Today is Offical Non-Sequitur Day

Today I'm a little scattered.  That's because its the first day this week I'm home WITHOUT sick kids, and I'm not sure where to even begin.  Besides, I think I'm coming down with the stomach thing myself.  Welcome to my life.   And my stream of conciousness.

Why is it that I have over a hundred followers...did I mention I hit the 100 mark? Yippee...and I only get 10 comments?  I'm starting to have self image problems over this one.  Please help.

I'm actually thinking of going to BlogHer this year.  Yes, blogging has officially taken over my life.  Then again, I don't have a life, so it really doesn't matter.

Did I get the dogs their heartworm shots yet?  Where are the dogs anyway?

To all my bloggin' fiend friends out there, I have a favor to ask.  STOP.  That's right, stop writing.  Just for a little while.  I need to get caught up and I realize that's the only way its gonna happen.

Remember I said dieting wasn't so bad.  I lied.  If I have to keep eating like this for another six months I think I'm going to lose it.  Stop.  I know what you're thinking.  I should have added "even more" to that last statement.  There, I did it.  Are you happy?

I did brush my teeth today.  I think. God I'm a wreck.

As I try for the millionth time to spring for a real, professional blog design, I get sidetracked and never do a thing.  Someone mentioned mommy-onset ADHD.  Is there a support group I can join?

I'm done now.  My mind is officially on strike.  Plus, I've got to go clean the bathroom. Hopefully next time I'll be able to write a real post.

There will be no Zen today,

If Its Wednesday....

...it must be Screw With Mom day.  Officially.

Long, long ago, there was a time when Wednesdays were so peaceful.  And quiet.  Just me, the dogs and over five hours of  uninterrupted down time.

Only I'm having a hard time remembering what is was like.  That's because its a myth.  A fantasy.  A pure figment of my imagination.

Why it seems that as soon as humpday rolls around, someone has it in for me.

And not just someone.  EVERYONE.

When the kids get sick, its always on Wednesday.  My dentist appointments, the only open slot for months is on the very same day.  Same for the root canal.  Oh, and one cannot forget the Kermit Incident.  Yep, Wednesday again.

This week, like all the rest, I had hope.  And a to-do list a mile long, just waiting for some quiet time to complete.

I should have known better.  The writing was on the wall.  Monday night, the Little Stinker came to sleep in our bed.  Since he's so damn cute, we let him.  An unfortunate decision on our part, considering he decided to throw up on the sheets, the pillows and us at about 2 am.  Nothing wakes you up from a sound sleep like that oh-so-lovely smell.

It was downhill from there.  He was running a fever yesterday.  But yet I still hoped.  Maybe it was just a 24-hour bug. 

As I picked up my daughter from school yesterday, she was sporting the same greenish hue.  And that's when all hope of a day to myself went out the window.

So here I sit, stealing away a few moments to write as my two sick children nap.  There will be no errands run, no exercise done, no projects completed.  I'll be whipping up a couple of batches of chicken soup instead.  With a family as generous as ours, I'm sure we're not done yet.

Depression Rules,

Oh How the Mighty Have Fallen

My recent rash of computer woes has gotten me thinking.  I realizedits been a while since my last confession.  Not wanting to disappoint,I will force myself to divulge one of my deepest, darkest secrets.

I used to be a techno-geek.  Through and through, technology was in my veins.

Ilived in Silicon Valley.  I worked for a software company.  I owned thecoolest hardware and ran the hottest software.  I ate up info on newtrends and releases like it was candy. And my idea of a good time wasgoing to a conference where I'd promptly drool over Steve Jobs' or BillGates latest presentation.  Did I just admit that?  Well, its too latenow.


You see it was the early 90s --  a time when Applestill ruled the world and money flowed like water.  I was in the knowand I loved it.

Then a funny thing happened.  I movedto the middle of the country.  I had kids.  Suddenly my days werefilled with diapers instead of databases and the only conferences Iattend have a teacher sitting at the other end of the table.  The slidewas gradual, but the result obvious.  I lost my edge.

Big time.

Andnothing brought this home like a computer crash or two.   It made merealize I can't even get my email up and running without majordifficulties.  We've already been over my challenges with cell phones. I won't even go into my texting issues.

So today I am faced with the cold, hard reality that technology has passed me by.  I am a geek no more.

Well actually, according to my teen, I am -- but I can no longer put the word techno in front of it.

I'll just have to get used to the fact that I'm just one of those out of touch parents.   the ones that need their kids to fix the computer, test the latest software and help them get set up on Facebook.

After all, technology's for the young.  So why am I having such a hard time letting go?

Simple.  I guess I have a few denial issues to iron out.  And when it comes right down to it, I so don't want to grow up.

Repeat after me...Denial Is Your Friend,

From Couch to 5K Wheelchair

This getting into shape stuff is highly overrated.  I think its officially going to do me in.

Now you may know that I'm attempting to turn over a new leaf.  Tired of the continual upward movement of my pant size, as well as the jeers and wisecracks from the kids, I decided to get healthy and loose weight.

News flash...it ain't as easy as it seems.

Surprisingly, the diet stuff is going OK.  Then again, its only been a week and a half.  But I'll except small victories where I can get them.

The thing that's really getting to me is the exercise.  Here I thought is was supposed to make your more healthy, fit and flexible.

Not exactly.

As I make my way through the Couchto5K plan, I am forcing myself to jog at least three times a week.  I use the word jog loosely, because you really can't call it running.  I am officially the slowest jogger on the planet.  Why, even senior with walkers have been known to lap me.

But I keep plugging away.  Who knows, with a little work I might actually make a 30 minute mile.  OK, maybe I'm exaggerating just a bit.  But seriously, 20 minutes is my goal.

What's worse than the pace is the pain.  My back, my neck, my feet.  So much for that increased flexibility.

There's also the laughter.  My oh-so-encouraging family takes great pleasure in mocking my ohs and ouchs. They're having way to much fun with this.

But I keep plugging away.  Why?  Because I am that proverbial tortoise. I may be ungraceful and pokey, but I'm gonna win this race -- dammit -- if its the last thing I do.

Calm but Sore,

It Doesn't Get Much Better Than This

So remember the bomb scare yesterday?  Today I have a few more details.

They're pretty juicy.

Actually slimy would be more like it.

Thankfully, it was a false alarm.  As the story goes, a teacher pulled up at school and saw a duffel bag in the middle of the empty parking lot.  Something looked suspicious, so it was reported and the cavalry was called in.

The school was closed, mass hysteria ensued and there were a whole lot of worried kids and parents wondering what the heck was going on.  It turns out that using a robotic device, the bomb squad very carefully inspected the bag.  And this is what they found:

 
Yes, folks, in case you're wondering that is indeed Kermit the Frog sprawled out, his hands and feet spread.  I don't know about you, but he looks like he's been roughed up to me.  I'm wondering if a home video is going to surface in the next few days showing unnecessary police brutality against an amphibian.

So, just to recap, what appeared to be law enforcement from all over the state of Colorado, plus the news media, all gathered at our little school because of a muppet sighting.  To put in in other words, I MISSED MY ENTIRE FREE DAY because someone left one of Miss Piggy's friends in the parking lot.

Now if that don't beat all.  I am very thankful that this was a true false alarm, but truly, it doesn't get much better than this.

Laughing Hysterically (but trying to look serious for the kids),

Tick, Tick

It was a beautiful morning.  The sun was shining, the sky was clear and there was just a slight nip in the air.  Add to that being greeted by the SWAT team at school, and you have the makings of one fine day.

The sad thing is, I'm not even exaggerating.

This morning was calm -- at least by our standards.  Everyone got ready without too much fuss and there was only one fight over the bathroom.  We even got out the door on time to bring my younger daughter to school.

I thought is was kind of funny that we were hitting so much traffic.  Then I saw the sirens at the school.  Silly me thought is was just an accident blocking the way.  Under much protest -- I had my girl get out and walk the rest of the way.  Hey, I'm pretty practical and it was definitely going to take less time for her to walk than for me to drive.

I was making my way home when I called the school to let them know she might be a tad late.  That's when I was promptly told by the somewhat flustered receptionist, "Uh, the school's closed right now.  We've had a bomb threat."

Crap.

You've never seen a car whip around so quickly.  I think I broke a few speed records trying to get back to my daughter.  Luckily she was safe and home we went.

I don't have a lot of info yet, but it seems a suspicious package was found in the parking lot.  Examining it was the police department, the bomb squad, the SWAT team and the fire department.  Topping off the spectacle, we even made the news.  Even the news helicopters came out for this one.

The worst thing about this?  Once again, this was my day.  The day when my little guy goes to Lunch Bunch and I have the house to myself.  So all the way home I just kept shaking my head, wondering why the Powers that Be have it out for me so badly.  Damn, I'm a bad mommy.

Calm has left the building,

Stop The Violence

At Starbucks.

Bet you didn't know this was a growing epidemic?  Well believe me, it is.

What? Don't you trust me?

Why just today a male walked into our local Starbucks, looked at me and screeched at the top of his lungs.

"BANG.  I'm going to shoot your head off!"

So what if he's only four and happens to be related to me.  Mere details.  It was still traumatizing.  Can you say PTSD?

Itall started months ago.  My oldest son is a Transformers Afficionado. Mind you he's never seen either of the movies, but he can tell you (ingreat detail), who's who, what they turn into and if they're an Autobot(the good guys) or a Decepticon (bad guys).  Thank you very muchYouTube.

It just so happens that Pond Boy is idolized by hislittle brother.  When he went through his Indiana Jones phase, theLittle Stinker could be seen using any belt, hose or yarn as his own"whip."  That was fun.  Especially when he used it on the neighborkid.  We've been blacklisted from playdates ever since.

As PondBoy transitioned into Star Wars, his little brother joined in -- theonly two year old who could hum the Theme Song unprompted (usually inChurch or at a meeting or some other totally inappropriate place.)  Hecould also wield a light saber with amazing speed.  Once again, social engagements were inexplicably canceled.

Thenew Transformers stage is no exception to this trend.  My four year oldis equally obsessed with all things Megatron, Optimus Prime, BumbleBeeand all their friends.  And let me tell you, they have a lot offriends.

So when we had to run some errands today, it seemsquite reasonable to bring one of the toys with us.  It would keep himoccupied and quiet.

It was a good theory.

Allstarted out fine.  He made it through the grocery store withoutincident.  Even when we were in Starbucks, he sat quietly, downing hishot cocoa.  But once the treat was gone, all bets were off.

Those creative juices started flowing and soon he was recreating one of his favorite scenes.  Pointing his Transformer at me he said I was a bad guy.

And then it happened.  As all was quiet around us, my little angel stood up on his chair, looked me square in the eyes and told me I was a goner.  He not only said it, he included hand gestures.  Oh yeah, and the loud voice.  The stop-everyone-dead-in-their-tracks kind.

So as all the nice people around us stared in horror, I slowly picked up my little delinquent, smiled and made my way to the door.  Guess we can add yet another place to our list of banned venues.

Eternally Embarassed,