Couch potato

Jon's return home each week is more often than not about me and my needs than anyone else's. I punched out around 7:00 last night. A 10-year-old can totally watch Grey's Anatomy, right?

Laying on the couch together

Allie: Who is Grey?
Me: The main girl. That one.
Allie: Her name is Grey?
Me: That's what they tell me.
Allie: What's anatomy?
Me: It's, um, uhh...like, the make up of something? Your body parts are all your anatomy?
Allie: So why is the show about that girl's....EW! ANOTHER TURNING KISS!

Four days alone with the three of them and their myriad requests leaves this mother ready to make any inappropriate show suitable for her children. Except maybe not The Hills. That's my secret.

Spring is in the air

Almost every song coming up on Pandora sounds to me like a track from Lucious Jackson's Fever In, Fever Out. Is it because around this time of year over 10 years ago I was listening to this album with my stay-in-IC-over-spring-break Airliner friends? Seriously. Spring does something to me. When the sun shines and the birds sing I feel the instinctual need to put on a long skirt, sandals, a tank top, hook up with friends, navigate rural gravels, and, well... Who's with me? Better yet, who WAS with me.

It's got to be the hedgehog

Welcome to the machine (Final day of NaBloPoMo)

In routine Emily fashion, she sits down to create her personal biographical statement for admission to graduate school, and is happily distracted by Pink Floyd's Welcome to the Machine.