Do you think Suzanne Sugarbaker ever went bowling? And more importantly, would she have used Blogger or Wordpress?

So, it's a new year and I'm trying to get back to blogging regularly. It was nice to have a break from feeling like I needed to post everyday, but at the same time I sometimes felt a bit stressed, like I needed to get my thoughts out before my head exploded.

I will say that my house has been noticeably cleaner, the laundry is (almost) done and put away, and there are groceries in the pantry thanks to all the extra time I've had on my hands while staying away from the computer.

My holiday decorations are still up, we are still enjoying our lit tree in the evenings, but it will have to go soon as I am getting a little antsy over all of the Christmas clutter that seems to cover every flat surface.

I took the kids bowling yesterday. I know that many things improve with age, but my bowling skills have not. I am one awful bowler. And I can't figure out why. I always manage to get eight or 9 pins down on the my first turn and then I can never pick up the spare. EVER. Those one or two pins are just left standing there as my ball rolls on by. So I admit it, I did get beat by a nine year old. I guess I'll just have to be okay with that.

I also am struggling with blogger. I managed to figure out how to download a three column blogger template, but other parts are giving me trouble. I am still too nervous to leave my safe and easy home here at blogger and switch to the unknown, or Wordpress as it's called, even though I've been practicing and I have to say that auto-post rocks. So, I'm kind of at a standstill with that whole decision.

It is funny how I can walk into a store and know instantly which, for example couch, I like, but where to blog is really causing me to loose sleep? Why is that? I can see a couch as soon as I walk in to a furniture store, know it's the one I want, browse the whole store, and go back to my original selection. Not that, you know, I've been out shopping for couches lately. But if I was? Well then, that is how I do it.

And why exactly am I rambling on about couches? Who knows. Maybe I ended the blogging break a little too soon.

I am wondering how you all are doing? Anyone else ready for the holidays to be over and routines to return to normal, even if means setting an alarm clock? I'm ready, but I have enjoyed not setting the alarm for almost two weeks.

Believe it or not, somehow my kids have been sleeping late every day. Until almost ten o'clock in the morning. Yes, I know! Where are my real children? But I'm not complaining. At all. Because you know who else has been sleeping until ten o'clock everyday right along with them?

Me, that's who! And if I could just wake up, flip on the television, order a pizza and lay around until noon watching reruns of Designing Women while procrastinating on some studying I should be doing, I'd swear it was 1992 and I was back in college.

But these kids of mine? They sleep till ten and then they get up and need to eat. And they don't really enjoy sitting down with a pizza to a good episode of Designing Women like I do. So we go bowling instead.

Filling the Void

I am quite the fan of Friday Night Lights. And tonight, after a long summer of watching Big Brother and too much HGTV, my show is back on.

Coach Taylor, Tyra, Julie, Matt and all the rest of the Dillon Panthers are back.

I am ready for my show to start. There are not many shows which I call MY show. But this one, most definitely, is MY top show.

Last fall, K asked me to watch this show about a high school football team in Texas with him. And I resisted. I see enough football on Sundays, Sunday night, Monday night and Thursday night, all winter long. I hear about fantasy football, all winter long. My Sunday evening shows are always late to start, because of football, all winter long. So why would I willingly add another hour of football to my life?

BECAUSE FRIDAY NIGHT LIGHTS IS THE BEST SHOW EVER!

EVER.

I love this show. It is like the best soap opera/nighttime drama/dry humor on TV. When Alias was cancelled and I knew I would not see my BFF, Jennifer Garner every week, I was diagnosed with a mild case of depression. I had not been so down since Beverly Hills, 90210 went off the air. I mean, Brandon and Kelly were my peeps.

Thankfully, the void they left in my viewing schedule was soon filled by Sidney Bristow. I wanted to be Sidney Bristow. (I actually still do.)

Then, she had to get all parental and have a baby and stay home with her kid. Whatever. It's not all it's cracked up to be, sister. Especially when you could be on TV being Sidney Bristow, for cry eye.

(For Cry Eye? I sound like my husband's grandfather. Excuse me. But clearly,I am passionate about my Sidney Bristow.)

So with my peeps on 90210, married, and all, and Jennifer Garner hanging out in parks playing with her kid, I was left with a TV viewing void.

I had nothing to loose, so I gave Friday Night Lights a whirl. And, I really didn't have a choice because K won't let me touch the remote afte 7pm.

And I loved it. Internets, it is so not about the football. Not.About.The.Football.

I mean, there is football on most every episode, but it is so much more than a football show. Look past the football people. It is about family and friends, friendships and betrayals, first loves and break ups, drug use and depression, absentee parents and over protective parents. It is all encompassing.

And, IT'S ON TONIGHT!

Now, what could a midwestern mom possibly relate to in a show that takes place in Dillon, Texas?

Plenty.

How can you not love a show where they chant "Clear Eyes, Full Hearts, Can't Lose." I mean, isn't that the truth no matter where you live? I love that. That is a piece of Americana right there. It just makes me want to charge through my television screen right out there onto the field with them.

Except I couldn't do that, it's not like I'm Sidney Bristow or something.

And, I love Connie Britton as the main characters wife, Tami. She is fantastic in her role. And, she has that shampoo commercial girl hair that I want.

Enough said.

The Little Engine That Could...Just Couldn't Do It

Pray for me Internet friends. I am in need of prayers.

A few days ago, I mentioned that um, I may have gained a pound or two, or even eight due to drinking an excessive number of 42 oz. Cokes from McD**alds, ALL.SUMMER.LONG.

And you may recall, that I said I would be returning to my old habits of healthy and nutritious eating before the VALUE OF THE YEAR came along and threw me off the caffeine-free wagon.

So, if it just took one can of pop in lieu of a mimosa to rekindle my old caffeinated habit then how come it is like coming down from a 5 day heroine bender on a dirty mattress on the floor of a crack house to once again become a caffeine free vessel?

And what a weak vessel I am.

Let's just say after 70 hours, 51 minutes and 19 seconds of NARY A DROP OF POP...I faltered in my journey.

But I am not without an excuse.

At 10:51 PM, I found myself in line at McD**alds with my 89 cents (.95 actually, with tax) in hand. It was like aliens swooped down and steered my car into the drive thru line while I just sat helplessly by staring into the light and saying nothing. Or like when you're watching Knight Rider and Kit just takes over and David Hasselhoff lets the talking car take the lead. Yes, my Suburban was Kit and I was merely the embodiment of The Hoff in the drivers seat. Minus the black leather pants, of course. (Although, with my extra eight pounds, I no longer fit into my leather pants.)



And actually, had I been in bed and sleeping at 10:51 PM, like a NORMAL HUMAN BEING who has to get up at 6 AM, I would not have been in the car when Kit needed to hit the McD**alds drive thru.

But I was not in bed sleeping, I was next door to the McD**alds with the entire back of a full length Suburban filled with at least 19 bags of groceries. Yes, at 10:51 at night. As in, almost 11 PM.

And why?

Because I had been avoiding going out all weekend in an effort to drive by any place that had golden arches in front of it and sold Coke in a 42 oz. cup with ice and a perfectly proportioned red and yellow striped straw.

Because I was fighting my habit, you see. And for the glorious 70+ hours that I did not leave my block, I was winning.



Until I realized that tomorrow's hot lunch is something my daughter will not eat. Apparently, she is not a fan of zucchini and celery sticks around lunch time. Or really, any time. And I guess the school decided that tomorrow could not be Frito Lay snack day, but had to be healthy fresh vegetable day, so they forced my hand, and off I went into the great big world with golden arches looming around every corner in a quest to keep my family fed. Obviously the school didn't care about my personal struggles. Or the fact that I had no white bread in my house.

And while I was going to the grocery store, I figured I may as well stock up on the essentials so that I would not have to leave my house for at least another 6 days or so, thereby avoiding any fights with Kit or the aliens about pulling into a drive thru and ordering me a pop against my will.

And so at 9:30, I set off.

And at 10:45 I was finished. And weary.

The store I usually shop at, The Big W, is the BIGGEST store in the whole Northern Hemisphere. And I'll go out on a limb and include the Southern Hemisphere as well. It makes a Super Walmart look like a Walgreens. Seriously. You need to wear your walking shoes and bring a portable stool to rest on in order to shop there. There is no just 'running in' because whatever you may need is probably about 1.8 miles away from where you parked your car.

And why do I shop at The Big W? Well, because they have every flavor of every brand of every product that you could possibly ever imagined existed, and then a few more. It is an indecisive shoppers worst nightmare. Oh, and it's cheaper than shopping at my first choice, The Jewel.

Sadly, with the exception of deli meats and the occasional 10 for $10 sale, I really don't get to do much shopping anymore at the Cadillac of grocery stores, The Jewel. Something about our grocery budget, or something like that. Well, except for deli meats, because really my husband is a deli meat snob and The Big W's deli section just won't cut it. So for his sliced meat needs, I am allocated funds for The Jewel.

And what this all has to do with me drinking a pop tonight....I have absolutely no idea.

Oh....now I remember.

I finished up at The Big W, and might I just add one more thing regarding how big this place is? I forgot to get hot dogs buns while I was in the bread section and by the time I finished up in the freezer section,...well it was apparent to me that we would just be eating our grilled Cheddarwursts without buns this week, because there was no way I was walking back 27 aisles to go and get them.

So I check out, load up the entire trunk of my car and get in to drive home. My feet are hurting, I have a headache and seeing as how it is almost 11 o'clock at night and I've been without caffeine for over 70 hours, I am tired. And a bit cranky. And I know that I need a good 3.5 hours once I get home to put the groceries away.

And in a moment of weakness, I, (or was it Kit?), pulled past those golden arches, 89 cents in hand, and gave in to the pain.

And pain never tasted so sweet. Or bubbly.

And the groceries got put away, the lunches are made, the dryer is even going, and I still have a little spring in my step.

At least until tomorrow , when I crash and burn.

And start all over again.

See why I was in need of the prayers?

I'm Thinking That The Grandma Is Probably Sorry She Asked

A sweet, grandmotherly lady smiled at me and asked...

"Are they all yours?"


So I replied...

"Why no, I just enjoy the experience of shopping with 4 children at a crowded Walmart on a Saturday morning, so I borrowed the neighbors kids and brought them."


And then I said...

"Excuse my sarcasm ma'am, it's been a rough couple of days. The storms and all, you know. I've been with out power for about 24 hours and not had cable, phone, OR THE INTERNET, for 49 hours 12 minutes and 19 seconds. So I thought just the thing to calm my nerves would be a trip to Walmart with 4 monkeys who can't hold on to a shopping cart and walk in a straight line if their lives depended on it."

Lullaby and Goodnight; or Maybe More Aptly Titled: I Can't Believe I Just Wrote About Pee

I think I may be up all night. I was so tired today, we have had rain and dark skies for the past 5 days and the humidity has just been killer. I have had a headache for 4 days, I think because of the high humidity, and just overall have felt like I've been hit by a truck. This is a riveting read so far, right?
Anyway, today I really needed a nap this afternoon but instead, trucked all 4 kids off to the BIG BLUE STORE, known to others outside of my home as, quite simply, IKEA. More on that another time.
No nap today, so for sure thought I would get at least the two younger kids to bed and then head off to bed myself by at eight. I say no nap today, like a nap is actually a recurring thing in the afternoons for me, which IT IS NOT. Anyway, the older ones would watch TV or baseball with hubby and he could get them off to bed on his own. Tucked in the 3 year old, and off to Taco's room to sing him his 5 nighttime songs, but because my hubby keeps this house at a freezing 68 degrees, I had to crawl under the covers to do the singing and lullabying for the night because I was just to cold to sing on top of the covers. Who wouldn't be? Well, apparently singing lullabies under a big old comforter with a smiling farmer on it not only puts my son to sleep, but me as well. So at 7:20 this evening I was out for the night. Or so I thought.
But, as I do every night, I had to get up to use the bathroom. This means I had to pee, people.
And normally, when I go to sleep at 10 or 11, my normal bedtime hours, that puts me at waking up for a bathroom break at about 1 or 2 am. No problems ever going back to sleep. But, as I found out tonight, when you fall asleep 3 hours earlier than your norm, you wake up to pee three hours earlier...so you guessed it... at 10:30 I was wide awake. I tossed and turned for an hour trying to pretend I wasn't wide awake, but finally gave in and headed downstairs. Hubby was just on his way up to bed and gave me a weird look as I plopped on the couch, remote and laptop in hand. So, now it is almost 2am, what I guess one would call the wee hours, and I am contemplating getting up and organizing the junk drawer and maybe the cabinet in the kitchen that we keep all the medicine in. But first, I must finish watching my 3 hour session of Big Brother, After Dark. Emmy-winning TV, people, Emmy winning. Any questions you may have about bunny suits and back-stabbing, feel free to send them my way. Don't get me wrong, I do watch the weekly show, I laugh, and think it is fine for summer TV watching. But this Showtime After Dark show? Surely I could find a better use for 3 hours of my life. Or not.

The First Post

Catchy title, huh? So I feel like this should be a deep, meaningful entry, seeing as how I am trying yet again to keep a jounal. I would need all my fingers and toes to count up how many times I've tried to keep a journl in the past. And they all end up the same...empty. I've come to the conclusion that is not actually the act of journaling that I enjoy, but rather the buying of the leather-bound, full of clean and crisp white paper, satin ribbon attached, possibilities are endless type of book one would associate with the actual act of journaling. I've got the collection to prove how many good intentions I've had to keep a journal over the course of the years. Mostly they have one or two entries, or none, and they are collecting dust or being used for scratch paper. Maybe this type of journaling will be different for me. We'll see. I wish I was one of those people who had been keeping a journal forever. But I, being one that is easily sidetracked, have not been. I regret that. What an amazing gift to leave to your kids...the real you, your history...I guess that it is never to late to start. While on my journaling soapbox I decided to purchase journals for my two older daughters. Fiona is 9 and Choppy is 8. Actually, I just could not walk by these beautiful, empty books at my local Walmart without stopping to admire them. I could not just walk by and not buy them, of course not, but I knew I would sadly not be able t0 let these journals be all they were meant to be. So, I gifted my girls with them and one day they will thank me. When they are mothers themselves and able to go back and read the trials and tribulations of their own childhood. They will thank me for the lifetime gift that is a journal. OR, at the very least they can fill up a book of clean white paper in the time it takes me drive to home from the above mentioned Walmart.