Today is Sean's birthday. Lets all yell a big happy birthday to him. On 3. Ready? 1, 2, 3, Happy Birthday!

Thanks.

So remember last year on Sean's birthday? My sisters showed up at our restaurant in Illinois and totally shocked me. You can read the story here.

This year I hope there are no surprises in store. I will be content with a nice quiet birthday celebration this weekend.

But happy birthday, Sean. I love you, I really do. I hope you have a great year ahead.

Honor Code

Sean started back to school today. Normally when my kids start school, I do a dance on the table because I'm overjoyed to have my days back to normal.

Today, I didn't really do that. I'm sort of sad to lose my househusband. He's been doing all the wifely duties (well, not all of them, I'm still the only one who can do certain things of that nature), and that has given me a lot of time to run, and work, and read, and just hang out. See, I'm sad.

He did have to do something that he dreads though. He had to shave off his goatee. Well, it's not really a goatee, because I think a true goatee involves connecting chin hair to lip hair, and he cannot for the life of him grow lip hair. So maybe that makes it just a goat. Or maybe just a Tee. Anyway, he told me he was jealous of me. Not because I get to stay home and chill with the kids, but because I get to keep my mustache.

Jerk.

I think he's just jealous.

And for the record, I work dang hard at keeping this puppy at bay. We're talking Nair, hot wax, plucking and lots and lots of praying. It's not my fault that he had to sign the honor code and I didn't. Maybe I'll let it grow out just to spite him.

Ooh, Baby Baby

I have 3 girls. I love them dearly. Most of the time. Right now the 3 year old is riding hard on my last nerve, and most days I can scarcely make it through without reprimanding her at least a few times. That's my literary way of saying I have to tell her to knock it off repeatedly, or she's grounded.

She doesn't care, because she doesn't know what grounded even means. Perhaps I should use a better tactic?

Anywho, people ask me all the time if I'm ever sad that we don't have a boy. They think that Sean needs a son, or that somehow our family isn't complete because we only have girls. I say we're done.

But.

Yeah. There's a huge but. That's b-u-t, not b-u-t-t, which I don't have because I have no butt. But I have a but when it comes to the family tree. Last night we were watching the Duggars (whom I love to pieces, as we all know) and Sean starts in that he wants another baby. He doesn't even care if it's a girl or a boy.

Oy.

Let's revisit the last pregnancy, shall we? Weeks 3-7, miserably sick. Weeks 7-16, still sick, bedbound and unable to walk or get dressed or bathe or cough or sneeze without screaming in pain. Weeks 17-24, pleasant and comfortable. Weeks 25-36, bedbound again with blood pressure through the roof, culminating in a birth a month early. And what did all this misery get me? An annoying 3 year old.

Yeah, lets do that again.

So I say we're done. Sean says that's fine. But if he brings up the baby thing, does that mean we're not done? Do men get a say in this? Or should I just junk punch him in his giant inflated scrotum and tell him to mind his own business, because it's my uterus?

How did you know when it was time for another or when you were done?

It's A Post, Okay?

Honestly, I have totally lost my blog mojo. It's scary, because that's sort of like losing love for my children. Okay, that may be a slight exaggeration, but my blog is such an extension of me, that it pains me to forget about it for a day or two at a time. I mean when was the last time you forgot about your kids for a day or two? Me? I plead the fifth on that one.

So I've come up with just random things that are going on in my life. If you want to stop reading now, feel free. I'm just not that exciting, I know.

My lawn needs to be mowed. Badly. We're starting to look like those neighbors. You know what I'm talking about, you all have them. Yeah, that's us.

I have a new obsession with home made tortilla chips. So good. So deep fried and salted with kosher salt. Yum.

I'm running a 5K in June. June 19th actually. I'll take buddies, so if you feel like running, give me a ring (or an email, which I'm more prone to answer anyway), and we'll do it together. It just so happens to be on the day my mom was diagnosed with cancer, so I'll be running in her memory. (insert "awwws" here.)

I'm in love with my iPhone. I can't quit it. Seriously, all those free apps, and internet everywhere? How can this not make my life so much better?

I've officially turned my wifely duties over to Sean, who has taken the reigns and sped off. He is the king of laundry, dishes, vacuuming, you name it. I'm totally spoiled.

This gives me time to surf the net and find more stuff I "need" for my running. I just bought an Amphipod belt with 2 bottles on the recommendation of a friend, and my goodness sakes, it is a life saver. I also need new shoes, better socks, a heart rate monitor that works with my Garmin, and more music for my playlists. I don't think that's too much to ask, do you?

So that's pretty much it. Like I said, if you kept reading, I'm not that exciting. Not that I'm complaining, I've had my fill of changes and excitement for a while. But at least I got a post out of all that, so there.

Drama-Rama

Apparently Sean doesn't quite get my humor yet. You see, yesterday, I posted that if my next husband takes me to a buffet for our wedding dinner, I'd junk punch him and storm out, blah blah blah.

Sean was mad.

I thought it was funny.

He didn't.

So we had some middle of the night drama. I shouldn't blog about personal stuff, because you know me, and you know how discreet I am when it comes to what I say about my life, but I think I really hurt his feelings.

So I apologize, honey.

I wouldn't dare junk punch a man at a buffet, that would just be rude.

A Big Fat Fairy Tale

So for Valentines Day, we celebrated in style! I mean, would you expect anything less from me?

Sean and I headed up to Logan to help Spencer move from one apartment to another. He told us he didn't really need help, he could get most of it moved in his car, but we insisted since we are official moving pro's now.

He was right, he didn't need us. It took us two loads and about an hour. Now that's the way to move.

But we had an excuse to get up to Logan and take in the town and see the campus and spend the night at the Crystal Inn. See? Classy, huh? Actually, it's my favorite place to stay in Logan. It's nice, and cheap, and they have free breakfast! Huzzah!

Anywho, we were moving. It was snowing. Again, we know how it is to move in winter. But Sean thought flip flops in Logan in February was appropriate footwear. Things were going to happen. He was carrying a table ( yes, all by himself, he's so strong!) and hit a patch of ice. You know how they say they bigger they are, the harder they fall? It's true. He fell hard. Don't worry, the table is fine. But Sean? He dislocated something. Not a knee, not a shoulder. Not even an ankle.

He dislocated some fat.

Yes, fat.

He said as he was falling, the middle section of fat became airborne, and as he hit the sidewalk, the fat bottomed out and pulled something. He's pretty sore. But I got a pretty good laugh at his expense.

It was a fine ending to our fairy tale weekend away. Well, that, and some of the yummiest fries and fry sauce ever from A&W in Logan.

Merry Merry

Here's the obligatory Christmas morning post. I know you'll all just skip the witty commentary for the pictures, so have at it.





We had Michelle and her kids here the night we set up the tree. They loved the dog, and had I known we'd be moving in a week after this picture was taken, I would have gladly wrapped up that dog and sent her home with them.


Um, okay. He does like the Bears, can you tell? And bears like trees, so I guess this is acceptable behavior.


Hope yours was as Merry as ours.

12 Years

Well, my wedding dress is officially wwaaayyy out of style, my body has gone to Hell, and my mind is crazy with voices and stresses of everyday life.

But 12 years ago Sean agreed to love me no matter what.

Sucker.

Love you, Sugar Daddy.

Don't worry, there will be no divorce papers today.

Daily Update

Well, I have to say, I think I have the bestest readers in the world. I received so many positive emails and comments, I think I may just make it through all this.

But I should probably give a little update so you all know what's going on in this head of mine.

First, Sean is scheduled to have his hernia surgery on Monday. The 21st. Like 4 days before Christmas. Sounds like bad timing, but it's a blessing really. Pray that it all goes well, and that he recovers quickly.

Second, despite looking for a job here in Illinois, there is this gaping hole on Sugar Daddy's resume. See, he never finished college. I know! But he was too busy working is way up through the company, and now here we are. So thanks to the help of our families, he will be starting school in January or March, depending on...

Third, we will be moving back to Utah as soon as Sean is healed and ready. He'll be starting school full time there. We're shooting for just after the New Year, but we'll see how that goes. His health and safety are most important, so that is the determining factor.

Fourth, there was a big post coming about our new house, with pictures and everything, but now that we'll be moving, it doesn't seem post-worthy. It's too bad, too, because we really love it. But it's just a thing, and things come and go.

So there you have it. Pretty much our life in a nutshell for today. I'm so grateful for the positive and uplifting thoughts and prayers. We truly know how blessed we are. I'll be posting daily, and hopefully not just about this, but mostly about this, because this is my life, and I have to write this stuff down, or my brain hurts.

Fun For Friday, Sort Of, But Not Really

So yesterday will forever rank up there as one of the worst days of my adult life.

#1 being the day my mom died.

#2 being yesterday.

Yep, that bad.

We were completely blindsided and our lives changed course forever.

Lets just say Sugar Daddy left for work at his usual time, and appeared back home a couple of hours later, pale, distraught, and befuddled. In his back pocket was stuffed a big yellow envelope. With his walking papers.

Yep, he was let go yesterday. After 16 years. 2 weeks before Christmas. And 6 days after we moved into a new house. Life is good.

So now we regroup, reevaluate, and reexamine our lives to decide what this means for us. In the meantime, Christmas was taken care of early this year, thank goodness, and we have stopped unpacking any remaining boxes because odds are we won't be here long. Life is good, indeed.

Oh, we also lose our health insurance next month, he needs surgery to fix his hernia (acquired at work, go figure), and I need my happy pills to survive. Life is wonderful.

So please excuse me when I say, Merry Freaking Christmas!

Speechless

Me being speechless doesn't happen very often. In fact, I can only remember a few times in my life when words have failed me. But Friday night was one of these times, and by far the most memorable.

So here we sit at dinner, we're celebrating Sugar Daddy's 34th birthday, waiting for our 2 extra guests to join us. I thought they were friends of ours we've been trying to meet up with for a while now and our schedules kept evading our connections. We ordered our drinks (diet Cokes and Cokes just to clarify, although for some reason our lack of alcohol consumption brought a little giggle from our waitress), and an appetizer to hold us over for our tardy companions.

We wait. And wait. Finally, I am getting so hungry I decide it's time to order without them. We place our orders and begin our usual round table chatter. I'm chatting away, when Sugar Daddy says "Oh, here they are". I don't even look up, I just finish my animated conversation and glace over my shoulder to nod a hello to our friends.

Only what to my disbelieving eyes would be in the stead of our tardy guests, but my two sisters all the way from Salt Lake and Las Vegas!

My jaw literally fell open, and I was absolutely speechless.

I was certain it was a flashback of some sort, so I didn't immediately respond with the requisite scream or squeal, that would have seemed strange to those not participating in said flashback. So I just stared at them in disbelief. Utter disbelief.

I had no idea they had been planning this trip for over a month. Sugar Daddy knew. His friends knew. My father in law knew, and even Noel knew a little while before they showed up, and no one, naddaone of them, let on that anything was up.

After the round of hugs and kisses and more and more hugs, I was pretty sure I was going to pee my pants after drinking 4 glasses of water on an empty stomach while we waited for them to arrive, so I excused myself and went to the ladies room to do my business. (And also to Facebook about it, because I do that a lot when I'm on the toilet. So do you, don't lie!) When I returned I was still pretty sure it was all a dream. But there they sat, in all their flesh and blood, at my table, there to see me, and to prove that they are the best.sisters.ever.

I love you guys!

More of our fabulous weekend to come!

It's Downright Scary Around Here

See what I mean?


We were blessed to have a box full of meat delivered to our house, yes, meat, in the mail, it's fine, really, and it was packed in dry ice. We've found that dry ice is pretty darn hard to come by in Chicagoland, so this was a real treat for the kids to see.

I promptly immersed it in water, and after a stern warning about not touching the actual ice, let the kids play in the "smoke". It was hours of fun. Immediately after taking this picture, I realized a glass bowl probably isn't the safest vessel for dry ice, so I found my last surviving Tupperware bowl and swapped it out.

After Sugar Daddy arrived home and had sufficiently wiped the drool from his chin upon seeing a box full of steaks and chops and ribs (oh my!), he plodded out to the back yard with a 2 Liter bottle with a smidge of water in the bottom and a (gloved) handful of dry ice. In went the dry ice, on went the lid and BOOM! went the bottle. It flew into the neighbors backyard. It made all the kids cry. It was awesome!

Of course, the next day Sugar Daddy had to call the person that sent the meats, and tell him we were very thankful for his generosity, but that we are strict vegans. Could he please send someone to pick up the meat and redistribute it? He almost got that out without cracking up!

Can anyone say Filet Mignon? Nothing's scary about that!

The Cup Overfloweth

Blogger is being a butt head today, and won't let me upload any pictures, so instead you get thoughts, a la moi. If you want pictures, go to my Facebook and you can see the Kentucky album there. It's not really worth the trip though, I'll be honest. It's pretty lame.

Anybugger. Thoughts.

Sugar Daddy and I have been married almost 12 years. That's like forever in Keli time. I'm not a sentimental person, and I don't keep things around for 12 years. My baby pictures? Shoved in a bag in a drawer somewhere. Our marriage license? Who knows. I'm just not that kind of person.

So for me to keep a husband around for 12 years is a pretty big deal. Especially considering some days are touch and go.

But there is one more thing that has stuck around for those 12 years. No, it's not the crabs, I got rid of those weeks ago.

It's a blue cup. An ugly plastic blue cup. We got it when we got married. Not sure who gave us said cup, but as a note to future wedding gift purchasers, don't give people crappy blue plastic cups. That's just mean. But this cup is invincible. From day one it found it's way into our shower. Our first tiny apartment had the water pressure of an old man at midnight, and we needed the cup for an extra shot of rinse water.

Then we moved into the ancient house, and again we were left with spotty water pressure, so the cup dutifully provided.

Finally we moved into our brand new house, and though the water pressure was magnifico, that cup couldn't seem to find any place to call home, save the shower. Once Emma came along a few months after our move-in, that cup became the rinse aid in the baby tub. Then it progressed to the big tub. And there it has lived ever since.

2 more homes, and 2 more kids, and it lives on in the bathtub. At the risk of someone calling DCFS, I'll tell you that in those 12 years, this cup has never once been washed properly. It is faded and dented, and the edges are raw with use, but it stays fairly clean on its own.

Then the other day I noticed a small crack down the side of this precious goblet. It seems the blue cup is on its way out. Will I ever find a suitable replacement? Probably not. It has always been a fixture in our home, and I'm sad to see it go.

But like Sugar Daddy and I, it's touch and go. It could last, it could fail. I think it's all in how we treat it.

Important Things

Surprisingly, Sugar Daddy has a perfect driving record. This seems so funny to me, even as his wife, because he has tendencies toward road rage (minor) and speeding (medium), and even erratic driving (major). He tries to talk on his phone, shift, and steer, all at the same time. It's tricky, trust me, I've tried it. I'm not great at it. He can do it with no problems, sometimes even balancing a refreshing beverage in his hand. It's a gift, really.

But his perfect record has nearly been marred a couple of times. Once, 11 years ago, on a lonely road North of Kemmerer, Wyoming, as we headed hurriedly up to Jackson Hole for our honeymoon, a bored Highway Patrol officer pulled us over for speeding. After seeing us in our newly wedded bliss, and I'd like to think a strong stirring from the Spirit, he let us go with just a warning. Whew.

Last weekend again, we were hurrying home from Utah, only this time instead of newly wedded bliss, we had 3 kids sleeping and a truck bed packed to the hilt with Christmas loot. A Lincoln, Nebraska construction zone can be a lonely place at 2 AM, so when those red and blues turned on, it nearly caused an anal hygiene problem for me, if you know what I mean. I instinctively opened up the glove box to get out the registration and proof of insurance, ( you see, I'm really no stranger to the routine) as the friendly police officer approached my side of the truck.

It is at this point 3 things happen simultaneously. First, I realize we have no current proof of insurance. They are all expired, some just barely (August), and some for quite a while ( January of 07). Second, I see our registration is a little iffy, at best. Sure, it has the county in which we live, but no home address, no name to which the vehicle is registered, and no make or model of the vehicle. Hmmm, weird. And third, I get a gut instinct that this officer is only looking for drunk drivers on this the first night of the year. I know that none of our misdeeds is enough for him to care about.

Sure enough, he takes Sugar Daddy back to his vehicle, makes small talk with him while he runs our plates, and proceeds to tell him he and his wife are expecting their first child in June. I think once he saw the 3 kids, and heard we were from Utah, he figured there were probably a few extra wives and several dozen children awaiting our return. Which is fine, I think it's kind of a fun stereotype to let people believe. It makes me chuckle.

So despite our lacking proper papers, and the fact that we were doing 11 over in a construction zone, Officer Goodeed let us go with just a warning. Wow. Again, we made it by the skin of our teeth.

And Sugar Daddy continues his perfect driving record. Much to my chagrin, as I have had a couple of incidents with red lights, and garbage cans. No matter. It keeps our insurance down, and it makes him feel superior to all the other drivers on the road. And that's what is most important.

But stay tuned for tomorrow's installment of "why it's good to have a golf club shaped hitch plug when you live in an icy environment", or "thanks to Jill's fabulous gift, she has saved us thousands of dollars in deductibles". Trust me, you don't want to miss it.

Snow + Power = Hilarity

Cousin Chad is so sweet. He always has something fun up his sleeve, and is endlessly entertaining our kids. One day, he'll make a great dad, but for now, we'll take him as our surrogate. This particular day, a day or two before Christmas, we headed over to his parents house, and spent hours (okay, maybe an hour) pulling the kidlets around on sleds behind the 4 wheelers. It brought back many a fun childhood memory, as we spent most of our winters this way.

It was a cold day, so Chad built us a fire by which we could warm ourselves. As you can see, it didn't feel cold to me, since it was at least 30, and it hasn't gotten up to 30 in my hometown for months, now. It felt balmy to me.


Here I am, pulling Brent on the snowboard. He did better than I thought he would, and apparently, he was cracking me up. Yes, you see correctly, I have no coat on. Honestly, the only thing that got cold on me was my hands. I'm so tough.


Here's poor Livvy. She was the first casualty of the evening. Bloody nose, fat lip, and not a peep of discomfort from her. She was such a good sport. She was very brave, and wouldn't give up, even with blood streaming down her face and onto her coat.

Sugar Daddy and Emma driving around like they own the place. I think Duane was a little miffed when Sugar Daddy decided to take a spin through his garden, so I had to put a stop to that right off. Emma loved driving, though, and I think some 4 wheelers are in our near future.



Here's Kinney slamming righteously into Brent's car. You see, Sugar Daddy was a little slow on figuring out the whole "whip the sled around, but avoid obstacles at all costs" thing. Good thing Brent is leaving on his mission, here to Chicago!, in a couple of months. I doubt he'll even notice the dent her head left. Although she does tend to walk in circles, now.

I have some cute photos of Gabe and Eli, too, but blogger is being picky, and won't upload them. I don't know why. Maybe because they are 2 of the cutest boys Ev.Er. and blogger feels like keeping the fairest in the land hidden away.

I also have one of Maggie having what could be the best time of her life. If you can sense my sarcasm here, it's fully intended. That girl is afraid of everything. For her, wearing layers of clothes, gloves, boots and a hat, along with the loud sound of the 4 wheelers, was totally overwhelming. She hardly moved from my side, or from the fire pit, the entire time. Oh, except for when I literally shoved her into my lap on the sled so we could go for a ride together. Yeah, she screamed the whole time. I know, I know, slap the parent of the year award right here next to my many others, but my dad did that kind of stuff to me, so I figure it can't be all that harmful, right? I mean, I turned out perfectly.

Whew. Almost.

There is much more to this title than you will ever know. Surprisingly, I do keep a lot of my personal life to myself. But there are a few meanings that I can expound upon here.

1. We made it to Utah in just under 25 hours. That's driving time, people. We encountered 100 slide offs in Des Moines, and just after passing through the city, realized they had closed the highway behind us. Good times. But we made it. I have a picture of what Diesel fuel does when it gets too cold. You'll see it soon.

2. Christmas was good. The kids had a great time, got too many presents, and ate too much junk food. Just like Christmas should be. We were all dreading the holiday without mom around, and it turned out just fine. All the grandkids got teddy bears with outfits on that are made from Nunn's clothes. They are so adorable, and we all had a good cry. Then TroyBoy pulls out purple hand made bracelets for us girls, and they all have little sterling sliver ribbon charms on them. Another good cry ensued. You'll see pictures of those, too.

3. Yesterday, the 30th, Sugar Daddy and I celebrated 11 years of wedded. Bliss, okay, wedded bliss. And Meg also go married yesterday. Yes, she went through with it. Nevermind the shackles and gags that were involved to get her to say "Yes" at the appropriate time. Kidding people, kidding. Fear not, there will be oodles of picture of that day to follow.

4. We saw Body Worlds today. So cool. The science behind it is amazing, but to see how delicate life is reinforces to me that God is in everything. There is just no doubt after seeing that. Not that there ever was, but you know what I mean.

5. Tonight is New Year's Eve. We are spending the evening with Troyboy and Kelli making home made pizza with artichokes and olives. Mmm Mmm good. Do you think I could get sued for using that as my motto? Oh well.

6. Which means that this year is almost over. If someone had told me last year what 2008 would hold, I would have laughed. Now, I know there are no limits to what life can bring. So, in keeping with that frame of mind, my resolution for the year is to work on enhancing my food storage. Before you start sending me links to places to buy powdered water, and ways to preserve chicken hearts for 100 years, let me explain that I don't plan on doing that kind of food storage. I mean the kind that entails extra supplies of things I use deliberately, daily even. Not stuff I will shove in a corner of my basement and forget about until my 14th child needs a bedroom down there.


So, I hope you are fully prepared for the onslaught of pictures that are to follow. Life has been good to me for the last two weeks, and as much as I hate to leave my family, I'm ready to get back to reality.

Good Santa, Bad Santa

We had our annual Ward Christmas party on Saturday night, as did the rest of the Mormon world, I think. Being on the newly formed activities committee, we were in charge of various aspects of the party. Part of the food, including baking 5 bags of potatoes, the paper products, and finding a suitable (get it, suit?) Santa, were all left up to us. After volunteering said Santa, there were a few weeks where we weren't sure we would even have a Santa. Luckily, he came around, and decided it would be good for his soul, not to mention his sleeping habits, since if he had rejected the part, he would be sleeping on the couch. We procured a suitable suit from neighbor Kate, and Voila! Santa was born.


Santa with some neighborhood girls. Excellent babysitters, these girls. Look how excited they are!


Who knew Santa had such big beautiful blue eyes?


And here he is telling a sweet story of the symbolism of the candy cane. He did an excellent job. He knew most of the kids by name, which is always a plus when you're playing the part of Santa. The only "oopsie" moment, was when we realized he had on brown shoes, and not black. Eh, small details.


All in all, it was a great night. We had plenty of potatoes, ran out of side dishes, and had to make an emergency run to Jewel for more cookies for dessert. But everyone had a good time, and we fed and entertained about 165 people for 2 hours. Not bad. And our Bishop gave us a count, saying he thought we had at least 40 non-members or investigators present. Wow. That's unheard of in Utah. I don't even know 40 non-members in Utah! It's refreshing to see the community all come together to celebrate a common thread, regardless of religion.

That was our one big party, and now we're pretty much taking it easy until the Memorial Day picnic. I think we are planning a Spring service project, but we have to wait until the ice melts (around May) before we decide exactly what it will be. Now, it's all about getting us to Utah, through our first Christmas without Mom, and having the best wedding ever!

Sugar Daddy's Day

Happy Birthday to you, my dear Sugar Daddy. There are so many things I love about you, so here are just a few.

• You can fix anything.
  
• You watch "Ice Princess" just to see the ending.
  
• You have an immense love for jackets and coats of all styles.
• You snore like a fog horn.
  
• You are always thinking of the girls and I, and ways to make our lives easier.
  
• You take out the garbage cans every Thursday.
  
• You like your sleep time.
  
• You can make friends with just about anyone.
  
• You do all the ironing.
  
• You love me and the girls more than anything else.
  
• And we love you too!
  

Have a great day!

There's also a sweet blurb about Sean over at Terrill's blog, so you can check that out here.

Leave A Message At The Beep

Keli can't come to the blog right now. You see, she and her Sugar Daddy have gone to the city for a night on the town. Good food, good shopping and good... Well, use your imagination. Let's just say it's been a while since they have been away from the kids.


So, Hyatt Regency, here they come. Thanks to Hotwire.com for getting them a great deal, and thanks to Grandpa for watching the kids. Don't expect pictures, because it's not that kind of trip.

Later alligator.

This Is Life

I have a killer cold. If I was a man, it would be a "man cold". And if I was motivated at all, I would put a super duper link to the "Man Cold" on YouTube, but you can "Tube" it yourself, cause I'm lazy like that. I fell asleep at 8:00 last night. It rocked. But I still feel like total crap.
*Oh, alright, I linked it. Geez. Now I need a nap.

Gretta is repeatedly trying to wedge herself under my computer chair. With each and every attempt, she bonks her head, hard, on the frame. And yet she continues to try. Tenacious, yes. Mentally ill, possibly.

I have seen Sugar Daddy a total of 15 minutes this week. No, that's a bad thing. See, it's his busy season, getting everything sorted out to different retailers for their Christmas sales. Which means he works at 5AM and gets in just after 7PM. I know I shouldn't complain because it's much harder on him than it is on me, but it's my blog, so I can complain about whatever I want. And tonight he's partaking in the Cubs vs. Brewers game in Milwaukee, so that means he won't be home until after midnight. I don't feel bad for him, though.

Maggie had her first dance class yesterday. Yeah, I'm such a good mom, I forgot the camera.

Emma missed the bus yesterday. Again. So she was late.

Gretta has a fever, a rash, and a limp. This warranted a trip to the ER, but she checked out fine.

My slutty dog has decided it's much more fun to spend the days philandering around the neighborhood than being cooped up in the house with a sick bitchy mom. I rarely know if she's in or out. And to be honest, I don't care anymore.

Oh, and I've been wearing the same pair of denim capris all week. I change my shirt and bra, of course, and my undies, but the pants, they just keep calling my name. I need a new pair. Or pairs.

Feel free to slap the Mother of the Year award right here.