This month I'm turning over a new leaf. Well, more like an old leaf. But not a smelly old leaf that's seen a year or two of bug nests and dog urine. A good leaf. A better leaf. A leaf of.. of... excellence!
"A leaf of excellence"? This is what happens when I blog at 12:30AM. This is what I'm reduced to after several hours without caffeine in my veins. I'm desperate for good jokes and witty comparisons, yet lack in both. For shame, Maven. For shame.
Here's the underside of the new leaf: I'm going to blog at least once every two days this month. No, seriously. I actually mean it. I'll make myself sit down and write out the epic tales that make up my life. All three of my readers will learn about our exciting trips to people's homes, the mall and the backyard. They will enjoy every savoury pound of my weight loss as I stand triumphantly (or fearfully) on the scale every morning. They will see the antics of the gremlins unfold before their very eyes in prose so rich and interwoven that they won't be able to turn away from the screen.
Oh, yes. It will be marvelous. The Maven is back! Not four-posts-in-a-month back. That's commitment fit for a little sissy man. Since I am a girl and not a man and big instead of little and not so much a sissy but more of a hot mess, that amount of writing will no longer suffice.
Besides, I'm a new, improved maven. I eat berries every day which are rich in antioxidants and fiber. I see a chiropractor to get myself adjusted so I can sit better in my blogging chair. I no longer have an ass groove on the couch because I'm always up and moving.
(I kind of miss my comfy ass groove so I might as well rekindle the romance with the blogging chair anyway.)
This arrangement could work out well for all four of us. Together we can get me back into writing and get you back into wasting time reading my crap. You can read about what a terrible mother I am and thus feel superior in your own parenting. You can skim through paragraphs describing my disastrous abode while you smirk and glance around your cleaner one (because you either have no children or you hire someone or you have absolutely no life, I might add. Those are the reasons why I can't possibly be jealous of you and your clean house. Well, only a little jealous, then.)
I will make you feel good about yourself again. I will make you happy you're not me. You'll get more and more reminders why it's so damn good to be you. And I will actually answer your emails, too. I've been bad about that. Blame the restricted caloric intake and its effect on my shriveled little brain.
Anyway, I should go to bed soon. I have big plans tomorrow. See, I have this friend. We'll call her The Butler Did It. Anyway, TBDI was foolish enough to - get this - invite myself and all the gremlins and - are you ready for this? It's so good - the dog...
for a sleepover.
HAH!
But it gets better!
Her husband and I were great friends growing up. We used to wreak havoc upon our sleepy little neighbourhood back in the day. We were bad, man. Really bad. He has now spawned three of his own hooved wonders who intermingle quite nicely with my own. Combined, he and I have created triple the minions to follow in our footsteps, which I must say I'm very proud of.
But anyway, that's besides the point... The bigger issue is this: Who invites us for a sleepover? Why would you do that to yourself? Are the four of us not enough? You also need to have our hellhound over?
I have a very sensible theory.
I think she has suicidal tendencies but she just hasn't had enough motivation to go through with it. She must figure a good 24 hours with The Maven and co. will give her the added incentive she needs.
What she doesn't realize is that, if the boys and I put in a solid 10 hours, we could get her on the roof without having to change into our pajamas. We're really that good at what we do when we put our minds to it.
If she survives this I'm going to be very impressed. If she survives this and invites us back ever again I'm going to place her on my list of Gods to pray to. It will really take a miracle.
But the Gods are smiling in my favour lately. When Jobthingy was over on Friday (and the lovely Sky Girl, and their crumb snatchers, which is entirely documented on Job's blog along with pics, so go have a looky), Jobthizzy had a momentary lapse of reason and offered to watch our boys overnight sometime this month.
Did you read that correctly? Go back and read it again.
I was flabbergasted. Excited, terrified, but mostly flabbergasted. I knew she was a bit nutty but this goes beyond anything she's pulled before.
Then, while we were at my uncle's cottage today, he and his significant other volunteered to take our boys for an overnight as well. This was after forcing me to sit on the couch with a trashy novel and making me a latte and NOT watch my children for a while.
Is this some cruel joke? I'm on Candid Camera, right?
But, um, if we're going for a blessed life, could I also get some money? Go big or go home, I always say.
And finally:
Starting weight on July 1st: 252lbs
Current weight: 243lbs.
Shazzam!
"A leaf of excellence"? This is what happens when I blog at 12:30AM. This is what I'm reduced to after several hours without caffeine in my veins. I'm desperate for good jokes and witty comparisons, yet lack in both. For shame, Maven. For shame.
Here's the underside of the new leaf: I'm going to blog at least once every two days this month. No, seriously. I actually mean it. I'll make myself sit down and write out the epic tales that make up my life. All three of my readers will learn about our exciting trips to people's homes, the mall and the backyard. They will enjoy every savoury pound of my weight loss as I stand triumphantly (or fearfully) on the scale every morning. They will see the antics of the gremlins unfold before their very eyes in prose so rich and interwoven that they won't be able to turn away from the screen.
Oh, yes. It will be marvelous. The Maven is back! Not four-posts-in-a-month back. That's commitment fit for a little sissy man. Since I am a girl and not a man and big instead of little and not so much a sissy but more of a hot mess, that amount of writing will no longer suffice.
Besides, I'm a new, improved maven. I eat berries every day which are rich in antioxidants and fiber. I see a chiropractor to get myself adjusted so I can sit better in my blogging chair. I no longer have an ass groove on the couch because I'm always up and moving.
(I kind of miss my comfy ass groove so I might as well rekindle the romance with the blogging chair anyway.)
This arrangement could work out well for all four of us. Together we can get me back into writing and get you back into wasting time reading my crap. You can read about what a terrible mother I am and thus feel superior in your own parenting. You can skim through paragraphs describing my disastrous abode while you smirk and glance around your cleaner one (because you either have no children or you hire someone or you have absolutely no life, I might add. Those are the reasons why I can't possibly be jealous of you and your clean house. Well, only a little jealous, then.)
I will make you feel good about yourself again. I will make you happy you're not me. You'll get more and more reminders why it's so damn good to be you. And I will actually answer your emails, too. I've been bad about that. Blame the restricted caloric intake and its effect on my shriveled little brain.
Anyway, I should go to bed soon. I have big plans tomorrow. See, I have this friend. We'll call her The Butler Did It. Anyway, TBDI was foolish enough to - get this - invite myself and all the gremlins and - are you ready for this? It's so good - the dog...
for a sleepover.
HAH!
But it gets better!
Her husband and I were great friends growing up. We used to wreak havoc upon our sleepy little neighbourhood back in the day. We were bad, man. Really bad. He has now spawned three of his own hooved wonders who intermingle quite nicely with my own. Combined, he and I have created triple the minions to follow in our footsteps, which I must say I'm very proud of.
But anyway, that's besides the point... The bigger issue is this: Who invites us for a sleepover? Why would you do that to yourself? Are the four of us not enough? You also need to have our hellhound over?
I have a very sensible theory.
I think she has suicidal tendencies but she just hasn't had enough motivation to go through with it. She must figure a good 24 hours with The Maven and co. will give her the added incentive she needs.
What she doesn't realize is that, if the boys and I put in a solid 10 hours, we could get her on the roof without having to change into our pajamas. We're really that good at what we do when we put our minds to it.
If she survives this I'm going to be very impressed. If she survives this and invites us back ever again I'm going to place her on my list of Gods to pray to. It will really take a miracle.
But the Gods are smiling in my favour lately. When Jobthingy was over on Friday (and the lovely Sky Girl, and their crumb snatchers, which is entirely documented on Job's blog along with pics, so go have a looky), Jobthizzy had a momentary lapse of reason and offered to watch our boys overnight sometime this month.
Did you read that correctly? Go back and read it again.
I was flabbergasted. Excited, terrified, but mostly flabbergasted. I knew she was a bit nutty but this goes beyond anything she's pulled before.
Then, while we were at my uncle's cottage today, he and his significant other volunteered to take our boys for an overnight as well. This was after forcing me to sit on the couch with a trashy novel and making me a latte and NOT watch my children for a while.
Is this some cruel joke? I'm on Candid Camera, right?
But, um, if we're going for a blessed life, could I also get some money? Go big or go home, I always say.
And finally:
Starting weight on July 1st: 252lbs
Current weight: 243lbs.
Shazzam!