Racing Stripes

Uuuuggghhhhh! I think I'm going to stab my eyes out. I've been online looking at houses on Realtor.com, and I swear, if I see or hear the words "potential", "bungalow", or "needs some TLC" one more time, I'm going to explode! But, I must remember, we ARE looking for a house- YIIPPPEEEEEE. Which reminds me, I need to re-pack all the boxes we just finished unpacking. NOT yippee.

Apparently, people have been a little peeved that I haven't been keeping up my blog. To them I say, if my sad life is what you have to look forward to, I apologize. No more guilt trips, please, I'm doing this solo. I keep trying to get Scott to type, but he does as much typing as he does talking (except when it comes to the kids). Maybe he should vent his frustrations towards the kids on the blog- now wouldn't THAT be a hoot to read (not).

Rand McNally called me today. Seems they've gotten some anonymous tips and they would like to map out my stretch marks and vericose veins. Apparently things have gotten out of hand. I, personally, like to think of them as "racing stripes". Sounds better, at least. Why isn't being exasperated at your kids considered a work out? I mean, I sweat, I grunt, my heart races- everything I would be doing at the gym, and yet- not a pound drops off. Perhaps its the gallon of ice cream I eat after they go to bed. Got milk?

We ran out of milk yesterday, and Scott and I played the "we need milk" game until midnight. We both lost. The kids, however, won. Leftover cake for breakfast- the breakfast of champions.

Well, there you go people. I think I've been spoiling you by writing every day. Perhaps if I wait a week, you'll be happy with every other day. For my sanity, I'll try and keep up as much as possible.