How to fix it so I can send you sweet ass email replies to your comments!

Because you can never get too many fun emails from meeeeee!  Lately I've had a lot of new visitors and several fun new commenters here at {So Wonderful, So Marvelous} and I love it.  What I don't love is trying to reply to comments you've made here and getting the dreaded noreply-comment@blogger.com dum dum duuuuummmmm.  Then I have to try to find you and feel like an idiot responding to a question or comment on your blog that has nothing to do with what you're talking about and I want to visit you too but to read what YOU'VE writen not responding to what I've written.  So, in the spirit of bloggy community and all that blah blah blah, I'm going to show you how to fix it if you so choose. Maybe you're a dumbass like I am and didn't even know any of this.  I fixed mine a few months ago and it's amazing how many bloggers can now reach me to follow up with comments and answer questions that I have left on their blogs.  I just thought they were snotty non-aswerers before.

• You see the little button up there in the right hand corner of Blogger that says Dashboard?  Click on it.
• Then click on Edit Profile right there next to your picture. {Incidentally, if you don't have a picture, add one so we can all see your pretty mug next to your comments.}
• Under privacy click the little box that says Show My Email Address.  This doesn't post your email anywhere weird, it just allows bloggers to reply to your comments.
• If you'd like, {or you can skip this} you can scroll down to the Identity section and change your email address to whatever you'd like or just keep it the same email that you use to log into Blogger.  {So if you're nervous about having your email out there, create an email address that you only use for blogging!}
• Save your profile!  TA DAAAAA You're done. 

And then I can answer your questions, or say hello and thanks for stopping by, or just tell you that you're a total wanker.  Or mostly, all of the aforementioned things in one pretty package.

Oh, and if you're so inclined and want to read my crazy posting that is never on any kind of schedule and let's face it, you have to deal with my occassional colorful word choices too, click on the RSS link and add me to your Reader.  You can also get an email of the {So Wonderful, So Marvelous} posts by popping your email address into that box over on the right if you're RSS impaired.  No judgement here peeps.  No judgement here.

Happy Thursday!

There Are Days.

There are days when I'm quite sure that the neighbors think I am killing my child because he screams at the top of his lungs until he is hoarse.  Days when he wakes up at 7:15 am and neither of us has had enough sleep. 

He is two, I keep reminding myself as I cancel lunch plans to accomodate the crazies.

Days when I haven't had enough coffee.  Days when I stick him in his bed and attempt to ignore the insanity & pray he falls asleep.  Days when I know that only a nap will help.

He is two, I remind myself as I walk out of the room, take a deep breath and try to bring my blood pressure down.

Days when he is so overwhelmed with emotion & mental exhaustion that he doesn't know how to not jump and thump and scream.  Days when my husband is out of town and I don't have a break at lunch or 5:00... or at all.

He is two, I murmur to myself while making a second cup of coffee and doubt if I am made for this.

And then, there is blissful silence and I know he's getting the rest he needs.  I know in my head that when he wakes up he will be a different child, he will find me and snuggle me and be my sweet boy.  It doesn't take the sting away of knowing that I yelled at him when I should have remained calm.  Now though, I have a moment to myself, to regroup.  To sit and hear nothing but the traffic whizzing by.  People going home for lunch, going back to work.  And I remember how lucky I am that I get the privelege of watching him grow before my very eyes.

Even on those days.  Especially on those days.

NBC might be the suckiest bunch of sucks that ever sucked.

{Artist Mike Mitchell ROCKS} 

{Oh and he wants peeps to use and post his Conan image.  Do it if you're so inclined.}

I'm reading the following as I'm watching my boy.

The Consumerist

NYT

You know I'm not a Twit{terer} but I'm Team Conan.

So, NBC pull your head out of your asses or I'm boycotting and I'm guessing that since you have only about 3 viewers right now, maybe you might want to hold onto the ones you've got.

And supporting my boy Works for Me.  I had an actual post about something helpful tonight, but it was preempted by Leno.  If you want to see some actual helpful tips, head on over to We Are THAT Family.

I have a problem. Clearly.

It's not the first time.  There was West Wing.  And Sex in the City.  The Gillmore Girls don't really count because I've only watched Season One, the same with Weeds.  But Big Love does, oh those polygamists.  Those enchanting fictictionalized polygamists.  And Entourage, sweet sweet Entourage, those boys are beyond.  Beyond what?  Just beyond.  Sigh.

When you don't have cable, you don't know about things like Big Love or Entourage until they come out on dvd.  And sometimes not until they're off the air {The Sopranos are still on my list} so you don't miss it while it's on live tv because you don't know about it AND you have the added benefit of watching one after another, no commercials, and bonus features.  Bonus features people.  We will literally spend a week watching show after show because it's so dang good and we have to see what's next!

Which brings me to my current addiction problem. You know about my secret love of the Gossip Girl books right?  But the series.  The seeeeeries, dear sweet narcissistic delicious series.  I bought Season One on Black Friday for super cheap at Tar-jay and I haven't had a minute really to watch until now.  Oh, and what I mean to say is that I watched all five disks this past week.  It's totally different from the books, but still SO fun to watch. 

I'm Chuck Bass jonesing for Blair Waldorf.  Oh yes, yes I am.

So, what are your delicious addictions?