"The Situation" with Dorky Dad

Sometimes I tease my husband about seeming like a "dorky dad" type - even before he was a dad. It's hard to explain, but it has to do with the things he says, his inflection when he says them, and the way he dresses for work. He just seems like Danny Tanner. The other day he asked me if "The Solution" had been voted off of Dancing with the Stars.

C-A-R-R-O-L-L

After my husband read my last post, he said...

"You spelled Carol wrong! It's C-A-R-R-O-L-L!"

Well excccuuuuuse me!

Should I be worried about "Carol"?

My mother-in-law has told me several stories about having to go up to the local bar and drag her husband home back when their kids were young. Sometimes she'd be coming in the front door of the bar, and he'd be sneaking out the back. It's an all too common tale; husbands "working late" and finding ways to avoid going home to responsibilities. Luckily, I have never worried about the bar. Rather, I have to worry about Carol.





My husband called me the other day and mentioned wanting to stop by Carol's. I asked him not to and he then informed me he was on his way home from work and would come right home. The next day, he confessed to me that he stopped by Carol's on the way home from work the day before, even after I asked him not to.





I've only been to Carol's once. I was surprised by Carol's older apperance and vacant looks. I didn't really get why my husband had been so compelled to go to Carol's. Carol's inner world seems disorganized and old-fashioned. I felt uncomfortable there, while my husband seemed right at home. The 80's style mirrors made me think of cocaine and orgy parties. I thought after I shared my concerns, that would put an end to my husband's interest with going to Carol's, but now I wonder- were there other times? And the nerve, me at home with a baby while my husband is over at Carol's...



Carol's is a furniture store, and even though it sounds harmless enough, it's weird. It's weird that my husband always wants to go there. It's weird that he has to "come clean" after lying about not going there. This place is so weird (have I said that yet?). I can't figure out how it's still in business and wouldn't be surprised if it's some sort of front, or perhaps a time warp - like a place where time moves slower and gravity is different. Maybe their reality is really moving slower than ours? I don't know.

What the TV tells me

• Rebecca Otto, as your elected state auditor will make sure "the numbers add up". Taryll Clark's favorite letter is "f". Clark is still waiting, stop watch in hand, for Bachman to cut her pay. Bachman thinks old people on Social Security are addicts, at least that's what the TV tells me. Erik Paulson has common-sense solutions and thinks that the headlines are "scary".

• On Days of our Lives, Ariana (who I read on a spoiler blog is soon to be killed off of the show), pretended to care about why Sami shot EJ, who kidnapped her daughter as retaliation for not telling him his daughter was their daughter, while taping her confession to share with EJ, whom she has a crush on. Meanwhile, Victor finds out that Vivian was locked in the crypt by Brady, who found out that she was planning to put Maggie in the crypt because the crypt was supposed to contain his mother's remains, that are now in a pet cemetary, but instead there was a video camera and snake inside.

• The dish ran away with the spoon. Does anyone care about the fork's feelings? Where is the spork through all of this?
  

When a Baby Becomes a Real Person

I know it sounds silly to suggest otherwise; that a baby isn't a person, but sometimes it just seems strange that this giggly, half-pint will one day go to kindergarten, ride a bike, drive a car, and go to medical school. Anyway, for starters, her name made it into an obituary. My grandma passed away and my little miss made it into the obituary. That must mean she's real and human. So, the real human came to the funeral. A lovely singer stood before us belting out Eagle's Wings. Another lovely singer, my little-miss-real-human, was also belting out Eagles Wings, although her words were unintelligible. She was squealing and so excited. It made me think..."is this the best day of her life?" And here's the thing, it just might be.

I like this about babies. Imagine if hearing Eagle's Wings at a funeral made you so excited that it was the best day of your life. And imagine if you drop your pacifier, it could become your worst day. Sometimes when she cries I think about this. I think could this be the worst thing that's ever happened to you?!

Embarassed.

So my mother-in-law took me to dinner the other night. She told the hostess that "we wont be breastfeeding or anything." Then on our way to our table, she stopped the stroller at the table behind ours and told the people sitting there how smart the baby is.

High-Fructose Corn Syrup naming contest

The New York Times reported today that The Corn Refiners Association is planning to replace the words "High-Fructose Corn Syrup" on labels because of the negetive image that HFCS has.

Dear Corn Refiners Association,

I vote for the new name to be "Rat Tumor".

No thank you card necessary.

Sincerely,
Me

Sign from Above???

CLEARLY. I wonder what "above" is trying to tell us.

clik here: Cat Video

I am on the edge of my chair here. I wish they'd decode the message so I can get on with my life!

Up North

Purrrfect Posters and the Case for Adult "Book-It"

When I say "Adult Book-It", I am not referring to "XXX Book-It" (not here anyway). I am referring to a way for adults to get in on free pizza while maintaining their literacy. Let's face it, how many people do you know that haven't read a book since they got that last gold star for reading/skimming Are You there God, it's me Margaret? , stuck it on their "Book-It" button and proudly entered their local Pizza Hut?

I realize the steaks are higher for Pizza Hut, but so is the length of the average adult book. Maybe instead of an adult signing off confirming the book was read, maybe a notary public could stamp the form? I believe we can become a more advanced (I said advanced, not to be confused with better or civilized) society by having the opportunity to read for food. Maybe reading the paper each day gives you a star, and watching Fox news takes away a star. The stars could measure actual intelligence being derived from taking in information, and unlike the kiddies, stars can be taken away for bad choices. If the amount of food eaten by Americans translated into books read, imagine the intellectual possibilities before us - perhaps we'll be the first to open a McDonalds on the moon.

While on the topic of books, I could really go for a Troll Book Order order form right about now. The feel of the crinkly paper, the classic books, purrrfect posters...not to brag (well, actually to brag) my mom let me order a book AND a puppy poster each time. The puppy posters looked great in my room next to where I thought a stuffed, pink pig would be. One time, I wanted to order a book that said it came with a pink pig. That was really the only reason I would have wanted that book. When it arrived, the teacher took it and said it was for the classroom.

Though disappointed, I graciously let the class have the pig and I was very polite about it - unlike the time I got caught rolling my eyes at my fourth grade teacher, whom was subsequently locked in the classroom greenhouse by some of my classmates and...me.

Knick Knack, Patty Whack (just a few highlights)

My husband's family has a beautiful cabin up north. So beautiful that they considered having my sister in law and I sign a prenup (because the first place I'd want to go after a divorce would be the family cabin).

Forget the emaculate heated hardwood floors, hundreds of feet of lake shore, stone bar, boats, flat screen tvs, fire pit, sauna, private lake, etc. I didn't sign the prenup for one reason...wait for it...

knick knacks.

In the event I bail, I plan to swoop in like a bird of prey and take each and every knick knack in the cabin. All 253 of them.

I don't know what I like more: the knick knacks themselves or the idea that someone may have thought..."This native american would be perfect for that spot behind the fishing cat."

Above: a paramedic.

Frog 1: "Ooo what a lovely book."
Frog 2: "I am just so tickled!"




Hans Solo and some other guy on the shelf. Part of Han's arm is actually in the bottom of the container they are standing in.

r u retiring?

There are certain causes worth donating time and resources too: world peace/hunger, fighting abuse, saving the environment, equality for all, three day work weeks...

But I would like to join an organization aimed at global utilization of the human brain for purposes other than regulating breathing. This organization is called Common Sense.

**EDIT: I am adding a quick note based on a request for clarification. I am simply saying that it's okay to use your brain for more than just breathing. The example below qualifies as a moment potentially lacking in common sense

I wanted to address the Brett Farve retiring over text message controversy sooner, but was too busy rotating the baby.

Last week it was widely reported by several media outlets that Brett Farve retired via text message to some unnamed Vikings personnel. Specifics were stated, such as ankle not healed properly after surgery, etc. Minnesotans were losing their minds. ESPN was showing clips of Farve's past in honor of his years of service. Everyone had an opinion. One local newscast even interviewed players who were not only close to Farve, but had talked to him earlier that day. They were not aware of a text message or retirement talk. Coach Childress also had received no such message. Yet, national (especially local) drama ensued. "Text message" is where the story should have ended.

What would that text say? And why wouldn't he bother texting his coach and teammates that he is actually friends with?

Here is a copy of the message:

Vikadonics Rex: what u doing? r u coming 2 camp?

BF: ankle hurts and watching tyra. lol

Vikadinics: OMG, so u r done?

BF: i m retiring 2day. let childress know if you see him. thanx and take care rex

Vikadonics: thnx 4 the memories

The actual message said "this is it" and according to BF he didn't send it.

Me TV, part 2

Since I started this blog, 3 followers intensely follow me. I imagine that you are on the edge of your seats just waiting to hear more about ME. I can understand. In fact, one of my followers is me.

I only have time to report the highlights. Sorry folks!
Here they are in random order:

- My husband and I debated the length of Mr. Long (Mr. Long is a hair I have on my shoulder). Is it three inches? Three and half? Did some of it break off? Didn't used to be longer? Pressing questions asked.

- I dreamt that I met Sammy from Days of Our Lives and got (yes, "got") to sit in on a taping of the show. And it was good.

- I have been rotating my daughter, on loop, between 4 apparatuses: baby gym, swing, Bumbo seat and bouncer. Crying is the signal to rotate. This happens daily.

- I sat in the bouncer. I think it's forever changed.

The swing looks sturdier though.

Creature check

Dog or Muppet?

It must have been...worth the upcharge

It Must Have Been Love.
I recently purchased this old school delight from Itunes. I logged in expecting to pay the standard 99 cents (or less). What I discovered is that it's 1.29. Really?

I uploaded it onto my Ipod. I played it in my car. I ended up listening to it about 6 times in a row, and then picked out my favorite part and my second favorite part. I sang along. I pretended that I too "lost" love for those 20 minutes until I pulled up to my condo and found love again.

The point at which I was envisioning myself in the music video, sitting alone in a softly lit bedroom, staring off in the distance, probably out some window with curtains blowing toward me, is when I understood the upcharge.

Just keep repenting, I guess.

Just when I repent and decide that I am going to be only nice from now on, very tempting situations arise...

peopleofwalmart.com

My Two Cents

My husband received a check in the mail for .02 from our HSA provider. He cashed it, I assume out of principal, because it costs more to drive to the bank than to have two cents. This made me wonder how much it actually costed all parties involved to create, cash, and process this check. I have no idea, but would I do assume is someone entered the data, cut a check, put it in an envelope with some type of postage, sent it off, sorted it at the post office, delivered it to our home, drove it to the bank, was deposited by a teller, and whatever else a check goes through at the bank. I estimate that this process definately costed more than two cents. If I were rich, bored, borring, and into documentaries, I would consider following the life of this check.

Me TV

I decided today that a personal blog is like a reality tv show. I am not sure how I feel about this discovery as it relates to my own life, but I am going to keep going anyway. While there are plenty of people who wonder what it is I do each day, they may not be pleased to know that it's not as weird as they like to believe.

I'll let you decide. Here are some of the most exciting things that have happened lately (events taken from my actual life):

- I Photoshopped a picture of my husband with a much bigger fish than the one he was originally holding in the photo.

- I applied for a job that I was probably over-qualified for and was told I wasn't qualified.

- I ate a Davanni's hoagie.

- I blew bubbles at my daughter. Not the kind from a bubble wand, but the kind you would with your saliva. She smiled big and blew bubbles back.

- I watched Days of Our Lives, and for some reason, can't stop.

- I drank at least two Frappicinos, and continue to do this each and everyday.

What did you do today?

If a baby can come out of a vagina, let's face it, anything is possible.

Yeah, I know...it's kind of blunt, but who can deny it? Let me start by explaining my motivation for starting a blog. A friend of mine had a dream that I wrote a book about being a "laid-back" mom. I have always wanted to write creatively, and I suppose that I am pretty relaxed about the whole mom thing.

Recap:

Our new roommate joined us about three months ago. I guess you could say that she's kind of a free-loader. We're going to keep her though. She spent her first 10 weeks bundled up in a Swaddle and resembled a burrito with a mini-human head sticking out. That human head is almost identical to my husband's, but much smaller. She has beautiful blue eyes which take up half of her face and I swear that I have never seen her blink. Some people wondered why she was so tan, but that appears to have faded now. She can smile and make all kinds of noises. She has also learned that curling her bottom lip gets her attention.

My husband and I have assigned adjectives to her. We've decided that she's dedicated, hard-working, loyal, detail-oriented and most of all, reliable.

I am not going to buy her My Baby Can Read or start potting training her out of the womb (this is a real phenomenom that is happening now). I am not going to give you expert advice on products such as "wipe warmers" ('cause honestly if you buy one, your kid is going to turn into a sissy). I am just going to share a little bit of what it means to me to be laid back as a parent and probably some other random crap. There is more to being a mom than taking care of a child. There is also how one stays sane (or doesn't despite their best attempts).