I need to stop sleeping with my cousin.

WHAT? GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER. I'm from VIRGINIA, not WEST VIRGINIA. But now that I've gotten every really weird pervert out there stalking my page, I'll continue.

For the past week or so, I've been in Wilmington, Delaware, "helping" my cousin Kate pack up her stuff. By "helping", I mean "sitting around while Kate packs herself", because Kate is VERY particular about how this place gets packed up, and my carefree "every box is marked MISC" style of packing doesn't interest her. So when I ask what I can do, she says "sit there and look pretty." Done.

Since Kate currently lives in a one-bedroom in Wilmy with a couch that really isn't made for sleeping, I have been splitting Kate's bed with her. Any of you who have ever split a bed with me knows that I'm actually a pretty easy sleeper, save a few fights with the sheets in the middle of the night. I don't usually steal the blankets, and if you need me to push over for some room, I do so. I talk in my sleep a bit, but I don't snore.

This "good in bed" (mind out of the gutter again, please) trait must have come from my father's side, because Kate is NOTHING like this. So without further adieu, I present...the most prevalent traits in the modern day BED - HOG.

1. Stealing all the blankets.
When Kate rolls over to her side, she very adorably grabs a fistful of covers under her chin and rolls with them. So cute. Except for the fact that after she does it once, Molly's uncovered.

2. Molly fell off the bed.
Yes, you read that right. Thank GOD I'm the shrimp of the family, because two tall people probably could NOT fit in the Queen-sized bed. I start out most nights on my half of the bed, and as time progresses, my half gets smaller and smaller. If I'm lucky, at about 4 am, I usually wake up to discover that I'm teetering dreadfully close to the edge. If I'm not, I wake up at about 4:15 after hearing a thud of my body hitting the floor. Fortunately, at this point, the bed is just a mattress and box springs on the carpet, so it's not far to fall.

3. The snuggler.
My cousin is so stinkin' cute and loving, she hugs in her sleep. You who know me know that I'm not a big hugger, but I'll be the first to admit that I'm a snuggler in bed - with the right person/dog/stuffed animal. I don't, as a rule, snuggle female humans or anyone related to me. As I said, I'm from Virginia, not West Virginia. My cousin, however, instinctively snuggles whatever's in bed. Including her cousin. How exactly do you push your cousin/bestest friend off of you at 3 am without offending them? It's such a delicate balance. All I know is that she ain't never sharing a bed with my husband. For that matter, Mav, you're never allowed to either, because you do the same thing.

4. The crankiness.
If you wake certain people up from their slumber to avoid their subconscious advances, get some covers back or claim a postage-stamp-sized space on the bed, just take my advice...be careful. They may get violent or yell at you. Because in their mind, they have a natural and human right to snuggle whatever creature is in their bed, take all the room and leave said creature bruised and freezing.

I heart my cousin, but I'm SO looking forward to having my own bed again. In all seriousness, though, moving is going surprisingly well. We've got a few good men helping us out (yep, we brought in the Marines. Well, two in particular...) and we should be packed up and out the door on Sunday. No one's cried yet, and hopefully we should be in our new house on Monday.

Charlotte, NC: 60 hours, 3 margarita pitchers, one playdate and one REAL date.

I'm back in Virginia now after going to Charlotte for a few days, where I saw the lovely Holbrook Family. Had a great time, which I'll attempt to elaborate on here (sorry, my blackberry barely got out during the trip). I got there Sunday night, drank some wine with Meghan and chatted for a few bajillion hours, and we tried to turn in early. We went running Monday morning with her neighbor and friend, and I could not make it as far as they did, with about 200 yards left, I promptly...threw up. It happens when I run in heat - without fail. Yes, it was hot, we ran at 6:30 am and it was already at least 90 degrees in the shade. So we took the kids after breakfast and clean-up to the Air Conditioned field trip - the mall. We had lunch at Nordstrom Cafe, then went home for quiet time. Played after quiet time, played some more, ate dinner, played some more, and Matt got them bathed when he got home. At this point, we decided to fix Mollyritas and Meghanritas. With no MAJOR meltdowns (that I could detect), we clinked glasses "to bedtime"...Meghan went upstairs while they were mixing and read to and tucked in the kids. While I was downstairs cleaning up (I always feel like bedtime goes smoother with fewer out-of-routine things happening, so I let mom and dad do their thing around bedtime), I realized:

Kids are effing EXHAUSTING.

I said the same thing to both of them after they came back down: I don't know how you do it. Yes, they're great kids, are very cute, very fun to play with, very entertaining, and all that fun stuff, but seriously, you have to watch every second of everything they're doing. I knew this already - I mean really, I've babysat since I was old enough to pick a child up and our family is still bigger than Angelina Jolie & Brad Pitt's little group home, so I got lots of experience - but I suddenly remembered things like the fact that you've got to pee with the door open, that naptime is just as important for Mom as it is for kids, and that there is nothing faster than a toddler going towards danger when adult backs are turned. While I was cleaning up every night, all I could think was this: it was EASIER than the normal routine - we could divide up the labor with me there helping Meghan - and they have to get up and do this AGAIN. EVERY DAY. I love kids and would love to have them, and I know that it's different when they're your own, but I'm always amazed at the world's most effective method of birth control - kids.

So Monday was all kids day, and Tuesday was looking to be the same - Caroline had a friend come over for a playdate, Meghan and the playdate-Mom and I chatted while we kept six eyes on three kids, alternating man-on-man play with a pure Zone Defense style of supervising. I got the feeling like playdates are also just as much for Mom as it is for the kids. We all had a lot of fun (pretend hot-dog party!) and the playdate left shortly before lunch. I thought we'd end up repeating the same sort of routine as Monday, but...

Molly got a dose of the single life again.

Meghan had said over the past year or so that she wanted to set me up with Matt's friend from college, and we had sort of "met" over facebook already. He called Meghan's house and came by right before quiet time, and he and I went out to lunch. Had some Mexican food, chatted, checked on his car that was in the shop (he had a rental) and he dropped me back off at the Holbrooks' a few hours later. We made some plans to do something later that night, and after the kids ate some chicken nuggets for dinner, he came back, picked me up, and we went out for a light dinner. A good time was had by all (well, I can't speak for him, but I had fun), and I went back to Matt and Meghan's house after we had some beers at the pub and got some sleep.

I left reeeeally early this morning to go back to Lynchburg, (I didn't want my departure to mess up their morning routine and I had no idea what traffic would be like), took the wrong turn FOUR times because of a lack of sleep (I kept driving South instead of North - Freudian slip?), turned my rental car back in, got into my mom's house and PROMPTLY passed out.

I had a great time all in all, and I'll post some pics as soon as I can locate a cord. I was really surprised at what a nice city Charlotte is, I was sort of reminded of Atlanta, ten years ago. We'll have to do it again soon, maybe the Atlanta peeps can drive three hours north and I can drive three hours south? Don't worry, Meghan, we'll go hotel rooms instead of you having to put us up.

I still have no idea how they do it...my back is still killing me from picking up a three-year-old and a surprisingly heavy one-year-old.

Off to find Advil.

It ain't easy being green with envy.

I am jealous.

Meghan's husband brought her a milkshake when she was sick.
Colonel Mustard has not brought me anything except for a sock he chewed.

This is not fair.

I have just noticed...

That my 13-year-old sister is not only taller than me, she has bigger tatas than me.

I am officially the family shrimp.

On a side note, does anyone else remember this? When I was living in the sorority house (for all of five solid minutes), the smokers at the house next door (we'll say it was the house that did NOT catch on fire in the middle of the night, it was the other one) did not realize how their conversations carried. One of them was talking about how she was going to get liposuction that summer (it was her birthday present from her parents!) and another was lamenting the fact that she had no boobies and was considering implants. They then SERIOUSLY hatched a plan to approach the lipo girl's doctor and see if he could cut a deal where they put what he sucked out of her thighs into the boobless girl's chest. No, really, they thought it was possible.

That's all, I'm off to the dog park, I looooooove warm weather.

Twitter trivia answer and bonus related Delta Gamma trivia

I've been asked by a couple of random people about my recent twitter entry:

Trivia question: what's the connection between University of Georgia's fight song and mother's day? 06:59 PM May 11, 2008 from txt

Answer?

Julia Ward Howe is credited as being the first person to declare a "Mother's Day" in her Mother's Day Proclamation, written in 1870 as a form of protest against the violence of the Civil War that had resulted in thousands of mothers having lost their sons.

Howe also wrote the words to William Steffe's "Battle Hymn of The Republic", a popular song among both Union and Confederate supporters in the Civil War. Steffe's tune was later used for the University of Georgia's fight song, "Glory, Glory". Had it not been for Howe's words making the tune popular, Georgians might not have ever adopted it as their fight song.

Bonus form of trivia for Delta Gammas: When I lived in Boston, I helped the Boston University chapter out with rush (sorry y'all, I just can't call it recruitment, it sounds so...corporate), and one of their biggest Service for Sight activities was working for the Perkins School for the Blind - Helen Keller's alma mater - about 12 blocks from my old house. Perkins was founded by Julia Ward Howe's father and her children were instrumental in making service for the blind Delta Gamma's official philanthropy.

Yes, I know, my Service for Sight hours were sparse, at best. In retrospect, I wish I had done more stuff like that instead of insisting on graduating in exactly four years. Taking 18 hours and 2 independent studies my last semester was probably the dumbest mistake eeeeeevvvvverrrrrr.

Oprah is stupid when she says she "doesn't like surprises". They're GREAT.

I truly love a few things in this life. Crunchy Cheez-Doodles, brownies, Nicole Miller cocktail dresses, Paige jeans, Country Music and vintage leather jackets are high on the list.

What do I love MOST?

SURPRISES.

If I were an anthropologist I'd argue that the giving of presents - not the use of tools, mating for life, or feelings of love and sadness - is what really sets us as human beings apart from all other animals. Gorillas use tools, dogs can feel love, Canada geese mate for life, and chimpanzees can feel sadness. But humans? We give each other presents. I love getting, giving or even just watching people open presents. At Christmas, I drive myself crazy trying to find presents that delight their recipients upon being opened.

But it's not the element of being happy to receive something that one wants or needs that I like. It's the surprise. I drive myself crazy at Christmas because I want to find something that the person would have NEVER picked for themselves. I think it runs in the family - my uncle Rob (the only other lefty in my family), my cousin Jake and my grandmother all are known for giving crazy gifts that one stares strangely at upon opening - but those gifts turn out to be the greatest things ever. Jake gave his sister Kate got one of those milk crates that collapses and has wheels attached for Christmas one year. While she was a little confused when opening it, that girl has used that thing more often than you'd ever think. A couple of years ago, I gave my brother Parker a most unusual gift. It was a cast iron dog - but just the rear end. Meant as a garden decoration, sit it on the floor and you've got a great piece of art and a nice doorstopper. Parker loves weird stuff, but everyone else in the family was a little ticked off - because I didn't give it to THEM. My older brother got the same thing the next Christmas.

My love of surprises extends to the fact that I detest giving gift cards or cash. I love getting them, don't get me wrong, they WORK and I have bills to pay. But like a true Southerner, I consider it tacky for me to carry around a purse at my wedding, collecting wads of money. Where I come from, you get in line at that damn gift registry kiosk at Macy's like everyone else and look for the biggest item that costs the least amount of money. I have a monopoly on giving trifle bowls at this point. And by the way, I know I owe a few wedding gifts. I'm working on it.

But alas...I'm a January birthday, I'm not even dating anyone, let alone being close to engaged, and if I show up at the Babies-R-Us registry, call the Vatican, because it'll be an immaculate conception. Well, immaculate since a little while back, at least. Unless I go pull a Carrie Bradshaw and register at Manolo Blahnik for being single (which I'm tempted to do at times), I am not getting any gifts any time soon. I can buy myself presents, but that's not a surprise. Plus I really don't have the money to buy what I REALLY want and need.

What's a girl to do?

I found it.

The Something Store.

I am not kidding, and no one's paying me to write this. The concept is simple. You give them $10, and they send you something. You don't know what it is, but what they've been sending out looks to be worth more than $10. Since they want repeat business, I'm guessing they won't send you a dirty diaper or something, but something you might find useful.

So I ordered one this morning. Free shipping and everything.

I'll let you know when it comes. If I like it, I might give people somethings for Christmas.

Why didn't I think of this idea before they did?

An Idiotmatic Expression in the English language.

When a pregnant woman orders a drink that contains all of the elements of a big-girl drink except the alcohol, she orders it "virgin".

This seems stupid.

She obviously ain't no virgin.


yes, I know the proper word is "idiomatic". Quit the hate mail, grammar police.