Dangerous

 So do you remember how PTB's house is full of expired medications? Well, here at casa de M&M, you also have to be wary of expiration dates. This week I learned that the danger zone extends beyond the medicine cabinet and into the refrigerator.
My sister has apparently been the victim of expired foodstuff here before, so she's particularly diligent about checking dates.
When she arrived on Wednesday for the holiday weekend, she was hungry and set about making a sandwich. I laughed at her as I watched her check the dates on the mayo and mustard, and examine the pickle jar. Everything looked okay, so she pulled out a new package of deli meat and made her sandwich.
All is well.

Fast forward to later that evening when we're making dinner for the kids. We gave them all some of the deli turkey, and I hear Alex complain that it doesn't taste good.
We sniff the bag and... ew. Not fresh. The "new"-looking bag wasn't so new after all.

Now my sister and I share a neurotic fear of vomiting. Not that anyone out there particularly enjoys it, but we take our hatred of puking to a new level. I personally would rather feel nauseaus all day than just throw up and feel better.
So naturally, Corie, who felt 100% fine the minute before hearing that she had eaten bad deli meat 6 hours earlier, was suddenly nauseaus and certain that food poisoning was in her immanent future. And being the kind sister that I am, I encouraged her to eat a lot of cake and ice cream, because then when she threw up she would have enjoyed the goodies without the calories!
It's not considered bulimia if you have food poisoning, right? Just taking advantage of a bad situation.

But despite all the worry, no one got sick and we could all laugh about it the next day.

At least until Corie went to make some toast and realized that the bread used in her infamous sandwich was now growing a fungus the color of a lime.

Acutally, then we laughed even harder. Like so hard we almost peed our pants. 

I'm telling you, it's dangerous here. People are either trying to kill me with old drugs, old food, or trick aerobics steps. Because I'm quite certain that the step I used in the aerobics class I took at church this morning must have jumped. If not, I would have to admit that I totally fell off if it, twisted my ankle, and landed on my butt in front of the whole class entirely on my own.
And naturally that's not possible. I'm nothing if not graceful and coordinated.
But my ankle still hurts.

Hey look everybody! It's me. In a picture. Sprouting a tree from my head.

My husband has been on my case for never being in pictures, so I thought I would appease him. But now I remember why I don't like pictures of myself. I never know how big to smile and recently I've been thinking that in pictures my mouth is looking a lot like Greta Van Susteren's.
That's not really a good thing.


Happy Monday to you all, I'm going to go practice smiling in front of the mirror now.

Goodbye Fall

It was nice of you to hang around for so long.
Now if you'll excuse me, the weather channel says I should go break out the snow boots.

Scrabble-icious

This weekend has been scrabble-icious. We've either been stuffing ourselves with delicious food, or playing scrabble.

Yes, scrabble.

It's what we do when my mom, my sister, and I get together. I'm starting to wonder what I'll enjoy doing when I'm 80 if I'm getting my fill of dominoes and scrabble in my 30's. Maybe I'll be hobbling into clubs to make up for the lost days of my youth.

And yet we continue to play, to the exclusion of all else. Occasionally children are fed and diapers changed, but only when absolutely necessary. And sometimes not even then.

Of course there are house rules when we play. Our house rules can safely be summed up as "ways we break the actual rules."
Instead of 7 letters, we choose 9 for bigger & better wordage. We use the dictionary liberally, including before we make our plays.

That's how we've come to learn all of the words you can make with the letter Q when you don't have a U. Qat, qi, qadi, and qaid, among others. This particular dictionary helps make sure that you have fun and don't learn anything. All it does is list the words, and doesn't bother with non-essential information. You know, like definitions. It's how the word "maw" is on our current board, and none of us are any wiser as to what it means.
We come to play people, not to learn.

House rules also allow triple-double points for words that hit both a double and triple word score.

I know, I know. We're animals.

No word is out of the question, as long as it's in the official Scrabble dictionary.

See? I knew my anatomy class would pay off one day.

My mother is the word's most serious scrabble player. She will stare at those letters for hours. Literally hours. She will not make a move until she is positive that she's getting the most points possible. This is why our games sometimes drag out for days. And why she usually wins.

We used to have some scrabble socks that got passed along to the current victor. They had a scrabble design with a little fuzzy letter hanging off the back of the ankles. I can't say for sure where they are now, but consipracy theorists (Corie and I) believe that mom has taken and hidden them in the depths of her closet. And if you knew my mom's affinity for shopping, you would understand that we may never see them again.



I think the scrabble might actually be aging me. True story, I just said to my sister: "How'd it get to be so late? We'd better finish this up tomorrow."
It was 10:15.
Am I old, or what?

I now I want to take the opportunity to apologize to you all for writing a post about Scrabble. It's just wrong. And I'm sorry.

I'm also sorry that I took zero pictures of our Thanksgiving day at Dad & Cindy's. It was a great meal and we had the priveledge of not contributing one iota to the whole event. Except for eating. We helped a lot with that.

Hope you all had a nice holiday!
Gobble Gobble.

Old Friends

Once upon a time, I used to work.

Let me clarify, I used to work for a paycheck. My current job also pays, only the bank doesn't accept sloppy kisses and picked weeds as a form of currency. (My heart does though, so all is well.)

But back in the day when I actually did work, and received monetary compensation, I was a nurse in the Air Force. I worked for four years, spending the last two in the pediatric clinic, and the last nine months of that gestating my firstborn.

Being pregnant in the military is kind of a funny thing. The maternity uniforms are hideous. There is even a BDU (battle dress uniform) for pregnant women. That is the camouflage uniform. Let me assure you, I was by no means small during my pregnancies. I gained 40 lbs with Alex and every day that I donned my camo clothes, I wondered at the irony. In what state of world war must we experience that huge pregnant women would be trying to blend in with a wooded environment? I would just have to wave the white flag of surrender because there would be no hiding my girth as I waddle from tree to tree.

Luckily it never came to that, and I was safely camoflauged in my office behind my computer desk.
And right behind me was my friend Andy. He was the pediatrician I was assigned to work with, and despite his eccentricities* he and his family became our good friends.

* He listened to weird music, his desk drawers were so neatly organized that he would put Martha Stewart to shame, he had(has) the strangest sense of humor of anyone I've ever known, he would throw his mouse when the computer was acting up, and I couldn't possibly convey in this post just what a character this guy is. He is also a wonderful doctor!

Anywho, Andy separated from the Air Force shortly after I got out, and he and his wife Wendy, who is also a pediatrician, moved to northern Indiana to set up practice for themselves. This is quite convenient for us because whenever we visit home, we're just a short road trip away from them.

So the kids and I drove down this past weekend to catch up. We hadn't gotten together since I was pregnant with Derek, so it had been a little over 2 and a half years since we had seen each other. Here's a shot of all the kids together:

 Olivia-- 9, Evelyn-- 6, Alex-- 4, Derek-- 2

We used to babysit for Olivia before Evelyn was born. She would occasionally strip down and run around the house naked. The first time she did it, Josh turned red and said to me "I don't think I'm supposed to be seeing that." Ha! Good preparation for our own little streaker.

The kids had a great time playing together. A&W (how is it that I seem drawn to folks with initials that just make sense? M&M, A&W...) are practically running their own zoo. The have a dog, fish, a parrot, a bearded dragon, and a hedgehog. Really.

Derek loved that parrot like it was his best bud.

And would you look at my baby on the big boy swing?

My ovaries just twitched a little. I try to tell them no, but they know what they want.

Alex is 2 years younger than Evelyn, but they are almost the same size...

They had a ton of dress-up stuff and Alex was in heaven.

My mom asked her if she was glad to be back. Alex said "No. The other house is better. They have kids and more toys."

Ha! Brutally honest.

I wish I had gotten a picture of us grown-ups together! We had a lot of fun catching up, just wish Josh had been able to come along as well.
We miss you baby!

The Beginning, Part Deux

If you missed the first installment, click here before you continue.

So where did we leave off?
Oh yes, I was happy with my friendship with Josh until I noticed that he was pretty darn cute and he had started dating someone. We will call her Gertrude.
No, that wasn't her name. Her real name was cute and perky and cheerleader-ish, so naturally I prefer Gertrude.

Their relationship was a bit of a roller coaster, so I bided my time kissed a lot of other guys while I waited for it to run it's course. And then it did.
Josh had bought two tickets for himself and Gertrude to the Military Ball just before Christmas break our sophomore year. But they broke up before the ball, so he asked me to go along with him. I tried to be nonchalant to him about our "friend" date, but inside I was excited.

(Total side note: My roommates had offered to do my hair and makeup for me before the ball, but while they were helping me, they erupted into the BIGGEST.FIGHT.EVAH. and I was left with this frizzy up-do that was not my best look. The fight started over how Nicole held her mascara wand, but I think the real reason was that 3 teenage girls were living in the equivalent of a large prison cell. Love you Dana & Nicole!)

So we headed to the ball, and had a decent time. But there was a decided lack of flirtation on Josh's part. It is common practice that after the ball was over, our group of friends would go out together for some less-formal fun. Josh excused himself to go to the LIBRARY and do some STUDYING.

How rude.
Obviously my feelings were unrequited. I disappointedly walked back to my dorm to defriz my hair and take off my most hideous Air Force black heels. Looking back on it, I can't blame him for not falling madly in love with me, those service dress/skirt combos were about the most masculine looking outfits they could force us to wear.

But maybe I could blame him just a little, because, and let me emphasize:

HE WAS NOT GOING TO THE LIBRARY. HE HAD GOTTEN BACK TOGETHER WITH GERTRUDE AFTER HE HAD ALREADY ASKED ME TO THE BALL.

I was nothing but a pathetic courtesy date. He felt bad retracting his offer.
Can you believe I still bore him children?

Luckily, Christmas break had arrived and going home for a while helped me forget my hurt feelings and move on. I returned to campus satisfied with just a friendship.
And friends we were. We always had good converation, and came to realize that we had a lot more in common that either of us had thought.

One thing we learned: If you are not 100% sure that the platonic friend you are conversing with will not one day be your spouse, it is better to skip discussions of current love interests. They may come back to bite you.

So we finished our sophomore year as "mostly" friends. There had been one occasion when we had kissed at a party during an off-again part of Josh and Gertrude's relationship. However, it was a casual thing that we didn't take seriously.

(As a mom, I can tell you now that the ease with which I locked lips with these guys was far too casual, and  Alex will certainly be much more discriminating.
Right? Please?)

So we left for our respective homes for the summer. This was the summer that we had to spend 4 weeks in Texas for our ROTC field training. Josh and I were in the same camp and were able to chat a bit during the "survival" portion of camp. Also known as the only portion of camp where mean people weren't breathing down our necks yelling about one thing or the other. Remind me one day and I'll tell you more about this experience, things like the 8-minute meals while sitting at attention. The things I did for a free ride to school! You know, the same education that I currently don't use. 

During our time together I learned that he and Gertrude had broken up "for good" and he was spending the summer impressing high school girls with his new motorcycle. The same motorcycle that now resides in our garage in Idaho.

I was excited to head back to campus for junior year, sure that this would be our year. I was right!

 Part Trois will have to wait, because the kids want to eat breakfast. Darn kids and their needs. Next thing you know they'll be demanding clothing and shelter too.

Good night

The kids and I had a fun weekend visiting some old friends, and while I intended to write a post and show some pictures, instead I think I'm going to go to bed early for these reasons:
1. I shared a room last night with my darling baby boy, who is not the best sleeper in new environments.
2. I had to pee at 2:30 in the morning, but decided I'd rather risk bladder eruption than wake him in my attempt to leave/reenter the room.
3. Slept like a log woman who really had to pee.
4. He woke up for good at 6:30am.
5. There's a creepy bug flying around the lamp as I type this and I want to get away from it.

But I'll leave you with this sweetness, from a beautiful fall afternoon...

More juicy love story coming soon! Don't pretend you're not excited.

What? You're not pretending?

Well, goodnight anyway.

Interruption

I've been trying to finish up my little love story, but something has been getting in my way. I'll give you two guesses as to what that "something" may be...

And not only that, but their mere presence on this blog totally gives away the story's ending.

Nothing but trouble, those two.

The Beginning

As I've mentioned before, while on this staycation, we're taking turns inconveniencing both PTB and M&M with our loud and cluttered presence.

(For those of you behind the times, PTB is Josh's mom and M&M are my mom and her husband Mark. Now keep up, will you?)

Their two locations are about 2 and a half hours apart, and somewhere in between lies Ann Arbor. We met up there to transfer people and suitcases, and also because it was a beautiful fall day to walk around the University of Michigan campus.

I love going back and appreciating the beautiful campus and pulse of the city that I remember so well from my four years there. And this time I could stop to enjoy it because I wasn't cramming before a test or marching around in my ROTC uniform. I couldn't wait to take some pictures with the kids among all of the old buildings with the leaves falling in the background.
Of course, it turns out that wasn't possible because some idiot had left the camera on and drained the battery. Oh, and the idiot was me.
So I had to enjoy it without pictures, but if you have no proof that it was a lovely fun outing, then maybe it really wasn't after all.

Anyway, our visit there reminded me that in that very city was the start of it all. Where I met Josh, and eventually moved beyond merely tolerating him to falling in love.

As a matter of fact, even a little part of Alex and Derek were there those many years ago.
Yep, little ovaries with such potential.

Forgive me, I got carried away.

Josh was one of the first people I met on campus, along with the rest of our ROTC class, as we warmed up for the physical fitness test required at the start of the semester. I didn't think too much of him at first sight. I kind of wondered if he was someone's little brother, because even at 18 he looked a little... prepubescent.

No offense, darling, you were always handsome.
Just a little baby-faced (which explains why his current mustache growing skills are a bit behind the times for a 30-year-old).

He was, just as he is now, self assured and tactlessly honest. I thought him arrogant and annoying, but the truth is he was his own self, and always has been. Funny that it's one of the things I love about him now.

Though we're working on the tact ;)

Josh and I also found ourselves not only in the same astronomy class that first semester, but also in the same lab group. No small coincidence in a school the size of Michigan. The class must have had at least 500 or more students, and the lab groups no more than 20.
This is where I first gained an appreciation for exactly how smart Josh is.
He completed all of our lab assignments with no effort whatsoever, while I concentrated on trying to make it to class wearing something other than pajama pants. (I mostly failed at that.)
I thought he was doing my labwork to be friendly, since we knew each other from ROTC, but now he informs me that he had some ulterior motives.

But don't worry folks, I did not sell myself for some astronomy help. It would have taken something much better than that.
Like Biochemistry.
I kid, I kid.

Although I do now find it interesting that it took us almost 2 years before we had our first kiss. Because I have to be honest with you, I was a bit of a...let me whisper this...tongue slut.

Ach! Now it's out, and if you don't want to read my blog anymore I'll understand. I promise it didn't go any farther than kissing(ish), but I have to admit I was a little free with the lip service.

Note to self: look into college homeschooling options for Alex

Now where were we before I went and got all confession-y on you?
Oh yes, Josh and I were just friends, no benefits.
Except Astronomy.

And then it happened. Josh hit puberty, hit the gym, and the final stake through my ambivalent feelings toward him: He got a girlfriend.

Oh, it's on.

To be continued...because holy cow is this post getting long.

Casa de M&M

So the kids are getting all settled here at Mark and Mom's place. I'll just refer to them as M&M. Because I'm lazy. And I like candy.
The house has an interesting design, and actually has 5 different levels. The hide and seek possibilities are endless.

Alex disappeared to a different level yesterday and came back wearing this:

I've no idea from whence it came. Nor did I have any idea what that white stuff in Alex's mouth was.
So I asked her.
"It's a bite of string cheese, mama. I'm sucking on it." This was about a half an hour after she had "eaten" the cheese.
I told her that she was strange.
She did this:


I think she's preparing me for her teenage years.

Anyway, M&M were worried that the kids wouldn't have enough to play with here, so they gave them an early Christmas with new toys to keep them entertained.
In typical fashion, the boxes were a big hit.


Meet Mark's best side:

I crack myself up.
Get it?
Crack?
Yes, I'm 13.
I shouldn't be so mean, he spent an hour trying to get that toy put together.

And Alex has been loving it. She has created all sorts of...stuff.


Here she is at the store we set up in the hallway. I was the cashier and she bought me out of all of my stock.

Want to know about a special gift I have? I can read minds. Right now, as my mom is reading this post I can tell you exactly what she is thinking:
"Erin, why didn't you move the vacuum before you took this picture?"

Just to mess with you, mom.

30 years is a long time to get to know someone, and my mom has plenty of quirks that I shall exploit for blogging purposes.
Wait for it.

Happy Tuesday to you!

Screen Daddy

This is Screen Daddy:

**Public Service Announcement**
Don't zoom in on that picture. For some unknown reason, when the guys deploy they like to do odd things like shave their heads or grow strange facial hair. Josh opted for the latter, and is growing a pedophile mustache. It's sparse, it's creepy, and it will be gone before he returns.
** This has been a Public Service Announcement**

Back to Screen Daddy.
He's not as huggable as regular Daddy, but we are so happy that we can communicate while he's gone and that the kids can see and hear him.
We get to talk about every other day, and the kids do their part to make him feel less homesick by acting like wild monkeys while we Skype.
They have it down to an art form, the same way they act when I'm on a phone call. They get louder, whinier, and downright meaner. Unlike monkeys, they stop just short of flinging poop, but I wouldn't completely rule it out as a future concern.


Josh's dad and I took those same monkeys to Chuck-E-Cheese the other day. Or, Chuck-E-Cheezitz, as Alex thinks it's called. I pretty much left Boppa on his own while I took over the Deal or No Deal game. It's quite addicting. Also, I rocked the basketball game too, got it into double overtime.
What? It's a children's game?
Oh.
I guess I'm not so proud anymore.

Anyway, this particular Chuck's had one toddler game that was very generous with tickets. Like, so generous that I think it was probably set up wrong. Alex walked away with plenty of treats after cashing in her tickets. This lollipop thrilled her to no end.

Derek got a twisty straw and thought he hit the jackpot. Silly boy.


This weekend, we made the move from Pat the Bunny's over to my mom's place. She and Mark live a little off the beaten path you might say. And since today is the opening day of gun season, I think I'd better go prepare my all-orange wardrobe so that I will be safe walking out to the mailbox.

I will miss the PTB blog fodder, but I'm sure my weird family will fill in the gaps.

Sincerely,
Don't-Shoot-Me-I'm-Not-A-Deer

Mother of the Year

Alex, whining expert, as I'm gently brushing some tangles out of her hair:

"Mooooooommmmmmmyyyyyyyyy, stop! You're mean. You made my head hurt really badly."

Me, at the end of my rope after a trying evening:

"Yeah, well I pushed you out of my vagina. Let's call it even."

There goes my award for this year.

Urgent Notice

In less than an hour, I will be departing without my children for a fabulous dinner and some shopping.

*angel chorus singing Hallelujah*

Of course, this date night is with my father in law instead of my husband, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
Not that I consider my father in law to be a desperate measure.
And not that my need to shop is desperate.
And I'm certainly not wasting away from lack of eating.
But you know what I mean.

Let me just tell you this: You haven't really eaten until you've sunk your teeth into a fillet from Lelli's swimming in zip sauce.

*angels get louder*

My mouth waters just thinking about it. And this only-one-of-its-kind restaurant just happens to be a few minutes from the outlet mall mentioned in my last post. You know, the one I couldn't really shop at because of the kids.

Well let me assure you, I will not be so encumbered this evening. I will just send Boppa on down to the Bass Pro Shop and be free as a bird.

Sweetie Joshie Honey Pie, would you like me to send you a case of Ramen? You might be needing it. And I might have to mail some stuff back to Idaho when this "staycation" is over.

Well I'd better go run and beautify myself for my big evening.
Don't worry Josh, I'm not trying to impress any other guys. I want to look good for my fillet.

And I'll leave you with the cute face of the day:

As far as I'm concerned, those singing angels don't have anything on him.

"Shopping"

Taking children shopping is a cruel thing to do to such a lovely pastime. It is self defeating. You might make a purchase or two, but you wont really shop.

You mommies know I don't lie.

Yesterday my sister and I took our 3 preschoolers, ages 4, 3, and 2, on a shopping excursion.
We thought we were prepared. It was an indoor outlet mall with plenty of running room, it had a huge play area for children, we used the carousel as a bribe incentive for good behavior. We brought snacks. We visited fun spots like the Rainforest Cafe, and saw the animals and fish at the Bass Pro Shop.

But I'm pretty sure we were getting some looks from other shoppers.
We had Those Children. You know, the ones on the verge of being out of control.
And I promise that most of the time occasionally those aren't our kids. But something seems to happen when they all get together. The excitement of being with their cousins coupled with a fun new place, and an unexplainable desire on the part of Derek to just run wherever his heart led him made for an interesting day.

It shouldn't surprise you that the only purchases we left with were things for the kids. A fitting room was more of a challenge than either of us was up for, so we just enjoyed the day for what it was-- a fun outing for our children.
And have fun they did!
I didn't bring my camera along with me, but I got a little video of our kids playing in a wiener while Corie tried to get a picture.



And how did we reward them for their nice and orderly behavior?



We're such suckers.

Flashback Friday

Of course, it isn't Friday, but I'm a big fan of alliteration.

Pat the Bunny didn't do anything that I can make fun of today (a surprising turn of events), so I thought I would dig up an old post just for fun.
I love this video clip both for Derek's deliciously chubby thighs and Alex's mannerisms as she explains what her brother was doing. Can't get over how little they were, and how fast they grow up!

Oh and Josh, if you wouldn't mind eating some Ramen in your room for the next few days, my sister and I are going shopping tomorrow. Love ya!

el tren de mejicano

This is what I did on Saturday:



It's Mexican Train dominoes, and it's a family favorite.

The location: Uncle Fred's house
The players: Myself, Pat the Bunny, Great-Grannie Annie, Uncle Fred
The stakes: Honor (and some nickles)

I'm not exactly sure how Mexican Train Dominoes got it's name, but I can safely say that if the group I was playing with on Saturday actually boarded a Mexican train (or any other kind of train), they would all be receiving the senior citizen discount in the dining car.

Despite that fact, or maybe because of it, we had a great time.


Of course, we didn't exactly get to finish our game. Grannie Annie is a good sport, but speed is not her best quality. Unless her goal was to move at the speed of molasses. Then I would say good job, mission accomplished.


(Are you noticing a trend on my blog? No one is safe here-- not dead dogs, the elderly, no one is safe with me. Mwuah ha ha ha ha.)

This was my first time visiting Uncle Fred's house, and it was beautiful! I loved the paint colors, and decided that I want to run home and paint my house the same shades. Unfortunately it took me two years too long to decide what I like, and it's a little late to be painting now. Next time for sure.

I had to take a picture of this:


It's Pat the Bunny trying to teach her mother how to use an i-phone. It was amusing. The blind leading the blind.

As of halfway through the game, I am the current victor. I take great pride in that because my opponents have many more years of experience playing. Many many more. hee hee.

Uncle Fred helped Alex play a little tune for us...



The weather this weekend has been gorgeous. Highs in the 60's and we're loving it. We took the kids to the park this evening to enjoy the warmth. I had to include some pictures for Josh, who's missing his babies.



Look, Dora came too!

Hope you all enjoyed your weekend!

Fall, Take 2

One of the benefits to being here in Michigan is getting to experience a second fall.

(The other benefits, if you recall, are access to prescription pain killers and making fun of Pat the Bunny.)

There are so many more trees here than in Idaho, and Alex was excited to be able to form a pile of leaves big enough to jump in.

Pat the Bunny blowing a pile for them:

Derek Joshua:

On an unrelated topic, I've eaten so much Halloween candy that I can't stomach the thought of one more KitKat.

And it takes a lot of candy to get me to that point.

More than I want to think about.

And, I ate at PF Chang's today for the first time ever. Yes, ever. I know, I know.

It was yummy. The kids and I met Josh's dad there. We shared the lettuce wraps and I had the sesame chicken lunch bowl. Derek had a bowl of steamed rice and had it covering his entire being, and a good portion of the floor. Alex had an attitude, and some lo mein.

And now I've gotta go bathe some kids. I hate to think of all of the places I will likely find grains of rice on/in that boy.

Another Dysfunctional Family Member

This is Grace.

She joins a long line of dogs that have belonged to my husband's family that are just not quite right.

The first Schore dog that I was introduced to was Koko. She was Josh's dog, and she hated me. I'm not kidding, she hated me. When I came to visit, she would get so mad that she'd pee in the house. Josh would pick me up on purpose because it made her bark like crazy at me. She saw me as a threat.

She was right.

Not sure if Josh was originally planning to take her with him when he left for his first Air Force tour, but I'm pretty sure I made it clear from the beginning that it wasn't an option. No angry, incontinent beagle was going to be howling around my house. Not to mention the fact that she would get "stuck" in various rooms in the house because she was afraid to walk out of any doorway unless it was opened to a 60 degree angle or more. The dog had issues.

Is it wrong to talk of the deceased this way?

Back to Gracie Doggie. She's probably not my biggest fan either, because as you can tell from the picture, her reign of terror over the house has been given limitations. The basement is now her domain. Why? Because the dog chews up everything she finds, and was born with pogo sticks for legs.

Let me give you an idea of how she was trained.

Scene 1:

Grace, the puppy, grabs a shoe that she's not supposed to have and takes off running with it.

Pat the Bunny realizes the futility of trying to catch the lightening bolt that is Gracie Doggie, so she grabs a bacon treat for her.

She throws the treat to Grace, and grabs for the shoe while Grace eats the treat.

Grace bounces off, excited to figure out a new way to get treats.

Also of note, though Grace is not allowed to chew shoes, she was given a few of her shoe casualties to have as her toys.

Note to self, Pat the Bunny is no dog whisperer.

I'm not sure where I was really going with this post, but I've managed to poke a little fun of PtB, so I'd say my work here is done.

I think I should go monitor my children, they like to give Gracie treats a little too much. I'm afraid she might not be able to climb out of the basement by the time we leave here.

Because I'm Mean

It's really the only reason I can think of that I am going to post this. Because she's been nothing but kind and helpful, letting us invade her house and loving every minute of it.

And yet, she's such an easy target. I'm talking about Pat the Bunny of course. My mother in law. Her name is Pat, but I took to referring to her as Pat the Bunny many moons ago for reasons I'm not quite certain of.

Mostly because I was having a mental conversation with myself about whether the baby book is referring to a bunny named Pat or telling us to physically pat the bunny. I've never read it so I still don't know the answer to that, but anyway the nickname stuck. When she calls my cell, it tells me I'm receiving a call from Pat the Bunny. It makes me smile. I'm mean and weird.

For those who are wondering, she does read my blog, and no I don't warn her ahead of time when she's my latest victim.

So on to this morning...

I'm no longer swallowing razor blades, but I'm so stuffed up that I can't even tell when Derek poops, and that's really stuffed up. 'Cause that kid stinks. He gets it from his father.

Anyway, Pat the Bunny mentioned last night that she had some Dayquil if I wanted some. I got up this morning and thought that might be a good idea.

Here is what I found:

Not only does it appear that Gracie Doggie at some point had a cold and helped herself to some...

...But it turns out that I'm a year and half late in getting in on some of this decongesting goodness. Expiration of 4/2008.

So I dug around some more. Here is the loot:

Want to guess what they all have in common?

Tylenol, expired 4/07

Contac Cold Drops, expired 9/01

Old asthma inhaler from 2001

Ditto.


Here's 6 bucks she's not getting back. This one wasn't even opened.

Expired Dec 08.

I settled on taking this:

Because at the very least, I thought it wouldn't kill me, and might still have some effective properties left in it.

Josh, if I don't see you again, it's because your mom is trying to kill me. And she doesn't even know it.