I Saw You Doing Something Which Was Really Truly Nothing and You Can Bust Me Up All Day

"Mommy, you afraid to count?"

"Huh?"

"Because 7 - 8 - 9! Get it? GET IT?!" ::laughing uncontrollably:: "Oh, I so funny."

I'm Special (Special), So Special (Special), I Gotta Have Some of Your Attention, Give it to Me

Yesterday, I had gluten in my lunch.

I know! I know!

Whomever purchased the last round of frozen gluten-free macaroni and cheese got one made with wheat by mistake (my guess it was mixed up in the freezer section). I had two bites and was all, Hmmm... this tastes off.

Turns out, I was right.

Vomiting is fun.

Especially when blood is involved.

Mmmm, blood.

Stupid wheat allergy.

New subject!

Angela wants us to flash our dining rooms. (She's a wee bit demanding, yes?)

(I'm just kidding.)

(Sort of.)

After last week's living room post, I decided I'm not going to clean up for you all. So you may bask in the dirtiness and filth.

Now, I don't have a "dining room" per se... we call it "the breakfast room" (mainly because it is pathetically small).


Here's the view from the living room (see? red armoire on the left).


This is where I write all these creative little rants about life (photo-hungry children included).

We practice the "hang shit where they left the nails" philosophy. And those green shelves where there when we moved in. I'd like to do something with this wall, but haven't figured out what yet, particularly thanks to the non-existent budget. I'd particularly like some device that would hold cookbooks, but it would have to be thin (I don't like banging my head against stuff, weird, I know). Any decorating advice would be helpful.

Just to the right of Griffin is the hallway.


And this is the view from the hallway. Isn't that the best bumper sticker ever?


And this is the view from the telephone table. See the pile of magazines to read?


And let us not forget the beautiful flooring. The children had decided to start pick-pick-picking at the linoleum tiles and eat it. So, being the budget-minded person I am, I figured out a way to fill them (wood filler! polyurethane!).


And the view into the kitchen from where I sit. See? I didn't clean those counters off at all.

I hope this makes everyone happy.

And I hope you all feel like much better people for having a cleaner dining room than I have.

Destination Unknown; Ruby, Ruby, Ruby, Ruby Soho

It is becoming increasingly typical that the children are having a harder and harder time going upstairs. Perhaps this has something to do with my broken foot (yes, I blame it for everything) or with the fact that Aaron leaves in a week for a six-day trip and the tension is already beginning to rise. In any case, no one wants to go upstairs; there is more and more fighting, vomiting and fits involved.

When such a case arises, we put something saved from the DVR on to watch. And it's not saved Charlie and Lola or Max and Ruby or any other cartoon that is titled Character A and Character B. We put on our shows.

Typically, we watch something about Freemasons. Or pyramids. Or Doomsday 2012. Or the Mysterious Heads of Easter Island. Last night, I chose The Girls Next Door.

I figured this would go over well. Griffin loves boobies. Unfortunately, I could barely hear the girls' anxieties over shooting their next Playboy pictorial because Griffin kept adding his two cents to the show.

As in, "Mommy, I like your boobies more." Or, "Mommy, their boobies are scary." And, "Mommy, where's their nipples?" And let us not forget, "Mommy, you've got the best boobies in the whole wide world."

It's a Cruel (Cruel!), Cruel Summer

Last night, I decided It Was Time To Walk Around the Yard.

Dear Heavenly Diety, what the fuck was I thinking?

If you have a broken foot, don't go walking in grass. That is Very Important Information to know.

And to top off nearly falling and breaking my neck (multiple times), the fucking camera decided to be judgmental -- either you take photos with the flash or run the risk of nearly all the photos being blurry.

Well, fuck you too camera. Here's the three (three!) photos out of thirty that aren't too blurry to post.

Let me warn you... the garden is no longer a pretty sight.


The triangle. It use to look like this.

Fucking foot.

Fucking heat.


The island. The hydrangea bush is about to die, as is that tree on the side. It use to be pretty, like this.

Fucking foot.

Fucking heat.


And nearly all of our grass is dying. Not just turning brown, but dying. It use to be green, like this.

Fucking foot.

Fucking heat.

Yeah, this broken foot has definitely set back the garden goals by two years, at least.

We Use to Have Hope, Now We Got Soap on a Rope

Jenijen left a comment the other day (when I posted about my living room) that my living room was way too clean.

You know what?

She was right.

I picked up toys before I took photos.

Here's what it typically looks like...


Except, usually, Griffin is in a thinking chair (purple chairs) instead of having his nose in the corner. He graduated to such an honor by being put in the thinking chair and deciding to pick up a lego and poke Darwin in his blind eye.

On a lighter, more fun note...

I've received more goodies...


LLA sent me some purty nail polish and a homemade washcloth (love it!).


I also received this beautiful handmade card from Cheryl along with one of these in fushia (Dear Blogger: Hate you too). Apparently, she misses photos of my garden... well, I miss my garden too. I've been wanting to get out there and take photos of its pathetic existence. I'm about two years behind due to the fucking broken foot, damn heat and crap-ass amount of rain we haven't been getting.

Well, I must be going now. Darwin just brought me the diaper wipes and proclaiming, "Shit! Shit! Shiiiiiiiiiiit!" Honestly, I don't know where these children get their foul language.

She Blinded Me with Science (Science!)

As I've said many times before... Aaron and I are just two nerds raising two more nerds.

In case you haven't noticed, I even have a badge of honor (for I am a Supreme Nerd! Supreme Nerd!) underneath my blogroll over there on the right.

Like all other people with obsessive-compulsive disorder (although he'll never admit it), Aaron goes through these phases of deep research and information gathering about one topic. Over the years, it is just getting worse and worse.

The point of no return began with the Democratic party starting to pick out its candidate for the 2004 election. For two years, he lived, breathed, ate and slept politics.

Now I love my politics too, and quite possibly more than your average American. But Aaron took it to the extreme -- just like he takes it all to the extreme.

Once he got over his political rampages, he moved on to being obsessed with the Freemasons. Of course, it was easy to switch topics since Aaron is loves conspiracy theories, and there are many people who believe that the Freemasons have a secret (or not-so-secret) hand in how our government works. Just in the past two months, his Freemason obsession has cooled down and has turned to obsessing with pyramids. Of course, this isn't a surprise either, more of a natural evolution, considering all the Freemason symbolism of "the all-seeing eye" in the pyramid.

In all of his research of pyramids, Aaron has re-discovered the Golden Ratio. Hence, our new obsession.

[And if you're wondering where the fuck this is all going any why you need to know this information, it will be disclosed to you very shortly.]

The Golden Ratio is basically a ratio that is not only pleasing to the human eye, but balanced in design. It has been used for thousands of years including the design of the Parthenon and the Pyramid of Giza. For two-dimensional pieces of art, it is called "the rule of thirds" and is evident in paintings, such as the Mona Lisa.

As crafters and artists, I'm quite certain we have all heard of the rule of thirds, the eye-appealing symmetry of it all. But the Golden Ratio (1:1.618033989) is evident in nearly all aspects of our lives, without us even necessarily noticing it.

Credit cards, tables and even...


... legos use the Golden Ratio in their design.

**edited to add: assuming the verticle side of the lego is equal to 1, the horizontal side of the lego is equal to 1.618; of course, the Golden Ratio does not come into play on the length (in this case, depth) of the lego.

So, the next time you create -- whether it be taking a picture, scrapbooking or designing a quilt -- you will likely be using the Golden Ratio without necessarily realizing it.

Okay, class dismissed.

The Say Goldfish Have No Memory, I Guess Their Lives Are Much Like Mine; and the Little Plastic Castle is a Surprise Everytime

Darwin is currently going through some sort of an identity crisis.

One minute, he's a monkey jumping all over me screaming, "Ooooo... Eeeee... Ooooo... Eeeee." The next moment, he's laying in doorways rubbing his back with the carpet, purring, "Meeeoooowww, meeeeooowwww..."

Next thing I know, he's fetching toys, licking me on my face and barking at everything. In these moments, he insists on being called Sizzles, complete with British accent.


And let us not forget, he's a big ham with a major side of cheese.

Yesterday Aaron came home from work very flustered -- they want to send him out of town a trip that will be at least a week long. I was scheduled to go back to my doctor on Friday the 25th, but because Aaron's trip is currently scheduled for him to leave on the 20th and Kathy (my stepmom and free babysitting provider) goes back to teaching college on the 21st, my appointment is now on the 18th. WHICH THEORETICALLY MEANS I HAVE TEN DAYS LEFT OF WEARING THIS GOD FORSAKEN BOOT.

Yes, I realize it will probably be another month before I'm back to resuming normal activities (Can. Not. Wait. Oh. Sweet. Jesus.), but the sooner I get this freaking boot off, the better.

You all do not want to know what it feels and smells like wearing something like this when the average temperature is 104 degrees outside.

Dis. Gust. Ing.

Your Groove I Do Deeply Dig, No Walls Only the Bridge; My Supperdish, My Succotash Wish (Sing it Baby)

Okay, fine. Here's what my living room really looks like (happy now, Angela?)...


This is the view from the breakfast room (read: the pathetic little excuse for a dining room) doorway. I'm not jazzed about the curtains, specifically those little "decorative" things swagging from the top. I'd love to replace the curtains with something like Manda's barkcloth.

This is the view from the "entry" room... yes, my children are nearly naked and always buried under forts. What? Your's aren't?

From here, you can see the "official" front door (that we never use -- bad chi), a blockaded door to Aaron's cave and the plaid jumping couch (as long as no one is sitting there, the children are allowed to jump and be crazy on that couch). We use to have prints hanging above the couch, but there were way too many destructive moments of taking them off the wall and flinging them across the room. Eventually, I'd love to get an ubber-cool old-fashioned upright piano to put there.



Here's an overhead shot from the front door... you can see our humongous old wardrobe that's suppose be here in the entry room (but isn't due to the never ending construction that is plastering and painting) -- we use it as a coat closet because we don't have a coat closet in this freaking old house (nor do we have a linen closet or a pantry. Stupid old house). You can also see the red tv armoire; on top of it is a lamp (we use to have two six-foot tall stained glass lamps, but each child broke one -- I've fixed them both, but they aren't coming out until they go to college or decide to follow a band around the country, whichever comes first), a healing-rock and boxes hiding kids movies.

I'd like to, whenever that phantom piano arrives on my doorstep, get a corner tv armoire and angle the couch away from the window, get a couple of club chairs, an area rug and make the room more cozy... but for now, this is the kids' favorite place to play (they drag their toys from the playroom in here) and be crazy.

Underneath the carpets we have original hardwoods -- it is a goal in the next few years to rip out the carpets; hopefully, we won't have to refinish the hardwoods underneath.

Mmmmkay. Everyone happy now? Questions?

Put Me in the Hospital for Nerves and Then They Had to Commit Me, You Told Them All I Was Crazy. They Cut Off My Leg, Now I'm an Amputee God Damn You.

Oh internet, how I love thee.

I love the for thy free Hexic. I love thee for thy free alternative rock streaming live.


I love thee for thy information on Darwin's polka-dot rash. (Although I do love the dermatologist more for thy miracle cream.)


I love thee for encouraging Aaron's masonic symbolism obsession. (Actually? Notsomuch.)

Thy internets is good.

There's No Place That I'd Rather be than Nowhere, Quiet Storm King You Will Soon Be on Your Own

Yesterday morning I got up and did the full routine -- fed the boys breakfast, ate breakfast, loaded and ran the dishwasher, opened up the computer, logged on to my personal email account, responded to an email and then **poof** my internet connection was gone.

Gone.

So I rebooted the computer... and it couldn't find my modem. So I booted the computer again. And then it said my modem was deleted. Shit. So I rebooted again and it said someone else was logged onto my computer.

Holy hell.

Once I realized that, because I'm crippled and can't got to the basement to jack with the wireless network, I wouldn't have internet all day I called Alicia in tears begging her to order the Stitchettes for me (thank Goddess for wonderful friends).

I went all day without internet access. All day.

Of course, I developed quite the nervous tick... what if someone needed me? What if something happened? What if I was The Last To Know? What was I going to do without the internet? How would I cope? How could I survive without "talking" to other adults? Oh My, The Horror! The Horror!

I survived by cleaning, scrapbooking (eight pages! eeeeeeiiiiiiggggghhhhhhttttt!!!!) and working on the cookbook. And really, I barely survived.

Around 10 o'clock last night Aaron fixed the modem and connections.

Do you know what he had the audacity to do?

He played on the computer (stupid Google Earth) and wouldn't give it to me. Needless to say, I'll be looking up divorce attorneys on the internet today.