A case of the blahs...

Today is shaping up to be a pretty bad day. And it's only 8:47am. Nothing particularly horrible happened, you see; just a chain of events that are getting under my skin. It doesn't help that I appear to have awoken on the wrong side of the bed. Except there's only one port of entry and departure on our bed.
Maybe it's all the sleep I'm missing from these horrible and bizarre dreams I keep having.

We're having an especially judgemental and white-glove wearing family member over for dinner tonight and I have to pick up something to cook and take my mom to the grocery store, clean the house and oh, there's about 4974 things I need to do at school. That's annoying to begin with.
Then, when I dropped Olivia off at school, I was getting weird vibes from people there. Maybe it was just me.
Naturally, I walked into a pile of crap at work and had to get straight to it instead of easing in by reading blogs all morning.

I've written a Sincerely 'Fro post but the photos are on another computer so that will post later tonight. After I'm not so ornery. I hope.

Rut Roh!

The good news is Hurricane Hanna is not expected to make landfall in South Florida this week. The bad news is, Tropical Storm Ike is expected to be a hurricane by Saturday and make landfall somewhere around South Florida. On Sunday. Which is Olivia's birthday and when we're scheduled to have a pool party. Last night, I sat Olivia down and discussed the possibility of having to postpone her party for one week - until the following Sunday. The news was nothing short of devastating and Earth shattering to an almost 8 year old girl. I know that she understands the meaning of postpone and certainly can compute the concept but you'd think we just told her she can't have a party, her puppy just died and I'll never let her wear knee-high socks again.
This is the peak of hurricane season and we've really been quite lucky in the past to have never had to cancel or postpone her birthday due to a hurricane or even inclement weather. Even though I've rolled the dice every year for the past 7 years and held her parties outdoors.

In addition to Hanna and Ike, Josephine is right behind although so far, it looks like it's going to stay out into the Atlantic and not threaten any US Coastlines.

Everyone in South Florida sort of gets this overwhelming feeling of exhaustion around this time of year. We're tired of our weathermen (and women), we're tired of schools closing, we're tired of standing in line at Publix for water and ice and we're really sick of "near misses" and "lucking out". That's not to say that we're not generally grateful when a storm ignores us, it's just that we always seem to be within the "Cone of Uncertainty" (or as I like to call it - the "Cone of Death") and have to prepare. Not only is it unbearably hot right now but there's always Hurricane Drama. No wonder why we're always so cranky.

What Would You Do?

Three years ago, Hurricane Wilma ripped through our County and destroyed many things in it's path - one of which was my office. Our home - which is only 8 years old and was built with very strict building code - shook with such horror that my picture frames were crooked after all was said and done. I can remember when the worst of it blew through and I called family members who were 40 minutes away and warned them of what was to come. For months, I had nightmares of the whistling of the wind and banging of my shutters. I will never forget how terrifying it was to live through those moments. Hurricane Wilma was only a Category 1 when it made landfall. Since then, I have vowed to never, ever stay put if anything greater than that ever threatened us.
This weekend, my thoughts have been consumed by Hurricane Gustav, it's Category 3 status (for now) and it's likely path to New Orleans.
I asked Danny what he would do if we were the target of Gustav or another hurricane of it's capacity - would he stay or flee? Naturally, I answered before he could - I would run, run, run so far and so fast that heads would spin. I would drive to Dallas or New York or even Vermont; all places we have family, if I had to but under no circumstances would I stay here. At first reaction, Danny said he'd go, too but then changed his mind and said he'd stay. Excuse me? He said he'd want to protect our home and things from destruction and most of all, looters. He's always so paranoid about robbers and looters. I told him he could stay if he wanted to but he'd be alone. He tried to convince me with promises of beer and my Mom but I'm pretty sure my Mom would be in the passenger seat of the truck as we drove far North.

I take this opportunity to ask: What would you do in a situation like the fine people in New Orleans? Would you be like me and run as fast as the wind or would you be more like Danny and stay to protect your property?

As Hurricane Gustav roars towards the Gulf, I join the entire Nation in positive thoughts and prayers tonight.

Well, THAT was an anti-climatic ending!

So - only three people responded to my Great Card Giveaway of 2008 so all three people get cards. Two of whom have already received cards from me. If you're new here or just usually lurk and would like a card or two, please leave a comment or send me an email and I'll gladly share. That's how many cards I have.



I did some shopping in preparation for the long weekend which I fully intend on spending by making more cards. I felt like it took a long time to make a set of 4 so I decided to actually track it to see just how long it took. Turns out it takes two hours to make a set. That's a lot of hours! (My husband is going to send me a nasty email when he calculates the hours. That time could have been spent washing dishes.)



Six more hours were spent today. Take a look:




This was an adorable polka dot scrap paper I had. I was slightly distracted while making this set but when I came back to take the photo, I was pleasantly surprised by how they came out.


It's hard to see in the photo but this paper is pearlized (because I am fancy). There was a lot of loose glitter used on this set. I'm not sure how I'll ever part with any of these cards.


(Do not pay any attention to the bottom right photo which is upside down. Ahem.) This was a fun set. All the paper came from the same book so it was super easy to coordinate accent colors. I was pleased that I had embellishments on hand that went well with the theme.

Thanks to the (mere three) wonderful participants in this year's Great Card Giveaway!

And I don't even mention the DNC & Barack Obama's Speech

I've never discussed politics here for several reasons; the first being while I watch the news and consider myself a person who votes with knowledge, I don't know a lot about politics. The second reason is it's controversial. And I'd rather have people talking about me because of my exposed 7 year old boobies than my stance on politics. Simply for the record, I will divulge that I am a Democrat and think Hilary Rodham Clinton was robbed.
When it comes to local politics, I know even less than I do on a national level; which really is a shame because we all know it starts at home. However, when it comes to education and the way it's run in my community, I'm in the "need - to - know" category. (As in: I need to know everything.)
My child goes to a privately funded and operated charter school within the Broward County School District. I chose to send my child to a charter school for so many reasons - I cannot possibly list them all but public school here, in my opinion, is less than adequate. I was raised in public school and despite my klassy disposition and brighter than the stars intelligence (what? Stop laughing - it wasn't that funny.) , it did me no good. In addition to my own experience with public education, I've watched many of my family's and friend's children struggle and fail to thrive within the public school system.

Located just South of Broward County is Miami Dade County and their school district; the 4th largest district in the country. Miami Dade County School District's (MDCSD) superintendent is Dr. Rudy Crew. Let me tell you, Dr. Crew is in a heaping load of hot shit. Recently, the state's capital handed down educational budget cuts of historic proportions - mostly due to a "Penny Tax" which promises to lower property taxes by $200 per home over the next 10 years. These budget cuts were a serious problem for MDCSD because they were already up to their ears in debt since bringing on Dr. Crew in 2004. This week, Dr. Crew was asked by the board to balance the district's budget and come up with a plan that everyone could agree on. However, during this balance project, Dr. Crew and his team figured out that the school district was not $66 million dollars in debt as previously thought but $88 million dollars in debt. His reasoning for the astounding debt? He "over-spent" - that's what he says. Here are a few highlights from his "plan" to balance the budget:
1. Eliminated 254 teachers who are part of the bilingual programs (Spanish and Creole).
2. Eliminating 88 career specialists.
3. Cut paid Christmas recess days for teachers and staff.
4. Eliminate assistant principals for community school programs.
5. Require administrators to substitute teach one day a month.
6. Eliminate 24 audio / visual clerk positions.
7. Take 22 million dollars from the district's "Rainy Day Fund".

What he did not suggest was reducing or forfeiting his $700,000 salary. He's willing to cut hundreds of jobs in addition to the hundreds of police officers, janitors, cafeteria staff and teachers who were already cut over the summer; but he's not willing to take a pay cut for himself.
How do you propose cutting teachers who are part of the bilingual program in a county where 70 percent of the student body's first language is not English? As for cutting paid Christmas recess days for teachers and staff; I would expect Dr. Crew will be included in that plan, too. But he wont.
My biggest gripe is taking $22 million dollars from the "Rainy Day Fund". This withdraw will leave only 4 million dollars in the fund. For the entire year. For the entire county. Which is the 4th largest district in the US. When Hurricane Wilma ravaged through Broward County three years ago, Broward County School District lost $2 million dollars in food from the lunch program alone. That money was replaced by their "Rainy Day Fund". There are three tropical storms in the Atlantic as I type and we're not even half way through hurricane season yet. To say that MDCSD would be extremely venerable with a mere $4 million dollars in the fund is a gross understatement. The slightest emergency, need or unexpected funding would leave the district completely, flat broke. Living - on - the - street - begging - for - money - on - the - side - of - the - highway - broke.

Even though my child is not a victim student of MDCSD, I consider myself an advocate for equitable and decent education for all children. I'm simply blown away by the enormous insubordinate and neglect this Superintendent has shown this board, the county and poor souls who attend MDCSD.

All I have to say is: God Bless Charter Schools.

Drywall dust made a liar out of me.

Remember when I inhaled 5 hours worth of drywall dust? Turns out that stuff causes bronchitis! And when I'm plagued with an illness such as bronchitis - where I sleep less than 3 hours per night, spend the rest of my time coughing uncontrollably and crying from the chest and neck pains - I take medicine.

Here's the MasterCard version.

Spackle putty and sander: $8
Materials to make artwork: $25
Prescription Z-pack antibiotic: $20
Prescription cough syrup with codeine: $10
Prescription asthma inhaler: $38
Trip to ER: $100
Having a husband who'll pay for all of those things and hold your hand while you're crying hysterically when having an IV inserted and threaten to take a picture for your blog: priceless.

The Evening Quickie

(Alternatively titled: Holy crap, I haven't been this sick since I was 9 years old - why, oh why God, do you smite me?)

I'm sick. I'm not really sure with what yet and no, I haven't gone to the doctor and no, I haven't taken any medicine besides Advil. I don't really do medicine because I'm a Scientologist. Just kidding. There are lots of reasons why but I only tell that information to people after I've slept with them. I'm going to get a little descriptive with my symptoms here so if you're squeamish to mucous, snot and other questionable liquids leaking from my head, I suggest you stop reading after the sentence before this one.

My sinuses are clogged with a lot of stuff - some of it I can blow out, others that I can feel dripping into my throat. I'm trying to avoid swallowing at all costs as to avoid an Olympic Event of Mucous Puking. I am also coughing but not an extraordinary amount and I"m not really getting anything up from my lungs. I have the weirdest sore throat, too. It doesn't hurt to swallow but it hurts to spit or cough. The good news is, I can still talk and eat copious amount of Twinkies and the such. The bad news is the Twinkies and such taste like boogers.

There is a hurricane coming. On Monday. Which is the 1st day of school. And I haven't been the grocery store for water and other essentials yet. In case you're wondering if I have any plans for tomorrow, I will be standing in line at Publix tomorrow for seventeen hours waiting in line to pay for those water and other essentials. Maybe I can cough all over everyone and they'll let me skip line. (I really doubt it - this is South Florida and we are ruder than the fine folks in NYC.)

This is officially my 99th post and it's not too late to ask your questions. I will be posting the final questions on #100 whenever I'm feeling better and / or Florida Power & Light restores my power after the hurricane. Whichever comes first.

*Edited to add - because when it rains, baby, it pours in the Brown Household, our a/c isn't working now. And it's 89 degrees at 10 o'clock at night. I suppose that's really quite convenient, though, seeing as how we won't have power pretty soon anyway.

I want that pretty recycled one Dooce featured yesterday

I really need to get a small notebook to carry around because over the past few days, I've thought of some funny blog topics and even some hilarious sentences to go with them. Except I forgot them all and you're stuck with this hodge-podge of my life for this week.

While I was kissing and tickling Olivia, I told her I love her more than anything else in the world and she's my #1. She was very pleased with this information but her response was less than impressive (at least it was for me). "You're my number two. Daddy is my number one." This is why I want a boy next time.

My sleeping patterns are so jacked up this week. I'm writing it off to Aunt Flo but I need to resume to my regularly scheduled programming soon before I go insane.

Olivia goes back to school this Monday (hallelujah) but there is still so much I need to do at school, it's frightening. I'm off from work on Friday and that happens to be the same day as Open House. I hope I can spend endless hours there this week or else I'll never be ready in time.

My kitchen is a mess and I'm not trying to be facetious. The fish bowl is so dirty, poor Tommy the Beta cannot see out of it. The laundry is piled up to the ceiling and I haven't decided when there will be time to chip away at it. And that bathroom has that smell again.

It has rained every single day this Summer. I know it's South Florida so it's expected to rain a lot in the summer but seriously - this is enough. I've only been in the pool once and that's really disappointing. I'm hoping for a better weekend this weekend because I cannot go to the first day of school all pale.

Danny has agreed to let me paint the dining room wall whatever color I want. This is a huge victory in our home but now I can't decide what color I want. He doesn't care, as long as I leave him out of it but I need him to come with me to pick out paint colors.

Speaking of Danny, he recently insulted my artwork on the living room wall. My feelings were really hurt and I've spent a lot of time thinking about what I can do to improve the situation. I had a EUREKA! thought today and when I suggested it, he was very confused and told me he loved the wall with the quotes and why did I want to change it? I reminded him of his harsh criticism from the other day and he laughed and said "that's just what we do. We hurt each other's feelings. Some people buy each other presents and give nice cards - we throw insults." I haven't really resolved how I feel about this but if you know my husband, it was a sweet thing for him to say. Like the time he told me that "you don't give away a Rolls Royce just because it has a couple of scratches and dents" when I asked him if he would ever leave me.

I'm not sure if I'm coming down with a cold (in the middle of August) or if the all the drywall dust I took in last weekend has had an adverse effect on my respitory system but man, I've got a sore throat.

I've started my 100th post but have post-dated it. I'm glad to say that I've answered all of your questions with complete honesty. It's not too late to ask questions, though. Just leave a comment here with your question and I'll include it with #100.

Blog Etiquette and That Game We're Playing

Remember when I told you all it was my 96th post and that for my 100th post I wanted to answer questions that all of you, my new friends, asked me?
Um, yeah.
I thought it was my 96th post because Blogger told me so. But they were counting my drafts - which I was not. So, THIS is actually my 92nd post. Which, really - is great news because it means there's more time for you to submit your questions!
I ask (ahem - beg) all of you who visit to leave a comment asking me a question. The more random, the more personal, the funnier - the better.

Speaking of my 100th post. I found out today that it's Blog Tradition to post 100 facts about yourself (or something) in honor of your 100th post. Well, I've never been one to follow the rules and I'm sure as hell not going to start now. I'll post my 100 facts as my 101st post. TAKE THAT BLOGOSPHERE! (It's really quite sad how happy the slightest rebellion makes me.)

Know what else I learned about blogging today? That you're supposed to ask permission before you add someone to your blog roll. Rut-roh, Shaggy. I haven't asked anyone for any kind of permission. I feel pretty bad but not bad enough that I'm willing to go back and ask permission after the fact. But if you're on my blog roll and don't want to be, let me know and I'll gladly remove you. I will also stop reading your blog and possibly tell everyone about how rude you are. Just kidding. Maybe.

They say He works in mysterious ways - I think he's got a sense of humor

This morning, just after I was greeted by That Bitch Aunt Flo, I read that Jenna Jameson and Tito Ortiz are having a baby. I thought - seriously? God gives Jenna Jameson and Tito Ortiz a baby as I sit here in a pool of tears over the lack of my own pregnancy? I wallowed that way for a good part of this morning until I read my horoscope:

It may seem like everyone around you is happy and getting what they want, while you are still stuck in the trenches, dear Sagittarius. Don't compare yourself to other people and make judgments based on their outside appearances.

Ok, now I feel bad for judging Jenna Jameson for her choice of profession and Tito Ortiz for being an ultimate moron. They deserve a baby just as much as I do and who am I to bargain with God on matters of life?

But still...Jenna Jameson and Tito Ortiz?

Why I Blog Answer

There has been a theme going around in the blogsphere (blogosphere?) these days; Why I Blog? I've come across too-many-to-mention posts about this and y'all know I don't like to be left out of these kinds so here's my version. It's deep, yo.

During 6th grade part deux, I was blessed with an English teacher - the only teacher - who believed in me. I stayed with her throughout the rest of middle school, one year as her "aide" and another year when she was yearbook advisor. She had a serious impact on my education and was the first (read: only) one to tell me I had a writing talent. I think that comment was found on an essay I wrote about why it's bad to do drugs. (Which, only a couple of years later, would prove so, so ironic in my life.) Before Ms. Weiner (swear to God), I thought I was never going to be good at anything, especially in school but thanks to her taking the time out to build my confidence, I did what any 13 year old girl would do. I wrote really, really bad poetry. I wrote poetry to boys I liked but dissed me, I wrote poetry to girlfriends about girl power (very Spice Girl-esqe) and I wrote poetry about what a horrible, sullen life I had and left it out for my mother to find.
Somewhere between 6th grade part deux English class and raves and ecstasy in 9th grade, I forgot I was smart. I rediscovered my intelligence by watching the news when I was pregnant with Olivia and I was convinced at that time that I'd been dealt a really bad hand. All this intelligence and a baby to hold me down - what a shame. Then Olivia was born and I was swept off my feet by loving her and busy rebelling against the "babies having babies" stigma and I forgot my smarts again.
My creative time between then and around 2006 was filled with writing proposals to replace computer room air conditioning units and faux-lawyer letters on behalf of Danny and his band. Then I joined myspace (classy) and discovered their blog section; immediately intrigued, I started reading other people's blogs and shortly thereafter, decided I would write one myself. My early posts are really bad, in my opinion, except the one I wrote about my sister; which I only think was as good because it was the first time I wrote from my heart. (Bad 6th grade poetry excluded, of course.) Myspace blogging became an obsession; I evaluated every minute of my life in blog terms: would this be funny, how could I write this, etc. There is a time frame of almost 1 year where there are no posts on my blog because I forgot about me; I completely dove into the needs of everyone else (as do most other moms). There were several months of depression that probably should have been medicated but wasn't and before long, I was ok.

The bottom line is: I write because it makes me feel smart again. It makes me remember that I'm not just a paper-shuffler or a PTA mom or a Spacemen groupie. Of course, it's something all of my own; which is almost always a common denominator in she-bloggers. And there's the documentation part of it - I'll always have these archives to look back on the time when I was trying to conceive baby Scooter (ha), or was dragged into a lawsuit I didn't want to be involved in and of course, that beautiful time before Olivia was a snot-nose brat (wait, when was that?).

I'm someone who has something to say - even if it isn't always good or funny or thought-provoking or blog-roll worthy.

Worst $15 spent EVER

New OB/GYN: Hi Sophia, why are you here today?

Me: I want to have a baby...We're trying to have a baby.

Doctor: How long have you been trying?

Me: We haven't. We start on Monday.

:::crickets chirpping:::

Doctor: :::blink::: Um. Ok. So why are you here?

Me: :::nervous chuckle::: Well, see, I was 17 when I had my first child and she was unplanned, obviously. And um, I didn't know if there was a special "grown-up" way to plan and prepare to have a baby. I guess....I just wanted to do it all right and proper this time.

Doctor: Ok. How did you get pregnant last time?

Me: Possibly mind altering chemicals and definitely a lot of cheap beer.

Doctor: Sounds good. Try that. :::laughs::: Just have lots of sex.

Me: :::blink - blink - blink:::

For it is a temple

Dear Body,

First, I would like to thank you for cooperating this afternoon at the gynecologist's office. It was a drastic improvement from our last gyno visit; which as we both remember was less than pleasant - hell, it wasn't even sane. It may have helped that I called in the appropriate anti-anxiety friends to calm you but still - I give credit where credit is due.

Body, I know I haven't always been kind to you. After all, I've spent a lot of years filtering nicotine into your blood stream and eating more than our share (and a small African community) of Twinkies, ho ho's and Hershey bars. But this time you've really gone too far. I tried giving you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you missed the Twitter where I announced to you and your organisms, cells and other crucial elements that we are on a diet. However, the debilitating headaches and endless lack of energy proves to me that you've noticed the aforementioned sugar and other miscellaneous junk food disappearance. This isn't any old diet, you know. This is the diet in which I am preparing you to gain even more mass for the purpose of procreation. I know you probably don't want to manage another 30lbs on top of what we've already got going on and I'm only looking out for your best interests here.

So please tell me why - after 7 days of strict dietary cut-backs and enormous amounts of water - have you gained 3 flecking pounds?

Sincerely Yours,
Sophia

The one where I want to kiss Al Gore

This morning, as per my regular AM routine, I sat outside with coffee. And I did not sweat. Not only did I not break a sweat, when the wind blew, I got a little chill.
Enjoyable, right?
Except we're in the very sunny and very hot South Florida. It's not supposed to be 73 degrees in the middle of July. Crap, it's hardly 73 degrees in the middle of January.
What gives, Momma Nature? What gives?

Getting on that Pop Star band wagon

When you have a 7 1/2 year old daughter who's allowed to watch Disney Channel exclusively*, it's only natural that an embarrassing amount of the family budget goes towards Hannah Montana junk.

Hannah's original ego, Miley Cyrus has a new CD coming out on July 22nd (Happy Birthday, Mom!) and her first single from that CD is "7 Things". Here's the video. Here are the lyrics.

First, Miley co-wrote the song; which for the record, I really like - it's catchy and smart. I've been bopping to it for a week. I completely relate to the lyrics (I love being 26 - makes it easier to remember being 15.) and the video is original.
Second, I feel bad for what the media has done to poor Miley. The media & her parents are to blame for that whole "Mileygate" incident. (Hm, blaming media & parents - Lindsay Lohan, anyone?) All in all, I think she's a cute girl from a cute town with a cute voice. I like her. And if you can keep your kids away from mainstream media (meaning anything NOT Disney Channel), she's an excellent role model for little girls.

Now, I'm going to pick on her a little bit. Before you read ahead, please click on the link above to see the lyrics.
Perhaps while Miles was trying on blonde wigs, she missed the part in math class where you learn to count to 12. Because that's how many things she hates about you. Not 7.
Go see the video now. Back? Ok. Seriously, what's with the "shaw"s? I don't get it. And the over exaggerated facial expressions are just killing me. I've resorted to having to watch the Sims version of the video because I cannot stop the giggling once I get to the end of the video with all the melodrama.

Please excuse me while I pre-order my daughter's copy of the cd.

*I've found Disney Channel to be the only channel with programming that my child can watch unsupervised. That doesn't mean her and her father sneak in an episode of Family Guy once a week. Good, wholesome family togetherness.

The vacation that wasn't a vacation

You may have noticed that I haven't mentioned my vacation yet... I wasn't going to as I'm still emotionally recovering from what was the most exhausting (and by exhausting I do not mean exhilarating) vacation of my life.
My beloved grandmother experienced flu-like symptoms shortly before my arrival; nothing to worry about, just a little bug. Except the day I arrived, something was off. Except my grandmother is the type of woman who raised 11 children - 6 of them not biologically hers - who suffered from various handicaps (some physical, some emotional). So she refuses to be knocked down by anything - especially a tiny little flu bug. We were all muzzled from expressing our concerns on her health that day and decided Day 2 would be much better. You can probably predict this next sentence: She was not better; she was worse. Way worse. She was in and out of consciousness, didn't recognize any of us, even her favorite sister and was so sick, she literally could not sit up on her own. There were several hours of pleading, arguing and demanding before her favorite sister sat on my Gram's bed and said if she didn't go to the hospital, we would call 911 and that would create a big scene at the campground. A few more hours pass and we've finally got her into the tiny but efficient hospital. Assuming she is simply exhausted, dehydrated and with flu symptoms, we conclude "they" (hospital peeps) will keep her overnight with IV fluids, a couple of bottles full of pills and send her on her way. Turns out she was suffering from pneumonia and was bit by a (non-deer) tick and was very, very, very ill. She stayed in the hospital 3 more days - more than half of my time in Vermont.
I can handle physical illness - give me your best puking, coughing up phlegm and bleeding from limbs and I'm ok. I don't do emotional and mental illness well. Especially from my grandmother who's been a strong, sharp and quick personality in my life. Gram was confused. You could see it in her enlarged eyes; it was terrifying. I could not cry because crying meant something was wrong and there was reason to be scared.
I rented a car and took Olivia to a couple of planned visits throughout New England and to my sister's house for a sleep over with her cousins. We had a nice visit with my sister and spent a lot of time with my favorite Great-Aunt. But I still couldn't cry. Because we only cry if something is wrong and nothing can be wrong with my Gram. She's fine.
I was relieved to leave after seeing her gain a tiny bit of strength every day. She was able to keep food down a little more every time and was even enjoying some time outdoors.

She's still not 100% better. I'm afraid to wonder if she'll ever get back to 100%. We were in Vermont to celebrate her 70th birthday and I just cannot bear to even consider the facts of her age, illness and recovery rate.

I did finally cry for about a week when I got home. She's not going to die, you know. She's going to get better and live to see many, many more great grandchildren. I have to believe that because when she dies, it's going to be the most horrific experience of my life. And I don't know how I'll survive it.

Pros & Cons List: The Pre-Vacation Edition

Olivia and I are going to Vermont in three short days. Here's a list of pre-vacation issues.



I broke my favorite (and only) prescription sunglasses.

Pro: No one in Vermont can appreciate DKNY sunglasses anyway.

Con: Dude - they're my favorite glasses and they don't make them anymore!



WWIII has erupted among my in-laws.

Pro: They're not the one's I'm visiting on vacation.

Con: My husband has to stay home and deal with it.



In a packing preparation frenzy, 9 loads of laundry were done.

Pro: My mom did it for me.

Con: Having to be 26 & still ask your mom to help with laundry.



I always have to clean my entire house before going on vacation.

Pro: Come home to a clean house.

Con: Or not because my husband is staying home.



I won't have Internet access in Vermont.

Pro: I'll get to enjoy the scenery and beauty that only a New England summer can provide.

Con: How will I keep up with Bossy, Mir and Dooce for over a week?

I'm out of order? YOU'RE out of order! This whole room is out of order!

For reasons that I don't think I can publicly discuss; my life has been unusually stressful this week. Let's just say, someone I used to work for is suing someone I may or may not currently work for and I was dragged into the middle to give some information to someone. Yeah, good luck with this one. I am trying to remember to use my blog as a stress reliever instead of...oh, let's say a bag of Tootsie Rolls. But that's kind of like remembering to use your inside voice while in a library and being attacked by killer meal worms. Visualize that for a minute. Not so easy, eh?



Hypothetically, if you ever have to interview me in a legal setting, allow me to give you some handy pointers. (Why, yes, I am extremely considerate.) First, do not start by reminding me how stupid I am. I am as stupid as you want me to be. Second, it does not bode well with me to display manipulative behavior. I may or may not have a fancy law degree from a fancy school but I am ghetto. And us ghetto rats can identify manipulative and similar behaviors immediately. Third, do not loose your temper; the madder you are, the more confident I am. You're welcome.

I couldn't be happier this week is over. I didn't know it was going to be so draining and stressful. I also didn't know I would relieve those emotions by crying for several hours (also - I ate many Tootsie Rolls).

Mommy needs a nap

If you've ever had the torture (I mean, pleasure) of watching Dora the Explorer, you're probably familiar with the song "He's a grumpy old troll" which is all about a grumpy old troll who lives under a bridge and won't ever let Dora and her friends over without serious effort. Except now, I think that song was written about me.
Maybe I'm PMSing and since I don't track my - ahem - cycles, I never know when that bitch Aunt Ruby is going to rear her ugly head and turn my world upside down for the 3 days before her visit. None the less - I'm very crabby. And emotional. And sensitive. And everyone is getting on my GOD DAMNED nerves!
So I'm not sure if God is considering my file for admission into heaven someday but I'm pretty sure I've left him confused with yesterday's events. I was in Target for some Retail Therapy with crap from China and there was an elderly woman in a motorized scooter trying to maneuver her way though the women's clothing racks. She was having quite a bit of difficulty and so I (Hercules), moved two shelving racks so she could get through. Guaranteed admission ticket, right?
Except several hours later, I was in Publix at around 5:30 pm; which, apparently is the worst time to be there. I needed items from the deli so I instructed The Husband to stand in the sub line while I stood in the fresh sliced deli line. A very nosy woman (clearly without sense of intuition because I had to have had the look and she didn't take it as a clue) gave me two instructions on how to purchase both deli & subs at the same time. There was some confusing discussion and I finally looked at her and said "How would you suggest I do two things at once?". Except I was very snarky and had the tone. 2.2 seconds later I was buried with guilt. But later came to the conclusion that really, she deserved it. And after that, I realized that I snapped on a stranger who was probably trying to make that moment in my life a little easier because I AM SO TIRED OF PEOPLE TELLING ME WHAT TO DO!
Who knows what ultimate fate God will present to me when the time comes (a very, very, very long time from now - I'd like to be rewarded from this stage of my life also known as hell, aka life with a 7 year old girl, with grandchildren). But surely, He's got some thinkin' to do!

People who don't look in the mirror

We spent a lovely Mother's Day Weekend at the Nick Hotel in Orlando, FL. I may write a review on this hotel later but I've got more urgent things to discuss. (The hotel, really, was very nice and I would highly recommend it to anyone with children ages 3 - 15.)

Allow me to prelude my thesis by saying I am all about women embracing their bodies regardless of what it looks like, is shaped like, weighs, etc. More so, I am in support of knowing what you can and cannot pull off in relation to your body type. Love yourself no matter what. But seriously...? Know your limit.

This hotel has two water parks which translates to many families in bathing suits. I've learned one very important fact about American mothers this weekend; many do not own mirrors nor do they utilize mirrors in fitting rooms. This was proven to me by the visual display American women put on during thier stay at the Nick Hotel. Women weighing in at over 200 lbs should not wear string bikinis. If the majority of your clothing (and especially undergarments) comes from the plus size section - you should not wander into the Juniors department for swimwear. I'm just sayin'.
As an American mother who looks like most other American mothers and not like Nicole Richie or Christina Aguilera; I fully sympathize with the struggle to find the bathing suit. I know that I can't wear a bikini.
Here's my question: When the plus-size women tried on their bathing suit, did they decide that string bikini was the one for them? Did their companion encourage this unscrupulous purchase? (Because just like finding ass-jeans, you must always bring a companion when bathing suit shopping.) Perhaps this was a purchase that was made 70lbs ago? But before you left your Spongebob Square Pants suite and headed down to the pool, did you check yourself in the 4 mirrors located in each suite? At that time, did you get that warm and fuzzy feeling one usually gets when looking smokin' hot? Also - a tan (even the spray-on kind) really helps deflect the sun from your white body.

In relation - if you are a woman who is lucky enough / works hard enough to obtain a string bikini-worthy body, here's a loving note of advice: When enjoying a day of leisure poolside with your children at a children's themed hotel, please refrain from thong bathing suits. There are pre-teen/adolescent boys here who may become victim of injury attempting to stare at your ass. Because it's the first ass they've seen in person who isn't related to them. I'm sure their tube socks, washcloths and Kleenex will thank you tonight.