January 29, 2007
There Comes Another Time ...

... when you realize your husband hates you. Or that he's crazy. Take your pick. I'm having a moment.

Y'al remember the post about how his plan to manage his stress involves making me nuts? Well. He's been stressed this weekend. Really really stressed.

A few weeks ago, my computer ... died. (Leave it at that). He could fix it, techinically. But that would take some time and money and I'm getting a new computer when we move ... SO ... he partitioned his computer. Life should now be all sunshine and daisies, right? RIGHT?

January 26, 2007
There Comes A Time ...

... when you realize you hate all your in-laws. Ok. Maybe not all of them. Ok. Maybe just the one. Ok. Maybe just working on tracking down a current address and phone-number for that one. Still. Its enough to lick the stripe off my candy-cane :(

On the funny side, for those intrepid readers who crave belly-laughs ... It seems I've been calling a WRONG NUMBER politely trying to convince him to give me his contact info for the family address list. As soon as he hears my voice, he hangs up (without even the courtesy of saying "wrong number")! Its taken weeks (and internaltional phone calls) to figure out that I have a wrong number!

But I will NOT be thwarted. No. Not me. Envision my eyes getting squinty and my voice getting ... smoothly soft, like a coiled cobra. Or like Max-the-bunny of Max-n-Ruby. Even now, I'm making plans for this evening, calling a gay-bar in Roswell, New Mexico and asking for a regular named Dwight (an old Army buddy of the distant relative) who might be persuaded with the right code words to give me a phone number. (Lol) (If you only knew how close that was to the truth ... )

January 25, 2007
Lightning Strikes Twice

Most of you know that I've got another site, a site my husband can't read because its assocciated with The Better Idea Vacation Surprise for him. (Its SO pretty, but thats another story about a super-cool design team)

And most of you know that I'm not overly techie-oriented. Fortunately, since MY techie is out-of-the-loop on this one, I've got a friend of his doing the grunt-work (hosting-n-supporting). I say "a friend of his" because originally it was his friend, although now his friend is my friend too (and his family, and maybe his pets)

Stay with me, you needed that back-story to fully understand The Rest Of The Story ...

Lightening Versus Lightning

Apparently, the first one is something to do with uterus-movement while its the second one that has to do with brilliant electric charges in the atmosphere during storms. The problem is that I have a VERY southern accent, and of course I pronounce those two words the same way ... like the first spelling (with the extra "e" in the middle). Spelling is SO hard when nothing is spelled the way it sounds :(

January 18, 2007
Adventures In Shopping

Alternately titled: Buying Clothes At The Hair-Salon!

It all started when Cassie whacked off all her hair late Monday afternoon. Apparently, thats prone to happen when small children are bored out of their minds while trapped indoors by an ice-storm. THIS is the kind of emergency that makes one glad your husband saw the light and bought a big-boy-truck with four wheel drive so you could get to a salon as soon as possible.

(More than one person interupts when I'm telling this story to ask "You went out in that weather to get her hair cut!?!" Yes. Yes I did. It wasn't that bad. Clear streets. Just two miles. They had power, I called and checked first. No problem)

I found out that my next door neighbor has started working there, so I left Cassie in the chair with her and dashed off to the infant department to look at sleepers. The salon is in the corner of JCPennys, which is not a store I usually frequent but they were open and fixing hair so there we were.

January 16, 2007
Paparatzzi Hell

Have you ever wondered if there would come a time when you would be punished for all those times you made fun of those poor saps on reality televison shows? I didn't. I went merrily on my way with no thought for the morrow. La-la-la-doo-duh-doo ... *sigh* ... the good ol'days of glorious privacy.

It all started when my husband picked out the new cameras for the kids. We got them each one gift for Christmas, a digital camera. This way they have fun, learn about technology, develop a skill, and we get at least a few really good pictures. Eventually.

That was the plan. And it was working a little until we were iced-in and my husband chose THAT moment to tell the boys that the cameras also ... (wait for it) ... take video-clips. They immediately set about taking lots of small movies. Mostly of ME in various states of displeasure (cleverly masked by hysterical laughing) and questionable clothing. See, in the past I haven't had to DRESS to leave my bedroom. Now, I really ought to "dress" before I leave my bed. Finally, on threat of seizing the cameras, they have accepted the rule of "No videoing anyone who is not dressed enough to go to the post-office". ALthough, Lee's idea of what I could technically wear to the post-office is shocking!

So far this morning, while wearing my bath robe, I've been the star of a brilliant documentary called "Mother Makes Hot Chocolate" and "The Sequel: Mother Makes Toast"

I have yet to find a way to keep them from leaping around corners and through doorways while shrieking "surprise" which is only slightly better than when they try to slip up on you to video unawares. Some of them are pretty good at that. If you haven't guessed, I'm a bundle of nerves.

Its like living with three crazed paparatzzi, hopped up on sugar and high on life-with-a-video-camera.

Maybe ...

Woohoo! I got it fixed. Kinda. Which is all you really need to know about THAT adventure.

January 01, 2007
A Really Cool Gift

My brother isn't the only one with gifting-skills. I let the kids pick out their own gifts with their own money for my brother's soon-to-be-three-year-old boy. I tried to guide them with "Thats nice, but not in your budget-range" and "Thats nice, but he's only about three" and "Thats nice, but his mama won't let him have it with good reason"

They ended up with a wonderful round of gifts that Jay REALLY enjoyed. He carried the little synthasizer through the house rocking out. He refused to take off the seriously-orange hunting cap, even clamping it to his head all the way through SundaySchool. But the best was what Ron gave him. A little fire-truck rescue-type vehicle. That has three buttons. That make ... interesting ... sounds. Loudly.

Sound one: A vroom-vrooming sound.
Sound two: A siren.

(Duh-duh ... Duh-duh ...)

Sound three: A rather grim sounding man shouting "Put your hands up or I'll shoot!"

And the extra-interesting part is that if its 5:00am and you're really sleepy and your small child sneaks up to the bed to share his new toy, odds are you'll wake up really ... grumpy. And in need of a drink. And maybe clean under-wear. But I didn't ask about that. TMI.