Its the eeeennnnddd of the woooorrrrrlllldddd as we know it - and I feeeeel ffiiiiinnnnnnnneeeeeee!!!
Didn't stop me from trying to eat my weight in buffalo wings last night.
Calories on Apocalypse Eve don't count. Right?
Friday, December 21, 2012
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Why give them what they want?
We have all heard all about the shooting in Connecticut.
It is horrible and disgusting.
But we all know that. We have all heard for 3 days now about the evil that had taken place. We have heard in detail about the shooter, the victims, the weapons, and a whole lot of speculation. We have heard all sorts of debates about school safety, gun control, mental illness and even prayer in school. I am not going to talk about any of that - because if I have to hear any more about any of it I will scream.
We keep wondering why these kinds of things happen. I think that reason is simple. There is a crazy, evil person who wants others to hurt like he hurts - and so he decides to go after those who are innocent. He does it because after all is said and done - he will be gone and the whole world will know his name.
Think about it. All of the big shootings in my lifetime - Columbine, Virginia Tech, Gabby Giffords, Aurora CO, and now Sandy Hook Elementary - I could tell you the names of the murderer. I know their basic stories, who they were, where they were raised - and what they did that day. You know what I couldn't tell you? A single name of a victim. Not one. I have no idea who the poor people were who were gunned down. I don't know who and what they left behind.
This is what the killers want. They want the world to know them. They are going to die anyway - so they may as well go out with a bang.
I think we could take away a lot of the incentive for these types of crimes if the media vowed to never mention the killers. I will not type a single one of their names here. I won't wonder why they did what they did. I don't care. I don't want to know.
The coverage from Connecticut has been pretty much non-stop since Friday morning. We have been hearing more and more about this murderer. Neighbors, friends and family have been interviewed. His mental illness is being debated. His picture is being splashed all over - and some equally sick fucks are setting up fake social media accounts and pretending to be the killer.
This is because the media -and really our society as a whole - glorifies these sick people. Now, some equally disturbed person is watching and thinking "I could do this. Then everyone would know my story. Then they would have to listen."
If we didn't give the killer that attention - the incentive is gone. They may as well blow out their brains in their car on some dirt road - makes no to difference to the world. Their miserable little lives would end with all the dignity they deserve - none.
I think, as a society - we need to really step back and check ourselves here. We need to look at the message that we are sending out to those who have this kind of hate in their heart. We need to start asking questions about the victims, and change the channel when the killer is mentioned. The press needs to never show his picture or speak his name.Stop sensationalizing this kind of violence. Then all the glory is gone. I understand the drive to rationalize something like this - but that is impossible. This is not a rational person or a rational act - so that is a fruitless action. Our energy should be spent rallying around those who were harmed and lost loved ones. The disgusting piece of waste who caused all of this hurt should be given all the thought that he gave the rest of us - and that is absolutely fucking zero.
It is horrible and disgusting.
But we all know that. We have all heard for 3 days now about the evil that had taken place. We have heard in detail about the shooter, the victims, the weapons, and a whole lot of speculation. We have heard all sorts of debates about school safety, gun control, mental illness and even prayer in school. I am not going to talk about any of that - because if I have to hear any more about any of it I will scream.
We keep wondering why these kinds of things happen. I think that reason is simple. There is a crazy, evil person who wants others to hurt like he hurts - and so he decides to go after those who are innocent. He does it because after all is said and done - he will be gone and the whole world will know his name.
Think about it. All of the big shootings in my lifetime - Columbine, Virginia Tech, Gabby Giffords, Aurora CO, and now Sandy Hook Elementary - I could tell you the names of the murderer. I know their basic stories, who they were, where they were raised - and what they did that day. You know what I couldn't tell you? A single name of a victim. Not one. I have no idea who the poor people were who were gunned down. I don't know who and what they left behind.
This is what the killers want. They want the world to know them. They are going to die anyway - so they may as well go out with a bang.
I think we could take away a lot of the incentive for these types of crimes if the media vowed to never mention the killers. I will not type a single one of their names here. I won't wonder why they did what they did. I don't care. I don't want to know.
The coverage from Connecticut has been pretty much non-stop since Friday morning. We have been hearing more and more about this murderer. Neighbors, friends and family have been interviewed. His mental illness is being debated. His picture is being splashed all over - and some equally sick fucks are setting up fake social media accounts and pretending to be the killer.
This is because the media -and really our society as a whole - glorifies these sick people. Now, some equally disturbed person is watching and thinking "I could do this. Then everyone would know my story. Then they would have to listen."
If we didn't give the killer that attention - the incentive is gone. They may as well blow out their brains in their car on some dirt road - makes no to difference to the world. Their miserable little lives would end with all the dignity they deserve - none.
I think, as a society - we need to really step back and check ourselves here. We need to look at the message that we are sending out to those who have this kind of hate in their heart. We need to start asking questions about the victims, and change the channel when the killer is mentioned. The press needs to never show his picture or speak his name.Stop sensationalizing this kind of violence. Then all the glory is gone. I understand the drive to rationalize something like this - but that is impossible. This is not a rational person or a rational act - so that is a fruitless action. Our energy should be spent rallying around those who were harmed and lost loved ones. The disgusting piece of waste who caused all of this hurt should be given all the thought that he gave the rest of us - and that is absolutely fucking zero.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
The Sod House and Clay Ring
My little sister just graduated from college this week. YAY KATE!
We had a fantastic time at the party. She was sweet and happy and I am so proud that she had this incredible accomplishment.
In the interest of full disclosure though, Kate is a hippie. Seriously. She doesn't shave, she makes her own soaps and deodorants, she grows a lot of her own food, wears sweaters made from alpaca - you name it. She is a bona-fide hippie. The older she gets the more mellow she becomes, but its still a pretty funny.
So the gang that was at the party was...interesting. Lots of body odor. Not much hair on the women's heads- but lots on their legs. Dreadlocks everywhere. A few Mario brothers looking hats and mustaches - some festooned with feathers.
The kicker for me was a girl that my sister has been friends with since they were little. I am more than 5 years older than Kate - so I have lots of memories from when her friends and her were like 10. This girl was so sweet (which she still seems to be), so cute, and just a normal bubbly kid.
She now has a practically shaved head and tells me that she and her fiance want to head out to San Francisco (of course) and live in a sod house. Hmmm....I wasn't aware that the major metropolitan area would have a lot of untouched land to make a house out of dirt. Not only that - but can you afford the millions that land would go for? And what about building codes? I am a little confused.
But then - THEN - she busts out her engagement ring. Her fiance is a potter (of course) and he made her ring. Which is a lovely idea...but its made of hemp rope, clay, and an arrowhead. Quite the sign of everlasting love - you know? Just don't get it wet!!! Its like the gremlin of engagment rings.
AND THEN - she drops the bomb that made my night. "Well - I work in a daycare - and I can't wear my ring to work because I am afraid that it would CUT A BABY."
Yup.
Let that sink it.
Read it again.
You are welcome.
Awww, Kate. You never disappoint.
We had a fantastic time at the party. She was sweet and happy and I am so proud that she had this incredible accomplishment.
In the interest of full disclosure though, Kate is a hippie. Seriously. She doesn't shave, she makes her own soaps and deodorants, she grows a lot of her own food, wears sweaters made from alpaca - you name it. She is a bona-fide hippie. The older she gets the more mellow she becomes, but its still a pretty funny.
So the gang that was at the party was...interesting. Lots of body odor. Not much hair on the women's heads- but lots on their legs. Dreadlocks everywhere. A few Mario brothers looking hats and mustaches - some festooned with feathers.
The kicker for me was a girl that my sister has been friends with since they were little. I am more than 5 years older than Kate - so I have lots of memories from when her friends and her were like 10. This girl was so sweet (which she still seems to be), so cute, and just a normal bubbly kid.
She now has a practically shaved head and tells me that she and her fiance want to head out to San Francisco (of course) and live in a sod house. Hmmm....I wasn't aware that the major metropolitan area would have a lot of untouched land to make a house out of dirt. Not only that - but can you afford the millions that land would go for? And what about building codes? I am a little confused.
But then - THEN - she busts out her engagement ring. Her fiance is a potter (of course) and he made her ring. Which is a lovely idea...but its made of hemp rope, clay, and an arrowhead. Quite the sign of everlasting love - you know? Just don't get it wet!!! Its like the gremlin of engagment rings.
AND THEN - she drops the bomb that made my night. "Well - I work in a daycare - and I can't wear my ring to work because I am afraid that it would CUT A BABY."
Yup.
Let that sink it.
Read it again.
You are welcome.
Awww, Kate. You never disappoint.
Thursday, December 13, 2012
I'm a MEAN lame-o-mom
TJ is the only person in my life who knows that I write this blog.
I wasn't sure that I wanted anyone to know, but as the only time I really have to sit and write uninterrupted is when Pants is sleeping, he figured it out. He is too smart.
Anyway, he has it set up to get a little email when I post - and he read yesterday's post. The woman that I referenced in the post is someone who is nice, and who I know on a very limited basis outside of the library.
I was apparently "mean" about her yesterday.
Ummm....yeah? I mean - I don't use a person's real name, I didn't name the town we live in and the name of the library or the program that would give anything away. And one more thing....NO ONE READS MY BLOG!!!
So maybe I was mean. I don't think I was. I think I was venting about the pressure that a mom faces from other moms when we should be getting support - and I was using a real life anecdote to illustrate my point.
Even if I was mean...so? Isn't that the point of a personal blog on the internet? I get to work the crankies out so that I am still a pleasant person in real life. Hopefully.
TJ - watch your back. I may be mean to you next. Mwua hahahahaha.
(Love you)
I wasn't sure that I wanted anyone to know, but as the only time I really have to sit and write uninterrupted is when Pants is sleeping, he figured it out. He is too smart.
Anyway, he has it set up to get a little email when I post - and he read yesterday's post. The woman that I referenced in the post is someone who is nice, and who I know on a very limited basis outside of the library.
I was apparently "mean" about her yesterday.
Ummm....yeah? I mean - I don't use a person's real name, I didn't name the town we live in and the name of the library or the program that would give anything away. And one more thing....NO ONE READS MY BLOG!!!
So maybe I was mean. I don't think I was. I think I was venting about the pressure that a mom faces from other moms when we should be getting support - and I was using a real life anecdote to illustrate my point.
Even if I was mean...so? Isn't that the point of a personal blog on the internet? I get to work the crankies out so that I am still a pleasant person in real life. Hopefully.
TJ - watch your back. I may be mean to you next. Mwua hahahahaha.
(Love you)
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
I'm a lame-o mom...
Apparently.
Pants and I hit up our public library on Wednesdays. We have a baby story-time that we go to, do rhymes, stories, puppets and play with other babies.
We have lots of fun. Its nice to interact with other women who are in a similar situation, and its SO CUTE watching Pants run and play with the other kids. All the babies are under two, so its freaking adorable.
That said - I was saying to another mom how it is nice to get out of the house and have others to play with. She immediately launched into all the things that her and her son do - parents as teachers, MOPS, a get-together group, and on and on and on. She offers to hook me up with all these groups, which is nice - but...
That sounds like a lot of work. That sounds like something just about every day. Most of this stuff isn't free - and one of the things is someone coming to our house, doing fluoride treatments on his teeth - and checking his milestones. Ummmm isn't that what my pediatrician does? And isn't there fluoride in the water? I guess I'm not understanding the reason to have duplicates here...and pay for it. When I already pay for it once.
I guess I looked skeptical - because it was immediately "Oh - no - its wonderful! They give you these wonderful exercises and learning activities that you can do! They make it so you have lots of ideas for activities!"
OK - maybe this is me being a dense - but why is playing with my son not enough of an activity? We read books, play with toys, puzzles, dance, sing, talk about whatever I am doing, point out colors, shapes, count - and just be silly all day. Am I nuts? Am I stupid and too easily entertained? I think my baby is a freaking genius, and my doctor is thrilled with him, so I don't think I am messing up too much. We have plenty to do with errands and things.
I would like to do a few activities a month - I want him to meet other kids and be outgoing and have friends - but I get SO tired of the sancti-mommies. I can't handle the constant competition. I can't take having to have something schedules that is educational and meaningful every second of every day. I want time just be BE with my baby. That's it...watching him figure out a toy, watching him whisper when he thinks he is being sneaky. Just being together. Plus - when he gets a little older - I hate to think that we have raised our kids to that every moment of every day has a plan or they don't know what to do with themselves.
I do what to make memories - but when I do a special project or something, I want it to be just that - SPECIAL! I don't want every day to have to out-do the day before. What freaking pressure.
Pants and I hit up our public library on Wednesdays. We have a baby story-time that we go to, do rhymes, stories, puppets and play with other babies.
We have lots of fun. Its nice to interact with other women who are in a similar situation, and its SO CUTE watching Pants run and play with the other kids. All the babies are under two, so its freaking adorable.
That said - I was saying to another mom how it is nice to get out of the house and have others to play with. She immediately launched into all the things that her and her son do - parents as teachers, MOPS, a get-together group, and on and on and on. She offers to hook me up with all these groups, which is nice - but...
That sounds like a lot of work. That sounds like something just about every day. Most of this stuff isn't free - and one of the things is someone coming to our house, doing fluoride treatments on his teeth - and checking his milestones. Ummmm isn't that what my pediatrician does? And isn't there fluoride in the water? I guess I'm not understanding the reason to have duplicates here...and pay for it. When I already pay for it once.
I guess I looked skeptical - because it was immediately "Oh - no - its wonderful! They give you these wonderful exercises and learning activities that you can do! They make it so you have lots of ideas for activities!"
OK - maybe this is me being a dense - but why is playing with my son not enough of an activity? We read books, play with toys, puzzles, dance, sing, talk about whatever I am doing, point out colors, shapes, count - and just be silly all day. Am I nuts? Am I stupid and too easily entertained? I think my baby is a freaking genius, and my doctor is thrilled with him, so I don't think I am messing up too much. We have plenty to do with errands and things.
I would like to do a few activities a month - I want him to meet other kids and be outgoing and have friends - but I get SO tired of the sancti-mommies. I can't handle the constant competition. I can't take having to have something schedules that is educational and meaningful every second of every day. I want time just be BE with my baby. That's it...watching him figure out a toy, watching him whisper when he thinks he is being sneaky. Just being together. Plus - when he gets a little older - I hate to think that we have raised our kids to that every moment of every day has a plan or they don't know what to do with themselves.
I do what to make memories - but when I do a special project or something, I want it to be just that - SPECIAL! I don't want every day to have to out-do the day before. What freaking pressure.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Blogging failure!
Wow - I suck as a blogger.
I keep two blogs. This one - and a private one that I keep mushy family memories that I don't really want everyone to have access too. Plus when I read other blogs about moms gushing over their little darling it makes me cranky - because really - no one cares but them. So I refuse to be one of those people.
I update that one more than this one. Whoops.
And every time I log on - blogger dashboard has this thing at the top about the stats page - and that blog has tons of views. Neither of mine have any views in the last month. Makes me feel bad. And seeing how the other one is private - maybe I should actually write down some of my snarky thoughts and THEN I'll be allowed to whine when no one reads me.
To bring you back up to speed.
Still broke.
Still not pregnant. Still not trying not to be pregnant.
We now have to give Pants a dime every time we cuss. Well - we keep track and have to give him a dollar when we get to a buck. To my horror - I hit a dollar WAY before TJ. I was SURE he had the bigger potty mouth. But, I haven't been venting on here - so I guess it had to go somewhere.
That is my super exciting life. Whheeeee.
Oh - I met a kid with the name Omnlee. Or Ohmleigh. Either way - what in the actual fuck??
I keep two blogs. This one - and a private one that I keep mushy family memories that I don't really want everyone to have access too. Plus when I read other blogs about moms gushing over their little darling it makes me cranky - because really - no one cares but them. So I refuse to be one of those people.
I update that one more than this one. Whoops.
And every time I log on - blogger dashboard has this thing at the top about the stats page - and that blog has tons of views. Neither of mine have any views in the last month. Makes me feel bad. And seeing how the other one is private - maybe I should actually write down some of my snarky thoughts and THEN I'll be allowed to whine when no one reads me.
To bring you back up to speed.
Still broke.
Still not pregnant. Still not trying not to be pregnant.
We now have to give Pants a dime every time we cuss. Well - we keep track and have to give him a dollar when we get to a buck. To my horror - I hit a dollar WAY before TJ. I was SURE he had the bigger potty mouth. But, I haven't been venting on here - so I guess it had to go somewhere.
That is my super exciting life. Whheeeee.
Oh - I met a kid with the name Omnlee. Or Ohmleigh. Either way - what in the actual fuck??
Thursday, October 4, 2012
I hate being broke.
I don't have horses.
I can't afford a sitter.
I have 111 books on my nook wishlist.
I haven't gotten a haircut in 8 months.
I just have to make it until this spring. Things will get easier.
I can't afford a sitter.
I have 111 books on my nook wishlist.
I haven't gotten a haircut in 8 months.
I just have to make it until this spring. Things will get easier.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Ugh!
I wish that I had more time to write. I know its been almost a month. I have tons I could talk about.
- Crazy in-laws
- Baby Food
- Leaving Pants for the first weekend
- Ann being a cripple and refusing to fix it
- Maitreya
- My Nook
- The fall is coming!
- Missing horses
And that just off the top of my head.
I wish the baby/house/husband/life would let me write more.
I have to try harder.
- Crazy in-laws
- Baby Food
- Leaving Pants for the first weekend
- Ann being a cripple and refusing to fix it
- Maitreya
- My Nook
- The fall is coming!
- Missing horses
And that just off the top of my head.
I wish the baby/house/husband/life would let me write more.
I have to try harder.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Blasphemy!!
I am thinking about doing the unthinkable.
I want an e-reader.
I am a HUGE fan of books. I love everything about them. I love the way they feel in my hands, I love turning pages, and love all the text in the neat lines. I own hundreds, and I am acquiring more hardbacks all the time. My goal in my forever-home is to have a library, with floor to ceiling bookshelves, and an rolling ladder. I love losing myself in a story, and I am so amazed at the authors who have the ability to write a BOOK. A book. A whole book. I wish I could do that. I wish I could make a story from start to finish. I want to make people care about something, and I want to build worlds with words. The problem is, I just don't seem to be able to flush out an idea enough to make an entire book. I can barely get a blog post together.
I don't think any of that will change. There are a few problems with books. (Just so you know, that sentence hurt to write.) Really one big one, they are expensive. And I am sad to say that I own a fair few that I have not read, nor do I have any desire to. I also have a few that I have started, and not enjoyed. While they look pretty sitting on my shelf, I wish that I could own others, that I do love. There are some of my books, like the Harry Potter series, that I have read to the point that they are becoming destroyed. Seven, beautiful hardback books, with broken binding and pages falling out, food smudges, dog-eared pages, and water-damage. This breaks my heart. I fully intend on purchasing a set of the books that are NOT for reading...and just continue to read my poor, beaten up set.
An e-reader would help with some of this. I wouldn't hurt my books. And downloading books are much cheaper than purchasing them. I could read a book, and then if I love it, wait to find a decently priced hardcover for my collection. I also read so fast, that when we travel, I need to carry multiple books. That would be easy-peasy with the e-reader. I could carry almost 1,000 in my purse.
I am not a patient person, AT ALL. Now that I have decided I want one, I spent nap time researching the different options. I want a Nook Glowlight. TJ and I agreed to wait until closer to Christmas, the plan is of it to be Christmas present for me, and I am sure they will go on sale when we get closer. But my nature is that when I want it I want it NOW. TJ is on a business trip, and Pants has a fever and is sleeping a lot, so I want a Nook, NOW. Ugh. I even have a cute faux-leather purple case for it picked out. We have a wedding in Colorado in two weeks, and I would LOVE having a Nook for the 8 hour trip up and back. And for when Pants wants to go to bed early and I am alone in the hotel room trying to not wake him up.
How much trouble do you think I would get in if I just ordered it? Or just went to our B&N and got it?
Friday, August 24, 2012
Sandhiller Motel
We are at a wedding this weekend for one of TJ's very old friends. We are in Wray, Colorado - which is this teeny town up in the corner kinda by Nebraska. TJ is a groomsman in this wedding - and the host very graciously put us up in the only motel in town - The Sandhiller.
Can we say - not impressed?
Pants has a yeast infection on his poor little booty. Our pediatrician said to keep it open to air as much as possible. At home I just build him nests of towels in his pack and play and let him nakey-baby it up. The rash was really starting to get under control.
Well, since we are traveling this weekend, he spent most of his day in a car seat. So we stripped him down when we got to the motel, and let him play on the floor. He peed on the floor, so I got a washcloth to wipe it up. The cloth came up - BROWN. Not tinted, like dark, nasty, brown. Ew. I know that its a motel, and they don't shampoo their carpet every day - but come on! Once every six months? The 20 years of filth is just nasty. So now Pants is made to stay on the bed, where there is nothing to pull up on and he can't be nakey in case he pees, so we all lose.
Then - TJ is hanging out with the wedding party tonight, so I asked him to run down to the vending machine to grab me a soda before he left. He gave me a list of options. I sent him with a dollar. The change machine was broken. Fine. We raided the coin purse, which usually goes in Pant's piggy bank. He hit every single button and the only one that would work was the root beer. Fine. I like root beer.
And then I am sitting, watching Law and Order, listening to Pants sleep, having a relaxing time, and I hear a key in the door. I'm thinking - "Wow, that's quick. He hasn't even been gone a whole hour." Oh, no. Its a stranger. Walked in said "Oh, Excuse me!" and left.
What???
Ok Sandhiller. You need to get your shit together. Clean. Stock the soda machine. And for Pete's sake - QUIT WALKING INTO RANDOM PEOPLES ROOMS! Yeesh.
Can we say - not impressed?
Pants has a yeast infection on his poor little booty. Our pediatrician said to keep it open to air as much as possible. At home I just build him nests of towels in his pack and play and let him nakey-baby it up. The rash was really starting to get under control.
Well, since we are traveling this weekend, he spent most of his day in a car seat. So we stripped him down when we got to the motel, and let him play on the floor. He peed on the floor, so I got a washcloth to wipe it up. The cloth came up - BROWN. Not tinted, like dark, nasty, brown. Ew. I know that its a motel, and they don't shampoo their carpet every day - but come on! Once every six months? The 20 years of filth is just nasty. So now Pants is made to stay on the bed, where there is nothing to pull up on and he can't be nakey in case he pees, so we all lose.
Then - TJ is hanging out with the wedding party tonight, so I asked him to run down to the vending machine to grab me a soda before he left. He gave me a list of options. I sent him with a dollar. The change machine was broken. Fine. We raided the coin purse, which usually goes in Pant's piggy bank. He hit every single button and the only one that would work was the root beer. Fine. I like root beer.
And then I am sitting, watching Law and Order, listening to Pants sleep, having a relaxing time, and I hear a key in the door. I'm thinking - "Wow, that's quick. He hasn't even been gone a whole hour." Oh, no. Its a stranger. Walked in said "Oh, Excuse me!" and left.
What???
Ok Sandhiller. You need to get your shit together. Clean. Stock the soda machine. And for Pete's sake - QUIT WALKING INTO RANDOM PEOPLES ROOMS! Yeesh.
Monday, August 20, 2012
Man. Tougher than I thought.
I have 19 posts saved in drafts.
These are incredible, witty, brilliant ideas that I have written down. Some I have almost completed, I am just not pleased with a couple areas. Most are one or two sentences to remind me what I was thinking.
I like writing. I like getting stuff out of my head and out somewhere. It feels good.
Apparently, 7 month old children do not understand a mother's need for catharsis. Pants is the most difficult he has ever been. He naps less. He is figuring out that his voice gets him stuff, and spends hours a day using it. He does not forget when he wants things now. If I hide a forbidden object, instead of being happily distracted by a mommy-approved object, he yells at me. Yells. I get absolutely nothing done in a day. Its terrible. And I still do not get a full nights sleep ever. Getting closer. But not there yet.
Wow, I sound whiny. This is a wonderful time also. He is hilarious. He laughs. Its this wonderful, cute little noise. It sounds like he can't catch his breath sometimes. He follows the dogs around, he loves them. I can see the little hamster running in his head as he figures something out. He is so smart. He has this cute little fuzzy-duckling hair that stands straight up.
Its an interesting time. Its hard/fun/scary/fulfilling.
I am trying to write. I am. My boss says no.
(P.S. My boss had his doctor check-up last week. He was 18 lbs and 26 3/4 inches tall. Big man.)
These are incredible, witty, brilliant ideas that I have written down. Some I have almost completed, I am just not pleased with a couple areas. Most are one or two sentences to remind me what I was thinking.
I like writing. I like getting stuff out of my head and out somewhere. It feels good.
Apparently, 7 month old children do not understand a mother's need for catharsis. Pants is the most difficult he has ever been. He naps less. He is figuring out that his voice gets him stuff, and spends hours a day using it. He does not forget when he wants things now. If I hide a forbidden object, instead of being happily distracted by a mommy-approved object, he yells at me. Yells. I get absolutely nothing done in a day. Its terrible. And I still do not get a full nights sleep ever. Getting closer. But not there yet.
Wow, I sound whiny. This is a wonderful time also. He is hilarious. He laughs. Its this wonderful, cute little noise. It sounds like he can't catch his breath sometimes. He follows the dogs around, he loves them. I can see the little hamster running in his head as he figures something out. He is so smart. He has this cute little fuzzy-duckling hair that stands straight up.
Its an interesting time. Its hard/fun/scary/fulfilling.
I am trying to write. I am. My boss says no.
(P.S. My boss had his doctor check-up last week. He was 18 lbs and 26 3/4 inches tall. Big man.)
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Is this affection...or more sinister?
I fear my son is a zombie.
I mean, he is super cute. Adorable actually. All little spiky blond hair and big blue eyes. He squeals and babbles and laughs, and is generally the largest source of entertainment in our house.
We almost ran the legs of the dachshunds the other day because the baby was giggling at them. They were both panting and begging to quit. Nope. The baby likes it. Keep going dogs. They also have learned that when Pants goes for their racket ball - they better let the baby take it. They have sat for what I'm sure seemed like an eternity to a dog, shaking and whining, while Pants investigated the thing that they chase.
Anyway. We have a bit of a disturbing development in our house. Pants always was eating his stuffed monkey's head. When he did it, TJ would yell "BWAINS!" and we would all get a kick out of it. If only we could have seen what was to come. We would not have been so blase about it.
Pants has graduated to bwainsing me. He gets fistfuls of my cheeks (which feels lovely on its own) and then gnaws on cheeks, chin, forehead, or any place he can get his little gums. Its pretty gross. That kid drools. But it was cute and I called it baby kisses. Ha.
He cut a tooth. Its barely out. But its sharp and hurts like a serious son-of-a-bitch when he is chewing on my nose. When I saw "Ow" and make him stop digesting me, he LAUGHS. Like a little maniac
I am a little concerned for when he is able to get out of his bed and come into my room while I sleep. TJ is not worried. He says that he will grow out of it. From what I understand though, a zombie has an insatiable appetite. It don't look good for Gentry.
I mean, he is super cute. Adorable actually. All little spiky blond hair and big blue eyes. He squeals and babbles and laughs, and is generally the largest source of entertainment in our house.
We almost ran the legs of the dachshunds the other day because the baby was giggling at them. They were both panting and begging to quit. Nope. The baby likes it. Keep going dogs. They also have learned that when Pants goes for their racket ball - they better let the baby take it. They have sat for what I'm sure seemed like an eternity to a dog, shaking and whining, while Pants investigated the thing that they chase.
Anyway. We have a bit of a disturbing development in our house. Pants always was eating his stuffed monkey's head. When he did it, TJ would yell "BWAINS!" and we would all get a kick out of it. If only we could have seen what was to come. We would not have been so blase about it.
Pants has graduated to bwainsing me. He gets fistfuls of my cheeks (which feels lovely on its own) and then gnaws on cheeks, chin, forehead, or any place he can get his little gums. Its pretty gross. That kid drools. But it was cute and I called it baby kisses. Ha.
He cut a tooth. Its barely out. But its sharp and hurts like a serious son-of-a-bitch when he is chewing on my nose. When I saw "Ow" and make him stop digesting me, he LAUGHS. Like a little maniac
I am a little concerned for when he is able to get out of his bed and come into my room while I sleep. TJ is not worried. He says that he will grow out of it. From what I understand though, a zombie has an insatiable appetite. It don't look good for Gentry.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
TJ Doesn't Even Know He is Still In Trouble
TJ and I had a stupid tiff one morning about a week or so ago. He probably doesn't even realize that I still think about it every time his alarm goes off at 5:20 - but I do.
I'm a woman. I hold grudges. It's annoying and I can't help it.
TJ's work begins at 6 a.m. He sets his alarm for a little before 5 and hits snooze until 5:20 EVERY MORNING! One morning, when his alarm started going off, Pants started fussing. I asked TJ if he could give the baby a bottle really quick - since it was 5:04. I got a lot of huffing and "That will make me late. I just can't do it. Wah, wah, wah." By this time Pants was full on wah, wah, wahing so I just got up and huffed my way out and took care of the baby.
Six minutes. It took me six fucking minutes.
When I returned to our room - TJ was in the shower. Hmmmm. Normally, he is still in bed. I know that he heard me get done with the baby and hopped in the shower just so that he didn't have to listen to me say "See, you totally could have helped." I crawl back in bed, and check the time. I close my eyes and listen to him shower.
How do I know he got in the shower just to prove me wrong? His alarm goes off a full 10 minutes after I get back in bed. When I have to crawl back out of bed to shut it off - cause he was in the shower. For 20 minutes.
Then on the way out the door - at 5:48 - he says "See, it would have been 5:58 now."
It took everything in me not to say something. So I stayed quiet. Which he interpreted correctly. He said I was mad about something stupid, went to work, and we haven't talked about it again.
I know its nothing. He is a wonderful dad, he helps with Pants TONS. I just rubbed me the wrong way that he wouldn't give me 6 minutes out of his morning. He would rather get up early and shower to prove me wrong, than help me out. Jerkface.
I would have been awake anyway listening to him feed the baby, and since I was already awake, I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep until he was gone. So it really didn't change much for me. Other than ticked me off.
I have now taken it out of my head - and onto the interwebz. Now I don't have to be all grudgy about it.
See? This blog is helping my marriage already. Boo-yah.
I'm a woman. I hold grudges. It's annoying and I can't help it.
TJ's work begins at 6 a.m. He sets his alarm for a little before 5 and hits snooze until 5:20 EVERY MORNING! One morning, when his alarm started going off, Pants started fussing. I asked TJ if he could give the baby a bottle really quick - since it was 5:04. I got a lot of huffing and "That will make me late. I just can't do it. Wah, wah, wah." By this time Pants was full on wah, wah, wahing so I just got up and huffed my way out and took care of the baby.
Six minutes. It took me six fucking minutes.
When I returned to our room - TJ was in the shower. Hmmmm. Normally, he is still in bed. I know that he heard me get done with the baby and hopped in the shower just so that he didn't have to listen to me say "See, you totally could have helped." I crawl back in bed, and check the time. I close my eyes and listen to him shower.
How do I know he got in the shower just to prove me wrong? His alarm goes off a full 10 minutes after I get back in bed. When I have to crawl back out of bed to shut it off - cause he was in the shower. For 20 minutes.
Then on the way out the door - at 5:48 - he says "See, it would have been 5:58 now."
It took everything in me not to say something. So I stayed quiet. Which he interpreted correctly. He said I was mad about something stupid, went to work, and we haven't talked about it again.
I know its nothing. He is a wonderful dad, he helps with Pants TONS. I just rubbed me the wrong way that he wouldn't give me 6 minutes out of his morning. He would rather get up early and shower to prove me wrong, than help me out. Jerkface.
I would have been awake anyway listening to him feed the baby, and since I was already awake, I wouldn't be able to fall back asleep until he was gone. So it really didn't change much for me. Other than ticked me off.
I have now taken it out of my head - and onto the interwebz. Now I don't have to be all grudgy about it.
See? This blog is helping my marriage already. Boo-yah.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Trying to be a good housewifey...
I am a stay-at-home mom.
Its weird for me. I love it, I love spending my time focusing on my son. I enjoy watching him grow and change every day. I enjoy cooking. I am my own boss, I decide what I want to do, when I want to do it, with the obvious exception of whenever Pants is telling me what's up. Which he does a lot. That baby can be *quite* the little tyrant. But he is probably the cutest little dictator in the whole world so I guess he gets a pass.
I do not like some parts of it. I don't like that I don't have anything to "challenge" me. Not to toot my own horn, but I think I am a fairly smart cookie, and I don't get to do things that I haven't ever done, I don't get to deal with other adults much. Also, my home is also my workplace, so I get a little trapped feeling sometimes. Especially without my horse. That is a large reason as to why I started writing on this blog, so that I had something that is all mine, that challenges my mind a bit.
Reading all of the "mommy-blogs" online, and being around my incredibly creative sister-in-law, I feel a little, um, deficient in some areas. Creativity is not my strong point, I can't draw anything. TJ has fired me from wrapping Christmas presents because they look "like a truck ran over it". I don't even really try craft projects because I am worried they will be terrible and I will have wasted money on it. Cooking is fun for me, but I am not a baker, because the "pretty" aspect of it. And there is not as much wiggle room, baking is much more precise.
For Pant's first birthday in January, I have decided I want to make him his cake though. And I want it to be cute. I found these little cake pop things online, and decided since I have six months to try to get this shit figured out, I would give it a shot. The website I found say to back a cake from scratch. Eff that noise. They also suggested making my own frosting...ummm...no. I used boxed cake and frosting. Oops.
Then the box mocked me. It must have known I was not a baker with the serious stuff like mixers....
Its weird for me. I love it, I love spending my time focusing on my son. I enjoy watching him grow and change every day. I enjoy cooking. I am my own boss, I decide what I want to do, when I want to do it, with the obvious exception of whenever Pants is telling me what's up. Which he does a lot. That baby can be *quite* the little tyrant. But he is probably the cutest little dictator in the whole world so I guess he gets a pass.
I do not like some parts of it. I don't like that I don't have anything to "challenge" me. Not to toot my own horn, but I think I am a fairly smart cookie, and I don't get to do things that I haven't ever done, I don't get to deal with other adults much. Also, my home is also my workplace, so I get a little trapped feeling sometimes. Especially without my horse. That is a large reason as to why I started writing on this blog, so that I had something that is all mine, that challenges my mind a bit.
Reading all of the "mommy-blogs" online, and being around my incredibly creative sister-in-law, I feel a little, um, deficient in some areas. Creativity is not my strong point, I can't draw anything. TJ has fired me from wrapping Christmas presents because they look "like a truck ran over it". I don't even really try craft projects because I am worried they will be terrible and I will have wasted money on it. Cooking is fun for me, but I am not a baker, because the "pretty" aspect of it. And there is not as much wiggle room, baking is much more precise.
For Pant's first birthday in January, I have decided I want to make him his cake though. And I want it to be cute. I found these little cake pop things online, and decided since I have six months to try to get this shit figured out, I would give it a shot. The website I found say to back a cake from scratch. Eff that noise. They also suggested making my own frosting...ummm...no. I used boxed cake and frosting. Oops.
Then the box mocked me. It must have known I was not a baker with the serious stuff like mixers....
Yep - That says to beat 450 times BY HAND!! What the fuckity fuck? Well, since I wanted to do this right and baking scares me, I was going to follow these instructions to the letter. So I diligently counted four hundred and fucking fifty strokes. I need to bake more often, its a motha- effein work out. TJ was not helpful- he stood behind me shouting out random numbers.
Little does he know, I have been counting for 24 years now. I'm virtually a pro. I won at counting. Sucker.
The cake baked, I crumbled it, balled up 50 little balls, melted some white chocolate, dipped the little balls on sticks in the chocolate and then in sprinkles. And they are kind of ugly....
But damn if they don't taste good. A few more practice runs and I will not totally embarrass myself at Pant's birthday, in front of aforementioned creative genius sister-in-law.
I am slowly becoming domesticated - who-woulda-thunk-it?
Monday, August 6, 2012
Bad Badmintoners
Well, after I titled this post I googled "What do you call someone who plays badminton?"
And the answer is apparently - badminton player.
That is incredibly lame. I am sticking with badmintoner. I think it will catch on.
Anywho, anyone who is paying any sort of attention right now has heard of the big, bad, badminton scandal. Two teams from South Korea, one from China, and one from Indonesia were disqualified from throwing matches during the round robin play, so as to secure an easier path to the medals for them. I was shocked. First, that people played badminton in the Olympics. Second, that someone on that stage would blatantly throw matches. I was amused, watched the video of the Chinese whacking that little birdie into the net, and went on my with my day.
Then, I was watching my DVR'ed coverage of the games, and something happened that prompted me to write this blog. The NBC Badminton Analyst (yup, badminton analyst) was on, and said that when the BWF - that is the Badminton World Federation in case you weren't in the know - decided to institute the round robin format they were told that this would happen.
Oh. Em. Motha. Effeing. Gee.
Hold the phone. I have a whole lot of questions here. There is a need for a BWF? Badmintoners on the whole are big fat cheaters? NBC needs a badminton analyst? What kind of athlete at the OLYMPICS would throw a match?
Lets break this down.
There is a need for a BWF?
Apparently, yes. I visited their website (www.bwfbadminton.org) and it was really interesting...well, as interesting as badminton gets. The sport has been around since the 1860's, and the BWF was established in 1934. They govern all international competition, including the Olympics, and have 173 member countries. They also take a strong stance against betting, etc....and have a "whistle blower" policy. Touche badminton.
Badmintoners on the whole are big fat cheaters?
Yup. This article (http://www.usatoday.com/sports/olympics/london/badminton/story/2012-08-01/London-Olympics-badminton-scandal/56668034/1) states that players throwing matches has become a widespread problem. The BWF denies it, but it happens at almost all the international competitions since this round robin thing has come about. Hmmmmm.
NBC needs a badminton analyst?
I'm going to go ahead and say no, they don't need one. I'm still not even convinced this is an actual job. In fact, I have a list of made up jobs for another post and I just added badminton analyst on it. According to his bio on the NBC website - he is returning to the post from Beijing. I bet he was super excited for a scandal, he got to be on prime-time TV. But he is apparently the bees-knees in the badminton world, so I guess they went to the source. Just call him whatever his actual title is - don't promote him to "badminton analyst" just to make it sound fancier.
What kind of athlete would throw a match at the OLYMPICS?
Lets look at China's Yu Yang. She blogged after his disqualification that she is resigning for the sport after the IOC had "mercilessly shattered our dreams". She also said gave some bogus excuse about being injured and then whined "Do you know the pain that athletes suffer?"
Did I mention that she is reining world champ?
Alright Yu, here's what I think:
Athlete? Thats giving yourself a bit too much credit sister. You don't deserve that title after you decided to purposefully lose. And injured? I looked it up - badminton rackets weigh less than 100 grams. Did carrying that racket around hurt your wrist? Did tapping that little birdie throw out your shoulder? Don't get me wrong, I'm sure they practice hours upon hours, but elementary kids play badminton. I don't remember my playground littered with badminton casualties.
This is really one of the only times that badminton gets to be in the spotlight, and by extension you. You are going for the highest honor in your sport, and you are representing your country. So instead of trying your hardest every second, acting with integrity, and wanting to show the world the talent which got you here, you decide to be a bitch and throw the match. The ref even called you out during the match, fans were booing you, and you continued to phone it in.
And then, when its all said and done, instead of apologizing, you have the gall to act like its the BWF or the Olympics fault for calling out your bitch ass. I'm glad you are retiring, they should have kicked your ass out. I hope your kids google your name one day, after you tell them you were some bad-ass, and they see what a whiny little be-yotch you actually are. Good luck explaining that to them.
You suck.
And the answer is apparently - badminton player.
That is incredibly lame. I am sticking with badmintoner. I think it will catch on.
Anywho, anyone who is paying any sort of attention right now has heard of the big, bad, badminton scandal. Two teams from South Korea, one from China, and one from Indonesia were disqualified from throwing matches during the round robin play, so as to secure an easier path to the medals for them. I was shocked. First, that people played badminton in the Olympics. Second, that someone on that stage would blatantly throw matches. I was amused, watched the video of the Chinese whacking that little birdie into the net, and went on my with my day.
Then, I was watching my DVR'ed coverage of the games, and something happened that prompted me to write this blog. The NBC Badminton Analyst (yup, badminton analyst) was on, and said that when the BWF - that is the Badminton World Federation in case you weren't in the know - decided to institute the round robin format they were told that this would happen.
Oh. Em. Motha. Effeing. Gee.
Hold the phone. I have a whole lot of questions here. There is a need for a BWF? Badmintoners on the whole are big fat cheaters? NBC needs a badminton analyst? What kind of athlete at the OLYMPICS would throw a match?
Lets break this down.
There is a need for a BWF?
Apparently, yes. I visited their website (www.bwfbadminton.org) and it was really interesting...well, as interesting as badminton gets. The sport has been around since the 1860's, and the BWF was established in 1934. They govern all international competition, including the Olympics, and have 173 member countries. They also take a strong stance against betting, etc....and have a "whistle blower" policy. Touche badminton.
Badmintoners on the whole are big fat cheaters?
Yup. This article (http://www.usatoday.com/sports/olympics/london/badminton/story/2012-08-01/London-Olympics-badminton-scandal/56668034/1) states that players throwing matches has become a widespread problem. The BWF denies it, but it happens at almost all the international competitions since this round robin thing has come about. Hmmmmm.
NBC needs a badminton analyst?
I'm going to go ahead and say no, they don't need one. I'm still not even convinced this is an actual job. In fact, I have a list of made up jobs for another post and I just added badminton analyst on it. According to his bio on the NBC website - he is returning to the post from Beijing. I bet he was super excited for a scandal, he got to be on prime-time TV. But he is apparently the bees-knees in the badminton world, so I guess they went to the source. Just call him whatever his actual title is - don't promote him to "badminton analyst" just to make it sound fancier.
What kind of athlete would throw a match at the OLYMPICS?
Lets look at China's Yu Yang. She blogged after his disqualification that she is resigning for the sport after the IOC had "mercilessly shattered our dreams". She also said gave some bogus excuse about being injured and then whined "Do you know the pain that athletes suffer?"
Did I mention that she is reining world champ?
Alright Yu, here's what I think:
Athlete? Thats giving yourself a bit too much credit sister. You don't deserve that title after you decided to purposefully lose. And injured? I looked it up - badminton rackets weigh less than 100 grams. Did carrying that racket around hurt your wrist? Did tapping that little birdie throw out your shoulder? Don't get me wrong, I'm sure they practice hours upon hours, but elementary kids play badminton. I don't remember my playground littered with badminton casualties.
This is really one of the only times that badminton gets to be in the spotlight, and by extension you. You are going for the highest honor in your sport, and you are representing your country. So instead of trying your hardest every second, acting with integrity, and wanting to show the world the talent which got you here, you decide to be a bitch and throw the match. The ref even called you out during the match, fans were booing you, and you continued to phone it in.
And then, when its all said and done, instead of apologizing, you have the gall to act like its the BWF or the Olympics fault for calling out your bitch ass. I'm glad you are retiring, they should have kicked your ass out. I hope your kids google your name one day, after you tell them you were some bad-ass, and they see what a whiny little be-yotch you actually are. Good luck explaining that to them.
You suck.
Wednesday, August 1, 2012
Pants and slow-learnin'
The Pants child has been pulling up on things for a couple weeks now. I have got to say, this is one of the most stressful times for me. He is terrible at it. He is like a little jenga tower, he won't be up long, and it doesn't take much to knock him over.
The problem is that he has a skewed view of his talent here. He thinks he is the most bad-ass stander-upper anywhere. He uses walls, doors, the piano bench, end tables, baby gate, his baby swing, dining room chairs, the changing table, his crib, the oven, laundry baskets, you name it, he pulls up on it. Once he gets up, there is no good way to get down. Its either a bonk, or I have to help him. I try to help him bend his little legs to show him how to get down...but Pants is not so much with the learnin'. Could be why he used the end table drawer three times in a row, cried everytime it pulled out and he fell over backwards. Sigh.
I think we are going to have to get our pack and play out, and keep him corralled. There is just no way I can be present every single second. I have to pee, I have to eat, I blink. I do believe that he needs to learn his limits, and I don't want to discourage exploring, but I think I need to know that he is safe sometimes when I cannot give him my undivided attention. I haven't been able to poop in 3 days....its crazy. Or shower. I have to wait until TJ gets home to do anything.
I am excited for him to be sturdy on his feet. With the house properly baby-proofed, he will be good to go. I just hope we both make it until then.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
DaDumDaDUMDUMDUM!!
That was the NBC Olympic theme song....you didn't get it?
I love, love, love, love, the summer Olympics. I have DVR'ed every single thing and have something like 55 hours of Olympics to watch...and its only day 5! Oh yeah bitches.
I actually would have already watched a whole lot more of it, but my husband insists that I do not erase anything so he can watch it later. And since I don't love it enough to watch it twice, I just wait for him.
The Olympics kind of make me wish that I had actually decided to not go to college, move to the east coast, get a job as a riding student, and give riding a go. Most days I don't even think of that choice. If I had chosen that life, I would be a nomad - which I am not a fan of. I would have next to no income. I would not have a family. And I probably would have failed. When I look around the home that we own, and look at my son's sweet face, I know that I made the right choice- even if I don't have horses in my life at this moment.
But 17 days every 4 years, I wish I was in whatever exotic location, with the American Flag on my arm, jumping huge jumps on incredible horses for my country. Its just so cool.
I think what I like about the Olympics is that most people can do most of the sports. Anyone can run, jump, swim, shoot a gun or bow and arrow, play basketball. Of course, the level at which these people compete is insane, and 99.9 percent of us can't come close...but its fun. Its fun to imagine yourself on that podium, listening to your anthem playing. It makes me feel all patriotic.
Then there is gymnastics...that shit is nuts. No one can do that. Those people are freaks. I like watching that because it doesnt seem possible. Its amazing. Those people are beasts.
Since I have a DVR now, I am watching much more coverage than I ever have before. I used to only watch swimming, diving, gymnastics and of course, my horses. But I have watched all day every single day this time, and I am amazed at the sports that are included. For example, today I watched fencing, badminton, handball, water polo, and field hockey....really? Are these all necessary? (I should say, that by "watching", for most of these sport it means "watching-five-minutes-and-realizing-its-fucking-boring-and-fast-forwarding-through-the-rest". So I have watched them all at x60 speed.) Most of these sports don't even exist on the intramural level at college, so why the hell are they at the Olympics?
After I wrote that, I realized that what I thought was interesting and what the rest of the world thought was interesting are probably not the same. But I still think handball is fucking stupid. Water polo, too. I stand by those. And badminton. OK, I meant my previous statement. That shit is dumb, and I can't believe that I just fast-forwarded through 10 hours of it.
I am perversely interested in weightlifting though. These tiny people are lifting my fridge over their heads. They lift almost three times their body weight. They all have terrible acne. The announcers say things like "snatch" and "jerk". I can't look away.
I just read through this post and its lame. Sorry. I would not even make the finals of blogging with it. Oops.
I love, love, love, love, the summer Olympics. I have DVR'ed every single thing and have something like 55 hours of Olympics to watch...and its only day 5! Oh yeah bitches.
I actually would have already watched a whole lot more of it, but my husband insists that I do not erase anything so he can watch it later. And since I don't love it enough to watch it twice, I just wait for him.
The Olympics kind of make me wish that I had actually decided to not go to college, move to the east coast, get a job as a riding student, and give riding a go. Most days I don't even think of that choice. If I had chosen that life, I would be a nomad - which I am not a fan of. I would have next to no income. I would not have a family. And I probably would have failed. When I look around the home that we own, and look at my son's sweet face, I know that I made the right choice- even if I don't have horses in my life at this moment.
But 17 days every 4 years, I wish I was in whatever exotic location, with the American Flag on my arm, jumping huge jumps on incredible horses for my country. Its just so cool.
I think what I like about the Olympics is that most people can do most of the sports. Anyone can run, jump, swim, shoot a gun or bow and arrow, play basketball. Of course, the level at which these people compete is insane, and 99.9 percent of us can't come close...but its fun. Its fun to imagine yourself on that podium, listening to your anthem playing. It makes me feel all patriotic.
Then there is gymnastics...that shit is nuts. No one can do that. Those people are freaks. I like watching that because it doesnt seem possible. Its amazing. Those people are beasts.
Since I have a DVR now, I am watching much more coverage than I ever have before. I used to only watch swimming, diving, gymnastics and of course, my horses. But I have watched all day every single day this time, and I am amazed at the sports that are included. For example, today I watched fencing, badminton, handball, water polo, and field hockey....really? Are these all necessary? (I should say, that by "watching", for most of these sport it means "watching-five-minutes-and-realizing-its-fucking-boring-and-fast-forwarding-through-the-rest". So I have watched them all at x60 speed.) Most of these sports don't even exist on the intramural level at college, so why the hell are they at the Olympics?
After I wrote that, I realized that what I thought was interesting and what the rest of the world thought was interesting are probably not the same. But I still think handball is fucking stupid. Water polo, too. I stand by those. And badminton. OK, I meant my previous statement. That shit is dumb, and I can't believe that I just fast-forwarded through 10 hours of it.
I am perversely interested in weightlifting though. These tiny people are lifting my fridge over their heads. They lift almost three times their body weight. They all have terrible acne. The announcers say things like "snatch" and "jerk". I can't look away.
I just read through this post and its lame. Sorry. I would not even make the finals of blogging with it. Oops.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Its MY relationship....
My husband is one of 4 children. He has an older sister and two younger brothers. TJ's brother, Sean, is just a couple years younger than him. Sean and my friend, Ann, have always had a flirtation, and have hooked up on occasion. We never thought anything would really come of it, they are more than 4 years apart, Sean really liked hooking up with anything that walked, Ann wants to get married and have babies...like yesterday.
A few months ago, Ann and Sean decided to give it a go. They have been dating for almost 8 months, and now live together. I am happy they are happy - BUT -
QUIT FUCKING COMPARING MY RELATIONSHIP TO YOURS!
Yes, I am yelling.
I know that we are all incredibly close. Ann and I have been best friends going on 15 years now. Outside of my husband and baby, there is not a person I know better or care about more than her. We are absolute staples in each others lives. TJ and Sean enjoy almost all of the same things, and I have to ask TJ not to make plans with Sean every single day on the weekends. Because, you know, his wife and son may want to spend some time with him.
That said, Sean and I would never have worked out. We are both waaayyyy too stubborn. He has incredibly traditional views on how a relationship should work, which immediately makes me turn all "I am woman, hear me roar". (I am stong, STRONG, I am invincible, INVINCIBLE, I am woman...oooooooooo). TJ and Ann also do not see eye-to-eye. They both are big worries, and very particular. Neither one of them is gifted at getting over their own stuff for the benefit of others. Which is pretty funny because they both think they are great at it.
We all know all of this about each other. Still, for some crazy reason, every tiny thing that TJ and I do, I have to hear about "why isnt that happening with us?". "He didn't call me....TJ called you?" "When you fight does TJ <insert whatever odd thing Sean did here>. And whenever I get my answers to these questions, Ann quickly says to Sean, "Well, Gentry and TJ do this!" and then they fight about why its not going to work.
Ann (not your real name) I hope one day, you read this. And I hope you go "Hmmm, Ann, thats my middle name. Sean is his middle name. I bet she is talking about us. Damn. SEAN, GET IN HERE, GENTRY WROTE ABOUT US ON A BLOG!" Good - now that I have you both here -
QUIT FUCKING COMPARING MY RELATIONSHIP TO YOURS!!
Yup, it was so important I yelled it twice.
Look, TJ and I have a 7 year head start on you guys, we are married, we have a kid. We have been through cross country moves, family deaths, weddings, and almost a decades worth of holidays and memories. We have a system together that works so well, we bicker like nobody's business, but we hardly ever fight. And we all know what works for us, and our temperaments would never, ever be what works for you guys. So I don't want to hear a comparison every time any teeny thing happens. There is no comparison - they are two completely separate entities that have no effect on each other what so ever.
I say this because I love you, and I don't want to have to kick you both in the shins.
*Edited to add* P.S- For the last 6 months, the baby has gone to bed at 7:30. This has happened every time you come to visit, when I come visit you, whenever we talk, etc. So when you ONLY call at 7:30 - you can't get mad that I don't *ever* talk to you. Just sayin'. .
A few months ago, Ann and Sean decided to give it a go. They have been dating for almost 8 months, and now live together. I am happy they are happy - BUT -
QUIT FUCKING COMPARING MY RELATIONSHIP TO YOURS!
Yes, I am yelling.
I know that we are all incredibly close. Ann and I have been best friends going on 15 years now. Outside of my husband and baby, there is not a person I know better or care about more than her. We are absolute staples in each others lives. TJ and Sean enjoy almost all of the same things, and I have to ask TJ not to make plans with Sean every single day on the weekends. Because, you know, his wife and son may want to spend some time with him.
That said, Sean and I would never have worked out. We are both waaayyyy too stubborn. He has incredibly traditional views on how a relationship should work, which immediately makes me turn all "I am woman, hear me roar". (I am stong, STRONG, I am invincible, INVINCIBLE, I am woman...oooooooooo). TJ and Ann also do not see eye-to-eye. They both are big worries, and very particular. Neither one of them is gifted at getting over their own stuff for the benefit of others. Which is pretty funny because they both think they are great at it.
We all know all of this about each other. Still, for some crazy reason, every tiny thing that TJ and I do, I have to hear about "why isnt that happening with us?". "He didn't call me....TJ called you?" "When you fight does TJ <insert whatever odd thing Sean did here>. And whenever I get my answers to these questions, Ann quickly says to Sean, "Well, Gentry and TJ do this!" and then they fight about why its not going to work.
Ann (not your real name) I hope one day, you read this. And I hope you go "Hmmm, Ann, thats my middle name. Sean is his middle name. I bet she is talking about us. Damn. SEAN, GET IN HERE, GENTRY WROTE ABOUT US ON A BLOG!" Good - now that I have you both here -
QUIT FUCKING COMPARING MY RELATIONSHIP TO YOURS!!
Yup, it was so important I yelled it twice.
Look, TJ and I have a 7 year head start on you guys, we are married, we have a kid. We have been through cross country moves, family deaths, weddings, and almost a decades worth of holidays and memories. We have a system together that works so well, we bicker like nobody's business, but we hardly ever fight. And we all know what works for us, and our temperaments would never, ever be what works for you guys. So I don't want to hear a comparison every time any teeny thing happens. There is no comparison - they are two completely separate entities that have no effect on each other what so ever.
I say this because I love you, and I don't want to have to kick you both in the shins.
*Edited to add* P.S- For the last 6 months, the baby has gone to bed at 7:30. This has happened every time you come to visit, when I come visit you, whenever we talk, etc. So when you ONLY call at 7:30 - you can't get mad that I don't *ever* talk to you. Just sayin'. .
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Stupid
My husband is an odd duck.
He is an engineer. This means (at least to me) that he is brilliant, cerebral, and driven. It also means that he is a big fat nerd.
We lived in New Jersey for a couple years after we were first married. Right across the river from Philadelphia. We hated it. It was neat to be able to go to New York, DC, Philly, Atlantic City at the drop of a hat. But we HATED the traffic, mean people, and expense. Anyway, the point of this tangent was to say that one time we were driving through downtown Philly - and we passed a skyscraper. TJ estimated the number of floors, height and width of windows, and then told me the square footage of glass that was used to make that building. And then he told me "fascinating" facts about glass and construction.
In college, he had to do a senior project where 4 or 5 students worked with a real company. At the end of the semester, he had the guys over in the garage for a "party." Now, in my normal, college experience - I would get off work to find loud music, people all over, a keg, and at least one sloppy guy falling all over some poor girl.
I come home to find the 5 guys who had worked on the project together sitting on the futon, with a beer, and just talking. They were not even playing ping pong. I stopped in to say hi - and listened to jokes about math equations, professors, etc. It was immediately apparent that I could not participate in the conversation, and headed in the house. When TJ had come in to use the bathroom once, I asked him why the guys had not invited their friends. He said he had told them to - and this was all that showed up. Sad.
He believes that salt gets a bad rap. And backs it up with studies and citations.
I am a firm believer that is the reason TJ and I are together. He is much hotter than I am - so I had to get him weird. It evens us out.
One of the things that drives me bonkers - is when he decides that he hates something, he immediately goes on the attack. During the day, when I am home with the wee-Pants-one, I watch some pretty crappy T.V. Lately I have been watching Greys Anatomy from the beginning. TJ was at headquarters for something today, and popped by on the way home.
This is our conversation as he ate lunch -
TJ - "God, this show is so stupid."
Me -"OK"
TJ - "Really, really stupid."
Me - "OK"
TJ - "Who is that?"
Me-"That is the pregnant womans husband. He got in a car crash on the way to the hospital."
TJ - "Stupid."
Me- "OK"
TJ - "What are they doing?"
Me - "Having sex."
TJ - "Stupid"
He continued to question every scene while he rinsed his dish, and headed for the door. Then he stood, in the doorway, with the door wide opened, and watched the last ten minutes of the show. The whole time telling me how stupid it was. OK, babe. OK. Part of me wants to wait until he gets home tomorrow to start it, see what happens. My guess is he would watch two episodes back to back, bitching the whole time. Stupid.
Totally off-topic. You know how when you spell something too many times, it starts to look wrong? Thats how stupid is looking to me now. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.
He is an engineer. This means (at least to me) that he is brilliant, cerebral, and driven. It also means that he is a big fat nerd.
We lived in New Jersey for a couple years after we were first married. Right across the river from Philadelphia. We hated it. It was neat to be able to go to New York, DC, Philly, Atlantic City at the drop of a hat. But we HATED the traffic, mean people, and expense. Anyway, the point of this tangent was to say that one time we were driving through downtown Philly - and we passed a skyscraper. TJ estimated the number of floors, height and width of windows, and then told me the square footage of glass that was used to make that building. And then he told me "fascinating" facts about glass and construction.
In college, he had to do a senior project where 4 or 5 students worked with a real company. At the end of the semester, he had the guys over in the garage for a "party." Now, in my normal, college experience - I would get off work to find loud music, people all over, a keg, and at least one sloppy guy falling all over some poor girl.
I come home to find the 5 guys who had worked on the project together sitting on the futon, with a beer, and just talking. They were not even playing ping pong. I stopped in to say hi - and listened to jokes about math equations, professors, etc. It was immediately apparent that I could not participate in the conversation, and headed in the house. When TJ had come in to use the bathroom once, I asked him why the guys had not invited their friends. He said he had told them to - and this was all that showed up. Sad.
He believes that salt gets a bad rap. And backs it up with studies and citations.
I am a firm believer that is the reason TJ and I are together. He is much hotter than I am - so I had to get him weird. It evens us out.
One of the things that drives me bonkers - is when he decides that he hates something, he immediately goes on the attack. During the day, when I am home with the wee-Pants-one, I watch some pretty crappy T.V. Lately I have been watching Greys Anatomy from the beginning. TJ was at headquarters for something today, and popped by on the way home.
This is our conversation as he ate lunch -
TJ - "God, this show is so stupid."
Me -"OK"
TJ - "Really, really stupid."
Me - "OK"
TJ - "Who is that?"
Me-"That is the pregnant womans husband. He got in a car crash on the way to the hospital."
TJ - "Stupid."
Me- "OK"
TJ - "What are they doing?"
Me - "Having sex."
TJ - "Stupid"
He continued to question every scene while he rinsed his dish, and headed for the door. Then he stood, in the doorway, with the door wide opened, and watched the last ten minutes of the show. The whole time telling me how stupid it was. OK, babe. OK. Part of me wants to wait until he gets home tomorrow to start it, see what happens. My guess is he would watch two episodes back to back, bitching the whole time. Stupid.
Totally off-topic. You know how when you spell something too many times, it starts to look wrong? Thats how stupid is looking to me now. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Car Seat Conundrum
Our itty-bitty Pants baby (my god, I will embarrass the shit out of him when he gets old. It shall be awesome) is not so itty-bitty anymore.
In the last 3 weeks that monster is crawling, sitting up on his own, and now is pulling up on things. I keep expecting him to stroll into the room and ask me for the car keys - cause he has a hot bitch waiting for him to take her to the Red Lobster. Its terrifying.
As he is now practically living on his own, he is getting too big for his little carrier car seat. He can also sit up on his own now, so he can sit up on carts and stuff at the store, so the little carrier isn't as necessary. So we decided to make the huge leap to convertible car seat ownership.
Is it too late to return the child? Nothing is worth this pain in the ass.
We have two vehicles. He have a 2001 Ford Explorer Sport Trac and a 2009 Toyota Yaris.
Since I am a stay at home mom, I consider it part of my duties to make sure that our dollars go the furthest they possibly can. So I immediately went to my favorite place. Sams Club. Hell to the yeah. Sams Club has single-handedly cut our formula and diaper bill in half. So I got the only car seat they had available. It was 100 dollars - but it functions all the way up to 100 pounds as a booster. (The fact that we now expect our children to be in a car seat until 13 or 100 pounds is a whole 'nother story. I mean, I'm all for safety - but my sister is STILL not 100 pounds and she is 22.) So I bought it and headed home.
TJ and I installed it that night after Pants went to sleep. First of all, its been over 100 here for 19 straight days, with no end in sight. It rarely gets under 85 at night. Its terrible. Thinking this would be as easy-peasy as the carrier, we just headed outside. After 15 minutes of searching and still not finding where the hell the seat belt threads through, we gave up and stomped inside to read the manual. I consider this a big step for TJ. I think reading the instructions was a physically painful experience.
We read the manual front and back. I can't imagine how we didn't find the tiny little hole that threads UNDER the cover, so that you have to practically take apart the whole damn seat just to install it. After a struggle where I was perched in the seat while TJ yanked on the strap we finally got it tight enough. Dum, dum, dum - the level dealio on the side said it was not reclined enough. So we shoved THREE towels under the front end of the freaking thing and then repeat the sitting/yanking process and its in.
As we had a beer to celebrate our hard-fought victory, TJ said to me - if you think I am switching that thing from car to car - you are fucking crazy.
So Sams Club gets 100 extra dollars.
Two nights later - we are prepared for battle in my car. Thinking we are way ahead of the curve having done this once already - we even decide to give it a go while Pants is awake.
Since the Yaris is newer- it has the fancy latch system that is supposed to make everything a breeze. We could not get it tight enough no matter what. So we used the belt. Still not tight enough. We moved it to a side - where it makes it so you have to hump the dash if you are in front of the seat. And them the belts pull weird and Pants would be riding on his left side. We finally admitted defeat.
I returned the stupid thing to Sam's where they would only give me a gift card. Ugh. I mean, I know Ill use it - I just could use that money towards the other seat I have to buy.
Google informed me that ONLY TWO car seats in ALL of EXISTENCE fit in the Yaris. And of course one is 300 dollars. I read up on the 160 dollar one and it seems like people like it. And I will be DAMNED if I spend 300 dollars on a car seat. The only kicker is neither seat functions as a booster - so I will have to buy yet ANOTHER sear when that time comes. Le sigh. Whatever.
Amazon was out of stock. Target had only a pink one. I didn't think Pants would appreciate that. He already has these stunning eyelashes and people call him "she". I don't need to add to the complex for the poor kid. Wal-Mart was a success! And I got a gender neutral one until I remembered he would be in the damn thing way to long for a younger sibling to use it and we would have to buy two more whenever we have another baby. What - fucking - ever. Wal-Mart only had it online - but would ship it site-to-store for no charge. Fine. When can I pick it up?
3 weeks. Oh. Em. Motha. Effeing. Gee.
I think he can just roll around in the back there right? I mean we all did and we survived!
I hope I'm not pregnant - I don't think I can handle having to be a family with FOUR different car seats for TWO kids. Not including infant seats and boosters. Plus, by the time I have another, the guidelines will be in a booster until 6 foot tall and and 185 pounds. My seats will have "expired" and I will have to start all over.
What a racket.
In the last 3 weeks that monster is crawling, sitting up on his own, and now is pulling up on things. I keep expecting him to stroll into the room and ask me for the car keys - cause he has a hot bitch waiting for him to take her to the Red Lobster. Its terrifying.
As he is now practically living on his own, he is getting too big for his little carrier car seat. He can also sit up on his own now, so he can sit up on carts and stuff at the store, so the little carrier isn't as necessary. So we decided to make the huge leap to convertible car seat ownership.
Is it too late to return the child? Nothing is worth this pain in the ass.
We have two vehicles. He have a 2001 Ford Explorer Sport Trac and a 2009 Toyota Yaris.
Since I am a stay at home mom, I consider it part of my duties to make sure that our dollars go the furthest they possibly can. So I immediately went to my favorite place. Sams Club. Hell to the yeah. Sams Club has single-handedly cut our formula and diaper bill in half. So I got the only car seat they had available. It was 100 dollars - but it functions all the way up to 100 pounds as a booster. (The fact that we now expect our children to be in a car seat until 13 or 100 pounds is a whole 'nother story. I mean, I'm all for safety - but my sister is STILL not 100 pounds and she is 22.) So I bought it and headed home.
TJ and I installed it that night after Pants went to sleep. First of all, its been over 100 here for 19 straight days, with no end in sight. It rarely gets under 85 at night. Its terrible. Thinking this would be as easy-peasy as the carrier, we just headed outside. After 15 minutes of searching and still not finding where the hell the seat belt threads through, we gave up and stomped inside to read the manual. I consider this a big step for TJ. I think reading the instructions was a physically painful experience.
We read the manual front and back. I can't imagine how we didn't find the tiny little hole that threads UNDER the cover, so that you have to practically take apart the whole damn seat just to install it. After a struggle where I was perched in the seat while TJ yanked on the strap we finally got it tight enough. Dum, dum, dum - the level dealio on the side said it was not reclined enough. So we shoved THREE towels under the front end of the freaking thing and then repeat the sitting/yanking process and its in.
As we had a beer to celebrate our hard-fought victory, TJ said to me - if you think I am switching that thing from car to car - you are fucking crazy.
So Sams Club gets 100 extra dollars.
Two nights later - we are prepared for battle in my car. Thinking we are way ahead of the curve having done this once already - we even decide to give it a go while Pants is awake.
Since the Yaris is newer- it has the fancy latch system that is supposed to make everything a breeze. We could not get it tight enough no matter what. So we used the belt. Still not tight enough. We moved it to a side - where it makes it so you have to hump the dash if you are in front of the seat. And them the belts pull weird and Pants would be riding on his left side. We finally admitted defeat.
I returned the stupid thing to Sam's where they would only give me a gift card. Ugh. I mean, I know Ill use it - I just could use that money towards the other seat I have to buy.
Google informed me that ONLY TWO car seats in ALL of EXISTENCE fit in the Yaris. And of course one is 300 dollars. I read up on the 160 dollar one and it seems like people like it. And I will be DAMNED if I spend 300 dollars on a car seat. The only kicker is neither seat functions as a booster - so I will have to buy yet ANOTHER sear when that time comes. Le sigh. Whatever.
Amazon was out of stock. Target had only a pink one. I didn't think Pants would appreciate that. He already has these stunning eyelashes and people call him "she". I don't need to add to the complex for the poor kid. Wal-Mart was a success! And I got a gender neutral one until I remembered he would be in the damn thing way to long for a younger sibling to use it and we would have to buy two more whenever we have another baby. What - fucking - ever. Wal-Mart only had it online - but would ship it site-to-store for no charge. Fine. When can I pick it up?
3 weeks. Oh. Em. Motha. Effeing. Gee.
I think he can just roll around in the back there right? I mean we all did and we survived!
I hope I'm not pregnant - I don't think I can handle having to be a family with FOUR different car seats for TWO kids. Not including infant seats and boosters. Plus, by the time I have another, the guidelines will be in a booster until 6 foot tall and and 185 pounds. My seats will have "expired" and I will have to start all over.
What a racket.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
I must be nuts...
Seriously - bona fide insane. Nuthouse certifiable.
Did I mention that Pants is 5 1/2 months old? He is. He was born at the end of January. He is pretty much a brand spanking new person.
And last night - we sent in the solider with no helmet on. Did you understand that euphemism? Ok, we sent the dude out in the rain with no raincoat. Still not following me?
We had unprotected sex. Yup. Say it - I'm crazy right.
See, we have always wanted two kids. Well, that is so not true. I didn't want children at all. But TJ did, and so we made a deal. We agreed that we would not try not to have kids, as long as we didn't actively try to. My mother had a hard time conceiving her children. She had two, and never was able to get pregnant without some kind of outside intervention. I was secretly hoping that I had some sort of issue from her.
For a while, I thought I did. It took us about 8 months of not trying - trying to become with child. And we had always said we would have zero or two. We didn't want an only child - and we didn't want to be outnumbered. So two it was.
However, I HATED pregnancy. Not even exaggerating. I also don't hate a lot of things. I believe hate is a wasted emotion. That if you hate something you are so much better off just cutting it out of your life. Hate is a strong emotion, and requires a lot of time, energy and head space. My theory is if you dislike something- don't give it that power. Just get rid of it.
That is not possible when you are pregnant. Its part of you, in every sense of the word. The only cure is delivery - which for a first timer is so scary. I don't think I had a hard pregnancy, at least compared to other horror stories I have heard. But it wasn't a cake walk either. I was a constant, low level nauseous the first 3-4 months. Smells would send me running to the bathroom to get rid of what little food I had been able to choke down. I worked on my feet, full time, so the swelling was out of control. We had to come up with a new term for my legs - I didn't have cankles - I had kanankles. It was one solid mass from knee down. I developed gestational diabetes and was on a diet the last 3 months of my pregnancy. I was meaner than a snake, and I cried at the drop of a hat.
Back to the point. Now that we have one baby, I was not sure that I wanted another. That was shot down quickly. Dammit.
We have both decided that we want to be done before we turn 31. So we have 3 years to get pregnant again. Now the decision is just when to have one.
The pros of getting knocked up right away:
1. Pants would be so young that he would never know any different. Chances are the kids will be best friends ( we are hoping for another boy) The jealousy would hopefully be low to non-existent.
2. We would be done will all of the annoying baby stuff earlier. Diapers, formula, baby purees, no sleep, all of it.
3. They would be close in school. Would be able to do sports together. All sorts of fun things.
The cons of getting preggo -
1. I hate being preggo.
2. What if I have a girl?
3. I love that right now I am able to give Pants all the attention he could ever want. I am loving our little family dynamic.
4. Pants may be old enough to understand whats going on and be helpful with a new baby.
Ugh. We basically decided to leave it up to fate. It took us a while last time, so what if it does this time? We are going to leave it up to biology, god, Dumbledore - or whatever it is that makes the universe tick.
Knowing my luck - I'm pregnant.
Son of a bitch.
I must be nuts.
Did I mention that Pants is 5 1/2 months old? He is. He was born at the end of January. He is pretty much a brand spanking new person.
And last night - we sent in the solider with no helmet on. Did you understand that euphemism? Ok, we sent the dude out in the rain with no raincoat. Still not following me?
We had unprotected sex. Yup. Say it - I'm crazy right.
See, we have always wanted two kids. Well, that is so not true. I didn't want children at all. But TJ did, and so we made a deal. We agreed that we would not try not to have kids, as long as we didn't actively try to. My mother had a hard time conceiving her children. She had two, and never was able to get pregnant without some kind of outside intervention. I was secretly hoping that I had some sort of issue from her.
For a while, I thought I did. It took us about 8 months of not trying - trying to become with child. And we had always said we would have zero or two. We didn't want an only child - and we didn't want to be outnumbered. So two it was.
However, I HATED pregnancy. Not even exaggerating. I also don't hate a lot of things. I believe hate is a wasted emotion. That if you hate something you are so much better off just cutting it out of your life. Hate is a strong emotion, and requires a lot of time, energy and head space. My theory is if you dislike something- don't give it that power. Just get rid of it.
That is not possible when you are pregnant. Its part of you, in every sense of the word. The only cure is delivery - which for a first timer is so scary. I don't think I had a hard pregnancy, at least compared to other horror stories I have heard. But it wasn't a cake walk either. I was a constant, low level nauseous the first 3-4 months. Smells would send me running to the bathroom to get rid of what little food I had been able to choke down. I worked on my feet, full time, so the swelling was out of control. We had to come up with a new term for my legs - I didn't have cankles - I had kanankles. It was one solid mass from knee down. I developed gestational diabetes and was on a diet the last 3 months of my pregnancy. I was meaner than a snake, and I cried at the drop of a hat.
Back to the point. Now that we have one baby, I was not sure that I wanted another. That was shot down quickly. Dammit.
We have both decided that we want to be done before we turn 31. So we have 3 years to get pregnant again. Now the decision is just when to have one.
The pros of getting knocked up right away:
1. Pants would be so young that he would never know any different. Chances are the kids will be best friends ( we are hoping for another boy) The jealousy would hopefully be low to non-existent.
2. We would be done will all of the annoying baby stuff earlier. Diapers, formula, baby purees, no sleep, all of it.
3. They would be close in school. Would be able to do sports together. All sorts of fun things.
The cons of getting preggo -
1. I hate being preggo.
2. What if I have a girl?
3. I love that right now I am able to give Pants all the attention he could ever want. I am loving our little family dynamic.
4. Pants may be old enough to understand whats going on and be helpful with a new baby.
Ugh. We basically decided to leave it up to fate. It took us a while last time, so what if it does this time? We are going to leave it up to biology, god, Dumbledore - or whatever it is that makes the universe tick.
Knowing my luck - I'm pregnant.
Son of a bitch.
I must be nuts.
Saturday, July 7, 2012
Am I as funny as I think I am?
I have always toyed with the idea of a blog.
Truthfully, I have always toyed with the idea of a journal. I always loved looking all my handwriting in neat rows. But getting the discipline to write consistently was the challenge. Plus, when I looked back on what I wrote - I sounded like a whiny little beoytch.
I am now older, wiser, infinitely more clever and cynical. Plus I am a stay at home mom - so what else do I have to be doing, ammairite? Plus, I type much quicker than I write.
I also am still deciding if I will actually use my name and such on this. See, I want to be able to bitch about people without the fear that they will read about it the next day. I think I will be much more fun that way, more uninhibited, like I am always writing after a big gulp margarita. But I don't want to be a puss about it - and I don't think that I would ever say anything that isn't honest - and I try not to be a mean person as a whole.
And its not like anyone else will ever actually read this. So its probably a moo point. You know - moo - like a cows' opinion.
I'm kidding. I am not an idiot. I am a child of the 80's. I listened to Jessie's Girl enough to know that the term is moot point. I just watch a lot of Friends re-runs.
I am going to operate on the slightly embarrassing possibility that someone is actually reading this and I will introduce myself. My name is Gentry. I am 27. I am married to a wonderful guy I shall call TJ. Its not a clever nickname. I just made it up now - I don't work well under pressure. We have a baby boy - who I will call Pants. Its short for Cranky Pants. Pants is not cranky all the time - so Pants it is.
We all live in Kansas, which we really love. It takes its seasons seriously - whatever one it is it commits. For instance, right now its 100 goddamn degrees outside and its 10 at night. Weee. But the people are wonderful, and this is where our families live.
We have two dachshunds - Bean and Delano. They are pretty funny - especially Delano. He is probably the stupidest dog in the whole world - but as ignorance is bliss - he could not be happier about it. Bean is everything a dog should be - she is fiercely loyal, stands vigil when TJ heads out of town - and lets Pants grab hunks of doxie skin. Delano hides under the bed when anything out of the ordinary happens. He doesn't deal with change well. But then - who does?
I love, love, love horses - but as i am a stay-at-home madre - recently made the heart-wrenching decision to sell my horse. I was not able to ride enough to justify the expense, and a really good young horse was sitting and going to waste. TJ swears to me that one day we will have land and horses again. I have taped him saying this on my i-pod - so that he will not be surprised when in a few years when I want to purchase the ponies again. Or when he doesn't let me have horses - he wont be shocked when I leave his ass. Kidding. Sort of.
Welp - I believe those are the basics. I am going to try to stay committed to posting on a regular basis, for me. And hopefully one day someone will like to read it. Crazier things have happened.
Truthfully, I have always toyed with the idea of a journal. I always loved looking all my handwriting in neat rows. But getting the discipline to write consistently was the challenge. Plus, when I looked back on what I wrote - I sounded like a whiny little beoytch.
I am now older, wiser, infinitely more clever and cynical. Plus I am a stay at home mom - so what else do I have to be doing, ammairite? Plus, I type much quicker than I write.
I also am still deciding if I will actually use my name and such on this. See, I want to be able to bitch about people without the fear that they will read about it the next day. I think I will be much more fun that way, more uninhibited, like I am always writing after a big gulp margarita. But I don't want to be a puss about it - and I don't think that I would ever say anything that isn't honest - and I try not to be a mean person as a whole.
And its not like anyone else will ever actually read this. So its probably a moo point. You know - moo - like a cows' opinion.
I'm kidding. I am not an idiot. I am a child of the 80's. I listened to Jessie's Girl enough to know that the term is moot point. I just watch a lot of Friends re-runs.
I am going to operate on the slightly embarrassing possibility that someone is actually reading this and I will introduce myself. My name is Gentry. I am 27. I am married to a wonderful guy I shall call TJ. Its not a clever nickname. I just made it up now - I don't work well under pressure. We have a baby boy - who I will call Pants. Its short for Cranky Pants. Pants is not cranky all the time - so Pants it is.
We all live in Kansas, which we really love. It takes its seasons seriously - whatever one it is it commits. For instance, right now its 100 goddamn degrees outside and its 10 at night. Weee. But the people are wonderful, and this is where our families live.
We have two dachshunds - Bean and Delano. They are pretty funny - especially Delano. He is probably the stupidest dog in the whole world - but as ignorance is bliss - he could not be happier about it. Bean is everything a dog should be - she is fiercely loyal, stands vigil when TJ heads out of town - and lets Pants grab hunks of doxie skin. Delano hides under the bed when anything out of the ordinary happens. He doesn't deal with change well. But then - who does?
I love, love, love horses - but as i am a stay-at-home madre - recently made the heart-wrenching decision to sell my horse. I was not able to ride enough to justify the expense, and a really good young horse was sitting and going to waste. TJ swears to me that one day we will have land and horses again. I have taped him saying this on my i-pod - so that he will not be surprised when in a few years when I want to purchase the ponies again. Or when he doesn't let me have horses - he wont be shocked when I leave his ass. Kidding. Sort of.
Welp - I believe those are the basics. I am going to try to stay committed to posting on a regular basis, for me. And hopefully one day someone will like to read it. Crazier things have happened.
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