Smellyann Strikes Again

It's A Penguin-Eating Laundry Dinosaur!

Saith Sophia to Stephanie on Friday night,"The laundry is like a dinosaur that’s going to eat my penguin!"

See? Once in a while I do explain the randomness that is my blog title.

And, it appears, Typepad is not going to let me whittle the size back down to normal. Lovely. We'll all just have to deal.

So tomorrow, we are leaving for two weeks for our Mediterranean cruise. Can ya stand it?!! I can't. If it wasn't for my medication, there's no way I'd be sleeping before then! I am so damn excited, can't tell you how much.

Um, so speaking of sleep, I am suddenly exhausted. I worked all day getting ready for our trip on Tuesday.

{Ha, I have no idea why that line ended up so tiny. Or how to get it back. Stupid, stupid Typepad! Argh.}

I packed, did laundry, and shopped. I haven't cleaned, but I'm hoping to get that done, at least superficially, tomorrow, along with finishing everything else up.

I guess that really is all I have to tell tonight, anyway. Don't forget to check out the European Blog while we are away - Rob is bringing his laptop, and the ship has wifi! - and Chloë's summer blog!

Fin.

 

Ah, Food. It's Good You're Back.

I just wanted to share more of the loveliness that is, officially, the "How Deena Got Her Oohs and Ahhs" Blanket from The Yarn Girls' Guide to Simple Knits. I have finished the triple single-crochet edging and now just have to weave in thousands of ends on the back. Steph, sorry I didn't stick precisely to your color scheme on the edge, but the purple was closer, so it went on the inside! I think I like the turquoise (aka "cayman") better on the edge, since it's more prevalent in the afghan.  Sarri, if you're reading this, I need your collage/mosaic help! I just did this in paint, but how do you do the fine-looking ones you've been doing on your blogs? Help a girl out!

Today was quite active, though I just couldn't shake the sleepiness out and wake fully up until the evening. I way overslept this morning, waking up with just five minutes to go before we had to leave for the bus. I was like a marathon runner's coach, getting Chloë ready: "Come on! Let's go! Go potty! Take your clothes off! Hurry up, let's go, go, go! Shorts on! Here's your shirt! Get some socks! Here's your shoe! Here's your other shoe! Don't undo them all the way! C'mon, c'mon, you can do it, almost there...!" and so on. But, hallelujah, we made it with two minutes to spare! I call that a victory.

I came home, checked email, chatted online with a friend for a bit, and then lay back down to snooze for an hour until I had to get Jack ready. Well, I overslept again and this time had just ten minutes to spare before his bus arrived. And he was still in his jammies! Normally he jumps right up and dresses himself, but not so this a.m. So I had to do the whole marathon coach thing again, shouting up at him, "Your bus is here, your bu is here, get your pants on, let's go, buddy!" etc. At least this child had breakfast, since no one wrapped up the leftover strawberry biscuits and he'd eaten four of them! Rotten mommy, I know I am.  Thankfully, they both had a decent lunch, since I had time to pack him one and she buys at school.

I got Sophia dressed shortly after that and jumped into the shower, so I could go visit my nemesis Dr. Pal, aka my prescribing shrink. He tops my list of Medical Types Not to Love. He's just so... cranky! For no reason. It's not necessary. Sophia is a lovely, charming, ingratiating child, but he always glowers miserably whenever I walk in with her. Jerk. But then she starts chatting away while he's writing out my scripts (my visits invariably last less than ten minutes and go like this: "How are you doing on your meds?" "Fine, I feel good." "Good, here's your prescriptions, see you in X weeks") and he softens considerably. Finally today he acknowledged her by saying, "She talks a lot." Which, I think, was a compliment to her verbal abilities. In any case, I'm going to take it that way.

I've been seeing him a little more frequently lately because of the allergies. We have narrowed down another suspect: Trileptal. It's now eliminated from my medicine diet because, having gone off it, I'm taking far less Benadryl and having fewer reactions than before. So right now the Big Baddies are: Trileptal, Anceph, Percocet, chlorine, manmade fibers, and apples. Who knows to what else I will fall prey? Hopefully not strawberries, but either way, I'll no sooner give them up than I will my beloved pool time!

Anyway. So he's a jerk, but I can handle him for less than 10 minutes a month, right? At least he makes me laugh and not cry, with his crotchety self.

It's two weeks tomorrow since I got my nails done, and I definitely turned out to have fast-growing nails. Who knew? They break so easily. So, Sophia and I went to the nails shop for a fill, and OH. MY. LORD was I IN PAIN. She kept burning my nails with the motorized file thingy, and I kept having to jerk my hands away. This was a different nail tech than the first one, who was very careful not to hurt me. And oh! I can not stand all the filing and buffing and filing and buffing that it takes. I'm very sensitive to filing anyway, so getting my nails done is like pure torture for me. I very nearly gave up all the national secrets I knew, but she couldn't break me.

We ran next door to Farm Fresh to get the grocery ad, and then we went next door the other way to Subway for lunch. Sophie saw the marquee and wouldn't stop pestering me about it, and right now I am a pushover when it comes to a tuna sammy. But in the end, she refused to eat, having only one bite of sammy and maybe four chips, wanting instead to go home and have some juice. Uh. So we did just that.

I was going to go upstairs and tackle the laundry, but we had less than an hour left by that point before Jack's bus would come, and I didn't feel like going up and down, up and down. I was so tired, after all. So we watched a little PBS Kids while I completed the two edgings on the blanket to end all blankets.

The boy came home and wanted to finish watching Super Why! with his sister (they love, love, love that show). I agreed and told them it would be nap time when Chloë arrived, which appeased them. I kept my word, and as soon as they were all in their rooms, I finally collapsed under my loverly blanket for an hour. The dog wiggling around in her kennel woke me right up after that, and surprisingly, I wasn't tired any longer.

Good thing. We still didn't have any food in the house, and that's my job to rectify. I got out my previously-fetched grocery ad and wrote down all the sale items that we use on my list, then retrieved the Sunday paper to scour for coupons. I found a lot of good ones and saved nearly $40 this trip, 11% of my total. We were darn near out of everything except meat, which we rarely eat nowadays except when I go to the fishmonger at the Farmer's Market for seafood.  I shopped for an hour and a half; my cart was full before I even finished getting half of my list. For the first time ever, I tipped the bagboy who loaded up the van (hurts my back to do it) because it was so much. But the cashier forgot to give me my 5-cents-per-bag discount for bringing in my own. Grr. It annoys me that the policy isn't better known among the cashiers and isn't advertised to customers at all. Come on! That would bring more people like me into the store!

I'm starting to ramble, aren't I? I know some of you are saying, "Isn't that what all your posts are?" Yeah, it's true, I'm a babbler. And yet you stay!

We had dinner plans (by that I mean, I had picked out what Rob was to make), but the kids just kind of ended up eating as we unloaded and put away the food: some baby carrots (shared with the bunny), some Italian bread (still as delish as yesterday's), milk, Tic-Tacs. So they went to bed when they'd had their fill, and then we cooked our crab-stuffed whitefish pinwheels. They were good. Not as good as fishmonger food, but I'd had them in the freezer for a few months and wanted to get rid of them.

So do you want to know about our plan?

We've talked about this many times over the past 7.5 years of our life together, but tonight we really started being serious. Rob retires in five years. After that, we may just sell off a bunch of our stuff, put the rest in storage, and buy a boat on which to live. We'll travel around, bipping around the country, the Caribbean, go through The Canal, see where we go... and homeschool the kids as needed. I like to call it "worldschooling" them, because they'll gain such an education from traveling and meeting different cultures. Once our European cruise is over, I'm going to start putting us on a tight budget, so we can pay off our ever-accumulating credit card debt, start building a retirement fund, and see what it's going to cost us to live on this boat. I'm excited about it, and I know Rob is. It's his dream!  Sound fun?

Of course, there better be room for my yarn...

Fin.

Ugh. Just Ugh.

My stomach is on the fritz, most certainly because of the iron pills. I feel, literally, like shit.

Anyhoo...

I got in trouble with Jack's afternoon bus driver today because I didn't open the door when he arrived at home. Why not? Because I was snuggling with my baby on the couch, and I fell asleep and didn't wake up until two minutes after he was due home. So, they left. I called the school and then found the note stuck on the doorknob saying that they had been there and would be returning him to school. WTH? Why not ring the doorbell?!! I would have woken up in an instant.

Eventually, while I was calling around trying to find an answer to this question - and my son - the bus pulled back up and he hopped off. I went outside to apologize and tell them what happened, and to question them about ringing the doorbell. The driver and the helper answered in unison, "We're not allowed to." Huh? You're allowed to sneak up, surreptitiously put a note on my door, and sneak away, but you can't ring the bell? Now, I understand most busses and bus drivers don't work this way, but this is the special needs bus that comes right to the door, with maybe three other kids on it. I still don't get it. It's a stupid rule. I was home, the van was there and they knew it, the door was unlocked, and he could have come right in, and they could have rung the bell... gah! Whatever. Stupid rules annoy the hell out of me.

The mailman brought me a surprise today while the kids were at school. My friend Stephanie from Canada made this lovely little layette for CARE Package (I know the angle is weird, but changing it makes it weirder, and I already have it packaged up). She does such nice crochet work, and I am always beside-myself with gratitude whenever anyone sends anything for CP. Especially a full, matching set!

She also sent me Crazy Aunt Purl's book, which she's read and which I've been dying to, and she passed along her copy to me! I can't wait to read it. I haven't read anything without pictures in a long time. Wait - I have to check - okay, whoops, there are pictures, but they're all of her knitting projects, and they're all bundled together at the back of the book. I'm pretty sure the whole book doesn't have one-syllable word rhymes, though.

And here's Sophie, trying to get at the candies Stephanie sent me. I only had a few and shared the rest of the roll with her because, well, for one thing I shouldn't be eating them, and for another, she said, "I very very please want them, Mommy," and who can resist that?! She is in a "very very" mood lately, telling me all the time "I very very love you" and "it's very very beautiful" and the like. I'm enamored of this habit.

Anyway, thank you for all my surprises, Stephanie! I never know what to send you from the U.S. that you can't get there (besides Hannah Montana movies and Target)!

There were more presents from Aunt Gail today, too. Oh, here is the book she sent me, since we're sharing pictures and all:

Isn't that great?! I was at the grocery today trying to decide what fish to buy so I could make something from the book, when I realized I should probably pick the recipe first and then get the fish. So we'll try that next time. Good plan?

First it was Sophia's turn to open her gift. She's wearing Chloë's ballet leotard and refused to take it off. Oh, well, that's what Big Sis gets for not putting it back in her dance bag!

This is at the point of highest anticipation. What is it? What's in the box? And couldn't you just eat her up? Look at those legs! Yum. I could munch on this baby all day long.

It's a koala, from Aunt Gail's recent trip to Australia! Okay, she didn't really go, but this guy is cute! I think Sophia called it a puppy when she first opened it, which was funny. Or a dog. Same diff. (Brian Fellowes: "That dog is weird. He's looking at me.") She wubs her new koala and is giving him a peck here. And yeah, her top teeth stick out. Braces are definitely in our future, but I don't care; I think she's adorable like that. Those cheeks! Those legs! that neck. Oh. I cannot tell you how crazy I drive this child, pecking at her incessantly throughout the day. My baby. Ahh, sigh. Koala koala.

Next, it was Chloë's turn. How cute are kids in overalls, anyway? And my favorite thing about this one is her thin little wrists. They are so fragile, so delicate. Just like her.

So many goodies in this box.  A Hello Kitty bag, which is NOT to be used as a lunch box thankyouverymuch, a cute little box with half dollars in it (thanks for providing us with a money learning lesson, Aunt Gail! We never have these!) and a fairy ornament. At least, I think it's an ornament. Here, what do you think:

Ornament? I thought so. She's very pretty.

And finally, it was Jack's turn. My favorite thing about this child is his spunkiness. He is about as big as your pinky, but he don't take no crap from NObody! He wants what he wants and he lets everybody know it. He does what he pleases and he gets downright angry when you tell him otherwise. And do not ever ever ever try to take one of his cars. Don't even look at it. No, not even that sidelong glance, unless you want all the fury that 22 pounds can pack. Well, maybe it's more now. We haven't weighed him in a while. I shall report back tomorrow on that matter.

Okay, I have to report this, because even though it shows his ungratefulness, it's funny. And almost anything's okay as long as it's funny, in my book. He opened the box and cawed, "What is it?" We picked it up, turned it over and said, "It's a dinosaur, Jackie!" He shoved it away with disgust and said, "I don't want dinosaur. I want cars!" Oh, boy. So Jack. Here he is being forced to make nicey-nice with the dinosaur for Mommy's picture show. It really is a nice dinosaur. I just finished taking a nap with it. He'll come around. If anyone dares play with it tomorrow, he'll be all over it like white on rice, you'll see.

But wait! There's more! Two boxes for Jack!

Jammies!! Covered in cars! and busses and planes and trains and... cars!!  This isn't the best shot, but he was ecstatic about the jammies. He loved them. He insisted in putting them on for bed tonight.

Thanks, Auntie Blow-Up Doll! We loved our fun gifts!

********

So after present time, I had to take the neighbor lady to the commissary. I've mentioned her before to some of you - the one from Japan with the three small kids? Two doors down. Very nice. Very Japanese, humble and gracious and not very talkative. Her kids are 2, 4 and 6, just like mine. I don't want to call her shy, but we and our kids could have become better friends. They like to run over here and play, and mine over there, when it's warm out, but we're not all best buddies or anything like that. She misses Japan and her family and friends and her language and her culture. I had to draw her out on the way to and from the commissary, so I quizzed her about all these things. I think she is hesitant about making a mistake in English, too, so she withdraws. I know the feeling; I'm very shy about using my Spanish in front of native speakers as well. Especially when my friend Gil used to laugh and call the way I spoke "cute." Not necessarily wrong, my grammar, but not right. I'd rather be corrected. But I digress.

What is it about this? Every time I take a military wife and her multiple kids to the commissary, I witness something I'd rather not see. In this case, Satchi hit her kids once in the store and twice in my van on the way back. Not like, hard and made them cry, but a whack just the same. Am I the only enlisted wife in the military who doesn't take shots at her children? I swear! And I don't know what she was chittering at them in Japanese - I rather enjoyed that part of it - but she also didn't properly buckle them in the carseats. Granted, her kids are a far sight bigger than my little pixies, but I adjusted the buckles as much as I could and fit the kid to the seat, and they could have been buckled in right. That's another thing she had in common with psycho bus stop lady Jillian (remember her, guys and girls?) - buckle your kids in the right way! At least make more than a half-hearted attempt. I mean, when we had to ride in the NYC cabs with no carseats and in one case, no buckles, I was freaked the eff out; it was definitely not the norm.

Rant over.

Then I kept harrassing this one poor man in the commissary. They do not know how to block and face their shelves there, I swear. Not if I were in charge, man... (Block: pull items to the front instead of having them pushed all the way back, out of reach. Face: turn labels facing out, to be readable.) Every other item I wanted was on the top shelf, pushed far back, and I almost missed it because it was facing backward. The same guy kept being in the aisle at the same time as me, and I'd look up at him and grin, and he'd say, obligingly, "What do you need now?" He wasn't even that much taller than me, but he was a whole lot lighter and more willing to climb up the shelves! I didn't see him for a while near the end, but I ended up behind him in the checkout line (and not on purpose, either, since they "assign" you a cashier when you get up there) and just smiled slyly. I told him he was going to have nightmares about me following him tonight!

I saved $40.37 in coupons. Just sayin'. More people should use 'em.

I guess that's it. I'm really tired. Chlo has acting class and an audition tomorrow, and I guess that means it's up to me to take her. Daddy knows nothing of the audition process.

Fin.

Blast From The Past

Chloë and I made this friendship bracelet tonight. Whoa, I haven't done any knot-tying in a lot of years. The girls are trading bracelets tomorrow at her Brownie meeting, and we missed the last one from being in L.A. where they were all taught how to do it, so I had to look online. Oh, yes. This was the way I used to make those hemp bracelets back in college. But then I wanted to go waaay back to about 1986 and remember the fingerloop braiding method I used to do. It took me a while, several tries, and then wham! It all came rushing back to me. Chloë is proudly wearing that bracelet in bed right now, and this beaded one is what she'll trade tomorrow. She's so excited about it! As am I; bracelet tying can be so much fun, and it was really sweet making them together.

I'm getting excited about our little jaunt to NYC, although I'm disappointed once again to be traveling without my spouse. It'll be fun to go with the kids and Steph, who's never been, and see things anew through their eyes. I haven't been since I was 15 or so - maybe younger - so more than half my life ago. I did see the Statue of Liberty when I was in grad school and going for a week on the Jersey Shore with my friends. It will be interesting seeing the Big Apple from an adult perspective.  My dad always drove us everywhere when we went in, or my grandparents if I was with them, so I really do not know my way around as I should (having been there many times). And I've never taken the bus or the subway there. That's one of the goals of this trip. Priorities, for me: Sign the contract. Do the photo shoot. Conquer the subway. See Times Square. Have real NYC pizza and bagels. Go to the Yarn Co., home of the Yarn Girls, who wrote the book from which I painstakingly learned to knit five years ago, and buy some luxurious yarn. Maybe see a show? Steph - maybe you should make a list too, so we can see how our ideals stack up!

The price of the Amtrak tickets jumped way up from yesterday to today, so instead of riding the train, we're going to fly. It will save us about 8 hours of confinement with the kids, but I was looking forward to it. I love taking the train. It's so romantic! 

Enough about that.

Today, I felt like shit. Literally. You get my drift? Diorama, anyone? So I canceled Barbara, who was supposed to clean today, and rested on my laurels in my slovenly house. It sucked. I wanted a clean house. But I hadn't done the pre-cleaning cleaning and was in no shape to do it. Rob finally came home, and he was oh-so-tired, but naptime was not in the cards. We had to go to the mall so I could do mystery shops at Old Navy and Yankee Candle, and then it was eating-out night. Jade-free night. We decided to go to Moe's. Welcome to Moe's!

First, I did the candle shop. I didn't even know we had a YC shop here in town. Oh, what smells. I only had a $5 limit, so I had to find just the right things. And I did, but I didn't. I can't remember the scent I liked - Sicilian Orange, maybe? I think it was - but that one doesn't come in tea lights, which I wanted. Suck. So I got some votives on sale in apple and pumpkin and "frosted cedar wreath," and they actually smell good together when I open the back, stick in my face, and inhale deeply.

Then we went to Old Navy. Well, first we stopped at my new favorite candy shoppe and got my favorite favorites, coconut chocolates, and then we went to Old Navy. The thing about those chocolates is, I love them to death. But now Rob likes them, too. And so do the kids. It's not fair! Like your own things! Copycats.

And my, my, my, darn near everything at ON was 75% off. Hello! I had to spend $40, and you can get a lot of shit for $40 at 75% off at Old Navy. We bought three huge bags of clothes, some for all five of us. I hate to buy scarves, hats and mittens when I perfectly capable of making some rather nice ones myself, but for 99 cents (where is the 'cents' code when I need it? Bugger!), you can't beat it. I got some coats and shirts, the girls got some cute shirts, Jack got jammies he picked out - cars, of course - and some cute shorts, and Robert, well, he got gloves and underpants. Six different pairs of Christmas boxers. Who cares? They do the job. Oh, and socks. And those scarves and such. We made out. I could probably go back and do some serious damage, which is why we're going to put that thought right out of our heads and not think anymore about it. But you can go. 75% off, man!

Then we went to Moe's. As usual, Jack kept bemoaning the state of his empty hungry belly, and we thought for sure, he was going to eat. He even said he wanted the damn quesadilla. But no, when it came time to eating, he would chew up a bite and then cry and refuse to swallow it, showing it to me and you and God and everyone else. I get pissed and order him to swallow, Rob coddles him and is turning him into a spoiled brat who will only go to Daddy because he knows Daddy will take care of everything for him, and nothing gets accomplished. So the food gets spit out into a napkin, nothing goes in his fricking belly, and we all just sit there and stare at each other, wondering what to do next. I'm frustrated as hell with it. Sometimes he will eat, but NOT if you watch him do it. Jack's actual eating must not be acknowledged or it will stop on the spot. "Tear it up into little tiny pieces," I urged Rob. He did, and we coaxed, and encouraged, and finally, one by one, they went into the mouth. I think they were swallowed. I didn't see them go anywhere else. He ate the whole thing (the 'whole thing,' mind you, being just one slice out of a four-slice kids' size quesadilla), and we broke into applause and let him have half a cookie. I'm sure we are going about everything exactly the wrong way, but we have tried everything under the sun, and he is still no bigger than a witch's thumb. At nearly five years old, he weighs 22 pounds. And, wow. I have rambled on about this a whole lot longer than I meant to - which was not at all - but sometimes you just need to get it out!

I think I'm done. Time to sort coupons and make some sort of a plan to get groceries in this house.

Fin.

Who Likes BJ's?

Sunday. We slept in 'til 11, which was grand because we'd been up 'til 4. Rob watched Thank You For Smoking while I finished cataloguing my yarn stash (yay! Finished it all!). Now that I wasn't medicated and didn't miss every other funny line, I liked the movie a whole lot better. Rob Lowe is particularly amusing in it.

Stephanie came, and we went out to Rockfish on the beach for lunch. We've been there several times for mystery shops. Good stuff. Rob had a breakfast quesadilla, and I had seared sesame scallops. Yum. It was cold and windy out, and I didn't bring my coat, so I had to pass on Rob's suggestion that we go walk on the boardwalk. I rarely give up the chance to be near the water, so he knew I was really cold. We ran across the street to get some kitschy beach Christmas presents for my dad's kitschy beach house (only because he'll be here for Christmas) and then went home.

More things happened on Sunday, but I'm hard-pressed right now to tell you what. On to Monday.

I kept the kids home from school again. Ugh! It's their last week, and they've both already missed SO much from all the illness they keep swapping, but they were miserable. Their coughing is just so bad. I think I will send them today but won't be suprised if either of them comes home early.

I had Jade, so we really didn't do much during the day. I am still so undecided about whether to keep her and take on more kids, or give up the daycare thing altogether. On the one hand, it's nice to get paid every week, but on the other, it really cramps our family style. It's just a scheduling thing. I adore Jadey, but I just don't know. Someone tell me what to do!

After Rob came home, we went to Jason's Deli @ Pembroke Mall, so I could do a shop. I'd never been to a JD before, but Rob hyped it up for me as really good. I was sorely disappointed. It's no Panera. The service was strange and confusing, and I do not like to go into a restaurant and be confused about what I should do. Hello, that's weird. Plus, like Schlotzsky's, they put egg in their tuna. Ick! If I wanted egg salad, I would order egg salad. And I wouldn't expect to find any tuna in it.

The soup was good, though. Rob ran into Sears to bring Ellie, our photographer, her Christmas card, and then we drove down to BJ's to do our grocery shopping. At my last therapy appointment, my therapist gave me her grapes that she'd bought there, and they were really good. So she sent a Christmas card with a BJ's coupon in it, for a trial membership. Thought we'd go and do our shopping there, to see what they have. We used to have a Sam's membership in Panama City, but I never renewed it when we moved back here from Guam, because I thought we spent more money than we otherwise would have.

Well, hallegeud, I was right. We spent about $300 more than I wanted to! Granted, we bought a booster seat for Chloë (wow! At six years old, she's finally big enough for one - but barely) and some other non-grocery things, and I shopped for a month-plus instead of 2 weeks, but dang. We'll be sticking to Farm Fresh from now on!

And the food is crammed in nooks and crannies all over the place. It's kind of rediculous. But at least there will be plenty to eat when my dad gets here on Sunday, so he can't say that he can't find anything to munch on!

Fin.

Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go

It was an interesting and busy day.

I woke up late this morning, so I had to rush, rush, rush Chloë out of bed, into clothes, and down the stairs, still half-asleep. Poor thing. Did I ever tell you a week or so ago that when I came in one morning, she sat up and scolded me, "Mom, you woke me up!"? Yes, honey, that's why I'm here...  We made it to the bus stop with time to spare this morning, and I went home and zonked back out on the couch.

Had to keep Jack home from school again this morning. I think I'll send him tomorrow, but he still has a nasty chest cough. Really? Chest cough? As opposed to... his feet? But he's okay. And I'll send a note telling them to call me and come get him if he's not.

The Littles and I played a little after breakfast, and then we went upstairs so Mama could take a shower and fold laundry. Only I didn't fold the laundry. I sat on the bed with Soapy and watched Curious George. It was more compelling, what can I say.

When Chloë came home from school, I gave the kids a quick snack, and then I helped her write a thank-you note to Darlene, the director of her dance studio who gave her a nice check for her iPOP! trip to L.A. in January. She did a nice job. For a six-year-old. We hustled her into tights, leotard, and ballet shoes and headed for class.

The Littles and I just sat in the van during dance class; we didn't go to Wendy's for chocolate milks this time. They didn't ask, or I would have. Something much more exciting happened, however. About 45 minutes into class, Sophie piped up in a panicky voice from the back seat, "Mommy! Mommy! Help me! I have to go potty!!"  Well, well, well. (We are in the throes of potty-training for the third time in the Odette household, and this one has not quite gotten the idea that panties are not diapers, and we're not supposed to pee in them.) So I hurried her inside, whipped off her pants, put her on the potty, and waited. And waited. And waited. "Shut the door, Mommy!" Why do they think I should not be privy to their goings-on in the potty department? But they do. So I shut. Then I heard a little girl voice say, "I'm poopin', Mommy!" "I'm going poop, Mommy!" "I'm poopin'!!!" She kept me updated on her progress. Finally my nose told me the deed was done, and then she did herself. I was so proud! She actually told me she had to go and didn't have an accident! Hurrah.

Chloë fell asleep, drooling all over her harness, on the way home. Like all my children, she insisted she wasn't tired and didn't need a nap, but Daddy and I overruled that sentiment. She slept for hours, while I headed out for my appointment with my therapist.

This was probably the best session I've had with this therapist, to date. I don't want to talk about it here, but it was great. I'm feeling really good about things.

I talked to my dad when I got home. It was a brief conversation, but a really good one. I'm glad we were able to talk. He's going to come for Christmas, which will be really nice, especially for the kids. I look forward to his visit.

Chloë and I left again, to go get her new glasses. She looks really cute in them and is so pleased that "they have pink on the inside!" (The frames are pinkish on the inside, where only she can see.) Rats, I forgot again to take a picture. I'm slacking. After they adjusted them, I had them fix the old ones too, since they're the same prescription and will be kept for back-ups. They gave me the big sigh and then did it.  Psht.

Since we were already at the mall and her six-year pictures were now overdue, we walked down to Sears to see if they were finally in. I had been calling for days. Ellie, our favorite photographer was there, and I told her they were overdue. She and the other girl tore the place apart looking for them after the computer indicated they were in. No luck. I really didn't want to wait for them to be reordered, since I've been hyping them so much! I finally conceded to having them printed out there - only to find out they look better than the ones printed at the lab! D'oh! The printers have improved in the last few years, because last time I compared, it was by far the other way around. So, we have our pictures and will be mailing them out soon.

Walking back toward our car, we were both overcome with hunger, and I asked Chloë if she wanted a slice of pizza. Of course she did. I told her not to tell Daddy, who was home making dinner, and to keep it our little secret. She agreed. But they didn't have any plain cheese slices left and were closing soon. Rats. It all had meat on it.

Then we headed to her acting school. They had called me earlier and asked if I wanted four free tickets to Sesame Street Live. But of course we do! They were given the tickets as a courtesy, and we were the first ones they thought of, having three children in that age group. Sweet! I don't know if Sophie is free or not, so I don't know if all five of us will be going. Hope so. While there, I showed them Chloë's new portraits, in the gown she'll be wearing to L.A., and they were duly impressed by her gorgeaciousness.

I brought Chloë home, since it was getting late by this point, to eat dinner and do her homework, while I ran to the store for various and sundry necessities. Including a gigantic bag of giant-breed dogfood that broke my dang back. And cough and cold medicine for the Little People. Not those Little People, my LPs. The cashier refused to take my coupon, because it was for Children's Tylenol, and the medicine I got was Children's Tylenol PLUS. Well, I have been a cashier and a customer service cashier and a front-end manager in a grocery store, and I know how the coupon business works, and I know this coupon was completely acceptable. So I said, "Well, I'd like to challenge that, so can I see a manager please?" She called one, and it turned out to be my buddy Katrina, who knows me and mine. She said, "Of course you can take this, and this is how you do it," being kinda totally patronizing to the cashier, who was giving me major attitude prior to that. The cashier didn't look me in the eye after that. Hoh well. A dollar's a dollar.

I came home, and the first thing Rob said to me when I walked in the door was, "Sorry they didn't have any cheese pizza for you, dear!" I walked in, hands on hips, and said to Chloë, "Hey! That was supposed to be our secret!" She just giggled and said she forgot about that. Hehe. Then I ran into the living room to watch the bitter end of Dancing With the Stars. And boy, was it bitter. I shouted, "OMG!" and sobbed when Sabrina got voted off, and I was mortified when Rob came in the room and caught me standing there crying over a dancing TV show.

So that was the day. But no, no, not quite yet! I have to run out right now, at 1:20 AM, and go do an IHOP mystery shop. I could have done it at 11:30, but, well, things came up.

It's not like I wouldn't be up anyway.

Fin.