Why yes, it HAS been six months since my last mammogram ALREADY. Thank you so much for remembering. You know how I do so love spending the entire morning having my boobs squashed between plexiglass in the name of health. No, I've never had breast cancer. Nor do I plan to. But until my breasts stop being lumpy I seem to have drawn the scan/poke/prod card when it comes to mammary health. You're welcome. (Me so sexy!) Anyway, now that we're all picturing my LUMPY BOOBS (sorry, Dad) (sorry, Otto), I have to go run over to the hospital to have them smashed. FABULOUS. Since I'm short on time, I...
Hey, I have a friend who is having a birthday today. She is turning... awesome! Stupendous! Magnificent! And---most importantly---OLDER THAN ME. So I will nod sympathetically and pat her hair (or at least try to, from afar) all the while hoping that she will be nice to me when I reach... the birthday she's at now. Maybe you know my friend? Joshilyn Jackson? Seems like perhaps some of you know her. And perhaps you know that her new book just came out. Why, I'm stalking my UPS guy daily, waiting for my copy. Although, who am I kidding? I will end up going to the bookstore and buying a copy...
Once upon a time there was a small boy who became overly attached to his stuffed puppy. The puppy's name was, of course, Puppy. And everything the boy did, he did with his puppy. And any time you suggested a game or a book or even a TV show, the boy had to check with Puppy, first, to make sure that that was okay. At bedtime, his mother had to kiss him AND Puppy goodnight, or he couldn't sleep. And if Puppy was missing at bedtime? Well, let's just say you'd better find him. STAT. This was extremely charming when the boy was two or three years old, but was becoming tiresome by age six or so....
The thing that has been hardest for me about moving is making new friends. And part of me feels ridiculous, saying that, because I don't really have trouble getting along with people. (You, in the back---shut it.) I'm not particularly shy. I'll talk to anyone, and despite frequently ramping the dork factor all the way up to 11, FOR THE MOST PART I'm able to enter a social situation and interact in a socially acceptable manner with others. The problem comes in establishing friendships which go beyond "Hey, how ya doing?" or "I think my kid just kicked your kid in the nuts. I'm really sorry."...
You should totally come visit me. I am such a great hostess! Your every need will be solicitously attended to, and the overall feeling will be one of complete and utter specialness. Why, just ask Joshilyn. You can't ask her right this second, because she is driving home, but once she gets there and detoxes from the splendor of my presence, I'm sure she can tell you with only a little bit of twitching. Your marvelous Casa Mir experience starts even before you arrive, when I get it into my head to clean the house so as to best pretend that I normally just keep it clean rather than occasionally...
Good news! Today was not nearly so hot as yesterday. I mean, yes, OKAY, it was 101 today just like yesterday, and the heat index was around 108, but it was PARTLY CLOUDY. So. Ever so much better. Today would've been a good day to stay inside and do work, and I managed to do that, for most of the morning, but eventually I had to give in to my children's demands that we goooooo swiiiiiimiiiiiiing. And because I can only spend so long in the pool with them before I start wondering important things like "would it be child abuse to pick up this dead cricket and place it atop my child's head?" or...
I'll confess; I'd been feeling a little sorry for myself this week because I wasn't planning to attend BlogHer. The week was going well and I was, frankly, starting to question my decision not to travel this summer "for the good of the family." My family was FINE! And I was going to miss out on a trip to Chicago! And then yesterday my daughter's head actually spun all the way around and I realized that if I HAD gone to Chicago, Otto would likely never speak to me again when I got back, and assuming that the kids were even still alive, that would be yet another scar on their tender psyches....
We had some people over for dinner tonight, and by "some people" I mean "friends of Otto's" and by "dinner" I mean "sort of a barbecue where we all hang out on the porch for most of it." The house is not "done" by any stretch of the imagination, but it's close enough that we were able to take the unopened boxes and shove them out of the way, more or less, and after I vacuumed and Otto finished pulling down the painter's tape waaaaay up high that's been there for, um, three weeks (shut up) it almost looked like we live here for real. These were all people I've met before, good and nice and...
Hello! I would've blogged last night except that I was busy trying to extract my own eyeball and go to sleep. Simultaneously. In an effort to celebrate the 4th of July in style, we packed up the kids and headed to Joshilyn's house. Joss had put on her very best southern accent and assured me that they "do it up right 'round here" when she invited us a while back, and who am I to turn down such an invitation? I had mentioned to Joss (several times) that Chickadee was dying, and I do mean DYING, to meet Maisy. Chickie loves little kids. Well I guess this had been passed along to Miss Maisy,...
