You Say It's My Birthday (Duh Duh Duh Duh Duh Duh)

It's true. Thirty-four years ago today, I entered this world in a small hospital in Wisconsin on a cold, cold winter day. Here's my birth story straight from my mom's mouth... (sorry for those who don't know me - for the graphic details - but I think this is cool. Something to save... show my kids...)

"December 30, a Sunday, so you are a Sunday child according to the old English rhyme – I think it is a “child bonnie and fair”. At any rate, it’s a good day to be born and here it is a Sunday again1973 was. It’s your lucky birthday. It was very cold, snowy and icy back in ’73.

A month before, I was at work and slipped on a wet floor in the operating room and landed on my tummy. I was so off balance that I couldn’t catch myself. I was absolutely terrified that something bad had happened to you, but thankfully, everything was OK at that time. I’m not sure whether that fall had anything to do with your early delivery, but I think it did. Then, a couple of weeks before you were born, I took call in the operating room and worked 27 hours straight. I was so exhausted, I remember coming home and getting in the bathtub and just sitting there – Dad had to help me get out because I was too tired to help myself.

But by the time of the 30th, I was working half days and would come home at noon and sleep the rest of the day.

On that Sunday, Dad and I had gone on the tour of the hospital (which was a good thing since we knew where to go!) in the afternoon, and I started to get contractions. I remember one of the nurses asking me if I was OK when we were in the child birth classes. We went home and laid down in our bed and watched TV, and all I remember is that Dad was eating potato salad in bed and scraping the bowl with the spoon, and it was so irritating to me, it was like he was scraping on my every nerve. Then my water broke with a huge pop, I soaked the bed and the contractions started very fast and big time. Took my breathe away! I had to go to the potty and Dad had to help me up, it hurt so bad.

They were coming very fast and very hard, so Dad called the doctor and we headed out for the hospital. Every bump in the road was torture, and it was so cold and dark and snowy. We got to the hospital and the nurses put me in a wheelchair to wheel me upstairs while Dad went to park the car. They put me in a room and were getting ready to do the regular prep (you know, the shaving, the enema, etc.) but they left me alone for a while. I remember going to the bathroom again and then the resident came in (major babe – black and very handsome). Even in my pain, I remember thinking how handsome he was. He checked me and started shouting that I was about to deliver. They shoved me on a cart into the delivery room and put me on the table and my legs into stirrups. My legs were shaking so badly, it was like I was having seizures. They never did the other stuff, which I was very happy about.

The resident started the delivery and then my OB and Dad showed up at the very end (it was that quick) and I remember the OB commenting on all the dark hair you had. Thankfully, Dad got there for the delivery and he stood at the head of the table and helped talk me through it. This all started around 4:30 and you were born around 8 p.m.

You were so small and skinny, but so brave. And so beautiful. Long, angel eyelashes. Dad and I fell in love.

We shared a room with a mom who had had a baby boy. The first day I stood up, blood flooded out of me because the birth was so quick. I also remember holding you and you peeing in my lap.

Took you home two days later and Grandma came down to help. I fixed oyster stew for New Years and she had a major gall bladder attack and was in bed for a week. And, my boobs were leaking everywhere and hurt like heck. So, new baby, leaky boobs, very sick mother – in –law and me trying to recover from childbirth. And I cried and cried. And leaked and leaked.

I wouldn’t have traded it for the world, and giving birth to you was the highlight of my life. Truly.

I know it has not always been easy for you having me as a Mom, given everything that has happened. I am what you got and you made the best of it, but even though it hasn’t always been easy, you have always been my first consideration when you were growing up and I have always loved you the most. I am very proud of you.

I do not apologize for the kind of Mom I was – you and your friends could learn a lot from my generation!

Love you much

Happy 34th!"

Enough About You, Let's Talk About Meme

Well, I've taken a few days off and now I must forget about all the fun of presents and eating like a freaking pig enjoying time with family and get back to the demanding job of blogging. My new blogger friend, Jim, aka Busy Dad, has tagged me (hooray! I'm IT!) He tagged me for my first Meme to share 7 random facts about myself. I love that I know what Meme means now. Anyhow, I'm a teensy-weensy bit worried that I've run out of interesting/lame/curious/weird facts about myself, since I just did my 100-list a few DAYS ago, and I'm all listed-out. In fact, I can't come up with a SINGLE THING about me - it's been stressing me out and making me sweat at night, but, since I dig Jim's blog and think he's ultra cool for being such an awesome dad, I'll have to oblige by taking my best shot at it. I've also decided to add a few things about me that you can find on You Tube (because I love it and find myself there a la-hot)... here goes with the official instructions...

* * * *
Link to the person who tagged you, and post the rules on your blog.
Share 7 facts about yourself.
Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

* * * *

1. I secretly want to be a famous singer and also, at the same time, want even more to be on Saturday Night Live - even once. I like to think my singing voice is reminiscent of Wynona Judd, Nora Jones, Vanessa Carlton and Indigo Girls (no, I'm not gay, but I pretend to be one when I'm singing their awesomeness.) Perhaps a little something like this.

2. I'm uber-competitive - like on our CA vacation this summer, I was playing a friendly little game of Scrabble with my mom (the self-proclaimed best Scrabble player ever), and she was sucking my wind and complaining about the "damn letters she was getting stuck with", and whining about her horrible luck, blah blah blah. I finally said "stop being the victim here and just admit you suck." Ya, she almost drop-kicked me and headed back home on foot. (Don't even think about it, man. I'll add an "S" to make your word plural and use all 7 of my letters to triple-word-score you, baby.)

3. Let's see... my 2nd most embarrassing moment (ugh I can't believe I'm saying this, but I seriously can't even speak my most embarrassing moment out loud, so there's NO way I'm posting it on the internet for the lurkers in countries I can't even pronounce) - the only thing I'll say is it has to do with being 9 months pregnant and getting a bikini wax. Anyhow, to my 2nd-most embarrassing moment... in 5th grade - I had a crush on M.M., who I was sitting next to and I was just doing homework or something - looking down, minding my own beeswax and trying to send invisible love signals to Mr. M, when along comes Gina, aka Miss Perfectly Popular, who came behind me (she & I were friends, mind you) and she gave my sides a little squeeze and walked away, floating me a wink. Now she thought this was a cute way to express her friendship, however, when this happened, it became my almost-most-embarrassing-moment-ever, because - as I jumped up from the scare, being the ticklish thing I am, I ...tooted. In front of M.M. and I'm pretty sure there's NO way he or anyone else around me didn't notice. Wow I really can't believe I'm telling this, but people - I was in 5th GRADE! OK? Look - other FAMOUS people do it.. I've never done it since, so let's forget I ever mentioned it and move on...

4. I've been on a TV show before - called "Cookin' With Rita" - she was the first Oprah about 25 years ago, and I got to sit in the audience and watch her interview someone on how to make 'delicious homemade icecream' (they really used mashed potatoes so it wouldn't melt under the hot camera lights.) There you go - my 15 minutes of fame.

5. I used to be a server in the Eagles Bar & Grille in Telluride, CO, after college and I served Keith Karodine (Kung Fu)& Daryl Hannah (who doesn't know her??) some pancakes.

6. I still have literal nightmares about that job - we used to get so slammed for the apres-ski hour and all these uppety people would come in demanding their Hot Totties and Spinach Dip and such, and I forgot this one table's stupid rolls - like 14 times. They understandably got all upset and the manager gave them their meal free. Oh well. I can't tell you how many times I've dreamt about that... if only I remembered the rolls...

7. My 100-list is probably much more interesting, so just go look at that so I can get this thing done and go to bed.

***

I am tagging a few fellow bloggers I'd like to hear more about (no I'm not tagging 7 either, because Jim didn't, I won't either - I'm either a rebel or a follower) ...

1. My blogging-wonder-twin: OHMommy because even though you've done your 100-list already too, you said you could go on and on, so here you go girl.
2. My first blogging friend Angie who taught me the value of doing nothing and liking it.
3. My newest blogging friend Irene because she wraps pretty presents and takes pretty pictures.
4. To Tootsie Farklepants because 'with a name like that, it's got to be good.'
5. To Mountain Momma, because you sound so interesting!

Discuss amongst yowaselves...

And So It Begins...

The Pacifier Fairy received her letter today and even made a call to a giddy E, who was ecstatic to talk to the fairy (aka G's Wife), and E was equally as excited to interview the Fairy as to her whereabouts (Pacifier Fairyland, of course), and what her name was (Pacifier Fairy of course) - no what's her NAME? (Uh... Priscilla! Ya!) So, we've let PF know to pick-up the goods outside E's door and to leave something fabulous in return, and she obliged (and thus, the husband's job to assemble the princess fairy bike we purchased).

Then... it began... what will, I'm sure, turn out to be another 'longest week of my life.' The craziness of E's behavior that ensued this afternoon is unmentionable... she's gearing up every bit of disobedience and irreverant behavior she can muster and she's getting ready... getting ready to ruin my next 5 days and nights and make our lives a living hell. Just in time for Christmas. Yes, many believe I'm crazy for this timing, but I think it will be a good distraction - the presents, the company, the excitement, the sugary sugar she'll be inhaling -- yes, I could very well be insane. After several tantrums this afternoon, I made the connection between the PF's impending arrival and the fits. I said, "E - does this have anything to do with you being afraid to give up the Passy?" (Tears beginning to roll and head nodding affirmatively...) "I'm too YOUNG!" she says emphatically. Ugh - the mommy heart starts breaking for my sweet littleone who is in such grief, such agony. "I know my babyheart." "I know..."

Tonight after dinner as we're preparing for bed (right after we dosed her up with Benadryl... hey - we're not stupid... we've learned from the first time... see previous blog entry dubbed "Pacifier Fairy Come Hither"), she's telling Daddy (teary-eyed and lip-quivering, but trying to be brave) "Daddy, I don't want the Pacifier Fairy to come at all." He proceeds to give her the best 'daddy' talk I've ever heard. In fact, I've been weeping for about 20 minutes now, just listening to it all. To 'gist' it for you ... he's related a struggle of his to give something up, to hers... and it's precious. I mean remember-forever, tug-at-your-heart precious stuff and I love my husband for it and thank God for working in him and in us to be the parents we try to be.

More tomorrow...

All I Want For Christmas Is a Breathe Right Strip

(Sing with me, now)... "OH All I want for Christmas is a Breathe Right Strip, A Breathe Right Strip, yes a Breathe Right Strip."

Yes, it would seem my prayers have been answered through the ingenious invention of Breathe Right Strips to remedy my husband's obnoxious snoring. Since he's been sick lately, his snoring has crossed the sound barrier and has become more like a sonic boom, all through the night. When we first were married, he called me "Mean Sleeper" because I would literally kick him and hit him until he'd roll his big old self over to start the process over again. Since then, I've become a LITTLE nicer - but not much. The worst is when his snoring is also harmonized by our 180-lb. mastiff's snoring, which is equally as loud and she's completely un-wakeable. I can't tell her to roll over (although I've yelled it out many a time) - and when I hear her massive dewlaps flapping to and fro whilst the snoring is happening, it's utter torture. I become like a cornered cat and the hair stands up all over my body and I crouch in the fraction of a corner of my king-sized bed that has been allocated mine, and I am hissing, growling and ready claw someone's eyes out.

So to keep the Mean Sleeper at bay, we've finally tried the Breathe Right Strips for a few nights. At first, I thought - phew - these really do work! I slept OK... not great, but it curtailed the noise quite a bit. However, last night, as my husband is unconsciously barking at me from the bedroom, it occurs to me that these strips are NOT working, and have, in fact, given me a false hope disguised as a $14.99 dream-come-true. I want to rip the sticky strip right off his nose and stomp on it until I feel better or fall asleep - whichever comes first.

Lately, he's been keeping me up so much that I've turned to the couch (he of course would not consider sleeping anywhere but on the 99.78ths percent of our bed that he's allocated as his). I have a curved leather couch - very pretty - but definitely not a sleeping couch unless you've got a body shaped like a 'C'. However, I've become accustomed to making it one by layering blankets and positioning pillows in strategic places so as to simulate something comfortable and yet sound-proof from the war cries coming from my husband's nose/throat region. But I'm tiring of the couch - the cold, cold leather couch (remember my darling keeps our house at 62 at night), so what am I to do?

Can you say gift certificate for Thermal Ablation Palatoplasty in his stocking?

100 Things About Me

I'm incredibly impatient, so I've done my 100-list of things you may not know about me already...

1. I was named one name, and since birth, my family has never called me by that name. They're notorious for nicknames, so I got one and they still call me that. Most people in my family (on both side) don't even know what my real name is.
2. I get confused as to how to introduce myself when I'm meeting someone new, but with my family.
3. I used to switch back and forth between names and grades. Just to make things interesting.
4. I love food and cooking. I'm a wee bit addicted to eating. I scare most small-statured men, because on a good day, I can eat their body weight, plus some. When I'm nursing babies, watch out. Protect your small pets. If they're coated in olive oil and garlic, I'll eat 'em.
5. All-time favorite shows: Lost, Friends, Scrubs, Labor Day, Special Delivery, Medical Emergency (trauma), Iron Chef (or The Next Iron Chef), any Food Network cooking shows - mainly Tyler, Ina, Sandra and Giada eventhough she's annoying and has a head the size of Manhattan
6. I talk to NO-one from high school.
7. I talk to 4 people from college.
8. My cats have been named: George, Ginger, Ebony, Basil, Ellie, Java, Toonces (The Driving Cat), Sophie, Oran, James and Pontoof.
9. I love cats.
10. I'm OK with dogs.
11. I HATE wet hands - like I freak out if you come close to me with them... ugh - such an quirk of mine.
12. My family is from Wisconsin - my dad grew up on a cranberry marsh and my uncle lives in Pittsville, WI. Seriously.
13. My grandfather invented the cranberry picker and is in the Wisconsin Hall of Fame and on some History Channel documentary.
14. My husband does our laundry, although I "do" the kids' laundry.
15. I'm in love with blogging. In fact, it's frankly gotten in the way of my at-home business, but I can't help it... must... keep .... blogging....
16. I can do the wave with my eyebrows.
17. And the caterpillar with my body.
18. I did the caterpillar at my brother-in-law's wedding (I was in a bridesmaid's dress. I rock.)
19. I've had tubes in and adenoids out.
20. I go a little crazy every time I hear the Microwave beep when it's done (because it beeps 5 times. Who needs to hear 5 beeps every time it's done its business??)
21. I think I hate beeps in general.
22. I'm a Christian.
23. I've been slobbered on, peed on, hit, tripped over, "Fluffied" on, and coughed on... all today.
24. I love smart movies, sad movies and hilarious movies.
25. I can't walk straight - I constantly run into people just walking. Don't walk next to me.
26. (According to my husband)... "You're obsessed with having a clean house, but are the opposite in execution" WHAT does HE know??? I have two kids under 3.5! It's true, though. I suck at housecleaning.
27. I hate cleaning but have to clean for my sanity. Mostly when people are coming over. Ya pretty much only then.
28. If anyone comes over unannounced, I'll be hiding under my table pretending not to hear you or the doorbell... even if you can see me.
29. I used to be a big advertising exec. Now I'm just a mommy and occasional event planner.
30. Wow - this is long.
31. Playing Roseanna or Africa by Toto REALLY loud reminds me of jamming out with my dad in the car waiting for my piano lessons to start with Mrs. McFarland - she was almost dead and smelled like it - so did her house.
32. I love red wine, fondue and massages. All together would be sweeet.
33. My parents have been divorced since I was 5.
34. My mom remarried twice.
35. I love Turbo Kick Boxing and would like to box a chick in a ring someday.
36. I'm thinking about becoming a kick boxing instructor soon.
37. I'm a really fast typer - fastest in my 'typing' class in high school.
38. I still love Tom Cruise. I fully know he's a freak. I still love the guy. He had me at 'Hello'.
39. Funniest movies: Dumb & Dumber, Tommy Boy, Airplane
40. I used to play the piano.
41. I took ballet for 10 years and cry at 'what could have been' every time I go to "The Nutcracker"
42. I love to sing, but I'm not very good.
43. I have 7 fillings.
44. I lost one of my best friends, Heidi, to cancer on Feb. 16th. I miss her like crazy.
45. I'm a control freak. Yep. Little bit.
46. I started taking violin lessons at age 29.
47. I won 1st place playing "Mary Had A Little Lamb" on the violin at my company's Christmas party - for a $75 prize!
48. I love drum players.
49. I want to play the drums so badly I'm set on buying drums for my son and taking lessons with him just so my husband will let me have them.
50. I'm quite feminine, but a little bit of a tough girl on the inside... like I'm watching this AMAZING fight scene from Bourne Supremacy and it's SWEET.
51. I live down the street from a huge rock star. And I love him (and his family) - nicest guy ever.
52. I once lost my zebra-striped retainer (when I was 12) in a napkin and threw it away in a McDonald's garbage can.
52. I had to dig it out and looked through about 10 massive garbage bags in the outside dumpster to find it.
52.5 I also lost a retainer water-skiing when I was 10.
53. I didn't want to eat my hamburger when I was 6 and hid it in a napkin in the trash.
54. My dad found it and made me eat it.
55. My mom has been married (and divorced) 3 times.
56. I'm pretty sure Matt Damon and I would be happy. Or Matthew McConnaghy ??
57. I'm actually a great speller - having problems tonight.
58. I can predict what will happen in any movie.
59. When I had E, I was in labor for 15 hours (after being induced after my water broke) and still had to have a c-section.
60. E was in the NICU for 7 days after she was born and it's affected me forever.
61. I always wanted to be a Secret Service Agent.
62. And a dolphin trainer.
63. I love French decor.
64. My favorite book in the Bible is Hosea.
65. I lived (and skied) in Telluride, CO, for 6 momths after I graduated college.
66. I think I'm coming down with strep throat.
67. Again.
68. I'm a fast driver. Never obey the speed limit.
69. My kids haven't slept through the night in 3 miserable months.
70. OHMommy and Vintage Thirty are my favorite blogs to read.
71. My closet is a disaster area (along with my bathroom).
72. I want to renew my vows on a beach in CA at 10 years (and register, of course. ;)
73. I think my Christmas tree is prettier than most.
74. I'm a cheesehead at heart - born in Wisconsin
75. I'm 5'3.5" and proud of it.
76. I can roll my tongue like a taco.
77. My friend and I were riding the bus home during 8th grade and we were talking nonsense hoping other people would think we were French. Dweebs.
78. I love to laugh. I love to make people laugh. Laughing is the BEST. I'm really not friends with people who can't laugh or make me laugh. Period.
79. So... close...
80. I am getting so much gray hair it's scaring me.
81. After I had my 2nd child, I had purple stretch marks on both boobs that looked like starfish.
82. Fortunately, they're gone.
83. My first car was an old maroon Audi with a sunroof and sheepskin seats and no radio.
84. I spent a lot of my high school days in Rocky Point, Mexico.
85. I speak some French.
86. I hate sauerkraut, coconut, and rye
87. I love swing dancing (and any dancing for that matter.)
88. I sang a sorority song for my friend at her wedding.
89. Finding Nemo is hilarious.
90. I cry hardest at The Notebook, Terms of Endearment and Shakespeare in Love.
91. My cousin Roger in Wisconsin named one of his dairy heffers after me. (I guess all the cousins were bestowed this gift)...
92. I adore my grandma and hope to be as sassy and independent as she is when I'm 93 -
Hey - 93 (that's her age, and the next number.)... I didn't like my given middle name so I decided to change it (in my mind), and now I just tell people it's the new name.
94. I (pretend to) secretly despise our Nanny stealer at church. In fact, I refer to her as "Nanny Stealer."
95. So do my friends. I love them for that.
96. I want to live in Australia.
97. I like words like Jaunch (made up by me and that 8th grad bus friend), Farkle, Snark, Discombobulated, Careen, and Schnikeys
98. My husband doesn't even read my blog.
99. He snores like nobody's business and it drives me BATTY.
100. I can't wait until I have 100 posts!

My silliness

Yes, according to my friend, I DO indeed have too much time on my hands (clap, clap)... she and her husband are part of our 'group' of 11 people who willingly spend entirely too much time together. So per our annual Christmas Dinner tradition as a group, we had a White Elephant gift exchange. We're not very nice about it either. One year at said exchange, I got a box full of the contents from another couples' junk drawer - complete with screws, lint, old door knobs and crap like that. Yes, I pouted. But this year, I got a fun (somewhat broken) ab roller. Not that I'll ever use it, but it's a nice thought. Husband got a t-shirt with a picture of a naked guy bent over with no head and it said "Your Proctologist Called - They Found Your Head." Awesome. Did I mention this is a bible study group?

Anyhow, so our friend, 'G' got a tee-shirt with some sparkly home-made design on it from one of the girls in our group who made it long ago. He of course, being the fun guy that he is, pulled that shirt on right over his button-down.

Then - it hit me. He's ROBERT IRVINE! Now, for those of you in the dark ages unfamiliar with my friend, Robert, 1. get a clue and start watching Food Network. 2. He's a famous British chef who hosts this AMAZING show called "Dinner Impossible" where he's a caterer and gets thrown into these totally crazy, impossible scenarios to cook for like 10,000 people in an hour using only things he finds in his bathroom. Anyhow, he totally rocks - he's all buff and British and me likey. I think he's awesome mostly because he's a) got a cool accent, b) a take-charge kind of guy and knows his way around a kitchen - love that about a man - especially if the man is all manly, like my Robert (you need to say it with his nice accent.)

So here's a picture of 'G' and the reason why I think he looks identical just a LITTLE like my love, Robert. However, before I show you the pics, here's the email I sent 'G' just to make things fun.

Dear brother G,

This is Robert Irvine - chef extraordinaire, and... your twin. I'm sorry to pop this on you so unexpectedly, but I had to let you know now, so that you could get me a Christmas gift. I am indeed your long lost twin brother. Apparently, we were separated at birth when our parents agreed to one of those experiments where you take a child and put him on an island and raise him in a laBORatory (insert my English accent) to see how buff and brilliant a man can get (quite obviously, it worked for me.)

I got you a Christmas gift - please print this out and frame it at your expense. I love it, and it will always remind me of my new-found twin brother.

P.S. How's mum?

Love, Robert

(Here's G...)


And Robert...



This resemblance is a little creepy, no?

The Frozen Babysitter

So we come home from a long night at a concert. Very fun - front row center seats, which was cool (especially since the tickets were free - gotta love that)... We got to see our girl, Jordin Sparks (I've recently become an Idol Addict. So shoot me.) We get home, and are like, "uh... where's our babysitter?" Oh we see her - at the back door. Outside. In the FREEZING cold. Our doors lock on you unsuspectingly - well, only if you don't know to unlock them before you go out (which sounds easier than it really is), which clearly she didn't know to do. So our sweet babysitter went outside to play with our dogs after the kids went to bed, and ended up spending TWO HOURS freezing outside in the dark - she went into our also dark shed and hung out there with the dogs until we came home.

Ugh. I feel so awful for her. This was only her 2nd time sitting. Fortunately, the kids were fine - sleeping. But STILL! I can't imagine how mad/sad she was when it happened (and then for the hours following!) I'm sure she hates us - she's prolly all like "oh THEM - the ones with the trick door where I almost had to eat their dogs to stay alive in the cold!) Or better yet, she'll sue us for getting frost bite and endangering her life or something. Hopefully she's not litigious and will warm up soon.

Dog Eats Cat

Ugh. My day. A little weird. My friend was over - she drove us to pick up E from preschool and as we were leaving my driveway, we were talking about the urban coyotes that have nabbed 3 of our sweet cats in the last year or so. Then... just then - as the words were rolling off my tongue - we see a german shephard leaving our next door neighbor's house (who happens to feed 'own' 18 ferrel cats - no shots - no neutering or spaying - just this loner old guy who lives in the same house he was born in and hasn't made a SINGLE update - doesn't even have a front door or entrance of any kind - and who feeds these cats who are now coyote bait.)

So this dog is clearly up to no good - he looks strangely like he knows what he's doing... like he has a purpose for loitering in front of the cat haven that is my neighbor's home.

THEN - my friend hits the brakes - I'm like "WHAT?" and we see it... a freaking Jack Russell Terrier running out of my neighbor's pig pen yard carrying a DEAD CAT IN IT'S MOUTH!!!!!!! I jump out of the car and sprint into a full Chariots of Fire run down my street, ready to kick this little dog's ASS and he's fast... oh yes - he's faster than he really ought to be with those stubby little legs and a 20-POUND CAT IN HIS MOUTH! And as I'm running by my friend/neighbor, Amy's, house, she bolts out as well and we're both running and screaming at this little hellion and ready to take him down. But... we couldn't catch him.

He's SO lucky he didn't meet up with me. I love animals - but when one kills another - in front of me - I freak. I go crazy. Especially since my sweet cats are now kibbles and bits in this punk puppy's little stomach or some coyote just like him.

I want to kill this little dog. OK not kill - but something like it. I'm pissed. I loved my cats and I'm sure that Mr. W (the neighbor) actually likes all 18 cats of his too, even though that's a whole other story. I can't believe someone lets their dogs get out over and over to just roam the hood eating innocent cats. Amy said her little boys witnessed this very dog killing another cat a few weeks ago. WHAT is going on?

I'm feelin like a gangsta and I'm crazy. And I'm gonna get this little punk and pop him. I'll make him squeal like his life depends on it and raise my fist up in a rage shouting out my beloved cats' names... "JAVA - SOPHIE - TOONCES - I AVENGE YOUR TRAGIC DEATHS AND VOW ON MY HONOR TO MAKE THIS DAWG PAY WITH HIS VERY LIFE AND THAT OF HIS OFFSPRING AND CHEW TOYS!!!!"

Or perhaps I'll let my 180-pound Mastiff out to give the little guy a run for his money that he'd never forget. Ugh. Sad. **Sniff, Sniff** Poor kitty kitty.

2-Year Old Birthday Fun

Well, yesterday we had The Prince's 2nd birthday party. It was a mix of screaming toddler craziness (equipped with a Thomas the Tank Engine Ballpit), and a bunch of adults having a great time. We themed it a "Hat" party because my son obsesses over adores hats. He wears them constantly and it's just his 'thing'. So everyone had to wear hats and here were the winners of the best hat contest...



And here are some weird photos of my brother trying to take a picture, but he can't quite master the art of smiling normal or opening his beady little eyes.






And this morning, as my children were playing quietly and peacefully with all The Prince's new birthday toys, they came upon one of his presents and tried it on. Our friends are precious for getting him this thoughtful, sentimental hat they knew he'd love...

Pacifier Fairy, Come Hither

Oh mystical Pacifier Fairy,

How I long await your visit, yet with such mixed emotions - relief, gratefulness, yet fear and trepidation for the rage that lives within my 3-year old's heart whence she's parted with her beloved passy. When we tried beckoning you 18 months ago, the five days of volatile angst and 18 hours of sleeplessness for the young girl awoke a demon in her I wish not to reckon with yet again.

Oh Pacifier Fairy, how will it go this time? The parents know this must be the end. We must never call upon you again, for perhaps you might withdraw your secret powers and leave us with disappointing fare, much like the tooth fairy.

Will you leave sleep dust in our eyes, oh pacifier fairy? Or will we slowly rot and shrivel up from all the sleepless nights and oh - dare I say - no NAPS??? Oh pacifier fairy, I had not thought of this! What IF? Tell me THAT won't happen! Oh my. I am afraid. Very, very afraid...

Lists, Oh Lovely Lists

To quote my friend Angie "I lurves me a list," but can never seem to finish one (child-induced A.D.D. you think?), so I'll just combine a few lists that have been filling my head... perhaps you can finish them for me.

Top Three 10 things Every New Mom Needs to Buy:

10. Kleenex. You will cry at every sappy commercial and weep at every sad story about a child and even baby animals. Always. AND you'll never want to collect the spew of boogs for lack of planning on your part (see #'s 9 & 8 below this list).

9. Depends undergarments. If you're like me, you will pee your pants every time you give a big cough or jump up and down in Turbo Kick Boxing. Yes, the labor is a one-time thing that doesn't last, but the sweet reward that will last you a life-time is the incontinence. I remember fully peeing my pants while I was 7 months pregnant with E while I was waiting for ice cream at Cold Stone and sneezed, but at least I had an excuse - I actually had a 6-pound ball of linugo-covered kid punching my bladder. Now, I've got nothing but a sad, sad reality check every time I think I'm hot stuff and do some karate kick while exercising.

8. A Dust Buster hand-vac. I just bought one of these precious, precious appliances and will be putting it in my will - that's how valuable this thing is. The things I've cleaned up with this ingenious little life-saver: entire can of fish food (on 2 different occasions), goldfish in every imaginable place (the edible kind - not living, although if I were a betting woman, I'd put money on that coming down the pipeline), dried vomit, live spiders I'm too afraid of getting near for fear of them using supernatural jumping abilities and leaping to my hair and getting caught in it and making its home there - laying eggs in my scalp and then me dying like that woman with the 'beehive' hairdo did from the black widow eggs (anyone remember that tale?)

Other lists: Top Five 10 Things I Never Thought I'd Say:

10. "Stop licking the wall."

9. "Here - we're out of kleenex in the car - use my hand."

8. "Don't spit it on the floor - use my hand." (only in public places, mind you)

7. "Oh my gosh I sound exactly like my mother!" oh the horror.

6. "OK honey, tell me EXACTLY what the baby's poop looked like..."


Well, that's about all I've got this morning. Let's hear your best.

Aye Aye Aye, I'm a Very Bad Girl

OK, so I'm fully aware that I've broken every Blogging rule there is by neglecting my precious readers (all 8 of you);) and not blogging for well over a week. Ugh. I'm ridden with guilt. My deepest apologies to anyone who cares. I have had THE craziest schedule but I think it's passed now (much like my husband's dear grandfather, which is what contributed to my hecticness (apparently not a word, but I'm going with it)... husband out of town - left me with 2 dreadfully sick kids and oh by the way I was in charge of a massive Christmas Brunch for over 200 women that I had to juggle in his absence. So, he's back and all is getting back to normal, so here I am.

OK, so how was your Thanksgiving? Mine was pretty great - family in town - sweet cousin kids hung out together and the weather was so nice we even ate outside. Sadly, I didn't get nearly my fill of turkey skin, but I'll pull out a "Thanksgiving in July" dinner and get some more then to last me until November.

I'm finding it hard to write at this moment, since it's about 60 degrees in my house. My husband is crazy cheap frugal about paying for a/c and heat. Gets it from his father who's even worse, I hear. Just because we live in a desert doesn't mean we don't need HEAT. I can't feel the tips of 3 of my fingers and I'm feeling the hair in my nose start to get icicles. Ooh - here's a good blog topic... fill in the blank with your comments...

"My husband is SO cheap, that..."

I'm Thankful For...

I'll be brief since it's 3 a.m. again (what's my problem?? I don't even have the pleasure of being fuzzy on allergy medicine! I just can't sleep!) I've got to make my Thanksgiving shopping list right now, so I'm in the list mode...

Top Ten Things I'm Thankful For About Thanksgiving...

10. Spending another Kodak moment (day) with the Fam. Sorry to be 'expected' but they're the best.

9. The FOOD. I love the food on this day more than any other - love the 5 appetizer dishes for 'lunch', love the turkey dripped with gravy, stuffing, mashed & sweet potatoes and cranberry sauce (all carefully balanced in one bite so as to experience the goodness of all that is Thanksgiving food at once), love the rolls with butter and honey, love the pies, love the smells, love everything about it. love it.

8. An excuse to fill my stomach so full that I am in pain and need to nap instead of doing the dishes.

7. The sound of football in the background and my hub shouting "Ya, THAT's what we pay you for you Dink... why didn't you just give the ball to me? I could have done it better than that!" Sure.

6. Turkey skin... I know - this goes with #9, but it really deserves it's own number. Two years ago we went to my dad's for Thanksgiving and I have been boycotting his Thanksgivings ever since, because the man REMOVED THE SKIN prior to serving it. WHAT???? That's illegal! (And I don't use that exclamation point lightly.) Or it should be! Never NEVER do that to an unsuspecting guest. I passed out and starting crying as I came-to after hearing this news that day, and then I walked out (well I pretty much did those things. Or at least I WANTED to!) Crispy, fatty turkey skin is the true meaning behind Thanksgiving. Enough said.

5. The fact that Christmas decorating is one day away. I deck my halls and it's my favorite time of year. I picture thick winter coats and pretty scarves, people hustling and bustling about with their shopping bags and snow flakes on their eye lashes, everyone happy and that annoying Santa from Salvation Army ringing his bell... but I digress... it's just a FUN season. Too bad it will be 90 degrees on Christmas here in Phoenix. Nothing will be on my eye lashes except perhaps some sweat from cooking all day while wearing my pretty new green sweater that's entirely inappropriate for this weather. Oh well. A girl can dream.

That's enough list. Too tired. Now I have to do the real list. Happy thanksgiving everyone.

T-h-e T-u-r-k-e-y I-s a F-u-n-n-y B-i-r-d

It was Thanksgiving Program time at preschool again last night. SO stinkin cute, I might add. BUT, t'was the same program as last year (it's the season, so I think I'm going to start using 't'was' more often in my regular dialogue.) Thus, I pretty much lip-synched every word of the songs and the play. "PRAISE THE LORD!" (There's a 5-year old who plays a preacher in the play and he randomly shouts that phrase out.)

Here's a few pics of E (you know - the cute one in the back row with the brown dress who's being blocked by the RUDE 3-year old waving to his STUPID parents!;) She's in her homemade turkey head hat (note the mouth on the side of it's head... neat!)



Aahh - here's mi little dumplin - she has the look of giddiness I usually get when someone's handing me a plate of deep-fried, chocolate-covered something-or-other goodness)


Anyhoo, I can't get one of her darn songs out of my head, so since I'm high on allergy pills that won't let me sleep (but at least I can BREATHE while I'm up at 4 a.m.) I'm going to go ahead and sing (write) it for you now. Here's the caveat - you MUST not read quickly - I don't care if you won the speed-reading championship in 3rd grade - you MUST read veeeeeeerrrrrryyyyyy ssslllllloooooowwwwwlllllyyyy because that's how those teeny little preschoolers sing it (and, partially, why it's driving me freaking batty!). Here I go...
"The turkey is a funny bird. It's head goes WOBBLE WOBBLE (picture kids wobbling)
The turkey only says one word.... GOBBLE GOBBLE GOBBLE! (picture kids making hand movements under their chin to symbolize that red googly thing under a turkey's neck (what's that called?) Let's find out! (yep, it's 4:44 a.m. and apparently I'm UP for the day...)

On my rather quick and fun quest to find this fact (what the heck did moms do when they couldn't sleep 50 years ago????) I ran into some fun little trivia, so we're going to take a test...

1. What's the name of that red skin that hangs from a turkey's neck?
A. Snark (I chose that one cuz I likey the wordy)
B. Wattle
C. Garble
D. Swag

The answer is B. It's called a wattle. LOVE IT (however I would have been equally happy if it was a snark or garble).

Did you also know that...
* Turkeys have heart attacks. When the Air Force was conducting test runs and breaking the sound barrier, fields of turkeys would drop dead.
* Turkeys can drown if they look up when it is raining.

(****me dashing off quickly fumbling in the darkness to turn off my LOUD alarm that's supposed to be waking me up right now....) Good morning!

Rocks In Your Underwear and Other Normal Things

Well, my mother-in-law (aka "Nannie") came for a week-long visit and left this past weekend. It was an interesting week. She came to the realization that sweet, perfect babies do grow into kids who talk about poop and other silly things and they become a little less endearing at times.

For example, E was playing with her baby, Mary (her alter ego most days), while MIL was crocheting and E took a skien (love that word) of yarn and put it between Mary's legs and said "that's a big giant poop, Nannie!" Nannie didn't think it was very funny. Mommy and Daddy did - primarily because that verbiage comes straight from Daddy's mouth. On a daily basis. He's obsessed with BMs - well, let me restate... he's obsessed with HIS BMs. And yes, it's apparently huge and giant. The guy's 6'5" so I guess big things come from big packages. I digress. Anyhow, husband (aka "That Man") tends to talk about these things to our kids - and sometimes E will finish a 'job' and take a look and say "WOW Mommy - that's a MASSIVE poop!" Husband even has a running list of his favorite terms for doing this job... for example:
1. Coiling a steamer
2. Bending some pipe
3. Screaming mud-blower (he's cracking up right now over that one)I think it's probably similar to this
4. Spraying (only if it's really loose, similar to a 'mud-blower' - I'm told)
5. Burying an elf
6. Negotiating Chocolate Hostages, etc., etc.

So, it's no wonder my little angel is eager to make her own commentaries on her constitutions. And so I come to the title of this post... probably not as funny as the list, but it's where I started before the big tangent, so I feel like I must return...

So Nannie was sitting down on the loo and as soon as she pulled down her pants, she heard a 'plop' into the water below. Feeling like she still had control of her bowels, she wondered what on earth that was, and stood to look. She saw a big 'ol rock in the water - luckily - it hadn't dropped from her body - just from her underwear. How did it get there, you ask? The kids were putting rocks down her shirt hours earlier (something only a Nannie would let happen) and thus one little guy got lodged without notice, and there you have it.

Wanna hear the most annoying sound EVER???

Yes, much like one of my favorite movies, Dumb & Dumber, I too have my own version of the most annoying sound in the world. It comes from my almost-2-year-old, The Prince. It happens about 73 times a day. Whenever he doesn't like something, whenever I take something from him that he can't play with (my mascara, for example, or my bronzer that he broke this morning, or the 16 crayons that fell out of his clothes yesterday, etc.) he makes this screeching sound... like "Aah!!!!" - super high-pitched and super annoying. Then he repeats himself 82 more times until I remove him from the room.

When he does this, it makes me want to take those onions I'm chopping and rub them all over my bare eyeballs. Then it makes me want to get out the toothpicks in my baking cupboard and carefully insert them underneath each of my not-so-manicured fingernails. THEN I want to cry. WHY does my sweet child do this thing that makes him act so BRATTY??????

Who knows. I'm hoping he'll outgrow it, or I'll be blinded and won't be able to touch anything for the rest of my life. And that really would be a shame.

You Can't Make This Stuff Up

OK so E's said some funny things lately...
1. "Mommy, how do you spell 'bloody bags'?" HUH?????? I swear she's obsessed with blood for some reason...
2. She was telling my mom about Toonces and Java (our deceased cats nabbed by urban coyotes... no they're not an urban myth)... "Mimi, Toonces and Java went to Heaven." (Mimi): "I know honey... I'm sorry about that" (E): "Now Jesus has to feed them!"

And we won't forget The Prince... yesterday right before I dressed him up in his Monkey costume, he was wearing a sports jersey onesie, so while he was standing up, I unsnapped the bottom of the onesie and 16 crayons fell out of his outfit onto the ground. Hmmm.... odd. I guess the guy didn't have pockets, so where else was he going to put all those crayons?

What, You Didn't Know I'm a Fish Midwife?

Well, I didn't either, until last night. I've realized (much to my dismay) that there's LITERALLY something in E's (fishtank) water that is making the fish go crazy with reproductive activity, thus, we had the 5th round of babies we've had in 3 months last night. AND another one of the fish is about to pop any day now.

Now, let me back up for those of you who don't know this RIDICULOUS story... E's fish (Puppy & Puppy - the 2 Dalmatian Mollies that got knocked up at the same time - and they look alike - Dida, Marlin, Nemo, Dory, Sticky -- the Plocastamus -- and Annie. Now a few months back, One of the Puppies had babies - which I have had tanks my whole life and have never ever had fish that got pregnant (twice in 6 weeks), so I thought this was ultra cool. I got this tank net/divider to keep the babies in, so they wouldn't be eaten by the adults and then we kept one (Scooter) and gave away quite a few. THEN, Puppy, Dida, Annie and Scooter died while we were on vacation (something weird happened with all those babies peeing in the water... way too long of a story and surprisingly, this is turning out to be too long too, but I digress... The problem was, my mom, who was housesitting when they died (also a funny story that I'll save for another time), bought us another Puppy (actually two more - thus Puppy and Puppy) and a Dida and an Annie.

All was well - no more babies and new fish. Joy. Then, I started thinking Annie looked suspiciously pregnant - turns out ... she was. Right from the store. So, she had a few babies, and I thought that was it - that's pretty crazy to have 3 rounds of babies by different fish in such a short time. I was so tired of catching all those babies (with my kitchen seive, by the way, since I couldn't find my net) and all that goes with so many babies. Then one of the Puppies had a litter of fry (did you know that's what they're called??) - we managed to keep one, which is currently in the baby net.

So, the past few days, I've been thinking both Puppies look pretty fat... and last night when I was sneaking into E's room to turn off the fish light after she fell asleep I actually SAW Puppy having babies! After I noticed about 5 babies floating at the top of the tank. So I caught them, and was a little aggravated, but I guess I could find homes for 5 more fish. But they seemed to be everywhere - like they were coming out of the woodwork and I was wondering if I looked very hard at the beginning to find them... so 35 baby fish later!!!!!!!!!!!!!!... I'm talking to myself, thinking what the FLIP is going on??? Fish don't have this many babies and here I am chasing them around (with the kitchen tool) while Eden's sleeping trying to save them from the inevitable sure death if they're not separated from the adults. What EVER will I do with trillions of fish? I seriously considered 'accidentally' tipping the net to let them out and letting nature take it's course... we shall see... I still may. Am I horrible? Anyone want a fish? Or 10?

Sporks are good for more than coleslaw.

Well, I tried making a link to this picture, but I have to say, I feel like such a dummy for not knowing how to do that .. anyhow, here's that picture I was referring to in my profile... The question was: "Oops - your tongue is now a magnet - whatever will you use for silverware?" My answer: "A plastic spork from KFC... especially after seeing THIS in an email..." UGH - poor sweet guy! I hope he's better. I guess you really shouldn't run with sharp things...

My Drunk 3-Year Old

Yes, I said drunk. Not on alcohol, but we've discovered that when this wee one gets a dose a sugar in her veins, she literally becomes intoxicated by it. It all started a year ago when we took her trick-or-treating for Halloween when she was 2 and a half. We have never given her much on the sweets side so didn't give her more than one piece of chocolate that night, and put the bag of candy up on our buffet for the night after we tucked her in.

Meanwhile, I'm chatting with my husband in the office and about 20 minutes after we put E to bed, she comes bobbling in to us sputtering something about dinosaurs and her face was covered in brown (this was our first clue)... She managed to somehow sneak out of bed, vault the kitchen table to the buffet to get to the bag of candy and all the pieces of chocolate wrappers were there (licked clean), but alas, the chocolate was gone. She was in some kind of chocolate-induced delirium and was mumbling all sorts of incohesive thoughts, but was more than happy to show us her pile - she was like 'hey! look what I found! I bet you guys didn't know THIS was here! Want some? It'll make you see funny pictures of dinosaurs dancing around the kitchen!"

I think every child has some kind of Halloween candy-related story, so I didn't think much else of it, until she went to her first 'big-girl' birthday party the other night where she apparently had cake, ice cream and POP!?! She came home and I quite literally felt like I was experiencing the first "Mom drags home drunk teenager and holds her hair back, then puts her to bed" episode... except E's 3. She was again mumbling something or other and then would look at me with an ear-to-ear smile, throw her arms around my neck (while she's on the toilet, I might add) and say "I had too much sweets... I love you mommy. I love chocolate too. Want to sing?" Then she'd start laughing hysterically. Then she was crying. And then she did some super-human monkey-like freak show maneuver where she physically climbed up the bathroom door by merely hoisting herself on the door handles. Seriously.

This year, I'm going to be the mom everybody hates on Halloween and I'll make some kind of unbuttered popcorn balls that magically stick together, or something like edamame suckers to hand out and insist my kids throw away "all that sugary junk." Well... perhaps I'll still sort through it and pick out the Reese's and the Butterfingers for myself...

Dialogue of a 3-Year Old

Part of what keeps me sane is hearing the crazy, funny, strange things that The Princess ("E") says sometimes. She's a very articulate little one with lots of inflection and expression in her words - so it's particularly funny to me to hear some of the things she comes up with. I can only think of a few right now - but I'll be updating this particular entry as I hear or remember more. Keep in mind "Prince" is her almost-2-year-old brother, and "Bodhi" is our grumpy old dog.

Silly things my 3-year old has said:

1. (E's on the potty, her brother walks into the bathroom) "Let me close the door so I can have some privacy with you."

2. (Mommy): "What are you drawing, honey?" (E): "Oh it's just a picture of Bodhi's blood." (Mommy... hmmm....) Not sure what to think of that one!

3. (E): "I wonder why there is black on my pink hairdryer." (Mommy.... not really paying attention at this point) (E): "Maybe it's because The Prince put it in the candle." Indeed... he did.

4. (E responding to my statement that she can't hold Esther, the hamster): "But honey - I'll just hold her and love her and squeeze her. I won't drop her. It's OK - I can do it."

5. (E's on the potty and her brother walks in the bathroom - again)... "Hi Prince. Welcome!"

6. (A NEW ONE): Mommy - why don't we have a slide in our backyard? That's just uncorrectable!"

Noodles in my water

Well, today started off good enough. Took E to preschool (see cute pic of her vacuuming).


















But then, the typical day ensued... The Prince spilled my entire chocolate protein shake in my bathroom sink, after he drank just enough to get his face covered in brown (yep, he's adorning his sister's headband and just one croc).

And, of course later I found him sneaking out of my bathroom with my mascara again, holding it like a "bolly-bop" (aka lollipop) and this time, instead of just inside his entire mouth, the black-as-tar-ness is all over his eyes and cheeks too. He looked so pretty.


So then, during dinner tonight, here's what our 4-participant "conversation" looked like:

-husband: "I was trying to script my website to modify the layout of the stage..." (I stop listening because I'm flicking The Prince for squeezing his pasta noodles instead of eating them)...

husband: "...retarget every path in the whole thing blah blah blah..." (me: giving E a warning to eat her food instead of using the wrong end of the fork to scoop it into her mouth)

husband: "...old scripts being incompatible with new scripts ... (me blanking out at this point, eyes rolling back in the head)...

E: "Mommy! Look! A "Q"! (her noodle on the table)

husband: "...figured out a way so I didn't have to do new scripts, isn't that great babe?..."

The Prince: (still squeezing his noodles, reloading, squeezing...) "Mama - beh-yee!" (looking down at his belly laughing "heh heh heh", now proceeding to put noodles in his hair.) His food often ends up in his hair, for whatever reason. It's just his thing. (me: curling up, making a clicking sound and rocking slowly in my chair thinking 'happy place, happy place')

So now, it's bed time and I'm filling my glass of water and go to drink it up, and hesitate slightly, realizing there's something odd and long and 'snakey' in my water. Yep - it's a noodle. I'd imagine it's a present from The Prince. He always knows just what to give me.

Here's to bedtime in ... 8...7...6... I'm done.
But wait... I go to tuck E in - she asks me to sleep with her for a few minutes, which I always do ... so I crawl into the toddler bed that's not supposed to hold more than 100 pounds (no problem!) then we're cuddling and I'm smelling her clean hair and skin and closing my eyes, and she turns and gives me an eskimo kiss on my nose and I melt, realizing... who needs a plain old glass of water anyhow?

Yes, these are the sweetest days...

I'm an official member of the "Lazy Moms" club.

Yes, it's true - I've become unhealthily addicted to blogging and no doubt, it's likely to bring about my demise as a respectable human being in the near future. This morning, as I was avoiding cleaning the kitchen like it was the plague (which for all I know, it could be a breeding ground for the plague - or West Nile, since my friend might have that - but i digress...) Anyhow, as I was saying - while doing nothing but reading others' blogs and trying to find funny people to entertain me, I managed across an 'ad' that immediately caught my attention - it was entitled "Join the Lazy Moms Wasting Time Club". The tag line is "Might as well do something while you're doing nothing." Wait - was someone watching me? How did they know all that about me? I was intrigued, so I clicked and immediately knew I had to become a member. And thus, I'm here - the first official member of the club. I'm so proud. Then I started cleaning my kitchen, realizing how pathetic I was. And now I'm BACK - writing again. Being lazy.

"That Man"

So, I have to say that I probably have a stranger husband than most (in a good way) ... but perhaps not. He does have an unusual sense of humor. Kids are either terrified of him (he's a rather large man - 6'5" - 220 with a deep voice) or they love him (he actually can attract a fair showing of the 'alternative lifestyle' men as well.) One sweet little one - the daughter of some friends of ours - overheard a group of us in her living room during a get-together, and she told her mommy as she was getting tucked in that she could hear "that man" again.

Anyhow - Husband likes to make sound effects (he's pretty good at them too - my favorites are the helicopter, horses running, and the famous "Puma" (I also do my own rendition of "Lady Puma".) Once, we visited friends in CO and went out to dinner to a fancy-shmancy restaurant (that happened to be empty except for one other couple)... anyhow, long story short, Husband was 'put up' to doing the Puma in the restaurant since our friends hadn't heard it. Now keep in mind, his sound effects are indeed realistic - for this particular one, he cups his hands around his mouth, takes a deep breath and makes the loudest, scariest animal sound that apparently resembles the fierce call of a Puma. Now, I'm not sure if that's true, not ever hearing a Puma roar myself, but it gets a laugh and so I like it. It's also been known to make small children run away... fast. But that's another story alltogether. Anyhow, so he actually decides to do the Puma (quite unexpected, since he's not one to take live requests, but this night he did, much to these unsuspecting people's surprise.) He gears up, there's silence in the room since there's literally no one in it but us, our friends and this one other couple sitting across the restaurant) :::cricket, cricket, cricket::: and he let's it rip... Our friends' eyes light up as they jump in their seats, however, I notice out of the corner of my laughing-so-hard-now-tearing-up-eye that this other couple in the restaurant just about hit the ceiling like a cat up on all it's claws with it's hair sticking up like it got electrocuted. Oh this was so funny to me. Then the guy goes "What the @#$% was THAT???" lol.... oh... funny stuff. Anyhow, after regaining our composure, we explain that the sound was only my husband, etc.

But really, he's pretty funny when he's not trying to be. Ladies, you know what I mean by 'trying to be', right? I mean when he purposely tries to be 'funny guy' - I call it putting on "The (insert husband's name) Show". Occasionally the (Insert Husband's Name) Show can be funny - I will give an obligatory laugh to perk him up, since it seems it's a large goal of his to make me laugh. His best odds are when I'm overtired (yes, it's a word - he always thought it was hilarious when I'd say "Oh the baby's just overtired"... he still thinks it's a made-up word.) Anyhow, when I'm too tired, I will laugh all day at his show - oh, the joy it gives him. And as much as I try to be impervious to the silliness and resist the urge to laugh at his shenanigans, when I'm tired, it's like trying to make a fist when you first wake up... impossible!

Anyhow, I thought my kids would give the most inspiration to my blogs, but frankly, I'm enjoying sharing stories about my betrothed as well. Over and out. -Lady Puma

The Joys of Motherhood

Oh the things children say and do. Being a mom is pretty hilarious. The things you hear and see in any given day are amazing, and often mind-boggling. Many of my experiences involve my children putting various things in their mouth (well, actually mostly just Finn) . For example, my almost-2-year-old son "The Prince" (dubbed "2-Foot Ball of Anger") has an affinity for sucking on the wand of my mascara. He'll often come out of sneaking into my bathroom and he'll have a black-as-tar mouth with some pretty black smudges sporadically placed on his little body... lovely.

The Prince also has a border-line obsession with wearing hats. Any hat will do - his hats, his sister's hats, things that look like hats. In fact, he will pick even the smallest of hats out of a picture or book and yell "AT!" (pronouncing "h's" is not in his repertoire yet).

I also find humor in the way my kids pronounce and use common words - for example, The Prince says "Caca" (for cracker - or really any food, for that matter). He also tends to call every adult male "Daddy". For some reason, this often bothers the Husband. Like when he and the Prince were in the grocery store and he pointed to a large African American man and said "Daddy!" My husband obliged the comment with "yes, honey, I'm sure he's somebody's daddy," to which the nice man replied "uh-huh."

The Prince also has a knack for seeking out and finding even the smallest of bugs in our house - most are dead, thankfully - and then he likes to bring them to me (a lot like a cat brings you their half-mangled kill to make you proud). I've had him bring roaches, spiders and general bugs that I don't think really have names - they're just called "Yuk" in our house. Now he's at least bringing them to me and saying "UK!" But, whatever - at least he knows how to throw them away by himself so I don't have to touch them.

I know I'm not the most-organized person when it comes to finding my personal belongings. Especially now that I have kids. I won't deny that in my past, I've lost many a retainer in strange places - at the bottom of a lake, for one -- after an attempt at waterskiing and swallowing entirely too much water. Another fun one... McDonald's garbage cans (yes, my mom made me dig through the bags and bags of trash in the dumpsters until I found the white napkin it was wrapped up in - but hey - at least I found it.) And sure, I've been known to leave my wallet on top of my car while getting gas, and drive off with it there. I was all upset and was ready to blame the 'unscrupulous people of the street' for stealing it after it fell off the top of my car, until I realized that the guy honking SO rudely behind me while I was pulling out of the gas station was actually trying to tell me I was forgetting something. Good thing I flipped him off (this was a long time ago - I would NEVER do that now ;) Oops. But, I'm telling you - it's not always my fault. For example, about a month ago, I couldn't find my makeup palatte - this is no small thing either - about the size of ... um... I don't know - like a 4 x 5 picture -- or just 4x5 (duh). It holds like 10 eye shadows and a couple of blushers. Anyhow, it's a big thing not easily lost in the disarray of my bathroom drawers. So, I can't find it for a day or so until I'm unloading the dishwasher and find it there - a present from Finn just waiting for me - a little more 'sponge-y' than it used to be, but surprisingly, all the eye shadows and blushes are in tact and still mostly usable. It's always important to know how dishwasher-safe your belongings are. Phew - good to know.