A Letter to Owen

Dear Owen,

I know waking up in this place is confusing, and scary. I know that having a tube jammed in your mouth, one in your nose, one in your back, two in your side, and one in your nether regions is uncomfortable - to say the least. I know you would rather be at home, putting little toy cars in the kitchen drawers or fighting with Lainey over the toy cell phone. I know you hate those doctors in white coats. I know that you hurt, I see your pain.

But I also know how tough you are, and what a strong spirit you possess. I know that when you squeeze my hand, you are telling me that you are ok. I know that someday before too long you will be playing outside, scraping your knees, and kicking around a soccer ball like every other little adventurous boy does. I know that you have the will to fight through this.

I know that you have one or two angels watching over you right now, and many many many others here on Earth thinking about you daily. I know you cannot comprehend that, and the truth is that it overwhelms me too. But I know with the amount of love and support surrounding you, you can overcome anything.

I want YOU to know that your mommy and daddy love you, very very much. I want YOU to know that we chose to put you through this in order to better your life. I want YOU to know that it's ok to be scared, and it's ok to cry. But I want YOU to know that you will never ever be alone in this, and that we will deal with whatever comes our way.

With love, always,
Mommy

Spam

We all get spam mail. If you're one of the lucky, you may only get 34238 a day. But have you ever taken the time to really read the subject lines of these? Some can really have some entertainment value - especially if you are bored and the next closest option is watching a rerun of "This Old House". Here are a few I've selected from my spam folder this week:

"Anne Hathaway lose weight Free Sample - Ivanka Trump Has A Baby Bump"
(Common Goddess Cram Random Things In Headline, No One Cares)

"__T_A_R_A__ - I KNOW YOUR FUTURE FROM:3/26/2011 and BEYOND!"
(Thank GOODNESS you are here Tara, but I can't help but wonder why you don't know my future in the next two days? Is there a great ESP blackout that I need to be aware of?)

"!!CONGRATULATIONS!! - Someone sent you the new iPad 2"
(Woot! That was very nice of someone!)

"News 1 Daily - We found work at home Opportunities that may shock you!"
(Let me guess - snake charmers? Baked goods tester? If it's selling ceramic unicorns online I'll be very disappointed....)

"Online Income - Make $9K a week with this easy system"
(Easy = Costs a lot of money out of pocket.)

"Smoke Shack - tell us what you smoke"
(I can't think of a worse name for something than Smoke Shack. Except maybe Dress Barn.)

"IT REALLY WORKS - Summer's coming - Safely lose 20-25 pounds in 1 month!"
(I'm not sure that "safely" and "lose 20-25lbs in 1 month" should really be together in the same sentence.)

"ZOLOFT ATTORNEY - Attachments Zoloft Settlements"
(I hate when those pesky names get in the way - apparently, Abe Whiffledorf felt the same way and decided to just go with "Zoloft Attorney" instead. Also, he may want to be more cautious on who he's sending these settlement checks out to.)

"Ready - What are you waiting for?"
(A Redbox flick and a mojito.)

"heidi - lets do this tonight"
(I'm intrigued, Heidi. Are we busting out of prison? Ordering falafels? TPing the crabby old teachers house down the street? I really need more details before I change out of my PJs.)

"Sample enlargement - Porn stars secret"
(PSSST - Ok, don't tell anyone, but I have their REAL secret. You ready? *Show up, get naked*. But don't tell anyone you heard it from me, ok?)

"MyFavoriteFoods - What is the KFC Double Down?"
(I'm going to go with "a rapid cholesterol delivery system".)

"Large Pizza - Free Large Specialty Pizza Voucher: 3/20/2011"
(NOW we're talking!)

"ashley - dont wait another day"
(Great advice! Unless you mean to vacuum, in which case...meh. I think I will.)

"Incentive - Do you think Charlie Sheen is crazy? Tiger Blood!!!"
(WINNING! Wait - what's my incentive?)

"Sarah691 - Saw your pic. I think you dated my girlfriend."
(I pretty much doubt that, Sarah. But so what if I did? Let it go, man, let it go.)

"CSI Programs - CSI and Forensics employment is available"
(It just so happens that I am a die-hard Law & Order: SVU fan, so I'm practically qualified. I assume that's why I was chosen for such employment, thank goodness for their rigorous background check.)

Well That Was Awkward...

Tonight was the eagerly anticipated pizza night in our house, so having to make a pit stop on the way home was already putting a cramp in my evening. I left work and hurried to Walgreens to pick up a couple necessities. Thankfully, there is one on almost literally every corner. This particular Walgreens was pretty hoppin' for a Friday night, and I weaved in and out of people to get back to the first aid section. You see, my son's feeding tube had become dislodged last night and I needed to get it back in place. And to get it back in place, I needed to lubricate it. I needed....a lubricant.

Oh. Right. I'm in the wrong section.

I sheepishly made my way to the "correct" section, where I tried to scan the shelves nonchalantly - all the while imagining I was somewhere more enjoyable, like at the dentist. I spotted what I needed, a generic box of lubricating jelly, and stuffed it under my armpit before anyone could point and laugh at me. As much as I wanted to, I suppose it's a little awkward to offer up an explanation to the woman at the counter, so my Plan B was to avoid eye contact and fidget uncomfortably.

Armed with my Plan, I head to the register when I suddenly remembered the second item I needed to purchase. I made a quick side-step over to the makeup, grabbed my favorite eyeliner that I was nearly out of, and scored a place in the checkout line. As I stood surveying the candy and lip balm, I looked down at my hands and horror washed over me when I realized what I was holding.

Lubricant and eye liner.

I suddenly felt like every set of eyes in the entire store were staring at me, wondering which street corner I was going to be working at this lovely Friday evening. After turning an unnatural shade of red, I politely dismissed myself from line and returned my items to their shelves so fast you would have thought they were made of searing hot lava.

And then I went home, emptyhanded, and had some pizza.

(As it turns out, water is all I really needed to lubricate an NG tube. THAT sure would have been a useful bit of info...)

Awesome - Party of Two

There are some things in this world that just cannot function alone. I mean really, what is peanut butter without jelly? Bill Clinton without Hillary? The Oscars without bad wardrobe selections?

And then there are those things that are nothing short of awesome all by themselves - dogs, E-Trade commercials, Donald Trump's hair.

But what happens if you take two little pieces of awesome and combine them together? Prepare to have your mind blown:
OREO STUFFED CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES.

You read that right. Despite the fact that I literally gained 6.4 pounds just looking at that picture I still have the desire to put my kitchen ineptness aside and make an attempt at recreating these little bits of heaven. I figure - even if I screw up the recipe, in the end it's still cookie dough and Oreos. How could I possibly loose?

You know you want some.

Three-Year-Old Humor

It's been a while since I shared some of my 3-year-old daughter's one-liners. Man, this kid is hilarious. Enjoy!

"Oh look! It's just a little poop. I think he's swimming in there! Have fun little fella!"

Lainey: "Mommy, I want to go to the zoo."
Me: "We can't go to the zoo honey, the animals don't come out when there is snow on the ground."
Lainey (after a long pause): "But polar bears like the snow."

"Did you know that 'gracias' means hungry in Chinese?"

Lainey: "Cats have tails."
Me: "Do kids have tails?"
Lainey: "No mom, kids have butts."

"We have to be very very quiet so that we don't wake up the clowns."

"My favorite color is orange and purple. And blue. And red. And this submarine! WEEEE!"

(as she is sitting on the potty) "Ahhhh, this is the life."

(as she is sitting on the potty yet again...seems like she comes up with her best material on the John) "Stay calm mommy, it's just poop."

Speaking of Halftime Shows...

....The Black Eyed Peas? Really?

A) Even if Fergie really could sing - which, given the performance I saw tonight, would be like Steve Buscemi winning a beauty contest - that still wouldn't excuse her outfit. She looked like a robot prostitute from the year 2145.

B) I hope no one watching this had any sort of seizure disorder. The possibility of a wardrobe malfunction was pretty obvious, only this time it would involve electrocution. Luckily, no Peas nor any of their bizarre LightBrite dancers were harmed in the making of this halftime show.

Music aside, the Superbowl commercials still carried their usual amount of entertainment value. My daughter insisted on playing "doctor" and shoving a fake thermometer in my mouth during about half of them, but out of the ones I did see the Best Buy ad was a clear winner. "What's a Bieber?" "I don't know - it kind of looks like a girl." Who knew that a simple commercial could sum up my own feelings so completely? However, Betty White still reigns surpreme in my Unofficial Superbowl Commercial Hall of Fame.

Oh, and also there was some football that was played and someone won and all that, too.

Patience Is a Virtue

Have I ever mentioned that patience is NOT one of my virtues?

Approximately 2.63 light years ago (ok, it *may* have only been 17 days...) we submitted my son's complete medical history - all 124893 pages of it - to a doctor in Chicago. But he isn't just ANY doctor, he is THE doctor. A pediatric cardio-thoracic surgeon that has not only performed operations on patients like Owen, but has gone on to write articles about it. And even though these articles were written in a medical foreign language that required me to Google every other word, in the end we determined that if anyone was going to give us an answer as to whether or not Owen will need this surgery it will be this guy.

But it has been over two weeks and my sanity is running thin. My cell phone has been glued to me, afraid that the mere act of using the bathroom might find me in the middle of wiping when *the* call came in. Toilet flushing in the background = awkward first impression. Numerous times daily I imagine that I hear Men At Work singing "Who Can It Be Now?" - frightening enough by itself - but considering that this is the ring tone on my phone it has become downright haunting. I get a little reprieve on the weekends, because everyone KNOWS that specialists don't work Saturdays or Sundays (or even numbered days...or anytime after 2pm...).

I am a stubborn and impatient redhead, I will not deny that. But when you are waiting for a call that could possibly change the course of your child's life, every moment feels even longer and more agonizing than this year's Superbowl Halftime Show. No matter what the answer is, I just want a call. Just one little call. I'd even settle for a robotic message that simply says "yes" or "no".

Patience is a virtue? Clearly whoever coined that phrase has not dealt with a specialist...

Special of the Day

Being the almost-three-year-old that she is, Lainey's tastes are ever changing. Her passion for shoving things into her toolbox and/or purse remains the same, however a new fondness for dinosaurs has emerged in the last few months. Much to the dismay of Johnny.

Johnny has spent a lot of time recently at the bottom of one of those aforementioned purses, disregarded in favor of a Spinosaurus who, apparently, enjoys salads. But today, Johnny took a stand. He offered himself up as a "Special of Day" in hopes of being reunited with his best friend Lainey.


Judging by the fact that he was still laying there after I returned home from work, I'd say that the "Special" was not well-received. It's a sad, sad day for poor Johnny. Keep smiling, buddy, don't lose hope yet...

For Your Viewing Pleasure...

Did a little reorganization of my computer and found a couple oldies but goodies for your viewing pleasure. First one is some spectacular dance moves, the second is Owen VS. Brobee. Enjoy!

Worst. Prize. Ever.

Last Saturday was my husband's company's (belated) Christmas party, and they held it at a bowling alley. To most people, that would probably be lame, but for me - it was nothing short of awesome. I am pretty much terrible at bowling, but I find it oddly entertaining to try, not to mention that they turned on the blacklights so the laces on my stylish blue-and-red bowling shoes glowed. How is that not great? Plus there was free food.

About halfway through the night, someone got up on the microphone and starting giving away prizes. The catch was that they just called your name, and you had to go up and get a box wrapped up in Christmas paper so that you didn't really know what it was that you won. They called my husband's name while I was standing in line for my watered-down soda and he came back with a box that looked like it could fit a small child inside. Naturally, I got really excited - big boxes mean great prizes, right?

I held my breath as he tore open the paper to find...a....a.....

Turkey fryer.

Now I don't want to come off as ungrateful, it really was nice to win something. But somewhere the cooking Gods are having quite a laugh over this. I'm sure it's a wonderful piece of equipment, and in the right hands I'm sure it can fry a mean turkey. But I can't possibly think of a worse couple of people to own such a thing - except maybe vegans.

On the positive side, I scored an unprecendented 158 in bowling and I didn't even spill anything on myself this time.

Avon Calling

Yesterday we made a scheduled trip up to the University of Iowa Children's Hospital for another exciting round of barium swallows and waiting room boredom. I spent the good majority of the day moving from one uncomfortable leather chair to another, trying to secure the best possible people-watching seat that I could. You see, Owen's first appointment ended at 10:30, and his second was not until 1:00 (which really means 3:45 in "doctor time"), so we certainly had some time to kill.

I knew that the boy needed a nap, and the last thing I wanted was for him to conk out just as the doctor comes in the room to poke and prod him. So I settled into a torn double-seater in the lobby just outside the cafeteria - prime viewing, I figured - and got him comfortable enough to doze off. Then I took inventory of my surroundings.

Across from me sat an older man, perhaps in his late 60's, reading a magazine. His attire consisted of loafers, a plaid shirt, and giant red suspenders that had to be at least 3" thick with the word "COCKHUTT" written lengthwise down them. Feel free to make your own judgements.

Next to me was some guy in scrubs who looked like he was about 12 years old reading a book that had close to 2100 pages in it. And either he received a page or he had to go pee really bad, because all of a sudden Doogie Howser shot up out of the chair and took off at warp speed down the hallway.

And then, diagonal from me, were two women. One of them had one of those voices that was just loud enough to be heard, but not understood, with just enough of the Fran Drescher nasal tone to make you want to shoot yourself. She was a bigger woman who seemed to put her entire upper body into this conversation. The second woman just sat next to her, silent, perhaps too scared to move lest she get pummeled by her friend's tree branch-like arm. They seemed like an odd pairing, and from the bits and pieces I could make out such as "online" and "invoices" I decided that they were conducting some sort of business right here in the hospital cafeteria lobby.

I was going to guess drugs or hoagie sandwiches when all of a sudden, the loud one got up and gathered up some papers, signaling the end of their partnership. And just when I thought I had to find someone new to focus on, this woman comes barreling towards me like a herd of rhinoceroses.

Before I could say a word, she plopped down on the seat beside me and said "Have you ever tried Avon's Lotus Shield Shampoo?"

OH NO! It's...it's....an AVON LADY.

And here I was, trapped, sleeping baby in my arms. Well played, Avon Lady, well played. She rambled on for a moment about some Avon product and how it was made out of the teardrops of unicorns or some other such nonsense before asking me if I had ever tried Avon products before. Thankfully, despite the mind-numbing boredom that had consumed me in the lobby, I managed to reply that not only did I use Avon, but one of my best friends was an Avon rep.

I smirked internally, thinking surely that was enough to chase away this lady and to finish out my people-watching in peace.

"So what are you guys here for?"

OH NO! It's...it's....SMALL TALK WITH AN AVON LADY.

Could this get any worse? I couldn't believe that this woman had the gall to try and sell me shampoo in a hospital waiting area, let alone pry into our personal health status. Part of me wanted to tell her that I had a contagious skin rash and then ask to shake her hand. I still had 45 minutes left to kill and I really didn't want to give up my great people-watching spot, can you blame a girl?

But just as I decided to give her the bare minimum of information, her Avon-sense must have triggered an alarm that there was another woman nearby unattended that she could attempt to sell product too and she quickly dismissed herself.

And I breathed a huge sigh of relief, as well as a tiny curse word under my breath. I honestly can't think of a more inappropriate place to try and sell makeup aside from maybe your own grandmother's funeral. What was that woman thinking?

Project 365

In my endless pursuit of things that will eat up all my time and eventually dwindle into oblivion, I have decided that slacking on one blog wasn't enough for me: I have created another one. But this one is different. Instead of listening to me ramble, I am going to let my pictures do the talking. Join me on my photo journey, won't you?

Common Goddess 365

'Twas the Night Before Christmas...

I would like you to enjoy this stunning rendetion of "'Twas the Night Before Christmas" as told by my two-year-old daughter:

"'Twas the night before Christmas and all over the house, creatures were stirring - even a pigeon! And the pigeon was stirring in the kitchen. Then I saw a T-Rex and he said 'RAAAAAAAWR!' and then we went to the library. Santa came down the chimney and said 'Ho Ho Ho' and brought presents to the good girls and the pigeon and the T-Rex."
And with that, Johnny, the Mouse-ephant ornament and I would like to wish you a very merry Christmas! May you and your own pigeons have a safe one.

Watch out for those dinosaurs...

Christmas Gift Guide

The holiday season has once again descended upon us and, like every year before this, there are a few people on my list who are nearly impossible to buy for. Typically, I bide my time, intending to make the most amazing homemade gift that anyone has ever laid eyes on. And then, when Christmas Eve rolls around and I have nothing to show for it, I make a run to Walmart and find the "As Seen on TV" section instead. But this year, I was determined to get my materialism...ahem, I mean Christmas shopping...finished up early. And in my quest to find the perfect gift, I found some other ones that most definitely deserve an honorable mention. So without further ado, I bring you the Common Goddess Gift Guide 2010:

Jesus Toaster - Where do I even begin? This would be so much better if they didn't put that picture of Jesus on the outside of the toaster so that the burnt "design" was a surprise. How much fun would THAT be to serve to Aunt Matilda during your family Christmas brunch?

Backwards Clock - This would be a great choice for that person on your list who can never make it anywhere on time. Oh wait, I guess those people would need a REAL clock. Ok, this would be a great choice for those of you out there who enjoy waking up in the morning confused and stressed out. Note: This would not be a good gift choice if that person happens to be a schizophrenic.

Squirrel Feet Earrings - It is SO hard to find a pair of earrings to go with my squirrel skin coat. Thank goodness for Etsy!

Pride and Prejudice and Zombies - Have you ever thought back to those classic books you've read and say "That was good...but it sure could have used some more zombies..."? Then you are in luck!

Road Kill Toys - Anyone who has children knows how hard it is to curb their temptation to scrape dead animals off of the road. Here is a way to indulge their morbid curiosity without getting maggots all over your carpet.

Bacon Soap - Does your husband or boyfriend hate to bathe for fear that they might wash away that heavenly bacon aroma that clung to them during their breakfast run to Hardee's? Let them lather up with this bacon-scented soap and you both can savor that down-home smell 24/7. And after a long day and a hot bacon-scented shower, you can all sit down as a family and navigate Weiner Wasteland as you play Mr. Bacon's Big Adventure.

Fetus Cookie Cutter - Who doesn't love eating fetuses? You can bake them up in any flavor for that soon-to-be mom on your Christmas list.

Rear Gear - There is nothing worse than an adorable puppy with an unsightly rear. So for the pet lover, I recommend these holiday butt covers. Because really, if you don't want someone to notice something the very BEST thing you can do is to slap a giant pink flower sticker over top if it.

My Apologies

To my small handful of readers;

You have my deepest apologies. I have been unable to muster any time, nor any wit, to devote to this blog. I have tried - Oh Lord have I tried - and the writing that came out had all the humor and excitement of Al Gore at a funeral procession. And I like you all too much to subject you to something so horrific.

But to summarize our life right now in a few lines:

** My daughter learned, thanks to a show even MORE boring than an Al Gore speech called "Dino Dan", what a Quetzocoatlus was. I'll give you a hint: It's a dinosaur. This show has become her new best friend, and heaven help anyone who try to change the channel mid-show. She also tried to tell me that there was a Longneckasaurus in our dining room, complete with sound effects. I have to admit, it was pretty convincing....

** I have determined that at the end of my son's medical journey, whenever that may be, I am going to promptly apply to be on the TV show "Mystery Diagnosis". It is quite possible that they may have to devote the entire hour to his case alone, since now the docs are performing tests just to rule out things that are just as statistically likely as Owen being struck by lightening while simultaneously winning the lottery. Oh, and he also decided to stop sleeping through the night in favor of thrashing, crying, and performing flying 2am headbutts against me and the wall.

** I made something today, IN THE KITCHEN. Sure, it only involved some cinnamon and Elmer's glue, and sure, the ornaments we made won't be for human consumption. But I MADE IT. Using real kitchen utensils.

** It's freaking cold here.

Ok, those were pretty boring highlights. But I swear, it's like my time just evaporates into thin air. One minute I'm getting breakfast ready and the next minute I'm reading "I Love You Stinky Face" just before tucking the kids in to bed and I have no recollection of the hours that passed inbetween.

Bear with me. If I can carve out an hour of time, I have quite a spectacular list of Christmas gifts for that hard-to-shop-for person in your life. I'd hold off on that jellyfish aquarium you've been contemplating, some of these products are nothing short of amazing.

Until then,
Common Goddess

One Year

A year ago last week I was sitting down at the Thanksgiving Day table, ready to shamelessly stuff my 10-months-pregnant face full of turkey, potatoes, and anything else that came within a few inches of my dinner plate. I knew, given the (hormonal) state I was in, that no one would dare question it or look down upon me for it. After all, I was eating for two, right? Besides, the very next day I was scheduled to have our second child surgically removed from me. That meant chicken broth and crackers, if I was lucky, so it only made sense that I needed to stockpile some Thanksgiving dinner in my gut to prepare myself for the long weekend.

And then Black Friday came - but instead of out shopping for $50 big screen TVs, I was settling into a hospital room, anxiously waiting to meet the son who would someday be begging for everything in that 2198281 page Toys 'R Us ad. He was unusually quiet that morning, zonked out on turkey no doubt, unaware that he was about to be unceremoniously removed from his warm cozy home. And at 9:40am on November 27th, 2009, out came Owen - all 10lbs, 3oz of him.


And now here we are, one year later. That fateful Friday seems almost a zillion light years ago, and yet - prepare yourself for a lame cliche - like it was just yesterday. I can hardly begin to describe what a roller coaster ride the past 365 days have been. And even though, thanks to Owen, I can drive an hour to the children's hospital blindfolded and backwards....and even though he cried when we tried to feed him cake and frosting...and even though some of his diapers smell like a dead zombie that has been marinating in the sun for a week...I still would never even consider trading him in. He is my sweet little blue-eyed troublemaker and I'm loving (almost) every minute of it.


"For a long time, there were only
your footprints and laughter
in our dreams;
and even from such small things,
we knew we could not wait
to love you forever."

My Daughter's Purse

It is always a bittersweet time when you see your children mature before your eyes. Recently, I've had the pleasure of watching my daughter display some very instinctual woman behavior, one so deeply ingrained in our history that many of us don't even acknowledge it. I'm not talking about a woman's natural compassion for others or our predisposition to the "caretaker" role. I'm not talking about a maternal instinct, an inborn cooking ability (which clearly skipped me anyway), or the desire to please the men-folk.

I'm talking about the tendency to put crap in our purses.

I'd like to submit a photo into evidence. I had to wait until my miniature hoarder had gone to bed so as not to upset her by going through her purse, but once I had established that she was, indeed, asleep, I laid out all the contents. Let's examine them one by one, shall we?
1. This goes back and forth between being a simple bouncy orange ball to being a fruit snack. Either way, it would come in handy in that long line at the post office.

2. This hot pink bracelet goes with every.single.outfit. How is that not full of win?

3. Got Milk? Sure do! We plan ahead in our family.

4. The circus elephant threw me for a loop, I won't lie.

5. A cup, useful for everything from storing your before-mentioned fruit snack in to pouring a glass of delicious milk. Oh, and sometimes it's a hat.

6. Ah, the number 3. This poor foam letter has more bites in it than a lame vampire novel and yet it's still hanging in there.

7. Johnny's skateboard, because the guy has to get around SOMEHOW.

8. A fork, always a good idea. You just never know where those ones at the restaurant have been.... Though I'm not sure I really know where this one has been, either. Hmm.

9. I'd like to claim that my daughter uses this to whip out mathematical equations in her free time, but really - she thinks it's a phone. Don't go and ruin it, ok?

10. A big thanks to Uncle Eli on this one. This is also a "phone", however, this phone only calls Mr. T. My daughter now uses such phrases as "Don't gimme no backtalk, sucka" and "Whaachoo talkin' 'bout, fool?"

11. She claims these glass are stylish, however I have my reservations.

12. This is Joe. He was discovered in the same mystery toy pile that produced Johnny, but Joe is more like the annoying little brother who always tags along.

13. It's a plate. It's makeup. It's a clock. It's Johnny's chair.

14. Typically, these are used in some sort of medical fashion. The blue one with the notch out can often be found shoved up someone's nose or measuring their ears during a checkup. The small orange one detects your heartbeat. Don't worry - everyone is safe when Dr. Lainey and her Magical Mystery Purse are present.

15. RAAWR! What? The girl likes dinosaurs.

16. The brush I find rather ironic, considering that 80% of the time she acts like having her hair brushed is the equivalent to having hot pokers shoved into her eye socket. She does, however, like to brush Owen's hair, which takes all of 2.7 seconds so I guess it has a use after all.

17. Anyone caught without one of these in their purse should be thrown in jail.

18. Johnny. Duh.

19. Hello Kitty bracelet. Let it be known that this has never actually been used *AS* a bracelet. Usually she tries to barter with it like money.

20. A Hostess treat, in the plastic form. Always useful in thwarting those snack attacks.

21. This is a birthday cake. Never try and correct that, let's get that straight first of all. Also, those are not nuts - they are candles. You are allowed to blow the candles out as she sings you happy birthday, and then you will never see the cake again.

22. This is traditionally how the cake is served, via measuring cup. Sometimes, though, it dispenses medicine. I truly love things that are multi-functional.

23. Lipstick. Occasionally, it's eye shadow, but you have to watch it with that one - she's a little aggressive.

There were also two Cheerios half stuck to the inside, however I was unsure how long they had been condemned to the bottom of the purse so they now live in the garbage can.

It's Begining to Look a Lot Like Christmas

In an effort to keep this blog on the lighter side I won't go into my terrible, horrible, no good, very bad Halloween. For the first time in my 28 years of existence, I was quite happy to see that holiday come to a close. That did not mean, however, that I was prepared for what I would see the very next day.

I came home from work that evening, tired and anxious for a couple days' respite, and sat down in the dining room for a late dinner. Something seemed...different...so I took a moment to analyze the room when what, to my wondering eyes should appear, but a Christmas tree sitting cozily in the corner. On November 1st. A FREAKIN' CHRISTMAS TREE!

I like Christmas, don't get me wrong. 'Tis the season, holly jolly and all of that, sure. But I just don't transition from spiders to Santas that quickly. I need time to rummage through the bags of clearanced Halloween candy, to get out my oversized fleece sweatshirts and my ridiculous cocoa mugs, and to indulge my inner fat kid on turkey and mashed potatoes. They aren't even selling egg nog yet, for crying out loud! They are, actually, already selling cartons of the delicious artery-blocking syrup. Right next to the leftover SweetTarts, no doubt.

I continued to stare at the tree, mesmorized by the 12 strands of colored lights that now glowed thanks to my husband's impatience and holiday enthusiasm. I looked at him, confused that somehow I may have dozed off and slept through the rest of November. Reading my confusion he offered "At least I waited until after Halloween...", as if the mere act of waiting was the equivalent of being beaten with a tree limb or having to give up the last Oreo.

He has been making pumpkin pies in a continuous stream now for about three weeks, so I should have seen this coming. We have boxes of ornaments and decorations enough for two houses, most of which end up out all at once. One by one I take some down and redistribute them until we have an tolerable number of singing Christmas trees and bell-ringing thingamajigs. And not only do we have all of the kid's gifts purchased (thanks Swagbucks!), but he has already assembled the toys in preparation for Christmas morning. I won't lie, I find that quite adorable. His desire to create some wonderful holiday memories with our kids is contagious, and seeing the kids squeal (and drool) in delight over the same miniature train that we've watched 29382948 times already this week does sort of warm my heart - even if it is about three weeks early.

So here's to 48 more days of Christmas music, twinkling lights, and tinsel-coated cat puke. If I disappear between now and then, I'm likely in an egg-nog induced coma.

PS, I hope I didn't ruin your manly image, honey. I know that, should the day ever come, Christmas decorations would take a back seat to a good 49ers game on TV.

Reason I Love Being a Mom #14

Reason I Love Being a Mom #14: Having my daughter tell me during bathtime that she needed to wash the "pirates". I played along, asking if we needed to clean their pet parrot, too. She looked at me as if I were insane, grabbed the bar of soap, and proceeded to wash her nether region. Arrr matey, it's PRIVATES, not pirates...

No, DON'T Take Off the Mask!

The other day my husband was watching a show that went behind-the-scenes of the movie "Halloween". As an avid horror movie fan, I was appalled. Not only should they never have made such a thing, but I'm pretty disappointed that my husband would even turn it on in my presence.

"Halloween" is probably one of my all-time favorite horror movies. It's a classic. I mean, who knew that a bright white William Shatner and a few notes on a synthesizer could be so terrifying? But it's all over the second you go behind-the-scenes and see the guy behind the mask. He looks like someone's goofy uncle who wears his shorts too tight and loves to tell knock-knock jokes. I'd be more afraid of him cornering me and giving me a noogie than stabbing me in the guts with a kitchen knife. And can you believe that this "real" Michael Myers was afraid to pull the phone cord too tight because he didn't want to hurt the actress? She kept complaining that the cord was too loose around her neck, and to pull tighter, but he refused. Talk about sending the horror factor right down the crapper...

And if THAT weren't bad enough, the couple from Paranormal Activity made an appearance on some awards show the other night. Wait, weren't you two possessed? Did the Demon release your souls long enough for you to accept an award on his behalf? Disappointing. What's next? The puppet from SAW making a cameo on Sesame Street? Jason on Larry King Live?

It's true that it's getting harder and harder to shock audiences these days. Between the violent video games and the political ads on TV it seems like blood and gore is mainstream. So you would think that the people in charge of creating these horror movie masterpieces would be a little bit more careful in divulging their dirty little secrets. While it's interesting to note when the director's cigarette smoke drifts into the frame, it sort of takes away from the edge-of-your-seat, white knuckle terror to know that someone is standing there having a casual smoke as this poor girl is being attacked. John Carpenter, take note.

I've been informed that my husband has also DVR'd "The Making of Nightmare on Elm Street". I suppose next they'll tell me that Freddie Kruger loves puppies and tuna salad sandwiches. Is nothing sacred?