And When it's Party Time, Like 1999, I Party By Myself Because I'm Such a Special Guy

Just a few hours of two-thousand-and-bite-me-eight left and I thought this would be a great time to soundtrack my favorite songs of the year, which we'll be listening to tonight.

While we eat gluten-free pizza.

Because we party. HARD.

Notable mentions (in no particular order because otherwise my head would explode):

will.i.am, "It's a New Day"

Jack's Mannequin, "The Resolution"

Flight of Conchords, "Business Time"

Chromeo, "Bonafide Lovin'"

Ben Folds featuring Regina Spektor, "You Don't Know Me"

Tokyo Police Club, "Graves"

Jack Johnson, "If I Had Eyes"

Vampire Weekend, "A-Punk"

Weezer, "Pork and Beans"

Katy Perry, "Ur So Gay"

Duffy, "Mercy"

She & Him, "Why Do You Let Me Stay Here?"

Carolina Liar, "I'm Not Over"

Lily Allen, "Fuck You Very Much"

Kings of Leon, "Sex on Fire"

Estelle featuring Kanye West, "American Boy"

Panic at the Disco, "That Green Gentleman"

Lady GaGa Featuring Colby O'Donis, "Just Dance"

Jason Mraz, "I'm Yours"

The Republic of Tigers, "Buildings and Mountains"

Little Big Town, "Fine Line"

Snow Patrol, "Take Back the City"

All American Rejects, "Womanizer"

And now...

10. The Ting-Tings, "Shut Up and Let Me Go"

9. Pinback, "Good to Sea"



8. M.I.A. "Paper Planes"



7. Ludo, "Love Me Dead"




6. Santogold, "LES Artistes"



5. Panic at the Disco, "Nine in the Afternoon"



4. The Black Kids, "I'm Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend"

3. Death Cab for Cutie, "I Will Possess Your Heart"



2. Empire of the Sun, "Walking on a Dream"



1. MGMT, "Electric Feel"

Leave it to me to pick a number one that doesn't have any embedding availability. Argh!

In any case, have a fun and safe new year. And eat your black eyed peas tomorrow!

(And if, for some crazy reason, you think I forgot a song please feel free to give me your list in the comments.)

She Holds a Smile Like Someone Would Hold a Crying Child

We had a lovely Christmas, complete with a huge dinner, gluten-free apple crisp and 3,561 new Lego blocks coming to live at our home.

It's after Christmas that the shit hit the fan.

Friday night we had a horrible storm, which knocked our neighbor's 20+ foot tree into our yard, toppling the honeysuckle trellis and three evergreen bushes.


The storm also blew off a few of our roof shingles, which we now need to figure out how to fix. Fast.

Saturday, Tuckie the Turtle passed away. We're all very sad, Griffin took it really hard. Both boys are dealing with it better today, but it was rough telling them.

Then yesterday both boys woke up with pink eye.

Two thousand and eight has not been the best year. And she's doing her best to be a mean, evil bitch the last few days of her life.

No Crocodiles Or Rhinoceroseses, I Only Like Hippopotamuseses

Yesterday Darwin spilled the beans that I'm getting sea monkeys for Christmas (because the aquasaurs were not enough of a fiasco?).

Today, Griffin's been doing the whole you're gonna be so surprised Mama! and you're gonna love what I got you Mama! and full of happiness and joy.

He was telling me it's red! your favorite color! and was giggley and happy and then Darwin goes and becomes a BUZZKILL and sarcastically proclaims, "Yeah, you got mom Sea Monkeys. So what?"

Obviously, he realizes Festivus is tomorrow and is starting with the Airing of Grievances early.

Three French Hens, Two Turtle Doves and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer

In trying to find the holiday spirit and the holiday energy (damn, where's my holiday energy? Oh yeah, it's sucked up by shoveling snow in single-digit temperatures and trips to visit my dad in the hospital and shivering because damn, my house is cold and drafty), I've found myself turning to the internets for inspiration.

As usual.

Besides my usual drooling over Legos (especially the old Legos that aren't being made anymore) I've been looking up ways to spiffy up gift cards (oh my goodness, the GIFT CARDS and makin' them interesting) and found this pattern and these kick-ass patterns (click on each individual guy to get the print out sheet - there's enough to make a paper army).

And, loving crafts to do with my kids, I found this ornament idea which I'm totally gonna do as soon as I can run to the craft store without risking my life with my shitty tires.

I've also been listening to this:





... and this (which is totally NOT SAFE for kids, nor is it safe with people who lack religion humor):





And in case you can't figure it out, that's Mister Hanky, the Christmas Poo.

I also need to print off some of these gift tags (remembering to give Griffin the maze one - what is it with six year olds and mazes?).

And (yeah, I know -- overkill with the ANDs today) we already have printed off our Droidels, we just need to get out the scissors and tape and get on it.

As soon as we're done decorating the tree, of course.

Ya Feelin' Alright? (Uh-Huh)

My dad made it through the surgery fantastically on Friday. It took an hour or two longer than normal, but that's easy to explain as he's a freakishly large massive giant.

But WOOHOO, my daddy's alive.

He's on some fantastic drugs, alternating between hella funny and a massive asshole. We can all do without the asshole part but whatthefuckever, MY DADDY'S ALIVE.

Crazy shit my dad has said whilst doped up:

"I want to talk to Bob."
"Well, Dad, when you to a real room you can. You don't have a phone in the ICU and they won't let us use a cell phone."
"The roll me over to the window."
"Um... why?"
"So I can hollar at Bob. He's outside waiting on me."

"I wanna golf."
"I know Dad."
"Right now, take me to the range."
"Maybe when you're better."
"No! Right now! I wanna go now, now, now, now!"

"I'm really incoherent."
"Yeah, Dad, I know."
"I mean, really fucking incoherent."
"Yeah, Dad. I know."
"What are we talking about again?"
::pause::
"God damn, I'm really incoherent."
"Really? I haven't noticed Dad."

I Can Love How I Like if I Want it, Whatever Keeps Me High

When we last heard from Sir Printus he had just arrived home.


"Honey! I'm ho-ome!"

"In the kitchen, dear."


"What you doing sweetheart?"

"Just tenderizing the meat. You have a rough day hon?"

"Yeah, it was crazy."

::whack, whack:: "Um, hmm, I'm listening... let me go put this away...


"I do believe I need my knife next.."



"Say, is that Rolf hiding back there?"

"What, no, no - why would you ask -"

"Yes," ::sigh:: "Printus, it's me."

"But, what are you - ooooohhhh, I see."

"Please don't tell Emmanuel."

"Are you cra-"

::knock, knock::


"Emmanuel."

"Printus. Is Rolf here?"

"You have impeccable timing. How was your day?"

"You know, same old, same old. Took some practice shots for next week's invasion."


"May I come in and see Rolf now?"

"Um, hi Emmanuel. How'd you know I'd be here?"

"You've been here every damn day this week and I want to know what's going on."

"Well, um.."

"Rolf. Now."

"Okay, FINE. Sylvester and I are in love. We're leaving you both."


"You. Fucking. Bitch. After everything I've done for you! After forgiving your little indescression with Gunther! You turn around and have an affair with Rolf? You are fucking DEAD, do you understand me? DEAD."

::knock, knock::

Hello?


"Hi, it's Gunter. I was just heading into town for a pint..."

And You May Ask Yourself - Well... How Did I Get Here?

You know, it's one thing for the day to fly by when it's summer and I have sunlight until at least 6pm. But this getting-dark-at-four-o'clock-mess is plain bullshit.


At this rate, I'll never get the Lego Advent calendar documented. God, Laura, don't say shit like that. Everyone's gonna start callin' you Scrooge.

Legos! Tomorrow! Or string me up by my toes and beat me like a pinata!

Running, Running as Fast as We Can

Winter Solstice just threw up all over my living room.


And didn't clean up her own mess.

So! We have a tree! Whee! And today, I PUT UP LIGHTS FOR WOE, I AM AWESOME.

Sorry. I'm an only child. I need applause for every little accomplishment I make.

So my dad is having his big-ass surgery Friday. I am doing my best to act Normal and Keep My Shit Together but I keep making inappropriate jokes about him dying TO MENTALLY PREPARE MYSELF. Not that I want him to kick it, and damn that would suck donkey balls if that happened, but if I can't make a joke about something and laugh at it then I don't cope at all and hey, AT LEAST I'M COPING A LITTLE WITH THE REALLY BAD JOKES.

And yes, that's exactly why I haven't started my December Daily album. If my dad kicks it, there's no way I'm going to want to be all HOLIDAY CHEER in a scrapbook right now.

So Com'on Down and Do What You Gotta Do

Hello.


I am Sir Printus. Lord Griffin hath bestowed upon me a proper name.

Apparently "Little Fuckwad" is improper.

Come, let me take you to my lair.


Welcome to Slublumpblumpress. Slablahblahblabeeze.

Spelling and grammer are particular around here, especially when working with Lord Darwin.


First, please do feel comfortably in taking off your armor, hat and put away your dagger. As you can see, I have a place to put all my shit.

Why are you looking at me like that? Oh, are you worried about my joust? Silly you, I must carry it around to protect you.

Yeah, to protect you....

Wouldn't it be Good if We Could Live Without a Care

My in-laws are crazy. Particularly, my father-in-law. (Hi Ray!)

Whenever they come into town, he wants projects. Every time he visits, he insists the project list increases.

He met his match with me this weekend.

Aaron and Ray (and the boys "helped" and much a leaf jumpers can) raked the whole yard and trimmed a bunch of bushes on Friday. Then, Friday night they installed the new range hood (so... we only went without ventilation for less than two months -- that's damn impressive for us). Aaron's mom (Hi Bev!) (yes, my in-laws found mah blahg) and I shopped.

Saturday Aaron and Ray ripped the carpet out of the entry room. Given that I've been wanting to do this for over two year (since I painted the damn room), you can now understand why I'm so impressed it "only" took us two months to install a range hood.


If they weren't made of asbestos, covered in old glue and splattered with paint I might have left what we found.

But, you know, it was made of asbestos, covered in old glue and splattered with paint.

And so after patching and super-cold temperatures (because the room use to be a breeze-way) (and because I try to fancy it up a bit by calling it the "entry room" even though what I should call it is "that piece of shit room that's not insulated properly"), Ray and I layed (lied? stupid English language) the new floor on Sunday.


Who's a pretty floor? Who's a pretty floor? You are! You are!

And I have to say, two days later and I'm still hella sore. I can barely lift my hands over my head and if I had a cane I'd be using it to walk around. And if I had access to one of those chair thingamaboppers that lifted your ass up for you I'd totally be living in that right now too.

Yeouch.

And Ray was really nice about indulging me in setting the floor on the diagonal. Everyone thought I was crazy.

Which, really, I don't know why they're just coming to that conclusion now.

Speaking of me and my crazy... we started the Advent Calendar last night!


What's a good name for a knight?

Inside You the Time Moves and She Don't Fade

We had a crazy holiday weekend -- Aaron's parents came down from Michigan and got lots done. Lots.


Like lots of game playing. And if you haven't played Mexican Train I strongly urge you to. I can't believe we have to wait till Christmas morning to get our own set. Hmph.

Lots more got done -- but more on that tomorrow.

I have a Lego Advent Calendar to go dig out of the basement. Squee!

Oh -- yes. I forgot. Due to not wanting my ass to get sued, I am no longer doing musical roundups. It's fucking ridiculous but you know what? I like clothes. And food. And a roof over my head. Call me selfish, ohfuckingwell.

So, if you're wondering what I'm listening to feel free to leave a comment (include your email addy!) or email me.

In the meantime, ahem, I am enjoying these....

Jack's Mannequin


will.i.am [love, love, love, this is the BESTEST SONG]

All American Rejects


and Flight of the Conchords

It's Business, it's Business Time

It's not quite yet Noon and I have four dozen gluten-free, dairy-free chocolate chip cookies completed (good job, self, for not eating too much cookie dough - good job!) and a gluten-free pecan pie baked and cooling.

Supposedly (and that's a HUGE supposedly) bourbon is gluten-free, where as whiskey is not (they add mash back in after the distilling process). This shouldn't matter much, I'm not much of a pecan pie fan anyway - but just in case, I used straight bourbon.


Aaron's been a punk through this whole getting-ready-for-Thanksgiving-dinner experience. He keeps trying to steal the food... the other day I had to give him a 20 minute explanation of why he couldn't eat this sausage because it's for the dressing. Then this morning I caught him trying to sneak sweet potatoes in his lunch even though yesterday I plainly told him I didn't think I had enough sweet potatoes for Thanksgiving dinner.

If he wasn't so damn good at cleaning the kitchen I would have gotten my frying pan down right then and there.

And now, I'm off to go make a pumpkin pie, orange cranberry bread, hard boil 15 eggs, assemble the dressing, make the veggie dip and assemble the sweet potato casserole.

And then I'm gonna sit in the corner and suck my thumb. Holy hell.

Propped Me Up on the table Like a Mannequin

"Mommy? Can you draw a picture of me? Please?"

"Why don't you do that yourself Dar?"

"Please? Please?"

"Okay."

"Here you go. Now, draw my face.... don't forget my hair! And my ears... good job Mommy! Now, don't forget my neck and my body... and my arms... and my legs... and don't forget my penis, Mommy! MY PENIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PART!"

Kick 'Em Right in the Face

I keep waiting to sigh a big breathe of relief, but it's just not coming.

My dad's doing okay, he's still in the hospital. Supposedly he's being released today and will have his surgery in two weeks or so.

He has 100% blockage in one of his arteries. Holy fuck. And they are just leaving it there for weeks. Double holy fuck.

Apparently when you have a heart attack, it takes seven to ten days for all the damage to occur, then it takes about another 15 days for the heart to have repaired all it can. The doctors have discovered it's better to wait for this process to complete itself before going in and having the quadruple-bypass surgery. Which totally makes sense scientifically.

Emotionally, though, I want to go around and pop doctors on the head and yell FIX MY FUCKING DAD ALREADY, JESUS CHRIST.

And I Thought That I Was Strong

All in 24 hours.

I made a baby blanket

Eleven days of Darwin being sick, took him to the doctor: raging ear infection

Aaron in Canada

My dad went to the doctor, then admitted in the hospital: needs a stint or open heart surgery scheduling quadruple-bypass surgery

Researching how to do a will and power of attorney

Change is dizzying

And it Never Feels Out of Place

Two kids, home sick all day.

Multiple times a day:

"Go lie down."

"Go lie down."

"Go lie down!"

"Go. Lie. Down."

"Go lie down."

Argh.

"Go lie down, NOW."


Did you know The Magic School Bus is a tv show as well? I did not know that. Idiot me, I thought it was a series of books.

(Edward! You're weak for leaving!)

So The Magic School Bus progressed into a science show about dinosaurs. Which led into a show above a talking dinosaur with human friends and WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? Are those writers from Kansas? Suspend reality my ass.

And then, AND THEN, there's a commercial advertising buying an Arabian horse. Because, when you're in the market to buy a horse, make sure it's Arabian. Seriously? Who the fuck would be in the market of buying a horse would also be watching television in the middle of the day? Someone needs to fire a media buyer.

I think the boys' sickie germs are affecting my brain.

You Wanted Arts and Crafts, How's This for Arts and Crafts? (That's Right!)

This weekend I escaped (es-cop-ee) (sorry, bad Finding Nemo joke) from the boys and got to go to a big scrap night with a new friend.

(A new friend I'm kinda-sorta stalking. Shhhh. Don't tell.)

I completed two pages and spent the majority of my time making this...


... a December book to fill as the month goes on. Completely inspired by Ali's but many, many levels of less awesomeness (could a person be more perfect?).

So it's ready to go. I have a pile of embellishments to use and it's my personal goal to have one completed album this year and no, I don't care what size it is as long as it's DONE. And my second goal is for to hold more pictures than just Lego Advent Calendar pictures. But that's a lofty goal right there.

Weighed Down with Words too Over-Dramatic

Target failed me today.

Failed!

Failed!

Failed!

They were completely sold out of New Moon.

Fail!

Fail!

Fail!

So I had to suffer until I got to a bookstore. Where I also purchased Toni Morrison's new book to balance out my reading karma.

Ahem.

I'll get to it as soon as I'm done with New Moon.

Maybe.

Maybe after I get down with the whole series.

Yeah, that sound better.

Speaking of the whole series, ahem, did you know that Stephanie Meyer published on the interweb her 12 chapters of Midnight Sun after it was "leaked." So, like, you can go read that right now.

Not that that's what I'm doing or anything.

Feels Like I'm Swimmin' Upstream

Darwin got sick last week. Which meant I have been dealing with icky bodily fluids for days.

Really icky bodily fluids.


Here's to hoping some fresh air did him good.

Also, I read Twilight in less than two days. Not quite sure how that happened, but now I have to get myself to the bookstore. I now totally understand why teenage boys feel like they can't keep up with Edward. It's because they can't.

This Precious Time, When Time is New

Last night I cried like a big baby, with fat tears rolling down my face and splashing on my shirt. I am so proud.

And this autumn has been supremely awesome...


I love the view out my kitchen window.

And just to prove life doesn't only involve politics and participating in blog events, look what Griffin did yesterday...


I suppose this time I should be proud he remembered his "t" and didn't put in a "b" -- right?

I'm a mean, mean mommy for making him play outside in the nice weather. Someone call Social Services, that crazy lady is keeping Griffin from his Legos.

I'm Blue (Da Ba Dee Da Ba Die)

I gave in to Aaron's whining on Saturday. We early-voted. It only took an hour and half.

(Apparently, I have super-low standards after attending the caucus.)


Do you have your sticker? You should. Everyone should be wearing a sticker today. It's like a four-year-old's version of a wet dream come to life.

Yeah. Okay. That was kinda inappropriate.

As for my kitchen?


Coffee cake muffins. Mmmm, these are good. I just replaced the flour with the same amount of gluten-free flour and added 2 teaspoons of xantham gum to the batter.

Now, go vote.

So I Try Living in the Moment, 'Till the Moment it Just Froze

My head is spinning... Halloween is over and the winter holidays are quickly approaching (despite it being sunny and 77 degrees outside); I was offered (and accepted) a promotion at work last week; Aaron arrived home safely in time for the weekend, but maybe leaving again soon. My bedroom (hell, my entire house) is an ungodly mess; I feel lucky to have a path to the bed.

So I'm gonna be in denial and play along with Toni this week. Kitchen Poetry. Doesn't that sound lovely?

We do the vast majority of our living in the kitchen -- right now, I'm click-click-clicking away on the laptop at the kitchen table. Waiting for the butter to be ready for muffins. (Mmmm, muffins.)


I'm getting more and more old-school in the kitchen as time wears on. Not only do we no longer have a microwave in the house, I despise prepackaged lettuce (carrots and spinach are okay - but lettuce? blech) and salad spinners (too damn bulky for my itty bitty kitchen).

So you'll often find a big bowl of greens soaking, then I lay them out on a towel, bunch it up and spin in around outside (centrifugal force at it's best -- it waters my rosebushes too). Then a quick dry-off inside, packaged in a bag with a few damp paper towels and I have salad until we eat it up.

So Get a Witch's Shawl on, A Broomstick You Can Crawl on

I have a date.


With Spiderman and Boba Fett.


Okay. Maybe not the real ones -- these versions are much better.

This Age of Industry, for Today I'll Let it Go

Yesterday was one hell of a day, beginning with a visit to the boys' dentist.

Now, I will say the boys have finally gotten to the point where they have their shit together while we're there, no more screaming and thrashing around. No more needing four techs to each hold down an appendage to get flossed. We're doing good.

Then (then! OH MY HELL, THEN!) the lady goes and effects Darwin's gag reflex and guess what happens...

Yep.

Vomit.

Everywhere.

In between his jacket and shirt, in between his shirt and body. Down his back. In his pants. Oh my hell.

Then, I find out that Griffin has nine cavities. For those of you in the back: NINE CAVITIES. Oh my fucking God, does he even have nine teeth to have cavities in?!

Apparently so.

His adult molars coming in over his baby molars are already cavities. The dentist said this is due to bad genetics. VERY BAD GENETICS.

Given I didn't have my first cavity way into my 20s, guess who I'm blaming this one on.

I'm a city girl, but I've heard there's a saying - something about always look at it's teeth before you buy a horse. Apparently, YOU NEED TO THAT FOR HUSBANDS TOO.

Your Point of View is Medieval

I'm on the fence with early voting. Normally that's what we do but meh, come on... it's quite the hassle. Usually I'm in a longer line there than when I do go to my normally scheduled voting locations.

Plus, I really like slapping that sticker on my collar that very moment.

Instant gratification rocks.

Here's a nice little social commentary on life...

In 2000...



And today...



Seven days to go. Anyone else ready?

I Took the Good Times, I'll Take the Bad Times

My grandma has been in the hospital for over a week now. Mentioning this to people makes them say "Oh!" and tilt their head in concern, with worry, "What can I do to help you?"

Maybe it's because my mom died when she was 28 and I've dealt with one of the hardest loses you can deal with so early in my life. Maybe it's because my grandma has pretty much shut me out for the past ten years, refusing me to see her unless at family gatherings (which has added up to about four times in the past 10 years). Maybe it's because I've never had a "close" relationship with her to begin with. Maybe it's because my grandma is 84 years old, has had nine children, 21 grandchildren and four great-grandchildren, she's had a lot of living.

I'm in no way traumatized by my grandma teetering on that brink - in that space with you don't know what the outcome will be.

My biggest concern, of course, is her getting proper medical treatment and not being in pain. Have the hospital hook her up to IVs if she's not eating. Making sure the oxygen line isn't poking her nose. Her neck having the proper support.

The past week has been filled of frantic phone calls with family members. Changing appointments and canceling commitments. Visiting the hospital.

The sensible person in me just wants a time-line. A list of expectations. To know what to do, when to do it and who needs to get it done.

I always cope best with a plan.

With the Voltage Running Through Her Skin

I wish I could make deals with my body. Like, okay, you can have a migraine for a day but you have to wait till next Tuesday, 'kay? Because having it jump up and bite me in the ass does no one any good. (And neither does that bitter-cold wind we're having too.)

So, yeah, hello high stress levels. Four nights down, eight more to go. I'm a one-third through this trip. Argh.

Griffin's out of school today and tomorrow for parent-teacher conferences.


I went to his this morning, his teacher loves him. He has outstanding grades. The only slightly-negative thing on his report card was from his art teacher. Apparently, he's not "doing" his art right - this isn't the first of this I've heard. Griffin doesn't like art class because his art teacher tell him he's doing it wrong. To which I always tell Griffin, "Work on your art, do not talk to others. Hold you scissors properly. Use the materials you teacher wants you to use - but ultimately you can't do art wrong." What a fucking dumbass.

I'm blaming my headache on her.

Everybody Gets There and Everybody Gets Their Way

I love being an observer. I think that's why I became permanently attached to a camera when I was 11. Except that one time I was taking pictures and my teacher took my camera and threw it away.

I rescued it at recess.

I had to opportunity to hang out at Preschool one day last week, to see how their day goes.

I need to learn those teacher's mad time management skills, yo.


Outside, at recess. Determining who was being which princess and who was which prince car from Cars.

It was decided I was Princess Jasmine. "Because of your dark hair and dark tan!" Thanks for the stereotype, sista.

It's a Mess, it's a Start

I'm unhinged.

Aaron's been out of town more days this month than he's been home. He left yesterday and will be gone the rest of the month.

I know my friends get squeamish when I mention he's gone and I totally respect that but holyfuckingshit, come on, this is ridiculous.

So. Darwin's spent the whole day in jammies because I'm just not up for the fight. I had little to feed myself for lunch so I had tea and almonds. Our bedroom is an ungodly mess, hell the whole house is an ungodly mess. Griffin's upstairs throwing a fit because I sent him to his room. For lying. Over a stupid carrot on the floor. WHY WOULD YOU LIE ABOUT A CARROT ON THE FLOOR? Jesus Christ, get it through your thick skull already - NO LYING. Is it really all that damn difficult?

So... I'm trying to breathe. Trying to find a groove that works for all of us.

Single parenting sucks ass.

Oh We're Still the Greatest, the Greatest

After all the lovely comments about my Lego jack o-lantern, I spent my morning searching for something appropriate to use in my banner for November. And found this:

(All images come from lego.com)
(Please do not sue me. I love you. And I'm sure somehow over the past few years I've driven up your sales. )

::heart thumping::

And then Lego said they wouldn't sell it to me. Damn it!

So then I decided to download the instructions so I could build it with what we have around the house.

Well, they wouldn't give that to me either.

So I called them.

And acted really nice.

And they said they'd email me the instructions -- SCORE!

Of course, while he was looking into doing that, I did a search for their advent calendars this year. So far, I've only seen the City calendar and we've been doing that one for about five years now. Between the jewel thief and the crazy fire chief who like to saw everything, I'm kinda burnt out on the City advent calendar.

And my search resulted in this:


Oh HELLS YEAH, a Castle advent calendar. Which contains...


and...


I think she's my new hero. Can I be her for Halloween? And...


She looks like me when a mouse sneaked into my house!

::swoon::

So I asked the Lego guy how come this advent calendar isn't for sale. You know what he said? "Oh, ma'am, that's only available to the grown-up club."

THERE'S A GROWN-UP LEGO CLUB?!

You know what that nice man did? HE LET ME BUY ONE.

So... now I'm all sure you all are more than excited for December first to come, as THIS YEAR I'll be documenting the Lego Castle Advent Calendar! Whee!

We Need Somebody Great to Get us Back On the Track

We're a pretty political family - well, I mean, the boys aren't but Aaron and I are. So maybe we're a pretty political couple.

Howeverthehell you want to say it, we're political.

And I'm well known for getting into heated debates with people and calling them "fucking idiots" to their face (hi Dad!).

So, you know, to keep the peace around here I try to not go on tirades of what I think because I do believe that the majority of people here are well-educated, self-thinkers and have the right to their own opinions.

But let me just say, I'm so damn proud of how my street is lookin' lately.


Isn't this particular 2008 Autumn glorious?

I'm Tense and Nervous and I Can't Relax

On any given day, this is how our kitchen table looks.


That's like, normal, right?

Some Things You Can Never Choose, Even if You Try

We got the microwave out yesterday! And it's a big mess of ickiness, I'll post a picture after I've adequately scrubbed. Because even after scrubbing it's only gonna downgrade to "disgusting" so you won't be disappointed.

I expect lots of pointing and laughter.

So in my quest to not only banish Mommy Guilt, I'm also working on getting my crafting mojo back.


Not much, but it's amazing how much a little bit of crafting makes me feel better. Now if I can just continue it...

Been Workin' So Hard, Keep Punchin' My Card

The past few weeks have been hectic for me, work done plumb got crazy on me. Don't get me wrong, it's a very good thing - just busy.

And ::ahem:: if you are so interested, yes, the network is open again.

But all this workworkworkin' has made me slide on my upkeeping of the house and I think my OCD is starting to give me nervous ticks.

So today I've been trying to catch up and I've thoroughly have managed to disgust myself. No, not just with the dry crunchy dry cereal leftovers on the floor (although I really should only allow Darwin snacks at the table, geesh), not the gray haze on all my furniture (but still, ewwwww), not the five loads of laundry to put away and the eight loads to be washed (do they make robots for that yet? laundry-put-awayers?) but what REALLY sent me over the edge was a pan of leftover cornbread.

Cornbread that I thought was about a week old.

I'm guessing I have seriously lost all account of the passage of time because goddamn was that ever disgusting. Green and brown and black and red and cobwebby things and HOLY CRAP THE SMELL. ::gag::

And yes, I did attack that mess. As well as the laundry. But the floors and dust? Meh. That can wait.

Instead I've been listening to Darwin sing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" and "The Roof is On Fire" all day. I also watched Griffin plan, make and test a zip-line.


We've kicked the soccer ball around outside, watched a movie, made a snack together.

And reminding myself why I work so much - to take care of them. And to remind the stupid Mommy Guilt to shut the fuck up already.

And Boy You Got it, So Wrong

We were gettin' ready to go to Darwin's preschool Open House the other night, I was standing in the kitchen cleaning Dar's glasses for him. As is usual protocol, he starting discussion his blind eye.

What can I say? It's one of his favorite topics.

(Over-indulgent self-centric tendencies. I have no clue where he gets that. Hmmm.)

So, we did the "when you close your seeing eye what do you see?" "black" "does your eye hurt?" "nope." Okay, good. Also? SUCK ON THAT doctors who said it would ruin his vision and cause him pain forever, sit and spin.

So I changed the subject and started regurgitating (dude, I spelled that right on the FIRST TRY!) what preschool newsletter said to be "on the lookout" around the room.

"Will you show me your play area?"

"Yeah!"

"Puzzles?"

"Yeah!"

"You're self-portrait?"

"Yeah!"

"Did you put your blue glasses on yourself in your portrait?"

"Yeah!"

To which Griffin chimed in, "Dar, I really hope you didn't draw a picture of me with blue glasses on."

Oh, the self-absorbed love runs deep in our family.

We got to preschool and got the grand tour. Then Darwin took us over to his self-portrait.


"Isn't it beautiful Mommy?"

"It sure it. But it says it's a rainbow."

"Yeah, I know. I forgot to put blue glasses on it. Oops!"

I Think You'll Get Used to it

After nearly a week of debating after our microwave bursting into a pathetic dismal motherfuckin' huge flame of nastiness, we've come to a conclusion.

We're not getting a microwave replacement.

Hells no.

Surely, no one would expect me to get an attached-to-my- house-let-me-climb-over-you-and-put-my-boobies-in-the-flames microwave again. No thanks. I like my boobies too much.

Instead, we're going old-school. We're getting a hood range.

Hells yeah.

Now, in order to have Aaron agree to this, I had to promise a microwave in the basement. For emergencies. Like, not being able to wait on the tea kettle for hot water. ::eye roll::

Also, we have to figure out what to do with the back splash. My vote (and it's going my way) is to paint it white if it's not tiled. Aaron wants to put up contact paper.

Can I get a "hells no" to that?

We Are Always Running for the Thrill of it, Thrill of it

It's no secret that pumpkin patch day is my favoritest day of the year. Although, this year I was a little bit surprised because we were going - late in the day.


Aaron likes to go before we've had a frost to kill the vines (so, he got his wish).

I like to go when it's not dusty (I did not get my wish).


And the kids had a blast.



There's only so many words necessary when discussing the awesomeness that is the pumpkin patch.

We Don't Need No Water

Two-thousand and eight will forever be known as The Year My House Revolted Against Me.

On Wednesday I was heating up some lunch and talking on the phone (ooooohhhh, multitasking) when all of the sudden plumes of smoke was coming out of the microwave.

"Uh, what the fuck?"

Angelina: "What?"

"Um.... my microwave is on fire?"

"YOU MICROWAVE IS ON FIRE?"

"Uh, yeah. It's smoking, and hey - look at that. It's orange inside."

"OPEN YOUR WINDOWS."

"Shouldn't I get my camera?"

"OPEN YOUR WINDOWS. THEN UNPLUG YOUR MICROWAVE."

"I can't unplug it. And all my windows and painted shut."

"OPEN YOUR DOORS, LAURA. GET OUT OF THE HOUSE."

"But it's contained..."

"OPEN YOUR WINDOWS AND DOORS."

"Okay, okay, I'm opening them."

"THEN UNPLUG IT." (Seriously, she was freaking out way more than I was.)

"I can't. It's plugged behind it - wait. Maybe it's plugged on top of the cabinet. Let me move my cocoas."

"UNPLUG IT, LAURA."

"Okay, okay, I am. Just did. Wait. Now the exhaust fan isn't working."

"THAT'S BECAUSE YOU UNPLUGGED YOUR MICROWAVE."

It's nice to have friends that dumb it down for you.

You know, I could have gotten a kitchen remodel out of the deal. But noooooooooooooo, I had to go and be responsible and not let my whole house catch on fire. The cabinets didn't even get any smoke damage and smell of burnt rubbery electronics has almost dissipated from the house.

And now I have to convince Aaron to install a new microwave. I told him we don't even need one - a range hood would be dandy, thanks. He's not going for it. Something about wanting instantly hot water or something. Because he's American and expects everything now, now, now.

Hello, Darwin's new favorite song...
where's my damn parenting award?

You Make Me Feel Like I am Home Again

I just did a frantic search around my house -- apparently, we don't have any prints from our wedding. 'Cuz, you know, today is our eighth anniversary and I was going to put a picture up and write about how I couldn't have imagined loving someone this much, nor could I have imagined having to resist beating the shit out of someone with a frying pan either. BUT NO PHOTOS.

What the fuck? I have NO pictures of my wedding? Just one engagement picture.

Oh my hell. Good thing I bought the negatives. GUESS WHAT I WANNA DO. Argh.

Good thing I've got some chocolate cupcakes baked. Now, just to make some caramel buttercream and I'll have something to drown my sorrows in.

I'm Just a Little Bit Caught in the Middle

It's often the weekends when we have little plans other than relaxation that life decides to jump up and bite us in the ass.

You suffer from that too, right?

Aaron and Griffin spent the weekend out sicking each other. Like some damn competition. Then Darwin goes and raises the bar by slipping in the hallway and splitting his chin open. Which required a trip to the ER. For stitches. Four stitches. And a diagnosis of a half-an-inch-deep laceration. And a really strong chin bone.


Aaron took it all way worse than anyone else with a gigantic freakout over the the blood! the blood! oh my god, the blood! Which made me realize: he's never been home during a serious (or even semi-serious) accident. Always at work and just meets us at the hospital. Welcome to my world buddy.

Darwin's fine. I promised him new Legos if he managed to keep his shit together, which he did. He did deep breathes and quizzed addition problems during the stitching, he was quite the trooper (and rewarded with new Legos yesterday - Indiana Jones ones because we couldn't find a Batman set with Batman in it for less than 50 bucks). We just have to keep it clean and covered and blah, blah, blah.

The biggest issue is coming up with a better story to impress the ladies with. "Slipping on dirty laundry while running in the hallway and then falling" is not a very badass story.

I Never Thought This Day Would End

It's been a hectic day. A work-gymnastic-pharmacy-grocery store-work some more kinda day. Made better by constant repeats of Cure songs.

Tuckie continues to be a shithead. I got so desperate today, I dunked him in water and tried to force feed him. He can keep his mouth shut for a super-long time.

Mwahahahahahahaha, I ignoring you! Mwahahahahahah!

So, I'm tormenting him with sulfa baths.

I have officially decided that a puppy is way fucking easier than a turtle, gimme one. My friend even feeds her dog a gluten-free diet and she doesn't make any of his food. Aaron is this close to not having anymore excuses.

Tuckie went through a similar stage last fall, so I'm hoping his shitheadiness gets better soon. Because I cannot handle work, school, preschool, soccer, gymnastics, cooking, cleaning, being a mother, being a wife, TRYING TO HAVE MY OWN DAMN HOBBIES and worry about a temperamental turtle all the time.

Gee. That makes me sound like a bitch.

So, obviously, the best solution for my situation is for Tuckie to Get Over His Issues Already, Damn.

Just a Slob Like One of Us

On the drive home from preschool today, Darwin was singing "God is good, God is great, thank you for feeding us," and BAM just like that: I remembered Darwin goes to a Christian preschool.

When Griffin was in preschool, he never gave the whole thanking-God-for-food thing much thought, so I didn't either. And then when Christmas came around, Griffin thought it was kinda odd they celebrated baby Jesus and asked me if we believed in Jesus and I said the story was true, but I don't worship Jesus. His reply? "Oh good!"

So in being as religiously diplomatic I can be (because I want my kids to make up their own minds with as little of my overbearance as possible), I asked Darwin what he thought about God just now, after he set up a tea party for Legos and was singing the song again.

"Hey Darwin, can you sing that song to me?"

"God is good, God is great, thank you for feeding us."

"What do you think about God?"

"God is good?"

"Is that what you think or what preschool taught you?"

"What preschool taught me."

"Okay. What do you think?"

"God is... God is... I don't know. What do you think Mommy?"

"I think God is the same as Universe, Destiny and Mother Nature."

"Mother Nature?!"

"Yep."

"I LOVE Mother Nature! Mother Nature is cool!"

"Why?"

"Because Mother Nature takes care of us and give us food and gives animals homes."

"Those are very good reasons Dar."

"Thanks! I go play Legos with Griff now."

You know, in actuality it's all the same. There's no differences, just labels.

I Ain't Freakin', I Ain't Fakin' This

Standing outside preschool today I (somehow) got into a conversation about music.

Yeah, go figure.

So the Other Mom was all "oh, I get to listen to music I like now." And I was, of course, all "What the fuck you talkin' about?" But only without the fuck because we live in Kansas.

And she was all "oh, don't you get tired of listening to kiddie music?"

And I just stood there and blinked erratically and tilted my head to the side like she was speaking Plutoanean.

"Um... we don't listen to 'kiddie music.'"

"Oh, sure you do. Lori Berkner."

"No."

"Oh, you don't know who she is?"

"Oh, I know who she is. She's great when my kids are sick and they watch her video in between Little Bill and Dora. But no, we don't have any of her CDs."

"Oh, so you listen to the Disney channel?"

"Um, no. We listen to The Buzz [the local alternative station]."

And, of course, now she's the one blinking erratically.

So what if my kids like alternative rock? Griffin's really into Kings of Leon right now, Darwin loves The Ting Tings.



That's not bad parenting. Bad parenting is listening to music you don't like and that's not instilling a love of music to your kids. If you can't stand what you're listening to with your kids, what's the point? How is that teaching your children an appreciate of something - not just music, but art, design, fashion - or anything for that matter?

Don't people talk about such things? Surely I'm not the only freakish mother on this earth that talks about music and listens to music a lot - and I ask my kids their opinion.

And guess what! THEY HAVE OPINIONS. Opinions about all sorts of stuff, like Griffin DOES NOT like abstract art. Not at all. He thinks people got lazy and threw some paint on the canvas. And he's entitled to his opinion. And I love that my kids have opinions.

And I really appreciate the fact that my boys ask for the Jonas Brothers be to turned off and Deathcab for Cutie to be turned on.

So, of course, after I mentioned the alternative rock station she was all "Okay! Bye!" which really shouldn't be all that surprising. But I can't help but wonder, does she even know what she enjoys?

I've Had a Little Bit Too Much, Much

I love Autumn.

Later, summer (sucka!) -- I'll be seeing you in nine months. It's been great (not really, but I'm cordial God damn it).

Summer's gone, time for soccer, football, pumpkins and non-crispy grass.


It's also time for pumpkin pasta, apple muffins and chili (except for the fact that Aaron spilled his all over the couch and floor last night; had I thought of it quick enough I wouldn't have scrubbed the holy hell out of the carpet so that I could FINALLY RIP IT UP and expose the hardwood floors, damn it).

Welcome Autumn, so glad you're here.

Wanna Forget How to Remember

I called our hair-cuttin'-lady today to make appointments for the boys to get trimmed up tomorrow. I've been seeing the same lady for over 15 years now, she has a daughter a year younger than me and a son a few years younger.

Today when I called, I was told her son-in-law was killed Friday in a motorcycle accident. He and his wife have four kids and one on the way.

I'm shocked. I'm crying -- this hits way too close to home. My mom died when I was four, Aaron's father passed away before he was born. We both know what it's like to be in those kids' shoes, to be raised without one of the most influential people in your lives.

I don't ask this often, but if you pray or send out thoughts to people -- could you do that for them please? I cannot even comprehend what that family is going through, they need all the positive help they can get.

We've Got the Vision

At Preschool...

Kid #1: "Look Mommy! I got a piece of shiny paper!"

Kid #2: "My paper is a mirror!"

Kid #3: "Mom! I have silver-y paper!"

Darwin: "Mommy! I have a piece of paper that has a reflective surface!"

Open Up Your Plans and Damn You're Free

Everytime we get some free time around here (meaning: Aaron's home during daylight and not spending four God-forsaken hours to mow the yard), instead of running to the sewing area and working on the two three baby blankets I need to make and work on the quilt (um, yeah, hi, over-analyzing it, I know) I've been running to the kitchen instead.

To bake.

It's addicting.

I thought my next perfected gluten-free recipe would be brownies. Turns out, no, notsomuch. Can't get the baking time right with the balance of ingredients. It's damn infuriating.

And then I made my dad a German Chocolate cake and ohmyheavenlyfuck, that was awesome. But I'm lazy. So... haven't posted that yet. Argh.

But! I did do this!


Pumpkin muffins!

Yeah. We ate them all weekend long. And did puzzles. And played Legos. And made spaghetti pie (it's baked too!).

In recap: we ate like pigs and played like kids. Good weekend.

I Feel Helpless, So Hopeless, it's a Door That Never Closes

This morning I was catching up on some work email and making notations in a spreadsheet, when I had to type today's date -- 9/11.

It's amazing how one second you're fine, the next you flash back seven years to an absolutely devastating day.

My mother-in-law was in town, helping Aaron pain the nursery. I was five months pregnant with Griffin. The weekend prior, they were giving me a hard time for making them paint "white-on-white" (white trim, cream walls). I was sick with a yet-to-be-diagnosed case of pregnancy induced asthma.

That Tuesday morning I came downstairs, my mother-in-law was shaking on the couch. The television was one. Thirty seconds later, the second plane flew into the other tower.

The horror and fear was palatable thousands of miles away for days. You could feel the death. Feel the worry of everyone searching for family and friends. The air was thick emotion, like moving through muddy waters.

The following week was horrible - everything was speculation and everyone was still searching, searching, hoping, hoping.

And now, seven days later, it feels the same. I'm unable to move, unable to breathe. Just sitting, looking at my home. Watching my son play with Star Wars toys and watching Dora, like it's just any other day. But it's not.

Oh, I Think I'll Get it Done Yesterday

I thought the whole point of the kids going to school was to allow myself to Get Shit Done.


Turns out, no. My shit keeps piling, reproducing. If I make it out alive it will be a miracle.