I am looking forward to being able once again to wear my hair in a bun by sticking a pencil into my weirdly frizzy, curly mess of hair...

I wish that I were at the beach ... neck deep in ocean water ... sunburnt and happy... weightless and bouyant...You would be there, wouldn't you?

When will I be able to feel relaxed in pearls? I only really want to wear pearls when I wear velvet, or white button-down shirts...

A teenage boy I once met died last weekend. I had heard him speak of the future. They say it was drunk driving...

Can we have a picnic in a field of wildflowers? Can I wear them in my hair? Can we drink kool-aide out of a champagne flute? And can I bring some candles? Can we eat off of china plates? Will you let me pretend that this is a pretty, pretty dream - but that we are still awake? And can we pretty please stay there until the sun starts to set and the lightening bugs flicker around us? Will you hold me in your arms and dance to no music - just so that you can have the chance to feel me next to you and smell the perfume of my hair?

I've always wanted to be a crystal champagne flute...But even if I was...I would still just hold kool-aide...common, everyday, run-of-the-mill kool-aide

Can I be your sunshine? Can I light up your day? If not - can I be your umbrella? Can I protect you? But I'm not an umbrella either... What am I?

I am cheesy and weird ...and happy to be that way. (By the way, the last blog was written by my beloved brother. Great poetry, huh?)

Would you want me when I'm not myself?

This one is from an unknown foot...
By Vljsmf

Hello there...
The ground is cool,
But the dishes in the dishwasher are churning
In an echo, a baby is crying
A human voice "who is there."
It was no one
just an echo
Gumby's crying
"CRAP!"





Drool is a part of day
feet in my face
aghast
unhappy pacifier
Closed eyes and open mouth
Clay and play dough rock my world
The smirfs do battle with heman
barbie is confused
Chewing pretzels remains a command
gi joe remains neutral
apricots!




A greeeeeen bookshelf stares at me
Books stare at a greeeeeen bookshelf
Half witted lamp
The jokes are in my hand
The fish sing lalala
Move over Copernicus
Just whimpy





Orange liquid passes time
Afterwords are seldom heard
The king's crown is broken
Gasping for clover
Distant screams are mute
The chair is hated by one
Sweet smells of new breath
Replayed composure

Hey, want to know why my friends call me whiskers?

Isn't it weird that baby swings play the most serious classical music? It's kind of the sort of thing that you would imagine being played at a Presidential inauguration or a wedding...And my son is making the cutest noises in protestation...

Baby Suri definitely does not exist. It is all a Scientology plot to delude the masses...

I am counting weight watchers points. We'll see how long this one lasts...

Peanut laughed at me this morning when I called him my"sweet sugar" and kissed his belly and forehead...

I like my pink gingham nightie. I am still wearing it this morning. I dreamed about it two nights ago...One of my friends had one just like it. And I was wondering why she was still wearing it in the middle of the day at someone else's house. And then I didn't blame her because it is so practically pretty - two words that don't often go together...

I do not like my pediatrician. I think that Peanut might be getting a cold - he has so much congestion in his little 7-week-old chest. Those idiots have not called me back this morning...

Cream cheese is some good stuff...

Cleaning carpet is sometimes a necessary evil. Thank heavens for Lysol spray...

I dread going to the pediatrician's office - all those undisciplined, horribly bad children... Someone please tell me where the respect has gone? Don't make me break out in a Justin Timberlake/Black-eye Peas song... Oh...That was the Supremes, right?...

Everytime that I look in the mirror, I wonder how Ican weigh my old weight and look so different. Sooooo flabby...I am tempted to revert to mom-jeans and sequined teddy bear t-shirts... ooooh, make that mommy-jorts with a fanny pack! And don't forget the mommy cut, big white fold-down socks and white tennis shoes! Now that's what I call mommy style!!!!
(Thank heavens my mama does not nor ever has dressed like that. Poor Peanut!... Poor Hubby...)

Hey, I'm getting ready to go to JCPenny to get some of these hip new jeans. Check it out here!

So, I just finished reading Wuthering Heights. Such a wonderful book!!! (Even if it isn't as great as Jane Eyre, it's still good readin'...) Here are some of my thoughts on the book...

1. Nearly everyone dies. But doesn't everyone die, anyway - at sometime...
2.Heathcliffe is the father-in-law from hell.
3.British chicks are weird - unless they are servants. Ellen - or Nelly - is someone that I would love to meet.Catherine needed Santa Clause. (Don't ask...or do. I'll explain...) Cathy needed some hard work and more hugs.
4.Hareton makes me laugh. But I still really, really like him. There is just something so weirdly funny about a little British boy who curses people in every breath...I know, that's awful...
5.If I had been left alone in a room with Linton, I would have blackened both of his eyes...and then laughed at him. He needed a good spanking.
6.What is up with these wicked people hanging puppies?
7.I would have thrown things at Joseph just to hear him curse me.
8.I wonder...Do people still run around on the moors in England? And...does anyone other than me think that it is funny that the main descriptor for any place in England is that it is "near London"? How is that clarifying anything anymore than just saying that it is in England?

I am going to read Georgia Scenes by Augustus Longstreet next. I have read some of this book before. It is one of the finest pieces of Southern Literature that I have ever read before. (The author was president of the University of South Carolina between the years of 1857 and 1861. That makes him okay in my book - even if he was born in Georgia. At least it was in Augusta, which makes it close enough to South Carolina.)

Hubby got me a copy of The Carolina Housewife. In case you didn't know, it is a cookbook published in 1847 in Charleston by the daughter of Edward Rutledge. It is really interesting to look at how people in the South cooked then...and compare it to today. Yankees don't know how to make grits...or collards...or fried chicken. Okay...so maybe more people make fried chicken than I would consider Southern. We'll let that one go...I guess.

I was drunk last night, dear mother. I was drunk the night before. And if you'll please forgive me...I'll never get drunk anymore.

I was thinking...have you ever been in a crowd where everyone is giving their "drunk stories"? They always become long, drawn-out tales...sometimes amusing...sometimes just boring as h-e-double hockey sticks... I don't have any personal drunk stories to add. So, what if I just made conversation by telling my cookie stories?

Here is my cookie story...
Omagah...This one time. I was just like eating cookies. And like this guy kept sending me more...right after I like finished one. And I couldn't like refuse them. SO I just kept like eating them. And then...I like ate so many. I like couldn't see where I was going. I like knocked into this like person. And they were like so angry. And like I didn't care...because I was like just singing La Cucaracha... And then I started to dance. (Insert loud, nervous laugh...and a slight pause...only to see who is listening.) I had like a few more cookies. And then I like passed out. I like vomited all over myself. Like I was saying..."Lord if you will let me get past this, I will never eat another cookie again."

Did you hear about the man who broke into really rich people's houses because he was under the influence of cotton candy? I wonder if it was regular cotton candy or ...FLUFFY STUFF!!!!

Wow. It's been a long time. My life is not my own anymore.

Yesterday was my 1st anniversary. We celebrated by taking Peanut to the museum. What is up with people not watching their children? I don't understand it. So many kids. So little discipline. Sorry - the "no running inside" policy sounds great to me.

Oh, yeah - Hubby and I went to Garibaldi's last night, too. It was a really fun, relaxing day. The food was good - at least mine was good - and the loud, obnoxious woman behind us was really, really loud. I detest loud, obnoxious women. Or men, for that matter. But I think it is somewhat worse for a woman to be loud. I just want to slap them. Especially in a restaurant. Maybe I should empty a glass of water on their heads.

I watched "The Pacifier" last night. I know - it sounds like a cheesy movie. But it's really great. Vin Diesel is this really buff Navy seal who has to guard a bunch of kids and find a top secret government ...something. Anyways, he beats up the vice-principal who is a horrid bully (don't you love the word "horrid"?) and he gets the girl - Lauren Graham. So any movie that's got a tough military guy who likes little kids -and wears his uniform in the movie - falling in love with Mama Gilmore... That's entertainment.

I am sitting on the bed with Peanut. He is being a little fussy right now. This is one of the rare times that I actually am not holding him while he is awake. He doesn't know what to think of it.

I have started to run again. And for heaven's sakes - I need to. I have never felt this large in all of my life. I have never felt this flabby in all of my life. I have never felt this miserable when I look in the mirror in all of my life. It's a good thing I don't have much time to look in the mirror.

I love being a mother. I love taking care of somebody. I have always wanted this. However, I am trying to find my new identity. I was just sort of getting used to being a wife. Now, I have a new role - which I am trying to do while doing everything else. (Forget the "balance" part of things. There is no balancing being a mother with everything else -at least for me. This is the most important thing in my life. I want to do this to the best of my ability - with God's grace, of course. ) Have you ever thought about it - if I screw this up, I screw up somebody's whole life. It is an awesome responsibility. I am completely not into the "hands off and see how it turns out" idea. I think that if we were made to be so completely independent, God would not have created families. I was thinking tonight about what my dreams are. But this is my dream. Being a mother. This is it. I am doing it. I'm not saying that I don't have other goals in my life. It's just that while I am adjusting to this - the most important thing I will ever do - they are all on stand-by...indefinitely.

I made beef stroganoff Friday night. I have really found out that I love to cook - even if I am not very good at it. I had to buy some wine to make the dish. I had never bought wine before, and I was surprised that the cashier had to card me. Isn't that weird? I bought the cheapest, rot-gut chianti on the shelf. There was this really sweet, really expressive lady in front of me in line. She turns around and stared at me as I walked up to the line with my jug. She smiled. I smiled. (I also admired the fact that she actually wore fake eyelashes to the grocery store.) 'That's some real good wine," she said emphatically. I couldn't help but laugh. Is that mean?

Peanut is asleep.

Yesterday at the museum... I had Peanut strapped to my chest in his little carrier. Hubby had walked off just a little ways to look at something. This weird, deranged woman walks by me and says..."He's just gettin' a little lunch, huh?" I had no idea what she was talking about at first. It wasn't until I thought about it that I realized - that freak of nature thought that I was breastfeeding my baby in the middle of the museum. If she hadn't looked - and sounded - like she liked girls instead of boys, I would have thought that she was president of the local La Leche league. Freak!! What will people think of next?

Does anyone remember the Offspring song that goes..."And all the girlies say I'm pretty fly for a white guy..."? I have that stuck in my head right now - don't ask me why... Is that a sign of insanity?

I finished reading Mansfield Park. It is a wonderful, wonderful book. I wonder if Jane Austen was like her heroines?

Wuthering Heights is dark, melancholy, comical and intriguing.

Peanut looks adorable in his Sesame Street pajamas.

Did you know that Crayola has partenered with Betty Crocker to make cookies that you can decorate by painting or drawing on them?

The summer is almost over. My first anniversary is this Sunday.

Build-A-Bear has cookie monster - with real cookie monster sounds!!!!!

For the first time in my life, I know that I am doing the job that God wants me to do. Always before, I felt that I was guessing - or I just couldn't see the whole plan. Now the plan for - at least this time - my life is so clear.

Peanut is making squeaky noises. He is in his swing looking at me. He can't understand why I am not holding him - and I can't either...