This does not make me want to shop at your store:

"...when you walk in, literally sensory overload!!"

YOU DON'T KNOW ME, IPHONE

My iPhone has been effing with me big time lately, and I KNOW it's on purpose.

Every time I type "if," it changes it to "of."  When I want to say "of," it changes it to "if."

"But Shan, the I and O are neighbors.  I'm sure you are just typing it wrong."

NO I AM NOT.  I watch it change EVERY TIME.  I KNOW it knows what I want to say.  This phone has literally saved my life so many times...I KNOW it's smart enough to determine that I'm not trying to say "Hey, let me know of you're thinking about coming by," or "If course I miss you!"

T-H-E keeps getting changed to T-E.

Dear iPhone,
I promise you, you son of a bitch, I will never be texting about the chemical tellurium (especially not by just using it's periodic symbol), "tea" in Spanish, or TECO Energy Inc. on the stock market.  JUST ASSUME IT'S T-H-E.  You're so good at assuming that "Mrkinfe" is actually "Melinda."  How can you not get it right with THE???

I want to say THAT, but keep saying GHAT.

I know ghat is a word, but maybe let's look to a little context and assume I won't use it regularly.  Here's a simple rubric to help determine if the user is more likely to say "ghat" than "that":
1.  Does the user live in Southern Asia?
2.  Does the user live hear a holy river?
3.  Does the user often refer to large bodies of water, and steps that lead to it?
4.  Do you think the user wishes she had an easier way to talk about all of that? 

(sidenote--I believe, with all my heart, that the iPhone can reason in this manner.  I mean, have you even used one?!  They can tell you where you parked, and how to get there, and where along the way you should eat.  They know.)

If yes to 1-4, then stick with "ghat."  If no, let's go with "that."

That's all for now...but never all for ever, because I'm always annoyed by things like this and never annoyed by things like world hunger, etc.

Favorite combo word of the week

"Oh man, I made the worst mistake with several rocks of cocaine earlier...total crackcident."

No need to non-shorten it

So many people who I love say this, so if that's you, it's cool.  This is just one of those things that I don't like but everyone else does like, so you keep saying it...I'm not even mad. 

THE ONLY REASONS I IMAGINE PEOPLE SAY HUBBY INSTEAD OF HUSBAND:
1.  They think it's easier to say.
2.  It's less formal.
3.  They want to be more original (moriginal) than other people.
4.  Because they want to rhyme it with something.
5.  It's shorter to type out than husband.

REASONS WHY THE ONLY REASONS I IMAGINE PEOPLE SAY HUBBY INSTEAD OF HUSBAND DON'T MAKE ANY SENSE:
1.  It's not easier to say.  They have the same number of syllables. For real.  Just tap it out.
2.  Yeah, it definitely is less formal...but are you SURE that's a good thing?  Slobster (yeah, you're welcome) is also less formal, and conjures up a lot of the same images in my mind that "hubby" does. 

"Hey, I'm Gina, and this is my slobster, Tadd."  See?  You do not want to say shiz like that.

3.  Let me just be the one to let everyone know that it is not more original than husband.   

I'm so sorry you guys.

4.  Yes, I do see that it's easier to "hubby" than it is to rhyme "husband," but again, people, why are we worried about rhyming things?  No one's husband wants (like really, really WANTS, not like "sure babe, I want that, definitely) a rhyming nickname.  Hubby Bubby...shiz you guys, I can't even go on with this.  Just tell me that's no one's reason.
5.  Yeah, I'll give you the shorter to type out thing too, but rrrreally...can that be our deciding factor?  Why not just go with Hsbnd, or Hus-b, or John (no matter his name, go with John.  It's fine.)?  Why make a completely new word? 

Hold on...where the hell did this even come from??  How did Huzzy not make the cut, or Huzby?   I prefer both of those.  You know you do.  You KNOW you do!!!

Anyway, like 1000 things are easier to type, so that isn't a good enough reason.  DFiHig4 was just easier to type than "husband," so go with that. 

Per uuuuuush (I know that sounds like "per ush-as-in-usher", but I mean it as "per-ush-as-in-usual"...I just don't know how to type that other than adding a bunch of u's.), this topic is completely unimportant.  Just thought of it, you know? 

My life is a series of "So this just popped into my head..." 

Something else posted just so I can Pin it...

So uhhhparently, you can't Pin from Facebook.  That's cool.  I'll put it here. 

THESE RINGS ARE AMAZING.  I want to sparkle all the time.  Now I can.

Go here to order...and you can freaking request your own colors/settings/whatever.  True love.

http://www.facebook.com/pages/Hollywood-Lacquer/414707141884271

Stolen recipe that I hope will fulfill my wildest dreams

This recipe is borrowed from THE New York Times.  I figure if they have all those "Share here, post here" links, they wouldn't mind.  I just wanted it to be posted somewhere so I wouldn't have to leave the window open anymore, and there aren't any photos on the NYT page, so I couldn't Pin it.

DISCLAIMER:  I haven't made this yet.  It just looks easy enough (i'm so into overly detailed recipes.  I'm not a good cook, and will legitimately be that girl who wonders "Oh shiz....are they supposed to be bobbing to the surface?!), and I effing love gnocchi.  And it's green, which I'm pretty sure makes it healthy.  Quote me...I don't curr. 

ONE MORE DISCLAIMER:  This photo is NOT from this recipe.  I just added a Google image of gnocchi....uhhhsoicouldpinit!

Green Gnocchi With Peas and Fresh Sage Butter

TOTAL TIME

About 30 minutes plus time for cooking potatoes

Ingredients

• 1 1/4 pounds floury potatoes, preferably Yukon Gold or small Russets
• 1 cup regular all-purpose flour (or Italian 00-type flour, or fine semolina flour), plus more for dusting
• 1/2 cup chopped parsley, plus 2 tablespoons for garnish
• 1 ounce grated pecorino Romano
• 1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
• 1/8 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 2 cups small English peas (from about 2 pounds in the pod)
• 6 tablespoons unsalted butter
• 2 or 3 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
• 16 to 24 fresh sage leaves
• Salt and pepper, to taste
• 3 or 4 scallions thinly sliced, for garnish
• Parmesan cheese, for grating.

Preparation

1.

Bake the potatoes in their skins until tender when probed with a paring knife, about 40 minutes. (Potatoes may also be boiled in their skins, then removed from the pot and slashed to release steam.) Peel the potatoes while still warm, discard the peels and weigh the flesh; you want exactly 1 pound. Force the potatoes through a ricer, food mill or medium-meshed sieve into a mixing bowl.

2.

Add 3/4 cup flour, 1/2 cup parsley, pecorino, nutmeg, pepper and salt. Mix with fingers to form a mass, then knead very briefly to make a smooth ball, just one minute or so. Be careful not to overwork the dough or the gnocchi will be tough. Make a couple of preliminary half-inch ovals and boil in well-salted water to check the texture. Let them bob to the surface and cook for about 1 minute. If they hold their shape, proceed to the next step, otherwise add a little more flour to the dough. It may require a full cup of flour.

3.

Divide the dough into 4 pieces. On a clean counter or cutting board, roll the dough pieces into footlong logs, approximately 1 inch thick, dusting with additional flour as necessary. Cut each log into 18 to 20 gnocchi. If desired, roll each of the gnocchi over the tines of a fork to make the traditional ridged oval shape (otherwise, random small pillow shapes are fine).

4.

Sprinkle a baking sheet liberally with flour and line up the gnocchi in one layer, making sure they don't touch. Now sprinkle flour lightly over the top of the gnocchi and leave at room temperature, uncovered, until ready to cook. Fill a large, wide pasta pot with water. Add salt liberally and bring to a rapid boil.

5.

Put 2 cups of water in a small saucepan for cooking the peas and bring to a brisk simmer. Cook the peas briefly until just done, then drain. Melt the butter in a wide deep skillet over medium heat. Add the garlic and sage leaves and let them sizzle without browning, then turn off the heat.

6.

Add the gnocchi one by one to the boiling water. Carefully stir as the gnocchi begin to bob to the surface. You may do this in batches if your burner is not strong enough to maintain a rapid simmer. Cook for 60 to 90 seconds, until tender (semolina gnocchi will take about 2 minutes), then transfer cooked gnocchi to the butter sauce using a wide skimmer.

7.

Add the cooked peas and a little salt and pepper and gently toss everything together with a large spoon. Pour into a warm low-sided ovenproof serving vessel. If desired, sprinkle with 2 tablespoons Parmesan and run under the broiler till lightly browned. Garnish with the chopped parsley and scallions. Serve with plenty of grated Parmesan, and spoon some of the sage butter over each portion. Pass the pepper mill.

YIELD

6 appetizer-size servings or 4 main-course servings; approximately 80 gnocchi.

My kids will not be attending a kindergarten graduation

Clearly this assumes something HUGE about me and kids in the first place, because as you may or may not know, the thought of actually birthing a baby is...not something I get excited about (you're welcome for that edit)...but if that day comes, or if I snatch up someone else's baby pre-kindy,  my kids will not be attending a kindergarten graduation.

That was a little too long for the title, but that's what I mean.

Here's the situation.  There are going to be a lot of things I need to say to set this up, but I promise that at the end, it will come together.   

-As far as I can tell, they started having kindergarten graduations around the time that the last few incoming classes of college freshmen were in kindergarten, because it's recently that I've started seeing photos of tiny kids in their graduation caps and gowns as a part of their applications to college (different post). 

-These last few years of applicants have been the most entitled students ever.  Giant disclaimer--certainly not all of them.  I have worked with some true gems every year.  But in general, many students I meet at college fairs, take calls from, etc. have a bit of a heightened sense of "I am the best, and everything I do is a huge accomplishment, you're welcome."

-Kindergarten isn't hard

-Basically everyone, ever, finishes kindergarten.

-Parents already spend a GOOD amount of time telling their kids they can do ANYTHINGTHEYWANTEVERANDTHATTHEYARETHEBESTATEVERYTHINGEVER!

I think you see where I'm going.

Kudos to kids for finishing kindergarten, really.  I'll take mine out to Pizza Hut buffet and we'll have Cinnastix (is that still how kids like to celebrate?). 

But having a ceremony tantamount to high school or college graduation??  It just cheapens the actual accomplishments of finishing 13 years of education, or getting a degree...and makes kids think they've actually wrapped something up.  Sorry kids--prepare to be disappointed.  You have finished the best/easiest part of your education, and it will never be as fun as that sand table you got to play with from 2:15 to 3:20.  From that ceremony through the next 12 years, no one will care at all that you finished a year of school.  You may get a Word document certificate, but that's only if your teacher has recently attended a seminar that encouraged him/her to "be a beacon of support in the lives of your students."

Just tell your kid "Nice work on wrapping the school  year up.  Get ready for more of this until you get your PhD.  Let's go get some Cinnastix."

Final disclaimer--I don't have kids, so I'm pretty sure that I have no idea what I'm talking about.  If this seems overly callous, just assume that I'll flip flop if I ever have kids.

 

These high school grads are so pissed to be in the same photo as these kids. I get it, you guys.  You worked a lot harder, and just having a pink sash to differentiate is bs.

Reasons I think I can do anything

1.  I scooted to work today in a freaking pencil skirt.
2.  We have this jar opener at home that will literally open ANY JAR.
3.  Things just usually work out.

I CAN DO ANYTHING.

I didn't think I would love The Avengers...

...but I did.  See that shiz!  It's good, even for people like me who definitely don't understand comic books.

NOTE FOR WHEN I DIE

I'm assuming this blog will be the longest living thing about me for these reasons:
--the internet is forever (if it can survive that tsunami a while back, it's set)
--there aren't a lot of other people with my name being born (I Google it all the time)
--the OTHER thing I want to be remembered about me for a long time, bringing snacks to our weekly staff meetings, has a solid end date when humanity stops eating meals and we all revert to eating super vita-filled meal pills (note: if I am not already dead at this point, I will be soon after the pill thing happens.  Don't judge.)

So obviously, this blog will be the longest living thing about me.  That's why I need this blog to know the following things:

Hey Blog,

If you're reading this after I died, I've died.  I need you to be sure the decision makers in my life (likely still Cousin) know some things.  I'll say three things, but it might end up being more, and you (you of all people, Blog) KNOW I'm not going to come back up here to edit this.

1.  I want to be cremated.  I've given this like 11 seconds of thought, because it didn't need any more thought because I am POSITIVE about this.  If there is ever any question about the circumstances surrounding my death, I want everyone to be left wanting just a little more.  Who was it that said "Always leave them wanting more."?  Marie Antoinette, I think.  Anyway, once those questions arise, I want there to be absolutely no body to exhume.  Burn me up, and scatter my ashes at the first place you go after you pick them up.  I have no preference, because other than Victorville, I kind of like everywhere for one reason or another.
"But what about El Centro?"
I know...but I even kind of like it there, because I always think "I'm 1/4 of the way to Phoenix already!!!" or "I'm 3/4 of the way home from Phoenix already!!" when I'm there.

2.  I want ALL of my journals cremated with me, unread.  I've kept them since I was in 3rd grade, have saved them all, and let's be honest, if they were read by anyone but me, I would no longer be remembered for this blog.  In all the worst ways.  Just burn them.  My friend LeAnn has strict instructions to make this this happens.  I swear to everything, if anyone reads them, if there's a chance that my spirit can come back, even if it means giving up on eternal Taco Bell served at the Cosmopolitan of Las Vegas's Wicked Spoon with thousands of bite-and-pee-less puppies (heaven), I will come back and make your life the worst.  Every time you try to "get intimate,"  I'll be there singing Muppets songs.  You will HATE it.  And I know ALL of the Muppets songs, in all the voices, and don't get tired of them. 
"But what about me?  I can read them, right?"
No.  No.  No.  Unless you are no one ever, ever, you can't read them. 

3.  Here's who my stuff goes to.  I might change this later, but I found this in an iPhone note on my phone titled "Last will and testament" that I (apparently) wrote one night.  I don't remember this, but it was pretty good, so I want to make it more perma here.
-LeAnn W gets all my journals on the condition that they're burned immediately, unread (consistent even when I don't know what's going on!)
-My brother and sister in law get all of my cash money (not much...maybe more when I kick it...unless I never mature [possible]) and computer (sell it)
-My parents get all my insurance money (sorry about the student loans)
-Cousin gets all of my music and furniture (because forcing her to sell one half of the couch, two kitchen table chairs, etc. is redic), and my car (if I actually own it at that point)
-Aiko gets all of my clothes (because giving them to her makes me feel like I'm not giving them away at all, because they're still in the family)
-Ashley gets all of the baby clothes you'll find in my closet (because I have been stocking up for my nephew to an embarrassing extent)
-Andra gets my nail polishes (because I know she'll use them)
-Darrin gets the chair (this was in the note, so I wanted to keep it real here, but I do not know to what this is referring)
-Melinda gets my jewelry (just in case I ever get real jewelry, because I know she will take the best care of it, ever)
-Catharine gets all of my shoes (I think they'll fit, but if they don't, she'll know who to share with)

I think that about covers it, Blog.  Thanks for keeping this safe.

In depth movie reviews: Second edition

DO NOT SEE ONE MORE MOVIE UNTIL YOU SEE TINTIN.  I WILL BE SO MAD IF YOU DO!

Signs We May Not Be Friends

Listen, I'm not saying we WON'T be. There are always extenuating circumstances that I'll take into account ("But I HAVE to love Chili's because my father is a Chili's!")

Your favorite restaurant is Chili's
CHILI'S IS NOT GOOD. Chili's is only acceptable for Happy Hour in a town with no other options, and that includes 7-11, where you could spend less money to get a Chicken Tornado and still feel equally as sick after. Also, no screaming kids, no one trying to up-sell you pre-made guacamole (which is gross and almost assuredly includes mayonnaise), none of those gross plastic mugs that have other people's teeth marks in them. I NEVER want to meet you at Chili's. Please.  Let's go to 7-11.

You spell "fridge" "f-r-i-g"
I do not care that it's not spelled "re-fridge-erator"...fridge is still spelled "fridge." Why? Because it's a nickname for something, and that means we get to make up the spelling so we can ensure it sounds right. That's why thousands of Nicholas's are NicKs and Katherine's are KatEs.  No one wants to be called Nich-rhymes-with-bitch or  Kat-pronounced-like-cat (unless they go by Kat-pronounced-like-cat...then it's different and fine).  If you insist that we clean out the "frig," I'm going to ask you what a frig-rhymes-with-brig is, because that's how you say it. 


You're that girl who waits until the lane actually ends to merge
Stop this.  I am not going to let you over.  The giant white arrows and LANE ENDING, MERGE LEFT signs were clear indicators that you needed to get out of the lane you're in.  Waiting until the lane is actually over in hopes to beat other drivers is ridiculous, unless you're a five year old driver, at which point, it makes total sense.  Five year-olds cut in line.  Thirty year-olds don't.  And if you decide that your business is so much more important than everyone else on the road's that you HAVE to cut in front of all of us, I'm not not only not going to let you in, I'm going to stare at you over my sunglasses with an exaggerated look of incredulity, to make a point.  Five year-olds do things to make points, and thirty year-olds do things to make points, and I support all of us.  


You think you duh-zzeerrvvee it
We've been over this.  I don't care how cool/great/smart you are...you don't duh-zzzerrvee outrageous things.  Paying college tuition doesn't mean you duh-zzzerrvee to take as much food as you want from the caf. Filing your admissions application on time doesn't mean you duh-zzzerrvee a fee waiver.  Working really hard and caring about things doesn't mean you duh-zzzerrvee our highest scholarship.  You get to eat for cheaper than every other college in town, you will hear back from us on time, and you got admitted.  Congratulations on those things.  They're all what you actually duh-zzzerrvee.  If I ever have kids, I'm never telling them they can do aaaaaanything, because they can't.  It's not even bad news...it's real life...and the opposite turns your kid into an entitled a-hole.  Be an astronaut?  Absolutely.  Have people give you free college because you "work harder than a lot of students" and "care about the ocean?"  No.  You cannot accomplish that. 
That may be too much.  I'll rethink it later.  

You say "Alls"
STOP THIS FOREVER.  Stop this forever.  I currently have no friends who say "alls."  That's telling.  You can't make a word that's inherently plural plural.

You love country music in a really serious way that leads you to believe that it's better quality music than _______.
This is the one I'm most willing to compromise on, but if you start our friendship letting me know that you just love Rascal Flatts so much and they're just so much  more talented than _______ and you just can't understand why she's more popular than they are, it's gonna be an uphill battle.  They're not good.  I cannot be the first person to tell you that.  It's science.  It's ok if you like them, but you cannot convince me they're better quality musicians than _________.  They aren't.  I don't care if they write their own music...so does William Hung (weird but true). 

Alright, that's all for now.  I just needed to get this out there since I've been not writing for a month.

Phone etiquette

If you leave me a message to call you back, and I call you back an an inconvenient time, saying "Just call me back at 5:15" is annoying. 

You call ME back at 5:15.

Dear district, please reconsider this name.

I'm reading a student who graduated from Sobriety High School.





This does not look good to colleges.

Dear college,

I AM STRUGGLING.

--Student

Dear Computer Insert Key,

Dear Computer Insert Key,

Get off my keyboard. Get off my keyboard forever.

Here's what I want you to be:
--an extension of the already-too-small Backspace key.

Here's what you are:
--ruining my life.

Not to be all dramatic about it, but really...here's what you do to me, Insert Key. You make this sentence where I wrote it but forgot to write the words "sentence where I" so I had to go back and add "sentence where I" so the sentence make sense turn into this sentence:

You make this sentence where Igot to write the words "sentence where I" so I had to go back and add "sentence where I" so the sentence make sense turn into this sentence:

I HATE YOU FOR THIS.

There will never be a time with I want the letters I'm writing to replace letters I've already written. If I want to replace those letters, I will highlight the word and type the replacement. It's easier. It's better.

No love, no respect, no understanding,
Shan-z

I forgot about how great this music video is until THIS SECOND

Tonight

I am in my office wearing tights-as-pants and fake uggs-as-shoes.

I'm not proud of it, but I am extremely comfortable.

Don't come visit.

Phone conversation

"I know you mentioned him retaking a test a while back, but we looked into the timing of it all and how long it would take and how long it takes to get the scores, and just decided it wasn't worth it. But he's so interested in getting to your school...how can we make that happen?"

You can make that happen by retaking the test in February, like we talked about. I don't often give students a HERE'S WHAT YOU NEED TO DO SO I CAN ADMIT YOU BECAUSE I ACTUALLY WANT TO path, so when I do...follow it.

Blurg. I love to love, and hate when the students I love to love can't make it work.

I have a shopping problem.

why am i online shopping for an ipad cover?

i do not have an ipad.

but i want this.

How I feel the week after trying a new workout.

Am I the only one who's happy to lose internet privacy?

Ok, call me crazy, but here's where I'm at:

Google is now checking in on my browsing history...so they can see what I look at...which tells them what I'm interested in...which allows them to target ads based on those interests...which means the ads that I'm already seeing online will now actually apply to me.

Why is everyone so mad again??

It's not like they're adding MORE ads...they're just making the ads I already see actually relevant. I am only excited about this. No more ads to remedy mens' potency problems, cook vegetarian entrees or travel to Baton Rouge...more ads about red wine and shoes and Old Faithful. You aren't taking my privacy, Google, I'm giving it to you.

REASONS YOU ARE ALL UP IN ARMS ABOUT THIS:

--You look at porn all the time.
I get that--I wouldn't want whoever is on my computer to see ads for Hardcore Topless Girls on Bikes or Bottomless Men at a Mall (I don't really keep up with porn). They will for sure know what you Google when they're not around (or in the bathroom). That's your own call. Maybe time for a personal computer and a PERSONAL computer?

--You Google your own credit card information, SSN and mother's maiden name all the time.
Ok, that might make me nervous too, knowing that Google is using that on my behalf.

--You always get up in arms about featured stories on Yahoo.
I'm sure this qualifies as a Yahoo feature, so that makes sense.

--You're that girl who copies and pastes other people's status updates on Facebook as long as they claim that "the government" and "businesses" are trying to hurt us.
Again, I can't fight you if you're that girl. This totally qualifies as one of "those" things.

--You think what you do online is private.
Yeah...see above. I'm not going to win any arguments with that girl.

--You didn't read the part where Google promises they don't sell information that will allow someone to steal your identity.
Just read that part...you'll feel a little better, I promise. I mean, sure, maybe a company could steal your identity in that they could start loving everything you love, but not in that they can open a Swiss bank account in your name (no one does that--it's usually the other way around...they take money from your already existing Swiss account/s).


If any of those things apply to you, I know you're aaaall up in arms. But take a moment with me and think about it.

Did you do it? Ads that apply to you?

Do things seem a little better?

It's ok if they don't. I'm always making shiz up, and I'm pretty sure I don't understand the actual changes at all.

Hugs!

Dear 3.7, 1150 white girl,

You aren't getting into Stanford.

Best,
Shannon

Lifelong lessons from being a stay-at-home-Aunty for a week

So I had the pleasure of babysitting my good friends’ kids for six days a couple of weeks ago, and it was

a

DELIGHT.

I mean, I was excited in the first place to actually have kids with me to justify all of the kid things I already do, but I was also a little nervous, because I am no one’s mama (that I know of), and was concerned that I had little-to-no idea what I was doing. But these kids are so great, and it was so fun, and I loved it. We went to the movies in Hollywood, an elementary school Sweetheart's Dance (my first school dance), played with dogs, chickens and goats, rode bikes, drove with the convertible top down on Tiny Car, went to Jamba Juice, painted canvas bags and boxes, made our own pizzas and fortune cookies, gorged on apples and carrots, made it to softball practice and tae kwon do, cleaned our rooms, watched movies on the wall with the projector, sang Rihanna, got lost, did homework, flat ironed hair, rubbed aloe on booty rashes, wrote postcards for mom and dad, played at Chuck E Cheese, watched Looney Toons in bed...it was a lovely week.

It was, though, a completely different world. Like, I-have-no-idea-how-some-people-do-this-all-the-time world. There are just so many moving pieces to every day! So I kept track of most of the great, insightful and hilarious things that happened.

Never forget, never forget.

I actually kept a physical list because a—I wanted to be sure to tell my friends (their mom and dad), and b—I felt like I was accomplishing more because I was writing things down.

For your reference, Guy is the 6 year old boy, Lil' Lady is the 8 year old girl--both of them were with me all six days. Grrrl is the 3 year foster daughter who was with me for one day, and Squidward is the 4 month old foster son, also with me for a day. You know, I just didn't want to trumpet other people's kids' names all up in hurrr. I think that's a safety concern or something.

Anyway. Life lessons:

Things about having (like “acquiring” having, not like “birthing” having) kids that I never, ever knew:

--for every child, you get at least three loads of laundry a week. I had the 6 and 8 year old for six days, the 3 year old for a day and the 4 month old for a day, and I did at LEAST ten loads of laundry. At least. And I somehow ended up with about 30 unmatched socks. I'm not exaggerating.

--for every child, you get one load of dishes a day. I didn’t cook any elaborate meals (just in case you were wondering, which I’m sure you weren’t), and we still had at least two full loads of dishes a day. I washed dishes I had never seen.

--for every child, you get a full bag of trash in your car. At the end of my stay, I cleaned out my car and found handfuls of candy wrappers (we weren’t supposed to have sugar until we were done with dinner…sneaky), crayons (we never colored in the car), trash from toys that I never saw (where did they get full toys??!), Frito's (so many Frito's), ten Sunday School papers/handouts (we only went once), a coupon for a free ice cream for reading 15 minutes a day (may have kept this) cleaner spray for a whiteboard, and more.

--for every child, add ten minutes to expected times. If you want to leave at 8:00 a.m., you have to tell the two kids you’re leaving at 7:40. Every time, every day, no matter what, someone can’t find a shoe, forgets a jacket, loses a book, suddenly has to pee, forgot to get a snack, lost a page of math homework…

--for every child, you have to increase the number of times you ask them to brush their teeth two times before it happens. I get it…it’s an annoying chore. But one kid—two times and they do it. Two kids…two times for her, she keeps getting distracted by the other kid, he’s not brushing his teeth, etc., so two more times for her, then she does it. Then the same story for the other one.

--kids need to eat twice as often as I do, and 80% healthier. I like to have a latte in the morning, and one large meal--lunch or dinner. Sometimes, I'll snack on other stuff. Kids actually eat three meals a day...and there are snacks in between. I figured that they'd want more meals, so I was set for that. The snacks were a surprise. Also, after the first awesome night of making our own pizzas, I realized that we ate no fruits and veggies at all, other than the unusually large amount of onions I put on mine, and they didn't say a word...those guyyyyysss! So I may have over done it after that, and made fruits and veggies a part of EVERYTHING we did, including bringing apples to their favorite pizza place, and forcing the kids to eat them before we played games. I didn't really have to force...they're so good. And they like apples.

I also instituted a "No Fun Dip Rule" after day one. Lesson learned.

--kids are always at 100% energy all the time...it's just divided up differently.

For me...when I'm just waking up, I like to think I operate at 60% or so. I don't have the other 40%.

For just-waking-up kids, it's still 100%...it's just 40% awake, 20% asleep, 15% confused, 5% angry and 20% hilarious.

For bedtime-but-we-don't-want-to-go-to-bed (which only happened once, really. Such good kids.), it's 45% tired, 5% hilarious, 10% mad, 28% desperate and 12% completely crazy.

For I-am-happy-you're-here-but-also-hope-you-take-us-out-to-eat kids, it's 20% sweet, 30% completely adorable, 12% desperate, 33% creative, 5% hungry.

For I-need-a-snack-and-hope-it's-gonna-be-a-Fun-Dip kids, it's 35% hungry, 11% tricky, 9% irrational, 20% hilarious, 5% smart and 20% hopeful.

For it's-my-first-school-dance-and-I'm-regretting-agreeing-to-go kids, it's 20% terrified, 20% regretful, 15% hopeful, 11% excited, 12% confused and 22% really, really cute.

I could go on, but you get it. Moms have to handle 100% kids, 100% of the time. Props, moms.

Hilarious things these kids said that I am still laughing about. The list is ranked, but not really, because I have so many tied for number one. Guy is full of insight and observation, and Lil’ Lady is wildly grown up.

9. At Color Me Mine, Guy walks in and sees McDonald's trash in the trash can, and to the man behind the counter, says: "Let me guess...you ate McDonald's."

8. After experiencing the roof coming down on Tiny Car for the first time, Guy: “I’m going to go the bank like ten times and get enough money to buy one of these transformer cars for me. What kind is it again? Because my parents already have like $100, so ten trips to the bank will probably be enough. Actually, I think I'll go back to the bank one extra time so I can get money for a phone.”

7. After I commented on the red blood-paint that he painted on the inside of his snake box at Color Me Mine, the day before Super Hero dress up Day at school, Guy: "I like blood more than super heroes...but not my own blood."

6. Upon getting onto Hollywood Blvd, Guy: "Man, I am a fan!"

5. Lil’ Lady, commenting on the 4 month old not crying all day: "Squidward loves you. That means you're ready to get married and have a baby."

4. Lil’ Lady, at Chuck E Cheese: "Guy, why did you already cash in your tickets?"

Guy: "Because I want to pretend like I'm saving them...but I'm not."

3. Lil’ Lady to me regarding the Sweethearts Dance that we attended: "Uh, do you know how to do hair? Because I miiight have asked a boy to the dance."

2. After Lil’ Lady added her movie popcorn to her home popcorn (don’t tell that we had two popcorn treats in one day): "Is it weird to mix my popcorns?" Guy: "No, it's just like science."
End of conversation. I love that kid.

1. From the bath, after I told both of them that we were going to have 10 minutes of super clean up before we watched a movie, Guy: “AUNTY SHANNON!!! I JUST WANTED TO TELL YOU THAT YOU AND LIL’ LADY CAN START THE CLEAN UP TIME WITHOUT ME IF YOU WANT TO BECAUSE I AM STILL TAKING A BATH.”

1. At church, Guy, in the church library, looking for a Bible, upon selecting a book called “The Hole in our Gospel”: Me: "Oh, Guy, that actually isn't a Bible." Guy: "Yeah it is...look...it says Holy Gospel."

1. Guy randomly (and inconsistently) referring to any private parts as "bitties." For example:
--"That ball just hit me in right the bitties!!!"
--"Lil’ Ladyyyyy pull up your towel, I can see your bitties!"
--"I have to wear underwear so no one sees my bitties."

1. First night at bedtime, in response to me saying “Goodnight Guy.”, referring to Grrrl, the three year old foster sister: "I ate Grrrl. Goodnight Grrrl (rubs tummy)."

I am still laughing about all of this.

All in all, so much fun, so much learning. I was tired at the beginning, but got used to things in not too much time, and at the end, was a little sad to go.

I love other people's babies. Especially the hilarious ones. I will love on this week for all time.

first, imagine a skinny kid doing a jump kick.

This is not a good deal, Mattress Discounter.

"You'll always get Mattress Discounter's lowest price, or your mattress is free."

Right, because I'm shopping at Mattress Discounter. Did I need to bd concerned that you weren't offering me your own lowest price?

Facebook is killing me OR The end of some of my friendships.

I have a bad feeling that I will regret posting this, but I have held off for like a year, so I'm just gonna go for it. When you've got all this music in you...

**If one of these is from your Facebook, that means you KNOW me, and you KNOW that it's all for the love. I'm not making fun of you...just Facebook business. You know that, right? Look how much work I did to hide your identity. We are still friends. We are still friends. Please still be friends with me.**

So sometimes (often) I take screenshots of things on Facebook that I think are hilarious.

Here are some of them.



We aren't sure, but we might love you??



First of all, let me remind you that "not" is not back, but second, and more importantly, this is something that only your mom should have to hear.


We get it, you started learning Hebrew. Just post that though, because this FOR SURE did not happen. Like nothing you do to try and convince me that this happened will convince me that this happened.


Wait, it is?? So in training dogs, the owner is just a really smart dog?? I'm not sure that's what you meant to say.


This is only funny in context, which I'm about to provide:

Article Sharer: a good friend who grew up going to church a lot
First Commenter: a college friend she knew when she didn't go to church a lot
Second Commenter: sharer's childhood pastor

Just imagining them reading each others' comments made my whole hour.


Most disjointed update ever. I love this. But wait...are you trying to tell me that your dishes are done with all of the BS that comes along with doing taxes, or that your taxes are done with the relative ease of doing dishes? Also, I'm cramping.



Your kind of afternoon sounds AWFUL.
I don't know whether to love the actual status update more, or the comment. I mean, if you think about it (or really, if you don't), shredded paper is always recycling, no matter where it ends up. And I'm not convinced loose paper counts as litter, or that city trucks disburse it. Disperse it? Oh man, I just realized I have no idea.


Steps to editing your status the right way:
1. Post your status
2. See "Oops! I made a typo!"
3. Delete your status
4. Post the accurate status
5. Sigh in relief that no one out there saw your potentially message-altering mistake

Steps to editing your status the wrong way:
1. Post your status
2. See "Oops! I made a typo!"
3. Leave a comment on your own status, correcting the mistake with a sttaaaarrr!
4. Realize that by doing so, you've directed attention to the fact that you made the mistake in the first place
5. Brace yourself for all of the comments (both on and off Facebook) laughing at your mistake that literally makes your status mean the opposite of what you wanted it to mean.


Not Facebook, obviously, but come on, The News...cut the FBI some slack with the quote-y fingers. They're after a man named DB Cooper. Come on. DB Cooper.


YIKES.


That's a really strong reaction to a sale at a craft store.


I actually think it's because a computer mouse doesn't have any arms or legs.


Wait, so are we "lmao" or "serious" about this??


But let's not be dramatic about it.


I'm not sure you understand the whole "Is it just me, or..." thing. Because yeah, if you're being honest here, apparently you do really sit on the toilet longer to play games. You don't have to ask us.


Come on. Why not just hold off until his actual birthday? I don't think I know anyone who needs a forewarning on this.
"Ohhh I wish I'd known last week so I could prepare for the anniversary of Duke Ellington's birth!"
But really, congrats on knowing when his birthday is.


"Ohmigosh this is totally my favorite song but I don't know the title or who sings it but I love it!"


Oh man. Bottom comment followed by top comment. I just can't love it enough.


Right...because everything is quick...because it's an instant...


See former true hatred with sharing a Facebook account. This is better than any case-in-point I could've created.


Actually, based on his status...I'm pretty sure the only thing we know for sure is that you don't feel his pain.


"So I'm not sure if you know this or not, but I know Matt. But this is about him. But I for sure know him."


It's hard to fault someone for self-promotion when they actually make it a thank you note. I'm pretty sure this person thought long and hard about how to make that work.


Context: The second commenter is the girl who posted this status about being ready to "just birth this baby already!" J offers great advice...then another set of great advice...and claims both led to her baby being born when he was. I mean, thanks for the support, but I don't think we can claim that everything you did on the day your kid was born led to that kid being born.

"Earlier today, I was in a line of three cars at the coffee cart, and I had 11 emails when I came back from lunch."


This is my status update attempting to generically mock all of the Facebook buzz about someone else's wedding. BACKFIRE.

Second comment. Nasty.


Rih...I think your Facebook was hacked.

Really? That was a great day? Also, let's just refresh...that hyphen grammatically means that you did all of the remaining list items at Forest Lawn Cemetery, and if they serve brats...I'm gonna be weirded out.


Again, I don't know whether I like the request (for funds for a fun-not-missions-trip to Israel) or the responses more...from a Facebook friend...which should mean a real life friend............."get a job."


"I mean, cool photo and all, but really, HAPPY BIRTHDAY JJAANNNN!!!!"

]
I thought I was full of first world problems until I read this. I know you hate it, but kids in Mumbai really, really, really love your life. :)


Really? THAT'S her day?? "Bluueebluebleeeebleblahh that's your day and you're welcome."


"So let me make this simple, Auntie: I AM BETTER THAN UNCLE JIM."


"I need someone to block out a full day to come to my house and help with manual labor...and your payment will be cookies or ice cream. I said OR. Do not expect both."


I can't stop laughing about this.


Repeat offender. Friend, this is worth an actual edit. Some guy died.


Disagree on every level. That should DEFINITELY not be three sentences. Also, why on earth would having a Barbie with no hair somehow help a kid with cancer in any way? I don't think they feel bad because there isn't a female doll that doesn't look like them from the forehead up. And let's be real, Barbies can't donate proceeds...they're dolls.


1--I feel like we need to revisit what "BIGGEST" and "big" mean.
2--If you give anyone the choice of five OR ten dollars AND/OR dinner, I'm pretty sure they'll pick ten dollars and dinner.
3--This is really asking a lot...maybe offering to meet the person somewhere, or paying them around what their gas will actually cost would help. Just saying.


ARE YOUR KIDS OK?



I love Facebook so much for things like this, and I also hate Facebook so much for things like this. SOSOsosososssoooo glad we're still for SURE friends.