No pictures for us.

I think that if my life since having children were a play, it would have to be a farce.

A farce is a comedy written for the stage or film which aims to entertain the audience by means of unlikely, extravagant, and improbable situations, disguise and mistaken identity, verbal humour of varying degrees of sophistication, which may include sexual innuendo and word play, and a fast-paced plot whose speed usually increases, culminating in an ending which often involves an elaborate chase scene. Farce is also characterized by physical humour, the use of deliberate absurdity or nonsense, and broadly stylized performances.

That would be us. If you have ever seen my girls race around my kitchen island, which gives me heart palpitations, you would know that we could even include the chase scenes.

Today is the little one's birthday. She is two. That makes me both happy and sad, but that is for another post. Here, we are are going to focus on one of yet another improbable situations that make our lives a farce.

I like to have birthday portraits made on my child's actual birthday. I know that can often be a lofty ambition, as birthdays tend to be pretty hectic, but this one was set up perfectly. The big one has half days at school and would actually be able to go at a reasonable time. We were set. I got the confirmation call from the studio this morning, to make sure we would be there, and I did confirm. I spent a couple of hours early this morning going through all of the clothes that I had saved for posterity, looking for the dress the big one wore for her second birthday pictures. I had packed it away, thinking the little one wouldn't be able to wear it, but she can. So, I dug it out, managed to find the matching bloomers, and everything. Then, I got a second outfit that would match for both of them ready. Just as I was laying the clothes on the big one's bed, I hear a scream. I turn, and the little one, who had been rocking in their rocking chair, was now stuck in it. She decided to try to slip out the side of the chair, in the hole from the arm, Dukes of Hazzard style. She did really well, and managed to get her body out, but her head was stuck. Actually, she even got most of her head out. She was completely wedged in at her forehead. It took me a second to get her to be calm and still enough that I could lift her up from the bottom, and then work her out. In that time, she managed to give herself a pretty nasty mark.

I didn't cancel the pictures right away. I held out hope that the mark would soften. It does look better, but now it is a big red raised place. So, after nap, when it still wasn't looking passable for pictures, I tried every kind of makeup that I had on my baby. Nothing would cover. I needed some of that green makeup that blends out redness in skin, but I don't have it anymore.

So, I had to call, apologize, and change our pictures. I guess it might be better, though. Now, I can take the girls to play outside for a while, maybe even take the bubble machine along for fun. Then go get them something yummy to eat, before we get an ice cream cake for dessert.

I'll take a few myself in her big pretty pink dress. Hey, I bought Photo shop for a reason. The ones I take won't have any red marks, one way or another. They may not be as good as the ones I get taken, but they sure are lovingly retouched. = )

All in all, I'm sure it will still be great birthday with my two injury prone girls.

Computers are meant to torment me.

I moderate a message board. It is a job. An unpaid job. Sometimes I love it. Sometimes I loathe it. The election has made me often have feelings of the later.

Well, the election is over, but still the discussions go on.

We have an Election thread going on. I have stepped in twice to remind our members that the debate is not to get personal, yada yada.

Well, low and behold, someone posted that post. You know. The one that had me looking at my screen yelling "No. No. No!! Do you all hate me? Do you want to give me a heart attack at a tender young age?"

Okay. Maybe the tender young age part was a bit of an over or under statement, but non the less, I have to wonder why people post these things, and if they never consider what the moderators must go through by ways of gnashing teeth and blood pressure issues when they do so.

Well, I knew I had to jump into action immediately. I went to delete the post, and in another window, email the poster about why I had to remove it. As I clicked delete, my computer froze momentarily. I panicked. It took about 20 seconds, and the computer came back. Twenty seconds is more than enough to cause a riot, and i know that. I hit delete. It deleted.

So, I replied to the thread, in order to let everyone know that we will no longer be discussing this particular issue. The computer froze. My panic doubled. It took another 20 seconds to get the computer back.

I started my email to the member who had posted the item meant to cause me harm. The computer decided at that time that each key stroke would take a few second to appear. Each time I hit enter to move to another line, it was another 20 seconds.

I couldn't even check the board to see if the rioting had begun. It would have caused the computer to checkout completely. I had to be nice to it. I had to beg and plead with it. The computer knew it had me over a barrel.

It took nearly 9 minutes to get the entire thing sorted out, and have everyone involved in the process email, explained to, and all the other loose ends, hopefully tied up. Those nine minutes probably took 5 years off my life. Of course, had it gone to 10 minutes, I would have would up in a full panic attack on my way to the E.R. with not only 5 years of my life but a bill for at least $1,000 for the less than 2 mile ride to the hospital.

I think computers are smarter than we give them credit for. Some artificial intelligence is certainly to be found with in mine. How else could it have know to have problems at just the moment I was the most vulnerable?

So, I could certainly forgo all computers, and move back to the much safer pen and paper age. I could also go shopping for a new family computer and hope for one that hasn't developed such an intelligence yet.

However, I think I will try to work my way into a new laptop for myself as a Christmas gift this year, give my husband and kids the current possessed computer, and form a new, loving relationship with the new computer. I will promise to dust it often, and never eat or drink while I am using it, if only it will promise never to fail me at such a scary time again. Ok. I will also promise to give it anything it wants, because I'm sure that it, too, will soon realize that it really has me over a barrel, and can do anything it wants. The computer will just be waiting for the moment that someone else posts something that is bound to cause some sort of all out online war, and the moment it does, even my new love will freeze on me, as a reminder that it always has the power, and it would like a little appreciation for all of its work, and maybe some new memory while I am at it.