toys

“In my house! In my bedroom! Where my wife sleeps, where my children come to play with their toys. My home.”

~ Michael Corleone in Godfather Part II

My mind is racing all the time or it has slowed to a tired crawl. I miss turns when driving. I forget things. I leave myself voice mails if it's really important because being really important isn't enough to make me remember to do it. I have lists for Work, Home, and Errands. The lists are never shorter than the day before.

I’m proud of myself for getting stuff done this weekend.

Because Saturday was spent celebrating C’s birthday with family and friends, I turned down the opportunity to hang out at the lake on Sunday. With the house to myself, I turned up the music and got to work.

The TNGOP thinks the Governor is playing revenue games:

The TNGOP thinks the Governor is playing revenue games:

Bear threw up in the car and tossed my camera in the river.

Shark is so good unless there is waiting. Then he whines.

You can't just leave the house with kids, ever notice? You have to pack. Just for a short outing. Diapers, wipes, snacks, a couple toys, band-aids, sunscreen, neosporin, tylenol, a change of clothes for each kid, etc... We'll be gone for 8 hours!

I mentioned earlier how she, the youngest in the household, tends t

They look like any innocent item a parent might buy at a retail store for their child, or even resemble a toy included in a children's fast food meal. But they aren't toys. They are cigarette...

According to the global warming hucksters, flat-screen TV's are accelerating global warming.

My in-laws are here with their dog, Jake, along with a basket of toys. Rosie is twice his size, and didn't much care that Jake didn't want to share.