By Heather O.
Just so you know, ‘Random Crap’ is code here at MMW for ‘I have nothing profound to say, my brain is actually slowly turning to mush, but we put something up to keep y’all coming back because our traffic stats are sacred’. I tell you this in the interest of full disclosure, lest you think we tricked you somehow into thinking this blog was thoughtful. We are now no longer liable for your brain turning into mush as you read us. See? Sometimes it pays to have a husband who studies the law.
I joined Facebook yesterday at the request of a friend I haven’t seen or talked to in years. I like this friend, and she has exceptionally cute children whom I miss very much, so I decided to join the revolution so I can troll the internet for pictures of other people’s kids I know and decide if they are as cute as mine. Behold, yet another way to completely waste my time sitting on my bum, ignoring my laundry.
Poor laundry. It’s like the drunk red-headed uncle at the family party nobody likes to talk to, but everybody knows is there. Especially when it starts to stink.
The only problem with Facebook is that when I find other people and link them as friends, I discover how exciting their lives are, and again, I want to ignore my laundry and whisk my family away to some African jungle Safari just so I can take pictures, post them on my profile, and say SEE? We’re cool TOO!
Hmmm…now there’s a thought for Spring Break…
I got a flyer in the mail last week with a big picture of our local hospital on it. The flyer read, ‘Do you want to work here? We have a job for you on the weekends! Call us!’ My mouth fell open, because yes, I do want to work there, and I was just wondering if they had a job for me, and it was sort of something like out of the movies. If I worked there on the weekends, Dh could stay with the kids so we wouldn’t have to spring for childcare, and I would be able to patch the hole in my resume that is the year 2007.
But having a job would seriously cut into my Facebook time, not to mention COMPLETELY conflicting with my jungle safari plan.
Life’s full of tough choices, dang it.
Spring is here, which means, of course, that our garden is up and going. I planted lots of good stuff, and proudly pointed it all out to DH when he got home from his business trip. He said, “You didn’t plant them in straight rows.”
Well, of COURSE I planted them in straight rows, except for the part where I had some extra seeds in my hands, which I just sort of brushed into the dirt because I didn’t feel like composting them, or throwing them away, or actually getting up and walking the three steps to where the seed packet package was and putting them back in.
It should be an interesting harvest.
But everything is labeled with some very cool professional looking label thingies I picked up at Home Depot, so that makes up for it all. Besides, most people around here don’t know the difference between a radish stalk and a weed, so they still think we’re cool for even having a garden, even if it will look a little higgledy piggledy AND we’ve never been on an African safari. We have good neighbors who just love us for WHO WE ARE.
Plus, we’re going to let them have some free blueberries from the blueberry bushes that I am ordering today, so even if they don’t like us, they will have to suck up to us if they want some of that free blueberry goodness. And I’m ok with that.
New word for the day: oviparous. Anybody know what that means? Well, I’ll tell you. It means that an animal lays eggs. And how do I know this? Because I had the following conversation with my 6 year old last night:
“Mom, isn’t it funny that a spider lays eggs AND has hair? Spiders are sort of like mammals like that.”
“Spiders aren’t mammals, honey. And their hair is different than ours. Spiders are called arachnids.”
(in his best “DUH” voice), “I KNOW spiders aren’t mammals, mom. They’re oviparous, but they still have hair, which makes them HALF oviparous, and, like, sort of HALF mammal.”
Even DH had never heard the word oviparous. And that man has the vocabulary of Zeus. (Ok, I don’t really know if that means anything, what I’m trying to say is that DH uses lots and lots of big ‘ol words.)
See? There you have it. A new word for y’all. Our brains aren’t mushy after all. Don’t ever say we don’t teach you here at MMW. We are nothing if not educational.
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