because I really can't get enough of myself

Alison Wonderland commented on my last post: "I'm not sure how it happened but I'm 32 and I've never even been on the cover of a magazine. Weird huh?"  Which by itself made me crack up.  But it also got me to thinking: we need our own magazine. We can call it, "Completely Boring Blogging Housewives of the World" and I'm going to be the first one featured. I'll include stuff like if I've managed to brush my teeth for the day.  Or how many times I have to buckle kids into carseats on any given week day.  And possibly -if I want the feature to be horribly awesome- I'll include minute details on how I add fabric softener to my laundry. So, clearly Alison has the next feature.  But who goes after that?  And tell me, what would you want your feature to include?

Do you ever wake up and think, "THIS is my life?  What a disappointment."  And then spend the rest of the day (week/month/life) in disgust of your non-awesome-ness? I kind of thought life would be cooler by now. I really didn't have any humongous plans for my future.  But I knew I wanted it to be good.  I planned on excitement.  Or something resembling excitement.  Don't get me wrong, stuff happens here.  Number Four almost fell down the stairs head first today and I had to run and catch her before, you know, splat.  But that's not really the kind of excitement I had hoped for. I think the most exciting thing that happened to me today was when I lost track of time and left for the bus stop too late and then had to run the last half block because Opie's bus driver is hideously strict and won't let him off the bus unless I'm RIGHT THERE.  But that's not really all that exciting either. I'm thinking about moving to a foreign count...

I think I may FINALLY be kidney stone free.  Granted I've only had a day and a half of non-pain.  But still, I think it's done.  IT BETTER BE DONE.   (If my kidney is reading this - that was a command.) I finished all 7 seasons of Buffy.  (Lots of couch time the past few weeks.)  I was going to watch all the seasons of Angel too, except that my loyalty shifted dramatically towards Spike and therefore watching Angel would have been like committing ultimate treason. Poor Spike.  I liked him even before he got his soul back.  I was pretty much devastated when he burned up in the final episode.  Until I learned online that he just gets transferred to LA and into the Angel show.  Which now means that I MUST watch Angel.  Except that I have some mega catching up to do, in the area of normal life, from all the time spent laying on my couch in unspeakably annoying kidney pain.  But I'll fit all those Angel seasons in somehow (becau...

Bees Not that I'm especially terrified of bees.  I mean, I try to avoid them whenever confronted.  But bees alone don't raise my blood pressure.  It's the combination of bees and my children. Our neighbors (neighbors that we don't particularly know personally) have now heard exactly how impressive Opie's screaming is.  Because he stood in their driveway for about 5 minutes raising his highest, loudest voice to the heavens in horrendous bee anxiety screams.  Why 5 minutes?  (Since that's a pretty long time considering the amount of screaming coming out of that kid.)  Because I was busy gathering the rest of my screaming children and all of their bikes and scooters so that we could go inside where I could beat my head against the wall repeatedly while plugging my ears and humming a mantra. Training Wheels Before all the bee screaming started my kids were already warming up their lungs because I made them SIT on a bike with...

Yeah, that was fast. But we didn't get Whitey the Third yet.  The death of a second fish in less than a week is apparently much less upsetting...to some people.  I'm thinking some kids would be upset.  But Opie just wanted to bury this one in the garden too, and then run happily along with his day. I don't think I'll ever fully figure that kid out. I was having serious thoughts a little earlier today.  About naked pregnancy pictures.  I was thinking, "Seriously, WHY?!!!!"  You know those pictures where the woman is all bare chested, and the man is all bare chested and they're embracing risque-ly and things are barely being covered and people go, "Awwwwww, your belly is so......cute."  Because they're too busy thinking, "Holy cow, I can almost see a nipple, and why would you want to show that much skin when all pregnant women tend to not look super fabulous (I don't care how round and perfect your belly is)." And th...

One of our goldfish died.  I knew it was coming.  As in, from the moment I found out we were getting goldfish.  How can you not expect goldfish to kill over?  They just do.  Also, I kind of thought Whitey was sick anyway (Whitey is the goldfish, in case there was any confusion).  The edge of his fins and tail were starting to turn black.  The worst part of Whitey's death?  He was Opie's fish.  And it was on Opie's second day of Kindergarten.  Unrelated, you say?  Nope. Opie doesn't adapt well.  Or adjust well.  Or whatever you want to call it - he doesn't do it well.  He was used to going to school every day, since he was in an early intervention preschool for 2 1/2 years.  But that was at a different school.  With the same teacher, and mostly the same kids.  Every year. New school + new teacher + new kids + dead fish = EMOTIONAL TIRADES.  Not that he doesn't throw a bunch of those at u...