Denim and blush and cerulean and beaver and fern and...

Today was the first day of my oral interpretation class. This is one of those classes where you learn how really communicate with others through literature. Or, more easily said...how to read a book, poem, or dramatic piece with feeling. Should be fun.

Our teacher is great and one thing she did that was fun...and fairly unique...was ask what color we would be if we could be any color and why. I found this challenging and wonderful. Because, really when you think about it. Colors, like words, are very descriptive. And, it was much more fun than "if you were a tree..."

Within our group there were a couple of yellows (hello, Jennifer!), some pinks, and primary colors. Then, there were some that needed to mix it up with one person suggesting he was tye-dye. People were brutally honest about their personalities...from the "I just really like to please people" to the "I am red because sometimes you don't want to mess with me." Alrighty then...moving along.

I'll admit that I jumped right in suggesting that I was a mix of orange and lime green. I consider myself a little off center. I am definitely not a tried and true primary color. But, the more I listened to the others I wish I'd said I was a full box of 120 colors including the "surprise inside." Maybe it goes to my non-committal nature, but isn't it great to think of yourself as capable of any color? No matter how we grew up, what we were taught, who we grew up with, or where we are now in our lives, we are capable of anything. I can be a cheery yellow, girly-girl pink, steamin' mad red, cool blue, anything....it's all up to me.

So, what color are you? Think about it. Having trouble? There are more than 500 color-related quizes available on Facebook. Then, think about what color you want to be...the possibilities are endless.

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For extra color fun, check out the Crayola website where you'll find a color quiz, a color chronography, and other fun color stuff. And, no, I don't work for Crayola.

Ugh, the guilt is heavy

Warning...this post includes frank discussion about bodily waste. Read at your own peril.

So, I admit that today was a pretty painful day. First of all, it was the magic day at summer's end when I look around and realize that all of my plans for the summer were never realized. My house is still an unorganized mess, the doorway from the hall to the upstairs is still just drywall, there are piles of items to go to Goodwill, the roof on the garage still needs to be replaced...aaargh! And, don't get me started on all the camping we were supposed to do, the friends we were going to have over, the bbq we were going to host. Where does it end? I'll just have to bite it and cross off the 2009 at the top of my to-do list and write in 2010. I'm running out of space though since I've already crossed off 2006, 2007, and 2008. Maybe next summer, huh? Yeh, right.

But, really the most painful part of today was realizing that my 7 yr old's recurring "soiled" underwear issue is most likely because I am starting back into school for the year and she knows I won't be seeing her as much. I thought we'd (she'd) overcome this issue and was so relieved. It's one thing changing a baby's dirty diaper...it's a whole other thing cleaning out the underwear of a 7 yr old who's bowels move like an adult...eeeew. I admit we've thrown away more underwear from sheer laziness and disgust. But, over the last 2 weeks the stank has once again settled over the house. Random underwear are found hidden. And, don't forget about those mysterious brown spots on our nice clean laundry because the wee one just dumps her dirties in the laundry basket....oh, yes...that's too sweet. We have been exasperated. Until today, my first day back at school, as I am cleaning out my fourth pair of underwear for the day it all becomes clear...well, a step up from brown.

***Cue the big ding****

By golly we figured it out. But, that just lays on the mom-guilt. Now, I am at fault for all of the bathroom issues. We are frustrated, our daughter is frustrated, and it's all my fault. Ouch. Not only is it my fault, but I have been less than supportive because I'm at the end of my patience. And, quite honestly, I am totally grossed out and tired of our stinky house. But, I digress...

Four nights a week is tough on me, but torture on my kids...and, our underwear budget. Pray for us...or, better yet, come help me do laundry ;-)

Slacker of a Tooth Fairy

Losing a tooth is a major drama in our house. The first couple were easier..."Oh, my. Can I look at that? I just need to touch it to see." A flick of the fingers and ta-da, it's out. The kids got smarter after that..."No, you're going to pull it!" Now, I try to stay as far away from our dramatic loose-toothed children as possible. Just look at them and they start screaming in imaginary pain; as if I am sitting on top of them pulling mercilessly.

What they should be concerned about is the slacking Tooth Fairy that rarely remember to come to our home to pick up the tooth let alone leave some money. After the second forgotten tooth in a row, our daughter finally got smart and wrote a note. It said, "Dear Tooth Fairy: You forgot my tooth. This time you owe me double. Melina." I do feel for the Tooth Fairy. It must be quite a jolt to wake up in the morning knowing that she shirked her duties and now has to finagle sliding coins under the pillow of a stirring child.

So, alas, tonight another tooth has been shed...and lost. Really lost. Somewhere in the backyard. A note has been written in its place and the Tooth Fairy is already worried about holding up her end of the process. Wish me, I mean her, good luck ;-p

And, for those of you interested in Melina's note, it states "dear tooth fairy, I do not have a tooth. Do I still get money? I sure hope so! melina. flip." And, on the other side she includes our address and "have a goodnight!" This one's a keeper.

You know this world is wackadoo when...

they let me have a space in this here "series of tubes" to say whatever comes to my mind. Be afraid...very afraid. My disclaimer is that I'll try not to use any names unless it is to say that you are absolutely my favoritist person ever because you are also wackadoo! Or, unless you are the other kind of wackadoo that irritates me...well, I'll just make reference to you without using your name. But, beware, you will know who you are ;-)

Hopefully, you will feel a bit silly during and after reading my ridiculous thoughts. If not, maybe this isn't the place for you. People take life too seriously...chill out. This is not the place for serious...well, maybe sometimes...Every once in a while I have some serious stuff to say because I'm trying to be an adult and adults are supposed to be serious, right?

I will also take feedback as long as it is constructive. You can tell me I'm dumb (not stupid since we don't use that word in our house) but you have to tell me how I can be less dumb in the future. My elderlies (YMCA seniors) give me constant feedback which is very helpful....and, sometimes just plain mean now that I think about it...love those ladies. More about them later.

See, I'm already rambling...bored, yet?

I'll leave you with a ditty for your mind...the word wackadoo is not official...it's okay to use unofficial words in my blog. If you don't like it you can read someone else's blog. If you look it up in the dictionary you will be offered some superific alternatives like wacko, wacked, Waikato (a river in New Zealand), and Wacaday (1980's British children's tv show). I love words!

Have a good day...and, be good to one another.