Monkey claims that 13 is his lucky number, in large part, because it's mine. He still thinks I'm cool; he still wants to like what I like and do as I do. You, on the other hand, suffer under no such delusions. If I say it's black, you are all but legally obligated to say that it's white. If I dance to a song, you roll your eyes and make a mental note of the song's now inherent uncoolness. If I remind you to thank me for something, you deadpan, "Thank you so much, Mom, you're are quite simply the very greatest," and don't even crack a smile until I start laughing. But you also curl up with me...
You asked (over on Facebook) for the famous Mir's Dad to come and write so, while my lovely bride (oh, hey - this is Otto tapping at you now) is off getting lovelier, he was ordered to hunt and peck his way through writer's block (hard, when you're an architect by trade and nature, to problem solve in your kid's realm) and create the following missive. So, some rules: We love Mir's dad. He's awesome. You must agree to this before clicking through to his post. No nasty comments or he'll leave mean ones on your blog. The chances of him registering "mirsdad.com" are pretty slim, but you can...
Today is Christmas. Oh, okay; TECHNICALLY today isn't Christmas, but today is OUR Christmas, because the kids are leaving tomorrow. Which means that there is currently a big mess of wrapping paper in my family room. My biggest concern with the whole timing thing was not, in fact, today, but last night. See, the elves bring new pajamas on Christmas Eve. And the kids had already been informed that there was no way that Santa could come early---he is far too busy in these last days before the holiday, after all---but that we would do our family gifts, and after they return we'll see if Santa...
Today I am running around, trying to do at least twelve things at once. There's work to be done and errands to attend to and the dog wants to play (which, YAY, but also, kind of busy here, pup!) and despite their "help" I had to really clean the kids' bathroom, today, just to preserve my own sanity. This afternoon my mother-in-law and her sister (Otto's aunt and godmother) are arriving for their first visit to our home in Georgia. For those of you who are new, or maybe just to refresh your memory, Otto's mom was sick and unable to travel for far too long. After a prolonged and scary medical...
There are crumbs on the table and dust bunnies on the floor and there's something sticky on the back corner of that one shelf in the fridge that I'm afraid to investigate. I'm tired and I'm getting a cold and my desk is a mess and the laundry's piling up and it's rainy and disgusting outside. I am profoundly grateful for all of it. This life, my life, is sweeter and more blessed than I deserve. Every year I dread my birthday---vestiges of ghosts long since past---and every year it arrives and I look around and realize, "Life is good and I am lucky." Because it is, and I am. Even if this IS...
Today I have almost nothing for you; I am busy continuing Operation Kill Fleas Immediately If Not Sooner, and that involves a lot of vacuuming and laundry and also bathing a dog who is really not all that jazzed about finding herself in the sink. AGAIN. Also I am trying to spend some quality time with my children, which would be a lot easier if they would stop doing things like shoving garbage in their closets and then swearing that they'd cleaned their rooms (and then getting all offended when their jerkery is discovered). AHEM. (Jerkery is SO a word, by the way.) Anyway. Two very cool...
Why yes, I am blogging from the middle of the ocean. I have to purchase some Internet time here on the ship at the luxury rate of about a bajillion dollars a minute so that I can do a little work, so I figured in for a penny, in for a pound---you get a piece of me, too. Lucky you! Yesterday was a VERY long day. It turns out that the business of getting to the port, meeting up with eight other people in your party, getting through security and check-in, and then finally boarding the damn ship takes quite a while. And then just as you're thinking to yourself, "Wow, I'm on a floating city and...
I am coming to you live from the new and improved Woulda Coulda Shoulda, which was redone to match the new and improved Want Not, which pretty much makes me squeal with glee every time I look at it. If you're looking for a crack team of web designers, I heartily recommend the folks over at LEAP. They not only made everything gorgeous, they totally put up with my truckload of neuroses while they did it. And I'm pretty sure they didn't even charge me any extra. Anyway, I spent about twelve hours yesterday sitting here at my desk, programming stores into Want Not's new little mini-marketplace...
For the first time in my life, I have made a sizable, life-changing resolution for the new year. This will be the year I take my health more seriously. Otherwise known as: The year I learn to love or at least tolerate exercise, or die in the attempt. Otherwise known as: The year I refuse to get my ass kicked in a friendly little competition just because I have all the willpower of a jar of mayonnaise. Mmmmm... mayonnaise.... Wait. Where was I? Oh! Right. The competition starts tomorrow. So today, Otto and I went out to lunch for my favorite food on the planet and I ate myself silly. And then...
