Friday, April 29, 2011


I had a great blog post almost completely drafted and then it all just disappeared. Since I have about 150 items left on my to-do list today, I guess I'm just going to have to leave you with an apology and let you know that as soon as we have internet in the new house, I'll be posting semi-regularly again. (I had a wireless signal for a couple hours when I was over there yesterday, but I don't know how often that will happen. Anyway, it should only be a week at the most before we get ours hooked up.)

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

There Is No More Easter Bunny (Kind Of)

Mostly when I talk about my kids here, or on Facebook, I talk about Olette.  It makes sense-- I'm home with her all day, so I catch more of her little moments.  Ben is all grown up, almost eight years old and nearly finished with second grade, and so most of his moments happen when I'm not around.  But this conversation with him yesterday was priceless:

Ben: So, did the Easter Bunny really bring sister all that Play-doh?
Me: What do you mean? It was in her basket, wasn't it?
Ben: Well, yeah... but was it really the Easter Bunny?
Me: Well, what do you think?
Ben: I don't think the Easter Bunny is real.
Me: Why is that?
Ben: It just doesn't make sense. A giant bunny putting stuff in baskets?
Me: Well, it's sort of like what Santa does, isn't it?
Ben: No, not really. Santa Claus is real. But I just don't think there can be a such thing as the Easter Bunny.
Me: Why do you say that?
Ben: Because you said we had to go to sleep if we wanted the Easter Bunny to come. But I wasn't asleep, and I looked in the living room and Dad was still up and the baskets were sitting on the coffee table. I think you and Daddy put the stuff in the baskets.
Me: You don't think the Easter Bunny dropped off your baskets while Daddy was still up?
Ben: No. I think it was you.
Me: You're a smart boy!
Ben: So, I'm right? There's not an Easter Bunny?
Me: No, there's not. But since you're old enough to realize that now, there's something you have to promise me.
Ben: What?
Me: That you will not ruin it for you sister!
Ben: I won't.

I knew this day was coming, of course. No kid believes in the Easter Bunny forever. And I'm not sure he's ever quite believed in the Tooth Fairy. And I'm sure in several months, we'll be having a similar conversation about Santa Claus (despite his assertion now that Santa, unlike the Bunny, is real). But it's yet another reminder (and they've been coming a lot more frequently, these days) that he's not a baby anymore, he's a for-real little boy now, and growing taller, smarter, and (I hope) wiser every day.

My little lovlies, all dressed up for Easter

Monday, April 25, 2011


Just to let you know, I've been playing with some of the settings on my blog, changing and customizing things I didn't previously realize could be changed or customized. 

I've changed the comments a little because apparently, I had restrictions on who could comment. Now, anyone can comment. So, yay! Easier access to constructive criticism.  (Or the other kind. But I prefer constructive. It's not like the internet is lacking in places where you can be anonymously mean.)

There are more changes to come, as I continue down the path toward being a totally awesome for-real blogger.  (You know good things are coming when I start my day by Googling "How not to suck at blogging." Because, while excellence is an admirable goal, and certainly something I would like to achieve, I think "not sucking" is a pretty good place to start.)

Friday, April 22, 2011

I Sometimes Wonder Why I Admit To These Sorts Of Things

I am terribly, awfully, horribly mentally deficient when it comes to anything involving numbers*.  Actually, that's not quite true-- I'm pretty good at memorizing strands of numbers, like phone numbers, social security numbers (family members only, don't worry, I'm not going around ripping off identities or anything!), bank account numbers (see last set of parentheses), and that sort of thing.  But doing math-ly things with them?  My skills extend no further than long division.  And even then, they're pretty shaky-- and certainly not something I can do without whipping out a pencil and paper.  Adding numbers in my head?  I try not to unless it's okay if I'm off by a few clicks in either direction.  I can do multiplication in my head-- up to the number 12, and even then only by using the songs we learned in order to memorize them in the 3rd grade.  I should probably be embarrassed by this, but I've learned to own it and embrace it.  It's not necessarily something I tattoo on my forehead or anything, but if someone asks why I'm using a calculator for simple math, I generally reply that even when it comes to the simplest math, I'm pretty much hopeless.

All this to let you know that, every once in awhile, even I am amazed at my own ineptitude sometimes.  For example, I'm making deviled Easter eggs to take to my mom's house for lunch Sunday.  (It's the only time of the year you can serve multicolored eggs without people wondering whether you're trying to give them food poisoning!)  Yesterday we colored 20 eggs.  I was trying to think how many deviled egg halves I would have. I counted each egg by twos.  40 deviled egg halves.  And then the little voice in the back of my head piped up and asked me, "Seriously? You couldn't have just said 'let's see, 20x2=40?'"  And I thought, "Gee, thanks a lot, little voice in the back of my head... where were you before I started counting eggs?"

*I do not say this to cast any sort of aspersions on people who honestly are mentally deficient in any way. Please bear in mind that I am prone to hyperbole (you do know what my blog is called, right?), and am using a poetic license of sorts.

Thursday, April 21, 2011

But At Least There's A Happy Ending

Yesterday wasn't the best of days.  It started out all quiet and unassuming, and with an impression of, "Never mind me, I'm just your average warm, sunny, middle of Spring Break sort of day."  I was lulled into a false sense of security as I dressed the kids, made a few getting-the-house related phone calls (we have to have the house termite bonded before we can close), and made a box of macaroni and cheese for lunch.

And then with one phone call, things started really unraveling.  Hubby was working on 30 pages worth of paperwork that needed to be filed by the end of the day when he came across some interesting news.  (Background story: the guy we were working with at the mortgage place left that office for a job with another company.  He tried to take our file with him, but they wouldn't let him take it.  So we're with the same mortgage company, but working with another person, now.)  Our (locked-in, mind you) interest rate and estimated payments had gone up.  Way up.  Our interest rate, by almost a whole percentage point, and our estimated payments by about $150/month.  Which, with me being STILL unemployed, pushed us right over the top from "it'll be tight but we'll be able to just scrape by until I get a job," to "snowball's chance in hell that we can make this work."  Now, mind you, after over three months of work to get this house, we're a week away from closing day.  Just to be slapped with the decision between sucking it up and walking away.  So Hubby called the guy we were originally working with and asked if he knew what was up with all the changes since he left.  Since he's not our mortgage guy anymore, obviously there wasn't anything he could do about it, but he did confirm that those numbers were nowhere close to the numbers we were supposed to have.  So Hubby called the mortgage place and explained that either we needed to go back to the numbers we were supposed to have, or, painful and disappointing as it might be, we were going to have to walk away.  Suddenly, the mortgage place "realized" that they "must have given him the wrong paperwork."  (This is an understandable mistake, really.  I mean, Hubby's name is fairly common, so it's not too awful much of a stretch to believe that someone with his exact same name, social security number, etc., is buying a house at the exact same address as we are, just at a higher interest rate and with an estimated higher monthly payment... I mean, those things happen, right?)

So Hubby had to drive over to the mortgage place and sign all new paperwork.  Happy Ending: Our interest rate is back down to the rate that the other guy locked in for us.  Our payments are still a little bit higher than the first estimation, but thankfully, they're back down in the "it'll be tight but we'll be able to just scrape by until I get a job" range.  (We'll probably just have to cancel the internet/reduce the monthly minutes on our cell phones to make up the difference.)

So, the day started off wonderfully, took an awful, dangerous nose-dive in the middle, and leveled out a bit at the end.  I'll be glad when everything is finished-- the closing, the moving, and the job-hunting.  It will be nice to heave a great sigh of relief!

Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Selling Out. Like, Literally.

Since I still don't have a job, it looks like I am going to have to get seriously serious about making money by writing.  Because, apparently, it's the only marketable skill I have.  Unfortunately, no one is hiring for it right now.  (Not without a degree, anyway.)  So I am in the process of monetizing my blog.  I'm selling out.  Literally.

However, there's catch when it comes to monetizing my blog-- I get paid when you click.  (So, no pressure, or anything...)  Once I have ads up, please, please, please click on the ones you find interesting.  Or slightly interesting.  Or not repulsive, at the very least.

Lately, I've been doing a lot of research on blogging (and how to not suck at it)... hopefully soon you will all get to see the fruits of my research labor!

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

E - I - E - I - O

Look, just bear with me here, ok?  Because as I was drafting this post in my head, I noticed it sort of sounded like I was singing a strange new version of "Old MacDonald." And, honestly, I just don't think I'm strong enough to resist typing it that way. So:

One of my favorite authors has a blog (E - I - E - I - O), and on this blog she often conducts three-question interviews with other writers (E - I - E - I - O). (With a question here, and a question there... here a question, there a question, everywhere a question, question... Ok, maybe that's taking it a little too far?) She also then provides an opportunity to win a book by that author. 

Right now, you can win The Provence Cure for the Brokenhearted by Bridget Asher. I recommend heading over to Joshilyn Jackson's blog right now, to get the scoop.

(You have until midnight EST on Friday to enter.)

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Various Scenes From A Perfect Afternoon

Just a few pictures for you, today. It was Olette's first time in the boat today, and it didn't take long to get her hooked! We went out on Perdido River and rode almost all the way to the bay. It was a short ride, and we can't wait to get out there again!

An afternoon on the river with a brand new Barbie life jacket-- can life get any better?

Cheetos are our traditional boat-riding snack. Here, Ben and Olette are trying to wash the Cheeto powder off of their fingers!

Beautiful, right? I honestly cannot imagine living anywhere else in the world...

...God saved the best parts of His creation for Alabama!

Friday, April 8, 2011

Meme Meme Meme Meeeeeeme (Sung like an opera person warming up their vocal chords)

I need to figure out how to add sound effects to my blog titles, I think.  Actually, I need to figure out a way to add sound effects to my writing in general.  I like to write the way I speak, and I'm a big fan of using sound effects to complement whatever it is I have to say.  Also, I find it interesting that spell-check is taking issue with "Meme" (all three times), but seems to be perfectly okay with "Meeeeeeme."  Well, it was in the title box, anyway.  Now that I'm down here in the text box, it no longer likes it.  I even made sure I used the exact same number of e's.  Not that you can see any of that, now.  Once I click on "Publish Post," those squiggly red lines will disappear and you'll have no way of knowing whether what I am saying now is true or not.  I promise you, it is.  Seriously, who would lie about something like that?  Especially since I'm in the process of making this a "for real" blog that people will be clamoring to read.  I need you to trust me.  So, when I say there are squiggly lines, rest assured, there are most definitely squiggly lines.  (In hindsight, I probably should have held off on blogging until I was no longer regularly taking cold medicine.)

I've been doing a lot of brainstorming on ways to make my blog awesome.  One of those would definitely be a redesign to make it personalized.  Only I am so very awful at figuring out how to do computer-y things like that.  I've also been trying to think of awesome weekly features to feature, but I'm coming up just a little bit short.  I was hoping to have something different every day, but (probably thanks to the cold medicine) I just haven't come up with any good ideas.  I decided to check with the great and mighty Google to see if it could introduce me to any internet-wide weekly blog memes, but a lot of them were kind of lame.  So, still no progress there, either.

Does anyone know of any super-awesome weekly blog memes that they totally think I should be joining in on?  Or should I continue to brainstorm and see if I can't come up with some truly awesome memes of my own?

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Can't Get Enough Of Your Love, Baby

Two days ago, I woke up with the sniffles and a scratchy throat.  Yesterday, I woke up with the sniffles, a scratchy throat, and swollen glands.  This morning, I woke up with the sniffles, a scratchy throat, swollen glands, and a hacking cough.  Oh, and I sound like Barry White when I talk.  (Hence, today's post title.)  Those of you who have heard me talk in real life know what a huge departure from normal that is.

But, despite feeling a little bit like a freight train just slammed into me, I'm taking this as a sign of good things to come.  I just had a job interview yesterday and I should hear something by Friday.  And the way my luck goes?  I would definitely finally get a job when I'm sick and can't think of anything besides going to bed and sleeping for a month!