…and a happy New Year!

First, I’d like to thank Karen for giving me the Less Than 3 Award. Again, I am just humbled. I started this blog to have a good time, to reach out to others, to meet new people. And I guess others feel welcome here, and I am so appreciative. Karen, thank you so much!

Two things:

Please, if you surfed on over here from my old Blogger home, please update your blogroll/links/feed reader. I just don’t want to lose anyone.

And secondly, my husband has taken time off for the first time in 8 years where we have absolutely no plans whatsoever. What this means is that 1)he is home and 2)we’re not traveling and 3)I am so giddy I’m embarrassing myself. So I am taking time off as well. Barring some sort of “Holy Hannah I have to go share this with God and the whole world!” event, I will not return until January 2nd. Maybe the 3rd. My plan for the next 10 days or so is 1)do nothing 2)pour rum into my coke can 3)scrapbook 4)read a book 5)do nothing 6)transition to wine 7)hang with my peeps 8)eat cookies until shortly before I puke. Lather, rinse, repeat.

I probably won’t be reading any blogs either during that time. I may (gasp!) not even turn on my laptop one or more of those days, in an attempt to hang with my peeps.

So to all of you, Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year. Be safe, tell your family you love them, and eat cookies until your stomach swells. Lather, rinse, repeat. I’ll be back in the New Year with all sorts of stories I’m sure. 🙂

Things that make my spinal cord try to leap up my back to throttle my brain

*During my fruitless trip to Walmart two days ago to find teeny tiny crutches for the child who is now speeding around the house like Speedy Gonzales on Red Bull, I came across two pallets of Easter candy. One of Cadbury Creme Eggs, one of Reeses Peanut Butter Cup Eggs. This begs the question: are these really fresh or disgustingly stale?

*I have long since given up ever getting my sons to sit on Santa’s lap.  So, of course, driving into church today, A piped up from the backseat that he’d really like to go see Santa today. O-kay…

*My shopping has long been completed. So, of course, driving into church today, A piped up from the backseat that he’d really like a WHOLE BUNCH OF LEGOS (you know, because the 40,000 he already has just aren’t enough). O-kay…

*I believe I was punked during Communion this morning because I caught JC picking his nose last week. I couldn’t get the lil’ cup o’ wine out of the distribution tray. And it was a “may I please have seconds of Communion Wine” morning because I knew after church we were going to see Santa.

*The nearest mall to us is ginormous. As we crested the hill and could see the parking lot, I believe I may have cried like a little girl. Looked like the Detroit Car Show.

*The line to see the big red guy wasn’t too bad…until we were told that there was a line for the line…and Santa was about to go on break…and it would be over two hours until my kids would actually be sitting on red velvet, begging a complete stranger for more crap. Tom and I pulled rank, took the kids to lunch, and got the hell out of there. There will be emails to Santa this afternoon as I make Christmas cookies. Note to self: never, ever, despite how desperately you want a picture of your charming blond boys on Santa’s lap, EVER go to the mall two days before Christmas ever.again.ever.

God’ll get ya, every time

A learned an important lesson about karma today. When you jump off your bed and try to land on your three year old brother, don’t be surprised if you get hurt. Truly don’t be surprised if your plan goes terribly awry so if instead of landing on your brother, you land on one of the drawer pulls on your dresser (across the room, may I note). And, please, don’t be surprised when your parents laugh at you, not with you, because…

God’ll get ya, every time.

My mom used that phrase on me and my brother an awful lot growing up and A is hearing it an awful lot today. He’s fine, no fracture, just a soft-tissue injury. But the entire day was blown going to the doctor and getting xrays and then searching the tri-state area for a set of crutches small enough for him. I finally found an adjustable cane so he can hobble around. The Tiny Tim jokes are already flying, and boy howdy, Christmas Eve services on Monday are going to have us all chuckling.

“God bless us, every one!”

As long as your karma is good…

Look, something shiny!

Ok, I may be late to the party, but I just saw this. 😉 These guys are outstanding musicians…

Friends don’t let friends have muffin-tops

Oh, the best laid plans…I had planned to get this posted earlier. Instead, I had to drive just slightly north of southeast fumblebuck, which is one town over from “Are We There Yet?” and just a little ways from “How Much Farther?” One hundred and twenty-freaking-five miles round trip. To pick up 1/4 side of beef. Because the processing plant that I can see from my back porch didn’t receive my fax. Hitting Bessie the Hitchhiking Cow would have been a much easier and faster way to get my year’s supply of beef.

And then, a stop to Costco was in order. We were having a coffee crisis..as in, out of.  And then, once I was home with my 80 pounds of frozen cow, my ginormous Costco purchase (including a trip to the attached liquor store, where I had to have a conversation with A that Bud Light was NOT good beer, and in fact, the Smithwicks I was putting into the cart was greatly superior…does anyone else have these conversations with a 6 year old?), I had to find a place for all this foodie greatness. And that entailed cleaning out both freezers and the pantry. And because I am type A, that meant I wiped down the pantry shelves and labeled all the baskets. And then labeled the canisters, because I am really sick of hauling out the brown sugar only to discover it is actually cornmeal. Yes, it is a disease. No, I will not come to your house and do this for you. Go buy a labeler and experience the joy yourself.

But this wee lil’ drive gave me plenty of time to contemplate my rapidly spreading arse. Well, it was either that or do the mental math figuring out just exactly how much gas this trip was burning and the equivalent cost and frankly, considering my rapidly spreading arse was less painful.

Colorado has long been considered to be the fittest state in the country. They say (who is “they?” Do “they” live in Colorado?) that it’s because our weather is excellent for outdoor activities, that communities are committed to bike paths and nature trails, that this is just a healthy place to live. I have a different theory.

Peer pressure.

I figure one lone person, way back in the 1970s or so, took up jogging because his car broke down and he needed a way to get to work. Others met him, thought he was a pretty cool guy, and took up jogging to be like him. And it has just snowballed in the last 30+ years. It mutated from jogging to include bicycling, nordic skiing, snowshoeing…and then blew past the whole “getting from point A to point B” thing to include aerobics, syncronized swimming (I’m not kidding, there are classes for kids in this), mountain climbing, and pretty much any other sweat-inducing activity. Yoga was brought into the mix to stretch out the knots from overexertion.

And then, the peer pressure began. Subtly, of course. Friends talked to one another about how they’re preparing for the Bolder Boulder (kids as young as elementary school prepare for and run this 10k; my parents wouldn’t let me run a 3k fun run because they were afraid it would stunt my growth. Uh-huh…I’m 5’11″…a little growth stunting wouldn’t have been a bad thing), about the day-long family bicycle ride, about the exercise class they’re teaching.

Thus, Colorado is known as a healthy, fit place to live when it’s really just peer pressure rearing it’s ugly, albeit very fit, head.

Our town is getting a New! And! Improved! rec center next week, complete with New! And! Improved! programs. I have two friends teaching Body Pump and RPM classes. One of them has essentially told me that I will be in her class. I nodded and smiled because I had no earthly idea what she was talking about. And then I went and checked out the classes online and promptly passed out. When I came to, I babbled incoherently about being a couch potato, only mashed with heavy cream and butter, then put on my big girl panties and dealt with it.

So beginning in January I will be hitting the New! And! Improved! rec center to create a New! And! Improved! me. I’m out of excuses…the place will have childcare, there are all sorts of classes I’m interested in, and if I’m going to work out, I have to be out of the house. There are too many distractions here, too many ways for me to talk myself out of it. And I have friends who will make sure I don’t hurt myself, who have promised they won’t laugh at me, who will flat-out ask me WTF I’ve been if I don’t show. Sigh…

Peer pressure sucks…at least until swimsuit season.

Hey, you found me!

I don’t know why I did it.

I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to pick up and move. Probably because packing up a house, four people, two businesses, and most of all, my scrapbook room would have sent me hurtling down the road to alcoholism.

And sometimes change is good.

So here I am. There’s still lots of unpacking to do, the new platform to figure out, but for the most part, I’m here now. I plan to post again soon, but just in case I don’t, it’s because I’m taking care of all the things I let slide today as I set this up.

Can’t believe I did this. Pass the word; I’d hate to have people miss me. 😦

A little housekeeping

In my attempts to update this happy lil’ corner of the blogosphere, I’m trying to keep up with things so they don’t overwhelm me to the point I sit in the corner and weep.

The Witty Blogger AwardKat awarded me the Witty Blogger Award this weekend. Woohoo! It’s truly a case of laugh to keep from screaming (and if I wasn’t terrified of Tom’s family reading here, I’d send the link to his sister, who is extraordinary at laughing to keep from screaming). But I really appreciate the award, ’cause I love wittiness. ; )

Tendrils passed me the Merry Christmas Award. Neither one of us has any idea what it is, or what it is for, but I’m all for holiday cheer right now. And fudge.
Merry Christmas Award

DAY TO READ campaign - January 10, 2008

Please notice…I actually updated my blogroll. I beg of you, do not pass out from shock. Next up…new template! {gasp!}

Yo! Jen…whar ya been?

Well, rather than bore you with the minutiae of the last several days, let me sum up:

Friday I played a drinking game with a classroom of 1st graders.*
Saturday I saw Jesus Christ knuckle spelunking and having a booger buffet.**
Sunday I played a recital and in front of God and the whole world redefined “puke-poor performance.***

I am now into winter break. A is out of school until January 3rd, J isn’t out until next week. If I am a strong woman, a good mom, I won’t allow my sons to play on the computer until their eyes bleed, but I am only a moderately strong woman, and only a decent mom, so they’ll probably play on the computer until their eyes go bloodshot, shortly before an eyeball begins to spurt. Charming image, I’m sure.

My plan is to update my blogroll and play with my template over winter break, but we all know about best laid plans. I appear to have “offspring-induced ADD” and am unable to concentrate on anything of importance for more than two minutes before my attention is ripped away to something more pressing, like an eyeball on the verge of spurting. So I will attempt to play with the site; we’ll see how it goes. I can’t figure out how to save my widgets so they don’t all disappear into the ether as I change templates, so until I figure that out I’m stuck (help please?). I’d also like to know how to put audio clips on the site. So if you share those lil’ pieces o’ information, I’ll…uh…send you e-flowers or something. 🙂

Uh-oh…my spidey sense is tingling…methinks A’s eyeballs are getting past the bloodshot stage…

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*Ok, not really a drinking game, but it was. We played “pass the book” (not pass the buck, this isn’t politics). All the kids had a wrapped book in front of them, I read a book to them, and every time the word “snowman” came up, they had to pass their book to the person on the right. They also learned the meaning of the word “psych!” as “snowball” came up several times, and they had to pass back. Now, tell me this ain’t a drinking game in disguise!

**No joke. I was sitting at a stoplight, talking to Tom, and saw JC in the car behind me. I had barely gotten past the thought of, “hey, he looks like the Big Dude” before he had, uh, “lunch.” I think I may have thrown up a little in my mouth.

***I can’t remember the last time I played so poorly. Freshman year of high school maybe. Holy Hannah, it was ugly. Tom said no one noticed, but damn, I did. If you’re only as good as your last performance, I suck. I have less than a month to get over my enormous suckatude (wow, let’s see how many hits I get from that phrase!), because I’m playing in the Colorado Mahlerfest (yay!!!!) and the music is exposed enough that I can’t have suckage on my mind.

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Now, really, gotta save A from himself…and the Dark Side of the Force (yes, Star Wars Lego). I’m so tired of a six year old telling me about Star Wars, and it’s only the beginning, I know!

Random mom ailment #132: Carpool Ankle

Symptoms: A weakness in the right ankle, a “funkiness,” felt mostly when ascending and descending stairs, walking, chasing children. Occurs usually in the right ankle, but if the carpool vehicle is a manual transmission, the left ankle may be afflicted as well.


Cause: Long periods of time spent shuttling children hither and yon, most often to schools and various therapies. The twisting motion of accelerator to brake, repeat ad nauseum, is thought to contribute to Carpool Ankle.

Those most at risk: Carpool Ankle afflicts mostly mothers, though fathers and other caregivers are at risk if enough time is spent behind the wheel shuttling children.

Diagnosis: Carpool Ankle is a diagnosis of elimination. If there was no recent injury, no butt-kicking using the afflicted ankle, and no recent occurrence of “foot in mouth disease,” AND there have been long hours spent behind the wheel shuttling children, then it’s likely Carpool Ankle.

Treatment: Complete and total rest of the afflicted ankle, preferably up on a feather pillow. The patient will have a much higher incidence of recovery if a glass of wine and gentle foot rub are also included in treatment.

Comorbid afflictions include, but are not limited to:

iPod ear: A ringing in the ears from turning the adult music and podcasts up loud enough to drown out the unending Star Wars arguments discussions and crappy kid music from the backseat. Treatment includes getting better headphones.

Bumspreadism: An enlargement and spreading of the backside due to long amounts of time behind the wheel shuttling children. Treatment includes getting said bum to the gym.

Mustbeanadultitis: An cramping of the left hand (though in other countries it may be the right hand) to avoid flipping off the other idiot drivers while shuttling children. Treatment includes going to one’s happy place.

Vehiclebruxism: The much gnashing of teeth that occurs when the children being shuttled ask for gum or mints for the eleventy billionth time in under a mile. Treatment includes chomping on the gum the children being shuttled were told was not available.

Treatment for aforementioned ailments is much rest, silence, and wine. Actually, that is the preferred treatment for all that ails ya.

Feeling the love

Robin over at Around the Island has given me a wonderful gift: the Less Than 3 award.

Less Than 3 Award(hint: if you look at it sideways, it looks like a heart)

I was blown away by this yesterday. I’ve been feeling a wee leetle bit grumpy lately, for absolutely no reason, and then this came my way. Robin and I have become friends, for we both have difficult children and are desperately trying to not go completely mental. Oh, and a belief that red wine cures what ails ya. 😉 So Robin, thank you so much.

Now, I’m to pass the love on to another. Now, I’d pass it on to Robin in a heartbeat, but I’m pretty sure I’m to pass it along to someone new. I’m sending it to Hula Doula, for teaching us that loving our fellow man is more than lip service, especially this time of year. Please, under her categories, read the posts under “stories that move me.” HD is someone special. Go give her some bloggy love.