Chocolate Research - repeated

**I may or may not be out of town currently...but if I am out of town, be assured that my house and property is protected by rabid dust bunnies. So you don't get too lonely, I'll be reposting a few of my favorites. This post originally appeared Sept 14, 2007.**

Chocolate Calendar for September 14th:

"Tell people you are working as a consultant for a chocolate company, and your chocolate consumption is actually research."

Ummm...fell down the stairs again. This time it was in the garage and I nearly landed on the Boy. I caught myself on my knee instead of hurting my shoulder so I'm not hurt. Well, my pride is pretty bruised. So I am eating some chocolate today as part of my research. I'm attempting to see if I can move my center of gravity down lower (by enlarging my butt).

Man Jobs - again

**I may or may not be out of town currently...but if I am out of town, be assured that my house and property is protected by rabid dust bunnies. So you don't get too lonely, I'll be reposting a few of my favorites. This post originally appeared May 27, 2008.**


This is the conversation the Man and I had while getting ready for our Memorial Day BBQ.

The Man: Can you get the propane tank refilled?
Me: I have no idea how to do that.
The Man: Just remove the tank, take it to the station -
Me: What?
The Man: It's easy.
Me: I can't do it.
The Man: Why not?
Me: Because that is a Man Job.
The Man: A what?
Me: A Man Job, something the Man is supposed to do. I can't do it.
The Man: (extensive rolling of eyes)
Me: Tell you what, I will birth the children and you refill the propane tank. Deal?


The whole conversation got me thinking about the Man's role at home. There are certain tasks that are undeniably his; I just can't do them. True, there are tasks that are all mine but we need not bring out the femi-nazis amongst my lurkers. Instead, let's talk about Men.

They have the Man Cold and Man Caves. They definitely have Man Jobs. For instance: Bugs. I have been known to not use a room for an entire day simply because I saw a spider in there (and don't tell me that they can crawl under the door! I don't need to hear that!). It is the Man's job to dispose of such unwelcome guests. Agreed?

Cold feet. I got 'em. I had it written into the Marriage Contract that I would be allowed to warm my frozen tootsies on his warm, hairy legs. If he shrieks and squirms away, he is in direct violation of said Contract and is no longer entitled to the benefits and privileges thereof. See? You give a little, you get a little.

Strange noises in the night. I get to cower under the covers - I mean, keep the blankets warm - while he goes in search of the weird sound. And really, let's just blame this one on genetics. Men are bigger and stronger, it's a proven fact. This is one of those times that I don't mind being dainty.

Unloading the groceries. The Man hates grocery shopping. Never liked it. I don't mind it, especially because it usually means I get to be out alone. If I spend the time traipsing around the grocery store, then he should help by unloading the groceries from the van for me. I'll put them away (if I ever want to find anything again), he just needs to use those big strong muscles and haul them inside.

Anything that involves the use of tools. And really, it's not because we don't know how to do these things (my dad taught me well) but we should let them have a little fun every now and then. What puts a smile on a man's face faster than strapping on a tool belt? Changing light bulbs, tightening faucets, replacing the deadbolt that your toddler dismantled while you were in the shower, or rescuing your earring from the sink drain. Good times.

Let's not forget the other jobs: car maintenance, lawn care, only person in the household allowed to pass gas without excusing themselves, and sleeping during church. These are the strenuous obligations of being a Man.

So what are some Man Jobs around your house?

The Wii Gossips - Redux

**I may or may not be out of town currently...but if I am out of town, be assured that my house and property is protected by rabid dust bunnies. So you don't get too lonely, I'll be reposting a few of my favorites. This post originally appeared Oct 8, 2008.**


So you might be surprised to learn that we have a Wii. I never mentioned it before, right? And normally, we love it. The kids can play a lot of the games without constant assistance and not every game involves shooting someone. Ours was a house of harmony. And then we got the Wii Fit.

At first, it seemed harmless enough, encouraging us toward our weight goals and only briefly mentioning that we were so uncoordinated, it wasn't sure how we managed to walk safely. Whenever one of us would log in to play a few balance games, the Wii would ask us if we'd seen one of the other members of our family. Then it would casually remark that the family member had not logged in for a while...but that was no big deal. And really, conversations with the Wii are one-sided. The only response you can make is pressing the A button. No defending yourself, no explanations. Just press A.

One afternoon, the Wii had the following conversation with my daughter (I know because I was sitting on the couch, watching, and possibly eating a Nutty Bar). And the Wii is the one that changes the color of the text...not me and my snotty attitude.

Wii: Welcome back, Da Boo!
Boo: A
Wii: Have you seen Jess recently?
Boo: A
Wii: I haven't seen Jess in six days.
Boo: A
Wii: How is Jess looking these days?
(Then it gave Boo the rare option of an actual response. The choices were: looks bigger, looks smaller, looks more toned, looks the same.)
Boo: looks the same.
Wii: Really? Well...I guess that is possible.
Boo: A
Wii: Maybe you just haven't been paying enough attention.

WHAT??? SIX DAYS, people! I hadn't been on the thing for six days and it's already calling me lazy and - quite possibly - fat. And don't think I haven't noticed that it gasps every time I step on. The Wii is such a skinny punk.

Then again, just before my birthday, it reminded all the members of the family that my birthday was coming, asked them if they'd gotten me a gift yet and suggested they plan a surprise party. So it's not all bad.

Still...machines shouldn't be allowed to talk smack about you to your kids.

Ch-ch-ch-Changes!

Since we've been talking about da Boo quite a bit around here, let's continue, shall we? She's had a pretty exciting time lately.

At her last eye doctor appointment, she got a new prescription. Also, she needed new frames (the previous ones she had for two years and they were starting to dig into the sides of her head). We browsed for a bit but just couldn't find a pair that we both liked. Then we saw these:


Pink, sparkles, and bows. AND the case looks like a purse. Perfect.

June 24th, Boo lost her first tooth.


Actually, she didn't lose it. Her father pulled it out using needlenose pliers. Fortunately, he waited until I left for a hair appointment. Unfortunately, I came back sooner than expected. The tooth had been loose for weeks but the adult tooth was growing in behind it, not knocking it out. It was either the Man or the dentist who had to do it. Then she wanted to hide the tooth so the Tooth Fairy wouldn't take it before she had a chance to show it to her very best friend. The following night, she got four quarters from the Tooth Fairy. Tooth Fairies apparently don't carry dollars.

Then? Boo got a haircut.


She's been begging for months to get a short haircut. I said she could during the summer...then kept putting it off until her bangs were so long that she couldn't see through her hair. I'm not gonna lie; it was a little heartbreaking to watch those beautiful locks fall to the floor.

My toothless, hairless, sparkly Boo.

What does the Tooth Fairy leave at your house?

A Warning to Others

Here's a little tip for ya:

If - when arriving at a very exciting water park - you ask your six-year-old to put sunscreen on your back when all she really wants to do is go down the water slide, she might be a little distracted and not do a very good job...


And? It's just as hard to put sunscreen on your own back as it is to take a picture of what lack-of-sunscreen looks like.