Posts
1. I frequently find myself with snippits of hilariousity and find that whereas they might be bloggable, they are short. So, after seeing that The Extraordinary Ordinary and Mighty Maggie both participate in "7 Quick Takes", I've decided to jump on board! And the cherry on the bloggy cake is that I've asked a TON of NON-RHETORICAL questions. Participation points will be part of your overall grade.
2. As you might have noticed in my Twitter sidebar, Conner and I had an interesting conversation last night. While playing "Sta Was, Cone Was" (Star Wars: Clone Wars) (sigh...), Conner turned to me and stated "I need my space". Oh... well.. ok, and with that I moved back a few feet. He then turned to me and repeated "I need my space.." and then he turned around, stuck out his butt and added "... I have space in my butt". Boys. Are. Weird/Gross.
3. We've switched from DirecTv to Charter. I hate it.
4. I've started our taxes and boy am I fed UP with a certain company not having my 1099 ready. It is practically the heart of our financials (my husband is a stock broker... and what better to do at work all day than play with the stock market. It's not as wonderful as it sounds... seeing as we've lost a lot this year.) Isn't it odd that my husband is a stock broker but I do the taxes?
5. Chase said "Cheeeee" last night as I took a few quick pics of the boys playing. It cracked me up to no end. His big toothy grin melts my insides.
6. In two weeks, I will be choosing a birth control method. No pills for me, they make me a special form of crazy. Can't do the shot either. So, it's between the Mirena, that other implant made of copper, or maybe the ring? I'm considering doing a series of posts on the information I've gathered about the pros and cons. Anyone interested?
7. Where do you people hang all 27 million of your family photos? I mean, I have SOOOO many and I've got frames, and our house is 2,200 square feet... but I don't want this place looking like a museum...not that hanging pics of my handsome family wouldn't make a fine museum. For reals.
Be a participant over at The Conversion Diary
31 January 2009
30 January 2009
Flogging Molly? *Updated
Someone on Facebook updated their status a few days back with the following: YourNameHere is enjoying some Flogging Molly.
And for some reason, without knowing how to flogg or who Molly is, I've had those two words stuck in my head since.
So, today I asked The Internets, which told me this: "Flogging Molly is a seven-piece Irish American Celtic punk band that formed in Los Angeles, California and is currently signed to SideOneDummy Records." - source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flogging_Molly. I could have kept reading the wiki article, but lets be frank, I've got A.D.D. juices spewing out my rear. (oh, that's nasty...)
I still don't know if I enjoy flogging. I could be flogging right this instant and not even know. Flogging could be my life's calling.
I might have just flogged all over the kitchen.
My husband could come home tonight, tick me off because I'm hormonal and he's being jerky...I could yell at him "FLOGG YOU". Who knows.
As for Molly... well, as of yesterday This Molly tells me she likes my blog. And I like people who like my blog. So, I could totally flogg her. I think...
**Update: Sooo... after a nice comment from a blogger buddy, who pointed out that flog means "to beat", I googled "define: flogging" and found these results:
1) to beat or whip, sometimes with a cane
2) to sell something
3) to STEAL something
4) to defeat
5) ...some nonsense about grazing and pastures....
6) a technique used to create pores in hardwood floors
and there's this:
7) to run around an engine depot without the benefit of a formal permit
So, Molly... I'd like to run around an engine depot without the benefit of a formal permit all because you read my blog. Isn't that darling?
And for some reason, without knowing how to flogg or who Molly is, I've had those two words stuck in my head since.
So, today I asked The Internets, which told me this: "Flogging Molly is a seven-piece Irish American Celtic punk band that formed in Los Angeles, California and is currently signed to SideOneDummy Records." - source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flogging_Molly. I could have kept reading the wiki article, but lets be frank, I've got A.D.D. juices spewing out my rear. (oh, that's nasty...)
I still don't know if I enjoy flogging. I could be flogging right this instant and not even know. Flogging could be my life's calling.
I might have just flogged all over the kitchen.
My husband could come home tonight, tick me off because I'm hormonal and he's being jerky...I could yell at him "FLOGG YOU". Who knows.
As for Molly... well, as of yesterday This Molly tells me she likes my blog. And I like people who like my blog. So, I could totally flogg her. I think...
**Update: Sooo... after a nice comment from a blogger buddy, who pointed out that flog means "to beat", I googled "define: flogging" and found these results:
1) to beat or whip, sometimes with a cane
2) to sell something
3) to STEAL something
4) to defeat
5) ...some nonsense about grazing and pastures....
6) a technique used to create pores in hardwood floors
and there's this:
7) to run around an engine depot without the benefit of a formal permit
So, Molly... I'd like to run around an engine depot without the benefit of a formal permit all because you read my blog. Isn't that darling?
29 January 2009
28 January 2009
Hubsters Say The Darndest Things..
Aren't they just adorable?
"Honey, how do I even work the washing machine...?"
Right. Mrs. Born Yesterday over here doesn't know you are trying to get out of washing your nasty socks. Silly boy.
Michael told Conner that if he ate too many sweet things, he'd get a fat belly. Then today, at lunch, Conner finished a small serving of noodles that I had dished out simply for cooling purposes. I proceeded to give him more after said noodles were adequately cooled to which he disapproved.
"My tummy will get too big", he tells me.
Awwww... these early days of anorexia... aren't they just precious....
(Happy Birthday Hubster, I hearts yousa muchly!)
"Honey, how do I even work the washing machine...?"
Right. Mrs. Born Yesterday over here doesn't know you are trying to get out of washing your nasty socks. Silly boy.
Michael told Conner that if he ate too many sweet things, he'd get a fat belly. Then today, at lunch, Conner finished a small serving of noodles that I had dished out simply for cooling purposes. I proceeded to give him more after said noodles were adequately cooled to which he disapproved.
"My tummy will get too big", he tells me.
Awwww... these early days of anorexia... aren't they just precious....
(Happy Birthday Hubster, I hearts yousa muchly!)
27 January 2009
Product Review Pending for Toy Opening Angst Relief
In the December issue of Cookie Magazine, I noticed a plug/ad for what they refer to as a “Christmas Miracle”.
We (the parentals) have all found ourselves mere seconds from the Valium spiked Martini’s come time to unwrap and assemble the “Santa” loot or BirthdayYacht/Mansion/Schwartz on Crack Extravaganza sensible gifts when we find ourselves in some twisted 7th circle of Hell torture mechanism that is better known as The Box The Toy Comes In.
We’ve probably all had the conversation with friends and family while breaking our nails, knives and jaws-of-life getting into these things about how AB-SO-LUTELY ABSURD it is that it requires the strength of a mountain lion-grizzly bear hybrid to open a mother lovin’ choo-choo.
This “Christmas Miracle” is called OPENIT! and can be purchased at enjoyzibra.com for $13 bucks. It includes a miniature jaws-of-life wire cutter apparatus at the top, scissor blades, a thin blade for CDs and DVDs, as well as a SCREWDRIVER BUILT IN for the bolted down toy and battery compartment that you probably don't have batteries for anyways (we buy ours at SAM’S Club)… this tool seems to be a one-stop-shop to prevent mommie from boozing it up on baby’s birthday. Good call.
And I might add that’s it’s a small price with a big reward. Vodka is EXPENSIVE people.
Plus, the potential onset of Def Con 5 Mode Toddler Meltdown and sanity of your child is spared since their generation expects everything in seconds. Ugh. I’m questioning if all 5 years and under children are secret ADD-esque droid bots waiting to take us all over with their microchips in our brains that they intend on taking control from some Super Computer Com Central located at a Kindergarten near you (when the times comes, naturally). Can’t wait…
I personally haven’t tried out this genius invention, but if those nice PR people over at enjoyzibra.com want to send one or two for an Official Review, I wouldn’t complain. I’d be happy to review it AND give one away to my fellow mommies that, like me, are ready to start burning toy boxes instead of trying to kill ourselves in these mousetrap packages.
No pressure...
**Update: Zibra.com will be supplying a sample for review in April. Stay tuned!
We (the parentals) have all found ourselves mere seconds from the Valium spiked Martini’s come time to unwrap and assemble the “Santa” loot or Birthday
We’ve probably all had the conversation with friends and family while breaking our nails, knives and jaws-of-life getting into these things about how AB-SO-LUTELY ABSURD it is that it requires the strength of a mountain lion-grizzly bear hybrid to open a mother lovin’ choo-choo.
This “Christmas Miracle” is called OPENIT! and can be purchased at enjoyzibra.com for $13 bucks. It includes a miniature jaws-of-life wire cutter apparatus at the top, scissor blades, a thin blade for CDs and DVDs, as well as a SCREWDRIVER BUILT IN for the bolted down toy and battery compartment that you probably don't have batteries for anyways (we buy ours at SAM’S Club)… this tool seems to be a one-stop-shop to prevent mommie from boozing it up on baby’s birthday. Good call.
And I might add that’s it’s a small price with a big reward. Vodka is EXPENSIVE people.
Plus, the potential onset of Def Con 5 Mode Toddler Meltdown and sanity of your child is spared since their generation expects everything in seconds. Ugh. I’m questioning if all 5 years and under children are secret ADD-esque droid bots waiting to take us all over with their microchips in our brains that they intend on taking control from some Super Computer Com Central located at a Kindergarten near you (when the times comes, naturally). Can’t wait…
I personally haven’t tried out this genius invention, but if those nice PR people over at enjoyzibra.com want to send one or two for an Official Review, I wouldn’t complain. I’d be happy to review it AND give one away to my fellow mommies that, like me, are ready to start burning toy boxes instead of trying to kill ourselves in these mousetrap packages.
No pressure...
**Update: Zibra.com will be supplying a sample for review in April. Stay tuned!
25 January 2009
I've been Ticketed for a Maternity Clothes Violation
I wore a MATERNITY sweater to FAMILY pictures*. Here's your sign, Amanda.
I picked out 2 brand new Polo’s for Con, and 2 brand new Polo’s for Chase along with a pair of Kenneth Cole jeans for Chase and some pretty sweet designer jeans for Conner.
Michael had his pick of 1 new Christmas shirt and several others that are nice and gently wore since he wears The Monkey Suit 5 days a week.
Oh, but me? Little old momma? The one that WASHES all those nice clothes - sorts them and folds them or hangs them up? The one that wears jeans that are 4 years old and bra-tanks EVERYDAY that I bought when I nursed Conner THREE-AND-A-HALF-FRIGGIN-YEARS-AGO, well… I have NOTHING.
Today, I marched my happy booty up to Express with a generous gift card from the MIL and a mission – to NEVER wear my maternity digs again (unless pregnant, and you all know how I feel about THAT!).
Ironically, I did aforementioned marching to the mall in nothing less than a dress I bought 5 months preggo with Chase worn over the 4-year-old jeans. It’s that bad. (Sidetracked: Do you feel insecure about shopping and looking like a dud? I feel like they are all starring at the poor little helpless fashion dud. Just embarrassing. And then the HAIR. JEEZ! It’s impossible to try on clothes and not exit looking like Elvira. I digress)
I spent 2 hours in a room FULL of options. I tried on almost EVERYTHING there! I left with leggings, several nice dressy-ish tops, the staple nice tees (for the Pre-K pickup, duh), and a NEW PAIR OF JEANS – THAT FIT!!
I was over the moon excited to finally have something to wear! That is, until they rung me up. I won’t tell you the amount, but dang… clothes are expensive! Even with a nice gift card!
Alas, it was worth it to gain a bit of “me” back. I enjoy being halfway fashionable and the only way I’ve been able to achieve such for the past 4 years meant A) Borrowing something from my MOM (how SAD is THAT!) or B) Wearing one of 2 shirts over and over and over and over (you get the point).
Yay! Fashion SANITY! HOORAY!
Now if only the family photos* were postponed till after my fashion crisis was resolved. Sigh.
*Will post by the end of this weekend. Aside from my fashion violation, they turned out well.
I picked out 2 brand new Polo’s for Con, and 2 brand new Polo’s for Chase along with a pair of Kenneth Cole jeans for Chase and some pretty sweet designer jeans for Conner.
Michael had his pick of 1 new Christmas shirt and several others that are nice and gently wore since he wears The Monkey Suit 5 days a week.
Oh, but me? Little old momma? The one that WASHES all those nice clothes - sorts them and folds them or hangs them up? The one that wears jeans that are 4 years old and bra-tanks EVERYDAY that I bought when I nursed Conner THREE-AND-A-HALF-FRIGGIN-YEARS-AGO, well… I have NOTHING.
Today, I marched my happy booty up to Express with a generous gift card from the MIL and a mission – to NEVER wear my maternity digs again (unless pregnant, and you all know how I feel about THAT!).
Ironically, I did aforementioned marching to the mall in nothing less than a dress I bought 5 months preggo with Chase worn over the 4-year-old jeans. It’s that bad. (Sidetracked: Do you feel insecure about shopping and looking like a dud? I feel like they are all starring at the poor little helpless fashion dud. Just embarrassing. And then the HAIR. JEEZ! It’s impossible to try on clothes and not exit looking like Elvira. I digress)
I spent 2 hours in a room FULL of options. I tried on almost EVERYTHING there! I left with leggings, several nice dressy-ish tops, the staple nice tees (for the Pre-K pickup, duh), and a NEW PAIR OF JEANS – THAT FIT!!
I was over the moon excited to finally have something to wear! That is, until they rung me up. I won’t tell you the amount, but dang… clothes are expensive! Even with a nice gift card!
Alas, it was worth it to gain a bit of “me” back. I enjoy being halfway fashionable and the only way I’ve been able to achieve such for the past 4 years meant A) Borrowing something from my MOM (how SAD is THAT!) or B) Wearing one of 2 shirts over and over and over and over (you get the point).
Yay! Fashion SANITY! HOORAY!
Now if only the family photos* were postponed till after my fashion crisis was resolved. Sigh.
*Will post by the end of this weekend. Aside from my fashion violation, they turned out well.
24 January 2009
Selfishly Nursing
I’ve considered starting the weaning process with Chase. He’s been doing very well (better than expected) in the Mighty Transition to the Crib, sleeping from 9-1:30. After that, he wakes up and nurses for close to 45 minutes! So, being the lazy bum exhausted mother that I am, after close to an hour of being up I just pull him in bed with me. He then proceeds to wake and nurse every hour till 5:30 and then takes a “nap” till 7.
So, here’s my thinking: if he were weaned, would he have a need to wake and nurse? I’m guessing no.
What’s stopping me then? GREAT question, dear friends. I need my boobies.
Not so much NEED them as I need them to be not flat. After I weaned Conner, I promptly went from a full C/D to an A… and barely an A. As a matter of fact, I went to Victoria Secrets and was measured by a Boobie Specialist. Her EXACT quote after measuring me and informing me of my new size was “Oh darling, I’m sorry but we don’t make anything smaller than an A…” I sure hope she got a raise….
And they weren’t just itty bitty titties… but flat pieces of skin with nipples that I had to physically lift and form into a round shape for my bra. PA-THETIC and oh so depressing. Seriously.
We have vacation in late April, so the dilemma at hand involves me not wanting to look like a One-Eyed, One Horned Floppy Boobie Martini Eater in a yellow polka dot bikini. If I continue to nurse, I can maintain a suitable bra size for our vacation (around a C) and with VOLUME.
I feel selfish, yes, but I’m already fighting my arse being 2-inches lower than it SHOULD be at 24, the stretch marks on my thighs, and my distorted belly (although it’s starting to take better shape).
The benefits to Chase are additional boobie time (which gets its own post later, aren’t you THRILLED??!), the balanced nutrition of boobie milk and snuggly wuggly time with my snookie faced angel face (awwww).
So, it’s polling time! What do you guys think? Is nursing to keep my voluptuous titties too selfish or do I totally deserve to not look like grade-A poop for our vacation in April?
So, here’s my thinking: if he were weaned, would he have a need to wake and nurse? I’m guessing no.
What’s stopping me then? GREAT question, dear friends. I need my boobies.
Not so much NEED them as I need them to be not flat. After I weaned Conner, I promptly went from a full C/D to an A… and barely an A. As a matter of fact, I went to Victoria Secrets and was measured by a Boobie Specialist. Her EXACT quote after measuring me and informing me of my new size was “Oh darling, I’m sorry but we don’t make anything smaller than an A…” I sure hope she got a raise….
And they weren’t just itty bitty titties… but flat pieces of skin with nipples that I had to physically lift and form into a round shape for my bra. PA-THETIC and oh so depressing. Seriously.
We have vacation in late April, so the dilemma at hand involves me not wanting to look like a One-Eyed, One Horned Floppy Boobie Martini Eater in a yellow polka dot bikini. If I continue to nurse, I can maintain a suitable bra size for our vacation (around a C) and with VOLUME.
I feel selfish, yes, but I’m already fighting my arse being 2-inches lower than it SHOULD be at 24, the stretch marks on my thighs, and my distorted belly (although it’s starting to take better shape).
The benefits to Chase are additional boobie time (which gets its own post later, aren’t you THRILLED??!), the balanced nutrition of boobie milk and snuggly wuggly time with my snookie faced angel face (awwww).
So, it’s polling time! What do you guys think? Is nursing to keep my voluptuous titties too selfish or do I totally deserve to not look like grade-A poop for our vacation in April?
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