All a-flutter

As the B's would say, Happy Valentimes Day. The current state of my living room looks like valentine's threw up all over the place. I attribute that to too much candy. Notice how I'm talking to you instead of cleaning up that disaster. Moving on...

(I've also just noticed an onion behind the computer... I'm very confused.)

Going through my head at this very second is the following:
I wonder how to upload pictures on my blog... could I do that from my phone?
It's a little chilly in here, not that I'm complaining. It's almost 70 outside and this morning I was literally cooking I was so hot, so the A/C is up and kicking.
My dogs need a bath. And a haircut. And probably tons of other stuff that I don't want to think about right now.

(great, now my eyes are stinging because I know the onion is there. That's not cool.)

Boudreaux has basketball practice tonight. I MAY just work out while we're there. I'm not sure I'd count on that though. I AM actually working out now. I bet my Wii Fit is stunned with all the use it's been getting. Feldie and I are thinking about getting an Elliptical Machine for his birthday. I'm currently devising ways to keep the B's off of it. Buttercup tried out all the machines at Academy last weekend and got in the car and said "whew! I lost weight!" I wish it was that easy.

Last night, Buttercup had a spa night. Bug was not happy about it and decided to forgo our attempt at potty-training. *sigh* I worry some about Buttercup being the middle child. You hear all this conflicting stuff about middle-children. Feldie is the oldest in his family. I'm the youngest/only. My sisters are my half sisters and 9 and 11 years older than me. They also lived with their mom primarily. It's an interesting, though I'm sure common, dynamic. When I see them or talk to them I get to play the youngest sister role. When I don't, I act like an only child. I can happily read and not notice that there isn't anything to "do". So between Feldie and I, we have Boudreaux and Bug covered. He's been the older brother. I've been the youngest sister. But neither of us have been the middle child. So, in an effort to give Buttercup some Buttercup time, we had a spa night. We did a hot oil treatment on her antenna to try and tame the wild curls. I taught her how to wash her little face with her very own face wash. We did a sugar scrub on our hands. We put mousse in her curly antenna and very carefully dried it. Then she got a lotion massage. She was a happy B. She's decided she likes pampering, although when I told her that "pampering" meant "being taken care of" and she told me she was pampered every day because I always took care of her. She made my heart smile. Bug, however, was not pleased to not be in on the pampering. Maybe one day I'll have a spa day for her, but at 2 I'm not sure it would be appreciated for what it is. Now I want a spa day. Like a REAL one. A facial (which I've never had and I'd love to try!) and a massage (of which I've had plenty and I LOVE.) I'm not the hostage who likes pedicures, and my nails are real, so it doesn't make sense to pay for a manicure as I am capable of washing my own hands, thank you. Not that I'd turn it down. Well, the pedicure I'd turn down. As much as I like to have my feet rubbed (during my massages.) I don't like any of the other standard pedicurey things.

I've suddenly run out of things to say... That was an interesting experience. So I'm off to fold clothes. I'm down to just sheets to wash, (hooray!) but that always means more laundry is about to miraculously appear. It's like rabbits in there. It just multiplies.

Thank Goodness for central hive heating!

ALRIGHT! I know! One would think that somewhere in the past 6 months I would've found the time to post something. For Pete's sake. (and really. Does anyone know who Pete is? Other than being Betsy's friend? you know, Betsy. From Heaven's to Betsy? yeah, that one.) Now that you're thinking about something else and have forgotten any irritation from my bad blogging skills, we'll move on.
(and I blame my non-blogging on my phone. I do everything from my iPhone. "Everything" meaning Facebook, games, talking and the occasional e-mail check. And e-mail is lower on my list than blogging, believe it or not. Count yourselves lucky. All 2 of you. You too, random reader. Lucky, lucky readers.

In the past 6 months, my random meter has been fairly even. Which is a little sad, as I count on randomness to keep me sane inside this hive. My two oldest B's (Bourdreaux and Buttercup) buzz off to school every morning and buzz back in the afternoon. They are bus riding B's, in case you're curious. I have yet to figure out what takes so long between the getting-on-the-bus and the being-deposited-in-front-of-the-house. The school is 4 blocks away. TOPS. Yet it takes Buttercup 15-ish minutes to get home and Boudreaux takes 30. grrrrr. It wouldn't be so bad if I didn't have to wait outside on the bench on the porch of the hive. But they are flighty little B's. If I'm not out there staring at them when they get off the bus, there's no telling where they'd end up in addition to the massive amount of trouble they'd land in. But it wouldn't be good, I can guarantee you. Baby B, aka Bug, tested herself right out of speech therapy a few weeks ago. I'm about to change her name from "Baby B" to "Babbly B" because she finds a topic and she's off and running. She and Buttercup also have started to share the bed. Which would work out fine if we could trust them to lay there and go to sleep. Instead, Buttercup goes to sleep on her side of the bed, Bug goes to sleep sprawled out on Feldie or I on the couch and then gets carried to bed, which leads to lots of tripping on the little girl B accouterments and straightening Buttercup out because she's a bed traveler. Between the two of them sleeping every whichy-way, it's a wonder they don't both wind up on the floor.
Boudreaux and Buttercup play basketball on an Upwards league. (it's a church league. The rules drive me insane and while I get it, I don't get it.) Feldie is their coach, which translates to him coaching two teams, which translates to two nights of practice and my Saturdays being shot. They're pretty decent at it, which is surprising. Both of them have had to try to control themselves. Boudreaux is an aggressive little B when it comes to sports. Buttercup, who is actually the aggressive B in life in general, strangely isn't when it comes to games. She'd rather do cartwheels when she thinks no one is looking. (or maybe it's a strategic distraction move.... I wouldn't put it past her.) One time, in one game we saw her get MAD. Lucky for that kid, he was bigger and a smidge faster than she was because she had plans to catch him and bap that ball off his face. (I say "bap" because I'm guessing that's the sound it would make. Which would be incredibly entertaining for me, but I'm sure it's frowned upon.) Feldie and I were (probably inappropriately) proud that she got mad. I'm also thinking, this is probably the last season she'll play. Instead, we've got her in gymnastics (so she can be a flippy B) and softball, which I've just realized will make her an armed B. She'll have a bat. She has fairly good aim, as evidenced by the time she hit one of my mother-in-laws (I have 2) in the face with a lime. That's a long story. I'll sum it up by saying my mother-in-law was swimming, she came up for a breath, Buttercup had been checking out the lime tree, threw it at just the right second and wham. Right in the kisser. (well, in the forehead, but still.) Everyone kind of froze. (and mentally awarded the appropriate amount of points. We randomly give out points. I'm giving you points right now, and when I tally them all up, I'll notify you if you're a winner.) Everyone got points that day.
Lately, in my Southern situated hive, it's been crazy weather-wise. We've already had 2 snow days, which is unheard of, and more accumulation than I've ever seen. Today it went from chilly to downright bitter in a matter of hours. Since my particular brand of B's don't hibernate (darn it), I'm extremely grateful for the central heating in my hive. (she says as she sits at the computer wrapped up in a ridiculously comfy and well priced blanket from Target that was on clearance.) I don't mind the cold and the occasional snow. I just wish it would PICK A SEASON. It's chilly, it's warm, it's raining, oh look snow!, it's bitter. For Pete's sake. (hey look. There's Pete again.) It's enough to drive an already a little unbalanced hive hostage BATTY.
My birthday was at the end of the year. Which makes me... another year older. In age. I've noticed that maturity doesn't necessarily come with age. I may be as old as I am, but I'm still unconcerned with how others view me and therefore act younger. Which can be a good thing or a bad thing, I guess. Buttercup had a birthday, so she's a 7 year old B. Boudreaux and Feldie's birthdays are fast approaching, which will turn them into a 9 year old B and the same age as me.
This was kind of a boring post, wasn't it? I'd forgotten how much fun I had blogging and being able to voice my observations the way they're actually formed in my head. I'm going to have to get back into this! With any luck that means I'll post more often and not wait another 6 months.

Oh, and a big Welcome to my Superfriend's newest addition. Which makes 4 little ones in that house. (she doesn't have B's. She has another species altogether. A little aquatic species.) She's a marvel and an inspiration to me and I wish we lived closer. This hive gets stuffy!