Beginning the Sunday ritual

It's Sunday night and I am on the couch watching football. All is right with the world.

Football season is my favorite time of year. You can take the girl out of Pittsburgh, but you can't take the Pittsburgh out of the girl. In Western PA, we eat, sleep and breathe football.

You may have heard of a few players from my neck of the woods.

Dan Marino?

Joe Montana?

Johnny Unitas?

Joe Namath?

Jim Kelly?

And those are just the quarterbacks.

I never went to a single, solitary basketball game in high school. You couldn't have pried me out of the freezing cold stadium when my Prexies took the field, marching band or not. Our conference championship was at Three Rivers Stadium, and I got the chance to march there twice. I never went to a Steelers game there, but you better believe a game at Heinz Field is on my bucket list.

I don't mind cheering for the Colts, a) to keep the hubby happy and b) as long as they aren't playing the Steelers. But when it comes time to dress the kids on Sunday, if I'm in charge, they're in black and gold. They can wear Colts gear on Wednesdays.

Here they are last year at the start of the season.

I need some black tape to cover up the name and number on my jersey (ahem, a certain QB under suspension), but my aunt put the kids' new gear in the mail yesterday. Only a few minutes into our last phone conversation, she asked me what sizes the kids are in. I'm thinking she wants to start the holiday shopping early.

"Oh we need to get rid of those jerseys," she said. "I can't have them wearing them. The media here is all 'Oh we love him,' but I'm not buying it. He's a pig."

That's my aunt. She's awesome.

The only downside is being out here, I only get to watch a few games a year. The first year we had satellite, we got a crazy deal on Sunday ticket. It's probably better that it's so darn expensive, because I would never leave our basement on Sundays. Steelers? Colts? I don't care, I'll watch anybody.

And I was cheering along with these three before the Super Bowl. Obviously no one in this house was cheering for very long once the game started.

From the way things are looking now, I can't imagine we'll be wearing black and gold into February. Stranger things have happened, though.

Ahh, shopping

We went back to school and birthday present shopping today. At an actual mall. Like with stores and stuff. I think the last time I was at the mall was for Christmas shopping.

I kid you not.

And of course, we were shopping for anyone but me. The hubby even got socks. I got nada. We walked through a Barnes and Noble, but I wasn't allowed to stop to look. Beyond depressing, people. I apparently am so shopping-deprived, I was staring longingly at clothes. I hate trying on clothes. Scary things happen in department store dressing rooms.

But luckily, I had kid shopping to distract me.

My kids have enough generous hand-me-downs that I think I'll only need to buy socks, underwear and shoes between now and well, forever. But even I, who am not a shopper, cannot go without getting SOMETHING for the start of school. So they each got a few shirts and new pairs of pants. And bi-annual trip to Stride Rite that the total makes the hubby shake his head in disbelief every time.

What can I say? My little man has very wide, very flat feet. My princess has tiny, pudgy feet. Both have feet that did not grow. I repeat, have not grown since we got them shoes in April.

I'm still trying to figure that one out.

We survived a trip to Toys R Us too, with minimal whining and no bribery necessary. We found what we needed and got a few ideas for upcoming birthdays and Christmas. Luckily we hit there right before lunch, so when it came time to leave "empty-handed" (ie, without a present for him), Nathaniel was fine once we mentioned food.

See? They like to eat. I guess their feet just aren't getting any of it.


Still counting down to DMB@Wrigley. This song is an eloquent description of Matthew's homeland, South Africa. It holds even more meaning for me, since I have seen the pain and beauty of Cape Town with my own eyes.

"Cry Freedom"

Hands and feet are all alike
But gold between divide us
Hands and feet are all alike
But fear between divide us

Cry freedom, cry
From deep inside where
We are all confined
Till we wave our hands

Ya, I'm a slacker

Much to my fan(s??) disappointment, I did not have time to blog yesterday. I was too busy mentally preparing myself to send my oldest to preschool.

No it's not the real thing yet. I have until Tuesday to really get ready.

We met with his teacher, turned in some forms and filled out a few more. He took his new John Deere backpack and ran as fast as his little legs would take him to his school. He picked out a cubby and put his name on it. The teachers oohed and aahed over his cuteness and it finally got to him when it came time to pick out a sticker to put next to his name for his seat. He got so shy he wouldn't even answer or look at me!

We assured them that he would be talking their ears off by next Thursday.

In the meantime, he'll have to settle for my ears.

"Busted Stuff"

I know she's gonna leave my broken heart behind her
I take what she's giving up
I know she's gonna leave this broken man behind her
I take what she's giving up

My little chatterbox

Now that Nathaniel does nothing but talk, I am over the whole "he didn't talk until he was 2 1/2" thing. He knew what was going on the whole time, he just chose not to say it. He is still playing dumb, but not about his vocab, that's for sure.

For Leah, my toddler worries are elsewhere: what will my darling princess climb or destroy today? At least she makes life interesting. And I'm not really that attached to our stuff anyway.

It is hard to gauge how far she is in her speech because big brother is always "interpreting" for her. Sometimes it's legit, sometimes it's "Mommy, Leah wants to go outside so I can ride my bike."

I told you the kid was smart.

On our last (and only) trip to the Ft Wayne zoo this summer, Leah was in heaven. She is our animal lover but it wasn't until then that I realized how many animal names she was trying to say. Point at an animal and she will try to repeat the sounds.

Here is a list of animal names she can say with no hesitation:
Cat
Dog
Horse
Pig
Duck
Bee
Turtle
Frog

Nathaniel could say peacock before he'd say cat or dog, and used animal sounds instead of names until he was 3. So she's got him beat on quantity, but maybe not quality.

Other than the obvious Momma and Dadda, she can also say Harley, snack, juice, milk, Jell-O, please, eye, belly, ball, eat, and so on.

She's a whiz in the grocery store too. Most of the time I'm yelling at Nathaniel to stop sprinting down the dairy aisle or put down every food item that happens to have a cartoon character on it. That would be how I discovered "Jell-O" in her repetoire.

Today, she walked up to me with her blanket (that the rest of us have affectionately nicknamed Blankie) and said something unintelligible and "wash?" She carries the darn thing everywhere and occasionally I throw it in the washer to make it pink again. I told her we wouldn't have time to give Blankie a bath today, but maybe tomorrow... or next week when Mommy is forced to tackle laundry again.

By then, who knows what she'll ask me to wash.

And since my little girl knows how to make me smile,

"Everyday"

Pick me up, love, from the bottom
Up onto the top, love, everyday
Pay no mind to taunts or advances
I'll take my chances on everyday

Left to right
Up and up and inside out right
Good love fight for everyday

Jump in the mud, mud
Get your hands filthy love
Give it up love, everyday

All you need is
All you want is
All you need is love

Back on the bookwagon

Surprise, surprise, as a mom I don't have a whole lot of "free" time. What little I have, I waste hours on the computer or mindlessly watching TV. I lost the ability to pay attention to a book for more than a page or two.

For me, that is beyond depressing. Pre-kids, I was a bookaholic. The hubby threatened to put me on a book diet because we were running out of space for all my treasures. The built-in bookcases he put in the basement have 30+ shelves. My perfect job would be one where I could sit and read books all day.

You get the idea.

So now, I am happy to say I am back to carrying a book with me thru the house in case the kids decide to play nicely for a few minutes and don't demand my attention. I'm not sure what changed. I'm sure it helps that I broke the lousy habit of picking up what would turn out to be not-so-good books. Credit can go to Bethany for that one, since she let me borrow "The Help" by Kathryn Stockett. I couldn't put it down. I finished all 464 pages in a few days, staying up well past my bedtime each night.

I've since devoured a few more books and I'm back to impulse buying books when I'm out with the kids. It may not help the budget but I certainly feel better!

So if you're looking for me this afternoon while my kids are quiet, you'll find me curled up with a book. I haven't finished one in a whole day and a half.

"Satellite" from Under the Table & Dreaming

Winter's cold spring erases
And the calm away by the storm is chasing
Everything good needs replacing

Mondays should be illegal

Today started off with a bang. Or a blech. And a yell or 20.

Leah woke up first so I got her juice and got ready to start the morning. While I was still putzing, she came over and asked for more. She can chug a sippy cup like a champ, so I didn't think anything of it. Poured her a little more and changed her diaper. She started fussing at me and then stood up and reached for me with an odd look on her face. I should have recognized the look from Nathaniel, but she caught me off guard. Next thing I knew, we were both wearing juice and "other stuff." Yuck.

Figuring she had just drank too much too fast (the 3 bowls of Cheerios she asked for afterward were a big indicator), we went to our last gymnastics class.

Nathaniel decided he wasn't in the mood to cooperate. He didn't want to listen to the teacher so I finally sent him to the parent chairs to sit down. When it came time for all the kids to get stickers, I called him over to avoid a meltdown.

Nice try, Ma.

He wouldn't look at the teacher or answer when she and I both asked if he wanted a sticker. So no sticker. He realized his mistake too late and screamed the entire way out of the Y, to the car, and 90% of the 30 min drive home. About 3 miles from home, he decided take off his seatbelt. I pulled to the side of the road, re-buckled him and bit my tongue until we pulled in the driveway.

Oh yeah. Fabulous start to the week. :-P But at least my little princess made me smile. She is loving gymnastics and has learned to say Elmo, among a zillion other words. The only downside? Eventually she will be 3 and ornery like her brother.

But man, I hope not.

"Lover Lay Down" from Under the Table and Dreaming

Spring sweet rhythm dance in my head
Slip into my lover's hands
Kiss me won't you kiss me now
And sleep I would inside your mouth
Don't be us too shy
Knowing it's no big surprise
That I will wait for you
I will wait for no one but you

Just another tired Sunday

It was a long week. And a long Saturday to follow. Luckily I have been finding what I needed from amazing people right when I needed it. I will hopefully catch up on some sleep tonight, with my hubby tucked in next to me, and have 2 more days of new crazy before we get settled back into our "old" crazy routine.

Another Sunday that feels like fall, leaves starting to turn, corn drying and being harvested. Another Sunday of thinking about how I got here and what comes next. Luckily I have great company along the way.

"Mother, Father" from Everyday

Mother, Father please explain to me
How this world has come to be
While still blessed in all the things we see
Such a sad, sad home for you and me

A little chafing?

You would think that after 3 years, 8.5 months of parenting, I would know that days never unfold the way I think they will. Or should.

Final morning of letting the hubby sleep and of course, it rains. Smart mommy that I am, I called my bestie and we trekked to the bounce house with our brood. Get 'em good and tired, come home for lunch and naps. Right?

Well, kinda.

The tired part DEFINITELY worked. My daredevil princess was jumping and climbing with the big kids. The area for kids 5 and under only (ya right, I seemed to be the only mom able to READ that sign) was too dull for her. As a result, she started sniffing and rubbing her nose and eyes after an hour. Big brother had about 20 more minutes of bouncing in him and then HE asked to go home.

Awesome, right?

Wrong.

They came home tired and hungry. That meant an outburst over nothing that was loud enough to wake Daddy, who had opted for an actual bed instead of the futon in the basement. Well lunch would help, right?

Sorta.

I fought with Nathaniel for 30 minutes before he finally stopped howling and fell asleep. When I peeked into Leah's room, she was curled up on her pillow, seemingly moments from slumber.

Whether his howling woke her or she did it herself, Leah was pounding on her door and hollering for Momma 20 min later. When I walked in, I smelled diaper cream. Never good. She had pulled the basket of diapers off the bookshelf, found the tube of A&D ointment and began liberally applying it EVERYWHERE, but mostly where it should go, near her butt. Fabulous.

I did a quick wipedown to get the first layer of grease off, changed her onesie, and tried to put her back to bed. I don't know why I do that. It's a lost cause.

So now she has been bathed but is still a little greasy and definitely very tired. I'm buying 45 more minutes of "quiet" with a Sesame Street movie, but she's never been known to just lay on the couch and veg.

I really hope she grows into that.

In the meantime, I'm hiding the diaper cream.


"Crush"
It's crazy, I'm thinking
Just as long as you're around
And here I'll be dancing on the ground
Am I right side up or upside down
To each other we'll be facing
By love we'll beat back the pain we've found

TGIF

It's Friday, people, and I am so glad. I will be even happier when it's Saturday at around 7 a.m., which is when the hubby will get off night shift. If the schedule holds, he'll have one more midnight to 7 a.m. next week, but I am just worrying about surviving this one.

I was trying to have a low-key day, after a low-key day yesterday to let my sickie get better. Nathaniel came down with a fever Wednesday night and wasn't quite up to speed yesterday either. He told me this morning his throat still hurt, so I felt justified in just running to Target (and an accidental detour through Starbucks - oops) and coming home. That way he could crash on the couch if he needed to.

Ya he didn't need to. He's currently running circles around our coffee table, a scarf tucked in the back of his shirt collar, pretending to be a superhero. I think Spiderman, but don't quote me on that.

I'd say he's fine.


"Two Step"

Hey my love I came to you with best intentions
You laid down and gave to me just what I'm seeking
Love, you drive me to distraction.

I am a dork

I DMB-ed out my phone. So everytime I get a text, I hear "Grace is Gone" which happens to have an awesome line:

"Excuse me please, one more drink. Could you make it strong? 'Cause I don't need to think. She broke my heart. My Grace is gone. One more drink and I'll move on."

For the rare time that somebody calls me, I hear the intro to "Ants Marching." The lyrics aren't as important to me as the music is in that song. When I was in high school, I played in a steel drum band. That's either ultra dorky or ultra cool, not sure which.

We took a trip to Baltimore to play at a music educators convention and of course, played with another school out there. Their director was a little more, ahem, hip, than our director. He arranged Ants Marching for them and it was probably the coolest thing I had ever heard in my 15 years. We all bugged Mr. S to ask for the arrangement so we could play it too, but he just smiled and grumbled. His idea of a "pop" song for us was Enya, and that was because his wife liked it. Not quite the same.

So yes, my band/music dorkiness runs deep. And now I'm passing it on. I put on Live at Luther College for Nathaniel while we played games the other day and he declared with every track, "Oh Mommy, that a good song. I like that song," and did his little 3 yr old white boy dance.

With us as parents, poor kid doesn't stand a chance.

30 Days of Dave

For my birthday this year, Craig is my favorite person. OK, normally he IS my favorite person everyday, if we have to get all technical and sappy here, but this year is different. We have 2 tickets to see one of my favorite bands EVER, Dave Matthews Band, at Wrigley Field ON my birthday.

My second favorite person this year will be my community band buddy Jen, who offered to bring her hubby over and watch our kids overnight. She says her hubby has the baby bug and she's trying to put the brakes on. Hey, I don't care the motive. She's awesome.

In honor of the bestest birthday present coming my way in a month, I am going to add a favorite Dave Matthews Band lyric quote to my page every day. It will be a mostly random list, but I do have one ultimate fav that I will save until the day before.

So for Day 1 I start with the first song I remember hearing on MTV (yes, when they used to play MUSIC) "What Would You Say."

Rip away the tears
Drink a hope to happy years
And you may find
A lifetime's passed you by

Garden dinner

Quite proud of dinner last night. It was healthy and most of it came straight from our garden!

Kids haven't been keeping up with eating all the cherry tomatoes, so I roasted 40 of them in the oven for about 30 min with a little EVOO, salt and sugar (yes, I totally just used a Rachael Ray reference. It's in the dictionary. I'm allowed). Let them cool a bit, then threw them in a covered bowl in the fridge until I was ready for dinner.

Once dinner time rolled around, I sauted garlic in EVOO and then added the tomatoes and some fresh chopped basil. Once it was heated through and the tomatoes were good and smooshed, I tossed it with some whole grain pasta and voila! Dinner. Leah ate most of hers (she still has trouble slurping) and Nathaniel asked for seconds.

Culinary success!

I copied the recipe from this web site, substituting basil for fresh oregano, since I had that on hand.

http://summer-recipes.suite101.com/article.cfm/roasted_cherry_tomato_pasta

Now if only I could use cucumbers like that....

Hint of Fall

It felt like fall today.

I'm telling myself that it was not just because I know so many friends whose kids are ready to head back to school tomorrow. Or that it was only because it wasn't 95 degrees with 95 percent humidity, as the cynic I married pointed out at dinner.

The sun was warm, but as soon as the wind picked up, it had a hint of a chill to it.

I'd say Mother Nature owes us a nice pleasant (read - storm-free) fall with lots of sunny days like today. Okay, well maybe a little rain for my farmer friends. But only at night.

Fall makes me happy and sad all at once. I love the cooler weather, the leaves, football season, and all that goes along with it, even sending my baby boy off to preschool in a few weeks.

But as soon as I start to see leaves change colors, I feel tears well up too. My mom loved autumn. She loved leaf peeping, and we would spend so many Saturdays just driving around, looking at the scenery. Fall was for trips to the zoo, and Meadowcroft Village, a old fashioned village in the hills of western PA. Fall was for curling up with a "buddy pal" (blanket) in our basement and watching old movies. Popcorn required.

She loved school too. Every year she was as excited as I was to start a new school year. We would make a production of buying and organizing school supplies and wrapping my textbooks when I brought them home. (Do they do that anymore??)

So this year we'll make a big deal of Nathaniel's first day, and take pictures in front of the lamp post, just like she used to do with me. We'll make fun trips to look at leaves and find piles to jump in. We'll have snuggly movie days when the days are too wet or too chilly to enjoy outside.

And Mom would love every minute of it.

Bando in training

That cool little dude is gonna make an awesome bando someday

Friday rant

I was all ready to get on here and recant my whining from yesterday. I know I'm lucky that a) my hubby is employed and b) his job doesn't send him away for more than 8 hours at a time.

But then I had my Friday.

I get cranky on Fridays. The kids and I are tired of each other and our wonderful routine and ready for something "different." That is normally playdate morning, but this time we headed to the zoo in 95-degree heat with one of my best friends.

Sweating aside, it was an awesome day. The kids (ages 6, 4, 3, 19 mo and 18 mo) were great and we had them so worn out there were no protests when we left. I'm going to spend time later editing and posting some great photos.

It all started to unravel when I had to stop at the store for unsweetened, sliced, strawberries, which apparently 2 of our local stores don't carry anymore. Couldn't wait for the hubby to get home (ala yesterday's rant), so off we went. The wailing started as soon as I said no to the car cart, continued through the freezer section, in line, in the parking lot and halfway home. Came home to: a dishwasher needing emptied, a sink full of dishes, and the leftovers I thought I could heat quickly for the kids' dinner were eaten.

While I was processing all that, meltdown #2 started. Nathaniel peed on himself and the rug in front of the toilet. I told him to strip and go upstairs for a bath, which both my sweatballs needed anyway. More wailing. Didn't stop until he was hosed down, sent to his room with a towel and clothes, his sister was bathed, dressed and downstairs waiting for her dinner (which was mini pizzas on leftover hamburger buns).

Man was I really wishing for a call to the bullpen right about 5:30. But my relief was only an hour and a half into his 8-hour shift at work. Sigh. And really, the crazy moment didn't last that long. But it was another time where I wondered if it was all as stressful as my brain made it out to be. Did we survive? Yeah. Did my kids end up calming down (mostly)? Yeah. Did they ask to go to bed early? Actually yes. But that was an hour ago and I still hear Nathaniel on his train table and Leah pounded on her door about 10 minutes ago.

Oh yeah and then I dropped the start of the dessert that I needed the strawberries for as it was coming out of the oven. And we're out of pretzels. The substitutes should get here around 1 a.m.

No way I'm waiting up for that. That can be the start of my Saturday rant. :-)

In case I wasn't crazy enough...

For the rest of this month, I am gonna be off. I have just enough Type A personality in me that I like a predictable schedule. Throw too many surprises at me and I don't know up from down.

The powers that be at the hubby's work have decided to run three shifts to meet a deadline. That means that my nice, predictable daytime schedule will be in the crapper. Today and tomorrow, he's on 4 to midnight. Next week it's all third shift.

Yes. I said THIRD SHIFT.

Which means that he will be getting home and ready for bed right when Thing 1 and Thing 2 wake up and start making noise. If you've ever tried to have a phone conversation with me during the day, well, chances are you haven't because it's usually cranked to 11 in here. I don't like to subject too many people to that.

This is the guy who can't go back to sleep once he is up and doesn't nap. Ya, this is gonna be great.

Kids get cranky when he's gone for too long. Heck they get cranky some normal days when he's not home when they think he should be. I'm Mom. I am only entertaining for so long.

I predict 4 cranky people living here and PB&J for dinner. Should make it interesting. Not that it was ever dull.

So far so good...

...but I'm not ready to declare victory. Tomorrow is another day.

Big Girl Bed

Pray for my sanity folks. I don't have much of it left and I'm afraid tonight's events might do me in.

Leah is in a toddler bed.

Yes, my baby girl is 19 months and in her very own bed. My baby girl who has loving nicknames like Monkey Girl and Godzilla is unrestrained in her bedroom.

I'm gonna need A LOT of high shelves.

We had been talking about moving her out of the crib when she tried to climb out. Man, she got close.

We talked about putting her in Nathaniel's room, but the logistics of a barely-potty trained 3-year-old with a crazed 18-month-old changed our minds in mere seconds.

She spent the weekend in a pack n' play in big brother's room so a friend and her daughter could use the room and crib. When Leah spied the twin mattress Jen had slept on, she yelled "mine," laid down on it, and said "shhh!"

She's too darn cute to refuse.

When I put her in her crib that night, she kicked and screamed, which she rarely does.

She was done with that crib stuff.

And really, I get to the point where I'm tired of talking and ready to just do. So when I told the hubby a simple bed would not, in fact, break the bank, off we went to Target after dinner. Leah picked out a comforter with kitties and puppies on it and talked to it the entire time we were in the store. She hugged the package while Daddy assembled the bed. The sheets are bright pink but I guess I'll deal with that.

Just like I'll deal with little eyes peeking out from behind her door when she's supposed to be in bed. And the little feet running back to bed when she hears me coming. And the dresser drawers she will surely open and empty when left to her own devices for too long.

And the fact that my little baby isn't a baby anymore. Who let that happen?

Couch guilt

After the busiest weekend of my summer, you can find me on my couch. But I'm not so happy about it.

We just hosted 30 of our friends for a cookout with great food, drink and lots and lots of laughing. And staying up until 2 a.m. playing Trivial Pursuit and Outburst.

So needless to say, I'm dragging a bit today. But I have extra towels and sheets from our overnight guests on top of our own mountain of laundry, dishes that need washed and put away, extra chairs in the dining room and floors that are showing the signs of 30 people coming in and out.

Don't get me wrong, I had fun and it was totally worth it. But the aftermath will drive me nuts until the house is put back together. For years, my mother and grandmother told me I couldn't relax until things were put away. It kills me to sit down after dinner before the dishes are done. Old habits die hard.

But I don't feel like cleaning. And I couldn't get anything done in peace anyway with two overtired cranky kiddos.

So here I sit, curled up under a blanket and guilt. At least it's warm.

Party Prep = tranquilizers

It doesn't take much for me to make myself crazy. This week is a prime example.

We are getting ready for our big house party/cookout/how many random groups of people can we force to interact in out backyard explosion known as Fryman Fun Fest.

It started out innocently enough. We were the first of our friends to get married and settle down with a real, honest-to-goodness house. So how did we celebrate? Invite all our single or dating apartment-dwelling friends to sit in our backyard to drink, eat, drink, play volleyball, eat, drink and kick each other's butts in Trivial Pursuit.

Then we started making friends here, so the invite list grew. And grew. And grew. Until last year 60 people descended on the house. In case that wasn't enough to send me into fits, it was cold and rainy. Not the hottest weekend of the year like normal. So all of those people had to fit INTO our house. Luckily our garage is huge. But I still was ready to hide in my room all afternoon, rocking back and forth until the house was quiet again.

So this year the invite list was smaller - about 40 people. There will be five overnighters. They have been friends for years and know my hatred of cleaning. But I still have the need to try to make my house spotless. I have two kids, two animals and a husband. That is impossible. It's like brushing your teeth in the middle of an Oreo. But I make myself crazy trying to do it anyway.

The food will be another headache. We don't try to provide everything, just burgers and brats (learned that year two), and a few staples that I would have a riot on my hands if I didn't make. But the morning of, I'll start pacing the kitchen, fretting that everyone will go hungry and hate us and never speak to us again.

I never said I'm logical when I'm crazy.

My dear friend Jen put it in perspective. She reminded me that nobody will care what the house looks like, or what food we have, so long as there is beer. And the poor dear doesn't even like beer that much.

So there will probably be fur on my furniture, crumbs on my floor and if we're lucky, enough food and drink to keep everyone content for a weekend. If not, there's always Walmart. The city folk love the hitching post anyway.

Defeat

Here it is, my white flag.

I surrender.

I have no control over that fuzz on my hubby's chin. Enough of his friends have said it looks good, so what do I know?

I'll just chalk that up as one more thing I can't do anything about, including the weather, my chocolate allergy, and the ever-expanding pile of laundry in my house.

Speaking of, I have a load or 12 to fold.

Today rocks.

To goatee or not to goatee

My hubby is growing a goatee.

This is a problem. I have very strong feelings about facial hair, and none of them are good.

(Disclaimer - to any of my friends who have facial hair, I still love you. I'd just love you more if you shaved.)

Once upon a time, when hubby and I were dating, I studied abroad for a semester and left him at home, pining away. He used the opportunity for a trial separation from his razor.

Who did he need to impress while I was gone?

The problem was that at the ripe old age of 19, there were a few spots where hair just refused to grow. After about a month, I got a desperate email from my roommate, begging me to tell him to shave.

I did. And he did.

Since then he has been good, albeit shaving as little as possible. Most people don't notice until it's been a few days. But I notice.

Then a mutual friend decided to let a beard grow while his wife was out of town. The wife came back and was OK with the experiment (at least for now) and I think that's what planted the seed in the hubby's brain.

Sure enough, yesterday morning he came downstairs nicely showered and clean-shaven... EXCEPT for his chin. I gave him a look, but it didn't have the desired effect. He did NOT turn around and go back upstairs to fix the spot he OBVIOUSLY missed. He laughed and went about his day. Anytime I would try the look again, that's all he would do. Laugh.

So now, no matter what he ACTUALLY thinks of this hairy experiment, he will keep it around to irk me. And to prove to all of those friends that after 10 years, he can in fact grow facial hair.

At least he still can't grow a mustache.