Thursday, February 26, 2009


Back in my wild and crazy grad school days, I might have been known to perhaps have a beer or two. . .and get a little silly on occasion. Some nights I might have been a little sillier than others causing some consternation the next day. Marci and I used to call each other the next morning to see if we had done something particularly cringeworthy--just in case our own memories had failed us.

Happily, once I left graduate school, cringeworthy events stopped happening. Until today.

Today I took a ski lesson that reminded me how to be humble. I had a great ski day on my own on Wednesday and apparently I was feeling a little ambitious. Ambitious enough that when the instructor said we might ski some bumps today, I readily agreed. Dope.

When we came out after lunch and headed directly to a black diamond run, I tried to skulk away. No such luck. A few runs later found me sliding down a bump run on my back. As I lay there in the snow, the instructor asking me if I was OK, I told him to just go away and leave me for the coyotes. It sounded like a better fate then trying to get down the rest of the run.

Later, after a miserable trip down the same black run from earlier, I was huffing and puffing at the bottom when a woman, who was skiing with her friends, zoomed up behind me and beamed, "That was so much fun!" I strongly considered knocking her down and poking her full of holes with my ski pole, but there were too many witnesses nearby to later claim that she was attacked by a flock of Alfred Hitchcock's birds. Where is Tipi Hedron when I need her?

So basically, I've been cringing since the end of the day. I hope I never see my instructor, Travis, again. And it isn't even because I was smooching him at 2am after a few too many beers. What a waste.

Wednesday, February 25, 2009

Remember: Sleep Deprivation is a Form of Torture

Zzzzzz. Wait. What? Where am I?

Those of you with kids may recall the sleep deprivation of the early baby days. When we were in the depths of those first weeks of having two children, I remember my sister reminding me that sleep deprivation is, indeed, a form of torture. I'm probably not giving away any valuable information here, if I was to inform you that if you ever need to extract information from me? Yep. Sleep deprivation. Disturb my REM for a few nights running and I'll sing like a canary.

According to Wikipedia, my favorite--and yet possibly most frequently inaccurate--source of information: Sleep deprivation is used as an interrogation technique (for example, in Pinochet-era Chile, the Soviet Union, or by the U.S. on Guantanamo-held prisoners). Interrogation victims are kept awake for several days; when they are finally allowed to fall asleep, they are suddenly awakened and questioned [or required to run in and out of a young child's room repeatedly over the course of a night].

How did I make it through the boys' infancy, let alone Finn's cancer? I'm seriously out of sleep deprivation practice apparently. Over the course of these last nearly two weeks, Finn has gone from croup to head cold to sinus infection to ear infection. Clearly I'm no longer cut out to handle the pressure, leading me to stagger into his room after four or five times and beg him to just go to sleep and then dump a bottle of ibuprofen down his throat. It actually seems to be an effective strategy. I think I'll probably stick with it.

I'm a woman on the edge, people. On the edge. I need to go to bed, but now I'm staying up past my bedtime to watch the Top Chef finale because I forgot it was on earlier and missed it.

Clearly I have no priorities.

I wonder how long until I fall asleep and miss the ending?

Thursday, February 19, 2009

Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?

I have been on Mountain Standard Time for 2 years, 5 months and 19 days. And I'm still not used to it. I still miss Eastern Standard Time. I just can't get it out of my system. I still think EST.

Out here, Prime Time starts at 7 p.m. and apparently I just can't get that through my head. I regularly miss shows I'd like to waste time watching. Some might argue that's good though.

At any rate, it still bugs me that the Today Show puts "Live" on their screen when I know it's not. Matt, you cracked that joke two bloody hours ago. You're not live anymore! Stop it!

And New Year's Eve? Don't get me started. This year, at 10 p.m., NBC was running a "just one hour until the ball drops" ticker. What the? Someone needs to get coordinated.

Election night? Why bother going to the polls when the news anchors are already calling the big, important states for someone and predicting a landslide by 5 p.m. here?

I feel bad for those people in California. Or Hawaii? Pffffft. Fuggedaboutit. They're practically on the same timezone as Japan, so who cares.

I'm getting some relief from the fact that we can now watch shows online. So when I sit down at 9 p.m. to watch The Office, only to realize it was on an hour ago, I don't nearly blow a vein.

These things are important to me.

Sad, I know.

Bonus points tonight if you can name the band who sang the song in the title of this post. No Googling though.

Wednesday, February 18, 2009

Someone Needs to Go to School Tomorrow. . .

. . .and it isn't me. Finn woke up Saturday night with croup (remind me when they stop getting croup, again?) and it turned into a sinus infection, complete with fever. The kids were off on Monday, but he has missed Tuesday and Wednesday now because of the fever. This is on top of the two days he missed a few weeks ago. Is he going to fail Kindergarten?

Don't get me wrong, the kid has been legitimately sick. A healthy child doesn't take a two hour nap and then go to bed at 7:00pm and sleep until 8:30am. I don't think that's ever happened before in his lifetime. I secretly liked it. I did not, however, like the sleeping in 15 - 20 minute spurts that has been the norm since Saturday night. In fact, Saturday night was when the croup set in and midnight found me out on the front porch in my skivvies trying to calm the inflammation in his chest with the cold night air. It worked, but my pajama pants nearly fell down in the process. Thank goodness it was dark.

But you know how it is. He still had a fever yesterday afternoon, so I wasn't outside the "24 hour no fever rule" so that I could send him to school today. And yet this morning, after his marathon sleep, he was up and rarin' to go. By 4:30pm this afternoon I was calculating how long it would be before I could get his little body full of pent up energy to bed. I let him crush me twice at Sorry to kill some time, but now, the time is 'nigh. Must run. The Sandman awaits my little wheezy lad.

As for me, I have now missed two days out of the busiest week of the year at the ski school. I fully anticipate having my ski pass revoked in retribution.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

High Altitude Hockey

Have I mentioned that Declan is wild about hockey? His walls are decorated with hockey memorabilia. He reads hockey magazines. He knows hockey stats. He plays hockey and he is very concerned that the right people in the NHL won't know exactly when he's ready for the draft (believe me, kid, when you're ready for the draft, your mother will make sure EVERYONE knows). He talks about hockey. He dreams about hockey. And we've discovered he likes to play goalie (you know, the position where you have to buy goalie pads, the cost of which rival your mortgage payment).

Anyway, the kid eats, breathes and sleeps hockey.

Under any circumstances, hockey requires some travel, but more so here in the valley where unless you do travel, you can really only play one other team locally--the "up valley" team in Vail. We figure we've got years of travel to hockey games all over the state ahead of us and we're stearing clear of travel teams for now. But for fun, once or twice a season, the coaches put together a little out of town tournament. Nothing big, just a day's journey, no overnights involved. They've had the opportunity to go to Glenwood Springs and Steamboat Springs in past seasons. Over the weekened they went to Breckenridge where the elevation at the rink was about 9,600 feet. We live at 6,600 feet, so that was quite a little hop to go out and get physical and play three hours of hockey.

February 15, 2009
WECMRD Eagle Mites--Breckenridge, CO

Not surprisingly, Declan was pretty exhausted when he got home. It was a great night to take advantage of his fatigue and put everyone to bed by 7pm--I always love that--and look forward to a night of DVDs and popcorn with Eamonn.

However, I discovered someone else needed to go to bed at about 7pm as well.

(Happy Birthday, Sleeping Beauty)

Which begs the question: Who is more exhausted? The kids who play the game? Or the parents who get up and drive them there?

Friday, February 13, 2009

Will You Be My Lame Valentine?

When did Valentine's Day become a second Halloween? Apparently it happened some time between when I left the 3rd grade and Declan went to preschool. In my day (Don't you love it when stories start like that? It's an indication that the person telling the story is an old fart.), you bought those boxes of 30 Valentines that you filled in the To/From, folded it over, dropped it in people's decorated Valentine's boxes, and that was it. Or am I imagining this?

At a Valentine's party in the 21st century, your Valentine box gets filled with loot. Here are the contents of Finn's box as an example:

Not only does practically everyone stick some sort of candy to their Valentine (thank you mother of the student who taped a pencil on instead), there are elaborate, handmade Valentines that required effort beyond name writing and folding. I just can't go there. Besides, I have boys who would think I was crushing the candy hearts and snorting them if I tried to get them to sit down and create Valentine works of art from doilies and craft foam.

Back in the day, Valentine party food consisted of one heart-shaped cookie and maybe some juice. Or again, am I delerious?

Now the food at your party is a smorgasboard of things that give your mother heart palpitations when she thinks about how you will behave when all the sugar and food additives hit your bloodstream--which is right after school when you arrive home all hopped up. Happily there are some healthier choices there now as well: Carrots and dip and chocolate covered strawberries--it makes my heart sing.

I fear I am the last holdout in this area. The boys take the foldover Valentines (Pokemon this year) and that's it. I sort of rank this up there with the favor bags that come home from birthday parties, which have practically become the size of Santa's bag on Christmas Eve. I protest. I protest it all.

I wonder if my kids will be branded as "those kids who only bring in the cheap foldover Valentines."

I blame it all on Hallmark.

Thursday, February 12, 2009

Happy Hearts

My heart is happy. . .because these cookies are finished. Tell me, why do I procrastinate again?

You, too, can make these Happy Hearts, a recipe I've been using to great acclaim for years, courtesy of Ann. They are the easiest cutout cookies ever. Ever. Whip yourself up a batch today.

Ann's Famous Cutout Cookies
1 cup butter, softened
2/3 cup sugar
1 egg
1 tsp. vanilla
2 1/2 cups flour

Beat butter and sugar together--1 min. Drop in egg and add vanilla. Beat. Stir in flour.

Wrap in plastic and chill overnight.*

*Please note, because never in my life have I planned far enough ahead to have my cookie dough chilling overnight, I actually divide the dough into two balls, flatten them and then wrap them in plastic. These smaller amounts chill really quickly. I usually chill them about an hour and out they come, no problem.

Roll dough out to 1/4 inch thickness on floured surface. Cut into desired shapes. Bake at 325 degrees until the tops look dry (I hate overcooked cookies, so I try to get them out before they start browning).

2 1/2 cups powdered sugar
1 tsp. vanilla
3 Tbl. milk (I typically need a tad more)

These cookies are so easy, you can make them with your kids for a fun Valentine treat. Or you can go skiing all day and then have to make the cookies at night at the last minute for the Valentine parties which are on the horizon.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Bring Back the Pony Express

Tonight I am declaring war on UPS and the U.S.Postal Service.

Our small-ish town doesn't have mail delivery to our houses--we have to go to the post office to pick up our mail. It's a hassle. And a huge confusing pain for anyone sending us anything other than a letter.

If something is coming USPS, we have to use our PO Box.

If soemthing is coming UPS, Fed Ex or some other delivery service, it comes to our house.

Unless. . .the vendor we're buying from has struck a deal with the post office to deliver UPS packages. Which is a problem because, say it with me, we don't have mail delivery here.

So here's a little scenario from a company that has such a policy: Lands End. So say I order something from Lands End. I see that they ship UPS--I always have to be careful to double check shipping methods--and I input my home address. It's always nice to have packages appear on the front porch. The catch is that Lands End has an agreement with UPS to take packages to the post office. So even though I pay for UPS shipping, I have to go to the post office and pick it up. This annoys me. When I get to the post office, one of two things happens: I either get a nasty note from a postal worker telling me to use my PO Box when shipping things, or the post office just refuses the package because there isn't a PO Box listed. It just depends on who's working that day and do they want to figure out my PO Box--which, by the way, I didn't put on there because I thought it was coming to my house--and put my package in my box or just take the lazy way out and refuse it? It's a 50/50 proposition.

So today I hit the limit. I had ordered from a vendor who is ironically located in Columbus, Ohio--my hometown. Unbeknownst to me, this vendor was "one of those" who has this crazy UPS/USPS delivery agreement. I see UPS on the Web site, but I'm suspicious, so I put BOTH my street address and PO Box on there. UPS drops the PO Box off the label and voila, the post office refuses it and my package goes back to the vendor. I call UPS. I call the post office. No one cares. In fact, the postmaster tells me, "You'll have to get UPS to change their policies." Right, you JA.

I call the vendor. They agree to resend and put specific notes to deliver to the house. UPS takes it to the post office again. The post office refuses it. The package goes back to the vendor AGAIN.

Normally I try to contain myself when calling someone with a service issue. Today, I could no longer have any pretense of self control and I confess I raged, and possibly even swore, at some poor person at a UPS call center in Timbuktu. It got me nowhere except possibly on the road to an aneurysm.

The vendor is resending my package a third time using a different shipping method. I figure by the time it gets here, I could have walked to Ohio and back and hand-carried it home.

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

Almost Famous

Well, in my own mind anyway. But Kim gave me an award so I feel famously famous now. So cool!

There are, of course, rules that accompany this award. You have to share five addictions. And then you have to pass the award on to five other fabulous bloggers.

I had an incredibly difficult time limiting myself to five addictions. But once I stopped thinking about it as five obsessive compulsive behaviors and started limiting it to addictions only, I had an easier time. . .

1. The Internet. Probably not a newsflash there. Each day I'm slightly more disturbed by how much time I can spend not only answering e-mail and surfing all of the blogs I follow and looking up useless facts like what brand of margarine Mother Nature endorsed in the 70s (it was Chiffon), but now. . .drumroll please. . .I just joined Facebook and my descent into the black hole known as the Internet has sent me into a whole new space and time wasting continuum. Eamonn doesn't (didn't) know I started a Facebook page. His first question after he reads this is going to be, "What's Facebook?" And then after I tell him he'll roll his eyes, shake his head and say something sarcastic. It's just his way.

2. Popcorn. I know this sounds harmless on the surface, but I suspect it's really keeping me from becoming a thin person because I eat it from a trough that a herd of cows would envy. I think I've mentioned before that I follow this online exercise program. I've had OK results. I'm guessing I would have far better results if I cut several thousand calories of popcorn a week out of my diet. Apparently I really don't want to be thin badly enough. Maybe I should trade being addicted to popcorn with being addicted to exercise. Please note: exercise will never appear as one of my addictions. I feel safe saying "never" here, Mom.

3. Baking. Hmmm. This might be another nail in the coffin of the online exercise program. I love to bake (and let's face it--eat loads of cookie dough). I love the rituals involved in it. I love experimenting with it. I love how my family and friends react to my baking. Except when I have a baking flop. Which tends to happen pretty frequently here at altitude. Even cookies come out differently and it's taken me these 2 1/2 years to figure some of it out. Some of it I'll clearly never figure out. Last weekend I made a gingerbread cake (delish) that looked like Mauna Loa. It tasted great, but Martha Stewart would have been recommending me for an intervention. But altitude issues aside, my passion for baking remains unshaken.

4. Christmas. I'm already ready for it to be here again. I love the spirit that hangs in the air around Christmas--especially now that we live 2 1/2 hours from the nearest mall (unless this horrible developer gets his outdoor mall built in our town, which I hope he doesn't, but don't get me started on that because I'll never stop raging about it) and I don't have to deal with people doing crazy things in parking lots or fighting over the last Cabbage Patch Doll/Furbie/Tickle Me Elmo/Wii or whatever it is people fight over at the mall these days. The best thing about Christmas? Andy Williams, of course! And remember, don't forget to nominate me for Andy's Biggest Fan 2009. I'm pretty sure there's NOT an official contest out there, but just in case you hear something through the grapevine and I don't, I hope you've got my back.

5. Organic living. Eamonn and I just had a conversation over dinner tonight about where we could cut our budget. This is sort of my last hold out. We've cut the entertainment budget, the travel budget (which is going to severely impact my hoped for trip to Branson to visit Andy Williams in November), the gift budget (Whew! Thank goodness my new ski boots made it in under the wire. Because doesn't everyone need new ski boots in a recession?), the clothing budget--it's all gone under the knife. For years I've been addicted to Whole Foods, and then when we moved here, Vitamin Cottage. I've been good--I've cut back. But man, it's hard. I showed great restraint when I was in Whole Foods in Denver last week, literally only buying the barest necessities. This is one of my favorite indulgences. Ahhhhh, raw, organic buckwheat groats--there's just nothing like them.

Now, on to blogs I think are fab. The list of blogs I follow has become crazy big. When people comment on my blog, I start following them/you. Hey, if you're going to know what I'm doing, I'm going to know what you're doing. And if you have good ideas, I'm going to steal them. So I think a lot of us seem to follow the same pages (Hello, Kristie. I'm not even going to link to her here since we all go there). These are some that maybe I haven't mentioned before:

The NieNie Dialogues by Stephanie Nielson. I first heard about Stephanie on the Today Show after she and her husband Christian had been in a plane crash. It was a terrible, terrible tragedy. While she has been recovering, Stephanie's sister has been taking care of her children, which brings me to the next blog. . .

cjane enjoy it, which is written by Stephanie's sister, Jane. She has chronicled Stephanie's recovery and life raising her own child as well as her nieces and nephews. An amazing story of family and sisterhood.

Hannah's Shenanigans touches my heart and then turns around and makes me giggle as Beth chronicles the goings-on of her daughter, Hannah. Puts a smile on my face every time.

I never go a day without checking in on Ann. Brought together by a mutual friend years ago, Ann has followed Finn's journey from the start and posted on the CaringBridge guestbook nearly every day. I love to read Ann's blog because she's in Columbus, where I grew up, and so I can picture most of the places she's talking about. I love that. Her blogs about her mother's progression with Alzheimers hit close to home.

And finally, Susan. I started following her blog around Thanksgiving when she was on the turkey talk line and I realized she was Chris' friend so I started reading her blog. I wonder if in real life Susan and I could be friends. She would be the stylish, witty friend and I would be her alter ego--the frumpy, sarcastic friend with the dry sense of humor. Ah well, the world may never know. But I do like her new dining room. It turned out really great (Jan. 7, 2009). Kristie got to meet her. I bow down to Kristie once again.

Monday, February 9, 2009

It's Not Nice to Fool Mother Nature

Anyone remember a commercial with that tagline in the 70s? Anyone? Bueller? Bueller? Bueller? Just a little trivia to start the week.

At any rate, I feel like Mother Nature is the one playing a cruel joke on me this year. Where is my Colorado snow?

I love winter. Love, love, love it in an obsessive weird way. While I don't like having to drive in snow with all of the crazies who try to drive their SUVs too fast (they think they're invincible in their big vehicles, but are always the ones in the ditch), I personally don't really mind driving among sane people in the snow (I have great snow tires). I love to see snow, to hear snow (it does actually have a sound when it's falling), be out in snow. I love the way snow makes the landscape look. I love to ski in it, walk in it, snowshoe in it, and watch the kids roll around in it. I've even been known to make a random snow angel as a grown up. Ah, snow.

In addition, because we live in a ski resort area, snow is vital to our economy.

And yet it eludes me this year.

We had record setting snow in December. A terrible teaser. Because now we've barely had any new snow since late December. I am starting to see grass on the edges of our yard. That usually doesn't happen until mid to late March.

The resorts, which are at least 2,000 feet higher than we are have had a few dustings. In fact, as I look our windows to the north, I can see that there is weather of some description happening up on an elevation called Castle Peak. Down here? Nothing. I guess if anyone should get the snow, it should be the slopes, but this is depressing. Last night I walked home from a friend's house in a freezing cold rain. Isn't this why I left Ohio? Gahhhhh! I can't stand it.

And now I've realized that I've turned into an opposite version of my mother who complained (still does) about how she hated winter weather each and every day from late October to mid-March while we were growing up. She wanted to know why the snow and cold wouldn't go away; I want to know why it's avoiding me.

You just can't please everyone.

Friday, February 6, 2009

Bon Bons and a Nap

Today I ate bon bons and took a nap. Seriously. And because I have a cold, I feel like I can get away with it without any judgment. Even though the last thing I should be eating when I have a cold is sugar, I ate the candy anyway.

Last week after Grandma's funeral, the whole gang of us (aunts, uncles, mom, dad, sisters, cousins, niece) all went to her favorite candy store--Marie's Candies--in West Liberty, Ohio (If you've never been there--check it out. It's a fun day trip). It was quite a pilgrimmage and I'm guessing we seriously helped their bottom line that day. It's a family business and several of the people who work there knew Grandma and Grandpa for many, many years, and we got to know them, too. So it was really only fitting.

Anyway, Mom wanted to send home some chocolate for the boys for Valentine's Day. She usually sends a box on special occasions. I was happy to discover that Marie's now has a Candy Registry whereby you can "register" for your favorite candies! To me, this is genius nothing short of whoever figured out how to split the atom. Because really, who needs to know how to split the atom? It's more important for people to know what kind of candy I like if they want to send me candy. Atom, schmatom. Now my Mom can just go in there and say, "Please make up a box for Natalie," and voila. So what if I chose something no one else around here likes. I bought them bags of assorted seconds to keep them happy.

My box of favorites is now hidden here in the house, as are the bags of "seconds," which are probably candies that didn't make the "Marie's Cut" because the swirl on the top isn't right or their shape is a little off. I have no problem with defective swirls or slightly off kilter shapes, personally. So now Eamonn is probably reading this and his chocolate radar is going off like mad. "What? There's candy hidden in the house?" And he can look all he wants, but it's carefully hidden until Valentine's Day. Sorry, Honey, but you and I both know that you and chocolate can't coexist for any length of time.

The only rub in this situation is that I only allow myself to eat candy or other treats once a week. I eat pretty well all week long and then on Fridays, I basically eat whatever I want. It may sound archaic, but it's a system that works for me. Because I came home with my own box of favorites, there's no way I'm leaving it out for the candy hounds in this house to ravage. I just don't think they stop to really savor and appreciate before they stuff it in their gobs. So I've decided I'm hiding my box and I'll treat myself to a little each Friday. Eventually I'll have to share the love, because believe it or not, good chocolate actually goes bad and it would be a crime for that to happen and also, it would be a crime for me to eat an entire pound of chocolate myself. And kind of gross.

Now I need to go and keep an eye on Eamonn as he rootles around the house and tries to figure out where everything is hidden. . .

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Ah, Memories

I'll confess something: I don't dig babies. I know, I know. What kind of person doesn't really like babies? I adore all of my nieces and nephews, but it's a well-known fact in our family that I'm not really into them until they're about 18 months/2 years old.

Don't get me wrong, I did like my own babies. Loved them even. But I was pretty anxious to move through that "needy baby" phase and get to the fun part. People used to tell me I'd want those baby days back again. The jury is still out on that. Maybe because we had the sleeplessness of Finn's baby days followed closely by the sleeplessness of Finn's cancer days and now I'm permanently sleep deprived that make me feel this way. But I don't really miss it. And my boys were both really easy babies. . .according to my Mother.

At any rate, when Grandma died, I was digging through boxes of photos and digital photos and I came across some that just made me laugh out loud, smile broadly, or even put a little tear in the corner of my eye.

A sampling. . .

From January '03:

We went to the Worthington Mall to see Clifford the Big Red Dog who was visiting the mall through a promotion with our local PBS station (you know how I love PBS so) and Scholastic Books. We waited in a Big Long Line to see the Big Red Dog. Declan was bored so he played a little concerto (this one is titled "Pounding in D Minor") on the piano which was next to us in line. I love the expression on his face. He's 2, not quite 3, in this picture. I think he looks a little rascally--which he was. For as big a rule follower as he is now, Declan was a little pill at the ages of 2 and 3. One time he ran away from me at the rec center in Westerville so many times that when I caught him, I pinned him to the ground and whispered something in his ear that made him glue himself to my side for the rest of the day. Not one of my finer parenting moments.

Finally, we got to see Clifford. Except that Declan wouldn't really go near him. I think Clifford looks kind of sad.

Finn at about 3 1/2 months old (I always have giant babies that look 3 months old at birth so here he's probably about the size of a six-month old). Finn was THE happiest baby in the history of babykind. Ate like a maniac, slept through the night at about 10 weeks, rarely cried. And still, I am not a baby person.

From February '03:

Photos at JCPenney where they sucker you into buying extra photos because you can't stand the thought of pictures of your kids going in the trash.

And there he is, still smiling. We called it the Finn Grin.

Declan helps "rake" a rare, big snow in Ohio.

Because every baby needs safety glasses.

From March '03. And then I'll stop this little trip down memory lane. . .

Declan's 3rd Birthday. He was all about Larry Boy for awhile. I took a picture of Larry Boy in to the bakery so Declan could have a Larry Boy cake. As you can see, he's not too enthused about our rendition of Happy Birthday.

I think Larry Boy seems afraid in this picture.

This somehow seems unwise.

Birthday Bunny. I'm disturbed by the box of Frosted Flakes on the counter. Clearly this is before my organic-ness started.

Done for now. . .

Tuesday, February 3, 2009

10 Random Things I Feel Like Writing Down Today

1. I have to drive to Denver in one hour. I suppose I should shower.

2. What's the deal with yoga? I thought it was supposed to be relaxing. How am I supposed to breathe when I'm all contorted like that?

3. I love my crockpot which I use to cook the life out of food all day.

4. We need snow.

5. The later years of Little House on the Prairie are kind of lame.

6. I apparently still know all the words to "Glory Days."

7. I cannot swallow even the tiniest of pills without drinking copious amounts of water.

8. I secretly like to watch Hannah Montana and the Suite Life of Zach and Cody. But not the Suite Life on Deck.

9. I have eaten eggs for breakfast every day for the past month. Wonder what that's doing to my cholesterol?

10. This year I want to be nominated as Andy Williams' biggest fan. I listened to him for two hours on the plane the other day and it's January. What a rebel.

Sunday, February 1, 2009

What Does Wii Know Anyway?

I think I mentioned that Santa brought a Wii for Christmas. Let's be frank: I suck at it. Like really suckety suck suck suck. Except for boxing, which is probably disturbing. Yesterday, Finn destroyed me by, like, 20 pins in bowling. And then crushed me at golf. Tennis? I've never made contact with the ball yet. It's so humbling to be beat by a 6-year-old.

I was trying to coach Finn in bowling because he has a rather unorthodox throw. Let's just say if we were really in a bowling alley, whoever is sitting behind him would be in serious jeopardy of losing their head. That's when I realized he was beating me and that I'd better start emulating his wild throwing. I did and got my first strike. Apparently you don't actually take the proper sports stance with the Wii. Flailing around wildly seems to bring better results.

We don't have the Wii Fit, but there is some sort of tool/demeaning torture device on the basic Wii Sports that lets you test your fitness level. The boys have been taking the "test" for fun to see how old the Wii says they are. I think it mostly gauges how fast your reaction time is and stuff. So I thought I'd take a stab at it. I actually connected with the tennis balls. I hit three homeruns. I thought I was going to get a Wii age of about 25. I was psyched.

The result? Apparently I'm 59.

I hate the Wii. I'm sending it back to Santa. Either that or I'm going to play the Wii all day tomorrow so I can beat the kids at everything by the time they get home after school. Not that I'm competitive or anything.