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."

Eviction Notice: A Letter to the Newest Kellerman

Afternoon Readers,

     Things have gotten dire around here. A piece of advice... If you're ever nine months pregnant and ridiculously tired because you can't sleep through the night, and then you happen to fall asleep on the couch instead of keeping the closest eye on your twins, don't bother to go look why they've been so quiet.

Because, you don't really want to know they've taken everything out of their closet, stripped out of their diapers, and started painting a random bottle of baby lotion all over everything. You don't. You roll back over and dream you have different children who are teaching themselves to read and sewing new drapes for their room.

Saturday Evening Post

Not our actual van... Just in case you were all like, "I want that."

Evening Readers,

Continuing my latest tradition of posting completely off schedule and at random times, I'm just popping in to say nothing else has broken in the last twenty-four hours...including my water. By the way, to those of you who've offered to send alcohol gift baskets to the hospital, may the Lord bless all your houses. To the rest of you, don't be shy.

You're asking yourself, "If I send an alcohol gift basket to the hospital, will Paige think I'm implying she has a problem?"

The answer is, "Yes." The other answer to that question is "Please enjoy the honey-baked ham, gift cards and Best of Bing Crosby I send you for Christmas."

At this point, my brain is mush, so, I shall leave you with a small list of things you should know:

Checking In

Afternoon Readers,

And now, a status update as to where the Kellermans are right now...

Baby: When asked what plans he or she had for arriving, Baby Kellerman was quoted as saying, "Probably never."

Van: New van bought. Paige's thoughts on this include... "You're kind of like that first roommate I had in college. I know nothing about you, and have no idea who you are or where you came from, but please don't crap out and leave me with an even worse roommate."

From Bad to Worse

Morning Readers,

     You know what they say, "When life totals both your cars, make lemonade." They don't? You can't make lemonade out of a car?

Well, Paula Dean and I are gonna have to have a little talk.

By now, all of you know that the new van we bought a couple of weeks ago was fatally love-tapped by another driver. What you don't know is life doesn't seem to have much regard for our personal property right now, and came back to claim anything else that may be drivable in our house.

Call from Husband on Saturday: "Hi, umm...I'm sitting on the side of the highway."

The Life and Death of Bessy Lou

The Deceased (If she hadn't been run into and lived in Texas instead of Kansas City) 2004-2012

Morning Readers,

We gather here today to set down our Saturday morning Coco Puffs and Phineas and Ferb to remember a brave soul who's passed from this world and gone to be parted out in the giant, Japanese junk yard in the sky.

You see, she was so young. So virile. So only half owned by us. And yet, she was loved.

I was extremely quiet on social media yesterday if only for the reason I needed time to process the news.

"Hello, Mrs. Kellerman?"

"I suppose. But "Mrs. Kellerman" sounds so old. I prefer Gidget McDancybeach."

If You Loved Me, You'd Notice Obscure Labors of Love

Morning Readers,

The one thing I love most about Husband is how he's always looking for ways to compliment me. The one thing I love most about myself is how I'm always offering him opportunities to compliment me. On our first date, he looked straight in my eyes and said, "You're really cute."

I set down the shovel I was using to re-locate fries to my talk hole and whispered back. "I love you too."

"Well, I didn't say love."

"No, but you meant it."

To Train A Potty

Morning Readers,

I had my morning all planned out yesterday: Have maid cook breakfast, advise Rodolfo I could only have a thirty instead of sixty minute massage, read for an hour, look for the Sarah McClachlan "In the Arms of the Angels" commercial because I finally want to donate to save hairless cats, and then blog. You noticed I didn't include my Monday morning sponge bath, but we're still trying to fill that position after the last person stopped showing up or returning my calls. At least I don't have to explain the screaming to the neighbors anymore.

Nope, yesterday the sun rose and was all like, "Your kid wants to be potty trained."

I shook my Aldi-brand coffee at it. "No, she doesn't. She told me she wanted to wear diapers until she's twenty and no longer financially dependent on me. You think the people over at Depends make adult diapers for fun?"

House of Horrors

"I need to get some sleep. I'm so delirious, I don't even know who you are. Just that you have a mustache and wear an ascot and I agreed to have children with you."

Afternoon Readers,

     My mother has a saying, "I'll sleep when I'm dead." I used to laugh at her, but she's still alive and I've yet to see her go to sleep. I know, now, mothers aren't meant to sleep. So, I, too, shall welcome the Grim Reaper when he shows up with my sleep number mattress and black silk pajamas. Death, you shall be sweet and filled with feather pillows. As you know, we haven't been sleeping much, thanks to the twins never wanting to sleep.

We finally did something about it.

Letter from the Editor: Guest Posting at My Life and Kids

"So, Anna, if I can't talk about fungal infections or any of my five-hundred-plus insecurities, what DO you want me to talk about?"

Morning Readers,

     I'm glad you took the time after your delicious bowl of Cracklin' Oat Bran to come see me, but, today, I'm over guest posting for my friend, Anna, at her fantastically wonderful blog, My Life and Kids. I love Anna. She's the type of person who will brush her teeth and eat Oreos at the same time, just to please an audience. The quality I look for in a friend.

She also wasn't afraid I'd burn her blog down, so there's that. Even though I explicitly said, "I might burn your blog down."

And she was all like, "Please don't."

We joke.

Anywho, if you'd like to come visit and learn how I make meth my own cleaning products off Pintrest, please do. ----------->

Otherwise, I'll be back tomorrow.

Until Next Time, Readers!

Jury Duty

Morning Readers,

     I hope you all had a great weekend. I would've checked in yesterday, but I was too busy going through security and having them wonder how the bottom of my hobo bag was successfully holding two pounds of Skittles, which had fallen out of the package during the rental car debacle. "No guns today, sir. Just a magical rainbow turning this cheap white, possibly fake, leather into a delicious side-walk sale prism."

And if you're wondering why I didn't dump them out before I headed to the courthouse, it's because I still plan on eating them. Which I did, discreetly, while I was briefed on the judicial system of our great state.

"Oh, you want me to decide someone's fate based on my unbiased and mentally competent opinion? Hold on. Let me just get this blue raspberry from under my driver's license. Carry on."

Kid Free! ...now what?

Unsure what to do now that the kids were gone, Constance decided she'd take a crack at the LSD recipe she'd found on Pintrest.

Afternoon Readers,

     Another week gone by and while the bathtub has kindly stayed in the bathroom, the van has me wondering exactly what type of black market parts we're going to have to pay for to get it road-worthy again. If things don't stop breaking, I may never get this ship back on schedule, and will proceed to bother you every Saturday until you have to cancel your internet to enjoy the weekend.

Because it's not like you'd unsubscribe to the blog. Audience poll says... "Paige who?"

The big news today is that the twins have been kindly taken to Grandpa's, and that leaves me with no one to complain about. Husband and the dog are napping. So you can see what that does for blog content. It's all fun and games until no one's doing anything I can turn into a good story about feeling sorry for myself. So inconsiderate.

And Then We Broke It

"Yeah, Patty. We just got a report that someone ran into some else's car door. Responding as soon as we find our car door. Over."

 Afternoon Readers,

I don't think you can fully prepare your children for prison, unless you use the precise combination of swear words that will gift them the vernacular they'll need to avoid getting shanked. Lucky for me, I was given one of those rare teaching opportunities this morning. Parenting fail? Perhaps. But, if there were any other way to navigate what we had to do, without dropping serious verbage, no one bothered to rip that page out of the Parenting Guidebook, Modge Podge it to a board, and Pintrest it where I could find it.

In short...someone ran into our new van yesterday. No one was hurt. Van not looking so good.