Fiddledeedee

I haven’t fallen off into the ocean. Or disintegrated from the heat. Although, another 3 degrees might do me in. No, I’m still here, but just haven’t had time to write anything coherent.

Not that that is a prerequisite to posting.

All of my free time, which occurs at night when the children are blissfully unconscious, (and is usually reserved for blogging and toenail pondering) has been spent working on this speech I’m giving Saturday.

And y’all, I’m happy to report that I’m finally able to get through it without revisiting everything I’ve managed to keep down throughout the day.

My joy knows no bounds.

In fact, I’m even starting to enjoy myself. Color me surprised. I’m having so much fun that I’m considering setting up my own blogradio station!

I’m kidding. I’d fire myself before the end of the first podcast. But I really do enjoy the sense of power I have when I throw on the headphones and mic.

I just need a sidekick. WHO SHOULD IT BE?

At some point this month, I have been blogging for two years now. I noticed on my stats page, that I have published just over 500 posts. In fact, because I was curious, I found that my 500th post involved a random list featuring potty training and PMS.

Perfect.

Last year, I threw myself a big blogoversary party. This year, the date slipped by, unnoticed.

And I find myself in the middle of a great big old blogging slump. It’s not that these people that I live with aren’t providing me with material. Believe me, they are. I just can’t seem to find the humor in all the carnage.

I’m sure I will. Not to worry.

And this may have quite a bit to do with the fact that I’m awfully preoccupied with ALL THE FREAKING OUT that I’m doing about the talk I’m going to give Saturday on Used Curriculum for the Heart of the Matter Virtual Conference.

It starts tomorrow, and I can’t even listen in because I don’t have Windows. To, you know, steal material gain useful knowledge so that I might feel like I know what I’m doing.

I was very excited to get my headset and microphone. I felt just like Lily Tomlin on Laugh In, when she played Ernestine, the telephone operator. I may have even snorted. Which, if you listen in and I snort, I’m just channeling Ernestine.

So, I’ve been able to rehearse. And I’ve come to two conclusions. A) I’m considerably more comfortable hiding behind my keyboard, and 2) I’m boring.

Since I’m in need of Windows, to do the actual talk, I’ll be heading over to my in-laws on Saturday. And I’m comforted by the fact that my MIL has a stash of Port Wine in her pantry. The kind you unscrew.

I love visiting my MIL. We’re the only two in the entire family who appreciate a six dollar bottle of fine Port Wine.

So, I’m hoping that a glass or 4 will take care of my nerves. And that whole “Oh dear Lord, I’m going to make these people want to stick knives in their ears” issue.

If I’m a little light on posting this week, just know that I’m having a nervous breakdown. And I’ll be back in the saddle after the weekend.

Here’s mud in your eye ears.

I love a good soaking in a warm bubble bath. With the door closed. And double locked. Maybe even a chair tilted under the knob, just for good measure. Soft music playing on the alarm clock radio. With only the faint glow of the bathroom night light illuminating my glass of hard Bourbon Ginger Ale. Heaven.

My Cailey inherited my love of a end of the day bubble bath. She wants to be a mermaid when she grows up. So, the tub is the natural place for her unwind. Only I make her keep the door open, no music, lights on blindingly bright, and she’s lucky to get a glass of water.

I do throw in the bubbles, though. Mostly out of necessity. To aid in getting her clean. Saturday night, I set her up in my tub. She happily sank back, bubbles up to her neck, her hair upswept in a clip.

She looked like an angel as she beamed up at me. When she was sufficiently wrinkly, she gingerly got out and I wrapped her in a large thirsty towel and held her close. I smelled of her soft neck and said, “Cailey, you smell just like a flower.”

“NOT FOR LONG, MOM,” and just then she cranked out a gaseous expulsion that forced me consider repainting the bathroom.

I’m not kidding. It brought tears to my eyes.

And not in a good way.

Moving on.

Since I’m on the subject of smelling good. Or not. I wanted to vent my frustration over something that happened this weekend.

I’m not a perfume person. I use to be. Back in the day, I could layer on Anais Anais or White Shoulders with enough gusto to curl your hair. But, when I was pregnant with Emme, the smell of perfume, any perfume, would send me screaming into the next zip code, just to escape the assault on my delicate senses.

And since then, I haven’t gone back to the perfume counter. However, I do enjoy a nice scented lotion. I found a wonderful citrus-y lotion at Bath & Body Works, called Tamarind Nectar by Breathe Delight. I LOVE THIS LOTION. I buy a couple of bottles at a time, and I’m set for 6 months or so.

I was just about out of my beloved lotion, and happily, I found myself in the mall. I bounced into Bath & Body Works and aimed myself at the familiar shelf, brushing aside the apron clad worker bee, “I know just what I want.” And then I stood staring, in disbelief, at a shelf that no longer held Tamarind Nectar. The apron clad sales person stood beside me, thoughtfully gazing up at the same shelf.

“Where is it?” weakly, I asked. She explained to me that my favorite scented lotion, the one that I’ve dearly loved for nearly 9 years, has been discontinued.

OH THE HORROR. She gently took me by the elbow and showed me a couple of other inferior scented lotions that offered a citrus type aroma.

IMPOSTORS. HIDEOUS IMPOSTORS. I thanked her for trying, and I left empty handed. Head hung low.

I’m on a mission now. To locate a new citrus-y scent, that won’t overwhelm my delicate sensibilities. Or send me into financial ruin.

And I knew just where to turn. Does anyone have any citrus scented lotion type recommendations?

And really y’all, after the t-shirt suggestions, I’m still laughing. I think we should go into business.

We live in the land of baby gates. Small wooden gates, large wooden gates, tall metal gates with latches, you name the gating system, we are either using it, or have used it and threw it away in disgust.

Because we house an inmate. My last and final child is a climber slash escape artist who can and will dismantle an entire dishwasher, if allowed in the kitchen.

And then there’s the shiny, sharp carving knives.

I shudder at that near miss horror trip to the emergency room slash police station.

Now that the little booger has entered his terrible 3’s, he is learning how to get around the baby gates. He doesn’t just open them. Oh no. That would be child’s play. He takes the entire thing apart. And leaves it in a heap on the floor. As he laughs maniacally, carrying his Blues Clues blanket into the forbidden zone.

And now, oh this is fun, he has figured out how to unlock the doors. The front door, the sliders, you know, the ONLY BARRIER KEEPING HIM FROM SPEEDING CARS WHICH FLY DOWN OUR STREET.

Yesterday, I looked down the hall to catch a glimpse of the back end of Junior and Blues Clues Blanket exiting the front door. Odd, I thought. Well, maybe he’s going outside with Fiddledaddy.

Except that just then I heard Fiddledaddy at the other end of the house. I ran out and caught hold of the boy child as he was heading down the sidewalk.

And the adults in the house may or may not have peed their pants just a little.

Today, Fiddledaddy and Junior took a little trip to Lowes. For some hardware. Brackets have been installed, additional locks that I even have to stand on my tippy toes to reach, and there was even a little something for the slider door. A guard dog may have even been mentioned. Except for the fur allergy. And the fact that if I had one more mouth to feed I’d throw myself off of our one story house.

Yes. We have a security system with a high pitched beeping noise that will sound if anyone enters or exits. And it goes very nicely with all the other noises in my head.

And folks, it’s not like I can toss him out in the backyard to play. It isn’t that he can scale the 6 foot fence. Yet. BUT HE’S ALLERGIC TO GRASS, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD.

I console myself by curling up into the fetal position, and repeating, “It’s only a season. It’s only a season.” And I hope and pray that one day this will all just be a distant memory…

And I can look back on my archives and chuckle. FROM THE NUTHOUSE.

I have a favorite faded t-shirt that features a dead stiff cow, laying on its back, hooves to the sky, that says, “Really, I’m fine.”

And never has anything embodied what I’m feeling as well as that thread bare shirt.

I turn it over to y’all. If you were to design a t-shirt, that mirrors what you are going through right now, what would it say?

Have a wonderful weekend! And thank you homeschoolers for your used curriculum sites suggestions! Keep ‘em coming.

I am scheduled to speak at the Heart of the Matter Online Virtual Homeschool Conference which begins next week. My time is Saturday, August 2nd, from 11:45 to 12:45 EST.

My grand plan included pre-recording my talk, so that I might employ the use of EDITING techniques. Because of, you know, my propensity to say something inappropriate when nervous.

My plan, however, was foiled when I recently learned that the conference software will only work on computers that run Windows.

Pffffftttt. My Mac spits on the use of Windows.

You see, we’re an all-Mac family. I worried that my burgeoning career as a homeschool speaker would be short-lived.

(And in truth, it may be, if I get really really nervous.)

A new plan was hatched. I will be throwing myself on the mercy of my in-laws, and commandeering their inferior Windows based computer, so that I might give my speech, and then be open for a little Q & A.

One hitch. I have to speak live. Not just the Q & A, which I did try awfully hard to figure out a way to pre-record that as well. You know, anticipate the questions, and pretend it was live. But, that would have been deceptive. Frowned upon in Christian homeschool circles. And by God.

Therefore, live it is. I will have a fog horn sitting by the computer, should I have need of censorship. And perhaps a small glass of my mother-in-law’s stash of Port Wine.

I ain’t skeert.

I’m in the midst of putting down my thoughts and doing the rest of my fact gathering. And I wanted to ask my homeschooling compadres for some help. I will be speaking on the subject of Used Curriculum. There are about a gazillion used curriculum websites. I have a few of my own personal favorites, but I want to know which ones y’all use and know are reputable.

Thank you ever so much!