Mean Girls

So I've reluctantly gotten into this Facebook craze. Trust me, for MONTHS I resisted. Several of my seasoned friends (we don't say "OLD," we say seasoned) had been relentlessly bugging the crap out of me to "get a facebook." I have had all kinds of rational reasons why that would never happen - people lose their jobs, there are some people I probably don't want to find, etc. etc.

I finally bit the proverbial bullet about a month ago while doing a "routine sweep" of #1 Son's page. Yes, the kids are on the computer (Facebook and MySpace "respectively"), but the rule is that at any time C. or I can have them log-on to their account and turn the keyboard over to us so we can read everything. Hey, when they pay for their own high-speed connection, they can plead "privacy" issues. Call it our checks & balances system.

But I digress...

So I was on #1 Sons account one night and I looked up several of my old...uh, seasoned friends. Turned out that this Facebook thing is pretty cool. So I joined. I added like 6 friends (the people who had been pestering me to join).

Within days, I had all these friend requests from former high school classmates. How cool was this?!

"Oh, I remember him! I haven't seen him since graduation, how the heck is he doing? ADD."

"Man, I haven't seen him since our 15 year reunion! We should catch up! ADD."

"It's her! He were such good friends in school - us against the world. Too bad we grew apart! ADD."

"Yay! She was so popular in school and I loved that she always made time for me. Add."

"Wow. I didn't know that she even knew who I was. Add."

"Yeah. She never really spoke to me during our whole 3 years in HS. add."

"Um...she was a witch to me for three miserable years. Why in God's name has she now added me as a friend on Facebook? ...add...I guess."

"Dear Lord, you were the snootiest, most hateful, stuck up chick (with the biggest hair) who only wore designer clothes and looked down on 98% of us....Uh...Ignore."

My friends, I hypothesize that the number of "Facebook friends" that the "popular High School crowd" has, directly correlates with how miserable and insecure they are in adulthood. It's all about quantity rather than quality. But then again, hasn't it always been?

Expanding Our Family By A Daughter

Oh Dear Lord NOOOOO!!!!

I'm not pregnant. If I was, you would have read about it in my local paper (or have seen it on your local news on a slow news day). I would have made Greg Louganis proud with my header off the tallest building downtown.

No friends, it looks like we might become an "emergency host family" for a foreign exchange student. A sweet girl who happens to be on #1 Son's crew team, had the proverbial rug pulled out from her last weekend. Her host family suffered a "crisis" and she was put out (long story, but suffice it to say that I have no sympathy for the "crisis."). Her only options were...well, the bottom line was that her only option was to go home early and lose an entire year of school. For something that was not her fault. Suffice it to say that we thought, "what if it was one of OUR kids in the same situation? What would we want?"

So here we are. Apparently our references lied and said nice things about us.

This poor kid. She might actually be joining our family for the next 2 months! Allah help her!

Bozo

Me: Why do you waste so much time and energy (not to mention products) straightening your hair on rainy days like this?

The Daughter: So my hair doesn't look like yours.

As If I Can Keep Track

So we get this big Birthday invite via snail mail. There's a return address - no name. It's for some child's Birthday. OK, that narrows it down.

It's a 2nd Birthday. Too young for one of The Baby's classmates. Hmmmm.

The name is Chloe. No last name. No details at all except a date, time and location.

Who the heck ARE these people? Who is this child?

Warning: Potty Talk Ahead

So The Baby is almost completely potty trained. It's about time, too, because he's almost 7. Not really. He's only 3 - it just feels like 7.

#1 Son looked at me tonight (as he was being shoved out of the bathroom to the tune of, "Get OUT Bubby, I have to potty!") and mouthed "FINALLY!"

I pointed out that while I am completely thrilled by the recent turn of events, it *IS* a bit sad. The kid IS my last baby after all.

Without skipping a beat, #1 said, "Awww. Don't worry Mom, soon enough you'll be in diapers."

Oh yeah Smart Mouth? Guess who's going to have to change them.

HA!