And it's not JUST her wardrobe.

I suppose that it is a sorry commentary on my life when I admit how happy I get on Monday mornings because this show is on Monday nights.  

What show makes YOU smile??

(P.S. Here's another thing that makes me smile:

)

FF: Unfortunate Discomforts

It has been an interesting week here in the Flag household.  Why don't I share a few little peeks into it with you?

~I took my daughter to the mall to meet her "friend" who makes my daughter involuntarily smile and blush simultaneously. I also dropped my son off with her.  It seemed like a smart mom thing to do, and he was happy to come home and report everything he saw.

~My friend took a TERRIBLE picture of me.  Terrible.  And then she sent it to me via a cd.  Just so you know, I would not do that to you.

~I have this miserable sun/age spot on my face.  The dermo says she can remove it for $$$$.  Instead she sold me a cream for $$$ which isn't doing much to help.  Then, last Sunday, a friend asked me in a whisper if it was a bruise and did Checkered hit me.  She was serious.  NO!  He did not hit me.

~Another friend noted that I was reading Laura Ingalls Wilder's books (motivated by my night on the prairie, no doubt) and she went and borrowed a copy of Jennifer Weiner's newest book so I would have something "good" to read.  As much as I love Jennifer Weiner's writing, I think I enjoyed the Wilder books just as much.

~Not one.  Not two. But three mosquito bites on my backside this week.  How?!

~And finally.  Don't ever trust me if I say, "I love limes.  Go ahead and take a big taste of one."

Now I need to head out and do some blog hopping.  Why don't you ride with me? 

Never Losing My Cool. Kind of.

(photo courtesy of google)

My teen-aged son has been in the process this summer of acquiring a new voice, and it still surprises me more than I might admit.  The other night his buddy slept over.  When I went to bed, I said good night to those two boys with their still soft faces and frequent little boy silliness.

Then next morning after Checkered went to work and before any of the kids were awake, I took a shower and as I turned the water off, I could just hear the rumble of two men speaking downstairs.  My mind went into immediate panic wondering who the men were and who had let them into the house!! 

I grabbed the nearest clothing, and with wet hair sticking out at all angles, flew rather ungracefully down the stairs where I found my son and his friend talking in their newly deep voices to each other about their video game victories.  How could they be the same two boys I had said good night to a few hours before?    As stealthily as I could manage, I reclimbed the stairs drowning in the embarrassment my shock had caused me (although I am clinging to the belief that they were so engrossed in their conversation that they never noticed my uncoordinated dance down the stairs.)

 Honestly though? As much as I love seeing who my kids are becoming and as fun as it is to see the hints of the adults they will some day be, I'm just a little glad that there are still two other boys living in this house and that they will remain sopranos for a few more years.  Transitions take me a while, you know.

He is Going to Be Such a Good Husband

I have to tell you that I love Michigan Bulb.  I've long-read their catalogues, but this year was the first time I gave in and ordered.  Their service was quick and when my hibiscus refused to grow, their customer support was everything it should have been: professional, kind, and most helpful.  The replacement hibiscus plants have grown quickly and beautifully.

*****

My first-born son is the sweetest teenager on the Earth.  He is the one who offers his grandma his arm when we are visiting and walking to the car.  He is the one who tells me that I look pretty.  He is the one who couldn't think of the single thing to request for his 13th birthday, and never once complained that he was miserably sick on that big day.  He is a thoughtful, gentle boy.

*****

This week-end, he saw some work which needed to be done and he did it.  He fixed the toilet :)  He went grocery shopping with me and carried in and put away all the groceries :)  And he pulled an enormous weed up from the side of the house :)

*****

You already know what this paragraph is going to say?  Right?  Yep.  He pulled up my hibiscus.  Pulled really hard to sever the roots cleanly.  And he is so sweet that he fessed up when he heard us blaming the rabbits.  He was absolutely mortified. 

*****

Do you suppose Michigan Bulb will cover that replacement?

FF: Technical Difficulties

~My son and I spent Thursday afternoon assembling his new bike in an attempt to impress the most mechanical Mr. Checkered.  What did we learn?  That it really is possible to install a tire backward.

~Blogger has begun to hide several of the blogs I thought I was following.  Has it become like Facebook and bloggers are now able to drop me? "That Caution! When she finally gets around to commenting, the comments makes no sense.  I'm kicking her off my followers list!!"

~I don't know how I really feel about the practice of bloggers who are so gracious in replying to every comment.  It's sweet, but I wouldn't feel bereft if they didn't always respond.  How do you feel about that?  Okay, I see you nodding.  Does that mean I should begin to comment on your comments?  I could. Maybe.

~I also need to find some new blogs to read.  Well, they don't really have to be new...just to me.   Got any suggestions?

~After serious thought, I have opted to grade essays the old fashioned way this semester.  I will hold each one, use colorful ink to encourage writing growth, and I will add a sizable comment with each letter grade. Then I forget to wash my hands prior to eating and will give new life any germs living on those essays and my hands.

~My middle son went to a Lego robotics camp this week and had a grand time.  What a bright group of kids!  On the first day I realized there would be significant competition there when I overheard the kids saying things like:

"Of course Alaska's greatest natural resource is..."

"Echo location works really well with these robots"

"I really enjoyed that exhibit at the Henry Ford Museum."

Now this same son moves on to a hunter's safety course.  Honestly?  The attraction of hunting is completely lost on me. (Admit it! That's not where you thought my comment was headed. Did you?)

~I will admit that hunting maybe doesn't belong in a technical post.

~And lastly: justice!  The woman ahead of me in line at the customer service desk yesterday told the clerk her problem, and then took a phone call.  "Oh hi! Nice to hear from you.  Nothing much.  Just at the store...."  Meanwhile, the annoyed clerk immediately stopped working on the woman's issue and said, "Next in line!!"  I was next in line!  When I left, the woman was still chatting, but had begun to look a little confused as to why her problem hadn't been resolved.

Now here are the lunch tables I've chosen to sit at today.  Want me to scooch over so you can join us?

The Exhaustion of School

It is no secret that my youngest child does not love school, and as a result, loses a great deal of sleep during the school year.  But fret not!  He has been making up for all that lost sleep this summer.  Take Monday night for example.

He went to bed at 9 pm and was asleep by 10 pm.  At 2.30 PM the next day, I forced him to awaken and get out of bed.  He drifted downstairs and promptly dozed for another hour in the game room.

Knowing that he is healthy and otherwise nicely active, I am not overly worried about the sleeping.  What does worry me, however, is the math I've been doing.  It appears that when school resumes on September 7, if my child is to get all the sleep he seems to currently need, he is going to have to go to bed before school is dismissed each day.

I'm not really sure how the teacher is going to react to this news.

The Proof is in the Truck

I doubt that you would know that my younger sister and I are related at all if we didn't tell you.

You see, she loves an organized schedule. 
I love to see how the day will evolve all by itself.

She majored in math and chose a math-based profession. 
I majored in words and chose a word-based profession.

She is a talented pianist.
I play enough for me to focus on my real love: singing.

She is right-handed.
I have a mixed-dominance in my handedness.

She reads in bed.
I watch t.v.

She joined a gym.
I drive by one on my way to the Dairy Maid.

But despite these differences, there is one sure way to know that we share DNA.

It's true: we MUST be related after all.