Girl party at my house

Well, maybe. This is last minute, but if anyone wants to come over tonight to play Rock Band with me, then please do. The rockin' will start at 8:15. I will amaze you with my mad
gee-tar skills. Call me or email if you wanna come, and I'll be sure not to be in my underwear when I answer the door.

Here's my email, but write it with no spaces. sheyenne alvarez at yahoo . com And change the 'at' to an @. Hope I see someone tonight. (Please be my friends!)

My son the hunchback

This is how I found Dario Jr. sleeping last night. That big lump under the blanket is his hamper. Besides the castle that he's sleeping on, there was a big pile of toys hidden under the blanket with him. He woke up as I was pulling the hamper out and said, "Hey! You're ruining my hideout!", then promptly fell back asleep.

Guess who was in the closet?

I've harnessed her powers for good

I am brilliant. Or maybe not so brilliant since this hadn't occurred to me until now.
I can't stand icky squishy gooey raw meat of the non-slab variety. (Steaks and pork chops I can handle). I don't want to touch it or have it touch me in any way. When I buy family packs of ground beef I have been known to go so far as to promise special "favors" ,(ahem), to my husband to get him to separate it into smaller portions so I don't have to touch it.

Sooo, the other night I wanted to make meatballs, but as I contemplated whether it was worth the full-on meat to skin contact I would have to make to get them, I had a stroke of brilliance. My daughter loves goo and muck and slime. The more disgusting it is, the more she likes it. Why hadn't this occurred to me before? "Gabby!" I called. "Do you want to make meatballs? You can squish the meat in your fingers and pretend it's brains!" When she heard the word 'brains', she was all over it. And thus, we had very yummy, very well combined meatballs. Sometimes I'm so smart I scare myself.

From awesome-est to lousy in less than a day

Remember when I told you I was the most awesome-est wife ever? Well, I was mistaken. Very sorely mistaken. Because the most awesome-est wife ever wouldn't leave her two year old to play in the shower when she got out, whereupon he would plug the drain with a washcloth in order to make a pool for himself. Would she now? No. The answer is a big fat NO. The most awesome-est wife ever wouldn't do that. I suck.
So there I was, sitting at the computer while the bathroom, and then the walk-in closet, was flooding. Flooding to the point where it seeped through the floor boards in the closet and started to drain into the vent and leak into the dining room downstairs. The dining room with my new wood floors. That aren't supposed to get wet.
So I'm sitting here relaxing and listening to the water run in the bathroom, blissfully unaware that anything of that nature was going on, when I hear Dario frantically screaming at me from downstairs. He's screaming at me to shut of the water and get towels. ALL of the towels!
Needless to say, we had a little situation on our hands. The carpet and padding in the closet were sopping wet. We had to clear everything out of the closet,rip up the carpet, and remove the padding. Then I called a ton of water restoration places and got quotes to dry it all out. The damage? $625. And that's after taking the lowest quote and talking another guy down based on that. And, we have to listen to these huge fans blowing for 3 days probably.
And that, my friends, is not very awesome.

I am the most awesome-est wife on the planet

Today is Dario's 30th birthday. Happy Birthday honey! And I am the most awesome-est bestest ever wife on the planet, because I got him a Playstation 3. AND RockBand. Thank you. Thank you very much. Hold your applause please. And I was sneaky about it too. I went out yesterday to GameStop, after calling all over town and finally finding a place that had a Playstation in stock, and picked these beauties up. Then I took them over to our babysitters' house (who would be watching the kids as we went to Dario's movie of choice where I would not complain once about what he chose. See? Awesome. I told you.) I had their mom sneak the goods over to our house after we left. I told them to leave the RockBand game out on the ottoman where Dario could see it and put the Playstation under the kitchen sink so he couldn't see it. My plan was for him to see the game and I would act all excited to give it to him, but then he'd have to break it to me that it could only be played on Playstation 3. I don't play video games normally, so he'd totally buy that I didn't know any better. And it worked just as planned. And my acting was SO good. Let me just say that. Because it was. He was all, "Honey, did you know that this is only for Playstation 3? The sales person should have told you. I can't play it, but it was really nice of you." And I was all, "Oh honey. I'm sorry! I just picked up the box and paid for it. Well, maybe you can trade it for something else. Shoot. That's a bummer."

Then I took the babysitters home and let him be disappointed. When I got back I went about cleaning the kitchen and casually reached under the sink and pulled it out and said, "Can you play it on this?" Oh Yeah! Awesome! Did I mention that I'm awesome?!? He loves it. And actually, so do I. Next time my husband goes out of town I'm totally gonna form a girl band. Who's in?

Is it too late for a Valentine's Day post?

Valentine's Day was 3 days ago. (Aren't you glad I told you?) It used to be my absolute favorite holiday at school. I loved getting all the valentine cards from kids in my class, making the boxes to hold them, and of course getting loads of candy! It just doesn't seem the same for my kids now. Gabby sat down and wrote all her valentines in about 5 minutes. They make their own bags at school, which all pretty much look alike, and then sit at their assigned seats with the same kids they're assigned to sit with every day, and play BINGO.
When I was little, it was a much bigger production. We made our own valentine boxes and had a contest that was judged by our teacher. We got to sit wherever we wanted and played all kinds of games. I think the whole last half of the day following lunch was dedicated to the party actually. And there was so much preparation ahead of time by the kids.

First of all, there is NO way I finished my valentines in 5 minutes. This was an all night affair, which required much planning and forethought as to who would get which card and how many conversation hearts and what the conversation hearts could and couldn't say depending on how I felt about that particular person. The most important ones were 1) the boy(s) I liked at the time, 2)my best friend(s) at the time, and 3)the kids I 'hated'. And by "at the time", I really mean at the exact evening that I was preparing valentines, because as any girl knows, these categories changed from day to day and moment to moment. Girl drama. I don't miss it. Seriously. Because even though I'm grown I'm still subjected to it sometimes. So really, I don't miss it. Now what was I talking about again? Oh yeah- the enormous pressure to select just the right valentine for each classmate. Okay, so like I said, this required much thought.

First, for the boy(s) I liked, I had to pick out the card with a good picture that wasn't too girly, like 'Hefty Smurf', with the most 'I like you' connotation in it. Then, and this was the tricky part, I had to pick out just the right conversation hearts to include. This had to be just the right mixture of the way I really felt- so a few "Love" "Marry Me" "Cutie Pie" "Call Me", but with just enough other one's thrown in- "Smile" "Cool" "Neat", so that he couldn't know that I'd deliberately picked out his candy. I was going for the "I just tossed these in here and this is what you ended up with. Or did I?" effect. Ideally, he'd wonder, but never know for sure. Cause I'm slick like that. And believe me, I'd scrutinize the valentine he gave me and read into every phrase in there as well. If I got good sayings, I'd know he liked me. If they weren't so good, I'd assume he just tossed some in there. (It definitely couldn't be because he didn't like me. I just knew he did!)

Next in importance were the 'best friends'. Now this could be a warm and fuzzy thing where I picked out all the cutest and biggest cards and best flavors of conversation hearts for all my pals who all loved eachother, or it could be used as a passive aggressive form of girl cattiness. All you readers of the female persuasion probably already know how that could be, but for any guys out there who are thinking, "Huh? How can you use valentines in a mean way?", I'll explain. Say I was 'best buds' with Cathie and Susie, but yesterday Susie ticked me off by not picking me first for dodgeball. Well, Susie should have thought twice about doing that to me on the day before the Valentine's Day party, because now Cathie was going to get a huge Smurfette valentine with lots of pink and green and yellow hearts(the best flavors, of course) that say things like "Best Friend" "My Pal" and "You Rule", while Susie will get a small valentine, maybe with a little 'accidental' rip in it if I was really mad, with Brainy smurf (cause he's ugly), and white and purple hearts (yuck!) that say "Get Real" and "Whatever". And because she's a girl she will know that it was all on purpose, but never be able to prove anything to a teacher or parent. See how that works boys? Girls can find ways to be snotty even on Valentine's Day.

Now onto the 3rd category. "Kids I Hate" This was also really important. Boy who hit me in the stomach with the basketball at recess? Kid who told everyone it was me who farted? I'm talking to you. They basically got the same stuff as Susie, but with less hearts and messy writing.

The rest of the kids got, well, the rest of what was left, minus all the hearts that said "Let's Kiss." I ate those. I wasn't no floozie!

*sigh* I miss the good 'ole days.

Maybe you should rethink that line....

This is one of the funniest lines I've ever heard in a commercial, and it wasn't even meant to be funny.

From an ad for Bowflex:

"I gave all my FAT clothes to my FAT friends."

I don't think he's going to have any friends left after that. hehe

Roman is free years ode!

Yesterday was Roman's birthday. We kept it simple. In the morning we took all the kids to Texas Jumping Beans, which is an inflatable toy place. Then Roman got to pick what he wanted for lunch, which was *suprise!* chicken nuggets from McDonald's. After they were worn out and fed full of grease, we came home and Roman helped me decorate his birthday cake. We sang "Happy Birthday" and gave him his gift, which was a "Little Einsteins" playset with the rocket ship and 4 characters. He loves it and has been playing non-stop since he got it yesterday. And suddenly Dario Jr. is all about playing with him (with the new rocket of course.) But Roman's happy, so Dario can use him for his toys all he wants as far as I care!

3 Reason I love you, Roman

You give me as many hugs and kisses as I want. And good ones too. You hold on long and tight and snuggle and rub and caress and rub noses with me.

You love to be with me, even if it's just doing the dishes or sitting next to me on the couch watching cartoons.

Your smile. It can be happy, or hammy, or shy, but it's always sweet.

I love you, Roman.

A beautiful tribute to President Hinckley

My sister sent this to me by email. It's a wonderful video and I had to share.

When two year olds collaborate

Remember Little Rascals?

Roman has two cowlicks that converge at the back of his head in opposite directions, which gives him the "Alfalfa" look he's sporting here. We thought if we let that part grow long enough it'd eventually lie down, but it just makes a higher point!

14 year old filth

That is what we found when we ripped up the carpet on the stairs. I had no idea that there could actually be a thick layer of dirt underneath the carpet padding. It was so gross, and now that's what I think about as I walk on my not-anytime-soon-to-be-replaced carpet upstairs.

Yuck!

This is what happens

...when you leave your husband unattended with your camera.

Wouldn't it be awful...

... to be the person in the picture they put next to the obesity articles?

I highly doubt this lady said, "Oh suuure! You can photograph my rear end and attach it to an article about how I shouldn't be served food at any restaurants. I'd love to be the poster girl!"

I can't imagine the horror I'd feel if I saw my own picture attached to an article about fat people for millions to gawk at. I always feel bad when I see these pictures and just know that they probably had no idea that someone was taking them, or even worse, that they did see some stranger rudely taking their picture. And I hope that they never see the articles online. That would be really hard to take.

Embarrassing moment #25437589475937

Why can't my kids just leave midgets alone? (Was that incredibly un-PC? Okay, I know it was. I just like the word "midget". It's fun to say. I told you I was mean.) Anyway, I've had my fun. Back on topic. Why can't my kids just leave little people alone?
Tonight me and the kids went to HEB to buy some ice cream (because I made chocolate fudge muffins which must be eaten warm with vanilla ice cream), and there was a lady working there who was "of small stature". (Seriously, I don't even know if that is PC or not, but I'm trying....) Roman saw her and immediately started pointing and shouting- seriously, SHOUTING- "Mom! LooooK! Looook at her! She's little Mommy! Loooook! LoooooooooooK!" And I'm trying to calm him down and stop the scene he's making by gently saying, "Yes, I know honey. She's small. Shhh. Yes. I know. I know," which is not working at all because he's so excited. Then Gabby claps her hand over his mouth and gives the loudest "SSHHHHHHH!" she can muster, which, although good intentioned, made the scene that much worse. I just tried to act cool as could be while I hustled everyone outside. What else can you do?

And as usual, this is a repeat of a similar, but worse, episode I had a couple of years ago. (Much like the tooth fairy incident repeat. I'm starting to see a pattern here. I'm not sure what to make of this....) Ironically enough, this one was also in the HEB. I was with little Dario when we stopped in the meat section. Right across the aisle from us was a small gentleman, who also paused to look at some things. Now this was right after we had watched "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" in the movie theater. (Can you see where this is headed people?) Dario looked across the aisle and his eyes got wide and he says, (not shouting luckily, but seriously the guy was 3 feet away from us and there's no way he couldn't hear) "Mom. Look! There's an Oompa-Loompa! Look!" I was mortified, but again, trying to keep my cool and knowing this man could hear but was politely pretending he couldn't, I said, "No son. He's just a regular man. He's just short." But Dario insisted. He was absolutely sure of himself. "NO, Mom. Look. Right there. THAT man. It's an Oompa-Loompa. It IS! LOOK!" I repeated myself again a couple of times before he would believe me and let it go. Then I quickly, (but not too quickly as to make the guy think I was trying to leave quickly), hustled my cart and my kid far away into the dairy section. Again, what're ya gonna do?