The season's first harvest

Did I tell you I pay my neighbor to clean up dog poop every Thursday morning at 6:45 am?

It's his business to clean up our dogs' business. Ever since we were added as his clientele I have felt relieved. One of my many burdens has been lifted. For some reason cleaning up the mess from the dogs always fell to me. I don't think that is how it should work, but if I left it to Jared we would never be able to send the kids out to play. In fact, I was out cleaning up poop while I was in labor with Katherine thinking, "maybe I should just give birth under the tree and return to the fields this evening..."

Now that that hassle is out of my way I have time to focus on more complex issues of yard maintenance. From my kitchen window I see the grass beginning to green and I feel hopeful that the dry winter didn't kill off too much of it. But this afternoon I actually ventured out and to my surprise (not really... disappointment is more like it) I realized the bulk of greenery in the yard is from dandelions, not grass.

**NOTE** for all you people with lush beautiful lawns, don't judge mine. It is at least 30 years old and has to compete with trees, volunteer saplings, a sprinkler system that is less than adequate, dogs, children, and dandelions.

So after spending an hour harvesting dandelions with my old steak knife I stopped and looked around to see only 3 million left to go. I have to hurry before the turn to seed and compound the problem.

Why the steak knife? Because that's what Bogda uses. But don't tell her I pay someone to clean up the poop-- she would never forgive me for that.

Bad hair days, months, years

I had some serious insight into my life this weekend.

I didn't date much in my youth (don't worry though, I'm TOTALLY over it). I thought I was attractive enough, smart, witty, what more could anyone want?

Well I'll tell you what they wanted-- Someone who had a normal hairstyle.

Forget the old stand-by excuse: "I was just too tall, guys were only interested in the skinny, petite girls."

Enter the new excuse: "I had one bad hairstyle after another, they couldn't see past the mushroom cloud."

This is the most embarrassing picture-- I almost didn't post it. It was my attempt at the short-lived "shag" trend and the joker-esque lipstick smile.

The ever popular "pyramid" style and huge round glasses.

Ok, so this one is a wig.

Don't even get me started on the googly eye...

Hey! Hey! You! You!

Early this evening I spied Kitty looking out the window. She suddenly turned and asked if we could go out to play.

As soon as I opened the door she ran past me and continued down the street to where the "big" girls were practicing a dance. They had their boom box out and they were putting together a routine.

Kitty stood watching them mesmerized. Eventually she sat on the sidewalk and just watched. Occasionally she would clap. After about 30 minutes of watching, Kitty worked up the nerve to join them. She contributed to the dance by running circles around the girls and by adding random attempts at cartwheels here and there.

Meanwhile, John was learning to throw the football with our neighbor who had just returned from a run. When John was ready to do something else he kept saying, "I think I've got it now." The neighbor didn't get the hint and kept throwing it for him.

Have I mentioned how much I LOVE this time of year? Everyone emerges from hibernation with renewed energy.

Snacks

I have a question:

Is it horrible and down right rude of me to refuse a snack to kids playing at my house?

Here is the background...

We eat dinner around 5:30 or 6:00, it is 5:00 now. Bogda's daughter asked to come play with Katherine after school today. She just told me she was very hungry and I told her we weren't having snacks right now.

The problem is that when John and Katherine are over at Bogda's house she indulges their every whim. She is ready to make a feast for her kids at a moments notice. It is her philosophy that you NEVER withhold from children, ever.

When her kids are "grounded" if a friend comes to ask to play she will let them because it is not fair to punish the friend. I informed her that unfortunately I was not going to adhere to that belief and that if my kids are grounded they can not play at all.

So here I sit, knowing that John, who is playing at Bogda's, is probably enjoying a corn dog, some pizza, and a bowl of cereal... I guess I should go get Marta some crackers.

Update:
I gave in and gave her a bag of chips, three helpings of cottage cheese, and a hot dog. Before I gave her the hot dog Jared thoroughly chastised me . My hostess abilities disappointed him. Apparently it doesn't matter what time of day it is, you offer snacks or meals to any guest. He reminded me that our son was getting the royal treatment across the street and that I needed to adjust my attitude.

I guess I got my answer.

But still... I wouldn't mind if everyone wanted a snack, or if it was mealtime and I had invited them to stay for dinner. I think I have a problem with the method of obtaining said snack. I don't like demands for food (ie. "John's mom, I'm hungry"), or even whisperings to my children to ask for food. I dislike it even more when the offered snack is not to their liking and they want something else, which didn't happen today, but has in the past.

What is wrong with me?

Snow Day?

I had a phone call bright and early this morning. The woman on the other end (ok, my mother-in-law) informed me that Douglas County Schools were closed.

I was disappointed, furious, tired, and relieved all at once.

When we actually got up, I turned on the computer and saw that only a few choice schools are closed. Ours is open.

I am relieved.

And tired of winter weather...

FYI

I have been feeling a strong need to record my struggles with John with increasing urgency lately. Whatever that means.

Anyway, today was one of those days (again). I was pretty emotional all day and kept thinking about writing it all down. I finally decided to do it and have started another blog (yes, it is getting out of control).

I don't really know what will come of this new blog, littlebullyblog.blogspot.com, but I do know that it will be chalk full of me complaining and feeling sorry for myself. So if you don't like that kind of thing, don't read it. But if you do, or if you have wisdom or stories to share, please visit and comment. But realize it might be boring, a downer, or annoying to most of the regular world. You know, less pictures, more text.

Mostly I think it is important for me to keep a record and maybe glean some wisdom from my friends and family along the way. Plus it keeps me from having to tell the same story over and over... oh, wait, I do that regardless.

Easter

So maybe it has something to do with the Resurrection.

I get it now.

Irony

Tonight at Karate the mom was wearing the Jesus Recycles shirt again.

Ok, I get the point-- He recycles-- Do your wash already!

Oh, but wait, I was wearing the same shirt I did on Monday too...

Alyssa Recycles.

Jesus Recycles

Last night at Karate class one of the mom's was wearing a t-shirt that said, "Jesus Recycles" with a recycle symbol on it.

Huh?

I don't get it. What does it mean? At first I was thinking reincarnation, but that's not it, is it?

I found the shirt online, but the image is copyrighted. But then I noticed a whole "Jesus Recycles" genre and found this picture of a patch you can buy Here.

Maybe I need one of those shirts...

Wait wait...

I have a problem. I admit it.

I have a borderline obsession with Wait wait... don't tell me! It's a news quiz that is on NPR every week. Click here to learn more, I dare you.

I first learned of WWDTM (yes, it has an acronym) back in 1999 (Really? Ten years?). I thought it was a joke. I mean, had anyone ever heard anything remotely funny on NPR? Let's be real. But then there it was, real, smart humor. At least to some of us.

I used to be happy to catch it now and then when I was out for a drive, but now that Jared showed me how to download the podcast (honestly, this technology scares me) I find myself anxiously awaiting every episode.

Thus, my ipod is filled with a nerdy quiz show, and I can't get enough. I find myself silently praying that Mo Rocca and Paula Poundstone will be on the panel every week. It is a rare treat (as any die-hard fan will tell you) to have them both on at the same time.

For the past week I have toyed with the idea of submitting my name as a listener contestant. The prize for getting two of three questions correct is Carl Kassell's voice on my answering machine. How cool is that? Only my fellow fans would know the absolute significance... Has anyone ever called someone to find Carl's voice on the machine? You would think you would run into it more often.

My obsession with the show has led to another obsession I need to confess: My fanatic tendencies toward Mo Rocca. He is one of the funniest people ever. His blog (which sadly, is no longer updated) is a wealth of humor and wit. Please, watch the Ped Egg videos, I literally cried tears.

Yesterday I found myself dreaming of the ultimate dinner party. I would invite Mo, Paula (who I have thought was hilarious for years) and uh, maybe a few other friends. I don't know what we would eat but we would spend the evening making sarcastic remarks about politics, life, and literature (Flowers for Algernon anyone?). I would laugh at them, they would laugh at me, we would bond for a lifetime. Of course no one would bring up that sordid custody/neglect issue Paula dealt with years ago...

Stay tuned for the This American Life post, complete with "driveway moments".

A little Kitty to lighten the mood

"Mommy, what is today?"

"Friday."

"Friday?!! Goodie! Jack Black is on YO GABBA GABBA for new friends day!!!"

Ok, really, what 3 year old knows Jack Black?

And truth be told, I was glad she reminded me, I was looking forward to it too!

Animal Cruelty

This poor squirrel has been eating for five days. When he is not eating, he is guarding his stash. Jared's good intentions ruined this little guy's life. He no longer sleeps, his family left him, he can't think of anything but eating and protecting the pile of corn feed.