Pillow Talk

So the other night Skip and I were laying in bed, and I mentioned I was noticing a nice change in my legs and backside since restarting at the gym. Just some toning, some firming going on. He informed me that I had already mentioned this to him, and insinuated that perhaps I was a teensy bit vain.

Feeling stung, and wanting to dig my way out of any ill-perceived vanity, the following conversation ensued:

A: Did I ever tell you that I used to wear headgear?

B: Yeah, I think you mentioned that before.

A: You know, the kind that straps around your head. It was hideous.

B: Mm-hmm.

A: Yeah, I had braces AND headgear. Not pretty.

B: I imagine.

A: I refused to wear it out in public.

B: That's because you're vain.

A: I am NOT vain! If I had been wearing headgear on our first date, would you have still been interested in me?

B: Ahhh... No.

A: WHAT!?!

B: Sorry babe. That's a no.

A: But what if I was still an attractive 34 year old woman, with nice legs and long, blond hair?

B: Ain't happenin baby.

A: Seriously? Even if I had the same sense of humor and we totally clicked like we do now?

B: Nah.

A: What if we had met online, and you were really drawn to me as a person before you knew about the headgear?

B: Then you would've been misleading me, and I probably wouldn't like you anymore.

A: THAT IS SO SHALLOW! YOU ARE SO VAIN! You wouldn't want to be seen with me just because I had on headgear?

B: Goodnight, baby. Sleep well.

A: silent pouting; exaggerated tossing and turning; occasional loud sighs

B: You're beautiful.

A: happy, vanity and pride fully restored: Thanks B. Love you.

And so it goes. But come on. Is there really something so wrong with this:

that can't be overcome with this:

What's Been Goin' On

Last year, I called it the Whinewood Derby. This year saw great improvement. The oldest child tried a little harder to make a car whose wheels wouldn't fall off. He tried some weights. He used graphite. And he placed a few times in the races. We were all much happier. And while he was very happy with his '09 Corvette, his favorite part of the night was probably still the Lego pit.

But let me say this... Check out the size of this computer. They had this system rigged with a laser at the finish line. The laser tracked which car placed in which order, and then, using the Pinewood Derby Software (yes, I know, I had the same stupid, confused look on my face when I heard about it too...) an image was projected up on the wall displaying the results. Not only that, but each boy voice-recorded their name into the computer during the weigh-in, and when their car crossed the "laaay-zer", you could hear the recording annoucing their place. Example: "Joe Brown, first place." "Frank Green, second place." "Mika A, third place..." and so forth. I cannot believe the amount of effort that people put into this event.



THIS KID... got himself into a bit of trouble at school. His consequence at home was to be removed from karate. Since we had already paid for the class, he now owes us a refund. We lovingly instilled our logic upon him with a sheet of chores he can do to earn that money. I'll give him this... he is a diligent worker. He also has to wear church clothes to school until further notice, to remind him to carry himself appropriately.

And let me just say this about the female progeny of our home.

She's lucky she's so cute, and that we adore her. Because all of the tattling that is going on right now is about to tarnish her golden child status.

"Mom, Keola's BODDERING ME!!"

"What is he doing to bother you?"

"He looking at me and I don't LIKE IT!!!" (remember, all caps indicates SCREAMING) I'd love to blame it on her hearing impairment, but the constant screaming is totally behavioral. And totally irritating.

The grownups of the house are alive and well, albeit tired and stressed. I thought January was supposed to be a decompressing month after the holidays. We are now rolling into February Fatigue. Somethin' ain't right here.

The Wrath of Khandrea

Isn't it a delicious coincidence that my name is pronounced AHNdrea, thus spawning the outlandishly clever title of my post?

So, um, no thanks to the majority of you, I lost the battle. Look what came in our mailbox the other day from Netflix:

While I realize most of you were probably just trying to promote our marital harmony by suggesting I watch this with my husband, frankly, I'm appalled at the lack of solidarity amongst the female crew. I mean, sure we expected Brent and Steve to side with Skip. I was sure they had probably even watched it and enjoyed it as well. But LADIES! Are you KIDDING ME? Some of you even came out as closet trekkies. Shameful.

My favorite comment was from Tiff.

I would have to say that you should at least try to watch your husband's favorite movie. Maybe you could staple your eyelids open before the movie starts to make him feel really good about it.

She was onto something there. So staple I did, and here's what I learned from the experience:

Men can have too much of a good thing, and they can actually make me feel naughty for looking.

I can take the weight off and KEEP IT OFF! Just ask Jenny.

The negotiator can always search for the lowest fares.

Apparently, he was beamed up from Witch Mountain... where he successfully escaped to in the mid-70's.

If you don't show up at his wedding just because he's gay and you oppose his lifestyle, he will be really mad at you.

My husband makes good nachos, and thank goodness for that because at least I have something memorable from the evening.

*In all fairness, I didn't HATE the movie. I just couldn't get past the fact that everyone in it now does endorsements of some kind or another. It's one thing if you do endorsements in conjunction with a healthy career. But when you get to a point where endorsements ARE your career, it may imply you've been in a total bomb of a movie at some time in your life. I will say this much: It was definitely better than The Women.

So You Think You Can Dance...

Katie tagged me on this thing called 4x4. You're supposed to take the 4th photo folder from your hardrive, choose the 4th picture in it, and post about it. I tried that, and it turned out to include the face of someone I prefer not to look at if I can help it. Even more so, I doubted my husband would appreciate having me posting pictures of Mr. Firsttimearound, so I had to try a different method. (For the record, those pictures are being saved for the children, and once they have their own hard drives one day, mine will be wiped clean.)
So I tried something different. I opened my pictures folder, closed my eyes, and just started pressing the arrow keys. When I stopped, I opened my eyes, and I had actually landed on my old videos folder. This video was taken off my old point and shoot camera, which had no sound and is now dead.
It is proof that my life once existed in sheer chaos. I was single, teaching full time, and had these three crazy children that wore whatever they wanted and thought they could dance. My house is trashed, as you will see, and my kids weren't far behind in the "tidy and organized" category. At least we were still having some kind of fun, even in the middle of insanity. I would love to know what song we were listening to...

And yes, I did go to bed exhausted every night. They were absolutely wild. Just for fun, here's the video that came next in the folder:

So now I am supposed to tag 4 people to do the same thing. Fourth folder, fourth picture. Post about it Steve, Paige, Gabi, and Anna .

From Bikini Top to Melon Ballers

Holy Smokes on the previous post. There's a follow up in the works, to be released later this week. Until then...

Age 19: Biggest concern- have I worn the same bikini top too often this week? Have I rotated through the collection enough?

Age 35: Biggest concern- the sunburns I incurred from said bikini tops are now filling me with regret and irritation.

Yeah. When you're young, carefree, in college... your day wardrobe consists of a lot of bikini tops. There doesn't even really have to be water around. You just throw on the shorts and the top, and head out to play in the sun. You haven't birthed or nursed children yet, so you wear it well. Hopefully all the guys you're hanging out with will feel the same way, and you can score some free barbecue. Oh, and let's not forget all the time spent in the tanning bed. SPF? WTF?!

With the wisdom of age, I can now look back and wonder what the hell I was actually trying to achieve. A less-lighter shade of pale perhaps? Dimming the glare? Ecru, at best. I mean, come on people. When we talk about "white" folk, I am the poster child.

So funny thing, I've had this funky anomaly on my back for a month now. I'll spare you the gory details, but suffice it to say the time came to see a medical professional. As said medical professional is poring over my back, she casually asks me, "Have you had many sunburns in your life?" My mind is racing: Do I give a smart-mouth remark about how I'm both super-white AND vain, or do I just say "Yes ma'am." I opt for the latter. Next words out of her medical professional mouth are, "Well we'll just go ahead and cut this thing off and send it in."

HOLD UP, WAIT A MINUTE, AIN'T NOTHIN BUT TUTTI-FRUITY, said Salt-n-Pepa. We don't just throw around the term "cut this thing off" when referencing body parts.

...Or do we?

As it turns out, we do. I said, "I have only got 30 minutes before I have to pick my children up from school." Twenty minutes and three stitches later I was redressing, staring at a funky looking chunk of myself floating in a jar of antiseptic.

This is as much as you're gonna see of it:



The moral of the story is: yes, you were hot at 19. Now, your skin is melon-balled right off your body in time for you to pick up your children from school. Don't forget to borrow your five year old's SPF 50. No shame in wearing a Water Babies product.

Some Sort of Mars and Venus Encounter

So here's a little guest post from my husband. Apparently he has an "opinion" that he'd like to share. And apparently he would like you all to BACK said "opinion". For the record, I hate Star Trek. And also, for the record, I feel that even though The Women was a STUPID movie, we watched it together because the man loves me, and knows who butters his bread.

I mean, I'm just sayn.

Anyway... Here's what the man had to say:

I just want to comment on the “The Women” post. First off Shally, really? You kinda liked it? That’s like saying I kinda like having my eyelids stapled to my forehead and being forced to watch one-legged midgets box with one arm tied behind their backs. But I’ll let you slide on this because you hooked me up with the camera lens info. Second, this movie was bad for a lot of reasons but I think it came down to the fact that there were no men in the movie. Oh there were references to men, but not a single one to be seen in the whole movie. Believe me, I looked (how do you think I made it through the 114 minutes?)

Having said that, I think that I should be rewarded for watching that movie, and my reward should be Andrea watching what is, in my opinion, the opposite of a movie with no men. That movie is (wait for it) “Star Trek II, The Wrath of Khan”. Andrea is running from this movie, but I feel she owes me on this one. How can she resist the sophisticated Latin lover Ricardo Montalban as the genetically enhanced Khan? And the man that needs no enhancing, William Shatner, as James Tiberious Kirk? Come on people, help me out here! I’m leaving it in your hands. All you have to do is nay or yea and we’ll take it from there.

Lastly, thanks to all those who gave me props for hanging in there and for Paige who was waiting for something to happen. Something did happen, the movie got worse.

PS: Steve, as the only other male who openly reads my wife's blog, I'm counting on you to have my back.

Soft Pretzels and Deep Doctrine

I have the opportunity to be present in an elementary school cafeteria every day. Sometimes, I sit and observe the kids while they eat.


Today they had soft pretzels with nacho cheese dip for lunch. They seemed to enjoy it, and the fine cuisine allowed conversation to flow freely. Here's what I heard:


BOY (to girl): So Jesus lives in heaven with his parents. Didja know that?
GIRL: No.
BOY: Oh yeah. He's up there with them.
GIRL: That isn't real.
BOY: OHYESITIS! Are you kidding? He doesn't have a wife though. Just Jesus and his mom and dad.
GIRL: There's no such thing as Jesus.
BOY: Um, yeah there iiiiiiis. Duh. And pretty soon sometime I don't really know when, he's gonna come back and get all of us and take us to heaven with him.
GIRL: Nuh-uh.
BOY: Yeah-huh. And since you don't believe in him, you're gonna be in big trouble because he's gonna make you invisible.
GIRL: WHAT?!



BOY: Yeah. Jesus is coming in a big cloud. And everyone who believes in him gets to go back up to heaven with him. And everyone who doesn't believe in him gets made invisible and then they have to go YOU-KNOW-WHERE. Plus, if you get to go with him, he's gonna give you a new body. I'm gonna try and get a Chinese one.
GIRL: Well then you can't talk to anyone because no one knows how to talk Chinese.
BOY: No, he's gonna make it so everyone can talk the same language.
GIRL: You're making all this up.
BOY: EVERYONE AT THIS TABLE WHO BELIEVES IN JESUS RAISE YOUR HAND!
most hands go up
BOY: See. I told you it's real. Everyone knows it. You must not be a Christian.
GIRL: I don't even know what that is. Wanna play chase at recess?
BOY: Yeah.

Save Yourself The Time...

As Skip so eloquently put it, "Well THAT'S two hours of my life I can never get back..."

We watched this movie last night. You know how sometimes a movie starts off "slow" but you keep watching, in hopes that it will pick up?

This movie was sort of like that. Minus the part where it ever picks up.

I was so excited about the cast. With the exception of Debra Messing, whom I find annoying and over-exaggerated, I really like everyone in the cast. But the storyline was so weak, and the roles were so staged, I could hardly stand the fact that I committed myself to watching the entire thing.

Jada Pinkett Smith is one cool chick. I am impressed with her seemingly stable celebrity marriage. She appears to be a nice person. Except when she's playing a rough-around-the-edges lesbian who hangs out with rich white girls. She was like a piece of a puzzle that got put away in the wrong box. And it was annoying.

Annette Bening was supposed to be a ruthless executive trying to hold onto her job. In reality, she was a spineless fluke. Eva Mendes tried to come off as an overly-confident man stealer. It was hard to see her as confident when she lost the man and opted for a woman instead. Debra Messing I just can't stand. I've always felt Will and Grace should've been called Karen and Jack. In this movie, she was confusing and lost in her role as an artsy baby-making-machine.

Meg Ryan was stunning. I cannot get over the fact that she is 63 years old. There's no way! She doesn't look a day over 45. But even her ageless beauty wasn't enough to carry the movie. She was the only character whose story and emotions were even semi-convincing, but by the time I realized how likeable she was, I was half asleep.

Hopefully you haven't already wasted your money on this film. I'm no film critic, but I figured I'd do the world a favor and make it known that this one is not worth even Netflixing.

*Post note: I am actually an idiot, yes. We looked up Meg Ryan's birthdate after the movie, and we read it wrong. We were probably still in a total brain fart from watching this stupid movie. Thanks, Lisa, for the correction. It was 1961, making her almost 48. Now that I can handle.

Romeo and Juliet, Elementary Style

So. The flyer comes home today for cheer leading sign ups. Noe expresses interest in signing up. Keola is reading it and he says "This is only for GIRLS. I'm not going to sign up for CHEER LEADING!" I reminded him that we often see male cheerleaders at the University games. "They hold the girls up, and catch them when they jump. Remember, son?" And this was his reply:
"So I could pick up hot girls? I'm totally signing up. Only I'm NOT picking up Noe. That's disgusting."

So you tell me. What, exactly, is his understanding of "picking up" girls???















On another note, someone got a princess outfit for Christmas. (from the same people who bought Baby Alive Poopsalot. Thanks Mom and Dad...) Anyway, she put this outfit on the other day, and walked around asking if anyone wanted to have their picture taken with the Princess. No, we're not too vain over here. Then she got to work straightaway on this little note. Do you know what it says? I'll tell you.

"Joe, Noe Love You."

She is planning on giving it to Joe. Joe, in her kindergarten class. Joe, who is a boy that she apparently loves. Joe, who had better sleep with one eye open from here on out. Just ask my husband. Oh, sorry, he's busy. Cleaning his shotgun.

...And Fun Was Had By All.

So we decided to have a party for New Year's Eve. Our kids are all gone, so we figured we'd try the grown-up thing. Surprisingly, we still remember how to interact with other adults when there is no Polly Pockets or Transformers theme involved.

First off, this guy was running the bar. And he did a very good job. So good, in fact, that he was a BIT paranoid about my intrusion as an attempted barmaid, and quickly shooed me away when I tried to start pouring drinks. Jeeze. Some people.


A couple of Blokes got together and played an intensely "scientific" (right Mel?) game of strategy. Notice the men in deep thought as the youngest party guest takes his turn.



The night got crazy when the tin man showed up...

...along with his slightly confused tin man friend.

We had this brilliant idea to buy party hats. We figured no one would wear them because, well, they look so stupid. Everyone wore them. And suddenly, we wondered just how rude it would be if the hosts declined the "stupid" look.
*Note our friend Mark in the shirt and tie, very overdressed for the party. He is the bishop of our church, and in spite of his "explanation" that he had come straight from a youth dance, we realize that frankly, he just doesn't know how to dress down anymore. Honestly, does he even own casual clothes???


We had a really super time, and at midnight I got to make out a little with this guy. I mean, really though, how much making out can you actually do with your bishop sitting next to you???

HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!