Babysitter fail

Me: Hey kids! Let's make a cake!

Adorable moppet that I'm babysitting: Hooray! Can I help?

Me: Actually, it will go a lot faster if I do it myself.

Because the whole point of baking a cake with kids is to get it over with as soon as possible so that you're that much closer to cramming that sweet, sweet cake into your mouth.

Also, when I opened the box, there was a dead bug in the cake mix.

Best. Babysitter. Ever.

The visible spectrum is rainbows!

Ok, I don't think it's ok to laugh at people who are mentally ill. I don't think someone chemical imbalance or neurological disorder should be a source of amusement to people.

Now, having said that, I have to share this video with you. Something about it just makes me giggle. I just keep picturing this woman standing on her lawn and videotaping because she's so horrified by the rainbow being made by the sprinkler. And I'm finding it funny. I'm sorry, I can't be good 100% of the time.

Easy, breezy, beautiful Cover Girl art

Elle has been such a stinker lately. I'm ready for the terrible twos to be over any time now thank you very much.

Yesterday Elle poured water onto some Disney books of mine on purpose. I as her down for a timeout. When she refused to stay sitting I sat down with her. Then she poked me in the eye and giggled when I told her "NO!" She then continued to giggle and try to poke at my eyes for the next five minutes.

Joseph got more and more upset watching me try to wrestle Elle into time-out submission so he volunteered to take her upstairs and play with her. I thankfully accepted the offer. Ten minutes later I realize that things are really quiet upstairs. Just as I'm thinking that I should go check on the kids Elle yells down the stairs to me "Mama! Come see what I do!"

"What did you do sweetie?" I asked as I started up the stairs.

"I do beautiful painting!"

Painting? What could she have been painting upstairs? I moved the nail polish after she got into that. What in the world is she talking about?

I get to the stop of the stairs and there stands Elle, gesturing grandly into the bathroom. And what do you think I saw in there?

On one of the boxes I had been packing up with.
On the bathroom cabinet.
And what's that on the floor?
The little stinker took some make-up that I had used maybe twice and smeared it all over. What didn't get used for "painting" ended up on the bathroom floor and smashed into the rug.

So what do you suppose it says about me as a mom that my first reaction was to run and get my camera?

My county fair can kick your couty fair's ass

Sorry to break it to you but my county fair is better than your county fair. I know you don't believe me (because who wants to admit that they've got an inferior count fair?) but I've got proof.

When you enter my county fair you're greeted by this.I bet your county fair doesn't have a woven blanket of Jesus..... wearing a darling chiffon cocktail dress.

We've also got a poultry barn.Row after row of birds of all kinds.

We've got chickens that look like Tina Turner.You should see the legs on those things.

We've got chickens that look like other famous people too.Nobody here but us Phil Spectors.

We've got turkeys too. Actually, I don't know how big of a selling point that is.
When you get up close to them they're kind of gross.

And sometimes they get mad when you take pictures of them and they try to peck your camera. Then you have to scream and nearly drop your camera. It's the law.

At my county fair you can win a blue ribbon for having the best rat with wings. This one was named Bernice. She was not a winner. I don't know why. She looks perfectly nice to me. As nice as a disease ridden bird can look.

At the 4-H floral display you can find hot bug sex. That's even better than the dog sex that some fairs have.

Once you're tired of looking at exhibits it's time for some snacks. And this is where my county fair really comes out on top. We've got Tacos In A Bag, cheese curds, fry bread, Pronto Pups, Do It Yourself Snowcones, fry bread tacos, roast beef sundaes, giant turkey legs, cheese curd tacos in a bag, mini doughnuts and the greatest thing that modern man has ever created....The deep fried candy bar. For only $5 you can own your own little piece of heaven.

So there you have it, there is no beating my county fair. Clearly I have ..... wait a second. I just received an urgent update. This year the Minnesota State Fair has chocolate covered bacon! So if you'll excuse me there's a little something I have to take care of.

My Canadian hero

Dr. Henry Morgentaler is an abortion provider who has survived two attempts on his life. Thank the universe for brave men and woman like him.

I can take an anxious woman, who is in the biggest trouble she has ever experiences in her life, and by performing a five-minute operation, in comfort and dignity, I can give her back her life.

You can read more about Dr Morgentaler here.

Good news honey!

Jesse,
I know that there have been times in our marriage that have been a little rough. I know that sometimes we fight and argue and disagree. In the end though it always works out because we love each other and you always apologize and I always forgive you. I'm such a good wife.

In the past there have been times when I have thought the only way we could continue to stay under the same roof was if you slept in the garage. I never made you do it though because our garage is detached and not heated and 178 years old.

You don't have to worry about any of that any more now though. See, the garage in our new house is heated so when I do eventually make you sleep out there you'll probably be reasonably comfortable.

Happy nine year anniversary sweetie. I love you even more today than I did the day we got married. Of course, that's not saying a lot because I mostly married you so that I could have a big party where people would give me lots of stuff.

Regards,
your wife

PS Whitaker Dupont says hi!

I'm just kidding folks! Jesse knows I love him. And I know that he'll know that this is all a joke.

The manicure

Her voice was soft. "Is it weird for you?" And sad. "Knowing that I'm going to die?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and dark.

Was it weird? No. I had been to the funerals of old men and babies and everyone in between. Death wasn't weird for me. Everyone has to die sometime. Even if that person is my aunt, my friend, as close to me as a sister.

I found myself angry at the question. I had come over to do her nails that day not to discuss her death. I didn't want to be confronted with it like that. I bit my lip to keep from snapping at her in anger and for a long time the only sound was the soft whisper of the file as I smoothed away a rough spot on her thumbnail. I didn't know the right way to answer the question without letting on how upset I really was.

So I lied. "I don't know, not really. I guess I don't think about it that much." I didn't want to admit, even to myself, how often I thought about it.

And I told the truth. "When I think about it though I always think that somehow you'll get better. I know it's not logical or realistic but it's what I always think."

She nodded and then we quickly looked away from each other, both of us blinking back tears.

Five minutes later we had moved past the whole issue and had moved on to discussing reality tv, silly family gossip and memories of the times she had lived with my family.

We were laughing something or other when her husband came in to break things up. He decided I had been there long enough and that I should probably go so that my aunt could rest. I still had two nails left to do but I promised her I would come back soon and finish them.

Shortly after that her health took a turn for the worse. It seemed sort of silly to worry about her nails when she was so full of painkillers that she couldn't even respond to us when we asked her a question.

Less than two weeks after I gave her the manicure my aunt died. At the memorial service I looked into her coffin and saw that her nails were shiny and smooth. All but the two that I had promised her that I would do "later".

I'm still sad that I was never able to finish that manicure.

Olympic games for toddlers

What Joseph said to me today -
"I'm making up a new Olympic game for Elle to take part in. In order to succeed you need speed, agility, helpfulness, legs and dignity. You also have to be able to chase things that are rolling."

Oh, I love this child.

My lovely lady lumps

"Your breasts are really lumpy and fibrous." The health care provider stared down her nose at me, waiting for a response.

"Um...... Thank you?" I tentatively offered.

"No!" She snapped. "That's a bad thing! You need to do monthly self-exams and really get to know your breasts. You need to learn what lumps are there now so that you'll know if you get a new lump."

Monthly self-exams? The mere acreage involved made that a daunting prospect. But on top of that I had to get to know my lumps? How in the hell was I supposed to tell the difference between a bad lump and a plain old "no really, my boobs are supposed to look like that" lump? Rather than question the good doctor I just promised to do monthly self-exams like a good, fibrous girl.

The doctor smiled. "Good." She said. "Now put your shirt back on. There's no reason to strip before getting a flu shot."

Recently there has been some controversy about how effective self-exams really are preventing deaths from breast cancer. When I first heard this I was pleased. Maybe it meant I could stop doing them! But then I researched a little more and discovered that the results of the study aren't all that clear. I hope that anyone who considers not doing self-exams because of this study really takes the time to research it.

I still do self-exams but I don't do them on a monthly basis. I never have. I am a chronic putter-offer and that's just one more thing that gets added to the "eh, I'll do it later" list. At this point, if nothing else, I need to reacquaint myself with my breasts. Two pregnancies, a year plus of nursing and four weeks of pumping have changed the landscape of my breasts. (It's also made them migrate a lot closer to my knees but that's neither relevant nor something anyone needs to know.) I need to get to know them and their lumpy ways again so that even if I don't do monthly exams I'll still be able to spot something really unusual or different.

So what about you? Do you do monthly self-exams? Do you think you should do them but somehow never get around to it? Do you think it's a total waste of time? Am I the only one with fibrous breasts? Don't I look cute in manga form?

Cute girl, too bad about the eyebrows

I know, I know. I've been a very bad blogger lately. I'm not writing, I'm not reading. I'm not leaving comments. I'm not even answering comments. In short, I'm sucking wind at this whole blogging thing. I have an excuse though!

You see, right now I'm just a little wrapped up in me. Or rather, I'm wrapped up in my stress about house stuff. In some sort of crazy miracle series of events we found the perfect house and had someone put an offer in on ours all within 48 hours. Another miracle, the home we found was waaaay out of our price range but the sellers agreed to drop the price and we're getting it for $30,000 than what it was originally listed at. Yet another miracle, the buyers of our house offered us very close to what we were asking and despite the rotten housing market we're still walking out of this place with a profit.

All of this came about about after a lot of offering and counter-offering and haggling and waiting and hand wringing. And it's not done yet. There will be an inspection of our house on Friday and we'll have an inspection of the house we want early next week. I'm worried, worried, worried about what those might turn up. I have no reason to think either one will go badly but I feel like everything has gone so smoothly so far that we're bound for some bad luck.

So for now I'm going to try to be positive. I'm going to focus on getting all our worldly possessions packed (because the proposed closing date is September 23rd!) and getting ready for our trip to Disney World.

The number one thing on my "must do before vacation" list? Getting my eyebrows waxed. I don't want to go on vacation and take a ton of pictures and then come back and show them to people have everyone say "Looks like you had a great time but why were you carrying those two caterpillars around on your forehead the whole time?"

Because people would totally ask that. And if you don't believe me it's because you've never seen my eyebrows.

Special Exposure Wednesday - Little triumphs

An ice cream cone at the fair might not seem like a big deal but this moment was a big deal to me. Joseph has had a lifetime of food aversions and sensory issues. It took two years of food therapy to get him to the point where he was eating a somewhat balanced (although very limited) diet. Lately though he's been making huge steps all on his own, requesting new foods that he's never had before and more readily agreeing to try new things that I ask him to.

On this particular day we were at the fair and Joseph asked for some ice cream. When I bought him a cone he was a little unsure. I encouraged him and he took a tiny, tentative bite. Then he ate nearly the entire thing. I'm sure all the people around us wondered about the crazy lady taking 100 pictures and cheering because her child was eating an ice cream cone. It was a good day.

Wordless Wednesday - Happiness is a big pile of mud!

Dreaming

We have found a beautiful home that is just perfect for us. We're putting an offer in on it tomorrow. It's going to be low, much lower than what they're asking. I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that they come back with a counter offer that's halfway workable for us. Of course even if they accept the offer we still have to sell our house. The good news in that area is that the drug dealers across the street are getting evicted. That's gotta count for something right?

Keep your fingers crossed for us.

A day at the fair (complete with hot sex)

Yesterday my family and my friend Jen's family got together and drove out to the local county fair. It was a day filled with greasy food, people watching, animal poop and overpriced and rickety rides. Here are some highlights.

We couldn't resist stopping in the "Conservation" building. The sign is what drew us in.

Next we stopped for a little while to watch the Old People Trio do a rocking version of "In Heaven There Is No Beer". The crowd went wild. Well, this one little girl did. It was pretty cute.

After that we stopped in the horse barn to see the horses. Look! Janessa is "showen" Oreo. There were about a dozen of these carefully made, glittery, misspelled signs on various horse stalls. I was a little embarrassed for their maker but then I started to wonder if maybe "showen" is some sort of fair lingo that I just don't know about. Anyone know?

Next we went to look at some smaller animals. Look at these cute little baby chicks! I wonder what the ideal home for baby chicks is?

Why a popcorn popper of course! This conjured up all sorts of funny images in my head that I won't even go into because I don't want people to think I'm weird. The fact that I wanted to drizzle melted butter all over these little guys means nothing ok?

On to the deformed animal exhibit! We all enjoyed seeing the stuffed two headed calf and it's .... commemorative plaque? Actually I think we were all a little weirded out. Except Joseph who gleefully sang "Old McDonald had a farm e-i-e-i-o! And on that farm he had a two headed cow e-i-e-i-o! With a moo-moo moo-moo here and and moo-moo moo-moo there!"

Next half of our group went into the cow barn and half of us stayed out to watch the "Oh my god I'm never eating beef or drinking milk again" exhibit. This cow was getting her hooves filed down and not only did it look really uncomfortable there were also huge shards of hoof flying out into the crowd. I think one got in my eye.

Luckily my eyesight was not affected by the big sliver of cow foot in my eye so I was able to enjoy the art exhibit. Trent won second place with his portrait of Justin Timberlake. I was impressed

Finally we moved on to the carnival portion of the fair where we got to see some red hot doggie style sex. And no Mr Carnie, just because I'm taking a picture of them doesn't mean I want to try to win one of your obscene stuffed animals.

How do you know it's time to leave the fair? When you start to whine and pout when you're not allowed to play with the giant box of electricity.

All in all a good day. I just wish I had gotten a picture of the deep fried peanut butter and jelly sandwich I got. That thing was better than red hot doggie style sex.

I love the fair.