um

My status on instant messaging was "was not attacked by the cable guy"
Kristie asked, logically, what that was all about. Here's the story.

The man was here from the cable company to get us a new modem.
He is downstairs.
I am upstairs.
And my phone is next to me on the window sill.
Unbeknownst to me, the window is leaking.
On my phone.
So I dry it off and give my husband a modem/cable guy update.
In the middle of the call, the phone quits.
Due to the water inside it.
I panic, thinking that Ty must be thinking that I was attacked by the cable guy.
(I think the cable guy is maybe 13)
Cable guy had the laptop so i couldn't IM Ty.
Finally I went downstairs and asked adolescent cable guy if i could borrow his phone.
Then I have to tell Tyson while standing right next to cable guy, that I was not attacked by the cable guy.
Thus, my status of "was not attacked by the cable guy".

brotherly love

Austen said today:

"Aaron's a lot of cute."

and

"He's a big, little, special boy."

I agree with both statements wholeheartedly.

dream

Okay. So I am some kind of television producer or something and I am a very good friend of the actor, Hugh Laurie. I think I worked on a show with him. I think the show was House but I'm not sure. That would make the most sense. Anyway, Hugh goes on a vacation to France during the middle of a storyline and dies. I am positively undone by this, not only because we are very good friends but because he is an actor on my show and what am I going to do now? I can't even tell you how upset I am about this death. At this point I actually begin questioning how I am going to go on with life without him. So, I start thinking about who I am going to get to replace him, both in my life and on the tv show. Crazy, I know, because Dr. House is irreplaceable as a character and as a friend. The best person I can come up with to replace him is Robert. The one that lives with Terry. Except then he dies too! So then I go to a gladiator-style dogfight with little red chihuahuas with horns versus fierce bunny rodents with a partiality for the flesh of other animals. This is some kind of animal-gladiator/dinner theater because I am expected to eat during this spectacle. There is even glass like at a hockey game to protect the diner/viewers from getting the entrails of dying chihuahuas in our meals. I couldn't do it. But this didn't stop my dining companion from nodding and smiling at me every time she took a bite, trying to convince me that the food was good. I didn't doubt it was good, I just couldn't eat it after all I had been through what with Hugh dying and my show going under with no star and all the carnage. That is all.

I thought it was kind of funny.

Henry: "Is that me, Peter? DON'T EAT WOODY! (Aaron was eating Woody) Eat a sock!" (grabs my foot and tries to move my foot to Aaron's mouth. Also, there is no Peter here)

Henry: "mommy, is this just a cow?"
(was a toy cow, and not some variety of laser or similar so, yes)

Me to a roaring Henry with his brother's shoes on his hands: "what are you"
Henry: "I a rata-eye-ow! Am I am rata-eye-ow?" (I think this means crocodile and no, he isn't one of those either)

And one more... this was another child entirely. We'll call him Steve.
Me: "What do crocodiles eat?"
Steve: "Crocodiles eat mice"
Me: "Would they eat a kitty?"
Steve: "Yes"
Me: "They would eat you too if they could"
Steve: "No."
Me: "Do they eat babies?"
Steve: "If a crocodile is going to eat your baby it is okay to hit. But only the crocodile. (Steve has problems with violence) It won't eat your baby if you pick it up by the tail and spin it six times. Or two times and you spin it and let go and then it won't eat your baby."

Another kid that I love almost as much as my own said this of her soon-to-be-born brother or sister: "We should name her Pretty Butterfly Fly Away or Kayla"

I LOVE HER!

Tyson is Powerful Enough to Deflect a Bad Guy's Bullet

For the past 6 days I have been sick. No news there, right? Ha! Don't I know it. I have three children. Boys. Small boys. One of those was sick too but I'll get to that later. Three small boys do not take care of themselves, at least not very well. As I mentioned before, I have been sick and therefore, not able to take care of these precious little men much at all. Enter Tyson. He has a job. He kind of has two, actually. For the past 6 days he has done both of his jobs and mine in addition to caring for his needy, demanding wife. He hasn't complained. He has come home from his job each and every day and fed those boys, pushed pills into my mouth, run to the store, changed those diapers, and cleaned all the messes we made all day. He needs a break.
He has had a trip coming up for quite a while. Neither of us realized that it was scheduled on top of a standing arrangement I have with the church ladies. Selfishly my first instinct was... "but I wanna..." and to think only about how very much I needed this time. I think this time he needs it more. I am so thankful for him and proud. Proud of how able he has become in the last few years. Thankful that I have him to fall back on. My proudest moment was at about 4:00 p.m. on Saturday in the Emergency Room. We had been sent there from the walk in clinic when they discovered my son's temperature was 105 degrees. My husband had not yet eaten breakfast, and should have, by his own standards, been very cranky. But he wasn't! He was the one repeatedly cooling towels and placing them on my son's neck and head. He was the one who held the boy while he got his shot. He was the one who entertained the two year old and he held the fussy hungry baby I was too sick to nurse. He was the one who took care of all of us.
I think it is time he gets taken care of. And for that, I can't wait to get better.

I AM SO TIRED OF BEING SICK

that is all.

talent

A very talented friend (Kris Stone of Stone Cafe Creations) of mine takes pictures. She takes good pictures. Never before was this more clear to me than when she recently sent me a picture she took of some orange peels carefully arranged on the table by her son. This is that picture. She said it was orange peel iceburgs. I don't know. I just think it's beautiful.

Mr. Wonderbird, A Good-For-Nothing Chimney Sweep, and Dear Little Shepherdess

"Just shout, 'Wonderbird!', and I'll be right there."
'The Curious Adventures of Mr. Wonderbird' is a disturbing tale of a king and a chimney sweep, a shepherdess, and another king, all of whom came to life out of his (the real king) paintings. Neither king appears to wear pants throughout the entire film. Also, there is a bird named, of all things, Mr. Wonderbird. Mr. Wonderbird helps the two lovers (Chimney-Sweep and Shepherdess) escape rooftops, a possessed wheelchair/throne, retarded bounty hunters, and other perilous situations using his superpowers which appear primarily to consist of taunts and insults. There is also a blind man who plays calliope music in a lion's den, a clumsy police chief who slides UP fireman's poles, a man in black leotard and red speedo, a giant robot with skeleton hands, a statue who comes to life and removes his own leg to use as a weapon, and lots of trapdoors. All in all, I can say, without reservation, that this was the creepiest story I have ever heard or heard about. Tyson is not allowed, I repeat, NOT ALLOWED to peruse the $1 videos at Walmart anymore.

A Comical Misunderstanding That Resulted in Me Marrying a Very Intelligent Man

This is the title of the new book I am going to write. Please comment with any suggestions regarding the content. Thank you.

Not Me, Unfortunately.

James 4:11
Speak not evil one of another, brethren. He that speaketh evil of his brother, and judgeth his brother, speaketh evil of the law, and judgeth the law: but if thou judge the law, thou art not a doer of the law, but a judge.
and then:
James 4:12
There is one lawgiver, who is able to save and to destroy: who art thou that judgest another?
ouch?

This one's for my very young friend. You know who you are.

I don't believe in
whispers & I don't
believe in rhyme
Both
belong only in their
time
Whispers are for quiet
time and rhyme...
For fairy tales &
fancy pretty lies

New Year's Eve

Grandma: "What time is it?"
Sarah: "2008."