Hmmm

It's been an interesting month. It's amazing how quiet the house is with only two children in it.

Tonight I experienced Vietnamese food for the first time, and I think I'm in love. I had lemon-grass broiled beef over vermicelli with all sorts of interesting vegetables and peanut sauce, with the most see-through shrimp spring rolls I've ever seen, and a taro tea with tapioca. As I previously stated, I'm in love.

And good gosh! I forgot all about my ice cream! I got some Vietnamese ice cream, too. Three small scoops in one big cup. I think I've also found my new favorite dessert place. Let me go get the ice cream, because I'm really craving it now. You can't resist the call of green tea, mango, and plum wine ice cream. See you later!

...

Now that I'm back eating my scrumdiddlyumptious ice cream, here's a little game I stole from a friend's blog:

The Google Game

1. Body: 1-Type in "[your name] needs" in the Google search:
Jen needs to have a session or two with a therapist.

2- Type in "[your name] looks like" in Google search:
Jen looks like she's gonna stab you with that fondue stick. (Nice... maybe I do need that therapist)

3- Type in "[your name] says" in Google search:
Ms. Jen says - Preach it, brother!


4- Type in "[your name] has" in Google search:
Jen has a (voting) eater's manifesto. (???)

5- Type in "[your name] wants" in Google search:
Jen wants to adopt.

6- Type in "[your name] gives" in Google search:
Jen gives thumbs down to new round of Survivor.

7- Type in "[your name] takes" in Google search:
Jen takes Angie's place as "other woman."

Now that I've had a moment to dislodge my tongue from my throat, thus causing the babbling in my previous post, I can explain.

It's been a hell of a week.

I have never been so exhausted in my entire life, I don't think. Not even when I had little Busy-Izzy's round-the-clock colic to deal with. Not when I was in DIQ with Mary Kay. Wowzers.

It began Tuesday night. I went to pick up my BFF from the airport at 11:30 PM, and she was delayed by about half an hour because they lost one of her bags. So she's in the airport with 3 munchkins in the middle of the night, trying to fill out a baggage report.

Wednesday we contacted every Medicaid dentist in the Houston area and finally found one that would take patients under 8. Drove forty-five minutes away to get the Medicaid paperwork. Then I taught lessons and did a wine study for a market research company, which was actually a lot of fun.

Thursday we woke our butts up at the crack of dawn and went to said dentist's office for a crack-of-dawn appointment, and ended up staying all day filling out six months' worth of paperwork and attending appointments to go with said paperwork. I came home and taught lessons, or what was left of them by the time we got home. I had to cancel some of them, so a shout out to Mo for breaking into my house to get the numbers for me. Otherwise I would have stood them up.

Friday was relatively peaceful, if you don't count six children fighting all day long. By that night I needed a strong drink.

Saturday I bustled them off to Nana's for the night, where they've stayed because now I'm sick. Have been since Sunday, and the boy, too. We can't risk it, her kids are having surgery tomorrow and can't get sick.

But hopefully I'll be able to see them this weekend.

*Takes a long breath*

I hate being sick. I know I've said it before, but darnit, you're gonna hear it again. I hate being sick. I hate being sick.

I've got too much to do. My recital is now in 6 weeks, and I don't have an accompanist. I don't have a head count. I'm freakin' out. And I have to schedule practice sessions with the accompanist and my students, and jam sessions with those doing duets and the such. God help me, 'cause right now I'm too tired and sick to do anything about it.

I just want to be better by Thursday, 'cause I want to go to Roots. I hate missing it.

And I'm rambling the rant of a sick person hopped up on DayQuil, who can't think about much without it turning into gobblety gook. Because I hate sore throats and running noses almost as much as I hate sore throats and stuffy noses. It takes away all my desire to look presentable, and only after I'm well do I wonder, Was I drooling in front of people? Good grief, I hope not.

And I refuse to take NyQuil, so nights are tough. NyQuil makes me hallucinate. I don't know why. But I distinctly remember taking it and waking up to see the alligator (crocodile?) with the red cape from Disney's Robin Hood standing at the edge of my bed and waving at me. All I could do was smile and wave back. Because seriously, how many times do you see a Disney cartoon standing at the edge of your bed?

I'm rambling again. I'm going to bed before I start talking about something embarrassing.

Harrumph. Gobblety gurrismo pfffblat. Manashama blllach.

I'm too exhausted to explain right now. Five more minutes, Mom.

It's A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Today was utterly surreal.

It began with quiet reading of books intended only for something to read, not to intellectually stimulate me in any way (some would call it junk reading, that mindless process where you read stuff that's fun). When my husband woke up, he pitched in to help clean the house. We tackled the livingroom and dining room.

But... oh my, THE CHILDREN. It was Invasion of the Body Snatchers. These kids had been replaced, I swear. They cleaned their rooms WITHOUT COMPLAINT until all that was left was for me to sweep them. Then we went to do some light shopping, and they tagged along merrily behind us, my daughter on my cell phone talking to Grandma and Grandpa, my son dazzling passers-by with his 1000-watt smile and a shy little wave. We then went to McDonald's for lunch (it was either this or Chick Fil-A, but Mickey-D's has cold coffee now). The kids sat quietly while I ordered, came in quietly, and ate quietly until they were finished, and then proceeded to play nicely with the other kids there. The only comments before this were:

Izzy: "Daddy, there are 15 people here."
Eli: "Can I have some ketchup too, for my fries, please?"
Izzy: "Mommy, I don't want any more blue juice [Powerade, for those that don't speak Izzy]. Can I have some ice water instead?"

WHO ARE THESE KIDS? Certainly not mine. It's been a little Twilight Zone today. Because we came home, Izzy quietly played her game while Eli took a nap, then we went to the park and Izzy learned how to swing by herself.

No fighting. No pushing. No hitting. No back-talking. No attitude. I mentioned the word "quietly" four times in reference to my children, and if any of you know them, you know how I must feel at an utter loss for words.

It was like seeing the other side. The way I know most other parents live on a daily basis, and even complain about. One or two extremely minor scuffles considering how they normally act, but the rest of the day... a breath of fresh air. Smiling, engaged kids. Friendly. Sweet. Obedient.

I'm still kinda floating. Especially since we got to go out for dinner tonight, and they continued to be good for the babysitter, playing Go Fish and Candy Land until it was time for bed. Bry and I got gussied up and went to the Pregnancy Resource Center of Fort Bend's spring charity dinner. It was amazing.

Speaking of which, visit their website by clicking on this sentence. I was amazed at the impact this organization is having. They are really making waves! We committed to a monthly donation, and both Bry and I want to carve out an hour here or there to go help them with whatever we can. For those of you who know me well, you know that this issue has always been a "button" for me. I'm very convicted and very opinionated. It will make my blood boil faster than any other, and it did long before I really became a Christian. My view always just made sense to me.

So check out their site, and if you can spare something, anything, please help their cause. I plan to donate on an ever-increasing level as my budget allows. And if I were to suddenly become rich, I can tell you that every single life-based pregnancy center in the US would receive an ultrasound machine on me.

Anyway, about those mindless books... I've been reading the demon series by Julie Kenner. Like I said, mindless entertainment. I relate to Kate. She's a stay-at-home mom balancing a toddler, carpools, her husband's career, and fighting demons. She drives an Odyssey (YAY!). She gives in to her kids too much. She *ehermmm* enjoys the man she's married to. And she loves her family so much that she comes out of retirement with a secret arm of the Vatican to kick major demon butt in order to protect them. Fun stuff.

I also just got done reading a few books by Philippa Gregory. I read The Boleyn Inheritance and The Virgin's Lover. Out of order, I know, but that's all the library had. I didn't have time to read Queen's Fool, but Dori, I'm taking you up on that offer to read it. Bring it to church tomorrow, okay?

Yeah, as if you're reading this thing at 10:30 on a Saturday night. *ppfffttt* Oh, well. Bring it whenever you can. I can wait, I think.

I've got a couple of other mindless books to keep me occupied until then.

Dumbcast

Dear Comcast:

I'm not lying to you.

I'm not just trying to get you to leave me alone.

I'm not being rude, withholding information, or yankin' your chain. I'm not a weirdo, a freak, or socially inept.

WE TRULY, SERIOUSLY, ABSOLUTELY DON'T WATCH TV.

I haven't really watched TV (except the spare show I download off the internet) for about 8 years now. I don't know the plot lines in most shows, I've never even seen an episode of Desperate Housewives or the Gilmore Girls. Ever.

I don't need cable TV. I don't want a package deal that would give it to me and increase my bill. I won't watch it. And if I do, I will get sucked in and my house will fall around my ears because I can't miss Oprah.

I know this, and I'm stronger for it.

Please stop calling me EVERY DAY.