Don't Call It a Comeback

Well, I started a blog last Spring. It went nowhere. Fast. There was a big life change that made for some probable blog entries that would bring down even the smilingest cast member of Glee. And they smile alot! So, rather than try to steer the iceberg-headed ship around the drama and back on track, I've decided to start over.  As a stay-at-home mom, I don't get out alot. Sometimes the most productive thing I do in a day is change from my night-time yoga pants into my daytime yoga pants. And I don't do yoga. I try to find humour in everyday life....it's there if you look for it, and if my kids were your kids, you wouldn't have to look far to find it.
I'm on Facebook. Who the heck isn't? And my status lines sum up the most recent of "events" around here. But sometimes, more explanation is needed....and since not everyone needs or wants to hear the details...the ones who do can come here!
I was actually bullied into starting my first blog, and recently my bully did that hand motion where you punch your fist into your other palm in a menacing motion, and it gave me the nudge I needed to come back. So, hello!
Not sure where to go with my first post other than to give you an idea of what's going on at my house right now. The dryer's running. The dishwasher's running. My daughter is napping in her Big Girl Bed. I, with my daytime yoga pants on, am taking a moment. The fact is, the game I play on my Blackberry was giving me a headache, so I had to do something else with my eyeballs.
Okay, that sums that up.
Soooo....um.....Can someone tell me why in the name of all that makes sense in the world, when I google kid-friendly school lunches" for my other non-napping kid, I am directed to a site whose list included such gems as fondues and fresh fruit kebabs?  Seriously? The highly stylized photos looked yummy, sure...but do they think I'm going to send my good plates to school in an Ottawa Senators lunchbag so that I can carefully fan out the fruit kebabs as to not taint the light green melons pieces with the colour sure to run from the mushy-by-noon blueberries? Get real. I'm lucky to have a juicebox to send with the kid. Ugh.