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December 2005
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February 2006

When You Know Your Life Has Gotten THAT Sad

Today we are, finally, getting a new roof.  I was going to post a picture but most of the pictures I put up here are already boring enough without adding the two men on a roof pic.  (If I could have gotten a shot of the guys swabbing the roof with hot tar in a Shawshank Redemption kind of tribute then, rest assured, I would have posted it ‘cause that would have been cool.)  Anyways, the GREAT news is that they said they’ll be done today, except for maybe some minor cleanup, replacing tiles, etc. tomorrow morning.  I had no idea this sort of thing could be done in a day.  Sure, the roof inspector guy had told me 2-3 days tops way back when I signed the contract, but I didn’t believe him.  I figured it would take 4-5.  Nothing in my experience has lead me to believe contractors (Gary excluded) are ever on time, let alone over-estimate the time needed to finish a project.  Sorry, I’m cynical that way.

The bad news is that they had to disconnect our satellite dish.  At first I didn’t panic.  I thought no big deal.  The roof guys even said they would be done by 4:00 if I could get a dish person out here today to reinstall.  I call Dish Network… they can’t get out here until FRIDAY!!  This means we have no TV whatsoever!  I swear I started having a complete meltdown, shakes included.  So so sad, but true.  It’s not like I don’t have plenty of books, music, movies,  and yes, anything already recorded on the DVR would play but still!  I was getting really pissed off even though there wasn’t a whole lot I could do.  My hippie parents would be very disappointed.  It was just one of those moments.  And then I checked the listings to find that Lost and Invasion are both repeats.  Whew!  Now I feel better. 

How super lame is that?              - the weirdgirl

(P.S. How lame is it that I just used the word “lame”?  Decade, anyone?)

A Little Too Literal

Chance’s new noise is a hooting monkey sound.  He does it when he’s in his crib trying to stave off falling asleep. He also hangs off the bars to his crib in all kinds of gyrations.  I know people describe their households full of kids as ZOOs, but geez!

Chance also gets pissed if I sing, “Despite all your rage, you’re still just a rat in a cage,” while he’s trapped outside a baby gate.  Maybe it’s because I start laughing. hee hee!     

             - the weirdgirl

Derailed – the Syndrome

This week started off so strong and then about halfway through completely foundered.  On Monday I was ahead of the game.  About Wednesday I got behind on my list of to dos, my writing, my blog reading, etc. etc. Chance needed extra cuddling that day and if I’ve learned anything about being a parent, I’ve learned that it will derail everything.  Everything you think you know, everything you expect to do, all emotional states of being – derailed, derailed, derailed.  Bad moods are vanished by seeing your kid’s smile.  Happy industriousness runs headlong into tantrum number twelve and becomes frustrated chagrin.  And, of course, LOTS of things just don’t get done in a timely manner.  Oy to the vey.

So I’m trying to play catch up this Saturday. (“Playing catch up” should be my new mantra.  Or maybe that’s a catch phrase, though that doesn’t sound like it will strike fear into the hearts of supervillains.  Wait, would that be a catch phrase or a warcry?  Hmm.  My mantra previous-to-kid had been, “What I Got” by good ol’ Sublime. “That’s why I don’t mind when my dog runs away…”  When the going got tough, I would hum that and reapply my lipstick.  I just felt like sharing that with you.)  Usually I try to avoid posting on the weekend so I can have uninterrupted family time.  But today I felt I really needed to make up for some lost time.  Re-railing, so to speak. 

I had a lovely lunch with Wood yesterday.  And I stayed longer than I meant to (sorry Wood!) only because the kids looked SO CUTE together!  This was the first time I got to see Chance with another child close to his age and let me tell you, they were frickin’ precious.  Juniper and Chance crawled around on the floor, played with toys, collaborated on opening and closing a set of French doors, and grinned their little baby grins.  I had a hard time taking my eyes off of them.  (Like a dork, I forgot my camera, so I hope Wood got some good photos.)

I’ve updated the Things They Don’t Tell You list (see previous post), after getting some new additions from my girl Rebecca.  Thanks hon!

Props to :P Fuzzbox, my worthy adversary on our Beauty vs. the Beast post.  You rock!  (And I love the girly pics on your site.  Some feminist I am, huh?  Now where’s my steak dinner? )

OK, I think that’s it for now.  Next on my list is a blogroll update. I can’t promise that it will get done today (I see derailment heading for me like a pre-toddler crawling machine), but it will get done eventually.  I hope everyone has a fabulous weekend! 

            - the weirdgirl

The Things They Don’t Tell You in Lamaze

The Official List - As usual I invite any additions for the list of the things no one warned you about or any unexpected things that you found irksome, disturbing, strange or funny while on the great parenthood adventure. Commentary, category suggestions and humor are encouraged. I will give credit and a link back to anyone who participates. - wg


Category: Waiting Waiting Waiting, Pregnancy Itself

Dead Thing in My Mouth - Submitted by Em at Compulsively Crocheted: I just recently became pregnant and haven't been to Lamaze class yet, but I have something going on that certainly seems weird. It seriously tastes like something died in my mouth.  Disgusting much?!  I know my hormones are going crazy and everything but it makes food taste horrible and no amount of brushing or mouthwash helps!  Can't wait for the second trimester!


Category: Diapers

Butt Explosions – You all know what I’m talking about: volume, odor, leakage and/or multi-layered colored strata…enough said. -wg

Sniffing for Poops – Sure they discussed dirty diapers in Lamaze. They showed us how to change a dirty diaper. They talked about how we would need to watch for frequency and consistency of said poop (NEVER firmer than peanut butter!!). What they didn’t tell us is how, at some point, we would find ourselves, with increasing frequency and enthusiasm, burying our noses in our child’s patooty, inhaling vociferously like we were sniffing crack off the baby’s bottom, only to announce (practically crowing in glee) to the world at large, “Yep, there’s poops in there!” - wg

Exer-saucer or Poop - Submitted by J at Black Belt Mama: No one tells you that the cure for baby constipation is a nice sit in the saucer. No one tells you either, that if said baby is in said saucer when poop occurs, you'll be cleaning it from behind her ears.

Category: New Skills

Such Talented Feet - The sudden ability to properly identify foodstuffs with just your feet.  As in, step, step... hotdog, step step... three-day old petrified corn, etc.  No sight recognition necessary, simply walk across the rug and see what your feet tell you.  - wg

American Idol (for the Under Six Set) - Submitted by Andrea at The World of Me: I don't know what category this falls under but I know that after I had my son and now that he is six, I can't remember who sings what song from my OWN choice of albums and bands, yet for some reason I know all the actions and lyrics to EVERY single Wiggles song and don't find that scary at all, especially while doing dishes and just breaking out into song... when did that become acceptable?

WHO Invented Multitasking? - Submitted by nakedanarchists: Only a mother can nurse her infant while talking on the phone, taking a cake out of the oven, and write a check--all at the same time! What did we do with our time before kids???

Category: The Physics of Vomit

That First Time - Submitted by Amy at Binkytown: The first time your baby vomits, I mean really vomits, its like a horror movie! What seems like a juicy burp can surprise you and before your eyes turn into a monster projectile puke. My poor baby looked as though he had just come through the car wash but someone forgot to rinse the soap off of him. He was plastered in it. It was stuck to his eyebrows, in his eyelashes, in his ears. Oh the horror.  I had to collect all the soiled bedding, towels, clothes (both sets for both of us), bathmats, etc. in a big black garbage bag, wearing my yellow plastic dish washing gloves and take the first of many showers that week, because you know, it never happens just once.

Category: Postpartum Bodily Functions

Revenge of the Period – Submitted by Gigi at Growing Up Too Fast: One of the things I hated but didn't know about until it happened was what I call "Revenge of the Period." I guess it makes sense that after such a long hiatus you'd get one heck of a period, but COME ON!

Premiere Poop – Submitted by Girls Gone Child: Um, this is totally gross and I never took lamaze class BUT I have a feeling that they do not tell you about the post-partum premiere-poop- HE-LLOOOO? Giving birth AGAIN much? Shiyat.

Mrs. Roid - Submitted by Kristen at Motherhood Uncensored: How about the passing or permanent visit from Mrs. Roid? Always a pleasant surprise for new moms... making the post-partum poopies even more exciting... Thank god for baby oil, prep H, and GIN.

Tinkle, Tinkle – Submitted by Izzy at Moonshine: They sure as hell don't tell you that you MAY be wetting your pants every time you sneeze or get up off the floor too fast — for the REST OF YOUR LIFE!

Sneaky Poots - Submitted by Keri at Auburn Girl Always:  Sneaky poots. While related to the regular appearance of Mrs. Roid and the other extreme muscular stretching effects of vaginal births, sneaky poots are particularly troublesome. When I returned to work 8 weeks after the birth of DD (now 5 and awaiting arrival of her baby sister/brother in Feb. '07), I became aware that the mere act of standing up from my desk or bending over at a file cabinet or some other perfectly normal and NOT strenuous movement would assist in the sneaky exit of gas.

Category: Breasts

Flailing Boob Syndrome – The occurrence of extra boob movement on particular days (I STILL don’t get why this happens!) - wg

Headlights – Submitted by Mary at DayCareDaze: I've always been well-endowed, and after THREE pregnancies, I never, ever, ever go in public without a bra, not for a second. It's not so much about the flailage, which has ALWAYS been an issue for me, but that the headlights are so dramatically out of alignment. So they're flailing in two TOTALLY DIFFERENT directions.

Stretch Marks on the Boobages - This one just never occurred to me… but let me tell you it’s not very attractive! And I think any extra stretch marks ANYWHERE are just sort of unfair. - wg

The Lost & Found Valley - I don't know why this one is in the "Requisite Handbook of Mom Looks, Sayings & Occurrences" but ever since I became a mother things keep falling down my shirt.  Food, leaves, small toys... everything ends up in my bra.  This never happened before parenthood, and it's not like I gained any additional bosum with pregnancy.  In fact, being on the small side, it's not even like I have any real cleavage... just a valley.  A wide, food-filled valley.  - wg

Category: Our Changing Bodies

The Front Ass – Submitted by Jess at Them and Us: No one mentioned that after having a few kids, that your lower abdomen would cease to resemble normal skin, and would instead crumple in on itself. An almost perfectly centered, vertical fold of skin right below the belly button. Which looks like your ass. Except in front. And a little less functional. (Because the ass in general does serve several necessary functions, while the front ass does not.)

Category: the Brain and the Five Senses

Failed Eyesight – Submitted by Girls Gone Child: Failed Eyesight. It started with pregnancy and has gotten significantly worse. And now I am practically blind.

Enhanced Smell – This isn’t as bad now as the enhanced olfactory sense you have when you’re pregnant, but still it seems like my nose is more sensitive than it used to be. I feel like I can literally sniff out a poopy diaper within a hundred foot range. And for all of you out there who indulge in the “cut and run” method to disposing gas… trust me, if you try that around me these days, I’ll know (much to my dismay). - wg

Memory – Submitted by Mary at DayCareDaze: Memory! They tell you in Lamaze classes that pregnant women often have trouble with their short-term memory. They tell you it will come back. My oldest is twenty, and I'M STILL WAITING...

Butter Fingers - Just like with memory, someone had warned me that the manual dexterity in my hands might go down when I was pregnant (though this was NEVER mentioned in Lamaze).  What I never expected was that I wouldn't get it all back!  Sure I can manage to pick up stuff more reliably now than when I was pregnant, but I'm still dropping things.  (And you'd think with a new baby, the ability to HOLD ON to items would be a rather critical skill.)  - wg

Category: Clothes

If the Shoe Fits – Submitted by BiteMyCookie: I am quite please to only be afflicted by the gross surge and recession of my shoe size. After Foo came flying out and my cankles gave way, I went from a 9-1/2 to an 11. I am just getting back into 9-1/2 17 months later. dang. This is great.

If the Shoe Fits II - I knew feet changed size during pregnancy - what with water, weight gain, and the general vindictive humor of the universe. What I didn’t expect was that my feet would continue to occasionally bloat oh so subtly after the pregnancy (and subtly enough that I hadn’t noted it previously) to the extent that I could try on a pair of shoes, love them, buy them, go to wear them THREE DAYS LATER aaaand… they don’t fit. (What was I saying about the universe?)   - wg

The Right Shirt – Submitted by ktjrdn: Everyone tells you how it takes a while to fit into your pre-pregnancy pants, but no one mentions the shirts. When I was breast-feeding, only about half my shirts fit me. I wore my pants pretty quickly I think, but looked like Dolly Parton on top for a full year.

The New Accessory I find myself choosing daily meals by color based on what I or my child is wearing... not ONLY so I can avoid new stains, but also so I can just smear the food across my sleeve and still leave the house without changing. - wg

Category: Skin, Hair, and Postpartum Grooming

Ch-ch-changes! – Submitted by Coffee Betsy: For my entire life, I have been cursed with stick-straight hair that will not hold a curl. Then, after I had a baby, my hair turned curly. The kind of curly that I desperately tried to replicate in 8th grade with a series of unfortunate perms.  What's up with that? Oh, and to make things EXTRA fun, it's not totally curly and gorgeous and movie star looking -- the top layer is still totally straight.

It’s All About Timing – One thing they don’t have to tell you in Lamaze is that kids sure are messy. I don’t know about anyone else but I’ve learned to time when I’m going to put on lotion; for example, mealtimes, playing outside, and arts and crafts are times to avoid. That lotion is just going to attract other sticky elements (like, with magnetic force!) and then you have to wash it off anyway.  Preferably wait until your child’s naptime or after he’s gone to bed. Actually, I find that all grooming is best done when everyone in the household is asleep… children, spouses, pets, it’s just easier to get quiet time in the bathroom.  Bikini wax at midnight, anyone?    - wg

Line of Demarcation - One of the less obvious marks of pregnancy were these little ridges I got in my finger nails, like little speed bumps straight across the nail. After I gave birth I watched the last ridge slowly grow out, marking the time before and after I was pregnant. Just thinking about it makes me a little nostalgic.  - wg

Too Much of a Good Thing - Submitted by EdenSky: They tell you you may get thick shiny hair...they don't tell you that it may not be on your head. Face, thighs, stomach, nipples, feet...yeah. Also, it may not go away after the pregnancy is over!

Category: That Thing Called Sleep

The Other Bedwetting – Submitted by ktjrdn: They tell you that you will be tired. What they fail to mention is that you'll be so tired that when you get up to pee before feeding the baby in the middle of the night, yet again, that you just may be sooo tired that you forget to pull down your underwear before using the toilet.

Every Which Way but Up - Submitted by Kara at Cape Buffalo: I don't even know what you'd call this... but at one point, I was so sleep deprived that I woke up in the middle of the night to feed my crying baby and she wouldn't stop grunting and squirming and she wouldn't latch on.  It took me several minutes to realize I was trying to nurse the back of her head.  Her face was in the crook of my arm.

Category: Necessary Items

Black Holes – What’s up with turning around and suddenly there isn’t enough of something on hand that YOU KNOW you had plenty of a moment before? And I mean, KNOW as in just picked up the item and put it in it’s proper place OR just pulled a big pile of laundry out of the dryer, folded everything, and put it away. This includes but is not limited to: burp rags, bibs, clean undershirts, favorite toy(s). And, more importantly, HOW are those same items ending up in a pile in the middle of the floor to get tripped over in the dead of the night (especially the toys)? (I swear I put everything away, so I can only assume the universe and quantum mechanics just have it in for parents.) - wg

Category: Just Plain Gross

Eating Out – Somehow I never expected “eating out” to turn into “eating off”, as in eating off the counter, eating off the baby’s spoon, eating pieces of food that missed baby’s mouth off his cheek, and of course, eating off the floor. Screw the 15-second rule, this one only applies if it’s been on the floor for 15 minutes or longer (basically, when you get sick of waiting for baby or pets to come scoop it up on another trip around the coffee table). If it’s on the floor and doesn’t look too trampled… pop, right in the mouth. - wg

Even Dirtier Than Camping - Regardless if you just stepped out of the shower, between the drool, milk, sticky fingers, second-hand sweat, smeared food, or general dirt and grime that just "travels" from your child to you... it's official... you're NEVER CLEAN!  - wg

The ToleranceSubmitted by EdenSky: My addition is the total re-evaluation of your tolerance for bodily fluids. As in: Diaper springs a little leak while baby's on your lap? Meh, it's not poopy, why bother changing?...Baby offers you a bite of half-chewed slobbery cookie? Sure, that's still 70% good cookie!...Kid's nose is running and she keeps licking it? Wipe that sucker with the edge of your sleeve...Poop on your hand would once have necessitated a vat of bleach and possibly some flames, but now a little soap will do the trick...Vomit, however is still gross.


Category: Blessed Toddlerhood

Jekyll and Hyde (Chuckle... then hide)Submitted by Ilina at Dirt and Noise: You know what they don't tell you? That the sweet, swaddled, deliciously darling infant with the softest skin imaginable and coos so magical they make you coo in return will one day be 3-years old. A fired up, storm of emotions ranging from high pitched tantrums (in public, natch) to squeals of words that leave you wondering, "Where did he learn that? Certainly I never use THAT word!"

Category: All Things Potty

The Death Spiral of a Sex Drive Submitted by cranky buddha: No one told me that my once sexy husband would ruin it all by using the word "potty" in reference to his OWN PERSONAL toilet needs!!!! What the hell is that?

Category: the Brain and the Five Senses... Continued!

Memory: Who Knows What the Kids Will Take Next? Submitted by cranky buddha:  It has taken them years (8 and 6) but my kids have finally succeeded in depleting me of my most prized piece of my brain... The part that contained my beloved and highly valued spelling and grammar skills! There was once a time when Microsoft Word and I got along swimmingly and I NEVER got those silly red and green underlines. I didn't even know how to use spell check! Now I'm down asking my eight year old if he thinks a particular word looks right to him... Luckily, he's a great speller.

Another Milestone – the Sporting Event

I’m pooped today.  I was going to attempt to meet the playgroup for a walk this morning, but Chance went to his first hockey game last night (and late night = late morning).  We got last minute box tickets, which were perfect because there was floor to crawl on, it wasn’t as loud as the stadium seating, and there were plenty of ladies one box over for Chance to flirt with through the glass.  When he wasn’t watching the game intently, of course. Everyone was quite impressed that we had a 10-month-old fan in the making.  But I think it’s more akin to watching fish in a tank… all those players skating around on the ice seen from up high, not to mention the lightshow and the crazy fans chanting and waving their arms; it should hold a baby’s attention.  Oh yeah, and the zambonis were a big hit.

I have a list of things I’ve been meaning to write/post about that I haven’t gotten to, including an update of the Things They Don’t Tell You list (and if anyone has additions they’d like to add please feel free to email me or comment) and Baby Palmistry (you’re intrigued already, aren’t you?).  But right at the moment, I need a catnap.  Here’s a couple of pics from last night instead.            - wg



A Little Scared

I’ve been looking into playgroups recently, for my sanity and Chance’s socialization.  There is this neat organization locally that puts together moms (and dads) and kids by age group and location (which they call “clubs”).  For example, there is a neighborhood club of kids born in 2005.  The neighborhoods they cover are fairly large so that they cover a good region and with a lot of people joined, they can have a lot of activities.  The closest club to me has about 50 members with various activities and even smaller playgroups once you meet people. Once you contact a club you have 30 days to check ‘em out before coughing up any membership dough.  So cool beans, right?  They give you an opportunity to meet and greet and if you really don’t click with anyone they also give you a chance to look at other clubs in the area.  (There are three possible clubs I can check out that aren’t too far.)

I’m talking to this really nice woman on the phone; the organizer of the group.  Super nice, did I mention that?  She’s telling me about all the activities and this is when I start to get a little nervous…

“And as well as the Walks and Park Days, we also have a monthly Girls’ Night Out and those are a lot of fun.  Sometimes it’s Bunko Night, or Scrapbooking Night, but I think next month…”

It was as she said “Bunko” and “Scrapbooking” that my little internal monitor started beeping.  Understand, I have nothing against either of these things.  I have heard of Bunko.  I know it’s a game, and I’m pretty sure it involves buns and kos, but I have NO IDEA how to play.  I’ve actually tried to scrapbook in the past… it didn’t go well. This is not to say that I’m not a crafty person.  I do consider myself a crafter and pretty damn good with my hands.  I just do different crafts than scrapbooks.  I do jewelry work.  I’ve been doing jewelry work since high school when I took my first metal-smithing class.  And maybe it’s got something to do with burning stuff with a propane torch but jewelry work and scrapbooking are pretty different.  I seem to have a mental block with scrapbooks.  It’s not the decorating part; I can do that, sort of, like the covers and so on (and I’ve even pilfered the components to work into jewelry pieces).  It’s the photos.  I just can’t seem to do anything with photos beyond taking the pictures and printing them out.  I certainly can’t think up great text to post around the page (which is funny in itself considering I’m a book and words person) or themed doodads to go with each photo.  I can stick them in frames and/or I can throw them into a photo box with a labeled index card, but that’s about it.  (The baby photo album I started is… well, it’s just in a sad state right now, OK?  And no, none of the grandmas have gotten their “brag books”.)

So anyway.  (I’m blathering on, I know.)  It was those words that started to scare me, just because there’s only so many playgroup events and if I’m already obviously not following the Usual Mom Hobbies & Interests then… well… I’m a little worried.  You know, things to talk about, things to do together, blah blah blah.  Clique defining things (not that I’m very pro-cliquish, but the point IS to hang out with someone).  Oh yeah, and ALL the activities so far (except for Girls’ Night Out) are set up for the mornings.  NOT a strong time of day for me.  (Or Chance for that matter, his nap time coincides with all the Park Days.) 

But I’m gonna give it a go.  Maybe after I get to know a few ladies I can ask the real question… is there an afternoon playgroup for disaffected poet fashionistas?  ‘Cause I think I would fit in great with THAT group.        – the weirdgirl

24 – Cue the Music

I’ve been catching up on my Tivo this weekend.  I had quite a backlog going.  So I just finished watching the second 2-hour segment of 24.  I know this show has a huge following and in general I think the show is pretty good.  However, I do have a few issues with the show. 

First of all, I HATE HATE HATE Derrick (or Derek or whatever cutesy way to spell Dereck is in vogue now)!  For some reason the producers of 24 feel it is necessary to make every teenager on the show look like they’re strung out on drugs or a prostitute.  But that, though I find generally irksome as I don’t think all teenagers either look or should be depicted as druggie hookers, is beside the point… I just hate Derrick.  And I know he won’t just quietly fade away.  We’re going to have see Derek’s earnest, greasy mug popping up throughout the entire season of the show as he gets into places he shouldn’t be and Jack tries to valiantly protect his stupid ass.  And dude, wash your fucking hair.

Second, the music.  I understand the mechanics of using music and sound effects to enhance the emotional intensity of a given scene.  However, when those same sound effects and music are played non-stop for the entire show they lose their effect.  I find I am either numb to the music or, and more often, I am TOTALLY FUCKING IRRITATED about ten minutes in.  Seriously, it’s not making my heart pound in anticipation.  I’ve seen the show for how many seasons now?  I know Jack is gonna be shooting people and running around without stopping to eat or pee for hours on end.  He’s also probably gonna die a couple of times and be brought back to life.  OK, I get it.  I don’t need continuous music to remind me Jack’s life is intense or how to feel.

Thirdly, character development on this show is… let’s be honest, pretty damn light.  Please don’t expect me to empathize and/or care deeply for the woman we saw for, like, five seconds at breakfast because she’s now hysterical that her dumb, greasy-haired son (who doesn’t listen to her BTW) is now a hostage.  And yes, when that music swells and we’re supposed to be wiping away our tears of relief I know I can’t be the only one rolling her eyes.   

So those are my sacrilegious issues.  All of that aside I do actually like the show and I’ll be watching it this season.  But, for me, it’s far from perfect.  For those of you waiting to lynch me please take a number and I’ll call you when your turn comes up.  I’ll even have a soundtrack.         – the weirdgirl

Machine go vroom

Oooh, I just ordered me a Roomba!  *cackle cackle – wrings hands together in glee*  For those of you unfamiliar with the Roomba it is a robotic vacuum.  It will vacuum your floors for you without you having to do anything.  I can’t wait to get my hands on this puppy.  We have an older home with wood floors, and between the cracks around windows and doors that happens with age and the lack of carpeting to camouflage dirt, there are a lot of dust bunnies necking in the shadowed corners of the rooms (like frickin’ teenagers, they are!).  I am so excited!  I envision gleaming floors, spotless rooms, the little robot trailing after the kid and the cats scooping up every crumb.  Oh beauty, thou name is technology.  I know this all seems very June Cleaver and I normally am NOT the type to get excited over cleaning products (I’d rather garden or tinker with shit), but if this saves me from having to vacuum every other fucking day I will be a very happy homemaker.  I may even put on a flippin’ apron!  (Probably won’t stay on, though, if Keen has anything to do with it.)

On other fronts, I’m STILL waiting for a new roof.  Blasted rain.  I just checked in with the roofers and they’re estimating another week and a half.  But MAYBE I’ll get the Roomba by the time they start!  A new roof should generate dust, right?   *bwa ha ha!*  Ah, new toys.  What’s more fun?         - the weirdgirl

Parental Hearing – The Oxymoron

"Having children is like having a bowling alley installed in your brain."
-- Alan Bleasdale (b. 1946), British playwright, novelist

These are the sounds I’ve become accustomed to:



*Da da da la la… shriek*

ding ding ding


smack smack

“I’m Pierre, need some air?” (toy)

*peals of laughter*

clunk clunk clunk




And that last, folks, is what makes me run.  Anything that would make such a small, quiet sound hitting the floor can surely be swallowed, jabbed in the eye, or stuck in some orifice it doesn’t need to be.

(You would think with all this running around that I would be in a lot better shape. But I just feel old, I tell you, OLD!)           - the weirdgirl