First sighting

You know spring is here when you see Minnesotan’s donning sandals, newly painted toes and shorts when walking around the lakes early in the spring morning…and it is only 45 degrees.

We are a hardy bunch or maybe just a bunch that is looking for a touch of Vitamin D from the sun to help stave off rickets from the long hard winter.

The ups and downs

There are just those days.

Those days that everything feels like too much. Like you are treading water and are never going to get ahead. Days where the kids fighting never ends, the screaming doesn’t cease, nothing is right and everyone needs something from you NOW.

Those days, the days I can’t seem to “handle”, don’t come often but when they do I certainly don’t like how I feel or the self pity that comes along with them.

And then…you get an email from a dear old friend telling you of the rapid decline in her lovely father’s health.

And then…you read about the horrible abuse her Uncle’s baby boy has had to live through at the hands of his babysitter.

And then…your friend’s words resonate in your head and you take in the pain and suffering that they are dealing with.

Then…then is when you quickly gain perspective on the day you thought was so bad.

Snip-snip-clip-clip-snap-snap-snap

I love getting my hair cut. Or should I say, I love my uber-gay, cute, young hair stylist. Here are just a few of the things we, or should I say “he” talked about:

Last week he went out to “tie one on” and we were driven home by a man with NO legs. I can’t really remember how the guy actually drove and I don’t remember a wheel chair.

Have you ever taken 800 mg of ibuprofen? It’s so great and if you have it with a few drinks it’s craaaazy.

In response to a man at the bar coming on to him he said, “I didn’t order tea. Please get your bag away from me.

And finally he looked at me and said,

Last night I had a BAD make-out. It was with a close friend and he couldn’t kiss. His tongue kept coming in and out in and out in and out like a little poker…it just isn’t going to work.

Oh John…I love you, but keep your hands off my husband.

What the hell happened to Secret Regular Scent?

There is something seriously wrong here. The Secret people have pulled all the Regular Scent off the shelves.

Oh, that doesn’t sound like a big deal to you? Let me tell you something punk, my sensitive armpits breakout in an itchy fine red rash if I get anywhere near Glacier Mist or Powder Fresh or any scent from the Sparkle Collection (I don’t know what dumb ass thought of having your arm pits sparkle, but that person deserves a kick in the teeth).

Anyway, where the hell is it? I now am relegated to wearing Unscented. Do you know what unscented means to a mother of three whose hormones clearly turned the stink valve “on” when The Menace was born?

This is so uncool, unfair and clearly uncalled for. I can’t be the only woman wearing it?

The curse of the winter white pants

While taking a speed round through Old Navy last week, I found a pair of winter white velveteen pants on sale for $6.97. Of course I had to try them on. Tan or brown would have been preferable, but a sale is a sale.

As I was trying these pants on I thought to myself, there is no way these white pants are going to look good on me. I mean who looks good in white pants? Who buys white pants anyway? Certainly no one in Minnesota with the slush and the snow and the slush and the snow. And, what mother of three would ever think to buy white pants to just throw on, especially a mother that has forgone the hand towel and just uses her pants as a rag instead?

Well, I bought them and they are so comfortable and cute especially for $6.97. The only problem is, every time I wear these pants, I fall down.

NO, I am not kidding.

The first day I was helping a friend of PJ’s into the car and told her to watch the ice, as I rounded the van after putting her securely in her seat I wiped out, wiped out to the point of ripping a gigantic hole in the knee, blood dripping down the knee and dirty patches all over the front and side of the pants. This mishap incurred another trip to the store to buy a new pair of winter white pants that now have cost me a total of $13.94.

The next time I wore the pants, I was walking through the preschool parking lot. An acquaintance of mine yelled hello from the bottom of the stairs and as I was trying to step up onto the curb with KP in my arms, I lost my footing and tripped. The thought went through my head that I may have severely sprained my ankle, seeing it took an entire walk through the school corridor for the sharp pains to subside. But as least I didn’t drop the baby.

Today, I am wearing the pants again. Last night it snowed. I was chasing after KP who was headed down the driveway and toward the street and damn if I didn’t fall on the ice AGAIN.

I am wondering if I should stop wearing these things. These winter white, cute, cheap, and comfortable velveteen pants. Because I fear if I keep wearing them, I may end up on crutches.

Maybe I should give them to Mrs. Bickerson. It is her birthday today. Happy Birthday! Let me know if you want the pants.

Did you get the new Victoria’s Secret catalog yet?

What do you usually do with your copy?
a. order your favorite pair of thong underwear
b. think of how HOT you would look in your winter-white skin in this?
c. hand it over to the male in the house, because it was CLEARLY printed for them

Butter up some cornbread and grab the whiskey

I by no means think of myself as a country music lover. In fact I dislike the thought of myself liking country music at all.

That said, around three months ago Erik brought over Ryan Adams cd, Jacksonville City Nights. It has yet to be taken out of my daily play list, which includes the following: Ryan Adams & the Cardinals, Jacksonville City Nights.

This album, which I think is appropriately categorized as alt-country (but sounds very country), is fabulous. With its amazing imagery and haunting lyrics, I’m not sure I will ever grow tired of it.

So sit back, take a shot and give it a listen.

Vapor

As I sat in a steam room dripping with moist eucalyptus saturated air, I daydreamed I was vacationing on a luscious tropical island and then my mind wandered even farther and I wondered…what would happen if I peed in here?

Finnish or Finish

Yes, I am happy to dub myself the world’s worst speller (WWS). There should be laws against people like me writing things on the internet, because typically there is some sort of error in just about everything I write.

Oh what? That’s what makes it so cute and compelling to read? Thank you. Yes, I need that kind of reinforcement, especially when our spell check isn’t working on our email.

Do you realize how naked I feel with no spell check? At least it can hide a few flaws. But, for the past week, I was being hung out to dry. When I told Adam I knew there was something wrong because it wasn’t even picking up the word “happy” correctly, he looked at me and said, “Well, how do you spell happy?”

After we discussed that I really did know how to spell the word happy and that I could also spell the word asshole, I am HAPPY to announce that we solved the problem. The computer was checking everything in FINNISH.

How cruel is that to do to a poor speller?

Just keep that one on the list of things to do to your poor speller on April fools!

Change is a coming

I’m feeling the need to change this site.

I’m feeling stuck in pink and green.

I want more out of it.

Hmmm, I suddenly wish I had taken some programming and graphics courses in college.

Even if I did, the question is…would I remember how to do it?