Multiple Fiber One bars and symphony rehearsals do not a good combination make. I'm not sure what fiber does to one's intestines, but I'm fairly confident it's not pretty. But, oh my goodness, Fiber One chocolate mocha bars are the closest I have come to food nirvana in such a long time.

I'm glad to be off of that stage.

Because nothing is worse than Shostakovich and a bloated stomach.

Except maybe excess wasabi peas and Shostakovich.

Hope you had a beautiful, fiber-ful Monday. Oh yeah, it's Tuesday.

Too much fiber.

Good night.

P.S. If you live in Tulsa and want to go to the Symphony Friday night, I have two comp tickets. Just let me know. Only Shostakovich and Beethoven. No fiber.

Ah, Sunday. I love you. And the empty house you have provided.

I have no idea what to do with myself.

Besides eat jelly beans and chocolate chips.

And clean every nook and cranny of this whole house.

At what point in my life did this become fun?

I don't know, but it is.

Just me, the dog, and a clean house.

Ahhhhh.........

Spring picture day - wearing coat, tights and layers.

Erick and Wayne. I think my husband's more proud of this picture than he is of his own children.

Counting money. Chores are paying off.

Nothing says impending snow storm like Stuart Little, musty blankets on the floor, and rice cakes. And dogs cleaning themselves in awkward positions.

Yep. It's Thursday.

Thanks to everybody accepting Random Thoughts Thursday as completely as you have. I'm worried that your random thoughts are becoming better than my random thoughts, and then I'll have to title my posts 'Not the most interesting thoughts out there Thursday.' This is a real fear, folks.

I think the only way to get the calves of my dreams is to take up Irish dancing or ice skating. I'm a little upset about this, as neither of these are going to happen in my lifetime. Maybe I should get some of those calf-building shoes that basketball players wear around all day. Don't they do that? Elizabeth?

I'm also a little upset that despite our attempts at professional weed control, they have not yet deemed our yard worthy of a sign advertising their business. The day they stake that baby into my yard will be the day I know I have been fully accepted into the folds of the weed-free family. And in the town we live, that's a big family....

There is a newscaster that drops his kid off at my daughter's school in the morning that is almost unrecognizable. I'm figuring he must work evenings, because there sure isn't anyone telling him what cumbersome sport jacket and slacks to wear at 8 in the morning. His unique combinations of early morning hair, sweat pants, and nonchalant attitude have made me very fond of the guy.

I ordered the swimsuit of my dreams off of the internet. The top half that has already made the cross country journey fits like a glove.

The bottom half is backordered.

I think that's a promising sign, because I'm imagining it's a popular model. This might be a bad thing at the aquatic center this summer, though. That and the fact that I ordered it from a website that's a high-schooler's online hang out, and they asked me my GPA and date of graduation at checkout. I'm just crossing my fingers that the bottom half is indeed the 'skirtini' promised, and not some g-string nightmare. Now that I look at it, it does sort of seem like it's missing the backside part of the swimsuit......

I guess it's off to France I go.

Erick is meeting and recording Wayne Coyne today. This might top meeting Mickey last week. Although Wayne Coyne never put the city on a diet.

Dog gone it, I forgot my camera at the Asian market on Monday. I made several mental notes, and will be sure to photograph some exotic foods next week. I did find this one in my pantry, though.


It's been in there a month because I'm scared of it. Anyone know how to cook it, is the question..........

Love you all.

Recipe for a successful practice session with a four year old.

Plan on practicing for no more than 4 minutes at a time. I guess that's like a minute per year.
Throw a diet soda into the equation and you're looking at 6 to 7 minutes. Lots of soda breaks.
Don't warn child that practicing is about to commence. Have your strategy in place, grab instrument from case, and GO GO GO! Think Navy Seal kind of operation.
(The shoving of the instrument under child's arm is not always appreciated).
Lock the 2 year old brother in opposite part of house. Never a positive addition to a practice session.
Mother should bite tongue, sit on hands, and refrain from screaming at child's many diversion tactics.
Mother should also fight urge to hop in car and head to the nearest coffee shop. Focus.
Once practicing has begun, remember to hold breath and pray that the sounds emitted from instrument are good ones.
For yourself and for child.
Help child pick herself off of floor in crumpled heap when the sounds produced are less than desirable.
Just another diversion tactic.
Try again.
Beam with inner joy when the following tries are good sounds.
And child smiles.
And Mother JUMPS UP AND DOWN with excitement.
If all else fails, have Dad take instrument from child and pretend to play the wrong way.
Child can fix everything Dad is doing wrong.
She doesn't know this is a diversion to keep the practice going. Dare I say we're having fun now...
Try to end practice on a good note.
Literally.
Wipe rosin and tears off of instrument.
Loosen bow.
Put instrument away.

And repeat every day for 14 years.

Random Thoughts Thursday

I don't want to break the streak here, so I'm going to post Random Thoughts Thursday today. Although all my posts this week have been very random and medication inFLUenced. Pun intended.

Raegan has never seen a Hannah Montana episode, and couldn't pick her out of a line up, but insisted on looking like her today. Which entailed a LOT of chalky pink lipstick that clung to all the dead skin cells on her lips, a flower dress over flare leg jeans, and flip flops. Oh yeah, and an attempt to duplicate Crystal Gayle's hair that she spent 10 minutes brushing into a shimmering, shiny gloss. (Or I should say, an attempt to duplicate Summer's former hair).

I would take a picture of her ensemble, but the hubbie took my camera to work to get some pictures recording Mick Cornett. I told him to say, "Thanks, Mickey, for putting the city on a diet. Our arteries thank you." I hope he doesn't take my advice.

I have only been craving really bad food this week. My arteries have not been thanking me.

Erick forgot to lock his car the night before last, and someone 'tossed his car' (according to Erick). Which means they threw trash and CDs around in an attempt to find cash. Erick's assured himself that they stopped when they came to his glove compartment box and found a folded up shooting target from the gun range as well as some shooting headphones. I'm sure that was it, honey. Not the fact that they were only finding empty Starbucks cups and fast food wrappers, and just decided to head to the next house.

Why do teenage kids always pick Spring Break to start breaking into unlocked cars? Are the rest of the nights of the year just not as convenient? Do they think the cops are taking Spring Break off, too? I'll never understand the rationale.

I may start a 'Random Foods Friday' of random food items I find at the Asian supermarket soon. I LOVE entering the foreign land of Asian food stores. It's the weekly way I escape to another country. For today, I will put my newest favorite food item on this post:

Baby bananas (on left)
Greyson loves them - perfectly toddler sized
Raegan hates them.
She hates lots of foods.
At least I got her to like wasabi peas.