10 reasons I hate being late to church

1-the front rows are nice comfy (well, okay, that might be a stretch) pews with cushions... the back? Hard metal chairs. Not comfortable AT. ALL.

2-if by some small miracle (which in church isn't really out of the question) there IS a pew available when we arrive late I will choose it over the hard metal chairs.  Yes, I get the comfort - but then we must endure the questioning looks from those around us as we parade past...  why are we late?  did that kid even comb his hair?  what kind of fashion statement is the youngest making this week?  should she really be wearing 4 inch heels with her foot issues?

3-those hard metal chairs?  Also VERY cold.

4-the first few minutes of church are usually devoted to announcing stuff and introducing new people.  I find it very telling that I never know what is going on and I am unfamiliar with a full 1/3 of our congregation.

5-there is a phenomenon in congregational singing.  It seems that nobody is actually aware that it is their turn to sing until the noise of the people in front of them singing reaches their ears.  Sometimes it takes awhile for this sound to travel all the way to the back of the overflow area...   I was trained to sing when the conductor says to sing - which means sometimes my note comes a 1/2 beat before those around me.   Now, it's true that this can be a lot of fun and I have enjoyed making the people around me uncomfortable (don't worry, it's the 1/3 I don't know way back here...) but truly - this maybe should have made the #1 spot.

6-kids.  My own don't sit as well... can't really blame them with the hard, cold metal chairs... but still - I came to church to listen, didn't I?

7-kids.  Other ones this time.  I remember having young children and needing to take them out occasionally (okay, weekly) for a variety of reasons (messy diapers, inconsolable crying, just being so darn bored I wanted to poke myself in the eye) and then we sat where it was convenient to leave without creating a scene.  You know, back when I was young enough for the hard metal chairs to not bother me so much.  The young kids and their young parents are still back here, but somehow I just don't fit in anymore.

8-bad vision.  Okay, the truth is that I'm a tad on the short side...  okay, maybe a little closer to the ridiculously short side...  so seeing past rows and rows of heads that are taller than me is not always conducive to a good church experience.  I make it worse by usually waking up late enough that I don't want to put my contacts in... hmmm... maybe this has something to do with that 1/3 of the people I don't recognize?

9-hymn books.  There are just never enough of them in the back.  This is probably by design because very few of those moms can make it through a song without running to the foyer.  Or maybe they are hoping to lessen the number of people singing 1/2 a beat behind schedule?

10-hmmm... okay, I don't really have a number ten...  it seems like any list worth its snuff would have a final culminating good point.  But I don't - unless you want to hear about hard, cold, metal chairs again?

Top 2 signs that you (meaning I) are starved for attention...

#2 - you write a blog... all about yourself... and check your e-mail every 2.4 minutes to see if anyone has commented.

#1 - okay...bear with me...

An open letter to the Sweet little girl who I briefly encountered last night at a school event - no, not the one gluing the tootie frooties to her brother - the one who said "you're pretty" to me out of the blue...

You made my day.  You might have been going up to every lady in the school and telling them the same thing - but I'm sure you noticed how happy I was to hear you say it to me.  Or maybe my over-reaction freaked you out a little bit?  I didn't necessarily mean that I REALLY wanted to take you home and keep you forever.  My apologies, no need for the restraining order.

That is all.

Love, Tonya
(who is not a creeper in the least... but may have borrowed the picture from a divorce website... because apparently when you're as nice as me you don't have a restraining order laying about the house ready to be photographed.)

When You're Smiling... the whole world smiles with you...

you know that song right? I was thinking it was Sinatra... and I was partially right - but it seems that every big name tried to put their spin on this song... Frank Sinatra, Billie Holiday, Louis Armstrong, Dean Martin -- and Michael Buble... whose name STILL just bugs me. seriously.

The gist of the song is that when you're smiling, the whole world smiles with you... but let's be honest... that just isn't true is it? I mean... c'mon - sometimes when you're smilin' the whole world is thinking there has GOT to be something wrong with that perpetually chipper freak...

and not all smiles are equal - maybe that isn't politically correct... but some smiles are definitely more the type you want to smile along with... and some... well...

some just make the whole world stand up and run from the room screaming.

some cause the more cynical among us to make sure your parents are nearby with the diaper bag...

some make me glad for the lock on my bedroom door.  No creepy pets allowed.

and some make me want to put stronger locks on my girls' doors.

and some I just have to include so that my fellow blogger friends have a reason to scream today. (you're welcome Kristina) but really... that's a pretty smarmy smile - kinda makes me want to take a swing at those teeth!

Waiting for my nails to dry...

Warning - I am in a mood... an unfunny mood... if you want funny scroll down and read my Mormon Tabernacle Choir Nudie Calendar post again... and skip this one... I'll be back to being funny tomorrow - but hey, this is MY blog and I've got a little something on my mind that needs to be aired...



Waiting for my nails to dry.... Yep, some days that's all I've got. My kids are all out of the house by 8:30 in the morning - even if I have to shove them out that door... and ManOfTheHouse is usually gone by that time too...

I always chuckle to myself when he leaves asking the question "so, what are doing today?"

My answer? I think I'll take a hot shower, sit around in my robe... eat a few bon-bons, maybe give myself a pedicure. If I have time I might pluck my eyebrows or do a crossword puzzle... (not at the same time!) On a REALLY ambitious day I might look up an episode of something on Hulu...

and then I wake up from my reverie - and notice that there are 4 loads of laundry to be done - and only enough detergent for two cycles. There is a sink full of dishes and I probably need to pick up some cheese if we're making pizza tonight. The pizza dough has to get started by 3:15 or dinner will be another LATE night... which wouldn't really bother me except that the boys all have scouts. The rug is in serious need of a deep vacuuming and the tile grout is looking like tar. (well, it's not like it started out WHITE at least...) I have some artwork I need to complete before this afternoon's museum meeting and some open house invitations to hand deliver.

Yep, even though I am a Stay-at-home-Mother - and even though all of my children are in school... I manage to stay busy. So take THAT "mister-be-a-productive-member-of-society" because although I get a little defensive sometimes, I AM doing what I deem to be most important. (Note to readers... no, ManOfTheHouse is NOT who I'm ranting at... nor is Obama... it's just a general beef of the week)

When my kids arrive home from school it is to an adult who wants them to succeed in life... and making them do chores and homework is a necessary step in that success. When my kids are sick... I can pamper to my heart's content. When ManOfTheHouse needs an errand run during the day... I can drop everything and help him out. I am LUCKY to be able to do this. Last year I worked - way too much - and learned a few lessons. My choice isn't right for everyone and I respect that... really I do!

So yes, I need to decide what I want to be when I grow up... but for now - I need to be free to run my kids to band practice, their math classes, soccer, etc... and I need to remember that these children ARE my responsibility... a responsibility that I brought on myself willingly - a responsibility that I will cherish until the day they no longer need me... in 50 years or so...

So, excuse the ranting and ravings of a lunatic S.A.H.M. - I've said my piece. Now I can move on to starting that next load of laundry and that final sketch...

oh, and I need to decide on a color for my nails... I'm thinking it's a lime green day...

Why all the birds are dropping dead.

Now, contrary to popular belief - especially among those who have read my Hitchcock bird post - I am not an animal hater. Apparently my house is doing all the hating for me right now.

Scientists around the world are currently stymied as to why birds are dropping from the sky in huge numbers around the world... I might have a clue for them. You see, this is my front window

the reflection is to fight the summer heat...  it works, sort of...

two birds have flown into this window in the past week.

and you're very welcome - I drew the line at taking a photograph of the dead birds with their heads at unnatural angle.

Windows are deadly.

No... I am not suggesting that someone has installed a highly reflective window up in the sky into which thousands of birds are meeting their untimely death... but I have noticed one thing. Birds. Are. Dumb. Yes, the window is reflecting the outside... so they're happily flying along looking for a little more nature to fly in and they see - far below - a small archway leading into what appears to be sky and trees. Apparently birds are always on the look-out for better bits of the outdoors to fly in because they're getting crowded up there in the big blue.

So I can feel a little badly... really... what I don't get is that those windows that so neatly reflect the outdoors? Yep, they also reflect the BIRD. That same bird that is flying closer and closer. Playing chicken with his reflection. Is he hoping that other bird will turn aside and let him pass?

These world-wide mass bird deaths? Yep, probably just a bunch of idiot birds playing massive games of chicken way up the sky. I know, you probably haven't played "chicken" since elementary school - but remember hoping the other guy would bail first?  Yeah, only the dumb kids played it. The air is a little thin up there... maybe their thought processes are slowed. Or maybe there's a reason that "bird-brain" is an insult.

There's little to be done about mass bird idiocy - I wish the scientists the best of luck... but I'll do my part and take responsibility for the two bird deaths attributable to my home this week.

I've gotta do SOMETHING to help out the little guy...  like taping big X's on the window with blue masking tape?  Except that's boring.  and ugly.

So I've come up with options... tell me what you think - imagine that you live across the street from me (I know, a dream come true...  that house IS for sale...)

#1

simple... to the point... but do you think they come in green?

#2

I'm afraid it's just another version of "chicken" we'd just end up killing braver birds.

#3 (my favorite)

you think it'll work?  Of course, we may switch from having little dead bird carcasses piling up to having the highest number of car wrecks... what can I say - I'm an animal lover! Errrmmmm... well, I'm a non-animal-hater at least.

When Children become Fashion Conscious...

okay, maybe "conscious" isn't the right word?

she loves these boots!

you be the judge.

because as the mother, if I am the judge I have to deal with the kicking, screaming, crying, "you don't love me anymore and I'm going to punish you by sitting by DAD at the dinner table tonight" fits.

I'm sure the Runway announcers would have a great time announcing this little ensemble:

"and here we have Miss M - sporting a pair of boots with some real history.  Purchased years ago by a neighbor for their dress-up box these boots have seen many pair of feet, they have a lot of stories to smell tell, even before their current incarnation as a skit prop, having been painted with acrylics for a family reunion years past - that's true recycling there!"

"but don't overlook the tights - I hear tell those have some great features to them.  Where else can you find a pair of tights that ride comfortably below the bum and need to be tugged up constantly.  Rumor has it that when they were purchased they actually fit at the waist and were all but hidden by that dress - which used to reach the ankles! Innovative styling!!!"

"let's not pass over the shrug sweater - that's a hand-knit WONDER - the 1/2 length sleeves, the snug fit around her chest...  looks as it was made for her.  And it WAS - by her own grandmother - who must have some sort of future sight because when it was made six years ago it was HUGE - covering her entire torso...  but no worries, Miss M has grown into it well!"

and yes... for the record - I actually did let her go to school like that.  her hair was stunning and that makes up for a LOT!

men of the what???

Maybe it's just me.

Well, okay - I already know it's not JUST me, because ManOfTheHouse actually pointed it out first. Too bad he doesn't have a blog to share everything that he finds amusing 'eh?

so when you see the title on this

do you automatically think of something like this?

yeah, me either...

especially since these men

are fine, upstanding citizens...

and singing just doesn't leave them with that same chiseled look...


should probably avoid going out in rainstorms for fear of being struck by lightning now...  will it help if I tell you that I'd rather listen to the choir than ogle the calendar?  true story.

Lurkers? Gotta love 'em!

I came across a few posts out there in the blogosphere pronouncing today "National Delurking Day"...  my computer does not like this word - it is underlining it in red and insisting that it is not a word at all... however, it's not MY word... it's their word.  (No, I have no idea who "They" are....  this is just the universal "they" who seem to know all and do all the research studies....  you know... "they")


"They" even have a logo...

a logo that might make my kids' eyes pop out... they're sheltered.

and that logo is supposed to make you, my dear readers come out of hiding and say a big howdy so that I can get a little ego boost for my day.

I hate rules.

What do you say we just don't play their game?  Yeah, go ahead - comment all you like - I'd love to see a b'zillion and 3 comments down there, it would make me smile... but to make me LAUGH (out loud even) I would love to see a b'zillion and 3 ANONYMOUS comments - all proclaiming their undying love of me.  Or your undying love of Hostess Twinkies for all I care.

Yep, I know there are lurkers out there, and I'm just saying for the record - I luv ya... you don't HAVE to comment to be part of the MoreInfo family (although you might have to wear a name tag at family reunions because it will be hard to recognize you).  Lurk, Delurk... whatever makes you happy - I might love comments like most women love chocolate... but in the end, it turns out I write for me...  whether I get 29 comments or 2 I'm happy if I've made myself laugh.

That being said... don't STOP commenting... because if I suddenly drop down to 2 on every post I might cry.  Big crocodile tears... which are bad for my complexion... and I'd break out like it was 1999... (trust me...  bad year for my skin)... which would cause me to stay home a lot... and watch Oprah...  okay, maybe not Oprah...  probably re-runs of Psych... or Monk...  and... oh shoot, that'd just cheer me up all over again... what was my point?

:)

It's Wednesday, It's a picture... but the wordless thing KILLS me!

I'm a confident parent... really - I've taken this particular child to the store wearing a homemade super bouncy boy cape, cowboy boots, and shorts (okay, he was about 3 years old)... and endured the looks - but when he came out of the bathroom having combed his hair to look like Alfalfa... I had to cringe.

But before cringing I wanted a picture of COURSE!

he misunderstood my desire I think

because he's pretty sure that this is his big breakthrough into the world of Child Acting.

The conversation went something like this...

Po: go ahead Mom, take a picture, but get my good side.
Mom: is one of these angles better than the other?
Po: you told me I looked like that guy from that one movie (ummm... he's never seen Little Rascals)
Mom: well, TV show actually (I guess it's both, but I never saw the movie either)
Po: so maybe when they re-do it they'll pick me?
Mom: (sometimes it's just best to stay silent - this was one of those times...)
Po: how do kids get in movies anyway - I mean, I could have been the kid in Diary of A Wimpy Kid if I knew they were looking.  Maybe we should move to California?
Mom:  well, there are probably more casting directors per square mile in California than here...  but...
Po: (ignoring any negative talk - now announcing it to the whole family) Time to move, we're going to California guys!

5 minutes later he'd planned the entire move - and his first Oscar acceptance speech.

5 minutes after that he was on the bus... off to another day of torturing his 5th grade teacher.

my apologies to the teacher...  but considering that I did "encourage" him to tame the hair - maybe we can call it even?



maybe if Teachinfourth's Moments with Joey posts ever get made into a movie he'll have a shot at that?

A few suggestions for how to deal with piles and piles of money...

I had some other plans for the blog this morning - but after reading an AP article about the $190 million lottery winner who is staying hidden (presumably waiting to decide how to handle this sudden windfall) I decided that it was time for me to fulfill my civic duty.

That's right -while suddenly being handed truckloads of cash may confuse some people - others of us (that'd be me) have spent their whole lives researching how to handle this challenge if it were ever to present itself.

My regular readers may want to read just in case this kind of shock ever befalls them, but this is truly just for the winning Lotto Ticket Holder  (whomever he or she may be)

#1 Real Estate.  Now you may be thinking private island with that kind of cash - but beware...  you may not want to deal with the property taxes associated with this.  Not to mention the liability issues in case your island has bred some sort of man-eating dinosaur.  I would suggest looking for a reasonable neighborhood and purchasing EVERY house on the street...  quietly.  This way you can hand pick your neighbors.  If you're interested about 1/2 of the houses on my street are already for sale...  and although you don't know me from Adam (well, okay - I'm the one without the fig leaf) I would make a spectacular neighbor.  I've been known to bake too many cookies on occasion and need some help in consumption.

You may also be interested in a few homes around the country...  but keep 'em reasonable - something that you will be comfortable in for a few weeks/months while you visit that part of the country is sufficient.  Hotels have all the amenities, but seriously, even with millions of dollars burning a hole in your pocket $4 for a water bottle is still highway robbery.  Time shares are a great option... and you'd probably make the day of those poor guys who sit around all day trying to sell them to people who just signed up for the free vacation.

Globally - stay in nice hotels or bed and breakfasts when you're traveling out of the country...  there's too much hassle in owning real estate around the world.  Or so I've heard...  I don't even have a passport!

#2 Gold.  it may sound like I've been listening to too much Glen Beck, but hey - you've gotta have something to stick in all those basements alongside the food storage right?  Don't just stick to the big blocks of gold though - there's a lot of stunning gold jewelry out there that would look lovely on you or someone you love :)  It may not hold its value in quite the same way...  but really, you gotta live a little!

#3 Travel.   and then travel some more - go someplace you've always wanted to go... and stay long enough to get sick of the food.  Shop for some souvenirs that will look classy in your new home(s) instead of the kind of stuff that's sitting around on the shelf at your grandma's house.  (with apologies to my grandmother - because I actually really think her souvenirs are beautiful)  Befriend a nice local to help in your search... 

#4 Charity.  find a charity or two you want to donate to BEFORE coming forward.  Everyone and their dog will be begging you for a few bucks afterward.  Probably their dog's hairdresser's cousin's ex-wife's lawyer's neighbor's second cousin twice removed will even want a piece.  Decide now and stick to it.  My kids' education funds are available... just sayin'...  (well, you know...  if I'd begun such a fund that is... my poor kids...)

#5 Support Staff.  I'm sure you're looking into a financial planner...  which is a good idea - but consider other smaller things - you probably don't need a full time gardener or a full time maid... but with those homes of yours you'll definitely need a lawn service.

#6 Keep a low profile.  well, good luck with that at least.  However - a low profile doesn't mean you have to go without a decent car, pedicures, and some snappy new clothes...  just try not to flaunt it... because flaunting it leads to our next suggestion...

#7 Family.  Let's be real - family will hear about your good fortune and they will come out of the woodwork.  I'm sure you've never met your cousin Eunice before, but she will suddenly have stories of changing your diaper when you were a baby.  Establish a plan NOW - make it equitable - and stick to it.  Either tell them all to go jump in the lake - or finance an incredible vacation next summer...  if you choose to do something like pay off some homes or whatever - try to keep that quieter... Or just call up the Jerry Springer show today and book your visit so we can all enjoy the ensuing chaos.

#8 Budget.  Hey, apparently they don't just hand you the $190 million all at once - you have to make each installment last a little while.  Live as if you're never getting more than that first check (what is that... around $25 million after taxes?)  yeah, maybe hold off on the lawn service for now.

you're welcome... and if you need further assistance just e-mail me...  I think I'd actually make an incredible personal shopper...  

Readers - Any more advice for our winner?  Or the one thing you'd purchase today if $1000 just dropped in your lap?  I saw a gorgeous rug the other day...

Serious Sunday - Because I Have Been Given Much

I love music - I love singing...

I might even go so far as to say I miss the "good old days" of High School Choir...  except the "High School" part.  Okay, maybe I miss College Choir :)

Music Speaks to me...  and when I'm sitting in church listening to the hymns, it really speaks to my soul - reminds me of the important things in life.

Last Sunday had been a hard morning.  Our meeting time at church changed from 1:00 p.m. to 9:00 a.m. - which actually is a GOOD thing overall... but the first week, well, that's a little hard on the kiddoes.

Especially the little girl kiddo who just got a haircut and wanted bangs.  "Wanted" being the key word...

By Sunday morning - she wanted me to cut OFF her bangs.  I guess at 6 years old you don't realize the repercussions of this act... which is why I took the precaution of hiding ALL scissors in our home.

Luckily the stress of the morning passed - dresses were donned - ties were straightened - and hair... well, hair continues to be a major player in my story.

Off to church we go - to find peace, to praise, and to hear what I need to hear.

This particular day - I needed to hear what a piece of music would say to me...

The first two verses to Because I have Been Given Much were fairly quiet...  I mean... yeah yeah - I'm blessed and I should give to the poor,  and all that...  seems fitting for the Holiday Season we're still celebrating.  The 3rd verse... well, it decided to shout at me...

Because I have been blessed by thy great love, dear Lord,
oh shoot... I wasn't very loving this morning.  
I'll share thy love again, according to thy word.
as I look down at the dear six year old snuggled under my arm...  and will her to forget all my frustrated moments this morning.
I shall give love to those in need; I'll show that love by word and deed:
okay, okay - I get it - I have a serious anger management issue and doing this hair brings out the "Mommy Dearest" in me...  (oh, not that bad - I promise!)
Thus shall my thanks be thanks indeed.
By this point tears are welling - I can barely sing the words...  If I'm meant to live the gospel and share my testimony (I am) then this is where I need to begin.  These are the little hands (and hair) that I'm supposed to show the best example to...

Yep, Music speaks to me...

Sometimes it's comforting.
Sometimes it's thrilling.
and Sometimes... sometimes it slaps me across the face for good measure.

Lesson Learned.

Of course, it's currently 7:30 a.m. - time to get ready for church... perhaps I should turn on my CD of church music and hope for the best?

The imPerfect Morning Routine

5:00 a.m. - wake up, peek at the clock, groan
5:02 a.m. - wonder why on earth you are up at this hour
5:03 a.m. - realize why, but choose to live in denial
5:05 a.m. - Fine... I'll get up and use the bathroom already - but I'd better be able to get back to sleep!
5:06 through 5:09 - well, you don't need the details... let's just say that teeth were brushed while there - I'm a little O.C.D. about my teeth.
5:10 a.m. - back to bed
5:11 through 5:39 - cursing all the water I drank yesterday until finally drifting off to sleep.
5:45 a.m. - the alarm goes off
5:46 a.m. - I seriously debate texting my workout partner and canceling.
5:47 a.m. - okay, fine...
5:55 a.m. - after getting dressed in ugly stretchy clothes I leave the house.
6:00 through 6:55 - I grumble through my entire workout - but hey, I deserve points for being upright.
7:00 a.m. - I return to a dark house and think how utterly unfair it is that everyone else can sleep in.
7:01 a.m. - Okay, except for the 11 year old who just scared the b'whoozit out of me by popping up off the couch and wanting to know what's for breakfast.
7:03 a.m. - I decide subconsciously that if I have to be up then everyone else should too. I knock over the chore board and scatter magnets everywhere. oops.
7:05 a.m. - Now that they're all up - it's porridge for breakfast.
7:15 through 7:45 - consist entirely of arguments... what to wear, what to pack for lunch, whether or not the six year old is getting dressed at all... asking Veggie Teen to play the piano a little more softly because we can't hear ourselves think... whose turn is it to pray?... whether or not the new bangs really DO make the 6 yr old look like Taylor Swift... everyone telling her (while rolling eyes) that yes, she is the spitting image of the rock star because otherwise she is liable to cut those bangs off herself.
7:45 a.m. - finally dressed we are able to straighten miss M's hair - and kick the two oldest out the door.
7:46 a.m. - remind the 11 year old that plaid shorts and a striped shirt aren't the best of fashion statements.
8:00 - What? The youngest 3 are all ready? Lunches made? I think I have time for a shower.
8:07 a.m. - a VERY quick shower.
8:11 a.m. - kissing ManOfTheHouse goodbye - have a good day at work... etc...
8:15 a.m. - the bus doesn't come for 15 minutes, so yes... you can relax a few minutes. Good thing I relented because 8 year old had already been using my computer to play Topsy Turvy since I'd jumped in the shower.
8:16 through 8:29 - blissful ignorance.
8:30 a.m. - that loud rumbling noise I just heard better not have been your bus kids!
8:30 and a few seconds... not the bus, but isn't it coming in a minute or two?
8:30 and a few more seconds... what? you packed the lunch, but have now LOST the entire lunch box
8:30 and a few more seconds... mental calculations reveal that lunch money is long spent
8:30 and even more seconds yet - all you can hear are feet running up and down stairs... halls... doors slamming...
8:31 a.m. - and what was lost (the pink kitty lunchbox) is now found - but no time to break into song over it.
8:32 a.m. - they've been shuffled out the door, the door has been locked.
8:32 and mere seconds later - pounding on door. Please please please tell me they didn't miss the bus... 11 year old just forgot his gloves.
8:33 a.m. - collapse.
8:34 a.m. - wonder whether or not the 11 year old ever changed his clothes...
8:35 a.m. - Blogging

Next up? - maybe I'll take this towel off my wet hair and get dressed for the day... but wait... my meeting's not 'til 10:00... I've still got plenty of time... right?

Let's not point out that I should probably go re-assemble the chore board... and clean up the breakfast porridge... and, oh crud... fine, but frankly - no matter HOW much I get done today - the 7-8:30 time is the most productive portion of my day!

Snow many memories

I should probably mention that I grew up in Colorado - where it actually snows. REAL snow.

I have distinct memories of snow drifts that prevented our front door from opening... of jumping off the stacked hay bales into the snow drifts (after we managed to get the door open, and tunnel out...)  Of walking uphill both ways to school through mud and slush up to my shoulders...  okay - maybe not THAT bad... but close.

I remember eating down in the basement, huddled around the wood burning stove because our power was out and this was the only source of heat... My mom cooked soup or something on the stove - which I'm sure I didn't eat because I was THAT picky... my kids come by it rightly. I would have had to be at death's door before I ate something other than a hamburger with ketchup only.

So yes, I DO know what a real snowstorm is like... I really do...  I remember playing soccer in more snow than we get here in the desert.  School closures were few and far between - and usually only because my neighborhood (the country bumpkins) didn't have passable roads.  I remember wanting to CRY because I was so cold... but praying that I wouldn't actually break down because then the tears (and the snot) would just freeze onto my face.

I know...

That knowledge doesn't prevent me from wanting to hole up in my house, wrapped in my Cozy, with the heat dish aimed at my fingers to keep them warm enough to type...

and now I also know that I'm a little bit of a wimp.

"Storm" 1... Last year  (okay, last week)

"Storm" 2... This morning.

Can I tell you that I almost didn't go work out this morning...  bundling up, having to walk up the hill in the snow...  yeah, didn't sound fun to me...

But I did it.

And a good thing, because we still have leftover pie...

Yes, it's official - I now live in the desert... and I've forgotten my ability to dig out and dive in. You'll be happy to know that we're trying to keep the kids from becoming as wimpy as their mother...

So far... so good...

and now I've gotta go call in all the kids - the hot chocolate is ready to go!