Takin' a break. And being annoying.

I won't be posting again until early next week sometime.

Don't worry, this isn't much different than the usual blogging breaks I take.

But this time I'm telling you about it before it happens.

Isn't that nice of me?

How 'bout all these new paragraphs?

It's fun trying to make all my thoughts dramatic.

Fun for me anyway.

Ya'll have your own fun while I'm gone.

And pray we have at least one sunny day.

So I can wear my new sunglasses.

If I'm feeling up to it I'll take a photo of those.

Oh, these paragraphs!! Make it stop!!

OK.

Neighborhood watch(er)

For days I've studied my neighbor's back porch trying to identify what she's hung on two hooks just off her deck. I'd take a picture of it for you, but that would just be creepy. Instead I prefer to grab my binoculars and pray she works during the day.

But mystery solved! Just now I saw a commercial for Topsy Turvy tomato planters. How cool are these things? I have no idea what's inside the green container...dirt possibly? To find out would require research on my part, though, and I wouldn't want to break my streak on this here blog.

If tomatoes do appear on my neighbor's hanging things, maybe I'll just have to get some of these and teach the boys about upside-down tomato plants. And how to stalk neighbors undetected.

Manual labor

I seem to have compiled a list of electronics I need to buy and cannot possibly live another moment without. Me and electronics only cohabitate...we do not ask too much of each other and play nicely, especially if the piece of equipment can accomplish stuff without me having to open the manual. Pete loves the fact that I used to be a tech writer and yet I usually leave manuals in their cellophane wrappings and will the product to work.

1. Digital camera. I watch with awe as Pioneer Woman and Me Ra Koh publish beautiful and emotion-filled photo after photo taken with their digital SLRs. I understand these things have auto features on them making them easier than ever to use, but they also have so many manual features that I'm afraid I'd just stare at this thing unopened in its box for many weeks, fearful of breaking it. Or having to open the manual.

I'm really considering a high-end point-and-shoot. But can I still get that same luscious, buttery background and shoot in low light? And would I have to read the manual to figure out how to do that?

2. Video camera. Pete and I bought a video camera when we met seven (!) years ago, and it is nearly the size of a breadbox. Every time I bring it out for family gatherings I swear I hear snickering. Not to mention there's no easy way to get the videos onto my computer or a DVD.

Not that I would know how to do that since...you guessed it, I've never read its manual.

With my next video camera, I'd like to be able to make easy transfers and get good-quality video and files that aren't huge.

3. IPhone. There are hundreds of uses for an IPhone...not the least of which is IPeriod, an app which...well, click it and find out. How cool is that! It's times like this when I wish I was a workin' mom again and could somehow dream up a business reason for having one of these gems. Can a stay-home mom make a case? Maybe someday...

Although I hear the IPhone comes with a manual, too. Drat.

I call it...April Pictures in D Random

Our choices belong to us

**
This post will seem a little disjointed, but it's because I'm tired, but I've needed to write this for a long time and I don't have much patience for editing.

It's moms whining. I'm whining about moms whining. I'm tired of people talking to moms like we are THE martyrs for our families. Like we are some sort of indentured servants with no choices. Examples are rampant, but in the interest of being not too mean I won't mention them specifically. But maybe you know what I mean: blog posts, daytime talk shows, morning news shows, newspapers and magazines...they are all full of stories about how much women, specifically mothers, sacrifice for their families and don't pay any attention to themselves.

If you listen to mainstream media, moms are always exhausted, overworked, under-appreciated, and we don't wear make-up. We're urged to schedule Me Time and Moms' Nights and Girlfriend Getaways. And we get pats on the back every time we take time or effort for ourselves...like it's nearly impossible to accomplish it.

So what about Dads?? Where's the sympathy for dads who work all day, too? And then come home and get henpecked by their work-all-day wives to chip in and help? Why don't we see articles on a regular basis encouraging hard-working men to take well-deserved golf outings once a week? We don't. Because we women would go nuts on them.

The fact is, women DO make choices. They choose their spouses, they choose whether to have children, and they choose whether to work outside the home or not. Choose, choose, choose...that's all we've done, and been encouraged to do, our whole adult lives.

Then we sit back and whine about how all our choices have made us exhausted and we don't have time for anything. So we say that a lot. "I don't have time..." or "I didn't have time to do that..." But the truth is we DO have time, we have just chosen to fill it with something else. Recently I have made a strong effort to say "I didn't make time for that..." Because that's more truthful for me. You think I "have time" to blog? NO! Most of the time when I sit down at the computer I can think of 47 other things that need to be done. But I take the time because it's important to me...it's my choice.

And another thing: moms aren't the only people who work hard out there. Women without kids can...surprise!...get tired and feel unappreciated, too. It's not a competition to see who has the most stressful life. I just get tired of reading and hearing about how women don't do enough for themselves. If that's true, friends, it's our choice, not our lot in life.

** I wrote this post a few days ago, then hurriedly took it down. I didn't want my haste to cause me to neglect a very important point, and that is I understand our lives are not entirely choices. Everyone has circumstances they've been dealt. My gripe is not with people dealing with their circumstances, it's with people creating circumstances and then spending their lives wailing about them.

Okay...tirade over.

Can someone please tell a joke now?

Wordless Wednesday: All grown up

My nephew stopped by the other night on his way to a prom.

I pulled out my camera because I loved how his pink tie matches the pink brick of our house. And the lighting outdoors was perfect at the time. And darned if that Japanese Maple wasn't looking especially beautiful that day.

It has nothing to do with me wanting to photograph his handsome, all-grown-up face...when I can remember him as a newborn baby like it was yesterday. Nothing to do with the fact that when he and his twin brother graduate, I'm going to be watching my sister's face as much as theirs.

Nope, pulling out my camera to photograph him was strictly based on aesthetics.

Right.

Shoot me now, Droid. Please?

Over the weekend Mickey got his first Star Wars toys (don't you like how I provided an IMDB link? As if there's one person on the planet who doesn't know about this movie and yet reads my blog). I know...the movie is more than 30 years old. And I haven't seen it. I was only 11 when it was first released and my choices in movies then were limited to the one channel we got on our black and white TV.

But even if I don't know the enduring story, I thought I knew the characters until Mickey showed them to me (I did recognize R2D2...I'm not a complete idiot). Anyway, he wanted me to play Star "Hors" with him, to which I absentmindedly said yes. I was hoping he'd forget but I don't know why because he never forgets when I promise him playtime.

So I sat down with my five-inch action figure in front of me, and 14 other tiny pieces of stuff. We twisted our beings into all their little stances and handed them and re-handed them their saber thingies. After 20 minutes of hell on my part and bliss on his part, I announced to Mickey I had a good time and I was done.

Blank stare.

"But we haven't played Star Hors yet!"

"Huh? I thought that's what we were doing."

"No, mom! We have to shoot each other."

"Oh. Why?"

"Because that's what Star Hors does." (I could have sworn he said "duuuuh" after that.)

So he commences to making kachow, pow, peusuuhcvhhh, sounds with his five-inch character whose name I still don't know. And making a weird jerking motion with it at the same time.
I did my best to sound like I was trying to shoot back in the process. My guy did end up losing his head, except he had a helmet looking thing to snap on in its place.

After a couple of minutes of battle and my person/Droid thing died, Mickey seemed satisfied that we'd finally "played Star Hors." Thank goodness.

I wanted to tell him if he wants a battle all he has to do is knock on his brother's door. But for reasons known only to George Lucas, he seems crazy about this movie he's never seen, a story he's never heard, characters whose names he can barely say. And he seemed so excited when we finally sat down together to play.

All I'm saying is next time I get roped into pretending to pretend about Star Wars, I'm having a glass of wine first.

Might make death easier to take.

A brilliant 30 seconds from Saturn...

Ya'll check this one out from Saturn; their ad folks have got it goin' on.

Oklahoma women bloggers...read this!

My friend Melanie over at Blogging Basics 101 is heading up a Tulsa gathering of women bloggers on May 7.

Go here to read all about our local gathering and to sign up if you're a blogger and you live in the area. And a woman, please.

Go here to check out the national effort. Cool, huh!

Wordless Wednesday: Brothers?

Or Night and Day?

You be the judge.

Sometimes I can't believe...

...the weird sentences I'm compelled to say.

Just now:

"Alex! Get your candles and put them in your coffee maker right now!"

Know an expectant parent? Give 'em a break!

I'm posting today over at 918moms.com about how new parents need a break from all us veterans who think we know it all...head on over and check it out.

Crazy for love

My birthday was Saturday. Growing up I used to be so excited when Lent began in February...I knew my birthday was right around the corner. These days I'm not so eager to see another birthday, possibly because I'm losing my ever-loving mind:


The fact that I took Not Diet Coke off the shelf at the grocery store, put Not Diet Coke in my cart, took Not Diet Coke out of my cart and onto the conveyor at the check-out, unpacked Not Diet Coke from the sack at home, cut the plastic thingies off the Not Diet Coke with scissors, placed each Not Diet Coke into the fridge and lined them up in my pseudo-OCD way, and DRANK HALF a Not Diet Coke...

...before I realized it was indeed...

NOT DIET COKE.

So I'm thinking, no more birthdays for me ever.

Then I got this...

...with this perched on top...


...and decided a malfunctioning mind is worth it.

The other man in my life

We're having a thing or two done around the house lately, and this week's project was some landscaping improvements. This will be the third time we've called Terry in to dig in our yard for one reason or another, because this guy is the triple threat of landscapers!

1. Shows up on time.

2. Does amazing work.

3. Sticks to his (very reasonable) estimates.

Apparently, though, my infatuation with him is showing:

Me answering the phone: Hello?

Terry: Hi, Christine. Just wanted to let you know we'll be back today to finish the job.

Me: Okay, thanks! That sod you laid yesterday looks great, honey.

I wonder if there's a hole left in the yard big enough for me to crawl inside...

Wordless Wednesday: Trust

One thing that doesn't freak me out...but should

Ya'll, I've been wracking my brain to come up with ten things that don't freak me out but should. Go ahead, try it. It's not an easy thing. It's like saying "what in my life or my family's life don't I care about, but should?"

Tap, tap, tap...

Hmmm...

Ummmm...

I couldn't think of anything. Does this mean I'm missing something? Am I coasting through my life neglecting something I should be doing (except cleaning my kitchen floor, and I'm getting over that)?

Truth is, I think this little exercise is telling me I have a pretty healthy freaking-out meter. Also, maybe"freaking out" over things in general, even worthy things, isn't a smart thing after all.

Taking care. Showing concern. Giving attention. Maybe those are more accurate than freaking out. And I think I show a good amount of all of those things in my life.

Except one painfully obvious area: my own health. I am definitely not showing enough care, concern or attention in that regard. Every time I tried to think about things around me that were getting neglected, the only thing I could think of was me. And that's no one's fault but my own. Not my kids, not my husband, not my responsibilities (which I have chosen, by the way). Mine and mine alone.

So there's my list of one.

Things that freak me out...but shouldn't

1. When people write "phew" when the better choice is most likely "whew." Here's an example, and another one here. True, "phew" does mean to express relief, but every time I hear it I think of the other definition which is showing a reaction to an unpleasant odor. Check the definitions of both words here and here, and see if you get freaked out like me.

2. Tipping. I griped about this a long time ago but I'm feeling another mention coming on. I don't believe customers should tip on the amount of the bill, but the number of trips the waitperson makes to the table. After all, the same hands bring me a nine-dollar pasta dish as do a 14-dollar steak, and yet I have to pay more for the waitperson to bring me the steak? So I've mentioned that before...my new tipping gripe is seeing tip jars on the counter by the register at SUBWAY! Subway is paying their people but I have to pay them, too? And don't even get me started about the Sonic carhops assuming I don't need that 14 cents so they don't offer it to me as change...

3. When restaurants store their ketchup on tables for 14 hours, but I must return mine to the refrigerator after two hours. If anyone has an explanation for this phenomenon, please let me know. I would really like to stop freaking out about this one.

4. Wire hangers on the floor. Oh, shush! I love my wire hangers and I haven't run through the house screaming with one (yet). It's just when one finds its way to the floor that freaks me out. For me, a wire hanger on the floor is a sign that my entire house is messy.

5. Not having showered after 10:00 a.m. I loathe getting up and taking a shower first thing in the morning, so every once in a while I take advantage of a Saturday and while away an hour or two drinking coffee and doing stuff around the house. Then the freakout begins: I have been known to stop a chore in the very middle of it and announce to Pete that I can no longer stand myself and bound upstairs to the shower. I'm not sure this freakout can ever be tamed.

6. "Regrets only" on an invitation. So let me get this straight: the sender assumes you'll be coming to the event unless you call them and say you can't make it. Presumptuous, I say!! With this "regrets only" stipulation, now the onus is on me to call the person and tell them I'm not coming? Maybe I feel bad enough for missing their shindig, now I gotta face the music and disappoint them? Because they told me to on the invitation? No thanks...any party invite from me is going to have the ol' RSVP and a good old fashioned email address or phone number.

7. Trash in my car. My car is not immaculate at all. But out-and-out trash in it is a freakout waiting to happen.

8. The other day when I waited 20 minutes in the drive-through lane at Walgreen's. And still didn't get my prescription. Because I got mad and drove away. On this one I think no one will blame me for a little freakin' out.

9.The fact that Alex (fully potty-trained) sometimes delays going to the bathroom in the morning...for two hours. He hasn't had an accident during the day in months. And yet it bothers me that he doesn't get straight up out of bed and head to the potty. It's not really a problem unless we're getting ready to leave the house, then I make him go. Then he's the one who does the freaking out. Anyone got a clue on that one?

10. Not blogging for a week. A healthy amount of freaking out is due here, but I'm trying not to let it get out of hand. I hate visiting blogs and seeing the same post for days and I don't want to do that to my readers. Hang in there with me...my breaks are never forever even if they seem like it.

There ya go. I bet I could come up with another ten pretty easily, but now I'm working on a list of things that don't freak me out, but should. I'm afraid that list might be a tad longer...