom is given all power and authority - that part REALLY counts!!!) - I care a lot about that!

I just don't care enough to spend all that time learning how to wrap presents.  But I admit that today I hit a new low in the wrapping world - I measured wrong and ended up splicing paper together. Gosh! I feel like I've been to confession - forgive me, for I have sinned!!!

I'm really ashamed of myself.  I feel like I've hit rock bottom!  I admit it!  I don't care about wrapping presents!!!!

This could be a turning point for me, you know? I think I might just rewrap that present...

Coming up: (yes, I am now advertising future blogs seeing as I have ONE FOLLOWER - sheesh, even David Koresh had more than that!!!)  The Rocket - COOL in the terms of parenting!  You won't want to miss that one, but no rush, as the Hub usually drags it out for WEEKS!!!! 

Also, A Home in Mourning: Life after Pip Passes.

Let it snow, Baby!

As I type, the basement is being ravaged by four boys - two are mine and two are guests.  I am scarred to go down there!!!

So, why am I so concerned with snow?  Well, let me explain! (like I wasn't going to anyway - this is my blog and that's what I do... yada yada yada!!!!)

Yesterday, as I dressed for the day, I daringly decided to try on the skinny jeans - the post baby jeans were getting rather roomy - so I dug them out.  Believe it or not, they fit pretty well!  I checked in the 'rearview' mirror... NOT BAD!!!  then I turned around to straighten my shirt...

I looked like a snowman!!!!

I fainted!!!

Apparently, all my extra skin and post baby fluff had easily slid above the jeans line, and was now orbiting my waistline, beneath my boobs!!!!  Yea! I have my own ring - look out Saturn, competition comin'!

I looked like a snowman with even 'balls': boobs, orbiting belly fluff, and the lower half.  Seriously, I had to laugh or I'd be suicidal with shock and grief!!!!  What is this stuff?  It seems all loosy goosy and jiggly... could this be... SKIN?  GOod grief!!!!

I have officially decided that if this satellite continues to orbit my planet, I'm taking the kids' college funds and getting a tummy tuck!  Really, I think it would be for the best - kids have sane, happy momma... or kids have college education to get a good job to support their crazy, fluffy momma who wears track suits and sips Diet Coke all day!!! (hey, I wear yoga pants - waaaayyyyy different that a track suit! And I GUZZLE DIet Coke - I AM a professional, ya know)  GAAAWWWDDD - I might even start watching soap operas and reading TV Guide!  Lord save us all!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, and this morning, yes THIS morning, we ended Pip's vacation - Sophia and Orrin caught her and returned her to her nice townhouse sized cage.  She'll have to just dream about her time under the dryer!!!!

THere's the timer for the boys' cookies!!!!  Better 'fluff' my way in there (watch me wiggle, see me jiggle, cool and fruity - sure, I'm a little fruity... or is that nutty?)

WANTED

WANTED:

One black and white dwarf hamster, approximately 2 inches long, beady black eyes, tiny tail.  Last seen Thursday, November 13th, in the vicinity of the dryer, keeping questionnable company with copious dust bunnies. Apparently, not answering to the name of "Pip".

REWARD:

Life long love and devotion of four children and their fabulous mother, fresh carrot and apple slices, and a beagle-free habitat!  Please contact owner if spotted or caught.

More Revenge for Woodie

While I'd like to think that this blog will be inspiring, causing some of you to live better, fuller lives... I have a feeling I'm gonna fall short of that mark!!!  Thank you, Sister Lunch Lady, for your assistance with the 'Woodie' problem.  She called with a rec to try AttackSpider.com, for a realistic, sound and motion operated fuzzy black, rather large spider that drops from the eaves of the house to terrify ol' Woodie into moving!!! Love it!!! 

Attack Spider costs about $15 for one, and if you buy in bulk, there's a discount.  In fact, you can get a case, which is some serious Attack action (!), for $216 - I know this has to be , like 32 or something.  Now, listen up - if you need that many Attack Spiders, then you have more than a woodpecker problem... you have an epidemic.  In fact, it would be a whole lot more cost effective to just go with the flow and list your domicile as a woodpecker haven and habitat!

The ol' if ya can't beat 'em, join 'em theory!!! Besides, there might be some type of tax relief in providing a natural habitat for an endangered species... worth checking out, don't ya think?

So, today, as I picked up the basement (where the Masses reside), both the Hub and I noticed an offensive smell - think a skunk got hit by a car carrying a bunch of very poopy horses in the Arizona desert on a 140 degree day with a driver carrying a bunch of bottles of simulated doe urine - that's the smell.

I start investigating, once I determine that all the hammies are accounted for (didn't want to find a dead, rotting hammie).  As I enter our 9 year-olds room, the smell intensifies.  I start towards her bathroom... and the hairs in my nose are singed off!!!  I enter the bathroom, and I am temporarily blinded by the aroma of dead and decaying - well, something dead and decaying!!!!

I steady myself against the towel rack, and forge ahead!  Each step is an olfactory assault - tears are sliding down my face, I am gasping for breathe... I reach the potty... I lift the lid... and I am knocked almost unconscious by the smell...

A GIANT FERMENTING "POOH-POOH - HAUNTED - US" REARS ITS DISSOLVING HEAD!!!!!!!

AAARRRRGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Funny thing is, NO ONE will own up to it!!!! In fact, according to our kids, they haven't pooped in about a week!!!!!  THereby giving them alibis for the 24 - 48 hour time frame (based on decomposition and fragrance) of said crime.  Continuing to investigate...

Me vs. Mother Nature

So, Mother Nature and I are at war; not the kind that comes monthly, no, I mean the REAL Mother Nature.  You know, managing... well, nature.  We are no longer friends.

I know, you are just DYING to know why.  Well, we have a woodpecker problem.  A real live, very pesky woodpecker. At first, Woodie ( like you could think of a better name!) was just an annoyance; peck, peck, peck on the window facing outside #4's window.  I'd just bang on the window, or open the front door, and off he'd go.

However, as winter draws near in these here parts (of the woods), Woodie and his cozy little family are apparently looking to make a more permanent investment in property - MINE!!!!

THe Nanny (aka One Of God's Greatest Gifts) alerted me to the Woodie situation worsening - he'd pecked a hole in the stucco facing!  Stupid bird!!!!  One hole I can deal with.  But the story doesn't end here.

Virtually overnight, Woodie shifted in to overdrive and pecked FOUR HOLES, surprisingly evenly spaced, around the upper facing of #4's window!!!!

Entrance, exit, skylight, and ventilation.

So, I called the Fish and Game Commission.  The older gent I spoke with kindly informed me that woodpeckers were indeed a problem (DUH!!!), and that he'd copy some info for me to read.  Also, more importantly, it is against federal and state law to shoot them, as they are endangered species!!!! ( He must have read my mind)

OH, DEAR WOODIE, IF ONLY YOU KNEW HOW IN-DANGERED YOU REALLY ARE!!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, now that his condo is complete we haven't heard much from him.  Nonetheless, I plan on doing something about his new roost before spring is heralded by the cheeping and pecking of Woodie's progeny!  But, according to the xeroxed info, there isn't much I can do effectively, long-term to rid my residence of Woodie, the Unwanted Guest.  Poison is outlawed, too.  Rats! Owls, falcon decoys... all have to be there BEFORE Woodie or any of his buddies come a knockin'!  One can construct elaborate netted devices to keep the buggers away, but again, most only work if you erect them BEFORE your pesky new friend makes himself at home.

I am officially open for suggestions. On the Woodie situation. Let's keep it to that for now!

The Beast Goes into Hibernation

OK, this is a different 'beast' than I usually refer to with the Scrapheads - this is the Soccer Mom Beast.  She is defined by her excessive enthusiasm during her sons games, coaching from the sidelines, yelling behind parents taping their kids' games, and inability to sit during said games!  This Beast requires Sonic DC, sunglasses, sunscreen, and a fair ref - plus a friend or two to hollar with (very important, otherwise the Soccer Mom Beast is a loner, which is NOT the norm for this particular animal!)!!!!

Also, this Beast tends to know every kid on the team by first and MIDDLE name - useful when someone kicks the ball into the wrong goal!  She isn't afraid to tell her own kid to pay attention and get in there and get that ball - she does exhibit good sportsmanship when he scores his 8th goal by not yelling, yet again, 'that's my boy!!!"

THis Beast is ME!!!!  I was never one to cheer at high school games or college games, and really have very limited experience in the sports' knowledge arena, but I make up for what I lack with pure enthusiasm and motherly love - and I have A LOT of that!!!!!  It doesn't hurt that the boys LOVE this game, and really want to play, and play hard... that they LOVE to score, and they LOVE to hear their mama cheering for them.  And I have reassurance from the HUB that I have yet to embarrass him - love the 'yet' part; nothing like a challenge!!!!

So I have the winter to regroup, save my voice, and learn a little more about the game - THE BEAST has to train too, ya know!!!!  Can't wait for spring... and a full moon, and a good soccer game... the transformation will begin,... and baby, I'll be back!!!!

GOOOOOAAAAAAAALLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Scrapheads

This is an important story. Better crack the DC now!  A few years ago, I began scrappin'; it was August of 2002 - oh, I remember it well.  I then introduced a few friends to this incredible pastime and hobby, and thus was born our group,... The Scrapheads.

We got our name from the Hub, who likened us to the Grateful Dead followers in our faithfulness to each other and our cause.  There were originally three Scrapheads, and slowly, we initiated others deemed 'worthy'.  But, as time went on, we had to boot a few out due to their traitorous ways: these are dubbed the Sorry Sisters.

Each member of the organization has an official name, given to them by the two (remaining) founding members of our esteemed group, myself (Sister Maniac), and Sister Scout. The meaning of the name is contemplated seriously at length and even tested for accuracy and 'roll-off-the-tongue-ability'.  Only when we agree is the name officially bestowed on our prized friend.  Not everyone is privy to the meaning!

I just thought  that you, my readers, ought to know a little bit about my Sisters, who keep popping up in conversation.... They are conversation worthy!!!  Right, Sister Whoopi - hee hee hee hee hee!!!!

So, the scourge of the winter has hit - the Masses have all been ill,... even the Hub, which is worse than the Masses being ill in and of themselves.  I just keep my head down and hang on for dear life!!!!

OK, so I'm exaggerating a little.  Artistic license.  I have no real news to date, except that I have found myself fantasizing lately, and not about the usual things: I have been imagining Satan Incarnate dropping dead mid-bark!!!  We bought a bark collar for Fat Annie, the Very Bad Dog, because it was that, or let the Hub target practice;  collar is working well.  So, one recent night as I sat enjoying my nightly apple and book (eat apple, read book), Satan Incarnate began barking his fool head off (oh, that I would BE so lucky).  I did the usual - I tried to ignore him.  He got louder, if that's really possible, and we risked him waking the baby up.  He wants food; that's his only enjoyment in life now.  So, I gave him a nice heaping dollop or two of his nasty food... he ate it and came back for more... bark bark bark... just shut up OK?... bark bark bark... what do you want?... bark bark bark... just go meet Jesus for cying out loud? do you want to go meet Jesus, 'cause I can soooo arrange that... bark bark bark... FINE!  Here's your food... hope you choke on it!  (GLOATING FROM THE DOG!)

Hence the new line of fantasies; not sexy, but oooohhhh so nice!

Sybil called today to tell me that she'd called and left me several messages; I didn't get them I said. Oh, well I left them; several of them. OK, what is going on?  Well, I left it in the messages I left you; the first message tells you about it; the next message I left because you didn't respond to the first message I left you, and I didn't know if you'd gotten the first message or not.  So, I left you another one.  I didn't get them, I said; sorry.  So, what's up, I say.  Well, I know I left you at least two or three messages, because you didn't respond to the first one; I know I've called several times.  But you obviously didn't get the messages.  But I called... several times.

 - this is what I WANTED  to say:

OK ENOUGH - YOU CALLED. YOU LEFT SEVERAL MESSAGES. I DIDN'T GET THEM BECAUSE THE UNIVERSE IS PLOTTING AGAINST YOU AND WANTS TO CUT YOU OFF FROM ALL CIVILIZATION FOR EVER - FOR ALL ETERNITY - AND DO EXPERIMENTAL THINGS ON YOU - THEY LEFT YOU A MESSAGE ... DID YOU GET IT?

AND SHE WONDERS WHY I DON'T ANSWER HER CALLS - MYSTERY SOLVED!!!!!!!

The Hub found the retelling of this story particularly funny, because he has witnessed similar conversations in person (yes, this is a REAL person).  I also find it funny,... annoyingly so!  Will be screening the calls...

By the way, looky who's learning to use all the nifty-neato gadgets on the blog site?  Also, guess who got and iPhone 3G???  HINT: not Sister Whoopi!!!!!

Imitation: the Highest Form of Flattery

So, today, my 'former'  BFF shows me HER blog complete with pic and everything - please note the update to my sight!  Ain't #4 GORGEOUS?  I know!!!!

So, imitation is the highest form of flattery; someone said that, I have no clue who, so I'm taking the credit for now.  See how trends start?  How easily they catch on?  Before we know it, Grandma will have her own blog, and fill all in on her knitting groups dirty little secrets, or the latest gossip at the quilting bee!!!

Well, the Hub has been out of town for a meeting, and we have so far survived - PRAISE GOD!!!  Nothing like good old Mickey D's for dinner one night.  Can you say vacation from the kitchen?  I made Chef Boyardee Spaghetti O's for the Masses tonight (seriously? "Chef Boyardee"?); I had soup - not so much on the canned sketti o's.  All in all, we have survived in style.

Unfortunately, the Hub must miss us terribly, or be terribly disappointed in his new iPhone 3G, because when I talked with him tonight, he was G-R-U-M-P-Y!  Now, I think that is wrong on so many levels!  For one, he's sleeping through the night, and if he's not it is his own stupid fault!!!  Number two, he has NO ONE else to take care of - no one is opening the door to the john (I hope) to ask him if they can have some juice.  Number three, he's had ADULT conversation, and these folks use BIG WORDS!!!  Number four, he has eaten REAL food at REAL restaurants... or better yet, has had room service where he can eat in his undies in bed with no one snitching from his plate!  Number five, he has watched what HE wants to watch on the Boob Tube.

If anything, folks, he should be one truly happy camper!!!  Oh, and number six, he's talked UNINTERRUPTED (wow, what a concept) on the phone or FACE TO FACE with another human being!!!

How can he be in a fowl mood?  Shoot, I'd be sitting there eating strawberries with whipped cream in the favorite comfy jammies  reading a really good book.  So, why is he so,... well, grumpy?

Could it be that he feels a little lost in the world of normalcy and adulthood without all our familiar familial chaos?  Could it be that he feels more grounded knowing that we are here waiting on him to come home, and that he'll be greeted like a hero daily?  Or maybe he misses the sweet little hands and genuine hugs, and the insistent urging to play with us?  Could be.  Bet ya it is.

Oh, and I certainly got me an iPhone too, sister!!!

Pick Your Powers

SO, I was thinking tonight that I would love to create myself as a super hero. What super powers would I have? What would people call me? Would I be immortal? Invincible? Overly muscular? Or just buff enough? What would I wear? (you knew that was coming)  Certainly not satin tights, that's for sure!!!  

I picture myself as the soccer mom, dashing to yoga class with my decaf green tea..., when suddenly (!), I get some sort of signal via my iPhone (ha ha ha Sister Whoopi), and I have to detour to save the world!  I'd certainly be soooo techno-savvy, and cutting edge fashion cool (because my heroine has a rockin' bod); my heroine would age VERY slowly - I'd look fab at seventy;  but most of all, I want one specific power... the "Do Over".

Yep, I would possess, among other things, the incredible and much coveted ability to 'reset' and do it over - with one advantage: I would be able to remember what I had done wrong the first time (hey, this is my fantasy, and I can do what ever I want)!  Wouldn't that be great?

Have a fight with the Hub? No problem! RESET!  Say the wrong thing? No problem! RESET!  Make obscene gestures at someone in traffic, only to find out it was your pastor? NO PROBLEM!  RESET!!  Eat too many mini Milky Ways? RESET!  Oh, I so see all the possibilities here!

Frankly, I think this is more useful that the running faster than a locomotive (who says that anymore?); who uses trains anymore, though I do love to remember the sound of the trains as I lay in bed at night as a child (yes, that's a REAL memory).  I digress.  What good is it if you beat the train, but have toilet paper hanging from your shoe doing so? RESET!

I would be able to redo what I messed up, and know how I messed it up!  Love this idea.  So many times I've said the wrong things to the Masses, and I just know they'll nail me on it in therapy someday - I'd just love to be able to take 'em back, and get it right.  Or, I keep doing the same stupid thing, and wonder why the result isn't getting better.  Just think: RESET!  And my supergal button would have an exclamation point at the end. Life's too short to live it unenthusiastically!!

And for those of us that are raising kids, think about resetting, and finding out that you aren't the reason your kids are messed up!  What if you could go back and be the perfect parent and know that it isn't all your fault.  I think that'd help alleviate a lot of guilt in the world.  In fact, I think it could eradicate a whole classification in the ID-9 system, and totally ruin Freud's thoughts on what makes us tick irregularly.  This could be big!

ANd I'd be powered by Diet Coke.  And no one would charge me for it.  Or make comments on how much I consume.  And I'd be able to fly.  Wheeee!!!!!!

SO, WHAT WOULD YOU DO/HAVE AS SUPERPOWERS IF YOU WERE A SUPERHERO?  Comment and let me know - I might need to add it to my repertoire!

Another Birthday

Well, I'm a year older - sure beats the alternative!  And so far, so good!  I'm not into the whole birthday thing - oh, the gifts are great, but I really want time with my family and friends.  This year, I asked the Hub to donate in my honor to the Project Smile, which travels worldwide repairing cleft lip and palates in third world countries at no cost to the families.  THis is really what I wanted. Awesome!!!  Everytime I see the beautiful smiles of the Masses, I will think of how some blessed parents are seeing the physical beauty of their child match the inside beauty.

My kids gave me scrappin' stuff, and #1 blew me away with a pillow she and Grandma needlepointed for me - she's nine (#1, not Grandma)!  I am a blessed gal!!! The Scrapheads treated me to lunch and dinner, different days and different members.  I felt really celebrated.

Perhaps this birthday thing isn't so bad after all.  I think the celebration is more about the fact that people are glad you were born, not the mileage!  Now that, I can buy into.

For Christmas, I'd like him to donate to the Backpack Meals program at a church in town - they provide weekend meals for kids that might not get enough food for the weekend, and secretly slip the items into their backpacks; they are items easy to prepare, even for a first grader.  Now that says Merry Christmas all over it!!!

Why am I telling you this?  Well, I got to thinking about how much I am blessed with (not Bill Gates style or anything), and I decided that it was time to start giving back.  You know, adopt a family for Christmas, buy toys for kids who might not get any, work at a soup kitchen, etc.  So, this is how I'm starting.  Sure, we give through out the year, and donate clothes, toys, etc, but I wanted to give up something BEFORE I used it - make it really mean something - make it my gift - give my gift - be blessed because I'm gonna do with less (I have everything I need!!!)  And I'd like to encourage you gals, and the hair guru, to think about doing something similar, if you are able.  It doesn't have to be costly financially - make it a gift of time (decorate a tree at the nursing home?).  Happy thinking!!!

Too Much Information

There are certain things, that as a daughter, I do not want to know about my father... ever.  So, DOD (dear old dad) and Nana came to visit, and tonight he and I drove to the pharmacy to retrieve some scripts for the Masses.  When we arrived, the following scenario played out:

Me: Do you need anything, or did you want to wait in the car?

DOD: No, I don't think so.

Me: OK, then I'll be right back.

DOD: Wait there is something I need.

Me: Do you want me to get it for you? What is it?

DOD: I need some hemorrhoid suppositories.

Me: Well, put it in park - you're on your own for that one!

Yes, he wanted me to peruse the aisles and just pick him up some hemorrhoid suppositories, not cream - nope!!! Butt pills!!!  You have gotta be kidding me!!!  We parted once inside the doors of the Walgreens.

But that isn't all.  when we got into the car, he apparently needed to discuss this a little, or whole lot, more!  So, he told me how he'd run out on Sunday, but thought it would be best to have some on hand for the trip home.  He's been having some problems; I prayed silently this was not genetic!!!!  Then he told me about his hemorrhoid conversations with his doctor. Sorry I missed it first hand!

I love DOD, but I wasn't really ready for such personal info... I don't think I ever will be!!!  But, it is good for a giggle or two!

Remember

As you go to sleep tonight remember some special people in your prayers:

Our women and men in the service

The people they fight to protect

The people they fight against (God doesn't want them to perish eternally)

The children of this world... ALL the children

Their parents

The sick

The hungry

The lonely

The different

The teachers

Their students

The leaders of every nation, big or small

The followers in every nation, every single one

The single mom in line at the grocer's next to you

The elderly gentleman who waved at your kids

The server at McDonald's

The market vendor in Asia

The brothers and sisters in Christ who risk it all to share the gospel

The brothers and sisters who choose not to...

Which one are you?

From Under the Rock

Well, I  am currently hiding under a rock, or at least wish I was; the Hub had a Freak Out over the financial crisis Thursday, and we all spent the weekend treating our ulcers!  He's not one to Freak Out, but everyone is alloted a certain number of Freak Outs, and He's officially used one; we survived the blast.  Still smokin' though.

So, Saturday, I slipped into one of my beloved nursing bras (have 8 month old, remember?); and it felt odd.  I couldn't quite place my finger on it until I looked in the mirror, and was greeted by the leaning boobs of Pisa!  It seems that one of the underwires (the left cup) has gone AWOL!!!  How is that possible?  It isn't in the washer or dryer, or the drawer, or laundry basket, or the bra.  So where did it go?

Several months ago I experienced the phenomenon of the broken underwire - twice!!! - causing me to explore and coin the word "bodacity" in reference to my bossom.  This has, sadly, not always been the case; nor will it last, I fear.  I expect the Great Exodus when I finish nursing #4 (envision the Israelites leaving Egypt).  But for now, I am cursed with the repercussions of the BIg Busted Gal, as well as the oddities, such as the Disappearing Underwire.

I am still looking for the underwire, and hope to find it before my son does and takes it to school as a boomerang... this could get embarrassing.

More Dog Death Dreams

TOnight as I snacked on a delicious, yet not quite up to the par of my usual Pink Lady Apple, Braeburn apple, I was seized with the incredible desire to strangle the beagle, Devil Dog.  It could be that she was baying uncontrollably in the dark backyard at some poor sweet bunny - for 20 minutes straight. Doesn't her throat get sore?  Now, I know some of you want to call the SPCA, and I say go ahead, cause they will find well cared for loved-by-my-children animals; I love the hammies.  We do take excellent care of our canines, and thus they are still alive!!!

I used to love my dog (Satan Incarnate), but time and his aging process have made it possible for me to pray again tonight that he will go quietly to the great food bowl in the sky!  As for Annie, if we get rid of her, the Masses will want a puppy, and I just got new carpet in this house so we can sell it in about a year... you see my dilemna.  I anticipate that I will someday love dogs again, just not THESE dogs!

But, the Hub has just sneaked in here and asked me to do something about Annie, as she is on a bark-a-thon again - seriously - dry mouth? sore throat? hoarseness?  Oh, I'd like to do something about her, alright!

And, on a side note, I want to make the point that, yes, I do have a birthday approaching; no, it is not anything special (bunch of nosey Nellies!); no, I will not tell you my exact age.  Why should you care? So you can make fun of me? Say things like: "My doesn't she look good for (insert number here)?"  or "how much surgery do you think she's had to be looking that good at her age?" or "you're older than I am!!!" I do not particularly enjoy birthday festivities in my honor, unless #1 (who has a definite future in party planning) plans it. And no, you can not use my daughter to plan me a party - I hate surprises, unless they are diamond-age, and then I still would rather not have it as a surprise. I think I should be celebrated EVERY STINKIN' DAY BECAUSE I AM FABULOUS!!!!!  But just in case any of you darling friends of mine think it would be funny to prank me, with say, an ad in the paper????

I will avenge myself. Period. Be afraid.  I spare no expense on revenge.  You have been warned.  More like promised. I. Mean. It.  That includes you Kaci, Tigo, Jen, Debbie, Jeanne, Kelly, JuJu... I'll have to add the rest later!

JUST ASK JEN- I DO NOT LIKE SURPRISES!!!!!!  I SERIOUSLY TRY TO PEEK AT THE CHRISTMAS PRESENTS!!! I AM NOT A SURPRISE LOVIN' KINDA GAL AT ALL!!!!!

WHAT DO I WANT FOR MY BIRTHDAY?  Time with my friends, of course!!!  To eat, drink (Diet Coke, duh), and be merry croppin'!!!  I am happy that I get older every year, because the alternative is not in my plans for a while, amy the Lord will it so.  But I'd like to focus more on the "aren't I lucky to be so blessed with all these great people and a fab family" than the count the gray hairs and crows feet (not really a hit party game, know what I mean?). 

AND IF YOU WANT TO KNOW MY AGE?  You'll have to buy me diamonds!!!!!

On the Subject of the Eternity Planning for the Dog

I often fantasize of ways to kill Satan Incarnate;  my current involves spontaneous combustion. His, not mine.  It's a glorious day, when all of the sudden, all his barking and fussing at me causes him to swell up like an overgrown toad, or a very very pregnant lady in the heat of late August, and he just... EXPLODES!!!!  then I wake up.  It's just a fantasy.  Darn.

I am not a really graphic person, nor a hateful person, or a vengeful person;  but the dog is bringing out the worst in me tonight (OK, every night... every moment... of every day).  I mean, if I was mean and hateful, I lure the half-blind, mostly deaf old arthritic leaky pup into the road at rush hour... and I have thought of it, but I'd be too guilt ridden for all eternity.  I don't want him to hurt.  So, I pray every night that he'll just go to sleep and go quietly to heaven, just drift off peacefully in his sleep.

And every morning I wake up and he's still here.

I'm doing penance for something!!!  I've had multiple offers to 'take care of him', and several from the Hub, but so far I haven't put out a contract on him... yet... not today... golly, am I tempted!

So, until then, I am left changing his homemade diaper, and taking some comfort that he's miserably humiliated in it, and therefore I am compensated somewhat for all the misery he's caused us.  Nothing like a little payback - hey, I'll take what I can get!!!

JELLO

I know, I know, you're wondering what I could possibly say about this 'wiggly, jiggly' concoction that frequents soooo many of our holiday tables in various and assorted salads.  But I can say so much, really!

Today, I risked my gastronomical health by dining at the home of MILLIE, who is a truly delightful woman and beyond fab grandma;  the cooking thing may have passed its heyday for her. On many such occasions, I have eaten a meal at her house featuring multiple starches and the ever-anticipated jello salad (or just jello).  Who knew one could do so much with Jello?  Certainly NOT the makers of the stuff - they are creative, but I'm here to tell you they do not hold a candle to MILLIE!!!  She has concocted her OWN DISH: "Yum - Yum".  This is whipped Jello. No fooling.  It tastes like air, which isn't necessarily a desired culinary goal.  I am not sure why she has become so creative with Jello; it could be all the years of meal prep, but the food industry has exploded in my lifetime alone to provide creative kitchen opportunities.  It could be that she gets a wild hair every now and then to work in a test kitchen... so hers has become just that.  We are the lab rats.

I dread the invitation that begins with:" I've gotten a notion to do some cooking, and I tried this new recipe...", because it invariably concludes with:"I modified it, or I tweaked it, or I substituted...". BUt, the absolute worst is when she says:" I'm doing a little experiment, or I came up with...".  Take your Prevacid and Tums!

She's experimental in other ways, too.  I give her applause for her creativity!  She's ambitious in her ideas!  And, she has a fetish with freezing.  The Hub has a fetish with pickles, I have a fetish with Diet Coke.  I fault her not for her fetishes.  I fault her for freezing!!!  There is a moratorium of some sorts somewhere on how much and what can be frozen and for how long!!!!  How do we get a copy?  Seriously, when you can't tell what the food substance is anymore, skip the defrost and toss!!!!  If it's been in there for over 6 months, you obviously didn't like it enough to want it to begin with!  You probably won't like it the second time around!!!

True, I have made Turkey day dressing in a double batch and frozen one for CHristmas, which is about a month away... a month, get it?  About thirty days, little more, little less.  Hint. Hint.

I know, I know, you think: could jello really have sent her into such a tizzy?  Well, it's more of a train-of-thought thing than a tizzy, and yes.  Why?  Well, in my lifetime of family holiday tables, I've eaten Jello with cottage cheese, without cottage cheese, with fruit, without fruit, with nuts, without nuts, with whipped topping, without whipped topping, with cheese, without cheese, with grated carrots, without grated carrots... but today I ate jello in a way I have never tried.  I've eaten every available color of jello ever made concocted into some wiggly dessert or 'handed down from generation to generation' salad - grandma would be proud!  I have never eaten what I did today.

I ATE ORANGE JELLO WITH CHOPPED CELERY IN IT.  SERVED WITH THE OPTIONAL SIDE OF MAYO. 

YES, MAYO.

I PASSED ON THE MAYO.

Addendum

Please include: Grand Caymans, and St. Lucia. HA!

The Homebody

Tonight the Hub made a grave error.  He called me a 'homebody'; which, I am not. Homebodies have not traveled to Greece, Turkey, Jamaica, Mexico, France, and Italy.  They do not plan to go to Germany (was a slight possibility, now a bigger one!) next summer.  They do not travel in the US, even. They stay at home.  I'd like to be home more than I am, 'cause, frankly, I have a scrapbook room that needs some work, you know what I mean?  I have four children (my full time job), and the Hub (the OTHER full time job), six dwarf hamsters and two dogs;  I do not stay home!

All this came about because I went to pay my cell phone bill b/c Homeslice Hub hasn't done it, and they are now sending threatening messages via my phone;  once there, I discovered this nifty Blackberry phone that I thought would be truly GREAT for my birthday - I am obviously wrong (according to some sources, who shall remain unnamed for now, but we know who I am talking about). FYI: he has a tendency to pay bills once a month, and therefore, we have most on auto-draft as he tends to be late (oh, how I have had to rescue us with the gas/water/electric co. at my door b/c he forgot to pay the bill - yes, we have the money; he doesn't have the time - pokerstars is a demanding mistress; so is politics).

Back to the story: the Hub, I thought teasingly, told me I didn't need to hook up to the internet in my car - we have it right here at home.  We exchanged witty banter which came to an abrupt screeching halt when he said I was a homebody, and I didn't need to text or email while driving (OK, any idiot knows that is NOT a good idea... DUH!  And though I am exceptionally skilled, I value my life and that of my children - the Hub's insinuation that I would do that... absurd!)!  This he meant. The homebody thing.

Apparently, I don't look like just any idiot, but one that needs this explained. Thanks.  But, I can overlook that, because he's a fool in his own right, but the homebody comment... that means war.  

So, I got to thinking (about ways to off him in his sleep... one eye open, buddy, one eye open) about my role as a stay at home mom - one which I feel particularly blessed to have (seriously).  And I began to wonder if the fact that I often (always) put aside my own agenda for the good of my family and kids is really beneficial to them?  Do they see this self-sacrifice as a strength (like I do), or a weakness (like the Hub must)?  I always thought that with the Hub's inability to be available b/c of his job, that I had to schedule things either conveniently for him, or hire a sitter, or rely on help from the G's, that I was doing my job as a mom, even when it meant saying no to myself.

But am I teaching my kids, and the Hub that I don't matter?  Will they come away seeing that I love what I do, and give up things for them as a choice that I make from LOVE?  Or will they think I'm weak?  Will the Hub look at my sacrifice and think: "What about her dreams?"

 I think about my hopes and dreams, personal accomplishments and agendas, and I wonder if it's time to take them off the back burner.  Maybe it's time to turn up the heat on some of my projects, and see how the Hub handles it.  It requires much more from him than I think he understands, for me to want more for 'me'.  Less for 'him'.  

The question isn't whether or not I am a homebody; anyone with kids would tell you the days of June Cleaver are long gone, sister!   I do enjoy being at home, relaxing, being in 'my space' - and I should.  He enjoys it too!!!  The real QUESTION: can he take the heat?

Addendum

Apparently, for not going to the fair parade, I am sentenced to paying penance: I will now accompany not one, but TWO children to the Fair for a school tour - yea!!!!  But not to suffer alone, I have recruited the Hub to go to the third child's tour! HA!!!  And poor #4 is just along for the ride, so to speak (actually, little 'Barnacle Betty' will ride in the Hip Hammock, so she will literally ride.) SHe doesn't care as long as she's with me... all the time.  Gotta go rescue "BB" form the Masses...

What's Fair is Fair

THANK YOU, SISTER, FOR YOUR COMMENT!!!!  For all you other lazy-butt peeps, she's got our backs - yea!!!  Not to worry, I'm gonna start packin' (I wish for Paris, but no, the fair parade).

I realized just a little bit ago that we had two conflicting events: soccer practice and the fair parade!  What a colossal catastrophe!!!  I don't know how I'm gonna break this one to the kids, but I know which one is gettin' ditched... the fair parade!!

Blasphemy or wisdom?  Really folks, the parade is THE SAME every year, and so are the hardships involved!  We have to get there about an hour early, or parking is an issue, and feed the kiddies Mickey D's, which they'll get anyway, and wait for the stupid thing to start, and it's usually hot and humid, and today might drizzle a little (and my hair looks too Jaclyn Smith fab as I saw the Hair Guru today), and I'm going to opt for the no show!  ANd the route is on the main drag, so until they block the street off, we have to constantly keep suicide vigil lest one of them decide to dart into oncoming traffic.  AND there is the whole candy issue.

Parade walkers/ floaters throw candy. Lots of it. And the children madly scramble after it amongst other children with vehicles and tractors or horses slowly rolling by.  And there are always some kids that hog more than their share - last year it was MY kids, so proud - and they fight about it... should I go on?  Needless to say, parades aren't my favorite thing with kids.  And there's a Christmas parade, and a Valentine's Parade, and  Fourth of July Parade, and A 'Whatever ' Parade... OK, not so many, but we've got some seriously parade happy people around here!!!  And parade happy attenders, which reminds me of Sister O'Well, who will no doubt be on the front lines grabbin' candy with the best of 'em (and her grandson - she's teaching 'em younguns right!!!) 

But alas, heretic that I am, I will be on the other side of town at the soccer fields, happily smelling turkey poo!!!  I'll take the latter!

Baby Bullies

True Story.  Translate: I poop you not!  Today, #4 experienced her first encounter with a bully.  The older child, all of 18 months old, scowled at her and repeatedly tried to or did (fast little devil) snatch #4's butterfingers from her mouth.  I repeatedly told the little girl/monster,"No, no! That's not nice! She likes to suck on her fingers!", or "Be careful, you might hurt her arm!" And, the little offender tried to scratch her and smack her chubby leg - mind you, not while granny was looking, oh no, she wanted to hug the baby when granny was watching!

Finally, the grandma (where was mom?) saw her and scolded her and slapped her hand when she reached for #4 again.  I couldn't help but think to myself, who had very similar thoughts: what is wrong with your home life that you have to be so aggressive with a baby?  I decided it was time to get up out of my chair after the three or four minute assault, and return later for the child I had dropped off for an extracurricular activity.  That's right, this all happened in a few short minutes.  What is wrong with this poor little girl that she feels so angry?  Does she have siblings that pick on her, or parents that ignore her, or ... perhaps ... is she jealous of #4's obvious natural beauty????

I couldn't even begin to speculate, but I'm gambling jealousy is in the picture somewhere!  I couldn't believe this blatant display of aggression from a child so young towards another child she doesn't even know.  #1 expressed anger towards #2 when he was an infant, but she was really unhappy that he'd come along and challenged her position (we are still trying to help her understand that the world doesn't revolve around her - shock!)  But this was sibling rivalry; today's episode of bullying was different.  I'm sure there is psycho-babble to explain what happened, but I can tell you what will happen... I will not let this little vile, evil critter ( OK, that's a somewhat strong language, I admit) near my beautiful angel again!

Now, Me and Myself want to point out that it is really inappropriate that I've taken this story and manipulated it into discussing #4's unbelievably breathtaking beauty which transcends all cultures and time, and I would like to apologize for that sometime, just not now!  In fact, I'm pleased with how this has taken a turn from a rather sad, shocking tale of rural infant gang warfare to 'thinking on things that are good, lovely, true,...' (I would quote the scripture from the Word, but I'd have to stop and look it up).

Oh, and I called the Impact Martial Arts instructor and set up a private lesson for #4; we shouldn't have this problem again!!!

On the Start of Soccer Season

Aaaahhhh, the start of soccer season!  This will be our third season (which is actually fall and spring), and I really look forward to stripping my vocal cords at my 7 year-olds' games.  They are seriously fun!!!!  And my 4 year-olds' games will progress from 'bunch' ball, to the free-for-all kickfest!  Nothing like spending a Saturday morning inhaling the nearby turkey farms' offal  along with my morning Diet Coke!  I mean, you haven't lived until you've frozen your keester in the porta-potty in November relieving your bladder!!!!

And nothing smells as good as good ol' soccer field dirt... which means that my children will be forced to strip nekkid before they get into my nice new Platinum Level Vehicle.  But talk about scrapbook opportunities!  

So, I packed the kiddies 2 & 3 off to soccer practice with the Hub, and await the funfest of an extra dance class for #1, as she is going to dance at her dance school's exhibition at the Baxter County Fair, aka the Baxter County Freakfest.   Yep, fall is here, and the Fair is near!!!

I wouldn't miss the fair for the world!  Where else can one go to catch up on the latest in animal husbandry, and the experience known as "the variables of genetics".  Friday and Saturday nights are the best, but the real freaky people come out after dark, so stay at least 30 minutes after the sun sets; this is really telling, isn't it?  They only come out after dark?  Get it?????

I've always wondered why the tattoo parlors/ studios/whatever are so popular here.  Now I know.  ANd it is really only a select group that falls into the freaky category (and having a tattoo does not a freak make - plenty of normal folks have 'em too) and these folks have an abundance of 'tatts', and piercings, and chains... with the piercings, and mohawks and other spiked hair-do's.  ANd here is where I digress...

 The mid to late eighties spawned the punk look which evolved to goth with all its black, spikes, and mohawks, which then evolved into grunge, which then moved to alternative, and appears to be cycling back, this based on latest fashion magazines (hint: if it was BAD to begin with, why go back? Were leg-warmers ever really a good fashion choice?).  So, I look at all these freaky folks and think not how far out and wild they are, but how unimaginative and retro... can't they come up with something NEW?????

I am so BORED with spikes and chains and black and piercings and nipple rings (the last one was just to see if you were paying attention!)!!!!!

I admit I have been tempted in the past to get a tatt, but I imagined 1) the pain (no thanks), 2) what it would look like when I am old and wrinkly (NOOOO thanks!).  What are these kids gonna do when they hit their eighties and they have hair growing out of their nose piercing? Or they have to trim the hair in and around the brow ring?  What is they have crazy eyebrows and you can't even see the ring? What a waste!!!!  And  think about a SAGGY tattoo from weight gain, or one with stretch marks (from pregnancy or beer, or both).  

And just ponder the mental anguish of some poor healthcare worker when they change your depends and see a withered old teddy bear winking back at them.  Nice.  No, I'm all for fashion forward, not backwards; I'll pass on the 'Material Girl' look and leg-warmers - I'd rather be cold at the soccer field.

On the Subject of Putting the Masses to Bed

My apologies for yesterday's venting - THe Hub addressed the situation with the cyber-bully Superior Dude, and all is peaceful in Cyber Land once again.  No more Katie Bashing, unless dully warranted - and we all know there are plenty of valid opportunities!!!!

So, tonight I have whatever nasty virus the Masses have sooooo lovingly shared with me, and pretty much feel like walked on ground in eaten by worms horse poop.  And very snotty.  In fact, I question how much snot the human body can produce.  Surely, I've reached max capacity!  I'm sportin' the raw red spot at the base of the nares ... nice!

And this is why I want the Masses to GO TO BED!  I took some cold medicine (nighttime formula), and I feel gooooood!!!  I want to enjoy my legal cold-medicine high in peace - besides, I was having a nice conversation with ME, Myself, and I, and we were really get somewhere with the whole solve world hunger thing.  But, #3 has come upstairs 4 times now, for various lame, made-up reasons, and frankly, I'm about to lock the basement door and plug my ears to block out the screaming!  I'd pay serious money to go to bed this early!  I'd pay even more to have some chocie - milk and a show and then go to a nice cozy bed, get kissed on the head and have someone turn out the lights, and say 'nightie-night'!!!

Isn' t it ironic how we fight sleep as infants and children, avoid it as adolescents and twenties, and then when we can't have any b/c of having babies, we crave it like chocolate and Diet Coke (oh, you know you do!) , which is how we get hooked on chocolate and Diet Coke!  Are we hard wired this way, or is this some type of evolutionary mutation (this has nothing to do with whether or not you believe in evolution or Creationism... I'm talking nature vs. nurture here)?

Are we trying to catch up on all the sleep we missed during the first part of our lives?  Is THAT why I am sooooo tired?  Too many late nights?  Brings new meaning to the phrase: "Paying for your raising"!  Isn't anyone doing any research on this subject?  I'd sign up as a sleep test subject - I'll sleep a lot and let ya know how I feel in the morning!  Where do I report for duty?

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz....

On the Subject of the Hub's Email

well, before I elaborate, let me give you an FYI: the doggie diaper is working nicely.  we had the new carpet put in today, and I employed said diaper, and have thus far experienced success!  It has been 3 hours 27 minutes, and 43, no 44 seconds!!!!!  Yippee!  No pee - and doggie still alive - win- win for both of us!

So, on to our more pressing topic, which wasn't a topic until recently (like 4 minutes ago).  It seems that the age-old ritualistic female-bashing is still practiced, especially amongst our more cro-mag-man species!  I tend to open most of the email, as this is a family computer, and the Hub has proven in the past to only tell me things that he and the Big Names cook up until the last minute, which does tend to irritate me b/c I need a little 'plan' time.  Anyway, I read a nice "Katie Bash" in one of them, relating to something years ago (I told him he couldn't go on a trip with the boys b/c he had been several places already that year for work or sport), and this fella makes some snide comment about it - my how hard I am laughing.  He fails to see the responsibility-free life he leads clearly through his superior-colored lenses: he and his spouse, who won't take his surname, have chosen not  to have children, mainly because she doesn't want any.  Fine.  I think she is perfectly capable of deciding whether she wants to be a parent; heaven knows that more people ought to make that choice - and some days I think I am not the best parent I could be!  But, we have four children; the Hub has a busy practice; and he also has a myriad of time consuming hobbies.  I have the right to say,"hey, enough fun for just you, Buddy! Stay home and enjoy your family so we can enjoy you!"  but according to Superior Dude, I am to fault.  Now, I have my faults, but the Hub will tell you that telling him he can't go do things is not really one of them.  I'm good with him fishing, or golfing, or a little road trip with the boys, but don't think you get 'em all in one month!!!!! ( In my defense, he had been gone for 5 weeks out of 6 1/2 months; we had three little kids, and that is a lot for them,... and me.)

So, I hope Superior dude feels so much better about himself for 'bashing' me.  I feel pretty much the same, thank you very much.  Except it doesn't really do much to endear Superior Dude, and his cronies, to me; just not feelin' the love.  I also, wish I didn't feel like I had to defend myself to him or anyone else.  But this is one time I doubt the Hub is gonna rush in with his guns a blazin', so to speak.  Funny, Superior Dude isn't whalin' on Jellyfish, who attends NONE of their functions, b/c of the BLack Widow (she hates all Jellyfishes' family and friends).  His lenses must be awfully foggy!!!!

So, (here it comes, another cosmically enlightening message), I don't think we should have to justify our actions on the best behalf of our families to anyone, and I think others ought to take into account that they haven't walked in my moccasins and evaluate our behavior with that in mind... OR JUST FRANKLY BUTT OUT!!!  And , so I should evaluate the behavior of others with the same open mind, and understand that there are circumstances beyond my knowledge causing their behavior and choices.

Food for thought.  Oh, THe Hub wants me to stop reading his email; he'll have to prove himself first.  Or better yet, why not stand up for me and tell the homies WHY I sometimes (VERY RARELY) veto his trips - and I said he could go on the one this past August, but homeslice couldn't work his schedule out. That is officially NOT MY FAULT!

He's got some choices... Door #1, or Door #2?  (tick tock, tick tock...)

We're All a Bunch of Hypocrits

We are. It's true. To some degree, we're all in this boat together... or are we?  I think some folks knowingly or unknowingly, however the case may be, sail their own cruise liners of contradiction.  I'd like to think mine is more of a dingy, but I'm sure I'm the captain of another cruise liner of some sort, or even two!!! So, I'm not without sin either... this I know; no need to start commenting NOW in order to enlighten me as to my particular sins... one by one I'm sure... I have a sister for that, thank you very much!

The Hub spoke with the Jellyfish last night, and the latter mentioned watching the Olympic events, and his usual soccer games, on the computer, as the Black Widow will not allow them to own a TV;  apparently this form of informative viewing (or recreational - the choice is yours - THERE IS AN 'OFF' BUTTON, ya know!) is "beneath her",... either that or she wants to live under a rock!  She'd rather read papers on her computer, about three daily - I don't know about you, but who the heck has time for that?  Thirty minutes of CNN, and I'm good for the day - I know who bombed who, who married/divorced who, who' s threatening to bomb who, and what the world thinks/ is doing about it; plus, I get local weather and a little local news - works for me.  

So, I really found the fact that they WATCH MOVIES, and SPORTING EVENTS, and WORLD EVENTS (like political events) on their computer, yet THe BW sees it as "acceptable", SOOOOO HYPOCRITICAL!!!!!!!!!!!  I'd like to therefore, make the following announcement.

Attention Black Widow and Jellyfish:

YOU ARE NOT BETTER THAN THE REST OF US!  BECAUSE YOU CAN AND DO USE YOUR COMPUTER TO ACCESS THE SAME VIEWING LINE-UP AS THE REST OF US CAN WITH CABLE, YOU ARE EFFECTIVELY EMPLOYING YOUR COMPUTER AS A (GASP!) TELEVISION!!!

IT COUNTS, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!!!!!!!!!!!!!

YOU WATCH TELEVISION - NAH NAH NAH NAH POOH-POOH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So stop acting like the rest of us are poor mindless amoebas and ADMIT IT, you bunch of Pansies!!!!!!!!  You watch TV!!!!!!  AND YOU LOVE IT!!!!  You probably want to own your own station so you can brain wash the rest of us into thinking that we don't watch TV, too!!!!!!!!!!!

Golly, I feel better!!!!  Seriously, do these people think they are fooling us? Themselves, maybe, but I find their condescension with regards to this/ and everything, a thin, veiled  attempt to boost self-esteem: the ol' "I'm better than you because...".  And aren't we all guilty of that?  I know, I said I wouldn't use this blog to write poignant essays that might change your life (this would be the example of the ol' " I think I am better that you because I obviously am...." J/K!!!), and most likely, honestly, it won't! But it has made me think about how I can change myself and stop the whole, "I'm better than you..." because we all have our quirks (yes, I do have more than the average bear).  

For example, I know folks that won't drink or dance or curse or skip a day of church because of the brand of religion they subscribe to, but they'll gossip like a bluebird in springtime!!!  And they look down on me, and probably talk about me too, because I make mistakes!  They have to drive the right car in the right jeans and keep up appearances - heck, I'm good in The Minivan, in whatever jeans I can zip that day and I wear sunglasses so that no one knows who I am because I probably didn't finish my make-up (do I hear an AMEN?)!!!!!! I see NO WRONG in a good boogie, or a dry Chardonnay, and YES! I do curse sometimes - but I really try not to as the BIble says it's offensive to God;  but it also says I'm sinful - SURPRISED????  That means that I too will gossip (or fail to use correct punctuation in said poignant essay)!  So, I am no better  because I get that it isn't about keeping score but about just running the race AGAINST MYSELF and keeping my eye on the finish line.  I cannot lord that over those that keep score, because I do that , too.

And I watch some TV (though I think TiVo and the cell phone - which they can watch TV on too! - are among some of our greater inventions),... AND SO DO THEY! SO THERE!

There endeth the lesson, Grasshopper!

On the Subject of my Heredity

Today I had a SHOCKING discovery:  My father is a redneck!!!!  Lo, all these many years, I thought he was simply born in a small country Texas town, and, realizing he was a misfit, rose above the dirt backroads to become a respected US Gov't Lawyer (yes, lawyers can be respected, sometimes), living in the Big City of Fort Worth with his intelligent, beautiful Junior League wife (she was the daughter of a small town farmer... hmmmm....).  I was sooooo wrong!

I received an email today from DOD (dear ol' Dad), and in reply he shared some details from his childhood most alarming: skunk spraying, cow milking, hog raising, chicken feeding, coon hunting (complete with coon hounds), FFA membership,... oh, the list goes on!!!!

Now, I'd heard the hog raising stories, and the FFA membership, but never with the amount of pride echoing in his voice, the nostalgic tears brimming in his eyes, no doubt!  I thought he went to the ballet/symphony/theatre because he loved it - no, it's all a sham!!!!!!!  He's a redneck who after 75 years has steadfastly REFUSED TO BUY A FOREIGN CAR (except a few years with a lemon Mercedes for Mom, which made up his mind for all eternity - so I thought - that any motor vehicle conceptualized on another continent was evil and probably made by the Taliban)  NOW DRIVES A BRIGHT YELLOW NISSAN XTERRA!!!!!!  

THIS IS NOT THE FATHER WHO RAISED ME!  APPARENTLY , AGE HAS BROUGHT SENILITY AND IT ISN'T GOING TO BE PRETTY!!!!!!!!!

He's spiraled quickly, as the car was a recent purchase.  Prior to, he's drivena firetruck red Ford with fondness and pride.  Where was this man when I was growing up?  The Nana wants a Lexus, and he said he would rather BUY HER A TOYOTA!!!!  It's like comparing Pink Lady apples with Braeburn - what's the difference!!!!! They're Both apples!!!!

I'm definitely going to need that therapy now - he is no longer the stubborn opinionated man he once was!  He's willing to yield a little, maybe a lot, and venture into the world of foreign vehicles - this from the man who ridiculed me when I bought a little Honda sports coupe years ago (oh, long since traded in for the Sterling transportation choice of all mothers, the Minivan!).  I could have used a little flexability YEARS ago when I wanted to apply to more than one college (not everyone Wants to go to Baylor).  But that's in the past, this is the future.

And these are uncharted waters, the open road, the high seas!  Did I mention that I get car and seasick?

No comment?

What? Cat got your tongue? Speechless? HA! I know you gals, and you ain't speechless, that's for sure!  So, tonight, I decided to check the site, and see what type of snarky replies and witty comments you have for me, and what was I greeted with?  Cyber-silence.  It sounds like this:"           ", only a lot longer, and quieter (lonely, I'm so lonely....).  Seriously.  I provide a forum for all your fodder, and what do I get in thanks?  "         ". What do you have to say for yourselves?  Nothing?  I thought so!  All these opinions and ideas, rotting inside the prisons of your mind - OK, that was a little dramatic, but it could be true!  So, start talkin', dang it!  Be funny! Be brilliant! Be YOU! (Now, don't you feel inspired?)  Start typing. I'll be checking tomorrow.  This assignment is due by the end of the week.  Hop to it.  And I'll KNOW if you slack off and procrastinate, Missy!!!

NOW!!!

Another Addendum

We also add chiggerfest to tickfest, and we are totally infested; way to go Hub!  He came home with some remedies for this whole problem: 1) apply baby oil to skin prior to rolling in ticks and chiggers and basically inviting them to feast on your live flesh 2) if they attack, which they will, use hairspray to suffocate them!  Now, can't you see a whole posse of boyscouts carrying baby oil and hairspray into the woods??????  How and WHY did someone figure this out????? There's gotta be more to this story....

Addendum

I forgot to mention that I also ordered the body to with the panties! 'Yeah' for me!!!!!

More and More panties

Wow! There may not be any comments on this site, but you gals and the Hair Guru (if you are reading, which you should be), have a lot to say about the panties!!!  I've had phone calls and emails, and it appears our undergarments are quite the hot topic, and I don't mean just with out significant others!

You'll be happy to know that I purchased some new panties today in the CORRECT size and a variety of eye-pleasing colors, and that they will be delivered soon.  From where? Well, I felt like I was going to a porn site once I got there b/c of all the mostly naked, provocatively posed anorexic air-brushed (AMEN!!!!) barely adolescent girls modeling their undergarments and such (I use this term loosely).  I went to Vicky's, of course, and I do believe that I may have developed a bit of prudishness - I was a little offended by how much flesh I saw proudly and freely displayed! What ever happened to the power of suggestion and a healthy imagination? This is definitely not a site I want the Hub going to - I'll buy my own hot'n heavy duds, thank you very much!!!  

Seriously, does it stretch the mind so much to conjure uses for some lacey fabric about 2 inches square?  And what about the average female body prancing around in this 2 square inches of fabric, compared to the mental image of the perfect 'I-haven't-eaten-since-Clinton-was-in-office' body with the face of an 18 y/o angel?  I would like to see a real woman that's had several kids (a few by C-section) in this stuff, so I can get an ACCURATE picture of how good or bad I will look. I don't think that's asking too much.  If I dare be so bold, I demand it!!!

So, I want to start a grass roots movement ! Oh, I think I just did - we need to get the message out that we want real women in real advertising! Normal, healthy gals with zest for life and the desire to wear great panties!  So, girls, pick your style, pick your color, pick your place! 

FYI: as the founder of this grass roots movement, I am under no obligation to model panties, undies, or skivvies, nor am I legally responsible for anyone who chooses to do so on behalf of this movement. All restrictions apply.