One of these things is not like the other

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Here's a fun game. All of these phrases, except for one, were actual google searches that led people to my blog. See if you can guess which one does not belong:

  1. Annoying cough in kids.
  2. What does my baby look like right now?
  3. Pouting chauffeur recipes.
  4. Birdlike arms.
  5. Teepee p0rn.
  6. Things to say to your son.
  7. Finding my sanity.
  8. The best thing about my brother.
  9. How my hair look like.
  10. Strep throat infection on face.
  11. I need to quit or I will lose my mind.
  12. Camel Toe sneakers.
  13. Things men hide.
  14. Why does my infant look at my hair?
  15. Bad belly aches.
  16. Hot sneakers in November 2007.
  17. Trying to forget my past.
  18. I need your help.
  19. Pictures for a web site download.
  20. Birthday massages for best friends.
  21. Favorite things to give husband.
  22. Martha Stewart n*ked.
  23. What are your guilty pleasures clothes?
  24. My luck my life.
  25. Hannah sandwich.

The answer will be posted on Friday. Give it your best shot.

Mother of the Year

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Today after running on the treadmill (or what I like to call "Attempting to burn what I will eat at the Great Cookie Swap of 2007"), I went upstairs to take a shower. I took my time getting beautiful (because it DOES take a long time for me) and made sure I looked my best (I didn't).

It was then time to turn my attentions to the Princess and take her breakfast syrup-soaked tangles and turn them into something lovely. I called and called, but she didn't come. Not even when I used my loud yelling voice or my angry impatient voice.

Assuming she was paralyzed by the hypnotic powers of Noggin (because it's like preschool on TV!), I took a trip downstairs to retrieve her. It was not until I had my hand on the basement door that I heard her screams.

Rushing down, I find her head pinned awkwardly between a collapsed metal folding chair -- her body twisted and tangled -- and unable to get out. She was hysterical and sobbing (understandably). I pulled her free and felt pangs of guilt as I saw the large bruise on the left side of her face. I have no idea how long she had been like this, but I suspect quite a while.

What added salt to this already painful wound (for me, not her) was when she said, "I thought you were in the other room and just wouldn't come get me."

Yes. My child was painfully pinned between two pieces of metal and she thought I would not help her.

I must be the best mother. Ev-er.

Stupid Mondays.

You give me THIS for Edward? Really?

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While I realize that Twilight might not be everyone's cup of tea, I enjoyed it immensely. Ever since I got sucked into the series this summer, I have been dreaming of the perfection that is Edward being played out on the big screen. Bridget first alerted me to this breaking news, and I had to have a debate of my own. Robert Pattinson has been cast as Edward (you may know him as Cedric Diggory from Harry Potter).

What do we think?
I have to say that as of right now, I'm not feeling it. I have no doubt that a good make-up artist, several thousand hours in the gym, and a brow wax would help, but I did picture Edward a bit more dashing than this Mr. Patterson. I will reserve the final judgement to when I see him in the movie, but I am cautiously disappointed myself.

For Bella, they have cast Kristen Stewart (who is the Meg Ryan lookalike in In the Land of Women). Here's hoping she's less annoying onscreen than Bella was in the book. I so wanted to drop-kick that girl until she got some sense knocked into her stupid head.
So what do you think?

And yes, I know these are teen books.

And no, I don't care.

I liked 'em.

Discuss.

My disease

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This is for Jessica. A little peek into the world of my OCD. Now I know it's not customary to let your crazy out for the world to see, but I'm going to do it anyway. May you still like me when I'm done (shut up, Daniel. People really do like me. You do, right? RIGHT?)

Here is a picture of the cupboard full of the kids' craft supplies. Yes, even when it's for them, it must be neat and labeled in tidy, plastic bins. I really ought to have at least 50 percent ownership in the Container Store by now. It's quite sad, really, that they all know me by name at that place.



  1. I can only do laundry on Tuesdays and Fridays. If I miss a day for some reason, it throws everything off in my mind. It won't get done and I feel like I'm doing laundry every day (something I try to avoid), so I stick religiously to my schedule.
  2. When I load silverware into the dishwasher, there has to be an equal amount of silverware in each little spot. I will pull a clean fork or spoon out of the drawer and re-wash it just to keep the numbers even.
  3. I like things in groups of three. I don't know why. I just do.
  4. I have to make my bed everyday. Even if I don't get to it until right before I climb in at night, I will still make it. Most days, it is made first thing.
  5. I also have a very specific number of pillows that I need under my head and in between my knees in order to sleep well. Hotels never meet the quota, no matter how many pillows the nice ladies in housekeeping bring you.
  6. It literally hurts my head if there is a crooked picture on the wall. It's all I can do to NOT fix it when I am in someone else's home.
  7. I like to set my bedroom clock five minutes fast knowing that I will sleep five minutes longer as a result. The Husband can't stand it because he forgets and always thinks he's late. I look at it as a little present I give him every day - that extra five minutes that he doesn't know about. He doesn't see it that way though. It annoys him (strange, normal man).
  8. I. HATE. TO. BE. LATE. To anything. I loathe going places with people oblivious to time. It stresses me out.
  9. I clean and re-organize every closet in our house at least monthly.
  10. I cannot go to sleep if there is anything that shouldn't be on my kitchen counters.
  11. If I am more than four or five months behind in my scrapbooking, I will lose sleep at night worrying about it. I will then clear my schedule for the next several days and get caught up.

I'm afraid to give you anymore. I worry that you will have me sent to a nice padded room with lots of people in white jackets. Just take solace in the fact that most of my crazy is locked up inside for the most part. The crazy need not come out, right?

And I do realize that I'm not normal.

Now tell me what you are OCD about. Is it possible there is anyone crazier than me?

Didn't think so.