I don't look that good on paper.

A few days ago I received in the mail a survey that this research company wanted me to take. I get them every once in awhile, but this one was special - it had ten bucks attached to it. Actual money, too. Not some dumb check I was going to forget to cash. Of course, I had to hand the money over to Jasmine so she and a friend could go get pizza, but that's beside the point.

It was one of the most mind numbing things I have ever done. This thing was 18 pages long and was in print this small. There were questions on every subject imaginable. What magazines I read, what airlines I like, what shows I watch, just everything. So after about 35 minutes with this thing I realized something. I don't look very good on paper. Out of a list of like 50 magazines, I subscribe to only three - Entertainment Weekly, Glamour, and Martha Stewart. I couldn't even say I'd seen a Baron's Magazine or a New Yorker in the last twelve months. I was proud to say that I had seen Gourmet Magazine. It was at the dentist office, but it counts.

I bombed completely at the airlines portion of the survey. There were two pages of airlines and I had to check boxes for which ones I'd flown on in the last 12 months. I had no idea there were that many airlines out there. If pressed, I may be able to come up with five names, but two pages worth? I had to check the soul sucking "I haven't been anywhere that can't be driven on a tank of gas, therefore I have not flown on any of these airlines" box. Pathetic, really.

The TV portion didn't make me feel much better. Two more pages of stations and the task of ranking - a. which ones I recieve and b. of the ones I receive, how many hours in a seven day week do I watch them. We get MSNBC, and I do watch it. But I watch DIY way more. We also get CNN, and I do watch that, too. However, I watch The Food Network WAY more.

So if all that wasn't bad enough, along came the finacial section. Do I bring in an income? No. Do I work outside the home? No. Do I regularly trade in the stock market? No. Do I have a personal Broker? No. How many IRAs do I have? Do I prefer municipal bonds over blah blah blah.... Technically, I do have some part time work. But it's hours are so few, and the money so meager that they didn't have a bracket for me. I had to answer no.

In the end, I was reduced to a no job, no income woman who's interests fall squarely on entertainment media and home repair. I don't travel, I don't trade stocks, and I watch more entertainment than hard core news. Pretty sad.

Then I got to thinking, they just weren't asking me the right questions. I could have come out on top if they asked things like -

In the past 12 months, how much bodily fluid (in liquid ounces) have you cleaned up that did not belong to you?

Have you done any laundry in the past 12 months, and of those loads how many were really nasty?

Have you successfully potty trained another human being? *Yes! All hats are safe!*

Have you taught a preteen how to correctly use a tampon?

In the hundreds, how many chocolate chip cookies have you made for school functions?

In the last 12 months, have you ever had to go to the grocery store more than 3 times in the same 24 hour period?

At Christmas time did you make fleece socks for every one of your daughter's elementary school teachers?

You can see where I'm going with this. I may not have been reading Barron's all year and spending quality time with my stock portfolio, but I have been useful.

That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

What have you done in the past twelve months?

Baby girl gets right to the point.

*Smack, smack, smack*
"Mama, you've got a big boob. Why I don't have a big boob?"

Oh God help me.

"Well, when you're bigger girl, someday, you will have big boobs, er, bigger boobs. Not necessarily BIG boobs" What the hell did I just say??

*Tickle, tickle,tickle*
"Hahaha! I just tickled your big boob, Mama! Laugh! Hahaha!"

"Violet, my boobs are private. You don't tickle-"

*Kiss, Kiss*
"I kissed you big boob. You're my best Momma!"

" *sigh* I love you too, baby."

Motherhood- The place where embarassment and adoration meet to kick your dignity out the window.

Back from the depths of despair.

Where have I gone? I feel like I've disappeared in a haze of snotty tissues, empty Tylenol bottles, and puke soaked blankets. The last half of February was rough, to say the least. Winter break came around and all three kids were sick. And boy, were they ever sick. I'll spare the gory details. Anyone with kids really does not need to be told the disgusting details of a stomach virus and a cold virus. If you don't have kids and you still want to know, call your mom. Better yet, call your mom and thank her for being able to wipe your nether regions as well as your nose, all while singing children's songs to keep you from crying. Go ahead, call her. I'll wait.

It's been about three weeks or so and we seem to be coming around the bend now. The noses have pretty much dried and the all the bedding has been washed. I just feel like I haven't seen the light of day in years. That's why I decided that I'm going out tomorrow night. Sitters have been informed and friends have been invited to join in. Truthfully, I'm going whether the friends come or not. I love the kids whole-heartedly, but I am a might bit sick of them. I need a couple of hours away. And I am SO looking forward to some one else cooking dinner, clearing away the dishes and cleaning the mess.

We are on the upswing, though. Violet has pretty much potty trained. There was that unfortunate incident yesterday while her aunt was watching her. The result of too much cheese and a few too many bananas. Sorry about that, Tammy. For the most part it has been ok. And the weather this week was so nice. We were able to take several long walks. One of which was so good that Violet fell asleep at 6:30pm and stayed that way until 7:30 the next morning! Heaven on earth, people. Heaven on earth.

So we seem to have joined the land of the living again. Antics will resume, and I'll be able to record them for posterity. It's nice to be back.