Dear So and So...Stomach Bugs Can Kiss It

Dear Stomach Bug,

While I am glad that you are a relatively short lived bug, you caused mass puking at my house. LaLa must have brought you home from that germ swilling event (child's birthday party) on Saturday. On Tuesday you actually reared your ugly head when LaLa started puking. I thought we were in the clear the next day when she seemed fine and KiKi hadn't showed signs of being ill. On Thursday however you decided to return with a vengeance knocking out KiKi and myself with one fail swoop of puking and other end activity. Thursday night I spent in the bathroom sitting on the step next to the shower stall cursing your name and willing myself NOT to puke. You are a nasty little bug and if you could do me a favor, please skip The Man because man flu is even worse than a man cold.

Good riddance,

Kat

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Dear Readers,

Sorry I didn't have the Linky up earlier. See previous letter.

Love,

Kat

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No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problem

We had two days here in my little corner of England that have been absolutely scorchingly hot. Outside the house it is lovely, but once you walk inside, the air becomes thick and stagnant. Air conditioning isn't widely available in the UK and really it is only hot enough to actually turn on an A/C a couple of times a year; not like the part of the US that I am from where you would melt without A/C. My children have been escaping the heat by spending as much time in the garden as possible playing with the garden hose. While I have been trying to get things done inside the house and fretting about my upcoming water bill.

On Sunday afternoon the girls clad in their swimsuits, had been digging in the garden and soaking each other with the hose. They were positively filthy, but my philosophy is a little dirt never hurt anybody. About 15 minutes before dinner I went outside to call them in for dinner. They were stark naked; filthy and naked. Once I took stock of the lack of clothing (which really didn't bother me because we live in the middle of nowhere and have no neighbors) I noticed that they were also filling a plastic bin (one that we use for excess recycling trash if need be) with water.

"What are you doing?"

(in unison)

KiKi- "Nothing"

LaLa- "Making a bath"

They really need to work on getting their stories straight.

"Why are you naked?"

KiKi- "Because..."

LaLa- "So we can take a bath!"

"Why don't we come inside for a bath?"

The girls- "......" (it never occurred to them)

The Man from inside the house (peering out of the window) "What are they doing?"

If only I could get inside their heads for five minutes and see their thought process....

Don't Worry The Town Is Still Standing

On Saturday a group of American expat bloggers descended upon the quiet Essex town of Saffron Walden. Don't worry, nothing nefarious happened. The group was made up of Michelloui from Mid-Atlantic English, Mike from Postcards From Across the Pond and his lovely wife, NFAH, and the Nappy Valley Housewife, oh yeah, and me.

My day started by picking up my buddy NFAH on my way to Saffron Walden. Well, first I called to make sure she was awake. She doesn't keep normal hours so our 11:15 start time was quite early for her on a Saturday morning. She had also just arrived back from Switzerland the night beforehand and was most assuredly a little weary from the British Airline travel hoops she had to jump through. We then made our way to our destination relying on my SatNav to get us to our destination. Thank goodness, the bitch in the box* (SatNav), got us there without us even getting lost once; which I say is a victory in itself.

The real victory was meeting with people who I have only "met" via reading their blogs and emails. I had already met Michelloui and she was as lovely as ever. I have always found the Michelloui is just like her online persona; friendly, thoughtful, sweet, well spoken and independent. I secretly want to be just like her when I grow up. She spent a lot of time putting together this meet-up. She consulted us on what type of foods we would like and picked a fabulous Italian restaurant called Ask. Seriously, the rissoto was to DIE for.

Mike and I have exchanged emails over the last couple of years. When I first got here from America I would email him about little things that confused me or ask him about places that I should take visitors coming to the UK. He has always been a wealth of knowledge. In case you didn't know, Mike, wrote a book called Postcards From Across the Pond, which is wickedly hilarious. It was really nice to find that he is just as funny in person as he is in his writing. On Michelloui's blog she said that he looks like what an American writer should look like, and she is right. Mike is a class act.

Nappy Valley House wife was my question mark in the group. She is a new blogger and though I had heard her name here and there I had never engaged her in a conversation. My question now is, why did I not meet her sooner? She is brilliant. She is friendly, charming and down to earth. She also has a five year old who would definitely get along famously with my two heathens. Her search for Twizzlers will not be in vain. I might just bribe her with them to ensure that she comes to the next meet-up.

What else can I say about NFAH, she is my partner in crime. We are already plotting to meet up soon so that she can have some quality time with the girls. She loves them to death and they love her right back. Plus, she needs to prove to The Man that she is not my imaginary friend. I am sure that antics will occur, of course.

After a 4 hour "lunch" (I am sure the wait staff of Ask were ready to toss us out) (but they were really polite and let us have the entire back room of the restaurant to ourselves and didn't bother us too often)(not that they could have gotten a word in edgewise because we were a chatty bunch), we had to part ways back to our little corners of England. Saffron Walden lived to tell the tale of the American invasion.

*I have a love/hate relationship with my SatNav. Her name is Karen. Ya know, like Plankton's computer wife on Spongebob.

Dear So and So...Throw Me a Frickin' Bone Here

Dear Self,

Don't stay up til 1AM watching Austin Powers- The Spy Who Shagged Me. It isn't even as good as the original film. Heather Graham is no Liz Hurley. Fat Bastard, not that funny. Meh.

Just Go To Bed For Once,

Kat

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Dear LaLa,

When I tell you there are no waffles for breakfast, that means we REALLY don't have them. I can't make them appear out of thin air no matter how much you wallow on the ground and whine. It isn't happening.

Eat Your Pop-Tart and Hush, Mom

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Dear KiKi,

A fit about your shoes? I thought we had a few more years until this became a problem. Sorry I couldn't find your sandals and you had to wear trainers. My bad.

Alright Emelda, Put On Your Trainers and Hush, Mom

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Dear POW Sam Kitty,

Alright A-hole, this whole running out of the house thing, yeah it's getting old. I understand that your kitty ninja skills are being wasted inside the house, but unless you want to become a stain on that road out front of our house, you're just going to have to let your talents go to waste.

Tough Break Dude, The Warden

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Dear Readers,

If you have letters feel free to link up! You guys are awesome. Have a safe and happy weekend!

Love, Kat

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Fear- Fairy tale style

Some of you may have read my post "The Fear" way back when, I wrote that when my husband found out that he was going to be deployed. Right now, I would like to focus on a different fear of mine. I am going to tell you a story, a story about a girl who's prince did not save her.

Once upon a time, a lovely princess was taking a mid afternoon siesta. Ya know, getting some beauty sleep because she had just endured four months of her prince being out of the country getting shot at. So while the princess was sleeping she heard her two heathens errrmm I mean princesses squawking about an evil beast that was afoot. A large evil eight legged beast if you get my drift. The sleeping princess heard her prince respond to the younger princesses and blissfully drifted back to sleep thinking that the prince would of course bring down the wrath of the Almighty on said beast.

Later that afternoon the sleeping princess arose and commenced to her daily duties, cooking dinner, bathing the smaller princesses and cleaning the castle (hurm, maybe we should have called the princess a chamber maid..I kid. I kid. Sorta.) Upon her retirement to her bed chamber at a ridiculous hour of night, the Prince asked her "Did you see yonder beast above the bedchamber door? It's huge!" To which the princess replied "What the hell, you didn't kill that thing?" The prince looked at her sheepishly and then rolled over to go to sleep.

The princess of course could not endure an eight legged beast dwelling above her bedchamber door. So of course, the princess had to do what a freaking out princess has to do, confront the beast. The princess scurried out of the bedchamber with her hands covering her hair (in case of arial attack) and stood to face the beast. The beast was quite large, and also perched in a precarious position. The princesses took her magic lasso of doom (bath towel) and struck the beast. I didn't fall. A second attempt was made and the beast fell from it's perch. The princess searched the ground in order to deal the final death blow (stomping it's brains out) only to find that the beast had vanished into thin air. It was not attached to the lasso or on the ground. This of course annoyed the princess more than anything, because by this point, the prince was watching the battle and chimed in "Did ya get him?" To which the princess replied "No, he disappeared and will probably launch a counter attack in the middle of the night! Thanks for not taking care of this earlier hun." She then flounced off to bed fully aware that the beast could be anywhere, but hoped that it had only limped off to die.

This post was actually a meme passed onto me by the lovely Nickie, the topic being "FEAR". Go over and check out her blog, it is lovely. I have to pass this along so I will pass it to:

Urbanvox

Glowstars

and Jon

Tea Time

When you live abroad you can't help but notice the difference between your host culture and your home culture. The comparisons can be made everywhere, even when you are not trying. Granted, as far as expats go, I have adjusted to living abroad fairly well. I think because I made the decision that I was going to love living in England before I moved here, so I think it may have been a bit easier for me. That being said, there are things that make me still shake my head and say (usually in my head) "What the hell?"

Lately, the biggest difference I have noticed is that my English friends eat dinner a LOT later than I do. To me, dinner time is five o'clock pm, six a the latest. From twitter conversations, I have noticed that most of my friends on this side of the pond eat anywhere from seven to ten in the evening (of course feeding the children earlier and getting them off to bed)(of course there are always exceptions to the rule and a few who eat at "normal" times). I just don't know how they do it. At four I am generally hungry enough to start thinking about what is for dinner, or looking through cookbooks (yes, I will just randomly look through cookbooks), by four thirty I am usually cooking. Dinner is on the table by five.

Is it really a cultural difference though? Am I imagining this perceived difference? Is it really more of a circumstantial event? Well, last night I took an impromptu twitter poll, and the results were inconclusive. Best answers however were, "When the beer stops" and "Whenever my husband cooks it".

So I ask you this: What side of the Atlantic are you on and what time do you eat dinner/tea?

Bits, Bobs, and Build a Bear

So much has happened in the last week. The Man is home. You all know that. My parents came to visit. Did I mention that??

Most of the time they didn't stay with me and the family. They had made plans to stay in Ely and York. The last three days when they stayed with us went as follows:

Lavenham:

Cambridge Build-A-Bear Shop:

Barbeque:

Not bad for three days of visiting.

Dear So and So...Missy's Turn

Wheeeeeeee! Look at me doing the guest Dear So and So post today! I am thrilled and honored that the great Kat at 3 bedroom bungalow is allowing me to be the Wo-Man today!

My name is Missy and I live over at Loving My Children's Gifts. I have 2 daughters, 8 and 2, who are my little sunshines – most of the time. My Husband and I just celebrated out 12th anniversary and I love him like mad. But I barely talk about him - it's much more fun to talk about kids. I've loved Kat's wit for months now. I hope I can entertain you today 1/2 as much as Kat's been entertaining me.

So here goes:

Dear Kat's 1027 readers:

Let me woo you. Become a follower! I won't stalk you, but I will follow you back! Well, I might stalk you. I've been stalking Kat for a little while, right?

Signed,

Kisses, hugs and follows back to anyone who follows me. Plus undying gratitude and love, of course.

Dear “Friends” without Phone Etiquette:

One thing that the internet, email and blogging has brought me is peace and quiet. If your email comes in at a bad time, I can answer it at midnight with no bad manners. If I email you at a bad time, no matter, you just ignore that mo-fo until it's convenient for you to answer me. If I get loads of comments on a post, but am barely keeping my head above water, I don't have to reply to your comments right away. I can do it when I have more time. That's blissful. I'm also much more witty when I have time to think about it for a little while.

One thing having young children has taught me – if there’s an emergency to be had, you can bet it’s going to happen the moment I take a phone call. And I don't have hours to spend on the phone with people with no phone etiquette. So let's have a review:

1. When you call me, ask if it's a good time to talk. If a child is screaming in the background, it is not a good time to talk.

2. Launching into a serious 20+ minute phone call without preamble does not get me at my best. If a child is screaming in the background, magnify this by 1000.

3. If something requires thought, don't ask for an answer right that minute. Give me a day or so to ruminate.

4. If I tell you I need to get off in 15 minutes, then I tell you at the 15 minute mark I need to get off, please respect that. I'm not saying it because I'm a control freak (though I kind of am).

5. If I tell you Youngest has woken up from her nap and is crying to come out, that's a clear sign it's time to get off the phone.

6. If we're not finished, set up a time for another call. Or go start seeing a therapist. I hear they’re much better at sticking to those time boundaries.

7. Continuing to talk during these tips makes me not want to talk to you.

Signed,

Does anyone else feel like they need to use their mothering skills on adults?

Dear May:

It's pretty sad that having my kids at home for the entire simmer (in THREE WEEKS for the LOVE OF GOD) seems less hectic than this month.

Signed,

A brilliant friend of mine once said maybe all of the end of year celebrations could be spread over the winter. You know, when we NEED the diversion, not in May when we want to be outdoors enjoying life

Dear Children's Services:

Could you tell me at what point "summer chores" becomes "child labor?"

Signed,

Summer will be so much more fun if we all take responsibility round here

Dear Hips and Butt:

I don't understand why you keep getting bigger? When I take the children to the donut bakery, I only have one. When I take the children to McDonald's, I only get a hot fudge sundae to their McFlurry. Just because PF Chang's national website says their fried rice is 1200 calories doesn't mean the one I order has that much, right? I'm sure they reduce the calories for me. A whole bag of chips and guacamole from Chipotle can't be bad for me if I only have it twice a week. I just don't get it.

Signed,

Do these pants make my butt look big?

Dear Kat:

Thanks, sister! I hope you are having the best reunion ever with your wonderful husband. I am so happy for you.

Signed,

Your adoring fan, Missy

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Dear Readers,

Don't forget to link up! Love you all and hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Love from that Woman Who Blogs Here,

Kat

Can't Someone Else Decide?

This is Susie from New Day New Lesson. Like Kat I also have a husband who is gone a lot, but I am lucky that mine goes on shorter trips. For the most part he travels every other week but he is home for the weekend.

I'm originally from New York but now live in Israel. I am the mother of 5 kids ages almost 4 to almost 20. The oldest is in the army. We have mandatory draft here.

I started blogging about 3 months ago and I blog about a new lesson we learn from life every day. I also host the Kindness Club with a new kindness prompt every week. Would be so happy for you guys to take part.

Enjoy your break Kat. Hope your readers enjoy my musings.

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I have finally realized what it is that drives me the craziest about being a mother and a wife. (And don't get me wrong, I love both those jobs.)

What I have realized is that what I don't like are the constant decisions that I need to make. Any which way I turn there is a decision needing to be made. From my shopping list, to meal menus, to what needs cleaning, what needs washing and what needs doing first. And that's just a small part of the decisions.

My kids and husband are amazing and they help out a lot, and if not for them my house at this point would have been condemned. But for the most part I need to tell them what to do. I need to be the one to delegate.

I have decided that I do not like that part of the job description.

I have also noticed that the more resistance I have had to decision making the lower my house cleaning and organizational standards have slipped. My messy house and I are still gliding by on the once OCD reputation I built myself (years and years ago) for being a crazy neat freak.

Luckily for me, because I was once so OCD and nuts, no one believes that I am now a pig. My poor hubby keeps trying to tell everyone he is the neat one now but to no avail. No one believes him. (Probably because every once in a blue moon my OCD sneaks up and goes into a whirlwind, conveniently right before people visit.)

I keep thinking how nice it would be just to be given a list of chores and things that need doing and not to have to think and organize, just do.

Is it just me who has this issue or does anyone else want a wife too?

Image:

DECIDE

© Matt Wilson | Flickr Creative Commons

Reunions...I Generally Muck Them Up

Hey it is me, ya know, Kat, that lady who actually usually writes this blog. Yeah I am still going to have guest posters for the rest of the week, but I wanted to update things.

The Man arrived home on Thursday. You may have seen me talking in code on twitter about his impending arrival. I was legally not allowed to say when or where he was coming in. It is a security thing. Once he was on the ground though, I quick snapped a picture and twittered it round the world from my BlackBerry. I was just so happy he was home. Of course it didn't exactly go smoothly. You see I have a tendency to muck up his arrivals.

The last time he was deployed for months he went to Guam. Yeah, GUAM is a deployment in the Air Force. (Any Army guys reading this right now are thinking they really got screwed on the deal they made). Anyhow, The Man was supposed to be home on X day. Well that was delayed and he was supposed to be home on Y day. That was delayed and he was supposed to be home on Z day. Then the one of the aircraft that was deployed with him crashed. Yeah, sucks to be us, more delays.

So in this time of him being delayed all these days you would think that I would go over the top make big huge welcome home signs and decorate the house all patriotic like. You would be wrong. I was spent. I had a three year old and an eighteen month old at the house. My house generally looked as though a tornado hit it most days and I had at this point cleaned my house spotless three days in a row hoping he would miraculously show up. He didn't, for three more days.

By the time he did show up, my house was a disaster, no signs were made and I basically wanted to hand off the kids and sleep for three days. I also got the comment from The Man of "What? No sign?" So, this time when he was coming home from Afghanistan I wanted to make things right. I helped the girls make signs, my house was clean, I was set! He was due in at 2:15 pm on Thursday. It didn't look likely to change and I was stoked out of my mind because I was prepared this time.

At 1:45 I got a text from his mobile that they were on the ground and getting ready to deplane? What? WHAT??? I was still at my house a full twenty minutes away from base!! They weren't supposed to even land until 2:15! I threw shoes on the girls and hauled butt to the base.

When I arrived all the families were there to meet there service members and my husband was lost somewhere in the crowd. My daughters were running around with their lovingly made signs in search of their dad. We finally found him inside the hanger talking to some of his buddies. We were late*, but at least we made an impact. He couldn't have been more thrilled to see us and I couldn't have been more thrilled to see him.

* Plus I am not sure it actually counts as late when the Air Force gives you the wrong time.

A Sweet Deal

Jenni lives in the DC metro area and is a stay-at-home mom to two boys under three. When she's not complaining about her husband, she tries to maintain the chaos regularly at Oscarelli.

I'm very excited to stand in for Kat today while she enjoys her husband, who's finally home after many months in Afghanistan. I hope I do not disappoint.

I have lots of complaints about my husband. That he walks past giant baskets full of clean clothes five times, but never takes the initiative to bring them upstairs, where all of our dressers live. That I have to ask him a minimum of three times to do something if I expect said task to be completed. That every time he does a load of laundry something of mine gets ruined. That he borrows my keys and never puts them back on the key hooks by the door. That he never puts our dishes (or anything else) away in the same place twice. That he will listen to the kids whine for a decade before he decides to DO something about it. That it takes him three times as long as it takes me to pick up the living room. He dresses our children like hobos. That he will eat a container of leftovers five minutes before dinner and then be too full to eat what I've spent an hour preparing. That his temper is too short with the kids. That he expects me to read his mind.

Like I said, I have lots of complaints.

My husband works out of the home full time. He travels for work, maybe one week out of every five, sometimes more. He'll be gone Sunday afternoon until Friday evening. In March he traveled three out of four weeks. In April, two out of four.

Holy shit was that hard. Because even though he walks past the laundry five times, that sixth time? He brings it up the stairs. And even if I can't find the ice cream scooper, at least HE put it away (somewhere.) And the leftovers pile up; I have to clean the living room by myself every night; there's no one to ask (three times) for help; the only one to deal with whining kids is me; I have to dress both boys every day; I do every stitch of laundry; MY temper is too short with the kids; I have no one to talk to; and I STILL can't find my keys.

Here's the truth.

He works hard all day long and when he comes home, he continues working hard. He plays with our boys and helps feed them dinner and gives them baths and helps put them to bed and takes out the garbage and recycling and, sometimes, he hauls the laundry up from the basement even when I forget to ask. He throws in the occasional load of laundry and, when I ask, he'll even put away the dishes.

I miss him terribly when he's gone, but it always reminds me that what he does do around here far outweighs what he does not do, or what he does differently.

And, having him gone only ten weeks out of the year as opposed to several months at a time? Yeah, I have a pretty sweet deal.

Enjoy these two weeks with the Man, Kat. I know how much you've missed him and how deliriously happy you are to have him back home where he belongs.

Dear So and So...Anka Edition

I am 27 years old, living in Bucharest. I own and manage a coffee shop and a technical translations company and recently I have rediscovered the joy of doing things with my hands.

I enjoy photography, reading, I couldn't live without music, I am totally into my new bike, I collect owls, postcards and fridge magnets.

Anka blogs at Happy Hang Around

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Dearest self,

Remember last year's goal: a day without technology a week? Tough one, huh? At least one day a month, and you weren't able to pull it off. You should've try better, I tell you.

Read below to see why.

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Dear Japanese grammar,

There was a time when we knew each other quite well. I am sorry we lost touch. But now, since my laptop is out of the way, we can spend beautiful afternoons together. And we can bring some new friends, too. Like Spanish, German. Maybe Finnish?

どうですか。

===

Dear friends,

Do come by and visit. When I am not hiding behind a 10" computer screen, I am really a nice person. Witty and talkative. I can catch your jokes and even get involved in some kind of conversation.

Don't you just love the new me?

===

Full list of hobbies,

Be patient. Out of 7 afternoons a week, you'll all get your right turn. Dusting the old guitar and taking out all my cameras for the week. And always having the hook and yarn with me, as addictive as anything else...

Very anxious to make your acquaintance again.

===

Dearest laptop,

Isn't it odd to have me writing these lines just in front of you? Don't be mad... I am coming back every morning for a couple of hours. We do need to set our relationship straight, we should definitely see other people.

Take good care of you.

===

Dearest readers,

Please, don't go on laptop detox just today. Kat is having a short vacation and I am hosting Dear so and so for the week. I wouldn't want her to think I am spoiling her fun meme. Go ahead and join, by linking to your post in the linky gadget below.

Have a great weekend everybody. And do go for a walk, without the laptop...

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How to Win Four Weddings

So the show here in the UK called Four Weddings, I have talked about it before, ya know, when there was that naturist wedding on TV. You can read about that here. The premise of the show is that four brides attend each others weddings and then score each others weddings in secret, competing for a dream honeymoon. The scores are spread out like this the venue is scored out of ten, the food is scored out of ten, the dress is scored out of ten and the overall experience is scored out of twenty. Then the scores are added up. The bride with the highest score wins.

After watching this show a number of times I have come to a few conclusions and basically a sure fire system to win Four Weddings. If I wasn't already married I could totally pull this off!

1. Colored dresses never score high. Stick to a white or ivory dress. You might want to show your personality, but other brides will just think you are being cheeky or trying too hard.

2. Make sure your dress fits you well. Nobody likes wobbly boobs in the top of your corset.

3. The food is the most important part of the day. Make sure you have something substantial. Make sure there are vegetarian options. There always seems to be one vegetarian bride in each bunch. Actually taste the things that the catering company is going to serve for your wedding BEFORE the event.

4. Describing your wedding as "Princess" themed or using the word fairy tale isthe kiss of death. All anyone thinks about anymore when you say those things is Jordan. If you also wear a pink dress you may as well just give the other brides the tickets to Jamaica.

5. Serve cheesecake or tiramisu for pudding (dessert). Do not serve something really over the top that sounds good but turns out to be really not nice. Fresh fruit with whipped cream also seems to go over well.

6. Make sure there is an open bar. No cash bars!!!! Cash bars are tacky! When all else fails make sure the other brides get tipsy.

7. Hire a DJ. Make sure your DJ can pick nice fast paced songs, but enough slow songs that they older people can have a dance too. Don't have him play all trendy hip hop songs.

8. NO THEME WEDDINGS!!!! If you have to get your brides into costumes, it isn't going to go over well.

9. Do not have an outdoor wedding in the dead of winter. (Shouldn't this be common sense? You'd think right?)

10. Did I mention open bar?

So this is the formula for winning Four Weddings. Of course there is always the wild card of having a super bitchy bridezilla who is going to score everything low no matter what in order to make sure she wins. Make sure you get her especially sauced. At least then when she scores you low, she will also make an ass of herself on national television. I count that as a win too.

Fashion Faux Pas

Liz from over at Living With Kids has tagged me with her brand spankin' new meme. She asks, "What have been your fashion faux pas?" Let me just say, I was a kid in the 80's so I escaped having big hair. However I have been guilty of so so many other ones.

1. The Mom Uniform. Oh, don't pretend you don't know what I am talking about. Ill fitting shirt (usually a t-shirt or sweatshirt), jeans, and old trainers. Sometimes you did your hair that morning, meh, sometimes you didn't. Ring a bell?

2. Tight-rolled jeans. I may have been a kid in the 80s but you know all 8 year old little girls worshiped Debbie Gibson in the 80s and dammit if she tight-rolled her jeans, so was I! Never mind that it made the bottom of your jeans look ridiculous, but it was also ridiculously hard to get right the first time, especially for an 8 year old.

3. Mall Bangs (Fringe) (yes my British friends in the States we call your fringe your bangs) (feel free to snigger). This "look" if you want to call it that required massive amounts of hair spray (we did no favors for the environment back then) and a curling iron, a large barreled one worked the best to achieve the right amount of poof at the top. Then you had to curl some of the bangs down towards your forehead. Basically it looked like someone stuck a dinner roll on your forehead, and that is if you got it right! If you got it wrong, you walked around with a curling iron burn on your forehead. I am still afraid of curling irons.

4. Backwards clothes. I firmly blame the rap group Kris Kross. (the Mac Daddy, make ya jump jump, Daddy Mac, make ya jump jump!)

So, since this is a meme I need to pass this bad boy on. I am going to pass it to SueAnn, Vegemitevix, Jess, and since we all need to know about bad boy faux pas Captain Dumbass .

Since I Don't Do Things The Easy Way....

My friends who were stationed with us in Missouri just arrived yesterday. My husband is going to be here sometime this week. My parents will be here Friday. So between now and Friday I need to clean (like really clean) my house, help friends find a rent a car and get them started on a house search and show them where the elementary school is for their 3 girls, make sure my house is stocked with beer, and make sure my yard doesn't look like some hillbilly lives here. Simple right?