Blogging makes the world go round

We take a break from our regularly scheduled studying to bring you this random message:

A funny thing happened this week as I was trying to figure out how on earth I was going to survive my to-do list, volumes I, II, and III. In assessing my priorities, I realized that my blog was on that list. How did that happen? It actually stumped me because I am not so sure why it is. I really don’t feel an obligation to blog. I just, um, well, I think I enjoy it.

When I started blogging, it was a way to share some pictures of Kate with misplaced family and friends. It was also a place to put all of the random thoughts taking up valuable real estate in my brain. I hadn’t engaged in writing, outside of the corporate setting (and how riveting is a memo analyzing healthcare plan design?), in about 12 years. I didn’t realize I liked it so much. Coming from a person who rarely, If ever, does something for herself, that is pretty big news. So, in part, my blog has been something I maintain to feed my creative side.

I certainly never envisioned my blog being read by other people. Heck, I don’t even think I am that interesting. I’m being serious here people. To have hundreds of people reading my blog daily is an incredible, certainly welcome, surprise. I still don’t fully understand this new passion, but I am starting to realize it’s an integral part of my day. It’s become a priority. That only means one thing … something else has to go. I really should be lying on a strategically positioned sofa, staring up at the ceiling, debating this with a professional. On second thought, I think that is what the internet is for.

So, I am curious. Why do you blog? Why do you read blogs? Why do you read this blog? Give me something to help in my absolute unprofessional assessment of the human psyche.

In impolite blogger fashion, I apologize for not being on top of responding to comments right now. In all honesty, I shouldn’t even be here right now. We will assess that character flaw at a later date.

Off to cry into my textbook.

We now return to our regularly scheduled studying.

Does anyone have a Delorean handy?

I am in the midst of a major conundrum. This week is the last week of class for the two Master’s classes I am currently taking. Briefly yesterday I thought to check the official academic calendar. Imagine my surprise when I realized that this week technically ends Friday, not Sunday. People, Saturday and Sunday are the only days I have time for school.

School is important to me, but it ranks behind quite a few other monkeys on my back. Namely the one (sometimes two) other lives in my house that are overly dependent upon me. Then, there is this thing called work, complete with a boss who expects to see me at least 40 hours per week. Since that job pays my bills, it does not come with a lot of reprioritization.

(Insert panic attack here)

By midnight on Friday, I have to write a 15 page research paper, complete study questions for 9 chapters, take a final exam, complete a PowerPoint presentation, and some other random odds and ends lingering from these two classes.

(I’ve never had a panic attack before, but for some reason it feels like the situation warrants it. Let’s insert another one here.)

There are very few solutions that I can come up with to salvage the 4.0 GPA that I currently hold. On second thought, I know that globalization and outsourcing are the current rage. Do you think that there is some geek in Dubai that I could outsource my homework to?

Don’t look at me like that; I don’t see you coming up with any more reasonable solutions.

Do you want to supersize that?

First, I am not sure to what I owe to honor of being featured as a Saucy Blog this week. If you are visiting from SITS, welcome. Pull up a chair, get comfortable, and stay awhile.

Our household has been fairly health conscious in our eating habits. By our household, I mean unwillingly and under duress. Craig would survive on Doritos, Nutty Bars, and Mountain Dew if I let him, but I don’t. As a result of my desire to rule the earth, errr, my house, we have subsequently raised a toddler who is a good eater. It isn’t unusual to see her eating salmon, asparagus, or feta cheese. To appease all of the haters, I am not saying that we don’t allow her indulgences; they have just been exactly that – occasional indulgences.

However, life has sort of thrown us for a loop over the past six weeks. Are you sick of hearing about how miserable life has been in our household? Poor me, call the wah-mbulance, right? Since I am sick of hearing myself whine, odds are that you are one step ahead of me. As a result of all that nonsense, our decent eating habits pretty much went MIA. When the decision on the line is your sanity or fast food, fast food doesn’t seem like that bad of an option. Although my blog might be more entertaining had I opted for the other route and ended up with a case of The Crazy.

During this time of No Boundaries, an amazing phenomenon happened; Kate acquired a taste for garbage. I mean seriously, it is a pandemic. Give a kid McDonald’s once and they are jonesing for their next fix. Bribe a kid with a cookie and they expect a subscription to cookies-on-demand.

I didn’t realize it had gotten so bad until this weekend. Two things happened this weekend. First, upon discussing lunch on Saturday, Kate said, “let’s go get something to eat.” I said, “sure, we will pick up lunch on our way home.” With a look of disgust on her face, she replied, “NO, I want to eat lunch at a RESTAURANT.”

Gulp.

I didn’t realize I’d let it get that bad. What’s next, no make-up and sweatpants?

Second, she awoke on Sunday morning, convinced she was having ice-cream for breakfast. While I may have been slightly less Hitler than usual about breakfast choices, I can assure you that I had not allowed ice-cream for breakfast to happen. After some intense debate, Kate quickly learned that ice-cream was not an appropriate breakfast food. Without missing a beat, she looked up at me and said, “I think just a bit of ice-cream would help my little cough. Actually, it would be perfect.”

My brain should not get this much exercise from a not-yet-three-year-old.

Why yes, we did cut down our own tree this year

This weekend we went to a Christmas tree farm to pick out our tree. I find the idea of farms like this totally amusing. You get the liberty of saying you went into the woods and cut down your own Christmas tree. That sentence carries implication of sweat, hard work, and dedication. However, what you don’t need to disclose is the fact that the farm is designed in rows, where you literally drive up and down each, in search of the ideal tree. Upon identification of said tree, you place the vehicle in park, step out of the car, and quickly cut the tree down. It’s no pain and all gain. That is how we roll around here. Take heart that we will gladly proclaim that we spent Saturday cutting down our own Christmas tree IN THE WOODS. Yes, and in TWENTY DEGREE weather. I’m exhausted just writing about it.



It did take slightly longer than anticipated, but doesn’t everything with a toddler? It was right about this time that I started to get cold. We will say that despite my husbands' best advice, my approach to dressing leaned more towards fashion sense and not common sense. Instead of enjoying the tree cutting experience, I stood there freezing my ass off, fighting off thoughts in my head that included the words “Craig was right” and “I should have dressed warmer” in the same sentence.



Tommy Boy has ruined me forever, so when I look at this photo, all I can think about is Fat Tree On a Little Truck…



We made it home with the tree still intact, deeming the whole experience a whopping success. Our expectations aren't too high around here.

I'd like to introduce exhibits A&B

I’m semi-nervous that I’ve set you all up for disappointment. Remember, I did not claim to be crafty, but this is as good as it gets.

This whole taking a picture of a picture thing was totally ghetto fabulous. Despite having the proper equipment to do stellar photo editing (CS3 anyone?), I am taking a picture of a freaking picture. Next time I will learn to do a back-up of my photo files prior to a virus wreaking havoc on my life. I still have CS3, just don't have the original photos to upload. To up the ghetto ante, the editing of our personal information consisted of cutting out a piece of paper and placing it over the photo. I’m sure Brittany Spears has more class than that. Then the second photo … totally had to cover up the flash to minimize the glare.

We have moved up one rung on the socioeconomic ladder tonight folks.

May I present to you exhibit one – Christmas 2006: Staring Miss Kate 10.5 months old.



May I present to you exhibit two – Christmas 2007: Staring Miss Kate 22 months old.


(Sorry it is so dark ... click to enlarge)

Ladies and gentlemen, please hold your applause until after the show. Barring any disasters, exhibit three may be posted this weekend.