I'm leavin' this place

Hey folks...
I've decided to leave these diggs and head on over to my new blog at improperly forward.
Come on over.  It's super fabulous.  ; )

who wants to go swimming?

You're not going to freaking believe this.  I was sitting out in the "office" (aka: a corner of the garage where Hubbs has been reduced to working since 700 children took over my house) last night just perusing the inter-clubs and noticed it was around 10:00.  Since my butt was numb from sitting so long, I thought I should maybe just head up to bed and call it a night.  Nothing productive going on around here anyway. Hubbs must have had the same idea since he just headed in the house too.

Suddenly he appears, eyes as wide as errr... Canadian Bacon and yells "get up! we have a flood!"

"FREAKING A, WHAT?!?!" (or something similar)... followed by "WHAT THE SHIT?"  and "Well for FUCK'S SAKE" seemed to be the only help I had to offer.   (See there, I got in all my favorite expletives right away for you.  Now that's over.) 

Long story short... we spent the next two and a half hours dirtying every damn clean towel (which I had finally just washed) in the house mopping up toilet water and whatever else I do NOT want to think about.  The mess is still huge and I really don't even want to talk about it, okay?  I'm just not ready yet.

My favorite part of the evening, which I have saved for last just for you, was the moment my darling Hubbs looked at me with a rich snub of disgust on his face and asked, "Well, who was the last person in this bathroom?

Nothing, and I do mean no. thing.  gave me more evil satisfaction than to look him square in the Canadian Bacons and reply, "Ummm... YOU!"

*I mean who else has the power to clog a toilet to the point it floods our whole downstairs?*

Pathetic Advertisement of Myself.

 I should start out by saying (and this should be glaringly obvious already) that I am in rare form today.  Tomorrow is the first day of a five, count them five, day weekend for me and I'm feeling a little scrappy.  It's a hoot. Hallelujah for Independence Day (not the movie, the day- the movie creeped me out.)

So, some of you may remember a day when I used to write a blog pretty much every day.  Oh man those were fun times.  Then I started working and had a mid-life crisis and almost died three times in one year... and the list goes on and on and on some more.  So, I stopped writing.  For a long time.  And ever since I have said "Oh, I'm going to start writing again..." and blah blah b.l.a.h.  Well folks, this is IT.

I have been approached a couple of times by a social networking site for bloggers.  They too think I should get back on the horse.  (My words, not theirs.)  They thought it was awesome that I had 10,000 blog hits that one time.  They want me to do it again so they can create a cash cow.  So, since I  have a laid back summer with only three kids rather than my usual 17,000 I think I should too.  And then I'll get really famous and they'll fly me all over the country for the big blogger conventions and I'll get swag and I'll have little advertisements in my margins that pay me money and it'll be AWESOME.  Oh, wait a sec... I mean, it'll be really fun to document the funny happenings of my life for all of you to read.

There's a lot of you that always tell me you want me to do the blog thing again.  And some new friends that claim you log into your facebook just to see the funny postings I've made.   I'm talking to you ladies... (and you too to the 2.5 men that read my crap).  It's time to put your money (not really) where your mouth is and support me in this little venture.  It's going to take you a few seconds to subscribe as my follower on here once I get everything set up and that'll be that.  Then, if you really do read my craptastic musings, you can comment every now and again and prove that you're a real person and not 54 different accounts I've set up myself to make it look like I have followers.  Get it?

Please don't do that now.  I am going to come up with a FABULOUS-O new name and switch blog hosts since this one is the K-Mart of hosts and then I'll do some tweaking(not to be confused with tweeting).  Once that's done, I'll have a grand opening and we'll have a party and cocktails and celebrate.  It'll be super.

Oh- and if you're my mother or my mother-in-law... just pretend you never read this because it makes me nervous when I swear like a sailor and talk about sex and know that you're reading it.  Just don't ever talk to me about this again.  OK?  ok.

Now, I have to go come up with a name.  I'm thinking jabber jaws.  Or lady jabber jaws.  (My cousin used to call my Grammy this when we were little because she jabbered all the time.  It'll be like a tribute to her.  hahahaahaha)
Seriously, I need help with a whitty, quippy, cut to the quick name. Any ideas?  Maybe I'll share my swag with you once I get some as your reward.  Maybe.

we don't need no stinking helmets

I was a little conflicted today about the oh so important topic of bicycle helmets.  I know I'm really going out on a limb by admitting this, but my kids rarely wear their helmets.  They really only ride on our quiet, kid-friendly street where a total of 42 children ride bikes from  sun up to sun down sans helmet and so far no one has spilled their brains on the sidewalk.  Anytime they venture further that that, they are expected to put theirs on or else!  (ahem. uh-huh.right.)

This is how it all began...
Some people I know asked me a couple of questions about helmets for my kids, and I quietly started to seethe regarding the neurotic nature of {some people}.  Would they send their children through life in a freaking bubble if it were legal in all 52 states?   Good grief!  Then I realized that maybe I should pop a Midol  and investigate why I had such strong feelings about the subject.

So what else is a girl to do when life's haunting questions need to be answered?  Post a facebook poll, of course.  Duh.  I was a bit surprised at the responses I received.  Not so much by the unanimous response of "HELL YES YOU WEAR THE HELMET!" but more at who some of the "hell yeses"  came from.

Here's something you may not know about me yet: I am a super, to a fault, laid back mom.  I don't stress over skinned knees, broken arms, 104 degree fevers or kids that sing along to the radio and know that certain songs bleep out the word bitch.  "The world is a big, nasty place and you might as well learn some of the pitfalls while you're under the safe, cozy warmth of my wing." is my unspoken motto.  Apparently up until today I didn't stress over head injuries either.

But, I'm getting a little ahead of myself.  So I'm reading my facebook replies and remembering previous conversations about the ever-loathed (at my house) bicycle helmet and getting kind of pissed- not at the responses, but at something that was just bugging me, making me question myself.

Here's something else you may not know about me:  I hate, no, HATE moms/parents that act or believe certain ways because that is the "good *perfect* mom" thing to do. Those moms that put themselves on a 2-year waiting list for the best preschool when they can hardly afford their groceries each month because that will put them in the {good family} group just make my skin crawl. Similarly so, moms that make their kids wear bike helmets because they are afraid of what the other moms will think of them equally give me hives around my neck.  (seriously, i'm itching right now just thinking about them.)  I think I was worried about being one of those moms.

So I was getting that itchy feeling all while I'm just "listening" to some women that I really respect tell me why they want their kids to wear helmets, growing more and more itchy.  WHY??  (Aside from the aforementioned "lunar cycle" that we won't talk about again.)  I'm ranting and raving about how much our kids hate the helmet and it would totally change pedaling around the 5-house-radius they are allowed to ride for them, and they are too hot in the summer and blah blah blah and...  Then Mr. Know-It-All chimes in with his cut to the quick logic that always gets me.  "If your kids had an accident tomorrow and became vegetables you'd kill yourself."  Well shit.

Taking a moment to truly ask myself why I was feeling so pissy about said helmet, I had to admit this one, gut-wrenching truth to me:  I know my kids need to wear the damn thing, but I am too lazy to fight the fight.  So I  turn to Mr.  Know-It-All (I honestly say that in a good way) and say, "So, we're deciding right now that our kids have to wear their helmets no matter what then, huh?"

YEP.

{Thanks friends, for saving my kids' brains!)

Craptasticly Awesome

[Craptastic]
1. in a good sense, the quality of being so crappy that the object is humorous or desireable

2. in a bad sense, extremely crappy

Here's some completely random craptastic thoughts for you.  I'm considering instituting Craptastic Thursdays for all the world to have the chance to read my craptastic thoughts.  I promise to stop using the word craptastic every other syllable after today.

• I've never seen it, but the movie Boondock Saints must have been something else for those brilliant writers to even consider making a sequel that is this freaking craptastic.  Hubby is sitting here watching it while I type and is giggling like an idiotic 7th grader, and all I can do is shake my head at the absolute idiocy that is creeping through the airwaves toward my brain.  Not since Speed 2 has there been such a sphinctacular display of sequel genius.

• Happy Hour Bar Food falls into the craptastic category {see definition #1 above} for a few reasons.  It is indeed so crappy it's good.  Grease + Grease + a sudsy beer = a few trips to the bathroom.  Note to self: visit happy hour after a 14 hour road trip to cure whatever ails ya.
  
• A brief disruption in high speed wireless internet (for a couple of days!) is completely craptastic.  Those silly neighbors that don't secure their wireless connection are a godsend.  No silly, I'm not admitting on the world wide web that I'm stealing bandwidth. I'm just sayin'... those guys are silly.

Okay, I think I'm done.  This craptastic flu I've been fighting seems to have shut down all of my "funny vibes" at around 10:15.  I must need to go to bed.

Nekkid is Always Good.

My kids may as well have been raised by nudists. I swear if they have a choice, they'll go naked. Or should I say "nekkid" as Jordan so aptly puts it. Elle is pushing seven years old and she's still okay with nekkid. If it's just us around the house, she's usually sporting a tank top and some undies. Jordan is a big fan of undies or maybe, just maybe, boxers.

It was FREEZING in our house this morning, and in a last minute dash I had to take Sis to school because she decided to watch cartoons instead of eat breakfast. This is a whole other story. At any rate, I told Jordan to get on some clothes because "Nekkid in the freezing cold is not so good." He quickly responded with a look of disgust... "MOM, nekkid is always good!"

Uh, DUH. Gah.

Here are some precious little tid-bits that were spoken to me today.  (All by people under the age of 4 and less than 4 feet tall.)

"Uh... I just told you that.  DUH. "

"Gah, what is YOUR problem?"

"The baby is spitting his food back at you because you are being so bossy to me.  I'm bigger than you so I am the boss."

"You need to figure it out, Mom.  It's really not that hard.  Just make a good dishishum." (that's decision.  and that sounds just like his dad.)

The list goes on and on.  The important thing is I did not lose my cool and I did not kill anyone today.  That alone should earn me a cookie.  Or a glass of wine.  I'm gonna go with the glass of wine.  

I should have said this earlier; but I didn't, so I'll say it now.  I do like these kids.  And I love watching them everyday.  I just can't believe the things children will say- not just these children- all children.  What the heck is wrong with me as a mom that my kid thinks it's okay to tell me to "figure it out".   Furthermore, what kinds of things is he hearing me say that gives him these kinds of ideas?  Oh right, I forgot... he sounds just like his dad.  Looks like I'm off the hook.  Teeheehee.

Look out folks, Spring has Sprung!

Spring is slowly becoming my favorite time of the year. I adore fall.  It's my personal happy place, the busyness of the summer dies down, sweaters and slippers take the place of {the dreaded swimsuit} and a general comfy-cozy feeling takes over our house.

But for my family, spring and summer are slowly winning out as my favorite time of the year.  This weekend marked the official start of spring for the Budinich's... softball season began with our Tri-Cities tournament.  No, I don't play.  Come on, seriously?  But Jimmie is a heck of a pitcher, Jordan is an awesome dig in the dirt on the sidelines enthusiast and Elle rocks as a cheerleader for her dad!*

Uncle Joe Joe Dancer drove all the way from WSU to play and was awesome. He even slammed into the outfield fence catching a deep fly ball.  He is a rock-star outfielder!

Here's a few pics from the weekend.**

The Brothers: Scouting the Competition

Practice Makes Perfect.

 Cheering the Day Away.  (*Not the pom-poms and short skirt kind of cheering, thank God!)

Hangin' with his hero, Joe-Joe Dancer.

Enjoying some down time in between games.

He's so awesome!

**I won't even talk about how badly my camera sucks.  Did you hear that Easter Bunny?  Oh wait, you're broke?  Crap.

A thought...

I am absolutely in love with my life.  I have the most fabulous husband and kids in the world.  I get to stay home and play with my kids all day.  And I get paid for it.  Hubby doesn't have one of those smokin' hot neck tatoos.  What more could a girl ask for?

Welp, what more needs to be said?

A Valuable Lesson

I learned an incredibly valuable lesson as a mom today.  If you're not a mom, this might not be totally interesting to you, but hang on to it.  Someday it might come in handy.

As a parent, it's easy to become focused on the negative/less desirable qualities or things our children do that we hope to one day steer in the right direction.  As moms, it's sometimes even easier for us to blab our frustrations, insecurities, even negative attitudes about these things to those that share an interest in our children (i.e. teachers, caregivers, fellow-parents of friends, relatives, etc.)  We have our reasons for this: we need to vent, we're feeling a little insecure about it, and we want the other people to know "oh yes, I realize this is a problem!" or we're just so fixated on the issue, it leeches out of us in every situation.

Here's the lesson I learned: SHUT YOUR MOUTH!  You have no idea how you are affecting your child and what you are setting them up for by doing this.  Since I've started my daycare, people feel a certain connection or something with me that makes them want to share all of these types of things.  I realized today, that when I meet their children for the first time, or really have a chance to be around them, I already have an idea of what they are going to be.  If I've heard negative, somewhere in the dark recesses of my mind, a place I wish wasn't there... I've decided I don't like the kid.  This is not normal for me!  I like almost all kids!

Please oh please moms... remember this.  Hopefully there are people in your inner sanctum, circle of trust that you can vent to and get advice from.  For all of the rest of us, speak about your child like they are God's gift to the universe (because they are!) and expect that the people that are helping care for them or spend time with them will see them as perfect angels*.  You'll be amazed at how we actually believe they are!  They might even start acting like it for you.

*Before you get on your high-horse, please realize I know there are legitimate issues that need to be shared with teachers, etc.  I would just urge you to really evaluate if your situation truly is one of those issues and what the most supportive and positive way of communicating about it is.  Really people, you'll be amazed.  I'm learning this the hard way myself.  

Adorable Oldie. An Elle Feature.

I think my child is a relatively normal three-year old.  She is very bright, creative, curious, energetic, and sassy.  She is the typical 'princess' child.  There is one small thing that I am a bit worried about, especially looking ahead to her teen years. 
She loves boys.  I am not exaggerating here, she loves them.  Actually, she loves the idea of dancing with them.  I'm not exactly sure where she got this, maybe her favorite princesses always dance with their handsome prince.  Maybe she has gotten a glimpse at a Teen Disney movie while I was busy doing something and forgot to change the channel after her favorite cartoon.  Whatever it is, when she sees a boy she has a liking for she exclaims, "I want to take him to the royal ball!"  Or, "When I grow up I am going to the dance with him!" 
She's had what I used to refer to as "toddler crushes" on many people.  Her teenage uncle's friend Alex has been a favorite for years now. (Seriously, since she was about a year old!)  Then there was Riley, a family friend about 20 years old.  And then it started getting worse; we would go through the drive-thru somewhere and the dorky looking, braces wearing (this is a BIG plus on the toddler scene) floppy dark-haired drive-thru "hunk" was added to the dance card.  I have really gotten over being worried about this since I've repeatedly heard that it's normal for a lot of little girls, and NO, it does not mean we are in for trouble in the teen years so I don't need to start looking into convents and chastity belts!  Then along came Superman...
We rented the new Superman movie a while ago and after much begging and pleading her Daddy let her watch it with him.  She is really into the Incredibles and other super-heroes so we just thought she wanted to check out a "real" one- not a cartoon.  Keep in mind this was weeks ago.  Then when it was time to return the DVD she cried, I mean sobbed!  She just kept saying, "But I LOVE him!  Please can we keep him?"  I thought she just meant the movie, so I promised we would rent it again another time.  For the past few weeks she keeps asking me, "Is it time to rent Superman again?"  "Not yet dear, maybe soon," is my standard Mommy reply. 
Then she started saying things like, "If there are Ickies (monsters) out my window Superman will save me."  I noticed that she replaced Daddy's name with Superman's in this reassurance to herself but I didn't think anything of it, he IS Superman after all.  Then when we went to buy Valentines to give to her friends this week she had to have the Superman ones.  I tried to coax her into getting her usual pick- Princesses, Dora, even Barbie for crying out loud- but, "NO WAY!  I NEED SUPERMAN!" was her only response.  Fine!  Once we got home all she wanted to do was open the cards and look at him in the six assorted poses as well as on the poster that came in the box- Good Lord!  "This is starting to get a little much," I start thinking.  Then yesterday it really came to a head.
"I need Daddy to fix the TV so Superman can come out!" she says emphatically.  I try to explain it to her, but it's like trying to reason with me- it just doesn't work!  So we let it go.  We had a really busy day and she didn't mention it again so I forget about it.  Then this morning I'm giving Jordan a bath and she comes in to ask me if Daddy fixed the TV yet?  I don't know Elle- you'll have to talk to Daddy about that one (hoping to get a little help from the big guy explaining the electronics to our now love-struck girl!)  She goes in to wake up Dad and ask him her question and a few minutes later returned beaming! 

"Daddy said he will fix it and then Superman will come out and be with me! Oh Mommy, I love him!!!" 

"That's nice," I say- thinking she means her Daddy and wondering why the hell he would tell her that!

"And he loves me, Mommy.  Superman and I are in love just like you and Daddy!"

"WHAT????"  I thought you were talking about Daddy!  Honey, you can't be in love with Superman.  He is pretend.  He's only on TV and you are JUST TOO YOUNG!!!"

"Well, I TOLD YOU Daddy is going to fix the TV so he can come out and be with me!"

"Oh honey, we need to talk to Daddy about this!"

So we go in and really wake Daddy up to hear that he has no idea what she's talking about and he must have been talking in his sleep.  He hears all about her plans to be in love with Superman or whatever and not so gently tells her he's just pretend and can't come out of the TV for Christ's sake!
Heartbreak!  I quickly whisper that he needs to be gentle on this one she's "in love" and so he tries to reason with her... "But Daddy, I love him!"  And for the rest of the morning and now that I look back, she keeps repeating how much she loves Superman and that he loves her!  Oh, Good Lord!  Is this what we have to look forward to?  I'm back to worrying about the teen years!

Because I said so.

OK, so at the risk of losing all my "cool" points (that opening of a sentence alone tells you I have none) I'm going to share a bit of fact with you.  I don't really think Bob Dylan is anything to be impressed about.  His voice creeps me out and I just think he's weird.  There's nothing about him that makes me want to listen to his songs. Nothing.  No. Thing.  Just wanted to make that clear.

Here's some other interesting tidbits I've thought about today while on my "day off"* at home. 

Things I miss about living in a Real City.

• Major Chain Restaurants.  Red Robin, Olive Garden, and PF Chang's to name a few.  These are no 5 star, blow your mind restaurants, but in a town that literally has 7+ Mexican Restaurants and a handful of other mom and pop shops, a damn Banzai Burger and some Fettuccine Alfredo are a distant memory.  
• Anonymity.  I like being able to go to Walmart without seeing one single person I know.  I like not caring what I look like when I go to the post office because, what are the chances I'll bump into someone I know?
• Other People's Privacy.  I love the not knowing of some seriously embarrassing information about people that should never have been repeated but was because, let's face it... what ELSE do we have to do?

Things I love about living in a small town:

• No decent restaurants within a 100 mile radius that would only serve to totally screw over my diet and add inches to my ass.
• Constantly bumping into really great people around town who have become great friends in a relatively short period of time.  Especially considering most of them have known each other since at least junior high, and were amazingly welcoming to us when we moved here.
• A never ending supply of seriously juicy gossip that makes the mind numb when one tries to figure out, "Do real people actually do things like that?"

So, what makes this random cacophony of information anything you actually want to hear about?  Because I said so!  Duh.

*My "day off" consisted of running errands with a four year-old for three and a half hours, at least three of which enduring an endless strain of questions involving "Is it time for McDonald's yet?"  Doing three loads of laundry.  Organizing Preschool/Daycare supplies.  Chasing my moronic dog around the neighborhood.  Twice.  Running children to various clubs.  Making dinner.  Loading, Running, Unloading and Re-Loading the dishwasher.  Spending a day of bliss at home and not working for the man no mo. 

You're gonna need a chainsaw for that.

When I was in the shower this morning, the sensation of water hitting my skin was a little different than usual.  (Hang in there, I promise this won't be more than you can handle!)  It literally hurt as the water ran over my legs.  When I looked down I swear to you it looked like fur was growing on them.  I don't know what happened to me, but I seriously must have forgotten to shave my legs for about a month.  I don't have super hairy legs and I'm not super religious about shaving in the winter but this went to new levels even for me. I don't know how this escaped my notice!

Fortunately, I was up a little early for work so I could tackle this problem head on.  Unfortunately, the last time I bought razors, I went the cheap route... because it's winter.  I started hacking at my legs, desperately trying to rid them of the redwood forest of growth, and two razors later, I was finally rid of most of the growth from the knees down.  The whole time I was in the shower I kept giggling at a flashback from my teenage years.

My mother and two friends and I decided to bet on who could go the longest without shaving our legs one winter.  I'm pretty sure my mother won- and now I understand why she really didn't care how long she went without shaving!  Sometimes, life just happens and the hair keeps growing.

Another Awesome Oldie!

{I thought this one was awesome as I was reading it last night because I just happen to be stuck smack dab in the middle of some sort of dejavous experience right now!  So super-awesome!}

Whew- what a week.  It started Tuesday with what else but my period. yech! 

After 19 years of it you'd think I'd be used to it by now.  Not so much.  Every month is the same crappy feeling and the beginning of counting down the days till it's over.  Tired, cranky, crabby, bloated, can't-stuff my-face-full-of-enough-sugar fits of rage are just the tip of my ice-burg.  Good for you if you don't have these fantastic feelings when you are experiencing this lovable time of life. Good for freaking you!  (And yes, I know- NINETEEN years of having a period- that really makes me feel OLD!)  {Insert shocking news that I've now tipped the scale to TWENTY-ONE years of menstrual bliss. Also awesome!}

To top it all off- I had PMS and a crappy period.  Usually it's one or the other- not two whole weeks of bitchiness- my poor husband.  And to put a cherry on top of that... he is, of course, having his period too.

"Urgh!  Get over it!  Yes, I'm bitchy right now.  Stop pushing my damn buttons!  No, I don't want to cuddle.  Get your grubby hands off me and go away.  Leave me to my girl TV and chocolate and give me some damn peace and quiet.  Sure you can go out with the guys for the night, go for the whole week. PLEASE!" 

Anyway, my mind always feels about 1000 miles away when I'm having "the time".  (Exactly what is the appropriate way of talking about the period repeatedly without grossing people out? heh- deal with it, I'm not feeling too accommodating.)  I can't complete a thought half the time and I forget to do all sorts of things.  I think I made it through the week with only a few small mishaps- at least I hope so!  Next week I may realize I left a pair of panties stuck in the oven or some other totally ridiculous incident.  We will see.

What is the point here?  There is none- so if you are hoping for one stop reading now! 

So yesterday I had a totally wild day at work.  Running from here to there, handling this, taking care of that.  Stopping for a minute to try to show my kids I really do love them even if I am acting like the creature from the black lagoon.  The usual.  It was fun- I thrive on stress and drama, so no biggie.

Then, today it hits me.  The fallout from trying to be superwoman in the middle of menstruation (for god's sake!) hits me square in the face, and I fall apart.  I couldn't even make the basic decisions.  Hubby had to order my lunch for me because I couldn't even decide if I want pepperoni or sausage on my damn pizza.  The whole day I had that feeling you get after sex that lasts just a little bit too long.  "Wobbly kneed, who's going to get up and do the clean up and put the sheets back on the bed, and do we really even care?" kind of weak and tired and spent feelings.  Blech!

I'm trapped in this senseless  blog and can't get out.  I have no point and don't know how to end.  There is no moral, just senseless hormonal bitching.  Do with it what you will.  I hope you still love me in the morning.

An Oldie!

I was thinking it would be really fun to revisit some of my old Myspace blogs today.

{Totally weird tangent:  seems like forever ago that myspace was my life-blood while cooped up at home with a toddler and newborn!  Hello???? They are now a first-grader and preschooler??? What???  Who slipped me an Ambien?  I won't even get started on what a trash-pit Myspace is now.}

And here's a really fun one I found that makes me super happy my first-grader and preschooler are just that and no longer toddlers and newborns!  Thought you might enjoy it too!

I only have a second for this- I really should be cleaning the astronomical mess my son just made. I am too furious and dismayed to even begin to tackle it though. And if I don’t have some outlet I may just go into his room where he is now on a permanent time out and find some sort of torturous punishment that may lead him to Cybil type behaviors later on in life.


Monkey and I were just happily folding the 4 loads of clean laundry that have accumulated in the laundry room over the past couple of days and stacking it in neatly sorted piles on the washer/dryer. I welcome his company for this task as he hands me the clothes from the baskets on the floor. It’s great- I don’t have to bend over and it makes it go super-fast as I am in a race with a two year old to keep up with his lightening speed!

Then it strikes... I have to PEE. This is all his fault- he is the child that wrecked my bladder while incubating on top of it. Now at various times of the month there’s no warning signs- just the sudden need to find a bathroom NOW! There’s no waiting, no thinking of what 'Senor Distructicon' may accomplish while I am running across the SMALL house to the nearest bathroom. I act-quickly and without regard as to how many golfers may be seeing me through the window, tripping over my sweats as I drop them along the way. Approximately 2 seconds after I leave the laundry room I hear him scream a scared but not necessarily hurt "moooommmmmm!" Well crap, what has he achieved in the past 5.2 seconds? It can’t be that bad. I finish. Walking briskly back to the laundry room I smell it before I see it. A brand new bottle of Gain Super Ulta Concentrated- guaranteed to get you 174,000 loads from this giant bottle- is dumped all over every article of clothing, the washer/dryer, the floor, the cleaning products, the LIGHT FIXTURE and the boy. The devilish little boy that I KNOW BETTER than to leave unattended in any area of my house- bathrooms and laundry room at the top of the list- has found a way to end my life with laundry detergent. I will never know how he did it. But I want to crawl in a hole due to the amazing amount of work it will take to get my laundry room and clothes back to normal.

One of us might not make it through this day!

Caffeine Free Me

The caffeine free me is not a happy me.  Or nice.  Or even civil for that matter.
But I'm sure she is going to be healthier.

Hubby and I have changed the way we eat and are exercising and are, just in general getting healthy and trying to lose weight.  We are both succeeding marginally.  So, I decided to put us on a "cleanse" and it basically sucks but I'm definitely feeling cleansed.

Anyone that has ever spent a whole day with me knows I have to have a Coke at some point in the day.  If I don't have one by 2:15 on the nose, I get a raging headache that only goes away with large quantities of pop.  Notice I didn't say "Coke".  By the time this headache rolls in I will take any sort of carbonated, caffeinated beverage that I can get my hands on and make it QUICK.

Well, this particular cleanse that we picked doesn't call for Coke. Not once does it tell me to chug any sort of carbonated beverage.  What the hell kind of cleanse is this???  It better be the kind that makes you lose some freaking weight is all I know!  I'm on day three of caffeine free me and I am feeling the pain!  My head feels like it's going to explode from the forehead straight through the middle of my skull and out the back of my neck just where the spinal cord meets that little ball thing.  Oh yes baby, I can feel all of those little parts.  And right about now I don't like one single one of them.

So, I think I'll go chug some vegetable broth and hope to holy god that when I wake up tomorrow morning I can't feel my temporal lobe like it's growing spines and plotting my death.

"Olympic Opening Ceremony" Rambling Review

If you didn't watch the Olympic Opening Ceremonies this will probably be completely uninteresting to you.  Even if you did watch, you probably won't give a hoot.  But I'm watching alone and I need someone to tell my comments to. 

First of all, this wasn't part of the Opening Ceremonies, but it was the opener for the Opening, so I will comment on the 2010 version of "We are the World."  What the HELL???  There were some positives.  I can't remember them for the monstrosity that was the "Hip Hop" verse.  Lil John? (or was it Lil Wayne?  Damn those teeth, I can never tell).  Kanye West?  Really.  Not a good idea... just NOT.  There are no words.

Now to the Opening Ceremonies... (Please note, I am writing this as I watch so you're basically on 'real time'.  And I don't claim to be accurate about many of my "facts" so don't bother in correcting me, I don't really care.)

So far it's just a classy show- not over the top and overdone as some may think the China show was for the summer games- just an intimate celebration of their honor as hosts and their country.  I love the video of the landscape and snowboarder; makes me want to visit Vancouver via Whistler!

The presentation of the Canadian Flag was fun; I love the mounted guard.

"Oh Canada" was beautiful!  That 14 year-old has an amazing voice!

This little song and dance honoring the aboriginal tribes of Canada is ok.  Nothing spectacular, understated and special for the natives, I'm sure.

I'm a little torn about the parade of athletes being at the beginning.  I think it's a great idea, but I'm a little bored.  I usually tune out about this time of the show.  Maybe I'll go grab some ice cream.  Cold weather makes me crave ice cream...
...I love all these great hats!  And turtleneck sweaters.

Oh crap, we're still in the A's of the parade.  If I babble senselessly through the alphabet you won't want to ever read another thing I write. 

Woah baby! Azerbaijan's pants are fantastico!  I just googled to see if I could find a picture to post; and unfortunately, there isn't one posted yet, but Twitter is all a-tweet as people post like crazy.  Some of my favorites were "My eyes, my eyes!" "Must-Have winter wear!" and "Supa-Fresh!".  Oh good times!

Unfortunately for Bermuda, they followed closely behind Azerbaijan so their Bermuda Shorts were an understatement. Maybe if they were paisley they would have grabbed a bit more attention.

Oh man, it's been about 20 minutes since Azerbaijan's pants debuted and I still can't stop laughing about them.  They definitely put themselves on the map tonight!  Russia should ask to borrow their pants.  That would make one hell of an outfit!

I've written about 25 quippy little comments, but chose to delete them because unless you're watching the Olympics, you would have no idea what I'm talking about and I'm pretty sure it would just be annoying.  I made myself laugh a lot, though.  So that's all that matters.

Lindsay Jacobellis (the American Snowboarder) looks like Bimbo Barbie.  Shaun White has better hair than she does.  I know I'm being petty, but I'm getting BORED.

FINALLY, the Canadians are here.  Now sit down so we can watch the show!

Oh Nelly Furtado and Brian Adams... what a fun surprise.  Hmmm... I'm a little cheesed out by the "Village People" aboriginals dancing around and the uber-inspirational song.  Sorry Brian, you'll always be my favorite 80's rocker though. 

LOVE the Northern Lights and Ice/Glacier effects.  Awesome.

The whale/ocean show is spectacular.  It's freaking me out!

Sarah McLachlan rocks!  Her voice is angelic- perfect for this part of the show.  I'm a sucker for good ballet.  This is pretty decent.

I'm not going to lie, I'm old.  It's taking all I've got to hold my eyes open and see the end of this show.  That's pitiful.

Those Canadians, they're just crazy.  Punk-Rock-Devil-Fiddlers and mo-hawk sporting kilt-wearers?  They sure know how to throw a party.  Charlie Daniels would be proud.  Maybe the devil didn't go down to Georgia.  Maybe he went up to Canada?!?

The prairie scene is unreal.  I have never seen anyone fly like this before- or run in place like this for that matter.  That Tomas could teach Tinkerbell a thing or two!

Holy Mother- this show just doesn't end!

Oh I love this mountain/skiing/snowboarding scene.  So cool!

The slam poet is brilliant!  Love him!  Perfect.  

Well, my overall review of the Opener is that even though it went a bit too long, there were some incredible elements and I'm just darn proud of those Canadians! What a wholesome show to be proud of.

I'm excited for the Winter Olympics!

Now off to bed I go!  Finally.

H is for HOME.

Obviously I've been a little busy.  I used to blog every day, maybe twice a day.  Now I'm lucky if I manage once every two months.  I wonder if it will be different once I'm Home again.  Speaking of which, t-minus 22 days and counting till I'm home, glorious home.

I'm really fortunate to have found a close-by neighbor that has two adorable children that I'll be watching.  I also have a friend from work that's expecting and wants me to watch her little girl, which means a newborn at the end of summer.  I'm so excited for all of these kids.  I have read more books on the development of the human brain in the formative years (newborn to 5 years) and I'm just seriously hoping I don't screw up anyone's kid!  : )  OK- not really.  I know I'm good with kids.  Miss Sunshine has taught me so much, the wonder of a child's brain and what little sponges they are.  Monkey has taught me patience I didn't know anyone was capable of, and how to appreciate every tiny way a little boy approaches life, even when it means cleaning detergent off the ceiling of the laundry room.

Every day I spend a little time coming up with things I want to teach Monkey, and hope that the other children that are here will enjoy learning it too.  I never in a million years thought I'd be excited about spending 8 hours a day with kids all around me, but I think I'm going to LOVE it.  If not, there's always wine for dinner. (kidding)

I am going to miss parts of my job at the college.  Even though it is SO challenging now, it has great rewards.  Knowing that some seriously desperate people feel encouraged by little ol' me each day is such a huge reward for the other BS that goes on too.  I hope I'll find a way to stay in touch with the rewarding part of what I've done there.  And thanks to my aforementioned co-worker/friend, I'll be able to hear about the rest of the BS from afar. : )

So, 22 days till life as we know it is no more.  BRING. IT. ON!