I Have a Confession

I am a city girl.  There I said it. 

No, I did not grow up in a city.  Our town was rural; maybe not the most rural town out there, but we certainly were not a thriving metropolis. 

And, we lived next to a farm.  The fact that cows, occasionally, walked through our yard has to give me some rural points.  There was a pond near by, and when it froze over in the winter we ice skated on it.  With that pond was also a stream, where we went inner tubing in the summer.

All this is said to give me some rural girl street cred. 

And, if I am trying to give myself street cred, then I must be a city girl. 

I like my shopping, and my malls.  After living in the suburbs I miss the Pottery Barn, Ann Taylor, Banana Republic, and grocery stores with an actual selection.  On the flip side, our bank account is much happier. 

I need street lights.  Yes, to all you city folk, there are actual roads, in this country, that have no lights to guide your way.  You are left with only your car's headlights and the sky to see your way.  Let me tell you, It. Is. Scary.

When I turn onto a gravel road I think I've reached a person's drive way.  No, not a drive way, it is an actual, state maintained road. 

I'm happy to believe that chicken cutlets come from the grocery store, wrapped in cellophane.  Hubby has talked about his younger days, when they slaughtered chickens and pigs, and wouldn't it be great if our kids had that experience.  I ask him if he would like to continue eating meat, or would he like me to become vegetarian. 

"Look, the cows are standing up, doesn't that mean it will rain?"

The smell.  No, actually, the city is just as smelly as the country.  It may be a different smell, but trust me, the city has a smell, and I may just take the country smell over the city one. 

I Have a Confession

Earlier in the week I wrote about my lost motivation. 

Well, this may be one of the reasons why:

It is a game found on Webkinz.

No, I don't have an account, but my children do, and I've been racking up the points for them.  My dear daughter managed to spend 4,000 of those points, collected over several weeks of play, in one afternoon on furniture, clothes and food for her Webkinz. 

I'm not a big game player.  However, this has gotten serious.  To the point I have found message boards, giving tips on the game.  I have written out cheat sheets, which I use for each game.

Serious and crazy. 

Just Breath

I'm not big on messes.  Paint, Play-Doh, crafts, even cooking, I need to have some element of control in the process.  "Control in the process" means I do most of it, while the kids ask, and ask, and ask again what they can do.  I am uncomfortable giving the kids full reign, and letting them at it. 

Over the years, giving up control has gotten a little easier.  When we moved into our current house (JT was 3 and ED was 22 months) I began to loosen up.  There was now linoleum, instead of carpet, under our kitchen table.  The boys were allowed to play with the Play-Doh.  Then we bought an art easel, and that meant the paint came out. 

As the children have gotten older they are able to do more activities on their own.  This means, I am able to turn my back and not see what they are doing.  Get me involved, and immediately they lose any part of the process. 

And then there is cooking, or allowing the children to cook, bake cookies.  This usually takes place if I have had several hours to mentally prepare. 

So, this afternoon, when the kids asked to help me with a painting project I said, "sure".  It had been awhile since they had helped with anything crafty, I was feeling lulled into motherly guilt.  We were just painting a dowel rod, about an inch round.  How hard could it be?

How messy could it get?

Windy day, absent minded children, and a mother with a low threshold for messes.

The kids were happy, they got to help ... with paint.

I'll wash ED's t-shirt tomorrow, to see if the pearlescent paint will wash out.   

I Have a Confession

I have a lead foot.  Whether it is driving, or walking, I move fast and those in my way usual feel me breathing down their neck ... well maybe not in the car, but I am quite a nuisance in the store or on the gym indoor track.

Speed Limits?  That means 5 miles over right!

Walking through the store, I've taken out a couple Achilles heals.   

I blame it on the Yankee in me.  We now live in the south, and it is true people do move slower.

Walking around the track the other evening, it began to get crowded, and people were congregating.  Yes, they were walking, but when you are three abreast, and taking up 4 lanes, and the little old lady with the cane is passing you, well, let us just say I can't be held accountable for my actions.

I figure acknowledgment to a problem is always the first step to seeking help.  And, at my pace, I should be through the 12 step process in half the time. 

I Have a Confesssion

This was my FB status the day before we left on our cruise: 

On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being most pitiful, how sad is it that we have one bag packed with just shoes? (Some of them are Brian's.)

All, but 1 friend who also loves shoes, of my friends gave it a 10.

I am a notorious over packer.   And, my notoriety struck again while packing for our cruise.  What to pack, how much to take, outfits for dinner, snorkeling, touring the ruins, ....

What I didn't plan on was spending 1/2 of my time lounging by the pool.  All you need for the pool is a bathing suit.  Yes, I remembered the bathing suit, but when that is the only thing you are doing it is not necessary to have one clean outfit for each day of the cruise. 

Here is a list of what I didn't need to pack.

I could have done without 3 pairs of the ... well, let's just say my shoes took up one of our carry on bags.

One of those pairs were sneakers.  Sneakers!?!  Seriously, I thought I was going to work out.  Good intentions, and all that.

Speaking of working out, the work out clothes should have stayed home.

6 days, 6 pairs of shorts, right?  Not when you are lounging by the pool all day, and the two pairs of shorts you did wear received a cumulative wearing time of 10 hours, total. 

How many shirts did I  pack, and actually wear?  Well, see the above comment on the shorts. 

Something about not having access to a washing machine, or Walmart, or my own closet makes me want to be prepared for all scenarios. 

I also over packed for the kids.  I had to make sure they had EVERYTHING before leaving for grandma and grandpa's.  The thing is, everything was not needed.  They are close to a Walmart, and had access to a washing machine.  Even better, my MIL washed the kids clothes half way through the week, giving me a lot less laundry than I was expecting!  Walmart and washing machines aside, they were at our house every weekday, picking up the kids from the bus stop.  If anything was forgotten, and a few items were, they were quickly acquired.

Is there any hope for my chronic over packing?  Probably not.  Granted, since taking this cruise I now now know better as to what to, and not to, pack.  And, if I haven't learned, I'll just have to pay that pesky airline overweight charge (BTW thank you Jet Blue for being a little lenient with the weight.)

Tales of Parenthood

I forget how old the kids were, but they were young; the boys were either 3 &  almost 2 years old, or 4 & almost 3 years old.

It was a Saturday morning.  Hubby was not home, and I wanted to take a shower.  So, like every good mom, who wants 10 minutes for a shower, I plopped my children in front of the TV, left all doors open, from the TV to my bathroom (our bedroom is on the same floor as the family room), and hopped into the shower.

When I came out my boys were eating candy canes?!?!

"Where did they come from?"  (This was around the time our oldest had a penchant for sneaking candy.)

Remember, they were young, which meant good verbal skills and toddler/preschool boys are not always used in the same sentence, unless you are discussing their lack of.

Eventually, I came to understand that Santa had driven by, on a firetruck, and was handing out candy canes.

Remember, Hubby was not home, I was in the shower, and my young children just ran outside, in the winter, unattended, probably still in the their PJ's and slippers, to greet Santa, and gather a candy cane.

Has this ever happened to you?  You know that feeling, or feelings; where utter frustration, failure, and relief are felt, all at the same time.  Oh, and the fear that CPS will be knocking on your door any day now.  Please, tell me I'm not the only one who has ever felt that fear.

I Have a Confession

Prince William (of England) and Kate Middleton recently announced their engagement, and I was all over those news stories.

Yes, I will be watching the wedding, come April 29th.

Yes, I watched the funeral of Princess Diana, in 2007. It was on a Saturday morning, yes I got up early, on a Saturday, to watch it.

Yes, I watched the wedding of Prince Andrew and Fergie. 

Yes, I also watched the wedding of Prince Charles and Princess Diana. I didn't have to rise early for that one. We were living in England at the time. Living in the country, it was a little hard to miss the hoopla.

I even have a commemorative mug. And books. A book on the Queen, the Queen Mother, Princess Diana, and the Royal Wedding.

Oh, the publishers of those books really pushed the fairy tale tale. 

The whole fairy tale thing was massively pushed. Don't believe everything you read.

I'll blame my time in England on my slight fascination with the Royal Family. We caught a glimpse of Princess Anne on "walkabout" while we shopped in Swindon. Princess Diana came to our school. Well, she didn't come to our school. Her helicopter landed on our school field, she was attending a ribbon cutting celebration next door. The scene was exactly like you see in pictures, crowds of people, adults and school children, cheering for her and waving Union Jacks and flowers.

Our school was over run by security personnel and journalists. We got a tour of her helicopter.

We have pictures.  Well, my mother has the pictures. 

So yes, I'm slightly obsessed with the British Royal Family. I will want to watch the wedding. I've already made plans with some of my slightly obsessed friends, we will be watching together.  Now, to get DVR so we don't have to rise so early to see the wedding. 

Do you have any slight obsessions?

I Have a Confession

Sunday, I picked up my kids from SS when their teacher said "you are one of the few families that celebrate Advent. I asked the kids who celebrated, and it was only 2 families (out of 5 or 6), plus my own."

Most likely I had a deer in headlights look, and realized that she is not a Facebook friend, so she had not read this post from the night before:

And again, totally caught unprepared. Tomorrow is the first Sunday in Advent. Thankfully, our advent candle display is sitting on the kitchen mantle, left out from last Christmas. Now, if only I can find the family Advent devotional book we used (OK, started, but didn't finish last year.) I'm beginning to see a theme.

We have a hard time following through with any type of Advent celebration. We have a hard time keeping regular family devotions.

Last year was the first time we even tried to celebrate Advent. Every year I would think about it, usually after Advent started.

Last year, I lucked out. While browsing through the books at Ollie's (probably in July) I found A Family Advent: Keeping the Savior in the Season. At $3.99, why not. That got me started. I found the perfect "advent wreath" at Target. It is actually a metal tray with 5 votive holders. During the year it sits on the kitchen mantel, around April I may remember to remove the little pine cones, red berries and Christmas like leaves, just leaving the decorative rocks in the tray.In our house, it is best to make everything as multi-use as possible. An, evergreen wreath, sitting on my table, would look very much out of place, come June. (And very brown.) Much like the snowman sitting on the top of my fridge.

During the year I was afraid of losing the book. It sits on a bookshelf, in our kitchen, with many other activity/craft books. My children kept taking the book, and reminding us of Advent. Then carrying the book around the house. "Thanks for the reminder kid, but we can't do much if we lose it."

This Sunday we pulled down the Advent wreath, pulled out the book. "Oops, we really did not get far last year. Two, of the five, candles had dark wicks. The other three candles were unused.

Hopefully, this year, we will go through the whole book. Light all 5 candles. Then again, knowing us, getting through 3 weeks of Advent would be an accomplishment. Not even saying they need to be consecutive.

Do you have a hard time with following through on traditions, or routines, especially around the holidays?

I Have a Confession

This was originally posted last year. Being that today is Halloween, it seemed an appropriate post, and still very true.
---------------------------------------------


I like Halloween.


There I said it. This Christian, God-fearing woman, likes Halloween.


Understand, this does not mean I decorate my house in a haunted house theme (not that there is anything wrong with that.) Or, that I dress up (not that there is anything wrong with that.) The kid's costumes are kept to kid-friendly themes.


Apparently I still have issues with admitting my like for Halloween. I find it necessary to categorize this confession in a certain manner.



OK, let me start over. Let's see, how can I explain this?

I'm completely in like with the commercialism of Halloween (oh yeah, that sounds better.) The candy free-for-all, the (appropriate) costumes for kids, and hanging out with the neighbors while we trick-or-treat around the neighborhood.


You see, with Christmas and Easter we face a constant balancing act in keeping the true meaning, while enjoying some of the "fun" aspects of these holidays, and wondering if we are scarring our children by not participating in the Santa Claus and Easter Bunny myths.



Even with the 4th of July, Memorial Day and Labor Day holidays comes a bit of lecturing. I feel slightly guilty for enjoying my cheese burger, by the pool, when I'm hearing "don't forget the meaning behind this day." Yes, but the fireworks are awfully pretty.


Really, I just love the candy. And the dressing up. My kids love to dress up. Halloween is the only day of the year you can venture outside of your house with a Cinderella, Transformer, or Tony Stewart wannabe without raising any one's eyebrows.


I also love a reused costume. This pumpkin costume got 4 Halloween's out of it, and it was bought second hand, and then I sold it.


Now, could someone please pass the candy bowl.

I Have a Confession

We canceled our AAA membership.

OK, not exactly an earth shattering confession, unless you are my father.

As far as I can remember, he has been a member of AAA. I became a member the moment after I became a licensed driver. Putting Hubby up onto my membership came the moment after we married. OK, not the moment after, but it was one of those "to-do" items after returning home from the honeymoon, right along with returning half of our wedding gifts. What is it with Mennonites and not using gift registries?

We have been AAA members ever since, and those first few years of marriage, we USED that membership. The number of times we were towed paid for the membership, for many years to come.

Now, those years are over.

Then we broke my father's number one rule, when it comes to cars. We bought new.

Then we bought another new car.

We haven't been towed since, knock, knock on wood. Though there was that very cold Sunday morning we were, for a short time, stranded at church.

About the time our AAA renewal form arrived, we also received our auto insurance bill. One of the items we pay for is, roadside assistance. $4. AAA membership: $161. You do the math.

But wait, you say, what about those nifty AAA triptiks? Yes, they were nifty. I remember picking one up and watching the AAA assistant use a highlighter, on my map, making the triptik, right there, right then. The good old days.

With Mapquest and Garmin (neither have reimbursed me in any way to say this, though Garmin, if you are reading, Hubby would LOVE lifetime map updates.) we haven't picked up a triptik since ... no idea since when.

There is also the fact that (I think) it is a good one hour drive to the nearest AAA office.

But wait, those free AAA travel books? Yes, they are also nice. However, first, Hubby and I would need to travel in order to take advantage of them, and second, there is the internet.

So, we canceled our AAA membership. And, since my father is laid up after back surgery, he is probably reading this, and I will probably receive an email, or phone call, from him, by the end of the day.

All I can say is sorry Dad. You have imparted many life lessons I still carry to this day. The AAA membership? Well, times have changed.

I Have a Confession

I hate egg plant and bok choy.

When I say hate, I mean stomach-churning-nauseousness-recreations-of-morning-sickness kind of hate.

There I said it, and yes I am feeling nauseous right now.

I love Farmer's Markets. When walking through our local Farmer's Market, I am like a kid in the candy store. Trust me, those sugar peas and asparagus, fresh, just picked, and natural, are almost as good, and sweet, as candy.

This love began 8 years ago, when we joined a CSA.

It is also when my nauseous induced hatred began, for the former mentioned two items.

That first summer, when we joined our first CSA, and while I was learning to love spinach and napa cabbage, I was also pregnant with our second child, and "morning" sickness was in full swing.

While on vacation that summer, with my family, my Mom took some of the bok choy and made a delicious dish. At least, everyone else said it was delicious. The following summer, when not pregnant, I tried the recipe, and just couldn't eat it. The gag reflex was in full flex.

Why I developed a love (pregnancy craving type of love) for some items, and a nauseous inducing hatred for others, is beyond me. You will have to ask my hormones.

During other pregnancies I created cravings for smoothies, sausages, bacon and peaches.

Not all at once.

These are cravings that continue with me. I love a good smoothie. I can't pass up the peaches, when they are at the market. And, though my arteries would love to give up the sausages and bacon, I just can't.

It is interesting how some things linger from one's pregnancy, though I wish these extra pounds could go by the wayside. Maybe I should consider a diet of egg plant and bok choy.

I'm feeling myself turn green, just by writing that sentence.

Do you have any food cravings, or food diversions, which you can't explain?

I Have A Confession

***A replay from last summer, but so very true any summer. The only problem, I haven't been able to find these baking chips, since the initial purchase. They were really good. I would LOVE to find them, again.

I ate a whole bag of these:I mean, it is summer vacation. The kids are home, A.L.L. day. My brain is turning to mush. At the end of the day, poor Hubby is getting what is left of my patience, nadda.

So when I (re)discovered these in my baking box ... SALVATION!

They are "Reese's Premier Baking Pieces." They have been languishing in my baking box for awhile. I picked them up at the local crash and dent store for 99 cents. At 99 cents I find myself stocking up on a lot of baking chips. And stocking up, and stocking up, until there is a pile of them languishing in my baking box just waiting for the perfect recipe.

The perfect recipe, or summer vacation, and kids home A.L.L. day.

Hey, I've got two choices, ... and it is never too early for chocolate, especially Reese's.

I Have a Confession

"Are you relaxing?"

Hubby asked me Saturday afternoon. We were on a weekend family get away. We were CAMPING.

I looked at him cross-eyed, and said something about it not being the spa, but the kids were happy so I was happy.

If you can't be honest with your husband, then who can you be honest with?

Our church retreat was this past weekend. The routine has been to rent a pop-up camper for two nights, head out Friday, the kids play in the stream Saturday morning and in the pool Saturday afternoon and evening, I sit in a camping chair all day Saturday catching up with friends, and then we head out on Sunday. Oh yes, and there is a lot of eating in between.

Along with a lot of clothing changes. We never remember to dress the kids in their swimming suits first thing Saturday morning. So, by mid-morning, when they are down to one change of clean shorts and underwear we finally tell them to wear their suits.

The weekend was fun. And, in a camping sort of way, relaxing. We sat around and watched the kids play. The adults talked, and we played with the kids. We connected with those in our Sunday school class, and other attenders of our church whom we normally don't have a chance to talk with.

It was a fun weekend.

It is just that I'm not a camping sort of girl. Anything below Hampton Inn is roughing it for me.

And though sleeping on a slab of foam, on top of a slab of wood, is an upgrade from sleeping on the ground when I was in Girl Scouts, I'm getting old and really, really, really, LOVE my king-size bed.

I'm now researching spa get-a-ways. After this weekend I deserve it.

A Recovery Program

Hello, my name is Erin, and I'm a recovering Type A.

"Hello Erin."

The other weekend I was faced with THE worst case scenario, I couldn't find my date book. It was lost!

It was left behind, at the high school where EM's recital was held. (I still have no idea how it fell out of my purse. It isn't little by any stretch of the imagination.)

My date book. My life. My family's life. All written in that mid-size black book, and it had disappeared.

Upon that realization I took a deep breath. Then several more.

"I will not panic, I will not panic, I will not ..."

For awhile that worked, and then I panicked.

As Sunday progressed I braced myself for the inevitable, I may not find it. The high school is large. The auditorium was probably used several times over from Saturday night to Monday morning. It could have been thrown in a lost & found box, not found at all, carried off (because all those free ice cream coupons at McDonalds and knowing my refrigerator water filter number are real valuable.)

Monday morning I strolled into the office, crossing my fingers, and asked my question.

"Yes, we have it."

Praise The Lord!!!! Not only had it been found, it was being kept with care in someones office.

I breathed again. I jumped for joy. I then began searching for 12 step programs for Type A's.

Do you think they will make me hand over my label maker?

Are you an incurable Type A'er, or maybe you wish you had a few more of those personality traits?

And for more Company Girl Coffee, head over to Rachel Anne's at Home Sanctuary.

I Have a Confession

I don't like playing with my children.

Not just my children, I don't like playing. I'm a firm believer in children being independent, and learning to entertain themselves...at least that is what I tell myself when I feel guilty about not playing with my children.

Thankfully, for my children, Hubby does a great job at playing with them, and our children know this. Rarely, will they ask me to play, unless it is a board game, which I do enjoy playing. EM wants a tea party, she asks Dad. ED or JT want to build a Lego village, they ask Dad. They want someone to color with them, they ask Dad.

Every now and then EM will ask me to help her with a puzzle. This is humorous since I've never been a puzzle person and my 4-year-old works on 100 piece puzzles. What happens is I get her started; find the corners, put together the edges, at which time my attention has waned and she is going strong in finishing the puzzle.

So, there it is. I don't like playing with my children (or any children.) Does this make me a bad parent? Possibly. Then again, on the scale of good and bad, I think some of my better parenting qualities help to balance out my not so good qualities. And, that is what we, as parents, need to remember. We can't do everything, perfectly, all the time, but what we can do well far outweighs our weaknesses.

I Have a Confession

I'm an introvert.

Well, that is only part of the confession, the other part has to do with the panic attacks I've experienced the past two Wednesday nights.

Our church has a Wednesday night program, and the past two sessions I have attended a Bible study on the women of John (That would be the women found in the Gospel of John, not of John himself.)

No, that isn't the confession either.

At the beginning of each session our teacher has asked us to introduce ourselves and answer a question. The first Wednesday we were to give the name of a woman from the Bible we admire or relate too. Oh yeah, because I'm well versed in Biblical characters, especially when put on the spot. Last night we were to share what women have influenced our lives.

:::Crickets:::

You see, one of the characteristics of an introvert is that it takes us awhile to gather our thoughts, edit, prepare, re-edit and re-gather, and then we share with the group ... or would if the conversation hadn't continued and the group is now 3 topics ahead of the introvert.

Going around the circle, introducing our names and answering the question, this introvert doesn't have a whole lot of time to put together her thoughts. It doesn't help that some of the time I do have is spend on Lamaze breathing, trying to prevent that panic attack.

By the time they reach me my answer to the question usually sounds like gibberish, rambling incoherent sentences.

Maybe next week I'll excuse myself at the beginning to refill my coffee cup, and return after the introduction.

I Have A Confession

These are (still) sitting on my front porch:





And yes, even after taking the picture they are still on my front porch. Lord have mercy.

I Have a Confession

I like Halloween.


There I said it. This Christian, God-fearing woman, likes Halloween.


Understand, this does not mean I decorate my house in a haunted house theme (not that there is anything wrong with that.) Or, that I dress up (not that there is anything wrong with that.) The kid's costumes are kept to kid-friendly themes.


Apparently I still have issues with admitting my like for Halloween. I find it necessary to categorize this confession in a certain manner.



OK, let me start over. Let's see, how can I explain this?

I'm completely in like with the commercialism of Halloween (oh yeah, that sounds better.) The candy free-for-all, the (appropriate) costumes for kids, and hanging out with the neighbors while we trick-or-treat around the neighborhood.


You see, with Christmas and Easter we face a constant balancing act in keeping the true meaning, while enjoying some of the "fun" aspects of these holidays, and wondering if we are scarring our children by not participating in the Santa Claus and Easter Bunny myths.



Even with the 4th of July, Memorial Day and Labor Day holidays comes a bit of lecturing. I feel slightly guilty for enjoying my cheese burger, by the pool, when I'm hearing "don't forget the meaning behind this day." Yes, but the fireworks are awfully pretty.


Really, I just love the candy. And the dressing up. My kids love to dress up. Halloween is the only day of the year you can venture outside of your house with a Cinderella, Transformer, or Tony Stewart wannabe without raising any one's eyebrows.


I also love a reused costume. This pumpkin costume got 4 Halloween's out of it, and it was bought second hand, and then I sold it.


Now, could someone please pass the candy bowl.

I Have A Confession

Unless anyone misreads what I wrote, and your about to read I will begin this posting with a disclaimer:
Yes the sudden death of Michael Jackson is sad. And though I'm not a music fan (meaning I just listen to it, I'm not into the whole whatever it is,) I understand he made a mark on music and deserves his title of King of Pop, or Prince, or whatever it is.

However, when people, and by people I mean regular people who never met the guy, are weeping, and lining the streets in front of his house (don't know, did they do that?) And, use words such as "devastated" to describe THEIR feelings I'm wondering if our society has turned the crazy bend.

And then the insult of all insults happened.

At that time I knew our country had turned the crazy bend. As I settle down for an hour of Grey's Anatomy, the one where Derrick's mom comes to visit, and his mom is played by Tyne Daly. TYNE DALY! And, Meredith sports a high pony tail and scrunchy. ABC preempts it to run a TWO Hour special on Michael Jackson's life. The poor guy has barely been dead for half a day and they are already running television specials.

Of course, ABC's two hour special was only the start of it. Coverage of his death was everywhere. Front page of the newspaper, on NPR all day ... NPR, and we repeated all this "news" on Saturday.

Which brought me to this realization, and the true confession here. Though I don't understand all the bru-ha-ha (really I think the whole wacky turn he took in his life keeps getting in the way of seeing why the world has gone crazy) I am the same way when it comes to the British Royal Family. (Case in point, when I found the the British Royal Family's website I spent a good 15 minutes going through it. And I wonder why it takes me so long to write a post.)

I will watch ANYTHING about the Royal Family. Even the very dry documentaries running on PBS called "The Royal Family at Work."

I watched the wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Di. Granted I lived in England at the time so it was rather hard to miss. I have stamps issued in celebration of their engagement. I even have a tea cup, though none of the now infamous tea towels.

Prince Andrew and Fergie married after we moved back to the States. Still, I awoke early to watch another royal wedding.

I awoke early to watch Di's funeral. (Trust me, the whole waking up early thing is a miracle in and of itself.)

I'm a Royal family stalker. (Said in a figurative sense, do we understand? I don't literally stalk anyone. I'll let you know if a member of MI6 or Scotland Yard comes knocking down on my front door.) So, I can understand how people (as long as your over 28 year of age) can be saddened at the loss of a musical icon.

Just, please give me my Grey's and I'll accept everyone's nutty behavior.

Who do you "stalk"? And again, I stress that "stalk" is used in a figurative sense. As in reading every article you can find on the Internet or distracted for hours by their website and other sites, blogs, and/or tweets about them.

I Have a Confession

I'm not a morning person. I hate getting up. In fact, I take awhile to wake up and prefer to lounge in bed, read a book, and just enjoy the morning (for awhile) from my bed.

Growing up my parent's would point out how I "slept the day away" when I got up around 9 or 10 on a Saturday morning. Now that I'm a mom I've always felt a little guilty about sleeping in on Saturday mornings. Once our family got up and moving I look out at our neighbors and see that they have probably been moving since early that morning. I wonder when I'll mature a little more and stop sleeping my Saturday's away. I've thought all that, until today.

It is OK. It is OK I didn't roll out of bed until 8:30/9:00 this morning. Hubby didn't start making pancakes until 9. The kids watched TV from about 7 until breakfast was ready. And, I'm still in my pajamas. Well, maybe the latter is taking this new found realization a little far, but there you go.

The kid's watch next to no TV during the week, so they are making up for it on Saturday morning.

We have many a Saturday where we are up and moving at an early hour. The lazy Saturday's we do enjoy are truly a luxury.

Everyone is up and out the door at early hours every morning, including Sundays. We are a family who will enjoy lazy Saturdays when they come, because they come far and few between.

And with that all said I'm off to take a shower.