Monday, December 31, 2012

I'm Only Doing A Top Ten Because No One Thought of It...

I hired all three of them to stare at you until 2013.
Morning Readers,

I'm glad you're here. As it happens, I was deciding on whether to eat the twins' leftover pancake, or treat myself to something really special and eat an entire bag of mini doughnuts. But if I stop typing, I'll be eating. And if I'm eating, I'm not typing. So. Fine.

I'll be right back....

Ok, so you're probably here for the top ten list. I wasn't going to do it, but then I thought, "No, Paige. No. The lovely Readers, they stop by and spend their valuable time trying to figure out what the hell you mean most of the time. They deserve the best. Nay, the better of the best. Write that top ten list. Write it and don't look back."

Sorry, doughnut break. *sounds of intermission music*

Anywho, I read on the news that no one is doing a top ten list this year. Put down that Google. It's like you don't even trust me. So, like I was saying, no one's doing a top ten, therefore put on your party hats and lets party like it's 1999...

Which means I'll wait for my ride and poke at my braces until someone picks me up and I can go home and look at all my Hanson posters, while everyone freaks out about the end of the world brought upon us by ill-programmed computers.

After this doughnut.

Thursday, December 27, 2012

A Million Sticky Pieces

"Well, seeing as how Paper, Rock, Scissors turned out, I'll assemble the play kitchen, and you can finish putting the horse together."

Morning Readers,

Now that I have three kids, boredom seems to be my biggest problem. At least, I think it is. That's the only reason I can attach to what we bought for Christmas. Two days have passed, the gift wrap has settled, and I, thankfully still have things to fill my time. You can't imagine the huge relief, as I was just thinking to myself,

..."Woe is me. For there are several days left in this year, and I have nothing to occupy myself. If only there was something, SOMETHING, which would stave off the the loads of free time I find myself with while tending to these children. For, if I find myself with those ten free seconds in the bathroom, like I did yesterday, there needs to be something to fill the void."

And then Santa arrived and brought with him the answer.

Husband called to me. "What are you doing?"

Monday, December 24, 2012

Merry Christmas! ...a tiny bit early.

"We can either start wrapping presents for the kids, or finish this wine and work on reenacting 1978's Ice Castles. And a-one and a-two..."
Afternoon Readers,

Just popping in to say, "Hi." Then again, I'm sure all of you are out doing exciting things like tobogganing and harvesting maple syrup from your own trees, right before you head back to make corn husk dolls and eat roasted chestnuts. Uncle Dan will read A Christmas Carol for everyone around the fire, while Aunt Susan acts it out behind him, dressed in historically accurate Dickensian clothing. Which will make the fact she'll later offer shots of liqueur to the dog, even more awkward.

But, I can only guess at your holiday traditions, so forgive me if I got one or two of these wrong.

Tomorrow, I'll surely be too far buried under mounds of snowflake paper and half-eaten Reeses Santas, to check in, so this is where I shall wish you the merriest of Christmases. I usually don't wax very eloquent, so I'll leave you with my favorite words of the season, head to the fridge for more Evan Williams eggnog, and see you, my dears, after Christmas.

Friday, December 21, 2012

Well, Lace My Boots: A Victorian Letter to Santa Claus

"I wish Paige would stop dressing like a servant. I mean, we get it. No need to be dramatic."

Afternoon Readers,

Four more days and not a present wrapped, except for the presents I ordered gift wrapping for, which was about half, until I actually counted what I bought, and it turns out only about a third are gift wrapped... possibly only a fourth.

Does whiskey in the paper bag count?

One-third, it is.

Today, I'm taking a break from worrying about whether plastic grocery bags can slip by as "upcycled" gift bags if I sponge any dried milk off, to bring you my letter to Santa. My lovely friend over at Snarkfest tagged me in her letter to Santa, so I thought I'd take a little time to send a few, last minute requests.

I haven't written a letter in a while, so I'm assuming it should be in regular, old, Victorian format. We're proper here on the blog. Just in case you tied your corset too tight and forgot.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Send It by Certifiable Mail

"Good wives who make it to the post office and back get a cheek pinch. Who's my girl?"

Afternoon Readers,

Only six more days to Christmas, and the spirit of the season is starting to creep up on me. I'm not saying it's OK to sneak up on me. It's not.  I startle easily, have no bladder control left, and only keep one extra pair of pants on standby. They're not even pants. They're tights. And the sight of me in just tights is enough to ruin Christmas for everyone.

"Merry Christmas, Paige. Wait ....is she wearing sheer hosiery? On second thought, I'll just take my eggnog and go. Good day to you, mam. No, really. I think it'd be best for everyone if you didn't move." I'll show myself out."

I suspect Christmas spirit was what gifted me the courage to travel to the post office yesterday. Most people love being in a space the size of a shoebox, with only angry, tired people for company, but it's just never been my thing.

....I love stamps though. The stamps are what keep me coming back.

Monday, December 17, 2012

What is It?

"Well, it looks good, Susan. Just let me set down my tea cup, and we'll see if that "expired on" date meant business or not.

Afternoon Readers,

As a rule, I think the minute food turns purple, your culinary skills have probably taken a turn for the worse. Then again, if your culinary endeavors are already so sketchy your family sends a canary through the kitchen to make sure it's safe, purple food could be a sign of improvement.

Who knows?

What I do know is, when what stared at me from the Crock Pot began throwing out shades of plum, we were in trouble. Mainly because I wasn't cooking plums, and have never known how to cook a plum. And if I had, by some misfortune, been attempting to cook a plum, we all know it would've turned a sickly chartreuse.

The recipe seemed simple enough:

Friday, December 14, 2012

The White Elephant Kerfuffle ....and a giveaway!

Marsha daydreamed about what she'd get in the gift exchange. Would it be lint, or that box of mouse traps she'd always wanted?
Morning Readers,

Can you believe Christmas is only eleven days away? I can because I looked at the calendar and counted very carefully, using only my pointer finger and simple math.  But, besides printed numbers, the other thing that tipped me off to the upcoming holiday was the Christmas party Husband and I attended last Friday.

"They let you out?" You say.

"They did," says I.

Husband found a clean shirt. I grabbed a coat that buttoned. And we headed out for an evening of drinks, tiny cupcakes, and me gesticulating wildly at other adults. Honestly, I think people loved it. Who isn't positively smitten by someone who's obviously been in captivity for the last few months and just wants to show others how she matched her tights to her flats?

Thursday, December 13, 2012

Crafting Isn't for Everyone ...so come visit!

What, you love my Curtain Tie-back/Storage unit? I do too.
Morning Readers,

Just popping in to say I, along with scads

(Did she just say "scads"?)

of my blogger peeps, am over at Hollow Tree Ventures today, showing you some of the things you've never seen on Pinterest. Robyn's rounded up real things. Things that'll haunt you. Things that make real crafters say, "This is why we need licenses for glue guns."

So, head on over, and I'll see you back here tomorrow, for exciting tails of Christmas parties and White Elephant gifts...

Until Next Time, Readers!


Wednesday, December 12, 2012

A Special Edition of Finding the Funny!


Finding the Funny Holiday Edition

Morning Readers!

It's a very special edition of Finding the Funny! Today I'm teaming up with My Life and Kids, Kelley's Break Room and 14 more bloggers to bring you a special Holiday edition of Finding the Funny!

How to Link Up

Link up as many posts as you want - old or new - as long as they're related to the holidays and will make us laugh! Your post will show up here and on 16 other blogs! It's easy to link up!
  • Click on the "Add Your Link" button at the bottom of the page.
  • URL: copy and paste the URL of your blog post (be sure to use the exact post URL).
  • Name: enter the TITLE of your blog post - this is what will appear below your post picture. (Limited to 30 characters)
  • Enter your email address (don't worry - this won't be shared.)
  • Click on NEXT and choose an image that will appear in the link up.
  • Stick around and read the other posts and get ready to laugh!

Meet the Bloggers....

Monday, December 10, 2012

Butch and Sundance Meet Santa Claus

"So, Sundance, what you're saying is, if I bring you that miniature power tools set, it's ok because it'll give your mom things to write about? Seems legit."
Morning Readers,

Sometimes I think there aren't enough peanut M&Ms to get anything done, and then I find a 14oz bag, keep it to myself, and think, "Yes, today I'll be accomplishing incredible things. Downright amazing things."

-Segue alert-

Speaking of accomplishments...

(Whoa, how'd she do that? Lead into that topic, without us seeing it was coming?)

That's what all the great writers do, my friends. But, as much as I appreciate your questions, today isn't about me. It's about everyone's favorite dynamic, cowboy-monikered due, Butch and Sundance.

Friday, December 7, 2012

Christmas Trees and Toddlers: A Guide

Harold the Christmas Tree chatted casually with Gilda the taffeta curtain, blissfully unaware he was about to be stripped naked and strangled with his own tinsel.

Morning Readers,

Those of you who came to see if I left any PopTarts alive after breakfast this morning can leave. They're gone. They didn't put up a fight. They were delicious, slathered in nothing but the hope that all the calories evaporated, before they engaged my ever-flagging metabolism in one of the saddest duels in all of mankind's history.

The PopTarts were all like, "On guard."

And my body was all, "Meh. I surrender"

The rest of you may stay and learn why you should never have a toddler and a Christmas tree. What? You insist on having both?

Ok. Let me go get the extra PopTart I hid from you, and let's get started....

Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Digging Our Way to China

"Darling, the house is sinking."   ..."I know. I told you not to sit down on the couch too fast."

Ni Hao Readers,

I'm brushing up on my senior year, community college, "Intro to Chinese I" skills. Did I get an -A? Absolutely. Will it help when our house sinks through the ground and we have to beg someone to haul the Split-level out of their basement? No. I still don't know the exact phrasing for,

.."Sorry, we made a wrong turn, and have no idea how to patch drywall. Please accept the remaining Corn Nuts I didn't have a chance to eat before we landed on you. They're Ranch."

On Monday, the engineer showed up to inspect our abode. Right off the bat, I made him feel comfortable by letting the twins, clad only in diapers, lead him around the house, on a tour of sorts. If memory serves me correctly, I think I was the one originally leading the tour, but half-naked babies always seem to think they know what they're doing, and were quick to emphasis he was in their room and needed to watch them jump off something.

After thirty minutes of hemming and hawing in the kitchen while the more than patient man observed the Pottery-Barn-has-tea-with-Roman-Colosseum-Ruins-esque charm of the place, I received the full report:

Monday, December 3, 2012

The Two Ingredient Betty

"I made this cookie for you."    "It's a baseball, Marleen."   ... "And you wonder why I hate baking for you, Don."


Morning Readers,

I know why you're here. So enthralled were you by the Oreo Balls I told you how to make, on Friday, you're back for more fantabulous recipes. Anyone who's here to see whether our house has caved in yet, please come back on Wednesday.

Now then, December is the perfect time to share recipes. Not only is it festive and leaves you knee-deep in a thesaurus, trying to figure out what the heck a sugar plum is..

(and, sweet-Paula-Dean-In-a-Butter-churn, does anyone actually know?)

...it also gives those of us who loathe baking, a new, but certainly false, hope that, we too, love to put cream cheese out to soften, separate whites from yolks, and the task of trying to convince a chocolate Yule log that it does, in fact, want to Yule with the other Yules.

Friday, November 30, 2012

Merry Christmas: My Secret Recipe For Oreo Balls

"Sit down. Have some Oreo Balls. If I made them right, they should taste just like the aluminum tree."
Morning Readers,

The twins have got me running in circles today, so I thought this a great time to kick off the holiday season with one of my favorite recipes I originally shared with you last year. Next week, I'll have a new recipe for you, we'll find out if the Split-level has sunk through all the way to China, and I'll also be sharing tips on how to have a Christmas tree and toddlers in your house at the same time.

Enjoy!

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

We're Sinking ...Pass the Wine, So I Have Something To Hold On To

I wrote you a song. It's called, "You Ate So Much, the House Caved In."

Morning Readers,

I once read a statistic saying one-hundred-percent of houses tend to age at some point in their life.  And, I don't know about you, but I tend to take the inside of Dove wrappers very seriously.

I also take chocolate very seriously, so there's that.

Not surprisingly, the Split-level finally decided to age. From recent developments, I'm fairly confident it woke up one morning, looked around and thought, "Hmm, 1969 seems to be over. This place could use some cracks. Not actual crack. I'm not that type of house, but a few chasms, here and there, couldn't hurt."

And so it goes. This weekend, Husband and I did our part explaining to our family what seems to be the problem:

Saturday, November 24, 2012

Saturday Evening Special: An Angle's Worth A Thousand Words

World's best author/duck face. One which says, "I'm here. I write stuff. You stopped taking me seriously five seconds ago."
Evening Readers,

First off, I'm a little overwhelmed by the kind comments I received when I posted my Thanksgiving picture. You made a lady who's got stretch marks from the back of her neck to the tip of her toes feel pretty darn good.

However.

Please know, that picture was one of several tries. So, I thought it of great import, lest you think I'm some sort of one-take wonder who wasn't pressing her stomach in with her hands ...or, possibly making sure she wasn't photographing her belly from the side, to share some extras with you. After my little holiday photog experiment, I'm more than convinced, you always take a post-prego picture front and center.

Front and center, people.

But, make like Reading Rainbow and don't take my word for it. I present, "Paige and Husband's Photo Session: Thanksgiving 2012".

...or, as I also like to call it, "Are We Still Married After I Made You Do This, When All you Wanted To Do Was Watch a Movie? 2012".

Friday, November 23, 2012

What I Wore On Thanksgiving

Morning Readers,

Today I'm complying with a request from my lovely friend, Grace, over at Camp Patton. My sweet darlings, you know I'm not the biggest fan of taking pictures of myself, but, prompted by the courage coffee, a soundtrack of 50 Cent, and a few effects gifted from the awesome Pic Monkey, here it is.

...then again, you may all be out punching people in the face for the last of the Black Friday, dollar-fifty, mittens at your nearest retailer, so maybe none of you will see this.

Outfit:

Hair: Styled by the city's water supply

Feather Earrings: Spotted and bought off Pinterest (unsure what poor bird is currently flying lopsided)

Top/dress/tunic/frightening body garb being stretched to the limits: Forever 21

Sweater Tights: Target (stitched from the wool of one of the toughest sheep roaming the earth)

Boots: Steve Madden (upon reflection, would not have paired boots with this outfit and opted for black ones, but since I didn't look in the mirror before I left, thems the breaks. Also why Style Magazine has yet to offer me a job covering any fashion week ever.)

There you have it.

Now, get out there and shop bravely, my friends.

Until Next Time, Readers!




Wednesday, November 21, 2012

The Top Ten Things I Didn't Get To Be Thankful For This Year

"She says she's obviously not cooking this year, but you can come entertain the twins if you want."
Morning Readers,

I'm going to take a brief time-out from ironing my good leggings and giving a preliminary stretch to my Spanx, to wish you all the best for tomorrow. I'll be eating turkey and trying to keep the twins from hiding mashed potatoes in my Mother-in-law's heating vents.

But, before I sign off, I thought it'd be a good idea to mention everything I'm thankful for.

And then I thought about it for a while, and decided it would be better to mention everything I didn't get the chance to be thankful for.

No one ever mentions those things. Yet, here we are.


The Top Ten Things I Didn't Get A Chance To Be Thankful For In 2012

by

Paige Kellerman
(Someone who would've appreciated being grateful for at least one of these... hypothetically. None of them were tested, so she may not have wanted them at all. But she likes to think she would've. Is that a long enough introduction? Good. I can't think of what would be next. Stopping intro in 3..2...1 )

Monday, November 19, 2012

How to Fight With Your Spouse Without Them Knowing It

Milly had given Jeremiah the crazy eye the entire Christmas card session. Would he ever notice how upset she was? Or would more innocent daisies have to die, before justice was served? The carriage ride home was sure to be awkward.
Morning Readers,

This past week, a few things occurred to me. One, that I look great in chambray. And, two, I make it sound like I never fight with Husband.

Seriously, it's like the blue against my eyes wouldn't let me decide whether I looked like a young Bette Davis or a Young Joan Crawford from What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? Magical.

(Disclaimer: For those of you who are new here, I'm not that old, yet make references to things that are much older than I. Don't try to figure it out. Embrace it, give it a one-shouldered awkward hug and keep walking.)

Friday, November 16, 2012

A Penny Saved is Probably Someone Else's


Afternoon Readers,

I don't know what your financial plans look like these days, but I can tell you, we're starting to run out of space under our mattress. Not that there's a whole bunch of cash under there. Actually, it's a whole lot of IOU's with smiley faces I've drawn to myself. Sometimes I add hair and little corn cob pipes so they look like snowmen.

Fortunately, Husband and I aren't entirely broke. You may remember a while back when we met with financial planners for the first time. We realized we had five spare dollars and had heard about something called the stock market. They bandied about words like "retirement" and "bonds". I just kept screaming, "Put it all on black. Fast and loose. Fast and loose."

Progress was slow.

As it'd been sometime since I'd been truly confused about money or shiny folders with impressive logos on them, I decided to check in with the finance people and come to grips with what was going on. Unfortunately, our original financial advisers decided to move on. This left me explaining our expenses to complete strangers.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Merry Christmas, Stevie Nicks and a Giveaway

Morning Readers,

The Christmas I turned fourteen was probably my roughest, to date. There's no worst first world problem than not getting what you want on Jesus' birthday. Am I right or am I right? Children in the improvrished countries knew they wanted to eat. I knew I hated everything I got for Christmas and would show I had absolute disregard for anyone else's problems by curling up on the floor, under a blanket, and crying for the entire day.

That's what happens when you give a friend Stevie Nick's Greatest Hits, when she's fourteen.
That's what happens when the same girl gets a boat-neck sweater she didn't want.
That's what happens when socks are in abundance, but the girl was dumb enough to answer the question, "What do you want for Christmas, Paige?" with ...

..."Oh, nothing. Just World Peace."

Idiot.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

The Uninvited Guest Part III: Resurrection

Morning Readers,

Over the past few months, the Split-level has experienced its share of infestations: roaches, spiders, the time I was obsessed with Hall and Oats.

...it only took one incidence of me drawing a mustache on my face and singing "Sarah Smile", while careening around the front yard, barefoot, for everyone to agree it'd gone to far. And maybe, just maybe, I needed to go back to my fixation on Justin Bieber.

Who's single now, btw.

But that's a whole new blog post and a whole new set of what counts as "stalking laws" in the state of California.

Wednesday, November 7, 2012

The United States of Spandex

Superman ...championing America and spandex for as long as I can remember.
Morning Readers,

No matter what kind of mood you woke up in today, please know I heard your worries, and I'm here to allay your fears. Actually, I'm a little flattered you all were losing sleep over the state of my muffin top. But I'm here to tell you, as far as Kellerman politics were concerned, all my garments banded together in solidarity.

Last night, I was able to sneak out of the house and attend my first mother's group, a much-needed respite from the "I pooped myself"s and the "I pooped on my hand"s that've been trending around here lately. And it got me thinking. "Now that I have time to put together two, coherent thoughts, America needs to know what the political climate is like around the old Split-level these days.

....Also, this Gin and Tonic is delicious. I'm glad they didn't discontinue them while I was pregnant."

Saturday, November 3, 2012

On the Island of Misfit Pants

Evening Readers,

When I go out in public, I prefer to be awkward, not look it.  Trying to do both at the same time is way too much work, because I'm also extremely lazy. So, while I may accidentally look at you crosseyed when we first meet, please know that I've also taken the time to make sure my outfit, at least, matches and I've popped my collar to compliment my flats.

Whoa ....slow down, Paige. That's a lot of clothing Jargon.

Sorry, sometimes I stumble onto J. Crew's website and want to start using vocabulary like "Ruching" and "You want this because it's darted. Daaaarted."

Oh, and I love, "Pleat".

Pleat.

Anywho.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

And the Toddlers Shall Inherit the Earth

Morning Readers,

I'm probably the holiest person I know. And by that I mean my jeggings are splitting and there are giant holes in every bra I own. Saintly? Dear me, no. The only way I'm getting into heaven is if God gets busy settling in everyone else I know, and I slip St. Peter a fifty.

And St. Peter will say, "Just try not to call attention to yourself."

And I'll smile, duck in, and call over my shoulder. "You won't even notice me. I'm just gonna try and finish writing some blog posts that've taken me an eternity to write anyway."

And we'll both laugh at the clever implication of "eternity" in two different contexts, and pretend not to notice each other in heaven's giant lunch room.

Friday, October 26, 2012

An Upgrade in the Key of Leather

Afternoon Readers,

It's always a toss-up when I get something nice. Should I ruin it myself, right away, or hire someone else to do it? Both better options than the tedium of waiting for the kids or the dog to do it. Sometimes, late at night, when I'm alone and staring at the water spots on the ceiling, I fantasize about a lush lifestyle:

Matching place mats

Linen curtains blown ever so gently by the breeze coming off the ocean into our imaginary cottage in Maine

Decorative balls on every table

My corseted bosom heaving deeply as I recount to Husband how many lobsters I knocked unconscious for dinner that evening....

Tuesday, October 23, 2012

Night Terrors

Afternoon Readers,

I love being woken up in the middle of the night as much as every other person.

*A recent survey indicates every other person hates being woken up in the middle of the night*

There's just something about falling into a deep sleep, drool delicately flowing from the corner of one's mouth, which speaks of peace, class, and the sweet calm and isolation the pioneers probably felt before they were attacked by anything.

I was prepared to love my children. I wasn't prepared to have all my senses ransacked, all at once, by screams, which, to date, can only be described accurately by Stephen King, in his masterful work, Salem's Lot.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

Butch and Sundance Have Thoughts on Halloween

Morning Readers,

I'm about to fail as a mother.

*And the crowd laughs and cries in unison, "We know."

Worse, the twins are old enough to start noticing when I do that. For the past two years, they've been blissfully unaware I'm ill-equipped to raise children, especially when it comes to the holiday/craft department.

One of these days, they're going to ask me why they don't have any hand made ornaments with their newborn hand print lovingly pressed into it, the caption in permanent marker reading, "I made this because, unlike some people, I actually care about you."

But, this year, they're noticing things. I blame commercials because I do my best never to mention anything that requires me to pull out the hot glue gun and start maiming felt.

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Date Night Clearance

Afternoon Readers,

Four months. Not only is this the amount of time it's been since someone yelled, "Hey, lady. You look great in those yoga pants," and actually meant the person behind me, but it's also the amount of time that's passed since Husband and I've gone on a date. Well, it's actually been three-and-a-half months, but, by the time our scheduled night out gets here, we'll be rounding out four months.

Sometimes you guys are just soooo specific. Chill out.

Besides the obvious circumstance of birthing a new child, and previously being too wide to fit in any movie theater seat known to man, Husband and I haven't attempted to go anywhere on our own, for lack of clearance.

"Why didn't you just go out? You're adults." You say.

And to you, I reply, "Why do elephants gallop majestically through the Serengeti, by moonlight, with the wind whipping delicately through their tail hair?"

Sunday, October 14, 2012

And Sometimes They Hit and Run

Morning Readers,

I think, out of all types of luck, bad luck tends to benefit me the least. But, just because it's bad luck doesn't mean it's not so ridiculous, so highly unlikely, it'll find me staring into space and laughing into the flashing lights of fire trucks and police cars, and wondering at what point I cut Lady Luck off in rush hour traffic.

Because she clearly doesn't like me. Or, as I assume about most people who are mean to me, she must be jealous of the ease and grace with which I wear flip flops in winter.

My first mistake was to try and leave the house yesterday. Generally, if a stay at home mom leaves the house, the universe sends out a warning bell... a mother's attempting to exit the premises without children; someone stop her or make it completely unenjoyable so she'll retreat to whence she came.

Nature. Fate. Indentured servitude. It's all very complex.

Friday, October 12, 2012

Who Needs Worldly Possessions?

Afternoon Readers,

People often ask, "Paige, what's your favorite part of having kids?"

And I'll quickly smooth my three-day-old t-shirt, and reply, "Definitely having all of our worldly possessions destroyed, piece by piece."

Then they look at me and say, "That's your favorite part?"

And I say, "Oh, no... I'm sorry. That's actually my ninety-seventh favorite part."

And then they say, "Then why'd you say that, Paige?"

Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Why Moms Don't Exercise: The Multi-tasking Muffintop Conundrum

"I told you, Gertrude. It's step, step, grapevine, tendu. Pull yourself together."
Morning Readers,

I've never been a fan of working out. Mostly because I read a study that said people who work out tend to die at some point in their lives. Those are pretty risky odds to play. But, as I just had baby number three, and the fat around my waist keeps getting shut in the car door, I thought it was time to maybe I find some oldies to sweat to or else.

So, I bought a dvd, replicated Olivia Newton John's outfit from the Physical video, precisely, and my sweat band, matching wrist bands and leotard pressed "play" on an endeavor that was so terrifying to observe, I'd hung a sign on the door, "Do Not Ring, Unless In Search of Emotional Scarring ...if selling candy bars, please take dollar in mailbox."

Besides the fact exercise is extremely dangerous, I couldn't put my finger on why I'd been avoiding it for so long...

Sunday, October 7, 2012

A Column, A Little Bit of Shame and Unavailable Real Estate: the week in review

"Mom Shaming" ...we're just bringing attention to what you already suspected.
Morning Readers,

     This past week's been a little busy. Mostly because of kids, writing and social media. Mostly trying to find time to go to the bathroom.... Still trying to find time to go to the bathroom.

It's Sunday, so I'm sure you've got better things to do than read the blog, like church, breakfast with the family, or virtually anything that counts as an activity, but I thought I'd I'd give you a rundown of what went on this week...

...then I shall army crawl, ever so carefully, to the bathroom.

1.) First up, my new humor column hit the papers and created quite the stir. And by "stir", I mean other people besides my family read it and admitted it. I love all of you for humoring me.

2.) Myself and all the other fantastic mom bloggers over at Blogging While Mom got together and launched the "Mom Shaming" movement. For an in-depth and always hilarious explanation of what the whole thing's about, please see Robyn over at Hollow Tree Ventures.

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

A Tactical Guide to Hiding Underwear in Your Shopping Cart

"You didn't tell them you were buying underwear at Walmart, again, were you, my love?"  "Darling, you know I don't flaunt our wealth."
Afternoon Readers,

I'm getting ready to bake cookies. Not trying to brag. Just giving you a heads up where that giant mushroom cloud you'll see at lunch will be coming from. And the news people will say, "It was hideous, Linda. The neighborhood is radio active and covered in pumpkin. The area is virtually overrun with the orange and screaming. And now, here's Carl with the weather. Carl?"

But before I head to the kitchen, I'll go get some more coffee. Wait, I guess I have to go to the kitchen to do that. I almost got started with baking way earlier than I intended. Hold on, let me slow my pulse down to the canter of an obese pony...

Monday, October 1, 2012

What's Up, Doc?: Thoughts For A Blogger's Child

Afternoon Readers,

Tomorrow, Doc Holiday will be four weeks old. And I must say, I like him very much. You can never tell with a stranger, whether you'll like them or not, that is. Sure, he's my baby. I knew I'd love him, but, would I like him? Would he be one of those people who cut me off mid-sentence or borrow my stuff without asking?

In casual conversation, would I find myself saying, "Sure, the baby's great, but he uses all of our plan minutes and I finally found the gin bottle that went missing from the inventory, under his bed. Honestly, Marsha...it's getting out of control."

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Late Nights: Saying "Yes" to Justin Timberlake and "No" to An Inappropriate Relationship With Justin Bieber

"It's ok, girl. I know it's just the sleepless nights and lack of hair appointments. Those roots are fierce."
Morning Readers,

Probably the hardest part of having a baby is trying not to watch too much YouTube. The second is remembering not to let your strawberry ice cream melt next to the computer, because that stuff is super expensive if you don't buy the off-brand, "Tastes Just Like Strawberry, Sometimes".

And before you think my priorities are completely askew, I'm well aware the third hardest part is figuring out how to smuggle all those litte cups of tapioca pudding out of the hospital.

I'm not an idiot.

But, back to YouTube.

As my ice cream melted, and I listened to the sounds of Doc finally sleeping in his swing, I realized, too late, I'd been sucked into the plethora of videos I'd been using to keep myself awake. A decent dabbling in Maroon 5 had turned into an ugly corner, right into the intersection of Bieber Street and Questionable Way. And, as I watched his latest video, I realized something horrible;

Justin Bieber is trying to turn himself into jail bate....

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Secret Secrets, Confessed Confessions

Morning Readers,

Most people aren't fully prepared for the turning points in their marriage. The times when they discover one-sixteenth of their relationship is a complete lie. Sure, that leaves fifteen sixteenths, but that also leaves a constant conversion to fractions, and how can romance bloom if two people are constantly worried about where to move the decimal point?

It can't. Because math kills... and is also responsible for extremely low test scores for individuals just looking to get their English degree and not find out how long it'll take for Ted to swim eight pounds of coconuts across the Ganges, if he leaves Chatanooga on Christmas. Damn it, Ted. Did you even check to see if anyone needed that much coconut?

...but, I digress.

Friday, September 21, 2012

Breaking News: Stranger Talks to Woman. Woman Stares Like Idiot

"And what's your name, pretty lady?" ... "It's ham. But only if the owl calls at midnight."
Afternoon Readers,

It could be argued that I've been inside too long. Since my journey from the hospital, I've only made a couple trips out of the house. And only then, under the cover of night. When it's dark, no one asks you if you're six months pregnant and why you're drinking Seagrams out of a paper bag in the parking lot.

Everyone's a winner.

But, the lioness had to hunt for the family. And that meant going out in the daylight. The pizza wasn't going to going to deliver itself...or, it would've if I wasn't so cheap... and that meant guessing what people are wearing these days and trying to blend in with society.

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

The Tinting Effect

Afternoon Readers,

     Well, it's finally settled. Husband found a car, and I don't have to throw myself off a bridge from too much car-totaling drama. This is a huge relief, as I'd only found one bridge. And even then, the guy was all like, "Mam, please don't stand on the cart coral. This is Walmart. Not a rodeo."

After much searching, we happened up a little four door. Though newer, it has the same mileage as the last car, but won Husband over with its cleanly interior and visors that weren't missing. Admittedly, that was one of the first things that sold me as well. I gazed in awe, and stuck my head out the window. "Did you see the visors. Two of em' just waiting to block the sun."

Sunday, September 16, 2012

Caution: Whales Operating Vehicles

Morning Readers.

Usually, I find creative ways to waste our money, but my favorites, by far, are the ones where people do it for me. After all, who has time to hand out hundred dollar bills on street corners these days? I'll give you one guess who it's not. She has two thumbs and never buys a bra that's more than seven dollars.

...it's this girl!

 So, obviously, you'll understand how overjoyed I was when I got pulled over right before I gave birth.

As I rolled down the window, I adjusted my glasses and prominently displayed the side of my belly that'd readily show contractions or a foot trying to get out. Anything to make screaming, "Ripley, get off the ship," more convincing. "Good evening, Officer. Can I help you?"

Thursday, September 13, 2012

Morning, You Are the Ike to My Tina

"Today's post is brought to you by Insomnia. Because nothing says,"I think I'm dying," like Insomnia. Back to you, Paige."
Morning Readers,

I'm not sure if it's safe to blog if you've only slept for and hour and a half, but it was either that or begin weeping uncontrollably in the middle of the floor. At least, this way I get to publish content that devalues the internet a little more and saves me from having to wipe the first layer of dirt off the wood laminate...because it took a family effort to build that dirt. And when Hoarders finally shows up to film here, I want something that looks dull and un-waxed on camera, besides my face.

Last night, Doc Hoiliday decided he'd just stay up all night. I suspect this was because he couldn't poop. I can't hold this against him, as I've had this same problem, but it made for a long night of me staring into space, wondering when I won't look six months pregnant anymore, and listening to random Adam Levine songs, who, annoyingly, never looks six months pregnant.

And since he didn't father any of these children, I can never forgive him that...

Tuesday, September 11, 2012

How We're Doing...on a scale of one to ten

Morning Readers,

First off, thank you so much for all the well-wishes and words of kindness you've thrown our way; they're the only things I cling to while wandering half-blind around our house at three in the morning. I should probably start clinging to a flashlight, now that I think about it.

Doc Holiday has settled in. This means a.) I can sleep on my back again, and b.) never sleeping again.

...but if I could sleep again, it would so be on my back. *plops post-it into dreams and wishes box creaky from under-use*

It's been the general chaos of bringing a brand-new baby into the house, but the only real way to give you an accurate depiction of what the Split-level is like these days, is to give you the status report on a scale of one-to-ten:

Friday, September 7, 2012

Piper Bayard Shares: Success Tips From A Drama Dog

Piper would like you to meet Parker.
Morning Readers,

Today I have the pleasure of presenting a post by one of the best blogger friends anyone could have. She's witty, talented and can leap tall buildings in a single bound. She asked me not to mention that last part because then everyone would know she's a super hero, but I was all like,"Piper, they've gotta know sometime...also, it'll explain the tights and cape if they run into you."

I don't know where I'd be in the blogosphere without her. All I know is she's not allowed to stop being my friend...ever. *more nervous laughter...walks away with collar pulled up and sunglasses pulled down*

Take it away, Piper! ....


We got Parker from the Humane Society a couple months back when I had a feeling there was a dog waiting that would be a perfect fit for our family. Parker had been taken back twice because he doesn’t play well with others. He almost completely ignored us during our initial visit, and he was about twenty pounds overweight. Perfect, right? Yes. We saw it that way, too.

Once we got him home, we also discovered he was terrified of everything from the vacuum sweeper to the guinea pig to the staircase. But after three days and two pounds of ham to coax him up the stairs, he relaxed into a self-contained, happy pup that blended well with the family. And the best part? He didn’t seem to shed much at all.

Then came the bait and switch. We got back from our Vancouver Island vacation to find Parker had started to shed while we were away. In fact, it seemed to be his new mission in life.

In a heartbeat I had dog brush in hand and was calling our little fluff factory to the back door. But he would have none of it. Every time I stroked him gently with the dog brush, he yelped and snapped. I couldn’t even pluck away the loose tufts of hair without him acting like I was ripping off appendages.

So I had a bit of a dilemma on my hands. Traumatize the dog, or allow him to coat us and all of our belongings in his tresses?

My daughter, DD, and I decided to take Parker for a walk and contemplate the situation. While I glared at the dog and DD laughed about the matter, she started flipping the rope leash up and down along his hind end, coaxing off chunks of fuzz and leaving his tuchus looking like a topographical map of the Rocky Mountains. Parker was so distracted by all of the sights and smells around him that he didn’t notice.

That made me bold. Every time he stopped to sniff some marvelous delight, I ran forward and started grabbing out handfuls of hair. By the time we finished the walk, it looked like we’d shaved a bear on the path, and Parker didn’t notice or object once. Clearly, when it came to helping him shed, Parker was a drama queen. 

The next day, I took the brush with me on our walk and encouraged Parker to sniff every rock, plant, or animal trace we crossed as I left a trail of dog hair tumbleweeds to mystify joggers through the day.

I decided to push it and took him out on the porch at home and continued my work. Without a walk to distract him, he began yelping and snapping again, but this time, I knew I wasn’t hurting him so I gave him a firm ‘no’ and ignored his fussing. He soon settled down.

Now, Parker still hates brushing, but he tolerates it, and I don’t have to feel like a tribble every time I lie down on the couch. And the best part? After I took charge and told him to knock off the drama, he trusts me more than ever, and the new problem is not tripping as he  walks on my heels all day. 

Success lessons? Some fears are nothing but bad habits, and discipline will save the day when indulgence fails.

What does your pet teach you about success?

All the best to all of you for knowing when to take charge.

Piper Bayard–The Pale Writer of the Apocalypse

Until Next Time, Readers!

Thursday, September 6, 2012

Reporting Live: The Fat Eagle Has Landed...and a Winner!

Afternoon Readers,

I hope all of you are having a wonderful week not depending on pain killers. Unfortunately, this post has been sponsored by Percocet.

And our announcer says,

"Percocet....because you can't go through life completely unconscious. Back to you, Paige."

Anywho, now isn't the time for delivery stories, but I would like to congratulate the winner of this week's contest, Tracy, the owner of the hilarious and fantastic blog Logy Express for her guess of a ten pound baby boy. Tracy, I'll be sending that Amazon gift card your way very shortly.

Everyone, Doc Holiday was born on 9/4/12, weighing in at a whopping nine pounds and seven very fat ounces. He's so fat, I'll have to share a picture later on, just so you believe me.

In the meantime, just know that I miss you all and will be back to the blogosphere soon. Look forward to another fabulous guest post tomorrow. I have to go feed this baby a gallon of formula and try to reach the ice cream I stored way too far away from my bed. Percocet tastes great with ice cream.

Until Next Time, Readers!

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Robyn Presents: Early Days With Baby

Morning Readers,

As you know, I'm currently in a drugged-induced happy place with the new baby...gender and weight to be announced when I get back (you can still guess at that, here, until the end of the week) ... but you clicked on the blog, right? You say, "Paige, I'm glad you gave birth, but I'm here to read something funny and not about you developing a potential dependency on prescription drugs and free Jello." Right?

Lucky for you, I've dragged Robyn from Hollow Tree Ventures over here and made her write something funny. Because she wanted to. And because telling someone you're watching them from the bushes gets them to do pretty much anything you want because they think you might be stalking them...kidding... *lots of nervous laughter* End scene.

So, as a special treat, I hand the blog over to one of my favorite blogging friends, and soon to be yours, Robyn Welling... take it away, Robyn!

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Happy C-Section Day!

Morning Readers,

In about a half an hour, I'll be going where no man has gone before. For all you men who've had a c-section, please inbox me and I'll apologize when I get out of the hospital. Time to go over the final checklist before I head in:

Starving because I wasn't allowed to eat after midnight? Check.
Horrible cold that the twins gave me twenty-four hours ago? Check.
Bag packed with stuff I'll be too out of it to use? Check.
Ninety-percent of leg hair shaved so I don't terrify surgeon? Check.
Ready to have this baby so I can scream down the hallways, "More pudding, now."

Yep, Husband and I are off to bring the world yet another Kellerbaby. Will it be an Annie Oakley or a Doc Holiday? Guessing's still open here, and the competition's fierce. My Readers are some seasoned vets who know what a baby should weigh, down to the ounce. Good luck to all!

And with that...

Until Next Time, Readers!

Saturday, September 1, 2012

Guess Kellerbaby's Weight and Win a Prize: Another Saturday Evening Post

Jean the Genius says, "I think it'll be smaller than a pony."
Evening Readers,

Zero hour is only two days away. Our newest edition will be evicted on Tuesday morning, rain or shine. To make things interesting... as if this blog isn't the most fascinating thing you've ever seen...it's not?...I know... I've decided to run a contest.

Goal: Guess Kellerbaby's gender and weight.

The person who comes closest wins a 20.00 giftcard to Amazon.

Now, I know this is an astronomical amount of money. So I can understand if you want to keep this announcement to yourself and not share with your neighbors, but feel free to tell a friend. "But, Paige," you say. "I could potentially buy eight pairs of socks, five used copies of an Ace of Base album, or exactly one ton of streamers for my next party. I must keep this to myself."

And I say, you know in your heart what's right.

Feel free to leave your guess and email in the comments. Also, I'll only accept guesses that name an actual weight. Any submissions stating, "I think it won't be a tiger and weigh more than a quarter, you will be disqualified.

...not because I don't like tigers. You're missing the point.

I'll have this contest open until I get back from the hospital, so feel free to guess away. The winner will be announced when I pull myself out of the drug-induced haze I'll have been operating in for no less than seven days.

And just in case you're worried, I did check with Husband to make sure we could afford the gift card. He said, after the second mortgage paperwork is finalized, we should be able to swing it. Minor details to be sorted out with our broker by the time I send the prize to the lucky winner.

Just a lot of "Sign here", "Sign there," blah blah blah.

Until Next Time, Readers!

Thursday, August 30, 2012

What You Packin'?

"Sick? No, the water bottle just helps me deal with all the great ideas you have while I'm pregnant."
Afternoon Readers,

I think it's only healthy to encourage one's husband to seek out hobbies. After all, I think, between detailing the bottom of the toilet and folding everyone's underwear, another hobby would be too much for me. Then again, if the budgeting works out in my favor this month, I think I might just jump on that Paint By Numbers course I saw they're holding at the Senior Center.

But, that's only if I'm good and don't burn all my "me time" on killing spiders in the laundry room.

So, when Husband said he'd like to join a skeet shooting team, and practice once a week, I couldn't say "no".
Shooting is manly.
Shooting is a skill.
Shooting says, "I can protect this family if the need arises. Like zombies, or a Nickelback concert gets setup too close to our house."

So, naturally, when Husband got home last night from his first session, the one thing I expected him to say was,

...."I need a fanny pack."