Thank You Notes

Dear Apple,

Thank you for making a wireless keyboard that can withstand one very full mug of hot drink in the first week of use.

Dear JoAnn's Fabric and Craft,
Thank you for shipping to military at a time when I was desperate to acquire Distress Ink to add to my dust-gathering craft room to start a new hobby, however, rumour has it that folks in Atlantis are still waiting for something they ordered...


Dear Disney World in Orlando Florida,
Thank you for readily accepting my children's college funds for our upcoming Autumn vacation.
Enclosed with our room request (close to the laundry room please) is a weather request. I prefer not to walk around soaked before I ride the Kali River Rapid ride please, so a few notches down on the heat would be great. Grumpy heat-hating Son will be joining us again--in his own room-- so I know he'd appreciate a cool breeze for a few of the days as well.

Dear Hubby,

Thank you for my Valentine's Day gift. Although some women swoon for chocolate, roses and diamonds, you knew just the perfect gift that would strike that cupid's love arrow...






I love my new number plates!



Also I'd like to publicly thank you for not only NOT being upset when my
"Simon Lappin King of Spain" flag went terribly wrong, but instead, for generously helping me to clean his Scottish footballer face off our kitchen worktop because I had forgotten to put something under my transfer-- without ever saying, "That was pretty stupid."



Dear J2's School,
Thank you for not reporting me to Child Protective Services yet. My child really is ill and spent the entire half-term holiday wrapped up like a burrito on my sofa. I would love to come sit in on his classes if you wouldn't mind sending someone here to relieve me. please.


Dear Bloggers Who Aren't Doctors But Play One on Their Blogs,

Thank you for your welcomed diagnosis on the following symptoms: Child who usually NEVER cries, crying with painful headache. Spiking fever. Sporadic bouts of vomiting, usually following the pain. Red, spotty rash resembling chicken pox or measles on face that spreads down through the arms but no where else. Spots and rash disappear when the fever is reduced. No symptoms are constant. May be bad in the morning, gone in the evening or reversed. Illness completely consumes Mother's time and energies, especially when shared with siblings who managed to kick it much quicker (and had varying degrees of symptoms-- one boy had welts instead of spots)


Dear Blog World,

Thank you for not deleting my blog when one busy day turned into two and next thing I knew there was no posting for two weeks. I forgive anyone who didn't notice I was gone.
really.
No hard feelings that noonecaredthatImayhaveoverdosedonchocolate.


Dear Belly Dancer and Jillian Michaels DVD makers,

Thank you for your efforts to create something really wonderful for me to use in my own home. If the local community were aware how perilously close they came to dying from laughing hysterically, they'd be thanking you for creating a product to keep a very uncoordinated woman away from the unsuspecting folks trying to learn in a community environment.

I'm sorry your wonderful dvds are being neglected since their arrival and hope you're not upset that I haven't given you feedback for your still-in-the-shrink-wrap product.

Dear iTunes,

Thank you so much for not awarding me the prize. What in the world would I find to spend $10,000 iTunes credit on? It's stressing me just thinking about it.

Dear Lord,

Thank you for ignoring my whinges about a particular female living in our house because of her nocturnal gypsy spirit. Even though I tell everyone it's miserable how she wanders into our room in the middle of the night and I insist that she stays only because I'm too tired to lift an arm, much less her solid cement bag-like toddler body (and Dad sleeps as soundly as a chunk of concrete), the truth is I like her sweet, little girl smell and the warmth of her body with my arms around her. I do NOT like the feet that sometimes kick the blankets off or bruise my kidneys, but I'm trying to be a more grateful person, so thank you.

All Because I chose To Do Something Frivolous...

...like clean my refrigerator (you know, remove all unintentional science experiments growing in Tupperware containers).





The tile and white carpet are just as pretty.





Hosted by Cecily and Mamarazzi

Choices

You think you're doing everything you can to be a good mother.

Clothes are clean for school and you whinge very little about the sleep lost making it so.
Meals are balanced and healthy, yet still edible by picky palates.
Santa, under your personal direction, always manages to pull off miracles.
Birthday parties never disappoint, even when a heinous, last-minute sand storm eliminates all but one child from the guest list of child's last party in the U.S. in March 2006.



The child's needs have all been met.



So why is it,

when said child is presented with a spectacular opportunity--for his 10th birthday-- to run out onto the pitch of family's favourite footy team, with the player of his choice...

does he pick Dad to be his one allowed companion?

Dad?!

The guy who would forget to feed the child if there was a level to beat on Guitar Hero.
The man who thinks a well-balanced diet consists of frozen pizza.
The same man who wouldn't see anything wrong with child being labeled for life as: "kid with the craziest bed-head", "kid whose clothes never match", "kid who is late for school regularly".

Somebody is having nothing but saltine crackers for dinner for a while...

The Effects of Being Youngest of Five

From this angelic face, "What's up my homey bro?"

A New Trend

Something concerns me.


I'm afraid all intelligent (and/or) witty conversationalists must have all become bloggers and are presently holed-up in their houses somewhere.

I spent 12 hours out of my home today, traveling to London and back and found people as entertaining as a pile of rocks.
Don't think I'm being hard on the Brits-- Nearly all of those people were on the American base.

How hard is it to smile at someone?

Or hey, here's a novel idea, LOOK AT THE PERSON WHOSE THINGS YOU ARE RINGING UP.

Admittedly, I'm usually too friendly. I'm the lady you run from in the grocery store when she starts giving you tips on where the better deal is. I don't want to be your best friend, I will not follow you home. You can smile, tell me the weather looks nice and leave.
However, today after the day of dullness I was feeling a little snippy and tired of trying to bond with strangers. The commissary baggers that love to throw tomatoes, grapes, eggs and bread at the bottom of a bag of canned goods?
Well, because of my irritable disposition, there's one bagger that will think before he ever again bounces the cart off a curb like he's four-wheeling.

"Oi! I have breakable jars in there!"

"Oh, you do?"

"Well yes-- you should know, you packed them!"

He spent the next five minutes throwing bag on top of breakable bag into the back of my car while apologizing and admitting he shouldn't have taken the curb that way.

I don't know why I'm complaining, at least he talked to me.