The Wonderful Thing About Tiggers

I was at home, very pleasantly enjoying a few rare moments alone. Schmobie was at playgroup, and another mother would be bringing him home. Imagine my surprise when the doorbell rang, and THIS little creature came bounding in...
Apparently, Schmobie tried on this costume at playgroup, and had a fit when it came time to take it off and go home. The mother who hosted the playgroup very generously offered to let Schmobie keep it until the next playgroup date. I wonder if she knows that he then wore it for the next two days straight, with only very fervent bribes allowing us to get it off of him at night.

"They're bouncy, trouncy, flouncy, pouncy;
Fun, fun, fun, fun, FUN!"

I was a little worried that he wouldn't be able to return it. But he must've had enough Tigger by then, 'cause he was surprisingly cool with it.

Bibliophile

Can I be honest with you here? (If I'm discussing childhood forays into pet shops, I s'pose I already am...) Over the last year, I've really missed shopping. I wasn't even much of a shopper beforehand--I find the whole experience vaguely overwhelming. It must be a "forbidden fruit" kind of thing. Once you can't do it...

Of course, we do still shop for groceries. And the kids still need socks once in a while. And I'll be darned if I spend a year w/o makeup. (Trust me, I'm doing you all a favor here.) :) ...But everything else has pretty much been put on hold.

Funny how doing without helps you sort out your priorities. When I was on my mission in the Dominican Republic (think, tropical island...very warm), whenever we fasted, all I wanted was water. Food, of course, would have been nice, but I desperately missed, craved, fantasized about a nice, tall, cold glass of agua. Three or four ice cubes, condensation beading around the sides...(Yes, you see. A lot of thought went into this.)

A similar thing is happening now. Scratch and I have a wish list a mile long, and as soon as one of us is permanently, gainfully employed the local economy will receive a big ol' boost from us alone. But the one thing that I find I really miss, that I desperately want to open up the dusty wallet and buy, is books. Books. Books, books, glorious books! Yep, they are my passion, my must-have, the thing I cannot do without.

Granted, there is the library, and believe you me, it has seen a lot of activity from this household, but some things you just gotta own. Like, books where you are #600 on the library waiting list:


Game Change--Largely unsourced, fairly controversial, but loaded with juicy, behind-the-scenes details of the 2008 presidential race. The book may only be a plumped up, trumped up, and (hopefully) better-written version of the National Enquire, but I've gotta read it. We all have our weaknesses.

(**Update--weakness indeed. I found some birthday money I'd been holding onto and bought Game Change yesterday afternoon. Now I can't seem to put it down--for all you political junkies out there, it's a fascinating read.)


Catching Fire--Confession time: after reading The Hunger Games, I simply could not sit by and idly wait. So I bought the sequel--just as good!


And then there are the books that fall into the "read them, loved them, gotta own them" category:

The afore-mentioned Hunger Games--like the Harry Potter series, this is something deserving of bookshelf space. In my opinion.


The Sparrow--my latest must-read. Soooo good!

Let It Snow

That once a year occurance--Snow!--hit our area during Winter Break. No extra school off (darn it!), but the kids still enjoyed it!

Schmobie bundled up by trying on every scarf in the house!

(I could kiss on those cheeks all day! ...Wait, I think I already do!!)

It's a Dangerous World in Here

Our computer seems to have been bitten by a rather nasty virus. Despite tons of anti-virus programs, and firewalls, and more techno-stuff that I can't pronounce and do not understand anyway, the virus persists.

One of the "symptoms" of this lovely little bug is that it'll open up new windows while you are on the web. Unsolicited windows. Usually, this is just annoying. I close the window and get back to whatever I was doing.

Today, just a few short minutes ago, in fact, I was innocently looking up overcast stitching on Google. I'm supposed to sew ribbons on Cici's ballet shoes, which is turning into rather an ordeal based purely on the fact that I am truly, truly challenged when it comes to sewing. But I digress. I was sitting here, trying to figure out what the site meant by "raw edges," and how the heck I was supposed to keep from puncturing the leather of the ballet shoe while making very tiny, zigzag stitches, when a new window popped open. All I could think was, "My eyes! My eyes!!" I had an immediate flashback to 4th grade when my Bluebird troop took a field trip to a pet store and I had my first (and last) run-in with a carnivorous bullfrog--and a certain genre of magazine.

The bullfrog was enormous--hugely fat, as round as a dinner plate. Our troop had arrived just in time to witness his dinner. An employee unceremoniously scooped up a tiny mouse from one cage, and put the mouse, still alive, in the frog's cage. The little thing sat there trembling. Actually trembling! I wasn't a rodent fan by any stretch, but my heart broke. I asked the employee if the frog would just eat him alive like that, and he shrugged his shoulders and said, "Yeah." It was a pretty startling introduction to the dog eat dog, or in this case, bullfrog eat mouse, world.

The mag was in the bathroom--a unisex room with no stalls and one toilet. It was just lying there on a stack of other magazines, and my bored nine-year-old self picked it up and opened it. Right to the center. It wasn't just one picture, but a series of shots...and as I'm quite positive you'd rather I not go into detail, let's just say that this poor, sheltered Bluebird got a quick and immediate education in a few things. (Hey, Mom and Dad! You still there? I bet you never heard THIS story before, huh?) Thoroughly traumatized now, I threw the magazine down. I don't THINK I was permanently scarred, but to this day, I associate a certain multibillion-dollar industry with flesh-eating bullfrogs. (Uh, Mom? Dad? I'm beginning to think this was all your fault--you really should have taught me to NOT pick things up from strange bathroom floors.)

Little-shop-of-horrors memories aside, this whole business has me a little worried. I'm not the only one who uses this computer. More and more, the elementary and middle schools assign homework online. What to do, what to do??? Any ideas, solutions, fixes? Or should I just accept that, like that magazine left laying around the bathroom, these things will happen--and most likely, our kids won't be scarred? I guess, in so many ways and despite our best efforts, our kids' education is out of our hands.

Bugmanism #8554

Me: "What part of 'Please stop doing that!' did you not understand?"

Bugman: "The 'Please stop doing that!' part."

Thirteen

We have a teenager in the house! Our beautiful Cici turned 13. Unbelievable. Where has the time gone?!!
For her birthday, Scratch, Cici, Bugman and I went to see Avatar. Cici loved it!! Afterward, we had cake and ice cream.

So many candles!!I can't believe she ate the whole thing....! ;)Cici only asked for two things: book 4 and book 5 of the Percy Jackson series.Schmobie shows an interest too. (Even if he is reading upside down...!)
Cici takes some self-portraits. Yep, she's definitely a teenager...

Speaking of "thirteen," my parents welcomed grandkids eleven, twelve and thirteen into the fold over the last few months.

Here's #11: darling Little Mac, born in October.

Yes, he's a Cougar already.
I have a special place in my heart for Little Mac. He was born while I was in Utah--in fact, the day before we were returning home--so I was able to meet him in person. Thanks for coming a little early so I could hold you, Little Mac!!


#12 and 13--twins!!--arrived earlier this month. My mom flew out to New York to help out.
BB, the girl, came first and weighed 8 lbs. 13 oz.!!! The boy, "I", wasn't much smaller at 7 lbs. 8 oz. Huge for twins!! My poor sis was carrying 16 pounds of baby!! (How's your back, sis?)
At home, BB on left, "I" on right. (It's not easy coming up with all these nicknames!!)

Yay for the Jogging Fat Girl!

A new year is here, along with a new resolve to lose weight, eat right and exercise. (Scratch just rolls his eyes when I start my new plans--which should give you a clue about their success rate.)

Do you know what a big pet-peeve of mine is? When people say, "Good for you!" Like when I am out running, and someone I know sees me and shouts out, "Good for you!" Or when someone at church notices that I've lost some weight and says, "Good for you!" I hate it. It just reminds me of what a fat cow I've let myself become. I don't go up to skinny people and say, "Good for you for not letting yourself go!" Does anyone? No, no. They save such "accolades" for the big girls.

I know, I know, very silly of me...these people all mean well. But still. ;)