I cracked the case!!

Nancy Drew triumphs again!!

However, the family which hired me has sworn me to secrecy so I can't tell you anything about it, except that Blackmoor Manor is not cursed. And I'm brilliant.

Since I can rest peacefully this evening, I am signing off. I will certainly read the remainder of the Nancy Drew Mystery I started, "The Clue of the Broken Locket." Those books are not even remotely as complicated and involved as the computer game. Maybe Nancy is so savvy she just figures it out without blinking. Maybe she thinks we aren't sleuthy enough to follow along. I'm voting that last one, because pretty titian-haired Nancy's clue journal had insufficient information recorded. In fact, it sounded downright like the books. I had to keep copious notes on paper. I had to ask the talking parrot for hints about 10 times a day. I guess I'm Bess, Nancy's pretty blonde friend inclined to be little plump. Okay, I used to be blonde, I'm going ahead and claiming pretty, and, well, I fit that last one. Bess isn't known for her detective prowess, but she's "one of the world's best sports when the necessity arises," according to Nancy. Yep, I'm Bess, because I was an excellent sport when the carnivorous plant ate me up. Twice. I know - I should have learned, but the second time I tried to placate him with a piece of turkey so I could see if he had a clue hiding somewhere.

Exhibit A - Photograph of the copious notes mentioned above.
So, goodnight, my friends. The broken locket is calling my name.

The case has me stymied

So, in other news:

I mega grocery-shopped.
I reorganized the pantry.
I put the groceries away. (Oh, wait, the lettuce is on the counter. Dang.)
I folded all the clothes.
I put them away. (Oh, wait. There's a load of whites in the dryer. Dang.)
I read a few pages of a Nancy Drew mystery to Claire. Yeah, I said "read." She listened quite closely. It was blissful.

I'll tell you a weird thing about me. Just one in the myriad, but it is pertinent to item two on the list.

Here's the thing: When my drawers and closets and cabinets are all clean and tidy, I feel like my house is nice and organized, even when it is a sty. However, if the house is totally picked up and scrubbed, and the closets and whatnot are all messy, I feel like my house is a wreck. What's that all about?

And now, what Claire said (sorry J.W., I wrote this post after I commented on your blog.) I asked Claire what she liked to eat so I could add things to my mega-shopping list. While she was thinking about it, she said, "I know what you like - kissing. But that's not to eat."

No wonder my mom says she is her weirdest grandchild. And if you know my sisters' kids, that is saying something. Yeah, I said it. I ain't afraid.

And just because Sarah thinks posts without pictures are worthless...

My name is Nancy Drew

I don't have time for you people; I'm in the middle of a big case.


(Computer game. 'Nuff said.)

Sweet Miriam

My brother and his wife had a baby, and I just need to brag. Her name is Miriam, and she is SO BEAUTIFUL!

Do you know what rhymes with "vicious?"

"Delicious."

Which is the cycle that Milky Way and Coke have me running through like a hamster on a wheel. A ridiculously delicious meal - I mean wheel - that I have no desire to jump off of. Uh oh - the only problem with that analogy is that a hamster on a wheel is exercising, whereas me...

It's like the book says, "If you give a Jen a Coke, she'll want a Milky Way to go with it. And chances are, when she eats the Milky Way, she will ask for a Coke to wash it down."

Bittersweet

My show, the one and only one (now that "Life" is cancelled) had it's finale tonight. It was wonderful wonderful, and I am glad, but now what? I hate summer. If you have to ask what my show is, I'm appalled. It is NCIS.

In other news...

I forgave nature for the fleas and went to the park with some friends today. The weather was gorgeous, and we didn't even burn (thank you SPF 10,000!) It's looking good for going outside tomorrow.

I'm really really grouchy, and checking the calendar, there is a high likelihood that it is pms. Watch it, people. Example: Andy carried Charlotte downstairs to my bed so I could get her ready for school. She was almost asleep. I was nudging her and telling her to wake up. Nothing. So I pushed her legs off the bed to force her to stand. She started crying and saying she was so tired. Me (in bed and probably near tears because I was also so tired) told her briskly to get herself upstairs in her bed, then, and she can stay there all day. It sounded reasonable to me. Actually, it sounded ideal, and I wanted to sentence myself to the same. She just stumbled off in tears to get dressed. Mine is the only kid who chooses school over a day in bed. I'll remind her when she is a teenager.

I'm having the pre-summer pipe dream. That is, I'm starting to think about all the wonderful things I will plan to do with the kids this summer as well as the cheery daily schedule that will keep us structured and productive. Big sigh. We aren't structured now. We barely have wake-up and bedtimes for the kids, and this is with a school schedule to follow. Still, I will plan. There will be limited tv and computer. There will be chores and practice work (I know, but Claire has some progress to make before kindergarten. I'm not sure she knows her ABCs, and she sure doesn't know how to write her name.) There will be playtime and naptime and set meal times and weekly outings (yeah, I said "outings." I'm channeling Mary Poppins.) I've only got 2 weeks to roll out the new regime, though. Crunch time. That means look-up-the-new-season-of-"Project Runway"-online-so-I can-carefully-include-crap-tv-viewing-into-my-summer.

As I sit on the fence at the corral...

...yeah, so, not quite on the saddle. But I'm in the general vicinity.

Charlotte has been saying stuff. Like yesterday when I was stretching and my belly showed. "Mom, you really need to go work out at the gym more." I said, "Honey, that isn't a nice thing to say." So she got her compassionate look on and said, "I love my mom no matter what she looks like."

She redeemed herself today when she told me that the skirt Grandma and I made for Claire looked like it came from a store. My mom really made it, but I am taking the compliment. Talent trumps tummies every time, even if it is borrowed talent.

I had doughnuts for breakfast, or as I tell my dear friend and workout partner, "broccoli." She is a true cowgirl in the saddle. (Her husband reads this, sweet man, so he can pass on the compliment.) This isn't a confession, just a statement. For those of you who know, I had a glazed buttermilk from Shipley's. Be jealous. For those of you who have never had one, they only make them on the weekends (at our Shipley's anyway), and they are enormously delicious! Redefines doughnuts. Elevates them to a level on par with wedding cake. I'd actually stack them up and serve them at a wedding.

I have broadened my horizons from Digby's Donuts and Webkinz to several other computer games (thanks a lot, Leslie.) Jo Jo's Fashion Show, Chocolatier, Farm Frenzy, something about a Jaguar's Eye. If you can't stop yourself from playing Solitaire on the computer, then you know what I am feeling. It starts with adding Minesweeper and Hearts. Then you get onto MahJong and Sudoku. Then you start playing games online like Bubble Town and Alchemy and Bejeweled. See, it's a gradual progression. Gotta feed the addiction, find new games.

I want you to know that I discriminate. I have some criteria that must be met. No war games or anything like fighting bad guys or combat games. No racing games. Just puzzle games. Your only opponent is time, really.

Now, all this talking about doughnuts has me thinking about Digby. I gotta go.

I hate the saddle.

See last post.

Back in the saddle. Again.

I'm going to the gym today. I'm dressed. I've eaten a heart-healthy breakfast. I'm seriously considering getting back off caffeine. I've lost three pounds while on it, though. Legal drugs, what can I say. It makes me want to abuse Ritalin and smoke as well (both known weight-loss agents!) Don't worry - I'll stick to Coke. I'll sacrifice the 140 calories.

I have, in my opinion, legitimate reasons to be discouraged from a healthy lifestyle. The anti-crazy drug I'm on causes weight gain. It sucks to be diligent at the gym and not drink Coke and cut back on junk and still gain. I'm not saying I was doing the greatest job at any of that, but still - I should see some improvement, right?

Anyway, I'm trying again under the pretense of heart health. I mean, I want heart health, too. I ain't downin' the heart health. I'm just, well, vain. No, not vain. My self-esteem has reached a point where I want to, as Jared Pabst says, reinvent myself. A la Madonna. Although only in the whole-new-look sense as opposed to the nasty-immoral-degrading-provocative sense.

Here comes a whole new me (with a Coke. You people need to recognize me somehow.)

Looking up

Yeah, things are looking up. I love that phrase. It connotes still being rock bottom in the mire of whatever-sucks-right-now, but at least you've changed the view. I didn't actually change the view, things just settled down, I guess.

The kids are well. Gabe takes his medicine like a big boy. The fleas are gone and the laundry is mostly done, and Charlotte returns to school tomorrow. What else was bugging me? Oh yeah - I showered. Miraculous.

To combat the over-social anxiety, I hid in my house. It worked, I feel renewed.

Mother's Day was lovely as ever. I always get breakfast in bed, and the girls drew me pictures of us holding hands and such. Gabe picked out a bag of candy for me at the store, and he did a good job. Andy cooked his part of the family dinner that we all share every year. I'm glad that I get to see my Mom each Mother's Day. It's fun to see her open her gifts and just hang out while the menfolk serve us and handle all the kids. Thanks, Andy!

I was so excited picking out a movie to watch with my sister this weekend. I love junk! We narrowed it down to "Peggy Sue Got Married," "Chances Are," and "High Spirits." "High Spirits" won out, but we both fell asleep. I've seen it before, but on Saturday Cinema, so who knows what was edited out. Who cares - I love Steve Guttenberg! And as a bonus, Liam Neeson is in it. You might not want to take this paragraph as a movie recommendation. I mean it when I say I like crap movies. I like them to be shallow and ridiculous. My fave movie for over a decade was "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" with Kristy Swanson. The only reason it is no longer the top of my list is because stupid Kristy Swanson ran off with her Skating With Celebrities partner who was married with a pregnant wife. I hate that. And once I don't like a celebrity in real life, I can't stand them in anything. Julia Roberts. As if she wasn't annoying enough. I got a list.

Lastly, I want to send out a heartfelt thank you to my sweet friends. Y'all were awesome throughout this minor breakdown of mine. Y'all are very patient people - I would have ditched me by now.

Why I can't blog

Well, I mean, I am, but I wasn't, and I may not again for awhile. I have been lambasted all at once by a load of things that, individually, would have been tough for me anyway.

• Social events. I can handle one a week. Maybe two. For two weeks, I've had a bunch. I have had multiple events on each Saturday. I don't cope well with this. I feel anxious and just want to unplug all the phones and sleep until everyone leaves.
• Emergency rooms. Yeah, I don't do those. First Charlotte got sick with a fever of almost 104F. It was a weekend, so the on call doctor sent me to the ER. I was near sick with fear since that little boy in Houston had just died of the swine flu, and Char's symptoms were flu-like (no, she did NOT lick a pig's snout). She was all traumatized by the nasal swab which, happily, showed no pig. Upper respiratory infection. Then, Gabe. Again with the fever. Since the symptoms were the same, I just treated him the same as Charlotte. However, his high fever didn't go down at all during the day despite medicine and tepid baths. I got scared. Off to the ER at midnight. Andy took him, and I sat around praying. Well, naturally, he didn't have the thing Char had - he had an ear infection. But he also had the nasal swab which resulted in hysterics every time someone tried to come near him. It took a couple of hours for his fever to go down. Then they sent him on home. I don't do scared well. I don't do sick kids well. I don't do two nights with little to no sleep well.
• Charlotte home from school all week. Tough.
• The ridiculousness of giving Gabe his medicine 4 times a day for the first couple of days. I had to 1) roll him up tight in a blanket, 2) clamp him between my legs, 3) put him in a headlock, 4) jack his head back and pry his mouth open, 5) squirt the meds in drop by drop and force him to swallow. It was a tragic comedy. He has adjusted. Now I just squirt it in drop by drop while dangling candy in front of him.
  
• Fleas. I have no pets. I think the kids are bringing them in from the backyard. Stupid nature. I tried treating it myself which is labor-intensive. No luck. The exterminator comes tomorrow. Until then, my kids wake up all bit up. Just so you know, this is not the first time we have gotten fleas with no pets. One day I'll tell you all about the racoons that lived in our ceiling. Things like this just freak me out. I feel nervous and disgusted in my home. I worry constantly and get all itchy although I've never been bit.
  
• Cleaning. I have to. Well, I have been tonight. I have the most get-up-and-go in the middle of the night which is, at the least, inconvenient.

The results of all this? I have shut out the world. I am in the same clothes that I put on Sunday morning. (Everyone can count, right?) I am paranoid and grumpy, and I eat crap all day (mostly Coke. That helps the sleeplessness SO much). I play computer games 12 hours a day. My kids eat Smarties as a generous portion of lunch.

So, I'll let you know when I am back to my brand of normal. It will probably be in June. I ain't playin'. I wish my digital camera wasn't busted; I'd take a picture of my haggard face and grody clothes.

Sick kids. That's it.