First, Last, and Dora

My Fantasy Football draft has ended and I'm feeling all sorts of dirty. I had the "lucky" draw of first pick. So, Yay! in the first round. But wow does that suck when you get to the second round. With fourteen teams, that meant I got to pick Ladianian Tomlinson in the first round like anyone with a brain would, but I didn't get to pick again until 28. There weren't any good running backs or quarterbacks left at that point. Boo. Eventually I was left with players that I can't stand as my best bet. Enter Plaxico Burress and Eli Manning (my backup QB). I really hope I can sucker somebody into a trade a few weeks in for no other reason than so I can feel a little better about myself at the end of the day. No Catchico. Blarg.

While I was participating in the draft activities, Grandma made it to our house and the spoiling immediately kicked into high gear. I don't really know why Alexis thought she needed a Dora suitcase, a Dora outfit, and two pairs of Dora pajamas, but I'm pretty sure Grandma's were invented specifically to purchase unneeded items for little ones. I mean, what exactly does a one-year old need a suitcase for? So that we can ship her to Grandma's house for a week? Hmm . . . that's an idea.


What Happens When I Can't Think of a Title

This is going to be nice and short because Grandma is coming and I really need to hurry-up and make it look like we know how to clean and pick-up after ourselves. But I can only do that after I have figured out a plan for my fantasy football draft tomorrow. I refuse to lose to a bunch of boys. There will be no sleeping for a while as my priorities are clearly straight. #1--Fantasy football. #2--Clean. #3--Sleep. Actually, Daddy is off tomorrow. He may need to take over on #2.

Updates on randomness:

1. I took my lashes with a wet noodle like a grown-up. BUT, I have not yet completely lost the war. The sky is right where it belongs, so it's just down to a tiny bit more work. It will happen soon, I swear.

2. Alexis is a tattle-tale. She was yelling "Jasmine, no!" earlier when the hairy one was up to no good.

3. I can't give an update on the over-priced aquarium because I refuse to jinx us.

4. Daddy has been living in a box for the past few months and just now heard this for the first time. Now he won't stop freaking singing it. Somebody needs to put me out of my misery now.

5. This is from the Pittsburgh Children's Museum. It's a see-saw that makes air bubbles in a water wall when you go up and down. This would be the one and only time that I've been OK with Alexis' really fabulous ability to make gas travel through water.


Finding Joy in the Pain of Others

1. Picture the scene . . . I'm walking out the front door on my way to the car. I glance over and see this neighbor in his front yard with his hose. He has one white knee sock pulled all the way up; the other hovers just above his laced black shoe. His Richard Simmons shorts cover just enough skin so that I'm not blinded, but his worn until thin t-shirt makes evident that he is turning into a hunchback. He's turning knobs both high and low trying to turn on the water. For some reason, the hose refuses to yield said water. He turns more knobs. He slowly draws the hose nozzle to his face and peers inside the tiny little holes. He turns another knob. Water sprays all over his face. I speed to the car, mouth covered, and close the door so that he cannot hear my laughter. I fight the urge to jump back out of the car, run over to him, and laugh in his face. But I really, really wanted to. I deserve a cookie, no?

2. Daycare has reported that Alexis now feels the need to ask "Who's that?" each and every time she sees a person. I can tell you that she already knows every one's name; I've heard her say many of their names. The fact that there was a tiny bit of annoyance seeping through the teacher's voice as this was reported leads me to believe that somebody needs to grow some thicker skin. I think I find enjoyment in somebody being so easily annoyed. Actually, I know I do.

3. Last night Alexis was watching Signing Time while Daddy cleaned the upstairs bathroom (Yes, women, my husband cleans bathrooms. Stay away from him--he's mine.) It got to be time to switch to the Steelers game. Listening to them yell at each other "It's Signing Time" "It's Steelers Time" "Signing Time" "Steelers Time" "Signing Time" "Steelers Time", well, that's just plain good fun.