I totally need to get one of these

http://www.japantrendshop.com/shouting-vase-holds-your-anger-p-293.html

This weird contraption makes your shouts come out like whispers, reducing the volume of of everything you say. I totally need to get two of these for my kids. Think I could strap them on somehow? Their use will be mandatory, of course. Especially at 6am!

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I'm not sure I'd tell her the truth...

Thanks to Jan Mayr for sharing this amazing picture of Seeker and Gem (who's all grown up now) by Cindy Nodland (and allowing me to have fun with it). Other possible captions include "Is there something caught in my teeth?" and "Does this look odd to you?" Got other ideas? Share them in the comments section!

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I probably need some help

The other day I noticed a teenage gymnast hanging out in the YMCA locker room, and I was totally jealous, but not of her youth or of her fit body. I was jealous because I noticed that she actually has time to paint her toenails!

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Watch out! Zebra Cat!

A rare Zebra Cat has taken The Girl's place at our house. I'm very afraid!

Yes, she wore the dress and leggings (which did not come together; they were a "lucky" match) to school. The mask stayed at home, unfortunately, but she topped it off with pink boots, so I think it was an overall win. Or something.

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This cup's for you

It's been a while since I blogged about my achy bladder and fire-breathing urethra. This is partially because, thanks to several medications and a series of procedures, I've been having some good days mixed in with some not-so-good ones (rather than day after day of pretty damn awful). It's nice to not be thinking about my bladder every second. (You probably don't think about yours at all.  What's that like?)

Today I went in for a doctor's visit and instillation (a procedure where they fill my bladder with a drug cocktail). Although I probably should have, I hadn't taken any of the pain medicines that make my pee a frightening, bowl-staining shade of orange or weird blue, so today's urine cup looked like this:




Unfortunately, the stabby, who-jammed-a-straw-up-my-urethra feeling that started out of nowhere after last night's swim was further aggravated by the catheter that delivers the medications during an instillation. So now I've taken two pain pills and I'm counting down for my third. I'm pretty sure that's the definition of irony.

It's still better than it was six months ago. So there's that!

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I'm not suggesting that you go out and get a pet moose.

But, if you did have a pet moose, then you should totally let him in the house. Because that's super safe.

The music in this video is a total win. 

P.S. When he folded himself all down to rest on the rug to watch TV... that was when I knew I'd have to post this on my blog. You can't not think that's hilarious!

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Juanita the Weasel

Fans of Jenny Lawson, The Bloggess, probably already know about her newest addition, a taxidermied weasel named Juanita (read about Juanita here). Since Jenny inspires creativity in her readers, she provided a blank photo of Juanita for us to caption.  And despite the eleventy tons of work I should be doing, I did this instead.

Here, I give you Juanita doing her Nancy Kerrigan impression:

You're welcome. 

For those of you coming here from thebloggess.com, thanks! Please stick around and read another entry. Here's one: There's something kind of right about this.

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ADD much?

Today was really cold for central Floridians. It was maybe 40 degrees as The Boy, The Girl, and I trudged our way through our church parking lot. The Boy clutched his Bible, on loan from his Sunday School teacher, in his left hand.

The Boy: It's so cold! My hands are FREEZING!


The Girl: I know! My hands are cold too.


Me: Well, you can put your hands in your pockets. That'll help.

The Boy stuck his right hand in his pocket and then, inexplicably, let go of the Bible to jam his left hand into his other pocket.

Me: DUDE! 


The Boy [who was scooping the Bible off the asphalt about one second after it hit]: It's OK, it's OK!

He dusted it off.

The Boy: See? It's fine.


Me: DUDE! Did you forget you were holding that? [Starting to laugh.]


The Boy: [Laughing] Yeah, I guess I did!


Me: If that's not an example of an attention problem, I don't know what is!

Everybody laughed hard, and we forgot we were cold for a few minutes. Win for all!

No Bibles were harmed in the making of this blog post.

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I should have named this blog "Crap My Kids Say"

Yesterday, I posted about a conversation with The Boy that left my head spinning. Today, it was The Girl, who is five, making me laugh. We went to visit the Jimmy B. Keel library and we stopped to look at a display of photos and other memorabilia on the wall.

Me: Oh look, honey! This is the man they named this library for.


The Girl: His name is Library???

I could hardly stop laughing to explain.

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There's something kind of right about this

Recently, The Boy, who is in second grade, was asked to write a story with a writing prompt that went something like this:

Sometimes people are sad. Write about a time when you felt sad.


And then we had this conversation:

Boy: I've never felt sad.

Me: What?

Boy: I've never felt sad.

Me: What about when the dogs died? I guess maybe you were to young to really remember that.

Boy: Yeah.

Me: Wait! What about when Mee-maw [his 91-year-old great grandmother] died?

Boy: That wasn't sad.

Me: What???

Boy: She was OLD. It's not sad when people die because they are old. It's sad when people die because of a DISEASE.

Me:

Me: Well, then you are going to have to make something up. That's what they want you to do on these writing prompts. If you haven't experienced what they are asking about, you have to make it up.

Boy: Fine. Then I'll write about how my grandmother died. She was eaten by a bear. AND she was only 50.

Me:

Me: I hope you can make that work.

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So cool

I drew this on the bag for my son's goldfish snacks and now he's going to be the envy of all the other second graders whose moms aren't nearly as cool as I am. Or something.

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