Bedtime has arrived again and I haven’t recorded any grand thoughts, figured out which came first–the chicken or the egg–or even found some mildly funny words to make at least myself giggle.

In exchange for the prophetic, I leave you with some little nuggets of late.

As I sat in the doctor’s waiting room today–the foot and ankle surgeon–I looked up and took in the image of the man in a wheelchair sitting across from me. He had no legs from the knees down. WHAT THE HELL WAS HE DOING SEEING A FOOT AND ANKLE SPECIALIST?? HE DIDN’T HAVE ANY.

First grader came home from school before the holidays with a 3-D paper creation. The hubs complimented him on his dreidel. Son gave him the hairy eyeball and proclaimed, “Duh, it’s not a dreidel dad, it’s a lantern. The Jews use it to celebrate Ramadan.”

My first activity of the new year was so incredible that I don’t know how the rest of the year is going to be able to compare. I woke at 7:00 a.m. to the sounds of a whining puppy. I tried the time-tested approach of putting the pillow over my head to make her stop, but that approach was a failure. I rolled out of bed, threw on the closest items to protect any still-partying neighbors from the sight of my pale flesh and shuffled down stairs. And what was I greeted with?? A nearly six month-old puppy covered in her own poop looking up at me from her crate. So weird how the rest of my family was so tired they didn’t hear any of the whining.

There I was trying to get her out into the backyard and the crate…well somewhere without getting covered myself. Crate unceremoniously deposited in the carport awaiting some other sleeping ass’s attention, the puppy was brought upstairs for a bath–AT 7 FREAKING 30 on New Year’s Day. Oh yeah, it’s gonna take a lot to improve on the start of this year.

And no, that’s not me. I still can’t get all of the paint off from the balloons I had done for the hub’s birthday.

Like all Great Pumpkins, our’s started out something like this.

Though I just photographed this one and left it for someone else to pick.

Ours actually looked more like this:

Don’t mind the warts (on the pumpkin, not my son) he had a very nice shape–until I performed the craniotomy…

Now if you’re new here you might not know that I am surrounded by males. I’m currently shacking up with four men–okay three sons and one husband. Semantics.

Anyhow, I thought boys liked gross things.

But apparently not.

At least he wasn’t as sad about pumpkin guts as he was about his lack of a black nose a few Halloweens ago.

And yes, despite the break from traditional Muppetry, I did give the poor kid a black nose–using make-up–so he could look like his brother. I mean wouldn’t you? Look at that face.

But back to the pumpkins…and the wimpy boys in my house.

Like most men, he only wanted to help if he could use tools.

And soon he abandoned me when I refused, for the sixth time, to allow him to wield the knife. What? I think all 10 of his fingers may come in handy later (that was a bad pun and not at all intended when I wrote it, but now it’s cracking me up so it stays).

And I don’t know what’s so gross about this anyway?

Doesn’t everyone love the way pumpkins seeds feel when they’re all wet and clean in the strainer?

What’s with the crickets??

Whatev.

So abandoned to my pumpkins and with seeds separated from their stringy friends, I set forth to carve.

Hours later I ended up with this:

Why didn’t anyone tell me how hard it is not to carve all the way into a pumpkin? There’s GOT to be a trick I don’t know. Should have googled it.

By the way, that’s a white pumpkin, which makes the BOO more appropriate but I’m still figuring out all the settings on my camera.

And…my masterpiece:

Sure I used a stencil, but her nose?? I don’t mean to be a witch or anything but that was a bitch to cut out.

Please don’t focus on the wax pencil 12 above her. Why did the pumpkin patch mark the best side?? Oh and let me know if you have a trick for getting that off.

To top off the project, Vaseline has been applied and cinnamon has been sprinkled. We’re ready for Friday night.

Hmmm…that didn’t exactly come out the way I meant it to.

I have a fondness for this day we celebrate our collective Irish heritage–both real and imagined.

I don’t necessarily imbibe in green beer, though I have, and I did enjoy corned beef and cabbage today (a first). I don’t love St. Patrick’s Day because I’m particularly fond of bagpipes or long lines at Irish Pubs.

I love St. Patrick’s Day because I’m adopted.

I’ve always known I was adopted. I went straight from the hospital to my parents. I’m taller than both my parents, but I am a brunette like my mom. Like many modern families, my parents divorced and my mom remarried when I was 10, so I mainly grew up without anyone questioning if I was adopted because they knew the guy I called my dad was actually my step-father.

In my sister’s case, the fact of her adoption was a little more obvious. My first real memories are of the events surrounding her adoption when I was 3 1/2. She actually went home with her biological family for a few months before coming to us and we know that she is of Puerto Rican descent.

The ever-lovely Heather from Oh My Stinkin Heck is inspiring us once again to spread some blogging love with a pre-Valentine’s Day exercise. With just minutes to spare, I wanted to get in on the lovin’ and I’ll start with our gracious hostess.

I never actually had a chance to sit down and talk to Heather at BlogHer–a situation I hope to rectify this year–but that didn’t stop me from noticing this beautiful women furiously typing away at her Mac. She had the warmest smile and most gorgeous eyes that I just knew she would be friendly. And I can attest through following her for the last eight months she is. She is constantly looking for ways to help her fellow bloggers out with useful advice and linky love–even little ole bloggers like me.

Next, I’m sending out big, gigantic smooches to the wonderful woman who put up with me as a roommate in Chicago. More than a year ago, I started reading the words of Canape at Don’t Take the Repeats as she chronicled the heartbreak of a recent miscarriage. The bravery of honestly sharing her emotions hooked me immediately, so you can only imagine the pure joy I felt when just weeks ago she delivered the beautiful Little Bird. I can’t wait to meet him, because I know he’ll be just like his amazing parents–kind, sincere and loving. And as further proof of Canape’s beautiful heart she is also the founder of Team WhyMommy.

Speaking of WhyMommy…how could I spread some love without mentioning the brave and beautiful Susan of Toddler Planet? The forthright chronicles of her battle with inflammatory breast cancer over this past year have brought attention to the disease throughout the blogosphere and beyond and inspired many of us to value our lives just a little bit more. Thank you Susan for sharing your story with us.

I don’t want to lead you to believe that all my blog reading is so serious. There are a number of bloggers who make me laugh out loud on a daily basis. Neil and his talking Penis over at Citizen of the Month is so worth the read. He’s recently shared his blog with his therapist–brave huh? Among the guys too there are Whit, Dorky Dad and Mitch McDad (who loves to blog about vibrators) who provide me with the dude side of parenting. Their blogs make me wish they would each move their families into the houses on my cul-de-sac. The neighborhood cookouts would be classic. As for the girls, Jessica, Jenny and Lotta may be responsible for buying me a new monitor in the not so distant future for all the diet coke that has shot (shat?) out of my nose while reading their posts and comments. Not only are they hysterical online but they are each the kind of chicas you want to hang out with once you meet them in real life too. I haven’t met Kristi yet but she too is going to need to pay up.

And of course there is no way I could be throwing around my love without mentioning a number of women who are near and dear to my heart. Have you ever met someone and known immediately that you would be friends forever?? Kristie and Lisa and I had been exchanging comments for some time by the time we met up in Chicago, but with that long weekend behind us, they will never be able to shake my stink. Real, down-to-earth, funny, smart and caring don’t even begin to describe these amazing women. Love you girls!! And though I haven’t met Sara, Megan, Andi, and Jennifer yet I just know I’m going to be stalking them for years to come. Consider this a warning girls.

If you would like to participate in Heather’s festivities, you still have a half and hour or so by my clock. Thanks again Heather for giving me an excuse to let just some of the terrific bloggers in my community how wonderful they really are.

PS–If you aren’t on this list and you regularly leave me comments, please don’t think I don’t love you. I do. I do. If you’re not on this list and you DON’T leave comments, why should you be on here?? just kidding

I am grateful for so many things today–and everyday even if it seems like I forget.

Things great and small.

It is so easy to lose sight of the many blessings we have, and I love the fact that we take at least one day each year to ensure we don’t.

The community of incredible people I’ve come to know through blogging was most unexpected when I started throwing my words to the wind a little more than a year ago. I am tremendously grateful for the friendships both online and in real life it has brought me.

I hope each of you has a wonderful Thanksgiving. Please know you are in my thoughts today.

Three years ago I had an eight year-old and a two year-old, and a nine month-old who I was nursing. I had been back at work for six months at a job I really hated and my husband’s family decided that we would be celebrating Thanksgiving at his sister’s house–and frying the turkey!

I panicked.

Dinner at his sister’s? Fried turkey? How would I get my fill of my mother’s stuffing? What if they served cornbread dressing?!

And what about leftovers?!

I just knew my Thanksgiving was going to be a bust, but we were tied into the plans. So, I did what any other stressed-out, hormonal, sleep deprived woman would do. I went to the grocery store at 8:00 p.m. on the night before Thanksgiving and bought all of the makings for a Thanksgiving dinner.

Dammit! I was going to have leftovers.

Somehow I managed to find a fresh turkey, sweet potatoes, white potatoes, Pepperidge Farms dressing mix (just like mom’s) and the ingredients for both apple and pumpkin pie.

As soon as I got home, I pulled out the giblets and boiled them up to ready them for the stuffing. I chopped them and mixed them in with the breadcrumbs and seasoning and stuffed that turkey. Warmed up the oven and shoved the whole mess in.

Then it was upstairs to nurse the little guy. As typically happened with the late evening feeding, I fell sound asleep next to the baby.

At 2:30 a.m. I woke up to the most delicious smell. And then I panicked! How long had the turkey been in the oven. Way longer than it was supposed to be. I was sure I was going to have a dried out bird.

I raced downstairs to find my turkey monitor sound asleep on the couch. Harumph! I sent him up to bed and peeked into the oven. Unbelievably, the turkey was perfect! So I set about peeling and boiling white and sweet potatoes. Mashing and stirring and seasoning to perfection. I cut shortening into flour for pie crusts and peeled apples and mixed pumpkin mush into pie filling. Sweet potato casserole and mashed potatoes complete, pies baking and filling the house with even better smells and it was only 4:00 a.m.

So I started cleaning up after myself.

Stored the “leftovers” in the fridge, washed up the dishes and went to wipe down the counters. That’s when I noticed the gunk around the edge of the sink. So I scrubbed and I pulled out an old toothbrush and I scrubbed some more. And then I worked on the faucet and the backsplash and then OH MY GOD HAVE YOU SEEN THE STOVE! The burners were filthy. I dug under the sink for the SOS pad and got to work. Fantastik and 409. SOS and a toothbrush.

Oh how that kitchen shined!

Pies were done, and I noticed I was getting a little tired. It was 6:00 a.m. Thanksgiving morning. We didn’t have to be at my sister-in-laws until the afternoon, so I thought I might put my head down for a few minutes.

When I woke three hours later, I came downstairs to find a husband staring at me in disbelief.

And all I could say was, “I needed to have my mother’s stuffing.”

Turns out, it’s my mother-in-law’s stuffing too.

I’m laying with Mr. 5 tonight trying to get him to fall asleep. We’re chatting about our day, and so goes the conversation.

Me: What one thing do you think you’re going to ask Santa for Christmas?
Mr. 5: I don’t know. Maybe a car. You know a big one.
Me: The kind with a remote or one you push with your hands?
Mr. 5: The kind that goes on it’s own. You know.
Me: ??
Mr. 5: Like the kind our friend has, that you can ride in.
Me: Oh does she drive it?
Mr. 5: Not anymore it broke.
Me: We don’t have room for one of those.

Changing the subject…

Me: You know there are some kids who don’t get gifts from their parents on Christmas?
Mr. 5: Why?
Me: Their parents don’t have money to buy them.
Mr. 5: holds up his hands and begins spreading some of his fingers apart
Me: I was thinking we might buy some presents for those kids, you know so they can have presents too on Christmas.
Mr. 5: nodding to his hands Do these look like chameleon hands to you?
Me: Were you even listening to me? I’m trying to talk to you about something.
Mr. 5: Yeah, yeah. Kids don’t get Christmas presents.
Me: Yes. I think we should buy presents for them.
Mr. 5: I heard you, but now it’s time for me to talk. Don’t you think these look like chameleon hands?

Trying another approach…

Me: What do you think we should get Daddy for Christmas?
Mr. 5: I don’t know.
Me: What do you think he’d like?
Mr. 5: Something boring. You guys always get boring presents.
Mr. 5: Can you make chameleon hands?

I tried…

It would means they actaully need to GO to sleep!

The Bunny’s getting tired, and she still has baskets to fill!

Got to get to bed early so I have enough energy to meet the early morning sugar high.

Woohoo! Easter candy.

Help me!!!!!