wanted to share this happy excerpt from a conversation with my bro last night:
"I feel kindof bad I always told you to shut up when you tried to sing. I hated it when you sang. Although, i pretty much hated everything you did when we were growing up."
I love you too, bro.
and all i can say is THANK GOD!!! Our house is a mess, our son's sleep schedule is even more fucked up than normal, and it's going to take me a hundred million hours to convert all of our music so i can put it on MY BRAND NEW iPOD!!!! Yes, that's right folks, my husband (with help from my mom and grandmom) bought me not only the ipod, but the itrip car thingy so i can listen to all of our TONS of music in the car! which is good, since we live a million miles from everywhere and i drive said car a lot. So, it's safe to say it was a good christmas. but i'm glad it's over. It got a little hairy when i was trying to make presents for everyone. For some reason i thought i could sew even though i haven't seen my 40 year old sewing machine since i was twelve. Couldn't let that stop me, though. had to make baby quilts, pjs, and a bathrobe for my sweetie. Most of them turned out ok, except jodi's pj's might fit a bit funny (sorry jodi!) and the husband's pj's still had a pin in the crotch, ouch!
The little guy definitely enjoyed his christmas. he's already figuring out how to open presents, and he just loved scooting around on the floor in the pile of wrapping paper. He seems a bit bored with his toys now that the wrapping paper is gone. I think all that christmas fun might have raised his expectations for entertainment around this house a bit too high. I hope he doesn't expect that kind of fun all the time now! he got a ton of presents from his grandparents, great aunts and uncles, and super cool blocks from his cous-aunt and a whole box of musical instruments from his uncle. he already started beating himself up with the tambourine. it was sort of... musical. :P
Good times.
Gotta run before the little guy wakes up. Hope you all had a merry christmas/hannakuh/whatever you celebrate!
So, the other day I was reading this post, and it really hit home for me. Well, sortof. It's not so much that our son kicks me in the balls, or even that he kicks his dad in the balls (which would make slightly more sense and require less explanations as to how I gave birth to him), but rather, it got me thinking about the damage our son seems intent upon inflicting on his own balls. And penis, for that matter. You see, about a week ago while he was in the bath, he discovered that he could grab his balls. And he does. RELIGIOUSLY. Every night. Oh, and his father gives him his nightly bath. Bathtime in this household has been renamed Fun With Scrotum Time. Fun for babies, maybe. But definitely NOT fun for dads. My poor husband sits in there watching the spectacle, trying to distract our son from yanking, squishing, and generally mangling his balls. All the while feeling the pain his son should be feeling. Doen't bother him, though. He smiles and giggles the whole time.
So, I guess we should just resign ourselves to never having grandchildren. At least none sired by our firstborn. *sigh*
sorry so quiet. stupid husband's place of work is evil. Latest evidence as such? his boss told him yesterday that his office looks too comfortable and organized. it doesn't look like anyone actually works in it. So he has to take out his nice indirect lighting, take down all his pictures of our beautiful boy, and sit in a nasty shithole all day. we're not bitter. not. bitter. at. all. Sooooo, now we're both looking for jobs, and whoever finds one first, the other will stay home with our little boy.
Oh, and they gave him that promotion, but they want him to work 20 more hours per week, for only $10k more per year. which, if you do the math, equates to a $4 per hour paycut. BASTARDS.
I'll try to write more later. When i'm not busy looking for jobs. Yuck. Or, working on christmas projects. Which might be slightly more fun.
so our little boy mastered sitting up yesterday! he's so excited, and now he can play even more with his favorite new schoolbus toy our friends gave him. He's a happy guy. Oh, and then his cous-aunt came over and rubbed her icky germs all over him under the guise of "playing." See if she's allowed over again. Even if she does bring sims. or pink m-n-m's. or both. well, maybe then she could come over...
P.S. Today, i was putting the little guy down for a nap, and he somehow managed to completely remove his pants while i wasn't looking. tricky. very boy-like. takes after his father, i think.
This is the story of my yesterday.
Yesterday, I was all excited because I got to go shopping with my $50 birthday money i got from my Grandma. Since a friend from Montana had called wanting me to go to Forever 21, the best store on the planet when you're poor but want to be stylish, I figured I'd spend my money there. So in honor of said shopping trip, I took a shower. I even shaved my legs. Wait, it gets better: I combed my hair! (there's more) I STYLED my hair! Put on my sexy jeans, black boots, cute black sweater and that pink jacket that matches my glasses, natch. For all intents and purposes, I was looking !soooOOOooo GooooOOOoooOOOd
So, properly dressed and coiffed, off to the mall with me! While at said mall, everyone came up to check out the lad and comment on how cute/big he is. Of course! (the cuteness he gets from me. The bigness, I dunno...) All the while my mom and I keep commenting 'we need to change his diapers, he smells like pee." So we change him, and I swear, i still smell pee. By now, you can probably guess where I'm going with this...
So I'm trying to figure out, did i grab pants for him that weren't really clean? they were in the clean pile... hmm...
Not until i was giving him a bath did i realize, the smell was coming from ME! That's right, he had peed on my sexy jeans a few days ago, and I promptly put them in the laundry bin to be washed. But then yesterday, I though, where are my sexy jeans (having only one pair that look good post-pregnancy)? And i found them no place other than the laundry basket. Quick toss in the dryer to remove the wrinkles and I was set, right? WRONG!!! So, I stank like pee all day. Fun.
Best part of the story? Just as I'm figuring out the pee smell is coming from me, The Husband walks in and wearing his favorite sweater which the lad puked on last week. I asked if he had washed it before wearing it, which he hadn't. Thought I had. When I explained it was still dirty with baby puke, he replied, 'so that's why the guys thought i had cum on my shirt!
The End
I mean everything.
wanna know why? because i wrote a whole blog about our sleep victory. Sacha always finds out when mommy's been stupid and finds ways to punish her appropriately. How so, you ask? By not sleeping AT ALL, i answer. He's decided (again) that nothing, NOTHING, I SAID NOTHING but the boobie will do. He WILL NOT sleep without my nipple stuffed in his mouth. No, he doesn't want a pacifier. No, he's not hungry. He just wants that nipple. And he wants it bad. Sorta reminds me of his dad on our second date, but I digress.
Luckily, my sister-in-law felt so bad for our little sleep-deprived one, she took it upon herself to order us some sleep books from Amazon. I'm counting the minutes until they arrive. Counting the seconds, actually. Someone out there has got to have the solution to our problem. And as long as that solution doesn't involve any more screaming (the baby OR the parents), I look forward to trying it.
1. I've noticed a strange compulsion I have. When there are tastey baked goods in the house, which there are (is?) likely to be at this time of year, I have to eat them ALL. To save myself from eating them later. Does that make any sense? It does to me at the time, when I'm eating all the sweets.
2. My son puked in my open mouth today. Now I must eat more baked goods to remove the puke taste. It's gross.
You're a girl power mommy! You love to be girly,
but you're no pushover. Your kids are learning
that gender differences don't have to mean
gender inequality. You've taken back pink, and
you don't care who knows it!
What kind of a freaky mother are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
I hate those mommies who use their children as an excuse for why they never have time for anything. They suck. Really, i mean, kids aren't that much work. You feed 'em, you let them roll around on the floor, preferrably not in their own filth, (that one's really a judgement call, you gotta do what you feel is right) and you get them to sleep . So when I hear stay at home mom's say "I just don't have the time for that, I'm so busy with my kid," I think, what is wrong with you, loser? I mean, I can have a baby, work part time, plan and execute the most perfect, beautiful, pink wedding, all while schlepping around an infant, so what are you complaining about? But, hey, everyone can't be as perfect as I am, right?
That said, i just don't have the time to properly capitalize and punctuate. Or spell check, for that matter. I mean, I've got a kid, remember?!?! So you grammar nazis out there (and you know who you are), read at your own risk.
So... I'm all jazzed today (yes, i said jazzed- i really am turning into my mother) because I got the extreme pleasure of sleeping for almost three continuous hours last night. THREE!!! Yes that's right, my son is the sleep champion! All you losers out there whose babies sleep through the night can kiss my ass. Because unlike you, I can revel in the succes; bathe in the glory of the hard-fought victory that is 3 HOURS OF SLEEP people! (person?) I mean, if it only took three weeks to get this far, what's next? By the time he's three he might sleep for an entire night. And fighting the battle makes victory taste that much sweeter.
And now that i'm beginning to see that I can train him to sleep, there seem to be endless possibilities for other things I can train him to do. Mommy's ready for another cocktail, sweetie!
So, about this blog thing.... like, what am I supposed to say, anyway? I know, today, we'll start my very own book club! This week's book recommendation is The Vice Guide to Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll. It contains many touching stories, but there's one in particular I think deserves to be shared this evening. It's a heartwarming tale of a girl named Aliza, and her 'friend' Luther. Luther is a dildo. Luther gets stuck up her ass. It's priceless. Seriously, check it out. I can't really relate to it on a personal level, having never had a dildo stuck up my ass, but i can imagine it's sort of... not good.
PS- if you're my mom reading this - um... sorry. I promise to talk about less obscene things as time goes on. it's just, well, i'm still getting the hang of this blog thing.
And so begins my new adventure into blogging. I'll begin with this excerpt from a conversation with my husband last night:
Me: "babe, I think I really might be pregnant again."
Husband of me: "then we should fuck more now. because we can."
And that, dear readers (reader?) is a summation of the most perfect marriage there ever was.
more to come later...