this is serious

I am sitting at my desk reading emails when I hear this lively number from the t.v. in the other room that Hannah is watching:

It's a puppy
he has to go pee-pee
But he caaaaan't
Becuase he's stuck in the house.
This is serious...
Sooner or later, everyone has to go pee-pee.

This life lesson brought to us courtesy of The Wonder Pets.

It is serious. And sooner or later, everyone does have to go pee-pee. So there you have it.

I was my own secret admirer

Last night, Josh and I got to talking. This wasn't just end-of-day analyzing, it was actual conversation. It was great (at least for me). Somehow, the topic came around to junior high school, and I got to reminiscing (Josh can't remember last week, let alone his childhood). I started telling the man I currently sleep with just how nerdy I used to be. I bared my BIG NERD SOUL for the guy I want to find me sexy. That must be love, no?

Some of my less-than-cool moments included:

• Daily lugging a huge alligator-skin case (filled with a huge tenor saxophone) on the bus, whacking everyone in the head as I passed. When presented with the choice of taking band or art, I convinced myself that I was not an artist and should therefore take band. A mistake of COLOSSAL proportion. That saxophone was my constant companion for four years. Why the saxophone? I honestly don't remember. Don't think I could play a note today to save my life.
• Racing through the halls after getting off the bus in the morning to get a library pass. My even nerdier older brother had convinced me that this is where the cool kids hung out during lunch. It wasn't. Took me a few rounds of dungeons and dragons to figure that one out.
• The baby blue eyeshadow pasted from eyelid to eyebrow...seriously don't know what to say there.
• The permed mullet. If I had any digital pictures of this, I would post them so you could appreciate just how beautiful my hair is now. I topped off those lovely feathered sides with about a gallon of aqua-net. That hairdo wouldn't have moved in a tornado. Oh, and I got really cool when I figured out how to mousse the back so it stayed crunchy, while the top was smooth and feathered. Yikes.
• Big, red, Sally-Jessie-Raphael glasses.
• Turquoise-blue flood pants and pink high top sneakers.
• Future Problem Solvers of America - does anyone know what that club is? I never really figured out what I was supposed to accomplish, but I was a proud member.

And my most shameful moment (can't believe I'm baring this sad part of my nerdy soul):

• Sending myself a valentine. It was sixth grade and for a dollar you could send a "secret valentine" to anyone in the school. I was wise enough then to recognize that I was so pathetic that nobody would be sending me one, so I paid my dollar and sent myself a balloon. It CANNOT get any more tragic than that.

The good news is, my story has a happy ending. I figured out (somewhere between high school and college) how to be a little more cool. I married a GREAT, smart, good looking, ambitious man who loves me, I have three beautiful children, and a fabulous rack. Oh, and maybe, just maybe, I won't have to buy myself a valentine this year. Here's hoping...

PETA's future is secure (in case you were worried)

"Mom, you can't use paper plates," Chase says early this morning.

"Why not?"

"Because if you use up all the resources of the world, there won't be anything left. WE HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF THE ENVIRONMENT!"

First, it's not even eight o'clock in the morning yet. Conservation and peace talks should never begin before eight. Secondly, I respect your position and have a truly GREAT [read mildly concerned] interest in preserving the environment. But can't we work on saving the world once I've had some breakfast? Can't I at the very least have had a diet coke before you start accusing me of destroying our planet? No, I actually can't. Because I know that once I have a diet coke, greedily consume its lifesaving contents, and throw the can in the trash - you will angrily open the trash and pull it out. I will then get a long lecture on recycling. Which will, no doubt, lead to your passionate plea for the preservation of animal habitats all over the world that are being destroyed. You've come to tears before when talking about this issue. REAL tears. And if by some small chance, I can get that can in the trash when you're not looking, you will dig through garbage to find it. I have reduced you to recycling BEHIND MY BACK. You are forced to sneak around when we're not looking and right our wrongs. I gotta love and respect you for that, kid.

"But Chase, these paper plates come from trees that have already fallen to the ground," I vainly attempt to say.

All right, stop looking at me like that. "How about this, I promise to recycle my diet coke cans if you will let me occasionally use paper plates. Deal?"

"Deal," he says.

And considering the large quantities of diet coke consumed daily in this household (not to mention the three or four I'll guzzle to get me through this morning), we ought to have preserved a few acres of rain forest.

Now go eat your pancakes.

fear factor

I was inspired by my fabulous MIL to write about five things that scare me:

1. Serial killers (and in particular, cannibalistic serial killers). I. AM. NOT. KIDDING. My fear of this began in college when I watched for the first time (and last) The Silence of the Lambs. That Hannibal Lechter scared the bejeebers out of me. I kid you not, I didn't sleep for two full nights after I saw that movie. Since then, I have been unable to watch movies or shows that involve any sort of serial killing. And yes, I know they're now making a "prequel." One movie I will not see, I can promise you that.

2. Heights. I hate being up high. My fear of heights includes ski lifts, bridges, roller coasters, and sky trams. I do not feel safe unless my feet are firmly planted on the ground. I mean, seriously, you honestly expect me to trust my life to a cable or rickety old roller coaster? No way, not this scardy cat.

3. Bobble head dolls. I've blogged about this one before, but I seriously am freaked out by them. That large free-floating head bobbing around, independent of the body. It's not right, I tell you.

4. Death. I truly am afraid of dying. I'm afraid of never being able to do all these things floating around in my head. I'm afraid of what something like that would do to my kids.

5. Snakes. I hate them - hate hate hate them. The slithery, scaly body twisting and writhing around...just gives me the willies. I think I've touched snakes like twice in my whole life, and it was enough. Nasty creatures. Bleach.

So tag, you're it...what're you afraid of?

lunch break

Here is what Hannah and I did today on our "lunch break," as she likes to call it:

And here is why:

I'm still not used to what they call "winter" around here. So used to wind chill, snow boots, gloves, and blizzards. If I had known there was a place this fantastic in February, I would have put us all in a truck and moved there long ago. However long this paradise lasts, I will NEVER, EVER take it for granted.

blink

Nine years ago today a very pregnant, very worn out wife went into the hospital with her husband, and came out with her family. Nine years ago today, our lives were forever changed. It was a cold, frigid Minnesota day that our little McKay was born. He weighed seven pounds, nine ounces, and was a gangly 21-inches long. He had little bits of peach fuzz for hair, that would fall out and not return fully for three-and-a-half years. He had long feet and tiny bird legs. His face was perfect with big blue eyes, and a darling pair of dimples. He never cried. We used to ask people if there was something wrong with our baby because he never cried.

This little thing (or alien, as Josh was fond of saying) rocked our world. We became THOSE kinds of people that talk of nothing but naps, diapers, breast milk, and bowel movements. We were newly unafraid of touching body fluids that were previously unimaginable. We saw the man in our house change diapers (and become REALLY GOOD at it, too). We learned to stop and take notice of simple things like a smile or a first step. We learned what it meant to really love and give of ourselves. We learned to be parents.

This little baby grew to a happy toddler, and is now a very happy boy. He still never cries, and always strives to please. He is athletic, smart, clever, and can tell a mean knock-knock joke. He was the beginning of what would become the family we know today. We can't imagine our life without him - and the others that would soon follow. How is it possible that he's now nine? How is it that I have stood still while time has gone on around me? Hug your babies tonight, memorize every tiny feature, and take a picture with your heart. Before you know it, they will be big boys that like to eavesdrop and get embarrassed of you in public. Don't blink - or you'll miss it. I've decided to tape my eyelids open, less I blink and this big boy is 19. Happy birthday, Mack!

P.S. I've almost forgiven him for being born a full week late. I said almost, as there are some things you never get over.