So today, I got home from work, and sat down for a brief decompression before starting supper, laundry, dishes and so on. And I saw this meme from Laurin Evans floating around. So I thought I’d jump in.

How do I do this blogging thing?

Usually from my couch. With my husband’s laptop. Which, really, at this point, is sooo much more mine than his. Poor guy.

I could go off to the porch, or upstairs to the “office”, but I usually choose the couch.

The most likely time for me to be on teh internetz is either during the kids’ breakfast, or after bedtime. It’s just easier to complete a thought when they aren’t interrupting every few minutes.

Plus, doing it on the couch makes it easier for me to set the laptop aside and spend some time with the husband. I’ve found that if I am in another room, I tend to get so distracted by the twitter and the facebooking and the blogging and so on, that I lose track of time.

But other than doing it on my couch, everything else is pretty flexible. Pajama pants help, though.

No picture for you, slacker that I am. My living room is messy, and I’m still in my scrubs. Don’t judge me.

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Congratulations on turning three. There were times we weren’t sure you would make it.

Like the week you got your first black eye, banged your head on the coffee table and gouged your forehead on the ATV.

Or the week you did this:

But survive you have.

You’re an odd mixture of too-brave-for-your-own-good and oh-so-cautious.

You are smart, handsome and funny. I am proud of you on so many levels.

Happy Birthday, little man.

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My dog is in so much trouble.

See, we have a fancy-schmancy PetSafe electronic fence. ’tis wireless. And it works by sending a signal out to a collar.

An expensive collar.

Which is missing, thanks to SOMEONE deciding to forage through the brush. Gone, without a trace. We suspect the El Cheapo plastic latch on the collar let go.

And APPARENTLY, someone realized it was missing. While I was at work, and TheMan was supposed to be wrangling creatures of both the four-legged and two-legged variety, SOMEONE sneaked out of the yard.

How do I know this?

Because the lovely police officer TOLD ME SO. The neighbors with whom we do not get along (they were consistently tearing up the residential road at ridiculous speeds, and so we called the cops. Now the whole charming bunch flips us off whenever they drive past) reported a “wild dog” who was scaring them.

The dog shouldn’t have been out of the yard. Period. That’s on us. Or the one of us who was home, at least.

However, she is ridiculously un-aggressive, and based on what they police officer was saying, I *suspect* there may have been exaggeration going on.

Also, we need to get a new dog license. On Tuesday, when the city is back to work.

Oh, but wait. As I went to pull out the paperwork needed to prove that she is not rabid, I noticed that her shots? Are out of date.

Barely.

But still. Out. Of. Date.

So now, I have to buy a replacement collar($120), a license ($40) and a round of shots for the dog.($100-150…and that’s if our vet can get her in on Tuesday…otherwise, who knows how much?)

I’m going to go curl up with my empty wallet now…..

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After watching the following commercial, the three of us (TheMan, BIL and I) all sat in silence. I looked at TheMan, he looked over to BIL, who looked at me.

I’ve included it, for your viewing pleasure.

Exactly.
So we’re all staring at each other, and I open my mouth to say, “That was the DUMBEST commercial I’ve ever seen.”

The guys crack up, and say they were blown away by the stupid, also.

And *I* open my mouth, and I say, “And did you notice, he was effing BAREFOOT, too???” Like, clearly, omg, this is horrific.

Neither one of the two noticed that the guy in the commercial wasn’t wearing socks when he put on his shoes.

Please, internetz, did you??

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The three-in-a-week-year-old boy child and I, snuggling on the floor. He’s in my lap. I wrap my arms around him and start kissing his adorable cheeks. “Whose my baby?” I coo at him, in that ridiculous voice that all parents have.

“Not me!” he declares. “I not a baby, I a BIG BOY!”

Rolling with it, I make sad eyes at him, “Oh, but mama NEEDS a baby, are you sure you’re not my baby? What will I do with NO BABY?”

Soothingly, he pats my head and offers his solution, “Get a baby at daycare? Daycare has LOTS of babies.”

*****

In one short week, we’ll be a baby-free house.  I say that like his birthday is the magic day. Preschool looms. Two-wheelers have been half-way mastered, and potty training has been accomplished.

But for now, I’m going to enjoy my baby-on-the-cusp every chance I can. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go embarrass him with kisses now.

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6 drafts.

SIX drafts.

That is what I have as a result of tonight’s struggle to write. Those six drafts will be added to the stack of other drafts I wrote on other nights, while I struggled to write.

I’m going to go soothe my bruised writing ego by writing about my fictional zombies. There’s less pressure to be good there, because I know how bad it is already. *snort*

Love you,

Jen ThePsychobabble

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Six years.

Six years is a long time.

Six years is hardly anything.

Six years is everything.

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Okay, I WANT to write a post. Badly.

But one half of my brain is teeming with zombies.

And the other half is busy trying to keep my big mouth shut about some awesomeness that I’m really excited about.

And that doesn’t leave much of my brain for writing a coherent blog post.

Or doing homework, for that matter.

Hopefully I can free up a wee chunk of brain for y’all in the near future.

Till then….

Love and such,

Jen ThePsychobabble

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A little give, a little get.

Get 30% off your in-store Gap/Old Navy/Banana Republic purchase, August 26-29, 2010.

Give 5% of what you’re spending to Feed America.

Combining shopping with charity? Awesome. When this promotion landed in my inbox, I was excited. When I discovered I could email out an invite to up to 50 people, I knew I had to share.*

Leave a comment (please fill in the email box) and I will send you out an email invite.**

*This isn’t a sponsored post. I do get the same 30% off that anyone else will get, but I was just really excited by the idea, and wanted to share.

**First 50 commenters only. If I get more than 50 comments though, I will probably pass out from surprise.

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Of course, by lazy, I mean “I’m off scrubbing floors/dishes/toilets and folding laundry/making meals/enforcing nap times/entertaining small children and pulling out my hair.”

***

Found out today that the school has delayed the start because of mold. Lovely. That means that instead of the relief my wallet desperately needed, we will be paying for daycare for two children, instead of one, for an indeterminate amount of time. Plus, when she does go back? I’ll be worrying about mold. (and I know they’re doing everything they can to make sure it’s safe before the kids start. Still. Worry.)

***

I go back to work tomorrow. My back still hurts. I’m worried about lifting/moving the residents around.

***

I started writing, fictionally, again. Zombies keep cropping up. I’ve decided to go with it. This thrills my husband to no end.

***

I am thinking I’m going to have to go back to, gah, scheduling things now that the semester has started for both TheMan and I. And with Truck starting pre-school, and MissQ (eventually) starting 5K….crazy busy.

That’s what’s up at the moment,

See you soon….

Jen ThePsychobabble

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