Tuesday, July 27, 2010

He gets it from me.

Hey, remember how my son is corny?

Well, I'm peppery.


I was pregnant with Blair when I bought those peppers. Jules found them in the fridge today.


Speaking of the fridge, I found this when I opened it tonight.


Hot dog bun. I guess Jules figures it'll keep if it's in there.

BTW, I left it in there because his freakish memory will cause a huge meltdown tomorrow when he gets up & sees that his bun is gone. He will lay in the floor, crying, "I want my buuuuunnnnnnnnnn!" & no other bun will ever do. And 3 months from now, he'll remind us of that bun he lost & I'll buy him another toy because I'll feel bad about a stupid 1/2 eaten bun. So I'm saving myself lots of mommy guilt.

The home changes are still happening & we're laying more flooring. It's always fun to play "what's under this carpet?!" before you rip it up.


That's what was under the carpet in the "office." I actually liked it, even though Adam compared it to some dungeons & dragons pattern.

This is the after. And by after, I mean "where I left off last night."


My main reason for laying it last night was because of our fancy elliptical machine being delivered today. Here it is, also not completed.


I was working until almost 1:30 in the morning doing that little area. I was just going to do where it would sit, not the areas all around it. Well, Adam comes back & announces "Here, let me move stuff for you." So I was tricked into doing more of it that I'd planned. At 2am, my box my empty & I decided to stop instead of opening another.

Hey, speaking of Adam, I'll have to share our condom saga soon. Don't ask, just wait.

But wait no more for what you've all been waiting for...CAMO TARP!


Baby's first camo tarp picture. Isn't it sweet? Our tarp made it onto Why Do I Live Here? recently as well.

I'm going to go watch Adam finish building my elliptical machine now. And by watching, I mean questioning every thing he does & whining about why he isn't done yet & why he's make it all so complicated. Because I'm supportive like that.

Oh, wait. I took one more picture to share. Thanks to my freakish memory (he also gets that from me) I remember my friend Tara calling all of our cats "an ass load of fucking cats." That phrase always amused me. In honor of Tara & her family moving into a new house & her birthday, I share this.

Behold, an ass load of fucking cats!


Well, they aren't fucking. They are eating.

Yes, I'm the crazy cat lady. Imagine me when I'm 80.

Monday, July 19, 2010


I like to think of myself as a good mom. I let my son wear pink Dora swim diapers if he wants. I let him play with girls & girl stuff. And I let him play kitchen. In fact, we bought him a play kitchen on sale with a $50 coupon after the holidays. Some people may cringe at their sons doing these things, along with having hippy hair, but we don't. We're cool like that.

Today, while picking up the living room, the husband announced, "we should check this kitchen more often..."


Can you see it?


See it? No? Or if yes, wanna see it closer? Of course you do.


That's a cob. From corn. In his kitchen. After you get over the gross factor of it, it's really kinda cute that he played kitchen with it.

He doesn't play with it daily. We don't check it...ever.

Really, I'm just impressed Murphy the dog didn't eat it, or any of our 35 animals for that matter. And thankful we don't have our old couch anymore, because if we did it'd be in there never to be found again.

Adam, he was grossed out that I told him, "No, don't throw it away, take pictures first!" but I do it for my peeps. You're welcome, peeps.

Friday, July 16, 2010

Mommy karma.

When you're a parent, there are some aspects of a very young child you like. For example, I liked that a few months ago I could make something "disappear" & Jules wouldn't even miss it.

Thing is, they grow out of that. And I'd been preparing myself for it, but it still sucks.

Today we went on one of our usual outings to Target. I've considered getting a job there because I spend so much time there. It's shameful really. Jules recognizes when we're around it before he can even see it & when I was in the hospital with Blair he told people "mommy & daddy are at Target." In my defense, I lived in an area without Target until 4 years ago, so it's a new & exciting thing for me.

Anyway, we do our usual popcorn & icee thing at the Target deli. It's a deli, not a concession place. They sell fucking hummus, therefore it's a deli. And yes, I feed my kid popcorn & icee. Choking hazards & artificial colors & sugars....yummmm! Once I pry his mouth off the shopping cart (what, your kid doesn't chew or suck on the cart handle from time to time?), we end up near a clearance rack. There he finds a ball. A 50% off ball, but a heavy filled up with water & oil "lava ball." Great.

I'm one of those awful people that will let my kid have something in the store to entertain him. I do usually buy things, but sometimes I just give them to him & eventually when he forgets about it I get rid of it. I guess that's where the "awful" thing comes in, I know that's a big no no to just leave things randomly to some folks out in the world. I'm very sorry. And by that, I mean not at all. I am sorry that I'm not sorry though. Feel better?

I tried.

Last time we were at Target I let him pick out a little Toy Story flash light. He picked Hamm, the pig. When you squeeze him, he said a phrase. One of two phrases. For the next 45 minutes, I listened to those two phrases over & over & over. I sat Hamm out first chance I got, I was not going to listen to him anymore even though I'd planned to buy him.

Well, 5 minutes later Jules looks at me & says, "Where's Hamm?" I tell him "I don't know!" so well I thought I should win an Oscar. He believed me...then hit me with, "I worry bount Hamm" as he looked around sad.

Worried? He is worried about Hamm?

Damn me to hell. I went back to where I sat Hamm down & "rescued" Hamm. All was good.

This time, I didn't want this stupid ball. Not at all. I didn't know how much it was, but even on clearance I was sure it was too much. Plus...really? A ball? Because we don't have about 500 of them at the house? And one filled with blue water & oil? With my dog who has almost ate through one of my wooden dining room chairs (that's a whole other story), I'm sure that would be safe for about 15 minutes. I might as well throw shit on my own carpet & ruin it myself. Then track it through the house, obvious of the mess I was creating. It would save Jules & the pets the time & trouble.

But I decided this was not worth a fight. Let him hold it, I think. Eventually he'll put it down, leave it somewhere, etc. And eventually he got out of the cart, leaving his ball, & walked around with me. Right before we go check out I deposit it on a shelf away from the check out area. He'd never miss it, right? Right!

As we unload the cart, my smart & honest child looks in the seat, then to me, & says, "wheres my ball?" I was shocked he'd remembered it. He hadn't seen or touched it in like 30 minutes, usually this was enough time for him to be distracted. Plus, he had markers he'd been carrying around, shouldn't be be occupied with those?! Oh, how I miss the days where trickery was easy.

Again, I throw out my Oscar worthy line of, "I don't know where it went!" He was kinda disappointed, but wet on with life. As I finished with the unloading process, I hear him call out, "there's my ball!"

...what?! Your ball?

I look up, he must be confused. He must be.

There, at the register we'd picked to stand in line at, laid an identical ball. And he was pointing to it. Of course.

Shocked, I stare at this overpriced piece of crap, trying to not say exactly what I was thinking. Which was "What. The. Fuck."

You know, when I lay out the crap my kids want so I don't have to buy them, I'm at least considerate enough to not leave it at children eye level to make it some other mothers problem. Whoever left that ball near the register was not the same way.

I sighed in defeat & told him to go get his ball. And he did. Then he laid his markers & his ball on the belt. As the weird guy scanned our stuff, Jules blurted out, "Thank you!" as he scanned the ball, which was so nice it kept me from almost yelling out "What the fuck?!" when the $4-something price popped up. And as I paid, he said, "BYE!" with a wave.

My kid, he's spoiled rotten.


And there is the ball the prove it. But at least he's polite, right?

And there always time to make him work it off.


We went to Home Depot in the same parking lot after that. He wanted to take the ball in. We did. He had me carry it within 3 minutes of getting in the store. He's not touched it since.

Of course.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

What's up my peeps?

I actually wanted the subject to be, "what's up, bitches?" but I thought that may be a bit harsh sounding.

Peeps is nicer than bitches. They are also more tasty.

...I have no idea.

Anyway, I feel as thought I've abandoned the attention whore world of blogger. Not that anyone with a blog is an attention whore, that's just me. I have no, I promise. I'm just surrounded in a modge podge of thoughts & ideas. Nothing all that deep usually, nothing productive at all. I've not been productive since like June 10th, & really even then all I did was show up & get cut open.

Speaking of being cut open, I high recommend it. OK, not seriously people. But if you end up having to, don't be scared to death. Recovery has been a dream. It's had it's moment, but overall it's been great. How great? So great, that at like 3 weeks postpartum I was laying down new flooring!

Yes, that's right. New flooring. I know, it sounds insane that I'd be taking any part in something like that after major surgery, but it's actually been an easy, great recovery. I was told I could do what I felt up to doing. I feel up to doing things. By things I mean picking home projects to fill Adam's summer off of work.

Fake wood is now in (almost) our entire upstairs. And after that, it will be in the only 2 rooms left with carpet, the living room & office. I always feel lame calling it an office. It's really just a room we put crap in & leave it for days since it's where our backdoor is. But one day, when I decide to do something with my life, it'll be my office. Speaking of doing something with my life & that office, I'm going to try to lost 30lbs. I think. Maybe. I guess it depends how much I weigh come 6 weeks after delivery. I really have no idea what my weight is.

Anyway, I don't have a plan really. Well, I do, but it's not great or amazing. I'm going to do it much like I do everything else in my life...as easily as humanly possible & hopefully in an entertaining way. I'm not going to become one of those hardcore assholes who talk about their inches or grilled chicken they had for dinner. Me? I'm going to talk about my American Eagle jeans.

Yeah, cue the "aren't you a little old &, uh, motherly for that brand?" questions. The answer is yes, yes I am. I'm on the highway of life, speeding towards 30 & stopping at PTA meetings on the way. But it doesn't mean I can't have a sweet looking ass while I'm on that highway of life. And seriously, I have a sweet looking ass in those jeans. As soon as I can squish back into those size 14's, which are really size 12's according to every other size chart (or maybe even fucking 10's at this point, who knows?!) I'll be content.

Yes, I'm vain. Surprised? You must be new here.

We've ordered a fancy elliptical machine. It seemed like a great idea when I was watching HSN at 3am. OK, that was when I picked one out finally but it'd been in the works & I'd been shopping around for a while, maybe before I even had Blair. Since Blair didn't die, the universe didn't throw me a bone like after I had Joel & ended up being less than my pre-Joel pregnancy weight. So I got a baby, plus 20lbs or so. Not that I'm complaining about that trade off. Not by any means.

Don't plan on seeing a weight loss journal or any of that insanity from me. I'm not that dedicated, nor do I like to share the photogenic proof of my flab & stretch marks to the world (yes, there are some things I consider private, my flab is one of those things). The only mention you'll see is if I brag or somehow hurt myself. And if I hurt myself, I'll either be complaining & blaming someone else, or telling you how stupid I am. So, it'll be enjoyable.

Adam had a birthday since my last blog.


I got him a neato ice cream cake. I'm not sure why it says "Birchday."

I also decorated.

Spiderman, very adult party theme we had going on.

Jules has been having fun with mommy's last fall ebay special priced inflatable water slide.


Yes, he's wearing a pink Dora diaper. He likes Dora. And I had a coupon for Pampers brand. It was a win-win situation. He takes his own swim diaper off, as well as other things I find helpful. The only downfall of his swim diaper coming off is that he likes to yell out "That's my penis!" while pointing to his penis. Kinda weird, but I'm happy he says penis. I'm one of those people who cringe when I hear "peepee" or "weewee" or anything else. I'd rather have my kid on the front porch yelling penis. He's fantabulous though. I can't even give you words on how awesome he is on a daily basis & with Blair. I'd have to video him 24/7 & just have a live stream going for you. But that would be weird & creepy, so just take my word about how awesome he is.

Blair is great. Adorable still, btw.


He sleeps.


This is one of the rare times he's slept without one of us holding him or cuddled next to him, so I had to capture it on film.

Today he had his one month check up. He was 21 1/2 inches & 9lbs 3ozs. I was very happy with the weight because we had doctor problems early on. The doctor would say we had nursing problems, but I had a doctor who wanted me to stop nursing & just pump because after a week he wasn't at his birth weight, he was just a few ounces under it. I did what I do best...ignored his advice. He was 7lbs 4ozs at 2 1/2 weeks & I was given "permission" to nurse him again at that point. And now, just under 2 weeks later, he's gained 2 whole pounds. Be impressed. Everyone was but the doctor, he reported to me that Blair was "starting to catch up" to the rest of the babies in the world with his 25th percentile weight. We also had a semi-awkward moment when he started talking about dreaming of being inside of a womb. Think he was hitting on me?

We still have dogs, cats, & crazy people. Nothing new or even amusing to share. Well, the neighbor seemed to be weirded out once she realized I was nurisng Blair on the porch today. Speaking of places I never thought I'd have my boob out of my shirt, I nursed at the post office today. While looking through my junk mail. Thank goodness for mail catalogs.

I must now go & eat oreos. I've only got a week or so before my machine gets here & I have to stop gorging on oreos.

...but if I eat the oreos while on the machine, does that cancel them out?

Just a thought.


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