Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
- The hubs and I tackled a remodel of our laundry room. And because we're both blessed with the Murphy's Law gene, nothing went according to plan. But, I do finally have cabinets and a sink to go with my brand spanking new HE washer and dryer. So, I guess all that bleeding and bitching was worth it in the end.
- Everyone is having freaking babies! Seems like everyone got down to business last fall, because babies are popping out like the plastic gophers in that 1980s arcade game. I went to a baby shower over the weekend, which was totally awesome since I was Scooter-less and surrounded by adults. Oh, and I got to see what a house without children looked like. Sigh, I can only dream...
- I've started jogging again, and I H.A.T.E. it. Ok, I really don't hate it, I just hate this part, when you are reminded of how freaking out of shape you are and every step is like torture. I picked up a jogging stroller too, because there's nothing like jogging uphill, pushing 40 pounds worth of kid, stroller, and all the kid related junk moms are required to lug around. It's also amazing how you can drive on a road nearly every day, but never quite realize just how much of a grade that hill is that you swore was pretty flat when you're flying up it at 45 miles per hour.
- Gardening, and lots of it. The hubs and I put in a vegetable garden this summer since we finally removed a bunch of trees that may or may not have been just about ready to fall on our house. Note to self, do not cultivate in flip flops. That hole you thought was probably from a little mole was actually dug by a fist size hairy tarantula that probably isn't native to this region and may have friends. In a lighter note, we're going to be doing a lot of pickling!
- We also bought a tractor. I'm actually pretty syched about this. We do a little farming at our inlaws, and got a big ol' John Deere (circa 1968) to do more plowing and harvesting. We're currently keeping it parked in the front lawn, you know, cause we have to keep up appearances since our neighbors got chickens.
So yeah, that's about it. See, I told you I was lying when I said I was busy.
Friday, May 20, 2011
Friday, May 6, 2011
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
1. Going to the bathroom has become a spectator sport. You'd think with all eyes on you while you do your business that they would potty train themselves. I mean, this is the time when they are learning the most right?
2. Your life has turned into the Twilight series, but not in the romantic taboo vampire love sense. So far I've been bit in the face, boob, side, arm, knee, and (because Scooter has a foot fetish) countless times on the toes. I've yet to turn into a nocturnal blood sucker, so it's pretty safe to say Scooter is not a vampire, though she may be a cannibal.
3. You can recite Good Night Moon, Where the Wild Things Are, and Green Eggs and Ham by heart. The hubs told me last night I was saying "I do not like green eggs and ham, I do not like them Sam-I-am" in my sleep.
4. Buying shoes is more complicated than Rupaul's makeup routine. Why can't shoes be sized by the length of the foot? 4.5" would equal 4.5 size shoe. No, I have to measure the foot, multiply by 5, divide by 7, carry the one, add Scooter's birth year... wait what? Ellen is on?
5. There's a world beyond the front door. Scooter loves being outside... I mean L.O.V.E.S. it in the way stoners love Cheetos. Which is pretty great, except for when she sits at the front door pointing saying "THAT!" eight million times while I try to work. I'm seriously considering buying her one of those real grass potty patches for dogs.
7. You find yourself singing "Lalala, lalala, Elmo's World" in the toilet seat aisle of Home Depot. You also walk through the window aisle expecting to see Mr. Noodle in one of the displays.
8. All surfaces under three feet are a barren wastelands. But don't worry, whatever clutter that was on these surfaces will now be on the floor of your family room in the form of Toys R Us toy diarrhea.
9. You have about a 1.5 hour window to run errands in a day. Between naps and feeding times, there's that precious 1.5 hour window when you can actually leave the house. However, this is only if you've mastered the ninja skills required to strap a kid into a convertible carseat and pre-pack the diaper bag. Word of advice, do not rush getting out the door. It will only result in a deuce being flung across the room during the quick diaper change that you thought was only a wet diaper.
10. You actually start getting semi-coherent answers from your toddler. This is probably one of the greatest parts of having a toddler. Granted, Scooter can only say "yes" (which is far and above better than "no") and I'm pretty sure I could ask her "Do you want mama to sacrificially kill Dora and Boots?" and I would still get a yes. But still, it's a far improvement over desperately flinging every toy and sippy cup known to man at her to stop her crying.
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
- Trash bag is full, but still remains in the can. The hubs and I continually push down on the full bag in an attempt to compact and use every available space in the bag. Inevitably we either a. rip a hole in the bag (Glad Force Flex, you are no match for me!) or b. we suffer through the God awful smell coming from the no longer closing lid. GAG!
- After a gagging fit, the bag is removed from the can, set on the kitchen floor, and tied shut. Scooter then crawls over, puts her hands all over the bag, manages to find the open hole and grab a fist full of a. dirty diaper or b. raw meat. GAG!
- Process is put on hold while whatever mess Scooter has gotten on her hands is wiped away, which is kinda like wrestling a greased up monkey.
- The bag then makes the journey to the garage where it is set ON TOP of the the trash cans. Why? We will get to that in a minute. If the top of the trash cans are full, the bag is randomly thrown into the garage where it hits any number of unorganized items, knocking them over. Oh slitz!
- Tuesday rolls around and the decision is made as to whether the hubs or I feel like taking the trash out. If we don't, then the bag hangs out for another week with it's other bag friends having martinis and making fun of the disorganized garage. If we do feel like taking the trash out, we move onto step six.
- Our tractor is fired up and the bags are loaded into the front end loader. The tractor is backed out of the garage (yes, our tractor sits in the garage while our cars are parked outside) and makes the climb to the end of our 200 foot drive way (we.are.so.lazy.) Bag and all it's bag friends are dumped at the end of the driveway and the tractor is parked back into the garage.
- The garbage fairies come and take our bag away to garbage land where they have a trash bag party.
So why don't we use the cans? Because the hubs and I really can't handle processes longer than seven steps, and cans would mean we would have to add a seventh to bring the cans back into the garage, which just ain't happening. However, this process is an improvement over when I used to take our trash to my in-laws every week for pick up because the hubs and I were too cheap to pay for pickup ourselves.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
- You look like you're going to pop any minute! This one got so old during my pregnancy that at one point I said, "Yeah, all over your face." I know, so classy. This one goes right along with the "You must be carrying twins" gem.
- Are you wearing that? Yeah hubs, I am. I'm bloated thanks to Aunt Flo and there's no way in hell I'm squeezing this fat ass into a pair of Spanx. If you tell me I'm pretty, you might climb your way out of the no nooky hole. Especially if you buy me a Hershey Bar.
- Are you breastfeeding? Response: Sure am, want some? Inappropriateness breeds inappropriateness.
- You look... different. Standard response from the hubs whenever I get my hair done. Joke's on you, I just spent $150.00 to look "different."
- Here, let me demonstrate our product. I'm specifically talking about those annoying sales people at the mall hocking those nail buffing kits. First, don't touch me. Second, I'm pushing a toddler in a stroller. Do you really think I have time to do my nails? See, they're trimmed and clear of the poo I just got in them changing my toddler in the mall bathroom. That's about as close to a manicure as I'm getting lady.
- Did you get me anything? Another gem from the hubs. Nope, I gave you 24 hours notice to put anything you wanted on the grocery list. Pepsi and chips means Pepsi and chips. It does not mean Pepsi, chips, Slim Jims, underwear, pork chops, Call of Duty, hot dogs, ice cream, Little Debbies, socks, motor oil, shotgun shells, deodorant, and those "watcha call it things you got me a few weeks ago that I really liked."