“If you can shape it in your mind, you will find it in your life”

I read this fortune today and I thought to myself – 
“Self, that is just about the stupidest thing you’ve ever read.  What a waste of a second.  That’s a second you will never get back.”

I looked out the window and saw the van was in the driveway.

“He’s home early!” I thought to myself. 

I ventured outside to meet him as he came in.  When I got around to the driver’s side I noticed the seat empty.  Looking toward the house, I wondered how he got past me. 

“Maybe he went through the garage”, I thought.

I peered around the van into the garage but didn’t see him.

So, I figured he had already made it into the house somehow and I went back in to find him.
Nowhere.
[really confused]

It was then that I realized.

He didn’t take the van to work, dummy.  He took the motorcycle.

[hits self on the head]

Out of  boredom, and the sheer fact that I am stuck in one place while feeding Jesse, I thought it would be a good time to look my name up on Google images.

I learned a lot about myself.

It was a little disturbing. 

[me before makeup and hair]

[me in the morning – before coffee]

[me after yellingcalmly telling my kids the same thing for the umpteenth time]

[me, at peace – just before bed]

Now that we all know way more about me than we ever really wanted to, what do you find when you look up your name on Google images?

Do it.  You’ll get to know yourself so much better.

…$150,000?

It’s just 175 square feet.

That means this couple spent $858 per square foot.
People.
$858 per square foot of anything is way! too! much! 

Unless that retro bedspread was included.  Then I think the $150,000 would be justified.

The front of the magazine that I got for free (I wouldn’t buy it because I’m against spending money) said “Get Cleverly Organized”.  Somewhere inside me a little bubble of excitement started to grow.  After an almost endless search through the encrypted menu page I finally got the magazine opened to the ‘organize’ section just to have my bubble burst.  The entire page is so cluttered.  Colorful, I like color.  But cluttered.

So much for organization inspiration.

The Milano cookie on the opposing page is equally disappointing, as it’s just shiny paper.  Jesse has got my back, however, and is taking care of that page for me as I type this.

It’s been a day.

Apparently I need an albuterol inhaler to breath.   I tried it for the first time this morning to help the bronchitis that has really overstayed its welcome, and I had the weirdest gitters for hours afterwards.  It was completely disturbing and I think I’d rather just not breath.  It’s just as well.  The inhaler didn’t do anything to help my weak, dry cough – just as I suspected it wouldn’t when the doc prescribed it for me last week.  I don’t have asthma.  I have bronchitis.

We went to Target to score a Pop-Tarts deal.  It was the best 20 minutes of my day week. To my surprise it was the big boxes of Pop-Tarts that were on sale.  I got them for $.50 a box and my kids about had a coronary (in a good way) when I opened some on the way home.  My favorite are the frosted strawberry, which is good ’cause, you know, they’re way more healthier when they have fruit in the title.  The kids ate up the Hot Fudge Sunday ones.  I’ll make them eat an apple tomorrow.

Then I forgot I was against spending money and sent Joe into the Petsmart to buy crickets.
Bugs.  We bought bugs today.  We’re keeping them in the house.
[crazy pills]

Then we came home and the kids made a mess.  Which I promptly had them clean up, just to have Jesse wake up.  Now the clean laundry basket full of clothes I have every intention of folding is strewn across the living room floor.  Sam is asleep on my side.  There are baby toys littering the hallway floor.

To top it all off I accidentally rented a Redbox flick I didn’t realize I’d already seen. 

How I hate it when I do that.

And my husband has to work tomorrow.  On Saturday.  On my birthday.

Did I mention that Sam was sleeping on my side? I can feel him breathing. 
[sigh]
What a precious end to my day. (i don’t mean that sarcastically, it’s a sweet thing)

You talked a good game.  You actually had me believing that I’d finally find sustainable warmth within your boarders.  And I did.  It was lovely and I felt comfortable wrapped up in your sunny rays.  The warm rain, the stifling humidity…  Ahhh.  It was delightful.

But then you changed.

And now this. 

Snow? Accumulation?  Really?

I’ve no words to convey my disappointment in you.  I have plans.  Projects.  A garden.

Think about the squirrels.

Think about me!

And I have to tell you, my dear sunshine state, 46 degrees is very unbecoming of you.

three rolls of toilet paper
one running faucet
one 2 year old

I turned my head towards the clock on the nightstand.  6:32.  What woke me up?  Ah, yes.  A baby is crying.

Is that my baby?  Do I even have kids?  Where am I? 

I rubbed my eyes, refusing to sit up; hoping that Jesse would fall back to sleep. It was quite dark for being the 6th hour.  Heavy clouds must have settled on us in the night.

Baby’s still crying. I sat up.

Right there in that dream/reality haziness between sleep and awake I sensed something amiss.  In my sleepy stupor, I rose slowely from the edge of the bed trying to convince my brain to work. 

What is it? What’s not right?

Step by step I made my way out of the dim light of my room into the dark hallway leading towards Jesse’s nursery.  He was still crying, though not loudly, but I didn’t want him to wake up Sam, who shares a room with him.  Still, I couldn’t make myself move faster.

By now my senses were really tingling.  And not in a good way.

Then.

Dread.

My foot had come into contact with something on the floor.  And suddenly I was fully awake and aware of what was going on around me, right there in my pitch black hallway, even before I flipped the light switch.  I knew. 

I knew.

Our 80 lb dog had placed a giant steamer right under where I put my foot. 

Oh the stink.  The disgust.  The can-i-pretend-this-didn’t-just-happen, do-over-please feeling.

This morning I stepped in dog poop.  Not outside. 

I feel like I’m taking crazy pills.

Today I received a forward from a good friend that had a nice list of ways to attempt to prevent the flu this winter. Let me give you an abbreviated list –

• No sugar.  At. all.  Even through the holidays. 
• No carbs.
• Drink a daily dose of oniongarlicjalapenovinegarjuice, palm oil, coconut oil.
• Take your vitamins – D3, C, grapefruit seed extract, and a special drink mix for children because the adult stuff is just plain gross… 

Um…

I’ll take the flu for a week, thankyouverymuch.

“Dad, we have a surprise for you! It’s outside and I’m not going to tell you what it is.  You have to come see!” Exclaimed an excited Gabe.

“Is it something that you caught?” Dad asked as he stood up and followed.

Gabe giggled as he led his father outside to the backyard.

When Ryan returned minutes later he said very calmly,  “The kids caught a snake.  It’s not a garter.”

Turns out it’s a juvenile rat snake.  The kids put it in a bucket and are calling it Macintosh.  It was Apple but that changed because they don’t know if it’s a girl or boy.

Cute, dear children. Cute.

No, you can’t keep it.  No, we’re not letting it loose in the yard.  No, we’re not going to put it in an aquarium in the backyard.

No.  I do not think it’s a pretty little thing.

I feel like I’m taking crazy pills again.