Rabbit Holes

My eyes are like hot little coals, boring into my oatmeal mushpan brain, so it’s probably going to be a very quick blog!

Firsts–Roxie’s socks knocked my socks off!! I was the recipient of a drive by soxing on Friday, and I could not be more tickled… I seem to have squandered my one picture on Ladybug, but I’m going to give getting these lovely multi-colored hippie rainbow socks on the blog–because the thought behind them was one of the things that perked me up this weekend and helped me keep the faith:-)

Seconds–I’m not sure if you guys watch Fringe or not–we do. The thing is, there are these bizarre little pictures at the commercial break, and your job is to look at the picture and try to figure out what’s wrong with it. Is it an apple slice, or are there little baby-fetus-shadows in the seeds? That sort of thing, right? Anyway, one of the bizarre little pictures was of a six-fingered hand. The Cave Troll came out for a hug when the six-fingered hand crossed the screen, and the Cave Troll spent the next five minutes looking at his hand, looking at the screen, looking at his hand… you could tell the little goober was trying to figure things out but it just wasn’t computing!

Thirds–My brain has slid down the writing rabbit hole–and it’s seriously hard to pull it back out. The problem with the rabbit hole, is that unless i’m actually communicating by writing, I…well I sound considerably weirder than usual when I’m down the rabbit hole. I tend to talk a lot, and what’s coming out of my mouth usually surprises both my listener–and me. I guess if I was with my regular peeps, it would be no big deal but… well, let’s just say that there are some mom’s on the Cave Troll’s soccer team who probably won’t be hanging too close to me at the game. C’est la vie… I mean, maybe by next year, I’ll be rich and famous and they’ll just figure I’m eccentric or something. (Do you think Nora Roberts ever has this problem? Stephen King? Someday, I’d like to ask.)

Fourths–To all of you doing the blogtoberfest thing? Blog on, sisters–blog on. I seriously was going to skip tonight because, well, I may have mentioned the eyes like hot coals thing… but I figure that if you guys can do this every day, I can do it just once every other day.

Fifths–Kid capsule.

Ladybug–her favorite song right now is ‘Everybody wants to be a cat’. Singing that to her guarantees that she will forgive you for losing her purple sparkly shoes. She also dressed in an old sunsuit and a tutu this afternoon–her own costume discovery. She was gorge-mous:-)

Cave Troll– still sits on my lap every night, and he loves to give kisses. He’s getting older and soon he won’t do this anymore–I want to savor it.

Chicken–I lost my running for the Mother of the Year award today. That old novelty song came on– ‘Nothin’ but mammals’–well, let’s just say I cranked the ipod up in my minivan, and the two of us head-danced our way back home.

Big T– Big T likes to lecture big-boy things to the little kids. Since (Goddess save us all) Proposition 8 is a big topic on television right now (and for those of you outside of California, I’m embarrassed and humiliated for my state to even explain what Proposition 8 is. Suffice it to say that ‘Redneck Homophobia’ is a rampant understatement.) and so Big T thought he’d give the Cave Troll a little mini-social studies lesson on the background of proposition 8. When he told me that he tried to explain the concepts ‘gay’ and ‘bf’ to his four year old little brother, he seemed very put-out that the Cave Troll wasn’t particularly interested. I told Big T that, considering that he was trying to lecture the four year old on human sexuality at, yes, THE TENDER AGE OF FOUR, he was lucky the little guy didn’t tell him to GFY.

I got an abnormal amount of amusement watching Big T try to figure out what that stood for. Ayup– that Mother of the Year award sliding further and further away. Damn. I was hoping for something to replace the broken bowl tchotchke on my shelf.