Coming to You from Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, and Michigan

Guess what . . . go ahead, guess!

I? am blogging from the car. As in, while driving down the highway. OK, technically I'm not the one driving, but still. I don't really know why I find this so amusing, but I do. I totally should have stolen borrowed an air card from the IT department a long time ago.

Anyway, a few weeks ago I found out I needed to make a trip to good ol' Michigan. For some reason, Mr. Husband thought it would be fun to join me. So we have packed up the whole crew and are making a quick run up and back. I don't know exactly why we think it's a fun idea to spend 12 hours in the car with two dogs and a toddler for what will be, at most, a few hours out of town (most of which I will be spending in meetings for work), but whatever. Here we are, about to cross from Ohio into Indiana before we drive straight North.

If I hadn't been so enamored with the basic ability to get online while moving 70 mph, I would have been live blogging this spectacular event. As it is, I shall be so kind as to provide a review.

- Cinnabon? I hate it. With the fire of a thousand suns. I saw the heavens open up, I heard angels sing, and I felt a moment of sheer unadulterated bliss when I saw a sign for the joint somewhere back near Cleveland. It took some coercing, but I managed to convince Mr. Husband to make an unscheduled stop only to find that Cinnabon was closed. At 7:00. I don't know that I've felt this kind of disappointment in my entire life. I might cry. Real tears.

- The first hour we were on the road, I was reminded that we shouldn't take the dogs anywhere. They suck in the car. Jasmine, in particular, has tempted me to "accidentally" push the window button and "accidentally" help her stick her head out a little too far out. She seems to have decided it would be a good idea to roll around in some form of animal pee at the park today. It was all good until we were trapped in a small moving box with her. Now I can tell you she stinks more than the fact that my laptop batter is going to die in just 16 short minutes. BOO!

- I really, really, really wish I would have had the camera ready for the moment when Alexis realized she was going to get to enjoy her portable DVD player in the car. I don't know that her face has ever lit up like it did in that moment when she recognized its case and determined that it represented hours of Signing Time viewing pleasure. She's a happy camper.

- Speaking of the happy camper, she took a break from staring intently at the tiny DVD player screen to eat a piece of pound cake from Starbucks. I'm thinking that there might be something wrong with the fact that she kept breaking off a piece, eating it, shoving her hand in the Bulldog's face to get it licked clean, and then repeating the whole process all over again. Mr. Husband and I briefly considered breaking up the germy party, but then reconsidered because the toddler? She was happy. The Bulldog? She was happy. It would be stupid to interrupt that. (This is where you nod and agree and refrain from telling me all about the horrible diseases dogs can transmit to kids, mmkay?)

I'm Asking a Widdle Favor of Y'all

One of my absolute favorite reads is Jayna over at My Longest Year. Alas, her longest year is finally coming to an end. Her husband is coming home after 15 months of service in Iraq. That's 15 months that he spent serving our country (no need to get into whether anybody agrees with the war in the first place, thankyouverymuch), 15 months he spent away from his wife who I would gladly sacrifice a month's worth of chocolate to meet because she rocks my world with her sarcastic wit, and 15 months away from a little girl who is now 11 months old. Do the math, peeps, and tell me this little family doesn't deserve a whole round of "Welcome Home!" comments.

Go. Do it. Please?

(Thank goodness Jayna just moved far enough away that I know she can't reach me when she throws heavy objects at my head for this.)

When You're Scatterbrained and You Know It, Go Random

I have too many ideas floating around in my head and can't seem to focus on just one, so I bringeth the randometh updates:

- Alexis has made it a habit to sleep though the night in her own little bed on the weekends and loudly meanders into my airspace on weekdays. You know, the days when I have to get up by 6:30. I'm going to pay her back for it by giving her first born child a professional drum set for his or her second birthday.

- The stupid ants continue to be a problem, albeit nowhere near as bad as last year. Despite my widespread use of drastic measures, I'm finding one or two of the little jerks crawling around in our house every day. Of course, along with those one or two lively ones are five to six dead ones, so I think that means I win. Sort of.

- A mother truckin' worm had the audacity to taunt me yesterday by poking its self out of a hole in the new aquarium. It was a big guy and I would have LOVED to have donned the gloves, grabbed the tweezers, and smashed his little booty. The only problem was that he (she? it?) was about 1/2 inch from the icky, ugly, nasty, gross, ucky brittle starfish. That starfish creeps me out far more than the worms (it's in there because their good scavengers and do a decent job of keeping the tank clean, functionality over beauty, baby) and my hands, even with gloves, absolutely positively will not be going that close to it. Stupid genius worm.

- I chuckled a little bit at Sandy's comment on yesterday's post that she was impressed that Alexis sat still that long for the daffodil photos. Heh. I can suggest that the Toddler sit in a particular spot, just like I can suggest that Mount Rushmore be moved to Alaska. Trust me, Mount Rushmore will move before that kid just sits around and lets me take pictures of her.

What really happened is that I went over to our hillside to take photos of the daffodils. I'm hoping to do a half decent job of keeping a garden diary this year, even if it is all in the form of photos. Of course the crew saw what I was up to, and all butted in like the self-centered creatures that they are. Alexis, for her part, was squealing, "Ook, Mommy, flowers!" while gently groping their delicate little blooms. I decided to use it as an opportunity to photograph her widdle hands since I'm obsessed with them. All told, she might have sat there for 37.6 seconds. Mr. Canon is a Rock Star of a camera and will take photos really really fast, so he captured a few dozen during that 37.6 seconds. When Mr. Canon does sweet things like that, it makes me want to make out with him. And hide my undergarments in his case.

Why, yes, Meg is a photo whore.

- Reminder: If you haven't entered the contest, get moving! If you have, go do it again! There are two prizes up for grabs and there will be choices involved with those prizes. Since I'm in a pleasant mood, I'll even give you a hint to one of the choices (shhh, Karen, don't tell!).