Wednesday, September 30, 2009

So I was talking to Cary on the phone today while making myself a delicious little lunch. And the first thing you should know about Cary, besides that she doesn't eat "man food" is that she's always super curious about what others eat. Mainly so she can judge them but also because she finds herself in a black bean rut quite often.

So anyway, she asked me what I was making and I said, "a little sandwich spread with some leftover pot roast I have" and she said, "what"? And the 'what' was in this high pitched tone like I had just told her I was eating a baby.

I guess I just thought everyone made sandwich spread with leftover pot roast. Kind of like how my Mom thinks everyone eats corn with spaghetti.

In case Gigi has never sat you down and showed you how to make a really yummy sandwich spread with leftover pot roast--here you go.

You take some left over pot roast and throw it in a Cuisinart or some other food chopping apparatus and toss in some pickles. And onions if you like onions, which I don't. And you blend it up until it is like tuna fish spread. Only it isn't tuna fish spread; its way better. Because it isn't tuna fish, it is yummy left over pot roast. Then you mix in some mayo and maybe a fuzz of mustard. Dash of salt and pepper and boom, Bob's you're uncle and you have a delicious sandwich spread. Although wheat bread is my bread of choice, you just have to have this on really soft white bread. And it is so good with sour cream and onion chips and crunchy carrots. Mmm, and don't forget the diet cherry coke. It is also good on crackers. Or a spoon.

An alternative to this is chicken breast and I think most people just call that chicken salad but whatever.

Tuesday, September 29, 2009

Would You Like a Side of Mental Imagery With That?

So I am sick. Again. And last night I was in the Urgent Care because I am sick, again, and I knew this was turning into a sinus infection, again, and in the spirit of I don't want another ear infection, I went to the Urgent Care when Jeff got home from work.

And while I'm just talking about being sick let me tell you that my kids have eaten me alive today. Shown me no mercy. Kids 7 Mama 2. They get 7 points for the hours in which they came, saw, conquered and took no prisoners and I get 2 points for the 2 hours I sent them to their grandparents while I slept a wonderful Ny-Quil induced sleep.

Ok, back to Urgent Care. So I'm starting a new Label today called "Things I Don't Like". Here's is the first thing I don't like: sitting on an examination table and coughing so I hard I pee my pants. With the doctor in the room. Not just a little pee. But like wet my pants amount of pee. And it wasn't enough pee that he was calling for a catheter or anything but nevertheless I pee'd my pants at the Urgent Care. And if the sound of my cough, which is a cross between a freight train and a sick, barking dog, wasn't enough to prescribe something with codeine in it the fact that I just pee'd all over his examination table was.

So yes, peeing my pants at Urgent Care or anywhere is else is definitely something I DON'T LIKE.

Sunday, September 27, 2009

Praying for Your Kids Monday
Guarding Their Hearts

Sunday night is family movie night at our house and tonight we busted out a "new" movie: The Little Mermaid. Now don't take this the wrong way, I'm not calling for a Disney boycott here but HOLY COW! Seriously, that little Ursela the Sea Witch is enough to scare anyone, not to mention she calls sweet little Ariel a "tramp". Just a little much for the 1 and 3 year old in my house. I think its more Curious George and Toy Story 2 for us for a few more years. There will be plenty of time for sea witches I'm sure.

While putting Emily down and praying she wouldn't have any bad dreams from what she saw I knew this week's PYKM had to be about guarding our childrens' hearts. If your kids are older Disney movies are the least of your problems; perhaps your concerns are video games, peer influence, drugs and alcohol... Pick your age--it will have an area that causes a parent to cringe.

Proverbs warns us, "Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life" (4:23). We can help our children by protecting their innocence for as long as we can and that includes being cautious of the things we let them watch and listen to. Taking a page from last week's PYKM, let's make a powerful statement and declare that we will be purposeful in protecting our children and guarding their hearts.

Heavenly Father, thank You for giving me _______________. During this short time that I have to raise him I pray You will guide me and lead me in what I allow him to watch, read and listen to. I pray You would give me wisdom in how to talk to him so that I am not over-bearing. I pray You would pour Your Spirit out on ____________ so that he will have discernment as he grows and he would have a keen awareness of what is not glorifying to You. Amen.

Friday, September 25, 2009

The Hulu Purity Promise

So, maybe I was wound a little tight last night. I don't hate all of you. I mean, I don't hate all of you anymore. Last night the hatred was pretty palpable.

I re-read my original Going all Little House on the Prairie on You post and I love, I mean LOVE that I said I was going to study and blog and clean while not watching TV. Studying, blogging and cleaning is not what I did last night. In fact, last night was the most non-productive night of my life. All I could do was wander around and moan. It was this weird-pain-in-my-side-does-she-have-kidney-stones moan and my family seriously thought I had eaten bad Chinese food. After my family realized I had not eaten bad Chinese food and I did not need to have my stomach pumped they all just went to bed. I think I was instrumental in that putting the kids down process but honestly I do not remember.

After the kids went to bed I kept up with the wandering, blogged that rancorous post and then would randomly get on and curse at it. I tried to clean, I tried to study but I couldn't concentrate long enough to make any of it productive. Again, more moaning.

I tried to go to bed before 11:00 but I just couldn't. I was waiting, hoping that at 11, after Grey's had aired on TV, they would post it on or Hulu. No luck. I checked every few minutes until 12:30. That's when I finally went to bed and, of course, couldn't sleep. How could I? So many unanswered questions (see last night's post). It was while I was laying there I decided that waiting to watch Grey's on Friday is a lot like waiting to have sex until you get married.

Of course, there is all the hype. For months you're getting the teasers. Then there is the anticipation: is it going to be as good as I've hoped. Will it be worth the wait? There is the Everyone-Else-Is-Doing-It factor, and that right there is enough to make you crack.

Finally, after the sleepless "night before" the time comes and all the exciting foreplay like getting the kids cereal and threatening them with their lives if they disturb you leaves you at THIS moment. This glorious moment in time when the Space Needle comes on screen in a foggy Seattle morning haze and Meredith's voice over begins, "According to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross when one goes through a catastrophic loss...".

Let me say this friends: it was worth the wait. It was so worth the wait.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

Bitter Beer Face

Can I just tell you how bitter I am? I am so bitter. Every woman in America is watching the Grey's Anatomy season premiere AT THIS VERY MOMENT and I am writing on this stupid blog. I am writing how Hot Jeff and I got all holier-than-thou and dumped our TV and oh-aren't-we-wonderful-parents and we-are-going-to-churn-our-own-butter-and-our-kids-will-be-so-smart-because-they-don't-watch-TV and it seemed like such a good idea in the Summer and it sounded ideal when JANA AVISON lied to me and told me I could stream TV live and now I can't breathe and somebody please come over and here and put me out of my misery because I have to wait until 2:00 TOMORROW to find out how Izzie is doing and why Derek is taking the Chief's job and what is going on with Owen and ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS?

At what point when you read we were going Little House on the Prairie on you did you realize that in just a few short months I would be blogging instead of watching Grey's live? And why didn't you come over here and throw yourself in front of the cable box I was disconnecting and tell me that only over YOUR DEAD BODY would you let me disconnect the ONE SOURCE for me to watch the Grey's Anatomy premiere on September 24th?

Upon reading my freak out session on Facebook a friend wrote "Oh Jen, I love your candor. You are so relatable". You know who you are MIA WHITE and for the love of everything holy why didn't you drive over here pick me up and take me to your home to watch it? BETH ARMSTRONG--you are right next door. Can't you hear the screeching? Do you not see the emergency vehicles arriving at my home to give me CPR and pull my gnarled fingers from Jeff's neck? For the record Beth, I was going to march on over there and make you let me watch it but Jeff told me that was "tacky". Tacky? Clearly Jeff hasn't lost all ability to reason like I have because AT THIS VERY MOMENT people across America are watching Izzie stroke George's dead hand as a tear trickles down her cancer stricken, just coded, back from the dead face.

So let me be clear: I hate all of you right now.

I can't even think clearly enough to write about Samuel's first day of preschool but I will say this: he had a great time and tonight at dinner we got our first preschool lesson. "Mrs. Watson says at snack time we have to sit with our belly to the table". We all sat up straight and pushed our bellies to the table. Well except Roo whose belly is too big. She managed to give us her trademark phrase though, "I'm Buzz" (as in Buzz Lightyear).

No, we are not sending Samuel to some ghetto preschool whose sign is all jacked up. I just blocked out the name on his school so my Mom wouldn't freak out and start sending me emails about pedophiles again.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Jim Croce Said It Best

Samuel starts preschool Wednesday morning and I find that my feelings have gone from "Wahoo, Samuel starts preschool tomorrow" to "Really? My baby starts preschool tomorrow?" Now I know it isn't kindergarten or high school and I know its only 2 mornings a week but it feels like the start of something big. Actually, it feels like the end of something and I can't keep the tears from falling.

I'm a writer which means I inherently hate cliches but I can't help but ask, "Wasn't it just yesterday I was bringing him home from the hospital?"

And maybe tomorrow feels a little sad because I know it is just the beginning of Samuel's journey. I know that when I drop him off tomorrow with his new jeans and shiny backpack it will be just the start of waving goodbyes.

So tonight at bedtime I held him longer than I usually do. I touched his soft skin and buried my head into his neck and let his curly hair tickle my cheeks. I drank in his smell and tried to memorize the way his tiny little body felt in my arms. He asked me, "Mama, you sad?" I answered, "A little bit. A happy sad." He replied, "That doesn't make any sense." and my laughter broke the moment. I kissed him and then made him promise he would call me every day of his adult life. Not knowing what he was promising, he happily obliged.

Again, I wonder, wasn't it just yesterday I was bringing this miracle home from the hospital?

From this.... this! Pooping, smiling cowboy at Nana's!

....or this! 'Cars' obsessed cutie.

...or this. My beloved Samuel Edward.

Monday, September 21, 2009

Praying for Your Kids Monday--Just Barely
Praying Through Your Child's Room

Whew, 9:30 on Monday night...I'm cutting it a little close this week! Honestly, I totally forgot it was Monday. Who does that? We got back from Montana last night and Sunday is usually when I write PYKM but I was tired and we were hungry and it just escaped my brain. I realized it sometime this morning and by then I had already posted and was knee deep in laundry and midgets. So here it is...

It is interesting because these last few days I kind of forgot about PYKM and didn't pray for a topic like I usually do. Tonight as I was rocking Roo and praying over her I was thanking God for a safe trip home and the blessing of our home. Our kids LOVE being home; last night they danced and ran and danced and ran some more. When it came time for bed they both were so happy to be back in their own rooms and having our bedtime routine back in place. Needless to say, they slept like champs in their own beds and rooms!

So anyway, tonight while rocking and praying I was thinking about our children's rooms and while it is a topic we prayed for several months ago I feel the leading to re-visit the topic of praying through our children's rooms. Their rooms should be safe havens for them to rest and grow in and they shouldn't have anything in them that is offensive to the Lord. You parents of older children have to be more aware of this then us mommies with toddlers. Nevertheless, children of any age can bring home something that isn't glorifying to God, knowingly or unknowingly. Ask God to show you if there is anything in your child's room that should be removed, especially if your child has started to have nightmares or has become rebellious, angry or fearful.

In Stormie O'Martian's book "The Power of a Praying Parent" she writes, "This is not a superstitious little ritual. This is a powerful claiming of your home, your child, and all aspects of his life for God. It is standing up and proclaiming, 'As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord' (Joshua 24:15). It is saying, 'My home is sanctified and set apart for God's glory'.

Thank You God for being Lord over heaven and earth. I invite You to be Lord over this room as well. I pray Your Holy Spirit will dwell in ________________'s room and that You will flood it with Your light. I pray Your complete protection over this room and ______________. I pray You will fill it with Your love, Your peace and Your joy and that this room will be sanctified for Your glory. Amen.
Some May Call It Narcolepsy

Some may call the "condition" narcolepsy but I've just always considered it a gift; for the last 32 years I have been able to sleep under any condition, anywhere. True story.

In the early 90's I had a water bed (of course I did) and once Mom and I were draining it and it got towards the end of it and I had to roll the mattress up and kind of lay on it to keep the water all pushed up on the drain and I fell asleep in that position. Then there was the time I fell asleep at Disney World while leaning up against a park bench waiting for the tram that would take me to the parking lot. And then there are the countless car rides, flights, and train rides in India in which I slept soundly and peacefully as the miles passed beneath me.

I just love sleep and have never had any trouble falling asleep. When my body decided it was tired and my head decided it was a good time to give in and sleep I slept. Put my head back/down, closed my eyes and went to sleep. It was so Forrest Gump of me, "When I was hungry I ate and when I was tired I slept and when I had to, you know, I went".

Recently, like for the last 2 months or so, everything has changed. No matter how tired I am when I go to bed I CANNOT SLEEP. I lay there and toss and turn, kick off the blankets, pull on the blankets. Open the windown, shut the window. Lay on my side, lay on my stomach. Flip over to the other side and finally doze off just to wake up and look at the clock and see I've only been asleep for 45 minutes. Start the process over.

It is making me crazy.

2 weeks ago I had that ear canal infection and was prescribed pain pills that "could cause drowsiness". I was so pumped when I read that because I was all "wahoo, drugs! Now I'll sleep" and when I repeated that exact same phrase to Hot Jeff he was all "well enjoy Michael Jackson, can I get you some diprovan". And speaking of Michael Jackson I totally get it now how you can be so sleep deprived and so tired and so over laying there not being able to sleep that you call your personal physician and beg for sleeping pills.

Ok, back to my original thought: not even the hydrocodone made me sleep. Very disappointing. And just so I don't get a lot of emails from you telling me how addictive pain medication is and links to rehab centers in LA I'll let you know that I am not taking the hydrocodone anymore 1) because my ear doesn't hurt anymore and 2) because it didn't work anyway. I'm still not sleeping.

Neighbor Melissa suggested I am starting peri-menopause. Cousin Kristi suggested it is a common symptom of the PMDD we're pretty sure I suffer from. Hot Jeff said I should stop taking naps with the kids during the day (which I did and I still can't sleep). Mom suggested I drink a glass of wine before bed with 2 melatonin. :)

On a related note, last night was my first time in my own bed as we just got home from Montana and I actually slept awesome! I was super tired from the long drive and went to bed at 9 and slept until 6 when the midgets woke up. I have a feeling it was just a fluke deal though and I'm afraid my new friend imsomnia will be back tonight. Maybe not though. Maybe it will leave just as quickly as it came and that would totally rock my world. Maybe I'll just call my personal physician and see if he can bring me over some Ambien or Lunestra. And maybe after he knocks me on my arss with a sleep aid he'll clean my house.

Now we're talkin'!

*Baby Roo at 2 months old.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Photographic Proof of Why We May
Never Be Invited Back to Nana's

Exhibit A
Emily, after having dumped salt and pepper (and water) all
over Nana's kitchen table and floor

Exhibit B
Cross-dressing, furniture jumping midgets

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

A Letter to My Husband

Dearest Jeffrey,
Today I was in a cafe and saw a couple eating breakfast. They were our parents' age and sat in silence. Time had aged their skin and hair and I could tell this eating routine was one they had settled in to years ago.

Certainly their days once must have been like ours are now: eating out is an adventure with young babies at our sides and macaroni and cheese being thrown on the floor. Maybe it was during those years that they began slipping away from each other.

I remember when Samuel was born and everyone told us our marriage would fall to the wayside because we would be so focused on "the baby". We defied them all as we got stronger and fell more in love as we saw this new side of each other emerge: Mother. Father. And through these changing years I have found that you, you my beloved, are easy to love. It isn't work to be married to you, I don't have to grit my teeth to dream of our future together.

If I could write a poem I would write the most elegant poem there is and it would spill over with my love for you. If I could write a song it would be the most lyrical song there is and I would hum it's tune all day; my adoration put to music. If I could paint a picture the colors and artistry would shout that I am yours and you are mine and it would be hung in museums all over the world; my declaration on canvas. Instead, I give you this promise:

Unlike some, our love will only grow. Years and time will only strengthen our bond. Someday we will slow dance in our kitchen and sing the songs of old lovers. You will borrow my glasses and I will wear your slippers. At night we will roll to the middle of the bed and whisper sacred memories, silver head to silver head. We will laugh when we think of the vows we made by candlelight so many years ago; at the time we had no idea what we were saying but our hearts will have quiet understanding as we have lived our covenant.

I am eternally yours,

Sunday, September 13, 2009


Most of you know when I am at my Mom's house it is hard for me to blog because her computer is in her office and Roo's porta-crib is set up in the office. My best blogging time is at night, hence, not a lot of blogging done while I'm at Mom's house. Tonight I am blogging before Emily goes to bed but she's whiny and on my lap so I'm keeping it short. Every word I type I have to delete two made up words that she has typed. Its a long process.

I want us to be praying for our kids' salvation this week. I had some good Scripture references and thoughts to write out but you're going to get the condensed-just-a-prayer version for above said reasons.

If your kids already know Christ as their Savior, spend the time this week praying for their friends or family members who might not. Pray your children will be a light that shines and points others to Christ.

Lord, thank You for sending Your Son to be my Redeemer. I pray for _________ that she will come to know You as the Lord of her life at an early age. I pray she will hear Your Spirit's call at an early age and live a long life fully devoted to You. Amen.

Thursday, September 10, 2009

You've Got to be Kidding Me

Its been one of those days. One of those failure-to-thrive-whose-kids-are-these-I-wish-I-were-in-Vegas days. Somewhere in Oregon Bestie Kim is nodding in appreciation and Shannon is raising her 4:00 beer to me. Amen my sister friends.

It is 3:30 and I have resorted to putting a movie on the portable DVD player because we couldn't find the TV remote and that's how desperate I was for quiet time. Its been like this all day; it started 5 minutes within of waking up to Samuel's piercing, raise the dead, scream because he shut his finger in the bathroom door. On the outside I was full of Mommy compassion but on the inside I was like, "STOP SCREAMING IN MY EAR AT 6:45"! Shortly after that, Emily slipped on spilled water and neither of them have stopped whining since. It is approximately 9 hours later and I am so tired of their little whiny selves I could put myself in solitary confinement if only I could find a place where they couldn't find me.

I don't know if its because we are in Montana and they miss their home and Daddy or if God is playing a cruel joke on me. I think the latter because I don't care how homesick you are there is nothing short of God playing a cruel joke on me that could make these children turn into pure evil the way they clearly did last night while they slept.

They have fought, pushed, kicked, cried, told me no, told me they were hungry, told me they were full, told me they wanted to go outside, told me it was too cold outside for 9 hours. Yes, 9 hours. Oh, I guess I already mentioned that part. On this 9 hour thought though, let me just make this one point: a normal work day is only 8 hours. I've been going for 9 (thank you for paying attention) and will continue to go probably until around 8:00 tonight. That's 4.5 more hours. And all you moms are nodding in appreciation and the lucky ones are raising a 4:00 beer to me because you all are doing the same, dang thing. The same unappreciated, sometimes monotonous, job that I am.

And here's the funny part: like me, you wouldn't trade it for anything. Somewhere deep in your heart you know this is a holy calling. And while it may be hard to remember today you feel it in your bones and with every fiber of your being. It often presents itself with goose bumps on your arm when one of them throws their arms around you and says, "I love you Mama".

So if you're having a day like mine I applaud you. I applaud you for hanging in there. I applaud you for not beating them within an inch of their life. I applaud you for not being drunk out of your mind. I applaud you for working 24 hours a day, 7 days a week at a job you'll never get paid at and may go several days without a thank you. I applaud you for kissing away the boo boos, for running the errands, for getting the laundry done (even if not put away), for praying for your kids when you'd really just like to donate them to science. I applaud you for being amazing.

Guess who else applauds you? Your Heavenly Father. And yes, He may be playing a cruel joke on you just like He is me but He loves you and He will honor and bless your love and devotion to your family. He will lead you and carry you close to His heart. And that just may be all I needed to hear to get me through the rest of this day.

He tends his flock like a shepherd:
He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
He gently leads those that have young (Isaiah 40:11).

Max Lucado’s “Fearless” reads like part guide and part exhortation. In Lucado’s newest book he masterfully weaves Scripture, stories and teaching to guide his reader to a place of living life without fear.

In the short and easy read of 180 pages, Lucado touches on spiritual fear (fear of disappointing God and fear that God isn’t real) to the very practical and daily fears of not protecting our children, violence, bad health and death. With poetic ease Lucado uses God’s Word to outline how to overcome these fears without ever diminishing the fact that they are indeed real fears.

Like Lucado’s other books, his voice comes through clearly and instead of reading a book you feel as though you are in his sanctuary listening to him teach from the pulpit. In the first chapter of the book when he thoughtfully and honestly writes of his late brother you feel as if you’re in a coffee shop listening to a friend share intimate thoughts on a person you both loved.

It is a compelling read with each chapter speaking to the heart of a person’s existence asking, “Am I wasting my life fearing things I have no power over or am I resting in God’s peace”?

Despite tackling many of life’s circumstances that cause gripping fear “Fearless” is like a cup of joy. Lucado assures his reader there is a better alternative and he backs it up with timeless Scripture references that are as relevant today as when they were written.

For those who are gripped by fear and for those who hardly struggle at all, I highly recommend Max Lucado’s “Fearless”.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

I'm always amused at myself when I get to Montana and hear myself saying things like, "That's a pretty barn" or "Wow, what a great fence". And what's even better than me saying it out loud is that I'm typically saying it to someone (my Mom or Gigi) who understands exactly what I'm talking about and nods in agreement.

I guess the cliche is true: you can take the girl out of Montana but you can't take the Montana out of the girl.

Monday, September 7, 2009

Praying for Your Kids Monday

There are hundreds of things I love about Hot Jeff but one of the sweetest things about him is his respect for others. He is wired with a kind spirit and that translates to courteous to others and I appreciate that he is teaching this quality to our kids. When Jeff introduces someone new to Samuel he has taught Samuel to look the person in their eyes and say, "Nice to meet you". Now granted, Samuel is 3 so about 1/3 of the time he tucks his thumb in his mouth and curls into his Dad's leg but for the most part he does it and I always feel so proud him.

Don't we all want our friends and acquaintences to say of our children, "They are just the most polite kids!" We have to guard ourselves though on not being prideful, our kids accomplishments or behavior can lead to sinful pride. Thankfully my kids are the perfect blend of wonderful and insane to keep me from being too prideful! :)

The Bible is clear that we are to show respect. Leviticus 19:32 says, "Rise in the presence of the aged, show respect for the elderly and revere your God". I think it is important to teach our kids that not only do Mommy and Daddy expect it but God tells us to be respectful in His Word. Whenever you can, point your kids to God's Word.

Lord, thank You for giving us clear direction in Your Word on how to behave. I pray you will guide me to teach my kids in the right way and I pray they will have a love for Your Scriptures and long to obey You. Amen.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Such is the state of my blogging these days. The toilet, not the cute baby. And that's not one of my midgets, for the record, just a cute picture I pirated off the internet.

I just haven't been in the mood to write lately. Normally Hot Jeff is telling me to put Ruby down and for the love of everything holy please feed him and his children but lately he's like, "hey, do you ever write anymore?" and I'm all, "blog clog".

I had a hideous English teacher in high school who was fresh out of college and flirted with all the boys in my class (seriously, how inappropriate is that?) and she always made us journal for a few minutes when class started and she said even if we didn't have anything to write about to write anyway because it is good exercise. Well I've never liked exercise and I certainly didn't like her but I'm trying to take her advice and write for the practice. Plus, I'm starting to get death threats from my regulars.

What I really need to write about but I haven't got anything funny to say about it yet (I'm working on it) is how we sold our Accord and bought a Pilot! A PILOT!! Like my dream car Pilot. I've wanted a Pilot FOR.EV.ER. So we broke down and got a used one with low miles (because Hot Jeff thinks buying a new car is a kin to lighting money on fire) and it has leather seats and when I drive it I feel like those "older" ladies I used to be in book club with who were married to doctors, golfed a lot, were always tan and spent their winters in Arizona. And because I know you're wondering, we named her Harriett. We had talked about naming her Jessie after Rick Springfield's hit song, Jessie's Girl, but ultimately didn't think she looked like a Jessie. Plus, I'm kind of on an old lady name kick so when Jeff threw "Harriett" out there I knew it was perfect. Samuel, who is 3 and thinks his way is the only way, refuses to call her Harriett and defiantly calls her "Sally"just to irk me. Sally, is of course, the name of Lightning McQueen's girlfriend and I'm sure in his mind his mother must have some nerve even daring to name a car anything but Sally and surely someday when that car needs any work done it will be because the Honda gods are getting their sweet revenge on me for naming my Pilot Harriett and not Sally.

Ok, and speaking of Rick Springfield...for my birthday Jeff surprised me and Shannon with Rick Springfield tickets. 2 funny things about this: 1) The concert was at Spirit Mountain Casino! HaHa! 2) Shannon had to google Rick Springfield! In Shannon's defense when she was a kid and all the kids went to cool summer camps Shannon's mom sent her to quilting camp. Yes, you read that right: quilting camp. I suppose that is enough said on why Shannon didn't know who Rick Springfield is. We had a grand ol' time eating at Oregon's largest buffet and watching women who are just a fuzz older than us wearing halter tops that were just a fuzz too tight for them shake their boobies at Rick. When we got in the car to head home Shannon looked at me with a glint in her eye and said, "I had fun. I felt like a kid in an effed up candy store"!

Kudos to Jeff for knowing his wife well enough to know when she was a little girl she wore her cassette tape of "Working Class Dog" out and named her dog, of course, Jessie and that she would LOVE going to see a 60 year old washed up rock star/soap icon who is still pretty hot wear leather and shake his butt for a lot of 40 somethings. You rock my world Hot Jeff. And you're not bad either, Dr. Noah Drake.

Ok, so that's about it and maybe Ms. Flom (yep, that was her name. Feel free to google her and see if she is in prison for doing it with underaged students.) was right about writing and exercise and quite possibly 17 year old boys.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

The Text I Sent Jeff This Morning From Upstairs on My Death Bed

"Call Costco. See if they sell caskets. It will be easier for you if they do because then you get some flowers and all the food for the reception following my funeral".