I Am a Writer!!!

Quote of the Day: I try to take one day at a time -- but sometimes several days attack me at once.

I don't know what happened yesterday, I sat down and read the first chapter of my middle-grade novel, and just started typing. Finally at midnight I got too tired to write and realized that I'd cranked out nearly 3000 words. Wow! I changed my little word counter, on which I've happily broken the 5000 word barrier! I really got lost in the story, and remembered how fun it was to be 14, (only I didn't have an eccentric uncle who lived in a sprawling mansion filled with secrets--but my heroine does. And she's having a ball).

I'm sitting here perturbed because there's a rain delay at Wimbledon, all I can say is GO LINDSAY DAVENPORT!!! I really want her to win this one. She hasn't won a grand slam in 5 years.

Okay, I'm officially hooked on "Dancing With the Stars." Watched it last night (before I started writing) Man, I have decided I could NEVER do the Foxtrot. I'd butcher the Fox, and it would be dead. 'Nuff said on that one.

I took the boys for haircuts yesterday, and told the lady that I wanted Thing Three's hair to stay "longer on top" because he's really skinny and looks funny if his hair is close shaven. Well, she took that razor and shaved it all off, including the top. Didn't even bother to follow what I asked her to do. I was upset at first, but then I realized that he's four and he's little and it will look fine in a week.
I'll just have to have a little boy who looks like he wandered out of Auschwitz for a while. He looks positively emaciated. UGH. I hate it when hair people don't follow directions! Needless to say, I'll never go back to her.

Okay, yesterday I laughed and laughed until I cried over this website; it's another bashing (and sound trashing) of Romance novel covers gone awry. I feel bad for these poor romance novelists, who get saddled with these awful covers, but hey, it makes great fodder for our mindless entertainment. You can view the website here. (Caution: there's strong language so be warned. But get ready to laugh your a** off!)

Well I need to go off and don my Donna Reed pearls and heels and vacuum and dust. (I have a sneaking suspicion that the dust bunnies down in the basement have evolved into Dust DEER, so immediate action is required.)
As Kip would say in Napoleon Dynamite:

Peace out.

Pet-Peeve Day

Harry Potter Book Excerpt of the Day: Dudley had done the thing he was threatening to to do since age three: He had become wider than he was tall...

My Irish/Russian temper came out a little bit yesterday. I have pet peeves like most people, but it might be a tad overkillish when on some days, EVERYTHING is a pet peeve.

Yesterday was one of those days. I got stuck not once, not twice, but THREE times behind "Putters." (comes from the "put-put-put" sound a reallllly slow car makes). Putters are slow drivers.
Now, I am no speed-demon leadfoot myself, I only go 5 miles over the limit (or so I have since my last speeding ticket, I swear!). But SHEESH people! When the speed limit is 35 and you are going 25, WE HAVE A PROBLEM.

I think I inherited my father's ability to get mad somehow at EVERYONE who drives on the road, and I need to watch myself, because my kids now think that every other car on the road besides me is an "Idiot" or a "moron." I don't want to teach my kids bad things like that. But sometimes I can't help myself. Because some people really DO drive like idiots and morons!

Then at the grocery store, I got stuck behind the Lady Who Had A Coupon For Everything (37 items) and of course wrote a check for it all and the check was not in the system and she had to find her ID and by the time it was my turn I was about to kill her AND my kids since they had literally touched every candy bar in the candy stand. (Curse the fellow who thought up putting the candy stand right where little fingers could grab while Mommy was distracted--it certainly wasn't a WOMAN who thought of that!)

The Dry-cleaners, by some fluke, crushed every other button on my hubby's highly expensive dress shirts, and I had to wait while they replaced them all, (while my kids begged for tootsie rolls out of the basket on the counter seventeen times).

THEN I sat next to a mom at Thing Three's T-ball game (okay, these kids are FOUR years old) and she screamed and yelled at her son for assorted things like running in the wrong direction/not catching the ball/catching the ball and then not throwing it to First Base/kicking dirt at the other kids/etc.. by the end of the game I wanted to strangle her with her own hair scrunchie. I kid you not.

So, I was a little testy yesterday. Hopefully today will prove a little lower on the Blood Pressure Scale...but who knows. I am making my kids clean the basement today, and they might all end up in their rooms...especially when I find all the crap they've hidden down there this past week...(petrified fishsticks in the sofa cushions, etc.)

Breathe, Lara. Breathe...

Centipede Smoothies?

Quote of the Day: A male gynecologist is like an auto mechanic who never owned a car.--Carrie Snow

-I am the Smoothie Queen. I bought a Smoothie Mixer last week, and the Windows of Heaven have opened (only to zap me with the proverbial DUH!! Lightingbolt, I am sure).
Why didn't I buy one before now? I mean, nothing bad can be said about a yummy, thick, flavorful shake made out of fresh fruit and ice! Yay! I've been making one every day, for lunch. Stick a couple of packets of Splenda in it and Voila!

-We've been having a Centipede problem. They are all over our house! In Houston it was Roaches, in Dallas it was ants and here it's been spiders, but Centipedes? I didn't know they were even pests! All I know is that I killed five of them in the house yesterday (mostly by the back door but one in the basement and one upstairs) and my dog is having a ball, seemingly supplementing his diet with the little buggers. And these are the big, juicy ones, by the way. I mean, do I need to call an Exterminator? YUCK.

Of course it would help if all my kids weren't horribly afraid of bugs.
Thing One runs through the whole house screaming with her hands in the air whenever she encounters a Creepy Crawly (let's just say that Mosquito Eaters put her into near cardiac arrest).
Thing Two, well, frankly, I worry about him. He's going to be teased relentlessly in school someday because one tiny ant can make him pee his pants in terror. And I'm not kidding. He has a bona fide Bug Phobia.
Which brings us to Thing Three, who, in typical boy fashion, has only a passing curiosity of bugs (except spiders--he doesn't "do" spiders) and loves to torment his older brother with any bug that comes to hand.

I hope Thing Two never becomes a spy for the Government. All the enemy would have to do would be to tie him up and dangle a grashopper in front of him and he'd tell them everything they want, and more. I think I need to look into ways we can help him with the bug phobia.

Well, July is around the corner and I am excited for several reasons, the Fourth (also my puppy's First birthday!) and of COURSE the 16th, for all you Harry Potter fans (17 days, 17 days!) and it's the month full of parades and warm weather and popsicles and VACATION. I love July. Bring it on!

But for now, I need to focus on my to do list for today: Grocery Store, boys' haircuts, Target (for another birthday present) T-Ball and Gymnastics.

Go Me...

What happened to PB&J??

Quote of the Day: If high heels were so wonderful, men would still be wearing them.--Sue Grafton

I am getting some unusual lunch requests lately. I let Each of the Things 1,2 and 3 invite ONE friend over for lunch a week (got smart from last year when we were having the entire neighborhood kid population over for lunch two or three times a week) and I always ask them "what would you like?"
Now by this I mean: How do you like your Peanut Butter and Jelly? but kids lately have been asking for some weird things. Just last week I served Jam and Cream Cheese sandwiches, Peanut butter and bananas, and my personal favorite: Turkey and Doritos on Wheat.

What happened to the NORMAL sandwiches?

Now by normal, I am thinking PB&J, Tuna salad, Grilled Cheese, etc. But these kids lately are weirding me out. I drew the line at Peanut Butter and Pickles for one child. That is just wrong, plain and simple. Sort of like the people who eat apples and cheese together. WRONG.

I guess I'm not really one to talk, my dad made us eat Peanut Butter and Mayonnaise sandwiches when we were young. (No, that is not a typo.) Thanks to Dad. Nothing fills us up like a bunch of FAT, pressed between two slices of white bread. EW. I have nightmares about those sandwiches. Could we claim Child Abuse over those? (KIDDING!)

Had a good weekend. Didn't write a word, but I did double workouts on Saturday (jogged three miles and then did weights) and I am DETERMINED to get in shape. No more Pilsbury Dough Girl for me. (Guess I'd better stop buying the stuff!)

We have been getting some much-needed rain as of late, and the lawns are finally turning green again. I still marvel over Super-Green Lawn Guy behind our house though. I am not sure how he does it.
There is this one house a block over, and I think people come in their cars from far and near to goggle at this guy's lawn, because it's such an oddity. Especially since all the lawns in our neighborhood have been suffering lately. The lawn is GREEN. And I don't mean just the shade, but it's THICK and LUXURIOUS and the perfect shade, and it's evenly green and well...just about the "perfectest" lawn I've ever seen.
What's weird about that is that they don't have a sprinkler system, so technically it should be patchy, at best, since all the lawns on that block are either patchy from random sprinkling or dead altogether. I never see them water (I walk my dog daily past their house) and I never see them mowing the lawn or taking care of it. It's just...THERE. Like some mystical magical lawn that will never die, or something like that. It's all a mystery.
My daughter suggested that the lawn is haunted, or a ghost lawn. (you go, writer spawn!) But I guess it will just have to be "up there" with Nessie, and The Pyramids, and Stonehenge.

I think this week I'm going to SIT myself down and up the word count on my novels. It's about darn tootin' time. I've put it off an entire week. Time to WRITE!!

Fatigue and the Frozen Tundra that is my House...

Quote of the Day: "My second favorite household chore is ironing. My first being, hitting my head on the top bunk bed until I faint."--Erma Bombeck

OH MY HECK I am so tired! My hubby is killing me. Literally. He is insisting that I work out with him every night (and the workouts are getting later and later--we worked out at 10:30 last night) and then of course after we collapse into bed, he is up at 3am fiddling with the air conditioner because he is "too hot" and "can't sleep."
Maybe it was because he was born in Alaska (his parents were transferred there) and he wants to "get back to his roots" or something, because lately, it's been 95 degrees, and apparently he feels the need to compensate by keeping sub-arctic temperatures inside the house. (I politely suggested that we might as well hang our children up in the basement on meat hooks while they watch TV--since the basement temperatures resembled a meat locker. You know it's bad when you can see your breath inside your own home.) He didn't appreciate that comment much, but tough toodles. I will admit it was bordering on the Snide...I am very adept at snide comments.

You see, Hubby and I have the misfortune of having the warmest room in the house (I swear all the heat rises to OUR room) and so to cool our room down, the rest of the house has to be VERY cold at night. But it never seems cold enough, lately.

Here's the routine as of late (usually taking place at 3am in the morning):

Hubby: (tossing and turning) I’m hot! I can’t sleep! Did you turn the air up?

Me: (groaning) No, I did not turn the air up. Why would I?

Hubby: You must have, because I’m roasting.

Me: You're right. I secretly crept downstairs and put the air on 80. Open a window.

Hubby: (unintelligible muttering) No! It’s still 90 degrees outside!

Me: **yawn* then turn the air down!

Hubby: I will!

Then he throws off the sheets, and stumbles downstairs, and moments later I hear the air kick on.
Then it’s back upstairs for Round Two: The Ceiling Fan War:

The Dreaded Ceiling Fan. This has been a source of discord in our marriage since, well, The Beginning. The reason? I can't sleep with a fan on my face. I always wake up with fever blisters on my lips and a sore throat, it seems. But DESPITE this fact, Hubby insists on having the fan on at full speed (and every house we lived in it always was directly above the bed) and I'm sorry, I just can't fall asleep with my hair and sheets blowing about like I'm in a wind tunnel.

So, I usually win the Ceiling Fan Debate, and we have it on the setting just below "High". But lately, after he turns the air down, I’ve been losing the Fan War.

Just this morning, I woke up with icicles on my nose--and the kids were all curled up instinctively like pill bugs in their beds, to ward off the cold. Poor things, I had to heap covers on them to get them to loosen up. Maybe it's because the air was SET TO 73 DEGREES!!! (Arrgh!)
Of course Snide Comment Me resisted the urge to ask the kids (very loudly) if they wanted a mug of HOT CHOCOLATE, and we opted for hot oatmeal instead.

MEN. My poor mother in law suffers the same fate. She freezes in winter because her "always hot" hubby won't turn on the heat, and she freezes in summer because he likes to keep the air on a frosty 72 degrees. BRRRRRR.

So, I keep the air on 76 during the day, and turn it waayyyy down right before hubby comes home from work.

But that still doesn't solve the "I'm-so-tired-I'm-going-to-slip-into-a-coma" problem. How can I function when all I want to do is lay on the sofa while my kids "make bubbles" in the basement? Caffiene doesn't work. It makes me jittery. I need to find something, and quick.

Hmmm, that living room sofa is looking very comfy right about now…**snore**

Great Day

Harry Potter Book Excerpt of the Day: "So light a fire!" Harry choked."Yes...of course...but there's no wood!" Hermione cried, wringing her hands."HAVE YOU GONE MAD!" Ron bellowed, "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT!"

Yesterday was a GREAT day. I mean, it was one of those days that just seemed so wonderful at the end of the day, from the time we all got up, to the time we collapsed in bed.
We had a yummy middle-of-the-week breakfast, then the power promptly went out at 8:30 (causing me some deep reflection and soul searching, not to mention a very productive trip to Target with the kids)
Then we came back home and had lunch outside (power was back on by then) and enjoyed the sunshine.
We did the normal routine until Hubby came home, then we made tacos as a family and the kids actually ate their dinner (go kids!) and then we all went outside (Daddy too--he wasn't too tired tonight) and rode bikes for a while, then went and had a Family game of Catch in the backyard, (heavily dosed with mosquito repellent) until we could barely see the ball because the sun had gone down.
Then it was back inside for vanilla icecream with chocolate syrup in wafflecone bowls, and to bed for the kids.
Hubby and I worked out, and spent some QT together, and went to bed.
Yes, this is a boring post, but I just had such a great day yesterday, I had to share.

Summer is about the only time I can stand Wisconsin. Man, I love this time of year!

On the Writing Front: yes, it's horribly embarrassing to admit that my little novel-progress counters on this blog haven't budged all week. I just haven't written anything. Not one stinkin' word. I think I need to remedy that today--after I've cleaned the whole house, bathed the dog, gone to the store and the cleaners and done 7 loads of laundry.

Bah.

A Stark Reminder...

Harry Potter Book Excerpt of the Day: "We tried to shut him in a pyramid, but Mum spotted us."–George Weasley

Power went out this morning, around 8:30. I didn't panic at first, but two hours later, when it was still off--well, I began to be a tad concerned.

It's supposed to be 90 degrees today. I have a freezer stuffed to the gills in the garage with all our grilling meat (I was ticking off in my head who we might need to invite (a.k.a the whole neighborhood) for a grill-over if it all thawed--YIKES)--not to mention the inconveniences of having digital phone/cable/hi speed internet all in one, which means I was in the Regency Era for a couple of hours. All I had was running water, and that was about it.

Luckily, my kids love to read, so they hunkered down in the basement guestroom where its cool, and Thing One entertained her brothers with stories for a while.

Me? I wandered aimlessly about the house, completely lost. No computer. No phone. Couldn't wash anything--no power. Couldn't play outside--too darn hot. So, we did what any other family would do in a power-outage crisis--I piled the kids in the car and we headed off to Target.

We had to go anyway, Thing One has a birthday party to go to today, and we needed a present. And we needed paper towels. What did we come home with? Let me see:

-One skirt, (for me)
-Two shirts and a pair of pants (for Thing One)
-1 birthday present,
-1 Tennis Racket (for Thing Two),
-one pack of Shuttlecocks,
-one jump rope
-one picnic basket/tote thingy complete with plastic dishes in RED
-one paddle ball set (for Thing Three),
-three pairs of flip-flops
-2 boxes of Junior Mints.

SHEESH.

I forgot the @#%&**!! Paper Towels.

So now that the power is on, and I'm sitting in my comfy air-conditioned office, I need to count my blessings--because I think I would shrivel up and die without all the modern comforts I enjoy. I really am quite spoiled. Today was a stark reminder that I have a LOT to be thankful for.
Every single day.

I Only Have 4000 Things to Do...

Quote of the Day: "The only real diet: If it tastes good ... spit it out."

I'd love to blog today, really I would. If I didn't have to run to the cleaners, the bank, the grocery store, the post office, the library, the video store, the vet, the mall, and Target, I would blog.

But I just don't have TIME!!!

Have a good day, all!

Interesting Weekend

FAVORITE HARRY POTTER BOOK EXCERPT OF THE DAY:
"Oh Professor look! I think I found an unaspected planet! Oooh, which one's that, Professor?"
"It is Uranus my dear," said Professor Trelawney peering down at the chart.
"Can I have a look at Uranus too, Lavender?" said Ron.
Most unfortunately, Professor Trelawney heard him, and it was this, perhaps, that made her give them so much homework at the end of the class.


The weekend was good. Busy, but good. Things of note:

-Spent most of the weekend getting over being AGHAST that Tom proposed to Katie (wow--they've only been dating for SIX weeks!) I still think it's a tad SQUICKY how controlling Tom Cruise seems to be, DOES ANYONE ELSE OUT THERE NOTICE THIS??? (Summarily shoved this opinion into my “Needs To Get A Life” file and was over it. Period.) Moving on…

-Wore my hair curly all weekend (has natural curl but I usually blow it straight)

-Saw BATMAN BEGINS, spent most of the two hour and twenty minute movie sunk into my Pepsi-stained movie theatre chair with my senses being pounded into a pulp—a little dark for my taste but had the proper amount of gratuitous chase scenes, etc. HOWEVER the chemistry between Bale and Holmes couldn’t have been a selling point for the movie, because it was about as flat as left-out-overnight-Ginger Ale, but who’s judging…

-Went out with some people we’ve been wanting to go out with for quite some time SANS KIDS, but haven’t been able to before now because either A)Hubby has been traveling or B) The forces of Nature have been against it.

I am sad. I am wonder if writers are meant to be solitary people sometimes. Since I’ve moved to Wisconsin I haven’t had any real girl friends and that’s 90% my fault, but I am beginning to wonder if I ever will have any. My kids and my writing are my life. Doesn’t leave much room for much else. Although it would be nice to hang out with the girls once in a while, I just never seem to get around to it. And of course I married someone who is VERY social, Hubby loves to go out and do things with people, and we tend to butt heads over what to do on a Friday night:

Hubby: Hey, Honey, Let’s go see ( name of movie premiering that weekend) tonight and maybe go to dinner as well.
Me: That sounds fabulous. But you’re forgetting about something. Well, actually Three Somethings. What will we do with them?
Hubby: Get a sitter.
Me: Um, impossible on short notice. People need TIME to prepare to watch our kids—it’s something you work up to mentally, remember?
Hubby: That’s crazy.
Me: Sweetie, I’d like nothing more than to say it could happen. But it ain’t.
Hubby: BAH.
Me: Okay. So it’s either going to Chilis with the kids and seeing (name of CHILDS movie that is premiering that weekend) with the kids or we just rent a video and order sushi and eat in. Like we did last week. And the week before.
Hubby: Or we could shoot ourselves.
Me: Yeah, we could.

So, until Thing One is old enough to babysit her brothers, we’re doomed to be at the mercy of the sitter. (Who, by the way we have to pay a MINT so that she’ll actually come back and watch our kids the next time we ask her.)

-In Harry Potter news: here is a story about the BACK cover art for HBP being released, (CAUTION: don’t read ahead if you’re one of those FREAKY people who can’t abide SPOILERS):
In putting two and two together, look at the back of the jacket—you clearly see some sort of underground river, with a small boat and a small island with what appears to be a Pensieve perched on the middle of it (this is the U.K. version)


...and when you pair it with the FRONT of the U.S. version, (which, sadly, they won't release the Back Cover Art for, for some reason) you see Harry and Dumbledore peering into what looks like the same thing:

THEREFORE-- it is safe to conclude that Harry and Dumbledore had to travel through some underground cave by boat, to find this pensieve/ancient goblet/bird fountain thingy and they both are alarmed/freaked/amazed at what they see inside. WHAT DOES IT MEAN???

ARRGHHH!! July 16 is TAKING ITS SWEET TIME IN COMING!

Sunlight Breaking Through the Clouds...

Quote of the Day: "I have lost my gift."--Will Shakespeare, Shakespeare In Love

Eureka, I've found mine again! Or so it would seem. I have a story that's been brewing in my mind for a long time now, and as my friend Michelle is so fond of quoting, I just "got the sh*t down" last night, until about 2am this morning.

I finally just started writing it, and it was like a flood of words bursting out of a broken dam of stagnation, breaking away chunks of masonry and washing away all the moss and lichen-covered rocks that had been blocking everything for so long.

I realized two things: 1): Now is NOT the time for focusing solely on my YA novel (my agent will not be happy to hear this) but to divide my time between it and my new middle-grade mystery idea (which he will be VERY happy to hear, because he reps childrens' Fiction).

And 2): If I write about something I LOVE, it will be easier to stay excited about it. Duh.
I love History and Archaeology and unsolved mysteries. I love old things and have always dreamed about visiting the Past--to see how it all worked during a certain time period.

So, since I can't personally do it, why can't my heroine? That's all I'll say for now, but I am going to definitely have a lot of fun with this one! The floodgates are OPEN. Woo HOO!

Unfortunately I have a house to tidy and kids to entertain. Guess my heroine's adventures will have to wait until tonight.

URGH.

Here's Hagan!

Our Irish "puppy" will be one year old July 4th!

Lame Post Day.

Quote of the Day: (and one of my personal faves):
"If you can't be an athlete, be an athletic supporter!"--Eve Arden (Principal McGee) in Grease

My energy is lagging today. Got hubby off to Chicago for a few days, and now I know it's a mad scramble to get everything done that I wanted to for Father's Day weekend, but frankly, my energy is gone.
I think it's all the working out (and eating less) I've been doing. It's wearing me out. I want to take a nap every day, for Pete's sake, and that's not me.
Luckily my kids have been wonderful so far. They are very good at entertaining themselves--they only need a nudge now and then in the right direction.
I have no energy to write.
I have no energy to do much of anything but shuffle through the house, doing odd cleaning jobs. And of course tonight we have triple sports night.

Time for a diet Cherry Coke!
Bah.

So much for Scratch...

Quote of the Day: "Money can't buy you happiness, but it does bring you a more pleasant form of misery."--Spike Milligan

It was raining this morning so I couldn't do my 3-mile jog. It was fine with me anyway, because I have KILLER shin splints. My hubby has this toe-tapping exercise he's shown me that will help ease them, but it doesn't seem to be working. So, I get a break today. I am not going to be one of those crazy people who runs every day, rain or shine. (Granted, I admire their dedication to their exercise, but I like to be at least DRY when I run!)

In other news, I find it highly ironic, that we've been waiting since MARCH to have these landscaping people work on our yard, and now, that they're finally here (and it hasn't rained the 3 weeks previous except maybe one day) it's been RAINING EVERY BLOODY DAY!!!
Yes, highly ironic.

Here's more irony for you--we were out of packaged pancake mix, and in a burst of I'm-not-sure-what-kind-of-energy, I decided to make pancakes from scratch this morning. (Granted, breakfast for us usually consists of cereal, oatmeal or toast and juice, Pancakes are rare and "special")
"Today IS a special day," I thought. After all, it's the only day of the week we have absolutely NO summer sports: no swimming, T-ball, Tennis or Gymnastics. WHEW!

So I got out the cookbook, and made some beautiful pancakes. In no time, Things 1-3 were stumbling down the stairs in their jammies, because they could "smell something good."
They started eating, and Thing One immediately made a face. "These taste funny."

"That's because I made them myself," I answered back crisply. "But if you don't like them you can throw them out and not have anything for breakfast this morning, if that's your choice."

She took a few more half-hearted bites, and then carried the entire plate to the trash. I was a little perturbed, and angrily told her to at least drink her milk.
At least Things 2 and 3 aren't so discerning, they ate most of their breakfast, but OF COURSE followed their older sister's lead and announced that their pancakes "tasted funny" too. URGH.

So much for scratch cooking. Have I been such a lazy cook in my own home that my kids prefer packaged mixes to the Real Thing? Afterwards I had half a mind to go through the pantry and throw out every box and package right then and there. But then I realized that I would be throwing out roughly 90% of the food we have. Very, very sad.

I am going to try and cook more "scratch" meals from now on. My kids are not going to be "Spaghettios Kids." (only on triple-sports nights, heh heh--there's no TIME!) I have resolved to be better.

We'll see how long I last...

Swimsuit Season... (ARGH!!)

Quote of the Day: "Once had a rose named after me and I was very flattered. But I was not pleased to read the description in the catalogue: "No good in a bed, but fine up against a wall."--Eleanor Roosevelt

July is upon us, and frankly, the weather in June has been so warm here, it has hastened the advent of the season I dread the most: Swimsuit. Argh. Urgh. (Lara makes pirate noises)
The dreaded time of year I am happy to hide inside and avoid. Or else I want to wear a full-body Mumu and only have the tip of my nose poking out. I have a skinny nose, I've been told. So at least that's the part I'll show.

Granted, Swimsuit Season was over for me (indefinitely) around 1997. That’s when the Metabolism Fairy more or less thumbed her nose at me and went on to better and greener (and teenier) pastures.
So in preparation for this dreaded time of year, I have begun jogging three miles every morning, at 5:30. Hopefully by the time next month rolls around, I will not be rolling around so much and I’ll be ready for the adorable tankini set I have hanging solitarily in the very, very back of my closet.

It’s hard for a stay-home mom to stay rail thin. Unless she has excellent metabolism (I have a few friends who do, and frankly, I hate them because I have to work at looking good, and they do mostly NOTHING).
The temptations for stay-home moms are abundant. The Kitchen, for example, is the central part of the house—and we’re always passing through it, always fixing food for the kids, other adult family members, etc. The fridge calls to me. The Pantry calls to me. I’ve considered wearing earmuffs when I walk by.
Let’s just say I chew a LOT of sugarless gum these days. I am determined to be worthy of the Tankini. I can already feel myself getting stronger from the jogging, but it makes me so tired I am ready to fall over face forward by dinntertime. I just need to get my body used to it.
Bring on Swimsuit season, and be damned! I’ll be ready!

Ahem. Okay. In other news, I am happy to announce that by some miracle a spot opened up in summer Gymnastics and Thing Three was able to get into the class. She starts tonight, and she is off her head with joy. Yesterday I tallied the results for the first day of Summer Vacation:

-Number of times Things 1,2 & 3 said “I’m Bored!”—6
-Number of times they used some version of “Bored” or “Boring” in a sentence: 13
-Number of times I made them pull weeds for saying they were bored: 1 (I need to work on that!)
-Number of times Thing One asked to go swimming: 8
-Number of times I had to pull Thing Two off the Gamecube and shove him outside: 5
-Number of snacks doled out to neighborhood children: 12
-Number of times I wanted to shut myself in my room and scream: 2

Hopefully those statistics will get better, as time goes by. Gotta keep em’ busy!

The Beginning of Summer

QUOTE OF THE DAY: “I will eviscerate you in fiction…I was naked for a day, but you will be naked for Eternity.”—Chaucer, A Knight’s Tale

Random question of the day: Why is it that your kids play their WORST soccer when you’re filming them for posterity, and as soon as you put the video camera away in embarrassment, they go on to score two goals and five major assists and play the best they ever have?

It's all a mystery.

A few fellow soccer moms and I were lamenting that fact on Saturday, during Thing One’s last soccer game of the season. To put it kindly, all of the girls on her team were playing horribly bad, and at one point their coach yelled out at the field in exasperation: “Did you girls all have a sleepover or something? WAKE UP!!” Thank heaven they did wake up (AFTER I put the camera away) and won the game. Close one, if you ask me. (At least Thing One did well in the water balloon fight afterwards-- I did get some stellar footage of her braining one of her coaches with a major water bomb).

Weekend was busy, I got absolutely no writing done, but my goal is about 1000 words a day every day this week. Going to make myself sit down and do it. I also have a lot of running around to do, which should be interesting to do with all of my children since school is now out for summer.

I have decided that my kids are officially old enough for (drum roll please) CHORES. Granted they have been doing chores sporadically for a few years now, so the concept of chores isn’t entirely foreign to them, but I think until they get into the “swing” of doing chores on a routine basis, said chores will be right up there on the Enjoyment Factor List with…say, going to the Dentist and taking cough medicine.
But I’m determined to do it. I’m making up these cute chore charts too. And I’ll go to Walmart and buy a bunch of dollar toys, and put them into a huge basket. Every Saturday, if they’ve done their chores for the week, they will get to pick out of the basket. I’ll let you know if it works.

I have about 6 men currently in my yard—they’re trenching out our downspouts, re-mulching our flower beds, replacing our shrubs and trees that died in the winter (all of my shrub roses perished—wahhhh!) and so I guess we won’t be playing on our playground for a couple of days. My kids are already whining, so I guess we’ll be having lunch at the neighborhood park today.

Ah, the beginning of Summer…

Oh NO They Didn’t! (Yes they did!)

QUOTE OF THE DAY: "It is impossible to travel faster than the speed of light, and certainly not desirable, as one's hat keeps blowing off."—Woody Allen

Okay, this is too funny. Don’t you love it when people actually DO what you only "think of doing" in your head? Let’s hear it for this brave (OR abysmally stupid/bored/needing to get a life) person!
Click here to see what I’m talking about. From what I understand, this website is starting to take off in the “gaining in publicity” department. I’ll do my part to help it along, because after all, I suspected something was amok and afoul all along between these two…at least on HIS part...but I digress…

Eeked out 1200 words on the novel yesterday. Go me. I am brilliant. Actually, I have a lot of sentences that go like this:

“Oh, my dear girl, my favorite city in Egypt is (insert some Egyptian city here). The (insert random observation about said city here) and the way the (insert more random observations about said city here). Would you like to go for a stroll down by the duck pond?”

When I really just want to get the story out, I write the bare bones of it, and go back and add the details. That way, the “story” part of it gets written. Then I can go back and spackle and fill in holes with authentic details. This way, I'm freed up to just go go go on the story.
I’m feeling like a WRITER again! Hooray!

Kids’ last day of school is today. I did something very, very naughty. I didn’t get gifts for the teachers. Yes, I know, but my kids made cards for them and it was all good. I didn’t feel like doing the Extravagant Gift thing this year. Does that make me a bad person?

I had a weird episode with Thing One last night. She has been staying up late (talking to her brothers) at night, and waking up early, and she’s been having playdates and soccer practice and school functions, (they always crowd everything in at the end of the year) and frankly, I think she’s tired out of her wits. She's been on power overdrive all this week, and she finally snapped, I think.
The reason I suspect this is because last night, she burst into tears when I told her what we were having for dinner (she wanted something else), and then when I told her she couldn’t go play with her friend across the street because it was time for dinner, she started literally sobbing.She was a mess all through dinner, whining and crying because she was upset we weren’t going to have dessert (we’ve had it the last three nights straight) and then she started bawling when I only had a game of Catch with her out in the backyard for 20 minutes afterward. (she wanted to go longer, but the mosquitoes were eating us alive).

Finally, exasperated to the bone and realizing that she was probably tireder than Snot, (and yes, I know "tireder" isn't a word) I told her she was going to bed at 8pm, and that REALLY sent her over the edge.
At 8, I got her into bed and she sobbed through her prayers, sobbed when I left, and sobbed for a total of about two minutes because when I went back in to ask her if she wanted a drink of water, she was OUT COLD. Just like that. Poor thing. I think she’s finally burned out. She is such a busy little girl, and she has been running all week.
When I put the boys to bed at 9pm, she hadn’t even moved. Hopefully I’ll be able to wake her up this morning. I’ll let her sleep as late as I possibly can. Poor tired Thing One!

Hubby comes home from New York today. I am looking forward to the weekend. We'll all be together. And the weather is supposed to be beautiful!
Have a good & safe weekend, everyone!
Catch you on Monday.

--post script--okay, okay, I folded on the teacher gifts thing. Luckily I have lots of cards ready made, and I buy lots of stationery, journals, candles, etc. and never use them. So I packed a few things in bags for the teachers. I am such a dork!!!

Thing One's Poem

I went to an "end of year" poetry reading for Thing One's class two nights ago. She has graciously allowed me to post her award-winning poem: (and I have to say, with the pride of a writer/parent--it's pretty dang good for a SEVEN year old!)

THE MOON, by Thing One:

The Moon

I imagine

is

a

creamy

ball

of

light

covered

in

tiny

bits

of

diamonds

sparkling

during

the

night.

*sigh* I love her imagery!

O.K. I'm done gloating now...on to normalcy!

Hazards of Historical Fiction...

Quote of the Day: "Never go to bed mad. Stay up and fight."--Phyllis Diller

Well, it's happening again. I am spending WAY too much time on the Internet. I guess we all have our vices, but when I'm spending a few hours a day online (ahem, usually for research, yeah, that's right) that's a "bit" much I'm afraid.
Instead of going outside into the backyard with my kids, I tend to "watch them" from my office window, as I tap tap tap happily away on my writer's forums, threads, blog, and basically everything except my novel, which I MUST get done. I might lower my word count expectations for this one--60,000 words is a bit hefty for a YA novel. I think I might try for 50K to start out with. Unless it takes more to tell my story.

Historical fiction is very tedious. First there is the research. People who read historical fiction find it jarring when things don't "add up" historically or make sense. (I mean, people freaked out because Tom Hank's character's wife in Apollo 13 used a wall phone in the movie, and wall phones hadn't been invented yet!)
Yes, people like their history to be accurate. So even if you're writing fiction, you better be darn tootin' sure that you're at least making it believable and historically accurate to a certain degree.

You're usually talking about things that people don't "do" (or know anything about) anymore and so there is some wordage wasted on explaining things--because not everyone knows what, for instance, the game of Whist was, or what a Smoke pin was, or what a Barouche was, etc.. (you get the picture.) Granted, it's not like I explain everything when I use terms relative to the time period I'm writing about, but I have to put action verbs and adjectives around the archaic word, so people can at least guess.

So, I will spend anywhere from 3 to 6 months gathering info about my time period, before I even write one word (or go past the first chapter anyway.)
I think that's what's stalling me on this one. My characters go to Egypt (in 1890) and I'm intimidated about writing it because I've never even been to modern day Egypt, and I have to rely on the accounts of others to glean enough knowledge to make the reader feel like they're really in 1890 Cairo.

It's not easy, by any means. Like I said, I think that's the holdup for me. I am worried about my Egypt not sounding authentic, even though I have exhaustive resources on the subject at this point. (too much to read, even!)
Well, as one of my writer friends is fond of quoting: just "Get the sh*t down." I need to get a spine (or courage or whatever) and just write out the story, and go back and add authentic details later. There isn't anything more embarrassing than having an editor tell you that there's a major historical inaccuracy in your story. (That's happened to me once, thank heaven the editor liked my story enough to have me revise it for her!) Even though ultimately she rejected it, at least I have that "glaring error" fixed for future editors.

Well I need to go pay attention to the babies now. Gamecube is NOT a good babysitter. It's absolutely gorgeous outside. I think it's about time my boys learned how to build proper sandcastles.
*grin*

Going to the Grocery Store...

Quote of the Day: "Always be nice to your children because they are the ones who will choose your rest home."

I only dribbled out 700 words yesterday on my novel. I was just too darn upset to really get into it. What happened:

I guess I had a moment of weakness last night. When hubby is gone, I like to make things fun, and so, to "break it up" a little, I suggested to the kids that we go to the grocery store to get stuff for icecream sundaes, and then we'd take a walk around the neighbhorhood, and have our sundaes afterwards.
Well, in hindsight, maybe I should have taken them on the walk first, instead of the store. Then they would have been all worn out and possibly calm during our little sojourn.
I don't know what it was--maybe the Fates aligned a certain way or whatever, but last night's trip to the store was so dab-blasted awful I was reminded of the earlier years when EVERY trip ANYWHERE was awful.
Just a little background: all three of my children are 19 months apart. (Yes, I had three children in diapers at one point--I think I have blocked most of that time from my active memory) When they were all younger, I was loathe to take them anywhere.

My kids are...well...very energetic. They are "full of life" as my Mother-in-Law says (which I believe in "Mother-in-lawspeak" translates to: Tasmanian Devil Minions from Hell) and frankly, anywhere I took them until about two years ago was a complete Odyssey, to say the least. Thing Two, my middle child, has ADD and so he's the most "energetic" of the bunch. He always got his siblings "going" in the spazzy sense. (Granted, he's calmed down SCORES more than he used to be like when he was four and younger, to say that those were dark times would be kind.)
I remember not really wanting to take the kids anywhere, when they were younger. Church was a disaster, my hubby and I would tag-team each other on whoever was acting up the worst, and of course if I took one child out of the meeting, they ALL wanted to go out...don't even get me started on visits to the Doctor, Dentist, school and of course, the dreaded GROCERY STORE.
You know those women who trudge through the grocery store with screaming kids, demanding this and that (or just outright having a tantrum) and the mother resembles Joan of Arc going to the Stake? That was me for several years. The grocery store was a dreaded event, and since all my children were too young for school, I had to lug all of them with me. (I would never have gotten a babysitter; my kids were too much of a handful and I was tired of paying exhorbitant amounts to babysitters so they wouldn't run away screaming and tearing out their hair the NEXT time we asked them to sit).

For five lovely months in Texas I had groceries actually delivered to my house. It was wonderful. I would order them online, and the next day, Ta-DA! I had a very nice gentleman deliver them in a van and I didn't have to go anywhere.
But then I realized that the only way to get my kids used to behaving in public was to actually take them out in Public. I am happy to say it worked in the end, but getting there was nothing short of painful.
Take the grocery store for instance: If I didn't have one of those double-seater carts, I would turn right back around and go home. At least with the double seaters, I could strap in Things One and Two (then 5 and 4, respectively) and Thing Three, who was 2, sat buckled in the cart seat. It was perfect. I could at least restrain them. Unfotunately straight jackets are frowned on for kids, so of course they were whacking each other, kicking each other, yelling, etc. (Mom!!!! So-and-so was looking at me! MOMMMMM!! So-and-so is playing with the cereal! MOMMMMM!!!)

Argh. Whack whack whack. (Lara whacks her head against the cart). It was a nightmare. What was even worse was when Thing Two grew out of being strapped into the cart, he would run around me in circles, or do this horridly spazzed-out Lord-of-the-Dance parody in the aisles while simultaneously making a repetitive noise (VERY loudly I might add) and flapping his arms like a bird, which always looked so mortifying I wanted to die from embarrassment.

Well, to make a long story short, my kids have more or less grown out of their antics: Thing Three (who I swear came out of me an Adult brainwise) has always been mostly good, Things One and Two have calmed considerably, and I haven't had major problems for at least a year, now. But then again, because of school and timing, I don't think I have taken ALL THREE of them to the store together for a year...

So, last night, we get to the store, I put Thing Three in the cart (he's just a little big for it but likes to ride) and Things One and Two rode on either side. I walked in, and Thing Two saw a display he was interested in, and promptly left the cart and ran off. Pretending he was deaf, he ignored my hissing and loud whispers to return to where I was, and finally, I had to march over there and grab him by the arm, at which point he spun off and began to do his horrible Lord-of-the-Dance-Arm-Flapping Routine, which I haven't truly seen him do in a while, and I was like STOP IT! What are you DOING??? You are SIX years old!!!

I think he just must have been excited about the prospect of going to the store, or getting icecream, or both, because the whole ten minutes we were in there (I wouldn't have lasted much longer) he kept doing his "dance," alternated with running away, and of course his brother had to keep yelling at him to "stop it So-and-so" (which sounded vaguely just like the way I do it) and then of course his sister HAD TO HAVE one of the stupid Strawberry Shortcake toys in the toy aisle (which I would normally avoid walking down but printer paper was on the same aisle and we needed some) Later, Thing Two and his sister had to run off and accost the fuzzy stuffed-toy dispenser while I was stuck in line, and couldn't do much about it. (At least they asked first--I think I allowed them to go because it would get them out of the line and people would stop recoiling from their antics.) I slapped my checkbook down on the counter all frazzled, and the store girl (smart a**, if you ask me) asked me a tad too cheerfully: "And how are you today M'am?" Grumble grumble. I should have told her. I almost did, believe me.

So, afterwards, we went out into the parking lot, got into the Expedition and once the doors were shut I started yelling. I couldn't understand why they had all acted like that, and told them NO icecream and NO walk and STRAIGHT to bed when we got home.

YUCK. Awful memories came surging to the forefront after that debacle. My kids have been so well-behaved lately, I don't know what got into them last night.

I guess kids wouldn't be Kids if they were predictable, you know? Predictable is for Husbands.

*wink*

Excuse me...Could you bathe?

QUOTE OF THE DAY: When your life flashes before your eyes, make sure you've got plenty to watch.

I sat myself down last night and worked on the Novel, and eeked out 1100 words. Not spectacular, but at least it’s something. Of course after that I watched a movie: A Knight’s Tale and went to bed around 1am.
Every time I watch that movie, I remember how clever it is. And fun! The first time I watched it I was put off by the modern music interwoven with an ancient setting, but now I just think it’s…cool.
Such a primitive time—the age of Jousting and Knights and Edward the Black Prince (played quite yummily by James Purefoy).
One thing I have always marveled over, is the fact that these people had no indoor plumbing, and if they took a bath more than three times a year, it was considered "above" the standards of cleanliness. I mean, these people didn’t have toothbrushes, and they literally wore their clothes until they rotted off of their bodies.
I don’t like to set romance novels in such primitive settings, because my heroine would probably have greasy hair, MASSIVE B.O. and my personal favorite...nasty teeth. In the biography of Elizabeth I that I just finished, Elizabeth in her later years was reported to have black teeth, and several of them missing, which made her hard to understand when she spoke. Apparently she kept sucking on sweets to make her breath “sweeter” when in actuality she was destroying her teeth even more.
YUCK.
But then reality dawned on me. People back then would have been used to nasty B.O. smells, and it would have been accepted as the norm, rather than the exception.
Thank Heaven for Technology! (Maybe that’s why the majority of my novels have been set in Victorian Times—they were so fastidious about being clean.)

The sun has been coming up around 4:30 in the morning now, and my kids (bless them) pop right out of their beds. Thankfully, they know not to wake Mommy up if she’s still asleep--in that way I've trained them well. I woke up to the whining of the dog at 5:30—and Things Two and Three (my boys) were already in the basement watching Sponge Bob. If it weren’t for the darn dog, I could’ve slept in until 7am. (When Hubby is home we’re up at 6.) *Yawn*

I think I’ll try for another 1000 words tonight. I’ve been working on my hubby’s Father’s Day present, (I’m putting together a scrapbook with pics and things from his younger years) and that takes up a lot of time. I think I bit off a bit more than I could chew with this project. I’ll be glad when it’s done. I hope he likes it.

Well, off to wake up Thing One! It’s Trash Day, so I get to suffer through all the bickering/hitting/name calling/whining that ensues when I have the three kids emptying all the garbage cans in the house. But at least they’re getting faster at it. So the time I have to suffer through bickering/hitting/name calling/whining is at least getting shorter!

Harry Potter and Snippets and Nippets

QUOTE OF THE DAY: "The men may be the head of the house but the women are the neck…and they can turn the head any way they want." --Maria Portokalos, My Big Fat Greek Wedding

First off, a ROUSING rendition (preferably by a mob of drunken Scots) of Happy Birthday to my mom, Ana, who turns 58 today. (Heh heh, that will stop her from telling people about her daughter’s blog—I have revealed her age!) All kidding aside, have a good one, Mom!

In the news (this actually broke Friday but the full story is now available) a 19-year old publishing company security worker, (who apparently thought he was bloody brilliant) stole a copy of Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince from the printing facility and tried to sell it to the highest bidder (and in a show of complete brilliance—yes you’re detecting sarcasm here…he called NEWSPAPERS to start the bidding), and then, as if he hadn’t actually proven his stupidity enough, fired a shot from his really big gun to scare the SUN reporter who scoffed at his price, while the police and video crews closed in. You can read the full story here.

It just goes to show, you never mess with the sacredness of Jo Rowling’s books. The righteous indignation of fans over this git’s attempt to prematurely reveal the plot/details of the book to the news media is highly alarming. For them (and I know this because I read the threads at The Leaky Cauldron and HPANA respectively), hanging, disemboweling and being drawn and quartered aren’t punishment enough for this guy. Of course I am not of the “mob mentality”. Since it's not Book Seven, I am merely thinking: what a PRAT.

Poor Jo Rowling’s lawyers. They are going to have Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome when this is all over, from all the jumping around and imposing court-ordered injunctions and gag orders and lawsuits on unscrupulous would-be-spoiler people, as the publication dates of the books draw near.
I am also thinking, heaven help Bloomsbury and every other publisher when the currently untitled Book Seven (the Final book in the Harry Potter Series for those of you non-Potterheads) is being printed. They’re going to have to print it at Fort Knox for Cripes sake! I mean, if these crazies are coming out of the woodwork now, just for the identity of the Half Blood Prince, imagine the massive security measures that will need to be in place to protect the details of whether young Harry defeats You-know-who or not! I shudder to think...

And can I JUST SAY (little mini-rant here) that I saw the recent pictures from the new Goblet Of Fire movie, and what is the deal with the hair on the main actors? Ron and Harry are nothing short of scruffy and bushy, (Ron’s hair is downright long, you can barely see his nose poking out) and by the seventh movie they’re going to have to either A) braid Ron’s hair and wrap it about 50 times around his head to keep it from tripping him up, or B) carry it around behind him in a wheelbarrow.
CUT YOUR HAIR ALREADY BOYS!!! Last time I checked, Harry Potter DID NOT have a mullet, and Ron did NOT have a curled-under shag/mop do. End of rant.

In other news, this is officially the last week of school for my kids, and I am dreading….um…er…looking forward to all the quality time I’m going to get to provide for my children. Thank heaven they can at least entertain themselves, and don’t need me constantly by their side to do it. (Although they seem to all get along better together when I’m involved in the playing, as opposed to, say, sitting in my office and writing while observing their backyard play.)

Hubby left for New York today—he’ll be there a week, and apparently he was invited to a big to-do where they’re re-premiering one of James Dean’s movies (East of Eden? I can’t remember) and supposedly Tom Cruise and his hired girlfriend…oops, I mean LOVE OF HIS LIFE/ABOUT TO BE HIS WIFE #3 Katie will be there.
I’m jealous. I was a James Dean nut when I was younger, I had posters of him all over my walls. Funny, I had almost forgotten about my obsession with him. It seems so long ago now. I don’t think Hubby is going to the event—maybe I’ll have to smack him upside the head over that one…
ANYWAY, since I turn into a horrible insomniac when Hubby travels, I think I should get a fair amount of writing done. Or movie-watching (hee hee hee, Lara rubs her hands together in fiendish glee). Or not. Depends on how motivated I’m feeling.

Well, time to wake up the kids! I hope it's a good and busy week!

Whining Children!

Quote of the Day: "Don't take life too seriously. You'll never escape it alive anyway".--Elbert Hubbard

My nearly 8-year old daughter (whom I call Thing One) is driving me batty. BATTY I tell you. Every morning, she whines about what she wants to wear. She whines about her choices of breakfast. She whines about the school hot lunch being "gross" and why can't she take cold lunch instead, etc. (The answer, because I've prepaid for her hot lunches, darn it, and until the money is gone from the account, she's eating HOT LUNCH.)
She whines incessantly. Please tell me that this is a normal young girl thing. She whines about the way I do her hair, without fail, every morning. ("Mommy, I wanted braids today! Not pulled back!)
And then she whines about the snack I give her for school. (Some mornings, in exasperation, I tell her that I'm going to shove her out to her school bus NAKED, with schmuck hair and no snack, if she doesn't shut up about wearing the brown sandals and the one ponytail (she wanted to wear the pink sandals and two ponytails) already. AAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!

Girls are so tedious. I have two boys, and they are so easy. They go obediently back to their rooms and change when I tell them that the clothes they are wearing are unacceptable. (Um, sweetheart, it's going to be 80 degrees outside, you need to go change out of the sweatshirt and jeans and moon boots.. okay? Okay Mommy!)
They don't care if their hair is done one way or another. They are just happy to get dressed and go to school and play sports and hang out with their buddies. My point: they don't WHINE over every detail like my daughter does!

So what is it with the whining? I certainly don't whine. And that annoying thing where her voice goes up SEVERAL octaves, it makes my blood boil.
The bottom line is, this child is tap-dancing on my last nerve. I'm losing patience very quickly. This morning I told her to LEAVE MY BATHROOM and I didn't do her hair at all for school. I don't care. She can have uncombed hair.
---well I'm back.
Of course, sensitive emotional thing that she is, she started crying and I felt horrible. So I've done her hair. I am such a pushover.

I wonder if I whined like this when I was a child? I don't remember... but my mother seems to have such barely concealed glee when I tell her all my child woes, I'm beginning to think I was quite the little sh*t myself...

Writer's Block and Jumbalaya

Quote of the Day: If we had no faults of our own, we would not take so much pleasure in noticing those of others.-~Francois duc de la Rochefoucauld

I haven't written a darn word this week, unless you count this blog. I've cleaned out the garage, learned how to grill, organized my craft room (Egads that took forever) and taught a rubber stamping class to eight very enthusiastic Brownies. I cleaned out my freezer, planted flowers, removed a large wad of chewing gum successfully from Thing One's hair (using ice cubes first and then peanut butter) and finished HENRY VIII by Robert Lacey.

...But no Writing. Tick tock. Tick tock. And I don't have a novel written. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME??? The weather here in Wisconsin is so dang beautiful. My lilacs are beautiful, my grass is green and my shrubs are exploding, and all the tree-lined streets are breathtaking. There is so much beauty outside, so why am I not inspired? (All I've gotten from spending my time outside is a bunch of freckles and the need to shower more than once a day).

So maybe I should stay inside and concentrate on writing. Maybe if we get a day of rain, I'll be able to. Writer's block seems to be happening a lot to me, lately.
I guess being in LIMBO (see previous post) is affecting me more than I want it to. (Again, can't talk about it now, but hopefully there will be news soon.)

Tonight I am going to make Seafood Jumbalaya. I'll try and tone down the spices for the kids (they all have weenie mouths like me) but I have to find a happy balance because Hubby likes it spicy. He could eat Jalapenos straight from a jar.
I tried a jalapeno once...and I think I have blocked the unpleasantness that followed from my memory. Yes, it was that bad for me.

Well, it's off to the dry cleaners and the bank and the store, among other things.

Bloody Limbo

Quote of the Day: "You'll eat THAT... (Sushi) but you won't accept a guy's tongue in your mouth?"--John Bender, The Breakfast Club

I hate being in limbo. My hubby and I are going back and forth and wondering what is up, and getting frustrated because we DON'T know what is up, and I wish I could go into detail about it but it's the internet. All I can say is, until I get OUT of bloody Limbo I won't be able to divulge much. Just rest assured that I am frustrated...more to come on this subject.

Thing Two asked me, point blank, at breakfast today "Mom, where do babies come from?"
I swear I'm cursed. It's especially ironic because I blogged about this just a day or two ago.

I am panicking because the end of the school year is approaching fast. And I need to buy GIFTS. For some reason here, an apple won't suffice. Kids give their teachers bunches of flowers, spa gift cards, condos in the Bahamas, etc.
So this year I have to get gifts (well, I should say I GET to get gifts) for: Three teachers, six T.A.'s, and five bus drivers. Eek. I'd better get shopping. But at least it's something to do. After all, I'm in BLOODY LIMBO!!!

(sorry, like I said, more to come on that subject.)