the good life

Remember hanging out in trees, pretending to be explorers or astronauts or monkeys? Your biggest worry being not to "fall into the hot lava". Yelling and screaming and playing until your ma called or one of you fell and scraped something.

why i heart the doodlebug

• Answers to "DooDoo" without batting an eye


• Junior wordsmith: crafting gems like "my privacy" and "the hot pee pee"


• Enjoys a constant state of ashiness


• Routinely concocts brilliant ensembles such as jeans with mini-skirts and short-shorts with tank tops and knee high boots


• Fav at-home outfit: underpants, the rattier the better


• Consumes iceberg lettuce as if it were ambrosia


• Crazy big chiclet teeth


• Ability to go from calm to foaming at the mouth lunatic in about 4 seconds for no reason other than she can


• Will pick her nose in public if necessary (and, trust me, it frequently is)


• Transforms into a small, space heater while sleeping


• Won't hug or kiss you if she doesn't feel like it and doesn't care if it hurts your feelings


• Quick to tell you about yourself

construction sucks

I live in a new development, so it makes sense that the presence of construction and its workers are still prevalent. They are, in fact, everywhere. Duh. I get that. But there's something about waking every morning to ranchero music, pounding hammers and loud construction-man chatter that makes me hostile. Perhaps if we could eliminate the blaring ethnic music and crude conversation that drifts over the fence at 5:16 am most mornings, I would be less hostile. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure I would still be bitching about the hammers (I'm a realist, you know). But with just the hammers, they'd simply be doing their jobs, and how can I find fault with that? Well, I could but my complaints would then be just the hateful, selfish cursing of strangers. Considering that our house was recently in the same state, I am shocked our neighbors talk to us at all.

why i heart bad words

I have always enjoyed using foul language. I come from a long line of profaners. Adult language was frequently present in our household. So it's no wonder I L-O-V-E belting out a few choice words periodically...Okay. Daily. For whatever reason. Whatever the occasion. I could be happy, irritated, content, amused, mad, indifferent. Whatever. I am a firm believer that there are certain feelings and/or moments that call for bad language. I just seem to experience a lot of these feeling and/or moments in my daily life. I know. It's shocking. Appalling, really. I, a former ENGLISH teacher, should be able to communicate without the use of such language. It's base and demonstrates one's poor breeding and education. Only people who are unable to suitably express themselves linguistically utilize profanity. It boils down to I don't care. Peppering my phrases with a random "fuck" or "shithouse" doesn't make me a bad person. I simply enjoy colorful phrases. And maybe I also enjoy the reaction some have to said bad language, but we all have our crosses to bear, right?

purge

Finally got rid of the random boxes cluttering the guest room.

Highlights of the purge:

• Finding the matches to 3 pairs (yes, three) of Taylor's shoes


• Discovering old, partially eaten sandwich at the bottom of one of the boxes (I blame the girls and yes, it was still in a snap and seal baggie)


• Tossing at least 40 pairs of Mitchell's old underpants without his knowledge


• Being able to walk through the guest room again without the use of a machete

summer begins

Yea for summer!

old lady acne

Thirty-five and still zit ridden. How is it that I have more pimple problems now than when I was 17? I don't care if every thirty-something mom is dealing with it. There's something truly horrific about having to face each morning with graying hair, crow's feet, sagging shaboobies AND freakin' whiteheads. Time is a cruel mistress.

male sensibility

There are many inherent differences between men and women (duh). One of the most glaring being a man's unwillingness, nay...inability to take medication when the situation calls for it. Clearly it's much more sensible to drag ass around the house, irritating all who come in contact with you because you won't do something as simple as taking an couple of freakin' ibuprofen. Of course I can see how you'd rather be up most of the night groaning in pain and shifting around heavily in the bed, keeping whoever else is trying to get a good night's sleep awake with your ailments. Only a crazy person would rather take something that would relieve the pain then remain inert on the couch after having decided to stay home from work (fantastic), periodically moaning in discomfort. I can see how all of that suffering is far superior to simply popping a couple of pills and going about your business like a normal human being.

doodlebug

Watched E.T. with Doodlebug this afternoon. She was completely enthralled by the magic of it, chattering the entire time. As far as she's concerned, E.T. is real somewhere living his life after having visited the planet Earth. He still thinks of Elliot but is happy to be home. She has asked me about a million questions, all completely unanswerable.

She makes me recall what it was to believe in a fantasy that completely, that happily. Those were good times.

celebrity circus

Have you heard of this? It's allegedly part of NBC's All-American Summer. Nice catch phrase, right? Unless you're some crazy fascist, you'll be tuned in....

The one preview I've seen opens with some massive weight lifter dude going round and round in this man sized steel hamster wheel. Cut away to Christopher Knight attempting to mimic said weight lifter dude and then eating linoleum... HARD. Must I tell you I laugh aloud whenever this promo airs? There's nothing better than D List celebs shamelessly pimping themselves out for a paycheck.

Ahh... Summer's almost here.

that aint right

Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Europe's been paying $8 a liter for years, decades maybe. I know all that. But this is AMERICA. Land of the Free. Home of the Cheap Petrol. The country were every citizen over the age of 8 drives her own fully loaded SUV.

What is this world coming to?

i'm not gonna lie

I am anxiously awaiting the cycle 10 season finale of ANTM (America's Next Top Model for all you who are clueless). I am breathless with anticipation to see the girls stomping it out at whatever random runway fashion show Tyra has managed to throw together. I can only imagine the ensemble Ms. Jay will be donning(keep your fingers crossed for stilettos and hot pants). And I'm positive Tyra will somehow manage to include a few completely bizarre and contrived photos from "past" shoots.

My excitement is bittersweet however. For with the finale comes the end of the season. Sob! Until next year ANTM. I'll just have to fill my tv time with So You Think You Can Dance and movies I never got to see in the theater from Netflix.

why i love brad pitt

Just finished watching Ocean's Thirteen. Seeing this reminds me of how delicious I find Brad Pitt. Me and a billion other men and women, I know. But COME ON! He's amazing. How can a person be that yummy? And why couldn't he have lived next door to me during my teen years? Now would be fine too. I promise I would only admire him from a distance. Angelina would never suspect a thing. I'd just look at him. I swear.

helper mom

So today was the second in a row that I volunteered in my kids' school library. I have no idea what prompted this. We were in there one day last week, and all of a sudden I'm asking the librarian lady does she need any help with end of the year stuff. What was I thinking? I have no idea. So now that's what I've done from 12:30 to 2:15 pm for the last 2 days.

It's interesting being back in a school atmosphere. It's comforting and a little disturbing to discover that no matter where you go, most schools are EXACTLY the same. People bitch about admin, the teacher next door, why they are the only one that does anything, ever... and on and on and on... Having been there done that, I completely understand the pathology. I do think it's strange, however, what teachers and staff will say in front of their community stakeholders (sorry, ed leadership verbage coming back to me).

I would think you'd want to "put your best foot forward" so to speak... I'm just thanking my lucky stars (again) that I'm not in that place A-N-Y-M-O-R-E.

cake

Today I volunteered at the girls' school library. Nothing big. Just mindless reshelving of returned library books. While I toiled, the librarian chilled. Answered a few calls. Ran a few errands. Engaged in some chatting with some of the more "with it" mom volunteers. And dealt with one extremely passive-aggressive 2nd grader. Granted she was also required to check in some 100 returned books during the 2 and a half hours I was there, but other than that. Librarian-ism is awesome! Why didn't I get my certificate in that instead of teaching? If I had, maybe I'd still be working in schools....

wtf

Believe it or not, this is the view from behind my steering wheel at 11:18 am on a half day. Where am I going? you may wonder. Surely this is traffic downtown somewhere... Nope... this is the freakin' parking lot of the girls' school. WTF.

All semblance of common sense is discarded as soon as parents drive into the lot. It's cut throat competition to be the first to get to the parent pick up area. Never mind that their dare devil maneuvers needlessly hem up the more sensible of us for minutes on end as they swerve and dive from line to line. Horns honk. Unpleasantries are exchanged. Drivers glare. Parents, tired of waiting, abandon their cars in search of their students. This causes the rest of us to curse them for gumming up the works even further. I sit behind the wheel and curse, wishing ill on all those causing catastrophe.

construction workers

These guys must be super bored and/or lonely to react the way they do to any random female walking past. It doesn't matter if you're a 100, snaggle-toothed, one leg and a kick stand; they will drop whatever they're doing to ogle you while making those weird here-kitty noises. (You know what I'm talking about, someplace between a hiss and a whistle.) It doesn't matter if you try to scurry past unnoticed; the hammering ceases as soon as they spot you and here come the cat-calls. It helps to blast your iPod, drowning out all lewd foreign phrases. I personally employ the method of the cold glare. It doesn't stop them, but it prevents me from feeling like a 15 year old girl again. Sometimes I'm tempted to flip the bird, but common sense typically prevails and I refrain.

my life

I realize I've got time on my hands that a lot of people don't. I'm not driving into work anymore (Thanks, Caroline). The girls' school is about 3 minutes away from the house. Both my kids are in school from 7:30 to 2:15 (Thank You, Jesus).

I make a lot of smoothies, much to my brother's chagrin (for whatever reason he hates this, thus I make it a point to call or text him each time I fire up the blender). I clean the house (wood floors and a dirt filled back yard don't make for clean floors and have I mentioned the girls' penchant for getting poop on the toilet seat? Weird.). I read Naomi's, Lizzy's and Rachel's blogs. I do actual work (it's data season, you know). I watch a ton of bad television programming (I am so excited for Shut Up and DANCE! to start again). And I shop for house crap.

I just ordered this adorable, round rug for our downstairs bathroom from anthropologie.com.

Isn't she sweet? I can't wait til she gets here.

the waterhole

The hole has been plastered and finished. The girls couldn't wait to "swim" despite 70 degree temperatures and wind gusts of 30 mph. I don't even have to tell you that they've taken a dip each day after school.

Injuries thus far include:

• tummy plaster burn from sliding like a seal from shallow to deep ends
• three stubbed toes from running on deck
• mysterious bug bite obtained while sunbathing after swimming
• "sprained" ankle incurred from horsing around

Undoubtedly there will be many more to follow.