Utterly random, boring facts

I am sitting next to a basket of laundry which is taking up more room on the couch than me.

I have just put Tater Tot back in his bed for the 6-1/2th time. (The 1/2 time was when he had finally burned off the brownie and put himself back in bed but kept calling, " 'mon Mama" until I followed to give him his 7th set of goodnight kisses.)

Little white paper circles are scattered all over the carpet and coffee table: The entire contents of the 3-hole punch.

My neck keeps spasming.

I am addicted to daily planners, appointment books, and notebooks.

Brownie is still active. Tater showed up again then charged up the stairs in front of me saying, "'eat you, 'eat you..."

I love Obama but I am very tired of seeing his face on TV (although it's still better than that other guy.)

My bag collection may have, for the first time, exceeded the shoes - a malady I must quickly remedy. (I must take this opportunity to state my opinion on designer bags and the ridiculous, sickening amount of money women spend on them - it is ridiculous and sickening. What kind of society are we living in that women feel the need to hang their money (i.e. debt), taste (i.e. unoriginality), and trendiness (i.e. shallow materialism) off their shoulder, and deem it so important that they will actually rent it? The most expensive bag I own cost $45 and that seemed extravagant. I will now dismount my high horse.)

I own one of those stars that everyone has on their houses and garages (I bought mine before anyone else); it is hanging in the stairwell.

Ten times a day I write a sentence in my head that never makes it to paper (or back into my head - or even to the tip of my tongue).

Today I found myself explaining to a young mother that no, the Incredible-Hulk-green "Bug Juice" is not real juice.

Tater will not accept any drink, food, or service from my hand if my husband is within walking distance: "NO! Daddy do it."

My children have been known to fight over whether their oo-ah-ahs are of a monkey or an opera singer.

My name has been officially changed to Tater's and Little Lady's Mom (that's Mrs Tater's Mom to you.)

I still have all my teeth despite the lack of dental intervention.

Clothes don't fold themselves (but do appear to scatter themselves across the floor.)

I haven't drawn a portrait in over 3 years.

I haven't sung with a choir since I was 3 months pregnant.

I have now lived in the U.S. a decade longer than in my homeland.

I'm terrible about downloading pictures off my camera (oh, you hadn't noticed?). (Probably because I can't figure out how to do one or two pictures at a time - it always downloads all photos in the camera. Frustrating.)

I'm running out of fascinating tid-bits (and I really need to go to bed).