Finally. After counting down on a sticky note on my computer for 60+ days, I am outta here! I realized not long ago that I might not ever have been all that into this job: I never put the parking decal on my car. For nearly 5 years (it’d be 5 this September), I’ve kept the tiny sticker in my car’s center console.

I’ve gotten all my stuff into one box, except for my desk lamp. I’ve tossed a few things and prepared the files for someone else to manhandle. I have one last thing to finish and at the end of the day, so long, folks!

No party, no farewell, no nothing–I think they’re about as glad to see me go as I am to leave. Hey, at least I made it through the summer without getting fired or quitting on the spur of the moment.

Tomorrow, I’m going to the McWane Center with McPantses and co. Thursday, we’re going to the beach for a couple of days. Next week, back to work somewhere else.

I’m full up with funny things to tell you (the boychild laying on my chest while I lay on the couch, propping himself up on his elbows–ouch–and telling me “I like you, Mommy.”) about all of us (McP had a tooth pulled two Mondays ago and knocked out a loose front tooth at riding camp last week–she’s a walking injury lately, just like her mother) from the past few weeks (the Husband, telling me that the female body is a big factory of crazy, when I told him that the night I turned down the thermostat to 65 degrees, I still woke up drenched in sweat in the wee hours–by the way, am I dying of hormones, do you think?) but for now, I am just going to enjoy us.

See you in a few days. I’ll add to the blogroll then, too.

Were you there before? Are you gone now, but still fabulous?

I lost my blogroll in the move and it was my way of bookmarking the places I read. Remind me, will you?

Also, if you just want to list your fave reads, I’d love to see them.

This weekend, I am following one of my big rules for life (the one that says if you want the benefits of family, you must meet the demands sometimes) and going to a big ole hoppin’ redneck family reunion (my family) in parts north of here, Tennessee-wards. YEEHAW!

Today, I made my friend cry, but I had to do it. Just telling her what I had to tell her made me cry, too, though. Between 11 a.m. and 3 p.m., an enormous, life-changing problem with potentially horrible, life-changing results was mostly solved, so I think it ended well.

Happy Friday.

After several months of mild struggling* with the Crabcake, he finally gets this whole bathroom thing. Or, he gets half of it, anyway. It turns out that even a really short little boy might prefer to stand at the toilet instead of sitting down. Who knew?

He told his teacher (Miss Whackie–he can’t say “Jackie” yet, but he gets really, really angry if you say “Whackie” instead of “Jackie” because as far as he’s concerned, he’s saying it correctly) yesterday every time he needed to go to the potty and he came home and demonstrated his newfound ability to pee without missing or ending up with wet shorts, underpants or socks to us several times in the space of two hours. Where he came up with all the pee, I don’t know, but it was like a dog marking territory, except all in the right place instead of going from bush to bush. However, I did promise that he could pee outside after he learned how to go standing up, so I assume the whole bush-marking thing will come next.

He’s very proud of himself, too. Love it.

The girlchild is doing well after having a huge molar yanked on Monday to make room in her overcrowded mouth. I’ve been worried about the awful mouth shot you get before having a tooth pulled, but she got a q-tip of numbing medication, then a snootful of laughing gas and then the shot. After it was all over (in less than 20 minutes), she said she never even noticed the shot. Perfect!

Brave, brave girl. If I hadn’t been sitting in the waiting room next to a friend whose children were having their teeth cleaned at the same time, I would have cried when they took her back for the procedure. McP has been perfectly fine ever since.** She experienced almost no discomfort after she got to discard the blood-soaked gauze when the hole stopped bleeding early Monday evening. She took Motrin that night and once on Tuesday (the babysitter who stayed with her yesterday said McP turned sort of grayish and looked generally unwell about midafternoon and though McP would never admit she felt bad, the sitter thought otherwise) and is back to fun camp today.

Two big kids. One long summer coming to a close. At the beginning of August, we get to do something together that we never have time to put on the calendar because of our jobs. After my last day at this job, we’re going to the beach for a couple of days, just the four of us–our collective paleness should bump up the stock value of the company that makes Coppertone because the amount of SPF 5000 we’ll be sporting’ll be in the gallons.

We’re already starting to think about what we want to do with our extra family time next summer, too. I think a sweet 10 yr anniversary trip might be in the works.

You need these books:

Doodle Stitching, by Aimee Ray, who blogs about life and craft here. Scroll down to her Lydia the Tattooed Lady doll. Love it. The book isn’t out until September, but after spending just five minutes reading on the blog, I knew I it’d be perfect.

Plus, you can buy Aimee’s book together with Angry Chicken Amy Karol’s book at Amazon for a steal. I think Amy’s gotten fantastic reviews all over the web, but I wanted to point out that her lovely book reminds me of the Japanese craft books that are so hard (for me, anyway, because of where I live) to come by: Bend the Rules Sewing is fresh and delightful. It’s packed with tips and photos and swell projects and just allover goodness and, like the Mason Dixon Knitting book, it’s immediately evident that the book’s designer really got the author and her point of view and understood how to make a gorgeous, useful book.

I love it when designers and authors get each other and turn out a good-lookin’, useful book, but I’m also the gal who will test drive a bottle of wine because I like the label.

* The mild struggling came after the extreme struggling, where he’d scream and cry hysterically every time we tried to steer him in the direction of the toilet. When we finally agreed with his teacher that a kid who can argue with you about how he will NOT use the potty probably ready to actually use the potty, we bribed with Skittles.

** Dinner last night? Chicken and rice, with effort. Sauteed onions first and cooked it all together with chicken broth and white wine and tender lovin’ care, especially for the mouth-hole kid, who showed me exactly how well she was doing when she refused dinner because her mouth hurt so much but turned around a few minutes after dinner and requested a few Skittles while her brother was standing at the potty (the Skittles live in the bathroom cabinet now). I can smell a McP lie a mile away–I knew at dinner that she wasn’t telling the truth, but it took an hour before she’s admit that she didn’t like the chicken mixed in with the rice. Goofus.

In either no particular order or in order from worst to best:

1. Number of species whose pee I have cleaned off my floors in the last two days: three. Human (the boy), canine (did I tell you that one of our goldens had surgery for an ear hematoma and that she’s finally recovered enough to lose the massiveheadwound bandages?) and feline (what the hell, cat!?!)

All three decorated the floors yesterday, but today we’re down to just two species’ floor pees, so thank you, cat, for not peeing anywhere I’ve found so far today. I’m relishing my new role as the bleach queen, baby!

The boy is potty training and it’s a tiny bit different than when his big sister learned. With her, pretty much right after she turned two, we took away the diapers, put her in underpants and it was done: thank you, daycare. The boy, however, was two in February, and will only just now consent to sit upon the toilet without melting into completely screamy goo. He’s doing well at school and not quite as well at home, but we have fallen into a nice routine. We come home, he sits on the potty and doesn’t have to go, and he rewards my diligence with pee on the floor within ten minutes after that. We love the routines around here.

2. I got a surprise package in the mail yesterday and when I found it at the backdoor at lunch, I initially thought, what the hell have I ordered and forgotten? Then I saw the return address (The Fabric Fairy) and hefted the box, which weighs at least ten pounds, into the house.

Someone sent me a big ole box of swell fabrics for fun! No idea who sent it, but I’m thrilled and promise to post pics. Swear. HUGE BOX. Thank you, Fabric Fairy!

While we’re on the subject of packages, I got a box last week with bourbon, chocolate, tea and so many other goodies in it, but did you see the first thing? Bourbon!

Coming soon: a very diverse list of reading and what I love about Amy Karol’s book. I am a unique snowflake, after all, so why I love it should be preserved for history, don’t you think? Plus, you need to see the embroidery book and the blogging author who’s got me in an anxious swoon because her book doesn’t come out for another month or two.

Happy July. It’s so freaking hot here that every time I venture outside I feel like I’ve been throat-punched by heat and humidity. My little deep south boy was outside in a shirt and Thomas the Train underpants (I have trained myself to stop saying “manpanties” out loud because I don’t want confuse the poor kid) this afternoon watching the lawn dude across the street put the huge riding mower back into the truck. I wasn’t dressed all that much better, either–I came home from work in Brooks Bros and ended up in bleach-acceptable clothes, what with the pee rivers and all. Hot. I didn’t have the energy to hustle the boy inside for pants or myself inside for not-pajama-pants.

I think my job countdown is 14 days now. My new office is miniscule. The little area where I’m sitting to type right now at the back of the kitchen, with my childhood walnut desk and the bigole dog crate, is probably bigger than my office. But I can’t wait.

Ooh! Finally: if any of my real-life friends are reading, hello! If you are ever in my house, I promise, bleach always comes after the pee. Always.

Amuse yourself:

The top 100 SAT words of all time, according to Kaplan.

I love this one. It’s a list of rules for How to Write Good. I have a copy in a notebook.

If I ever have a team on the VH1 World Series of Pop Culture dealie, it will be called “Thanks for getting my undies back, Jake Ryan.”

Thank you and good night.