A Day in the Life

I was recently asked what my life is like as a mother of a busy household.  This was my response...

My day starts with approving HRH's outfit and hair style--yes, she wakes me every morning for this chore. lol

Get breakfast for the little boys. No, Max--you cannot survive on Wheat Thins. JJ you need more than 10 calories. Zeke--27 bowls of cereal is quite enough.

Let the dog out.

Let the dog in.  Feed the dog.

Get the boys ready for school, including telling M that his shirt is on backward, making J re-brush his teeth (this time with toothpaste), and telling Z that neither a pajama top nor a short sleeved shirt are recommended for the dead of winter.

Let the dog out.

Comb the boys hair, threaten to shave their heads.

Decide their teeth are still gross and re-brush them all myself.

Drive the boys to school--in my jammies, quite a sight...

Come home, let the dog in.

Do dishes, fold a load of laundry. Toss wash into the dryer.

Take a shower. Hair, makeup, clothes--not in that order...

Let the dog out.

Collect 47 items of laundry from bedroom and bathroom floors and start another load of laundry.

 Let the dog in.

Work on computer to fulfill customer orders.

Make phone calls to place new orders and locate new vendors and price lists.

Crate the dog.

Run to office and then panic when I realize that HRH is ready for a ride home from school and I'm still in SLC.

Pick up HRH from school.

Let the dog out.

Figure out something for lunch.

Let the dog in.

Help HRH with homework.
 
Do more laundry.

Talk to a friend.

Wash any remaining dishes, which is usually in the form of pots and pans for things I didn't even cook...

Finish up a little computer work.  Send emails.

 Let the dog out.

 Let the dog in. Crate the dog.

Drive to the school to pick up Sarah for our carpool. Drive HRH and Sarah to dance.

Get stuck in traffic on the way back from dance.  Make frantic calls to get someone prepared to do a rescue pick-up in case I don't get to the elementary school on time for the boys.

Dash home to get boys dressed in whatever uniform or outfit is necessary. Grab suitable snacks and deliver the boys to dance, tumbling, scouts, karate, or whatever oddity that they might be doing.

Let the dog out.

Let the dog in. Crate the dog.

Watch odd class in which boys participate in case of accidental injury causing an unforeseen stop by the ER.

Run to moms to save her from data-loss disaster.

Drive to Provo to pick up HRH. Stopping on the way to pick up print orders for work.

Drop Sarah off in Cedar Hills--dash home.

Let the dog out.

Get home in time to make ravioli and meatballs (from a can) for whomever will eat it. Scrounge for the rest of us... (I've been known to dine on Cheetos and Diet Coke.)

Let the dog in. Feed the dog.

Work on homework with the boys--once they graduate to Fourth grade, I will have successfully passed Third grade a grand total of 6 times...

Dump all three boys in the tub and threaten them with their lives if they don't use soap and shampoo.

Help HRH with more homework.

Let the dog out.

Let the dog in.

Talk to The Mister: this might equal a grand total of 3 sentences--especially if he's out of town and I am still struggling to get everyone off to bed.

Send everyone to bed--after brushing teeth (again, with toothpaste) for all the boys.

Do a little more computer work.

Watch The Big Bang Theory (I have 4 complete seasons on DVD).

Find anything that will pass as pajamas.

Read a book in bed.

Let the dog out.

Let the dog in. Crate the dog.

Pass out. Repeat.

Notice that I did not get all the laundry into the dryer, nor did I cook an appropriately nutritious meal. I didn't buy any groceries, nor did I pay the bills.  I neglected to clean the toilets. I didn't go shopping at the mall. I did not get a Smash Burger (tragic!). I didn't pick up the dry cleaning nor did I get the oil changed in my car.  I hope to do some of these things tomorrow... Or the next day... Or maybe next week......  We'll see.
 

HTML on the Brain

I've been neglecting my blog...  I know.  But I've been obsessed with working on a new project.

Now, I'm no computer guru.  In fact, other than how to spell the terms, I know nothing about Source Code or HTML.  My working knowledge of computers has barely progressed from AOL to Google.  I'm afraid of Control-Alt-Delete.  And my iMac's operating system still confuses me.

I am, however, a master of the Computer Crash.  I can (and usually do) crash annually.  But, despite my reputation for hard drive annihilation, I am pushing forward into the Digital Unknown.  I. Am. Writing. Code.

If you know me at all, you know that once I get a bee in my bonnet I am a bit single-minded.  I research, ask questions, and generally make a pest of myself to anyone who will listen to me.  And then I jump in with both feet.

My latest project?  Building a website (by myself--really!) for my Scentsy business.  I could have paid someone (that's what most of the other Independent Consultants do).  But where's the fun in that?  So I've chosen my colors, picked a style, and made my first effort.  OK, maybe it's not my first effort, but I'm at the point where I actually have a functioning effort!  LOL

At the risk of looking like I am shamelessly promoting my Scentsy business, I do want to invite you to take a look...  More than shameless promotion, think of it as pride of achievement.  Yes, I'm a little impressed with myself!  Not only is it kinda cute (IMHO), but all the linky-thingys work!  YAY!

So, here is the link to my temporary hosting site. (I can't believe I actually know anything about any type of hosting sites!)  www.wickless-wonder.com.

Well, let me know what you think.  But be kind...  First efforts and all, remember? 

Decisions

I'm a Master Decision-maker...  Ha ha haha...  Actually I'm a Decision Procrastinator.  It's not that I don't want to bring things to a conclusion--to resolve the issues...  But, first, I have to research.  And by research, what I really mean is that I need to consult all available resources.  Consumer Reports.  PC Magazine.  Cnet.  ZDnet.  The BBB...

But, today, I made an impromptu executive decision.  Immediately.  On the spot.  Without second-guessing.  And you know what?  It feels good!

Curves

I am well acquainted with the word voluptuous, 

but yesterday I discovered a new word. 

vo-LUMP-tuous

Let's just say that I can relate to this new word even better!  lol 

And so much more descriptive, isn't it? 

Fingers Crossed

It's the beginning of a new year.  A time when many of us reflect upon the previous twelve months.  Our choices, disappointments, and small moments of triumph.  A time to wish we'd done some things differently.  And a time to rejoice in unexpected good fortune.  It's a time of reflection, and an opportunity for self evaluation.

Today in church we had a lesson about the importance of resolutions.  Not exactly a typical topic for a Sunday lesson...  Usually, even if the content remained the same, the title of the lesson would read something more like "Goals" or "Achieving Personal Progression," alluding to something seemingly more enlightened than "lose that last 15 pounds."

I'm not a huge proponent of New Year Resolutions.  I guess my reasoning is that if you don't make them, you can't break them...  Possibly not the most insightful way of looking at it--but that's a pretty good indicator of my mentality regarding change.  Let's just say that I don't do change well.  Change.  I dread the possibility of it...  I avoid the impetus of it...  The whole thought of it makes me cringe, quite literally...

But, after pondering the Sunday lesson, I've decided that I do, in fact, have a desire to change a few minute aspects of my life.  So, here's my plan.  I resolve to lose weight, eat more healthfully, be kinder to those around me, learn something new, be more outgoing, make a new friend.  I plan to be more successful, be more creative.  Walk the dog, drink more water, learn a new skill.  Travel the world, read something amazing, influence someone for good.  I plan to cook from scratch, bake beautiful birthday cakes, and host amazing little get-togethers.  I'll meet all my new neighbors, always wear a smile, and be kind to the guy who allows his dog to poop on my lawn.  I'll plant flowers, create beautiful floral arrangements for the table, and nurture a fruit tree...  There...  I think that will do it...

And if you found any typos in the previous paragraph, you can blame it on my trying to type with my fingers crossed.  Because crossed fingers negate everything...  Right?

Perspective

I've recently been witness to a painful lesson in how differently two people can perceive the same situation.

In our business-savvy world, we do all we can to eliminate unnecessary misunderstandings.  We define time lines, terms of payment, responsibilities, and expectations...  And still, there is always room for misinterpretation.

It's frustrating to look at a scenario and see one thing, while knowing that another party is interpreting the same information in an entirely different way.  And being the opinionated person that I am, I feel completely driven to convince the opposing side of my correctness.  Never mind that at the same time, those same people are trying to convince me to accept their (erroneous) point of view.

I pride myself on being a fairly reasonable person (disputed by some of my son's friends, I'm sure).  And I like to think that I am logical as well.  Is my sensible mind-set an anomaly?  Why don't more people agree with me?  It would save us both some time and annoyance.  Maybe some people just enjoy a good argument...  What they don't know is that I am really skilled in the art of the argument.  And, of course, I have the benefit of being right.

The Dentist

I have an unreasonable, purely irrational, overwhelmingly unmanageable neurosis regarding  my teeth.  (I know, I need help...)  Anyway, for this reason (the neurosis--keep up!) I searched far and wide, making many errors in judgment, before finding the perfect dentist.  And no, "perfect" is not an exaggeration, at least not as far as I'm concerned.  In fact, not only is my dentist awesome, his whole staff is top-notch.  in fact, I've even consented to see his partner on occasion with outstanding results.  But the truth is, I love Dr. Larsen.   

I have a good friend who hates her dentist.  Of course, it's hard to like any dentist who drills holes in your head without using Novocaine!  But here's the rub.  She (my friend) requests to be treated without  any anesthetic...  (And you thought I was neurotic!)  Her reasoning is that this gives her bragging rights when talking to her all-brother siblings.  I'm sorry, but I don't need the "tough" title that bad... 

Recently, this same friend mentioned how much she disliked her dentist and asked if I liked mine.  I told her how gentle my dentist is.  How painless the treatments.  I mentioned how careful he is with my extremely sensitive teeth...  She asked where his office was located, and after my response she guffawed--right out loud!

She doesn't think it's necessary to drive from the Greater Salt Lake City Area to the nether regions of the fine state of Utah to find a good dentist.  But then what does she know?  She lets people drill into her head without numbing it first!

P.S.  In case anybody out there cares, the best dentist in Utah practices in HOLDEN!

aaand... Repeat.

Last night I was telling a friend that I feel like I live in the movie Groundhog Day. Although I have referenced that movie in another post, you should not infer that it is my favorite movie. It's just that it happens to have a significant resemblance to my life. 

Anyway, we were discussing the restless point at which we've both arrived. The point at which we are dissatisfied with the status quo. She, being unencumbered by children's school schedules, spouse's work obligations, and other entanglements, is considering making a drastic change to her repetitive life. Me? I am not so flexibly situated.

We discussed her dreams of moving to Europe, Asia, California... And my willingness to visit her in any or all of those exotic locations.  I have to admit, the potential for her to pick and move on a whim is more than a little appealing to me.  Not that I'd ditch my family (really, I swear that I wouldn't!  lol), but there is certainly something appealing about her freedom to change course at will. 

After concluding my wistful pondering of her independence, I decided that maybe it's my own fault that I live in Groundhog Day.  And maybe, just maybe, relocation wouldn't really resolve anything anyway.  After all, for the foreseeable future my life will consist intermittently of packing lunches, walking to the bus stop, afternoon carpools, puking, laundry, washing dishes, cooking, cleaning toilets, and sundry other chores/obligations/duties/privileges.  And all of those things will be a part of my life whether I live right here, or somewhere beachy and tropical...  But maybe I can still extract myself from this persistent, cinematic cycle.

Since I will be doing all the above whether it's here or somewhere else, maybe it's what else I'm doing that I need to modify.  The Boy and I took an excursion to the bike shop on Friday.  I have to say, all those shiny new bikes, helmets with cool graphics, and other nifty doodads made me (if only briefly) reconsider my prohibition on cycling.  But then I reflected on why I ended my stinted cycling phase...  And I remembered that my girlie parts just didn't appreciate that specific form of exercise.  So, I guess that I am stuck in the movie until I can find another outlet for my entertainment needs.  I've considered golf--but who has that much extra time in a day?  I've considered going to the gym...  OK, it was never a serious consideration.  I contemplated cooking classes, but my hips and thighs are begging me to reconsider...  Maybe I'll just take up Olympic-level Shopping.  I'm pretty good at shopping...  Or speed racing!  I can practice while I drive the carpools!  Now, that's an idea worth investigating!

Yay!

Well--I hope it's a "yay."  We got iMac back yesterday afternoon and began to recover the lost data.  We're only half way through the restore process, but I'm keeping my fingers crossed that we will recover everything.

In the meantime, life is just rolling along.  I've had a very frustrating week, and I don't see it getting better anytime soon.  It's amazing how easy it is to let other people affect your mood.

But enough about that--fingers crossed that the recovery works.  Hopefully I'll be back online tomorrow!

Update...

I've been asked if I'm giving up the blog...
The question should be,

Have you given up the ghost?  

The answer is "no" (to both questions).  Although a double ear infection with a ruptured ear drum, a sore throat, a stuffy nose, a debilitating cough, and an officially diagnosed case of bronchitis left me feeling like death only moderately warmed over.  But I'm getting better *cough cough (hacking) cough* Sorry...

And I've decided that it's definitely time to get better now.  I've taken my antibiotics.  I'm wired from Sudafed.  I've slept, read, and slept some more.  And now I am going to be well...  I'm terribly determined about this...

So if you're feeling especially generous, and full of goodwill, please send happy thoughts and good karma my way.

Thanks.

I'm not dead...

...at least not yet. 

Just thought you might want to know. 

something's brewing

It isn't the snow storm.  It isn't a fight.  It isn't a stew in the kettle.

It isn't the flu.  It isn't my temper.  It isn't a squabble to settle.

But something is brewing, and I think I know
Just what that something might be...

It's a growing compulsion
To set into motion

A new obsession for me!

Me? I am shallow...

The Mister has a favorite quote that he frequently recites from the 1986 movie The Money Pit:

I am shallow and self-centered. But you... you are "complex."

The Mister has often used this quote when speaking about our relationship.  But I think he has just reevaluated exactly who is whom in the shallow/complex relationship.  The Mister just finished catching up on my blog, and he informs me that I am at risk of being labeled shallow.  I wonder, after 15 years, is he really just now figuring that out?

Oh well, I guess I can live with that!

Habits

Habits, what are they?  Nuns wear them, druggies succumb to them...  What do you think of when you hear that word?  Is a habit a flaw, a weakness, a foible?  Or is it merely a quirk in our personal nature? 

I've been contemplating the topic of Habits a lot lately.  What is it about the term habit that is so negative?  I know that not all habits are bad.  In fact, there are several habits I wish I could aquire.  I'm not sure I'd ever truly enjoy being in the habit of getting regular exercise, but I am certain that I would see positive results.  If I could exercise regularly enough to make it a habit, I'm sure I wouldn't be sorry.  Maybe I should strive for habitually, healthy eating.  Or maybe, I could engage the habit of cleaning on a weekly schedule.  I'm sure that would make my life less stressful than the frantic, company-is-coming cleaning that I currently do...

But it's true that there are many bad habits that we pick up along the way.  Isn't it curious how something completely innocuous can turn on you in an instant?  And it's usually the seemingly unimportant things that turn into bad habits for me.  Nothing like smoking (which is not only unhealthy, but also stinky).  But the little things that creep up on you.  Like driving a little too fast, or drinking enough caffeine to keep the whole neighborhood abuzz.  Or even something as simple as grooming.  I once had made such a habit of my nightly make-up removal routine that I nearly had a melt-down when one of my preferred cleansing products was discontinued. 

My most recent priority in regard to habit-breaking involves the aforementioned frenetic housework.  Why is it such a struggle for me to keep the house orderly?  I used to be able to claim a neat and tidy house.  I was well-trained by my neat and tidy mom.  But somewhere along the way, that habit was lost and replaced by the sleep-til-the-last-minute-and-rush-out-the-door-with-the-beds-unmade habit.  I gotta break that!

So, that is my goal.  I'm going to break one habit, and (hopefully) in the process I will create another, more positive habit.  Habits are not something I usually go looking to create, and that's what will make this an interesting experiment.  Let's just hope that by next week I have a clean house, but without my manifesting any debilitating Clorox habits!

Why am I yelling in my car?

I got up this morning with an agenda.  I knew that I would be spending nearly all day in my car.  But I wasn't unnerved by that fact, because I like my car.  It's a new car.  And (today, at least) it's a clean car that smells really good!  It's a car with a hands-free phone system, a satellite radio, and a DVD player (not that I planned to watch while driving--duh). 

I prepared for my day by grabbing a Diet Pepsi, my iPod, the GPS, assorted CDs, and my cell phone.  And for the most part, I was looking forward to a day alone in my car...  I sooo enjoy being alone in my car--nobody to re-tune the radio, nobody to tell me to turn it down, turn it up, turn it off...  I was prepared, and looking forward to my little road trip...

My hearts-and-flowers vision of the drive quickly dissolved into chaotic humor.  I didn't get far from home before the GPS started yelling at me.  And I don't mean talking loudly, the volume was set at 100%, it was yelling!  Unfortunately, at the same time the GPS started yelling, I was also voice-dialing my mom.  My car then started yelling at me...

That command is not understood.  Please rephrase!  

Of course my car couldn't understand!  While I was saying,

Call Mom, 

the GPS was yelling,

Turn Right in 50 feet! 

And I found myself yelling at everyone to Shut Up!  Of course, by everyone, I mean noone...  I was, as you recall, alone in my car...

Weight, What Happened?

At some point, you just have to get serious about the weighty issues.  In late September, I did just that.  I took matters in hand, and dedicated myself to the weight-loss cause (also known as Bebe's Great Transformation).  I knew that I had to do something different, after all, doing what I had been doing would just keep me going in the same direction...  And that direction wasn't giving me any wiggle room in my jeans!  So, I made some changes, some of them drastic, and I set some goals.

The best thing I did was buy a BodyBugg.  I love that thing!  I've worn it nearly as faithfully as I would a pacemaker!  I watch what I eat like a Nazi, and I'm brutally honest when I log my daily food intake.  Because I remain vigilantly aware of my choices, I was even able to lose weight over the Christmas and New Year's holidays!

Two weeks ago, I met my goal.  I stepped on my bathroom scale (not the Mister's body fat scale *shudder*) and was pleased to see the digital display reflect that magic number.  Unfortunately, I guess I had a somewhat idealized notion of what I would look like at my goal weight.  So, I set a new target.  It seems so unfair that this weight, on my nearly 40 year old body, isn't as cute as it was on my 30 year old body.  Unfair, because I've worked harder to achieve this weight at this age, and the results just aren't as pleasing...

My work in real estate has taught me the importance of location, location, location...  My "curves" have seemingly relocated--to less desirable locations...  But the truth is, even with the migration from desirable neighborhoods to more questionable areas, I'm generally satisfied.  There's nothing like trying on a pair of jeans, and needing to go back for a smaller size.  Of course, there's also nothing like actually being able to find jeans in readily available sizes!  I'm no longer shopping in the Nether Land of Denim. Hurray!

PS.  If you haven't checked it out, scroll to the bottom of the page to see my SkinnyR Graph!

My No-Resolution Resolution

Here we are.  Another year, another January...  And for the umpteenth year in a row, I am NOT making any New Year's Resolutions.  Why?  Because I simply don't believe in them.  That's why.

I know that January marks the beginning of a new year.  It heralds a fresh start, and a clean slate.  But the only thing I ever resolve to do in January is buy a new calendar.

Making resolutions or goal-setting is tricky.  And I find that if I let myself go there, I just get myself into more trouble.  For instance, once I decide to start a diet, I just need to do it... right then... no waiting...  If I set a goal to start next Sunday (for instance) I know that I'll just eat even more on Friday and Saturday in preparation.

Knowing myself well enough to realize this little quirk of reality, I am going to take it one day at a time this year.  Do I have certain things I hope to accomplish?  Yes, I do.  But I'm going to work on them daily and quit worrying about the overall results.  I hope that by doing my best each day I will make steady progress toward becoming who I want to be.

We'll just have to wait and see how it goes, but I do have high hopes that this will be a great year! 

Will I be skinny by next Christmas?  I don't know, but I hope so.  Will my house be a masterpiece of organizational functionality?  Probably not.  But I hope to be able to find the mail when it's time to pay the bills.  Will I become a person who is admired for her prowess?  Doubtful, unless the criteria is based upon my ability to bake a cupcake...  But even if all I accomplish is the successful telling of a bedtime story, that will be enough.  This year isn't dedicated to the big things.  I want this year to be focused on the little things.  Like hugs.  And kisses on owies.  And a favorite dessert after a hard day.  I want this year to be about JJ and Max and Zeke and HRH and The Boy and The Mister.  They are the big little things this year...   

   

 

Lunch on a Diet

I met a friend for lunch today.  She was running late, so I asked the waitress for the nutritional information on the menu items.  Boy, what a mistake.  What started as a casual get-together became a distressing cram session on fat content and caloric totals.  By the time my friend arrived, I wasn't sure I was brave enough to order anything but a cup of water (with a side of ice and a straw).

What is it about the size of menu offerings these days?  Since when does a simple bowl of oatmeal need to weight in at 520 calories?  And why do salads have 490 calories?  And what on earth is anyone thinking when they order a sandwich and side for 1210 calories...?  No wonder we are all getting fat (sorry, I didn't mean you, I should have said I...).

I've been doing the BodyBugg thing for about a month now.  I really like it, because it works for me.  Of course, the only reason it works is because I'm willing to be brutally honest.  In light of my new efforts, I'm going to repost my SkinnyR graph at the bottom of my blog.  Please cheer me on, and no snarky comments when I sneak a cookie is a weak moment!  Wish me luck!  

Guilty Pleasures

I have a guilty pleasure.  It's not chocolate (although that is certainly in the running).  It isn't sleeping late during the week (I wish it were, but I have 4 kids to get to the school bus).  It's that moment when I pull back into the garage, after waiting for the bus with the kids at the top of the street. 

Every morning I breathe a sigh of relief as I close the garage doors. That moment heralds a brief interlude in the hectic pace of my day.  Because I'm not a morning person, I try to avoid scheduling anything during that first hour that I'm alone.  I take pleasure in puttering around the house...  Doing laundry, or not.  Washing dishes, or not.  Sometimes I just sit on the couch and daydream for a few minutes.

I love that time of day...

*Funny that my musings brought me to this topic today.  The remainder of this post was written 2 hours after the initial sentence was scripted.

Today I pulled in to the garage fully anticipating a few minutes to myself.  I put off making the beds in favor of reading my favorite blogs and updating Facebook.  I sat around in my pajamas (I had showered, but neglected to find anything more comfortable to wear).  Suddenly, the phone rang.  The caller ID hinted that this wasn't going to be a good call.

JJ had fallen after getting off the school bus and was in the  front office.  It appeared that he might need stitches in his chin.  Ugh.  There goes the morning!  I ran out the door (yep, still in my jammies), with wet hair, and no makeup.  Oh, the start of a beautiful day...

Pocket Protectors Optional

I am willing to concede to being a bit of a technology addict.  Interpret that statement as you will.  I am familiar with the terms geek, nerd, dweeb, and techie, and you can feel free to add to the list. 

The truth is, I love the newest gadgets, and I love to be the first to get the latest upgrade.  I talk hands free  in my car via Bluetooth (I set it up myself).  I have XM Satellite Radio in my car.  Our house is wired for video, internet, and sound, all set up to work wirelessly.  I can run the EyeTV, Apple TV, and our 2 plasma TVs.  We have 2 mac computers, a PC, 2 laptops, and a netbook, all of which I am adept at operating.  I use iTunes, YouTube, and I can modify my blog template and backrounds.  I'm not an idiot!       

But I'm embarrased to admit that I was seriously stumped this morning.  My cleaning ladies were here yesterday.  They are a nice group of Spanish-speaking ladies (accompanied at times by a single guy...).  Several months ago they politely asked if they could turn on the whole-house speakers to listen to music while they worked.  I didn't see any reason why that would be a problem, so I agreed.  WHAT WAS I THINKING?  These quiet, mild-mannered ladies proceeded to crank up the music on their favorite All-Spanish-All-the-Time station.  I laughed a little to myself, and then promptly left the house before irreparably damaging my hearing.  I had forgotten all about the Spanish station, until this morning.

Somehow, in the process of changing the station and the volume settings, the ladies had also reset the clock, and programmed the radio to come on automatically at 9am today.  I was just stepping into the shower when a very loud, and unexpected noise blasted through the speakers from nearly every room in the house.  I smiled and proceeded to take my morning shower.  When I got out of the shower, the music had transitioned into some sort of talk show.  Although I don't speak any more Spanish than "si" and "gracias" it wasn't hard to find the chatter annoying.  Wrapped in a towel, I traipsed through the house to the master control console to turn off the music.  Boy, was I surprised to find that I couldn't turn it off!  I reset the clock, that didn't help.  I reset the starting time, that didn't help.  I reset the ending time, that didn't help.  I was dripping wet, frustrustrated, and contemplating the use of four letter words when I somehow got the noise to cease.  The biggest problem now is that I'm not sure it was a permanent fix.  I'm dreadfully afraid of a repeat event tomorrow morning...  Actually, since I changed the times, I hope it doesn't blast us out in the middle of the night!