Happiness Is . . .

I know I can be annoyingly upbeat. But that's just who I am.

There are a lot of things that make me happy - they would make most people happy.

Like:

• Finding money


• Getting a call from a friend you haven't talked to in awhile


• Sunshine


• A neighbor offering to help with some kind of repair or project


• Hearing that something you did out of pure friendship made another person cry with happiness.


• Hanging out with good friends

Then, there are the oddball things that probably only make me happy.

Such as:

• Having an entire shelf in one kitchen cabinet dedicated solely for the storage of rolls of paper towels.
  
  Yes, I can buy the eight pack of Bounty and not have to stash one or two here, there and everywhere. I have one shelf and that's where all the rolls go. I love it!



• Mechanical pencils.
  
  First of all, they never need to be sharpened. It's just a bummer when the last of the lead falls out and you shake the pencil and hear nothing. I've always got spare lead with me, though.
  
  Second of all, they keep you flexible and neat. No scribble, scrabble here.
  
  Need to change an appointment? No problem, just erase and write it on another date. Honestly, I'm happier changing an appointment if I've written it in pencil because my planner stays neat. I get irritated if I have to make a messy scribble - it looks so unprofessional.



• The days in spring when the temperature is consistently above 65 degrees.
  
  This isn't because I can shed my sweaters and coats. It's not because the trees will bud and flowers will bloom.
  
  No, this is because I can haul out the sandals and ditch the socks until October. Not only do I dislike wearing socks, but it's one less person I have to find socks for in the morning. Yay!



• My bird "cat-calling" me.
  
  It was one of the first "songs" George learned. It's so nice to walk into the room and hear him "Wert Whihrl" at me.
  
  I guess I'm sexy because I talk to him and buy him food. Whatever. I'll take it.



• Shiny pennies.
  
  A shiny penny is like a touch of sunshine in your hand - even on the cloudiest days.



• Watching my children sleep.
  
  Don't get me wrong, I like them when they're awake too (for the most part).
  
  However, they are so angelic with their eyes closed and their lips slightly parted. I love the softness of their breathing and the sense of calm that surrounds them.

I know this is only somewhat random. It's not like it all just spilled out of my head in a rush this morning. But there's really only a very thin thread concerning my weird feeling of happiness so I'm calling it acceptable for Random Tuesday Thoughts.

Many others have random-er, fun thoughts so you should pop in at Keely's place by clicking this magical purple button.

Silver Lining:

1. It's the little things in life that make real and lasting happiness. It's good to remember what they are and thank God for our blessings.


2. I played Bunco last night and didn't write anything on the back of my scorecard. All the girls knew they were "safe" from becoming a blog subject. However, I really feel the need to mention them here (as part of that whole hanging out with friends and happiness thing) and give any of my new readers links to the fun Bunco posts of the past. Click here and enjoy!

PS - Here's another super funny post. It wasn't about Bunco, but it was written based on my "scorecard" notes.

From Bed Head to Beautiful in 30 Minutes

Every morning I wake up with a plan.

• Shower - 5 minutes.


• Dry off and moisturize all over - 3 minutes.


• Apply make up - 7 minutes.


• Brush teeth - 2 minutes


• Get dressed - 5 minutes


• Dry & style hair - 7 minutes


• Put on jewelry & shoes - 1 minute

Ta da! I'm gorgeous in 30 minutes!

Does this plan ever actually pan out?

Nope.

Why not?

Let's break it down.

The shower. As long as I don't shave my legs, I could, maybe, if I moved with super speed, get in and out in five minutes. Shaving is what gets me. Sure, I wear pants to work, but let's hope I don't need to change into Capri's or shorts, or (gasp!) a bathing suit later.

And that super speed ain't happening without a cup of coffee. I haven't built any time into the plan for stumbling down to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, let alone the time it takes to actually make a pot.

Drying off & moisturizing all over? I can save time here because my lotion never seems to be in my bathroom so I just skip it.

Apply makeup. I'm not sure if this takes seven minutes or not.

I've never timed it really. Nor have I ever started my make up and finished it without interruption.

This is about the time my kids start waking up and Hubby realizes he's getting out of the shower, but doesn't have any underwear. I have to go down to the laundry room and find a clean pair for him and then figure out what the girls are going to wear.

For whatever reason, it is just impossible to find matching socks for Stinkles. I just had to buy her the socks with pink or blue or purple or green toes and a matching band at the ankle. Cupie has all the same socks - purple toes with no color band at the ankle. Easy peasy - find two socks and they go together.

Not Stinkles' socks.

Nope.

You gotta dig for a match.

So I sit down on the laundry room floor and look for matching Stinkles socks. Hubby's calling for his underwear so I bring that to him and then back to the laundry room for the Great Sock Hunt.

Da, da-da-dahhhhhhhhhhh!

MATCHING STINKLES' SOCKS!

While the kids are busy getting dressed, I finish my make up.

But before I can brush my teeth, Hubby now needs socks as well. He can find his own pants & shirt from the railing outside the laundry room. Oh, lucky me.

Of course, every pair of Hubby's socks are different patterns. To make things even harder is he has several pair that are similar in style but different in color. So there is the constant, "Is this navy blue or black?" comparison going on.

Brushing my teeth. I know there is argument by some that it doesn't really take two minutes to brush your teeth, but it does for me. My mouth just can't be clean until my tooth brush starts the staccato at the two minute mark. It's one area of my life where I can be quite anal - my teeth. That last sentence has a bit of irony to it, doesn't it?

Getting dressed. It doesn't take all that long, but the application of wrinkle releaser takes a bit. You have to spray, then stretch, then smooth and repeat until the clothes don't look like they just came out of a laundry basket. Heaven forbid, I climb over the piles of laundry to get out the ironing board and iron.

Drying and styling my hair. This usually takes more than seven minutes due to a couple of factors.

First, whether or not the kids have finished lolly-gagging and gotten dressed. If they are done getting dressed, they need help with their hair and teeth. Cupie is six and I know she can at least brush her hair and teeth (not with the same brush), but I don't trust her to do it with out a reminder. Stinkles is only four, and well, that's just not old enough to do it well enough so we have to help her.

Secondly, it depends on how long it's been since I had a hair cut. If it was somewhat recently and the stars align on the kids getting dressed factor, seven minutes is about right. If it's been more than a month, it takes five minutes just to dry my hair. It's not all that long, just super thick. If I wait too long to get it cut, I start getting triangle head like that chick in the Dilbert cartoons. That's some thick hair.

Jewelry. By the time all that is finished, I have to figure out what jewelry I'm wearing. I've become a total jewelry whore so this is a big decision daily.

I like the big rings and I'm really bummed out if I can't make one go with an outfit.

Oh my gosh, you mean the only ring I have to wear with this is the red cocktail ring?

Never mind that six months ago, that ring (with a 1/2 inch center stone) seemed huge. Now, if the ring doesn't partially cover the fingers on either side of the one actually wearing the ring, it's not big enough.

Seriously, the one I'm wearing right now is about 1 1/2 inches in diameter.

Whew! That's what it takes to get as gorgeous as me every day.

Silver Lining:

1. As I was writing this I came up with a plan to sort the "missing a match" socks. I'm going to install a clothes line and pin up all the socks that are missing their matches. Then, I can scan the line each time instead of sifting through a pile. I feel very brilliant right now.


2. I've been inspired to do some laundry and actually put it away. But it's a good three hours before I get home to do that and I'm thinking that I won't be inspired anymore when that happens. C'est la Vie.

PS - I'm not really that conceited - I don't consider myself gorgeous by any stretch of the word. But dang, after all that work every morning, you'd think I'd be approaching it . . .

To Be Cool, Skip The Flip-Flops

We went to a visitation for one of Hubby's co-worker's father. I have a rule. You wear a tie to funerals & weddings. Beyond that, I can be somewhat lenient.

Hubby has one white shirt, which is reserved solely for funerals & job interviews. Some may say that's one in the same, but anywho. . .

A white shirt always looks better when an undershirt is worn. Since there weren't any short sleeved undershirts clean, a "wife beater" was worn.

Now, I need to paint you a picture. I have to paint it because it's too late, he already changed.

Imagine in front of you, a brown-eyed, blond looking really sharp in his crisp white shirt, tie, pleated charcoal slacks, black socks, & shiny black shoes. When he smiles, there's even a little twinkle.

As soon as we got home, he went upstairs to change into something cooler. Cooler as in temperature, not as in well-dressed.

Now, I need to paint you a new picture. I need to paint this one because Hubby wouldn't let me take one with a camera.

He came downstairs in the wife-beater, jean shorts (with the fly unzipped), his black socks and flip flops.

I looked at him with complete & utter disbelief. Cupie was looking at him funny too.

"You know Dad, those flip-flops just don't go."

Great job pointing that out Sweety. You're right, the flip-flops are the only thing not making that outfit.

Silver Lining:

1. We were indoors and the blinds were closed.


2. He's cooking dinner right now. As long as I don't have to cook, I guess he can wear whatever he wants.

Setting The Bar

I'm not Super-Mom.

I'm not even Above-Average-Mom.

I'm a pretty much just Mom.

You could look at as though I'm "keeping it real" for my kids. They need to know that having a family, a home, and a job also means that they have to forgo home-cooked, four-course meals and a spot-free household existence.

It became abundantly clear how far from "spot-free" my home had become based on Stinkle's reaction to cleaning her room yesterday.

Her room was a disaster area. Stuffed animals, barrettes, Barbies, Barbie accessories, baby dolls, McDonald's toys, scraps of at least five sheets of green construction paper, magnets, Littlest Pet Shop stuff, and much more littered her bedroom floor.

It's not a big room - only 11X10 and that might be generous. So it doesn't take much of a mess to make it look much, much smaller.

This poor child also has a massive case of second child syndrome:

• She has the smallest of the bedrooms with the smallest closet.
• Her bed is the actually the trundle from under Cupie's Captains bed.
• The floor lamp used to be Cupie's but it didn't fit the new decor when we moved into our current house so Stinkles inherited it.
• The dresser was originally Cupie's too, but Cupie got a new one when Stinkles was born so it's technically a hand-me-down too.

Cupie has a walk-in closet that we were able to add storage shelves to. She has 25 feet of space to store games, those doll make-up heads, Pixos, books, Barbie stuff, etc. Stinkles has none.

That's one reason her room is a mess. We'd provided her no means of organizing it nor had we shown her how.

So we were at Home Depot this weekend. And you know as soon as we walked in, the kids had to go to the bathroom.

What's with kids and needing to go to the bathroom at every store we visit?

We were there to get a couple of things that sold at the front of the store. Now, I had to traipse all the way to the back of the store to find the bathrooms. Said Traipsing took me through the Closetmaid storage stuff isle.

Whaaaaaaaaaaah. A magical glow floated over the racks of brackets & wire shelving.

I started guesstimating the size of Stinkles closet.

Holy crap!

It was going to cost us at least $250 to do her closet. The angel choir ceased abruptly.

Now, I know you can do a 34"X47" (we measured when we got home) for less than $250, but I wanted the "track" system so we could screw this stuff into the wall once and still have flexibility to change the height of the shelves later. Trying to cover up the bullet sized holes from wall anchors is a pain in the rump.

We ultimately decided to buy the materials for part of her closet. At least she would get some storage.

Stinkles was pretty excited about getting some shelves in her closet and cleaning up her room. Don't you just love this age? She was excited about cleaning!

So I started moving stuff around in her closet. Like, I stacked the tubs of hand-me-down clothes on one side. I moved the boxes of hand-me-down shoes off the shelf already in the closet to the top of the tubs. Thankfully, the wall was there to prevent the fall of the leaning tower of hand-me-downs.

In the process, I found evidence of good intentions. There were three collapsible canvas cubes to match the colors of her room. Stinkles helped decide what went into each one.

I think I saw that on Oprah or read it in one of those perfect parent type of magazines - let the kids help make the decision and maybe they'll stick with it. I thought if she helped decide what went in the cubes, the likelihood of those items making it back into the cubes would increase.

Stay tuned, we'll see if that worked.

Believe it or not, the shelving went up uneventfully.

How does that happen to me?

I suppose I shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. I'll just shut-up and put a check in the success column.

Anywho, Hubby took the kids to Wally-world for a new camera (stay tuned for that saga) and I finished up Stinkle's closet & room cleaning.

When she got home, Stinkles ran to her room. By the time I made my way up, she was at the top of the stairs, jumping up and down with her arms up in the air. She looked like she had just won the lottery.

I got a huge hug and kiss.

I asked her, "Do you like what Mommy did in your room?"

She let go, stepped back, and vigorously nodded her head. Then she said, "Now let's go look at the closet!"

She was that excited about her room being clean - she hadn't even looked at the closet yet!

You know you're doing something wrong when your child thinks that a clean room is cause for celebration.

Or maybe I've done it right by setting the bar pretty darn low.

Silver Lining:

1. There was no stepping on Barbie boots or any other foot puncturing item when sneaking in for one last kiss before I went to be last night.
2. The tables have been turned on Cupie. Stinkles informed her that her room is a "daster". And it spurred a mini cleaning spree by Cupie. Mini as in, she made her bed - woo, who!
3. Stinkles got a small taste of victory. We did something just for her - she was the sole focus of this project and she didn't have to share it with her sister. I'm sure she put an imaginary check in the success column too.

Ten Things About Me

Kat over at Three Bedroom Bungalow participated in a meme in which she answered 10 questions about herself. I needed an idea for a post, so I'm totally ripping it off.

I'm not really ripping anyone off - she said anyone could participate. I just felt like sounding like a bad-a$$.

*snort*

Yah, Pollyanna, the bad-a$$.

NOT!

Anywho, here's the ten questions and my answers:

1. Are you a meticulous planner?
   
   A planner, yes. A follow thru-er, no. I make all kinds of plans for things I'd like to do and there are usually lists, but actually getting them done is another thing. I work better (albeit b*tchier) under pressure. Give me a goal and a deadline and I'll make it, just don't expect weekly progress reports.



2. Do you wear make-up? If so, how much and how often?
   
   Heck, yah! I don't leave the house without mascara and lip gloss at a bare minimum.
   
   Don't tell me you don't have time to slap on some mascara - it just takes a few flicks of Mary Kay's Ultimate Mascara to open your eyes up. Lip gloss you can apply while walking to the car.
   
   I actually do the whole gamut daily - foundation, powder, eye shadow, eye liner, mascara, blush, lips.
   
   More important than the make up is the skin care routine. As long as you cleanse, apply a sunscreen, and moisturize, most women don't need a lot of make up. Make up makes you look good in five minutes, a good skin care routine makes you look good five, ten, fifteen years from now.
   
   Hopefully, you have been guilted into calling your Mary Kay Consultant to replenish your skincare products. If you don't already have one, contact my gal (click here) - she's AWESOME!



3. What, if anything, do you wear to bed?
   
   I wear jammies. But they have to match. I'm not a pull-out-whatever-top-and-bottom-you-can-find kind of gal. Oh, and no underwear - they just get all bunched up and uncomfortable at night.



4. Look over your right shoulder, what do you see?
   
   A picture of each of my girls and of Hubby and me on our wedding day. Plain black frames hanging from red satin ribbon.
   
   Hmmmmmm, I love my family.



5. If you had to take one random item to an interview to help describe yourself, what would it be?
   
   Easiest question on the list!
   
   A scrap of silver fabric. No matter how down I may get, I can always pick myself up again.
   
   I firmly believe my motto: There is always a silver lining.
   
   I'm not one to give up. I may abandon projects or take a turn in another direction for one reason or another, but I don't simply give up.



6. What film would you have like a starring role in?
   
   Say Anything. Lloyd Dobbler, need I say more?



7. Jimmy Stewart or Cary Grant?
   
   Neither. See #6 above.
   
   Now, if you had given me the choice of John Cusack and Chris O'Donnell, I would have had major problem. They're both on the laminated list.



8. Do you swear in front of children?
   
   Yes. And I always do the "oops" with my fingers over my mouth. I'm such a dork!



9. Do you sew or knit or do any other "womanly" craft?
   
   Is complaining about the fact that my house is never clean considered a "womanly" craft? How about nagging my family to do stuff? Hubby says I have these two down to an art form. Art implies craft, does it not?
   
   Seriously, I can sew straight lines. I made the curtains in my dining room & kitchen & I actually get compliments on them.
   
   I can also crochet and knit. Again, this is a straight line kind of thing, like scarves and blankets. Don't ask me to make you anything to wear.
   
   Honestly, don't ask me to make you anything because I'm too busy complaining about my house and nagging my family to get around to doing something for someone else.



10. Twitter or Facebook?
    
    Facebook. I've never heard of anyone farming on Twitter so I don't go there.

Silver Lining:

1. I pounded out a post in 20 minutes.


2. Anyone else who needs an idea for today, can take this on. Leave me a comment if you do, so I can stop by and check it out.

There Isn't A Band-Aid Big Enough

As a parent, I want to shield my children from the ugly in the world.

Yesterday, I failed.

Last Thursday, Cupie came home all excited. She and some "friends" from daycare were going to perform a concert on Monday. She needed a microphone, a purse, sunglasses, and a scarf. Oh yah, and a PINK outfit.

That's a quick list - she was back from the playroom with everything but the outfit in about five minutes.

She trounced up to her room picked out a pink skirt and a striped shirt and put them in reserve for Monday.

All weekend she talked about this concert on Monday. They had dance moves and everything.

On Monday morning she bounced out of bed and got ready real quick. Quite a feat because she normally has to be reminded several times to get dressed.

To brush her hair.

To brush her teeth.

To find her shoes. Yada, yada, yada.

When I asked how the concert went Monday evening, she said the "ringleader" was sick so they were putting it off until Wednesday. She asked me to wash her outfit so she could wear it again. She had several pink articles of clothing, but this was her "concert" outfit.

Wednesday morning was a repeat of Monday.

Wednesday evening was not.

I asked her about the concert and she just started sobbing.

The "ringleader" decided there were too many girls in the group and one, ONE, had to be voted out. Everyone voted out Cupie.

Cupie was seriously sobbing.

Not tears of disappointment.

SOBBING.

Disappointment, hurt, & confusion don't even begin to describe how she felt.

Even writing this, I feel pain for my daughter and it brings tears to my eyes because I remember what it was like. I wasn't the most popular kid growing up. In fact, I could be quite shy. (Shut up all of you who actually know me - I grew up and found my voice.)

Cupie is so outgoing, charismatic, and fun. I didn't think she would endure the growing pains I did. Naive, I know.

Silver Lining:

1. Kids are resilient. She seems fine today. But I can't help wondering if this is "that one time" that keeps coming back to haunt her as she grows up.


2. I didn't see the "ringleader" this morning. She's lucky. I might not have been able to hold back from wringing her neck.


3. Even a "Pollyanna" can have an off day - see, I'm not perfect :)

I.C.E. Panties

I was searching through the laundry this morning for a clean pair of underwear for myself.

Some people's dryers eat socks. Mine, apparently, eats underwear.

I don't know what the deal is, but it seems like I have to do laundry every three days because I'M out of clean underwear.

So I'm picking through the laundry, tossing aside the kids t-shirts, thinking to myself, "Well, at least my underwear is smaller than their shirts. That will make it easier to sort out the clothing types."

It would be way cool if this realization came to me because I was going through some awesome weight loss diet. But alas, no. The kids have just gotten bigger. Funny how that happens; kids get bigger. Weird.

Anywho. All I kept finding were the "If I can't find anything else, I'll wear these" pair.

Ladies, you know the ones.

They aren't comfortable because they:

• ride up


• cut in


• fall down


• roll over


• all of the above and then some

But you hold on to them because days like today happen!

My I.C.E. (in case of emergency) panties SUCK!

They are so bad, I actually considered wearing a pair of Hubby's tighty-whities.

Too weird.

Pull a pair out of the dirty laundry?

EWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!

Going without?

I. Just. Can't.

So I will sit here all day in utter discomfort.

Where is the laundry fairy when you need her?

Silver Lining:

1. I will be shopping at lunch today.


2. One hour and counting.

PS - Sadly, I already had "laundry" and "underwear" as labels for previous posts so they both auto populated as I was typing them. *sigh*

Lettin' Loose

I can let loose. Especially when I'm upset about something.

I wouldn't go so far as to say I can "cuss like a sailor", but I've got a mouth on me.

Can't find my keys?

I always put them on the d@mn hook. If he took my . . . Oh, I swear. #*%&! I GOTTA GO! FOR HEAVENS SAKE, WHERE THE H*LL ARE MY KEYS? Crap, here they are. Where's my #*%&ing purse?

I dropped an egg on the floor?

F*ckity, #*%&, #*%&, #*%&!

There's less money in the checking account than I expected?

Where the h*ll are we going to make this up? SH!T, this s*cks!

If I'm not upset, I'm really good at substituting other words:

Shoot
Gosh Darn
Fiddlesticks

I'm sure you all can figure out what those words are substituting. We all have our own substitutions, don't we?

My friend Demi has a substitution too.

We were in the car yesterday discussing the pending refinance of her house. When I told her an appraisal could cost around $200 - $250, she said, "Oh, swear-word!"

Seriously.

That's not me substituting for her, she actually substituted a swear word by saying, "swear-word."

Silver Lining:

1. Turns out the cost of the appraisal was already included in the amount she was paying the mortgage broker so it wasn't over & above what she was expecting.


2. Sorry for the potty mouth post. I'll try to restrain my fingers from only uttering words no more offensive than "crap" from now on.

Elbow Worm?

Within every culture there are expressions that are understood by the members of that culture, but make no sense to an outsider.

For instance:

• Having a melt down


• Getting the short end of the stick


• Brown-noser


• I've got a song stuck in my head

Most adults know what these phrases mean. You could call adulthood a "culture" right?

Perhaps not, but for this blog, we're going to say it is.

None of those phases are to be taken literally. As cultured adults, we know this.

If not, let me just clue you in: a brown-noser is not someone with a brown nose. It's someone who has been kissing someone else's a$$ for so long, their nose should be stained with poop.

As cultured adults, we may shorten the "I've got a song stuck in my head" to "I've got an ear worm".

You know those songs that just repeat in your head over and over.

All. Day. Long.

That song in the Six Flags commercials. The Macarena. Lady Gaga's Poker Face. You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift.

That last one has been really sticking with my children. Distressingly so with my four year old.

She got very upset yesterday and wanted us to stop singing it, "Because it was stuck in my arm!"

For the pre-K culture, remembering that you hear things in your head (where your ears are) and not your arm (where your elbow is) is tough. Thank goodness the song wasn't stuck in her butt!

Silver Lining:

1. She's super cute when she stands on the stool in front of the bathroom mirror singing, "She wears short skirts, I wear T-shirts, she's chear captain & I'm on the bleachers . . ."


2. It's a cute song and not something obnoxious like the song in the Six Flags commercial.

News

In my mind, "News" means that something is basically NEW information. Information that isn't necessarily common knowledge.

Based on my "official" source (dictionary.com), I'd say I'm right on track with this definition.

news   /nuz, nyuz/ –noun ( usually used with a singular verb )

1. a report of a recent event; intelligence; information.


2. the presentation of a report on recent or new events in a newspaper or other periodical or on radio or television.


3. such reports taken collectively; information reported.


4. a person, thing, or event considered as a choice subject for journalistic treatment; newsworthy material. Compare copy ( def. 5 ).


5. newspaper.


6. newscast.

So I'd like to know who thought it was newsworthy to report this:


Really?

Voters Unhappy?

Only the people living under a rock are going to say, "Holy Cr@p! I'm going into shock! How can this be?"

Voters have been unhappy for well over a year now. This is in no way, shape or form NEWS!

Silver Lining:

1. You all should be pleased this is as far as Pollyanna is willing to step into politics. I'd have to put on my witch Halloween costume year round otherwise.


2. I haven't been living under a rock (or a cave) and I occassionally take off the rose colored glasses so I didn't die of a heart attack when I read that headline. You all will be graced with my pressence and or oddball stories for awhile longer :)

Sixth Dear So and So Letters

It's Friday!

I've got a few things I need to get off my chest so I can have a good weekend. So I've written a few letters. I think you may enjoy some of my moments of misery, confusion, and dingy-ness.

Dear Zynga,

Why is Farmville so addicting????? Seriously, I looked back and my blogging totally stopped when I started playing. Who knew the "thrill" of collecting eggs, lost pets, and coins would be so time consuming? I miss writing . . .

Re-balanced blogger,
Pollyanna

Dear Weed-gods,

Please stop visiting my yard. You have the freedom to do whatever you want in the empty lots next to our house, isn't that enough? Really, you all do not need my measly yard and landscape beds as a playground.

Wishing to be weed free,
P.

Dear Mulch-gods,

You are more than welcome to visit. I could really use you to choke out the invading weeds. Please feel free to sprawl out all amongst the bushes & flowers.

Wishing for the time, money & energy to do it myself,
Polly

Dear Buffet Concert Goers,

Hey! You know those guys with the orange vests and flags in the parking lot? Yah, the ones in BLAZE, CAN'T-MISS-IT ORANGE? They were showing you where to park. They weren't putting on a half-time flag show. There were no sequins involved. There was no music and there certainly wasn't any coordination of movement.

People, don't ignore the parking attendants and park where ever you want. You aren't that important. If you were you should have paid for VIP parking.

Glad I'm Not A Parking Attendant,
Parrothead Pollyanna

Dear Jimmy Buffett,

You ROCK! Thirty years and counting!

See You Next Year,
Me

Dear Mother Nature,

Did you really have to choose the moment I ran out to the garage to start a deluge of rain?

I was only going to run out and run back in. I was expecting to come inside with a few rain drops in my hair, not as a sopping mess with no towel in sight.

I know I've written you a letter at least one other time about the weather, and I never got a response. That's poor customer service. Maybe I should just take over for the Pleasantville area.

Wet,
Pollyanna

Dear Self (again),

Don't wear Crocs in the rain. You will slip & fall on a smooth surface. Such as a garage floor.

A Little Ache-y,
Me

Dear God,

Thank you for the "moment" last night when my four year old actually saw the big dipper in the sky. I know sometimes she just plays along and says she sees something, but I knew she saw it last night when the level of excitement in her voice rose and she continually pointed at it.

Life is good,
Me


There are others out there who share my thoughts - I'm sure of it. Why don't we all head over to Kat's place to see who else is writing letters this week?

Silver Lining:

1. George has a sparkly clean cage. I cleaned EVERYTHING! He was so confused when I was all done (because I rearranged the "furniture") that he almost didn't want to get back in.


2. After Hubby drilled a little hole for me, he didn't even tease me about the drill. I knew there was a reason I keep him around. XOXOXO to Hubby.


3. Apparently, I'll live after my little rain run. I eventually dried out. And my arm doesn't really hurt from the fall anymore

Got Wood?

So, Sissy & I drove all the way up to Wisconsin last week (hence the week-long absence) to help Mom get her house ready to sell.

There was much to do - stain a fence, spread mulch, clean a garage, move large stuff into the garage, paint a bedroom, general staging, etc.

All this cleaning/moving resulted in several pieces of wood. Mom pulled out the trusty saw and saw horses, cut them up into manageable, carriable pieces. Since it was trash day and the trash truck hadn't been by, we hauled them to the curb.

Not the curb at the end of the driveway mind you. No, they had to be hauled to the end of the block, and she lives on the "loooooooooong" side of the block. Mom's street was tore up for complete re-paving. (Yeah, we totally had to haul all our luggage and what-not that far too.)

After two or three trips, it was all down there, kind of hanging into the street a bit. Definitely taking up a preemo parking space right at the corner.

We worked all day in the 90 degree heat, cleaned ourselves up and headed out for the evening.

We walked aaaaaallllllll the way down to the car.

The trash was gone.

The recycling was gone.

The wood was not gone.

We left anyway.

When we got back - around 9:30 - the wood was still sitting there. Not even the rubbish scavengers were interested.

We made our way aaaaaallllll the way back to the house. After we got inside, my mom was just beside herself fidgeting.

We really should go get that wood. It's taking up a space where someone could park. I don't want anyone getting upset at me.

[Eye roll]

Mom, I don't think anyone knows you left the wood down there. We can just go get it tomorrow if it's still there.

No, someone might know I put it down there. And there isn't a lot of parking. And I'm just not going to sleep tonight knowing . . .

[Eye roll]

I looked outside.

It was dark.

No one was around.

No one was going to see us going down to get the wood. No one would know my mother left the wood down there if we went and got it tonight. If we waited until morning, we would definitely be seen and anyone who may have gotten upset about the wood taking up a perfectly good parking space would know it was her. Blah, blah, blah.

[Sigh]

Fine, let's go get it.

There was a lot of wood so we decided to take the wheelbarrow to haul it back. My mom's house is over 60 years old and I swear so is the wheelbarrow we were using. It very well could be, it used to be my grandfather's and he died almost 20 years ago. So it creaks and groans even when it's empty.

Every bump in the sidewalk (and there are many because it may also be 60 years old) makes the wheelbarrow jump. When it lands it makes that "thunder" noise. You know the sound, the one every kid loves to make it by shaking a found piece of sheet metal. It's friggin' loud!

Here we are, in the cloak of darkness, taking the wheelbarrow aaaaaalllllll the way down to the corner to pick up the wood.

Gah-gong.

Gah-gong.

Gah-gong.

For crying out loud. Get out the metal trashcan lids, pots and pans and some wooden spoons. We could have had an old fashioned parade! The neighbors would be thrilled!

So much for going quietly.

As we approached the end of the street, I noticed a beacon of light showing us the way.

No it wasn't the moon.

It was a street light.

Shining right down on the pile of wood.

So much for our cloak of darkness too.

Silver Lining:

1. On the way back, because there was some weight in the wheelbarrow, it didn't make as much noise.


2. We only had to make two trips to get all the wood back to the house. Since the wheelbarrow was so noisy, I didn't even bother taking the wood out, I just dumped it (with a loud clatter) into a pile on the driveway.


3. We are only aware of one neighbor witnessing our "stealthiness" - they just happened to get home later than we did, like while we were retrieving our contraband wood.


4. Mom's house was in pretty good shape when we left. Hopefully, she'll have the house sold and be moved down near us by Halloween.

Magic Machines

Water.

Very important for life.

Very important for cleaning too.

There are these nifty things in my house that use water for cleaning. Machines you may call them.

There is one that magically cleans clothes. You put the clothes in. You add some soap to the dispenser (the area that says "soap"). Press a button.

Less than an hour later, it's magic. The clothes are clean and ready for the dryer.

There is another machine that magically cleans dishes. You put the dishes in. You add some soap to the dispenser (where it says "soap"). Press a button.

More magic happens in this machine. When it stops the dishes are clean.

It's amazing.

Why is it that I'm the only person in my house seems to be capable of using these machines? There are only three steps to operate either one of them.

I'm going out of town - God help the fam.

Silver Lining:

1. I'm only leaving for six days.


2. I'll make sure they have a week's worth of socks, underwear, pants & shirts. Although they may not get out of the PJ's on Sunday, which for them, means changing underwear is optional.


3. They could be in trouble on the dish front though. There are only ten melamine kid plates and we have two kids and I'll be gone for more than five meals. Good news is we have Corelle for the grown ups - it's is really just the grown up version of melamine. In a pinch, the kids could use the grown up plates. As a back-up, there are paper plates in the cabinet - about three shelves above the Margaritaville Machine (One that uses water of the frozen variety. Of course, Hubby knows how to operate this one. And I'm sure it will get used while I'm gone.)

PS - Hubby, this does not excuse you from attempting to use said machines while I'm away - I just gave you the basic instructions. I'm positive you'll try to keep the house in some kind of orderly fashion while I'm gone (or at least you and the girls will make a mad dash to make it look that way on Friday night before I get home).

The Battle of the Bird

We have a transom window above our front door. It doesn't open; it's just for decoration.

As such, there is a little bit of a ledge. Apparently, just the right depth for a bird nest.

Or so a particular robin seems to think.

I don't think so.

We use the front door a gazillion times a day. We have a three car garage in the back of the house which we access via an alley. The garage is full of unorganized stuff, so we don't park in it. That's a story for another day. (I know, I think I've been saying that for a couple of years now.)

I am not parking on the driveway, walking around the garage (in the generally wet or snow covered grass), and across the back patio to reach the back door.

Oh. My. Gosh. That's like, 60 feet. At least.

It is so much faster to park on the street and be just a few feet from the front door.

Anywho, back to the bird.

A couple of months ago, I noticed a bunch of grass and whatnot on the front porch right in front of the door. I swept it off into the mulch.

The next day, it happened again. This time I also observed a robin heading toward the house and making a dramatic turn when it saw me.

Gears started turning in my head. No, there wasn't any smoke emanating. I've use my brain often enough to know you have to spray some WD-40 up there once in awhile.

I made my eyes all squinty-like, pursed my lips and thought to myself, "That bird is trying to make a nest up there."

Now, I don't have an issue with birds building nests. I know there would even be interesting learning/observation moments for the kids. But I can't have a bird nest right above my front door.

Birds poop.

A lot.

And their nest isn't their bathroom. It would be my front door and porch right below the nest. I have a home based business and I can't have a front door that is constantly covered in bird poop. Also, since this is our main point of entry, I can't have a bird dive bombing us every time we use it because we're getting too close to the eggs/baby birds.

Sorry, birdie, we were here first. You are going to have to go some place else. A tree perhaps - there is one only ten feet away with a nice amount of leaves to provide adequate coverage. There are even a couple of other places where the pillars support the roof of the porch that would be good nesting spots.

Just not right above the front door!

Well, I couldn't have him building his nest there so I scooped up all his fallen materials and threw them in the trash. I wasn't going to give him easy access so he could just try again.

After I threw away the mess, I saw him up in the transom window trying to build the nest. AGAIN! Doesn't he get that there just isn't enough room up there????

I opened the door, screamed, "Bah!" at him, and he flew away. I looked like a crazy woman in my bathrobe screaming, "Bah!" at my front door for a couple of days afterward.

Whatever he was using to try to build the nest wasn't staying up there anyway. I was constantly cleaning up my front porch and filling my trash with twigs, dried grass, that netting they use to keep sod together, etc.

After a few days, I didn't seen him anymore and thought he had found himself a nice tree to make a nest in.

Until yesterday.

Let me mention we'd just had a real nice storm and the ground was sopping wet. Some would call it muddy.

The bird would call it glue.

Yup, now he had dried grass & twigs & mud.

When I woke up and walked down the stairs, I could see something in the corner of the transom window. More eye squinting and pursed lips. "That bird is back."

I grabbed a coat hanger and knocked down what little he had up there. I scooped up the meager mud hut beginnings and threw it in the trash.

I took my shower and got the family ready for the day.

An hour later, as I walked down the stairs, I actually saw the bird in the transom window with a mouth full of muddy grass. He saw me and flew off into a tree. Where he belongs!!!!!

I grabbed the hanger and knocked down a bigger wad of mud and grass. As I was doing this, I heard, "Gack! Gack! Gack!" I looked at the bird and said, "Don't you talk back to me. You can't build a nest here." I was very stern. I even wagged my finger at him.

I had to run out for a bit. When I returned an hour and a half later, that gosh darned bird had an even bigger wad of mud and grass up in the transom window.

Obviously, my stern warning wasn't enough of a deterrent. I know, it doesn't really work with the kids either. I don't know why I thought it would work on something that didn't even speak my language.

I marched up the porch steps and grabbed the coat hanger. I left it out on the porch earlier. Perhaps it was a passive attempt at a threat, but that didn't deter the bird either.

I flicked the mud off that ledge and it landed with a splat.

I needed a new plan.

To the garage!

After a brief search, I came up with water balloons. Hard to believe it was a brief search in that garage, but it was like a beacon of light was shining on the balloons. Not really, they just happened to be at the end of an eye-level shelf right in front of the access door.

I blew up several and tied them to a string. Ran to the basement for a nail & a hammer. Scrambled to place a chair under the transom window. Stretched on my tippy toes to hammer the nail into casing and tied on my string of balloons. That bird was getting faster at building his mud huts so I had to execute ASAP.

The fluttering balloons should keep him at bay.

I'm determined. I. WILL. WIN.

Silver Lining:

1. 24 hours and counting and there is no more mud in the transom window.


2. I've always resisted putting any nails in the casing around the door and transom window for Christmas garland so my front door has always had just a boring wreath on it. It's a pretty wreath, but just so cliche. Now that the first nail has been driven, I might as well put in some more when I go to put up the Christmas decorations this year.


3. I'll get a head start on those Christmas nails. The balloons are pretty deflated today so I'm going to evenly space some nails and hang old CD's from them using fishing line. Hopefully, they won't be to obvious from the street (and get me in trouble with the HO association), but will flutter enough to keep the bird away.

Don't You Hate It When . . .

. . .your day has been filled with "Don't You Hate It When . . ." moments?

. . .you make up a pot of coffee, painstakingly clean a travel mug that you retrieved from the trunk of your car after three weeks, & drain the last drop of milk into the mug (so it's cool enough to guzzle), then, dash out the door only to realize half way to work that you left your coffee on the kitchen counter?

. . .the shirt you really wanted to wear was too wrinkled for Downy Wrinkle Releaser to get the wrinkles out. Heaven forbid, the ironing board get hauled out. Jeez, do you know how many piles of laundry I have to climb in order to do that?!?

. . .the air conditioner is not functioning properly at work and it's 90 degrees outside? Or it is functioning on overdrive when it's only 70 degrees outside?

. . .your child whines about having to brush her hair before her teeth? As long as you don't mix up the brushes, what does it matter?

. . .it's trash day, you're late for work, and you've forgotten to take the trash down to the end of the driveway? And did I mention the trash can is overflowing because the same thing happened last week? Our garage is in the back of the house which we access with an alley. We park in the front of our house because we don't have room in the garage to park the cars. As a result, I don't notice all the other trash cans until I've gone down the street and happen to glance down one of the alleys.

. . .people try to stuff ten pounds of trash into a five pound bag? This is totally a case of the pot calling the kettle black, but I hate it when this happens none the less.

. . .the dishwasher is empty, but there are a TON of dishes in the sink?

. . .the dishwasher light says that it's "clean", but there are hardly any dishes inside? Because the family has been "harvesting" dishes as needed instead of actually emptying the dishwasher.

. . .your back scratcher has gone missing and all you can find to use is a toilet brush? This wasn't actually me, but I saw a guy with crazy hair and missing teeth using a toilet brush as a back scratcher on Tosh.O last week. Why would you do such a thing? And video tape it? And put it out there for others to see? Ewwwwwwwwwwww!

. . .when it looks like there is enough toilet paper on the roll, but there really isn't? And another roll isn't handy because your bathroom is out of toilet paper because everyone uses it, even though there is a bathroom especially decorated all princess-like for the little princesses in your house. Of course that bathroom has a gazillion rolls of toilet paper in it. If only it weren't around two corners & down the hall.

. . .you have to do laundry? Enough said.

. . .you get busted for blogging at work? Hasn't actually happened yet, but I'm sure it's only a matter of time.

. . .you just can't ignore that little envelope at the bottom corner of your screen? You know it. It's the one that says, "YOU'VE GOT MAIL! Don't try to ignore me because I'm bright yellow, and I'll just sit here until you check your e-mail. Oh, yeah - I MOCK YOU!"

. . .it's only X:XX time? No matter what, it's ONLY not close enough to the time you want it to be - coffee break time, lunch time, meeting end time, time to go home, kids' bedtime, summer time. I could go on and on and on and on.

. . .you have to come up with something positive about a crummy day?

Silver Lining:

1. That was yesterday and today is a new day. I actually got a good parking space even though I got to work a little on the late side. Whomever had that space and had to leave probably thought, "I hate it when I have a good parking space and then have to give it up early." I say, "Nah-nah, nah-nah, boo, boo."


2. This is all in perfect timing for Random Tuesday Thoughts. Go visit Keely and the gang at www.theunmom.com for more randomness. Or click the pretty purple button up at the top of the page.

The Fly

My husband has this tendency to leave his fly unzipped.

I don't get this. Normal operating procedure is:

1. button/snap


2. zip

Two steps. How hard can it be?

Yet, almost daily, I remind him to zip his fly.

So this morning, I signed and rolled my eyes. Then said, "Honey, your fly."

His response, "Heh, heh. I left that open for you."

I thought to myself, "Oh, the privileged life I lead. I live to wipe snotty noses, change pee soaked sheets, find missing socks and remind others to zip up. Yes, it's a privileged life."

Silver Lining:

1. I have noses to wipe, sheets to change and those socks eventually turn up. It means we have children to love, warm beds to sleep in and clothes on our backs.


2. I have a husband who makes me smile daily and whose absentmindedness on this issue reminds of me of the good things I have in this world.

From Here To There

You know how scary it is when you arrive at your destination, but you don't remember the trip?

Routine places - work, home, market, liquor store . . .

I mean, really? What happened during the trip? Could I have run over a squirrel? Gone through a red light or two?

I have no idea because I remember putting on my seat belt and turning the key in the ignition, but the next thing I know 15 minutes have passed and I'm pulling into a parking lot.

That, seriously, just happened to me here at work. I wasn't driving - I'm at my computer.

I just happened to look up and there on the screen is a fully uploaded journal entry.

When did I do that?

Scary stuff.

Silver Lining:

1. The entry was right.


2. A mundane task was completed and I completely missed it! If only this could be the case with cleaning, exercising, explaining (yet again) why it's not OK to put your feet on the wall. . .

Semi Charmed Life

Doot, doot, doot. Doot, do-doot, doot. Doot, doot, doot. Doot, do-doot, doot. Doot, doot, doot. Doot, do-doot, doot. Doot, doot, doot.



You just can't help singing it once you hear it. It's one of those songs that sticks in your head all day long. I've heard these are called ear worms, but ick!

Anywho, that song came on last night during Bunco.

As happy a song it is, an argument ensued.

I was singing along, "Doot, doot, doot . . . I love this song. I remember working at Domino's when it came out."

My teammate made fun of me making pizzas.

I didn't make pizza, I was a delivery driver. I was 23 or 24.

You're not that much older than me. I'm 36 (which happens to be my age) and I distinctly remember this song coming out when I was in high school.

Well, I remember sitting in a drive thru with my Domino's uniform on and one of those light up do-dads on my car. (I was probably getting hamburgers plain with salt for my boss at the time. As weird as that is, I still married into his family - the kids might be doomed.)

[With a neck swagger] Maybe that was the first time you heard it . . .

I threw one of my dice at her. It bounced off her glasses. But impressively, she caught it even after drinking half a bottle of spiced rum.

She pitched it back at me. Bounced it off my glasses and I caught it too - with my boobs. It was quite the bank shot. Impressive indeed.

Silver Lining:

1. I'm not a loser as implied. The song came out in 1997. So if what she was saying is true, she was 23 and still in high school. Hmmmmm . . .


2. Nobody's glasses got broken.

The New Fig Latin

First off - I'm baaaaaaack!

Sorry I've been away so long. Lots going on and not all that funny, but I need to get back to seeing the lighter side of life and this is my way of doing it.

On with the story.

Recently, when asked whether or not she was going to do something, a co-worker answered, "Yah, I'm funna."

Perhaps I miss understood, and she actually said, "Yah, I'm gonna." But if not, it begs the question, what does that mean????

Funna or fonna. I don't know how to spell it, only how to pronounce it. Let's just stick with the phonetic way for simplicity's sake.

Funna.

I have a theory on this.

I think she meant, "F*** yah, I'm f***in' gonna do it!"

Since it was an office setting, I can see not wanting to use the f-word, but a simple, "Duh" would have worked. Ok, if you're talking to your foss, I suppose you don't want tell him or her, "Duh". I do, but I'm not your typical office worker.

So, to be sly, you may want to use "funna". To the untrained ear, it just kind of slides on by.

Wow, there are so many fapplications for this new kind of Pig Latin!

You're in the middle of a crowded family restaurant and you take your first bite of super hot wings, "Holy crap! These wings are fot!"

Your buddy dares you lick your finger and stick it in an outlet, "No fay!" You may add "fasshole" at the end, but that really isn't all that sly.

There is a slight problem with words that already start with the letter F. In this case you just have to stutter a little, "That was f-funny." Again, very sly.

There are really only three rules to Fig Latin:

1. For words that do not begin with "F", replace the first letter of the word with an "F".


2. For words that do begin with "F", add an extra "F" to the beginning of the word.


3. Be sly about it.

If you get to cocky with it and don't follow rule number three, you can get yourself into a wee bit of trouble. If you do get yourself into trouble, don't come crying to me. You're the fidiot who didn't follow the rules and got caught.

Silver Lining:

1. I now have a way to let my inner potty mouth sing. Well, other than getting a kick out of using "Chuck" in the Name Game song.


2. I'm in the process of testing Shig Latin. Stay tuned.

Things I Don't Get

• Why do women do the front of their hair and not the back? Like when they pull their hair back in a ponytail or a banana clip, but pull out enough of the sides to still curl and frame their face.



• Banana clips.



• Little girls wearing clothes more appropriate for today's teenagers. Not that teenagers always wear appropriate clothing, but still I should see a seven year old in short, short skirts and shirts that are little too short. And sometimes make up??



• Candles littering the house. Really? I know they smell good, but wouldn't one or two be enough? The collect dust in my house and they're a pain to clean. I've got those fake on my dining room sconces - the ones with a battery to light them up. They have a partially melted look and they flicker - cool, huh?



• Those pop-ups on Foxnews.com or MSN.com. The kind where you barely mouse over a word and they bring up addition information, but usually unrelated to the article. If I want to know more information, I'll click on it! At the very least, it should wait until I've paused on it for a couple of seconds. Geez.



• In Farmville, you can't rotate the buildings.



• In Farmville, you don't get to keep your own mystery eggs or the animals that wander onto your farm. They're your gosh darn chickens, you should be able to keep at least one! And if an animal wanders onto my farm, I think the "Finders, Keepers" rule should apply.



• Mafia Wars.



• Democrats.



• People who feel the need to have the make of their car across the top of their windsheild. Dude, I can see that you drive a Subaru.



• Pink hair. Or purple. Or blaze orange.



• My daughter having a week off of school for quarter break and another week off for Easter break. She's off this week and again the first or second week of April. WTF??? That costs me a lot of money when it comes to daycare.



• Building a new elementary school and only sending K-2 to it and leaving 3-5 in the old school. You'd think they would just divide the school district. I know a lot of parents who are being forced to pick up their kids at two different schools, 12 miles apart, that get out at the same time. All the schools are currently on the same campus surrounded by corn fields. Buying additional land for another school building from the farmer wasn't an option?



• People who don't delete the forwarding e-mail junk before the real message. Especially when it's a joke - I'm bored before I get there and then it isn't as funny.



• Junk e-mail.



• Spam.



• Ballpoint pens that ooze.



• Why people still buy and use regular pencils when mechanical ones are so much more efficient. Who wants to walk all the way to a pencil sharpener? Or hunt around for one? Or empty it when it's full of shavings - those carbon shavings can make a mess similar to when toner gets out of the container on the copier or printer.



• People who don't replenish paper in the copier or printer.



• People who walk away from a jam in the copier or printer.



• People who regularly send 300 page documents to the printer in the middle of the day. Wait until early morning or late afternoon people!



• Bloggers who don't post anything for two weeks. Oops, that's me. Sorry.

Well, I guess this post would be better suited for Random Tuesday Thoughts, but I don't get these things today. Tomorrow it may be all better, and therefore, not as timely. So there you go.

Silver Lining:

1. I'm sure I have readers out there who can explain these things to me so I get them.


2. There are lots of things I do get. Like why my kids are so smart and so stinkin' cute (not that I'm biased or anything), how Mary Kay is the best skin care routine for the best value, cars need gas to run, you have to work instead of blogging in order to keep your job, etc.