Fashion Models:
And Another Thing

About fifteen years ago, my husband and I sat in the living room of our first home with a realtor. We discussed in depth what sort of new home we were looking to buy, once we sold our house. I pulled out a small real estate book - complete with house photos and descriptions. I flipped through the pages and noticed this one particular home that I really liked. I took my little book and walked over to the realtor and said, "This house. This is what I want."

The realtor looked down at the brochure. And then, he looked down his nose at me, curled his lip and said, "Wouldn't we all."

The photo in that brochure was of a house behind a large brick wall with security gates on the front. I liked the look of the house because of the wall, as I had two small children, a dog and a husband with redneck tendencies (loves working on old cars). While this was a relatively old house, this seemed like exactly the kind of house we were looking for.

We promptly dismissed that realtor and coincidentally went on to buy that house and have lived in that house - the one that realtor presumed we could not afford - the one that realtor assumed was beyond our means - for the past fifteen years.

Never judge a book by its cover or a house by its security gate.

This was not a fancy house. This was not a house beyond our means. But, at the time, the realtor looked at the picture of this house with the large brick wall and security gate and promptly decided that we were too young for such a house - too poor.

This past week I went to north Texas visiting colleges with my twin daughters. These are the same twins that prefer to wear t-shirts to blouses, athletic shorts to skirts and Converse sneakers to ballet flats.

We toured a fine university in the morning and I requested a conference with one of the counselors right after our tour was done. Courtney, Chloe and I went in and made ourselves comfortable in his office. We went through our list of questions about the university and how it might offer academic programs my girls are interested in.

It was pretty clear, early on, that the counselor had his own ideas about my girls - about me. Mind you - he never asked about their qualifications, their test scores, their class ranking or anything else about their resumes. He simply offered answers in a tone - while well desquised behind a well rehearsed smile - that was condescending.

At one point, I inquired about academic scholarships - like some of the other universities offer to high achieving prospective freshman. He quickly responded by throwing out high SAT/ACT scores, high class rankings, blah, blah, blah, that a prospective student would have to meet before even being considered for "such" scholarships. And then, he sort of dismissed the whole academic scholarship discussion.

I kept my eyes on his smug face and my mouth shut. When we left, I never told my girls, but to myself I thought - I guess UT or Texas State or any of the other ten universities we are considering, might just be thrilled to take my - basketball shorts, t-shirt, Converse wearing twins ... and offer them substantial academic scholarships ... when they find out that these two girls are in the top 6% of their class of 600+ and their ACT and SAT scores rank them in the top 98% in the nation.

Never judge a teenager by the clothes they wear! And, seriously, never do it in front of the mother paying for the college tuition because ... she might just scratch your university off the list based on your arrogant attitude alone.

We know when others look down their noses at us and ... they know when they are doing it. We didn't buy that house fifteen years ago just to spite that realtor, it was merely a coincidence. But I kept that real estate brochure. It was my way of reminding myself of what it felt like to be looked down upon and also how it felt to prove somebody wrong.

(The house is the one circled on the lower left)

I don't know yet where my girls will be going to college, but what I do know is this ... they will probably still be wearing Converse sneakers and basketball shorts. Maybe even a tattoo or piercing in their nose or eyebrow. And ... they will likely graduate in the top of the class because that is who they are. They are not the clothes they wear, but they have their own styles, are paving their own paths in this world and are very confident and comfortable with who they are.

Alexis is in my bathtub taking a bath and watching TV. I hear the water splash. I hear her spitting water from her mouth. I hear voices and songs coming from the TV. I hear her sing made-up songs. And then suddenly, she screams, very loud, "Woo Hoo! Oh ... I've been there." Not at me. Not at anyone. She just yells these words at the TV.

Do you think they realize they are doing this? Living in their own little worlds? Singing, splashing and yelling at the TV?

I saw my nephew recently. I said, "How are you doing?"

He starts to answer and my brother-in-law bends down and whispers something in his ear and then my nephew mumbles ... "Fine."

I look over at my sister and she laughs. She says, "He's been talking to him about that. Told him to just say fine, when people ask - not to go into a whole long story, 'Oh, not great ... not really liking school. Lost my Gameboy, blah, blah, blah.'" We laughed.

My brother-in-law says, "Yeah, people don't want to hear all that crap - told him to just say fine - like everyone else."

I, of course, told my nephew that he was always welcome to tell me all of his crap, but secretly supported this line of thinking on my brother-in-law's part.

Sometimes, I walk by Alexis' bedroom and see her sitting at her little table, coloring. Often, I hear her say things - complete sentences, complete conversations. Sometimes she is singing - songs she's heard or, more often, made-up melodies. If I ever ask her who she is talking to or what she's talking about, she will act as though she wasn't talking or singing at all; like she feels strange about being caught.

When old people do these things ... talk to themselves or go on and on about crap going on in their lives ... we call them senile or worse. When our little children do this ... we find it endearing and adorable.

It is not normal. It is fine to sing a little song or hum a tune ... but, the random talking is bizarre.

On the upside ... I do it too. One day when I was walking out of my bedroom, I heard a voice coming from the TV say, "Would you like to live Danielle Steele's life?" Bending over to pick up a pile of dirty clothes off of the floor and without missing a beat, I yelled back at the TV, "YES. I. WOULD!" and then walked on out of my room. Alexis comes by her insanity honestly.

-

Over the course of the past several months, since I've been blogging - there is something I have come to realize.

It is not something I want to admit.

It makes me downright - CROTCHITY - when I think about it too much.

What it is ....

Is that ....

I can't hardly say the words ....

Okay, okay, okay ... I'm one of the oldest moms on the blogging block (*hangs head and sobs pathetically into her lacy hankie*).

I am!!

Now ... I'm not saying how old I am and that's just because I don't want anyone to think they can start pushing me around because I'm "elderly" - ya know. But ... for those of you who haven't figured my out my age by now - take my word for it - I am mostly hanging out with a bunch of "baby-mommy-bloggers" - and I mean that in the most envious way!

So ... on occasion, I will go to someone's site and they will have one of those celebrity look-alike thingys. You know - where you can find out what celebrity you look like. Every single comparison I have ever seen of one of my young-mama-blogging friends, has these women compared to the most beautiful and youthful celebrities - it's a no-brainer, really!

So ... just out of curiousity, the other day ... I decided to give it a try - do one myself ...

See who I looked like - Me - the old-mommy-blogger ...

And ...

I was - to say the least - A BIT DISAPPOINTED!!

Honestly - there were two "older" celebrities I could have chosen to put on this wheel (you choose 8 of 10), but opted not too - because they were old and ugly! I chose these "beauties" above - well, because ... those were my choices (*hangs head and sobs like an old woman into her lacy hankie*).

Now ... some of these celebs aren't all that bad looking (except for that Celia Cruz picture - what the ...?), it's just that I apparently look like just ANYBODY! I might look a bit like any one of these people - but none of these people look like each other at all - like on the other celebrity look-alike tests I've seen on other sites. Usually, if you are blonde - then all your celebs are usually blonde too, about the same age and be-autiful. But ... mine? No. Mine are like - CONFUSING? Like the machine couldn't quite figure me out - couldn't quite get a GOOD match on me (*hangs head and sobs like an UGLY old woman into her lacy hankie*).

So ... I decided to try it again - using a different photo of myself ...

Thought for sure it would turn out differently - make me feel better ...

But .......

I AM NOT KIDDING!

WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON?!?

It just got CREEPY AND WAAAAY worse!

Okay, so is there an upside here?

Let's see ...

On the upside ... First, in order to analyze this mess ... I have to eliminate those characters I don't even know, like - Celia Cruz, Mylene Farmer, Helena Carter, Darius Milhaud, Pierre Bouvier, John Dewey, Nikki Cox and Franz Lehar - GOOD LORD!

Of those celebs I am left with - let's just just be HONEST - I am no Jennifer Aniston, Lucy Lawless, Kim Cattrall or Oprah Winfrey - HELLO!

And ... I can't sing or dance worth a crap, so that pretty much eliminates the lovely Wynonna Judd and Liza Minnelli.

So ... now I am down to - James Stewart and Monica Lewinsky (Am I a stuck in an episode of The Twilight Zone here?).

Okay - just because I am a WOMAN I am going to eliminate James Stewart.

So ... that leaves me with - YOU GOT IT ...

THE BIGGEST CELEBRITY SLUT IN THE HISTORY OF THE UNITED STATE'S GOVERNMENT!

That's who I look like - Monica Lewinsky - minus the cigar (tee hee).

(*holds head up high - wipes tears from her obviously masculine face - tells herself the machine must have malfunctioned or that there was some sort of young-mommy-bloggers conspiracy going on - puts her hankie in her bra - decides to concentrate on the fact that Jennifer Aniston was in the mix - makes note to self that lots of men look like women - swears to not submit a third picture - knows her odds are not good at this point - wonders if Bill Clinton would notice the resemblance - wipes that thought out of her mind - thought is still there - tries harder to wipe that thought out of her mind - takes hankie out of her bra - sobs pathetically ... like a SLUT CAUGHT WITH HER SKIRT HIKED UP ... IN THE OVAL OFFICE*)

On more than one occasion, I have heard my husband say, "What do you want to eat?" on a Saturday afternoon, to Little Billy or Alexis in the kitchen.

If I hear this, I will run as fast as I can into the kitchen, step in front of my husband and say, "No, No, No ... you don't ask them, 'What do you want to eat?'" looking at my very confused husband like he has lost his mind. Then I will pull him aside to explain. "You have to offer them something. You can't give them the choice of ALL the foods in the whole world, for craps sake. Haven't you been watching how I do this all these years? You need to say something like, 'Do you want a peanut butter sandwich or a tuna fish sandwich?"

My husband doesn't seem to understand how long it has taken me to condition these children. I have had to impress upon him constantly that I will not stand by and let him undo all the habits I have successfully managed to change and control. And giving a choice between two specific sandwiches or maybe Spaghetti O's, is all my children expect to be offered. They are not given the choice of ALL the foods in the ENTIRE world!

If, for some reason, I do not manage to catch my husband before he has mindlessly spun this choice web, I have seen where he has been convinced to go to all the trouble of defrosting meat, forming it into a patty and grilling his boy a hamburger. And, I have to give him credit for taking the time to do this for his child, really, but ... I am torn between allowing him to do this sort of thing or correcting him on the way I think things should be done. Because I am the one ... who has to prepare these children most of their future meals, and I do not want them to expect that I am going to defrost meat, form it into a patty and grill them a burger ... every single lunch (I AM JUST NOT!) - I opt for ... setting my husband straight.

On the upside ... This is only one, of many reasons, these children like their father better than me ... and why I am completely convinced that ... I am smarter than him. The choice web - I avoid it at ALL COSTS!

Thank you ALL for your kind comments and support or my last post - I can't tell you how much it means to me to have so many great friends and I hope you know that I am always here for each of you! Thank you!!

I will have a regular post for tomorrow and I look forward to reading all of yours as well - thanks for hearing me out!

See you later.

I have quite a following on my site - right?

Why?

I have had many people comment or e-mail me - over the past 4 months - asking me this very question. Why? How did I do it? Why me?

On one hand, I am a little insulted by this question, as I have dedicate a huge amount of time and creativity into my writing and I would like to think that a percentage of visitors come to my site to read what I have written - hear what I have to say. I'd like to think that they think I am smart and funny and offer entertaining stories and useful information. I like to think that I have earned their respect and therefore they look forward to reading about my children and family and that they feel invested in not only my life, but in my success as a blogger - as well.

I know some of the reasons why I have the following that I have.

I have worked my butt off for 4 months! I have visited thousands of sites. I have left thousands of comments. I have written hundreds of stories and tried very, very hard to make those stories fun and interesting and creative and well written. I have analyzed ways to improve my traffic and even implemented some of those tools. I have tried my very best to fit into this world of Mommy Bloggers and I have done that. I have done everything possible to make friends and make those friends realize how much I need them and how much they mean to me. I have made many, many good friends.

One of the reasons I have so many visitors to my site is because I went out and brought them to me. Many of the friends I have - are ones that I went out and found and the reasons they keep coming back - I believe - is because I continue to support each and every one of those friends. I would be very surprised if any one of my bloggy friends were able to say that this is not true. And, yes, I have some visitors that came across my blog on their own and are now also my friends, but they too would have to say that I am equally as loyal to them by constantly staying in touch and visiting their sites as well.

Everyone of you that has a blog knows just how difficult it is to keep up with a blog. Keep up with posting and visiting other sites. It is nearly impossible to do it every single day. But ... I have tried to do it. I have committed, every single day, to visiting other sites and reading and leaving comments. I visit every single site that leaves me a comment (some days as many as 80 sites). In addition, I visit other sites along the way. In any given day, I can visit 100's of sites. Why do I do this? I do it - to show my loyalty and to encourage loyalty to me. And ... it has been very rewarding.

I think that I have a good site. I think I have a unique format and I have worked very hard to create a positive forum. It is who I am and it works for me because I have tried very hard to build my site on the foundation of strong beliefs. I do not often complain in the normal "ranting" fashion - while I do have many complaints (just like everyone) in my life - just because that is how I have chosen to write on my site. I do complain - but I try to put a funny spin on the story and I do that for several reasons. One, because it often makes for a better story and two, because if I give myself permission to rant - I am afraid I will run crazy ranting all of the time!

I am not perfect - nor do I have perfect kids or do we live a hysterically funny life at my house. I am generally a serious person and yet I have always considered myself to be creative and through my writing I am able to stretch my creative tendencies by writing stories that are funny or touching or stimulating or whatever! I work constantly on my writing techniques to develop new and interesting ways to tell a story. Having this blog has enabled me to see my life (through my writing of these stories) in a different way and see my children and the raising of them - through an entirely new view. I work daily to find a story to write and sometimes I come up with a good story and sometimes I don't. But, I have dedicated a lot of time and energy into finding and documenting these stories for my pleasure and for the pleasure of those that visit my site.

I sometimes feel as though the success I have experienced on my site - creates bad feelings (I won't go into why I say this - but there have been incidents that have occurred). I have never, not even once, used the success of my site to hurt any other blogger. I have tried to do just the opposite by offering many bloggers advise on how I have accomplished my success and been very open to helping anyone that asks. I have always been loyal to every single one of my bloggy friends and invested many hours into getting to know each one individually as best I can. I have always felt embarrassed to post awards I have been given, but feel obliged to recognize those that give me the awards and happy to introduce those individuals to my readers. Awards given from one blogger to another are indeed nice, but they are also a means for bloggers to create traffic to their own sites and I don't have a problem promoting other people's sites and am happy to do that.

I, like everyone, love to receive comments on my posts. I love the feedback and enjoy seeing the ideas or thoughts that something I have written can provoke. I love feeling like I touch people through my stories and my writing. I love telling a good story and love being able to share my children and our lives with all of you. I do not like feeling, though, that any success I have had is in anyway making someone else feel inadequate or unsuccessful. I know very well that there are many bloggers out there that are telling just as many great stories and writing them as well or better than me - that do not have the following I have. I visit many of those bloggers and read those stories. I support those bloggers. I have always searched out bloggers that were hurting for readers, because I know very well how hard it is to create a following and I have made tremendous efforts to find and help those people. I have done this intentionally, as I feel that everyone should be offered the same respect and opportunities as I have enjoyed and I do not hesitate to offer my site and its success as leverage for new or struggling bloggers.

I seldom write my posts "directly" to my audience. I write my stories as if they are "articles" and format my posts in the form of dialog or narritive - I do this on purpose. I am not the sort of blogger that offers a run-down of my daily events or intricate daily details about my children or myslef. I offer some of this information through my stories - but I do not "talk" right to my audience - like I am right now. I have done that on purpose - it is the format or technique I have chosen for my blog. I seldom ever respond to a comment in my comments. I have, on my site, tried to keep a distance between myself and my stories - I do this on purpose. I have attempted to create a site that stands on its own - the stories stand on their own - without my daily moods or personal traits influencing the stories. While I am obviously the one writing the stories and my picture is right there on the front page - I write my posts as a story that offers just a "glimpse" into our lives and who we are - who I am. I do this intentionally and believe that this is part of the reason that people may feel like they really don't know me.

My goal in blogging is to continue to write my stories. To continue to create even more of a following and I won't apologize for that. I want to continue to make friends and support as many people as I can possibly support. I want to only feel that my contribution is positive.

I know there are those people that - no matter what I say or what any of us do - will look for reasons to use my success against me. I can only say that I enjoy the success because I have worked very hard for it. I will continue to work hard for it - as long as I feel it is positive for me.

I began this post - because I was frustrated. I do not want to feel frustrated at anytime - having this blog - that has been such a gift in my life. I felt it was necessary to answer these questions and to also describe some of the feelings I have been experiencing.

I hope I have your continued support and want to impress that you certainly have mine.

If you drive up my driveway and look to the right, this is what you will see:

And this:

This is my side of the driveway - the right side.

Now ... if you drive up the same driveway, and look to the left ... you will see this:

And this:

This is my husbands side of the driveway - the left side.

And ... these aren't even all of his cars. He also has a Corvette (in the garage), a van, a bucket truck, a work truck and a 1977 Lincoln that is stored in a neighbor's garage, down the street - soon to be moved to his side of the driveway.

This is my husband's hobby ---- BECOMING A REDNECK!

On the upside ... I don't think he realizes that this is a BIG OL' REDNECK MESS. That's okay - that's what he has me for --- to tell him that THIS IS A BIG OL' MESS AND IF HE DOESN'T GET SOME OF THESE CARS OUTTA HERE, I AM GOING TO START PUTTING ALL THOSE WHITE SOCKS IN THE FLOWER BEDS AS MULCH (See post: I'll Be The Talk Of The Town ... And Not In A Good Way)!!!

Before I had kids ... I had certain ideas.

Almost every single thing I thought I knew ... was wrong.

Almost every single thing I thought I would never do ... I have done.

Almost every single thing I thought I would never say ... I have said.

Almost every single illusion ... has been dispelled.

The one and only thing I can say that has saved me from all-out-insanity is ...

THE TELEVISION!!

And ... while I truly believe that the one in our van is the most ingenious, life-saving, brilliant, worth-every-single-last-penny, invention ... I am just as grateful for all those TVs just plugged into the walls of our humble house!!

I am.

I don't care if you agree with me.

It is the one thing ... if you told me you were going to take every single item out of my house and I could only choose one thing to keep - I'd give you my nice cozy bed, I'd give you my lap-top (reluctantly), I'd give you my CDs and radios and jewelry and clothes and shoes and nic-nacs and furniture and rugs and toilets and tubs and books and dishes and dogs and cats ... and there they'd be ... my four children, perfectly happy, sitting on the cold tile floor, staring at the screen of our TV - naked - with big ol' smiles on their grubby, dirty faces.

On the upside ... Really, I'm glad I don't have to choose, as I'd be really hard to live with without my clothes and bed and toilet and tub and lap-top and jewelry and lap-top and shoes ...

One day, late in the afternoon at our house, my nephew was standing in our kitchen with my son. I was cooking (an unusual event around here) and my son asked, What are you cooking for dinner?" in a very interested tone. My nephew said, "She's not cooking dinner," in a very confident tone. I said, "Well ... it just so happens ... I am cooking dinner," in defense of myself.

I was not offended by the comment my nephew made, as it is certainly quite an unusual sight to see me cooking and he was obviously confused by my actions. Now, mind you, he is not often around to see the times I actually do attempt to make these dinners for my family, but he is around enough to conclude that, unlike his mother, I am not much of a cook.

I'm not much of a cook at all. I don't like to cook and I'm not interested in learning new or better ways to improve my cooking. I can do many things and I am pretty good at a lot of things - cooking is not one of those things. I do what I can and what I have to, to feed my family - but no more. I can bake just about anything and have been known to do that often, but I am a miserable cook. I am sorry for that.

I am a good house-keeper though. What I lack in cooking skills, I make up for in cleanliness. I think my family would probably trade their clean rooms or bathrooms for a decent meal every dinner time - but it's not ever gonna happen.

I watch the cooking channel on TV a lot, but this does not make me a better cook. My family finds it amusing that I am so obsessed with watching this channel, knowing the poor cook that I am. I'm not sure what it is about these cooks that fascinates me ... but, I watch this channel all the time. My kids watch it too. I think we are all hoping that one day it will finally hit me - this habit of cooking interesting meals in thirty-minutes-or-less. It will never happen. I prefer to watch Rachael Ray slave over a pot of boiling water and turn out these fabulous meals with catchy names like Fiesta Summer Chicken or Tomato-Basil Meatloaf with Baby Garlic Potatoes, than to spend the time creating them myself.

On the upside ... Thanksgiving dinner will be at my house this year, but not to worry ... I'm really only in charge of the rolls, the mashed potatoes, the drinks, the ham and the turkey. That's right ... THE TURKEY! Can you say salmonella poisoning? (*hangs head in shame like a Culinary Institute drop-out*).

My husband and I share responsibilities around our house. One of the responsibilities that I have relinquished (delegated) to my husband is the taking of our animals (2 dogs and 3 cats) to the vet, when necessary.

I however, have taken on the responsibility of administering the medications, such as heart worm pills, to the animals, when needed. To remind myself to give the heart worm pills to our dogs, I draw a tiny little red heart - on my calendar - one each month.

The other day I was sitting at my desk, doing this drawing of the hearts on my two calendars and my husband walked by (*do-de-do ... do-de-do*). He looked over my shoulder, watched what I was doing, but didn't ask a word (not uncommon).

I know very well that he is not at all aware of what these hearts are for (how would he) - but he's never asked. I think he is afraid to ask (Really he just doesn't care. If he actually took the time to investigate all the peculiar stuff I do ... he could never keep up ... he'd lose his mind). Maybe he's asked the kids, "What are those hearts for on your mother's calendar?" ("Duh ... what hearts? Where? Um ... Duh ... I duno."). I doubt it. No ... he's clueless.

I have purposely not told him what they are for. I kind of like him roaming around wondering, "Hmmm ... maybe it's some sort of code - maybe these are the days she meets her lover."

On the upside ... Just keeping him on his toes - that's all.

Yesterday, my mom calls me in a state of panic and says, "Kellan, Kellan ... it's me, Mom (*panting*) (and ... I know it's her) ... how do you ... how do you, oh this darn thing ... how do you turn off the printer? It's just printing and spitting out papers (*more panting and grunting*). I've pushed all the buttons - how do you turn it off?"

And ... not long ago she says to me, after missing a call on her cell phone, "Someone just called and it went to my voicemail - I don't know how to get it outta' there."

I was at the nail salon on Monday and there was this woman my mother's age, getting a pedicure (I don't have the time for pedicures - only nails). She was on her cell phone and the call dropped and she said, "Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello," six times. When she reconnected with her party, she then got another call on call-waiting (I say to myself, "uh-oh.") and so she switched over and she said, "Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello," six times. I swear (it was funny)! I tried not to stare at her from across the room, but I couldn't help it. Her daughter needs to tell her to, "Stop doing that - you look ridiculous - it doesn't do any good saying it over and over again." I don't think she ever connected back to any of her calls (poor thing).

We all have dropped calls - we do - but my generation has definitely learned and embraced the concepts of the mobile phone and computer. We've diligently dedicated ourselves to learning all of their features - have pretty successfully moved from land-line phones to mobile phones - can load and unload our printer paper - rather easily. Not my mother and her friends.

Note to Mother: The voicemail is a pretty important feature on the mobile phone and ... it doesn't reconnect the call if you say, "Hello," six times - it doesn't work.

And, while I am capable of flashing over to a call-waiting call without losing both callers, able to retrieve my voice mail messages daily, able to set my alarm, use my phone calculator and take pictures ... I have to admit that I have yet to master texting (*sigh*).

One day recently, I was making the attempt to text a message to one of my daughters and there I was: (e,e,e,)=C, (e)=A, (eee)=L, (eee)=L, (e)=M, (ee)=E (CALL ME) - it took me 20 minutes to enter this one message (after all the mistakes, starting over erroneously, having difficulty with the sending of it ...). This is where I will be technologically left behind by my children's generation. It starts with the texting and will just go on from there (not that I have ever grasped the concepts of the telegraph, radio waves, microwaves, electricity, airplanes ...).

My brother lives in an older house and on the wall in his kitchen is a wall mounted, rotary dial phone. One of those we used to actually have to lease to have in our houses. Every so often, I intentionally use this phone to make outgoing calls - just so I can use that rotary dial. Those were the good ole' days - when the phone was always in the same place you left it, the mechanics of the thing were self explanatory and they came in colors to match your kitchen appliances.

My kids - they all ignore the rotary phone at my brother's house. I think they are confused by it. Scared of it. Can't quite figure out how to use it. I'm not sure what they think of this relic - but, I love it. It represents a simpler time (not that I want to go back).

On the upside ... my mother has me to help her with the gadgets she doesn't understand and my girls are thrilled that their daddy is fixing up his old 1969 Mustang for them. It won't have airbags, power steering, power breaks or power windows - but I'm sure he could paint it to match their cell phones or IPODS ... if they just want to text him and ask (cuz that's all they do ya know - text all day long - you can't a.c.t.u.a.l.l.y talk to these children!).

Is it just me ... or do those Duggers have (too many) A LOT of kids?

To date ,they have 17 children, (10 boys and 7 girls) Joshua, Jana & John-David (twins), Jill, Jessa, Jinger, Joseph, Josiah, Joy-Anna, Jedidiah & Jeremiah (twins), Jason, James, Justin, Jackson, Johannah & Jennifer.

Don't you imagine they must sometimes say, "What. Were. We. Thinking?" Surly they do.

I was watching them a couple of nights ago on TV and there they were - all 19 of them - heading out on a cross country trip in a newly purchased RV. Yep - a road trip with 17 kids!

When I watch them on TV, I catch myself counting all those kids (3, 4, 5, 6, 7 ...), like I really don't believe there are really 17 of them.

They really could only be labeled as a "freak show" (in my opinion), if there was this beer drinkin', tobacco chewin', harmonica playin' dad, with his head always under the hood of a truck, barefoot and stringy haired children that each had unique talents (like the yo yo, hula hoop or bird calls), gerbils or ferrets living in cages in the corner of the kitchen, as many cats in the house as there are children and a mother that obviously seldom bathes, has a tramp stamp tattooed on her lower back and slurs all her words in a twangy dialect. No ... they don't quite meet my criteria of "freak show" - but they certainly are a crazy phenomenon.

I don't really get it. I have four kids and always tell people, "Four kids is way more kids than anyone needs - two is plenty." How does that woman do all of it with 17 kids?

On the show the other night they were all lined up next to the RV (like soda bottles) - all wearing matching outfits.

How does she get all those kids to cooperate long enough to pose for any picture and how does she convince them to wear matching outfits? How does she keep that smile on her face? How?

I have to believe that there has got to be some screamin' goin' on in that house, but from the way they are depicted on TV - you'd never know. She's got kids doing chores without complaint - helping with the little ones without complaint - helping cook and doing laundry without complaint ... and there are kids going in every direction, doing who knows what and all the while there she is with her soft spoken voice, easy-going manner - just a smilin'! It's bizarre.

If you've never seen this show about the Dugger family, you need to watch it sometime. Just about the time you feel you have your hands full - you'll be introduced to a woman that has 17 kids, wearin' clean matching outfits, all cooperating with one another and her in the kitchen cooking beef stew and biscuits for 19! Just about the time you think you've got it all under control - Mrs. Dugger will show you ... in just one episode ... the true failure that you really are.

On the upside ... I'm glad I don't know her personally. It would be really shameful if she lived right next door (me always out in the yard screaming at my kids, "Will you get in here before I come out there and k*** you.").

Okay - I watch a lot of entertainment TV. Sometimes I try to call it the News, but friends of mine are quick to point out that "it is not the news".

I don't care - I still watch it.

So ... what do you think about all this stuff going on with Britney Spears and her kids?

I just want to wring her neck. Did you see that "news" piece where she was driving somewhere and the two little boys were in the back seat, with all the cameras flashing - and the two little boys were so scared and they were holding hands? I just want to wring her neck.

I heard some other actress say, "She doesn't have to live in LA. She could take those kids and just go somewhere else and live - away from all the press."

There ya go. It doesn't get any simpler than that! She's got the money to live anywhere. Why doesn't she just take those boys, go to some island, let them swim a little, play in the sand, make some castles, collect some seashells? What is the matter with her brain? And where is her MOTHER!!!!???? Get those kids outta there!

Why isn't there anyone - a cousin - an aunt - Madonna - telling this girl that she is an idiot and she needs to grow up? Why isn't anyone, but Kevin F. fighting for those kids?? All I'd have to do is look at my kids the wrong way, get caught doing so on a Wal-Mart security camera ... and CPS would be at my house taking away my kids.

She doesn't deserve those kids. She should have never had those kids. She was on TV again yesterday, being filmed with no panties on (enough of that already!) and out at 2:30 a.m. partying. She's a mess and someone needs to get her some help! Why does she keep going out (every single day!) and there are those kids in the back seat? I can go DAYS without feeling the need to leave my house and I don't have anyone doing the grocery shopping for me. Where is she always going that is so important? I only ever see her shopping or partying. She needs to stay home or get to work.

If they give her back those kids (while she's still acting like a maniac) - I am going out there to LA and getting them myself! I am!

I went and picked up my nephew from school about a week ago - he was sick - had a headache. In the car on the way home, I caught myself thinking, "You'd better act sick - after making me go up to the school looking like this," (I had been working in the yard - I was a MESS!). When I got him home, he went straight to the TV and played X-Box.

When my kids call from school, they are required to answer a check-list: "Do you have a fever? Are you throwing up? Are you curled up in a ball? Is there blood? Is there an appendage aiming in the wrong direction?" If my kids answer, "Uh ... No," to these questions, then I say, "Then get back to class."

If they get home anyways (because they called my husband to pick them up) and I see them, I say, "You're home sick? What's the matter?" and make them list all of their symptoms. Then I start to watch them (on the sly) to see if they are really sick. If they don't act sick (very important), I say, "You don't seem sick to me," and then they go through the whole pretense of making themselves loooook sick (slumping shoulders, hands on the forehead, grabbing at the nearest blanket ...). Then I almost always say, "You'd better really be sick," like any good mother would say.

I want someone to come pick me up when I have a headache - take me to get ice cream.

On the upside ... I don't think any of these children really know - that we know - when they are faking sick. I love that! I love having that on them!

• When the dentist calls me - to cancel an appointment (Yippie!)


• When I call someone I really need to talk too, but don't want to talk to, and their answering machine picks up!


• When I'm able to carry all the bags of groceries into the house in one trip!


• When I find a shoe fast enough to kill a roach before it scurries away!


• When I see a woman that has more kids than me!


• When I'm searching for something to eat and don't know what will hit the spot and ... it ends up being something as simple as a spoonful of peanut butter.


• When I draw a picture that actually looks like the thing I was trying to draw.


• When I clean the sliding door and it's still clean the next time I look.


• When I find a parking spot right near the front door.


• When I know the exact candy bar that will hit the spot.


• When I get a bill in the mail and find there is a credit balance because I over-paid the bill from the month before ($$).


• When I believe I have used all the cash in my wallet and find there is more cash!


• When I head up the stairs to make my bed and realize I have already made it!


• When I'm driving along and come out of that "driving hypnosis" - always happy I came too.


• When I find the bag of cookies I have hidden - has not yet been discovered by one of my kids.


• When I spell a word correctly that I was certain I did not know how to spell.


• When I look at the clock and it is waaaay earlier than I expected it to be.


• When they came out with those "Swiffer" dusters!!!!

My niece, who is six years old, asked, "Aunt Kellan, how do you spell cuz?"

I said, "B ... E ..." and she stopped me.

She said, "No ... cuz?"

I said, "B ... E ..." and she rolled her eyes.

I am not the person to be teaching these children how to spell!

I was at someones site recently and reading their post, that contained many words that I, uh, did not recognize. This happens often - so, I look them up. I can do this - as long as the correct spelling is there in front of me, you know - look up what it means. I do, however, sometimes see these "new" words and believe, when I am searching for it in the dictionary, that I will not actually find the word (cuz it won't be in the kindergarten dictionary that I use) or because I want to believe that these people capable of using these BIG words - are just making them up. I want to - not find the word - so I can say that, "These people are just makin' up words." I always ultimately find the word ...

But ... when it comes to spelling regular (not BIG) words - I'm just as bad. Words like surly and truly (I always want to put an "e" - so sometimes I do and sometimes I don't - I just looked both those up - doesn't show an "e" - I'll never remember this!). And words like, advise/advice (I don't know when to use which one - I know how to speak the difference, I just don't know which is which when I write it). And all those "any", "every" and "some" words (anytime, anymore, anybody, anyone, somewhere, someplace, someone, everytime ...). I always want to separate these words (some day, any one ...) I never remember if they are or are not supposed to be separated, so I just write whatever comes into my mind and that's what I go with. Maybe they are always one word - I don't know. And "its and it's" is another one I get confused about. And affect and effect - forget it.

I'm never gonna' remember any of these words.

And ... these aren't the only words. I can't spell simple words like "gecho" (that lizard that turns green when it is on something green - you know). I don't know if this is how you spell "gecho", but I suspect it's not - cuz, "spell check" tells me it's wrong and I can't find it spelled this way in the dictionary. I also can't find the way it is spelled - CUZ I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SPELL IT.

Sometimes, I get lucky with looking up words and find the word close by (what I thought it was spelled like) - I luck out. Usually, when I can't find the word in the dictionary ... I just rack my pea-sized-brain for a new word (like lizard - I can spell that) to use. Why isn't "gecho" spelled like that. It's just "echo" with a "g"??

Don't leave me advise/advice on how to spell any of these words because:

• I won't remember it
• I won't remember it
• I won't remember it

I have had 46 years to learn how to spell. I don't know why when I try to memorize this stuff that my brain makes the decision, "Nope ... we don't have room for that ... toss that out," but it does. All on its own.

I want to remember how to spell words (BELIEVE ME). I don't like that I feel stupid everytime/every time I try to remember a word I have spelled a BILLION times - but still can't remember it. I don't like that it makes me look - STUPID! I try to get my brain to remember this stuff - it just won't!!

On the upside ... only my 15 year old daughters are aware that I am a "spelling-idiot". The two little ones haven't caught on yet. They still think I am fully equipped. In the meantime (mean time - one word - I don't know) - "cuz" is B ... E ... C ..... You should have seen the look on my niece's face when she was trying to get me to understand "cuz". She kept saying it "cuz, cuz - you know - cuz." I explained the whole thing to her (not to fear) - to the best of my illiterate ability.

We all know that summer is coming to an end - except The Princess. She still wants to go to the beach.

She asked, over and over, this past summer if we could go to the beach. I made the (BIG) mistake of saying, "Maybe we could go once school starts. It won't be so busy then and it's cheaper to go to the beach after school starts." I said this, honestly believing that we may very well do this or believing that I could do this for her.

I'm just getting old, I think. I know there are times when I just can't stand the thought of the process - like going to the beach.

There we are at the hotel and the kids all want to go down to the beach. Sounds like a good idea; that's why we came to the beach. So, as their mother, I have to agree. But ... I have done the beach before, many times, with and without kids, and I am telling you ... going to the beach with my kids is exhausting! There is absolutely nothing I like, anymore, about going to the beach. Not the ocean, not the sand, not the wind, not the shells (well, I kind of still like the shells), not the sand getting into EVERYTHING, not the sand toys, not the sand castles, not the seaweed and not the SHARKS!

I think maybe there was a time that I must have liked the beach. But, after I had kids and have made that trip one too many times, I have come to not like the beach at all. And it is the process:

Get out all the swimsuits, put all the swimsuits on, gather up enough towels, find the sunscreen, slather the sunscreen on everyone, get the chairs ready to go, get the drinks in the cooler, get the snacks, get the sand toys ... drag all this stuff from the hotel down to the beach, in several several trips (because you can't possibly take it all in one trip and none of these goin'-to-the-beach excited children can help carry a thing without whining all the way to the waters edge about it). Walk way to far across the hot sand, helping the little ones as we go; hauling heavy coolers, chairs and towels, blah, blah, blah. And then we sit in the scorching sun with sand sticking to our sweaty bodies, sand all in our swimsuits and in our eyes, the wind blowing obnoxiously, make a few sand castles, worry if the kids are going out too far in the surf, worry about the under current, worry about the jellyfish, seaweed and SHARKS! And then when, after only an hour, the children are tired of the beach and want to go back up to the hotel pool, I want to MAKE them stay at the beach ... after all we have gone through to get them down there. But, I don't want to stay either ... so we pack up all the crap we drug down to the waters edge and haul it all back up, over the hot sand, rinse all the sandy feet and bodies off in the shower the hotel has positioned at the end of the pier, unload what needs to go back to the room and ... end up at the pool ---- right where I wanted to be ANYWAY! And then ... we do it all over again, the next day.

Camping is pretty much the same exhausting process, only worse.

I don't like to go to the beach (!) or camping or anywhere that involves a long process in getting us all there. I will do it though; just like I do those damned awful gaudy orange and black Halloween decorations in my house every year - for my children. But, I do sometimes look for ways around doing it if the end does not really justify the "crap I have to go through to make it happen".

If the payoff is to see my little boy build the best and most magnificent sand castle of all the kids on the beach, then I will do it and I will take pictures and I will be happy I inconvenienced myself, just to get those precious photos. I will do it just to over-hear one of them telling their friend, "Yeah, we went to the beach and we had so much fun." I will do it to hear my baby say,"I love going to the beach, Mama," and never once let her know just how much I don't. I will do it. I have done it - many times.

I haven't actually planned this trip to the beach that I promised The Princess - but, as you can see, it is on my mind. If we do it ... I'll take some (d***) pictures.

On the upside ... I've had A LOT of practice doing things I don't want to do and I've had A LOT of practice going to the beach - maybe this time I would love it.

Have you seen those AT&T (Cingular) commercials, where the mother is drilling the daughter about exceeding her texting time and the daughter answers with, "IDK (I don't know) - my BFFJill (my best friend forever, Jill). You know the one. I love that commercial!!

I want to learn how to talk like this. I want to do it all day long. I want to learn it, on the sly, and then drop it, at just the right moment, on my kids. "IDK. I was JTDT to GTTGS today . Guess YWJHTE Cheerios." (Translation: I don't know. I was just too damn tired to get to the grocery store today. Guess you will just have to eat Cheerios.") Doesn't it sound way more fun in the "letter-lingo"?

My kids would think I was brilliant (or insane) if I could really learn how to talk like this, all the time. Their friends would think I was cool ("Have you met their mom. She talks in the "letter-lingo". She's really cool!"). I'd be the talk of the town.

It's never gonna' happen. It's a dream I have (really), but I'm not capable of learning this new language. I can barely speak English when I need it. I still have to count on my fingers to add. I use the alphabet system to remember people's names (start at A and see if that triggers their name, then go to B, and then C, and then D ... if you get to Z and still don't have their name, you start over. If you get to Z again - you give up and ask some else if they remember the person's name). I also can't spell worth a crap (and I've had a long time to learn that). Nope ... this language is waaaay over my head.

On the Upside ... My daughter told me that one of her teachers told her that her mother was really cool. My daughter made a point of telling me this twice, because her teacher made a point of telling her, twice. I said, "Well ... see, I told you. I am cool," and my daughter just rolled her eyes. I am already cool and I didn't even know it.

I am definitely doing something wrong with this plant (the one on the left). I really don't know what is wrong with it (I believe it needs to be re-potted - I'm not doing that). There are seven other's in pots, just like it, and they are doing just fine (look very healthy).

I'm not the best gardener. I went outside yesterday and trimmed all my shrubs (a lot of shrubs!) - it took hours. I cleaned up my flower beds. I picked up trash in my yard (the kids leave - cuz this is a public park, you know.) I watered. And ... I pruned a few of my crepe myrtles. I'm pretty sure it is not the time of year to prune crepe myrtles, but I don't care about that "time of year" stuff. If the plant is in my yard and it's looking shabby and needs to be cut back - I just hack away (I wish someone would do this to me - just come up and trim my hair when I really need a cut).

I like working in my yard. I like a pretty yard. But ... I am not going to go to all the trouble of feeding, re-potting, thinning out, preparing the soil ... ever! I will trim, mow, add mulch, water and pick up trash - but that is a far as I will go. If a plant wants to live in my yard, it needs to be happy with a good cut, every now and then, and water. And ... I can only clip anything into a "ball" shape - no animal, cartoon characters, squares or topiary's, here. An occasional cut and water - that's it.

This plant is going to die - I don't care. I'll buy another one (brand new and healthy) to replace it. The cost of a new plant, is worth it to me, not to have to really learn all about gardening. I don't have room in my brain to store all that: too much light, not enough ash, too much water, this kind of fertilizer is for this and that is for that - crap. Water - that's all I really understand and that is definitely all I want to know.

On the upside ... most of the plants in my yard have conformed and are going along with my rules. The one's that didn't, are ... outa' here.

I used to believe that in a previous life I was a Queen.

Not that I truly believe in reincarnation, but it would explain my obsessive love of all things glittery, shiny, sparkly and dangly.

I do love a blouse or purse adorned with crystals, gems or rhinestones.

I do love beads and feathers and chains attached to clothing or around my neck and in my ears.

I do love to imagine I once wore a crown that was full of diamonds and ruby's and emeralds.

Okay ...

So, maybe I wasn't a Queen, but I do love gaudy and frilly and shiny and glittery clothes.

Another thing I love is ...

VAMPIRES!

I'm not sure what this made me in a previous life (maybe a bat), but I am obsessed with VAMPIRES.

Lately, I have been totally consumed with all things TRUE BLOOD:

I mean OBSESSED!

Have you seen this series??

Oh my goodness!!!

I started out reading the books:

There are nine books out in this series by Charlaine Harris and I have - in a matter of just over a couple of weeks - read all nine.

After I read the first eight, I told myself that I would wait for the most recent Dead and Gone to come out in paperback before I read it. But .....................

After I finished From Dead to Worse .................

I could feel myself going into withdrawals at the thought of having to wait for this ninth book to come out in paperback.

With glazed over eyes, saliva oozing from the side of my mouth and my hands clenched so tightly I drew blood from my palms ...

I immediately headed over to Barnes & Nobel ...

Walked up to the information desk ...

Leaned way over the counter ...

And begged ...

Begged ...

"Please, please, please ... Dead and Gone by Charlaine Harris!"

The girl behind the counter looked at me like I was a vampire searching for blood and simply said, "It's only out in hardcover."

Lowering my head and looking up at her through my eyebrows I moaned, "GIVE IT TO ME! GIVE ME THAT $25.00 HARDCOVER BOOK! I HAVE TO HAVE IT!! I DON'T CARE WHAT IT COSTS!"

She gave it to me.

I read it.

Now I am in a total state of loss and depression as ...

The next installment in this series, A Touch of Dead, will not be out until October ...

WAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!

OMG!!!!

Excuse me now while I slink back to my cave, put my crown on my head and rewatch season one of TRUE BLOOD and start reading the books all over again.

************

*Hey - my friend Sally over at Whispering Hope is having a really great giveaway this week in memory of her grandson. So make sure you stop over and see her.

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