Your Girl or the World's Girl?

"From all that I had read of history and government of human life and manners, I had drawn this conclusion, that the manners of women were the most infallible barometer to ascertain the degree of morality and virtue of a nation."

-President John Quincy Adams

Do you every feel like you were born in the wrong time? I often wonder what it would have been like to live in the 50's. I have a dear friend, Kristy, who was totally born in the wrong era. She is the epitome of the 50's mom...with a little edge to her. She is capable of keeping up with world around her, but she has old fashioned values and that's just one of the things that I love about her.

I would have probably been a stay-at-home mom who could cook and clean and look pretty doing it. Women were just different back then. They were...ladies. They wore skirts and their makeup was modest and they cared about looking nice for their husbands and they were the primary caretakers of the whole family. While some of us still can claim that title, can we say that we do it with our whole heart and take great pride and joy in the mundane little tasks of running a household? Do you care today whether your hair looks perfect all the time or if your husband feels like he is taken care of and he doesn't have to waste any time wondering what is for dinner or if you remembered to pay the water bill? The world moves at such a fast pace that we are willing to sacrifice important family dynamics just to get through a day. I have always been a fan of women's liberties. We should get to vote, work and have an opinion. But these liberties sometimes blur the lines of what God wants for our families.

Recently, I began a bible study by Vickie Courtney entitled "Your Girl". I picked this book up at Lifeway because I was searching for something that would help me guide my daughter through what will no doubt be the most confusing, traumatic, wonderful, impactful time of her life...tweenhood.

Avery is only 8, but already she has begun to make the transition from toys to books and art and jewelry and fake nails and everything else that makes me want to cry. I already miss that little girl with the thick plastic pink glasses and pigtails. She is not completely independent, but she has begun to change her own earrings and spritz herself with perfume. I want to put a rock on her head so that she can't get any bigger because she is my precious angel and I will be lost without her, but I can't. God gives you these little gifts called babies and before you know it they are grown and gone from your daily life. They need you less and less every day. And though it is painful, it is blissful and even knowing the outcome, I wouldn't change a thing.

There are times when I wish that I could turn back the clock and hold my babies again. Their fat, drool covered fingers reaching for the face that I have just spent 20 minutes making up while they sat outside the bathroom door and cried from a broken heart because those few minutes apart are more than they can handle. That soft baby smell that you can only get if you hold them just under your chin and breathe in all that they are. The soft belly laugh that belongs solely to them. The look on their face when you walk into their room early in the morning to greet them and they are as excited as they will ever be because they missed you desperately through the night. These are just a few of the things that I wish I could get back, if even for a day.

But life goes on. They grow and evolve into little people with opinions and likes and dislikes and questions and insecurities and attitudes, but one thing that never changes is the influence that we as mothers have. A wonderful woman that I go to church with, Ms. Pat, always says to never underestimate the power of your influence. I believe that with all my heart. My kids are a product of the environment in which I allow them to live. My opinions, dislikes and insecurities can easily be theirs, so it is imperative that I keep my hand in God's at all times so that I am leading them in the right direction.

I'm only in the second chapter of this book and I have already learned so much. The startling statistics that effect young girls today are more than I ever realized. Between television, magazines, family dynamics and our feminist society, these girls don't stand a chance. I have always believed that everything your child is and will become starts at home. If I want Avery to grow up to be a woman that cherishes God and respects her family and friends, then I need to show her how. I wouldn't give her a sewing machine and tell her to make herself a dress. I would show her how it works and I would explain choosing a pattern and I would help her with the buttons and hems. (Actually I would get my mom, or Jessi, or Cathy, or Kristy, or pretty much anyone but me to do this because I can't really sew, but you get the point.)

How will Avery know to be a strong Christian woman if I don't show her? Kids don't come with an instruction manual. You have to figure it out as you go, but there is hope. We have the book for all questions and answers right at our finger tips. The Bible.

Paul writes in Ephesians 6:4 - And, ye fathers, provoke not your children to wrath: but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.

This is our challenge, ladies, should we choose to accept it. If your children mean the world to you like mine do to me, then make it your life's ambition to bring them up in the ways of the Lord. Start small. Pray for them. This is the greatest and least thing you can ever do for them. Lead by example in all your interactions and conversations. Treat them like little people. Don't water down the important stuff so much that it slips right through their fingers. Instill REAL values in them. Don't let your children fall victim to the society that we live in. Dream BIG for them, but don't encourage them to cast aside what is of true importance to gain something of this world that won't last. They can't take any of it with them when they go, so concentrate on helping them get what they will need to get where the Lord wants them to go.

I hope to start a mother's bible study at church on this very book when I finish it myself. If you want to read it now, you can order it from Lifeway. It is called Your Girl, by Vicki Courtney.

Good luck this week on making sure your kids know that they are loved and that you are there to co-pilot their lifeship.

Consuming Conspiracy

I was shopping at Walgreen's yesterday when I came across the school supplies. I had been in on Monday to snatch up the deals that I had found in my weekly flyer. What with the fortune that you have to spend on school supplies, every little penny counts. I don't mind going to a few different places to get what's on the list if it saves the fam some money. While my daughter perused the shelves of endless supplies, I took notice of the prices, storing this in my memory so that when I go to a different store, I will know which one had the better deal. Does anything in these pictures look odd to you?

These supplies come in ready marked bulk boxes like candy does. You might think that Walgreen's would be a little wiser than you average gas station, right? But clearly they are far from it. The gas station attendant knows to rip the price off the actual display box instead of doubling it on the shelf tag below it, confusing the consumer. So, the geniuses at Walgreen's have been lazy enough to put their items on display in the box they came in. Normally, this wouldn't be that big of a snaffu, but the display boxes have a different, more reasonable, price than what Walgreen's is actually asking. Notice that the composition notebooks are "suggested" to be $.49 and Walgreen's is doubling that suggestion to charge $.99 and the glue sticks should be $1.29 but Walgreen's thinks they are worth $1.99...Hello, can I speak to a manager?

Now, I am bringing this to your attention because I care and because I like it when a store that I frequent makes a total blunder. It makes me smile. Here is my advice: When you go shopping for school supplies this summer, remember to comparison shop and to check your sales ads for the best deal. Don't be stupid enough to pay $.99 for a notebook, when more than likely that same manufacturer is supplying another store and you can get it for closer to the "suggested" price.

P.S. If anyone who is affiliated with Walgreen's reads this...keep up the good work. LOL

Paging Mr. James...The Rest of Us Would Like to Get on with Our Lives

In our house, the television tends to stay within a few channels; Disney (any of the 5), HGTV, DIY (which has been the catalyst for some of the dumbest ideas my husband has ever had, bless his heart), the Discovery Channel (I have a little crush on Mike Rowe) and ESPN (any of them). We don't get outside of our comfort zone too often. I don't complain about this fact. It is what it is.

Typically, several times a day you will find the tv on ESPN because God forbid we miss a score. And honestly, I don't mind to watch Sportscenter. I actually enjoy the top 10 plays/bloopers. However, I do have a problem with the constant coverage on Lebron James.

I don't think that NBC, CBS, CNN and all the other networks spent as much time on the 9/11 crisis as ESPN has on the mystery of where Lebron James is going to bounce a ball for the next 5 years. WHO CARES?!?!? Seriously, the man doesn't have the cure for cancer, he has a great jump shot. That's it. He's talented at basketball. I don't deny that he is one of the greatest, but come on!! He is slated to make more money than all of the people I know, their children and their grandchildren will in their lifetimes. Ridiculous!!!

Anyone who knows me understands how much I love basketball. I like every aspect of it. Playing, watching, coaching. It's all good. I really don't like professional sports. They take the heart of the game away and replace it with endorsements and shenanigans. Years ago, when I was a kid, I enjoyed it. The players were just that, players. They didn't have paparazzi following them around and their wives didn't have a tv show on VH1, which, by the way, is ASININE!! They just played ball and they were applauded for the talent it took them their whole lives to develop. Now, it's all glitz and glamour and they get traded from team to team for publicity as much as anything else.

Thank God, we still have college basketball. Those kids play with everything they've got whether they have professional potential or not. Why? Because they are living out their dreams. Every kid fantasizes of playing for their favorite team. Through that desire they learn hard work and dedication. And, maybe if they are really good, they will get paid for all this hard work. I'm okay with that, but I am not okay with the amount of money that is wasted on professional sports.

These men are not changing the world, they are bouncing a ball, throwing a ball, hitting a ball with a stick, tackling each other, chasing each other, punching someone in the face that they don't even know, kicking a ball, trying to get a ball in a little bitty hole...how does the world benefit from ANYTHING that they are doing? On average, these athletes will make enough money in a few years time to sustain a small country. Why?! It's only entertainment.

No wonder some of the other countries around the world are disgusted with us. Wouldn't you be? They are trying to feed their children and crapping in a hole in the ground and we are paying millions of dollars to a "sex-addicted" golfer for driving a Chrysler. Hello? Is anyone out there? Anyone listening? It just doesn't make sense.

However, if you don't pay the players, then the team owner gets all of the revenue while the actual talent does all of the work. It's a catch-22.

So, I am pleading with you, Mr. James. Please just make your decision so that I don't have to listen to anymore of the sports analysts try to figure out what city you will grace with your presence. I hope that when Jesus comes back to get us, someone notices. However, if free agent negotiations are going on, I am doubtful.

Seeing Stars

So, I was on my morning trip to the bathroom today when I looked up to find our local movie star, Steve Zahn, gracing our office with his presence. It is so surreal to see him in the flesh mere inches from yourself, and you never get used to it, but the thrill is not quite as good as that first time...

About 5 or so years ago, I discovered that he would be joining our little community through my work. The deed for his multi-million dollar home came across my desk and while I was the only one in the office to know his name, I was able to get others on board by referencing his bigger movies like "Daddy Day Care" and "Sahara". I was stoked to know that he would be living here and I might just run into him somewhere. My dreams of becoming Paul Walker's first wife were coming into better focus. They were in a movie together called "Joy Ride" and I just knew that Paul would come a visitin' and we run into each other at Walmart. Still waiting. Still happily married. But, I just like to keep my options open, ya know.

Anyway, I told everyone at work that at some point, Mr. Zahn would be coming in to license his vehicles or record a document. We didn't put a whole lot of stock in that notion because being from Georgetown, we just assume that everyone in Hollywood has a personal assistant at their beckon call waiting to carry out such mundane tasks as registering a vehicle. I actually forgot all about such a possibility...until it happened!!

Amber was working on the front line (where you get your car tagged) and had been briefed months back on the celebrity sighting potential. The office was busy, as it was the end of the month and I was across the hall at my desk, working diligently. (LOL) Anyway, she calls me and says, "Come out here for a second. There is a customer out here that looks so familiar, but I don't know him. Maybe we went to school with him. Just come out and look." So, I do.

I nonchalantly made my way to the supply cabinet and stole a glance out of the corner of my eye. I stood there looking at him for probably 10 seconds trying to place him in my mind. I had nearly given up when it hit me...THAT'S STEVE ZAHN!!! OMG, THAT'S STEVE ZAHN!! My mind was screaming. I was not. I was frantically trying to get Amber's attention, but she was busy with a customer. I made my way around the row of desks, keeping one eye on STEVE ZAHN!!! and the other on Amber. Finally, she looked at me.

My eyes must have been the size of saucers considering the look on her face. "Who is it?" she mouthed. "Very funny," I said, thinking that she was trying to play a joke on me. She finished with her customer and followed me around to the door.

"No, seriously. Did he graduate with you?" At that point, I realized that she was as oblivious as I had been. "Well, we didn't go to school with him, but we DO know him," I said. I wasn't just gonna spell it out for her.

"Who is he?" she asks, her eyes widening. I am staring at her now, waiting for her to do the math. My eyebrows creeping up my forehead, willing her to make the connection. One thing that you may not know about Amber is that when she gets excited or worked up about something, ONLY dogs can hear her. She gets this high pitched squeaking thing going on and her speech speeds up to that of light. So, it is hard to understand her. Finally, she gets it. I think.

"That's him? Steven Zahn?" She squeals and then we both commence to laughing like we never have before. "I thought you were just trying to freak me out," I say. She assures me that she was as confused as I was. We are over in the corner in a fit of laughter stuck in our own private joke that no one will EVER get like we did. You just had to be there.

So, our office is shaped like a U. There are two exits. Most people go out the same door they came in. Superstition or habit, I don't know. We are huddled, out of sight, by the door that no one really uses, having our hysterical laughing fit when a one Mr. Steve Zahn rounds the corner. He is the only customer that used that door to exit all week long. I guarantee it. But there he is, shag hair, khaki shorts, rumpled t-shirt and flip-flops walking right toward us. We both stopped laughing so quickly that it was painful. I don't even remember what I did when he walked by, but I do know that he smiled and said hi in passing.

We stared out the door until it finally clicked quietly shut. Amber and I looked at each other and I have no idea what she said at that point because, uhm I don't walk on four legs, but just when I thought we couldn't laugh any harder, we did.

Neither of us has ever been a fanatic about Steve Zahn, but once a movie star smiles and nods at you in your ridiculously boring place of employment, you become fascinated with his work! It is sad, but true.

So, I have seen Mr. Zahn several times since then. He seems to come into the office a couple of times a year and once in a blue moon, I will see him somewhere else. Shortly after he moved here, we saw him at the Pavilion, our version of the YMCA. His children were taking swim lessons right next to mine. While it is still exciting to see him out and about, the thrill is kind of gone or at least short-lived. He puts his pants on just like you and me. He comes in and pays the taxes on his vehicles, just like I do.

Even though I say that the thrill is gone, the minute I seem him it makes me want to have a Steve Zahn film festival. He is so funny and over the top on screen and then he is very reserved and laid back in person. I will also say that he is not as short as he may seem and he is a good looking guy. Some here say he has a great butt. I digress. He seems like a really nice guy, but who knows b/c I've never actually spoken to him. I admire from afar.

So, stay on the look out for the local celebrity that you won't recognize until he is gone.

Take 5, Mom: Time Traveller's Edition

My evenings usually consist of spending 1 - 2 hours in the kitchen, cooking, cleaning, preparing for the next day, etc. Ho, hum. Then I retreat to the living room with the fam for some quality time in front of Satan's right-hand man, the television. Sometimes we play games or color or wrestle or...just whatever they want, really. But after falling asleep sitting up during my lunch hour yesterday, I decided that I would skip the general festivities of the evening and retreat to my sanctuary, the bedroom, and watch a movie that I have had stored in my DVR for roughly 6 months. After some flack from the husband (shocker), I commensed to laying down and preparing myself for the visual treat that is Eric Bana.

I have read the book that the movie is based on and was anxious to see it come to life. (Side note: The book was damn confusing and frustrating and emotional and wonderful all at the same time. Considering the time it took me to make my way through it's pages, I wish now that I had just watched the movie. It was much easier to follow and less graphic, for lack of a better word.) I had washed my face, brushed and flossed, clearly not intending to get up of the bed until the alarm clock jolted me, and just in case I couldn't make it through the flick because of what I am beginning to suspect is a mild case of narcolepsy.

I made it through the credits and the first 10 minutes of the movie before my first interruption. All things considered, (the abandonment of my family, the children's boredom, the husband's diskike of the situation) this is pretty good. Caleb comes in and hugs me and tells me he loves me, kissing me and loving on me repeatedly.

Me: What are you doin', buddy?

Him: Avery's beads are all over the place and we are picking them up. Whatchu doin?

Me: I'm trying to watch a movie and you are trying to get out of helping pick up the beads. Goodbye.

He left, but not without a frown/smirk on his face while shutting the door just a little harder than necessary. You could almost hear him thinking, "Dang. She's good."

I watch another 30 minutes of the movie and just when I am really into it, here he comes again.

Me: Caleb, I'm trying to watch a movie. Can you please let me be?

Him: I want to watch it with you. (He climbs up on the bed and covers up, snuggling close. AWwwww, dang it. I hate not to love on him, but come on, man! I just want to watch my movie!)

Me: This movie is not for kids.

Him: I'm not a kid. I'm sixteen. (He's 6) I'm just short. (He says this with a straight face and I can't help but laugh at him, which then blows the stern voice I had worked myself up to.)

Me: Caleb, go.

Him: Mommy, I just want to love on you. And I want to sleep downstairs. ( Their father allows them to sleep in our room, a lot. I think it is unnecessary unless on a weekend or a storm is coming through, so I had already told him that he would sleep upstairs.)

Negotiations begin-

Me: Go. Out. Now.

Him: Whoever is stronger will get to pick where we sleep.

Me: I'm stronger, Caleb. Go.

Him: Well, let's just see. Let's have a contest.

Me: Go, now, or the Playstation is mine for a month.

He left, but not for good. Roughly 10 minutes later he reappears.

Me: Okay, I'm mad now. Get out of this room. You are forcing me to be mean.

Him: I just don't understand why we can't sleep down here.

Me: You know what, I don't care. Leave me alone and you can!!!!

Him: Yes! Daddy said you would give in!

And then he was gone. I'm such a putz. And these are the moments when I wish that I could time travel.

So, I finally get the movie finished and just like the book, it made me cry. Not bawl or hyperventilate cry, but enough to make my nose run. But I have found that once the gates are open, I tend to cry about all sorts of things. The movie is just the catalyst. I am shocked that the movie has ended and I have, by the grace of God, been able to lay in silence and ... just cry. It is cathartic sometimes. Just getting it all out, but my miracle was short lived. The whole family piles in the room and there I lay, red-eyed and snotty.

(Might I just mention, before this next exchange, that my husband has already watched this movie without me. So he is completely aware of the emotional rollercoaster that it could take one on.)

Husband: Is the movie over? ( The credits are rolling.)

Me, long pause: Yeah.

Husband: Are you crying? What are you crying about? (He sounds like Tom Hanks in A League of Their Own. "There's no crying in baseball!" Really? 'Cause there is crying in this bedroom. If you only knew how many tears have been shed here, buddy.)

Me: (I can't describe the look on my face, b/c I have never actually seen myself give it, though it is one that I use quite often, but it says this, "You are a f*#&@%g, retard." Retard being pronounced just as Allen says it in The Hangover.) The movie was sad.

Husband: Oh.

Just another night in "Predictably Ever After".

"Believe in Me" - Every young girl should watch this!!

So, we watched this little movie called "Believe in Me". It is about an Oklahoma girls' basketball team set in 1966. The expectations for this little team are pretty low considering the most games ever won by them in a season is 6. The town doesn't go and watch them play, they wear the boys' old uniforms and only get to practice for one hour during the school day before lunch. But things are about to change for these ladies.

Coach Driscoll, who has assisted other boys' teams for several years has come to town and though he thinks he will be coaching the boys, he ends up coaching a giggling group of girls.

Knowing nothing about girls and wishing for boys, he coaches the only way he knows how. In a time when these country girls have no more aspirations than becoming a rancher's wife and raising babies, Coach Driscoll gives them something to believe in...themselves. I highly recommend this movie to any girl, young or old. This is a prime example of how far women have come in sports and in society.

It is an inspirational story that had my child saying, "You know, Mom, I do want to play basketball again this year!!" Thank you, Lord Jesus. I would sorely miss coaching her.

Summer Lovin'

TOP 10 SUMMER LOVES:

(in no particular order)

1. The children get to stay up late with me. During school they have a set schedule and we must never deviate from said schedule or chaos will ensue. In the summer, they can hang out with us and play until at least 10 or 11. I like having them around. Go figure.

2. Tank tops and sun dresses. The less clothes the better, right? It's nice to just slip on a simple dress or tank and shorts and go.

3. Flip-flops. Need I say more?

4. More daylight=more time to get things done. There are no more hours in the day, but it just feels like you have more energy. Honestly, I think humans should be allowed to hibernate in the winter. Six am in June brings sunlight into my window that inspires me to get out of bed. Six am in December just depresses me.

5. More time to get things done=a cleaner house. A cleaner house=a happier Tess.

6. "I'm breaking up with you, Sanyo." Mostly everything that I normally watch is a re-run or off the air and I send the television addict in me to rehab. It's nice to read books and bake. However, I still listen to Everybody Loves Raymond episodes in the kitchen. What do you want from me? I never said I was perfect.

7. No sports. It is a wonderful thing to sleep in on a Saturday. Baseball is over, football hasn't started and basketball is a winter sport. AHHHHhhhhhh.

8. No homework. I DID NOT have a Science textbook in the second grade and neither should my child. Seriously, people. Why does my 7 year old already need to understand the properties of a matter? Isn't it enough that she knows the difference between wood and plastic? And, I guarantee that she can name more oceans than me. The child has never been to the ocean, but she can tell you which ones touch the United States. I'll have to hire a professional tutor to help her by the time she gets to 5th grade. What happened to kids being kids? Why is it that every child has to start preparing for college before they can efficiently wipe their own behind?

9. Lazy days in the backyard. We have a little 10x4 pool that the kids play in and you would think that we had a luxury in-ground pool with a grotto. They love it and play in it at least every other day. They don't need toys, they just use their imagination. It's a awesome thing to witness.

10. Just... being. During the school year and especially fall, my life spins out of control. There is always something going on and I never feel like I get to have those little moments with my family that I cherish so much. You know, like when someone tiny wakes you up with a little kiss on the forehead and terrible morning breath because they are ready to start a new day. You open your eyes to this little face with eye boogers and drool stains and hair that looks as though your first call that day may need to be to an exterminator because the rats have nested. Is there anything more beautiful? Not in my world.

So, enjoy your summer. I'm going to enjoy mine!!!

God is Good: Cloud ART Edition

And the city had no need of the sun, neither of the moon, to shine in it: for the glory of God did lighten it, and the Lamb is the light thereof. -Revelation 21:23

You know, people pay bookoo (?) bucks for a painting or sculpture from an artist. Typically, the more eccentric the artist, the more money they make. Whether they chop off their own ear in a crazy episode or they use uncooked macaroni for texture, to someone, their work is considered art. Whatever. To each his own, I say.

As a mother, I am constantly presented with timeless pieces that should no doubt hang in the Louver(spelling?). To me, though, I see God's "art" everywhere I look. I can see it in my kids. The design he put into making them look like Mike and me, but giving them their own characteristics separating them from us completely. The blooms and colors of the hydrangea bush in my front yard. The subtle shades and textures of the trees behind our house. The ever evolving work of art that is the sky. The reflection and shapes that water gives when you put your hand into a gentle stream. It's everywhere.

Don't go to a gallery and spend thousands of dollars when you can look all around you and see His glorious works for free.

Take 5, Mom

Look at these faces. How could you not love them? I do. I love them more than Romeo loved Juliet, more than Garfield loves lasagna, more than Tammy Faye loves mascara.

More than anything. I have never had better times in my whole life than I have with these kids. They are the most awesome, hilarious, sweet, complicated, loyal friends I have ever had. They are everything to me.

And yet...sometimes, I just need five minutes. Well, actually, 3 minutes and 37 seconds.

See, I had just fed these little cherubs, washed the dishes, cleaned up the mess that they left especially for me in the living room, seperated them from wrestling, refereed a fight, wiped a dirty butt, and started a load of laundry that contained their clothes. So, after working all day and then coming home to my 2nd job-MOM, I just wanted to take the ipod, lay on the bed and listen to Glee's version of "Poker Face". Is that too much to ask?

I just needed 3:37 to myself. Alone. In my room. Alone. No children. Alone.

Apparently, I am a life-giving energy source and they are aliens that must stay close to the mothership or they will die because, of course, they followed me into my room. I tried to take the high road and ignore them completely. Answer no questions. Reply to no comments. But, this, I should have known, only starts the game of "Who Can Make Mommy Talk First?" The questions and comments are blended with laughter as I try to drown them out with the music coming through the tiny ear buds. When this doesn't seem to be working they take a different approach. Attack!!! Now I am being poked and tugged and tickled while laying on the bed trying desperately to decompress and, all the while, my blood is reaching the boiling point.

Finally, I snap and I say, loudly but not hatefully, that I just want to listen to the music for a few minutes. Please let me be!! The children retreat, only to tell their commander in chief, Dad, that I want to lay on the bed and listen to music instead of watch the movie that had been picked out. Chief then yells my name, obviously concerned that I am hendering the schedule he has set forth. I don't answer. He yells louder, and I can hear him, but I pretend that I can't. He finally is motivated enough to come and check on me, not out of concern for my well being, but the fact that I have disregarded a vocal command to respond.

Chief: "What are you doin?" Firm, but not mean. Looking at me as if I am from another planet and I may want to take his brain for research.

Me: "I just wanted to lay here for a second and listen to a song. Just one song."

Chief: "Why?"

Me: "Just because."

Chief: "You know that we are gonna watch that movie, right?"

Me: "Yeah."

Chief: "When are you gonna be done?"

Me: "Forget it." Exhausted and disgusted with him for being a complete moron.

Chief: "Whatever." He walks away annoyed.

I laid there for a few seconds, hoping upon hope that Calgon or Paul Walker or both, might come and take me away. Just for 3:37. Is that too much to ask?

In the end, I put the ipod up and dutifully retreated to the living room where I watched a mediocre movie with my angels/hellions who climbed all over me, forced me to play tic-tac-toe about 73 times, talked, loved on me, needed a snack, wresteled some more, and did flips in front of the tv. The chief was right. Why would I possibly want a few minutes to myself? That's crazy.

I can't be mad at them for long. Who doesn't want to be loved? They love me beyond measure and I love them right back. What is there really to complain about?

Oh yeah, that's right, 3:37.

Life's a Bowl of Cherries...So PICK one already!!

So life is full of choices, right? Let's make a few.

Being that we are in the eye of the storm that is Twilight, Edward or Jacob?

Okay, now I have been a Edward fan from page 1. Not one time did I believe that Bella should be with Jacob, I don't care how warm he is.

Robert Pattinson or Taylor Lautner?

In real life, I like me some T.L. Robert Pattinson only works for me as Edward not as Robert. Go figure?






Clark Kent or Superman?

Personally, I would take Mr. Kent. There is just something about a studly nerd and also I really don't want to have to wash and then air-dry Superman's tights all the time. I can throw a button-up in the dryer.

Pitt or Clooney?

Tristen and Achiles are my two fave characters he has ever played. Must be something about the long hair.

But Clooney seems extremely funny. I think this one is a draw!

Puck or Finn?

I gotta go with Finn on this. He is a little slow at times, but he is so sweet!!

Alright, let's hear it. Which cherries would you choose if given the bowl in the first place? Weigh in. I want to hear your opinions people!!

Book 'Em, Danno

I am about to make my first attempt at a book review. I will exhaust myself trying to find my point. I promise. I've just always thought that it would be fun to have my opinion of a book put into People magazine. (Sigh...) A girl can dream.

Alright, so I read a book called "My Name is Memory" ------> and I very much enjoyed it. The idea is that God recycles us, if you will. We keep being reincarnated time after time and all but a hand full of us don't remember a thing. But there are a few rare souls who can remember back as far as their very first life and that is the torment that has befallen 'Daniel'. He has lived hundreds of lives over thousands of years and since his first life, he has been in love with the same girl. This would seem like a wonderful thing, but the problem is that she can't remember her lives like he does, so every time he finds her, he has to try to convince her of what they shared. Obviously, she often thinks he is a nut job and wants him to stay away, but sometimes her heart is open and she begins to accept the dream that he speaks of. The tragic part is that they are never born in the same place at the same time. In some lives, he is a child and she is 80 or he is a middle aged fat man with a wife and two mistresses and she is a homeless runaway. Daniel loves her all the same, but fate does not make it easy for the two of them to find the perfect fit. If you crossed the drama and intensity of the "Time Traveler's Wife" and the vulnerability and innocence of "50 First Dates" (the movie), you've just about got the feel of this book. 'Daniel' takes you on a journey all over the world through his memories and you are enamored with the love that he has only for 'Sophia'. That isn't her name now, but it was the first time they fell in love and that is how he will always know her as he spans the globe lifetime after lifetime looking for a moment in time when they can be together.

I highly recommend this book. ***** <------ 5 Asterisks!!!

Coupons, Sales, Rainbows and Unicorns...These are a few of my Favorite Things!!

So, I have this compulsion to shop, which sounds dangerous, right? Well, it can be and has been, but I only buy things that my family needs. Well, I do now anyway. I have never been one of those shopaholics that buys new clothes all the time or can't wear the same pair of shoes with more than one outfit. I mean I like clothes as much as the next person, but if I overspend it is typically on something for my kids and honestly, there has to be an occassion before they get something. I promised myself before I had children that I would not be one of those parents that made a jaunt through the toy section of every store and allow my children to buy something just for behaving appropriately or some other nonsense. (Seriously. Did you get something every time you went to the store and refrained from throwing yourself on the floor and acting like a complete ass? I didn't. I did however get to keep the ability to sit without a throbbing pain on my backside from a well deserved beating.) My kids are pretty well supplied with toys because we go overboard at Christmas and our house is small, so it seems like they have a lot.

On a side note: The husband goes out and buys $40 worth of Zuu Zuu pets for the kids because they have seen the commercial and that is all they have talked about for an entire week. I pleaded with him not to because I know that they won't play with them and this is just a frenzy brought on by merciless propaganda on the Cartoon Network. But he argued that they do not ask for much and I have to say that it is true. They very rarely get excited about any particular toy and get in that whiney begging mode that you so often hear 3 aisles over at Walmart. To their credit, they never once begged for the Zuu Zuus. So, he buys them and the children are enamored with them for, oh, about 45 minutes and have not, I repeat NOT, touched them since. Lesson learned, Daddy...always listen to Mommy.

Anyway, I have this need to get into the grocery store or drug store and spend as little money as possible while filling my cart with all of the items my family will need to get through...a nuclear war. I currently have 8 bottles of Kraft salad dressing, 6 boxes of cereal 14 boxes of jell-o, 6 bottles of Sweet Baby Ray's BBQ sauce, 6 bottles of Dawn detergent and...a lot more. Now, these aren't exactly "staples" if you will, but I am ready for...well, I don't know, but I'm ready for something!!

So, I thought that I would share with you my latest and greatest deal of the week. Perhaps, I will post my most awesome of deals each week so that you too can be amazed by me. LOL

Kroger

All Oxi-Clean detergent - On Sale for $2.99

coupon - $2.00

Total of $.99 for 32 loads of laundry

(I buy multiple newspapers, so I ended up with 3 bottles)

Snuggle fabric softener - On Sale for $2.99

coupon -$1.50

Total of $1.49 each (I bought 2)

Betty Crocker Cake Mixes - On Sale for 10/$10

Betty Crocker Icing $1.49 each

coupon - $.75 for the combo

Total $1.74 (I bought 3 of each)

Total spent on said deals this morning $11.84 with tax. Not too shabby, huh? I bet some of you spent $11.84 on a jumbo bottle of Tide or a couple of cases of soda pop, right?

CVS

Gillette Men's Body Wash $4.00 get $4.00 Extra Bucks back (a phenomenon that I will gladly share with you if you want me to)

So basically, $4.00 for one bottle and then a BOGO coupon

Total = I spent $4.48 on the first bottle, got the second for free and then they gave me $8.00 Extra Bucks (CVS cash, essentially)

Ahhhhh. That's what they call a "money maker" in the couponing world. I used my $8 EB to get 3 boxes of name brand cereal, 2 pakages of, well, feminine products and 4 packs of gum!!!

La, la, la, la, la.......... All is well in my shopping world at moments like this!!

Lesson Learned

So, I am taking a cue from my fab friend, Jessi (Notes From a Scattered Mind), and starting a weekly post. I feel like life is a journey and if you aren't learning something then you aren't paying attention.

I realized last week that my world operates on a "black and white" color wheel and that "gray" is my least favorite color. Gray scares me because it seems to have no boundaries. It comes in and colors everything that you can't define or comprehend.

Last Friday, I got the phone call that rocked my world. My mother called to say that my 81 year old grandfather, whom ,for reasons I won't go into, I was not very close to, shot and killed himself. He had been in pain for some time and decided that he was done.

I knew my grandfather my entire life, but didn't know him at all. That doesn't make sense, but it is what it is. We had nothing in common and he lived a life that I couldn't understand. Still, I know that he cared about me and in my own way, I cared very deeply for him.

Because of our luke-warm relationship, I imagined that when he passed I would be sad, but I could handle it. Life is a cycle and his would come to an end. He had lived a long life and every minute of it was spent on his terms, no one else's. So sad, yes, but tragic, no.

When I arrived at his house that day, I was overwhelmed by the reality of what had happened.

Months ago, he had come to me and told me that he was willing to help me with my first venture into politics. He would support me and tell all of his friends. He was very well-known and would have had a lot of influence. But his health was failing him and he was unable to do much to help. But, I was just so touched by the offer that it didn't matter that he couldn't follow through.

On a side note, the whole election thing was an enormous emotional and spiritual struggle for me where I doubted my intentions and God's plan for me. At one point, I convinced myself that perhaps the reason God wanted me to run was that it gave my grandfather and myself a common goal. Something we never had before. But I always believe that it is more than that. My purpose of teaming with him had to be greater than just some stupid election. I was there to be a witness for God. To plant that seed and pray that it grew. My husband went and spoke to him once while he was in the hospital and it didn't go well. He wouldn't hear of anything dealing with his salvation. "Just cremate me and forget it," he had told my mom. So, after such a reaction we stopped trying, but didn't stop praying.

I only saw him two more times after that. Allowing my daily life to get in the way of what was actually important- his eternal life. I know that I couldn't have made him see anything that he didn't want to, but what if I had tried just once more?

That day, at his house, I pulled up to find the police, coroner, my great-aunts and my mom. I walked toward the house believing that I was strong enough to handle all of what was happening, but the closer I got the harder it was to breathe. I lost control and cried for the better part of an hour.

Even now, I wonder what I grieved. So much to be sorry for. Sorry that I didn't visit him more. Sorry that I didn't try a little harder to get close. Sorry that he wasn't the man I had needed him to be all of my life. Sorry that I wasn't the granddaughter he always wanted. Sorry that our family has a tear in the fabric that has grown larger every day since my grandmother died. Sorry...that I couldn't see the forest for the trees. I love God very much and I work hard to put him first in everything that I do. Sometimes I can't see the soul for the sin. The sin is right there in my face threatening to touch my life somehow so I turn away and I don't know how to deal with the person that just needs me to show them love and understanding. It is something that I struggle with every day. How is it that this man was adored by so many, except me?

If he had died of natural causes, I may have been able to get it together and move on more easily, but the fact that he decided when it was all over is hard for me to understand. The realization that he may be burning in hell is more than I can bear at times. What bothers me the most is the wondering of what his last moments were like. Did he cry out to God? Did he think about past regrets or what he wished we knew? Or didn't he regret anything he had every said or done to those that he "loved"?

Sadly, I'll never know. And for the first time in my life, I have found something that I really don't know how to pray for. Just for peace, I guess. God knows my heart even if I can't express it. I am getting better about accepting the situation with each day, but it will probably always be in the back of my mind. Wondering about what could or should have been.

P.S. When we were going through his belongings that day, we found a Certificate of Baptism. He promised to live his life for the Lord when he was 16 years old. Though I never witnessed any kind of relationship he may have had with God, it gives me hope that maybe he found it for a few minutes just before he was gone.

Rated "G"lee for Adults

Okay, so I absolutely love Glee. It is the funniest show I have seen on tv since Friends. Seriously, it combines humor, music and teen angst in a way that no other show has or will. From the very first episode, I was hooked. GENIUS!! The kids on that show are top notch comedic performers. They have timing talent to say the least. They can all sing, or so we are led to believe. None of them are what I would call indescribably beautiful, but they are pretty enough to keep you watching yet generic enough to make you feel as though you can relate. Teen shows in the past have targeted kids with their over the top lifestyles (O.C.), gorgeous actors (90210), or the "little fish in a big pond" premis (Time of My Life- short lived but cute Jennifer Love Hewitt spin-off from the contrived drama Party of Five). Might I just take a moment to say, that I watched all of these pretty faithfully except for The O.C. It came on after I developed a mind of my own and refused to waste my time on anorexic, morally handicapped children with lacking parental authority. But Glee transcends all of that stereotypical teenage crap and embraces it all at the same time!!

Also, I have to get my Sue Sylvester fix every Tuesday night at 9pm. The combination of the writing and her delivery is UNBELIEVABLE. Might I just go ahead and start the campaign for a Jayne Lynch Emmy? She deserves it people.

Alright, so, I love my Glee, right? But the thing is, that it started out a somewhat family show. My kids love the music. We have both soundtracks and they love them. We sing them all the time, but I am afraid that the subject matter has gotten beyond my ability to filter and explain.

Problem Characters for me
Kurt - How do you make a 6 & 7 year old understand why Kurt acts the way he does without explaining that he likes boys? I don't know. Tell me. I need answers. I respect all the struggles that Kurt goes through with his dad, but come on EVERY episode? Really?!?! He is so flamboyant that he should just get a job on that crappy teen drama "Degrassi"!

Puck - Self-absorbed, opportunist with enough testosterone to believe that he can repopulate the earth should we need him to, a walking STD

Santana - the girl version of Puck but catty and there are no words to describe how shallow she is, absolutely no redeeming qualities

Britney - stupid and promiscuous, that's about it, there is no one upstairs

Quinn - pregnant, for one, a liar for two, and she is seemingly out for revenge on Rachel, however, she does have moments of kindness and maturity that are heart warming and sweet, albeit few and far between

Mr. Schuster- My fave character from the beginning, and still is most of the time, but WHY did he have to go and mess around behind Emma's back? Why, why...WHY!?!?! He slipped a few notches on my moral measuring stick. Emma has this "condition" that she is trying to work through to be with him and he goes and plays her like that...WWWHHHYYYY!!!!

Jacob- obsessed with Rachel and has said more than once that he "just wants to get in her panties"

(I complain, but I love all these characters. They are the jigsaw pieces that make up the extraordinary puzzle we know as the Glee Club. New Directions ROCKS!!!!!)

None of the other characters have really presented a problem for me, but obviously there is too much adult content for the kids to watch anymore. We tivo it and watch it before we let the kids watch it so that we know where to fast forward, but there is less and less of the show that they can actually watch. We didn't let them watch a single second of the MADONNA episode.

So, remember me when you're watching Glee and something completely ianppropriate happens such as, gay talk, backstabbing, sexting, or pretty much everything else and you are laying on the floor in stitches. I am squirming in my seat b/c my 7 year old is sitting beside me with her blanket and baby doll!!! The children are going to be officially cut off!!

WTF...Why the Fussin?..er, um,..Cussin?

So, occasionally, I am compelled to use a lesser form of communication known as cussing.

I am not proud of it, but I admit that it does happen. I am an emotional cusser. Anger is the catalyst for most of the cussin' that escapes my lips. However, sometimes I find it hard to tell a joke or say something funny without some sort of expletive.

I am ashamed.

Don't get me wrong, I never say the really bad curse words. I just use the little 5 cent ones, ya know? Yet, I have said "WTF" more times than I can count, which really is the same as cussin', b/c everyone knows exactly what you mean. Why not just say it? Or have you ever said, "Son of a hmmm" or "What the hmmm" (imagine a grunt or high pitched squeak in place of the hmmm)? Does that count?

Oy vey.

I've got to watch it. I have two little kids that have highly selective hearing. My daughter walks around saying "Son of a Nutcracker", which is odd in and of itself, but we all know the intention of the expression. My kids are super excited when there is a cuss word in a song b/c all bets are off and they know that I can't punish them for repeating something that I am voluntarily allowing them to hear. We used to listen to a song quite frequently that said the word "damn" and my kids would say nearly every time we got in the car, "Can we listen to that cuss song?"

Looking back over my blog, I believe I have used the word "ass" in every post. This realization makes me sad. I once heard Will Smith say that the reason he doesn't use profanities in his music is b/c his grandmother once told him that "only ignorant people can't find better words to express themselves" or something like that. Anyway, it stuck with me, but obviously there are times that I fall into the ignorant category.

It is weird b/c I don't let the words slip. There is a nanosecond hesitation in which I think, "Is it really necessary to cuss at this juncture?", but I say it anyway. I'm not one of those people who just blurt it out unaware. I know what I'm doing and somehow do it anyway. Must be the rebel in me. No drinkin', druggin', or just plain ol' disorderly conduct, but the occasional cuss word keeps my persona "edgy". I have a rep to maintain people. But I do need to watch myself.

So, I pledge to all...4 of you and to myself that I will show some restraint when it comes to my potty mouth!!

O Brother, Where Art Thou Stories?

Okay, so I have this fantastic, um, er...well, great brother. LOL No seriously, he's awesome!! He is smart, athletic, talented, FUNNY like you wouldn't believe and just fun to be with. I love him dearly and he tells the best stories, but you have to listen, because he's only going to say it once.

I beg and beg him to tell me stories, which seems weird, because it's not like these stories hold some secret to our family's past or life changing facts that I need to be reminded of, they are just these funny things that would happen only to him. (I am thinking of one right this minute and can barely type from giggling!!)

If you know him, ask him (very politely) to tell you a story, because he is a great storyteller. He can make a very simple story into a roller coaster ride of comedy without much effort. It is a gift. He doesn't realize that he possesses such talent, but I can see it. Really, he should write a memoir. It would be a best seller. If Bob Newhart can do it, why can't my brother (who shall remain nameless to protect his identity)?

Those of you who know him..which would be anyone who reads this blog b/c I only have 4 followers and three of them are actually his family and the other one goes to church with us...should ask him to tell the story about the "Fat Lady on His Car" or my personal fave, "The First Time He Went Skiing". It will have you rolling in the floor. Guaranteed.

Alas, he shares none of these stories with me. I ask him from time to time to tell me a story that I've heard before and he dismisses me as though I were a rodent asking for a crumb. If you are ever lucky enough to hear an original tale from him...cherish it always, as it will never fall upon your ears again.

Our Future...Not so "bright"

Every day on my way to drop my kids off at school, I pass by the neighborhood bus stop. There are usually 8 to 10 kids standing around. Some of them are talking to each other, but most of them just stand there with this vacant, "No One's Home" look on their faces. Do they not know what is about to happen? Perhaps... a bus will come and pick them up for SCHOOL?

Why the indifference?

Maybe it is because they have a million other things going on in that little brain of their's. If they aren't staring off into space breathing through their mouths, they are texting or talking on their cellphones. Why does a 13 year old need a cellphone? Why incur the expense of another phone line and texting? I don't get it. ( I reserve the right to harp on these parents now and make the exact same mistake in about 5 years with my own tween. But for now I will judge them mercilessly.)

Others are listening to their I-Pod with a gazillion songs they've no doubt stolen from the artist on-line with lyrics that would make my grandmother spin like a top in her grave.

One couple I have seen on numerous occassions awkwardly swapping spit between their pimply faces. Ah, young love. (Maybe I'm just jealous!)

Then there is the kid with the perfectly coiffed hair and brand new clothes that is so concerned with his outer appearance that he can't keep eye contact with the kid whose pants are barely hanging onto his bean pole body. The pretty boy is too concerned with his 17th pair of new shoes to hold a conversation and the kid whose clothes are barely hanging on doesn't want to talk anyway, because he can't hear over the complex musings of Lil' Wayne blaring through earphones as big as his head. He has one hand on his I-Pod and the other holding his pants up.

All of these things that I observe are just phases or trial periods for each kid. They have no idea who they are and they are taking on different roles and trying them out. I have seen those kids change looks like I change underwear. Nonetheless, they all have one thing in common.

Stupidity.

I'm not being harsh. It is apparently a rule among teenage children. You must be stupid to fit in.

For example, it would be absolutely assanine to wear a coat when it is cold. It may not go with your new tennis shoes or it might hender you from pressing your body inappropriately to your girlfriend in front of your peers or you might not be able to reach your pants to keep them from falling down and Lord knows that you could never wear pants that fit you properly. Are you kidding? That's crazy. Social suicide.

If you got up extra early and wasted time, sanity and product on your hair, what sense would it make to carry an umbrella? Absolutely none. That would be stupid. To remain dry on a rainy day and get to school in the same state that you left the house in would be ridiculous. Why would you want to tie yourself down with an umbrella when you could just shiver and drip-dry for the first two hours of school causing you to smell like a wet dog? Stupid.

Do you understand that this is the future of our nation? The kid with his pants hanging off his ass who is slowly trying to take away God's gift of hearing may have a 4.0 GPA, but if he is not smart enough to stay dry when it rains and warm when it's cold, I've got no faith in him.

They should teach a course on common sense. We could all use it. Stupidity starts at a very early age.

The Ball's In Your Court, Doc

I have a 6 year old son who may very well be one of the funniest people I know. He is constantly surprising me with the things he says. Such a little grown up at times and then very baby-ish at others, but either way hilarious.

So, I took my comedian to his 6-year checkup at the pediatrician's office. He was very nervous in the days leading up to this appointment because he was convinced that they would give him some sort of shot. For days I exhausted myself trying to assure him that I had no knowledge of an upcoming shot, but no amount of coddling satisfied him.

He was a bundle of nerves after sitting in the waiting area for about 10 minutes we were them sent to "solitary" to wait on the doctor.

**SIDE NOTE** The whole doctor's appointment thing just chaps my ass. Why do they even make you tell them when you would like to be seen, because they aren't going to see you until you've done at least 45 minutes in doctor's office hell. Just let me do my time in the general waiting room where there is a tv, albeit forever tuned into CNN Health, ...ZZZzzz..., but a tv nonetheless and other prisoners that I can watch and compare my children to, thus making me feel either superior or inferior to their parents. Don't send me to the closet you call an exam room with one spanish magazine and a worn out copy of a child's bible where I will be trapped with my child for no less than 40 minutes playing "I Spy" on the tiny wallpaper border. Seriously, reform healthcare already. And start with the double scheduling/waiting room/torture chamber situation!!!

Anyway, the doctor comes in to examine my son. My big boy usually does very well for the doctor's and doesn't resist them or give them a hard time, but this time he was nervous, so he was just a little gun-shy and kept asking, "Now what are you going to do to me?" each time the doctor pulled out a different instrument. That question was immediately followed in a sort of staccato pattern with "Am I getting a shot today?"

The doctor was very nice and did his best to answer the questions calmly without letting the cat out of the bag. Yep, time to get that booster shot, buddy.

So, all is well with my boy. The picture of health. Right height, right weight, and based on his verbal exchange with the doctor, appropriately inquisitive. Last step, check the family jewels.

The doctor says to my son, "Alright, we're almost done. We just need to check you down there." He is pointing to the area on my son's body that we like to refer to as his "business". My son says, hesitantly, "Okay, but hurry up." He immediately covers his face as the doctor begins to pants him.

As a mother of only one boy, I don't know how developed he should be at this point, but my guess is that he's right on the money. However, I am not dillusional enough to think that the doctor is going to be able to hold them in the palm of his hand, so I am interested to see how this will work.

Instead of his palm, he used his fingertips to feel for whatever it is he looking for. As he is trying to balance the...parts, his finger slips, and one gets loose causing the doc to say, "Oops".

(Drum roll here)

My son, hands still covering his eyes because he can't bear to look at what is happening to his business, says, "That one gets away from me, too!!!"

Classic comedy from my 6 year old. Look out Seinfeld.

Seriously, people, does it get any better?

ahhh...friends

Well, as you can see by looking at my page I have three "followers". Funny, because I actually know all three of them, Adrien (the one who made me do this), Jessi (Adrien's cousin) and Cathy (Adrien's aunt) and they don't actually "follow" me anywhere. We may meet in the same places or sit together at church or share a meal or play ROCK BAND, but never once have I looked over my shoulder and found any of the three "following" me. I assure you that in 6 months if you look at this blog again, they will still be the only three who find me funny enough to "follow". Love their hearts, they are so easily entertained.

Now the word "followers" sounds kind of cult-like, don't you think? Perhaps blogspot.com should change the word to "fan" or "liker". Facebook just changed the "Become a Fan" button to "Like". Is it wrong to be a fan of something? I say absolutely not.

I am a fan of many things: GLEE (which may be the topic of a soon-to-come posting), the extra crumbs that you get at Long John Silver's, Kathy Griffin-although I am completely not proud of this because she stands for everything that I have been taught all of my life to repent from, however, I find that watching her puts a smile on my face like no other show can, imitation crab meat, Stephenie Meyer, the Script song "Breakeven", 10th Ave North and of course slap bracelets. These are just a few things that have, through the years, earned my fanship.

Perhaps you enjoy some of these things, too. That doesn't mean that you "follow" them, right? How do you follow leftover deep fried fish batter? You don't. It follows you. It hangs right on to your ass and it won't let go for any amount of sit-ups in the world. So in actuality, it is a follower of mine as well.

Anyway, all I am saying is that I only FOLLOW Jesus Christ. I reserve the right to be a "fan" of many things, but follower I am not. ;~)

All of that being said, I am ever so grateful for my "followers". They laugh when I speak, whether out of pity or genuine humor I don't know, but it sure tugs at the old heart strings. God bless you 3 "followers" of mine.

Alright, so... this is it. My first venture into blogging. Feels good. I chose the Dark Dots layout. Not necessarily what I wanted, but it was slim pickins. So, here I am in cyberspace, just wandering aimlessly without a coherent thought to give you. I apologize, but I'm not quite sure what to say just yet. I mean I have plenty to say, I'm just not sure what to say. Do you want to know the latest thing my kids said or the fact that the button on my fave pair of khakis has left a permanent mark on my jelly roll? I could tell you about my campaign for County Clerk and the shenanigans and stress that invade my mind at the most unexpected and inopportune times. Who knows what will come out of these fingers, but I promise to try my best to entertain. So, whatever comes of this blog, I'll just let you know now that my sister-in-law finds me funny. Not many do, but for whatever reason she does, so I am humoring her with this blog. Hopefully, I don't disappoint. Just so you know, I am only here because...Adrien Made Me Do It.