I’m HOT without makeup… in my dreams

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The look on my daughters face leads me to believe that she is SICK AND TIRED of me kissing on her every minute that she’s awake. She is like “listen, lady, at least BRUSH YOUR TEETH before you get all up in my grill like that!” And she would have a point. I really should be more considerate and hygienic.
Too bad for her, I will NOT EVER stop kissing her. But, I will try to make a point to brush my teeth first.
I love that I can lounge around WITH MY DAUGHTER, no make up on while wearing  old tshirt full of tittymilk puke and  feel THIS HAPPY and THIS COMPLETE and THIS FULL OF JOY.
Now, if someone knocked on my door right now, it’d be a different story. I’d go into full panic mode.
“I can’t answer the door! I stink! I don’t have make up on! My TEETH HAVE NOT BEEN BRUSHED! GO AWAY OR I WILL SLAY YOU WITH THE ODOR OF MY UNSHAVEN PITS!”
Who cares about stupid people who come over without calling first, though. All I care about are these beautiful children God blessed me with that I get to love all day long, even if I am  in desperate need of a shower and a good cleaning of the teeth.

But he’s TOTALLY MEXICAN!

You might be a Redneck..

IF YOU USE YOUR SON’S SHOE AS A PLACE TO SET YOUR BEER WHILE YOU TAKE A SNOOZE ON THE COUCH. And THEN, when confronted by your wife, you act like it’s TOTALLY NORMAL THAT YOU USED YOUR SONS SHOE AS A PLACE TO HOLD YOUR BEER WHILE YOU SNOOZE ON THE COUCH.

funny girl


Gabby’s personality has started to surface recently. Gone are the days of her sleeping all day, and starting at me blankly in the brief moments when she was awake. Now, she’s awake most of the day, full of smiles, kicks, squeels and jibber jabber.
She has the most beautiful smile. Last night I was trying to capture that smile on film. Of course, once I brought the camera out, she stopped giggling and became very interested in the camera. She was starting at it, studying intently, when all of a sudden… SHE WENT CROSS EYED. Luckily, as you can see above, I was able to capture the moment. I think it’s one of my favorite pictures of her. Hilarious.
Have I mentioned how much I LOVE THAT SWEET GIRL??!

Love me.

I wasn’t going to say anything. I was trying to be modest. But I can’t take it, I have to tell EVERYONE!
Did you know that this week is a very special week? DID YOU? Well it is, because, well, it’s…
I
Love
y
Week
And FOUR PEOPLE LOVE ME!
Wait, I mean FIVE PEOPLE LOVE ME!
It’s totally wrong that *I* bring attention to the fact that it’s “I love y” week, but I’ve never had a whole week dedicated to people loving ME before!!
ME!
I think I’m having the Best Week Ever!
Now that I got that out of the way…
What would you say to a neighbor who stops to talk to you while you’re outside and who tells you “We’re not together anymore, I caught her doing ‘The Train’ with two other guys!”??
Would you say?
A. “Choo choo”?
B. “That slut!?”
C “Was she in the middle?”
D “What’s The Train?”
Seriously. What would you say? Because I didn’t know WHAT TO SAY. Too much information there, buddy. A simple, “She was cheating on me” would have done. Or how about NOT SAYING ANYTHING AT ALL? How about that?
I’m telling you people, the things that happen in this ‘hood? You can’t make this shit up.

I want my baby back IN MY ROOM!

I’m kind of a wreck tonight. You see, I’ve kept Gabby in the bassinett all of this time because I want her right next to me at night. I realise she’s just too big to sleep in there anymore, so tonight, I thought I was strong enough to put her in her crib… turns out I’M NOT. I miss her so badly, I can’t sleep. I keep getting up to check on her, to make sure she’s ok. I hate that I can’t hear her breathing, I hate that I can’t sit up in bed and see her laying right there next to me. I’m scared I won’t hear her when she cries. Infact, I’m so afraid of not being able to hear her, I won’t turn the fan on, and I can’t sleep without the fan on. The ridiculous thing about this? Her room is right next to mine.
It’s only a matter of time before I take my pillow and go sleep on the floor next to her crib.

Not tonight, dear. No, not tomorrow night either. Or the next night. OR the night after that.

Today is my 6 week check up. You know, the one where they make sure everything healed up the way it’s supposed to. You know what that means, don’t you?

It means I have to make “down there” all pretty for the doctor.
You thought I was going to say “it means I can FINALLY HAVE SEX!”, didn’t you? Admit it, you did.
Well, it does mean that too, but guess what?
I am T-E-R-R-I-F-I-E-D to have sex again.
I am being completely serious when I say that. I’m scared.
Not scared of the act of sex, I could never fear the penis, I’m scared that there is a possibility that I COULD END UP PREGNANT AGAIN.
I LOVE my daughter, I’m so happy I have her, but she was not a pregnancy we had planned. Not at 32 years old with two older boys.
And I was SO SURE that the Rhythm Method I had relied on for the past 14 years would WORK FOREVER!!!!!
So, now, every time I think of sex, I think it’s just another opportunity to get knocked up and that’s just NOT GOING TO HAPPEN.
Tony was on the waiting list to get his nards snipped, but our insurance with Kaiser is going to expire at the end of the month, so that’s not going to happen. We have to wait til our new insurance kicks in for him to have that done. We’re talking months here, people.
I feel sorry for Tony, I do, but I would feel more sorry for Tony if he was all “No baby, don’t worry, you won’t get pregnant and I GOT PREGNANT.” He tried sneaking it up on me the other night and I freaked out. “GET THAT THING OFF OF ME, IT STILL IS ACTIVE. IT CAN STILL IMPREGNATE ME! IT’S A WEAPON OF MASS FERTILIZATION!”
Four children is NOT something I want, three is just what I need, and every time I see The Penis, I see baby #4 written all over it.
Maybe I need to talk to someone about this?

Sweet pea


It’s obvious to everyone in our family that Gabby already has her daddy wrapped around her little finger.
Watching him holding her, interacting with her her is one of the highlights of my life right now. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen him this happy and fufilled. When he talks to her and she smiles at him, it takes my breath away. I never thought I’d give him a daughter, I never imagined I’d be sitting on the couch and I’d hear him singing to his “sweet pea”.

She loves her daddy. She’s so comfortable with him. Everyday when he comes home from work, he picks her up and starts talking to her. She smiles and coos and gets so excited she squeels. Ah! It’s the sweetest thing I think I’ve ever seen. Eventually, she’ll get tired and start yawning. Tony will sit her on his lap and gently run his fingers over her hair. She doesn’t even fight it, within minutes, she’s peacefully sleeping on her daddy’s lap.

Last night I told him that I will forever have that image burned in my mind. And as she gets older, I’ll always look at her and remember the time that she would fall asleep on her daddy’s lap and I’ll remember just how beautiful life was.
And I pray it always will be.

Misunderstood?

Rarely do I get upset over comments I get, even if the comments are mean or hurtful, but today I got a comment that really got to me.

Something I said in my last post came off as offensive, and I didn’t mean it that way. I said “Who cares what a fat girl thinks anyway?”
That comment does not reflect how I feel about fat people. That comment is a reflection of how I feel about myself and how I percieve people feel towards me.
The comment mentioned a post that was written a long time ago about fat people. Well, it was feelings as the ones stated in that post that make me say things like that. It’s no secret that there are people out there who look at someone like me and think bad things about me. They look down at me and see me as less of a person because I’m fat. That’s a truth that no one can deny and as strong as I try to be, somedays, I let that get to me. I am sorry, I’m HUMAN.
I won’t lie, I will never be comfortable being fat and I’ve NEVER said otherwise. I HAVE said that I will NEVER let it define who I am as a person ever again and I mean that. I’m trying, but it’s a struggle and if that makes me a bad person? Because I struggle with it? Well, there’s nothing I can do about that because I won’t lie about how I feel.
Obsessing over food is not something I do because I’m trying to lose weight, it’s been something I’ve done my entire LIFE. I’ve been very honest and open about my issues with weight here. Not everyone can understand because not everyone has eating disorders, not everyone’s mind is fucked up like mine is when it comes to food and weight. I have a problem and I’ve tried my entire life to figure out a way to not think the way I do about food.
I’m sorry if that would make anyone not like me as a person. I’m sorry if that makes people think less of me, I’m sorry if that pisses people off.
I would never judge someone because of their weight or how they look because I know how painful that is, I’ve been a victim of that kind of ridicule and judgement and I would never do that to another person. But guess what? I do it to myself. I put myself down, I talk badly to myself, I call myself a fat ass, I do all the things I hate that people do TO ME.
Why? I have no idea, maybe because it hurts less when I say it first. If I call myself a lazy fat ass, well, when the heartless bitch down the street says it, it doesn’t sting as much.
I’ve come very far in my life in the area of not caring what other people think, but this is my weakness, my weight. It always has been.
It’s never my intention to hurt other people when I write the things I write. I hope you believe me when I say that and I certainly don’t think badly about people who are overweight, ask anyone who knows me, I love people for who they are inside, for who they are as a person.
The problem? I have trouble practicing that kind of unconditional love on myself. I struggle with loving ME no matter what. I TRY. God knows I try, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t.
I just feel so awful because I’ve NEVER given any thought to how I make others feel when I write the things I write about my weight.
I’ll end with this..Jen just said what I was trying to say, but couldn’t think of the right way to say it… I feel as though as a fat girl, I have no voice That’s what I meant by that. It was about ME, no one else.