Very few things get under my skin. Seriously I’m like the easiest going person I know. I’m not bragging, it’s just the truth.

Everyone knows I hate the stick-figure family decals on the backs of cars.

And improper use of grammar drives me absolutely bananas. You’re equals you are. Your equals YOUR. Why must we keep having this conversation?

But those things aside, I feel like I need to spread this message.

Stop using LOL.

I’ve never been more serious.

If you LOL me there better be something terribly wrong with you. As in you’re about to die.

In fact, I’ll put this out there. Let’s just agree that if you use LOL when communicating with me (via email, text, blog comment, whatever), you’ve been abducted by terrorists and are being tortured. That will be my cue to dial 911.

Because…and I don’t mean this the wrong way…LOL is about the dumbest thing you can say to someone. While I appreciate that whatever just happened made you LOL, the bigger picture is…I don’t believe that you actually laughed out loud. I’m not trying to be a dick, I’m just KIR (keeping it real).

When texting became popular a few years ago I think I said something like, “Let the transformation from personal relationships to robotic responses begin!”

And here we are with our LOLs and our OMGs and our ROFLAMOs…and all those other stupid impersonal capital letter groupings that make me want to punch someone really hard in the face.

I can’t be the only one who feels this way. But in case I am, just know that (not always but in this case) I’m right and you’re all wrong.

To recap: LOL is a mayday call and ONLY TO BE USED IN CASE OF AN EMERGENCY.

(I wonder if President Obama has to deal with these kinds of difficult issues or if it’s just me)

Knock-knock.

Who’s there?

Me, who’s been stuck at home for the past two days with two sick kids. I’m about to lose my shit and I need a good place to hide for a few hours. Are you going to open the door or am I going to have to kick it down? I’m strong enough you know. I’m an ex-gymnast.

….

Hello? Mom?

We’re not home.

I can’t wait for the day my kids come back (after moving out) and I can pretend I’m not home. What must that be like? I’m guessing it’s pretty awesome. But also kinda mean. And yet, it’s marked on my calendar. Yep, in the year two-thousand-and-twenty-five I can officially not answer the door if I don’t want to. But wait, let’s think about this. In 2025 I’ll be (41 plus 13 equals 54) fifty-four and I’ll probably be knee-deep in Alzheimer’s and forget where I put my calendar and I’ll just open the door and let them in. This plan sucks.

Anyway, it’s true about being at home with sick kids the last two days. Their symptoms are fever and achy bones. What is that disease? Because Dr Google diagnosed them as having either Dengue Fever or a yeast infection. I’m beginning to wonder where Google got his degree because he’s kind of an idiot.

But just because I’ve been at home playing nurse maid to the sicklies (which includes fetching them water and changing the channel on the TV for them after every half hour because they’re too weak to press the button on the remote for which I’m not at all losing my nurturing spirit OR my patience) doesn’t mean I haven’t gotten anything done. Oh I have, mister.

With the help of my good friend, Jen, my home is now organized.

See what we did in the pantry.

And then we moved to my closet and bathroom. She’s a genius.

If you entered the cutest muffin pan giveaway, you’ll remember I said I would announce the winner on Tuesday. Well, since now it’s Wednesday I guess it’s as good a time as any to tell you that Sara (comment #49) WON!

Thanks to everyone who entered. Be on the lookout for the next giveaway!

Also, HELP ME……..

Last week my good friend, Jen, was here helping me organize my life. I wrote and posted about how she transformed my pantry, but she also had awesome ideas for all the other spaces in my home.

For all of you non dis-organized people out there, these tips might seem like no-brainers. But trust me, there are those of us roaming the planet (LIKE ME) who need direction. I’m that person who looks at a pile of scarves and thinks, Oh great. What am I supposed to do with THIS?

I dragged her to my closet and pointed at all my shoes. Shoes that I don’t wear often (because if I’m being totally honest–I wear tennis shoes or flip flops most of the time) were taking up too much space.
She came up with this brilliant idea.

Clear bags (MADE FOR SHOES!) that slide under the bed. I never would have thought of this.

Those scarves I was referring to? Are now neatly folded and residing in a clear box. And under that box? My evening/going out bags.

My kick around shoes were always getting in my way because I would just throw them and where they landed, they stayed until I needed them again. Now, they’re hanging neatly ON THE WALL. Who knew people did this with stuff?

Closet. Neat and organized.

I used to keep my makeup in a large canvas bag. Everything was just thrown in and I never knew what I had, what I was getting low on…and the worst part…I could never find my mascara.

Now, I keep everything organized in a three bin snap-tray thingy. (That’s not its official name, so don’t ask the person working at Target where they keep the three bin snap-tray thingys is–you’ll get a funny look)

The top bin holds the makeup I use every day. And I haven’t lost my mascara since.

The middle bin holds cleansers and moisturizers.

The bottom bin holds makeup I use occasionally.

I love having everything in its place. It gives me a sense of calm in a crazy world. And I love that Jen helped me find my calm place. She’s good people, that one. Even if she did suggest we organize my refrigerator. After I stopped laughing I said, “Have you met the little shit heads who live here? If we organize that fridge they’ll have it so EFFED UP so fast your head will spin right off your head.”

And I can’t have that. Because I’m going to need her to come back this time next year and re-organize everything that I’m going to accidentally un-organize. Some people are just like that. I’m not perfect.

Disclaimer: I was not paid by the Jelly Belly corporation for this video review. Because if they *HAD* offered to pay me I would have been fired.

Yesterday marked a pretty big milestone for me. My first born turned 18.

And throughout the day I experienced a range of emotions that went from elation to depression to excitement to sadness–and a whole other smegma of feelings in between.

When I asked her what kind of cake she wanted, she answered with the answer that only my kids answer when asked this question. A rainbow cake.

And I was grateful to have something to do (bake a cake that’s somewhat time consuming) other than focus on the fact that I was now the mother of AN ADULT.

I had two options.
A. Write about my feelings.
B. Show you how I make the rainbow cake.

I chose number B.

Here’s what you’ll need.

White cake mix
Food coloring
Frosting of your choosing

After mixing the batter according to the directions, separate (equally) into five bowls.

Add a different food color to each bowl. I chose to do red, blue, green, yellow, and orange (by mixing red and yellow)

Stir stir stir stir stir. Until it looks like this.

Pick a color, any color, and spoon it around the pan. I do five dollops at a time. Then do the same thing with every other color, over and over again, until you’re out of batter.

It’s best you don’t lick what’s left in the bowls unless you don’t mind walking around the next few hours with a brightly food color stained tongue.

After baking, it should look like this.

And then a little while later, it can look like a clown vomited all over it. You know, if you decide to go that route.

When you cut into it, it actually kinda sorta looks like a rainbow. It’s magic.

Happy Birthday, Presley. It sucks that you’re as old as you are because that means I’m older than I want to be. Thanks a lot.

My good friend, Jen Bradshaw, was here for three days. The plan was to get me organized. This girl has mad organizing skills and I was going to take full advantage of it. And all I had to do in return was provide her an endless supply of Diet Coke. Seriously, you’ve never seen someone drink so many in a day. Well, besides Mike Spohr. Jen and Mike could be on the Olympic Diet Coke drinking team. And win.

Anyway, one of my major problems was the kitchen pantry. I’ve always known how to keep it in order, but that entailed throwing everything away and just eating out every meal. That seemed less than convenient AND way less economical.

Because I’m an idiot I forgot to take BEFORE pics. But that’s OK, just imagine a really dysfunctional, disorganized space and you’re there.

Here’s what the brilliant Jen did to my kitchen pantry.

The basket on the right holds all the drink things. Coffee, coffee filters, Carnation instant breakfast drink, tea bags, cocoa mix, etc. The basket on the left houses rice and pasta. Canned goods are neatly organized so I know exactly how many cans of cream of chicken soup I have.

The basket on the left holds crackers. Period. We have a lot of them. Obviously. The basket on the right is for cookies, organized by priority. That’s why the Thin Mints are in front.

We added a lazy Susan for things like honey, peanut butter, and Nutella.

A large silver bucket keeps the chips within easy reach.

Basket o’cereal.

Two-tiered pull out medicine basket. Genius.

Two-tierd pull out snack bin. The kids think I’m a god.

I call this the baking shelf. The basket on the left keeps the nuts, chocolate chips, and marshmallows in check while the basket on the right holds everything else needed for baking–flour, sugar, baking soda, vanilla–you get it.

Lastly. Cups, napkins, and plastic ware, all in its place.

When Jen’s job was done we stepped back and gazed upon the glory that was my pantry. We swooned. We smiled. We admired. Not a minute passed when my 16 year old daughter walked into the kitchen, looked in the pantry and said, “It’s too bad that by Monday the little kids will have that place looking like a tornado came through here.”

I hate when she’s right.

Can I lock the pantry door so they can’t get in there and mess it up?