It's FLY Day! Friday! Can I Get a YAY?!?

***In the FLY project we're all supposed to post our blogs as close to 10 AM as we can, so all updates will be live around the same time. Mine is going up early because I have to go to work. So, if you visit another blog and FLY isn't the top post, just check back in a bit. 

Have you ever thought about what people might think if they saw what goes on behind-the-scenes at your house? Do you ever wonder what it would be like to catch a glimpse of someone else’s daily life? Here’s your chance. Today 14 bloggers are inviting you into their homes to be a fly on the wall. Buzz around, see what you think, then click on these links for a peek into some other homes:

www.BakingInATornado.com
http://hypnoticbard.blogspot.com/
http://stacysewsandschools.wordpress.com/
http://mybrainonkids.net/
   
http://www.justalittlenutty.com/
 
http://sanitywaitingtohappen.blogspot.com
http://menopausalmother.blogspot.com/
http://ibddaddyandme.blogspot.com
www.therowdybaker.com
http://sadderbutwiser.wordpress.com
http://whencrazymeetsexhaustion.wordpress.com/
http://smn0409.blogspot.com/
http://DeBieHive.blogspot.com
http://specialedarmywife.blogspot.com/

Yay, everybody! It's FLY Day. And it's Friday...because honestly. this week can't possibly suck any more life out of me. My lifeometer is in the red.

Like the intro says, if you've ever wondered what it's like in my house when no one's around, then here's your chance,,,,because what goes on at our house is sooooooo exciting. (somehow typing doesn't relay the sarcasm like I'd hoped. Maybe my coffee will kick in soon, because, honestly, I'm not human without its effects.)

Usual Background Noise:
-CNBC's Squawk Box, which my husband, James listens to religiously every morning. Let me just go on record as saying that there is NO more annoying TV program at 6 AM, or at any time of day. It's just a bunch of over-caffeinated chihuahua-type analysts all yapping over each other, competing for air time, yelling unintelligeable stuff about the stock market.) Somehow he can't start his day without it. I'd rather be subjected to a Suze Orman and Barney the Dinosaur marathon.

-Katie, the hyperactive, OCD border collie, squeaking one of her toys. ( This dog has way more energy than we ever needed in a canine. I think next time the kids ask for a puppy, we'll just go for a stuffed aimal. I hear they're calmer.

-Andrew, 11 and Jack, 7 fighting over a remote control, a ping pong paddle, a basketball, a baseball glove....(this list could go on for a VERY long time)

Famous Quotes from the Past Week:

ANDREW: "Mom, I think I'm doing pretty well in tryouts. I'm hustling and doing everything the coach says, but they say hardly any sixth graders ever make it."

JACK: "What's a conscience?"
ME: "It's that voice inside you that tells you to do the right thing. Or if you've done something you're not supposed to and you feel guilty about it, even if no one else knows....that's your conscience talking to you."
JACK: "Like when I have to go pee really bad in the middle of a test, but I don't want to tell Miss Judy I need to go to the bathroom?"
ME: "Uh, no."

JAMES: "Who stinks?"
ME: "Katie looks guilty."
KATIE: "Squeak, squeak."

ANDREW: "MOM! I made the cut!"
ME: "You're on the baseball team?!? Oh, Honey, I'm so proud of you!!!"
ANDREW: "Uh, no. It just means that I'm not NOT on the team. The final cut'll be posted Friday. I'm gonna be a nervous wreck until then."

(getting ready for school)
JACK: "Mom, I can't wear these socks. They don't say UnderArmour!"
ME: "Just tell people the logo is on the bottom, inside your shoe. Oh, but wait. That's a lie. And we don't lie."
JACK: "Yes we do."
ME: "Well, we try not to.
JACK: "When it's convenient."
ME: "Whose kid are you?"

JACK: "How did the dentist know I have a cavity?"
ME: "The x-rays showed it. You know those pictures they took of your teeth?"
JACK: "Yeah. I'm sure glad that teeth can't blink. That messes up a lot of pictures."

(yesterday, getting ready for school)
ME: "so the team will be posted this morning?"
ANDREW: "yeah, what if I didn't make it? How do I keep from being upset or disappointed? It might be hard to go through the day feeling all bad about it."
ME: "well, Honey, everyone who's ever done anything big in life has had disappointments like not making teams. The real tragedy is to let that stop you from continuing to try. If you don't make it this year, you'll be that much better next year if you keep working at it."
ANDREW: "yeah Mom, whatever, thanks. I know you mean well, but I'm still so nervous."
ME: "Will you text me and let me know?"

I didn't tell Andrew, but I was super nervous myself. No one has worked harder to make the West Laurens Middle School baseball team. It's highly competitive. He's not the biggest, the fastest or the strongest, but you can't out-work the kid!

"Guess what....Giants Won" is a reference to our favorite team, the SF Giants winning the World Series. TWICE. Whenever one of us doesn't really have anything to say, or just needs a filler, we throw that into the conversation.

Okay, gotta get to work now. I hope you've enjoyed this glimpse into our pretty ordinary life (but I wouldn't trade it for anything). Be sure to check out the other awesome bloggers above.

Happy Holidays! (Yeah, I said it! And Yes, Jesus IS my Savior)

It’s December 28^th. Christmas was good. I meant to write about it while it was happening. But I was super busy… cooking, running around with my hair on fire (really. Darn baked Alaska), frantically wrapping last minute presents, being mad at my mom, trying to come up with a new/clever/exciting elf-on-the-shelf antic, running late for some various party and freaking out about it all.

Just one more gathering to host, then we can officially de-Christmas and go back to our regularly scheduled, non-holiday, running late, freaking out lives.

The biggest problem of the season was my card-buying faux pas.

I accidentally bought Christmas cards that read “Happy Holidays” on the inside.

A hopefully non-offensive photo of Jack's snowflakes.

JAMES: “Honey, these say ‘Happy Holidays’? What were you thinking? People are gonna call us liberal, pagan, atheists who hate America.”

ME: “Nobody hated Bing Crosby when he sang it.”

JAMES: “Yeah, but that was before people realized that saying ‘Happy Holidays’ is the equivalent of being a card carrying member of the ACLU and Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, and being Nancy Pelosi’s first cousin. If we’re gonna keep any friends in this town you’ll have to cross it out and write ‘Merry Christmas,’ so people don’t accuse us of being spineless, politically-correct and bowing down to terrorists.”

ME: “But these cards are cute and they were on sale for $5. I could still use these and after ‘Happy Holidays’ write ‘but we DO COMPLETELY honor Jesus as our Messiah…just so you know.’ ”

JAMES: “Angela, why do you think they’re on sale? Andrew and Jack’ll wind up being shunned at school because of this. You don’t say ‘Happy Holidays’ anymore. You just DON’T!”

ME: “But I like the way it sounds, sort of casually all inclusive. If we say ‘Merry Christmas’ the Moskowitz’s might get offended.”

JAMES: “Honey, were you even going to send the Moskowitz’s a card? We never have before.”

ME: “Well, that’s an excellent point. I’ll just go buy different cards.”

JAMES: “And, stay away from the clearance section for once.”

So, I did buy more cards. But we still ran short and I wound up sending some of the HH cards out. If you received one, I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive us.

And Happy New Year....unless of course you’re offended by the Gregorian calendar. In that case, have a good day, unless you’re offended by 24-hour time periods. Okay, then,..... be happy, unless you’re offended by wishes that you have any emotions other than what you’re currently comfortable with.

Well, okay then, goodbye….unless you’re offended by endings.

(I’m just gonna go now.)

*To the Moskowitz's, please send us your address, and we'll promptly get a greeting out to you (whether it's offensive or not will be up to you.)

The Product EVERYONE Needs. (And Can Afford!)

ME: “I have to write something, Andrew! And I don’t know how to start it.”

ANDREW: “try ‘hello.’”

ME: “Thanks, now get out of here. I’m trying to be all writerly and crap.”

Hello!

To be the blogger I really want to be, I’m supposed to write… like, everyday. Every. Single. DAY? That seems so excessive! Like showering and brushing my teeth. Things you have to do so people don’t avoid you.

I would argue that between working full time and raising two super involved kids, I don’t have time to do that. But other mom blogger friends, who I follow and respect seem to get it done. Every Day! And they all have at least five kids and are pregnant with twins. And their husbands are in Iraq or Antarctica. And they home school. And are in training for Iron Girl competitions. And they grow their own organic produce. And they have their own consulting businesses. And they never miss an episode of Downtown Abbey. And I hate them because they accomplish things and probably never sleep in until 9:30. 

So, I’m going to try writing every day. And still squeeze in time to shower.

ANDREW: “Mom, who are you kidding?”

ME: “Every other day.”

ANDREW: “Don’t lie to yourself.”

ME: “Get out of here so I can concentrate.”

Technically I didn’t have time to write yesterday because I slept in until 9:31 thanks to a late night with my friend Sharon, who I’ve started to believe is a very bad influence. Also, we had the Dublin Destruction baseball party and I had to shop for Secret Santa gifts and cut up fruit. My hands still smell like oranges.

Destruction players hugging Miss Helen...the best team mom EVER!

I did, however, discover the most exciting, revolutionary product since the Spanx Slim-Cognito body suit. Wandering the aisles of Home Depot, I had an impromptu meeting with a bin of telescoping-handled fan blade brushes! Like to reach up and wipe the four inches of dust off your sadly neglected ceiling fans.

I immediately purchased one and rejoiced on behalf of my home’s eight fans, and their dust ravaged blades which could be mistaken for long, skinny sheep at this point (because I didn’t know there was a such thing as a fan blade dusting brush.)

You must be feeling terribly jealous at this point. 

The government seriously should send out notifications that these things exist. I don’t need my quarterly Social Security statement, but I’d have loved to know that for $13.95, I’d be able to uncover faux cherry finish of my fan blades. If you’d like to experience this same thrill, then head on over to Home Depot for your own duster. (Be sure to pose for photos to commemorate the occasion.)

Or, if that’s too much of a commitment for you, I’m making this one time offer to rent my fan dusting brush for a whole afternoon. Only $5.00. I’ll even throw in a glam photo. Heck, bring the whole family over for a portrait. It’s the kind of thing that’d you’ll want to feature on your Christmas cards.

I have a feeling this will book up fast, so act now!

Secret Subject Swap: I Know I'm a Grownup, But I'd Still REALLY Love to.....

I’ve always loved writing prompts. The more absurd, the better.

 EXAMPLE: “You’re being chased through Central Park by a narcoleptic polar bear named Elliot. In 75 words or less, explain why his parents named him Elliot.”

I totally love that kind of assignment and could fill a gigabyte with stories of mom and dad bears poring over baby name books and other nonsense that will never earn me a dime.

 This random introduction leads us to my latest blog post. I’ve joined a group of other mom bloggers who also love being given writing assignments as if we’re still in tenth grade. Like a gift swap at the office Christmas party, we each submitted an original writing prompt for someone around the room to “open and accept.”…..except there’s no wrapping paper and we’re all in different states. Karen, our super organized blog swap host, distributed the prompts based on an in-depth mom blogger matrix that took into account our writing styles, blood types, SAT scores and arrest records.

Right now, thanks to me, someone is writing an essay about which part of their body they’d like to win free cosmetic surgery for. The topic I'm writing about was submitted by followmehome.shellybean.com. 

I love her writing. It’s funny, yet sort of sweet. And I can so very much relate to it.

The topic is……… 

I know I'm a grown-up, but I still REALLY love to…… 

Well, I’m not sure about you, Shellybean, but as a grown up, there are lots more things I wish I didn’t have to do than things I still want to do.

 My husband would tell you that I haven’t grown up yet. In fact, I take great joy in doing kid-like things… like jumping in mud puddles, playing baseball with rotting oranges, watching two hours of Phinneas and Ferb and painting my nails with Liquid Paper. I don’t EVER want to get too old to skip down the sidewalk, sing “I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas” at the top of my lungs and gargle my milk at the dinner table.

However, to be a cooperative blogger, I need to come up with something I wish I could still do…..and get away with it. (I added that last part). When I was a kid, I had absolutely no filter between my brain and mouth. Much to the chagrin of my family and local church members, anything that popped into my head, was quickly served up in the form of insults, family secret confessions, embarrassments and painfully awkward moments.

 “My daddy says your teeth would make great potato peelers,” I announce to the lady passing the offering plate as my parents crumple with horror.

 “Why do you always smell like peanut butter?” I blurt out to the third grade girl sitting next to me.

"I know you're lying. Mama says you've got way more money than we do. You're just too stingy with it." a response to my grandmother when she said she couldn't afford a new Barbie doll. Grandma spent Christmas with other  relatives that year.

Needless to say, holding my tongue wasn’t among my verbal exercises. I wish I could still get away with speaking my mind. I so wish I could’ve told the rude, overstuffed gal giving me a terrible time this morning about my appointment that her power in life was limited to stuffing her face, picking her nose and being awful to customers. But darn it! I have a filter now! And I'm too worried about what others think of me. Or it'd be my luck, just as soon as I tell my witch neighbor to go to Hell, I'll wind up needing a kidney transplant and she'll be the only available match.

I’d love to be able to tell the woman who lies to me each week about how their service works that I know she’s lying. Not only do I know she’s a liar but she has Brillo pad hair too!!!! That would feel soooooooo good. But I can’t! Darn filter!

It doesn't help that I work in marketing. Sales and marketing people have to be super nice to EVERYONE.....Twenty Four-blasted-Seven!!!!!!! Because of this we often develop uncontrollable twitches, become alcoholics and do volunteer work at demolition sites. To a good 91-percent of the population, my warmth is genuine. But to the rest....oh what fun I would have if that filter accidentally malfunctioned.

That's the stuff sweet dreams are made of.

15 Family Traditions For Decorating Your Christmas Tree

So, I took some liberties with the title just to get non-readers to click the link, but hopefully you'll learn something anyway.....like how unsanitary my mop is.

Jack's new elf: Yes, he has a whole face. I stay away from the little crapster because I'm pretty sure he's not just a spy for Santa, but for the IRS too, probably linked to Obama's Gestapo. 

There really should be a law requiring children to be terribly excited, interested and cooperative about decorating the family Christmas tree each year. That way I could have my boys arrested for their completely uncaring, lackadaisical attitudes about the huge 9 ft conifer that’s now taking up a quarter of the living room, just waiting to create fond memories of family bonding over festive lights and cherished ornaments.  

They’re supposed to ooh and ahhhh as James hurls in the Noble fir and spends 45 minutes muttering profanity as he fits the oversized SOB into the stand that we were supposed to replace last year, and the year before that. They’re supposed to dance around with glee and anticipation as I check the colored lights and unpack the ornaments.

Instead I find myself bellowing after I’ve got it half decorated completely by myself, “Andrew! Jack! PUT DOWN THOSE __________________ing game remotes and Get OVER HERE AND HELP ME WITH THIS _________________ing TREE!!!!!!”

Of course, I’m paraphrasing.

Now I’m not paraphrasing…these next quotes are like totally verbatim…and stuff.

ME: “James, I can’t believe the boys aren't more interested in decorating the tree.”

JACK: “What tree?”

ME: “If you’d been a girl, this night would be completely different. Instead of rolling around of the floor, trying to fart on each other (they really were) you’d be all ‘let’s put the flamingo by the pony ornament Grandma gave us four years ago.’ But instead, I do it all alone while y’all engage in activities that make cavemen seem super intellectual.”

Their wrestling matches don’t bother me so much until Jack gets mad. Jack ALWAYS gets mad, like crazy, “Jack Nicholson from The Shining” mad and starts shrieking, flailing and hurling insults at Andrew. Tonight’s name calling took the creativity award.

JACK: “ANDREW!!!! I HATE YOU! YOU’RE A……BUTT NURSERY!!!!!!!”

Both James and I looked up from our activities. Andrew seemed stunned.

"Did you just call me a …….butt nursery…. As in I babysit people’s backsides?"

I watched as Andrew processed and Jack smarted, feeling very clever in his word choice. I even started to intervene. But for the life of me, I couldn’t imagine myself yelling “Jack, do NOT call your brother a BUTT NURSERY.” That whole incident might require more wine than was in the house.

It was already bad enough that I inadvertently mopped my kitchen floor with urine. Yep, I did. And it’s a fairly rare event that I ever mop anything. So the fact that I made the effort, after working all day, got out the mop, ran it under sink water (The Pine Sol was like somewhere else and I was only spot cleaning anyway) and swabbed the deck was a feat worthy of a medal…..or a shopping trip.

I guess if you’re going to mop up a puddle of Katie pee in the hallway, it’s important to wash out the mop afterward. (That was the last time it had been used) No one told me this, or my ADD medication had worn off or Obama caused it to happen. I’m not sure, but I do know that Pine Sol smells much better than week old dog urine. So I had to spend 30 whole minutes washing out the mop and re-cleaning my floor. I hate being an adult sometimes.

I’m really not sure why I’m telling you this. I should probably delete it, but I’m working on being more honest and transparent, and not being fake because I despise pretentious people. They’d never admit to accidentally using dog excrement as a cleaning product. And that right there, makes me superior.

Andrew and me being goofy at one of Gatlinburg's 1,276 pancake houses. Yes, this is a random photo that isn't at all related to the post. 

Writing to Quiet My Subconscious....

Me to my nagging, whiny, probably Jewish subconscious: 

 “I’m writing!

Look at ME!

I’m finally writing something.

Ya happy now? Ya gonna stop hounding me and taking over my every thought, reminding me of what a failure and waste of talent I’ll wind up being if I don’t write something RIGHT now?
Can I get a break from you if I produce a blog post, even if it’s pointless, sick-in-the-head blather?
If I write something tonight will you stop reminding me that one day I’ll be 93 and in a nursing home, crying into my Depends because I didn’t push my writing career harder?”

silence

"There. I wrote something. That’s a whole paragraph. Now leave me the %@%$ alone so I can go back to playing Presidents vs. Aliens on my phone. Maybe one day I’ll be famous for THAT."

Sorry, that's all I've got tonight, but I did just earn Millard Fillmore and invincibility. Woohoo.

Fly Project Day is Finally Here!!!!

Welcome to my version of “Fly.” This is my first community bloggingevent….EVER! I’m not a good “group activity” person. I’m the one who showsup at the wrong time, accidentally poisons other participants, drinks too much spiced eggnog, gets obnoxious and somehow winds up stricken from the membership list. 

So, I'll just go ahead and say I'm sorry for whatever I might screw up on my end, even though I'm safely behind a laptop screen. 

If your plumbing explodes or your toddler hitchhikes to Minneapolis while you're reading this, I DIDN'T cause that! It was a coincidence. So quit blaming unrelated crap on me!

 Random photo showing my stance on exercise.

Okay, onto the FLY Project….You’re a fly on the wall of my house, hearing snippets of conversation that have happened throughout the pastyear. Since this is MY blog, you’re a Human Botfly! Number Nine on Squidoo’s mostdangerous insect countdown.

Fly Cast ofCharacters

ME: Angela-easily excitable, under organized wife and momwho still looks kinda’ hot for 38(only to nearsighted botflies)

JAMES: overworked, travelling husband, who longs for arecliner, a remote and a minute's peace.

ANDREW: 11, sixth grader with shelf full ofbaseball trophies and a super-sized ego.

JACK:  7, first grader, dreams of turning into Andrew someday.

KATIE: 6 months, super destructive, semi-house trainedborder collie mix.

ANAKIN and CALI (sort of like The Professor and Marianne)two minor character felines who hate us and each other.

Phrases Uttered, Announced, or Screamed on a Daily Basis 

"Andrew, I hate you! Mom, can I PLEASE kill him now?"

"Mommmm, Katie peed on the couch."

"Boys, get off those iThings and come have dinner."

"Thank God for overdraft protection."

"Mommmm, Katie peed on the stairs."

"Seriously, Mom, do we have to eat this?"

"When's the last time you brushed your teeth?"

"Does anyone know where Katie is? Oh geez, what's that smell?"

"It's time for bed. Where the heck is my fish?"

Katie's Latest Trick-see she really is gifted.

Snippets of Household Insanity

ANDREW: “Mom, can zit cream kill you?”

ME: “WHY?”

ANDREW: “Because I accidentally drank some.”

ME: "Clearasil does look way too much like Gogurt. We should file a complaint before someone gets hurt."

 Chief Jack and Me

ANDREW to JACK: “Dude, for the LAST time….Michael Oher doesn’tplay for the Baltimore RAISINS!!!!”

JACK TO JAMES: “Dad, do they serve owl meat at Hooters? Thatjust sounds cruel to me. And I don’t think it would taste very good either.”

JACK: "Katie peed in the playroom. Againnnnnnn!"

JAMES: "Why do you see a puddle of pee and automatically blame Katie? Your mother's been known to not make it to the bathroom a time or two."

ME: "Not funny!"

JAMES: "Well, don't be surprised if Katie hires an attorney and sues us for defamation of character."

ME: "Yeah, she'd say 'urine' trouble now! Get it? UR-INE trouble?"

JAMES: "Son, your mother's trying to be funny again. Let's not encourage that behavior."

ANDREW:  (studying achapter about birds of prey) “I’d love to have talons like an eagle. That’d beso cool! But the only shoes I could wear are flip flops. And I guess sockswould NEVER be an option.”

JACK (age 4, examining a package of ground beef): “what’sthis stuff?”

ME: “It’s ground beef.”

JACK: “Is it made from ground up people?”

ME: (shocked) “NO! we don’t grind up people!”

JACK: “Not even the ones who get in trouble?”

 The above photo is proof that men can't multitask. I'd asked a sleep deprived James to put on a pot of coffee and start the dishwasher. This is what I got. Why, yes, that IS Starbucks House Blend in the soap dispenser. It's all the dishes will drink now. 

JACK: “ANDREWWWWW!!! You just hit me in the eye with thatNerf bullet!!!”               

ANDREW: “Well, ya know, like the commercial says “resultsmay vary.”

 Andrew even sleeps in those Oakleys.

ANDREW: (examining his new deodorant): “Wouldn’t it be coolif Axe had a nutrition label on it…with sugars, fats and calories and stuff? Imean, you never know when you might be stranded on an island and all you’ve gotto eat is deodorant. It’d be nice to know if it’s fattening.”

JACK: “Mom, do you think the world is ever gonna end?”

ME: “Yeah. The Bible says it is, but no one knows when/”

JACK: “Well, I sure hope it’s after next weekend when Madagascar III comes out. I REALLY wanna see that movie.”

ME: “Let’s check the book of Revelation. Maybe there’s something about Madagascar III in there.”

ANGELA: "Honey, what do you think of the new sheets I bought?"

JAMES: "They're fine."

ANGELA: (slightly hurt by the lack luster response) "Just fine?"

JAMES: "They're perfect! I'm a new man. Now, would you get me a beer?"

ANGELA: "That's much better."

Proof that James and I DO have one decent looking photo together. 

Okay....this is the end of my Fly Project. For more household fly-on-the-wall fun, visit these other awesome bloggers. And before you go, leave us a comment with a phrase that's common in your home.....as long as it isn't lewd, lascivious or legally incriminating. 

http://BakingInATornado.blogspot.com                  

    http://smn0409.blogspot.com/

http://hypnoticbard.blogspot.com/                            http://stacysewsandschools.wordpress.com/

http://DeBieHive.blogspot.com                                   

http://raising-reagan.com/   

http://mybrainonkids.net/                                         http://followmehome.shellybean.com   

http://sorrykid.blogspot.com/                                     

http://www.simplychicforyou.com/

http://www.justalittlenutty.com                                  http://lifeonthesonnyside.blogspot.com/

http://frikkenduckie.blogspot.com/                              

http://www.momaical.com