The Pillow I Really, Really, Really Want. (Really)

You know how you try to get comfy to go to sleep and you are soooo tired but you just can't quite get it right. That's when I usually start beating my pillow to death and thrashing about trying to get it just so. See how dogs and cats just go around in a circle until it's perfect? Me- I go serial killer on it thinking that will help.

My husband had a pillow that was almost 15 years old because he said it was the perfect pillow. It was so old it smelled weird but he loved it. One day it actually came undone at the seam and started to molt. My idea was toss it. He simply tied his pillow case in a knot. I wish I had a picture of it. Eventually we had to let it go. Well, he did. It was a sad day. Well, for him.

Two years ago I was at a conference and saw the most. awesome. pillow. evah.
I have wanted one ever since. Here it is:

*insert angelic singing here* ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
Seriously, this is the Technogel Deluxe Pillow.
Deluxe.
I don't have one because they are $160 buck-a-roonies and we would need two. I keep trying to tell the hubs that his return on investment for another 15 year pillow evens out just fine.

ah well. A girl can dream. I'll just be doing it while repeatedly punching my pillow and giving hubs the stink eye.

How much would you pay for awesome?

No disclaimer necessary. I wasn't paid for this post nor was I given a pillow to try. But I would!

Noel, The Elf You Love to Hate

I'm soooo not one of "those" moms. I don't plan meals and rarely cook. When I do it's not good (refer to blog name). I find the school note about Silly Hat Day a week late. I can't even keep up with the 30 days of November facebook posts about what I'm thankful for. I start off with my family and my friends, skip a week in the middle and then the last day of the month I'm thankful for indoor plumbing and on-demand Elmo.

And yet, here I am . . . with my Elf on the Shelf. I have many over achieving Elf mom's. I laughed my butt off when I read this post on the blog People I Want To Punch In The Throat. Last year our Elf did a few fun things and other times he just found a spot he liked and stayed there for a few days. Did anyone else notice those were the days we had soccer practice or mom was cranky and not cooking?? Anyone?

The best is when he was hidden so well that it took her a day or two to find him. I actually started to see where I could hide him just to stretch it out. I think I crossed a line into passive aggressive Elf hate when I put him in my sock drawer for three days. Oops! I guess Noel is at the North Pole telling Santa how you shoved a kid at school and then came home and drew with sharpie on my kitchen table.

So, I'm doing it again this year. I have an 8 year old and a 2 year old. If all the stars align and God sees favor with me, this will be my last year of Santa White Lies to my 8 year old. But then she's got to be in on the act for the 2 year old . . .so at least I'll have a partner in crime. That is, until it's July and she's mad at him for be-heading her Barbie and then she'll have some major ammunition to leverage.

Here's what Noel is up to tonight:

Hopefully she won't wake up at 2am and have to go to the potty. That could really cause some wear and tear on both her nerves and the carpet. 

And here is Noel in his hiding spot:

The single most brilliant story line for the dude that wrote up this crazy story is that the kids can't touch the Elf. If they do, he loses his magic and he can't go back to the North Pole to tell Santa about how they sat around like slugs and watched TV for four hours and STILL managed to destroy an entire living room. How do they do that???

Squirrel. So Noel is here for this month. We'll see how this goes. No promises. And I'm not ruling out the sock drawer again.

Women Who Curse

I work in a department that is made up of four women and two men. We are a fun loving and rowdy group that knows when to turn up the radio and take a three minute FOOTLOOSE dance break and when to put in the headphones and crank stuff out.

But in our office we would say crank shit out. Because we cuss.

Now, we're all church going folks who serve in various capacities of our churches and even know a few verses. We're all believers in do-unto-others, paying for the occasional coffee of the car behind us and praying over friends who are sick or going through rough times. We believe in helping others and being kind.  And we also cuss.

And not just in the stepped-on-a-leggo-in-the-middle-of-the-night kind of cuss (but that kind too). We cuss when we're excited and happy! We cuss when we talk our way through last night's Gray's Anatomy or The Voice. We cuss when we are pissed. Why? Dunno. Never thought about it much until one of the guys said he'd never seen anyone throw down the f-bombs quite like this group, never mind that we are all chicks.

Does it mean something different when a woman cusses than when a man does it?
Does it mean anything significant to cuss or not to cuss?
Does it ever feel good to just . . . .say the f word???
I think sometimes it does. But never in front of my mother.



The above image is from Zazzle.com. This is not an endorsement for their company or their product. I did not receive any compensation for using that photo. I just liked it. My opinions on cursing are my own and in no way reflect the cursing opinions of the folks at Zazzle. 

Hobby Lobby Has It Out For Me

The craft stores have it out for me. They know . . and they taunt me.
Can someone please explain to me why we have Christmas trees up and five rows of ornaments up in August??? So, I get the crazy Canton crafty people that need to make their wares so they are stocked up in time for the Jr. League Holiday Bizarre. Isn't that why we have an internet? So that I don't have to go into Hobby Lobby on a balmy 109 degree August day looking for extra large, multi-colored construction paper to complete my 3rd grade back-to-school shopping list and be taunted by these trees, and lights, and stars and colored shiny balls. They know December will come around and I'll still be unprepared. We both know it. Six months to go by and I'll still be crazy.

How many events do we have between now and Christmas?
- First Day of School
- Labor Day
- Columbus Day
- National Guacamole Day
- Halloween
- Thanksgiving
- Hanuka
- Kwanzaa

That's at least eight. Now seriously . . .I'm still finding Easter decorations that I missed. And did I mention .. .it's 100+ degrees outside!

oh well, at least I have six months to work on my excuses.

Easy as Boiling Water

When I say I can't cook, it's not the kind of statement looking for the "oh, you cook just fine!!" kind of compliment fishing. Seriously. I can barely boil water. I've screwed up so many boiled eggs that I found this handy dandy egg timer from William Sonoma. The best six bucks I've ever spent. The only time I've walked out of William Sonoma with a purchase that didn't require a credit check and a promise of my second born. (too many stories out there about my first born)

First, we boiled the eggs:

Sounds easy enough, right? No fires yet. Success.

Then we color the eggs:

Sorry for the blurry photo. Next blog will be called "Burnt Photos"

We escaped the dying process without any loss of blood or staining of porous tile. Success.

Even though I put all the eggs in the fridge overnight, I still felt iffy about them to actually serve with our Easter meal. Plus I bought waaaaay too many eggs and a family can only eat unless they're on the Atkin's diet so it was the best bet for burning through them. Refer to first photo. Success.

We decided to actually do a project or two from Pinterest and make bunny and chick deviled eggs. They look a little psychotic . . .but close enough to be recognizable. 

All in all we had one claim tummy problems following partaking of the eggs but no one died. Success.

Blogging- It's more than just free stuff

So, I work with a lot of bloggers every day. I read blogs. I even register to win prizes from time to time although I've never actually won. I read tweets and facebook posts. I see blogs come and go. I see blogs grow and grow. One might think: cool! I get tons of free stuff and all I have to do it write a little post here and there. So, check the dates on my last post. I think it was February?? I'm not even sure.
I love the idea of having a blog but it does require a little effort . . .and oh yeah . .committment.

I have gotten a few freebies, that's true. But unless I get serious about this, I'll never grow. I'm not even sure anyone out there wants to hear my thoughts. But alas, cyberspace is a big place. Maybe if I store my thoughts out there, I'll have more room to remember things like field day lunch money and charging my phone.

Date Night and the Art of Reflexology

It's been a while since The Hubs and I have had dinner at a restaurant where 1- didn't ask for a high-chair and 2- actually ordered off the wine list.

We scammed employed my nephew for the evening, had non-veggie foods delivered to our doorstep and ducked out while the everyone was grabbing for the grub,   We even took The Good Car.

First off for a drink at a bar (so we could use their parking lot) and then walked to dinner. Fun was had by all. And then I surprised my husband with a trip to the local reflexology foot massage place otherwise known in my mind as The Place of Chinese Awesomeness and Back Rubbing Giddiness. Giddy? Yes, I was! I actually squealed in delight and clapped my hands when I realized they were open until 10pm.

This part of the date was a surprise to The Hubs and he, of course, eyed me suspiciously. But I totally reassured him that I knew it had been a tough week for him and this was all about relaxing together for both of us and totally left out the part where I've been trying to figure out how to get to this place for two weeks and finally landed on date night so I wouldn't feel guilty about leaving HIM home with the kids while I got my tootsie's rubbed. So, see . . .it's not just for me. I was totally thinking of him.

First they bring out this big bucket of hot water with a tea bag in it and you soak your feet. Aaaahhhh.
Then they start on your head. The ear rubbing kind of hurt but then they did the hands and the arms and each.individual.finger. *sigh*

By this time the water is getting kind of cool so they take that away and start rubbing all the reflexology greatness on your feet and toes and I don't know what all that foot chart means but in my book it's just awesome and if they could only find the spot that turns off the part of my brain where that spends this relaxing hour making grocery lists in my head, remember what's due at my kid's school and wondering how old the wet clothes in the washer are and if I'm going to have to restart it . . .again.

Then the slapping starts and I know that sounds totally weird but petite Asian women who know how to work my feet and then start slapping my legs . . i don't know. It was just heaven!

This is also when I realize The Hubs has fallen asleep and is starting to snore.
He didn't even wake up when they put the hot towels on our feet. Later he even said, "they used hot towels??" 

About this time some new clients walk in. It's another couple. I can't see them but the wife comes in first and then the husband who WREAKS of cigarette smoke. UGH!

Then they flip you over and start on your back. So the cool thing about this is that they do all this and you don't have to take off your clothes. I have some friends who visit a Korean Spa and they go all crazy with the naked time and love it, but it's just not for me.

That little lady actually climbed on top of me and started to dig her elbows into my back and shoulder blades and spine. By the time she was done I didn't know if I should smoke a cigarette or maybe just french kiss the dude on the second row.

When it was over and I had to sit up I felt like a jelly fish. By the time we got home the kids were in bed. After the babysitter was paid and goodbye's we did exactly you do when you have a wonderful meal, great conversation and a hour and a half of Chinese rub-down.

We got in bed . . .and went to sleep.