Thursday, April 30, 2009

Another sweatpants drawer and cancer talk

I want another sweatpants drawer. I'm not sure what else to say about this, except that it kind of sums up the horror my husband feels almost every time I leave the house. I plan on growing up some day, but not until I have to. And... if I get a job at a hospital and get to wear scrubs... that poor man will never have a properly dressed wife.


Now for a completely unrelated story:

Hunter came up last night and asked us to look at his eye because he had a gray line across it. Mike took Hunter's glasses off and said, "Dude, you just need to clean your glasses." I heard Hunter reply, "Oh, because I heard that a gray line in your eye was a sign of cancer."

True story.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

A Quick Note To My Dog

Dear Lola,

You seem like lately you've been losing your mind a little bit.

When you do things like POOP on the bed, it makes it hard to defend you. You know, it's a bed. The one we SLEEP in. Now, while I'm grateful that you made it happen on Mike's side, there is also a limit as to how much I can protect you.

So to be clear: Don't EVER poop on the bed again. M'kay?


The one who protects you.

Monday, April 20, 2009

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Easter egg pictures

Just trying to help out

Did you know that in order to take advantage of crock pot cooking you have to remember to plug it in?

You're welcome.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Lots of stuff all smooshed in a scattered post

Mike landed a job! We are back in the work-force!! Yay!!!

We just went to dinner and this is why I don't like to eat out with my kids:
  • River spilled my water.
  • River doesn't like to sit.
  • River likes to touch everything he shouldn't.
  • River is loud.
  • Hunter won't sit still.
  • Like, I asked him to sit down at least 4 times.
  • The kids always want ridiculous drinks and protest loudly when I say no.
  • Hunter shoved too much food in his mouth and puked at the table.
  • No, really, puked. At the table. While I was eating. Next to him.
  • River asked to go potty.
  • Then he came back to the table and yelled "I just peed in my pants!"
  • I'm sure there were more things, but those are the highlights.

I wish, desperately, that I had a secret blog. It would have great stuff on it. (Just like that sentence there...great...stuff.) I'd tell you the titles, but I'm pretty sure even the titles are too racy/inappropriate/outrageous.

In five short weeks I will be enjoying my last summer vacation. I can't wait!

We're asking our kids if they've ever kissed anybody because I heard one of their classmates had already french kissed. FRENCH KISSED. (I'm not sure if you know this or not, but my capacity to be the parent of a teenager is... well, I'm just not ready yet.)

Oprah had a show about the sex talk and there was talk of vibrators for teenage girls. And I am SO NOT THERE.

Meadow said the other day in the car that Hunter should "really try to sleep as much as possible so you don't have to realize the horrible nightmare your life has become". And I said "Where did that come from?" And she said "Chowder". Which is a cartoon I let my kids watch. Clearly, I should be more selective.

Oprah had a show about single Dads and there was a guy whose wife died a day after she gave birth to their first child. And then all my bitching and pseudo-problems seemed so very small.

So, to sum it all up, life is good and irritating and good and hard and good and weird and good and funny and good and scary. (But mostly good.)

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Read with enthusiasm

Mom! I just peed on my hand!!

Awesome dude. Let's wash them now, okay?

Wednesday, April 8, 2009


River, I need to change your diaper.


Come here NOW please.


Come here or I will come get you.


Fine. I'm going to get you then.


I'm going to lay you down now...

I don't like you! I want to punch you in the face!

(How do you not laugh at that? He's what we like to call, um, expressive.)

Wednesday, April 1, 2009


Remember the water bottle? So, Meadow never ponied up the money and it is mine, all mine. Which means it's River's. I mean, let's be real. What the hell am I gonna do with a High School Musical water bottle?

River is potty training.

Which means he runs around naked. A lot. He was doing his business today and then he grabbed his water bottle and asked me for some water. I said no, and asked him to finish pottying. He is easily distracted and went from the potty to the bottle and the sink and back to the potty and so on. Then I turned around and saw him putting his, um, hose in the bottle. I suppose to fill it?! The conversation that followed went something like this:

"Dude! You can't potty in that! Go put your pants on!"

"I need some water!"



"Because you just put your penis in it."

Just another thing, in an increasing large list of things, that I NEVER pictured myself saying.

Weirdness goes around and comes around

About 100 years ago I worked in radio. Which isn't especially important, except that from time to time at events people would ask for my autograph or something. It was weird. I remember thinking things in my head like That's so sad, or Wow, this person needs real friends, or I hope they're not stalker-ish.

So Jay Cutler and Josh McDaniels and Pat Bowlen all SUCK. This stupid situation is, well, lose-lose for everyone. I wish I could tie them all together in a room and make them stay in there until they get along and figure things out.

How do these things connect?

Well, this morning I was trying to think of all the things that might not suck about Jay Cutler getting traded. This is what I came up with:

  • He kinda looks like one of my nephews and I like to have crushes on our QBs. I can't have a crush on anyone that resembles a nephew. There are some lines even I can't cross.

  • I was happy for Greenie (Mike Greenberg of EPSN's Mike & Mike in the morning) because the Jets might get Cutler and Greenie loves the Jets and he kind of loves Cutler. That's right, I was happy for my imaginary radio friend. Like - that was one of my up-sides to this stupid crappy situation.

So sad.