Thursday, February 28, 2013
Gawd I hope it works. Not that you'll care... ;)
Yeek... I really need to try harder next time....
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
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....
Bad Word Mama!
Baking in a Tornado
Cloudy, With A Chance Of Wine
I Like Beer And Babies
Let Me Start By Saying
Life On The SONny Side
Modern Mama Dramas
Mom In Two Cultures
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?
Tuesday, February 26, 2013
*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
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
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.
Thursday, February 21, 2013
3. I despise cooked carrots. They are an abomination.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Yeah.... Um..... yeah.......
Happy Wordless Effing Wednesday.
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
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!
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.
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...)
Monday, February 18, 2013
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....
Friday, February 15, 2013
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"?"
Me: "Good girl! Can you say "da-da"?"
Me: "Yay! Can you say "Ma-ma"?"
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!"
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...
... see! We are all perfectly normal, right? RIGHT?!?!?!
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Happy Valentine's Day, Ya'll!
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
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. ;)
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
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!
Monday, February 11, 2013
Friday, February 8, 2013
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
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.
Yeah... NOT SEXY!
Monday, February 4, 2013
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....