Weight Not, Want Not

I'm not sure what that title means, but it is sort of catchy, isn't it?

Brian is sick. But, of course - he needs to get sick by today so that he could be sure to infect me before the glorious knitters' weekend that is coming up in a few days. I mean, we wouldn't want to let Mommy get away by herself for the first time in 17 years. (Of course, there was the week I spent 3 years ago in a Cardiac Intensive Care Unit, taking care of my dad - but I really don't think that should count, do you?) So Brian is sitting around with a sore throat and a slight fever and rubbing his boogers on every surface he can think of. Thanks, sweetie.

Today was the day I officially increased my goal weight by 6 pounds. I feel as though I cheated. Because I did. And in order to help all you other dieters out there who would like to be as successful(?) as I am, I have compiled the following list.

Things Weight Watchers never told me

1. If you eat a bagful of baby carrots (zero points!) in a single afternoon, you should really stay near a bathroom.
2. Even if you do reach the same weight that you were before you started having babies, you still won't have that same fetching figure. Not by a long shot.
3. Losing weight does not eliminate the varicose veins. The sagging chin seems to be here to stay, also.
4. The reason they make you a lifetime member once you reach your goal weight? Because you'll be back again. And again. And again.
5. Being good and eating only your allotted daily points leads to hunger pangs at night, which in turn lead to recurrent dreams of eating huge ice cream sundaes and then sobbing because you've ruined your diet. The hunger pangs also result in your waking up to find yourself gnawing at your pillow.

There. Hope that helps. I'm going to stop neglecting my children now. At least, until noon.

Tomorrow, tomorrow...

The tale of Brian's Volcano Cake will have to wait until tomorrow. I don't want all the b'day pictures lumped together with the pictures I dumped off the camera this morning in preparation for the festivities. The b'day pictures need to be downloaded on a different day. I know there is probably a way for me to download them tonight into a separate "album," but it is beyond my capabilities. Do not try to explain it to me; my brain will explode.

So, instead, I will share with you the most exciting news of the day. Today Susie became the very first kid in our family to actually poop in the potty before reaching her 3rd b'day. Yup, she is amazing. Well, actually, I am just amazingly lousy at potty training; but I've made my peace with that. We all went out for ice cream to celebrate her great feat. Which, I do realize, poses a problem the next time she chooses to poop in the potty....

Oh, and we left a message for Larry at work - I got Susie to say into the phone (in her sweet little 2-year-old voice), "Hi, Daddy! I pooped in the potty!" I sure hope Larry doesn't listen to his office voice mail on speakerphone.

How many times can I type some variation of "poop in the potty" in a single post? I'm up to 3 already. No, 4...and I am just getting warmed up.

It was spring-like here today, so spring-like that I even considered putting on my (knee-length) shorts. But I really didn't want to find out whether I could button them or not, so I put off that pleasure for another day. I did finally figure out a simple way to reach my goal weight, though - I increased it. So now, instead of being 7 pounds away from my goal, I am only one pound over. I feel so much skinnier! Larry was not impressed with my new approach to weight loss.

I really wish I could show you those Volcano Cake pictures....

Some Things Bug Me

Well, I certainly wasn't in a very good mood last night, was I? Chronic pain will do that to a person. And the threat of impending death. Things haven't improved much here today, healthwise - I just keep popping those little magic pills the doctor gave me, which might as well be placebos for all the good they are doing me.

Someone came over to visit with her kids this afternoon, which provided me a little distraction from my medical woes; but, unaware of my tenuous grasp on my Weight Watchers' resolution, she brought a container of chocolate chip cookies to share. They were good cookies. Not quite as good as Trefoils, but beggars can't be choosers. Luckily, the cellulitis seems to be affecting my jaw, so it's been harder to chew; maybe that will all balance out for me, diet-wise.

Oh, dear - now my hypochondriacal brain is whispering the words "gangrene of the jaw" to me. Is that a disease? Should I Google it? Can I live with half a jaw? I don't know. One of you look it up for me, okay? And my left ear is still swollen up like a cauliflower. I was thinking about that last night when I couldn't sleep, and I remembered that I had once read about a medical case in Boston where the doctors couldn't get rid of the infection in some guy's earlobe no matter what, until some genius decided to use live maggots to clean the bacteria out of it. It being the middle of the night and all, I decided that that was no doubt going to happen to me; so then I started wondering if they would administer some sort of general anaesthetic for the procedure or if I was just going to have to kill myself.

Would you believe, Larry was sort of confused when woken up by my 3 AM panic attack? Even after I managed to explain to him my dire maggot-ridden situation?

Oh, look, I found a picture of maggot therapy; but, for some reason, I can't load it onto my blog . Consider yourselves lucky, okay? If you really want to see it, just go here.

Lovely, isn't it? Whatever happened to "First, do no harm"?

Thankful For The Small Things

I'm thinking that it is hard for a woman to restrict both her food intake and her non-food purchases at the same time. I've lost another pound (thank you, yes, I do feel great, except for this gnawing feeling in my stomach); but I keep buying things online. Things that have been sitting on my Amazon wishlist for 6 months, say...and some more fun workbooks for the kids...and a bunch of educational CD's that put science to music I've been eyeing for years....

(I must say, that until you've learned about DNA to the tune of "Shortnin' Bread," you haven't really lived. This is why I home school.)

I haven't even hit the yarn sites yet; but I can feel it coming. Where do you buy your Cascade 220, Amy? I think I'll be ordering some next time I want a cookie.

You know what? Nothing to complain about today - I lost a pound, I got my 15-minute walk, only one kid wept through dinner, and my husband has not exposed me to a media firestorm of epic proportions. What's not to like about that?

Steppin' Out

(To the tune of "On top of Old Smokey...")

"The grave will deca-a-a-y you,
And turn you to dust...."

Doesn't that sound like a good verse for a song on a children's CD? And the guy sings it so cheerfully, too...I almost drove the car into a hydrant while trying to (hurriedly) turn the volume way down. I'm surprised the next verse wasn't something like, "The worms and the ma-a-a-ggots, Will eat out your eyes...."

Just finished paying another chunk of money to our local library. I don't really want to talk about it right now. Amazing but true.

I stopped off at the grocery store after my weigh-in this morning (down 2 pounds - go, me!) (even with all those Twix and Girl Scout cookies) and realized at the checkout that I had left my wallet in the car. Normally, I would have been all annoyed at myself, having to waste time to run out there and run back in. But not today! Nope! Because, from now on, inefficiency pays off. I bought myself an official Weight Watchers pedometer this morning, so leaving my wallet in the car translated into 400 extra steps.

I've heard that one's goal should be 10,000 steps a day - I'm only up to 3,000, so I need to get up and jog around the living room or something. Maybe I'll march in place while I prep dinner.

It's so exciting to have a goal.

We woke Larry up last night and demanded mousetraps for the attic above Anna's bedroom. It was that bad. He was pretty nice about it. So, understandably, I have mice on the brain. Which may explain why, just now, I thought we had mice running up and down in the walls of our den. Lots of them, hordes of them....until Theo kindly explained that those were raindrops I was hearing. I wouldn't believe him until he opened a window.

They sounded like mice.

Maybe it's the food deprivation. I'm hallucinating. Yeah, that's it...time for an emergency Twix...

I Can Dream, Can't I?

It's about the mice today. Anna heard scrabbling in the ceiling above her bed - and considering she sleeps in the top bunk, she was a bit freaked out. For some reason Larry was not anxious to climb up into the attic to hunt rodents after a rough day at work (how rough? specifically, "sucky, but not too sucky," whatever the heck that means). Methinks he is losing some of that youthful energy that I so admired when I met him. But, being as that I am not exactly the sweet, energetic girl he married, I can scarcely complain.

Ah, Twix, how I love thee! Is there anything more glorious than having both extra Weight Watchers' points at the end of the week and a bag of Twix in the house? What a marvelous confluence of events! In fact, the only reason I am still awake is that I had to wait until my kids were asleep to break into my chocolate-y stash.

I'm trying to remember what made me happy before I had kids. I'm pretty sure it was something more exciting than a bag of candy.

We had a glorious spring day today, warm enough to sit out on the deck and bask in the sun. And I felt skinnier because I didn't need my long johns on underneath my jeans. Hey! That should take a couple of ounces off my weigh-in tomorrow - pass me some more Twix!

My best friend came over with her daughter; and while the girls played, she told me how she wasn't sure what she'd do with herself all day once all her kids were in school next year. And no, she wasn't joking. I told her I'd give her a list. Not that I fantasize about that or anything. But I do wonder whether, devoted homeschooler that I am, I'll suddenly do an about-face the year my youngest is old enough for kindergarten. "Hey, kids! Remember all that stuff I told you about school? Kidding! It's not that bad! Here's your lunch, have a great day, see ya later!"

Sigh. Yoga 3 days a week, knitting classes, catching up on all the photo editing and albums - and you? What would you do (or what do you do already) with 6 or 7 blessed hours every day, 5 days a week? Go ahead, make me weep...

Quiet as Mice

Quick note to any dieters out there: it may not be in your best interest to leave an open box of Girl Scout cookies (Trefoils) next to your keyboard. Just take my word for it, okay? And did you know that Trefoils are best when you chew them up really well and then just sort of keep them in your mouth for a minute or so? I mean, in theory? Ahem.

During my cleaning frenzy this morning, I decided to go above and beyond by actually cleaning the furnace filter. I entered the furnace closet only to find that apparently Larry has stopped checking the mousetraps nightly. Which means, who knows what might be decomposing in our attic even now? That's a fun thought.

I was complaining to Larry that I couldn't finish writing the stuff that I might actually make money from (as opposed to these blog posts that he sees me wasting time over) because, by the time I sit down to work at 9 PM, I'm too tired to do anything but mindlessly surf the blogosphere. And I can't write during the day with 2 little girls dancing around my computer chair and trying to sit on my lap. The Yarn Harlot, I pointed out to him, has been sequestered this week in a cabin in the Canadian woods, just so she can get her writing done. Larry was kind enough to refrain from pointing out that she is a professional writer, as opposed to being a whining dilettante (um, that would be me). But he did call my bluff by taking the 4 youngest to the aquarium for the day. The teens are out at chess club and flute choir all afternoon. Which left just me at home, with no distractions whatsoever....(well, aside from the box of Trefoils, of course)....

Do you know how hard it is to concentrate with no distractions? It's so damn quiet in here. I actually had to take a walk to the bookstore to get anything done. (And to get away from the blogosphere...) (Not that I am blaming you guys for my lack of productivity or anything...)

Nothing interesting is happening here, nothing. Not even anything cute and endearing...although I took Bia's advice and had a family night here yesterday evening (the teens were out, which made it easier - they don't want to know from family nights at their age). David was in charge and he chose pizza and monopoly to be our food and activity for the evening. We had Hershey's kisses and mini-Reese's cups on free parking - aren't I fun? A good time was had by all, so thank you, Bia, for encouraging me to be a nice mommy for once.

And yes, I've been writing down all the chocolates and pizza - and I haven't gone over my Weight Watchers points. But if someone doesn't grab this box of Trefoils away from me, I'm definitely in trouble.

War is Hell

I swear, in all the years they have been alive, not one of my children has ever, of his/her own will, turned off a light. I'll go upstairs and find it devoid of people, yet with 3 bedroom lights, one hallway light, and one bathroom light, all on. I think it's all part of their NILE initiative - No Illumination Left Extinguished. Just a few people's effort to make their tiny corner of the world a little brighter....

And in this (bright) corner of the world, what makes the front page of major newspapers (print edition) are school redistricting fights. That's right, there's the war in Iraq; but there are the more important wars here at home, such as whose child gets to go to an AP school versus an IB school. Though these differences seem trivial to outsiders, they spark internecine violence, such as fistfights among parents at school bus stops (please, people, the children! Spare the children!). Irate homeowners storm the offices of local realtors, who made unkeepable promises regarding specific school districts. Longtime friends and neighbors stop speaking to each other. It's brother against brother, the north side of town against the south, angry mobs sniping at each other at neighborhood yard sales...

People wonder why I home school. I tell you, it's because I don't like to take sides. Can't we all just get along? And put something more newsworthy on the front pages of our newspapers? Geez, no wonder print is dead....

I sat next to yet another spinning fanatic at Knit Night yesterday evening. She looked normal, but then she started talking about her spinning wheel that she had bought in Vermont; and the woman on the other side of me chimed in about the wheel that she might just pick up in Poland (apparently the Stradivarius of spinning wheels lives there); and I realized I had entered the Twilight Zone. What's wrong with these people? Don't they realize that we live in way too rushed a society for them to sit there and spin wool into yarn, and then knit a sweater from it? I mean, by the time you're done, you've frozen to death, right?

It's now that point in the afternoon when the sound of my children's voices puts my teeth on edge. Anna is out babysitting (apparently, she is much nicer to other people's children than to ours) and Theo has decided he wants to get all this high school nonsense out of the way and is studying non-stop. David is busy trying to make some sort of astronaut diorama out of those little marshmallow Peeps and some tinfoil. (What is it with that kid, anyway?) But that still leaves Brian, Rachel, and Susie (piping shrilly away on her little plastic recorder) to drive me insane. My only hope is that our next-door neighbor's children come over and distract them. You'll just have to take my word for it, it's way easier to watch 6 kids than just 3. One of those paradoxes of parenthood.

Oh, and I'm starving. Not losing weight, though; just starving. We wouldn't want all this suffering to have a purpose or anything...

Enough About Me

Nada. Zip. Nothing. That's how much weight I lost this past week. Of course, I could take a glass-half-full perspective and say that that is how much weight I gained this past week. Either way, I don't feel as though I'm getting my 40-dollars-a-month worth. And I'm hungry.

Being hungry makes me really cranky, especially when I start surfing the blogosphere in order to take my mind off food and I run into 2 or 3 blog posts in a row which are going on and on and on about doughnuts and other baked treats. Complete with pictures, wouldn't you know? Blogging can make you fat.

Manic Mommy has tagged me with a meme, or what she called a heme, as she made it all about her husband. Which may not be a bad idea....

1. My husband doesn't like jokes about exercise.

2. He tends to fall asleep in the den with his headphones on, plugged into music on the computer, which makes it awfully tempting to turn up the volume. But I resist.

3. When he sees me relaxing with some knitting for a few minutes, he thinks it is a good time to mention all the different business trips he is planning to go on in the next few months. And then he wonders why I wait until he is asleep to go up to bed myself.

4. He likes to talk to our teen daughter Anna, just to bother her. It's fun to watch.

5. He and I share the same goal of enjoying many boring evenings together once the children have flown the nest. Imagine, no crises, no teeth to be brushed (I mean, except our own), no Berenstain Bears books to be read....I'm just going to sit and knit, and he is going to fall asleep with his headphones on, and our grown children will wonder how we ever got that way.

6. He spoils Susie more than I do. She gets up extra early in the morning because she knows Daddy will give her a treat in the kitchen before I can get down there.

7. He is happy with whatever I make for dinner, so long as he doesn't have to think about it. Cooking isn't his strong point. If I die before the kids are grown, they will have to survive on nothing but hotdogs and pancakes. And pizelles (those flat eggy Italian cookies) - the man makes his own pizelles (how do you spell that?). Last night, in fact, the urge seized him; so he and I were in the kitchen at 9:30 having a mini pizelle-fest. When Brian came down to ask for some Sudafed, I said, "You caught us! This is what we do every night as soon as you go to bed - we have a baking party in the kitchen." Poor kid - he believed me. He hasn't looked that traumatized since the time I left him behind in an elevator.

G'night, all!

What's Wrong With Addiction, Anyway?

Half a pound. Up. That's what a week of denying myself leads to - a weight gain of half a pound. Imagine how much I would have gained if I hadn't been on a diet. It is becoming clear to me that I have a choice for the rest of my life - look good, or eat like a normal human being. I can't decide.

It was one of those days (those many, many days) when only the lobotomizing effect of having been around small children for almost 2 decades prevented me from going absolutely crazy. It was close, though. Forget waterboarding - stick some prisoner in a cell with Rachel and Brian bickering non-stop for 8 hours, and he'll tell you anything you want. I'm betting that would be a violation of the Geneva Conventions, though. Torture, plain and simple.

It was a relief, I must admit, to abandon my family this evening in order to attend Knit Night, where I can converse with adults about topics other than who started it and who is supposed to do what chores. And I was proud of myself for getting out and mingling with real people, rather than opting to stay home, on the computer, "chatting" with my imaginary friends. The result? I came home with 2 new blog addresses to add to my reader. Oh, dear.

But it seems that on the spectrum of blog addiction, I'm somewhere in the middle - not yet completely lost in the world of virtual friends, but definitely heading for the danger zone. Those of you who commented on yesterday's post that you peruse fewer than 20 blogs, just wait. You'll get sucked in too.

What fascinated me was the range of rationalizations we use to justify our Internet habits. "I read a lot of blogs, but I don't comment much" - is that the equivalent of not inhaling, Sue? I'm just wondering. And Kelli claims that she reads them for the recipes. Tell me, is that like reading Playboy for the articles?

Some people, such as Mary Alice, feel that organization is the answer to the problem of blogging taking up too much time. Still others opine that, while blogging may be a bad habit, it is only replacing other bad habits, such as TV watching and online shopping. And then there are the few, the proud, who make no excuses whatsoever (or else they are just so far gone they don't even realize what's happening to them).

Questions of blog etiquette also arose. Is it impolite to visit a blog without leaving a comment, as mrs. g. suggested? Perhaps that would be the virtual equivalent of peeping in someone's windows.... And if you don't have a reader or blogroll, but just sort of "link around," does that make you a blog slut, as Manic Mommy hypothesized?

Blog slut - I love that.

So I'll leave you to ponder all these musings on the nature of our virtual connectedness, while I prepare to host a Valentine's Day party tomorrow. Volunteering to host get-togethers of this nature is the only way I can get myself to clean up my house. Public shaming is a powerful motivator.

Things I Never Learned In Math Class

6 kids equal 1800 dollars in tax rebate. In the words of Marketplace's Nancy Marshall-Genzer, "They really are cheaper by the dozen." I do wish I had thought of that joke first.

1 fun-size Twix equals 2 Mint Musketeers Miniatures (for all you Weight Watchers out there). But, if you leave the open bag of Musketeers next to your keyboard, you end up eating at least 8 points worth before your husband takes it away. After that, you have to settle for licking the empty wrappers (0 points!).

4 pairs of jeans in the laundry hamper equals no pants to wear except the too tight ones that I hang onto for no good reason. (And, yes, I am sitting here at the computer with them unbuttoned just so I can breathe - how did you know?)

One kid with a weird 24-hour fever-and-headache virus equals one week of sickness (at least) in a household of 8 people. Should be a great week coming up, folks! Stay tuned for more news from Quarantine Central....

Finally, one question equals 21 varied responses on what to do for your husband for Valentine's Day. I'd say that Derfwad Manor is sacrificing the most for her sweetheart (turning off your computer for the entire day, mrs. g? Are you trying to make me look bad?); and I would like to advise Neil that if his wife wants Valentine's Day to be all about her, I say go with it. I mean, if you like her and all...

Which reminds me - never marry a man whose birthday is February 14th. A friend of mine did this, and every Valentine's Day she has to listen to him complain about having to buy her a present on his birthday.

Aaack - No Title - Sorry!

Check out my weight loss ticker - down 2 pounds this week. Actually, I think the lady lied to me again. Those women probably just like messing with my mind. Either that, or the look on my face - you know, that look that says, "If my weight goes up again this week, I'm gonna wrap the cord on this scale around somebody's neck" - scared her into crediting me with some weight loss. Whatever. I don't feel any skinnier, that's for sure. I ate my Twix this evening though, I made sure of that.

I'm feeling lazy tonight - that's why I'm hyperlinking to all my old posts. I even get sort of annoyed now that I can't hyperlink in real life. I mean, when I talk to someone for real, I actually have to explain everything I'm saying rather than simply referring him/her to some past blog post. What a pain in the neck....no wonder it's easier to have imaginary friends than real ones. Also, the imaginary friends never ask you to babysit.

That last paragraph should worry me, but it doesn't. I've resolved to embrace this brave new world of Internet connectivity and networking and...and...whatever other buzzwords are out there, because what choice do I have? Do I really want to be the last person on Earth with a daily newspaper subscription? Maybe I'll even learn how to text messages this year. Then I could put my schoolmarm-ish past behind me and forget all those silly little niceties such as correct spelling and capitalization that were drilled into me as an impressionable young child growing up in the Dark Ages BI (Before Internet).....

Biographical aside - I almost went to the National Spelling Bee when I was 11 - that was back before these orthographical contests were dominated by professional homeschooled spellers; so far back that I can't even link to the newspaper article reporting my spectacular spelling success at the local level....

Quixotic - that's the word that tripped me up. Damn. I coulda been a contender.

It's late, and my fiendish neighbor is threatening to start knocking on my door again at 6:30 in the morning; so I'll sign off. And, for any gentlemen who may be reading this, remember - only one more week until Valentine's Day, so start panicking. You have a snowball's chance in hell of guessing what gift your sweetheart really wants. And we women love watching you guys sweat. (evil laugh here)

Cinderella Story

Miss me? I fell asleep at 7:30 with the toddler last night. I woke up at 10:30 when Larry came to bed, and I started crying and saying I had to get up. "That's okay, honey," he said. "I finished the kitchen clean-up; you can just go back to sleep." (Yes, he is nice.)

"You don't understand," I sobbed. "I had 4 points left to eat today. That's 2 Twix bars. I have to get up and eat them now, before the points go away."

"Let me get this straight," said Larry. "At midnight, the Twix bars turn into a pumpkin?"

Essentially, yes. They did. Because I was too tired (from starvation, maybe?) to get out of bed and unwrap their wonderful deliciousness and consume them. Damn. And I missed Knit Night, also.

I'm trying to break Rachel of her complaining habit, or at least get her to complain in a voice that is not high-pitched and whiny. She was kvetching nonstop at breakfast this morning (reason? we were having raisins in the oatmeal, instead of jelly), so I sent her out of the kitchen, telling her she could come back when she stopped whining. She didn't return. Then she complained the rest of the morning that she was hungry.

Somehow, I don't think I won that one. And my ears hurt.

Theo had to change a poopy diaper yesterday while I was out, and he was not happy about it. But I think it's good for the teenage males to be reminded every once in a while what exactly being enamored of a pretty girl can lead to. Lord knows, it happened to his father.

I've updated my blogroll a bit, in case any of you desperate enough to land here need something decent to read. Enjoy!

Weigh-In? What Weigh-In?

So, I weighed in today, and somehow I managed to gain 2 pounds this week. While starving to death. Personally? I feel that the woman at the desk was jealous at how the pounds are just slipping off me and fudged the figures....either that, or the scale is off. But what do I care? I don't need no stinkin' weight loss. Round can be cute, so the hell with it.

What? Why, yes, I did have some chocolate when I came home. How did you know? And I just may have a little more, right now. It's okay so long as I write it down, right?

Larry came home, ate dinner, and took David to Cub Scouts. At some point this evening I may get a chance to speak with him, but it will probably be one of those conversations where I end up pointing out the zillion and one things we need to do around the house this weekend. He loves that.

The children started talking at dinner about our having another baby, and I explained to them that I am probably too old to have any more. Rachel agreed, saying, "You would die before it could grow up." Thanks, dear. And who do I have to thank for my premature aging, anyway?

Anna is interested in boys. I knew this already, and I was pretty much taking it in stride. I even gave her a funny book about dating that she actually bothered to read. But it has lately transpired that there is a specific boy who likes her. And e-mails her. And every time I think about this, I start hyperventilating. Anyone remember Kevin Bacon in "She's Having A Baby," right after Elizabeth McGovern says, "I stopped taking the Pill 3 months ago"? That whole scene where he imagines himself in the path of a powerful locomotive? That's me. I am so not ready for this.

Excuse me, I have to go breathe into a paper bag again.

By the way, I really appreciate all the comments on yesterday's post. I am relieved to hear that I am not mean (or, if I am mean, I've got lots of company) for shutting my kids in their rooms by 8 o'clock every evening. Either I do that, or I scream uncontrollably; and I do hate to frighten the children.

Children? I Don't Hear Any Children...

Larry (aka Mr. Security) has managed to load enough "protection" onto our new computer to make it almost as slow as the behemoth I was typing away on previously. You'd think, if he really wanted me to spend less time on this thing, that he would see the error of his ways, wouldn't you? Alas, I'm once again stuck watching pages load at a glacial pace; but virus-free, of course. And on a bigger screen.

As I type, Brian is indulging in one of those irritating, drawn-out whines that make the sound of fingernails on a blackboard pleasant by comparison. I cannot see the use of whining, evolutionarily speaking. It most definitely doesn't encourage the continuation of the species. Perhaps my children are a Darwinian dead end.

Dear Lord, don't let me kill him.

In other, more pleasant, child-related news, Lego's are 50 years old today. I heard on the news this evening that there are enough Lego bricks for each person on Earth to have 62 of them apiece. So, I am asking all the people who have obviously left their share in our living room to please come pick them up. Thank you.

Can you even imagine a world without Lego's? Do you realize this news means that, prior to 1958, parents had not only precious little in the way of TV to entertain their children, but also no decent toys either? What the heck did kids do? Play with sticks? Outside? All the time? Did parents back then simply shove them out the back door in the morning and slide the lock? And how many question marks can I put in one paragraph?

Brian is still whining. Say what you like, that kid has endurance.

Is there anyone else out there who cannot stand their children in the evening? I'm fine (well, I guess that may be debatable) until approximately 7:30 PM, when I suddenly realize that I have to share my entire life with these creatures and I cannot take it anymore. The whining, the nose-picking, the tattling, the Berenstain Bear books - everything becomes intolerable. So, I send them all to bed. The teenagers probably resent that a little, but tough. They need lots of sleep, anyway.

Let's not talk about kids anymore. Let's talk about knitting. So much more soothing....I'm knitting a scarf (the mistake-rib pattern from this post of Crazy Aunt Purl). Only I'm using size 13 needles. She must be a tighter knitter than I am. This is a very exciting project because I am using my brand new circular-needles kit (yes, I know you don't need circulars for a scarf; but I didn't own size 13's, which deficiency provided me with the perfect excuse to buy needles and I, um, sort of got carried away). Now I have a fun little carry-case out of which, on the merest whim, I can whip out a pair of any-size needles (from 2-15) and various size cables to connect them. I am knitter, hear me roar....

Pardon my exuberance, but knitting purchases are just so exhilarating. Better even than homeschool curricula purchases...I guess because knitting purchases don't involve children who may not want to cooperate with your plans to teach them 3 foreign languages before they are 12 years old. Knitting is just for me. Me, me, me, me, me.......

Hmmm....now I'm sounding like my 2-year-old. Maybe because Larry ("Aren't we paying 40 bucks a month for Weight Watchers?") won't let me have any more Twix bars. Even though I have 5 activity points to use up before my weigh-in tomorrow....isn't he mean?

Sex and Taxes

Aaah - I just filed our state and federal taxes.

Done.

Pretty amazing, huh? I think so. Of course, our fat refund is enough of an incentive to be proactive about filing. Gotta love that child tax credit, you know. Gosh, with all these kids, we're practically making money. Maybe we had better go have some more...

I cleaned the house and caught up on laundry this morning while Larry and the children were at church (major advantage to agreeing to raise the kids in your spouse's religion, not yours), all so I could escape to our annual Yoga Center luncheon this afternoon. It was a treat to enjoy a meal on a non-vinyl tablecloth with glassware that wasn't plastic; and no one there whined the entire time. The food was terrific, unlike the slop that I dish out day after day, week after week,....so good, in fact, that I spent the rest of the week's Weight Watcher points on it. Which is unfortunate, because I would really like to eat something tomorrow.

I did weigh-in at 2 pounds lighter last week (for a total of 4.5 pounds - go, me!); but I forgot to boast about it, what with being so busy having run-ins with the law and googling "chastity belts" to buy for my teenage daughter. This morning I informed her that if she's not mature enough to take care of a baby, she's not mature enough to be having sex with anyone. I also told her that, despite how the movies and TV make it seem, teens can resist their sexual urges and keep their clothes on. And I'm not raising her babies.

I think I embarrassed the heck out of her. Good.

Larry wants the computer - he's starting to mutter something about "wasting time" and "imaginary friends" again. He's just jealous he doesn't have a blog.

Giant Mice! Missing Husbands! Prehistoric Computers!

Apparently, things could be worse on the rodent-infestation front, from what I read in this news piece - at least the ones in our house are a manageable size. And an added bonus: I haven't come downstairs in the morning to find a mouse sitting on my kitchen counter, the way my neighbor did yesterday. So, really, I have nothing to complain about.

Let me say something nice about my teenage daughter Anna (for once). She has magnificent hair. Utterly stunning, streaked with varying shades of gold and brown and thick and wavy as a lion's mane. It is hair to die for. Hair that women spend hundreds of dollars trying to imitate. So, naturally, she spent the better part of last year trying to straighten it so it would hang limp and flat against the sides of her head.

I am happy to report that she has given up this lost cause and has instead turned to the myriad hair products out there that accentuate the curl while damping down any unattractive frizz. In fact, we haven't actually seen Anna in days. Occasionally I slip some food under the bathroom door, where she has sequestered herself in her quest for the perfect curl. Theo, meanwhile, is taking bets on whether a person can actually wear out a mirror.

My children keep baking goodies that tempt me to fall off the Weight Watcher's wagon. Anna made brownies several days ago (before she consecrated her life to hair gels), and tonight David whipped up a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Of course, Anna does hate me for existing; and I'm sure David hasn't gotten over the trauma I inflicted on him this week. What I'm saying is, I don't believe for a second that these are instances of innocent culinary activity. Revenge baking, is more like it.

Larry is still away. He is going to come back on Friday saying how he had to work really hard and it really wasn't any fun at all going to Europe and staying in hotels and eating in restaurants for work purposes, and I may just have to kill him. But only after he orders the new computer, though. I'm not sure what to get, or I would have one already. Instead, I'm still working with this old set-up that looks and acts like something on the Flintstones (I mean, if the Flintstones had had a computer) (which isn't so unrealistic, when you consider that they possessed a vacuum cleaner, okay?). I half-expect a little man to pop out from the back of the monitor with a handful of crayons and yell at me for making him draw too fast.

It occurs to me that I hyperlink too much (I'm a hyper hyperlinker, in fact); but everything I talk about here has such an involved history, and I want to make sure that newbies know what is going on. And speaking of newbies....

I'd like to say "Howdy!" to all the reviewers popping over here from humor-blogs.com. Make yourselves at home and make sure you read more than just the January posts, because, quite frankly, the funny stuff happened in October and December. It's all there: the puke, the Halloween costume ordeals, the joy of the vastly-overrated holidays....Or check out the Popular Posts to the left for some earlier laughs. It's all free!

This And That, But Not Much

I lost 2 and a half pounds this week. Which means, that I can sit down to the computer to type without having to unsnap my pants. In my mind, that's progress.

My husband has left me for the week, and he forgot to take our resident rodents with him. He's coming back Friday evening so that we can spend a pleasant weekend watching him get over jet lag. Or, rather, the kids can. I'm outta here.

Susie can now say, "I need to poop, please give me a diaper." This amazing ability to articulate her toileting needs makes me suspect that there is no reason why she shouldn't be using the potty. Except she refuses to. She also refuses to stay in her bed all evening. She's on a little power trip that should only last, oh, 16 more years. There's nothing like being the baby of the family.

No funnies here tonight, I guess. Just wanted to say hi, and thank all the people who have been stopping by. Y'all come on back now, you hear? And in the meantime, stop by Derfwad Manor and see what's up over there. Make sure to check out Mrs. G's explanation to her daughter of why PC is better than Mac. I guarantee you haven't thought of it her way before.

More Pounds, Less Dollars

Regular readers know that I have a small issue with overdue library books and late fines; nothing I can't handle, just a bad habit that costs me 10-15 dollars a month. I'm okay with that.

And I knew I was facing a hefty fine today, as Christmas and New Year's had both landed on my regular library day this year (are they always exactly a week apart?).  I expected to pay as much as 30 or even 35 dollars, like I did the year we were all sick and couldn't make it to the library for a month.

But folks, today's fine was in the triple digits. I thought I'd die. To make matters worse, I hadn't gone to my usual branch (where someone may have pitied me and erased half of it).  No! I went elsewhere and got the strict German-lady librarian, who looked as if she wanted to fingerprint me. And then take my children away, so that they wouldn't have to be raised by a criminal.

It was a lot of money.

I didn't even have the comfort of coming home and treating myself to some chocolate, because I had finally dragged myself back to Weight Watchers today. Some of you may recall my boasting about reaching my goal weight, way back in April of 2006. Yup, I was pretty proud of myself.

Well, let's not live in the past, okay? I walked up to the receptionist and said, "I haven't been here in a year and you have to promise not to say anything critical when I step on that scale." Because if she did, I knew I would cry. Fortunately, she was a nice person who had apparently dealt with similar situations. And who took 40 dollars from me, because I was over my goal weight. Just add that to my tab today. I'm trying to spend money faster than Larry can earn it, is all.

The good news was that my weight, while way up, was still 5 pounds less than what I had thought it would be - so I feel as though I lost 5 pounds today (after only one day of dieting! Cool!) Isn't Weight Watchers great?

In other news, we managed to get rid of our gingerbread house village today, despite David's best efforts to hang on to his little creation forever. I had to stuff it in an opaque garbage bag when he wasn't looking, and then I ran out to the garbage cans and threw it in. I felt like a murderer, disposing of a dismembered corpse.

Oh, and I seem to have struck a nerve with my last post - apparently, many women out there hate dinnertime with kids. I'm all for starting a new cultural trend to feed the kids early and put them to bed, much as they did in Victorian-era England. Larry and I never have been able to understand all those experts who claim that eating dinner together is a healthy family activity. We strongly suspect that they don't have any children.

Okay, I need to get back to dealing with a bunch of small people suffering candy-cane hangovers. It's not a pretty sight.



[Librarian image: Fragile What?]

[Scale image: First Aid Warehouse] 

[Family dinner image: Arya M. Sharma, MD]

Hooray, It's Not The Holidays Anymore!

I'm feeding the kids party leftovers all day. They love me. I should do this all the time. Before lunch, we played Christmas Bingo and whoever won got a Christmas cookie. I need to get all the junk food out of the house before the good times come to a crashing halt this Monday with my first official weigh-in. I hate dieting, but I also hate not being able to breathe with my jeans snapped.

I wasn't going to post a New Year's resolution; but last night, while I was having panic attacks over the fact that our computer had frozen up and realizing that I might not be able to access all the articles I've written, ever again (mostly homeschooling crap - not for general consumption), articles that I sometimes manage to sell for genuine legal tender (not much, but enough to buy myself some clothes without feeling as though I am taking food out of my children's mouths)...

Where was I? Oh, yes, last night I made my resolution: back everything up on an external drive. Constantly. Not later. Because "better late than never" does not apply in this situation.

Anyway, Larry wrapped up his nomination for Best Husband of the Year award by staying up late to do a temporary fix on the computer and get all my word docs on one of those flash drive thingies, which I will now keep under my pillow at night (in case of fire). He neglected, however, to tell me he fixed it; and so I discovered his good deed by accident after wandering downstairs in the middle of the night, unable to sleep, my writing career (humor me) flashing before my eyes all the while. Which explains all those middle-of-the-night comments I left on everyone's blogs, okay? I hope they made sense. I was giddy with relief at the time. And I missed you.

The holidays make me sort of sentimental.

And before we give Larry too much credit, let's just say he was making a sensible financial decision by fixing the computer before leaving with the high schoolers on their ski trip today - he knew that if he left me alone for 3 days with a broken computer, well, odds were I'd either call one of those Rent-A-Geek places and pay gazillion bucks to regain access to my world, as it were; or I'd decide to spend those gazillion bucks on a new computer for myself. With just my stuff on it. And I wouldn't share, ever.

We're still having to restart the computer approximately every 5 minutes, because the mouse freezes up. I e-mailed Microsoft for a hotfix and they sent me the link (ooh, don't I sound computer savvy?) and I downloaded a zip file (?) and I unzipped it - rather, the computer says I unzipped it; but maybe the computer is lying, because I can't find all the files I supposedly unzipped. So I'm stuck. Maybe I will just wander by Best Buy today...


Maria has tagged me with a birth month meme, where you take the attributes supposedly associated with your birth month (I'm June) and talk about how they apply to you. Very fortune-cookie-ish, but I like fortune cookies.


Thinks far with vision - I suppose this refers to the fact that I am constantly imagining how I will set up the house when the kids have all flown the nest.

Easily influenced by kindness - Why, yes, I am a sucker...

Polite and soft-spoken - Please. I'm from New Jersey. Get real.

Having ideas - Don't we all? I should hope so.

Sensitive - As in, one unkind comment could ruin my whole day. So, don't. Make fun of Diesel instead.

Hesitating, tends to delay - Hmmm....I don't know....I'll get back to this one later.

Choosy and always wants the best - Anyone who has seen me scarfing up store-brand chocolate chips out of the bag would want to debate this.

Temperamental - I am a woman, after all.

Funny and humorous - But, of course. Goes without saying. Ahem.

Loves to joke - As long as it's about other people (see sensitive, above).

Good debating skills - Don't you hate how anyone with an obnoxious, totally undisciplined, mouthy kid always says their little monster has "great debating skills"? "He'll make a great lawyer!" they proclaim. How about "He'll make a great a**hole!"?

Talkative - That's what my husband thinks, anyway.

Friendly - pathetically so.

Prone to getting colds - Apparently.

Loves to dress up - Yes, just so people will ask me questions that I take unreasonable umbrage at.

Easily bored - Are we done yet?

Fussy - Moi? Just because I can't sleep right if I can't find one of my special pairs of soft wool socks for bed? And the socks have to match, or my feet feel uneven and keep me up? Okay, yes.

Seldom shows emotions - Doesn't my husband wish?

Brand conscious - I don't think so (see choosy, above).

Stubborn - Of course. What? I'm going to let the stupid people with dumb ideas run the show? I don't think so.

Barb, I tag you, of course. You're always funny with these things (putting the pressure on - sorry), and it will take your mind off the move.