Memes, and books and Starbucks, oh my!

I saw this meme over at The Miss Elaine-Ous Life and I had to play along (books and a Starbucks card? How could I not?).

Here are the rules:

* Pick up the nearest book of at least 123 pages.
* Open the book to page 123.
* Find the 5th sentence.
* Post the next 3 sentences.
* Tag 5 people.

Here's mine.

Best Friends by Martha Moody page 123:

"Ben blinked. He still looked very young. Although he was almost eighteen, his beard wasn't fully formed, and I often wondered if he really had to shave. "That I am."

Meh. Not horribly interesting. Sorry about that. It's actually an unusual story. I think it's okay. I'm a little startled that my mother sent it to me. #1. She doesn't read. #2. The story features all sorts of debauchery of which my mother wouldn't approve. I assumed she sent it to me because there were a few brief references to breastfeeding, but when I asked her, she said she sent it because one of the characters comes to embrace her Jewish heritage.

This review I found at Amazon seems to explain it better than others (including the summary on the back of the book):

From Library Journal
Moody's first novel examines the dynamics of friendship between two very different women, Clare Ann Mann, a small-town Ohio girl, and Sally Rose, who hails from Los Angeles. Meeting as college roommates, the girls are surprised to learn that, paradoxically, Clare Ann is the worldlier of the two. Despite their many differences, the two form a bond that will last a lifetime or at least until the end of the book. Pared to one-third its length, this might have been a valid study of friendship. However, the drama disaster, disappointment, revealed lies, childbirth, drug abuse, AIDS, and so on continues ad infinitum and strains credibility. Expecting some form of closure at the end, the reader is left wondering where the next page is. It is as if Moody simply did not know how to escape the web. Having been a finalist for a Best American Short Stories anthology, Moody might find more success in that more succinct genre. Patricia Gulian, South Portland, ME
Copyright 2001 Reed Business Information, Inc

Now I'm supposed to tag 5 people. Hmmmm... Let's see: I'm tagging my sister (via e-mail), Giselle, Robin, Leah, and Phyllis (whenever she gets back from Israel).

This could apply to oh so many situations.

"Have you tried screaming in agony?"

That will be my new catch phrase.

This is why I believe in early potty training

So I don't have to endure this shit (no pun intended).



All my kids trained when they were too young to understand any of this. Although, I'm an adult and it baffles me.

I must admit that we did lose whatever scrap of dignity we had left during potty training. I can STILL recite the damn Potty Book For Girls from memory.

"Hello my name is Hannah. I have lots of fun each day, but first I need my diaper changed so I can go and play...."

I can recite nearly the entire book. And no, TheBoy did NOT get the boy's version of the same book. He had to deal with his sisters' girl's copy. We did, however, introduce him to the concept with a plastic boy doll, but that's only because we had to toss the doll his sisters used because they shoved food down it's mouth which I couldn't extract. I'm not leaving that thing lying around to attract bugs.

Once again, I extend my deepest thanks to my children for figuring out the whole potty training thing before we could get into any of this scary stuff.

Oh and am I the only one who thinks the kid in the end is going to sue his parents when he grows up over the fact that he will forever be known as the pooping kid?

Video found at Fist of Blog

Target: My husband does not see the humor

Am I alone here? I find this hysterical. I just keep cracking up. I told dh about it and he shrugged. After coming back to look at it again, I'm giggling yet again. I can't be the only one.

This guinea pig is a super hero to many men.

This cracked me up. I just had to share with my fine readers.

Guinea Pig Harem


When he read the story, dh asked, "Why did they have 24 females? Do they breed them?" I responded, "If they didn't before, they do now."

A recall and a WTF

Hobby Lobby Stores Recalls Easter Egg Containers and Spinning Egg Tops Due to Violation of Lead Paint Standard

Um...this baffles me . Follow along:

#1. It's just wrong to use camouflage eggs for an egg hunt.

#2. Nothing celebrates the resurrection of your deity quite like eggs decorated in a manner that resembles clothing worn for killing.

Make the tooth fairy's job easier

Tooth Fairy box from Capture the Moment

I just love that it's so simple, it involves recycling, it makes our job easier (while we use a pillow hanging on the door, those who have to reach under pillows will find it much easier to feel around for a box rather than a tiny tooth), her example is specifically for a boy thereby avoiding all the foofiness that most tooth fairy things cling to with glee and it's just plain old cute.

Your own personal Torah.

I know this is oh so wrong, but after reading Ima Bima's latest post, I can't stop singing Depeche Mode's Personal Jesus, only I substitute the word "Torah" for "Jesus."

I'm having a wee bit of trouble wrapping my head around the concept of Torah as our own personal truths. I accept Torah as the story of my people. For Pesach (Passover), we never refer to Moses taking, "Them," out of Egypt. He always leads, "Us." That way, it remains a part of us, not just some story from long ago.

I just have a difficult time thinking of the story of my mundane life as a part of Torah/torah. I'm not quite sure how I feel about the concept.

I'll save grappling with that intellectual dilemma for another day. While I'm not sure if this is what she had in mind, I'll share what keeps popping into my head for this.

I wish I had been a rabbi's child.

For our Purim play, the megillah will be chanted by several different people. One of them is the rabbi's oldest daughter who is just a kid.

We have to keep stopping them to ask where they are to see if our play matches up. None of us can understand Hebrew well enough to follow along. We're practicing Jews. That's insane.

I never had a real Jewish education. I found my way to more traditional Judaism when I was 21 and I've been learning ever since. While dh did have a Jewish education , the epitome of his Hebrew learning was at his bar mitzvah wherein he read (not chanted) his Torah portion only after MUCH tutoring and then promptly forgot everything he ever knew about the language. I have a strong desire to learn more, but it's so daunting.

I want my children to have a better grasp of Hebrew than we do. So far, so good. But there's only so much we can do for them. They're at a disadvantage because we are. I want more for them, but I don't know how to do that since we don't have that foundation ourselves.

If only I had been a rabbi's child. The rabbi's son was in my daughters' pre-k class at sunday school and he could identify gimmel when they were 3 years old. My kids knew the English alphabet forwards and backwards, but the Aleph-bet was completely unrecognizable to them (and largely to us as well). The rabbi's oldest daughter is chanting Torah with the adults. I long for that comfortable familiarity. I long for that effortless mastery. I long to be able to pass that along to our children.

I'm asking a favor of my fellow bloggers.

Dear all you wonderful blogging folks,

Please, PLEASE don't post anything for the next day or two. The first half of this week is very busy for us. Please just take a break. That way, there's a slim chance I'll be able to catch up before summer.

I feel lonely when my Google Reader is empty, but damn it, I can never keep up with you people if I'm going to be away from the computer for a few days.

So grab yourself a cup of coffee or wine (or water for all you pregnant folks--and there are an awful lot of you), put your feet up and just take a break for a few days.

Please. Pretty please?

More cute conversations with the wee ones.

I realize I'm probably the only one who finds this interesting. I'm terribly sorry for inflicting this upon you. Obviously, though, not sorry enough to stop.

Last night, TheBoy had a nightmare. Dh and I had already gone to bed, so I figured I'd bring the baby to bed with us. Problem was neither TheBoy nor I could sleep (dh was out like a light). So I put him back in his bed. He tried to stall. As soon as I did, he plead, "Go potty." So I sat him down and he went. Then he said, "Tee-ma." To which I replied, "We already said the Sh'ma when you went to bed the first time." Then he just asked, "Mama," in a sad and oh so tired tone. I said good night, kissed him and left. He called me softly one last time after I closed the door. When I didn't reply, he said, "Oh man." He fell right to sleep after that. I, however, kept giggling.

I'm in the Purim play at shul (I'm Zeresh. I wanted Vashti, but I got sucked in at the last minute, so I had to take what was left). I brought the big kids with me to rehearsal today. Girl1 got to fill in and be one of the king's options for a new queen. The women walk up individually and then "prance" before the king. Girl1 got up there, skipped across the stage, jumped to her spot in front of the king and flashed him and the audience a big smile. It was so cute. I was so proud. She had such a good time. She looked so comfortable up there.

So this evening, dh and I were discussing it while Girl1 sat on my lap. I said, "Maybe we should get her more involved with drama." Then Girl1 added, "dary." It took me a second, but I caught on and then we both laughed. That kid is GOOD.

Baby gives "the evil look" and I crack the hell up while watching it.

http://view.break.com/422660 - Watch more free videos

What the heck is Bah-Bux and other mysteries revealed

Here's the story behind the mysterious Bah-Bux. FTR, I had TheBoy say it for my sister today and her guess was "Mailbox."

Yesterday, I heard his car door close and told the kids, "Daddy's home." TheBoy went running to the open front door. That's when I heard him yell, "Bah-Bux," over and over again. Dh came in and TheBoy just kept saying, "Hi, Daddy. Bah-Bux."

That's when I asked Girl1 to translate for her brother. "He said, 'Starbucks'," she told me.

At that point, I jumped off the couch and ran to my lovely husband who held two Frappacinos in his lovely dear sweet hands.

Bah-Bux=Starbucks
Yes, my toddler can correctly identify not only the Starbucks logo (he will yell that when we pass one on the street), but also Frappacinos as well.

Here's more cuteness from my son.

Today, while donning only a shirt and socks, he announced, "Bye bye. Go out." I told him, "You can't go out without pants." To which he pointed to his bare legs and replied, "Ma-gin-erry pants." I didn't get it at first, but then he said, "Soos too," and pretended to put on shoes. Only then did I realize "Ma-gin-erry," is Toddlereese for, "Imaginary." I was quite impressed.

The other night, we got home late and dh put the big kids to bed. TheBoy was sitting on the couch with me starting to doze off. So I figured I'd buck tradition and just let him sit up with us until he fell asleep. Of course, he got his second wind and was wide awake. He tried everything to avoid bed. At one point, I told him, "You need to go to bed now." He said, "Nooooooo," in a sing-songy voice. He then looked up at me, reached towards my face and said in his cutest tone, "Pwetty eyes." He got another 10 minutes and lots of cuddles for that.

Tonight, I snuggled with him before bed and I told him, "You're beautiful." He said, "Boo-tee-full." Then he smiled, looked up at me and said, "Mama too."

You see that puddle over there? That's where my heart just melted.

Oh and he's funny at bedtime. He must say the Sh'ma. Well, someone has to say it. He's usually too busy covering his eyes to even try. If you forget it, though, he will yell, "Ma. Ma," while covering his eyes. He sleeps with a toy zebra. He has recently taken to covering his own eyes with one hand and covering the zebra's with the other while I say the prayer.

Atah meiveen?*

or
At meiveenah?**

Those of you in Israel, correct me if that's way off. The big kids and I are using a CD I found at the library to try to learn Hebrew, but unfortunately, that leaves me guessing at how the heck to spell things using the English alphabet.

How funny would that be if I screw up the title asking if you understand!

Today, the boy announced, "Bah-Bux." I've heard him say it many times and previously, I knew exactly what it meant, but for some reason, today, I couldn't figure out what he was saying.

Luckily, he is not an only child. I was able to ask his biggest sister to translate and she did (she speaks TheBoyish far more fluently than we do). We learned that trick years ago. That was one of the wonderful things about having twins. When we couldn't understand one, we asked the other and she would translate. The rare exceptions often involved a 2-year-old Girl2 with a very puzzled expression on her face, her hands out to her side (in that "I don't know" motion), her head shaking sideways to indicate, "No," and the announcement, "I do not know," in her sweet little voice. We used to joke that she was a cyborg because don't, can't, won't and the like were all absent from her vocabulary.

So, now, take your best guess. Do you speak Toddler-eese? What do you think Bah-Bux translates to in English?


I'll come back after Shabbat and post the whole story behind it. Until then, take your best guess. FTR, Bah-Bux is an English word.



*"Do you understand?" in Hebrew
**Feminine form of the same question

I swear I've dealt with this person.

Oh no. There are idiots like this outside the States? Damn it! I thought they were all confined to our borders. FTR, it's people like this who sent me running and screaming from retail when I was just a teen. I swore I'd never go back. I did briefly at a college bookstore, but that was a bit different.

At my first retail job, when the store was closing, we put up signs to alert people to that fact. Oh my stars and garters! The influx of asinine comments was astounding. That lead me to put up a sign that implored our clients, "Please refrain from asking stupid questions."

And yes, I had one middle-age woman who then went on to read the signs, ask a stupid question (After looking at the, "Store Closing on this date" sign, she asked, "What do you mean the store is closing?"). Only then did she see the stupid question sign. She then asked, "Was that a stupid question?" AHHHHHHHH.

9AM Might Be Best to Start with the Sunday Through Friday Ones

Caller: I need to know about courses on Saturday.
Bored operator: Which center would you like to go through to?
Caller: Yes, uh, Saturday courses. Nine o'clock 'til five o'clock.
Bored operator: Okay, which department?
Caller: Saturday -- S-A-T--
Bored operator: --Which center? Clapham, Vauxhall, Brixton?
Caller: Uh, no, I want to know about Saturday courses. Saturday courses!
Bored operator: Do you have a contact name? ... I'll just put you through to someone, then. Bye!

College
London
England

via Overheard in the Office, Mar 11, 2008

FTR, my refusal to work in the hell that is retail did not insulate me from the idiots. I had a conversation VERY similar to the one quoted above when I was trying to book tickets to go to my cousin's funeral. I'm sorry, but you have no right at all to be an idiot when someone has experienced a death in the family and made you aware of that fact right from the initiation of said phone interaction. If that person is being an ass, you have a little bit of leeway. I, however, was not. Well, I admit I did turn into one after I tried to tell the agent the same thing 5 or 6 times, but I was pleasant and polite initially.

Perhaps I'll post that conversation in the future. Maybe I'll submit it to one of the "Overheard" sites as well.

My husband is eviland oh so funny.

Girl1 lost yet another tooth last week. After stories, the girls talked with dh about the Tooth Fairy. He told Girl1 to be careful not to swallow the Tooth Fairy because he explained she might check in their mouths to see if any other teeth were loose.

When the girls were fast asleep, he stuck his head in the office and told me, "Let's get the tweezers and the flashlight and go in there and tell her she swallowed the Tooth Fairy."

We didn't, but the idea still cracks me up.

I adore his wicked sense of humor. :)

Thursday Thirteen: Cats

Here are 13 lolcats. I'm really not in a very creative mood, so instead of something profound from me, here are cats who don't speak good (he he he he).

1.....

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

2.....

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!


3.....

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

4.....

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

5.....

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

6.....

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

7.....

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

8.....

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

9.....

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

10.....

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

11.....

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

12....

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!

13.....

Enter the ICHC online Poker Cats Contest!



Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

1. (leave your link in comments)


Get the Thursday Thirteen code here!


The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

View More Thursday Thirteen Participants

I'm up.

I think I have entered the Twilight Zone. It's just about 8:30 am. I'm up. I am the only one up.

Cue X-files theme: Do do do do Do dooooooooooo

My daughters never sleep this late. What in the world is going on?

Of course I actually slept last night (there's that choir of angels again), so after dh left this morning, I couldn't fall back to sleep. Instead, I got up, came to watch some t.v. and then hopped on here--all by myself. Wow. This is different and quiet. It's so very quiet.

I think I just heard TheBoy stirring, so I'll go spend some quiet quality one-on-one time with him while the sisters are in dreamland. I'll bet you $5 his first question will be, "Girl2?" That will be followed by, "Girl1?" I have no clue what his reaction will be when I tell him they're still asleep. I don't know if I've ever had to tell him that.

Weird.

Dear World Maths Day folks,

It may have seemed like a good idea, but I'm about ready to injure someone over at World Maths Day.

Both my big kids are signed up and ready to go. Problem is, I suspect the server is not prepared for the demand. We can't do anything. The games won't load. When we're finally able to get one to start, there's nothing there. A map pops up every once in a while, but then nothing happens. Occasionally, it kicks us out for a period of inactivity, but the only reason we're inactive is because THERE'S NOTHING THERE.

My kids were really excited to do this. The idea of joining people from all over the world playing math games was pretty cool. Now, though, that excitement is fading and I'm being met with questions like, "That's never going to work. May I watch Little House on the Prairie instead?"

So much for getting my kids excited about math.

Oh and I'm hanging my head in shame because after looking through the 100 top scores, I don't see a single American. Oy vey!

A lovely gushing thank you letter to my dear sweet son.

As I've mentioned, I've been ill as of late. I've been horribly congested which means no sleep for me. Coughing and that horrible "Can't breathe because I'm drowning in my own mucous" feeling keeps me from sleeping at night. Even taking two OTC sleeping pills at a time doesn't help much at all.

There is, however, a higher power who likes me and my son does as well. I can manage to fall asleep around 7 am. The big kids are up by then, but they can take care of themselves. Typically, this would be a disaster because it would give me only about an hour of sleep before the baby is up for the day. TheBoy goes down at 7 pm and is typically up around 8:30 am. Sometimes, on the weekend, we get lucky and he'll allow us all to sleep later, but it's his routine to be up around 8:30 on weekdays. This was endlessly useful when I was going to the gym. When I'm stuck home with a cold, though, not so much.

Ever since I've been sick, TheBoy has been sleeping until at least 10:30 am. Oh dear sweet child, THANK YOU. I need that little extra bit of sleep oh so very much.

Today, he was up around 6:30, just before dh left for work. I thought the worst, but nope. Thanks to my lovely husband, my dear sweet son and the grace of G-d, it all worked out. Dh took TheBoy to the potty. He went then insisted, "Go play now." Dh nixed that idea and put him back to bed where he went back to sleep and has been sleeping ever since. Have you seen my time stamp? It's after 11 am.

And yes, a choir of angels did sing.

What's better than that? The child is still taking naps during the day. Granted, it's not the 3 hour naps he usually takes, but he has still been napping for 1-2 hours. Given that he's sleeping at least 2 hours later than usual, it's a miracle that the child is napping at all.

Thank you. Thank you. THANK YOU.

Being grateful for the experience

I'm not exactly certain where this is coming from. I sat down to finally do some fiction writing. Instead, I found the prompt inspired this rant.

When Oprah got all orgasmic over The Secret, I sat up and thought, "Hm...this could be promising." Then, one of the featured, "experts" (don't get me started) made an unforgivable comment. He told a woman who had divorced an abusive husband that she should thank him for the experience because she wouldn't be who she is without it.

I wanted to jump through time and space and strangle that man. I've worked with far too many abuse organizations to think that concept could ever be useful. The idea of thanking someone for abuse is disgusting. The thought of a 7-year-old relative thanking the teenager who raped her makes me want to injure someone (HIM). The thought of dh's elderly grandmother thanking the S.S. officers for not only destroying her life in Germany 60+ years ago, but then having to relive the whole ordeal now absolutely crushes me. What is wrong with the world that not only do such atrocities happen, but now we're supposed to turn around and say, "Thanks so much?"

Monday, I happened to catch Oprah's show I wanted to hear more about The Big Give. One of the contestants featured spoke briefly about how she was abused during her childhood, but she is grateful for it because it made her who she is today.

WTFityF?

Eli Wiesel (who I read before Oprah featured him in her stupid book club) dealt with suffering and meaning in Night. In the wake of the Shoah, we must ask ourselves, "Why?" There is no definite answer and there will be no end to our questions. Good things have happened since then, directly and indirectly related to those horrors, yet how could we ever dare to think of saying we are grateful for such destruction?

When I read Wiesel in college, my take on suffering was the same then as it is now. I also think it might be more in line with what Oprah's cronies are suggesting. I don't know that things always happen for a reason, but I believe we each have the opportunity to GIVE them reason. We can use that as springboards to something better.

If we were abused, we are left with a choice--to dwell, to destroy or to do. We don't need to be grateful for the abuse. I find that idea absolutely disgusting. Abuse does not make anyone into a better person. That person decides where he/she wants to go from there. That person needs to be grateful for his/her own strength and perseverance. THAT is what makes the difference. The abuser did not make you a better person. The abuse did not make you who you are today. YOU make the conscious decision to do that yourself.

Overheard in my office

Me: How do you spell, "Role model?"
Dh: R-O-L-E space
Me: Oh. Gah. You can stop. Ugh.
Dh: No, that's not something you put butter on.
Me: Well, you could try. The ability to butter one's role model depends directly on how old he or she is and how fast that person could run...

More writing inspiration

I have yet to tackle my oh so creative writing prompt, but I stumbled across something at Zen Habits that I wanted to share with my writer friends.

31 Ways To Find Inspiration For Your Writing

I have the most wonderful friends who have the most wonderful kids.

One of my friends has a particularly brilliant (and hysterically funny) little guy. He's far too smart for his own (or his parents') good. Although, he does provide wonderful fodder for her blog. He has done it yet again and it's hysterical.

She blogged about some of his latest exploits, but she left off another one that had me guffawing out loud (for those with an aversion to LOLing).

I'm going to paraphrase her report from memory. Hopefully, I won't screw it up. If I do, I trust that she'll correct me in the comments.

While at church, he was climbing on something (a railing? the pew?). She chastized him and in full Catholic mom mode, asked, "Does Jesus climb on your furniture? No. So you don't climb on his. This is Jesus' house. He doesn't come over and jump on your bed, so you stay off his furniture." So he stopped and after a moment, he looked up and said loudly, "But, Mommy, I LIKE Jesus. If he wants to come over and jump on my bed, he can."

At that, the priest had to take a break from leading mass because he cracked up too. I had the same reaction.

Hacking a cough

Does anyone have any hacks (oh the puns!) for coughs and/or congestion? I'm dying here and my sanity (and sleep which is directly related to my sanity) rely on your help.

I've tried honey.

I tried the generic equivalent of vapor rub (both on my chest/neck as is traditional and also on the soles of my feet).

I tried a sleeping pill.

I tried another sleeping pill a while later when the original combo didn't help.

Quick, someone give me some ideas--preferably from something that already exists in my cabinets because I'm not going for a walk in the wide wide world where I can pass around the cough.

Overheard at my house

I made this comment today to the dog,
"Your brother doesn't need your help. Leave him alone. (pause) Now you see what I mean? You try to help him out and he jumped on your head."

A productive member of society

I'm trying to force myself to think in new "outside the box" ways and do some writing. I need to do something a bit more creative than schleping through the endless lists of blogs in my Google Reader. Unfortunately, that productive thing is not working (and I marked 94 entries as read just to end the insanity).

I had a brilliant idea. I would ask dh for a word (without an explanation). I would then head to our bookshelf and find a book with that word in the title. From there, I would ask him for a number and turn to that page. After he supplied another number, I would count down that many lines and use that as the opening for a short fiction piece.

He gave me the word, "Cup." After some initial hesitation (aka freaking out), I realized that while I don't see that in any titles (which genius came up with this idea? We have several hundred books on our bookshelves. How in the hell am I supposed to read through all the titles in search of a single word?), I knew I owned a book with a picture of a cup on its cover. Good enough. I searched and found that book. Then I left it on the couch while I ran around doing completely random and relatively useless things.

Give me a moment to get all the sighing out of my system. Then we'll see where I go from here.

11:17 pm edit: After turning to a random page (621) and asking dh for a number (34), I came across this paragraph which I adore,

"Not even then did she speak. As a powerful Jewish woman, intelligent beyond the average and capable in many untested directions, she began to find reassureance in her unexpected resolve, which she expressed only to herself by keeping her hands pressed tightly against her sides until her fingertips grew white with controlled fury, and in that insolent pose she stared back at the rabbi until the pusillanimous lawgiver left the room....

It's actually from one of the stories that bothered me the most in the novel (Shimrith, her evil brother-in-law, and Jewish law regarding a childless widow with a childless brother-in-law). It's such a powerful paragraph. Hmmm... Perhaps I can do something with this.

Thursday Thirteen: 13 things I sent my husband

My husband was active duty military until very recently. The first time the military took him away from me (which was before the September 11th attacks), I made him a little box filled with trinkets to remind him of home. That box now lives in our son's room, but ever since I started doing these TT's, I've wanted to post about that box. Today, I have my chance.




Thirteen Things I sent my husband


1..... A ruby slipper earring to remind him, "There's no place like home."






2..... A shell we collected from the beach when we got married. He was gone for our anniversary, so I sent him that to remind him that I'd be thinking of him on that day even if we couldn't be together.









3.....Oh the foreshadowing! This is actually a pin I had from Operation Desert Storm. I included this to remind him that he was always on my mind. I had no idea that the future held another "War" and more deployments to frightening places.






4.....Corny as hell, I know, but I sent him a key because he had the key to my heart.








5.....I sent him this star to remind him that I made wishes for him on stars all the time.









6.....I did this drawing back in middle school. It was actually done on a book cover. I always liked it, so I saved it all these years. I sent it to him to remind him that I missed him.








7.....This is an angel earing I had. I sent it to him to remind him that I was praying for him.








8.....(not pictured) It's no longer in the box, but at the time, I included a burnt match that I had used to light the shabbas candles in his absence. I explained in the letter sent with the box that it was also a promise of the shabbas candles we would once again light together in the future.

The rest are fortunes we had saved which I included in the box. They're not pictured, but I'll share the text.

9.....You make people realize that there exist other beauties in the world.

10.....You have the ability to adapt to diverse situations.

11.....Good luck bestows upon you. You will get what your heart desires.

12.....Follow your heart's desire.

13.....Stop searching forever. Happiness is just next to you.

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

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The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

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Two little words that can change your life.

Did you say, "Thank you," today?

I try to say it, but I realize I don't say it nearly enough. The next time someone thanks you, stop and think about what it really means. Don't think of it as a trite phrase, realize that it means someone has recognized you and they appreciate what you have done. When you realize that, maybe you'll use it more. Make sure you thank those around you. You never know what it might do for them. I can't find it now, but recently, I came across a postcard at Post Secret where someone admitted to wanting to kill him/herself, but nice strangers kept him/her from doing it. Someone else wrote in to say he/she was in the same situation.

To my husband who agreed to run around with us today even though he's sick, Thank you.

to the man who works the window at Starbucks even though he's deaf (he handles the face-to-face stuff at the window). Thank you for giving me the opportunity to show my children what people with disabilities CAN do. I hear so often, "He/she can't do that because he/she is disabled." It's wonderful to have a real-life example where I have the opportunity to show the kids that people have far more abilities than disabilities. Oh and thanks for signing with me (without laughing at my feeble attempt) even though I know my ASL skills are lacking.



Thank you to my big kids for all their help. Sometimes, I want to sell you on e-bay, but more often than not, I'm floored at how much you love each other and what you're willing to do to help out with your little brother.

THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU to my friends who were not only there for me when I needed it, but who even provided tchochkis great conversation and wine.

THANK YOU to 2 of the aforementioned friends who not only stepped up, but jumped at the chance to help when I had to go out of state for a funeral and dh couldn't get off work. We were frantic and had no clue what we were going to do, but two of my friends (including one who really didn't know me that well) watched the girls all day for 2 days. I will be forever in their debt. We have yet to come up with a proper way to thank them. If anyone has ideas, please let me know.

To that cashier at the store who let my daughters use the "Private. Employees Only" bathroom, thank you so very much.

To that teenage girl who raced after me in the mall in order to give me back my son's brand new and oh so adorable sweat shirt that had fallen, thank you. I hope I got across how much I appreciated it, but I'm afraid I didn't.

Thank you to a specific teacher friend who jumped at the chance to help me out with a reading question even though the two siblings I have who are teachers never responded.

Thank you to my niece who is absolutely wonderful and who is NOT insane. That's always a plus in our family even if it is rare.

To those who provide fodder for my funny bone as well as my deeper thoughts through their blogs, thank you. I'm constantly checking my Google Reader to see who has updated today. I admit that there are a specific few who always make my heart skip a beat when I see they've updated. Most of these people, I have never met, yet I eagerly follow along with their lives and their thoughts. Thank you for taking time from your day to blog. Whether your blog entry consists of a humorous account of those around you or an in-depth discussion of all things spiritual, I really do appreciate it. Sometimes, something you write inspires me to think differently or do something I never considered before. The fact that someone across the country or across the world can write something and create a change in me is astounding. Thank you.

To whomever created Frappaccinos, thank you.

To my sister and another friend who went above and beyond and took me to the amazing chocolate shoppe I've been wanting to try and then wouldn't let me pay for my order, thank you.

To my son who potty trained earlier than everyone insisted was possible, THANK YOU. Let me repeat that, THANK YOU.

Thank you so much to a friend's mother who, nearly a decade later, still raves about my wedding even when our own families hated it because it was so "different." And thank you to that friend for relaying that conversation.

Thank you to Kamrin for oh so much. From introducing me to the concept of simplifying, to always being there for others even when struggling through so much yourself, thank you.

I don't always appreciate the way my mother parented and I'm making different decisions for our family, but she was a strong female role model who helped shape my Feminist thinking. Thank you.

Thanks to my dad for being friends with everyone. Sure, sometimes it's embarassing when he insists on trying to speak what little bit of another language he knows (and loudly--oh so very loudly), but I think his openness and lack of fear towards others was a wonderful example for us to see growing up.

Thank you to the local radio station for offering free tickets to a kids' show and thank you to my husband for humoring me and calling on his cell phone even though I was already calling at the same time (I didn't win the tickets. He did).

I could do this forever, but instead, I'll end with a challenge. Make sure you thank at least one person every day--be truly thankful, don't just use the phrase in passing. Make a point of noticing when someone says, "Thank you," to you as well. Don't just brush it off. Realize that they're telling you how much they appreciate you.

Overheard at the office provides a reason to live,or at least a reason to procrastinate.

1PM ... Anymore

Office chick #1: Don't squeeze it! All the goo will come out!
Office chick #2, playing with stress ball: Why, what happened?
Office chick #1: I got a little too excited and squeezed it until it popped... That's why I don't hold babies...

Arlington, Virginia

via Overheard in the Office, Feb 22, 2008

5PM Would You Settle for Nutter Butters?
Cube rat exiting front door: I'm going out. Can I bring back anything for anybody?
Voice from back of room: Johnny Depp.
Cube rat, disgustedly: Oh, nice, but I meant bring back anything to eat.
Different voice from back of room: Johnny Depp on a cracker.

4th Street
Louisville, Kentucky
via Overheard in the Office, Feb 25, 2008

I want to live here.

Check out this site: Make Stuff.

Oh my stars and garters! I could live there. Be warned that some areas are only for paying members, but I'm sticking to the free areas.

They have all sorts of stuff. There are ideas for recycling, kids' crafts, even making pet food.

I could spend hours looking around that site.

Graphic Design is...

I just love this poster. Love it. LOVE it.

When one can combine two of my loves (coffee and graphic design), one is a genius and I am a happy camper. Great work!

Science and the joys of homeschooling

The fine folks at PBN and Zula have asked parents to post about Science. They asked what we as parents are doing to bring Science back for younger elementary school children.

Bring it back? Where did it go?

Last time I checked, it was right there in plants the big kids planted for Tu B'Shevat. It's there in the lapbook we made to celebrate Tu B'Shevat (I love it. I get to combine religious holidays with Science). It's in the news stories about the space shuttle lifting off and then returning. It's in the Astronaut lapbook my kids are dying to do (the printer, however, has other ideas). It's all over the children's museum we visited a few weeks ago with one of our homeschool groups. You can't avoid it at the zoo (where we would live if we could). It's at the local natural history museum (which has a great free kids' program this weekend). It's dripping from the walls at the local science museum. It's as far away as a wayward satellite and as close as our backyard.

What am I doing to bring it back? It never left.

Civilized is better than socialized.

I'm in the market for a new bumper sticker. While scanning Cafe Press, I came across this:

Civilized...

Oh how I love that. Although, I bristle at the s-word. I've found that some people just don't get it.

Oh and I like this bumper sticker as well.

Ah. Ah. They have a Jewish Homeschooler bag. Oh my word! I want one. I'm always the token Jew in any homeschool group. I actually don't mind it, but oh how I love the fact that that's out there. Yay for the Yids. :-)

Inspired by that last find, I Googled "Jewish homeschool" and found this: Jewish Homeschooling: A-Z Home's Cool Homeschooling . Oh and now I found this: Liz's Jewish Unschooling Homepage. G-d bless Google! I live in an area where my fellow Yids are few and far between, so it's WONDERFUL to have the internet as a resource.

Now I'm in a very good mood. I found great bumper stickers and I found other Jewish homeschool resources. Now if I could find a way to make a Peppermint Mocha Frappaccino materialize at my fingertips, I would be absolutely giddy.

Quirky Quote Contest Entry #2

I really could do this forever, but luckily, there's a limit of two entries. And so, here's my final one. Once again, for the Quirky Quote Contest 2008,

"If we look long enough and hard enough...we will begin to see the connections that bind us together, and when we recognize those connections, we will begin to change the world." -Muriel Rykeyser

Quirky Quote Contest Entry #1

Head on over to the Quirky Quote Contest over at An Open book. All my regular readers know I'm a huge fan of quotations, so this is right up my alley.

This is one of my all time favorite "quirky" quotations, and so, I will once again share it with you.

"My mother said I drove her crazy. I did not drive my mother crazy. I flew her there. It was faster." -Robin Tyler

I must be hormonal

Because I damn near cried while I watched this:




I've been told it's part of the celebration of India's independence. It's great. Watch it. It's fairly brief.

Reading, Writing, and Sh'maing

Today, Girl2 read her first word in Hebrew. This is particularly momentous since I have yet to be able to do that.

What was that word she read? Sh'ma.

And with that, she had me in tears.

You see, when our children were born, the first thing I said to each of them was reciting the first few lines of the Sh'ma.

The day after she was born, I had to whisper the prayer to Girl2 through the circular door in her incubator while she was completely covered with tubes and wires. She was too fragile and too unstable to hold. I was too sick to be allowed to leave my room until my children were more than 24 hours old. Technically, I shouldn't have even been allowed to go when I did, but I had a fabulous nurse who promised me I could see my children even if she had to wheel my whole bed there herself.

When dh was deployed, I would read to the girls at night (typically his job) and when we were done, we could recite the Mizpah and then we would say the Sh'ma together.

My heart skipped a beat when they were in kindergarten. In Sunday school, someone mentioned how their teacher had taught them the Sh'ma. Girl1 piped up and said, "Actually, our mother taught us."

Today, my daughter read her first word in Hebrew. That word is the very same one that I first whispered to her at a time when I didn't know if she could even hear me, if she would ever hear me. I didn't know if she would survive another day. She has survived. She has thrived. She can hear us. She can hear G-d.

Hear, oh Israel, the L-rd is our G-d. The L-rd is one.

Baruch atah, Adonai Elohenu, melech ha-olam, sheheyanu v'kiYemanu v'higiyanu lazman hazeh.
Blessed are you, Adnai our G-d, Ruler of the world, who has given us life, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this season.

Thursday Thirteen: Candy Hearts

Thirteen Candy Hearts for Valentine's Day

Created here.

1

2
3*
4
5*
6*
7
8
9*

10
11
12*
13

* indicates that the heart is not my original creation




Links to other Thursday Thirteens!

1. (leave your link in comments)


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My children voted for cupcakey goodness over my will power.

I put it up for a vote. The kids voted to make cupcakes today as long as we didn't eat them all. We made 24. How many survived, I know not.

're wonderful. Red Velvet cake with pink vanilla frosting and sprinkles. The girls were in charge of the sprinkles. They took great pride in their job. They did much of the mixing and some of the icing as well, but the sprinkles were what it's all about. I should point out that we don't do much junk food and we certainly don't do sprinkles. So this was a huge event for the wee ones.

And a yummy event for all involved (and the little napping brother and big working daddy who were not involved, but benefited from the fruits of our labor).

On Jews and Valentine's Day

Rabbi Ginsburg talks about Jews and Valentine's Day.



He also has this great entry on the topic at his blog.

Although, I must say I agree in a large part with the Orthodox rabbis. After years of boycotting it, we're now trying to create our own celebration that focuses on telling our family we love them. No shiny jewelry. No boxes of chocolates. No flowers will be sacrificed in our honor. Instead, we just want to see the day the way we (or at least I) did back in first grade.

It's not questionable Christian saints and diamond rings. It's coloring pages and cupcakes.

And yes, the cupcakes still exist (in their pre-baked form). My willpower has thus far, won out in the battle for the cup cakes. :-)

A letter to Senator Hillary Clinton

This letter says much of what I've been thinking, so I simply must share.

Dear Senator Hillary Clinton, Please Step Down

Go and read.

The cupcakes are calling me.

We don't usually do anything for Valentine's Day. First of all, it's really a Christian thing and we, very much, are not. Secondly, ever since high school, I have felt like it's a scam created by the greeting card industry in an attempt to coerce us into buying shiny, red, and/or sparkly crap we don't really need. Because nothing says, "I love you," like an armful of dead flowers. Besides, we should tell our nearest and dearest we love them all the time, not just on one anointed day simply because Hallmark told us to.

Ever since I had children, though, that has started to change. We're no longer bound to the Hallmarkian idea that the day is about showing off your love in some grand fashion. Instead, it's about hand-colored cards for your friends and cutting out heart decorations for the house.

In addition to all this, for some unknown reason, I've had cupcakes on the brain lately. And so, today, we headed to Target to grab some cake mix, frosting and those little paper cupcake cups so that the kids and I can make cupcakes for Valentine's Day.

Completely OT, but would someone please explain to me why Target brand Jello is kosher, but Wal-Mart's is not even though the majority of Wal-Mart's store brand items are?

So a cake mix, frilly paper cups, and pink vanilla frosting (with sprinkles) are all playing nicely in my kitchen. The problem is, we got them for Valentine's Day. That would be Thursday. Today is only Monday. My stomach, however, pays no heed to calendars. I want those freaking cupcakes.

This is going to prove to be very very difficult.

If you should find me covered in pink frosting and sprinkles, please don't tell my kids. Shhhhh. If you keep my secret, I promise to share the love in cupcake form.

On moms and blogging

I found these blog entry through Ima on (and off) the bima and I thought they were very interesting.

Wonder Woman Is Just A Chick In Tights

She has a fabulous point for everyone, not just women and certainly not just moms.

Although, I disagree with her title. I can throw on a pair of tights, but that will not give me super powers nor will it give me that super cool yet oh so stupid invisible plane.

You Know Your Wife's A Blogger When...

We should all work together to come up with the "You know your mom's a blogger when..." list.

I want these

I'm trying to resist the urge to buy these, but I love this idea.

Designer Diner mats
I especially like this one and this one.

They're mats the roll up where one side is a chalk board and the other is laminated cloth. Those could be very useful in restaurants and for long drives in the car.

Thursday Thirteen: useful super powers

Thirteen very useful superpowers




1…. The ability to stop time.

When I had a matching set of colicky babies and a husband who worked nights, I often had the urge to touch the tips of my pointer fingers together in an attempt to stop time so that I could get some FREAKING SLEEP. Yes, I admit to trying it once or twice. It never worked, but oh how I wish that it did!

2....an extra set of arms

I believe that with each child under 6, you should get an extra set of arms. As a child, I had an irrational fear of having my hands amputated (don't ask. I have no idea), so when I was very young, I taught myself to pick things up with my toes. After having twins, that little trick turned out to be very useful. Of course, not everyone was as bizarre of a child as I was, so the extra set of arms would probably be more useful.

3....Teleportation

Have you ever tried to fly 2000 miles with small children? Yeah, not fun. Have you ever had to endure a 2-week long visit from your in-laws who feel the need to respond to all of your parenting practices with the mantra, "We didn't do that and our kids turned out just fine?"

Just think, if we were our own Scotties who could beam us up, we could travel to distant places without the fear of high prices for plane tickets; tiny bathrooms with no space in which to change diapered bums; 20 minutes in which to race to your connecting flight which takes off from the gate that is the farthest possible distance from where you are; and without the need to pack 12 bags of snacks and 3 bags of toys to keep the children quiet enough so as not to piss off your fellow passengers. Also, we would not need to endure long visits from others because they could pick up their freaking toys and go the hell home on a moment's notice.

Yes, I see the potential for this to be abused and I do have very Harry Potterish visions of my in-laws using the floo powder and showing up in my fireplace unannounced, but shhhhhh, it's my fantasy.

4.... Silent stare (aka STFU stare)

I want the ability to quiet anyone down simply by glaring at them. One ticked off glance would leave my victim....um...er...child or the idiot at Wal-Mart in utter silence.

5....Force fields

I want the ability to create a force field around the baby's room which no noise, no child, no light, no animals could penetrate without my permission. One of those would also be useful around our room during, "GO THE HELL AWAY," time.

6....Instant replay

I want a random screen on which I can instantly replay actions/words. That way, when kids insist, "But SHHHEEEEE did it, not me," there would be no discussion. We would go to the tape and that would settle that. When the husband insists, "But you never told me that, " I could whip out the board, scroll through a transcript of our conversation and highlight the exact moment at which I did, in fact, tell him that.


7....the Force

How useful would that be? You sit there nursing the baby and have that book/phone/steak dinner fly to you. Don't have enough hands to carry all those bowls? No problem, just use the Force to get them on the table. While at the office, your child's preschool calls because you forgot your child's lunch. No problem. From the comfort of your own desk, you can use the force to snatch that Spiderman lunch box right off the counter and have it waft into his cubby. Are those annoying kids at your front door again trying to get you to buy magazines? Use the force to throw stuff at them without even having to open the front door. You stay comfortable. They go the fuck away. It's a win-win situation for all.

That Darth Vader choking people from a distance thing could prove useful for the same situation.

8....Mind reading

I cannot tell you how many times dh and I have asked, "WTF were they thinking?" If I could read their minds, I wouldn't have to wonder, I would know.

9....A search feature for my brain

When I can't remember where I left the kids' school work/my keys/our library books/my youngest child, it would be great to have a little drop-down search feature which would retrieve that information without me having to backtrack through my entire freaking day in an attempt to find where we left our things/family members.

10....Invisibility cloak

I realize that's more of an enchanted item of clothing rather than a super power and I can see the potential for problems (see #9), but damn it, sometimes, I just want to be invisible.

11....Romantic gravitational pull

I want some sort of power that elicits love and sweetness from those around me. From my kids, it could be hugs, kisses and cute works of art just for me. From my husband, it could be back rubs and candle-light baths. From my friends, it would be words of encouragement, boxes of chocolate, and offers to watch my children.

12....Rewind

When I say/do something stupid, I want the ability to go back and try again.

13....The ability to make yummy (calorie and fat-free) Chinese food instantly appear

The kids are currently doing worksheets about the Chinese New Year, so I have that on my mind, but I love Chinese food regardless.




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The purpose of the meme is to get to know everyone who participates a little bit better every Thursday. Visiting fellow Thirteeners is encouraged! If you participate, leave the link to your Thirteen in others comments. It’s easy, and fun! Trackbacks, pings, comment links accepted!

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Partisan Politics

Over at Out in Left Field, there's a new post to which I want to draw your attention: You Want To Be A Republican.

This particular one rings so very true in our house:
f. The best way to improve military morale is to praise our troops on television while slashing veterans' benefits and combat pay.


I would also like to direct your attention to this fabulous post about what the politicians plan on doing for families.

Skip This One if You've Got an Elephant Bumper Sticker on the SUV

Mom-101 did a fabulous job with that one.

And in her latest post, I found this which I think is pretty cool (the idea, execution, and final results).

My very unscientific poll

In an attempt to explain the primaries to first-graders, we had our own primaries. We split the 4 of us into Democrats (Girl2 and TheBoy) and Republicans (Girl1 and me). Then we all voted (it had to be an open primary or else we would have been screwed).

Here's the cast of characters:

Dem
Girl2: Hilary Clinton
TheBoy: Barack Obama

Rep
Me: John McCain
Girl1: Ron Paul

Yes, I realize our Republican candidates sort of alter the results, but blame it on my kids. Girl 1 was adamant that she did not want to be John McCain. When asked who she should portray, Girl1 insisted, "Ron Paul." That's what you get when some of your closest friends are Ron Paul supporters.

Our results were as follows:
Hillary Clinton (D)
John McCain (R)

From there, we went on to a presidential election. Clinton beat McCain by a vote of 2:1 (literally), although there was one write-in vote for a 3rd party candidate (when asked for whom he wanted to vote, TheBoy raised his hand and yelled his own name).

Of course, all 3 of them later went off and had another secret election wherein they voted for a candidate who is apparently able to bridge the gap between the two parties. He won with a unanimous vote from all voters regardless of political affiliation.

And so, I would like to introduce the new President of the United States of America, our cat.

Original photo by Paul Morse found at the Republican National Convention Blog

Please note, that at the insistance of my children, I added a horribly drawn green kipah to the bald man bottom right. Every time I try to alter an image, they're forever asking me to add a kipah. And so, I did.

Why oh why do I share these things with you?

Over at the Rocking Pony, she's having a neat giveaway from her super-cute Etsy store.

The twist is that in order to enter, you have to share your most embarassing moment.

Here is mine.

Warning: This contains a potty-training story. I know there are some folks who run screaming from the room when the topic comes up, so I'm pausing here to give you fair warning.

When the big kids were just shy of 2, they were potty trained, dh was deployed and I was working towards a position I wanted dearly. All these bits of information play a role in this little tale.

As part of obtaining that position, I met with a friend who was in charge of the process. We both had kids (hers were a bit older than mine), so we met in the children's section of a library where we could pull up a seat, discuss work and our kids could play.

At that point, I was trying to teach myself not to watch the kids like a hawk. They were secure independent little things and I wanted to help foster that independence. Problem is, I also wanted to follow them around making sure they didn't destroy anything. I was in the process of finding a healthy balance. Girl2, however, was in the process of exploiting those moments when my eyes weren't on her.

At one point, I turned around to find that my youngest daughter had apparently pulled her underwear aside (she was wearing a dress), squated and pooped...on the floor...the CARPETED floor...in the middle of the library. She couldn't leave it at that. Oh no! She had to WALK THROUGH IT over and over again tracking poop EVERYWHERE and grinding it into the carpet. Did I mention she was wearing sandals? So it was also all over her little feet.

I was MORTIFIED. After lots of expletives, I scooped her up and ran to the bathroom. There was no way to clean her sandals. No amount of scrubbing helped. I managed to sit her in the sink and wash her off as best as I could, but wouldn't you know it, the bathroom there had ditched paper towels in favor of one of those blowers. I needed the towels to scrub and to dry her little bum. I'm not putting my baby's bum up to a hot dryer even if she did just track poop all over the library's carpeted floor.

G-d bless that friend I was meeting with. She checked on us and then brought us some paper towels. She watched Girl1 along with her kids so that I could focus on (aka scrub) Girl2. And I will never ever be able to thank her enough for making the library staff aware of the problem. The thought of having to go up to them and announce, "My child pooped on your floor. Yeah and then stomped through it. It's everywhere," made me want to cry. The fact that she did it for me leaves me forever in her debt.

Of course this library didn't own a carpet cleaner. I had planned on cleaning up the mess, assuming they had some device with which to shampoo it. Nope. What they had was some sort of powder and more paper towels. I offered to clean it, but they refused.

At that point, I was ready to cry. My husband had been away for months, this position I wanted was on the line and my daughter went and pooped on the floor. And then walked through it and went for a walk in the wild wild world thereby tracking it EVERYWHERE.

Mortified really isn't a strong enough word. I have never been back to that children's area since and I don't know if I ever could. Well, maybe when she's a teenager, if she drives me nuts, I'll pack her and some of her friends up and head out there where I can tell them this story. :-)

Stomping through my archives in an attempt to provide you with more information than you ever thought necessary.

I've seen this meme on other blogs, but Robin left it open so that one need not wait to be tagged. Since I still have nothing new of substance to share with you, I figured I'd go back and give this a shot.

Here's the deal, you stumble through your archives and find posts that fit these 5 qualifications:

Link 1 must be about family.
Link 2 must be about friends.
Link 3 must be about yourself, who you are… what you’re all about.
Link 4 must be about something you love.
Link 5 can be anything you choose.


Here are mine:

Link 1: Milk, it does a soul good (family)

Link 2: (friends)
My deep thought for the day And let me add, I no longer see that particular friend, but I think of her often. She was the FABULOUS one who planned this surprise party for me just after dh deployed. If you're still out there and still reading, I miss you, we all do.


Link 3: I'm going to cheat and post two

a) Shove it up your... (me) Yes, my children are the topic of it, but I don't think you can read that and NOT learn something about me.

b)The Truth is Out There (Those are the answers to a true/false game I played)

Link 4: (something I love) I'm cheating yet again and posting 2.
a)Another benefit of breastfeeding: Breastmilk contains sanity

b) Feel the love

Link 5: Restoring my faith in humanity (anything)

I'm adding a random bonus post just because I can. While looking through the archives, I found this which I had completely forgotten about: I fought the curb and the curb won. That's why I was on crutches in 4b. I think that one tells you a bit more about me.

There ya go. Hopefully, that helped you all learn something new about me. It was fun (and sometimes painful) to look through my archives.

I'm tagging Giselle (who needs to get her butt back and blog), Kamrin and Suzie

I haven't posted anything of substance in a while and that trend will continue

I have nothing to say, but I know I need to update, so here's a random comment that Girl1 made the other day.

Do you know what lives in there? Monkeys and zebras and Punky Brewster.

I'm abusing my public diary in an attempt to win free stuff--AGAIN

Yeah, yeah, "sold out," "the man" "blah blah blah." I get it.