When Someone You Love Has A Blog...

This is Part I of a 3-Part Series covering  "Living with a Blogger."

DISCLAIMER:  My husband had nothing to do in any way with the  *inspiration* for this post. 


Loving someone who has a blog can be challenging, even confusing at times. There are so many elements of the unknown and unfamiliar, and you may feel at a loss as to what is happening to the one you chose, years ago.

Here, I have prepared a basic guide of how to speak to and understand your blogger loved one. My hope is to help you interpret various states of mind and behaviors of a blogger, so that you may provide the blogger you love with the in-real-life support and assurance they need.

Remember, the person you love is still in there, and they'd love to share their world with you. Be patient, and understand that the blogosphere they enter is entirely real, and actually does make them happier and more productive in the end. Though, bloggers don't measure "productive" in quite the same way as the rest of the world does, i.e., get to starred posts in Google Reader, check TweetDeck for Mentions, commit to at least five #FF, submit to McSweeney's. Again.

• When your blogger asks, "how did you like my post today?" Do Not answer, "it was like an academy award speech, where they have to start the music up."  Not a good answer. Better answer? "I thought it was great."
• When your blogger begins to speak of  people with names like "Mumtothree" and "HouseofMouse," do not ask her why in the world would grown women give themselves nicknames like that, instead say, "hmm...tell me who they are again." So much better.
• Realize that your blogger's mood will become quite manic and hand wringingish if she has posted over an hour ago, and nary a comment has come in yet. Do NOT mention her agitation. Instead, be helpful and ask her if perhaps she has not hit the "allow comments" button under post options. This will make her feel better, and bless you for giving her hope. You're going straight up.
• If the bloggy gods smile upon her and decide to bless her with upwards of ten comments! within an hour of posting, realize that she will cackle in frenzied delight, and may not be able to tear herself away from the screen at this time. Gently, without startling her, maintain a watch on her. This is a dangerous state of mind to enter and the household may go without food while she is in this whipped frenzy. Well, maybe not without food, but at least frozen chicken nuggets from dad.
• If your blogger appears to be jumpy, nervous, and begins a new habit of chewing her thumbnails, gingerly prod for answers. This most likely is her first encounter with a "stalker." She will need to be held at this time, and be allowed to talk. Is there a warm baby she can hold? Coax any anxiety out of your loved one, and listen without wagging a finger in her face of how you told her that the internet world is a public world and she knew this when she got into this and now is not the time to act surprised when this type of thing happens when you let her know this possibility existed and of how....ahem, sorry - um, just be super nice to her at this time.
• If your blogger suddenly gasps and bursts into tears after checking comments and reading a comment there, DO NOT ask her to repeat what she has just read. Please. It just made her burst into tears. Your blogger has just been "trolled." This is a delicate situation. Instead, kindly and lovingly pick her crumpled form up off the floor, then show you care by reading the comment for yourself.  Immediately afterward, announce in a firm voice that the world is full of IDIOTS and stupid people who wouldn't recognize good writing if it hit them in the head with a 2x4. Ask her to visualize this happening. Then tell her you neglected to let her know that you thought that her post today was the most brilliant thing she's ever written. Tonight would be a good night to offer take out. 
• Do Not ask your blogger if she knows what her numbers are, how many new followers she has, what google analytics or sitemeter shows, and when she anticipates getting paid for the hours she puts in behind the keyboard. She is blogging for connection, not bucks. Realize this is her hobby, much like someone who spends time reading, or exercising, or any of the other things that normal people do.
• Lord help you - Lord Help YOU - if your blogger discovers an unrequited bloggy love commenting on another site. Clearly, the blogger she's been crushing on knows how to use the "post a comment" button. Gather the children, and get out of the house. Now.
• Do Not suggest that your blogger have T shirts made up of her site header for $5.00 each, and then sell them to her readers for $20.00 each and that "if she sells only five of them, then that's at least more money than she's made thus far from her blog. Which would be none."
• Her online friends are real to her. Do not call them "invisible" because you do not see them. THEY.ARE.REAL.

Above everything (and that means this is the most important thing): remember that your beloved blogger needs tender care and understanding, like a goldfish. She puts herself out there everyday for viewing, judging, transparency, and vulnerability.

Takes cajones to do that. So, show her the love.

NEXT WEEK: Part II:  "Danger Signs to Watch For,"  followed by Part III:   "Pulling Your Blogger Back From The Brink." 

Blogging. It can happen to the best of us. 

The Mom Renewal Project

Have you heard of The Mom Renewal Project? 

Let me ask you this, have you reached a "tipping point" in your day when you feel yourself unable to take on one more thing?
Have you had a day when you feel you are lost in the blur that your life has become?
Have you had a day where you have nothing left to give, and no more resources to draw upon left inside?


With days like these, we now can turn to The Mom Renewal Project to guide us back to where we want to be. The Mom Renewal Project is an exciting collaborative blog created by Stacey Weckstein. Stacey has created a site dedicated to finding balance and rejuvenation in our lives so we can move closer to the kind of life we envision for ourselves. A life where we are inspired, so that we then can inspire the world.

The Mom Renewal Project will offer vlogs and posts with the purpose in mind of helping all of us learn to reconnect, nourish, re-establish our inner core, and rejuvenate our lives to live as optimally as we can.

I was so very excited to open an email last week from Stacey inviting me to be part of the creative team that makes up The Mom Renewal Project.  Today, I write there, telling how I save my sanity for only $3.00 a week.

I hope you click over. You will find articles on nurturing yourself on all levels, written by women who are real, honest, and supportive. There will be linking up to find other women who are beginning to find the time for themselves again. You can find weekly self-renewal parties on twitter, and meet other women who have decided to share how they are going to make some time for themselves.

Through The Mom Renewal Project, Stacey, and all the contributors there, earnestly hope to remind all women to make the time to recharge, and reconnect, with your body, mind and spirit.

I hope to see you there, and thank you, Stacey, for providing The Mom Renewal Project to us all!

Please click over, and make this summer the summer you reclaim, rejuvenate, and re-balance your life. Get involved in your life again, the timing will never be better. And, tell me, what part of you needs you back again?

30 Days and 2 Years Probation

SETTING:  Driving around in the minivan, having to do errands with Baby E. Baby E has had it. This is our last stop with errands for the day.



Baby E:    Mom, will we be done with our errands soon? I wanna go home.

Mom:      Yes, Baby E, I just have one more stop to make, and I have to do it today.

Baby E:   Can't we just go home now?

Mom:      Baby E, this is super important, and your dad asked me to do it for him today.

Baby E:   Alright. Can I get a popsicle there? Is it a place that has popsicles?

Mom:      Yup. You can have one. OK, here we are, let's run in and hope they have what your dad needs.

Baby E:     What does he need?

Mom:        Just some legal envelopes.

Baby E:     Whaaaaa.....?????! Do all dads ask for those???!

Mom:       Well, not all dads, just the ones who use them.

Baby E:    Why does dad need to use those???!!

Mom:       Cuz those are the kinds he uses. Now, why are you getting so upset?..let's go....

Baby E:    Do other moms get this kind of stuff for the dads??!

Mom:       Sure, all the time. Let's run in now...
 
Baby E:    I can't believe dad would ask us to do that!!?

Mom:        Baby E, what is wrong??? Why are you crying?

Baby E:     I don't want to go in with you!!!

Mom:       What the heck is going on??? You know I can't leave you in the car....

Baby E:    Mom! just call him! please!........  maybe he'll let you get the legal ones!
 
Mom:      Oh, baby e, come here, honey...I said LEGAL envelopes, not ILLEGAL...come here, baby, now shhhhhh.... 

Lifetime Movie Network Originals Present: Celine!!!

A Lifetime Movie Network Original

The Empress, as played by Celine!!!

                                                                       

Stephanie, of DramaMama,  asked: "If there was a movie made of your life, what would be the movie, and who would play you and why?"

The answer is the 2008 Lifetime Original Movie, "Through the Eyes of the World: The Greatest Singer in the World: Celine Dion!!!" (..and you do need the 3 exclamation marks when speaking of Celine!!!)

Sad to say, as much as I'd like to ask for Sophia Loren to play my life, in "Nevus," the steamy story of a small Italian village's sultry temptress, I couldn't honestly give that answer (but I would really, REALLY like to...).

Nope. All evidence points to me having to be played by Celine Dion, and end that sentence complete with a rolling hands bow all the way down, forehead to knees.

I have been told more times than I can possibly recount, that I look EXACTLY like Celine Dion. And not as in, "wow, you are so beautiful, you look like Celine",  nor as in "oh, you are so tall, you look like Celine," but as in "wow...your face is so long, you look like Celine," and "your mouth and chin and lips are really weird, like Celine Dion."

The eery similarities continue. We begin with the uncanny facial resemblance to Celine,  and move on to me standing in front of any mirror, at age 12, the same age as Celine was, holding a hairbrush for a microphone, pretending I'm saying "maman! It's me...on the radio!"  ala Celine, and I commence to belt out a haunting, melancholy dirge.  I was forever holding diva concerts in the bathroom, the more heartwrenching the song, the better.

Celine's life and mine paralled each others throughout highschool, also. Like Celine, I was often "without the shoes and always losing the boyfriends."  The boys would tell me, as they told her, "but you are too skinny, and flat," but I, like her, knew I was beautiful. I, like her, "felt the beauty I had ...here...inside..." And we'd both beat our chests and stare out ferociously with that declaration. 

Like Celine, you can make me cry--like that! Snap! "And the tears...they come to my eyes."  Just to hear my son say, "maman! and I am in tears."  It is too hauntingly beautiful, the name...the name! of maman!

I end, with these undeniable identical occurrences in Celine's ,and my, life:

*Celine's husband paid for her braces, mine paid for my retainers

.

*Celine often publicly states that her life, her life, it is like a dream!! I often feel myself walking through my day in a foglike dream state, also.

*In the 80's, I had been known to wear my tuxedo dress backwards.

*My eggs are old enough to be in wheelchairs, too.

*I am really skinny.

* I want to be Canadian, please.

*Celine has hit the longest, highest note on record. My neighborhood hears me hit some pretty good ones here at home, when the windows are open for the summer.

*Celine has been known to burst into tears, at the thought of the happiness that surrounds her.  I, too, have been known to burst into tears when I look around and see what surrounds me at home.

And, finally, like Celine, my children will tell you that I am "here, there, wherEVERRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR they are...I, will be there with them, too................" seeing what they're up to, and what mess has to be swept up next, and finding out who is eating in their bedrooms....

Because, I am Celine Dion, the greatest mother! in the world!

Originally posted at Dramamama's on July 2, 2010. 

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LAST DAY TO VOTE FOR ME!! PLEASE CLICK HERE TO VOTE! (you need to scroll down to the bottom of the post there today) YOU CAN VOTE EVERY DAY, SO, GO ON...MAKE CELINE"S DAY!  THANK YOU!

Sweet Dreams Are Made of These....

...and what do you keep under your pillow?  This very find here today, that I came across between baby e's two pillows while I made up his bed, is why I will NEVER run out of something to blog about.

Ev-er.





Please remember to click here and vote for me! You can vote once a day until Friday!! Thank you!

What The Boys Would Be Like Without You, Or An Extremely Belated Happy Father's Day

Here you are, with our three boys, holding up the grass snake you found in the yard that day. You had first found the skin that he had shed along the bushes at the side of the house, and somehow you knew that there would be a snake not too far behind.

You called our boys over, they came running. Somehow, when it's me calling their names, it's not received with the same excitement and enthusiasm. You didn't say a word, you just waited for them. I would have been shouting, "come here! a snake! look -- what do you think, what kind is it? how long do you think it is? do you think there's more? will he eat mice? we should go inside and google what kind, I wonder where he lives, you think it's poisonous? what if he bites!"

Somehow, you knew to say nothing but their names.

When they come to your side, you hold up the snake, they are doubley -- no, tripley -- pleased with the visual and unexpected surprise. I would have spoiled it with words.

I run over, too, to hear what all the shouts of  "me! can I hold it? I want to hold it!" are about.

A common garden snake, but you turned it into a day where they peered into their future, and -- in an instant, saw what they could be like one day. To see what being a father can mean and gave them a role to aspire to.

I can't do that.

If they were with just me, their conversations would include words like, "adorable, sweet, cute as can be."

If they were with just me, they would have heard me scream at the first uncoiling of that snake in the bushes, and they would have had to come to my rescue.

If they were with just me, you wouldn't see the joy that their smiles can barely contain in the picture above, while they feel what it is like to be a boy, who has a father.

If they were with just me, they would secretly pray at night for a father; just like I did, just like my two brothers did.

Happy Extremely Belated Publicly Declared Father's Day To You ...

With love,

from your kingdom

**My father passed away suddenly when I was in the first grade. My brother was seven, my other brother two. I spent my entire childhood wishing for a father. In my days of dating, I would not become serious with anyone who wasn't father material.  And I was waiting for the best. The wait was indeed long, and the process disheartening. I met my husband when I was 33 years old, and I remember knowing, "this man would make a good father." I only wish my two brothers had had a father who would call out their names to show them a snake he had found in their garden.

The Adventures Of CrabBoy vs The Fun Neutralizer, Mommius Bossius Maximus

Monday in the summertime, you don't think I'd give Baby E any time off, do you? Life is work, he might as well learn that now.  He'll tell you all about his suffering life, here:

Hi. It's me, Baby E. This is a picture of me and my older brother. We were supposed to be folding laundry, but decided to play Underwear Head instead, which is a really fun game. My mom took a picture of us first, then she took our underwear.

Basically, what I want to say today is this:

I am not in charge of my life at all. I have to do family bike rides when I don't want to. Like, basically, everything I've done is because I HAVE to. You know what I find weird? That I have to do it. My mom says it's good for all us. What I find dumb is that how can something be good if you're an old lady like my mom, and if you're young, like me.

I'm very crabby today:
My mom makes me wear what she says I have to. Today, I had the worst shorts in the world on because they're incredibly uncomfortable. What makes them uncomfortable is that they're very tight. Well, they don't look tight, but they feel tight. I had a T shirt on that she made me wear to summer school that felt so supertight I told her I couldn't breathe. She said it was my size and it didn't look tight. Some clothes don't look tight, but they feel like it.

My all-purpose pajamas-slash-clothes:
Sometimes, I just want to wear my pajamas for clothes. So when my mom or dad sends me upstairs to get dressed, I just leave on my pajamas-slash-clothes and come back downstairs again, and they look at me. I tell them they ARE my clothes. They say, "they sure look like your pajamas." I tell them I know they do, but they're not.

It doesn't work on them.

I love TomandJerry cartoons, but have to tell Tom something:
In TomandJerry, I have to tell you they are my favorite DVD to watch. I always get one for a present. Tom is the cat, and Jerry is the mouse. Tom could eat Jerry anytime he wanted to if he just ate him as soon as he caught him. Seriously, it's like he catches him, and then he goes and gets the salt ready, and pulls the butter out, and gets some bread, and ties a napkin around his neck, then he goes and gets silverware, like a knife and a plate like he's a person, even though he's a cat. And guess what, while Tom is doing all that, guess who gets away? Jerry. It happens every episode.

He should just eat him. When he catches him.

That's all. Today I start Vacation Bible School. And then I have swimming lessons. See what I mean. Do you think she asked me if I wanted to do this stuff in the summer? Nope. See what I mean.

Bye.


NEWS ALERT: I just found out my post on "NOT Mommy of The Year" is up as a finalist for that trophy. Please do me a favor and vote for this one by clicking here, I'd love to have it on the castle's mantle. THANK YOU!

Your Mother

Do you know Alabaster Cow? And how about Mommypants? They are two talented and gifted writers who have co-founded The Red Dress Club, a virtual writer's group. Every Friday, they will be hosting a "flex your writing muscles" workshop. Today, their writing prompt is "to create a short fiction piece starting with these two words "your  mother."  Here  is mine:


"Your mother, oh, your mother....she is not well. She is not like other mothers. You must take care of her. Promise me you'll take care of her."

I opened my mouth and inhaled deeply, knowing I needed to stop myself from saying the words I truly wanted to say. Words that came rushing to my mouth, and that would have been directed at the wrong person.  My grandmother was dying. The moment I had both feared and prayed for, was here. I had long wished to be at her side when she left me, and not be told with a phone call. How strange it felt to be here, in the hospital with her at this moment, with my heart's desire.

I held her soft, soft hands, staring at them, while memories filled my mind as quickly as the tears that were now spilling out of my eyes. I thought about these hands, and how many times they had gently pulled a comb through my hair, while she softly sang her songs to me. She repeated her plea, "Will you? Will you, please?" Reading my thoughts, she said, "it has to be you. No one else will. You are the patient one. Always you, the one with patience."

She could feel the fatigue and heaviness about my past in my silence. "I know, she has not been good to you. She can't be, she doesn't know how to be. Without me, she will be alone. You must promise me."

I tried to focus on my grandmother's face, the one who raised me. I could see the shape of the face that I had seen through my whole life. I could make out the features that have always been there. Not even the blurred cloudiness of the tears in my eyes could remove the image in front of me. There was the faint sound of the EKG monitor beeping, such a slow beep, that it was hard to believe it was truly on. The neon green heart beats that had been jumping upward on the screen had slowed to a blinking number 24. 24 beats per minute, her heart was slowing down to nothing for me to see.

I took a moment and steadied my voice, knowing that if I spoke too soon, she would hear nothing but a hoarse, breaking attempt.  "Abuelita," I said, feeling the richness of still having her here to say these words to. "Abuelita, I love you, I love you so very much. If you need me to do this, for you to go, then I will. I will do it."

She let out a soft sound that could have been a sigh of relief. I cannot remember, it may have been her last breath, also. At the same time of her deep exhalation, the green blip on the screen that had been measuring her heartbeats, stopped. I blinked and stared, grabbing the bedrail, as if that act would help me to understand the reality of what the machine was forcing me to accept.

I felt myself wanting to shout her name, and grab her by the shoulders and shake her telling her she had to stay with me. I barely recognized myself in the force of those feelings. She was all I have ever had in my life. She couldn't leave me. One of the hardest things in that moment was to stop myself from those actions that I wanted to do more than anything.

Instead, I stood at her beside, numb with awe in realizing that I had received the only gift that I had sincerely prayed for since I was a little girl, to be here, with her, at the time of her death. Yes, I had prayed to be with her at this time, but never had I dared to believe that I'd be blessed with my prayer answered.

I squeezed my eyes shut, in the deepest prayer of thanks that my soul has ever sent. It was in this moment of humbling realization of the miracle that had just been given to me, that I found the ability to do what had to be done next.

I walked over to the phone, and dialed the number for her Doctor. I told him the time of her deep sigh, according to what the military time clock on the hospital wall above the bed showed.  I didn't call the nurses, they didn't need to come yet. I stood next to her bed, and stared hard at the face that I was so afraid I would forget. Time has a way of fading your memory, even from the things that you think you are unforgettable. 

I was counting on this to be on my side. Maybe time would help me forget the things that needed to be forgotten, so I could keep my promise to my grandmother.  I reached for the phone, and began to push the buttons that would connect me to my mother.

She would need help with arranging my grandmother's funeral.

A Mommy Of The Year Responds To A Not Mommy Of The Year

I've received an email from Ima Perfect-Mom,  and reviewing it with my bud, KludgyMom, we've collaborated on this tongue-in-cheek response. Ima questions me, on how I, and others, can boast on being anything less than perfect for our children. How can we? Well, because there is a group of moms known as "real moms." You are either able to relate and laugh at being less than perfect, or not. And that's what makes the world interesting, we are all so different.

Can't we all just get along? And accept that others may parent differently than you do? Please be kind, and welcome:

Guest Post by Ima Perfect-Mom

I am emailing you to tell you that I am shocked that you, and others, are eagerly vying for the title and trophy to "NOT Mommy Of The Year." Why are you joining in on this nonsense? And expecting to win a title for it? Are your children old enough to know that is your goal? I, for one, would never brag of my poor mothering skills. I would never display like a peacock and his feathers, all my shortcomings in the role of motherhood. A child's upbringing is not to be taken lightly.

Are your children old enough to realize they are receiving less than perfect mothering? And know that you are proud of it?

Mothering is the highest calling in my life. Not just in my life, but to many of the fine women I know who are diligently offering their lives in sacrifice to their children. Our homes are stress free, clutter free, and appealing to anyone that may drop over.

Our meals are planned with care and attention, and never "from the hip." We are always presentable, and are often horrified when we see you at the store in what appears to be your husband's T shirts.

Is this how you want your children to see you in their memory?

For me, and others like me, we don't understand you. We don't understand how you don't have perfectly planned meals, or how your children sometimes appear in public with ketchup stained T shirts, or how it appears that you've missed not one, but several, haircut appointments. And is that this morning's newspaper's rubber band in your hair? How is it that you are not able to keep up with your laundry? What is it that you do with your time?

We don't understand you.

We don't understand why you would want to publicly acknowledge that your children have "meals" of Ritz Crackers and a cup of milk, that an unexpected visitor would encounter breakfast dishes in the sink. How is this possible? And do you really park your children in front of a DVD so you can get dinner ready?

Realize, please, that perfect parenting takes all of your time and effort and attention and nothing less. Realize that and do change whatever it is that is keeping you from this. I give all of myself to my children, why won't you do the same? As I said, I am not able to understand you.

You need to parent as I do, and live as I do. It is the right way. There is no other way. And I am begging you to change. For your children. Now, please, reconsider how you are spending your time, and reprioritize what is important to you. With practice, you and the other women in this competition, will come to realize there is only one right way to be. Like Me.

Again, I ask you, why would you brag of a poor mothering moment? And then hope to win a title for it?

With sympathy for your families, Ima Perfect-Mom

Both this post and the NOT Mommy Of The Year Post are meant in fun. Let's just be nice to each other, and realize we can learn something from BOTH sides of the mothering spectrum. We all love our kids to the moon and back, and want them to be happy. But it's also nice to know, that there are others like us, who fall short of the Perfect Mother. I know that's what saves my sanity. I am not Mommy of The Year.

Royally Flanked

....and no small wonder as to why he sleeps the sleep of kings.

All is well tended to, by the royal older brother guards, at the ready to serve and protect their royal charge. A duty that is taken quite seriously in this castle, to protect the baby emperor come what may.

Were they prepared for this task on a dark Halloween night? The answer was a firm, unwavering, "Yes, my queen. We shall guard the boy."

"Very well then, be safe, my children. And hold your little brother's hand. I love you."

What Is Cool About Summer Vacations by Baby E

MONDAY: and Baby E posts it:

Well, we're back from vacation and I told my mom the first thing I would do when we got home is run around my house. I'm going to go do that again. I did it already when we got home, but I'm doing it again now. Wait for me...I'm back...do you feel my heart, mom? How fast did it go?

That was a L.O.N.G. plane ride. LOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG. With a capitol L. We went to visit my gramma and grampa in California. They live in a place called LaJolla. And the crazy thing is that it was cold there. EVERY DAY.

I saw my cousins. They are cool. They are grown-upish teenagers. I like to be with teenagers. My favorite thing to do was to go in the clubhouse and play games. I learned a lot of new games that my mom just shook her head about and my dad said, "he's havin' fun."

GAMES I LEARNED:
I learned my new favorite game from my cousins. It's called poker. And it is fun. Everyone said I'm a natural at it. I made everyone go bankrupt. It is easy to learn. And you play with chips that are money. And it is fun to throw the chips on this funny shaped table and pretend like you're in a movie. I got to have soda, too. I don't get soda at home.

I had sheer awesome winningness power. All the time.

I liked it when I was the dealer. The best way to play is to bet small when you get low on money. I like the sound the chips make when you throw them across the table.

MY OTHER NEW GAME I LEARNED:
I learned pool. That was fun, too. My teenager cousins taught me that, too. I never played this before, either. It is a long table and it is so fun to listen to the balls drop in the holes. I like the sound the balls make when they hit each other. I wasn't so good at it at all. But it was still cool to do.

WHAT I LOVED ABOUT LEGOLAND:
Legoland is ultracool. I love the giftshop there. I bought a game that isn't in stores yet.

WHAT I LOVED ABOUT THE SAN DIEGO ZOO:
The zoo has cool animals we don't have here. Like a water cat that likes to swim in water. I love the giftshop there. I bought a stuffed animal I don't have at home.

WHAT I LOVED ABOUT THE BIRCH AQUARIUM:
I loved the cool feeding time in the big tank. I love the giftshop there. I got a glow in the dark angler fish T- shirt.

WHAT I LOVED ABOUT BALBOA PARK:
This place is so cool. It is all old buildings left over from when the World's Fair was in San Diego and now the buildings are all different museums. We went to the Fleet Kid's Interactive Science Museum and the giftshop there is the hardest to pick out something out from.The.Hardest.

I got a spider that you build and it crawls up walls there. I love the giftshop there the most.

I spent the whole day there because it was all "hands on." That's what you call it when you can touch stuff and play it. The signs said "hands on" but for some kids it should've said "hands off" because they'd come in and just run in and knock everything down then run out into another room. They reminded me of locusts, I told my mom.

I spent one hour! there building a tower that was 2 times taller than me that I had to stand on a bench and reach the top of it-- it was that tall.

Like when I stand on a park bench and STILL I'm not as tall as my grampa.

What is neat about vacations is going places and we all do stuff together and my dad isn't at work.

We still have to go to Door County to see my other cousins and then Wisconsin Dells that has the best giftshops ever because every single step you take is a giftshop!

Oh! The picture of me and my dad is at the top and it is me and my dad playing giant chess that was so much fun. This chess set you had to pick up the pieces with both hands and that made it fun. This was in downtown LaJolla and the store it is in front of had the neatest books that I didn't know I liked and we bought and I read on the airplane. It is the Stinky books. And there was a toy store, too, and me and my brother got paper robot kits to build robots with.

And I really love summer vacations.

OH! And when we were at a place called Torrey Pines there was an earthquake! The park guy said it was a 3 and lasted 15 seconds.

OH! AND A MONKEY PEED ON US AT THE ZOO!!!! My mom said they should at least have a warning sign, and if they won't do words then at least a picture of a monkey with yellow drops coming out on top of people.

Bye.

mum mum mum mah Muffintop....

Warning: you WILL spend your entire morning here, playing this over and over and over and OVER....

Happy Canada Day, my lovely Canadian bloggers! It's no secret I crush on Canadian bloggers, one in particular: TheMayor@CrazyTown. She has decreed Friday Funny link up a day earlier, so she can celebrate all things Canadian, and do what they do there on their special day, eh!

So, for the mayor, a day early: Friday Funny Link up with The Mayor on Thursday, showcasing this Lady Gaga goes suburban parody.

Lisa, of Smacksy, (I'm a daily reader there) runs a weekly feature called Smacksy Sunday Link, where I have been shown the neatest, coolest, most unique websites. How she finds them? Well, Lisa is a very cool mother of even cooler Bob. She steered me over to her in-real-life friend's place, Marija of mymomsanerd.blogspot.com (see blogroll, fantastic blog) where I found this genius video. The lyrics are hers, and are on her site, this video is all her brainchild. She is an incredibly talented woman.

A caution, though: You will not be able to get the song out of your head...."mummummumma mah Muffintop...I ain't bluffin'...with mah muffin....mah muffintop. I wanna button 'em like I did in old days..."

ENJOY. And Happy Canada Day to my favorite Canadians. I will try to be more like you, I know we're kinda tense down here....