Call Me At The Gas Station Payphone...

I have this new phone... and it makes me feel stupid.

What ever happened to payphones?

Just curious.

So I have this phone-it is the new HTC Hero Google hip hip hooray phone.

It is a touch screen so I have to do everything by touching little buttons on the screen-even a little keyboards.

So my texts look like this:

Hey! I thsle lkehes lkml llskerh lsisha ok?

I never knew I had fat fingers. Oh to have the long fingers of a pianist-I bet they would be able to send a text from my phone!

This phone has approximately 4 million different features-none of which I can figure out. I even have a hard time answering it when someone actually does something unheard of like call me to use their voice to communicate.

My 12 year old son figured all of the features out in 20 minutes which is proof that evolution is at play here and children have a special trait now that enables them to be able to understand technology better than their weak link parents.

Soon computers will be obsolete because babies will be born with a hard drive.

I am so screwed.

Psssst...

Guess WHAT?

It is FRIDAY!

I have to go do some secret undercover "my name is not June" type of stuff today--and I even get paid for it...

Which is kinda cool considering that tomorrow is HALLOWEEN and I can be all mysterious...

Now I have to just decide if I want to go as a "blogger" a "tweeter" or a "facebooker"

They are all different you know.

A blogger would wear mom clothes-yoga pants, hair in a pony and have a kid hanging off of her hip.

A tweeter would wear casual clothes-jeans, T-shirt, Ugg boots and gloves with the finger cut out so they can tweet from their phone.

And a facebooker would wear business attire... because we all know facebookers are all at work screwing around on the Internet instead of doing their JOB!

Or I can just go with my original idea...

See... "mysterious!"

This Will Make You Smile... Or Cry, It All Depends Upon Your Hormones...

Thanks to Aunt Barb for sending this to me today...

I am PMSing so it made me cry...

Seriously...

It is pretty amazingly awesome though-and it made me cry because I thought of all of the parents who were so proud of their girls-and it made me think of my kids and how proud I am of them...

And that is why I cried...

And ate a pound of chocolate chips that I was planning on using to make cookies with...

So now I have puffy eyes and am fat...

Thanks Aunt Barb....

As God Is My Witness... She Will Be Potty Trained Before College!

I am coming to you from my kitchen table where I just ate my daughter's waffles after I vowed to not eat a stitch of food today because I have somehow packed on a few "winter" pounds in the past few weeks.

Thank God for sweatshirts...

Anyway, I am in the throws of potty training... the trenches of toilet procedures.... up to my elbows in little butts.... and I am pulling my hair out!

My little one refuses to use the potty chair. That is right, she outright REFUSES! She has YET to even put a little drop of tinkle in that chair-and the amazing thing is, that if she did tinkle in there she would discover that a little song will play and it will probably scare the shit out of her as well! Two birds-one stone.

I don't know why I am failing at this-I mean, I have successfully potty trained 3 other children, and several dogs. How hard can this be? Why am I forgetting how to do this? Is it true that breast feeding does suck your brains right out of your boobs and after 4 kids I am finally destined to ride on the short bus?

Sigh...

My first child was a dream to potty train-but aren't the first children a dream to get them to do anything... they are so perfect. That is where God gets you to have more children-he fools you with the perfect one first and then you decide to have a second which is NOTHING like the perfect first born... but somehow the second one tugs at your heart strings and you think about having another-God's way of fooling you AGAIN! The third is the drama filled one that makes you vow to never have "relations" for fear that more tantrums will ensue (your own, not the children's') until one fateful night with Tequila and cold medicine that messes up your ovulation schedule and you say something like "I'm fine... sreallys, I vovulated lassssst weeek." and before you know it you are potty training child number FOUR and have forgotten all of your tricks and rules and you have become a push over from all of the children working on your mental stability day in and day out for all eternity!

Big Sigh...

It is like she is outsmarting me. Her bladder must be the size of a whales because she can hold it for an entire morning-sitting in wait for me to have to put that diaper on her because we are out of milk and she knows that I will have to take her to the store. We have been out of milk now for 5 days because I have refused to leave the house with her for fear that she will pee in her diaper! We are also out of toilet paper-but paper towel works in a pinch and I'll be DAMNED if I won't stand my ground!

She usually has an "accident" and I am using the word "accident" reluctantly because she always does it on the hardwood kitchen floor. I figure she does it this way because she has seen the dog sit out in the cold for HOURS after she has peed on the carpet.

So I am coming to you all... my trusted friends who have done it all, seen it all, and achieved it all! Do you have any secrets for me to use to get her to tinkle on the toilet?

PLEASE!!!!! I will try anything right now-I am willing to even try electric shock therapy (on myself of course!)

Don't fail me now Six-Packers.... I am sending up the bat signal, which is in the shape of a toilet-not a bat, and counting on you!

Kthanksbye!

Late For Dinner, But Early For Breakfast... We have a WINNER!

Okay... I realize that I said I would put up the winner on Monday, and yes I realize that I meant (and I know that you know that I know) that it was supposed to be LAST Monday... but TODAY is the first day of the rest of your lives people, and it is also a Monday, and the winner is about to be announced... in a very clean way-a way so clean that you will be happy that I waited so long and spent so much time researching "clean" things to put on here.

Trust me...

Okay so I put all 43 comments into my handy dandy "Random Integer Generator" and after only 86 clicks of the "again" button I came up with a WINNER!

Oh relax, I did not click the again button 86 times, I only clicked it once and came up with a winner... (this statement is so that none of you sue me for a box of tanning wipes because you cry FOUL to the big man, otherwise knows as "The Government") pfffft.

Soooo...

The winner is: Comment #3

Random Integer Generator
Here are your random numbers:3
Timestamp: 2009-10-26 13:37:20 UTC

That means You Jenny! Congratulations! Jenny likes to drink "Smart Water" which makes her glow with happiness and joy and tells her the winning numbers to the lottery every week! This is some amazing water folks!

Anyway... Jenny if you could email me at six-pack@live.com with your address I will send your Loreal tanning wipes out to you post hast-in time for you to try them out before your wedding and if they don't work, in time for you to exfoliate the hell out of yourself to get the tan off before your wedding!

Now, while I was reading all of your comments I realized that other than Buzzy's words of beauty wisdom and Cousin Steve's confused look at bacon grease and condoms, we did not get many winter beauty secrets from our male readers.

This means that men sit around all winter itching their dry skin and never realizing that they can use something other then soap and water to make themselves radiate a healthy glow that comes from spending hundreds of dollars on beauty products! Pfft, they are such simple creatures.

Do you know of any men who have a beauty regime? I mean... men who wear baseball caps, work boots, drive diesel engines and don't shave on the weekends? Do you know any of THOSE type of men who have beauty secrets?

Yeah, me neither....

I do know men who wear loafers, argyle sweaters, drive smart cars and shave every day of their life so they don't break out on Monday mornings who have beauty regimes...

But they usually don't pay attention to women... they pay attention to other men who have beauty regimes.

Not that there is anything wrong with that.

But I prefer a man who cleans out the dirt from under his nails with his pocket knife.

So other than your man occasionally using the beauty products that are in your shower... that are YOURS and that you spend a lot of money on-and chances are you have no idea that they have been using your exfoliating gloves until you put them on one morning and find black curly hairs on them (ARGHHHHHHHHHH!) I think it is safe to say that men don't pay much attention to having soft skin.

Unless it is your soft skin, then they pay attention (which is why we spend hundreds of dollars on our beauty secrets... oh the evil web men weave!)

And they don't have to wear make up.

And they don't use conditioner... heck, they don't even use shampoo, Dial soap works just fine for them (and the only reason why they use Dial is because they giggle in the shower when they spell it backwards.)

And they don't have to get pedicures or manicures.

And they don't have to wax their body parts.

And they get their hair cut for $6.

JEEZ!

But I am thankful for my beauty secrets... because without them I would apparently look like a MAN, and I dressed up like a man once for a "role playing mystery dinner" party, and I am not an attractive man, so I am glad I am a woman who has to use twenty different lotions and change my conditioner every other month and shave my legs, pits, and other areas, and sleep in fuzzy socks because I have thick goo spread between my toes so that I am soft and delicate and the only thing rough about me is my attitude when you mess with one of my peeps! That is right! Damn Straight! *giggle*

I am also going to try many of your beauty secrets, like hibernating under my down comforter, going to a spa, Aquaphor, and mojitos in Florida.

Thanks Six-packers! You are the BOMB!

OH-and one more secret for you... although it is not a beauty secret but it may very well make you smile big with your newly whitened teeth because you smeared them with strawberries last night... if you google "men showering" you may get an eyeful! Nothing that I would ever put on this blog and nothing that I will ever look at again as I have erased my history so I am not tempted (yep) but I will leave it up to you as to whether or not you want to say "Oh my-isn't that nice" this Monday Swoon Morning.

So go forth and moisturize my friends~

Now get back to work!

Winter Beauty Secret GIVEAWAY!!!!!

It is that time of year when you look down at your hands and they are raw and dry and your legs look like you were a mermaid in another life with all of the lovely flaky scales and your hair... your hair is dry, limp and breaking.





Let's hear it for WINTER!!!!! Hip Hip GO AWAY!!!!!!





Well ladies and gents, it is June Cleaver to the rescue! I am going to give you some of my winter beauty secrets-secrets so secret that you will need a security clearance to read the rest of this post.... so if you would simply raise your right hand and repeat after me:





"I know who I am, I can vouch for who I am and I am willing to go to jail if someone says I am not who I say I am... so help me Betty Crocker."





Okay, now that we have that out of the way...





Let's talk hands shall we? Are yours as freakin' dry and chapped as mine? Ugh! It is horrible... and embarrassing! I don't have lovely nails that I have to go to the salon to get filled every two weeks of my life because I couldn't stand that kind of commitment and felt like I was Martha Stewart with a ankle bracelet so that my parole officer knew where I was and had to check in with him every night at 9pm... but I do have nice nails of my own and I like my hands to look soft and feminine (something I am sure all of the male readers strive for as well). In the winter, I soothe my hands with lotion orgasm that I keep in my purse. It is called "Naked Body Butter" by Bliss and you can get it where Sephora is sold (read: JC Penney). It is a little pricey-but really... how much is too much when we are talking beauty? Besides, a little goes a long way with this stuff and so it is worth every bit of the $35 price tag. Honest!





How is your skin? No, I mean REALLY... how is your skin? Flaky? Itchy? GROSS? Mine too! I hate it!!! I am a lotion whore-I can't help it. Every time I am in the bathroom I am slathering myself with lotion and in the summer time this works GREAT because I usually have shorts on so my legs get that extra dose of moisture just as often as my arms, elbows, earlobes, and bellybutton does... but in the winter my legs are covered up by pants so they are only getting moisture (and seeing sunlight!) in the morning hours and in the evening hours, so their moisture allowance not only goes way down in the winter... but the winter dry crappy air tortures my skin as well. Dammit! How do I combat this obvious attack by foreign countries on my American skin? I exfoliate!!!! Go buy those little $2 bath gloves-the ones that feel rough and scratchy-and put them in your shower. Lather them up with soap every time you bathe and scrub the junk right off of you! Use them on your face, your legs, your arms, belly and back. I even use them on my feet (but I have a different pair for my feet because feet give me the heebie-jeebies and I don't want my feet gloves touching my face-obvi!). When I get out of the shower I coat myself with Eucerin lotion. You can get this at Target... or any grocery store. It is a little bit more than your typical Vaseline lotion-but I have never had a lotion that I louvre more than Eucerin (so take THAT Hollywood with your expensive-must have-lotions that only movie stars can afford!). It works, AND... I can even put it on my face without breaking out. SCORE!





Moving on...





Hair. Ugh. Blech. WHY!!!!! Sigh...


I use Nexus Shampoo and Conditioner-I wash my hair twice a day-I am horrible and mean to my hair and I have no excuse, I can't help it. But... there is one thing that I cannot live without and I think, with all of the torture that I submit my hair to, it is happy that I give it this one thing to help it along in my daily abuse of it. Paul Mitchell's Super Skinny Serum. Yes, I will admit that I originally bought it because it said "super skinny" and I thought that maybe I was going to get skinny... nay, SUPER SKINNY if I used it. I did not know if Paul Mitchell discovered some amazing diet treatment that would make you skinny if you had fabulous hair-but I was willing to try. So, in my pursuit of being skinny I discovered that my hair LOVES this stuff-and it helps keep away the limp, sad looking hair that winter (and personal abuse) can do to your lovely locks. By the by... you can snag this stuff up at your salon-they prolly sell Paul Mitchell because he is like, the hair products god or something.





This last thing is something NEW that I have yet to try but my girlfriend swears by it! You know how in the winter you lose your summer tan-that perfect color that your skin gets from the kiss of the sun? Well... the other day I saw my friend and she looked like she had just gotten off the plane from a well-deserved relaxing vaca in the fantasy world of "sunny" and "warm!"





I was all "Are you tanning?"


She was all "No"


I was all "What's up with the sun-kiss look then biatch!"


She was all "I have my ways."


I was all "You gonna share your ways or do I have to beat it out of you and steal your Coach purse?"


She was all "NOT MY COACH PURSE!"


I was all "Oh yes... the Coach purse."


She was all "Fine-I will hand over my lovely beauty secret, but you have to buy me dinner."


I was all "Fine, my wallet is in your Coach purse."





So she told me she has been using tanning towelettes from Loreal. I KNOW! Who knew tans could come in a towel?





This also gave me an idea for a giveaway! All you have to do is leave a comment telling me your favorite-must have-can't live without-winter beauty secret. I don't care if it is a secret passed down from your great-great-grandpa who was a cross dresser and could sing Judy Garland like nobodys business, or if it is one that you just discovered yesterday! Just let me know-let the world know! We need all the help we can get during the winter months to keep looking fabulous.





On Monday I will reveal the winner that I will get from my handy-dandy-random-picker-outer-thingy.





What is the prize? Those towelettes from Loreal of course! So leave a comment and maybe you can be getting your tan on next week!

kthanxbye!

Emma-isms...

My six year old cracks me up. She has the funniest sense of humor-it is dry yet silly-the perfect combination if you ask me.

It is this humor that has put her on a "behavioral chart" at school. Every day she comes home with a smiley face or a dot to let me know how her behavior was for that day.

This was her teacher's idea, and although I know her teacher is very proud of herself for thinking it up... I think it is rather tiresome.

I mean.... SHE IS SIX! Six year olds are supposed to be silly and loud and run around and hug each other and tell stories that last for 36 minutes without stopping to take a breath!

It is all part of discovering who they are... and my six year old is FABULOUS!

One day she came home with a dreaded DOT... and her explanation was "Mom, a kid challenged me and said that I wouldn't be able to stand on top of the toilet seat... so I did it, because she said I couldn't, and I did... seriously mom, that is why. I'm not kidding."

She also likes to use the word "BAM!" as in.... "I was telling Aaron a story about a little unicorn who skipped through the forest and then BAM!-the unicorn turned into a piece of poop." or "Hope said I couldn't get the dishes out of the top cabinet but I was all BAM! and showed her that I could do it. Sorry for the broken dishes mom."

Try "BAMMING!" someone today-it'll make you feel better. I promise.

Hope always likes to ask me to spell things for her (because she is spelling inept-no matter how hard she tries she forgets that "I comes before E" and blah blah blah...

Yesterday Hope asked me "How do you spell relief?" and Emma, who had been asking for a snack for the past 45 minutes (because dinner was an hour earlier) said "How do you spell 'can Emma have a snack?"

And I just laughed my ass off at that kid.

Because she makes me smile-and smiling is one of my favorite things to do!

It's Okay... Tomorrow Monday Will Be Over!

It is a Monday after an action-packed weekend and I am pooped.

But I didn't want to leave you hanging for the Monday Swoon because I know how Mondays can be... especially after a action-packed weekend when you are pooped and don't want to go on.

When the alarm goes off at O'Dark-Thirty and you just want to smash it to little bits because it is MONDAY!

Ugh.

So-to get you through this day, even though I am pooped, I give you a man that could be your coffee in the morning:

Your reason for wearing perfume to the grocery store:

And I am willing to bet my life that he probably smells like a lazy Sunday afternoon nap.

If all of THAT didn't help boost your Monday and you want to just smile and giggle from the inside out-go here.

You are welcome!

Now get back to work!

Experts Say That Women Speak Up To 20,000 Words A Day... And Their Point Is?

Once upon a time... the other day I was all alone-all day long. No kids, no friends, no family... just alone.

Then I saw my girlfriend and she had been alone all day as well...



And we kept talking over each other-telling each other about our day, our thoughts, our analysis of the most recent fashion trend of thigh-high boots, why we are amazed at the phenomenon that causes men to lose their leg hair where their socks are yet we still have to shave every other day for eternity, what the text message said that our second cousin twice removed sent us, why Oprah thinks she is hot-shit, who we think is hot-shit, then make general observations of women wearing cable-knit sweaters, recall our memories of wearing cable-knit sweaters in high school, laugh when we discover we both are wearing cable-knit sweaters again, and basically discuss why we do the voodoo that we do...

And we were happy again.

The End.

I Can't Take It Anymore!!!

I hate the Old Navy commercials.

I hate the "Supermodelquins"

I think they need to be disassembled and set on fire!

La La La... WHAT? La La La...

You know those moments right after you have a baby and you finally get the little one calmed down and napping happily before you, and you are able to sit... stare off into space... maybe daydream about fitting into your fat jeans again?

Those moments where your mind just lets your body detach itself and when you "come to" you wonder how long you had been sitting there with your eyes transfixed on the curtains and your mouth slightly open?

That little time of relaxation that God grants newly exhausted mothers so that they can reboot a little-take a deep breath and go on with their day regardless of the spit up stains on their t-shirt and the fact that they are wearing their husbands sweatpants because their yoga pants split at the crotch just that morning?

That fraction of a second when you can wonder what your life would have been like if Timmy Murphy had asked you to prom instead of Newman Pawlowski and where you would be if you had the guts to go to Julliard because you always thought you were a fabulous dancer?

And then it happens...



The baby moves, sneezes, coughs, giggles, cries or even sits up and says "Hey! PAY ATTENTION TO ME!" and you jump about 10 feet out of your overly saggy skin and are shot back to reality!

Your heart beats out of your chest and you actually choke on your own saliva because your mouth was dry from being propped open during your 2 minute sabbatical!

You may even say something like "Holy Shit!" or "Holy Crap!" because at moments like these, when you are happy and content and then the littlest thing happens to scare the pee right out of your bladder, you have to pray and curse all at the same time!

And because once we have a baby, we are always a mom... until the day we die. We will always have our children in our thoughts-(even if our thoughts are of Matthew McConaughey)-the moment our children move, breathe, make a peep or just sigh a happy sigh we are awake-aware-on duty and ready to lend a helping hand...

Even if that helping hand is just simply taking a look and accessing that all if fine and we can go back to our yummy bamboo and staring off into space.

My Life...

You have no idea how much this picture makes me smile...






And you have no idea how much it screams "THIS IS JUNE'S LIFE!"

Friends, family, kids... I am sure all of you can relate.

Hope is makes you giggle!

Grandpa Mac... The Original Swoon

The other day my Aunt Barb sent out a couple of pictures of my Grandpa Mac. As soon as I opened them up I had to smile.

The first photo is my favorite because I love that my Grandpa was smart, that he wore a overcoat and hat and that he was a positive example of a good man. He was a man of conviction and worth, of faith and strength. He IS the original Swoon for me.





He was the kind of Grandpa that made you feel like he loved you more than the rest-and he made each of his grand kids feel that way.

He was cool because he had a wooden leg. Yeah-I know! Isn't that COOL! How many kids can go to school and tell their friends that their grandpa has a wooden leg?

His car was all fixed up so that he could still drive even though he had a wooden leg-how many kids could drive in their Grandpa's car and see the AMAZING, out of this world, special pimped out knobs because he was THAT COOL?

He always had a pocket full of caramels for us kids.

One late summer night I was running around the neighborhood with my shirt off (I was a tomboy and my best friend was a boy so I went through a phase where I wanted to be a boy and therefore ran around with my shirt off like my best friend did... I think I was 4.) Anyway, this summer night had a bit of a chill in the air and I ran past my Grandpa who was sitting on a lawn chair and he grabbed me and wrapped his strong warm arms around me and said "Aren't you cold without a shirt?" I remember how warm and cozy his arms were-the perfect hug.

His house had the best Grandpa smell you could ever imagine. I loved it-

He always had Town House crackers for snacks.

He had stacks of National Geographic Magazines in his living room.

I still have Spaghetti on Wednesday nights because when I was a kid my Grandpa rotated having dinner at each of his 4 children's homes-we had Wednesday night and my mom made him spaghetti. It is a habit that I will never tire of because of him.

I miss him.

I loved him so~

What Was I Going To Say?

I woke up with a great idea for today's post, but by the time I grabbed my laptop I completely forgot what I was thinking about. Foiled again by the morning hangover.

*************************

My bedroom has an "open plan" which is fancy talk for "the bathroom does not have a door" so anyone and their brother can walk in on you when you are stepping out of the shower. And can I just say that no bathroom door makes for a FREEZING cold towel off after a hot shower because there is nothing to hold all that warm delicious air in? Who ever thought of this "open plan" concept for bathrooms is an idiot. Seriously.

**************************

I am coming to you from the confines of my warm bed because it is cold out there people-I stuck my foot out from under my heavy down comforter just a millisecond ago and now I have frostbite. I am not joking. I love this time of year but I hate being cold, I don't understand why God wanted us to have cold weather. Is is to toughen us up? If that is so it is not working because cold weather just makes me a wimp and afraid to get out of bed in the morning. Wait a minute... does that mean I would not survive the "survival of the fittest" theory where the weak are killed off so that the strong hairy people can survive? Oh my Lord-

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Why does it take the warm water so long to travel from the water heater in the basement to my shower up here? It is irritating. I turn on the shower, make my bed, toss my pj's in the hamper, grab my razor, rearrange the soaps, shampoos, conditioners and lotions on the ledge so they look pretty and weigh myself and the water is STILL cold. In the meantime I am standing around naked waiting for the water to warm up and having all of my children walk in on me because I don't have a door to my bathroom.

****************************

One thing I do LOVE about the chilly weather is sweatshirts. Yes. Sweatshirts offer me the ability to wear my size 4 jeans that give me massive muffin top and belly hang but no one knows because I have a sweatshirt on covering up all of my unfortunate body flaws. This may be the reason why I gain 10 lbs every winter because if I have a sweatshirt on I will eat all of my dinner and have dessert because the evidence will be hidden. I have 6 months until April when I start to panic about my muffin top and belly hang... I have to live it up while I can!

*****************************

Sigh... well, I have procrastinated long enough. It is time for me to venture out into the cold and start my day. The 6 year old started her day at the crack of dawn because it is Saturday and she does not have to go to school and mom likes to sleep in a little on Saturdays so she has to do everything in her little loving power to make sure THAT does not happen. I'm so happy I am the mom of little people.

*****************************

Seriously.

Mornings... Grumble Grumble...

I hate mornings. I really do.

Wait, let me change that... I hate waking up in the morning.

Yeah-that is it.

I don't mind mornings, actually I kind of like them-going around and making beds and picking up odds and ends while the sun is shining through the newly opened blinds.

It gives me a sense of hope-of newness-of me being a maid to my children who are little lazy butts who can't pick up a single pair of underpants from the bathroom floor if I told them I would take them to Disney World!!!

A friend told me that the reason I don't like waking up in the morning is because I go to bed so late at night.

This is true. I am a night owl, but only because that is the only time of the day when I do not have someone looking to me to make their life easier. It is the only time that I can actually watch something that I want to watch on the television that does not have puppets, cartoon characters or grown men singing children songs and acting like lunatics.

I love my late nights.

But last night I went to bed early. I was exhausted and it was just the perfect combination of chilly in my house and warm under my covers that made me drift off to slumber about 3 hours earlier than I usually do.

And I woke up feeling FAB U LOUS! I was amazed! What is the crazy thing called "sleep" that I have been missing?

So I went about my chore of waking the savage beasts that live with me. The 14 year old gets up earlier than the rest of us because she is in high school now and has to do her hair so she is only embarrassed by the fact that her mother picks her up from school in a ponytail, yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt every day of her mother-loving-please-help-me-survive-her-social-status life, and the baby is usually up at the crack of dawn singing songs like "A, B, G, F, E" and "mommymommymommymommymommy" which comes in such a sing-song rhythm that you can't help but be lulled back to sleep to it. Pfft.

But the middle two... they are bears in the morning, and we aren't talking fun-loving circus bears that ride unicycles and wear cute little Shriner hats... no, we are talking "rip all your limbs off and dance on your rotting carcass" bears.

I usually get really irritated by this morning ritual of corralling the feral children every morning, but today-with my newly refreshed full night of sleep mind, I was able to fend off yelling and screaming at the top of my lungs until the neighbors called CPS on me... AGAIN!

My pleasant mood helped the 6 year old be happy and cheery before she walked out the door. She didn't even argue with me about clothes this morning! I need to call Guinness Book of World Records.

But the boy in the house, he did not play into my evil plan of actually being NICE to my kids in the morning and he was still his usual "angry-boy" self.

I am proud of him for sticking to his convictions.

At least he is consistent.

When he makes up his mind-he does not change it.

He has a strong personality.

He is just training for the day he is a prison warden.

Sigh...