Rich and Famous

I was curious to know how many people read my blog. You see, my dream is that somehow, somewhere, an editor or publisher will read my blog and think that I am awesome and super talented and want to publish some of my writing. (So everybody pass my link along to your friends, will ya? I promise if I become rich and famous I'll use your name as a character in a book or maybe buy you ice cream.)

Anyway, I put a counter on my blog. I was surprised at how many people have viewed my blog. Right now the count is at 67 and I've only had the counter for about a week and a half. I was surprised because I rarely get any comments on my blog and so I thought that not many people were reading it. Yay me! I'm almost famous.

Unless you count all the times that I view my blog to see where the counter stands. That might bring the actual count down to 9 or 10. Shoot. I may not be a famous as I originally thought.

Love and Marriage - Bennett Style

The following is an actual conversation held between Morgan and me yesterday.

Morgan: Are you glad that you married me?

Julie: Umm....

Morgan: I mean, even though I'm a jerk.

Julie: Well... most days.

Morgan: That's good.

Julie: Other days, not so much.

Morgan: I don't blame you.

Julie: I mean, if I took all of you, the good, the bad, everything, and put it all in a blender, it -

Morgan: -would be gross.

Julie: Yeah. It would be really gross.

Morgan: But does the good outweigh the bad?

Julie: Yes. Definitely.

Morgan: How much? Is there lots more good than bad?

Julie: I would say that it's about 49% bad, 51% good.

Morgan: (pumping his fist) Yes! So I have room for error!


And then we both laughed like ninnies.


Morgan: I so totally love you, dude.

Julie: I so totally love you, too. .... What about me? How much room for error do I have?

Morgan: None. You are 50% - 50%.


And again the ninny laughter.


I love my husband. He makes me laugh and every once in a while I'm able to repay the favor.


(Disclaimer: It has been brought to my attention that some of my readers do not understand sarcasm. For those readers, let me explain: My husband and I are madly in love, which allows us to joke about our relationship in the above manner. If you still don't get it, then maybe you shouldn't be reading my blog.)

The Worst Three Words

Three words by which no parent wants to be awakened:

"Mommy? I puked."

Especially when the answer to "did you make it in the toilet?" is

"....no."

Chills the blood.

And curdles the stomach.

Hey, Em? I'm probably not coming over today. It seems I'm on vomit patrol

Mother Hen, Belly Fatness and Barnyard Diseases

This video is funny and/or interesting for a number of reasons.




First, observe Spanky as a mother hen. I don't think he can decide whether he wants to love the babies or eat them.

Then, Noel comes from jumping on the trampoline with the announcement that she is doing exercises to "lose her belly fatness." Why does my daughter think she is fat? Society, that's why. She is a beautiful, healthy, normal little girl but she thinks that she is fat. Hrumph.

Finally, she asks to get a drink. My first instinct is no, the ducks have been playing right on top of the hose. Then I think that since the water is running that all germs have probably been washed away. So I say go ahead. Then as she takes a drink I think that maybe it isn't such a good idea after all.

It might turn out that belly fatness isn't all she has to worry about. Can diseases be transmitted from cute little fluffy ducks to cute little fluffy girls via water hose?

Lame and Lamer

I am an idiot. At 6:30 this evening, I was sleepy. So I took a nap.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Morgan woke me up with a phone call at 10:00, telling me that he and my babies had reached Boise safely.

I've been wide awake ever since. I have tried to be productive. After playing about 17 rounds of Jewel Quest II on my phone, I decided to get some sewing done. I have embroidered Emily's name on her purse (come and get it!) and sewed two receiving blankets, four burp cloths, and 32 Pee Pee Tee Pees. I have also blogged twice, with this being the second blog. The first one was sorta lame. What am I saying? This one is sorta lame.

It's very quiet in my house. I'm the only one here (besides the dog, the chickens, the ducks, the stray cats, and the several hundred cattle). So maybe it's just sorta quiet. It has led me to have several random thoughts.

I'd like to ask the Bare Naked Ladies if they have a million dollars yet.

Chickens do not make good house pets.

Neither do ducks. Joey and Chandler were crazy.

What does "I'll stop the world and melt with you" even mean?

If your entire intake for the day is 2 1/2 glazed doughnuts, chocolate milk, a BBQ beef sandwich, a small Hershey's chocolate bunny, one Coke, half a box of Better Cheddars and a bunch of Costco Cheese Curls, you will have a belly ache at 1:30 am.

Taking a nap at 6:30 is lame and will mess up your plans to get up early the next day.

Things You Should Never Ever say to a Stay-At-Home-Mom

• Do you work?

(Nope. Never.)

• What exactly do you do all day?

(Mostly watch TV and eat chocolate because, you know, the house cleans itself, the laundry washes itself, the dishes wash themselves, etc., etc...)

• I thought that you could take care of this because you don't have a job.

(Oh, you bet. I have a buttload of spare time because I never ever do anything.)

• I wish that I didn't have a job and could stay home all day.

(That's right. Having no job and staying home all day is a frickin' picnic.

• I'm really looking forward to my paid vacation.

(Vacation? Paid!?! I will cut your femoral artery and watch you bleed to death.)


I've had it several ways. I've been a full time SAHM, a part time employee/full time mom and a full time employee/full time mom. I definitely prefer full time SAHM to the other options.

Mothering and wifing is hard work. It is also the most fulfilling work that I have ever done. I respect mothers who can keep a job and still run their house, because I CAN'T. I have tried. My husband tried to pitch in and take on more of the housework, but I just don't see how all those working moms do it. Of course, I have a lot of flexibility in my schedule and, as my husband has pointed out, I can take a nap at my job if I want. That's pretty awesome. But my job is hard work.

Excuse me. Spongebob is on and the television is calling my name.

A Hasty Evacuation

So, this is going to be sorta embarrassing, but if you all are going to be my friends, you might as well know:

I have bowel issues.

As a favor to the squeamish, I won't go into detail. When I gave birth to Adam, I had the urge to push and had to "hold it" for 10-15 minutes until the doctor got there. I kept telling them "the baby is right there!" but the nurses kept saying that the doc would be there any minute. By the time he finally got there, I didn't even have to push. Adam just slithered out on his own.

My pelvic floor has never been the same since. I don't know for sure, but I think that having a baby's head stuck down there for all that time, trying to get out while I was trying to hold it in, really screwed up my muscles' ability to properly do their jobs.

The result has been that when I realize that I'm going to have to make a stinky, I have less than five minutes to find a restroom. Five minutes is actually quite generous. Sometimes the thought process goes something like this: "I think I need to - yep! Outta the way!"

I'm not writing about my bowel issues as the main point of my blog, however. The point of the blog is the lamentable lack of easy access public restrooms. I can tell you which stores have restrooms, how many they have, where the restrooms are located and if you need a key to get into the restroom. I can't tell you how many times I have asked to use the restroom only to be told that there is no public restroom. I wonder: doesn't the look in my eyes say it all? "I will crap my pants, right here in your store, if you do not let me use the bathroom RIGHT NOW!"

It's embarrassing. I always find it handy when I have one of my kids with me so that when I inquire about the facilities I can give a little head nod towards my child. People are much more willing to let you use the WC if they think that it's a kid that needs to go. Because kids sometimes have accidents. But apparently adults are supposed to be above that. Boo.

In addition, I am one of those people who does not like others to know that I am pooping. Everyone poops. It's a scientific fact. Some people really enjoy it. Some people don't care for it. I am neither of those, but I do like my defecation to be private. I am (or used to be) the sort of girl who would sit in my bathroom stall and hold it until I was the only one left in the bathroom. If I couldn't hold it that long, I would strategically use toilet flushes (mine and others') to cover up any sounds. I also purposely pick the most isolated cell. It weirds me out to poop with someone sitting two feet away from me, even if we are separated by a wall. I'm always annoyed to go into a restroom with five or six stalls, all of them empty, pick one, and then have someone come in and take the stall right next to me. Come on, ladies. Give a girl some privacy, will ya?

Regrettably, the current situation of my pelvic floor no longer affords me the luxury of discretely pooping. I dash into a stall and let it all go, whether I'm alone or not. Some would think that it would be liberating. I am not numbered among those "some."

In addition, we only have one bathroom in our house. At times I have hovered over the toilet, waiting for the current occupant to finish.

Sorry kids. Mommy has to go. NOW!

Don't Go Stealin' My Mojo

I recently bought this fabric to use as binding on a quilt. I'm going to cut it on the bias so that it's all diagonal and stuff and it will be awesome. Just you wait. I'll post pictures.



I couldn't help but notice, however, the notation on the edge of the fabric. Copyright Protected? Really? There is nothing else on the fabric but those red and white stripes. Nothing. That must have been an intense design session when the designer came up with that one.

"It has 1/8" red stripes and 1/16" white stripes and no one else can ever make fabric like it - EVER! It took me months of intense work and thought and no one will ever benefit from my blood, sweat and tears!"

I think I'm going to copyright something equally ridiculous, like drinking water, or breathing.

Something's a-fowl

Last weekend we increased the size of our family by ten. Four ducklings and six chicks, to be precise. We put them in the kids' wading pool in the laundry room where I figured the mess would be contained. I was either stupid, naive, overly optimistic or a combination of the three. There are cedar shavings everywhere in my house. I mean everywhere. When I change the toddler's diaper I find cedar shavings.



We mostly bought the birds for pets. We will eat the eggs that the chickens will eventually lay, but basically we want to be able to go outside and have chickens and ducks to watch. The little pamphlet that came with the birds says that if you want your birds to be tame you need to hold them for several minutes a couple of times a day. We have encouraged our kids to spend a lot of time with the chicks, which hasn't been hard at all. They have loved them! Something that I didn't expect was this:


He won't leave them alone! So far he has been very gentle with them, just giving them some exploratory sniffs and tongue baths, but I wonder what he's thinking.

"Which of you are Extra Crispy and which of you are Original Recipe?"

The ducklings already love the water. I, however, don't love cleaning the tub after they're done swimming.




We had to upgrade to a taller container because some of the birds were able to jump out of the wading pool. This one isn't much taller so we may need to upgrade again. With any luck, by then the birdies will have their grown up feathers and be able to go outside to their coop.

We are going to eventually name all of the birds but right now we have only named two. The little Rhode Island Red chick is Maybelline and the smaller of the mallard ducks is Jeffrey-effrey-effrey, after the gosling in "Charlotte's Web." We are open to any name suggestions you may have.

Out of the Mouths of Mothers

All of the following things have been said by me at some point in my nine years of motherhood:


"Please don't poke him in the eye."

"Don't put tuna fish between your toes!"

"Please eat your chocolate pudding with your spoon and not your toes."

"Who put Spongebob in the fridge?"

"That's not chap stick, it's a glue stick!"

And my new personal favorite, uttered just moments ago: "Why is there a (live) chicken on the couch?"