During dinner this evening, my daughter went to put ketchup on her hamburger and my 3yo yelled "Squeeze the hell out of it Alex!"

The Politics of My Imaginary Love Life

We're in summer reruns now, which is kinda good because I miss stuff. Last night I watched The Late Late Show, and it was about a month old. First, Craig did a really good, really funny impersonation of Garrison Kiellor, which I was really impressed with and so I gave him a harem promotion. Unfortunately, he then asked a guest, "What's the Tony awards?" which knocked him back down again. I'm concerned that Hugh isn't doing a proper job of educating him. Okay, so he's a busy man. Priorities!

Overenthusiastic Journalists

I'm reading reports of the London bombings. An article on MSN said "New York was on heightened alert Thursday." It IS Thursday. Later in the article it said that Union Station in New Haven was evacuated late Thursday afternoon. It is currently 12:29 pm on Thursday. Do they know something that we don't?

The Final Frontier

My 7yo to her grandfather: I have a friend in Philadelphia who's moving far away to another continent. Timbuktu, I think.

Me: Detroit.

My 7yo: Oh yeah, Detroit. That was it.

It's the Rebel in Me.

I would have done it anyway, but somehow, being in a bad mood gave me some satisfaction when I did it. The box said "do not prepare taco shells in toaster oven". Haha. Just try to stop me!

Weird Moment

I just found myself saying to my daughter, without even thinking about it, "If you don't eat your meat, you can't have any pudding." I'd say it was a flashback, but I never took drugs.

One morning during our vacation in Vermont, one of these was on our patio screen. Isn't it beautiful? It's about four inches across. It's a Luna moth. It looks just like leaves with dewdrops. Unfortunately, although they aren't yet endangered, their population is decreasing rapidly. See, they find each other by glowing in the moonlight, and with all the artificial light from lamp posts, parking lot lights and other outdoor security lights as well as the glow from windows, they're being led astray. How sad. I feel very lucky to have seen one and shown it to my children. It was just so beautiful. The picture doesn't do it justice. Gypsy moths and Tent Caterpillar moths, on the other hand, should be fed to each other.

Wave the flag woohoo.

I'm starting to hate this place. Go ahead and call me unamerican. It doesn't matter, because I'm not rich enough to count as an American anyway. The government decides who has rights and who doesn't. You have to pay for them.

If Walmart wants to build a store and they happen to like your block, say goodbye to your house. They'll pay you pennies on the dollar, essentially stealing your home and your money. Then, of course, there's no way in hell you could afford to buy another house with that pittance because they cost a mint. But it's for the good of the people. "People" apparently meaning not you, because you don't have billions of dollars. Yes, when I think of ways to improve my community, I don't think of schools, roads, libraries, hospitals, I think shopping malls. Right. Maybe the new homeless of New London can pitch tents in the parking lot, if they're willing to pay enough rent.

Of course, this will never happen in Beverly Hills or Southport or Scarsdale. It will happen in the poor and middle class neighborhoods. Mostly the poor. They have always fed the rich. And the rich complain about paying for welfare. Yes, I see what a strain it puts on their family budgets. Puhleese. I can't imagine what the supreme court justices were smoking when they made this legal. Twenty dollar bills?

We don't live in a free market economy, but a free market society and that's just wrong.

MIA

It's been quite a while since my last post. I was busy, a week away, busy, feeling crappy. Now I'm back again, and will eventually relate my vacation tales, but for now you'll just have to be placated with my Dumbass Lyrics of the Day. Alas, they come from Paul McCartney, as many do while he sits in his smoky haze.

We went to town with the library
and we swung all over that long tall bank in the main street

That's just total wackadoodleness.

Aaaaarrrrggh!

I should not have complained about yesterday. Today was even worse. Do I hold out hope for tomorrow? No, not really. I think I'm going to have an alcoholic beverage tonight, assuming I actually get the chance while it's still tonight! Ugh. Bleah. I figure in about two hours, I can either enjoy a split of champagne while painting my toenails, or I can fall into an exhausted, unconcious, pathetic heap. I'm figuring on that second option. And no, I didn't get a chance to sew that stupid dance costume.

I can't wait for it to be over

Well, it's dance recital time again. It's not that I don't enjoy seeing my daughter perform, it's the getting there that hurts. Yesterday she got her costumes. She has two. One, she's performing in. The other, she was going to perform in, until I found out that that class performs the day before and no way in hell am I dragging all three kids there twice, and then rush up to some little town near Massachussetts for her piano recital that evening. Nope. But we got to keep the costume. So the one she's performing in is not remotely her size. They say they measure the kids. I don't know what they mean by that. They got her an 8-10. I don't think she'll be that size until she's in college. She looked like she was wearing my pants. And of course, they're not regular pants. They're ruffled bell bottoms. Her teacher said to me, "well, you'll have to cut them and sew them..." and I just stopped her and said "Uh, yeah. Right." Pardon me? I'm supposed to do this how? With a wave of my magic wand? Cause I sure as hell can't do it with my sewing machine. Do they think all mothers are seamstresses? So I don't know what the hell to do, but whatever it is, I have to do it TODAY because their picture day is tomorrow. Way to give us enough time, huh?

So the costume she's not wearing- Thank the gods! I opened the bag and there's a little sequined thingie with a diagonal shoulder strap and a piece of elastic dangling from it. I assume that piece is the other shoulder strap, which I must fit and sew, but I'm not sure where to sew the other end. Then, there's a strip of sequined stuff, which I assumed I was supposed to sew over the strap. Then there's a black glittery cap, and a bag of feathers. That's right, a bag of feathers. When I opened this up, I was like "What the?" So I sat for a while thinking of many possible ways to put this thing together. Finally, I went and found a catalog picture of it and NONE of my possibilities was correct! You'd think that for a hundred freakin' bucks a pop, the damn company could afford a sewing machine and a freakin' hot glue gun!

The other mom who opted out of that number from the beginning said "I saw the look on your face when you opened that costume and I'm sooooo glad we're not in it!" Yeah, me too. Maybe some day I'll put it together since we paid a ton of money for it. Hmmm. Could be one of my Vermont projects.

I really wish my girls would do martial arts instead.

Tis the Season for Porn on the Grill

Is it any wonder that Bobby Flay was a guest chef at Jackman's Table? I was watching his show yesterday and he was cooking some sizeable steaks. He said, (and I'm not the scriptwriter) "When you're done with a piece of meat, especially one this size, you have to let it rest because it's still hot and it will still be runny." I remember one show last summer when he was grilling some burgers. He was really putting his all into making these burgers and he said "You really want to pack in as much meat as possible" and then he looked right at the camera, gave the burger a good smack and yelled "WHO'S YOUR DADDY?" I almost fell right off the couch. If I remember correctly, that's the show when he picked up the girl at the produce store.

I admit, I have some ribs cooking right now, basted in something called "Bone Sucking Sauce".

Jankee Beisbol!

So the Sux are just mopping the floor with our boys. Sad, so sad. But we watch anyway because we're fools. I've started getting the baby to talk. Now when he sees baseball, he waves to the tv and says "Hi Tee!" Tee, being Tino. You know what's weird? That pitcher they call "The Big Unit". Now, there's a funny nickname, but the funniest part is that it's no worse than his real name. Randy Johnson. I don't even want to know what his mother was thinking when she named him that.

Sunscreen

A few days ago, the 13yo girl who comes over to help out sometimes was here. We went out in the yard after my daughter's piano lesson. The sun was high and it was hot and it was blazing down on us. As I looked at this fair redhead with the full sun on her exposed white arms, I could just about hear a sizzle. I told her she should probably have on sunscreen and she said she was fine. I said it again and she declined. So I said "Look, do you want to be a shriveled old hag by the time you're thirty???" Ah, if only I had had my camera to capture the look on her face forever. She softly said "Um, okay. I'll go put on sunscreen" and went into the house and put some on. So later, my daughter told her that I'll be 37 in July and she couldn't believe it. She said "No way! You don't look that old!" So I said "See? Sunscreen." Haha. (I rarely use sunscreen. When I was a kid, the ozone was in the sky where it belongs, rather than down here in our lungs where it seems to have enjoyed settling.)

whine bitch complain

I can't believe that one picture screwed up my whole template. Unbelievable. Now I have to try fucking with it and I'm so not computer oriented. And I'm tired and I'm hungry, which has little to do with it, but as long as I'm complaining, I thought I'd throw it in.

Oh, well now, that was easy.

Oops! I Almost Forgot!

Thank you, Veronica for that delicious picture! I hope he's feeding you well during your recovery. Ask him to do the lobster ravioli. You won't regret it!

And Dinner When He's Not...

Dinner When Wolvie's Home

Is it me?

People who can't make change are just plain frightening.

Because I Know Everyone Loves to Read About Barf...

Well, in case anyone misinterpreted, no, my husband didn't come home early from his trip. He left later. He's coming home tonight. And he got hit with a touch of what we have here too. Yesterday was my son's turn. I haven't seen that much puke since my husband was in college. He was pretty cheerful about it though. He stayed happy and active all day, which is good, but sucks, since that means he was puking all over the house. At least my daughters can stay in one place and use a bucket.
He also seems to have an evil sense of humor. A couple of times he would walk up to me, give a tiny cough, stick his tongue all the way out and make puking sounds. Then he'd laugh at me when I'd grab the wipes or whatever. He's only a year old. It can only get worse.

Bless His Heart!

DH is coming home. I have to be up every hour to try to get the little monkey to take some more ice if she can hold it down. Then I'm supposed to drive to the doc's at 9am. Not a good thing. I also have ominous rumblings of my own, but it could be that I didn't really eat dinner (I didn't get anything until around 4 in the first place) and just took two advils for my threatening migraine. He's changing his flight. He's coming home. I love him. I totally love him.

It's Just Like I Told You

My husband has a wedding in Florida this weekend. We won't see him until late Monday night. Not even fifteen minutes after he was gone, our 3yo started to barf her head off. I'm washing everyone's hands like crazy. I'm so terrified that we'll all get it. While he lies on a warm, sandy beach. I don't know how he does it.

Oh. Man.

http://www.randomthink.net/misc/ebay/

I'm gonna throw out a whole bunch of stuff today. Even if I need it!

Insomnia?

It's not that I'm not tired, or even not sleepy. I'm both, but I'm too tense and antsy to go to bed. Feeling crappy, with unhappy thoughts. I got some bad news this evening to top off how poopy I was already feeling. I have two kids asleep on the couch and I have to carry them both upstairs and change them into pajamas. I'm too tired to do that. DH isn't coming home tonight so he can't help, and yet I'm still in wait up mode for him. If I could only GET to bed, I could probably sleep for a couple of hours. I wish he were coming home tonight. Bleah. This is major suckage.

And On a Lighter Note

You know that song, "Judy in Disguise"? I can't remember the last time I heard that, but for some reason it was going through my head today. Only it was different. First it was "Poopy little guys with glasses on..." Then it was "Droopy little thighs my ass is on..." I need some kind of help.

Being Old Sucks

My elderly neighbor recently went into a nursing home. Yesterday I spoke with his wife. She said they've been married for 67 years and now they're living apart and they're heartbroken. All they want is to live together again, but she doesn't have the care he needs at home. I'm so sad for them. I wish there were something I could do. I was up all night thinking about it. I was hugging Brian tight. I hope that never happens to us.

The Trouble With Free Stuff

Ugh. Now Hello won't work for either of my accounts. I need to get Photobucket or something. Not good on a day when I feel like crap.

Crumpet? 

He's Such a Nice Boy

This is Tino offering me the bat to spank him for not hitting a homer last night. No no, sweetie. You did great. Unless you want me to, I mean.

Disney Angst

My daughter was just mentioning that when Kanga and Roo first came to the Hundred Acre Woods, everyone was afraid of them. I'm not even going to explore the social significance of that because I think there's an even greater issue there. Why don't they talk like Aussies? Worse yet, why do all the critters talk like Americans? Aren't they in England? And what are kangaroos doing there anyway? As far as I know, kangaroos, like coconuts, are not migratory. I don't know if an English swallow migrates to Australia anyway and I doubt they could carry a kangaroo, even if they grip it by the husk. African swallows don't even come into play here. Wait, what was I saying? Oh yeah. So why does John Smith, an Englishman played by an Aussie, talk like an American? Okay, so he's played by an Aussie who's really from Poughkeepsie, but we can let that slide. And how much did his mother hate him to go and name him John with a last name like Smith? Then again, not much else goes with it. Reinaldo Smith doesn't really work. Giovanni Smith? Hmmmm, Sebastian! Yeah! That's the rockinest boy's name ever. I'm going to try to dub it onto the dvd. I'll have to ask if we have that technology.

Finding Ways Around Things...

So look at this. The buttons work in another browser. The browser I have used the whole time, even before my blog came to be, suddenly doesn't work with the buttons. I can write in blue if I use IE, but not Maxthon, though I used to. WTF??????? Look, orange!

I Wonder What This Means

It occurs to me that at least half of my harem boys are lefties. Hmmm. That's a far greater percentage than the general population. Something for me to ponder aimlessly, pointlessly, fruitlessly. I wish I had some cookies. No, brownies.

Late for a Ben Waa gig. Eegee's gonna kill him. Damn midtown traffic! 

Not Wolvie, but I love this one anyway. Kitty and Colossus, who I hope we'll see more of in X3 instead of that lameass Kitty/Rogue hybrid and her trying to make out with a barely pubescent version of Iceman saga. Do I sound bitter?

And I just looooooove this one. 

My favorite cover. One of my favorite storylines too. In this one, Jackman's Table has hired extra security for a special event. Ru Paul is not getting in.

'Sokay, I'm over it. 

Damn you I say!!!! 

I had to get a new account under a new alias that I have to try to remember. I'm not happy. Damn you Hello Bloggerbot! 

Bring it home to mama, baby! Woohoo!

Anyone watching the game? I have such great taste in harem boys. Yes I sure do. My pookie ookie wookie hit another homer tonight. Nah, I don't really call him that. Not to his face anyway. I wish I could post a picture of him here, but technical support says that maybe they'll address my problem if they get the chance sometime in the future if they feel like it don't hold my breath.

Now I'm Mad!

Bloggerspot still won't let me click any of the buttons to change color, italicize, etc. AND NOW I can't post any pictures because Hello won't work. I uninstalled and reinstalled it a million times now. It's what I use to chat with my honey while he's at work (apparently getting paid to send xo's over the internet). Well, I suppose it's time for that thing I've been dreading. Technical support. If I ever get it working again I'm going to just spam this thing with Wolverine pictures.

I Guess I Forgot

Last night I started a new belly dancing class. It reminded me of two things. One, I'm very bad at dancing. Two, I'm exhausted. Dancing requires movement. Movement that's not just shuffling your feet and trying to keep your eyelids from falling down. You have to act like you have some kind of energy and are glad to be using it. Like you have nothing else to use it for. Sure. After a long day, there's nothing I'd rather do than exert myself. Oh, and I'm supposed to smile. Why do I do these things?

The Secret of Mothers' Day

First, let me wish all the mothers here a wondeful day. And for the rest of you, some helpful hints on how to REALLY make a happy mothers' day. I know you want to get gifts and whatnot. Okay. But guess what. Lack of bath salts isn't the reason she doesn't take luxurious relaxing baths. A gift certificate for a manicure or massage would be just lovely sitting there on her dresser until it expires. Flowers are very pretty until they're dead the next day from lack of care, or dumped because the baby tried to put some in his mouth. Are you getting it yet?

I imagine a moment when I can GO GET a manicure, or take a hot bath, or get a massage. But there's that ironic thing about mothers' day again. Yep, it's that motherhood thing getting in the way. Crazy, isn't it?

Put away your wallet guys. What your wife really wants is for you to BE THERE. Step away from the computer...that's right, you can do it...no, NO! GET AWAY FROM THE LAWNMOWER DAMMIT! Go to the children. Yes, very good. I'm proud of you. So you've told her that you will take care of the kids while she spends an hour or two at the bookstore cafe. Good for you! Now, when she comes home, what will she find? Sure the children are alive. Nobody has swallowed drano or stuck a finger in a socket. But what about the rest of it? Did they eat when they were supposed to, or will that happen when mom comes home to feed them as they leap upon her, clawing and whining before she has her jacket off? Will she have to deal with the fingerpainting mess that occupied them while she was out? Was the bedtime routine delayed in favor of entertainment, for her to do when she comes home and the kids are extra tired and cranky? Hmmm. Let's try again.

"Honey, today (whatever day it is that you have off) I will be the primary caregiver. You pretend you're me. Need to do something? Go ahead! Who's stopping you? Need a nap before dinner? Okay, I'll wake you when I'm about to serve. I'll take over the usual stuff because I'm their parent too. Sorry kids, you still have to clean up your mess."

You will notice by the end of the day that mommy probably looks prettier. She's not yelling. She is willing to play cards and stuff. Wow, who knew? I did, and now you do too.

EEW!!!! BOY COOTIES!!!!!!!!!

I took my kids to a birthday party today. It was at a K of C hall. The ladies' room was on our floor, the men's room was in the basement. There was a little boy there, about six years old. He had to pee. He couldn't find the men's room so he used the ladies' room, which was empty. Well, when some of the girls saw him go in, they freaked out and in turn so did their parents. I couldn't figure this out. The poor kid had to pee. What could possibly happen to the world by him using the upstairs bathroom? If we took the sign off the door would it have been okay? It was discussed in whispers during lunch, so as not to offend the kid's mother. I have to wonder about these people. See, in my house, we have the upstairs bathroom and the downstairs bathroom. If you're upstairs, you use the upstairs bathroom and if you're downstairs, you use the downstairs bathroom. Apparently, these people segregate by gender in their houses. Weird. I'm still trying to figure out what horrors have befallen the females at the party because of that supposed reckless menace to society.

Eating Out

Today I took the kids to lunch. No place fancy, just Friendly's. I had the need for some serious ice cream sundae action. Anyway, as we were going in, I was carrying the baby and trying to hold the door open for my other two little ones. A waitress was coming in from her break and you'd think that seeing a CUSTOMER, much less anyone struggling like that, she'd hold the door. Can you believe she actually squeezed in before I could lose hold of the door? I was really hoping we wouldn't be at one of her tables. Thankfully we weren't. This same woman was at a back table with some other staff, being loud and obnoxious. She yelled and then called one of them a little shit, prompting me to get "that look" from my 7yo. Now again, this wasn't any place fancy, but even at a hot dog stand, there is something called common courtesy and proper public behavior. Then again, maybe her lack of social grace is why she has to work at Friendly's.

On the flip side, although our waitress wasn't the brightest bulb in the chandalier, she was perfectly nice and courteous. At the table behind us, the man didn't say hello or anything. In a gruff tone of voice, as if she had done something wrong, he said "Gimme a diet coke with lemon!" Was that necessary? Her job sucks bad enough. Why make it worse? I bet he never even made eye contact with her. I left her a little extra beyond my already good tip. I like to tip well, because I can. I feel lucky and why shouldn't I make someone's day just a tiny bit brighter? I'm glad my kids are well-behaved in restaurants. Waiting tables must be a hard job.

It's Finally Happened

I always knew this day would come. I fought it as long as I could, which probably wasn't smart, but I am only 36 after all. I realize, though, that I have to give in. And so it begins. I have started using moisturizer. When I start using eye cream and foundation, you might as well just shoot me.

If I Ever Write a Book...

It will NOT have a pink cover, and on the cover there will not be kicky red shoes, a lipstick print, a martini/cosmopolitan, stockings, or a heart-shaped locket.

Please, publishers. STOP IT!

IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT!

I have just mopped the floor.

Please, everyone, calm down! Go back to your homes and for god's sake, no looting!

I Hate Alarm Clocks

The alarm went off in the middle of a nice dream. I was a princess and I was running away to marry Wolverine because I had the bag of holy potatoes. See, if the princess announces her engagement, she has to open the bag of holy potatoes and if the angels are happy, you know she's marrying the true and rightful prince. But like in all the fairytales, the wicked queen refuses to serve the holy potatoes, which must be eaten at the family's Sunday dinner for the guy to become prince. No, she wants the Idaho ones. King Dad (played by Tim Allen) was like, "THEY'RE JUST FUCKIN' POTATOES!" So anyway, the potato angels were very happy with Wolvie, so I took the damn potatoes and left. I figured we'd just eat them ourselves. Mashed, with plenty of buttah. Queen Mom was shocked and distraught, but whatever. Then the alarm went off before I could ride away on the Harley. Now that's just wrong. Wolverine's lips were soft. Mmmmmm.

I'm Such a Dork

I don't really like Ben Affleck, but he played Daredevil and now he's engaged to Jennifer Garner, who played Elektra. I think that's so cool. Daredevil and Elektra! Of course, they didn't actually go through with the wedding in the comic books, and somehow, I don't see Ben following through on this either. But it's damn cute!

Words of Masculine Wisdom

My husband said:
"Whatever they make purses out of, they should use it to make trucks so you could just keep putting stuff in them...It's a stagehand's dream!"

Bloggerbot Angst

Why is Blogspot becoming evil? It won't let me write in colors. Now it makes me put new links in a different font, even though I used the EXACT same html codes. Why why WHY?????

I think I found the problem here m'am. The compressor is shot. I can order you a new one. It takes about a week...

Modern Technology

We got a new phone yesterday. It has audible caller ID so I don't have to try to get up to see when I'm taking care of the baby. When Brian calls home, it yells "It's the man of the house calling!" That's the only one we've set so far. I think for my dad, it will say "Blah blah blah blah" and for my brother, "WARNING! THERE ARE MONKEY BOYS ON THE PREMISES!" Don't know what I'll put for my mother or my best friend. It has two really loud ringers that go off at the same time. I have no idea why, but it sounds like I live in a firehouse. We really need to change that before I beat it to smithereens and throw it out the window.

Interesting Day

I started out by dreaming about cake. It was my birthday soon and I was deciding what kind of cake to make. I thought of Donna's hazelnut jobbie and really wanted that. I realized that for MY birthday, I didn't have to make a cake that was safe for my daughter. I could use eggs and butter and she just didn't have to eat it. So my mission became to find a good recipe for hazelnut frosting. Then, suddenly, I was in a competition. My assistant passed me a layer with a sheet of fondant draped over it. I tried to stretch it and smooth it down but it was slipping all over the place. He went to fix it and completely mangled the cake, which made my head pop off, but then when I saw why, I let him have it. He hadn't put on any frosting first, so it didn't stick. I smacked him with my spatula a few times and screamed that if he ever came near any of my cakes again, I'd break off all his fingers and shove them up his ass. Then I noticed a very shocked mother and son who were watching the competition. Oopsie. Well, you know these temperamental chefs. So I woke up thinking about cake, and what I might make for my birthday.

After lunch, I went and got my belly button pierced. I went to a really nice place in New Haven. They had a big waiting area with nice leather couches and a big TV (which was playing some soap opera). The piercer was so nice and he had three kids too. Turns out he was a big X-Men fan and when I mentioned the tattoo I'd like to get, he and the tattoo guys went mental. They said they had never done one but would love to because it was so cool. The piercer guy went and got a big glossy book of Marvel character drawings to show me. He was like a little kid. The tattoo guys were asking if I was going to get it. I said I had to find the right picture first, which I've been trying to do forever now. They were pretty excited. I go back in two weeks for it to be checked.

Anyway, nursing Angus with the belly button thing is quite a trick. So far, I've managed to convince him each time that the shiny new thing isn't really that interesting, but he also likes to wrestle, so ow. And yeah, ow. Ow. But it will be better soon. Some of my friends had an interesting reaction. They all said they wished they had a nice belly worthy of decoration. Good lord! Mine is trashed from the three kids. Completely wrecked! So what? I'm not going around showing it in public. I like to wear nice undies too, but I don't wonder first if the general population would like my big fat ass so maybe I should just wear white granny pants! I've never met anyone who deliberately chooses ugly clothes because they don't think they're pretty enough or thin enough to be worthy of wearing something attractive. Jeez Louise! Forget what your belly looks like. YOU are worthy of decoration!

The Planets Have Aligned

I finally got my violin bow rehaired. I finally got my belly button pierced (yes, of course it hurt but not as much as getting a needle in your spine), and after eight years, I finally painted the living room. (Now I have to figure out what to do with the couch, and in another eight years I can put up curtains) My writer's block is gone and I'm sewing again. Ah, blessed relief. Now if only Blogspot would let me write in blue.

Allergy Season Brings Tragedy

I was still sort of sleeping this morning when my daughter came in screaming "Mommy! What's happening to my nose???!!!" I looked at her and her nose didn't seem to be doing anything but sitting on her face like usual. I asked her what was wrong with her nose. She claimed (all panicky) that it was shrinking. I'm totally serious. I just didn't know what to say. I asked what she was talking about. She then told me (and demonstrated) that her finger no longer fits! Good lord, where did I go wrong?

Family Secrets

3yo: Mom, why is Grandpa crazy?

Me: Because when he was five, he fell down the basement stairs in Wilmington, Delaware and hit his head and was never the same since. (my grandmother's actual explanation)

3yo: Oh.

7yo: He's not crazy crazy, he's just a nut.

The Greatest TV Show Ever!

http://www.spiketv.com/shows/series/index.jhtml?seriesID=13720&refID=invasioniowa

Hey kids, do yourself a favor and watch this if it runs again. Oh my. I sat horrified, yet laughing my ass off. Really, I could not believe the crap they pulled on these people. William Shatner is either a brilliant actor or a sick bastard. Probably both. I couldn't stop watching this. It was like a horrible accident, but hilarious! I have to get myself a shat. I can't stop thinking of him yelling at his assistant "I WILL SMITE YOU!" It was his motivational tape. Oh man. Go to the website and watch the fake movie they made.

"I've never heard such hogworsh!"

"Rima's butt is so magnificent!"

Of course that's what he was saying. That's why Kristin posted it and I stole it from her. My daughter doesn't believe that's what he was saying. I asked her what else he could possibly be saying and she said "Hello Mr. Hand. Hello Miss Hand".

Hmmm. Hugh and Craig seemed to have achieved the previously impossible. I think they need better supervision when I'm out. Well, at least he's found employment.

Trouble in Paradise

Craig's training is not going well. Last night I was watching his show, and he told Carmen Electra that he can't imagine ever being in a situation where he'd need to know how to give a lap dance. I can't believe he said that. Of course, I immediately put Hugh in charge of his training. That should set things right. I still can't believe he said that.

It's a Miracle!

Today is my son's first birthday. I guess you're figuring the title of my post refers to the miracle of life, of watching a child grow, etc. Yeah, okay, that too, but the real miracle is that in six minutes, I will have officially survived one year of being a mother of three. Okay, I'm much the worse for wear, but not as much as I thought I'd be. The children survived too.

My husband doesn't count. He gets to be all safe at work most of the time. My kids wait until he leaves for work before they all puke simultaneously. Any bones that snap or crunch also do it after he's settled comfortably on the train, reading his newspaper or napping. If I could do that, I probably wouldn't be so cranky. I wouldn't even have to go anywhere. Just three hours on the train sounds good to me. He gets that everyday. THREE HOURS EVERYDAY of nothing and nobody. It's unreal.

It's Shike N' Bike! An Ah Heyelped!

As I was cooking dinner last night, I thought of all those stupid commercials for things like Hamburger Helper or Shake N' Bake. The ones where they're sitting around the table laughing and nodding, but not speaking, presumably because their mouths are full of food. They just look at each other and nod and laugh. I'm picturing

Mom: Fun, isn't it?
Kids: Yeah! Chicken is waaaay more fun than the stuff we ate yesterday!
Dad: Thanks hon, this chicken is actually hilarious!

But it's all being implied with their expressions, and of course, being such a close family now that they have this product, they understand each other completely.

I might be a bad person, but I want to hit them all. Possibly knock their heads together because they're acting so stupid. Maybe mom just can't take it anymore and made it mushroom flavored.

Craptastic!

A few nights ago, I watched "A Knight's Tale". The opening scene was a tournament and they had Queen's "We Will Rock You" for the music. Everyone was stomping and pounding and clapping and singing it. Now, that was just stupid, but it was so cool too. At least until I realized that it was just a bunch of rennies. But how cool would it have been if it were the real thing? I know, I'm a twit. Anyway, it makes me want to watch the Freddie Mercury tribute concert. I believe one of Lizzy's boyfriends is in that one. Oh, and Liza singing "We Are the Champions". That's Craptastic!ism at it's best. Once you learn to stomach it, that is.

??????

I was out and about today and took a little snack break at Target. I was sitting there, eating some Combos when I saw on the bag that it is "Nascar's Cheese Filled Snack!" I wonder what that means. Do they have a chocolate covered snack? A beef flavored snack? What other kinds of snacks to they "have" and what does it mean by that? Nascar isn't a person so how does a snack belong to it? I do know that that particular bag was mine because I paid for it. I don't care if their name is on it, I didn't sign anything saying they could take it back. I just paid regular price and I ate it.

In a Bungalow While Monkeys Play Above-a

There's this animal show on PBS called Zoboomafoo. It's really cool. Where else can you learn that a binturon smells like popcorn? I've never even seen a binturon, much less smelled one. The only drawback is the dumb lemur, who I'd like to skin and make a hat from. What I especially like about the show are the hosts, the Kratt brothers. They are a couple of real cuties, and at first, you don't really notice that, but they start to grow on you, they really do. After about a week, you think "Damn, that Martin is hot!" No, it's not just me. I had another mom point it out to me, and before I knew it, a whole bunch of them agreed. It's just nobody wanted to say anything. I think the Kratts are aware of this, because they make sure to get wet and/or muddy during each episode. Of course, they're perfectly clean and dry in the next scene. If you TIVO it, you can watch it later with your friends as a drinking or betting game.

A friend of mine is an arts/entertainment columnist for a newspaper. She did a phone interview with one of them, but first, she interviewed some kids to find out what they liked best about the show. My daughter was one of them. I think she was four at the time. She summed it up with this:
Knock knock
Who's there?
Panther
Panther who?
Panther no panth, I'm going thwimming!

I'm waiting patiently to see them swimming with no panth, but I think they'd have to make a whole other show for that. I think I'll suggest it to PBS.

Fun for the Feeble Minded

My baby likes to take his naps in my lap, which is when I usually spend time at the computer (like now). It's an easy way to entertain myself for an hour, while I hope my daughters don't cause disaster. Anyway, so I've found these online word search puzzles. They just give you the theme, no word list, so you have to actually know what you're looking for. I was just doing one about mammals and I actually sat here trying to decide if a tibbar is a mammal. So I circled it to find out, and when it took it, I was kinda surprised, until I realized I had circled "rabbit". Look, if you had my kids you'd be an idiot too. I did get "capybara" all by myself though. Which leads me to my next post...

One of Life's Mysteries Solved

I used to wonder why people took drugs. Now I know. Today I have been bitten, smacked in the face with a handful of toilet water, lost a handful of hair, wrestled a very surprisingly strong baby to keep him from flinging poop and throwing himself onto his head off the couch while he screamed like he was being murdered, which only resulted in both of us being covered with diaper ointment. He is on his third outfit. My daughter is on her second. I have a feeling we'll be changing her clothes again today as well. They kept me up last night, fighting over the blankets. I am so tired and headachy. The baby is finally asleep on my lap, which leaves the girls to scream at each other, hopefully without anyone getting hurt. Now I only wonder why people who don't have children take drugs.

Happy Spring!

Today is the equinox. The kids and I will be coloring eggs. I just put some on to boil and after a minute or so, I heard a peeping sound coming from the pot! I'm serious! So of course, I told myself that a chick couldn't survive the delivery, supermarket, fridge, etc. and it's just the bubbles, but still, I took out every egg and listened to it and couldn't find which one was peeping. I don't remember that happening before and I'm very paranoid now. Thankfully, we don't eat the eggs. We chuck them in the pond while we sing and make wishes. I can't believe an egg was peeping. It's going to be a while before I get over this. Happy spring anyway!

Surprises

Okay, so as my husband so kindly pointed out, Tino is back in pinstripes. I didn't realize this, as he hasn't called, which I can't blame him for. At least he hasn't called me. Anything else you want to tell me about honey?

Absolutely Shocking

The other day I sent my husband to get me a big bottle of vanilla extract. When he got back he asked me incredulously if it was squeezed from gold. He suggested that perhaps I start using imitation vanilla extract instead. Oh. My. God. I'll use it when I'm living in a cardboard box and wearing a hefty bag. The fact that I won't have an oven then will only improve the flavor. (Raven would have SPAKed him)

Decisions, Decisions

I'm thinking about adding Craig Ferguson to my harem but I'm not sure. I'm afraid the others might pick on him. Not Hugh, he's always nice, and I think he'd get along well with my husband. Idunno if Wolvie will be so happy though. He was thrilled when I dumped Tino. (Having a long-distance relationship just wasn't working for me and he's just a different person now that he's not wearing the pinstripes. So sad) I think Craig would find Sir Paul a bit intimidating. Perhaps Bobby could take him under his wing as his marinade assistant for a while, until he finds his place. Well, I guess I'll just fax him the application he requested and see how it goes.

No, not that boyfriend, this one. Yes, I have more than one. My cranky one understands me. My happy one keeps me from killing people. (and I'm sorry, I forgot where I nicked this one from. Probably JL)

It's Official

Variety reports that indeed my boyfriend will be hosting the Tony awards again this year. Though as someone pointed out, it was official when his wife said so. Yeah, my boyfriend has a wife, so what? My husband doesn't mind.

My Continual Childhood

Toon Disney has been playing The X-Men and Spiderman cartoons late at night so I TIVO'd them. My kids and I all love them. I wish they still had the Hulk and stuff. I tried to get those from Netflix but they don't have them. I realized something crazy. I still know most of the theme songs. I don't remember Iron Man at all, but I remember almost all of the Hulk, Captain America, and Spiderman.

When Captain America throws his mighty shield
All those who chose to oppose his shield must yield!
When he's lead to a fight and the duel is through
Then the red and the white and the blue comes through
When Captain America throws his mighty shield!

Doc Bruce Banner (something) by gamma rays
Turns into the Hulk.
Ain't he unglamorous?
Wrecking the town with the power of a bull
Ain't no monster clown who is as lovable
As ever loving Hulk!
Hulk! Hulk!

For Thor, I only remember the last line. I can't believe the stupid new music they use for Spiderman. That was a cool song and now it's just chanting "Spiderman, Spiderman". My kids need to learn the real song! It's part of their cultural enrichment!

I'm an Idiot

I can't believe I did this again. Okay, I need a tattoo. It has to be in an obvious place where everyone, including myself can see it. It simply has to say "lactose intolerant". So if Wolvie and I make those brownies, I have to remember to grab the lactaid instead of the regular stuff. Meanwhile, bleah.

I lied. Hee hee! 

Okay, it was two more. Sorry. It's a sickness. I'll stop now, really. 

Just one more, because I have to. 

Bad Entertainment

So the other night, "The Mummy" was on. Not the old one, the new one. I hadn't seen it and thought it would be cool, and it pretty much was. If nothing else, there was Brendan Fraser looking all Indiana Jones. Well, so it was pretty fun until they actually found the lost city or whatever and when the bug ate through the guy's boot, through his foot, up his leg, and started running around in his chest while the guy screamed, I was done. That was it for me. Bleah. BLEAH!!!!

Yeah, I'm still feeling cranky and grumbly. I feel just like that picture. growlsnarlgrowlgrumble. I haven't been able to write for Jackman's Table in days. Longer, I think. I don't like that. Now stop lookin' at me.

What are you lookin' at, bub? 

Ugh

Brain...hurts... sinuses...help...need...spoon...remove...eyeballs...

Today I'm feeling rather cranky and complainey. (really? how is that possible?) Shut up!

Verohneecah sent me this. She snapped it just after he finished slicing Raven's cheesecake.  

"The Fountain", Chest Hair, and Blah Blah

Okay, I know there are a few of you out there who are very unhappy today, given a certian photo that has recently popped up on the internet. Why not set a spell and let me tell you a little story...

When I met the love of my life, he had three pathetic little hairs right in the middle of his chest, desperately struggling for survival, and their chances didn't look very good. It was the saddest thing you ever did see, but did I love him? Yes. So I decided that the chest hair issue would just have to become less important in my life (shudder). I stuck by him and when he turned twenty-five or so, my patience and devotion were greatly rewarded with the perfect pectoral pelt. Who knew? So you see, my little lovelies, don't fret. At least you know our guy HAS chest hair, it just has to grow back, and you know it's gonna be nice.

Of course, to be fair, eyebrows are a hit or miss thing. Sometimes they don't grow back. I'll be following that one...

The Strange Effects of Tupperware

I took my children to a birthday party yesterday. Given my daughter's food allergies, as usual, I brought cupcakes that I had made that were safe for her. The birthday family, who are friends of mine, enjoy my cupcakes and took them home afterward. My husband asked me later if all the cupcakes had been eaten and I told him probably by now they were because I sent them home with the Hawthornes.

BRIAN: Oh, that was nice. Um...did you, um....did you give them the carrier?
ME: No, I said "here, stick a dozen cupcakes in your pocket."
BRIAN: Oh. Well...I guess we'll get it back.
ME: Whaddaya mean? Of COURSE we'll get it back!
BRIAN: Yeah, I know.

The funny thing is, my friend who I gave it to asked me if the carrier could go in the dishwasher. She has a thing about not wanting anything that she can't put in the dishwasher, so if I had told her no, she probably WOULD have put them in her pocket. Hey girl, you know I love ya.

Cigar Break

A little more tongue with your beer, Casey?

Do the Wolvie Dance

This is what happens when your BB's are stuck on high.

Appetizing

I just saw a commercial for Jimmy Dean frozen breakfast gak. They said "The eggs come from real chickens. The cheese comes from real cows, and the sausage comes from Jimmy Dean." I'll let this speak for itself.

Things That I Will Never Do

I will not get a man haircut just because I've reached a "certain age". I will also not color my hair various shades of rust for the same reason. I will never order a plate of fat and a diet soda. (It is extremely likely that I will never order a diet soda at all. It tastes like chemical dooky and probably makes you grow another head if you drink it long enough.) I am confident enough to state this in front of the entire internet.

Penguin Phone Calls

I wish I had this technology. I wonder if these people know what he did? I hope so! I want to be penguinized too.
http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/penguincalls.php

I Need to Start a Band

Today I thought of a good name for a band. Jojo's Nuts. I don't know what it means. I don't know a Jojo, there was no inspiration, no process. I was just riding along and suddenly thought, "Jojo's Nuts would be a good name for a band." Coincidentally, I got a soda at the mall that said "Hoobastank" on the cup. Now THAT'S a band name. I mean, it's gross but it's great. I would use it, although it makes me think of something you spray Lysol on. "Spray the shower curtain so it doesn't get hoobastank".

WARNING!!!!! ACHTUNG!!!!!!!

If a restaurant menu in any way indicates that cheesecake is served by the scoop, for God's sake, DON'T ORDER IT!!! Thankfully, I haven't made that mistake, so I can't tell you from experience, but I do know cheesecake and as I said before, my brain is not in my butt.

"I'd like a chunk of spaghetti please, with slice of sauce" Not good, not right.

Secret Language Part 2

No Explanation Needed

Educational Television

I learned something today. I learned that Godzilla has a brain in his butt. All these years I never knew that! TV has also taught me that a nut-covered cheese ball floats. As I have mentioned before, however, I do not believe that risotto is a colonial food, even if the Food Network says so. My brain is not in my butt.

Is it Just a Secret Language?

I overheard the following conversation while my children were playing in their room.

3yo: (screaming very dramatically and tragically) I NEED THOSE SHOES!!!!!! (calmly) and a cow.

7yo: How about that stuff over there? There's a hairbrush and a thing.

3yo: Okay!

Use Common Terms Please

"Fat Free" half and half? What? Isn't that air? No wonder the coffee stays the same color.