"Which one is Dopey?" C interrupts me in the middle of the story.
"That's such a bad name. Today we'd never call him Dopey. He'd be called something like Slowey, or Not Quite As Smart As The Othersey. And Doc? It would so not be cool to make fun of his glasses like that. Happy, well, I guess it's OK to be happy, but what about that poor Grumpy? Maybe he's just a little cheerfully challenged, it's not his fault. And that poor Sneezy. Maybe he just needs a little allergy medication. It's pretty dusty in that tiny house."
"But mommy, which one is Dopey?"
"Oh, sorry. Dopey's that little funny looking one on the end."

Happy weekend everyone. May it be filled with classic joy.

"C. I said no."
"But Mommy, I really, really want Play-Doh."

"C, Come get dressed."
"But Mommy, I really, really want four more minutes in my pajamas."

"C, eat your veggies."
"But Mommy, I really, really want some crackers."
"Eat your veggies. I said no crackers tonight."
"But I really, really want them."
"Yes, I know, but I really, really said no."
"But I really, really..."

50 million times a day it's the same thing. She really, really wants that. She really, really doesn't want to do this. She thinks that it's the perfect counter argument to whatever I'm asking her to do, or not do. Like her desires are more powerful than my warnings or guidance.

I miss the days when she just said "Yes momma." and left it at that. And I'm really, really tired of arguing.

The stuff that's going down at work is enough to make you shake your head and want to rip out your hair all at the same time. It would make amazing blog fodder. I kid you not. The comments would all read "No way." "No she didn't." "Wow. That really sucks." "Didn't you quit already?" and so on and so forth.

BUT, (Yes, of course there's a but. And not just my ever expanding backside, thankyouverymuch.) I'm going to be the bigger person and I'm not going to blog about it.

I'm sorry! I know you're itching to know what's got me so down I can't think of a single funny or cute thing to blog about tonight. But I've spent the last five years being the 'face' of the synagogue; making sure that I always maintain the correct image, and even though I'm leaving I just can't bring myself to break tradition.

Read the rest here: http://roseslife.blogspot.com/2008/06/itching-to-get-dooced.html

Let me ask you a question.

Am I the only 30 something American woman who has never seen a single entire episode of Sex in the City?

Wait. Let me rephrase that. I know there are some people out there who don't even own a TV. Presumably they've never seen the show.

OK.

Am I the only TV addicted 30 something American woman who has never seen a single entire episode of Sex in the City? Because I've never seen it. I swear. I think I've seen 5 minutes here and five minutes there, but nothing more than that.

Brace yourself. What I'm about to say might be shocking to the obsessed masses.

Read the rest here: http://roseslife.blogspot.com/2008/06/im-not-going-to-go-see-it-so-there-stop.html

Tomorrow is the deadline for a contest that I entered a month ago. All I have to do is edit the first 2500 words of my novel and write a 500 word synopsis. Easy enough, right? Yeah, you'd think so. Here's what I have done so far today instead of getting to work.

• wrote my first article for Type A Mom.


• sent a couple emails.


• did a little entrecard jumping. You click from one entrecard ad to the next. It's kind of like Russian roulette; some blogs are awesome, and some are really, really bad.


• checked writing job listings.


• contacted people I had sent resumes to to let them know I was still interested.


• read blogs.


• read blogs.


• read more blogs.


• watched TV.


• took C to her 3 year check-up only to learn that the scheduler made a mistake and we were three months early. (If I hadn't just escaped from scheduler hell I'd be a lot more irritated.)

Read the rest here: http://roseslife.blogspot.com/2008/05/damn-that-procrastination-bug.html