Thursday, August 13, 2009

Peanut and the 'Gina

You probably know where this is going. Nana buys book with body parts pictured and named, toddler loves book, demands names, mother wants to wring Nana's neck.

I suppose it started out innocently enough. We were in the book section of Goodwill and Nana finds a child's book detailing the body, all of the body. Asks me if it is on the toddler approved reading list, it's not, by the way. I give my okay, thinking it will be put up til toddler is say, OLDER?!?!

Flash forward a couple of weeks, Mia finds the book on her bookshelf at Nana and Papa's house and demands a reading, right then and there. I politely decline, grabbing the baby and bolting for the door. Nana bought it, she can read it. Well, of course, Mia wants to "share" some new information, pictures and all. Keeping in mind these are more or less line drawings, I acquiesce, and have a gander at the naked pencil drawn kids. Boy, they are pretty anatomical. We give the "parts," as they are currently called, the real, honest to goodness names. You know, penis and vagina, the words you want your kid to yell out while you are waiting in line at Walmart. She already has a grasp of boobs and breast, so why not just get it all out there, so to speak?

Last night, I am nursing Ivy and Mia is laying on a little rug, with a blanket and a potty training book that I stuck in Ivy's bookshelf. We will be giving that a whirl sometime next week, kidding, of course. Anyway, Mia is running down this little checklist, quietly, but I can still hear what she is saying.

"Mommy, the 'gina."
"Mia, the 'gina."
"Ivy, the 'gina."
"Nana, the 'gina."
"Sofie, the 'gina." She is our cat, by the way. Don't want her parts to be left out.

"Daddy, the peanut."
"Max, the peanut."
"Papa, the peanut."
"Jon, the peanut."

I don't want to laugh, but it is difficult. She then proceeds to point out the parts of dear, little Prudence. "Look, she has parts, it looks like a smile! Look, has a hole in her bunnies for poop." I just sit there and agree, not wanting to put a damper on all of the fun she is having. I have to draw the line, when she says my parts look like a rabbit. I don't even want to know where she was going with that!

So, thanks Nana for a book on peanuts and the gina's. Let's hope you don't have the Joys of Sex floating around somewhere!

Friday, July 24, 2009


We are mostly moved in to our new house. There are mismatched pictures on the wall and lots of empty places, that I just don't know what to do with. I decided, because I read all of these crazy thrifty decorating blogs, that I need to get off my butt and make something, anything. I leave the girls with the husband and head to Hobby Lobby, the mecca for pretty much everything. I grab a cart and take out my list. I need fabric for the ragamuffin garlands, a capital letter L and some moss to cover it. Not sure why I need a cart, but something is bound to jump out at me that requires an extra pair of hands that I just don't have.

Hobby Lobby is amazing! They have everything you need and alot you don't. I find all kinds of things that I MUST have. My palms begin to sweat and my heart races. Wow, stuff is 50% off in every department. I nearly have to call my husband to rescue me from the towering shelves of stuff that I want. I need a professional intervention. Calling my mom would have been useless. She would have jumped in the car and started stuffing the stuff into my cart. I WANT everything, but cannot for the life of me, figure out what to do with most of it. I read about how all of these thrifty women spray paint everything. Man, if I had a can of paint, I would be painting everything too, metal candlesticks, frames, the kids, I don't care at this time, I am motivated and want to get busy!

I grab what I need and some that I don't. You just really never know when you will need a $24.99 doodad, that was marked down to $2.50. Maybe with a little paint...

Ok, so I didn't buy paint but am going to Walmart today and may pick up a can(or 6). Not sure what I am going to paint yet, but it is coming. I have this brass chandelier that is in for a big shock!

Friday, June 12, 2009

Move in ready

So, we have a new house. It "used" to have a turret and be on a quiet, tree lined street. Now, it is rather big, has no fence and sits facing a major busy street. What happened, you ask? Well, we put a contract on one, we were outbid. We looked at a few more. One had columns, lots of space and only one bathroom. My lovely husband hates it, "Has columns, don't like it." What? More looking ensues, when in fact, we aren't even selling our current home.

I see a house online. It is listed as having 3 bedrooms with a main floor entertainment room. I say I want to see it, we meet our realtor there. It is spacious and has all pedestal sinks, don't ask. It has so, so, so many things that I love, LOVE, hear me? A big kitchen, a big master bedroom with bath. It also has a nice screened in porch and a lovely terrace off my bedroom. Closet space is fine, with ample room to store my massive collection of shoes. That sold it for me right then. Hubby wasn't quite as convinced. "Blah, blah," I hear him say. Ok, I'm done.

His mind changes and we go for it. There is that nasty back and forth that occurs in the real estate world. It is finally agreed upon and we have a house. Wish I could move there.

Sunday, May 17, 2009

Get over it!

I am on a couple of mommy boards. One, in particular, seems to be rife with irritation so much that I have read that it might be shut down. The reason is really incredible and really stupid. It seems there is quite a bit of bashing of certain members, so much that it has driven a couple of the women to actually quit participating. I understand the reasoning. One mom was attacked because of how she disciplined her son. It didn't seem all that unreasonable, the way she handled the situation. But, as usual, things got out of hand and she was personally attacked in a way that I would describe as petty and ignorant. Another member, one who jokingly admits she has a beer and a Xanax, was also recently attacked by her so called "friends." Someone questioned her role as a mom and wondered how her kids would grow up with a crazy, alcoholic mama. I mean, really? There are so many other things in this world that demand our attention. The board calls these people trolls because they interject things that are meant to stir the pot, piss people off and cause the moderators to have to moderate. We are supposed to be friends, to support each as friends and women. Creating havoc doesn't create happy people. I don't think that many from the board in question read my blog, but if they do, if you are a petty betty, step off!

Friday, April 17, 2009

Wild Kingdom

As if Larry the Lizard wasn't enough, darling husband came home the other day and told me to have a look out the kitchen window. What I saw was a bird, a hawk, eating something. Turns out, he was dismantling another bird! There were feathers everywhere. That makes 2 days of animal behavior at my house. What in the world is happening here?

hawk Pictures, Images and Photos

Jurassic Basement

We have company coming, so I decided to take my shower curtains down to the laundry for a washing. I use alot of bleach on the liners and am always afraid that it will get all over me while I try to get them out. When I heard the washing machine stop, I went down and started taking off my clothes. Nice visual, huh? Anyway, I was down to my bra and had the belt of my jeans unbuckled, when I saw something walk past the dryer. It was, are you ready for this, a LIZARD! WTH? It looked alot like this.
Gila Monster Pictures, Images and Photos
See how he is mocking me, daring me to come closer so he can eat me? Or, maybe he is saying, "Na, na, na, na na, I'm in your basement! You can't touch me!" Yeah, laugh it up big guy, laugh it up. So, my reaction to finding this little bit of the herpetarium in my basement is to scream like I am being cut with a samurai sword. The neighbor probably heard. All of them.

I call my husband to have him come home to remove the beast from the basement. He cannot understand me through all of the screaming. At the exact same time that I am screaming at him, a friend calls on my cellphone. She never calls, so while I was concerned, I was a bit more concerned for what was stalking me in the basement. I scream at her too, telling her their is a large reptile in my basement. She, not surprisingly, couldn't understand me and hangs up, texting me to find out what was them matter. I text her back and she just laughs, no offer to come over with a lizard trap. Hubby says he has to go to a meeting and I am left to fight off the beast in the basement. I call my parents. My mom puts my dad on the phone and I tell him to come over immediately to put this thing out of my misery. He says let it be, it eats the bugs. I scream that I don't care and get over here. He does.

We go into the basement. I point out the location of the offender and he grabs a flashlight and step stool. We have weapons but he chooses to go at it unarmed. He pokes and prods things, nothing happens. By now, the thing is probably wandering around the house. The useless cat doesn't even seem interested in what I am telling her. My dad reassures me that at least it isn't a snake. How freakin' reassuring is that? He then goes on to say, that it has probably been in the basement for quite some time, grown up there, so to speak. Freakin' great. I tell my dad to get out because I don't want anymore of his opinions.

I post on my mommy boards. I explain the entire story and my responses are interesting. Most say that I am lucky it isn't a huge spider. While this is true, I could kill a spider and that would be it. Now, I basically have a pet in my basement, and an unwanted one at that. Most laugh at my underwear clad self screaming at the top of my lungs about something I may never see again. Whatever, I am never going into the basement unarmed again.

Larry the Lizard, as I call him now, wasn't really that big. I am figuring about 9-10 inches. That is pretty long though, I think, especially for someone that doesn't like things living in her house that don't make any kind of contribution, other than scaring the crap out of me.

This is probably a more accurate representation of the visitor.
lizard Pictures, Images and Photos

You know, the smiling, happy go lucky lizard that just wants to hang out and be friends. Larry was brown, but you get the idea.

I have yet to see Larry the Lizard again, and I am totally fine with that. I carry a broom and make alot of noise to scare him away. I am not feeding him or setting out water for him, I want him go away, far away. I am still faced with the fear of him crawling into my clean laundry and making his move upstairs. I may need therapy.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Hair Experiment

Done! No comment.

Thursday, April 2, 2009


Ivy woke up at about 430, so my day started early. It usually starts around then, and sometimes I go back to sleep, sometimes I don't. On Tuesday and Thursday, Mia has school, so I have to be dressed fashionably and well coiffed, in order to fit in with all of the other stuck up moms. See the next post regarding the well coiffed part, very sad. Anyway, Ivy went back to sleep so I showered, had coffee etc and decided at 530 that I should get dinner going. Not that we are going to eat prior to 6pm, but hey, why not get a jump on things? I am making chicken and that always takes awhile to bake. If I have a late nap, it could be 7pm before we eat and by then I will have eaten everything in the kitchen. So, I get the cookbook and start assembling the ingredients for this new recipe. The last one I made from this book, SUCKED, so am hoping for better results this time. I mix the Ranch dressing and flour together to dredge my breasts in, just a little early morning humor there. I get the chicken out of the fridge and see these aren't just chicken breasts, they are chicken BREASTS! Mammoth, gargantuan, Dolly Parton sized pieces. They aren't going to bake in 25 minutes, like the recipe says. I will be lucky to get them done in 25 days with my oven. The darn thing isn't even 3 years old yet. I have to bang them down to even fit in the pan, let alone cook. I grab the meat mallet and think about where I can beat them down. It is 530, no one wants to hear me beating the meat, so to speak. I decide the basement is the place. Lots of yucky things happen in basements, so why not a little breast beating? I whack them hard so they flatten enough to be manageable. I can't get them that thin, so guess I will add about an hour to the cooking time. I bring the bags of chicken upstairs to dredge. I HATE, HATE touching chicken! It has a cold, sticky/snotty feeling, and is just gross. I mix the flour and dressing together, by now I can tell this is going to be another sucky dinner, and prepare to plunge my chicken covered hands into cold, sticky Ranch/flour mixture. My teeth are starting to sweat now. You know, that sick feeling you get before you hurl. I have already turned on the faucet because I know the second I am done, I will have to sterilize my hands. I put the first piece in and smoosh it around to get it covered. I am literally, gagging. There is always that squeeby little piece of whatever that comes off the breast, sometimes it hangs on for dear life, but I always remove it because it is totally disgusting. I use a spatula to get better coverage of the dressing/gloppy mixture. You would think that using a spatula would cut some of the hand mess, wrong. There is way too much touching of gross stuff in this recipe, so I will not be making it again, no matter how good it tastes. I get all of the chicken into the pan and set the timer. I rinse all of the dishes/utensils involved and then go about sterilizing my hands. I use the hottest water that will come out and lots of dishsoap. My cuticles will look like hell but I don't want any remnants of the chicken goo I call our dinner to be on me. Then, there is the cleanup of the prep area. Oh, no, there are squeeby particles and the dressing mess on the table. I have no papertowels. I get a clean hand towel and proceed to spray the entire area, twice, for best results, with a mixture of chemicals that I'm sure could send me to the hospital. There is no trace of the yuck that I was cooking so I am happy. However, the sink has the yucky dredge bowl in it and the mixture isn't coming out. I kick up the hot water and try to rinse it out without touching it. Finally it comes clean, but the gack is now stuck in the sink. Nice. I run some more hot water and turn up the faucet to a more concentrated stream. It seems to do the trick. I have to wash my hands again, just in case something gross got on them. I don't even have an OCD but chicken is so gross that I must wash, must wash, must wash. By now, I am angry that I have made something that is probably going to suck, my family won't eat it and I have to be sterilized after making it. I get it into the oven, it actually smells pretty good. By 630, it is done. I have cut into it, just to make sure that we won't get some squeeby chicken disease if we eat it. All I can say, is that dinner is done and it will probably suck. So, I have been up since 430, my hair looks like crap, my cuticles look like crap and I have created and cooked some crap. Have a nice day!

No hair wash-Day 1

I got up at the crack of dawn with the baby and decided to just shower, not wash my hair. I did it yesterday and my hair still had that straw-like quality to it. I smelled it, felt it, ran the brush through it to see if it was an oilslick. Nothing led me to believe it would look like hell so stuck the shower cap on, and off I went. I look lovely in my poufy, pink showercap. Maybe I should have left it on. Once I started trying to style my hair, the reality set in. Not too greasy but very flyaway and still dry looking. I plugged in the curling iron, hoping for a miracle. Apparenly, today was not my lucky day. My hair is sticking out in a million different directions and is really creeping me out. The curling iron curled the ends under(a little maybe)but the rest is flipping out all over the place! My old straightening iron didn't work, so I threw it away. I can't see getting a second mortgage to buy a Chi either. So, today I am stuck. I hear it is going to rain, so may just wear the shower cap.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

New Hair Experiment

Due to the fact that my hair is suffering more than usual, I abandoned my baking soda/vinegar idea. I have deep conditioned twice and today went back to my expensive(but very worth it)Redken shampoo. My hair is on the mend and looks alot better, no pictures because I hate them. Anyway, my new experiment is not to wash everyday, letting the natural grease, I mean, oils, take over and make my hair look great. I was talking to my wonderful stylist and she said that she only washes twice a week! Her hair always looks great, not sure mine will. Let me rephrase, it won't, but I will give it a whirl and see what happens. I have my showercap ready for tonight and we will see how long I can go without washing. I am scared. K's hair always looks great, I'm sure just not because she is a professional. Saturday, Mia and I are going to get our hair cut, so we will see what K's verdict is.

Tuesday, March 31, 2009

Hair Experiment-Day 4

I have been using the baking soda/cider vinegar plan for 4 days now. I have noticed a few things about my hair and/or washing it.

Baking soda-no lather-hate this
Baking soda in eyes/mouth-hate this
Baking soda-quick rinse-love this
Cider vinegar smell-love this, especially on french fries
Cider vinegar smell in hair-I thought it was supposed to rinse out?-I am not a french fry
Baking soda/cider vinegar-hair is like straw-hate this

My hair's texture is like dried straw. Wavy, dried straw. Time to try a new approach. This am, I washed with the soda and used an Aveda deep conditioning to reel in my straw head. Seems to be much smoother and smells better. Maybe I will post pictures, maybe I will go back to lathering shampoo.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

Hair Experiment

I have been reading alot about washing your hair with baking soda and cider vinegar and how much better it is for your hair than all of the chemicals found in regular shampoo. Now, I absolutely HATE HATE to have dirty, greasy hair so this concept is as foreign to me as Mandarin. I like to have squeaky, good smelling hair that is easy to comb through. But, I would also like to have hair that is easy to style, which this no shampoo approach is supposed to remedy. Apparently, the lack of chemicals cleans your hair better, leaving it in a more natural state, allowing for curls to be curlier etc. Problem is, I don't have any curl and very little wave, so I am thinking this is going to leave an oil slick for a style. Lots of people have good luck with this, and since I don't work, I figured I would give it a try. This is the first day with the soda/vinegar alternative. There is no lathering, which is the part of the process that I love the most, and no smell, until you add the vinegar. So, I got the job done but figured that combing would be a real mess. I was wrong, combing was just fine. My hair felt nice, actually. Hubby thought it looked really good too. Here is a picture of day 1.

The wonderful stylist I have, read my blog! Horror! I thought she would tell me to bust out the shampoo but... I was wrong! She doesn't wash everyday and has great hair. I am hoping mine will look as good as hers. I'm not holding my breath because she didn't offer to come over every day and help me style it and everyone knows I can't do anything with my hair... I love her anyway, though.

Monday, March 9, 2009


I don't think that I know how to relax. I can't do it, there is always something that I need to do or should be doing, so my mind, or body, takes over and I can't relax. I used to think that sitting in front of the tv or surfing the internet was relaxing, it isn't. When I play Scrabble online, it is stressful, having to concoct words so that you can win. It is also stressful when you fall 5 games behind. Where is the fun in even playing, I sometimes wonder? Where is the fun in doing laundry, washing floors, putting stuff away, dusting? I don't know... How can I relax?

I have a relaxation fantasy, if you will. It doesn't include Brad Pitt, Angelina will just NOT let him go. If he was in the fantasy, it wouldn't be very relaxing anyway. I would have to have my hair and makeup perfect and my thighs and stomach, well... Just not happening. So, the fantasy starts out with getting a massage by just hands, no one attached. I don't want to be talked to etc. I just want to relax. After a nice massage, I would move to the hot tub, where I would sip a nice, frozen margarita. No salt, not much alcohol, just a lime Slurpee. I would then move to the beach. I don't like much heat, it would be warm but not where I am sweating, because sweating isn't relaxing. I would lay(or is it lie) at the edge of the water and the waves would gently reach me, surrounding my warm skin with cool water. I don't know what kind of bathing suit I am wearing because that takes away all of the relaxation. I know I'm not svelte and so I have deemed this a private beach and bathing suits optional. The air is fragrant with flowers and I can hear the palm trees rustling in the distance. I might even hear some dolphins. I am no expert on where dolphins really live and this is a fantasy so they can be in my backyard if I want them to be. Maybe I am relaxing. I don't get hives from the sun, I don't get all sweaty and no one is there to talk to me. Maybe I will get some Mexican food. For some reason, the beach is always in Mexico. I know there are beautiful beaches in Europe and around the world, but I know I like Mexican food, so it just seems to work out best that I am over the border. I try to use this fantasy when I can't fall asleep. It rarely works.

The next relaxation fantasy I have deals with the mountains. I am not really a beach person so this one tends to work a little better. I am in a huge valley with craggy, snow covered mountains all around me. I am laying in deep grass with millions of wildflowers surrounding me. The smell is intoxicating. I am looking into the bright blue Colorado sky. The sky is endless, like looking into Heaven. Not a cloud in sight. Beautiful. When I get up, I can see the amazing colors of all of the flowers and trees. I'm not that big into nature but can appreciate everything that I am seeing. I can hear the birds chirping and the deer gently rustling the brush. Squirrels are poking around, looking for a snack. I am having a snack myself, trail mix, with lots of almonds and M&M's. Usually, trail mix gives me a horrible stomachache but this is a fantasy and if I want to be drinking Long Island Iced Tea while eating trail mix, while standing in a field, juggling chain saws, then I will. I end my fantasy by walking to a log cabin and having a nice dinner, the menu yet to be determined. I'm not sure the mountains are associated with a certain type of food, so I will just leave it at that. Nevermind, that I will be getting those sun induced hives, that I am allergic to everything outdoors and am afraid of rabid squirels. While this is a nice thought, it doesn't really keep me that relaxed.

In my quest for relaxation, I have tried many things, laying with my feet up on the couch, a glass of wine, exercise, reading, surfing the internet, watching tv, cooking, drugs(not the street kind), napping and a bunch of other stuff. As of yet, not much has worked. I'm not sure what is going to do the trick, though I do have that call into Angelina to see if Brad might be available.

I think relaxation is overrated.

Sunday, February 15, 2009

Get out of here!

Ivy is in the hospital with RSV. It has been trying, to say the least. Maybe I will chronicle it, maybe I will just move on and try to put it behind me. It has been a rough week but something last night is just baffling to me.

I was standing in the kitchen area at 130am. The respirtory tech is sucking the thick crap out of my tiny, tiny daughter. I have a ponytail, glasses, ratty t shirt and pj bottoms. I look great, no, not really. I am likely having another glass of water as the hospital is dry and my nose is cracked and bleeding.

A male approaches me. This isn't anything new, there are people in and out of the kitchen, as the pediatric ward is filled, overflowing, really. He stops and begins to chat with me. He is dressed nicely and has stylish glasses. He also has 2 front teeth, the rest black and worn down. He is also covered in 40 tattoos. I don't see them all, just some, why me? Anyway, he has a 2 year old with RSV. She was premature, weighing in at 11oz, at 5 months. He explains that he has 5 other kids, one right out of high school. Apparently, when the sick baby was born, he drove fast to get to Wesley. From 21st and Amidon, he made it to Central and Hillside in a minute. I don't think the helicopter can make it that fast but I let him ramble about how much he spent to fix up this rocket car of his. Ok, by now I am ready to run away but can't. He continues to yammer on, asking me how old I was and how old my sick child was. I tell him and he actually says, I don't think anyone is ready for this. Really... He says, "I think that you are pretty attractive." My jaw drops and I want to smack him. I totally cannot believe this guy. What man can hit on a woman, while both of their daughters lay very ill? I'm not saying he wanted a date, just some things aren't appropriate and this was one of them. Some people.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Just a little busy

This is why I haven't been blogging regularly.




Thursday, January 8, 2009

I know

I know that I haven't had a new post in awhile. I really don't have much to say, just wrapping up loose ends before Tuesday, when I will have the C section to retrieve Ivy from my enormous tummy. The past few days have been hard, I have alot of contractions and pain from her moving. The bad part is that all of the pain hasn't led to anything productive about labor. I am kind of just laying low and trying to relax but even that is hard.

I hope to be back with something witty, sometime. Until then, think of me while I am up all hours of the night, changing diapers and attempting to nurse.