So I have lived in Texas since 1989, and Mower since 1988. All three of my kids have been born here, but none of us have really developed a full-on twang. But Bubba is trying. Last night she asked if she could get her hair wet in the bayith.

I said, "The bath? Sure. But the bayith, nope."

She looked at me with typical seven-year-old disgust and shame that she shares my DNA and announced that she said "Bayith!"

"Yup, you said bayith." I agreed.

She stomped her foot. "I did not say bayyyyeeeeth, I said bayith."

I agreed again, she said "Bayith."

She got the scowl on her face that I remember perfecting at her age, and before she could argue further, I told her to get her "Buttith to the bayith."

I should have seen this coming, she drew it in crayon, the elementary version of carving it in stone:

The T-Rex is fixin' to eat sumthin, so better tuck tail and get outer the way!

Posted by PJ at 11:30 AM | E-Mail PJ | Permalink

If you are unable to read it, this is a picture of Wal-Mart's website for Moon Shoes, a delightfully wonderful product that is not sold online, and it is not sold in stores. I can either assume it was not available anywhere on the market yet, although they were advertising it on tv, or they really enjoy messing with me above and beyond the cashiers that should be wearing a monitoring device.

Posted by PJ at 04:59 PM | E-Mail PJ | Permalink

Posted by PJ at 01:26 PM | E-Mail PJ | Permalink

UGH. I want bubbly goodness in my mouth, down my throat and eating away at my health right now. I'm not going to, nor have I. I haven't found a suitable replacement other than water, because unsweetened tea tastes like dirty donkey balls, and sweet tea tastes like sugared donkey balls. So I am stuck here, drinking a glass of water, alternating between congratulating myself on not giving in and wondering if it would taste better with some Halloween candy in it. Like a Kit Kat.

Posted by PJ at 11:23 AM | E-Mail PJ | Permalink

I have no idea how long it has been, and don't care. I'm FREEEEEEEEEEEE! I seem to have gotten over the caffeine addiction and have actually waking up all right on my own, without needing several DDPs to just feel normal. I still need time to fully wake up, but I noticed I was starting the dishes in the morning, not the afternoon. And not because a blanket of fuzz was reaching out to caress my arm when I chanced by the sink. Improvement, eh?

I am currently wiped out by a head cold, and before that, I was knocked on my butt by something I ate. So I obviously need to work on my food intake and my body is reacting to all the changes, but it could be worse, a lot worse. I don't feel like my skin is crawling, like my hair is tickling me, or like I am about to just start screaming and never stop. I find it easier to handle the kids as the days have gone on. I actually gave Mower a mini-backrub on his pavement-like back last night, without him asking or me trying to get anything out of it.

The still-hard part is the direct opposite of what I used to think. Now I am wondering what, other than water, I can drink. I used to just get a soda and wonder when I would want or squeeze in the water I knew I needed, but didn't feel like ordering. Now I drink the water and wonder what I can have when I am sick of the water. Some tea, some juice, that's about it. Better problem to have, though.

I have read that it can take up to 60 days to get aspartame out of your system, so I am assuming by Christmas, it will be just me, without the asparatme affecting my moods and temperment and body issues. That's kinda a scary thought, to face myself without excuses. I hope I'm up for the challenge!

Posted by PJ at 12:08 PM | E-Mail PJ | Permalink

Bubba came home from school and told about a substitute teacher who read a story about a turnip and then showed the kids that she brought one in for the kids to handle and then taste. Bubba fawned over the memory of that turnip. I told her I had never tasted one, but I would definitely be open to getting some for all of us. Bubba then threw herself on the couch in apparent ecstasy and ordered me to "Buy some, woman!"

Woman. Yesterday she called me Mother. What's next? Biotch? Ho? Egg donor? Sigh. This kid cracks me up and drives me nuts at the same time. I love it!

Posted by PJ at 05:53 PM | E-Mail PJ | Permalink

When you cut out the caramel color from not drinking sodas, and you fill up on Wheat Thins, your poop changes colors accordingly. Kinda like poop light. Ghost poop. Boo!

Posted by PJ at 02:50 PM | E-Mail PJ | Permalink

A container of organic prunes will ruin two perfectly good outfits, along with several receiving blankets on the changing table. May also cause parents to cower in fear.

Additionally, putting a baby of Honey's age into the Jumperoo or Intellitainer is very much like putting a cat into a bath, but with more screeching and scratching.

And finally, my youngest child would like you to know that she can do a better impression of the Ring Wraiths from "Lord of the Rings" than anyone else within a five-mile radius. If you ask me what that sounds like, I can't answer since I have no hearing left in my ears.

Posted by PJ at 02:55 PM | E-Mail PJ | Permalink

This blows. I have the patience of a....oh, fuck, I can't think of anything with less patience. I don't even have the patience to think of something or google something with a short patience span.

Handsome wanted to watch "Happy Feet" which bothers the heck out of me. The peguins are about this . close to humping each other. The sounds and songs in it are all about getting in the mood. Exactly what I think my four-year-old should be hearing and emulating. It's basically 108 minutes of penguin porn.

I have a little bit more focus once I am up, which normally would take me three sodas to achieve. Dishes are being washed and I've cleaned up a little. I would traditionally drink several DDP's in the morning, assuming I haven't begged Mower to let me get a nap, and then say I would get started at noon. If I actually did get started at noon, it more likely than not involved going out and doing some shopping, again involving some more DDP.

I feel like there should be a support group for overly sensitive, irritable people who are addicted to very stupid things. Like DDP, articles about Britney Spears, and MTV's Date My Mom.

Posted by PJ at 11:34 AM | E-Mail PJ | Permalink

I ended up pouring out the remaining DDPs in the fridge and recycling the cans the other day. So far, I have caved once in the many, many hours where I instinctively go to the fridge looking for a soda, and got a Sprite at McDonald's. I know, really healthy food, right? Eh. One step at a time. And hopefully that will be my last soda for a while. I didn't despise it, but didn't enjoy it much either. It's kinda like watching a tv show starring someone who you totally appreciate their acting abilities, but their personal politics make you want to vomit.

Mower and I figured out a little more definitively how much we have spent on soda in a week. About $25 easily, including eating out and having a soda each once a week. We'd waste gas trying to find soda cheaper at stores we might not normally shop at or drive to.

Hot Stuff emailed an article that was on the other spectrum from what I found, and I just gotta say, Hot Stuff--you are one sexy septuagenarian! That aside, I know the site I went to is of course, biased against aspartame and found evidence to support that position. I know that, like vaccines and crotchless underwear, there are going to be people that are totally for or totally against anything, including aspartame.

I wish I could be middle of the road on this, but I know me, and everytime I have tried to reduce my intake of soda, it creeps back up like your undies under a tight pair of jeans. It's impossible to take care of without digging into ass. Same with my soda addiction. I can't keep clinging to something that is hurting my health, even if I am buying too much into a conspiracy-theory thought process. Plus I need the extra money for midget porn.

Posted by PJ at 10:56 PM | E-Mail PJ | Permalink