November 4th, 2009

I posted the following Bucket List.
Forty dreams (big and small).
My mom asked me to update the list.
So here goes....

1. Stand in the Sistine Chapel, while tears stream down my face.
2. Host a beautiful candle lit Christmas Eve dinner, with my children, their spouses and my grandchildren.
3. Have a regular Girls Night Out. (Why is this so difficult to organize??)
4. Listen to Elton John sing 'Your Song', in person.
5. Order a meal at a cafe in Paris, in near perfect French.
6. Lay on a beach in Jamaica.
7. Eat a Cajun meal, in New Orleans, with Coach, while drinking a cold one. (Completed.  Twice!! Happiest Place on Earth.)
8. Have my son's wife, tell me I raised a respectful and loving man.
9. Be the first person my daughters call, to say they are pregnant. After they call their husbands, sometime following their 24th birthdays.
10. Take the kids to Disney World. (I'm totally over this idea. But we did take them to Florida to hold alligators and that was way cooler.)
11. Stand in the Louvre.
12. Finish the back bathroom. (this should be on Coach's list) (Still. Not. Done)
13. Celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary in Ireland.
14. Have my flower gardens, the way I imagine! (This has actually moved in a backwards direction.)
15. Own my perfect yoga studio. (Completed! So grateful!)
16. Go to the Oprah show. (Completed!  It was a magical 18 hours!)
17. Witness The Kid score 40 pts, with 10 rebounds, sprinkle in a few assists and One block, so hard core, the echo rings in my ears.
18. Experience a night, as awesome as our 1985 Relay for Life Prom. (Completed. We've had some pretty great nights in the last couple years. The Hollywood Relay Skit was To. Die. For.)
19. Teach my girls a broken heart, will not kill you.
20. Take my family to see mountains. Not that big rock, 20 miles from here. (Completed!)
21. Purchase great outdoor furniture. (Why can't we get this done??)
22. Spend one day, totally alone, with Coco. (We've gotten pretty close.)
23. Go to The Letterman show. (I'm over this.  Now I want Jimmy Fallon.)
24. Take the kids to Washington DC.
25. Find the perfect pair of jeans.
26. Have Coach ask "What we got going on today?" and answer "Nothing." And spend the day with him, doing absolutely nothing. (Still waiting...)
27. Find time to draw again.
28. Plant a vegetable garden. (Completed.  Love it.)
29. Go on a yoga retreat.
30. Have a girls weekend.
31. Purchase expensive bedding, that I melt into. (We've gotten pretty close..)
32. Spend a long weekend in Boston and visit the Green Monster, with other couples.
33. Maintain detailed memory boxes and baby books, for each child. (I try... really... it's so hard!)
34. Take the kids to a movie on Christmas night.
35. Buy a great sectional couch for Friday movie/pizza night. (Completed!)
36. Still find Coach funny when he is 75 and hope he thinks the same of me.
37. Teach children, The Beatles are the greatest band in the world, ever. (Pretty close.  Coco is a struggle.)
38. Find the perfect lipstick color. (Close-ish.)
39. Live a life that will have people talking about something at my funeral... other than being Coach's wife!
40. Smile more. (I think I've gotten better... would anyone agree??)

How often are you allowed to change and/or Edit your Bucket List?  I'd like to delete a few and add some new! Leave your Top Five from your Bucket List, in the Comment Section!

L-U-V Madonna!!

 

Tonight we are off to Madonna's concert!
To exceptional seats (at least they'd better be...) And I am totally psyched.  With the exception of the part of me, which wishes I owned cuter shoes... in addition to cuter jeans and a belt. (I'm nervous the gay man, I will hopefully make my new concert dance party bestie, will judge my boring mom clothes.)
A special note to Clark, Warhol (and countless others) whom are eye-rolling themselves into a headache over my Madonna excitement: Do I believe Madonna is the greatest artist/song writer of all times?? Duh, no. The Beatles (specifically Paul) obviously is...
but is she the background-music party anthem to most of the best nights of my life?? Fo sho.  Does she consistently make me happy?  Has she ever failed to lighten my mood? Has she made every single pre-night-out ritual more awesomer?? Fact. Never. And Fact.
Therefore, I will ALWAYS...  L-U-V Madonna

Y-O-U you wanna
I see you coming
and I don’t wanna know your name
L-U-V Madonna
I see you coming
and you’re gonna have to change the game
Y-O-U you wanna
Would you like to try?
Give me a reason why
Give me all that you got
Maybe you’ll do fine
As long as you don’t lie to me
And pretend to be what you’re not

Don’t play the stupid game
Cause I’m a different kind of girl
Every record sounds the same
You’ve got to step into my world
Give me all your love and give me your love
Give me all your love today
Give me all your love and give me your love
Let’s forget about time
And dance our lives away!!

From Now On...

I'd like The Mrs to refer to me as:
"The Dream Maker"

I didn't get Mrs on Oprah...
but I just checked one biggie off her Bucket List!



Madonna. September 19th.
Anyone else wants in...
Check her fansite for pre-sales.
I can promise my Van will turn into the Greatest Madonna Party Bus of all times. I'll probably have Warhol paint a banner. And I can make a mean Madonna mix tape.... Just sayin.

Here Comes My Girl

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TRU STORIES!!!



I really tried to think of a clever or interesting way to write this birthday post. Last year, I obviously stole Tru Stories ideas, trying to copy her style of writing because I definitely do not have my own style. I was thinking about using only Beatles lyrics to describe her. I also thought about using lyrics of a song that always makes me think about her. While lyrics can be clever, which Tru Stories does very well, I couldn't describe her like that. This year I am going to let you know about the girl, I know in my own words.

When I first met Tru Stories, I wouldn't say I was headed in the right direction. Not saying I was headed in the wrong one, it was more like an angle instead of a straight line. Some might say that I was here to save her but that is the total opposite, Tru Stories and The Kid swooped in and swept me off my feet.

Some of the reasons why Tru Stories is my one.

-She has great taste in music. Yes, obviously Madonna and The Beatles but her range is almost endless. She can go from Snoop, Eminem, East Coast, West Coast, new music, classic rock. I did say 'almost' but country music is sort of a long stretch (sorry country fans).

-She knows sports. I realize she grew up in a sport background family, but she really knows what she is talking about. Sometimes we talk back and forth about sport topics for a while, afterwards I think, how lucky was I to find her, I can not believe she is not totally bored with this.

-She is a beer drinker. Nothing against girls that don't drink beer, it is just easier for me. It seems simple to me, I like simple. I also like the way she drinks her beer. I get it, it sounds weird but there is something about it that is hard to explain.

-She is a great writer. When I read her blogs, it is almost like I am there in the story. Wait a minute, a lot of the time I am. She makes it seem so easy and effortless to do, I am on my tenth hour right now.

-She loves our kids. I also love our children with everything I have but she finds things to love about them I would never think of. Different expressions on their faces or how they pronounce a word, things I might not notice without her. And not because I was also not pronouncing the word correctly.

Fine, maybe just one song to take up some space.

You know, sometimes, I don't know why,
But this old town just seems so hopeless
I ain't really sure,
but it seems I remember the good times
Were just a little bit more in focus

But when she puts her arms around me,
I can, somehow, rise above it
Yeah man,
when I got that girl standing right by my side,
You know,
I can tell the whole wide world, and shout it,

Hey, here comes my girl,
here comes my girl,
Yeah, she looks so right,
she's all I need tonight

Just for the record, it's still stupid and always will be.

HOLLA, Coach

Aging Conditions may be Slippery.

This past weekend, I suffered a minor accident. My new van is not as snow friendly as one would hope. While driving VERY (seriously) slowly, I began to break as I approached a Stop. My wheels slid me directly into the back black iron bar across the bumper of a large semi. Almost immediately, the semi pulled out onto the road, totally oblivious to the accident.
The plastic-ish front of my van, easily shredded a perfect indention of the bar. No need to worry. We were not shaken in the least. I'm happy to report, no child repeated the swear word I muttered.
Though, I'm sure Coco has filed that nugget away for later use. Probably during Mass.



I was busy with blizzard like festivities, extra kids home from school... and it took a couple days to call in my claim. Now... the accident, the swear word, the damage to the van?? The worst part? Nope.
The worst, stomach dropping part of this story, took place during the 22 minute claim phone call.

I dial..
A very cheery, young sounding (probably pretty) girl answered my call. I patiently allowed her to do her bit (as I unfortunately suffer PTSD from two years lost in the cave of an insurance claim center.) She asked her typical questions, I appeared like a moron.
Her: Name of street the accident occurred?

Me: Ummmm, I don't know. The street by Fox?? Unless a Christmas Card friendly relative lives on a particular street, I have not actually learned road names and opt for descriptions like: You know, 1 block down from The Dairy Queen... or 2 houses down from where so-an-so's grandma lived...
Still NOT the worst part...



When describing the road conditions, I realized this young girl must have spent her life living in Arizona.
Her: Ohhh.. there was a big snow storm?? 6-8 inches?? Wow! Your van just slid right into a semi?? Wow, again!!
Me: Yep. It snowed across like 9 states. Yep, snow is crazy. Yep, tires slide on snow. I know, it sounds nuts.
16 minutes into phone call, not the worst part.



No, the worst part occurred shortly after.
Her: Ok... can I get your drivers license number. Ok.. date issued... ok... and can I get your birth date?

Me: One. Nineteen. Seventy-Seven

Her: Ohh!! You're gonna have a birthday this week!!

Me: Yep.

Her: Ohhh!! Wow! And it's a BIG one!

Me (take a cleansing breath moment, pretending not to envision my dry-scaly- winter living in the crazy-snow-land old lady arm into the phone to yank out her young, probably wearing a tank-top cheerful throat.):Yep. Sure is.

For a rude young lady, she sure can calculate numbers and dates quickly.



Anyway... Long story short,
only 4 more days until Coach repeats his famous guest blogger performance. The very mention of my birthday may cause young girls to shudder over the phone but Tru Stories followers world-wide... have patiently waited all year for Thursday.
Silver Bleepin Lining.

Merry Christmas to Me!!

Coach and Grammy, gifted me with an early Christmas present. A brand new laptop!! Officially pulling me out of the dark ages (sure, it's not an Iphone or an Ipad... but it's WAY more modern for my world.)



Now, I can blog more efficiently and easily than before. Thankfully, because how else would I be able to get my pertinent information to the world, like:

"Should I be embarrassed, I secretly Heart Selena Gomez's new song? I mean, it's not like I know 95% of the words... and I only sing it in the van with the girls... and occasionally totally by myself in the van, loudly and with teen spirit. That's nothing to be ashamed of... is it?? Scale of 1-10...."

Thanks Grammy and Coach!
For helping the world climb just a little deeper,
into my pathetically lame mind.

Dang you, Moment of Clarity.

Fact: We discovered, after our yard thawed, the snow plows ripped up nearly all of our landscape timbers around our second driveway. Causing me to jerk far over, each time I pull out of the garage.

Fact: Coach spent our Saturday afternoon, patching a decent gap on our roof and laying lyme in our crawl space. More money...

Fact: We learned we are paying on our taxes, rather than receiving a refund.

Fact: This morning, a trailer, with a backhoe, pulled in front of our home. More money...

Fact: One hour later, 2 men had done little more than walk circles, sticking a long metal pole into my landscaping, trying to locate the pipes.

Fact: They are now tearing up our yard AND a portion of our neighbors.

Fact: Stressed over the tremendous hit to our finances, I left for yoga. Preparing to bring relaxation to the masses.
Simultaneously: my yoga bag fell across the seat... I noticed my door light blinking because again The Kid did not properly shut the back door.... I jerked to miss the broken timbers... AND.. then... crashed into Coach's truck... which is NEVER parked sideways, in our second drive but was today... to grant access to the giant Backhoe.
Yep. That really happened.
Eerily, without a single dramatic exclamation (seriously, no sarcasm this time) I calmly walked into the house. In monotone, I told Coach "I crashed our vehicles together". He calmly followed me. We surveyed the damage... shrugged our shoulders (we are now completely accustomed to Bad Luck Chuck's shenanigans) and I left for yoga.

Fact: I distractedly lead my class through a series of poses. I was not angry, I never so much as swore in the silence of my thoughts. But I was annoyed.
"Really....?" I thought. "Really, we are going to end up bankrupt, in a month? We have one unexpected expense after another!! Really... cut us a break?!"

I guided my class into final relaxation. Which I typically skip for myself but figured I should lay back, to prevent a migraine. And then... through my annoyance,
Clarity squarely slapped my snotty face.

"Really... stupid girl??? Really, you are upset over a busted tail-light? Really... you are annoyed the plumbing, in the home you OWN needs to be fixed? Really... you are dramatically melting down over a little poo in your crawl space??? Entire Japanese villages, full of family and friends, were washed away in seconds. Parents, held the hands of their children, as an angry wave yanked them apart. People, contemplating what to cook for dinner.. are now without a kitchen to cook in or a family to cook for.
So really.. selfish little brat... get over yourself!"

Honestly, Clarity spoke to me, that aggressively.
And while I rarely blog 'Thank-you Higher Power'... kind of posts. Dang it, if Clarity didn't teach me a lesson.

Because... Fact:
I really deserved that mental spanking.

Somebody should have warned me...sunscreen would cost less than a chemical peel.

One of my new bathroom purchases was an ultra-high magnifying flip mirror.
It was recently hung.
Foolishly, I was very excited, for my future eyebrows.
Last night, while the children slept, I grabbed the tweezers for a quick clean-up.
25 minutes later, I emerged with a complete map of every freckle, sunspot, pore, wrinkle and blemish. A voyage, I had not properly, prepared myself to take.
Maybe, those teenage years in the pool, were a mistake.
Maybe, purchasing that mirror, was a more fatal mistake.


This morning, I spent nearly an hour, clearing and organizing my kitchen cabinets to accommodate my new wine glasses. A Christmas grab-bag gift.
Positioned, front and center, on their very own shelf.


Do you find these two activities to be unrelated?
Chronologically or in subject matter?

Nope.
Me either.

Shopping blows.

Go ahead. Go shopping. Go find clothes for yourself...sure, have that fun.
Drop the girls off to relatives, drive out of town with Coach, The Kid and yourself.
Part ways with your men.
Skip into a given shop.
Grab an armful of clothing, note that it is "Tis the Season for Puffy Cowl Neck Sweaters"....ignore those.
Grab your size, confident in post baby body.
Waltz into dressing room, undress to try on head to toe, new ensemble.
Stop. Turn. Stare. O.M.G.
No matter how great you may have felt, prior to the dressing room, nothing really prepares you, for the sucker punch to the gut.
Ok, immediately try to get past the dimples, the new addition of back fat, the belly that will never be the same after the 8 1/2 pound baby...
Address a few smaller issues.
Why am I so pale? Like beyond pale, translucent pale?
Really, how much truth is to that whole skin cancer thing? Can I just go back to tanning? Beauty Rule #248...tan chub is cuter chub.
I think I may be getting paler with age. Can that happen?
I am very much able to see the color of my skin, thanks entirely to the neon, fluorescent lights in the dressing room. What is the deal with that?
Here is an idea.
Light the dressing rooms with A. Candles or B. a string of Christmas lights.
Every person looks exponentially better in either lighting. I am positive they would sell more clothes that way.
With the room lit, brighter than the sun, I then wondered:
When did I start beating my upper thighs with a hammer. Why do I suddenly have 37 bruises? This has to be blamed on my children. I am sure of it.
As the body, morphing disorder reaches it's peak, I tried to focus on the clothing. Get past the near nakedness.
Except then, I noticed...hey, how about some cuter bra and panties, Grandma? When did we stop matching those?
Skip right into Victoria's....
and skip out after I realized She is apparently, only telling her Secret to 19 year old girls. All in matching PINK sweats, that they did not wear to the gym. (why would they need to, they haven't had babies?)
They may have worn the sweats to go tanning.
None were pale.
I should, confidently stride past them, wishing them luck with the age spots and wrinkles.
And yet, I was jealous of the tan.
Decide to order undergarments online.
Back to clothing.
Ok, I picked out dress pants. Not too bad.
Moved onto tops.
I now see the appeal for the bulky sweaters. Thick, warm, hides things...fine..two sweaters in the bag.
Began to quickly walk around the mall, pretending I was not 'mall walking'...wishing it would just once occur to me to eat at the food court AFTER standing exposed in the dressing room.
I may consider installing the same lights and mirrors in my closet. Kinda, like a scary personal trainer to insult me every morning. Only the insult, would be my own image glowing back at me.
While waiting in front of Sears for the boys, I began to peruse the racks. When did Sears get cute? Or is this the first step to 'Mom Jeans'? If I need an intervention...stage it!
My husband, pranced up, smiling "How was shopping? Did you find anything."
His voice dripping with kindness and joy.
I hate him.
And his same size jeans, as when he was 17. I hope he chokes on them.
I should have gone shopping at Old Navy for the girls. Toddler clothes are cuter and way more fun.

While the boys were bonding and loving not being female. Coach decides to reward his son with a small gift. The Chipmunks Squeckquel Soundtrack.
That purchase makes, complete sense for the parent that is absent for a minimum 11 hours each day.
Bonus, he promised The Kid we would listen to the CD for the 30 minute ride home.
After 27 minutes, I demanded Coach play somethings else to cleanse our music palette.
Our choice:

You heard a lot about a brother gaining mo ground
Being low down I do the showdown wit any little ho round, no!
I wanna know who youre believing through youre funny reasons
Even when Im sleeping you think Im cheatin
You said I know youre mr. o.p.p. man yo pp man wont only see me man
You shouldve known that I was wit if a bit when I aint hit it
And step not to consider the rep heck!
I did your partner cause shes hot as a baker cause Im naughty by nature
Not cause I hate cha!
You put your heart in a part of a part that spreads apart
Even though I forgave ya when you had a spark.

Oh Naughty, it does seem to be in your Nature, to make this old lady feel better.
Thanks.

This is how it begins...

Quick, somebody save me. I have lost myself in a world of remodeling, crafts ideas and Christmas Famdamly project suggestions. New empty frames from Ikea...check. Old cards, scrap paper...check. Lamps that NEED a face lift...check again.
Glue gun, warmed and ready.
I am convinced, everything must be spray painted. Seats can be covered and duh...why have I never made a wreath out of ornaments before??
The Picture Ratio...23 pictures of the Kid framed, per room, to every one of Coco. She will think, I never loved her! Crisis.
This is how it begins. How perfectly good housewives start bedazzling their clothing. At some point, you wonder, "Why don't I have more sparkles on my jeans? Why shouldn't I put appliques on my sweaters?"
I am this close to falling into the "craft blog world". This close!
There is no bottom, to that pit!
I need outside stimulation. Tell my husband to take me to dinner. Or at least, Christmas shopping.
And not to Hobby Lobby!
Except...wouldn't our holiday, not to mention our lives, be more memorable if I got the pets, cuter food bowls?
Wouldn't it?!
If you know an affordable place to get two awesome, old chairs recovered....email me the name and number.
Seriously.
If we don't have cuter chairs, I don't know what will happen!

Side note: I am unable to blame, the dementia on my diet...my sweet but clueless husband brought home Carmel candy bars from a school fundraiser.
Tomorrow, I will do better. Maybe.
Unless there is another fundraiser, we have to support our community's youth. My jeans will understand. Besides, with the new bedazzled basketball on the pockets, who will notice they are tight?

We need to talk,

In regards to my Will-power.
This weekend, while trying on jeans, it was time to get real. After three weeks, jeans are not tight because: the dryer shrank them, you are bloated, your skin may be puffy from too much water or elves moved the buttons.
We cannot wear yoga pants every day. God knows we try.
After three weeks, we have to admit, we've put on a few pounds.
Now, Will-power. It is not all our fault.
Halloween candy.
Who knew, half a dozen bags of candy would really stick? They should warn people. Maybe in a magazine article. At least, on morning television.
Our Family Birthday season.
Again, not our fault. It is impolite to attend parties and NOT eat cake. Impolite and sacrilegious. We tried to make it low fat by only eating the frosting, but after 3 pieces, our logic is waining.
I couldn't live with the stigma, of being the aunt that disappointed her niece, by only eating one piece. How would she live with that rejection? Not on my conscience.
Then, we got a tiny bit out of control.
The remodeling.
We just HAD to order pizza (4 times). Plus pick up DQ and McDonald's. I mean, for bleep's sake...you can't cook a decent meal, with your back master bathroom torn up! Duh.
But...now look at me, Will-power...when you saw me eating the Lay's chips out of the bag, you should have spoke up. You and Self Control, really dropped the ball. It's not like it was a Snickers! I am barely a chip eater.
Ok, I know, I ordered pizza again tonight.
But I didn't eat the crust. That has to count for something.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow, we are done playing.
We are one holiday cookie season away from an Intervention episode.
Here's the deal:
Dark chocolate, is not really healthy, if you eat two full bars.
Halloween candy does not have a 'Get out of Jail Free' card on weight gain.
Thanksgiving, either.
Shocking, but true.
Ease back on the pizza. Just because you order from 5 different locations, so the phone girl does not recognize your voice, does not excuse the excess.
Birthday season is done. Calm your frosting shakes.
You cannot claim, PMS snacking, two weeks prior and one week after.
Chips out of the bag. Never sanitary. Never a good idea.
Put down the Capn Christmas Crunchberries. I don't care if the colors are festive.
Nightly, hot cocoa is not necessary, when it is 55 degrees outside, you haven't shoveled snow and you are not in grade school.
Even if they claim Chicken Nuggets are made with white meat. It is not low fat to order the ten piece, with a Diet Coke. Though, it seems like it should be.
Now, the weekly Butterfinger Blizzard.
Unless, we are starting me on Zanax, that is a necessary evil.
Alright, Will-power and Self-Control.
Let's do this.
If tomorrow gets too hard...I swear, we are really starting, on Wednesday.
Next week, we need to think about crawling back on the Treadmill.
But let's baby step it...

I accept your challenge.

Following the "Life and Times", I am writing my Bucket List. With 3 children, this will NEVER be completed by my 40th birthday. I will settle for, in my lifetime.
Written here for you: Universe, God, Oprah, Coach...let's see if we can make this happen. Ultimate Christmas list?

1. Stand in the Sistine Chapel, while tears stream down my face.
2. Host a beautiful, candle lit Christmas Eve dinner, with my children, their spouses and my grandchildren.
3. Have a regular Girls Night Out.
4. Listen to Elton John sing 'Your Song', in person.
5. Order a meal, at a cafe in Paris, with near perfect French.
6. Lay on a beach in Jamaica.
7. Eat a Cajun meal, in New Orleans, with Coach, while drinking a cold one.
8. Have my son's wife, tell me I raised a respectful and loving man.
9. Be the first person my daughters call, to say they are pregnant. After they call their husbands, sometime following their 24th birthdays.
10. Take the kids to Disney World.
11. Stand in the Louvre.
12. Finish the back bathroom. (Coach, your list)
13. Celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary in Ireland.
14. Have my flower gardens, the way I imagine!
15. Own my perfect yoga studio.
16. Go to the Oprah show.
17. Witness The Kid score 40 pts, with 10 rebounds, sprinkle in a few assists and one block, so hard core, the echo rings in my ears.
18. Experience a night, as awesome as our 1985 Relay for Life Prom.
19. Teach my girls that a broken heart, will not kill you.
20. Take my family to see mountains. Not that big rock, 20 miles from here.
21. Purchase great outdoor furniture.
22. Spend one day, totally alone, with Coco.
23. Go to The Letterman show.
24. Take the kids to Washington DC.
25. Find the perfect pair of jeans.
26. Years from now, have Coach ask "What we got going on today?" and answer "Nothing." And spend the day with him, doing absolutely, nothing.
27. Find time to draw again.
28. Plant a vegetable garden.
29. Go on a yoga retreat.
30. Have a girls weekend.
31. Purchase expensive bedding, that I melt into.
32. Spend a long weekend in Boston, visit the Green Monster, with 2 other couples.
33. Maintain detailed memory boxes and baby books, for each child.
34. Take the kids to a movie on Christmas night.
35. Buy a great sectional couch for Friday movie/pizza night.
36. Still find Coach funny when he is 75 and hope he thinks the same of me.
37. Teach children, The Beatles are the greatest band in the world, ever.
38. Find the perfect lipstick color.
39. Live a life, that will have people talking about something at my funeral... other tha beinng Coach's wife!
40. Smile more.

Thanks for the challenge, Mrs. I pass it on...

What happened?

A long time ago, in a land far, far away... I used to be an artist who drew beautiful pictures, I could read and speak French, I wore make-up, spoke to girlfriends on the phone for hours about nothing at all, dressed nicely and went out, read 3 books a week for no reason and slept. I slept.

Now: I have spent the last 24 hours trying to help the baby pass gas.

I kid.... that is not the only thing. I have also made 3 peanut butter sandwiches, 4 grilled cheese, filled the dishwasher, cleaned the bathroom and sprinkled in a little laundry.
If you are childless....consider this a warning.

Update: Within minutes of posting the above, the baby took care of her 'stomach ache' all over her new outfit, my NOT new outfit and then her sister's bed. I immediately bathed her, picked her up and she simultaneously puked and peed on me. (thankfully, I had not changed my outfit). Furthermore my husband is spending the evening at the Cubs game, first row, dugout seats. Who says God isn't a man and doesn't have a sense of humour?