T Minus 12 hours

Whenever I have a lot to do, I naturally make a to-do list. Over the past few weeks--many a to-do list has been made. But, last night, after I climbed in bed (around 2am) -- I stared at the ceiling forEVER! My mind was racing with all the shenanigans I needed to do today. Finally--at 230 am--I got a notebook out of my nightstand and started writing everything down. I was feeling so OCD! Once I had made my list, I was able to go to sleep just fine.

So, my loverly girls from AZ will be arriving in 12 hours! I've finished most of the preparations--shopping, getting gifties ready, making their tags (this is why I was up til 2), cleaning the basement -- but there is

still so much to do and so little time!

It will just be so nice once they get here -because what's done will be done and what isn't won't matter (I think I'll put that on a t-shirt--very catchy--I'm totally Jack Handy today

--or maybe just TIRED).

I have really got to get going

on my to do list!

Things To Do

(I've marked the finished tasks with a star)

**Drink a DC
**Blog
Clean the kitchen
Take Savvy her lunch which she left

sitting on the kitchen table.
**Drink another DC
Clean the bathroom(s)
Vacuum
Dust
**Drink a few more DC's
Get caught up on the laundry
Clean my room
Take Jay to swim team
Take twins to soccer practice
Give DH a hug - cause he is so sweet to

put up with this crazy girls weekend
Pick up darling ladies at airport

Spit Take

I just walked into my ever clean...ever organized...ever loverly craft room (formerly known as the junks or FKTJ as it shall be known on the records of my household). I was carrying in my hand a can of diet coke (1/2 full for you positive thinkers). As I walked into the FKTJ, I set it down on my desk--put away a few things -- and then went back to retrieve my diet coke.

Errr- there were like 7 dc cans sitting on my desk. 2 were empty, 2 were close to empty - but 3 were pretty close to the same level (what a wasteful shame!).

Picked up the first, tentatively drank it. Ewwww! OLD!

Picked up the second, closed my eyes and drank it. YUCK! Even OLDER. (If I could've done a spit-take and not made a mess in my freshly cleaned room--I totally would've done it!)

Picked up the third, closed my eyes and drank it. Yummalicious.

Then I added the following to my "to-do" list.

THINGS TO DO BEFORE AZ GIRLS ARRIVE TOMORROW:
Drink more diet coke.
Finish the can.
Recycle old diet coke cans.

PS Last night, I asked Savvy to run some stuff downstairs to the "Craft Room" and she asked--how come we're calling the junk room the craft room all of a sudden? I had to explain to her - when the junk room is clean it's the craft room and vice versa. Nice to see she's learning about the fine art of labeling at such young age.

The Sunday Funnies Part Deux

Yesterday, my cute cousin, Allyson, blogged about how her husband read her blog for the first time (since she's started it in 2006 - wow! - by the way). I commented on her post and mentioned how my DH wasn't much of a reader of my blog either.

Today, when I saw this cartoon today on another blog--it made me laugh out loud! I just couldn't resist posting it. So, loyal readers, this Sunday Funny (part deux) is dedicated to my dear DH (and I guess Ally's DH too--although neither one of them will probably know it).

When I started blogging last June--I would bug DH to read it all of the time...truly. He never did - until I finally told him that since he didn't read it - I could share all sorts of stuff about him. Now - he will read it weekly. Just to keep me honest, I suppose.

There have been times when DH will ask me a question and I'll respond with - "Well, didn't you read my blog? I wrote all about that yesterday."

Then he'll stare at me like "What the?" Confirming what I already know -- that he's not quite converted to the wifeblogging way yet.

I guess only time will tell...

The Sunday Funnies

Last night, my sis Jilly, was telling me that her daughter, Sissy, has adopted "awkward" as her new favorite word. Apparently, she uses it for everything - even if it isn't necessarily "awkward".
For instance:

Jilly: Those mountains are so gorgeous.
Sissy: Awkward!
Jilly: Dontcha think they are kind of pretty?
Sissy: Hmmm--awkwardly pretty.

OR:
Jilly: Did you hear that joke it was so funny!
Sissy: Awkward!
Jilly: You don't think it's funny?
Sissy: Well...awkwardly funny.

FINALLY:
Jilly: Your brother loves you so much!
Sissy: Awkward!
Jilly: Well, I think it is so tender.
Sissy: Ummm--awkwardly tender.

My Cleanliness Pledge

There are practical little things in housekeeping which no man really understands. Eleanor Roosevelt

Preparations for my upcoming AZ visitors are underway! I started working on the basement yesterday. Unfortunately, I'm a very destructive cleaner. When I clean one room--I always mess up 3 more--just one of my idiosyncrasies I guess.

Last night when DH came home and saw his precious ping pong table was covered in piles of crafts (as I tried to organize things), he was a little worried (well, actually he was mostly annoyed--but in case he's reading this I'll stick with worried).

DH has every right in the world to be "worried" (i.e. "annoyed") because usually when my craft room is this bad--it takes me a week to dispose of the evidence mess. We are having a get-together at our house Saturday evening --and the likelihood of Hurricane Nicole not being cleaned up is a high possibility.

So, Loyal Readers, I have put myself on restriction today. I've made a pledge - that I will not get on the internet today until I've finished the cleaning the disaster area that I lovingly call: basement.

P.S. Of course, I realize that by posting this I have already broken my pledge - but what's one little slip up among friends?

P.S.S. I have not restricted myself from phone privileges - so if you want to call and send your condolences then please do! (I'd love the distraction company).

What Color Should Your Blog Be?

Your Blog Should Be Yellow

You're a cheerful, upbeat blogger who tends to make everyone laugh. You are a great storyteller, and the first to post the latest funny link. You're also friendly and welcoming to everyone who comments on your blog.

What Color Should Your Blog Be?

An Eclectic Statement

"With what price we pay for the glory of motherhood."

~Isadora Duncan

My wardrobe selection pre-carpool in the mornings is usually pretty dicey. It consists of flannel pj bottoms, a t-shirt (matching is optional), no bra, sometimes no shoes depending on how big of a hurry we are in, glasses, messy bed-head hair, unbrushed teeth - you get the picture and it's not a pretty one. I prefer to call it my eclectic fashion statement.

This morning, as I dropped off Jay and her fellow

Jr. High carpoolers -- I saw something that would've sent Jay into hiding for weeks. I witnessed a mom--in her flannel pj bottoms, barefoot, t-shirt with no bra, g's hanging out the bottom of her shirt, and uncombed hair--walking out of the Jr. High--

at peak drop off time. I'm sure her son/daughter forgot something in the car like a lunch - and she didn't want to have to run it back to the school after she had made herself presentable.

Now I'm not judging, because every mother has her cross to bear...but it takes a gal with a lotta guts...
...to be brave enough to walk into a Jr. High...

...pj clad and barefoot...

...in order to drop off a lunch to her

son/daughter's locker.

Wait a minute - that lady is a genius! She's discovered a new form of punishment--embarrass your children into submission. I bet it only took her one trip into the school and that child will never forget a lunch or homework in the car again.

She deserves a medal.

Hmmm....maybe I'll have to give that a try? Alas, I fear the horror would scar, dear Jay, for life.

"My mother had a great deal of trouble with me, but I think she enjoyed it." ~ Mark Twain

Sick Day

Savvy was home sick today--actually she's been sick with a fever & tummy ache since Friday night. She says it all started when she saw a dead, bloody snake on the way home from school -- and then when she got home I (the mean mom) made her and Aussie clean out the coat closet.

These two things naturally gave her a tummy ache. She is convinced that the snake was full of "disease" and it gave her "diabetes" (not sure where she got this idea--although I have warned her to not touch dead birds or mice cause they are full of disease - not diabetes folks, just disease).

The aches & pains went downhill from there. Yesterday, her tummy ached so bad she said it hurt to breathe -- and at one point she dramatically complained that she was going to die - and that she only had 1/2 of a life left. Thankfully (and I mean--Hallelujah! Sing Praises!), she seems to be feeling a little better today -- in spite of the fever and stomach ache that she still has.

This morning, I opened the blinds and Savvy looked outside and saw the spring blossoms on our trees. She said, "Mom! There are flowers all over the trees - when did that happen?"

"Over the weekend sweetie," I answered.

"You mean I've been sick since Winter and now it's Spring?" she sadly said.

"Ummmm....I guess....wanna treat or something?" I asked.

So, today Savvy decided that she deserved some good times since she hadn't been outside for 3 whole days and she had practically missed everything wonderful about Spring!

First she asked very sickly like, "Mom, will you read "The Princess Academy" to me?

"Sure," I replied.

Then, Savvy pathetically asked, "Mom, will you go get me a Mango-a-go-go at Jamba Juice so that I can drink it while you read it to me?"

"You bet," I said.

A short time later, with a little cough and a moan, she asked, "Mom, when you get home with my Mango-a-go-go, can I get in a warm bubble bath and drink it---while you read to me?"

"Okaaay," I laughed a little bit.

This dialogue, reminded me of what I was like as a kid. I remember staying home on sick days with my mom. Those were some good times. We'd play games, watch TV, eat fun snacks, drink plenty of diet coke (I promise!), play more games. It was way more fun staying home with my mom than going to school!

So, I guess the old saying is true...

...Like Mother, Like Daughter.

Update: Savvy is home again today! Guess I made it too fun for her yesterday? She still has a "bad, bad, baaaad" (her words) tummy ache--no fever. See, here's the thing--I'm a real nice mom until I feel that someone has overstayed their sickly welcome -- not that my flesh and blood, sweet, darling daughter has...yet.

I think I'll go remind her that if she misses school today she'll have to miss: activity days, soccer practice and mother/daughter book club tonight.

Come to think of it -- that's the line my mom used to tell me when I had been home sick for too may days...Like Mother, Like Daughter.

The Sunday Funnies

Last month, while on our way to Phoenix (for Spring Break)--we stopped in Sedona. (We try to stop there for at least one night whenever we head to AZ -- to see the sights and visit DH's cousin, Big D, who manages one of the resorts there.)

DH always plans a fun hikes for us to go on--our past two hikes were Devil's Bridge and Bell Rock Trail. We arrived in "Red Rock Country" late that night. The following morning; we had breakfast, checked out of the hotel and headed out for our hike. Destination: "Aliens Bend".

DH likes to get the kids excited about whatever hike we end up trying - so he'll give us a little background and tell us what we are going to see. With a name like "Aliens Bend" you can imagine the build-up for this particular hike. The kids were definitely anxious to get there - and I think at one point we were all singing the "Twilight Zone Theme" song (or as my kids know it "The Tower of Terror" music).

We drove and drove and drove. It took forever to get there. DH's cousin, Big D, called to check our ETA - as we were meeting him for lunch. When Big D asked DH where our hike was - he said in his scariest alien voice, "ALIENS BEND". Big D proceeded to say that there had been many alien abductions in the area and to be careful.

Finally, we arrived--and true to tradition--we headed to the trailhead to get a picture. Our hopes and dreams of seeing the Aliens were dashed - as we noticed on the map that the trail was actually called "ALLENS BEND" rather than "ALIENS BEND" (I'm doing it in all caps so you can see how maybe DH could confuse the two--err--bifocals anyone?)

P.S. We did try to throw a bit of a scary aliens into our day--as we used the inhumane port-a-potties (which I know had to be created by deranged aliens) - and then we pretended that a dried up river bed of rocks - was secretly alien's heads waiting to come to life.

SPOOKY

You know what they say about Good Intentions...

I just noticed that my 100th post has come and gone. So here I am at the ripe old age of 104, acknowledging my blogging escapades. It was on this milestone day that I had planned to

thank my fans -- all 6 of you (hehe). Now it seems so anti-climatic .

Alas, I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. The amount of times I've forgotten holidays, birthdays & anniversaries of friends and family are innumerable. Add to that, the fact that I'm always late with gift giving. I still have one of my nephews Christmas gifts sitting unwrapped in my guest room (I forgot to bring it at Christmas time - and just found it the other day--sheesh).

I also have a lovely set of "Faith, Family, Friend" bricks that have been painted darling shades of sage, barn red and cream since November--but still need the lettering done on them. I started these for the ladies I work with in the RS presidency. Oh, did I mention it was supposed to be their Christmas gift? I'm thinking they will get it for either Mother's Day or Memorial Day--nothing says, "I enjoy working with you" like a really late Christmas gift.

Then there was the year of the initial. Last year, for birthday gifts--I gave each of my girlfriends a giant, cutie pie letter that represented the initial of their last name. One of the girls, who shall remain nameless (although she is the main contributor at JoJo's Circus), has not yet received her letter. Her birthday is coming up in JUNE! Yes folks, you heard me correctly--June! I am now so officially late for her birthday present that when I see her in two weeks and give it to her -- I plan on considering myself 6 weeks early.

Of course, I cannot forget my dear sister, Jill, who just loves having her birthday in July -- because that's when she gets her Christmas gift (sometimes in multiples depending on how slow I was the year before). Although - last year she was a recipient of the infamous initial letter--on her actual birthday, I might add.

So, now as I forget past faults and press forward with my 100th post--let's recall the wise old idiom that I enjoy living by--"Better late than never."

A Dedication to Utah's Finest

A common joke among citizens of the U.S. is that America's Finest (i.e. Cops) hang out at donut shops drinking coffee (or drinking root beer if you're in Utah). While this may be true in many areas, I'd like to call your attention to a place known as...Tai Pan Trading (and for today at least--the cop shop).

Today whilst shopping at "Tai Pan Trading" with my dear cousins, Jenny and Allyson -- we had the opportunity to see one of Utah's finest (a Highway Patrolman) assisting his wife with an enormous mirror. All of his police training in the weight room really came in handy - cause I'm not kidding folks, this was a really heavy mirror.

It did my heart good to know that not all cops are out trying to get their quota of tickets from the natural (wo)man -- some of them are actually serving others in their time of need (okay, so it was his wife and there may have been some coercion involved).

It brought a tear to my eye, as the courageous highway patrolman smiled and loaded his wife's mirror into her fancy SUV. Then he gallantly jumped into his car and headed off rather quickly--as if in pursuit of something very important. Perhaps he was giving his wife a police escort to Rod Works--or maybe even Interior Elements?

So, for your integrity, patience, and your willingness to go beyond the line of duty: I salute you, Mr. Highway Patrolman.

A Room with a View

I am the type of person who will read a boring book or sit through a tedious movie -- even if I hate it -- thinking that surely it will get better. In some cases, it works -- in most cases, it ends up being a waste of my time.

Monday night was no exception. I had just settled the kids into bed and decided to catch up on my Jane Austen Masterpiece series. I started with the last one to be recorded which was called, "A Room with a View".

"Hmmm?" I thought to myself, "I didn't know Jane Austen wrote, 'A Room with a View?'"

Without further ado, I pushed play on the tivo and set the movie in motion.

The story itself is a good one. The classic tale of girl meets guy. Girl falls in love with the guy (who happens to be poor). Girl ditches poor guy for "richer" guy. Girl realizes her mistake and hooks back up with poor guy. Girl and poor guy live happily ever after -- or in this case -- live happily for 10 years and then poor guy gets killed in the war.

This movie had three problems.
1) Poor guy and rich guy were both creepy. It was hard to root for either of them. As a matter of fact, I kept hoping a new guy would appear and eliminate both annoying men off the screen--maybe a little violence would've spiced things up a bit.

2) Whoever was in charge of the musical score, ought to be fired! From the beginning of the show, every time the girl met with poor guy -- creepy music would start to play. I mean, for the first half of the show - I thought he must be a really bad guy. I kept waiting for him to have some hidden secret - like he was a crazy snaggletooth vampire or something of the like. When I realized he was supposed to be the love of her life I had a hard time switching teams.

3) The biggest issue I had with this movie was Jane Austen did not write it. I figured out about a quarter of the way through -- that no way was this a Jane Austen classic. E.M. Forster is actually the author of the book (he's written many other books including 'Howard's End', 'Billy Bud', 'Passage to India' & 'Where Angels Fear to Tread'). Surely, I'm not implying that Jane Austen is the superior author - I mean the guy is famous. BUT, my expectations were a Jane Austen classic--and this my friends was no Jane Austen classic.

Moral of the story?
1) Delete "Masterpiece" off of Tivo - before it records something else that I confuse with Jane Austen.
2) Check out "Room with a View" at the library - the story itself is a good one.
3) The next time I am watching a show or reading a book I don't love--just stop the insanity--don't assume it will get any better.
4) Refer to rule #3 when I start rule #2.

What Generation Do You Belong In?

You Belong in the Silent Generation

You fit in best with people born between 1925 and 1942. You are a person of high values and character. Family, your country, loyalty, and hard work all important to you. You are willing to do what's right, even when it's difficult.

What Generation Do You Belong In?

I just love these blogthings surveys. So, I'm of the silent generation? Hmmm? (I'm sure there are plenty of people who wish I were...

...a little more silent)

A Brave Man

It takes a brave man to wear a speedo to a public pool.

It takes a very brave man to do toe touches directly in

front of mothers and young, innocent

(albeit giggling swim team) children.

It takes an even braver man, to go Nacho Libre

all over the place -and do flexing stretches up against the wall

(still in his

speedo--mind you).

It takes a mighty brave man to do this in front of my

bench on a weekly basis.

BUT--It takes an extremely brave woman to admit she has watched this - oh sure, I tried to look away. But it's kind of like watching a trainwreck -- terrible -- and you want to stop--yet something (maybe the horror of it all) draws your attention back again and again.

The Sunday Funnies

Friday night, DH took our family to see the The Bees (SLC Triple A baseball team), play some b-ball. Admittedly, I pride myself on knowing a bit about the greatest American pasttime (okay-so I fake most of it--but still).

When DH, Jay and Savvy went on a snack run--I decided it would be the perfect time to discuss the merits of baseball with my 9 year old son.

"So, Aussie--the Bees are losing 9-4. Do you think they'll be able to get back into the game?" I asked.

"Ummm. Mom? The Bees are losing 4-0--not 9-4."

"Ohh, Aussie. I think I would know what the score is. Just look over at the score board and you'll see what I'm talking about," I replied.

Looking embarrassed for me, he said, "Ummm. Mom? You're looking at the HITS not the RUNS."

"Errrr...and RUNS means SCORE?" I sheepishly asked.

"Yup."

"Uh, Aussie?" I whispered. "Let's just keep this conversation between me and you."

"Kay," he answered.

Good times.

And then there was that Sunday when....

This morning, I had to go to church early to practice with some other ladies for a musical number during sacrament meeting. As we crowded around the piano, one of the gals came in late (whilst we were singing). Trying to make room for her I took a step back...right into the riser. Picture it: me falling backwards, music pages flying everywhere--grasping on to the nearest thing--which happened to be a sweet 70 year old soprano--who nearly joined me on the floor. Nicely done. Thank goodness there were only a few witnesses to my unselfish fall.

And then...
Since DH was home with a bad back--the kids had to walk to church. As they came walking in during the opening song...

...Jay looked like a STREETWALKER with all the BLUE EYESHADOW she had caked on to her lovely eyes...

...Savvy's bangs looked like a SCARECROW because Jay had flat-ironed them for her - only they were sticking out straight from her forehead...

...and Aussie looked like an ORPHAN with his long sleeve, semi-whitish-mostly-stained t-shirt (no collar) that I have occasionally let him wear UNDER sweaters at church.

If only all Sundays could be as fulfilling as today. Did I mention, nicely done?

What Color Girl are YOU?

You Are A Blue Girl

Relationships and feelings are the most important things to you. You are empathetic and accepting - and good at avoiding conflict. If someone close to you is in pain, it makes you hurt as well. You try to heal the ones you love with your kind and open heart.

What Color Girl Are You?

Shopping Flashback

My good friend Pam just posted about her nightmare shopping trip she experienced yesterday with her darling 3 year old - and it reminded me of the good times I had when trying to shop with little ones.

If I were to add up all the bad shopping excursions that involved my small children, me--and a lot of tears - I could write a novel. But, one of my favorite nightmare stories involved not only me and my kids - but my sweet sis, Jilly, and her newborn.

We lived by each other for about a year when Jay was 3, Savvy and Aussie were just over a year and Jilly had a newborn. For some reason, Jilly and I had a dream of what sisters should be doing to spend quality time together - and it involved shopping. We would attempt this on a regular basis and it never turned out good. Of course, each time we planned a shopping expedition - the last fiasco had been mostly forgotten.

On one particular day, we thought it would be a great idea to take the chillens to Roberts craft store. I mean, really, what better place to take 4 small children -then to a store that has lots of breakable stuff?

With a double stroller, regular stroller and a hand for Jay to hold - we headed into the crafting abyss. We looked around for about 15 minutes - and then Jay broke something and started to cry. Not to be outdone, Jilly's newborn started to cry. The crying reminded the twins that they hated their stroller - so the arching of backs and whining started--which inevitably led to crying mixed with blood curdling screeching.

Ah. Good times.

Being the alert and wise(?) mothers that we were back then, Jilly and I figured out that this shopping trip wasn't meant to be. We made a beeline for the front of the store--loaded the crying children into their car seats--buckled ourselves into our seat belts--looked at each other and burst into tears. We sat & cried big, salty tears in the parking lot of Roberts for quite sometime. It was then we noticed that the crying & screaming in the back seat had ended. The kids were staring at us like we had sprouted two heads.

Thankfully, we didn't take this as a sign to go back into the store and continue shopping. Instead we stopped at Wendy's, bought the toddlers all a 5 piece chickie nugget, me a big diet coke and Jilly a Sprite (no hard stuff for that girl)--and headed home planning our next shopping trip that would definitely be better than the one we had just experienced.

The Facts of Life

Yesterday, Savvy was petting Elvis and asked, "Mom, where is Elvis' belly button?"

"Cats don't have belly buttons," I replied.

"Mom, they have to have belly buttons, how else would they have babies?" she answered.

Oh brother! Is it time for THAT talk already? With Jay, I totally passed the buck to DH and he did a great job. Guess I'll just inform him that since he did such a good job the first time around--the deed is all his.

Much Ado About Nothing

Jay, our resident drama queen, is playing "Beatrice" in Shakespeare's "Much Ado about Nothing" at school. DH has a white board in his office (right by the very computer I am typing on) and I just looked up and noticed that Jay had written a few of her favorite quotes from the play.

I love what her favorite Beatrice quotes are:

"Speak, count! Tis your cue!"

"I wish my horse had the speed of your tongue!"

"The Count is neither sad, nor sick, nor merry ... nor well, but civil Count, civil as an orange, and something of that jealous complexion."

And my favorite: "Speak cousin; or, if you cannot, stop his mouth with a kiss, and let not him speak neither!"

The Sunday Funnies (Conference Edition)

Two undeniable proofs that my children are indeed prodigies of a sports nut.

This morning, just before conference started -- Savvy said to Jay, "At halftime will you jump on the trampoline with me?"

********************************************************************

I printed off some fun conference activities for the kids to do while listening to conference today. One of those activities was to write in the name of our newly appointed apostle, Elder D. Todd Christofferson. I told the kids to watch for him because he would be speaking today. When Elder Christofferson was announced to give his talk, the kids hurried to try and write his name in the appropriate spot (before it disappeared off the tv screen). His name is rather long - and so Aussie informed us he was just going to write "D-Todd". DH informed him that Elder Christofferson is an apostle not a baseball player - with some gentle encouragement (i.e. threats) Aussie changed his answer.

Luigi and the Pirate

My closest neighborhood grocery store is not my favorite place to go. Their meat department smells. bad. Produce? Not fresh. They never seem to have enough cashiers. And the store itself is always a mess. I try to avoid shopping there if it is at all possible. But, inevitably I end up there every Saturday night for some forgotten item that our family can't do without till Monday.

Tonight was no different. I needed tinfoil and saran wrap. Of course, I had just returned from a grocery store that I love--but I had neglected to get those two items. It was a necessary evil that I go to Smitty's. Luckily, my two favorite baggers--Luigi and the Pirate made this shopping excursion more pleasant than usual.

For some time now, a sixtyish Luigi has been bagging my groceries. I hate to stereotype him - but let's face it - he's short, Italian, and has a bushy mustache - he is totally Luigi. In fact, all he needs is a pair of overalls and a green shirt and he could be Luigi for next Halloween. He's also quite friendly, and while I've never heard him say, "Mama Mia" - I know it's on the tip of his tongue

Now, the pirate is a new character at Smitty's. I hadn't seen him until last Saturday. He is a man in his 70's with a gold stud in each ear. Tonight whilst shopping, I was on the phone with my dear sister, Jilly, and I told her that he is either a pirate or a person of a delicate persuasion.

Jilly then said, "Did you know pirates are real?"

"Yes, I'm staring at one right now," I replied.

Jilly then said, "No, I mean pirates are truly back to pillaging and terrorizing the open seas." (she read about it in some article).

Of course, the question remains, why in the world would a pirate be bagging groceries at a second rate grocery store--when he could be making millions at sea? Maybe it's the off-season? Retirement? Whatever the reason, one can only hope Johnny Depp follows the trend.

A Letter to Mr. Murphy

Dear Mr. Murphy:
Even though I find you and your laws quite annoying, it seems like I obey them on a regular basis. Especially, in regards to washing my van, cleaning up after Elvis, general housekeeping, mopping my floor - and parenting.

Murphy's Law, Case Study #1--The Van: If I wash it, it will rain. Not just any rain, but one of those filthy mudstorms. The kind of rain that it takes running your van through twice just to get it looking clean. I should offer my services to any state in drought like conditions--just fly me out, loan me a car to wash - and you'll have the ark a floatin' in no time.

Murphy's Law, Case Study #2--It takes a Village: If it becomes necessary to raise my voice at my children (who are we kidding - you know I mean a full throttle yell), inevitably a window will be open or someone (like the home teachers) will be knocking at my door. Can you say awkward?

Murphy's Law, Case Study #3--A House of Order: When I finally decide to catch up on my laundry, and I've just folded the final towel to add to the mountain -- someone (most likely the girl in the neighborhood with a maid and plenty of time on her hands) will ring the doorbell and want to come in and visit.

Murphy's Law, Case Study #4--The King and I: Anytime I clean out the litter box, Elvis will have to go--and he's not shy about it. But, you can't just leave it at that--can you Mr. Murphy? No, you must take it to a whole new level. You see, the minute the litter box has been dumped, cloroxed, lysoled, dried - and is ready to have new litter dumped in it - you must encourage Elvis to jump in and do his deed before the fresh litter has been put in. You are a wily one.

Murphy's Law, Case Study #5--Shines like the top of the Chrysler Building: When I mop the floor, it is guaranteed that a bottle of something especially sticky and messy will spill on the floor THAT VERY DAY. In the past year, this has included a broken bottle of worchestshire sauce, a bottle of apple juice, a can of sprite, a bowl of jello, a jar of Ragu spaghetti sauce (a mess of epic proportions--because it involved a 9 year old boy covered head to toe in red, my pantry, under my fridge, etc--I'm still finding spots of sauce in odd places), -- the list is truly endless.

But, Mr. Murphy - I have beat you at your own game! Finally, I know the answer to your shenanigan ways. It is a little thing I call reverse psychology.

Let's rewind a bit to the first of this week. At the top of my "things to do" list was mopping. I had a slot scheduled for it on Monday. It was going to happen no matter what. My dear sister, Jilly, even called and wanted me to go to the mall with her. But, the mopping prevailed and I courageously told her no.

At the last minute - just as I was ready to mop, life got in the way - and I had to postpone the job. But you see, Mr. Murphy, the trap had been set. I had gone through so many motions of pre-mopping that you thought the deed had been done. So you set upon me as usual -- using Savvy and a big can of rootbeer as your scapegoat - only you were foiled!

The joke is on you my dear friend, Mr. Murphy, for I wasn't able to complete the mopping task until today at 5 pm. The day is almost over, and so far nothing extremely terrible has spilled, broke or secreted bodily fluids onto my freshly mopped floor (of course, I do realize that by saying this - all of the above could be happening as I type--after all it is YOUR law).

Obediently Yours,

Nic

A PSA from Nic

Loyal Readers: Today I was perusing the cute scrapbook pages on my darling cousin Jen's blog. I decided to leave her a comment - and after posting it - noticed that someone by the name of "Tygogal" had left her one also. All it said was "Click HERE to view comment". Being of a curious nature, I clicked. Guess what I found out?

Tygogal=A secret combination=The Spawn of Satan.

Weird stuff started downloading into my registry. This actually happened to my DH in the summer - he clicked on something from (supposedly) Microsoft -- and the next thing he knew he had downloaded a Trojan Horse virus(it's not really a virus - but it causes tons of problems on your computer and really slows things down).

Anyway, after this happened to DH, he told me if something like that ever happened again, to shut the computer off and unhook the wireless internet link from the wall. Luckily, when I noticed all this crazy stuff- I remembered to flip the switch and shut it down (oops - forgot to unhook the internet though).

Thanks goodness I knew what to do! I thought I was in the clear - but when I rebooted the computer and ran my "Spyware" detector--a ton of naughty spies had downloaded to my registry. We deleted them off - ran another CA Virus detector - and found another doozie.

How did Typogal find Jen? Probably through searches on either google or blogspot. So she and I (proper english?) both went into our blogs under "Customize" then clicked on "Settings". Then scrolled down a bit to "Add blog to our listings" - changed the answer to NO. Scrolled down a little more to "Let search engines find your blog?" And changed that answer to NO.

By the way, this isn't privatizing your blog. Your blog will still be available on the internet - it just won't be listed with the masses - and will hopefully keep SPIES LIKE THEM away.