Look no fur­ther! I have a great oppor­tu­nity for some­one. I am look­ing for a per­sonal shop­per and fash­ion con­sul­tant. I am seek­ing some­one with good fash­ion sense who can also find clothes at bar­gain base­ment prices. Please con­tact me if you think you may enjoy this posi­tion. With your con­tact, please include three out­fits that you find to be styl­ish yet prac­ti­cal for a busy mom of two.

Okay, so I’m not expect­ing a huge response to this ad. Actu­ally, I’m not really expect­ing any response. I do wish, though, that it would hap­pen. I was at the mall on Sat­ur­day, and I had coupons to use in two stores, and I really couldn’t find any­thing that looked like what I thought I wanted. That is prob­lem one. Prob­lem two is that when I find things that I like at the store, about 60% of them turn ugly or unde­sir­able in the car on the way home. I’ve been try­ing to con­vince Jason for a cou­ple years that he should turn me in to What Not to Wear on TLC, but so far I haven’t noticed any­one fol­low­ing me or ask­ing me ques­tions about my style for a mar­ket­ing video.

So, if you’re inter­ested…

Yay, how fun! This week, I was tagged for a meme. Susan at Sin­ner Saved tagged me for the Seven Ran­dom Things meme.

The Rules

1. Post the rules on your blog.

2. Write 7 ran­dom things about yourself.

3. Tag 7 peo­ple at the end of your post.

1. I don’t like the word ran­dom. I don’t believe there is any­thing ran­dom. Even ran­dom num­ber gen­er­a­tors are not really gen­er­at­ing ran­dom num­bers. There is a pro­gram to deter­mine what num­ber is gen­er­ated next.

2. Right now, I’m lov­ing the series Veron­ica Mars.

3. I needed a hair­cut about 2 weeks ago, and I’m |this close| to call­ing my styl­ist to beg her to fit me in even though my appoint­ment is Tues­day morning.

4. I shov­eled show for the first time this year ear­lier tonight.

5. I love the library and books. That’s not very sur­pris­ing or ran­dom, but this meme is pretty hard for some­one who doesn’t “do” random.

6. I am in love with my elec­tric blanket.

7. I put myself out there last night. If it turns out well, you’ll find out. Wish me luck (another thing I don’t believe in).

I’m going to tag 7 peo­ple, but if you want to do this meme, put a link in the com­ments. I love read­ing about other peo­ple! And, if your name is Shan­non, get a blog so I can tag you.

Andi

Heather

Julie

Karen

Michelle

Audrey

Jen­nifer

Updated Sat­ur­day morn­ing at 10:04 a.m.:  Ask and you shall receive.  Shan­non now has a blog!

Yes, appar­ently one or both Jason and I say “oofta.” Yes, we also live in North Dakota, so it prob­a­bly hap­pens more than we ever real­ize. This fact was ham­mered home to us the other night at sup­per when Jason said, “oofta” after A had a cough­ing spell. K looked at him and said, “Asa poopy?” So appar­ently, we not only use the word oofta, but we use it as an exple­tive when chang­ing a smelly diaper.

More and more over the past few weeks, we’ve been hear­ing K repeat things that we have said to him. One night, Jason was giv­ing him two choices for get­ting his dia­per changed. K kept telling Jason that he didn’t want to have his (poopy) dia­per changed. He wanted to wear it. (On a side note, you can tell we’re not exactly steam­ing down the road of potty learn­ing . ) Jason told him, “That’s not a choice.” Later that night dur­ing the bed­time rou­tine, K and Jason were talk­ing and at one point, K said to Jason, “No, Daddy, that not a choice.”

Last week, we spent a lit­tle time with my mother-in-law and father-in-law. One of the days, my nieces (ages 6 and 4 were over). At one point, I heard them argu­ing, and the six year old was say­ing, “That’s fair!” to her sis­ter over whether or not she needed to share some toys with her. Fast for­ward to this morn­ing. I was show­ing K the new library books we had checked out for this week. He was pretty excited about them, and he kept pulling them out of the bag and say­ing, “That very fair!”

Then, there are the things he picks up that I’m not sure where they came from. “You know bet­ter, Mommy!” “A, you being bad!” “No, no, no, no, no!” These are not things we say to him. I know that now that his peers are speak­ing more and we are around more and dif­fer­ent peo­ple, his pool of expe­ri­ences to draw from also grows.

He’s at an age where he is such a sponge. He doesn’t have pre­con­ceived ideas of what is fun or not fun (video games vs. books) or what music is good or not good (pop music vs. opera). He loves so many dif­fer­ent things. I think that his new ten­dency to repeat things that we say at just the right time is good for us in more than one way. While it reminds me that he’s always lis­ten­ing to what we say, it also reminds me that he is pick­ing stuff up All. The. Time. I am rais­ing a lit­tle sponge, and I want him to be able to absorb all that he can before this time ends.

You know that when­ever your spouse says, “Do you know what your son just did?” some­thing hasn’t gone quite right. This morn­ing, I was lay­ing in bed nurs­ing A, and Jason said those words. I didn’t answer, because I knew he was dying to tell me. Sure enough, the answer fol­lowed almost imme­di­ately. “He put Magic Butt Cream in his hair.” For those of you who don’t know, Magic Butt Cream is the dia­per cream that we get from our doc­tor for a dia­per rash that isn’t con­trolled by the reg­u­lar over the counter stuff. A few weeks ago, K and Jason had a talk about how we don’t eat the Magic Butt Cream. It’s only for sore butts. It’s not for eat­ing. Well, he didn’t try eat­ing it again. This time, he took about 1/2 of what was left, and he smeared it in his hair. Ugh.

Unfor­tu­nately for me, Jason was on his way out the door and on his way to work. I was lucky enough to take over the emer­gency bath. In addi­tion to hav­ing a head full of grease, K did not want to take a bath, and he had a poopy dia­per! I man­aged to talk him into the bath. Then, I started in on his hair with Dawn. Dawn cuts grease, right? I fig­ured that was my best chance at get­ting some of that stuff out of his hair. He was patient enough to let me lather and rinse his hair twice. THen, he lost patience, so I took him out of the bath, and he spent the rest of the day with the wet look.

Tonight at sup­per, he con­tin­ued on with the hair exper­i­ment and decided to try apple­sauce in his hair. I told Jason that it was his turn to work on K’s hair. He did the 2nd bath of the day with both boys. While they were in the bath­room, I checked the inter­net and found that some peo­ple sug­gested using corn­starch for get­ting Vasaline out of hair, so we tried it. K thought it was pretty funny, and I fig­ured it couldn’t hurt. I didn’t get a chance to see his hair after it dried, so I’m not sure if the corn­starch solved our prob­lem or not. I’ll be inter­ested to see how it looks tomorrow.