And We're Outta Here!!

So, you're going to leave Ireland day after tomorrow. Therefore, this will be my last post before you come home. I know you're out sightseeing tomorrow so HAVE A TON OF FUN!!!!!

I took the kids to the Tellus museum today and we had a really great time!

So sad to say that the 4,400 pound amethyst geode would NOT fit in the car. Disappointed that the kids didn't even try to help me get it out of the museum in the first place. Lazy, ungrateful bums. It would have made the perfect centerpiece to an otherwise ho-hum suburban front yard. But, next time we go back, I'll try for it. You in?

Jarrod's main MO was to run around and FIND ALL THE GOLD, MAMA! I LOVE GOLD! IT'S MY FAVORITE! I think I'm going to start calling him Scrooge. Or get him a job advertising gold coins on TV.  Speaking of Jarrod, he managed to choke on part of his PB&J sandwich at the cafe. I hadn't even sat down when he sputtered and then looked at me panicked. Just as I got in position to do the Heimlich, he swallowed it. He cried and I stopped shaking halfway through my tuna salad sandwich. Kids.

We whizzed through dinosaur bones and old cars (snooze-fest) and immediately went panning for gemstones.

Of course, the gemstones are small. Miniscule. Barely visible to the 40-something naked eye. I thought about telling them to collect enough to pay off the house for a month (emeralds, amethysts, and tiger eyes, OH MY!) but, yeah. Not so much. What we DID get was tee-tiny little Ziploc baggies of chips of semi-semi-semi-precious polished rocks (agate - BAH!) and wet shirts and shorts. And I ended up with a handful of purple quartz. Each time they found a piece, "HERE MAMA! HERE! THIS IS FOR YOU!!!" Yep, right up there with dandelions and gravel gifts. *Sniff!*

The best part of this 40-minute-long adventure, though, came from the random 4-year-old who got a kick out of the automatic hand dryers and decided to stand under one and loudly giggle. For 10 minutes. True story.

And then? The kids discovered the fossil room...

That wasn't actually dirt. And it wasn't sand. All I can figure is that it's tiny little bits of tan-colored recycled rubber. It had a really weird texture that I did not like. And the kids were supposed to brush it away to reveal the fossils underneath. The boys? Brushed. Amelia? Dug with two hands like a danged rat terrier after a rodent. Little bits of rubber were EVERYWHERE. Yeah. I pretended not to know them and acted like I was horrified at the feral kids in the fossil pit.

WHAT?!? It was the only way I could check on my Facebook/Twitter/Instagram feeds!

At any rate, we survived and it's time for me to hit the sack. See you on Sunday! Slán, ya'll!

Blarney This

You're going to kiss the Blarney Stone?!?!

Honey, sounds like you're having an adventure. YOU should be telling ME about your days, not the other way around. My crap is BORING!!!!

So, Amelia broke out into a secondary rash on her chest and I went into full-on mystery illness panic mode and yanked her back to the pediatrician. It was then that we discovered that, huh, that mystery butt rash is better. And the chest rash? Kind of lacy. Lacy rash = fifths disease. But... but... but... we dealt with that crap three years ago! I DON'T WANT FIFTHS DISEASE AGAIN!!! IT HURT!! AND MY NEIGHBOR HAD TO BABYSIT MY PANIC ATTACKS!! She asked me what symptoms Amelia had when she had fifths and we determined that she must have had a mild case and now, another mild case. And that the boys and I should be fine.

If I'm huddled in a corner, in the fetal position, at the CDC, when you return, you'll know why.

So, Mystery Rash 2015 is clearing up and will go in the history books alongside Pneumonia 2015 as TOTALLY SUCKING!

Nothing else to report. It's 10AM here. Kids are doing chores/reading/workbooks/piano and when they're done, I'm taking them to the Tellus Museum. Send me good juju. I'm going to need it!

Slán, ya'll!

Hammer Time!

I leave this here, without comment. It's me. Playing my dulcimer. And it's meh. But, hey! It's better than me prattling on for five pages, right?

Slán, ya'll!

PS Heard you're going to French kiss the Blarney Stone! All I have to say is you better wipe that face off with Clorox before you step off the plane. Nasty, germy Jodi!

Breaking Up With Pluto Is Hard To Do

Astronomers in 2005: PLUTO IS NOW A DWARF PLANET! THERE ARE ONLY EIGHT PLANETS IN OUR SOLAR SYSTEM!

Everybody else: Srsly? That's cold, bro.

Pluto in 2015: That picture to the left.

As you can see, I've been glued to the Twitter all day, watching any and all updates from @NASA, and squeeing with glee at the comeuppance Pluto is giving to all those hack astronomers ten years ago. Ah, yes, revenge is a dish best served cold. -387 degrees Fahrenheit, to be exact.

Anyway, things have been the usual ho-hum here. Amelia went to the pediatrician yesterday who said, "Huh. Dunno. Let's test her for rectal strep!" Which... apparently... is a thing. And I had no idea. We'll, hopefully, get the results tomorrow. And I'm REALLY hoping that's what she has because I don't need another mysterious kid illness on my hands. Pneumonia 2015 'bout did me in.

Yesterday, at Kroger (aka The Ninth Circle of Hell), the boys saw "Birthday Cake Quaker Granola Bars" and this random sighting of absolutely nothing interesting led to them weaving down the cereal aisle (in addition to several others), loudly singing "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!" The neighborhood now probably thinks I'm giving them 'ludes. And, as usual, my reputation as a stellar mother precedes me.

Speaking of which AT WHAT POINT DID IT BECOME CHEAPER TO SEND MY KIDS OUT OF STATE TO COLLEGE THAN IT IS TO SHOP WEEKLY AT KROGER?!? I mean, seriously? That shit is stupid-expensive. Like, here, take my kidney and I'll use that money to buy bread and milk. And by the way, where's the nearest dumpster so that I can collect our dinner?

Dude.

One of my azalea bushes has two blossoms on it.

All I can say is... GO HOME AZALEA BUSH! YOU'RE DRUNK! IT'S NOT SPRING! IT'S HOT-AS-FUCK*-MIDDLE-OF-THE-SUMMER! CHRISTMAS IN JULY SALES ARE GOING ON! THERE ARE NO EASTER EGGS! NO APRIL SHOWERS! ONLY BRUTAL, NEVER-ENDING HEAT AND MOSQUITOES! SAVE THAT SHIT FOR NEXT YEAR!

They don't bloom when I want them to and bloom when they damned well feel like it. It's bad enough my kids do that, but now my shrubbery has to do it, too?

#plantpuberty

My squirrel has returned every single day to gorge himself on my sunflower seeds/peanuts/corn yummies. And today? He brought a friend. That's two. By the weekend, I expect that to double to four. By the end of summer, I should have an army of squirrels to do my bidding AND I WILL RULE TOWNE LAKE!!!!

CREMATORIES ON EVERY CORNER!!!

PEANUT OFFERINGS ON EVERY FRONT PORCH!!!

COUCHES ON ALL THE LAWNS!!!

RUSTED HARLEY DAVIDSONS IN EVERY DRIVEWAY!!!

SQUIRREL MINION DOMINATION WILL BE MINE!!!

I should probably lay off the coffee.

I leave you with this final picture:

That's the view outside my window as I type this. It's about to storm buckets (severe thunderstorm watch and warning for another 15 minutes). The lightning is fierce and I should put this to bed. Hope all is well across The Big Pond!

Slán, ya'll!

*Last time I checked, this is NOT a family show. Ahem.

ZOMG!!!!!

I TOTALLY FORGOT TO WRITE A POST LAST NIGHT! AND NOW IT'S TUESDAY MORNING! AND I'M THE WORST FRIEND EVAR!!!!

In lieu of a decent post, we instead give you this video clip of David Letterman and Jack Hanna. Because, really, the only reason we ever watched David Letterman was to see and hear him verbally spar with this midwestern zoo director.

Bless their hearts.

PS I've decided now to refer to myself in the third-person plural. Like I'm friggin' royalty. Queen Heather, bitchez!!!

Snapped

Bet you thought I wasn't going to blog about anything, did ya? You're sitting over there in Ireland, with all those gorgeous, sexy, Irishmen, drinking all that sexy, dark beer, stewing because I told you I was going to blog, but I clearly haven't.

OH YEAH?!? WELL, I'M HERE TO TELL YOU, MISSY, THAT I WAS BUSY GETTING MY CLOROX ON, THANKYOUVERYMUCH!

So, anyway. On with the show!

The Shinto salt must've worked because it's status quo as usual with no angst or stress from next door. I mean, it's been pretty quiet since The Great Tree Felling of 'ween '14 but, hey, you can never be too careful. At some point, her bitchy conscience is going to override her guilty conscience and BAM! All HOA Hell will break loose again. So, I feel that the salt is just extra insurance. Granted, I probably just sprinkled some Morton's that some little Japanese guy poured into a bag, labeled $3, as he giggled about gullible haole tourists.

Worth. Every. Penny.

Anyway. Saturday started off with us taking the kids to see a movie at the Movie Tavern... for breakfast. The movie (Inside Out) was very cute (I cried, dang it. ALL THE PARENTAL EMOTIONS!!!!). The breakfast? Meh. I didn't know you could screw up eggs benedict that badly. But, hey. Time with the kids was worth it. Plus? We took this picture of Jarrod in the lobby:

Bless his dorky heart.

Last night, we headed over to a birthday party while Mom watched the kids. Our friend Brett (ghost hunting friend) turned 32 and had a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles party. And we all geeked out talking about Star Wars/Star Trek/Firefly/Dune/Disney/video games. Basically, just mention ANY nerdy subject and we ranted and raved about it for four hours. Good times!

(Birthday boy is not, I repeat, NOT in this picture. Because he was off talking to other people. Sucka.)

Today has been a day full of me whining. See, Amelia has this strange, awful, red, itchy rash on her bottom. It's not diaper rash or anything like that. I can't tell what it is. And, of course, it flares up over the weekend. (Sigh.) So, first course of business Monday morning is a trip to the pediatrician. Which meant doing Monday's housework today. Which meant, no Sunday for Mama. Anyway, I cleaned bathrooms, stripped beds, and folded mounds of laundry, all while watching a "Snapped" marathon on the Oxygen channel. You see where this is going, right? Women murdering their men. Me doing housework on a Sunday.

Yep, really bad combo.

On a lighter note, since getting rid of the bird feeder (ALL THE CARDINALS CAN SUCK IT!!), I felt like I needed to feed SOMETHING. Squirrels!!!!

Me and St. Francis are doing a bang-up job! Now, if I could just train him to crap on Janice's front stoop... (the squirrel, not St. Francis, although watching a Catholic saint take a dump on her stoop would be hi-larious)

Slán, ya'll!