They just don't die

So...anyone that I've told my dreams to knows that I have really weird dreams. Some would be hilarious to have interpreted. Here's one I just had:
A guy throws up on the ground. He notices something moving around in it. He then pukes on the bench beside him and looks closely at the small white thing moving around in the middle of his vomit. He turns to the guy next to him and says, "It looks like a poodle." The guy says, "It may look like a prancing poodle, but it's a cockroach...or what's left of it anyway."

Another round of revisions

I spent most of today going through my book yet again-didn't make it all the way through. Tried to get Caitlin to type my new revision of the first half of ch. 1...she said she'll finish it tomorrow. I just can't type for a long time between my neck and wrist.
I'm hoping to get through everything tomorrow. I'm going to start back with my newly revised version for one critique group and just continue where I'm at with the other.
I have a feeling they're going to want more conversations in some parts, but it's already soooo long. (I just want to get to the good parts). :)

Geography

Ethan: "I think this was made in another state."
Me: "Which state do you think it was made in?"
Ethan: "I don't know...maybe China."

Revising revising revising

I went to another critique group last night-different one than my usual. Got a lot of constructive criticism, ideas and praise. I am now rewriting my first chapter...again. By the time I'm done it will be quite different from my original rough draft. The storyline won't change, but I am revising a lot...and considering we're only on ch.'s 1 and 2 in my critique groups...there are sure to be tons of revisions down the road.
I should probably work on book 2, too...my girls are anxious to read it.
Just not enough hours in my days.

Family names

Last night Caitlin was telling Destini and Ethan that our last name comes from our ancestors. Destini ran down to ask us who the real kings were in our ancestry, followed by Ethan asking, "Mom? Are you our an-sister?"