tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-244804592012-02-16T14:36:00.456-05:00Trying to figure out how to make a Blogger template. And failing.Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.comBlogger3531100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-68825723614288833812007-05-31T12:33:00.000-05:002007-05-31T19:26:33.935-05:00

Well, folks, I've decided to up and move my blog. But I'm not sure if I like the new place or not. It's very big and complicated, and I feel very small and simple while I'm there. But go visit and tell me what you think: http://grinningellie.wordpress.com

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-72972776884791942192007-05-31T05:56:00.000-05:002007-05-31T06:05:51.144-05:00

Something seems to be out of whack with my comments. (Oh, isn't that the truth!) No, let me say that differently, something is out of whack, not with the comments I write, but with the comments I receive on my blog. Some come through immediately and I publish them as soon as I see them, and others don't show up until the next day. And it irritates me. However, having no earthly idea what I'm

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-68035127087573525152007-05-30T07:44:00.000-05:002007-05-30T08:07:52.107-05:00

Lately I've been overcome with an inexplicable desire to sleep. And sleep, and sleep, and sleep. But not in a depressed, I'm going to hide in my bed because I can't face the world kind of way, but more because I'm just plain exhausted at the end of the day and morning always comes an hour or two too early. It's not a dull kind of lethargy, it's a bone weary tired. The kind you get after a long

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-32046931347354950422007-05-29T11:39:00.000-05:002007-05-29T11:52:23.747-05:00

*actually, it was away from the sunset, but they're riding all the same.

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-29504948256732339302007-05-28T09:23:00.001-05:002007-05-28T09:23:33.376-05:00

Dear McDonald's,First of all, thank you so very much for the Happy Meal. I mean, who would have ever thought that putting the very same food the children would not be very enthusiastic about eating at home into a box with a cheap toy would mean wonders to a child and have them screaming for McDonald's every time they pass one? (Which, I might add, we do every five minutes or so because they are

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-87823089581521909302007-05-26T05:27:00.000-05:002007-05-26T05:32:25.651-05:00

Have you read this article: How Not To Talk To Your Kids?It's a long read, but very, very worth it. Go ahead and read it, I'll wait here.Go.When I first started to read the article, I was getting the impression that I wasn't supposed to praise my children, that I should give more constructive criticism, and I was worried about making them feel like they could never please their mother. Then I

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-75181305842675816862007-05-24T20:01:00.001-05:002007-05-25T05:21:58.387-05:00

You guys, I really shouldn't have access to something like YouTube. I mean, I have much better things to do with my time than watch videos of really useless, senseless things, but I still can't seem to tear myself away. So to heck with better things, I'm going to spend all of my time watching videos on YouTube. Who's with me?After the success of yesterday's misheard lyric video, (at least one

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-13021373517809316942007-05-24T09:57:00.000-05:002007-05-24T10:08:59.759-05:00

I came across this video while searching for the lyrics of that Fall Out Boy song - the one about the arms race or something or other. (Before I knew the title, I thought they were saying "dead horse race.") I'm not a big fan of the song, but it gets stuck in my head. In fact, I am not a fan of Fall Out Boy in general.* I just don't get it. And seeing that one guy (Pete Whatshisname) plastered

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-64439975986068874042007-05-23T09:03:00.000-05:002007-05-23T09:13:04.514-05:00

So far 32 is pretty darn nice. I've been spoiled rotten by friends and family, and that always makes a day even better. B took the kids shopping last night for a birthday gift for me, and they ended up giving it to me last night as an early present. I think he wasn't too confident that the kids would manage to keep the present a secret. (Also, I think he was excited.) They got me an MP3 player

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-69504780234963396002007-05-22T05:36:00.000-05:002007-05-22T09:28:40.789-05:00

I feel like it's been a while since I've had time to sit down at the computer and do more than check the weather (and various gossip sites, of course.) I'm woefully behind on my email and, also, my blog. It's been what, a few days? *gasp*We've been busy around here. We haven't been doing anything important, I mean, there's no cure for cancer here at our house, but busy all the same. The weather

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-31030511503582088222007-05-18T11:44:00.000-05:002007-05-18T11:53:51.382-05:00

After my post yesterday, my husband couldn't help but wonder if I had finally tripped over the thin line I've been teetering on right into full blown crazy. I told him not to worry, that I'm not quite there yet. And I feel like I should just tell y'all that I don't normally find stuff like that funny. I don't usually laugh out loud at pictures of cats with bad captions on them. But for some

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-5694323555445743172007-05-17T09:33:00.000-05:002007-05-17T09:59:08.371-05:00

I'm not sure what it says about me that I've been following this saga - it's been cataloged at that site, but you can search lolrus (on Blingo!) and see it on icanhascheezburger.com. And OMG it's hilarious! And teh catz, OMG teh catz!Okay, so maybe you don't think it's so hilarious.(Or maybe you do!)

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-78678278431501836742007-05-17T08:59:00.000-05:002007-05-17T09:01:39.055-05:00

"Mommy, you are skinny.""You know, you've always been my favorite, son."But I think he may have to go have his eyes checked. Soon.

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-16058647779126312972007-05-16T10:18:00.000-05:002007-05-16T11:29:35.943-05:00

My son has been having a hard time at school lately. Not with his school work, he seems to be doing well with that, but with another student. When he came home yesterday and told me that he was in trouble, I was so mad. I tried to remain calm and talk it out with him and get to the root of the situation, but all I managed to do was stammer out some sort of punishment - removing the Xbox and

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-40079473584306521722007-05-14T16:11:00.000-05:002007-05-14T16:43:19.972-05:00

While the hotel we stayed at had many a beautiful thing (seven or more restaurants, two pools, waterfalls, fountains, ballrooms, statues, bellhops in nice white uniforms...,) they did not have a battery for my camera. So I don't have any pictures of it. (Which, by the way, may be a good thing. I think I would have embarrassed myself by taking pictures of all those things while exclaiming, "Look!

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-54078087331913236432007-05-14T07:23:00.000-05:002007-05-14T16:11:34.032-05:00

I hope you had a happy Mother's Day. And if you're not a mother, I still hope you had a happy day. Happy days all around! I had a wonderful day. I spent it surrounded by family, watching the kids play with their cousins and just generally relaxing. It's was the perfect kind of day.Now if you'll excuse me, I have the day off today - woohoo! for days off - and I'm going to spend it browsing around

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-6481167513014654392007-05-11T11:55:00.000-05:002007-05-11T11:58:59.930-05:00

We're headed out of town tonight for an over night trip. My husband reserved us a room at a ridiculously nice hotel in a town not too far from here. We're not going to do anything special, just hang out in a different town. And I'm so excited!! Sometimes the need to get out of town is so strong...I still don't have a battery for my camera. Need to get right on that.Have a good weekend!

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-3977018158327585862007-05-10T11:51:00.000-05:002007-05-10T12:12:27.159-05:00

I went to Target yesterday to buy a new battery for my camera*. And while I was there, I was in the swim aisle picking out kickboards for the kids when I heard, "Will you do me a favor and bring me the pink one?" Sure, I thought, but I'm holding a blue one and a purple one. Which one do you think is pink? I looked up at the person who wanted me to bring the non-existent pink kickboard to them

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-56325287473011584382007-05-09T07:26:00.000-05:002007-05-09T07:29:17.730-05:00

A little boy was over at our house and had a toy that he pretended to be a ticket puncher. He was punching tickets for people to ride on his imaginary train. As he took each person's ticket, he called them by the name that was "written" on the imaginary tickets. "Thank you, Mr. Stinky Pants." "Yours says you are Miss Stinky Socks." Etc...My daughter was getting a little tired of all the "rude

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-19669959182004755842007-05-08T09:38:00.000-05:002007-05-08T09:41:58.340-05:00

I just bought a chocolate orange.And I plan to eat the entire thing all by myself.That's what kind of morning I'm having.

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-90081584001466404272007-05-07T08:59:00.000-05:002007-05-07T09:08:15.210-05:00

I haven't posted lately because I've been waiting for inspiration to hit - I didn't want to post the same old, same old - and I have yet to be inspired. In fact, lately I have been hit with a very big bought of restlessness and have not been able to sit down and concentrate of much of anything. I want to be doing something else, but what, I'm not exactly sure.We had a busy weekend, and maybe

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-50425459467716102982007-05-03T11:59:00.000-05:002007-05-03T13:16:34.868-05:00

My mind is racing around in several different directions today. And while none of those directions is really important in the whole scheme of things (like world peace or saving the environment,) I thought I'd share. Because y'all know how much I like to share. (Unless we're talking chocolate, in which case sharing time would be over. Because I never said I was selfless.)--------------------------

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-29740225429481066912007-05-02T10:53:00.000-05:002007-05-02T11:04:05.024-05:00

Hey guys, I am tired. T-I-R-E-D. I got up last night with my stomach growling and my head feeling very hurt-y and went downstairs to get something to eat. I ended up eating three peanut butter crackers and going back to sleep on the couch. Also, my husband's CPAP mask (for his sleep apnea) had sprung a leak and no amount of nudging him could get him to wake up enough to re-situate the mask and

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-33738284021016267762007-05-01T08:58:00.000-05:002007-05-01T09:10:09.947-05:00

The nice weather has brought out the desire to "beautify" the outside of my house. I love the houses that have beautiful flowers growing in the yard and hanging baskets with lots of blossoms overflowing over the edge. The only problem is, I have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to gardening.This weekend we planted some daylilies. And even though the name should have been a big clue, I didn't

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-14071945885817866842007-04-30T11:27:00.000-05:002007-04-30T11:41:43.846-05:00

Somewhere along the way I picked up the germs that have led to this horrid, horrid cold. On Thursday I was taking my son to Tae Kwon Do and thought that maybe my allergies were getting worse. I felt that little tickle at the back of my throat, and my nose was starting to get stuffy. By Friday afternoon, I realized it wasn't allergies, but a damn cold. And the damn cold is still here. Damn

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-64929889932636111852007-04-26T12:10:00.000-05:002007-04-26T12:32:19.957-05:00

Today I'm having a hard time with one of the children I babysit. This child and I have gone around and around several times, and some days it just gets to the point where I begin to think to myself, why am I doing this again?My job is taking care of these children. There are two of them - siblings - and it is enjoyable being able to care for kids here in my home. And while I know that because

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-29487403630580751022007-04-25T07:36:00.000-05:002007-04-25T10:50:43.431-05:00

Okay, guys, I have some things to tell you. My quest for a subject has been successful, and it wasn't any of my doing. The problem is, I don't even know where to start. So I guess I'll go in chronological order (?) I'm really not sure...Last night was the First Grade Musical entitled "The Cheese Stands Alone" at my son's school. He was a duck, and, no, we don't have any pictures. because we're

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-26681351599903821582007-04-24T12:14:00.000-05:002007-04-24T12:37:22.421-05:00

My husband has informed me that is my responsibility, nay duty, to post here often. He has called me a couple of times in the last two days to make sure I am still alive and well. Because if I haven't posted, then that must mean somethings wrong, right? Well, worry not my friends. I'm not sick or out of town. I'm just lazy.Today I went shopping for some new capri pants. The weather here is hot,

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-79210687390707362222007-04-20T07:35:00.000-05:002007-04-20T08:00:43.586-05:00

Last night we took the kids to watch the local Minor League Baseball team. My son was especially excited. He kept saying how much he "loved football" and how he couldn't wait to see the "football game." It was so glaringly obvious that he really doesn't care about the technicalities in sports; technicalities like what the sports are called and all that nonsense. He kept asking when halftime

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-81570478696749891742007-04-19T09:16:00.000-05:002007-04-19T09:21:54.032-05:00

Have you seen this yet?When I first watched it, I sat there stunned for a few minutes because I couldn't believe what the little girl was saying. So be warned, there's a little girl and profanity. And know that I am in NO WAY ADVOCATING teaching children to cuss!!! That being said, it's frickin' hilarious! "I'm just buzzed." Ha ha HA!

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-80770615023501260122007-04-18T07:26:00.000-05:002007-04-18T07:32:34.763-05:00

There is this perfume that I have wanted for a very long time. I got a free sample once when I ordered something mundane like soap - or was it lotion? - from Sephora. I haven't bought myself any because it just feels like a luxury I can do without. But someday...I don't normally go for large bag/purses, but as any mother knows, they are sometimes necessary. I've been eying this one in particular.

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-18795474143834720052007-04-17T09:29:00.000-05:002007-04-17T09:42:55.546-05:00

We were without power for a good deal of yesterday. There were strong winds, and by strong winds I mean strong enough to take out power for much of the state. When I called the electric company to report my outage and bemoaned the hours they predicted it would take to get things up and running again, they all but laughed at me. But I tell you, I'd like to see them try and explain to a 4 year old

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-4671719494241203192007-04-13T13:27:00.000-05:002007-04-13T20:59:41.421-05:00

My friend Sara suggested that I do a post with links to some pretty things because my birthday is next month - May 23, if you must know - and she would like an idea of what to get for me. I thought that was a great idea. Not because I'm trolling for birthday gifts (necessarily,) but more because I've been doing some online window-shopping and found some things I'd like to share.But when I started

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-70564271194464384802007-04-13T08:19:00.000-05:002007-04-13T08:29:22.030-05:00

My neighbor bought me a necklace as a thank you for a favor I did for her. It is really beautiful, and above and beyond a simple thank you. I was really touched that she bought it for me. And while I don't usually wear jewelry, I decided to wear this necklace. I've worn it twice now and realized that I really like wearing it.I'm not sure at what point I stopped wearing things like necklaces. It

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-37115528256811989642007-04-12T10:46:00.000-05:002007-04-12T10:59:45.546-05:00

There's a downside to teaching the kids how to navigate through certain web sites: One of them is constantly wanting to play on the computer. Which, really, is a good thing when there are three kids who may not want to play the same thing at the same time. One of them can play solo for a while. And throw in a little bit of learning and reading while they're on the computer, and it's a good

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-1400647027374828942007-04-11T07:59:00.000-05:002007-04-11T08:19:20.282-05:00

We live in a place that has a lot of affluent people. A lot of them. Much to my dismay, I have fallen into a how do they do it? rut and have found myself wondering how I, too, can have as much as they do.I am not the type of person who covets others' things (usually.) I am not defined by what I have and what I can show others. I don't need to know that my purse, for example, is better that yours,

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-29494642982106758802007-04-10T06:31:00.000-05:002007-04-11T16:52:04.172-05:00

Last weekend we went and bought the kids a motorcycle helmet so they can ride around the neighborhood on the back of B's motorcycle. I did not get one, however, because it will be a cold day in you-know-where before you find me on the back of that thing. But the kids, however, love it. It gives me several heart attacks and a couple of strokes to see them going down the street with nothing but

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-79460152353497071312007-04-09T07:05:00.000-05:002007-04-09T07:53:54.922-05:00

We were in the middle of trying to tell my son why he may not want to go insert himself in a game of basketball going on with the "big boys" across the street when he protested by saying, "We practice playing in PE at school and once I got it in the score-hole!" And that right there just put big flashing neon lights around the reason why we didn't think he should go try and play. Because getting

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-1087780856083155552007-04-05T12:54:00.000-05:002007-04-05T13:12:36.805-05:00

Today the weather has taken a break from the heat and brought out the kind of day that makes me want to live outside. It is cool and breezy, yet sunny with blue skies. It is beautiful. Also, it makes me want to go away somewhere and get away from my daily life and all of the things daily life entails.I was reading Locked Rooms by Laurie R. King, and the main character was away at a lake house,

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-66311311334727083222007-04-04T12:06:00.001-05:002007-04-04T12:06:50.845-05:00

In my mind, there are two types of people: the talkers and the listeners. I find myself firmly rooted in the listeners side. I cannot make conversation with people to save my life. That is, unless I'm conversing with a talker. Then, and only then, I can be considered a good conversationalist. Because all that's required is for me to listen and interject my opinion here and there. But if it's me

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-21902303632220571722007-04-03T13:16:00.000-05:002007-04-03T15:34:17.908-05:00

Last night my son declared that there actually is an animal called a Pikachu. And when my husband said, "No, no there isn't," he got very upset. He said, "Yes there is! It's got a long tail and eyes that see in the dark. It's called a Pikachu." And my husband, not wanting to argue the point with a boy who so clearly saw himself as in the right, escaped to the bathroom. At which point the boy came

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-86394330712875993772007-04-02T07:56:00.000-05:002007-04-02T07:57:54.878-05:00

I read this post and knew I had to write a little something.When my husband, B, and I met, I was fairly thin. I had always been fairly thin. I was 5'2" and my weight always hovered around 100 and 120 pounds. Not stick thin, but thin all the same. When we began dating I was probably at one of my thinnest points, even though I thought I was not thin enough.That was always the case for me; I thought

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-7592942828340621922007-04-01T08:17:00.000-05:002007-04-01T08:24:21.884-05:00

New look...what do you think?My husband calls this color Carolina Blue, for University of North Carolina - whom he hates - and I call it Robin's Egg Blue. Whichever it is, I think I like it. But tell me, does it give you a headache? Hard to read? Hate the color? Let me know!------------------------------Thanks to those of you who joined Blingo! I wish you luck and hope that you win something

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-25546462948983178142007-03-30T10:18:00.000-05:002007-03-30T10:27:19.401-05:00

Do you use Blingo?Do you know what Blingo is?If you use it, good for you. If you don't even know what it is, well, let me tell you. It's a search engine. Powered by Google (and we all know what Google is, right?)Blingo is different than Google in that every time you use it you get a chance to win something. That's right, you can win something. So far I've only won free movie tickets, not

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-39905427931683140082007-03-29T09:36:00.000-05:002007-03-29T09:50:54.393-05:00

This weekend is the annual Spring Fling here at the kids' elementary school. It's a fundraiser put on by the PTA (or some-such like that.) It has a couple of blow-up bouncy thingies and each classroom has a "booth" that the parents volunteer to man for half hour time periods. (They call them booths, but they are mostly just long tables set up with games and things like that.) Let me go on the

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-45508257488424802832007-03-28T07:34:00.000-05:002007-03-28T07:41:12.666-05:00

Because I am in the throes of allergy-related hell, I give you pictures (!) and not much else. But they're of the kids (!) and guineas (!) so try to contain yourselves and check back with me tomorrow.

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-51551649041677184212007-03-27T11:26:00.000-05:002007-03-27T11:50:17.711-05:00

So...You know my husband bought a new motorcycle. And I was okay with it. I mean, it's not like he just came home with it one day and surprised me. We had gone to look at them and he had asked me what I thought. I was kept abreast of all of his motorcycle shopping actions. Yet still it came as almost a shock to me that he actually bought it.I was very hesitant about spending the money. And

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-40912518828499182142007-03-26T09:37:00.000-05:002007-03-26T09:49:50.304-05:00

Today has totally kicked my a**. And it's not even lunch time yet.How does taking care of four stuffy, coughing, crabby children sound? Oh, and add diarrhea to the mix for the youngest. Sound fun? Exciting? If so, you need to get yourself on over to my house. And then I will promptly take myself far, far away from my house.I woke up this morning in a lovely mood. We had rearranged our

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-23590362573290772812007-03-23T07:40:00.000-05:002007-03-23T08:01:04.539-05:00

It's Friday! I've been looking forward to this weekend for a very long time now. (All week, in fact.) And it's been a looooong week. Last weekend my husband was at his motorcycle safety class for the entire weekend, so it never really felt like we had time off together. And while I did enjoy - oh how I enjoyed it - the time with my kids, it felt strange to be out without B there too. So it's been

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-55069991686614150852007-03-21T07:25:00.000-05:002007-03-21T07:42:31.555-05:00

My daughter has the ability to drive me completely insane. Both of my kids have such different personalities, and while my son will does not bother me (for the most part,) my daughter can drive me up the wall in a measly ten minute time span.Is that the case with those of you who have more than one child? (Or maybe even your one child?) Are their personalities very different? And does one of

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-33896000086226089852007-03-20T05:27:00.000-05:002007-03-20T05:40:35.845-05:00

Ever since my husband bought his motorcycle, it's been all he can talk about. His excitement is palpable. You can feel the waves of pure "happy" coming off of him when he is telling someone about it. Often times I can see him go deep into thought, only to have him say something regarding his motorcycle a few minutes later. And I can't help but grin to myself, knowing that his every though is

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-78227737814505352472007-03-16T09:07:00.000-05:002007-03-16T09:18:00.870-05:00

Do you see that? That, that...thing up there? Well, that is now an official member of my household. It came home yesterday, after my husband lovingly loaded it into a trailer and hauled it from the dealership. And last night my husband couldn't even finish his dinner, he was so excited to go out and ride. I've never seen a grown man so giddy before. And if it takes a motorcycle to make the man

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-65047866105066381452007-03-15T07:22:00.000-05:002007-03-15T08:50:50.748-05:00

We had promised my son a pair of Heelys and my daughter a fish. Well, he got a pair given to him, and so we set out to get her a fish at the pet store on Sunday. Here are pictures: Wait, that's not a fish tank! Is that some sort of rodent in there? Yes, yes it is! It's a guinea pig. And her name is Daisy. Daisy is timid and spends most of her time in her igloo. (What, you didn't know guinea

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-11999762357453842352007-03-14T07:25:00.000-05:002007-03-14T07:40:38.682-05:00

Last night we was a night full of sadness. We went to my husband's cousin's wake. It was so odd, almost surreal, to be there and see everyone. There was such an air of grief, yet there were also people greeting each other and asking about children and even smiling at something someone said. I didn't know what to do with myself.I found myself asking, "How are you?" when I saw people, and then

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-88574842129999949022007-03-12T05:29:00.000-05:002007-03-12T05:41:05.641-05:00

They say it comes in threes - the passing of loved ones. And that has certainly held true.Last week my Great Uncle passed away.Friday night the young son of a dear old friend passed away.Saturday night my husband's younger cousin passed away.I cannot fathom what it is truly like to have someone there one day and gone the next. I wish I could gather everyone together and hold them tightly while

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-30281016901226433852007-03-11T07:40:00.000-05:002007-03-11T07:41:47.695-05:00

A little boy came over to my house the other day with a spray bottle in his hand. It was a little bottle and he was spraying it into his mouth. At first I thought it was Binaca. Remember Binaca? Do they even still sell Binaca? But anyway, I asked him what it was and he told me it was candy spray. And sure enough, it said it right there on the bottle, "Push Pump Candy Spray." Huh.So evidently you

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-54462060648117870302007-03-09T08:22:00.000-05:002007-03-09T08:47:52.565-05:00

This morning my husband told me that I was letting my readers* down by not posting yesterday. I told him I didn't know what to write, so I just didn't write anything at all. I was in a fog yesterday brought on by a decidedly miserable night's sleep. My dear husband sleeps with CPAP machine for his sleep apnea, and the seal on his face mask had sprung a leak, so to speak. It was emitting a sound

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-84070673369978822522007-03-07T10:49:00.000-05:002007-03-07T10:55:25.500-05:00

I've noticed a couple of new readers to my site. And I wanted to say hello. Also, I wanted apologize for the lack of real content at times. Oh, and the use of bad words. Because I happen to use a lot of bad words. In real life, though, I use very few. So that may make up for it? In some way? Maybe?Anyway, welcome. Stick around for awhile and come back soon. Maybe by the time you come

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-11510630202225368462007-03-06T13:22:00.000-05:002007-03-06T13:47:43.266-05:00

I watch a lot of the food network. I know that there are others like me - who know who Alton Brown* is and who also love his quirky wit - because whenever I mention something about watching the food network they always chime in with, "Don't you just love that channel?" But I am also achingly aware of the fact that there are others out there who (gasp) do not watch the Food Network and think it is

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-88986018106650434962007-03-05T14:00:00.000-05:002007-03-06T09:47:56.865-05:00

Amalah linked to this post yesterday over at Mom's Daily Dose and I knew I had to share it with you. It had me laughing my head off. So here it is: Lunch, by Miss Doxie. Go read. And for the love of God, if you aren't already a regular over at Miss Doxie, read her blog. She is funny, people. Funny!

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-41946664977659788882007-03-05T12:16:00.000-05:002007-03-05T12:34:53.823-05:00

I had such a nice weekend with my family. We were (mostly) feeling better and the weather was beautiful and we didn't have anywhere we had to be or anything we had to do. So we enjoyed ourselves. Which was nice.I've been drawing back into myself lately - withdrawing, if you will. It's a process that will occur with me from time to time. Usually it happens during a time when things are stressful,

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-84211003434416568292007-03-03T09:38:00.000-05:002007-03-03T09:44:20.011-05:00

We've recovered from the flu. Mostly. We've still got coughs and stuffy noses, but we're now upright and walking. And that's a good thing.I haven't been posting, I've been toying with ideas instead. I've thought about moving out of Blogger and going on over to a regular old .com of my own. And I'd also like to do a little more with things. Do things differently, I don't know... I'm just

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-53265614231919720002007-02-27T13:00:00.000-05:002007-02-27T13:18:33.517-05:00

(Hell. That's what I typed first for the title, just "Hell." And that pretty much sums it all up.)My daughter came home from school around noon yesterday. Her teacher called and said she was crying and coughing and complaining. So I went to pick her up. And she was just a MESS when I finally arrived - all of ten minutes later. By this morning her fever was up to 103.4 and I knew she had it

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-3271545578895205712007-02-26T10:31:00.000-05:002007-02-26T10:36:18.465-05:00

again...with the sick.I'm really hating the fact that someone has been perpetually sick here at our house for, oh, I don't know, 3 weeks now? It's like a very cruel way to slowly drive me insane and crush my spirit. It's just not fair, I tell you, it's just not fair. Right now it's my son who's running the fever. Although if you check back with me later, it's bound to be yet another person.

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-3111692444117492152007-02-23T08:35:00.000-05:002007-02-23T08:46:30.932-05:00

Yesterday was my daughter's 6th birthday. As is tradition here at our house, we decorated all up, ordered a cake, and had ourselves a party. Normally we have what we call a "family party" which is just our fancy way of saying "It's just us kid!" But after attending her first round of actual birthday parties this year, my daughter begged to have one herself - an actual party with guests other than

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-82986337131399016612007-02-21T20:40:00.000-05:002007-02-21T20:49:24.235-05:00

Scene: Son doing his homework at the kitchen table. Assignment is to read a book and write about the setting and main characters.Son: (speaking aloud while writing) "It takes place on a b*tch."Me: (who is only half paying attention while I get another child a drink) "Say what?!"Son: "On a b*tch."Me: (trying desperately to figure out what he's talking about. I mean, what kind of books do they give

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-37608064668017937902007-02-20T20:38:00.000-05:002007-02-20T20:54:14.707-05:00

I think the house can be removed from it's quarantine now. My daughter is officially no longer contagious now that she's been using the eye drops for her pink eye for more than 24 hours. We all seem to be holding down food (and eliminating it in a normal way.) (Ewwww.)I haven't posted because I've been busy. Busy running errands, mailing packages - Sara, it's officially on it's way! And that

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-38573825464578216962007-02-19T11:38:00.000-05:002007-02-19T11:46:15.926-05:00

Well, it seems to be our destiny to be sick around here. At least, it's the kids destiny. (Although, I'm usually not far behind them.)Friday night my little girl started throwing up. In her bed. And she continued to throw up in her bed all night long until I ran out of clean sheets and blankets to put on the bed. Then I moved her downstairs - at around 4 AM - so she could continue to sleep,

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-87965881376005368342007-02-16T14:31:00.000-05:002007-02-16T14:32:11.001-05:00

Have you seen this?It's a recall on peanut butter. Peter Pan peanut butter.Guess what I have in my pantry right now...Peter Pan peanut butter.Guess what the serial numbers are on the the 2 (2!) jars I have in there...If you guessed they start with 2111, you guessed right!Now guess what I've fed my daughter and also the boy I babysit today...Peter Pan peanut butter! The one that's recalled for

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-25282413584671646732007-02-16T10:44:00.000-05:002007-02-16T12:38:39.132-05:00

You know what I hate?(Oh, I hate a lot of things, as evidenced by the abundance of complaining I do here, but this thing is something I just realized I hated. Like, I've always been uncomfortable talking to people who are doing this, but I never put my finger on why exactly until yesterday. Yesterday I figured it out and was so bothered by it I wrote this little diatribe whilst waiting in the car

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-71393320435134254212007-02-15T10:57:00.000-05:002007-02-15T11:02:38.830-05:00

You know, it's really unfair that Valentine's Day comes at a time when my jeans were already feeling a little too snug. But don't worry, it's not going to stop me from eating the chocolates my dear hubby got for me. (The man knows what I like!) Nothing could stop me from eating chocolate.---------------------------------I think I'm going to officially name my house Diarrhea House. (Or

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-48318450132553656692007-02-14T06:28:00.000-05:002007-02-14T11:18:59.762-05:00

Well look-ey here, I have a BLOG! And I haven't written anything! I'm nothing if not consistent, right? (Hee hee, I crack myself up.) (But not you, you didn't even smile. At least give me a little patronizing laugh. Please?)So...how have you been? I've been not busy but busy at the same time. (Oh, I now that doesn't make sense, but bear with me.) I've dealt with kids who had a little bit of not

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-32397004968685085652007-02-08T13:01:00.000-05:002007-02-08T13:26:31.985-05:00

This morning while we were getting shoes and coats on, my daughter said to me, "Mom, why don't I have pretty coats like Sarah? All I have is this coat." And she gave the coat an appropriate look of disdain. So I asked her what kind of coats Sarah has. She told me she had pretty pink, pretty purple, and other pretty coats. Notice her liberal use of the word pretty. That was just in case I didn't

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-66014758855892540512007-02-07T08:51:00.000-05:002007-02-07T09:10:20.254-05:00

This morning I sent my kids upstairs to get dressed and heard the sounds of them playing together. I heard the high pitched squeals, giggles, and screams associated with their play. When I first heard the laughter I felt a tinge of anger - it was time to get dressed, not play. Then my anger quickly dissolved into happiness. I am so happy that the two of them can laugh and play together. They

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-53789561761739198672007-02-06T09:59:00.000-05:002007-02-06T10:16:04.568-05:00

I have learned a few new things I thought I would share with you: If you order a leotard for your child's dance class in September, and it isn't given to you until February, it will no longer fit. (Okay, so I knew this one. But I'm thinking her dance class teacher doesn't know this one. So I'm posting it just in case others do not know it. A public service, if you will.)When you show a toddler

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-87878237931715827442007-02-05T10:42:00.000-05:002007-02-05T10:55:00.156-05:00

Lately I've been obsessed with our family's financial outlook. And I've wanted to talk about it more in depth on here, but out of respect to my dear husband, I haven't. (See, I do think of your feelings, honey. Just maybe not as often as you'd like me too...) So I'm directing you over to Dad Gone Mad today, because he wrote a post that had me sitting here nodding my head. So go read.--------

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-72821340806211513322007-02-03T06:51:00.000-05:002007-02-03T07:37:25.774-05:00

My husband went to a parent-teacher conference regarding our son yesterday. It was the required middle of the year meeting where they tell you how well/badly your child is doing and whether or not they are 'on track' with the state standards.First let me tell you that I felt like my husband was filling in for me by going to this conference. I felt like I was supposed to be there, not him; like it

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-69972794416980090512007-02-02T09:15:00.000-05:002007-02-02T16:10:25.340-05:00

I've been looking for new furniture for my front room/computer room/game room for a good long time now. Basically, I've been looking since I've moved into this house. But I haven't been seriously looking, as in going to furniture stores and trying to find the correct colors and styles. I've been surfing the web and trolling Craigslist.*I have found several things that I want, several pieces of

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-55534744039121418822007-02-01T10:31:00.000-05:002007-02-01T10:34:15.318-05:00

When I read this post over at Woulda Coulda Shoulda, I knew I had to get people over there to read it. I just had to share. It's beautiful. Read it. (And then let me know if you need a tissue, because I've got a whole box of them right here.)

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-10946487362817730942007-02-01T10:08:00.000-05:002007-02-01T10:16:54.271-05:00

So, new look... you likey?It's, um, different. But I was getting tired of looking at the same old, same old. If you were on here several times last night (which, who wasn't?) you would have seen all the incarnations, all the different types of layouts I tried. And then I ended up going back to the original layout only to get up this morning and change it first thing. Even before my coffee.I

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-38562458383981452822007-01-31T14:46:00.000-05:002007-01-31T14:56:27.094-05:00

I'm sitting here writing this because I am sick. I am too sick to read a book - even the large print one I have from the library. (Which, I have large print not because I'm sight-impaired, but because that's the only copy they had of a series of books I wanted to read.) I am also too sick to lie down on the couch because if I lie down I may never ever get back up and I have to go pick up my

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-32159483600523230342007-01-29T07:41:00.000-05:002007-01-29T07:47:57.233-05:00

I think I'm going to take a break this week and not write here. I'll maybe post a little music...or something. Probably more towards the or something. I'm just a little stressed right now and having trouble focusing on anything. You know, like when your mind is on overdrive? You've got to slow it down and focus. You know?Don't worry about us here though, we're doing fine. In fact, I'm not

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-42319096112849591032007-01-25T06:48:00.000-05:002007-01-25T07:02:48.871-05:00

Here's what's on the nightly playlist at my house (because you were wondering, weren't you?):My daughter loves this song. It makes me want to scratch my eyes out and go completely deaf. But, you know, that's just a matter of opinion.My son loves this song. He also thinks the video is cool. His taste in music is a little more along the lines of mine. So at least it's not all Fergalicious around

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-44480194732779074072007-01-24T08:36:00.000-05:002007-01-24T08:44:00.709-05:00

This morning I woke up with a headache. A very hurt-y, very irritating headache. And as I always think with all my headaches, I thought it would go away with a cup of coffee and a little food. So I didn't take any ibuprofen.Well, folks, as you can guess, my headache is now a full blown migraine. Complete with ache behind my eye, light sensitivity, and a weird dizzy-ish feeling. Yippee!You

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-8818497006584357712007-01-23T10:30:00.000-05:002007-01-23T10:46:02.666-05:00

If you've been reading here a while, you know that I babysit kids for a living. Two of them. A three year old and a one year old. And I've had a few problems along the way. One of those problems is the behavior of the oldest child. And wouldn't you know, I'm having trouble again.This boy is so very intelligent, so very nice, and so very wonderful when he's on his own. Unfortunately, when

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-65669300796238802212007-01-22T10:40:00.000-05:002007-01-22T11:06:00.638-05:00

We took the kids to the indoor pool last night. That's one of the advantages of living here in suburbia, where we have a golf club, fitness center and a "sprayground". I admit that sometimes I feel so pretentious sitting in my minivan (with the all of the family's sets of golf clubs in the back) while we drive to one of the many pools in our neighborhood. It feels like I'm not so much 'keeping it

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-71053969923065136682007-01-19T20:16:00.000-05:002007-01-19T20:34:17.627-05:00

I seem to be saying 'I'm sorry for not posting' a lot lately. Because I feel some sort of obligation to post daily. It's like if I don't post some sort of daily diatribe or maybe even a small piece of wit or wisdom, you will never ever come back here again. Like reading what comes from the depths of my brain is important to you. And to spare my ego, let's pretend that it is. So on that note,

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-4972970346534879552007-01-18T08:31:00.000-05:002007-01-18T08:46:49.001-05:00

We finally have cold weather here. And we finally have...wait for it...snow! Well, it snowed for about 20 minutes. Then it turned to freezing rain, which resulted in a nice layer of slush everywhere. But, oh here's the good part, it was enough that the lady I babysit for has the day off of work and so, consequently, I too have to day off of work. WooHoo!My kids, however, still had to go to school

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-24754830126987301562007-01-17T10:31:00.000-05:002007-01-17T10:35:46.755-05:00

I can't write much today because the people are here to do the one-year checkup on the house and fix anything that may need fixing. Anything that is covered by warranty, that is. And trying to keep little kids out of the way IS NOT EASY while they move ladders and sand spots on the wall and spackle other parts and fix carpets and paint and... OH MY IT'S GOING TO BE A LONG DAY!So please excuse the

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-8945309422171044882007-01-16T10:18:00.000-05:002007-01-16T10:30:52.892-05:00

lots of fun with picture pages... lots of fun with crayons and a pencil... oh, um, sorry, I got a little carried away there. I loved that song. You know, from Fat Albert? Does that make me old - that I used to watch that? Oh, anyway, here are some pictures for you. They are of the children, of course. They tie-dyed some shirts yesterday and I wanted to show them off. The shirts, show the shirts

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-34869431998020055802007-01-12T09:15:00.000-05:002007-01-12T12:25:46.596-05:00

I know that you have been under attack as of late. And I hate to jump on the bandwagon, but it's just gotten to the point that I can no longer stay silent. It's like watching someone stand at the top of very steep, very dangerous concrete steps and teeter on the edge. I need to stop you from falling. Anything I can do to help, well, will make me feel like I at least grabbed you by the hand and

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-77448464246065887612007-01-11T09:24:00.000-05:002007-01-11T09:31:43.472-05:00

Sometimes you just look at your children and see actual big kids, not the little kids that they seem to be in your head. Sometimes you see their personality, not the personalities of their parents that we are so fond of saying they inherited from so-and-so's side. Sometimes they give you a glimpse of what they are thinking (and it's not just that they like to play with toys.) Sometimes it

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-898385331180434142007-01-10T07:15:00.000-05:002007-01-10T07:37:53.219-05:00

I am a little obsessed with sleep. (See: The topic of my conversations every single day.) And it's no coincidence that my obsession coincides with a run of insomnia. I lay in bed at night thinking that if I could just sleep for a solid 6 hours, then I could function again. I put so much stock in getting a good night's sleep that (of course) the good night's sleep never comes.I have these panic

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-87696043640886609592007-01-09T14:23:00.000-05:002007-01-09T14:32:51.715-05:00

Once upon a time there was a woman who suffered with bouts of insomnia. She was a woman who loved to sleep, and valued every single second of slumber she could get. But sometimes she just couldn't get more than an hour or two at a time. And that made her very tired and grumpy. The end.Instead of writing anything because I'm sure y'all don't want to listen to my tired ramblings, I leave you

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-48232287197614266692007-01-08T08:49:00.000-05:002007-01-08T09:01:16.855-05:00

Yesterday morning while we were trying our hardest to block out the noise of our wild children and lounge in bed until a more decent time of morning (like maybe 8:00 - dare to dream,) we heard the voice of one of our little noise-makers outside our bedroom door. The voice said, "Look in front of your door, there are notes for you!"And so we looked. After, of course, we tried to ignore the

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-39333047144965748202007-01-04T10:44:00.000-05:002007-01-04T10:57:46.697-05:00

I went to Kohls this morning to return a belt, and ended up walking out with a pair of pants each for the kids. But worry-not about my spending, because the total cost for 2 pairs of pants was less than the cost of 1 belt. So I had enough money to buy a McGriddle sandwich at McDonalds. (What, you think I could have come home with actual money left over? Psh.)-------------------------------

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-70387948970985766022007-01-03T08:27:00.000-05:002007-01-03T08:35:50.786-05:00

I've got a cold and it is making me cranky. Not cranky like I'm going to shoot death rays out of my eyes cranky, but more the type that makes me just want to have a little less to do with anyone.Apparently, I also have some sort of defect that permits me from realizing that when my kids are acting like total snots it may mean that they also have a cold that is making them cranky. Hence my

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-28588578493327488132007-01-02T09:48:00.000-05:002007-01-02T10:00:30.482-05:00

So... wow... it's 2007. The years keep on going on. And each passing year seems to move along more quickly than the last. I seem to remember my dad saying something (when I was young and a year seemed like forever) about the years moving along faster the older you get. I guess he was right.I'm not going to bore you with any new year's resolutions today. (You can thank me later.) I just

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-90769404585685378152006-12-31T15:47:00.000-05:002006-12-31T15:52:10.982-05:00

This is the last day of 2006. And I feel like it should be more special or something. But it's an every day kind of day, very un-special. And I think tonight will be spent just like every night around here - we'll put the kids to bed and maybe watch a little TV, I'll read a book and fall asleep, and we'll be lucky if we see the new year in. But who knows, we may decide to be wild and stay up

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24480459.post-74001245704918980952006-12-27T17:03:00.000-05:002006-12-27T17:27:55.723-05:00

The cookies, they are for Santa! They are all for Santa! And the kids, they are excited! The boy and his loot.The girl and her loot. And no, he didn't fall asleep here (because he was up at 2:00 AM checking to see if Santa had come,) he just looks like he did. That, my friends, is a Hot Wheels Radar Gun. Now he'll know if you're speeding down our street. (You may also be able to find me

Ehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12727836245531406120noreply@blogger.com1