Monday, March 3, 2014


Oh Sunday. Spent on a wild goose chase instead of blogging. I am disappointed. I sprinted the whole race only to face plant a foot before the finish line. 6 out of 7 posts.

I am a tad competitive so I WILL be writing my 7th post. Just a day late.

Yesterday was nuts. I was on a mad-dash hunt for old man wares. You know- Black socks with sandals, Hawaiian get the picture.
Photo credit: davidpbrown via Visualhunt / CC BY

A family member was turning 40 and I wanted to help usher him into this new era of fashion. After hours of searching....I had black socks in my possession. Great 40th birthday present, eh? Happy birthday...have some black socks.


I gave up and said 40 year old got a gift card.....Sleep deprivation. You are NO FRIEND OF MINE.

Last night was painful again. I have no idea why my son will not sleep. He just wont. I have tried everything. Everything.

So, last night I chose to focus my irritation on my sweet hubby and when that failed to satisfy, I turned to poetry.


SO, here is my thought. A giveaway and a contest. I am going to whack 2 birds with one stone!

Submit a poem in the comments about turning 40 OR sleep deprivation and you will be entered to win some black socks. They are nice. . .. complete with gold toes. I KNOW you want them.

Here is my poem from 3 am:

Oh Night! Oh! Torturous Night!
How I long to pass 
Unaware through your inky depths.
Straight and true til light breaks through
Awakened better for the time spent in your dark embrace
Oh Night! Oh Never-ending Night!


  1. Not too bad for a nocturnal reverie!

  2. Since I am oh so close to 40 (a year and half away, but still...and because my hubby loves those black socks with gold toes (and he's not 40 yet either!)) I will attempt a poem:

    Lordy, Lordy I'm almost 40!
    Where has the time gone?
    My babies don't need me,
    My hubby is needy,
    And I'm ready to retire to Guam!

    Ok, I'm no poet but I tried. Yes, we did start our family early and only have about 5 years left before retirement. Enjoy the sleepless nights as best you can because when they are 6'2" and 220lbs, you can't rock them to sleep anymore. :(
    BTW- I'm reliving my baby days vicariously through your posts! Haha Oh how I miss the sweet smell of baby hair. Alecia

    1. AWESOME! I will send you a message so I can send you some socks!

  3. Oh forty.
    How you glistened.
    I had no idea.
    But now that I am fifty-two,
    I remember you and your sequined shoes;
    you of the dramatic nights of insomnia and self doubt,
    of the contemplation of My Place In The World,
    during which I had yet to learn to fall asleep with my glasses still on,
    nor yet how to fart myself awake;
    you of the hearty laugh
    requiring no discreet trip to the bathroom afterwards;
    you, oh forty,
    of the late nights with Leno,
    the Hot Pockets with no consequences,
    the still lingering hope of disguising both acne and wrinkles.
    You, oh forty, with the mailbox without any coupons for Depends
    or life insurace without a medical exam,
    or subscription offers from AARP.
    Oh forty,
    ten years yet from the eventual colonoscopies of time,
    you glittered like a star, or at least some dusty tinsel left over from the tree from where I forgot to vacuum under the couch.
    You were remarkable, you and your visions of glory and doom
    and mortgages.
    I remember you. You didn't suck too much,
    I suppose.
    I had something else important to tell you,
    but I forget.
    Now please excuse me,
    and politely get out of my way.
    I am fifty two
    I have drunk the 20 oz Coscto coke
    and I must pee.

    1. I KNEW YOU WOULD KNOCK MY SOCKS OFF! I love it! And major props to you! I cannot drink a 20 oz of coke!! High 5!
      Socks in the mail for you too!