Groceries!

Inspired by my friend, Becky, I took pictures of the groceries I bought today. I used to try and do a once a month grocery trip but I'm way too forgetful and impulsive to get by on just one grocery store run per month. So I switched to the weekly plan. My hope dream aspiration goal is to make a weekly menu and JUST BUY GROCERIES FOR THAT MENU (and there was much laughter all across the Web). So here's what happen today:


This is the stuff I need for the weekly menu









This is everything else I bought







Hmmm.... gotta work on that self control thing.....

Wow

My no. 2 daughter got up at 6:30 am this morning (this must be from her father's DNA because I don't get up before 7:30 am unless I'm in labor)

She made me breakfast in bed.









She made her sister breakfast in bed.








Then she fed her three brothers (ages 6, 4 and 2) by herself.
[no photo because I was still in bed eating]



Did I mention she's only 8?

Oh. My.

I know not all pop music is suppose to comment on the human condition. Some of it is meant purely for entertainment (like anything written by Prince). I'm not asking for artists to use the King James Bible for song lyrics, but when I found this song the other day, my jaw dropped. This delicate sonnet is from the Black Eyed Peas, a hip/hop group out of LA.

My love (love), my love, my love, my love (love)
You love my lady lumps (love),
My hump, my hump, my hump (love),
My humps they got you

My goodness. And it goes on and on like this. Did they have no other lyrics? I mean, just what greater good would a song like this serve? Can you imagine a member of this group, say Fergie, going to her Grandma's house?

Fergie: "Wassup, Grandma!"
Grandma: "Why hello, my pet, how are you today?"
Fergie: "Just great! I wrote a new song."
Grandma: "Oh you did? Well aren't you the most talented young lady! Tell me sweetie, what is your song about? Do you sing of the magnificence of the world around us?"
Fergie:"Uh...no."
Grandma: "Do you sing of the glorious wonder of true love?"
Fergie: "Nuh uh."
Grandma: "Do you sing of the frailty of human nature?"
Fergie: "Naaah"
Grandma: "To bring awareness to the suffering of others?"
Fergie: "Nope"
Grandma: "Well, poppet, tell your grandma just what you're singing about?"
Fergie: "My hump."
Grandma: "I beg your pardon?"
Fergie: "My hump."
Grandma: "Say again sweetie? Grandma's hearing is not what it used to be."
Fergie: "My hump, Grandma. And my lady lumps."
Grandma: "Oh dear..."
Fergie: "And about how men will buy me with things that smack of materialism so I will feign a relationship with them which in truth, only feeds their superficial physical needs. Temporarily."
Grandma: "I see....Ooo! Is that your Grandfather calling me? I'm sorry my tart..um dear, I really must go now."

Yes sir folks, the world's goin' to heck in a Birkin handbag.

My Girl

This is my daughter. Today, she turns 11. Happy Birthday Sweetheart. Mommy and Daddy are so proud of the way you are growing up.










Yesterday she was like this.









A couple of days before that she was like this.






~sigh~

A Fix

World Magazine just came out with its 2008 book issue. This is the issue where they review a whole boat load of books. For a book addict like me, this is crack. If anyone needs me, and I mean critical emergencies only, I'll be in the basement, reading. Just send down a latte ever four hours. No, make that three hours.

It's That Time of Year Again

It's time for the local library's summer reading program.  This means the kids will be getting gift certificates to Home Town Buffet. Ok....be strong....don't cave to temptation....

A Day in the Life of Baby

This was Baby at 11:00 this morning.


He must have had a late night because he never falls asleep at this hour, much less on my lap.

Then he woke up, and got a hold of my drink.

Notice the empty bottle (it was half full when I left it).
Notice the variety of Vitamin Water that it is (revive?!?)

This was Baby 10 minutes ago
He got into my pantry, pulled out the vacuum cleaner, plugged it in and started cleaning.
And then this.

Ok, I put him up to the dish washing, but I do have a bathroom that needs cleaning...

Those Funny Russians

What happens after one too many vodkas....

I Can Dream, Can't I?

It's 70 degrees here in Lil' Rhody. There are fluffy white clouds in the beautiful blue sky so I said to myself, "We need to be outside!" And I thought, it's been at least a year since we've been on a picnic so I told the kids, "Let's go to the park!" There's a large and lovely playground near us that's in a very nice park with plenty of grassy areas perfect for a picnic on a beautiful day. I threw some sandwich fixin's in a bag and off we went, smiles on our faces.

Visions of my lovely picnic with my charming kids came crashing down when the reality of my situation hit. I have boys. Three little boys. Now my boys, alone, individually, are wonderful, sweet and charming (ok, I'm exaggerating a bit with Baby). Together however, they are more rambunctious than chihuahuas on speed.

After climbing and touching everything that could be climbed and touched and terrorizing every other kid at the playground, we went to our picnic area so I could make lunch start my non-stop litany of
don'tthrowthatstonedon'tthowthatstickwhere'syourbrotherdon'tthrowthatdirteither
~quick breath~
leavethesquirrelalonewhere'syourbrotherstoprollingaroundinthemudgetoutoftheparkinglot
~hurry make sandwich ~ whereisyourbrotherIsaidputthatstickdowncomeherecomehereCOMEHERE!

Now we are home, the little boys are napping, and I'm exhausted. And I remember why it's been a year since our last picnic.

I Wanted to Eat My Flesh

In honor of Lori's post about awkward meals the other day, I want to make her feel better by sharing a dinner party experience I had.

When we were first married, my husband and I went to a small church in Dartmouth, MA (well, most churches in New England are small). I guess we looked like lost puppies because one Easter, this family took pity on us and invited us over to their house for Easter dinner that evening. The next year, I decided I was going to return the favor by inviting them to our house for Easter dinner. I don't know what possessed me to make lasagne for Easter dinner. Anyway, I thought I was being real clever by making the lasagne the Saturday night before and putting it in the refrigerator. I figured that way, as soon as we returned from church, I would just pop that baby in the oven, and we'd have a nice hot meal in no time. Did I mention that we lived 30 minutes from the church? This might not mean too much to most of you, but for you New Englanders out there, you're thinking, "Why did you attend a church soooo far away?"

So this lovely family follows us home from church, I put the cold lasagne in the oven and we sit at my kitchen table and wait. And wait. And wait. Did I mention that I didn't make any appetizers? When we were nearing the 1 hour mark and the lasagne was still cold, I found a half eaten bag of tortilla chips in my pantry. No dip, no salsa, just plain chips. Finally, about two hours after we got home, and about five hours since anyone had a decent meal, the lasagne was hot. And like a good hostess, I forgot to make a salad or any other side to go with this meal (that was sarcasm). Having barely avoided starvation, we finally ate the lasagne. Suffice to say, it was quite an uncomfortable dinner party for all. But God has a sense of humor. I know this because the family's name was Donner.

How Sweet is That?

Nothing warms my heart like seeing my little baby try to be like his daddy.

Yes, that is a basket on Baby's head.

Week End Fun

I am your average housewife. I am mother to five children whom I home school. I like to make sure a hot dinner is ready when my husband gets home from work. Because I like to support him in his endeavors, I took our children to an event at our church that he helped organize. It's called GearFest. It's an annual Father's Day event where all sorts of cars, truck, motorcycles and heavy equipment are bought in for dads and kids to climb on, look at, explore, etc. I was walking around, keeping an eye on my kids, admiring my husband's accomplishments when I saw my friend's car. A BMW M Convertible Roadster. "Would you like to drive it?" he said. "Sure," I thought, "it'd be fun." So me and my 10 year old got in. We buckled up and started the engine and...Oooo. Mild mannered housewife no more. I was in control of six cylinders of automotive love. Yeah baby. I went out on the road and opened that bad boy up. After tearing up the back roads a bit, we returned to the event, I parked the car, gathered my children. And SMILED.

Help!

Normally on Frump Free Fridays, I am throwing my two cents out there regarding frump fighting but today, I lay myself bare friends. Be gentle. This time, I am asking for help. ~Bo Hunkmeister looks shocked~ It's about my hair.





This is Me.

This is MyHair.















MyHair, at times, seems like a 6th child (high maintenance, can be fussy, gets in my way a lot, etc.). I have a love/hate relationship with MyHair. Bo Hunkmeister likes it. A lot. So I like it too. Yet, I don't like MyHair because it takes a good two hours to dry. MyHair is a pain to deal with during the heat of summer. MyHair gets in my face. If I pull it back so it doesn't get in my face, I get the halo of frizzies. And I won't even start on the rant about static during the winter.

My biggest issue though with MyHair, is that I've been wearing it in the same frumpy way since, oh high school. For example:

















And these photos are from the past six months. There are many, many more like 'em.





Sometime, when it's too hot I put it up like this:











But that's the extent of my hair creativity. So what I need from you, my internet friends, is suggestions for change. Keep in mind, I have five active children all under the age of 10 so I need something very low maintenance. Did you get that? Very Low Maintenance. And nothing too drastic (a la Posh Spice) because I don't want Bo Hunkmeister to be mournful for weeks on end. I'm looking forward to your creative comments and extend a heartfelt advance thank you to my frump fighting sisters.

(By the way, the photos of me and MyHair were taken by my 10 year old daughter. She took some really good photos on our RV trip. If anyone is looking for a wedding photographer on the cheap, give me a call.)

Bo Hunkmeister Found This For Me

Is it me or what? This is why I love Bo.

A Solution for Us Common Folk

I know many of you, since reading my Posh Spice post, have been wondering, "How much time does the Domestic Goddess have on her hands?" or "Who's watching her darling babies while she trolls the web?" or "Where can I get my hands on an overpriced, bulky Birkin Bag?" Well, I have the answer for that last question. You can rent, yes rent, your very own Birkin bag from Bag, Borrow or Steal. If you're fashion conscious but budget minded, you can rent instead of owning. For only $1,632 a week. Why that's just $233 a day! Less than $10 an hour! And to think I was going to sell off a few of my kiddies so I could buy a Birkin like Posh...

Paris Hilton and the End Times

Some people see certain world events as signs that the end times are near. Events such as war, earthquakes, tsunamis, etc. I see things like "Paris Hilton's My New BFF (Best Friends Forever)" and I know for certain God is in heaven saying, "I have had it with the lack of imagination! And people prostituting themselves for five minutes of notoriety! Call out the hell fire and brimstone!" Ok, enough blaspheming.

It has come to my attention that MTV, that bastion of quality broadcasting, has a new show in which 20 or so young people "compete" to be Paris Hilton's new best friend. Initially, I was just going to unleash the snarky hounds of hell and mock Paris and all that she is, but I thought, that's not what a nice Domestic Goddess would do. Then, as I cleaned up the pancake syrup that my son spilled all over the floor, wall and table, it occurred to me that I have a few qualities that might make me a perfect BFF for my home girl Paris.

1. I already own a pair of Manolo Blahniks (got 'em at Savers for $6.00!)
2. I've been to Paris, as in France
3. I have a cute entourage, my kids. This is valuable on a couple of levels; it’s always good to look like you have lots of friends; with my kiddos, there's always adventure and when you get into that next media hot spot for a poorly made video, ask any politician, a photo op with a bunch of cute kids does wonders.
4. I brine my chicken. No really, Paris, you have no idea how important this is.
5. I love sushi
6. I'm use to being up at 3:00 am with whiney kids
7. I already have a terribly sexy hubby, so I won't be stealing your boyfriend ('cause, you know, like everyone knows men find petite middle aged women with five kids hawt!)

So Paris, girlfriend, give me a call!

Keepin' It Real

Baby has a tendency to get into a lot of things. I mean, a lot. I mean if something is broken or missing, you can count on it being Baby's fault.
We're trying to toilet train Baby today. Which means, while he started the day in a t-shirt and underpants, he is now buck naked. So I hear Baby fussing in the bathroom. "Ooo!" I say to myself, "Maybe he's trying to go on the potty and he needs his mother's help!" I go in to find Baby has gotten into my supply of sanitary products and is now trying to get the adhesive pad off of his little boy parts. Being the mom that I am, I blog about it.

You know who I've been thinking about lately?

Posh Spice.

Yes, I know, it makes no sense to me either. And don't send comments about how "she might be famous but you're far more blessed." This I know. Truly. But I have to admit, I like how she's so put together every time she's seen. I'd like to spend a day in her glamazon shoes with her wardrobe. She can keep the gi-huge-ic sunglasses though. Did I mention the shoes?

I like the fact that she's been married since 1997. In La La Land, that's a looooonnnngg time. She's also got three kids and they haven't been taken from her yet. That's another major accomplishment in La La Land (my source: People Magazine On-Line - the common man's Wikipedia). You know, she dated Corey Haim in 1995. I wonder if he lies awake at night thinking, "I should have never told her her thighs were fat."

I know she looks like a Barbie doll but if I looked like that after birthin' three kids, I'd probably flaunt it too. Yes, I also know she's had "work" done. As Amy from Milkbreath & Margaritas said, "Her boobs are younger than most of the rest of her body and just a tad out of proportion to her size, which is minus 2."

Much has been said about her constant pout. I think that's part of the branding. If I had 250+ pictures of me on People.com, I think I'd be pouty too.

Supposedly she's got 100 of these Hermes Birkin bags. They start at $4,000. I don't understand. Someone please enlighten me. I know they're hand made but unless they come with a gold bar in the bottom, I fail to see the justification for the price. I'm not sure why a petite person like Posh carries such big bags. It's not like she has to lug around diapers and wipes. On the other hand, she has three boys and boys can get messy, so maybe she needs a big bag for the change of clothes?

Next post I'll try to write about something more relevant. Like why I'm considering changing my name to Domestic Spice.

~Sigh~

To my adoring fans -all six of you- I'm sorry I haven't blogged in a while.

I've been...sad



So......sad



"Why are you sad?" the adoring public asks, "When you have a hunky husband, five cuter than all git-out kiddies and a level of fabulosity few have met? (yep, still off the meds)"

Because I'm suffering from....

PAFRVTSD Syndrome

(Post Awfully Fun RV Trip Syndrome Disorder)

"Gasp! What is this horrible affliction?" you ask.

It's what happens when you have a fun time on the road doing nothing but watching the scenery go by, drinking frappuccinos, eating beef jerky and then suddenly you're back home having to do school work, laundry and telling the kids for the umpteenth time that they cannot watch a video.


~sigh~


No really, I'll be fine.

It's ok.

I'll find something to write about soon.

I think.


~long sigh~


(read about the trip here)