The Times, They Are A-Changing

My husband kept part of the paper for me because he knew I'd appreciate this girl's workspace:

The addition of little Jedi-0 has resulted in some changes to my routine.  

(By the way, this is a shot of him smiling at the light fixture in our bedroom. He's having a love affair with that light.)

 
Thus, my current workspace:

Not that my little assistant seems to care.  He's become a big boy and only cares about video games.  Quote:  "This guy's AWE-some!"

Production just isn't quite what it used to be.

Really?

This is what I got from Groupon this morning.  Did I mention I'm getting old?

53% Off Colon Hydrotherapy Your body is a temple, and it sometimes needs a good dusting of the ductwork to make especially devout microbes take their leave. Tend the temple and polish the pipes with today's Groupon: for $59, you get a 90-minute colon-hydrotherapy... Lawrence 11 Mi from Home

Contemplating Testosterone Injections

My five-year-old is able to get to the second level on Super Mario Bros.  He's only played it a handful of times.  Back in the glorious 80's, on a borrowed Nintendo system, it took me weeks to accomplish that feat.

Do you think there's a study that links the presence/amount of testosterone to the level of video game aptitude?

My boys pick up a remote and their thumbs instinctively perform the proper sequence of video game morse code.  I have no such ability.  My attempts involve over-exaggerated jerks of the remote, frequently accompanied by a symphony of squeals and yelps.

I am becoming increasingly aware of my inept female-ness in this household . . . and, come on, I even own a drill press!!  I shudder to think of what my future holds as these boys continue to grow.  Maybe at tonight's 2am feeding, I'll get up and practice Super Mario Bros. while I nurse little Jedi-0.

A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.

Pull Out the Purple Polyester!

I turned 35 last month.  It hasn't had the same heart-wrenching, now-I-have-to-buy-mom-jeans effect as when I turned 30, but I've definitely felt like "Man, I'm old!"

Just the other day while driving back from dropping my little assistant off at preschool, I was shoving french fries in my mouth two at a time, and, in a moment of out-and-out panic, I thought, "When did I turn into Leoda?!"


Leoda was a neighbor up the road that my mom rode horses with on a regular basis.  She was a rather "sturdy" woman who often wore figure-conforming purple pants and owned two Palomino horses, hers being named Taco.  I can still recall the rhythmic, laboring grunts of poor Taco as Leoda bounced up and down during a fast trot. 




But the real point of this reminiscing is that on the rare occasion that Mom would treat us by going out to Long John Silver's with Leoda, Leoda always ate her french fries two at a time.  My sister and I would watch as she pounded down those greasy fries like a competitive eating champion.  Undoubtedly as a result of this trauma, for years now, I've carefully eaten my fries one at a time . . . at least I thought I had.  Somewhere along the line--perhaps after that fateful 35th birthday--I'd cast my solemn vow aside and become Leoda.

Ostensibly, I was trying to quickly eat something before becoming the milk station for the screaming child behind me, but upon reflection, I have to wonder if I was really just making paltry excuses.

Does this mean I have to buy purple pants now?

Resolutions: Projections of Hope or Predictions of Failure?

It's that time of year again, the time for donning rose-colored glasses and making lofty resolutions.

But first, an update on last year's resolutions: 

1. Procrastinate less. (Yes, I know I already procrastinated about making my resolutions. Leave me alone.)

* I'm pretty sure I used the term procrastination at least 1, 312 times in my blog this past year.  But perhaps that's less than the year before?   I'll check later.

2. Create more. Enough said.

* It's a miracle.  I did create more, even with a rotund, pregnant belly!

3. Limit myself to one Coke a day. And, by Coke, I mean that caramel-colored, effervescent liquid of the gods. (Note: No diet drinks will be included in this resolution--I'm trying to lose weight, not perform miracles.)

* No comment, and, no, I'm not wearing an "Enjoy Coke" t-shirt even as I type this.  

4. Clean more regularly, thus eliminating the onset of despair and tornadic aftermath.

* My mom came over, took pity on me, and cleaned more regularly.  Does that count?

5. Conquer the laundry. Or at least prevent others from running out of clean underwear.

* Current status of the laundry in my room:

6. Don't kill the new fish.
* It's not my fault.  Somehow the fish froze to death in his bowl in November.  I suppose I should've moved the bowl away from the drafty kitchen, but how was I to know? The most disturbing part?  My mom thought the boys would want to bury him, so she put him in a small brown jewelry box/coffin in the freezer until the funeral.  He's still there. 

We almost took him as a White Elephant gift to my husband's Christmas party, but decided someone might find that to be in bad taste.

Perhaps resolutions aren't my strong suit.  I think I'm going to take a little more time before I make this year's.  Right now, all I've got is "Sleep through the night," and I don't have much control over that one.