and now let’s hear about your parting gifts

where’s my skinny mic?
could also use a Vanna
to fold my laundry

You know the game show on NPR, Wait, Wait Don’t Tell Me? I play a similar game everyday. it’s called "Wait, Wait, I’m Not Done Yet." Only my version doesn’t involve answering questions about funny news stories, or trying to best a panel of whip-smart people. It involves answering questions about my own sanity, and trying to best whip-smart children.

During this morning’s episode of "Wait, Wait, I’m Not Done Yet" I found my face being sat on by a very full diaper. The owner of said diaper was balancing precariously on my nose and squealing "baby! baby! baby! baby! shoes! shoes! shoes! shoes!"

"Wait, wait," I said groggily, struggling against freeing myself from a wonderful dream of pie and the beach, "I’m not done yet."

Once awake, dressed and downstairs, I found myself accosted by the wee-er one once again. "Shoes!" she demanded accusingly, as if it is my goal in life to keep her from wearing shoes every moment of every day. She thrust a pair of tiny sneakers at me and proceeded to scream when I tried to get her to sit down to put them on. She wanted to stand and point her little toes at me while I struggled to act as her farrier. So she hollered when I grabbed her, sat her in my lap and tried to get her shoes on as quickly as I could.

One shoe on, the other off, she scampered away, still squealing about the injustices of not only NOT having on both shoes, but in having her plan to get the shoes on thwarted.

"Wait, wait!" I shouted after her, grasping at a dangling velcro strap. "I’m not done yet!"

Have I mentioned there are no cash prizes for this game?

Eating has the same outcome, as does napping. Though a lot of times the game switches and becomes "Wait, wait, you’re not done yet." It’s a wily charade.

I can see her right now, twisting and turning, trying to wake up from her nap. The games have collided: "Wait, wait, you’re not done yet!" I whisper to her, hoping she’l get a few more minutes of sleep. Then I look at my cup of still warm tea and think, "Wait, Wait, I’m not done yet!" Boy it would nice to finish a whole cup of tea while it’s still warm.

You know, it’s fun and everything, but I don’t think anyone wins this game. The NPR one is WAY better.

and this is what happens when I navel-gaze

silence not golden
silence happens to be green
green and quite happy

note to self: do not leave children unattended.

note to everyone else: sorry the video attacks the column over there. I’m too lazy harried to fix it.

one more note: if you listen carefully you can hear her delightful, crazy-making squeaky shoes.

is it the time of year?

feel introspective
some x-treme navel gazing
makes me misty-eyed

I’m not sure if it’s the fact that it’s almost the end of the year, or that it’s cold outside, or what, but something has gotten into me. I’m feeling so reflective and emotional lately. And it’s not just the past year that I’m reminiscing about – I can hardly even remember this past year. It’s the middling past that’s sneaking up on me.

I’m just now realizing that some of the momentous occasions in my life – things that really focused me or scared me or otherwise affected me for good or evil – didn’t happen "a few years ago" like I think they did. They happened 7, 8, 10 years ago. Can I be that old? Can time be going by this fast?

It was almost 8 years ago when I had the trifecta of a tortuous job, miscarriage, and general "what am I doing with my life" breakdown. Eight years! The same amount of time you spend in high school and college, spent OUT of school, learning different kinds of lessons, failing other kinds of tests, winning new battles, finding new friends, discovering who I am and whether or not that matches who I want to be…. eight years.

I am stunned it’s been that long. Eight years and I still feel fondly bitter over that horrible job and how I just walked in one day and quit, just like that. I still feel my heart race when I think of the ER trip when everything was spinning out of control and my pregnancy was lost. I still dream of the frantic maxing out of credit cards to fly to Sedona for my best friend’s wedding and then Hawaii, so I could spend a month mooching, baking in the sun, eating garlic shrimp and waiting for my floundering sad feelings to morph into excitement for the future.

How could it have been that long ago when it feels so close? How can I remember it all so clearly and yet forget whether or not I shut the garage door this morning?

I blame this all on the Whataburger Christmas commercial I saw last night. Stupid heartstring tugging, early-2000-era TV commercials.

I have officially become Chevy Chase, when he’s trapped in the attic during National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. All I need is a musty mink stole and something to randomly hit me on the head.


I solved the puzzle
please don’t laugh at me like that
my brain is mushy

I solved the LA Times Tuesday crossword puzzle in 19 minutes and 33 seconds! (Why the LA Times? It’s free. You have to pay for the NYT one. Stinkers.)

Granted, most people could probably solve it in about 3 minutes, but I don’t care. I’m very proud of myself. Good job, self!

It’s amazing what you can accomplish when you’re procrastinating.

Answer: Phffffft Question: What sound does my empty wallet make?

went out and about
less than two hours of errands
out three hundred bucks

Man. Stuff is expensive these days, isn’t it? A trip to the tax office to get my car’s registration renewed, and a stop at the gas station to fill up the trusty station wagon and BAM, there goes a hundred bucks.

Then, a quick in and out visit to the grocery store so that the wee one doesn’t have to use graham crackers for bread in his lunch tomorrow, grab some other staples, fill a prescription and BAM, almost $200… poof! Holy crap!

This is when it becomes of utmost importance for me to curb my online shopping habit. Two album downloads in two days – that’s a 72-count box of diapers right there. (Though listening to Amy Winehouse sing "Fuck Me Pumps" is kind of worth running out of diapers.)

You think Santa will let me borrow a flying reindeer or two? It would totally save me some gas money, and as an extra added benefit I’d be the most popular mom picking her kid up from school (suck it big-boobed Barbie mom!).

Is it wrong?

putting your skills to the test
while going in debt

Is it wrong that I have my credit card number memorized? I can now complete an online transaction – security code requirement fulfilled, as well – without even knowing where my wallet is.

broke. broke. broke.

But is having a sale!


a cacophany
dressing up for turkey day
caused complications

How is your turkey?










I hope your Thanksgiving was just as peaceful as ours.

pardon me for this





I’ve taken to just puttering around the house in a mindless, exhausted funk, muttering obscenities under my breath while the wee-er screams and refuses to sleep.

[background noise] AHHHHHH! WAAAHHHHH! Shoes! Water! Baby! Shoes! AHHHHHH! WAAAHHH!
[me, in kitchen, talking to myself under my breath, like Gollum] Tea. Tea is what I need. 
[in quieter voice] Fucking tea cup, why are you so high up in the cabinet?
[regular muttering] Tea bag. Find tea bag.
[background noise] AHHHHHH! WAAAHHHHH! Shoes! Water! Baby! Shoes! AHHHHHH! WAAAHHH!
[in quieter voice] Cocksucker floor mat always tripping me.
[regular voice] How can we be out of honey? I just bought honey. Oh, here it is.
[in quieter voice] Stupid asshole honey making my fingers sticky.
[background noise] AHHHHHH! WAAAHHHHH! Shoes! Water! Baby! Shoes! AHHHHHH! WAAAHHH!
[regular voice] A clean spoon. Must stir tea.
[in quieter voice] Fucking dirty dishes.
[regular voice] Maybe some chocolate would be nice.
[background noise] AHHHHHH! WAAAHHHHH! Shoes! Water! Baby! Shoes! AHHHHHH! WAAAHHH!
[in quieter voice] Goddamned asshole wrappers so hard to open. So fucking noisy.
[regular voice] What was I doing again?
[background noise] AHHHHHH! WAAAHHHHH! Shoes! Water! Baby! Shoes! AHHHHHH! WAAAHHH!
[in quieter voice] Fucking cheap chocolate.

etc. and so forth.

Babies kind of suck sometimes.

why is my eye twitching?

thank you, officer
for highlighting irony
in my fish bowl life

Well, it wasn’t really ironic. I wasn’t speeding to race an asshole. I wasn’t trying to out road rage another station wagon driver. I was just speeding. Like I do. And so I got a ticket.

Still, though, it feels a little suspicious, what with the blog talk recently about bad drivers and whatnot. I can’t help but feel like the fates are messing with me just a little bit.

Also, my husband got a whopper of a ticket (three citations!) a few
weeks ago and I was griping at him about it. I got two (stupid expired
registration. stupid me for not updating it). So now I have egg on my face and we have matching
court dates for Christmas. Just what I always wanted!

It also figures that this is one of the few times the wee-er one was not howling in the backseat. If she had been screaming, would I have gotten off with a warning? If I had been cleverer with my excuse (uh, was it not 70 mph right there?) would I have been blessed with a warning? Alas. We’ll never know.

Is it wrong that I’m seriously thinking about doing defensive driving the old-fashioned way, instead of on the computer? That way I get out of the house for a little alone time. It’s kind of like looking forward to a dentist appointment. Sad, but true. These are things they never tell you when you have a baby…

Still makes my eye twitch, though.