Trainers, Trenches and Tunics, Oh My!

The trenches. The tunic. SuperT is killing me with the cuteness level this spring.

I was also looking for some new trainers tonight, but didn't have any luck. Admittedly I only went to one store, but I'm just saying. I personally hate to buy trainers at sporting goods stores, because like, I'm not an athlete and all? Nordstrom stocks a pretty good selection, but they tend to be tamer colors. I have to have one crazy pair, like my pink Shox and a few others to rotate through the "uniform".

The "uniform" for those of you unfamiliar is black yogas/gauchos, a white cami/short or long sleeve Gap favorite tee and a hoodie. Any color. Red, pale pink, hot pink, orange (duh), apple green, teal, cream, royal blue, white, grey...I really need a yellow one. So you can see the need for trainers with various color accents, yes?? This "uniform" makes it's way on to my body everyday at some point.

And so it begins. Coach's season has started and he has officially checked out of the Casa de Chaos. I need a gentle reminder at the beginning of each season (this is our 11th!!! season together) that he really does love me, he's not ignoring me and no, nothing is wrong. He's just in baseball mode. He's a quiet one, so I'm sure my incessant droning on about (not) exciting things in my day wear his arse out. Perhaps I'll go downstairs and just sit quietly on the couch...fat stinking chance.

Clemsongirl Has Not Left the Building

Aye. What a week. I've not forgotten about you, I've actually been working a good bit this week and with the PC still out of commission (getting it Thursday) it's been a struggle to post. When Coach gets home after 8, he wants to spend the evening complimenting my fabulous dinner prep and rubbing my feet all night whilst we watch girl-y TV. Oh wait, I must have fallen asleep and dreamt that. In reality, I am just to tired to haul my cookies and laptop upstairs and think of something amusing. (He won't be pleased to read that I've told you he's watching "Crowned: The Mother of all Pagaents)...

So all of the Primaries are getting interesting, but I refuse to really blog about them. You're not reading this to get my political input, but I will say I am working on some great campaign slogans for all involved. Like "The Obama Drama" and "McCain's a Pain"...really heady stuff here. February 5th is the day for GA and I'll be sure to be out bright and early. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, Monica's ex-boyfriend's wife just can't be the Chief. I'll have to move to Canada.

Speaking of lumberjacks, I mean Canadians, Ryan was "drafted" to the Blue Jays for Little League. Coach has told me that this team is from Toronto, but assured me that the colors are great. Still waiting for Jack's draft, I'm sure you're all on tenterhooks. Seriously, they ought to just let the moms pick the teams based on carpools and everyone would be happier. Actually, if it was up to the moms we'd have retail sponsors like Starbucks and SuperTarget. Seriously, just picture a little uniform with the bullseye logo. Too cute. Instead, let's pretend that they actually know how to play and that it really does cost $84,000 to play 6 year old sports. Someone's making a buck here, and it is not Clemsongirl. Maybe I am in the wrong industry. Ya think?!

BTW, have you been to SuperT lately and if so can we discuss the multitude of darling spring clothes!? The pink 3/4 sleeve sweater and the green and cream patterned trench? Will. Be. Mine. The blue Mizrahi dress? Too cute for words. Also, will be mine. Furthermore, the red and yellow patent bags? Holy cute purses Batman. Pics to follow.

Off to get a foot rub.

Illusions of Grandeur...or a Cuter Outfit

Sunday, 1:37 pm. Empty house. Ahhhh. The sound of nothing but the dishwasher running and my ice clinking in my glass...of tea of course. Jim Beam is only invited when it's warm. Or lonely. Or, well, he's not here yet. Coach has taken the minis to the University to hit balls and run around on the field, not my idea of a good time, what with me being all indoors-y and all. The best part? He showers them in the locker room so they'll come home clean and jammied. I only had to pack a bag of clothes and clean shoes for them. Amen to that. If only I could get the trainer to wash their clothes...hmmm, something to think about. I am between clients today, had one this morning and another at 3. If I blogged about work or the people I encounter while showing proprties, I would be inclined to mention that not all flight attendants are smart, sexy and capable like Miss CoCo. But, since I'd never do that, just note that some flight attendants are chain smoking messes who might NOT know what to do in an emergency. In fact, they might actually cause the emergency to occur. I'm just saying. Note your nearest exit door, this chick isn't gonna point it out for you.


This weekend was weird. Friday night I was so itching to get out of the house after the children went to bed and Coach was watching 3:10 to Yuma or some such boy movie. I drove to Starbucks (duh) and ordered my chai. It was terrrrrrible. Seriously, the baristas in there that night we doing nothing but chatting with some mediumish cute customers and therefore my drink was wanky. What-ever. Decided against going anywhere else at 9pm and headed home for a bath and fell asleep. Loser.

Saturday, blah blah Lowe's, blah blah birthday party. Who cares? Nothing fun to read about. I did actually repeat the hair cycle yesterday morning, out of pure stupidity. I got confused because the little buggers woke me up so early and I performed an unnecessary hair washing/drying/straightening/velcro rolling. Damn minis. I told Jack this morning if he woke me up again I'd take all the money out of his Mickey Mouse wallet. Dr. Phil approved parenting; find the leverage and go for it.

I also fully intend on "faking" my outfit this afternoon. The property I am showing has been winterized and the heat is off thus it is about 30 degrees inside. Plus, there's the whole "leaving the front door wide open" incase the buyer is really a murderer thing, so it's extra chilly. Safer? Absolutely. I'll be sporting black pants, black heels some random long sleeve Gap favorite tee or 2. Don't worry, you won't see any of it, the black wool pea coat and aqua scarf (thanks Gram) will be the camouflage. I made the mistake this morning of wasting a perfectly cute chocolate wrap dress and boots and no one even got a glimpse of it. I think that means I can wear it again Monday, but I'll have to check Amy Vanderbilt on that one. Plus, my hair was down and all caught up in the hood of the peacoat. Completely disastrous. A ponytail is in my immediate future.

Speaking of my hair, we are once again approaching Coal Miner's Daughter status. Really? It got caught in my bra band this morning it's so long. I need a cut so badly even Coach mentioned it. OK, he didn't so much as mention it as tell me he saw a split end. (which he referred to as a "white end thing") Which I fully deny. Forever. One of his many ex-girlfriends was a stylist and he thinks he is all knowing. Good thing he married a girl with such a tremendous mane, otherwise I'd be spending all my free time at the salon instead of reading magazines while attending his games. Did I type that? I'd never (always) read a magazine while his team was playing. Or knit a baby hat, or talk on the phone, or take a nap or...um, not go? Sorry dude, a leopard does not change her spots. Get me back to Clemson and I'll be at every single game in my orange with a Tiger Paw stenciled on my cheek. Admittedly, I'll still be reading a book, but I'll be there. (And I actually mean my facial cheeks, not my tush or some tramp stamp. I'm just saying.)

Off to create the smoke/mirrors/lip gloss illusion of this afternoon's showing. Miss me while I am gone.

Feeling like I might be back. At least on my way back. Lucky for you.

Today after ANOTHER 1/2 day Stella convinced me to go with her to a place I try to never go. It's against all of my values. It's wrong, it's dirty and it's not anywhere a good Mommy takes her children. McDonald's Playplace. Dee-sgusting. Smells like feet and mildew-y bleach rags. No matter that our McD's is new, they all smell the same. I'm embarrassed to tell you that I even sat in one of the "pleather" club chairs and gossiped while the minis played. Sometimes you just have to go with it. Although there is something to be said for unlimited Diet Coke refills. And being the classiest and cleanest mommy in the room (black yogas, white Gap favorite tee, orange hoodie, orange and grey New Balance trainers, hair cycle day 1).

Tomorrow is the Lowe's children's deal in the morning, which is a great place to pick up hot dads. If you're in the market. Not that I've noticed, or even looked...I'm just saying.

Then we have a birthday party at one of my favorite GA girlfriends houses which I sold to her in November. It's a HUGE Martha Stewart fandago with 84,000 kitchen cabinets and a ginormous loft playroom makes me jealous. I swear the children can have a full on soccer game in there. Kind of like the Casa de Chaos on steroids.

More later, need to regroup a little.

Fast Forward Please

When exactly is this week going to be over? Seriously, it's so horrible/awesome that all of the crap happens at once. Bills, PMS (followed by General Krottendorfer), sick mini and re-run TV. Except for Big Shots, which I am loving. Something about those boys...2 of them anyway. Duncan so loves Lisbeth. Clemsongirl so loves Duncan. Anyhoo.

Kindergarten registration info came home today for the little mini, which makes me both thrilled and nauseous at the same time. There's no doubt he's ready, that child needs his own "thing" like I need my Starbucks. Not to mention the fact that he is sick of me. I just can't believe EITHER of my children are ready for school, and in the August I'll have a Kindergartner and a Second grader. WTF? How did that happen? I remember when I found out they were boys (after I lost it and almost keyed the ultrasound tech's car) that I panicked. I was sure I wouldn't like having "older" boys. What did one do with a 7 year old BOY? Ew. The idea just freaked me out. Now that's my reality and I can't imagine otherwise. Not that I don't dream of smocked dresses and Maryjane's. It's just navy polos and madras shorts at the Casa de Chaos.

So, how much does my writing el sucko this week? I've got serious writer's block and posting on the laptop means posting at 11pm, which clearly is not my best time to be amusing. But the PC will return soon, better than ever and so shall I.

In the meantime, pick up a copy of Innocent Traitor about Lady Jane Grey. It's great and it makes me glad to be Catholic. At least during the short reign of Queen Mary. Mmmm, a Bloody Mary sounds delish (you know that's named for her, yes?)...

On the Back Nine

...of this PMS, During MS little streak of crabbiness. Lucky for you. And Coach. Really lucky for him. He is about to give me a massage. He doesn't know it yet.

Jack got the stomach bug so I spent the afternoon and evening on the couch watching cartoons and rubbing his little back. He's staying home Thursday regardless of how he's feeling, so tomorrow will be more of the same. I sincerely hope Ryan doesn't get it as well, but since they do EVERYTHING together, it's not likely.

Don't think I'm not reading your blogs, I am. I have so little PC time since mine is still in disrepair, I don't have time to comment.

I'll be back soon. Promise. Pinky swear.

The Post Without a Title

It was horrendously cold and rainy here today, even my darling ski parka didn't keep my warm enough to not be crabby. Not that it's taking much to push me over the proverbial edge this week. Really, the yogurt was on the "wrong" shelf in the fridge and I cried. Gotta love hormones. (They are one of the many, many reasons Monica Lewinski's ex-boyfriend's wife should not be President.) I have a letter from former President Ronald Reagan that was sent in response to a letter I sent him telling him I wanted to be the first woman President. The letter says, "whether or not we elect a female President is a fundamental question left up to the American people to decide." A little confusing response for a 9 year old, but true even 20some years later.

Logging off Coach's laptop to watch Real Housewives. 'Cause that's how I roll.

Son of a Mother-Board

Well alrighty then. PC has lost it's motherboard to the tune of $250. Super. It is being "dealt with" at the repair shop. Coach's laptop is saving my sanity tonight at 9pm...

No school today due to the Dr's Birthday. The minis had a friend over whose mommy I adore and we sat around and drank tea and Tab and gossiped about nothing. I not surprisingly sported the navy track suit and one crazy curly ponytail. It was below average on the cute scale.

I've got to be honest with you. I've got nothing tonight. Just an overwhelming feeling of irritation and continued PMS. I'm seeing Tylenol PM in my future...wonder if we have anything stronger.

I Do...

Dearly Beloved Readers, we are gathered together here in the sign of Blogging – and in the face of this audience – to join together this episode of severe PMS and a Really Crappy Morning in holy matrimony, which is commended to be honorable among all; and therefore – is not by any – to be entered into unadvisedly or lightly – but reverently, discreetly, advisedly and solemnly, with tears and unrest.

Into this holy estate these two extremely volatile and irritating situations present now come to be joined. If any person can show just cause why they may not be joined together – let them speak now or forever hold their prozac.

Marriage is the union of PMS and Busted PC/Cancelled buyer appointements in frustration, migraine and inconvenience. It is intended for their mutual harrassment – and for the help and comfort given on another in prosperity and adversity. But more importantly – it is a means through which a unstable and screaming environment may be attained.Through marriage, Severe PMS and Really Crappy Morning join together to face their disappointments – embrace their dreams – realize their hopes – and accept each other’s failures.

Will you torment, overtax, cause sleepless nights and bloating, in sickness and in exhaustion, for poorer, for even poorer, to cherish and continually bestow upon him your heart’s deepest hate, forsaking all others, keep yourself only unto each other as long as you both shall have menstruation and estrogen.

These two lives are now joined in one unbroken circle. Wherever they go – may they always return to one another. PMS and a Really Crappy Morning, I thee wed.

***Clearly posted from Coach's office as the aforementioned PC is doing nothing but beeping at me when I turn it on. The good news is I'll be at the PC Repair shop when it opens, since my effing buyers rescheduled.***

Good Thing He "Invented" the Internet..

Evidently, the Casa de Chaos has been relocated to the set of Little House on the Prairie. I was playing Cinderella and cleaning the ashes (cinders?!) from the fireplace whilst Coach and the minis were in the yard gathering kindling for a fire. Um, isn't that what Lowe's is for? Whatever, they were entertained for a bit and I was able to mop the kitchen floor.

Coach thinks he's all Tyler Florence this morning. He made fried eggs, homemade fried potatoes, scrambled eggs, French Toast, toast with blackberry preserves, a bowl of cereal, bagels with cream cheese and cinnamon rolls. Hey dude? That's called being a short order cook aka a MOM. Nothing to be proud of, just being an indulgent parent. Although I did love my eggs...

We had a birthday party to go to this afternoon as well as "Skills Testing" for Little League which were both cancelled due to the snow. Yes, that's right, 2 days of snow in one week in Atlanta. Global Warming my arse. Everyone in the neighborhood is giddy with excitement and out playing in it. My family is annoyed and eye rolling at it. We set the bar awfully high in our house. Some sad little flakes aren't impressing us.

Also not impressing me? My four year old son's attitude. We're on a mission this 3 day weekend to whip him into behavioral shape. I'll keep you posted...

I Can't Get No Satisfaction

Today? Talk amongst yourselves

#1. We are out of Diet Whateversonsale (I am crabby and stabby with regard to this outage)

#2. Minis have no school for 3!! days (this is not a good thing, in the event that you are confused)

#3. We're expecting more "inclement" weather and snow (aka there's no milk at the SuperTarget)

#4. I saw a book today at the children's library called "Focus on Crack and Cocaine" (is that a suggestion?)

Edited to Add: Seriously, that book is for real. Here's the link for you non-believers.

No Snow Day

Why am I disappointed that today is not a snow day? It's not as thought I want to hang out with the minis all morning and hear them fussing at me. Plus, everyone was up and at 'em this morning at 7 so no sleeping in either way. Coach just left to drop off Ryan, I'll take Jack in a bit. I don't exactly have romantic visions of snow, I grew up in the Midwest, so it's just a PITA. Plus, everyone knows that the colder it is, the bitchier I am. Jack (4) insisted that he has no recollection of snow, although I vividly recall him standing in the driveway screaming for 2 hours when I shoveled at Last University. Seriously, EVERY time. As if I was enjoying the shoveling?

This morning I meeting a girlfriend at Barnes and Noble for some Starbucks and gossip. For those of you who resolved not to gossip in 08, how's that going for you? Pretty boring I'd guess. Hee hee. My daily interaction with "Socially Retarded Mom" at Ryan's school simply does not afford me the luxury of giving up the gossip. I would explode if I didn't at least mention the Kenny Chesney concert tee she wears 3 out of 5 days. Combo that with flip flops on ahem, un pedicured to say the least, feet and truly, it's a whole episode of What Not to Wear. FishyBusyness says; "You can get out of trouble. You can get out of debt. But there's no getting out of CRAZY." I concur. (Insert: solitary fist pump).

I'm off to a bubble bath this morning and then to slip into some super cozy clothes for my bookstore adventure.

BTW, Hello Darling? My name is not "Maggie". Green Magsterpie is Maggi and Clemsonlocal is "Maggie". My first name is the same as everyother girl born in 1975...Jennifer.

Itty Bitty, Inclement Weather and a Whore

Wednesday is shaping up nicely. Had jack shi-ot to do this morning during preschool, that's always a nice treat. Got my chai (duh) and came home and piddled around the house for a few minutes. A friend came by with her itty bitty and I snuggled with her for awhile. The baby, not my friend. I'm just saying. Ran by Lowe's and picked up a couple of plants (love me some free plants via coupon) and 2 bundles of firewood.

Picked up the minis and 2 friends from school and they are playing some weirdo boy game involving bad guys, building logs and a flashlight. What-ever. It's 30ish degrees and we're expecting "inclement weather" this afternoon and evening, thus the firewood.

I remember the first time we had a "snow day" at Clemson my Freshman year. Classes were cancelled so my first thought as a Chicago girl was, "Great day to drive to the mall and buy some clothes." You'd have thought I had suggested we all cut off our arms the way those Southern girlies looked at me. "Drive?! In this weather?! Bless your heart, that's just plain DANgerous." Um, what weather? It's 32 and slightly frozen. No snow sticking to the ground. I convinced another Yankee to go with me and we hightailed it to the Haywood Mall and picked up a darling Dooney purses from Belk and a few ribbed turtleneck sweaters from Gap. What? It was 1993. Ribbed turtleneck sweaters and wool blazers were super cute. I swear. With corduroys.

In any case, business appears to be picking up, I got about 5 sign calls today (when someone calls the # on a For Sale sign I get a text on my cell) which means buyers are out looking. Which is good, because I would NOT make a good barista and that was on my short list of fill in jobs. I mean, I'm at Starbucks anyway. Another option was prostitution and it seems like Coach MIGHT take issue with me whoring myself on the corner. Plus, how could you even pick your corner? Close to home would mean a short commute, but then it'd be johns that you knew. Which could be awkward in the carpool line. Not that I've been thinking that seriously about it. Just kidding Gram. And Mom. And Dad.

A Rah-Rah Meeting and Some Backstory

Had a rah-rah sales meeting today and then was treated to fish tacos at La Parilla. Delicious amounts of salsa verde, cilantro and lime. Wore my orange trench and heard this all damn morning; "Um. That is really orange. Not many people can wear that color. Wow." Well, great news for me! I CAN wear it. Get over yourselves. And BTW, Elle Woods was wrong, orange IS the new pink. Especially when you pair it with a black wrap dress and bright yellow beads. Obviously, hair cycle day 1. Duh.


Onto the back story...
Southern Fried Girl asked:

Question about the real estate thing - do you like it? How did you get into it?

Coach and I got married in 1998 and I was working FT in Human Resources/College Recruiting. When I was 7 months pregnant with our first, he signed a contract with a new University in another state. I went on disability, then maternity leave and eventually resigned from my job to stay at home FT.

We moved a couple more times and had another baby. In October 2005 we moved again. (are you tired yet? I am, 3 states in 9 months. Packed everything myself. Solo with the children while Coach was ahead at new University living in a hotel. El Sucko.) After about 6 months, I was considering getting a PT job. The minis were both in preschool 3 mornings a week and it seemed doable. So I was sitting on my screened in porch brainstorming about what I might want to do and updating my resume. The doorbell rang and my friend Friede Family Frenzy, a kick arse Realtor stopped by. She asked me what I was doing and then proceeded to tell me that she was looking for an licensed assistant and perhaps I'd be interested.

Here's what I knew. She was amazing at her job. She was a great mom. She could teach me. Plus, I felt like I had something not many Realtors had. I had bought/sold/moved 1 million times and the only thing I hadn't done was write the contracts. So, I figured I'd give it a go. I started working for her a few hours a week and was preparing to start my real estate classes. Coach called me one morning while I was grocery shopping and told me to put back the meat. We were moving. Again. (insert devastation, tears, generally losing my shit...another post for another day). Called my fab friend. Told her to come by the house, and bring a For Sale sign. Damn. Of course she sold our house in 2.3 seconds. Duh.

When we determined we were moving to Atlanta, I called an old friend who still lives here. I told her that we were coming back (remember I've lived in ATL before. After graduation and when Coach and I first were married) and that we were looking for a Realtor. She reminded me that bother her brother-in-law and her father-in-law were agents. Her FIL met with me during the 2 days I was here to buy a house (yep, 2 days. No Coach here. My mom was here for moral support. I cried the entire time.) and helped us buy the current Casa de Chaos. At some point during the process, he said something along the lines of, "If you'd get your GA license I have a job waiting for you." Serendipitous I suppose. And the rest is history.

Is that so much more than you wanted to know?

Is It Monday AGAIN?

Good God. It really is Monday. Had a grand puba meeting this morning for Ryan's school. Really and truly a teacher asked me if I baked the 2 bite apple cinnamon coffee cakes a la Archer Farms. I sure did say yes. Then Socially Retarded Mom tattled on me. What-ever.

The minis are playing in the backyard and I am going to lie down on the couch. How's that sound girlies?

Back in a little.

My Name is Clemsongirl and I Am Not a Trailer Park Parent

Were there 55 hours in this day?! No lie it felt like it, alternately delightful and horrendous.

Employed a total trailer park parenting tactic and promised Jack a dollar if he did not wake up his big brother this morning. It worked. (Black yogas. Yellow Turtle Beach Pub tee, grey zip front hoodie. Hair cycle day 2 with the bra strap headband dealie.) Hit Starbucks early this morning and am considering changing drinks. Can't commit to that yet, but you'll be the first to know. On a related note, the baristas no longer write "SuperMom" on my cup. Bastards. I don't actually think that is a result of me being a crappy mom, I've just been in there solo more lately. Amen to that.

Took Ryan to PSR (aka CCD aka Sunday school) and then Jack and I joined Coach at Waffle House for a super healthy breakfast. Notsomuch. Then we picked up Ryan (brought him an egg sandwich to go...) and headed home. The children played outside for hours and Coach and I installed an under the counter cd player/radio in the kitchen. My parents bought it for me for Christmas, something about needing more than 12 inches of counter space. Anyway, Coach is not really mechanically inclined. (Friggin' understatement of the year, boy can't change a light bulb. Truly. Breaks the glass part off of the metal part almost every time.) After bitching at me for not being able to find the tools he deemed necessary for said installation (heelll-oo?! Read. The. Labels.) and 84,000 hours later, the device is installed and functioning. Of course, we had to listen to some dinosaur cd that Jack insisted on as soon as we got it working. The life of a parent.

Loaded up several bikes, scooters, helmets, snacks and juice boxes in the minivan and dropped the minis and Coach off at the playground. Went grocery shopping and was thrilled to discover that it was triple coupon week. OMG. (Insert song: She was looking kind of dumb/With her finger and her thumb/In the shape of an "L" on her forehead) Loser. Big, big, Shox wearing Loser. At what point of my sad, sad life did coupons get filed under exciting? Did remember to pick them up on my way home. What? I wasn't going to unload those bags myself!

Loaded several boxes back into the attic from the consignment adventure while Coach took a nap and I supervised the children on the PC. Baths, meals, blah, blah, blah. 8:08 pm and the minis are out like lights and I am sadly realizing that it's not a good TV night.

Haven't updated the blogroll, keep them coming. I need some additional reading, as the market is slow and the weather is still chilly. Ok it's like 60 degrees, but I'm not really an outdoor-sy kind of (clemson)girl.

Updating the blogroll. Want to be on it? Comment with your address and I'll check you out!

Exercise in Fertility

A new consignment store is opening close to our house in GA and I asked (forced) Coach to swing by there so I could run in. Neither he nor I are convinced that we're done having children, and I am only 32. No need to make any decisions in that regard at this point.

That said, if we did decided to have another baby, it's highly likely that our minis' clothes would be out of style. Not to mention that both our children are spring babies, so almost everything has served double duty. Soooo, in that vein, I decided to have Coach pull the boxes from the attic so I could drop some things off at the consignment store. Might as well get some cash to use for the boys summer clothes this year. I mean, not that we need the money. We're rolling in it. Haven't you heard how AWESOME the real estate market is? Oye vey. Probably I'll use it for groceries or gas or...crack. What-ever.

I have no intention of looking through anything 12 months and under, I just can't part with newborn clothes. 12 months and up is fair game.

So, when I post that I am pregnant next month, you'll know why. Because I am selling a few of the minis' baby clothes...

BTW, Coach thought "Om. Namaste." (from my post on the 10th) was a brand of lipgloss...

Not smart. Not smart at all.

Dear Offending Mom,

You don't know me very well. If you did, you'd never have said what you did. Anyone who DOES know me would have advised against it. In fact, they probably would have warned you of the wrath which might ensue. In fact, I'm still not clear why we were even having a conversation that would warrant any judgement of me. (Kind of like the girl who insisted that I cut in the front of the preschool registration line in 2003 and took the last opening? Moron, my husband was in line, he got there early, then I traded places with him so he could go to work. You didn't know I knew you were talking smack all those years ago, but I'll never forget. Ever. But I digress. Yeah, you. Your initials are G.H. in case you've somehow stumbled upon my blog 3 states later. Feel free to email me to apologize, I'd love a good giggle today.)

So, that said, you are NOT more organized than me. Not sure what in the world would cause you to think that you were, but it's. not. true. In fact, you don't even seem all that organized to me. Nary an item in my home escapes a rendezvous with my label maker. My closets, cabinets and pantry would make you weep with shame of your own mis-matched container system, assuming you even have one.

You're often (always) late to school events and I've never seen your car in the front half of the pick up line. Are you skinnier than me? Hell, yes. Are you prettier than me? Not sure, I think it's a close call, maybe even a tie. You do look a little uptight, and I am certain you're not much fun in the bedroom. You have that look about you. Like you might pencil that activity in every other Thursday. But, are you more organized than me? Me thinketh notsomuch.

Just so you know.
Clemsongirl

Edited to Add:
7:21 pm. Laundry? What laundry? If it's not on our bodies, it's clean and put away. Entire house is clean. Even vacuumed the ceiling vent thingies. Little League registration forms completed for Saturday morning. Van is gassed up for a weekend of whatever comes our way. Children's clothes selected for the morning. Dinner is cooking. Children are bathed and in bed.

Game on.

Putting Myself on Restriction

Not allowing myself to post until I finish cleaning. Last night I did the family room and dining rooms. This morning, the laundry room, the powder room and the kitchen. I'll report when completed.

11:19. Boys' bathroom, Master bathroom, Ryan's room, Jack's room, Guest room, all done. Laundry is on a final load. (Note: The dryer is INFINITELY more effective when you turn it on, versus putting the sheets in and walking away.) Have to pick up Jack at 12, so only have a few more minutes of peace and quiet.

Remind me later to tell you about the biggest insult EVER I got today...

A Waste of Good Lipgloss

Om. Namaste.

Yeah. I hauled my cookies (metaphorically speaking) all the way to my office this morning to meet a client who pulled a no call/no show. Seriously irritating. Hair Cycle Day 1 and a DRESS. For the love of Mike.

Om. Namaste.

After picking up Jack from preschool we came home and had lunch, I changed into some nasty-fied sweatpants that belong to Coach and a pair of trainers. Completely negated the hair cycle and pulled my horse's mane into a ponytail. Soon after, I realized that I was going to fall asleep. Not an option with only 50% of my children having been picked up from school. I made the executive decision to employ the Leapster. Put Jack in the van and drove to Ryan's school. Pulled to the front of the pick-up line (45 minutes before dismissal) and told Jack to have at the game. I shut off the ignition and put the front seat as far back as it would go and promptly fell asleep. A delicious 45 minutes later (with 2 interruptions from a socially retarded mom who has clearly NEVER had a roommate, sorority sister or girlfriend who needed a BREAK) and I was feeling rather refreshed. Took the minis to the market and picked up preschool snacks for Friday and a bowl of fruit. Amen for out of season pineapple. The produce Gods were smiling on me and it was even on sale.

Om. Namaste.

It's becoming apparent that a few things are not going to happen at the Casa de Chaos. #1, the Money Fairy does not appear to have me scheduled on her reunion tour. #2, the maid whom I do not employ, evidently has no intention of randomly knocking on my door and offering to scrub my toilets and floors for free. Upon my acceptance of of these 2 realities, it would seems that I need to work harder and smarter (could that be possible?) and I must clean my own house. In the next 2 days.

Om. Namaste.

How's your day?

Ding Dong

The UPS man was here and look what he brought from my secret admirer. (OK, my uncle, but still YUMMY!) I doubt that the pears will last past morning!

The minis went to Coco's after school today to play with her boys and they came home singing. (Remember the Cosby deal when he gave his children cake?) My children were singing, "Miss Coco is Great. She gives us the chocolate cake. Miss Coco is Great..." repeat ad nauseum. What-ever. I gave them ice cream sandwiches yesterday and was NOT serenaded by any of them. Ungrateful little punks. Furthermore, I don't even know if she GAVE them chocolate cake. What-ever.

I refuse to comment on either Britney's latest retardness and/or the primaries. It's just too touchy today. I will say that John McCain's wife needs a serious stylist. Her purple ensemble made me think of Barney. This has always been a Barney-free household. It shall remain so, regardless of her wardrobe choices. Really, I had to change the channel.

Signing off for now.

BTW Clay, you're not the only boy reading, just the one I give hanky panky to....

Coffee Talk

Wordless Wednesday is for sissies. Just kidding. Sort of.

This morning I am meeting a couple of girlfriends at Starbucks for both caffeine and sisterhood therapy. Mississippi Nell and I talk often about the difference between a "friend" and a "girlfriend". It's been said by me before that to be a "girlfriend" one must admit to some character or behavior flaw. It's nearly impossible to build a deep rooted female friendship without that level of admission. Am I right?

What do you think the difference between a "friend" and a "girlfriend" is? Can that change over the course of your friendship? Does it feel different to talk with a "friend" vs a "girlfriend"?

Talk amongst yourselves.

I'm your (clemson)girl

WTF. WTF. WTF. Seriously, can someone in Georgia please buy a house? Really, it's a domino effect. If ONE person could start the "falling", that would be great. I'd like to NOT die of stress and anxiety at age 32. Thanks. On a related note, if anyone is in need of my useless snarky or organizational skills, they are for rent. Or lease. Or purchase. Whatever, I'm your (clemson)girl.

Today I was indeed back in my office in adult-ish clothing with freshly washed hair and even wearing jewelry. Of course, I changed back into yogas and a hoodie as soon as I got home this afternoon, but the effort was still there. Plus, the ponytail is super cute again and doing the Barbie flip because it's so long. Fab-u-lous.

Took Jack by the pediatrician's office after preschool and the doc removed about 24 pounds of wax from his left ear. G-ross. I feel so bad for him, he could only have been half-hearing my DEEE-lightful singing in the minivan. Now, he's all set. And 24 lbs lighter.

Oh, damn. Gotta be a parent for a few minutes. Back later girlies. (and Clay...)
Smooches.

I'm back. 6:51pm and minis are in bed. Jack is ASLEEP and Ryan is seriously considering REM. Hell yes, I am awesome. Were you doubting me? Perhaps the faux relay races I set up in the backyard tuckered them out? Dunno. Just a thought.

Nice Mommy Gets Rewarded

OK, nice Mommy is paying off. No temper tantrums thus far. Took the boys to the park this morning as promised with a picnic-ish lunch. Then went for haircuts, which shockingly they enjoy. Must be the gratuitous lollis afterwards. Next door is a pet shop, so we tooled around in there for a few minutes then went to SuperTarget (duh) where I enjoyed a chai from Starbucks (du-uh) and we looked for a new lunchbox for Ryan. No luck, but still enjoyable.

Then we came home and played outside on scooters/bikes while half the neighborhood came by to visit. Evidently there are only 3 moms on our street that actually CARE about their children and/or safety. Seriously, your child is 6, for the love of Mary, why is he/she roaming the streets on his/her bike unchaperoned and WITHOUT SHOES?! Good God. Of course, the minis aren't even allowed to THINK about bikes/scooters without helmets, so I am bit anal. Silly me, valuing their BRAINS and all. What-ever. I also have this insane idea that my child getting hit by a car might be a bad thing, but who am I to judge.

While watching the children play, I sat comfortably in the garage on a love seat that's been there since we moved here last September. Um, no, I am not a fraternity boy with a random sofa on my porch, but we had no room for the love seat in the new house and therefore it sits int he garage. Coach is for some reason emotionally attached to the love seat, something about holding the babies on it when they came home from the hospital, blah, blah, blah. Anyway, it makes for one comfy perching point while the children play in the drive.

Anyway, while watching them, a client decided to pull the trigger and offer on a listing she's been considering for some time. HOO HOO HOO!!! See what happens when you're being nice mommy? Karma. No idea if she'll actually get it, but it's something for January, right?

More later, the minis need to be dried off from baths and jammied. Then it's dinner and B.E.D.
Oooh, baby!

Manic Monday?

Notsomuch! Today is the last day of vaca for the minis so I am going to take them to the park, I even packed a picnic-ish lunch. See how fun I can be when there is reward around the corner? I look absolutely deee-sgusting. Hair cycle, day unmentionable, maybe 5? Modal yoga pants and a gap favorite tee in white. Green tissue weight short sleeve tee over that and pink Shox. Ooh boy, I am looking rrrr-ough. I don't care, in 24 hours, they will be at school and I will be in my office in boots and a dress. ahhhh, to dream

Ryan has recently recalled the event of me catching his lunchbox on fire with the candle and is begging for ANOTHER new one, so that's on our list for today as well.

I'll check in later, I promise to be a nice mommy. I promise to be a nice mommy. I promise to be a nice mommy...

Sunday no Funday

Yesterday was so much fun, my friend and her family came to visit and stay the night. It was such a treat to hang out and relax and talk, even with 5 children! They left early this morning and Coach came home as well from his trip. We re-watched Knocked Up and enjoyed some fine Southern fried chicken. Her hubby is a chef and I dare not cook for him. Instead, Publix prepared the dinner and Pillsbury provided the dessert. Gotta love place and bakes.

Today was crap. Both of the children are sick of me, sick of each other and sick of being home. The weather was beautiful, 71 and sunny, so we did play outside a bit. But, inevitably there are groceries to buy and the van to clean. So, I lost my cool, kicked a bucket in the backyard (literally kicked a bucket and wounded my toe) and no one had much fun today. Coach is trying to stay under my radar and thus far is doing well. He's making me that flank steak we had last week again per my request, so praise God I'm not cooking. The semester starts for him tomorrow, and of course so does his season. It's a unique schedule and lifestyle we have, just sit back and wait for all my Spring posts. The minis don't go back until Tuesday and I am bound and determine to entertain them one last day...

More in a little bit, just wrapping up the bedtime dance.

Con Mucho Gusto

Thanks loads to the BeeHive for my cutie new header. Now if only I was that darling...

Friday Fill-In

1. This year, I'd like to MAKE LOTS AND LOTS OF CLIENTS HAPPY (read : make money).
2. COACH is what I daydream about most.
3. My STARBUCKS DRINK is a VENTI EXTRA HOT SKIM CHAI.
4. I would like to have more MASSAGES in my life.
5. I love to have lots of BOOKS AND FRIENDS around the house.
6. SEVENTH GRADE HUMOR makes me smile.
7. And as for the weekend, tonight I'm looking forward to THE TUDORS DISC 2, tomorrow my plans include MY FRIEND MISSY AND HER FAMILY COMING TO STAY THE NIGHT and Sunday, I want to READ THE ENTIRE PAPER AND GET A FOOT RUB!

TGIFish

Watched the entire first disc of The Tudors last night and it is fabulous. That said, you really need to have a significant knowledge base regarding English and European history to completely "get" the show. Wolsey is just as creepy as you'd expect and Katherine of Aragon is as regal and beautiful as you'd imagine. The upshot is that your hubby would totally be willing to watch it with you as there is lots of full frontal nudity. And sex. Henry? Well, I'm still on the first part of his reign so he's young and fit and hot. I don't even know if the 2nd season has started on Showtime. I can't imagine how they can make that actor resemble Henry in his later years, 300+ lbs with an oozing leg wound. yuck. Anyway, discs 2 and 3 are lined up for tonight.

Got the treadmill spreadsheet from BarelyTogether and it's really got me fired up. Partly because I think it's totally doable, and partly because it's a spreadsheet. Basically you could put data on dung beetles on a spreadsheet and I'd get interested. So if any of your hot hubbies are trying to cyber-hit on me since they read that I am solo all the time, tell them to send me a spreadsheet...kidding. Not. Preferably with financial stats in the footnotes.

The children have been getting along famously and I am very concerned about Tuesday when they head off to separate schools. Have I mentioned that next Fall when the little one starts kindergarten they will STILL be in different schools? One school is a primary school, K-1st and the other is 2nd-5th. Yep, 2 schools, 2 PTAs, 2 drop-offs and 2 pickups. Bastards. Of course, I assume (will insist) that Coach continue taking at least one of them in the morning.

Well, I suppose I need to do something productive today. I did clean the upstairs bathrooms and sort the laundry. I'm thinking maybe get the suitcases from the van that are still hanging out there from vaca? Just an idea.

Foiled Plans and Bins of Panties

As you know, whenever Coach is out of town (always) I have to focus on some project or hobby and tonight was no different. I decided it would be a really good idea to go through EVERY single piece of paper in this entire house. Every file, every folder, etc. So I gathered up all of stuff and laid it out on the dining room table, the kitchen table and the coffee table. Um, well, I was able to throw out about 100 sheets of paper, but it was already pretty organized and labeled. It took all of 20 minutes. And then I put it all right back. And it was BO-RING. I only had to make 3 new labels with the beloved label maker. On an up note, I did find a receipt for my work photos for our taxes. Other than that; pointless. What the hell am I going to do Friday and Saturday nights when the minis go to bed? I was counting on that taking at least 2 nights...

While doing that, I watched Nanny Diaries which I had rented last night. I had high hopes that it would rival Devil Wears Prada, but notsomuch. Not even a little bit as good as the book. And Harvard Hottie? May I say; notsomuch? I also rented the first season of the Tudors, but am currently watching Celebrity Apprentice. Omarosa is retarded. Really, really, socially retarded. I am 100% convinced that she did not sit at the popular table in high school.

Today I took the children to my office for a few minutes to drop a couple of things off and was pleased to find a Christmas card on my desk with a Starbucks card from a client in it. So nice! And totally needed, what with my husband abandoning me and all.

Then I stopped by Victoria's Secret to check out the semi-annual sale with minis in tow. They acted like ass-hats and we had to leave. But, as a consequence, I put them in the van and drove them to another shopping center and went to ANOTHER Victoria's Secret. Suckers. I actually didn't end up buying anything for 2 reasons. #1, the line was out the damn door. #2, I am hoping that my panty size will be one size smaller very soon. Another post for another day.

First of So Many Useless Posts

Coach is Philly bound, and leaving the laptop with me. That said, I picked up 4 movies and a case of TAB. Here's the first of many, many silly and useless posts you can expect over the next 4 days...totally stole this one from a new super-cute blog I found; http://jill-inc.blogspot.com/ to whom I give full credit.

5 THINGS I WAS DOING 10 YEARS AGO
1. I had just met Coach, so looking super-cute 24/7.
2. Prepping for graduation and getting my first apartment alone in Atlanta. (yep, big fat lived here 10 years ago and now we're BACK. Creepy)
3. Getting ready to go to Europe for my last vacation as a college student.
4. Got my first cell phone!
5. Got my Jeep, which at the time was one of the biggest cars on the road!

5 THINGS ON MY TO DO LIST
1. Tackle Mt. Washmore
2. Try to Couch Potato to 5K plan for the treadmill.
3. Order my 2008 calendar for the fridge.
4. Clean the minivan.
5. Prep for the children's return to school next Tuesday.

5 THINGS I WOULD DO IF I WERE A MILLIONAIRE
1. Pay off every damn thing.
2. Give Skinny and Nell an ass load of money for putting up with me.
3. Send the minis to Catholic school.
4. Build a home with a reading room attached to my bedroom with one million books.
5. Buy Coach a silly black pick-up truck with a Nav system.

5 THINGS I WILL NEVER WEAR
1. A tight headband or heavy earrings; they make me MEAN (er)
2. White shoes
3. A Christmas sweater that lights up
4. ANYTHING University of South Carolina
5. An orange jumpsuit. In or out of jail. I'm just saying.

5 FAVORITE TOYS
1. Coach's laptop
2. iPod
3. Label maker
4. Palm Pilot
5. No comment, this blog is PG-13

Naked toes and Invisible Coach

Alrighty. Just as I was about to rouse Coach and persuade him to get the HELL UP and DEAL WITH his children, he came down the stairs. I instructed the minis to leave him alone until he had some coffee, and then all bets are off. We're having the problem of the 4 year old waking up the 6 year old at 7 each morning. Now, I suppose if I would get my happy arse up I might be able to entertain him enough to prevent him from waking Ryan, but that's a theory I have yet to test.


Oooh, I am being so sweet. I just told the minis to "Seriously. Stop talking to Daddy until 1/2 of his cup of coffee is gone." I hate the feeling of being bombarded when I wake up before I "get my armor on." I assume he feels the same way. Of course, I am freaking sitting here blogging and simultaneously helping Ryan build some K'nex thing-y while he enjoys the delish coffee that I MADE. No, I'm not bitter, you? Not that he's leaving for another Coaching Boys' Weekend "Conference" and abandoning me all alone with them again. What-ever. (BTW "what-ever" is my way of typing a valley-girl style "whatever". So cock your head to the side and drop your jaw accordingly as you read it. Wanna practice? What-ever.)

I am considering going to the office for a little bit today, I do have a price change to make on one of my listings and thought a couple of hours over there might somehow make the house fairy come and I could kick start 2008 work-wise. I am thankful to have had a successful 07, but we started so far in the hole I still can't see our way out. Perhaps the new minivan monogram will really influence sales with buyers...surely that'll be life changing. It has to be, it's so stinking cute. Speaking of the minivan, I have yet to completely unload it from our trip and the children's suitcases are still in the back.

I haven't left the casa de chaos since Saturday except for a brief jaunt to the grocery store in Coach's car and then to a PTA committee meeting. How funny is that? It is WEDNESDAY! Jack told me yesterday, "Mama. Just so you know. You wore dose tings the udder day. And you smell. Bad." (yes, we're aware of the speech issue) What-ever, I can totally get 2 days out of my velour tracksuit. It's extra comfy when you also slept in it the night before. I am also sporting 2 week old toe nail polish (To Be 25 Again by OPI, thanks Skinny!) that is all banged up and chipped from the sand. Some of the toes are completely naked. It is NOT a good look. It's also unlikely that I will fix it today.

No idea where Coach disappeared to. Haven't seen him in 15 minutes. Really. He thinks hiding from them means he's off the hook? Thinking....thinking...thinking...NOOOOO. I'm giving him 5 more minutes and them I am d.o.n.e.

On the count of 3 I am getting off the couch and getting ready. 1, 2...3 I'm up, I'm up.

2008

Happy New Year! I hesitate to post and run the risk of you missing YESTERDAY'S post of all my Disney photos...but, hey, I'm nothing if not a risk taker.

Last night Coach and I watched SuperBad and I am not even a little embarrassed to say that I enjoyed it immensly. I believe I fell asleep before midnight, but was roused (rudely awakened) at 12 when Coach started his annual phone calls. What-ever....

Off to mop the kitchen floor while Coach snoozes the morning away...