Brenna Fender's blog

This morning I packed up two children, a school bag, a baby bag, and a cooler bag with formula in it for the day and left early for an 8:40am doctor's appointment. It was supposed to be a quickie just for flu shots for both kids. The nurse said when I made the appointment that my son might be just a little late for his 9am school. I dropped him off at school, which is five minutes from the doctor's office, at 10:15.

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I just wrote up a fairly poetic blog entry explaining my recent experiences in a diagnostic program with my daughter, but I committed the cardinal sin of bloggerdom - I composed in the uploading tool (as I'm doing now) and I didn't copy my entry. It got sucked into the vortex of Blogger Party, possibly never to be seen again. If you run across an entry titled "Because..." please let me know.

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I'm suffering from major "Mom Guilt" as I listen to my toddler laugh at yet another showing of the same inane Teletubbies episode as I try to get some work done. The stupid yellow one is trying to get an orange inflatable ball out of the world's smallest puddle. My daughter is "reading" a book but glances up frequently to laugh at the show.

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It's been a long while since I've written a blog entry with any substance to it, largely because life has had all the substance I can handle right now. I've been busy planning a trip to Denver, Colorado, where my now-19-month-old daughter and I (along with my mother, thank goodness) will be spending 16 nights in a hotel and as many days at a hospital.

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OK, not really. My phone still redials, thank goodness, since I'll be needing it to vote for David Cook on American Idol's finale Tuesday night. I've never been nervous during a vote-off night on AI before, but damn, I really, really wanted David to make it into the finals.

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The older I get, the more I realize that we, as a country, have our priorities pretty messed up. We care mostly about ourselves and our families and we don't do enough - as a
country, as a society, and as individuals - for each other.

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I just made myself a salad. "Made" is a bit of a stretch. I opened the "salad in a sack" package, poured some into a bowl, added a dash of cheese, and sprinkled on a little dressing. I noticed that the sack o' salad had a recipe for Cobb salad on the back. The prep time for this recipe was 25 minutes.

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I've been a member of my church for a long time. I chose it as a 12-year-old after visiting there with a friend and getting swept up in the youth activities. I had ties there anyway - I went to preschool there, just as my son does now. A really crappy picture of a pig-tailed me hangs amongst the class pictures on the walls.

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My preschool daughter is obsessed with batteries. I think double As are her favorite. She loves to walk around the house with them clutched in her hand. And putting them in and out of the box is a real treat.

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This is a test of the Tumblr blogging system. This is only a test. If this was an actual blog entry, you'd be reading interesting, thoughtful material at this time. You'd be laughing, or agreeing, or preparing a thoughtful counter-argument. Instead you're wondering why you clicked here.

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The television is a big presence in our house. It's not quite another family member - we don't invite it to dinner - but it's definitely a big part of our daily lives.

I realize that it is not cool to say that your kids watch TV. Television is blamed for a variety of ills, from hurting your eyes if you sit to close to causing ADHD (neither have been proven true, by the way). But for my family, child-themed shows and cable channels enrich our lives and give all of us some much-needed down time. Even my whirling dervish of a son can be calmed for the length of an occasional TV show (thank goodness). Don't worry, my kids get plenty of much-needed exercise and mental stimulation. Neither of them are fat, mindless slobs!

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I cannot write in my blog today
I'm sorry it has to be this way
But paying work calls
And night time falls
So it's time to write articles
Instead of play.

Who was it who challenged me to do this?

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Since I've been making a concerted effort to lose the last of the baby weight I gained during my long and complicated pregnancy with my now-16-month-old daughter, I try to get out to the YMCA to supplement my walking routine. The other day I went to a Latin-themed dance class. The first time I went to it, I attended a class held in this big basketball court, packed with other "dancers." This time, I went to a class held in an aerobics room, with mirrored walls, and only three other exercisers.

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Stop what you are doing right now and call 18664365706 to vote for David Cook on American Idol. I don't usually vote but oh my goodness, this guy is just incredible! I'd buy his version of Lionel Richie's "Hello," and I've always thought that everything Lionel Richie has done is pretty much crap. He's got a great alt rock voice, but beyond that he's arranging the music and totally doing different stuff every night.

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Why is it that a mouse in a pet store cage is adorable, but when one of those mice is spotted racing across the store and slipping behind a display, it's terribly creepy?

Similarly, why is hair that is actually attached to a human head attractive but the same hair on the floor, sink, or in your food is disgusting?

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