The Circle of Life - Dinosaur Style

For those of you who have never met my son, Lucas, in person - here he is. Who would have thought that, as a six-year-old watching "The Land Before Time," I was not only watching a moving story about dinosaurs (and passive-aggressive comments on global warming), but I was seeing what my future child would be like. Seriously, Lucas is the personification of Spike. I'm relatively certain that, as time goes by, Gavin will be leading all sorts of adventures while Lucas follows happily along eating and going with the flow. This will be great if they ever get in a land before time-type situation, since Lucas could find a week-old cheerio embedded in carpet in about six seconds flat. So, when Armageddon hits, follow Lucas if you need help finding food.

If you are following Lucas, however, do not get on an airplane with him. He may be sweet, good-natured Spike on the ground, but in the air he turns into that dinosaur that bumps things with its skull. He just gets angry and seems intent on making as much noise as possible while drooling and head-butting anything around him. If you don't know what I'm talking about, go ahead and google "pachycephalosaurus." According to Wikipedia, this dinosaur also had "wide flanks," which is yet another similarity between Lucas and a dinosaur. So, next time you think about taking a one-year-old on a three-hour plane trip, just imagine what it would be like to carry a hungry pachycephalosaurus on your lap while sitting in a tiny seat on a tiny airplane surrounded by weirdos (I'm taking about you weird lady who asked to hold my baby)...and then realize that you would probably rather walk across a barren, lava-infested landscape while being chased by a t-rex. Yep yep!

Remember what a biotch Cera was in that movie? I guess it takes all kinds...

Errry Day

I read somewhere that if you want to start a legitimate blog you should post often...as in...multiple times a day. Well, I realized I don't have enough interesting things to say to post once a week. And, I'm not sure what will happen once the Red Wings stop playing because I just realized that most of my recent posts have been during Red Wings' games. Haha, Trav just walked over here to talk to me and glanced at the computer...I'm not sure that he is even aware that I have a blog. Not that he isn't interested or supportive (well, ok, he's not interested, but he is supportive, sorta, about the important things anyway).

I think we end up with people that balance us. For example, Trav may not realize how funny and I am and how interesting my blogs are to read, but this is a good thing because it keeps me grounded...hahahaha, see how funny I am? But for real, I think if I had someone exactly like me I would be in deep trouble. We'd have 15 babies and 42 dogs and cats and would be way in debt because when I said, "Oh my gosh, that house is so cute, I know it is a million dollars but we should buy it!" the person would say "You're right, gotta take advantage of the market!" and then we'd end up living in my parent's basement or possibly a large box. Oh, I would also be about 300 pounds because we would love pizza and beer and that would be all we would eat except for the occasional french fry (you have to eat your veggies).

I think I balance Trav, too, since I make him do things he's not usually comfortable with like, talk to people, stop throwing furniture during Michigan State basketball, feed the dog....

But seriously, I don't necessary think that "opposites attract," at least not in our case, because we aren't opposites, but I think it is important to complement one another. I'm definitely neater than I used to be (although not "Lindsey" neat, wow, epiphany, what's up female Trav)! And Trav is a little more laid back about things...ok that's a lie...but anyway.

Oh, look who's trying to be a comedian. I just asked Trav if he feels like we compliment each other and he said "You're a little bit country, I'm a little bit rock 'n roll." At least my sense of humor is rubbing off on him.

Well well...

lookey here! I can blog at work! That is good, because I have an observation I'd like to make...notice I said observation, not complaint. I don't want people think I'm a debbie downer or complaining cathy or any other alliterative name like that.

So...toilet sheet covers/protectors. I get the point, especially in a gross public bathroom like a gas station or a bar. But really, isn't it just more to think about when you're in an office setting or a cleaner public bathroom? I mean, think about it, either hover or don't, but in the end you are still in a public bathroom and, unless you cover yourself in latex, you will be exposed one way or another to germs. The thing I have more of a problem with is people who flush with their feet. I'm sorry if you're one of them, but really, unless there is crap all over the handle, just use your hands and wash them afterwards! You are putting your shoes, which have been who knows where, on a place where many people touch. And then you go out and, even if you wash your hands, you turn on the faucet or dispense the soap or the paper towels or open the door or whatever...you must touch something, right? Unless you're totally on top of things and you case the place out beforehand and know everything is automatic and hatch an evil scheme to get out without touching a thing (and in that case you might need some professional help), you will get a germ or two on you! Oh, and not to mention that eventually you will have to touch something other people have touched. The door out of the office, or the copy machine, or the microwave handle. Oh, better late than never, here's a disclaimer: don't read this if you are prone to germaphobia.

I'm not saying that if you can't avoid germs you might as well take a bath in the toilet...just saying that your efforts are futile. FUTILE!!!!

Oh, and while I'm on the topic, did you ever hear the story of what happened to the Volkernator on her way down to Florida one year? I'll be nice and not post it on here, but lets just say it involves poop...on her hand...that wasn't her own.