I’ve been Googled….or is that ogled?

So I was looking at my keyword analysis from Statcounter (something I do from time to time to make sure I am not attracting perverts, which I seem to be really good at doing) and was really kind of amazed at the different words people use that lead them to my blog.

A smattering for you:

“90 days madman cycle” (a principle taught in our business)
“homemade lipstick” (I have absolutely no idea)
“acine de pepe” (I’m afraid I started that one with this recipe)
“integrity music” (A distant relative worked for the President of Integrity)
“restrooms greyhound buses” (Oh the memories that conjures up!)
“killing fleas high heat” (So…if your house burned down, I guess the fleas would be the least of your worries?)
“bra size chart double dang” (Yes, I actually posted on that a long time ago)
“vacuum suck you up” (Well, I did enter a contest for a new one)
“pants lowcut today” (The very bane of my existence)

What kinds of words do people use to find you?

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rEVOLUTIONary thought

A girl was talking to her teacher about whales.
The teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human because even though it was a very large mammal its throat was very small.
The girl stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale.
By now irritated, the teacher reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human; it was physically impossible.
The girl said, “When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah”.
The teacher asked, “What if Jonah went to hell?”
The little girl replied, “Then you can ask him”.

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Give me privacy or give me a weekend getaway…

I read this on my friend Lisa’s blog and thought it was so cute, I just had to go and “borrow” it from her. As moms, I know most of us can totally relate to this. If you can’t, it just means your kids aren’t old enough yet…just wait — your turn’s a comin’!


Please do not stand here and talk, whine, or ask questions.
Wait until I get out.
Yes, it is locked. I want it that way. It is not broken, and I am not trapped.
I know I have left it unlocked, and even open at times, since you were born, because I was afraid some horrible tragedy might occur while I was in there, but it’s been 10 years and I want some PRIVACY.
Do not ask me how long I will be. I will come out when I am done.
Do not bring the phone to the bathroom door.
Do not go running back to the phone yelling “She’s in the BATHROOM!”
Do not begin to fight as soon as I go in.
Do not stick your little fingers under the door and wiggle them. This was funny when you were two.
Do not slide pennies, LEGOs, or notes under the door. Even when you were two this got a little tiresome.
If you have followed me down the hall talking, and are still talking as you face this closed door, please turn around, walk away, and wait for me in another room. I will be glad to listen to you when I am done.
And yes, I still love you.

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Which end did THAT come from?

My son, who reminds us daily that he is going to be FIVE! YEARS! OLD! in three months told me tonight as he was looking at his plate that he no longer wishes to eat beans because they make his bootie (our term for butt) sore.

I asked him how beans could possibly make his bootie hurt when he rarely eats them anyway. My husband smiled knowingly from his end of the couch and said to me, “Instinct.”

To which my son replied, “Yeah, mom…end stinks!”

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