I am a bad, bad mom...

Yesterday, I walked out to my car, keys in my right hand, SLIPPED next to my car, and was unable to catch myself because I refused to use the hand holding the keys to catch myself (on my newish car). Can you imagine putting a key line on your own car? Too horrible to contemplate. I fell instead. Better to sacrifice my knees. And, OH, were they sacrificed. VERY painful. But, Matt (my 8-year-old) was with me, so I sucked it up and laughed it off instead of boo hooing and wallowing headfirst in the snow, like I wanted to.

Today, I walked out to the car again with both my sons. I made sure the boys were getting in the back seat (so I thought) and walked around to the driver's side. My neighbor was wobbling around in the snow around HER car and barely caught herself before she fell. We caught each other's eyes and laughed and shared falling stories.

MEANWHILE...

I heard a tiny voice say, "Mom, lock the door."

"What? Who said that?"

The voice again, "MOM, lock the door!"

(I catch on slowly.) "THOMAS? Is that YOU? WHERE ARE YOU?" Seriously, I realized I couldn't see him anywhere. He's 12 and was wearing a florescent hat, very easy to spot.

Matt chimes in, "Mom, he FELL."

"WHAT?"

The poor boy was huddled practically under the car because he slipped trying to open the front passenger door, WHILE I WAS LAUGHING WITH MY NEIGHBOR ABOUT FALLING STORIES.

Yeah. I felt terrible. He just wanted me to lock the door so he could use the handle as leverage to get up. That's right. He didn't want me to come over and help him. All I had to do was lock the door. Oh yeah. AND NOTICE HE WAS ON THE GROUND.

I am a bad, bad mom.

Just pile it on, Dull Gray Day, pile it on!

So, it is a GORGEOUS slate gray day today. Really stunning. A PERFECT day for cleaning.

(Hear the sarcasm?)

Almost made me stay in bed this morning, actually.

But, it was sooo worth getting up. Really.

I've cleaned the trash can, inside and out.

I've cleaned a mess left by my sick cat, the likes of which I hope to never see again.

I've cleaned mouse poo off of treasures accidently left in the garage when we moved. (Treasures which will now be wrapped in plastic b/c I still can't stand to touch them. Ick. Worth my time? Well, yeah. Treasures.)

(Are you thinking maybe the sick cat should spend some time in the garage?)

I've cleaned up the water in front of my dying washer.

(I ate 2 peppermint patties for moral support.)

I've scrubbed carpets in 3 rooms.

I've cleaned up collie fur from places I didn't know collie fur could congregate.

(Mental note: Shave the collies.)

I'm pooped, although I hesitate to use that word after the day I've had!

Someone help me!

A Tale of Woe... of Snow and Amazon and Cheese

14 snowy days in a row... 3 snowbound kids... uh-oh!

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But an Amazon box, filled with books for the tots.

Thank you, Mr. Mailman and Amazon, for saving the day! It was AWESOME! I could already hear the peace! And quiet! (A sound that quite possibly, after 14 days, felt better than having a entire bag of Dove chocolates all to myself. Possibly. Let's not get crazy.) ;)

So, in the excitement of delving into the Amazon box and parceling out treasure, I forgot about lunch. Cooking. On the stove.

Sniff. Sniff, SNIFF!

Would that be BURNING grilled cheese sandwiches? Tomato soup boiling over?

No problem. I can scrape off char.

In the process of scraping, bubbling cheese oozed out and severely burned my hand.

In my anxiety (and blinding pain) to get the sandwich on a plate and off my hand, I pushed a different sandwich onto the floor.

I was left holding the burning hot UNscraped sandwich while the scraped and ready-to-serve sandwich plopped on the floor.

Now you know why my golden retriever loves me. And why my family asks if dinner is done when the smoke alarm goes off. ;)

And why we better have school tomorrow. ;)

What they forget between third grade and age 45...

My daughter's Valentine's Days have been ruined forever.

They've been ruined since the third grade. It was a boy's fault, of course. We'll call him Dan.

Dan had been sweet on my dear daughter since kindergarten. I thought it was cute. Then came third grade.

Valentine's Day that year came in the midst of a snow storm. School was cancelled. No one was going out. Evening came along and we heard a large truck pull up out front. A snow-covered youngun' stood on our stoop absolutely laden with gifts to delight his beloved. It was ADORABLE. He had a large card (2 feet tall, at least, that he made himself), a huge stuffed bear, and FLOWERS.

HOLY COW!

How can any guy she dates ever compete with that? You should have seen my own husband's face fall! HA! Oh, I soooo enjoyed the entire thing. Rob considers Valentine's Day to be a Hallmark holiday and therefore to be ignored (lest you become a sheep, forced to follow the flock of Valentine's Day followers over a cliff of chocolate despair).

For the record, to me, Valentine's Day should really be about thoughtfulness and reminding the ones you love that you care deeply about them. So, it's not really about flowers, or chocolates, or cards, but about showing you care. Sorry, Hallmark, but we don't really need to buy stuff to show that. What we really need is a sweet third grader reminding us that sometimes you just need to make an effort, trudge through a bit of snow, make sure your sweetie feels loved. :)

I'm a .... ???

Happy Valentine's Day!



Love this song!