Sprite's Keeper

Two! Two! Two Meme's In One!

I got tagged twice. I won't reveal their names since it may implicate me and I haven't worked out my escape plan, so I am fulfilling my portion of the meme madness and giving back to the blogging community. (I don't know exactly what I'm giving back, but my garage needs to be cleaned. I'm sure I'll find something worthy in there.)

You know the rules, you know I'm playing..

Eight things I'm looking forward to:
1. Chicago. It will be interesting to see if some of these "Hottest Mommy Blogger" contenders are actually as hot as their nominators claim.
2. Dinner. I'm actually starving right now and the last night's leftovers are calling to me. Which is weird since I don't remember giving them my cell number..
3. Sprite finishing potty training. We're both stubborn, but science, life, and every commenter says I will win this war. It's just a matter of when. "Hey, Sprite? WHEN!"
4. Renovating our bathroom. (Um, John? Can we renovate the bathroom?)
5. Finally convincing John that having another baby will not kill us financially. It may kill us in other ways, but he's looking at the financial which is where my argument is strongest.
6. Winning the lottery. (Meh, why not?)
7. Labor Day weekend. John and I will celebrate ten years together with a weekend away. (Does it still count as a romantic weekend if the kid joins us?)
8. Another baby. (This is fully dependent on whether or not I can get past Number 5.)

Eight things I did in the last seven days: (It should read "yesterday", but I'm taking liberties)
1. Met Cletus the Fetus!
2. Had an in-depth discussion on which Princess is smartest and could probably kick the other Princesses' butts. With John.
3. Watched a friend get hit on by a flirty flamingo.
4. Talked about how I have a great kid who rarely gives me problems.
5. Watched my kid prove me a liar within seconds of my boasting.
6. Had it hinted to me that my daughter's cough could be the beginning stages of "Swine Flu".
7. Spent $25 co-pay to prove it wasn't "Swine Flu".
8. Put off this meme until I could no longer avoid it.

Eight things I wish I could do:
1. Be on time more often.
2. Find the magic button which shuts off tantrums. (It must be SOMEWHERE.) (I would also make millions!)
3. Get more sleep.
4. The sleep thing should be mentioned again.
5. Okay, once more for good measure.
6. Play the piano. (Always wanted to try, but my fingers are way too drunk.)
7. Speak Spanish. (It would blow my in-laws away.)
8. Abolish all meme's.

Eight shows I watch:
1. Better Off Ted- Seriously, you must give this show a chance. Just this past episode, I heard the phrase "full frontal nerdity". Snark is abundant in this show!
2. Family Guy- What? You watch it too! Don't pretend you don't!
3. 20/20- I've been watching this show since the early 90's. I think I havehave a thing for John Stossel.
4. Grey's Anatomy- I'm really not sure why I'm still watching. The stories are wearing thin, the stars are just too thin, and they killed another child in this last episode. Stop killing kids in shows! My hormones can't take the abuse! (Oh my God, I've just become my mother.)
5. Scrubs- They made a full half hour musical last year and even choreographed a song about poop. I kept that one show saved on my DVR for months until John switched us over to Hi Def and they erased everything in memory. I mourned the loss of that one episode. I still do.
6. Ace Of Cakes- Duff Goldman. He bakes, he's bald, he's Jewish. And his side kick Geoff? I have a thing for geeks. (Right, John?)
7. The Biggest Loser- This show is a big inspiration to me in showing what people can do when they really put their minds and bodies into it. I just have a few recommendations for slight changes. Stop advertising on the show. Seriously, it's tacky. Product placement is one thing, shoving the product down the audience's gullet is just overkill.
8. Private Practice- I know. I took it off my DVR list, but I've still watched. And then this last episode? Oh, how perfect! The wife is pregnant and needs a heart transplant or she and the baby die. The husband is a perfect match and blood type and makes the sad quip "I'd give her my heart if I could". Then he dies of an insulin overdose and of course she gets it! Oh, wait! The other story! A teacher gets treated by one doctor for an STD and then one of the other doctors is treating a kid who is having a reaction to antibiotics given to him by the teacher since they were sleeping together. Now, the story is actually kind of believable. The unbelievable fact is that they were both patients at the same practice. This is L.A., folks! You can't walk a city block without tripping over an M.D.! Are they even checking to see if anyone is watching anymore? Are they just riding the season out to certain cancellation? And yet, I watch!

Eight people I tag: Pffft.

On to the next piece of torture!

Ooh, a question and answer one!

1. What are your current obsessions? The what if's. I always obsess over them. (I'm a lot of fun at parties!) 

2. Which item from your wardrobe do you wear most often? I try to give every piece the same amount of attention, which is none. I wear the same five outfits to work. I have the same weekend outfits (With jeans!) and the same "nice" outfits. My wardrobe could be a contender on What Not To Wear. Luckily though, I'm not enough of a trainwreck for Clinton and Stacey to ever consider me.

3. What's for dinner? Beef? Um, didn't they answer that question a few years ago?

4. Last thing you bought? A munchkin as a trade so I could wipe all the crud out of Sprite's nose without a fight. (Totally worked. I used an M&M last night to get a saline spray into her nostrils.) (I'm not above bribery.) (Anymore.)

5.What are you listening to? Lost. I should be watching it, but then I wouldn't be typing this sentence, would I?

6. If you were a god/goddess, who would you be? Me. I AM a goddess. Of snark. And pretty full of myself too.

7. Favorite vacation spots? Spot? Why so restrictive? How about a patch?

8. Reading right now? "Always Looking U"p by Michael J. Fox. I like his overall message of inspiration, but there's a lot of name dropping which just kicks me right out of the story. Then again, he is a celebrity. He's supposed to name drop, right?

9. Four words to describe yourself? Chill out a little.

10. Guilty pleasure? Getting my nails done every other week. I barely pay attention to my hair, I only buy make up since my inventory expires long before I use a good quarter of it, and my shoe collection is based more on convenience than class. So spending a little on making sure my nails look good? Worth it. Let's not talk about my toes..

11. Who or what makes you laugh until you're weak? Sprite. Seriously! The kid is such a lark and the caffeine boost I need at the end of a long work day. She makes me smile and the verbal blunders at her age are a riot.

12. Favorite thing to do in the summer?  A good sweaty time in the park and an ice cold raspberry lime-ade at Sonic right after to cool off. (Those are the days when calories don't count against you.)

13. Planning to travel to next? Chicago!

14. Best thing you ate or drank lately? My sister's latkes. (I think I'm still working them off though.)

15. When did you last get tipsy? Passover. The wine was abundant, but it only took two glasses to finish me off.

16. Favorite film ever? Gah. Too many to mention. I like the classic's, the comedies, the dramas, the "chick flicks", and even some of the suspense.

17. Care to share some wisdom? Nope. You probably don't want to hear it anyway.

18. Least favorite thing about driving in the Boondocks? In my area, the Boondocks are the county roads to the orange fields. So, my least favorite thing is getting stuck behind people travelling far too slowly, or stuck in front of people who flash their high beams at me when the speed limit isn't up to par for them.

19. Least favorite part of your day? Leaving Sprite at daycare while I go to work. I wish way too often that I could just stay and play with her all day.

Now, I'm supposed to tag some people.. Oh, no! My computer battery is dying! No! I must pass this on! I must keep the meme moving! I need to tag- aaaaahhhh!!!!!

(You're welcome.)

30,000 feet is not an ideal location to face my fears.

John: "Would you like a seat on the wing or aisle?"

Me: "How about in a car? Do they have one of those?"

I haven't been on a plane since 2000. That summer, I went to Hawaii for the second time to see my sister, this last time dragging a willing John with me. By the time we were ready to board the flight over to Honolulu however, I was near hyperventilation.

I remember John staring at me, asking if I would be okay, and in response, I showed him the two sleeping pills I had packed in my purse, to be consumed the moment boarding started.

The flights went well, both to and from, although in my mind, they were far from perfect. The slight turbulence was a sign of imminent danger. An overhead compartment which hadn't been closed properly, sprang open and deposited a large backpack onto a passenger's head. This, to me at least, was an omen of things to come. Nothing happened. I slept fitfully throughout the long flights, and made it back onto solid ground with nary a hair out of place. (Although frizzy hair may look out of place to others, I actually considered it a good hair day.)

Back then, I summed my anxiety up to a fear of heights, something which had only begun plaguing me in my early twenties. My fear extended to balconies, bridges, and any high places where the lobby wasn't within sight. This fear still exists now as I am unable to stand too close to a railing without feeling as if I'm about to pitch forward and takes me a while to get comfortable when I'm positioned anywhere elevated.

Now, this fear of mine doesn't just involve heights, it involves control. I never like to be in any situation where the control is not in my hands. I do not have a "devil may care" personality, nor do I like to "take life by the horns", because the possibility of injury or death scares me too much.

Yes, I am afraid of death. Even the thought of my possible demise scares me. I'm sure there will not be pain, but I don't want there to be "nothing. This is it. Game over. You're done. You've had your turn. There are no do overs, Charlie Brown." This is where religion helps others some, but me and my scientific brain are not easily convinced with hearsay and theory. We like the tried and true money back refund if you're not satisfied, but I don't believe death even has a customer service department, let alone a guarantee. Sure, I can say what I hope will happen when my ticket is up, that I get to keep tabs on those I love, haunt those I don't, and maybe skip back and put a little gloss on those blunders I would rather forget, but you just don't know. My friend Robin and I recently had a conversation about it, and her answer on why she's not afraid of death was "I'd rather be wrong than right" when I questioned her belief in the hereafter. I love her reasoning and would love nothing better than to get on board with it, but my inane desire to be right would probably not be squelched.

So, I decided, way before the economy and terrorism put their two cents in on the matter, that I would never again step onto a plane. It was that simple. When people tried to make plans with us, I would give a noncommittal "maybe" and then point the finger at money, timeliness, or the Northern Lights as to why we would be unable to fly up, down, or over.

John, showing me just how much patience he had, compromised a lot when we made travel plans, sticking to areas like Orlando or St. Augustine so the drive wouldn't kill us. Over the years, he eventually stopped asking if I would ever work up the courage to fly again. 

But then..

Back in the beginning of the year, fellow bloggers decided to join up for a weekend of hedonism in Colorado and I REALLY wanted to go, not only because I admired these women so much from what I had read about them, but also because Colorado just looks beautiful, I had never been, and damn it! I needed a vacation. Away from John and Sprite. So it would remind me of how much I love them... yeah. That's it..

I immediately looked into booking train tickets. I know. Insane. John told me so for months. But now I DO know that it takes 36 hours to get from Fort Myers to Denver. For a weekend getaway. At the rate I was going, my three day weekend was turning into a one week road trip with ample opportunity for pictures (of passing trees) and I was actually okay with that since my logical side had already decided to take a sabbatical, or I'm sure she would have put her two cents in. (I hear she should be back in a few years, although the "for rent" sign where this logic was is a little tacky.)

John finally put his foot down (by way of his mouse and endless Googling on my behalf) and told me I would fly or I just wouldn't go because I was making myself (and him) a little batty.

Well, as the Recession and prices indicated, these plans were canceled, and I was secretly relieved that I wouldn't have to cop out due to my own stupid fears and loudly blamed it on the economy with the rest of the bloggers who had shown interest.

Then another plan came about. While hashing out these possibilities, I found out that Jen from Steenky Bee also had a fear of flying, so we agreed to come out of hiding together. We also agreed we would face our fears together, even if it's on separate flights. (Besides, Jenbo owes me a shirt.) (And after flying all this way, she'll owe me a hug too.)

I am going to get on a plane. It's done. My ticket is booked. John threatened warned me that there is no turning back now. I am going to climb into a metal tube and hope that between take off and landing, the plan doesn't need to make an unscheduled stop. I am going to pick up a prescription for Valium or Merlot, whichever takes the edge off the easiest, so the other passengers aren't eying me for drugs or insanity. And I will do my best to not scream out "We're going to die!" every time we hit an aerial pot hole or some other nonsense. (John thinks that with training, we can turn that go-to "We're going to die!" into an "Oopsie!", kind of like when we replace certain words with "sugar" or "shnikes". I'm sure this will draw looks, but John said these looks will at least not come with restraints.)

Thanks to John finding me a direct flight both ways to limit the amount of times I have to do this, I will arrive in Chicago and arrive back home with only my hair as an indication of my frizzy thoughts. (Somehow, he reasoned that my fear may hamper my quick thinking during layovers and having to get from one gate to another gate forty minutes ago and even the possible "John, can you pick me up? I'm in Tulsa." scenario which would not be pretty. For me. Or Tulsa, I reckon.)

I am giving up control. I am facing my fear(s).

Will I see you there?

RTT- Celebrating the fact that it's not Monday.

I think I might be the only blogger out there not writing a book. I never rule it out, but it's not a priority on my list right now. I think it rests somewhere below learning how to re-wire the entire house to respond to 1 remote control. Sure, I've seen the titles out there by various other blogger turned authors and imagined how it would feel to see my name in print on something tangible, but I have nothing revolutionary or unique to add that will set the world of raising a toddler on its ears and someone paying $12.95 ($21.95 Hardcover) to prove it just doesn't jive with me.

All this news of the Swine Flu (Is it too early to capitalize the swine or would showing respect give me brownie points?) has people worried about runny noses and I'm sure I had a few teachers wiggling eyebrows at me when I dropped my own sniffling toddler off this morning, but what really got me was when I was walking out and had to step around a trio of parents who were discussing this latest pandemic wannabe. "Thank goodness I'm allergic to pork!" was a comment that tripped me as I made my way past. Biting my cheek, I quickly and silently added my own thanks that my Kosher style upbringing had not exposed me to pork since that surely must be the factor for catching this piggy back influenza. Not taking chances, people.

I also figure, if we're going based on wild haired theories, I must not have caught the Avian Flu when that was making the rounds since I just don't like birds. At all. Any animal that can dive bomb you when you're innocently going out to check your mail or walking around with a sandwich just isn't nice. I've felt this way ever since that one seagull pooped on me back in the mid 90's at Universal Studios, so, if birds knew about my hatred, they would leave me alone when spreading their germs since I want nothing to do with them. Thinking back now, that bird may have done me a favor.

Back to reality.. (The above imaginative segment is brought to you by the woman in the daycare parking lot. And the letter U.)

True story: On Sunday, John left to run a quick errand and the following happened. Harry had an upset stomach and tossed his cookies on my bedroom floor. As I grabbed paper towels to clean up that hazard, Blue lost control of her bladder and tinkle-walked all over two dog beds and then under our own bed. As I freaked out over that newest development, Sprite took off running, heeding my warnings not to "step into the pee! For heaven's sake, don't step in the pee!" I grabbed a new dog towel (actually one of our towels, but since John doesn't seem to believe any human towel should be used again once it touches dog urine no matter how many hot spin cycles you put it through, it will henceforth be known as a dog towel) (Um, John? We need more towels.) and proceeded to wipe up Spill Number 2. Finally done with cleaning up the aftermath of 2 bodily messes, I walked into Sprite's room to be faced with Number 3. Or technically Number 2. In an effort to help me (seeing me pulling out my hair over dealing with urine and vomit, she thought I could use a hand), she had pulled the tabs off and was in the process of removing the diaper while squatting on her bed. My shout of "No!" stopped her from going further and me from going over the edge. All of this happened within 5 minutes from start to finish about one hour after my day started. Only, after cleaning up Sprite's contribution to the party, I declared my day over. John walked through the door not even ten minutes after to see me on Sprite's floor holding her shorts with a vacant look in my eyes while she ran around in clean Pampers repeating "Step in the pee! Step in the pee!"

I took a four hour nap on Sunday afternoon. I feel better now.

I think there's a law of parenthood that frowns upon gloating. For instance, if you proclaim that your child is a role model of manners, your little perfectionist will then give you hell to make you eat your words. The same can be said for health. If you announce to all that you've been lucky to escape sickness and can't remember the last time your child was truly sick, expect the sniffles to begin within hours. I did just that on Saturday while enjoying a day out with ny friends over at The Katz Cradle, boasting to Becca about how Sprite is relatively healthy. The next evening, the runny nose showed up. When I picked her up from daycare today, her teacher made a point to detail the exact color of green that Sprite had invented within her sniffer along with the silent hint that it would perhaps be best to keep her at  home tomorrow.

After reading the above, it's so random, it seems to trip over itself. It's probably best that you get yourself over to Keely's hang out at The Un Mom and see how it's supposed to be done.

HASAY: Open Mouth, Insert Food

HASAY: The noisiest weight management group on the Internet. Find out why!

"Crunch. Crunch. Munchmunchmunch.."

"Crunch. Crunch. Munchmunchmunch.."

"Jen, what are you eating over there?"

I stare at my monitor, startled by my manager's words. "Why? Does it sound loud?"

"YES!"

A coworker pops her head up to peer over the cubicle wall. "I was sitting here wondering what you were crunching on."

"Is it really that loud?" My face is red.

"Oh, yeah."

My eyes widen. "And you're telling me this now?"

"Well, we weren't sure what to say about it."

I look down at my bag of Kashi Go Lean Crunch, the majority of my serving still to be consumed, and then back to my coworker and manager, who has now stood up to peer over, his own smile wide with humor.

"I've been bringing this cereal in for weeks and only now you're telling me how loud my eating is." My eyes dart between the two of them who are both on the verge of more giggles.

"Well, as long as you're enjoying it, it's not a problem, We were just wondering what the noise was all about."

"But I hate the sound of people eating cereal, all that wet munching. And now I'm guilty of the same thing!"

My manager laughs. "It's not a big deal! It's just loud."

I close the bag. "Well, I can't eat any more of this now."

Everyone settles back down to work, the clickety-clacking of the keyboards the only sounds heard.

I peek over at the bag, the clusters calling to me. My finger wiggles in between the seam and breaks it, sneaking a smallish piece and popping it quickly into my mouth, slowly chomping down to minimize the noise.

"Crunch."

I can barely hear the chuckles from either side of my cubicle walls. They can hear it.

"I'm still hungry!"

The chuckles grow into laughter.

Sorry, Kashi. It's back to oatmeal at work for me.

STATS:
John: Up 1.
Me: Even. (You would think crunching the Kashi would burn more calories..)

What food makes the most noise for you? Have you or anyone else been banned from eating food at work because of the noise or smell? And what about those people who nuke popcorn and then burn it? Should they be suspended without pay? Important issues, people!

This may not help the defense of High Fructose Corn Syrup..

"Welcome to the Toddler's Tiki Bar. What would you like to drink, Miss?"

 

"I'll try that new tropical punch."

"Miss, it does have High Fructose Corn Syrup."

"So?"

"It may cause excitable behavior and we're not licensed for tantrums."

"Nah, I'll be fine."

 

"Here you go."

"Oh, thank you very much!"

 

"Mmm. Hm."

 

"Wow, Minnie, this is really good. You can't even taste the corn syrup. I don't know what those critics are talking about, I don't feel weird."

 

"Mm. Must keep drinking!"

 

"This is the best juice I've ever had!" *

 

"And the flower straw just makes it so much better!"

 

"La-la-la love it! Woo! I'm ready to play!"

  

"I love you, man!"

 

"Er, Miss? You're hugging a column."

"Wha? No, I'm not! Just bring me another tropical punch!"

"Sorry, Miss. One drink limit."

 

"Noooooooo!"

"Miss, the sign on the door says no tantrums. You'll need to take that elsewhere."

*(Technically, the "juice" only contained about 5% real juice.)

Spin Cycle: My Bad!

Mistakes must be multiple since we're starting the roll up on a Friday morning!

Peggy over at Stir Crazy in the Suburbs -New to the Spin Cycle!

Sammanthia over at My A-Cup Runneth Over 

Melly over at The Life and Times of Fish

Cyndi over at The Adventures of HarryJack -Updated Sunday! (A five-fer!!)

HeatherPride over at Riding the Short Bus -Updated Monday!

Meli over at Meli's Rambling Randomness -Updated Monday!

DeeMarie over at My Life In A Nutshell -Updated Tuesday!

Rikki over at Cowgirls Like Me -Updated Tuesday!

Casey over at Half As Good As You -Updated Wednesday!

Jan over at Jan's Sushi Bar -Updated Wednesday!

Lisleman over at A Few Clowns Short -Updated Wednesday!

Wicked Step Mom over at Wicked Step Mom -Updated Thursday!

Lisa over at Boondock Ramblings -Updated Thursday!

Keep those blusters and bloopers coming in!

Spin Cycle: Say "Peez"....

There's a bully in Sprite's class. This bully is adorable, has a smile that can melt your heart (and your anger) and is known to show affection to everyone. Right before she inflicts the pain.

She's small in stature, but has confidence in spades. She'll steal the crayon/ truck/ ball/ pacifier out of someone else's mouth without warning and is also known to push or shove to get whatever or whomever out of her way.

For anonymity's sake, I'll call her Goose. Goose is an instigator and knows what buttons to push. Her language skills are not quite up there with Sprite's, so I rarely understand her when she's saying something to Sprite or myself, but if there's one word I understand out of her, it's "please". Wait. Rephrase. "Peez." Much better.

I smile every time I hear her say it since it's just too slap-a-Hallmark-sticker-on-her-forehead-and-sell-her-as-a-Precious-Moments-doll cute, but her timing is off. She says it after the fact. A few weeks ago, she marched right over to where we were sitting in the mostly empty classroom and proceeded to steal the sippy cup right out of Sprite's mouth. Milk spurted everywhere once the suction was broken and Sprite spurted in anger.

"My noah!" (I still have no idea why she calls her cup a "noah". And it only refers to her cup. If I point to any cup, she says "cup". If I point to her cup, sippy or otherwise, it's "noah". Anyone? Still perplexed after almost 2 years of hearing it..)

(That just took you right out of the story, didn't it? Here, let me dust you off. Sorry about that.)

"Peez," Goose responded, smiling sweetly before she ran for the opposite side of the room.

Sprite's face crumpled as Goose's father confiscated the property, chastised his daughter, and returned the "noah" to its rightful owner. Goose then moved on, looking for a new victim.

As I said goodbye to a sniffing Sprite, I heard a slam from that area, a child's outraged cry, and an airy "Peeeez!" as she sped away giggling from her latest heist.

She may be a bully, but at least she's polite about it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Cinderella, you go to time out. No, ma'am!"

My ears perked up as I listened to the monitor and eavesdropped on Sprite's imagination. It was past her bedtime, but she was playing quietly in her bed, so I refrained from intruding on her personal time.

"Mermaid, Ariel! You listen! No, ma'am! Go to time out! You bad."

No ma'am? She must have picked that phrase up in daycare. I know she's not getting it at home. (My "no"s usually come by way of "No thank you".)

I wondered what the Mermaid could have possibly done to deserve punishment, although she's been hanging out near the dogs lately, so that could be the reason. I laid my book aside and concentrated on the red lights, intent on hearing the story play out.

"Mermaid, say sorry. Is Sleeping Doody crown."

Static sounded as she shifted around in the bed.

"Sleeping Doody, good night. Sleep tight. Mermaid sorry."

Aah, I got it. Mermaid stole Beauty's crown. What a hussy.

"Is okay. Stop cwying. You okay. Give Mommy kiss. *Mwah!* Thank you very much."

"Mermaid. Not nice!"

NOW what did she do? I snickered as I heard more rustling.

"You stay time out! Two minute!" Now, I laughed. She was copying my words almost verbatim.

The sound died down as she sang to Sleeping Beauty and then lowered to nothing over the next ten minutes. I picked my book up and got lost in a more adult world for a while.

Later, I made my rounds and stopped by Sprite's room to turn off her nightlight. Opening the door, I encountered an obstacle. When I looked down, I saw that Cinderella and the Mermaid had been knocked askew from where Sprite had placed them in time out.

Poor dolls didn't even get a chance to apologize for their crimes, I mused as I placed them out of door's way.

I tucked in the "teacher" and closed the door, whispering a thank you of my own that she was finally asleep and we had made it through another day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Can I just say a big thank you to everyone who played along this week?

THANK YOU!!!!

Ferd over at The Best Parts -THANK YOU!

Kirst over at My Life for The World To See -THANK YOU! (Celeb AND Manners!)

Libby over at Libby Logic -THANK YOU!

Lisleman over at A Few Clowns Short -THANK YOU!

Gigi over at Incrementum -THANK YOU!

Midlife Mama over at Midlife Musings -THANK YOU!

HeatherPride over at Riding The Short Bus -THANK YOU!

Christopher over at Ca-Joh -THANK YOU!

Sandie over at Sandie Simply Says -THANK YOU!

Jae over at Stinky Angels -THANK YOU! New to the Spin Cycle!

Jan over at Jan's Sushi Bar -THANK YOU!

Ginger over at When Ginger Snaps... -THANK YOU!

Arwen over at Spors in the Desert -THANK YOU!

Camille over at Archives of Our Lives -THANK YOU!

Mrs. Bear over at Outnumbered Two To One -THANK YOU!

Mama Badger over at Out of the Boondocks and into the burbs... -THANK YOU!

DeeMarie over at My Life In A Nutshell -THANK YOU!

Joanie over at Joanie's Random Ramblings -THANK YOU!

Wicked Step Mom over at Life and Times of a Wicked Step Mom -THANK YOU!

Jen over at Coconut Belly -THANK YOU!

Rachel over at The Ramblings of Rachel -THANK YOU!

Rikki over at Cowgirls Like Me -THANK YOU!

Lisa over at Boondock Ramblings -THANK YOU!

Stacy over at Stacy's Random Thoughts -Updated today! Fresh Spin! THANK YOU!

Maureen over at A Chronicle of My World Travels -Updated today! Fresh Spin! THANK YOU!

Casey over at Half As Good As You -Updated today! Fresh Spin! THANK YOU!

Jim Styro over at Speaking in CAPS -New to the Spin Cycle! Updated today! Fresh Spin! THANK YOU!

Laufa over at Morgan Madness -Updated today! Fresh Spin! THANK YOU!

Pseudo over at Pseudonymous High School Teacher -Updated today! Fresh Spin! THANK YOU!

Krystal over at Mommy's Escape 6.0 -Updated today! Fresh Spin! THANK YOU!

Shangrila over at My Bella Figlia -Updated today! Fresh Spin! THANK YOU!

Please stop by and greet the new Spinners and don't forget the veterans! Ignorance is not bliss and it's just plain rude.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next week's Assignment: Mistakes.

Mistakes. I've made a few. Or they could have been regrets. But do we regret our mistakes or do we learn from them?

What mistakes have you made that you've learned from? Did you watch someone else make a mistake and use it as a positive in your own life?

Did you once mistakenly add salt instead of sugar to your cake mix? Maybe sent a surprise party email to the guest of honor? Or how about accidentally dumping an entire bag of fertilizer on a square foot of lawn?

Did you bring your two year old to a party full of early twenty-somethings and then try to act like you fit in?

Did you do an oopsie and fudge a budget proposal which resulted in about 30 people thinking they were getting big bonuses when actually they were getting teeny tiny ones? And then made the mistake of not telling those people as they rushed out of the conference room to call their significant others and give them the exciting albeit false news about their financial and false windfall? And did you make the mistake of trying to laugh it off when you finally revealed the truth? Yeah, hurt like a band-aid, right? But you learned from it. (And maybe suffered a bit..)

Let's talk about mistakes, serious or funny.

Remember, the Spins are due by May 1st! (Seriously? May? That must be wrong!)

See you next week on the Spin Cycle, make no mistake about that!

It's like watching "The Hills", only you can't turn the channel... Scary, right?

When did the twenties become the new teens?

We drove two hours to help John's cousin celebrate her 22nd birthday and all I can say is "big mistake".

Number of times OMG was said within 4 hours: 20. (Honestly, I stopped counting after twenty.) (And they really did say 'OMG", not "Oh my God". When did verbal communication break down to acronyms? I H8 it!)

I saw three fights, 3 break ups, 4 make-ups (either I missed a fight and only saw the mending portion of the show or this afternoon may have finally transcended that weird bend of reality where East is West, nothing is everything, and Zac Efron is King.) (Hold me!), and everyone and their cell phones being tossed into the pool.

As this was to be a family/friends party, John and I made the plans thinking some other relatives would also be joining in the merriment, help us keep Sprite away from the (older? younger? do they even have jobs yet?) crowd and the pool, and keep us sane in a surround sound situation of "She is such a bitch.." and "I can't hear you. Just text me!". Yes, I swear the second phrase actually happened. They were sitting next to the stereo which was belting out a Bon Jovi song (circa 1980's before some of these kids were even planned) (or accidental.. I'm not judging.) and didn't consider that they could either a. turn the volume on the stereo down or b. MOVE to another location where they could then carry on with their communicae. I had to laugh as one of them immediately pulled her IPhone out and her fingers started flying across the screen.

Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted by my own tangent, none of John's family showed up as they were otherwise detained, so while we got to see his cousin, aunt, and uncle, there were some uncomfortable gaps in time where we definitely felt out of our element.

So, I focused on the party and the partiers, which could have been a scene right out of "The Hills", Benz's and all. There were the popular girls, the rowdy boys, the Johnny Depp wannabe in a fedora...yeah.

I watched how the mixed crowd of co-eds worked on getting themselves good and confident with drinking games and sheer bravado as they took turns chugging very watered down tequila cocktails and beers. Phrases like "Liquor before beer, never fear!" and "Beer before liquor, never sicker!" got tossed around like it was brand new just out of the box logic. EVERYONE smoked. Everyone congregated into groups where the sidelong glances toward a person of interest in another group began. (I felt so transported, I would not have been surprised if my ninth grade health teacher walked through the door holding bean dip.)

Then, the boys got adventurous. Girls were starting to lose the sarongs and expose their bathing suits, but oddly had to go into the restroom to do so as they would pull the cover up over their heads. They just disappeared into the powder room and reappeared sans sarong seconds later like it was some sort of reveal. Now, that people were beginning to dress down, the male portion of our study began stalking some of the girls. A few were grabbed and tossed into the pool where they came up sputtering curse words at the offensive hulk who had taken advantage. One girl lost her cool completely. Or did she?

Here's what I remember. Let's call our guests 1 and 2. 2 proclaimed for all that even though she was dressed in a bikini and looked ready to go into the pool, she would not take that dip and would spend the afternoon dry. 1, who thought it would be funny, "allegedly" dared a guy, um, A, to dump a cup of water on 2. A then dumped the water on 2. 2 then decided to lay the blame on 1 (again, this was 1's idea, allegedly) and stomped over to a table, grabbed her things, tossed accusations peppered in curse words, and made her way for the exit. A few other girls ran after 2.

1, who had denied any wrongdoing, melded back into the crowd until someone of the male species, er, I think he's B, because I don't think A was involved anymore, I don't know why, he just wasn't, OKAY, so B grabbed 1 and retaliated against her "alleged" attack on 2, and shoved 1 into the pool, phone and all.

She surfaced, dropping repeated F bombs at the top of her lungs as the crowd gathered around the water's edge. John and I, who were seated with Sprite on the patio, watched as she continued her chlorine tinged tirade while treading water. Sprite, who was sitting on John's shoulders, was especially interested in this strange yet interesting "Wow, she's really using her outdoor voice" show.

Finally, John spoke up. "Do you mind?" he piped up to the source of the rant, who had not thought to start exiting the pool, "there's a 2 year old here! Can you watch the language?"

"No, no, no, you don't-" she sputtered from the middle of the pool. It finally struck me that she hadn't left her position because she wouldn't be seen as well once she was back amongst the dry.

"No, no nothing. Just watch it, okay?" John continued staring at her in stony silence as the picture of innocence sat atop his shoulders looking like she hadn't said "Oh, shit!" just weeks earlier.

"You don't understand," she kept saying.

"I don't need to. There's a two year old here!" John shouted. "Just watch what you say!"

She then dropped her argument and swam to shore, glaring daggers at John, who was looking very sexy to me right then.

It didn't take us much longer after that to realize that we just didn't belong there. Family is one thing, but this party was meant for the younger set. My biggest problem though was that I didn't remember John or myself being so YOUNG when we were that age. The group's antics (boys showing off in front of the girls, making girls cry, throwing girls in the pool) (and let's not forget the girls showcasing their 'ass'ets, disappearing in groups of five to the bathroom, and making each other cry) seemed more destined for High School Musical than real life. It almost felt like they still believed the world revolved completely around them and a choreographed song and dance scene would solve all of life's problems. (Which is how Kenny Ortega made his fortune by the way..)

John and I, after realizing there was nothing more we could do to make things more kid friendly for Sprite, made our excuses and left back to our world of Elmo, Disney, and simple problem solving.

I only hope Sprite doesn't continue this behavior from her teens into her twenties or I'll ground her into her thirties.

What? I can do that, right?

So now? Yes? I give away? Yes?

(Editor's Note: If you're skipping down to the comments to enter now, you should still come back and see the post. There is some funny finger pointing in here! At least, I think it's funny. You may find it amusing. Slightly humorous? ...Do you really care as long as you get your name in the game?)

So, looking into my earlier promise of scratch off tickets, someone (me) failed to notice (Google and find out before posting her stupidity for the World Wide Web to see) that lottery tickets and scratch-offs are sold individually by state. (Can you see that I don't play much?)

That could be a head scratcher if you're not in Florida, yes?

What to do? No?

Turns out you CAN mail in your scratched ticket if you live out of state to claim whatever prize you win, as long as it's under $5,000.00. (And frankly, if it's over 5k, we have some proprietary ownership issues we'll need to discuss..)

So, now that I've been relieved of my earlier stresses and what not's:

Here we go!

Like I mentioned in the last teaser, I am giving away 10 (ten) lottery scratch off tickets to the first ten commenters.

Here's the deal:

1. Make a comment.

2. Make sure your email is listed in the validation area so I can call upon you for your address.

3. The first ten commenters automatically win. AND YOU CAN ONLY COMMENT ONCE! Cheaters will be hung by their morals.

4. I will then send you a scratch off ticket.

That's it? Well, yeah. What'd you expect? Fanfare? A parade? Elephants assembling into pyramids?

Sure, it doesn't seem like much of a prize and you'll probably be thinking, "That Sprite's Keeper chick? She has SOME nerve to be thinking a measly scratch off is a great prize."

Of course, if you win something, you'll probably be thinking, "Despite some frizzy hair issues, Sprite's Keeper is actually one nice lady!"

And then there's the fact that you'll be getting mail. That is not a bill! From me! With hope inside it!

That's something, right?

Remember, limit is 10.... and go!

This is because I didn't read the fine print.

So, apparently, I don't pay enough attention.

Sher over at It's Sherindipity flashed new on my reader so clicking over, I saw that she was giving away maple syrup to the first five readers. My mind immediately shut off and I raced down to the comments section and entered my name because, hello? Maple syrup? And the good stuff too? Score!

Looking back now, I have realized my first mistake in that, hello? On a diet here? Sorry, HASAY. My second mistake is that I didn't read the fine print (which was actually the same size as the rest of the print. I'm calling it the fine print because no one ever reads the fine print and somehow act all shocked when the big bad companies they sign on with show up for that arm and a leg the signer unknowingly promised, yet only show a passing interest in the first born. I wonder why that is.) which said that those who receive a prize must pass a prize forward to five people.

Oh, crap. I have to do a give away?

Wait! It gets better! I then traveled over to Michele's site, It's a Dog's Life and saw what she was giving away spices! However, this time, I slowed down and actually read everything. And then proceeded to leave a comment (again, in the top five because I must fail with flair, I guess) about how I didn't realize this was a pay it forward prize pyramid and that John was going to kill me. (You know, kill me in the "What the hell were you thinking?" variety, not "Hm, I wonder what's happened to Sprite's Keeper. She hasn't posted in weeks. Talk about slacking..") Michele, in her infinite wisdom, commented back not to say anything to John.

Michele is a little wicked. Probably a little drunk too. I fear respect her highly.

So, now I'm up two and down ten. That's right. I have to give away ten prizes. From what I understand, they should be of the crafty variety.

Well, both Sher's and Michele's give aways are food related, however if I were to send out something food related, I might be responsible for food related deaths mostly due to my less than stellar cooking skills and then this might turn into a different kind of "going to kill me" scenario.

You: "Sprite's Keeper is going to kill me."
Friend: "How could she kill you? She doesn't even live in your state."
You: "I was comment number 5 in her give away. She's sending cupcakes. I've got days left. Will you look after my plant?"

Memo to self: Must not drink coffee in the afternoon. I'm leaving the above tangent in as a lesson to myself. And if you happen to learn from it too, bonus.

All right, now to the give away.

I can't afford much. I can't afford anything, honestly. I have a trip to Busch Gardens this weekend with the Katz Cradle that we've been saving for and I have to keep this on the down-low because Michele said to do it and I do everything she tells me, although I still think she owes me a painting since my repeated pleas for one of her paintings resulted in a painting give away that I didn't even win!!!! and I'm still a little bitter about that, but where was I? Oh yes you know, with the economy and all, I have to be REALLY crafty with this give away.

I'm going to give away scratch off cards.

That's right! If you are within the first 10 comments, you will get a scratch off card that I will personally mail to you! I may even lick the stamp! And I promise not to scratch it before I send it. How's THAT for a gaurantee?

Sure, it may be a dud, or it may be a winner, but are you willing to take the chance? The no obligation chance?

That's right, I'm ending the schemes here. You DO NOT have to pay it forward. If you want to, it's your funeral blog, but I'm not requiring it here.

Whaddya mean it's not crafty? Of course it is! Think of your coin as a crayon and the ticket as the paper. Then proceed to scribble and design the hell out of it until you find out if you've won. Done.

I should put in here that you must be over 18 to enter your comment, and I'm not even sure I'm allowed to do this, but if I've already bought the tickets, they're mine to do with as I please, right?

So, I please to give away lotto tickets!

Just not right now.

He he, here's where I get sneaky and you get the fine print. I will post at some point today and open those comments for the give away. By commenting on this post, you ARE NOT entering the give away. Just keep an eye on your browser and if you have Google Reader, you're really rolling the dice since Google Reader and I have still not made up yet.

Those of you who jumped right to the comments are probably pretty upset right now, huh?

Yeah, I jump to the comments too. (I'm also really good at conclusions..)