Ted Haggard's Not the Only One Who Can Sorta, Kinda, In a Way, Admit When He's Possibly, Maybe, A Little Wrong

WAYW: Same Song, Second Verse

So here I am again... in my now famous kitchen, wearing jeans. What's that joke about Pete and Repeat? I am sure it all looks way too familiar, so I apologize in advance for my obvious lack of creativity. As a bonus, though, if you look close enough, not only can you see my red devil eyes, you can monitor the latest developments in RootWatch '09 (clue: the white hair growing from my temples). 

gap essentials blue jeans: Gap $58

brown belt: Gap $19.99 (sale)

white long sleeve tee: Target $5.88 (sale)

grey cap sleeve tee: Gap $24

flats: Gap $19.99 (sale)

necklace: handmade from a friend 

Believe me, if I can do it, so can you... Now go visit Tiaras and Tantrums and play along!

Like Sands Through the Hourglass...

I can't wait for the Super Bowl this Sunday! As the season winds down, I find myself sad about the football-less months ahead. But, I will savor every moment of Sunday's final showdown, before turning my attention and allegiance to Nascar.

 

I don't remember liking football as a kid. In fact, I am pretty sure I thought it was pointless and stupid. But as an adult, I have had a change of heart. And let me tell you why. It isn't because I like the game. And it certainly isn't because I feel some sort of loyalty to a particular geographic region. I love football because I view it as one, big soap opera. It comes rather easy for me, probably because I am naturally drawn to drama (which will also be my eventual downfall). But I think, with a little guidance, anyone can fall in love with just about any sport.

The key is paying attention to the pre-game footage. Here is where they wax poetic about the human interest stories. Human interest is code for drama. Here you will find out about the quarterback that has understandably been off his game because his wife just gave birth to twins (not evil twins, i don't think...just regular twins). They'll tell you about the college player that has been raising his little brother in his dorm room, since their mama died. And you'll find out about JoePa, the Penn State coach who is 295 years old and is still going strong. We're talking Edward Quartermaine with a bad hip. How can anyone not root for him?? 

The more these stories, and players, tug at your heart, the more you will want them to be happy. And what makes these players happy? Winning! You'll be cheering through tears of joy. Soon, you'll have a favorite player, maybe even a favorite team and you'll definitely have several nemeses you'll secretly love to hate! Think Heidi Montag with a helmet and jockstrap.

This year, none of my usual suspects have made it to the Super Bowl, so I had to do a little extra research to decide who to root for. I am going with the Cardinals. Did you know that cute Kurt Warner is almost 40? Talk about a comeback against the odds! It's almost as good as Roman Brady coming back from the dead (again)! And there's a fellow on his team that was considered "too good" to stay on the Cardinals, but stood by his team, through thick and thin. You don't see loyalty like that just anywhere. Even Luke divorced Laura after putting up with her catatonic state for so long! 

Hopefully, next year there will be a player who escapes from a secret lair during the off-season. You can bet the farm that I'll be rootin' for him!

Wordful Wednesday: Jealous Much?

Okay, all of you women out there... Don't think I haven't noticed you throwing yourselves at my good bud, Jay, Mr. Halftime Lessons, himself.  You should be ashamed. Very ashamed. HOWEVER, before you go looking for your dignity and self-respect, please, take this golden opportunity to fawn over the young hunk. Consider it a gift... No need to thank me. 

And by the way, today just happens to be his birthday! Happy Birthday to my favorite prom date of all! 

This post has been brought to you by the year 1985 and, of course, that Wordful Wonder herself, Angie!

Tuesday's Doggone Tribute

I am not really a 'dog person'. In fact, pets, in general, tend to annoy me. But my girl, Pepper, is a love. She is gentle and funny, sweet and sensitive. She is, by far, my favorite pet here at the zoo (and yes, I can have a favorite since animals can't read). She has an almost magical effect on those that encounter her. My boys have even suggested she could end wars with her cuteness, and I have to wonder if they might be right. How could anyone resist her brown eyes? How could anyone think about death, destruction and hate in her presence? She makes our lives happier around here and I am so glad we adopted her. Which reminds me... 

I overheard a shocking conversation just today. It seems that with the economy in the tank, people are making cuts in their lives, and first on the chopping block are pets! People, in record numbers, are deciding it is no longer financially feasible to care for their animals and taking them to shelters. This is heartbreaking to me. I'm not going to judge anyone that makes this decision, but I can get the word out that there are animals that need a home... lots of them!

Let's not forget about those that can't help themselves in these bleak economic times. 

Yet Another Jay and Deb Production.

PJs and Cheese

So tonight we are wearing our pajamas inside out and backwards. Furthermore, we are placing sliced cheese under our pillows. The end result of our unabashedly pagan rituals had better be snow. And lots of it. Enough to elicit mass hysteria and cause confused fear and irrational caution among school district administrators. 

My children are nearing their breaking points. I have gently reminded them that Christmas break was less than a month ago, and not only did they have a four day weekend last weekend, they are currently in the midst of yet another. 

However, I have been informed that scheduled school closings pale in comparison to the unplanned ones. Apparently, I am confusing apples with oranges. After a few eye rolls, requests for yet more sleepovers, arguments about homework, and a quick sweep of the basement yielding ELEVEN empty cans of Mountain Dew, I stand corrected. I realize that going to school on Wednesday is completely out of the question for any self-respecting school hater. 

I guess I had better go cut the tag out of my pajama top...it keeps rubbing against my chin.

PS: my pretty, new computer went the way of Homer Simpson this weekend, but I am back up and running. I did read everyone's weekend posts, but to get through all 87 of them in the most expeditious manner, I didn't comment. Forgive me, please!

Letting Go

This has been a tough few weeks in our house... First there was the passing of Moody Teen's sweet, gentle leopard gecko, Mel. After a proper burial in the woods, with a little wooden marker and quick prayer, we soldiered on. 

Until today. 

The grief of that loss came flooding back to me as I realized I would have to euthanize another faithful family member... Moody Teen's Homer Simpson Chia Pet, which was a Christmas present from his best bud. I don't think he was too emotionally invested, however, as I was the one who excitedly ripped open the box, carefully read the directions, mixed up the seed paste and gingerly applied it to Homer's bald, terra cotta head. It wasn't long until the tiny, green seedlings took root and began to grow. I was just so proud of my accomplishment, thinking Homer would be my redemption... A chance to prove I really do have a green thumb, after the hundreds of innocent plants I have killed in the past. Well, not so fast...

This morning, I went to check on Homer and found him in a shocking state of distress. I guess it's time to say goodbye. Homer, I loved you, tho I hardly knew ye.

Oh, and by the way, this happens to be my 100th post. So, in the famous words of our dear Homer Simpson... Woo-Hoo!!!

WAYW: Motivated (for the moment)

Here's what I am wearing. Rather, this is more like what I will be wearing. As you can see, the clothes are not actually on me yet, and that is because I am still wearing what I was wearing yesterday, which you all have already been blessed to see. 

So my plan is to hit the gym before I get pulled in another direction (i.e. bed). I was, once again, quite disappointed by the lack of raisins in my cereal this morning. NOT a good way to start the weekend.

The run-down:

Nike shirt: Kohl's $12.00

Champion yoga pants: Target $15

Nike sneaks: DSW $39.99

Addendum to Tuesday's Tribute: REAL Class

Maybe you've noticed that my posts have been rather lacking in substance of late (or maybe you smart ones have figured out that's the status quo!). I have been feeling fairly emotional about a whole host of issues in my life... friendships, mostly. I know this is the perfect place to sort them all out and just write, even if it isn't coherent or interesting or nice. But, for some reason, I can't quite solidify what I am feeling enough to even think about where to start. It's all still in my heart and hasn't quite traveled to my brain yet. Hopefully it will get there soon. Until then, I present to you even more nonsense. Perhaps next time I'll comb my hair.

A Thousand Words Thursday: He's BAAAACK!

What you can't see in the shot is the gatorade dripping from his mouth, while he's rolling around on the ground, extra loopy from unadulterated, blissful, ski-induced exhaustion. 

Now remind me... Why, exactly, did I miss him so much?!

WW: For Those Who Enjoy Watching Paint Dry

Just when you thought I couldn't get any more boring, shallow and self-absorbed, I present to you: Root Watch 09. Yes, I have made the not-very-well-thought-out decision to grow out my 'real' hair. You all know how I agonize about every single aspect of my hair, and it is dragging me down, man. I am determined to address each follicular concern and solve them permanently, so I can focus on more important things, like which purse should I buy next (Spring is almost here, people!). Having come to terms with wearing a chin length bob for the rest of my days, it is now time to focus on color. 

I haven't seen my natural color since I was 13. That's the year I wielded my very first bottle of Sun In, with hideous results. My mom thought it best to remove the orange, so she coated my head with a color-stripper. Well, my friends, not only did it remove the orange, it removed the brown and the red and the golden blonde... I had completely white hair. And, well, the rest is history. I have been every shade of every color, including jet black during my "alternative" phase in college, and I am quite curious about the actual color of my hair.

Of course I should be very thankful that I actually even still have hair, given the torture I have put it through, and leave well enough alone. But I believe that beggars CAN be choosers, therefore I am moving forward with my little experiment. I suppose I should make it clear that this, in NO way, means I plan to stay with my natural mousy/salt/pepper disaster, once it has been fully uncovered. I just want to see what it is, exactly, I am really dealing with. 

Anyway, this picture was taken this morning, approximately 8 weeks since my last dye job. For all you waiting on pins and needles, I will try to keep you updated monthly. Unless I get too bored (or too depressed) to continue and run to the drugstore for my favorite L'Oreal natural brown #6A. I am feeling very committed, and I know I will find plenty of love, support and finger-pointing here in BlogLand, so let's get this party started!

And, of course, if I had Angie's gorgeous red hair, this wouldn't even be an issue. 

TT: One Hot Mama

So, apparently my "What Am I Wearing?" post generated quite a bit of interest from some of you men (and a couple of you gals). I have to say, it was unexpected, but I'm quite flattered. So, today, I present to you a close up version of the photo that you all found so sexy. Don't look if you don't have time to take a cold shower immediately after... 

Yes, I do realize I am blessed to be the custodian of a little gift from God, the Viking range. But no, I don't use it to it's potential, whatsoever. It was in the kitchen when we moved in, and at the risk of losing any potential endorsement deal with Viking in the future, it is sufficient. It heats my chicken nuggets and frozen pizzas just fine. It hasn't turned me into a chef. It hasn't made cooking so fun, I gave up reality TV to spend time in the kitchen. But it does what it's supposed to do, and I certainly can't (and won't) complain. I will say that I do enjoy having a gas stove, because it gets the job done quickly. But I think that is true with all gas ranges, regardless of make.

I will point out, just to reinforce all perceptions that I am completely incompetent, that the far left nob is missing, and has been for approximately 2.5 years. 

Now it's your turn. Surely you can find something to declare adequate in your life! Tuesday's Tribute awaits!

Yet Another Jay and Deb Production.

Six Word Saturday

Since I can't think for myself these days, I am jumping on yet another bandwagon. This one caught my eye last week, and I really like the idea. It's called Six Word Saturday, hosted by Call Me Cate, over at Show My Face. The idea behind it is quite profound, and when I can put enough thought into it, I'd like to come up with a six word sentence to describe my life, like the people did in the book that inspired this game. For now, I will go with what's on the top of my head...

Beside Myself...Son Skiing in Canada

Pretend your verbosity is being held hostage by a stark raving maniac (Call Me Cate would be said maniac), and play along!

The Moment You've All Been Waiting For... WAYW

It's official... I'm not in my pajamas! I have the photographic evidence to prove it. I do want to thank Tiaras & Tantrums for motivating me. Two weeks in a row in PJs would be simply unacceptable. Even I know that. So, without further ado...

Here is the whole look. Not spectacular, but sufficient. I can't wait to hear what CaJoh has to say about my kitchen this week.

Gap Essentials jeans: $58 maybe?

Tan (Gap) RECYCLED (I'm not sure how, but I believe them) sweater: ON SALE $14.99. 

Target scarf: $8

Rounding out the whole mess are my new, wonderful, don't hate them because they're Uggs, boots: $169. They aren't the classic Uggs, worshipped by teen girls everywhere, but a slightly more sophisticated version (at least that's what I am telling myself).

Next we have a close up of a rare occurrence: my ears with earrings in them. These are my favorites, made by my lovely, gifted friend Ann, over at Beadiful Things. 

And finally, a shot before I walked out the door. It is very cold, so I had to throw on a hat, even though, with my short hair, I look like a boy. A haggard boy, at that. And while I will be the first to admit I have the baggiest under-eye bags, they are usually a little more under control. They are extra puffy because of my illness (which, for the record, has been narrowed down to a cold or SARS). If anyone can photoshop them out, and maybe thin out my face a little, please see me after class.

There you have it, folks. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go assume the fetal position with a carton of ice cream, where I will remain until my 15 yo big boy comes back from Canada safe, sound and un-arrested.

My One and Only

I noticed a few of you participated in some sort of "spouse guest blogger" deal. Please... I can tell you right now that if I were to unleash that beast, the result would be one of about 4 or 5 posts. Or perhaps an evil combination of them all!

1) shameless self-promotion of home improvement projects completed 

2) urgent plea for help in convincing me he needs a 67 Vette

3) pathetic cry for sympathy for living with someone as tyrannical as myself

4) external validation of an outfit he put together for himself, that he's really just so tickled about

5) reminder to leave lots of comments about how great he is (he loves those!)

No thank you. 

However, I did see that one of Mama Kat's prompts was to describe the most attractive quality about your spouse. So maybe I'll give that one a shot. At least this way, I am in the driver's seat.

My husband puts our family first...no matter what. He actually likes being around us (which is beyond me!). He doesn't do the whole "guys' night out" thing, he doesn't disappear to go play golf on Saturdays, and anytime he cooks up something fun to do, it always includes all four of us. Sometimes it drives me nuts that if he's just running down the street to pick up dinner (because AGAIN, I'm not cooking), he wants me to come along so we can spend time together. But really, I am so lucky that, after all this time, he still enjoys my company! Don't get me wrong, we aren't constantly engaged in deep, thought-provoking discussion. Sometimes, we just sit on the couch, TV on, kids running in and out, while we both stare at our own laptops (romantic, huh?). But we would both agree that there is no other place that we would rather be, and just being with each other is quite fulfilling.

I know this sounds seriously boring and simple, but it is such a reassuring feeling to know that no matter what, he is here for our family because he wants to be. Or at least he did, up until I exposed his vulnerabilities to you all (see above)!

There's a thousand other things I could write about him that would probably be a lot more dazzling than what I chose. But isn't it the little things that make the biggest impact? Plus, I don't want you all to be too terribly jealous! 

I love you, Pook!

Thanks to MamaKat for inspiring us all with her Writer's Workshop. I do realize I am a day late, and perhaps many dollars short!

Comfortably Numb

*author's note: to the obviously large number of germaphobes visiting my blog, please IGNORE the fact that my child (that was attached to me umbilically for almost 9 months) and I shared the same bottle of moonshine. In our moment of desperation, cross-contamination was not a concern!

 

My Beans has been sick all week. Today he was well enough to hopefully fly under the school nurse's radar. I've been sick, too, as you all know. Since I am slowly feeling better, I have decided it is probably not lung cancer, but I am not ruling out meningitis OR bird flu (thanks, Kel).

But today's post is not about my acute illness, it is about an addiction I share with my Beans. I don't know if I should feel guilty for possibly passing this down to him genetically, or because I have been feeding his (and my) habit for years, with no plans to stop. Just call me Crack Mama.

So let's all pretend we are sitting, without judgement, in a circle, in some church basement. I'll get the ball rolling...

My name is Debbie, and I am an Afrin addict. I have passed this addiction to my son, and feel like I have no way out. The first time either of us feel a stuffy nose coming on, we head for the magic elixir. We don't mess around, either... It's Severe Congestion Afrin WITH Menthol, or nothin', baby. I know I sound unrepentant, and perhaps I am. Maybe I am not ready to shake this monkey from my back. I know my son's not. 

He was lying prostrate on my bed yesterday, using his cell phone to text me in the other room, as he was too weak and sick to come get me, or raise his voice to holler for me. 

B: does we have any afrin, madre? (for the record, he does know this is illiterate sounding, but somehow thinks grammatically incorrect texts are funny)

Me: yes, beanie

B: da good kind?

Me: no, beans. only generic

B: can u go 2 the store n getz some extra-strength afrin?

Me: sure

B: wit menthol?

Me: good lord. yes, ok

B: and sum pudding?

Me: k

B: don't forgets da afrin 

Me: right. go to sleep or i'm taking you to school.

I get home from the store, and he sees the Afrin and literally starts singing a weird, little joyful ode to menthol Afrin (creative, yet disturbing). He snatches it from me and squirts it in each nostril without flinching. He lets out a sigh of relief and lays his head gently, and happily, back on his pillow. Very nonchalantly, I take the bottle from him, go into the other room and take a couple of hits off of it, myself. Ahhh... there's just nothing better than an open nose, nostrils burning sweetly from the menthol. Who doesn't like to breathe through their nose?

Does it sound to you like we may have a problem?

WW: Pomp and Circumstance

You probably think all three of the people in this picture look way too old to be participating in the obvious activity on display. Well, you're right, they are. The characters in question? My parents and me. The activity? College graduation. 

The year was 1997. I had just had my second son. In fact, during my final semester, I spent 4 weeks on bed rest. My mom came up from Texas and drove me to and from class. My husband was still in training for his career, making mere pennies, and I had taken out every student loan I could get my hands on. I figured if we were going to be poor, we might as well be destitute. If you're going to be a bear, be a grizzly, right?

We all look deceptively sane in the photo, don't we? It's weird how I remember that day FAIRLY well, but the years preceding it are so blurry now. My memories of walking to class, being called Mrs. W by my classmates, study groups, research projects, husband being in charge (I use that term VERY loosely) at home while I was in class... they're all pretty much gone. But the good news is those memories have been replaced by ones of the kids, family activities and other precious things.

However, graduating from college, 100 years late, is probably my most significant accomplishment to date. I don't consider being a mom or a wife accomplishments. And I don't mean that derogatorily, either. I would consider them to be blessings. Or maybe works in progress. 

Life has intervened at almost every turn in my life. My plans I had for my life when I was a teen have been reshaped by car wrecks, stupidity, true love, health scares and time... but I wouldn't trade any of it for anything. 

*author's note: as impressive as this all may sound, please note that said graduate has done NOTHING of value with that little slip of paper called a diploma. 

And let's hear it for Angie, hostess with the mostest of Wordful Wednesdays!

Tuesday's Tribute: Renaissance Man

I am going to try very hard to steer this away from me. However, the origins of this post stem from my shortcomings as a mom, and my bad habit of following the path of least resistance. See? There I go! Already an entire paragraph about me...

These Tuesday's Tributes are perfect for blathering on about Mr. G, my brave, funny son battling cf. He is a force to be reckoned with, that one. The only thing is... I have another child! Yup. I have to remind myself of that sometimes, too!

You see, Mr. Beans is easy. He is healthy, he is even tempered, and he worships (and worries about) his older brother. That's a lethal combination if you want to get attention around here. So today, it's all about Mr. Beans. I think you'll be impressed.

The list of his accomplishments is quite diverse. He is an amazing breaststroker. He plays the saxophone and has just picked up the electric guitar. He plays both instruments by ear, rendering sheet music unnecessary. He writes poems. He has been the champion, or runner up, in the school-wide geography bee for the past 3 years. And to top all of that off, he is a budding fencer. How cool is that? 

However, as amazing as those talents are, they are not what make me so very proud of my Bean. It's his innate desire to share... Insisting I try a bite of his food, so I can see for myself how delicious it is. It's his natural ability to be a friend to all. It's his gentle, loving manner he has with our pets. It's the way he puts others before himself, without hesitation. It's the way, after 12 years, he still wants to cuddle and always makes me pass through the "Hug Toll Booth". 

Mr. Beans, I love you. I am proud of you. And I thank you.

Alright, everybody... Won't you play Tuesday's Tribute with us?

Yet Another Jay and Deb Production.

N Sync

So by now, you all know the drill. The only thing left is to recognize (blame) those who made today's post possible. It appears this little game has been circulating for a while and can be traced back to Kel, our favorite Girl in the Glasses. More recently, Soxy Deb has been wielding her power, assigning letters to bloggers everywhere. One of those bloggers, my dear, dear Em was nice enough to bequeath me the letter N. And so, a post was born.

NOODLES: As in pasta. Macaroni, ravioli, tortellini, spaghetti... You name it, I'll eat it. I can eat it from the box (Thank you, Kraft), I can eat it wearing socks. Or even eat it on a train. Or maybe even in the rain!

NONSENSE: Am I the only one that thinks you can be educated, well-read and well-spoken and have a subscription to People? Why can't you be intelligent and never miss an episode of The Biggest Loser, The Hills and American Idol? I have NO problem setting aside my IQ to revel in reality TV, celebrity gossip, potty talk with the boys or just plain silliness. I don't take myself too seriously, and I highly recommend it.

NAPS: Really? Is an explanation needed?

NOT MY BUSINESS: In fact, the MORE not my business it is, the more I love it. I am always on alert for a conversation to overhear. My favorite is when I happen along people needing help or directions or an answer to a question that I know the answer to! Oh, how I love inserting myself, unsolicited, into other people's lives. 

NEW: Newborns, new shoes, new tv seasons, new years. I love the newness of new. I think it is the clean slate that is so appealing. The promise of things to come, unspoiled by reality.

NEWS: I am a junkie. Fox is usually what's on at my house, since my husband is a die-hard conservative. But I am not choosy. CNN, MSNBC, Local, National. I have it on constantly. I want to be in on any disaster, controversy or breaking news alert the SECOND it occurs. As I have said before, God forbid Armageddon begins and I am the last one to know! 

NORTH STAR: Is there anything more magical and wondrous than looking up on a clear night and seeing the bright, twinkling lights that shine regardless of our problems or achievements?

NICENESS: Sorry, but I like nice people. I like being nice to people, too. It makes me happy to have pleasant exchanges with strangers. My favorite easy way to be nice is to intercept someone walking their cart back to the grocery store as I am headed in and offering to take it for them. 

NOTHING: Days when there is nothing on the schedule are few and far between. I am very good at taking advantage of the nothingness and enjoying every second of sitting on the couch in my p.j.s, waiting for the sun to go down so I can pick up the phone to have pizza delivered for dinner.

NEBULIZERS: I got this idea from Em. Normally, these pesky, high-maintenance gadgets would be on my hate list, but I am going to try to see the positive in the things that get my goat. And this positive is a big one. These plastic vessels, that have to be taken apart, hand-washed and air-dried daily, deliver the miraculous medicine to my sweet, moody teen's lungs, that keeps him healthy, fresh, maddening, funny and ready for any adventure. 

What In the World Am I Wearing?

Oh, I had such big plans for this week... I was going to transform from my usual rumpled, exceedingly casual everyday look, and razzle and dazzle you all with something über-fashionable and chic (which would probably require both a magic wand and an expensive trip to the mall). However, per usual, life intervened. 

I went to bed feeling under the weather last night, and by 1:00 am, I had relocated to two different beds, returned to my own, changed pjs, found, and used, my son's inhaler, and woke my husband to complain about how horrible I felt, as if, somehow, it was his fault, or he should be awake to monitor my respirations, or something. Misery does love company, doesn't it?

Anyway, I am pretty sure I either have lung cancer or the flu, because, of course, it can't just be the virus striking every home within a 10 mile radius. But since the show must always go on, I present to you... what I am wearing.

Now don't be hatin'... Not everyone can pull together such fabulousness at the drop of a hat. 

Flannel pj bottoms: where else? Target.

Unacceptably unpainted toenails: moi

The rest was just too disturbing to display.

Brought to you by Tiaras and Tantrums. C'mon, play along, too!

The Very Best Torture Money Can Buy

I think skiing is somewhat like childbirth... Each time, while you're in the moment, whether having a contraction or suffering through the rental line, you can't help but wonder, "What was I thinking? This is a complete nightmare! Never again. NEVER AGAIN!" But miraculously (or insanely), you find yourself only remembering the good, and wind up right back where you were before... Either having more kids, or sitting by a fire with 1,000 of your closest, sweatiest friends, eating a cold $15 hamburger while trying to regain the feeling in your toes. 

Except not this time! I have vowed to remember, and learn from, the physical and emotional pain I endured while on our wonderful, fun-filled, family ski trip to Hell this past weekend. The awful combination of being hot and claustrophobic, yet cold and in pain, along with my marginally coping youngest son, having his own, uniquely embarrassing meltdown, causing him to strip off all his winter-wear, rendering him unable to help carry multiple boots, skis, poles, mittens, helmets and scarves, while the husband, who has his own equipment, has (probably intentionally) disappeared, has been seared into my memory. Yes, yes... I'll ski again, but not without making some major changes in my planning/execution.

Speaking of skiing (and very likely, Hell), I am allowing my 15 y.o. to go skiing with his schoolmates in Canada. WHAT? Am I insane? He's a good boy, but responsibility is not his strong-suit, and he has a bad habit of losing things (especially things of value). He'll be chaperoned pretty closely, and I don't think he will be looking for trouble, as he really does love to ski. He gets on the mountain on the first ride up, and I don't see him again until the lifts close. He skis far better than the rest of us, and I think it will be fun for him to be among fellow daredevils, tackling the double black diamonds and conquering the 360 he just knows he can do. Personally, I am glad I won't be there to witness it. 

Don't worry, you can all tell me, "I told you so," when I have to race to Canada to either bail him out of jail or feed him ice chips in the ICU.

Tuesday's Tribute

---

Yet Another Jay and Deb Production.
Ugh, this was a tough one for me... I have been short on time, short on patience and have not been in a tribute-y mood, whatsoever. My family isn't doing it for me these days, and my friends are striking me as shallow and extra competitive lately. What's a co-host of Tuesday's Tribute to do? After mulling over my tribute options (p.j.'s? hard-boiled eggs?), I decided to set the bar really low for those of you that might be on the fence about participating. When brainstorming about the rules/guidelines for our Tribute Tuesdays, Jay and I both agreed that casting a wide net was important. We wanted to give everyone options. Lots of them. So I am going to take advantage of my vast options. Please feel free to do the same. Make it what you want it to be... Or what you need it to be. There's always next week to talk about how great your kids are.

Today I am shining a spotlight on snow. Those of you who live in northern climes might be rolling your eyes... Those of you that live farther south may be wondering what, exactly, it is I am talking about. The simple act of God that brings beauty to brown lawns and the hope of a snow-day to school kids everywhere. It's been in short supply here this winter, but driving a short three hours to the mountains this weekend gave my family a refreshing and much needed opportunity to romp in the frozen whiteness that brings so much joy, just by being.

To participate in Tuesday's Tribute, Fill out a Mr. Linky below with your name and URL address to your Tribute. Need a button? Go Here.

And the Winner is...drumroll...

JSPRIK (Joanna)!!
From...
Hot Diggidy, Blog Diggidy,
What You Do To Me!


Joanna wins the coveted and greatly anticipated "MISSION: Monday" Grand Prize Gift Basket including the Ruth's Chris Gift Card, The MP3 player, The Itunes Credits, and more!





In the spirit of MISSION: Monday, the Holiday Season, and the New Year, do you think you could all pop over to her great blog and congratulate her? Jay and I couldn't be happier for you, Joanna, and thanks to everyone for playing!!

Remember that tomorrow is the Inaugural Tuesday's Tribute. We will throw up a Mr Linky at HalftimeLessons and at Dirty Socks and Pizza tonight, so come on by, sign up, grab a button, and pay tribute to someone worthy (or even not-so-worthy) tomorrow...Jay and I are so excited to come find your Tributes.

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Now here is how our winner was chosen for the drawing.

Each "MISSION: Monday", we printed the resulting Mr. Linky.


Then we wrote the week number next to each entry so they could easily be looked up if the entrant was not easily recognizable.


Then we cut out each of the entries, cutting each to ensure they were all roughly the same size, and put them in the drawing bowl. If you did "extras" that got you additional entries, like posting on your blog, using our button, etc, we tracked them and hand wrote additional entries for you. Now you can watch the video above to see the results!