For Tanner...

Kristen at Motherhood Uncensored is raffling off some VERY cool, VERY hot (as in mistakenly stolen) items to raise money for a very special little man named Tanner - the nephew of Her Bad Mother. Please pay her a visit, steal a duck button for your own blog (like the one I have to the right) and help raise money for a great cause!

Sarcasm = Bad Mommy

One day last year, my daughter was acting as though she had been raised by a pack of beagles. She was loud, out of control and in general, all over the map. I looked over at her, rolled my eyes and said, "Child, you need to be medicated." She giggled, I smiled and she was distracted enough to calm down.

I dismissed ever saying that because in our house, sarcasm rules. If you were a stranger sitting in our kitchen and heard the conversations, you might be shocked and wonder why my husband and I ever got married (and procreated, for that matter). If you were a friend, you would laugh, because that's who we are.

If you are my daughter's teacher, you call me up to ask what particular medication my daughter needs to be on, and "why hasn't the school been notified that she needs to be medicated?"

HOLY CRAP. Try being the mom on that particular parental gem and tell me how you feel afterwards. When I heard the teacher ask me "why, why, why," I was stunned. It took me forever to figure out what on earth she was talking about. I asked her if she was sure she was calling the right parent. Her response? "Well, she was acting up a bit in class, which was unusual for her, so I asked her what was wrong with her. She looked at me and said that her mother told her she needed medication."

I had to explain to this teacher that I had made that particular comment on a particularly LOUD and UNRULY day for my daughter (who DOESN'T have a kid with days like that?), and while I shouldn't have said it, I truly didn't mean it - it was simply a flip remark. Nothing more.

"Well, here at this school, we don't joke about matters like this, we take them VERY seriously."

I wonder what they would have said if I had ever made the comment, "what are you smoking?" to my kids...which I haven't, and I swear I won't... ever. Well, at least not until they are 18, out of my house and can be held fully responsible in a court of law for anything they do. Because then? It won't make me look any worse as a mother than I did to that one teacher, that one day.

How was your summer?

Mine was good. It dragged on and on endlessly like a professor I once had in college. I swear I could her the wind uttering "ummmmmm......" every day, just like he did. The only difference was back then, it put me to sleep (did I mention I sat in the front row?). This summer, it edged up my blood pressure.

We tried to do some fun things with the kids. We took them to an amusement park that was probably 1/25th the size of Disney, but the lines were nearly unbearable. I still think they had fun. Especially since one of them walked out of the park with a weiner hat, courtesy of their Dad. What kid's life isn't immediately bettered by the purchase of a weiner hat????

We took them to a water park which was more fun than I thought it would be. I went on one ride that should have been called "pee in your suit & puke at the end" because that is precisely what I felt like doing when it was over. The kids, they LOVED it.

Mostly though, what the kids did for fun was pepper me with questions (ALL.DAY.LONG) and fight with each other. "She knocked the sandwich out of my hand - and the doooooggggg ate it!". "He hit me in the head with a pillow and my eyyyyyyyyyeeeee hurtsssss!!!".

I can tell you there were many more days of fighting back and forth than there were of pure enjoyment. Wait, maybe they enjoyed the fighting? Or, maybe they enjoyed seeing my eyes bulge out of my head whenever they would sneak up on me and start tattling on each other. Yes, I think that's it. I couldn't ever find one location anywhere where I could get just five minutes of quiet. If I walked outside, there was always a child right behind me. If I was in the bathroom, there was a child knocking at the door.

I know, I know. It's called Stay-At-Home-Mom for a reason. Be a mom, right? I tried, I promise you I did. I think we all have those days that make us want to run screaming from the house. It just so happens that I had a LOT of those this past summer.

Now they are back in school (hooray!). And the only word I can come up with is this: bliss. It's been lovely. I have knitted like I have never knitted before (crooked scarves are IN, right?). I have nearly caught up on my laundry. I was on top of the dishes (until the kids made brownies using 17 different kitchen utensils, 2 pans, and 3 bowls - Betty Crocker, they are not). It is just so nice to have the house to myself. Multiple televisions are not screaming out Hannah Montana, World War III isn't occurring, there's no milk left on the counter, and I'm not finding wrappers all over the floor. I can get things done without having to chase anyone through the house to pick up after them.

I HEART SCHOOL. Mainly because now that they are back in school, I have my sanity back. I'm much more relaxed when they walk through the door now and I can handle their fights without feeling a coronary coming on.

And you....?

WANTED: Straight Jacket; preferably on the newer side without any drool stains.

I'm officially losing it. Maybe I never had it? I'm having minor panic attacks just walking through the house. To outsiders, perhaps, the house itself might not look that dirty. To me, it looks like someone picked it up and shook it all around and then put it back down.

I'm in house HELL.

What has happened? I opened a drawer in the kitchen and all of a sudden, a dim bulb went on above my head. TIME TO REORGANIZE. Not just the drawer, the whole freaking house. I've got bins for this, and bins for that, trying to "keep like with like". Right-o. It's working like a charm.

I start in one area, then pass through another on my way to do something for the first area and something ENTIRELY different catches my eye, so I drop what I'm doing to focus on the new thing. ADHD much? About the only good thing to come of all this is that I think I've finally discovered some missing socks. There were 3 under my bed alone (thank you Bella), one hidden in a basket in the kids' cubbies, and a whole slew of dirty ones behind the dresser in my son's room. I have yet to locate the rest, but I think I've put a big dent in the 4,762 that were missing prior to this exercise.

I spent nearly an hour trying to avoid a simple throw-away task. I had 3 used gift bags that were still in pretty good condition just sitting on my desk. That irritating little voice in my head kept telling me to just keep them, you might use them someday. Someday??? How about never? Every single time I'm in need of a gift bag, I'm already on my way to a party anyway and have to stop to buy a gift, so I always, ALWAYS just buy the bag when I buy the gift. Wasteful, yes, I know. My family has a gene called "hoard" that I'm trying desperately to avoid. Hanging on to those three bags would surely wake that gene up from hibernate mode.

As I write, I've actually stopped "organizing" for fear of hyperventilating myself to death. I walk out of one room and into another and OH MY GOD! THE HORROR! Must get to work in here...NOW. Then I can't breathe...so I walk around aimlessly, trying to establish some sort of normal breathing pattern. It never works. Tears start to form and I walk away from the spot, completely discouraged.

Know what else? It never fails that once I get some small spot cleaned up and Felixed (READ: Odd Couple reference), there's a demon possessed child waiting right behind me. That child wreaks havoc on that one spot because it's fun, apparently, to make your mom cry and breathe heavily into a paper bag. What better way to get her out of the house and into a straight jacket?

Irritants

Shirts inside of shirts. WHAT.IS.THE.DAMN.ISSUE????? Is the actual 2.5 seconds it takes to separate the clothes actually considered a waste of time? Why is this annoying habit seemingly an inherited trait? Did you train the boy to do it too, just to see what I would do?

Teachers who yell at my daughter to "stop limping" when she has a 3-inch long section of MULTIPLE layers of skin, missing from the bottom of her foot. You teach, therefore, you should be able to approximate the length of this gash (if you cannot approximate, think roughly along the lines of the length of a deck of playing cards). Because you teach, you should also be able to empathize with this child, knowing that such a gash, should it be placed on the bottom of your foot, will likely hurt like hell. If you absolutely are unable to imagine such a mishap befalling one such as yourself, please, come over to my house. I will gladly take my potato peeler to the bottom of your foot.

Dudes that like to look all "tough and shit", swinging their arms and screaming obscenities at their girlfriends while I'm peacefully driving by. Do you think after I honk my horn at you that I'm NOT going to stop 100 feet down the road when I see a police cruiser and tell them what your punk ass is up to? Oh yeah, and that was your kid in the car I presume? Nice example you're setting...ass hat.

Teenage employees at KFC talking to their friends in the middle of a busy time. No, I don't care if you chat it up with your friends. Yes, I do care if you discuss who you're sleeping with in a CROWDED restaurant. I was most impressed with the fact that you were able to make a sentence by stringing together the f-bomb (17 times) and some other small words and form a semi-coherent sentence. The nice 97 year old lady in front of me appreciated too...she started having a mild stroke after the 50th time you said what you did to that poor boy in the back of his car. I almost forgot to mention, all of the parents in the room that were oh-so-relieved that they didn't have to have the birds and the bees discussion with their children thanks to the way you so delicately described the act of sex for everyone to hear. Well done. You are marked for greatness my dear. In fact, you SO deserve a raise.

Laundry multiplies exponentially, yet socks seem to vanish at the exact moment I need to pack 8 pairs for my son's trip the very next day. Whoever thought this one up is extremely clever. I'd like to meet them...for a blanket party. I will bring the LEFTOVER socks that DO NOT HAVE A MATCH and fill them with the itty bitty chunks of bar soap that everyone usually leaves in the shower for me to pick up and replace with a full bar of soap. That oughta leave a mark, don't you agree?

My Review: The momAgenda

For years now, I have relied on a Palm Pilot, then a Treo, and now a Cingular 8125 to try to keep me organized. It never worked. After "forgetting" about a few key appointments (ie - soccer practice and a game), I panicked, cursed myself out, and vowed to find a new way to stay on top of things.

For a lot of people keeping a digital agenda works, and works well. At my best, I had EVERYTHING in my phone. At my worst, I had my phone and 8,472 sticky notes with things I should put into my phone. Right here was where I should have realized that I would be better off writing things down instead of trying to find time to type them in. But no. I didn't do that; not even a little bit.

Enter a frantic web search for "agenda for mom". Up popped the momAgenda...I was hooked. I hemmed and hawed for over a week before finally deciding to buy one. It came with a momEssentials book, where you write in all of your VERY important, not-to-forget information, such as phone numbers, birthdays, and medical history information (for that not-so-nice moment when you decide to clock your husband with something that is extremely heavy; for instances such as these, you are prepared). My favorite part of it all though, is the agenda. It is LOVELY. The first few pages are the "month" pages...followed by the meat of it all, your weekly agenda. I LOVE THE WEEKLY AGENDA.

The weekly agenda is important here because it has your week running along the top, and four spaces underneath wherein you write in what your kids have going on. GENIUS!!! I can glance at one day and see what EVERYONE is doing. Even better? It has an extra space on the bottom for you to write in what you are planning to have for dinner each night.

Check it out:



Before you ask, yes, I stole this image from the site. My intentions are pure though, this is a great system for mothers (oh, and they offer an agenda that is for "everyone" in addition to different sizes and colors). And before you ask again, no, I haven't put my meals in my agenda...it would pretty much only say "Mac & Cheese" or "Chicken Nuggets" every day, so I figure, why bother? I will get to the point where I actually cook some sensible meals, but for now, my husband takes care of our meals, and I'm happy to let him do so.

If you're looking for a way to get a grip on your everyday life, this could be your answer. I HIGHLY recommend it. And? I did this review on my own. No one asked me to do this, I'm not getting paid for it. While my writing skills may not be as high as those of a "real" writer, I think that when I offer something from one mom to another and say it "KICKS ASS", that might just hold some weight with you people. Check it out, you might like it!

A big THANK YOU!

Just a quick post to say thanks to EVERYONE who contributed to the MS Walk on my behalf. Our team actually beat (read: pummeled into the ground) our goal of $4,600! We couldn't have done that without your help, and it is SO very appreciated!!! Countless lives will be helped with your donations and I sincerely hope that you realize what a difference you have made.

THANK YOU!!!

A Cure

My friend Amy and I go back a ways...a LONG ways. She's seen me at my worst, listened to my hysterics, and has been woman enough to tell me when I'm being stupid and paranoid. She's been my friend...for more than 10 years.

For as long as we've been friends and for a while before that, her mother has had MS. At first, it was just a known fact. If you knew Amy, then you knew her mother had MS. Then it became a harsh reality as we watched her mother slowly deteriorate. The thing about MS is that it robs you of your body. Your mind is completely intact and sharp while your body just stops working. Amy’s mom continued to work as long as she could and even became a source of inspiration for others suffering the same disease as she wrote articles and letters about her disease. She inspired me without even knowing that she had. I’ve watched her, over the years succumbing to this disease, and just not giving up. She found love while confined to her wheelchair knowing that she physically couldn’t wrap her arms around him, but also knowing that mentally giving everything she had was well worth it. She’s a true woman in my eyes; filled with enough love to make everything okay…even though she’s facing what she’s facing.

Here's some more brief but sobering facts about MS:

• Over 400,000 Americans are currently living with MS, and someone is newly diagnosed every hour.
• MS usually strikes between the ages of 20 to 50.
• Two to three times as many women as men have MS.
• Having multiple sclerosis means that you may not be able to walk when you wake up. Or that you may suddenly have impaired vision. Or that your memory will fail you for no apparent reason. The symptoms of MS are different, and devastating, for everyone.

For my friend Amy's mother, MS has meant going from walking, to walking with a cane, to being wheelchair bound. There's no doubt Amy will someday lose her mother, and it will be sooner than her mother's intended time to go. I can't even come close to imagining what Amy's life will be like without her mother there.

So, over the next few weeks, I will be trying various different ways to try to raise money for the MS Lifelines Walk in Portsmouth, NH. I am hoping to get some support from you all. The easiest way to contribute is to go to the official webpage of the team that my friend Amy is leading: National MS Society-NE Chapter. Our team is Wiggins’ Warriors. Named appropriately, for the fact that we are not only walking for Amy’s mother, but also for her Aunt, who has also been diagnosed with MS. She has not one, but TWO people in her life that are touched by this disease…TWO.

At the very least, I'm hoping that this post will inspire you to contribute - if not to this cause then to something equally as important. If we don't, as individuals, step up to try to make a difference because we assume someone else is already doing it, then we've become lazy, and our world is no better for it. Take a chance on a cause; a good and worthy cause and see how good it feels to make a difference in someone's life. You never know who's mother you can save :)


*Special thanks to Jenn at Mommy Needs Coffee for inspiring me to post this. She is currently supporting this cause as she has already lost her mother to MS. Check her out!!!

High Aspirations...

Son: When I grow up, I wanna work at McDonald's.

Mom: Don't you think you'd be more capable than that?

Son: Yeah, but I'd get a discount on hamburgers and Happy Meals!

Mom: Uhhhh...Uncle Rick worked at McDonald's when he was in high school and he will never again eat there...does that say anything to you?

Son: I bet he wished he worked at Walmart instead!

Mom: Why is that?

Son: Because they pay like, 7 dollars an hour...that's a lot of money!

Mom: There's jobs that pay even more than that you know.

Daughter (finally waking up to join the conversation): Why're you picking Walmart? Target is so much better!

Son: Yeah right! They only pay like...minimum wage or something!

Mom: What's minimum wage?

Son: Like, 7 dollars an hour or something.

Abercrombie Wannabe

I'll admit that I've actually forced my body to walk into an anorexic person's dream store - a.ka. Abercrombie & Fitch. Actually, I sort of forced hubby's body to walk in there too. We were on a quest to buy him some new duds, and that happened to include a couple of funny t-shirts. I knew this store had some that he might laugh at (as witnessed on other people's bodies), so we braved the looks of the super-model, super-thin staff, and had ourselves a look.

I should tell you that a store like this intimidates me. It does on many levels. First, I'm pretty sure that on the application for employment it asks you the following questions:

FOR FEMALES:

1) What size clothes do you wear? (If you answer other than sizes 0, 2 or 4, please discard this application and try working at our Plus Size stores.)

2) How many times a day do you throw up? (Maintenance of weight is of utmost importance; if you answer less than 1, please discard this application and try to get hired at the Food Court.)

3) Does your vocabulary include words such as: "like" "ohmygawd" or "haaawwt"? (Ability to communicate with our customers is key - we ask that if you cannot say these words in earnest, you discard this application and apply at the smoke shop here in the mall).

FOR MALES:

1) What size waist do you have? (If you answer larger than a 28, please discard this application and walk straight down the mall walkway and apply at the Big & Tall store.)

2) Do you have the ability to mutter words such as "hey" and "how'r you" while simultaneously sizing up the person you are speaking to AND fluttering sexy eyes? (If you answer other than yes here, we ask that you discard this application and proceed to the Computer Gaming Store to ask for an application. We assume that by answering No, you are already deeply embedded into the Geek culture.)

3) Do you consider yourself to be chiseled? (If no, just discard this application.)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Second, I'm almost certain (at least in the store we've gone into) that if you walk in there and you are more than a size 4 as a female, or you are looking for a size large t-shirt as a male (because hey, you actually wear a large t-shirt) you will be SOL in finding ANYTHING that fits. Hubby held up a t-shirt that was a size large and said "I'm not into wearing tight clothes". Hmmmph. He was disappointed, and honestly, so was I.

Unfortunately, we cannot shop in that store. Hubby tried to find a pair of jeans in there that was NOT shredded to pieces, AND was his waist size; no dice. I tried on a size 6 and a size 8 pair of jeans and couldn't get my thighs into either pair. I have jeans that are a size 6 and a size 8 that do not come from here, and they fit perfectly! I think the Abercrombie execs sit there and come up with ways to keep what they consider to be Plus Size, out of their store. "Hmmmm....let's manufacture size 6 jeans, only, we need to make them smaller than an actual size 6. Let's face it folks, if a woman can't get into these jeans, she shouldn't be wearing our label."

Point well taken.

A heartfelt letter to the Tooth Fairy...and her response.

Here is what the "Tooth Fairy" came across while in stealth mode to retrieve a tooth that is, after all, hers:



And her response? See for yourself...




GAWWWD...the Tooth Fairy is so bitchy lately, don't you think???

Merry Christmas

I received this via email this morning and I thought it was too cute to just sit in my inbox!



Dear All,

My heartfelt appreciation goes out to all of you who have taken the time
and trouble to send me "forwards" over the past 12 months. Thank you
for making me feel safe, secure, blessed and Healthy.

Extra thanks to whoever sent me the email about rat crap in the glue on
envelopes - cause I now have to go get a wet towel every time I need to
seal an envelope.

Also, I scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.
Because of your genuine concern, I no longer drink Coca Cola because I
know it can remove toilet stains, which is not exactly an appealing
characteristic.
I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be
pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.

I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a
water buffalo on a hot day.

I no longer go to shopping centres because someone might drug me with
a perfume sample and rob me.

I no longer eat KFC because their "chickens" are actually horrible
mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.

I no longer worry about my soul because at last count, I have 363,214
angels looking out for me.

Thanks to you, I have learned that God only answers my prayers if I
forward an e-mail to seven of my friends and make a wish within five
minutes.

I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl on the
internet who is about to die in the hospital (for the 1,387,258th
time).

I no longer have any money at all in fact - but that will change once I
receive the $15,000 that Microsoft and AOL are sending me for
participating in their special on-line email program.

Yes, I want to thank you all so much for looking out for me that I will
now return the favour! If you don't send this e-mail to at least
144,000 people in the next 7 minutes, a large pigeon with a wicked case
of diarrhea will land on your head at 5:00 PM (GMT) this afternoon. I
know this will occur because it actually happened to a friend of my
next door neighbor's ex-mother-in-law's second husband's cousin's beautician.

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year

Patricia A. Massari, age 25

Dear Patricia -

Today is the 5th anniversary of the day you were taken from this world too quickly. There are no words that can justify or explain your death, only sadness at what should have been.

You should have been able to finish the conversation with your husband about the baby you were going to have. You should have had time to hold a newborn in your arms and revel in the sheer joy of him/her. You should have had time to tell those you loved that you loved them - even if for the last time.

You should have had time to live...


I never knew you, but your picture makes me think of you as a someone with a ready smile, who could light up a room, simply by walking in to it. I also think of you as someone who not only gave great love, but that you also had it in return.

Today as I stand at the memorial service that is planned in honor of you, and the others that perished with you, I will think of you. I want you to know that contributing to this project has forever changed my life. In this sense, I want you to know that you did not die in vain. Writing to you and about you has made me realize that we all live on borrowed time. I cherish now, every moment I have with my children, all the while knowing that this is something that you were denied. I cherish my husband and let him know every day how much I love him - something I imagine you did as well, but this too, was taken from you. Your life has touched mine - and reshaped it so that I do not take for granted any of the things you and your family have been robbed of.

I thank you for bringing this change into my life.

Your family and friends who mourn and remember you now have suffered a tremendous loss. Your life was of an immeasurable importance. You cannot be replaced, and you will not be forgotten.





Patricia A. Massari, aged 25 of Glendale, NY was taken from the world on September 11, 2001.

The morning of her death, she had discovered that she and her husband of two years, Louis, would be expecting their first child together. After a bit of discussion and excitement, she left for her job as a capital analyst for Marsh & McLennan on the 98th floor of Tower One. That was the last time her husband saw her. He was on the phone with her when the first plane hit the tower, and heard her last words.

Remember Patricia…
if not for the fact that she died in the attacks of September 11, then for the fact that she will never be able to know the joys of raising her child with the husband that she loves. What was taken from her is something the rest of us are fortunate to have, but seldom give thanks for it.

She was a mother (to-be), she was one of us.



This tribute is part of the 2,996 Project. Please take some time to view the tributes to the other victims of 9/11.

Information for this tribute was found at: http://memorial.mmc.com/pgBio.asp?ID=174.

The Most Wonderful Time....

So now that Staples has weaned me from their annoying commercials with the parents with the Easy Buttons that magically deliver all school supplies with one push, I have one thing to say...

I get it now.

I totally get it. I've seen these commercials 80,000 times or more, and I'd always just think it was because the parents liked back to school shopping as much as I did (I always smuggle in some new pens or some other organizational tool thingy with the kids' gear). This year, I know I'm wrong. This year I've actually spent an entire summer with my kids. I now know that the Staples commercials are really geared towards the parents who seriously cannot wait to send their kids back to school.

Perhaps it was the time my kids decided to have a HUGE fight over who got to push the buttons on the elevator? Or maybe it was the time they rode the skateboard down the driveway just far enough to jump off and watch it roll down into the road before it was demolished by a car? Nah, it had to be the time my son took a brand new bottle of soda, shook it up, and then opened it in my brand new car? Who knows...I am fairly certain that I am looking insanity directly in the eyes at this point.

It's sad to say, but I need them to go back to school. I really do. I loved the first part of my very first summer home with them, but it's time for them to go back and join the ranks of their fellow students. Definitely soon; definitely before they come up with some new ingenious plan - whether it be buffing the scratches out of the side of my car with a brillo pad because they like to "help", or just cleaning up by using bleach cleaner on my wood furniture...

To Crazy Lady in Vegas...

I tried to leave a comment on your "Coming Out" post, but blogger kinda f'd it all up and so now I'm left with no other option...

I'm outing you on my blog, so my other two readers will then go to your site and see what the hell I'm talking about! (CLICK HERE TWO FAITHFUL READERS: Crazy Lady's Coming Out!)

All I wanted to say was "nice to meet you"... sigh....

My work for tonight is done.

I ROCKED out Y'all!

Hubby took me to a Goo Goo Dolls / Counting Crows concert Monday night. We had VIP passes, and one of the women my hubby works with got us backstage to meet the Goo Goo Dolls themselves!!!

Here's my proof...



I'll admit, when I first started sending this picture out to my friends, I jokingly put in the email that Johnny Resnick was patting my behind. That was until my hubby looked and said, "you know...looking at that picture it could look like he was!" Now I don't say that anymore for fear of causing Johnny Resnick (who IS so much hotter in person that you could fry eggs on his tight little belly) unneccessary nightmares from the mere thought that he may have touched moi inappropriately. I'll just settle with the evidence that I, a mama wannabe, got to meet someone famous and was close enough to smell him, and close enough to THINK for a moment, about licking him.

What I've Learned While Staying Home

Here are some things I've discovered these past few months in my transformation from mundane 9-to-fiver into the fabulous undomestic goddess wannabe I currently am:

1. There actually is a limit to the number of times you can serve your children macaroni and cheese and frozen chicken nuggets. Even if the macaroni and cheese is Kraft.

2. Your house smells a lot better when you clean the toilets regularly as opposed to "when they look like they need it".

3. Soccer Moms do exist. Soccer Moms come in various shapes and sizes and some of them were planted here straight off the set of "Stepford Wives" in order to make newbie stay-at-home-moms feel even more inferior than they already felt.

4. It is impossible for a stay-at-home-mom to sleep in. Sleep is a naughty 5 letter word that SAHM's apparently aren't allowed to use, mumble, or otherwise act upon....AT ALL.

5. It's true that when you stay home, your house sometimes turns into a daycare. Complete with unruly children with very bad attitudes and haircuts to match.

6. It's also true that the arrival of the new "daycare kids" coincides with the amazing disappearance act of every stitch of food in your pantry.

7. It can also be said that other people's children can drive you to the brink of insanity. Which, honestly, makes it hard for you to drive ANYWHERE with these other people because you are feeling this intense need to "drive" them where their children have taken you. (NOTE: In these situations, it's best to keep both hands at your sides; refrain from grabbing the steering wheel).

8. The demand for late night activities with ones husband increases. This happens because the husband inevitably feels that since you are at home now, you are more relaxed (ie - you don't really do ALL that much during the day now, do you?). When you are more relaxed, you probably find your husband more attractive. I'm going to liken this phenomenon to chain vomiting. You know, one person throws up, another sees them and throws up, and it just goes on and on and on.

9. There are books to help those who cannot seem to run a house as efficiently as June Cleaver. Seriously, there are books!!!

10. There are also books on how to cook, yet another area of domesticity I haven't mastered, unless you count my unrivaled mastery of cooking Kraft Macaroni and Cheese while simultaneously baking cheesy chicken nuggets in the oven. Oh yeah, I make mean cereal too.

11. When you buy a minivan because you need to have more room to chauffeur around your own two kids and two dogs, apparently, this tells the world that you have room for their kids too. You've now become a bus driver without the ability to charge any money at all for the ride, and without the swanky drivers cap.

12. It is impossible to give up the vision of being a perfect mom when you stay home. Even after finding out that the perfect mom down the street attends swingers conventions and goes by the screen name "ScreaminGenie", you still hold tight to the dream of everyone on the face of the earth marveling at what a wonderful job you've done raising your kids, and, "Oh my! LOOK at how clean her house is!" Yeah, that's so not happening here...but, there's always tomorrow :)

okay, so now I'm REALLY back!!!

I've missed my bloggy friends :) Just a quick update, we moved to a new house - though our old one hasn't sold yet (crap). We took a week to settle in, and had some major problems with internet and phone that are hopefully fixed now. We will see though. I will post about the triumphs and tragedies that occur when one moves soon. For now, I would like to make a simple request that we all lend a small round of applause to Metrocast for finally getting us hooked up again.

Apparently, the new house had old connectors on the coaxial cable that schmeared our signal all to crap and made it so I couldn't even take a peek at everyone's blogs to see what they've been up to. The connection would be fine, and then I would start to think about visiting one of y'all, and it was like the grand internet barfed all over me then rolled over to take a nap without so much as an "I love you". I've been in hell everyone, and I've made it back to share the story. I've got loads to share - "How NOT to fill out too many Change of Address Forms (a.k.a - How NOT to get ANY mail - Even VERY Important Checks)", "How to Lose a Dog at a New House - Errr...Scratch that...TWO FRICKEN' DOGS", and my personal favorite "How Moving Companies Make All That Cash, 'Cuz Honestly, They're Loaded After What They Charged Us".

I've a feeling I've lost some of you along the way, so here's my apology for going MIA during a critical season of Mommydom - summer break. I miss you all and hope that I will hear from you soon!!!!

So, fill me in on what's new...leave some comments!!!! Please!!!!

Just got back...

I've been busy, and I've been gone...sorry friends :)

We just got back from Niagara Falls on Monday, and I've been going, going, going ever since we got back. I'll write more and post some pictures later - if y'all are interested!

Noah wuz here...

and frankly, he was a little miffed that trucks didn't stop for him like this -

So he put up a sign to make sure EVERYONE knew he was here -

Meanwhile, Satan was getting tired of listening to the masses trample on the ground above his head, straining to get a look at the damn dam that was going to burst, so he installed a direct pathway to hell.




Because hey, if you aren't on the Ark, you're quite obviously late for your appointment in H-E-double hockeysticks.


**Yes, these are actual pictures taken today. The first one was a guy that tried to drive across a road that was clearly posted as closed. The second one, I took on my way to Dover this morning, and the third one I took because I was told that a billion people were standing there yesterday, taking pictures of the dam because it was so close to bursting (it didn't). They were actually taking pictures of their kids in that very spot because something like this only happens once a century. They crawled through the BRIGHT YELLOW "DO NOT CROSS" TAPE to take their pictures! Today, there was a lovely sinkhole where they had been. They are lucky that they didn't fall through yesterday!