WFMW: The secret to a good home manicure

Seche Vite Fast Dry Top Coat will make your home-done manicure last seven to ten days.

I feel obligated to post this Works for Me Wednesday tip. I cannot be so selfish as to keep this wonderful product all to myself (though the thought occurred to me).

I used to have my nails done at a salon every two weeks. Then kids. Now I do them at home when the mood strikes.

But I can get that salon quality at home with Seche Vite. It really does act like a shiny cement. If it weren't for this product I would NEVER give myself a manicure. I use it when I do the manicure, then every third day I apply another coat. There's no chipping, no peeling...you'll think your nails were born to be Cajun Shrimp.

I buy my supply from a dealer behind the Arby's by my house. I don't know where he gets it, just that he only takes cash. Sometimes he calls and says I only have five minutes to get there or he can't make the deal.

If the dealer doesn't call and I need some really badly, I can get it at my local Sally Beauty Supply for about $8 a bottle. And they take credit cards. However, the last time I was there they had it on sale for $4.50, so I went back home and got Pete's truck. (Update: It is still on sale there!)

For more Works for Me Wednesday tips, visit Shannon at Rocks in My Dryer.

Change is a good thing. Change is a good thing.

As I sat outside, I watched Shirtless Jogger Man sail by on the street in front of my house. Got your mental checklist?

1. Suck in your abdomen.
2. Lose five pounds instantly by standing up tall. Shoulders back and down.
3. Pretend you don't see him.
4. Make sure he sees you.

Forgot to mention that was written in 1999. Read on for the updated version that actually happened yesterday:

As I sat outside, I glanced up to see Shirtless Jogger Man sail by on the street in front of our house. Got your mental checklist?

1. Hold your 36-pound son so he doesn't fall off your lap.
2. Assure him toenail clipping does not hurt.
3. Remind yourself the pajama pants you're wearing need washing.
4. What man?

Totally understandable freakish paragraph

O lny srmat poelpe can raed this. I cdnuolt blveiee that I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd what I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it deosn't mttaer in what oredr the ltteers in a word are, the olny iprmoatnt tihng is that the first and last ltteer be in the rgh it pclae. The rset can be a taotl mses and you can still raed it wouthit a porbelm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the word as a wlohe. Amzanig huh? Yaeh and I awlyas tghuhot slpeling was ipmorantt! If you can raed this psas it on !!

Thanks Mrs. Who!

Do you love/hate your digital camera as much as I do?

My digital camera is a blessing and a curse. Of course I love all the perks of digital photography: cropping, zooming, fixing, sending in emails, etc.

But there's a huge curse.

I don't order prints. Ever! Is this inherent in the purchase of a digital camera? Does your mindset just abandon the prospect of a picture on paper the minute the clerk rings up the sale?

Anyway, I cherish my photo albums. I started them in 1985 or so and I have about 30. Albums. Each one holds at least 200 pictures. Some hold up to 400. As a kid I struggled with math but according to my calculator I have more than 6000 snapshots! Something's just weird about that when you consider I did not have little photo subjects until four years ago...

Anyway, today I realized I haven't ordered prints in more than a year. February 26, 2007 to be exact. So I've been working hard the last couple of days to get them in order and I finally got all my digital prints from the last 14 months uploaded to Clark Color. I'm ready to order 'em up for a very modest nine cents apiece, which is el cheapo as prints go.

Until you consider I have 1217 of them to order.

"Hi, yep, I've got pics of the boys. You wanna come to my house and see them on my monitor?"

I bet you don't hate drying dishes this badly

Our dishwasher has a drying feature on it. Basically it blows hot air on the dishes so they dry inside.

Somehow it got switched off today. I opened the dishwasher door to find WET dishes that needed drying. I'd rather scrub every toilet of every bathroom on my street. With my bare hands.

Now normally I wouldn't fret. I'd close up that door and pretend I didn't see them. I'd wait until Pete got home and lovingly watch him grab a towel and get to work. It's why I married him: he loves putting dishes away.

But Pete's gone on a golf trip right now. I wonder if he'd consider coming home for this.

Nah, so I considered grabbing the rag myself until I realized: heyyyyy! Why don't I just run the dishwasher AGAIN. And turn on the drying feature! What a great idea!

Then I realized that would be just crazy.

So tonight before I go to bed I'm going to open the dishwasher door and let them air dry.

I'm nothing if not resourceful.

Overheard: the observant one

Our church is in the midst of some kind of construction work...I don't really know what's being done, only that diggers and men in hardhats are required for the job.

So this morning as we were leaving Bible study, Mickey and Alex needed to stand at the door and observe the digger operator doing his work: moving dirt from a hole to a nearby big pile.

Only Mickey's description was a little more, uh, descriptive:

"Mom, that man sure is making big dumps..."

Lucky for me it's our Priest's day off...

Not that I miss the newborn days...

There must be a reason my youngest was born with the most mournful cry on earth. I think I know what it is: because if it were any less mournful he would not see any kind of parent figure appear at his crib until 7:30 a.m. Yes, he was born to make this unbelievably sad sound at 1:30 a.m. because no other sound on earth could can pry me from my mattress at that time.

And you know what: I think I could deal with a little crying for a few minutes if I knew his foot wasn't stuck between the slats or he hadn't dropped his blanket overboard. Barring those things I think I would let him cry a minute and he'd go back to sleep.

But then the words start and I turn to jelly.

"...hold you, Mamma! Hold you, Mamma!"

And that's when I leap out of bed and to his side in seconds. And I lift his 36 pounds outta there and I do. Hold him. As much for me as for him. And a couple of minutes later I lay him down and all's well with both our worlds.

I know I'm probably helping him regress his very healthy sleep habits. But one of my sisters (Ja) told me a long time ago "...if one of your children wants you to hold them, why wouldn't you?"

Makes perfect sense to me. Even at 1:30 a.m.

Branson: NOT the entertainment capitol of the south

...unless your idea of entertainment is to shop. And eat at restaurants. Then shop some more. Our party of fifteen (four of whom were under 1. Year. Old.) barely took a second glance at the Branson shows last weekend. Why would we when we stayed at a hotel with an entire mall at its feet?

Now don't get me wrong: I'm sure the Branson shows would have been impressive. But lordy, when most of us are used to power shopping because only have 27 minutes in the mall before our mom guilt overtakes us and we have to go home, or we're shopping while corraling a stroller and/or a toddler...let me tell you, trading the shows for shopping isn't a hard decision.

So that's what we did: shopped. And when we were exhausted from shopping, we ate. (Hmmm, is it possible this vacation could have happened in our own city?!)

Anyway, a few things I learned on the Church Moms trip:

1. Babies are scene stealers even if they aren't yours. My pictures from the trip show more of The Four Littles than they do the moms!

2. Overcast, windy, and 45 degrees? Whatever. We still shopped. And loved it.

3. Sometimes having ten people to consult before buying a purse is a blessing. Sometimes.

4. Peer pressure can occur at any age, even 42 (and limes taste realllly good!).

5. My boys lived without me. Pete, on the other hand...

6. I could not deal with motherhood without the support of the Church Moms. It's just comforting to know there are others who have moments when they feel like they, too, are miserable failures at the job. And then you look at them and say "...what!? You've SO got it together!" And they're like "...no way, I was going to say the same thing about you!"

(...and then we both laugh nervously because we realize NEITHER of us has it together.)

I'm back.

It's amazing how quickly one can get back in the groove after a long weekend with the girls. I just plunged a toilet and I'm getting ready to fold laundry. Despite these priorities I will post some details about our weekend. Notice the lack of a timeframe for posting? That's 'cause whenever I post an ETA that means I might have to live up to it. And who wants to do that!?

In the meantime, you can busy yourselves reading this insightful post by The Ironic Catholic. Let's just hope PB XVI saw this before his arrival in the U.S. today.

Real Housewives of Branson, Missouri

I'll be outta pocket for the next few days...now the five or so of you behave yourselves while I'm gone.

Yep, the church moms and I are headed to raucous Branson, Missouri for a little kidless R&R for the weekend. For some of us I believe it'll be the first trip away from the kids. For me? Well, Pete's a pro at Mr. Mommying...and the in-laws are ready and waiting.

Ya'll have a good weekend.

Hello, eye doctor.

Watching American Idol tonight (for the usual seven minutes), Mickey announced "that guy looks just like Bob the Builder!"

In case you do not have any kids under 5, here's his point of reference:

...and, according to Mickey, here's the guy who looks just like him:

The comfort food

1. Go to the Stove Top Stuffing site.
2. Click Hearty Meals.
3. Click Easy Chicken Bake.
4. Make it tonight, while it's still a little chilly outside. Save the leftovers (if there are any).
5. Have it tomorrow for lunch and marvel at how it's still as good as when you took it out of the oven.
6. Call me up and offer to pay me a finder's fee. In fact, suggest that I start a million-dollar business scouring the internets for recipe-box-worthy recipes. And figure out a way I can do that with two hours a day of work time. Go ahead...off you go...

Who knew Bransonians were clever?

Searching for a spa/salon for an upcoming girls' trip to Branson, Missouri, I came across this one that might be worth a visit for the name of the business alone:

Curl Up and Dye

A fine example of self-restraint

(A measly 12 posts in March! Pitiful. Okay, well, it's a new month so I'm starting over and I hope getting ready to post more.)

One of the million reasons I have for not posting lately is that I used to write during the boys' naps. Alex still naps regularly but Mickey has managed to throw them out completely. Fine, I said. But you're going to have 30 minutes of quiet time in your room by yourself while Alex is asleep.

That worked for two days.

So now I get to find other ways to get him out of my hair for a few minutes while I take a deep breath and put in a load of laundry.

His favorite way to while away the quiet time has become computer games, specifically a Nick Jr. program called Wubbzy, who is a computer-y character who really serves no purpose but...well, I can't really think of one. Nonetheless, Mickey loves this game. He's actually become good at it but sometimes needs a little help getting unstuck at certain stages.

That's where I come in.

I get to sit down at the computer and rescue Wubbzy and then hand the controls back to him. In a minute. Hang on, honey, I'm almost done. Wait, hold on. Okay. Here you go. Wait. Okay. Just a minute. Okay, here you go. Hang on...

And I turn a five-second help into five minutes.

So I'm blaming my lack of posting, in part, on a preschool video game. What a proud moment.

Tune in tomorrow for my self-intervention regarding this Teletubbies game, which is Alex's addiction. (Try it, I dare you. And let me know when you're ready to join me in a 12-step program.)