MISSING!!!

I'd like to report a runaway. It seems that a few weeks ago, a very important thing disappeared from my life... My patience. Sure it was a little thin and under-used, but I was going to work on that. Now it is gone, gone, gone. Sadly, it took some of sanity with it, which makes me just a self-headshave and straightjacket shy of crazy. If found, please take my patience to the nearest Starbucks. There's a good chance I will be stopping by one day.

Duh Nile

Yeah, we've all been there. Right now I'm just trying to get out. It's a river, alright- swift currents keep dragging me back. That's about it.

Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. Just keep swimming...

Is there any answer/wisdom in life you can't get from a children's movie?

Pooped.

I'm tired of poop. Tired of seeing it, cleaning it, wiping it, smelling it, finding it, talking about it, hearing about it, singing about it.
That's right, we sing about it. We even have a butt cream song that the 2 year old broke out one day at the store.

Don't worry, I'm not delusional- I know tomorrow is another day of diapers and potty talks.


But that's tomorrow. Today's poop has all been flushed...

At least, I think so...

Controversial Statements to Follow...

It's time. I'm sorry, but it was bound to come to this sooner or later. You'll understand why now in just a moment.

Top 5 Reasons I Reject Facebook:

5. It's a playground for crazy people & criminals.

4. My ex-boyfriend keeps trying to "find" me.

3. Everyone keeps asking me if I'm "on Facebook". I'm not "on" anything, but thanks for the concern.

2. My ex-boyfriend tried to "friend" my husband.

1. Girls my husband went to elementary school with in CANADA are "finding" and "friending" him. Not to mention asking him to dinner.

Guess my ex isn't the only one riding the crazy train...

31's...

Thirty-one. Ever since I reached the magical car-renting age of 25, I have wondered if there would be anything special to getting older. Don't worry- I'm not about to list the 31 reasons 31 is great... But here are a few fabulous facts about 31:

- Seven months of the year are 31 days long.

- The Saints won this year's Superbowl 31-17.

- Our 31st president was Herbert Hoover, and his term included the year 1931.

- Humans have 31 pairs of spinal nerves, and lose about 31 million neocortical neurons per year.

- Baskin-Robbins 31 Flavors... That just makes me hungry.


And lastly, 31 is a prime number! I am going to be in my prime! (At least for a year.)
Okay, so maybe I'm still not psyched to be in my thirties. I am, however, taking comfort in that it will be 9 more years until I'm forty. Not much, but according to my older aquaintances, I'll probably be medicated by then anyhow.

Ode to a dear friend

Every day
I touch you
Sometimes you make me smile
Sometimes you make me cry
You are
My constant companion
Always there when I am lonely
Always there when I need you
I hate it
When your battery drains.



Thank you for being
My iPod.

The Persian Flaw

No, not the cat- though interesting sidebar: a client brings in a female Persian kitten she bought from a "reputable" breeder. Upon a routine temperature screen, it was discovered to be a male...
Anyhow, back to the real Persian flaw- Persian rugs are made to have an imperfection. These imperfect rugs- expensive, sought after, prized.
With that, here are my top 5 imperfections:
5. Bad knees
4. Remote control Control Freak
3. Laziness
2. Passive-agressive
1. Perfectionism
I'm sure I have others, and the top 5 changes on any given day. I'll always have some- and with these, because of these, I am prized.
And so are you.

Frozen Trusts

Even Jesus was betrayed- I know I knew better once upon a time. I guess I trusted in where my friendships were forged, somehow thinking they were impervious. I also never expected my trust to be betrayed in such a way that would leave it so broken, like a shattered mirror. Tiny pieces of that mirror keep reflecting on everyone I believe in, and then I get angry. With myself, and with the one who shattered it. I don't know how to forgive that, I'm not sure I can. I am just trying not to hate right now, trying not to be angry, but every time I look at someone with my girls and automatically question their intentions- it's there.
And I hate it.

Holographic Instruction Manuals

Maybe at first you saw this post title and thought, wow, she has finally and totally lost it. Well, hold on, I have got a pitch for you!
For anyone who has ever had to put anything with multiple parts together using a single page instruction sheet- one that shows a single drawn illustration of what you are attempting to build. Of course, the illustration is a model for 3-4 different versions of that item, never the one you actually purchased. There are arrows that point in general directions to give vague ideas of where each piece would seem to fit. (If that piece was included, and if it is not defective). Help lines do not exist for these products, likely because high caller volume would cause the demise of the phone system- this is the same reason there is no company website.
My simple solution: a hologram of a person correctly building each version of the product. Welcome to the future. We play a lot of fantasy games and never leave the house.

Top 5 2009 Holiday Moments

5. The realization of what you need to get for a bike after getting a bike. (ie helmet, baby carrier, bike rack, etc). $$$$!

4. Knowing what happened to the cookies left Santa, not to mention the 2 dozen others that "disappeared" along with them...

3. Receiving the a second copy of a movie given to us from the same person earlier in the year.

2. Giving my true love Hotwheels cars...

1. After opening the last gift, my four year old standing up, putting up hands in exasperation, and saying "But I didn't get a triceratops snowglobe!"

Back in the Day...

Once upon a time, I was a preschool aged child learning to ride a bike. Without a helmet! Yet somehow I survived to adulthood, and now must be an example. Yay. Oh, I mean, YAY! I guess we all make sacrifices when we have children, in this case, what's left of my dignity.


At least I'll keep my swiss cheese brain intact.