Ending the month, with a smile

Happy Birthday, to Grandma, my Mother-in-Law.
There is no better way to compliment her than to shine a bright light on the accomplishments of her children. I am continually amazed by mothers. By mothers with one child, three children and especially, many more.
Grandma has raised five children, who are kind, loving, beautiful and extremely funny. More important; she has raised exceptional parents, siblings that are friends and aunts and uncles that invest more time in their nieces and nephews than most parents would. Each child is artistic, faith-based and choose to pass their time together as buddies. (All the time, seriously...we see each other..ALL the time.)
She has raised babies, who find their greatest joy, in raising even more babies. Blessing her with Thirteen beautiful and equally as close grand-children.
Each shining, amazing, brilliant quality her children possess are a testament to her mothering. Grandma is at the helm of a very large family, which she has created to feel close, tiny and comfy. I am very honored, to be included, among this group.


(photograph taken by Tink!)

I appreciate you, for your lunches at the DQ, for loaning me 'your baby', for immediately enveloping my children with love and most important...for your Scotcharoos.
Oh, and the Buckeyes.
The other stuff is great but the endless supply of sugar coming my way, keeps me happy.
Happy Birthday. Take a break and enjoy a little 'me time'...you deserve it.

TGIF

There is a big ol' dump truck in my driveway...and that makes me very happy.
Bye, bye...junk.
Happy Friday, to me.



Thanks Grandpa, for being the kind of farmer who has a dump truck, handy.
No one, can ever say, I didn't marry well.

Question: Who can name, the exact moment in my life, a Friday with a Dump truck, became awesome fun?

In their professional opinion....

Tink had her preschool screening this week.
Here is the verdict.



Well, she is super cute and nearly gifted.
Duh, we know that.
Maybe they did not say 'gifted' but it was implied.

Here are her positives:
She is super cute. (I wanted to open with her strongest asset.)
She knew all her colors and numbers.
Her hearing was perfect. Which means, when you repeatedly try to say hello to Tink and she refuses to respond....she CAN hear you, she is just ignoring you. I know that must hurt, the truth usually does.
Eyesight perfect.
Hand eye coordination and playing skills, fine.
Her vocabulary is extensive and above average. (Us and every single person in Wal-Mart, already know that.)

Needs improvement category:

Problem: She would interact with the other children, but didn't side-arm hug or high-five them.
Their assessment: She was the only girl, in a group of boys. They assumed she was not comfortable, talking to the boys.
My assessment: She is a snot.

Problem: Her vocabulary is extensive but she could emphasize her T's and S's.
Their assessment: Not a problem, until the age 5.
My assessment: Who cares? Tink talk makes my blog cuter.

Problem: Even though, she very obviously knew the difference between brown and black she continued to call brown, black...every time.
Their assessment: Why does she keep calling it black, when she knows it is brown?
My assessment: She always does that. We don't know why. She will look you dead in the eye and lie about that color. Some call it Moxy, some call it Spunk and some call it being Tink.

Problem: She sat on the floor too often and had trouble riding the trike.
Their assessment: Buy her a bike, strengthen her legs.
My assessment:
First: That rickets joke, seems much less funny now.
Second: Her mother teaches yoga, we like to sit on the floor, judgemental bleepers.
Third: Maybe if EVERY single person in Tink's life wasn't ALWAYS carrying her around like she is 10 months old...her legs would get stronger! Coco is going to walk, before that girl.
Fourth: Maybe if she had normal size legs and could actually reach the peddles on a trike!
Last: Maybe, if FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING GOOD AND HOLY, it would stop snowing...we would buy her a trike. Until that day, Tink and I are under a blanket, on the couch.

Conclusion: She passed. She is wonderful. And she is already showing defiant signs of being Tink, for the rest of her life.

He rocks my world. (uh, the one in the hat.)

Ladies....

This,
is what hard-core looks like.

Soak it in.

(lucky for you, photo is not subject to various copyright laws or infringement penalties. Parties may copy, paste, print, hang on fridge or next to bedside table, use has phone or computer wall-paper...or just plan admire and be green with envy.)

You
are
welcome...


We doin' big pimpin, we spendin' cheese (Check 'em out now )
Big pimpin'
On B.L.A.P.'s
We doin' big pimpin' up in NYC
It's just that Jigga-man, Pimp-C and B.U.N.B.
Check em out now

You know I thug 'em, f* 'em, love 'em, leave 'em
Cause I don't f*in' need 'em
Take 'em out the hood
Keep 'em looking good
But I don't f*kin' feed em
First time they fuss I'm breezin'
Talking 'bout what's the reasons
I'm a pimp in every sense of the word
Better trust and believe 'em
In a cut where I keep 'em

Edit
Edit
lots more Edit

And let's RI-I-I-I-I-IDE
Check 'em out now
RI-I-I-I-I-IDE

The Wal-Mart crowd, is not opposed to beating children.

In the last few weeks, Oprah has had several conversations with me about my eating habits.
Yes, Father-in-law, she personally had this talk with me. We are friends.
She informed me, that my children and especially my husband, are high risk for an entire list of Pop-tart related illnesses.
And obviously, Oprah is an expert on poor eating habits.
Today, after a quick lunch at Taco Bell: We headed into Wal-Mart to change our lives.
Our plan (and when I say our, I mean my plan, for which Coach very reluctantly agreed too but he really would prefer the Heart Attack.)
Therefore, our plan....will begin with a slow and steady upgrade from one unhealthy item to a slightly, kinda more healthy item. Baby steps, as not to shock Tink and Coach's system.
Tink, is a very observant shopper.
She is not easily distracted by the glitz and glam of Wal-Mart. She will sweetly and annoyingly repeat each item dropped into the cart. She realized real quick something from this trip, was not like the others. No need for a Sesame Street Sing along.
It began, as we shimmied past the frozen food aisle. Tink paused, became uncomfortable....Coach and her made confused eye contact, as I put distance between the frozen pizza and themselves.
Next, we picked up the 100% fruit snacks and did not grab the Barbie snacks.
Restlessness, turned into mild protest.

"Tink, we need to eat better."

"No, I can't neber eat bedder. I not healfy!"

In the same aisle, no Capn Crunch (Coach grabbed at his chest) no Cinnamon Toast Crunch and no Lucky Charms. Instead, I grabbed Multi Grain Cheerios.

"I can't do dat! I can't eat dat! I need da Charms!"
(above quote, may have been from either Tink or Coach.)

I skipped past the granola bars and grabbed raisins and craisins.

"I can't neber like raidins! My brodar can't never like dose!"
(speaking on her brother's behalf may seem endearing and yet, I recognize this as desperation.)

At this point, she is still calm, by Tink standards.

Until, the juice aisle. I did not grab 5 boxes of Capri Sun. Instead, we grabbed the 100% apple juice packs. In nearly, identical boxes, only one spot over on the shelf.
This little girl, apparently, is intelligent enough to recognize the wording and color difference on a box of apple juice vs. a Mountain Breezes Capri Sun.
Melt Down.
Red face, cart clutching, hair frizzing, voice screeching, soup can throwing Melt Down.

"I can't never drink dat purple box! I can't get dat! I can't neber be healfy! I can't get big like mum! I can't be tallb! No. I stay liddle, I be liddl. Get de blue box!"

Play on repeat, for 5 more aisles, check out, walking towards the van....pause for a nap on the ride home...press play again the second we pull into the driveway...and for another ten solid minutes.

Coach was frazzled, he barely argued as I grabbed the Multi Grain bread. He pleaded, to let them go to the van and wait for me. This Dad, seriously lacks a firm hand, during a Tink Fit.

Day 1 (well, half day counting the Taco Bell lunch) of trying to better my children's health: Not a success.

Their vote: They would rather stay under 3ft tall and suffer from rickets, than part ways with Barbie fruit snacks and a Capri Sun.

Coach's vote: He is pretty sure Freschetti Pizza, may be more healthy, than I realize.
Plus, I am a mean wife and mother.

Dear Commissioner:

On this date in history, you took me man-hunting.

We had a specific list of characteristics.
1.) He must be taller than me.
2.) He must be kind.
3.) He must have a job, with insurance and benefits.
4.) He must be older, established and seasoned in life.

I have since, come to realize, none of the men you know, actually qualify in all Four categories...but you lined up your best bets and we headed out.

Now, like any great hunter, your prey was unsuspecting. We moved stealthily and with a keen, watchful eye. One by one, the Targets fell off my radar. Some, for superficial reasons... a few, for fairly legitimate issues.
We returned from our hunt, exhausted but in good spirits and ready for a post-outing party.
Upon arrival, we encountered my future Tru Love, the man of my dreams, the father of my children...passed out on your couch. Clothes, boots, hat and all....ready to bounce back and start Round Two (or maybe, knowing him, Round Three).

(actual picture, is it any wonder, I chose him?)

I sat down, next to this immediate Winner, engaging him in witty banter. Oblivious, that he was guilty of Not One, of my Four categories. It is not obvious, how Tall a person is, on the couch.
You would think, he could at least qualify for Category Two, but not from the glowing recommendation, his elder brother bellowed from across the party.
"Don't Date my Brother!"
"Stay Away from my Brother!"
"He is NO Good."
And other expletives, not appropriate for blog reading.

I could have registered your advice, except:

A.) The more negative and Bad Boy the review, the more attractive he became.

B.) Also, at this moment, your impeccable judgement seemed blurred.

For this night in history, is also the night, you were dared to eat a piece of dog food.
And. You. Did.
Commish.
Twice.
Making Jackie, a winner, as well.

I would like to commemorate this moment, by thanking you, for your poor advice. For warning me, so fervently against your younger brother, that it pushed me towards him, that much harder.
You were so very convincing in your disdain for him, I knew this must be the man for me.
Maybe, that was your plan, all along? Maybe, you really wanted us together and only pretended that he was a worthless, bad-news heart breaker?

You are a sly one....

One day, when our children are told an edited, sweeter version of this tale...you will be the hero, in our story.
The man, who convinced not One cousin but Two, to marry into your family.
Tricking two 'brown-eyed' girls, that we just had to turn your Family Tree, into our Family Wreath.

Well played, Commissioner, well played.

On this Flashback Friday, I would like to Toast, these two brothers.....

...for becoming cousins.

I love you, both.

Wake up you sleepy head....

This morning:
The Kid got up and dressed, without calling anyone a name or throwing something at us.
Coco is 9 mos old today and popped another tooth.
Tink was excited to discover we had a brand new container of Hershey's for her 'choket milk, cuz I lobe da choket milk, mum.'

I poured the perfect ratio of milk to cereal and was able to finish the bowl, before the cereal got mushy.
Score.
Coach's facial hair is growing back.
I am headed to yoga.
And the celebrity bloggers just informed me that Kourtney Kardashian broke up with Scott.
Could this morning, be any more fantastic!?


Here comes the sun, here comes the sun,
and I say it's all right

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right

Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun
and I say it's all right

Cleaning Day, Schmleaning Blay.....

I would give, just about anything to relax in this chair.
Kicking back with a book, bare feet and heck, maybe even a cliche glass of lemonade.
I'll pretend to ignore the idea of mosquitoes and focus solely on the sounds of birds and children gleefully laughing.
Far on the other side of the yard, with their father, in charge.
Make believe is fun, but I have accepted my banishment to the Tundra.
If by some miracle, Spring returns to 'these parts', the chance of me spending a leisurely afternoon reading in the sun, feels pretty slim.
Thanks to the 429 children I have, my summer days will be filled with cries of...
"I not want dat sunkren!"
"I not touch dat sand!"
"I cant not see dat dadybug!"

or worse,
"Mom, what was the longest worm on record and from what country was that found and what type of soil did it grow in?"
So on and so forth....



Until then, Wednesday is cleaning day.
I actually try to clean a little every day...but Wednesday and Friday are 'Get down to business' cleaning day.
Two weeks ago, cleaning day turned into "Our children are being raised in a disgusting pig sty and I can't live with all this filth tumbling down on top of me like an episode of Hoarders, or I will lose my mind and freak the F out, because I am really tittering on a nervous breakdown nearly every day of my stay at home life and you don't know cuz you are gone all the time being a super awesome coach while I make choket milk all day!!"
Um....
Anyway...
It began with the Game Closet. One morning I taught that Game closet, a lesson it will soon not forget. I then, moved to the Linen closet.
That is where things got a little ugly.
Excuse me?
Do I really need 4 Generations worth of bed linens, in my home?
We use the same sheets every time! Strip the bed, wash the sheets, put them back on the bed. Not complicated.
No one stays the night, why would they, this place is a madhouse.
Ok, one extra set for the chance at a late night puke.
Sure, let's keep a few extra for when you need to cut down a Christmas tree and put it in your trunk and save the interior from sap.
Except, my husband has the perfect little man truck for cutting down trees and really...we just chop down our landscaping, as our Christmas centerpiece.
Then, wait a minute...do I also have TWO Hope chests, filled with blankets.
Enter the Goodwill drop off. In the past two weeks, I have sent nearly 20 Garbage bags to Goodwill or Recycle.
I am not done.
Baby stuff. Do not get comfortable. Your days are numbered.
Stuffed animals, you are not serving a purpose. Say your goodbyes.
McDonalds Happy Meal toys, don't even get me started.
It is my plan, my Life's Goal to clear this home of clutter, by May.
If you are not pretty, useful or calming, prepare to go.

Tink, be careful.

I Kid! Kinda...

What is Ringworm?

Just imagine, it is Family Game night.
And we are gathered around the 'Science Gross Out' game.
If, by chance, Coach wins the entire game....it is possible, The Kid will end such game with a look of confusion, shock and 'unfairness' that was extremely insulting and nearly stopping short of declaring himself more intelligent than his father.
Good for you Coach, way to humble that brat!


That said, let's just suppose that it felt like Coach was getting the easiest questions, I have ever heard.
For example:
Why do you put chlorine in a pool?

While I received trick questions, that I believe Coach doctored and judged too harshly.
For example:
What kind of species is a ringworm?

Also, if Coach's Gross Out dare was to remove his socks, put his feet on the table and wiggle his toes...well, the entire family really lost, at that moment.

Tink, jumped up, squealed and high-fived after every single roll.
One, can never over-congratulate oneself, eh Coach?

Coco, spent the duration, chewing on the slime container.

Family game night?
A success.
Except for The Kid, having to choke down the disappointment of his father, having a brain.
That stung.

Morning, already?

This morning, at 6:41am, Coco woke up.
I'm not gonna lie...it felt a little early.
We had a crazy, good time at the dance, last night.
The candy cigarettes were a blast, the dancing was twirl-a-taining, the outfits colorful and the music twistastic.
We had Marilyn, Lucy, Girls with a Wiggle and Beatniks. A full bowling team, Sandy, Greasers, roller skates, hula hoops and poodle skirts, everywhere.
We raised money for a great cause and had fun, fun, fun...late into the night.
Because, I am just a wee bit tired, I will let the pictures speak for themselves.

Our 1955 Sock Hop















I had a wonderful time.
We are already planning next year....
Recycled Wedding Reception.
Stay tuned for the engagement.

Final 50's Flashback Friday!

Today, my brain is full of The Fifties...other women may be pondering their upcoming Valentine's Day.
Wondering about their sweetie and what kind of special gift they may receive.
I am SUPER excited to transport myself back to 1955 tomorrow night. That said, I am grateful that My Valentine and I will not actually be sharing this weekend 50 years in the past.

Reason #1. I am grateful that this is not the current picture of myself......




2.) Or that this is not the current picture of my husband....






3.) And that I will not be expecting the following gifts this weekend.....



(Though, let's be honest...a brand-new, updated Dyson...really is a gift filled with love.)

As I glance back at my final Flashback Friday and consider my (semi) modern marriage, compared to those 55 years ago.
I imagine it wouldn't kill anyone if Coach and I dressed better.
Or if I attempted to pretty myself up, when he stops home for lunch.
I really am a decent cook, but if dinner did happen to burn...Coach's reaction may be pretty similar to the Schlitz Ad ...and I wouldn't cry, while dialing the pizza place.

Mostly, I commend my grandparents and their generation.
Raising three children, is a job.
Raising 3 (or more!) children without a microwave, dishwasher, cell phones, air-conditioning, DVR or Happy Meals...would require way more than "Pep Pills" to keep my sanity.

I do not know how they did it, especially in nylons!

In closing:
I would like to thank our Relay team for all of their hard work and dedication. Please send us many happy thoughts for an extremely successful dance!

Tickets on sale all day...and at the door.
(last plug, I swear...)

3 kids, 3 'big deals', 1 day

If anyone thought staying home with your children was uneventful...you obviously have never spent a full day with my 3.

Poor Tink, learned a lesson, we can all sympathize with.
It is exhausting being a princess....
and it is nearly impossible to take a quick nap, in a hoop skirt and retain your 'lady-like' manners.
A lesson, several ladies may fall victim too, this Saturday night.

Coco, grew her first tooth! Her mother, was a bit nervous about how she was stacking up to her gifted, tooth-growing, brother and sister.
Alas, it is finally here... let the finishing stages of the weaning, begin.

Last, The Kid took his uh...studious, nature to a whole new level.
He created and hung this sign on his door.
If you are having a little trouble with translating...
"Geologists ONLY....(Giant X to warn those to stay out).. and Scientists."

We would hate to exclude the scientists.
Nether Coach or I, appear to be a geologist or scientist, which made the kiss goodnite a little difficult.
I hear, there are sons with signs that read, "Batman only" or "Boys only".


These kids, are really something.

Flying into your forties...

Flirting with forty..
Forty and fabulous..
Fierce and forty...
40.
My brother-in-law turned 40 today. And life is his oyster. I could list every single lame cliche and mean each word of it.
For this new decade, I wish for you; laughs, reasons to high-five, adventure, change and plenty of 'holla'.
I commend you for picking yourself up, every time Tink knocks you down....commanding the Mic, holding the perfect Tree and having Mad Hops.

Thank you, for each joke. For making our world a more visually appealing place (you are truly an artist) and for providing our son with his BCF. (Best Cousin Forever.)
I believe you will own 40. Teach it a lesson and leave a broken, beaten, stomped all up and over path for us to follow. I'm sure your younger brothers, wish they would end their thirties, with all that hair!
Hey, Double Eight...the world is waiting.

Another addition of 'Things I don't get'

I do not get...
(opinions are the author's, though you should really be aware, they are the 'right' opinions.)

1. Orange juice with pulp. Do you enjoy chewing your juice?
2. 4-6 inches of snow. Totally over it. Except, Tink declared this morning, "Tinkerbell fleb down last night and sprunkled pixie dust on da snowb!!". Dang it, then I did have to admit the snow was pretty.
3. Pineapple on pizza. Hey, let's just throw banana and apple on there and get real crazy!

4. Socks in bed. For that matter, socks with sandals, socks on during whoopie, socks during yoga, socks with holes in the toes, socks outside, socks on anytime during the months of May-September.

5. People who prefer Leno to Letterman.
6. John Mayer. Sure he can play the guitar...but come on, ladies?? Don't get the appeal.
7. Why, during my shower, Tink needed to stand on the other side of the curtain and list all of the people she knew who had butts. I tried to plead with her, EVERYONE had a butt...she rolled her eyes, belly laughed "Not eberyone, mom!" and again started listing one by one.
8. Hershey's Bars with almonds. As my mother wisely said, The almonds are just taking up chocolate's room.
9. Living in Minnesota. Unless your job forced you, otherwise...are you cold and miserable all the time?
10. The fact that the Superbowl entertainment gets more old and British every year. Is this not, America's sport? Are we so afraid of another side-boob flash that we would rather watch toothless, brittle Europeans pretend to play a guitar?
11. Why any able bodied person within 60 miles would not attend the 1955 Sock Hop...cuz it is going to be just that awesome.

Leaving a dust trail behind her....

At approximately, 11:00am-ish, I informed Tink she was invited to a slumber party at her cousin's.
Within seconds she had dashed from her mother, to pack her bag.
Including essentials, such as: 3 Barbies, two DVD's and two pairs of pajamas.
Really, with those items, she could have managed all weekend.
She then parked herself in the chair and waited for her Aunt to pick her up....6 hours later.


Of course, she was excited to spend the night with Eleven and Twelve. It's not as if she has a cute sister at home!
Unfortunately, her little Coco is pretty boring and not nearly as much fun to play Princess and Tea Party with.

I fear there may be a very similar and disheveled picture taken of the three, at an unsanctioned After Prom Party.

Not too worry, my feelings were not hurt by the urgency my daughter packed and fled my home.
That very same day, I booked tickets for Coach and I to fly away on a romantic weekend.
So there Tink, I want to flee.... too!

(Mom guilt...mom guilt! I want to spend time with my husband, but I do not want to flee my children...just maybe take a mini, tiny, little time out. Love you, kids!)

Week-end reading

Have you heard of the site "Sh$t my Dad Says"?
(FYI- it's awesome.)

This man types short quotes from his father. Recently, they began working on a sitcom/writing deal based on the blog.


I have a cousin (well, I have at least 75 cousins, then Coach has another 175).

I have this Cousin, who uses an Internet outlet to occasionally type the random thoughts, bouncing around his head.
And they are hilarious.
Not too appropriate, not for young children, the faint of heart or maybe for most religious or morally decent people....remove all of the above....and it is funny stuff.

For your weekend reading pleasure, I am posting a few snippets.

When and If a Producer happens upon this blog and would like to offer Cousin, a sitcom....I'll expect a finders fee. At this time, I am with-holding his identity for him (and his poor family's) privacy.

Cousin- I apologize for blatantly ripping off your material...we'll discuss my percentage of the profits, later.

Therefore:

Introducing... 'Crazy Crap My Cousin Says'.

*I know you didn't mean to, but thank you for leaving the mirror there. Otherwise, I never would have noticed that rash.

*The wife informed me last night that she got me an early Valentine's gift...she set me up with a trainer! Apparently, Hallmark no longer makes the card that reads, "This Valentine's Day..(open card)..I'd like you to be a little less revolting\ repulsive \ disgusting."

*End of the first week with Trainer Shawn. I have a long way to go. Apparently, the only thing I did well was on a machine called the Defibulator.

*A mother's love: Her "Do you see this scar? I touch this scar and it reminds me of you and how proud I am of you. I love you." Child "I love you too, Mom...but that is an episiotomy scar....and everyone else is trying to eat..."

*How in the world did the Groundhog ritual get so accepted that it has actually made our calendar? Next November, will there be a day set aside for "wooly worms" to tell us how cold the winter will be? I predict winter will last until March 20th. Then again, I have a calendar..not a shadow.

*At times, naval lint may look and feel like gray cotton candy. However, it does not taste the same.

*Glen Bell Jr, founder of Taco Bell, has died. Mourners can walk in and pay their respects until 9:00...or through the drive up window until midnight.

*I understand the misfortune of razor burn...I just think I am too young to have this in my nasal cavity.

*Life lesson learned - Buying extra toilet paper is a good thing. Storing it in the hall closet is not. Walking down the hall like a penguin to retrieve said paper can ruin even the best of dinner parties.

*Mark McGuire admits to steroid use. You can read more about it in this month's copy of DUH! Magazine. For those who are shocked about this, you may also enjoy the other articles - the earth is not flat, Tiger is not faithful, and Liberace is not straight.

*Due to age, I am sad to report the "Big Unit" can no longer perform. In a related note, Randy Johnson has retired from baseball.

*Over winter break, my mom asked me to read "The Shack". I found it interesting and thought provoking. However, I was disappointed that there was nothing in there about his filming 'Kazaam', nor his issues with Kobe.

*Second week complete with Trainer Shawn. It was tough. He kept asking me why I was here. I explained I wanted to fly jets. Apparently, his grandmother also wants to fly jets. He wanted me DOR until I explained that I have no where else to go. I got no where else....

*A mushy V-day thought. Someone once said, "If you love someone, set her free." I disagree. I think if you love someone, you should take her picture. You know they hate this, so take the picture when she is not expecting it...like the shower. Then, show that picture to all your friends so they know that she is your one true love. ♥

There, you have it.
I know that made your weekend better.

Tune in on Monday, I will cleanse the blog palate with a sweet post on Tink and her cousins!

Soda pop helps them bones grow.

With winter dragging on, I played a little game, I like to call "How long before I am forced to go to the bleepin grocery store."
Not a very catchy name, but they can't all be winners.
This is really the Russian Roulette of Housewifely Duties.

Goal: how many days you can make meals out of the leftover food in your cabinets.

The Lazy Susan, (though, Coach prefers we don't call her lazy...he thinks she doesn't like it)...therefore, the Relaxed Susan is our deep bench.
She is stacked with hidden plays and if nothing else, contains an array of canned goods in a pinch.
Unfortunately, once you lose one of the Starting Five to fouls/injuries....you will be forced to get to the store.
Milk, Water, Bread, Capri Sun (Tink's recruit) and a brand new player to our Game (thanks to our current weaning of Coco)...Baby Formula.
On day Four, we lost the game.

Now, if I had run across this Advertisement earlier...I could have earned us another day, at least.

Heeelllloooo....Flashback Friday.
Clever open....

8 more days until the 1955 Sock Hop!
Giddy up.

To my 'little' brother

Happy Birthday, brother! While, I am calling you my little brother (completely ironic, given you are five inches taller than me)...you are not really mine.
Now, you are just "Uncle". Dubbed, by The Kid.

You are excellent with the kids and I am very grateful you are in their lives. You get down on the floor to play action figures, read to your buddy Tink and snuggle up with Coco. It does you good, to soak up Coco love.
Thank you, for loving my children with your whole heart. For claiming them as your special family and for sharing in their lives. I could never express enough, how glad I am, you moved near us. You attend their events and help Dad with frequent babysitting. (I love a free sitter!!) My three children are even more loved, now that you are a short block away.
To my brother, The Kid's God-father and the girls 'Uncle'.
We love you. (I should tell you that, more often.)
Happy Birthday.

PS- Thanks for helping this frazzled mother, with her yard work!

I want to shave our heads.

I just received a note from The Kid's school that head lice was detected in his grade.
Within seconds, his coat and hat were thrown in the wash.
He is preparing to shower.
I am running a bath in the second bathroom for the girls.
I think my head itches.
I think every one's head is itchy.

Made-up holidays are not my bag.

Today, I very carefully, stole the thunder from a Groundhog.
I explained that either way, six weeks is still six weeks.

First, The Kid was confused, then he questioned, glared, tried to reason and finally accepted.
Six weeks, no matter how you dress it up, is still six full weeks.

Only two short months before I possibly, rain all over the Easter Bunny's parade.

Depending on my mood.
I'm not really a fan of holidays built around small, fuzzy animals and one that predicts me in a winter coat for six more weeks....way down on my list.

Update: After posting this blog, my husband immediately read it.
Then, I had to very carefully, steal the Groundhog's thunder for the second time today.
Apparently, Coach has lived his entire life, tricked by this holiday, as well.
All I can say in response to this discovery:
He is a deep and complex man, I continue to unravel...and...
thank god he's cute.

I have missed you so....

Dear Lost-

Ah, my sweet companion, my friend, tomorrow you shall return to me. I can not describe how giddy I am, with anticipation. It has been a long absence and my television viewing pleasure has been 'Lost' without you.
I must confess, that seven months seemed a bit harsh. You really abandoned me. I have been flooded with emotions... longing, disappointment, bitterness.
Fortunately, Jax and the Sons of Anarchy were able to fill the void in my heart. And to say that my heart beats in the presence of Jax, is an understatement. (Sorry, Coach, to be so blunt. I hope you have not 'Lost' face.)
I can remember the first evenings we spent together. Five years ago, The Kid and I were drawn in by your charm. Charlie had a new 'Party of Several', on a tropical island, with a plane crash, screaming passengers and some type of invisible dinosaur. Each week, you entered our home like a mini-movie. Thanks to, first ancient VCR tapes and then DVR...we have not missed one episode.
Well, actually, you 'Lost' The Kid. Around season Three. Truthfully, you nearly 'Lost' me, but I remain loyal.
There were moments you tested my devotion. As Coach questioned for the fourth time in an hour, "Who is that? What decade are they in? Is he really an 'Other'? Is this a flash back or present day?"
And I would politely and calmly spaz back, "I don't know! I am also watching this episode for the first time! Surprisingly, I do not write or produce for ABC!! Stop asking me and Watch. The. Bleepin. Show!!"
I am not proud of those moments.
I have nearly 'Lost' my patience with you, muffin. Admittedly, I am often attracted to those who screw with my emotions. The up and down love triangles, sudden and shocking deaths/resurrections, the bizarre family connections. Though each week, confused, bruised and unsure, I return to you.
I have always appreciated your beautiful and lush scenery...Jack, Sawyer, heck even Kate's bottom in jeans...oh, and the breathtaking Hawaiian landscape. Though, please explain to me why lovable Hurley was unable to shed one single pound while stranded on the island. Dharma food stash or not.
Tomorrow will be a bitter sweet rush for me. For this will be the last season we share. I have so enjoyed your company, and yet like every great house guest, I am ready for you to quickly wrap your visit up with a neat little bow.
The time travel, Penny's crazy rich father, Dharma, will Kate pick Jack or Sawyer? I have so many questions.
Welcome back, my friend. I will try to have my rotten children in bed early so that I may rush, to your side. Four more glorious months together.
By the way, Coach will be there too. I will try to keep him quiet.
If you are an actual human friend of mine (thanks to my television blogging, it is painfully obvious that I do not have many) remember our home will be a phone call free zone at that time.
Similar to the one my father established during my childhood years, only this time due to a more sensible reason, than a boring ol' family dinner.
And Lost, please do not disappoint. Real life has cornered that market on past occasions, you are technically 'entertainment'....please do not fail to entertain.
With all my love-