What is Your Facebook Personality?

*Disclaimer* No real names have been used in this post. Any resemblance to you or someone you know is purely coincidental.

If you are on facebook (by now, who isn't, really) you have a fb personality-whether you want to admit it or not. This diversity is part of what makes social networking so much fun. Here I have listed a few of those personalities, in no particular order.

1. The Energizer Bunnies
These are the facebookers who are so busy they have zero time for punctuation in their busy schedule they have so many ideas that need to get across to their friends and so many places to go that taking even a nanosecond to use any sort of punctuation is not possible so why even bother to take a breath and insert it in.

Whew. Lost my wind there for a sec. Ok, ready to move on.

2. Ole' Yellers
IT IS TOO FRUSTRATING TO HIT THE SHIFT BUTTON EVERY TIME A CAPITOL LETTER IS NEEDED. LEAVING THE ALL CAPS BUTTON ON IS SO MUCH EASIER. TOO BAD IT LOOKS AS IF THE WRITER HAS A SHOUTING PROBLEM- WHAT MAKES IT EVEN FUNNIER IS THAT THIS PERSONALITY IS USUALLY OWNED BY SOMEONE WITH SUCH A SWEET PERSONALITY, THEY WOULD NEVER HURT A FLY, LET ALONE YELL AT IT.

3. Raindrops on Roses and Whiskers on Kittens
Just as reminiscent as the song, so is this personality. This is the facebooker who takes time to see beauty in all things, at all times. It is rarely taken to the double rainbow level, but posting pictures of kittens and baby ducks is not out of the realm of possibility.

4. Oscar the Grouch
While this personality is rarely owned on a daily basis, all of us from time to time use facebook to oust our frustrations. (Some more so than others.) Rants can range anywhere, including cell phone carriers, annoying traffic violators, disobedient children, and gross sinus infections.

5. Mommy's Angels
This is the facebooker who has dedicated her profile solely to her children. She feels guilty if her profile picture displays anyone else, including herself. Statuses must always include cute quips from her darlings, and photo albums must be uploaded on a monthly basis at minimum. Facebook serves as a giant car bumper to display all of her babies' accomplishments and milestones. Social networking is also what keeps her sane in a child-consumed life.

6. The Gamers.
You know who you are- facebook serves little else than a place to do your farming, mafia hits, and inquiries on how many children you will have one day and which celebrity you most look like.

7. The Spies
I'm not sure what percentage of the fb population makes up this personality- it's impossible to know-but these are the ones who never post anything on their profile, yet silently probe into everyone else's business.

8.  Play by Play
Just like a sports announcer during a basketball game, this personality must alert all friends of daily activities- when they eat, shower, even go potty.

So, what personality are you? I own at least a couple of them myself. And if you have taken any offense to anything in this post, pleae remember the above disclaimer. Happy social networking!

Wiggle, Wiggle, Wiggle

While I have been preparing myself to send Brooke to kindergarten soon, I had no idea I would be hit with another growing-up whammy today in the dental office. Brooke, Madeline, and Isaac all had dental cleanings today, where I mentioned that Brooke had been complaining about her teeth "being funny" during meals. Within seconds, the hygienist figured out why. Brooke's two front teeth on the bottom are loose, and an adult tooth has already erupted behind them. How in the WORLD did I miss this? In any case, she must lose the teeth within a few weeks or they will need to be extracted. So wiggle, wiggle, wiggle we go.

Which brings up the subject- how much money is appropriate from the tooth fairy these days? Is it sentimental or gross to keep her baby teeth? Hmm... I should also go ahead and make her a cute tooth holder.  Something girly, yet still functional.

Oh, Brooke- I thought I would have another year before admiring a toothless smile, but time marches on whether I like it or not. I love you, baby girl!!!

Also, happy birthday to another kid I love- Parker D. He turned three years old last week, and while I am so very bummed my kids had to miss his birthday party, I can't wait to give him a huge hug next time I see him. You can read about his big day on his mommy's blog.

Oh Steph, I can't believe he is THREE!! Great job on raising such a loving and smart little boy. You are an amazing mama- so glad to be a part of your lives. Love you!

Pools, Procrastinating, and "Peed My Pants" Google Style

Last week the kids and I spent our days going back and forth between home and VBS, and though exhausting, it was 100% worth the time and energy. We ended the week with a pool party provided by the church, where I let the kids play in the "big pool". Ever since I watched that episode of Oprah a few years ago about dry drowning, I've been terrified to watch my children in any body of water bigger than a bathtub. Letting go of my intense grip on my children in the water was further challenged when Isaac decided to go after a pool toy all by himself. It's number one in this edition of What I Learned This Week.

1. Even though he shows fear of strangers, parking lots, and being lost in a crowd, my two year old son does not understand that he can't walk on water. I am very thankful his daddy has the reflexes of a cat.

2. When volunteering in the craft room at Vacation Bible School, the messiest age group may not be the one you expected.

3. I am more of a procrastinator than I like to admit. Four days after deciding to take my BFF Amy up on her "whip it up" challenge, I still have not completed the blanket I started for Lydia three months ago.

4. My once burning desire to learn to knit for an upcoming 16 hour car drive has fallen to the wayside, and I am very sad about this. But obviously not sad enough seeing as I am doing nothing about it. Again, that darn procrastinating problem.

5. Recalling which alternating week the recycling truck comes by is much more difficult a task than one might think.

6. Telling your little girls that their dream of seeing Cinderella's castle is coming true will be one of the most fun times in parenthood. You will also hear, "How many sleeps until..." every waking moment of the day.

7. Watching House Hunters International reminds me of how spoiled I am as an American, and thankful I don't have a washing machine in my kitchen.

8. Blogging has apparently become an addiction of mine.

9. Doing a google blog search for "peed my pants" sends you to my blog. Funny.

For more things that people learned this week, hop on over to From Inmates to Playdates.

Fixing the Water Pipes

I had decided she was never going to come. I would be pregnant forever. After daily contractions for weeks on end, and my stubborn desire to be all natural and to not induce, Madeline was nine days past her welcome. So, after putting Brooke down for a nap, I had a good frustrating cry, then got ready to join my SIL Julie and our mother in law for lunch that day. A few minutes later, I felt a tiny, but distinct "pop"! And then a trickle. Either I had peed myself (definitely within the realm of possibility) or my water just broke. I can't remember who I called first- Bill or the midwife- but not much further down the list of phone calls was to Julie, letting her know that I wouldn't be making it to lunch after all. Later that evening, Julie's then 3 year old son ran up to his daddy and asked him to get his toolbox. He explained that Aunt Michelle's water was broke and he needed to go over and fix it for her.

I remembered this story tonight after Madeline spilled a tall glass of water all over the living room floor. After cleaning up the mess, I chuckled about that hot summer day nearly four years ago when I considered her spilling the water to actually be a good thing, and my sweet nephew's ingenious solution to help me fix it.

Don't Cry Over Dried Laundry

After a six month hiatus, my husband is helping with the laundry again. While this does speak for how much my love cares for me, it speaks even more for how much my postpartum hormones have finally started to normalize. This past January, Bill came under the harsh wrath of my after-baby blues while in the laundry room. He had made what should have been a harmless decision to switch a load of clothes from the washer into the dryer. Little did he know the chaos this would cause my fragile post-delivery brain, only a couple weeks following the birth of our beautiful Lydia. As the dryer came to a stop, I opened the door, and- to my absolute horror- realized the gravity of what my husband had done. In his attempt to help me, he had used regular heat on the normal cycle, and he had used a dryer sheet. A scented dryer sheet. My eyes immediately welled up with tears. I felt panicked. I didn't know what to do as I felt my entire world cave in around me. I knelt to the floor, picked up a warm onesie, and buried my face in it as I wept. My unsuspecting husband walked in at that moment, stunned to see me hysterically crying. My tears then turned to anger as I let him have it- asking him how he could possibly think it was ok to use a dryer sheet with baby items?! Didn't he realize that the high heat would shrink the clothes, and the normal, nongentle cycle would wear them out faster? And what if there had been a stain on something (which there wasn't) but what if there had been and he didn't know it and the hypothetical article of clothing would have then been ruined??? Bill looked at me- a crumpled mess on the floor wearing a milk-stained nightgown now soaked with crocodile tears. He quietly apologized, promising to not ever do laundry again. I wiped away the tears and removed myself from the floor, carrying my unperfectly laundered clothes with me. So last night, when I saw Bill switching clothes from the washer to the dryer, it took me back to that crazy moment. And instead of crumpling up hysterically crying in front of the washing machine, I gave my love a hug and kiss, and thanked him, happy that both my brain and my heart were finally in unison once again.

From the Diaries of a Homeless Dyson

Hi. I'm Dyson, the hard-working, floor-cleaning accessory in this non-bug-eating household. I am plugged in daily, and never feel neglected. My owner has even referred to me once or twice as her sexy cleaning companion. However, even with all this love, I have one major problem. I am homeless, usually left alone in the foyer, as there is no closet to call my own. The downstairs closet used to be called home, until a sudden shoe reorganization kicked me out a few months ago. With the upstairs closet dedicated to linens, I am now left to wander aimlessly throughout the day. It's ok, though- really it is. It allows me to join in family activities, even if it is in the background.

I enjoy watching male bonding in the foyer from time to time.

I also serenade Brooke on occasion as she listens to her music.

I help comfort Lydia in the car carrier just before outings.

(I know- I barely made it into the picture. But don't the floors look clean and shiny?)

I like to oversee the older girls make a castle out of blankets and pillows.

And I watch Isaac play with his mommy while she snaps a few pictures.

Yes, I love this family. I work hard to keep their floors dirt-free, and thoroughly enjoy being a part of the action, even if it is in the background. Maybe one day I will find a closet or space to call my own. (I mean, really- is it my fault that just weeks after I was purchased, my makers released a smaller, lighter version of myself?) Until then, look for me hidden in the background on future blog postings. I'll be sure to say hello.

Sitting Pretty

Lydia sat up yesterday! In the past, when one of my children reached this milestone, I scrambled around to snap a picture. This time, I decided to just sit still and enjoy the moment. This turned out to be a good decision, because seconds later I had to soften her fall as she slumped over to the side. Later on in the morning I sat her up again to take these pictures.

Just before the fall.

Isaac decided she needed some help and came over to take care of her.

I love that he takes it upon himself to take care of her.

I am amazed that just six short months ago, my baby girl was a tiny newborn.

I love you Lydia!! I'm so excited to watch you grow. Take your time before learning to crawl, at least until I have time to baby proof.

The Power of Advertising, Band Aids, and Hot Glue Guns

I'm linking up again to Julie's blog this week about things I've learned in the past few days. In my life I always seem to be learning new things, as the giant burn on my thumb is reminding me while I type this.

1. Don't try to hot glue something while pointing the gun in the air. This will avoid a giant glob of hot glue landing on your thumb, and then doing the crazy dance while trying to rip it off your burning flesh.

2. A Barbie Jeep will survive heavy rain. (I think. I'll tell you for sure next week.)

3. A toddler is not tall enough to be seen over a grocery cart. Remember this so you don't knock him to the ground if he happens to step in front of it. (Again, sorry Isaac.)

4. A Toy Story, Barbie, or Hello Kitty Band Aid immediately heals any wound, no matter how microscopic.

5. Allowing your children to start watching SpongeBob, or any other station other than PBS or Disney, will result in several requests for whatever item they see in the commercials. Your five year old may even explicitly tell you that the only reason she wanted that kind of cereal is because "that bee is so silly on tv."

6. Pop Tarts sold at Sam's Club state on the box that the product is approved for use in public school nutrition programs. Enough said on this topic, unless you would like to see smoke pour out of my ears and flames shoot from my mouth.

7. When picking out pottery to paint, be sure to take note of the price tags, or else you may end up spending twice (or more) than you thought you were going to be.

8. Your three year old looks adorable in pigtails, leaving you wondering why you hadn't been fixing her hair like that long before now.

9. Don't let your kids improve on their game skills with hide and seek, or it will backfire on you when you truly want to hide.

10. Children who have an internal alarm clock that goes off at 6:30am will inexplicably turn off that alarm on the ONE DAY that you need them to get up at such an early hour. (Why, oh whyyyyyyy.........)

For other things that people learned this week, go on over to Julie at Inmates.

Elusive Perfection

I'm not sure exactly why I'm about to post this picture, except to say that if I were to see this image in someone else's house, it would in a wierd way lift my spirits to see that someone else is imperfect like me. I seem to live with a subconscious belief that every other young mother's house is spotless 24/7. And why exactly do I believe this? Think back to the last playdate you had at your house. How much time did you spend cleaning beforehand? Especially if that mother had not been to your house before? In my case, not only will I try to make sure my house is spotless, I will even reorganize closets on the slight chance that someone will need to look in there. I act as if my home is a model house up for sale. I have in my head that every other mother, including the one coming over, lives in a spotless home nearly every second of her life. But unless this elusive, perfect mother has given birth to robots, I should know this is not true. I work throughout the day keeping up my house, cleaning to the best of my ability while still  maintaining a life outside of Pledge and bleach. But perfection is always just out of reach. I wake up in the morning, determined to maintain and end the day with completely clean rooms, no laundry to be dealt with, children engaged with their mother all day long, and no project left undone. Which means I go to bed disappointed. Every. Single. Night. And I'm sick of it. So, here is a picture I took the other day, just five minutes after the kids and I had completely cleaned and organized the playroom from top to bottom.

I am not exaggerating in the least. Seriously, this is what my children can do in five short minutes. And that is ok. That is ok. That... Is... O... K...

Let that sink in. It's ok that my children play, and have fun, and make a mess. It'll get cleaned up. And it will get messy again. And so will the kitchen. And the laundry. And the unmade beds. It's all fixable. And cleanable. Because one day, I will have a clean, spotless house, 24/7. And there won't be fingerprints on the wall. Or peanut butter on the ottamon. Or crumbs under the table. There will only be memories. Of the time when my children were small, and laughed, and played, and made messes, and reminded their mommy of what really matters. And it didn't include Pledge. Or bleach. Or even, perfection.

Kindergarten Tears- Advice Wanted

I became teary-eyed at church this morning. It had nothing to do with the fact that I left my six month old in the nursery for the first time, or that I was overwhelmed managing four children in four different classes/nursery rooms. It had to do with walking away and leaving my oldest daughter Brooke in Kid's Church. She was promoted a few weeks ago to the school age class, and so there are a lot more "big kids" around her. On this particular morning I could tell she was nervous because she couldn't find a familiar face right away. I saw a friend of hers out of the corner of my eye, and brought Brooke over to her. My baby girl was visibly relieved, and settled into her seat. Yet I immediately choked up. I flashed backward in my mind to all the times I was scared as a child, looking for a friendly face, and then I flashed forward to next month when she will experience the same emotions. I walked away quickly before she could see my face, and then let the tears flow at the nursery door while dropping off the baby. The sweet nursery workers thought I was crying about leaving Lydia.

As much as I know for a fact that God will take care of her, I can't imagine walking away from the school on that inevitable day in one piece. So I am asking my blog-world friends with school age children- how did you do it??? I can't think about it for more than a second or even drive by the school without the tears welling up in my eyes. She will always be my baby, and I am viewing the school system as a loss of her innocence- as the start of pain and hurt from bullies, and possibly even worse, her friends. I'm even more scared that she will be going through pain and I won't know about it because she won't tell me. I always tell her she can come to me about anything, but is that enough? So I ask, in practical terms, how did you do it? Submit your story in the comment section below, and I may use your story in a future blog post.

Wonderfully Ordinary

It happened, finally! A picture with all four of my children looking into the camera and smiling. The one and only other time this has occured was on Valentine's Day, when Lydia was still a newbie. Bill was able to snap this pic on the steps of our house this evening.

Today was so much fun, though somewhat unexpectedly so. Bill was scheduled to work this weekend, and I ended up taking all the kids to Sam's Club by myself. It sounds like torture, but it was actually- dare I say- fun! Everyone was in a good mood, no one cried, and I only knocked one child down with the grocery cart. (Sorry Isaac.) Then, all five of us came home, ate lunch, and took a nap. ALL of us. I woke up two hours later and wasn't sure if it was morning or evening. Glorious. After my dad stopped by to play with the kids, Bill came home and we traveled a half hour north to paint pottery. Here are some pics of our artwork.

Here are the finished products, before they are put in the kiln.

I'm thinking of hanging the plate in my dining room -unless it doesn't turn out as well as I hope it will, in which case it will be used to serve food.

We rounded out at the day at Chick Fil A. Once home we were surprised to be able to view fireworks from an upstairs window. I love days like today, so wonderfully ordinary. The kids are now tucked into bed, and Bill is sleeping soundly beside me. I've said it over and over, but it is so true- thank you God for all you have given us. Each and every day is such a gift.

Four Smiles

Because it is still yet to happen, I started out Independence Day determined to get a good picture of all four of my beauties. As soon as I had everyone dressed, I started to snap away. Here is the first picture I captured of the girls.

Next, we added Isaac to the mix.

While pictures with his sisters isn't on Isaac's list, there are many other things that make my children smile, as the rest of our day clearly demonstrated. Here is what made my girls grin ear to ear this July fourth:

Manicures at a local spa for little girls,

a picture with mommy,

and daddy too,

and eating pretzels from Auntie Anne's.

So what makes my sweet little boy smile? Obviously not getting a picture taken with his sisters, as he has clearly demonstrated over and over. Instead, we can get a grin from him while sitting on a tractor,

drinking lemonade,

and spending time with daddy.

We ended the day at my parents' house watching fireworks on their back deck- some of us, that is. My dad held Lydia inside the house, and Isaac went in and out of the house, unsure how he felt about all that noise. Madeline asked if the fireworks would break the sky after Brooke made a joke about Chicken Little. She then fell asleep before the finale. All in all, we had a great day celebrating our independence, and giving thanks to those who have sacrificed their lives for our freedom. I am way more blessed than any girl ever should be, and am excited to see what the rest of this year will bring. 

Goodbye Kitty

Ever since Madeline had her Hello Kitty birthday party last year, she has talked about her next Hello Kitty party. At first I gently tried to change her mind, but then I got used to the idea. I thought it was pretty cute that she loved Hello Kitty so much she would want the same theme two years running. (Ok, so maybe a small part of my liking the idea had something to do with the fact that I already had leftover decorations from last year.) Then, last week, she hit us with a bombshell. While reassuring Bill and I that she still loved Hello Kitty, Madeline informed us that next month she wants a My Little Pony party. In her own words: "I've already had a Hello Kitty party, and I love Hello Kitty, but I've never had a pony party and I love ponies and so I want a pony party, not a Hello Kitty party."

So, while Hello Kitty still has a prominent place in the house- which is a good thing since I'd already ordered a bathing suit, t-shirt, and dress online in her honor- next month I will be planning a My Little Pony party. Meanwhile, here are some recent pics of Madeline with her beloved Hello Kitty.

Nursing Hello Kitty in the car after church.

I should make her a nursing cover.

Hello Kitty gets her own waffle in the morning.

She will be such a good mommy one day.

Madeline makes clothes for her. Here she is displaying a bow she made for Hello Kitty out of construction paper.

I know that one day Hello Kitty won't ride with us buckled up in the car and join us at bedtime prayer. I'm enjoying this stage in my little Madeline's life, and her little feline friend will always be welcome in our home.

What I Learned This Week

As a mother of four small children, there is always a learning curve. It seemed to be an extra big curve this past week. In a nutshell, here is what I've learned:

1. If you and a friend decide to take six small children to the local swimming pool, call ahead first to make sure they are open. Otherwise you may waste nearly an hour getting kids ready, only to arrive and realize it's closed for a swim meet. I mean, really? The one time out of the entire summer I am brave enough to attempt the pool with the kids??

2. You should make sure that all your children's toys are put away in the garage when parking the SUV. This will avoid the catastrophe of running over a beautiful pink tricycle that you had envisioned your third daughter riding next summer.

3. Make sure the battery in your children's Barbie Jeep is well charged, unless you want it to die midway on the walk through the neighborhood. At the bottom of a hill.

4. Make sure your three year old uses the bathroom before taking a walk past the neighborhood's new home construction. Otherwise you may find yourself explaining that a stinky porta-potty is not an option while she is crossing her legs ready to pee her pants.

5. Pack diapers for all non-potty trained children so that your six month old does not end up wearing a size 4 diaper.

6. Don't expect watching fireworks with four small children who are up two hours past bedtime to go exactly how you planned. Of course, that should go without saying.

7. Before spending several hours weeding your yard, make sure that's exactly what you and your hubby both concluded would be the best way to spend your time.

8. Don't get too excited over an iced mocha from McD's. Chances are you will spill it all over the laundry room as you trip over preschoolers super excited over their happy meals.

9. Ending lists in an unrounded number bugs my sis-in-law blogger Julie. You can find out more about her OCD tendencies at her blog, From Inmates to Playdates.

I Can Do Anything

I have the privilege of knowing that I can do ANYTHING. I gained this sense of empowerment after delivering four babies into this world -two with pain medication, and two without so much as a Tylenol. Let me tell you- though each experience was exhilarating, beautiful, and a moment I occasionally wish I could relive- having a human being exit your body through an ever tiny space is excruciating. Even if you have an epidural, the recovery after is enough to make you take pause and have some not-so-favorable thoughts about Eve eating that fruit. I've never had a C section, but from what I hear from friends, it too is a massively painful recovery. Why do I bring all this up? Because I have to remind myself from time to time that if I can go through all that pregnancies and deliveries have to offer, I can do anything. Anything. Including changing a massively explosive poopy diaper on a tiny changing table in a gross public restroom. Without vomiting.

I have many poop stories of which I gracefully will spare you. Let's just say one of the worst ones was dished up by my beautiful girl Madeline at 9 months old on vacation, and she can now legitimately say, "That tastes worse than poop!" Or, "My hair looks better with poop in it!" My most recent experience was with my darling girl Lydia. Bill and I were able to get out for a rare date night, even if it was with our youngest alongside us. She is still nursing and not yet old enough for overnights at Grandma and Pap pap's. We were at a local restaurant having a great time talking about future vacation plans when I smelled something that didn't exactly remind me of the yummy enchiladas I had just ordered.

I whisked Lydia away to the bathroom, locked myself in the handicapped stall with the changing table, and then (not exagerrating in the least) swallowed back vomit. The smell combination of the restroom and her diaper was just about more than I could handle. I took her clothes off, and realized a new entire outfit was going to be necessary. As well as washing my arms up to the elbows. After going through every baby wipe I had, I placed the diaper out of her kicking reach. Good idea, I thought. Until it rolled. Onto the only spare outfit I had for her. It was at this point, with a naked baby, my messy arms, and no clothes for my child, I had to recite to myself: " You've given birth. Four times. You can do anything. Including this." Because all I wanted to do was to relax at the table with my love, eating enchiladas and talking about anything other than poop. So I looked into the sweet eyes admiring me, clueless to the havoc she was causing, and inspected the clothes. Thankfully her shirt was spared of the poop, and I so I dressed her without pants. I did my best to clean up the mess behind me, washing each arm one handedly (still not sure how I accomplished that while holding a baby) and then joined Bill for the rest of the dinner- knowing that yes, once again- I can do anything.

Painful Miscommunication

Over the past few weeks, flowering weeds have overtaken our front yard. Bill is usually in charge of the "outside things", but lately his time has been consumed with building our backyard deck. So, last night we had a discussion in which I told him that  it really bothered me that the front yard didn't look as nice as it could, and I asked what we could do about it. After a 2 minute discussion, I walked away with this conclusion: that there was some expensive yard feed we could buy, but his preferred method would be to hand-weed the yard.

Waking up motivated this morning, I took all four kids outside at 8am so I could get started. In nearly five hours I only stopped to feed Lydia and lay her down for a nap. Brooke would make quick runs inside the house for snacks and drinks. Ironically, during this time the neighbor's lawn service came to maintain a beautiful picture perfect yard. I came very close to walking across the driveway and hiring him on the spot, but instead I buckled down and kept right on, one weed at a time. I finally had to quit for a break and feed my hungry children at 12:45pm. Here is what I was able to accomplish in that amount of time.

Not too bad, right? Especially considering the lawn is less than a year old.

Now here is what is left untouched thus far in the front yard:

According to my own estimates, this leaves about, oh...another 10 hours of physical labor. Though patience is something I struggle with, I tried not to be frustrated, and instead happy with the progress I'd made while simulaneously entertaining four children. I even sucked up the fact that my fingers were red,swollen, and throbbing, and that I had small cuts and a painful rash all over my forearms. Yes, I had worked hard and should be proud of myself. Then, I had a conversation with my love. And I tiredly told him what I did this morning. And his response? "Oh, did you not want to buy the lawn feed?" what did he just SAY?? Seriously? Did I just waste nearly five hours outside for nothing? Apparently, even after nearly twelve years together, and seven wonderful years of marriage, we had two completely different conversations yesterday. He re-explained that he was actually fine with buying lawn feed, but that he had just made a comment that if I wanted immediate results (he knows me well) that the only solution was to hand weed. Bill reassured me that my work wasn't necessarily for nothing, but my balloon of motivation was already leaking air. Fast.

I don't know if this job will be completed or not. I'm all for some good exercise, but back-breaking outdoor work isn't usually my preferred way of spending my time. At any rate- we are on our way to a good-looking lawn, sooner or later. Now it's time for a hot shower before one of my angels wakes up from a peaceful napping slumber. Does anyone have any Icy Hot by chance?