the great tree debate...

real or fake? Feel free to weigh in on this issue. Most people lean very much one way or the other. There are few folks in the world who would answer "ehhh...whatever works" to the tree question.
I grew up in a live tree home. Love the smell, the hunt, the trying to make it stand straight. Hate the mess. The very first year Matt and I were together (living in sin? yes we were thankyouverymuch) we trudged off to get our tree. We got a nice one, spent an obscene amount of time cussing at it because it was crooked, finally got it 'straight enough', decorated it, went to bed. At about 2 a.m. we heard a large crash. Of course it was the tree. I threw that bitch out the window (not really- I think I took it to the dumpster) and we promptly bought a fake tree. And shock of all shocks, my live tree loving self found that I could also love a fake tree. And love it we did, for 11 yrs. It died last year. We have done a little looking this year for a new, pre-lit model. When out of the mist comes Justin's little voice... "maybe could we get a real tree? From the woods? With a trunk instead of a pole?" He had me at 'maybe'. I have been coaxing Matt all week now. I think I wore him down today. A co-worker shared a tid-bit about a tree farm about 20 min from here that promises old-fashioned family fun. Hiking into the woods and cutting it down, then tagging it and hauling it in. They also promise a lodge and hot cocoa. The Clark W. Griswold in Matt was intensely interested. So I do believe that come this Saturday late afternoon that Family Mohler will be hiking into the woods with cocoa in hand for our very first real tree with a real trunk instead of a pole. Wish us luck. If a squirrel comes flying out of it once we get it home, you'll all be the first to know.

for lack of a better post...

not that I am lacking in material to write about today. It just isn't post-able material. God help me if I actually wrote what is in my head and a certain family member reads someday. Or God help them. Enough already, right?? Sooooo...instead of a 'real post' today you can get to know the inner holiday of Amy.

Enjoy!!

Welcome to the 2006 Holiday Edition of Getting to Know Your Friends!

1. Egg Nog or Hot Chocolate? Hot chocolate (with Bailey's)

2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree? Wraps them, but sometimes I wish he didn't!

3. Colored lights on tree/house or white? White

4. Do you hang mistletoe? Yep.

5. When do you put your decorations up? The weekend after Thanksgiving most of the decor goes up and the tree follows sometime later.

6. What is your favorite holiday dish (excluding dessert)? Those casserole potato thingys with cheese and sour cream and bacon.

7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child: Giving my mom the present I picked out especially for her at the Secret Santa shop at school. It was always something horrible that she pretended to love. Too bad it isn't PC to do Secret Santa shops at schools anymore!

8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa? I think I was 16 or 17 . OK...maybe not that old but I was one of the last Santa hold-outs. Someone at school ruined it for me

9. Do you open a gift on Christmas Eve? No, but I usually give the chiclets new jammies- does that count?

10. How do you decorate your Christmas Tree? White lights, tons of ornaments- most of them gaudy, red bows, and a big bow on top with ribbon streaming down. It's all very tacky-chic :)

11. Snow! Love it or Dread it? Hate, hate, hate it. Snow is only good on Christmas and maybe one other good sledding day. Then I am DONE WITH IT.

12. Can you ice skate? Not well. I wish I could though!

13. Do you remember your favorite gift? The doll house my grandpa made me.

14. What's the most important thing about the Holidays for you? Being with my family

15. What is your favorite Holiday Dessert? I wish I only had one! Probably grandma's oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.

16. What is your favorite holiday tradition? Seeing my sister's face at 4 am. She's almost 21 but she'll never grow up :)

17. What tops your tree? A big ol' bow

18. Which do you prefer giving or Receiving? Giving

19. What is your favorite Christmas Song? Brenda Lee "Rockin around the Christmas Tree" It makes me dance like Will Ferrell in 'Night At The Roxbury' everytime I hear it!

20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum? YUM!!! I steal one a day from the Christmas tree!

21. Favorite Christmas movie? Depends on my mood...my favorite funny one is 'Christmas Vacation'. My favorite traditional ones are 'Charlie Brown's Christmas' and 'It's a Wonderful Life'

22. What do you leave for Santa? Cookies, milk and carrots for the reindeer.

Matt channels Clark W. Griswold...

So...we put our lights up this weekend. It was an experience. Not fun in the least. Not festive. A lot like Clark Griswold in the Christmas Vacation movies. That same maniacal laughter when you've almost got it and the strand falls again. For the third time. It was at that point that I said (as sweetly as I could because I didn't want to get punched) "ummm honey...maybe we could just leave the bottom row and not have a top row? This is a little more work than I thought it would be." He growled (not an exaggeration) back at me "I'm not quitting now." Okie dokie. I'll just go in the house and mind my own beeswax. He did get it accomplished. With the help of a kind neighbor and his unbeliveably tall extension ladder. He got 'r done alright.
And it looks bee-u-ti-ful. If I do say so myself! Now if we could figure out how to put the screens back in the windows, all would be good again. We, being morons about such things, can't figure it out. I'm guessing there is an easier way to remove them and re-install them. Other than bending them in 1/2 and pushing with all your strength until they pop out. I'm thinking that isn't the way. Now we can't get them back in. Matt tried last night until one of them was nearly broken. I finally had to remove it from his hands until our brains weren't fried from holiday lighting fiascos. Otherwise I'd be buying replacement screens today.
Nope, today will be spent on decorating the inside -minus the tree- and getting the wreaths up. Then we will be completely Christmas-fied.

trade offs...

When the kids are all home sick I got the luxury of not having to rush like a crazy mama to get everyone off to their prospective schools. We can hang out in our jammies and watch cartoons and get to the other stuff whenever we get to it. The flip side of that coin, is cabin fever among the natives. I thought I was going to climb the walls yesterday. Of course everyone is feeling better now. They have been on their antibiotics and they feel like brand new chiclets. This means that they want to run and play and be free. For me that means screaming at them to stop running around the circle. They love to run around through the kitchen, dining room, and living room where there is no silly wall to stop them in their game. They chase each other around and around and scream and laugh. It is the ultimate fun. I am the ultimate fun-killer. Someone always slips on the wood floor, or their screaming makes me want to lose it. The rule is: no running. They break it. A lot. Yesterday it was more than a lot. I wanted to take them to school in the middle of the day and leave them there just to get them out of my hair for a bit. I have been with them now caged inside the walls of our house for going on 5 days. My only escape was a trip to the Dr's office and then to Target to fill prescription. Now school is out for the rest of the week for the holiday so I must find some form of escape today. God help the family member whose quiet home we choose to invade.
Happy Thanksgiving to all.........

land of the icks....

I think just last week I was going on about how my kids are hardly ever sick. I am such a pin-head. Who does that? Who brags about being disease free? Someone who wants to run 4 loads of bed sheets in one day, that's who. We spent a good part of the weekend cleaning up vomit. We meaning mostly me. Matt on the other hand had an el-primo ticket to the OSU-Michigan game. Being the good-natured and loving person I am, I grudgingly allowed him to go. While I washed the bedsheets and toasted bread and made soup. What I thought was the flu, is actually strep. I took Justin in this morning because he was complaining about his throat. Strep, indeed. Then I took Ryan in because he was among the pukers this weekend. His strep was negative but he has a raging ear infection and a throat that looks "suspicious". Not sure if that means his throat is about to commit a heinous crime or what, but we are to keep an eye on it. We meaning me, of course. So if I am absent the next few days I am preparing for turkey day and keeping a watchful eye on that suspicious looking throat of Ryan's. Leave it to him to have a suspicious anything.

EDITED TO ADD: Matt did clean up a little vomit this weekend. I am not going to listen to him howl at me for making people think he skipped out of the house while I scrubbed the mess. He was in on a little of it. Very little, but he was present.

I think I have become my mother....

poor Hannah.
You see when I was a child, my mama was a beautician. This, for me, meant that I was probably the only 4 year old with highlights and a perm. She had to practice on someone! She also could wield a brush like a lethal weapon. Because of this I have one of those heads of hair that can be pulled in 12 different directions and I can sleep through it. Dance team moms loved me. I was the only girl who didn't whine about those too-tight french braids.
Fast forward to today. Hannah has been wearing the same headband day in, day out for about 2 weeks. She loves it, so she wears it. I'm kind of sick of looking at it, so I think if I offer to do something fun and snazzy with her hair she will put away the hair band at least for a few hours. No. Not the case. She screamed and cried and it became a battle of wills that for some reason I wasn't giving up. When it was over she sobbed that her head hurt so bad....it was as if she was dying. The ponytail holder might make her brains ooze slowly out of her ears. Something of that nature. Now seriously, it was not tight. But apparently what the princess wants, the princess gets. I was seeing red so I jerked the ponytail holder out in "I'll give you something to cry about" fashion. My sister chose this time to place a phone call to me. After telling her my side of the story I realized immediately that I had become my mother. ***ACK*** I cannot tell you how many times as a small child I would think in my little head "I will never pull my daughter's hair like she pulls mine". In the end it was to my benefit since I now have hair follicles of steel. I didn't know that when I was Hannah's age. Maybe she'll thank me later??? I doubt it. She'll probably just share the horror stories with her friends. My sister reminded me of her childhood hair trauma with mom. She begged and pleaded for weeks to have bangs cut into her hair. She has naturally curly (it's beautiful. I hate her for it) hair and bangs will only look like pubes. My mom told her over and over again it was a bad idea, but Manda was unrelenting. Finally my mom decided to shut her up and cut some bangs for her. Only it must have been a PMS day for mom and Manda chose the wrong time to do battle with her. Mom cut those babies to about 1" in length. They were LOVELY. My sister has never had bangs since that day. We had a good chuckle about it today while we were reminiscing our childhood hair traumas. I know Hannah will have fun talking about 'the bad ol' days' with her friends someday too.

the awwww...so sweet factor....

so, my husband...he has his ordinary husband moments. You know- the ones that make me want to box his ears, or smack him repeatedly upside his head. He has a penis, so this is normal. He can't help it, it's just the way they are. Then he has other moments. The ones where I realize how lucky I am that his friend talked me into going out on at least one date with him. I wasn't in the mood to start with a new guy right at that moment, but I got talked into it. I'm lucky. Damn lucky that I decided to go out on that one date.
I realize it frequently, but especially on mornings like this one. He thanked me. I still am not 100% sure why he thanked me, but he did. This after he had the kids alone from last Thurs-Mon. with no complaining. That's right- no complaining. He sounded cranky at one point around day 3 on the phone but if I had been left for that long while he was say, golfing with a friend, I would have been more than cranky by day 3. I would have been an evil bitch. He just got a little cranky. And then last night when we both just wanted a quiet-ish evening, I was called off to help my mom with dogs because grandma had to go to the hospital again. Matt took Ryan with him to Justin's scout meeting so that I could get all of the dog stuff done and not have to worry about Ryan flushing a stuffed turkey down a toilet at my parent's house while I was off being otherwise occupied by feeding a dog. That may seem like a little thing, but Ryan really adds a note of quirkiness to any event he attends. He can make it hellish in no time flat. Then, my loving husband didn't whine when I realized I had left my keys in the van so he had to drive all the way back over to my parent's house to give them to me. AND HE DIDN'T BITCH, COMPLAIN, OR MOAN ONE TIME.
This is the same man who will help with the dogs anytime he is needed. Again this may seem like no big deal, but it involves scooping lots of dog shit and dealing with nastiness that the average husband would say "hell no" to. Not Matt, he does it. With minimal whining.
Also this man didn't slug me over the head even once last night when I couldn't sleep. He tried to make the dripping in the bathroom stop around 1 a.m. when I decided that might be what it was that was making me want to climb the walls. He didn't even do one of those exaggerated sighs. He just got up and got the shower to stop dripping. He really is a good guy.
On top of all of this, it is a major understatement to say that I am not an easy chic to live with. I bitch, moan, and complain on a regular basis. I have a vagina, so this is normal. I can't help it, it's just the way we are. :) Not to say he probably doesn't want to box me in the ears sometimes too. I'm sure he does. But he never has.
Instead, on days like today, he thanks me. Just for being me. Awwwww... he's so sweet!

you can't ever have too much fun...

not with Carol anyways. I have never been a birthday present before, but I was this past weekend. It was fun being a present. Although I'm thinking I shouldn't have had to make any decisions on how the weekend was going to play out. Shouldn't Carol have been the one to decide how and what she wanted her birthday present to do all weekend??? Damn. She made me make decisions all weekend!! :)
Let's see... we shopped, and ate, shopped some more, had a few cocktails, ate again, shopped some more... do you see a pattern? South Carolina has some damn fine shopping of the bargain variety. And Carol is the champion bargain hunter. Just ask her about her $11 mirror and the .37 cent serving bowl set she scored. Bitch. She is fun to shop with though.
I'm pretty sure she was happy about her surprise birthday present. She had a few moments of panic over a dirty toilet and some hairy sheets on my bed, but we remedied that before she had a stroke. Then I spent the rest of the weekend off-setting her placemats because it makes her twitch when they aren't all lined up and that makes me laugh. Aren't I just the best friend ever? I think she had fun even though I was trying make her insane and making fun of her for having OCD. Because seriously, the girl lined up the sleeve on her Starbucks cups so that the picture on the sleeve matched the picture on the cup. How can I not make fun of that?? She is more than welcome to make fun of my collection of dry erase boards when she comes up here to be my birthday present in a few months (**HINT MATT. HINT, HINT**)
End of weekend note to self...never make a Rachel Ray cocktail again. The girl has some good recipes, but pumpkin martinis ain't one of them. Other than that fiasco, all of our other cocktails were divine. Although just the thought of those pumpkin nightmares sort of makes me twitch. Did I mention how nasty they were?

it can only get better...

this morning I went over to my parent's house because my mom needed help with the dogs. She had an early morning appt. and couldn't get them all done. I let the Pointer pups out for their breakfast and potty time and as I was cleaning out their pen, I stuck my hand in a pile of dog shit that one of them had artfully hidden under a piece of newspaper. Really, it's a good thing they are cute puppies because otherwise I might just set them free near the freeway someday.
The day can only get better now, right?

do you know one??

Raise your hand if you know an adult that acts like a spoiled teenager... everyone does?? Of course you do! They are everywhere! I have to shake my head at adults that can't step away from High School. Grow up already. The day I graduated from HS, I turned away from all of that nonsense. I don't understand the point in re-living it for years and years. The cat fights in the hallways, who was on homecoming court, who made the cheerleading squad, who didn't...none of the crap matters in 'the real world' so why hang on to it?
I have a neighbor who is a total bizarro. Her daughter is a total brat and does cruel things to other kids. 2 other parents on the street have confronted her and she literally goes off like a bomb. Screaming obscenities in the street. Instead of saying anything to her daughter about being nasty to other kids or even asking her what happened like a sane person, she starts screaming about things that have nothing to do with anything. What is that teaching her daughter?? I can tell you one thing for sure. Her daughter is likely going to grow up to be one of those bitches everyone hates in HS and no one will talk to at the class reunion. That's what her mama is modeling for her. She is in 3rd grade and she is already a bitch. I hate to say that about a child, but some of the things I have seen her do with my own eyes would take your breath away.
I can't even count the number of people I have known in my adult life that leave me shaking my head in wonder at them. Concerned more about the brand of clothes their toddlers are wearing than anything else in the world. I guess that lesson never got to them in High School. I just assumed everyone learned eventually that whether you are wearing Tommy Hilfiger or Circo you can be a good person. Silly me.
I met another person this past weekend who is still flipped out over the fact that she wasn't on homecoming court. Seriously. She is going on 40 years old and still is angry at the world because she wasn't on homecoming court. She still has a grudge against people who were on court, and now their children as well. Did I say psycho already?? I wonder if she thinks the girls who did get on court still wear their sashes to work everyday? Really. WHO CARES?? No one even remembers that crap 10 years, 15 years, 20 years later. Let it go....
As I was listening to one of the neighbors talk about the latest neighborhood fight involving the 1st mom I talked about, all I could do was shake my head. My kids aren't involved in it and the crazy mom hasn't even stooped from her high horse to introduce herself to me yet, so I am hoping to never be involved in the crazy plot she lives in. Their house is for sale and all I can say is good riddance. Hopefully a sane family will buy it and move in and we can have less High School drama on the street.

i don't want to be THAT MOM...

I spent a long day on Saturday at a dance competition. If my husband was worried about me wanting to hop back into coaching and teaching dance, he need not worry a moment longer. Just a taste of the psycho moms at the competition on Sat. was all the reminder I needed for the reasons I quit doing it in the first place. One mother has a daughter who is in FOURTH GRADE. She spent the entire day hounding her about a back walkover. The poor girl was not comfortable doing it, but mom wanted it in the routine. Did I mention this mere child is in FOURTH GRADE?? I want to pull this woman aside and tell her that psycho bitches like her are the ones who have daughters who walk out on the floor to compete and freeze because of stress. Who wants to stress out their kid that much?? She was almost in tears over it. She has YEARS to perfect and perform a back walkover for the judges. These are also the kids that are oooozing talent and walk away from it when they are at the top of their game because they have had it with their parent's constant pushing. I've seen it everywhere- at soccer, football, pretty much anything sports oriented. I just know for myself, I have never coached a team that didn't have at least one of those moms. I don't have the patience to deal with them anymore. Nor do I have the ability to bite my tongue long term and not tell them they are being freakish. I would not make a good dance coach anymore :)
The beauty of it is, I will never be that mom. I have seen too much of what it does to the kids when their parents aren't standing there. When they come to me hysterical because they just can't take it anymore. I never want that for my kids. They will do what they want to do. I may do some gentle prodding, but that's it. Everyone thinks I'll flip out if Hannah doesn't dance. Nope. If she decides in a few years that she isn't having fun, then she's done. That's what it's all about to me. If she has fun with it for years like I did, then I am happy. If she wants to play soccer for the rest of her life, I'm happy too. Psycho mom, I ain't.

just say no...

I can't do it. I can't say no. People ask me to help with things and I immediately blurt out "sure! I have nothing going on that day!" Why??? Why do I do that to myself? Now I have a calendar that is so full for the next 2 months that I literally have ZERO free weekends. Some of my weekend activities are fun, some are not, either way it will be 2007 before I have a weekend with no plans. No exaggeration. In 2007 I think I have a free weekend. It probably won't happen though because someone will ask a favor of me and I'll quickly answer that I have nothing else going on that weekend before I can stop myself.
What can I say? I am one of those 'people pleasers'. Much as I hate it sometimes, it's what I am. It's good and bad. Most of my friends and family appreciate it about me. My husband probably hates it. He would give anything for a plan free weekend. Good thing he is patient. He is usually the last in line of people that I please. Poor guy. Plus his mom only let him eat 2 friggin' pieces of candy at Halloween when he was a kid. He has been underprivileged his whole life!! I did try to make up for that by sending him to work with a basket of all the good stuff. Damn if he isn't a people pleaser too. He gave it all away.

soggy Halloween...

I wish I had some cute pictures to share of my darling trick or treaters today. I don't because last night would be the all-time suckiest trick or treat night in my memory. It was 40ish degrees and raining. WOOHOO. Lovely weather. Now, the day before, it was 60 and beautiful but who am I to question Mother Nature and her fall insanity plan?
The kids still had fun and I guess that's what it's all about, right? I don't enjoy bundling up and walking door to door looking like a drowned rat, but the children were unfazed by this. Unfortunately, it wasn't good picture taking weather. I tried to snap a couple indoors but we had trick or treaters ringing the doorbell 15 min. early (talk about ignorant) so they couldn't focus on me or my camera they just wanted out the door to go beg for their own bucket o' candy.
This is the best shot I got....















Isn't that a lovely shot of the chiclets? Oh yes...straight into the scrapbook with that one. Last year I made a whole photoshow of how cute they were. This year I got one lame picture. What's a scrapper to do with that?? Oh well. We have more candy than we could eat in a lifetime and they were bouncing off the walls until 10 p.m. I nixed Matt's idea of a 2 piece of candy limit. I went with the plan my mom always used...eat candy till you feel sick. I think the kids liked my plan better. 2 pieces indeed!! Whoever heard of such a thing? I was making fun of him in front of his mom for this ridiculous plan and then found out it was actually HER plan and that's what Matt had as a rule when he was a child. Don't you feel sorry for him now?? I do.
At the end of the evening we dried off and drove over to my parent's house so they could see them in their costumes and instead of candy I got a tumbler of Bailey's with caramel on the rocks. Who needs candy? I was feeling much better about my soggy Halloween after that.

just because it made me laugh...

not whining. won't do it.

I promise not mention how bad my teeth STILL hurt today. I won't mention the fact that I can barely be understood because I can't open my mouth all the way to speak. My family is enjoying it immensely. I will mention that I got a good chuckle at my ownself this morning. I woke up and couldn't believe how much better my mouth felt. Just as I was marveling over how quickly the pain ended it occurred to me that in my drunken stupor last night I forgot to put the damn rubber bands back in after I ate dinner. DUH. No wonder I felt better. Then I trudged into the bathroom to reinstall the torture devices (rubber bands) and almost cried at the pain flooding back. I think even Matt felt bad for me. This was a good sign in our marriage because I think he was ready to kill me last night. I wasn't kidding when I said I needed a big bottle of vodka with which to drown myself. I really did dive in with both feet. I think I irritated him with my alcoholism last night. I guess if he felt bad for me this morning that must mean he likes me again.
But I won't mention the pain in my mouth. Promise I won't.

whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiining...

My teeth hurt. Bad. I am currently waiting for my knight and shining armor (Matt) to arrive with my liquid pain killer (vodka- in the vanilla variety) so that I can drown myself in it. Hoping the bottle is that big. Must drown myself in it.
I thought once I got over the initial pain and whiny-ness of getting these bitches (ooops, braces) put on my teeth, I would never again feel that kind of pain in my mouth. The kind that makes you want to just jerk the *#$&ers smack out of your mouth. The kind that makes even my inner pig not want to look at food, let alone be forced to chew it. Sadly, I am again experiencing the pain thanks to my friends the rubber bands. I have them going in 4 directions currently in my mouth and I want to shout at my short, pudgy orthodontist and tell him what a rat bastard he is for putting people in this pain. I know it isn't his fault. It's actually mine. I brought this on. It doesn't matter. He is still a rat bastard (he really isn't. He's really a nice guy. He can't help this). I might feel differently in a day or so when it stops. Please tell me this will stop in a day or two. Probably until they put thicker rubber bands in a different location, going in a different direction. Then it'll all start again. Curse this bad bite of mine!!!!
I found out today that my blood pressure meds prevent me from taking ibuprofen. I refuse to ask if I should be limiting my alcohol intake. I'm sure I don't want to know the answer and quite honestly tonight, I just DO NOT care one iota. I'm havin' the liquid pain killers in vanilla form. Several of them. Do not call my house tonight and expect anything more than slurred speech. The fault of both the vodka and the rubber bands.

grey skies...

We are supposed to have "November grey skies" all day today. It was cold yesterday but the sky was blue and the clouds were puffy. It was a crispy fall day- my favorite. Today we are November grey. Blah. Except they were wrong at the ol' NBC weather station today. They said we wouldn't see the sun at all. Nary a bit, all the live long day (my words- not his. He isn't a total hillbilly. I am). And yet I saw it. Just as we were headed toward the bus. It came up over the field behind us and peeked through the November grey. Just long enough to hit the tress on the opposite side of the field and light up the oranges, yellows, and reds on the leaves. It was bright, fantastic, beautiful. I made a mental note to run home and grab my camera and take a picture of it as soon as I could dump Justin out of the van. Sadly, when I got home, it was November grey again. None of the fiery, bright colors were still illuminated by the sun. They are still pretty, but it isn't even close to the same.
Still...for a moment today, I saw the sun. They said I wouldn't, but I did. I think that means it's going to be a good day.

Avoidance is my friend...

I am avoiding several things today. Cleaning being the biggest one. My house is a pit. I need to get it clean before Fri when we have a visitor coming. Matt's mom. She hasn't seen the house and it'll be the first visit. I REALLY need to get it clean. Yet, here I sit, avoiding.
I am avoiding getting on the scale because I have been on an ice cream kick this week and it is going to be U-G-L-Y.
I am avoiding figuring out what is on my nerves today. Something is. I am in a mood and I don't know why. I feel a storm brewing in my brain and I have no idea what the deal is. Could be hormones, but I fear I blame 90% of my current pissiness on hormones. I'm starting to think it's not hormones so much as it is just me. Who I am now. What I have grown up to be. I think when I was little I wanted to grow up and be a veterinarian or a teacher. Instead I grew up to be the wicked witch of the west. Who'd have thunk?
I am also avoiding what to make for dinner. Maybe if I avoid this long enough it will turn into pizza night. This is my hope.
I have a long list of avoidances. I won't bore you with it all. This is already an ignorant post. No need to ignorant it up any further.

Oprah strikes again...

That Oprah. She has more money than anyone. Yet she always reminds me what a heel *I* am for not appreciating what I have. Her show yesterday was "moms around the world". Hannah was watching it with me so it was enlightening for us both. Some of the women (like the hot mom from Brazil- and I don't mean temperature hot) had more riches than they could even handle. Nannies, maids, drivers, all the goods. Brazil mommy was spouting how lucky she was to be able to spend time with her children. Yes...because someone else is cleaning your toilets and mopping your floor. Plus she is married to Brazil's version of Brad Pitt. That could go either way on the good-bad scale. I wouldn't want to be married to any form of Brad Pitt- even Brazil's. Thanks Matt.
Then, of course, there were the moms of Africa. That Oprah, she refuses to let us bury our heads in the sand and pretend what is going on in Africa is not. She shows us these horrible things regularly. Things that makes anyone with a soul uncomfortable. What she said that stood out in my head, was that those moms in Darfur, Africa want the same things for their kids that we do. They have the same hopes, dreams, and aspirations. Except they live in a refugee camp and can't sleep at night because someone might invade the camp and rape them or their children. Oh...and they don't know when they'll have their next meal. Or sip of clean water. They are lucky if they get one meal of grain a day. Yet, they hope the same things for their kids that I do.
Yep...Oprah knows how to make me appreciate that I have time to play Candyland. That I even own the board game. She even made me appreciate my crappy water and ignorant clean-nothing dishwasher. Even better than that, my daughter saw this same thing. Last night as we were saying our prayers, she prayed for the mommy that didn't have food for her babies. Yes, Oprah. We got the message.

Earn bad mommy credits for the day...check that off my list.

Help me try to make a 5 year old understand why I am backing out of a field trip to the pumpkin patch. We were supposed to go last week but they cancelled because it was muddy. That's nice of them, but now it's muddy and freezing. It doesn't sound like a fun trip to me. Especially not with Ryan in tow. Of course, I have devastated my daughter. Just earning my bad mommy award points. Yes indeed. It isn't just cold, it's bitter...and did I mention the mud? A 2 hour trip through the pumpkin patch just does NOT fit into my plan for the day. It would be different if it was even partially indoors. It is not. It is 1 hour and 45 min of listening to "the life of a pumpkin seed" and 15 min of picking pumpkins. In the freezing cold, bitter wind, and mud- wait did I already mention that? Blah. I have scarred her for life by telling her we aren't going. I'll pay for the therapy later, I'm sure. Whatever.