Right on...

Your Career Personality: Independent, Insightful, and Ingenious

Your Ideal Careers: Architect Artist Business strategist College professor Computer programmer Mathematician Neurologist Philosopher Photographer Video game developer

The Quick and Dirty Career Test

Boobs

The other day, me and the chicks were taking a bubble-bath. Jenna looked at me, and asked, "Mom? Why are your boobs 'hangy'?" Now you see, she usually would say, "Mom? Those breasts of yours, those beautiful breasts that sustained me for the first year of my life..." and then lead up with a question, but alas, she must have been sleepy. So anyways, she asked why they were hangy. 'Hangy'. Now THAT'S an adjective that you want attached to your boobs. Jeesh. So, naturally, I ignored that she said they were hangy, and switched the adjective to 'bigger than mine' and answered THAT question.

Me: "My boobies are bigger than yours because I'm a grown-up."
J: "Oh. Will I get boobies when I'm a grown-up?"
Me: "Yes, yes you will."
C: "Will my get boobies?"
Me: "Since you're also from my loins, yes. Actually, you'll get boobies when you're a teenager."
C: (looking down at her 'baby-fat boobs') "MY a teenager!"

Nice how that logic works. hahahahaha.

Common sense

Claire: Knock, knock
Me: Who's there?
Claire: People knocking on the door.

Steph-throat

"Steph-throat": The title given to me by a co-worker who thought it was a funny play on words of "strep-throat." Which I have. Which my wee chick had last week. Which is not fun. Which hurts, even though I am of the tonsil-less variety. So for all of you that HAVE tonsils, and have strep throat, I'm sorry--I feel for you, I really do.

We (chicks and i) were supposed to go to DWJSD's house yesterday night, which we could not, because I could barely talk. And seriously, what's the point of going to your best friend's house if you can't even utter "More margarita's please"? I mean, what a waste of time THAT would be. Oh yea, and I didn't want to get her kids sick. So, instead of our lovely "Breakfast-for-Dinner" that we had planned, I stayed home and cooked a chicken. Yes, I felt like crap and still prepared dinner. Give me a frickin trophy or something. And it wasn't mac-and-cheese, it was a chicken! And rice! And a vegetable!! A well-rounded meal! I'm so self-sacrificing.

So, here I am, on Day 3 of "the sickness." I wish it would just go away.

"Annie" infatuation

My spawn have become infatuated with "Annie." Yes, the old movie with the uproarious orphans and the hijinks of one red-headed child. I shouldn't make fun of them--my Christmas list in 1982 was comprised of not 10, but 57 "Annie"-related pieces of merchandise, which I lovingly listed in your basic third-grade manuscript, complete with the Spiegel's item number and page where Santa could find it. I had everything listed from the "Annie Wig," to the "Annie-themed, day-of-the-week panties." Out of those 57 items, Santa chose to give me the Annie locket, which I still have to this very day, and wore in the 8th grade when I played the role of "Annie" in the school musical. Seriously, I thought that my life was complete at that moment. Anyways, now my chicks are LOVING "Annie." I burned them a CD with all the songs. Last night, while the chicken was in the oven, I sat on the couch and was entertained with the girls' rendition of "It's a Hard-Knock Life." It's great, and oh-so-entertaining. We're going over to my best friend's house on Friday, and I'm going to cajole them into performing it for her. Jenna knows most of the words, and sings at the top of her lungs, acting it out all the way. Claire knows about every 5th word, and those she knows, she yells out accordingly. So, with Clairey, we get, "It's a hard-knock life!! hmmmmm hmmmmm hmmm US!! hmmmm hmmmmm KISSES!! hmmmm hhmmmmm KICKED!!" But still, just as entertaining.

It's also becoming part of their daily reportoire. Yesterday, when Jenna asked if she could have yogurt and i replied, "No, i'm making dinner," she skulked away and began piteously warbling, "The sun will come out, tomorrow..." And when I asked them to pick up their playroom so the maid doesn't kill herself trying to get in there, they broke out with "It's a hard-knock life, for us!" Oh yes, SO hard knock.