Holy sh*t balls, ya'll... just looky to yer left. No... your other left. That's right! You aren't seeing things... I MADE A BADGE! Holy crap. Now, I know it sucks as I spent all of 10 minutes on the poor sucker but I figured the d*amn thing out so WHOOT!
Gawd I hope it works. Not that you'll care... ;)
Yeek... I really need to try harder next time....
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
No really... Who Am I?
Tag! I'm it! The lovely Ms. Dina Marie of A Plucky Procrastinator (she is double boiled chocolate awesome-sauce and you should really check her out) tagged me on the book the other day and I was all like... well... I'm not sure WHO I am. Maybe these questions will help? We'll see......
1. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? B.F.E. KY... not the lube, fools.
2. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER SOMEONE? It's an old family name from the mother country so totally applicable today. Way to go Dad.
3. IF YOU HAVE CHILDREN, HOW MANY DO YOU HAVE? 2... I think. They just won't stop moving long enough to count and they make enough mess for at least a baker's dozen worth of folks....
4. HOW MANY PETS DO YOU HAVE? 2 dogs... not kids right? Because they both smell a little....
5. YOUR WORST INJURY? It really is too early in the day to talk about my perineum so... I have a giant scar on my back from a teething toddler classmate. It has grown as I have grown and now is just waiting for it's inevitable surgical removal. Maybe I can have a two-fer... my scar and Fred, my golf ball-sized uterine cyst?
6. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? I can work my children's bowel movements into any conversation. I'm magic like that.
7. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE THING TO BAKE? Kielbasa and potatoes....
8. FAVORITE FAST FOOD? Burger King Whopper w/ Cheeze!
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? There are sooooo many other good ways to die......
10. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Assholes... not the actual ones... just if they are one or not.
11. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? My son whines and cries enough for all of us.....
12. ANY CURRENT WORRIES? Bail or college fund?
13. NAME 3 DRINKS YOU DRINK REGULARLY. Coffee with cream (no sugar), unsweet tea, and more unsweet tea. I despise sugar in my libations and cannot abide plain water.
14. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE BOOK? LOTR... and if you don't know, I can't help you.
15. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE A PIRATE? Hmmmmm... trapped on a boat for weeks at a time with a bunch of hygiene challenged men who are absolutely riddled with syphilis.... I'm going to say no.
16. FAVORITE SMELLS? Newborn hair, freshly turned earth, and lemon Lysol.
17. WHY DO YOU BLOG? So no one dies. It's a catharsis of sorts....
18. WHAT SONG DO YOU WANT PLAYED AT YOUR FUNERAL? I will not be put in the ground. Instead, I would like to be burned on a pyre after all my useful parts have been donated so, I guess no music. Afterwards I want all my loved ones to have a huge party with tons of good food and effective drinks and for them to tell scathing and titillating lies about me....
19. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? That I have no least favorite things. Things are or they aren't. Self-deprecating humor is not always truth. It's an equalizer. (Okay... THAT sounded way more uppity than I intended. What I meant was, I don't have the time nor the inclination to hate all the wiggly streched out bits on myself. My children love me whole and my husband loves me absolutely .. why should they be wrong?)
20. FAVORITE HOBBY? I get to have hobbies? But I have kids....
21. WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A FRIEND? A nice ass. That goes for you too, ladies.
22. NAME SOMETHING YOU'VE DONE THAT YOU NEVER THOUGHT YOU'D DO. Work for the man... and like it. :)
23. FAVORITE FUN THINGS TO DO? Sleep, nap, and relax. In that order. They are in such short supply these days....
24. ANY PET PEEVES? Doomsday Preppers. The actual folks, not the show. That's just silly. If there really is a zombie apocalypse, a world wide power outage, or a nuclear disaster do you really think a hole in the ground and 80 cases of Tofu Jambalaya and canned green beans are going to save you? Really?
25. WHAT'S THE LAST THING THAT MADE YOU LAUGH? My Hubbs at lunch. He said some funny things about spicy, moist chicken balls....
1. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? B.F.E. KY... not the lube, fools.
2. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER SOMEONE? It's an old family name from the mother country so totally applicable today. Way to go Dad.
3. IF YOU HAVE CHILDREN, HOW MANY DO YOU HAVE? 2... I think. They just won't stop moving long enough to count and they make enough mess for at least a baker's dozen worth of folks....
4. HOW MANY PETS DO YOU HAVE? 2 dogs... not kids right? Because they both smell a little....
5. YOUR WORST INJURY? It really is too early in the day to talk about my perineum so... I have a giant scar on my back from a teething toddler classmate. It has grown as I have grown and now is just waiting for it's inevitable surgical removal. Maybe I can have a two-fer... my scar and Fred, my golf ball-sized uterine cyst?
6. DO YOU HAVE A SPECIAL TALENT? I can work my children's bowel movements into any conversation. I'm magic like that.
7. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE THING TO BAKE? Kielbasa and potatoes....
8. FAVORITE FAST FOOD? Burger King Whopper w/ Cheeze!
9. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP? There are sooooo many other good ways to die......
10. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE? Assholes... not the actual ones... just if they are one or not.
11. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? My son whines and cries enough for all of us.....
12. ANY CURRENT WORRIES? Bail or college fund?
13. NAME 3 DRINKS YOU DRINK REGULARLY. Coffee with cream (no sugar), unsweet tea, and more unsweet tea. I despise sugar in my libations and cannot abide plain water.
14. WHAT'S YOUR FAVORITE BOOK? LOTR... and if you don't know, I can't help you.
15. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE A PIRATE? Hmmmmm... trapped on a boat for weeks at a time with a bunch of hygiene challenged men who are absolutely riddled with syphilis.... I'm going to say no.
16. FAVORITE SMELLS? Newborn hair, freshly turned earth, and lemon Lysol.
17. WHY DO YOU BLOG? So no one dies. It's a catharsis of sorts....
18. WHAT SONG DO YOU WANT PLAYED AT YOUR FUNERAL? I will not be put in the ground. Instead, I would like to be burned on a pyre after all my useful parts have been donated so, I guess no music. Afterwards I want all my loved ones to have a huge party with tons of good food and effective drinks and for them to tell scathing and titillating lies about me....
19. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? That I have no least favorite things. Things are or they aren't. Self-deprecating humor is not always truth. It's an equalizer. (Okay... THAT sounded way more uppity than I intended. What I meant was, I don't have the time nor the inclination to hate all the wiggly streched out bits on myself. My children love me whole and my husband loves me absolutely .. why should they be wrong?)
20. FAVORITE HOBBY? I get to have hobbies? But I have kids....
21. WHAT DO YOU LOOK FOR IN A FRIEND? A nice ass. That goes for you too, ladies.
22. NAME SOMETHING YOU'VE DONE THAT YOU NEVER THOUGHT YOU'D DO. Work for the man... and like it. :)
23. FAVORITE FUN THINGS TO DO? Sleep, nap, and relax. In that order. They are in such short supply these days....
24. ANY PET PEEVES? Doomsday Preppers. The actual folks, not the show. That's just silly. If there really is a zombie apocalypse, a world wide power outage, or a nuclear disaster do you really think a hole in the ground and 80 cases of Tofu Jambalaya and canned green beans are going to save you? Really?
25. WHAT'S THE LAST THING THAT MADE YOU LAUGH? My Hubbs at lunch. He said some funny things about spicy, moist chicken balls....
Now... TAG! You're it ladies and gentleman! Get on it.... or not. Just know that I luv ya!
Big A little a
Bad Word Mama!
Baking in a Tornado
Cloudy, With A Chance Of Wine
I Like Beer And Babies
Laugh Lines
Let Me Start By Saying
Life On The SONny Side
Menopausal Mother
Modern Mama Dramas
Mom In Two Cultures
Momaical
My Half Assed Life
My Home Is With You
One Classy Motha
Something Clever 2.0
Sorry kid, your mom doesn't play well with others
The Mom Of The Year
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
Who Woulda Thought?
Bad Word Mama!
Baking in a Tornado
Cloudy, With A Chance Of Wine
I Like Beer And Babies
Laugh Lines
Let Me Start By Saying
Life On The SONny Side
Menopausal Mother
Modern Mama Dramas
Mom In Two Cultures
Momaical
My Half Assed Life
My Home Is With You
One Classy Motha
Something Clever 2.0
Sorry kid, your mom doesn't play well with others
The Mom Of The Year
The Sadder But Wiser Girl
Who Woulda Thought?
Wordless Wednesday: The weekly wiggle.
Weekend:
Yard work, yard work. YARD WORK.... Advil.
Week Days:
Cook, clean, repeat.....
Clean again...
Grab some forced snuggle time.... relax... for 10 minutes or so.
Then git yer ass back outside for some more yard work.
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
"Indecent Proposals" or "The Homebody Explanation"
In the living room one Saturday:
*Hubbs and I walk in and find dear Sprinks red-faced and elbow deep in her diaper*
Hubbs: "Well... as long as she isn't mining for Mud Nuggets..." *looks thoughtful* "Can you pan for those?"
At dinner last night:
Sass: *to "Row, row, row your boat"*
"Bats, bats, bats, bats
Spooky Halloween!
Bats dey fly. Spooky, Spooky!
Bats, bats, bats... AIRPLANE!"
*Hubbs and I collapse in uncontrollable fits vowing to end every sentence with "AIRPLANE!"*
Sass: *looks irritated* "Don laugh! Airplane bats! I said AIRPLANE BATS!"
Explaining his extended absence:
Hubbs: "It was a P.L.O.P. You know, a Post-Lunch Office Poop."
Family trip to Target:
Sass: *looks up at the sign advertising a new line of undies in the lingerie department*
"Hey! Dere's boobth on der!" *Hops off the cart and bee-lines for a neon yellow demi cup with sparkles*
"Dis is for boobth, Dad!" *big smile*
Me: "Oh he is SO your son...."
During a Sprinkles fit over being told she could NOT do something at the table:
*Sprinkles begins grabbing handfuls of her cereal and throwing it to the floor in a fit of pure toddler rage*
Hubbs: *calmly turns and looks at me* "I have seen you metaphorically throw your cheerios..."
A couple of nights ago:
Sass: "Mom! Mom!" *runs toward me with a disturbed look on his face and something clutched tightly between his index finger and thumb*
"Look Mom!" *shoves a crusty, bloody booger into my hand*
"I've got raisins in my nose!" *he bolts*
Me: *speechless and nauseous at the same time while Hubbs laughs so hard he's silent (that's REALLY hard)*
*Hubbs and I walk in and find dear Sprinks red-faced and elbow deep in her diaper*
Hubbs: "Well... as long as she isn't mining for Mud Nuggets..." *looks thoughtful* "Can you pan for those?"
At dinner last night:
Sass: *to "Row, row, row your boat"*
"Bats, bats, bats, bats
Spooky Halloween!
Bats dey fly. Spooky, Spooky!
Bats, bats, bats... AIRPLANE!"
*Hubbs and I collapse in uncontrollable fits vowing to end every sentence with "AIRPLANE!"*
Sass: *looks irritated* "Don laugh! Airplane bats! I said AIRPLANE BATS!"
Explaining his extended absence:
Hubbs: "It was a P.L.O.P. You know, a Post-Lunch Office Poop."
Family trip to Target:
Sass: *looks up at the sign advertising a new line of undies in the lingerie department*
"Hey! Dere's boobth on der!" *Hops off the cart and bee-lines for a neon yellow demi cup with sparkles*
"Dis is for boobth, Dad!" *big smile*
Me: "Oh he is SO your son...."
During a Sprinkles fit over being told she could NOT do something at the table:
*Sprinkles begins grabbing handfuls of her cereal and throwing it to the floor in a fit of pure toddler rage*
Hubbs: *calmly turns and looks at me* "I have seen you metaphorically throw your cheerios..."
A couple of nights ago:
Sass: "Mom! Mom!" *runs toward me with a disturbed look on his face and something clutched tightly between his index finger and thumb*
"Look Mom!" *shoves a crusty, bloody booger into my hand*
"I've got raisins in my nose!" *he bolts*
Me: *speechless and nauseous at the same time while Hubbs laughs so hard he's silent (that's REALLY hard)*
Monday, February 25, 2013
100... like "300", but without the leather underwear...
So... blogger informed to today that this would be my 100th post. Really? I thought. 100 posts? I had to stop for a moment. This means that since Saturday, September 1st of 2012 (except for that one post in November of 2011 that is positively abysmal) , I have taken the time to sit calmly, compose my thoughts, and then put them to "paper"... a purely selfish act. I have taken time for myself. What a novel idea.... heh.
My blog has become a place to share my thoughts (in a somewhat organized fashion), record my children's funny little bits (before they are lost in the exhausted jumble that passes for my brain these days), and meet some wonderful folks. I have to admit that this last one was the most surprising, not because I thought you were all creepy weirdos, but because so many of you are so effing awesome. I have found myself wishing on many occasions that we all lived a bit closer and that I could meet you, your adorable children, and your hilarious significant others face-to-face over a glass of something alcoholic. I want to throw a Bloggy Boil where we all stand around a picnic table, eating shrimp and corn on the cob, while the littles abuse my Lab in the back yard on a soft summer night.
My blog has become a place to share my thoughts (in a somewhat organized fashion), record my children's funny little bits (before they are lost in the exhausted jumble that passes for my brain these days), and meet some wonderful folks. I have to admit that this last one was the most surprising, not because I thought you were all creepy weirdos, but because so many of you are so effing awesome. I have found myself wishing on many occasions that we all lived a bit closer and that I could meet you, your adorable children, and your hilarious significant others face-to-face over a glass of something alcoholic. I want to throw a Bloggy Boil where we all stand around a picnic table, eating shrimp and corn on the cob, while the littles abuse my Lab in the back yard on a soft summer night.
Low Country Boil
This dumped on a table covered with newspaper... just heaven.
But this is not to be. And twitter, while nice, is a poor substitute. But I will take what I can get.... ;)
So thank you all. You have validated my insanity, puffed up my ego to extra-enormous proportions, and dispensed invaluable advice. You have shared your innards/inner workings with the world and we are all better for it. Here's to you, blogging friends! And here's to the next 100.... may they be better constructed and more useful. ;)
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Inspiring?
I know, right? Me? Inspiring? Well maybe for doubling up on your birth control, but I dunno about anything else.... Still... Jen from Life On The SONny Side, in all her wisdom and glory, gifted me with this some weeks back and I must say, I was (and am still) very flattered. Jen is a devoted wife and mother who knows how to get down with her bad self when the gettin' is good but also isn't afraid of life and all its bumps and bruises. Her blog is her kitchen table... why doncha come and sit a spell? We'll have a laugh, share some wisdom (or, in my case, lack thereof), and maybe a few tears. She is true and deep and hot... wait.... did I just hit on her... AGAIN? Giiiirrrll, it's uncontrollable, I tell ya. *Ahem* Anyway... thank you Jen! You have made my heart swell with your openness and my head swell with your compliments. Thank You!
And now... as the rules of this Blogger Award state...
Things you can't unlearn about me
... errrrm...no.
Sh*t that will scar the backs of your eyelids every night for weeks
... Nah. Too long.
I know!
My Full Monty
(but with words, not with penises)
(btw, if you haven't seen this movie, you should. It's really good.)
(and NOT because of any pink parts)
1. I am a nerd. Raised on Tolkien, I read the LOTR appendices for fun when I was 10. I also owned (emphasis on the "ed") a "Magic the Gathering" deck and had my own cloak (Don't hate. My Mommy made it for me one Halloween.) College (a.k.a. beer and the arrival of my bubbs) normed me out a bit... but not much.
2. I would do shameless, possibly marriage vow breaking things to see Mumford & Sons in concert.
"Raise my hands
Paint my spirit gold
And bow my head
Keep my heart slow"
I mean... really.... *sigh*
3. I despise cooked carrots. They are an abomination.
4. I prefer pencils to pens.
5. I licked a Castle once. A real one. In England. I can't tell you which one though, as it's a bit on the shy side and doesn't want everyone to know yet.
6. I played the flute for marching band in high school. And no... I never did THAT. No one ever does THAT. *eye roll*
7. My favorite bird is the Carolina Wren. The smallest, fattest, most pissed off looking ball of adorbs EVER!
"B*tch! Don't make me come down there!"
And now... to pass this on! Here are a few of the blogs I'm lovin' and learning from these days. If you don't know 'em then get on it!
Ladies, thank you for you have most definitely inspired me!
UPDATE:
And now....
UPDATE:
And now....
From Menopausal Mother!
I am doomed to a weekend of head puffery.... Thank you so much!
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Sophia's da 1st's step-brother has privacy issues.
We paused the TV during a commercial for a "Sophia the 1st" movie on Disney Jr. last night after Sass had finished watching his nightly DVR'ed Octonauts, aaaaaand this is what we got.
Yeah.... Um..... yeah.......
Happy Wordless Effing Wednesday.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Painting a sandwich....
It was nice yesterday. The sky was blue, the weeds were growing green in my garden, and I swear I felt the first gentle nudgings of Spring. And, of course, all the stores are throwing it in your face with the pastel Easter decorations, over-priced patio furniture, and... *gulp* bathing suits.
Bikinis, bikinis everywhere and not a scrap of fabric more. Ones with sparkles (yay!), ones with tassels (ummm...), ones with zippers (just... stop), and ones so tiny that if your tah-tahs can actually be contained by them, then you aren't really old enough to be wearing one. I used to rock one, before the Breakers made their appearance. Back when my figure was more Ruben-esque - the painting, not Ruben-esque - the sandwich, I would tie on some triangles and head sand-side to bake to a crispy golden brown. I have never been thin by natural means but I wanted to stop obsessing about my so-called "imperfections" and be comfortable in my own skin. In my mid-ish 20s I found myself myself a Charleston, SC dweller and to my absolute horror this involved a heavy amount of beach time. What was I to do? Everyone went to the beach since it was 100% humidity and about 500 degrees Kelvin for 3/4 of the year... ummm... okay... well... I opted for shock therapy. Just put on the d*mn bikini and strut... shock the hell out of the populous. The first few times were sooooo scary. My inner monologue went something like this:
"Yeek. I am so fat."
"Gawd... I am so pale the sun is going to reflect off of my pasty, cave-fish-white belly and... girl, you are gonna BLIND people!"
"I can feel my thighs jiggle when I walk.... and now everyone else knows."
"Suck in! SUCK IN!"
And on, and on.... But I kept on... with constant encouragement from Hubbs (then boyfriend), of course.
You know what I learned, folks? No one cared. They were all too busy freaking out about their own bodies. I would look around at other beach goers and, yeah... there were some college hard bodies but everyone else looked like me. Pale... more round than not... and nervous. Men who kept their tee-shirts on to hide their bellies, women in strategically positioned sarongs that only came off before their mad dash to the water line... wait... I/WE were the norm?
Shut the front door!
Huh....
Sweet.
Hand me a beer and lets rock this beach!
Forcing myself walk around mostly naked was one of the most freeing things I have ever done. I felt cute... and I was. Shucking off the bad-body-image-mantle of Cosmo, MTV, and the previous generations's obsession with yo-yo dieting was thrilling. I hoped that by seeing me in my not-much Old Navy that some other girl or guy would feel okay to jiggle their wiggle for all to see. And I was angry. Angry that I had let TV and the ThiNazis cow me into believing that I wasn't just damn fine. Never again fools. Never. Again.
Buuuuttt....
I will admit that I had a hard time adjusting to the change in my body after the birth of my first. He was huge and I am a mere 5 feet tall. There is sh*t on me that is just ruint, ya'll. Then we had our second and, I don't know if it's because I am just so tired I don't have the extra energy to care, or if I finally have come to grips with it all but... d*mnitall....I feel pretty. Pretty in a way I didn't have before my wigglers. Pretty not just on the outside, but a pretty that starts within and works its way out... a pretty pride. Look at my babies. See how they reach for me and burrow into my tummy because "It's warm and snuggly!"? Look at my Husband. See how he looks at me as a wife and now mother of his children? (Tee-hee... giggle.) These are mine and I am theirs and if my butt has a couple of puckers in it that weren't there before and my belly looks like WWIII happened on top of it then so be it. It's not the cute dress I'm wearing (but it is REALLY cute) or its size that makes me pretty, it is the love of my family.
SO watch out bathing suit season! Here I come in all my puckered, jiggly, glowing glory! (Though, I will be wearing a one piece. The girls don't appreciate extreme floppage after breastfeeding two ravenous cubs and require a bit more scaffolding these days. They would just eat a bikini top...)
Bikinis, bikinis everywhere and not a scrap of fabric more. Ones with sparkles (yay!), ones with tassels (ummm...), ones with zippers (just... stop), and ones so tiny that if your tah-tahs can actually be contained by them, then you aren't really old enough to be wearing one. I used to rock one, before the Breakers made their appearance. Back when my figure was more Ruben-esque - the painting, not Ruben-esque - the sandwich, I would tie on some triangles and head sand-side to bake to a crispy golden brown. I have never been thin by natural means but I wanted to stop obsessing about my so-called "imperfections" and be comfortable in my own skin. In my mid-ish 20s I found myself myself a Charleston, SC dweller and to my absolute horror this involved a heavy amount of beach time. What was I to do? Everyone went to the beach since it was 100% humidity and about 500 degrees Kelvin for 3/4 of the year... ummm... okay... well... I opted for shock therapy. Just put on the d*mn bikini and strut... shock the hell out of the populous. The first few times were sooooo scary. My inner monologue went something like this:
"Yeek. I am so fat."
"Gawd... I am so pale the sun is going to reflect off of my pasty, cave-fish-white belly and... girl, you are gonna BLIND people!"
"I can feel my thighs jiggle when I walk.... and now everyone else knows."
"Suck in! SUCK IN!"
And on, and on.... But I kept on... with constant encouragement from Hubbs (then boyfriend), of course.
You know what I learned, folks? No one cared. They were all too busy freaking out about their own bodies. I would look around at other beach goers and, yeah... there were some college hard bodies but everyone else looked like me. Pale... more round than not... and nervous. Men who kept their tee-shirts on to hide their bellies, women in strategically positioned sarongs that only came off before their mad dash to the water line... wait... I/WE were the norm?
Shut the front door!
Huh....
Sweet.
Hand me a beer and lets rock this beach!
Forcing myself walk around mostly naked was one of the most freeing things I have ever done. I felt cute... and I was. Shucking off the bad-body-image-mantle of Cosmo, MTV, and the previous generations's obsession with yo-yo dieting was thrilling. I hoped that by seeing me in my not-much Old Navy that some other girl or guy would feel okay to jiggle their wiggle for all to see. And I was angry. Angry that I had let TV and the ThiNazis cow me into believing that I wasn't just damn fine. Never again fools. Never. Again.
Buuuuttt....
I will admit that I had a hard time adjusting to the change in my body after the birth of my first. He was huge and I am a mere 5 feet tall. There is sh*t on me that is just ruint, ya'll. Then we had our second and, I don't know if it's because I am just so tired I don't have the extra energy to care, or if I finally have come to grips with it all but... d*mnitall....I feel pretty. Pretty in a way I didn't have before my wigglers. Pretty not just on the outside, but a pretty that starts within and works its way out... a pretty pride. Look at my babies. See how they reach for me and burrow into my tummy because "It's warm and snuggly!"? Look at my Husband. See how he looks at me as a wife and now mother of his children? (Tee-hee... giggle.) These are mine and I am theirs and if my butt has a couple of puckers in it that weren't there before and my belly looks like WWIII happened on top of it then so be it. It's not the cute dress I'm wearing (but it is REALLY cute) or its size that makes me pretty, it is the love of my family.
SO watch out bathing suit season! Here I come in all my puckered, jiggly, glowing glory! (Though, I will be wearing a one piece. The girls don't appreciate extreme floppage after breastfeeding two ravenous cubs and require a bit more scaffolding these days. They would just eat a bikini top...)
Then
vs.
Now
Either way I'm good. :)
Monday, February 18, 2013
Day Off...
Sweethairyjeezusyes! A day off when the schools are open! Not that I don't love spending quality time with the wigglers, but lets face it... there are weekends when, by Sunday, "quality time" has de-evolved into "desperate survival" and Monday can't come soon enough... *ahem*
Either way, a bit of time where Hubbs and I can lay on the couch watching TV that doesn't involve upbeat songs about friendship, sharing, or the number 8 is most welcome... So, until tomorrow my bloggy buddies... Now, to get some lunch from an establishment completely ignorant of compressed, reformed and deep fried chicken bits and the french fry....
*happy sigh*
Friday, February 15, 2013
Fly on da wall...
So welcome to my insanity... or bits and piece of it, anyway, courtesy of Karen @Baking In A Tornado! It's my first time so be gentle... This is what it's all about:
"Fly on the Wall is a monthly post by a group of bloggers challenged to let our readers see what it might be like to be a fly on the wall in our homes. Each post is not a single story, but a compilation of snippets, each one its own quote or event or conversation (or disaster) strung together to provide a behind-the-scenes glimpse into our lives."
Should I apologize ahead of time? Nah.....
Sitting on the couch watching TV one night....
Me: "I feel like I bloat around the face when I'm about to start."
Hubbs: " You don't "bloat around the face"..."
Me: "I feel like I'm all bloated. Like right here." *I begin to yank on my pre-waddle.*
Hubbs: "That isn't bloating... That's just disturbing."
At the dinner table....
Sass Monkey: "I'm having fith nuggets for dinner. Some are round, some are square, and some are oct-o-gon." They are all, in fact, square.
While digging for cold meds....
Me: "Ug. I want to die. I feel like I am dying."
Hubbs: "You can't die and just leave me here with these two..." *looks desperate*
During "Snuggle Time" in Sass's bed before sleepytime....
Sass Monkey: "I have blonde hair and blue eyes, Mommy."
Me: "You do! And what color are my eyes?"
Sass Monkey: "Blue."
Me: "That's right! And what color is my hair?"
Sass Monkey: "White. Cause you're old..."
Could be anytime, really. She STILL refuses to say "Mommy".
Me: "Can you say "brother"?"
Sprinkles: "bwuvah".
Me: "Good girl! Can you say "da-da"?"
Sprinkles: "Da-da!"
Me: "Yay! Can you say "Ma-ma"?"
Sprinkles: *silence*
Hubbs: "Can you say "Ma-ma"?"
Sprinkles: *big toothy smile* "Da-da!" *Turns to look out the window into the back yard at our 2 dogs laying in the sun.* "Doggie!"
Me: *sigh*
Picking up a plastic play phone...
Me: "Oh hey... it's for you." *I toss the phone to Hubbs*
Hubbs: "Ring Ring! Hello? Sanity? *pause* "Huh, it hung up."
Want more good time funny? Head yonder...
www.BakingInATornado.com
http://www.bigaandlittlea.com/
http://hypnoticbard.blogspot.
http://www.justalittlenutty.
http://sadderbutwiser.
http://followmehome.
http://stacysewsandschools.
http://menopausalmother.
http://mybrainonkids.net/
http://www.findingfelicity.com/
www.therowdybaker.com
http://smn0409.blogspot.com/
www.theblacksheepmom.blogspot.
http://raising-reagan.com/
http://mooreorganizedmayhem.
... see! We are all perfectly normal, right? RIGHT?!?!?!
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Sweet Nothings For Your Eyes...
To my readers, every one,
I love you all! We do have fun!
"Like" me on the Book today
Or Tweet to me without delay!
To friends all over the interwebs
Who read my blog on toilets and beds
Today's the day to show I care!
From me to you! Now... to over-share....
That is just inappropriate aviary relations.
Look at his eyes... they soooo do not say "Yes".
This is the face Sass makes right before he Dutch Oven's me....
"I've got a seeeecret..."
"Oh Edith! Your 8 layers of petticoats and whale bone corset
have really got my horse and buggy trotting!"
Nuthin' says LUVIN' like a bunch of naked babies...
Oh wait....
Ummmm..... wishful thinking?
Sweet missive... or veiled threat?
"I would tell you we will be together forever, Henry, but two of my ribs just cracked and one of my lungs is collapsing. Oh, and I'll probably die in childbirth. Now where is my Laudanum?"
"Hey baby! Tisket-a-tasket. Can I put my letter in your basket?"
Happy Valentine's Day, Ya'll!
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
The Sprinkles Spectacular in 20...
I've waxed eloquent on the most estimable virtues of Hubbs, I've explored the non-complexities of my beloved Sass, and now it is Sprinkles' turn.
1. She has the most perfect summer-sky-blue eyes. They are even more startling when they are red rimmed from tantruming.
2. She refuses to eat anything green and instead goes for the tubers and encased meats. Girl after my own heart...
3. She snuggles. Oh Gawd, how she snuggles. Sass always had a more "drive-by-wiggle" approach to parental contact, but Sprinks will snuggle in and SIT STILL. Novel concept.
4. She was one fat baby. Ankle rolls, double wrist rolls, chest rolls, TRIPLE KNEE ROLLS! She was the Michelin Man's chubby little cousin. Delicious.
5. She will probably be able to play basketball. 80th % in height all the way through. I have no idea how this happened. Hubbs is 5'7 (so he says on a good day) and I am an even 5'. She is 16 months and wearing 2Ts.
6. She has the most annoying shriek on the planet and she has started to experiment with "The Warble". It takes a smart toddler to figure out the exact pitch and frequency to make ones neck hair stand on end like she can. What can I say... the girl likes her attention prompt.
7. *deep breath* Okay... I'm just going to say it. As a baby, my daughter was terrified of anyone with skin darker than a saltine. Hell... she was even afraid of our BBD (big, black dog) and we have no idea why. It was particularly bad for us when we went grocery shopping. You see, there was this wonderful "Cookie Lady" who worked in the bakery (she was the Jamaican Aunty I always wanted and I think she was Sass's first true love) and any time that sweet woman came near Sprinks, she would scream like she'd seen a giant, demonic green bean. And it wasn't just the Cookie Lady... anyone who tried to touch her who wasn't blind-cave-fish-transparent got screamed at. (The thing is, she had daycare providers of all nationalities, races, creeds, ect. She interacted with these beloved folks daily and she still freaked the eff out allthedamntime in public.) I am happy to report that she is now over most of it.... most. *facepalm* It was always so great to be the family of blonde-haired, blue-eyed Whitey McWhitersons wandering around in public places with a baby that screamed at black people....
8. She was a quiet, sweet infant... except for the colic and me never being able to put her down... for like, 6 months.
9.She beat some pretty ugly odds. My baby girl formed perfectly in the womb, you see, but unfortunately on the way out, she got stuck during a very dangerous part of delivery to get stuck in. It was the very last part where the umbilical cord is compressed.... so.... they had to reach in and bend her clavicle around my pelvis which severely damaged the nerves in her right shoulder. It's called shoulder dystocia and it is a long post for another time... Anyway, her arm didn't work at all. It just laid there with her little hand wiggling on the end. It was the most disconcerting stillness.... This was not something she was ever supposed to fully recover from. It was all talk of what "percentage of movement" she would get back... But now it's her favorite arm to whack her brother with, and a good arm and hand to eat with, and a great arm to lift high above her head and twirl around like a ballerina with. So take THAT odds! Sprinks OWNED you!
10. She would rather sign or make animal noises than talk. She won't say "cat" but she will sure as hell "meow" when she sees one. She likes to let us know who the boss really IS, and be damned if she's our little performing monkey....
11. Pink and sparkles and that girl is happy. She KNOWS she looks good...
12. If it ain't chocolate, it ain't gonna happen. Good girl.
13. Brother is the funniest person in the world and she loves him fiercely. Let me emphasize the "fiercely" part.
14. She says "awwwww" when she hugs you. Like we are all her teddy bears. :) Well, I am rather squishy....
15. It's dance parties everyday, all day. If there is music playing or someone is singing then she is wiggling, twirling, bouncing, and twisting.
16. She loves to get dirty. Handfuls of garden soil, earthworms, and puddles... she is a pretty-in-pink kinda tom-boy.
17. She learned to go up and down our 12-step staircase (our house would need that kind of program) at 15 months. There was NO WAY brother was leaving her behind.
18. If you are laying on the floor, you are fair game. Deal with it.
19. That temper! Whoa! When she gets all wound up, I am always surprised when fire doesn't start shooting from her mouth and eyes. She's going to be fun when she hits puberty.
20. She loves completely and she loves with an intensity and fervor that is beyond her years. She lets us know everyday that we are hers.... without speaking, of course. Speaking would just make it too convenient for Mommy. ;)
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So there they are... my 3 life loves. The people that I have met (or created, with help of course) who have changed my life for the better forever. I am lucky to have them....
And don't worry, folks. I'll go back to my less-than-mushy-self di-rectly...
1. She has the most perfect summer-sky-blue eyes. They are even more startling when they are red rimmed from tantruming.
2. She refuses to eat anything green and instead goes for the tubers and encased meats. Girl after my own heart...
3. She snuggles. Oh Gawd, how she snuggles. Sass always had a more "drive-by-wiggle" approach to parental contact, but Sprinks will snuggle in and SIT STILL. Novel concept.
4. She was one fat baby. Ankle rolls, double wrist rolls, chest rolls, TRIPLE KNEE ROLLS! She was the Michelin Man's chubby little cousin. Delicious.
5. She will probably be able to play basketball. 80th % in height all the way through. I have no idea how this happened. Hubbs is 5'7 (so he says on a good day) and I am an even 5'. She is 16 months and wearing 2Ts.
6. She has the most annoying shriek on the planet and she has started to experiment with "The Warble". It takes a smart toddler to figure out the exact pitch and frequency to make ones neck hair stand on end like she can. What can I say... the girl likes her attention prompt.
7. *deep breath* Okay... I'm just going to say it. As a baby, my daughter was terrified of anyone with skin darker than a saltine. Hell... she was even afraid of our BBD (big, black dog) and we have no idea why. It was particularly bad for us when we went grocery shopping. You see, there was this wonderful "Cookie Lady" who worked in the bakery (she was the Jamaican Aunty I always wanted and I think she was Sass's first true love) and any time that sweet woman came near Sprinks, she would scream like she'd seen a giant, demonic green bean. And it wasn't just the Cookie Lady... anyone who tried to touch her who wasn't blind-cave-fish-transparent got screamed at. (The thing is, she had daycare providers of all nationalities, races, creeds, ect. She interacted with these beloved folks daily and she still freaked the eff out allthedamntime in public.) I am happy to report that she is now over most of it.... most. *facepalm* It was always so great to be the family of blonde-haired, blue-eyed Whitey McWhitersons wandering around in public places with a baby that screamed at black people....
8. She was a quiet, sweet infant... except for the colic and me never being able to put her down... for like, 6 months.
9.She beat some pretty ugly odds. My baby girl formed perfectly in the womb, you see, but unfortunately on the way out, she got stuck during a very dangerous part of delivery to get stuck in. It was the very last part where the umbilical cord is compressed.... so.... they had to reach in and bend her clavicle around my pelvis which severely damaged the nerves in her right shoulder. It's called shoulder dystocia and it is a long post for another time... Anyway, her arm didn't work at all. It just laid there with her little hand wiggling on the end. It was the most disconcerting stillness.... This was not something she was ever supposed to fully recover from. It was all talk of what "percentage of movement" she would get back... But now it's her favorite arm to whack her brother with, and a good arm and hand to eat with, and a great arm to lift high above her head and twirl around like a ballerina with. So take THAT odds! Sprinks OWNED you!
10. She would rather sign or make animal noises than talk. She won't say "cat" but she will sure as hell "meow" when she sees one. She likes to let us know who the boss really IS, and be damned if she's our little performing monkey....
11. Pink and sparkles and that girl is happy. She KNOWS she looks good...
12. If it ain't chocolate, it ain't gonna happen. Good girl.
13. Brother is the funniest person in the world and she loves him fiercely. Let me emphasize the "fiercely" part.
14. She says "awwwww" when she hugs you. Like we are all her teddy bears. :) Well, I am rather squishy....
15. It's dance parties everyday, all day. If there is music playing or someone is singing then she is wiggling, twirling, bouncing, and twisting.
16. She loves to get dirty. Handfuls of garden soil, earthworms, and puddles... she is a pretty-in-pink kinda tom-boy.
17. She learned to go up and down our 12-step staircase (our house would need that kind of program) at 15 months. There was NO WAY brother was leaving her behind.
18. If you are laying on the floor, you are fair game. Deal with it.
19. That temper! Whoa! When she gets all wound up, I am always surprised when fire doesn't start shooting from her mouth and eyes. She's going to be fun when she hits puberty.
20. She loves completely and she loves with an intensity and fervor that is beyond her years. She lets us know everyday that we are hers.... without speaking, of course. Speaking would just make it too convenient for Mommy. ;)
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That's right... just tell ME "no".... In your FACE, Mom!
So there they are... my 3 life loves. The people that I have met (or created, with help of course) who have changed my life for the better forever. I am lucky to have them....
And don't worry, folks. I'll go back to my less-than-mushy-self di-rectly...
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
20 Sass-tastic Fabulosities
Yesterday was all about the Hubbs love so today will be about Sass Monkey's awesomeness (I eeney-meenied on who would go next... Sass or Sprinks?) Here we go!
1. He has one, irresistible dimple. He used to have two but the other one couldn't handle all the cuteness and ran off.
2. He was my first everything baby. His pupation gave the word "discomfort" a new meaning and has subsequently lead to a total redefinition of such.
3. He is always up for a little chat. Morning, noon, night, 24/7, AND on Sundays... even in his sleep.
4. He says "hangburger" and "intersteak" instead of "hamburger" and "interstate". We don't know why these words have never evolved into their proper incarnations ... and we don't care. I hope they NEVER change.
5. His snuggling is powerful. I mean, deep tissue bruises when he's done. You KNOW you've been snuggled by the Sass Master.
6. He sasses constantly. "No Mom! Actually.... I don't want dat. I SAID I wan dis!" "Mom you are siiiiilly." "Don say Dat!" My bad, yo. ;)
7. When he was a baby he would eat anything. Ground up meatloaf and brussel sprouts were his first big boy meal... and he was 5 months old. He loved solid food.
8. Well, he will eat anything... except whipped cream or icing. When he was just over a year old we went to our favorite Mexican restaurant for lunch one day. Thy had the most wonderful Sopapillas... Long story short, I gave him some whipped cream to try which he promptly vomited into my hands. He was standing in the booth and retching loudly so that everyone eating could get a good look. It was a texture thing. We didn't go back.
9. He has NO FEAR. He will climb and jump off of anything. Last summer, he was launching himself off the adult diving board at the pool with absolutely no regard for life or limb in nothing but Wal-mart water wings... and we had to argue with him to even keep those on. He was barely 3.
10. He tells his teachers and friends at school things like "I shoot dem and den da blood commed out." Out of context we must sound like ax murderers, but it was hunting season and we had been up at the cabin processing this year's kills. He was just giving them a blow-by-blow...
11. He is a tiny little furnace that pours sweat as he sleeps. As a newborn, he would sweat through his little rabbit shirts and leave wiggly little stains on the crib sheet. Freaked Hubbs and I out. I still have to change his sheets more often than normal because all that boy sweat can get a little pungent. It's like a stinky Slip-n-Slide in there...
12. Spiderman EVERYTHING! You gotta appreciate a kid with a full blown addiction.
13. He looks just like me... and I am going to make one good looking man. :)
14. He tries to argue logic when he doesn't have any.
15. He adores his little sister. They roll around pinning and sitting on each other while screeching with delight.
16. His favorite food is broccoli. I have no idea how this happened.
17. He loves everybody. He will have conversations with complete strangers and then fist bump them on the way out. Hugs all round, folks!
18. He has learned to poot-attack. In fact, most of his funny repertoire involves gas right now. I would blame Hubbs for this, but I know better.....
19. He has set the crazy bar pretty high for Sprinkles (or any others that may come after). Hubbs and I find ourselves using the phrases "Well, why did you do that?" and "Why did that seem like a good idea?" quite a bit. He is VERY creative.
20. Hugging that twitching ball of energy is like hugging happiness itself... it feels gooooood.
He was the excitement and non-stop action we never knew we didn't have. Life with Sass will never be dull... or quiet! ;) My baby boy, my first born, and my party non-planner!
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20 Sass-tastic Fabulosities
(never enough though, sometimes, it is...)
2. He was my first everything baby. His pupation gave the word "discomfort" a new meaning and has subsequently lead to a total redefinition of such.
3. He is always up for a little chat. Morning, noon, night, 24/7, AND on Sundays... even in his sleep.
4. He says "hangburger" and "intersteak" instead of "hamburger" and "interstate". We don't know why these words have never evolved into their proper incarnations ... and we don't care. I hope they NEVER change.
5. His snuggling is powerful. I mean, deep tissue bruises when he's done. You KNOW you've been snuggled by the Sass Master.
6. He sasses constantly. "No Mom! Actually.... I don't want dat. I SAID I wan dis!" "Mom you are siiiiilly." "Don say Dat!" My bad, yo. ;)
7. When he was a baby he would eat anything. Ground up meatloaf and brussel sprouts were his first big boy meal... and he was 5 months old. He loved solid food.
8. Well, he will eat anything... except whipped cream or icing. When he was just over a year old we went to our favorite Mexican restaurant for lunch one day. Thy had the most wonderful Sopapillas... Long story short, I gave him some whipped cream to try which he promptly vomited into my hands. He was standing in the booth and retching loudly so that everyone eating could get a good look. It was a texture thing. We didn't go back.
9. He has NO FEAR. He will climb and jump off of anything. Last summer, he was launching himself off the adult diving board at the pool with absolutely no regard for life or limb in nothing but Wal-mart water wings... and we had to argue with him to even keep those on. He was barely 3.
10. He tells his teachers and friends at school things like "I shoot dem and den da blood commed out." Out of context we must sound like ax murderers, but it was hunting season and we had been up at the cabin processing this year's kills. He was just giving them a blow-by-blow...
11. He is a tiny little furnace that pours sweat as he sleeps. As a newborn, he would sweat through his little rabbit shirts and leave wiggly little stains on the crib sheet. Freaked Hubbs and I out. I still have to change his sheets more often than normal because all that boy sweat can get a little pungent. It's like a stinky Slip-n-Slide in there...
12. Spiderman EVERYTHING! You gotta appreciate a kid with a full blown addiction.
13. He looks just like me... and I am going to make one good looking man. :)
14. He tries to argue logic when he doesn't have any.
15. He adores his little sister. They roll around pinning and sitting on each other while screeching with delight.
16. His favorite food is broccoli. I have no idea how this happened.
17. He loves everybody. He will have conversations with complete strangers and then fist bump them on the way out. Hugs all round, folks!
18. He has learned to poot-attack. In fact, most of his funny repertoire involves gas right now. I would blame Hubbs for this, but I know better.....
19. He has set the crazy bar pretty high for Sprinkles (or any others that may come after). Hubbs and I find ourselves using the phrases "Well, why did you do that?" and "Why did that seem like a good idea?" quite a bit. He is VERY creative.
20. Hugging that twitching ball of energy is like hugging happiness itself... it feels gooooood.
He was the excitement and non-stop action we never knew we didn't have. Life with Sass will never be dull... or quiet! ;) My baby boy, my first born, and my party non-planner!
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Don't try to fight it... He'll shoot you with his Lasers of Cute!
Monday, February 11, 2013
20 Reasons....
With the Official American Love Day fast approaching, I decided I would dedicate this week's posts to my loves. First up is Hubbs....
Hubbs is the Bomb-Diggety
(a short and incomplete list)
1. He takes out the trash and the Diaper Genie WITHOUT being asked. He also transports aforementioned Diaper Sausage of Death to the trash cans outside. Also without being asked.
2. He says "You're sexy when you cook." even though I look a wilted, hot-mess while leaning over a stove full of steaming pots.
3. He cried manly-style while reciting his vows. He actually wrote our vows and most of the wedding service. The preacher who married us asked to keep a copy to use for other couples in the future. It was amazingly good. Pablo Neruda, people. Pablo Neruda.
4. Last night, while I lay impossibly entwined with a heating pad on the couch, he said "I know you are in pain. I'll change her diaper." and took Sprinks upstairs for a hose-down. Now, he may have said it sarcastically, but I don't care. That man is brilliant.
5. He never backs down. Ever.
6. He gets angry when I'm right and then tries to change the subject. It's cute.
7. He is a Master Griller. Steaks that will make you smack yo' Momma.
8. He dresses better than I do. He also dresses ME better than I do.
9. I can still embarrass him in public.
10. He lived with my crotchety, smelly, piss machine (a.k.a. my cat) for 12 years. And he's allergic. That cat hated everyone but me. She was awesome.
11. Good genetics. Gawd we make some pretty babies.
12. He's crazy smart... and smartass.
13. He's healthy and loves to work out. It gives me something to aspire to... or at least something to watch. ;)
14. He just grins and bears it while I loose my sh*t for a couple of months after giving birth. Tough cookie.
15. He has "The Daddy Finger". Apparently, his pinky is the perfect size, shape, and consistency for sucking to sooth a colicky baby. Sass preferred "The Daddy Finger" to his paci for quite some time. They would sit for hours together, Hubbs snuggled up in the chair, with Sass contentedly sucking away... and quiet.
16. I can't gross him out. He has cleaned up my vomit, inspected infected owies, and been present at both births. He's seen everything. The second time 'round in the delivery room he actually asked me if I had pooped Dark Matter in front of all the doctors and nurses between pushes. Dat's a keeper, right der.
17. He doesn't complain when I watch Finding Bigfoot. :O
18. He works HARD. He knew what he wanted and he fought for it and now he is Hubbs, Esquire. (Did you know attorneys can't call themselves Esquire? You can only call others Esquire. Law is weird.)
19. He personally designed my engagement ring and chose the stones at a local jewelers'. He had them reinforce the prongs because, and I quote, "Well, you are probably going to bang it on stuff.". Or you're clumsy. :) He was right....
20. Sometimes I will catch him just quietly watching me... and it still makes me blush. :)
There are many other reasons, of course, that Hubbs is da Bomb-Diggety but it would be completely inappropriate to list some of them here as my family does occasionally stumble up to take a gander. ;)
Over and out. Tee-hee. (I said "over"...)
Friday, February 8, 2013
Give him what he wants....
* It is a nightly requirement/staple/charming family tradition that Sass gets to watch a show of his choice (e.g. Octonauts or Little Einsteins) before book and bed.*
Earlier this week, I told Sass that, if he watched too much TV, it would make his brain feel bad.
(Yes, yes... I lied. But the boy had been laying on the couch, cracking out on Disney Jr., for the last 4 days while down with the flu. He felt better now and his little butt needed to get some play on!)
So a few days later, I got this...
Me: "Okay honey, let's turn off the TV. It's time to go read a book."
Sass's eyes went wide as blue willow plates as they begin to fill with crocodile tears. "No book, Mommy. I want Wittle Einstiens!" he waggles his finger at me, capturing my hand position and expression perfectly, "I want Wittle Einsteins, but no book!"
Me: "Nope. It's time for bed. Let's go."
Sass: "No, no NOOOOO! I want my brain bad, Mommy! I want my brain bad!" The tears begin to resemble Niagara Falls.
Me: *blink* "What? You want what?"
Sass: "I want one more Wittle Einsteins, Mommy! I want my brain bad!"
Heh... okay buddy.
Earlier this week, I told Sass that, if he watched too much TV, it would make his brain feel bad.
(Yes, yes... I lied. But the boy had been laying on the couch, cracking out on Disney Jr., for the last 4 days while down with the flu. He felt better now and his little butt needed to get some play on!)
So a few days later, I got this...
Me: "Okay honey, let's turn off the TV. It's time to go read a book."
Sass's eyes went wide as blue willow plates as they begin to fill with crocodile tears. "No book, Mommy. I want Wittle Einstiens!" he waggles his finger at me, capturing my hand position and expression perfectly, "I want Wittle Einsteins, but no book!"
Me: "Nope. It's time for bed. Let's go."
Sass: "No, no NOOOOO! I want my brain bad, Mommy! I want my brain bad!" The tears begin to resemble Niagara Falls.
Me: *blink* "What? You want what?"
Sass: "I want one more Wittle Einsteins, Mommy! I want my brain bad!"
Heh... okay buddy.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Bitten by the Love Bug... and a few other things.
Ah yes... February! The most misspelled month of the year! The month of LUUUUV! (Yeah, because we all love sleet, freezing mud, and drippy noses. Nothing says love like a kiss that leaves a slime trail. I dub thee "Snail Kiss".) Time to buy crappy valentines for my kids to hand out in class and shave my legs (because that is my Valentine's gift to my husband. It also works for Christmas.) Let's all let Hallmark dictate our affections and prepare ourselves for the delicate nibble of the Love Bug.
Wait. Ew. Bug bites usually aren't sexy. Have you ever seen chigger bites? Not pretty. And they are especially not pretty when the bite you in your *AHEM* love bits. (Note: Never sit on a fallen log in the woods in the summer.) And who gets all hot and bothered over a mosquito bite? Well, not THAT kind of hot and bothered, anyway. They sell creams for that.
As I contemplated this "Love Bug" concept during a few quite moments on my car ride to work this morning, I eventually (and quite predictably) ended up going a very different direction. "Ug. Bug bites aren't sexy. Geeze, I have had tons and none of them ever "revved my engines". You know, I have been bitten by a bunch of stuff and I can safely say that these bites did nothing for me in the britches department." This train of thought lead me to a mental list that I thought I would share with you. Because.
Wait. Ew. Bug bites usually aren't sexy. Have you ever seen chigger bites? Not pretty. And they are especially not pretty when the bite you in your *AHEM* love bits. (Note: Never sit on a fallen log in the woods in the summer.) And who gets all hot and bothered over a mosquito bite? Well, not THAT kind of hot and bothered, anyway. They sell creams for that.
As I contemplated this "Love Bug" concept during a few quite moments on my car ride to work this morning, I eventually (and quite predictably) ended up going a very different direction. "Ug. Bug bites aren't sexy. Geeze, I have had tons and none of them ever "revved my engines". You know, I have been bitten by a bunch of stuff and I can safely say that these bites did nothing for me in the britches department." This train of thought lead me to a mental list that I thought I would share with you. Because.
SHIT THAT HAS BITTEN ME
(or at least gummed me harshly)
(that I can remember)
Dog – Never seriously.
Cat - That’s how they show love,
right?
Wild Rabbit – More scratched all to hell, really. I kept trying to pick him up… J
Horse – Fingers, apples… what’s the difference?
Field Mouse – Guess what! They
don’t like to be trapped in a ball-cap and heavily petted! Who knew?
Water Snake – Through a bug net. Hey... don't judge... I used a net!
Fence Lizard – Cute but vicious…
Anole – And they sell these blood thirsty heathens at Pet Smart and advertise them as “Great pets for children!”
Toddler – no surprise there...
Husband – Definitely NOT self defense. J
Sister – Because they are evil.
Random small children – I used to work at a pre-school. 'Nough said. I have also had 8 kinds of ringworm.
Various spiders - *shudder*
Wood Beetle – On the boob in my bed! The
audacity of it!
Baby Snake of Indiscriminate Parentage – I just wanted to snuggle.
Horned Toad – They don’t ALWAYS fall “asleep” when you turn them on
their backs.
Baby Ducks – Don’t let all that sweet, yellow fluff fool you… little effers
have teeth!
Calf – Fingers and bottle nipples are very similar in consistency.
Box Turtle – I am the only person EVER who has been bitten by a box
turtle. They just don’t bite. The pediatrician didn't believe my poor
mother when she tried to explain why her daughter had a nasty looking bruise on
her stomach at my 3 yr old check up. I
expect a file was started…
Gerbil – Spawn of Satan
Killdeer – But the babies are so CUUUUTE!
Blue Bird – In MY defense, I thought she was unconscious.
Skink – Didn't see that one coming….
Crayfish – Pinched, really…
Catfish – Only noodled once.
Never. Again.
Chipmunk – Strangely enough, they don’t like being caught in ball-caps either…
I just need to stop grabbing sh*t,
huh?
So yeah, lots of bites but no surging passions or ripped bodices. That Love Bug is a dirty liar.
:)
These are actual "Love Bugs".
Yeah... NOT SEXY!
Yeah... NOT SEXY!
:)
*I was not raised in a cave or by wolves. I was raised to be curious… and to be good
buddies with the Neosporin.*
Monday, February 4, 2013
Just put a big, red "X" on our door...
As the second wave of contagion obliterated my household this weekend, I began to wonder, would we actually make it out alive? What or Who had I/We pissed off? And What or Who did I need to kill to set this right? Because that was the level of my desperation, folks. I was at Kill Level 3.
What was supposed to have been a sweet, little snow day turned into a 4-wheel drive trip to the pediatrician for a diagnosis of pink-eye with a side order of flu. Eff, eff, eff, eff, eff, eff, EFFFFFF! Wait... I don't feel so good, either. Damn it.
Sass Monkey went down so hard the couch has a permanent sweat stain in the shape of a miserable little super hero on its cushions. And to put the cherry on top of his not-so-fun sundae, his charming baby sister (who, by this time was totally put out by the fact that brother bear wouldn't play with her) performed a waddle-by-whacking, and bruised up his one working eye with a plastic play phone while he lay immobilized by disease.
Mommy and Sass ended up spending most of the weekend together on the couch while Daddy dutifully and masterfully corralled the screeching heathen beast (a.k.a Sprinkles). She had lost her mind, you see, because her personal wrestling partner wasn't capable of anything more than sitting up to sip water and whining. What a fun-suck, right? Daddy really took one for the team. When Sass would have intermittent periods of activity due to the Ibuprofen lie (You know... they feel better but aren't better?) it was as if he was trying to make up for lost time, wreaking havoc and getting out all the toys with small parts before petering out and joining me back on the "Stinky Couch". You see, he felt well enough to move but was cranky enough to make Daddy's eye twitch.
All in all, it was a great time. I love effing flu season. And now it's Daddy's turn to succumb, poor guy.
Btw, have you ever tried to put eye drops in a 3 year old's eye? Had him begging for mercy like we'd put thumbscrews on him! I have used them before (I am no stranger to the Nasty Eye.) and I know they don't hurt but the cold droppy sensation just sent him right on over the edge. We almost have to peel him off the ceiling when we go to get the drops out of the cubbard and no amount of bargaining, begging, or pleading makes it go any smoother. I will say that Daddy has better luck with him than I do, but then, Daddy also has more patience. And empathy. And is nicer. Basically, he is just a better parent.
Any tips (other than hog-tying) for getting drops into their eyes with the minimum of flailing and wailing? Really... we are desperate here. Cookies aren't working because he doesn't want to eat so their goes my back up plan....
What was supposed to have been a sweet, little snow day turned into a 4-wheel drive trip to the pediatrician for a diagnosis of pink-eye with a side order of flu. Eff, eff, eff, eff, eff, eff, EFFFFFF! Wait... I don't feel so good, either. Damn it.
Sass Monkey went down so hard the couch has a permanent sweat stain in the shape of a miserable little super hero on its cushions. And to put the cherry on top of his not-so-fun sundae, his charming baby sister (who, by this time was totally put out by the fact that brother bear wouldn't play with her) performed a waddle-by-whacking, and bruised up his one working eye with a plastic play phone while he lay immobilized by disease.
Mommy and Sass ended up spending most of the weekend together on the couch while Daddy dutifully and masterfully corralled the screeching heathen beast (a.k.a Sprinkles). She had lost her mind, you see, because her personal wrestling partner wasn't capable of anything more than sitting up to sip water and whining. What a fun-suck, right? Daddy really took one for the team. When Sass would have intermittent periods of activity due to the Ibuprofen lie (You know... they feel better but aren't better?) it was as if he was trying to make up for lost time, wreaking havoc and getting out all the toys with small parts before petering out and joining me back on the "Stinky Couch". You see, he felt well enough to move but was cranky enough to make Daddy's eye twitch.
All in all, it was a great time. I love effing flu season. And now it's Daddy's turn to succumb, poor guy.
Btw, have you ever tried to put eye drops in a 3 year old's eye? Had him begging for mercy like we'd put thumbscrews on him! I have used them before (I am no stranger to the Nasty Eye.) and I know they don't hurt but the cold droppy sensation just sent him right on over the edge. We almost have to peel him off the ceiling when we go to get the drops out of the cubbard and no amount of bargaining, begging, or pleading makes it go any smoother. I will say that Daddy has better luck with him than I do, but then, Daddy also has more patience. And empathy. And is nicer. Basically, he is just a better parent.
Any tips (other than hog-tying) for getting drops into their eyes with the minimum of flailing and wailing? Really... we are desperate here. Cookies aren't working because he doesn't want to eat so their goes my back up plan....
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