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    Friday, February 27, 2009


    Do NOT tell the Beach patrol (OR, leave me alone while I am deluding myself and pretending none of this is happening...)

    Taco Bell, incoming. It will NOT - repeat, NOT - be salad. There will be cheese sauce. There will be rice, and not brown. There will be white flour tortillas, and perfectly seasoned non-low-fat ground beef. It will be good.

    ETA: as soon as Greg gets here with it.

    In short, I feel a rip tide pulling me off the beach temporarily, and it smells like a cheesy double beef burrito. I'll float my way back up on the beach soon. I promise.

    Tuesday, February 24, 2009

    I Smell an "Outstanding Commerical" Emmy

    Funniest. Commercial. E.V.E.R.

    Oh, whatever. It's TOTALLY funny and you know it. Go ahead, say "Your son RIP is on line TOOT," and keep a straight face. I dare you.

    Oh, Kate Gosselin...

    Oh, honey. Whatcha thinkin', girl? Seriously?

    Look. God bless you for your desire to be such an awesome mom - and you are. And I get your motivation. I'm all about enriching your kids' lives, giving them something to care for, from which to learn about responsibility, empathy, the whole life process, all of it. Good stuff, and bless your heart, you're doing it with EIGHT sweet, beautiful, wonderful, funny kids.

    But still. You got two?

    TWO of them? Two dogs. Really.

    I know what you're thinking. You're thinking "But Cathy, don't YOU have two dogs?"

    Why yes - yes I do, Kate. Two dogs who are great with kids, really great with my kids, and who have grown to be as much a part of our family as any one of us. Truly.

    But here's the thing.

    My dogs were here before the kids. Before. Be-fore. Their time with us in the years before our two kids came along bonded us with them, gave us time and space in our hearts to love them, memories to which to cling, reasons why they have a place in our home and our family unit for as long as they are on this planet.

    My faithful readers can tell you, some of them, what happened when our first baby came home. The dogs, frankly, got booted RIGHT down the family ladder to the bottom rung. Sad, but true. Now, we still love them, we still care for them, we still do our best to meet their needs and make them feel loved. We do those things partly because we promised them we would when we adopted them. But there's another part. That whole aforementioned "before we had kids" time sort of bought them their life here with us.

    If I brought in new dogs, as you've done? Now? New dogs, with whom I have no history, no love found, no bond - new dogs with new slobber, and pee accidents, poop accidents, and muddy paw prints, and rabies shots, and yearly shots, and heart worm tests, and heart worm pills, and $250/dog teeth cleanings, and licensing fees, and anal gland expressions (and the butt-dragging on carpet that precedes that process), and nail clippings, and baths, and wet stinky fur after baths, dog food messes, and trash cans that must be hidden or elevated, and chewed up Barbie heads, and chewed up toy trucks, and barking, and barking, and barking, and barking, and doghairdoghairdoghairdoghairdoghairdoghairdoghairdoghairdoghairdoghairdogdoghairdoghairdoghairdoghairdoghairdoghairdoghairdoghairdoghairdoghairdoghair?

    New dogs? Those dogs wouldn't last a WEEK. Or I wouldn't. I'm not sure which.

    And I have TWO kids, dear Kate. Just TWO. One, two. That's it. One Collin and one Hannah (OK, mine are Jackson and Samantha, but you get the idea), and there is NO WAY I could put up with my (good, full-grown, guaranteed-great-with-kids) dogs' unavoidable indogsanity and unstoppable dogtastrophes for ANY length of time if they walked in here post-kids.

    Don't you have any friends with dogs? Didn't they give you the raised eyebrow at your suggestion that you'd be adding fur-babies to the mix? Didn't they? Because if they didn't, then maybe you need me to be your friend. (I would SO love to be your friend, you and I would be like peas and carrots, I'm telling you. But that's another blog.) Because I would have SO given you the eyebrow, along with a kind, quiet and yet slightly persistent response that was somewhere along these lines: "You sure you wanna do that, honey? Cuz' you know you have EIGHT kids in here, right? Oh, and you have NO big love for dogs - remember that 'I could go my entire life without having dogs' thing, Kate? Yeah, you should maybe rethink that whole dogs idea for just a sec or two, and here's why..."

    But here we are, anyway. Here with Jon and Kate Plus Eight Plus Two More Who Will Poop All Over Everything You Own And Eat Whatever They Don't Poop On. Oh, Kate, I wish I could have warned you.


    Now that I think about it, you have already proven yourself to be a stronger woman and cooler mom than I would ever be in your situation. Dead serious - no sarcasm of any kind in that.

    So, now that I think about it more, I am pretty sure you just might pull it off. You might get these dogs integrated into the family and find a way to put up with all of the yucky dog stuff, and manage to NOT throw them in the river and drown them for being the stinky, dirty, expensive, noisy, destructive little buggars that nearly all dogs are.

    And you can bet I'll be watching and rooting for you every second. And they really are adorable. But they aren't pooping on my rugs in my new house, so you know, I've got a slightly different perspective. Plus the adorable-ness is to keep you from drowning them when they poop all over creation, see? So between your awesomeness, Jon's awesomeness, and their cuteness which does create, in effect, an anti-murder forcefield, it will probably all work out OK.

    Hang in there. And watch out for the sniper-pooping and the food stealing, those will drive you over the edge the fastest.

    Monday, February 23, 2009

    Can I just say... incredibly lousy I feel today? Nauseous, sleepy, grumpy, like I just want to go bed for a week.

    Apparently the stomach flu is creeping up on me.

    And it had BETTER be the stomach flu. That is all for now.

    How's THAT for interesting content.


    UPDATE: Seemingly it is some sort of bug. Some sort of bug that not only makes me feel like crapy, but also makes my period four days late. I know this because my happy little Clearblue Easy Digital Pregnancy Test told me I am, and I quote, "Not Pregnant" this very afternoon. I believe it, because in my only two pregnancies, the sticks on which I peed were practically jumping up in the air screaming "You're KNOCKED UP, lady, you're KNOCKED UP!!!" before I even got the cap back on. (That is a slight exaggeration. But only slight.)

    SO, after a morning of slight trepidation regarding the aforementioned symptoms which seem to be, and yet are not, pregnancy symptoms, I am now relaxed and unconcerned. Why? Because my friend Mrs R has reminded me that I will now GET said period simply because I took the test. It's that old addage, you know - sometimes you have to pee on a $6.00 stick to get your period. Or whatever.

    Saturday, February 21, 2009

    He's Like a Personal Secretary

    Except he doesn't like to type. Or talk on the phone. Or use the computer. Or file.

    But he's a reminder genius, I swear. He said to me tonight "You haven't blogged in, uh, FOREVER, dear."

    And he's right, by gum. So sorry I've been away. I've been suffering some major writer's block every time I sit down to blog, despite having random bloggish thoughts in my head at various stages of the day.

    Girl date went great, by the way - we had a good time, and hope to do it again soon. Mommies don't treat ourselves often enough.



    And there it is. Writer's block again. I have one in my head about the asshats I am forced to share the streets with every day on the way to and from preschool, but it's not coming together yet. Also the latest antics from my kids, but I can't remember the things I wanted to write about just now.

    Random thoughts:

    My ex-h is now on Facebook, and is friends of some mutual friends. That's closer than I ever wanted to be to him again. In my LIFE.

    Greg and I are starting the Dave Ramsey book this weekend. We are excited about the possibilities and will keep you posted.

    I am on the Beach, overall, and holding steady, but not losing much. Need to go back to P1 and clean out my system, as the bad carbs creep in all too easily and become to plentiful.

    I am caught up on laundry, nearly completely all the way. Miracle of miracles.

    TGPM02009 is not progressing well as of now. I have rearranged the boxes in my office several times and thought about starting on the filing, but that remains the extent of its progress. For now. But the time is coming.

    I just checked the hampers. I am now behind on laundry again.

    Greg's overtime is now cut entirely at work until pete-knows-when, and he may not even have 40 hours this week. Stay tuned for Cathy's Possible Fabulous Night Job cleaning offices or whatnot. Which is all well and good - all perfectly honest labor, but not how I'd really like to spend my evenings. We'll see if Dave Ramsey has a better plan.

    I am peckish and thinking about an apple with peanut butter. Except Greg accidentally bought fat-free PB, which has way more sugar and a funny consistency.

    I promise (no, really) to come up with some interesting content soon. I'm working on it, I swear. Aimee's birthday is coming up and I suspect that will be a difficult time for me, frought with all sorts of feelings I don't care to revisit but will have no choice but to do just that. Surely I will blog about that, because I choose to believe she can see what I write and it helps me move through those feelings.

    That apple is calling to me. But I promise to come back in less than two weeks this time. And with good stuff, too. So stick around, OK? Thanks.

    Tuesday, February 10, 2009

    Girl Date

    Momma's goin' OUT tonight! Two new great friends from Samantha's preschool, Mrs R and Mrs H, and I are all SAHMs, and we all work hard, and we all love our kids and our husbands. We also almost NEVER just go be C, S, and B; it's just not where we are right now in our lives, and that's OK.

    But tonight, just for a few hours, we will go and do just that. Go be just three pretty girls, eating yummy food, drinking some yummy drinks, and just visit, and laugh and enjoy each other's company. We'll sit, and we'll NOT do some specific things:

    not cut anyone else's food
    not ask for a booster or high chair
    not care if people are swearing at the next table
    not ask for a kids' menu
    not think of ways to keep toddlers occupied until the food comes
    not pick up napkins off the floor nine times
    NOT worry about what the kids and daddies are doing at home - they'll be fine (reminder to self)

    I wouldn't want to be away from my family every night, but tonight I am looking forward to some girl time with two awesome women, and we all deserve this fun night out! Cheers!

    Tuesday, February 3, 2009

    To Hubby

    Not my hubby, in this case. My good friend Deb's Hubby, who is truly one of my favorite men on the planet. So this is coming from a place of love (and giggling behind my hand).

    I have to ask for a favor, Hubby, and I hope you can do this one little tiny thing.

    Please stop packing fruit away in the nooks and crannies of various types of luggage and bags. Now she's having to explain petrified bananas to the folks at daycare.

    And don't deny it, either. I've got the link to the pics you took that came out of the same bag from Maui. Don't make me post it.

    That is all. Smooches.

    That's It

    I warned you, Punxsutawney Phil. Didn't I?

    Allll these readers are my witnesses. You were warned.

    So as soon as I have a few days with nothing to do...and money...and a good long hard icicle...well, and a cooler long enough to transport it while I drive cross-country...and a sitter for days on end...well, then I'll be coming for you.

    You big fat hairy jerk.