doing stuff and not doing stuff

I guess the tightwad in me trumps the activist.

Multiple sticker-making websites wanted me to pay actual money to make/order my awesome activist sticker.  (I thought the price with an order of 100+ units was reasonable.  ...reasonable if I have 99 paying orders.) So I stepped back for a tightwad breather.  Tightwad says a trip to Micheal's craft shop might get me a sticker for less that $25 and not require me to become some sticker-website-club member.  I mean really, are we going to have club meetings?  Club dues?  I really look forward to all the emails from my sticker friends...  So throw in a Micheal's coupon and tightwad and activist might become friends.

If I hear a bunch of squawking- "I want my sticker!  Give me a sticker!"...

First, I might snap- "SUZIE!  HOLY PANCAKES!  YOUR STICKERS ARE RIGHT THERE!!"

Then I'll turn red realizing it's not Suzie and we're not talking about the princess stickers all over my living room.

But really, if enough people want some, I'll do an order. 

For now, let's discuss a scrubbed kitchen and a broken dryer door...

They both make me smile.

Roe and Wade in minivans

Have you seen the pro-choice posters with wire hangers?  -the ones saying 'this is not a surgical tool' or 'what will women turn to?'?  You know, 'cause all these poor women will be forced to  endanger themselves with scary alternatives...

That just TICKS me off.

It's like a kid telling their parents that if alcohol isn't allowed then they'll turn to the cleaning supplies under the sink.


It's a threat.


It's a stinkin' cowardly threat.


So tonight, instead of pacing and shouting silently to myself, I'm entering the debate by making a logo inspired by an ignorant, pro-choice sticker on the back of a minivan in line at the kids' school the other day.  Something like 'my life, my body, my choice'...

Here we go-

Yeah, take that grey minivan.  My sticker is way better.

Let's take responsibility people.  And if it is a case where there is NO CHOICE (rape, risk of death) let's stand by the individual to have a choice then.

See?  I'm totally pro choice.

what she said

If this post goes askew I blame Darwin Deez who is singing to me as I type. 

I have this "notepad" in my iphone that has been collecting memorable (or not 'cause I had to write them down) quotes from my girls.

Time to purge!

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

I was on the couch as Brenda and Suzie puttered about the living room.  Suzie announced that she is a frog and I giggled as she bounced around.  Brenda seemed agitated watching her little sister.  She paced a bit, slapped her head a couple times, then suddenly came next to me, cupped my ear with her hand and whispered, "Mom.  Suzie is not a frog!"  

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

One evening Brenda was at the table fiddling with something when I suddenly heard her start to cry.  I asked what was wrong and she looked at me with big, sad, red eyes and said, "I don't like being different!".  With my heart about to burst I asked her why being different was sad.  She said with a few sobs, "I don't want to be different, I don't like it!"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing!  I had never heard such a lucid, self-aware statement from my daughter, which was exciting but at the same time I wanted to sob with her.

This went on for a couple minutes as I struggled for the perfect mommy-words.  But the desperate tension broke when Brenda added- "If only I had real legs!"

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OH.  ...She was reenacting Dora, the mermaid story.

Well done Brenda!  Well done.

!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!

I've got a quote from Suzie but it's about female anatomy so we'll pretend I wrote it out and we're all laughing.  ...And she's been asking what color everybody's poop is.  

Now speaking of Darwin Deez-

Hood to Coast video

Us relayers just love slide shows!  Here's the latest...

egg brain

Remember those old commercials...

This is your brain.

*egg*

This is your brain on drugs.

*egg in a hot frying pan*

...If they added a line about me-

This is Lindsay's brain on a Thursday afternoon.

*scrambled egg being served to a dozen wild monkeys*


Just over a week ago I was calmly nodding along with others talking about school starting this week.  "Oh how the Summer sailed by..." we chatted.  But in my egg-brain the conversation was different.  AW DANG.  THIS IS SOMETHING I'M SUPPOSED TO BE AWARE OF, ISN'T IT.  ....I THINK I'LL MAKE MY WAY TO THE STORE AND BUY SOMMME ...PENCILS??? 

Brenda did make it to school, in one peace, with most of her listed supplies.  She couldn't have been more proud of her new angry birds shirt.  If it wasn't for social graces and hygiene she'd grow old in it.

School starts on Friday for Garret and I just need to make sure I have a clean shirt for him.  Can I handle that?


And as sweet as it is to have two kids headed back to school, I don't believe it'll do my egg-brain any good.  A recent personality test has informed me that my scrambled brain is a wonderful, permanent part of me and ought to be celebrated.

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I forgot to buy bread today. 

SHAZAM!  PAR-TAY!!  

BURNIN' DOWN THE HOUSE!!!!!!

teehee