Quote(s) of the Day

"No."
"Nope."
"I said no."
"Please don't ask me again."
"No."
"NO."
"NO."
"The answer is still no."

And They Ate Wheat Thins & Pink Bubble Gum for Breakfast

There are those rare mornings that I just need to sleep in past 6:13 am for mental stability and rejuvination. So, I will choose to lay in bed for an extra hour. The purpose of "rejuvination" and mental rest are quickly overcome when, at 7:13 am, I am finally ripped out of my slumber with an earpiercing shriek and a dramatic cry of "Brrryyyyyyyynnnnnnnnnnn!!!!!!" Alarm clocks are just not really needed in our house. Unless you are attempting to wake up before the children, of course.

Here are just a few of the things my children can accomplish during my hour of sleeping in:

1. Scatter a herd of My Little Ponies from one end of the house to the other (I guess we practice pastural grazing in our house).
2. Make a sweet blanket fort between the two living room chairs, complete with a Disney Princess roof and an every-pillow-in-the-house-except-the-two-that-I-am-sleeping-on protective wall.
3. Place small stacks of books in random locations throughout the house. Why? Mail deliveries, of course!
4. Unroll half the roll of toilet paper. And then try to roll it back up so that Mama won't notice.
5. Post an entire stack of Post-It Notes on the bedroom doors and living room coffee table.
6. Review our collection of DVD's (for the 456th time) and leave the movies precariously stacked 23-inches-high in front of the TV.
7. Leave scribblings and love notes on the the stack of bills Mama left by the computer at 11:45 pm last night.
8. Break out the box of Wheat Thins and eat twice their weight in crackers.
9. Follow the breakfast of champions up with a shot of pink Bubble Gum.

All before 7:13 am. Amazing. Truly. Sleeping in for an hour may not be the wisest parenting decision I made this week. It seemed like a fantastic idea at the time. Now, in light of the aftermath, not so much.

Places I Would Rather NOT Be

Death Valley, California - average high temperature of 134 degrees Farenheit
Kebili, Tunisia: 131 degrees
Tombouctou, Mali: 130.1 degrees (that .10 is a killer and definitely the tipping point)
Tirat Tavi, Israel: 129 degrees
Ahwaz, Iran: 128.3 degrees

All I can say is that I am infinitely grateful not to be in any of those crazy-hot places!

Note: Today's high in Tucson: 110 degrees, highest record temp: 117 degrees in 1990...still way to flippin' HOT for me to function at a normal level. 74 degrees is more my speed.

It Keeps Me In a Continual State of Inelegance...

The trouble with the heat is that it's hot. 108+ degrees hot. And it's only mid-June.

Which means that over the next 60 days, my intolerance to heat will continue to build to an astronomical level until one day my husband will come home to find me sitting in a bathtub full of ice cubes. And frozen vegetables. And those little ice packs shaped like smiley faces that are supposed to help make scraped knees and boo-boos feel better.

The thing about Southern Arizona summers is not necessarily the fact that walking barefoot on the sidewalk at night is out of the question. Or needing to slather 6 layers of SPF50 sunscreen all over yourself and your translucent children before stepping outside. Or being required to complete all outdoor activities before 7:03 am. It's the overall feeling of irritation. And a constant disagreeable disposition. And every so often, a little bit of heat-induced rage. But that's just me.

In my book, summer is highly over-rated. Probably because, as a Tucson native, scorching heat is all I have ever known. Next summer, I'm going to Idaho. Or Montana. Or Greenland.

We've Got a Great One at Our House...

Marketing Geniuses

I don't know if any of you are aware, but two great marketing geniuses have formed an alliance that is making mom's around the world jump and shout with joy. The kind of joy that inside is really a mixture of dismay and a handful of repulsion, and just a little bit of awe and admiration.

That's right, Campbell's SpaghettiO's meets Disney Princessess. Really, who are the ad wizard's who come up with this stuff? Little, slimy, gooey noodle-heads in the shape of Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, and Belle - swimming in an red-orange sea of high-sodium synthetic tomato sauce. Yum.

I don't know which is the bigger marvel - that SpaghettiO's can actually be made into the shape of a Princess head and/or crown, or that the Disney empire has actually aspired to infiltrate the canned goods market.

All I know, is that every few weeks, I now receive special requests for "Princess Pssketio's, please..."