March Madness

I went to bed at 7:30 yesterday evening, in an attempt to catch up on sleep and wake up all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (whatever that means) this morning. Instead, I woke up at 10 PM and couldn't get back to sleep until past midnight.

Have I mentioned how much I hate the switch to DST? Oh. Okay, then.

Today I took Anna clothes shopping so she could get a nice dress for Easter. (If this were a horror movie, the scary music would start right now.) But you know, the clothes in the stores were so ugly, there wasn't even anything for us to fight over? We managed to find a pouffy sundress with a not-disgusting pattern that wasn't too short. (JC Penney - women's department - I know someone wants to know). It took us 3 hours. And Anna didn't glare at me once. I mean, that I noticed. I hate to think what her mood would have been like had we come home empty-handed, though. Hell hath no fury like a woman unadorned....

Larry took me out for ice cream this evening. Wasn't that nice? We tried to act as though we were single and dating, but I don't think we fooled the waitstaff. Larry might as well have been wearing a ball and chain, he looked that haggard. And I'm not even talking about how I looked. I was wearing a sweatshirt with Tigger on it, okay? 'Nuff said.

You know, March isn't supposed to be a high pressure month; but within the next week, I need to celebrate St. Patrick's Day, bake hamantaschen, create Easter bags, and cook Easter dinner. I think we need to convert to a religion with no holidays whatsoever. A religion, perhaps, that doesn't believe in holidays. Because all this merrymaking is going to kill me. I mean, I'm still suffering PTSD flashbacks from December. Please, won't someone stop the madness?

For Better or Worse?

I read an interesting article in our paper yesterday about a man who is taking meticulous care of his wife (she has Huntington's Disease). I was telling Larry (on our date last night) how impressed I was by the steadfastness and loyalty of this guy, and Larry said, "Well, he's certainly raising the bar, isn't he?"

I think I had better make sure I have a good long-term care plan lined up, don't you? Just in case...

And to all of you who asked - Yes, thank you, I am feeling better. My mystery disease has finally gone away. The problem with feeling better after being sick for 2 days is that the house is totally trashed. Which makes me feel sick. It's a vicious cycle. I cannot imagine what this place would look like if something happened to me (like, death, say). Actually, yes, I can. And it's not a pretty picture.

It's late. No, it's not. I mean, it wouldn't be late if the powers that be hadn't made us mess with our clocks. But they did. So it's late. And I'm going to bed, even though I probably won't be tired enough to sleep for an hour yet.

Sweet Nothings

Well, yesterday was fun, wasn't it? Let's get back to trivial matters, however. That's what I do best. We just made the teens watch a DVD of Bob Newhart doing all his old comedy routines. I'm not sure whether they will ever forgive us, but I cannot get enough of that guy. The Driving Instructor, King Kong on the Empire State Building (as viewed by a very flustered night guard), President Lincoln's handler convincing him to "keep the beard, Abe; just keep the beard." I heart Bob Newhart. He's not bad-looking for - what? - over 70 years old? And if anyone can remember (or figure out) which season of The Bob Newhart Show had the moo-goo-gai-pan episode in it, please let me know. I want to show that to the kids, too.

See? Trivial...I warned you...

Time change coming right up! Gosh, isn't that a great idea? Trying to drag the kids out of bed an hour earlier than their bodies are used to, and in the dark? Who thought it was smart to get rid of the morning sunlight? I've been waiting all winter to have that sun streaming in my windows in the morning, and now it gets yanked away so someone can have a BBQ in the evening? In March? Last I checked, more than half of you were still buried in snow.

I don't get it. I just don't get it. I would be happy if we could just leave those clocks alone, all year-round. There was research done (in Indiana, which finally got with the clock-switching program) that proved that DST actually uses more energy, not less. Because (surprise!) people still need to get up for work and school in the morning, and no one likes to shower and get dressed in the dark. Duh.

Nothing like a time change to make me realize just how powerless I am...

It's my bedtime, folks (well, for 2 more nights, anyway...). If you're staying up, hop on over to Mrs. G's for some dead-on marriage advice...you'll be glad you did.

Thanks For The Memories

Yup, we're all mixed up, time-wise. In case you were wondering. And I had the pleasant experience of being woken up by Anna yelling at Rachel to "Get out! Just get out!" because Rachel was trying to get dressed at the early hour of 8 (well, 7, but I'll stick to Daylight Savings Time for this little anecdote, since Anna went to bed in DST, and really, 10 hours should be enough not to get too annoyed).


I don't remember when I agreed to relive high school. I had to spend an hour and a half in the car with 3 14-year-old girls this afternoon and I hated every minute of it. Funny, but until today, I had assumed that parents tell their kids that screaming and yelling in the car (at least over the age of 2) is out of bounds. And, while they're at it, that listening to an IPod when no one else in the car has one is sort of rude and immature. Maybe they could even find time to tell their darling little IPod-wearer that her hearing could be damaged when that thing is playing loudly enough to make the driver think that the car radio is on.

Okay, I'm jealous. I don't have one. Yet.

Do you remember in high school, hating being near the obnoxiously popular kids and praying they would not notice you and make you feel even nerdier and less cool than you already felt? Now, imagine that you feel like that at home, all the time. I'm living a nightmare and I can't wake up. And Anna thinks that the time until she can go away to college is passing too slowly? I am so ready to send her.

Tell me, is there anything - anything at all - about raising teenagers that is rewarding? I mean, babies and little kids are lots of work, but then there are those moments when they laugh and smile and say, "I love you" that make it all worth it. And when they are learning to walk and to run and to ride a bicycle, it is all so exciting and I feel so proud of them. I just don't get those same warm fuzzies when I'm teaching Theo to drive, or when Anna is getting visibly annoyed by my mere presence. Where's the fun part?

I got started on my next pair of socks while waiting for the girls to finish flute choir rehearsal. I'm very proud of myself for learning how to knit socks this year, and I've showed them off to lots of people; but I must admit that no one is exactly begging me to gift them with some handknitted socks for Christmas. I haven't quite learned the technique whereby the socks actually look attractive. They each have a heel, and an interesting-looking toe, and they sort of fit; but they lack a certain je ne sais quoi. But no matter - I start each new pair with hope springing afresh that these will be the ones that make people ooh and aah in admiration (right now my friends just sort of stare at my finished product in a puzzled fashion and then exclaim, "Oh! It's a sock!"). You know, Edison tried a hundred different materials for the innards of his incandescent light bulb before he hit on tungsten; and I'm only on my 5th sock.

That wasn't a great analogy, but it was the best I could do. I'm tired, because although the clock says 9, it is really 10. And I wish someone would just abolish this clock-switching routine, it gets on my nerves. As if life weren't complicated enough....