I long for the days of fun and useful toys. I am currently preparing for a consignment sale(by The Picky Chick). Each day , I sneak into the toys closets and boxes and secretly pull out the toys my children no longer play with. This can only be done during nap or at night time. If the girls see that a toy is departing, even if it hasn't been used in a year, the crying and tearing of clothing begins. Now, if a Polly Pocket could double as some sort of homework aide or kitchen utensil, I'd keep 'em forever. If I could do yard work with little people or soften my clothes with a My Little Pony, they'd have their own room. I always wanted a Snoopy Snow Cone Machine. Not only did it have my favorite cartoon character of all time, but you got a frosty treat as well. My friend Melissa had one...oh, the joy of spending the night at her house and getting to use the machine. I wanted to steal it so bad. She didn't appreciate what she had!

Too hot outside? Watch some Dog!

During these hellishly hot days of summer, it is very tempting to stay inside and veg in front of the TV. One of my guilty, or not so guilty, pleasures is Dog the Bounty Hunter on A&E. Dog, with wife Beth and his unending stream of children, bring jumpers to justice. A proclaimed born-again Christian, he chases down the fugitives, dropping f-bombs like birdseed...then at the dramatic climax, he tries to lead them to the Lord. At a strapping 5'7" tall, Dog takes credit for every capture, even though son Leland and bloodbrother Tim do all the physical work. In all reality, all they need to do is have Beth, with her more then ample bosom, turn around quickly. The jumper would receive a blow of such force, I'd be afraid their neck would be broken. If you ever find yourself in the position to waste time in front of the tube, watch some Dog. It'll change your life, or at least your position about a good support bra.

Don't lie...Jot is coming!

My brother and I were raised in a pretty strict home. Manners were a must and lying was dealt with in very creative ways. A spanking was pretty run of the mill, but other more time consuming methods were often employed. My father made me write a report, using his concordance for the King James Version of the bible. I had to research and write down every verse pertaining to lying in the bible. What a drag. When we would go to visit our cousins in Knoxvegas, we would get up early to watch our various cartoon delights. Apparently, they thought the heathen Johnny Quest watchers needed some religion so they played Jot. Jot the dot episodes dealt with moral issues and their consequences. I hated this show. My parents could have shown me Jot's episode on lying and I would have stopped. Stopped because of the torture. Pray he doesn't make a comeback. We're all in trouble.

Don't sass me Google!

The world is full of sass and sarcasm. Smart a-- people and their mouths. My children and their smart mouths when they get a little crazy. These are all things I can take in small doses...for we all have our snippy days. But, what I cannot stand is how Google is such a sarcastic little bastard! At times, I get a bit overzealous in my typing speed. This happens, usually, for one of two reasons: I am really excited to find something online I want to buy OR I have a screaming child to deal with. When I occasionally make a mistake, Google is more than happy to question my intentions in an Eddie Haskel-esque way. If I put in clotes instead of clothes, Google snarkily asks, "Did you mean clothes?" Well hell, of course I did. You don't have to make me feel like an idiot, Google! I get lip from everybody else....et tu Google?

MY super sweet sixteen

I got sucked into one of eMpTyV's horrible show marathons on Saturday. That shameful gem known as My Super Sweet Sixteen. It was a devoted to the top 10 most expensive parties. My husband and I sat with our mouths wide open, not wanting to watch but unable to look away. These snotty little girls who throw tantrums on their parents when their stretch birthday hummer did not have pink washer fluid as a standard feature. These little white girls who have these gangsta rappers to perform. So, we started discussing who we would have at our SSS party. I would have had Weird Al. This would eliminate the guilt of having to limit my guest list...all the jocks and cheerleaders would probably not have wanted to come. All my friends, the musician people, would have been really excited. We would party in the Civic Auditorium, decorated with posters of accordion masters, dine on My Bologna sandwiches and dance to White and Nerdy music. My party favors would be Al's video anthology, plus the box set of his Al TV series, as well as UHF. I would still probably be driving our family AMC Eagle or the minivan...no hummer for me. But, when my friends left the party, they would still respect me and want to be my friend. I'd also still have my dignityand would have had the COOLEST ENTERTAINIER EVER!!!!

Mrs. Robinson I am not

Mychildren are obsessed with these two young men. The most exciting night of their summer (until High School Musical 2 comes out) is about to happen this evening. Drake and Josh Really Big Shrimp premieres tonight on our favorite channel, Nickelodeon. Just like with any of these shows, we as parents can choose to be tortured, or we can embrace the inevitable and laugh along with our children. I have chosen to embrace the Drake and Josh phenomenon. My best friend from college, Maryellen, calls me Mrs. Robinson. She says I am obsessed with them. Just because our DVR is 68% full of their episodes right now...because I have read their bios online...because I chose to vote for my personal favorite episodes to be shown during the D&J weekend does not make me a Mrs. Robinson. I just appreciate them for their humor and acting abilities. My oldest daughter has a first grader crush on Drake, because he plays a guitar. I guess we need to prepare ourselves now for a string of boyfriends in bands. Our second daughter, on the other hand, likes Josh because he dances and says funny things. Oh well. It could be worse. They could be in love with those awful twins from the Suite Life of Zack and Cody. What a heap!!

Why do all the freaky kids come to storytime?

Every Friday, I travel with two of my three children to story time at the library to see the always entertaining Ms. Libby read stories, sing songs and wear fuzzy bunny slippers. Why is it that the uber-yuppies who bring their children have all given birth to the next spawn of satan? As my brother often laments, kids these days are so used to getting blue ribbons and never being told "No", they don't know how to handle discipline when it is handed out by a brave soul like Ms. Libby. I swear, if I had to hear her call down little "Avery" one more time, I was gonna leave. Some other mothers were quoted as saying, "Avery and her mother think they own story time...it is like their turf, so be careful around her." What are they, the equivalent of library toughs? Then you ask, why on earth did you put up a picture of Raymond Burr as Lars Thorwald from Rear Window?? I don't know...it is my favorite movie. He looks awfully cool in this picture...almost as cool as when he was Perry Mason. I guess he represents all of us at some time or another. Not that we are killer jewelry salesmen, but that sometimes even the most innocent can only be pushed so far before they crack. Hopefully little "Avery" won't push anyone to go "Thorwald" on their behind, but you just can't tell with those library moms. What a frightening bunch of women!

Another milestone in the life.......

My beautiful baby boy ate his first bowl of rice cereal this evening. His total source of food, until today, has been me. Though I am proud of the accomplishment and growth, it is a bittersweet time for me. Since he is my last, I feel I must savor, with even more gusto, every ounce of time he still wants to be in my arms or my presence. Who knew one could find such satisfaction in little things like smelling his little head....or such heartbreak in watching him eat from a spoon for the first time. But, oh what a sweet little heartbreaker he is.....

Just call me Ginger

This is first successful posting of a picture by myself...I hope. I sit here blubbering like an idiot because it took me an hour just to move the picture to my folder. Then it took another hour to figure out how to get the da--thing out of the folder to the current location. I feel as though this cartoon was written for me when I am trying to learn about technology. I get confused to the point I get tunnel vision and can barely hear anything but my name. Occasionally I'll hear "Do you understand?' or "It is not that hard...you know how to cut and paste right?" NONONONONO!!!! I am just a stupid psychology major who changes diapers and wipes noses all day. Don't get me wrong, I love my children with all my heart. I would break a commandment in order to keep them safe. Feeling like a productive member of society, well that is another story. I have the dream that lots of housewives who occasionally watch Oprah have...my ingenius home-based business idea will make me a muti-gajillionaire. Do you have any ideas$$?

Chicken feet anyone?

I am still messing around with pictures

Why does technology have to be so difficult?

I feel as though I am a relatively intelligent woman. I was able to graduate from a respected university with a bachelor's degree. I've held down jobs post graduation. Maybe I just completely depleted my brain cell supply after three children. I cannot understand how to do the most elementary computer tasks. Sure, I can read religious chain letters off email with the best of 'em, but ask me to cut and paste or change my wallpaper, I turn into a teary-eyed, slack-jawed moron. My sainted brother came over yesterday to try and instruct me on the high art of attaching an image to whatever I might post. Amid the diaper changes and refereeing of my daughters' fights, an image appeared, though how it got there has already escaped my "brain" (if it can even be called that anymore). Then, if that weren't fruastrating enough, my sainted husband tried to give me a mini crash course in the same subject. He works on and with these hellish machines all day, so my guilt flowed free, along with my incompetence. Needless to say, his success rate was as dismal as my brother's...resulting in yet more tears springing to my eyes. This blog will certainly be a journey for me. Stayed tuned for more laughs at my expense!