Tales of Me and the Husband

miss sparkle giveaway.

a giveaway!

when a reader recently e-mailed me asking if i could host a giveaway on their behalf i thought “whoa. what’s next?”  i’ll tell you what’s next… i’m going to buy “oh the places you’ll go!” by dr. seuss for my little blog and read it to her every night.
anyway, enough about that.  do you see the lovely prints above and stationary below?  something involving one or both might make its way from new zealand to your home.
that is, if you’re lucky.
here’s how to win a miss sparkle giveaway:
              in SEPERATE COMMENTS…
1) visit miss sparkle home page and comment which print is your favorite.
2) become a follower and comment that you have done so.
3) become a follower at miss sparkle’s blog and comment that you have done so.
as you see, you can leave up to 3 comments thereby increasing your chances to win.  nuff said.
you have till friday evening 10 pm on the dot.  don’t tarry.
(i won this giveaway a while back.  it was a good one.)

a quarrel, if you will, between husband and wife

those whom i speak of in this blog post

easily grossed out?  skip this one.

the other night gracie did something really gross
involving unflushed poo in the toilet…not her own poo
(we haven’t trained her to go to the bathroom in the toilet
yet)
and yes, there is someone in this house, and it isn’t me
who sometimes forgets to flush
kids can be gross
so, now you can widdle it down to one of four
but i won’t tell you which
(might be lindsey)
anyway, as i was saying…
i was cleaning just a tad bit of you-know-what up off the bathroom floor
(considered being like mommy dearest and waking lindsey to yell
‘no more wire hangers unflushed toilets!’)
and then i went in to get ready for bed.
gracie was laying on the floor of our bedroom
some bowel movement lurching around in her stomach
i was brushing my teeth and over the white noise of running water
i heard steve talking
…to me?  couldn’t be sure.
me: “are you talking to me?  i can’t hear you.”
him: “no, i’m yelling at gracie.”
me: “she’s a dog.  she doesn’t get that you’re yelling at her about that.”
him: “i’m not yelling at her about that.  i’m telling her to lay down and go to sleep.”
me: “oh.”
him: “you’re always giving me instruction.”
me: “you know, you shouldn’t use ‘always’ and ‘never’ in fights.  you always do that.”

him: “well, isn’t this ironic.”

he won that one.

i’ve got a date with these ladies this weekend.

sisters + mom =
FUN 
let the third annual girls’ weekend begin!
(steve, if you’re reading, though why would you since you usually 
wait for my reminder to check the current blog post, 
i will miss you and i love you very much.  
love, your adoring wife)

love this song.

i went through a major john mayer phase 
late high school/early college with his first two cds, 
room for square and heavier things, 
and then he sort of lost me with continuum 
and since then i haven’t bought one of his cds.  

i went to one of his concerts too… 
where he tries to eat the microphone.
well, i love this song.  
still haven’t bought the cd 
but the song safely resides in my itunes playlist on repeat.

the video is pretty cool too.

Top o’ the mornin to ya, laddie.

Today is Saint Patrick’s Day–a day in which my largest percentage of ancestry is given a free-pass to eat Irish potatoes, drink green beer, and say things like, “Kiss me, I’m Irish!.”  I’m about 50% Irish, so I’ll eat half a potato, drink half a glass of green beer, and just say, “Kiss me.”

William was asking if he was Irish this morning.  I said I didn’t think so.  He said,
“Well, are you?”
“Yes, yes I am.”
“Well, then I am too.”
“No, William.  It doesn’t quite work like that.”
“What do you mean?”
“My genes weren’t passed to you.”
“That’s stupid.”

Though William, when it comes to your good looks, I will take credit, if that’s alright.

If you haven’t seen Waking Ned Devine, it’s a perfectly delightful movie to watch on St. Patrick’s Day.
Also, my Dad is so obsessed with his Irish heritage that sometimes my sister Kate and I will just shout out Irish phrases with an Irish accent just to make ourselves laugh.  He rolls his eyes but he laughs on the inside.  It’s kind of like an Irish Tourettes Syndrome (I had to use Wikipedia to look up how to spell Tourettes), also known as ITS.  We will exclaim, “Erin go bragh!  Shamrocks!  Motherland!  Luck o’ the Irish!  Blarney stone!  Laddie!  Green!”  (Yes, when we’re really desperate, green is suitable).
It’s quite fun.

who needs california now?

suck it ahnika.  look what we gettin’.

this.

no, it’s not going to be within walking distance… and yeah, i might eat it while snow falls, but still.

(just so you all know, ahnika attempts to get us to move to santa barbara.  it is a distant dream.  and to tempt, she will regularly update me with santa barbara’s gorgeous weather (complete with text message pictures of her thermometer) on massachusetts’ dreariest days.  ain’t she sweet?)

but like i said, who needs california now?

Get to your nearest Target, pronto.

The Liberty of London stuff has arrived at Target.  I saw one commercial for it–the colorful flowers swirled and twirled all over my TV screen beckoning me–and I knew I’d have to check it out during my once a month (or twice??  Who’s to say, who’s to say?) Target trip complete with the consumption of one while-browsing-personal-pan pizza-and-maybe-small-Coke-Icee-to-top-it-off.

Well, check it out I did.  And it is just as lovely as the commercials promised.

Some purchases were made.  Nothing for me though!  I feel proud saying that.  But, something for the house, hubby, and the littlest girl.  And people, here they are.

You done me real good, Target.  You done me real good (said in the voice of donkey from Shrek).
Then, it took me over an hour to get home.  Mind you Target is 15-20 minutes away.  From all the rain, roads are actually submerged and/or washed out.  Detour after detour after detour I finally made it home. In the words of Becca, stupid.
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