Almost a compliment...

Well, I thought I was going to escape the yearly birthday insult from Natalie, but no such luck...

Natalie: "Happy Birthday Mom! You're special in 32 ways!"
Me: "No, 33 ways."
(long pause)
Natalie: "Oh. 33? You really are old."

And if that wasn't enough, Nathan has joined in. Monkey see, monkey do, I suppose...

Nathan: "Happy Birthday, Mom! You're getting reeeeaaaallllly old, right?"
Me: "How old do you think I am?"
Nathan: "I don't know. Old."
Me: "Just guess. How old do you think I am?"
Nathan: "Hmmm... Like 12?"

So, two almost-compliments, two-half insults and the day is still young. Unlike me.

Who doesn't love a good birthday insult from their firstborn?

September 21, 2009: "Happy Birthday, Mom! Are you going to die soon? Are you going to walk with a cane soon? Mom, when are you going to have puffy white hair? Mom, how many years 'til you're 90?"

September 21, 2010: "Happy Birthday, Mom! You don't look THAT much older this year..."

I can't wait to see what loving comment she has for me tomorrow...

If Abraham Lincoln had a stalker...

Natalie was picked out of 25 fame-hungry five-year olds to be Abraham Lincoln in her kindergarten parade. That's where the obsession started...

You'd think someone with such an obsession would have a better handle on what he looks like...

• She saw a picture of Charlie Sheen online and said, "Hey, look! It's Abraham Lincoln! It's not? Well, it must be his brother then."

• Then she saw President Obama on TV and said, "Hey, look! It's Abraham Lincoln! It's not? Well, it must be his brother then." 

...and a better idea of how to spell his name...

...and perhaps a better grasp of how long ago he died (or how old I am?)...

After reading a biography of Abraham Lincoln with her, I told her I had been at Ford's Theater when I was a kid. She said, "So you were there when he was shot?!" Yes. I witnessed the assassination of President Lincoln 146 years ago.

But last year, after hearing this monologue...

"We don't have a president, all the presidents are dead. What? We do? Who is he, what's his name? I thought all the presidents were dead. Abraham Lincoln is dead. Will I be president? How much will it cost me?"

...at least we know who we'll be voting for in 2040.

Dinner request or ransom note? You decide...

As soon as Natalie learned to write, she started passing us notes. Over the years I've compiled quite a collection, but this one -- her very first note, written when she was five -- is my favorite by far. She slipped it to me while I was making dinner one night. I was expecting a ransom demand to follow.

Comments from a king on his throne...

Last month I walked by the bathroom and from behind the closed door, I heard Nathan saying, "I'm king of the world! I'm king of the world!"

Last week, he told Greg "Dad, I went potty like you... with a book and for a LONG time."

And this morning he told me, "Mom, I can control how fast my pee comes out. It's like a button on a remote control!"

And on that note, I'll just say... "Boys are beyond the range of anybody's sure understanding, at least when they are between the ages of 18 months and 90 years." --James Thurber

Man, I spend an hour writing this thing and now I have to think of a title, too??

Well, I've been a blogger for all of 42 hours, and I'm feeling about as lost as my Grandma when she tries to order coffee at Starbucks. Seems like an easy thing, right? Ordering coffee? At Starbucks? No. She spent about four and a half minutes looking at the menu, then asked the barista, "So, do you serve coffee here?" True story.

But back to my blogging cluelessness. At the risk of sounding like my mother, I've always been about two steps behind on technology. We didn't have cell phones until 2008, we didn't start texting on said cell phones until 2010, we just got our first laptop 2 months ago and we still (maybe you'd better sit down for this) have yet to buy an iPod. In fact, if you'd like to make fun of how 20th century we are, Natalie asked for an iPod last Christmas and we got her a Disk Man. Yeah, I know, we're about a decade (or two?) behind on that one. So being behind on joining (and figuring out) the blogging world is just par for the course, I suppose.

So. What's my point? I don't know. I guess I'm just trying to come up with an excuse for how someone living in 2011 can have this much trouble figuring out a simple thing like adding the "blogs I follow" list to my page (seriously, took me an hour...). I think it's safe to say, though, that the not-so-tech-savvy apple will stop falling at my branch of the tree. Natalie has been asking for her own facebook page since she was five (so that "I can get credit for all the funny things I say, Mom!") and now that she knows I've started a blog, all I hear from her is, "Mom, I want my own dot com, too!" That girl has a lot to say, and, thanks to social media, a lot of ways to say it.

Come to think of it, maybe I should just have her do this for me. I'm sure she'd catch on quicker than me.

Well, here it is. I've been fighting every one who says "come on, write a blog or better yet, a book" for a few years now, but when Greg says "This could be our ticket to financial freedom!" ...Well, how can I argue with that? Oh, I remember. I tell him he's crazy. I procrastinate a few more months. I think of every excuse imaginable as to why I can't write a blog. Then I give in.

Really, I know these blogs will be little more than glorified facebook status's. At worst, read only by Greg and my mom; at best, a good way to record the things my kids say while they're young, funny and still actually speaking to me in complete sentences rather than grunts and eye rolls.

For my facebook friends, a lot of these stories might be repeats at first, which is one reason I've resisted starting this. Why write a blog when I have a facebook? I'm still not sure myself. But like Greg "Master of the Pipe Dream" Harmon always says, they won't make a sit-com of my blog if I don't write one.