Move along, nothing to see here.

Today, I broke a rule I made to myself. The rule of not engaging in “Drama”

I singled someone out, not because they didn’t kiss my ass, because I the tone of their comments touched a nerve.
I tried to email this person privately, but what do you know? fake email address.
I’m sensitive when it comes to my daughter and while I don’t think she had bad intentions with her original comment, the fact that she kept going and the fact that she insulted me about using “proper birth control” pissed me off and I acted on it without thinking.
I do NOT ban people who disagree with me. I had to ask a friend HOW to do it, infact. I only banned her because she was stalking my blog, and it creeped me out. (yeah, I can see how long you’re hanging around and how many times you’ve viewed my blog. 59 in 72 minutes? DAYUM)
I am sorry if I was harsh on Katie, that I singled her out and that it came to what it did. I really am. And I love that Mieke called me out on it. Yeah, it’s my blog and I can say or do whatever I want, but this is NOT what I wanted.
All I wanted to do was write a post about how totally in LOVE with my daughter I am.
That’s why I felt justified in writing what I did, because what I wrote wasn’t up for debate, it was me, simply stating my enormous love for my daughter.
I love Mieke and the fact that she’s completely honest with me. What she said made me think. I should have just let it go and let Katie be.
websol.jpg
I’m sorry. And with a spray of The ‘Sol, I’m done.

Joy, Unexpected


I love that little girl.
My God, I love her.
I can’t get over how perfect she is. How beautiful she is. How precious she is. How funny she is. How sweet she is.
She wasn’t supposed to be here.
I’d hear people talk about their “OOOPS” baby. Their “unexpected baby.”
I’d laugh and say “I don’t know what I’d do if that happens to us! Thank GOD for The Rythym Method!”
OOPS!
Ten months later, I STILL can’t get over the whole “She wasn’t supposed to be here” factor. It just makes her so damn special to all of us.
Oh, and did you notice, my daughter, the one I never thought I’d have, HAS DIMPLES?!?
I CAN’T EVEN STAND IT SOMETIMES. She’s just so… amazing. And so, unexpected. And so… not planned and so… MY DAUGHTER.
There. I think I got it out of my system. It was either write it out, or run up and down the street naked screaming “I HAVE A DAUGHTER THAT WASN’T PLANNED AND I TOTALLY LOVE HER AND WANT TO BITE HER TO PIECES!!”

Yeah… I’m scared! JEALOUS?

EARTHQUAKE!!
You people have no idea how scared I get when these things happen.
I always think it’s just the beginning and an even bigger one is coming.
Which would mean that we’re going to lose power and water, so I run to the toilet, pee, then I take a shower. That way I’m clean and emptied, just in case that happens.
I try to stay calm now that I have kids, because THEY freak out and being their mother, I’m supposed to reassure them that everything is going to be ok.
Before I had kids? I would run to the toilet and scream “I’m sorry God, for everything, please, don’t let me die.”
Now, I pretend to be calm, make sure the kids are ok, hug them, THEN I go pee and cry a little inside.
It’s the feeling of having absolutely NO control over what is happening that scares me.
It was 5.6. Damn. Ok. I’m better now. I think.

Decisions, decisions.

Nothing quite as awesome as getting poked first thing in the morning.
With a needle…
(remember? Tony’s Weapon of Mass Fertilization is still “active” so, no pokey pokey from him allowed! That’s right, I went on Pokey Strike until he makes an appointment. I had to take drastic measures, people.)
The nurse asked me how I was doing as she looked for a vain “I’m ok. I’d rather not be getting poked this early in the morning, but…”
“Well, everyone has to get poked every once in a while” She replied
“And not always the good kind of poke, either” I shot back.
Oh, how she laughed. Good thing she wasn’t apostolic, I thought to myself, she might not have appreciated it.
Doctor ordered some tests to find out what’s wrong with me, but based on the 5 pages of “symptoms” I read him, he believes that I have acid reflux. Call me crazy, but I think symptom #15-(Throwing up in my mouth a little everyday), is what he based that belief upon. That would explain me waking up feeling as if I can’t breathe and then panicking and my heart racing.
He said something about “cutting out caffeine”, “avoiding spicy foods” and “losing weight”, but I was too “busy being in denial” to know for sure.
He also said he wanted to put me on some meds, but can’t because I’m still making and administering Tittymilk. I now have to decide if I want to stop the Tittymilk so that I can take the meds. I’ve decided I’ll wait until after the results of the bloodwork come in before I make that decision. I’ve also decided to use the word “decide” as often as possible in this paragraph. It’s my blog, I’m allowed to make that decision. The decision is mine. Because I decide what I do with my body. It is not the governments decision to decide.
There are several reasons why I don’t want to stop breastfeeding.
It’s convienient. Especially when Lil’ G decides to wake up at 4 am. I can bring her into bed, Whip A Tit out and we both fall back asleep. Everyone’s a winner. Even Tony, because he gets to SEE the titty! Awesome!
I would miss the experience. I love when she nurses. I love the closeness, the way she smiles at me while she’s doing her business, the way she’ll rest her hands on My Big Ones, the sound of her breath as she’s drinking. I would miss that, but I know it has to come to an end sometime.
I’m also afraid of what is going to happen to My Big Ones after the milk dries up. I was T-R-A-U-M-A-T-I-Z-E-D after I stopped nursing Andrew.
Three days after I had stopped, I started undressing to get in the shower. I took my bra off, looked up in the mirror and HOLY SHIT! MY BOOBS!
My breasts, once full, plump and large, were now two flat, deflated, pieces of skin with nipples pointing towards the floor.
“TOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONYYYYYYYYY” I screamed.
“MY BOOOOOOOOOOOOBS!” It was as if someone took a needle to them, popped them and let all of the air out. What was left was the ugliest pair of boobs my eyes had ever beheld.
I cried. And cried. And cried again.
All day.
Everyday, for the next few weeks.
Now, back then, they were ONLY a D. I can’t imagine when will happen to my E cup boobs. THEY WILL HANG TO THE FLOOR! I will have to fold them up to stuff them in my bra! I will have a bra full o’ skin n’ nips. No actual boob! Gross!
I’m scared. And I’m not even kidding.
I have an idea! I’ll “quit nursing” but never actually “quit making milk” by secretly pumping everynight after the family goes to bed. No one will ever know! Well, no one except the entire World Wide Web!
Sometimes, I am able to put aside my stupidity and let a little genius shine through.
I just hope everything comes back normal so I don’t have to make any decisions that might cause the deflation of my boobs.

The one where I never SHUTUP.

I no longer believe that the fact I’ve lost 3 pounds in the last few days without even trying is not due to the fact that I have cancer.
It is due to the fact that I have a 10 month old human being who is into everything, everywhere, every waking minute of every waking day and I don’t have a chance to sit down and relax at ALL because I have to keep my daughter from choking on things, breaking things, knocking the trash can over and playing with raw chicken skin, and so on and so forth.
And let’s not forget CHEWING THINGS.
I’d like to submit evidence.
Exhibit A.

Yeah, she may only have 1 and a half teeth, but she KNOWS HOW TO USE THEM.
The reason we spent the extra money to buy that crib was because it turns into a bed! So we were like “sure, it costs more, but we can use it for YEARS!”
Obviously, we weren’t thinking about the possibility that our daughter would be part beaver.
I couldn’t even finish my dump this morning because the girl decided she didn’t want to stay in the bathroom with The Stink and TOOK OFF. I was sitting there, on the pot, screaming for her “GABBY! Come back to mama! I take it back! You can totally play with the clorox bleach!” Nope, she was gone. And so, I had to up and wipe because, trust me, she could kill herself because? We haven’t baby proofed yet. I thought we still had time! With the first, you’re on that shit like Tom on Katie, but by the time the third one pops out, you’re much more relaxed about everything.

I can relax NO MORE. The girl is on the move and looking for trouble.
I don’t NEED any trouble.
Unless by “trouble” you mean a bottle of wine and a rubbing of the feet. Because I totally need that.

Remember, for only $459,000 you too can share in my joy

I honestly did not think it was possible for me to LOVE this neighborhood more than I already do. (no, seriously, The White Trash-iness grows on you!! Honest!)
Ex boyfriends living on the hill across the street from your house because their girlfriend’s parents have a restraining order against them. Potato launchers at 2 in the morning. People walking across the street with a rifle in one hand and a beer in the other at 11 in the morning. Having to open your window and yell at your neighbors to ‘SHUT THE HELL UP ALREADY’ at 4 in the morning. Neighbors yelling “PUT YOUR TRASH IN THE BACKYARD BECAUSE I’M HAVING AN OPEN HOUSE TODAY AND I CAN’T SELL MY HOUSE WITH ALL YOUR TRASH” at other neighbors out of their car window.
Oh, the joy. The GREAT JOY.
So, imagine the happiness I felt when I woke up, opened the blinds and my eyes were assaulted surprised with this precious gem…

Continue reading →

And he’s ALL mine ladies, so STEP OFF.

My husband just blamed me for the fact he has putrid poisonous gas blasting out of his ass because “WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME I COOKED HIM SOME VEGETABLES?”
Because he’s a doctor and he totally knows that 2 days of no broccoli = gas that smells like a rotting dead body. He also knows that it is MY job to make sure he eats his vegetables.
What will he (and his ass) do should I die tomorrow? I don’t know! Perhaps, COOK THEIR OWN DAMN VEGGIES? Oh, the horror!
Fourteen years he’s been blaming me for everything that’s wrong with him, but this one will go down in our history as the greatest accusation EVER.