Not the Mary Poppins I thought I'd be

It's only a couple of weeks into summer break and I've already run out of things to do, hiding from the heat and humidity in our Florida home. We've baked, done murals, played board games, finger painted with glow-in-the-dark paint (I'm not sure if you're supposed to do that), and visited the in-laws' pool every other day.

I'm considering getting a home waxing kit and letting the kids go for it on my legs. Like a science experiment. Everybody wins, right?

Wow.

THAT was the last blog I posted? Geez, I've written a bazillion blogs since that one.

In my head.

The churn.

If there's such a thing as a "beer butt," I have it.

I'm trying like crazy to slim down to something head-turningly fabulous in time for our upcoming ski trip, but it doesn't matter how many uneaten hotdog slices on my kid's plate I forgo, or how many FitTV sessions I cram in between finger-painting sessions; I digress my progress every night, with the TV's witness.

Every single night: Kids tucked in, check. Formless jammies, check. Remote control... hang on, Hubby has to scan the CourtTV reinactments, infomercials (oh, come ON!), COPS, SpikeTV. Wait until he needs to go to the bathroom.

NOW! OK, Remote control, check. Beer and beer-backup, check. Ahhh.

Is this wonderful or just sad?

I dunno, and I won't care after beer-backup-backup.

Ouch.

I'm miserable. Ever been stung by a wasp? I thought I had, back when I was a kid. But I don't remember anything like this.

I was pulling weeds in the landscaping because after we returned from vacation Tropical Storm Ernesto left behind a growth of Tropical Crab Grass. While leaning over the hedge I yanked on an alien foot-long grass strand and felt a flaming rake tearing across the back of my left hand. I envisioned poison nettle, but as I fell backwards, cursing in a way mommies do in front of their 5-year olds ("Holy SCHARFENBURGER!!!!") I saw the slow, taunting retreat of a wasp where my hand had been.

That was Sunday morning. It is now Monday night, and my hand has swollen to freak-size, so I guess the Benadryl, Ibuprofen, ice packs, and Icehouse aren't doing the trick. If I make it through the night without losing a digit, I'll be heading to the doc tomorrow morning.

Stupid nature.

Apathy-in-training

Is it normal for a stay-at-home mom to feel this lonely?

And it's not that I don't care, it's just that I'm learning to not care.

And speaking of suspected abnormalities, I think I love prosciutto more than I should. Does anyone besides me (and possibly Tony Soprano) snack on prosciutto?

That's not iFunny.

Last night I was marveling at our 2 year-old son who likes to walk up to my mac when it's playing iTunes, and navigate past the (frequently annoying) animated dock and click the tiny button to start up the music "visualizer" (mesmerizing screen swirlies).

5 minutes ago, however, I discovered him at my computer with a new achievement. He figured out how to navigate into the iTunes Music Store and purchase songs.

Those two Matisyahu songs are coming out of your college fund, Bucko.

I look like an iiiiiiiiiiiiiidiot

For the record, this ridiculous shade of red is nothing, I repeat NOTHING, like the color pictured on the box of L'OREAL hair color. And I have a party to go to on Sunday!

*looking at reflection in mirrored G4 front panel*

The first person to call me Strawberry Shortcake loses an eye.