Chatting in list format.

Brynlee, Jace, Brooke & Zayne
A self taken picture by Brynlee

• I’ve done a bit of remodeling to my wee little plot of the World Wide Web over the last week.  I get that bloggy makeover twitch every now and then and without thinking twice I let it control me.  I’m not sure what is misfiring in my brain to make me think that blog remodeling is just a quick evening project that can be done while Spence watches one more episode of Thirty Rock.  But some day I will realize that all those little changes add up to one ginormous headache.  Especially when you have not the slightest of clue as to what you’re actually doing.  I’m still not done.  If you read blogs exclusively from reader then you should click on over and take a peak.  If only to indulge me.
• And while you’re there:  I’ve written a bit about my family on the [family + photo] link and hope to get my [about me] link written and posted before I suffer from that twitch again and decide that spending an unfathomed amount of time trying to figure out how to display less white space between the blog date and the blog title sounds like a good investment of my most precious commodity.
• And I finally added the follow me feature to my blog.  And then I suffered from a severe case of indigestion.  Something about the follow me thing makes me 207 different levels of uncomfortable.  And by something I mean the entire follow me phenomenon.  Why the heck did the people in charge ever see fit to invent a follow me button in the first place.  What does that even mean?  To follow somebody.  And then to do it with a public tally and a big fat black number assigned to your blog.  I put off adding such a button to my blog for a long, long time because WHAT IF NO ONE FOLLOWED ME!  THAT’D SUCK.  And is one’s blogging worth decided exclusively by that follow me number?  Or is there some sort of equation that takes the amount of followers and then divides it by the average amount of comments squared by two - for good measure.  Does the number of your Facebook friends come into the equation?  What about blog content or average spelling and grammar errors {please no}?  I distress.  But anyways, that follow me feature is on my sidebar now.  I mean – you know – if you want to.
• And while we’re talking about blogging:  I’ve been having an internal discussion with me and myself about blogging lately.  Specifically the ‘now, why am I blogging again’ part of blogging.  I’ve kinda, sorta been consumed by it.  Not consumed by blogging, but consumed by the internal debate about blogging.  I’ll let you in on the conversation as soon as the voices in my head stop debating {does that sound creppy?} and I come up with some sort of clear resolution.

• And unrelated to blogging: Jace is rockin’ the whole potty training thing.  And if I weren’t a mother, and wasn’t fully aware of the ramifications of bragging about a child’s success, I would tell you that he is a trained potty-er.  But I am a mother and I know as soon as I admit success I will spend the next three days doing laundry and kicking myself for the jinx.  You know, like that time that you were bragging to your house guests that your children ALWAYS GO TO BED WITHOUT INCIDENT and how you feel sorry for her and her FOUR HOUR LONG BEDTIME ROUTINE.  To only spend the next two hours trying to comfort a screaming child who will not go to sleep.  No way, no how.  Or that time, at the library, that you gave the mother of the bratty, unruly kid that kept hitting all the other children the stink eye because seriously has she no control over her offspring.  And then, before you have a chance to end the glare, your own sweet, and perfectly controlled child has managed to hit a little girl on the head with a dinosaur.  I mean, not like that would ever happen to me, but just for example.
• Like I mentioned, my sister came down for the second half of last week.  We spent her visit catching up on all the things we hadn’t talked about during the last eighteen times we’d talked in the previous two days before her visit.  And then immediately after she left I called her, because I had loads of important things that I had forgotten to tell her during the three days she was at my house.  Sisters are the best.  Wouldn’t you agree?
  



My sisters minus Marie.
And Alan, you aren't half bad either.


• Brynlee opted not to take gymnastics this season.  She watched a few episodes of Angelina Ballerina and was smitten.  She’s decided to instead take ballet in hopes that she’ll put herself in the running to be the next Mosquete ballerina.
• We went to ice-cream last night.  Jace fell asleep on the drive home and I did that little dance number where you say a quick ‘let him stay asleep’ prayer before gracefully tip-toeing your way to their bedroom.  I was completely dedicated to keeping the sleeping baby – sleeping.  It worked.  And then this morning he woke up the most brilliant shade of Farrs play-doh ice cream.  Memo: next time ice-creams on the agenda, pack wet-wipes. 
• Brynlee and I spent the morning at her dentist appointment.  We returned home two hours later with a numb lip, a tear stained face and a cavity yet to be fixed.  Second time we’ve done this.  I tell you what if that chic EVER gets another cavity I’ll be damned.  As will her dentist.