Maybe this wasn't such a good idea...

This afternoon was blessedly free from any type of practice or scheduled activity (which seriously just does NOT happen anymore around here), and after an already looong week (yes, I know it’s only Wednesday, but we’ve all had the dreaded TAKS fever this week), the kids played for a while, had a snack, but then wanted to watch some T.V.

So in the interest of educational televison, (I mean, something more educational than Phineas and Ferb, which admittedly, IS very educational in its own right), I had recorded the series, ‘Life’ on the Discovery Channel. There were about a dozen hour long episodes in the series, and we have all of them on our DVR.

If you haven’t seen an episode, they really are a wonder to behold. According to Discovery Channel’s website, more than 70 camerapersons spent more than 3,000 days over four years figuring out how to film reclusive creatures in hostile or impenetrable places. And the results are truly spectacular, so I don’t feel as guilty letting the kids lounge on the couch, learning about the circle of life, while I fry up a bison for dinner. (Hey, it’s the circle of life, friends.)

Oh, and it’s narrated by none other than Oprah. Oprah freakin’ Winfrey, y’all. Which is cool… but… um…


I just can’t get used to Oprah telling my children all about the mating habits of the cuttlefish. ‘Cause it’s Oprah, and all?

And as I’m listening to her oh-so-distinctive voice, I keep expecting to hear: “On today’s show… the CUTTTTTLE FIIIISH!” Instead, as I’m cooking dinner, I hear the following…


Oprah: To inseminate the female, the male lays a sperm sack near the female’s mouth.

Davis: Look… they’re kissing… GROSS!

Me: Um, yeah… they’re KISSING. Blech.



And then? Well, then, Oprah is all, like, “After the deed is done…”

And *I’m* all, like… “Really, Oprah? REALLY? ‘After the deed is done’? Delivered in that bemused voice of yours?”


But the kids are utterly fascinated by the shows. And who knows? Maybe I have three little future wildlife scientists on my hands. Marine biologists. Ichthyologists. Botanists. Ecologists.


And maybe one day, one of *my* babies will be standing up in front of their graduating class, holding their diploma and making a speech, just before they embark on their fellowship to Queensland to study the Northern Hairy-nosed Wombat (yes, it’s true!), and I’ll be the proud mother beaming from the audience…

My eyes brimming with tears of joy… as they stand up, and say, ‘I’d just like to thank a very special woman for being the voice of inspiration for me...








Thank you, Oprah!’

It pinches just a bit...

I'm still here...




but I have my foot caught in a bear trap...





and I can just barely reach the keyboard.







'Bear' with me (pun intended)...










:P

An open letter to Ben and Jerry

Dear Ben & Jerry,

While I am, through and through, a Texas girl, and have grown up eating BlueBell homemade ice cream (genuflects)… and while no self-respecting Texan would be caught dead eating their peach cobbler with anything other than a generous helping of BlueBell Homemade Vanilla… I just have to say that I’ve always considered one particular flavor of your ice cream to be just this side of heaven.

Others can have their Cherry Garcia, or Chunky Monkey, or New York Super Fudgy Chunky Gooey Mess Chock Full of Nuts and Bolts (because that *is* an actual flavor, isn’t it?)…

My personal favorite would have to be Phish Food.

Phish Food, oh Phish Food! How I love you… how I crave your delicious creaminess… your smooth chocolate ice cream, your ribbons of soft and gooey marshmallow crème, and your caramel swirls. But what really sets you apart from the pack? Your pièce de résistance? It would have to be those chocolaty little fishes, complete with their little fishy details. Whose idea was that, by the way? Because those fish were a stroke of culinary genius.



Plus, they smile at me.


And I admit that I thought for the longest time that your spelling was just an ironic, fun little play on words. You know… a trademark thing. Yes, yes… I’ve since discovered that Phish is an …”American rock band noted for its musical improvisation, extended jams, exploration of music across genres and devoted fan base.” (oh yeah…straight outta Wiki)

So Ben and Jerry (may I call you Ben and Jerry?), I don’t often write fan letters to anyone other than our local weatherman, Jim… but for Phish Food, I will make an exception.

Your ice cream, while unable to predict cloudbursts or explain what makes a funnel cloud, brings joy to my life, and enhances my weekly viewing of the ‘Phish Food’ of network television… otherwise known as, ‘Glee’. (You know… they’re both refreshing, unprecedented, unexpected, and both make you want to burst into song, using your spoon as a microphone to belt out a few iconic 80’s tunes. Um… or is that just me?)

I just wanted to say thanks from the heart, and a chorus of hallelujahs from the taste buds…



Oh, and from the muffin top: “#*$% you, Phish Food!”

(Sorry about that.)

S

Does this officially make us cheesy?

Imagine my surprise when I went into the pantry, and I discovered not one… not two… but THREE boxes of Cheez-its.

What’s up with all the Cheez-its? Which by the way, are faaaaar superior to Cheese Nips. In my opinion, those Nips taste like ass.
(Hello, Mr. Pervert… didn’t really expect to stumble across this when you googled ‘Nips and Ass’, did you?)

So we *do* love Cheez-it’s, but um…hello? Three boxes?!

Evidently my grocery shopping hubby found them on special, and decided to stock up. Because you just never know when you’re going to have a craving for something cheesy, slightly salty, and chock full of crap that’s bad for you, but tastes oh-so-good.

And I’m hearing that your only reaction to all of that was… ‘Phil grocery shops?!’ Why yes. Yes, he does. So, I’m not complaining about the boxes… I was just surprised at the sheer volume of smallish, square, orange crackers that our pantry is now host to.

Since he is the one that does the bulk of the grocery shopping, I like to check out the receipt when he comes home from the store. Oh, and I might like to quiz him. He can tell me the price of just about anything.

Me: The guinea pig bedding?

Him: Um… it was $9.92

Me: Correct! What about the… the… you bought a can of sauerkraut?!

Him: Yes.

Me: A can? Why?

Him: We’re having brats on Thursday. I like sauerkraut with the brats.

Me: And the price, Mr. Bargain Shopper?

Him: I think it was 42 cents.

Me: You bought a can of sauerkraut for 42 cents?

Him: Yep.

Me: Then I hope they were running a good special on Pepto, too.



(p.s. No, your eyes are not deceiving you. That *is* a shelf label in my pantry. I just hate mixing my baking products with my tomato sauce products. It's a sickness, I know.)

Tell me a story...

You just know that any story that starts with, "And when I was a zombie..." has got to be a good one.

Especially when the zombie in question is my five year old. ;)

Five for Friday...

1. It’s been a CRAAAAZY busy week. Combine swim practice with field trips with prepping for a twirling competition with school projects with hosting luncheons at school with preschool conferences… oh, and not to mention all that screech owl-watching. Biz-zee.

2. Libs drew this totally crack-a-lackin’ picture of herself with Mommy and Daddy.




I think she fancies herself an only child. Look at her smug expression.

Her teacher showed me all of Libby’s drawings at her preschool conference, and she *does* sometimes include her siblings in them.
Funny thing, though? We’re dressed in jeans and orange shirts in EVERY SINGLE PICTURE. No joke. In fact, for one picture, she had dictated the following for her teacher to write:


“My family really likes to wear burnt orange.”

Makes me feel a little like we need to diversify, but then I remember…we look damn good in orange.

(oh, and p.s.? Her alphabet?! She's a super-genius. Except she can't write a 'Z' correctly, but I personally think that Z's are over-rated. Unless you're talking about sleep, and then? They rock.)

(Another sidenote... check out my insanely long feet, and how my husband looks like he's half of "Kid'n'Play". Awesomeness.)

3. A little something to drive us all crazy? ‘Helicopter parents’. So named because they hover over everything. The ones that want to wrap their kids in bubble wrap and mow down any hurdles that might confront them. It’s called life, people, and kids need a chance to learn some things from it. And, in the words of the great and knowledgeable Forrest Gump... 'That's all I have to say about that.' That Forrest, he knows a thing or two. Plus, he shares his chocolate, so he's alright by me.

4. Another little something to drive us all crazy?
When the battery on your car dies.
And not only does it die, it at least gives you a courtesy warning by activating your car alarm.
And not only does it activate your alarm, but it does so while you’re driving down the road, and you are unable to turn it off without turning off the car.
But you *know* if you turn off the car, you just might not get it started again, and you will be stranded in the middle of the street…
sooo, you have to drive with your windows down to shout at the people who are walking down the street that you are *NOT*, in fact, honking at them…
there’s just “SOMETHING WRONG WITH MY VAN!!!”

And, in fact, it is *very* hard to be heard over a car alarm.

And just waving doesn’t seem to do the trick to stop the glares.

Or so I’ve heard.


5. In the car yesterday…

Josie: "For Living Museum (a school presentation), my friend Anna is going to be Elizabeth the 1st. She’s even going to give her speech in an English accent! Isn't that cool?! I was wondering how many Queen Elizabeths there were, anyway?"

Davis (emphatically): "There were two. The first one died. And the second one?

(a little LESS emphatically)...the second one...well… she is…

ummmm…






*probably* dead."






Oh well, at least we have ONE super-genius. ;)

Well, 'Owl' be darned...

Davis’s teacher sent home a link to a website that shows live video of a nesting screech owl here in Austin.

The kids have been checking it in class, and she thought they might like to watch it at home. It *is* pretty freakin’ cool… check it out.

http://www.ustream.tv:80/channel/screech-owl-cam---austin (sorry... not sure how to activate the link. Technology... d'oh!)

Chances are, you will see either the tail feathers of the owl, or quite possibly the back of her little screech owl head. And if you look closely, you can see a bunch of bugs and ants, crawling around in the nestbox. (Not sure why, but my kids find those bugs utterly fascinating.)

You probably won’t see the five eggs because she leaves so infrequently. She is in serious incubation mode. I totally understand. By the time it got to be time for each of my own little eggs to ‘hatch’ (so to speak), I wasn’t all that interested in getting my big butt out of my nesting box, either. Chances are good that she has Papa Screech Owl on speed dial to pick up Dairy Queen M&M Blizzards for her, too.

Yesterday, though, while we were intently watching it, chattering about how cool it was that you could see this live… how technology makes things like this possible (why yes, I *do* sometimes seize that ‘teachable moment’)… and I was explaining to the kids that no amount of tapping on the computer screen would make a difference, since she can’t hear us…

All of a sudden, Mama Owl swivels her entire head around and Looks. Right. At. Us.

I’m not too embarrassed to admit that we all screamed.









Okay...*I* screamed.

The kids thought it was totally amazing, and continued tapping on the monitor, much like they do when we go to the zoo’s reptile house or the aquarium. (Yes, I KNOW they’re not supposed to do that at the zoo or the aquarium, but I’m much too busy, canvassing the floor to make sure that no anacondas or big, hairy, bird-eating spiders have escaped from their enclosures, to keep an eye on my own children.)

Anyway, she was staring right at the camera, with her huge, round eyes. As the kids were jumping up and down around me, jockeying for position at the computer, shrieking and pointing, and yes, tap-tap-tapping… I decided I needed to try to communicate with this fellow mother. You know, telepathically… to tell her a few things.

Namely, enjoy the time you have while those babies are still just eggs. Nice, quiet eggs.
Eat some of those bugs as a snack.
Take a nap (or two) every day.
Watch some reality television.
Read a trashy romance novel.
Because before you know it, those little owlets will be clamoring for worms and juice boxes, and they’ll have poster board projects that need to be completed for Owl Elementary. And while being a mom is the most amazing thing ever, you won’t have a minute to yourself again until it’s time for them to go off to Rice University (get it?! ‘Cause they’re owls and all?).



I’m not sure she heard me. Um, telepathically, I mean. ‘Cause it’s not like I shouted any of that directly at the computer screen…um… nope… I. Sure. Did. Not.






Much. ;)

Kids, just use a washcloth to dry off...

I have washed the same load of towels three times.

I’m not talking about washing them, drying them, using them, and re-washing them… I mean, I threw a load of wet towels in on Friday to wash them, after the kids had their swim practice. I forgot about them overnight, and opened the washer to discover them on Saturday afternoon. I re-ran the load, and promptly forgot about them until I opened the washer this morning.

The washer is running right now, and I am not leaving this house until those stupid towels actually make it to the dryer.

What is wrong with me, here? Usually I am so ‘on top’ of things with my laundry schedule. Usually, I’m all like… ‘Laundry, I’m not scared of you.’ Usually, I make laundry my b*tch. For realz.

People say to me all the time, “Wow, Staci, you just have it sooo together! I admire you. I think I want to be you. Oh, and your highlights look amazing."




Shut up.


I admit it, friends. Some days I’m more ‘together’… more productive…than others. Some days, I pack lunches, cook a healthy dinner, finish (and fold!) the laundry, volunteer with a smile on my face, write a killer blog, help with school projects, chauffeur to swim practice… and Cub Scouts… and twirling… and dance… and Happy Hour (Oh, wait, that’s for me.)

And some days? Well, some days, I spend a half hour, sitting on the playroom floor, trying to scrape squished Tootsie Roll out of the carpet, while I wash a load of laundry for the 4th time.

Five random thoughts for Friday

1. I am all out of sorts, and discombobulated (holy hell… that didn’t even register on my spell-check because I’m *just* that smart.) Why?? Because I have gone almost a week, playing phone tag with my BFF in Colorado. All is not right in the universe when I don’t talk to her on, like, an every-other-day basis. This must be rectified. As quickly as possible. If not sooner.


2. Have you had a Bud Light Lime? I like them. They are cold and refreshing and light and limey. Hence, the name, I guess. They’re quite yummy with grilled chicken fajitas, and chips and guacamole. You should try one… if you happen to be over the age of 21, that is (jeez, of course!)

Oh, and ‘Don’t Drink and Drive’, people. Consider those today’s public service announcements.


3. We went to the pool yesterday, and O.M.G…it was COLD. The pool itself was heated, so as long as we stayed in up to our necks, it was fine. But when I went to get out and grab my towel, the breeze blew across my skin, and I became convinced that freezing to death would most likely be the absolute worst way to kick off. ‘Cause it’s so cold, and everything?


4. I colored my own hair this week. I’m still not sure about it, which is why I’ve worn a baseball cap for the last two days (other than the fact that I look *adorable* in a baseball cap). If you see me this weekend, try not to point and stare. And giggling? Well, I might just have to go, like, all ‘bald Britney Spears with an umbrella’ on you.


5. I still have the Dora the Explorer head in my shower. At some point, I’m getting rid of it, but right now, I need to make sure that it is not going to come back and haunt me. So, I’m still speaking nicely to it on a daily basis, and inching it closer to the door.

Something strange is afoot here on Planet Linson

Okay, not really strange, but DEFINITELY annoying.

Go click on the 'View My Complete Profile' button down at the bottom of the page. Go ahead. I'll wait for you. Then come back.






And you saw a number, right? Under 'Profile Views'? Well, an 'approximate' number? I have been waiting for that stupid number to shift over to 4000 for weeks, now.

Weeks!

It used to count by 100's, and it would just randomly go up by 100 or 200, when I had an 'approximate' number of profile views, I guess? Now, this is NOT, I've figured out, how many times my blog has been read. (I figured this out in a very scientific way... you probably wouldn't understand, but it involved lots of clicking buttons and some 'strategery'.)

It is just the number of times my PROFILE has been viewed. And not everybody who reads always views the profile because, um... well, duh? Nothing really changes on my profile. I haven't even changed my picture since I dyed my hair red, and got those breast implants.

But I'm soooo close, and now?! Now that it is *this* close, the stupid thing is counting individual clicks?!

Whatevs. Not that it matters. It's not even a pride thing. It's just an OCD thing. But I WANT it to click over to 4000. I NEED it to click over to 4000. It's a bit like watching the odometer on your car, waiting... waiting... waiting... for it to hit 100,000 miles.

Don't ask me why I think it will make me feel better. But, honestly, there are only so many times in one day I can go online and click on my own picture and 'View my Complete Profile' before I start to feel like a total loser.



So do me a solid, would ya? ;)

If only all of our highlights could be set to music.

I admit it. I so wanted to hate it. I *wanted* to.

Alas, I couldn’t.



I think we all know by now my aversion to most things related to college basketball. Everything that is, except for ‘One Shining Moment’. The absolute best part of the season… of March Madness… of the entire tournament.

Not only do I wait and wait for the game to FINALLY end each year, just so I can watch it (and get chills)… whenever I feel like the season is dragging on interminably (doesn’t it, though?), I can get my One Shining Moment ‘jones’ via Youtube.

I’ve probably watched just about every year’s on Youtube to see the highlights. The Hoosiers’ win in 1987? Seen it. (Is it any wonder that my husband adores me? ;)

So, yeah. I was pissed when I heard that Jennifer Hudson would be singing the song for the montage. What about Luther?!! Evidently, the songwriter (who has, like, frickin’ RIGHTS to the song, or something?!), can determine who will be singing the song from year to year. I thought, though, that as the song’s Number One Fan, I should at least get a vote.

Jennifer Hudson? Sure, she can sing. I think she won some award or something, but... whatevs. Not to sound too much like Paula Abdul, but I was really worried that JayHud (isn’t that her nickname?) would ‘make the song her own’.

Or, basically, totally jack it up, like singers always do when they get the chance to sing the National Anthem. Because while you may be able to mess with ‘the bombs bursting in air’, you just absolutely should not be allowed to screw around with amazing lyrics like these:

“The ball is tipped,
and there you are.
You're running for your life.
You're a shooting star.”



Shut up. I know it by heart, alright?! Damn. I’m tearing up just a little. And yes, as a matter of fact, I *do* have it playing in the background as I write this. God bless iTunes.

But, as I mentioned before, I didn’t hate Jennifer’s version. Yeah, I prefer Luther, or even the original version (David Barrett… thank ya veddy much, Google). There were a few too many cut-aways, showing her singing in a recording studio (like, hello? We get it, CBS. New singer)…

Plus I really *did* want Butler to win. Because even if I’m not a huge basketball fan, I totally love to root for the underdog. Especially if they’re playing Duke. Because, um… obviously.

But I still watched it. And I watched it again on Youtube today. And I admit… I still love it.

It is just the right amount of cheesy.. the right amount of chills… and those three minutes?

Well, it’s just about the right amount of basketball for me. ;)

Utter Nonsense

Things I do that make no sense, but I do them anyway.


1. Secretly checking out what other people have in their grocery carts, and trying to envision the night they have planned.

“Hmm…Ice cream… a spatula…laxatives… Q-tips…”

(I am forgetting, of course, that in my own cart, I have a Hershey bar, guinea pig food, an air freshener, and 35 mm film.)

2. That weird little jog thing when I’m crossing a parking lot in front of a car. I’m not actually moving faster. I’m just pantomiming moving faster, but I still feel compelled to do it. So far, I haven’t been hit by a car. I’m still not sure, though, if I can attribute that to the ‘courtesy jog’.

3. Popping my contact in my mouth to rinse it off.
Gross? Yes. But, honestly, if you do not wear contacts, you simply *cannot* understand how a miniscule speck of dust in your eye can feel like someone is shoving a hot poker through your retina.
Oh, and Dr. Dave? You did NOT just read that whole thing about me putting my contact in my mouth. Because I don’t. Really.

4. Saying, ‘You, too!’ inappropriately.

Waiter: Here’s your dinner… enjoy!
Me: You too!
Waiter (under breath): Freak.

5. Chewing on plastic straws… more specifically, chewing on plastic straws until they are no longer round, but are square instead. It’s a sickness.

6. Fluffing the couch cushions at commercial breaks. Never mind that I sit right back down on them.

7. Starting off the night, laying in bed on my left side, when I know good and well that I will roll over to my right to actually fall asleep. Why not just start on the right? Not sure… I guess I feel like both sides need even wear.

8. Trying to read and pronounce signs backward as I am driving.
POTS! TEGRAT! REGRUBATAHW!

9. Blogging. ;)

I just LOVE matching outfits!!!

Happy Easter from our little chickies!

Hope you have a beautiful and blessed Easter weekend :)