I have been remiss in my posting responsibilities, but this is nothing new. I tend to go in spurts, and when that real life phenomena steps up to the plate, I humbly move aside and let it take over. And I make sure there is enough beer in the fridge to tide my blog over until I return.

The randomness of this post, much of it without the use of transitional sentences, will cause most of you to walk away scratching your head and buying stock in Head 'N Shoulders. It's either that or you have fleas. I hate it when that happens.

I have spent a majority of my day of, my DAY OFF, with no children I might add, trying to clean up my husband's blog which was attacked by a barrage of SPAM! comments that could easily equal the population of North America. Or two bunnies of the opposite sex left alone in a cage for a few months. Take your pick. In a short span of time, he accumulated nearly 32,000 SPAM! comments which in turn, rendered him nearly useless in the blogosphere. I have been in contact, via email, with our host, who has been most helpful this time around. I think I have finally convinced my husband, who is argumentatively and unequivocally the most stubborn man on the face of this earth, to upgrade to a newer version of MT, and to back up his database frequently. Our host only does that once a week. The latter part I will probably handle as I really don't want to have to go through this any time soon, and let's just say, IT God or not, he probably won't do it. Go figure. By the way, I have told this to him in person, and he agrees. He is adamant on backing up everything, but for some odd reason, everything did not include his blog. But I love him anyway, despite this irritating fault. Ok, I don't like it when he leaves his underwear on the bathroom floor either.

Both of my girls are social butterflies, and I fear I will need to hire a secretary just to keep up with all of their sleepovers and play dates. Last night, we had just returned from gymnastics practice when Meelie got a phone call. And then she received two others, one right after another. It seems that for the most part, the calls are for my children, rather than me or their dad. Of course, this could be considered a good thing, because generally, the only people who call us are bill collectors or slimy salesmen. The other day, I was so excited to get a call from someone, even though it was a guy who wanted to sell me siding for my house, that I kept him on the line regaling him with riveting tales on how my oldest daughter refused to poop on the pot, and how we overcame that obstacle by the time she was eight. I do believe he was crying by the time we got off the phone. I don't think we will be hearing from him any time soon. I wonder why?

I need to end this post now, because I have rambled incoherently long enough, and have managed to confuse even myself, which isn't saying much. I need to ready my children for their activities for the night, and then come home and ready myself for a fish fry with a bunch of good friends.

Have a wonderful evening and I hope your head doesn't itch too badly.