How about if I feature some fantastic posts written by others for a change, rather than just hyperlinking selfishly to my own past scribblings? Wouldn't that be refreshing? A relief, even?
Hats off to Beck for writing that dieting is not a moral issue! We are all fallen sinners, no matter what we eat; so please do not be a sanctimonious diet snob.
And thank you, Veronica, for giving me my laugh for today with your method of determining whether certain items of clothing should remain in your drawers. Car accident, indeed! You are a woman after my own worst-case-scenario heart! And you are right - life is too short to wash clothes that you hate.
There! That was a sneaky way to get out of writing a blog post of my own. I need to go and see if the child I hear screaming is my own. I think mine are asleep. It may be a neighbor's child. That would be a nice change, wouldn't it? I know my neighbors all think I beat mine regularly, to judge from the amount of caterwauling that emanates from our house at all hours of the day and night.
But, before I go, I need to mention that I have missed a very important anniversary here at The More, The Messier. I don't know if any of you have noticed, but as of 11 PM on July 4th, a milestone was reached.
This household had been vomitless for a full year.
Let me elaborate -
Since Brian's unfortunate overconsumption of cherry pie and his subsequent regurgitation of same on 4 July 2008, no one in this house has puked,
or vomited,
or barfed,
or tossed his/her cookies for 365 days.
That, my friends, is a record. And here it is, over a week later, and the streak is unbroken. Could it be that the vomit years have ended? Might we be able to live like normal families, without stashes of ginger ale and saltines ever at the ready?
I'm thinking I should gather all the puke-filled posts under one tab up there at the top of the main page; it would be a sort of vomit retrospective, to be used in those silly "What To Expect As Parents" classes that never tell you what things will really be like with kids. Until now....
Or the posts could be used as a sort of "Scared Straight" for sexually active teens...
There's got to be some use for them - I'd hate to see all our suffering be for naught.
You like living dangerously, don't you? Don't you know you shouldn't say things like that aloud, let alone put in print?
ReplyDeleteWell, may this non-vomiting tradition continue well beyond the first year!
I wish you another barf free year. Take your silver linings where you can find them. Love the new look.
ReplyDeleteYes, yes, yes, but what about mice?
ReplyDeleteWell you could use my approach, tell the kids your labor stories...from start to finish. They really didn't want to hear about what else exits a woman's body when she's bearing a child.
ReplyDeleteCongratulations on your puke-free year!!
ReplyDeleteI really hope that you were knocking on some wood when you said that.
I hope you didn't just jinx yourself.
ReplyDeleteA whole year??? We can't make out of the month without something going on, er, out.
ReplyDeleteI have one that violently ejects whatever food didn't please his rather delicate palate.
Ham?
Teriyaki?
That new dish that had a trace of curry powder in it?
No thank you.
HURL.
So what might you substitute for vomit? Ants? Pee? Eye rolling and huffy sighs?
ReplyDeleteWhile I'm incredibly happy for you for passing the milestone of an entire vomit-free year, I have to ask... don't you miss it as blog fodder? Just a teeny, tiny bit?
ReplyDelete[Exits rapidly while bowing contritely]
*sigh* I'd love to make it a year in the Trenches without someone tossing their cookies.
ReplyDeleteSo congrats!
Why would you say a thing like that! Now you must knock on wood, throw salt over your shoulder, and go buy more saltines just so you won't need to use them.
ReplyDeleteCongrats; I must say it's the kind of anniversary I've never considered.
You've just jinxed yourself.
ReplyDeleteWow. That is quite an accomplishment. Congrats!
ReplyDeleteI vote for scared straight, but aren't you afraid you just jinxed yourself?
ReplyDelete