Poor Me.

I'm gonna whine for just a minute.

It has been one heck of a week. It was the first week of school. Both girls have colds, so we've only managed to squeeze in a lesson here and there between long bouts of laying on the couch, sneezing everywhere and a constant flow of nasal mucous.

My basement flooded, and I've been dealing with slightly rude flood clean-up guys for the past four days. They keep saying they're going to be here at a certain time, and they don't show up. It's finally cleaned up and put back together, but it was definitely a hassle. And the chemicals from the carpet cleaner give me a headache.

I'm supposed to be having a yard sale this weekend. The ad is already paid for, so I can't back out. That means there is junk piled high all over my house, awaiting the sale on Saturday. Junk and clutter irritate me. And of course, the Two Little Girls keep pulling things from the yard sale pile, trying to negotiate with me about selling them. I've now got the yard sale piles covered with sheets.

My dog - who is fully potty trained and has always been reliable - has pooped in the basement twice, and peed on my bed, and all over the kitchen.

Added to the toddler that still keeps pooping in her underwear and occasionally peeing wherever she happens to be standing, I am SO done cleaning it all up.

Two Little Girls are usually pretty well behaved and get along beautifully. Today, they have been replaced by Satan's spawn. Snotty attitudes, fighting and arguing and yelling, talking back and refusing to do anything I ask them to. Let's all pray tonight that Satan takes back his spawn and returns my sweet children.

I bought fifty pounds of peaches this afternoon at farmer's market, because I'd promised the farmer I'd be there this week to do so. Every time I walk into the kitchen, those fifty pounds of peaches are staring at me, taunting me, reminding that I'm crazy.

My birthday is only two days away, and birthdays depress me. Thinking about being Closer To Thirty kind of makes me want to cry.

Alright, I'm done whining. When the peaches are canned and the yard sale is over and I'm Closer To Thirty, when the snot stops running and Two Little Girls remember how to behave, and when I find a way to keep all the excrement contained, I'll feel much better.

So just in case you were wondering, life's not always perfect here, either. :o)

Not Me Monday

I realize how pathetic it would be to take pictures of every single garden harvest, so I promise, I don't!



Because really, if you've seen one kohlrabi, you've seen them all. Right?



Spending my precious time laying vegetables out on a table to just take pictures? Pshhhh. Who's got time for such things?



If I did take pictures of every harvest - which I don't - my hard drive would be bogged down with pictures of vegetables. But it's not, I swear.

It's not me that randomly snaps photos of a meal I'm cooking, just because it's all self-provided and that makes me a little bit giddy inside.

Elk stir fry with sugar snap peas, carrots and broccoli.

And there's certainly not a red stain from beet juice on my camera because I didn't wash my hands before taking pictures of vegetables while I was chopping them...

I just couldn't get over how cool the insides all looked as I was chopping them.

And to be certain, let me assure you that there are not more pictures of vegetables than there are of my children in all the month of June... gosh, that'd be an embarrassing illustration of the priorities in my life, wouldn't it?

But they were the first turnips I've ever harvested!
How could I not take their picture?

The bitches are coming! - Not Me Monday

I won't deny the part about Chloe riding her stick horse down the hall calling, "The British are coming! The British are coming!" That part absolutely did happen.

But I swear a two year old wasn't following her down the hall, galloping along and calling "Bitches are comin'! Bitches are comin'!" Nope, not my sweet Littlest One. That wasn't her.

And I certainly didn't tell her to say "The British are coming!" fifteen times today just for fun. Because it wouldn't be right to find humor in such juvenile things as mispronounced words.

Nope, not me. :o)

Not Me Monday

As I was driving out of the parking lot at Target, I did not scream and slam on the breaks when I discovered an enormous spider - in a web - next to my steering wheel in the van. (How on earth did a spider get into the van to begin with, let alone have time to fabricate a fancy little home for itself next to my steering wheel?)

So of course, when the van was stopped, I didn't stop and get out and stare hopelessly at the spider and wonder how we'd ever get home. I definitely didn't look around for a man to come and help me because, afterall, I'm a proud woman who doesn't need a man's help with such things... right? And I certainly didn't drag my six year old out of the back seat and give her a piece of toilet paper and instruct her to do away with the creepy, leggy thing. She's a six year old girl for heaven's sake. She shouldn't have to kill bugs for her mama!

In the end, it wasn't me that ended up using a kid's book to smash the little booger into oblivion on the dash board while I let out a high-pitched shriek. C'mon now, I'm more mature than that.

Not Me Monday!

*It wasn't me that encouraged my six year old to invite herself to stay for a sleepover and Grammy's house. That would indicate my desire to be without her, and that would make me a Bad Mother.

*I didn't break down in tears when, once again, my husband was called in to work on one of his very few days off. I wouldn't want to make him feel guilty for all those hours he works, afterall.

*It wasn't me that did a silly little happy dance right in front of my children when I found we actually have a zucchini growing in our squash patch. That would be immature.

*It wasn't me that told Cora there was a big bee outside just so I wouldn't have to deal with the door opening and closing and opening and closing all afternoon.

I can't think of anything else to deny right now, I must be pretty innocent this week. :o)

Not Me Monday

It was NOT ME that threatened to write a letter to the tooth fairy telling her not to bother coming to our house any more because Chloe would obviously never be pulling her loose tooth. That would be mean.

It was NOT ME that put my six year old in charge of entertaining my one year old by feeding her conversation hearts while I locked myself in the bathroom in the middle of the day to take a steamy hot bubble bath. After all, what kind of irresponsible mother would do such a thing?

It was NOT ME that breathed a sigh of relief when Ashley said she couldn't go to the gym today, and enjoyed a workout in peace and quiet and solitude.

It was NOT ME that got seriously irritated with a kid that refused to wear what I picked out for her. How petty would that be?

It was NOT ME that went to Wal Mart at 6 am on Valentine's Day to buy candy for my children. Only a very unprepared mother would do something like that.

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Last night around 9 pm, right before I went in bed, I heard tremendously loud bass coming from a car outside. I stood up and looked out the dinner. I watched as two people got out of the car that they had parked on the street in front of my house, empty a bunch of trash into the street, and drive off. Seriously, who does that? Nothing irritates me more than having to clean up someone else's trash. I fascinated by how rude people are.

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Another way to sneak in reading for Chloe (not that it needs any sneaking at this point): Webkinz Chat. They have to pick phrases from a list, so there's no creepy porno stuff going on. She has to read all the phrases to decide what she wants to say. Love how well this kid is reading.

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Cora is officially throwing temper tantrums. OMGoodness, Chloe's not even out of the tantrum stage, and there's another one coming into it? I just don't know if I can handle this! Things like not being allowed to play outside while it's spitting snow and 25 degrees out, or not being allowed to eat any more Valentine's candy, or not being allowed to beat the cat upside the head with a wooden recorder.... such silly little things that set her off! And she screams and throws herself down or faces a wall and cries like there's no tomorrow. At this age, it's almost cute (but I won't tell her that.) I see the warning lights flashing: "Terrible Twos Ahead!" Aye aye aye.

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I'm a planner. I am always prepared. Nothing sneaks up on me that I'm not ready for.

OMGoodness, we're leaving for Mexico in ONE WEEK. How on earth did it get here so fast?! I'm not ready! I don't have my lists for Noelle finished. I don't have my entire wardrobe planned out. I need to clean the house, shop for groceries, book some tours, print some documents, pack our clothes and everything else.... how did this happen? Oy. Panic.

We're flying on AeroMexico airline. They fly all over the world - Europe, Canada, South America, you name it. And ya know what? The economy class flight to Mexico is the ONLY flight in all of the WORLD that is only allowed ONE piece of luggage. Ugh! How on earth am I supposed to pack only one flippin' suitcase for six days in Mexico? And it can only weigh 50 pounds. I'm taking nine pairs of shoes - those alone probably weigh half that.

I raided Ashley's closet this morning. I'm thankful to have a friend with good fashion sense, since I have none. She'll be coming over this week to play audience at my "fashion show" and give me advice.

Now seriously - who really cares what I wear? When did I become so early? Not long ago, I owned only three pairs of shoes. Now I can't leave home without at least nine pairs, and that's pushing it. Dresses, skinny jeans, boots, necklaces, scarves, hats, swim suits..... it's crazy. I'm so not like this. Or at least, i didn't used to be. But I have to admit, there's something fun about girly stuff every so often. :o)

And seriously, there's no way my husband will come up with 50 pounds worth of clothing to pack. I'm sure i can put some stuff in his suitcase.

Then there's the matter of what we end up buying while we're there....

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to my Life Makeover buddies - come gimme some input and some comments on the Life Makeover Blog.

Not Me Monday

I'm jumping on the "Not Me Monday" bandwagon.

*It was NOT ME that encouraged a toddler to play with markers unsupervised so that I could have 20 minutes of time to myself.

*It was NOT ME that carried said toddler through Wal Mart like a football while she screamed her little head off while people stared and made assumptions about my less-than-saavy parenting.

*It was NOT ME who decided Bribery With M&M's is a perfectly acceptable parenting technique and have begun to use it frequently.

*It was absolutely NOT ME who made my husband feel guilty for working away from home for so long, since it's not at all his fault and after all, at least he even has a job.

*It was NOT ME that drank half a bottle of wine after a visit with my in-laws last week, and the other half the next night with no good excuse at all.

*It was NOT ME that uttered several curse words upon seeing a yellow jacket outside yesterday. For heaven's sake, it's 45 degrees out! You'd think they thought it was summer.

*And it was definitely NOT ME who walked to the grocery store yesterday in a tank top because after all, it was 45 degrees, which means it's practically summer. ;o)