1. Dork :: a lesser Geek
2. Refurbished :: old stuff made new, yet again
3. Basket :: case
4. Mousse :: dessert
5. Studio :: 54
6. 8 ball :: Magic!
7. Masking tape :: effective (temporary)toddler muzzle 
8. Love :: not war…
9. Wilder :: Laura Ingalls
10. Lindsey :: Lohan - BLECH!  she’s everywhere…why is that?

Get your own list at Unconcious Mutterings.

..why I do not take all three girls with me to do even the smallest amount of shopping.  I mistakenly decided to give them one. more. chance. this evening.  At the end of a long school day. They were tired and hungry. I was tired and hungry. Why did I do such a ‘normal’ tasks with three circus monkeys in tow?  I am asking myself that very same question, as I sip my second Chimay and listen to the girls, upstairs, fighting off sleep.  Now that I have reentered the work force and they are all in school, I have less time with the girls that I once spent every waking moment with.  Nine years I stayed at home, answering thier every call.  On the one hand, I am glad to have something to call my own.  When I am meeting clients for the first time, they do not know me as ‘Halie/Catie/Rosie’s mom’ or ‘DH’s wife’.  I am simply ‘Erin’, there to massage their tired, sore or injured muscles.  I cherish the opportunity as much as I miss being available to volunterr in thier classrooms and discuss thier school days.  After a full day away from each other, my daughters seem to seek out opportunities to drive each other to the brink of meltdown… WHY?  Within five minutes of picking them up from After-School Care (thank you Mom) and sharing with them my plan to head to Sprouts to pick up fruit and vegetables and Daddy’s favorite chicken-kabobs to grill for our dinner - they were shrieking in the back seat.  Grrrrrr.  So before we even got to the store, I was growling between my gritted teeth for them to ‘cool it’.  What did you say? Oh.  No, growling at the girls was in no way an effective deterrent and no, it did not make me feel better.  On a loooooong day like today, my best parenting rapidly takes a back seat to utter frustration.  I know that not many of my fellow parents would care to share similar stories, but for goodness’ sake, please tell me how you turn the day around!  I do not like being upset with my daughters as I regrettably send them to bed thirty minutes early, just because I fear saying the wrong things to them out of weariness…

Even now, 45 minutes after their bedtime, I can hear them upstairs still bickering, fighting the sleep that I know thier little bodies would welcome if they would just. be. quiet.

Tonight, I will follow the routine I have religiously repeated for the last eight-plus years: When they are finally asleep, I will go to check on each in her respective bedroom.  Only then, when I listen to their deep and relaxed breathing, will I step out into the hallway and breathe a heavy sigh of relief.  Everyday that the girls and I survive reminds me that I did not have to dial 9-1-1 even once. I don’t know how we managed to make it through in one piece, but I am going to repeat it all tomorrow, for certain!

As is routine on Sunday mornings, I am awakened at least three times by our daughters: each requesting a ’snuggle’ in our bed.  I love it.  This morning, our daughters were in a particularly goofy mood: pretending to be babies, then puppies and finally circus monkeys ( those of you who know me also know that I refer to the girls as ‘Circus Monkeys’ often, and with much adoration).  After a while, DH and I felt like we’d had enough sillyness, so we asked the girls to leave.  I applaud thier responses: instead of “No” they pointed out the advantages to allowing them to stay.  Among the offerings: back rubs, singing us a romantic lullaby, even promising not to make a sound.  Yeah, right!  As our daughters continued further protest, I reminded my husband of our stash of repellant Monkey Spray in the garage. He agreed and then headed to the garage to retrieve the spray bottle of water that we use, on ocassion, when the grill flares up. 

My husband gave our daughters one more chance to retreat, but they stood their Tempurpedic ‘ground’.  The girls got doused with water and made a hasty retreat, screaming all the way, with thier dad on their heels.  DH and I had sore sides from laughing so hard! We congratulated each other on our superior parenting creativity, then laughed at how silly we are in reality! The girls returned in a few minutes, toweling themselves off urging me to blog about the adventure.  Here it is!

1. Uneven :: ragged
2. Wonder :: Woman (ka-CHING - ka-CHING)
3. Spider :: a stunt on the swingset at the park
4. Emma :: Sometimes
5. Swing :: it’s called ‘The Lifestyle’ now.
6. Orbit :: discount travel
7. Flirt :: subtle sexual references
8. Donation :: contribution
9. Veil :: disguise
10. Atmosphere :: Space. 

There’s a new one every week over at Unconscious Mutterings: subliminallunanina.com

Yes, I know it’s Texas.  Yes, I’ve lived here all but the first four years of my life (yep, Chicago-born).  I might not have been born here, but I got here just as fast as I could. I consider accumulations of snow to be a more novel experience than the occasional meteor shower.

That said, this year has been unseasonably cool in the DFW area.  We didn’t even reach the 100 degree mark until this month.  For days on end since the first of August, we’ve enjoyed stifling 100+ degree days.  I joined my daughters on a walk around the cul-de-sac this morning.  About 20 minutes worth of leisurely walking, then retreated to the cool A/C inside our house - soaked with sweat.  Another shower for me!  During that shower, I wrote the chorus to Weird Al’s    future parody of Justin Timberlake’s ‘Sexy Back’:  “I’m bringing sweaty back.” 

Rosie turns 4!    It was four years ago today, at 8:04AM that I heard your first cries.  I shed a few tears myself, not from joy or sadness, but from sheer relief that you were okay.  You are the best part of the miracle that took place in my life (our lives) four years ago.  I love you, my precious Trinity Rose.

1. Traditional :: conservative 
2. Popeye :: Olive Oil
3. Gin :: Juice
4. Harsh :: cruel
5. Topless :: where’s MY invitation?
6. The thing :: over there, on your left…
7. Defiant :: redheaded spirit
8. Huge :: XXXL
9. Food :: Drink
10. Lenny :: Squiggy

Unconscious Mutterings

I was tagged by Silly Old Bear today, so you might say this is an obligatory post…

All right, here are the rules.

1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.
2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.
3. People who are tagged need to write on their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.
4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.
5. Don’t forget to leave them a comment on their blog telling them they’re tagged, and you read their blog.

**Please be warned, some of the information would be classified as TMI. **

That said, here we go:

1. My huband is my first lover.  He will be my last lover. *ahem*

2. I did not intend to give birth to any children, only adopt. (you’ve heard I have given birth to three little girls, right?)

3. I have sex toys hidden on a high shelf in my closet. (I hide them from the girls, not my DH)

4. On occasion, I have to re-wash laundry that sat for too long in the washer…

5. I have never given anyone (including my DH) a ‘happy ending’ after a massage

6.  My clothing is arranged in rainbow colors in my walk-in closet (RoyG.Biv)

7. My personal motto: Never put off until tomorrow what you can put off until the day after tomorrow!

8. I am the only person in my house who knows how to load a dishwasher correctly.

Now I’m need to decide who I want to  hate me the most know more about:

1. Blue Sloth

2. Latte Man

3. DaPoppins

4. Sugar Mommy

5. Spilt Milk

6. Motherhood Project

7. Zhook

8. PixieMom

1. Deputy :: Sheriff, Bob Marley
2. Name :: Title
3. Arrested :: Development
4. Trade :: Barter (with massage!)
5. Old :: Silly Bear…
6. Fingerprint :: Individuality
7. Dwarf :: Sleepy, Happy, Dumpy, Gropey, Sleazy, Mashmouth, Jock…
8. Newspaper :: print
9. Gabriel :: Peter
10. Certificate :: License

From Unconscious Mutterings.

I am hereby officially tendering my resignation as an adult. I have decided I would like to accept the responsibilities of an 8 year-old again.

I want to go to McDonald’s and think that it’s a four star restaurant.

I want to sail leaves across a fresh mud puddle and make a sidewalk with rocks.

I want to think M&Ms are better than money because you can eat them.

I want to lie under a big oak tree and run a lemonade stand with my sister on a hot summer’s day.

I want to return to a time when life was simple, when all you knew were colors, multiplication tables, and nursery rhymes; but that didn’t bother you because you didn’t know what you didn’t know and you didn’t care. All you knew was to be happy because you were blissfully unaware of all the things that should make you worried or upset.

I want to think the world is fair; that everyone is honest and good. I want to believe that anything is possible.

I want to be oblivious to the complexities of life and be overly excited by the little things again.

I want to live simply again.

I don’t want my day to consist of computer crashes, mountains of paperwork, depressing news, how to survive more days in the month than there is money in the bank, doctor bills, gossip, illness, and loss of loved ones.

I want to believe in the power of smiles, hugs, kind words, truth, justice, peace, dreams, the imagination, mankind, and making angels in the snow.

So, here’s my checkbook and my car-keys, my credit card bills and my 401K statements.

I am officially resigning from adulthood. And if you want to discuss this further, you’ll have to catch me first, cause. . .

“Tag! You’re it.”