It's 3 am......and You Must Be Lonnnnnnely

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So.

It's 3 AM.

One of my favorite songs by one of my favorite bands, Matchbox 20.

And close to being the name of the awesome band we hired to play at our backyard wedding reception almost TEN years ago. The lead singer looked like Rob Thomas, and sounded like Tracy Chapman when he sang "Gimme One Reason'. We heard them in downtown Orlando many times, singularly before we ever dated, and together, when we dated. We LOVED, LOVED, LOVED them.

Sadly, I haven't kept up with them much since a DECADE ago. I hope they're still around. They were really great. Just the three of them. The singer, the guitarist/keyboardist, and the drummer who whipped out bongo drums every now and again.


These are the kinds of things I think about during my constant battle with insomnia.

Yes, I have been prescribed Ambien and have been taking it for years.

And yes, sometimes it works.

And when it doesn't work, it makes me FRIGHTFULLY creative. Some of my best blog posts and scrapbook pages have come to life whilst I await the Ambien to bring me to slumber.

Yes these are the kinds of things I think about when It's 3 AM.

And these other things too:

• If there are four people in my family, and I have to empty my kitchen trash AT LEAST ONCE a day, how many times do the Duggars empty their trash in one day? Do they have a dumpster at the Duggar compound? Do they have a pig or compost farm? Or, most likely, they probably do not have trash AT ALL. Because from what I have seen from their 'real' home life, they don't have a lot of other things either. Like messes. Or visits from people who aren't named Duggar. Or children with Joker ketchup masks. Or arguments. Lord help me, Michelle Duggar, can you JUST ONCE get mad at your husband, JUST ONE TIME? For any reason at all? Okay, I'm done bashing the Duggar compound. I am fascinated by this show. NINETEEN freaking children. It's funny, but I gauge events in my life by, "I know it was 2002, because I remember that I was pregnant with Reilly". Or, "Yes, Billy, it WAS in 2004. How do I know? I KNOW it was in 2004 because I was pregnant with Jake. YES, I'm SURE." But if I were Michelle Duggar, I couldn't do that. Because for a 20 year span, she could only answer the question by saying, "I know I was pregnant." That would definitely be a safe bet and truest of all answers. Okay, I'm really done now.

• I love watching the freak shows on television. I'm not a CSI follower, or Grey's Anatomy, or any other kind of serial show, because I just can't make that kind of commitment. But goodness, I just love the freaks. It must be the psychology major in me. Hoarders, Intervention, Celebrity Rehab. Love, love, love them. And Jon & Kate, talk about a freak show - Kate Gosselin was an amazing self esteem booster for me. She made me feel better about myself as a wife (WHO talks to their husband like that and gets away with it, and then NOT expect him to regress to an 18 year old? Hello! He didn't leave his wife, he decided to grow up and leave his MOM! Although he has a tremendous amount of growing up to do, nonetheless, I can't find it in my heart to blame the guy.), as a mother, and just as an overall human being. And remember how like twice she blathered on and on about going to church? Yeah, I just don't see it happening. We have TWO kids, and WE get along, and WE struggle with getting to church on time. It's not like it's a theme park, or a crayon factory, or a barber shop. You kinda HAVE TO BE ON TIME at church. Okay, done with talking about TV, next.

• This large room of mine is completely empty. Everyone else is sleeping. Some snoring loudly (FRED), some not. Why is it that the room seems quieter at night, in the dark, than it does during the day, when no one is here but me and there are no noises to be heard? Is this something scientific from physics class that went right over my head like significant digits did on Day Two? Does light make noise? Seriously. Is it a speed of light thing? Like, if light travels really fast, does it make noise? I really do ask myself these questions. Usually when I'm counting things. By seven. And this is not the Ambien talking -- yet. Surely, if you are reading my blog right now, you MUST know that I am a complete and utter whackjob, of somewhat high intelligence, with excellent ninja skills, who once killed a man with....okay, now the Ambien is starting to kick in. But you know I'm a whackjob. That's my point. And if you know the answer to the noise in the light vs. dark, I'm all ears.

• Is it okay for me to tell my daughter that no, she cannot be a police officer or a soldier, because that's what her father and I believe and stand for, or should I be one of those mothers who says "Sure, honey, you can be ANYTHING you want to be." Because to me, that's like LYING to Jake by saying, "Sure Jake, you can be ANYTHING you want to be", when clearly, Jake is never going to be tall. He is 5 years old, weighs 36 pounds, wears 2T pants, and is in perfect health. Yes, we feed him. And yes, his pediatrician insists he is growing. And no, there is no question that he is brilliant like a savant, even though he does the DUMBEST things, and worries us to no end. But if Jake asked, "When I grow up can I play professional basketball?", the answer is absolutely, unequivically, a big fat -- NO. It's just a matter of genetics. "But you could drive a racecar, Jake. If you don't throw up in your helmet, that is." The child has carsickness. It's getting better, but no, you can't be a NASCAR driver if you are throwing up in your helmet every time you get into the car. So back to Reilly. Reilly isn't going to be a police officer. And she isn't going to be a soldier. So why can't we tell her that now? Like the time we watched a National Geographic show about polar bears in the Arctic Circle. And she asked, "Can we go there on vacation?" Uhhhhh....NO! "Why not?" So we gave her a litany of reasons, all of them true, like they don't have hotels there, and you can't fly a plane there, and you can't drive there, and polar bears might eat us, since there are NO people there, and lo and behold there is ONE PERSON LIVING IN THE ARCTIC CIRCLE AND OF COURSE THEY HAD TO SHOW A BIPLANE LAND ON A TINY PATCH OF ICE THE SIZE OF A CEREAL BOX AND LO AND BEHOLD HE HAD A SHANTY OF A HOUSE THAT WAS ONCE FILLED WITH MEAT TO KEEP HIM FED THROUGH THE WINTER EXCEPT FOR THE POLAR BEAR WAS IN HIS MATCHBOX OF A KITCHEN BREAKING APART THE LOCK THAT KEPT THE MEAT SAFE AND GREETED HIM WITH A NEARLY FATAL WELCOME HOME SWIPE TO THE HEAD, and Reilly says, "SEE! There are PEOPLE living there! You lied!", but no, she does not at all see the near-death scene for what it really is, nor does she have the sage wisdom to comprehend that a place where polar bears are breaking into freezers padlocked to keep them out and then try to kill the ONE guy who owns the meat and is the ONE GUY only living on the cereal box sized patch of ice to document the existence of the polar bears in the hopes of perpetuating their survival, cannot be construed as a vacation destination. And then we had to start all over again with why we would never be going to the Arctic Circle to see polar bears, but we could go to Sea World TOMORROW if she wanted to, to see polar bears, but nooooooo this wasn't enough for her, and Billy and I are laughing at her so hard we are crying as to why she is so obsessed about going to the Arctic Circle to see the polar bears, and she didn't shut up until we told her there was no TV in the Arctic Circle and lo and behold we were at CHECKMATE. Which is why we are telling her NOW that she can't be a police officer or a soldier, and other professions I won't mention here so as not to offend any more of my readership than I have either already offended, or will offend with this post, to which she replies, "yeah, I don't want to be a police officer or a soldier." I just don't think you should lie to your children (you know, like we did about the PEOPLE living in the Arctic Circle). We are their parents, we know their skills already, their personalities have already been fully formed (I know this, because I learned it when I got my LIBERAL arts degree, so it must be true), and I was able to swear on a stack of Bibles when Jake asked me, 'Mommy, will I ever be brown?'......."No." and mean it. And yes, we may be in the process of intentionally guiding our children down a certain path towards careers, (notice please that the word CAREERS is plural), that we think they have the potential of loving to do, then finding someone to pay them for it. Currently, we have the Coast Guard in mind for Jake. In case you didn't know, he IS a pirate. He is skilled on the high seas. It would be a perfect fit for him. That's the only one I'm going to divulge at this time. But they are always asking US, it is not like we are TELLING them - you are going to be THIS. You are going to own the family business. No. We are GUIDING them. And I would say we are CORRECTLY guiding them. Because if we don't, it scares me as to who will, and to where they would be guided.

• Why did this post get so darn 'heavy' all of a sudden?

• I was in the 'beach' bathroom (as Jake calls it) earlier, and noticed what appeared to be on first glance, dried, smeared....you guessed it.....POOP............. all over the mirror, the sink, the walls, the floor. I started to absolutely Ape-POOP, when I started to howl with laughter. It wasn't poop. And no, it wasn't chocolate. It was.............................KETCHUP.

Good night, John Boy.

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