I don't ever think I'm affected by the seasons - at least not in a clinically diagnosed sort of way, but I have to admit that last Thursday? Not much could have affected my mood. Or the mood of those I encountered. You see, we had sunshine (on a cloudy day? I kid...). And it was ABOVE freezing before I took Sammy to school. Only by a couple of degrees, but you would think it was a blast of 70* weather. Every February, I'm lulled into false sense of spring. Every February I fall for it. As I did, happily, again this year. Just enough to shake the stench of January off of me. Just enough to hope.
I bought a flannel shirt last week. I love it. And it completely reminds me of the one I nearly stole from a friend of my sisters when I was in college (even though it is a completely different color). It may have been two decades ago, but I'm still sorry I actually found him in order to return it. It was pure '90s flannel goodness.
Girls: BUY A SPANX BRA. You'll thank me. The end.
The first of my partial 39 things list has been planned. My sister and I will be headed to my parents house this summer for a couple of weeks, sans boys (well, except the littlest boy). I'm SO looking forward to it, even though I'm already missing my husband. It's an illness how much I adore that man.
My sister and I are counting down the time until Depeche Mode announces their US concert dates. We are both GIDDY with anticipation and cannot wait. We also are pretty intent to get the Def Leppard group together again to go. Because....EEEEEEE! I still dream of their last concert. If their brand new video (it's ok...I'll wait) is any indication? A fanflippingtastic time will be had by all.
Neil Finn spoke at Yale last year. The video is up. So awesome.
I have never wanted Isaac to need cufflinks more than when I saw these. Just...so cool.
I had a discussion with my son last week about the appropriateness (or lack of...) kissing at school. I may have killed my sister in the retelling of it. Quite by accident, of course. But, really, is there any good that can come of a conversation that starts, "Mom, is it appropriate to kiss at school?"? Sigh. Where's that manual, again?
(i don't want to be a hero, johnny hates jazz)