God's Perfect Gifts

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Shivering In Sac County

My Man
Being married to Mr. Clairol is a lot of things. It's a joy, because the man has a huge heart, almost no temper and a tuchus that does not quit. It's an adventure, because he is the least self-conscious person I've ever met. He used to wear a red clown nose in rush hour traffic, just for the laughs. And it is endlessly entertaining.He has a passion for PBS and the Documentary Channel, but without fail, he falls asleep on the couch within 30 minutes. I usually try to record whatever has caught his eye, so he can catch the rest of it later. He thinks it bugs me, but honestly, it's so cute, I fall more in love with him every single time.He notices bizarre littl

Ativan Makes Idiocy Hilarious
I just went to make a note on the whiteboard that hangs in my dining nook. It's where I jot down little notes to myself, since I can no longer remember things like my ATM pin. True story, ask Trader Joe's.Anyway...I was going to write myself a note to remind Art to change a lightbulb in Red's room. I know, I tried to fit one more preposition in the sentence but I couldn't make it happen. But then I realized that DQ had stolen my last dry erase marker for school and I keep forgetting to buy a new one.So I went to make a note on the whiteboard to buy another marker....BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!

Realizing I'm Deluded
We're in a weird place right now. On Monday night, my dad had a heart attack. We rushed up and waited, helping where we could, but otherwise, just hovering around the house. Yesterday, he seemed to have several small episodes and the nitroglycerin was no longer helping much. He spent much of yesterday exhausted and weak.So did we. Hospice has said it could be anytime now. But last night, I sat with him and we watched several episodes of The Office. Every once in a while, he'd smile, and all would seem normal. I like normal. Normal is good.So I am stuck. I know this is probably the end. I know it's time to say goodbye, to tell him I love him. But my heart

Posting For Posting's Sake
It seems like time to write a blog post, but children, I got nothin'.*pats pockets* Nope. Nada.I have this nagging feeling that I am writing the same posts over and over again. Like my mother, who tells me the same story four and five times until I finally stop her and say, in a loving voice, "Yep, told me already. Three times. Old sucks, huh?"And then she beats me upside the head. It's nice that we have these little traditions.I want to blame it on Facebook, but honestly, I'm not big on status updates. I just haven't got a lot to say right now. I'd much rather rob an electronics store in Mafia Wars or decorate my far

Further Proof That Strangers Just Don't Get My Kids
So, I'm getting the kids out of the car at the grocery store. Some woman looks over and starts cooing over Red. "Your son is adorable! He looks like a little angel. His name ought to be Gabriel!"Yes, I laughed so hard I almost wet myself. I also choked out, "Appearances are deceiving." I did not share with her how that very morning, as we sat on the couch and watched Dinosaur Train, he gasped and said, "What is that," then pulled his undies down to show me his man flower in full bloom. Or how he purposefully dumped an entire glass of milk on his sister for no apparent reason. Or how he ambled out of the kitchen, eating a cookie I had just forbidden,