Friday, December 30, 2011

Gimme Some Resolution

Morning Readers,
     Well, here we are at the end of another year. Almost three-hundred-sixty-five days behind us, and, in my case, prospectively bigger pants in front. Some of you are probably wondering what type of resolutions I've made for 2012. I'll let you see the rough draft I've been working on:

(As organized by me, at this moment in time, not withstanding any changes that may occur due to laziness, sickness, marmot attacks)

- Quit smoking period as much as last year, but not so much so as to totally quit, but enough to say, casually, at parties, "I do, yes..but only every once in a while...every other Saturday, when it's my Sunday off."

Thursday, December 29, 2011

The Cowboy Gets A Haircut

"What do you think you're doin' with those clippers, Partner?"
Morning Readers,

     Before we get started, a brief word from our sponsors....     

Today's post is brought to you by Nog. Late night? Fell asleep way too early and now up staring at the unplugged Christmas tree? Grab some Nog. Its cool, creamy, not-quite-sure-whats-all-in-there consistency will have you slamming your mug on the floor, screaming, "Someone get me more Nog!" and "I swear these pants fit, yesterday. Assistant, find me the number of the pant store."

Nog.... Because no one's quite sure what's in there. Have you Nogged today?

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Racked With Jealousy...

Morning Readers,

     Yesterday afternoon, Husband and I got together and proclaimed our joint "crazy level" to be a ten. We even doodled little, ink hearts on the insides of our wrists. "P+H= Crazy Forever, Can't be at tamed, etc, etc". The ink hadn't dried by the time we decided to venture to the mall...on the day after Christmas....because, again...we lost our sanity somewhere between "I do" and "It's a boy and a girl" and "Here's your mortgage payment" and "All this time he thought Paige was short for Penelope." One of the busiest shopping days of the year, yesterday caused me anxiety for all the wrong reasons. I thought it'd be difficult due mass migration of those looking for Mrs. Field's Cookies...what I got was another affirmation as to why mothers can't dress like the rest of society...

Monday, December 26, 2011

Christmas In Review

Morning Readers,
     I hope all of you had a wonderful Christmas. We're still trying to shake ourselves into consciousness, over here. Presents have been put away, coffee introduced intravenously, and I've sneaked away so I can post this weekend's reviews. It had been a silent Christmas wish of mine that they'd be done by today, so you can imagine my delight when I saw them wrapped in dirty brown paper, sitting on my doorstep this morning. I'm fairly please with what people are saying. I'll let you read while I go melt some more chocolate to apply as a facial I can eat off...

Friday, December 23, 2011

Merry Christmas: My Secret Recipe For Oreo Balls

Afternoon Readers,

     As I prepare to embark on a whirlwind of a weekend, I thought I'd go ahead and give you your gift, a little bit early. It's not much, just a recipe I made yesterday. But you know how fabulous it is anytime I cook, so you'll want to grab a pen, paper and some Vicodin. It's most of my meals are, but if you need any tips on execution, feel free to inbox me. I'll be rocking back and forth under the tree...

Thursday, December 22, 2011

The Time Is Now 3:50 and Rising

Morning Readers,
     I'm starting to notice a disturbing trend in my day. Yesterday marked the thousandth time I've run by the oven, looked at the temperature, and assumed it was the time. "But Paige, that only happens in the movies...and maybe to people on meth", you say. I agree..and maybe you're right...not about the meth...unless snorting Oreos is somehow frowned upon.. but, nonetheless, I jogged by the appliance, glanced at the digital clock, and proclaimed to the dishtowel it was now, "3:50, and time to go get the mail." But the mailbox was empty, and I was left confused. The enchiladas were done, though...

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Kate Middleton's Sizzle Vs. My Fizzle

Morning Readers,
     Amidst the rush that is getting ready for Christmas, it occurred to me I haven't a thing to wear to church on Christmas Eve. While perusing the internet and deciding between what I wore last year and what I could make out of my old drapes and left-over gift tags, I stumbled upon a picture with this caption, "Kate Middleton Sizzles in Strapless Gown At Military Event". I considered. Had I ever sizzled in anything before? And, if not, was it worth getting worked up over a new outfit if I was, in fact, not going to sizzle, or even sputter, for that matter? Without a moment to lose, I sent a mass email to friends, family and acquaintances, polling everyone on my sizzle...

Monday, December 19, 2011

Pick Your Battles

Morning Readers,

     From what I gathered off the evening news,Sunday, people look forward to the weekend. This confused me, until I did some research and found out those same people are single with no children. Apparently, they hang out with each other, drinking, laughing, ankles free of little hands trying to pin their feet together so they trip into the refrigerator and knock off the eight Christmas cards being held to the surface by one, solitary turkey-shaped magnet. I however, don't look forward to the weekend. Not only is my Saturday the identical twin of my Monday, I'm required to teach battle tactics to Husband...

Friday, December 16, 2011

Fanmail Friday and A Giveaway Winner

Afternoon Readers,
    Today, I'd like to start by congratulating Melynda on winning the 20.00 gift card to iTunes -picked by the chubby hand of the lovely Sundance, herself. I'm sorry it wasn't a six-hundred-dollar couch from Pottery Barn, but these things do happen. If you guys haven't checked out her fantastic blog, please pop on over for a visit. Now then, the next order of business is digging into the mail bag, and seeing what questions you all have been sending me, via search engine. My answers may be a bit shorter than usual because I'm making scampi, and only have an hour to go catch the shrimp (made all the more complicated by living in the Midwest) and churn the butter....

Thursday, December 15, 2011

Reginald Mixes It Up

Morning Readers,
     I have a special affection for all my household goods: the broom's dusty smile, the refrigerator's happy outlook on life, the catch-all spirit of the trashcan. But, it's the unused items in my home that hold a special place in my heart. Today, I'm going to introduce you to a member of my kitchen, an item that's been on my counter so long without use, I wouldn't be able to find the cabinets if it weren't for his steadfast gleam acting as beacon to the plates and cutlery. ( To my Mother-in-law: If you're reading, you may want to stop and I'll tell you a different version later.) I'm pleased to introduce my Kitchen Aid mixer...Reginald.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Dear Santa ...and A Giveaway

Morning Readers,

     You've caught me at a good time. I've just finished drafting my letter to Santa. What, I'm too old? Nonsense. If I've ever needed charity from a an overweight guy in a plush suit, this is the year. You guys should all be nodding in unison. Ok, look it over and let me know if I've missed anything; I've got to get this in the mail sometime yesterday:

A Letter to Santa
December 13, 2012

Dear Santa,

Monday, December 12, 2011

Bean There, Done That

Morning Readers,

     Over the weekend, between changing diapers and banging my head against the wall, chance delivered me an interesting blurb on TV. The woman on the box looked so sad, it was all I could do to stop and listen. Using my forehead to turn up the volume, I jumped in in time to catch the reporter grill the poor dear. "So, you say you haven't had coffee in eighteen months?" She replied in the affirmative, pointed to her children and broke down sobbing. I patted the screen. Poor Rookie.

Thursday, December 8, 2011

Where the Red Fern Groans: The Origin of Flea

Morning Readers,

     Who wants to hear a story about why I hate my dog? Of course you do, mostly because it's the only way to tell whether I've killed him or not. I really should start keeping a little update on the side of the blog. It'd look something like this:

Today Flea is: Dead...:(  Alive ...:)
copywrite paigekellerman blah blah blah

I'll let you be the judge...

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Well, Deck My Halls

Morning Readers,
     Yesterday morning, I started hyperventilating. Don't worry, it's only a seasonal problem. I'd finally flipped the calendar from November to December, and couldn't help noticing the proximity of Christmas to where I was standing. The funny thing about children is they grow, and this year, they're just competent enough to start making memories of the way I used to never do fun holiday activities with them. Years from now, they won't go to college because of this, and call every Christmas to remind me how they never turned their hand print into a reindeer. It's a vicious circle. Terribly complex. Anyhow, determined we do something, I decided to hop on the old internets and find a simple craft to get us in the spirit...

..the spirit of what, I'm still deciding.

Monday, December 5, 2011

Bottoming Out

Morning Readers,

     I make it somewhat of a priority to never look at my rear. The few times I have, since the babies, it's taken eight weeks of being in a coma, three session of hypnotherapy and a five-thousand-dollar medical bill to put my mind at ease again. But, Friday (not "Butt Friday"), I decided to take a gander. My hair, looking like it'd just hosted a cock fight, gave me hope that, whatever I found back there, had a great chance of lifting my spirits, or, at the very least, would keep me running in neutral long enough to make it to fill out my application for America's Next Top Model. Turns out, I should be more frightened by the state of my pants than the quality of my caboose...

Friday, December 2, 2011

Fanmail Friday: Someone Please Feed Me

Morning Readers,
     My goodness, we have a lot to do today. I couldn't sleep last night for fear your burning questions and unanswered thoughts would stalk me like nimble wolves and eat me in my sleep. I heard the search engines cranking and the incomplete sentences being fired in my direction. I breathed in Husband's ear. "How can I find rest when my Readers are out there Googling things that make no sense and somehow ending up on my blog?" He told me to release his shirt collar and go to sleep, but I'm here to say, let's get to work...

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Newspaper Day

Morning Readers,

     Yesterday was a big day - bigger than the time I switched to tummy panels in all my pants and jogged up and down the street singing the Hallelujah chorus and squeezing stray squirrels - because, as many of you know, I got my first humor column published in the newspaper. Feel free to pop on over and read it here. I'll wait... To say I was excited may be an understatement, but I have to pick an emotion, and that one seems the least aggressive. The only downside is, in all that excitement, I became a little forgetful, which is why I'm so glad my mom showed up...

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Captain My Captain

Morning Readers,

     And now, another night in the Kellerman household, another ancient battle in the struggle for power....

     Husband and I had just retired to the couch, when he considerately handed me a pillow. I grabbed it and settled in. "Thanks."

     He hugged me. "I'm always here for the assist."

     "Well, thanks again co-pilot."


     I shrugged. "Yeah, you know, because you're the sidekick. Now hush, I finally have nothing to do, and I'm going to do it before it goes away."

Monday, November 28, 2011

As I Lay Dying: And Other Inconvenient Things

Morning Readers,

     As some of you may have noticed, I didn't post on Friday. Through the magical gift of airborne illness, I was presented with a vicious stomach flu late Thursday night. I just want to clear up what the rest of the neighborhood may have mistaken as Gary Busey wandering through my house at three a.m, shouting, "Make it stop, brother." Unable to leave my bed, Friday, I clung dearly to life, while Husband bravely held down the fort. And he did an excellent job...which is good because I was having a rough time...

     At about nine a.m., Husband peeked in. "How're you feeling?"

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Gone Eating

 Morning Readers,

     Today I'm throwing on some spandex and getting ready for the festivities to ensue. Am I cooking? No. Am I in charge of the wine? I would be if I hadn't drank it already....kidding... sort of. To all my Readers, a happy Thanksgiving from all of us here at There's More Where That Came From. I'll see you all back here tomorrow. Same bat place. Same bat time...

Happy Thanksgiving!

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

The Shiner: A Black Eye Mystery

 Morning Readers,

     Several nights ago, I'd just finished eating candy and watching TV working really hard on my book, studying the dictionary, and making gift baskets for Hollywood ex-wives in need, when Husband came in to get ready for bed. As he laid out his GI Joe pajamas, I noticed his face - when you're used to looking at perfection, discrepancies stand out. I threw down all of my glitter pens and "You'll Make it, Kim" t-shirts. "Hold it right there. What happened to your face? You can't get me used to your god-like features and then just run your head into a wall."

     He laughed. "What are you talking about?"

Monday, November 21, 2011

You Scratch My Back....I'll Go Watch TV

Morning Readers,

     A few days ago, I felt the tension building in my shoulders. Usually, I just ignore it, but after I marched next door, pulled the neighbor's mailbox out of ground and threw it through their window, shouting, "Hulk smash neighborhood, without regard for personal property or insurance deductibles," I knew I had to do something. That night, I pointed to the knots in my shoulders and asked Husband if he'd help me out. He nodded. "Sure, but you have to rub my back, first." This doesn't sound so bad, if you don't know he's a dirty double-crosser...

     I stomped my foot. "I will not."


Friday, November 18, 2011

Some Additional Questions

Morning Readers,

     Some of you may remember, back in May, things were rough. Convinced I was dying, I sent a desperate fax to heaven, submitting my application for sainthood. I didn't hear anything back, so I assumed everything was on the up and up, and things upstairs had been more or less settled in my favor. I was surprised then, to receive a fax, early this morning, somewhat to the contrary. After brushing the feathers off, the message stated clearly I needed to explain a few things before my application would be processed.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

The Morning Rush

Morning Readers,

     Word on the street is you guys all wanted to know what I was doing yesterday morning. Don't  look at me, that's just what the street said. I can't blame you though. Complete strangers often stop me and demand I rate my mornings on a scale of awesome to bunions. I'll let you decide...

     7 am: The first attack comes by light of dawn. Busy making breakfast, I don't hear the creak of the highchairs as they slide into the kitchen. It isn't until I hear small feet running across the counter tops that I turn.

     "What are you doing?"

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

It's Not You, It's Me: A Breakup Letter To Oreos

My heart is broken and my pants don't I guess you could say I have broken pants as well.
 Morning Readers,

     I don't like hurting anyone's feelings, but there comes a time in every woman's life when she must put her foot down and say, "My pants don't button anymore. I need you to leave." For the past several weeks, I've enjoyed a fun-filled relationship with my old friend the Oreo. But, as good old Bobby Dylan always says, "The times, they are a-changin." Today, I write to my chocolate companion to gently let him know we will be going through a period of separation until I can get my zipper zipped, once more...

A Letter To Oreos
The sun was shining on the sea, Shining with all his might: He did his very best to make The billows smooth and bright-- And this was odd, because it was The middle of the night. - Lewis Carroll

Dear Oreos,

Monday, November 14, 2011

A Failure To Communicate

 Morning Readers,
     Lately, I've found myself at loss. Butch and Sundance are trying to communicate, and, because of this, I've had to turn to "Toddler Translations", the laminated companion to "The Toddler Guidebook", to get some insight into what the babies are trying to tell me. Here's just a few ways it's helped me out over the past few days. I've had to keep track via journal entries:

(excerpts from the journal of the oft-misunderstood and semi-attractive Paige Kellerman)

Friday, November 11, 2011

Fanmail Friday: More Unanswered Questions

Afternoon Readers,
     Last week I wrote a post attempting to answer all those questions you send me through your search engines. The positive response warmed my heart, and made me feel I'd done something for my fellow man besides forgetting to recycle everything besides my plastic bags. The only negative feedback I received was a lone message to my inbox:

Der Paige Kellerman,

It was so meen of yoo to right those things about me. Please stop telling everyone I can't rite good.


Kim K.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

I Mousse See You Right Away

Morning Readers,
     Although I've been remiss in not mentioning it on the blog, a few days ago, I got the news that a local paper will be running my first humor column later this month. Because of this, I now need a descent picture that won't seer my Readers faces off - My kind photographer friend called me, and kindly pointed out it wasn't standard practice to run a picture of a cat with a drawn-on mustache. After glancing at the unholy hamster brothel that is my hair, I decided it was time to call The Keeper of the Locks...

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

What Self-Control?

Morning Readers,

     Yesterday evening, I couldn't help but feel sorry for Husband. While he tried explaining the finer points of the football game, my eyes wandered.

     "So that's that."

     I looked up. "What? You can't train a gorilla to shoot a bow and arrow."


     "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

Monday, November 7, 2011

Toddler Guide Book: Page 153 - Love Hurts

Morning Readers,
     Today's post may be a little short due to exhaustion. I was up all night reading the Toddler Guidebook, a sticky thing with pages missing, I received from the hospital. Normally, I don't have to refer to it, but it's been rough going lately. Besides the usual fun activities like slapping the dog awake and trying to drink the contents of the pepper shaker, Butch has been trying to express his affection for me. Formerly, the latter entailed licking a cookie and sticking to my pants, but my young man has graduated to what can only be described within the context of a prize fight. Allow me...

Friday, November 4, 2011

Unanswered Questions, Unrequited Thoughts

Afternoon Readers,
     I like to think I have the best Readers in the whole world, so it pains me when I see the search terms some of you are having to use to get here. Not because they're bad, but because I feel they're really questions you're trying to ask me, but can't get an answer to. Today, I'd like to address the top searches I received this week, and give you some closure. 

1.) "i smooshed a spider"

     Whoever you are, thank you. It gives me great satisfaction to know that, even though I haven't had the pleasure of killing any spiders lately, you, my masked friend, are out there doing what needs to be done. Remember, if you're going to "smoosh", use a shoe. If you're going to "smash", use an old copy of "O" magazine. Your bravery moves me.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

The Secret Sisterhood of The Traveling Toilet Paper

"She will henceforth be known as Sister Charmin."
Afternoon Readers,

     They say that no man is an island, but nothing makes me feel more islandy than being stranded on the toilet. Several days ago, an unfortunate occurrence found me staring at the wall, feeling around the cabinet and bathtub for a lone roll that would be my deliverance. As I heard Butch and Sundance open the dishwasher downstairs, I knew the situation required urgency. If it hadn't been for the rogue paper towels I found, this post would be echoing from the john, my spirit never to return. I questioned why this had happened, until I remembered the Sisterhood...

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Try, Try Again: A Letter To Kim Kardashian

Morning Readers,
After Ryan Reynolds and Scarlett Johansson broke up, I vowed I'd never cry myself to sleep over a celebrity couple, ever again. I think I speak for everyone when I shake a fist at Hollywood and say, "How dare you mess with our lives and our hearts? When you bicker over who looks better in jeggings and giant sunglasses, do we not bleed? When you take eachother's miniature dachshunds, in the divorce, do we, the common people, not be-cry the very sun, "Why, Lord, why?" This time, Husband found me in the kitchen..

     "What are you doing?"

Monday, October 31, 2011

Guest Post: AG From Regected Riter Provides More Tips On Scary Movie Survival

Morning Readers,

     Today I have the pleasure of interviewing my friend AG from Regectedriter. Is he hilarious? Yes. But what you may not know is he's an expert survivalist who recently wrote a pocket guide on not getting killed in a scary movie. Run into a serial killer, while getting groceries? Call AG. Talking killer dolls got you down? AG's your man. Can't get Bruce Willis out of your basement because he thinks he's still alive and acting? know the drill. So, without further ado..

Friday, October 28, 2011

The Happy Helpers Club

Afternoon Readers,

     They showed up unannounced. One minute I was doing chores, and the next, I'd recruited a rag tag help service I don't remember ever hearing or asking about. It happened about two weeks ago. Just as I'd reached to open the dishwasher, a chubby hand holding a business card, stuck itself in my face. Hesitantly, I took the little piece of cardboard out of the waiving paw and read it over:

The Happy Helpers Club, Inc. 
-We "help" out -

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Halloween How-To

Morning Readers,

     Did you know Halloween's only four days from now? Yesterday, as I sat and carved faces into milk jugs to set on the front porch, I couldn't help feeling the holiday had snuck up on me, again. Except, this year, our bank account's a little lighter than last year. While I secured the jugs to the railing, with twine, I did my best to brainstorm cheap, easy costumes able to be completed entirely by glue gun. But, though my nickname on the rough streets of Craftville is "Mean Melty McFelty", ideas weren't exactly falling out of my jugs. So, I did what I do in a non-crisis and tried to glean inspiration from good-mom magazines. Here's a few blurbs I'm saving to help put something together for Butch and Sundance...

Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Nerd Alert

 Morning Readers,
     When Husband and I go out, the general populace usually radiates around our cool. Girls faint, men set free drinks on the sidewalk, and bartenders as us if we're inconveniencing them. Recently, one young lady stopped us and asked, "Are you two super heroes?" We laughed, flexed, told her to stop shaking and that no, we weren't super heroes, but our perfect physiques and impeccably straight noses were terribly misleading. Yep, it's hard being so cool. I'll let you in on a little secret, though... we have to work at it. Mostly by having conversations like this...

Monday, October 24, 2011

An Award: And Seven Things You Didn't Know You Wanted To Know About Me

Morning Readers,

     Last week, the lovely Debra Kristi presented me with the Versatile Blogger Award. As it never fails to amaze me when another person doesn't think I'm completely insane, I was pleased as punch to receive it. Unfortunately, Debra likes to give me awards attached to hundreds of yards of red tape. If I'm to accept this award, I must agree to the following conditions:

  1. Thank the person who shared the award with you by linking back to them in your post.
  2. List seven things about yourself.
  3. Pass this award on to 15 newly discovered blogs and let them know that you included them in your blog post.
     First off, thank you, Debra, for this wonderful award, and for trying to squeeze classified information out of me.

Friday, October 21, 2011

An Absent Mind Is....

Afternoon Readers,

     Yesterday I spent an hour looking for my cell phone. If I didn't find it, I wouldn't have it for when no one called, like usual. If I missed all my non-existent calls, how was I going to not talk to all the people who were trying to not call me about things that didn't concern me at all? After going through all the drawers, the refrigerator and propping-up the dog, I still hadn't found it. I turned to the babies. "Did you eat it?" I put my ear to Sundance's belly to see if I could hear a dial tone. Nothing. It wasn't until I went for my third cookie of the day, that I found it sitting next to the bread. I sighed an ate an Oreo. It had happened again...

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Making Do

Morning Readers,

     When I got the mail, yesterday, I was delighted to see the mailman had stuffed a package that was much too large into our mailbox. Relieved it hadn't arrived in a protective box and set on the porch, away from the elements, I grabbed it and bolted back inside. Butch and Sundance were eating dinner, so it was a perfect time to slice through the plastic, dump out the contents and shake out my brand new coat. My seventeen dollar coat, to be exact. And although I'm pleased to have made such a thrifty purchase, the quality of the thing seems to be lacking. My suspicions were confirmed when I peeked at the tag, which read...

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

The Rare Foot Wing

 Morning Readers,
     If you ever happen to invite me over, don't leave food out you don't want eaten. Like a moth to flame, any stray brownies, meatloaf, pie or Saltines will probably meet their fate at my hands. I look fairly innocent, but turn your back and, wham...."What brownie? I haven't seen any brownies around here. You know how brownies are, probably left you for some Lady O' The Night in Vegas...

Um, do you have any milk?"

But after this past Saturday night, I'm considering revising my grazing habits...

Monday, October 17, 2011

The Uninvited Guest Part II : Rise of the Underground

Morning Readers,

     You'll be happy to know there's been a break in the case:

     Staring at the sprinkled window sill, I wracked my brain. Had we bought the house with or without poop? Flipping through the Tupperware full of official documents, I scanned the contract: Broken window, questionable carpet, one kitchen, invisible fireplace, poop. I looked Butch and Sundance. "Barring the possibility you two pooped on this window sill, it seems our guest has shown his hand. To the Bat mobile..." The rest of the morning was spent gathering supplies and preparing for battle. By the time Husband got home, I was ready..

Friday, October 14, 2011

A Farewell To Romance

Afternoon Readers,

     On the days when I'm lying on the floor pretending my stomach's flat, I often find myself reminiscing about the days when our relationship was young -me and Husband's, not me and my stomach's. The romance, the excitement, the hours of sitting around and pretending we were really busy when we didn't know the meaning of the word. He'd look into my eyes and feign attention while I waxed poetic on the dangers of going from brunette to blond. I'd agree that video games are a cornerstone to society. And I knew we'd forever be as cute as a baby seal eating birthday cake in a polka dotted hat....until a couple days ago, when Husband jumped and yelled...

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Put It On My Tab: Part II

Afternoon Readers,

     I love wasting time. Today, I decided to get it out of the way early, so I'd have the rest of the day to get something done. As some of you may remember, I've been dealing with retrieving a refund from Hospital Robs You In Your Sleep, and, as it's only been six hundred hours since our last song and dance, I thought I'd call them up and see how they were enjoying the money they stole from me.

*Ring Ring*

"Billing, this is Sandy."

"Hi Sandy, this is Mrs. Kellerman. I'm calling about a refund I should have spent last week but couldn't because you never gave it to me?"

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

The Soundness of Silence

Morning Readers,
     It was only a few moments after we'd driven the twins home when I called the hospital:

"Hello, this is Mrs. Kellerman. Yes, I just brought home a set of children and....what?...yes, yes, I got the right ones. It's just, they won't be quiet. Well, you see, I think one of your nurses must've turned something on by accident. They weren't like this when we stayed with you."

I was assured the noise would stop eventually, so I hung up and comforted myself with the thought that, one day, they would stop making so much noise. I must've spoken to the drunk nurse because she failed to mention a few key items. Readers, if you're under the impression that silence and children go together like things that go're mistaken. For Example...

Monday, October 10, 2011

Up Close and Personal: An Interview With My Jeggings

 Morning Readers,

     Yesterday, while rifling through my shoe box of a closet, looking for something that would help me not be naked in public, I happened upon a pair of pants I hadn't worn Jeggings. For my Readers who don't know, Jeggings are the love child of jeans and leggings. Innocent enough, but, while they look good in theory, my courage to wear them has faded over time. Luckily, my Jeggings assured me they had more than enough time to sit down and do an interview. This made it ten times easier to decide whether I'd grab my crowbar and put them on, or opt for a clean sack cloth. In a riveting interview, here's what Jeggings had to say...

Friday, October 7, 2011

The Broken Record

Afternoon Readers,

     Did you know the only word you need to raise a child is "no"? It's a common misconception that a parent needs to know words like "baseball" or "whatever you need to do to learn", but those are completely unnecessary. Just, "no" and a good, broken-in catcher's mitt will do the job. Speaking of which, typing in said mitt makes it nearly impossible to reach the letter "a. I'm doing that with an old bottle cap between my teeth and what I remember from volunteering at that Magician's Who Help Magicians conference. The only problem with saying "no", all the time, is the fact that it's starting to pop-up when I don't necessarily need it...

Thursday, October 6, 2011

So, Nature...We Meet Again

Afternoon Readers,

     I have it on good authority that quite a few people like being outdoors. Some even sleep in it for sport..or maybe it's for melting marshmallows...or trying to attract bears so they'll find the campsite and sentence everyone to untimely bear-realted-face-ripped-off type death. If I don't camp, I'll never see the headline:  

Kellerman woman runs into Winnie The Pooh. Won't be returning from hundred acre wood.

And although I'm not one of those outdoor people, I've made the decision to make sure my children establish some sort of connection with Nature. So I took us to a place where Nature's kept in little pens, for fun...

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

The Not So Handy-Woman

 Morning Readers,
     They say "Those who can't do, teach". I've always lived by the motto "If you can't do it, do it anyway, and Spackle what you can before Husband gets home." Try putting that on a throw pillow; I did, and now my finger perpetually points skyward, making me look about five times more pious than I should, but I've become accustomed to small sacrifices in the name of trying to do things on my own. Not that I don't have a little bit of talent. When I replaced the molding around the bedroom door, it looked good as new. Yes sir, building equity one, upside down piece of lumber at a time...

Monday, October 3, 2011

The Sleepy Fork Incident

Morning Readers,

     Today I'm writing to you in the dark. Normally, I do my writing the day before, but, at Husband's suggestion, I've risen before the sun and begun typing in the "quiet morning hours". The only problem is that  writing requires a certain amount of organized thought, and I've just recently discovered I don't have at 6:30am. While I was passed out, face down, all my organization drooled onto my pillow. Which is why I'm also in my bathrobe listening to Sunny and Cher, staring at our roll of paper towels. I suppose I would've slept a little better if I hadn't been reflecting on my previous day's events....

Friday, September 30, 2011


Afternoon Readers,
     Yesterday, while cleaning out our junk drawer, I found something behind the extra tape, spare pencils and coupons I hadn't seen for quite awhile, so I cracked it open and took a peak. They were still there. I slipped them on and stared at Butch and Sundance. "What do you think?" After dropping their cookies, in shock, they started laughing. I'd found my glasses, the ones I talked myself into not wearing, on the grounds that my vision had gotten better by itself - I hear that happens a just me...and not anyone else. As it turned out, my vision has apparently started healing itself in the opposite direction, leaving me with a somewhat misinformed view of the world.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Diversifying My Confusion

"A 401K that like Hoof and Mouth?"

Morning Readers,

     My approach to money has always been fairly simple - save it..except when you're in college and everyone finds out you were home schooled and didn't party, but spent every weekend working, and have a fair amount of money to buy beer instead of the car your parents talked you out of. Either or, my understanding of money is relatively mundane, so when Husband advised he'd invited financial planners over, I didn't know what to do. "But what do they want?" I questioned.

     "They want to help us evaluate our goals and make sure we're doing smart things with our money."

     "These Ficus planners..that's what they do, evaluate?"

Monday, September 26, 2011

The Homliest of The Homeless: Top 5 Reasons It's Impossible To Look Decent

Morning Readers,
    This weekend I switched on the TV as a reporter, brandishing his microphone, crept up to an unsuspecting woman, and fired questions: "How long have you been homeless?", "I noticed it had a cat playing guitar on it, is that sweatshirt from a very generous family?", "It's smart of you to have a purse that doubles as a pillow/lunchbox." The woman shrugged helplessly while the toddler on her hip chewed on a cracker. "I'm not homeless..and this is Bobby." Shaking my head, I pushed the "off" button with my cereal spoon. It was obvious she'd fallen victim to homeless stereotyping. Let's consider....

Friday, September 23, 2011

Like Strands Through The Hour Glass: A Missing Hair Stylist Mystery

Afternoon Readers,
     I remember it like it was two months, eight days, nineteen hours, five minutes and seven seconds ago, practically yesterday, but a little bit longer than that. After receiving a letter from PETA asking me whether I'd like to be represented as an endangered species, I wandered to the mirror, screamed in fright, passed out, woke-up, and decided looking like Ted Kaczynski had run its course. Grabbing my phone, I  attempted to dial the only woman in the world who can face my head of hair and not need rehab afterwards. But there was nothing, only a blank space where "Keeper of The Locks" should've been...

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Put It On My Tab

Morning Readers,
     Anyone who tells you a baby won't get you into a little bit of debt is lying. That's why I only want to have eight or nine more (ten more, and I'm never getting the yacht and private butler). After I received the bill for Butch and Sundance, I called the hospital. "Yes, this is Mrs. Kellerman. I hate to be rude, but it seems you didn't apply my coupon...what coupon?...It was a two-for-one....well I left it taped to my bed pan so you wouldn't miss it...I see. So, all of it?...yes, yes. I'll start deciding which one to give back...Thank you." The bills haven't stopped coming, and it wasn't until yesterday, I started thinking these people might just be crooks.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Calculating the Velocity of A Toddler: Mass x Acceleration = Insanity

Morning Readers,

     Once upon a time, I needed one more class to graduate. Naturally, because my degree was to be in English, my diploma depended on a solitary science credit. Whine as I might, the man in the tweed coat said, "No, you cannot graduate without it. And stop crying on your over-priced text book; you'll never be able to sell it back." So, after I sold back a soggy copy of "Every Piece of English Literature Ever Written", I was sent to another man in another tweed coat who told me he'd teach me about the stars and math and calculating the mass of blah blah blah. Who cared about big balls of gas and math and suffering?

...Everyone. Turns out, math can save your life..or your coffee.

Monday, September 19, 2011

The Squeaky Wheel Gets The Shame

Morning Readers,

     After a long day of football, Husband was in no shape to go grocery shopping. My heart bled for him - for how brave he'd been to watch game after game without stopping. I clutched his hand.  "Where do you find the strength to go keep those handsome eyes open, shining so bravely into the bleak world that is professional sports? Does it make your pupils hurt?" How could I possibly ask the man to go buy shredded cheese, when he'd beached himself on the couch so nobly? Staunching my tears of pride, I drove to the grocery store, found a parking spot that would tone my calves, and went to grab the first cart I saw.

Friday, September 16, 2011

Letter From The Editor: I'm Guest Blogging Today....

Morning Readers,

     Today I'm guest-writing over at the fantastic Regectedriter's blog. Feel free to stop by and say hello, and I'll see you back here on Monday. Same Bat place. Same Bat time...

Have a Great Weekend Readers!

Thursday, September 15, 2011

The Fugly Christmas Sweater Vampire Incident

Morning Readers,
     Considering the state of the Split-level before we bought it, it's never failed to amaze me people resided here before us. The brown molding, stark walls and swan on the shower door have always suggested a unique sense of bra-burning style, but I'd always imagined the prior residents to be vampires who loved aquatic birds. Because we still get their mail from time to time, Husband I know their name. Thankfully, we now know they're as frightening as we suspected...

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Brad Is The Pitts

Morning Readers,

     A couple nights ago, just as I was about to spend some quality time with my Oreo ice cream sandwich, Husband poked me in the shoulder and pointed at the TV. Touching me while I'm eating is usually a good way to lose a hand, but he seemed excited about something, so I held my desert gingerly on my palm, blew on it to keep it cool and waited for an explanation. "Yes?"

     "We should see this movie. It's called Moneyball. I read the book and can't wait to take you to see it."

     I patted my ice cream lovingly. "What's it about...Ice cream that hasn't melted and the men who serve it?"

Monday, September 12, 2011

An Evening In Review

Morning Readers,

     It may not have made your local news, but Saturday night, Husband and I hit the town. The Date Night Police raised the point we'd already been out once this month, but we managed to smush our guilt into yards of spandex, new dress pants, and cramped shoes, just long enough to drop Butch and Sundance off, and head out in pursuit of our cousin's wedding reception. Given enough time, we managed to transform our new lease on life into something truly special... And it pleases me to say that, after much anticipation, the reviews are in. Here's just a few things people are saying about Saturday night's performance:

Friday, September 9, 2011

In Search of Grown-Up Clothes

Afternoon Readers,

     While lying in bed, and before sweet sleep and Coor's Light could spirit me away to a land where no one asks me anything for eight hours straight, I remembered to run through the Checklist. "Honey, there's a wedding coming up. Do you have a shirt, shoes, belt, pants and a tie? Actual pants, mind you. Not ones with a drawstring." He confirmed he did, but wouldn't mind having a new shirt...or, at least I thought that's what he said, as he set me out on the hallway, closed the door and put a pillow over his ears..

     That night, I dreamed Husband and I were at the wedding, wearing expensive, perfectly tailored outfits. Women fainted. John Stamos asked me to marry him. "No no, Uncle Jessie," I laughed, "I'm taken by that fine man over there. Did you not see how his belt matches his shoes?"

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Au' Jus Really Trying To Cook Something?

Morning Readers,
     Did you know there are books out there comprised entirely of recipes? That's it. Nothing else... Not even a crossword puzzle or a Why Do I Care I share A Birthday With Robert Redford Celebrity Birthday Column. A few days ago,  Husband strolled-up next to me, dropped one of these books on the dining room table, cracked it open and stuck a finger to one of the pages. "We should make this."

     I stopped Googling "how to avoid cooking at all costs" and looked up at him. "Where did you get that?"

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

The Moving Picture Show

Everyone was disappointed that The English Patient in 3D wasn't what they thought it'd be...
 Morning Readers,

     I'd heard about it in the it was on TV. "Talking pictures" was what everyone kept calling them. For a price, people our age could gather in large groups, at something called a "movie theater", and sit in their very own chairs... Chairs made of smooth velvet, uninterrupted dreams. You didn't even have to have a baby attached to your leg, to get in. Confirming this information, I threw my half-eaten waffle into the living room, and proclaimed. "Honey Dew, I've found the answer to our prayers. Hitch the horses and put on your Sunday best..we're going into town." To which, he replied...

Monday, September 5, 2011

A Labor Day Thought And An Award

 Morning Readers,
     Ahh..the three day weekend. Today is Labor Day in the good old USA, meaning everyone gets together and talks about why they hate working so much. Or maybe that was me at 8 o'clock in the morning, grumbling about why the children had to "..wake up and eat breakfast for the 300th day in a row." While I poked at my oatmeal, I contemplated all the other chores I'd be doing. I'd already taken out the trash, sprinting quickly so no one could see my pink fairy pajama bottoms and medical scrub pants. And then I remembered the laundry sitting in the dryer. And then I got mad and slapped my oatmeal. Why? Because oatmeal needs to be put in its place, and because:

Friday, September 2, 2011

The Stand-Off

Morning Readers,

     Right now, my patience is wearing thinner than the ice cubes in my high ball. He's not even trying to make it work. Everything was cake and free cigarettes, for a while, but that dirty, rotten traitor took our love and tore it into little pieces of regret. Someone still has a furry chip on their shoulder and wanted to rub it in. To say, "No, you will never have anything nice because you have kids and a dog, and that dog's middle name is Benedict Arnold. Even though it doesn't actually say that on the birth certificate." My Dear Readers, I'm sad to report the garage sale couch has been violated.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Return of the Dead-Eye

 Morning Readers,
     Some people think I'm stupid. Most of those people are spiders. Usually it's the ones who haven't heard of me, or, as I'm known on the the streets of the spider underground, El Zapato De La Muerte - The Shoe of Death. My dear Readers, you know how I feel about the class Arachnida. And after I issued a clear warning, earlier this summer, it's nothing short of amazing that any of them would dare cross my threshold. But, like I always say:

      "Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice....well, you won't, because I'm coming to kill you with my Land's End relax-fit moccasin."

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

While The Iron's Hot

Morning Readers,
     In America, women have the right to vote, progress carved out with the sweat and tears of our corset-wearing predecessors.  Teenie, tiny waists everywhere banded together, made giant signs and demanded that women be given the same right as men. And to them I say...

What the hell were you thinking?

     Thanks to you, I have the right to walk in and punch a chad, but that doesn't stop Husband from asking me to iron his pants. He doesn't know how. And you want to know why he doesn't know how? Because you didn't make it so.I will now jump in my DeLorean, gun it to 88, and deliver my proposal.

Monday, August 29, 2011

The NFL Widows Club: Coping With Losing Your Man To The Draft

Morning Readers,

     I'd received the call at eleven a.m. Cellphone pressed to forehead, lips delicately grazing the mouthpiece, I muttered, "Uh huh...yes, I see. Well, just know that I love you...and if you don't make it back, I'm taking the good side of the bed, in your memory." I hit "end", clutched my shoulders, slid down the oven and huddled in the corner. When the babies toddled in, I decided to tell them straight out. Wiping the last of my tears with the broom bristles, I said, "We've lost your father to the draft. Be strong and take a graham cracker. They're cinnamon-sugar. I hope they make this moment less bitter for you." Sundance responded by handing me a patch of hair I'd torn out in my grief. "Ma?"

Friday, August 26, 2011

There's A Coupon For That : My Three Tips And Tricks

Morning Readers,
     Recently, I was advised we're in a recession. I've never had money, so I hadn't noticed much of a change, although, the mailman leaving us IOUs, the trashman only taking our soda cans, and the dog offering me half his breakfast all made more sense. We were poor. I flew to the internets, typed in "broke" and waited for Google to tell me which child needed to be adopted out. Instead, it brought me results for coupons, couponista, and extreme couponing. Coupons?...sounded easy enough, so I gave it my best shot. If this is something you're looking to try, dear Readers, please refer to my tip sheet, before you don your Eco-bag and pad out the door. Life's not always a bowl of .39 bananas...

Thursday, August 25, 2011

To Shoe A Baby

Morning Readers,

    Did you know that horseshoes last only 6-8 weeks? Too bad. I was hoping I'd found an answer to my problem. Thanks for nothing, Seabiscuit... My ridiculous babies are growing without so much as a thought for their poor mother. Just last week, their feet were the size of mini corn dogs, and lo and behold, Sundance came strutting in on Monday, and thrust her big toe towards my wallet. "But, I bought you shoes three months ago." I reasoned. She puffed out her cheeks and turned to watch Elmo, a shoeless creature, who also, I've noticed, doesn't have a mother.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

For Louder Or Worse

Morning Readers,
     I've just finished going over the laminated card with my vows on it. Took me a second to find it between my credit card and my Liquor of The Month Club punch card (almost time for a free coaster), but I managed to recover it and find what I was looking for under a subsection:

For Better Or Worse: To interpret this section properly, please understand "better" is used here to mean "happy", "fun", and "not crappy". As such, "worse" is used to refer to circumstances which, generally, make one or both spouses want to dig their eyeballs out with melon ballers. See also "unpleasant", "crappy" or "say that one more time and I'll light your baseball car collection on fire".
     b.) Better - Skip to next section. Take a happy face sticker as you exit.
     a.) Worse - One must put up with aforementioned circumstances, no matter how ridiculous. Please see the following:

Monday, August 22, 2011

Letter From the Editor: Laundry and An Honorable Mention

Morning Readers,

     Today's situation is far more dire than usual. Normally, I keep just enough clean laundry around to make sure no one's using their Sunday slacks as a washcloth, but, I let it get away from me, this weekend. I can't be sure, but I think Husband might have had to provide himself with make-shift socks comprised of old envelopes and staples. That would explain the crinkling sound as he left this morning.
     Because of having to go to battle with the laundry, I have no story for you today. However, I got the happy news, yesterday, that a piece of mine won an honorable mention in the June/July contest and was published on For my Readers who've been with me for a while, you'll recognize it as one of my posts, Pardon My Baby's Hand In Your Purse. For all my new Readers, please enjoy. You can read it here. Now, off to show all that underwear who's boss...

Until Next Time, Readers!

Friday, August 19, 2011

Cash On A Hot Tin Roof

Morning Readers,

     Yesterday, I called Husband, earlier than usual. When one's house is surrounded by twenty-five men with power tools, it's best to let someone know, before your life story's adapted as the screen play for Nightmare On Elm Street XXI. While Butch and Sundance ate waffles, I peered out the door and assessed the situation, while I dialed. "Morning, Sweetheart."

     "Hey,'s it goin'?" He yawned.

     "Good good. The roofers just got here."

     "They're there already? Wait...remember to wear clothes, ok? Like, you know what I mean...a bra and stuff."

Thursday, August 18, 2011

A Quick Dinner

Morning Readers,
    Today the roof is being replaced, which means I've got roughly eight-hundred cattle milling about above the kitchen. By the time I post this, I fully expect to see a pair of work boots fly through the ceiling, land in my sink and ask me for lunch. So, I've decided to dig back into my recipe filofax, and share with you, my Readers, what we had for dinner last night. Enjoy, I've got to go see why the lights are blinking on and off...

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

That's the Impressionist I Get

 Morning Readers,

     No mother likes to be disillusioned. It hurts like a new pair of stilettos, stilettos that smell like crushed dreams and peppermint...possibly new car smell....possibly poop. No matter, new moms carry around false hope like bulk gum from Costco, constantly trying to get people to take a piece. "You want one? You sure? You sure? You toootally sure? Try it try it try it! Fine..more for me." 

     "They're really smart, aren't they? Probably the smartest babies I've ever met."

     My mother looked at me like a person looks at stray dog with one ear missing, and patted me on the arm. "Yes, honey. They're very bright."

Monday, August 15, 2011

Under The Wire: The Death and Re-Birth Of Bob

Morning Readers,

     "Say it ain't so...." I looked at my old friend, his straps hanging sadly from my pointer finger. A moment later, my head was in the washing machine. "Crap." With a tug, I extracted the half-moon-shaped piece of metal stuck to the side of the whirlpool like the spindly arm of a Gucci model. The washing machine had killed Bob, my one and only bra. For a moment I let the emotions wash over me, reflected on all the good times: his constant support, his smile...the way he'd always seen to whisper, "You're up and even, now get out there and raise those kids, champ."

Friday, August 12, 2011

Sea Monsters Vs. Aliens

Morning Readers,

     Anyone who's been married for more than two seconds knows about recurring arguments. Marriage therapists like to tell people that having the same fights over and over means something's wrong - I'm starting to realize those stupid arguments are the glue which binds and fills the boredom void. For example, when two people are still dating, they've got dinners, movies, bars, really fun stuff, no worries, miniature golf, a non-existent mortgage, imaginary kids, and love-blind compliments to fill their time. Once you both compliment each other enough to say "I do", Saturday night sneaks up, and finds you sitting on the couch, filling your time with this conversation:

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Dear Blog, Happy Birthday...

Morning Readers,

     Today, the blog turns one. Yep, thanks to all of you, the last three-hundred-sixty-five days (wait...was last year a leap year?....Oh...ok...thirty days has Septemb -..). Yep, three-hundred-sixty-five-days and one-hundred-fifty-one posts later, There's More Where That Came From rolls on to another year - hold on, I think I just heard the internet send up a collective "huzzah"..., that was the refrigerator dying a slow death. At any rate, I'd like to evaluate the past year's progress, by taking a look at what I was up to, this time, last year. Ahh, here's a page from my imaginary diary. And it says:

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Would Somebody Hail My Kid?

Morning Readers,

     The only thing I love better than grocery shopping is dragging everything home, unloading it, at seven o'clock at night, and realizing someone's already opened my brand new milk; the cap positioned so the tiniest amount of cow juice dribbles from car to counter top. It's a good thing I love it so much, or dragging the babies to the store, to return it, would've been an ordeal. Would've been embarrassing delivering it in a little, yellow taxi. Would've been inconvenient to rely on the cashier to catch my baby like a fly ball...

Yep, good thing I love it so much....

Monday, August 8, 2011

I've Got To Mail the Sheets

Afternoon Readers,

     It's Monday. I don't mean to state the obvious, but I thought I'd be open and share the first thought that popped into my head this morning. "It's Monday." Staring at the ceiling, I contemplated it again. "Monday means...'sheet/bill day'." I pulled my own sheets over my head and made a little tent of self-contemplation where three things were clear. a) I needed to brush my teeth and b.) Sleeping in jogging shorts causes ride-up at about three in the morning and c.) Hiding in bed all day was not an option. How I wished it was an option.

Friday, August 5, 2011

A Bachelor's In Baby Talk

Morning Readers,

     Back when I was a young college pup, I used to play a little game called "Wait Till the Very Last Second To Do a Project". Dangerous, but fun, this game usually found me doing things like Googling random facts in the library, scratching down some notes, and charging, in my pajamas, up three flights of stairs, screeching to halt in front of the class, and pulling off what my teacher said was "An extremely thoughtful take on Gabriel Garcia Marquez's short story, complete with satisfactory elaboration on symbolism." Still achieving most important things in my pajamas, I've always thought of myself as fairly eloquent and off-the-cuff. But, that was before I found the sippy cup.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

Raise High the Roof Prices, Carpenter

Afternoon Readers,

    There's a reason they say a dog is man's best friend. Because, it's definitely not a roof. Roofs are not man's best friend. They won't drag you out of a well or warm your slippers for you. Admittedly, they won't poop in your backyard, but, why do that when they can wait for a passing hail storm and practically throw themselves at it, like a two-bit hussy, without so much as a dinner invite? This past spring, our roof handed out its shingles like vouchers for free ice cream. Which, in turn, led us to filing our first claim on the Split-level....which led to this joyous conversation, and the reason I will never make my roof a friendship bracelet.

Monday, August 1, 2011

Alas Poor Naptime! I Knew Him Horatio.

Morning Readers,

     Today's post will have to be a little short, mainly because I'm standing up. Because I don't work out, I've got about enough stamina in my legs as a chicken with osteoporosis, and the need to collapse on the floor should be hitting me anytime now. Why don't I sit down to write? On a normal day, that would be a stupendous option, enlightened, magical. Today it means being clung to tighter than Rose hugged that door in Titanic. Let me paraphrase:

     "Jack, Jack! The babies are clinging to me, Jack. If they don't let go, I fear my arms will be confined to my sides and I'll be typing with the unrefined tip of my nose, forced to compose something even worse than that nude drawing you #2 penciled of me..."

Friday, July 29, 2011

The Odd Couple: 5 Reasons I'm Letting Flea Renew His Lease

Morning Readers,

     Recently, Flea turned two years old - a momentous occasion which not only marked his time on this planet, but also his ATS (Ability To Survive) score. Right now, he's registering a solid 49 out of 50; perfect marks eluding him due to a slick pool of drool recently discovered on the sides of the coffee table. No one's more impressed than me. If you'd asked me, a year ago, what I thought of the dog, I would've been happy to expound on the joys of making one's own boxer-skin-coat and what an economical hobby it could be. If he'd chewed a hole through one more thing, I would've happily typed out instructions on how to turn him into the throw pillows he'd digested. Luckily for him, he's matured, and we've come to an odd, almost roommate-ish sort of situation. I'm only letting him stay because...

Thursday, July 28, 2011

The Tale of Shake and Bake

Morning Readers,

     I've long felt that a grocery store is as good a place as any to explore one's own inadequacies. For instance, you may occasionally find yourself  staring a gorgeous, yellow skyscraper of of bananas, thinking, "Those sure look like some delicious bananas...I wish I knew what I could use them for." Or, "Yeesh, this potato sure looks top notch. If only I knew a few good ways to prepare it..I'd buy it right now." But you're scared, and the eyes of savvier shoppers convince you to drop the produce and walk away.'s not just what you slip into shoes, everyday....

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

I Swear Officer, He Said It Looked Fine

 Morning Readers,

     When I got back from the lake, on Sunday, I did a little 'happy dance' as I brought in the mail. Flopping on the couch and bypassing the stack of bills, I grabbed the white envelope and, in eager anticipation, ripped the end off and shook out the contents. I looked at the contents. I got up, walked to the kitchen, found a paper bag that looked about the right size, and (after cutting-out an eye hole) pulled it over my head. I walked back to the couch and sat down. "I am not an animal", I whispered. My new driver's license just laid on the coffee table, reminding me that I'd been told it was the word? Oh yeah..

Monday, July 25, 2011

Hello Nature, It's Me Again.

 Morning Readers,

     I feel like I'm on a boat dock. And what began as a pretty straight forward attempt at writing today's post is quickly becoming a game of "stop moving around, laptop...I mean it". My wood laminate is also doing an excellent impression of the rise and swell so carefully described in Moby Dick. "Stop it. We're not hunting whales on a Monday." I want to scream. The past three days were spent in the wild. Ok, it was more along the lines of a very lovely house on the lake, but close enough that I had to shake hands with nature. And you all know how I feel about nature. Just in case you made a complete leap and assumed I went frolicking through valleys of wildflowers, whilst hugging a badger...

Hold on.... that was a bad one. Let me swim after my laptop and we'll continue.

Friday, July 22, 2011

Here's To You Wendi Deng

Morning Readers,

     It's a slow Friday around the Split-level. Butch and Sundance called a truce and finished peace negotiations in time for a nap, leaving me a few moments of peace and quiet. If I were worth anything, I'd be organizing my shoes or sanitizing my trashcan. Instead, I utilized the last few moments to get up to speed on the latest on world news. Which is why I simply must mention Mrs. Deng. For my Readers too busy working out world peace to be bothered with the internets, Wendy Deng made herself an overnight sensation by attacking her husband's would-be attacker first, sparing him from being hit with a pie to the face, and the ridicule of clown colleges the world over. An admirable act, but it got me thinking; how am I ever going to prove my love to Husband, if he's never attacked by a pie?

Thursday, July 21, 2011

The Paper Shredder Murders

Morning Readers,

     Yesterday I saw a flyer nailed to a telephone pole. It read something like this..

Police are looking for any information which will help them  identify the killer of five paper shredders withinthe last six months. Suspect is believed to be a somewhat attractive (though nothing to write home about) white female in her late twenties. Due to the large amounts of paper found on the scene, and the force with which each shredder was found stuffed to the gills with paper, she is believed to be equipped with incredible biceps. Suspect is considered armed and dangerous. If you or anyone you know has any information as to the whereabouts of this individual, please call.

Tuesday, July 19, 2011

My Secret Recipe

Morning Readers,

    Last night was "Meatloaf Night", and, while I was whipping-up my culinary delight, I thought of something; I've never actually shared my recipe with you.... And why not? We're all friends. Balderdash, I thought. Who am I to keep a fabulous recipe for meatloaf, all to myself? Some of my Readers could be staring at their ovens, this very moment, desperately seeking direction for a good loaf. I'm a loaf hog who shall redeem herself tomorrow. So, let me just dig through my neatly-filed index cards we go. I found it. I found it.. OK, so get out a pen and paper and we'll get started...

Monday, July 18, 2011

A Love Letter To My Kindle

Morning Readers,

     Last Friday, when it wasn't my birthday, I received a very thoughtful gift. It thoughtfully stayed in its box on the trip home, and thoughtfully stayed in my bedroom, until I thoughtfully took it out, later that night. Granted, it'd been a busy day, and I hadn't had a whole lot of time to pull off the wrapper and formally introduce myself, but I was also a little nervous. And by "nervous", I mean I was an elitist, a "book snob", a "I only read paper books because, yes, I'm better than you, actually care about literature, have an English degree and, if you're wondering, drive the car with the bumper sticker that reads "Honk if you love Gutenberg.." type of person. But then, I opened Kindle.

My Precious...

Friday, July 15, 2011

Ten Reasons It's Not My Birthday

Morning Readers,

      Whew.... just finished flexing in the mirror. In case you're wondering, yes, the guns look great. It's a good thing it's not my birthday, otherwise, my sweet biceps wouldn't be making other moms jealous when I go grocery shopping, lift the 2 lb tub of mayonnaise, above my head, and shout, "Wow, this wouldn't be so easy if I were any closer to 30." Nope, not my birthday yet. I'm sure of it. Although, I did get a card, this morning, and a few people texted me and insisted that it's my birthday. That makes me sad and gives me one more thing to put on my "To Do" list: Find New Friends. You'd think Husband would, at least, know it's not my birthday. But he kissed me and clearly said, "Happy Birthday", this morning. Maybe I need to make sure.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

The Greatest Escape

Morning Readers,

     I'm of the opinion babies shouldn't fly, base jump, bungee, or operate a hang glider of any sort. Not only do they have extremely short arms - which prohibit proper mechanic responses like pulling rip cords or breaking properly - but tiny fingers do a poor job of signaling innocent bystanders to move aside, when they're coming in for a landing. Unfortunately, babies tend to do what they want, engaging in risky behaviors without prior approval. Even if one thinks the fat offender is locked safely away in his prison cage crate crib, ready for a good night's sleep, the young one is, no doubt, putting the finishing touches on the sheet-rope which will lower him to freedom.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Who Taught You How To Drive?

Morning Readers,

    If you ask him, Husband probably won't readily admit it, but I've saved us from at least two different accidents in the time we've known each other. After a shopping trip one year, I pulled myself away from deciding how many Christmas gifts I'd keep for myself, just long enough to let out a super-sonic scream and alert Husband to the fact we were about to slide into a much nicer car. *stopping to high five myself*. A few weeks ago, same situation, sans presents. Safety Sue strikes again and manages to stop Husband from running into a car on our way to the ballpark. (I'm now crying because I'm so moved by my service to humanity). So why is it he still thinks I'm the bad driver? This past weekend I weighed the facts.

Monday, July 11, 2011

The Panic Room

Morning Readers,

     Ahh, another Sunday, another fight for our lives. Thank goodness it's Monday and not Sunday, in which case, I'd still be dwelling on the horror and thinking it's Sunday and hoping for Monday and losing my mind somewhere along the way. But it's Monday, and it's all behind me....until next Sunday, and then I'll have to do it all over again. OK, now I'm dwelling, a horrible thing as I should be doing laundry, starting the dishwasher or solving that wily Rubik's Cube we call World Peace. Perhaps this is what panic feels like, but I shouldn't panic because I'm not in there I?

...No, today is Monday.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

Letter From the Editor: Subscriptions Now Fixed

Morning Readers,

     As you know, I usually don't post on the weekends, but it was brought to my attention, on Friday, that some links on the blog haven't worked since I had the web address changed to After working with a very patient tech support person, the problem was discovered to be lying between my keyboard and my chair. *shrugs innocently*. So, if you are one of my Readers who usually got my posts to your email, Google, Yahoo, etc. homepages, or had subscribed to an RSS feed, my deepest apologies for making it look like I hated you. I don't....

I love you like a fat kid loves cake.

However, now that everything's fixed, if you'd still like to do me the greatest honor of reading this blog, you'll have to re-subscribe or re-enter your email. If you need any help, or find you're still having problems, please send me an email at I greatly appreciate your patience, Readers.


The Editor and Chief

Friday, July 8, 2011

Who's Scared of Their Refrigerator?

Morning Readers,

     I can see it now. A bright, shining kitchen..... waxed floors, cabinets with handles prominently touching the un-pop-corned ceiling, and a bowl full of oranges, are displayed before me. The camera pans to an impossibly skinny woman who looks like how you imagine you'd look if you could force yourself to drink those diet shakes for every meal instead of making the excuse you "don't want to die today." She smiles at you and opens a gleaming refrigerator, perfectly organized, perfectly clean, her hand easily finding the cheesecake-flavored yogurt she'll survive off of for the rest of the day. You die a little inside, not because she doesn't have a muffin top, but because she found that yogurt too, damn, easily. "Where are the hobos, the ghouls, the days-old casserole?", you yell. You begin to suspect advertisers aren't that honest.

Thursday, July 7, 2011

I Mustache You A Question..What Is That?

Morning Readers,

     Sometimes I can't help myself. When I see a wall, the urge to run over to it and start slamming my forehead, repeatedly, is far too strong.The neighborhood kids have started calling me "Mrs. Denty Heads McGee", and I'm this close to being able to eat Fruit Loops out of the sweet, little divot above by eyebrows. Occasionally, the absurdities of life have this effect. For instance, why is it I'm required to shave every, last hair off my legs, shining them to a glow Mr. Clean would write me hate mail for, when Husband's allowed to aid the the Rainforest by growing a preserve on his upper lip? Twelve years of grammar, four years of college, and one English degree later, and all I can say is....It is furry... wombat.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Happy Anniversary: I Have A Face and A Book Review and A Top Ten List

Morning Readers,

     I could lie and say I've got all my thoughts in order today, but I shan't. Actually, if you read today's title, you probably already know it's an off day, and there's an excellent chance if you keep reading, you'll end up as confused as I am. So, let's see.....yes, that was it. I need to mention my anniversary. If I don't, I'll forget that I had one. I had an anniversary. Husband and I have officially been married for two years....and I have a face. Crap, I'm getting off subject again.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Am I the Only One In This House That Can Dress Myself?

 Morning Readers,

     First tip of the day: Don't dunk your cookie in your coffee for more than five seconds. No one likes eating only half the cookie they'd intended to eat in its entirety. Second tip of the day: If you have children and a husband, stop going places. I mean it....just stop. Resign yourself to eighteen years of having food delivered to the door, never seeing sunlight and organizing intramural staring contests for your family. Sound difficult? It's not. At least, not as difficult as trying to get everyone ready to go somewhere. Why oh why did no one tell me? I mean, I was well-aware that being a wife and a mother came with being responsible for everyone, but, do I have to be the only one who knows how to dress herself? *forehead meets table*
     Saturday found us getting ready for a wedding, and after I'd stuffed each baby into something clean and presentable, I attempted to dress myself. But there was a third person who needed to be dressed, before that could happen.

Friday, July 1, 2011

I Vote "Yes" to Separate Beds

Morning Readers,

     I don't know about the rest of you, but growing up I used to watch a whole lot of old 50's and 60's re-runs. Being a home schooled child, I took careful time out between my "History of the Americas" and "How to Make Friends" text books, to click on the TV and see what Lucy, Samantha and Major Nelson were up to. I ate it up, but always found one thing to be particularly confusing: Why did married couples sleep in separate beds? (Well, that, and how Major Nelson fit into that damn bottle without pooping himself.) My parents didn't sleep in separate beds, neither did anybody else that I knew of. So why? My research (Googling) tells me it was because of TV censorship. My own experience now makes it abundantly clear, those women were trying to keep their sanity...

Thursday, June 30, 2011

The Snappy Dictator

Morning Readers,

    Sometimes, I think people can be a little uptight. Or rather, I perceive others to be uptight, when, in actuality,  they're staring at my kids, wondering how a female gorilla raised them for entire year. To be completely honest, I speculate seventy-eight percent of the population looks at Butch and Sundance and wonders how they received their, particular "mother assignment". The other twenty-eight percent is too busy calling social services. Let's take what happened yesterday, for example.

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

My Life As A Short Order Cook

Morning Readers,

     In some forgotten era of my life, in some remote part of the world, some backwoods diner once let me waitress. I could paint a rather colorful verbal portrait of my time there, but suffice to say, that was the one and only job I was ever fired from. I learned very few applicable life lessons while I waited tables (although, "don't stick you finger in the pie before you serve it" is always useful), but one thing made itself crystal clear; I never wanted to be a short-order cook. And yet, lately I'm finding myself in that very same occupation. Only, I'm not getting paid, and there's no free pie....I wish there were free pie.

Monday, June 27, 2011

I Couldn't Walk and Program My Gum, Without You

Morning Readers,

     It's pretty typical, the minute Husband instills the most minute bit of faith in me, I throw it out the window, or rather..unplug it. I suppose I should've let him ride the high from last night. Sweetly, he'd let me play video games with him, patiently stopping to explain why I shouldn't be "pressing buttons like crazy" and why I should be "capturing the flag instead of shooting yourself by accident". Darling man... And just as the evening was ending, I'd begun to get the hang of it, mastering something that requires electricity. Husband was proud, I was happy, and first thing this morning, I got up and threw his faith in me away...

Friday, June 24, 2011

Where Have All the Bras Gone?

Morning Readers,

     I, quite literally, hopped out of bed this morning. Prospects of escaping the house do that to me. Let me rewind and add that I usually do a quick "briefing" the minute I open my eyes, a review, if you will, of whether it's worth it to actually vacate the bed. Such as:

Good Morning, Me. Today is June the 24th, 2011. Is there anything worthwhile happening today? Let's see, grocery shopping, bill-paying, baby-nailclipping...what else?...what else?

     If I can't come up with anything, I usually roll my muffin-top over and go back to sleep. But if, say, I remember, Ahh, yes, I'm going to the baseball game, tonight.., I usually fall out of bed a little quicker, start planning an outfit, and remember I'm the proud owner of one and only one bra.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

That Thing On Your Bumper Says I'm A Hard Worker

Morning Readers,

     Before I slapped my cubicle in the face and turned my back on it forever, I had to strip the last remnants of decoration off it, unceremoniously throw it all in a plastic shopping bag and drag the whole thing to my car. Once there, I opened the back hatch and threw all the loose papers, gifted stuffed animals and Office Space memorabilia underneath a blanket and didn't give it another thought....but...I should have. If I'd done the responsible thing and driven home, unpacked it all and put it in a drawer somewhere, it wouldn't be threatening to cause accidents all over the interstate...

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

I Bet My Doctor's Older Than Yours..

 Morning Readers,

     I apologize for not writing yesterday. As I explained before, I've been slowly losing my hearing, and it needed to be addressed. To be sure, I'd definitely contemplated the pros of not being able to hear my children scream and the fact not being able to hear wouldn't have that much impact on my writing (I'd already begun brainstorming a very touching memoir tentatively titled "Silent Universe: One Woman's Courageous Battle in a World That Couldn't Understand Her Hand flapping"). It wasn't until I scooted into the doctor's office, I realized I needed my hearing and would never wear Velcro shoes..

Monday, June 20, 2011

My Hypochondria's Making It Hard To Hear

Morning Readers,

     Everyone's good at something. For instance, I've noticed some people have the ability to avoid telling the truth at all costs, have a knack for turning old milk cartons into planters, or making tiny sweaters for mice. In my case, I've forever been in possession of the impressive ability to fabricate any and every illness the medical community has ever stumbled upon or made-up for grant purposes. WebMD's ready to revoke my account and Google's stopped returning my searches and begun sending applications for mental hospitals, straight to my email. Husband's grown tired of it, as well, even though this time, I swear something's wrong with me...I think....I'm pretty sure...Bueller..

Friday, June 17, 2011

I Like What You Like...Sort Of

Morning Readers,

     I love reading marriage blurbs in the paper or on those wedding-planning websites. If you're like me, you laugh whenever you read one because they go something like this:

Bob and Erma met over their mutual love of coffee and lama-riding.  After their yearly trip to build houses for southeastern, jungle pigmies, Bob finally got down on one knee and asked Erma to marry him. Erma, choking on her own happy snot, gushing tears down the side of their favorite hiking hill, said yes. The rest is history.

      The only problem? Those neatly-crafted bios only tell part of the story. If they were being completely honest, they'd continue as such:

Thursday, June 16, 2011

These Crackers Taste Just Like Savings: 5 Signs You're An Off-Brand Shopper

Morning Readers,

     As I've gotten older, my standards have changed. For instance, I no longer gauge my level of attractiveness by how many whistles I receive while pumping gas in my sweatpants, a paper bag over my head now passes as decent make-up job, and a well-placed headband beats a shower, any day. Yep, I'm definitely not as uptight as I used to be, and my grocery shopping has followed suit. I've made the leap to off-brand shopper (to be read as "shopper", not "leper"). And now that I've found the perfect song to accompany me, I'll proceed to help you, my Readers, figure out whether you're an off-brand lep....shopper, as well.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

The Beer's Folded and The Laundry's Cold: 12 Steps To Being The Perfect Housewife

Morning Readers,

     I'm starting to think Google doesn't always know what it's talking about. I know, I know, how can that be, right? Everyone knows every fact on the internet has been checked and referenced, but that doesn't mean I'm not popping the Advil bottle like a well-greased Pez dispenser... Why? Because being a housewife is hard work. I mean, I tried, I really did. After I told Google that yesterday was my first, official day as a full-time homemaker, it came up with a list of things I should be doing, and I did my utmost to adhere to it. Why then, am I still picking lipstick out of my teeth and nursing burn marks on my ankles?

Monday, June 13, 2011

The Dentist: A Sweet Escape Into Pain

Morning Readers,

    To get you up to speed, I don't look like a hill billy. But if I'd chosen to, forgoing the dentist would've taken my overall aesthetic appeal from a seven to a three...perhaps a five to a two. But I wasn't going to skip it. A trip to the tooth doctor meant an hour all to myself.... an hour without kids. You think that's sad? I wore my best jeans, combed my hair (ok, I sort of  stabbed at it with my fingers, braided it and smoothed down the wispy parts around my ears), and put on my Sunday deodorant. As luck would have it, I'd completely forgotten how horrifying having a tooth filled is..

Friday, June 10, 2011

Give Me My Double-Wide

Morning Readers,

     It hurts. Any why shouldn't it? If one drinks off-brand coffee, the subsequent liquifying and evacuation of one's insides shouldn't come as any real surprise. Presently, I've got a Tupperware bowl patiently waiting to catch whats left of my bowels.  I've decided to name the bowl Melvin. Melvin's life will be rough, as I'll be drinking off-brand coffee for awhile. That's what happens when you're on a budget. You cut costs, tighten the old belt, sit on street corners playing a ukelele and waiving your "World's Best Mom" mug at passersby, shouting, "Spare some change. Change or a waffle? Waffle or some dental floss?...toilet paper?" You also tend to believe anyone who says that want to give you money..

Thursday, June 9, 2011

Is That Poop Or Meat?

Morning Readers,

     There’s a saying around the split-level, “If you don’t know what it is, taste it.” Sometimes this works out well for the taster, sometimes not.  Usually, ambiguous spots and splotches are discovered to be harmless chocolate or leftover motor oil. We’re not science-minded folk, and poking, prodding and sampling things like apes, is usually our modus operandi.

     “Is that poop or meat?” I looked down at my son, expecting an answer from an individual who, earlier that morning, had tried to eat cheerios out of my hand like a small, baby goat.

     He looked back at me from the changing table, grinned widely with all four teeth, and said, “Ma”.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Blinded By Cool: The Top Seven Reasons To Wear a One-Piece Swimsuit

Fun Fact: Wikipedia tells me this is Annette Kellerman circa 1923. Proving that Kellermans have been most comfortable in full-body swimwear for almost a century.
Morning Readers,

    We'd just returned from the pool. While hanging up towels, putting away sandals, etc, I jokingly asked Husband, "So, what did you think of my one-piece suit? Pretty dorky?"

Without hesitation, he said, "Yeah, but it's functional. It serves it purpose."

(I know, I know, fishing for compliments is tacky. But, at the same time, I'm tacky, so it evens out.)

But "functional"? I'd been prepared for the compliment of "functional" my entire life, but I'd always assumed it's be more in the context of, "Paige, after eighty-seven weeks of rehab, we've decided you're functional."

Sans compliments, ego deflated, I decided to wander around the house in said swimsuit, eat a granola bar and contemplate other perks bound to the one-piece suit..

Monday, June 6, 2011

Bring Out Your Dead: Coping With X-Box Loss

Morning Readers,

     Sometimes Husband and I have really bad luck. A lot of people have bad luck, but our particular brand of bad luck suggests we work really hard at it:

 i.e. "That's right, Marge. I heard about that Kellerman wedding. Mmm hmmm....yep, right after they broke all those mirrors, they started chasing each other under ladders and throwing black cats all over the place. No, no, that was after  the ritual goat sacrifice....but the food was good. A taco bar can fix anything...

You'd understand my lack of surprise, then, when another rain of toads hit the split-level, this weekend. Only, it wasn't toads (just in case you thought it was toads..if it ever is toads...well, let's not think about it..), but something which sounds equally biblical...

Friday, June 3, 2011

A Letter To Spiders: Death Be Not Proud, Death Be A Shoe

Morning Readers,
     Once again, summer's here, and with it, a barrage of undesirable creatures looking to make my house into their vacation spot. Just this morning, I observed an ant power lifting a corn flake, scuttling it off to it's evil ant home. Butch and Sundance were sitting in my lap, otherwise I would've whacked it with the nearest blunt object. My soul died a little as I watched it get away scott-free. But, the ants will have their reckoning. Today I sit down to compose a letter to the real foe, the arch-nemesis nature saw fit to pit me against, for yet another, long, hot season. Here's my warning to you, Rhabidosa Rabida...

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Do The Oliver Twist and Get Poor

Morning Readers,

     You know what's so annoying about being ridiculously wealthy? Personal maids, for starters. That, and stupid butlers who're constantly trying to make breakfast and bring it to you in bed. And don't even get me started on personal trainers. Who wants someone carefully mapping out every, single step they need to take, in order to shed the remaining ounces of baby fat from their perfectly-sculpted waist? A hassle, all of it. That's why Husband and I have decided to be poor. No one tries to dress you in the morning, and we're luckily spared from having to berate our staff, on the front lawn, because SOMEONE didn't trim the hedges to represent Stonehenge just the way we like it.  And now, because we like being poor so much, we've decided to become

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Jurassic Park: A Parent's Best Friend

Morning Readers,

     Some people probably think referencing Jurassic Park is dated and irrelevant. And to those people I say, "Hogwash". Jurassic Park is not only a masterful work of fiction, its valuable life lessons will span the decades, teaching young children how to roll safely out of crashed jeeps, climb electrified fences, and run when Dr. Grant tells you to run. But more importantly, parents should be keeping a copy on their bedside table. Maybe some of my Readers have What To Expect or Jane Eyre next to their waterbeds. Do me a favor, throw them away, buy a copy of Jurassic Park, cover it in contact paper, write your name on it, and shove it under your pillow. That way, you'll be prepared for when your dinosaurs get smarter...

Monday, May 30, 2011

Don't Lose A Finger On Memorial Day

Morning Readers,

     Today I'll keep it short and sweet because a.) I only have nine more hours of daylight with which, to squeeze my form into a bathing suit and waddle to the local swimming hole, and b.) the puncture wounds in my pointer finger are making it difficult to type. So, while I'd like to remind you to remember all of our fallen vets, on this great day, I'd also like you to remember that teething babies are dangerous babies. On this Memorial day, if you find you simply must stick some type of medicine in a baby's mouth, for your own good, please check with this list first:

Friday, May 27, 2011

Don't Tell Me What You Think I Want To Hear About What I'm Thinking

Afternoon Readers,

     If you were to ask me, "Paige, would you rather be chased down a crooked hallway by an ax-wielding murderer, or listen to the babies scream at you some more?", I'd say, "First of all, that's a strange question to ask, at a Church picnic, but if you really want to, please." My threshold for screaming is high, but wasn't high enough yesterday, to keep me from being reduced to a big, crying weenie.. As a result, I found myself on the phone with Husband being talked down....kind of..
What follows is a rough transcript of our conversation:

Thursday, May 26, 2011

Sign Me Up, God. I'm Ready To Be Canonized Now.

Morning Readers,

     Do any of you happen to know where you can request an application for sainthood? I've spent the better part of the morning searching the Vatican's website for some type of form, brochure, or comment box, on which, I can make a case for beatifying myself. I know what you're thinking, That's mighty bold of you Paige, especially because we read your blog, and know just what type of person you are. Fair enough, but I'm not applying to be the patron saint of humility or sobriety. Perhaps if I tell you I've been taking care of two, sick children, while being sick myself, you'd hop on the interwebs and start looking for heaven's fax number yourselves.. Actually, do that...I could use some help, and I'm fairly certain my "clicking" finger is developing carpal tunnel..

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Guest Post: Plastic Surgery to Stop the Bullying?

Morning Readers,

     It's Wednesday, and that means another, wonderful guest post from a fellow Readers. Today's writer is Lissette Minges from the great state of Oklahoma. Lissette would like to share her thoughts about child plastic surgery. Yes, you read that correctly. To nip and tuck? That is the question.. Lissette's adventures with her husband and baby boy, Oliver, can be found on her blog

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Sock It To Me, Stephen Hawking

Morning Readers,

     We'd been watching a movie together, Husband and I, playing our normal game of "Stupid Pieces of Actor Trivia That We Know But Are Completely Irrelevant to Life As We Know It". I finished an interesting tid-bit with, "Yeah, because I'm smarter than you."
    He laughed a long and hearty laugh evil pirates would be jealous of and replied, "Umm..I'm smarter than you. Why do you think I married you? You need me.... Are we really going to argue over it now?"

    My eyes wide, I gaped at him like a trout. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. I think Mamma needs to lay down some ground rules. You're the one who needs tie your shoes and stuff...and...and.."

Monday, May 23, 2011

Breaking News: Parents Raptured To Death By Baby Screams

Morning Readers,

     Did you hear Arnold Schwarzenegger is a dirty, old man? I did, only because it was all over the news like hot butter on a bald cat (or Dippin Dots on a sun-burned dog, but I'm not sure which). And it's all horrible and the general public laments as another pair of celebrities divvy-up a gazillion dollars, and yada yada yada. Well, what about the rest of us that were left behind after the Rapture?

Oh, wait...

Friday, May 20, 2011

Hey Haley Joel Osment, Paying It Forward Makes Your Car Smell Like Beef

Morning Readers,

     My car smells like beef. Not cheap like happy meal crushed into the carpet, but classy, like Michael Angelo walked into my garage, decided Sistine Chapel 2.0 was in order, and proceed to paint it in Au Jus all over the interior, complete with little, beef angels on my console. I suppose it sounds delicious in theory (those little trees that smell like pine, bananas, the troll doll your dog ate when you were five, are so passe'), but something about jumping in my vehicle and feeling like I'm trespassing on the set of CSI: Cow Sloughter Investigations, makes peeling out of my driveway less enjoyable. How's a person supposed to recreate Fast and the Furious if their car smells like french dip? Ummm...they can't. But that's what happens when you pay it forward..

Thursday, May 19, 2011

The Tale of Stretch Mark Island

Morning Readers,

     Once upon a time, there was a magical place covered in sandy golden beaches, caressed delicately by crystal blue waters lapping its edges. Known to appear only between the bewitched months of June and August, this enchanted place could be summoned by only the most desperate of mothers.
      The story goes, a sad woman named Paige looked in the mirror one day, all frowns and pouts, her hands jiggling the tire around her waist. She shook it angrily and shouted at the stretched-out, little muffin in the mirror, "Listen muffin, I've had enough of you. It's only t-minus one week until the pool lets me in, and you're truly unsightly. Because of you, I must buy a body-encasing garment with which to hide you. If only there were a place where I could wear a two-piece swimsuit without ridicule."