Looks Like We Made It

Today is the last day of NaBloPoMo and there can be no better way to mark the occasion than to quote Barry Manilow. Actually, there are about a million better ways to mark any occasion besides quoting Barry Manilow lyrics but that damn song is stuck in my head.

I could say that it was hard and that I never really thought I would make it but I would be lying. Not that I am above lying but I'm just not going to do it today. Well, I'm just not going to do it right now. I always knew I'd finish. I didn't expect, however, to enjoy it so much. I will say that it is nice to finish something other than a pint of Chunky Monkey.

Maybe now I'll finish the long awaited Peep movie...

What Can You Tell About Me?

I bopped over to Amazon.com today to look for a DVD and came face to face with my recently viewed items. There were three things highlighted:

The Chicken Chucker

I bought this for Luisa's birthday last week. It's a gun that shoots little plucked chickens. I'm sure she would be the envy of all if she would only spread word of the Chucker. As for me, I just love working "Chicken Chucker" into every possible conversation because it makes me laugh. Every. Single. Time.

I Like You: Hospitality Under the Influence by Amy Sedaris

I am hoping to get this for Christmas and was getting the relevant information to pass on to Santa's elf. Everyone needs party tips from the intoxicated. You'd think I would have enough of those from my mother.

Imse Vimse Training Pants

Ah, the joys of potty training. Imse Vimse also makes the best swim diapers in the world. In case you have a small child or are incontinent yourself.

This is my life in a nutshell: poultry, parties and potties. Don't I sound exciting?

More Evidence of the Apocalypse

I ran across this article yesterday and was stunned. A woman hung a peace symbol wreath on her home and neighbors demanded that she take it down because it was a) disrespectful to families who have soldiers serving in Iraq and b) a possible sign of Satan. What? I know that I may be a little wacky but I think advocating for peace best serves the soldiers. Peace tends to have fewer fatalities. As for signs of Satan? Well, I realize that most people retired their flowered VW buses awhile ago but I still thought a peace sign was a fairly universal symbol.

Today, it appears that there has been a truce called in the Battle of the Wreath. I think it is time that we reclaim the peace symbol as a sign of patriotism. I'd advocate that we all greet each other by making the peace sign with our fingers but people would probably think we were just flipping them off.

Christmas Picture Outakes

Our good friend, Edie, came over yesterday to take pictures of our family for our Christmas card. She took 65 photos and we were lucky to come up with 3 decent pictures. For your viewing pleasure, I am posting the Best of the Worst.

Zeca is pretending that all of the posing is a bad dream

Miguel and Zeca make like Easter bunnies rather than Elves

Always thoughtful, Miguel keeps Zeca from levitating

A face that could never be replicated

Unsolved Mysteries

You walk into your baby's room. The first thing you see is a dry pull-up on the floor outside her crib. Then, you notice that she is sitting in her crib, naked from the waist down. You then notice her pants on the floor as well but they are wet. You look into the crib and see that there is a large wet spot on the side of the crib opposite where she is sitting. The spot she is sitting on is absolutely dry. What happened here?

It turns out that when you put your baby down for a nap, she took off her pants, removed the pull-up and tossed it out of the crib. She then put her pants back on and laid down for her nap. While sleeping, she peed through her pants and onto her sheets. She woke up and was not happy about the state she found herself in, so, she removed her wet pants and threw them out of her crib. She then moved to the other side of the crib. You pieced this all together after she said, "I no like a pull-up."

Lights

My parents always decorated our house for Christmas. My mother filled the house with beautiful candles nestled in fragrant pine boughs. She wrapped the banisters with garland and placed poinsettias strategically around the rooms for splashes of color. The woman sure knew how to create holiday ambience. While the inside of our house was tasteful, the outside was, well, bright. My father liked lights...lots of lights. He covered the exterior with hundreds of multicolored lights and, on the roof, he placed the centerpiece of his creation - a waving Santa in his sleigh and all eight reindeer prancing. I remember gazing up at that glowing Santa and reindeer and thinking that they might truly take flight at any moment. Those memories are some of the best of my childhood. After my parents divorced, neither of them ever did Christmas in quite the same way.

I want to create holiday memories for my children. I want them to be able to look back and remember decorating the tree, putting up lights and making Christmas cookies. I want them to remember all the times we stood out in the cold to watch the Holidazzle Parade and the times we went to see the holiday display on the eighth floor of Macy's. I want them to remember sitting around the tree singing Christmas carols. Miguel is old enought to remember the rituals from year to year and will remind us of certain things that we always do and must not forget. In those moments, I know that we are creating those times that will become his childhood memories.

Tonight, I am missing Santa and his sleigh on the rooftop but a trip to the Holidazzle and putting up lights of our own helps...

Free at Last

A few weeks ago, we discovered the wonderful world of WiFi and I haven't been the same since. Dial up was frustratingto begin with but, once I experienced the speed of wireless, it became unbearable. We have been planning to upgrade our technology for awhile because we take a lot of pictures and upload them for our families to see. It's possible that I may have been uploading my photos on my work computer and blogging at work but I can neither confirm or deny that. Plus, blogging with the whole dial-up thing has been a challenge and yesterday I couldn't log into Blogger with our stupid connection and had to take Luisa's laptop and go to our local cafe to use the wireless. Blogging at a cafe on Thanksgiving. Yep, that was me. How am I blogging right now, you may be wondering? Well, I am blogging on our new laptop with my new high speed DSL. It's not wireless but we will get there eventually.

Luisa left the house at 3:30 a.m. this morning and went to Best Buy. It was my Portuguese girlfriend and hundreds of American bargain seekers. I'm sure she had all sorts of cultural observations but I can't give you all the details because she is probably asleep on the couch by now. She stood in line for a long time but she got us a hell of a deal on this computer. It is so cool!

So, I no longer have dial-up. Now, I just need to use that iPod.

Thanksgiving: An Interview with Miguel

Me: Why do we celebrate Thanksgiving?

Miguel: Because it's about giving thanks.

Me: Why do we give thanks?

Miguel: For everything we have in our lives.

Me: What are you thankful for?

Miguel: I am thankful for having moms and having a home. I'm thankful for me having a baby sister.

Me: Why are you glad you have a baby sister?

Miguel: Because she plays with me a lot.

Me: Do you know anything about pilgrims?

Miguel: What does that mean? What are pilgrims?

Me: What's the best part of Thanksgiving?

Miguel: You make cranberry sauce.

Me: How do you make it?

Miguel: You put fresh cranberries in a bowl. You wash them. You keep the orange peel on the orange and grind the orange peels. You blend it in a food processor. Then, you taste it. Then, you add sugar. You add 3 scoops of sugar. Then, you taste it. And then, you put it in the bowl. Then, you are ready to do the next batch.

Miguel: You have a nice Thanksgiving!

The Holiday Shopping Guide

This coming weekend is a big shopping weekend and, because I am concerned for your sanity, I want to provide you with a helpful guide for gender stereotypical toys. That's right folks! If you find yourself out and about searching for a toy for that special child in your life, you can pull out the handy dandy cheat sheet below to guide you. Are you thinking of getting a doll for your nephew? Check the list - dolls are only for girls. Are you considering a tool set for your granddaughter? Look closely - tools are for boys so you might want to consider an arts and crafts set instead. Print this page, cut out the little box below and I can guarantee stress-free shopping for you and yours. If you stop at Target by chance, thank them for this enlightening tool because I got it from their website.

Ego Killer

Miguel and I are in the car, driving home from school. He is pondering the future and his possible careers.

Miguel: I want to be an astronaut when I grow up.

Me: That's great!

Miguel: What would I have to do to become an astronaut?

Me: Well, you would have to go to school for many years and study lots of science.

Miguel: O.k. I can do that.

There is some quiet humming from the back seat and then silence.

Miguel: Mom, why didn't you want to be anything when you grew up?

Me (to self): Oh honey, I did. I wanted to be humbled daily so I became a mother.

Conference #2

Today was Miguel's parent-teacher conference which is always fun. When he was 3, he asked another child to stick a bead in his ear which necessitated an early pick-up and a trip to the ENT. When he was 4, there was the shoe polish incident. Good times, I tell ya. We could only imagine what awaited us at this, his first conference as a 5 year old. The teacher began by telling us that he is having an amazing year. His reading and writing skills are exploding. He is doing a lot of math work. He challenges himself in all areas and works with a variety of children. He has become a leader in the classroom. As Luisa and I smiled and nudged each other proudly, the teacher said that there was one story she had to tell us, however. One day, another child was working with the math materials and Miguel was lying across the child's work table. Then, Miguel put his feet on a shelf near the table to balance himself. The whole shelf collapsed, sending math materials everywhere. Montessori math materials people. Beads. Small wooden spindles. Cubes. Thousands of tiny items used for counting. Apparently, it was the Crash Heard Around the School.

Despite the property destruction, we love our mischievious Miguel. Now, if we can just get his sinus infection under control, we'll be set.

Mothers Goose

It was 21 degrees this morning but we are Minnesotans (transplants, though we are). As such, we donned coats, hats and gloves and walked to our local coffee shop. We had coffee and the kids had hot chocolate. We consumed an assortment of fresh baked goods. Then, Luisa got a ham and egg breakfast sandwich with a side of greens. Miguel ate all of the greens and Zeca ate all the ham. We are living with Jack Sprat and his wife.

So Much Paper

WhenI graduated from college and got my first job, I promised myself that I would spend $25 per week on books. I don't know that I kept the promise but I have always loved bookstores and buying books. This afternoon, I went to a bookstore. By myself. I felt like I was the benificiary of the Make a Wish Foundation. I wandered through the aisles casually. I picked up books and slowly read a few words. It was quiet and I was alone with the possibility in all of the words that surrounded me. There were no children whining for water. There were no children to bribe with goldfish crackers so that I could put a complete thought together. It was just me, all those books and the smell of paper. So, Is it the smell of the paper that always makes me have to, uh you know, go to the bathroom? Maybe my body just knows that it is the only time that I can go alone.

Struggling with Stuff

Next week is Thanksgiving which means that Christmas (if you celebrate) will be here before you can say "Holy elf poo, Santa!" For the past couple of weeks, Luisa and I have been trying to come up with gift ideas for our children that we can give to family members. This is not an easy process because we try to limit plastic toys, toys with batteries and large toys. Initially, we planned to get hockey skates and a stick for Miguel and a doll bed and accessories for Zeca. These things are true to their interests but, when we stood back and looked at the list, we were horrified. I cannot think of anything more stereotypical for a boy and a girl than those very things. Now, we have to exclude plastic, batteries, large toys and toys that have a gender specific aura. Our holiday shopping will be so much easier now.

There is also the quantity issue. We cannot seem to stop the tsunami of gifts that arrive on birthdays and Christmas. Our children probably have fewer toys than a lot of their peers but they still have everything they could possible want. They have so many toys and, yet, they still wander aimlessly around the house. If each child gets an average of 10 gifts per year for the next 16 years that they live with us, we will need a house the size of Kansas. Please remember that it was last year, as I tried to put away the Christmas gifts, that I realized we needed more space. Christmas excess drove me to add two rooms onto my house. This year, I may have to buy Kansas.

Conference #1

We had our first parent-teacher conference for Zeca this morning. She is not yet two but the teacher had a lot to say about her. Zeca is independent and self-motivated. She enjoys being challenged and likes to be helpful. She is an extrovert and plays well with the other children. Even when Zeca pulls hair, she is the first person to provide comfort to the crying child (once she can get her fingers extricated from the victim’s hair). She is physically active though not a fan of kick ball. She communicates well and has a good sense of humor. Apparently, all of the teachers find her to be a joy.

This is not to say that Zeca is perfect. Twice they have caught her in the back lot, smoking cigarettes and talking shit about the other toddlers.

For the Love of Evel Knievel

It was 1973 and I was 5 years old but I can remember these toys as clearly as if I had walked by them in Target last week. I can remember the grinding and humming sound the launcher made as I wound it as fast as my little arm could go. I would hit the release and the motorcycle would speed up that ramp and through the ring of fire, Evel Knievel tumbling to a stop beyond. It was a thrill every single time. I used the tools to work on the cars and can remember their weight in my small hands. I remember Evel's hard chest, snazzy suit and those brown plastic curls under his scuffed white helmet. These were my favorite toys and almost the only ones I remember from my early childhood. Evel Knievel was the coolest. I wanted to be Evel Knievel. As I look back, I can't help but wonder why my mother was shocked when I came out at 21.

June Cleaver is a Lesbian

I have friends who are active in the national political arena. I have a friend who is attending documentary school in New York. My partner just went to Mozambique to work with health ministers there on issues related to HIV/AIDS. While they are all out there movin’ and a shakin’, I am trying to figure out what Miguel can use as bowling pins for the gingerbread bowling alley that he is planning. When my friends talk about their work around issues of white privilege, it is hard to work in a cute anecdote about my baby walking around with a pull-up on her head. When my friend talks about his documentary project on terrorism, I listen intently and ask questions but I feel like we live in completely different worlds. My family is what is most important to me and it makes me feel so damn old fashioned. I may be a lesbian but I seem to have more in common with June Cleaver with every passing day. Before you know it, you’ll show up at my house to find me in a snappy little cocktail dress. I’ll press a martini in your hand, call you “dear” and then retreat to my room to polish my pearls. I’m a feminist, for god’s sake. Why do I sometimes feel like being a good mother is just not enough?

Because I Always Talk About Earth Sciences in the Middle of the Night

It is 1 a.m. and we hear Miguel call out to us from his room. We go in and he complains that his hands are hot, the sure sign that he has a fever. We dope him up and I get into bed with him. He doesn't feel well and is frightened.

Vikki: Don't worry honey. Mãe and I always take good care of you.

Miguel (urgently): What mama? What did you say?

Vikki: I said, mãe and I always take good care of you.

Miguel: Oh, I thought you said "archaeologist".

The Day After

The Portuguese Dinner was fabulous and I am incredibly relieved. We ate a lot and drank a lot and went to bed at 2 a.m. Our eldest child woke up at 5:30 a.m. You can imagine how the rest of day went. The well rested children expected the sleep deprived parents to actually do things with them and to answer their endless questions. We were contestants in Parental Survivor. We were faced with a series of tasks like doubling random numbers to infinity, explaining why the word "Christmas" is spelled that way and trying to find small, but oh so special, toys in the house with only shoulder shrugs and misleading information to guide us. The only good part was that we didn't have to eat bugs.

We won. We outlasted them. They are in bed and I am heading to bed myself.

Uma Noite Portuguesa

Tonight, we are hosting a Portuguese Dinner for eight guests. Each guest paid to attend and the proceeds go to Lake Country School. Here is the menu:

Aperitivos – Appetizers

Chouriço com Pão – Chorizo with Bread

Ameijoas à Bulhão Pato – Clams with Garlic and Cilantro

Azeitonas – Olives

Vinho Verde – Green Wine

Sopa - Soup

Caldo Verde – Green Soup

Entradas – Entrées

Sardinhas Grelhadas com Pimentos – Grilled Sardines with Peppers

Frango na Púcara – Jugged Chicken

Vinhos Tinto e Branco – Portuguese Red and White Wines

Sobremesas – Desserts

Café e Digestivo – Coffee and Port Win Tarte de Nata – Custard Tart

Suspiros com Ovos Moles – Meringues with Sweet Soft Eggs

Café e Digestivo – Coffee and Port Wine

I started the morning thinly slicing 3 pounds of collard greens for the Caldo Verde. My wrist is still aching from the task.

The soup is now finished and will be reheated right before serving. The clams are soaking in water to release their salt and grit. The sardines are covered in salt and ready to be grilled this evening. The sweet eggs are made. The custard is in the oven. Luisa is hacking the whole chickens to bits so that the chicken dish can be assembled. We are right on schedule. The wine will be uncorked around 4 p.m. and that is when the fun really begins.

Homeland Security

We are driving home and discussing our plans for Christmas. We are talking about getting a Christmas tree even though we will be travelling to Pittsburgh for Christmas this year.

Miguel: What if thieves come in our house while we're gone and take our Christmas tree?

Vikki and Luisa: No one is going to come in our house and take our Christmas tree.

Miguel: Because we have an alarm?

Vikki and Luisa: Well, yes, but also the Christmas tree would only be valuable to us.

Miguel: How do you know? The thieves might want a Christmas tree.

Vikki: Honey, don't worry. The world is basically a safe and good place.

Miguel: Yeah, except for the war and all the killing.

Vikki: Well, yeah, except for that.

Flip Flops for All

Luisa returned from Mozambique and brought gifts for all of us. She bought some beautiful hand carved masks, bowls and serving utensils. She also bought several richly colored batik prints. She also brought these:

We are now the flip flop family. The flip flops have tiny flags of Mozambique on them. The smallest pair, for Zeca, is just about the cutest thing I have ever seen. So cute, in fact, that they deserve a close up:

The only thing cuter than the baby flip flops is Zeca's fat little feet in them. "Flip flops for a child less than 2?" you ask. Yes...she has always wanted a pair of her own. The moment Luisa pulled them out of the suitcase, Zeca dropped the toy she was playing with and exclaimed in delight, "Zeca's shoes!"

Champagne Anyone?

Come on in and let me pour you a glass or ten so that we can all toast to brighter days.

Let's drink to the Democrats taking the House and Nancy Pelosi becoming the first woman Speaker of the House.

Let's drink to the new Democratic Senators who may damn well give Democrats control of the U.S. Senate.

Let's drink to Rumsfeld's resignation.

To all the local readers, let's drink to the Minnesota House and Senate going Democrat (along with many of the State offices).

And let's drink to Minnesota electing its first woman senator, Amy Klobuchar, and its first African-American U.S. Representative, Keith Ellison.

Drink all you want and feel free to dance on the tables. This is the most hopeful election in a long time. I resolve to enjoy this for a few days before I start thinking about Tim Pawlenty, Michele Bachmann, Wisconsin's new ban on same-sex marriage and the fact that elections should just not be this close.

Civic Duty

I have voted in every election since I turned 18. I still remember the very first time I voted. I clutched my "Susie Sunflower's Guide to Voting in Kansas" pamphlet and went to the polls with my father. He told me who to vote for in all of the small local races and I remember voting the exact opposite just to spite him. Years later, after his death, I learned that my father was a Republican. So, in 1986, I voted straight Democrat for the first time in my life.

I used to take pride in voting and enjoyed the excitement of Election Day but, in recent years, Election Day has been a disappointment. I am beginning to think that Susie Sunflower lied to me when she said that my vote counted. Maybe I am getting older and am no longer naive when it comes to party politics in this country. Maybe I am tired of voting for the person who is least dangerous instead of voting for the person who truly represents my values. Maybe I am tired of close elections in which there are so many allegations of people being denied their right to vote. Maybe I am tired of conspiracy theories. More than anything, though, I think I am just plain tired of my candidates losing.

I am waiting for my faith in the system to be renewed. Will today be the day?

Kumbaya Anyone?

In case you were considering a life dedicated to social work, I want to warn you that you would be subjected to training opportunities such as the following:

Bringing the Spirit to Work: Affirming Ourselves, Affirming Others
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
8:30-3:00 - Registration starts at 8:00
GC Auditorium, Level A

Did you notice that this is a DAY LONG training? Apparently, it takes a lot of time to make sure that everyone feels the love. I would rather poke myself in the eye repeatedly than to attend a training in which a group of social workers sits around affirming each other. Also, if you were wondering, the original e-mail announcement did in fact come in the lovely purple color pictured above. Somehow, the purple just makes it even more unappealing.

Parenting Fairy Tale

One upon a time, there was a little prince named Miguel. He had a very good life though he sometimes forgot that fact. One day, he worked very hard and earned $6 for raking leaves with his mother, the smart and witty queen. She then told him that she would take him to a party at a skating rink. He was excited and decided that he would take $2 with him to the rink and save $4 to put in his piggy bank (for the little prince was saving money to buy Goofy Golf).

The little prince, his sister the princess and the queen went to the skating party and had a wonderful time. The little prince skated and skated and skated. The princess, who was too young to skate, played skee ball and touched every germy surface possible. The queen showed pride in the little prince's skating and followed the princess around with wet wipes. The little prince took a break from skating and decided to play some skee ball and spent his $2 doing so. He earned numerous tickets that he later exchanged for a prize that was worth roughly 1/16th of the value of his original investment. Still, he was happy. The little princess was happy because the queen bought her a pink kazoo. The queen was happy because she had survived it all.

The royal family returned home. The princess went to bed and the little prince had a bath. As the prince bathed, he became increasingly hostile towards the kind and beautiful queen. He demanded more money from her. He told her that he would never listen to her again. He said that he would splash water on the floor and never clean it up. He said that he would never get out of the tub. Never. The queen began to think of the prince as an ungrateful little shit. She began to raise her voice ever so slightly. She began to speak through clenched teeth. Then, she decided not to speak at all. When faced with silence, the little prince collapsed in a soggy heap in the tub. He cried and cried and told the queen that she was the meanest mother ever. The queen removed the prince from the tub and dried him off, fighting the urge to throw him in the moat with the alligators. She was tired because the other queen of the castle was in Mozambique and had been for nearly a week. She wanted to put the prince's naked little butt to bed without another word so that she could watch The Amazing Race on the royal television. Instead, she took a deep breath and she asked the little prince to talk to her, to tell her why he was so angry and disrespectful. The little prince told the queen his tales of woe. He told her that kids at school sometimes tease him. He told her that his feelings are hurt when the little princess yells at him. He told her that, sometimes, the queen mothers make him feel bad too. And then, he told her what the queen believes was the root of all of this trouble. He wished that he had not spent his $2 playing skee ball. He wished that he had saved his money because he worked so hard for it and could not get it back. Oh, the tears that flowed over those $2. After all the tears had dried, the little prince was no longer angry and disrespectful. He no longer thought the queen was an evil miser and the queen no longer thought he was a toad. She tucked him into his bed and they cuddled together until he fell fast asleep.

The children slept and the queen blogged and they lived happily ever after.

Geek Cred

I'm in a confessional mood tonight so...

1. I won an iPod in July and have never used it.
2. I still have dial up.

I am losing my technology geek cred. There is hope for me though because I have found a new toy and I am in love. Yesterday, I stumbled across the Brio Network. I first saw the characters at Target online and have since scoured the web looking for more information. The best description comes from Creative Brains Online:

"Deep inside your computer lives a world of small creatures. They spend their days delivering mail, searching for information and recycling old stuff. There are also bugs among them trying to throw the Network off-course. What happens then, we can only imagine."

Brio has created an entire toy world that gives personalities and life to operations performed inside our computers.

There are good guys...

There are bad guys (viruses)...

There is the classic struggle between good and evil. The good guys try to do all the things they need to do to keep the network running and those absolutely adorable viruses try to thwart them. The Brio Network will either be wildly popular or will remain on store shelves untouched.

You can check out the full set, including the cute little e-mail stations that allow you to listen to unique recorded messages, at FAO Schwartz. I don't want the whole network...I would just like the Networkers Packs 1 and 2 (pictured above) and maybe one mail station. In case anyone was wondering...

Sticks and Stones

This morning, I heard that a church loosely connected to Congress person Michele Bachmann is urging her to declare that the Pope is the antichrist. Seriously. The antichrist. I'm neither Catholic nor staunchly Christian but I don't think we should be running around calling anyone the antichrist. As hateful as I believe Michele Bachmann to be, I doubt that she is stupid enough to make that declaration. Of course, that doesn't keep me from wishing she would so that her defeat in the upcoming election would be assured.

Then, I got on the Star-Tribune to see if there have been any more viscious squirrel attacks and I saw that the Democrat running for Governor, Mike Hatch, allegedly called a reporter a "Republican whore". I doubt that it matters much whether he said it or didn't at this point - I am now predicting that the current Republican governor will be re-elected. Sometimes, I just can't believe the creative ways Democrats find to sabotage their election efforts.

People have flat out lost their minds here in Minnesota. I am tired of the negativity and the cruel political ads playing on TV. Wake me up on Wednesday when all of this is over.

The State of the Nation

This is what passes for national news in The Star-Tribune today:

Letter Carrier Attacked by Squirrel

Not that the life of an Oil City, Pennsylvania letter carrier isn't important but, really, national news? You can visit the link and read the harrowing tale of the squirrel running up her pant leg. Fear not! There is no rabid squirrel terrorizing the nation - they shot it with a BB gun so that it could be tested. If Luisa were here and not in Mozambique with the lights flickering on and off, she would tell you all that squirrels are in one of the lowest risk categories for rabies. First the meerkats and now the lowly Pennsylvania squirrel.

Health Assessment

I took the the Health Assessment for my insurance provider (Health Partners) today. Shockingly, the computer program determined that I don't get enough sleep.

Get a good night's sleep - earn 25 more points

Since you are usually sleeping about six hours a night, you can improve your health and even live longer by adding just one hour of sleep each night. Your body's physical and mental functions get recharged during sleep, improving your concentration, energy level and immune system.

Try these six sleep steps: 1) Stay free from nicotine, alcohol and caffeine, especially later in the day. 2) Be physically active. 3) Keep a regular sleep schedule. 4) Create a "sleep-friendly" bedroom - relaxing, dark and quiet. 5) Take a warm shower or bath before going to sleep. 6) Keep paper and pen near your bed to jot down mental reminders that may be keeping you awake

Where is number 7? I'll give it to you...don't have kids. If you do, wear ear plugs or hire a night nanny. Yeah, I'm not going to earn those 25 bonus points.

NaBloPoMo

What the hell is NaBloPoMo you ask? Well, it's National Blog Posting Month, of course. I've decided to participate and that means I'll be posting every single day in November. That's right, EVERY day. While you are all enjoying your lovely Thanksgiving feasts later in the month, I'll still be right here...toiling away on my blog.

I've been looking for a blogging challenge and this is definitely a challenge. Am I up for it? Will I run out of ideas? Will I resort to long, emotional missives on my love of my big toe? Stay tuned for the answers to these questions and many more...