Soon I will be better organized and posting every single day. Because I'm going to start using the computer in my husbands office which has something better than Notepad which is NOT a word-processor so much as its a grocery-list generator.

Soon I will be overwhelmed with wiggling giggling children set free for the Summer.

Soon I will lose lots and lots of weight while eating tons and tons of chocolate. (Hey, a girl can dream!)

But, in the between time, here's something to make you fall over laughing. This thirty-second video is the most fantastically spectacularly wonderfully happy video I've ever seen! Make sure you have the volume on. And beware ... you'll feel compelled to drag every member of your family to the monitor to watch it over and over in amazement!

Yes, there is a mouse in my house. Two in fact. I saw one the other night. It ran at me from under the stove. I screamed. Which is what you're supposed to do when you see a mouse. It ran back under the stove. My husband came. Refused to stomp it to death with his bare feet. Ok, I didn't actually ask him. It was 2:00am and the fact he had to wake up and run through the house to find that it was only a mouse might have pre-empted any demands from me. However, being a great guy, he took the baby back to her room so I could stay in the recliner a moment longer and gather my composure. Which is when I had to scream again because as soon as I stood up the mouse ran at me AGAIN from under the stove. I just knew that it was some kind of carnivorous mouse that saw me as a giant snack. (And some people think being married to me is easy. LOL)

I couldn't find mousetraps at Walmart, so he picked up a few at Lowes. He got the cool ones with a ramp and a flip door-closure so that the mouse is trapped but not harmed. He thought I'd appreciate the fact that the mouse could be set free to roam the wilderness in peace and joy. I just looked at him blankly. He thought I wouldn't want the mouse decapitated in my kitchen. I just looked at him blankly. He thought I wouldn't want to break my toe in the middle of the night by accidentially stepping in a trap. BINGO. That was something I understood. and appreciated!

I didn't set them immediately. Because I am lazy and exhausted. So he set them for me in the middle of the night when he got up and went to the kitchen and saw TWO mice. Thats right, we have a HERD OF MICE in our house.

You might be asking "But, WHY do you have a herd of mice in your house?" My boys asked the same question. Lee suggested that maybe it was a super-fast mouse that ran in when they quickly dashed out the door on their way to school in the mornings. I suggested that maybe it was a slow mouse that wandered slowly through the garage door across the sunroom and into the kitchen when the boys left the door to the garage open for hours last week. He looked at me, "Ooohhhhh". The light dawns. Mama doesn't tell them to shut the door for no reason after all. However, they didn't look sufficiently alarmed.

They still thought mice were kinda cool. I pointed out that mice carry horrid germs (think plague), bite babies, chew your favorite clothes, poop on your toys, and sometimes die and decompose in your shoes (which happened to a friend of ours with her ski boots). Now, they look alarmed. VERY alarmed.

Those of you that think I'm a bad person for alarming children, this next part is for you. I have spent the better part of my day discovering and disassembling mouse-traps. My favorite was one under the kitchen table which involved lots of socks and salt. I have no idea how it was supposed to work. Its going to be an adventure.

After my husband read the post he blurted out "I didn't say COWTO. I said BOVO. Cowto sounds dumb, kids appreciate Bovo." Thats right, people, because 'bovo' makes SO much more sense I felt the need to publish a correction so that you wouldn't think him half-witted. Still laughing. This has the potential to make me laugh for years. Right up there with "Mommy is smarter than the average bear" which we all know is really his way of saying that I'm stupider than 49% of bears :)

I'm doing that today. Thanking God, literally. Some people mutter it as an exclamation, but they don't really mean it. Today, I mean it from the very depths and breadths of my soul.

I've been meaning to write a post about something I heard recently: Gratitude is rarer than Faith. It seemed like an odd thing to me, because even those without faith are grateful for things. For example, non-Christians write "thank-you" notes. But there's a story in the Bible about Jesus healing ten lepers and only two came back to thank him. After giving it a lot of thought, I've decided that its not that the other eight lepers weren't thankful for their new health. They just didn't make the leap to WHO to be thankful to. Maybe they thought, "Oh, I could have done this if I knew what to do" or "Its a coincidence". Maybe they blocked the awfulness of the disease from their mind, or just let it slip away as they focused on the present.

Maybe it was just easier to not think about the Awesomeness that had touched their lives, because to acknowledge that is to come close to really really thinking about it and if you really think about it then you're bound to realize how your life doesn't measure up.

Some christians think that God is not involved in their everyday lives. That He's only around for the big stuff, like terminal illnesses. That God doesn't go to Walmart with you. (We all know that I think he does, especially after the Crayon Incident last summer). Its almost more comfortable that way, the illusion of independance and self-reliance.

But remember that Jesus said His eye is on even the sparrow? To me, that sounds like a God that pays attention to the details. Personally, it boggles my mind to even think of it. The sheer volume of details He must process! But, then again, I didn't create galaxies. I'm sure He can handle it. If you believe He loves us, how can you believe He wouldn't be paying attention?

Yes, I know that sometimes bad things happen to good people. Yes, sometimes horrific things happen to Christians. Yes, it's not all about me all the time. But ... sometimes it is. Sometimes God just reaches out and say ... "No. Not this way. Not this time."

I take it for granted that my husband will come home safe every time he leaves the house. I don't give it another thought. A quick kiss, "did you take out the garbage?', "when will you be home?", "feed the puppies?". I put out of my mind the things that would happen if he DIDN'T come home one night. The very very very bad things.

Which leads us to why I'm thanking God, especially today. Emphatically today. With ever fiber of my being today. Because my husband isn't dead today.

Friday night he worked a full day at the office, and headed out to the house-site to work there until dark. He's been doing this for weeks, and is so exhausted he didn't notice when he helped the guy install the wrong floodlights. He finished up what he could as long as he had light, and headed out to the truck. He was just standing there for a minute next to the truck. Suddenly, there was a loud "WHOOSH". Flat tire. Very flat tire. In a matter of seconds. Think about that. His tire blew-out right there parked in the driveway.

If it had happened two minutes later, he'd have been onto the stretch of straight highway headed home. Exhausted. Driving MUCH too fast (I know he does). On a road bordered with significant drop-offs where a wrecked truck wouldn't have been visible until day-break.

Now, my husband just sloughed it off with "I'd have been fine, even if it had blown on the highway". Hrumph! You might have guessed he's mostly a God-doesn't-go-to-Walmart kind of guy and I'm a God-is-definitely-at-Walmart ind of girl. Which is mostly ok. I suppose. But ...

I've prayed that God will give me Faith, because I don't have it. Now I also pray for Gratitude, because I don't want to be one of those eight lepers who missed the chance, who didn't say Thank You.

Lots of posts squished into one. Because my husband says lots of things that grab my attention. Some of which are even fit to post on a family-friendly-site. For example, ...

(1) On vacation, Cassie was entertaining herself with "accessorizing" her Krypto-The-Superdog action-figure. It involved him wearing a lot of her bracelets as dog-collars. She was singing along to herself "Krypto! The Superdog! He's super! In every way! Krypto! The Superdog!" Its a very emphatic very repetitive theme song. After a few hundred miles she did a little altering. It changed to Pigto-the-superpig. Then we passed through Bovina, Kansas. Suddenly my husband leaned close to me and lowered his voice to sing "Cowto! The Super-Cow!" I thought I would come unglued, right there in the car. Mommy gasping hysterically usually gets their attention. So, Daddy had to explain about "Cowto" to Cassie who looked at him and said "Cowto isn't real". I didn't ask her about Pigto.

(2) Last month, my husband had one particularly gloomy day. Knowing he needed a treat, I quickly assessed the available resources. I decided I could kill two birds with one stone by giving him the CD I bought him for Christmas next year. He could be enjoying the music and I could quit worrying he'd buy it for himself sometime in the next ten months. He's conciously trying to listen to more "christian" music, or classical. Less pop and country. As soon as I saw the CD, I thought how much he'd love it. How different it was from the other CD's. So, yes, I bought him Bagpipe Hymns! He just looked at it when I handed it to him. I explained I thought he needed a little treat. He looked at me blankly. I explained he had mentioned he was listening to less secular music. He looked at me blankly. I explained I was afraid he'd buy it for himself before next Christmas. He almost fell down laughing. He said "Now, THAT is certainly not on the list of stuff I'd buy myself!" followed by more gasping laughter. I tried to give him the grim-look-of-death. He only laughed harder. Which made me laugh. I've got to practice that whole look-of-death thing.

(3) My uncle is dieing. That's not the funny part, but it is relevant. He's very ill, and has been for a long time. Now, the end is close. I don't really see how I can make it home for the funeral. Yes, I want to go. Yes, I should go. No, I don't think the logistics of actually going are reasonable. So, I've decided to embrace an alternative. I'm going to send a thoroughly charming condolance letter to each of his six children during which I will explain that instead of sending flowers we'll be donating six books that he would have loved to a local church that has a hard time funding its library. I'm going to use really "good" papers, and send the letters over-night mail as soon as I hear that he's actually dead. THAT is a good plan, although it involves writing the letters now so they can go straight to the post-office. I told my husband last night about my plan. Without giving it another thought, he looked over at me and said "Don't pay for over-night. Just mail them now." Let me point out to you that its just WRONG to send condolance letters before the person dies! Sure, we know he's on the brink. And, yes, he wil certainly die within the next ten days. HOWEVER, you do NOT not NOT send condolance letters before they are actually certifiably going-to-be-buried dead! I can't think of enough ways to say that. No! You just don't DO that! I'm sure its because he was raised in Florida. Which we all know is NOT part of the "real" South. I think he just proved THAT beyond a reasonable doubt!

I was sorting laundry while Cassie was in the tub. She was happy as a pig in mud, singing along to herself. Wonderful silly nonsensical songs. I followed along, humming to myself, vaguely amused that I did indeed know the words to much of the singing.

"Oh-OH, everybody's got a waterbuffalo. Mine is fast and yours is slow, OH-oh, everybody's got a waterfuffalo. Oh-OH, everybody's got a baby kangeroo, mine is pink and yours is blue, etc."

Its a ... lovely ... song from VeggieTales. Then ... I heard a most disturbing sound. Not the scary "fell and cracked her head wide open" sound. More of a dieing groaning warthog sound. It gave me pause. Then silence. And then it repeated.

I stuck my head into the bathroom and asked Cassie "Ummm, that was a good sound, what was it exactly?" She looked at me like I was very ... challenged ... and said "It was a waterbuffalo, of course!"

Of course. What else would it be!?!

Server problems. First, the email got ... weird. Then, the commenting viewing and ability. I'm sure my posting ability is about to evaoporate! And, Leni, oh did I have a post for you about water-buffalos! Actually, I have lots of posts trapped in my head kind of like a jammed printer. Mostly because I write them in my head while doing other stuff. And I can't get them onto the screen because this computer doesn't have Office! I just love Office, and I refuse to be consoled with Notepad. So. As soon as I get the email/comments functioning I'll be posting lots and lots and lots. From the computer in my husbands office.

Yes, I mean you. Well, I might mean you. I might not. Depends on who you are.

I noticed this at Admiral Quixote's site (which isn't dead afterall). Its a SHOPPING QUESTION! He doesn't have ANY responses, which is sad because he's a great guy, although he has an annoying tendancy to let his blog wilt, mostly at times where deadlines from his three jobs coincide. And he'll do better when one of those jobs is completedt in August.

So. Lets help a guy out. Just because we can. Thinking caps: ON!

Oh, and do NOT be deterred by the theory that he'll sell mostly electronics. For example, I need him to be selling Inko's White Tea which is THE most fab drink ever. And a specific wrought iron fence panel which isn't available locally. People! Think about what cool stuff YOU want. BAH - electronics! We need to bend him to our WILL! Bwahahahahaha! (Note: He's a sweetie who is more than willing to sell whatever cool thing wanders across his path. So its not like we're actually brainwashing him or anything. At least not as long as he gets me access to that fencing ;)

There's this guy. We'll call him "George". He goes to our church, generally a good enough fella. Charming. Laid-back, but friendly. He has this theory that you shouldn't work on Sunday. Which is great. Unless you're his wife. Because all of the stuff he should be doing with and for his family is the firmly dumped on his wife. So. She has to work extra-extra-hard. But that's ok because he's following the whole "not working on Sunday" thing? I don't think so.

I don't think he's a bad-guy. Just clueless. And irresponsible. And selfish. And pious. Now, think about it. Are these traits you want to project when you're living a Christian life? Do you want people to think of you with scorn and derision for your world-champion-level inconsideration of another person, even if she's your wife? ESPECIALLY if she's your wife?

Now we get to the part of the story where we learn that I'm not a perfect Christian either. As it turns out, "George" bumped into me as I was dropping Katherine off in the nursery. He's chatty, so he stopped to chat. He asked in that I-know-the-answer-already-kind-of-way if I was ready to have another one. Did I gently tell him "no, although aren't babies just the best things ever"? Not exactly.

I did manage to NOT wrap my fingers around his neck. I just said, in the coldest cold-voice-o-death, "This is not the time to ask that. I just got four children ready for Easter Sunday and prepared for two baptisisms and arrived on time" He looked at me blankly. Diane-the-nursery-worker fell out laughing. George just looked from one to the other of us. Sneaking a look out the corner of his eyes at his wife who was across the hallway with the toddlers. He was honestly confused. Couldn't imagine why that was a relevant answer. Knew he was missing something, which made him a little nervous. Apparently figured if it got that bad his wife was close enough to be able to save him, and plunged ahead!

Yes, I kid you not, he actually wanted to know why that was a big deal. Which made Diane-the-nursery-worker just roll her eyes and laugh some more. I'm pretty sure he knew she was laughing at him instead of with him. I just stared at him blankly. How do you even begin to explain? Well, let me tell what I did NOT say "I'm sure you're such a good helper, you know, the way you make sure to carry her bible to the car with yours while she hauls three children under the age of four. Wow, her mornings must be SO much easier than mine!" Because that is the total amount of help he is to her. Period. He carries her Bible to the car, to spare her that one extra trip. Thats it. Literally. How does a person see someone else struggling with things and walk on by because of the idea "God doesn't want me to work on Sunday" ? I don't remember the verse about self-centeredness being the cornerstone of Christianity.

But, aren't we all like George in some ways? If we really REALLY think about it? (Ok, not the part where he's such a dysfunctional father that other parents stare at him in horror and awe, much the way one watches a train wreck in slow motion) Down to the brass-tacks, George is just so focused on his own needs that he doesn't see anyone else's needs. WE are most likely all like that. Like small selfish children. We probably don't even realize it.

I don't have the answers. Thats would be like the blind leading the blind! But someone out there has some answers, we just have to start asking the right questions.

Life is odd. Full of small unfortunate agrravations. In the grand scheme of things, not so very important. But still a bitter pill. For example, Samantha dated a guy who was a user-n-abuser. He happens to work at THE hip new club in town once or twice a week for his best-friend the club-owner. The break-up didn't go well. Sure, Sam can slash and burn with the worst of them but this wasn't one of those times. For all the good it did her. Now, if she's with a group that decides to go to the club (or meet at the club) she's essentially black-listed. Everyone in her group harrassed all night. Which she rightly sees as a business problem.

Then, yesterday, a friend of hers from forever breezed back into town. She bumped into him, he twirled her around, and said something along the lines of 'Hey, lets catch up at The Club". She just grimaced and told him why she'd rather not. He laughed. And laughed some more. Sam explained that the owner was SO trying to make her life Hell. More laughter. He said "He will never do that again, not after you go in there with me". Sam tried to deflate his ego gently, explaining she appreciated his confidence but that the owner was a REAL jerk with an axe to grind and no amount of charm and/or intimidation was going to turn him into Prince Charming. More laughter. Sam was starting to get ... edgy. Her friend leaned in closer and said "That guy isn't the owner." Sam said "Yes. He is. I know." More laughter. Her friend leaned in closer still and said "No. He's the front for the silent owner. The one that doesn't want his name spread all over a bunch of clubs ... (wait for it) ... My. Dad." More laughter. Or, as Sam put it, "gleeful giggleling" as she stared at him open-mouthed.

Sometimes, the bullies win. But ... sometimes, it just works out.

We had an old rule: Do not interupt Mommy on the phone unless there is bleeding, either you or someone else.

Last night I was on the phone with a friend, planning a strategic drop-off of frozen pretzels. (Yes, I bought hideously over-priced low-quality frozen pretzels from a school-fundraiser. It doesn't make me a bad person. Just weak.) Lee runs up to me and even before he arrives is yelling about something. I figured out it involved a red blanket. Maybe. I gentlely but pointedly asked "Are. You. Bleeding?" with one eye-brow slightly arched, to better convey the idea that he was doing something he might not want to be doing. If he really thought about it.

He thrust out his elbow triumphantly and said "YES" and then proceeded to rant about the blanket. Which had absolutely NOTHING to do with the very very minimal bleeding. I listened for a few minutes with my mouth open, completely speechless. My friend on the phone laughed so hard she cried.

Welcome to my world, where we have a new rule. Our New Rule: You may only interupt Mommy on the phone if there is bleeding, AND you want to talk about that particular instance of bleeding.

We were driving from Denver through the Vail Pass at night when I started getting nervous. I'm afraid of heights. Those are some seriously high pointy mountains. With sleet. And a speedy husband who just wanted to get the drive over. Ok. He's not that speedy. And really very sweet when he realizes I'm starting to quietly hyperventilate. Well, I suppose "quietly" is relative. But compared to the scream I wanted to be making I'm thinking I was quiet.

I had already noticed that the pass has a lovely system of automated signage offering driving information. For example: High Wind Advisory! which I took to mean "Aieeeee, we're going to be blown off the road into the ravine." Quickly followed by Icy Road! followed by Tunnel Ahead! followed by Reduced Speed! followed by Steep Twisting Grade Next Six Miles!followed by Falling rocks! Finally, deep breathing and the rather fatalistic thought of "might as well relax because we're either going to die, or not" led to a sense of calm. Even kinda started joking about the signs. Because every time I had started to relax there was another near-panic inducing sign. He pointed out there wasn't anything else we could possibly be warned about. That was a good feeling. Only a mile left to go. And one more sign ... Watch for Wildlife! I giggled all the way to the condo.

And I forgot to mention the sign in Oklahoma. The posted speed-limit had a 55 minimum. And right next to that sign there was a sign that said "No Tolerance". Definitely a separate sign. Which makes sense in conjunction with the speed limit. But its definitely a separate sign. So all I saw was the "No Tolerance" and thought to myself (seeing as I was very sleepy and zoned out from driving hundreds of miles in a minivan full of small children) "Hmmmm. Well. I guess people in Oklahoma are fed up with the political correctness embraced by people in Colorado." Yes, eventually, several miles later, it did dawn on me that government of Oklahoma was probably not advocating open season on liberals. Probably.

Time to unveil the NEW! and IMPROVED! blogroll. Sorry I got distracted by reality. Well, actually, by my husband's reality of house-building (whch WILL be posted this week if it kills me). So, without further ado, here are our new reads:

Found after much searching, deep in the depths of darkest jungles ... or France: K's Cafe. There are many good things about the French. They have no fear of butter. They know how to make sauces. They put pictures of hedgehogs on laundry-product boxes. They offer fodder for Katherine's blog. Whats not to love!?!

For those of you addicted to cleverness, you simply must go visit at Testosterhome. How cool is that name!?! Rachel is a stay-at-home-mom of four boys. With good hair. (Which is NOT a given when you have four children. And its even harder to achieve if you live here in the mid-west. I noticed last Sunday at the Easter Contata that absolutely NO one in the choir had a good hair-cut. All the men either looked like bald soldiers or Vulcans. I can't believe I'm actually planning ahead for hair-cuts for the family when we visit my parents in the South this summer. ) And extremely cute cleverness seems to run in Rachel's family. Her boys obviously love life and mud and soap and potato-sculpture. She must be doing something REALLY right.

Unfortunately, Leah at StillAliveMomma has had a bad week. Wiccan trolls. Which inspired her to kill her comments. Except to members. And I don't know how we get to be members. But, regardless, her blog is lovely and generally funny and charming. She was even charming to the troll! And she likes Jakers-TheAdventuresOfPigglelyWinks. Which we all know is the MOST fabulous show ever. Lol. It is. I swear it is. What Tom Sawyer would be if he had been written as a small Irish pig. Oddly, I only just now noticed that she's the mother of four children too. And she lives in Texas (which is practically a Southern state). There's no picture, but I bet she has a good hair-cut too! Argh.

Which leads to our next addition -- Jennifer Knighton at Knighton. Isn't that a great last name? (My sister in law used to have the last name of "Roach". She changed it pretty quick when she married my brother) Jennifer also lives in Texas. I can't tell from the artistally Andy-Warhol-ish picture on her site, but I bet she has a good hair-cut too. Not that I would be obsessing about that this morning. I knew I would be going back to read her site again and again when I saw that her favorite bible verse is "I do believe. Help me overcome my unbelief." Mark 9:24, which is also my favorite verse. Or at least the verse most appropriate to me. And one of her favorite movies is Groundhog Day, which makes me smile. A lot. Especially the part where he holds the groundhog under the arms and dangles him so you can see the little squished up groundhog-face. Which is what my husband does with the baby to make me laugh. "Look, there's mommy. She looks grumpy. hehehehehehehehe. wiggle. wiggle." Compounded by the fact that his mother slipped once and told me that she used to call him "my little groundhog" when he was young. Wait ... this is about Jennifer ... She's a good writer. She doesn't have four children yet, but she does have odd dreams about gum. She quizzed as "Iris" but decided she'd rather be "Rose" so just changed the image on her blog! I admire people that think outside the box that way (which could be why I quizzed "Lily" instead of "Iris") I bet she runs red-lights at 4:00am at deserted intersections.

YAY me! I managed to edit my blogroll without killing my site! Yay!

Y'al will notice that the Resplendant Mango is gone. She has a rather busy life and its a long time between posts. And some of it I just don't get. Like technical production stuff. I still think she's a brilliant writer and seems to be a charming person, but I'm not going to click on her everyday. And that list is just for my daily clicking.

Y'al will also notice that Sheilah's World is gone. I ADORE Sheilah's World, but I'm pretty sure its a dead site. She used to blog from work, then she got a great new job that has no blogging time. She's still a sweetie, but a non-blogging sweetie. And if she starts blogging again, I hope she lets me know!

NOW, if I can only figure out how to ADD people to the list.

Get that "shark music" from Jaws going in your head. Duh-duh, duh-duh, duh-duh ...

All the techie guys are really really busy, so I'm going to attempt to alter my site all by myself. If I break something, I'm sure they'll eventually get it fixed. Here we go ...

Last night as we sat at the kitchen table, my husband was making notes on the back of an envelope of things he needed to deal with when he dashed back to the office. There were a few things on the list. Wiring things, and structural things, and ... "mirror". Which got my attention.

We have significantly different decorating styles, having grown up in different parts of the country. (He grew up in south Florida) So, we decided that it would avoid a lot of issues if we each decorated different parts of the house. I insisted that he decorate our bedroom/bathroom. Its one less huge thing for me to think about, and I like a nifty surprise now and again. All I know is that the master-bath has two sinks. Which are different from each other. And the faucets don't match either, although I've seen neither sinks nor faucets. And it has a freaking HUGE tub (because he loves me) with a waterfall faucet mounted way up the wall so it does indeed "waterfall".

So, it really got my attention when I saw a decorating item on his list of things to check on. "Mirror". I couldn't stop myself from uttering it out-loud while the wheels started spinning in my head. Hmmmm. Wonder where he wants to put mirror. Hmmm. He was vaguely thinking about mirroring the ceiling in part of the basement. Is he still thinking about that? Hmmmmmm. Then he spoke. "Mirror is for the shower."

Thoughts went through my mind in quick order. AIEEEEEEEEEE! No one can ever see my bathroom! AIEEEEEEEEEEEE! What will people say at church!?! Ewwwwwwww! I'll have to shower with my eyes closed! AIEEEEEEEEEEE! Playboy! Heffner! AIEEEEEEEEE! Must get to phone. Must call Sam. AIEEEEEEEEEE! Must try to blink. AIEEEEEEEEEEE!

You'll notice that "aieeeeee" was the predominant reaction in my head. Meanwhile, my husband is looking at me with concerned interest. A split second later it dawned on him that I was trying not to scream AIEEEEEEE out loud in a house full of children. (He's really good at knowing what I'm thinking) He laughed. A lot. Then explained that he needed to check on a small fog-free mirror for shaving his face in the shower. Then he laughed some more.

C'mon people! I think it was a completely reasonable leap to make. Meanwhile, he's still laughing. Harder and harder everytime I assert that it was reasonable. But it WAS reasonable to make that leap. Even more reasonable than the trout!

We learned some things while on vacation. Various odd things. Here are some random points. Perhaps sharing them will prevent me from writing a ten-thousand page post about the long long long trip.

(1) If someone tells you there's a shorter way home, don't believe them unless they can prove it. Scientifically. With a map. Or you may end up in Oklahoma. There's nothing necessarily wrong with Oklahoma. Unless it isn't actually between you and where you want to go.

(2) It is a fact that one hour after you leave for home, a child will throw-up. In a tightly packed mini-van its likely that TWO children will throw-up. Simultaneously.

(3) There's a difference between hippie-atheists in Oregon and liberal-atheists in Colorado.

(4) Sure, Vail is pretty. But, is it REALLY worth 20 million dollars for a house? People! Its just a house!

(5) If you make one pile of the luggage for five people and one pile of the luggage for one baby, the piles will be roughly the same size.

(6) Beach towels make great "car-blankets".

(7) The new milk-chocolate covered Mint Oreos are absolutely stunningly fabulous! And my husband is fabulous for selecting them for a "surprise" snack for me while driving.

(8) There's no place like home!