The blessedness has come to an end

Much to my dismay, sadness, disappointment, etc. I believe I must, at last, admit defeat. I'm fairly certain that Cade's circadian rhythm has finally made the complete adjustment to Daylight Savings Time.

How do I know this, you might ask?

I heard his feet hit the floor at 6:28 Friday morning. On an old pier and beam foundation, you can pretty much hear a thud if someone drops a paper napkin on the floor.

I awoke 2 despised minutes prior to my alarm going off with Cade at the foot of my bed asking if he could get into bed with us. Sure. Because he always falls back to sleep immediately rather than making a million annoying noises with his mouth and attempting to use my semi-sleeping body as resistance to strengthen his legs and arms.

And it's not as if he's going to go back to sleep when I was getting out of bed and heading for the shower.

This morning? It was 7:11 when I heard the boys fighting. It's like waking up to a rooster crowing. You can pretty much count on it coming early. Only it's considerably less pleasant. And if you're thinking that waking up to a crowing rooster is NOT on your list of Pleasant Ways to be Awakened, then you know how much worse it is around our household.

Ah well, Sleeping In and I had a good run. It was glorious while it lasted. Maybe we'll see each other again someday. Until then, I'll be dreaming about it.

Exhausted Forever,

One Tired Mama

The DNA tests may prove she doesn't belong to me

Because the boys had such great days, respectively, at school last Tuesday, and because I got home from my pilates class so late, it was a perfect excuse to give into the boys' repeated requests to eat at a local fast food italian joint. This particular establishment offers a Tuesday special that boasts a trio of spaghetti, fettucini, and a slice of pizza for $2.99. Because we are totally into exotic culinary experiences.

If you are suspicious of the quality of food one can purchase for $2.99, then you should pay close attention to your gut instincts. In this case, you definitely get what you pay for in the quality department.

Still, it was cheap and the breadsticks (FREE!) are to die for. When deciding what to order for our 3 little angels, it was decided that the boys would split a special. That just left Missy. So I did the obvious- I asked her what she wanted.

Her response was anything but obvious.

"Sa-yed." (2 yr. old speak for "salad").

I'm sorry, did I hear you correctly, sweetie? What do you want for dinner?

"Sa-yed."

Oooookay.

So I ordered her a garden salad.

Any innocent patron of said restaurant who might have been surveying our table must have had the passing thought that they should make an immediate call to CPS. 4 of us were chowing down on marinara-smothered carbs while our little darling munched on rabbit food. Like we were the crazy parents putting our toddler on a diet.

If I've ever in my life craved salad, it has only been the kind covered in bacon, croutons, cheese. And drowned in ranch. With some carrots thrown in for token nutrients. Yet Missy is now asking for salad at every turnaround. Just tonight when we asked her what she wanted for dinner, her response was, "I wan say-ed." SERIOUSLY?!?!?! She's begging for salad. Literally. At this moment.

I carried her inside of me for 40 weeks. I delivered her after only a few hours of induced labor. I've been there for her, loving her and teaching her for the last 2 1/2 years. But right now, I'm not convinced she's mine.

I need a life

After reading this post of Boomama's yesterday, I had such enormously high expectations of scoring a $2 dress that I did the unthinkable. I went to the store-that-must-not-be-named ALONE and AFTER DARK. I NEVER go ALONE and AFTER DARK. It's a self-preservation technique. But desperation makes one throw caution to the wind.

I did legitimately needed a few items that couldn't wait. Namely, Smucker's Uncrustables PB&J sandwiches. Because we ran out. And the ham-and-cheese I packed in Micah's lunch went completely untouched (I suspect he never even removed it from its baggie home). And because I'm too lazy busy in the mornings to take the time to spread the sandwich makings on the bread.

Be that as it may, the possibility of the CHEAP DRESS was too irresistible to keep me away. I may have found myself breathing an urgent prayer that I might find THE DRESS on the clearance rack. I think that indicates that my prayer life needs a bit of work. Please pray for me.

I landed a shopping cart and set off to locate the clearance racks. I felt my spirit fall a notch when I noticed that the cheapest signage I saw was $3. My dress was supposed to be $2, but I was determined to not lose all hope.

I circled each rack carefully, like a vulture circling its prey. Or like those bored polar bears in zoos that just swim around and around. I've heard it's because they need more enrichment. It's quite possible my life needs deeper enrichment. Unless you count risking life and limb by shopping at the-store-who-must-not-be-named after 8:00 PM? Don't answer that.

I circled and I circled, inspecting each cheaply made garment for any sign of a sleeveless spectacle. And there were some very cheap spectacles, namely a substantial amount of clothing with large gold adornments or patches of material missing where one should ALWAYS have fabric. And lots of elastic waistbands. I'm definitely NOT ready to embrace the elastic. Not just yet.

After going around and around so many times that I got a little dizzy, my suspicions were confirmed and I admitted defeat. There were no cheap summer dresses being clearanced at my store. To add insult to injury, some sandals I had been eyeing, but put off purchasing because they were marked too high (according to my arbitrary scale of pricing goods at the-store-that-must-not-be-named), had all disappeared. They must have hit clearance when I wasn't looking. Which means that it was sometime between March 22nd and March 24th. Dang.

Clearly Boomama has a better prayer life than I. But I'll be keeping an eye out for some more serious markdowns. Because my life is full of enrichment.

World Wide Web Wednesday 03.24.09

A couple of funnies and one really serious...

If you love your cats like Angela Martin on The Office loves hers, then this may be for you: Kitty Wigs. I'm having a hard time believing it's real, but sadly I think it is. (Shout out to @miraclemandy for that one!)

Forget tinyurl.com. Size does matter!

And finally, please pray for Stellan. Mckmama started the "Not me!" Monday blog carnival. Her littlest guy is very sick right now. CHeck out her blog for the latest details.

Happy Wednesday!!

Blogging...how I miss thee

The last few days have been so incredibly full that I've been left with little time for any "extras." And for now, blogging is considered an "extra."

So what have I been doing? I can't really say. And not because it's top secret. Just because I'm not really sure.

We did have some friends in town on Friday night, which was a blessing beyond belief! We all went out to dinner at 7:00. Yes, that's PM. Because everyone knows that's when the crowds begin to form and what could be better than waiting to be seated for 45 minutes with 3 hungry and rambuctious children in a large crowd? However, it was so incredible to be able to visit with old friends over great food. We're Baptist... everything good happens over food.

It's also great fun to put one's children to bed at 10:00 on a Friday night after said dinner. You know why? Because they actually SLEEP LATE on Saturday. So while the means might have been somewhat frazzling to my nerves, the ends was completely justified. Cade, our earliest riser, slept until 8:00!

That might not sound so tempting to any child-free folks out there, but waking at 8:00 means he can watch one good hour of his "shows" before I have to peel myself from beneath the sheets to make breakfast. And that's parenting bliss right there, y'all.

Saturday, my wonderful mother-in-law came for a visit and we all went shopping at the outlet mall. Our original venture was to try to score some cheap flatware at the Oneida store close-out, but that was a bust.

Instead, we got Missy's ears pierced. Which, in hidsight, might not have been the best idea considering that when I threatened to take them out if she didn't hold still during one of our three (!!) daily cleanings, she began to plead and scream, "Take them out! Take them out!" It was a threat I was not good for. For she is still wearing her "er"rings today. She's also adopting some ghetto vernacular, apparently.

Sunday brought church, a body-shaping class (I'm becoming a more well-defined lump) at the Y, and laundry. I actually folded several loads (that had been clean and piled since last week), but I haven't put them away. I also began my bi-annual clothing preparation for our local consignment sale. Which means that I'm fighting desperately to keep our currently-clean-and-folded-laundry from getting mixed in with piles of last year's spring and summer stuff. And failing miserably.

Yesterday at work, I actually had to DO WORK. How novel. And it's shaping up to be another fast-paced week. I hope I can keep up!

(*Also wanted to add that I have over 100 blogs to read in my google reader. I'm so far behind I may never catch up. So if I normally comment on your site, please pardon my absence. I beg your forgiveness.)

Blog Party!

I came across a link for the 2009 Ultimate Blog Party! Sounds like a blast! I'm always up for discovering new blogs, so I'm joining in... My link is about the thousandth one on there (day late, dollar short, per usual), so I doubt many will find me, but it will be fun blog hopping with everyone else.



Click the button in this post or on my sidebar if you want to join the fun, too!

Spring has Sprung!

Clever title, huh? I had a hard time reigning in my creative juices with that one. It was between that title or "Happy Spring." But something about the alliteration made the chosen title slightly more desirable.

But let's just get really excited here for a minute. Because TODAY is the FIRST day of spring!!!

We all know what spring means, right? The arrival of spring means that it's time to finally shed that winter coat. And by "shed that winter coat" I mean I have to start shaving my legs on a regular basis again. Seriously.

My lower limbs haven't seen the light of day since sometime back in November, except for that one time I had to visit the, ahem, OB/Gyn for my annual visit. And that's all I'm going to say on THAT matter. Except that I did shave that day. Because no way was I going to expose Chewbacca legs to two complete strangers.

Besides that doctor visit and showering, my legs have been mercifully covered by all manner of leg wear: pants, jeans, tights, etc. Alas, Texas is getting MUCH too warm for this style of apparel.

Which brings me to my yearly quandry. When, exactly, do I begin the process of exposing my legs to the sun, yea even to other PEOPLE who appreciate SIGHT?

I was cursed with skin that absolutely refuses to color. I'm not albino, but pretty close. Saying I'm "fair" doesn't even begin to describe it, although somebody actually called me peaked once. Not only am I white as a ghost, but I also look sickly to boot? Thanks.

I'm the type of person that can hardly find foundation in a pale enough shade.

Not only do I not tan under normal Texas sun circumstances, but I refuse to go to tanning beds because I have several of the indicators that put me at high risk for skin cancer (fair skin, light eyes, and family history). Plus, I'm not too keen on frying up my inner parts. I'm still using them for now.

When I do get sun, it's burn, baby, burn. Then I peel the layers all the way back to white. Except for all the freckles. If I'm really lucky, the sheer amount of freckles dotting my skin begin to run together and look like some sort of mottled tan.

So back to my dilemma. I face it every year. Do I just uncover for unlimited amounts of time each day and pray I don't get sued for the eye damage someone might experience if they stare at my legs too long? It's like looking directly into the sun.

Or do I expose them for just a few minutes at a time until everyone has adjusted to the glare?

It's exactly like entering a really cold swimming pool. It doesn't matter if you jump in quickly or lower your body in slowly. The result is the same. The pool doesn't get any warmer- your body adjusts.

My legs aren't going to get any darker no matter what I do, so my best defense is probably to just embrace the Season of the Self-Tanner. Until November when I can cover them up again.