Friday Morning Hodgepodge

Busy morning.  Tripped over the dog and bumped my chin in the chilly morning.  Washed my hair.  Donned my new $35 Lucky jeans from Ross (usually $80) and my $10 gray sweater -- please see headless model below.  Got the kids to and from the doc.  Had my oatmeal with flax.  Pumped out a few push-ups.  Ready for my day.

My fitting room opinion shot.

My pantry and cupboards have undergone a thorough inventory of contents.  I'm headed to Nashville for my once-every-cupla-months pilgrimage to 'Whole Foods' and 'Trader Joe's.'  It's still hard to believe that one of the higher ups within these companies doesn't comprehend the market niche they could snag right here in the 'Boro!  But I'm ready for bins of medium-grain basmati rice and steel-cut oats, organic sugar and sea salt, red lentils and French lentils, flax seed and whole wheat pastry flour.  Organic butter.  Expelled-pressed canola oil.  Raw almond butter.  Real amber maple syrup.  Raw walnuts and almonds.  Oooh, and the dazzling array of gourmet cheeses from around the world!?  Is there a Manchego with my name on it?  Perhaps there will be smoked salmon on Superbowl Sunday?  And I simply must stock up on almond milk -- much cheaper than Kroger.  Let me at those aisles and sample kiosks!!!

The kids swept through their early dermatology appointments and sashayed out with their prescriptions, complicated instruction sheet, and bagful of goodies, er, samples.  I, on the other hand, limped out with the two specialist co-pay receipts and glycolic acid face wash purchase . . . and the prescriptions yet to be turned in.  My wallet is limping, too.  Compound fracture!  The nurse for the skin doctor happens to be a friend of ours; Sarah babysits regularly for her toddler son.  Having never observed this lovely lady in a work setting, I must herald her superior professional skills to the blogging world!  She had texted my daughter as we were leaving for the appointment to request Saturday sitting services, unaware of our impending arrival.  Her surprised smile was most welcoming.  And she said the kids could go on a 'field trip' one afternoon there at the clinic and see just what procedure people undergo from a lifetime of tanning.  Oh, what a swell parent of a teenager she'll make when that baby boy of hers grows up and out.

Speaking of baby boys, my son read the blog entry I wrote in his honor.  His honor, I declare, and he was not a happy teen.  That must be the key.  I'm an adult.  He's a hormonal 9th grader,  prone to embarrassment and misinterpretation of facts.  Where I saw a sweet story about his tribulations with face breakouts and cute speechisms, he saw ACNE and L-BABY!  He threatened to start his own blog and reveal the undesirable details of my life.  I told him it would hardly be effective as I do that my own self!  I further stated that I had worded the incidents carefully and with great affection.  This was greeted with crossed arms, his own elephantine sigh, and eye rolling.  "Oh, I'll word everything for YOU carefully, too!"  Yikes!  I can't promise I won't write about him again, but I can attempt to tread likely around buzz words and sensitive subjects.  So much for that entry on jock straps.  (Just kidding, Zachary!)

Well, me and my travel mug of 'Get-A-Grip' PMS tea had better head out.  Thanks to 'The Republic of Tea' there will be yet one more hormonal roller-coaster week through which my marriage remains intact.  Through which my children retain their major limbs and breathing privileges.  An efficient blend of rooibos, chicory, and licorice will work their magic on my innards and thus mediate the export of thought into verbiage.  Inner reaction into external action.  Thank you.  Thank you.

Ta-ta for now, dear readers.