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Harry Potter Slow Jam

So far, I’ve found Twitter most useful for helping me find gems like this one. I know I’m a huge nerd, but I laughed out loud at the end. Enjoy!

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Happy Thursday, Y’all!

And I’m just gonna say, “You are WELCOME!” in advance. Trust me.

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Never would I ever…

…have thought I’d be where I am now. Never would I have believed it even possible. Obviously, I wouldn’t call my life a study in well-layed plans brilliantly executed. Like most everyone else, I’ve made the best decisions I could based on the information I had at the time, with mixed results overall.

But as I strolled through the grocery store yesterday with Sam and Tom hanging off either side of my buggy and Will tripping along behind wearing a ten-gallon cowboy hat, a silver buckled western belt, and ornately tooled cowboy boots — all with shorts and a t-shirt — I marveled at how far they’ve taken me as a mommy and a woman. **

I’ve bought groceries with four — count ’em — four kids in tow. I’ve lugged 4 children to the doctor for the benefit of one, and choked down my panic as the three healthy ones *gasp* touched things in the waiting room. I have safely monitored two new swimmers and two determined drowners in a pool, alone, all summer. I’ve dealt with blood and boogers, bruises and public breakdowns. And I’ve learned to do it without screaming myself hoarse (most of the time).

They’ve forced me to be more organized. Galvanized me to establish healthier habits for the whole family, and — above all — helped bring into focus what’s really important. Specifically, if you really want a thing, you can find a way to make it happen.

So there’s a notebook in my purse now as I run my errands. A story outline is taking shape — bit by bit — in my computer. And I am probably closer to the Jodi I always wanted to be than I’ve ever been.

Bottom line, had you asked me when I was young and foolish, I certainly would never have chosen this difficult road to enlightenment. I wouldn’t have had the courage. But thankfully, there was a different plan in store for me. And never would I ever go back again.

**I should probably add that for the sake of solidarity, Sam was also wearing cowboy boots, and Tom was wearing cowboy boots AND a set of chaps with their requisite summer uniform of a t-shirt and shorts. Publix was the place to be for unexpected entertainment yesterday. There were so many giggles and whispers that Sam turned to me and asked, “Mom, why does everyone think we’re so cool?” We should all have such a great attitude!

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Life With the Boys

“Mom!” Tom races to my side, stopping only when he slams into the arm of my chair. Still at full volume, despite being 3 inches from my face, he continues, “Mom! Jack is not sharing the DS!”

I hear a door slam across the house. “He’s shut his door,” Tom adds, belatedly.

“And he thlammed it!” Sam choruses.

Tom nods. “He slammed the door mom.”

I look up from my laptop. My characters have spent the last half hour switching allegiances, eras, races, gender… I sigh, maybe a break is just what I need.

I throw myself into DEFCON Level 3 negotiations for the Nintendo DS involving complicated algorithms that factor in time used, levels completed and cartridge switching rights. Once all parties are satisfied, or at least dissatisfied in equal measure, I turn back toward my computer.

“Hey, mom?” Will asks. Will hasn’t been a presence in the three way negotiation I’ve just completed, and I fervently pray we aren’t going to have to start a new series of arbitration.

“What is it babe?”

“In a lot of days, can we get a new baby?”

Points for the completely unexpected, but sorry big guy. That one’s non-negotiable.

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What I’m Reading…

Survey says: Young Adult Fiction. Specifically, the first two books in Rachel Hawkins’ Hex Hall series. My left eye is currently an ugly bloodshot mess because I’ve devoured both books in a 24 hour span. And I have to tell you, I loved every second. I’ve been looking for an author who could make reading fun again, and Rachel Hawkins has more than come through for me. I was reminded of many happy hours spent with Madeleine L’Engle — although Hawkins is a heck of a lot snarkier and funnier.

If you have a teenage daughter, I’d definitely recommend these. If you have two X chromosomes, I can state with confidence that you’ll get a kick out of these regardless of age. The third in the series isn’t out until March, so you could buy them both now and have a reading binge (like me), then drum your fingertips for seven months. Or maybe you could pace yourself and read a couple of chapters a night — prolonging the suspense and putting you on target for the third installment, Spellbound.

Honestly, it’s been a long time since I’ve felt inspired to write, despite my near obsessive devotion to “how-to” books, and I have to give a big shout out to Rachel Hawkins for lighting that little fire inside once again.

Geronimo!!!

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Well…that explains it

Sam raced toward me waving the torn nametag that normally denotes which shoe basket belongs to Will. “Mommy!!!” he panted. “I did NOT tore dis. Neither did Jack or Tom!!!”

With barely a glance away from the family computer, Will tosses over his shoulder, “Nah… I did it.”

Sam is physically taken aback. He goggles at Will, then me, then the torn paper and finally back to Will again.

“Why would you do that???” he asks.

“Because I changed my name to Mr. Messy,” Will replies matter-of-factly.

Then they both die laughing.

There’s no moral to this story — I just didn’t want to forget it.

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They said/I said

THEY will tell you their horrible mom burst into the middle of their tea party screaming, waving her arms and generally acting like the Mad Hatter on a bender.

MY version of events can be summed up in two words: Neti Pot.

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Dear Michael Stars:

I am writing today to tell you just how much I resent your “one size fits most” distinction. By “most” I can only assume you mean “Most underweight, pre-pubescent girls whose hips and boobs have yet to come in.” But, I imagine that would have been pretty tough to fit on a label.

And to the makers of the “Miracle Suit”, “Spanx” and various other body shapers: How is making me look like a sausage in a casing in any way more desirable than the natural curves of my 36-year-old body?

In short, wake up. The 11-21 year old age bracket may have a huge cache of expendable income, but don’t forget their mommies gave it to them. And we like to buy clothes, too.

End of rant.

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Finding Time

I’ve just spent an exorbitant chunk of my day on the thrilling task of syncing calendars — making sure my laptop, home computer and cell phone all talk to the giant cloud in the sky that keeps them all filled with identical information. I didn’t realize there was a problem until I showed up at 10:30 this morning for a 2:30 p.m. swim lesson. After emergently re-routing us to the local muffin shop (which was a REAL disappointment considering I’d just gone lo-carb this morning), I realized that the time change I’d made on my laptop hadn’t transmitted itself to my cell phone — the device that enables me to maintain a constant head count of four boys at day’s end.

So there was no choice but to park myself in front of the home computer and proceed to trouble shoot. After ages and ages of clicking and checking, cursing and clicking, I finally resolved the problem — or more truthfully, the ghost in the machine just got tired of monkeying around with me and gave up. Bottom line, everything looks to be in order, but how it got there is anybody’s guess.

So now we’re off to our swim lesson…again. And, in truth, there’s still plenty of daylight left. But I can’t help but resent the hour (and then some) burned in the pursuit of technological efficiency. Should we all just go back to paper and pencils?

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Left foot, right foot, left foot…

This is all I can manage. One foot in front of the other. I just now — this very second — started trying to type and now someone is screaming. This is not unusual. My normal is most people’s “Call 911!!!” I’ve come to accept it.

But since I’m too tired to blog, you should really go check out Joy the Baker. I’m her new biggest fan. You should be, too. I love her and I don’t even have any intention of baking anything. I just like looking at the pictures…and reading the funny things she says. So go do that, and feel free to thank me later.

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