I'm a slave to vanity

I've never considered myself an overly-vain person. I mean, yes, I have learned over the years that the one day I don't put on makeup or do my hair when I go out in public, will be the one time I happen to run into someone from high school. And of course, they look fabulous and I look the opposite. So yes, I'm a little vain that way.

But the times when I make a run to the store wearing paint-splattered clothes, or we're coming back from camping and have to stop for gas or whatever, and I reek like campfire, haven't had a shower in days, my hair is pulled back in a greasy ponytail, wearing filthy clothes... at least in those instances, there's a valid excuse to why I look the way I do. And so I don't really give a hoot what other people think.

But then, there's the times when something has happened and I will not, I flat-out refuse to leave the house because of how I look. Like in the case of a major break-out, or a puffy eye, or whatnot. (And the puffy eye thing, tell me this has happened to you. You notice that one eye is slightly red and the eyelid is a little puffy. But instead of leaving it alone, which you should always do!, you start rubbing it and fooling around trying to figure out why its like that. And you just make it a thousand times worse and end up with a red swollen eyelid, eyes bloodshot, and you look like a total beast!)

So I noticed yesterday that there was a spot on my jaw, back towards my ear, that was really tender. We'd been out quadding with the kids and I just figured that Ryder's helmet must've bashed my jaw in that spot when he was in front of me on the quad. Thought nothing of it. Until this morning. I woke up and realized that the tender spot was now very, very sore, and when I felt around my jaw I could feel that that area, and my cheek, was all swollen. What the hell? Then I realized that the wisdom tooth on that side was also in complete agony. I have funny wisdom teeth, they're what dentists call "floaters" because they can't decide if they want to come down or stay up. So about once a year, they'll decide to make their presence known to me and try to push through the gum and cause me extreme pain for a couple of days, then they'll float back up and leave me alone. The dentist keeps insisting I get them pulled, but as long as they continue to float back up after each episode, I don't see the necessity for surgery.

So this is one of those times that the wisdom tooth has come to say hello to me. Except that I've never had this kind of reaction before. My jaw is so sore, and the inside of my cheek is so swollen and puffy, which has resulted in the outside of my cheek being puffy as well. I look like a chipmunk on that side! And the location of the swelling is such that it looks like I have a friggin' JOWL! A jowl, people.

When I mentioned it to Hubs, he was convinced it was nothing but a popcorn kernel stuck in the gum (we had popcorn last night, obvs). "No, its not! Its the wisdom tooth!" Are you sure? You better check just in case. "I already did check for that! Its the tooth!" Well, I TOLD you that you should have gotten the surgery! Arrrghh! MEN! Can't you just say 'You're right honey, its the tooth, but don't worry, it'll go away soon. You can't even notice the swelling and you still look beautiful'? *sigh*

So yeah, I'm now a slave to my own vanity, imprisoned in the house today (and/or until the swelling goes down!) because I refuse to be seen in public with a swollen, misshapen chipmunk face. There goes the plan to pick up some potting soil and flowers from Walmart so I can work on my backyard today. I'll probably just head to Mom's with the kids, hang out there for a while. Because its okay if family laughs at you, just not strangers that you'll never see again.

What can I say, we're a cl-ASS-y family

Hubs and I took the kids to the beach a few evenings ago. It had been such a hot day and we thought it'd be nice to have supper on the beach and let the kids play in the sand (what little sand there is!). We had a thoroughly wonderful time. Gunnar and Ardan took turns taking out the kayak, Lena made a sweet sandcastle, and Ryder... You guys, that kid is nuts about the water! He didn't care about how cold it was, he was constantly running in and out of the water, splashing whoever was nearest him. And he loves sand! He kept bringing me handfuls of sand. Uh, thank you? Haha.

I'd packed a little supper of baked chicken thighs, watermelon, chips, and chocolate cookies. Everyone gorged themselves, then went right back to the sand and water (Ard even decided to be super-brave and dive in). Ryder had gone a little nuts on the cookies and his face from the nose down was covered in brown cookie gunk.

I was laying on a towel, suntanning and reading a book while Hubs sat in his lawnchair beside me, watching the kids. So relaxing. Ryder came up to me and must have been in a lovey-dovey mood because he draped himself over my thighs (I was laying on my stomach) and planted a huge wet kiss right on my ass! Then he rubbed his face right into my buttcrack! I was a little embarrassed, I mean people were constantly walking by us. So I wiggled him off of me. We were all laughing hilariously, until it hit me --- the cookie gunk! (Because, yeah, I'm a horrible mom and I hadn't washed it off his face.) I turned to Ty with dread and asked how bad the damage was on my butt, could you see anything? Dead silence. Then, "Uh, yeah. And its bad." How bad? "Uh, well, it kinda looks like you had a major accident in your pants." What?! Oh no! I immediately rolled over so the people walking by wouldn't see.

Meanwhile, Ardan had come in from his swim and decided to change into his dry clothes. Right there, on the beach. Just stripped right down to utter nakedness. Ty gave him a towel to drape over his lower half, and what did the kid do? He just bunched it up between his clenched thighs so it covered his crotch. His back was turned to the street so unbeknownst to him, he was totally mooning all the passing cars! Gunnar and I realized this, and in started the giggle-fit. Literally laughing so hard that we were chortling and gurgling and choking on our spit. Ardan was in the process of trying to pull his drenched skin-tight shirt over his head, so his arms were trapped, and there was nothing he could do about it, other than turn around so his bare ass was now in our faces. Except then the worst happened... his towel started slipping! In mere moments it was down around his ankles and his entire crotch was now hanging out (well, not really, shrinkage you know) for all the cars driving by to see! At this point, Gunn and I were laughing so hard we couldn't even speak. I tried getting Ty's attention, I really did, so he could help Ard with the towel but he was off collecting the beach toys. Eventually Ardan got the shirt off and had that towel yanked back up so quickly. I could barely even breath, I was still laughing so hard.

After that, we realized we'd been down there for over two hours and it was time to go home. Except... no way was I getting off my towel and showing my cookie-covered ass to everyone walking and driving by. So I made Ty and the kids load everything up while I sat there. I'm sure I looked like a total lazy ass. I even made Ty get Lena and Ryder in their carseats. I mean, obviously I'm not going to do it, and have my ass hanging out for all the world to see. I purposely waited till there was no traffic and no pedestrians walking around, before I ran to the vehicle and jumped in.

How embar-ASS-ing!!

Lena loves Grampa Mark

Lena and I were on the deck the other night, hanging out and enjoying the warm weather. She was sitting on a chair beside me, chattering non-stop as she does, while I listened with half an ear as I read a book. She suddenly got quiet and I stopped reading and looked at her. "Mommy, do you think Grampa Mark can see me from heaven?"

"Sure he can, sweetheart. Remember we talked about how Grampa Mark and Grampa Eddy are your guardian angels? Grampa Mark never got to see you when you born because you were still inside my tummy when he died. So you are extra-special to him, and he's always there, watching over you and loving you."

She gave me a huge smile, eyes twinkling, and said, "Then that means he's probably watching me right now!" And she looked up at the sky, raised her hand to her mouth, kissed the palm, and blew the kiss upwards. "Grampa loves it when I give him kisses!"

I couldn't even reply, my throat was so tight, so I just smiled at her and nodded.

I finally converted the non-believer!

Ever since I've known him, Hubs has been strongly anti-Value Village. When we first moved to Red Deer I got a job at Toys R Us and had to come up with a 'uniform' of black pants and a white dress shirt. Being on a strict budget (meaning completely broke, the norm for young punks like us) meant I couldn't go out to Sears or the Bay and drop $50, so instead I went to Value Village (made Ty come with) and only spent like $10. I was just thrilled but I remember him being horrified by that place. He'd never been in there and he vowed he never would again. He said the smell of the place, you know that smell, traumatized him and he could never imagine wanting to wear someone's castoff clothes. Typical spoiled-rich-boy attitude, eh?

For years, I tried to get him to change his way of thinking. When I'd show him all the awesome finds I'd made there, clothes for the kids and myself at a fraction of the price, he'd just smile and say, "That's nice." But he'd still refuse to let me buy him clothes there. When I brought home one of those huge molded plastic kitchen sets for Lena and he saw that I only paid $10 for it, I think his attitude started to change. Just a little, though.

In the past month, Hubs has managed to destroy three pairs of his work pants, giant rips in the crotch and legs that would be impossible to fix by sewing. Which left him with only two pairs of work jeans. He mentioned that he should go shopping for some new jeans for work. Which just enraged me, "You mean you want to buy NEW jeans so you can wear them to WORK?! I don't think so!" I mean, how bone-headed is that? New jeans at like $40 a pop, just to wear to work and get them all dirty, stained and ripped? NO. So I decided to go against his anti-VV mindset and pick him up some new pants at, where else, VV. Unbeknownst to him, of course. I'd just hand him the pants and he'd have no choice but to accept them, since they were already paid for. Right? Makes sense.

So when my wonderful, thoughtful grandma Dea called me Sunday night to let me know VV's 50% sale was the next day, it seemed like providence. Loaded up the kids Monday morning, drove to VV, and got to work shopping. And when I say 'got to work', I really mean it. That place was PACKED. I managed to find the lone parking space, only to discover once inside that all the carts were gone! So with my new attitude of 'no regrets, be bold', I commandeered a cart full of clothes sitting by itself at the end of an aisle. No one seemed to care when I dumped the clothes out into a bin, so I figured it must have been a cart that a worker had placed unwanted clothes into. So that small triumph set the tone for the next three hours. Yes, three hours, people. I literally went down every single aisle.

First I loaded up on clothes for No.3 and No.4. Got Lena five new pairs of jeans, really nice ones too. A couple of skirts, lots of t-shirts, two really sweet jean jackets, and a totally wicked pair of shitkicker boots for her. (When I told her that since they really are shit-kicker boots, she was allowed to say that, she was so shocked and thrilled, "You mean I can really say that word? Yesss! I can't wait to tell Gramma Hag about my new shitkickers!" Yep, that's my girl.) Ryder got about ten new pairs of pants, three pairs of summer shorts, lots of t-shirts, and a new pair of sandals.

Then I moved on to the boys section, looking for new shirts for No.1 and No.2. And man, did I ever find some awesome stuff! A couple of West 49 shirts, a Moto-X one, a few with funky cool skull designs, even a black shirt with their school logo on it! They each got about six new shirts, and they were ecstatic over what I picked out for them. To the point where I was almost offended, "What, you think I have bad taste or something? Did you think I'd get you Bob the Builder shirts or something? Geezsh!"

Next I moved on to the women's section. Three t-shirts (one is a retro-looking Blondie one, so cool), a pair of white capris in that light sweatshirt material, and a sweet pair of Levi's low-cut jeans. Oh, and a pair of wedge heels. Because you know that I scoured that shoe section like crazy. Heels and purses seem to be my new obsession. I'd originally had about twenty pairs of jeans and capris in the cart to try on, but when I saw how long the line was for the change rooms and the lady told me you could only try on 5 at a time, then had to go to the end of the line to wait for your next turn, I was like, "HELL no." Put all the pants back but for that one pair of jeans and the capris.

So by this time, we'd already been there a good two-and-a-half hours. Thank GOD I had the foresight to bring a lunchbag stuffed with snacks and juiceboxes for the kids, else I would have lost my ever-lovin' mind. By the time I made it to the men's pants section, almost all the food was gone and the kids had that look in their eyes, like they were going to strangle me if I took any longer. I made my way through all the t-shirts, must've looked at 500 shirts before choosing two that I was pretty sure he'd like. He's real picky with shirts, so I have to be very choosy. Then on to jeans. Out of the hundreds of pairs there in his size, I'd say a good 90% were Wranglers. Hubs would not be caught dead in Wranglers, ever, so those were out. After much deliberation and careful thought, I found him three new-ish looking pairs of Levi's (at half price, so around $7 a pair, what a steal!). And as I left that aisle and headed for the check-out, I noticed a pair of grey shorts hanging on the end of a rack. Went to check them out, turns out they were Airwalk shorts, kind of dressy-looking like golf shorts. For $4! I was so thrilled.

Oh, and I should mention that Lena made me go through the toy section with her. She begged me for stuffed animals and dollys, to which I emphatically told her NO, we don't need any more of those in the house. So she settled on a bag full of Polly Pocket stuff (a car, clothes, figurines, a little house, etc) and a bag full of various stencils. Stencils! I mean, I'm always on the lookout for more stuff to add to the arts and craft arsenal we got going on, but stencils? Her reasoning was that then the brothers could do stencils with her and they'd all have fun, and who can refute that? What a little sweetheart.

So anyway, flash forward to that night. The boys had already been through their stuff, ecstatic and quite in awe of me and my mad fashion-skills. But we were all anxious to see how Daddy would react to what I'd got him. Remember, this is the man who's trash-talked VV for years. I'll admit, he did make me bargain with him, he said "a kiss for trying on each item", so that worked out to six kisses. Suited me just fine, best bargain I ever made! Haha. What a stinker he is. But here is the totally awesome, amazing thing -- he friggin' LOVED the clothes! When he tried on the three pairs of jeans, he just couldn't believe how "nice" they were, "practically new!" I told him his ass looked sweeeet in them, so of course then he had to strut around and model them for me. He actually said to me about the one super-nice pair, "I'll have to keep these in my emergency overnight bag, so if I get sent up north I can wear them and not look grungy, and all the hot waitresses at the hotel restaurant will try to flirt with me." I just grinned and shook my head at him. He tried on the Airwalk shorts and when I expressed anxiety that they looked a little tight, he assured me, "Oh, well, once I drop my drinking-weight, they'll fit better." What is that, "drinking-weight"? "You know, if I stop drinking I drop like 20 pounds." Must be frickin' nice!!!! MEN! So not fair. And the shirts I got him, his reaction was hilarious! "Why would anyone want to give these away? Are they insane? These are awesome!" So he just thought I was THE shit after that, the fashion Queen, the most wonderful wife ever!

What a relief. I should have done this years ago, eh? Just taken the bull by the horns, disregarded his vanity and snobbish mindset, and gone ahead and done it. I think he's probably thinking the same thing! I'll admit that I had to get in a couple of 'told-you-so's in there. After all, behind every great man is the even greater woman who picks out his clothes, right? LOL

Where's a good rock to hide under when you need one?

Its been about three weeks now since I've been a blonde and yes, I have had a few 'blonde moments'. I'm sure everyone has had those and you just want to die of embarrassment, but at least if you are a blonde you have something to blame.

The first 'moment' was actually a few days after the dye job, when my hair was a super-bright blonde. I went in the liquor store to get some rum and coolers (the liquor store by the new Winks in Lakeway, so take note of this story in case you ever go there). Got my stuff, paid for it and headed to the door to leave, the same door I'd come in from. The cashier guy says to me, "That door has no handle." I smiled and nodded at him, thinking, "Okay, then I'll just push it open, duh!" Got to the door, tried to push it open, it didn't open! I looked back at the guy and only then noticed that there was another door, an exit door. Ohhhhh. I turned around and made my way to that door, utterly embarrassed, smiling almost apologetically (I was sorry, sorry I made an ass of myself in front of that hot guy, doh!), pointed to my hair and said, "Its the blonde coming out!" He just laughed and said, "Everyone does that." But why wouldn't he have just said to me, "Oh, the exit door is over here." He must get off on watching everyone embarrass themselves, then he can tell his buddies later, "Got another one today, you should have seen that dummie try to open the door! Bwahaha!" MEN!

The next blonde moment could actually be attributed to the large quantity of caesars I'd had, but I'm sure my blondeness seemed obvious at that moment. It was at Hubs' work break-up party just the other night. Most of the guys were playing poker, so those of us feeling left out decided to play Cranium. (And who knew that I'd be friggin' wicked at Cranium? Guess being the Queen of Useless Knowledge, She Who Knows Everything About Nothing, does serve a purpose sometimes.) My team was totally kicking ass, we made it almost around the entire board before the other team even got their first turn. Those of you familiar with the game know that the one team reads the cards for the other team. So it was my turn to read a card for the other team. First of all, I absolutely hate having everyone watch me while I read something aloud, I always feel like an idiot, I don't know why. Secondly, I'd had quite a few caesars by then and my lips were kind of numb and I was kind of stuttery and feeling mentally sluggish. At least everyone else there was well-past the tipsy point as well. So I stumbled my way through reading the card, everyone's eyes on me, then I realized that I had seen the answer. "Oh, I saw the answer! Is that okay?" "That's okay," they assured me, "it doesn't matter for this one." "Oh, okay then. Uh, where was I? Oh yeah, Frosty the Snowman!" Everyone burst out laughing, I'm all confused about why. "Ohhhhh, I just said the answer, didn't I?" Trust me, they didn't let me live that down. "Let's have Beau read all our next cards, we'll win for sure!" I tried to tell them it was the blonde coming out but they knew better. "Sure sure, Beau, here, have another caesar!" How embarrassing.

I love my kid and all...

Warning: Gross TMI!

No.4 did it to me again. He had gone down for a nap a couple of hours before, and I could hear him bumping and banging around in there. So I went to his room to let him out, cracked open the door and was just hit with this overwhelming smell. "Someone went poo-peee..... OH. MY. GOD!!!!"

There he was, standing by the toy box, looking all happy and excited to see me. And he was covered, literally covered, head-to-toe in poop. My eyes scanned the room, taking in the total destruction, and spotted the diaper on the floor, emptied of its contents. He'd obviously taken the crap out, smeared it all over himself, stepped on a huge chunk and ground it into the carpet and the shag area rug. It was on the walls, on the little table, on toys, on the toy box lid. There were chunks of it in his hair (his frickin' hair, people!!!), his hands looked like they'd been dipped in it, and his face, his poor sweet little face, was almost unrecognizable. Only his bright blue eyes were visible. And he was just standing there, looking at me, happy as a pig in, well, shit.

Its one of those parenting moments where you are just overwhelmed with the enormity of the situation you've found yourself in. Obviously the first thing I had to take care of was getting him in to the tub, stat. It took three washcloths (that immediately went straight in the garbage), half a bottle of kids shampoo, ten minutes of scrubbing (and gagging), and five minutes of using the showerhead on him afterwards. And let me tell you, he DOES NOT like the showerhead. (One thing we don't have in common, I guess. Ha.)

Then it was on to cleaning the walls, the table, the toy box lid. The toys I just threw in the tub to deal with later. Scrubbing poo out of toy car tires was not high on the priority list. So once all that was done, the REAL test of my patience and anger-management began. How to clean the carpet and shag area rug? And let me tell you, people, that baby wipes are possibly man's greatest invention, ever. I already knew they were useful for such things as washing your face, removing makeup, wiping food off clothes, wiping down your vehicle interior, etc. Who knew they could remove ground-in poop so amazingly well from carpets? I swear, if enough people knew about this, they could put carpet-stain-removal-products out of business.

Actually, to be perfectly honest, I already knew they could clean small stains out of the carpet. But poop, I had no idea. True, I did use up almost an entire pack of wipes, but the results... amazing. You really cannot tell that they were even there.

And so yeah, there you have it. Let this tale be a lesson to y'all, let it be a new form of birth control for those of you unprepared to deal with shit like this on a regular basis (pun intended). Toddlers -- can't help but love them, can't sell them on eBay.

A True Class Act

Adam's response when asked about the finale results and the difference between he and Kris:

"I knew it was going to be a close race. He's incredibly talented, and he's a good person. We got to do a really good finale, and we're both going to do great things in the future. For me, it's not about what happened tonight, it's about the future.

"I think that Kris won because he's a great artist, and I was happy to be a runner-up to that.

"We are seemingly so different, but we found a way to get along and find a common bond. Mostly through music, but also just through talking and getting to know each other.

"And if there's anything that can come from this experience that I hope all the fans out there can pick up is that even if you're really different, there's a way to get along with each other.

"It's not about, 'You beat me because of this.' Or, you're different. It's about finding the common stuff that makes it work. We got out there and did the Queen duet and we made it work because we found a common ground with each other.

"If there's anything we can take from this, it's bringing you guys together is what our goal was, not separating you."

(Source: Eye On Idol on Comcast.net - Live Blog).

INJUSTICE! BETRAYAL! THE BIGGEST UPSET IN HISTORY!!

You know its going to be a bad day when you wake up feeling hungover and you didn't even drink the night before. That's how I feel this morning -- groggy, achy, sore eyes, slightly nauseous (don't any of you even DARE to comment that I might be pregnant!!! Trust me, its impossible right now). And the reason for this is because last night my wonderful, sweet, uber-talented, dead-sexy future hubby, Adam Lambert, LOST AMERICAN IDOL TO THAT BIBLE-THUMPING HAYSEED POSER KRIS ALLEN!!!

I had said before that if he lost, I was done with Idol. And I am. I had said that if he lost, everyone better be prepared to see one of the worst tantrums in history, I was going to flat-out destroy stuff! I was going to grab the nearest thing to me, run out on the front lawn (so I didn't destroy the house) and just smash it, over and over. That my screams of rage and frustration would echo straight out to space. Well, my reaction at seeing those final five minutes of Idol weren't quite that dramatic, but I did punch the couch. And cry. Yes, I did. I cried.

It just seemed like such an injustice, such a betrayal of the whole idea of Idol -- that the one who deserves to win, should and will. And it didn't happen that way! The fact that Kris won based not on talent or deserved-ness, but because he had three factions voting for him, that it was all politics, just kills me. Adam had his loyal Glamberts voting for him, but Kris had his own fan base, most of Danny's fan base (because the mentality is that you either love Adam or hate him, and Danny is a safe, middle-of-the-road singer like Kris, so his fans easily crossed over to Kris's side), as well there are many websites out there, like VoteForTheWorst, who recruit and encourage people to vote for who shouldn't win. So with all those people voting for Kris, the poor Glamberts just couldn't match those numbers, even though I'm sure my fellow Glams voted till their fingers fell off.

Even Kris realized that what happened was a major upset. The look on his face when his name was announced, even though I'm extremely bitter right now I'll give him that, the total shock he was in, even HE thought Adam would win. And he said that, "Adam should have won, I'm sorry." So that made my opinion of him go up a bit. To zero. From negative-five.

Adam was so gracious about it, and genuinely happy and excited for Kris. That's the kind of guy he is. He's become really good friends with Kris, which is kind of weird but neat, seeing as how they're polar opposites. One's a married church-going southern boy who plays accoustic guitar and likes country music. The other one's a gay/bi glam-punk-emo-rocker who likes makeup, jewelry, painted fingernails, outrageously awesome outfits and shoes, and can shatter glass with his roof-raising screams. Sort of a 'when two worlds collide' thing.

But the thing that made me get emotional and start leaking tears was that this guy, so talented and genuine, who's worked so hard all his life to get where he is today, he TRULY deserved to have that moment in the spotlight, you know? He deserved to know that feeling of overwhelming love and acceptance when his name was called, to know that the majority of America was rooting for him and wanted to see him crowned the Idol. Even though Kris is his friend, I'm sure Adam knows that he is the better singer, more talented. He put his heart and soul into every performance, gave 100% every time and then some, took the time and thought to make each performance his own. And so for his name NOT to be called, for America to choose the 'safe' guy, the non-controversial one, who's probably done nothing more daring in his life than voting for Obama... arrghh! What a travesty. Adam has said that he's battled other's opinions, been picked on, teased and tormented, his entire life, and that he persevered by ignoring all that, pushing on and just being who he is, staying true to himself. But I imagine that there was still a part of him that longed for the unconditional acceptance of his peers. And last night should have been the moment where he was given that! Instead, once again he was shown that the majority of people simply aren't at that stage of non-judgemental acceptance and openminded-ness. Adam was robbed not only of the Idol title, but of having his moment in the sun, knowing that HE was our Idol, that "we love him, we really love him!" It just makes me sick.

And so I'm trying to be positive about the whole thing, which is not an easy thing to do. The only thought that soothes the beast is knowing that either way, Adam has made it. Simon has said that Idol is just a stepping-stone for Adam, that he will go on to have a fantastic, world-wide career that will last. Whereas Kris Allen, in my opinion, will probably make his Idol-produced album and then fade into obscurity, like Idols before him Taylor Hicks, Ruben Studdard, and Fantasia Barrino. In the long run, coming second-place will most likely work to his advantage. Look at Chris Daughtry, he made it fourth-place then got voted off (second biggest upset in Idol history), and his career since then has sky-rocketed. Adam will still get to make his album (part of the Idol contract, 2nd place still gets you a record-deal), and because he's not the official Idol, and therefore subject to certain codes of conduct and musical restrictions, he can do the kind of music he wants to. He's not limited to safe, happy, radio-friendly tunes that the producers push on him. He can break the mold, stretch his limits, melt our hearts and faces with his blistering vocal talent.

So yeah, there you have it. My heart broke for him last night, but my love will always remain. Let Kris take the glory and adulation, while Adam stands back, shakes himself off, and gears up for the mega-career coming his way. I can't wait!!

Top 10 Dirtiest Jobs of the Housewife

So Mr Mike Rowe, you think hosting 'Dirty Jobs' is tough? Baby, you ain't seen the half of it until you've had to deal with the many dirty, nasty, disgusting, horrifying things that the housewife deals with on a daily basis! So this is my Top 10 list of all those jobs that horrify me on a personal level; though there's hundreds more, as you could ask any fellow housewife (or househubby, don't wanna discriminate! lol) and they'd agree. Such as cleaning out your child's school backpack and discovering moldy oranges, bags of rotted unidentifiable food, and sweaty stinky gym clothes that haven't seen the light of day for months. Am I right on that one, ladies? Ugh!

TOP 10 DIRTIEST JOBS OF THE HOUSEWIFE (in no particular order)

Emptying/Cleaning the Litter Box

Cleaning up Puke

Washing Filthy Walls

Cleaning the Oven

Diarrhea Diapers (and the Children Who Like to Remove Said Diapers and Smear the Contents Over Every Available Surface)

Cleaning Out the Fridge

The Children's Dirty Fingernails

Cobwebs

Clogged Toilets...

...and the resulting Over-flowed Clogged Toilet

Wet Moldy Laundry

AND THE HONORABLE MENTIONS GO TO...

Killing Spiders

Cleaning the Filth-Encrusted Microwave

Mowing the Lawn

Pee on the Toilet Seat/Base/Floor/Wall Behind Toilet

No more Mrs. Nice Guy

Regret.

Its the one emotion that remains with you forever.

Anger fades, sadness lessens, happiness comes and goes. But regret, that wasted emotion, tends to burrow its way into the deepest recesses of your heart. Time may go by, days, months, years with no remembrance of those past wrongs, but then in the space of a heartbeat, it all comes back to you. And you are crippled with the crushing embrace of true regret.

We all have regrets. Something in our past, maybe something in our present, something we know cannot be undone. Maybe you unintentionally (or intentionally) hurt someone's feelings and never apologized. Maybe there was a moment when you should have spoken up but chose to remain silent. Maybe something you did caused someone pain, grief or heartache, and you never made amends. Maybe you were in a situation where you made the wrong decision or choice, and there was no option of going back and changing it. Maybe you let something, or someone, slip through your fingers.

Regret. It preys on the mind, causes you to doubt yourself, your actions, your behaviour, your emotions. Maybe your transgression was so serious that you feel you no longer deserve good things in your life, and from that moment you subconsciously, unconsciously, self-sabotage your life. You are besieged by what-ifs... maybe I could have, why didn't I, if only I could go back.

I have many regrets for things I've done in the past. I truly regret, from the bottom of my heart, the times when I tormented my baby brother Levi by intentionally scaring him. Draping a wolf pelt over myself and luring him downstairs so I could jump out at him, then promising I wouldn't do it again, yet I did. Leading my brothers through the tall grass in the field, then screaming that the coyotes were coming and abandoning them there while I ran back to the house. At the time, it seemed like harmless innocent childhood fun, don't all siblings do things like that? And yet... as a mother, I am horrified that I did that to a sweet loving little brother.

I regret that I let anger and bitterness take root in my heart for so many years, that I let things from my childhood carry on into my adult life, that I let it taint the relationship with my father to the point that I kept him at bay, always kept that part of my heart closed to him and the potential relationship we could have had, that we should have had. And by the time I realized what a complete idiot I was being, that I chose to forgive and open my heart to him, it was too late. He was gone, and all I had left were heartache and the never-ending regret.

I regret all the times I never spoke up for myself, the times when I should have taken a stand but let fear and uncertainty control my actions. I never hesitated to stand up for others, to protect those I felt couldn't protect themselves, but when it came to my own self, I remained mute and helpless.

I regret the hurtful comments I've made to certain people. As soon as the words left my mouth I wanted to take them back, to erase the look of pain and betrayal in their eyes. How could I say that, why would I ever want to hurt those that I love. Sometimes we lash out at those closest to us, because we know, we know, that they will still be in our lives, they will still love us.

And so what this is all leading up to is my new resolution to live my life with no regrets. I know that there's nothing I can do to erase the sins of my past, and in a way I wouldn't want to because they've made me the person I am today. Knowing that things I've done, and haven't done, have caused someone pain or heartache has made me a more compassionate, empathetic person. But I'm choosing to tuck those old regrets aside, close them behind a locked door in my mind, and start my life over, as a life lived with no regrets from this moment on. And the reason I am going to do this is because of two incidents that occurred just yesterday. Both times I had the option of standing up, saying something, and I chose not to. And I laid in bed all last night, cursing myself, telling myself to grow some balls, wondering what flaw in my character would allow me to ignore the situation and carry on.

So here's what happened. I was in the mall yesterday, at H&M buying a baby gift for my cousin's child's first birthday. As I was browsing, I could hear a mother loudly berating her daughter, who must have been between 11-13, the age when a young girl is just starting to come into her own, her self-esteem and self-image is a fragile, precious thing that needs encouragement and protection. The daughter was trailing behind her fat pig of a mother with tears in her eyes, whispering to her mother, "Please don't make a big deal of it, I'm sorry! Please calm down!" I could tell she was horrified, mortified, utterly embarrassed of the scene her mother was creating. I could tell the mom was having one of those fits that us moms sometimes have when our kids are driving us crazy in public and we've almost reached our limit. I admit, I've been there before many times. BUT... I would never, ever take it to the extreme that this woman did. When I get upset like that, I either nip the scene in the bud and remove myself and the kids from the situation by leaving the store and dealing with it outside, back in the vehicle. OR, I say to the kids, "We are not doing this now. I am going to ignore you until you calm down, and we will hash this out later." I would never publicly humiliate and embarrass my child, and in doing so, embarrass myself. But this mother didn't care, her loud grating voice echoed throughout the entire store, people's heads were turning to see what was going on, then quickly turning away, probably thinking, "Not my problem, I'm not getting involved." And I can't fault them because I did the same thing. As I was paying for my stuff the mother and daughter left the store, with the daughter openly crying now and the mom still carrying on her rant. When I was done paying, I left the store and started walking towards the mall exit doors, and there were the mom and girl up ahead of me. I could hear the mom saying, "I don't care if that's what you want to buy for the party, its not appropriate and we're NOT getting it!" Her voice was so loud and stringent that it seemed like the entire mall could hear her. When I got right up to them, I did stop for a second, and it flashed through my mind that I should march right up to the old hag and let her have it, "You know what's not appropriate? Publicly berating and humiliating your daughter in front of all these people. Grow up, get some control over yourself, stop verbally abusing your daughter, and take this outside and deal with it like an adult, like a PARENT." But I didn't say that. I carried on and went out to the vehicle. And the regret I have for that is just killing me inside. That poor helpless girl needed someone to step in, to stand up for her and protect her because as the situation was, she couldn't do it for herself. How many times have you or I been in a situation where all we wanted was someone to show they cared, that they would take a stand for us, even if they were a complete stranger? How many times have you seen an angry parent yelling at their child in public and wanted to say something, yet chose not to because it "wasn't our problem"? As our society grows larger, more populated, more fast-paced, we tend to insulate ourselves in our own world and take on the mantra of "every man for himself". And if I ever find myself in a situation where I am the one being loud and angry with my children, I sincerely hope that someone comes up to me and gives me whatfor, knocks me down a peg. Because NO ONE deserves to be treated like that, ever.

The other situation I am regretting happened a couple of hours later. We were all at the park for the baby's birthday and little Ryder was running around like a nut, invading other people's "campsites" (as I call them, you know, areas with picnic tables and firepits). I realized that I had no idea where Ryder was and started looking around, and spotted him two sites over, running toward a burning firepit. There was a man with his two young children sitting on their lawn chairs, eating chips. As Ryder approached them, they all just sat there and watched him running toward the fire. I yelled to Ryder at the top of my lungs, "Ryder, NO! STOP!" and sure enough he did. He looked toward me, as did the dad and the kids, but he was still only like two feet from the fire. I ran over there at full speed, teetering on my stupid heels through the grass. I ran to Ryder and scooped him up in my arms and said to the dad, "He has a fascination with fire. Sorry!" But then I thought about it, and you know what? If that was you or I in that situation, if WE were the one sitting there with our children around a fire, and a little toddler came running toward the fire, wouldn't you jump out of your seat and steer him away from the fire? Wouldn't you say, "No honey, away from the fire, that's owies" or something like that? Wouldn't the parent in you come out and automatically protect the child, no matter that it wasn't your own child? But no. This man just sat there the whole time, eating his chips, watching my baby boy rushing toward the fire pit, and did nothing. HE DID NOTHING. And when I spoke to him, he just stared at me and still said nothing. And now I am filled with the regret that I didn't say to him, "You stupid bonehead, what is wrong with you? My child almost ran straight into your burning firepit and you would have just sat there on your dumb lazy ass and watched him. You are a horrible person, and a horrible parent!" Who cares that his kids were right there, this man needed to be taught a lesson in parenting, and I was the one who should have gave it to him. Man, I'm pissed off at myself right now!

And so there it is. The proverbial straw that broke the camel's back, the turning point in my life. From this moment on, I am choosing to live my life with no regrets, and if that requires me to stand up to someone bigger and scarier than myself, so be it. If it means I have to cause a scene and create a public spectacle of myself, so be it. If it comes to the point where my words cause someone to lash out at me, verbally or physically, I'll have to take that risk, I'll be prepared to hit them right back, with my words or my fist. Because I don't want to be that person any longer, who turns a blind eye and stands by and watches an adult abuse a child, or allows someone to get away with an appalling lack of basic human decency. I don't want to be an old woman, tossing and turning in bed at night with a lifetime's regrets haunting me.

So here's to a new lifetime of tomorrows, to turning over a new leaf, to becoming a stronger, more courageous person who's willing to take a stand and make a difference in someone's life....

NO REGRETS!

I love Mother's Day!

Isn't Mother's Day great? Its the one time of year us moms can get away with lazing about all day, ignoring the hampers of dirty laundry, having the children wait on you hand and foot... its so lovely! But the best thing about Mother's Day is getting the hand-made cards and mementos made by the kids. I told my kids in advance that I absolutely do not want any presents like perfume or jewelry or whatnot, I only want some pretty flowers and hand-made cards. Don't get me wrong, that other stuff is nice, too. But nothing tops that heartwarming feeling you get when you see the precious cards made with their own little hands. Words misspelled, smudgy fingerprints, poems that don't rhyme, stick-men drawings of the family holding hands. Those are the gifts we'll find ourselves digging out in 20 years time, crying and holding the cards to our hearts, remembering....

My three oldest made me beautiful, loving cards, but little Ardan took it one step further and made me a book. I was laying in bed the night before Mother's Day, just being lazy and reading a book while the kids and Hubs watched tv in the livingroom (Ryder was already in bed). Ardan came in and laid down beside me and asked if he could give me my Mother's Day gift from him early. He shyly passed me his book, made with brown construction paper and titled, "I love yoy, Mom" (his spelling) with a big heart above the words. As I read his words on each page and looked at his wonderful drawings, I started to sniffle. Then outright bawl, tears running down my face, as it became clear to me just how much he does love me. You know, as a parent there's many moments of self-doubt, wondering if your kids think you are a good mom. I mean, obviously they love you, they have to, but do they really LOVE you? Do they think you're pretty? Do they think you're cool? In their secret heart, are they kind of embarrassed of you? Do they consider you to be the heart of the family? Reading his book that he made especially for me, I realized that this little boy, my beautiful second child that I often worry about, hoping he doesn't ever feel that "second child syndrome", has a deep and unconditional love for me that surpasses anything I ever expected from him. On the very last page, he had traced his hand and wrote, "Put your hand on this hand." and when I did he said to me, "Now we are holding hands." All I could do was hold him tightly to me, lay my head on his shoulder, and just cry, whispering in between sobs, "I love you, I love you, I love you." He hugged me back just as tightly as I held him and we laid there until I stopped crying. Eventually, that 7-year-old mentality of "hugs are yucky" reasserted itself and he gently detached himself from my arms, and with a huge, satisfied grin on his face he murmured, "Happy Mother's Day, Mom. I love you." and he was out the door. I collapsed back on the bed, holding the card to my heart, remembering all the days of his babyhood and thinking about all the ways this child has brought joy and love to my life, and I started crying again.

I had a truly wonderful Mother's Day. Woke up to the sounds of the household already up and going. Well, actually, the sound of Tyler's loud dry heaves as he changed Ryder's nasty diaper were what dragged me out of my peaceful slumber. "What the....? Oh my god! That's just not right...!" I could have been a nice wife and got up and taken over for him, but the way I figure it, these are character-building moments for him. Right? Haha. I laid in bed just long enough to be sure that the diaper-changing was over, then I got up and went into the kitchen. On the table were my beautiful bouquet of flowers in a red vase and the children's hand-made cards lay beside it. My eyes scanned the room in disbelief, noting the clean counters, the empty sink, the dishwasher running through a load, the swept floor. I couldn't believe it! When I went to bed the night before, the kitchen was a total disaster and I had resigned myself to the fact that I had a huge cleaning job ahead of me in the morning. It was wonderful! Awesome! I looked at Tyler with my eyes wide and jaw hanging to the floor and he just shrugged and blushed a bit. "Happy Mother's Day, babe." Oh, you wonderful man! No wonder I fall more in love with him every day.

Then that gorgeous man of mine cooked us all breakfast, ham and eggs. He did make one little misstep in asking me to make the toast, to which I gently reminded him, "Well, it IS Mother's Day, you should ask one of the kids to make it." Okay, that's a lie. I'm a bitch and this is what I really said, "What?! Its Mother's Day! Forget it buster, I'm going to watch tv. Get Gunnar to do it!" Haha. Hey, this day is supposed to be all about me, ain't no way I'm doing anything resembling work. That's how I see it. And, like I said, I'm a bitch. And proud of it!

Anyway, after breakfast, Hubs and the kids cleaned up and then I got the kids ready to go outside. It was a beautiful warm sunny day and they were itching to get on the tramp. I broke my own "no work" rule and ended up weeding all the dandelion heads. There were so many on the one side of the lawn, I could pick an area, get down on my knees and spend 10 minutes there. It felt so good, breaking a sweat, enjoying the hot sun beating down on my back, listening to the happy squeals and laughs of the kids as they played. Hubs came out and went to work stacking the wood they'd cut a couple days before. After about 45 minutes of eradicating the dandelions, I stopped for a break and set up the slip-and-slide for the kids. They were absolutely hilarious! Ryder made the mistake of accidentally walking through the spray of cold water and ran back to me so fast, he was almost a blur. So funny. We ended up staying outside for almost four hours, only coming back in when Hubs called down that lunch was ready. The kids changed out of their sopping clothes and we went upstairs for a delicious meal of bbq'd smokies and Kraft Dinner.

I must have got a bit too much sun because I could feel a headache coming on, so I went and laid down for a nap. And that wonderful, thoughtful man of mine got all the kids dressed for the colder weather (the sun had disappeared behind clouds and a wind was kicking up) and he loaded the three oldest into the trailer, and with Ryder held tight in front of him, he pulled them behind the quad to the field opposite our house to go hunting for frogs in the slough. I was able to have a peaceful nap for a couple of hours, it was pure bliss.

They got home just as I was waking up and we all hung out in the livingroom, watching a movie while Hubs got supper going. Bbq'd chicken breasts, basmati rice and salad, it was delicious. Afterwards, I got Ryder ready for bed, phoned Gramma Dea so the kids could sing "Happy Mother's Day to you!", then I loaded up No.2 & 3 in the vehicle, and we went to Gramma Hag's for a quick visit. We'd already given her her Mother's Day gift the day before (a pinata stuffed with little gifts) and Lena had asked if she could have a sleepover the next night. At the last minute, Ardan decided he also wanted to sleep over. So the kids watched tv while mom and I talked and talked. Around 9:30 I left and came home to a clean house, the two kids in bed, and a loving hubby very happy and excited to see me.

It was the best Mother's Day I've ever had!

I got a Whole Lotta Love for my Adam (warning: TMI)

Well, Adam got his wish and was able to sing Whole Lotta Love last night. And I got MY wish and got to see that sexy man back in his tight look-at-my-crotch-pants, glam-rock jacket, spiky-emo hair, jewelry and makeup. And OMFG, did you see him when he did the duet with Allison, wearing the STRIPED PANTS?!?! Trust me, the striped pants had their very own thread on the message board, hahaha.

My lucky lucky mom was able to see Robert Plant's original performance of the song, and as she said, "Adam is very, very good, but he's no Robert Plant." Which I totally agree with, I mean who can top RP? NO ONE. He is the God of Rock. But watch the clip below and you'll agree with me that Adam came pretty darn close. I think I had an O watching him sing and dance and hip-thrust and snarl his way through that song. *fanning myself* I was so, so proud of my Adam, he said he was going to go out there and "kill it" and he totally did! I'm coining a new word here, he was "sexceptional". Am I right? I am SO RIGHT.

But hey, get this... There was a thread on the message board from a Glambert who was at the actual performance (lucky bitch! lol) and she said that SO much of his performance was censored for the cameras. When you watch the clip below, you'll see many instances of the camera focusing on just his face, or the drummer, or whatever. And that is because he was SEX personified, in her words. The point in the song where the music stops and you think it might be over (my kids did and immediately started chatting up a storm but I could see it wasn't over, so I was like, "SHUT UP RIGHT NOW OR INSTANT BEDTIME!!"), where he sings, "Woooomaaaannn, you neeeed loooviinnnn'", I guess he tucked the mike stand between his legs and gave a few good thrusts against it (OMG, TO BE THAT MIKESTAND! *faint*). Of course, the camera didn't show that. DAMMIT!! That right there would have inspired like a year's worth of mighty fine dreams, I tell you what. And also, one time he went over to where there were a huge group of girls up by the stage and he started grinding, and the camera skipped away to show the band playing. WHY, why, darn you cameraman!! Damn censors. Its like Elvis on the Ed Sullivan Show all over again. Which, you know what?, is actually kind of neat/weird/enraging, seeing how a lot of people have compared him to Elvis. I can see the resemblance, both in looks, daring and sheer talent, but I think he's like the erotic version of Elvis. I mean, Elvis was one of the best looking men EVER in existence, but Adam takes it to the next level. Same dark hair, dark eyes, dramatic eyebrows, charisma, sexiness. But Adam just takes it to the next level, you know? Everything is more "more" with him.

The contestants weren't able to have their rehearsal because there was a small catastrophe on set (one of the 'American Idol' sign support posts tipped over and lights crashed down). So the camera guys obviously didn't know how Adam would act on stage. But come on, the man practically drips sex, they must have had a clue what he'd get up to. So the camera-panning-away must have been pre-arranged. Hey? AND THAT SUCKS! Although.... it probably saved all us Glambert's sanity by doing that. We would have been convulsing on the floor, screaming in ecstasy. Hahaha! TMI for you guys, yet or what? Sorry but there's just no censoring me when I'm in full-blown Adamania.

I loved loved loved all the judge's opinions and comments, especially Simon's. You know, a little background, Glambert-insider info for ya: Adam has received some criticism on the boards (and most likely in 'real-life' convos, as well) that because he was getting put last each show, that he was getting favoritism or the "lucky" spot. So he went first this time. And people complain that him going first makes it impossible for anyone else to "top" his performance. Which Simon said after his Whole Lotta Love. But I mean come on, its obvs that no matter what order he's put in, he's going to obliterate the memory of anyone else's performance.

Did anyone catch Danny's performance of "Dream On"? First of all, that song is another of the holy ones. If you are going to take on that song, you better have the chops to make that last note at the end. Or else you will be crucified! Like Danny was. Deservedly. In my opinion, THAT is "self-indulgent rubbish". How could he have ever thought, in a million years, that his hoarse, husky voice could hit that high, screaming note... is beyond me. I actually was cringing and covering my ears even before he hit that note, then opening my fingers a bit to better hear if he actually did it, then hastily slamming my hands back on my ears and moaning Why, God why? Doesn't he know the only person capable of hitting that high note and killing it, is Adam? Its friggin' obvs. I was pretty mad that he even tried to tackle that song.

There were so many threads on the blog, prior to the Rock performances, of what people wanted to hear Adam sing this week.Though the opinions varied widely, from Green Day songs, to Radiohead, to Tool, every single list included 'Dream On'. And then to hear that Danny was going to sing it? I mean, we were glad that Adam got his song, but it still felt like a slap in the face. I guarantee you that every Glambert went, "W....T....F...?!

Anyway, you know I could go on and on about Adam, but its time to end this. I'm all hyped up from writing this, remembering my initial reactions, watching the clip again and again, remembering what my Mom said on the phone afterwards. Oh yeah, she called me like right after his performance ended. My first words? "OMG, tell me you saw that?!" (I think those my were first words, right Mom? Something like that.) And she did!! Which was SO cool. With patient amusement, she listened to me hysterically sputter and spout utter nonsense, I'm sure. But she did have a few things to say about my man, which I was dying to respond to in an equal manner, but those rotten kids (No. 2 & 3) were swarming me with their "We wanna go to Gramma's tonight!" over and over. So just one thing I want to say to you Mom and I'm sure you'll remember what you said to inspire this comment, but -- "For him, I would!" Heh heh heh.

So here he is, the one, the only.... ADAM LAMBERT!!

People who drive white cars are lame

What would possess someone to buy a white car? Do they look around at all the cars on the sales lot and turn up their noses at the blue, red, black, green, or gray cars? Is it an unconscious, or conscious, desire to scare the crap out of fellow drivers when they see that white car in the distance? Do they watch us hit the brakes to slow down and laugh hilariously that they tricked us into thinking its a cop car? Do you think they see the deadly glares that are aimed at them after we realize its just a normal person driving a normal car?

Take this morning, for instance. I was coming back from Winks and I could see a white car up ahead, parked on the side of the road. As I was leaving the house earlier, a white Peace Officer car had turned down the street in front of me. So it was realistic to think it was the same cop car parked, waiting for speeders. I was speeding to get home so I hit the brakes, gently of course, so it wasn't so obvious. I pasted my best "friendly and innocent" look on my face as I neared the white car. Then I saw that it was just some lady, parked on the side of the road while she rummaged through her purse. What a dummy! I wonder how many drivers going by her had the same reaction I did; how many people felt that spike of fear and thought, "Ah crap, its a cop!" and slowed to a crawl as they passed her.

Sorry Levi and Trapper, I'm not insulted you or your profession, but you know, you know, that's how people think. Especially us Simcoes, remember how we were raised? Dad jokingly talking about teaching the dogs to "sic" anything wearing yellow-striped pants? I don't think I ever heard a cop referred to as such, instead they were called 'pigs', right? "Oink, oink, I smell bacon!" never got old around our house. (Which was why it was shocking and kinda karmic that both my brothers decided to enter that profession, haha.)

So next time I pass someone in a white car, once I've made sure its not a LEO (Law Enforcement Officer, as my mom and I had to train ourselves to call them once the boys made that career choice), I'm going to give them the most potent, eyes-narrowed, mouth pursed, look of disgust I can muster. Buying a white car, driving it around all naive-like... LAME!!

Adam's going to blow 'em away tonight!

*doing my happy dance* American Idol is on tonight, you know what that means! Mass hysteria, screaming, clapping, dancing around... and that's just from hearing Adam is up next! Haha.

Its Rock week with Slash (guitarist from Guns N Roses and Velvet Revolver) as their mentor. I can't wait to see what everyone chooses to sing, and how Slash will help them to make their performances better. Wonder if Slash will be wearing the top hat? Of course, silly!

Its been mentioned on the message board that Adam really wants to sing Led Zeppelin's 'Whole Lotta Love'. Don't know if that will actually happen, though. Zeppelin is notorious for turning down requests to use their music. Use their music, though, the actual songs with Robert Plant singing. Maybe its different if someone else is going to sing it? Who knows. I could see them making an exception for Adam because he would really do the song justice and not come off as a karaoke performance.

I've been reading a thread on the board with people's opinions on what rock songs he should sing, so I thought I'd add my two cents here, as well. If I had it my way, here are the song choices I'd like to see and hear Adam belt out...

Welcome to the Jungle, Guns N Roses
Sweet Child of Mine, Guns N Roses
Ramble On, Led Zeppelin
The Immigrant Song, Led Zeppelin
Stairway to Heaven, Led Zeppelin (this song is holy, though, don't know if ANYONE should touch it)
Eighteen and Life, Skid Row (think that's the song title)
Pride (In the Name of Love), U2
Fuel, Metallica
Kickstart My Heart, Motley Crue
War Pigs, Black Sabbath
Closer, Nine Inch Nails (just to hear him sing "I want to f*ck you like an animal" - OMG!)
Dream On, Aerosmith (he would kill that high note, in a good way!)
Somebody to Love, Queen
Piece of my Heart, Janis Joplin
Black Hole Sun, Soundgarden
Pretty Noose, Soundgarden
Ballroom Blitz, Sweet

One idea can change the world...

Have you guys ever seen the movie "Pay it Forward" with Kevin Spacey, Helen Hunt and Haley Joel Osmont? It was on tv last night and I made Tyler watch it with me. I've seen it before but its so good, so heart-warming and uplifting and inspirational, that I just had to watch it again. Of course, the unexpected tragic ending puts a damper on the happy feelings, but that just makes it more poignant. The movement that the young boy brings about is so inspiring, and it makes me wonder just how many people out there, in "real" life, have had their own pay-it-forward moment.

I know that I've done things before that are kind of like that, such as helping elderly people walk on the icy sidewalk, putting money in someone's almost-expired parking meter, once I even loaded a sweet little old lady's groceries into her car for her. However, I consider those to be acts of basic human courtesy and decency. Nothing on such a grand scale as the actions carried out in the movie. But I like to think that in my own way I might have inspired those people I helped to create their own act of kindness. You know, the "kindness of strangers" idea, and all that.

So I would like to hear from you, your stories of paying-it-forward, if you have any...

Manic Monday

Oh, its just a fountain of hilarity around here these days...

Tyler was telling us a story about the neighbor's dog Coco, only he called her Chocolate. We giggled and corrected him, No, its Coco. "Oh, okay. Right, sorry. So then Chocolate barked again..."

I was driving home from picking up the kids at school, Gunnar beside me in the passenger seat. He reached down and picked up a football from the floor, "Wow, its a football!" I let out a loud crack of laughter. "I meant to say a CFL football! I mean, obviously I know its a football!" He was mortified.

I asked Lena tonight where the boys were. "They're in their room, playing Gran Leff Wahdo." What? They're playing what? "Mom, you know," she huffed, rolling her eyes at me, "Gran Leff Wahdo? Their new game?" Like I was an idiot. Oh, you mean Grand Theft Auto? "Yeah, that's what I said." Oh, okay. Madly laughing.

Ryder and Lena were having a bath and Ardan decided to join them. Picture three sardines stuffed in a tiny can, lol. Ardan and Lena were goofing around, splashing, which must have annoyed Ryder because he yelled at them, "Dop, you guyyyyy!" We all stopped and stared at him, not sure if we'd heard correctly. Ardan splashed him again to see if he'd repeat it, and he did! "Dop, you guyyyy!"

There's a story Ty's family loves to tell of when he was a boy. His aunt had told him he was found in a cabbage patch and he replied, "I was never a baby, I was a dragon." Well, guess what? Lena told us the other day that when she grows up, she's going to be a dragon. She's never heard that story so what a weirdly cute coincidence is that? Like father, like daughter, I guess. (Her reason for wanting to be a dragon? "Dragons never die." Oh-kayyyy. Am I sensing a need for therapy there? Haha.)

A commercial came on tv the other night. A middle-aged woman was talking to the camera, saying how her and her husband started getting into fishing, then became obsessed with it, fishing whenever they could. Then he got Viagra and now they never go fishing. Ardan turns to me and exclaims, "We need to get Dad some Viagra so he won't be obsessed with fishing all the time!" Poor Tyler just about choked! Hahahaha.

The Rudolph-Effect

Tell me people, answer this eternal question... Is it karma do you think, or freak happenstance, fated catastrophe, or just sheer bad luck on a cosmic-scale... Help me to understand WHY a person gets a monster zit on their nose when they have a hugely important event coming up?

Today is the day that my brothers and I have arranged for my mom's super-fantastic 50th birthday present, which is a series of family portraits of our entire family. This has been in the works since a few weeks before her actual b-day, which was in late March. We had to wait until the weather was nicer, the snow was gone, and coordinate a day when everyone was available. So for months now, we've been looking forward to this day, May 3. We have everything planned, from the location, to what we are all going to wear (black shirts, denim jeans), even the poses.

And then I woke up two days ago with a little red dot on my nose. Right on the tip, to be precise. My first reaction was to freak out, of course, then I tried the various remedies (over-the-counter special creams that supposedly work in a day -- YA RIGHT, a dab of toothpaste on the zit, you name it). Did any of these remedies work? Well, the fact that I am doing this post on this day would be a big, fat NO. If anything, all those things did was aggravate my facial-foe and put it in defense mode, all the bigger to piss you off, it seems to say to me.

So I get to be in all these wonderful pictures with all my family members looking amazing and awesome, and there I will be in each picture with a huge, red zit nose. Just call me Rudolph.

One thing I will say -- whoever invented concealer is my new best friend. But despite its magical properties, you can be darn sure that I won't be in any close-ups today. DOH!!