Two of my girls decided to start their own Mommy Blogs. No, they're not mothers (Sophia is 11, Elannah is 9), but for some reason, they started blogs about being mothers of a couple kids each. They thought it would be fun. What I find hilarious is that they have absolutely no idea what motherhood is really like, so someone reading their blogs who didn't know they weren't actually parents would probably try to call DCFS on them. Although the blogs are meant to be funny, maybe it's actually a really horrible commentary on me. Or, as I'd rather think of it, a flattering imitation of how absolutely literary and intelligently humorous I am. Yes, that's what I'm going with.
Husband and I went to try out for our city's Choral Arts Society yesterday evening. We went to one of their recent performances and were blown away by it, so when the director announced try-outs were Saturday (yesterday), I was very eager. Husband, not so much; but, because he's a good sport, he came with me. The only reason he's not as excited is because he doesn't sight-read music, although he can sing just fine. Plus, the rehearsals are all on Saturday evenings.
The rehearsal was so much fun. The people are so kind (including Linnea, who was the source of many witty and hilarious comments), and the music is seriously challenging. I'm not sure if we actually are in or not, though, because we missed the part where we had to stand up and sing "The Star Spangled Banner" a cappella in front of the group.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
THESE SMALL HOURS!!!!!!
As my oldest daughter, Sian, climbed wearily into the car after yet another long, 12-hour day of school and play practice, I realized I had never taught her a fundamental method of relieving stress: singing as loud as you can to rock music. At least, I had never forced her to actually do it, although she's had to suffer through my own stress-relieving sessions. After telling her to belt it, I cranked up my current mixed CD and we sang lustily along with ColdPlay and Rob Thomas. She doesn't have as much experience as I do in quelling the feeling of self-consciousness during song-belting sessions, but though she laughed, she persevered. When we got home, she gave me a hug and thanked me.
Am I a good parent, or what?
Am I a good parent, or what?
Thursday, April 8, 2010
News Through a Haze
No politics. I promise. I'm way too tired.
News:
I have almost perfected the art of making really tender and flaky Southern-style biscuits.
My supervisor called me "the best outsource writer in the world" today. I put that on my calendar.
Elannah and Sophia both tried out for Annie, and only one of them made it, despite both of them getting call-backs. That was a little painful. Elannah, the lucky one, is an orphan now (not literally) and has a grueling rehearsal schedule. She has wanted to act for a long time, so I hope she's happy.
Husband finished the last re-work of his novel. It should be formatted and sent to publishers soon. He is not expecting anything, but at least he wrote the book.
Gabrielle bought a cat with her birthday money. It was either a cat or a guinea pig, which her sister, who shares a room with her, was not at all excited about. The new cat, Lincoln (or Link, for short), has now been schooled by older and larger Myles. Lincoln knows his place now. I find him mostly adorable.
My part-time job is taking me 8 hours a day.
We got a Kinetico water softener installed. My hair is so soft and silky, Sophia's dry hands are healing up, and I don't feel all that scale in my intestines anymore. It's wonderful.
That's it, folks.
News:
I have almost perfected the art of making really tender and flaky Southern-style biscuits.
My supervisor called me "the best outsource writer in the world" today. I put that on my calendar.
Elannah and Sophia both tried out for Annie, and only one of them made it, despite both of them getting call-backs. That was a little painful. Elannah, the lucky one, is an orphan now (not literally) and has a grueling rehearsal schedule. She has wanted to act for a long time, so I hope she's happy.
Husband finished the last re-work of his novel. It should be formatted and sent to publishers soon. He is not expecting anything, but at least he wrote the book.
Gabrielle bought a cat with her birthday money. It was either a cat or a guinea pig, which her sister, who shares a room with her, was not at all excited about. The new cat, Lincoln (or Link, for short), has now been schooled by older and larger Myles. Lincoln knows his place now. I find him mostly adorable.
My part-time job is taking me 8 hours a day.
We got a Kinetico water softener installed. My hair is so soft and silky, Sophia's dry hands are healing up, and I don't feel all that scale in my intestines anymore. It's wonderful.
That's it, folks.
Monday, March 22, 2010
I Vote NOOOOOO!
Ooooh. I've got some things to say about this Healthcare Bill. I've been just stewing about it all day. While I don't have time to write the full 50-page essay entitled, "Why This Bill Stinks," let me just cut the suspense you feel in awaiting my opinion by saying,
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Don't worry. I have a blog post draft saved on the subject, but I'm very incoherent right now. I have to order my thoughts, but I have to wait until I've made dinner and attended to the sick children littering the house, moaning and complaining about sore throats and fevers and ear infections. Sheesh. Suck it up!
(I'm kidding, of course. My poor kids. If it's not the flu, it's Strep Throat and ear infections and asthma emergencies. Who knew moving 45 miles could make you so sick? I'm just lucky I have been able to stay healthy and take care of them, the little darlings, who are about to be sent letters stating that the truant officers have been called because of all the missed days of school.)
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Don't worry. I have a blog post draft saved on the subject, but I'm very incoherent right now. I have to order my thoughts, but I have to wait until I've made dinner and attended to the sick children littering the house, moaning and complaining about sore throats and fevers and ear infections. Sheesh. Suck it up!
(I'm kidding, of course. My poor kids. If it's not the flu, it's Strep Throat and ear infections and asthma emergencies. Who knew moving 45 miles could make you so sick? I'm just lucky I have been able to stay healthy and take care of them, the little darlings, who are about to be sent letters stating that the truant officers have been called because of all the missed days of school.)
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Only Two Easy Payments of $19.99!
Because I have had thousands of emails recently from people asking about my skincare routine, I have decided to tell you what I do to keep myself looking 25.
That was a test. Did you catch all my mistakes?
Firstly, you never start a sentence with "because." Why? Because those grammarians never think outside the box, that's why! And then they force the rest of us to follow their little rules in order to get paid. Jerks.
Secondly, I exaggerated slightly about the number of emails. I have never actually had any emails asking about my skincare routine. I believe I forced someone to listen to it once, though.
Thirdly, as much as I would LOOOOVE to look 25 and keep the mental age and wisdom of 38, I simply do not. Look 25, that is. I am certainly very wise, however. (that was also a test. What was wrong with the last sentence?)
But what the heck? For lack of anyone telling me not to, I will reveal to you my skincare routine.
I try to base my entire routine on this theme: "What do I have in the kitchen that isn't going to cost me an arm and a leg and may possibly finally stop these stupid, stupid little zits that still pop up on my decidedly UN-teenager face?" It's a long theme, but I liked it enough to cross stitch it and stick it to my refrigerator. (another test! if you know me well enough, you know that cross stitch is on my list of things influenced by the devil.)
Therefore, here is what I have found works for me:
Removing Eye Makeup: vegetable shortening. Follow with a Face Wash to remove the raccoon look the shortening will give you.
Face Wash: 2 tsp. glycerin (Walmart carries liquid glycerin in the pharmacy), 2 tsp cornstarch, 1/2 cup water; whisk together in small pot and heat until glycerin is melted enough to mix with cornstarch and water. Do not boil. Cool and place in really stylish sour cream container with a cottage cheese container lid. (Alternatively, if I can afford it, I love the Isagenix Isaderm Facial Wash. (Phase 1))
Face Scrub: 1 tsp cornmeal with a little milk. Exfoliate once or twice a week, if you remember.
Moisturizing Facial: 1 or 2 tsp plain yogurt. Slather on your face (do NOT avoid eye and mouth areas) and let it sit until you've watched an entire episode of The Simpsons on Hulu. If you've seen all the new episodes, play Spider Solitaire until you win three games. You could do something more useful, of course, but if you're pampering your face, take a minute and waste out, for goodness' sake. Wash off with warm water.
Also, I make sure I drink lots of hard water (we've got the hardest water in the country right here! Mmmmm. Tastes so good. When I move, I can feel the scale rubbing around in my intestines), eat the occasional fruit, and try not to become an absolute pig when my in-laws come to town with three suitcases full of English chocolate and treats. I said I try.
That's it! Easy peasy! I'm thinking about creating some sort of infomercial.
That was a test. Did you catch all my mistakes?
Firstly, you never start a sentence with "because." Why? Because those grammarians never think outside the box, that's why! And then they force the rest of us to follow their little rules in order to get paid. Jerks.
Secondly, I exaggerated slightly about the number of emails. I have never actually had any emails asking about my skincare routine. I believe I forced someone to listen to it once, though.
Thirdly, as much as I would LOOOOVE to look 25 and keep the mental age and wisdom of 38, I simply do not. Look 25, that is. I am certainly very wise, however. (that was also a test. What was wrong with the last sentence?)
But what the heck? For lack of anyone telling me not to, I will reveal to you my skincare routine.
I try to base my entire routine on this theme: "What do I have in the kitchen that isn't going to cost me an arm and a leg and may possibly finally stop these stupid, stupid little zits that still pop up on my decidedly UN-teenager face?" It's a long theme, but I liked it enough to cross stitch it and stick it to my refrigerator. (another test! if you know me well enough, you know that cross stitch is on my list of things influenced by the devil.)
Therefore, here is what I have found works for me:
Removing Eye Makeup: vegetable shortening. Follow with a Face Wash to remove the raccoon look the shortening will give you.
Face Wash: 2 tsp. glycerin (Walmart carries liquid glycerin in the pharmacy), 2 tsp cornstarch, 1/2 cup water; whisk together in small pot and heat until glycerin is melted enough to mix with cornstarch and water. Do not boil. Cool and place in really stylish sour cream container with a cottage cheese container lid. (Alternatively, if I can afford it, I love the Isagenix Isaderm Facial Wash. (Phase 1))
Face Scrub: 1 tsp cornmeal with a little milk. Exfoliate once or twice a week, if you remember.
Moisturizing Facial: 1 or 2 tsp plain yogurt. Slather on your face (do NOT avoid eye and mouth areas) and let it sit until you've watched an entire episode of The Simpsons on Hulu. If you've seen all the new episodes, play Spider Solitaire until you win three games. You could do something more useful, of course, but if you're pampering your face, take a minute and waste out, for goodness' sake. Wash off with warm water.
Also, I make sure I drink lots of hard water (we've got the hardest water in the country right here! Mmmmm. Tastes so good. When I move, I can feel the scale rubbing around in my intestines), eat the occasional fruit, and try not to become an absolute pig when my in-laws come to town with three suitcases full of English chocolate and treats. I said I try.
That's it! Easy peasy! I'm thinking about creating some sort of infomercial.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Am I Just A Little Stressed?
I am trying to keep my brain sharp amidst the hubbub of household chores and using the thesaurus so much that I think it's become sentient (alert, cognizant, knowing) and is signing a petition to unionize.
Keeping my mind sharp mostly consists of listening to the radio talk shows that bore my children to death while I throw together yet another dinner involving pasta. I have also read several books lately, but I can't claim that they've been the sort that do more than amuse.
Yet my brain is so sharp that it sometimes wakes me up in the middle of the night to remind me to worry about things. A Strident Little Voice in my head (a voice that sounds suspiciously like my scary first-grade teacher) starts repeating over and over that the most important thing in the universe to stress about RIGHT NOW is (for instance) that I get those new insurance cards into the vehicles right away. I'm ambushed, you see, being stuck in my most helpless state of mind. After a while, my gullible Subconscious Mind, bored of manufacturing visuals to explain the random trivia and movie clips in my head, has opened the door to the Strident Little Voice, and after listening to its impassioned plea for a while, becomes absolutely convinced that getting those insurance cards into the vehicles is the only thing that will save the world from certain and sure destruction. My Subconscious Mind then starts pushing all the emergency buttons randomly in a frantic state of alarm, setting off the bells and sirens of Fight or Flight. The horrific din eventually rouses my Logical Mind, which turns over sleepily and demands to know the reason for the noise, then tells the Subconscious Mind to calm down and shut up: we'll all get those insurance cards into the vehicles when we get up in the morning. No need to keep going on like that when it's only 4:30 am . But the Subconscious Mind, already in a state of panic and goaded by the Strident Little Voice, is not mollified so easily. For another hour, at least, it keeps screaming and hollering. I wake up grumpy and out of sorts and start looking for those expletive insurance cards.
I'm sure I'm not the only one who deals with this situation. If I am, maybe I need some sort of medication.
Keeping my mind sharp mostly consists of listening to the radio talk shows that bore my children to death while I throw together yet another dinner involving pasta. I have also read several books lately, but I can't claim that they've been the sort that do more than amuse.
Yet my brain is so sharp that it sometimes wakes me up in the middle of the night to remind me to worry about things. A Strident Little Voice in my head (a voice that sounds suspiciously like my scary first-grade teacher) starts repeating over and over that the most important thing in the universe to stress about RIGHT NOW is (for instance) that I get those new insurance cards into the vehicles right away. I'm ambushed, you see, being stuck in my most helpless state of mind. After a while, my gullible Subconscious Mind, bored of manufacturing visuals to explain the random trivia and movie clips in my head, has opened the door to the Strident Little Voice, and after listening to its impassioned plea for a while, becomes absolutely convinced that getting those insurance cards into the vehicles is the only thing that will save the world from certain and sure destruction. My Subconscious Mind then starts pushing all the emergency buttons randomly in a frantic state of alarm, setting off the bells and sirens of Fight or Flight. The horrific din eventually rouses my Logical Mind, which turns over sleepily and demands to know the reason for the noise, then tells the Subconscious Mind to calm down and shut up: we'll all get those insurance cards into the vehicles when we get up in the morning. No need to keep going on like that when it's only 4:30 am . But the Subconscious Mind, already in a state of panic and goaded by the Strident Little Voice, is not mollified so easily. For another hour, at least, it keeps screaming and hollering. I wake up grumpy and out of sorts and start looking for those expletive insurance cards.
I'm sure I'm not the only one who deals with this situation. If I am, maybe I need some sort of medication.
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