Random Musings....Again

Yet again, I am suffering from a bit of writer's block this morning. I find that I have a lot to say, but nothing significant enough to fill an entire blog entry. So, as as been the case several times in the past, you get to be treated to my random and discombobulated musings this morning. Here they are...thoughts/updates/highlights/reflections on my life as it stands today.

I rejoined Weight Watchers for the umpteenth time this past weekend. Despite the lofty goal of decriminalizing food I wrote about last month, I really had no choice. My pants have become so tight that I fear a button will suddenly dislodge one day, fly across the room, and poke someone's eye out. I don't need that kind of guilt.

I believe that my four-year-old daughter is nearing puberty. I've read statistics that indicate children today are reaching puberty at a significantly earlier age than previous generations. Sophie's fiendish case of PMS yesterday indicated that she much be among these children. Though four still seems a bit young, doesn't it?

After yesterday's post about my son's decidedly sucky birthday party, I took him to Target to buy him a new--working--Wii game. They did not have the one I bought him for his birthday. I had bought that one on eBay for a steal (though the seller claimed it was brand new), which could explain its performance woes. The one Lucas chose at Target yesterday was Super Mario Galaxy II. I dutifully forked over $50. For a little game disc?! What a rip! Of course, Lucas was so excited that his entire body was vibrating in his snow boots. So perhaps it was worth it, after all.

Speaking of snow boots, I am feeling rather done with them. And coats and gloves and hats and scarves and snow pants. Getting my children out the door has become an exercise in perseverance. I heard on the news last night that we have received 50-something (I was piddling on Facebook at the time, so didn't catch the second digit) inches of snow so far this winter. And in Minnesota, it doesn't get warm enough for that heinous stuff to melt until April! So it just sits around, piling up. And up. And up. I am seriously considering building an Igloo in my front yard and hibernating until Spring. Shhh....don't wake me up.

After much debate and wrangling, Ruanita and I have concluded that we are going to send our twins to kindergarten next year rather than holding them back another year. For the first time in our eight years of parenting together, we actually disagreed on what is best for our children. It was an odd thing....this disagreement. I am used to Ruanita agreeing with and--let's be honest--hanging on every word I say (wink, wink. nudge, nudge). I was a bit taken aback that she had an opinion different from my own. Is it possible that my words are not the golden little nuggets of wisdom I always assumed they were? Is it possible that I am NOT pope-like in my infallibility? Perhaps I am not the wisest mother ever to grace the Earth with her presence, after all? Wow. I am not sure what to do with this new ground-shaking revelation. I'll have to ponder that one a bit....

I need a new job. I am feeling extremely undervalued in my current position. However, I am finding it difficult to locate a position with the part-time hours I need that will pay me what I am making now to essentially sit around and blog all day. Crazy, huh?

I just realized this morning that Ruanita I celebrated our 13th anniversary on December 27th. Actually, we did not celebrate our 13th anniversary. As a matter of fact, until today, neither one of us had realized that our anniversary had come and gone at all. How sad is that? We have an anniversary in July, as well...the anniversary of our commitment ceremony. Although that was a wonderful day surrounded by family and friends, it loses a tiny bit of its significance because it was not the legal marriage we have always wanted. Therefore, December 27th has historically been the anniversary we choose to celebrate. That is, until this year. How in the world did we manage to forget? Both of us, even! I am not sure how I feel about this. Is it sad? Pathetic? Expected? Understandable? Hysterical? Calamitous? I will get back to you on it once I figure it out.

Ruanita and I are in need of a date night out, as evidence by our inability to even remember our own anniversary. I am not sure what we would do on a date night out, but I am pretty certain that it would be a pleasant experience to eat a meal without constant burping and farting (and the subsequent giggling) at the dinner table. My sons have become nothing more than bags of gas. They will take turns farting, each trying to out-stink the other. Is this merely a male phenomenon? I do not recall my sisters and I sitting around having fart contests as children. I don't remember my girlfriends and I competing with one another for the title of "Loudest Belcher." I am afraid that I am ill-prepared for the amount of gas circulating in my house. And let me tell you...there is no amount of Febreeze available in this world to adequately kill my sons' stench.