Mom...Don't Lie To Me

First, let me preface this little story with a quote from Sophocles...

Truly, to tell lies is not honorable;but when the truth entails tremendous ruin,To speak dishonorably is pardonable.

My girls are 8 and 6 and I have come to the realization that this will probably be the last year that they believe in Santa Claus. I hate this.

As they have gotten older, I see little disappointments start to mold them into what will eventually become the adult form of my children. The first time someone yelled at them. The first time they experienced a death in the family. The first bully problem at school. The list is getting longer and longer.

All of this inexorably leads to "growing up" which seems to be directly correlated to "getting used to pain and disappointment". This does not at all seem right to me.

This weekend, Sophie (6) looked directly into my eyes and said, "Mommy, don't lie to me. Do you buy the presents that come from Santa?" Maya's ears perked up and all of a sudden I am faced by these beautiful, innocent, upturned faces begging to be told the truth.

And what did I do when faced with this opportunity? What did I do when I have always prided myself in being the sort of parent who is totally upfront and honest with her children? ( Example: Honey, it's not a hoo-hoo, it's called a vagina.)

I lied.

I looked them dead in the eye and said, "Of course not! You both know that I would never be able to afford to do that! Santa comes to those who believe in him. You had better be careful what you say!"

I know that they have to know. That I eventually have to fess up. But not this Christmas. Not when we're so close.

There would be no Santa cookies. No milk. No blue mush (I'll explain that one later, in a future blog). No reindeer tracks meticulously drawn in powdered sugar on the front steps.

No magic.

I'm just not ready for that quite yet.

Okay...Here's What We Are Going To Do...

I have read a few posts of late that lament the holidays happening when there is just no money. I understand this well my friends. I have definitely had worse years than this, and my stress level is quite low comparatively. I am very thankful for that.

But I learned many things in those lean years.

Like how the dollar store stuffs a stocking like nobody's business.....
Like how everyone else buys toys for your kids and if you get one or two things they don't notice who got them what......
Like the joy of the holidays NEEDS to overwhelm the greed....
Like if you have your kids (or yourself) make blankets or dolls or box up used toys and clothes and then have them take them to the shelter for battered women and their families it really opens their eyes to what is really going on in the world...

But, let's face it. Presents are exciting and fun. They are mysteries wrapped in sparkly paper with crinkly bows! They are joy.

So, I want each and every one of you to make a wish list - with pictures and links and whatever - and send it to me. (My email is in my profile page as "email". Brilliant.)

That's right. I am "buying" every damn one of my imaginary internet friends an imaginary internet gift this year! (Even if you have never, ever commented before.)


Ho! Ho! Ho!

Morning Announcements - 11/29/05

• 12 days left until "Mamma Mia"
• Quirk o' the Day - I always type "k" when I want to type "d" and visa versa.

Blown Away

It is really gusty and stormy right now (maybe some snow tomorrow!). I was just outside watching birds flying in the wind.

They looked like they were having a blast.

Morning Announcements - 11/28/05

• 13 days left until "Mamma Mia".
• Quirk of the Day - I want to pull my ears off whenever I hear anyone besides Bing Crosby or Johnny Mathis sing "White Christmas".
• Explanation of the Day - (quoted from my sister Shannon when asked about why the car is named "The Minty Squirrel".)

*sigh* I only wish that the Minty Squirrel name hailed from the story that makes sense to tell. Even as I look back on the story I find it strangely not-funny. This is truly one of those "you had to be there at the time" stories which also mixed with the chemistry of the personalities at the time -- Erik, Jami (at her most hysterical and bossy), Trina,Trina's cat-chasing dog, Cisco, Crookshanks, James (from XIP) and myself. (and... of course some mint and a squirrel) If I could tell you, I would. But you'd probably just fall asleep. Feel free to make something up!

So! There you go! Mystery solved! :)

The Story of Mindy/Ratty Catty/Bunny

The above mentioned names are actually the name of one cat. And yes, it is the cat that I mentioned in the squirrel post. The one who was frozen solid in a pan of milk.

So here is how that all went down....

On our ranch, when I was young, we had a few milk cows that were milked every morning and evening in our barn. I remember them well, one was red and short and one was huge and black and white (a Jersey and a Holstein I believe, for all you cow breed buffs). They were nice and all, but there were two things that were extremely cool in my pre-school mind. The milking stool and the barn cats.

The milking stool was this hand-made, rough-hewn stool that was crafted out of a log and a plank. It was heavy and old looking. It fascinated me. You sat on the plank (of course) but you balanced on the one log. There were no legs, per se, just one big log that was a bit rounded on the bottom. I think it was especially nice for milking because you could tip forward and nearer to the cow. Mobility is especially important in cow milking (I guess).

The barn cats were my absolute favorite. I loved them. There was Mamma Kitty and Gray One (and if you haven't read my post about him - you must do it). Mamma Kitty was always having kittens. Outdoor cats don't have a huge life expectancy, but she kept us supplied with great mousers for a very long time.

This particular day, she had a litter that was up and running around. Not tiny, but not ready to be out on their own either. She would bring them down for milk every time we milked the cows. We had a pan that was about 10 inches across and a few inches deep that we would pour milk into for them. It was warm and steamed in the below 0 degree air. When we left that night the kittens were happily lapping up the warm milk, filling their tummies for the night.

In the morning, it wasn't such a pleasant picture.

One of the smaller kittens had obviously fell into the milk during the pushing and shoving the evening before. It was so cold outside that the milk froze quickly, obviously freezing the kitten along with it. It was terrible. We chipped the kitten out (I think it was my Dad, sister and I) and cried and cried (just my sister and I, not my Dad). He agreed to take it up to Mom (I'm sure it was just to appease us) to see if she could "save" it. I think he was hoping that the act of trying would be enough to mend our broken little hearts a little bit.

My Mom grabbed the kitten, tapped on it's frozen eyeball with her finger, and grimly said that there was little she could do. But, she wrapped it's stiff little body in a towel and placed it in front of the fireplace. I am unsure whether this was done in an attempt to really save the kitten, or in an attempt to make us feel better. The kitten would be more comfortable in heaven if it wasn't a frozen block of kittenish cuteness, right?

Hours later, when Mom went to bundle up the kitten and begin funeral proceedings, she was amazed to find that it had enough life left in it to kick itself off the ledge of the fireplace and onto the floor.

It was alive.

It was now our indoor cat.

I named it Mindy - after Mork and Mindy (Hi Squishi!). The name was a terrible one, and she eventually became Ratty Catty (from my Dad) and ended up being Bunny (not sure why). She was an odd cat. She started out short haired, and when she was a few years old morphed into being long haired. Her litters of kittens were patterned like a SAT question. One kitten, then three kittens, one kitten, then four kittens, one kitten....I think it stopped there. And she would lay in front of the fireplace staring and purring at her own personal God for hours.

I guess her quirks were understandable after all she went through.

And the best part? Her almost amazingly short life span was increased by more than just a little bit. Bunny lived to be in her twenties. I'm not exactly sure the exact years, but she was born in 1976-77 and died around 2000.

Cool, huh? (No pun intended)

Morning Announcements - 11/25/05

• 16 days left until "Mamma Mia"
• Quirk of the day - My pinkie toes kind of curl under.

A funny thing that I can't really make into an entire post...

My Mom, my kids and I went out to dinner at a swanky restaurant on Tuesday. Maya (in an incredibly loud voice) announced, "If anyone needs an extra fork, I've got two!"

And...

I apoligize for any pop-ups. I had no idea it was happening until Squishi told me. I hate to annoy any of my faithful readers, so I am removing what I hope to be the culprit. (the Google ad thing) Let me know if it works.

Squirrels Figure Prominently In My Life

I am not exactly sure why, but this is an inarguable fact.

Squirrels and I are mysteriously and inevitably linked forever. What follows are examples of my life and the life of squirrels intersecting.

Example #1

My mother could save animals. She may possibly be considered for sainthood. Someday there will be a large marble statue of my Mom surrounded by animals - a bird balancing on her outstretched finger, a dog lovingly nuzzling her hand, a cat and a bunny curled up at her feet, fawns prancing around her, AND a squirrel sitting on her right shoulder.

These are not just randomly chosen images. My Mom saved numerous birds, quite a few dogs (Goose, Rags, Putsy to name a few), a cat that had been frozen solid in a pan of milk I KID YOU NOT, a rabbit that was so young it didn't even have fur yet (and was found floating down a ditch - we named him Moses), and yes.....a squirrel. Eventually named Speedy.

Now, the Speedy rescue was not quite as dramatic as the frozen cat or the floating bunny, but it was to be a defining moment in my childhood.

Our family was at a campground up in the mountains around the Fourth of July one summer. I was pretty young, so much is fuzzy, but it has been recounted as family lore so many times it seems like just yesterday. There was a moment that my brother began yelling (I think with fear, but this is one of the fuzzy parts). We all rushed to him and discovered that he had a very, very friendly squirrel sitting on his shoulder. Now, I don't know how much camping or outside activities any off you do, but squirrels don't usually just jump on a person and refuse to get down. This squirrel was so insistent that my Mom (softie) eventually agreed to take him home with us.

My Mother was a nurse her entire life and has this way of taking care of things that is no-nonsense and insanely compassionate. She is the most amazing person I have ever seen when dealing with any animal, hurt or otherwise.

When we got home, she immediately went about making the little guy comfortable. The only reason she agreed to bring him home in the first place was he was so friendly that she was afraid he would "fall into the wrong hands" and possibly be abused. There is nothing worse than an abused squirrel. (or so I am told)

His new home became a bird cage that sat on the floor. It's door was always open and he had the run of the house. He would beg food from people and tuck it into the curtain pleats, the potted plants, everywhere. He would beg for attention and crawl up your pantleg and sit on you shoulder. He would jump into the bubbles while you were doing dishes, then run up your arm to dry himself off with your hair - the while chattering very loudly in squirrel language. At night he would sleep in his birdcage and actually pull his "blanket" (a washcloth) up over him to keep warm. He was adorable. Here is a very good representation of what Speedy looked like...

Then, something changed. It was a few years later when Speedy began showing signs of aggression.

It began innocently enough with a nibble on a finger here and there. Then the nibbles became full on bites. When he had us scared enough, we were eventually running and screaming down the hallway to our bedrooms with a evil and bad-mannered squirrel on our tail. Yeah. This may seem funny now. But holy shit it was scary! Ever been bitten by a squirrel? It hurts! Plus, he was speedy (just like his name) and that kind of speed is also frightening. This is what Speedy looked like during this stage of his life....

So our household was reduced to crying, running, squirrel-phobic children.

Not pretty.

Eventually, Speedy was given to a family friend who lived far up in the deserted hills. She acclimated him to being an "outside squirrel" by leaving his open birdcage on the front porch. He would go out exploring during the day and come home at night, eventually leaving for longer and longer periods of time until (we hope) he felt successful in the wild and decided to stay out there. Possibly with a new squirrel family? Who knows.

Example #2

My daughter learned how to walk by getting really excited about the squirrels outside of the sliding glass door and trying to get to them.

Example #3

My car is named the Minty Squirrel.

Don't you think there are too many squirrel related items on my personal timeline?

Morning Announcements - 11/23/05

• 18 days left until "Mamma Mia"
• Quirk o' the Day - Sometimes when I eat potato chips it feels like they get lodged in my inner ear. (?)

Searches

1. Vomiting, etc... - 7
2. Pictures of People Vomiting - 1
3. Dog Swallowed a Toothpick - 2 (!)
4. Dog Swallowed a Bone Whole - 1
5. Dog Swallowed a Screw - 1

Since when did I ever post about a dog swallowing anything?

Oh, I feel a real post coming on. I feel it. I do.

Morning Announcements - 11/21/05

• 20 days left until Mamma Mia!
• Quirk O' the Day - As a child I would peel bark off willow trees and chew on the white wood underneath because it tasted like cucumbers.

Searches

1. How to Induce Vomiting (and Variations) - 18!
2. Dog Swallowed Bone Whole - 1
3. Dog Swallowed a Screw - 1
4. Continental Drift - 1
5. Louis Lamour - 1

Who knew?

Oh, and by the way, I don't intend for my morning announcements to take over as my daily blogging entries, but I am to damn busy actually doing my job than to blog. Sorry! Just think how I feel!

Morning Announcements 11/18

1. 23 days left until "Mamma Mia".
2. Quirk o' the Day - I like to dip toast in hot chocolate.
3. Searches

• "induce vomiting" - 4
• "swallowed glass help" - 1
• "toenail collections" - 1 (this is becoming disturbingly popular)

And bonus picture of the day (of my department's off-site meeting and bowl-a-rama). Can you guess which one is me?

Things I Have Done Today To Improve My Mood

1. Wore jeans that are too big and told everyone, (while hitching up my pants) that I think I have lost weight.
2. Announced that I do not have cellulite - it is just hail damage and I am awaiting the insurance adjuster. (People who know me understand that I do this at regular intervals and in many social situations - just so people are informed.)

Something that I haven't done, but am seriously considering...

• Picking out the snooty and vain co-worker and telling them they have something in their teeth. Then have them pick at various tooth crevices for a few minutes. Then finally announcing, "Okay! You got it!" *evil chuckle*

Morning Announcements- Beta Version

Remember in elementary school when there were morning announcements read every day over the loud speaker? Well, if you don't - then just imagine it.

I have decided to do a morning announcement every day - the reasons for this are as follows:

1. Everyone needs to know how many days until "Mamma Mia". I know you are waiting with bated breath, as I am.
2. Anika tagged me and I am supposed to list my quirks. This has become an insurmountable task for one post, so I shall list one in each morning announcement until I run out. I have a feeling this may go on for a while...
3. I tend to think in fragments and it will be a good genre for that.
4. I will list the number of people from the previous day that found my site by searching "induce vomiting" or something similar. I may also list any really odd searches that end up here. All in the interest of science.

So here we go......

1. 24 days left until "Mamma Mia"

2. Quirk o' the Day - I love pigeons and get really sad when people are mean to them.

3. Searches for "induce vomiting" from 11/16/05 - 5

Searches for "toenail collections" from 11/16/05 - 1

Take A Chance On Me

O........M.........G

I just scored tickets (at a gotta-sell-them-so-I'm-not-stuck-with-them price, no less) to Mamma Mia! It's the musical based on ABBA!!!!!!!

Who is the luckiest girl in the world?

:)

I called my friend Megan and said, "Do you hate ABBA or do you secretly love ABBA?"

Well, she hates ABBA (especially the Fernando song) but she agreed to go with me anyway. I think her hate will only make the outing more interesting.

Official countdown to the ABBA Musical Extravaganza (December 10th):

25 days!!!

(I never know whether to count "today" as a day....)

Car Wash

Inspired by a post about a carwash from Jerk's blog, I give you my car wash story....

Apparently, when I was but a very young girl, my sister, Mom and I got stuck in a car wash. Not only were we trapped, but we were trapped during a perpetual hot wax cycle.

Somehow the apparatus got stuck. And, I believe it was an unattended car wash. Which left us sitting in an increasingly humid and sticky environment for a very, very long time.

I remember only fragments of this. I remember the smell of the hot wax and the feeling of discomfort. But really nothing else. It is all stored somewhere deep, deep in my subconscious mind. I am sure of this because the panic was revisited years later- in another car wash - over 700 miles away....

I was working at a finance company and driving a long commute every day. Since it rains copiously here, a car can get quite grimy very quickly. So, one day at lunch I thought that I would run it through the car wash to take advantage of the sunny day and the possibility of the car staying clean for an entire 24 hours.

It was not a "brushless" carwash. It was the old school kind with a huge rotating brush thing that went up and over your car, keeping time with corresponding spinning brushes on each side. The top scrubber had very long, soft cloth pieces that whirled with amazing speed, slapping the car with soap and/or wax at appropriate intervals. I was not worried that the finish of my car would be ruined by these brushes because, well, it was a 1992 Ford Escort hatchback.... and that's all I have to say about that.

Everything was progressing as expected until I heard something....catch. It is hard to describe..but for a split second the motor of the overhead rotating brush seemed strained. Then, I shudder to even think of it now, the car seemed to jump a little bit, and then the entire apparatus smashed into the roof of my car with a huge thud. Huge!

The engine of the brush started to whine at a higher and higher pitch and the roof of the car actually started to cave in above my head. It wasn't bending the frame yet, but I seemed as it it would.

When I get really scared I turn into a girl. It's embarrassing to tell it, but I started screaming and kind of bouncing in my seat with my hands fluttering in front of my face. What the hell kind of reaction is that? Definitely not something that will save me in a life threatening situation, if you know what I mean.

Eventually, I came to my senses enough to make the decision that I should start the car, put it in gear and try to drive my sorry ass out of there as quickly as possible. As the clutch released and the car was trying to free itself from under the scrub brush of death, the obvious offender was discovered. The antennae, which had been sticking out of the roof by only about 1 inch had been caught in the brush bristle things, it pulled out of it's sheath and released the brush from it's position on the roof of my car.

It was a great moment, that feeling of freedom from compaction. But then the scrub brush started to spin again. Thwacking my car at regular intervals with the now freed - and incredibly long - antennae. (Do you have any idea how long car antennas are?)

Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack.

When I pulled free from the car wash I was shaking like a leaf. I jumped out of the car and watched my antennae continue to spin on the brush until the cycle completed. My car, down the entire length on the right hand side, had long scratches from the repeated thwacking. I popped the roof dents out relatively easily from the inside, and shakily went back to work. Never to tell anyone this story, until now.

(I personally think the girlish panic mode I went into was in direct correlation to the car wash incident of my youth. I cannot be blamed for my reaction. It was post traumatic stress disorder.)

If Beggars Were Wishes, Horses Would Ride

Oh...how I love the mixed metaphor. The spelling and grammatical error.

It's not as if I don't do it myself, so there shall be no pointing out any of my errors!

I work at a place where I can order our merchandise and either have it sent to me through "inter-office mail" or just have them leave it the office where I used to work - since that is close to my house....

Anyway.... I had emailed a request that my recent purchase be left at the front desk at my old office. This is the response that I got back....


Hi Shari,

Thank you for your recent order.

Unfortunately, the interoffice mail that came today did not include the check that you sent and we cannot let unpaid packages leave the Employee Store.

I apologize for the incontinence,

It took reading it two times before I noticed it. He damn well better be sorry!

Cold is Relative

Or would that be "A Cold Relative".

My sister works in Antartica. She emailed me this beautiful picture. I don't know if she took it, but for intellectual property purposes, I will cite her as the owner of the image below.



It is worth clicking on the photo to enlarge it. Beautiful, but I would hate, hate, hate it. The sound of snow crunching under boots reminds me of the sound of ice cubes coming out of the tray. My teeth hurt for some reason when I even think of that sound.

Here are some excerpts from her email to me..... she is so damn funny.....

1. There’s a liquor shortage. God forbid. It is cause for great malcontent amongst the McMurdo population. The bars here remain well-stocked, but for those who wish to enjoy a quiet drink in the privacy of their room, a new procedure is in place. Liquor sales avail themselves to the general populace twice weekly. This results in extremely long lines. People actually camp out, sleeping on blankets & chairs in front of the store. It’s rather reminiscent of when Rolling Stones concert tickets go on sale, but sadder.
The most positive aspect of this entire shortage is that it sparks creativity. With RazzMaTazz Raspberry Schnapps being the only alcoholic beverage in endless supply, you have to dig deep. My night shift cronies have created a signature night shift drink. We call it the Raspberry Sleeper Hold: RazzMaTazz & Nyquil. (Truthfully, we just talk about it. No one has been desperate enough to try it yet, but I’ll keep you posted.)

and.....

3. The most reviled meal of last season, Blazin’ Redfish (a spicy deep-fried fish filet), is back again. Frankly, I thought we’d have eaten our way through the supply last season! It appears that Blazin’ Redfish and RazzMaTazz know no limits. Maybe we can create a liquid meal supplement using the two?

So, dearest sister Shannon, I miss you. Keep warm and dream of large women.... No! That's another "Princess Bride" quote....

Keep warm and dream of sunshine and inner tubes.

I love you.

What We Did This Weekend- Blogger Reunion

So, the day finally came. I got to meet Anika, Janie and Jacob!

I know that one is not supposed to meet people that one finds on the internet because they might be axe murderers or something. But, when I made my concerns known to Anika she assured me that she never, ever killed anyone with a chainsaw.

She prefers poison.

So, I deemed it safe. Although I did keep an eagle eye on any foodstuffs that were in her general vicinity....

Remember when I took the girls to Seattle and we ate at the place with wooden mallets for utensils? Remember when Anika commented that she wanted to eat there? Well, check this out why don't ya-

Once again, Sophie is behaving well at the table.

How adorable is Jacob? Although you may not be convinced from the picture, I think he had a good time....

Yeah! The carousel! The carousel!

The driftwood Orca sculpture and extremely shiny **bling, bling** jackets.

Look at Maya (green jacket). I had no idea Sophie came so close to being devoured by her obviously evil sister.

Oh, and not only is Anika great. And her son. But Janie is an absolute cut-up, too. We laughed and laughed - especially loudly at lunch. Because we could. And we had to make up for the "rude to the waitress for no apparent reason" table anyway.

You guys, I had a blast!!

Remember That Time When.....

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, even if we don't speak often, please post a comment with a memory of you and me. It can be anything you want, either good or bad. When you're finished, post this little paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people remember about you.


The best thing about this is many of you have never met me at all. So, make something up!!

Anika, I know that you hate the movie "The Princess Bride" but I love it. I love, love, love it. And look....




Which Princess Bride Character are You?
this quiz was made by mysti

My favorite character! (I just knew I couldn't be Princess Buttercup....)

I'm Sure Glad It's Not Naked Day....

That's what Sophie said when we stepped outside of the restaurant and into 36 degree weather last night.

I was glad too.

And Today I Feel.....

Do you know that old 70's song, "Rollercoaster (of love)"?

Rollercoaster...of love
Rollercoaster...ah, ooo, ooo, ooo.

I think that's about it for the lyrics.

Anyway, it's kind of fitting, because today I am fine. No confusion. No overthinking. No weird bi-polar love moments at all.

ah, ooo, ooo, ooo.

Stuck

co-nun-drum n. 1. A riddle in which a a fanciful quesiton is answered by a pun. 2. a. A problem admitting of no satisfactory solution. b. A difficult and complicated problem.

I am at a 2.a. or b. in my life.

Voldemort (he-who-must-not-be-named) is my conundrum. He has snuck in under my "I don't need or want a man" radar. He is charming, he is sweet, my girls adore him. It was NOT supposed to happen this way.

He is quite apparent in his interest in me - to a point. I feel now as if it is my turn to give some sort of signal. A hint. Anything.

But I can't. Oh, I want to. But I can't.

And here is why.

I have to wonder if the point that he won't seem to cross is there for a specific reason. That reason being that I am overweight, and although he acts very interested and attentive, he just can't bear to take it any further.

I have gone through the thought processes of....

"The more weight I lose, the more chance I have that his interest will be taken to the next level."

But then there is....

"If I am not acceptable to him now, then just *&ck him! I am good enough just the way I am."

And then....

"When I lose the weight, what if he does go to the next level then? That is the worst. I will hate him for it. And maybe, it will have been timing and not my weight at all, and I could just totally screw up a good thing by totally overthinking...."

And even more...

"What if no one else shows any interest until I lose weight, then I will have to hate all of them and wonder where the hell they were when I was fat. I wish, if my destiny is to find someone, that I would do it when I was fat and then lose weight so I would know that they loved ME first. You know?"


I have been both fat and in seriously great shape in my life. At one time I would ride my bike 20-40 miles, run a mile or two and do some weight training every day. EVERY DAY! I would cry if I didn't do it.

I know both sides. I know how I was treated then and how I am treated now. I have been through both and I know the shallowness of not only men, but of people in general. I don't trust anyone that is not here with me now. Wholeheartedly loving me just because of me. I am funny, trustworthy, a great Mom and the most fantastic friend you have ever had.

I feel as if, because of this knowledge, I have doomed myself to a life of cynicism - being as critical of others as they have been to me.

How the hell do I get out of this one?

I'm Feeling Devilish Today

Thanks to Squishi, whose posting of really bad album covers inspired this post.

Okay, It's on the Market

The Insta-Man 5000!

Get yours today!

For all those times you just would rather scream "EEEK" and stand on a chair.

Call 1-800-smooshit and get your Insta-man on it's way.

*For a limited time, Insta-Man 5000 comes equipped with bug killing club.

If Only It Was That Easy

I had a moment of weakness last night.

You know how I said I am over the lonely thing? Well, I am....mostly. But then certain things happen, and you realize how handy and nice and sweet it is to have someone with testes living under your roof.

There was a yucky bug in my kitchen last night.

Yep. Really yucky. And relatively fast. The worst kind.

You can't just ignore them. Although that was my first instinct. "If I don't look at it, it was never there." But, it was there. And there is no telling where it would end up. So....I got my shoe and smooshed it.

It crunched a little.

And stuck to the floor instead of my shoe.

Which means I had to pick it up with a paper towel to dispose of it.

Which caused me to gag and almost throw up.

And I did all this while helping my daughter with her math homework and trying to keep the whole "there-is-a-huge-crunchy-bug-in-our-house-that-is-now-stuck-to-the-floor" thing under wraps so as not to freak out aforementioned daughter.

Multitask, anyone?

I did it. But I did not like it.

I need an "Insta-Man" or something.

Insta-man!

Just add water! Goes from a packet of powder to bug killing hunk of manly goodness in less than 3 seconds!

Guaranteed to turn back to powder after the job is done and before he eats all the food in the fridge!

On Sale Now!

Grrrrrr....

I have been trying to post some Halloween night sketches and blogger won't let me. I hate that.

Not Playing Fair

Okay, so I am all weepy today - as referenced in the last post. And my best friend in the world (who took the pictures of the girls and went with on the trick or treat cavort-fest last night with me) wrote this in the email that she sent along with the pictures. It has made me even more leaky in the eye area. (She is great because she offered to take pictures for me because of the evil camera stealing bastard.....and many other reasons.)

Anyway....this is what she wrote....


OK… Here they are.
I hope I did this right.

Last night was exhausting, but lovely. I feel as though I have much to learn from you. You are a wonderful mother.
Talk to you soon.
xxm

This comes from the woman who I wanted to be friends with long before I ever met her because I loved watching her with her kids at the school playground.

A compliment like this from her is like Einstein telling you that you are smart.

Thanks.

I Am Over-Stimulated

When I was growing up I would get REALLY excited for holidays. I was the youngest in my family and I think also the most outwardly emotional.

After watching me bounce through the house for hours on end before a big event, my Mom would eventually ask, "Shari, are you excited?" This would immediately cause me to break into an uncontrollable sobbing binge lasting for extended periods of time.

I don't know why.

I know that I felt embarrassed that it was so obvious. It was not necessarily that excitement was frowned upon in our household. Somehow I had singlehandedly decided that it was something to be ashamed of.

I have not outgrown this holiday excitement thing. I was so excited yesterday. The girls and I dressed up as vampires and hit the town. We started at 5 pm and were out until almost 10 pm. It was raining. It was cold.

It was fun.

And today? Today I am all weepy. I don't get this way often. I think the excitement has gotten to me. I even felt embarrassed when I was giving my co-workers the account of last night.

It's just that I get this look from people. Like it shouldn't be that fun. Like I should be like other parents that really hate all this stuff.

So, if you see me crying today, just know it's because I'm still excited. And I'm okay with that.

****ahem**** I'm not trying to brag or anything.....but I made those costumes.

And credit for the pictures to the coolest parents ever in the entire world - Sean and Megan (who begat the great and wonderful Piper, North and Abbie.) You guys are the greatest family in the history of mankind.