Please Stand By...

I'd like to post something fun and sassy here tonight, but I've decided to use my creative energy to work on my novel.

(Raises a root beer in memory of her newly departed coworkers.) Here's to people who follow their dreams...

Bueller? Bueller?

Hey, um, I know you guys are out there somewhere. More than 50 people have stopped by in the last week, which I kinda feel bad about because I've been sick in bed for days and haven't posted anything. So maybe that's what's going on with everyone else, too. 'Cause, um, nobody's commented in weeks. Do I have to post something controversial just to get a peep? Maybe you're all on vacation.

I'd like to say I'll post much more often now that people are stopping by, but the next couple of weeks are going to be hellaciously busy, and I just don't know what kind of time and computer access I'll have.

We'll see how that turns out. Bought my tickets to St. Louis; trying to figure out how to make my writers group meeting on the 10th before I zoom to the airport. Have many doctor appointments, school arrangements, and meetings out my ears in the next 3 weeks, plus my anniversary (7 years!) and my birthday (more than 7 years) and my babies starting school... It just gets busier from there. Life's an adventure, and I'm enjoying the ride.

Kid Quotes: Baby Babble #2

I love that my Punkin Boy is so verbal. He's picked up his daddy's habit of quoting from movies and books, and has even developed the ability to improvise to fit the situation. Example: Today at lunch, he took a look at his peanut-butter sandwich, poked it experimentally, then exclaimed:

"Honey! Honey? Let's not be so silly... Now lemon, that's different."

Anybody catch that quote? He's never even seen the "Alice in Wonderland" cartoon. But he does a good impression of the Mad Hatter nonetheless.

And Now, the Status Report...

I probably committed a terrible breach of netiquette with my last post. Go ahead and tell me I'm a jerk; I'll probably just laugh like a cheap drunk. 'Cause I probably haven't mentioned it lately, but I'm still on heavy drugs.

Yep, I am. Ibuprofen: 800 mg, 3 times a day. Percocet, 5-10 mg, every 5-6 hours. I try not to use the higher doses more than necessary. I've seen Rush Limbaugh. (Ever notice that his name ends in "ugh"? For good reason.)

I'm also still in heavy pain. But fortunately, my manager and the HR director were able to get me a comfy new orthopedic task chair (available by prescription--who knew?), so now I don't hurt nearly as much as I used to after sitting for 6 hours. (Oh, my achy-breaky back!)

#1 Son is gone to "Mommy's" for the last half of summer, and we're trying not to worry too much. I hope she doesn't leave him with child molesters again, but you just never know. So far, the plan is for her to bring him back the day before he starts at a totally new school. Does this strike anyone as reasonable? Well, we wouldn't want her to have to take a day off work for him. That would be inconvenient. What a stinker.

Pirate Boy is geared up and SO ready for kindergarten. Punkin Boy has no idea what's about to hit him: daycare is a foreign concept to him, and I don't think he's gonna like it. We're looking around for decent places, but this town is a bit short on useful items like safe and affordable childcare. OK, forget the affordable. Just 4 days a week for him & 4 before-kindergarten days for his brother are going to run us something like $1200 a month. How do people manage to afford daycare AND food? After a while, I bet eating the children starts to sound reasonable...

OK, going back to the subject of foreign concepts, take a minute to read this beauty of a rant from Kory O. Lovely, darling.

And now I'm off. Y'all come back, now, ya hear?

I'm Watching You

You might have noticed that I got a spiffy new visit-counter over there in the sidebar. Nearly 40 people have stopped by in the last week, which would be cause for suicide among the "real" bloggers (not mentioning any names and not that I'd call them self-aggrandizing megalomaniacs, 'cause I'm just jealous). But it's actually better than I thought, so I'm doing the little happy dance and blogging more often. Maybe that's how the mega-maniacs got that way. I don't know. Will keep you posted. Watch this space.

On the Road

OK, I may be insane, but it's official (unless the PHB finds out and decides to sabotage our year's budget by cancelling): I'm going to St. Louis in August. On the 10th and 11th, specifically. Anyone who lives in the area and feels like dropping by for a chat, or dinner, or lunch, or whatever, drop me a line and I'll tell you where and when.

Hooray!!!

I got my piano cover back! I was getting worried; Punkin Baby ripped several keys off this weekend, and I almost couldn't get them back on. The cover is still marred, but fortunately, it's in a spot that doesn't show-- unless you have it down over the keys. Sigh. But that's just typical for this shop. Never, ever buy a piano from a guy who talks like Wolfman Jack.

Fun-demented

OK, I've changed my mind: I can live without the frilled lizard. (I mean, where would I keep it?) I want one of these for my birthday! To see a close-up of the graph on the back of the shirt, read this open letter to the Kansas School Board. My husband and I laughed till the tears streamed down our faces. OK, it happens a lot when we deal with people who confuse public education with religious instruction. But this one's intentionally funny.

Go. Go now. Read the letter. Browse the merchandise. Bust a gut. Hee.

In the Mood for Another Meme

All righty, people. Just for a change of pace, here's something the cat dragged in: What book am I?

You're The Handmaid's Tale!

by Margaret Atwood

An outraged feminist, you have been oppressed and even silenced in your life, fueling your fury against the society as it stands. Your role has been strictly defined by society and you are almost certainly unsatisfied with it. You have some vague idea of how this has come to be, but insufficient power to stop it, let alone reverse the trend. And somehow you blame yourself for everything because people ask you to. Beware people renaming your nation a Republic.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Surprise, surprise. Here's another good one: My husband is Lolita. Oy.

We Can Be Heroes

Huzzah! Hoist the mizzen, Mister Cavendish! Our little men at bedtime.



Me putting Pirate Boy to bed tonight: "That's right: no swords in bed... oops, found some treasure; please put it away in the treasure chest... OK, hats off now..." And so on. I love being a pirate mama.

I Am NOT a Redneck, My Neighbors Are

I never realized how much our cul-de-sac looks like a used-car graveyard until I got this picture of Pirate Boy developed. And the next-door neighbor's Camaro isn't even home. But at least they've put the wheels back on their pickup.


-- Just sign me "High-class dame trapped in low-class neighborhood"

More Birthday Fun

Pirates capture the king and queen, and my punkin plays dragon.



The Man, of course, is my knight in shining armor.

Punkin Pictures

As promised, here are a couple of photos of Punkin Baby's birthday a whole, what, 6 or 7 weeks ago? Here's our bouncing baby boy-- now a big boy of 2:


So energetic, this boy. I still don't know why this balloon didn't pop one of the many times he flung his whole 30 pounds onto it with all the force his massive muscles could muster.

He really seemed to understand the whole "birthday" concept this year. And he was so cute about everything. "So much birthday goodness... where do I start?"

No shameless plugs or product placement was involved in the making of this photo. Honest.

Baby Babble: Quote of the Day #2

Punkin Boy is quite a talker. Yesterday he was reciting "Green Eggs and Ham" to himself; today it was "Labyrinth" quotes. But my favorite baby babble (which is a totally unfair appellation, since he's a quite coherent 2-year-old and not really a baby) happened recently during a conversation he had with The Man...

TM: Punkin Boy, stop jumping on the bed.
PB: But Daddy, I'm a monkey!

We oughta be more careful about our pet names.

Quote of the Day

In all my birthday postings, I didn't mention the funniest thing that happened that day. I was in my room, so I only heard it; the boys were playing with something in the living room. The item in question was certainly something belonging to Pirate Boy, something special for his day, but #1 Son was barging in and taking over in that "I'm twice your age and twice your size/a 300-pound gorilla sleeps where he wants" way. Pirate Boy stopped and said in his hands-on-hips/ever-so-exasperated voice, "No, [big brother's name], it's my birthday-- I'm the main character. You're the sidekick."

Yeah. Bravo, little man.