At what point will I learn that no matter how good it feels to shove a Qtip allllll the way down in my ear and swirl it around to itch in there, that the next day my ears are going to hurt really really bad? I mean really, I do this shit at least once a week. And then, when they hurt I keep sticking my fingers in them and wiggling them around and guess what?
THAT DOESN'T MAKE THEM FEEL ANY BETTER. Someone needs to confiscate my Qtip supply. Although, that wouldn't really help because I also love sticking paper clips in my ears. And, you can't hide all the paper clips in the world.


My next letter to my son will go something like this.

Dear Brandon,
I realize that some day, with all the advances in education you will probably be smarter then me. But, really son, right now, while you are a little baby, can you at least let mom think she is smarter then you. You don't have to show me all the time that you can outsmart me. I know that you can reach the counter, you don't have to pull out the drawers and climb them to show me. You don't have to run to daddy when mom says no, to show me that you can have anything you want. You don't have to remove your DVD, put it back in, push power, push play and start your movie over just to show me that you can do it. You don't have to plug and unplug my computer 43 times a day, I know how to do it just fine. It really is okay for my keyboard at work to stay plugged in. I know you like to show me that you can unplug it but really, I remember that from the last 33 times you did it. Also I am very proud that you can open doors now, but you don't have to show me that while I'm butt naked in the dressing room, I don't think the people at Old Navy wanted to see my jigglies 4 times in one day. I get that you can maneuver out of anything, but JUST ONCE, can you please please, stay seated in the shopping cart? Although using the self check thingy at the grocery store has proved quite challenging for me, I don't need you to jump into the cart and start launching yogurt and soup at me and the scanner to show us you know how to do it. I am proud that you can push stuff around and use it as a stool but please please stop pushing your stool next to my desk so you can climb up and take my pens, they are very happy in their pen holder. I am very glad you know how to feed yourself, but mom is very capable of feeding herself and I really don't need help shoving macaronis and cheetos in my mouth. Also I know how to drink from a cup so please stop shoving your sippy straw cup in my mouth, it makes me feel like I'm messy. I realize I spill most stuff on me, but I don't need you to point that out by offering your straw to me. I am very proud that you know how to open drawers, even the child proof ones. You don't have to remind me you know how to do this by getting in the drawer and getting out the bag of very very expensive dog treats and feeding the whole bag to the dogs while no one is looking. I also know you can open cabinet doors very well so you can stop hiding your milk in my pots and pans to remind me that you know how to do that. I am very proud that you know to put the toilet paper in the toilet but you don't have to illustrate this point by putting the entire roll in there and then smooshing it down with the plunger. I know that you can get your own milk from the fridge, and get your own cheetos, and you can do everything on your own, but maybe sometimes you can let mom do some stuff for you so she still feels a little needed. In fact, I would be perfectly fine if you would please put on your footie pajamas, and come fall asleep on my chest so I can pretend just for a day that you are still my little baby and not my big boy.

Love mom.

you wish you could sound sexy like me

First I would like to take a second to thank Emery for passing her stuffy, sneezy, coughy thing over to me. I know she secretly embedded the virus in her blog and thats how I got it! I'm at work today and this is how I am supposed to answer the phone:

Good morning Weakland's Heating & Air Condtioning Shannon Speaking.

Here is what I am saying:
Dood Borning WEkalkdaf Hetting & aaachoooo Conditioning Sharon smeekang

Sigh. If I never see another tissue I wouldn't mind...Cept actually I'm out of tissue which means I'm now wiping mine and Brandons boogers on my shirt.

You know your sick when

You are walking around your house with a tissue half stuffed up one side of your nose and half dangling out because its running so much. I toyed with the idea of giving ya'll a picture...but I would lost all credibility if I did that. So, for now you just get to make your own visual of how silly I look with my tissue dangling from my nose.

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