Super Grump

So if you don't know, I have had a headache for 6 days straight. This has been an extreme amount of fun and I really hope that it continues. It feels like the crew from "Stomp" is having rehearsal inside my brain. I am afraid at this point that my liver is going to keel over from all the acetaminophen that I have taken, which by the way is quite a bit. I was hoping to have a fun and bubbly post this week, but as I mostly feel like biting someone, I don't think that is going to happen.

On Friday night, I took 2 Lortabs leftover from my surgery- I slept ok, but woke up with the headache anyway and a nauseous Lortab hangover all day on Saturday. So that was loads of fun as well. I guess I need to go see my doctor, but it really seems pointless and after my ordeal from last year- I feel that I have lost all faith in those "practicing" medicine. I think that it is hormones and stress, but that is just my guess.

So if you believe in prayer, say one for me and pray especially for K who has to listen to me whine. Laters.

Twinkle, Twinkle Little Saturn

Tonight was star gazing. An event hosted by my work for the Greenwich community to see the stars with a lecture from an astronomer. I froze my butt off in a horse field for almost two hours to see Saturn through a telescope. It was cool, but a little bit of a letdown. It looked like someone had taken a tiny silhouette sticker and pasted it onto the end of the telescope. It was a tiny, bright shape with the ring clearly visible. Cool but worth freezing- I don't know.

I did see an awesome shot of the moon-all the craters showing and so close that it seemed like I could just grab hold of it.

One of our kind board members pointed out Orion's belt and the Big Dipper to me. I just nodded and acted like I agreed with her, but to be honest I was not much of an astronomy student. I suppose if things were critical and I had to find Orion's belt I would give it my best shot- but I normally have a hard time figuring out which way is East. I will state that I have an excellent sense of direction, mine just works different than most folks.

All in all it was a fun night with the best part being that I learned that Wintergreen Lifesavers really do spark in the dark. Who knew? Laters.

Life Sacred and Beautiful

These are some things I saw today that make life worth living:

A man and his dog riding together in the car, dog grinning a huge doggie grin as they cruised the road.

A woman standing at a grave in the cemetery, sorrow written on her face

Sher sleeping in my bed with Lambie, ten minutes after she defiantly told me "I'm never going to sleep tonight."

The lightning and thunder and rain.

The crinkle in the corner of K's eyes when he laughs.

A lovely latte and Chocolat Easter bunnies at a French bakery- Merci.

Reag reading his poem.

Ry joking with me.

Pizza warm in a cardboard box.

The smile of a friend.

The moment of inspiration.

The joy of a shared joke.

The comfort of a warm bed with cozy sheets.

My green shoes.

The Word, inspired, alive.

The sound of car wheels swishing by in the rain through the open window.

 

 

 

½ Hearted

Tonight was Earth Hour- A one hour window where all good citizens turn off the electricity in their homes to celebrate environmental awareness. The only glitch for the Mullins home was that tonight was also the "Nickelodeon Kid's Choice Awards." How unfortunate for Mother Earth that she had to battle with slime, teen singers, the cast of the Jonas Brothers and High School Musical and Spongebob Square Pants.

I am sure that you have guessed by now who won, and it wasn't Mother Earth.

Anyway, K and I turned off all the other lights and appliances in the house except for the TV (though K did use the microwave for popcorn, but it was really quick) and felt that we at least acknowledged that we were cognizant of the occasion. Reagan volunteered to turn the lights off after the show was over. Just about bedtime then- so perfect timing. As we turn all the lights off every night; I don't see how it will interest Mother Earth, but never let it be said that the Mullins aren't environmentally aware. Laters.

Summertime Blues

I am looking forward to the days of heat and sweat and the smell of coconut suntan oil.

I am looking forward to saying "Lordy, its hot." And "You could cook an egg on this sidewalk." Instead of "Dang its cold." And "Snow again?"

I am ready for flip-flops and summer hair and long cotton dresses without sleeves. I am ready for watermelon and popsicles on the front porch while my feet bake in the sun.

I am ready for green grass and boat rides and walks to the park in the late afternoon swelter. Ready for tan skin and short shorts and snappy summer sandals.

I am ready for a change.

Mending Wall

Here is the selection for Poetry Thursday. This is a favorite of mine. Good food for thought.

Mending Wall

By Robert Frost

Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of outdoor game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors.'
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
'Why do they make good neighbors? Isn't it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offense.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, 'Good fences make good neighbors.'

L I B M R Ducks (I think)....

Can you see the tiny specks in the distance? Those are ducks (maybe geese?) at the lake across from my work. I am taking a break from the office thinking about how life is not fair with the top unfair things being:
1. Why to I have to spend so much time doing things I don't want to do, that aren't any fun like work, routine oil changes, and yearly check-ups?

2. Why do I have cellulite? That is so unfair.

3. What if these ducks/ geese attack me? Cause they are getting mighty close. That would be unfair since I only want to share their beauty with the blogging community. Even if they are blurry and hard to see.

4. The price of a Starbucks is supremely unfair.

So that is all that came to mind, but the ducks/geese seemed to care less about my musing and mostly just pecked around on the ground.

Back to work for me. Laters.

Been There, Done That.

Feeling sentimental today. I am taking dinner to a friend who just had a baby and it got me thinking about my own kids.

I will start by saying that I have the three most wonderful, and talented children alive today. They are only slightly, if ever naughty and I think that is because as Ry says, I am a "bomb mom." I have no idea what that means but I think that he likes me.

I will answer an age old question- why do women always feel the need to talk about their births and labors and tell every minute detail? to the best of my ability.

I did because I was amazed that I lived through it and I felt like everyone should know. I mean, OMG- what an experience. Having done both natural and drugged births I can't decide which was better. The drugged I guess, 'cause I always felt sweet and sentimental and slightly relieved that I was not attached to my lower body other than connective tissue and had no mental thumbprint of all the agony that had just befallen my nether regions. When I had a natural birth, the euphoria was gone and I lay on the bed talking to myself like a crazed person while everyone else admired the baby. I've seen junkies in the subway that have the same panic in their voices. I said to the room at large, "Why did I do that? Why didn't I get an epidural?" I went on like that for some time, repeating the same thing over and over, until they brought me my son and then I remembered why immediately.

Wiser words have never been said than my mother's when I labored on baby number 3. "You know honey; you don't get a medal for doing this. You can have drugs."

Epidural for me and sweet, sweet euphoria. You do what you want. Laters.

What Did I Come In Here For?

Sher made everyone name labels for their doors over the week-end. Now I will always know which room is mine. This is helpful to me because I do often forget things. I am especially bad with birthdays, but I know that none of you hold it against me.

I am turning into the old lady that I always made fun of. Last week I went downstairs, stood in the basement for 5 minutes talking to myself trying to say something, anything to jog my brain as to why I was in the basement. I couldn't remember, so I went upstairs. I could see myself going up and down all night, so I just gave up and pretended like I had whatever it was. If I can't remember- then I guess I don't need it. I still don't know what I went down for, so I hope that it wasn't one of the kids.

If I forgot to say so, I love you all. Laters.

Beautiful Feet

Some scriptural inspiration:

Song Of Solomon 7:1 How beautiful are thy feet with shoes, O prince's daughter! the joints of thy thighs are like jewels, the work of the hands of a cunning workman.

Solomon's Beloved must have been rocking some cool, spring shoes like these which I can relate to, although I am sad to report that on the thigh part mine would probably read " the joints of thy thighs are slightly chubby, but cunning nonetheless.

I just liked my feet and shoes today and I wanted some Scripture to back me up. Laters.

All's Hair In Love and War

So Sher found me out. Last night as we cuddled and talked about girly stuff she noticed that as she put it, “You have long, short hairs under your arms.”
Ok, I admit it. I shave once a week whether I need it or not and that magic day is on Sunday. I occasionally up the frequency in the summer or on really special occasions like weddings and bar mitzvahs. (I mean I probably would if I were ever invited to a bar mitzvah, but I digress)
As it was Friday night, the ritual shaving had not yet taken place for the week.
So she made lots of fun of me and then K chimed in and agreed that it was super gross and I was like “shut up” to both of them.
For a little J-back (kinda like pay back- only worse)as K was trying to drift off to dreamland, I just rubbed my gross, hairy pits right in his face.
I don’t think he minded one bit. Laters.

Is There Anything Worse?

OK, other than death and destruction and hemorrhoids is there anything sadder than this? This is what the toilet paper looks like about 95% of the time when I go into the bathroom, and for certain and always at 2:30 a.m. in the dark.

Unfortunately, I am the only one in the home qualified to make the necessary repairs (otherwise known as putting on a new roll) since this is very specialized work and most probably the closest job there is to rocket science. I know this because no one else can figure it out.

So I begin my normal rant directed at no one in particular that sounds like this, "Why am I the only one in this house who can change this dang toilet paper. I mean come on."

All the men/boys completely ignore me, but Sher does wander over for a curious look. I am sure that she realizes she will have to take on this huge responsibility herself someday when she has a home of her own.

Remember over not under!! Laters!

My Son's Poem

Its poetry Thursday again and tonight for your enjoyment I am posting a poem by my son, Reagan. I will preface the post by saying that he is one of the most thoughtful, clever boys I know and I think that his poems should be published. He has quite the portfolio, but this one is my current favorite because I love William Carlos Williams myself.

Warm

inspired by William Carlos Williams The Red Wheel Barrow

So much depends upon

a white radiator

sputtering through the night

looming in my room

I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did and yes I am so proud of him!!

$10 Questions

Posing a few questions today:

1. This one is Sher's- how does snot get in your nose?
   
2. This is purely hypothetical- If one is a huge klutz and feels really old and ungainly should that person continue going to belly dancing class?
   
3. If you are more comfortable in granny panties than a thong, is it ok to wear them with low rise jeans and just roll them down so they don't show?( I am hoping yes to this one.)
   
4. Does a quick swipe of toner constitute "cleansing" your face?
   
5. Will 5 cups of coffee in the a.m. hurt you? Again purely hypothetical.
   
6. Is there really a big tank of poo under the city from all the toilet flushes?
   
7. Lastly, could one feasibly sue the liquor store next to their house for having beer deliveries at 4am, for severely disturbing ones sleep? This is not hypothetical.
   

If you have all the answers let me know. I don't have a clue.

Irish Wish List

I am sorry to report that I have done no shenanigans for St. Patrick's Day. I did have some intentions, but between work, the excel sheets from hell, Sher's swim lessons, (I rode the stationary bike for 20 minutes while I waited and I will tell you my butt was killing me) and going to the grocery store I just couldn't fit any naughtiness in.

Here is what I planned to do and if I am independently wealthy next year with a nanny who carts my kids around maybe I will fit the list in then:

1. Moon someone. (this could be anyone- but would be more fun if they were stuffy or old and they would have to be really shocked)
   
2. Drink a whole pint of Guinness. (since I had Guinness in an actual bar in Ireland and took a mini-tour of the factory-also in Ireland, I am gonna say this might not happen. Guinness tastes really bad)
   
3. Kiss the Blarney Stone (i.e. I was in Ireland and now I am not- so it was not possible)
   
4. Meet up with some loud and raucous frat boys in a bar and have them make me their Irish Queen. They will then be forced to do demeaning errands for me (oh wait, that was last night's dream, never mind)
   
5. Wear a headband with the shamrocks attached on bendy, wire coils that bounce around all day. (Those are cool and I think that Target has them in the $1 bin so I can afford it)
   
6. Say "Top 'o the Morning" to everyone- all day, even in the afternoon. (I will note that no one ever said that to me whilst I was in Ireland so I don't know how authentic it is)
   
7. Trick someone into eating Blood Pudding. (This is authentic to Ireland and probably the grossest thing you will ever put in your mouth. K almost yaked when he tried it.)
   
8. Win the lotto- you know, the "Luck of the Irish."
   
9. Do a killer Irish step- dance and have people say "oh Jacinta, you are the Lord of The Dance. Who is this Michael Flatley character?" (I can't even describe how cool that would be. Superstar!)
   
10. Actually make cabbage. I mean does anyone?
    

So that is all. If next year you hear tale of a step-dancing queen who mooned someone old and stuffy, you will know who it was. Laters

 

I've Got the Greens

Sher and I are getting our headstart for St. Patrick's Day. She was surprised to learn that she does not get the day off from school. I totally agree that it's a bummer, but I was not consulted by the cosmic holiday scheduling person or else I would have made a lot of changes in general.

If I had my way, there would be a holiday every week and I would only work 10 to noon. So instead of being too blue about the "not a true holiday status" we just decided to pick out our green outfits and do some mighty fine nail paint.
Top 'O The Mornin' to all!

J Time

What a weekend! The boys were gone on a trip, so K and I used it as an excuse to do all the things that we can't do while the boys are here 'cause they don't like to do anything good. I don't really know if Sher and K enjoyed themselves, but I sure the heck did.

When the boys are home its like "Oh, lets go to the park" or "Can we ride our bikes" or "Lets go see (fill in current lame-o kids movie here) at the movies."
And I'm like, "Ugh, no. Can't we just go shopping?" and they are like "Ewww, shopping, I would rather a piano fall on my head." And I'm like, "I'll show you a piano falling on your head. Get in the car." I love to repeat their comments back to them in a threatening manner. I think that it is sort of Godfatherish and cool, and you know that if you don't scare them early you are done for.

So anyway, we ate out almost every meal. Yeah!! I LOVE eating out. I got a new dishwasher installed, double Yeah!! and we went to the mall and a couple of open houses that are on the market which was really fun. I love to do that and isn't it interesting what other people think is good decor? I did see a couple of sweet bathrooms in one house. One- tub, tile, sink and toilet all yellow and the other in a lovely all pink selection. Can you say '70's? I can't describe my horror.

So it was a great weekend. Laters.

Too Bad, So Sad

Here is my Forever 21 bag. See how forlorn it is. Cause I am a liar. I am not 21. I am really on the negative side of 30. So why do I persist on shopping here and receiving cross "why-is-this-old-lady-in-here-with-her-kids" looks. Well I will tell you why:

1. Cause it's cheap clothes.
2. Cause in my head I am hot and 21.
3. ....... um....well, that's it.

You should go in sometime yourself. You know who you are!

Why Does Everything Have To Be So Hard?

There was something special that I was hoping for. I had really put myself out there on this one, potentially exposing my psyche to all sorts of hurtful things. Putting myself out there, something that I rarely, if ever, do.
I put it all on the line and I was denied, shot down, not good enough. Thanks, but we regret to inform you.......blah, blah, blah. I knew it was coming anyway.

For some reason I thought that this "thing" would validate me as a person and force everyone else to do the same. To value me for who I am and what I have to offer.
So now, no one is forced to validate me. Shoot!! What am I gonna do now. I have to keep working and making good choices and putting myself out there-which sucks.
I wanted a small dose of instant gratification, but I was DENIED again! No, I am not upset, but I wish that my fairy godmother was on the job sometimes and that for once I could get everything I want, the way I want it. I would have loved this chance.

Ok-so now I am done and I don't want to ever talk about this again.

Something funny- I had my blog open with the Good Mother heading and Sher says to me, "Mom, I am offended, you have to learn to be a Good Mother?"
Ha- if she only knew what a guinea pig she is.
Happy Friday!

So, its poetry Thursday. It was going to be poetry Friday, but it’s Thursday and I have poems, so I am just going with it. These are some lovely original poems about my dear little chickens so I hope that you enjoy. If you don’t like them- don’t ever tell me because I think they are the best.

This one is for Reagan:
Are
By
Jacinta Mullins

I love to be with you
A small blonde cricket
You chirp and laugh and talk all day
I mostly see the top of hair
As you dig and search for bugs
I am drawn to your bright
Like a moth
So is everyone else
Inside I smile
I am your source of life
Somehow you are mine

This one is Ryley:

Reflections
By
Jacinta Mullins

This is the son of magic
The fabled first born
The son of power
The son of my right hand
What weight rests on your thin shoulders
I remove it now
You are free
You are my cherished boy
The one who first opened my heart
The bringer of love
Be what you want
Lean on my strength I am strong
You are a wonder

Last, but not least, Sheridan:
Blink
By
Jacinta Mullins

In the gray between light and dark
I lie in bed holding two hands
My husband, my daughter, and me
He sleeps, his hand loose in mine.
Her hand is restless, looking for sleep again.
I am there to think of love, dreams, and ambition
What I would will for her life
I don’t want to close my eyes.
If I blink I know
She will be lying in bed with a husband and daughter of her own.

Ahoy Captain

I wish you all could have seen this guy. I tried to take his picture with my iphone, but he was way too spry.

Imagine every stereotypical picture of a grizzled sea captain that you have ever seen- the guy from "Jaws", the fisherman from Mrs. Paul's fish sticks, etc.

There he was right in front of me riding a bike, a bike I tell you, with his frazzled white beard, down to his chest, a captain's hat on, and wearing a smart mackintosh that fit his sea captain vibe perfectly. And as he rode merrily in the rain he was smoking a PIPE!!! I kid you not; he puffed out little clouds of pipe smoke as he waited for the light to change.

Ok- recap, sea captain, bike, captain's hat, mackintosh, and a lit pipe. The best and perhaps most incongruent part was that he was wearing knee-high leather horseback riding boots, but he was riding so who am I to criticize?

All I could think was "Wow- I am so jealous of you, wearing your cool captain outfit, smoking a pipe while riding your bike in the rain."

Some people have cooler jobs than me.

Good Old Pants

These are my black pants. Get used to seeing them cause I have worn them to work everyday for the last 2 weeks and I plan to continue the trend.

Black is the wear with everything color that I have had a long, love affair with. Nothing, and I mean nothing beats a hot, black dress. Not that these pants are hot, but I work in an office where most often the only people I see are me, myself and I, so I don't have to worry too much about how I look.

My black pants are trusty and hide the stains from all my junk food quite well. They also hold their shape and have very few wrinkles after being left in the floor all night inside out- which is my normal evening routine. In the a.m.- none of the "what to wear" conundrum for me. Simply shake pants, apply deodorant to underarms, dab of perfume, clean shirt and I am good to go.

Plus, black pants go with anything. Case in point, not once has anyone said to me, "You wore those black pants yesterday." That's cause no one can tell. Black pants hide it all.

So my advice- get a pair an wear 'em. Its so fun.

Honor to Whom Honor Is Due

When I first went back to college I was a nursing major. I was the child who went through many a doctor kit from Wal-Mart and the medical profession held a sick allure for me. (pun definitely intended)

Like all bureaucracy, which is meant to suck all joy from your life and keep you from taking any classes that actually pertain to your major, my alma mater, UTM required you to take English 111 and 112.

I signed up with no small amount of trepidation and found myself in the class room of MA. I will call her that to protect her secret retirement identity.

English 111 was fun and MA was a great teacher. I wrote about whatever the hell stupid thing came into my head that day, much like I do now, and MA LIKED it. In fact every paper that I turned in she treated like a Pulitzer Prize submission with plenty of oh's and ah's and lots of encouraging notes penciled in to little ol' me. I am ashamed to say that I developed quite the big head.

Then we had our "writer's conference" and MA said "Jacinta, you are a writer, you should be an English major." And just like that, lickety-split, over to the Dean's office I went to change my major. The nurses weren't happy about it but, dang it, I was a writer and I had no time for their silly foibles.

Whether or not I will be a famous writer or even a good writer remains to be seen, but my point is- never underestimate the power of someone believing in you and your abilities. It worked for me.

Funny Quote

"Everything inside me is made of sugar and flour and a little red wine – a lot of red wine."
– Reese Witherspoon, illustrating her lack of dieting concerns, to Elle magazine

 

This is now my funny quote of the week and oh so true!

Why yes,

This is a pic of the snazzy chapeau (that's "hat" for all you non-French speaking people like me) that I wore to church today. It has all the things I love- feathers, stiff netting, and it was black and saucy.

I felt pretty happy while I was wearing it, though I did think, hmmmm... what will people think? And then I realized that I don't care. I love my hat and my hat loves me and it looks pert and adorable on top of my head so that is all that matters.

If you really must know- I got several compliments, a few WTF? stares, and a couple of nervous giggles. So I am counting it as a big hit.

Working on the Easter hat now-thinking Kentucky Derby- so get ready for some major hat folks!

Demons Out

I think I am losing it- and no comments from the peanut gallery.

I have lost the evil shopping demon that once inhabited this frail body. I can't tell you number of times that I went to Target with no money and by "no" I mean buying new placemats or paying my rent. And guess which won. Oh, but they were some damn fine placemats and they spiced up the table right nice.

I had a lot missing in my life and shopping made me feel good and dulled my senses with the euphoria that only a grande latte and a new pair of shoes can provide. Countless times, I neglected the things that mattered so that I could purchase a quick fix of shopping high.

Today I went to the mall and bought the kids a few things, but I left Lush with no bath bombs, and Forever 21 with only a token head band and a cheap necklace. I didn't even go in the shoe store!! I actually thought about the budget and the rest of the month and the summer, and the future. And then I felt sick with all the fiscal responsibility so I did have a latte, but I haven't had a coffee out all week so I deserved it.

Either things are going better for me personally or I am really sick and I need a girlfriend to come take me to buy shoes and placemats.

Probably it's the latter so I will be waiting on the porch for a ride to Target.

Take it off and leave it

This is how I felt about today. Just take it off and leave it. Inside
out, on the floor, over and done. Happy Friday!

Dear Mom

Dear Mom,

I have been missing you a lot lately and I wish I could see you. I want to come to your house with all the big windows and open space and lie in bed in the mornings listening to you hum as you water your flowers outside my window. I want that guilty feeling of sleeping in while you play with my kids outside in the garden. I want to wake up and get some coffee that is ready, that I don't make myself, and drink it out in the pergola while sweating in early morning sun.

I miss butter beans and turnip greens and fried chicken. I never have them at my house and they never taste the same anyway when I make them. I also want a tuna sandwich made by your hands; you make the best ones with a nice side of plain old Lays.

I know you have a new bathroom upstairs and I am excited to see that as well cause last time we slept up there I almost peed my pants during the night cause I didn't want to walk all the way downstairs. I want to see all the work that Dad "does" that you really do so I can hear him brag.

I want Sher to see you every day like she used to. I miss all your good bargains that you find at yard sales and Fred's Dollar Store.

I mostly want to say that I miss you and I am thinking about you always.

Love,

Jacinta

 

eek

Should I be worried that my total at CVS today was $6.66?

I almost bought some potato chips to round out the number, but I am forsworn off those particular morsels of crunchy goodness 'cause they have a weird way of showing up on my butt.

I got two creative idea shout outs today. One, for my Geico commercial idea for the church sermon series and another for my kayak race idea at work. So go me and my hot little brain.

So that's all I got. See you tomorrow.

Well, that didn’t work

I read an article about ways to save money. One idea was for the person who was not an impulse shopper to be designated the grocery purchaser.

Since I have been known to buy pretty large things on impulse, like 4 gallons of ketchup at Costco or a car, and K is a by the list guy, I designated him the grocery buyer.

He was sent to Costco with the most stringent of lists that I only called a few times to alter; I thought that we could walk away having only spent a meager 50 bucks or so.

Wrong! K is a closet impulse buyer!

Oh, he had me fooled with his "give me a list" approach, but when he unloaded the mini pepperoni bits, the rice krispy treats, granola bars, and pudding cups (yes, I said pudding cups) none of which were on the list- I knew that he could never be allowed into Costco alone again.

Now, what will we do with two impulse buyers in the fam?

This does not bode well for our economic stability.

Thanks God!

Thanks God for the March snow storm that gave me a day at home with my
family. No work or school or anything. I really appreciate it. I know you see everything, so you know that I am still in my pajamas. At 10:30 on a Monday morning. How cool is that?

Well, thanks again and have a great week.

Love,
Jacinta

P.S. I am ready for Spring now. It's pretty cold.

Letting It All Hang Out

Ok- Imagine that you are lying on a table wearing only a pair of paper underpants.

And imagine that a technician that you knew very little about and in fact had only just met was smearing you from head to toe with warm, rose scented goo.

Remember that you have on only paper underpants and now the goo is cold and you are freezing.

Imagine that the same technician, once you are completely covered in goo, wraps you like a huge burrito in warm towels and a solar blanket and leaves you in a quiet room with some kickin' Peruvian hornpipe music playing lightly in the background and you fall asleep and rapidly begin drooling on said blankets.

Then imagine that in half an hour, she comes quietly in the room, kindly wipes away your drool without saying a word about it and then tells you to step over to the nice hot shower to rinse off the rosy goo.

Remember that you are wearing paper underpants.

Imagine that you have had three lovely children and that your boobs hang slightly lower than they should and your butt has a few (ok, a lot of) lumpy spots and you really suck in your tummy at the pool so it isn't all out there.

Imagine walking confidently to the shower, paper underpants, rosy goo, and sucking it all in while pretending that you have the boobs you did when you were 20. All in front of the technician that you only just met.

Imagine that the hot shower was great and that you felt very dashing prancing around in paper undies. Imagine that all of the soap in the shower smelled good and you couldn't pick which one to use so you just used them all.

Imagine that your technician had kindly left the room after removing the gooey, rosy sheets and remaking the bed for your facial (which was next), so drying off was a piece of cake and you had a lovely white robe to put on and no paper underpants in sight.

Imagine that you had one of your best days ever…………