The Voice

This morning I drove Doug's car to work (because my car was on empty and he was going to fill it up--isn't he sweet?).

I leave the house pretty early, so it is dark outside. I am a weenie, we all know that. I always have this fear that some creature is going to jump out of the darkness and grab me. I tend to move with the quickness getting into the car. This morning as I approached the garage, I heard a man talking. What? Is? That? I looked around to see if I could spot any dudes lurking around...nothing. As I got closer to the garage, the voice grew louder.

"Bruce Pearl should sue! I like Bruce Pearl, but even if I didn't, I'd still say he should sue the NCAA. They're liars. They've lied so much that their rules are obsolete!"

The voice belonged to Mike Greenberg. Stepping into the empty garage filled with Greeny's voice, the atmosphere was totally creepy. It was like a scene from a scary movie. You know the types...the zombie apocalypse has come, and a group of dudes go into an abandoned home to see if there are any signs of life. Everything is desolate. All you hear is some creepy old record playing on repeat.

There I was. Alone. In the dark. Listening to Greeny repeatedly scream about Bruce Pearl. Frightening.

To make matters worse, it was raining outside. You know what I think of when it is dark, rainy, and I am scared? Dadblamed Unsolved Mysteries. I tell you, I can vividly see that episode now, with that creeper who looked like the Undertaker, standing in the rain, just waiting for that perfect moment to bust into some innocent broad's house to slit her throat. I can hear Robert Stack clear as a bell, "Join me. Perhaps you will be able to help solve a mystery." Uh, no thanks, Mr. Stack. I'm cool. I ain't about to go looking for the Undertaker.

Ugh. Doug needs to put up some flood lights or something. Maybe someday I'll be brave.

Best Friends

As you know, every time a social event is to be held at my house, I decide that the week before said event is an excellent time to undergo a new project around the house. This week I have been purging (again...how do I acquire so much junk) and organizing (dumping different things into different totes). During this process, I happened upon two very sweet pieces of paper. Mine and Doogie's wedding vows! We chose to write our own. I think it is fitting that we both (although one of us got a little help from Freddie Mercury) wrote about being each other's best friend. I love that dude. And Queen.

I kinda sound like Elmyra Duff. "I'm gonna hug you and kiss you and love you for ever!"

I love the title of his vows: New Text Document (4).

Reality TV

Maridith and Jonas at last year's Halloween party.

Every Tuesday night, my friend Maridith comes over for supper. She's been coming over on Tuesdays ever since I was pregnant with the boys. It started as a favor for me: she'd come over and cook me dinner, as I laid lifeless on the couch like the beached whale that I was. I'm so happy that we've kept our Tuesday nights going strong for over a year. I look forward to them every week!

Usually, Maridith arrives at the house right around the time Word Girl comes on, which is also right around the time Dacian gets home. They entertain the boys while I cook. Additionally, they use this time to catch up with each other regarding the television shows they both watch. "What did you think of this week's Person of Interest? When does season 3 of Sherlock come on?" Etc. Etc.

Last Tuesday, I was eavesdropping on their conversation and her Dacian giving Maridith a hard time about watching reality shows. "At least I watch quality reality shows!" Maridith exclaimed. "I watch Genealogy Roadshow not the Jersey Shore!" To which Dacian replied, "What? The Jersey Shore isn't a reality show." "Yes, it is, Dacian." "You mean to tell me Snookie is a real person? No way!"

Down in My Back

Being a Mother is such a beautiful thing, but, man does it exhaust a woman. Those little firecrackers of mine wear me out--physically and mentally. I am currently laying in bed with a heating pad. My poor ole back hasn't been the same since I had to haul those two around for nine months. (When they are older, this will be great material for a nice guilt trip.) Of course, running around on all fours, chasing after them and roaring doesn't help my back either. Oh well, we have fun, even if I do pay for it later.

Here is a question for all of you parents out there (or non-parents for that matter): Am I the only one who plays out horrific scenarios in my mind when I hear or do not hear a noise from another room when I am the only person (adult) in the house?

Examples: When I am home with my boys and they begin to play cars or read books or watch Daniel Tiger or otherwise amuse themselves, I sneak off to the kitchen to clean. I will be in there loading the dishwasher when all of a sudden...

I hear a shriek. Now, in the 5 seconds it takes me to open the baby gate and get to the living room to the children, in my mind, Julian/Jonas are screaming in pain, lying on the floor with a broken arm, and I am going to have to somehow pull myself together to take the injured to the hospital. "What will I do if there's blood? What if I pass out and they are hurt and all alone? I'm going to throw up!!!!!!!!"

Finally, I reach the living room. Julian was the shrieker.  The issue: His brother had a big plastic spoon and he didn't. The horror! The horror!

OR

I hear nothing. "It is awfully quiet in there. I better go check on them!" And in the 5 seconds it takes me to get to them, I've already envisioned some bastard breaking into my home and trying to steal my babies. Whereupon, I reach for the closest weapon available, which just so happens to be one of Doug's enormous flashlights. And then I beat the tar out of that dude and rescue my children. Mama Bear will destroy you, punk!

Finally, I reach the living room. Julian is laying on the couch watching Curious George, and The Bear is reading.

It's Finally Halloween

It's finally beginning to look Halloweeny at the Gastright home. Today at half-time (it is Sunday afterall), Douglas busted out the ole black cat from storage. Black cat has a patch on his forehead, but is otherwise in good condition. Why, I remember the day we brought him home like it was just yesterday. Doogie and I  carpooled to work that crisp autumn morning. I was hungry (as usual) and demanded (as usual) a bagel. We stopped at Kroger (instead of a bakery like a normal couple would do) and picked up a nice selection.

As we were walking out of the bakery section, we decided to peruse the Halloween aisle. Naturally, I needed some candy for my desk at work. What would it be? Reese's pumpkins? Almond Joys? Kit Kat? Or my favorite, Baby Ruth? (Such self-torture to list off all of these candy bars knowing full well that I am in no position to eat any of them at the moment.) Looking at the huge variety sitting happily on the shelves, I began to feel the pressure of what to choose (it was as though I was on an episode of Supermarket Sweep, searching desperately for that one item that solved the last puzzle).

Finally, I settled on a bag of Baby Ruth (actually, I have no idea what I settled on, but chances are, I went for the Baby Ruth) and headed for the checkout lane. Then I saw it. A Big Black Cat. We needed it. I called Douglas over to see this beast. He agreed. A must have. A bare necessity.

 We left Kroger with bagels, cream cheese, Baby Ruth, and an inflatable yard decoration in the form of a giant black cat. And it wasn't even 8:00 am. Success!

Pumpkin Patch

I know you must be wondering what my problem is lately. I mean, it's October 12th and I haven't even mentioned Halloween or Christmas. I blame it on the twins and Doug. Somehow, they are to blame. At any rate, we got into the spirit today with a visit to the pumpkin patch and a haunted hayride (sans twins)! Tomorrow, the black cat inflatables ARE going in the yard. You read that right, Douglas. Get ready.

You've heard of leatherface, but do you know gatorface?

Julian trying to give the sheep his car. Jonas has him trained to hand over his toys.

Heading out to pick our pumpkins.

The Bear checking out the haunted house with Kelli and Tyler.

Can I eat this?

Can you find Julian?

The most sincere pumpkin patch.

Great. He found a weapon.

Can I eat this?

Cookies and Pancakes and Pizza and Pretzels and Caramel Apples and...

Julian's cookies.

Do you know what it means to be "down in the back?" Neither did Doug. Sometimes I wonder how there are still phrases I say that he does not understand. We've been together for a million years, I would reckon that I've said every Dwarf saying there is to say. Evidently not. Just remember, if a hillbilly ever says to you, "I'm down in my back." That means he/she has a backache. Doug's aunt is currently down in her back.

I love coming home from work. Not only do I get to flip the bird to the ole workplace for the evening, but I am always greeted by 2 very happy little dudes. Sometimes they even greet me with some sugar! Now, sugar in this sense means love and affection. Oh, it is the sweetest! Little baby hugs and kisses are the best. Today, however, I was literally greeted with sugar. I hadn't no more walked through the door when ole Jules came running in my direction...carrying a package of cookies! I had to (temporarily) break his heart and deny him his chocolate brownie cookie. He settled for a graham cracker bunny. You have to eat supper before you get the good stuff, man!

Mmm chocolate brownie cookie. I would give my left arm for one of those babies. (I'm keeping my

It will be mine. Oh yes, it will be mine.

right. I'd be utterly useless without it.) But alas! I am on a diet. Aren't I always? Anywho, I am 1 pound away from pancakes, people! That's right. Get excited! One more pound will bring my total weight loss to 10 lbs, and I shall celebrate with a gloriously gluttonous day. Frisch's pancakes, Mellow Mushroom pretzels and pizza, and a nice big caramel apple from Sweet Tooth Chocolates. Most girls dream about squeezing into that little black dress. The eternal fat kid, I dream about food.

How a Bear Eats a Raspberry

Cool Dad

As you know (or don't know), Doogie got a new job. With this new job, he has to wear fancy duds, like suits and ties and belts and uncomfortable shoes. He also has to carry a briefcase. Naturally, he did not own any of this (maybe one ill-fitting suit) prior to landing the new gig, so he had to go out (the day before he started the job, of course) and buy everything.

He was at a suit store when he asked the sales associate, "Do you sell bags?" To which the lady replied, "No, but I recommend looking at TJ Maxx." So, after he left the suit store, the maxxinista headed to find a bag. Except, he didn't find one.

When I got home, Doug said, "There's a TJ Maxx bag on the table for the boys. They didn't have bags, but they had wheelies."

Cruisin' and Snoozin: A Walk through the Woods

The boys recently got a new ride. A killer blue wagon. They absolutely love it. Prime time for walks is 2:45; that's when the school buses run. You should see their heads whip around in amazement following each and every one that passes. They even get waves from the bus drivers!

Being escorted around the neighborhood by lovely Aunt Jovita.

Wow! This tree must've been here since Robert Wallace first settled.

This stump makes a perfect chair for The Bear.

Pour out a little liq..juice for my homie Lester, yall.

On my porch. On my swing. On my porch swing.

It ain't easy being me.

I love Tuesdays and Thursdays!