Dixie: Melody! what if I was you and you were me?
Melody: Then I would be in trouble a lot more and you would love mommy a lot more.

Yeouch.

Melody: Fruit flies are mean!
Mommy: No, they aren't! They don't scratch the paint on your car or call you 'Meanie, meanie! Hot dog weenie!" They don't kick your dog.
Melody: Well, they might kick your dog, but their little legs are so tiny that you'd never know.''


Dixie just announced to a friend, "Come in! We're watching Snow White and the Seven Dorks!"

There's a problem with my new bed

I know I mentioned getting a new mattress, but I didn't give you the lowdown on it. We didn't just get a mattress, we got the most spectacular somnambulatory surface in human history.

I was starting to develop mattress-testing fatigue after laying on dozens of mattresses in a half dozen stores. After awhile, my notetaking became meaningless and they seemed to simply fall into three categories: yeouch, meh and ahhhh. But with so many factors to compare and so many discrepancies between my preferences and Dowlan's, this was not going so well. Anything we both liked was crazy expensive. Our mattress budget of $600 wasn't exactly cheaping out, either.

I stopped into a Mattress Firm I found in the parking lot between JC Penny's and IKEA on a whim. I tested their affordable mattresses and found them mostly meh, then saw a queen-sized showroom model Sleep Number bed 70% off by the front door.

Those puppies are expensive, just in case you'd wondered, and even at that steep a discount it was over our budget by more than $200. Since we'd budgeted about that much to buy a new bed when we decided to go up a size, a quick cellphone call home to Dolie brought us to the determination that, for this good a deal, that sucker can go on the floor.

The kid (and husband) love having a bed with remotes. I love having the ability to adjust my half to whatever pain levels and locations I'm dealing with that day. The first two nights on it, I slept close to 12 hours. I haven't felt this good in a long time. I'm actually having a lot of dreams now that I'm not as interrupted in my sleep.

The only problem? Neither of us wants to get out of bed anymore. It's making it really hard to get to school and church on time. It feels that good.

Halloween time!

We have a finished duck, materials for a Larry Boy and a princess request. Princess Dixie changes her mind every third day, so I'm holding off purchasing until we absolutely have to.

First Halloween party is next Saturday. We're only hitting 3 this year, so we're slowing down substantially. Since I have a cold and four jobs in the next two weeks (tutoring, catsitting, afterschool care and scoring) this could get interesting.

He at least has wonderful manners

This morning, Charlie had the hiccups. And after ever single 'hyup!' he said, "Excuse me!"

Charlie: I am a doctor. You need a bandaid. Melody: See that brown thing? It's a scab. It's a Bandaid God gives you

Offending my friends, one status at a time

After reading several articles and threads on what type of Facebook Friend to NOT become, I was inspired.

I had no idea people were so annoyed by their 'friends' but did not let this deter me and made it my mission in life to commit every possible offense today. Obviously, there were a few limitations. Always aware of my audience, I was not going to do anything wholly offensive like discuss sexual experiences, go overboard with profanity, make racial comments or talk about anything as controversial as if I think Obama should have won the Nobel Peace Prize.

I started off with a everyone's favorite: body functions. I warned my friends as to what was in their future, as I am a good friend.

Post #1: Gretchen just read a lengthy list of things people find annoying in a Facebook Status. My goal in life today is to violate every guideline given. I'll start with, "Last night's high fiber snack left me feeling cleansed and refreshed this morning!"

Then I tried my hand at FaceBoasting with Post #2: Back from a morning of serving God! It's a shame you couldn't all be there! Then had a lunch date with my perfect in every way husband and went organic grocery shopping so that I might nourish my brilliant children as superiorly as possible after I pick them up from private school!

One motto I live by is "Motherhood: it's a competition!" and I incorporated that into Post #3: back from picking up my precious daughters. The private school day is over, now time for unschooling--where the real learning happens! Today, we'll study appropriate interactions with peoples with differences and the literary concept of anthropomorphism.

Yeah, we watched Snow White.

Vaguely passive/aggressive status updates make everyone crazy, right? Post #4: can't believe how people conduct themselves. Why would anyone say that?

Even better are the vaguely passive/aggressive status updates that are clearly pointed toward one's spouse and make it really awkward when you see them at social gatherings. In the interest of keeping it clean, I limited the parameters of Post #5 to say: I thought being married would mean I was never lonely again . . .

That one doubles up as a pathetic cry for help, designed to get your friends to all sit around and support you while spouse-bashing, even though they have absolutely no idea what is going on in your marriage.

You know when you need your friends most in life? When making the simplest of life choices, inspiring Post #6: wonders what she could make for dinner. Also whether she should begin her next series of steps with her left foot or her right. Or if breathing out every time you breathe in is overrated.

How did I ever handle life decisions before I had Facebook friends?

So far, they're just annoying. On the brink of offensive, but mostly just uncomfortable. I decided to kick it up a notch with Post #7: Gretchen xxxx is driving and Post #8: Gretchen xxxx is off to church to worship God. He loves to see me there . . . He loves you, too . . . and forgives you.

Then there are Friends With A Cause (and without a concept of basic grammar) who inspired Post #9: WANTZ TO DEDICATE HER STATUS 2 THE ENVINROMNNETAL MOVEMENT. IF YOU AREE, COPY AND PASTE THIS N2 UR STATUS 2DAY. u can make a differenece! even the little things help . . . Y use 6 squares of TP when 4 will do?

Because no True Believer would ever limit their pushiness to a single status, I followed through with Post #10: I DONT THINK U GUYS ARE GETTING IT. AMERICAN TOILET PAPER IS DRAINING THE WORLD'S RESOURCES. DON;T SQUEEZE THE CHARMIN, YALL.

Then I crammed in a wee bit more TMI with Post #11: My armpits stink. I mean, really, REEEEALLY stink. If you were thinking of dropping by my house tonight . . . don't. Post #12 also gave people something to think about that they did NOT want to think about: Kids are asleep. Time for the grownups to play!

I then took a stab at being the Town Herald. Post #13: OMG BREAKING NEWS! that wrestler guy that always wore the hawaiian shirts. Lou something. You know, the one with the facial hair in that video by tina turner. or was it cyndi lauper. wll, you know who i mean. HE'S DEAD. CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT? rmemebr you, read it hear frst@!

I realize that this is getting long, so I'll try to sum up Posts #14-#20. I briefly considered joining every mafia and/or farm game to provide updates on every square of corn planted, chicken milked and hit made, but decided instead to completely fill anyone's home page with the results of games (11 million on Chain Rxn) and quizzes (I had a 69% accuracy on naming venomous snakes). I also learned that my Japanese name means 'kind blessing' while my Korean name means 'brave one' and which Spice Girl I am. Yup, you guessed it: Scary Spice. Fine, as long as I'm not Old Spice. The Super Mario Brothers powerup I need is Fire Power and choosing the third option on every question brought someone to the conclusion that Autumn is my season.

No internet interaction can be complete without a chain letter/death threat. Post #21: Hello my name is Louie Byer.Now that you have read my name yo cannot get out.In school i was the misfit.Everyone would beat me up or make fun of me.I died from somebody beating me up a little to hard. Now i seek revenge. Send this post to 5 others or... i willshow up at your house at 3:00 am to kill you...i will come out of the closest mirror tonite.Don't believe me? Well to bad for you you may be the first to die.

I decided that it was time to give it a rest, signing off with Post #22: and thus concludes my attempt to commit every conceivable facebook status offense (that doesn't involve joining a Mafia) with the exception of lurking and never posting, so I'll try that one out tomorrow. I hope you are all inspired, or at least amused enough to not de-friend me.

Holed up sick: day 3

With everyone sick, I have no hope of getting this place clean. To help matters, we didnt get the dumpster out last week and the trash is taking over the kitchen. At least it is now in large black bags, but it is drizzling outside so we cannot take them out to the porch. Instead, I'll collect random conversations to share:

Dowlan: Do we have any money in the bank? I want to buy a nut milk bag.

Dixie: I do a LOT of Satan things.

Melody: thumbs give out germs, so never eat a thumb.

Dixie: I'm having Schrodinger practice to take care of an egg for when his wife has an egg he can help.
Me: Honey, kittens don't lay eggs.
Melody: Yeah! they lay kittens.

At one point, the girls were having a contest to see who can hold their breath the longest. I'm encouraging this, if only because they can't speak while holding their breath.

I told the girls, "For the love of Jesus Christ and all that is holy, stop jumping on me!"
They told me I was being rude to Jesus.

Later, Dixie came out of time out, sad that she did not have a puppy to toss.

There were highlights of the day, though. Like candy-corn manicures:


Tomorrow is a school holiday. I hope we make it that long.

Deleted Scenes from the Sermon on the Mount

And if any woman thinketh that her way is straight and her dominion a tidy one, let her enter her master bedroom, remove her bed and behold the great filth that lies before her. Let her take out her mattress and box springs, whisk away the ineffective dust ruffle, take out the slats and dismantle the frame. Let her then vacuum forward and backward until her back acheth as her children clamor to rescue their abandoned treasures located therein. Let her shampoo her carpets, remove the disgust from her baseboards, assemble her new bed, lay in her new comfort and forget the misery that once dwelled there.

We woke up to a chilly willy home this morning

and I sent the girls to go put on a few layers of warmer clothes. Melody emerged from her room still wearing her sleeveless gingham sundress. She hadn't disobeyed, however, she was wearing at least 20 pairs of panties. Somehow, I don't think it will do the trick

One of *those* days

I just lost my very long and very whiny post about today. It's probably good that I didn't impose that upon you.

It has been a hard day. Up til 5:30 with Charlie, woken by Melody just before 7. Dowlan, Charlie and I went mattress shopping and it was one of those days where he didn't look like a slightly immature three-year-old. He looked like a kid with autism. I'm getting used to Charlie being Charlie. What I can't seem to get used to is handling how strangers deal with Charlie.

Instead of repeating my ramblings, I am going to share something I wrote in May, when we were very new to this idea. I didn't share it here then because I wasn't ready yet for this audience to see into that part of my life. Please remember that it was written months ago, so the details of our family life have changed. Don't let it confuse you.

This is one of those things I feel naked after I post. So I'll quit rambling and hit the orange POST button.

Creating an Alter-Ego to See If I Can Handle My Self, My Son

As someone who has never been overly girly or all that well put-together, a manicure seems against my nature. It seems too fluffy and indulgent for someone so focused on practical side of life. I intentionally live a environmentally low-impact lifestyle that includes things like canning my own jams and applesauce, composting, organic gardening, cloth diapering my children and eschewing commercial beauty products. I may not have used shampoo or toothpaste in seven weeks because of the chemicals, but when it comes to a good french manicure, I lose all logic.

Bring on the chemicals, the stinkier the better.

One of my few escapes from my pressure-cooker of a world is going for somewhat-monthly manicures. While I would prefer the luxury of a pedicure, the $12 is a lot easier to come up with than the $35, so I go for the cheaper, if less relaxing option.

In my ordinary life, I find that I am perpetually repeating the same answers: I have three kids, the oldest is adopted. She has some significant special needs. The girls are five months apart. My middle feels squished by them both, is obnoxiously gifted and better than your child in every way. (Just kidding about sharing that last bit.) My youngest has breathing problems and food allergies. My husband has been unemployed for eleven months. Yes, the job market sucks. No, my economy doesn't feel all that stimulated, either. Well, I have two jobs and, yes, I am exhausted. I used to teach, but I've been home with the kids, so now I tutor and score tests. Yes, my hands are full. Yes, it is wonderful that he is a stay-at-home-dad (but only if you don't consider it from the housekeeping angle).

Same questions, same answers. Rinse, repeat.

So I play this little game. Every time I go to get my nails done, I make up a different life for myself. Sometimes I am single, sometimes we have no kids. Sometimes my kids are older, different in number or gender, or maybe I just found out I'm expecting my first. Sometimes I'm an attorney, sometimes a chemist, others a dentist. It isn't that I don't love my family and the life we have--just that it is nice to have a different answer for the same old questions.

Today, I tried out a new one. I tried out my family, exactly as they are, only that my son is on the autism spectrum. Because, well, I think he is. I've talked to my mom and a few good friends about this, but I needed to audition it on strangers. I needed to know just what combination of sympathetic looks and idiotic comments I was in for. I needed to know if I could even bring myself to utter the words, "Charlie's almost three. He has autism."

I am happy to report that it went better than I thought. I think the shield of testing out reality in the confines of my game helped significantly. It also helped that the proper Southern woman at the station next to me had a grandchild also on the spectrum and that the lady doing my nails had no idea what I was talking about because English is not her strong point.

But I said it out loud to a stranger and it didn't hurt as badly as I thought. I've handled a lot in my life. Maybe I can handle this, too.