This is Music

Only Dear Sir will understand the title to this post.
(I stole this meme from Lisa---how U2--Helter Skelter of me---see Rattle and Hum)

Favorite Song From Childhood: Probably "Don't Dream It's Over" by Crowded House, but anything from the 80's that isn't too cheesy is great.

Favorite High School Dance Song: Never went to the dances but once and then I didn't dance. I hate it.

Senior Class Song: Man, I really don't know and I don't care!

Favorite Rock & Roll Song: How about "Rock n Roll" by Led Zeppelin?

Favorite Disco Song: Don't like disco.

Favorite Country Western Song: Don't like country, but I do like that "You Move Me" song by Garth.

Favorite Pop Song: Nothing by the King of Pop, that is for sure---wait----I like "Billy Jean"

Favorite All Time Love Song: "Ice Cream" by Sarah McLachlan---but I can't think of anything else.

Favorite Break Up Song: "Honey Don't Think" by Grant Lee Buffalo

Favorite Slow Dance Song: Slow dancing is probably just as bad as fast dancing.

Song That Always Makes You Cry: "Breathe On Me" by Jennifer Knapp

Songs About Your Kids: Whenever I hear "Uncle Albert" by Paul McCartney (and Wings) I think of the kids. They LOVE that song...

Song That Reminds You Of Your Husband: There are tons. How about "Hey Bulldog" by the Beatles, or "Waa-Waa" by George Harrison, or "Killing a Dead Man" by Grant Lee Phillips or anything by Enya because we listened to her full blast on the way to the Oregon Coast for our honeymoon. It was raining and delightful. There's tons more. Anything by the Verve, Oasis (namely Masterplan). How about "Battle of Evermore" by Led Zep. "Say to My Soul" by me. (he is famous for loving that song--now isn't that nice?)

Favorite Christmas Song: "In the Bleak Midwinter"

Favorite Gospel/Praise Song: "Hear My Cry O God", "Holy is the Lord", "Humble Thyself", "I Will Glory in My Redeemer".

Hospital

I took my daughter to the hospital this morning to get a procedure done and I had to take the boys with. They were really good, I was shocked. My daughter had to get sedated and take what she called "loopy" medicine, and we were on our way to harmless medical work. She kept lulling around like a drunken sailor minus the cuss words, and bubbled out laughter and said, "This is a nice place!" She was really drugged. She had all the medical staff splitting their sides. Near the end of the procedure though, she started to cry, saying that she did not like how she could not walk straight and to put it shortly, she was like the crying drunk who is no fun. I had to CARRY her out of the hospital, Eraser Eater had to hold my purse, and the Oldest WOULD NOT STOP COMPLAINING AND TALKING. I finally had had it because my girl was flopping around in my arms (and she weighs a good fifty pounds) and the Oldest was running his mouth about I don't know what. Just junk that was irritating. He was saying his usual dirgy, negative stuff about how the girl was going to die or something and we would all have a funeral soon. I'm exaggerating here, really. But I do mean that it was complete chaos. I was about to tell him that if he did not shut it I would twist his lips off, but then I remembered the nurse was trying to guide me out and I had to behave myself.

The procedure went well and she is over the hurdle, which is great news, so that is something I should stop griping for!

I got really hot under the collar too because I lacked some sleep (I got up really early obviously) and I don't do well. I am not a morning person. The Oldest plopped down on the floor when we were about to go and completely knocked over Dear Sir's little shelving unit, thus breaking it in a million pieces. Don't even ask me how that happened. I lost it and picked up all the papers and whatnot and put them in a stack. Then I realized how spoiled I am when I had to scrape the ice off the windshield in my rush to get us all there. I was freezing, my hands were numb (you know how intolerable to cold I am), and I was whining about it incessantly. I realized that many of you guys and other ladies on this soil go to work every morning and battle the same stuff. I get to stumble out of bed, wear my lounge clothes all day and sip coffee while the kids do school. I even can order them around a bit and slack off and do nothing if I so desired. Which reminds me, I should teach that boy to iron. Good plan. So sorry you ladies that scrape ice off windshields, I am a wimp and hats off to you.

When we got home I took the girl upstairs with me and made her sleep and I got a bit of that too, so that helped. I took them to Target after that and dropped too much money, but I had to buy another shelving unit and purchase another set of blinds that the Oldest, again, destroyed last week. The Oldest, however, was excellent with his sister when she was all weepy by giving her his gameboy and helping her get her mind off her despair by rubbing her on her shoulder or patting her head. She was so drugged she said, "Who are you?"

I'm Lazy Links

I just finished reading a novel called Martin Dressler, which was really sort of strange, but for some reason I liked it. The author, Steven Millhauser, is the same guy that wrote the story that the movie the Illusionist is loosely based on. Give him a try if you will. I think he is a good modern writer. I know a lot of you could care less in a way.

I also finished reading the Gobhole Banter's Club read of the month called "Miss or Mrs.?" by my own dear Wilkie Collins. He writes great short stories and great novels. I can't wait to get into more. You guys missed out, who did not read it.

I am also loving Yo-Gos, (Anne will probably fall over at how un-nutritious they are) Fruitabus (this is great for a person like me who can not eat raw fruit or veggies), and Land of a Thousand Hills Coffee (from Rwanda).

My favorite type of running shoe is this, I think I will read this next, and maybe if I am good and he has time, this guy will go out with me at some point this week.

I am supposed to color my hair darker (it will look brown to most people that don't know how to classify various shades of blonde) this weekend, so wish me luck (I am getting it done BTW). I am going to go for either light blonde highlights or red cinnamon highlights. What do you think? I am leaning toward the cinnamon color.

Merry Christmas

Note to Dear Sir: I am getting you back---don't kill me when I do. (I wince as I say this)Ha ha.

Dear Sir was in his prime mood last night. He had a tough work week and I think he was relieved to be home, so he was in one of those moods when he antagonizes everyone with jokes the whole night. We had to all go and pick up our VW at the shop and he had the kids convinced that tomorrow is Christmas and we were on our way to get a tree. The Oldest usually gets sucked in quick because he is so literal, but then he looks over at me while I am shaking my head and looking down and thinks, "Mom doesn't even believe it."

Eraser Eater said, "But we didn't even finish an Advent Calendar!"

Dear Sir just said, "Yes you did."

They spew objections and then Dear Sir somehow convinces them of his little plot.

My daughter started to paw at me and say, "Are we really getting a tree!? This is SO EXCITING!"

Finally I told her no, Dad is being crazy.

Even on the way we passed a restaurant with little lights on the roof and he said, "Look! Christmas lights!" They all "oohed and ahhed".

He turned up a country music station (we don't listen to country) and started singing loudly over it with words like "Noel" and "Happy Jolly". "Listen to the Christmas music!" he yelped.

So when we finally got to the shop to get the car, I made sure that I was the one leaving HIM with the kids. He could take care of that madness and I don't have to be in the car when he tells them it is all a joke.

Once Eraser Eater and the daughter were put to bed, I crawled under the covers and read my book. Dear Sir decided to come up and work on his laptop. The Oldest came up as well to read his Bible. Dear Sir started to talk about Christmas or something again with the Oldest. I can't even remember what it was. By this time I was so annoyed that he came in the room with his jokes while I was peacefully reading! I threatened to toss him out of the room and he laughed at me heartily. That boy loves making me mad.

He also informed me that TWO people at work notified him that he looks just like Keifer Sutherland. He finally believes me now, the freak.

Nothing to Shout About

Ok, here are my keys. Someone said that they tell a lot about a person. First of all, you see, I have a little card for Petsmart on my ring. I have a fish named Tolstoy. That is typically where I buy his stuff. The one you can not see is for a grocery store I go to in town. Then of course, I have a Borders rewards card. Two keys are for the house and one key is for the shed. The black key is for the Saturn and the VW key is for the guess what---the VW. Pretty plain jane if you ask me.

Maybe it tells you how simple I am? I have not even bothered to get a key chain. Why don't I have a Wonder Woman one? Now that is an idea....or Alice in Wonderland. Hmm...maybe I will go shopping for a keychain.

Busted

I am often jerked from some present thing I am doing because the sound of Eraser Eater whining and crying is such an irritation that I tend to go a bit ballistic. This thing happened this morning. The boys were sitting at the table antagonizing each other; the Oldest jabbed Eraser Eater with his green pencil in the groin and then in the arm somewhere. When asked why he did this thing he said,

"He kept calling me 'beaver breath'!"

The straight face I was trying to keep was slowly but swiftly turning into bubbling laughter, so I took Eraser Eater's book (the closest thing to me), opened it up, and gently placed my face in it. I turned around as well. This is how literal my Oldest son is:

"What's so funny? {Eraser Eater's} book?"

I quickly pulled the book down, tore out a page, and placed it in front of Eraser Eater. "Looks pretty funny," I said stupidly. I wondered how the heck he buys whatever I say.

"That must be some book!" he said.

I then went to the bathroom, walked out, went to the sink to get a glass of water and beaver breath echoed in my head, making its reappearance. The visage of the Narnian beaver floated before my eyes. I imagined him exhaling out rank air from eating whatever it is beavers eat. Bark, maybe.

I busted out laughing.

"You seem to be laughy lady today, Mom." Was all he said.

Hum

The Oldest is always humming incessantly. My daughter had to read a few words for her phonics lesson last week and one of the words was "hum". With each word she pronounced, I made her think of an example and tell me what she thought of. For "hum" she thought of her oldest brother humming all the time.

Sometimes getting on my Oldest son's nerves is the little chuckle of my life. If I can get him to laugh at himself (because he takes himself so seriously) it is even better. While doing his math this morning I started to violently hum like he does so often around the house. I, of course, added a little more pep into it to make it noticeable. He sat there with the Expo pen in hand, brows furrowed, and gave me a "are you for real?" look.

"What are you doing, mom?"

"Just humming. It sounds GREAT. It sounds just like yours."

"No, it doesn't." He slammed the pen down at the injustice.

"And why not?"

"Mine sounds so much better if you heard the whole of it."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I have other music that goes to it that you can't hear. I am humming to it. I have a little jukebox in my mind."

Various Hints of Malarkey

Dear Sir and I took the kids to Borders yesterday for a little outing. I love books, but I get so overwhelmed of late because there are so many books I do want that I don't ever buy anything. I mean, I think about all the books that I do have and it depresses me to buy yet another book to add to the ever-increasing collection of books not read.

Dear Sir got a bargain book about the Saints (it is really cool and I am glad he got it---good home school book!), the girl got a princess magazine, Eraser Eater got an art book on Escher, and the Oldest got a gargantuan book on Ancient Rome. I think the thing is about eight pounds. Since I had to go to Target to pick up some anti-microbial febreeze spray (to disinfect a wet mattress after a good scrubbing---at least to help with the smell) I went by the clearance Valentine's section and found some truffles by Choxie and had a glimmer of delight. That won't sit on the shelf and collect dust.

The day prior the Oldest approached Dear Sir about dating and told him that when he is a teenager, he will not be interested because he is not "the emotional type."

And, to make bedtime a more laborious task, I was in the bathroom with the girl about to administer her medicine and grabbed the Milk of Magnesia bottle to shake it. The rage in my face probably showed when the white, minty fluid splashed all over the bathroom mirror, myself, and the connecting walls. "CRAP!" I yelled. The girl laughed with glee. I looked at her incredulously, with beet red face. "Less for me!" cried the little blond smarty-pants with a giggle. "I hate that stuff!"

(the little voice in my brain said---"then quit holding your poop!")

Martin Luther on Yoga

If yesterday's entry was ever read, I think the problem of my frozen toes was solved, in my estimation. Sure, they were cold, but that is not normal for me. I realized last night when I was taking a HOT bath (because I was so cold) that I had marks on my ankles from my socks cutting off my circulation. That'll do it.

I am going to keep going on ailments because people love reading about that. The other day I decided since I strained my calf (maybe running ten miles was not so smart?) that I would pick up a Pilates video and do pilates. I have never done it before and my friend swears by it---says it is great and all. I am always a little leery of Yoga because I think it is wrong (and maybe that is an ignorant statement) but anything that is spiritual and not MY kind of spiritual, I am not ok with. Anyway, I think there was a little bit of Yogaish moves going on with this video and it was actually fine----it just kicked my butt. I mean, I was not out of breath and dying or anything, I just really felt it the next day. And with every exercise video, the ladies on there start doing all these moves you can't keep up with, and you end up feeling embarrassed even though no one is around to see you biff it all up.

My daughter even said while she was doing the moves with me, "This is so WEIRD, Mom!" No, it's not your typical Kathy Smith stuff. Sucking in air in spurts and puffing it out the same way. OK. I do realize that breathing is what actually burns calories, not the action you are doing. I know, sounds weird, but the action and the breathing actually work together to get the calories burned. If you get that heart pumping, you need to breathe MORE, is what I am saying. I guess that is why I have seen people selling video collections on how to "breathe to burn calories and get thin" without doing a stitch of exercise. Amazing how the body works.

But I did get through the video. In robotic fashion, but I got through it. My Oldest son, who sometimes Dear Sir and I like to call "Martin Luther", said in the middle of the video, "Did she say 'meditate'? That's not good mom."

She didn't say meditate, although I am sure she would. It is weird how he always picks up on that stuff. When she said, "Here is a common Yoga stretch that...." he quickly blurted out, "YOGA! Don't do it! What are you doing, MOM?!"

So, I refrained from doing the stretch for our Martin Luther. Besides, he might throw an inkwell at me or something.

In the Frozen Deep

So I went to Costco today and took the sick kids with me. We were severely running out of goods, so we had to go. I had a mind to spend hundreds. When you do that, upon getting home, hundreds of muscles ache because you are the one stuck loading it, unloading it, and putting it away. It was especially scary because the snow here is just pure ice, like walking on a frozen lake. Eraser Eater took a turn outside without my knowing it and when I went to get the mail, I turned to see him racing toward me, skidding on the ice in his boots, and biffing it flat on his face. It reminded me of A Christmas Story. He cried and I had no sympathy as usual. He was fine though, thankfully enough.

As I was walking around with the cart though, I noticed that my toes were numb. I couldn't even feel them even slightly. I have been so cold lately that my fingers are purple quite a bit.

I think I am a hypochondriac because my son is standing here right now complaining of a mysterious pain when he coughs, and he wishes for me to look up his symptoms in the medical manual. He always diagnoses himself with various little things. Dear Sir always shakes his head and says, "I think you will die in your sleep tonight." The oldest is very literal, so he always gets this deer caught in headlights look on his face and falls for it every time.

He also got the deer caught in headlights look the other night when he discovered a fly in his bedroom. Why the flies are not dead when it is so cold, I don't know. He flipped out like usual, cried for a decent spell, and I had to save the day with a magazine because go figure, I don't have a fly swatter anymore. Lost it in the move. That fly was meaty and intrepid too. I had to HACK at it to get it to die. It would sit there stupidly and then crawl a little in a crack and there I was, blowing death upon it with a folded Economist Magazine in a downward jabbing motion.

Now he is running around with his new dollar store gun, clicking away, driving me crazy. He dared to pull the thing out at Costco and grace us with the lovely sound directly in the ear. I was quick to confiscate it.

My daughter is at the moment wearing her little halter under shirt with Cinderella on it while donning a Hello Kitty pillowcase as her mermaid tail. She is squirming around the floor and that means I have to go and take care of this. I am freezing.

Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

And that is all I have to say.

Ten Reasons Why I love Dear Sir

I have to post this because last year I saw someone do this same thing and I thought it was nice:

1. He is considerate and patient. He never intrudes while I am in the bathroom brushing my teeth or washing my face, for example; he patiently waits until I am done.

2. He takes care of me. When I need a break or need rest when I am ill, he will part waters to come to my aid.

3. He never complains about my hatred for ironing. In fact, he will iron himself before mentioning that he needs a shirt ironed.
This of course goes for other things as well.

4. He is the most amazing father. He is an example to me of how our Father is to us. He tucks the kids in, reads them stories, prays with them, plays games with them, has meaningful discussions with them, laughs with them, and many more things---it is impossible to list them all.

5. He is incredibly smart and is humble about it.

6. He loves me.

7. He loves books and many other things I love.

8. He always thanks me for everything I do for him.

9. He has a great sense of humor and is exceptionally jovial in crowds.

10. He is smashing in a suit and is entirely handsome.

There really is more, but I don't want to keep going forever. Blogger would break down and then it would be the ruin for everyone.

p.s.---I hate Valentine's Day, but thought this would be perfect for it. :)

Unknown

I got this from Susie and I won't gripe. Here are ten things you may not know about me because I am too tired to think of writing material:

1. I lost thirty pounds in one month after the birth of my Oldest by walking to and from work every day, rain, snow, sleet, or shine.

2. I sang in Carnegie Hall. The Beatles sang there too---which is unrelated, but cool.

3. I ate sushi one time and it tasted like aspirin.

4. I had a thyroglossal duct cyst in my neck (obviously), which turned out to be a part of my thyroid, but for some reason when I had the thing removed, my thyroid function remained normal. Who knew.

5. I went to a baseball game for the second time (in my life) and wondered what everyone was doing when they were getting up for the "seventh innng stretch"?

6. I have never run a race or a marathon and don't plan to.

7. I had a big huge fat grey worm crawl up my leg in the middle of the night when Dear Sir used to work nights. I remember it was pitch dark in the room and I grabbed it with my fingers and held it up to see what it was. I kept squishing it and saying in my head (half-asleep), "what IS this?!" I decided to chuck it in the bathroom and run over and turn the light on to see what it was. A HUGE worm. I flushed the thing down the toilet (after protecting my hands with toilet paper---I had already touched it with my bare hands, but you know, knowledge is power) and tore the bed apart to search for more. There were none but it took me forever to fall asleep again.

8. I suffer from severe eczema and I have the ugliest hands on this here earth. My feet are a close second. Unlike Susie who boasts of beautiful feet.

9. I have the power to draw vast amounts of blood from my mouth and frighten people with it. I have since discovered that it is against God's law for me to do this when I read Leviticus. Ooops.

10. I am double-jointed, can raise one eyebrow, but can not whistle to save my life. Dear Sir says I am pathetic, which I am. I will not argue there.

I'm Every Woman

Dear Sir and I went to get our taxes done. Hopefully that is the last time we are going to set ourselves back four hundred bucks. I know, Turbotax and all that. We just had complicated stuff this year, allright? Give it a rest.

So, we had the appointment at ten and the neighbor came and held down the fort a little early so I suggested that Dear Sir stop at Dunkin Donuts for fun. I have never been to one (nor have I been to a Krispy Kreme) so I was a little excited. Well, not really. I don't get excited about anything. I just wanted a donut because I have them about once a year. We walk in the place and there is a guy taking the orders and handing out the goods. There is also a woman manning the register. I told the guy my order two times because he didn't get it the first time (we were only ordering two donuts and a milk). Finally the lady rings me up, I hand her my card, and she just swipes it through. The guy breathes down her neck and says really softly, "Umm.." and she looks over at him, like she knew what he was going to say. She says, "That's allright. I know FACES, and they in here all the time!" She looks at me and chuckles as I take my receipt.

Yep, we go into Dunkin Donuts ALL the time. I had never stepped foot in one before in my life. Neither has Dear Sir, for that matter. I just smiled at the lady and walked out. Dear Sir had a good laugh.

Maybe Dear Sir goes in there with another lady that looks a lot like me---there's a thought. But when would he have time? Hmm..never. Maybe I drive there in my sleep and get donuts early in the morning. No---maybe "I'm every woman." I am the typical caucasian woman? Lots of people do tell me that I look like someone they know...Hmm...

Beats me. I got her out of a bind, is what I did. Swiped that card too fast.

Build My Coffin

Everyone feel sorry for me. I have been breaking up fights all day. Does it wear any of you out who have more than one kid? It wears me down to where I feel like I have been embalmed. I know I am complaining. I suppose that I could be grateful that my children can speak? Eraser Eater is the whiny one, the daughter cries at the drop of a hat, and the Oldest flares out in anger over everything. The most common thing I say (I have found) is: "I am done." I even say it to Dear Sir at times. It does not end with children. Dear Sir usually says to me in response, "You always say that, but then you still keep going."

Keep going.

For fun, I will post the most recent search words that made my blog a hit:

1. green cathedral
2. "went to the store wearing"
3. "black stuff* throat"
4. walter wick fan
5. "had to hold it" pee in traffic

I don't have many. During Christmas I think I was one of the main hits for Manheim Steamroller. Amazing. I hate them.

The kids are outside playing in the snow and keep coming in over and over crying over their frigid hands. CRYING. They keep grabbing the snow like it won't happen again.

I am weak and I need major calories.

I actually made granola bars today and a pie. And just for Leslee, I will paint the house again this weekend. I have to do it for "little ol'" her.

Gotta go break up another fight----

Me, Myself, and I

I just feel really grateful this morning. It totally helped to read Jennifer's post. It is amazing how faithful God is to us as we struggle. I am reminded more and more that His promise to us is sure, His love true. It is hard for us as people corrupted to see beyond our sin-sick hearts. We think of God in a way that WE would be if we were God. That is what makes redemption so incredible. It is beyond who we are, unlike anything we could fully be. And if we were perfect, we would not need Jesus. Our imperfection, our state of sin, is the very thing that can either keep us completely away from Him, or keep us safely tucked away with Him.

I realize that this is probably no-brainer material. But to be honest, I forget all the time. I get busy with life and my own little idols and do not recall. It is in my nature. That is why Jesus tells us to "love your neighbor as yourself." I already love myself. It is a given. I am asked to reach out beyond myself to love others. The idea is for every Christian to get their minds OFF themselves. Our complete preoccupation is hopelessly ourselves. Self-loathing is indeed self-love. Oprah teaches us the opposite though. ---Love yourself and then you will be fit to love others. A lie.

And how did I get to that? My point is, WE are our own little idols. WE keep ourselves away from God. WE do not deny ourselves. When we get our minds off ourselves, we find that we are in a better place. I am my own worst enemy.

Visiting the Workforce

Mr. President will be at Dear Sir's work tomorrow. I told him to tell him "hi" for me. He doubts he will see him though. Bush has been a traffic issue for our family two times now. I hope he isn't again tomorrow. First we got in a jam going past Dulles Airport (why was he not on Marine Corps One?---or whatever it is called) and then the next time we got stuck by the Pentagon on our way to the National Gallery of Art. On the way back there he was in the parking lot of the Pentagon saying some speech. He was up on a huge screen and people were everywhere. We see him a lot around here.

In that picture is Dirk Kempthorne---the Senator for Susie's neck of the woods. I don't miss that guy for some reason. Don't like his hair among other things.

I ran like a mad woman today to see if I could do it and I ran ten miles! My feet hurt, but that is it so far. I have not done that in about a year.

Among other news, Chess Club is tonight and my house is a disaster. I also painted all day yesterday. I went nuts and even painted a closet. I have lots of painting to do because people are going to come and visit me in the spring and my house has to be finished as far as paint goes. I can stand it no longer.

And I didn't watch the SuperBowl so there. I don't even know who was playing. I heard Colts but that is all I know. I made Dear Sir and the boys popcorn and then went to bed. Painting makes you tired.

I remembered just now---the Bears?

After I ran, I promised my daughter that I would play Memory with her. I lost miserably, so she gave me a few matches to make us even. I gave them back because I refused to be a bad sport.

And now I must make dinner, which I have no idea what that will be.

Have a good evening.

Kazoo Madness

The kids have been playing "band" lately. You know, Eraser Eater has the "Helmet Breakers" and the Oldest has the "Speeding Tickets". My daughter participates in this stuff too; she bangs on a pot or something in their room as they have a "jam" of sorts.

For some reason one of them has been asking me if kazoos were available because they thought it would give them the quality of sound like no other. And they are cheap, accessible. So, being the dope that I can tend to be, I took them to a party supply store (that happens to be near the grocery store I go to) and bought a pack of cheap kazoos. Big mistake. I mean, my friend, when I told her this story said, "Did you not know as you had the stupid things in hand, that you were about to make the conscious choice to get annoyed and lose your mind?!"

Yes, I did know what I was doing. I figured that they would continue the band thing upstairs, room door closed, with just a little more added pep because of the kazoos. Nothing more. I did not dream of the Oldest kazooing it out during Latin chants at school (he would just pull one from some pocket on his clothing and go to town), or the Oldest running by people and yelping a kazoo blast in someone's ear. That always puts me in such a good mood in the morning. But for the most part, I knew I was in trouble when, on the way home in the car, all three of them pulled out their kazoos and kazooed "The Imperial March" at the top of their vocal capacity. I sat at that red light, closed my eyes, and said to myself, "I deserve this."

*note for those who are Star Wars illiterate--the "Imperial March" is the song that Darth Vader always comes out to.

Periodic TV

Dear Sir, after watching a snippet of Glen Beck (who was obviously suffering from a terrible cold), climbed upstairs last night and handed me the remote. "You can watch what you want to, I think I need to go to bed."

I watched a little "Hogan Knows Best" and "What Not to Wear" and even, I might say, a little of the "Tyra Banks Show." Tyra set her show up Sally Jesse style and got the "party girls" to confess all on her stage and even allowed them to giggle and laugh about smashing in their faces or passing out because of intoxication and whatnot---- to then get a doctor to go up there and chew them out. How is that for a run-on sentence. She then got another doctor on there to show what partying does to your body's organs. And I have to say that everyone is making a big deal about how Tyra has gained some weight, but frankly, I think she looks fabulous with it. She looks perfect to me, I don't see what the big deal is.

I loved watching on "Hogan" how Brooke claims that her family has taught her morals and she poses on a male magazine so scantily clad that it makes me wince. Suddenly reminds me of Jessica Simpson.

"What Not to Wear" is always a cool show. I need Clinton and Stacey in my shopping life, but I am not bad enough with clothing choices for that madness. There are way too many people out there that look way worse than me and that show proves it. Yikes.
I could stand some hair changes, but don't know what that should look like.

Well, Dear Sir is wanting to go somewhere and I am not even out of my pjs yet so I am holding everybody up.

Have a good weekend.

Rubbish

Today I pretty much talked on the phone all day. I feel bad, in addition to grossing all my "blogger" friends out. I am base, very base.

But---on the bright side---as I was making dinner with the daughter, she told me freely that I am her "inspiration" and said, "I will only tell you where I got that from if you let me have a sip of your wine." Like mother like daughter.

I forgot to tell Susie that I don't watch movies when I iron because I can't watch two things at once. I am a sad sort of multi-tasker. I would burn a shirt or burn myself. So I talk on the phone. That works well for me. Can you tell I really lack friends? I bother all my friends in Idaho or elsewhere with my phone calls. Lately I have been bothering Americanspark, who then tells me I am crazy for ironing shirts and not getting them professionally done---she does---and she also gives the cleaners so much work apparently they give her a large tin of danish cookies for Christmas?! That's kind of a good deal. I always feel like I am putting them all out. All around here the cleaners are all Asian and they don't really speak English very well. There is always a stern man who mans the cash register and a jovial lady who just nods her head like she knows what you are talking about with a needle, thread, and a pair of pants in her hands. I try to be so thankful when I drop a pair of pants off to get hemmed (I don't do that well either).
"Oh, thank you, thank you," I will say.

Then they say something like, "Ya!!!" really loud with no smile, or they just nod a head with a grimace. I always feel like I am intruding. I think even once a hand was waved in the air as if to say, "get out already, weird lady." I can tell they don't understand what I am saying. I will tell you though, it is the best place to go because no one can hem pants like they do at my cleaners.

The potty training deal at night is not working out so well. Since I have lacked sleep it is messing with my head so therefore I decided to wait until the girl is six and then I will get her an alarm. Can you imagine sleeping so soundly with a full bladder and then some horrendous alarm sounds and scares the crud out of you in the middle of the night? I don't look forward to that. I have done a little tad of research and apparently the alarm is loud enough to wake a parent. Lovely. I hope it would take care of the whole thing in a jiffy. I don't do well with little sleep. In fact, I become an animal. Even my children would NEVER wake me in the morning because of what would happen if I were to be stirred awake unnaturally.

I used to tell Dear Sir back in the day when we were dating that I ran "well on little sleep". What a lie. Maybe then I did because I ate little to nothing because I was infatuated and nervous and survived on nerves. It is interesting what you will do and say when you are in the first stages of love.

Apologies

Sorry for grossing you all out. I just wrote and posted! Ha ha!

I promise I will write something a little less disgusting next time. Imagine how I felt all day!