Day 13
Mood: Panic

Is it because it’s the unlucky 13th day of this little experiment? Is that why I’m staring at the screen with nothing to write? Panic is beginning to set in. I read a number of entertaining blogs on a daily basis and I always come away from the experience feeling a little less worthy of this blog, but nothing? I never have nothing to say…ask my parents, they’ll tell you.

There’s just a lot going on this week. I just wrote a whole paragraph about it, but it seemed so stupid that I had to erase it. Basically, I’m at a loss. I was hoping to have my highschool prom picture scanned into the computer for just this such instance, but alas our scanner isn’t cooperating. So I guess I’ll have to leave you with this gem.

Taken through my windshield while driving in Arlington, VA. Oh, how I miss my camera phone!

Day 12
Mood: a little stressed

Day 11
Mood: Asleep

It’s day 11, it’s 11:52 p.m. and Shakey was just about to let me continue to sleep.

It’s NaBloPoMo!

I closed my eyes on the couch for just a minute (at 9:15 p.m.).

Two days with less than stellar posts…I’ll make it up to you.

Day 10
Mood: Tired

I’ve decided that once I’m done with this whole raising kids thing I’ll be all set to work as a personal assistant to the stars–the bigger the diva the better.

At 3:10 a.m. this morning I was ripped from my slumber by the sound of Mr. 2 and Shakey having a conversation about the need for apple juice. Then, for some reason beyond my comprehension, Shakey yelled to me (laying in the bed next to him mind you) that I had to get juice for Mr. 2. My first thought was that something must be wrong with Shakey as he was obviously awake since he was having this conversation about midnight snacks with Mr. 2. However, I soon realized that that was not the case and that I was expected to get up to and serve my two year-old–post-haste.

Mr. 2 got right in my face and demanded not only apple juice but Goldfish as well. I grumbled okay and then waited for a moment. My brilliant thought here was that if I took my time maybe he’d forget and fall asleep. A few moments of quiet passed and then, “I need apple juice and goldfish and cheese!” He was not going to fall asleep.

So I stumbled downstairs, somehow found all three requested items and made my way back up to my bedroom where Shakey slept and Mr. 2 reclined on my pillow anxiously awaiting his fare. After a few bites of cheese, I was handed the rest of the cheesestick and told to hold it while he drank some juice. I ate it. Luckily for me he had lost interest in the cheese and had moved on to the bowl of Goldfish. Sure enough he ate that whole bowl of the little swimmers and sucked down all the juice.

I say who needs the discarded goodies from the Grammy bag when I can get my own half eaten cheesestick right here.

And with seven minutes to spare…

Day 9

Day 8
Mood: Freaking Ecstatic!

In case you haven’t heard, there was an election yesterday. The people of my country–the very same people I had begun to suspect may indeed be zombies–finally said “we’ve had enough!”

I have spent the last 12 years feeling like an outsider, out of step with my fellow citizens, but today I have a renewed sense of optimism about the American electorate–about We, the People. However, before God Bless America begins blare from your speakers I need to get some stuff out of my system.

Neh, neh, neh, neh, neh, neh. WE FUCKING WON!!!!!

And it was so bad, so terribly, horribly, ferociously bad that you had to sacrifice one of your own this afternoon! Not that we’re surprised that you’d be willing to leave a man behind. What has come to light in the last year or so with DeLay and Ney and Cunningham and Macaca and your lie last week about keeping Rumy on board reaffirmed everything I knew to be true about you–you are not nice people. You have been hoarding power for your own gain. You do not love your country! And damn you, you suggested that because I didn’t agree with your war or your suspension of civil rights that I was the unpatriotic one. Well fuck you! You were wrong! And I’m starting to suspect you might be getting the hint. You know what that makes me say?

YEEEEHAAAAA!!!!!! I’m doing my happy dance all over your goddammed yard signs!!!

Phew! That felt good!

I wanted to come home to celebrate with a glass of champagne, but I was too damned superstitious to put a bottle in the fridge. As an alternative and in honor of the cleaning up of Congress, I got a bikini wax instead. I seriously think I was so deliriously happy that it hurt less than normal. So now you know, we’re all neat up here in DC.

Just in case that didn’t make you feel better, I leave you with some of the funnier election-related brilliance that crossed my screen today.

From the prego mom of two D’s to be I received:

George Bush goes to a primary school to talk to the kids to get a Little PR. After his talk he offers question time. One little boy puts up his hand and George asks him his name. “Stanley,” responds the little boy. “And what is your question, Stanley?” “I have four questions:

First, why did the USA invade Iraq without the support of the UN?

Second, why are you President when Al Gore got more votes?

Third, whatever happened to Osama Bin Laden?

Fourth, why are we so worried about gay-marriage when half of all Americans don’t have health insurance?”

Just then, the bell rings for recess. George Bush informs the kiddies that they will continue after recess. When they resume George says, “OK, where were we? Oh, that’s right, question time. Who has a question?”Another little boy puts up his hand. George points him out and asks him his name. “Steve,” he responds. “And what is your question, Steve?”

“Actually, I have six questions.

First, why did the USA invade Iraq without the support of the UN?

Second, why are you President when Al Gore got more votes?

Third, whatever happened to Osama Bin Laden?

Fourth, why are we so worried about gay marriage when half of all Americans don’t have health insurance?

Fifth, why did the recess bell go off 20 minutes early?

And sixth, what the hell happened to Stanley?”

The always lovely Jay–studying his little tooshie off in GA–sent us this gem (trust me it’s worth the click).

And finally, our friend the former Minnehaha Mama, Jill provided us with this post this morning.

We’ve won the House for sure, the Senate is soon to follow and Rumsfeld is out. It’s like Christmas in November!

Day 7
Mood: Worried

Day 6
Mood: Excited

Last night I got down on my hands and knees at 1:00 a.m. in the morning and rooted through my crawl space for an item I wasn’t even sure was there. The object of my search? A yearbook. I obviously hadn’t thought about this yearbook in quite some time since I wasn’t even sure it was in my possession; though after every move my parents make I seem to end up with more boxes of my shit, so the odds were pretty good (thank god my mother-in-law has never moved).

Not finding me in my usual blog surfing spot, and not remembering a kiss goodnight, Shakey sensed a scavenger hunt was afoot. I could hear him wandering around the house calling for me but for some reason sound doesn’t travel up through the first floor. After eventually finding the door opened he peaked in asked if I was in there. Hearing a yes he walked away and went to bed. Shakey’s learned over the years that when I get on the type of quest that leads me to a location like the crawl space at 1:00 a.m. it’s probably just best to get out of the way.

After doing a marine crawl under two cross beams and scooting ten feet on my ass, I came upon the boxes I thought might contain my quarry. But first, I found old pictures from the first years after college. Had to stop and go through those of course. Then I found the boxes containing memorabilia from the wedding–skipped those too recent. Pulling away more dusty shoeboxes full of receipts, {cue heraldic trumpets} there I found the box I sought. Yearbooks from 1985, 1986 and 1987!

For those of you who choose not to remember those days, let me remind you of some of the hightlights:

• neon clothing
• tight-rolled acid washed jeans (pegged)
• leggings (oh wait that’s today too–gasp!)
• BIG hair (Aquanet Super Extra Hold was my personal glue)
• the space shuttle Columbia accident; and
• the overuse of the word “rad”

I’ve recently gotten back in touch with a friend from highschool that I had chalked up to lost. He’s one of those people you took for granted as a constant figure in your life and then one day you realized you had gone in different directions and you didn’t know how to get in touch. Thanks to the ridiculous spam of Classmates.com we actually reconnected and have been catching up on lost time. Of course, all sorts of names I hadn’t thought about in years have been tossed around and so I just had to find a yearbook to look these folks up.

Only 20 years have passed and I can’t get over how many of my “great friend’s” yearbook messages I can’t even associate with a face or last name! But man have I had a good time reading through all of the signatures and laughing at all of the hair styles. And I found the people I was looking for. It’s just so hard to imagine some of them “grown up.”

Day 5
Mood: Rested and Ready

Okay, last week we started Merit Badge Day here at Mamma Loves… Every Sunday we invite readers to share with us the merit badge they earned this week.

PFunky had some techinical difficulties, so here is her’s and the others reported in last week.

Firetruck Voodoo Merit Badge: Won for getting my 2
1/2 year old son to take medicine for a very runny nose (that sent him home from nursery school) by telling him that the firemen take their medicine so they can ride the firetrucks. Since firetrucks are my son’s favorite things on the entire earth, it did the trick. In fact, I can get him to do many things as long as we talk about firetrucks along the way…

Oh, The Joys earned one for not getting malaria in Africa

and

One Weird Mother takes home the Bags Under My Eyes Badge. DST=toddler convinced that we should all get up for the day at 3am.

This week Mamma awards herself the Restraint in the Face of Temptation badge. Now this has nothing to do with keeping my hands out of the candy bowl or the kids bags on Halloween (or the day after, or the day after that)–though my jeans would fit much better if I had–but for not laughing directly AT my client who is worried about the outcome of the elections.

While I haven’t yet pronounced my political affiliation directly on this blog, I do think it’s pretty obvious from past posts. The elections are only two days away, so why not do it now?

I’m a Democrat. I work in DC. My first job here was working for a women’s health organization. The elections of 1994 were a heartbreak for me and especially my friends who worked on Capitol Hill. We watched the town we owned change over night. The bars we patronized were in the diverse neighborhoods of Adams Morgan and the U Street corridor. But after ’94, the new kids in power went to martini bars and smoked cigars in Georgetown {she says with a sneer}. It was sad.

ANYWAY, when my client–formerly a fundraiser for the Republican party–literally moped to me this week that the elections were going to be SOOOO bad, it took every ounce of willpower I had not to blurt out nah, nah, nah, nah heh heh and laugh maniacally. I kindly mentioned that I had lived through ’94 and I was sure he’d do the same. I then hung up and did a little jig in my office–though not a long or involved jig because I’m far too cynical not to think the Dem’s can’t still screw it up.

Whew! Sorry for getting on a roll–that happens sometimes.

Now it’s your turn. Let us know what badge you earned this week. If you don’t brag about yourself, who will?

Day Four
Mood: Relaxed/Sore

I love spring flowers. I can almost smell the scent of suntan lotion as soon as the bulbs start peaking up through the dirt.

Now that I’m a homeowner (okay I’ve been a homeowner for a while but in comparison to the length of my life it hasn’t been that long) I feel the need to fill my gardens with daffodils, tulips and irises. And every year when they bloom I’m left with the feeling that I still haven’t planted quite enough. So today I made the trek to Costco to buy bulbs (at noon on a Saturday no less–what kind of masochist am I? Well, there are all the free samples).

At first I thought I may have waited too late to find them. But lo and behold there they were. Bags of 50 bulbs for $11.99 each! Score! I left with three.

Well it was all a great plan in my head until I realized that it meant I had to plant 150 bulbs (actually 180 since I already had a bag of 30 taunting me in the car port)! And for some reason, it never occured to me to do this math until I arrived home. Yeah, I never was a mathlete.

It’s November 4th as you know, so I don’t have a whole lot of time to get these “bolts” (as Mr. 4 calls them) planted. So out in the yard I went this afternoon armed with an “as seen on TV” bulb-hole drill bit lent to me by my neighbor and the desire to plant my bulbs.

The first 50 went in quickly–or so I thought–until I looked in the bag and realized that there were two packages in each bag. UGH! Of course with the “help” I received from Mr. 10 and Mr. 4 the job went even more quickly–yeah right.

I finally convinced Mr. 10 that I was not going to let him use the drill–like I’m sharing the power tools–and Mr. 4 departed soon after I took back control of the shovel, so the process sped up a bit. But I didn’t beat the dark. One hundred in the ground…only 80 more to go.

So much for sleeping in tomorrow morning.

PS–In searching for the image a daffodils I wanted to include on this post I realize that 180 aren’t nearly going to be enough. If I could just remember from one year to the next where I planted them.