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It's amazing how kids pick things up without us realizing it.

For example, when a light turns green, my son yells, "Come ON! It's GREEN!!!!" I have NOOOO idea where he learned that.

Well, last night Evan's school pictures came in. The package included a class picture. As we were stopped in traffic, I handed it to him, and asked who all the kids were.

He started running through the names.

"This is Anna, Anna is my friend. "

"This is Preston. Preston is a HITTER. No one plays with Preston 'cause he's a hitter."

"This is Tyler F, he's the "nice" Tyler. He likes Nascar."

"This is Tyler C, he's not the nice Tyler, he's a Hitter, he's not my friend. But Preston is the BIGGEST hitter."

"This is Edmond. Edmond's Mommy isn't his real Mommy."

"This is Jackson. Jackson is my friend."

This went through 20 kids. Some were hitters, some were biters, some friends, some weren't.

It made me a little sad. Who told my son that someone was a "Hitter"? I don't think he could have made that term up.

And who labeled Tyler C as not nice?

And poor Edmond, my son said it like it was dirty, not his REAL Mommy.

How can a Pre-K class already have cliques???

GOOD LUCK PEAS!!!

My beautiful friend Peasy (Jennifer) is running in the Nike Women's marathon in San Francisco today in honor of her mother. I obviously can't be in Cali to cheer her on, so I'm doing it "cyber-style".

Sending all my energy to you, Peas!

**hugs**

Weekends.

My husband can't sit still. I can't either.

I can entertain myself. My husband can't.

This is why I love crafts. I can sit on the couch and watch a movie, while working on a quilt, or crocheting, or knitting, or cutting out random things for a scrapbook page, or, well, you get the point. My husband chews his fingernails and channel surfs out of boredom.

I sit in my living room and I **see** things that need to be done... like sweeping or vacuuming, or what not, and if I don't feel like sitting on the couch anymore, I get up and do them. My husband, who likes a clean house just as much as I do, doesn't seem to see those things as things that can be accomplished, but just as things that make the house dirty... The dots don't connect.

So, weekends that are too cold to play outside go like this:
Saturday, Mark gets up at the crack of dawn and does something productive like balance the check book.

I try to ignore the small four year old that is pulling on the blankets. and I finally get up and start cleaning.

Mark surfs the web until he's bored.

I do laundry.

Mark's still surfing, even though he's bored.

I start a craft project.

Mark is surfing the web and the channels now at the same time.

Dinner comes around, and I'm ready to relax and sit and watch a movie.

Mark feels as if the whole day has been a waste, and is bored out of his mind. And we still have Sunday to go.

Appetite

I seem to have misplaced mine.


It's really strange.


I am an emotional eater. Happy, sad, depressed, angry, you name it, food is the answer (soooo very healthy, eh?), and obviously, considering that I'm not a small girl, I normally have a healthy desire for food.


I realized today... I have eaten cantaloupe. Like maybe two wedges worth. And had coffee. It's almost two in the afternoon, I should be starving!!


I'm not complaining, I'm just confused.


Yesterday, I had some oatmeal for breakfast, 1/2 a turkey sandwich for lunch, and an English muffin with laughing cow cheese on it for dinner. What is that, like 600 calories??


As much as I like the thought of a huge calorie deficit translating into a smaller waist, I'm pretty sure this is not healthy. But I just don't WANT anything to eat. I look in the fridge, and nothing says "Eat me!"


hmph.

Cozy.

That's how I feel today.

It's snowing. The house is warm, the light is soft, and the smell of chili is filling the house thanks to the crock pot. I wish you could bottle this feeling.

Seriously...

who has been teaching my son this stuff???

Yesterday, as we were once again driving home (it's close to an hour commute, so we have a lot of time to chat). I reached into my purse and pulled out some chap stick.

Evan: MOM! That's not lipstick.

Me: I know.

E: BUT MOM, you have to wear lipstick.

M: Why?

E: Cause moms have to wear lipstick to kiss daddies so they're pretty. AND they have to wear those ear things. Mama, where are your ear things? (He actually can't say "th" sounds, and says "fings" instead of "things" just so you know.)

M: I don't have any today.

E: MAMA! HOW are you gonna look pretty for DADDY???

This morning, he picked out my earrings for me, and watched while I put on my lipstick (which made my chapped lips look even MORE painful.)