Operation: Communication

I'm pretty sure I have commented before on my husband's neurotic obsession that terrorists are tapped into all of the B. family's phone lines and that he MUST NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE, RELEASE ANY INFORMATION THAT MAY IN ANY INDIRECT ROUTE REVEAL ANYTHING ABOUT THE MILITARY, ITS OPERATIONS, TRAINING SITES, TRAINING ACTIVITIES OR WHERE THEY USE THE BATHROOM. It used to really irritate me, but now I have fun with it.

"So, uh, I was just calling to let you know that I made it."

"Made what?"

"I made it."

"Made WHAT?"

"I, you know, GOT HERE."

"You left?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"A little while ago."

"Like 30 minutes? Three days?"

"Something like that."

"So where are you?"

"You know."

"I forgot."

"You KNOW."

"Oh, you mean in Oklabraska or Ohifornia?"

"I only have 20 minutes on this phone card."

"What phone card? Did you buy it?"

"No. They gave it to me."

"Who?"

"THEY did."

"Who is THEY?"

"Are the kids there?"

"No. They left."

"Oh. Did my Dad take them somewhere?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"Nope."

"Are they outside?"

"They're... you know..."

"What?"

"YOU KNOW. That's where they are."

"Um.... at school?"

"Something like that."

"Well, I gotta go."

"Go where?"

"GO."

"WHERE?"

"I love you. Talk to you later."

"Where are you going?"

"Bye."

"WHERE ARE YOU? I haven't seen you in four months!! Did the government kidnap you for some secret mission?"

--click--

Other conversations have gone something like this:

"So, what are y'all doing in training?"

"Oh you know, stuff."

"Stuff? Wow, that sounds awesome! Do you have fun doing stuff? Man, I wish I could do stuff."

"You know, like military stuff."

"Oh, MILITARY stuff? That's even better! You have the life, doing stuff, and stuff doing stuff. Just imagine, me and my friends doing... stuff!!"

Or this:

"I was just calling to let you know I may not be able to call you for a while."

"I really? Why is that?"

"Well, you know."

"Um, actually I don't because you always talk in acronyms and code."

"You know, I'm... going... somewhere?"

"Where are you going?"

"I told you already."

"Um, not really you didn't."

"Yes I did."

"So when are you leaving."

"You know. Soon."

"Soon? Like today? Or tomorrow?"

"Something like that."

"Well, you-know-what me when you get you-know-where so I'll know that you arrived you-know-how."

"Um... okay."

Seriously. This is insane.

Georgia

So I went to Georgia for seven days to hang out with James before he left the country.

It was awesome!!

All six of my flights went well. The first lady I sat by was notably neurotic. She kept talking and would gasp every time the plane moved. She was the first one off the plane when we landed in Dallas.

From Dallas to Charlotte, NC I was graced with the presence of a car connoisseur who politely showed me the pricey cars he was planning to buy at auction soon. He also offered to buy me a drink. Literally. I love how plane seating is overly cramped and you feel strangely intimate trying to wrestle the armrest from your fellow seatmate. Luckily the guy on my other side slept through the whole trip. He did snore though.

Charlotte to Savannah was uneventful, I can't really remember who I sat beside. Maybe I was too busy swooning. I do remember several soldiers on the flight talking loudly about beer drinking and how "Palin is just too HOT to be VP, man!!"

The first thing I noticed is that Georgia has actual trees, like 80 foot freaking TREES that are not MESQUITE. I didn't know there were any other kind!!

So off I go to pick up the rental car, luggage and husband.

--------

We spent five days walking around historic Savannah, lounging in the hotel room, watching the results of the election, and eating massive amounts of fast food.

I wanted to eat at places not commonly found where we live, so the first evening we ate at a Mom and Pop seafood place. Blah.

The second day we went to a Krystal's, which is kind of like White Castle, only their meat was a grayish, chopped-and-reassembled square.

So we made up for it by going to Baskin Robbins, who didn't take credit cards and was paid mostly in dimes and nickels.

Red Lobster was up next, and I was a little apprehensive knowing the adorable lobsters int he tank would soon be steamed on my plate. But I ordered it anyway. And it was DISGUSTING. Rubbery and covered in spices not becoming to a lobster in any way. Barf.

I had always heard of Ruby Tuesday but had never tried one. So we did. The salad bar was AWESOME. It was fresh and had such a variety of stuff it was unreal. I'm talking four different lettuces, eight different dressings, croutons and sunflower seeds... everything! We ordered queso and chips for an appetizer and everything went downhill from there. The cheese sauce was nasty and not even cheese colored. My steak was eh, ok. The mashed potatoes had more butter than potato, and the mashed cauliflower was... gross. Even the dessert was unmemorable.

From then on out we stuck with sandwiches.

--------

Savannah was so beautiful. We walked down River Street and sampled the wares of the candy shops, which were delicious and expensive. We also were beseiged by panhandlers in every town square we happened to walk past. By the way, Savannah has 24 town squares, 22 of which are still in their original state. One of the others is being renovated and the last is now a parking lot. Wonderful.

We took a bus tour of the city which was great, we got to see many beautiful houses and churches that took up literally whole blocks. The roads were super narrow and almost all one-way. We also took the haunted house tour, which is another guided bus tour that shows you some haunted houses in the downtown area. I wanted to go in a house but that wasn't allowed.

Fuddy-duddies.

We took one house tour which was extremely BORING because the guide was 72 and had done the tour every day since she was, like, BORN and we weren't allowed to see the WHOLE house, just four rooms and a bathroom. Psh.

Then James and I fed pigeons outside yet another candy shop and called it a day.

--------

We said our goodbyes and boo hoos and thanks for letting me buy those new awesome combat boots and ultra shatter-resistant sunglasses and far out computer games and razor blades and I came home.

I didn't get to sit beside anyone too terribly interesting except the twelve year old who kept fidgeting and jabbing me with her elbow.

Other than the other passengers, I love to fly. I like the patchwork look of Texas and the green, just GREEN, of all the other states. My Dad got to fly during a rainshower once. I also like looking down at the clouds instead of up.

So, in summary, if you ever get a chance to got to Georgia, or any place without your kids for seven days, go!!

--------

Plane tickets to Georgia: $771.98

Luggage fee for airline: $30

One Diet Coke on flight: $2

Rental car for one week: $455.82

Gas: $40

Hotel rooms for one week: $432.67

New accessories for husband: $145.99

Food for one week: $151.77

Almost dying from inhalation when husband decides to Endust his laptop, figuring (quite incorrectly) that the vent in the bathroom would be enough to filter the noxious and proven-fatal fumes but still getting to spend five days with him before he goes overseas: PRICELESS.

Kids Are Great

I like my kids most of the time.

I think I may keep them.

Caleb likes to sit in the floor with some paper and highlighters and draw. He draws with such intensity that his tongue sticks out and follows the movements of his hand. Seriously. His thing right now is writing the alphabet, which he was doing when he looked up and said "Mom? How do you write a minnow?"

"Well, it looks like a fish, so..."

"No Mom, a MINNOW."

"A MINNOW is a FISH."

"No, like J, K, L, a minnow, P?"

I almost died laughing.

"It's not 'a minnow,' it's 'L,M,N,O,' three letters," I said.

"THREE letters? Awww, man!"

--------

I figured out something spectacular this weekend.

Give them a Play-Doh set and my kids will play for literally four hours.

They've had Play-Doh before, what was the difference this time?

Perhaps the octopus that you shove full of Doh and squeeze out it's holes to make legs. Or poop, depending on how old you are.

--------

Later on the kids were lying on my bed eating chips.

"Mom, what are potato chips?"

"They're made out of potatoes."

"No, what ARE they?"

"Uh, a chip?"

"No, I mean a GO, a WHOA, or a NO?"

(Which means, are they a good food, kinda good kinda bad food, or a bad food?)

"They're a WHOA."

"Awww, man!!"

Then Lily, with a mouthful of chips, exclaims "Man, this is the LIFE!!!"

--------

"Sissy when I turn five I will be in the five grade."

"Yeah, and when I turn eight I will be in the eighth grade!"

"And when I get seventeen I will be in the seventeen grade!"

"I'm gonna live to be one hundred and be in the one hundred grade!"

"Me too!!"

--------

I've been trying to decide what college courses I wish to take next semester, which means I need to decide on what degree plan I wanted to work for. I haven't figured this out in seven years. Kids have some crazy/cool ideas so I figured what the heck.

"Lily, what should I go to school for?"

"Um... to graduate?"

They kill me. They really do.

"No, I mean what kind of job should I have?"

"Um... be a mom?"

Do they read my blogs?

"No, like what job should I have and go to work doing?"

"Um... you should be a cake maker."

Right....

"Or... you could come teach at my school!!"

NO.

Then Caleb pipes up, "Or you could be a rocket launcher!!"

The Tale Of The Sh*tting Cat

I can't think of anything else to post, so I will regale you with a fond memory.

Or not so fond.

This one is called, "The Tale of the Sh*tting Cat."

Once upon a time there was a pregnant teenager living in a two bedroom house with her father, brother, sister and cat.

The sister was of an evil sort, making the very pregnant teenager go outside in 300 degree Texas summer heat to water the swamp cooler. She never offered to do it and let the pregnant teenager rest. The brother was not evil but very sensitive stomached and avoided cleaning gross messes at every convenience.

The cat was actually a stray adopted by the pregnant teenager because her wacky hormones ached for something tangible to love since her baby was still inside her and her ex-boyfriend was, well, her ex.

As the story goes the cat unknowingly ingested a large quantity of milk, or rat poison, or powdered laxative, or something. Something that made this afternoon go awfully wrong.

The pregnant teenager was passing through the hallway when she heard a noise commonly heard when she'd been eating Mexican food. Looking about, she saw the cat in what seemed to be a bit of distress, with its face scrunched up and walking bow legged and sniffing for a place to relieve itself. Filled with compassion, the pregnant teenager decided to pick up the cat and carry it to the litter box, thus focusing its efforts to bowel containment.

Or not.

Upon elevation the cat... exploded.

Fecally.
As in the cats bowels emptied its contents in 0.2 seconds.

The fecal matter was sprayed in a mostly circular fashion upon the walls at about waist height, with a small amount on the floor. The pregnant teenager was not unscathed. Where the cat missed the wall in its circular motion it successfully made onto the pregnant teenager, who stood stunned for a full minute before coming to a rather simple conclusion: the cat going to become a stray again. The house was cleared of occupants as the odor of cat feces permeated the house. The friend that was over actually barfed onto the front lawn.

The pregnant teenager called for help in her distress but alas, help did not come. The evil sister laughed from the front porch and exclaimed, "You picked it up!" The brother was desperately trying to keep his kibbles in his stomach, so he was unable to help. This left the pregnant teenager to clean the mess, using no less than three jumbo rolls of paper towels and 1.5 bottles of 409 disinfectant. She then showered in Lysol and threw her soiled clothing in the trash.

Upon returning home from a hard day of work the father asked, "Why is everyone sitting on the porch?"

Thus concludes the tale of the sh*tting cat, who was never allowed into the house again.

Say What?

Since Caleb has been in school his vocabulary has increased and so have his sentences. For example:

"Mom, my church picture is almost gorgeous."

"Dogs will never be understanding cats."

"I am significant."

"That's my view on it, Sissy!"

"SpongeBob is certainly silly."

Yeah. My gene pool at work here. Love it.

Speaking of gene pools, check this out!

Are there secret cloning operations going on in the Navy?!!

The Brain

I have also had a dream in which I visit a certain house, and then years later actually visit it. I chalked this up to a sort of ESP until I found this article at Live Science. It discusses the potential relationship between memory and deja vu. Deja vu, as they define, is your brain's attempt to distinguish between reality and a memory. Basically, when you have a dream about a place, for example a house, it is a creation of your mind. Later on when you visit a house that has a similar feature of your "dream house," your mind experiences deja vu, and it may plug in various elements that it doesn't understand (see this article for more on this phenomenon); therefore, you make yourself believe you have seen the house before.

Did you know that the brain has receptors designed for opiates (morphine) and THC (marijuana)? Did you know that's because our body makes its own version of opiate and THC when we experience pain? Did you know they haven't found the "volume UP" switch for that production?
The brain is such an amazing organ, isn't it?

That Holy Feeling 12 (Fly Away Home)

So the military has decided to fix its major mistake a week or so early, and subsequently Paul is to be home by the end of this week. Major bummer. That means I won't get to drive two thousand miles with my friend and have an awesome time talking and laughing and complaining about our kids. That means I will be flying to Savannah. Alone. There and back. Alone. That's okay though, at least James and I still get to see each other. I feel bad about leaving because Caleb has the nasty booger bronchial stuff again, but I've been praying really hard. I've been doing a Bible study called "Anointed, Transformed, Redeemed" by Priscilla Shrier, Beth Moore and Kay Arthur. I highly recommend it! One thing Beth talks about is how David danced with all his might when his people were carrying the ark of the covenant into Jerusalem, and how we should praise without abandon because God likes us to really thank Him when we are blessed. So I tried it out the other day.

I'm not a good dancer.

I think God laughed a little, but that's okay. He made me, He knows why I have no rhythm.

Meet My Daughter, Chloe

Lily has renamed herself Chloe after the skanky Bratz doll on t.v. Gag. She has put up signs that proclaim "My name is Chloe not Lily don't call me Lily anymore." So now her uncle calls her Chloe-not-Lily and gets her really mad and it's so funny. But I still get to call her Lily because I named her originally. I'm the only one though.

Nickelodeon has this promotion they do during election time called Kids Pick The President, apparently preparing them for their Constitutional duties ten or so years from now. Lily went online and voted for Sarah Palin "because she is the only girl and she's pretty." Hopefully not everyone will vote like she does.

GO OUT AND VOTE!!!!

NOVEMBER 3!!!

No Thanks, I've Had My Fill 3

I don't have many pet peeves. Just a couple. One of them is hard to explain. I cannot tolerate hearing someone rub their feet on the carpet (Zac still loves to irritate me with this one) or rubbing a pillow when I am laying on it. I also CANNOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE, handle a dentist taking a gauze and rubbing my tooth with it for 15 SOLID SECONDS. I can't. It's the sound and the rubbing... eerrrrkkk. I literally couldn't keep my foot from banging on the chair. Seriously. Then when he was done I instinctively cringed and shut my mouth, and he had to do it all over again (he was trying to dry the tooth of all saliva before putting on the crown). I almost cried, y'all. What happened to that spit-sucker thingy? Wouldn't that work?

Yesterday I received my second crowned tooth and that will be my last dentist visit. Forever. I swear. If they're gonna be doing that crap I'd rather knock my own abscessed teeth out with a rusty ice skate, a la Tom Hanks in Castaway. I think I could pull it off.

That Holy Feeling 11 (Faith = Blessings)

Wow, I haven't blogged in a while.

Sorry about that.

If you haven't been keeping up, James and his good friend Paul have been in Georgia for pre-Iraq training since June. Recently we learned that they were going to get four days of R&R at the beginning of November. So my good friend Melissa, who is married to the good friend Paul, and I made plans to drive over and hang out with them during that time. Hang out. Ha ha.

--insert back story here--

Paul is the most unlucky person I know. One day there will be a massive alien attack on Mount Kilimanjaro with seven mountaineers all wearing orange and I can GUARANTEE that Paul will be one of them. He has been in the National Guard for four or five years now, and it has recently been determined that due to a massive error on his recruiter's part, his WHOLE CONTRACT has been invalid. For. Five. Years.

Basically, he went on deployments to Egypt and Iraq on his own volition. He could have said "You know what? I'm gonna blow this Popsicle stand!" and gone home. The. Whole. Time.

HOW IN THE WORLD DOES THIS HAPPEN??

WHAT KIND OF IDIOTS DO THEY HAVE RECRUITING??

--back to original story--

After five years the Army people, or whoever is in charge of screwed up contracts, decide to offer him a chance to get out or get out and enlist active duty Army... two weeks before our planned trip. So if he got released before the trip, I would be flying to Georgia... by myself.

Changing planes three times... by myself.

Renting a car... by myself.

Finding the base.... by myself.

Having an emotional breakdown... by myself.

Of course James leaves the decision to come or not entirely up to me (thanks babe). So I consult Mom, and she tells me in a nutshell that this must be a test from God and that if I show complete faith in God and His willingness to bless us if we ask for it, He will indeed bless.

I am pleased to announce that as of today, Paul will not be leaving Georgia until after the first week of November!! Woo hoo!!

Praise the Lord!!!

Analysis Of A Debate... I Lost Count

1:51 p.m.

Completely started paper over. Pretty sure I wasn't doing it right.

1:52 p.m.

Lots of copying and pasting from previous version of paper.

3:55 p.m.

FINALLY FINISHED.

Length: 6 pages

Words: 2,978

Analyzing A Debate 3

Analyzing debates SUUUUCKS.

2,23o words.

27 more pages of debate to analyze.

Would rather be eating Triple Chunky Hot Fudge Peanut Butter Reese's Cups Swirl with Whip Cream In Your Wildest Dreams ice cream.

Analysis Of A Debate 2

1900 words. Woo hoo!!!

Next big project:

25 slide Power Point presentation about business globalization.

Uuuggghhh.

Why am I doing this again?

Oh yeah.

"Personal enrichment."

The Teenage Years... We Have Arrived!!

"Mom I called my friend Drew, and he's gonna call me back."

"Uh, what?"

--sigh--

"I CALLED my friend DREW and his mom said he would call me BACK."

"How is he going to do that if he doesn't know your phone number?"

"Oh, I gave it to his mom and she wrote it down."

Grrrr.

"Did you now?"

"Yes."

"And which phone number would that be?"

"YOUR phone number!"

--meaning my cell phone--

Grrrr.

For the next three hours I played secretary to my six year old.

"Did he call back yet?"

"No."

"How about now?"

"No."

"Now?"

"NO!!"

Drew did call back. they had an interesting conversation about calling people and giving out phone numbers, which "My mom said I can't tell anyone. But you already have it, so that's okay."

No Thanks, I've Had My Fill 2

I had to go back to the dentist to get my fake crown put on while waiting for my real crown.
I wish I was talking about a tiara.
But I'm not.
I drive to the dentist's office at eight in the morning, so I'm already a little off whack. I get to the office, sit down, and after about ten minutes I get this message from my lower intestines:
EVACUATION COUNTDOWN
10...9...8...
What??
I try to ride it out, but then I get the signs that I need to go NOW.
You know, the cold flashes and goosebumps.
That grab-the-handicap-rail-this-is-gonna-be-fun need to go.
By the time I'm called to the back, I've gone to the bathroom twice, and people in the waiting room are looking at me funny. I don't care. I sit in the dentist's chair (the chair of torture) and take an x-ray and I think it's going to be okay.
But it wasn't.
Back to the bathroom I go, hi ho, hi ho.
When I walk back into the room the hygienist cheerfully asks "Is everything okay?"
I wonder how long it took for her to retrieve that plastic cup from her tonsils.
Apparently not long because in a matter of minutes she has it in my mouth along with the dentist's two instruments and a "cheek pad" that doesn't really pad anything. Then they had the nerve to comment "You sure do have a small mouth. You should consider getting your wisdom teeth removed."
No, YOU should consider removing seven of your fingers. That would be an immense help.
Luckily I made it through the 1.5 hour ordeal with no accidents or interruptions. THAT didn't happen until I got into the car to drive the 30 miles home.
I kid, I kid!
Sorry, no accidents for my lovely, sick minded blog readers.
But I was praying for mercy the whole way home, and made a beeline to the bathroom as soon as I hit the front door.
Maybe I was just nervous.
Maybe I just needed a good blog subject.
Nevertheless, I return to the dentist in two weeks to get my porcelain crown.
(I asked for gold, but my insurance refused to cover it. Bummer.)

Analysis of a Debate

1:32 p.m.
I am currently procrastinating.
I have a three thousand word analysis of a debate due on October 5th.
I have about 200 words so far.
Um...
So...
How is your day going?
2:48 p.m.

Call Mom. Ask how to do analysis of a debate. Get a couple of ideas.
Word count up to 388.
4:17 p.m.
I'm dying.
"Throw me a freakin' BONE here!"
6:13 p.m.
Woo hoo!! Word count up to 1,377!!

That Holy Feeling 10 (Sleep Better, Live Better)

God and I have been going around and around with several issues, namely my insomnia. I guess I stepped when He pulled or something, because I've started taking my sleep meds and spending more time in the Word and voila! I have been sleeping great! In doing so, I have learned:

• Children can be enjoyable.
• It is possible to get up at 7:00 a.m. every day for a whole week.
• I don't really need that donut/cake/cereal/muffin/ice cream.
• Pilates can be fun.
• It is possible to do Pilates every day for a whole week.
• You aren't as irritable when you sleep well.
• It is possible to do your school work every day for a whole week.
• Teenage boys can mistake you for a college student at the ice cream store (ok, I needed THAT ice cream).

Hallelujah!

No Thanks, I've Had My Fill

Last week I went to the dentist to get two cavities filled. I hate the dentist. Aren't they supposed to wait for the numbing gel to take affect before shoving a 12 gauge needle into your gums? I guess not. I also think that God should have put zippers on our cheeks so that the dentist and his assistant could get all four hands in there comfortably. Seriously. I think they had seven instruments in there at one time, telling me to "Move your jaw sideways so we can work here." How about you just pop the joint out and relieve both of our suffering? I guess both cavities were pretty bad because he gave up trying to fill them and said, "I think you should consider getting crowns put on these." I said go for it, he said pay me $600. I sighed.

I also took the kids to the dentist for the first time. Let me tell you, two colors that the hygienist should NOT be finding in one's mouth is yellow and black. Eewww. On the plus side, Caleb did really well, almost falling asleep while his teeth were being cleaned. They couldn't get bite wing X-rays because of his gag reflex, and when asked what flavor of toothpaste he wanted he answered, "All of them?" No cavities for either of them! We had a time trying to convince Lily that the dentist wasn't going to pull a surprise tooth-yank and that the X-ray machine wasn't going to fry her brain, but we finally got her calmed down. She had a lot of plaque, but we got that all cleared up. Woo hoo!!

The Next Winner Might (not) Be You! ! !

Don't you just love those sweepstakes? I do. I recently received a notice int he mail that some car company happens to have a 2009 Chevrolet Malibu Hybrid that they just can't get rid of, so they're going to give it away! And it could be all mine!! Upon reading the fine print, I see this:

"The winner will be informed by registered mail no later than February 17, 2009. In order to win the prize, the selected entrant MUST FIRST CORRECTLY ANSWER A TIME-LIMITED MATHEMATICAL SKILL-TESTING QUESTION TO BE ADMINISTERED BY TELEPHONE.

What?? How ridiculous! Not only to you have to beat out four billion other contestants, but then you have to answer a math question. From the phrase, "time-limited mathematical skill-testing" I suspect the question won't be along the 2+2 lines. Good grief!!

Abreast On Batman

I've had another one of those "how do these things happen to me?" episodes.

I was shaving my armpits in the shower, arm extended, hand on the wall, left hand shaving. When I was done I brought my razor down and across and...

nearly amputated my right nipple.

I kid you not.

So I stood there bleeding and bleeding and bleeding and wondering why I was still bleeding for a few minutes until I could survey the damage. Not deep, but long and perfectly curved around the, uh, nipple part?

Then I decide what the heck, might as well shave my legs; until I nicked my ankle. That was when I decided I'd better quit while I was ahead because shoot, I don't want to cut off anything IMPORTANT.

I get out of the shower and head to the kitchen where the Band-aids are, and all I can find are kid ones. Batman ones. Batman TATTOO ones. Awesome. Batman is now officially abreast.

In other news, check out my additions to the blog! I've added some new links to blogs I read; a couple are downright hilarious! Oh, and I have a follower! Woo hoo! Follow me people!! Also, down at the bottom I have a National Geographic picture of the day thingy and a place where you can subscribe to my blog. Enjoy!!

I Need To Post A New What?!

Sorry folks, with all of this raising kids, going to school, fighting for a good night's sleep, walking in faith and tending to my deployed husband I haven't had much time to blog.

The kids started school and Lily loves it, though she swears up and down that "I did NOT go to school ALL DAY in kindergarten. I came HOME." After a couple of shaky days Caleb has started to like pre-school and has recently told me that "Only the cool kids get to do the chicken dance." Um, OK.

My school started as well. I am taking Business Computers (each chapter is 60+ pages), English (easy), Government (fairly easy, except for the 1500+ word summary I am supposed to write on a debate over global warming...blah), and Psychology (very interesting!). I've always liked Psychology, but so far this course is too easy; I have a total of five assignments for the whole semester (so far). Ever try to explain to a six year old how the different parts of the brain are layered in a skull? "So... the green part goes on TOP of the blue part? I thought the pink part was there. Is it really green?"

Sleep is sleep, I don't get enough of it and I end up taking naps during the day. Last night was an exceptionally good night; hopefully tonight will be too.

I am currently working my way through The Beloved Disciple by Beth Moore. I highly recommend it. The book chronicles the life of John and the ways we can adopt his faith into our lives.

James is still in Texas, though he will be leaving for another state soon. Three months down, twelve more to go!!

Last but not least, I'm voting for Obama and you can't change my mind. Peace out.

Flute Flop

My brother-in-law bought both my kids play flutes.

"Mom!! Hey Mom!! Listen to this!!"

TWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETTT!!!

"Yeah."

"Mom! Hey Mom!! Listen to this one, it sounds like a girl screaming!!"

TWWWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEETTTT!!!!

"It sure does."

"Mom! Hey Mom!! Where are you going?"

"To hide in the bathroom."

Guess what his kids' first birthday present is gonna be? A WHOLE FREAKING DRUM SET.

Sugar And Spice And Everything Nice

On Wednesday I had the privilege to babysit my cousins kids, Ana and Olivia. I didn't get to sit the baby because I don't have the active milk buckets that he requires. Oh well. Granny came over and we had a really great time. We braved Wal-Mart and "Old McDonald's" without too many close calls (Granny did come close to running into the laptop display when Ana and Lily started to argue over whose turn it was to drive her wheelchair). It was especially funny when Lily played the mom, Ana was the big sister and Olivia was "the crazy little sister." Apparently Olivia has this thing for breaking her leg, or both if she can manage. She tried to accomplish this both on the trampoline and on her tricycle, where she would make a couple of laps around the parked cars, stop and very obviously make herself fall over. Then she would sigh, get up and do it again.

"Olivia, what are you doing?"

--big sigh--

"I am TRYING to BREAK my LEGS."

"Why would you want to do that?"

--sigh--

"So they will have to CARRY me."

Um, okay. Someone's mommy needs to start a blog!!

Baby Whats?!

I watched a show recently called "Baby Borrowers." I didn't know if I should laugh or be angry. They select four young couples and give them different aged kids to pseudo-raise for a week while the real parents watch via camcorder across the street. Then they give them elderly adults to care for! I didn't get to see that part, but I wish I could have. NO ONE will have the elderly adult that my mom will be (sorry Ma!). But what I did see of the show kind of irked me because they didn't accurately portray living as young parents in the real world. For instance:

• The couples are given a cute three bedroom, two bath home in a green-grassed cul-de-sac that probably has little crime if any to play house in. C'mon, seriously? Try having them get their own apartment on minimum wage.
• Speaking of minimum wage, they provide them with a job that at least one of them has to work at for eight hours a day. One person working? Not outside of Kansas, Dorothy. Give them a Classifieds and the numbers to a few daycare centers. They'll both need to be working to raise their kid!
• Let them earn only $440 a week and figure out what to do when the bills start to pile up.
• They, like, fight, oh my gosh, about who has to go to work that day! Please!
• One young woman threw a fit because the producers made all the women wear maternity outfits that make them look and feel pregnant. She claimed she just "looked so ugly!" in it. Woo hoo, Dorothy. That's what happens when you get knocked up.
• One woman complained that the child they were given to "raise" cried too much. "He like, never stops crying! Oh my gosh!!" Good grief.
• Another woman didn't wipe the child when she changed his diaper, and another had to try and potty train another. "I swear, if he like poos in his underwear ONE MORE TIME, I'm gonna, like, be mad!" Gosh, one more time? Try twice a day for four years.
• "Like, you're always gone working all day and I have to sit at home and do all this mother stuff, and I like get tired too!" This is hilarious!
• The couple only get to "raise" the child for one week, then it's off to the next age group. Um, isn't this supposed to be a reality show? Give them children in the same age group for a whole month. That will determine"if they're up for parenthood."
• I didn't get to see the elderly people care-taking, but I'm sure it went something like "Oh. My. Gosh. Granny just peed herself again! Like, if John doesn't come home soon I'm gonna, like, scream and be angry! Aaahhh!"

Grandfather's Stories

A weekend or so ago Zac and I went with the kids to visit my paternal grandfather and aunt. We had a lot of fun catching chickens, picking peaches and pears, eating homemade tomatoes and squash and listening to stories my grandfather told. I've always enjoyed his stories ever since I was little, from how he and his neighbor blew up a groundhog hole with dynamite to the parrot who would drink beer and cuss. I can guarantee not many people have stories like his! It's amazing what you can learn from your relatives just by listening to them. You learn to appreciate what you have and stop complaining about what you don't. What amazes me is my grandfather is in his 60's and rides his bike five miles a day! I also like the down-home cooking my relatives make: fresh vegetables from the garden, barbecue pork chops... yum yum! I think Caleb liked it a little too much because on the way home he puked all over Zac's back seat. If that isn't gag-inducing enough, he raked it out with his hand!! Yuck!!

The time spent with my grandfather got me to thinking... if he can ride a bike that far in hundred degree heat at his age, why am I groaning about walking one mile at my age? So I have made an effort to get myself in shape. I've actually gone from a size 18 to a 16! The Tae Bo I started a few weeks ago didn't work out because I started getting back pains again, so it's back to the old Pilates, yoga and lots of praying. I'll keep you updated!

What's Italian For Goodbye?

My brother Zac and his family are en-route to Italy right now. Lucky them. Everyone wish them a happy four years!!

Speaking of leaving, James called this last weekend and said that he could leave camp, so we all piled in the Suburban and headed to Austin. We got to spend a little bit of time with him; the "higher ups" kept changing the times around and it was really frustrating, but I'm really glad we went. Of course we had to do the whole goodbye thing again and that's never easy, but I can do it if it means sex for one night. I'll look back on this post in six months and say to myself, Hardy har har.

I have also enrolled for online college courses this semester, and got a Pell Grant to pay for everything including a new laptop! I'm taking Psychology 1, Government 1, BCIS 1 and English 1. I'm so excited I went and bought book covers and folders that are color coordinated for each subject.

I'm still editing my script and with college starting on the 25th you may not see many blogs, but I'll try! Meanwhile if you like my blog, tell your friends!!

The He-Child Discovers

Caleb and I are in the bathroom today; I am wiping, he is carefully observing the floor. Or so I thought.

"Mom? What are these things for?"

-- holding his scrotum --

"Uh, well, that's what makes you a man."

"Why?"

"Well, because girls don't have those."

-- still manhandling his manhood --

"What are these balls?"

"Uh, those are just part of you."

"Why do they feel like balls?"

"Because they're kind of like marbles."

"Are they green?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Ok."

Where is James when I need him? Oh yeah, in the sandbox.

On a similar note, the dog bit Caleb on the buttcheek a couple of days ago. The dog has since been neutered. I can just imagine what's going through his head:

"Bite butt, snip balls. Bite butt again, snip... aahhh!!"

Beaches

I came to realize on our vacation that I really like the coast. James had a harder time getting me out of the water than the kids (Please can I do just one more wave? Please?). It was so peaceful and pretty watching the waves break and seeing all the beach scallops dig themselves into the sand. The only thing I didn't like was the salt. I couldn't get it off my lips. I think I still taste it. Plus, it gets everywhere!
Do you know how much a pair of water shoes costs in one of those souvenir shops? $11 freaking 50. Do you know how long it takes for a four and six year old to pick out which shell they want to buy? One freaking hour. Do you also know how many steps it takes to reach the entrance to said shop because they are by the coast and are built on stilts? Freaking 30. Ugh.
As a result of our trip I REALLY want to live in Hawaii. Awesome beaches, mild climate, hardly ever gets above 90, lots of sea life. But I don't know yet, we'll have to wait and see.

Vacationing With The B's

I figure it's time to blog about our pseudo-vacation. We all went down to Corpus Christi for a few days before we dropped James off for training. That's right; while everyone was worried about the hurricane, we were the ones saying "Screw it. It's freaking 105 degrees here and I want to swim in the OCEAN." We had a lot of fun, until we had to tell James goodbye. More on that later.
We arrive in CC at around 1 a.m. and the first thing I notice is that it is HUMID. Freaking humid. And our motel is kind of... in the ghetto? Is that the nice way to put it? It wasn't bad, I mean it had running water and all, but it kind of had this boiled egg/burned hamburger smell to it. But hey, it had clean beds and air conditioning for only $60 a night.
The next day we headed down to the beach, where gently rolling waves beckoned. Let me tell you, those gentle waves are only gentle until you wade out to the break line. Then they'll freaking take you (and your tankini bottoms) under. That's right. I can't seem to inhabit a body of water without losing part of my clothing. I was wearing my cute maternity tankini and I love it but the thing is, my bottom half is slightly smaller than my top. That means the top of my bathing suits fit but the bottoms will slip right off if I have my back to a gigantic wave that sweeps me off my feet.
After a few hours at the beach (and tracking down Lily who had wandered off), we headed inland to eat and I can honestly tell you after this trip, I never want to see another fast food restaurant again! We had take out every meal for three days!! After a recouperative night's rest we headed to the farewell ceremony at the armory. Only men would plan a ceremony in a crowded warehouse at noon in Texas during the summer. Thankfully it was a short one, and we quickly booked to the beach again. We collected beach scallops and sea doodle bugs (?), body surfed some waves and guess what? Ate at a freaking restaurant.
Sunday morning we all got up at the crack of dawn to drop James off at the armory. I call this D-Day because it was the last day we got to see him before he left for training and deployment. Now I can take the kids crying, the in-laws crying, the president crying, but for some reason when James starts to cry I get all cracked up too. So we all sat there crying in the parking lot (well, the kids didn't; I think they were still half asleep) and he had to go inside and all that. Then we headed home.
Now we're back and I'm in my usual my-husband-just-left-me-with-the-children-for-a-year funk and Caleb has regressed in his potty training and I'm THIS CLOSE to going insane. On the plus side, the kids will be starting school soon and I'm looking into some college courses to keep me busy.
Oh, and my brother and his family are leaving for freaking Italy in two weeks. Yay.

Rain, Rain, Go Away

James' 20 days of leave are coming to an end. On Thursday we will all travel to Corpus Christi to sit through a boring four hour ceremony instead of spending that time with our soldier. And I have to take my two kids. Grrr.
We had made plans to take the kids to the beach and take a lot of good scrap booking photos and build sandcastles and stuff, but then stinking Dolly showed up. I even found the PERFECT bathing suit for this trip, even though it is from the maternity section... who cares, right? At least in the maternity section I'm only a L, instead of the customary XXL. Woo hoo! Anyway, Dolly is supposed to bring 15 inches of rain and I'm hoping that James' unit will just tell him to wait it out and come next week. I can hope, right?
This 20 days with James has been very good. Lots of family time and eating out. When James is on active duty we tend to make more money, and when we make more money we tend to spend more money, and James decided he needed a knife.
Not just any knife.
An $85, stainless steel, grip handle, cuts through sheet metal, has a "skull crushing handle" and has a leg strap knife, because "I met this guy who had just come back from Iraq and he had one and he said it was good to have one on you just in case, you know, you get into hand-to-hand combat and have to use it, or say an IED hits your vehicle and you have to bust out a window and...."
"Okay, that's enough."
So he starts looking online for a knife. I mean staying up into the wee hours of the morning looking, not just Ebay and buy. For three days he looked, and finally settled on this particular one, I can't even remember the name of it.
"Babe look, it has blah blah blah, and blah blah, oh and look! A blah BLAH blah!!"
"That's GREAT dear."
"Can I get it? Please please please?"
So I agreed that he needed a knife and let him buy it. I mostly wanted to shut him up. Then it came to shipping.
"Hey babe, I called the company and they're based in Tennessee and said it would take four days to ship here. That means it would get here next Tuesday."
"Yup."
"Well, we're leaving on Thursday and what if it doesn't get here by then? I mean what if we leave and RIGHT THEN they deliver it and it has to sit on the porch for three days before you get back?"
"Oh, horror!"
"Seriously!"
"Seriously, you shouldn't have taken three days to decide on what knife you wanted. It will be fine."
--ponder, ponder--
"Okay."
"Thank you."
"What about insurance?"
"Oh good grief!"
"But what if it like, falls and breaks and gets all smashed?"
"It's a freaking stainless steel KNIFE for crying out loud!! It won't get broken!"
"What if it gets... LOST?!"
--shaking my head--
"Then we call the company and ask them to send a new one."
"Or get our money back from UPS."
"Whatever. Do what you want to do."
So he orders his knife and the world starts revolving again. Later on we're lying in bed, I'm trying to go to sleep, and James pops off
"I should have gotten that insurance."
"Go sleep on the couch."
The next four days were the LONGEST four days OF MY LIFE.
Today on our way home from swimming, James turns the corner and lo and behold, there's the UPS truck sitting in front of our house.
"Oh no! Wait WAIT!!!"
He yells and floors it, not even slowing down going over the speed bump, and you can just see the UPS guy's eyes get wider as James flies towards him. By the time we get to the driveway the UPS guy has torpedoed himself inside his truck and starts to pull away and James is yelling, inside the car, "Thank you! Thanks!" and waving frantically.
The knife was fine. I don't think the kids were, though.

Who Wears Short Shorts?

On the way to visit my Dad yesterday Caleb quipps from the back seat "I shaved."

Stunned but prepared, I asked "Really? Where?"

"In the bathroom."

"Yeah, but where?"

"In the BATHROOM!"

"But where on your BODY?"

"My arm."

"Let me see."

So I check it out and indeed his arm is very smooth compared to the other.

"I shaved ALL OF IT off."

"I can see that."

"And I didn't even use SHAVING CREAM."

"Where did you get the razor?"

"From the BATHROOM!!"

Ugh.

Note to self: Hide razors in a higher place.

Granny's Stuff

I love my Granny, but she just has too much stuff.

In the past five years our family has moved her three times, and every time I have been absolutely astonished at the amount of possessions she has. This most recent move my sister-in-law and I packed most of her belongings. Here's just a partial list of some items that we found:

• Five pillows BESIDES the four on her bed, saved because "They're so comfortable and we got them for our 30th wedding anniversary and, well, I just need them." They'd been in a closet for two years.
• Seven complete sets of full size sheets saved "Just in case."
• 17 coffee cups
• Three irons
• Six bread pans
• Ten purses to complement the over 150 (seriously) articles of clothing she owns
• Over 20 pairs of shoes
• Food in the refrigerator with expiration dates from 2005

We did manage to get Granny to give up a few things. Well, a few of the multiples. Then the other day, Mimi calls and tells me that Granny bought five coffee cups at a garage sale and also went clothes shopping! Am I the only one who is screaming OVERKILL?

Swimming With The B's 2

I went swimming the other day with my children and reminded myself why I don't do it often. The kids have been driving me crazy because it's been so hot and I make them stay inside during the heat of the day. I finally reached my breaking point and agreed to take them swimming if they would patiently wait for mommy to squeeze her fat self into her wheezing swim suit. They did pretty good, although my idea of patience may be different from others. Glad I have a lock on my door.
We arrive at the pool and of course Lily jumps in and paddles off to make friends ("Do you know what happened to me? I got stung by a wasp! And my eye swelled up REALLY BIG!!"). Caleb hasn't learned to swim yet so he walked down the steps into the water with me. The He-child I can safely say is a tad less adventurous than Lily when it comes to water. After a few minutes of trying to coax him to at least try swimming, I took him under the arms and tried to pick him up.
The kid went crazy.
I succeeded in picking him up, and he succeeded in grabbing one half of my tankini in his fist and screaming "NOOO!! I DON'T WANT TO MOMMA DON'T TAKE ME OUT THERE PLEASE! PLEASE!" Now the entire shallow area of the pool is staring at us and the only thing I can think to do is to pull Caleb close to me to cover up my almost exposed boob. He gets rigid and starts fighting and pushing me away, and all I want is for him to let go of my bathing suit.
"MOMMA STOP NOOO STOP IT LET ME GO LET ME GO!!"
"Caleb! Let go of my bathing suit and I'll let you go!"
"NOOO!! STOP PLEASE OKAY I'LL SWIM LET ME GO!!"
"Let go of my top first!"
"NOOO!! LET GO LET GO LET GO!!"
So now he's flailing around and pushing me back with both hands now conveniently on my chest. I panic and crouch down into the water to cover myself. Which was a bad idea because now Caleb starts to yell
"HEEELLPP ME!!!!"
and now I have the lifeguard's attention. All three of them. Having decided that he won't let go of his hostage (my boob) unless his demands are met, I turn back to the steps and set him down, which is probably what I should have done in the first place. He stops yelling and lets go, I rearrange my top and I hear Lily say "Yeah. He can't swim yet."
I don't think I was ever really exposed but I didn't have the nerve to ask anyone.

Moving And Groving

So we got moved back to where we left one year ago. We're currently living with my in-laws to both save money and... I guess that's it. Well, also to spend time with them if James decides to go active duty after this tour in Iraq.
My desktop computer is currently on a side table that is exactly two feet tall. FYI, I am 5'6". So here I sit hunched over on one of the kids' teeny chairs tapping out this blog. My butt and thighs are numb.
I started my Tae Bo again. Fourth day straight! Woo hoo!! One pound down, 59 more to go!! I still want a Wii Fit. Maybe if I pout long enough James will but me one. Or I could wear a baggy shirt the next time I go to my cousin's house....
On a lighter note (ha ha), I believe I've mentioned before Caleb's facination with breasts. Particularly big breasts. More specifically Nana's big ones. While he has cut down on groping her and I in public ("Nana. Nana. NANA! *honk* Nana!!"), he still makes offhand comments like "Nana, I sure would like to see one of those..."
My kids are on a bug kick right now. Catching them, examining them, letting them die all alone in the bug catcher.... Today I found a jumping spider held captive in a plastic bubble (the kind you get out of crap vending machines) and mounted onto the wall with poster putty. I caught it just before it suffocated.

Aunt Monkey

I think my nephew has taken to calling me "Monkey" now. Awesome.
He and I were checking out at the store and I heard very plainly "monkey." Now, Zayden usually doesn't just pop off a random word, in fact he is very particular about what he says and when he says it. So I commence acting like an idiot saying, "Did you say monkey? Wow! Say monkey, Zayden! Say monkey again!"
What is it about little kids that have those looks that make you feel so stupid? Zayden has a very good one, and he was wearing it as I enthusiastically tried to get him to say what I KNOW I heard. But he didn't, so I gave up.
Yesterday my bunch and I saw Zayden and his staff at Wal-Mart, and we stopped and talked to them for a minute. Shortly after saying our goodbyes, my SIL called me back over and informed me that he said monkey again. That leads me to only one logical conclusion:
He knows me as Monkey.
I don't know why. My name is Talia and my nickname is Tally, neither of which sound like monkey. Personally, I would rather be called "ook" or "geek," hey even "Bom Bob." Nope. I guess I'm stuck with Monkey.

Type B

I took a test online to see if I had a Type A or a Type B personality. Surprise, surprise:

"You seem to be far from having a Type A personality. Your attitude to life is more of the "smell the roses" kind. You know how and when to relax. The hostile, aggressive and competitive part of you surfaces rarely. You are easy to be around, and people tend to feel relaxed and comfortable in your presence. It's a very healthy attitude towards life. Just make sure you don't miss important opportunities because of being too cool and relaxed. Picking up a challenge and competing a little bit for your place in the sun can add some spice to your life."

I like being relaxed. It makes life more fun! Who do you know that is uptight, stressed, irritable but HAPPY? I'm not so laid back that I'm apathetic; I still have emotions. Well, hormones I should say. For instance, I was excited when James got home two days ago from training. I was ecstatic to get to the hotel. I was happy to hang out with friends. I was dreading the four hour ride home. See? I also have many spices in my life, namely James, Lily and Caleb. I also have a new kitten and two dogs and a blog, and I am actually trying to decrease my place in the sun by losing weight. Now leave me alone so I can calmly watch my children play with matches.

Two Years Down

Holy crap. I've been blogging for two years back on March 12th. I now have roughly 113 raw pages of blog that maybe one day I will publish. Consider yourself lucky that you're reading it for free.
Ha ha ha.

I Want A Hunk Like That!

Ah, it's good to have the Internet back. I was tired of going to the library to pay my bills and stuff. Plus, I can't concentrate in a library to blog. I don't know what it is. All the books or something. Like my words are inferior to theirs... I'll stop.

James is in training for a little while and I've entered wife-of-a-deployed-soldier mode. You know: phone attached to me 24/7, taking control of the finances (oh wait, I already do that...), budgeting money for said soldier, being both mom and dad to the kids, getting extremely frusterated when soldier won't go into detail about what they're doing in training, etc. because he's SO convinced the Taliban are listening in on THIS PARTICULAR CONVERSATION, sex withrawals... blah. I get depressed even thinking about it!

Caleb turned four a few days ago. I am proud to announce that he is 100% fully potty trained!! Yeah!! I haven't had to buy new underwear for a whole week! He's on this Incredible Hulk kick, only he calls it the Vicious Hunk. I love it when he gets mad at me and loudly proclaims that "I'm getting into a vicious hunk, Mom!!" Woo. I'm scared. Bring it on.

Lily has been in a kind of funk lately. I think she's getting bored like I am. We both just sit on the couch and ho-hum to each other. But with it being 100 degrees outside, there's not much to do but swim, and even that gets expensive. We work it out though.

Sunday we hung out with my cousin and her family. There's nothing like playing with a chubby baby to lift your spirits! Oh, and they have a Wii Fit that I am so going to steal. You can measure your BMI and hoola hoop and all sorts of stuff. I've actually lost two more pounds.

I am in a "vicious" cycle. I don't sleep well, so I don't have enough energy during the day to exercise, which keeps me fat and causes me not to sleep well. I did a little research and figured out that I don't sleep well pretty much because of my antidepressants. GREAT. They may also be the cause of my twitching at night. Did you know that your brain is less active while watching t.v. than it is when you're asleep? Do you think that's why I feel more rested after watching t.v. than when I wake up in the morning? Why am I asking a computer?

I think I need to go to bed now..... whatever good that will do me....

I'm Still Here!!!

I've moved, unpacked, reattached, ordered the internet AND will be back soon!!!

I Died Yesterday.

I really think I did. You see, I had an endometrial ablation done. It's where they go in and... hey, I provided a link. Go see for yourself. Sorry if I come across a bit... grumpy. You would be too if you smelled burnt poon every time you took a pee. I had no problem with the procedure and all (although in my stupefied anesthetic funk I faintly recall telling the doc about the kids finding James' vagina...), but what they failed to tell me was that shorty after arriving home I would have cramps akin to delivering my own uterus. I kid you not. I have a fairly high pain tolerance (I was enduring contractions with nary a grunt when I was six cm dilated in labor with Lily) and that shiz SUCKED. I am officially better now. If you're ever bored on a slow weekend, consider one of these. NOT.

Vag Finder 3

Note to self: Hide toys better.
James was deployed to Egypt in 2006 for a year and well, deployments get lonely. So I did what any loving wife would do and mailed him a suitable substitute, which he brought home when he came back. For some reason, it failed to reach the trash can. In packing the other day I found it and, rather than throw it on top in the trash box, I put it on the top shelf of the closet for a more discreet disposal later. Then I took a nap.
Guess what I woke up to?
Yup. A pink vagina dangling in my face by my six year old who is asking
"MOM!! What is THIS?!"
I grabbed it, chastised them for being in my closet and hustled them downstairs. Let me assure you that NO parenting manual has a chapter on this. Later on I told James about it and we had a good laugh. That evening my darling children come traipsing upstairs right into my closet, and we hear:
"Caleb, where did you put it?"
"I dunno."
--rummage, rummage--
"I can't find it!"
"Wow! A guitar!"
"Caleb! Help me look!"
"Look at this Sissy! A guitar!"
So they come out and Lily says to me, eyes sparkling:
"Mom, where did you put that thing?"
"Uh, what thing?"
"That PINK THING that was in that bag!"
Caleb: "Yeah that thingy that looks like your BODY."
Oh great.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"MOM. That thing we gave you that sticks to the WALL."
By now James is beet red and I'm laughing so hard I almost pee myself.
"Mom where did you put it? I want to see it!"
Caleb: "Let's stick it to the wall Sissy!"
"Lily, what did you do with it when you found it?"
"I got it, and gave it to Caleb, and then we took it out and looked at it, and we stuck it to the wall and it STUCK! and then I brought it to you. Mom, what WAS that thing?"
James: "Anyone hungry? I'm gonna get a bowl of cereal...."
"Well Lily I just found it in the closet and I threw it away."
"But MOM, we wanted to play with it!"
Caleb: "And stick it to the WALL!!"
Ugh. Pardon me, I need to go put my toy in the safe. I can hear it now:
"Look Mom, we found a SWORD!!"

I Need A Tonic To Go With My Gyn, Please

Don't you just LOVE those yearly below the waist exams? Who came up with this crap? Ugh. I only do it because... well... I guess they're good for some reason. Anyway I went the other day for my annual and it wasn't really remarkable except for the mirror.
The exam room had a full length mirror in it. Try as I might, it is positioned just so that you HAVE to undress in front of it. How horrifying. Interestingly enough, it is also positioned so that when your gyno is elbow deep in vagina you can see what she is doing. Kind of. From a side view. But you can still see her!!
Ugh. What's up with all that lube? That stuff NEVER comes off you know. I wonder what brand it is, because it SUCKS. I'm bringing my own next time. And why does it smell so funky? I KNOW that's not me. I smelled rosy before I got here. I have a husband you know, one I have to make excuses to because even after five years there's no way I'm offering THAT FUNK for his pleasure.
Why do they have to be so violent with your cervix when they scrape it? There are nerves down there, you know. That evil Q-tip from Hades HURTS, now stop! Why do they need two scrapings? One for the office scrapbook? Then for the mauling of the ovaries and uterus. Stop it!! My gyno told me I have a small uterus. I wish my thighs could take a hint. And why do they try and carry on a normal conversation with you while they palpate your breasts? PLEASE. Just get it over with so I can get dressed in front of your terrible mirror.
Am I the only one who hides their underwear inside the pocket of my shorts just in case my clothes get knocked to the floor?
On a side note, I'm getting an endometrial ablation done on Tuesday. That's where they fry your inner lining so that your harsh periods will stop. Sounds like fun, huh?

House Of (No) Poo

If Caleb was having gross poop explosions last week, we have reached the other end of the spectrum completely.

Now the kid won't poop at all.

His doctor recommended we give him a teaspoon of mineral oil up to three times a day to help his bowels pass without much pain.

He has now consumed six teaspoons of mineral oil without one pebble of poop.

He just went to Nana's today. I think she's in for a BIG surprise.

Bagged

I saw a billboard the other morning actually telling these gangsters to pull their pants up! It was hilarious, it had a picture of a granny on there and she was saying "Pull those pants UP!!" I don't understand how they walk, honestly. This kid the other day had his pants below his butt cheeks with his belt cinched up so that they wouldn't fall. He was walking bowlegged too. If I was a single chick looking for a decent guy, I would NOT be looking twice at these dudes. Come ON. What if they fell off? For one they wouldn't have far to fall, they're almost on the ground anyway. If that happened to me I would feel embarrassed, not gangsta cool. Good grief. My son will NEVER hang his butt out like that, which I don't have much to worry about because he has his daddy's no-butt.

That Holy Feeling 9

Lily and I were conversing on the way home from visiting our family and she began to ask a lot of God related questions. It went something like this:

"Mom, what is the Holy Spirit?"

"It's the part of you that can communicate with God."

"How does it do that?"

"When you pray. The Spirit also helps you grow into a good Christian."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You know that little voice in your head that when you start to do something bad says, 'Oh, you better not do that!'?"

"Yeah?"

"That's the Holy Spirit guiding you to make the right decision."

--silence--

"Do you have any other --"

"Mom wait!!"

"What?"

"God is talking to me!"

"What's He saying?"

"I don't know, I have to listen!"

Then she asked a few more questions that I can't recall. If only she listened to me as well as she listens to Him.

We Got A New Car!!!

Yeah!! We got a new car!! It's a 2008 Dodge Caliber (hey, I remembered!). It's silver and it has a sunroof and we got it for $19K and it has a lot more room than the other car and.... I'm rattling aren't I? You know what was funny, I kind of hated to see the Monte Carlo go; I guess because it was my first brand new car. The day after we got the new car I remembered I had left the CD's in the old car, so I ran up to the car lot to get them. While the saleslady went to get the old car I actually found myself anticipating seeing the old car! Isn't that weird? Then I was like, Hey old friend! One last goodbye! But I didn't cry, so that was good.

But the new car has presented some new problems, and I think they are unique to me. So far I have gotten the windshield wipers stuck to ON, driven a few miles in the dark because I couldn't freaking figure out how to get the lights on, bumble-boobed my chest on the steering wheel when I forgot about how good the new brakes work, and almost had a wreck trying out the new stations on the SIRIUS satellite radio. That thing is cool. It's like having a TV in your car! Oh wait, people have those already? Huh. Go figure.

Here, Kitty Kitty

I love my friend's kids.

They're so.... indescribably unique.

I gave her a couple of tampons to try, and a few days later she found her seven year old son with one unwrapped, dangling it over the side of his bed, trying to lure the cat out by swinging it back and forth. Classic!

Today I spied a paper plate with the following message written by her eight year old daughter:

"Bye Mom. I am becoming a homeless person because I can't take Skylar. (turn over) I'll visit you on holidays. She presses my self-destruct button." My friend told me she actually had a bag packed with a change of clothes, her CD player and a can of Lysol to disinfect the spot she chose to sleep. This is the same child that told me I didn't make her feel peaceful. She kind of freaks me out, to be honest.

We have discovered that Lily is allergic to cats, which really sucks because she really loves cats. I have to remind her to put the cat down and she always replies "Oh I forgot. I'm lellergic."

House Of Poo 2

INSTRUCTIONS FOR CLEANING UP EXCESSIVE FECAL MATTER FROM YOUR VIRUS-RIDDEN SPAWN

1. Carry spawn to bathroom and commence vomiting into toilet from foul smell and liquidity of mess.
2. Strip spawn, turn shower head to jet and hose spawn off, gagging.
3. Sidestep fecal mess to retrieve clean clothes for spawn.
4. Return to bathroom, turn shower head to "paint stripping blast" and annihilate the very bacteria from spawn's soiled clothing and bathtub.
5. Gather the following: 160 baby wipes, 2 cans of Lysol, carpet stain remover, old dishrag, warm water, 3 plastic bags and air freshener. Rubber gloves a plus.
6. Gag some more while using the previously listed items to remove and sanitize all eight fecal spots on the white carpet.
7. Decide that you've lived here more than a year and you won't get your deposit back anyway, cease trying to get stains out of carpet.
8. Tie up bags and dispose of waste. Gag.
9. Lysol everything that may have entered your peripheral vision since the explosion occurred. SATURATE WELL.
10. Place can of Lysol in a safe place and wash hands and forearms in scalding water with bleach and antibacterial soap (even if you used gloves, because you never know).
11. Using second can of Lysol, disinfect first can.
12. Spray generous amount of air freshener and put away cleaning products.
13. Call husband and inform him that his shift starts 5 minutes before he gets home tonight.

Guess That Sound!

Quiz: What goes
WWAAARRRRLOOOOOPPP RRRUUUUUPPPPP
PLOP SPLASH
????????
Give up?
The sound of my son's stomach rumbling and the subsequent release of fecal matter onto the white carpet.
Note to self: when battling a recurrent stomach bug, DO NOT dress he-child in boxer briefs. They don't hold up well.

Those Genes Look Good On You! 4

In relation to the last post on this page, I love listening to Caleb play his computer games!!
I'm gonna get you!!
Come back here, you panty-head butt booper!!
Get back here!
What the...
Oh gosh!
You butt face poopy head!!
I'm gonna shoot you! BAM BAM BAM!!
Oh, don't get me!!
NNNNOOOOOO!!!!
I losted.

Someone Give This Woman A Raise!!

Man I hate when people make a psychiatric screw up.
I recently filled my prescription for my Wellbutrin XL at Walgreens and they gave me the generic, which I thought would be OK since generics are basically the same as name brand, right? WRONG. All of a sudden I was catapulted into the I-want-to-cry-after-I-eat-your-arm-for-pissing-me-off zone, and I wasn't comfortable at all. Neither was my husband. I think he was scared, actually. So then I had to call my doctor to get him to fax a request that my meds be dispensed AS WRITTEN instead of SCREW IT UP IF YOU CAN MANAGE.
"Dr. Boo Bop's office, can I help you?"
"Maybe. I dunno."
"Do you need to make an appointment?"
"No, I recently came in and had Boo Bop renew my prescription for my medicines and Walgreens gave me the generic and I need him to fix it NOW."
"Can I have your name please?"
--blah blah--
"OK... can you describe your symptoms for me?"
--The Exorcist voice--
"They call me Legion, for we are many..."
"Oh, well let me just give this note to Boo Bop and we'll have you fixed right up in a jiffy OK?"
"That will be acceptable. Thank you."
I want to commend this woman because she got him to call very quickly (the same day, which is unheard of in doctor-ville), but my stupid insurance company pulled the "you just filled an identical prescription 10 days ago" crap and no amount of green vomit or head turning could get me a refill for 8 business days. Grrr.

House Of Poo

The two households which are the B's and the E's have been passing the stomach bug back and forth for a week now. Seriously, every time we go over there at least two kids get sick, and when they come over... wait, they never come over! But that's OK, I know it's easier to get two kids into a vehicle instead of four. Caleb was the most recent victim and I thought I was going to die of suffocation. I could SEE his stench, people. But the way he waddled over to me to change his pull-up was kind of funny, and his yelling "Mom, when will I stop poopin'!!" was hilarious.
Caleb is getting to the stage where he's saying really cute stuff and performing silly antics and such. Yesterday he proudly proclaimed that "I AM A WEENIE!!"

Pregnant She-male

On MSN yesterday I saw an article about a man claiming he is five months pregnant with his and his wife's baby. I had to click on it, y'all. Turns out, "he" was actually born a she and transgendered into a male. Grew body hair, removed the breasts, etc. but still kept his female parts. Thus, with the help of a sperm donor and some in-vitro, "he" is pregnant. Now I don't know about you, but that pisses me off.
WOMEN are supposed to have babies. It is a FEMALE thing. How can you masquerade as a man and be pregnant? Do you want to be a man or a woman? It flies in the face of God's design for us. I'm pretty sure He's shaking His head as this progresses. They go on to explain that they will raise their daughter as mother and father. How are they going to explain that when she grows up? Good grief.

The He-Child Poops!!!

I can hardly believe it!!
Caleb has been pooping in the toilet for TWO DAYS NOW!!
Can I get a WHOOP WHOOP?!!!
I don't know how to explain it other than yesterday morning something (almost audibly) clicked. He loves to proudly exclaim "I'm such a big boy now!" as he's bent over and I'm wiping his butt. I think Mimi's reading-while-he-sits-on-the-potty idea helped.
On the down side, he no longer wears underwear.
He says it helps him go poop better.
Hey, whatever works right?

Buy Now, Pay (big time) Later

I have heard many radio commercials advertising discount Lasik procedures. WHAT?!! If someone is going to be hacking on my eyeball with a laser it sure won't be a two-bit college drop out who needs a quick $500. That's just stupid! Like people who go out of the country for cheap dental/cosmetic work and get all screwed up. HELLO?!! What did you expect? I paid $4400 for my Lasik, and I would pay it again, because he was a REAL doctor with a REAL degree.
Some people may be asking, What if these doctors are real and just want to help the underpaid people who have horrible vision?
Well for starters, the most advanced equipment costs a cool $2 million, and if you're doling out Lasik procedures for $500, how in the heck are you paying for the equipment? Second, cheap procedures aren't going to help pay off that medical school these docs supposedly went to. Third and finally, I believe that medically you get what you pay for. I for one don't want to come out of anesthesia with burned eye balls, blasted teeth and crooked nipples.

Up, Up and Away!!

Caleb has entered the questioning stage. I am daily bombarded with thousands of questions about everything, everyone, and anyhow. Many of his questions are asked while he is watching a movie.
"Mom, what are toymites (termites)?"
"TER-mites. They are little bugs that eat wood."
"Why do toymites eat wood?"
"Caleb, it's TER-mites."
"But Popeye says toymites."
"Yeah, but it's really TER-mites."
"Why does Popeye have toymites?"
"I don't know. Sometimes they just come around."
"And they eat your house?"
"No, not the whole house. This is just a cartoon."
"Mom, how come toymites can't eat Popeye's house now?"
"He rebuilt it out of steel."
"Mom, what is steel?"
"It's a very hard metal."
"Mom, toymites might eat steel tomorrow."

I find it so cool to tell my kids about new things. One morning it was about the solar system. Lily wanted to know why it was morning but we could still see the moon, and I explained to her about Earth and how it rotates around the sun, etc. Then I went on to explain that there were many planets, but only one with humans on it.
"Mom, can we go to the planets?" Lily asks.
"Well, people have been to the moon but that's it."
"Why are they not going to the other ones?"
"They're really far away."
"We better get a fast rocket ship!" Caleb quips.
"Even the fastest rocket would still take a long time to reach other planets. Imagine if you got on one today and it traveled as fast as it could go, you still wouldn't get to the farthest planet until you were almost 100 years old!"
--a collective WOW--
"But mom, I just want to be six when I get there!"

On a side note, Great Expectations did not live up to my expectations. I was interested in it; I just didn't want to put in the effort to try and decipher the old worldly text. I think I'll stick with good old John Steinbeck.

Weight Hate

I hate scales.
I really do.
One says 235, another says 229, and still another says 239.
What the heck?
What kills me is I step on Melissa's and it says 229 like it should. Then I get off and step back on and it says 235. Then I try again and it says 234. Every time!!
I think maybe I need to focus on getting taller instead. They say yoga stretches your spine and can add an inch to your height.
Yeah right.

Jammin'

I was on my way home tonight and a cool song came on the radio. I really liked it and I was jamming out when I realized I was car-dancing to Michael Jackson's "Beat It."
Oh well.

For Your Reading Pleasure

I found some of my old poems today. Talk about morbid! They all talk about dying and crap. Good grief. Let us all take a moment to thank the Lord for pharmaceuticals and those who dole them out. I've begun a new phase in my reading. I've gone from Stephen King to the classics. Today I came home from the library with Tolstoy, Steinbeck, Dickens, Dickinson, Dumas and Twain. What was I thinking? I started War and Peace thinking that since it has been hailed as "the best novel ever written" it must be good, even at 1300 pages. Right? WRONG.
I couldn't even get through the first fifty pages. I'm not a stupid person but these sentences were so complicated, using words in an order I have never seen before, that I felt utterly retarded! Bah humbug! So now I am working on Great Expectations, which looks promising. I'll let you know.
The children are at Nana's for Spring Break. Now I have no company except the nine books I brought home from the library today. I am so very bored.
So bored.
Bored.
Bored.
Bored.
People, I was so bored I was farting and laughing at myself.
Lily called me today and said she was losing a tooth, "FINALLY. NOW I can be like JOSH and ALEXIS, they don't have any TEETH." Uh, okay. Then Nana told me she didn't have a loose tooth, but that it looked like she was trying to get a molar on the right side of her mouth. Poor kid, always disappointed.
It rained all day today so I opened my window and listened to it while I wrote. I have always wanted to write a complete book but I never have. Just to give you a taste...
'She shook with fear and said "I hate you!" to which he replied, "I never asked you to love me."'
Spooky stuff huh?
I've been contemplating whether I should introduce some preschool stuff to Caleb or not, since he may be going this fall. I got online (love the Internet) and printed off a page where you had to draw a line from the letter to the picture that started with said letter. We sit.
"Caleb, what is this?"
"A crab!"
"Right! What does crab start with?"
--blank stare--
"Does it start with a cuh like a C, an err like an R, a buh like a B, or a fuh like an F?"
"B!"
"What does crab START with?"
--blank stare again--
"Does it start with cuh, err, buh or fuh?"
"Buh!"
"No, what does it START with? It ENDS with buh, but what does it START with?"
"Uh... B!"
Okay. So much for preparatory work (look at my big words!).

10 Down, 70 To Go

I am now weighing in at 229.6!!!
Go me!!!!

For The Love Of Scrapping

I've started scrap booking. Thanks Melissa. Its a very fun hobby and I enjoy making layouts, finding pictures, buying scissors, buying paper, buying punch out letters, buying special glue sticks... ok maybe my new hobby is spending money....
What I do not like is copying the pictures to put into the scrap book. Nine times out of ten they either don't scan right or don't print right. Wal-mart does have a pretty good Kodak kiosk that copies and prints pretty well.
I went there yesterday and stuck my memory stick into the machine. As I scrolled through the pictures, I came across some that were.... uh... not of my face. Or James'. I swear I actually heard the two little old ladies behind me gasp as I yanked out the stick and pounded on "Print Order" as fast as I could. Needless to say, I didn't get all the pictures printed that I had intended. I am SO glad Lily wasn't there. Oh. My. Gosh. She has this talent of making a horribly embarrassing situation WORSE.
Anyway, I mosey over to Melissa's town and I still had eight pictures to scan and print. So I gathered my courage, stuck Lily and Caleb in a buggy and headed to the Kodak picture maker. One of them was out of order. The other was being occupied by a woman who was talking very loudly on her cell phone. She stuck in her memory card, scrolled through a couple of pages of pictures, hit "Select All" and proceeded to print 233 4X6 pictures. Apparently she thought "Select All" meant select all the pictures on the screen at the time. No joke people. The kids were being entertained with a bag of doughnuts so I figured what the heck, I really needed these copies to scrap. So we waited. Here are just some snippets of conversation I had the pleasure of hearing while I waited for 45 minutes:

"Yeah, my baby daddy he be trippin' cause I tole him I hope his truck burn up in a motha *** fire or su'in cause he thank its mo' 'portant than his keed!"
"Girl, I hope they's enough paper fo yo pitchers!"
"Yeeh, dat my baby gurl right thurr, she all cute in hurr pink hoodie look like her daddy and all!"
"*** I di'nt know it be printin' like 200 of the sum***ches!!"
"Carl! CARL! This be makin' all my pitchers and stuff an not makin them into a CD!"
"Girl I think I gon run outta paper, I di'n know it be printin' all these, I'm soory!"

Yes, as it spit out print after print she made two picture Cd's of everything on her memory card. I don't even know why I waited. I guess because I love scrap booking so much and I thought on maybe the tiniest offhand chance I may get eight more to print when she was done, and the kids were being really good. Sure enough, it ran out of paper. Then she starts complaining because it didn't print out all 233 pictures, but only 189. Then there was this, my favorite part:

"CARL!! It done run out the paper, and I ain't get 'em all! You got more paper back in 'ere?"
--No--
"Kin you get sum dat paper outta that machin' right thurr? It be the same right?"
--No--
"D***. Well I guess I coulda ax Carl to cancel the *** pitchers 'cause I ain't be gettin' all my pitchers today an'way!!"

WAIT. The thought of cancelling the whole order crossed your mind?? Why didn't you cancel it?? Why am I still standing here?? THEN Carl kindly points me to a machine around the corner that will scan my pictures and print them out in 30 minutes. Gee, thanks Carl. So I scan my eight pictures while Miss Thang over there goes on and on about not getting all her pictures and then starts making remarks about the price of 2 picture Cd's and 189 prints. Hint: it was upwards of $50. No joke. The kids and I walk around the toy isle for 30 minutes and then pick up the pictures and guess what?
They look like CRAP.
By then I am thoroughly pissed at Wal-mart and the human population in general, so I storm out of there, go to Melissa's and scan my pictures.
They printed beautifully, and we had a spectacular time scrapping.
Until the kids woke up and poured three bottles of cleaning detergents onto the bedroom floor. Lily swears she was coerced into it, but I have a feeling she didn't put up much of a fight.

That Holy (?) Feeling 8

I don't know where how to classify this event, so I'll just go with Holy Feeling.
The paranormal is a pretty interesting subject. Psychics, telekinesis, telepathy, television; you know what I mean. I think some people have a God-given gift but most are just crap.
I've had a couple of... odd things happen to me throughout my life. Feeling watched, dreams about places that I see months or even years later, deja vu type stuff. Looking in to this kind of stuff really makes you wonder just how complex our brains are and how much about it that we don't know. Praise the Lord that He still has the blueprint, because I know no human could ever reproduce it. It's really insane.
Anyway, I was driving to pick up Lily one of the past 10 or so days ago. As I approached the stop sign a young kid in a white hoodie ran across the street to the corner. Not enough for me to slam on the brakes but you know. Then a vision flashed in my head of me actually hitting this kid. I mean slam thump thud hitting him. It didn't last long. I pulled to the stop sign and stopped and looked to my left, because I was turning right. No one was coming. Normally I don't look to my right because I'm not turning left and therefore do not need to know if anyone is coming from that direction (sorry Mom). So I turn...
and miss that stupid kid in the white hoodie by INCHES. Apparently he'd decided to cross the street a few seconds before I turned. Now tell me that isn't weird!!

The He-Child Sings And Other Things

I've been reading a lot of Dr. Seuss lately. Can you tell?
That song by Marky Mark, "Good Vibrations," came on the radio and Caleb was in the back seat saying "Uhhh.... yeah.... uhhhh......uh huh... Mom, this is my favorite song!!"

Lily got glasses two weeks ago. They cost $375 because they had to have a prism and bifocal lenses (thanks, Z, for that contribution). She looks so cute!

Lily type:
1 is the best number uv oll.

Scope Poke

James recently had a scope done by his gastrologist to determine if he had any ulcers, green mold etc. in his stomach. I escorted him to the hospital to drive him home after the procedure. When he finally had the thing done (they didn't have him scheduled for that day, or any other day for that matter; the usual 2 hour waiting room wait time and another hour "behind the curtain"), I was looking forward to getting out of there because I was hungry and grumpy and stuff. But no. We had to wait another 30 minutes to make sure "he handles the anesthetic alright." He didn't die when you put him under, he's fine now! So I endured 30 minutes of my husband coming off of his high.


"Whoa!! That was amazing!! They like wheeled me in there, put this thing on my face, and I was like asleep! Just like that! It was like the best short nap EVER. What was that stuff? Can you like buy it? I bet I would sleep a lot better at night. Hey, probably you would too! That was so cool, I was like OUT LIKE A LIGHT and then BAM I was in here. I gotta call Justin and let him know everything went well. We put up some of those lights in that house on the lake. See how they are recessed like that? That was so awesome. BAM!! OUT!! Is that the pictures of my stomach? Wow! It looks kinda cool! What are those bumps, do you think they're normal? I didn't even feel that scope thing, I mean I saw it but I went to sleep so fast and wow, it was over quick! Hey you should keep these pictures and scrapbook them! Wouldn't that be cool? No? Are you sure? Man, I'm hungry. Can we leave now? Wendy's sounds sooo good right now. One of those bacon double cheeseburgers, maybe like TWO I'm so hungry!! Oh hey nurse! Yeah, doing good just kind of hungry. Did you see my pictures? Gross huh? Yeah I wanted to get this done because I might be deployed here pretty soon and my parents were all worried that I would get over there and have something like MAJORLY wrong, so I thought I'd get it checked out, you know, calm the parents down. Can we take these pictures? Are you sure? Cool, thanks!"


Then I had to take his high self to Wendy's. It was fun. Then I went to Melissa's and left him at home to come off his high alone, because when you're the only sober one it sure isn't fun.

The He-Child Fibs

Lately we have been struggling with Caleb fibbing. Small things, I know, but eventually they will grow into larger things. We're just trying to get it under control now while we still can.

Papa: "Whoa boy, it stinks in this bathroom!"
Caleb: "Mimi did it."
Mimi: "I did not!!"

Me: "Caleb, did you draw on the counter?"
Caleb: "Uh, nope."
"Are you sure?"
"Uh, yeah?"
"Come here and look at it."
--trudges over--
"See, that looks like scribbles. Lily usually draws names, hearts and caricatures of her family members. This looks like something you would do."
--smiles, looking up at me--
"So... did you draw on the counter?"
"Uh, nope!"
"Who do you think did?"
"Uh, Lily!"
"Lily isn't here. It's just you and me, and i don't draw on counters."
--smiles--
"So I think you need to go get a washcloth and clean this off."
"Uh, okay!"

Weight Loss Motivation

I went to the doctor a few weeks ago because I haven't been sleeping well. Actually, I hadn't been sleeping at all. She ran all these tests that required quarts of blood and my liver enzymes came back elevated. On I went to the imaging center to have a sonogram done. They got the results back today and guess what? I have a fatty liver. The doctor said to diet and exercise and come back in three weeks for follow-up blood work. But the best part was when she said that in three months if my levels weren't normal she would be lowering or eliminating my antidepressants ("You know, because regular exercise produces endorphins and maybe you won't even need those medicines!"). I looked at her point blank and said "No you won't." Flabbergasted, she said "Uh, what?" I told her we wouldn't be messing with my antidepressants because I've tried it and it DID NOT WORK. She said we will see in three months.

I don't think she really understood how close she came to being beheaded with the sheer force of my brain waves. You don't mess with a crazy person's medications, especially if you're an R.N., C.N.P. If anyone is going to play Russian Roulette with my head, it's going to be a doctor with as many psychological letters behind his name as scholarly possible.

But if she insists, I could always do what my mom suggested: move in with her until my fatty liver is gone and I can restart my antidepressants.

On a lighter note (pardon the pun), I've lost 5 pounds!! WOO HOOO!!!!!

Lily's First Paragraph

"Mom liks wrc. Dad liks wrc to. I lik et and Mom dusnt plas (play) weth us. But Dad plas weth us." Yes, I do!!

Have you ever had writer's block? If you want to know what it feels like, pick a wall in your house, back up 3 feet and run into it repeatedly. There you go.

James got a laptop and I'm feeling, uh, left out of the fun.

A bass guitar: $169.00

PlayStation 2: $130

Guitar Hero 2: $80

Acer laptop: $710

A low maintenance wife: priceless