Wait'll she learns to spell

I was at the stove fixing dinner tonight and Kady was on the floor in the utility room in the doorway of the pantry. I figured she was arranging the potatoes into size order or turning all of the labels on the apple juice cans to the outside (As any obsessive/compulsive mother would expect). But I honestly wasn't paying that much attention. I could hear her babbling and jabbering to herself, but I didn't really hear what she was saying.

Then I was jerked back to reality by her repeated, "Momma? Momma! MOMMA!" I said, "What, honey?"

"Momma, what does S-C-H-M-I-R-N-O-F-F spell?"

"Uhhh...why?"

"Because that's the name of my castle!"

I looked into my pantry and sure enough she had taken both bottles of vodka and the bottle of whiskey and had fashioned a pretty good castle-front. I guess Prince Jim Beam lived there.

All good things must come to an end

Sometimes immunity just isn't enough. Especially when you don't have it. The ONE WEEK I don't have immunity and I get KICKED OUT OF THE CYBERHOUSE!

Yes, the rumors you've heard are true - your beloved Diva has been ousted, kicked to the curb, kicked out of bed for eating crackers, shunned, booted and any other cliche' you can think of having to do with being KICKED. OUT.

Okay, so I turned in a task a wee bit late. In my defense, I was going off Oklahoma time, not Australian time, so I wasn't technically late - I had one hour and four minutes left in Oklahoma! Oh, but Big Blogger came in with a comment about cold pizza that just sent shiver up my spine. I should've known then. I should've steeled myself for what was inevitable. I think the D. I sign in-between my first and last name on my checks stands for "Denial". Or maybe that's "Dumb". Hmh.

But it's okay....I grabbed few tissues from Stewed Hamm on my way out so I can dab my eyes when I feel the tears coming on. I'll just wander around with my new nomadic partner in eviction, Scott. He's a fellow LOST fan, designed a kickass basement for the Cyberhouse and is teaching me how to appreciate Van Halen. (He's very patient, bless his heart.) He and I will take our Fittymaid storage containers filled with contraband we stole from Cazzie!! and Hillbilly Mom when they were busy in the kitchen, flirting with Carlos the Cabana Boy and we'll entertain ourselves somehow. Maybe we'll eat some of Big Blogger's cold pizza and wash it down with Sump Cola. And maybe we'll meet up with Mark and join in his MUAHHAHAHA'ing. You never know.




So go check out the remaining defenders of the Cyberhouse, if you dare:
Hillbilly Mom
Cazzie!!
Lantern Light
Rachy
Stewed Hamm

You can check out us losers, too:
Knocking on the Golden Door
Perspectives of a Nomad
Will Type For Food
and (sob) Me.

Holiday Weekend, Wastin' Time Meme

Seems my darling, duchess-y friend, Jen, has tagged me with a rather bizarre meme, so I'm going to do this while I try to drown out the sounds of WWE on the living room TV with some Nat King Cole.

1. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up? Hands down, no question - Yzma Dermadouche. (Some of you know who I'm talking about, some of you don't. If you have to know that bad, email me.) She is not a nice person. In fact, I'd go so far as to say she's eeeeeeeee-vil!

2. You can flip a switch that will wipe any band or musical artist out of existence. Which one will it be? Even though I don't consider what he puts out to be actual music, I'm going to say Marilyn Manson. He and Yzma can rot together for all I care. In fact, that'd be pretty cool to put those two together and watch her fuh-reak out. Ooh I'm particularly evil tonight myself. Shame on me.

3. Who would you really like to just punch in the face? Well, since I'm already having an evil daydream involving the big, wet tongue kiss that Marilyn Manson puts on ol' Yzma Dermdouche, I'm going to say that I'd like to punch The Jerkfaces. I'm normally a lover, not a fighter, but I bet I could punch those three. Or at least two of them anyway.

4. What is the best kind of cheese? I know Hillbilly Mom and Mrs. Coach expect me to write "free cheese" here, and while it is some dang fine cheese, I'm going to have to go with a good medium cheddar on this one.

5.You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your immediate disposal. Squishy white Wonder Bread, mustard on both slices, shaved turkey and ham, thin sliced cheddar cheese, red onion slices, and dill pickle slices. Now THAT is a sandwich!

6. You have the opportunity to sleep with the movie celebrity of your choice. We are talking no-strings-attached sex and it can only happen once (they will never call you back). Laugh and I will cut you - Tom Hanks. Something about him just does it for me.

7. You have the opportunity to sleep with the music celebrity of your choice. Same rules as above. Who is it? Trace Adkins, no question. I'd have that ponytail all tangled around my fingers and ..... is it hot in here?

8.Now that you've slept with two different people in a row, you seem to be having an excellent day because you just came across a hundred-dollar bill on the sidewalk. Holy cow, a hundred bucks! How are you gonna spend it? A new tattoo, what else?

9. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where do you go? North Carolina - to heck with my husband and his whiny need for me to "take care of the children".

10. Upon arrival to the aforementioned location, you get off the plane and discover another hundred-dollar bill. Now that you are in the new location, where are you gonna go to spend that? I'm not sure! I'd have to rely on the infinite wisdom of Cousin Stacey to guide me in the right direction.

11. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. "Be brand-specific" it says. (Wow, it's obviously not a Southern Baptist angel.) Umm....I'm going to have to go with the ol' apple martini.

12. Rufus appears out of nowhere with a time-traveling phone booth. You can go anytime in the PAST. What time are you traveling to and what are you going to do when you get there? Hmm...maybe high school. I might play a little harmless havoc behind the scenes. Nothing future-altering, though - I might end up married to that skinny guy that I thought was All That and it turns out he was just Not That.

13. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? No Jerkfaces allowed!! I think that's a pretty good way to start. And I'm the decider. If I decide you are an Jerkface you are sent off to where Marilyn Manson and Yzma are making out for all of perpetuity.

14. You have been given the opportunity to create the half-hour TV show of your own design. What is it called and what's the premise? Well, personally I think my life would make a rather hilarious sitcom. I'd go with something along the lines of Roseanne (but more couth) with some Seinfeldian themes. I'm thinking just titling it "Redneck Diva" would be okay. People usually chuckle when I say it. It works.

15. What is your favorite expletive? The f-word is by far the BEST cuss word ever. Ever. But I'm also partial to As*hat, the ol' standby SH*T, and depending on the situation I channel my Grandma Wilson and blurt out "Sh*t, p*ss and corruption!"

16. One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren't really doing anything, they're just standing around your bed. What do you do? Do something to scare the heck outta my husband and hope that he takes out one or two when he swings at me because I scared him when waking him up.

17. Your house is on fire! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don't worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what's the one thing you're going to save from that blazing inferno? My purse.

18.The Angel Of Death has descended upon you. Fortunately, the Angel Of Death is pretty cool and in a good mood, and it offers you a half-hour to do whatever you want before you bite it. Whatcha gonna do in that half-hour? Spend it 'nuggling my babies and giving my husband instructions and calling my mom to tell her that my husband is clueless and she'll have to help him out. Man, what a depressing question.

19.You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what's even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What's it gonna be? The ability to be two places at once. As a mom I find that this would come in handy more often than not.

20. You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to relive again? I have no idea. I can't even begin to choose.

21. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? (the answer "nothing" doesn't count) Oh gosh, the loss of our first baby was devastating and as much as I miss him, I have to stick to my feelings that everything happens for a reason and no matter how horrible it was, we were supposed to go through it. And the countless broken hearts were necessary to get me where I am today.... So I guess I have to answer "nothing" even though it "doesn't count". Like, who's going to come along and throw me into detention for it?

22.You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check this out...you can move to anywhere else in the world! What country are you going to live in now? Canada. Eh.

23. This question still counts, even for those of you who are under twenty-one. Check it out. You have been eternally banned from every single bar in the world except for ONE. Which one is it gonna be? The Miami ELKS LODGE!!! Because Mrs. Coach will surely visit me there!!

24. Hopefully you didn't mention this in the super-powers question. If you did, then we'll just expand on that. Check it out...Suddenly, you have gained the ability to FLOAT!!! Whose house are you going to float to first? Well, I'd immediately float to Tater's house and holler to her, "DUDE! LOOK! I CAN SO FLOAT!!"

25. The constant absorption of magical moonbeams mixed with the radioactive vegetables you consumed earlier have given you the ability to resurrect the dead famous-person of your choice. So which late celebrity will you bring back to life? Will they be any fun? Johnny Carson. He rocked.

26.The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn't think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back? As long as he could return her in full health, I'd say Memaw. She suffered so much here on earth, I'd hate for anyone to return to that after having been in heaven. But I miss her so much! If I could have her back and healthy....that'd be awesome.

27. What's your theme song? If I Had $1,000,000 by Barenaked Ladies.

I'm not tagging anyone, but if you want to play along, let me know in the comments so I can check it out! It was actually a pretty fun meme.

Extra! Extra! Read all about it! "WHS Alumini Banquet - BORING AS ALL GET OUT"

Okay, it wasn't all boring, but most of it .... yeah, pretty much most of was, as I said, "boring as all get out".

I would've been the youngest person there had it not been for the 2003 graduate who was working in the kitchen.

Yes, the 33 year old, grayer than her 43 year old husband, overweight mother of three was the next-to-the-youngest person at an all-school reunion banquet.

Oh man, Paul did NOT want to go, as I chronicled here, but I badgered the poor man into giving in. I harped, nagged, offered, bribed and yes, flat-out whined at him until he had no choice but to agree to attend with me. And even though he had said repeatedly that he didn't want to see any of his old classmates, I thought for sure he'd see someone from 1981 that caused a flood of memories to come a'rushin' back and he'd drag me to a bar afterwards with the whole crew so we could relive his glory days together.

We got there around 5:30 and the one guy that he'd said repeatedly that he hated the most and he hoped wasn't going to be there was just getting out of his truck. Oy. I saw my husband bristle and thought, "Well, that was a fun drive to Wyandotte. Guess we'll be going now," but instead me mumbled something about "Ihatethat[insert expletives here]", but still we were moving toward the door. I was still hopeful. And I could see where he'd have had issues with this guy that he really hated - he just really acted like a jerk. He exhaled jerk-ness and gave off bad vibes. And he was a lot shorter than he looked in the yearbook. I found that kind of funny. In a twisted kind of way.

Paul refused to put on his nametag, refused to sit at the honored 25th year table and refused to even speak to any of his classmates. I kind of figured there'd be nobody from my class - us folks from the 90's just don't get into this kind of scene I guess. Well, except for me and I'm a bit of a nerd ya know. So we visited with Pat, a guy that my mom graduated with and Tony, a guy that graduated 2 years before them. Pat eventually talked Paul into wearing his nametag and told us to pick out some seats. Of course, we picked out the table furthest away from everything including the food, oxygen and the ability to hear what was being said, but that's okay, Paul was far away from The Jerk.

Finally my mother arrived and Paul relaxed a bit. If anyone can make a situation more fun, it's my mom. She can relax a homophobe before a prostate exam (Not that she's actually that hands on with her relaxing ways....oh anyway). Mom flitted about the room not unlike the proverbial ferret on crack, visiting with scads of people young and old. She knows everyone on the planet, I swear. My Uncle the Politician and his lovely wife, my Aunt Janet, arrived and took seats with us back on the moon's surface where the oxygen was scarce, but the company was great. Aunt Janet said, "Hey, you're here! Last I read, Paul, you weren't coming." I forgot she reads my blog. Every time a person from the class of '81 would come in I'd point them out to my husband and he'd shrug and grunt. He never moved from his seat. I started to whip out some wisdom wisdom and tell him, "If you go somewhere thinking you'll have a rotten time, chances are you will", but decided that I'd keep my mouth shut and stay cheery. After all, he had said, "Bite me. I ain't goin'," before. Aunt Janet was right - at least he was there.

Dinner was delightful - big ol' chicken leg/thighs smoked to yummy perfection, tater salad, (No actual Taters were harmed in the making of the salad. I checked.) baked beans, hot rolls and cobbler. Mom and Pat had gotten their plates and were down at the end of the line kind of huddled together. I sidled up to them and said, "What are you two doin'?" and Pat nonchalantly said, "Oh, just rubbing some sauce on your mom's thigh." AGH!! I squealed something about needing to bleach my eyes and my brain and went back to the table where my non-eating husband was sitting. My not-eating husband? you ask - Oh, he had eaten pizza here at home before we left. And had failed to tell me that he wouldn't be partaking until after I had paid his $12. Grr.

After dinner we sang the school song. Thanks to Cap'n Neurotic's mom, I know every word to the school song still to this day and will know it until I die. Although I only got a 98 on the test because I forgot the RAH RAH! at the end. Dang those RAH RAH's. I don't forget 'em now, by cracky, though. Forever will the RAH RAH's live.

Then came the roll call - 100-some-odd old dudes with a handful of Baby Boomers and a GenXer (Or is it GenY? I lose track) thrown in for good measure, standing and saying their names and where they were from. Some would give a brief (or not so brief) life story, some just blurted out their name and the wrong hometown, like I did. I always say I'm from Fairland because that's where my kids go to school, even though we have a Miami address. It's just something I do. I sat down and My Uncle the Politician, Aunt Janet and Mom were all staring at me. Finally Mom said, "Fairland? You're not from Fairland!" Agh. When it came time for Paul's class to be recognized, the lot of us moon-dwellers cajoled him into going up front. Okay, so it was mainly me because I heard the honored classes got mugs. I wanted a mug! I thought, how much more school-spirited could I be but to drink my morning coffee from a WHS mug? As he was walking up front, Mom leaned over and said, "How much you wanna bet he says he's from Miami?" Sure enough, he's from Miami, I'm from Fairland. How people will talk.

A lady stood up to sing a song and told us that while she was singing to think of all of the classmates we had lost through the years. Hoo boy, let's end this shindig on a happy note, why don't we? Yeesh. We've only lost one, so instead of getting bogged down into a saddened mess I instead took my butter knife and began sawing on my wrists, which in turn led Pat into pretending to stab himself in the throat and Tony attempted a gut wound. My Uncle the Politician had to maintain some decorum while we children amused ourselves, but I think he was slightly amused just the same. Or maybe he wasn't. A few members of the Class of 1976 had obviously received a phone call from a long-lost class member and proceded to pass the phone around the table during the whole program. I offered to stick that phone where the sun don't shine, but Mom gave me that classic "Shut your mouth or I'll put half-moon shaped marks on your wrists with my fingernails" and that made me quit with the threats. But it still added to the giggling hilarity back in the corner. Yes, we were juvenile, but the Lucky Turtle Casino was just mere yards from us and we all could feel it's unmistakable pull. I even suggested we all cut out early, but Aunt Janet said, "YOU'RE the one who wanted this! You're staying!" She was right. So I just sat there and continued to make fun of people.

I wonder if I'll ever grow up.

Nah. I doubt it.

But I'll drink my coffee out of my husband's WHS mug and giggle about Tony doing the whole "Parkay" bit with the butter tub and remember fondly the 2006 WHS Alumni Banquet. I'll shout my RAH RAH's when the school song is over and I'll always have an unexplainable urge to wear black and white on Fridays.

March Wyandotte High with our colors on high

and shout loudly for dear old school we love so well

Sing to our dear banner of black and white

so we will be true as we march onward and yell,

THE BEARS WILL FIGHT!

THE BEARS WILL FIGHT!

THE BEARS WILL FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT!"

"THE BEARS WILL FIGHT!

"THE BEARS WILL FIGHT!

"THE BEARS WILL FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT"

Here's to the school that we love best of all.

We march with our colors of black and white on high.

Loyal and true we will come to her call

And prove that her spirit and pep will never die!

RAH RAH!

Herd of wild children

Today I had 10 kids in my house. I took 8 of them - the big kids - outside and sprayed them with the hose during naptime. Our water bill is going to be outrageous, but dang, we had fun. They played Water Limbo (pretty self-explanatory), Fill 'Er Up (They'd hold open the backs of their suits and holler "Fill 'er up!" and I'd spray down the back of their pants. We are an easily amused people.), Rain (Me holding the hose straight up in the air) and my favorite was Stampede! (I'd spray the house to my right and when all the kids were almost to the spray, I'd move the hose to my left and honestly, they sounded like a herd of wild buffalo running to the other side.)

I put 50 SPF on the kids. Me, not so much. Well, except for all four tattoos - those are always sunscreened when I go outside. I'm religious about it. I'm getting that itchy, tight-skinned feeling on my back and arms already. My head will be sunburn free because I pirated up before going out.

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The baby isn't quite sure what to think of me in a 'do rag. He knows my voice and will get all wiggly when he hears me, then he looks at me like "Woahhhhhh, dude. You are SO not who I thought you were!" Speaking of the adorable Baby Divinity...I fed him bananas today. Divinity, I'm so glad you sent that jar of bananas! He was like a ferret on crack! The squealing, slobbering, spoon-grabbing, foot kicking euphoria of Gerber bananas was so dang cute! And I thought the squash yesterday was a hoot.

---------------------------------

I still haven't quite managed to talk Paul into the Alumni Banquet Saturday night. I made him bbq ribs for dinner last night, a double batch of no-bake cookies and then hinted around that there would be ... you know ... if he wanted it. I had a plan.

We got into bed.....I reached over and started running my fingernails down his arm......quietly I said, "So...baby?....." and he was all like, "Yeah? What does my girl want?" and I was all like, "Mmmm.....baby.....I want you to....." and he was all like, "Yeah?? You want me to what?".......and I was all like,"Mmmmmyeah....I just want you to.......to take me to the Alumni Banquet Saturday night."

His reply: "Bite me. I ain't goin'."

And I got 8 hours of sleep. I'm not sure he did.

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I have figured something out. The show LOST wasn't named that because these people are lost on an island. I mean, think about it....the show could've easily been more appropriately named "Stranded" or "Planewrecked" or something like that. No, the execs named the show LOST because that is exactly how the people who are addicted to the show walk around all the time - completely lost as to what the heck is going on.

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Last week we had 14 cats on the place. We are down to 5 now. We have a very fat and well-fed fox, owl or grizzly bear, though.

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Parental words that I never dreamed would come out of my mouth:

"YOUNG LADY!! NO, that cat does NOT want to ride in the carseat on your bike!"

"If you spray that hose at me one. more. time. I will personally shove it up your rear and laugh while I do it." (In my defense, the water was cold.)

"Honey, would you please put sunscreen on mommy's TinkerBell tattoo?"

Preference

She: ...And the storage building rent is late again this month. I've had the check made out for weeks, but haven't gotten it over there.

Me: Well, can't you mail it?

She: I guess. But I don't have his address. He just really prefers it in his back door.

Me: Well, some guys just do. You really can't fault him for that.

Big Blogger 2 - Task #4 - Interior Design

Last week, had it not been for another gracious serving of immunity, I fear I would've found myself begging for mercy so as not to get booted from the Cyberhouse. I was kind of late on my task because of that pesky time difference between Australia and the US. Oops, my bad. Big Blogger is not known for her leniency so I gotta say there was a little apprehension that she would take away my immunity, not unlike that sneaky fox, Swiper. But this week....oh this week I am getting things done earlier. Tonight is the season finale of LOST and from 8 until 10 I will be rear to the couch, so I'm using precious, quiet, peaceful naptime to tell y'all about the newly redesigned

Big Blogger 2 Cyberhouse Kitchen


Because I am used to cooking for mass quanities of children, I have thought long and hard about this kitchen remodel. While there are no children in the Cyberhouse, there are nine seven adults and that's just as bad. So we must have a sturdy, useable kitchen with lots of cleaning and safety features.

When you walk in the doors on your right you will notice a row of hooks. On these hooks you will not see traditional chef attire - aka funny tall hat and cheffy looking coat thing - but tie-dyed, oversized t-shirts and do'rags. The tie-dyed shirts will mask and camouflage any spills, drips, dribbles and splatters and there will be various colors available. If you're making spaghetti, go with the orange and red shirt. Blueberry pie? We have a blue and purple version just for that. Plus they're retro chic and very comfy. And the do'rags aren't just for keeping hair out of the food (gag), but they also make us all look dannnnnnnng cool. And pirate-y. Yarr.

The counter tops are all height-adjustable so you can be comfortable while you slice, dice, pour, store, drain and strain. Cutting boards are built in, so you don't have to search and search through the cookie sheets and cooling racks. Just tap the correct button on the console in the center of each counter and voila' - your cutting board is waiting before you.

Also, featured on the console is a button for antibacterial hand sanitizer. No one really wants Sal-mon-illa, do they? Just push the button and you are offered a handy institutional-size pump bottle of germ-killing nectar of the obsessive/compulsive gods. And if you've been chopping up hunks of meat from Cut-Up Cow, you can push another button to sanitize the counter tops as well. I mean, the Cut-Up Cow is going to keep all of the beef fresh and disease-free, but what about Van Turkeys? Huh? What about them, indeed?

The console also has buttons for music, which is something every pirate-y chef needs in order to be efficient in the kitchen. Too many cooks in the kitchen and none want to listen to the same music? Headphones and earbuds are hanging just below the tie-dyed shirts at the door.

The Cyberhouse will also come equipped with a Cabana Boy named Carlos. Why does the kitchen need a Cabana Boy named Carlos? Because I said so, that's why.

There are no toilets in the kitchen, no matter what Hilbilly Mom wants. I just can't allow it. Yes, yes I realize that Cazzie's Cool Cleaner is a very effective cleaner indeed, but I'm drawing the line at potties in the pantry. Or anywhere near the pantry. There is a dinette set, a lounge (so the Cabana Boy can feed you grapes) and a formal dining table. Take your pick from those and if you don't like them, well, then you can go to the loo to eat.

Is anyone else fed up with someone using all but the last shred of paper towels on the roll and not putting a new roll on the hanger? And if they took the energy to get a new roll, they just left it sitting on the counter top? Well, that won't happen in the Cyberhouse Kitchen. No, the paper towels are neverending. Just like the toilet paper in the loo. And the pasta bowls at Olive Garden.

Also, all of the cans have labels that are the same front and back. This way, I don't spend my days turning all the labels facing out. And of course, the storage containers and canisters are made by FittyStore, the company that makes FittyMaid Brand Storage Containers.

But the most amazing features of the Cyberhouse Kitchen is the self-cleaning feature. At day's end, when all of the cooking, slicing, dicing, grape-eating and frollicking is done and you're ready to retire to the Hillmomba Slumber Cavern, you just shut the doors and push the button. When you arrive back in the kitchen the next morning, the kitchen is sparkly clean and ready for another day. But beware - the self-cleaning cycle is pretty much like that of a self-cleaning oven. If you hide in the kitchen to play footsie-wootsies or handsy-wandsies with the cabana boy a little longer, chances are you and Carlos are going to be crispy critters by morning.



The rest of the Krusty Krew:
Hillbilly Mom
Perspectives of a Nomad
I Don't Do Mornings!
Lantern Light
Legless in Perpetuum
Scotland of the Soul

Redeemed

Last night Tater and I took the kids to see Over the Hedge.

I feel like I got back the two hours I lost seeing RV.

Woody's Roundup

Right now there are 7 children in my toyroom. And there are two more on the way. I love summer. My house is always full of oodles of children and the noise and giggling and spontaneous dancing that occurs is enough to make me one of the happiest people on the planet. Just now I was playing "My Humps" by the Black Eyed Peas (Hey, only the most educational music for my kids) and even the babies were dancing. These kids know a danceable beat when they hear it.

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Friday night was our end of the year ceremony thing for Girl Scouts. It went off without a hitch. The girls remembered their parts and Abby and MaKayla looked so big as they crossed the bridge and donned their new green sashes, all blank and ready to be filled with many, many badges next year. I had stressed out over it all week and Tater made fun of me saying, "I hope none of your kids get married if this is how you react over a little thing like this!" Well, I just wanted it to be memorable. I still remember my bridging ceremony! Magnet Lady and Magnet Sister interrupted the ceremony so that the girls could present Tater and I with flowers, which made me all misty. And I got misty again when we sent Taylor across the bridge to her momma (They're military now and will be moving this summer). Thankfully none of us broke down and really cried, which I was afraid we'd do. Well, except for Tater who thought us all rather silly for being sentimental in the first place, the big poot.

After the ceremony we had dessert and everyone kind of milled around and visited. Then after that, the grandparents and uncles and daddies left and we had our last shindig of the school year - a camp out. Magnet Lady and Magnet Sister, Tater and I were the parents that had planned on staying and then we talked Jeanie, Magnet Lady's best friend, into staying as well. Jeanie, ML and I graduated together so we were walking down memory lane by having a sleep over together again.

We had grand plans of playing flashlight tag, but the brand new batteries I had put in Abby and Addison's flashlights went dead after 5 minutes, so that was out. So pretty much we just let the girls run around and do what they wanted. Well, as long as it was safe. They giggled and ran and squealed and so did the little girls. Around 10 we came inside and gave the girls a healthy bedtime snack of Double-Stuft Oreos and milk and then it hit us adults that we hadn't eaten dinner so I whipped us up some smoked sausages, again a healthy meal right at bedtime.

We retired to the tents close to midnight, hermetically sealed the girls in theirs and then got into ours and proceded to giggle and talk sex and stuff until nearly 3am. The girls finally quit their giggling around 2:30. One of our famous Diva Skunks kept playing Hide and Smell with us all night, which punctuated the night with frantic wakeups and scurrying to find the flashlight to see if it was in eyesight, aka lurking outside our tents with tailed raised in spraying mode. But Jake slept between the two tents all night long and never even stirred when we smelled the skunk, so it was obviously not close. The wind was just right, I guess.

I woke up around 5:30 and Magnet Sister woke up shortly after that. The other grownups were awake by 6 but we all dozed back off again. I woke up at 7:40 and Magnet Sister did, too. We both came inside and started breakfast. Mr. Diva went out and sprayed the adult tent with water, but that didn't get them up, so with Magnet Sister and I giggling quietly behind him, he headed outside with a shotgun. He snuck around to the girls' tent and told them to not be scared and that he'd be shooting a gun into the air. He fired off about 3 shots just boomboomboom and Magnet Sister and I both started squealing and screaming, "It's still moving!! Oh MY GOSH it's still ALIVE!!" We saw the big tent start shaking, then Tater's head poked out the door and she growled, "What'sgoin'onouthere". She kind of reminded me of a sleepy-headed - albeit white - Arnold from Different Strokes.

After feeding the crew pancakes and bacon we let the girls play until their parents picked them up. Then I slept pretty much the entire afternoon while Mr. Diva went out riding with his brother and my children's brains rotted while they watched too much TV.

We had secured an overnight stay at Tater's for the kids because we had been invited to a wedding, but we decided to instead go to the movies. We had a romantic dinner at Sonic (Mmmm....Jumbo Popcorn Chicken) and then saw RV. We toyed with going to see Over the Hedge, but since we knew that one or both of us would see it with the kids, we opted on something non-animated. Bad choice. The two hours spent watching RV are two hours of my life I'll never get back. And that makes me sad. It was so horrendously stupid that words really fail me in describing it.

But quite possibly, hopefully, I will gain those two hours back with the satisfaction I will get from seeing NACHO LIBRE weekend after next. I am so stoked about it I can hardly stand it.

And even though the movie was a bomb, we came back home and had - yep, you guessed it - RLTKAOOTHS. (For the new folks: Really Loud The Kids Are Out Of The House Sex) That almost redeemed the 2 hours lost during the movie.

And yesterday my dad and husband installed my new ceramic, flat-top stove top!! I have pictures of the campout and of the range installation, but I'll have to retrieve them from the camera and I don't have time right now. But suffice it to say that I cooked dinner last night on FOUR WHOLE BURNERS that all worked at once!! It was a very liberating experience.

And now I must go. There are 9 children in my house now:
5 months
12 months
15 months
4 years - x3
7 years - x2
and 9 years

Yes, I'm insane.

Big Blogger 2 Challenge - Task #3 - Ode to my...

I have waited until the very last possible moment, but I'm finally writing my ode.

Even though I do have IMMUNITY again this week! WAHOO! It sure pays to be insane and write stupid stuff in the Diary Room of the Cyberhouse sometimes.

Without further ado -

Ode to My Toothbrush

Oh toothbrush, sweet toothbrush,
You are chock full of bristle-y goodness
and oh so ergonomically designed.

Not only are you a welcome massage to my gums
But you also keep my teeth from tartar and plaque
when I apply you properly according to ADA guidelines.

Your purple handle lets me know that you are mine
and not my husband's.
I will swap slobber with the man,
but he's wise to never touch you, dear toothbrush,
or place you in his own mouth
for you are mine and mine alone.

I see you sitting there in the toothbrush holder
with ladybugs and flowers adorning it.
I see you there each morning, greeting me
like a good toothbrush should.

Oh toothbrush, how I love thee!
You have kept me cavity-free for two and a half months now
and we still have a half a month to go.

Yes, sweet toothbrush....alas, but your life is but three months long.
It is a sad day when I must replace you with another.
It will again be purple-handled, but I'll always remember you.

Especially when I use you to scrub the grout in the shower.