My very dirty little secret

In case anybody has ever wanted to make your own laundry detergent (and I know you all have), check out my new post on Gristmill.

Picture Perfect

Here are a few pictures from our trip to Michigan to see the grandpas. I forgot my digital camera so we had to go old school with the disposable. Needless to say, my photography skills are not the best. But here are a few nice shots of Penny, first with grandpa and then with great grandpa.

And then, just because I haven't had any good "Mother of the Year" pictures lately, there's this:

But we got home and everything is back to normal, back in Normal. See, look how happy the morning girls are.

Perfect people

Hate them. I hate perfect people.

It's not really their fault. They know how to stay neat-looking all day. They always return phone calls. Their kids never have faces smeared with chocolate from the chocolate-chip-cookie bribe on the way home from the park.

And my imperfect life, complete with a T-shirt covered in little kid snot and computer keyboard missing the left shift key, stems from this one flaw: I'm a horrible speller.

Everything I write — everything — has errors. And while there exists people who catch spelling errors, those that don't care and those who cloak their own mistakes by picking out the flaws in others (my favorite), my camp falls from the"Why am I so stupid" variety. It's a sad little group, but we're a lot of fun to laugh at, so I guess that's something.

And what am I to do? I try really, really hard not to make mistakes, especially since I know I'm prone. I try and try, only to fail over and over again. Steve said everybody makes mistakes, but I just have a really hard time believing him. If that were true, wouldn't bridges be collapsing all over town and airplanes falling from the sky?

So I continue my imperfect, misspelled life as best I can and try to keep the snot shirt to a minimum. I continue to be weak willed, self loathing and a horrible decision maker. But in the grand scheme of the world, the one where Guinea worm disease still exists, I'm a very lucky woman. If I lay in bed at night, tortured by my spelling errors, that's my problem.

I'll take luck over spelling any day.

Complain, complain

It's so nice outside. Nearly 80. Sunny. Breezy.

Problem is, the girls and I feel like crap. Total, snotty crap. And not to complain, although I really, really feel like complaining, but I wanted to note this because I can't figure out if it's allergies or just a cold. I think we might have all gotten snotty last year at this time, but since my memories spans two, three days at the most, it's hard to know for sure.

And so God created blogs.

Here's a funny side note. Carolyn has taken to telling Steve not to fart in her room. It's pretty funny.

"Daddy, don't fart in my room."

Sure thing, he tells her. No farting.

Then she says, "Cause it gets louder and louder and louder and louder."

Poor Penny

It seems our Ms. Penelope has come down with an icky little illness. I swear, whenever we travel, one of our kids comes home sick. It's full-proof.

And to make the whole thing a little sweeter, it's forecast to be in the 70s today and all weekend. There's a sure sign that we'll all get it. Super.

I hadn't mentioned it yet, but we traveled to see my dad and grandpa last weekend. It was really nice, especially since we originally went to look after everything because grandpa came back from Vegas early not feeling well, but it turned out he's great and it was just a nice visit. Carolyn loved the dogs and the horses and the cats and the grandpas.

Penny has developed a pretty serious mommy attachment. I hope it's just a phase, and am pretty sure it is, but right now, she's not very fond of strangers or giant German shepherds or indoor pools. She does love to read and sit with Fife and poke me in the eyes, so our days are pretty pleasant.

Another Little Secret

Steve and I went out last night (I know... I can't believe it either) when he made this clever little observation. Nobody in my family is gainfully employed.

That's not to say they don't work, and it's really only true for a few more days until my mom resumes her job with the HBPA (Horseman's Benevolent and Protective thing-a-majig).

But for the time being, here's the list.

Grandpa. Retired. And 92. Some nerve right!

My dad. Retired.

Mom. Seasonably unemployed.

Aunt Sandy. Grandpa's right-hand man.

Me. Housewife.

Cousin Julie. Grad student.

The girls. The modeling contract hasn't been finalized yet.

We're either the smartest or the laziest family around. Maybe brilliantly relaxed?

Just soup-er

So Carolyn was eating a snack today when Steve sat down next to her with a piping hot bowl of tortilla soup.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Soup."

"Like Superman?"

Lots and lots of laughing.

"Yes, like soup-er man."

"Really like Superman?"

Easter pretties

Here's a sample of the girls in their Easter duds. They were so cute.

Hahahahahahaha

We win. After our tree fiasco Steve and I wondered if it was really worth it. The effort. The near death. The utter humiliation.
Turns out: Yes! Totally worth it. We ended up saving almost $400 over hiring tree people.
Also, I started posting on Grist and have gotten a lot of good feedback, and only a few snarky comments. You can find that here.

Disney — Evil Geniuses

A few months ago, I mentioned how I like the Jo-Jo Circus CD. It was cute, and fun to dance to and just a great CD.

Well, I have a new musical confession. I borrowed from the library "The Best of Pooh and Heffalumps Too"CD.

And I like it. Not like I like Jo-Jo. I like it like I might listen to it even if Carolyn and Penelope weren't around.

Seriously. I love it.

First off, all the songs are by Carly Simon. And everybody knows, nobody does it better. Ha. You see what I just did there? I'm so clever.

Anyhow, I checked out the Heffalump movie, with themes about friendship and missing moms, which instantly won over Carolyn, who already loved Pooh. Next, I'm borrowing the CD.

Next, I'm crying every time I listen to "Little Mr. Roo" and singing top volume, with Carolyn, to "Shoulder to Shoulder."

And the thing is, I'm dreading taking it back to the library. Dreading it.

Oooh. Gotta run. "Shoulder to Shoulder" is on and I don't want to miss a minute.