Spring? Really?

Do we blame the Groundhog?

Did someone forget to wake Mother Nature?

All I know is I am ready for sandals and capris, but no, tomorrow, the first day of spring, I will bundle up me and the kids and send them off to school in snowpants, snowboots, hats, gloves and with their sleds.

Lucky freaking me.

Happy St. Patty's Day

As everyone is decked out in their green today, a green pickup will be taking our weeklong guests away. Jaye and Brent and Corbin have been with us since Sunday. Our town has very little to offer tourists and other out-of-towners, but I hope that they are glad that they made the trip. They were able to be here for Maddie’s birthday.

Brent, Jaye, and David had a lip-smacking time sampling hot wings.

Brent read (I think) all of the Harry Potter books this week.

Isaac had a PlayStation buddy in Brent.

Jaye was able to be with Maddie at Activity Days.

Jaye and I had a great chat with Jill last night as she lay in her hospital bed minus her appendix.

Jaye and I had our traditional late night WalMart trip. About these shopping adventures: we tend to get a bit silly. Last night was no different. Jaye looked around, decided she had no witnesses, and did the sly kick-from-behind and got ME right in the behind. She kicked me so hard that I literally held my butt like a child. Good times. On this day of green (which is also the day Chris W. turns 30), new information has come that our time in Montana is not yet up (as we had hoped). I have been holding my breath all week with rumor of relocating closer to home. So we’re here for now. I still must have something to do here in this cold, brown, flat, remote small town.

Unanswerable Questions

Is it bad water-cooler-ethics to gulp down your glass of water while still standing at the water cooler so that you can immediately refill it, avoiding yet another trip across the office? Am I too old to wear T-shirts with graphics or messages? Is it weird that at the age of (gulp) 31 I am tempted to buy a shirt that says “whatever I feel like, GOSH!”? Or that my husband bought me a Lucky Charms T-shirt? How old is too old? I just cannot answer some questions, and leave it up to the better judgment of others. Please help me avoid embarrassment and social suicide by guiding me through these uncharted mazes sponsored by (none other than) life itself.

My Fingers Got Away From Me

I was stunned and saddened this morning when I read that Christopher Reeves' widow, Dana, passed away yesterday. After forwarding the news on to my favorite email buddies (JP, SarahMarinara, and Toni), JP wondered if I was sure she died of Lunch Cancer. Oops. I quickly apologized and made the correction, that she had unfortunately died of lung cancer. JP came back with "Whew...I was worried that even LUNCH was dangerous...".

Six Year Olds And Their Fabulous Logic

It is absolutely mind boggling how kids, sometimes even at the ripe old age of six, can find and point out logic for us old people. The kids and I share a bathroom (sometimes David too, but he has his own). Many mornings we trip over each other while one brushes hair, one brushes teeth, and the other puts on make-up, just like any other family. Sadly, this bathroom is 1/8 of the size of my master bathroom at the last house. One day last week Isaac watched as I put on my foundation. He asked what it was and why I rub it on my face. I was very slow to respond, trying to figure out how to bring it down to his level. Knowing that the Clinique-counter-girl answer wouldn’t do, I started with “I use it to cover-“ when he interrupted with “the redness in your cheeks?” I immediately felt sheepish, knowing where this was going. “And then I put on blush-“ and was interrupted again “to make your cheeks red again.” How silly and simple. Why do we cover up our red, blotchy (in my case) cheeks to only make them red again. This sweet boy brought it up again while we watched American Idol last night. “Mom, I don’t understand why you cover up your red cheeks and then make them red again.” I don’t understand either, friends. But leave it to a child (let alone a boy) to point out the logic in our cosmetically-driven world.