Prizes!

The "There's a hands free kit?" Award goes to Esperanza for Remembering What it's All About.

The Bringing the Bodily Fluids award goes to Andy, Esperanza (obviously), and Amy. Feel better soon, Andy! And Amy, the potty issues do end....eventually. But what do I know? I'm still wiping MM's tushy.

The Morton Salt (When it Rains it Pours) Award goes to DebAngel (I'm so sorry about your illness, your mom, and your dog).

The What Would We Have to Drink Award goes to Miranda! I hope you were able to get the whole thing printed!

The Jack Frost Award goes to Turtlebella, JenR (stay warm inside mommy, baby!), Sue, and especially K (ice INSIDE the windows!)

The coveted Style Award, with attendant Crown goes to Yankee T. for her brilliant new work, "It's a Hard Tooth Cracked".

And finally, the Whine of Substance Award goes to Sue: "Whine: I made a pastoral call yesterday morning to someone who seemed a bit low on Sunday. She ripped about four layers of skin off of me about a stooopid wall hanging that was recently removed from the sanctuary (by Board approval - and it happened while I was freakin' holidays - had NOTHING to do with me).She bitched me out and verbally abused me until she decided to hang up on me. Bitch. They definitely do not pay me enough money to put up with this shit. Today?? I hate my job. Everything about it. I can't get excited about any of it. Not just because of her, but because I feel like I've been told one thing "We want to move forward" but the first change that happened resulted in a complete freak out all over the minister. What the fireplace am I doing here?"

And that is not even including her headache. Hugs and kisses, Sue.

And that wraps it up for this week. Thanks again for your patience and your contributions!! See you next week when our host will be Kathy A.!

Our moderator is currently in class, prizes will be posted this afternoon. Your patience is appreciated!

Comments are closed on the below post, but please use this space to whine some more, to sympathize, to vote, and to think up new and interesting prizes!!!

Wednesday Whining: Muffin Man is gonna be six edition

How did this happen???? Just yesterday he was a wee tiny baby and now, oh heck! He's up to my neck! (actually, oh darn it! He's above my armpit!)

And did you know that an adult tooth can grow in behind a baby tooth? And does anyone have any ideas on how to floss that bad boy?

How's by you? Any tales of woe?

Prizes!

In case you were wondering, the reason the media has declared this the most depressing week of the year is that the weather is dreary, holiday credit card bills are due, and we’ve abandoned the optimism of our New Year’s resolutions.

But the pixies have come up with much better reasons! We’ve got worries of all kinds this week.

kathy a. has “flu. barf. clean-up.” Urgh. Thanks for sharing, with us and the cats.

Sue, we’re thinking of you today and hoping your time in the MRI tube yields actionable cause for your fireplacing headache.

Sending “get the baby out of my uterus” vibes to JenR and “get the teenager out of my bed” vibes to Margalit.

Cluesticks for crabby kids (including mine) and endless patience for the caring adults in their lives . . . us! Valium in the meantime, and some “sleepy baby” dust for That Mommy’s Kid2.

We welcome esperanza to the world of juggling work and family. Here are your crazy juggler’s hat and some flaming swords.

Miranda, we’d be happy to talk you out of starting a Ph.D. program, or into it. You know, whichever. We’ll stay tuned for updates.

I can’t help laughing about Redzils' landladies who imagine pestilence in every corner of the kitchen. I’m sorry, Redzils. I hope whining about it is helping you laugh, too! It should be harder for them to conjure invisible vermin if you are there to say, “No, that’s just poppy seeds on the counter.”

A virtual copy of Micro$oft Project is on the way to Sarah because her renovation plans require a flowchart. Eeeep! Good luck. I’m guessing there are plenty more good whines left in this little adventure.

I am sniffling my way through my second cold since Christmas, so I am staying far, far away from Camera Obscura who definitely doesn’t need any more viral exposure just now.

Especially big hugs to Amy as you struggle to tell your daughter her pony is ill. We promise not to tease you about owning a pony in the first place if you need to whine some more next week.

And finally, last and most, hugs, chocolate, free child care, and imaginary perfect medications to Anonymous. The medication is for your husband (cures depression, no side effects, kicks in immediately) but I’ll throw in an extra dose of comfort for you, too. I think the pixies had some good suggestions. I hope you find a path through this maze.

Wednesday Whining: Mid-Winter Blahs Edition

Today was going pretty well, actually. I had a few work meetings, sent an email to a good friend. I was moving through the day smoothly. Then came the meltdown.

Take one wet, cold, tired, hungry seven year old and one tired, hungry Mama. Mix together in a change room full of other mothers and kids. What do you get? Tantrums, one for each.

Oh, and by the way, I heard on the news that this is the most depressing week of the year.

Why? You tell me.

Prizes!

Hugs and condolances to all the Pixies suffering this week from: not enough sleep, global warming, family members in the hospital, cats with dubious and stinkerino hobbies, evil girl scout leaders, insurance company rage, headaches, crying, 24/7 bambino schedules, sore nipples, obsessive handwashing, kinda sickness but not enough to take to the bed, too-expensive meds, too much busy-ness to whine, meds with too many side-effects, rain and cold forcast for vacation, misplaced sex drive, coffeeless days, PMS of the offspring variety, battles with schools, battles with banks, itchy spots, sinus infections, green tongues [yuck!], too much of a beloved one who cannot stop talking and demanding attention, oblivious spousal units, too much crying and whining, that fashionable "hell warmed over" look, the fucking cancer, work suckiness, family suckiness, the hideous beepbeepbeep of a smoke detector wishing for a new battery, clueless colleagues, departmental budgetary woes, laptops on last legs, drafty houses and doors that won't close all the way, personal PMS and zit explosions.

Esperanza wins the Remembering What It's All About Award.

Sympathies and a bag of green M&M's to A. Nonnie Mouse, who describes her missing libido as "a shriveled little raisin on the floor" and asks us to save it for her, should we run across it.

The coveted Elevated Risk of Mullet Award to Gary, who responded as follows to Liz's whine that she is not getting enough sleep and the polar ice caps are melting:

You mean if you get more sleep, the polar ice caps stop melting? Dammit,
your bedtime is now 8:30. Don't make me send Al Gore over there to read
Goodnight, Moon.

Gary meant it, too. Liz missed her bedtime, and Mr. Gore took time out of his busy schedule to tuck her in.

The Style Award is once again captured by the fabulous Yankee T, addressing the question of whether WW has outlived its usefulness to readers:

Somewhere, over the int'net,
There's a blog,
Where I can vent all my whining
And not be called a dog.

Somewheeeeeeeeeere,
over the int'net,
Skies are grey,
And we can all kvetch and belly-ache,
Every single "Wensday"

Some day I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the whines are far behind me
But til I do that, god knows when
I need a place to whine and then
Here's where you'll find me

Somewhere, over the int'net,
Whiners cry
Whiners cry over the int'net
Why then, oh why can't I?

Thank you all for playing this week! Tune in next week, when Madeleine will be your gracious host.

And thank you for the kind and positive comments in the post below, asking whether you think WW has outlived its usefulness. We plan to keep on with the weekly Brigadoon, rotating hosts. One or two hosts may step down due to the press of real life; some others have not been hosting lately, but plan to as things settle down for them in coming weeks and months.

Nothin' But Good Times Ahead

... or so I hope. Credit to Molly Ivins, whose book of that name currently graces the reading chair.

Meanwhile, it still appears to be January. My recent cold led to an unfortunate addiction to several seasons of a TV show that I missed because [a] I don't watch TV, and [b] I don't have cable. My hands feel like sandpaper, and are prone to cracking in a very attractive manner. A fingernail snapped off painfully. The new coffeemaker went wild and flooded the counter instead of filling the pot. My hair looks like it was styled by rodents.

On the antiwhine side, we adopted the kittens we have been fostering, as they seem to like it here but have not quite gotten around to trusting humans. They are very goofy adolescent furballs.

So, how're things at your end, Pixies? Passing the chips and dip.

e.t.a. -- hey! i learned how to do links! not good links, mind you, but links nonetheless.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Please stop by the post below.