Jan. 27 - Down to 60 degrees, you say? I'm breaking out the sweater.

Today I learned that I don't miss this:

Nope. Not at all. This afternoon it struck me that I did my grocery shopping in flip flops and shorts, and then I washed the pollen off the pool deck. And it's January.

The longer I have lived in Florida, the more I've come to appreciate the hot, oppressive summers balmy weather. Those of you who are fellow transplants might agree that this change comes in stages.

Stage 1: When I first moved to Florida I was shocked to meet people who had never touched real snow. Granted, I loved that you could be outside year-round down here. But I missed the colder weather during football games and being able to wear cute sweatshirts on a regular basis (a staple of my late-80s wardrobe).

Stage 2: Within about five years I saw the merits in the shorter "winter" we have here. I had also gotten a bit more used to the summer heat; marching in 90 degree weather wearing a full-body band uniform will do that to you. But I still lamented the absence of truly cold weather over the holidays, and I wished it would snow a few times a year.

Stage 3: About three years ago I turned on the Weather Channel to see that they were broadcasting live on Christmas Day from Key West. They showed people wearing bathing suits and Santa hats, enjoying beers and boat drinks on the pier. I turned to my husband and said, "You know, that looks kind of nice..."

Stage 4: Now I bitch if I have to wear socks.

This year I'm making holiday flip-flops. The way I see it... the first Christmas was in a desert. Why should I have to suffer in the name of authenticity?

Jan. 26 - My husband needs a shotgun

Today I learned my daughter is the coolest girl in the universe.

The girl loves to work out - the kids' machines at the gym, Zumba class, jogging trampoline, ab-roller, you name it. So I told her that when she goes to college someday she could major in exercise and sports science, and her career could be showing people how to get and stay in shape. (And obviously, I could be her first client.) Then I said that she could even work with professional athletes.

Her wide-eyed gasp of a reaction? "Oh my gosh... like Ray Rice?!"

While my daughter likes football enough, her knowledge has been limited to Jaguars players since that's her favorite team. I had no idea she even knew who Ray Rice was; none of us are Baltimore fans, and he didn't exactly light it up on Sunday in the Ravens' loss to New England. But apparently she was paying attention.

Oh yeah, she also won our NFL playoff picks brackets, screams at the refs during Gator basketball games and loves The Three Stooges.

The line to take her to prom forms here. Unless my husband has put her in a convent by then.

Jan. 25 - I meant to do that

Today I learned that if you're trying to win a big jackpot in a radio contest, you should not take a shower.

Because - hypothetically speaking, of course - you might try to take that shower during the time span of one song (and crank up the stereo so you can hear it over the water) so you don't miss that cue to call the radio station. You might even strategically place your phone within your reach near the shower, so you have it handy in case the cue plays.

But in your haste, you might turn the water on so hot that you scald your back.

You might shampoo so fast that you don't quite rinse all the suds out of your hair.

You might forget halfway through your shower that you had makeup on earlier in the day, so you tug at your eyelashes to remove your mascara - only to get a chunk of the black stuff (or maybe an eyelash, or a plank) in your eye.

While you frantically rinse your face, some of those suds from your shampoo might get into your eye and make the pain worse.

Once you are completely soap-free (although probably not pain-free), you might turn off the water just in time to hear the cue to call the radio station. That might also be the time that your cordless phone's battery goes dead.

You might wrap your soaking self in a towel and dash to the kitchen to grab a charged phone. Your young daughter might come around the corner and just miss seeing your barely-covered ass. And you might slip and almost kill yourself on the wet ceramic tile.

And you might not even get through on the phone lines.

So please, if you're trying to win a radio contest, deal with your own stink. Because I've heard that all of this can happen.

Hypothetically speaking, of course.

Jan. 24 - Why yes, I do enjoy sticking needles in my eyes. Thank you.

Today I learned that no matter how tired I am, and no matter how disgusted I am with the state of politics... I'll still watch the State of the Union address.

Why do I do this? Because I'm a dumbass. It's the same rah-rah crap every year (albeit more palatable without Pelosi smarming in the background). I rarely learn anything. And I'm always vaguely reminded of Catholic mass.

Instead, I find it far more interesting to passively listen to what the president says while observing the goings-on around him. So if you were actually paying attention to the jabber between the cheers (or Bronx cheers), let me fill you in on the good stuff.

1) Soon after I tune in, I realize that I’ve got it on a Fox station when Shepherd Smith is on my screen. (Is it me, or does he look suddenly alien with his gaunt face and wide-set almond shaped eyes?) Anyway, the only thing I find more offensive than Fox news broadcasts are those by MSNBC. So I’m about to change the channel when...

2) The female correspondent Smith cuts to says that Michelle Obama will have “several people in her box tonight.” She’s speaking, of course, of the guests she will sit with during the speech. But my inner 12-year-old is quite pleased, and my clicker stays put.

3) The president’s arrival is announced, and after two minutes he's maybe halfway down the aisle. We are told some members of Congress arrive hours early to get those seats so they can grab Obama’s ear and push their agendas. Wow - that explains so much. Like why they don't get anything done. "Sure, I'd love to pass this bill to create a million jobs, but the SOTU is in three days and I gotta pack the tent." I can only imagine what they go through for Black Friday.

4) Ruth Bader Ginsberg looks like a cross between Joe Paterno and my mother-in-law. Weird.

5) Great moment of the night - the cheers as Obama sweetly hugs Gabby Giffords. If that didn't make you smile, your heart is made of... no, wait - you don't have one.

6) Just before he speaks, Obama gives Joe Biden and John Boehner what appear to be large greeting cards in yellow envelopes. I'm guessing they're copies of his speech, but it's much more fun to think they'll open them up and get a great Hoops and Yo-Yo bit. Or maybe Biden's is a get well card; between the handkerchief he pulls out, the red nose and the coughing, he doesn't look too hot.

7) Michelle Obama feels exactly the same way about her husband’s jokes as the rest of us feel about our own husbands’ jokes. The president mocked someone's comparison of oil to milk, then mentioned how it was okay to "cry over spilled milk" in that case. The good God, baby, you did not just say that look on the First Lady's face was priceless. Yes, honey. We've been there. We feel your pain.

8) "Spot the Republicans" is a lot harder now that Congress has decided to sit together. Oh, that's just great. The one time these bozos can agree on something it screws up my fun. Maybe I should just welcome the new challenge?

9) Wow, Obama finished maybe five minutes ago and the lights are already off in the House chamber. And we know that can only mean one thing...

PARTY AT BIDEN'S!

Jan. 23 - Facing my failings

Today I learned that no matter how much time I have on my hands, I will find an excuse to not exercise.

I used to work full time and always said, "If I didn't have a full time job I'd be in such great shape!" There was always a reason to put the workouts off - hours at the office, housework at home, my freelance work on the side... it all got in the way.

But now I work part time from home. My kids are in school in the morning and part of the afternoon. Yes, I still have plenty of freelance work, along with a home and kids to take care of. But I have a great workout video that only takes 20-ish minutes and kicks my ass. I have a rebounder, ab cruncher, Pilates ball and a YMCA membership. Most importantly, I have time to do this.

And yet here I am, at my highest non-pregnant weight ever. Again. Not huge, but certainly uncomfortable in my clothes. I eat healthy foods for the most part. I just hate working out.

It stops now. It has to.

Jan. 22 - Can we still use "da bomb" these days?

Today I learned that I'm da bomb. I found this out courtesy of a phone call from my son while I was at the grocery store:

Son: Mom, are you still at Publix?
Me: Yes, I'm just finishing at the checkout.
Son: NOOOOOOO! You have to go back! We just saw a commercial for Multi Grain Cheerios with peanut butter. You have to go back! Please??
Me: Oh, really? Well, I guess it's a good thing I already bought two boxes.
Son: (Pause) OHHHH YEAAAHHHHH! MOM, YOU'RE DA BOMB!! AWESOME!

Stuff like this is one thing I love about this age. (Aside from the fact that he included the "Multi Grain" to prove that he's being healthy - hee...) At 12 they're on the cusp of their teenage years. They're going skating by themselves, adjusting to having a different teacher for each subject and asking each other about girls. And yet they still get excited about cereal.

It's like last year when my son had two friends sleep over and I set up the fixings for ice cream sundaes. I asked them whether they wanted chocolate, vanilla or strawberry when one asked if they could have all three. "Sure," I said, "why not?" With the way they all screamed, you'd have thought I just bought them a keg.

I know it's not going to last forever, but I'll hang on to that "Awesome" label my kids have given me as long as I can. Maybe they'll want peanut butter cereal after prom? A mom can only hope.

Jan. 20... okay, Jan. 21 - The first hiccup

This morning I learned that I can't travel back in time to write a missed blog.

I prefer to blame it on the munchkins who invited friends for a sleepover last night. As much as I love to write, my to-do list last night was quite full:

* sing karaoke
* construct and devour ice cream sundaes
* make quicksand out of cornstarch and water (seriously, so cool)
* listen to endless fits of girly giggles and pre-teen boy "OH YEAH, THAT'S IT!" outbursts as video games are played

It wasn't until after the early morning Dunkin Donuts run (spurred on by two wide-eyed girls I found curled up on the kitchen floor asking me, "Can we go to Dunkin Donuts with you?") that I realized I'd forgotten my nightly post.

I'm bummed that I missed it just a few weeks into the year, but I figure I've got a good excuse. Back in the saddle again today!