Ok I feel like I misled you. I hope you read that word as mis -led, like I led you astray, and not meyesled, like a certain former father-in-law I had did. He never put that together, and he was a doctor. People were always meyeseling him. I think that I misled you into believing that there is nothing funny or good in my life right now, which totally isn't true. I just feel overwhelmed with all of the little things that seem WRONG these days. Like the smell of the carpet in my new/old house, and the fact that my face is broken out like a 9th grade boy before homecoming, and I gained like 100 pounds last month. And no matter how many times I vacuum, I don't like to walk through my own house without shoes on. And even though I just worked for a month, there still isn't enough money to do It All, and I am already feeling claustrophobic with the amount of work and planning and cleaning and etc. etc. etc. we have to do to get this house to where it's not grossing me out to drink water out of my own sink. Or maybe I just still feel fire camp contamination. And I have made orange marmalade and canned peaches and scrubbed toilets and pulled weeds and I just feel like I can't ever do enough to have it count for anything. Life is rude, for making me feel like I am an underachiever. And really, if I just lost a pound or two every day, like reimbursement for my usefulness, I would feel better. So really it's about the fat. And how much I don't like to not eat. And how tired I am from being at war with a body that seems determined to undermine my self-confidence at all cost. But there are lots of good things right now. And funny things. Lots of funny things.

For example, I helped Aspen clean her room the other day. If that isn't funny enough, then picture me scrounging up scraps of garbage and junk to throw away, and grabbing a chunk of what I assumed was old playdough, only to discover it was dried poop of some variety. What kind of poop it was, or more importantly, who has been pooping in Aspen's room, seemed less important to me than the fact that I had just picked up a piece of it like it was the shoe for a rubber doll, or a puzzle piece. I don't do poop. Even dried poop. The saddest thing about this is that I was too tired or too lazy or just too complacent to go wash my hands downstairs until after I got done cleaning the room. No wonder I feel dirty all of the time.

Then there is Josh singing along with the radio, and anytime he is crooning along with a love song, because he has issues with intimacy, he substitutes the word "shoes" for you. For example "I will always love shoes...." ala Whitney Houston. Today he messed up the words in a Jason Mraz song and sang that he won't give up on "shoes" which clearly should have been "us" and his traditional non-intimate substitute for "us" is usually something like "mud" or "fuzz". #mockeryfail

And then we have Kizzie, who has started volleyball practice this week, and hasn't changed out of her spandex shorties yet. This, in and of itself, is pretty funny, but Aspen's undeniable need to smack that lycra-clad bootie every time she walks by, or from across the room, or sneaking down stairs, is kind of hilarious. Especially when MacKenzie rages out and puts her in a headlock. I keep telling Kiz that if she doesn't want extra booty attention, she should shed the booty shorts. Ain't happenin'. It's her tough luck that the attention happens to come from a 9 year old sister. But that bum IS just begging for a smack. Or a pinch. Or a shroud.

Another cool thing we have going on, as we prepare for the beginning of school, is the one-bathroom factor. We knew that this would be an issue, but I have to admit, I was more concerned about hair and tooth brushing than what we are running into now.Turns out, it's really a simple matter of math and physics that becomes the problem. 5 people, one toilet. If 5 people poop once a day, and bathroom air quality remains compromised for a minimum of 15 minutes after each transaction, we are facing at least 1.5 hours of bad bathroom time, and inevitably, with the standards of human digestion, most of the participants in this race against biology are subjected to a smelly bathroom at some point during the day. This is aggravated by the fact that certain family members close the door to contain air contamination, thereby delaying dissipation and prolonging exposure time. This situation is further compounded by a stomach virus that swept our ranks this week and some toilet paper that was purchased at home depot as a means of avoiding one. more. stop. in Spokane. Did you know that they made toilet paper out of walnut shells that only holds four sheets on a roll? They do, and we found it. Costco TP, I miss the heck out of you. I have begged Josh to dig a pit for an outhouse in the back yard, which he staunchly refuses to do, partially due to city codes and partially because I think he suspects that he will be the only one sequestered to it's use. I mean, he IS the boy.

It is the night before school starts, and Aspen's hair is up in the traditional twirlies that result in a terrible curl-type arrangement that every one of my girls (not counting Halle, obv.) insisted on wearing for the first day of school until they entered 6th grade and realized what a Really Bad idea these non-curls are. Crazy hair day during spirit week, sure, but first day of school, not so much. The school supplies are a resounding upgrade from last year, when Josh decided we needed to cut corners by insisting that we sort through and dole out every broken crayon, half used color pencil and mostly dry marker to the girls and thereby avoid spending money on school supplies. Since back-to-school was always a favorite time of year for me, and maybe especially since I was a homeschooler and never got to even show off my precious, carefully selected Lisa Frank pencils and Human Bean pee-chees, or my fresh, white, cable knit knee-socks and plaid dresses, it was a keen disappointment for me to send my kids off to school with crappy second hand school supplies. It was like I got ripped off. I don't think Aspen even noticed, except that I was so bitter, and I reminded her several times of the grave injustice. Poor, teflon coated, made of rubber Aspen. She is such a good sport. She has yet to go to the same school for more than one year in a row. Except that she went to two years of pre-school at Northport. She is the picture of resilience, of easy-goingness, and exactly the lovable person I want to be. And she can wear a handout backpack from NAEMT that Josh got for this year's subscription like a boss. And an outfit from a friend that I shudder to let her out of the house in. And those "curls". But Aspen, she's cool enough to pull it off. If I could be represented by another human being, she'd be it. Not that all my kids aren't totally rad, they are, but she's just That Cool. She has figured out that being nice and being easy gets you a whole lot farther than being difficult and moody. She is so completely opposite from me on so many levels, and so much what I wish I was. She is the innocence of childhood that we should all learn from.

I had so much trouble finding ANYTHING "Human Bean" online, I wondered for a minute if I had totally dreamt them up. But I had a folder with this guy on it. And I loved it.