HollowSquirrel

I've Moved!

2007-04-21T13:13:00.000-05:00

For those of you with Bloglines or some sort of Reader, please know that I'm not being lazy (this time), but I actually moved!

Please visit the Squirrel family at www.hollowsquirrel.com and adjust your links accordingly!

Thanks!

must go to bed

2007-04-08T19:22:00.000-05:00

Jojo: 3
Mom: 0

I'm defeated.

Call SuperNanny.

Fat Attack

2007-04-07T20:28:00.000-05:00

Mr. Squirrel needs to return home stat. Not only do we miss him terribly for all the obvious reasons, apparently all reason and self-control fly out the door with him regarding my diet-- I've made the pop-'em-in-the-oven chocolate chip cookies (5g of fat EACH) two nights in a row.

(8 cookies in total x 5 = 40 extra fat grams! Why am I shouting about this? This is not good news, you moron! AND now I'm shouting at myself. Good times.)

For dinner, I made (Knorr Lipton) fettucine alfredo which was delicious...because it was loaded with fat. And a salad. I had a salad, too. But who really cares when I wash it down with warm chocolate chip cookies?! UGH.

Tomorrow, I'm single-mommin' it again, so there's little hope for nutrition.

Or fun (owing to the cold weather + major holiday = nothing the F to do because most of today was spent indoors so HELLO impending boredom/whining).

This year, at least, I'm prepared. The past 2 Easter Sundays, I've headed to the mall with visions of spring sweaters in my head only to be brutally rebuffed by locked doors & DUH signage that the mall was closed for those nonheathens spending time with their families.

With a shred of hope, I decided to check-- the only stores open at the big mall here are the new Borders (score!) and a variety of (crap) restaurants including Hooters! Yes, I know, they're wings are suppose to be really good.

So, a trip to Border's will constitute Easter Sunday 2007 for Jojo and me. Wait. No! I also hid some plastic eggs around the house. I'm going to send him on a hunt while I mix his oatmeal tomorrow.

Ha. Good one.

If you knew our morning routine, you'd know that he'll cry large ridiculous tears of HATRED and screw up his little face into one of RAGE and INDIGNATION because MOMMY IS NOT MOVING FAST ENOUGH TO FILL MY PIE HOLE WITH OATMEAL, DELICIOUS OATMEAL.

Seriously. He does not yet grasp the necessity of the microwave. I cannot imagine the pain we'd both incur if we didn't have the microwave and had to cook it on the stovetop.

The horror.

Shit. I gotta get to bed.

Entourage 'n Eggs

2007-04-07T12:47:00.000-05:00

1st 4 episodes: eh.

Hard boiling eggs: um, apparently sources differ on the length of time the eggs should sit in the covered pan. Not that I'm trying to place blame, but can I just tell you that I lost 6 eggs today-- THREE were cracked in the container (and subtly dripped out the bottom, thereby crusting themselves to it) and THREE cracked in the (GD) pan. My kitchen smells eggy.

I'm suppose to bring 12 to a dinner this evening, but I can only manage 9.

9 is the new dozen.

Pass it on.

Update on Daycare Woes

2007-04-06T09:54:00.000-05:00

I thought I should report to you, the very kind, supportive and willing to kick ass alongside me friends who commented on my lengthy explanation of my current daycare woes, the much more favorable events which transpired when I picked up the Jo this afternoon.

Since I was able to leave work earlier than usual, Jojo wasn't crying when I arrived (he tends to cry when everyone else is leaving, and he's one of the last to go...I know. Sob!). Instead, he happily played and chatted with a 7 month old in an exersaucer.

Three of the 4 teachers (in the combined rooms -- and NO, Miss C, the one who doesn't like me wasn't there) were still there, as were 3 other kids. All three appeared genuinely cheerful. Perhaps it was because they get today off of work or the unusual activities of the day -- Easter egg dyeing, Picture Day... and for my growing boy, his first nap on a cot!

My Jojo napped on a cot for 2 hours without falling off and incurring a head wound. Whew. His teachers were so proud of him, that I started to tear up.

Then they excitedly told me that next week, he would eat lunch and snacks at a toddler-sized table instead of the high chairs!

And in his cubby I found a colorful bag containing the dyed Easter eggs, some biter biscuits and a BIG Jojo-colored Easter card for mommy & daddy.

On my way out, I ran into the assistant director who gushed about Jojo's success at cot-nappin' and reported that the two teachers in the Toddler Room are so excited for him to move there.

Needless to say, I feel much better about the situation.

I'm still going to speak to the director about Miss C's attitude and my concerns, although with only 4 days left in dealing with her, I think time and distance will smooth things over. The concerns still should be addressed though.

The outlook for Jojo's stay at this daycare and his upcoming move to the Toddler Room have vastly improved.

Thanks again for your support!

-----
Weekend Update: Remember how I asked you for movie recommendations? Well I trashed all of your ideas. They sucked. KIDDING. Geeez. But you know how you end up at the video store and suddenly you can't remember any of the great movie titles you'd been planning to rent? And then you end up just mocking the soft-core porn or quickly turning away from the killer clown videos so they don't haunt your dreams?

Next, you find yourself in front of the Television Series display, gazing longingly at Peter Krause and Michael C. Hall and all of your friends from Fisher & Sons? Sob. Yes, YES, I'm talking Six Feet Under again. I'm still in mourning. I think I'm at the depression stage. Hopefully I'll move onto acceptance soon... but really, this WOULD be a great series to pick up and see where they're at. BAH.

I picked up another HBO series, Season 1 of Entourage. Let's see how that goes...

Daycare Woes

2007-04-05T07:35:00.000-05:00

I haven't discussed daycare in a while, except for singing the praises of our Monday afternoon sitter. Jojo still attends two full days of daycare on Thursdays and Fridays at the location gushingly recommended by my friend and coworker...that was until she pulled her little one and high-tailed it out of there, leaving me to scratch my head and anxiously question my own decision to keep my baby there.

Am I a bad mommy for not pulling the Jo, too?

That night, Mr. Squirrel and I debated moving Jojo to another facility. Were my friends' issues enough to uproot Jojo (again) to another daycare. Where would we move him? The limited choices included

an even more lengthy commute for Jojo (if room became available for him at this coveted daycare, which still has a waiting list) or
the large chain daycare within walking distance from our home which while spacious and light seems to churn out a ton of stomach viruses and costs twice as much as our current location or
look again at small in-home daycares

Today after dropping Jojo off, I left with tears welling in my eyes, fists clenched, feet immobilized outside his room and my face burning with anger, offense and shame.

Obviously, not the standard tears shed upon leaving your beloved child in the care of others, only to ache for their toothy smiles and squeals of joy as you head off to work.

The trouble began back around Christmas when a survey appeared in Jojo's cubby for me to complete. It asked the usual questions regarding satisfaction with the teachers and daycare overall and left several lines for comments...which I used in my typical honest fashion. The survey stated there was no need to sign it-- one could remain anonymous; however, considering there were only 4 or so kids in Jojo's class at the time, figuring out which parent responded in what way seemed rather obvious. Plus, it stated if you did want to sign it, your concerns or comments could be discussed with the director. I signed it.

My mistake.

I don't think my comments should have been made public to the teacher, but it's quite obvious that they were, either verbatim or paraphrased in a manner which pissed them off.

Neither of the directors has ever contacted me nor acknowledged my complaints (or compliments-- there were both).

My complaints and accompanying suggestions were:

Ask the teachers to stop bringing in boxes of doughnuts and cookies for the kids. The director actually used this as a positive selling point when I first visited the daycare; and, yes, it's quite considerate in some ways, that the staff purchases enough snacks for everyone out of their own pockets... but does a 10 month old need a doughnut? When they walk in at 8am, will Jojo benefit from several chocolate chip cookies? I didn't think so. How can you work with children, have children or just have a pulse and not know the research on childhood obesity? I definitely sound like a mean mommy. And I don't care. I'll give Jojo snacks like that on special occasions and after his tummy has been filled with other healthy proteins, carbs and fiber. I don't need his lunch to be not eaten because of the ginorous sugary muffin he chowed down earlier in the day.
Reduce or eliminate the sugary afternoon snacks in favor of my healthy ones, such as cheese & crackers, vegetables, or fresh fruit.
Eliminate the constant afternoon snacking. Well, when you toss cookies at the kids all afternoon instead of engaging them or directing them to self-guided activity, then yes, you're going to have a bunch of toddlers whining and pointing at the food cupboard. Sometimes I felt the kids reminded me of seals or begging dogs. Not to mention, the sugary snacks didn't stick with the kids long enough to give them more than a sugar high. I suggested that my solutions to problems 1 & 2 could eliminate this compliant as well.
Establish or at least make public the daily routine for the older infant room. From my vantage point, the teachers in his room (mobile infants until age 18 months) just kind of playground-monitored the kids... I didn't see any evidence of structured activities. Many times I observed reactive babysitting-- not really engaging the children until a problem erupted. I realize many 9 month olds don't need planned activities, but I truly see the value in Jojo, at nine months, observing the other children and participating (if only peripherally) in simple activities, like storytime or guided play. Was I asking for too much? Too frigging bad.

I buffered my complaints with enthusiasm towards a couple of the teachers, and I thought by giving valid reasons for my concerns, I'd reduce any bitterness towards me. I didn't want any resentment towards me spilling over in their attitude towards or care for Jojo.

I noticed a couple of weeks after the survey acceptance end date that my favorite teacher (Miss C), one who only cares for Jojo in the a.m. and before I pick him up in the evening, definitely cooled towards me. Her once bright smile and friendly demeanor turned to averted eyes, short, one-word answers and no more pretty smiles. I knew at once my comments had affected her in some way. The assistant teacher in her room, whom I've never cared for, didn't change her cold attitude towards me. I just hoped they still treated Jojo with love and care. I thought they did. I'm sure they do. I'm just not so sure that they don't bad mouth me in his presence, and the presence of the other children, after I leave.

Jojo's actual teachers differ in their interactions with me. Miss J, who has been with Jojo since the beginning, remains professional and kind to me. She's actually Miss C's niece. I'm confident in her care of Jojo, and I don't detect any animosity towards me. His other teacher, who is new there, isn't friendly or very professional, in my opinion, and I actually caught her darting a "look" at Miss C after I told them that I'd dropped off some (substitute) snacks in the fridge for Jojo (it was their suggestion!!).

I caught the look. I'm not an idiot.

Then this morning... as usual, I dropped Jojo off with Miss C (who he stays with until his teachers arrive... the classrooms are connected). Because it's Picture Day (!), and I mentioned this reasoning, I asked her if he got anything to eat before the pictures, if they wouldn't mind putting a bib on him to keep his clothes clean. Is that rude? Honestly, am I a bitch?

She looked at me with her hate-hardened eyes and tersely said "I'm not his teacher. That's something his teachers should know. I'll tell his teachers. But I'm not his teacher."

My eyes popped, and I remained calm. Another mom and baby were there, and I didn't want to generate negativity in front of Jojo, now sitting on her hip.

I know she's not his teacher, but at this time of day, she actually IS his teacher. She's responsible for him until his "real" teachers get there. Currently, there's no messaging "system" set up to convey daily news to his "teachers" except via face-to-face. That's why I told her (in a friendly way, since I'm already walking on egg shells.).

I had other things to tell her too-- about his snacks I left in the fridge and to please apply Balmex to his diaper rash. I picked the lesser of two "evils," softened my shocked features and asked her to also tell his teachers about his diaper rash thank you so much. And I exited.

Reading over what I've written, I seem to be unable to express the snotty way she responded to me, and considering I've been giving them the benefit of the doubt and "I'm probably reading way too much into this" before now, trust me, it was rude.

And that's how I ended up outside in the hallway, in my socks, in shock. Unable to move. Do I go back in after this other mother leaves and ask Miss C what has been wrong lately. Maybe she's having a tough go at home and isn't aware that she's not the outgoing, kind person (to me) that she was before. I don't know. I just know that I didn't like that interaction.

So what do I do? If I'm imagining this, and it's truly not a personal attack, I don't want to pull Jojo for nothing.

The other complaints have been addressed-- they offer a schedule featuring developmental stages/activities for each day. They limit the cookies and brownies and offer more nutritious snacks. I can bring cut-up red pepper for Jojo to snack on, too. I thought things were getting better.

Plus, and I've been hanging onto this point for a while now, Jojo moves up to the toddler room in less than a month. In fact, he has only 4 more days in that room.

Am I making too much of this?

Please don't bother me

2007-04-04T07:26:00.000-05:00

I'm busy watching the finale of Six Feet Under...

-----
Update: Dude. I am spent. That finale sucked so many emotions out of me, most of them involving tears and moaning (in the sad way). Yes, Maya and TV Goddess, I'm just NOW watching the finale (thank you, Bravo). I agree that this may be the most satisfying finale ever, but that's not too surprising given the overall acting and writing quality that prevailed for five amazing seasons.

I realized somewhere in Season 4 that I'd been to hate and back with all of the major characters -- Ruth, Nate, Claire, David, Lisa, Brenda, Rico and even Keith. So lovable or at least understandable at times, completely infuriating at other times, these kind of deep connections or repulsions towards the characters mimic real life in a way that the vast majority of tv shows never go near. The writers refused to wrap up the series, or even some of the storylines, like Lisa's death, in a neat and happy ending.

The finale rocked me. My throat burns from trying to stifle my sobbing. I'm completely saddened that I have no more original episodes to watch. No more Claire. No more David. No more Keith. No more Keith. Did I say Keith? Oh right. No more Keith and David trying their best to make Durell and Anthony feel loved and part of a family. No more Claire finding her passion and independence in NY. No more Nate, lovely and damaged Nate. No more Rico and Vanessa getting the love back with their new business.

If you haven't watched this series or even the finale, I don't want to give anything away, but it's yes the best but also the most heartwrenching finale ever.

If ever a series should be resurrected (sorry for the pun, but truly, it fits) and go on until I decide it's done, this is it. I'm shelving this series as My Favorite of All Time. I know. I KNOW. That means Felicity move to No. 2 spot (no shame there, JJ). I'm so sad it's over.

Sniff.

Would you still love me if I wore this?

Grateful Tuesday!

2007-04-03T09:12:00.000-05:00

SURPRISE! Hi. Look at me all posting often and stuff. Woot. Not only that, but I'm thankful at least five times over. Read it here:

1. I'm grateful to you, impartial and wise commenters, for agreeing with ME that people say Champaign-Urbana, not Urbana-Champaign although Mr. Squirrel continues to argue with me due to this enigma. Why do people do this? FINE. Let's call it a truce...and Champaign-Urbana while we're at it.

2. Yet again, dear internet friends, for reassuring me that sitting on the couch and watching Tivo every night with Mr. Squirrel is just fine, and I don't need to worry that our time together isn't quality or special if it's not deep and focused. Thanks. And because we also do enjoy boardgames, I bought Boggle (insert air guitar because, clearly, we are rock stars).

3. Have I expressed how grateful I am to our Monday afternoon sitter? Probably, but let me just say again: holy gratefulness times a bazillion. Jojo hearts her; she hearts Jojo; we heart her; she hearts Mr. Squirrel. Everyone gets the love (ok, except me...I'm always the last loved. And I'm fine with that. Kind of. Except for our OB who clearly did not GET why Mr. Squirrel married me until I proved myself with 3 hours of straight no-nonsense pushing, an episiotomy, a 9lb 6 oz baby and an uncooperative placenta and THEN THEN THEN she found me worthy.). BUT I couldn't ask for a better caretaker for Jojo (wow, I get off-task, don't I?)...too bad she can't watch him the other two days! Today when Mr. Squirrel asked her how Jojo's day went, she swooned and gushed "he was peeerrrrrrrrfect."

4. I'm grateful that the few times I get annoyed with the wonderful Mr. Squirrel, something spontaneous and unexpected happens which reminds me of just how quirky and hilarious he can unintentionally be. In fact, he may not realize this makes me laugh, so let's not tell him because then he'll become defensive and again, we'll have to do our own research to support our arguments. WHICH argument? Nothing big, but this morning while reading Barnyard Dance to Jojo, Mr. Squirrel pronounced cock-a-doodle-do as kook-a-lee-do. I'm sure when this does come out (the next time, he'll likely catch me mid-giggle), his wide eyes will search mine for why EVER I would not know that roosters say kook-a-lee-do. OK fine. I'll be nice. The cutie did spend his formative animal-sound producing/identifying years in europe. It was just so unexpected and adorable. I hope Jojo requests that book tomorrow morning, too.

5. Maybe this point sound be 4a, subtitled, "and my husband also supports me and encourages me to go out with my girlfriends which I heart and NEED." I'm so ridiculously grateful that Mr. Squirrel repeatedly told me to go to BlogHer, go out with friends (tonight! YAY!) and visit my friends in the Twin Cities (booked! see ya in less than a month!!). If you think I'm not going to be grateful for the 4 hours of peaceful travel (Sudoko, books, gossip rags), then you don't know me too well. SWEET double dealio!

Inquiries

2007-04-01T20:21:00.000-05:00

It's Monday. It's early.

Am I mean for asking you questions so early, or are you already needing a distraction from the kids or work or, perhaps the sad sad minutes the Today Show is dedicating to The Donald fighting another jackelope at a professional wrestling match? Slow news day.

But I digress. Mrs. Squirrel has questions... do you have answers?

1. Is it weird that my husband eats baby carrots like corn on the cob? No. Really. He does. I don't know how I missed this before, but he explains it's a good way to get to the core, which tastes different. Yes, so then he ends up with a little stick of core carrot that THEN he eats like a normal person, in my judgmental opinion...

2. We began the morning with a fight. No worries, we're already over it, but tell me honestly if I was being a bitch. Mr. Squirrel and Jojo were hanging out upstairs while I showered and got ready for the day. As I began blow drying my hair, Mr. Squirrel came in announcing that he had to take a dump and proceeded to undo his pants. I suggested he go downstairs to our other bathroom so I wouldn't have to blow dry my hair while he stank up the bathroom. He got all huffy and asked what about Jojo? I'm like "take him downstairs with you." Mr. Squirrel got all hot and (more) huffy, but come on!! We have two bathrooms in a small house, and why wouldn't he just go to the other one for some privacy and to save me from the stink?!?! And yes, we do poop in front of each other. I know. Totally sexy and tmi.

3. Meet Jojo, your personal shopper. No question here, people, just look at Jojo:

4. Mr. Squirrel again leaves town this Friday for work...until Monday. I want to rent some flicks-- any recommendations that don't include horror and can include chickish flicks?

Crazy Stopped By

2007-03-31T18:50:00.000-05:00

yesterday and left a lengthy comment in my latest post.

Did anyone else see the conspiracy-themed irrational manifesto left?

Considering it wasn't a personal attack on me and clearly left by someone stopping by the site just to leave their special brand of paranoia, I planned on leaving it...until I noticed the ridiculous length.

In Arial 12 pt font, this "comment" rants on for FORTY FOUR pages in Word. 44.

That's a whole lot of anger, delusions, accusations and warnings! I mean, I can get riled up about things, too, but 44 pages? Bra-VO!

I'd hate to think what this dude (or dudette) thinks about Sanjaya! Or Lizzie & George!? Let the manifestos flow!

Mr. Squirrel requests your assistance

2007-03-30T12:22:00.000-05:00

only that I'm lying and he never did. But truly, I think this was a call for help.

1. The University at Illinois. Champaign-Urbana or Urbana-Champaign? What do you call it? I'm sure many of you don't call it anything, but for those who know it, what flows naturally from your mouth?

2. Wait, I do distinctly remember Mr. Squirrel jokingly request help from you to help us come up with "games we can play together" in the evening instead of resorting to our normal routine. I know, I know. And "hide the salami" has already been suggested. But back to his legitimate request... our normal routine, you query? Do you want the inside scoop on what exciting adventures Mr. Squirrel and I engage in nightly? The rest of this post is rated BBB, as in Triple B for boring:
7:30 -- put Jojo to bed
7:31 -- turn on Tivo. Watch one episode of something (last night: Lost)
8:00 -- pause Tivo for food break: Mr. Squirrel grabs ice cream, and I make tea. I'm so over ice cream. It's bringing me down.
8:02 -- turn on laptop, next to me on the couch.
8:25 -- done with show.
8:26 -- whine about nothing else being on Tivo lineup. Vow to email AMC again about the return of Hustle and curse ABC for (you should know by now) flushing TKoP.
8:28 -- Mr. Squirrel moves into the dining room, turns on his work laptop and begins working. On work. At home. See the problem? Yours truly is already reading blogs, checking email, online shopping and otherwise not engaging her man at all. Also: much to Mr. Squirrel's annoyance yet tolerated because it's cleaning out the Now Playing list on Tivo, I'm also watching the last (sob!) episodes of Six Feet Under.
11:09 -- exclamation from one of us at the late hour and OH MY GOD let's go to bed.
11:25 -- both hit the bed.

Are you as hot and bothered and JEALOUS as you should not be for we are lame?

So Mr. Squirrel wants suggestions on what we can do together (read her: yes, we understand "sex" is an option. Let's try for alternative options.). Ideas? (another note: he refuses to knit with me. And, I refuse to watch the Mets. Although... David Wright is hotttttt.).
----

Totally different vein o' conversation: so at 8:45 am this morning, I was turning into work and noticed, across the street, at a gas station a student getting in her car. She wore a flimsy lingerie-inspired spaghetti-strapped camisole, tight jean capris and black stiletto heels.

At 8:45 in the morning.

In Upstate New York, where the local temperature was not yet 30 degrees.

Not. Yet. 30 degrees.

The high today is 55, but still.

The next student I saw wore a knee length wool coat, knitted hat and wool scarf wrapped several times around her neck. What the f?

You know what bugs me?

2007-03-29T14:54:00.000-05:00

I've only watched a couple episodes of Extreme Home Makeover, but it bugs. I can't help it. I'm sure my complaints aren't anything new or enlightening, but I just need to say it. I probably wouldn't even say anything, except to grumble to Mr. Squirrel if we happen to flip it on accidentally, but my friend Jenna Bluecircle (No really, that's her name. Except it's not...but it's something close to that) alerted me to the fact that Extreme! Home! Makeover! is in our area and in need of volunteers! To help! Let's create a ginormous, ridiculous pimped-out home for some hero in our area.

Now. Don't get me wrong. Several of the families I've seen or heard about are grateful for the new digs and easier living conditions...like the little boy with the disease which makes his fragile bones susceptible to breakage. The team outfitted their (ginormous) new home with soft flooring, walls and handrails. I get a lot of what they did. I just don't understand why they have to go so over-the-top all the damn time. Can't they instead build 5 really wonderful, safe and paid-for normal-sized homes? I guess I'd rather see more families benefit from receiving the gift of shelter, comfort and assistance over a huge production (and ridiculously sized command center/hotel) for one family.

I have a difficult time, too, saying the word "deserve" or "hero" because I think "hero" gets bandied about far too often these days. I also feel like people tend to feel they deserve things more than than feel like they should work towards their desired goal. I realize that some people are dealt difficult hands in life, and I am happy that our society reaches out to try and make their lives easier; but do they DESERVE it? Are they heroes? I don't know, and I'm sure my feelings would vary on a case-by-case basis. Is it me? Maybe I've only seen episodes where these words are thrown out in a melodramatic and abundant manner... but it bugged.

Maybe I just wish it wasn't done on tv...in such a splashy way. With all of the expected drama, tears and for-the-love-of-Christ, that one tan guy's insanely white teeth. Needless to say, don't look for me in the crowd, yelling "MOVE THAT BUS!" and holding up a "TY, MY FRIEND POODLE TOTALLY WANTS TO HOLD YOUR (LOVE) HAMMER!" sign. Although...it is on my way home...and I'm sure Poodle would really appreciate that...especially if I used her real name. Hmmm... where's my Sharpie?

---
To continue what could be the longest list of all time... (ok, fine, I'll limit it to top of mind things)

2. How when you look for flights online in the evening and the general cost is $280. Then 12 hours later, you resume searching only to find the same exact flights listed for $313. HATE you, NWA, I hate you.

3. Um. Office location. So my office window sits like 30 yards behind some apartments. Student apartments. Ok, I'm not sure it's around 30 yards. I measure distances by figuring how many steps I would have to take to "hit my mark" a la Marching Band. Because I'm a Total Dork. While peering through my blinds, I'm all "8 steps from the wall to the end of the sidewalk is 5 yards. 8 steps from there to the plastic bag snagged on the tree is 5 yards. 8 steps through the discarded Dunkin Donuts coffee cups (NOT mine) and assorted trash to THAT tree is 5 yards. Up the hill 8 steps through the hastily tossed refuse and assorted windblown trash -- another 5 yards. Cresting the hill, breaking free from the litter-infested trees to the brown grass of the apartment lawn-- yet another 5 yards. To the backdoor of the apartment building -- I'm there." See? 30ish yards. Whew. And what was my point? That there's a boatload of litter behind my office, stuck in the trees (damn you ~~trees!~~ trash!) and muckin' up the landscape? No. That when jackelopes lock themselves out of said apartments, they walk around to the back and yell up to their roommates: Bill! Bill! Bill! Bill? BILL! BILL! BILL! BILL! BILL!HEY BILL! BIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL. Bill? Fuck. And I can hear that. All. All five long minutes of BILL.

4. The little remote locking clicker thingy for my car fell off my key chain. So now I walk away from my car, fumble to find the clicker locker thingy, grumble to myself for forgetting that I don't have the clicker (and of course that the damn thing fell off), look around to see if anyone has noticed that I'm talking to myself, and finally lock the damn car with my key. If Jojo sits on my hip during this, then I do all of the aforementioned while also trying not to curse, drop him and/or reframe the situation into a positive learning experience: "oh no! Mommy forgot to lock the car. Let's go back! Look at mommy's old school way of locking the car, Jojo! I put the key in the lock and turn-- totally 1980s! I wasn't even on birth control back then...that's how old school this all is!"

Remember when I was grateful?

2007-03-27T12:54:00.000-05:00

I used to do this thing...attempting to be routine...on Tuesdays called Grateful Tuesdays, where I would list 5 things I'm grateful for today. Considering today is Tuesday and I remembered this seemingly 'duh' fact, I'm going hop on this occasional bandwagon and resume ridin (grateful style):

5 things I'm grateful for:

1. Mr. Squirrel. What a fantastic husband. How lucky am I? He totally stepped up and took care of me (and Jojo) this weekend when we were plagued with various ailments of the oozing, aching, vomiting and general crap-feelin' variety. Not that Mr. Squirrel doesn't do a lot any other day of the week, but he did things without me asking (like taking Jojo on a trip to the museum!) and can I get a 'hallelujah' for that? SING IT! Thank you.

2. Free toys! Yes, you heard it here! Well, you're too late. Sorry. K gifted us her kids' ball pit that was "lost on the move" to their new house. Jojo hearts it long time, and doesn't it match our living room decor nicely? What a generous friend-- Jojo and I gratefully thank K and her family.

3. Toys R' Us on a cloudy, drizzly day. Since we've been quarantined in our house for the past 4 days, this morning, with clear eyes and no oozing snot, Jojo and I headed to Toys R' Us to purchase some additional balls for the (free!) ball pit. Alas, both local stores were out of balls and "oh I don't think so" about ordering them online ($11 shipping PER box of 100) , but ...but... Jojo found great joy in runnin' all through the houses in the Little Tykeish neighborhood of play houses. I'm sure the workers there don't consider the set-up as a playground for customers, but TDB because you're all out of balls so there.

4. My mom's group...because the majority of the moms do not give a rat's behind that I didn't put on makeup when I dropped by this awesome-o jump around place which you can drop by for like 4 hours (for $2.50 per kid!) and hang out with other moms/play with other kids and (most importantly) different toys! I wasn't sure if we could make it today, but on the way home from Toys R' Us, the Corolla guided us there...completely unaware that my cosmetics bag sat on the kitchen table. No quick fix in the car. I may have scared some of the smaller children, but let's hope their memories are short. We both just needed to get out of the house for a while, and with the mom's group so well-planned, each week, I know somewhere to drop by where I'll know at least a few of the moms and their children. Jojo loves this location-- after several days of sad faces, I was grateful and thrilled to see him running over to me with arms raised and a BIG smile!

5. Kind of shallow, but hey, it's my list. Lands' End and their fantastic sale-- check out the sandals on Jojo. Socks with sandals? Say it isn't so. But yes. Indeed, he insisted on wearing the sandals this morning (genetic, perhaps?). I grabbed a pair in the next size up for him, too. $7.99. Fanfriggintastic! I can use those savings on extra balls for the ball pit, should Toys R' Us decide to stock them ever again.

5a. Dancing with the Stars. What? Did I just... What? I accidentally caught a few numbers last night and HELLO HOOKED. Go Apolo! And Clyde! And lest we forget Joey. Ok, so it's really nothing to be grateful for except that our Tivo line up looks pretty lean these days thanks to hiatuses and jackelopes canceling fantastic sitcoms (yes, those two words rarely pair up together). I'm talkin' to YOU, ABC, and givin' the old screw-the-pooch to The Knights of Prosperity. Wow, someone is not sounding so grateful all of a sudden. I guess that's why this one is 5a...

Updates and Answers

2007-03-25T13:01:00.000-05:00

HOLA! And I'm not just talking to you. HOLA EVERYONE. Que pasa? Warning -- this post is random. Commence reading.

Por favor cross your fingers that Jojo does NOT wake up every twenty minutes beginning at around 2:30 like he has the past 2 nights... I think his fever is finally gone (knock knock/cross fingers/throw salt DO WHAT YOU MUST, PEOPLE!). My LANTA this virus sucks ginormous balls of suckitude.

The best part of these treasures he brings home come when he shares them with his mom. Somehow Mr. Squirrel escaped these germs, but I've not faired so fortunate. Friday Jojo and I just sat around festering in our germs; I usually don't put the tv on for more than one episode of Sesame Street, but I queued up 2 of those and one Barney. Momma can only handle one, barely one, of the simple dinosaur. And those kids... seriously, didn't their parents learn anything from that unfortunate Subway ad from a few years ago where that white girl starts doing the Running Man and says "Check it out!" and then her career tanks? Because really? Don't do 'the robot.' Just don't, kids.

Saturday, I spent most of the day in bed with a sinus infection, migraine and at least thirty wadded up, crusty used tissues. In an effort to be the Best Husband EVER, my sweetie made me soup. No, not any soup. I wanted chicken noodle, but when we only had chicken broth, Mr. Squirrel cut up spaghetti into little noodle sized lengths and made his own chicken noodle soup for me! Then he brewed me some delicious tea with honey. And to top it off... he allowed me to stay in bed for so long that I finished the entire 300 glorious minutes of Pride & Prejudice (Colin F-ing Firth). Despite the vomiting and general feelings of neverending craptacularness, the day was pretty fantastic.

Today: Sunday. UNC ruined my bracket. I spilled bleach on my favorite jeans. Something is in my good eye, rendering my sight fuzzy. My nose remains stuffed. BUT... but. There is hope. Hope for tomorrow.

=====

Am I the only one who leaves my email address on every comment I leave on the internet? Apparently so. You guys don't know how many times a day I try to respond to one of your comments via email only to have it be returned due to you not leaving an email address. Think of the witty emails and personalized love you're missing out on! How can you go ON like this? I've decided to answer a few of the recent questions or comments below...ones that I would have emailed but I never got around to it or you're anonymous in some way:

1. Erika asked in regards to this post...a post where I reveal my struggles with depression, if I'm still using the pack n play in the background. Excellent and perceptive question, Erika. Thanks for the sympathy. Kidding. Oops, now I see you asked me to email you the response, but in case anyone else was wondering if I stick little Jojo in the pack n play to go cry in the fetal position whilst clutchin' my anti-depressants, the answer is no! Although, that would be a safe place to put him if it comes to that. However, funny you asked, Erika, because I'm not sure we've ever placed Jojo in there... he slept in there once when we visited Mr. Squirrel's father, but honestly... I don't think I've ever used it like that. Instead, we use it as a changing table on our main floor and a storage area for wipes, diapers, and toys which Jojo tosses over the edge. When guests aren't visiting, we usually move it to the main floor guestroom so it's not taking up so much room...but currently, Mr. Squirrel and I are far too exhausted to wrestle it into the next room.

2. Anonymous asked, in reference to the same post just mentioned, if I used anti-depressants before conceiving the Jo, and if so, how difficult was it to wean. Yes, I did use Celexa before getting pregnant, and I'd been on the same dosage for a couple of years... a pretty low maintenance level. A few months before we started trying, I decided to wean because taking the pills became more of a routine, and I wasn't sure they were necessary. I'd been level and fine for quite a long stretch. I was right. Thankfully. Weaning went just fine, and I don't think I suffered from depression during my pregnancy. Sure, I had my moody moments, but for the most part, pregnancy agreed with me-- even my allergies disappeared. But then. Then. Post-partum. Wow. That sucked huge ass, and it took me far too long to get back on the meds.

And now? Well, the weaning didn't go so well this time around, so I'm back to my full strength and baby #2 has been shelved until I can better cope. This obviously accounts for my current state of bummertude. So what am I doing? I'm seeking a second opinion, trying to get outside in the sunlight more, exercising more and eating better. This last factor -- the eating better -- is long overdue, and since my decision to seriously change my diet (no more doughnuts. You heard it hear.), I've been very good; I guess it took something incredibly important to me, like another child, to get me to finally stop stuffing my face with crap. I'm going to eat better, exercise more frequently, talk to a psychiatrist and hopefully, in a couple more months, attempt to wean again so we can get to humpin. I mean, so we can bring forth a child.

3. Isabel asked if pink eye is ghetto...and clearly, from the comments from other fine, infected friends, the answer is Hell to the No, Isabel, pink eye is not ghetto. You WISHED your eyes were crusty and oozing. YOU WISH. Ahem.

=====

Ok, you know how I did the celebrity look-a-like thang? Well, I uploaded a picture of Jojo and theeeeeeee scariest larriest ugly man popped up as his match. Screaming may have ensued. Possible vomiting. So, if you do get matched with someone creepster, just try a different picture and blame the program. After the horror that matched with my sweet and cherubic Jojo, Mr. Squirrel and I uploaded a picture of him...and this was one of his top matches (Yes, Mr. Squirrel is younger than me, but not THAT much younger):

Zac Hansen. The littlest Hansen. My husband. Zac Hansen.

Why do I do these things?

2007-03-20T14:06:00.000-05:00

First Three Thoughts:
1. HA! I don't look anything like her...which is really too bad for me.
2. Kill me now. I loathe Martina Hingis.
3. I have GOT to work on reducing that double chin. Seriously, I'm surprised Louie Anderson didn't pop up.
and
3a. Who the f is Lacey Turner?

And now discuss topic: Renee Zellwegger? Me? See the resemblence? Jojo's babysitter repeatedly tells me I look JUST LIKE Renee in Jerry Maguire. Yeah, I didn't think so either.

The wood was knocked

2007-03-19T20:19:00.000-05:00

but the funk still came.

Jojo has pink eye.

We are sure to follow shortly.
=====
Edited to add: dudes. Pink eye doesn't dink around. I have it. I hope to Tivo we have some Sesame Streets on tap for tomorrow.

Don't Make Me Come Over There

2007-03-18T21:18:00.001-05:00

and kick your ass!

Doesn't Jojo look like a teenager-in-training? Frightening. He's OWNING these streets with his knit cap, army green coat and takin' it to the man expression. Even his mother shivers.

======

Also, I just shook someone's hand who immediately followed "nice to meet you" with "I was just at the Health Center for pink eye." Needless to say, my hands shot down to my sides and after a brief conversation, I waited for him to exit the hallway and beat feet to the bathroom where my hands were scrubbed raw.

Lookee here

2007-03-18T20:09:00.000-05:00

Dudes. I love this kid:

I seriously may have written the longest post in the history of blogkind on brussel sprouts over at my other blog. It's riveting stuff, go see for yourself.

I promise I will blog again here very soon, but sitting here next to the monitor, listening to Jojo's frequent mid-REM cries, I realize I'm in for a long, long night. And I bid you adieu. For now. And please, while I do so, knock on some wood for me, because I think he may be getting sick again. Snotty nose and post nasal drip BE GONE!!!!

Deep Thoughts Friday

2007-03-16T13:48:00.000-05:00

Thank you for your patience and kind thoughts.

I was awakened mid-nap with this very important Deep Thought...yet another indicator of How Long I Could Remain Civil To You Before I Go Off on Your Oddities Should We Meet in Public:

When you want to communicate a "3" with your hand, do you hold up your three middle fingers OR make like an "ok" and present your pinkie, ring & middle finger OR (thanks TxMom) use the official ASL sign for three (thumb, pointer & middle)?

I tried to find some online pictures to further help differentiate these two signs. Instead I found a frightening site created by some anti-satanist (is that a word?) who found the "devil sign" being made by such obvious satanists like Jason Alexander and Meryl Streep. I'm not linking to that site because it's whack and full of hate. But really? Meryl a satanist. I just don't think so.

I'll try to be back soon! Happy weekend. And thanks again.

It's not a break

2007-03-13T12:18:00.000-05:00

And it's not a hiatus. It's just a short nap... a blogging nap. We might be back tomorrow. Or Thursday. I'm not sure. I just need to take a nap (literally).

I thought I was just exhausted from life, but (duh!), the exhaustion also resulted from trying to wean from my anti-depressants so we could try for jojo #2. Yay! I know! But... that's on hold. I'd rather be the best possible mom for Jojo and the kindest wife to Mr. Squirrel than sink into the ugliness that has been the past few days for the coming months. I just can't do that to the people I love, including myself.

I'm tired and frustrated and just need to go nap. Until I have some non-exhausted time to catch up, blog on my friends.

Oh, and the pic above documents our recent haircuts and the bags under my eyes.

Someone woke up on the wrong side...

2007-03-09T13:36:00.000-05:00

of the bed, and this time it's me. ROAR am I crabby. BAH.

All of the following, I believe, combined to create my craptacular mood:

1. My new bangs. Ok, I like them. Really, I do, but here's a sampling of responses I've received from coworkers:

You look tired. Are you sick?
You did something different (while staring at my forehead).
You look like Heather Locklear when she was on Melrose Place. Slutty. Nice.
You look exhausted... is Jojo sleeping ok? Can you leave early today?
Yeah, you look tired again. Is everything ok?
It makes you look older.
You look more casual, like you just woke up.

2. So, is it the bangs or is it that I just look tired, because I am tired. I am exhausted. And truly, while I adore my parents and am extremely grateful for their help this week while Mr. Squirrel works downstate, the speed and energy needed to keep up with my mom has worn me down. I'm so tired, I feel like I could wilt to the floor and sleep there for the next three weeks.

3. I fucked up at work last Friday, and it's been exhausting and embarrassing to fix the mistake and, of course, explain it to everyone. Cost to our project: $266.

4. I fucked up at work again yesterday, trying to fix the mistake from last Friday. I didn't realize this mistake until this morning and alternated between laughing and crying on the way to work. Cost to our project: $108.

5. One of my coworkers on this project drives me to the brink of insanity each week by emailing me the day before our WEEKLY meeting to ask me who else (from the rest of the group-- 4 people-- who meet EACH AND EVERY week) will be at the meeting. Why doesn't HE just email the other five people and pose that question to everyone instead of asking me to email everyone? All six of us make it IF WE ARE AT WORK, and if someone can't make it, the meeting continues without them. He drives me mad. Mad. I tell you.

6. Remember my bangs? Ok, well then last night during American Idol, my mom colored my hair from a box. A box of chemicals which not only burned parts of my scalp (that it wasn't meant to touch), but WHOA am I really blonde now. So why did I do it, then? Because I'm a world class wuss who won't just tell my own mother: listen, I know my hair is getting darker with age, and YES, I wish I had the money and time to have it professionally colored more often, but I don't. So I'm just workin' the skunk look. But no. Now I'm working the Blonde Out of a Box look. Hardcore.

7. American Idol. If you want the best singers, then don't limit your field by requiring the same number of male and female singers. They're all bitching and moaning that the women far surpass the men (in general) this season but continue to make these gender quotas. It's ridiculous.

8. This point may the damn tipping point for today. One concerned reader and fellow blogger emailed me in appropriate outrage because ABC shelved the best sitcom they've got: The Knights of Prosperity. You can click "contact us" at the bottom to leave a message, like I did, bemoaning their idiotic decision. Stupid assclowns. That show routinely gets Mr. Squirrel and me laughing so hard we have to pause it to catch our breath and rewind it to replay over and over again most things uttered by Rockefeller Butts. DAMN YOU, ABC!

9. Stupidly, I ate lunch at TGI Fridays. I know. Why do I kick myself when I'm down? HS Tip #28342: Do not order the sandwich that's kind of like a beef brisket thingy with au jus sauce, because it sucks and is so not a french dip, although that's what I wanted it to be. Instead, the breadbunthing was huge and square while the thickish round slices of mystery meat were piled high in the center, leaving a good 60% of the breadbunthing without any meat under it. I enjoy full on meat distribution in my sandwich. Am I alone here? I don't think so. Plus, the au jus (I may be spelling this wrong, but I don't care at this point) spilled all over my fries, so they were limp and wet and COME ON. Side table note: an older man at the table next to us horked up some nastiness as we waited for our food. That didn't help the ambience, let me tell you. At least they use paper napkins so no one has to find that treasure later.

serenity now

2007-03-07T19:40:00.000-05:00

Jojo woke up on the crabby side of the crib today.

Grandma got the brazillant idea of taking him to the barber for his THIRD haircut, so per usual, instead of speaking up and setting the day's course the way I thought it should go, I went along to

1. Dunkin Donuts where Jojo inhaled a glazed donut. Don't get me started. I KNOW.
2. the barber where Jojo freaked OUT (again). Thankfully this time there were only two customers and four employees to hear the screaming, fighting toddler. Joys.
3. buy a box of blonde highlights because my hair keeps darkening with age despite my fairly recent trip to the colorist. Sweet Jesus. That is tomorrow night's mother/daughter project. Help me.

Jojo took a 3 hour nap to recover from the trauma of Ralph, the barber. He woke up even more whiny.

What did I do? Take a nap like I should because I'm getting a cold? Oh no, I decided to run more errands (with my dad driving...at 5 below the speed limit every. single. slow. step. of. the. way.).

Then, I went and did this.

why why why why

2007-03-06T07:55:00.000-05:00

I'm SO pulling a Kerrigan because (wha! and WHY?WHY?WHY?) jury duty was called off, and I won't be called again for at least six years!

BUT I want to serve...and sit and be forced to read books while awaiting my turn to be called up to the hot seat and answer questions for the chance to win up to ... oh wait, it's not a game show. BUT STILL. DAMN!!!!

So I'm home today with my parents & Jojo. I have a list of things I need to get done:
1. taxes
2. clean out the office
3. ok, that's really it.

My mom hasn't mentioned her to-do list today, but I'm guessing it's this:
1. go shopping with me and Jojo
2. go out to lunch with me, Jojo and Grandpa
3. keep shopping with me, Jojo and crabby Grandpa
4. make dinner
5. clean my house because it's filthy

I'm not big on getting Jojo out in public because I'm a wimp and uh, I'm a wimp. I don't like messing with his schedule and confining him to the car. I'd much prefer chasing him around our house.

My mom, on the other hand, enjoys testing the limits of my patience and frayed nerves by suggesting dining options like The Cheesecake Factory and Other Niceish Restaurants with large menus that require 10 minutes to peruse when I'm like "BRING ME A BURGER MAKE IT RARE SO IT SHORTENS THE COOK TIME AND GO GO GO GO AND BRING ME THE BILL NOW IN CASE HE BLOWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Plus, did I mention I have to get our tax info together? Good times.

See? I blogged, too. In the messy office which I should be cleaning.

***UPDATED TO ADD: We just returned home from shopping and the Cheesecake Factory. TOLD YOU!

Did I mention

2007-03-05T15:35:00.000-05:00

that my parents are visiting this week while Mr. Squirrel works out of town and I'm supposedly on jury duty but oh wait, they don't need me today?

Yeah, so I can't blog when they're around. Cuz they're nosy. So... enjoy this respite from my crappy writing!

First Rule of Bookclub

2007-03-01T08:41:00.000-05:00

Say the word "cunt" one bazillion times.

I joined a bookclub recently and Wednesday night was my first time attending. (<------ that's the book). Read about it here.

Why discuss the book, you ask, when instead I can share random conversations from the evening spent with various moms from the local moms' group:

*Topic: Oops Awkward. I don't remember how conversation turned to this topic except that the person who brought it up dominated most of the conversation in a totally annoying way. At least speak quicker if you're going to amend every other topic with your own personal story, ya know? Well, this particular story involved the talker attempting to restrain herself (and her outrage) with her pregnant sister-in-law because she was... gasp... drinking a Diet Coke. A fucking Diet Coke. While pregnant. Right away, two other moms raised their hands as "hello, I drank Diet Coke while pregnant" and every other person chimed in, "yes, I drank a POP (ok, maybe they said "soda," but it's my re-telling so zip it) a day while pregnant." Then my friend K, who was hosting, said, "you should see the picture of my mom the night before she gave birth to me: cigarette in one hand, wine in the other. And I turned out just fine... (looks around to make sure..."right??"). Yes, I realize pop contains chemicals and flavorings and things that aren't necessarily healthy, but in the grand scheme of things, chill. She would have received a lot more support had her sister-in-law been shooting up the smack. Of course, that didn't end her stream of stories.

* Topic: Potty-Training. For one mother (different one...the most germaphobic of the lot), her plan on bringing her in-training daughter out in public is to:

Bring along Clorox wipes.
Wipe the public toilet seat.
Wait four minutes while the wipes kill 99.9% of the germs.
Place the potty-training small toilet seat (brought from home) on the newly cleaned public toilet set.
Commence with peeing or pooping.

Um... FOUR MINUTES WAIT TIME for a child who is holding peepee? That's a no-go. I don't see this working. Plus, FOUR MINUTES breathing in stench and trying to contain a curious, anxious, hopping toddler in a pube and fece-infested bathroom stall? Good luck with THAT. Please let us know how that turns out. At least she'll have some wipes to clean up the urine that will be all over the floor.

* Topic: the Diva Cup and how not to store it in your husband's Pyrex container. Yeah, I'd never heard of this until I read the book, but now I have one on order. Seriously. I do. I'll blog about it here, and also let you know Mr. Squirrel's suggestions for where and how to store it. Considering he works with materials and understands chemistry and material permeability, his take on sanitary storage should yield some good suggestions as well as damn funny blog fodder. The Luna Pads were also a huge hit with the Diva Cup wearer in the group, so I ordered some, too. TMI? TFB. Menstruation happens. It's a cool process and there's nothing to be ashamed of. Down Down from soapbox...

=====
Oh! And I have jury duty next week. My first time. EVER.
***** UPDATE: I'm not needed for Monday. Four possible days remain...fingers CROSSED people!

Grateful Tuesday

2007-02-27T22:45:00.000-05:00

Oops yeah. I've been lax in posting the 5 things I'm grateful for, although I have been keeping up on being more thankful and grateful in my little pea brain.

But...let's try this from the top:

1. I'm grateful to have a supportive husband and enough funds to go to BlogHer 2007 in Chicago this summer! YAY. I cannot wait. I need a vacation. One without a squirming baby & chock solid itinerary of seeing family and more family. Of course, I'll probably miss Jojo and Mr. Squirrel with a heated vengenance and be forced to wear a big ass "I heart Jojo" tshirt with his cute cherubic face embellishing the front...perhaps rhinestone appliques would ease the separation anxiety, too? And a "Mr. Squirrel rox my sox" fanny pack? Who's going and hangin' out with me? Huh? Huh? I can make you your own fannypack, too. (please note: I'm kidding. Orders will not be accepted. My bedazzler done broke. again. kidding. movin' on...)

2. I'm glad I can point Mr. Squirrel to the BlogHer site for him to read for himself why I'm going to BlogHer and what I'll be doing there, cuz seriously, he asked if we're going to pillow fight each other. In our undies. Totally. How'd he know? And now I want to know. Have YOU personally ever been involved in a pillow fight with other women in their underwear? If so, how much does porn pay these days?

3. My friend Mary. She's my best friend here, and I really miss her when we haven't talked in a while. Last night, I took her to dinner for her birthday, which I casually mentioned to the waitress. Considering she forgot my iced tea and never refilled any of our drinks, we were surprised (and in Mary's case, not very delighted) when the waitress remembered the occasion and brought over others to sing for her. Awesome! Double awesome? Mary still wants to be my friend. Whew.

4. Thanks to my generous friend, Poodle, who invited me to join her coworker's Oscar pool, I'm the humble and modest BIG GRAND PRIZE WINNER. Give it up for the WINNER! Woot woot! Of course, I don't know just how much green I'll be rolling in yet since ~~she's skimming a commission from my hardearned winnings~~ she forgot to mention it, but I'm grateful for any extra money to apply to my BlogHer 2007 trip. Have I mentioned yet that I'm going?

5. I'm grateful to have found a wonderful, loving, and kind caregiver for Jojo for Monday afternoons. My amazing neighbor S suggested her mother. The pair get along fabulously, and her grandsons also stop by to play with Jojo. S makes sure to tell me each time that her grandsons are only allowed over for like 30 minutes so I don't think she's actually watching 3 children instead of just Jojo. She also does the dishes and once left a note for Mr. Squirrel advising him of a television program she thought he'd like. If you could see the delight on his face when the boys stop over or how he stares after & waves at S when she leaves for the day, you would cry with sweet relief.

Oscar Contest Winner REVEALED

2007-02-26T23:00:00.000-05:00

Oh sit down all six of you. I know you could barely contain your enthusiasm last night... and no, it wasn't due to the wet hot yumminess of Leo or Mark (hereafter referred to as My Mark and don't you forget it.)Or the long-awaited revelation of Quadrant Numero Dos. Although that IS exciting, so check it out!

That eager anticipation you were feeling was certainly due to finding out the winner of

HollowSquirrel's FirstEver and Maybe I'll Do It Next Year If I'm Still Blogging Then Oscar Contestacular!

A few days back, I ~~threw together in a fit of too much caffeine~~ revealed the carefully crafted, very small contest.

The 4 questions with golden answers:

1. Which movie will win Best Picture? HollowSquirrel curse begone! The Departed wins!
2. Will Jennifer Hudson make it her own and bring home the Best Supporting Actress statuette? Yes!
3. Is Eddie Murphy going to Party all the time, Party all the time, Party all the tii-iime after winning the Best Supporting Actor award? Negatory!
4. Which Best Animated Short Film do you think I most want to see win? No Time for Nuts.

That was a gimme.

Two insightful friends of Hollow Squirrel tied for first place: Sandy & Frannie! As promised, Mr. Squirrel randomly chose the winner, so I will be sending a fabulous Oscar Contestacular Grand Prize to SANDY!! Congrats Sandy! Email me your info and a kick ass prize is YOURS!

Also:
A little HollowSquirrel Oscar recap:
Helen Mirren: stunning.
Reese: stunning.
Cameron Diaz: Quit with the coy coquettish crap. Vomitrama.
Ellen as host: fantabulous. Love her.
Did you not get my memo?: I don't know who you are, chica, but step off my man. Seriously.

And the Quadrant goes to...

2007-02-25T20:11:00.000-05:00

All of you.

Come on up. You have 45 seconds to read this post before the music begins...

You've waiting long enough. Sorry for the delay in displaying the results. As you may recall, the subject of this quadrant comes from an argument my mom and I had over the sexiness of John Mayer. Since I needed a "y" axis, I chose another celebrity whose sexiness evokes passionate debates: JT.

Quick explanation:
The X axis shows the perceived sexiness/disgustingness of John Mayer. All the way to the left means "oh fucking A no!" to John Mayer while far right indicates you think he's yummylicious.

The top of the Y axis is for those of you who find JT to be oh so sexy while the bottom of the Y axis is reserved for those who thinks he's a nasty, skinny twerp.

Without further ado:

Quadrant I: This is the double hot box...reserved for those HS readers who find both Justin Timberlake AND John Mayer yummy. While a couple of you sit on the fence with John Mayer, only one of you, the mysterious, delurking Dabney, wanted to ride both of them and put them away shaken, but not stirred. It's late. Give me a ~~bone~~ break. Anyhoo...Dabney, we need to know more. Who are you? Where do you come from? And really? John Mayer? AND Justin? I think your unique perspective on future Quadrants is necessary, so please stop back.

Quadrant II: John Mayer rocks the hottness. Justin Timberlake...not so much. While Bunny threw a half-hearted compliment John's way, my mother's passionate argument about his hottness concerned me. Does she need to see her eye doctor? Might her age be affecting her senses?!

Or is she remembering this rather cute (omg I said it. CUTE.) John Mayer?
Well, screw that. I'm not redoing this quadrant. Cuz really, we've all seen him lately with the Medusa hair, bloated look and utter greasiness. Blech.

Quadrant III. My Quadrant. My peeps. Women who know who's hott. And who's so not. Please note the utter clusterfuck in the bottom left:Yes ladies! We quadrant together! Hell to the NEVER NO to JT and JM! I guess we don't have an agreed upon poster hottie for our quadrant, so let it be whomever floats your horned up boat.

Quadrant IV: Ok. This picture makes me think you're all not smokin' the crack:

And really, Justin scored many many more admirers than Jessica's boytoy (ok, did you, too, just vomit a little? sorry.). But those of you who adore him, those of you towards the top of the box, you're quite scary fervent. I do believe if you ran into Mr. Timberlake, you'd turn into bumbling, drooling fools:

For those of you concerned that we don't share a quadrant, no worries. I still heart you.

And now! Your prize? Wha? Yes, I'm a giver. Whoever can give me the most correct crayon color names (from a box of 16 Crayola crayons) used in the Quadrant wins a fabulous(ly inexpensive but still fun) prize!

Deep Thoughts Friday

2007-02-23T11:23:00.000-05:00

And NO, I'm not done with my quadrant yet. Yes, I'm talkin' to you, Ms. Hily of the Sillys, and you (Jeannette, my favorite Belgian EVER! I heart you more than Magritte!).

This latest one takes a bit more precision plotting what with your deep-seeded loathing or lusting... lots of overlap! But I promise. This weekend! Quadrants! Oscars! What more do you people want from me?!?

Wha?

Contests? Prizes? Ok Fine. Let's play the (overplayed) Oscar guessing game. Please leave a comment with your answers to these four simple preguntas:

1. Which movie will win Best Picture? (and I saw Babel last night, so let me fill you in on this spoiler: I didn't like it. Ergo, it's likely to win.)
2. Will Jennifer Hudson make it her own and bring home the Best Supporting Actress statuette?
3. Is Eddie Murphy going to Party all the time, Party all the time, Party all the tii-iime after winning the Best Supporting Actor award?
4. Which Best Animated Short Film do you think I most want to see win?

Of those who answer correctly, Mr. Squirrel will pick the lucky winner from Jojo's winter hat! Fabulous mystery prizes will be sent to your home shortly thereafter. OOOH the excitement!

And yes, I'll get back to the work. I mean, the Quadrant!

Give it up or don't.

2007-02-20T22:30:00.000-05:00

When I lived here, my friend Poodle gave up something tasty for Lent each year.

We'd be out to lunch or taking our daily trip to the basement Coke machine when she'd tell me. This year it's this!

What? Oh yeah, you do that Lent thing.

One year, she sacrificed her beloved Coke (no really, she loves her red can o' coke). And don't even get her STARTED on Cherry Coke. She probably knows every restaurant or joint in the Twin Cities that sells fountain Cherry Coke. Addict. What?

Another year, she gave up candy. This one I didn't really get because I'm not a candy person. I'm a chocolate person. Big difference (quadrant different, in fact). It was still work for her, I realize this, so kudos to you, Poodle.

Last year, she gave up trying to get Roger at Einstein Bagel to remember her...ya know, the tiny blonde who comes in three times a week and NEVER EVER wants a dripping, disgusting pickle anywhere NEAR her bagel (that has just a smidge of cream cheese on it, NOT too much). Ok. I don't know what she gave up last year for Lent because I'm a bad bad friend who was too wrapped up in my baby to ask. I'm sorry.

This year! What's it going to be this year, dear Poodle?

If you ask me, and I know you wouldn't, I think you should give up your collection of Designer Imposters parfumes. Or...let's see... your porcelain clown collection? I know! The crackpipe! Lay that bad boy down until Easter, ok?

No, really. I support you. I heart you. You know that. And anyone else making a sacrifice and trying to rid themselves of something unhealthy (like another blogging buddy who's deliberating between trying to eliminate POP ("coke" in her neck of the woods), fast food or snacks), props to you and good luck.

Just please. No one give up blogging, ok?

2 Things

2007-02-19T21:43:00.000-05:00

1. Men vs Women: Mooning
Question: Maybe this is just the men in my life, but why, when men moon me, do they feel compelled to spread their ass cheeks and give me the ol' brown eye as well as a lovely backview of their balls? I don't want to see that. I want the funny "full moon" moon surprise. Let's not go all medical exam on me, you know what I'm saying? When you're on the giving or receiving end, is it a "hands on the pants" or "hands spreading cheeks" event?

2. Guests: Sister-in-law & boyfriend
Observation: I'm damn old. So they've never heard of this. Thankfully, the power of the interweb allows me to play them the song instead of re-enact it on my laptop (tickling the ivories/center row), interjecting "it was REALLY funny" and "I guess you had to hear it" and "GOD you guys don't KNOW THIS?" between verses. Oh sweet Sallie Mae, Mr. Squirrel wasn't down here for my performance, but maybe he doesn't know this either. Can that be? I should go upstairs and lull him to sleep with the dulcid tones of his beloved singing of broccoli chop (UH!) ing...

Bad Idea Jeans

2007-02-17T11:05:00.000-05:00

Britney must have been sporting the Bad Idea Jeans when she decided to shave her friggin noggin. Or she's giving a shout-out to Elia from Top Chef? Nope, I'm thinking breakdown, and so are the people who were working in the tattoo parlor she visited after shaving her gourd. Read it from Perez here.

Seriously. The girl needs help. Please someone help before she winds up dead like Anna Nicole.

The Fevah

2007-02-16T15:25:00.000-05:00

The Squirrels have come down with the Fevah. Not the good variety, either-- we're not hankering for Pringles or some saucy banter with Johnny Fever (WKRP in Cin-cin-aaaat-at-eeee) but rather the all too familiar fever fever (as in crabby, hot toddler) and cabin fever.

Here's our front yard before what one set of crafty meterologists have described as February FURY 2007:

Ahhh looks all sweet and innocent.

Ahhh looks all dirty and hot and sick and snotty...but damn, he's still snuggly. This was my Wednesday. Valentine's Day. Don't I look hott? No really, I apologize. Thursday, I usually work, but with Jojo's fever preventing me from dropping him at daycare, I spent the day trying (in vain) to entertain him and keep him comfortable. For the first time EVER, he didn't take a nap. On the day he could have used a three hour nap. For the love. Momma needed a break. A nap. Anything. In my last desperate attempts to curb the whining, I let him watch an entire episode of Sesame Street. Thank GOD Elmo starred in much of the show because the cartoons don't hold Jo's attention like my favorite little furry red monster. And really? I do love Elmo. So much. I don't know. I know it's cool to hate him, but I don't. Put THAT on your quadrant. But back to February Fever 2007:

Sorry for the substandard picture quality but we didn't want to risk waking Jojo.

In the three previous winters, this weird corner mountain of snow has never appeared before. Perhaps it was the drifting of the supafine snow off our roof, but this mound freaks out Mr. Squirrel. I kinda like it:

Despite the fever and a below 0 windchill, a bundled Jojo sets forth into the snow tunnels with a soon-to-be-grounded Mr. Squirrel:

And all right. Enough. When does this shit melt?

You're right, mommy. Snow sucks. I'm outta here.

Part 2 of Ginormous Meme

2007-02-15T14:05:00.000-05:00

Continuing the looong ass meme...

38. Window seat or aisle? Thanks to my small bladder and general fidgetiness, I prefer the aisle.

39. Ever met anyone famous? Yes. Let's see: I've met her-- her awesome father was one of my professors in grad school. Remember her from the Pepsi commercials, etc.? In the short time I spoke with her, I fell in love with her sweetness and modesty. She told me all about riding horses (her real passion). Totally cute. I went to college with two famous people. One is a successful cosmetic surgeon and was on one episode of Dr. 90210. You've probably read his opinions on celebrities and their possible (mis)adventures in plastic surgery in one of many gossip rags. His blog rocks. The other famous person I went to college with doesn't elicit the same positive enthusiasm. One word: melodramatic. Not nice. Oops, that's three words. And the last famous person I met will rock your socks off, ladies. Get ready to pee yourself with excitement: Rob Stone! Hott!!! My friend, Susan, and I chased him through the Orlando airport when we were 14 or so. Not my fault-- I was just running after her trying to figure out who she saw that sent her SCREAMING and RUNNING out of the idling hotel van. That's all I can think of for now...

40. Do you feel that you’ve had a truly successful life? Lordy, you're asking this in the midst of other not so deep questions? Yes, I do, I guess. I've definitely made some mistakes, regret a couple choices, but overall, the relationships I have with my husband, son, family and friends indicate great success. And relationships-- that's where true success lies, not with careers, material goods and money, in my opinion.

41. Do you twirl your spaghetti or cut it? Twirl with a fork & spoon.

42. Ricki Lake or Oprah Winfrey? Ellen! But again, if forced, I guess I'd pick Oprah. I mean, I like many things she does, but I can't watch her show because it's alllll commercials.

43. Basketball or Football? Uh, what's on TiVo?

44. How long do your showers last? Not very long since I only shave my legs approximately 4 times a year. This saves me a lot of time.

45. Automatic or do you drive a stick? I'm not too good at driving the stick. (That's what he said.)

46. Cake or ice cream? Yes, please. If forced to choose, cake always wins.

47. Are you self-conscious? Yep.

48. Have you ever drank so much you threw up? That's an affirmative.

49. Have you ever given money to a beggar? Yes, and I've given them soup, doughnuts, pizza and burgers.

50. Have you been in love? Thankfully, YES!

51. Where do you wish you were? Playing with Jojo and Mr. Squirrel in the park across from his aunt's canal house in Amsterdam.

52. Are you wearing socks? Yes...uber cute socks my dad gave me for Christmas.
53. Have you ever ridden in an ambulance? No.

54. Can you tango? I can do the straight arm dance part...that's the right dance, right? Probably better than Master P but not as well as Joey Lawrence.

55. Last gift you received? A colorful pair of handknitted socks from my sister-in-law.

56. Last sport you played? Thumbwrestling with my coworker. He won. But then I kicked his ass at slapjack.

57. Things you spend a lot of money on? Groceries, eating out for lunch, diapers.

58. Where do you live? In that house (<-------) in an old neighborhood in a tiny town outside the capital of NY State.

59. Where were you born? In a hospital in southwestern Michigan.

60. Last wedding attended? Uh, let's see...I remember missing out on several out of state weddings while I was pregnant, so I think the last wedding Mr. Squirrel and I attended was south of Chicago for my friends Mary & Jim. I think. I could be really wrong. That was certainly a long time ago. I'm just blanking.

62. Favorite position? Facedown, asleep in my pillow.

63. Most hated food(s)? Eggplant. Blech. I'm gagging just thinking about it.

64. Most hated soda pop? You mean "pop." Let me think... ah yes, Sierra Mist. Blech.

65. Can you sing? Oh sistah, can I belt out the tunes. Not that you'd want to be in the near vincinity...

66. Last person you instant messaged? Isabel

67. Last place you went on holiday? Maui

68. Favorite regular drink? Polar Seltzer water flavored with Pomegranate or Lime or Cranberry Lime. I became addicted to this (no calories, no sodium) pop substitute while pregnant. YUMMY! But if I need caffeine, Diet Coke!

69. Current Song? Better by Regina Spektor... only $6.99 on Amazon and seriously? Best $6.99 I ever spent.

70. Tag 3 friends. You're all probably thinking "OH PLEASE DEAR MRS. SQUIRREL DO NOT TAG ME!" To you, I say, too bad! If you have time, do the meme, but I know it's long ass. Still, I tag:

Stevo, back at the blog again at Where in the World is Stevo San Diego. If you have time between decorating you apartment, that is!

Julie, who feels sweet relief at daycare dilemmas SOLVED, at Dribble and Drool. Yay!

Jennifer, aka, the girl who smooshes people who jump in with her in revolving doors at the Chronicles of Baltimore.

=====

And please, should you want to partake in my latest exercise in Quadrant Plotting, please read this post and let me know your position on JT and John Mayer stat!

Come over here

2007-02-14T12:04:00.000-05:00

and let me give you a Valentine's Day kiss!

Happy VD to all & to all some good lovin'.

A break in the meme for ...

2007-02-13T15:04:00.000-05:00

a spankin' new quadrant! Plotting! Mid-week deep thoughts!

Sorry Lizzy, I'm working on finishing the long ass meme (that I started yesterday) you tagged me for! I'll probably post it tomorrow, if I'm not too busy ~~throwing a tantrum~~ shoveling our driveway.

BUT, after a heated argument with my mom last night, I must query you:

1. Justin Timberlake: "sexy" or "wha? Gross!"

and

2. John Mayer: "sexy" or "oh fucking A no!"

I will then plot said points on a brand! new! quadrant! alongside my preferences and Grandma Squirrel's. Hopefully we can bridge this rift. Remember you can stress just how sexy or not sexy you feel each of these celebrities is so I can more carefully plot you!

Part 1 of Ginormous Meme

2007-02-12T22:01:00.001-05:00

Tagged by Lizzy for this SuperLongMeme...thanks chica!

1. Are your parents married or divorced? married to Mr. Squirrel

2. Are you a vegetarian? negatory

3. Do you believe in Heaven? nope

4. Have you ever come close to dying? yes

5. What jewelry do you wear 24/7? wedding and engagement rings

6. Favorite time of day? oh it's a tie-- getting a happy, morning talkity Jojo out of his crib & covering him in kisses AND laughing, talking and cuddling with Mr. Squirrel in bed at the end of a long day.

7. Do you eat the stems of broccoli? yes, unless they're particularly tough.

8. Do you wear makeup? On the weekends? No. During the week-- if I'm going to work, yes. Otherwise, I'll try to put on some mascara at least.

9. Ever have plastic surgery? Nope.

10. If you did have plastic surgery, what you you do? I'd call up my friend Dr. Youn and ask him to do my nose and suck the fat out from the expanding sack o' fat under my chin/neck region.

11. What do you wear to bed? mismatched pajama pants with a long sleeved tshirt and socks, although by morning, the socks end up on the floor or lost in the sheet.

12. Have you ever done anything illegal? Well, of course, but nothing to blog about.

13. Can you roll your tongue? No. I try, but I'm a lost cause.

14. Do you tweeze your eyebrows? Yes. I'm a faithful plucker. But I don't overpluck.

15. What kind of sneakers? Saucony Grid Cohesion. Dude. I don't like the word "sneakers." Where I'm from, we called them tennis shoes, even if they weren't for tennis. I know. But sneakers? Ick.

16. Do you believe in abortions? Uh, what? Yes. I do. And I believe in the right to choose.

17. What is your hair color? blonde

18. Future child’s name? Ugh, don't get me started. Ok fine, now look what you've caused. If she's a girl, possibilities include Kate, Natalie and probably something else that I'll "OH WAIT I FORGOT THIS NAME!!!" as soon as I turn off the laptop. As for another boy... we had so much trouble coming up with options other than Jojo's name for Jojo, that I'm worried we're going to have twin boys and be doubly up Crappy Boys Name Creek. Some names I like that Mr. Squirrel doesn't particularly like: Josh, Kyle, Evan and Owen.

19. Do you snore? Only when I'm sick and stuffed up.

20. If you could go anywhere in the world where would it be? Mongolia. National Geographics' stories and photos from Mongolia always appeal to me-- the people, the expansive sky, the vast rolling landscape. And yaks. Who wouldn't want to pet a yak?

21. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? Nope.

22. If you won the lottery, what would you do first? Send my parents some Depends undergarments in the mail. Ask them to put them on. Tell them the news.

23. Gold or silver? I like it all, just depends on what else I'm wearing.

24. Hamburger or hot dog? Yes, please. Thanks. Or one or the other... depends-- if the burger comes out of a box, pressed into a puck and unseasoned, then I'll take the hot dog anyday. Otherwise, I'd prefer the burger. Usually at barbeques, I'll eat both because I heart grilled meat.

25. If you could only eat one food for the rest of your life, what would it be? This question is cruel. Who would ask this? Nectarines, I guess.

26. City, beach or country? I love it all. I'd like some of each...but for living full time, probably country or beach (Lake Michigan/MI side, naturally).

27. What was the last thing you touched? Is this a trick question? The keyboard, dummy.

28. Where did you eat last? On the couch where I now sit...ok, I haven't moved. Mr. Squirrel brought me a frighteningly large bowl of cookies -n- cream ice cream smothered in Cool Whip. Deeelicious.

29. When’s the last time you cried? A few days ago when I thought about one of Mr. Squirrel's colleagues who lost his 11 year old son to a skiing accident 2 weekends ago.

30. Do you read blogs? Does a bear shit in a forest?

31. Would you ever go out dressed like the opposite sex? Yes. I kind of do unintentionally on the weekends.

32. Ever been involved with the police? Surprisingly no, what with my penchant for men in uniform. Or did you mean in a unlawful way? That, too, no.

33. What’s your favorite shampoo, conditioner and soap? As of late, anything that doesn't irritate my dry skin...so Paul Mitchell shampoo, Nexxus something or other conditioner (which I'm just using up & then tossing because it inflames flames flames my hands) and Dove sensitive skin soap. Or Cetaphil, if I'm feeling lucky.

34. Do you talk in your sleep? That's what he says. What? Yes.

35. Ocean or pool? Oh jiminy depends. I'd much rather be near an ocean, but I'm not going for a long swim or soak. But the sounds and smell? For sure, I prefer the ocean. But for pure swimming purposes? Pass me the pool. Speaking of pool... have you seen this video from Susan in VA? This made my day.

36. Sauna or whirlpool? Wet sauna please. The dry ones suffocate me. And whirlpools? Too damned hot. I feel like Squirrel Soup.

37. Starbucks or Krispy Kreme? This question makes no sense. One sells coffee and some dry pastries...one sells delicious doughnuts and 'eh' coffee. If I want a vanilla latte, then Starbucks. If I want doughnuts, Krispy Kreme. Why don't we just split the difference and head to Dunkin Donuts?

And with this random question, I must bid goodnight, for Mr. Squirrel awaits...

Yes, I blame her.

2007-02-12T15:17:00.000-05:00

I don't know, but I'm going to blame Amalah. It was HER post I was reading when I stabbed myself in the eye with a knife. Maybe I shouldn't have been using clear plastic cutlery of the knife variety as a coffee stirrer, but spoons disappear the day they arrive in the breakroom, and forks are too precious to waste on coffee. Ergo, knives and blindness.

Ok fine. It was my prosthetic eye, but it still hurt. I really jammed it in there.

Or, I could blame Orville Redenbacher. If he hadn't lured me into buying this Smart Pop! microwave Kettle Corn with his wily good looks and dapper bowtie, I wouldn't be thirsty enough to brew coffee which needs creamer which needs stirring.

Hmmm... Amalah or Orville. Who is to blame? That is the question. Not that I want to play the blame game...

Maybe I should just heed the wise words of one Mr. Jon Hottacular Stewart... "the only people who don't want to play the blame game are those who are to blame." NERTZ Damn it!

Moving on...
So this book I'm reading for my mom's group bookclub turns out to be quite fascinating and fabulous. I recommend you add to the stack on your nightstand. Mr. Squirrel says I'm already throwing around "cunt" far more often than ever before! Just in time for Jojo to learn it!

But seriously, it's awesome. Gee, aren't I going to be the star contributer on discussion night with my riveting observations? Ugh. One of the more enlightening sections so far discussed products used to catch our menstrual blood. Do any of you use sea sponges in place of (evil...trust me, read the book) tampons or pads? Is that, perhaps, too personal a question? Is Orville rolling over in his grave? Uh no, because his ashes were scattered at sea.

Ok, but did ya'll know about this? I had no clue. Apparently, as long as you carefully wash the sponges before use, they work really well, don't cost as much as tampons or pads and don't contain bleach, etc., that the cotton contains in those other products. Not something to try out at, say, Puffy's White Party, but I will admit to checking out the sponge (sea) aisle at Target yesterday.

Another thing I found interesting was her discussion on the influence and effects the moon has on our menstrual cycles and lives in general. Having never paid much attention to it, I've made it a point, at the author's suggestion, that I make a point to notice the moon each night. Just look out the windows, or step outside, and take a gander. Where is it in the sky? Is it full, hidden, waxing, waning? Well, I couldn't tell you a waning from a waxing until yesterday. Waning is when the crescent is on the left, while waxing is when you can see the crescent on the right side. So, last night, the moon gloriously glowed in a waning state in our gorgeous deep blue sky, lighting up the tops of the naked trees in my neighborhood. It was simply stunning.

And then my period came.

Jojo's First Meme

2007-02-11T18:10:00.001-05:00

Lizzy, whose husband graduated in the same class as Mr. Squirrel come to find out, tagged me for a supa-long meme. Considering I'm still working on a meme her sweet son, Henry, sent Jojo several months ago, I thought I'd ask Jojo to complete his first meme and let me start working on the long-ass one Henry's mom sent me. =================================================

Hi. I'm Jojo (<------ see me, I'm over there). This is my meme.

3 Things That Scare Me
1. loud noises like big dogs barking or

2. daddy's sneezes
3. this one time, my mommy was chasing me around our friends' house, and she chased behind me then slid across the floor. I don't know why, that but scared the poopy out of me. I think I might have scared my mommy into poopying herself, too.

3 People That Make Me Laugh
1. My mommy -- she likes to hide from me, then make me come look for her...she's always crouched down, ready to pounce. Then I turn and RUN from her, laughing the whole time. This makes her laugh, which is really my strategy, cuz I'm smart.
2. My daddy -- he likes to tickle me and throw me up in the air. I love that.
3. Cookie Monster. He crazy for cookies. His mommy loves cookies, too-------->

3 Things I Love
1. Reading books.
2. Turning on the stereo so I can dance to some tunes.
3. Pushing things around -- like my stroller, trucks, laundry baskets and riding cars.

3 Things I Hate
1. You know when you really just want more fruit and your mom brings over a cup of mixed vegetables and GOD I hate that.
2. When my mommy doesn't let me play with CDs or their fun-to-crack cases. I will get you some day, my sweet sweet breakable CDs.
3. Getting dried off after a bath. Sweet bajeezus do I let them have it.

3 Things I Don't Understand
1. Why I can't eat whenever and whatever I want.
2. Why mommy doesn't like it when I want to play with the toilet. Or toilet brush. Or garbage. Or garbage can.
3. How GWB got re-elected. What are ya all-- freaking idiots?

3 Things On My ~~Desk~~ Playmat
1. a ginormous igloo tent and
2. an even more space-hogging tunnel [edited by mom to say: Damn you, Ikea!]
3. stacks and stacks of books I made my parents read to me today.

3 Things I'm Doing Right Now
1. Sleeping
2. Clutching a binky
3. Looking ridiculously sweet

3 Things I Can Do
1. Give sweet kisses and hugs, especially to other little people when they're crying or sad.
2. Go for a nap or down for bed without a peep. [mom adding: *knock knock*]
3. Find mommy's belly button when asked. And her nose. And her chin. But her belly...boy is that poofy thing fun to play with.

3 Ways to Describe My Personality [mommy answered this one]
1. Joyful
2. Inquisitive
3. Loving

[edited by Jojo: Ahhh mom, stop! You're embarrassing me.]

3 Things I Can't Do
1. Sleep without my sweet, sweet binkies.
2. Pee or poo in the potty.
3. Use a fork. Why fork when you can finger? [yes, that sounds really bad. But clever. Yet I didn't mean for it to come out that way. - mom]

3 Things I Think You Should Listen To
1. Dan Zanes' Rocketship Beach-- too bad I shoved it in the CD player and now it's stuck and we can't watch any movies or listen to any CDs. Oops. My bad.
2. Dan Zanes' Night Time.
3. Free to Be You and Me. My grandma and grandpa bought me this for Valentine's Day. Mommy says it's because they feel guilty for throwing her copy away.

3 Things I Think You Should Never Listen To
1. David Hasselhoff
2. Kenny G
3. This jackelope

3 Absolute Favorite Foods
1. blueberries

2. green grapes

3. scrambled eggs

3 Things I'd Like to Learn
1. How to open doors with the doorknob. Then I can play with the toilet brush whenever I want!
2. How to open the refrigerator so I can help myself to grapes whenever I want.
3. How to turn on the floor lamps in the living room. I like watching mommy turn them off and on. And off and on. Again. More. More. More.

3 Beverages I Drink Regularly
1. Milk
2. Water
3. ummm...that's it, although sometimes at daycare, they give me juice. But mommy gets mad then and grits through her teeth "please don't give him juice."

3 Shows I Watched as a Kid
1. I am a kid. Is this a trick question? My mommy doesn't like me to watch a lot of tv, although I think it's ironic that she doesn't think I noticed The Today Show on for like 3 hours every morning.
2. Sesame Street (especially Cookie Monster & Elmo)
3. Shrek (my daddy played me some of this on his fancy new computer. It was funny. I liked the donkey and all of the singing. I clapped along to the singing. It was gold. Comedy GOLD!)

=====

Oh, and this is my 200th post! What time is cake?

Deep Thoughts Friday

2007-02-09T09:05:00.000-05:00

I received this meme from Sweet_Lis in an email and decided to share it webwide, since it's quick and ~~dirty~~ easy. I may even tag people, because that's the way uh huh, uh huh, I like it, uh huh, uh huh. You're welcome.

Two Names You Go By (not necessarily in this order):
1. Stac
2. Babers

Two Things You Are Wearing Right Now:
1. tights under jeans because it's FRIGID outside
2. these weird black socks I got that have little orange L or R designating which sock goes on which foot. Does it really matter with socks?

Two Things You Would Want (or have) in a Relationship:
1. Love
2. Laughter

Two of Your Favorite Things to do:
1. Go to the movies (and yes, get popcorn and a POP).
2. Browse at a bookstore with a piping hot giftcard in my wallet.

Two Things You Want Very Badly At The Moment:
1. To have called in sick but have someone do everything that I'm suppose to get done today.
2. Nonsucktacular coffee... I totally made WEAK watery coffee in my Hello, Kitty coffee maker and it's utterly disgusting.

Two pets you had/have:
1. Lexa, stinky ferret
2. guinea pig, whose name will not be released as that's a security question on an account of mine!

Two people who will fill this out (please?):
1. Alison
2. CPA Mom

Two things you did last night:
1. Watched 1/2 an episode of The Knights of Prosperity.
2. Read all but the last few pages of the book I've been slugging through.

Two things you ate today:
1. A rubbery piece of Sbarro's pizza. Blech. But I was desperate.
2. One of those college food service chocolate chip cookies. Ditto on the blech and desperation.

Two people you Last Talked To:
1. The receptionist, J.
2. The cashier at CVS.

Two Things You're doing tomorrow:
1. Going to my friends' grandparents for waffles
2. Driving to IKEA with Mr. Squirrel and the Jojonator. This may be Jojo's first trip to Jersey!

Two longest car rides:
1. Kalamazoo, MI to Atlanta
2. Kalamazoo, MI to Hilton Head, SC

Two Favorite Holidays:
1. ~~Arbor Day~~ Christmas
2. Thanksgiving

Two favorite beverages:
1. unsweetened iced tea
2. vanilla latte with skim & sugar

Oh geeez

2007-02-08T16:24:00.000-05:00

Wow, I didn't see this coming.

Things I Don't Like To Have Happen To Me...

2007-02-07T16:54:00.000-05:00

ESPECIALLY at work:

1. Licked on the mouth by a dog.
No, really.
2. Jumped on by a dog while sitting on a couch.
2. Pestered by a dog to play tug-on-the-gnarly-rope-toy and basically made to fend off the damn thing with my notebook and pen while I'm trying to take notes for the love of professionalism.

Seriously. I'm not really a dog person (gasp!). I mean, they're fine and most are cute and sweet, but I don't like them jumping up on me and messing around near my face. OR MOUTH.

I know what you're thinking -- wtf is a dog doing at your office? One of our employees is blind, and this new guide dog of hers is a tad more rambunctious and playful than...she should be? I don't know. Her previous dog, while much less jumpy, once ate an entire box of Dunkin Donuts muffins. A dozen. I wasn't here when that happened. That's probably a good thing.

And this new dog? Kind of a spaz, which may account for the pair being hit by a car recently. Everyone is fine, but isn't that Guide Dog Training 101: Avoiding Being Killed By Traffic?

Ah come on.

2007-02-06T12:14:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, our new Monday afternoon Jojo-sitter started. Mr. Squirrel came home over lunch to spend time with us and to meet the new sitter (M), who happens to be my neighbor's mom.

M was suppose to arrive at 12:15.

At 12:00 Mr. Squirrel decided to take a dump in our main floor bathroom.

Sigh.

Highlights Lowlights

2007-02-05T11:05:00.000-05:00

Toddlerhood...sigh... we've got us some ups and downs. Mostly ups, after all, or I wouldn't be popping the prenatals. This weekend was no different. And just in time to begin another hectic week, I receive an email from BabyCenter.com explaining how tantrums actually show that your toddler loves you. I must say, I needed to read that email. Even if it's a load of poo, I'm hanging on that with every last ounce of sapped strength.

Here, Jojo snacks on goldfish crackers. He likes to carry the spoon just in case. Always at the ready. And ya see his sippy cup of water? The cup parts are either green or blue, and the lids are either yellow or red. For some sick reason, I am unable to pair the red lid with the green cup. I just can't do the Christmas color combo anytime except during the holidays. That's weird, right? Enough about me...check out his belly:

Woowoo! Haircut Numero Dos! Back in the antique car. Ready for anything! What could possibly go wrong?

Hmmmm... he's not liking the cape so much...

And the pictures end there because the photographer needed to chuck the camera aside and deal with the SCREAMING, SOBBING, FLAILING demonchild. Mr. Squirrel, seated at the second chair on the left of the first barbershop photo apologized to everyone while I shushed and sang and pretty much failed at everything. I was completely ineffective. It was a nightmare. And I haven't even gotten to his actual haircut. The bangs? Frighteningly crooked. We had to stop though... someone was going to lose an eye. And seriously, isn't one artificial eye in a family enough?

Jojo finally forgave us once we hit the slopes. I don't usually appear to have buckteeth. Just in this photo:Oompa Loompa Doompa Dee Do...

=====

For your Tivo... tonight on the CBS evening news with Katie Couric, she's covering a story about the "depressed" city I grew up in. Seeing as they're already putting on the dramatics, I'm expecting the full-court Olympic-athlete-esque press packaging. Help me pick out my parents from the hundreds of hobos living in vans down by the river!

Today the role of

2007-02-04T11:49:00.001-05:00

Hollow Squirrel is being played by...

Pass the cowlnecked flowy shirt and pastel polyester slacks! I'm Dor-a-thee!

Julie, Isabel, Poodle, CPAMom, and Sweet_Lis correctly guessed that I, too, maintain "an arsenal of withering put-downs and killer glares." It's true. I do. I'm a master of the eye-roll (which, unfortunately I let out in full exaggerated form at a meeting on Friday). For those who want a recount, well, um, suck it. This valid quiz, taken twice, netted the same indisputable results!

Sallyacious also picked the right GG, although I'm not sure she meant to, seeing as she admitted to thinking I meant "Beatle Bailey or Charlie Brown" for the Party of 5 axis on my quadrant. Wha? That's one of those things you just keep to yourself and thank your lucky stars you made it on my graph. I don't have any white-out, so you're staying on...for now.

Keep reading and I'll eventually run out of blather and announce the winner of the DELICIOUS Stacy's pita chips, which SERIOUSLY, these people do not spare the spices. Me likey!!

The majority of you (including Mr. Squirrel & his sister) assumed I most resembled smart-ass Sophia. Not a bad guess-- I thought the quiz could have gone either way.

Some of you (can you feel the HEAT from my evil eye burning holes into you? CAN YOU?) think I'm as dumb as a box of dumbass rocks and chose Betty White's character, Rose. Thanks a whole helluva lot. PLEASE. Stop the excuses. Your names have been recorded.

No one said Blanche. Hmmm... guess you didn't know me in college. Ouch! Oh wait, I just zinged myself.

As for the winner... Mr. Squirrel picked the winner from my dirty paws, as Jojo's hat was wet from sledding. Drumrolllllll please...the box o' yummy chips will be sent to POODLE!! Congrats Poodle on your definitive and correct pick, you saucy Blanche, you.

Thank you for being a friend...

All this and FIVE bags of chips

2007-02-02T14:30:00.000-05:00

It's a good time to be me. Yesterday, I came home to this on my front porch:

Hey. That's me. I sent myself something.

No... wait. I didn't. Hoping it wasn't a dick in a box (since Mr. Squirrel wasn't attached to said box, and if you don't "get that" reference, then I cannot help you. You probably also didn't make the quadrant. Am I right?), I opened it up to reveal this veritable cornucopia of FREE snack treats, coupons, awesome sticker & recipes from another Stacy:

And the marketing GENIUSES behind this INGENIOUS MARKETING (thesaurus much?) only sent it to correctly spelled Stacys. No "i," "ey" or "ie" bullshit.

For once! It PAYS to have my name. I no longer wish my parents had chosen "Amanda," "Katie," or "Alex(andra)!" Ok, I haven't wished that for a long time, but "Stacy?" Really? That's the best you could come up with?

Ahem, sorry. Free chips! Free delicious chips! I don't see any Katie's scoring free chips!?

And yes, Frema, I'm so making this dip:

Some of the non-Stacys in the house weren't as excited about the package. Some just wanted mommy to read another book. Here's the Jo, climbing up Mt. Mommy: Forget the chips, ladycakes... read me this four-page simple (dull) book AGAIN!!!

And GUESS WHAT? It's your lucky day.

Pita chip-making Stacy also offered us (non millionaire Stacys) another Free! Box! of! Pita! Chips! to anyone else in the free world!

So it's up to you. Tell me in the comments WHICH Golden Girl you think I am, and of those who guess correctly, I will pull the lucky winner from Jojo's winter hat and have The Other Stacy send YOU a box of yummy chips!! You must also agree to send me your address (NOT in the comments section, please!). Good luck! And you must also heart The Golden Girls with the same amount of passion that I loathe ER.

Who knew

2007-01-31T21:18:00.000-05:00

I was so damned talented at PowerPoint?

Because I received several impassioned pleas to plot them on my (in)famous graph of Deep and Important Information, I've spent several hours creating this updated PowerPoint slide.

Yes. Some of you are STILL. NOT. PLOTTED. That's because either you still cannot follow directions, you don't give a rat's ass and think I'm a shallow turd wrangler, or I missed your comment because HELLO Top Chef finale. Without further verbal diarrhea...

revised Slide #1:

No real surprises in Quadrant I-- Stevo, Isabel and Sweet_Lis are good friends of mine for a reason! And Maya...this chica has good taste oozing from her ass. She classy. Like me! And Jeannette...fine, move on down to Quadrant II, whatever, you have a thing for dimples. I don't see it, but hey, at least you have some company with -r-. Welcome to my coordinate system!

Before I delve into unchartered territory, let me just clear up something about Charlie Salinger. SURE, his hair was a tad straggly and messy, and YES, he wasn't the best boyfriend all the time, but did you forget how poorly Bailey treated Sarah (JLove?). And he was always whining. Plus, and here's my big point, Charlie is hott. He was way hot before he changed his name to Jack, went to medical school, got married, and then survived a plane crash on a whacked out island.

Ahem. Sorry. Please refer to Revised Slide #1 (above...follow my laser point, if necessary). Can anyone see the issue above? As I may have eloquently stated in a previous rant, no one resided in Quadrant III...the Land of Dimples & Death a la Commode. Yet. Now. I see Silly Hily there. I don't know what to say. I think this may be a case of (saying) less is more because I'm just not getting it.

What they don't teach you in Algebra? That simple exercises in plotting points in a Cartesian Coordinate system may, in fact, end friendships:

Slide #5?4? Does it matter?

The Results are In... Are You on the Quadrant?

2007-01-30T20:44:00.000-05:00

I have created a PowerPoint presentation to share with you the results of the all-important Quadrant Placement (also known as "Bailey...not nearly as HOTT as Charlie"):

Let's begin the show...lights puh-lease.

Slide #1: As you can clearly see, two axes lie on this Cartesian Coordinate System:

The 'x' axis ranges from ELVIS to BEATLES. Thankfully, everyone knew who I meant. Unfortunately, not everyone could take a stand & declare their preference. These people are not on the quadrant (except for Rachel who I allowed to straddle the proverbial fence. You're welcome. You've made ... the quadrant).

The 'y' axis feautres the range of Charlie to Bailey.

Do you see me? It's my plotting system and blog, so let's talk about me first. I'm the sunshiney fancy point in the upper right quadrant (quadrant I). See me? I'm next to my good friend, Alison. She's going to argue that she should have been placed further to the right, towards the Beatles end, and I agree with her. Me, too. I tried to plot people according to the strength of their likes/dislikes, but then again, I also watch tv while I do things, so I'm not always focused.
chicken pot chicken pot chicken pot pieeee.
What?

Oh yes. The quadrant. SO, those of you who share space with me in Quadrant I, enjoying the fine tunes from the Beatles and all the yumminess, scruffiness and ok-so-he-wasn't-the-BEST-boyfriend-ness (but still...holy HOTNESS!) that was Charlie Salinger... welcome. And thank you. You're my bestest: velocibadgergirl, AmyW, frannie, Alison, Sallyacious, Ewe are Here. I hear you. I heart you. Come. Sit with me and let's watch some tv together.

I'm happy and not surprised in the weeee-ist bit to see that no one is in the opposite quadrant from me (that would be Quadrant III, naturally). I've met only a couple of people (coworkers) who place themselves in the Elvis/Bailey section...and let me tell you, I've got nothing in common with these people. NOTHING. They don't "get" me. And I know what you're thinking, yes, Britney is a whorebag. Oh wait. No, you were thinking that just before you came to my blog, but YES, how could people not get Mrs. Squirrel. What's NOT to get? I know. But some people...some people, no matter how uninterested I seem with their stories, be it I type on my computer and pretend to be UBER busy and just reply to their annoying assinine stories with "uhs" and "mmms" and SERIOUSLY I have nothing to say to you which is why I never engage you in conversation so please stop standing next to my cube wall every single damn morning and telling me about your stupid boyfriend. Please. See? None of you are that person. Whew.

But -r-? Mr. Squirrel wants to know who you are and why you prefer Bailey to Charlie. Is it the dimples? Are you Charlie-blind and unable to see that he is walking sex (that's trademarked. copyrighted. whatever. it's mine. or so i like to pretend.)? I mean...really, inquiring minds want to know. I want to know (so not mine. I won't pretend.). You're all alone in Quadrant II. I'll never understand your choice of Bailey over Charlie, but since I wouldn't have to then fight you for him and we can sing along to the Beatles together, not to mention you live in my former haunt, I heart you.

Quadrant 4 dwellers...there are many of you, and that's fine. I've plotted, without permission, my bff (Smitty) who shocked me during my Plotting Days (last decade) with her Elvis preference. This surprise (even Mr. Squirrel freaked out when he saw this) made me realize that (a) Elvis must not be as hideous as I believed and (b) I might actually enjoy the company of people who like The King. And I do, otherwise, you wouldn't be on my blogroll and/or on the receiving end of a Squirrel Family Christmas Card. It also helped that I found out that I love the song "Suspicious Minds." Thank you, American Idol, for opening my eyes to this and other important life lessons like... ok, they're escaping me but I'm SURE they're there.

Slide #2: As for the rest of you...

Yes, that's you Isabel and Desiree. You know who you are. Seasons 1 and 2 are available on DVD.

Slide #3: Indecision 2007.

Seriously? You couldn't decide. It was too much? Be thankful I didn't go for my 3D graph. That would have BLOWN your minds. And really... NetFlix will send you Party of Five DVDs. I promise.

Deep Thoughts Friday

2007-01-26T11:37:00.000-05:00

I can usually tell how well I'll get along with someone in my general age category by how they answer two questions. This won't be a shocker for some of you, but I actually used to plot the answers on a quadrant.

Those whose answers placed them in my quadrant, I knew, would be fast and thick friends. Those in the opposite quadrant...well, that's what small talk is for.

And then some people...some people didn't get it at all, and those people didn't make the quadrant.

Are you on the quadrant?

1. Bailey or Charlie?
2. Elvis or the Beatles?

====
Why you should be Tivoing The Knights of Prosperity on ABC:

Esperanza: As a poor little girl in Columbia, I always dreamed of having a pony. A white one with a thick golden mane and a single shiny horn in the forehead.

Rockefeller: That's a unicorn, baby. They not for sale. They's mythological.

Read this post emidietly!

2007-01-25T15:48:00.000-05:00

Last week, I found another memo in Jojo's bin at daycare. I now dread seeing any rolled white paper peeking out above the canister marked "Jojo." Am I being overdramatic here? No.

Cuz this time, it's not the stench of rotting rodents then it has to be the itch of pesky mites: somebody has effing SCABIES. SCABIES, people.

This time, they're alive...and crawling.

Mind you, we don't have scabies yet...but we might begin itching and developing sores in 3-6 weeks! Ah delayed infestation. Now who wants to come give us hugs?

But the good news continues, as on the same day, I saw this notation on the bottom of Jojo's daily sheet:

"Jojo was being a little aggressive towards a few of the other kids. He would
hit them with toys, and pull them down to the floor. I redirect him
emidietly [sic] to do something else! But other than that, he had a good day."

Perhaps they mistook Jojo's style of hugging for Evil Head Squeezing?

Or his friendly back massages for pushing? Wha?

Ok fine. Yes. He was SO pushing him there. But in reference to that first picture (of Jojo, not the mite), that's Jojo's method for hugging his friend Flip.

I'll be honest though. Yes, Jojo is going through an aggressive phase that all children do. Trust me. They do. Yeah, tell that to my friend Alison who stopped by this weekend. I read her the memo and the look of horror on her face almost made me laugh. I know it's not funny, but really, all kids go through this. It's my responsibility to shape his behavior, but I don't think we have a young Ted Bundy on our hands. I mean, would Ted share his Cookie Monster with Flip?

Hell no! Ted woulda ripped Cookie's head off and then run the torso over with his El Camino. Or whatever serial killers drive.

Please excuse

2007-01-24T06:15:00.000-05:00

our hideous bathroom. I mean, REALLY, when was this color toilet a good idea? What would J. Crew call it? Pebble? Mushroom bisque? I call it 'a seat of perpetual disgust.' I digress.

CAUGHT!*

Lucky Mr. Squirrel had the camera at the ready to document this mismatched hooligan in the act of burglarizing his Own! Parents! Toothbrushes! Suspected of previous hairbrush disappearances, this 15 month old was caught with two toothbrushes and a tube of Berry Burst flavored toddler toothpaste. Who knows the devastation that might have occurred had not the troubled youth been apprehended and sent to play with this instead:

Which, ok, it seems like a harmless ball popper, but let me warn you: when the batteries are fresh, this puppy pumps out the balls, and you, the parent, will be diving and scurrying every which way to retrieve the balls.

The toy's description (from the site I borrowed the picture from....and yes, I'm TOTALLY returning the picture later today) reminded me that there are suppose to be five balls. In the picture provided by the manufacturer, I notice four balls. Hmmm...I'm guessing the fifth ball rolled under something heavy at the photo shoot. Or possibly fit neatly into the hole in the front of the subwoofer in our family room. Round up the usual suspect, Mr. Squirrel.

As of today, we have 2 balls left of the original five. Not counting the one forever stuck in our subwoofer.

*Note: LOOK at his pajamas. Yes, they don't match -- they're from different sets-- but that's not the point this time. With the clear discrepancy in good clothes for girls vs craptacular selection for boys, at least I adore the pajamas. Squeal.

I'm it. And you might be next.

2007-01-23T06:32:00.000-05:00

And by "it," I mean tagged. He got me! And by HE, I mean, someone I don't even know except that he's a man, man, and he enjoys talking about crap tv (ah kindred spirits!). He blogs on Vox, where you need a bloody account to even view or comment. Crazy gated community! I found some other peeps I know there, too. Interesting how you stumble into a new world and find others already waiting for you there. Oh my GOD don't let me start a blog here, too. I can't handle the Vox. Or a new password. Trust me.

Anyway, the meme:

Once you have been tagged, you have to write a blog with 5 facts about yourself. Then choose 5 people you want to tag and list their names. Then leave a comment on their blog letting them know they’ve been tagged.

1. I don't like sitting in a parked car. When I get in, I want to go. Now. When we get there, let me out. I don't want to sit around and organize the CDs, clean out the trash, look for your purse or talk. Before you put it in park, I'm fumbling for the door. Let me OUT. I don't know why, but it makes me very antsy; just thinking about it now makes me itch for the handle.

2. I have many annoying stress-induced habits, one of which is hair pulling. I don't like YANK or anything, it's more of a stupid stroking of strands of hair. I've done it for as long as I can remember, and it calms me when I'm stressed or tired. It's not twirling, and unfortunately, it's not subtle. My hair stroking (?) is STUPID LOOKING -- I pull the same section just to the right of the top-- so it's like OBVIOUS and weird-- yet I cannot stop. I hate it when people tell me "you're going to go bald" from it, because I'm in my 30s and have yet to develop a bald spot. And if I do, well, YES, that will suck, and YES it may prompt me to stop, but until then, I cannot.

3. Ok, I'm actually TRYING to stop the hair stroking thing. And my crazy coworker, Dirk, is trying to help. Of course, he's been out for over a week now with his BNBG (brand new baby girl...people, keep up with me), but he's a licensed psychologist and is trained in the art of Stopping Ridiculous and Annoying Behaviors. Currently, he yells "HAIR" at me when he sees me doing it. Which is often. Although he did lay off me at his baby shower-- which is good, because everyone else would have been all "why is he yelling HAIR at that blonde chica...ya know, the one fondling her hair?" His inthairvention was working until he went and had a baby. Selfish jerk. Now I'm back on the wagon. Or off. Or whatever that cliche is.

4. Evidently, I have fire issues. I start fires. Unintentional fires, but COME ON! What's wrong with me & Mr. Squirrel? This picture is from this past weekend. Since then, we've fully cleaned the oven, because at least in this instance, the fault clearly lies with us and our dirty, dirty ways:

5. I've had a crush on this guy for years. And him.

~~~~~~~~~

I've tagged people before so I hope I don't re-tag y'all, I know some of you can get awfully testy. So here goes...I'm tagging:

Abby at Mommy State of Mind
Bethany at Ice Cream Mama
Frannie at The Taysavang Syndicate
Erin at MO Mommy
Angela at On Second Thought

Not quite JB* betrayal

2007-01-22T10:10:00.000-05:00

Has this happened to you? You discover that a friend of yours has a blog. She's known about your blog since its inception but only allows you to discover hers through linking to her site via her comment. Then another friend, albeit a new friend, never mentions her own blog after I send her my link and babble on about my stupid blog. I find it, again, via her comment name/link.

Is that weird? I mean, I wasn't offended or hurt, but I'm just wondering why people don't tell you in a different way. Hey Mrs. Squirrel, what's up? Oh guess what-- I started my own blog! Or, Hey New Friend, that's cool you have a blog-- so do I!?!? Another cool thing we have in common even though I successfully modified my template (unlike you, loser!) and am a mucho better writer.

I know some of you have discovered close friends/family members have blogs in a most unfortunate way which resulted in damaged relationships, so really, I should consider myself fortunate. Neither of them rip me new ones on their blogs. And yes, I'm expecting explanations P and A.

KISSES!

*since CPAMom asked, I'll explain this reference. JB are the initials for a former "friend" who betrayed me in college. She's pure evil, and it took me far too long to realize the knife sticking out of my back. The friends I refer to today, in this post, are FAR from the JB level. FAR FAR from it, especially my fair Poodle, who has been nothing but lovely to me since our first 'date' at Boston Market back in '96.

Too tired to type

2007-01-21T20:03:00.000-05:00

Gratuitous shot of Jojo:

Stolen from Jezer and Lizzy, who also must be feeling the familiar Sunday slump... states Mrs. Squirrel has visited (and most likely scouted out the local doughnut shops).

create your own personalized map of the USA

Your assistance is requested.

2007-01-20T11:14:00.000-05:00

Mr. Squirrel is so confident in his styling skills (and offended by my reaction to it) that he's asked for YOUR opinion on the clothing choices he made on Friday for our Jojo. HOLD IT... he's backpeddling: "I never said it was well-styled. I said he looks cute. I mean, I wouldn't wear it, but Jojo looks so cute!"

Whatever. You dressed Jojo and sent him into public in the outfit pictured below.

What do YOU think?

Yes, the color is correct-- those are pistachio green pleated and cuffed thin cotton pants.

And now Mrs. Squirrel would like to add her own question.

How much do you pay for a haircut & color (foil)? Mr. Squirrel cannot believe that I think $85 (for both) is great. I've told him that at the salon before this one, it would cost me $150, but he doesn't understand. What do you pay in your area? And does your husband/boyfriend, too, think you're nuts?

Duh.

2007-01-19T13:29:00.002-05:00

If I asked you "hey, did you bring your lunch?" would you think that meant:

a. that I'm asking you to join me out for lunch
b. that I'm going out and am asking if I can pick up something for you
c. that I'm just interested in what you're going to eat for lunch

The answer, my friends, is A.

I hate going out to buy food and then bringing it back to the office to eat...especially for anyone other than myself. If I wanted to make a food run, I would let you know "hey, I'm running out to Taco Bell, do you want anything?" But you should know that that won't happen. Ever. Never Ever. Don't you even THINK IT (movie?). Nothing is worse than being in line behind That Customer who digs out The List with everyone's picky, complicated, "and the dressing on the side" orders. All bagged separately, naturally. And the money situation... oh sweet cheeses, I'm getting annoyed (maybe it's because I paid like $11 for a shitacular $7 bloody mary last night (that I drank a full 1/4 of because it sucked worse than that Dustbuster we got for our wedding) because someone in the stupid group didn't put in their fair share, you cheapskate.). I digress.

Plus, I like my hot food hot and my cold food cold. I don't want barely warm fries, and I especially don't want to have to microwave my food to bring it back to the temperature it could have been at had we just sat our asses down at the restaurant. I'd much rather eat there and be done with it, instead of having any trash stinkin' up my office overnight (because the cleaning staff empties the trash in the mornings, sometimes awakening the festering remains of a 3 day old burrito. Olé!)

I don't mind eating at the office if I've got to catch up on my blog reads. But do I want to unpack my lunch in your office and try to chat with you while balancing my extra value meal on your desk? Negatory.

So, next time I ask you "hey did you bring your lunch?" Just say "let's go to Moe's!!!!" That, my friends, is the correct response. BAH.

OH, and note to self: NEVER let someone else use your Hello Kitty coffee maker because you're too nice and say, "no, don't worry about it-- I'll take care of it." The "it" being either finishing the dregs of said coffee and/or cleaning the pot when it's after 5pm and holy shitballs you have to go pick up the Jojo and your officemate will be in on Monday morning to not only a fragrant trash can under your desk BUT a dirty coffee pot, too. So. Yes. No sharing. Again. Ever. GOOD day.

Where's my stapler?

2007-01-18T10:25:00.000-05:00

Too bad I didn't discover this until after Christmas because HELLO SANTA I want this. This is sooo something I would have purchased in my single days, before diapers and mortgage payments. A girl can dream, as you well know, and my dreams include setting up this little cubicle village populated with non-ass clown coworkers.

LOOK AT IT! All the people have three letter names! Limiting the superfluous syllables allows for more work to be done, skyrocketing productivity and revenue! Brilliant.

Who wouldn't want to set up this office utopia & force everyone to attend Tom's motivational speech? Or hang out and shoot the shit with Art? Ok, he does look a tad unstable, but I'm sure he'd happily load the paper in the copier, unlike the secretary here. Even though she sits 2 feet from the copier, and I'm pretty certain that task is part of her job description. She's a tad...what's the word...oh yes BITTER. But she doesn't work at MY (fake) office. Oh no.

And look at their breakroom-- fresh coffee! A water cooler! I bet you don't have to subscribe to some coffee OR water club! Well, I just wouldn't allow it. Plus-- doughnuts! I definitely see doughnuts AND a fire extinguisher which, clearly, I fully support. Ya never know when your Hot Pocket will catch fire and send everyone jolly-ranchin' towards the exits.

In my office, I wouldn't receive emails on my days off marked URGENT that ask who's going to be at the Friday meeting... when we see the same six people every. single. Friday. morning, so why don't you EMAIL THEM YOURSELF and ask who will be in attendance. Just a thought for my make-believe office...

And finally, to promote inner peace (mama needs it), comraderie and good health, I've hired this guy to be our tai chi master...let me introduce Joj:

wax on...wax off

Pants on fire.

2007-01-17T21:20:00.000-05:00

I lied to Mr. Squirrel. He doesn't know. Let's hope he never finds out. I'm already living with the repercussions, and it's not pretty. My stomach aches. I no longer have room for ice cream. Not to mention, now I don't have leftovers to bring to work tomorrow.

Yes, I'm that person. The piggy who tells her husband she'll just eat when she returns from the salon but then hits McDonald's on the way AND then eats dinner at home. All evidence of the Quarter Pounder Extra Value Meal sits in the Home Depot trash bin. All evidence of the 50% of my daily value of sodium can be found in my swollen fingers. So then I get home, and Mr. Squirrel reheats the dinner I cooked for him, and instead of just TELLING him the truth, I ate another dinner.

It was delicious though. The dinner I made for him, that is, not the Quarter Pounder. Usually I love the QP, but while waiting at the drive through (I have to write it out-- that one's for you, Mr. Williams!), I seriously considered the Filet o'Fish, so when I eventually unwrapped it in the dark and bit into it, I thought "who the F put a pickle on the Filet o' Fish? And where's that delicious tartar sauce?" Several disgusting and confusing bites later, I figured out that my mind was saying "Filet" while my taste buds screamed "Quarter Pounder."

Oh people. I'm not bright.

But let me tell you about the yummers chicken I cooked for Mr. Squirrel-- he loved it and confessed to almost eating the entire pan. I marinated some chicken breasts in honey, curry powder, dijon mustard, buttah and a dash of cayenne pepper. That's it. Done and yum.

=====
Enough about me and my expanding thighs. Let's get down to Beauty & the Geek goodness. Did anyone SEE the makeovers? Everyone looked better of course, but then again, how can someone not look better when they toss aside their knickers & suspenders for Diesel jeans? When do the girls get their makeovers, because this chica is damn ugly on the inside.

What day is it again?

2007-01-16T12:10:00.000-05:00

Once again, I'm off, but the calendar says Tuesday.

Five things I'm grateful for...

1. getting out of the house today! My fear of driving on ice and dislike of being impaled with falling tree limbs contributed to the two day lockdown at Casa de Squirrel. Today, however, the sun shone all darn day, melting most of the ice on the roads. Our front porch-- not so much. But Jojo and I played at the cool new play area in the mall and then headed to music class later in the afternoon. Ah fresh air.

2. that I haven't been pulled over or ticketed yet for my expired registration sticker. I just found my renewed one in the little arm rest console and remembered that it's actually suppose to be affixed to the window since most police officers do not have x-ray vision. Although some can read minds.

3. that my car battery hasn't crapped out yet, despite my dome light burning out after the door was left open for several hours this weekend. And let me tell you how fun it is to blindly wrangle a certain toddler into his freezing car seat with the icy wind whippin' in the pitch black because I parked no where near my friend's house, thus eliminating all possible light sources from this enjoyable task. I'm also grateful that the 3000 mile oil change recommendation is just that-- a mere suggestion. Right?

4. Mr. Squirrel's siblings & their significant others. In light of the terrible events of Saturday, at least we kids have each other. Personally, I love and enjoy the company of each one of them. When we're all together, we have the best time (unless an evil entity is present) and time passes too quickly; but, with us living all over the place, we don't see each other enough. I hope they know how much I appreciate their friendship, loyalty and love. This was really poorly written. I apologize and wholly blame American Idol for dumbing me down.

5. I'm grateful for all those who commented last week during De-Lurking week. Thanks for taking the extra time to leave a comment & say hello. Some of you (aca y alla) were some of my very first commenters-- thanks for sticking with me! Others were new and now I have even MORE fabulous blogs to read. And even those of you without a blog, thank you for letting me know where you're from (hiya Mississippi!) and that the tag from MS wasn't a mistake! This blogging bit has been so much fun for me because of the people I've met. Thanks.

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p.s. I'm (finally) doing something with my hair tomorrow. It's not at a good stage right now. I should probably do something different! Any suggestions?

Narcissist, Thy Name is...

2007-01-14T07:57:00.000-05:00

the psycho who married my FIL.

I don't even know how to explain all that went down yesterday meeting up with the evil that is this woman. I'd already gone against my vow to stop trying. Mr. Squirrel and I sent flowers to their new home at the beginning of the year. We drove over 2 hours to visit and, in our opinion, try again to make this a family.

As my brother-in-law, his wife, Mr. Squirrel, Jojo and I drove into their driveway, she was driving out and barely glanced at us. Because she had to walk the dogs in a nearby park. For an hour and a half... most of it in the pitch dark of a New England winter evening.

Because the back story of this women's antics in our lives blackens my core, shocks all rational people, and causes mass eruptions of obscenities from my mouth, I will try to contain the retelling of the evening in a series of quotes by the EvilOne herself.

1. (silence). Who said "silence speaks volumes?" Because that was her response when Mr. Squirrel walked into the front hall to greet her when she returned from her 1.5 hour absence (those dogs! They need walkin! And apparently, several glasses of wine.). Mr. Squirrel and I haven't seen her in 14 months. Oh, and when we were leaving at the end of the night, she looked towards Mr. Squirrel, turned towards their car, and got in. No goodbye either.

2. "A plug? You'll never be able to learn. You'll be all mumblemumbleblahblah." These were her first words to Jojo! Yes. Imagine the warmth and connection I felt for her upon hearing her speak to innocent and lovely Jojo in this condescending and judgmental manner. I mean, she should know, having no children... I think my reaction (in the other room) sounded a lot like "Are you FUCK.ING. kidding me?" at which point my brother-in-law said "tell me when you want to leave."

Oh it only gets better.

3. "You've made me another poem." Her reaction when my sister-in-law knitted her a scarf. Now, let me prep you by saying that my sister-in-law knits like no other. She's gifted. It's what she does when she's not sleeping. All the time. Every day. The scarves she knitted for Mr. Squirrel's sister and me this year are incredibly ornate and delicate-- beautiful green yarns with beads. I should take a picture because the scarf is exquisite and perfectly made. The scarf she knit for the EvilOne, on the other hand, was straight up knit stitched into the shortest possible scarf one could knit for an adult. Ok, but back to the quote-- the EvilOne loves poetry-- especially forcing others to listen to her recite poetry or forcing people to bring poetry to recite. I find it pretentious and annoying, as do the rest of us kids. The fact that she likened my SIL's knitting to a poem caused immediate and uncontrollable eye rolling with accidental uncontrollable neck and back swaying from the sheer ridiculousness and pretentiousness (made that up! suck it!) of it. But the best part came when she then tied the "gorgeous" scarf around her dog's neck.

4. "Well, I'm european. The language. The people. The food. The culture. Everything." Reasons why she is more comfortable in europe than in the United States. She and my FIL just returned from a year there. Mr. Squirrel, digging deep to appear interested and make peace (and after being snubbed in his attempt to greet her at the door) asked her how her time was in europe. When she snootily replied "I'm more comfortable there," he asked why. Her response: "Because I'm more comfortable there." And like Mrs. Squirrel on a Boston Creme, Mr. Squirrel's teeth bared from the sides of his tight lips (something I've only seen maybe once before) and he tensely inquired again, "but what makes you comfortable?" because, as he claimed later, "she was being evasive and pretentious!" So she said the quote I led with. To which Mr. Squirrel (who seriously, I've now seen him actively rude to 2 people ever) said, "but I thought you didn't know French." Huffily, EvilOne snorted back, "I was fluent when I was 19! I lived there and my parents had a summer home in (some pretentious village, no doubt)." And then one of us, overcome by the awkwardness, started a fire or something to ease the tension because holy kaaaasmolies, it was tense. And the best part is that we all remember her complaining about having to go to europe (France) because she didn't know the language. hmmm. And really... you're from Great Britain, you didn't make a break for the US for political asylum or to save your poor, starving family. So. Go. Back.

5. "They're attacking me." Overheard by my brother-in-law when EvilOne pulled aside my FIL on his way back from the bathroom. Located just around the corner from our table, my FIL's (annoyed) reactions were visible from my seat and audible from my brother-in-law's. Why? Why were we being so MALICIOUS? Because on more than one occasion, those of us (heathens) who ordered the flesh of dead animals offered a piece to her... to try! And we weren't LISTENING or remembering that she's a vegetarian ("except for fish" -- why is that ok? Dillhole.). Maybe, your selfcenteredship, because um...let's see... the HUGE table and terrible acoustics and fact that NOT EVERYTHING CENTERS AROUND YOU caused us to miss hearing you say "no, I'm a vegetarian" once or twice. What the six of us were actually doing was trying to be inclusive and share with you our delicious meals, since that's what our family does. Even if it's the best damn thai bbq filet mignon brouchettes and you're the most godawful women I've ever had the misfortune to have in my life (even more so than Janene! Yes, seriously.), we all tried to include you in this tradition. Had I known you were a vegetarian during the appetizer course, I probably would have offered you a taste of my delicious asparagus soup, but then again, you probably would pull my FIL away from those of us who have seen him a handful of times this year to whine that his daughter-in-law is trying to make your urine stink.
And with that, I must close, because I could go on. You wouldn't have believed it. At some points during the Ride Home Recap (thankfully Jojo slept through the tirades), one of us wondered aloud if this was just a practical joke? A nightmare? No, it MUST be some bad bad joke.

6. "Why didn't you call us immediately?" This woman has a pair of steel balls, people. STEEL BALLS. Which must have been to replace her heart and soul. My brother-in-law cracked a rib last week, and because she favorites him (because he plays along with her only because he actively enjoys listening to psychos), she played Concerned Family Member and gushed out this question. Which is RICH, people, rich. Do you know WHY? Because back in July, while she and my FIL were traveling in a not-so-developed country at one of his work conferences, he suffered some massive health problems requiring him to stay in a (not so posh) hospital for 3 days before being emergency flown back to their european home base to another (much better) hospital. In total, my FIL was hospitalized for almost a month-- while he's healed now, doctors at first didn't know whether he would end up paralyzed or live at all. It was traumatic and scary. I mean, when we found out six days after his initial hospitalization when one of Mr. Squirrel's aunts noticed that we (ALL of his children) were left off of EvilOne's "FIL's health update!" email message to her brother, FIL's brothers/sisters, HER friends, etc... The aunt forwarded it, innocently, saying "saw you were left off this message-- in case you didn't know the latest!" Uh, we were scared, shocked and stunned. SIX DAYS he'd been in severe pain, close to death or paralysis in a foreign, substandard hospital... without us even knowing. But don't worry, she called us eventually. Oh wait, that's right. She didn't. Well, she DID call her favorite (my BIL) two weeks into it to talk about how difficult this has been for her and to casually mention that they needed $20,000 or my FIL would be kicked out of the hospital the next day... but other than that, no effort to contact us -- his children and spouses. None. What if he had died? What then?

If ya can't tell, I'm still angry. FIL deserves more. My husband, his siblings and the rest of us want him to be happy and cared for. That's all... and we used to just complain about her but then say, "but you know what? He's happy. And that's what's important." Well, that doesn't appear to be the case anymore. And his health? Suffering greatly since her arrival in his life. She's sucking the life force from him. Can we save him and how? And can you frigging believe it?

Good News Blogging

2007-01-12T12:04:00.001-05:00

Ok FINALLY, I can say: CONGRATULATIONS to my dear friend, Sweets, on her engagement! YAY! Take time to delurk & wish this fantastic, sassy female all the best in sporting shiny diamonds, receiving screams of well-wishes, wedding planning advice & the, of course, the ever after! :) David, you've snagged "a TOTAL catch" (how Mr. Squirrel refers to Sweets.).

Continuing the good news theme, I'm eagerly awaiting word from my crazy coworker on the birth of his baby girl! And a big ol' shout out to his gorgeous wife-- may your labor be quick & as painfree as possible! PUSH!

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Veering off the good news theme into truly shallow and mucky waters... not so good news on Beauty and the Geek, the show I love to hate.

My favorite girl contestant (Sheree) was sent packing. Why did I like her? Probably because she didn't really need to be in the house-- in the short time she was there, she proved herself to be articulate, hard-working and smart. Can you tell I hearted her? With that said, I'm pissed at the weak 'beauty' who nominated the two brunettes in a total high school Mean Girls move. Booo to you. And Sheree's geek partner? He could have so used a lifetime in the house learning some social skills. Dude. Seriously.

So that leaves three moronic, vacant women (I'm talking to you, you and you), one bitchy brunette who isn't nice to her geek (hello? He's SCARED of social situations; quit yelling at him!), and two easily intimidated blondes who will be successful if they just score ~~some~~ any self-esteem.

As for the men, at least one of the geeks is faking it (see Nate, below). I don't think he lacks the social skills deemed necessary to be in the house (and the running for $250k). Yes, you dress funny and sing songs about Star Wars in a band, but you so intentionally chose this outfit to be "different." Clearly, it's attention-seeking, not plain geekihood. Boring. Let me predict something: during next week's makeover show, your beard will be shaved, you'll get some hip clothing, and you'll be a hottie.

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And now we arrive at the inevitable bitter news of the day: our weekend plans. People. Remember this person? We get to see her tomorrow. Serenity now.

Mr. Squirrel Started the Fire!

2007-01-11T11:27:00.000-05:00

Remember the Unfortunate Hot Pocket Incident of 2006? Maybe you don't because you're too busy laughing at my expense, what with the falling and the peeing... not that I'm bitter. I would laugh, too, if it didn't hurt so much. sigh.

Well, we in the Squirrel family usher in a whole new level of hottness with the Hot White Light GloveBox Conflagration of 2007. Say what? Say this: Mr. Squirrel called from work yesterday evening to report that he'd be even later arriving home because he, too, started a fire at work! See? We're meant to be together!

His, too, happened in a box (albeit, not a malfunctioning microwave) and warranted emergency crews to help douse the flames. Of course, he had to one-up me with his whole "bright white light of magnesium" and "other chemical speak" and large portions of today spent recounting what happened and what could be done differently next time (next time?) with various managers and safety czars.

Poor Mr. Squirrel. After my fire, I smelled only faintly of burnt Pocket and embarrassment; he, unfortunately for everyone, stunk of solvent.

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Other news from the I Forgot To Tell You This Earlier file:

My father, you know the one who threw away my childhood memories like a steaming sack of cat poop? Well, he kind of redeemed himself by getting back my Annie album. Apparently, as soon as he hung up the phone after the ugly conversation where I went apeshit on him for giving away my favorite childhood records, he immediately beat feet to the used record store and told the owner how his daughter freaked on him about the album. I guess the guy was like "take it! I'll never sell it" and now, I'm the proud re-owner of my old Annie album. Except... my memories aren't too... how do I say this nicely about myself... based in reality... because my old Annie record is from the Broadway play, which doesn't have "Dumb Dog" or" Sandy." All this time I was mis-remembering and whining about the Broadway album (with a totally boring story on the interior) as opposed to the wicked awesome movie version. But still. My dad rocks & loves me!

Who doesn't love me? Wellll this is up for debate. Although past behavior does include giving birth to me, bestowing upon me massive amounts of hugs and kisses, baking me amazing chocolate chip cookies, dressing me in Esprit outfits (80s, people), gifting me money for college, supporting me and my friends/husband/child and, in general, loving me unconditionally, my mother... well... here goes:

when we arrived at my parents' home for Christmas, all looked the same: holiday decorations out the wazoo, tree decorated within an inch of its eternal life (it's plastic! it's forever!), cookies baked. Mom seemed excited to have us home. Well, she seemed excited to have Jojo there.

Ok, fine, she seemed to love having me there, too, but what is a daughter suppose to think when she innocently ventures into the living room (aka The Room Where We Open Our Christmas Stockings) and sees on the mantle 4 stockings: My Mom's, My Dad's, Jojo's and Jojo's Cousin. Jojo's stocking and Jojo's cousin's stocking were hung in the place where for the past 33 years, the stockings of my brother and mine (? that's probably not right. Sorry Alison.) hung.

To the left of the mantle, hanging on a lower level, yet still hung with care, were the stockings of Mr. Squirrel and my brother. My eyes ventured to the right, where, CLEARLY, I would find the stockings of my sister-in-law and mine? NO! They were crumpled up in the corner, on the GROUND. Totally NOT hung with care! Disregarded! Unloved! The women of the family (sans my mom & niece) were tossed aside now that we'd birthed the Beloved Grandchildren, who deserved the coveted mantle real estate.

Of course, my mom laughed it off and explained that because our stockings were stuffed with many presents, they couldn't be hung because they would rip the stocking hanger off the mantle. Fine. If that's what gets you to sleep at night, mom. Ok. That is probably the truth, but damn was it fun whining about it in front of her to anyone who would listen.

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LEST ye forget, comment or feel the guilt from me throwing myself down the steps again.

Quick! De-Lurk here! I'll be SO grateful!

2007-01-09T15:18:00.000-05:00

Five things I’m grateful for today:

1. That Jojo only cried from being scared shitless when I fell while carrying him down our hardwood staircase today. If he had been hurt, well, let's not go there.

2. That I didn't break any bones, although I think tomorrow I'm going to be on a whole other level of pain, as I didn't have time to ice or rest afterwards. My feet came SWOOSH out from under me, and as I fell down six stairs, I had two thoughts: JOJO and "I hope I can reach the phone from wherever we land" and then all I could hear was CRACK (my head), THUD (my upper back), WHACK (lower back) and DOUBLE-SMACK (both of my elbows). Serious. Pain. Looking at the bright side of this horrendously painful incident...at least it's reminding me not to put my elbows on the table while eating.

3. I'm grateful that no one saw me do it because, joys upon joys, I also bit my tongue and peed myself (during the whack/slam/crack/bam, not like just sitting here typing). Because yes. I'm falling apart.

4. I’m grateful that children can see when you’re hurting and pony up some love. Not 10 minutes after I fell down the stairs, I had to load up Jojo and various musical instruments/accessories for music club. A small group of moms & their kiddos meet each week to dance and sing. Each week, a different mom leads—something I knew going in, but I’ve been dreading. I’m the mom with the least experience—several have been to different music programs or seen pre-school educational dancing/singing games/activities, so I’m not to “up” on fun things to do. With Mr. Squirrel’s help loading up his iPod, I selected the playlist (from our master list of songs) and jotted down some ideas of fun things to do during the songs. Anyway, YES, it was my turn to lead, so I had to go even though I would have rather iced my elbows and moaned and groaned from the bottom of the stairs.

Usually, the kids don't pay much attention to me, and the host's two girls actively avoid me (or so it seems), even though I always try to talk to each child and address them by name. Well, I'm not sure what changed or if they could indeed see that I was hurt, because the girls and one of the boys talked to me and gave me so many great smiles and hugs-- just what I needed. The girls even sat on my lap and asked me to play with them after "class."

Even though all of the singing and leading/explaining didn't help my voice get any better, my spirit got the boost it needed. It also helped that on the way out of their home, the older girl yelled "I love you and wish you were my mommy!" Of course, if Jojo ever says this, please up my dose of Celexa, Doc.

5. That I have a legitimate excuse to beg you to leave a comment—come on! Everybody’s doing it! Leave a comment—maybe even clue me in that YES, you ARE that person reading my blog (or just happening by) from India/the Canary Islands/Mississippi! Plus, I fell down the steps for shit's sake AND just told you that I peed myself. Do what the dog says:

I sound like a man, man.

2007-01-08T13:31:00.000-05:00

Well, I've lost my voice again... so I sound like a sick man. As in ill, not perverted. It's easy to forget this, however, and say... end up at the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru order board thingy saying to yourself "oh SHIT, you don't have a voice!" So, when it's your turn to order, you lean way out into the rain, tighten your diaphragm and bellow like the gnarled captain of a storm-tossed ship "HI I'LL TAKE A MEDIUM FRENCH VANILLA WITH SKIM AND SUGAR AND A CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIE. THANK YOU." Although I'm not sure the Skipper would take French Vanilla. He's a straight up black coffee kind of guy, if I've ever seen one. And I'm pretty sure every few syllables came out as squeaks or were completely inaudible to humans, but because the Dunkin Donuts near my work staffs only incredibly amazing people, my coffee came out perfect. Delicious. But I digress.

I'm still sick! My snot? Still greenish yellow. The phlegm? Present! Constricted chest? Double check. Leading music group tomorrow so I have to organize an hours worth of music/activities? AH snap! Another case of the UnableToSayNo-ohs. Damnit. Well, at least my baritone/squeaky voice will lend a new sound to the singing. Hopefully I don't launch phlegm on the children. We must save the children.

If you don't believe my voice, you can ask Sweets. I just left a voicemail on her phone because she has "big news to tell me." Needless to say, I'm peeing myself that it's The News. I'm not going to spoil it, but I think I know. I think it's that one that you don't leave the message on the answering machine because you know your friends wants to yell and hear the story and weeeeeee! Anyway, Sweets, I'll call you later-- just promise you'll do most of the talking so I don't frighten you with my Barisqueak.

OH, and lest you not understand the button at the top of this post, it's National De-Lurking Week -- meaning, take a minute to say hello and leave a comment all you peeps who accidentally end up here! Nay, ya gotta leave a comment. Or you're letting the terrorists win. Are you that person? Really? I thought you were better than that.
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Totally random weird thing of the day:

On the radio on the way to ~~Dunkin Donuts~~ work, the DJ was asking what is the top question that men hate to hear asked to them by women. One woman called in and said "are those your teeth?"

I don't understand.

She may be the same person who said "Shoes" to the question "What do women, on average, own three of, but men own none." Yeah.

Spring Cleaning

2007-01-06T16:30:00.000-05:00

Because HELLO it's like 69 degrees outside. I had to remove my thin trying-to-be-yoga-sporty-coverthing-but-really-the-damn-thing-won't-zip-around-my-boobs jacket because it was just too damn hot outside! In January! In Upstate New York. Crazy...and I'm sure it's not "good" news for say, the environment, but I couldn't help but smile and skip and braid a unicorn's mane.

Our new computer finally arrived yesterday...suspiciously in our kitchen. When no one was home. Through our supposedly locked side door. We're not sure who brought it inside or how...does FedEx have a magic key? Seriously. We're not upset, just in awe.

So I've been charged with the task of organizing anything of mine that I want transferred to our new computer to a special folder. Things like this:

This MUST make the move!

Case Closed

2007-01-04T10:17:00.000-05:00

I'm weak and moronic. I need to learn to say no and quit trying to be a people pleaser. Three cases to prove my point:

1. Against my better judgment, I purchased a microfiber white camisole with my mom (she bought one in black) to save like $3 on the price of 2. But I didn't want the microfiber one, I wanted the cotton version because most of my sweaters are wool-blends or cotton, and I thought the microfiber would seem too shiny/dressy. Can you see my point? Ok. Whatever. I don't speak up. I just go along with my mom and get the white microfiber. I wore it once over the holidays, and it looked ok-- I love how high the neckline is, and it's very comfortable, but it does seem too shiny for some of my sweaters. That really doesn't matter anymore, however, since when I put it on this morning to wear with my Kelly Taylor sweater (I swear! She wore it once on BH90210. Right, my friends from MN? RIGHT? And yes, I still wear it. I know. Sad.) when I noticed that the stupid camisole was all snagged up in front as if I had worn with it a barbed wire necklace. What the GD SAM HELL? It now looks like shit, and I can't wear it. I'm beyond pissed. I wore that stupid thing once. And now it's in the garbage. I don't think the cotton one would have been so weak, after all, it is the fabric of our lives. ARGH.

2. My wedding: the veil, the jewelry, the photographer. Anyone in attendance understands this point. No, I'm not posting pictures. I'm still bitter that I didn't stand my ground and say NO to the hideous ornamental crap on the back of my veil, say NYET to the hideous jewelry we wore and NEVER to the photographer who skinned us alive with costs and gave us like 4 pictures...even though he's "really well known in the state for his work..." on PORTRAITS. Not LIVE action shots. Like weddings. Not that I'm still bitter.

3. My officemate asked me a couple of months ago that she would be taking on a new part-time gig starting this month, and would it be possible for us to change our schedules. Ever eager to please and accomodate, I said "sure! no problem!" So I emailed her last week to ask what again the change would be and when we'd have to switch days, because I hadn't heard anything more about this since our initial conversation.

I'm a total idiot. Only two days will be affected by her change, but due to my stupid desire to be liked, I have to:

contact daycare about switching Thursday to Wednesday (if they have room);
talk with my friend, Amber, whose son I watch on Wednesdays to see if SHE can switch days at her place of employment, and I'll most likely have to watch her son on Tuesdays;
work on Wednesdays, meaning I can no longer attend the group playdates at our mom's club on every-other Wednesdays; and
drop out of the awesome small music club Jojo and I attend that is on Tuesday afternoons (because I'll be watching my friend's son on this day, then). I love this group. It's a diverse group of moms, and we really have fun without taking it too seriously.

And I swear to GOD if I forget to pick up a hairbrush on the way home from work and have to go through another day with limp, nasty hair, I will cut it all off. Along with my nose because SERIOUSLY stop being clogged yet runny already.

Lost

2007-01-03T21:31:00.000-05:00

Have you seen my brush? I cannot find it anywhere. And my hair looks flat and not so good. At first I blamed Jojo, who hides our toothbrushes in the laundry basket, but sadly, I think I may have left the brush in Michigan.

I didn't have time to get a new one today, as we had guests in town, and Jojo and I are both sick. Mr. Squirrel and I shared an exciting conversation over dinner about my recent hairbrush usage and were unable to determine if, in fact, the brush was packed.

"But I must have used it this weekend," I said.

"You didn't shower all weekend" countered Mr. Squirrel.

Oh right.

It was probably time for a new brush anyways. My best friend, who probably isn't reading this any longer because she's in the bathroom heaving, hated my fluffy brush. According to her, brushes should be cleaned more frequently than, say... once every six months. Oops. It still worked, and only I used it-- so who cared?

So tomorrow I go to work with flat, lifeless hair. Unless you've found my brush!?!

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Is anyone going to watch that new design reality show on Bravo? What with the posing?

What's New, You Ask?

2007-01-02T08:11:00.000-05:00

Well, as my good friend Isabel explains, we've started a blog together!

After tossing around several ideas (so many in fact that I created a spreadsheet. Of course, that's not surprising given my high level of geekiness.), Isabel came through with idea of documenting new things we try this year. Brilliant! Even Mr. Squirrel agrees...of course, I think he harbors some faint glimmer of hope that new and creative sex positions will (like The King) be tried and tested. Or any sex will be had at all. Poor Mr. Squirrel. Anyway...

We're not just going to try new products or discuss what's new and different in our daily lives. One of our goals in starting this joint project is to break out of our ruts and try things we normally wouldn't consider doing due to inconvenience, fear, discomfort, or just ingrained habits.

For example, something I've never done because deep down I consider it a "man's job" (even though I truly try not to conform to gender roles) but which I need to try-- using our outdoor grill. As soon as it warms up (ok, it actually could happen later this week-- thank GOD for global warming...), my fears of burning off my eyebrows with a ginormous KA-BOOOOM gas fireball will be set aside. Hopefully with Mr. Squirrel's guidance and patience, deliciously marinated steaks will be grilled to perfection by yours truly (and then written about in hopefully a funny manner so you don't leave and never return, thereby ruining my partnership with the lovely Isabel).

Another goal of working together is (and correct me if I'm wrong, Isabel) to convince our husbands the necessity of a girls-only trip to Vegas (to meet and work on our joint venture, duh!).

But mainly, we just want to grow and branch out this year. If this gives me the push to get up off the couch, load up Jojo in the car and find fun activities, meet other moms and be a better person, then giddy and up. It will be worth it.

We hope you enjoy.

Bring it.

2007-01-01T19:45:00.000-05:00

2007! It's the year of the Squirrel!

New projects are in the works keeping me up late (so I did actually see the New Year ring in) and taxing my brain-- but all in a good way. Stay tuned for my new blog with a fellow favorite blogger...

Happy 2007 YAY.

Leaving 06

2006-12-31T12:06:00.000-05:00

As we close out 2006, Jojo asked me to share with you some of his latest accomplishments... the ones I haven't had time to brag about what with the holidays and just being a bad selfish mommy.

Yes, Jojo flies. What, your toddler doesn't? Hmmph. Well, I'm sure he/she will someday.

So here goes. The list may not be comprehensive, but I'm positive you will be awed by his many talents and just how much the little pooper has grown.

Jojo points! Mostly at the refrigerator or bananas. Bananas on tv. Bananas in stories. If there are bananas, somewhere nearby lurks my son, pointing and then...whining and slapping at his mouth to indicate "shove those bananas in my mouth NOW NOW NOW!" He loves bananas so much, in fact, that he will attempt to eat the banana through its bitter skin.

Jojo can also walk backwards (and seems so proud of himself for doing so).

He also dances. His repetoire includes three distinct steps: the Circle Turn, the Bounce and the White Tornado. Ok, maybe not that fierce move (I realize I only linked you to the script from this BRILLIANT SNL skit, but shockingly, I could not find it on YouTube. This needs to be on YouTube. Steve Buscemi + mullet + White Tornado = Pee Yourself. In fact, please add "buy & wear Depends Undergarments" to that equation.), but Jojo also does The Right-Footed Stomp. Video footage exists; however, our uploading skills do not.

Besides pushing any and everything (seriously, he gets really pissy when he can't push something, like, say my parked Corolla) in his path, Jojo also enjoys stacking, pulling and destructing (anything mommy builds). The kid moves constantly. No rest for the destructive.

When he's tired, Jojo collects his binkies from around the house and stands by the stairs. Today, I'd somehow forgotten that he'd awakened a wee earlier than usual (4:44 to be exact. Not good.) so he'd need to nap sooner. Since mommy was tuned out, Jojo collected the binkies, came over to where I was parked on the couch (I know, I know), and put his head on my knee. OH the heartbreak. He slept for 3 hours. Except for last night, he's now an excellent sleeper-- going down without a peep at 7:30 and waking up anywhere from 6-7 am.

And the binkies? Lately, he's been depositing them in this festering stankhole. Good times.

Although we cannot really understand a word he says, Jojo does "talk" a lot. Especially when I pull the plug out of his mouth, which I do unless he's getting ready for bed. He also gives fabulous kisses. Sometimes the excitement of kissing his awesome mom is too much and he bites me, but I think it must be genetic, as I like to bite Mr. Squirrel sometimes. Not in that way, just in a DAMN you're so cute and delicious way.

And it's not just me and his dad that he showers affection on. When he saw his cousin (who is 3 months older) at Christmas, he squealed with delight while running open arms to her. Sounds cute until she Heisman'd him. Not to be deterred, Jojo tried several more times to give some lovin', and eventually his winning smile and sparkly eyes scored him a sweet hug. But the camera wasn't working, so you'll just have to believe me.

Let's see...what else. I know there's so much more that I'm missing -- some of it boring (molars), some funny and some just so damn endearing that you'll melt. Anyway, they'll be plenty more changes and developments in 2007, and I can't wait to share them with you.

Thanks for your friendship and support this year. Stay tuned for a new project I'm working on with another blogger...

I'm not a big "fan" of NYRE, so excuse me while I head to bed wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday and all day today. That doesn't mean I don't wish you a happy frappy New Year's! So there! Yippeee. Hear the drummer get wicked, people.

Christmas 2006 -- A Recap (Part 2 of that's about it)

2006-12-30T16:58:00.000-05:00

We spent a lot more time in my parents' basement this Christmas than any I can pull from my quickly rotting memory. More room for Jojo and his cousin to run free and push around several push/riding toys my mom scored from various garage sales and kind people.

But what do the adults do in the boring basement while the toddlers toddle and such...well, PING PONG of course. And sweet baby J do I suck at ping pong. Ok, I wasn't THAT bad. I did beat my dad, after all, although he might have switched to play with his left hand. My brother wouldn't even play me, though. I mean, I could rally for shit's sake. He was just regressing to childhood turd-dom, I swear. Fine.

But my mom? She schooled me. She schooled Mr. Squirrel. She owned that table. I didn't see her play my dad, and that may have been a close match. "Well, what do you expect? I played every day during lunch in junior high."

Oh that's right. I was THERE, so I should have remembered...back in the days when they called middle school "junior high" and I wasn't alive.

Apparently skills such as ping pong dominance stick with you like riding a bike. Her way with the paddle reminded me way too much of this total nerdling from college who founded the Ping Pong club and carried his own personal paddles (yes, plural) and balls in a carrying case. But I digress. I should really be supportive of her success at this sport; and just think of the veritable boon of ideas for Christmas 2007 (embossed carrying case! ping pong attire! personalized balls!).

But what else amused us in the basement? Ooooh well, I should have seen this coming.

My parents' basement houses two cedar-lined chests (I think some people call them hope chests). We don't. They're just the big ass chests in the basement which house some of our family's heirlooms. And by heirlooms I do indeed mean old crap my mom can't seem to throw away. All right, I'll cut her some slack (but not much, because seriously, she showed NO mercy on the court...table, whatever), I'm glad she's kept things like :

her father's 4 year old fancy pants outfit
my baby blanket
the lederhosen my grandparents bought for my brother on a trip to Germany (and which we are SO going to stuff Jojo into someday)
tiny leather cowboy boots that her Uncle Leo (not thee Uncle Leo) gave to her when she was Jojo's age...

but THIS? THIS is what you kept from my childhood?

Of ALL the things from my childhood, you chose THIS?

Yes. It's a head/sweatband. And I'm fairly certain the unfortunate and unattractive manner in which I've chosen to model it is the exact way I wore it in the early 80s. In public. Although I probably had either the Annie perm or 80s bangs to go with the hideous accessory. In case you can't see it quite clearly enough, this grey, twisted sweatshirt material formed into an 80s headband made its way into our "hope chest."

Pair this with these sexy frames from my middle/high school days and you have one HOTT Mrs. Squirrel. Instead of spending days lamenting not having a boyfriend, why didn't I just friggin get a CLUE? As for my hottness, please don't email naked pictures of yourselves to me. I can barely fend off my husband when wearing this one-two sextacular punch:

I realize this is an extremely frightening way to end your 2006. My apologies.

Christmas 2006 -- A Recap (Part One of Many)

2006-12-29T08:27:00.000-05:00

I really thought I would have posted more during our trip to see my family. Several events conspired against me, however, so the one time I did post, I left out oh so much. But it's not too late, right?

The Trip Home
And by "home" I mean, "where HollowSquirrel was born. Where her parents still live. Where embarrassment still reigns supreme."
Last Friday morning at 3:30 am, Mr. Squirrel and I reluctantly woke up, showered and packed the car for the quick drive to the airport to catch the ungodly 6:10 flight to Detroit. We agreed to wake Jojo at 4:15, dress him up in something cute and comfortable, strap him in, then gogogo, hopefully lulling him back to sleep for an extra 20 minutes before assaulting his senses with the holiday hubbub at the airport.

Totally on track and about ready to pat ourselves on the back, I heard the firm and still-attempting-to-remain-in-control Mr. Squirrel announce, as he's retreating from the stairwell back to Jojo's room, "we're starting over! we're starting over!"

Vomit. Copious amounts. All over Mr. Squirrel, Jojo and our stairs. And then all over mommy.

He hadn't ralphed for almost 2 days, so we were thrown for a loop. A smelly and chunky loop at that. My suggestions to cancel the flight were met with the evil eye. We all changed our clothing and resumed the trip, as if nothing had happened.

Once at the airport, everything got back on track. Mr. Squirrel grabbed some grub at McDonald's, and I bought way too much food at a coffee shop to share with Jojo. We ran into a family from Lamaze class; the wife and daughter who I used to walk/talk with until we both were overcome with scheduling conflicts and their move to another village.

Jojo seemed fine-- just tired. We settled into our bulkhead seats, nestled various beverages between our feet and/or thighs, cuddling Jojo between us. Still at the jetway, we decided (because we're *bright*) to feed Jojo some yogurt. Two bites later, Mr. Squirrel cupped fresh vomit in his hands, and I turned into a statue. A wide-eyed, completely useless statue of inaction. A sharp plea from Mr. Squirrel awakened me from my stupor, and I jogged through first class to beg the flight attendant for some napkins as "my baby just spit up..." ('spit up' being a slight euphemism).

With the vomit rubbed in to our clothing and off our hands, the Vomit Family (as we should hence be called) flew the rest of the way to Detroit sans incident. Well, I guess that depends. Do you call a case of heinous gas an incident? I mean, the plane didn't have to make an emergency landing in our case, but hot DAMN Jojo, he set the bar high on noxious butt fumes. Mr. ~~Squirrel~~ Vomit and I played our favorite game of "That MUST be a dump-- your turn! Oh DAMN, no HotPocket this time? Crap!" The boy just shot stank the rest of the flight. And then we landed.

Crabby McStickUpThyAss
Mr. Squirrel awoke the day after we arrived with a sharp stick up his bum. We blame my parents' guest room bed. While it appears inviting and comfortable, this DOUBLE (not a queen, a friggin DOUBLE) mattress and its ridiculously high pillows generate aching and funked out backs and cricked necks (which, for me, parlay into migraines.). Fortunately, Mr. Squirrel's dark and ugly moods rarely occur, what with him usually exhibiting unbounding patience and that annoying thing...what's it called? Oh yes, optimism. So when he DOES get crabby, it's extreme. Or should I say Xtreme.

It was on this day, back in oh, last Saturday, when he felt the need to finish his holiday shopping with my father. Two men who hate shopping (one who is routinely grouchy, the other in an unusual foul mood) set out...without my husband's wallet. So, thirty minutes later, they return to get the wallet. Because my husband, in his uber-crabby stage will not let my father pay for his purchases. I don't get it. Suck it up. Let him pay. Pay him back. Done. But no.

So off they go AGAIN. And even though Mr. Squirrel's stick pricked and poked him throughout the excursion, he wanted to and indeed purchased well over our $50 gift limit because "you've been SO good this year!" ?? People, he like threefolded our $50 gift limit.

But then I realized why exactly he bestowed so many gifts on me. NOT because I was "SO good." Oh no, the splurge eased his guilt. What guilt? The guilt of TELLING MY FATHER THAT I HAVE A BLOG AND THEN REALIZING DUH DOUBLE DUH DUH THAT I DON'T WANT MY PARENTS KNOWING I HAVE A BLOG.

I know. You're as shocked as I am at this blatant betrayal. Mr. Squirrel feigned surprise that my parents didn't know, and I did not feign pissedoffedness. We'll see where all of this leads, but my dad made no mention to me about my blog, so that's a good sign.

Stocking Stuffers & The Best Picture EVER (or at least until later today)
I'm fairly certain these glasses, purchased by my father, found their way into my stocking back in the late 90s. My dad prides himself on silly stocking gifts (and lotto tickets-- this year, I hauled in $11...but then forgot to turn them in. Nertz!) such as a tiny brown bulldog-shaped toy gun that yaps instead of shoots, the trucker cap donning a ratty black ponytail, pooping pig keychains, and Mr. Magoo glasses:

All that money on stocking stuffers could instead be spent on...hmmm...let's see, perhaps a new tv for the basement. One that doesn't need several strips of duct tape.

It's Tuesday, isn't it?

2006-12-26T13:45:00.000-05:00

I don't know. I'm so far off my normal schedule-- I have no idea what day it is. The lack of correctly set clocks in my parents house (either at all or that are set nowhere near the actual time here) AND the lack of snow on the ground just throws me off. Something strange is afoot in the City K. But, well, people tell me it's Tuesday.

5 things I am grateful for:
1. this bloggity blog and the blogging friends I've made. I note this in particular on this date because it's my blogiversary! A year ago today I typed up a little post-Christmas bitter rant and boy did it feeel good to vent.
2. No such rant exists this year, and for that I'm grateful. In fact, I do believe I only need to return one item for Jojo because of the sizing. Perhaps this is also due to our collective decision not to exchange gifts within Mr. Squirrel's family.
3. I'm grateful that I showered, blew out my hair AND applied makeup before heading out this morning, as we ran into two people from high school and were introduced to several of my mom's acquaintances.
4. My sweet ass husband's gift of a brand. new. blog. design! If you have any awesome designers to recommend, please leave the info in the comment section.
5. That I'm able to forgive my brother for being a mean jackass growing up & actually enjoy spending time with him and his family. Although seriously dude, please stop listening to Sirius Radio 80's Hair Band music while we're there. For the love. Because THAT, is unforgiveable.

Jojo

2006-12-25T20:39:00.000-05:00

wishes you a Merry Christmas. Unless you don't celebrate Christmas, then he says "Happy Monday!"

He's feeling much better and enjoyed the day, but not because of the presents or anything really holiday related. The boy LOVES his cousin-- screeching with joy and running to hug her. She's repeatedly given him the stiff-arm, but Jojo remains undeterred.

Tomorrow, for the first time in years, my mom and I will venture out in the early a.m. to lock down some post-holiday bargains. December 26 also marks my one year blogginversary. What a year it's been.

We here at HollowSquirrel hope you had a wonderful holiday (or day off from work, at least) with family & friends.

Totally NOT in the spirit of the holidays

2006-12-21T09:16:00.000-05:00

You know how sometimes you keep your real feelings about a person deep inside of you because you don't want to be seen as rude? Someone rubs you the wrong way, but they're in your life now for the duration, so you try to make the best of the situation?

You try to step into her shoes and see the world from her point of view. You send nice emails to include her in your life and make excuses for her when you get nothing in response. You give chance after chance, and you receive nothing back, not even acknowledgement that you are at least making an effort in a delicate situation.

You're offended on more than one occasion. And then something happens that leaves you outraged, hurt and confused. When you tell people to gauge their reaction (maybe I'm overreacting?), your initial reaction is confirmed-- friends and family are in shocked disbelief that someone could be so thoughtless, insensitive and downright cruel.

And yet, you again put it in her perspective and attempt to be the bigger person. "Well, they were under a lot of stress. Maybe she didn't mean to..."

And then something else happens... another slight that could be totally explained and excused away if it weren't like the fifth time that I'm making excuses for you. In light of your history, the blinders are off. That was a total underhanded, shitty slight that SORRY... I'm not letting you explain away should you EVER cop to being the fucking bitch that you are. If did try to, which you wouldn't, I'd have to finally take a deep breath, tilt my head, lower my chin and bellow buuuulllllllllSHIT!

I'm done. My hands are wiped. I'm sick of being the bigger person. My arm aches from extending the olive branch right in your face yet you pretend not to see.

I don't like you. I don't like you. I don't like you, and honestly, if I never see you again, it will be too soon.

Goodbye.

I feel so much better now.

Grateful Wednesday...

2006-12-20T07:34:00.000-05:00

because yesterday just didn't work for us. I did start a Grateful Tuesday post, I truly did. And I even thought up several things I was thankful for, despite the seven bouts of vomiting, four loads of laundry, two rotovirus-stank diaper blowouts and desperate attempts to entertain and distract my child from begging for food and drink that he would just return to sender. Not that I starved him, but I stood my ground and let his tummy rest for a good hour after his last upheaval before allowing him 5 ccs of Pedialyte every 10 minutes. Whew. Glad that's over with.

Because really,
1. I'm grateful that Jojo shines, smiles and laughs, seconds after upchucking regurgitated bananas on himself and mommy. After the fourth eruption, some tears were shed, but they quickly dried up with a simple game of spin the stacking rings.

2. I'm grateful to work part-time and still have more than half of the week to spend watching my son grow, learn and enjoy life. We play games now, like point and name: Point to the big Christmas tree. Laugh when mommy says "Big Christmas tree." Swing chubby arm to point at little Christmas tree. Laugh when mommy says "Little Christmas tree." Repeat.

3. I'm grateful that Jojo naps long enough for me to do laundry, blog and take a shower. Because seriously, these should not substitute for a shower two days in a row. Some may even argue one day. Those people should zip it. Ok, so these aren't the exact product I'm using...I'm not a friggin moron who uses insect repellent towelettes as a shower substitute. I think mine are "refresher" towelettes...apparently SO POPULAR they no longer sell them.

4. I'm grateful Mr. Squirrel returns home tonight. We miss him.

5. I'm grateful that Mr. Squirrel's brother did not marry his ex-fiance. It's really good for everyone, especially her girlfriend, but for me? I don't have to feel bad about chucking the throw she bought us a few holidays back because the damn thing sheds like the hairest, sheddingist chenille dog in the universe...and washing it because it's covered in vomit? Um. Yeah. Didn't think that one through because holy disgustingness, guess who was unclogging the downstairs skanky tub with her bare fingers because the sheddings created furballs of clogginess causing overflow and disgusting skankness of the cloggy variety. I need a thesaurus. And after two washings, I chucked everything except the blanket (which went wet into the trash) into the dryer, thereby creating the Worlds Largest Lint Ball...seriously. The size of Newborn Jojo. I took a picture and will post it 2 weeks from now when you've all forgotten this forgettable tale. And now, while attempting to fold the now dry laundry, and after inhaling a cloud of finer lint shedding particles from said (evil) throw/blanket that were left to haunt us on the rest of the laundry, I'm heading downstairs to throw this load into the wash again, hopefully remove the remaining lint. Because CHRIST.

barfarama

2006-12-19T05:37:00.000-05:00

The stomach bug has infiltrated our home. Two of us have spent the morning either covered in barf or changing in and out of clothing.

The other? Left for a work trip after starting a load of ~~stinky pinto bean~~ vomit covered laundry.

Gooood times. Anyone know how long these bugs last? Please tell me we'll be able to fly on Friday.

Jojo Shoe Revue

2006-12-18T15:25:00.000-05:00

If you have a baby, I will buy the baby these. I can't help it. It's a sickness. I heart Robeez. They make the perfect baby gift AND serve as the perfect shoe for tiny, developing feet. Robeez also offers adorable clothing now, too. I'm screwed. Don't tell Mr. Squirrel.

My friend, Terri, mother of FOUR girls (within 5 years, I believe) sent Jojo his first pair (thank you again, Terri!!)

followed closely by a frog pair (gift from family...and they're no longer offered. sad.) that looked similar in coloring to this pair (which Jojo now wears since the frog pair is too small):
Jojo rotates the dinosaur pair with the ones below, depending on outfit coloring. My question to you, reader: what is that on the shoe below? It's obvious, you state. They're _______. I ask because here's a conversation between my mother and me when she visited last month.

My mom: Put on his little chick shoes.

Me: what?

My mom: the ones with the chicks on them.

Me: uh, they're not chicks, mom. They're helicopters.

My mom: Oh, yeah, I was wondering where their heads were.

Yeaaahhh. It's not their head I'm worried about.

I must not have heard you...

2006-12-14T10:04:00.000-05:00

because I KNOW you did not just say that you gave away my favorite childhood albums. Dad? Right? What?

My dad actually LAUGHED when I expressed outrage and incredulity at his thoughtless actions. "Why would you want them?" Um. BECAUSE THEY ARE AWESOME AND MINE.

Like this TOTAL GEM:

Mind you, not having the album won't prevent me from belting out "Dumb Dog" whenver the mood strikes.

And THIS ONE:

ok, in truth, I wasn't so sad to hear he got rid of this one when he revealed that I had written a bunch of embarrassing things on the jacket like "Hollow Squirrel is a pro!" in that hideous 4th grade valleygirlesque bubbly handwriting. Thankfully, he Sharpied out my name. And "pro what?" you ask? I think we meant it as pro-fessional. I know. So incredibly embarrassing.

But really? This one?:

Hello? Cute little tiger. Normal-ish looking Michael Jackson. THRILLER. Dad. THRILLER. The album. What were you THINKING?

And this. For shame, Dad! How could you? Ok, so the Captain & Tennille record was mom's, but had I known you were going to sell ALL OF OUR RECORDS for a paltry $12.50 ("oh your records? I just gave them to the guy. He really only wanted the Johnny Cash and Sinatra albums.") I would have lovingly packed them in my luggage last time I visited.

Anyone know where I can score some coal for my Dad's stocking?

Because I'm a Giver

2006-12-13T19:16:00.001-05:00

To the parent who found this website by entering this into a search engine: "my son wants to wear a Speedo,"

I'm from the permissive camp saying "let your child wear what they want to wear." If they regret it later, say at their high school graduation party when you have blown up a picture of the fashion risk and hang it over the garage, then well, it was their idea. How old is your son? My son, at this point in his life, has no say in what he wears, so I get to dress him however I want (insert maniacal laugh). But when the time comes that Jojo wants to wear only green or hot pink leggings, well, that's not a battle I choose to fight. Unless it's bitter cold outside, then I'll force him into a snowmobile suit with moonboots. Otherwise, dress on, son!

Holiday kisses!
HollowSquirrel

To the person who searched for "are chunky highlights still in??"
(Yes! Two question marks! That should narrow the search results!)

I see that you are based in the United Kingdom. With that said, I hope you understand, should you believe chunky highlights are so last millenium, that I reside in Upstate New York...a far cry from the trendy streets of Notting Hill, Harrod's and Sienna Miller (is she really the slut people claims she is? Do tell!). Not that you're necessarily IN London. Who knows, maybe you're up in Mulletshire or something. I don't know. For me, it's not the size of the chunks that make or break a coloring, it's the color differentiation. The greater the difference in the various shades or colors, the smaller sections there should be. In my opinion. Unless you are going for something extreme. Or skunky. Then chunk away, my good chap(pette?).

Tally ho!
HollowSquirrel

To the person who happened upon HollowSquirrel via this interesting search statement: "he dumped in his pants":

Uh, excuse me? Who dumped? Dumped what? And what kind of pants exactly? More information is needed to provide a useful answer to you, dear intrepid internet researcher. I just hope you weren't searching for photos. But this all reminds me of (you know what I'm going to say here, don't you Poodle?) a photo floating around a couple years back of the weightlifter who blows his o-ring and DAMNDAMNTRIPLEDAMN it's the most disturbing photo e.v.e.r. So whenever I send Poodle any pictures or attachments, she's all "it had BETTER not be that picture of that guy's colon blowing out." Now, now, would I ever do something like that? Alas, I no longer have that photo. Or, for humorous purposes, the video of Mr. Squirrel "dancing" intoxicated (to his 'own' music) in a Tokyo nightclub. Nertz!

Anyway, I digress. To you, curious friend, I apologize for most certainly not answering your question twice now!

Warmest personal regards,
HollowSquirrel

Grateful am I

2006-12-12T10:16:00.000-05:00

I'm sick. Blllaaahhhh. I need my mommy. Ironically, my ingrate mom won't drop everything and fly in to take care of me. That makes my remaining Christmas shopping much, much easier, however.

Sorry. Fog of illness. Let me shake it off. Ok, I'm still grateful:

1. that it hasn't snowed here yet. As much as I love a light dusting blanketing our tree-lined street, that picturesque scene rarely lasts long. And I'm not up for shoveling our driveway, especially when my throat feels like someone has shoved a battery-acid dipped SOS pad down it.

2. this new flavor of Cold Eeze (Tropical Fruit) that doesn't make me additionally sick. Although my tongue feels furry.

3. that Jojo and Mr. Squirrel still love me even though I'm red-nosed, not so showered, germ-infected, fuzzy tongued, and just blah. (edited to add: oh yes, I forgot that when I awoke at 2:30 am, I noticed Mr. Squirrel had abandoned me for the silent comfort of the guest bedroom. I SNORE when I'm stuffed up.)

4. that Tivo allows me to fast forward through that disturbing BMW commercial where the obnoxious little boy SCREAMS and goes ape over some Christmas toy. Seriously. Spaz down.

5. that Jojo enjoys wearing this full zip-n-go fleece bodysuit (free from awesome neighbor):

I laughed. I cried...

2006-12-11T09:52:00.000-05:00

from laughing. It was better than Cats (but really, that's not too difficult to surpass). And much better than the cat & (Christmas) tree allergies which reigned something fierce on my nose.

Mercy, did YOU miss a performance last night. Ok. I just laughed outloud from the memories. Spontaneous laughter may have happened a few times last night during the show as well. During the first dance pass, in fact. WELL what was I suppose to do when LilSis and Joseph ran into each other, causing one to fall.

No worries. By some holiday miracle, (and seriously, I might have taken Joseph in to check for internal injuries) no one cried or died during the show. In large part, the miracle was due to the queen sized mattress that served as the "stage." Of course, the mattress also caused several of the trips and bad bounces which propelled the dancers into the couch or into each other...resulting in dancer pile-ups and one very loud, extremely painful looking two-footed kick to the back. Alas, the show did go on.

Members from six neighborhood families jammed the seats in the basement. Snowflakes and Christmas lights decorated the set. Selections from The Nutcracker filled our ears. We were presented with four dance numbers which, as promised in the invitation, included ballet and tumbling. The Tae Kwon Do wasn't as prevalent, but perhaps that kick in the back and other (seemingly unintentional) (damn painful looking) kicks were planned. I'm no choreographer. I'm not going to pretend to understand the hours of creative thinking that went into the making of this production.

Unfortunately, we did not videotape said production, but LilSis' dad did. His commentary should generate some laughs, too -- what with the "OH THAT had to hurt"s and audible sucked in breaths from the kicks, awkward landings and blunt force traumas to poor Joseph. Mama Squirrel did photograph the show (with permission from the performers) but with film-loaded camera (don't even GET me started on our digital camera. It's dead to me. DEAD. Like mice in a heating vent.)

Our fair Jojo found the performance to be most exciting-- standing the entire time on Mr. Squirrel's lap, clapping and exclaiming with great delight at the dancers. After the performance, the dancers hugged and kissed Jojo and even let him jump around with them on the stage. Or so I heard. I was upstairs sucking on my asthma inhaler and sucking down Christmas cookies. Cuz I'm that good of a mommy.

=====

note to self: do not wear a ~~pink~~ raspberry melange turtleneck sweater on days when your nose itches, eyes are red and you may be getting a cold. Cuz it just enhances the redness. Not attractive.

Invitation Only

2006-12-10T08:58:00.001-05:00

Now, now, don't get your undies in a bunch...if you even wear them, as they seem to be optional these days.

But we, the Squirrel family, have been invited to a special, invitation-only event this evening. With great modesty, the invitation describes the spectacular event as a "show."

What kind of show, you query (with a little edge to your voice...do I detect jealousy?)?

"a mixture of ballet, Tae Kwon Do and tumbling, to the music of the Nutcracker."

What? How? Why? Oh yes. That's definitely jealousy I hear.

Two of our neighborhood chitlins have choreographed this special event: LilSis (who LOVES Jojo and says "PEEKABOO" to him like a THOUSAND TIMES at like the speed of sound or light or whatever is faster whenever she sees him) and Joseph* (he moved in this summer-- his mom is the awesome woman who asks (a.s.k.s./requests/suggests/must be loony) that I drop Jojo off for a couple of hours once a week so I can get stuff done for myself. Wha? Yeah. )

But anyway, back to the MAIN EVENT (ya know, that one you weren't invited to). Ballet. Tae Kwon Do. Tumbling. Music. Hand delivered, personalized invitations. There may even be some snacks. What MORE could one hope for?

Our household is aflutter with anticipation. Honestly, I don't know what to wear. And do you think I can videotape the performance? Clearly, this is going to be good.

*Joseph, not his real name, is 5 years old. He's very quiet compared to the other kids in the neighborhood. The first time I heard Joseph speak was in our front yard this summer. All of the neighbors were out (ok, not all of them. The social ones. Who have kids. And aren't addicted to QVC. Or "Murder, She Wrote."), and since Jojo plopped down on the grass, the kids ran over to play with him. And by play I do mean repeat "PEEKABOO" a bazillion times at warped speed. I have a picture. It's uber-adorable. Anyhooo... my friend Mary was just leaving our house, and one of the kids, LilSis, I believe, asked who she was. I said, "that's my friend, Mary." A few seconds later, as the kids are jumping around and being REALLY LOUD, I noticed Joseph rhythmically pointing up at the sky while sort-of screaming (because, really, he's quite quiet) "JESUS, MARY AND JOSEPH! JESUS, MARY AND JOSEPH!" It was awwwwwwwwwwweeeeeeeeeesome.

Memo

2006-12-09T11:26:00.001-05:00

Selected text from memo sent by Jojo's daycare:

RE: Odor in heating unit

When maintenance opened the unit there were dead mice in the unit that caused the odor to come through the vents when the unit was turned on.

Yeah, that's the plural of mouse. Mice. Multiple, rotting, stanky mice.

Thankfully, the room where Jojo plays was not in the pathway of the decay-scented air. But still. I shudder.

Jojo's Holiday Card List Extravaganzaaaaah

2006-12-08T13:04:00.000-05:00

My Jojo is just getting started with his holiday card list. With all of his new skills, such as dancing (round and round in a circle until he becomes unstable and stumbles), pointing, undecorating the Christmas tree and trying to eat through the skin on banana peels, holiday cards fell to the wayside. Understandable.

Should you desire a holiday card from Jojo, please email me at hollowsquirrel at gmail dot com with your address, and I will add you to his list. Jojo promises not to share this information with anyone else. Or sign you up for a two year subscription to TigerBeat! Grrrrr!

Sweet Sally Struthers!

2006-12-07T09:18:00.000-05:00

People! You got all UP in my coworker's face with those comments! Smack DOWN, my sistahs! I loved it. But really, honestly, he's awesome, and one of the main reasons I'm excited to come to work.

But not for that reason.

No, no, emphatic no! He's supportive, encouraging, intelligent, thoughtful, kind and extremely silly (sometimes). After a very rough week with some family issues, I think the guy just needed to have some fun. At my expense. And I'm ok with that because he has been a terrific friend to me.

So, while I thank you for taking my side, giving me excellent retaliatory suggestions (dear Desiree, we are cut from the same evil cloth) and getting all BITCHSLAP on him in my defense, I must stick up for him and say "ooops, I guess you didn't catch my 'isn't this hilarious?' tone..." MY bad.

And because I'm two days late and several dollars short (could that be because I spent those on a vanilla latte, cinnamon crunch bagel and some deliciously smooth hazelnut cream cheese this morning? Perhaps?)...

Grateful Tuesday... now appearing for a limited time on Thursdays-- which I could then transition to Thankful Thursdays, but oh no, the stationery has already been ordered and the Cessna's all gassed up to fly the "Grateful Tuesdays, brought to you by Hollow Squirrel!" banner. Son of a...

Five things I'm grateful for:

1. My awesome-o 4000 office mate! While I was out, she brought in her boyfriend and they rearranged our desk so that I now face the door instead of having my back to it! No more hurriedly closing internet windows when I hear someone padding near! No more sneak attacks from Dirk! It's like Christmas came early!

2. The 9:00 morning meeting on Thursdays. Most everyone on the floor sits in a meeting for an hour...except me. I can, instead, sit somewhere else, worry-free that another coworker will not have to enter the bathroom after me. Too much info? Sorry. I know everyone poops, but still. Did you also know everyone does this? Sweet baby Jesus, is that really necessary?

3. I'm grateful I haven't (yet) ripped a hole in my long ass sweater by bending over, stepping on the back and then tearing a new one through it upon standing. I'm also grateful that I haven't (yet) fallen backwards upon my arse in the process. And (please note the Triple Play), I haven't sworn either! Piping Hot Cakes!

4. But then... I kind of totally swore when I realized that I'd left my travel coffee mug on top of the Corolla. But at least I didn't lose the sweet, delicious coffee made with love by Mr. Squirrel! I'm grateful for that! And Jojo probably didn't hear said obscenity what with the music playing and the cute hat covering his ears. Right? Good Jojo.

5. Ok, now I'm going to get serious. Today marks the second anniversary of my mother-in-law's death. I'm grateful for knowing her, learning from her, and loving her. I'm grateful for her remarkable job raising Mr. Squirrel to be a most terrific husband and father. I'm grateful that she remains a part of our everyday lives in stories, pictures and memories.

i'm uber crabby

2006-12-05T20:52:00.000-05:00

and don't have time right now for Grateful Tuesdays, but I will try to scrounge some time tomorrow.

BAH crabby. grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

Lock Out

2006-12-04T15:21:00.000-05:00

Desperate times call for locking the office door. I had to do it.

My coworker, I'll refer to him as Dirk, will NOT leave me alone today. So far he has annoyed me by doing the following:

1. attempted to tape my arms down to my body
2. attempted to abduct my Dwight Schrute bobblehead
3. teased and tormented my Dwight Schrute bobblehead
4. repeatedly threw a nasty pillow at me
5. repeatedly threw a car-shaped stressball at me
6. knocked over my computer speaker
7. knocked my mouse off my desk
8. took the phone receiver off the phone
9. tried to break my stapler (it's a Swingline-- good luck with that, butthead!)
10. repeatedly knocked at my office door so I couldn't get work done
11. snuck up behind me and turned off my office lights
12. knocked a bunch of papers off my desk
13. pushed me over into my office chair when I reached behind the chair to pick up the crap he threw off my desk
14. ran the car-shaped stressball over my hair, thereby messing it up
15. put me in a headlock
16. created general mayhem and prevented me from being Thee Best Employee I Can Be
17. And now he's messing with my coffee supplies

Seriously people. How can I expect to work in this environment?

To the person

2006-12-02T08:00:00.000-05:00

who found my blog by googling "Laura peed herself,"

I don't know many people named Laura, and I only know a handful of adults who have peed themselves, none of whom were named Laura. Unless that sad woman at the grocery store last fall who had peed herself was named Laura, but all I really know about her was that she wore unfortunate "mom jeans" and rode shotgun in a Plymouth Duster. I'm sorry my blog was unable to satisfy your search needs.

Mucho love and best wishes on your search,
HollowSquirrel

===

I think I'm suppose to be at the gym right now, meeting my Gym Buddy (a woman from my mom's group). In fact, I'm pretty certain I promised her I would go and then take her for coffee. I think I may be fired from this position.

Questions

2006-12-01T16:07:00.000-05:00

Would you smoke a cigar at work? Outside in the rain, leaning on a trash can for support? And just slowly and methodically chew on the end of the stoagie and take your sweeeeeet time enjoying the cancer log for at least 15 minutes? While you're suppose to be w.o.r.k.i.n.g? At a job where you're also suppose to be modeling good behavior for your clients?

Another question:

Let's say someone says they've had the following careers over the past 30 years or so: lawyer, producer (of films), law professor, small business owner, artist and landscape architect. Shouldn't one be able to find some sort of information on that person by googling them? SOMETHING? Don't you think? Am I crazy? I kind of have this inkling that someone in my life isn't all they say they are. If you have any ideas on how to investigate this in an inexpensive manner, I'm open to suggestions.

Happy weekend to all and to all a gooood night without a certain little stinker crying out for no discernible reason other than to get your mommy up and outta bed so she cracks her shin on the damn IKEA bed.

6 Weird Things about Mrs. Squirrel

2006-11-30T12:36:00.001-05:00

"According to the rules...Each player of this game starts with the "6 Weird Things about You." People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own 6 weird things as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose 6 people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says 'you are tagged' in their comments and tell them to read your blog!"

I was tagged by Velocibadgergirl at Pardon the Egg Salad. Thank you, m'dear.

And I feel like I've done this before, but I can't find it in my archives...so if this is a repeat, at least I included a picture of Jojo at the end of it...

Without further ado... 6 Wierd Things About Moi:

1. In middle school, hidden on the top shelf of my bedroom closet was my Duran Duran Dream Diary. Oh yes. Jealous? It was a spiral notebook dedicated to detailing any and all nocturnal stories featuring members of my favorite band. Sigh. I still remember this one beautiful dream involving the tour bus after one of their shows (which I've never been to) and John Taylor. That's all I'm saying.

2. I was and still am tormented by horror movies, including commercials for horror movies. When my parents left my brother and I home alone, he would always watch horror movies -- in the dark. So I either had to close myself off in my room and be alone...at night... and hear the bloodcurdling screams or sit on the couch, behind a pillow, in the company of my brother.

Stupidly, I chose to sit and watch instead of say, crank Seven and the Ragged Tiger. Actually, it was more of crouching, listening and watching through my fingers/from behind the pillow. I've "seen" The Shining several times, but I still don't know what those freaky twins look like because I know well enough not to look at them. For years it took me several panicky minutes to walk the 10 feet down the hallway to the kitchen because I feared Jack Nicholson burying a hatchet in my head. Horror movies I've seen voluntarily in the theater include Pet Sematary and The Blair Witch Project. I'm pretty sure my friends who went with me on those 2 unsuccessful ventures will concur that I'm not fun to sit next to. I screamed. I shook. I was basically rolled up into the fetal position, covering my face.

3. I've never been pulled over or received a speeding ticket. And yet, my husband still claims to be the better driver. Hmmm.

4. I used to highlight the TV Guide over my summer vacations to plan my tv addiction. And that was in the 80s, before my family had cable. So I'm not sure why I needed to highlight...like I didn't remember that TPIR is on every single day at 11:00 on CBS? I read the TV Guide cover to cover, finishing the crossword puzzles and even reading the Soap Opera summaries of the shows I didn't even watch. One day, I remember telling my mom that I was going to start a TV Guide Cover Collection, since I didn't have a "collection," like most of my friends. Without hesitation, she told me that was the stupidest idea she'd ever heard. Mr. Costanza didn't think it was STUPID. SO THERE.

5. My nickname in college was GoatGirl. I can do a fierce goat bleat. With hoofed hand movements. But I look kinda freaky, so I usually turn away when I bleat. I must retain some dignity.

6. I have an artificial eye. No, it's not glass. This isn't the 1800s. It's made from plastic. And no, I can't see out of it. Yes, I have to take it out to clean it (once a month or so). Oh, and it's because of a dirtball cat. Any other questions?

These six people should have NO trouble finding 6 weird things about themselves to blog about:

1. Poodle at Poodle-roni

2. La Turista

3. Julie at Dribble and Drool

4. WordGirl at Half of the Sky

5. CPAMom at Life and Times of a Working Mom

6. SJ at And All the Jones Men

My mommy is weird, people. Weird. Help.

Look There-- to your right!

2006-11-28T10:11:00.000-05:00

A new picture of Jojo for the profile picture. I love that picture. Sigh.

So, how did THIS happen? It's Tuesday! Again. I haven't posted in a while-- I'm sorry! Our Thanksgiving weekend turned out to be a huge success, with lots of fun family time, beautiful weather and tons of laughs with Jojo.

And without further ado...5 things I'm grateful for today:

1. The great relationships I have with my friends' families and friends. I know. That sounded weird, but hear me out. I've known most of my close friends since college or shortly after (shout out to those in Mpls!). As much as I love these friends, I care about their families and friends, too. I've heard the stories, I've spent time with their families, and I've come to care about them, as they are good people who mean so much to those I love. I send holiday cards to some, I cheer in their good news and I mourn their losses. They mean a lot to me, and I'm grateful that my "friends" allow me to care for them, too. For example, last week, Alison visited us along with her mom and sister. Alison and I became friends in college, and I spent several weekends visiting her mom, sister and dad (who once put buffalo meat in our Sunday pancakes. Why would you do that? That's not funny. I digress). Anyway, Alison's mom and sister are wonderful people-- people that Mr. Squirrel enjoys spending time with and even Jojo is getting to know, although we don't see them nearly enough, as they live in different states and/or continents. Anyway, I'm grateful that during their visit to see Alison, they wanted to see where the Squirrels live and catch up on our lives. Laughter, sharing, memories and pizza... a fabulous visit. Thank you.

2. Did I forget to mention that Alison's sister took a pair of my pants with her? To have them copied & tailored into three new pairs of kick-ass pants by her tailor in Shanghai? For $13 a pair? Helloooo grateful Squirrel! Thanks, Stevo!! And yes, she lives in Shanghai. How cool is THAT?

3. Little Jojo...the perfect lunch guest. My mom flew in today and took us to the Cheesecake Factory (for which I am thankful, naturally). Don't tell Mr. Squirrel, although he's probably dining there RIGHT NOW in Boston, so I shouldn't feel guilty for going without him. But back to Jojo. I'm so utterly grateful, as were our fellow diners, that Jojo ate his peas, carrots, bread, mom's mushroom soup, grandma's french fries, the Baby Mum-Mum, and banana without incident.

4. I'm grateful to still have a job after my "supervisor" (it's still undecided kind of sort of who really supervises me kind of...sort of) asked for help with something, and I happily obliged. Then it magically disappeared. And so when I emailed him with "the file," I actually attached an older file or something along those lines but anyway, he kindly called to say "this isn't what I really wanted," to which I replied, "yeah, and it's Tuesday. I don't "do" Tuesdays." But then I didn't, of course. No, I said "WHAT? I'm the PERFECT EMPLOYEEEEE WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!?!" And then we realized he didn't have "theeee" file. So I had him log out, then log in as me. Sharing passwords and everything. He still couldn't find it. So then I had him kick out the nice woman I share an office with so he could try again on my (and hers; it's 1/2 hers, I guess) computer. No go. Where did this FUCKING file go? "CHECK MY INBOX CHECK MY INBOX!" I implored, as I'm a habitual printer/stacker of papers in overflowing inbox. To which I heard on the other end of the line "I think I found it!" Sigh. Relief. Whew. Close call. And I'm still employed (for now).

5. WHICH IS GOOD because being employed means I get a paycheck! To be used on gifts for loved ones at Christmas. And we'll have even more cash money this year because (I'm grateful to announce that) Mr. Squirrel's sister suggested we not buy gifts this year! Yay! Yippee! I cannot even tell you how much stress this takes off of me. Sweeeeeeeeet sally mae loans. Not that my sister-in-law presents a gift-buying challenge. Oh no. She's easier than Sunday morning. But my brother-in-law? Oh mercy. Dreadful to find a gift that interests him. Every year, we get the same bored look after spending hours contemplating the gifts, parking, standing in line, yadda yadda and...yes, not very gratifying. And I won't even mention the gifts he gives. Or my father-in-law. Why, that reminds me of my very first post...a rather bitter tirade after the holidays. But that's not for today. I'm just happy to skip a year. Instead, we're going to meet up in January and celebrate the coming year with a yummy dinner and good conversation... a gift in any family.

Who knew?

2006-11-24T10:40:00.000-05:00

Apparently, you're suppose to use this complex equation when figuring out how big of a turkey to order: 1 pound of bird per guest. Here's some deductive reasoning in hindsight: There were 6 adults at Thanksgiving. Therefore, I should have ordered a 6 pound bird.

Unfortunately, I don't think 6 pound turkeys exist. AND, did I mention I discovered this equation after I bought a 13.5 pound turkey?

We have like 10 pounds of leftover turkey.

And lots of stuffing. Speaking of stuffing...

QUIZ TIME: Please tell me the difference between these two Pepperidge Farms stuffings:

Cubed Country Style: Cubed White and Wheat Breads Blended with Select Herbs and Spices

and
Herb Seasoned: Select Herbs & Spices Blended with White and Wheat Breads

Seriously. Reread it.

What? I thought I was actually going to be getting two different kinds of stuffing, when in reality, one is just the craptacular crumbs that didn't make it into "cube" form AND they attempted to fake me out with a word jumble!! One bag contains the dust & leftovers from cubing toast! AND if that doesn't boggle your mind, I checked their website, and they actually offer a CUBED Herb Seasoned variety. SO, my raggedy bag of Herb Seasoned crumblets are really just the crumblets from the CUBED Herb Seasoned variety AND the "just renamed but HELLO same exact fucking stuffing" Cubed Country Style. What the f, people?

The turkey, by the by,

was DELICIOUS thank you VERY MUCH Lizzy-- who shared her ancient Brooklyn turkey secrets with me and sent me a link (which I followed to the t-spoon because you know how I am about rules/recipes/MUST FOLLOW AND BE PERFECT.) Anyway, it was moist! Delicious! A hit! It was better than Cats!

But back to formulas and food and WHY... why, dear friends, did my sister-in-law bring twenty-five dessert items to a dinner for 6 adults and one adorable bubby who doesn't eat desserts? I kid you not. She and my brother-in-law stopped at an italian bakery on the way and purchased over 2 dozen BIG ASS napoleons, tiramusessses (plural? help me?), and cannolis. And they were huge. Each and every last of the 25. For six adults.

Other exciting developments in the "Fun with Family" realm:

My other sister-in-law and I got in an argument about whether or not Shirley Temple ever played Little Orphan Annie. DUH no. She didn't believe me, though, even after I pointed her to several entertainment websites. And broke out into "Dumb Dog" and quite possibly "Maybe." At the dinner table. Because I'm wicked talented. And somehow I thought if she knew I knew the words (by heart!), then she would quit insisting the (obviously) impossible.

But then, shortly after this victory, I succumbed to something I can only describe as a case of Severe Idiocy when I completely and confidently and royally misspelled the word "pointsettia" in a competitive game of Cranium. I mean, I REALLY BLEW IT.

And it's not like I had to spell it backwards. No, just spell the damn word. This will be forever embarrassing, but I will now let you in on how exactly I spelled it: p-o-i-n-t-e-s-s-a.

Pointessa.

I would blame the turkey, but it was organic. And we hadn't eaten yet.

That's it! Low blood sugar.

It's Tuesday; therefore,

2006-11-21T11:27:00.000-05:00

I am grateful for these five things. No more. No fewer. I know. "Less" sounds better, but...

1. I am exceedingly grateful that my niece's evil bacterial infection is clearing up. Whew. Let's hope it leaves for good and never returns.

2. I am grateful for my husband (yet again) for supporting my work and hobbies. He listens to my problems and offers great advice. Too bad it comes too late sometimes, like "why don't you make it 'Thankful Thursdays' instead of 'Grateful Tuesdays?'" Sonova!

3. I am grateful that the neighborhood kids love Jojo so much (how much? THIS MUCH!!) that when I beg their mothers to watch Jojo for an afternoon, they must say yes or face the pouting and protests of their young.

4. I am grateful that I"m not afflicted with the same stomach bug-aroo that Mr. Squirrel has. Poor Mr. Squirrel! A day on the can... shoot. I should really stop mocking and instead knock on wood. And bring him some water. And a can of Lysol.

5. I am soo o o ooo o o grateful that my mom flies into town next week while Mr. Squirrel is at yet another conference. Grandma Squirrel is the ultimate house guest -- she even cleans her room, washes her sheets, remakes the bed & cleans the bathroom before she leaves. Ridiculous! That cleanliness gene definitely skipped a generation.

Ok fine. It's the week of Thanksgiving... so let me just say:

I am grateful to my friends for all of their kind well-wishes for my niece, K, and for helping me out with ideas for Thanksgiving. THANK YOU. I should probably get a turkey today, right? I hope it fits in the bottom of the stroller.

Released

2006-11-20T16:34:00.000-05:00

My sweet little niece K has been released from the hospital and is now battling the evil, stubborn bacterial infection from the comforts of her own home. Thank you for your kind thoughts & well-wishes. I'll let you know if anything changes, but apparently, big stuffed pink elephants help in distracting children from IV removal.

=====

And now onto the trials and tribulations of holiday shopping. I'm done. No, I don't mean that I've purchased all my gifts. I'm just done with going out to shopping areas. After a crowded and rude trip to Target this weekend, Mr. Squirrel and I decided to conduct all future holiday shopping online. Here's what happened...you tell me what I should have done (that wouldn't have landed us in jail):

We have ONE item but the express lane was long, so we walked up to a regular lane. It was one of the checkout lanes that are behind the front check out lanes... you know what I'm saying, right? Good. So, as I'm about to put my multi-pack of batteries on the belt, this woman carrying like 8 items scurries to the head of the line from the front check out lane (in front of me) and plops down her load while saying to me and indicating to the woman in her former line "she's opening up a line of credit!" all annoyed and stuff... and I muttered "yeah, and I was next in line with ONE item." So she just went in front of me. She and her dirtball husband must have heard me, because then they avoided my evil eye for the remainder of their time in line. Mr. Squirrel was livid, but he, too, didn't know what to do because he was stunned into in-action due to their rudeness.

=====

Upon pulling into a parking space at a playground this past weekend, Mr. Squirrel nodded towards a dad carrying his child back to his car and said "too bad that guy is leaving."

me: "Why?"

Mr. Squirrel: "Because now I'm the guy with the worst hair at the playground."

Jojo's cousin

2006-11-19T20:59:00.000-05:00

K, who is only 3 months older than Jojo himself, has been isolated in the hospital since Saturday with some drug-resistant bacterial infection. Please send positive, healing thoughts her way. I think she'll be fine, but my mother would not assure me that everything would be ok-- a sign to me that maybe this is more serious than it sounds.

Just say some positive thoughts, if you can. Thank you.

That's because it IS pop.

2006-11-19T16:49:00.000-05:00

What American accent do you have? Your Result: The Inland North You may think you speak "Standard English straight out of the dictionary" but when you step away from the Great Lakes you get asked annoying questions like "Are you from Wisconsin?" or "Are you from Chicago?" Chances are you call carbonated drinks "pop."
The Midland
The Northeast
Philadelphia
The South
The West
Boston
North Central
What American accent do you have? Take More Quizzes

An Apology

2006-11-16T11:27:00.000-05:00

for my post on Tuesday. This list deserved more attention, especially the first item about my friend Alison. She's worthy of far more posting space, time and expressions of gratitude than I gave her because I was tired, sick, and feeling pressure from Mr. Squirrel to watch something on Tivo with him. I'm sorry.

And honestly, I don't have the stamina today to expand on that today. I've been sick the past 2 days and am at work now, trying not to vomit from my migraine, putting out fires (no, not the HotPocket kind), and attempting to not pass out from the warm weather + antiquated heating system + small opened windows which in turn cranks the heat = jungle-like office atmosphere. It's moist! It's sweltering! And I'm about ready to pass the f out.

Oh and on the way to work, I saw some jackelopes camped outside the Circuit City waiting for Friday's release of the PS3, and I thought "what would make me camp outside a stripmall for 3+ days, forcing me to fake-window-shop-the-bagels at Panera in order to use their bathroom?" MAYBE the next Harry Potter book, but only if there were a limited supply. It was a stretch. I couldn't think of anything. What about you?

Better late than

2006-11-14T20:32:00.000-05:00

ungrateful. It's Grateful Tuesdays again! I've never held this long onto an idea before. I'm really stunning myself here with all this gratitude and consistency. Whoooo. Here goes five things I'm grateful for-- now with photos!

1. My good friend Alison. It's her birthday today! Yay! Happy birthday!! I love and miss you. Jojo does, too! Jojo loves Alison! Thanks for being such a fantastic friend & coming to see us next Tuesday! We're already waiting at the window.

2. I'm grateful that you're not going to judge me for the ornament I crafted on Sunday nor the poor photo quality of the craft NOR the fact that on the back of the ornament, you can tell that I almost spelled "Christmas" wrong, hence the line between the "h" and the "r." Duh. It's the pressure. I cannot handle the crafting pressure (but Jojo looks sweeeeet, eh?):

The back:

Yes, that is suppose to be a snowflake.

3. I'm grateful for the mother's group I joined. I rarely go to events, but the few mothers that I've talked with at the events are very supportive. One called to invite me to be her gym buddy, as we both belong to the gym at our husband's work yet do not go. So we're going. It's ON people! This Saturday. 8 am. Now someone please find my sports bra.

4. I'm grateful that my husband cleaned this up before I got home last week, because that is some serious devastation:

5. I'm grateful that I have an appointment tomorrow to get on some anti-depressant medication.

Forgot to mention...

2006-11-12T11:13:00.000-05:00

Jojo started the new daycare last Thursday. So naturally, on Friday, guess who had a fever? It's finally gone (crossing fingers), but seriously?! One day? COME ON!!!!

BAH!

Overall, he rocked his first day. The teacher's note said "Jojo had an AWESOME first day!" Yes. It did. Apparently, he ate without incident, played well with others and "put himself to bed" for a 2-1/2 hour nap. I'm not sure what "put himself to bed" means when the youngin' needs to get into a crib. Did he find a ladder, climb in, read himself a story and tuck himself in? Your guess is as good as mine. Lately, though, if Jojo looks or is acting tired, or it's getting near his bedtime, we just say "Is it time for bed? Jojo ready for bed?" and he walks himself over to the stairs and stands there, waiting for us to open the gate. It's adorable.

AND...

I'm heading to a girls' afternoon gathering in a few minutes. It starts at noon...which is a mere 22 minutes away. And I haven't showered. I thought it was like a 2 o'clockish gathering, so now I'm scrambling to print out pictures because I was also wrong about our activity. Normally, this group gathers to eat and gossip. Last time I made it to an event, we watched Project Runway. And really, how fabulous is that? Even if it was a repeat for me, it was great. And usually at these events, I end up lying like a slug (beached whale, speedbump, loser, whatever) on my friend's carpet, facedown, just relishing in the lack of plastic toys, whining and nostril invasions (Jojo enjoys shoving his talons up my nostrils as of late).

But today? We're crafting. With photos. So I'm hurriedly printing photos, which is how I came across this gem at left.

Model: J ojo
Stylist: Mr. Squirrel
Photographer: Mr. Squirrel

9 minutes until the gathering. Still in pjs.

Updated to add: Even though I was 32 minutes late, I was the first one there. No matter how late I am, I'm always the first one to arrive. And, I'm terrible at crafting. Even though my ornament showcased theeee most adorable Jojo photo, it's still rather crappily constructed. Puuurfect for Grandma, as she won't care except that Jojo is front & center. I'll try to photograph it.