Blue Genes

Craig and I have spent the last three years wondering how we ended up with two blue-eyed daughters. He half-jokingly calls them the pool boy's kids because his own eyes are as chocolate brown as they come.

I thought I had it all figured out from the two weeks we learned about genes in my college biology class. I learned back then that hazel and green are parts of the blue-eyed gene, so a person with hazel eyes(me) has a 13% chance to have a blue-eyed child if she gets it on with a blue-eyed carrier(Craig). Having TWO kids who were a 13% shot is, like compounding percents ...too much math for me. But I'd been thinking we should play the lottery with those odds.

So anyway, now it seems that the old beliefs about recessive blue-eyed genes are not altogether accurate. The recessive inheritance works the same way, but now there's some more juicy tidbits. I'll spare you a LOT of super-smart sounding, scientificy mumbo-jumbo about genomes and the blue-eyed gene, and just give you the interesting parts.

A gazillion years ago, everyone had brown eyes. Scientists discovered a genetic mutation that causes blue eyes, and that it came from one person a thousand years ago. And they now believe that people with blue eyes have a single common ancestor.

Also, get this, people with hazel eyes like me are just freaks in general, because they are a further mutation of the blue gene. Hazel eyes can't decide if they want to be brown or green so they shift around, helped by a genetic mutation that allows them to do so.

So...here is my conclusion. All three of my girls are mutants, and Christian and I are mutants to the 2nd power. The only normal gene pool around here is Craig.

He knew this all along, I bet.

Supermom

Today I went grocery shopping and Caitlyn came along for the ride. I know she's only two, but I enjoy her company a lot. Especially in the grocery store because she loves food, so it's easy to entertain her.

As we go up and down the aisles, she likes to "hold" all her favorite things in the cart with her. Today she had several things piled around her, with a pint of blueberries and huge bag of steamable broccoli front and center in her lap.

So anyway, there we were...walking around in the produce section while Caitlyn "reads" her packages,

"B-r-o-c-c-o-l-i. Dat's broccoyi! I YIKE dat broccoyi! B-l-u-e-b-e-r-r-i-e-s. Dat's byou-bewies. B and B!"

Then she she started counting all her packages as she dumped them in the back of the cart, and asked to go to aisle number 4.

I looked up from my shopping list to a crowd of people all staring at us with their mouths opened wide. Without pausing a beat I said, "Um...yeah. So dat broccoyi makes you pretty smart." and walked away laughing to aisle 4.

Those people looked at me as if Caitlyn was some kind of genius toddler and I was some kind of Supermom. Not really. I mean, Catie's great and all, and it DID make me proud that instead of all the junk she could have asked for, she chose two of the top 10 superfoods to hug to herself. But still...it was just some freak of the space-time continuum that those people happened to see her showing off everything she knew all at once.

I did walk away a little taller, though. Today's Supermom status might be temporary, but I'll take it. Way to represent, Catie!

Best Ad Campaign Ever!

So. Damn. HILARIOUS!



Admit it...that was the best two-and-a-half minutes of your day!  And there's more where that came from...


http://www.youtube.com/user/Sienna

American Girls

Next week while we're in New York we're going into the city and taking the girls to The American Girl's Place.  I'm so excited!  I've been reading the American Girls books for years.  I came once before to the Manhattan store years ago when Jacque and I took a trip to New York City.  It was so cool.  I can't wait to show it to the girls.

I know they are still very young and don't know the difference.  But regardless of whether either of them will "remember" going here years from now, I still think it's important for them to experience life's many joys.

I know a lot of people would argue that things like this are wasted on toddlers or preschoolers.  Some people might think that it's a waste to spend time doing things like dressing up for Halloween, or going to Disneyland, or even going to the Zoo with toddlers. People would argue that they don't get it, and will not remember anyway.

I just think that every single thing you do with your child, from the monumental to the insignificant, has some kind of effect on who they grow up to be. I want my kids to grow up and not ever remember a time when we did NOT do these things. I want them to look back and see photo albums of themselves being a part of our family and a part of the world from the day they entered it.  They are here on this planet, and deserve to really BE here.

So next week we are going to choose Bitty Babies and get photographed with them, and take them to tea.  And yes, it's overpriced for what it is, but I don't care.  My girls are going to have an awesome day and I will be there to remember it for them.

Room 23

This year I am going to be teaching First Graders, so I was moved to a new room in a different building; Room 23.  My principal gave me a choice of several rooms to move to, and 23 was my choice.

There are two things I particularly love about my new location.  For one, it faces the street, and there's a rather large patch of shaded grass outside our door.  I'm pretty excited about that.  And here's the other thing... Room 23 was Mary's room.

Its been more than a year since Mary passed away, and I hadn't ever gone back to her room until now.  I've spent the past few days cleaning, unpacking, and organizing in there.  Getting a feel for my year ahead.

Sometimes when I'm at home thinking and planning for this teaching change, I get a little anxious.  I just really want to do a good job, and I know I can, but I'm an over-analyzer.   When I get to school, though, I just feel calm.  It's like I go in my room and everything gets clear.  I relax.

I sometimes think of Mary as I'm working.  Maybe it sounds silly, but I feel her there with me.  Not in a literal sense, just in my mind.  I remember things she used to do with her kids, and things she said, or advice she gave me.

Yesterday I had this great idea to make buckets of math tools for the tables and call them "toolkits."  I was halfway though putting them together when  I realized this was Mary's idea from years ago.  I'd forgotten all about that.

Today I was sorting though some phonics card games.  I came across a picture sequencing game and I wondered how I could use it with younger kids.  Then a picture of Mary using it in certain way just popped in my head, and I thought...Yeah!  That's just what I'll do.  Then after a moment I flipped the box over and sure enough, there was her name printed neatly in Sharpie, always at an angle, always with that distinctive, perfect Q.  Funny, out of the 10 games I sorted that was the only one of hers still left.

So do I think she was really there?  No, not really.  I don't believe in that.  I believe her soul went on to a better place, but that her spirit lives on in all of us whose lives she touched.

I was thinking about this today and I realized that nobody is ever gone, not truly.  We all affect lives every day in one way or another, and when we're gone, those memories speak to people.  Mary may be gone, but my memory of her is guiding me.

All this year, I've been troubled by worries about leaving behind my girls if anything should ever happen to me.  But today I felt that maybe I would be able to start letting that go.  I'm beginning to understand that even if I did have to leave them, their memories of me would speak to them years from now.  Memories long forgotten would still be there when that perfect time for remembrance came.  Then I would be there, if only in their minds and hearts.  It's something, and it gives me comfort.

That's the lesson I learned today in Room 23.

My Bomb Shelter

I guess everybody has a mental list of things they'd stockpile in an underground bomb shelter.  It's too gloomy thinking about the end of the world, so let's just say...if I had to stock a Biosphere 2 shelter for a one-year human experiment,  here's what I'd include.

I would be SOL because my all-time favorite foods are cereal and fruit. I'm thinking milk and fruits and veggies would spoil quickly. 

I'd have to have a huge barrel of instant coffee. And instant wine.  Oh, what the hell...I can probably just get real wine.

Board games.  Like Life and Monopoly that have a bajillion pieces and take hours to play.

Handheld Yahtzee.

A LOT of books.  I'd say some kind of eReader, but bomb shelter rule #1 is that you are cut off from civilization.  So I guess that includes internet.

Notebooks, to write or make lists in.  And a Polaroid camera to document my rise to Yahtzee fame.

A potty chair with an automatic incinterator switch, cause there's no way I'm bagging anyone's waste for a year.

Some puppies. Can't go wrong with puppies.  And an incinerator for the puppy poop.

Oh, and some food and water and candles and stuff.

I Believe In...

*the sound of motorcycles.

*trying new beauty products.

*helping spiders escape

*letting music lift the spirit

*tomatoes warm from the garden

*bubble baths with wine

*proper spelling

*caffeine highs

*keeping secrets

*making time for chit-chat

*children's literature

*hiding from conflict

*kids playing outdoors

*metabolic programming

*seeking the good in people

*playdoh

*the ellipse and comma 

*positive self talk

*sisterhood

*complimenting strangers

*praising

*giving the benefit of the doubt

*taking a chance

*falling, and staying, in love

*making lists

*sharing my mind and heart
*being happy

Overheard

At a department store yesterday, I happened to be in the dressing room next to a mother and her two daughters who were all shopping for dresses.  This is a bit of their conversation I overheard...

Mom:  Hmmm, I don't know.  I like it, but maybe I'm getting too old for this style.
Teen Daughter 1:  Mom, stop.  You're not old at ALL!  You're beautiful!  And you really look so good in that color.
Teen Daughter 2:  Yeah, I like it.  It's a good length and shows off your legs.
Teen Daughter 1:  And Dad would love it.
Mom (laughing):  Okay, okay.  Let's get it.

Isn't that sweet?  

To My MIL

I just really wanted to take a minute and thank my mother-in-law for raising such a great man.   I have four kids.  I know, really KNOW, how much love, time, and effort goes into mothering kids that grow up to be good human beings.  Her son is the most wonderful husband and father!

He is loving and affectionate.  He's the kind of guy who holds my hand across the car console or when walking down the street.  He's the kind of guy who reaches out to hug me as we pass each other in he hallway. He watches out for me and protects me. 

He is kind and generous by nature.  He will bring me flowers or my favorite pint of ice-cream, just to see me smile.  He has his grand gesture moments too, but he gets a kick out of doing little things to make me happy.

We don't argue a whole lot, but when we do, he is a fair fighter.  He has a way of explaining his side of things and always tries to not hurt my feelings. He would never call me names or try to make me feel bad.  He's not a doormat, though.  He doesn't let me boss him around.

He is a really good Daddy to his girls.  He does all the things that I do, and is a partner in every way.  He's thoughtful and patient with his girls, always putting their needs first.

My husband is the kind of man that all moms hope their sons will grow up to be.   So I just wanted to say thank you, Ellen :)

Class

Last night I went to dinner with Craig's family at The Phoenician Resort's very fancy steakhouse.   There were hordes of classy, wealthy-looking people there.  At one time in my life, that would have made me shrink in my seat just a little.  Because although I've been to many upscale places over the years,  it's only recently that I've begun to grow comfortable around people with money.

I think that discomfort goes way back to when I was a little girl.  Financially, I guess you could say we were an impoverished family.   We didn't have a whole lot of material things. 

We usually had the necessities, but truthfully there were times when we didn't have even that.   I remember hard times when we really had to stretch the grocery budget.  My parents worked very hard and never once took welfare, so we made do on our own.  I remember times when I'd wash my jeans every night because I only had one pair, or times when I'd take noodle soup in a thermos to school every day for lunch, or times when our after school snacks came from whichever fruit trees in the yard were ripe.

When you grow up poor...really poor...it affects the way your mind thinks.  Very young kids don't know any differently, but as you get older an awareness of the world opens your eyes.  You learn that everything other people have is something you don't.  You begin to understand that everything you want in life will probably never be,  and anything you see is something you will never have.  And you begin to question your place in the world.

Some people grow up bitter, others grow up driven to succeed.  I grew up shy but resilient.   Shy because I knew I was out of place just about anywhere I was.  Resilient because I learned to accept what was, even as I strived to improve my future. 

But I would not change my childhood.  I think it made me strong on the inside.  I'm glad I didn't always get everything I wanted.  I think people who do never learn to appreciate life.  They don't learn to bounce.  Sometimes things are wonderful, and sometimes I struggle, but through it all I appreciate what I have, and I'm happy and secure with my life.

So after decades of learning to be happy with myself, the shyness has almost melted away.  I still feel a twinge now and then, but mostly I feel comfortable in my skin.  I figured out that money is just...money.  It doesn't make you a better person, it just buys things.  If you have a lot, then you can buy a lot of things.  If you have a little, then you can buy less, but so what?  A $40 steak and a PB&J all come out the same in the end. 

What a person does with the space they take up on this planet, and how they treat their family and how they treat strangers and the world...that's the measure of who is important and who is deserving, or not.  Having more things doesn't make a person more entitled to the air they breathe than me.  Once I realized this, I began to relax around people...whoever they are.

Still...I can't help but I wonder if on the inside I will always be that poverty-stricken little girl I was growing up.  Sometimes she's there beside me, looking scared and feeling out of place.  Sometimes she is more comfortable making chit-chat with the waitstaff than with other diners.  I just hold her hand and tell her to smile and breathe, and that we're okay.  Most of the time she believes me.

View From the Back

Well, after 12 months of rear-facing in her carseat, and 15 months of extended rear-facing, we have turned Caitlyn's carseat forward.  We probably could have squeezed a few more months out of it, but it was a compromise with the Arizona sun in summer.  It's okay.  I'm glad and proud that we kept her rear facing all those extra months.

We have been lucky that we've never been in an accident with Catie, but if we had then rear-facing would have been soooooo much safer.  I won't get all preachy right now, but if the situation applies to you, you can learn more at car-seat.org. :)

Catie had been so used to looking out the window during our drives that when we finally turned her around she was so happy.  Here she is enjoying her family in a whole new way. 

And another "last first" goes down in the books :)  Happy Carseat Graduation Day, Honey!

ABCs; the Reprise

Not to be outdone, Caitlyn has recorded a follow up to last summer's smash hit "Jaden's ABCs".   So once again, the little sister steals the spotlight...



Mommy disclaimer:  Those black marks are soap crayon.  I do wash the bathtub occasionally.

Regret

I know a woman who spends a great deal of time torn up by things she regrets, and this keeps her from living a happy, peaceful life.  When I stop to think about it, I think a lot of people really wish they could have a handful of do-overs.

I've never been that kind of person.  I regret very, very few things in my life.  Yeah, I've screwed some things up along the way, and my life sure hasn't been perfect.  But I think that my mistakes and choices have made me who I am.   I've learned from all my experiences, and along the way have turned into a person I really like.  So if I could have a do-over, it wouldn't be spent on fixing any of my choices, or correcting any of my big mistakes.  But there IS something I did that I would take back if I could.

When I was in high school, I broke up with my best friend.  We were really close friends and had been for years.  She knew me in ways that my other friends didn't, and had always been good to me.  But as we were nearing the end of our freshman year, I had finally figured out that she wasn't really that cool in the eyes of the other people I wanted to like me. 

I didn't even discuss it with her.  I cowardly sent her a note in science class, and watched her face crumple, and then her eyes tear as she read my note ending our friendship. I wasn't gleeful. I didn't intend to be mean.  I just wanted out.  So I left her, and she was alone. 

She went on, living her life and eventually found other friends to spend time with.  But I think what I did damaged her.  Being a teenager in high school is painful enough without having your best friend dump you.  For a long, long time I'd catch her looking at me from across a room with this barely concealed hurt written on her face.

I guess compared to other stories, mine seems small.  It was a defining moment for me, though.   It was the first and only time I ever treated somebody meanly for shallow reasons.  

About this situation I am deeply ashamed, but I can't undo it.  I wish I could talk to the confused fifteen-year-old girl I once was,  and tell her all I've learned about what is important about friendship and life, but I can't.  I wish so much that I could go back and undo this cruel thing.  But I can't.

What I CAN do, is try to be a better person now.   Really, isn't that all anyone can do?

You Ready?

This is my favorite commercial!  Seriously...I get all misty-eyed every time it comes on.  It's a "mommy thing" I guess, because when that happens Craig just looks at me with this quizzical expression, then shakes his head and walks away.

What I love about it is the double meaning of the phrase at the end, "Are you ready?" 



See what I mean? 

Sister Love

You know, I think they really do love each other.  Really.

They're by turns best friends and constant rivals.  They bounce ideas off each other.  They check each other's moods before reacting to something.  They play together and fight together.

Sounds like true love to me :)

...dotdotdot...

My girls have a thing for Mama Mia.  I mean, a real THING.    We're a bit strict with the TV, so they get one show a day.  They usually choose Barney, Sesame Street, Blue's Clues, and.....the movie version of Mama Mia.

Ever since they saw this movie, they've been convinced that ABBA's song "Honey, Honey" is really an ode to Caitlyn, so we sing it to her all the time.  Craig even bought the soundtrack to calm their crabby car rides home in the afternoons.  Amanda Seyfried is some kind of superstar in their eyes.  

Anyway, one of the things Jaden has started doing is quoting bits of the dialogue.   Until now,  it's been fairly tame.  That is, unless you know what "dot, dot, dot" means.  

So this morning Jaden and I were talking about going swimming in the pool later with Caitlyn and Craig.   She was really excited and she ran to tell Caitlyn, "Honey!  We're going swimming later!  Daddy's going to swim, and Mommy's going to swim, and......dot dot dot!"

I burst out laughing, but oh...Mama Mia!

Tomorrows

Having young children makes me consider my own mortality a lot more than I used to.  I am not a paranoid person, or one given to irrational hysteria.  I'm not afraid of many things, actually.  But sometimes I wonder... am I developing a not-so-healthy fear of dying?  I worry about driving in the car. I worry a lot about falling down the stairs. I think about aneurysms and cancers and pneumonia. If I'm being honest, that was really the only reason I actually got my mammogram.

I'm not scared of dying, exactly. I'm not scared for my sake.  I'm afraid of leaving my little ones motherless.    For me, this is the scariest part about raising really young children.  Because we bring these little people into the world.  Everything that they are, and everything they will become is in our hands.  But...what if my hands weren't here? That's truly where all the anxiety comes from.

They would have their dad, of course, and he's a wonderful dad.  He's thoughtful and gentle, and has a special relationship with each of them.  So I know they'd grow up happy and loved. 

But still.   Mothers...well they're just irreplaceable, you know?  Who would teach my girls how to tame their curly hair, and match their clothes, and make sure their nails were trimmed?  Who would teach them how to wear make-up, and how to talk to boys, and how to be brave and stand up to mean girls? Who would help them choose their wedding gowns and bathe their newborns?   These are not the jobs of a father.

I can't even imagine leaving my girls to grow up on this earth without me.  When I try to picture it, I can't even breathe. What if something happened to me now? They would have NO memory of me. They wouldn't think of me with love, or miss me...because they wouldn't ever remember me.

If I disappeared, how would they ever know how much I love them? How would they ever know what they mean to me? A couple years of pictures,  half empty baby books,  and a few cutesy mom blogs...that's all I'd leave behind.

I have to be careful. I cannot let anything happen to myself. I have to be so, so careful.

And I need to live these early days with them completely.  I should not save things for tomorrow or put experiences off for a better or easier age.  They deserve the best of me now, not tomorrow.  My universe gave me these beautiful children and no guarantees about how many tomorrows I will see.  What if now is all I will have?

At the Movies

Today I took Jaden to see her very first theater movie...Toy Story 3!  She was super excited, even though she didn't know what to expect.  Here she is munching on her popcorn and waiting for the main event.  

 

Boy, was she thrilled when the lights went down and the movie started on that huge screen!  I really enjoyed watching her take it all in, and experiencing the wonder of the movie theater from her perspective.  She talked animatedly through the whole thing, telling me what she thought and how she felt.

As for me, I LOVED Toy Story 3, even more than I loved the first two.  Although, I think you have to know the history of the first two in order to appreciate it fully.  I admit, I teared up during the whole last 10 minutes.  It was the end, and yet...not.  I love that life always comes full circle, even for animated toys.

Dear Mom in 1019,

Please stop letting your toddler ride his tricycle in the parking areas and street where we live.  I know it's hard with so many kids.  It's hard to watch them every second and still get things done.  But I also know how completely devastating it would have been to your family if I had not been able to stop my car in time today.

What would you do if that sweet little boy HAD been crushed underneath the wheels of my car?  Imagine the grief you would live with every day for the rest of your life.  Imagine how you would cry over his chubby baby-faced pictures, wondering what he might have looked like over the years.  Imagine how you might come across his Thomas PJs in the laundry hamper and hold them to your face, breathing in his little boy smell, knowing it would soon be gone for good.

Imagine the guilt his 5-year-old brother would grow up with, knowing he was supposed to be "watching" his little brother on that day he died.  What could that kind of guilt do to a kid?  How could he ever grow up a normal, happy person with that on his conscience?

Please, please  take a minute to think about what happened today, and thank your Angel for sparing you from what might have been.  Then go into your little guy's room and look at his sleeping face.  Hug him, and kiss him, and cherish him for the gift that he is.  Now make him a promise...the most solemn promise a mother can make.  And keep it.

The Bathroom Personality Test.

Okay, so the other day I was sitting on the potty thinking some deep thoughts.  If you are visualizing me covering my ears as I stare at fingers reaching under the door and try to ignore the cries of, "Mommy! It's ME, Mommy!  Let me in there! What are you doing?? Mommy???" well then, you know my life too well.  If you are visualizing anything else...you're just gross.

Anyway.  There I was, thinking that you can really tell an awful lot about a person by their potty habits.  Seriously!  Consider these basic decisions you have to make in any public or private restroom.  Decide what YOU do in that situation.  I'll bet you that I can kinda-sorta with 66.6% accuracy predict what kind of person you are.   That's a better percentage than those Facebook quizzes.  Let's try it!

1.  In public restrooms, do you use the seat covers?

Yes.  You are a person who uses your seatbelt, and gets regular dental checkups.  You take the time to do what  you need to stay healthy.  Plus, you just like the idea that your ass hasn't touched the porcelain that other asses have.

No.  You are a little reckless, but in a fun way.  You are a laidback kind of person whom others enjoy being around.  Things tend to not faze you.

Kind of.  You know you should use them, but haven't been able to figure out how they work, so you skip the covers and just hover over the toilet seat and hope your aim is true.  You are the kind of person who eats out a lot, and will pay a shop to install your car battery rather than doing it yourself.  You are a little unsure about what direction your life is headed, and dream about a career change.

2.  When do you wrap the TP around your hand?

Before.  You are very busy living your life, and don't have a whole lot of time to waste.  You are great at multi-tasking, and rarely waste time just sitting around.  People can depend on you.


After.  You are an easy-going person.  You usually order both an appetizer and dessert when you go out to eat.  You like to relax on porch swings, and stand an extra few minutes in the shower just enjoying the feel of the hot spray.  You will sit in your car to finish listening to a song, even after you've arrived at your destination.


3.  You prefer the TP roll to go...?

Over.  Your house is neat and tidy, and your bathroom is color-coordinated.  You have a weakness for handbags and shoes.

Under.  You either have children or pets, probably both.  You enjoy comfort over appearances.  Both your sofa and bed are plushy and comfortable, with big pillows and a throw or two. 

4.  What kind of reading material do you have available in your own bathroom?

A couple of issues of Glamour or People in a cute basket.  You like to keep busy, even for short amounts of time.  You always make lists before going to the grocery store, and think about the calories of frozen yogurt vs ice-cream.

Crossword puzzles, word games, and the latest Uncle John's Bathroom Reader.   You don't get much time to yourself.  There are probably few areas of the house that you can claim for your own.  You are thoughtful and methodical, and don't mind waiting in lines at the bank or grocery store.

A newspaper.  You are either my grandpa or a person in serious need of a trip to Barnes and Noble.

5.  On your way out of the bathroom, you always...

Wash your hands, and then pause to check your make-up and smooth your hair.   You are a twenty-something woman,with places to go and people to see.

    
Check your teeth, lipstick, and manicure, all while washing your hands.   You are between 30-40 and have an active, busy lifestyle.

Wash your hands, add some lotion, and go.  You are older than 40 and very secure and happy with your life.

Skip the hand-washing because you already have your own germs.  You are a guy.

That's it.  Your personality profile according to Dawn's Potty Litmus.  Did I come close?

No Good Reason

You know what I really hate in the blogging world?  Blogs about BLOGS.  As in, people using their blogspace to write about writing in their blogspace.  Ick.   But I'm going to shelve that loathing temporarily in order to write about blogging.  I'm wincing to myself even as I type this.

Kharli asked me the other day, "What's up with your blog? Why haven't you written anything lately?"  My answer? "No good reason."  There are a lot of little reasons.  Small, inconsequential, meaningless, [insert another synonym here] reasons.  Those little things add up, I guess.

1.  I have all day now that it's summer, but those days are full.   FULL...busy, busy, busy with my girls and family.  I go to bed as tired as I do on a regular school day.

2.  I'm trying to not drink a whole lot of wine.  Not in some sordid AA way, just because of expense and calories, etc.  However, I do tend to write a lot at night either after or during the consumption of wine :) 

3.  Facebook is the devil.  You KNOW what I mean, don't you?  What a completely entertaining internet time-suck!  In between checking my friends' statuses, commenting on people living their lives, updating, feeding my zoo animals and tending my farm....well, who has time to do anything else?  Admit it..how many times have you logged on "for a quick minute" only to click out 90 minutes later?  So...yeah.  Facebook has killed many a blog, I think.

4.  Nothing seems important.  That's dumb, but well...every day I think of something I want to write about.  I blow myself off, though,  because I figure if I haven't written in two whole weeks the next thing I choose to write about should be something more worthwhile than my thoughts on why I haven't blogged in a while.

5.  Um, that's all.  I just hate ending on 4.  The number 5 has more list-writing power.

Okay, so I've decided to write a post about something EVERY DAY for at least the rest of the summer.  Some might be really good posts, but I'm guessing most will just be my random ding-a-ling thoughts.  This could be kind of fun, actually! 

But, I have to go write something for real now.  Crap.