Resolutionary.

Wow.

Wow.

That's all I can say.

Well that, and, "you all really want me to read some books," which I am most thrilled about I have to say. So many of you emailed me and said that you, too, were writing down the suggestions and were headed straight to Amazon.com or Barnes and Noble - whichever was closest. So glad I could be of help. Who says that Stretch Marks isn't changing the world? It is. This is living proof. Mommas everywhere will now have something to read when they close themselves in the bathroom for one hour every afternoon, yell "Mommy's tummy hurts - she needs to poo. Don't climb in the oven!" When she is actually sitting on the side of the tub reading.

You're welcome.

And might I add, you all haven't turned out this much for me since I asked you some tips on how to clean my house in 27 minutes or less.

And this tells me two things: Y'all think I need help cleaning and that I need to get smarter. (Note: It's dangerous leaving a sentence that is grammatically improper on a blog because no one knows if you meant to do it in jest or if you really are that needin' to get smarter.)

So in the spirit of gaining knowledge and getting my house in order...

(Insert fancy segue here)

How about those New Years Resolutions?

So those things just keep coming back around, don't they? I really thought the whole "resolutions" things had picked up steam in the late 80's but would surely - surely - fizzle out by 2002. But nope. They're still here. And they're everywhere I look.

I haven't been able to walk 3 feet without seeing Denise Austin right in front of me. Which isn't to say that her workout videos are being sold everywhere, but rather that she is, in fact, stalking me.







And wouldn't you? Doesn't every hunter want that big buck to hang up in their office so that everyone who walks in will say, "Wow, hunter, you got the big one." Well, that's why Denise is eyeing me. I'm the buck. The trophy. I'm the 8 foot turkey that legend only talks about. And she wants me. Hanging over her mat. In some hardwood, glassy-walled studio somewhere that spits out tunes like "Shake Your Love" and C & C Music Factory.

It's too much for me to even think about. So I won't. Moving on.

In the spirit of resolutions AND strengthening your marriage the Attorney General and I decided that this year we would write each others resolutions and then read them to each other. So in other words, he wrote five resolutions for me. And I wrote eight for him. It was a great idea.

He wrote things that he felt would make me like an overall healthier, happier, more fulfilled person. I wrote eight things that drive me nuts and I wish he would stop.

He has suggested I work on finishing my Masters up this next semester.
I have suggested he work on not breathing so heavy or talking to me during The Bachelor. (Shout out! Tonight! 7pm! Holla!)


I thought it was a great idea. In fact, I came up with it, myself. He doesn't want to do it next year (don't ask me why).