Why the Glitter?

Well, here's why. If you're in the greeting card aisle and you're looking for a card, and there's one with glitter and one without glitter, obviously you're going to go for the one with glitter! So, I figured the same principle might apply here. If you're looking for a blog to read and you find one with glitter, you might be more inclined to read it!

As I am a first time blogger, it may take a bit to work into a blogging groove, that will keep all you readers rivited and longing for more. So, for today, I am just going to paste a note that I posted on my facebook page earlier this week. Enjoy!

I have three kids. All girls. And, as I am sure any honest parent on the planet would agree, they tax my mental moxie to the utmost. I rarely get a moment to myself these days, and yet on the gloriously rare occasion that I do, I find myself thinking the strangest things. I call it “down time”. As in - the server is down, and clearly everyone has gone home for the night, or is on coffee break, and this is all we (your brain) could come up with.

Here’s what goes on in “down time”.

I like to run words through my head, and add the letters ERY to the end of them. Turning “them” into “themery”. I think this started about the time I began going to the midwifery to have my third child. Kids make you do crazy things anyway, and I think that with each pregnancy, “down time” is compounded and begins leading you down the bright and shiny path to nonsense - or - nonsesery. I can’t stand the word midwifery. It ought to be hyphenated so as to keep the long I in “wife” instead of turning it into the short I that makes it say “wiff”. So to prove how ridiculously silly it sounded, I began adding ERY to regular words. However, my mind, being so super-saturated with more important things, like wiping butts and finding Barbie shoes, found the ERY game amusing and now it is kind of the screen saver game my head does when nothing else is bombarding me. Bombardery. Annoying isn’t it?

But, I’m not the only one to add letters to words for one reason or another. I’ll bet almost everyone at some point in their life has added SCHM or some variation of those to the beginning of a word, in order to NIX the word they said right before it.
For example, “Hey, Jon, you need to come over here!”
Jon says, “I can’t I have to go running.”
“Running SCHMunning! You can go later!”
See that? The SCHM apparently makes such a mockery of the previous word, that it has to hide in shame and become undone. Which makes me wonder, does this translate universally? Of course, it doesn’t work nearly as well with words that already begin with SM, like small, which would make it schmall, because then you would just sound like you had a speech impediment. Either that, or you’re doing a really awful Sammy Davis Jr. impression.
I digress.
What I want to know is does everyone accept this SCHM rule? If you were, say, on the Floor of the NY stock exchange and were holding…. Holding….holding…..SELL! But oh crap! As the words leave your mouth you realize you didn’t want to sell, could you shout out “SCHMELL” Immediately and completely undo the sale?
“Ha ha. Can’t count it. I said Schmell!”
Just wondering. In my “down time”.

There’s another phenomenon that happens more frequently than I’d like to admit in “down time”. It’s elevator music that is apparently directly linked to the “system not responding” blank out moments that are way too frequent. Here’s how it happens. All day long I’ll have tried to make a mental note to ask my mom to
1. Watch the kids on Friday night so I can go to a movie, and
2. To come over on Sunday for lunch.
So I’ll tell myself, “Don’t forget to ask mom those 2 things. You should e-mail her because you might forget when you‘re on the phone. Don’t forget those 2 things.” So, finally, when I sit down to e-mail her, and please keep in mind this is not “real time” playback. By the time I actually sit down to do this, I’ve done a load of laundry, made lunch for kids, fixed a few owies, de-puddinged children etc., - there’s been other things happening.
So, I sit down and write:
“Hey Mom, I was wondering if you can watch the kids on Friday night so I can go to a movie, and also………………………………....” and here comes the music. Da da da da dum doo do doo de dum. I kid you not. And usually I imagine it being “doo-dah’d” by some soft French lounge singing lady. Don’t ask me why she’s French.

I also have running “down time” which is when I’m on the treadmill, and don’t have any music to listen to, (I mean on my Zune - I don’t think I ever run out of elevator music) or if I’m running outside. I count. But, I don’t count 1,2,3 etc, on to infinity. No. I usually just suddenly become aware that I am counting and usually it is around the numbers 16, 17, 18, 19 and I find that I am repeating the same four numbers over and over again. 16, 17, 18, 19. Don’t ask me what will happen if I ever get to 20. I think subconsciously I am afraid the Apocalypse will ensue. Either that or my little “down time” buddies up there just REALLY like that sequence. Sequencery.