Monday, February 28, 2011

The Estate Sale

Morning Readers,

     "That's what an estate sale means....they died." I say, very matter of factly. Que husband's charmingly surprised face, and the adorable response of, "Oh." This brief conversation was exchanged while lugging the twins through a complete stranger's home, this past Saturday. We're old and married now, Readers, so you can't expect us to be lounging around, enjoying the first lazy day of the weekend. No no no. We choose to pack up our children, and go poking through dead people's leftover possessions. Because that's not morbid.

Friday, February 25, 2011

My Daughter the Dipper

Hey Readers,

     Good news..I found my earring. It's a fake, five dollar diamond, and I have no idea where the back is, but as I almost never buy jewelry, it's a relief to have a matching pair again. The bad news is where I found it. Like most tiny objects, having the terrible misfortune of residing in our home, it was discovered, hiding snugly, in a spitty, fat cheek. Smart enough to remember that my little girl hasn't kicked off her rap career and purchased a grill lately, my hand shot out and retrieved the shiny object from her pudgy face. I'm sighing as I write this, because this isn't the first time I've had to go mouth fishing. My daughter's developing a nasty dipping.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Please, Someone Feed Me

Morning Readers,

     You've caught me in the middle of a Castaway moment. An excellent and probable guess, but no, I'm not having deep conversations with a volleyball. Rather, I'm starving to death. You wouldn't be able to tell it from the sweet little roll of fat sneaking over my lemon-yellow Danskin pants, but the noises from my stomach are selling me out. The ones that alternate between gurgles, and baby coyotes howling in the moonlight. I wouldn't intentionally starve myself. Instead, I've opted to lay my feeble life upon the alter of diet shakes, and let them kill me instead. I beg you Slimfast...finish me off quickly. Be merciful.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Me vs. My Closet

Morning Readers,

     It's a really good thing that crimes against fashion aren't punishable by death. If so, I would've been dragged outside and shot aloooong time ago. It's not so much that I'm completely inept at putting an outfit together; it's quite the opposite really. Given enough time and unlimited supplies of money, I can put together a "Was that Coco Chanel that just walked by Marge? Because I swear it was" type of outfit. My big problem?....packratishness. In layman's terms, this breaks down to one's overwhelming urge to horde clothes, possessed since high school, while simultaneously harboring hopes that they will, once again, be able to stretch around an ever-expanding rear, not unlike our very own cosmos.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Friends Help Friends Keep Brain Cells Together

Morning Readers,

     I'm drinking out of the "chipped" mug. The one with the dime-sized rough spot that always ruins my coffee-drinking experience. Until the dishwasher's finished, I have no other alternative. And although the sandpaper feeling, across my bottom lip, should totally be pooping on my liquid joy, I won't let it. This weekend was excellent, and it's loveliness is still resonating with my be-sweatshirted self. Why? Well, besides the calm lunch husband and I pulled off with the twins yesterday, I got to do something that most mothers yearn for on a daily basis. Social interaction. Yessssssssss.

Friday, February 18, 2011

A Bed, By Any Other Name, Would Still be My Lover

Morning Readers,

     I remember it very clearly. Many moons ago, when I was a lanky, brace-faced nerd of a girl, I had a particular talent for aggravating my mother. Every morning brought, "Get out of that bed, this instant! You are literally sleeping the day away!" This phenomena was particularly bad on a Saturday. I heard the words, but the pillow was so warm, so squishy, so inviting, I thought it very rude to abandon it to icy-cold emptiness. I'm a complete slug when it comes to getting up in the morning, so now that I have children, I find myself contemplating the complexity of sleep, more than ever.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Someone.. Call For Backup

Hello Readers,

      Baby gate? Check. Plastic locking thingy? Check. Catcher's mitt?...ah yes...Check! OK, it looks like I'm locked and loaded for another day with the twins. Because these days, I have to be thoroughly prepared before stepping into the danger zone. One doesn't simply stroll into the Outback without a boomerang or large game net, into the Wild West without a six shooter, into the Miss America Pagent without duct tape...Supplies man. You need supplies. That, an industrial-strength broom for what needs to be swept away after the dust settles.
     With the exception of knitting, cooking, and Tae Bo, I'm a pretty quick learner. And that's a good thing because the twins are taking me on a crash course, specifically designed to illustrate how quickly a home can be taken apart, from the inside out, using nothing but their fat little baby paws. Or as I like to call them...Chubby fingers of destruction.

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

It's What All the Kids Are Watching

Morning Readers,

     I'd have to say, I'm not big on routine, but lately, I find that routine is the superglue which binds my life together. Sure, I've always been one for the scalding-hot cup of coffee in the a.m., and Jeopardy fest in the p.m., but for the most part, my life has never really been routine-driven. Until now. And apart from the regular bottle-making, diaper-changing, and cookie extraction from all the varnished surfaces in my little home, I find, more than anything, I've become a children's tv junkie.
    I know. I know. So embarrassing. And up until now, I felt no desire to share it with you Readers. Until I realized... I have a problem.  I don't think I'm going to check into Betty Ford anytime soon (fortunately, it's not the type of problem that leaves nasty track marks), but it's still good to get it all out there. Because it's progressed from running baby programming during the day, in the attempt to distract the twins, to full-fledged "I watch it all the time because it's been programmed into my system to look for cartoons" mode.....

Monday, February 14, 2011

Surprise!...You're Old

Happy Valentine's Day Readers,

     Last week I promised you a colorful post on this past weekend's exploits.  And what better way to celebrate one of the world's most commercial holidays, than outlining the most wonderful two days husband and I have had in recent memory? Let me re-phrase; it was the best two days we've had alone, in recent memory.
     Husband get's excited about many things: football, Fritos with spicy bean dip, and hearing the words "I'll change the dirty diaper this time. You go relax." Unfortunately, his birthday never makes the list of things he raises an eyebrow at. This year, I was determined to change that. Que the most awesome birthday operation ever, provided by me...worst liar ever.

Friday, February 11, 2011

Friday Checklist Or Getting S*** Done

Morning Readers,

      What a glorious day. I woke up that was good. But it's Friday, and therefore, much cause for celebration. Tomorrow is husband's birthday, which means anticipation of a little more time to ourselves, and a calender of events that will hopefully knock his socks off (get your mind out of the gutter Readers). But more on that later. Today I have a few menial tasks to complete before I dive headfirst into relaxation.
     What to start with? Ah yes, I meant to document it yesterday, but it just so happens that my twins turned nine months old.  Success! I know quite a few mothers who refuse to breathe a sigh of relief or congratulate themselves, until the year mark, but I prefer to rejoice in the monthly triumph of keeping your children fed, mobile, and somewhat clean.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

The Woman Called "Dad"

Morning Readers,

     I'm not trying to brag or anything, but I have a scar I'm very proud of; its fading, pinkish hue and jagged edges suggest a Captain Quintish type of bravery. Alas, I can't attribute it to my exquisite shark-wrestling skills; I was more of a whale in the situation. No, this battle trophy represents my body(after nine months of waddling like a porpoise, enduring horrific back pain, and being excluded from the sweet pastime that is having a Gin and Tonic) triumphantly and unapologetically, birthing two, brand new human beings into this crazy world we call home. It just makes sense then that my daughter turned her beautiful face up towards mine this week, and babbled, "Da Da". ........................badmomsayswhat???

Monday, February 7, 2011

Talking Toys Predict the End of Days

Morning Readers,

     We're all going to die....maybe. OK' don't panic. I'd just like to take a little time out of your mornings to bring you a public service announcement that, unfortunately, should've been broadcast to the masses long ago. As it turns out, the Mayans couldn't have been more wrong....and not about those loin clothes and feathered headdresses they were so fond of.. I'm speaking, of course, of the end of the world, and it won't be coming in the form of earth shattering quakes, disastrous tsunamis, or fussy volcanoes. The toys. The toys will bring our downfall.

Thursday, February 3, 2011

They Say She's Got The Cabin Fever, Pop

Good Afternoon Readers,

     If you've ever spent hours and hours pondering it, I'd like to add my two-cents and say, most assuredly, that the Donner Party ate each other, not out of hunger, but out of pure boredom. Being snowed-in does that to people. I should know....Been at it all week. Don't get me wrong, the family togetherness has been oh so wonderful, it's just the lack of activities that's a bit frustrating. I've restrained myself from posting, for fear that I'd look back over the last few days and realize I hadn't so much shared humorous annecdotes, but rather, created a hideously boring almenac of snowflake growth and it's effect on the stability of my roof.