I only read the blogs of people I like. Sometimes they are really funny and sometimes I wish I could give them a big hug. There are bloggers who I have a lot in common with and bloggers who I consider good friends. I do not read the blogs of people I do not like. I do not read blogs just looking for something to criticize and gossip about. That is called harassment. I would never continue reading the blog of someone who asked me to back off. That is called stalking. I have been criticized, insulted and accused of doing something I did not do. Doug wants me to ignore the attackers. My inclination is to password protect my blog. At Doug s request, I will pose the question to readers as to how I should move forward.

Doug and I have an anonymous reader claiming to be his friend reading our blogs and making comments. If this reader is truly a friend, they should sign their name. However, if it is just someone like his ex-wife, they need to get on with their own lives and leave us alone. How we live is our choice. We do not collect welfare, use TennCare or in any way live off of anyone's tax dollars. Doug works multiple contracts at a time to take care of our financial needs. We may struggle sometimes, but we manage to make ends meet and are very happy. There is no such thing as a "regular" job. Doing work for income is a job regardless of whether it is in the home or done from 8 until 5. We DO keep our children clothed, well-fed, clean and loved. All of the children have extra activities and clubs. Each child is treated as the unique individual that they are and given private time with their parents. When I say parents, I refer to myself AND Doug. He may not have fathered the older children, but he is the person who takes care of them when they are sick, attends all their school activities, talks to their teachers to ask how we can help them do their best at school and SO MUCH MORE! How many children we have is nobody else's business and our real "friends" call, visit and know that our family is just the right size for us. Those real friends know that we like to joke about our lives but love every good and bad minute of them. If you don't like who we are or how we live, stop reading our blogs, stop complaining to others because our lives revolve around our family instead of ourselves and go live your own lives. We are not making back-handed criticisms about your lifestyles. I don't want this negativity around my family. Go find someone else to make you feel superior.

Thanks to Matt and Carmen's gift card, Doug and I are actually going out without the children for dinner! I am beside myself with glee!

In the winter the boogeyman boogerman visits my family every evening. In the spring he just visits occasionally.

Today is the last day of Doug's contract in Oak Ridge. Doug has a "one week extension to do two months worth of work." Expect roller coaster mood swings in his blog as he works up a full-blown nervous breakdown. Expect the pregnant wife to have very litle patience for his anger outbursts and moping. Expect the unemployed husband to have very little patience with his pregnant wife's nesting urges. Expect chaos as they wrestle over control of the one functioning car. Expect husband to lose touch with reality as he considers a beach trip less than two weeks after the baby is due when his wife thinks travels should be BEFORE the baby arrives and without grandparents and other children. Come to think of it, Mom's blog is looking pretty mood swingy too. She's happy, no she's sad, now she's happy again, uh-oh she's angry, it's ok now she's goofy. . .

Bad Parenting - Mom- "Amy, give me Noah's Yu-Gi-Oh cards please." Amy - "No!" Mom - "Those are not your cards. Let's get Amy's toys." Amy - "No!" Dad - "Amy, where's the baby?" trying to distract her Amy - "In Mommy's tummy." cards still gripped tightly in her hand Mom - "Hand over the cards or I'll eat you, too." Amy dropped the cards quickly.

Dear Amy, If you are aware enough to announce just afterwards and demand that the situation be remedied, then you are certainly aware enough to announce beforehand and do it where it should be done. Thank you, Mom

I ran in Old Navy to make a return and decided to try on some jeans for myself since my box of maternity clothes is still MIA. I walked in the dressing room behind a teeny-tiny young thing carrying maternity clothes. The sales woman asked her if she'd like to use the "tummy pillow" which allows women to see what the clothes will look like if the only place they gain weight is their abdomen (they should make booty and thigh pillows or in my case, ankle pillows). My turn came to get a dressing room unlocked and the saleswoman took the pants in her hand and said "Would you like to use a. . . " glances at me "Oh, never mind. You brought your own."

Dear Northshore driver in the black sports car, I am sorry that my driving 50 mph was so upsetting to you. Riding on my bumper wasn't making the drive very much fun for me either. If there had been a place to pull over and let you by, I would have. When we finally reached the place where the road turns to 4-lanes, you could have gone on about your day without pausing to extend your middle finger to me. I would never have done that to you. Maybe you should travel on Kingston Pike so you can weave in and out of traffic to keep your speed up. You might enjoy the interstate even more. Cathy

If you live in the south, the only clothing that doesn't get worn year-round is white shoes. Two days ago we were bundled up against the cold and winds. Today is almost short-sleeved weather. You still need to pack away the white shoes from Labor Day until Easter.

"I vote NO on Gonzales." I do not believe someone with his attitudes and actions should be representing this country. This country and its' citizens deserve better.

Michael tagged me and now I will embarrass myself because it is a weekday and the weekdays are all childrens programming (movies, tv and radio). I get to listen to my CDs and the 70s cable music channel on the weekends. Random 10: 1. Ive seen all good people by Yes 2. Us and Them by Pink Floyd 3. Jazzman from The Simpsons soundtrack 4. Logical Song by Supertramp 5. Does anybody really know what time it is by Chicago 6. Two out of three aint bad by Meatloaf 7. Ashes to Ashes by David Bowie 8. Every sperm is sacred from a Monty Python soundtrack 9. Shine On You Crazy Diamond by Pink Floyd 10. Rainbow Connection from The Muppet Movie soundtrack 1. What is the total amount of music files on your computer? I pretty much filled my old hard drive with music and that is why Doug gave me a new drive for Christmas. 2. The last CD you bought is: Garden State soundtrack for Doug 3. What is the last song you listened to before this message: Pig on her Head by Laurie Berkner 4. Write down five songs you listen to a lot or mean a lot to you: 1. We are the Dinosaurs by Laurie Berkner 2. Bumblebee by Laurie Berkner 3. House Party Time by Dan Zanes 4. Blue by Eiffel 65 (on Tommys stereo) 5. 1985 by Bowling for Soup (on Sarahs stereo) 6. Land of a Million Drums by Outkast (on Noahs stereo) 5. Who are you gonna pass this stick to (three persons and why)? Doug because of the wide music variety I hear coming up the stairs from his office. Julie because I want to hear what she likes in music. David because he can give all the answers that I could not give.

I have neither the energy nor the motivation to spend yet another day on the endless cycles of laundry and dishes.

Saturday Cathy - "Can we get a Sunday paper tomorrow?" Doug - "Anything, anytime, anywhere for you sweetie." Cathy - "Thank you." Sunday Cathy - "If you go out today would you get a paper for me please?" Doug - "I'll go get it in a minute." Cathy - "Thanks." several hours later Cathy - "My parents invited us to join them for a late lunch. Can we pick up a paper on the way home." Doug - "No problem." leaving CiCi's parking lot Cathy - "Let's stop for a paper." Doug - "OK." approaching corner gas station and store Cathy - "Can we stop here?" said while arm is fully extended across Doug's face and pointing at station Doug - silence several hours later Cathy - "If you go out this evening I would like a paper please." Doug - "#!*^, why didn't you remind me before now?" Cathy - silence Monday morning Cathy - "Please see if the corner station has any papers left on your way home from the bus stop." Doug - "#!*^, fine. This is gonna be a lousy day." a few minutes later Doug - "I have some e-mail to send out, then I'll go get your paper." an hour later Doug - "I'm late for work, I've gotta go." Cathy - "Bye."

I talked the Girl Scouts down from some goals that I just wasn't willing to attempt while pregnant. In the end we agreed to spend one full day in Chattanooga and do as many activities as will fit in that day. Now I just have to plan out the day and schedule the trip on a day when the least number of parents are too busy. The Girl Scouts need to sell those cookies to pay for this adventure. My own daughter needs to sell a LOT more cookies if she's going to earn that coveted "free week at scout camp". The bedroom furniture is still in the wrong place. If I'm going to be stuck in this house while the wagon spends the rest of the winter up on blocks I've got to at least get the furniture moved so I can busy myself with rearranging all of the lightweight things in the room.

We didn't get ANY snow. If you have more than 6 inches of snow, please send some of it to the south.

My baby brother has finally started blogging so I can keep up with the adventures of his family and (hopefully) see pictures of the children more often. I suspect I'll be reading a lot about sports in his blog.

The furniture upstairs is all where I want it to be but I NEED to move the furniture around in our bedroom. I know the bed weighs a ton and I know there are other things around here that need to get done but I don't care. Stop calling me irrational. The bedroom furniture is not where I want it to be, it needs to be moved and it will bother me until it happens. You know what they say, "If Mommy's happy, then . . ."

I don't want to accuse Doug of being an OCD control-freak, BUT while I put the groceries on the conveyor belt at checkout, he rearranged them all.

I love it when it snows! 

The weather forecast calls for a dusting of snow and temperatures of 5 below. We had better hurry to the store before all the bread and milk are gone. By tonight all of Knoxville will be completely hysterical. I'm going to curl up under blankets and watch Garden State. Should my other movie be Napoleon Dynamite, Anchorman or The Village?

One of the benefits (disadvantages?) of growing up in the south is that you see a lot of things you don't see in the city. I have seen a vet remove a horse's 'jewels' and toss them to the farm dog who promptly ate them (the dog, not the vet). Stop crossing your legs and moaning, the horse was completely undisturbed by the procedure and the vet quickly stitched the empty pouch closed. The point of this story is that it seems to me I could perform the same procedure on Doug if I moved fast enough. OK, maybe not. Maybe I just threaten it when I'm in a testy mood because I need to get out of the house.

10,000 Girl Scouts in East TN will begin selling cookies tomorrow morning. Their parents will race to see who gets to the office bulletin board first. Pity the scouts whose parents work from home. Neighborhoods will draw their blinds and hide even better than they do when the suits on bicycles enter their community. Grandparents will spend their grocery money on cookies they can't eat. Girl Scout leaders everywhere will spend today hunting down parents to get order forms delivered and finish planning their next 2 months of cookie selling. Leaders' spouses are stocking up on chocolate and prozac and holding onto the hope that "this too shall pass". The leaders' phones will ring day and night with problems that Solomon himself couldn't solve. Car floors will be littered with takeout bags and Starbucks cups as scouts, parents and leaders tirelesly work to sell those cookies. In the end, the troop will have earned 50 cents for every box sold and they will concoct a plan to spend that hard earned money. If they are really lucky, they will have a few cases of cookies bought just for donation to a local charity, like Ronald McDonald House. And then, everyone will collapse from exhaustion and sleep until cookie time returns next year.

This is the post where I insult and annoy everyone. What are your favorite boy names? Wait though, there are rules. No gender neutral names allowed. No creative spellings of regular names. No celebrity-child names ("Apple"). Since I live in the south I have to add, no Civil War generals and no multiple-part names like "Billy Joe Bob". Before you get offended, some of the rules are my personal preference but most of them come from the misfortune of having a dual major in Sociology and Psychology. There has been a lot of research on names and for the most part, only people from upper socio-economic backgrounds can succeed in business with unusual names. Those of us who are working our way through life do better with strong, traditional names that instill trust in people. NOW you can get on your soap boxes and tell me how wrong I am OR you can just tell me your favorite boy names. Just don't be too mean or I'll cry.

I totally forgot to mention yesterday that I've been blogging for one year now! A great big orange happy birthday today to Michael!

Write your own caption. 

Before Christmas Noah asked for some boxers "like Dad wears". I bought him one pair at an after-Christmas sale and he just noticed them yesterday. He was even more excited when I gave him permission to run around the house in just his new boxers and a shirt. After wearing the new clothing for all of five minutes he asked me to "trade all his old underwear in for more boxers". I guess he liked them.

According to the Knoxville News-Sentinel, I'm suffering from Vacation Deficit Disorder. I haven't had so much as a weekend off in YEARS. When this baby arrives I doubt if I'll ever even leave the house again. If Knoxville would just grow enough to have online groceries like Atlanta and other big cities do I could just go ahead and start collecting cats and wearing an aluminum foil hat.

Molly hates baths. The day after giving her a bath you discover muscles you never knew you had or at least that you never used. Whenever a family member takes a bath Molly dedicates herself to removing all the evil water from the tub. It's very hard to relax in a hot bubble bath with the slurp-slurp every few minutes as Molly drinks a gallon or so of water. To make sure that we notice her efforts, she gives a big slobbery kiss to the bather every few minutes. The bathtub drinking isn't any less distracting when I'm kneeling over the tub scrubbing a wiggly toddler.

Why does this week's list still have everything from last week on it? 

When I was a teenager, a boyfriend and I found what we thought was the perfect place for parking. It turned out that it was clean, quiet and safe because it was the edge of a golf course. Someone called the police and they came up quiet as mice only to startle us with their giant flashlights. They lectured us and said they might be contacting our parents later. Children of the 80's were not armed with cell phones or educated by the Internet, so I went home and called the only person I could think of who would understand, the late-night rock station dj. He counseled me that they would have called our parents on the spot if they had been inclined to do so and that we should choose a better spot next time. That wasn't a problem, because the incident cured me of any courage to go parking. Do radio stations even have live personalities at night any more?

Once upon a time there was a family who took forever to get their Christmas tree lit and decorated. When it was finally up there was much rejoicing. At the beginning of January it was time to take it down. The 8-year-old frowned and asked "Can't we just take it to the garage all put together so we won't have to wait so long next year?" The 2-year-old cried crocodile tears and pleaded "Tree, tree, come back tree. Fix it please!" I wonder what next Christmas will be like for these poor, traumatized children.

A VERY long time ago when I was just a child and my youngest brother was a toddler, our clothes dryer caught fire. Yes, my clothes dryer problems started with my ancestors. The flames were shooting out of the dryer, but my mother reached through the flames to unplug the dryer and drag it from the wall while shouting at me to take my brother next door. The fire department came, my mother had her burns bandaged by our neighbor and the entire house was a smoke disaster. My father heard nothing about any of it until he walked in the door after a full day at work. I don't think my mother EVER called my father at work. Whatever the problem was, it was hers to solve during the day. I must have learned nothing from my mother's stoicism. I rarely call Doug when he's working, but I text message him about everything. In making fathers more aware and involved in their childrens' lives I worry that we've confused and overwhelmed them into thinking that they must solve every problem.

Once upon a time Doug was driving through downtown Knoxville and saw a woman walking down a busy street. He was riding in the Jeep without the windows and she asked him if he could give her a ride. They made it about a block before he realized he was not a good samaritan, but a customer. He let her out at the intersection and drove away embarrassed.

It's Girl Scout cookie time in East Tennessee. When that girl comes to your door, please be nice. You don't have to buy the cookies, just don't be rude and hateful. You would not believe the awful things that people will say to Girl Scouts trying to sell cookies. You're on a diet and have no need for the cookies? Most troops are also collecting boxes of cookies for community organizations. Just order the boxes you want to donate and pay for them in February. The Girl Scout troop will deliver the cookies to a needy place. Our troop is collecting cookies for Ronald McDonald House. Our troop is older girls and this usually elicits some negative comments from people who think scouting is only for cute little Brownies. Older girls need friends too. Teens who are active in organized activities are healthier, happier and safer. Think of it as what girls do before sororities. The cost of the cookies is the main complaint the girls hear. No, they are not a bargain. They are a fundraiser. That money pays for council staff, the camp's maintenance and scout activities. Last year our troop used their cookie profits to have a sleepover at the Knoxville Zoo. It was fun, educational and something that most of us would never have done if it weren't for Girl Scouts and the cookie sale. The next time a Girl Scout asks you if you want to buy some cookies, ask her what her troop is going to do with their profits.

No more pepto-bismol and bubble gum colored blog for me! Megan cleaned up my site and I think it looks MUCH better. What do you think?

Are you sure it's not a Monday? or a Friday the 13th? Can I just go back to bed and start over tomorrow?

In the mornings I used to start my day at the computer but now I wait an hour or so for Doug to finish whatever he's doing. Once the children get home from school one of them is usually on my computer. In the evenings Doug is again on my computer. I will be soooo happy when Sarah and Tommy's computers are up and running so I don't have the only computer upstairs.

Types of toddler naps - Toddler naps come in two varieties. The first type happens when their parent needs that down-time to actually get something done. In this case, the parent puts the child back in bed until they are so exhausted they can't get anything done. Sometimes the parent actually falls asleep waiting for the child to nap. Occasionally, the nap battle continues so late that the parent ends up waking their own child so that child will not be energized all night long. The second variety of nap happens when the parent is so exhausted they want a nap of their own. In this case it is a battle of willpower to see who falls asleep first. If the parent falls asleep first, expect massive destruction upon waking. If the child falls asleep first, take that nap because you're going to need it to get through the afternoon. There are rumors of a third type of toddler nap. My own mother claims that I used to crawl under tables or behind furniture and just fall asleep whenever I was tired. Put aside this floor business that a therapist might use to explain why I'm so strange and think about this falling asleep on my own fable. This is a perfect example of parental amnesia. The same amnesia which is responsible for every child after the firstborn. Parenting kills brain cells and causes formerly intelligent adults to forget and even alter their actual memories. The next time your mother-in-law tells you that her children were potty-trained at age one, smile and recognize the parental amnesia.

No, we are not naming this baby "Murphy". How about John, Paul, George or Ringo? Or Roger, David, Nick, Rick or Sid? There's always "Omega".

Tommy wouldn't get up this morning so we had to drive him to school. After that Amy went to the pede to get her stitches out and Molly visited the vet. All of that took so long that Doug didn't have time to go anywhere fun. Something about needing to work. Now Amy and I play with toys until it's time to pick Sarah and her friend up from art club. No, Amy plays with toys and I clean up toys.

Since Michael brought up the subject of Hardees commercials, my favorite one has a pregnant woman pigging out on a thickburger while a voiceover informs her that she'll be spending her next 18 years at McDonalds. I can't find it online but if you have small children I think you'll understand the humor. I have made it very clear that the day one of my children gets a driver's license is the last time I am ever going to McDonalds. They can take themselves or beg a sibling to drive them. With all the fast food restaurants out there, why do we always end up driving through McDonalds between soccer games, scouts, school activities, doctor appointments and all the other things that keep us on the move?

So THAT'S what I should do. :) 

When I'm pregnant I stockpile things. Not useful things, but stupid things. I'll just get it in my head that we need something and every time I am in a grocery store I'll buy that item. We are STILL using the sandwich sized ziplocs that I accumulated when I was pregnant with Amy. I noticed this morning that we have 20 pounds of sugar in the cabinet. Lucky for me, Doug finds this funny. He is also amused that I am constantly dropping things (clean-up on aisle 8). He is less amused when I wake him up in the night because I've had a bad dream and not the least entertained by my tendency to have fender benders while pregnant.

Early this morning the alarm clock radio turned on. Even though I pushed every button, turned down the volume and unplugged it, it still played Paul Simon. Then, I woke up and mashed on buttons until it quit playing.

Don't grocery shop when hungry, unless you are always hungry. In that case, be prepared for the strange look on your spouse's face as they peek in the bags of food. "Umm, did you buy anything practical?" You mean muenster cheese and crab legs aren't practical foods for picky children?

I think pet rocks have more energy than I do right now. Oh how I miss caffeine.

Perhaps a Rocky Top Brigade gathering is too limited and we need an East TN Blogger gathering in February or March instead. I'll even get the grandparents to babysit so my horde of children don't destroy the location of choice.

I can't decide which looks sillier, Molly carrying two tennis balls in her mouth at the same time or Molly carrying a stuffed animal in her mouth and using her front paws to kick a small basketball all over the floor. I blame it on all those soccer games we took her to last fall.

Cookie training is tomorrow and the sale starts next week so prepare to be vented upon. "Would you like to buy some Girl Scout cookies?" How did we manage to destroy this house so much when the whole weekend was spent searching for new coats and shoes for everyone? Q - Why did we get new coats when it's in the 60s this week? A - Because they were 75% off and it will be in the 30s this weekend. Mostly because they were less than 20 dollars each. Several family members got new computers this past week and they have generously given their not-very-old ones to Sarah and Tommy. I expect LOTS of begging while they wait for Doug to drop the cable into their bedrooms. Tommy, aka "He-who-doesn't-like-to-do-anything-helpful" has already offered to do anything he can to help speed up the computer installations.

I love my husband, but some of the things he does make no sense. If your husband seems busy and you don't tell him all the things that need to get done, he gets annoyed. "Why didn't you just ask for help?" If you tell your husband all the things that need to get done, he gets annoyed and grumbles about having to do everything. Either way, you annoy your husband and get no help.

Today Amy is swollen, bruised and stitched together. Lucy has been banished forever to the basement or Tommy's room (She's his dog). 

Unfortunately, the very old golden-mix doesn't like to be pestered. Amy went too far and Lucy snapped her face. 

This is where the problem started. Amy thinks dogs are for climbing, poking and pulling. Molly lets Amy climb all over her, count her teeth and pull on her ears. They are best friends.

I'm too tired to tell the long version of the story, but the short version is that instead of getting anything done I spent the evening at Children's Hospital getting stitches in Amy's eyelid. She's fine but I'm exhausted and totally unprepared for Girl Scouts tomorrow. Pictures of a very brave toddler tomorrow.

The Rocky Top Brigade needs to have a get-together. Nothing complicated, just some restaurant, coffee shop or bookstore at an appointed day and time with bloggers trying to put names to faces.

Help the economy, eat a donut. 

broken car = no errands or groceries

I'm halfway there, so I'm going to bore and offend people by making a few comments about being an older mom. If you are over 35, you are encouraged to take an AFP test. This is a simple blood test that tells you if you are at an increased risk for serious problems with your baby. The problem with this test is that besides the results being affected by the baby's health, the test also "dates your blood" so, if you are over 35 you are guaranteed to get red-flagged results. Doesn't that make the test pointless for women over 35? Skip ahead to the recommended step for women who test increased risk. The next thing recommended is an amniocentesis. This is an invasive test that gives a lot of very accurate information. What do the medical professionals do with this information? They tell you to choose if you want to have this baby. Why do I need a dangerous test to know if I want this baby? So, I said no thank you to the AFP and I was informed that I needed to sign a form that I was refusing the test. Next comes the ultrasound. This is not my first child so I fully recognize the difference between my first ultrasound and the one I just had done. First ultrasound is sweet and educational, "there are his toes and look at how well he can move around right now". Older moms get an ultrasound more like this: "Ok, I don't see any thickening at the base of the skull and his palate looks intact. Let's check his organs." The point of all this is that I am left feeling more than a little paranoid and anxious. I can only imagine the guilt and pressure that is heaped upon moms over 40.

Uncle Matt and Aunt Carmen are bringing Sarah a happy surprise this weekend. Everybody help me nag nudge Doug to get her room wired before Saturday. Note: I'm trying to be less slothful about mentioning Doug's blog. ;)

At yesterday's 2 1/2 hour IEP we reviewed the test results of school psychologists and outside experts brought in just for testing and evaluation. The result of their countless hours of effort was the determination that Tommy has Aspergers and all of his behaviors are caused by his place on the Autistic spectrum. I wonder how many tax dollars it took to determine something that was diagnosed 10 long years ago? I marvel at the amount of time we waste on pointless meetings and paperwork. What would YOUR day be like if you cut out bureaucracy?

Apparently today I'm not supposed to open my atom feed and just read the gazillion blogs I like. Everyone wants a comment today as well. So, I'll see how many I can get done before chaos breaks loose over here. Update: I've made it through almost all EXCEPT for the no-comment blogs and CamEdwards, whose filters are so high that I couldn't even make a casual comment.

Today begins with a potentially nasty and unpleasant IEP for Tommy. I think I'll sit and create a bingo game during this one. Similar to the type used at boring business meetings, mine will be filled with the special vocabulary used in IEPs. Words like development, goals, reinforcement, behavior, etc. I could get a whole card just on the abbreviations - ABA, IEP, LRE, etc. I think I'll leave out the diagnosis they like to toss around. At least Amy will be there to keep the meeting under three hours.

Julie's obituary. Julie's grandfather T.J. and my grandfather were brothers. When my great-grandmother had her children, someone from the county would come by and fill out the paperwork for her. All his life, people assumed that T.J. stood for Thomas Jefferson or something similar. Nope. His birth certificate listed his name as T.J. because that was what the county worker wrote down. Being barely literate, my great-grandparents didn't realize this error for years and then they just accepted it like they did whatever life gave them. They did allow my grandfather to join the Navy when he was a teenager so that he would get the education they never had.

We could name the new baby "Sue".

I have a really clear picture that tells me what color booties our baby will be wearing this May. Did the technician see a hot dog or a hamburger? Any guesses?

I wake up every night and toss for 2 or 3 hours before I fall back asleep. Last night I woke at 3 a.m. and realized the cat was sitting an inch from my face, staring at me. I interpreted her message as "If you're awake you should be petting me." I reached to pet her and she angrily chomped down on my hand. I quickly re-interpreted her message as "Quit tossing around, you're annoying me." I turned my back to her, pulled the covers up high and hid my hands underneath the blanket. Cranky kitty.

Because the Christmas decorations need to be put away, a dozen loads of laundry done and another load of dishes done, I spent today cleaning out my bathroom drawers and sorting through the stuff under the bathroom sink. Let's see what I can misprioritize tomorrow.

Instead of resolutions, I've started a list of 101 things to do in 1001 days. I was too exhausted to finish my list today, but it's enough to get started.

Somewhere outside Franklin yesterday afternoon, my very young cousin was killed in a car accident. Her two tiny children were rushed to Children's Hospital in Nashville and are in very bad shape. I will not be going to the funeral in Parsons this week. I know she'll be laid to rest in the family cemetary next to her mother who lost a long hard battle to cancer several years ago. I remember Julie as a round faced little girl with a contagious smile and sweet, Southern drawl. I should be thankful for my family's health and safety, but right now I'm sad. Hormones and lack of sleep have me weepy right now. Tomorrow will be better.

It's 3:30 and only one girl is sleeping. Mom is getting surly. "No throwing salsa!" 

We played with yarn while we watched Princess Diaries 2.  

We had fun with a pinata.