Before the squirrels gnawed them to hell and the the rain eroded what was left

I know it's not as visible as I hoped but this crazy ass scary clown skelton thing was a level four in difficulty. LEVEL FOUR, people. Please God, let the boy be out of his bad guy obsession phase before next year. Maybe on to his minimalist pumpkin art phase by then. It's totally possible. No, it is. Right?

I know this will shock you, but I free-handed this one. Admit it, you were thinking: WOW! What a stencil! Weren't you? I call it "WHAT THE--?!"

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In case you care (and it's totally cool if you don't...honest)

I got eight hours of sleep last night. OK, more like 7-1/2, but still. It feels good.

I didn't notice a big difference when I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled toward the coffee maker, but I was struck by how much more patience I felt I had when I was throwing the child, his backpack and fourteen rocks, Transformers and various show-and-tell treasures into the backseat of the car.

Look, I'm good under pressure. It's probably why I was a journalism rock star in college (being the sports editor of the yearbook without knowing a fekking thing about sports and without displaying the tiniest hint of athleticism outside of King Cobra slamming counts makes one a rock star in that regard, right?) and probably why I've somehow managed to stay employed as a writer on so little sleep all these years.

Or maybe it's not that I'm good under pressure. Maybe it's that I've somehow made it work. Maybe, just maybe, I could be better on a few more minutes -- or hell, let's shoot for the moon here -- hours of resting the frenzy in my mind and keyboard-crazy fingers.

So now I have two cell phone alarms set for tonight to get me back into bed at a decent hour. I'm not afraid to set two or three or seven if that's what it takes. Clearly, clearly, getting better is the goal and getting sleep is the first step in getting there.

As I buckled the boy into his car seat, I told him I slept more last night and I feel so much better for it. He gave me the advice he always gives when I complain about being tired or feel the impact of sleeping like a normal human being.

He said, "Mommy, all you have to do is close your laptop and run and hide under the covers from your work."

Once again, the preschooler becomes the master. Then, just to show off his sageness, he added, "Mommy, when your blog finds you, tell it you need a break and go crawl back under the covers. TELL IT THAT!"

Hear that, blog?! Hmm?

Thanks to the lovely and loving CrazedParent for this bit of sleepspiration.
 

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My very own Jesus and Mary Chain

You know where a good place to buy fancy ju-ree is?

Why, yes! The grocery store!

Ding Ding Ding! You get a Wet 'n Wild blush in a supposedly earth-toned color that you've never seen on this planet and with a completely unusable little brush that you will feel compelled to keep anyway!

I couldn't help but capture a photo of this precious accessory planted in my new favorite little Christian part of the sundry aisle. What? Is Jewel now the place where lovers of Amy Grant -- excuse me, El Shaddai Amy Grant, definitely not post-Vince Gill Amy Grant -- like to get their God-rockin' goods? Really?

Every time I need cold medicine or cotton swabs or an organic mango, I can swing by and see the Jesus pick and dream of my own fantasy career as a head banger for the Lord. I would buy the necklace and carry that thought with me to preschool drop-off and meetings with my attorney but it's $8.99 and that seems excessive. I mean, if Jesus did wear jewelry, I bet it was just out of some cool looking stones he found while he was hiking around with the disciples. Or maybe some distorted shell with a hole in he spotted from his sweet spot on top of the water. I just can't imagine He'd be that thrilled with me for paying that much for plastic and gold writing that will probably flake off once it hits the grocery bag.

But then, to the credit of the artist who was clearly inspired by the Holy Spirit and some Dr. Pepper-fueled night of guitar riff fury at a Seventh Day Slumber show in Omaha, this bit of divinity is made on a "Genuine Guitar Pick."  What more can you ask for of your Christian jewelry?

Especially the kind you find in the fake nail and seasonal clearance aisle.

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