do you have a minute or 99? take a seat.

I'm dealing with the S L O W E S T internet in all of the first world's land so .... bear with my rosy tones here.

Maybe this will post in 2027 and everyone will be like, "internet? remember when that was a thing?" .. no. The internet will always be a thing. I hope. The most action my laptop has seen these past few days has been playing the white noise from one of my favorite websites, "free online sound machine" and to be perfectly honest with you ... it is killing me not so softly. I know lots of people get some sort of crazy recharge from unplugging and this is probably a very telling sign of a normal and healthy and functioning human. But me? I hate it. Maybe I'm a little bit like Jen or maybe I'm just so grossly reliant on my e-social interactions that I need some sort of mandated sugar detox - hold the sugar, add the internet. All of the stupid internet.

But we're not here to dwell on my addictions (because let's not get started on goth nail colors, homemade coffee ground facial scrub that basically removes the entire dermis, or Gavin Degraw's genius) - nope! We're here so that I might throw a lot of nonsense at you. The usual that you've come to know and silently groan about, I'm sure.

So here we go.

Twice now Julia has started "grooving" (her word for dancing, my word for seizing) and singing, "uh-plause, uh-plause, uh-plause" at the beginning of a song that's playing from my mom's van's radio while we've been driving around. As soon as the refrain comes on I realize. Of course. Of course she would know Lady Gaga's latest single because I am a cognizant mother that has her daughter's best interest at heart. I've never been one to listen to lyrics which is how I justify liking/loving 96% of the top crappy 40 but if she's going to start picking up on the smut that is radio-appropriate music ... we're going to need to hook Sister up with an iPod loaded with Raffi. Or something. My name is Grace, not Sacrificial Grace. My sanity saving van trips loaded with poppy tunes will live on. And on. AND ON.

Things that plague me: our next leg of the trip (starting tomorrow) consists of a trip to San Antonio. Simon has a conference to attend and we're tagging along. I don't even really care about the flights even though I bet they are full full full - they should be relatively quick. Texas is big but New Mexico is rightnextdoor. No, I'm really wondering if the hotel "cribs" will be those insitution-like rolly hospitalesque cribs? If so - it probably won't fit in the bathroom which is where Sebastian will need to sleep. Let me stress the need. Maybe you've dealt with docile toddlers that will just snuggle up in a hotel bed and conk out at an acceptable hour but Sebastian will not. Julia will - after a long chat about things big girls do and requests to "wrap her in" (tuck/wrap are synonymous just like because/whycuz) I should just call and ask if they have pack-n-plays and be done with it and prepared to face the horror music but I hate making phone calls.

I forgot to tell you on one of our flights on Saturday I tuned in and out of the conversation happening directly behind me. It sounded like a lady was telling her seat neighbor all about her grandkids or maybe her kids, "well, he isn't scared of the dark but she won't go downstairs alone unless I get up and turn the hall light on .... " and "oh they love my sister when she babysits them because they get so spoiled .... " and "their favorite food is filet mignon but it has to be marinated for at least 24 hours beforehand ..."

Oh-kee. kids with refined palates?

No. A lengthy listen to the tail end of the one-sided conversation that lasted the entire length of the notshort flight led me to the cold hard truth. She was talking about her cats.

A feline hater I am not but if I ever make your ears bleed for that long while I force you to listen to stories about my human offspring? Yank my vocal cords. Take them all. Forever.

And the blog doesn't count. I'm not holding you hostage on a sky-locked vessel for hours on end.

Okay, that's enough.


Oh! But wait! A storyboard starring my kittens ...

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH < ----- THAT WAS JULIA SPELLING "J"

caps lock off.

okay. that's really enough.