Well, the first most exciting is when their books release and you can read them in finished glory.

The second most exciting is getting to reveal the covers for their books! EEK!

I know you’re not supposed to judge a book by the cover, but when the cover is as beautiful as the one for Chanelle Gray’s debut YA novel, MY HEART BE DAMNED, it really represents what’s inside. Are you ready?

Isn’t it gorgeous? The graveyard is so creepy. The girl looks lovely in her dress, but she has obviously just performed an act of bad-assery since that knife is dripping blood down her skirts. And yet, there’s something in her facial expression that makes me think she may not be as tough on the inside as she has to pretend to be on the outside. I’m not sure, but I cannot wait to find out.

Here’s the blurb:

If you’re a Hunter, there are only three things you must know about the Damned. The Damned can’t lie, can’t live without a body, and can’t leave you alone.

Amerie Carter has the blood of a Hunter, unfortunately. She is one of a rare line of women who, upon her sixteenth birthday, will come into extraordinary powers used to hunt the Damned; escaped souls from Hell who take up residence in human bodies. It’s supposed to be her sweet sixteen, but Amerie has never dreaded a day more, and her worst fears are confirmed as the celebration turns tragic when her mother is killed.

Grief-stricken, Amerie vows to never hunt a day in her life. She’s determined to hide behind normalcy, attending school, hanging out with her friends and working an after-school job at The Hut. All Amerie wants is to be left alone. But try telling the Damned that. The harder Amerie tries to ignore her powers, the more the Damned come looking for her.

When an attack leaves one of Amerie’s friends in the hospital, and endangers the lives of her fellow students, she knows she has no choice: Hunt or Be Hunted. Thankfully, the gorgeous, secretive, and so-off-limits Marshall offers to train Amerie to take out her supernatural enemies. But training with Marshall means leading lying to her friends, her family, and confronting the mysterious circumstances surrounding her mother’s death.

Amerie soon discovers she’s not the only one with something to hide, Marshall’s secrets might kill her before the Damned get the chance.

Congrats, Chanelle. It’s sooooo pretty.

Isn’t it a bit like Christmas morning, though? You come downstairs, you see all those presents under the tree. The shiny wrapping paper. The promise of good things inside. And then your parents are all, “No opening until we wake up.” And it’s so, so, so hard to wait! Now that we see the shiny outside, we have to wait until July 15, 2012 for the official MY HEART BE DAMNED release.

Never to fear! Just like stockings on Christmas (which my parents let me open while I waited for present time), there are other MHBD treats in store. For one, you could go to Chanelle’s Goodreads Page to stay up-to-date on all the MHBD news. Next, hop on over to her blog where there are 32 CHANCES TO WIN PRIZES! 32!! That’s more than you can stuff into a stocking, for sure. So maybe this is even better than Christmas?

Some of the goodies up for grabs:

• Pre-orders of MY HEART BE DAMNED
• Chanelle’s super agent, Victoria Marini is giving away a three chapter critique
• Author Leigh Fallon is giving away a copy of her book, CARRIER OF THE MARK
• Author Gretchen McNeil is giving away swag from her book, POSSESS
• And lots more

Definitely worth a look. With that many prizes, one of you is bound to win*! The contest deadline is March 9, 2012.

Congrats again, Chanelle. I’m so excited for you! Thank you for letting me share your cover.

*No guarantees on the winning thing, of course. I mean, if I could predict that sort of thing I’d have predicted lottery numbers long ago and I’d be on a  private island somewhere letting cabana boys feed me grapes and pina coladas. Also, I’d make them read me MY HEART BE DAMNED out loud. They’d have to do the voices too. You can’t read a book out loud if you don’t do the voices. 

Image by jetheriot on Flickr

Yeah, I pretty much have nothing.

So, I thought I’d let other people do it for me. Unfortunately, as is often the case when it comes to internet memes, I have no idea where these originally came from. But, they’re everywhere, which means it probably won’t do any harm if I share them again.

Happy Monday!

I know, I know...this meme is ALREADY annoying. But, doesn't make it less true.

And just to make sure it’s all balanced in Mommyworld:

And then, the baby memes.

Mmm. Peas. Open up!

What? I don't believe you.

If only!

This is so, so wrong, but is making me laugh really hard.

Say wha?!?

And that’s it! Happy Monday!

To understand this story, here is what you need to know. We own these two toy sets. They are exactly the same, except for the color and faces on the characters. One is Batman themed. One is Christmas. This, apparently, makes all the difference in the world.

Son 1: No, the Joker can’t go in the Christmas Cave.

Son 2: Here, Joker. Vrrrroooom. To the Christmas Cave!

Son 1: NO! The Joker goes in the Bat Cave, not the Christmas Cave. Go put him in the Bat Cave.

Son 2 cries.

Me: The Joker could go in the Christmas Cave if Santa would let him.

Son 1: No. The Joker is a bad guy.

Me: Sure he could. Maybe Santa and Batman team up and feed the bad guys magical candy canes that turn them into helpers. So the Joker can come in now.

Son 1: Santa does not feed the Joker candy canes. The Joker is a bad guy.

Me: Just pretend the Joker is a clown, OK? They’re kind of the same thing with all the creepy face paint. And clowns are kind of like elves and elves are allowed in the Christmas Cave.

Son 1 and Son 2 stare at Mommy.

Me: Um. OK. It was just a suggestion. As you were.

Like, before I go places I practice making faces in the mirror. I stare myself down and I think, “OK, do the surprised face. Now the sad face. Now the enraged face!” That way when I’m talking to strangers I’ll feel confident I can make the appropriate reactionary response to stories. It’s true. I think it all started during sorority rush. “Wow. An English major? No. Way! That is so interesting!”

Another thing–you can’t leave cans of frosting in my presence. Just don’t. Not if you want to frost a cake with them. To me, frosting = snack. Forget the cake. I might occasionally dip graham crackers in it. But mostly I don’t want anything standing between me and the sugary, partially hydrogenated oils. That’s why I don’t buy it often. It’s just not safe. I blame this one all on my dad. He did it too.

Lastly, I secretly hope when I’m walking through grocery stores, talking to my children, that some talent scout will magically bump into me and offer me a contract. No, no. Not a modelling contract. I mean, who am I kidding? I eat frosting from a can for crying out loud! No, a vocal talent scout. And not for singing, because I don’t sing. I’m talking about someone who would say, “You have a lovely reading voice. You should record audio books!”

And then I’d get paid for my awesome voice AND to read books all the time. I mean, how amazing would that be? It’s kind of the perfect career for me. That’s why I have to inflect properly when I say something like, “No, children. We can’t eat the bananas before we pay for them.”

I know, I know. That’s not realistic. To really get a career in reading books I’d actually have to take acting lessons and record demos and work for it and stuff. But one can dream.

I think this all stems from the time I read Rose Madder by Stephen King.

It’s been a long time since I’ve read the book, and I remember it being kind of strange and making me uneasy about eating pomegranates, but mostly I remember wanting to be like the main character (for just this one moment because her life was not something I’d envy). She was inside a store–a pawn shop, I believe–when a random stranger heard her voice and decided she’d be perfect for reading books on tape. And since everything that happens in fiction, especially Stephen King novels, can totally happen in real life, I know this could happen for me someday.

That’s my fiction-inspired fantasy career. What’s yours? Have you always wanted to be a Literatec, straight out of a Jasper Fforde novel? Or maybe a member of District 12′s fashion team, straight from The Hunger Games?

Image by Andrew Magill on Flickr

As I go about my daily routine, I can’t help but notice there are certain things we use over and over and over again. Things I’m constantly having to buy. Sometimes it’s alarming and I have to check with other mommies and perform the “Is my kid normal?” test. You know, where you call up your MBFF (Mommy Best Friend Forever…or until we form parenting policies which conflict, in which case we’ll probably go our separate ways and will wonder WTF ever happened with HER?…I mean…) and you say, “Do YOU go through 4 gallons of milk a week? Do I need to start a dairy farm?” or “My kids have eaten an entire bunch of bananas in 24 hours. Is there anything medically wrong with that?”

Rest assured. MOST of the time these things are normal.

Knowing these things are pretty much universal makes me wish I’d had the foresight to buy stock in certain companies. If I’d done it, I think I singlehandedly could have funded my children’s college accounts with the products I buy everyday. Yeah. I’m not going to do the actual math there either, but you get the point. Of course, now that I actually have to buy these products to keep the family train running, I have no money for stock. *sigh* Hindsight. Catch 22. Murphy’s Law. And all that jazz.

10 Stocks I Wish I Would Have Purchased Before Having Kids

1. Some Big Corporate Dairy Farm

If I had purchased stock in a dairy farm back before I had kids, the 4 gallons of milk a WEEK I (and other moms) buy would be paying off nicely. I did the math. Milk is approximately $3.50 a gallon where I live. That means I spend about $14 a week on milk. Which is a little more than $56 a month, or $672 a year. On just MILK. We also eat a lot of cheese. And yogurt. If my shares in a dairy farm wouldn’t amount to college fund levels, they’d at least support the habit, I’d think.

Image by miguelb on Flickr

2. Diapers

Eventually moms get smart and figure out how to get better deals on diapers. Or they start using cloth diapers. Or they know that generic diapers are just as good, most of the time, as the expensive brands. But at first, you can ONLY USE THE BEST! Right? I mean, doesn’t YOUR baby need the softest, prettiest smelling, most expensive, BEST diapers at the store for his or her brand new tooshie? Figuring in that newborn babies go through somewhere between 8 and 12 diapers a day (I’ll use an even 10 for my figures here), that’s about 300 diapers a month. At this exact moment, a certain Brand Name Diaper is selling for $49.59 for a box of 234. So, the average baby goes through about 1.3 boxes of diapers a month. That’s $63.47 a month, $761.60 per year. I had twins. So, ya know…do the math AGAIN.

3. Formula 

I feel like all of these things come with disclaimers. Like…yada, yada, yada…this one wouldn’t matter if you breastfed. I would just like to say that I DID. But I ALSO used formula at the end. And some moms use formula all the time. And you know what, Boobie Nazis??? It doesn’t really matter. *phew*

Anyhow. Formula. Another thing some moms get smart about buying generic. But, big name brand formula costs about $25 per can. The average child goes through 1 can per week. That’s $100 per month on formula. Or $1200 a year. And most babies are either on formula or breast milk for their entire first year before they switch to milk (which is only slightly cheaper, as we saw above).

4. Batteries

From birth, kids start accumulating toys. Toys take batteries. Toys eat batteries at alarming rates. I haven’t done the math on the weekly/monthly/yearly cost. But let’s just say we are always in need of batteries here. All sizes. Be they AA, AAA, C, D, or 9 Volt, we’ve got a toy that takes it.

5. Plastic

This one is a little more abstract, since I don’t buy the plastic directly. But everything we have is made of it. Car seats. High chairs. Toys. Bottles. Pacifiers. Sippy cups. Bowls. Forks. Spoons. Bike helmets. DVD cases. Baby swings for our swing set. And on and on and on. Of course, I really wish things WEREN’T made of plastic so much. But, it is what it is and if I have to live with it, I might as well make money on it, right? If only I’d bought the stock!

Image by Rex Roof on Flickr

6. Cereal

If you are what you eat, then my kids are shredded wheat. At least it’s healthy, right? I wonder if the Kashi company is public? Hmm. (Yes, sometimes they eat Froot Loops too. Who doesn’t?)

7. Starbucks

Mommy needs coffee. Just sayin’.

8. A Vineyard/Wine

Um. I’d like to say it’s because Mommy is cultured. But we all know that’s not true.

9. Laundry Detergent

Something they don’t tell you before you have kids is that children = laundry. Laundry requires soap. The soap is expensive. Especially if your daughter breaks out in a rash from any brand that isn’t Tide.

10. Fruit

Whatever big food company owns the farms for all the fruit in the store. That’s the one I want. We eat an alarming amount of oranges, bananas, apples, blueberries, and strawberries in my house. In fact, if my kids are made predominantly of cereal, the secondary element in their composition is fruit.

Image by Daniel Oines on Flickr

Of course, who am I kidding? I could cover all of my above bases by purchasing stock in Target (aka Mommy Heaven). Even the wine. Let’s count all the reasons why I shop there: shopping carts with seats for all 3 of my kids (that’s honestly the biggest reason right there, not kidding!), decent prices, I can buy groceries AND shoes for the kids (read: Mommy) all at once. Winning!

If I could go back in time, I’d tell my younger self to start buying Target stock. Forget 401K or Roth IRAs. Then we’d flash forward again to now. I’d be cleaning out some random file and it’d be like one of those time capsules where I’d be all, “Oh, look. There’s this funny piece of paper with a red target on it and according to it, we’re FILTHY RICH!” Oh…that only happens in the movies? And only with Apple stock? Shoot. Oh well!

Image by DonkeyHotey on Flickr

The Couch.

I’ve spoken of it here loosely.

I’ve talked about it on Facebook lightly.

But until now, I’ve not regaled you with the full tale. It’s one of hope. Of expectations. Of let-down. Disappointment. Defeat. Humiliation. And of giving up. Ultimately, it’s not a happy tale.

Let us begin, as all fairy tales do: Once Upon a Time in a Land Far, Far Away lived The Family.

The Family had a dream.  A dream of a furnished basement. A place where The Parents could sit and fold laundry while The Children played with toys. A place where movies could be watched and popcorn eaten and family nights made. A place where future friends would come to hang out and The Parents would never have to worry about what The Children were doing while they were away, because they’d be home.

The dream required a couch. One that could seat many people at once. One that could perhaps be used as a place to sleep if many guests stayed the night. One that was comfortable. One that was low maintenance. And lastly, one that was inexpensive. As The Parents were not made of money.

And so a quest had begun.

The dangerous land of Furniture Store. (Image by Mark Hillary of Flickr)

The Family trekked to the dangerous land of Furniture Store in search of The Couch. Furniture Store was deceptive in its attractive charms. Hundreds of square feet of traps. At first, the traps appeared to be innocent displays. But as The Family approached each display, the evil trolls of Furniture Store reared their faces and said, “Hello, what sort of furniture are you looking for today?”

When The Family said, “We’re just browsing, thanks!”, the trolls hid, but appeared again at each display and tried to catch The Family with the Web of Lies.

“That’s on sale, you know. Today only.”

“Exclusive to our store. You can only get that one here.”

“You won’t find a better deal on that anywhere.”

The Family, thinking they had above-average intelligence, was on to the scams of the trolls and didn’t believe a word. The Family sat on a few couches, used their secret weapon of smiling and nodding, and left the store buying nothing. But they believed they had found The Couch.

A victory.

A false victory.

The Man of The Family had many talents. Spelunking the depths of the oft-dangerous Cave of Internet one of his best. But on this day, it would fail him. The Man knew the evil trolls of Furniture Store were lying when they said a better deal could not be found elsewhere. And he was right. A better deal was found.

But at what price?

(Image by winnifredxoxo on Flickr)

The Man ordered The Couch from The Website of Deception. Being a website of deception, it did not call itself by that name of course. It went by something innocent, like Discount Furniture Website. The man found The Couch and placed the order. The Website of Deception promised, among many things, The Couch’s delivery date would be scheduled in 2-to-4 weeks.

So The Family waited. The Man worked diligently finishing other tasks in the basement so it would be ready for The Couch. He removed the Panels of Ugliness from the walls.

Two-to-four weeks had passed. A messenger sent an email saying delivery of The Couch would happen in 1-to-2 weeks.

And The Family waited.

The Man repaired sheet rock and built a dividing jut in the wall to separate the space from the rest of the basement.

One-to-Two weeks passed.

And still, The Family waited another week, as they understood that sometimes things can be delayed. But after that, they began to worry.

The Man called The Overlords of The Website of Deception and was told, “We are very sorry for the delay, sir. We expect shipment to be in 1-to-2 weeks.”

Thinking this was an annoyance, but not that bad considering the money he saved, The Man went back to work. He removed old ceiling tiles and replaced them. He ordered the equipment necessary to make a home theater.

The Family waited.

One by one the speakers arrived. And the screen. And the 3-D glasses. And the Blu Ray player. But not The Couch.

The Man spoke with The Overlords again and tried to cancel the order. But The Overlords said 30% of The Man’s payment would be sacrificed as a restock fee so long as the delivery was expected to happen in 1-to-2 weeks. Pay no mind to any of the previous 1-to-2 weeks when delivery didn’t happen. Because as of right now, delivery was expected in 1-to-2 weeks.

So The Man went back to work. He primed and painted the walls.

The Family waited.

One-to-two weeks went by.

Still…The Couch had not arrived. The Man was so sick of the lies of The Overlords, he asked to speak with The King. At first, The King was friendly. He said, “Oh! Silly us. The color of couch you want is back ordered. That’s all. If you would switch to the darker color, you could have it much sooner.” The Man, not really caring what color The Couch was, decided this was fine. An agreement was made and all seemed to be peaceful again. The King said The Man could expect delivery of The Couch in…

…you guessed it…1-to-2 more weeks.

So The Man went back to work and performed the magic of lighting and wires.

And The Family waited.

One-to-two weeks passed and Huzzah! The Couch delivery was scheduled. The Woman of The Family waited semi-patiently the day of delivery. Within the agreed upon four-hour window, a delivery was made. The Woman watched as a delivery man unloaded a small square section of The Couch from his truck and she sighed contentedly. Finally. It was here and The Family could move on.

Our delivery truck was real, but it may as well have been built from blocks. (Image by Bill Ward on Flickr)y

She backed away from the window to attend to The Children who were hungry. She began to make lunch and minutes later there was a knock at the door. The delivery man informed her it was time to inspect the delivery. The Woman thought it was a bit soon, but perhaps the delivery man was faster than she had given him credit for. He was a professional after all.

The Woman went into the garage where the delivery sat (The Website of Deception only provided curbside delivery, one sacrifices convenience for a low, low price). One single square. The very same square which had been unloaded from the truck when The Woman was watching. “Is this it?” she asked. “I thought we ordered a whole couch.”

It was indeed it.

The Woman called The Man and she was not happy. The Man was not happy either, partly because The Woman was not happy, but also because he wanted his entire couch. So he called The King. The King said there must have been some mistake, the rest of The Couch would soon be on its way in…

…1-to-2 weeks.

So The Man went back to work. And The Woman fumed. The Man hung The Screen of the Giants and the home theater was all but complete.

Finally. Another delivery day arrived and the rest of The Couch arrived in its entirety.

The Man laughed. He said, “That was sure a pain, but you know, maybe it was for the best. I wouldn’t have wanted The Couch down there while I was doing all that messy work anyhow.” The Woman shook her head. At least it was over.

Or so they thought.

The day The Family decided to bring The Couch into the basement, The Man made a most unwelcome discovery. The Couch was damaged.

The Damage

Since they had signed a paper approving the delivery before undoing the miles of shrink-wrap, The Family was informed (by the now evil King) they had to solve this issue on their own. And so The Family had to seek the help of The Knights of Furniture Repair. A few knights valiantly attempted to woo The Family, but in the end only one was selected to perform the service.

The Knight was able. Albeit…weird. And The Woman learned all about his feelings on politics, products made in China, website security, customer service at Best Buy, his nasty divorce, and how much money he had in his bank account and the bank the money was held in. Perhaps this was why The Knight had issues with identity theft. At any rate, despite his rather uncouth personality, The Knight was true to his word and The Couch was repaired.

Family movie night

At the end of the day, The Family spent approximately $125 less than if they had purchased The Couch at Furniture Store. Including the cost of the repair. But not factoring in the cost of their time. They called it a wash and settled in for many a movie night. Because what else could they do? They were a bit embarrassed, defeated, and tired. But ultimately wiser for the experience. They thought perhaps all quests were a bit like this.

The Woman thought the story ended there and thought on several occasions she could tell it to The Villagers [that's you]. For caution or entertainment she wasn’t sure. But just yesterday, as she was searching for Legos of Evilness, she pushed the ottoman out of the way…and the foot fell off. And she cursed the stupid piece of….

Anyway.

There you have it. The Tale of The Couch.

The moral of the story: Never order furniture from the Cave of Internet and if you do, seek the advice of The Wizards of Better Business Bureau (who could have informed The Family that The Website of Deception had an “F” ranking and they should stay away). And always inspect delivery, even if it will take garden shears and tons of patience to undo the shrink-wrap.

All of it. The whole road trip package. I love it.

Or. I did. Before I had kids. But that’s a post for a Monday.

I recently read the memoir States of Confusion: My 19,000-Mile Detour to Find Direction by Paul Jury.

In it Jury embarks on a mission: Drive through all 48 contiguous states in 48 days. When I first read that, I thought, “Impossible!” A day a state? How could it be done? But with some creative navigating, it’s definitely possible (so long as you have a reliable vehicle and enough money for gas…but that’s not the point). I mean, you really only have to visit a small part of a state to be IN it. You don’t necessarily have to drive through the entire thing. Of course, if you only visit the very tip of say, Iowa, are you really witnessing all the state has to offer? Or is one road just like the next and the next and the next? Only with different colored license plates and varying speed limit regulations.

That’s part of the fun of this story, and some of the questions Jury has to answer along the way. Is every adventure epic?

I completely related to Jury’s life view in the book. From the dates listed, I suspect we are the same age. In fact, I was starting my own “road trip” around the same time. Ironically, my big Life Changing Moment was moving to Chicago (you’ll understand the irony if you read the book).

But what I thought was missing, and mainly for my own enjoyment purposes because it’s not the point of the book, was road side kitsch. What’s a good road trip without it? Mystery spots, biggest ball of (fill in the blank), gift shops offering nothing but sea shells. That’s the good stuff. It got me to thinking of some of my own favorite road side spots.

1.) Mars Cheese Castle–Kenosha, WI

My husband’s family lives in Minnesota. Before I met him, I dated someone who had family in Milwaukee. Needless to say, I’ve driven the stretch of I-94 between Milwaukee and Chicago more times than I can count. When you see THIS sign greeting you from the highway, you HAVE TO stop. It’s like, a rule or something. Of life.

Image by Beige Alert (Michael Pereckas) on Flickr

Inside Mars Cheese Castle you’ll find an array of freshly made Wisconsin cheese and other dairy products (including cheese curds, which are also a road trip rule if you’re driving through Wisconsin), sausages, fruit, crackers, cakes, cookies, and sandwiches. But the best part is probably the gift shop. Where kitsch lives. Salt and pepper shakers shaped like cow udders? Yes, please!

These are udderly amazing! No kitchen is complete without them.

2.) Mystery Spot–St. Ignace, MI

Anyone who grew up in Michigan will tell you the thing to do on weekends is go “Up North”. Always. It’s never a question. Come Memorial Day, or Labor Day, or Friday, really, we went Up North.  Luckily for my family, my grandparents lived Up North. They owned a little motel in St. Ignace (gateway to Mackinac Island…and don’t you dare pronounce that “c” at the end). On the way we passed another sign which beckoned travelers from the road.

Image by Cjayn650 on Photobucket

Oh the pain my siblings and I must have been to my parents! Because they didn’t really believe in the same Rules of the Road that we did. Like I said, now that I have kids, I understand. But there was a point in my life where I thought, “If you see a sign advertising a Mystery Spot, you go.”

The fun (fun, fun) of the Mystery Spot, besides tourist trap kitschy souvenirs, is the super-magnetized, gravity-defying-ness of it. There are several Mystery Spots scattered throughout the country. The legend of the St. Ignace Mystery Spot (from its website) goes like this:

“In the early 1950’s, 3 surveyors named Clarence, Fred and McCray came from California to explore the Upper Peninsula.  They stumbled across an area of land where their surveying equipment didn’t seem to work properly.  For instance, no matter how many times they tried to level their tripod, through the use of a plum-bob or level, the plum-bob would always be drawn far to the east, even as the level was reading level.  As they continued their research of this land, they noticed a constant feeling of being light-headed.  Later, realizing their queasiness and problems with the surveying equipment only occurred in an area about 300 feet in diameter, they felt they had discovered a “Mystery Spot”.

Millions have visited they Mystery Spot and many return year after year to experience the unusual sensations that occur within its boundaries.”

Oooh. Balance is all out of whack. Cool. (Image by Betsy Weber on Flickr)

Visitors can climb a wall and not fall, or sit a chair with its back legs resting on a beam, but not the front legs. A-Mazing! And totally necessary if you are even a little bit adventurous.

3.) Giant Uniroyal Tire–Allen Park, MI

Along I-94 in Michigan, near the Metro Airport, is the Giant Uniroyal Tire. You can’t miss it. It’s not so much a tourist attraction, since I don’t know if you can actually go inside, as it is a roadside icon.

The Giant Tire is roadside fair at its finest. (Image by Betsy Weber on Flickr)

The history books (or a PDF from Uniroyal) state the tire was originally created as a Ferris wheel for the 1964-1965 World’s Fair in New York City. After completing its Ferris-y destiny, the wheel was relocated to Allen Park, MI. It’s received a few face lifts over the years, but it’s still there, turning heads every day.

Someday, so long as my children cooperate, I’d love to take a kitschy road trip and visit other destinations of man-made and natural wonder. What are your favorite road side attractions?

The greatest time suck known to man (or, actually, mostly to women it seems).

You look for the things. You like the things. You pin the things with a handy button installed on your bookmark bar. Then the things are on your virtual pin board so you can feel all organized and smart and stuff.

I’ve been at it about a week. Here are my thoughts so far.

1.) Man, people are effing brilliant

One of those cheap hangers you bring back from the store? Break off the clippy part. Insta Chip Clip. I KNOW! Why didn't WE think of this?

I mean, I must have at least 10 of these hangers sitting around my house. I’ve tried reusing them to hang pants and things, but they just don’t mesh well with my other hangers. Yet I feel weird just throwing them away. You could also use these clips as clothes pins. Or binder clips. Or to pin your children’s mouths shut. (Just kidding on that last one…but admit it, for at least a half second you thought, “Now THAT is a good idea!” No?)

2.) But while I love the beauty of information sharing, I mourn the loss of individual creativity. 

Applesauce, juice box, half pretzel rod for each arm, raisin box feet, spoon antenna, eyes.

I have seen this pinned no less than 800 times (OK, maybe a little less than that). Those little guys are SO cute. I bet they’d be a hit at a birthday party as a take-home favor. But it kind of makes me think of the old, “If everybody is special, nobody is.” We can’t ALL make juice box robots, or everyone will have them. Ya know? And dammit. If I have a robot, I want him to be a snowflake! A special, special snowflake. I don’t pass up the pre-made Sponge Bob favor bags just so you can say, “Oh. I saw that on Pinterest.” I want you to revel in my awesomeness!

I think finding inspiration from ideas like this is great. Maybe you could make a different juice box sculpture. Or make a robot out of different items. And hey, nobody’s stopping you from making this exact thing. I just hope that Pinterest will inspire us to build on and improve ideas, not just steal them.

3.) I am woefully under-skilled

Oh hey, look, a cute ruffle pillow. The tutorial says it's SO easy. Yeah, unless you have no clue how to use a sewing machine. *sigh*

My family has lived in our house for a year now. We’ve not done much in the way of decorating or improving it. My husband did recently finish his home theater in the basement. We are now the proud owners of a 100 inch projection screen with some fancy 7 point something surround sound system (whatever that means). While I contemplate what this says about our priorities that it was the first room we redid, I am now inspired to make the rest of the house pretty.

Enter: Pinterest

If you are looking to redo your kitchen, decorate your bedroom, or update your window treatments, you will find a million ideas. I’ve pinned a bunch. Then I think, “There is no way I can accomplish this. I can’t sew/build/paint/draw/keep the kids out of my hair long enough.” What I really need is the ability to open my pin board so the original creator can crawl through my computer screen ala the creepy girl in The Ring. Then she can do the job for me and crawl back home. If Pinterest is soooo brilliant, surely the developers can make this happen, right? Let’s get on that. (Yeah…I could hire a decorator or buy something at a store, but where’s the fun in that?)

4.) Oh, but there are unskilled ideas too

No sew faux roman shades

Window treatments I can make using a hot glue gun? Really? Even I can do that. There is hope for my house after all.

5.) The recipes! Oh the recipes! (They are going to kill me)

These are called "Slutty Brownies"

Let me just spell that out for you: Layer of chocolate chip cookie, layer of Oreo cookies, layer of brownies. In other words, fat for: my thighs, my love handles, and my stomach.

There are healthy recipes too, but where’s the fun in pinning those?

6.) Cool ideas for the kids

Tape words to Lego blocks. Build sentences.

How cool is this? My son HATES anything that resembles “homework” (hey, he’s four, I think homework is a little much for a  kid his age anyway. *ahem* Off my soap box). But the fact remains  he does still need to learn stuff. He likes building blocks. I think he’d like this. To tone it down for his age, I’d probably put single letters on the blocks instead and then have  him spell words. After that we can upgrade to sentence making.

7.) But will I ever actually MAKE any of this stuff?

Laundry basket dresser

This remains to be seen. I’ve not been on Pinterest long enough to say for myself. I’d like to think so. I do need to organize, decorate, and redo the vast majority of my house. Some things more than others (like I could really use a more functional laundry space). But, I can see myself pinning things and then never getting around to them. Which kind of turns Pinterest into one big cheer-for-THAT-person fest. But that’s OK (see point #1).

Are you on Pinterest? What’s the most amazing/hilarious/calorie-ridden idea you’ve seen so far?

P.S. My husband emailed me to say, “It’s a 110 inch screen. 100 would be kind of small.” Men!

So, imagine my heartbreak this morning as I heard my son crying the cry of sorrow.

“He’s dead, Mommy! Snowbally is dead!”

Over the weekend it had snowed (and I promise I did not talk about it on Facebook), and being the opportunists they are, my husband and son went sledding and built a snowman. My son named the snowman Snowbally. This has become a trend, by the way, this rather non-creative naming of things. Like if we had given Zoobie the Bear to my son today, his name would most likely be Beary.

My son was very excited to have built Snowbally. Right outside the backdoor too, so we could see him all the time. When my son went to bed last night, Snowbally was safe and sound. But when my son woke up in the morning, it had rained all night and Snowbally looked like this:

All that remains of Snowbally

As adults we know that this kind of thing happens. Snow melts. So therefore so do snowmen. But imagine being 4  years old. He knows that snow melts, but probably wasn’t expecting it over night. So to him, Snowbally had DIED. (He may have inherited a flair for the dramatic from his mother)

I had to think fast, because 1.) I did NOT want to have a death conversation at 7:30 in the morning and 2.) While I can sympathize with his cries, it doesn’t mean I don’t get headaches from them too.

I remembered a lovely little book we received as a gift and it came to our rescue! Sadie and the Snowman by Allen Morgan, illustrated by Brenda Clark.

In the story, Sadie builds a snowman. Every time he begins to melt, she saves a little bit of the snow and rebuilds him again. At the end of the winter, when there will be no more snow to rebuild the snowman, she puts some of the snowman in a plastic bag and sticks him in the freezer. That way next winter she can rebuild him again. So that’s what we did too.

Saving Snowbally

Now the next time it snows, we can rebuild Snowbally from the same snowball he came from. No more tears. Well, until the kids start fighting over a toy. But that’s a different kid of cry.

P.S. Wow. This is my 100th post! Had I realized it before, I may have tried to mark this momentous occasion with a fireworks display or something. Just picture one in your head, OK? *Boom* *Ooh!* *Ahh!* *Boom*

Image by whitneyinchicago on Flickr

Just a quick random thought for a Friday.

Occasionally I try to do something crazy, like make a vegetarian meal for my family. It’s risky. Vegetables in general are when you’re serving 2 toddlers and a preschooler. My son has gotten to the point where if there is even a speck of green on his plate, he won’t touch a single thing. Which leads to many nights of him not eating dinner at all (because mommy is NOT a short order cook). Once in a blue moon he decides he likes broccoli, and then I feed it to him by the plateful hoping the nutrients will somehow stock up. Like he’s got a bomb shelter of stored vegetables in there somewhere.

Anyway, every time I browse through recipe sites for new things to try, I cringe when I read the statement, “So good, you won’t miss the meat!”

I get why a recipe writer may make such a statement (or a recipe reviewer, marketing department for a food company, etc.). They are trying to appeal to us meat and potato lovers, get us to try something new.

Here’s the thing.

Every time I make a recipe like that, I test the statement.

*Bite* Do I miss the meat yet?

*Bite* How about now?

*Bite* Now?

*Bite* Yeah, this could use some chicken or something. 

If no one planted the seed in my head that I was supposed to be comparing the dish to meat, I’d probably enjoy it more. Appreciate the beans for beans and vegetables for vegetables, not testing to see if they’d satisfy me like steak. Because,  unless you’re an honest-to-God vegetarian, nothing satisfies like steak.

That’s all.

Off to browse more soup recipes. Anyone have a good one?