21 December 2005

the poop diaries

Warning: This post is not for the squeamish and is not recommended you read while at your lunch break. I will talk shamelessly and liberally about poop! I am also NOT a licensed professional so you can't sue me. I am just someone who prefers to stay as healthy as possible and write about fascinating things like bodily waste.

I would like to first thank my dear, wonderfully witty friend, Tee, who without her post Dr.N@tura on Dec 7th, would have afforded me a life of ignorant bliss. But no! I am now a believer and petrified about the little things that have somehow, possibly invaded my personal space in a big way. They are called parasites and apparently about 1 in four people have them.

I've rarely given my bodily functions any thought other than "I have to go", "cross your knees, another sneeze!" or "omagosh, did I forget to flush again?" There has also been the last nine years of diaper changes (my kids are 9, 7, 5, and 2). Did I have any problem with the way things were going? No. I had no troubles. Tee has made it all different. *~sniff~* She changed my life.

I checked out Dr. N@tura's site and even more disgusting but fascinating PICTURE GALLERY. You want to not look but you just can't stop yourself. I am of a rather curious nature and being the typical type 'A' personality I had to investigate further. This led me to several "Ewww, that is DIS-gusting! Ewww Ewww! That is amazing...wow! I didn't know that." I immediately put myself on a naturopathic colon and parasite cleanse after consulting Dr. Ohn (that would be Dr. Ohn-LineSelfDiagnosis).

In the last week I have discovered enough online to know that I will never eat sushi or pork again. Ever. I will always eat a well done steak, whenever I do eat meat. Also John Wayne did not die of a toxic 40 lb blockage in his colon. Thank you, snopes.com cause, you know, I always wondered....

One unexpected bonus, I have lost 11 lbs. doing this program for a whole 12 days (FYI: It's not water weight either, even though my piano legs* have disappeared. I always am liberal with my water intake, regardless). When I wake in the morning I am not achy or sore. That is a welcome development even with my increased exercise. And the question everyone asks, no Im not chained to my bathroom. (you can email me if you need exact details)

So, that is my tale of the poop diaries. I just hope we are still friends after you check out Dr. N@tura's PICTURE GALLERY.

*Piano legs: The onset of water retention in ankles of individual, usually during pregancy or 90+ degree heat, that gives the rather uncomely appearence of the legs looking the same size from top to bottom. See: PMS Bloating

20 December 2005

borrowing Nazi

To loan or not to loan? That is the question.

About 5 months ago I decided to spring for a carpet cleaner. My carpet was in dire need of cleaning as it has been bombarded with the usual traffic of a household of 6. Juice boxes, playdoh, leaky diapers, muddy boots, etc..you get the idea. It needed cleaning and would undoubtedly need to again but after a vomit episode I researched the web because that is what you do when you want to buy something that will drastically change your checkbook. $270 is a chunk of money in my estimation and I wanted to get my money's worth out of this investment.

So now, if I haven't lost you from complete and utter boredom, I purchased it. I love it. I use it. Now, other people want to use it too.

Here is a little tale, theoretically of course, because that way I will be completely absolved of any wrong-doing in the matter.

There was a person who owned a carpet/upholstery cleaner, lets call her 'Jemma' or 'Fueled by Toffee'

There was also a person who wanted to borrow a carpet/upholstery cleaner, let's call her 'Teighbor'.

Now Jemma gets a call say, 9:30 pm last night, "Hello?"

Teighbor: "Hi, it's Teighbor! How are you?"

Jemma: "Fine."

Teighbor: "Do you by chance have a carpet cleaner?"

Jemma, quite reluctant: "Yeeees?"

Teighbor: "Can I borrow it? I have to clean up some vomit out of the carpet."

Now this is the trouble. Teighbor and Jemma used to be great friends. Now Teighbor is busy with other things and other neighbors, not that Jemma is upset, she just knows that everyone gets busy. There are times that Jemma wonders if she has hacked someone off, but Jemma could assume, be totally wrong, paranoid or just need therapy which appears to be the problem. The relationship has fallen to the wayside, why? Who knows. Maybe you would relate to this better if you lived in Salem with Bo and Hope or if you were in Jr. High or possibly lived on Wisteria Lane. Jemma doesn't care what people think because she doesn't get her self-worth from other people. Anyway, I will refrain from boring you further with the "Teighbor Chronicles".

Back to the dilemma....

Jemma, thinking quickly about the request, "It's full of vinegar and water".

At that time it was, I PROMISE, but she also didn't want to loan it out. It had just been used to get a mold spot off the sunroom floor..a room she doesn't always use. (PS. High traffic carpet rocks!!)

Jemma: "My sister in law is going to borrow it this week."

Why Jemma said that? I don't know. It didn't make sense but it was the truth.

Teighbor: "It's just one vomit spot, not all of the carpet"

Jemma thinks to herself: Great. Vomit and mold in one day. This machine will reek by weekend if I don't clean it out with Q-tips! I'm sure she won't want mold spores in her carpet. I can't lie to her but I'm not going to lend it out to get broken...again.

Jemma: "To be honest, I just make it a policy not to loan things out. My sister in law swore to replace or repair anything that gets broken or damaged because she knows how weird I am. It's not worth stressing a friendship over making someone replace something they damaged."

Teighbor speaks hurriedly: "Okay, its okay. I understand. It's okay. I have to go and get this out of my carpet. Bye."

Jemma felt bad but did not want to loan out the cleaner. Every time Jemma lends things out she stresses until it comes back....and usually broken:

1) Bent bicycle tire and torn open seat

2) Expensive camcorder now won't load tapes

3) 'I don't remember you lending me a DVD?'

4) 'I'm sorry about the truck' (that family member offered to pay for damages)

The list goes on, so Jemma doesn't loan things to anyone now unless she has no problem with possibly never seeing it again.

Is this a selfishness problem? No.

Is this a forgiveness problem? No.

Does Jemma have at least four good reasons for not trusting people? See above.

Does Jemma prefer not to stress a relationship over making someone replace materialistic objects? Absolutely yes.

Does Jemma borrow other peoples things. Not anymore.

Post Posting: Jemma ended up loaning this cleaner out to someone who promised to fix it and pay for it if it was damaged and it did come back broken because it was "ALREADY that way". Now I, ehmmm Jemma, has a broken attachment and no one to repair it. SEE?????????????????

What do you think? Do you avoid lending things if you can, but do it anyway or flat out not lend?

17 December 2005

gee, you smell terrific

Recipe for a simmering potpourri

1 orange, cut into ¼ inch slices

1 lemon, cut also as above

6 cinnamon sticks

about 6 or so cloves

Bring to boil in 2 to 3 cups water and let simmer.
(I hear you can also leave the pot on the woodstove)

OHHH, it smells so good. I also put a dash of vanilla extract in it for a warm scent or peppermint extract for cooler scent.

14 December 2005

make me laugh

A friend emailed this to me. I thought it was pretty funny...
















08 December 2005

deep thoughts #3

Why do people say, "....it was in the last place I looked!"

Who keeps looking for something after they find it?

06 December 2005

diary entry Dec 2002

This is an important story in my life dated Dec 2002. This is also something I felt I should share as my posts are usually dry and sarcastic, silly and humorous.

This is part of what has shaped me. I hope someone is blessed by it.


ornery with love

I wrote this several years ago for my MOPS (Mothers of PreSchoolers)
group newsletter as a tribute to my children.


Bananas jammed down into vacuum hoses.
Marbles lodged tightly in toddler’s noses.

Big bottle of soap squeezed out on the floor.
32 degrees and an open front door.

Crayon marker faces drawn on the wall.
Tell me who won Vase vs Ball?

Expensive earrings. Yes, they do flush.
Daddy says, “Hurry!” but he's meaning, “Don’t rush.”

Chocolate fingerprints on the duvet cover.
Hide in the clothes rounder, here comes my Mother!

Legos shoved into the VCR.
Losing your lunch in the back of the car.

Spaghetti slides with ease through baby hair.
Dinner is something that you must wear.

Army men are “hiding” down the heater vent.
Hangers are more fun when they are bent.

Standing victorious on the kitchen table.
or tippy top of the fridge if you are able.

In Superman PJs I can fly off my bed.
Scissors cut hair nicely
when used on my head.

Children are ornery but when push comes to shove
you can't help but give them all of your love.


Poetically Kids

I wrote this several years ago for newsletter for a women's group I belonged to. It's silly but a fun tribute to my children.

Bananas jammed down into vacuum hoses.
Marbles lodged tightly in toddler’s noses.

Big bottle of soap squeezed out on the floor.
32 degrees and an open front door.

Crayon marker faces drawn on the wall.
Tell me who won Vase vs Ball?

Expensive earrings. Yes, they do flush.
Daddy says, “Hurry!” but he's meaning, “Don’t rush.”

Chocolate fingerprints on the duvet cover.
Hide in the clothes rounder, here comes my Mother!

Legos shoved into the VCR.
Losing your lunch in the back of the car.

Spaghetti slides with ease through baby hair.
Dinner is something that you must wear.

Army men are “hiding” down the heater vent.
Hangers are more fun when they are bent.

Standing victorious on the kitchen table.
or tippy top of the fridge if you are able.

In Superman PJs I can fly off my bed.
Scissors cut hair nicely
when used on my head.

Children are ornery but when push comes to shove
you can't help but give them all of your love.

05 December 2005

deep thoughts

I wonder if Jackie Chan

(Shanghai Noon & Who Am I)

has a real life body guard?

04 December 2005

Star Wars Kitty

Ellie abt 9 mos.

Dum, dum, dum

My 2 ½ yr old daughter has now turned into what we call Star Wars Kitty

She runs around the house singing Darth Vader's Theme (or in fellow blogger Sarah Grace's case, Darf Bader's Theme) from Star Wars but with a feline twist:

Meow, mow, mow

John Williams would be proud.

03 December 2005

Merry Christmas Mr. POTTER!

I have to share my absolutely favorite Christmas movies.
Here they are with my favorite at the top.
What is your favorite Christmas movie??

It's a Wonderful Life
"George Bailey, I'll love you till the day I die."

Miracle on 34th St.

A Christmas Story
"You'll shoot your eye out!"

White Christmas

Meet Me In St. Louis

Holiday Inn

02 December 2005

ketchup, latkes and U-cut trees

Back from hiatus! Yea! I said I'd be back after Thanksgiving. Thank you all for those who inquired. :o) I'm sure you are all tickled pink inside. Oh, wait that's the Pepto-Bismal.

I've managed to throw out my lower back in grandiose style. It hurts to sit for more than about 15 minutes so my blogging will be sporadic for a bit. Oh, I'll live.

I think I hurt myself helping hubby lift our massive Griswold Christmas tree on the roof of the van. Seriously, the tree takes up a chunk of my living room and about a quarter of a million Christmas lights. It smells so dern good. Only in the State of Washington can you pay $15 for a green 8 foot tree. Okay, Oregon too..and maybe Arkansas, now that I think about it.

And for those with the romantic notion of cutting your own tree...just back up the eggnog, Tiny Tim. It's not all snow and hot chocolate.

There is a reason its cheaper to U-Cut. It *can be* a bonefide pain in the keester.

(I need to be a bit more positive about this. Okay, smile while saying: "It's a pain in the keester!" Ah, such a difference.)

This is how it is. You start mucking through acres of mud and pine needles, having hubby sport his muscles by cutting down the tree (okay, really not bad...hm, mm, mmmm) and hauling it back to your vehicle. How far? I don't remember but I think I might have seen the cast of LOSTon the way back. You then lob the biggest and best on the top your vehicle, sap first, when you notice that gigantic bald spot in the tree that will go against a wall for sure. The proverbial cherry on top is if you can stress like me and worry about the mile of string hubby used that would somehow snap while we are on the highway. I could just see eight feet of douglas fir taking a 60 mile an hour Nutcracker dive off the top of the van, gracing some tailgater with a new pine-scented air freshener through their windshield.

With a tree this big, I had to pull out all my lights and shocker! nothing works. How is it that you can put away perfectly good Christmas lights in an airtight container, place the container in your attic, not touching it for a year to take it down and find only half the buggers work? I think it's an evil GE-sponsored, maniacal, light-damaging Fairy....either that or maybe it's the $1.85 cheap-o string of lights that was made by a minimum wage, undervalued employee with below-par materials but, hey, that would be crazy talk!! Crazy talk, I say!

Now the decorating. The kids helped me with the tree which made it even more fun.

Me: Who's pulling on the lights?!

Cherub child #2: It's her!, pointing his red-candy-colored finger at the youngest.

Cherub child #4: YIGHTS! MAMA!

One minute later....

Me: Doggonnit! How many times do I have to say don't pull on the lights! Do you want the tree to fall on you?

See, parents must find this therapeutic asking dumb questions. I think its a generational thing that happens at their child's birth and comes to full maturity in said parent once the children are at the age of reason. Something will just click in your head to tell you to point out a child's worst fear and then ask them if they would want that to happen.

Do you want your brother to fart on you?
Do you want the police to arrest mama because you wont wear your seatbelt?
Do you want your face to stick like that????
Do you want to lose a privilege??
See? Dumb questions.


Me: No pulling on the ornaments...

Cherub child #3: I didn't do it!

Cherub child #1: I didn't do it!

Cherub child #2: I didn't do it!

Cherub child #4: YIGHTS! MAMA!

Me: Where are the candy canes??

Cherub child #2 with sticky substance covering face and hands and color-coordinating tongue: Um......they..ummm. gone.

Me: Couldn't you have eaten the broken ones? You've had your candy today. Now we don't have any candy canes for the tree. Ellie, no ornaments in your nose. Here hang this.

Cherub child #3: That's my ornament!

Me: Where is your DAD!? Aiden, not all on one branch. Spread them out....

Cherub child#1: He went to buy new christmas lights. The ones in the attic were broken.

Cherub child #4: YIGHTS! MAMA!

Me: Fine. Who wants hot chocolate?

So, the positive side is I finished my finished Hallmark-card, making-Martha-proud, racking-up-the-light-bill, picturesque tree. It's so beautiful even a *Rabbi would cry in approval. Late last night, I put on some coffee and plunked myself down on my couch and watch the original "Miracle on 34th Street". Sitting there with my blanket, hot coffee and a classic Christmas movie...this is my favorite season!!

*Note: If by chance a Rabbi does read this or someone of Jewish tradition and/or extraction, please be aware that I have the utmost respect for Jewish culture and tradition as I would hope you feel the same about my Christmas tree. My comments are not meant as an insult nor should my comments EVER be taken seriously. (..well, not always. But only if I say, "no,...seriously") And besides, if you don't think that Christmas trees are beautiful and the coolest thing around this winter, well, that is too bad because I appreciate the fact that potato latkes are so darn good. Hmmm and especially with ketchup.

10 November 2005

till Thanksgiving

Here is my last post till Turkey Day!! I'm taking a break from bloggage for now but am looking forward to emails.

Im so busy with family, events, school, birthdays and subsequent parties, housecleaning, shopping, chores, kids, holidays and plain ole' exhaustion. I'll still check my email.

So, Ciao Bella, for now! Have a super holiday, be thankful! and will see ya on the other side of the turkey platter.

Until, then, I have my favorite Dave Barry Thanksgiving column to leave with you. I clipped this out of the paper years ago....

Turkey Day by Dave Barry

Originally published Nov. 13, 1998.

So this year, you agreed to host the big family Thanksgiving dinner. Congratulations! You moron!

No, seriously, hosting Thanksgiving dinner does NOT have to be traumatic. The key is planning. For example, every year my family spends Thanksgiving at the home of a friend named Arlene Reidy, who prepares dinner for a huge number of people. I can't give an exact figure, because my eyeballs become fogged with gravy. But I'm pretty sure that Arlene is feeding several branches of the armed forces.

And Arlene is not slapping just any old food on the table, either. She's a gourmet cook who can make anything. I bet she has a recipe for cold fusion. She serves moist, tender turkeys the size of Arnold Schwarzenegger, accompanied by a vast array of exotic hors d'oeuvres and 350 kinds of sweet potatoes made from scratch. I'm pretty sure Arlene threshes her own wheat.

If you were to look into Arlene's dining room at the end of Thanksgiving dinner, it would at first appear to be empty. Then you'd hear groans and burps coming from under the table, and you'd realize that the guests, no longer able to cope with the food and gravity at the same time, were lying on the floor. Every now and then you'd see a hand snake up over the edge of the table, grab a handful of stuffing, then dart back under the table again, after which you'd hear chewing, then swallowing, then the sound of digestive organs rupturing. Some guests have to be rushed by ambulance to the hospital, receiving pumpkin pie intravenously en route.

The question is: How is Arlene able to prepare such an amazing feast for so many people? The answer is simple: I have no idea. I'm always watching football when it happens. But my point is that, if you want to provide your Thanksgiving guests with a delicious home-cooked meal, one approach would be to go to Arlene's house and steal some of her food when she's busy churning the butter. She'd never notice. She has enough leftovers to make turkey sandwiches for everybody in Belgium.

If you prefer to do your own cooking this Thanksgiving, your first step is to calculate how much turkey you need. Home economists tell us that the average 155-pound person consumes 1.5 pounds of turkey, so if you're planning to have 14 relatives for dinner, you'd simply multiply 14 times 1.5 times 155, which means your turkey should weigh, let's see, carry the two ... 3,255 pounds. If you can't find a turkey that size, you should call up selected relatives and explain to them, in a sensitive and diplomatic manner, that they can't come because they weigh too much.

In selecting a turkey, remember that the fresher it is, the better it will taste. That's why, if you go into the kitchen of top professional homemaker Martha Stewart on Thanksgiving morning, you'll find her whacking a live turkey with a hatchet. In fact, you'll find Martha doing this every morning.

"It just relaxes me," she reports.

Your other option is to get a frozen turkey at the supermarket. The Turkey Manufacturers Association recommends that, before you purchase a frozen bird, you check it for firmness by test-dropping it on the supermarket floor -- it should bounce three vertical inches per pound -- and then take a core sample of the breast by drilling into it with a 3/8-inch masonry bit until you strike the giblets. If supermarket employees attempt to question you, the Turkey Manufacturers Association recommends that you "gesture at them with the drill in a reassuring manner."

When you get the turkey home, you should thaw it completely by letting it sit on a standard kitchen counter at room temperature for one-half of the turkey's weight in hours, or roughly 19 weeks. "If you see spiders nesting in your turkey," states the Turkey Manufacturers Association, "you waited too long."

Once the turkey is defrosted, you simply cook it in a standard household oven at 138.4 degrees centimeter for 27 minutes per pound (29 minutes for married taxpayers filing jointly). Add four minutes for each 100 feet of your home's elevation above sea level, which you should determine using a standard household sextant. Inspect the turkey regularly as it cooks; when you notice that the skin has started to blister, the time has come for you to give your guests the message they've been eagerly awaiting: "Run!" Because you left the plastic wrapper on the turkey, and it's about to explode, spewing out flaming salmonella units at the speed of sound.

As you stand outside waiting for the fire trucks, you should take a moment to count your blessings. The main one, of course, is that you will definitely NOT be asked to host the big family Thanksgiving dinner next year. But it's also important to remember -- as our Pilgrim fore parents remembered on the very first Thanksgiving -- that two excellent names for rock bands would be "The Turkey Spiders" and "The Flaming Salmonella Units."

08 November 2005

the bright side of life

I've been working on staying positive. I do have a tendency to look on the dark side and I'm not talking about weilding a light saber either. I have promised myself to look on the bright side of life even though I find sick comfort in making fun of the negative. Its sooo much fun!

So with that I will blog on something postive and beautiful.

Sunshine..after the car is washed. Rhubarb pie, heated, a la mode. Ace-ing a final exam...without studying. Crisp fall days..with no yard work to do. The beach on a blanket...with your spouse at sunset. Big fat snowflakes..on Christmas day. 10 less lbs on the scale..after your birthday (cake). Sleeping kids..after buying your favorite movie. Winning the lottery...twice. Tax returns finished... and they owe you. Having your spouse check you out from across the room...then leaving together soon after. Stoping to help someone with a flat in the rain...and finding out it's your boss. Gorgeous flowers coming up in your yard...and you didn't plant them.
Taking a photo of flowers...and placing it on your own blog. (yes, I took that!)

See that didn't hurt.

06 November 2005

Bah humbug!

I'm just going to get this puppy out of the way to leave room in November and December for Christmas spirit. Lights on the tree, buying gifts for a family in need, Frank Sinatra on in the CD player and roasting chestnuts by the fire.

Maybe not the nut roasting part because who do you know that still roasts chestnuts anyway? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller?

I have a love-hate thing going on with holidays. It's my favorite time of year, time for family, giving, sharing the spirit of Christmas. This time of year also manages to bring out the Grinch in me. I have to bring up some of my holiday 'Favorite Things'. (oh, pipe down, Oprah)

Bundling up with hats, coats and sweaters, dressed in layers and topped with winter scarves to head out to the store and shop.
Taming hat hair, spending shopping money at the pump on the way there. No parking within a football field of the mall even if you're going in just to get friggin' diapers.

Sipping a concoction of the most delectable mix of spice, pumpkin, coffee and cream from a busy Star$ while watching people shop and bustle about in downtown's Pioneer Square.
You do know this delight, as someone once said, also has crack as the secret ingredient. This is the real reason I end up forking over 4 bucks for this irresistible diddy while watching dim bulbs spend their mortgages on their kids. You see these shoppers would prefer to keep up with the Jones' Christmas spending habits than keep the power on at their house or instead sponsor a family that year. And they don't even like the Jones'. The Griswald's would be proud.

Family dinners filled with good food, Christmas music and talk about the kids, cousins, aunts and uncles and don't forget the grandkids.
Talking to immediate family (okay, not bad) that I haven't seen for a year, to the day, while trying to get my toddler to sit down to eat in a less than child-proofed house and listening to...oh, lord help us, Mannheim Steamroller so many times that it encourages self-inflicted gunshot wounds to the head. Hubby asks 1.4 million times if we can go now. Okay, good food though.

Cute Christmas Plays at Church.
Now I'm going to get reamed for this but PULEEZ! I
understand that many need the message of salvation, the manger depiction, etc....... I won't fight on that point. People need that!

I do, however, complain to being subjected to 2 hours of kids wiggling in their seats if they actually do sit down, SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH repeated a billion times to then
have someone take the paint off my car blaring their horn when we leave because I'm apparently driving the wrong way out of the *field* they turned into an overflow parking lot. Yes, and that would also be a football field away from the auditorium. Nice fish on your car dude! Did that come with your horn?

I so have issues. Is the glass half full or half empty? Depends on what's in the glass, I guess. Maybe a trip back in time and around the world with Death would change me? Bah humbug.

04 November 2005

Going to the Hop-per-ra

If you are reading this and believe that Puccini is another kind of noodle shape and Alto is a kind of dog food, well, I would say this posts is not for you.

I. Emma Sometimes Have Hop-per-raa Tickets. (insert best Chico Marx immitation here)

The opera is Tosca and as you can see, it is just like another episode of America's Top Model.

***With characters larger than life, Tosca seethes with passion and drama. Trapped between the evil Scarpia's desire to kill her lover and his fiendish lust for her, Tosca lashes out in the only way that she can. Frantically. With a knife. And with that blood-letting, the audience is driven relentlessly to one of opera's most stunning conclusions.***

It's like Days of Our Lives on stage. Hey, like, DUDE! I'm there! What kind of jeans should I wear and do they serve hotdogs with 'kraut?

No really. I cannot wait.

Hubby and I don't get out much with four kids, but when we do, we go for the gusto. Giacomo Puccini = gusto. He wrote some of the most beautiful, captivating, pieces of music. I really like this guy. He wrote some quite famous operas or more commonly known at my house, Hop-per-ras! People, these are incredible to hear. Who likes operas anymore? I'll tell you. ME!ME!ME!ME!ME!

You listen toLuciano Pavarotti sing: Nessun Dorma..just really listen.

Or hear soprano Renata Tebaldi sing: O Mio Babbino Caro...fabulously, incredibly breathtaking. I think I cry every time I hear that. Hey, I'm a girl. I can do that.

You can hear snippets of both on the #1 Opera Album. I think when you listen to it, even your IQ goes up 10 points.

So, hubby and I are opera-ing next weekend and are you ready for this one...he can't wait. He was even happy about me buying tickets. Hubby loves classical which is stereotypically comical especially when he pulls up on a construction site and he pulls his solid frame out of his pickup truck. That's the truck with a big rack and box full of manly tools. He pulls out a lid for his shaved head. It's a camoflague cover (military style hat), of course, to match his trousers. He yanks the wheelbarrow out of the pickup bed like its a sack of feathers, grabs concrete stamps, finishing tools, etc., grabs his radio and turns on ........89.9 All Classical.org.

So to the Hop-per-ra we go. Will write more on this later....

03 November 2005

I Didn't Just Say That

Things I thought I would never say to my kids:

Pick up your blaster rifle. I’m not going to tell you again.

Don’t chew on your baby’s fingers.

Who hung Barbie from the tree?

Please point the Lightsaber away from your brother’s face before he gets hurt.

(And of course, what follows….)

That is IT!! Quit cutting off your brother’s head!

That’s what happens when you drink a glass of creamer!

We can’t go to Gotham City, honey, but we can drive to the park.

Those aren’t airplane stickers and they don’t go on the front window! They are mommy’s personal…um, things.

No, Sully won’t come out of your closet. He’s just pretend.

That’s why girls don’t stand up to pee. Now, go get the cleaner and paper towels.

No more jump ropes around your neck. Only real puppies have leashes.

That’s the last time I’m fishing in the toilet.

Take the hose out.side!

How would you like it if your brother farted on you?!

Is there anything you have said to your kids and laughed about it later?? Do tell!

27 October 2005

Like, Gag Me With A Spoon!

I just saw this in WalMart the other day. Long live John Hughes.

For all those who remember, those were good days. As hubby puts it, "Party like it's on sale for $19.99!"

K, like, I woke up this morning. And I was like, almost late. I pulled on my jeans, pegged them, threw on leg warmers and jammed my feet in my Keds.

(Totally rad)

I grabbed my jelly bracelets and hot pink banana clip and did my permed hair in under 5 minutes. I just couldn't live without my AquaNet. I grabbed my favorite gigantic gold hoops and I looked so bodacious!

I got into my Camaro and turned on my new compact disc player. It only cost me $500. I listened to Bananarama and Duran Duran and drove to my school as fast as I could. The Jocks were waiting for me...it's like so totally rad to be a Senior!

I saw my friend Cassie after school in the parking lot. She and I are like best friends. She looked so cute in her Benetton jeans. The she told me that she is going out with Rick to see Back to The Future. (Ew, Rick, Gross me out the door! Just because he has a brand new truck!) I knew she would totally ditch me for someone like that loser this weekend. She is too good for him. He thinks he's like, Don Johnson or something! Then she's like, "PSYCHE!" I totally wanted to kill her but I threw my letterman's jacket at her instead.

Well, I'm off..going to finish this book, "The Color Purple" while my parents are gone to buy a Teddy Ruxpin for my brother. I wish they would just come back with a new brother haha! As if.

26 October 2005


I have my free time now! Kiddies in bed, sitting at the computer and I've got my glass of wine.

No, I'm no lush. I don't mean to offend those who don't drink. I follow the golden rule, "Be not drunk with wine". Jesus didn't chug Berry Blast Kool-Aid. I'm just saying. Of course, He wasn't doing shots and getting hammered either. Balance and moderation are a good thing even when you have a lemon of a day.

Occasionally, on the evenings I'm staying home, I'll have a glass of wine. Mr. Coffee doesn't drink at all and can't stand beer. I might warm up to beer but wine is good enough for me. "Beauty in the eye of the beer holder"...and all that. I guess it's the control issue with Mr.Coffee. What happens if one of the kids needs to go to the ER? Who is driving?!

So here I am. I'm making lemonade (okay, wine) out of life's lemons but I'm keeping this first batch for me.

~Bee is anti-beer goggles and never coyote ugly

25 October 2005


I have been plagued with the headcold of the century. As soon as they find a safe way to remove your head from your body, I'm going there.

I think my sinuses are starting to make diamonds from all the pressure. I hope I can blow out a J. Lo ring that costs as much as a house. Two of my house. Then I can be consoled about not winning the 200 kazillion dollar lottery last week. Of course it helps to buy a ticket. When I woke up yesterday, I was sure the light at the end of the tunnel was really a bear with a flashlight. This morning, I felt immensely better.

SO, it was only 10 years ago today that I was robbed at gunpoint at my bank job. I still don't know for the life of me, why I remember these things.

It was an interesting day, to say the least. I got pretty good with handling robberies at my job, with another 6 more in 9 months. We got to forgoing the drills...heck, we just get robbed. I got tired of scrubbing that fingerprint dust out of my nice work blouses. You never see that on CSI. That black smudgy stuff never comes out of anything. It's like the baked on malt-o-meal dishes of investigation.

I'm going to stop blogging now. My NyQuil is catching up to me and I might say something stupid. I say stupid things without NyQuil so the probability is fairly high.

Tomorrow? Same time, same place?

~Bee sees fuzzy mushrooms and butterflies

19 October 2005


getting up
tired eyes
45 min
till school
eggo waffles
clean shirts
tied shoes
out the door
dash lights
4 counted heads
stupid van
kids on time
coffee please
back to home
Zus to school
carpool neighbor
thanks for the ride
peace and quiet
four minus three
Lolo and Mom
washing dishes
washing clothes
washing tub
washing washing
tired at lunch
need nap..coffee?
picked up
by sis-in-law
pick up
kids at school
more coffee
see Nana
Papa and cousins
Rosie Doggie, too
fun afternoon
outdoor kids
2 acres to run
Aunt 'Chel'
drives us home
fun, fun, fun
Mr Coffee home
with tired feet
kids and dad
need to eat
greens and sauce
BBQ chicken
baked recipe to repeat
dishes piled
do it now
clean plates and cups
beautifully clean
kids brushed
teeth and hair
tired mommy
kisses and hugs
blogs and to bed

09 October 2005

Barbie Meets Aunt Ruth

How can you not like this face? Would you harbor any grudges against it? Well, pull up a chair, gentle reader, and I will share with you a tale that will knock you...well, er....dead.

Once upon a time there was an Aunt nicknamed Rue who lived with her nieces and nephews. Now Rue loved her nieces and nephews despite the fact that behind their cherub faces, they couldn't see a reason for allowing her to sleep in or hug her gently when she was holding a steaming cup of coffee. The white comforter was not spared. Neither was her expensive black dinner gown.

Scissors + children = -decorative tassels.

Anyone interested in buying a "newly hemmed" $100 dress?

The ensuing havoc was normal for the household, but this made little difference in Rue's mind. These darlings could do no wrong...at least for the day. However, the day was young and little did anyone suspect that before pj's were donned and teeth were brushed, the back yard would look horribly similar to a CSI crime scene.

This day would unfold into something so sinister it would leave everyone speechless.

It was this tragic day, Aunt Rue decided to give Bee a coffee break. These two were sisters so Rue did not mind watching young ones while Bee would bolt for a few minutes of relished freedom.

Off Bee would go, to a coffee shop to sink into a novel and grab a quiet cup o' joe. This mother of four would end up clutching her coffee, dreaming of a different life filled with light colored carpet, a body that defied gravity, and convertible two-seaters that looked nothing like her ugly Ford Minivan.

For Bee, these highly cherished mini-breaks greatly reduced insanity, babbling idiot moments, and a welcome side effect? No hangovers.

Bee could not be more thankful...on all counts.

While Bee was indulging in her delusions of sanity, Rue nurtured and adored the children by indulging them in some time out of doors. Rue would send them to the backyard for some sunshine while declaring babysitting was the best birth control ever.

Then she heard it. The Nothingness. The Silence. It cut the air like a knife, or a really quiet spatula. It was too quiet in an eerily abnormal What Are The Kids Doing Now kind of way.

"Evil is brewing here!", Rue thought to herself as she sprung into action.

She popped her head outside to check in on the little cherubs and was greeted by Max's toothless smile, a smile made possible by his recent transaction with the tooth fairy.

"...and what is this?", Rue asked herself.

She quickly grabbed her camera phone, "A Kodak moment....", her voice trailed off as she snapped pictures like crazed paparazzi.

Whatever could it be?

say it isn't so......

Barbie hanging by a tree!
In an evening gown, no less.

Oh dear Barbie! Your life has been snuffed by a maniacal 6 year old!

There is just something
so disturbing, yet completely normal about this picture.

07 October 2005


I just love this photo of Lolo Bear at our front window....

06 October 2005


It's beginning to dawn on me that after 12 years of marriage I am perceived as a rarity. With divorce rates skyrocketing like a ricocheting rolling pin, and Hollywood marriages consisting of 3.2 months plus lawyer fees, it is becoming apparent that I am a bonefide marriage dinosaur with some secrets to spill. (hehe, spell check says bonefide should be "bonehead" :snort:)

"Spill?" asks the blushing bride. You bet your nuptials!

Some of you may think me arrogant to believe that after 12 years I can give advice. I don't know it all or even pretend to. I am not a professional but sometimes I do put chairs around my living room, grab a hair brush microphone and pretend I'm Dr. Phil.

Stuffed child bear named Tugar: "Well, you see, its like this Dr. Phillipina, she really hogs the bed and there are nights she actually peeps on my head when she is sleeping. I hate that."

2½ year old daughter: "Hi mama! Can I hab some cheese?" Be it known, my daughter believes in all of the food groups: Milk, cheese, cheese, cheese and cheese. Even her diaper bag is embroidered with Darigold. Local Cows Working Hard.)

Exit Dreamland....
Here are my keys of empowerment, some great advice I was given with a couple of things I gathered on the way. This is what I've learned to be a 'happily ever after'.

1) Committed for life.
No, not 'my shirt ties in the back' kind of committed. It means in for the long haul type of committed. If you have to trap your spouse to marry you in some crazy soap opera plot- like, say marrying to save the world from evil while avenging all the wrongs done to you by your parents.....call it a hunch, but it could be problematic.

2) Avoid arguments that include the words "always" and "never". Use the word "I" instead of "you".
"I" conveys your thought and how you feel. "You always..." conveys blame. In the words of the all wise Tommy Boy, "Don't run away from your feelings!" Remember that there are no bad arguments unless there is no positive outcome.

3) Count the compromises your spouse does for you and never the ones you do for your spouse.
It's the old adage, give and take. If you lived alone, you would have to change the friggin' toilet paper roll anyway, right? So, don't have a herd of cattle if you have to do this after your spouse leaves the bathroom. It's not cancer, death or 20-to-life.

4) Protect your marriage.
I am a bit more conservative on this topic, just because of my personal convictions. I would never go out to lunch with a married man alone. I would never keep a close personal friend that was a man other than my hubby. Work this out to what is comfortable between you and your spouse.

So you can debate away, but this is a fine-tune-to-your-own-marriage-specs kinda deal, so just rent When Harry Met Sally and be done with it. I happen to agree with Harry.

last but not least,

5) Bid for intimacy.
Okay, can you see my microphone and bald head now. The bid could be something like,

"I would love to spend the day at the beach with you and have a quiet little romantic dinner without the kids".

Some days it will pan out. Some days it won't. The key is that the want is there and youre telling your main squeeze that you are thinking of yummy-naughty alone time. This keeps the fire going.

Now four kids is enough to slap intimacy right back to your honeymoon, but what this means in so many words is I can't wait to spend time with you. The beach vacay didn't happen but he wanted me to know that is what he would have rather done.

Reality bites ~sniff~ and the weekend turns into an oil change, chores and homemade spaghetti dinner topped with an extra order of toddler dishes. If my good pj's are clean, well, it's almost as good as snuggling up with hubby under a blanket at the..well, almost.

oh, heck, who am I kidding? I would so much rather be at the beach and ordering room service for two.

05 October 2005

Baby Named Superman

What are these people thinking? Maybe they are just not. Today, I read that Nicolas Cage just had a baby and they named him Kal-El.

Did you get that?

Kal-El. As in Superman's Kryptonite name.

Granted, he was once Nicolas Coppola and changed his last name to Cage after the comic book hero, Luke Cage. Jeez, mine would have been Bee AquaMan. Or Bee Man, which would have been an oxymoron and besides, my hair is not wavy or yellow.

I'll tell you what Kal-EL won't miss..it's when he grows up, that sweet, doomed boy is going to come home from school everyday with an enormous wedgie out the back of his DKNY jeans and all of his allowance gone.

Three words...THER-AHH-PEE!

How about some other special names chosen by celebrities:

Christie Brinkley has a daughter Sailor Lee.
Thanks Mom, for naming me after a lame pair of jeans. Who's the Uptown Girl now?

Demi Moore and Bruce Willis have Rumer and Scout.
Brucey, I thought you liked the name?
No, hun, I was talking about your pregnancy when I said "Can't she have it sooner?!" not "Better name the baby Rumer!"

Bob Geldof and wife had Peaches and Fifi-Trixiebelle.
cause you see DelMonte was taken and my doggie name book has some winners!

Apple Martin, daughter to Gwyneth Paltrow and Chris Martin.
just an 'i' away from a delicious cocktail and what is with the fruitbasket, Hollywood?

Elle MacPherson had a son named Arpad Flynn.
but Elle, deodorant makes my arpad's itch.

Tracey Gold has a son named Sage.
And these are his siblings Corriander and Garlic.

Cher and Sonny Bono had a baby years ago named Chastity.
Uh, as in 'virginity'....don't tell me her middle name is Belt.

Harry Hamlin and Lisa Rinna have a daughter Delilah Belle.
Delilah? You named a baby after an Old Testament tart? I hope Lisa will be able to pronounce it with her lips.

But I believe Frank Zappa has the corner on unusual children's names:

Moon Unit (calling Buzz Aldrin)
Dweezil (Isn't he that skinny guy on Saved By the Bell?)
Ahmet Rodan (excuse me, Helmet Roadin'..er, um....I'm a Rodent.....wait! I'm at what?)
and Diva (puulease! I'm a model, you know what I mean...)

He should have just bought a baby name book long ago...what do you think?

**Disclaimer: I can appreciate a world of diversity, names reflecting the cultures around the world and the family history names represent. The similarities to your own name, if it is listed here, is strictly coincidental unless I am totally making fun of your celebrity parents. If that the case, then well, sorry, dude, but your parents deserved it.

01 October 2005

death by cheesecake

This is a to die for cheesecake recipe given to me by a friend years and years ago. This was my first recipe used to make cheesecake and the chocolate chips just melt right in.

Chocolate Rum Chocolate Chip Cheesecake

¼ cup Dutch processed cocoa powder

¾ cup Dutch processed cocoa powder

2 lbs Kraft room-temperature cream cheese**

1½ cups sugar

5 eggs

¼ cup of dark rum

2 teaspoons of rum extract

2 tablespoons of vanilla extract

1 - 12 oz bag of mini Ghirardelli or other choc chips

Set oven at 200°F. Spray a 9 inch cheescake springform pan with shortening spray. Dust with the ¼ cup of Dutch cocoa and set aside.

In a large mixing bowl:
Mix cream cheese and sugar until smooth and soft, scraping sides of bowl. Mix in all remaining ingredients except for chocolate chips. Mix well. (If cream cheese is not room temperature you will have little tiny balls of white cream cheese flecks in your cheesecake.....experience talking here)

Stir in mini chocolate chips and pour into prepared cheesecake pan.

Bake for 7 to 8 hours overnight. (yes, overnight!!)

Cool on rack. When at room temperature, cover with plastic wrap and place an upside down plate on top and invert. Remove the springform pan and refridgerate. After about an hour you can serve by placing another inverted serving plate on top. Flip over and peel off plastic wrap.

Storage and serving:
Cover and refridgerate. Serve using a warm knife dipped in water. Serves about 20.

**generic cream cheese not recommended..it doesn't taste very good.

04 September 2005

My Baby Stopped A Bank Robber

Several years ago, I brought newborn Baby Girl downtown to my old bank branch to show her off, as all good mothers would. She was my first child and having worked 8 to 9 hour days until the day before my delivery, her visit was well-anticipated by all the branch employees.

It wasn't too busy but the phones were non-stop. I sat in the lounge area, waiting for a friend to go to lunch. I'm standing, rocking the baby in her sling and I see a man walk into the branch. He stopped as he walked in, that's what caught my eye. Heading over to the courtesy writing counter, he then grabbed a blank deposit slip and scribbled on the back. I watched him closely. I'd been through half a dozen bank robberies before and he looked odd. I always notice the odd ones.

He eyeballed the cameras, one at a time. Then he checked out the doors. He looked so nervous and scared, he'd missed me staring at first. I stood up, still watching him, Jaina tight in the baby sling around me. It was then I caught his eye.

I knew what he was going to do. I smiled big.

Staring directly at him, I started bouncing on my toes as if to console the baby. He looked away quickly, my eyes burning an image in my head.  

Blue jeans, nike shoes, 6ft, lean build, pointy chin....

but to him, I was 'just a woman holding a baby'. He averted his gaze to the counter top while stating loudly enough for me to hear, "Oh, mumble mumble...busy, I'll have to come back later". He bolted out the door, wading the paper in his hand and pushing it into his pocket. As it turned out, I was told another bank nearby got robbed that very same day.

So The Story Goes... My baby girl stopped a bank robbery before she could even walk.

-Bee is pretty observant

30 August 2005

take it A-L-L

So this is my lot in life. Laundry.

I can do two loads a day and I still have Mt. Everest waiting to be done. It laughs at me. Sneering at me and sprawling out. It's having more 'dirty laundry babies' every time I turn around to deal with the dishes, vacuuming, or very, very important things like say, blogging.

You see, I have four kids. Add one Mr Coffee who job generates more laundry than a 20 story Hilton Hotel.

My two year old believes her goal in life is to be as naked as possible no matter how often I dress her. See, its more fun to draw on your belly than a piece of paper. Didn't you know? This makes 1, 2, 8, 12 loads a day.

When by chance that a blue moon hits the sky and my laundry does get done, I will then start in like a maniac folding everything I can get off my couch. It's a race against my children. They are natural-born flinging machines and find all sorts of creative ways of catapulting the laundry about the room. Even as you read, (Blink.....Blink......Blink) there is a laundry stack, neatly folded, that is being eyed by a toddler who has a real future at the Olympic shot-put.

So what if my couch looks like the testing ground for Downey Wrinkle and Release Spray? So what if I'm picking Cherrios off my newly washed T-shirt. Sigh. I just don't think I'll win this one.

12 August 2005

good sweats

It's time to get into gear today. Its already mid afternoon and I'm still wearing the pj's I worked out in. Nothing like saving money on work out sweats. Just wear your pjs.

Two guys came over to the house to drop off work tools of my hubby's. Does everyone have their radar out? "This just in, she's worked out in pj's and smells like a locker room. Let's visit."

My sister in law came by too. Feelin' the family love.

At least they are the good pj's and not the ones with the hole in the right pant leg. I get myself to throw these lovelies away.

My shower calls....

11 August 2005

12 years

12 years my love
the beginning
God brings
Hello Mr Mr Mr
Pizza date
Expo show
drive like a bat
sunday morning
smiles upon us
subway park
everybody here
wants to be here
couch movies
knowing the future
Coke and a smile
fresh french fries
salty thank you
blue pickup
borrowed to fix
new jobs
phone calls
long drives home
banquet walks
black velvet dress
the ring or not
VanHalen mowers
say I do
rental cars
saving the planet
at gorge honeymoon
tillamook strikes
small with storage
Ford pickup
with Combat
concrete laundry
charging in
gravel flying
smiles and movies
homemade pot roast
learning to live
Turtle flys
baggage cleaning
brings understanding
laughter fills
1100 mile move
tummy grows
pool time
bank commute
fully-dressed swimmer
laughter hangs
new baby
wrapped pinkies
carpenter tools
pay the bills
UHaul feedings
toddler shoes
Nana's sidewalk
home means work
more concrete laundry
love strikes again
grizzly adams brings
greatest excellent
wise Leader
baby diapers
cousins about
dirt piles
lava rock
scream and shout
internet terrain
paint and spiders
Quiet nights
Fiery war-like giant
bringing joy
pain in the quiet
volume rises
bic hairdos
struggles to share
more concrete laundry
big chicken
meets cinderella
please go
future awaits
new perspective brings
weeks to think
computer distract
stresses break
dreams in 3 days
words are harmony
packing Bees
music in the trunk
1100 miles in 22 hours
words are many
both sides work
as long as we both shall
look to God
home suprise
piece of van
new addition
makes 6
almost 5
champion wins
final score
two and two
faithfulness abounds
never changes
time cards
monetary purpose
school brings
babies mature
a life to have
calendars turn
laughter and love
it's only you
add to the years
12 as they are
amaze me

05 August 2005


I try very hard not to complain.

Negativity does not suit anyone although, there comes a time when you have to vent!

In light of that, I have to dedicate this blog to those parents who brought their three children, all under 8 years old, to the PG-13 movie last night. Nice move, hey, while you are at it, buy them some ciggies and beer on the way home.

Things that make me nuts:

Loud cell phone talkers during dinner.

People who believe Yield means, "Just mash in...but do it fast"

People who stand on your heels at the check out lane.
(If you were any closer, you would be in front of me)

People who ding the crap out of your parked car.
(increases the resale value, Im sure)

Full grown adults who don't cover their cough or sneezing.
(thanks, I needed another cold)

Anyone in customer service that calls me 'hun'.
(Okay, sweetcheeks, I'll have a coffee refill)

People who fill out their forms at the bank drive-through...when they finally get to the window
(I forgot my time is just not important anymore)

People who wear so much cologne that your eyes water when they walk by.

Tall people that don't stand up straight.

Women who wear black nylons with white shoes.

People who pace with your car on the highway.

Those who talk loudly during a movie.

Those who double park or park in the handicap space and have no permit.
(Gee, I had my hazards on!!!)

Women who hike their thong underwear up so it shows out their pants.
(Hello? underwear)

People with 'Kerry - Edwards' stickers still on their car.

People who smack their gum.
(Hint: Purchase mirror and practice gum chewing for 10 minutes while gazing upon your cud-chewing face. Now do you get it?)

So, tell me......what makes you nuts?

16 July 2005

I Don't Feel Tardy

School time is drawing near and I actually got the school supplies early this year. Shedding a tear now.

There I was, passing other parents in the isle at Office Supply/Depot store. We stood between glue sticks and colored pencils, almost swallowed up by the towering stacks of wide-ruled 150 count paper. I would catch a parents eye and we would acknowledge each other with sheet white complexions, palpitating hearts, a nod, and an unspoken word.

We dare not say it: How much this cost us? Bank robbery? Banks don't hold that kind of cash.

I have now purchased all that will get their gray matter moving. At a grand price of $101. This is not counting lunches, music, snack fees, snack fee taxes, snack fee taxes on the taxes. Clothes and shoes will come next month to prepare myself for yet other blow to my checkbook. I have three in elementary school. Cripes. I can't imagine what high school will be like.

My children were so excited, eyeing the bags of 'goodies' until they pounced on them in the privacy of our own living room. My children have not yet gotten the 'school is really work' memo. But admit it, school supplies are fun to open, sniff, and pet. They even helped me pick out the supplies in ignorant bliss or maybe it was my constant bombardment that school really is cool. I liked school growing up. I was also homeschooled, so we had to buy a lot of supply goods.

Now, I can tell what you are thinking. You have visions of domesticated girls in floor-length, hand-sewn dresses standing over their Magna Carta needpoint and hand-rolled candles while reciting the Gettysburg Address. We weren't like that all the time.

Snow days as a homeschooler were completely unfair and we couldn't be tardy if we wanted to. I never had a locker or prom. I never had a crush on my "Teach" and believe me, the class reunions are unbearably boring. But being Valedictorian of my class was a plus.

Now for the big disclaimer so I do not get loads of disapproving mail by those who live by the homeschool creed. Which by the way is: If you got kids...Homeschool them.

So, this is for you: If you homeschool? Good for you. Do what is best for your family. It is super that there are parents that are that organized and inspired to teach their kids at home. I am not one of them. I would never again use that recipe for homemade candles nor would I teach my children at home.

And to all you parents who feel it best to 'shelter' your young adult children and homeschool them. I beg you, teach them to think. Use their noggins. Use that gray matter above their shoulders. If you want to prepare your children for the 'real world', teach them how to think for themselves and give them the best tools and information to do that. If this includes homeschooling, more power to you.

PS. For all you homeschooling high schooler. Take the GED regardless of whether or not you are going to college. Government jobs require a GED or diploma regardless as do many medical professions and college programs. You may not use it later on but it's not a lovely hoop to jump through years after high school. Just saying....

~Bee likes beeswax candles

03 July 2005

Bridget Jones has nothing on me

Diary of a Mad Out-Of-Shape White Woman

Weight: 100 and plenty
Weight dropped in two weeks: 12 lbs (kinda fast, I know, but not drinking soda)
General Mood: Encouraged
Bottles of water today: 2
Junk Food/Sweets: None
Number of minutes on treadmill: 22 min.
Number of minutes I wanted to kill treadmill: 22 min.
Number of times I said you can do it: A Zillion.

23 June 2005

Can't Blink Eye

So, weekends a comin' and gettin over a lovely case of pinkeye. Blech. Never had conjuctivitis before, Im sure I got it at the grocery..those carts make me nuts. We are between insurance companies, so of course, I don't care to flush 150 bucks down the drain for a Dr. to tell me, "Gee, that looks like pinkeye". So I go to Dr. On. You know him? Dr. Online-Self-Diagnosis. (I LOVE HIM!)

Slap a couple of warm green tea bags on the eyes twice a day for about 10 minutes. VOILA! Worked like a charm.

School is out this week for my kiddies and the play structure will soon be put to full use. I love summer...sleeping in all the way to 8am.

off to pick up my son.....

04 May 2005

plus 7 minutes equals coffee please.

The newspaper is always a welcome read when couched between the 6am hour, and sipping a cup of strong, black coffee. MM good....

Coffee in the NW can be a full experience where you also receive a complimentary fork with your latte. Ask for the grounds and save the trouble.

I'm not a typical morning person, chipper, cheery, and bounding out of bed like Pollyanna. I am the very reason they make snooze alarms. I can't get out of bed at 5am like the weirdos dropping off children in the carpool lane.

These women are machines. Stepford Moms with perfectly finished hair, makeup, sporting cheery faces along with their clean and ironed outfits. I do not think they sleep. They probably don't have breakfast stuck in their teeth and not wearing yesterday's eyeliner around their chin.

There are dads, with travel mugs and clean (matching!) shirt and jeans. They are shaved. They smell nice. I don't know how they do this. They are sipping hot coffee and not wearing their pajamas. They are married to those Stepford Wives, no doubt.

If I had to choose, and there are days...I'd go in pj's and buy my cup of coffee.

Choices. Choices.

I chose to sleep in 7 minute increments through the 6am hour. In between math calculations and hitting 'SNOOZE', I rationalizing the time difference between toothbrush, armpit fresh, and out the door with the minuscule time I leave myself to get the kids to school without breaking land speed records. Last possible second, I am bouncing out of bed, frantic with less than a minute to spare.

Why do I do this to myself?

If my shoes match and I don't have breath that would curl wallpaper, I'm really doing well. If I get up early to focus on the day (No road raging), and prepare for what the day unfolds.

Either way, I will still need my cup of coffee or at least coffee grounds. I'm not picky.

~Bee is good at long division.

19 April 2005

Free Is a Very Good Price

Do you ever get commercials so stuck in your head that you can't get rid of them? My kids saw the Mattress World truck pull up next door and while loading in the van for school, my children serenaded the driver at about 200 decibles,


I am certain their drivers receive this kind of melodic abuse regularly. I remember as a child, reacting the same way to anything free. Tom Peterson's (was and is) a furniture / electronic store that gave away stuff with your purchase. He is now a retail legend in Portland, OR and as any Pacific NW native could vouch, "Free IS a very good price."

In other news, I got a care package from sweet AJ yesterday!! Full of goodies like sweets, a very cool notebook, an itty bitty light, and a fancy, pocket-sized toothpick holder which hubby immediately confiscated for his own. There is nothing that says manly like a your own toothpick holder. Thank you AJ, you are a sweetie!!

With the holdiays gone and back to the grind, I've been selling more things on half.com. I saw this $125 clock on eBay and I want it. Fifteen years ago, Dapoppins had one just like it and when we were roomies (technically, it was just me coming over to her apartment) this thing would blare you out of bed. It was so loud, I though it would make me sterile, "HEY! BABY WAKE UP, COME AND DANCE WITH ME!!"

I have fond memories of the rock and roll chicken clock.

Mr. Coffee and I have been looking for jobs. I'm not living in a van down by the river next month. No, I'm not whining. I promised myself and my friends that I wouldn't. I'm waiting to hear about my first interview. It's been interesting seeing the questions on the applications.

Describe your proficiency in Access, Outlook, Excel, Word....

Let's put this in perspective. When I left full-time employment, dial-up was king, Pentium 2's were all the rage, and iPod's weren't even heard of. You see my problem here?

I googled, I learned, I have another skill going on my resume thanks to HP. Hewlett Packard is my new favorite, aside from having their all-in-one scanner, printer, fax, copier, camera docker thingie, their website offers free classes.

Maybe this will give me the confidence to go on to an actual College. We'll see...

08 March 2005

Mount St. Helens

The view out my front lawn today. Amazing that Mount St. Helens is that near to me. We won't get any ash, just a white steam emission today. This makes me feel very small.

26 February 2005

Fat jeans

I woke up this morning with a cold and to top it off, I couldn't move my legs.





Man do I hurt. I feel so old. What possessed me to go that extra 8 minutes on the treadmill? Sheer will power and a quest for health. Well, that and my 'fat' jeans getting tight. Lord love 'em. Don't scoff! Every girl has a pair of fat jeans. I am not alone in this. Cindy Crawford has a pair of fat jeans. Actresses with skeleton frames..they don't have fat jeans. They just wear the latest in GAP kids denim.

I am so out of shape I can barely reach to the back of the fridge. I swear I would never get like this...yeah, blah, blah, blah, you've heard it before. I used to be the epitome of health. I modeled swimsuits, ran 3 miles every other day with my faithful Walkman. I went to the gym, ate right.

(Call the waaambulance!)

All the right things. Now, I'm lucky to get in a 20 min walk on my treadmill....why? Because I'm lazy, too busy or too dang tired. Or maybe because blogging has taken over my life. I don't know. I no longer do the drive-through biggie-sized heart attacks, fries, etc. I have quit drinking soda and eating after 6:30pm. I'm hoping to be healthy and in shape by my next birthday but realistically, I won't fool myself. I don't ever want to wear a GAP size 6x. I want to be healthy.


Done complaining now.

Here's to September and Cindy Crawford's fat jeans.

19 January 2005

The Cake Hole Tour

Do you know there actually is a band named Cake? Like the food. My sister just told me about this band and I just laughed. Cake..Really? I guess it's better than a band called something like, Your Mom.

"Dude! I totally love Your Mom! Your Mom rocks!"

Band names crack me up but what is even funnier are bands that tour together that really shouldn't solely due to their band name. Work with me here....

For instance, if Cake should ever tour with Hole it would be The Cake Hole Tour.

I decided to put together my own top ten list of bands that should never tour together. Here they are in no particular order:

Snow Patrol with Dead or AliveEarth, Wind and Fire with Jet
Bananarama with The Monkeys
Kings X
with Queen
Thievery Corporation
with The Police
The Cure
with The Fixx
with Flock of Seagulls
Pink Martini
with Smashmouth
The Shins
with Switchfoot
Isn't that fun? I think the Cake Hole Tour is still my favorite.