I'm in Denial

I know some of you out there who live in reality will scoff. And laugh. And call me crazy.

But, that's ok. It's all been said before.

Just 3 more weeks, and the final show will air.

My TV family is going away forever, and I can't be comforted.

Mr. "I-Get-Better-Lookin-Every-Day-George-Clooney" even stopped in last night for a bit. Lord, help me.

As I told my sis-in-law,

"That is one handsome man. Gray hair and all, honey."

Fifteen years and 648,957,248 episodes have come and gone. And now it's almost time to say good-bye.

I have started compiling the 34 boxes of Kleenex I'll use on that final Thursday night.

I can't help but wonder how it will all end. ER has sorta done everything as far as "shockers" go... falling helicopters, floods, bio-terrorism, rabid animals (?), and even helicopters chopping off limbs. People limbs. Gosh, I'm gonna miss that.

My sarcastic husband and the equally sarcastic boy feel the need to bombard me with their (stupid) predictions for the last episode.

"A bomb will blow up the whole hospital... and kill everyone."

"The entire hospital is gonna burn to the ground... and kill everyone."

"It will have all been someone's dream... and kill everyone." (I think they stole that one.)

What kind of made-up TV drama do they think I watch?

I need a CBC and a central line... STAT.

What Time is It?

Dear Mr. Daylight Savings Time,

I am not a fan of you. Let's just get that out there first.

Oh... You will be a little more bearable in a few months. When school is out. When the kids are running around barefooted. When my own foot wardrobe consists of nothing but the flops that flip. When the playground is packed until 8:00 at night. When the IceCream Man plays his happy little sugar-song. When my sad old body has had a while to adjust.

But, until then... You are not my friend.

Love,
Me

There's just something wrong with having to reset EVERY clock in the house (and in the car). That "loss" of one hour does mess with the mind.

I am tired. And, I am apparently apathetic because this place we call home is a WRECK.

I must also be delusional because I keep asking my cats to clean my house for me.

They just look at me.



And yawn.



If anyone knows how to "get over" this lull of Daylight Savings Time, please let me know.
I am also open to suggestions on "How to Teach Your Cats to Clean Your House While You Nap."

No Swatting Allowed

I almost forgot to put up our pictures from the museum. Two weekends ago, we went to the Natural Science Museum in Raleigh. GREAT museum, if you ever get the chance to go.

It was a bit of a "spontaneous" trip. (For those of you who know me and my strange ways, you know I do not do "spontaneous" very well.) (For those of you who do not know me and my strange ways, I do not do "spontaneous" very well... it stresses me out.)

BUT, it was a fun little escape for the day.

I really think it was good for Dan to get away. He's been working like a crazy man lately, and we haven't seen him much. For some reason, the Army gives you LOADS of work to do in preparation for the nice "trips" they send you on. So much work, in fact, that he's gone all the time, and it seems like the "trip" has already started.

Maybe they think it's good practice.

So without further complaining, here is the museum!

First stop... was lunch. At a cute little cafe downtown. Can't take this family into a public place without feeding us first. It ain't pretty.







Giant dinosaurs, giant bugs, giant flying dinosaurs, and more dinosaurs!









Not everything in this place is dead!







One of the COOLEST things ever! The Butterfly Conservatory.





(Personally, my favorite moment of the day was when the "Butterfly Conservatory Lady-in-Charge" told us the only "rule" for going into the butterfly atrium was... "Don't swat the butterflies." Who swats a butterfly?)



And, the "Collections" Room... where you can actually go in and touch stuff! Dead stuffed stuff! (The boy's favorite part.)






I confess. I had to touch stuff in here, too. I will NOT swat a butterfly, but I can't resist poking a dead bird.

Happy Birthday Daddy!

Today is the birthday of one of the best dads I know!! Mine!! Yep, and I still call him "Daddy."

My parents were able to come and visit us this past weekend... to see their grandson play basketball. Oh yeah... to see me and Dan, too.

We had a great weekend despite the freezing temperatures and POURING rain.

We even had a little early birthday celebration on Friday night.

Just look at that look of love and admiration on the boy's face...


For the cake.

Eternal Delay

Well.

No snow for us.

All around us... folks got snow. LOADS of it.

I talked to my mom this morning and they have maybe 6 inches. And no power. (Yuckie. I hate no power.)

But... no snow for us.

I tried to tell a very sad boy this morning that he had his "Snow Days" a few weeks ago. That he had 7 inches of snow and other people didn't. That he should be glad for the dusting of snow and ice we DID get... because the "people that decide things" delayed classes for two hours.

His response?

"Well. I guess two hours is better than nothin' at all." (Sad face and sigh.)

Me? Personally, I made a discovery about myself this morning. I could LIVE every day on a two-hour delay. I've always known that I wasn't a morning person. But this is different. I could just slump around in my baggy old PJ's until about 10:00 every morning. There was no rushing. No last minute grabbing of stuff. It was calm and quiet, and I even watched a little Spongebob. Good times.

Truthfully... I know if every day started at 10:00 am, I would eventually get into a "rut" again. I'd be running around grabbing stuff. We'd be rushing out the door at 10:00 just like we do at 8:00. The calm and quiet would disappear. I'd be in my same mode... just two hours later than I am now.

But it's fun to dream.

My "Disclaimer"

OK. I got this definition from Dictionary.com...

Disclaimer: a statement, document, or assertion that disclaims
responsibility, affiliation, etc.; disavowal; denial.


I like that "disclaiming responsibility" part.

I am "not responsible" for my nasty attitude or the effect it may have on you.

I told a friend yesterday that I was grouchy. I had to confess (just a few hours earlier) to my husband and the boy that I was in a "bad mood."

So, I decided I needed a "disclaimer." You know, like on the outside of McDonald's 800 degree cup of coffee...

Caution: May contain hot coffee. May cause 3rd degree burns if it spills on you.

Or on the package of potato chips that you just paid $4.00 for...

Contents may have "settled" during shipment. That's why you have 6 chips.

Anyway, I realized that it might be beneficial to those around me if I had a "disclaimer" on me. Like a little (or big) sign that reads:

BE WARNED! I am grouchy today.

or

Caution: Moods may shift unexpectedly.

or

Wearer of this sign may bite your head off without reason.

or

Keep Away! Needs alone time.

or

Contents have "settled" with time and age. Please do not stare.

I can think of lots of times I need to wear my disclaimer signs. There are also plenty of times I wish the people around me had one on, too.

I know... I should really just adjust my attitude. Be more grateful and appreciative. Look for the good in every situation. Have joy and peace.
Maybe I'll wear the sign until I get all that worked out.

If a Picture is Worth 1000 Words, Then What am I Saying?

Cleaning out photo files.

That's what I was doing yesterday.

For too long.

I was cleaning out the picture files that live in my computer. They are a wreck and in need of some major organization. (That is a sickness I have... organizing.)

In my "organizing" frenzy, I came across these great pictures from Christmas. I guess I had forgotten about them because there's nothing "Christmas-y" about them. They made me smile, and then I looked closer. Then... I laughed. You'll see why. We just all happened to be outside goofing off, and I had my camera. Go me.

I'll start by saying that I adore my sis-in-law. My brother made the best choice in a wife, and I got the sister I never had. Love that girl. So.... I just wanted a picture of the two of us. That's when my husband stepped in. Literally.



Shoulda been content with this one, but no... "Take one more! Just in case."



Check out the subtle look on my face. "Is that my moron husband behind us?" "Why is he wrecking our picture?" Looks like I could just reach back there and pinch his tiny head off.


Now check out this not-so-subtle look. "I am gonna hurt him." "He's ruining our Kodak moment."


I wonder where our boy gets his love of having his picture made?