Should I be worried if my SIL posted this quote on her Fbook page? The quote that holds the title of my blog from one of my favorite writers? The quote that is also on my Fbook page under my favorite quotations….no one could be that good of a detective, could they?
My stats have not spiked incredibly so I’d say I might be safe. I hope.
Lots to write about but I’m in the midst of surprise birthday party planning for my dad.
Be back soon!
If an unannounced visitor stopped by my house today I would be extremely embarrassed. It looks like a tornado swept through it. It’s unfortunate that the tornado didn’t have a broom attached and swept floors on it’s way through.
On the kitchen table there is a diaper bag that looks like it threw up. A pair of jeans I bought Rob for Father’s Day that are too small for him in such a way that when he tried them on I saw things through those jeans that even though I love him and think he’s quite attractive, I don’t even want to see (your welcome). They are waiting on the table to be exchanged. There is another pair of pants and a shirt that Rob laid out last night before he went to bed so that this morning when he woke up at the butt crack of dawn to go golfing he would not wake me when he’s in search of an outfit. Apparently he had a wardrobe crisis and went with a different outfit. There are two library books as well. On the counter (I call it the bar counter) there are two stacks of mail, one pile needs to go in the trash but didn’t make it, the other pile is precious because it contains my FINALLY received student loan information and the letter from the unemployment agency giving me another 26 weeks! Thank you for that, Baby J. There is also two opened boxes of garbage bags, two boxes of sandwich bags, and aluminum foil. This is out of the last drawer that has not been baby proofed that Luke found his way into this morning and instead of playing that game where I keep filling and shutting the drawer and he keeps opening it and emptying it, I just put everything on the counter until Rob can install the last and final safety latch.
As you can see, I am typing and not cleaning.
Everything has finally been baby proofed with safety latches and last week we installed the gate in the staircase since we gave birth to a monkey that can learn to climb a stair case but has yet to take a step on his own. With the installation of the baby gate leads us to another problem, our dog. Star cannot get over the gate, obviously, and so unless we want to listen to a tap dancing dog show all night on our wood floors or constant barking, we have to lift her chubby highness over it every night and morning. My back is starting to hurt.
I did do some cleaning on Wednesday which involved the bathroom and sweeping but the dog hair is out of control and no matter what I do, it’s never gone.
I have a party at my house a week from tomorrow, I hope it can look somewhat presentable. Luke will be ONE YEAR OLD in less than a month which involves another party, and holy crap I can hardly believe it.
So…I guess I should get off the computer and go get some crap done so I can enjoy this holiday weekend which will involve a parade, some beach time, some park time and some running time.
Happy 4th of July. Smooch.
I’ve really been debating since Friday whether or not I wanted to write something about the recent death of Michael Jackson. I have been quite sad about it and although I have not shed a tear, I did have one waiting near by that decided not to slip. Early Thursday my dad had stopped by for a quick visit and mentioned to me that he was sad about Farrah. I could imagine why, he grew up with her, she was 62 and he’s almost 60. I think it effects us more when someone passes who is the same age as us.
It wasn’t long after that that I heard the news about Michael Jackson. I was at the gas station pump as a matter of fact, and I was informed by a lady who was apparently still living in 1984 with her feathered hair and blue eye shadow.
My reaction? “NOWAY!”
Amelia, who was waiting in the car for me while I pumped the gas, heard me say that through the window and thought I was responding to the gas prices. This makes me laugh later when she tells me.
It’s odd when I feel this sad, like I shouldn’t because I didn’t know him, he was rather odd, and I DIDN’T KNOW HIM. But then it occurred to me.
Whoever MJ is, whatever he did or didn’t do personally still doesn’t change the Michael Jackson music I listened to as a child. It doesn’t change that I have memories attached to his music and that what I really mourn is that’s all they are; memories. Innocence gone. Now I’m surrounded by mortgages, knee deep in poopy diapers, and using my mascara brush to cover my gray roots because I can’t find the time to go to the salon. His death made me stop for minute and watch my childhood fade further and further away.
Don’t forget that I was once invited to a party he was supposed to be at. That was 26 years ago.
I just miss the simplicity of that time, being a kid, so badly wanting to be a grown up. I wish it wasn’t that way, but it usually is.
That’s all I wanted to say about it. And now I’ll beat it.
I’m not sure what kind of second job is out there for a Tooth Fairy in this economy….but that’s a lot of teeth coming in at top speed!
Everyday we tried to get Luke in the pool and everyday he got a little better and finally stayed in without me in it with him.
But then he didn’t stay in long….
On Sunday we had a family outing to the Whitecaps baseball game with Papa and Uncle Mike. He pretty much sat with Uncle Mike the whole time and listened to him explain the game. Better him then me.
We had a really fun weekend!
Saturday was probably one of the best nights I’ve had in long time, but that’s going to be a post by itself. I have a few busy weeks ahead which include a trip across state, a holiday and a getting the final things ready for my dad’s surprise party. I better get moving!
When you put a onesie on your baby and it looks like a scoop neck tee from Express, you know it’s too small. Luke is growing fast out his onesies and actually has no pants that fit him right now that aren’t lined or heavy for winter months. I was bored the other night and was playing on the internet and found that Baby Gap and Old Navy had some pants on clearance for his next size up. I thought it might be good to get him pants now and not wait until Fall when nothing is on clearance. I almost ordered them right then but then decided that 7.00 dollars for shipping was ridiculous and a trip to the mall would give us something to do. We went yesterday morning and I did find him 2 pairs of very cute pants for half off. It’s also time to clean out the dresser of any sizes 6-9 months so I put that on my todo list.
I did notice in the morning that the belly of the Xterra needed to be filled but I forgot about it on the way back.
Later in the day my dad called and asked if I could pick him up from the hospital and bring him home since my brother had an appointment. No problem. I told him I had to stop and get gas and then I’d be there.
Or maybe what I should have said was, “I’m going to attempt to stop and get gas but I’m going to RUN OUT OF IT FIRST so it will take me longer than I anticipate!”
Yes people, I ran out of gas on the way to the gas station. The Xterra started sputtering and even then my initial thought was we are breaking down and not that my truck was actually DEHYDRATED. That thought was quick to escape though and I soon realized that I was indeed running out of gas and OH SHIT. I turned off the air conditioning and prayed hard to Baby J that I could just get to the parking lot of the store that the gas station resides in so I didn’t have to block traffic and I could be discreet so that not everyone in the free world would know I am a MORON.
We barely made it into a parking spot, I was all jacked up and crooked parked. Then I became one of those people I do not enjoy, those people who feel the need to explain themselves to STRANGERS. I did just that to a lady who parked next to me and kind of looked at me odd for parking crooked so I started my rambling. Like running out gas makes me look smarter than parking crooked, ah NO.
Luke is babbling in the backseat, probably telling me how dumb I am and I’m thinking, “Okay, okay I can handle this.” Surprisingly I wasn’t frustrated and found more humor in the situation then I normally would and hey, I have something to blog about!
I packed up Luke in his stroller. We strolled over to the gas station and asked for the little gas container. We filled it. People did look at me. When I pulled up to the pump behind the stroller to fill the tiny gas can, I felt like people were wanting to stop and tell me that, “Strollers don’t take gas.” I was humiliated. Five minutes later though, we were back at the truck and gave her enough gas to get us to the pump. I filled it up and we were on the road again! I was feeling victory over the situation!
And today I stopped Luke from getting into a dangerous cupboard with two hair ties and teeny tiny rubberband! I’m MommyMacGyver, here HEAR me roar! (had to fix that typo!)
