Why didn't I do this with the dog?

Several weeks ago, Mimi asked me about getting another pet. A gerbil. Or two. After I smacked her laughed, I told her no. Whine, whine, beg, beg, plead, plead, plead. Still no. Then genius hit me. I suggested that she ask one of her friends who owns a gerbil if they are going on vacation this summer and need a pet sitter. 

Last night, Mimi's friend dropped her gerbils off at our house for the next ten days. As I was clearing a space for them, I started thinking about how fucking genius I am. I mean, it's like we are borrowing her friend's pet. You can't just ask someone if you can borrow their pet so you can play with it for a week. People don't really  DO that. But that's exactly what we are doing. 

Then I realized what a fucking idiot I am for not thinking about this sooner. Like when we got our cat. Or our dog. Fuck! When we got our kids, for that matter. Why the hell didn't we borrow someone else's dog/cat/kids before we committed to taking them? Now that we have them, there's no going back. (not that we would if we could) (yeah, right) (not really) (ok, well, sometimes maybe)

But DAMN it's nice having a pet that the kids love and play with and take care for a week, and just when they start to lose interest we can give it back. Kind of the way grandparents must feel. Shit, I can't wait until I'm a grandparent. 

Just in case you've missed it

On the off-chance you aren't my Facebook friend and haven't already been inundated with pictures of my sexy bald head, I thought I'd post it for you. My ego is already the size of Texas because of all of the compliments I've gotten so far, so don't feel compelled to tell me how beautiful I am. 

I'm the one on the left

And, if we aren't Facebook friends, why not? You must be pretty fantastic if you still read this blog, so why not take our relationship to the next level? Shoot me an email.

Happy Father's day

I don't have one of my own. That's ok. Don't be sad for me. 

What I do have is a great husband who is an even greater dad. 

I'm glad that my kids have something I never had.

I love him.

wait...what?

So, she wants me to go to the grocery store, but she doesn't want to go with me. She knows how much I loathe that place. Duh, if I enjoyed going there, we'd have groceries. And? Did I mention that she wants me to go NOW? Yeah, not when I finish what I'M doing. Now. Or like, in 15 minutes, K? Not K. 

"Can you make a list?"

"..."

"Will you plan out some meals to cook?"

"..."

I'm in the other room helping the younger girls clean their room. It's very muchly needed. Muchly. I'm getting tired of Vivian whining about cleaning up HER mess. I'm not whining. I'm cleaning a messy room that I only enter to tuck-in or read-to. Oh yeah, and I occasionally have the chance to vacuum in there. If the floor isn't covered in kidcrap. So, the last thing I need is to go run errands. I need to finish this task.

But I'm on the computer now. I've done a respectable amount of work in the girl's room (Is the apostrophe in the right place?). I'm taking a break now. To vent.

I have such a hard time getting tasks completed around here. My kids are to blame. No they're not. That's too easy. It's me. Distractions. Clutter. It's hard to focus on one task long enough to get it finished. If I shut everything out/don't talk to anyone/kick the kids out of the house/listen to the iPod/drink tons of caffeine/make the TV babysit the kids I can get it done. 

Thanks for still reading this blog. You mofos are great. I need to get off of here and crack some skulls the whip. 

So much fun for us

Yesterday, I spent $80 on a one-wheeled bike. I guess technically, it's not a BIke. Is it? inequity I guess it's more like a half-bike. But not really half, because it has pedals and handlebars. Only the handlebars aren't for steering. They are only for holding on. Do you have a good visual yet?

NO?

I wish I could have gotten a picture of us on it, because I'm pretty sure we looked AMAZING on it. 

Vivian and I.

I bought a tandem bike trailer. It attaches to my seat post. Two people riding a bike with three wheels. Shit. I guess that makes it a TRIke, huh? inequity? 

The awesome part wasn't how we looked. The awesome part was how we cooperated, learned, and trusted each other. That was the best part EVER! 

When we first started out, we were so wobbly. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to handle the bike (trike) with both of us on it. I didn't feel very confident, and we only pushed along at 6 or so miles per hour. I'm not sure Viv wanted to go too fast either, because I think I did all the work. For the first half of our ride.

After we took a break and turned around, something clicked for us. We started off so smoothly, I almost forgot that we were connected. Before I knew it, we were speeding along at 13+ MPH. No wobbles. No shakes. No hesitation. She even 'made' me cruise so she could push us along. 

We only did 6 miles yesterday on the B&A trail. From one end to the other, it's 15.5 miles. I love riding my bike, and so does Viv. I'm pretty sure I know what we are going to be doing much more of. As I'm writing this, she's asking if we can go back today. I wouldn't be surprised if we biked from one end to the other and back this summer. 

Turkey Sandwich

Lame. I know.

Rated R

Contrary to popular belief, an 'R' rating doesn't mean something is inappropriate, bad, or unsuitable. 

Though, I guess it depends who you ask.

No more procrastination

I don't know why I do it to myself. I can see how much coffee is left in the container. I can tell that it's running low. I know how much goes into the coffee maker to make the perfectly brewed two huge cups/three regular size cups of coffee. Yesterday, I knew that there wasn't enough in the container for today's coffee. So, why didn't I get more while I was out yesterday?

Is it because I like to live on the edge and scrape the last coffee grounds out of the cracks of the container in hopes of filling the basket with enough to make that perfect cup? No. It's not like 6 coffee grounds is going to make ANY difference.

Is it because I like to drink weak coffee? Because I don't. I'd rather drink nothing. Weak coffee makes me angry, enraged, offended. Why do I have such a strong reaction to weak coffee? I think I might need to explore this, perhaps with a therapist.

Maybe it's the lord's way of telling me not to drink coffee in the first place. Naaah, you mofos know I don't believe that shit. 

I guess it's because I'm a crazy procrastinator who really wants good, expensive, Ethiopian coffee and hasn't been to the fancy-schmansy coffee shop to get it. I guess today's the day. Because I'd rather HAVE coffee than NOT HAVE any. 

You know what it's like when you start to watch a show and you really like and then you find out that there's five seasons that you can watch all at once?

That's how I feel about my new favorite podcast, Skeptoid . There are over 250 episodes to listen to. I feel like I just hit the jackpot.

Have you ever listened to it? You should. Especially if you're one of those people who forwards emails about the newest computer virus that is threatening to destroy the earth,or if you forward those dumb chain letters that claim that Bill Gates is going to pay for your college education if you add your name to the bottom of the list and forward the message to 80 of your closest friends, or if you repost those stupid 'awareness' status messages on facebook. I could go on forever. You get the picture.

Skeptoid takes a critical look at everyday issues. The host, Brian Dunning, examines these things from a scientific point of view and explains to the average person (the non-scientist) how to evaluate the facts and determine for yourself if the claim is true or not.

I have only listened to the first 20 episodes. They are pretty short. Most of them are under 10 minutes. If you don't want to listen to it, you can read it on the website. I like his dry sense of humor, so I prefer to listen. Here are a few that I've enjoyed so far:

Wheatgrass Juice

Killing Bigfoot with Bad Science

Religion as a Moral Center

Cell Phones on Airplanes

What do you think about it?
What are YOU skeptical about?

She's 10

I now have three kids in double digits. Mimi, my sweet girl, is 10 today. Let me give you just one example of how special this kid is:

She has a child in her class who has autism. He is on a strict gluten/dairy/soy free diet. Whenever we volunteer to bring a snack for any classroom function, she always considers him. Today, instead of cupcakes, she chose to bring in a treat to celebrate her birthday that he can have also. She didn't want him to feel left out. 

She's always doing such thoughtful things for other people. I love her. 

Have you ever eaten Ethiopian food before?

You already know who these people are. My boobs look pretty good in this picture, don't they?

My handsome brother and his beautiful girlfriend. We got her hooked on this delicious food.

Mel and I shared this huge plate of yummy food.

Cheeeeeese!

The Prodigal Child: Yes, you really can come back home.

For the past two years, I have been personal trainer to the stars. OK, maybe they aren't REAL stars, but they did come from L.A. And they were MY stars. I have been an excellent trainer for not-so-excellent pay. I didn't mind because:

1. I was learning on the job and for a little while, I wasn't really that good.
2. I loved it! 
3. I loved the people I trained.
4. I had great coworkers.
5. I had complete schedule flexibility and autonomy.

I was pretty comfortable with my cheese. It tasted good, and was easy to find. On Monday, someone moved my cheese. Admittedly, the supply had started smelling weird. It was starting to spoil, and it didn't taste as good as it used to. As a result, I cut back my consumption of the L.A. Cheese. I shouldn't have been surprised when the Big Cheese boss over at L.A. Cheese told me that I was being cut. 

Over the past several weeks, I had been thinking about a different kind of cheese altogether. I even recommended this different brand of cheese to some of my fellow L.A. Cheese consumers. Today, I went back to the place that taught me to enjoy cheese, New Cheese. I have always had an affinity for this type of cheese. Even when I was getting my cheese at L.A. Cheese, I missed the cheesy times I had at New Cheese. The wonderful Cheese bosses over at New Cheese welcomed me back with open arms.

The best thing is that I am going to be getting MORE MONEY!!! Another best thing is that I am going to be working with one of my favorite people. Another best thing is that I have a place to train my old stars if they decide they don't want to keep going to L.A. Cheese. I hope to see my old stars at New Cheese. AND I will have new stars. I can't have too many stars in my life.

Who moved my 'got damn cheese?

A change is on the horizon. I only wish I was ahead of it instead of trying to figure out how to work around it. Dammit, change sucks when you're comfortable with the status quo. 

As Haw says, "Smell the cheese often, so you know when it's getting old." As I look back, I can see that the cheese was getting old. I can also see that piece by piece, it was getting smaller and less satisfying. It's time to look for the cheese somewhere else. It's time to let go of the old cheese and enjoy the taste of new cheese.

How is YOUR cheese holding up? What IS your 'cheese'?

Takin' My Cookies Back

I text all amazed

Am I the last one to find out that you can send a text message to donate money to help with relief efforts in Japan? It's so easy. It takes a couple minutes, and the charges just show up on your cell phone bill. 

Everyone texts. At least, everyone I know. And if you don't, here's your chance to start.

So, here is your invitation to donate $10. Pick a charity. 

I'll wait a minute while you complete your transaction. 

.......

Ok, that was easy, wasn't it? Now for the fun part. Leave a comment and let me know that you donated. Of course, I have no way to verify that you actually did it. You could be a big, fat, liar for all I know. But, I will randomly pick one person and give away a homemade knitted cotton market bag. 

What's wrong with this picture?

It was windy on Friday. I don't know how windy because I don't have the technology available at my house to measure wind gusts. Let's just go with very.

I want you smart mofos to look at the picture below. 

Do you see anything wrong with the picture? Look harder. See it? Keeeeep lookin'. 

MmmmHmmmm....yep. Look at the left side of the picture. See how there's an empty space above where the cars are? Now look to the right. All the way to the right. See the trampoline? Yeah, the big motherfuckin' tramp? It's trying to escape. It's headed down the driveway. 

See? It didn't have much farther to go before it headed off across the street.

This is the same tramp that Mimi fell off of and broke her arm several weeks ago. She wasn't even jumping on it. She was trying to zip up the 'safety' net. I'm beginning to think that maybe she was thrown off. By a possessed demon tramp. And now it feels guilty for hurting a kid, and it's trying to run away. Don't run away silly tramp. 

We like jumping on you. Well, not we. They do. The kids. I don't like jumping on you because you make me piss my pants. EVERY TIME I JUMP ON YOU. Even when I take precautionary measures like peeing before I jump, I still pee. By the third jump, I have to get off and change my pants. My kids don't know this bit of information. They just think I am afraid of the tramp. I tell them I don't like to jump on it. I feel sad when I say that because it's a LIE. Who doesn't like jumping on a tramp? If it weren't for the pissing, I'd be on that bitch every day. 

Well, I guess my secret's out. Patricia reads this blog. Now she knows I'm a pisser. Please don't tell the other kids. Or I'll post a link to your awkward picture post on your FB wall. Mmmmkay?

It's a hug!

I've been sick since Monday. Coughing, sniffling, and achy. Oh! How I ache! I can't drive because it hurts my hands to grip the steering wheel. I also can't focus on the road because focusing makes me want to close my eyes and sleep. My joints don't hurt too much as long as I stay on ibuprofen. I forgot to take it yesterday because I felt good when I woke up. By lunchtime, I was almost in tears because every joint in my body ached. 

Needless to say, I'm a pretty boring mom this week. Vivian and I were getting some snacks to take downstairs to eat while we waste hours on the couch, when I asked her to give me something. 

Puzzled, she asked, "What?" 

I promptly replied, "It's big, and warm, and-" 

"A HUG!! IT'S A HUG!!"

"Yes dear, it's a hug. That's what I'd like you to give me."

"You got it mom!"

And I mustered the energy to hold her in a full-body legs wrapped around me hug. She's the greatest!

What I found on my bathroom mirror this morning

He's so romantic.

Listen to the Bishop

Here's another excellent podcast from the mofos at Mormon Expression. Never listened before? It's ok. You won't catch cooties.


Know what's funny? I'm more interested in Mormon things now that I don't believe than I ever was as a believer. I think it's because of the insightful, thought-provoking discussions they have and the interesting people they interview.


Why are you still here? Get 'ta steppin'.

watch what happens

I haven't been blogging much because I've been busy doing shit and going places and seeing shit. That, and, I need a new laptop because mine suddenly decided that it wasn't going to do the internet anymore.WTF?!? What good is a stupid computer if it doesn't DO the internet? So, I'm chained to the desktop that's in the middle of EVERYTHING so everyfuckinone in my family can see what I'm up to. I like to blog in secret, so I haven't had much opportunity. And it's cold in my house where the desktop it. You mofos know how I feel about being cold. 

But most of all, I haven't had much to say. I'm just plodding along in my life, doing things that bring me happiness, but aren't necessarily worth mentioning to all of you people.

Happy G-hog Day!