8/08/2007

Not dead, just resting

Yeah, nothing like going almost a month without posting to drive away any interest whatsoever... Coming up with a ton of justifications for my absence would just sound defensive, but I shall do so anyway, at risk of being blown off by the two of you who are still reading.
  • I was wallowing. I had an anniversary in late July that hit me harder than I thought it would, and every post I started to write sounded really self-indulgent and stupid
  • I had to get ready for my vacation (July 28-August 4). Posts about packing suitcases and buying bottles of sunscreen by the gross aren't all that interesting
  • I went on vacation (see above) and didn't have many chance to drive to the coffee shop that had WiFi, and my dad used up all the dial up minutes that Nic bought so he could shop on eBay
  • I have an offsite meeting coming up, smaller scale than my regular quarterly meetings, but not as easy for me to plan because it doesn't follow the typical preparation process.
  • I have another big project at work, which involves a lot of Internet time, but is not really bloggable (which is probably not a real word, but I guess I can take liberties with the English language sometimes)
  • The problem with knitting baby gifts for people who insist on being due within a couple months of each other is that my fingers are occupied and cannot type
  • I'm auditioning for The Peevery this month, and I'm not allowed to cross post, so they get first crack at funny tidbits. And not so funny tidbits, actually. Anyway, the point is, if I have any good stuff, it's being posted there because I have to put my best work forward in order to crush the competition (I mean..."in order to provide the best reading experience for the wonderful Peevery staff and their faithful readers.")
  • We are still in the midst of potty training Lil Joe. Lil Joe is very stubborn. It's humiliating to have to admit that I have been reduced to actually cheering about defecation in the appropriate location (the appropriate location for the feces, that is. There is no appropriate location for the celebrating the act of pooping. It's just wrong.)
  • Despite having been told that I am a modern day Erma Bombeck (the check is in the mail, by the way, Dr. B), I just haven't written that much lately that I think it any good.

But, I shall rise above this patch of bad posting, and return to my former glory (as much glory as I ever had, which is not much.) Until then, please come read about whatever I am complaining about elsewhere and I'll catch you on the flip side.

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Who's Who

    Hubby- aka DH My husband since 1995. He is the head of the band department at a college prep school, and dabbles as a wanna-be pop star.

    The Princess- aka DD. Third grader at the local parochial school. Loves butterlies, sparkly things, the color purple and has recently developed a crush on one of the twins from "The Suite Life of Zach and Cody". Is ready for her teenage years, having already perfected her exasperated sigh and dramatic eye-roll.

    Hoss- aka DS1. Kindergartener and resident spirited child. His aunt likes to call him "the evil genius" because of his penchant for letting a lack of intellectual stimulation lead him into mischief. Likes trucks, sports, building things and burping. His current favorite word is "underwear."

    Lil Joe- aka DS2. Born in 2003. Doesn't say much we can understand, but has mastered the important stuff ("eat!", "Wash hands!", "Want chocolate ones!", "Hockey game!") Likes to push buttons, much to the consternation of whoever is trying to watch a DVD. Firmly refuses to use the potty, despite evidence that he is physically ready to be out of diapers, indicating a level of stubborn that eclipses even that of his parents and siblings.

    Me? I'm the Mama. That's all you need to know.

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