wait. it’s fall?

I want some cool clothes
nothing major, just short pants
this shouldn’t be hard

It’s July.
It’s 105.
It’s Texas.

I went to, you know, buy some shorts because it’s effing hot. Guess what? Ain’t nobody got any shorts to sell. Only sweaters and jeans. There are some clearance "bermuda shorts" (aka: 1985 jams without the flowers) but no real shorts. Because apparently it’s Fall Shopping Season.



just makin’ stuff up
stunning creativity
and edibly cute

Before I forget these, I really need to write them down. So forgive me for sliding into the "aw isn’t that cute" mom thing. I can’t help it.

The wee one has a fairly big vocabulary for a three-year-old, and he’s easily understandable by strangers… most of the time. Lately he’s taken to mimicking words he hears – and he doesn’t always hear them right. When all else fails, he just makes a word (or a phrase) up. Here are a few of the stand-outs:

Amn’t: used as "are not" or "am not", also in lieu of "aren’t".
Example: "Wee One, are you finished with your dinner?"
                "No mommy, I amn’t. Can I have some more pasta?"

Dinner floss: "dental floss"
Example: "Mommy, I have pasta in my teeth. Can I have some dinner floss to get it out?"

Chocklick: "chocolate"
Example: "I ate ice cream, mommy, and now I have a chocklick tongue!"

Buzz Lightyear Suit: This has somehow come to mean "naked".
Example: "Wee One, why are you naked? We have guests."
                "I amn’t naked, mommy! I have on my Buzz Lightyear suit!"


funky stiff fingers
clenching fist carpal tunnel
repressing rage much?

I’ve just realized that when I read certain blogs and/or web sites I clench my fists. I had no idea I was doing this until my knuckles began to ache. This is weird, no?


a summertime hue
like oven-roasted chicken
legs crackle in sun

it’s desperation
when the only thing TiVo’d
is show about boobs

I should have guessed that
even a show about boobs
sucks on A&E

texans have just as
many words for "damn hot" as
eskimos for "snow"

air-conditioned ears
just one big benefit from
my awesome haircut

fall dance class at 1?
but that’s the scared nap time
a tough decision

boring are these odes
even if like yoda wrote
still they suck some ass

just wondering

fly outside window
he’s laughing and thumbing "nose"
flies are smart assholes

This post has nothing to do with flies.

I’m just wondering why a collector’s edition ice cream container is necessary. I like that it looks cool. I mean, my ice cream container has the Alamo on it. That’s kind of interesting. But why is it a "collector"? Am I supposed to eat all of the ice cream, wash it, and save the cardboard? Seriously?

I’m also wondering why strip malls, regular malls, grocery stores, etc. find it necessary to put hedges and fat ass bushes in their parking lots? Maybe it makes your parking lot look prettier, but it does not make my car look prettier when I have a big dent in it from some poor person who didn’t see me coming around the fat ass hedge.

I wonder why the wee one will happily color his entire hand with markers and then flip the fuck out when he gets chocolate from an ice cream sandwich on his fingers.

I wonder why two-week-old, lost sippy cups full of chocolate milk only resurface when someone is visiting my house.

I wonder why I’m sitting here typing this when I should be making pickles from the approximately 17,000 cucumbers from the garden.

Making pickles vs blogging. This is what my life has come to.


it is so damn hot
my boobs melted together
big, gross uniboob

right. seriously.
car says it’s one eleven
and that’s not the time

tiny boy’s head sweat
soaks through the car seat padding
does not smell so great

hail the TV god
well, sure it’s not the playground
won’t cause heat stroke, though

It’s happened

is it really bye?
no, it’s just personal growth
right? right? Oh, god, right?

I’m sitting here watching Piglet’s Big Movie with the wee one, and I am groovin’ to the Carly Simon songs. It’s as if I can hear an omniscient cackling above my head, and one greater being saying to another one, "The transformation is almost complete."

Please tell me this *gulp* enjoyment of Carly Simon Piglet songs won’t turn me into a wal-mart shopping suburban zombie. Please tell I won’t all of a sudden, find NIN’s Closer a horrifyingly dirty song that makes me want to take a shower.

There’s room in my head for both Closer and Deep in the Hundred Acre Woods, isn’t there?

Oh, good grief, there’s a dirty joke hiding here somewhere and I just can’t quite figure it out.


embrace the challenge
or else you will lose your mind
while cleaning his room

I have never actually been rock-climbing. I have a hard enough time just walking normally without falling on my ass. I must say, though, that some rock-climbing equipment sure would come in handy around the house. Especially when trying to make my way into/across/around the wee one’s bedroom.

Sharply cleated shoes would help me get a toe-hold amongst the wreckage of plastic. And some rope life-lines would be nice for the times I fear the legos might actually swallow me alive. I also think some of those ice-climbing pick-axe things would be nice. I could just toss one of those babies into the wall and heave myself to safety.

This death-defying, horizontal bedroom navigation is really taking a toll on my ankles and heels. There are only so many times a foot can take stepping on a small green toy soldier before just completely giving way.

Did you even see the Malcolm in the Middle where Dewey and his dad spent all day creating a lego wonderland in their living room, and the mom comes home from work, trips on something, and destroys the whole thing in a slow-motion, Godzilla kind of scene, waving her arms, and slow-motiony roaring?

This happens to me everyday in the wee one’s room. But if I had some rope, a pick-axe, just the right shoes, and possibly a backpack full of protein bars, I might be able to endure the rigorous terrain.

That, or I could box all the shit up and take it to Goodwill.

fweeeeeeeee POP, BANG, ARGH

please don’t burn it down
zealous patriotic guy
we live here you know

Happy Neighbors Trying To Burn Down Your House By Shooting Off Illegal Fireworks In The Cul-De-Sac Even Though It’s Literally 104 Outside And Windy Day!


brain isn’t working
must be off for July fourth
gray matters no more

I have no idea what to write about but I thought I’d post anyway. How’s that for the number one rule to creating a scintillating blog.

Right now the wee one is standing on the cushionless sofa (he threw all the cushions on the floor to make a mountain) and he’s looking around the room through a backwards spyglass. And he’s naked. Because it’s 104. I should be naked too.

So that’s pretty much it. An ordinary Friday.

Oh, hey, what is UP with Sandra Day O’Connor retiring? I know she’s 75 and everything, but doesn’t she realize the political climate we live in? Doesn’t she realize that at least one more justice may give up the fight in the very near future? Is she TRYING to encourage the current government to become the Iran of the West? I know it’s not her fault that the list of nominees to replace her is grim. But man, oh, man. It kind of feels like a bad, women’s-rights-removing stink is in the air.