Bad Day 150--No pictures, please!

 I have this theory that people who grew up after digital cameras were invented are much more comfortable with pictures of themselves than those of us who didn't. I base this theory on a long-term, exhaustive study of a large sample of children. OK, really just my children and really mostly Child 1 and Child 3. Child 1 posts a lot of pictures on facebook. And there are approximately 8 billion pictures of Child 3 on our computer, all of her making various faces, sometimes with props. My favorite is the one with the Groucho Marx glasses and a fake eyeball. Child 1 found it and sent it to me one bad day to cheer me up and it totally worked. I would post a picture of it but since I don't want to even reveal their names let alone their pictures, here is one of Groucho Marx instead.



When I was Child 3's age, I didn't own a camera. When I finally got one at age 12, I was so happy that I took an entire roll of film the first day which meant a whole 12 pictures and I got a lecture from my mother on wasting film on unimportant things. But back then, not only did you have to wait until the roll was finished before you could develop it, then you had to wait for the pictures to come back which took a few days, and when they did, they were always over exposed and grainy and most of them looked horrible, but you still had to pay for them anyway. I have thrown away a lot of bad photos of me so as a result, I think there are a total of 5 in existence and most of them are from before I was 2. OK, that's an exaggeration. I have a couple of my wedding, so maybe there are 7. Not anywhere close to the 8 billion of Child 3. Child 2, you need to take some more photos to catch up. Get snapping!

This grocery store worker in New Mexico is having a worse day than me. He found a loaded pistol in a box of ribs. Seriously. Here is a picture of the very scary gun.



What is a loaded pistol doing in a box of ribs, you may ask? I have no idea, and I hope I never have to find out. But not only was this guy probably given the fright of his life, now the police are mad at him because apparently he wiped down the gun before turning it in. To be fair, it probably had icky meat stuff all over it, but still, has this guy never seen an episode of CSI, or NCIS, or Law & Order, or The Closer or Hawaii 5-0? I think there may be a police procedural drama on every single minute and they all show how important fingerprints on the gun are, which unless you are living in a bubble and only watch nature-documentaries on PBS, you would know. So thank you, Mr. Shelf Stocker, for reminding me to be grateful that I have never bought meat that included a gun. Then again, I have never bought ribs, so maybe that has lessened my chances.

Btw, the tests went fine in that I don't have cancer, but still no answers. Extra props go to my friend "Stevie" for not only getting up to drive me at 5:45am, but also bringing me dinner even though I told her not to. She totally rocks, and so does her potato soup. 

Bad Day 149--Vikinger!

I'm apologizing now because this post isn't going to be very funny. I got a phone call from the hospital today and they have moved my test date closer! Yay! It's tomorrow. at 6am. So now I'm drinking the awful medicine they are making me take beforehand and I'm having a tough time getting it all down. It's quite nasty. Which means that I'm not feeling very funny tonight. I knew that this stuff would make me sick, but I didn't think I'd be this sick.

For those of you worrying that I have lost to much weight, you can stop worrying. I, um, have plenty of extra, so I can lose double what I've already lost and I'd still be OK. I have this theory that people whose ancestors lived in areas of the world where food was readily available are not genetically predisposed to store fat. My ancestors, on the other hand, lived in a world where it was literally feast or famine and they needed to store up fat during the summer, which lasted about 6 weeks if you could even call it summer, to make it through the long, cold, dark winters when there was no food. Unfortunately, my genes are still acting like its 800 AD and I need to survive a Danish winter, so I've been storing up for the famine for years. Now the famine has arrived, of sorts, so I can happily state that my body for once is doing what it should have been doing all along which is eating up my fat stores. Here is a picture of my ancestors on one of their family summer vacations.



Child 2's Christmas concert is tonight and I am missing it because I am too sick, so not many people are having a worse day than me. But this handyman might have. Some crazy people whose relative was in a dispute with him invited him over to do some work for them. Instead of paying him, they kidnapped him and forced him to make repairs around their house. I'm sure they thought it was a good idea at the time, but now they are in jail on felony charges. So thank you, clueless repair needers, for reminding me to always pay my handyman. But since it's usually Husband who makes all the repairs, all I usually need is a pan of lasagna.

Bad Day 148--Why is it so quiet?

The children are all out of the house at activities, so I have the whole place to myself, if I ignore The Dog, which is hard to do. I know that I should be doing something productive, like decorating the Christmas tree which was delivered and set up yesterday. We found a nursery in the southern part of our state that will deliver a fresh tree and set it up for less than I paid for one at Home Depot last year. It smells heavenly and it will be lovely once it's decorated, which it may never be because I am too short to reach the top and I can't put up the lights. Also, I don't feel well enough to do it.

If you know me, then you know that I must be really sick if I'm not able to put up the decorations because I love Christmas decorations. I have two trees. Yes, two. One for the kids to decorate, and one for me to make really pretty. One of my previous jobs was working in a craft store making Christmas wreaths and it just sort of spiraled from there and we have Christmas in every single room of the house. And it's lovely. One year, when we were first married, I actually put up the Christmas decorations on the day before Thanksgiving which is a big no no. But then, to be fair, I've never been the most patient person and when I lived in Norway I opened my Christmas presents on December 23rd. And I read the end of the book first, and no way could I wait to find out the gender of my children.

But Christmas will have to wait until Saturday morning this year because I'm just too darn tired. But on the bright side of things, I have discovered Arby's peppermint milkshakes do not make me nauseous and I don't feel guilty at all for having one (OK, a little guilty) because I'm still losing weight. This morning, my shoes didn't fit. What is up with that? How on earth did I lose weight in my feet?



The owner of this French chateau is having a worse day than me.



Or rather, the owner of this former French chateau because it isn't a chateau anymore--it is a pile of rubble. Because the owner hired the worst contractor ever and instead of razing the out-building and renovating the chateau, they razed the chateau. By accident. So thank you, Mr. Russian billionaire former-chateau owner, for making me grateful and I will never have to hire your contractor. As I sit in my cozy, undecorated house, I'm very happy no one is going to bull-doze it down.

Bad Day 147--Only one month of peace?

I have mentioned before that our phone rang constantly during the election season which lasted about 10 years, or so it felt like. I was home sick on election day and I got 9 calls, plus 3 people came to the doo--all reminding me to vote. It was a little much. When I checked my voicemail a couple of days later, I had 15 messages all from the Republican National Committee whom I will call out as the worst offender during the election. The Democrats rarely called and only came to the door twice when I was home. The Republicans, however, would never leave me alone, and having not learned from their failure to capture our state during the presidential election, they are now at it again. I'm not kidding. They called twice tonight about the gubernatorial race which is next year. November 2013! There aren't even any candidates yet! So, dear state Republicans, I will tell you whom I will vote for--it will be for someone who doesn't call me! Seriously, how on earth would I know which way I'm voting if I have no idea who is running? Smartly, I hung up on them once and then so did Child 2 because if we had given them information that I am currently undecided, they will never leave me alone ever and I really will have to move to Australia to get rid of them. Is there any other country on the planet where campaigning is this long and this annoying?

Which brings me to my next topic which is antelope. OK, that was a horrible segue, but today is World Wildlife Conservation Day, in case you didn't know. I didn't know until I saw posters of Jeff Corwin all over the Department advertising that he was coming to speak. This is Jeff Corwin, for those of you (Child 2) who don't know who he is.



He didn't bring the frog with him, but he did talk about how he became a naturalist and how important conserving wildlife is. I thought for sure Child 2 would know his name because she watched a lot of Animal Planet when she was little, but when I told her she said who is that? I, however, was as excited as I was when I got to see Steve Irwin at the Australia Zoo years ago, except that I was also extremely frustrated. We had driven up to Beerwah from our hotel on the Gold Coast near Brisbane to go to the zoo and the children were singing that they were going to meet the Crocodile Hunter. I carefully explained to them over and over that Steve Irwin didn't live at the zoo and that he wouldn't be there and they shouldn't get their hopes up. And of course when we arrived at the zoo, they said Steve Irwin is here today! It was Harriet the Tortoise's birthday and he was there to do the crocodile show and celebrate her birthday. She was pretty old having traveled to Australia with Charles Darwin. I'm not kidding. And it was great, except it meant that I was wrong and the children sang that Mommy was wrong all the way home. For an hour. Ugh.

But anyway, since it was Wildlife Conservation Day, in solidarity I wrote our cruise line about how they were violating international law by encouraging people to buy shahtoosh shawls, which they had and made me upset because I knew it was illegal, but I didn't say anything then and I felt guilty, so today I wrote them an e-mail and I hope they stop. See, shahtoosh is made from wild Tibetan antelope and to get the fur to make the shawl, you have to kill the antelope. They are now endangered and it illegal to take shahtoosh to most European countries and is punishable by fines and jail time if you bring it to the US. So when the cruise director told us to shop for shahtoosh in Turkey, I got rather mad and now I've done something about it. So happy World Wildlife Conservation Day! I can't help thinking that Steve Irwin would be pleased.

Someone on BuzzFeed completely stole my idea, but I don't mind so much since they did my work for me. These 19 people are all having a worse day than me.  I feel the worst for the the woman falling down the hole in the convenience store, but isn't standing near someone juggling fire just asking for trouble? And of course, Lindsay Lohan is always having a worse day than me, poor thing. So thank you, BuzzFeed, for setting me up today, but seriously stop stealing my ideas.

Bad Day 146--What is the point of this game again?

So this is how The Dog plays fetch: I pick up her toy, tease her with it, throw it, and then she runs away with it in the opposite direction. On the one hand, it means the game goes really quick and I don't have to throw the toy more than once. On the other hand, I might like her more if she was a little more fun. But really, she's a furry bump on a log and probably the laziest dog in America.

Tonight is Cake Boss night, so Child 2 and I are watching TV together. For those of you who are uninitiated, The Cake Boss is a TV program about a bakery in NJ where they make ridiculously complicated and amazing cakes. That is not a tower of ice cream. It is a cake.



I'm not sure exactly why we love this show so much when no one in our house can bake and only Child 1 has any cake decorating skills at all. For years I have been letting the children frost all the cakes because then I can tell people they did. I also told people they did way before they were old enough to hold a spatula, because hey, the cake looked like it was frosted by a child, so I just let people think it actually was. But anyway, we have always loved Buddy Valastro, who is the Cake Boss, but we really loved him after we met him in person in New York and he gave the girls cookies and he was as nice as can be. Also, he gave me a hug and took a picture with the girls. So now we are even more devoted fans (if that is possible) and Monday nights are spent watching people bake things that we will never be able to either afford or eat. But girls can dream, can't they? Someday, we will take a trip to the bakery in New Jersey and when we arrive we will all say, "Hoboken, baby!" (The Cake Boss says that all the time.)

This French journalist is having a worse day than me.



As you can see in this photo, he was riding a motorcycle along a dock and fell off both the bike and the dock. What you can't see is that he fell into a boat, which really had to hurt. And lucky for him, the whole thing was caught on video and has gone viral on the internet, so he will never, ever live it down. Oh, because also he is a motorcycle journalist which basically means he test drives for a living. Ouch. So thank you, Mr. Journaliste, for reminding me to be grateful that when I fell off my bike 20 years ago, no one saw and I did not land on a boat, only the sidewalk. And I didn't ride bikes for a living. And I didn't land in a boat. Apparently, I have a lot to be grateful for today.

Bad Day 145--Dogs can fly?

Child 2 has this stuffed animal which is huge and is a dog but she claims it's a panda. It is not a panda. First, it only has a black circle over one eye, and second, it's ears are not round. But that doesn't matter because for 8 years now she has been claiming it is a panda. It's a dog. The animal's name is George. Here is what George resembles.



See? Black around only one eye. This is not what George looks like.



Two black eyes and round ears. I know that it really doesn't matter what George is since he is a stuffed animal after all. But I do like baiting Child 2. Plus, today,I was almost scared to death because I came out of my bedroom to see George flying straight at me. I about had a heart attack until I realized someone had put him on a music stand and it only looked like he was suspended in mid air. No idea why, but Child 2 said maybe he was listening to music from Wicked and he was inspired to try defying gravity. Very funny, Child 2. Almost as funny as when I sent Child 3 to fetch Child 2 this morning and she came down with George instead and said "George will be playing the part of Child 2 today." I am apparently raising practical joking comedians. I'm so proud!

This little girl at Sea World is having a worse day than me.



What you can't see is that is her arm there in the dolphin's mouth. Apparently, she was feeding the dolphins and held the basket of food over the water and the dolphin grabbed for it and got her arm as well. I understand she is bruised but otherwise completely fine, if a little shaken.

Last year, for Thanksgiving, we went to Florida with Husband's parents and also went to Sea World which is a great place and we had a lot of fun. I took the kids to feed the dolphins and Husband took photos. Child 3 was petrified, especially when one of the dolphins jumped up to get her fish. The picture of her terrified face is one of my favorites because it is so cute. (I know, I'm a terrible mother.) But now I understand that she was completely justified in being scared. So Child 3, I apologize for making you feed the dolphins. However, since you want to be a marine biologist when you grow up, you might have to get used to it. And thank you, dolphin girl, for showing me that my child was right. (Child 3, this may be the only time I'm ever wrong, so don't get too excited.) And Child 2, George is a dog!

Bad Day 144--Abort, abort!

So I tried unsuccessfully to hang up the icicle lights on the front of the house. First, they were the wrong lights because we can't find where Husband put the box with the Christmas lights, or really, I'm just to sick and tire to look for them. And second they didn't match. Half were blue and white LED lights and the other half were regular yellowish lights. But at this point, I didn't care, I was putting them up anyway. So I got out the step stool and the sticky hooks I bought to hang them up. And not only was the step stool too short (OK, maybe I'm just too short,) but the sticky hooks didn't stick. Apparently, if your woodwork is at all dusty, the sticky part doesn't stick to anything but the dust and just falls right off. I thought there would be nails up there I could drape the lights over instead, but there weren't. So Husband, if you could let us know where the lights are and how to hang them up, the children will be really grateful. Otherwise, they'll have to wait until you come home, or the lights will all be along the bottom of the windows because I'm too tired to drag out the ladder. Or I might just throw them on the bush like this in one big ball.



I may have failed at hanging the lights, but I won at shopping. I went to the mall early again and managed to get a LOT of shopping done in only two hours before it got crowded, mostly because I didn't bring any of the children with me. Of course, since they were not with me, I was forced to choose what to buy them all on my own. I know two of the children will like what I bought them. However, one will return most of it because she is very, very picky but I kept the receipts for just that reason, and one will say, is that all there is? Why didn't you get me that thing that I didn't put on my list but told you once I wanted when we were in the car and you weren't paying attention? I'm now going to pout about it all day and make you miserable for not spoiling me even more than you already do. Yes, I know that math doesn't add up, but one of the children has mastered the art of loving the presents and being angry that she didn't get more. It's a delicate balance, but she's perfected it. This year, I will just tell her to be happy she got anything at all and at least she isn't a child in Afghanistan because they live in a war zone and go to school in a tent if they're lucky and also, they don't celebrate Christmas. It won't mollify her, but at least she'll be quiet for a while.

All the residents of Zarozje, Serbia are having a worse day than me. Their town council has warned them that there is a vampire on the loose and they should all carry garlic with them at all times. I know, you are thinking, why doesn't your town council warn you about vampires? But that is because you don't live in a village that looks like this.



Spooky, isn't it? But you can see why it would be popular with vampires, especially the kind that sparkle in the sun and are named Cullen. And are extremely good looking. I can see why Bella liked Edward because seriously, if he looked like Nosferatu, she wouldn't have been so keen on him. (Don't look children! He's very scary and I still have nightmares about the rats in that darn movie.)



But back to Serbia, it's awfully nice of the town council to warn the residents, but it is rather freaking them out. I personally think it's because everyone is walking around smelling like garlic, which is probably not helping the stress of the whole situation. So thank you, Zarozje residents, for reminding me to be grateful that there are no vampires in my town and nobody in the house smells like garlic. All I can smell at the moment is my patchouli hand lotion that reminds me of Sapa, Vietnam and not of dryer sheets at all. (Hmph, Child 1!)