Holiday Expectations

Let's see, Easter is, tsu tsu tsu tsu.... Five days away.  When I looked at the calendar and realized this this morning I thought, "Man.  Sure doesn't look very Easter-y around here."
Where's the dyed eggs?
Where's the bunny cutouts on the windows?
Where's the Easter Lillies?
Where's all the pastels?
Where's the Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs?  Where's the little bowl of Robin Eggs?
Where's the Peeps for crying out loud!

And that is when, yet another, harsh parenting reality hit me.

I'm the one that is responsible for doing all that stuff.
It's up to me to make holidays... special.
I'm the one that has to hang up the decorations and set everything out to make the eggs and get the kiddos all riled up.
If there's gonna be an Easter Egg Hunt.. uh.. I've gotta buy the eggs and put candy in them and hide them.  On top of all the regular mom stuff I do!  Jim-in-nee!
I've done really bad at celebrating holidays with Koley and Joe.
Kole's first Christmas he got one present from us.  One.
And it was pajamas.
That he needed.
His first Halloween I borrowed a costume on Halloween from my friend.
All the other holidays? Nothing happened.
Ken has helped tremendously to get the holiday ball rolling... but if he's not involved it's just a flop.
Like, this past Valentine's Day I hung up some window clings and a heart... on Valentine's day.  We made some construction paper cutouts... but I just kept thinking "I'm glad you're young... because this is sad."  I celebrated St. Patrick's Day by wearing green.  And Kole was in a shirt that had like "A" speck of green on it.  He didn't even know.  For his birthday last year... Ken made the cake.  And bought the presents.  And I was like... "Hey man, Happy Birthday!"  I did have a two week old baby... but still.  I'm the mother.  Shouldn't there have been a birthday countdown?  And balloons?  And a big birthday sign?  And special birthday privileges?  Oh the shame burns hot within me.   I will give myself props for Christmas.  Christmas was good.  I nailed it.  Except for the part where I didn't tell Kole Santa left after dropping off presents.  Kole was fully expecting to see the Jolly Old Soul there on Christmas morning and was slightly deflated upon finding he wasn't.  Bummer.
Other than that... nailed it.
Strange thing is. I love holidays.  I love all of them.  And I love parties for them.  I just like being invited to the party.  Not hosting the party.

But, with 5 days to Easter, I've seen that I need to host the party for every holiday.  Or it will just be another day.
I gotta give these boys something to look forward to and something to remember.
So, while the energy was still up I told Kole about Easter... how Jesus died and then rose on the 3rd day. I showed him some pictures in his little kid Bible.  And then I made an attempt at a segway for the Easter Bunny.  Really struggled there.  Luckily, Kole is two and heard "candy" and all was well.
I told Kole we were going to dye Easter Eggs and put up fun bunny pictures and eat special treats.  And on Sunday the Easter Bunny was going to come and hide a basket full of treats and/or toys.  (Depending on what I pick up at the store.)
To which Kole added, "Yeah!  And we'll put up the tree!  With lights!  And presents!  And candy canes!"
Really nailed Christmas with this kid.
It's a start.
I've got some work to do on the rest of these holidays.  But, I can be a good mom.  I promise.
This place is going to be Easter CENTRAL!  After Ken comes home, and we eat, and put the kids to bed, and I go to the store and get decorations, and candy, and eggs, and dye, and matching outfits for Sunday.
Easter Central.

Game Time

Here's a fun game:
Pick a number 1 to 3.

Got it?  Do you need to write it down? 
Really?  You do?  How old are you? 100 years old?

Now pick another number 1 to 10.

I understand if you need to write this number down.  Remembering two numbers is harder than remembering one.  Certainly more than twice as hard.

Got your two numbers?

Now... click on the Motherhood Tab and read the post that matches!

Your first number will be the column.  Second number is the row.

It took me a lot of work to get that tab done... so indulge me as much as I plan on it indulging you.

And feel free to read more than just your chosen number.  It's Friday.  Blow off work and read blogs instead.

Hunger Games

I just read the Hunger Games trilogy in 4 days.
I read book one in 36 hours about 2 weeks ago.  I had to take a break because when I dive into a book like that and just read read read... it becomes a reality.  It's happened before.  And being in The Arena as a tribute wasn't a good reality.
In fact, one night, Joey started crying for his mid-night feeding.  I was half asleep and started to swing my legs over the side of the bed.. when I froze... and thought... It's a trick.  They're trying to lure you in there.  It's a trick.  A trap!  Don't go.  They'll kill you.  You don't even have any weapons yet.  It was more than a minute or two I sat there debating what should be done.  Risk it and feed the baby?  Practically giving myself to the Career Tributes?  Or should I devise a plan.  What if Joey really is in trouble?  He's not really my ally... but I care about him.  I don't want him to die.  I need a plan!  I need a bow!  Maybe Haymitch will send me a silver parachute. *nodding* I should wait for the parachute.  Joey's still screaming!  What if there are trackerjackers in there?  Agh!  I need water.  I need a plan.  I miss District 12.
I snapped back when Ken rolled over and asked what I was doing sitting on the edge of the bed.
I knew he wouldn't understand... and figured I would sound prit--tee crazy.  So I went in and fed Joey.
And as I sat in his room, tensely watching the door to see if Foxface or Clove were going to whip around the corner and kill us... I decided I wasn't ready to read the second one.  I needed to acclimate myself with reality. 
But once I finished Catching Fire it seemed pointless (and too hard to wait) to stop there.  So I grabbed Mockingjay and read it.  Really fast.
And now, after I ignored my kids and Ken for a few days, all I think about is Peeta.  And Katniss.  And Prim.  And President Coin.  Egh!  I worry about Gale in District 2.  And Haymitch.  He needs someone.  I think about Greasy Sae, Pollux, Finnick, Annie, President Snow, Octavius, and Rue.  Cinna is on my mind.  I even think about Effie Trinket.  And Madge. And Beetee. And little old Mags.  But mostly, I think of Peeta.
Because.
Because.
Because, I'm in love with him.

And it could be just because he's newer... but I might love him more than Ron Weasley.
Peeta and Patty.  It just sounds cute, huh? 

Whew. *sigh* I'm into this thing deep.  And I feel bad that I snubbed it for so many years.  Sorry fellow Hunger Games fans.  I thought you were lame for wearing your Mockingjay Pins and drinking your Pine Needle Tea when you could have been practicing Quidditch on your Firebolt or drinking Butter Beer.  I thought it would be dumb.  And a let down.  And not worth my time.  I thought... I thought.... IthoughtIwasaboveit.  I apologize.  Because I was wrong.  And now, like you, I'm obsessed.

Sidenote:  I watched the Hunger Games movie directly after I finished the first book and was let down.  I enjoyed the love story in the book.  The history Peeta and Katniss shared without even realizing it.  I enjoyed all the strategies and the mind games.  And those are hard to relate on film... so it seems like the movie makers didn't even try.  But in my case book always trumps movie. 100% of the time.  Except for Twilight.  When both are pretty bad.  The only other time movie trumps books is The Notebook.  Because, Ryan Gosling.  Boom.

Second Sidenote:  Don't hold me to that "I love Peeta More Than Ron Weasley" statement.  I'm still weighing out my options.

Poulsen Plantation

Ken and I moved into a home with 2 acres of land behind it.  It has a very rural peaceful feeling.  I've contemplated calling it "Tara."  I think the name was lost on Ken (and maybe others).
Kole likes to take "hikes" back there.  There's lots for a little boy to love.  Deer, foxes, snakes, horse poop, deer poop, a trough... that in a moment when I couldn't remember the word "trough" I told Kole it was a deer bath.  I didn't say, "It's to hold water for animals."  I said, "It's a deer bath."  And now that's what Kole calls it.  It's at the very end of the acreage so it's normally our destination point.  To The Deer Bath!  Maybe we'll catch 'em scrubbing down before bed.

With Spring here (I said it.  Cats out of the bag!  It's officially Spring.)  Ken and I have been making plans for our new Plantation.  Or maybe Compound.  Sorta depends on which way we go with it.  I thought Poulsen Plantation.  But when I said Plantation I said it all sing-songy and made me think of  "A Dalmatian Plantation!"  Darn every last one of those 101 Dalmatians.  It's all I think of now when I say Poulsen DALMATIAN Plantation.  It just slips in unwanted.
Ken thinks another woman or two couldn't hurt thus making it a Compound... and, honestly, I'd welcome the help.  He might be on to something. 

We have plans for a big garden.  With way more fruits and vegetables than we can eat.  I know this because I went and bought seed two nights ago.  I bought 19 packs.  And yeah, I got the Swiss Chard.  I don't know what Swiss Chard tastes like but it sure sounded classy so I bought some Swiss Chard Seeds.  Try saying that out loud.  It comes out Swiss Chard Sheeds.  I have a tiller reserved for March 30.  We'll dig out the garden spot, stake a fence, and commence!  (Note to self:  Make friends so I have someone to give vegetables to.  Or just buy canning supplies and learn to can.)

Behind our garden spot is a miniature orchard of sorts.  It already has two peach trees, two apple trees, a pear tree, and a raspberry bush.  But, Costco had fruit trees for $11!  Did I say that loudly enough ELEVEN DOLLARS!  I wanted to score a cherry tree and a plum tree.  Yet to make that happen.  I'd like to add a sitting area and some flower beds to the orchard.  Because fruit trees are just so pretty and lush.  Oooo!  Maybe a hammock.  Wouldn't a little bird bath would be just darling.  Some paths.  Kids love paths.  I love paths. Instant game.  

Beyond The Orchard, there's a big red barn (tours given daily).  The barn will work well for shelter when we move the goats or sheep in.  Ken wants to put a little chicken coop back there too.

I'm thinking of adding a greenhouse... and heck... a water feature too.  I know I've lost it.
Doesn't it sound dreamy here?  So country.  A place to sit back and watch the grass grow and sip lemonade while wearing a big hat.



In about 5 years it will be that place.
For now?

*Sigh*
We are past overgrown.  Nature has taken over.  There are trees that have grown through chain link fences. Bushes that are over 20 feet tall.  And all those gorgeous, luscious, shade providing fruit trees... haven't been pruned in, I'd guess, 4 or 5 years.  And are about one third dead.  *defeated sigh*  And the barn... is... well... kinda falling a part. 

And it has some trees growing in/through it. 
But, *clears throat* there's potential. 
Just needs some trimming.

Come on.  Bear with me.  It's Spring!
There's blooms and buds on everything.  It smells fresh and open and new.  It's exciting. 
We've started cutting down and cutting back and cutting out.  And we have what appears to be 6 beaver dams scattered around our yard.

It's a work in progress.  But I've got big dreams for this place. 
And...

 With God as my witness!
*shakes fist doggedly in the air*

New Car. Fresh Start.

We got a new car.  What's UP!?!  I love love love it.  And of course it's not really new.  Because if I had the bank roll to get a new new car I'd be in a Maserati Monday through Friday and bumped up in a Land Rover on my weekends.

That's our new boat too. All parked in front of the land we just bought in Maine.

My new car is a 2010 Subaru Forester.  Lllllll-oaded.  We're talking... sun roof.  Leather seats.  No.  "X" that.  Heated leather seats.  6-disc CD changer.  Special button to pop the gas tank open.  Cool plug in for my iPatty.  Cruise control.  Power windows.  Overhead storage console.  Ample cargo room.  All season tires.  All wheel drive.  Privacy glass.  It had satellite radio for a day (until the previous owners cancelled it.)  A key button to lock it and unlock it or pop the trunk.  It beeps when it's locked.  Currently mapping 27 miles to the gallon.  It's shiny!  And it has a plastic slide in mat for the trunk so I don't get it too dirty with all my outdoor activities I do now that I'm a Subaru owner.
Can I tell you how much I feel like a Subaru person?
You know the type, right?  Bike rack, ski rack, kayak rack.  Decked out in REI clothes.  Oakley sunglasses with the bands to keep them around their neck.  Tan all year.  Always smiling.  Listens to a lot of Dave Matthews.  Super in shape.  Makes their own granola (and deodorant and soap).  Eats organic.  Shops at Whole Foods.  Considers themselves a global citizen.  Has bumper stickers of all the hikes they've been on.  And National Parks they've visited.
You know.  Subaru people.

That's me.  Minus...ahhhh.... All of that besides "always smiling."  I do shop at Whole Foods.  Occasionally.  When I'm in the mood for one of their big ol' cookies.  And I like to hike and be outside... but with the toddies being born I haven't much.  And, my face stays pretty thin even when my backside looks like a bubble and I have a beer belly caused by cookies.  But you can't really see that when I'm sitting down in the car.  So.... fake it 'til you make it!

Might want to get a Coexist bumper sticker just to be on the safe side.

I definitely do want a bumper sticker for this car.  A way to say hello to people while driving.  I was thinking something like this:

Even though I recently discovered... I'm kinda a democrat... and I'm against Voldemort.  I just get a kick out of this.

 OR!

Ken is looking for a bumper sticker that says "Pro Gluten."  Because he supports Gluten.  Even though there are so many against it right now.

So... all in all... we're open to suggestions.

Why I Wear Green

A lot of people Most people Everyone thinks St. Patrick's Day is for Irish people.
A little off there.
As with all of the worlds best... we wouldn't even have St. Patrick's Day if it wasn't for us Italians.

When we were little this is the lesson our Mom taught us:

St. Patrick was Italian.  
He visited Ireland and brought Christianity to the Irish.  
He used the clover to teach about the Godhead.  
Three leaves on one plant.  Father.  Son.  Holy Ghost. 

My mom then encouraged us to wear green to show our Italian Pride.
How could you not be proud to be Italian?  Amadeo Giannini started the Bank of America and financed The Golden Gate Bridge.  You're welcome San Fran.  Leonard Riggio started a little bookshop called Barnes and Noble.  Lee Iacocca?  Chrysler?  Sinatra.  Stallone. Durante. DiMaggio. Columbus comma Christopher.  Yogi Berra. Andrea Bocelli.  Vince Lombardi.  Alphonse Capone.  Jacuzzi isn't just a clever name you know.  Italians have brought you espresso, pizza, pretzels, ice cream cones, cologne, eye glasses, violins, typewriters, and batteries.

I think it's the least we can do to wear green on St. Patrick's Day. 

Trouble in Paradise.

Monday night we were outside grilling.  Rephrase: Ken was grilling spicy salmon and asparagus, I was holding Joey and looking for animals with Kole.  We got lucky and saw a fox, a mouse, 4 deer, and... wait for it, WAIT FOR IT....!
A snake.

Yup!  Old Mr. snake is back from last year.  But a little longer a little plumper.  Maybe it's a different snake all together.  Who knows.  I spent the winter talking to myself and pumping myself up for all the critters that live in my yard.  I resolved to be brave and use them to enhance Kole's life as a boy who loves disgusting stinky slimy things.  So the snake was pure gold.  For me and Kole.  And heck, I'll throw Joey in that mix.  Ken, on the other hand, abhorred having that snake crawl around the patio.  He kept claiming the snake was hissing at him.  Bear in mind, the snake is a garter snake.  Maybe maybe 12 inches long and about the thickness of a Slurpee straw.  So hissing?  Probably not.
As Ken did his best to avoid the snake (taking huge steps over it, hopping to skip steps, walking around the entire house to avoid using the back door) Kole and I watched as the snake-y slithered around and found it's way around the patio. 
He slid through some bushes and then turned and slid right close to the house.  Stopping occasionally to stick his tongue out and enjoy the fresh air.  Kole and I were fascinated.  (Joey was watching birds.)  The snake slid along the back porch steps, turned to look at us, and then pa-loop went right into a hole in the cement on our house!
That's right.

Then the snake that belongs outside in nature slid into a hole than I am sure leads to my house.
Then I was all Satan get thee hence.

Because I'm pretty sure the crawl space under my house looks like this now:

 Possibly even with Indiana Jones down there.  Unless he got eaten by Nagini (who, yeah, lives in the snake pit under my house.)

Poor Indy.  Stuck under my house with ten thousand snakes.  I gotta tell you.  It's a little hard to sleep knowing they're under there.  Slithering.  Hissing.  And plotting to overtake the castle.  Probably figuring out a way to come up through the vents or drains.

Weather Calls for Juli

Dang it is hard to blog while the weather is warm.  (Warm is above 50 degrees.)  I think that would make me a "foul-weather blogger."  (Get it?  Like fair weather friend?  But the opposite... foul weather?  And not a friend but a blogger?  Too much of a stretch?)  Back to bizznazz.  So, today, The Koley pushes his Tonka trucks around the yard, and The Joey rolls on his blanket, and I read my Oprah in my new Adirondack chair... my friend, Juli, from Surviving Boys is going to share some words of wisdom about raising kids.

Take it away Jules-

Dear Patty,

Thanks so much for inviting me over to your place.  It's looking so fresh and new here, I am almost afraid to touch anything.  (Seriously, you want me to take my shoes off at the door, because I'm good with that.  Really, it's no bother.)  I had spent hours in deep thought coming up with the perfect words to bring to you, when I realized I don't have any really good advice.  Only nuggets of wisdom learned the hard way, that have worked in my favor. I also have two boys, but at 11 and 12 our days of diapers, pacifiers, and colic are long behind us. My sons came after 5 years of marriage, at a time when being a mother was all I wanted.  I thought knew exactly how it would be. I knew there would be struggles, but thought it would be far outweighed by the joy and fulfillment of raising a child.

I was really, REALLY, wrong.  

No one tells you the REAL stuff or the blind side that comes from having more than one. Because as you well know, the workload is not just multiplied by two, but rather an exponential logarithm of mathematical proportions.  

So perhaps the first nugget of wisdom I have for you is this: Whatever it is, it's okay.  The uncertainty of my becoming a mother only magnified the guilt that came with my frustration, fatigue, and discontent.  People made me feel like I was crazy for feigning interest after the first month of steps, because honestly I just wanted them to stand still long enough for me to use the bathroom. The day will come when all you want is the ball, that you've watched go down the slide 230 times, to hit you in the head and knock you unconscious so you can get just 15 minutes of sleep. Days when you don't want to get dressed, because that just means more laundry.  It's okay when they ask question after question, to nod an enthusiastic "Ah-huh"  and not take your eyes off what you are doing.  Cereal is totally acceptable for dinner, as is ice cream.  At the end of the day whatever you're beating yourself up over right now, won't matter in a week.  

Boys are just wired differently than girls. They don't process or react like we do. If it is gross, explosive, or smelly, they will find it. They will think it's perfectly acceptable to pee outside.  They will squish a few frogs, stick worms in their pockets, and and poke dog poop with a stick. Nothing will ever be funnier than a fart. Don't fight it.  Embrace it. Teach them to say "Excuse me", and move on. There are much bigger battles than these, I assure you.

Regardless of how much you try and keep the real world out, it will find it's way in.  They will make guns from Legos or sticks even if they've never so much as held a squirt gun. Doing this will not heighten their propensity for violence, even if they choose to modify their Nerf gun to shoot 45 foam darts at your keester while you're unloading the dishwasher. (But it will get them grounded for a month.)  They will pretend to smoke pretzel sticks. They will fight with fists, and try out inappropriate words.   Raise them with your values, teach them what's healthy and good, and then pray everyday that when the time comes they make responsible decisions. Hold them to those choices, Patty, there is tremendous value in knowing consequences, good and bad.  

Perhaps the biggest nugget of wisdom I have learned over the last twelve years is not about raising boys, but about raising myself. Tony is an amazing step-dad, but I am their only surviving parent.  Keeping myself healthy is just as important, if not more important, as keeping them healthy.  Go to the doctor Patty, take your vitamins.  Exercise, if not just for your heart, but for your mind.  Listen to that voice inside you, and trust your instincts. Just because advice comes from a trained professional does not mean it's the right advice.  Accept that you can only choose your path and dreams, just as your parents couldn't choose yours for you. Every failure allows us opportunity. My failed marriage allowed me to be a better mother, discovering a passion and strength I could never have otherwise achieved. I believe with every ounce of my being that the boys are destined for great things, which would mean nothing if I did not believe that for myself.  After all, I am the tree from which they fell. Believe that for yourself Patty, and they will follow.

I would be remiss if I did not add a few words for Ken here as well.  Hold her hand Ken, and as tired as you both are at the end of the day, value your couch time together.  Believe that the sacrifices she makes working in at home are just as important as the ones you make working outside the home.  Bring her home flowers and thank her for dinner.  Perhaps you do that everyday anyway, but make sure she hears it.  Find time to remember why you fell in love, and realize how easy it is to fall out of it.  And most important tell her she's pretty, radiant, amazing, hot, and sexy, even if she hasn't showered in two days.  

(((HUGS)))

-Juli

How to Accept an Apology

Answer me this:
What do you say after someone says they're sorry?

With little kiddo ma griddos I always say, "That's okay."  Because, really, it is okay.
Kole breaks something, says sorry, and I'm over it.
"That's okay."

But what about in adult relationships?

When Ken says sorry.... the first thoughts in my head are:
1.  Yeah.  You better be.
2.  I know you are.
3.  You're sorry.  Aaaannnnd?
4.  Sorry means you'll never do it again.  Did you know that? Do you promise to never do it again?

It seems weird to say, "That's okay" to an adult.  But when I'm not thinking unkind things... my next thought is to apologize myself.  (Even if I did nothing wrong... truthfully... not just saying selfishly.) I'll end up saying I overreacted or it wasn't that big of a deal anyway.  And then I feel slightly compromised.  Or I think of lecturing.  Lose lose sit-ee-a-shun.

I just can't think of the right response.

I'm sorry.
We'll make it.

I'm sorry.
Remorse is so important.

I'm sorry.
I still like you.

I'm sorry.
I accept. 

Is there a pat response I never knew about?  Like Thank You/ You're Welcome?  *Sneeze*/Bless you? 
I'm sorry/ ________ ?

Captured.

The whole idea of taking pictures with your phone has been dumb to me since day one.  Maybe because I never had a camera on my phone.  And I live by a rule similar to "If you can't beat 'em join them."  My rule is, "If you can't join 'em, despise 'em and call what they are doing dumb."
But a month ago, I had to say goodbye to my dearly beloved flip phone.  When they gave us our free upgrades they were iPhone 4s!  And while I am still learning the basics like checking my voice mail, not hanging up on people, what all the rings and beeps and dings mean, I have mastered the camera.
Somewhat addictive.
Addictive in a way that in the one month I've had my phone... minus let's say 3 days to figure out the camera.... I've taken 547 pictures.  FIVE HUNDRED FORTY-SEVEN!  Scary.  Scary because five hundred forty-seven exciting things have not happened in the last 30 days.  Which means I am becoming that person who takes pictures of my kids doing nothing.  Or doing ordinary things.  And then because I took a picture it should be extraordinary.  Only it's not.  It's still just Kole eating breakfast.  Or Joey sucking on a toy car.  So glad I captured that.  How else would I ever remember breakfast on March 6?
547 is excessive.  And you're welcome, since I didn't post them all to Instagram.
But going through those 547... there were some real gems.

We were blowing on Joey's face to make him smile... we blew too hard and scared Aunt Julie.

Julie's attempt at a Gluten-free cake.  Looked terrible. Tasted awesome.

Kole went "shopping" and bought me all stuff that I bought him once!

Rollercoaster cart!

Good scrolling.  And, yeah, you counted right.  25 pictures on this here post.  But consider my starting point.  I did pretty good narrowing down.  And! The  picture of Greta's crack-elly birthday cake was the only food picture on there.  So I haven't lost complete control yet.

Joey's Veggie Tales

Joey has Cradle Cap.  Which I often call Cradle Crap on accident.  It's a tongue twister in my book.  The name Cradle Crap makes more sense.  It's crappy that there is no reason for it.  It's crappy there is no real cure for it.  It looks crappy.  And makes me feel like a crappy mom when people look at Joey's head and then give me one of those squinty eyes head shaking looks.  That say, "Give that poor urchin a bath.  Scrub his poor peeling head."
I do!, I plead, It doesn't go away!  Nothing makes it go away!  Cast your looks elsewhere!

This is the Wikipedia's baby.  He has Cradle Cap too.

 It doesn't cause any pain or discomfort.  It just looks snake-y.  And not in a cool Slytherin way.  (Who am I kidding? Slytherin isn't cool, you Death Eater.)  When Joe had his 6 month check up the doctor said he heard a wives tale that you could rub oil on it and let it soak for a half hour and then it would be gone.  When I asked what kind of oil, I expected to hear something like Patchouli Oil imported from Egypt.  But he shrugged his shoulders and said, "Baby oil?"
Yeah.  Duh, Patty.  Baby oil.  That makes sense.  And it's like $1.50 at Walgreens.
However, Joey's appointment was over a month ago and I still haven't committed that $1.50 to help his head.  So, I got it in my head that if Baby Oil would work... wouldn't any oil?
Wouldn't Vegetable Oil?
Wouldn't Wesson's 100% Natural Best Blend A Blend of Pure Vegetable & Canola Oils ?

I had that in the cupboard.  Couldn't hurt.  Right?
I convinced Ken to rub it onto Joey's little head.  Joey just smiled and smiled.  Like all puppies, Joey likes getting his head rubbed.
We let it soak in for 30 minutes and then threw him in the tub.
And....

Healed.
Plus... his hair is super soft and shiny now.  I'm thinking I might bring the Wesson bottle in the shower with me and see what happens.  Couldn't hurt.  Right?

With Spring Comes Change

I am putting it on the record that the snow is done here.
I can't take another snow storm.

Old dreary Winter Patty is going into summer hibernation and warm, Peppy Patty is back.  (Does Peppy Patty sound better than Patty Peppy?  Try it.  Peppy Patty.  Patty Peppy.  Are you thinking about Pepe le Pew now?)

I'm a Leo.
And, generally, I think all that horoscope, Saturn being the house of Moons during the transition of the stars-  is zodiac malarky...

Therefore, the fact that I check on my daily horoscope is kept mostly under my hat.
But since we're on the topic:

You and a friend could come up with the same words at the same time, which might be a little disconcerting for both of you. 

Wait.  Were you going to say that?  Right now?  No WAY!  That was a little disconcerting.

Still, this increased intuition is likely to help your understanding of those close to you more than you ever expected. Make the most of it, and remember what you learn.

Thanks www.horoscope.com I do feel an increase in my intuition.  It's telling me to get back on topic.


The sun rejuvenates me.
Maybe because I'm a Leo.  Maybe because I'm human. 

The sun shining has caused this Leo to shake out her mane and do some Spring Things.

1.  Gardening class at a local Nursery last Saturday.  Awesome.  I learned that pruning is an art not a science.  It can take years to master.  But I went lopper ker-AZY when I got home.  And I asked for a chainsaw for Mother's Day.  You don't normally thinking pruning and chainsaw together.  But you haven't seen my back yard/orchard. 

2.  Took a walk with Kolerooski and Jo Bob Millionaire.  We live on a busier street.  But after a careful (and stressful) crossing into safer pastures, we toured the neighborhood.  Just walked up and down streets.  Saw tulips and daffodils popping up.  Saw a few blue blooms on some flowers... not crocuses... but obviously an early bloomer.  Kole called every mailbox "cute."  Which, at first, was cute.  But then after the 75th mailbox I was like, "What's cute about that one?  It's all rusty."  I must of burst his bubble because he switched to cute rocks instead.

3.  Cleaned out under the sink.  I hate it under there.  It's dark.  Stuff misses the garbage can and just rots there.  There have been carrot peels there for at least 45 days. There's no organization.  There's probably spiders.  And I just... beghhh.  Yuck.  But something about that sun shining through the kitchen windows!  Opened it up! Donned my rubber gloves!  And presto.  Cleaned.  5 minutes too.  What CAN'T I do?!

4.  This is the big one.  Applied for school.  I quit school 5 years ago.  I've tried sugar coating it all this time with things like I'm just taking a break and I had to put Ken through school and I got pregnant and then there were babies and excuses, excuses, excuses!  I applied to The University of Utah.  Tomorrow I have an appointment with a counselor to get my classes lined up.  If I can get in.  I am really hoping I get in. 

The sunny weather has got me thinking I probably will. 

What about you?  Anything Spring in your future?

The Best?

Best Inexpensive Shampoo: Suave Rosemary and Mint
Best Show on Netlifx Streaming:  The Wonder Years
Best Instant Pick Me Up:  Wash my hands, wash my face, brush my teeth
Best Cereal:  Honeycomb
Best Show to Watch at the Gym at 7pm: The Colbert Report
Best Show to Watch at the Gym at 8pm:  The Daily Show with Jon Stewart
Best Show to Watch at the Gym at 9pm: Sex and the City
Best Salty Snack: BBQ Potato Chips
Best Toothpaste: Crest 3D White Vivid
Best Radio Station in Salt Lake Area: 92.5
Best Laundry Detergent: Kirkland Signature
Best Way to Check for Cavities: Eat Skittles
Best Harry Potter Book: The Prisoner of Azkaban
Best Harry Potter Movie: Deathly Hallows Part I
Best Hardwater Remover: Bar Keepers Friend 
Best Recent Neil Diamond Song:  I Don't See You Again (Yeah the genius is still making music.)

Best Internet Password: I'll never tell.
Best Password to use for Kids: "Apple"
Best Jimmy Buffet Song:  Juicy Fruit
Best Pen: Pilot G-2
Best Computer/App Game: Plants vs. Zombies
Best Character on The Sopranos: Silvio Dante
Best Way to Run Out Of Breath: Do Jumping Jacks
Best Time for Lunch:  Noon.  No brainer.
Best Ketchup:  Heinz
Best Bubblicious Flavor:  Watermelon Wave



Go ahead.  Ask me another one.  I got this.