A friendly game of Tag

Growing up there were many school yard games I liked to play. Cops and Robbers. (I was always the robber, and my brother would lock me in jail and then go have lunch.) Hopscotch and double dutch. And of course, my favorite; tag. Well, now that we are all grown up, I don't often get a chance to play tag. That and the fact the kids can out run this chicken any day of the week. So it was with great delight that I found myself tagged. Thanks Izzy. I'm not above a little school yard blogosphere fun so I decided to play. (That and the fact that I had no blog fodder this morning. Nope, this well ran dry.)

I AM: a stronger woman than I gave myself credit for. (And I'm not referring to my stink!)

I WANT: to be able to pick a damn name for my puppy. I named three kids easier than this!

I WISH: that I could harness an angel and bring him home.

I HATE: ignorant, judgmental folks.

I MISS: my Bug. Hence, my blog.

I FEAR: my mother wanting to move in with me when she gets elderly. Dear God, that's a scary thought.

I HEAR: the birds twittering outside my window. **I just heard a loud thump. A birdie flew into my window. I went outside to look and the bird was on the ground. Great. Nice way to start the damn day. I am now a bird killer...Oh wait, it flew away. Phew...**

I WONDER: if I leave my windows dirty will the birds stop flying into them.

I REGRET: never having worn a mini skirt or a two piece bikini out in public. Three kids later, 20 pounds heavier and riddled with stretch marks, I probably never will...

I AM NOT: above drinking milk straight from the carton or eating Betty Crocker's frosting straight from the jar. Come on, people, you don't come here because I call myself the Classy Mommy.

I DANCE: like I'm a discombobulated chicken, doing the herky-jerk. And I love it. Especially with children in my arms and on my toes. My hubs, however, prefers to dance with my sister...He says I look like I have Turrets when I try to two-step.

I SING: all the time. Like a cat in heat. And I don't care. So take that Daddy!

I CRY: yes, damnit, I cry. Let me tell you, Kleenex must love me. Because I must have been personally responsible for their Christmas bonuses.

I AM NOT ALWAYS: funny. At least that's what my mother tells me.

I MAKE WITH MY HANDS: beautiful blooms. I have green fingers. Plants love me. Gardens love me. Flowers love me. And I love them all back with the type of geeky faithfulness that worries my hubs.

I WRITE: lists. I am the List Queen. And if I lose my list I have been known to panic and be rendered useless in the grocery store. I have been known to hijack stranger's lists in order to jog my memory about what was on my list. My loved ones refuse to shop with me. They are scared of the lists.

I CONFUSE: my hubs on a daily basis. It's what kept us together for a million years. Adds a little spice, if you know what I mean...

I NEED: a good therapist with a comfy couch. Or a stiff drink.

I SHOULD: be thankful that my parents live five miles down the road and the inlaws live five miles down in the other direction. Built in babysitters, right? More like, built in snoops. Who pop up without knocking, whether you are in the throws of passion or not...

I START: every day with the largest, strongest cup of caffeine I can get my hands on. After I grind my own beans.

I FINISH: every day in the arms of the person who loves me most. And I am so thankful for it. Even if he refuses to shave.

So thanks Izzy for tagging me out in this big ole blogosphere yard. If I can catch Binky I'll tag her!