Things We Don't Say (Because Mommies Are Nice)

New life, New blog

2011-05-27T06:18:00.002-05:00

hey kiddos....So a lot has changed and I felt it was time to start blogging again, but time to start fresh and new with it. If you care to keep up with my ramblings, please come see me at "Life In MY Lane". Click on the title of this post and it will tak you right to it! See ya there (hopefully!)

Things I'm Not Ashamed Of

2010-07-21T19:40:00.003-05:00

As if you care, but in case you do, now you know that I am not ashamed of.....

1. Having partied myself out of college the first time. I enjoyed the mess out of my 20's, and learned a ton about life. Like - a glass of water, 2 Advil and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is the best way to ward off a hangover. Poison Control told me that. Why was I talking to poison control? I was in my 20's. It was a girl's night. Put two and two together and I'm sure you will figure it out.

2. Keeping my head in the books the SECOND time around. I graduated with honors. Of course the day after I graduated I couldn't figure out how to get the paper towel roll on the holder....but hey...I graduated...WITH HONORS.

3. Being 32 and having the most bizarre phobias known to man. Let's see...there's the Easter Bunny, cruise ships, and anyone dressed up in a costume where you can't see their face. If you've ever been to a college football game with me, or to the mall during the holidays, you have been privy to the spectacle I become. If you have not witnessed it.....oh boy...it's something to write home about, that's for sure. I will just tell you this, it involves hyperventilating, raging panic, possibly some pants peeing, tears, and maybe a scream or two. I kid you not. It's epic.

4. Putting my daughter first in all that I do. Even though it meant making the tough decision to become a single mom, some things are just necessary. It's tough, but ummm...wasn't Wonder Woman a single mom? Isn't that how she got her name? If she wasn't, she is now.

5. Acting a complete ASS at the risk of others pointing and laughing. I could care less what that 21 year old Lady Gaga wannabe thinks of me as I robot dance to the beat. Or challenge the cutest boy in the club to an old skool dance off. I will roger rabbit all OVER that ass, and dare her to say somethin'..Life is much too short to be so serious all the time...hell, to be so serious even 50% of the time...sometimes (and some people) just need to loosen up...do the hustle in Target...up and down the aisles...and then running man through the check out...it's really fun!

6. Telling other people's kids that are acting a hot mess in restaurants that Santa Claus is watching them through the sprinkler system. I have never seen kids sit down, shut up and act right so fast in my life! Everyone should get to enjoy a nice meal out with out having someone else's kids french fries landing on THEIR plate. I'm just doing my part.

7. And lastly, I'm not ashamed to currently be using your (and MY) tax dollars to take care of my daughter. After a series of INCREDIBLY unfortunate events I lost my job last month. This has forced me to apply for food stamps, apply for SSI for my daughter, continue to utilize my WIC benefits, and collect the little unemployment I get. Yes, this college educated (with HONORS, DAMMIT)woman is currently out of work, having a bit of trouble finding NEW work, and is doing her damndest to make ends meet. I don't eat out. I don't drive unnecessarily. And I don't get my nails or hair done with the little money I do have. I clip coupons to make my foodstamps last. I try to do the driving I NEED to do either early in the morning or after the sun has gone down to conserve. I am doing EVERYTHING I CAN to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table. And thanks be to God that I have not been late on a utility bill or my mortgage since I lost my job....going on two months now.

I recently heard it said that a mom may not do what she WANTS to do, but she will always do what she HAS to do. Well, I guess that's where I'm at then...doing what I HAVE to do. And I'm not the least bit ashamed.

Now, has anyone seen my cape?

Things I'm Not Ashamed Of

2010-07-21T19:40:00.002-05:00

Mommy's Lemonade Stand

2010-07-19T08:16:00.002-05:00

Hello everyone. My name is Mommy. And I'm single.

Hi Mooooommmmmyyyyyyy.

That's what I imagined in my head when faced with the reality of being a newly single mom. But of course, me and anonymous don't exactly go hand in hand. In case you haven't heard, I'm kind of a BIG DEAL! Yes, I did think about going out and buying a fake wedding ring so I wouldn't have to endure the stares (or perceived stares) at my lefthandringfinger, then inevitably lead to a glance at my child, and then back to me. But why?? Why would I PRETEND that I have a man holdin' it down for me, when I am holdin' it down pretty damn tight?? Not to say that men are not necessary beings (kinda can't have kids without them...and they fix things), or even WANTED beings (if you have ever seen Dwayne Johnson without a shirt on then you know just what I'm talkin' about), but for ME....RIGHT NOW....AT THIS POINT IN MY LIFE...a man just isn't an option...and to be quite honest....I'm selfish....I want allllll the credit on this one....buahahahahaaaaaa

Okay, so yeah...I toot my own horn sometimes but right now, I kind of have to! Life has handed me a big giant sack of lemons. I mean seriously - I could probably make lemon meringue pies every day for the rest of my life for every country on the planet with this one....and if I were a certain kind of person, I could complain about it all day long. But I have learned that when life hands you lemons, you don't just stand there staring at them, because at the end of the day they're still just lemons. They won't bump their lemon knuckles together like the Wondertwins and activate themselves into a martini. Or click their lemon heels together and turn into an amazing lemon yellow Prada purse with matching heels and an amazing LBD to boot. Nope. They will just sit there, being just what they are - sour lemons. You gotta peel them, zest them, slice them, wedge them, and squeeze the HELL out of those damn lemons. Then and ONLY THEN will you get something truly amazing out of the sour batch life has given you.

So....in the name of the sourest batch I have ever gotten, I'm off to make lemon bars. And perhaps after I put the munchkin down tonight I'll have a lemon drop martini.

All I'm sayin' is this....don't expect to see a pucker face on this mommy...my life's comin' up pine sol lemon-y fresh - even if I get lemon juice in my eye ('cuz you know...that stings and all).....

Nothing To Say

2010-01-25T20:58:00.002-06:00

i am still here but life is attempting to swallow me....do yourselves a favor people....take care of your health...and nag the hell out of your spouses until they do the same....

knowledge of life's timestamp is shitty knowledge...

These are a few of my favorite things.......

2009-12-20T23:34:00.008-06:00

(tap tap tap)

hello?? is this thing on???

YEAAAAAAHHHHHHH BITCHEEEEEESSSSSSSS!!!! I'M BACK! AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO YA!!!

Yeah yeah I know....I've been out for a hot minute - but truthfully, my life has been turned upside down and inside out since oh, I don't know...OCTOBER!!!

But it seems as though things are slowly begninning to turn around for the positive....and so in keeping on this positive note, I am going to share with you some of my absolute favorite Christmas ornaments. My munchkin is waaaaayyyy too young to have made me one yet (although I suppose we could bronze and hang one of her poopy diapers - however, that is...ummmmm....what's the term I'm lookin for??? oh yeah.....NASTY ASS!!!!

So with that being said, all of my ornaments are store bought...but they are sweet, sentimental, and super special to me....hope you enjoy....

for Grandmother...she fought to the very end...love you always

3 weeks ago today 8 asked me to marry him....since I'd already bought the ornament I thought it a good idea to say yes...hahaha...just kidding....I bought the ornament the NEXT day....

ahhh...yeah so we did things backwards....who cares...have you SEEN my munchkin..I'll do things backwards over and over again if I was guaranteed that kind of love every time...THIS is one of my favorite ornaments!

ummmm HE-LLO!!! HOW COULD I NOT????

this is a pic of one of my dearest, and most adored friends....because we are actually cute in this pic, I know we weren't drunk yet....but we WERE pre-partying....ahhhh...the good old days....now pre-partying = licking the beaters clean of cupcake mix for a kids birthday party....

So there ya have it lovelies...oh and did I mention I JUST put the tree up today....and I have done NO Christmas shopping whatsoever.....hahahahahaha

hahahahahahhahahahaaaaaaa

hahahaha

WAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!

hack hack hack....clean air beware

2009-11-07T17:54:00.004-06:00

i'm almost done dying folks...should be back tomorrow - for reals.....in the meantime check out supah's face on "Love My Glog" (previous post).....it looks like a vision of mrs. potato head on a bad acid trip...lo(hack hack hack) l.....miss you guys....love you more....

but don't breathe my air..u don't want none o'this.....

OH AND BEFORE I FORGET.....

please go and show my very best real life friend michelle rooney some serious bloggy love....she is following her passsion for photography and is seriously talented with kiddies......love love LOVE ON HER....

if u don't i'll breathe on you, spit in your tea and lick every spoon u own.....just kidding....or am i?

http://michellerooneyphotography.blogspot.com

Love My Glog

2009-11-06T11:42:00.002-06:00

Dear Friends of My Name is Mommy :

( I can fucking hear my husband peeing upstairs right now.. that is so damn gross. )

That’s just a perrrrrfect fucking way to start off my GUEST BLOGGER POST a.k.a. Glogger post for my friend whose name is Mommy. Just about as perfect as droppin the F bomb 2x in one post intro.

This is MY ONE CHANCE at fame… and I’ve already been done gone and fucked it the hell mess up.

Shit.. 3times.

So : for those of you who need an intro to the enigma that is SupahMommy… here I am. In all my glory. I am a mommy of 2 wait.. shit.. 3.. I actually just typed 2! SOMEONE slap me! I’m My Name Is Mommy’s ( MNIM) favorite ever ever ever blog land friend.

( I can type whatever the hell I want… cause she's not here!) MNIM has crawled off o' her death bed to send me a smoke signal…

GLOG

SUPAH

headed

TOWARDS

the

LIGHT

must

post

SOMETHING

It was an awful lot of smoke. I told her she couldn’ve just fucking emailed.( 4x) . it would’ve been easier.. but hey. She’s a drama queen. So I put on my supah cape, stopped what I was doing ( feeding my baby) and rushed over here to serve you all with my stupidness.

You see folks: she is swimming in bronchitis or some drama llama shit like that. I think she gots the swine. I hope you all wore your facemasks and hazmats for your stop over here. I’m not sure if she lysoled this shit down. * insert not so sure face

I’m safe though.. you see..

I been done got the swine.

So I’ll do the typing for her. Since she’s hacking up lungs and stuff it’s the least I could do.

I figured I’d come on over and mess her place up… take some silly pictures with her camera and post them for you to laugh at until her return. So wish her well. Don’t breath any of her air germs and enjoy the pics AND the GLOG POST J

Xoxo

supah

Here are some pics courtesy of my mac Photobooth.

Just kidding. I only look like that when I gots the "swine." Poot MNIM.. she probably looks like that now too!

Here's my REAL glog. HAVE A GREAT SWINE FREE DAY FOLKS! Stop over and see me sometimes.. ROWWWWLLLL ! **** I was brutally and maliciously attacked last evening and I am reporting it HERE on this blog before I take my story public to all of the land. FUCKIN A. I stopped at the big bird, our local overpriced grocery store, that reels me in easily everytime, to grab some items after work last night. As any good citizen, should, I returned my damn shopping cart to it's rightful corral about 10 car slots up from my vehicle. Ran up there in the FA- REEEZING cold of night... gave it a BIG ASS SHOVE .. saw the effer head into the corral all by it's lonesome. Promptly headed back to my vehicle. Which happened to be my husband's BRAND NEW JEEP GRAND CHEROKEE. Got back in. Put the car in reverse. Looked ahead actually, oddly.. into the window of the vehicle parked in front of me. There was actually a driver in the car. I smiled politley cause I'm a friendly sorts and thought nothing of her oddly wide eyes. Turned my head, began a slow backup for takeoff... and off to my right out of the back side window.. when what to my wandering eyes do appear? Headed DIRECTly TOWARDS my vehicle, that is again not mine. On a slow and meticulous track toward my rear side panel. Like some stripped down version of Carrie- the killer car that gave me nightmares at age 12. That fucking shopping cart. Slow mo we go. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. screams supah from the confines of her vehicle.. frozen .. unable to move due to her inability to think through situations of emergency kinds.... Says the shopping cart from the depths of hell, reaching a maxium speed of 8 miles per hour... " YEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS." Bang. Nothing I could do. Old Wide eyes ( person in vehicle in front of me) connected with me for a moment before I winced and got out of my car. THANKS FOR THE WARNING jack ass! COULDN'T YOU HAVE signed TO ME THAT IS WAS COMING? I know sign language for pete's sake. At least the alphabet. Maybe written as sign in lipstick ON YOUR WINDOW??? Sent off a CARRIER pigeon to bring me A NOTE TELLING ME THAT THE CART WAS HEADED DIRECTLY FOR MY HUSBANDS NEW CAR????? UGHHH. So.. I get out. Run around to check the damage.. annnnnnnnnnnnnnnd.... as always... there's more. THAT FUCKING CARRIE CART... bounced off of my car and was headed.. WHERE YOU ASK???? DIRECTLY TOWARDS WIDE EYES VEHICLE. So I signed to her.. IN MY BEST SIGN LANGUAGE SKILLS. "Hey.. JACK ASS... you know that cart you didnt' tell me about.. the one that hit my husbands brand new car? Yeah that one.. WEll it's headed for your headlights. " And I got in my car and left. xoxox© supah

dont' forget about:

bLerApy blog - anon-y-mous bloggin

Writers' Roundup - creative writing group ( assignment due NOv 11th)

skyping with supah - speak to supah and be featured on her blog * NEW

and supah's last giveaway! Pet Festival!- night light, id tags, doggy vests and books

Tiptoeing All Around

2009-10-22T18:13:00.003-05:00

I think perhaps I may be a horrible, horrible human being. 8's grandmother is tiptoeing the line between the clouds and the land. We have been told that she will be dead by Monday at the very latest. And 8 has asked me to come with him to her home tomorrow. Of course I will go. Not only because I adore his grandmother, but because I love him with every ounce of life that courses through my veins. And with every ounce of life that is leaving hers.

But I am selfish.

I am horrible.

I don't want to go.

I absolutely do NOT want to watch death steal life from this woman.

I absolutely do NOT want to watch death push and prod and pull on everyone's heartstrings....teasing us....taunting us....bringing us to the brink of relief and soulful pain time and time again, only to laugh in our face and say "no, not yet...i'm not ready for her yet"

I do not want to sit in the house and listen to death slowly rob her from us, breath by shallow breath

I do not want to sit and watch life die

It is selfish of me. I know this. Because I am not thinking of 8 in this equation of birth + first breath = life and life + last breath = death.

I have watched death tip toe, jump, run rampant, and sprint through the people I love. I do not feel like I can do this again. Every encounter scrounges up memories of the last encounter, and while rumor has it that it is supposed to get easier as you get older, it is just that - a rumor.

Death will never be easy for me. I will never accept death as the norm. I will never accept death as the norm. I will never accept death as the norm.

Cancer, I hate you.

Death, go away. and don't come back. not even on a rainy day. don't come back. don't come back.

Don't.
Come.
Back.

POST IT OR SUCK IT!

2009-10-20T20:42:00.011-05:00

and last but surely not least......

SEE YOU WEDNESDAY!!!!

If I Can't Blog Tomorrow It's Because My Hands Caught On Fire

2009-10-20T19:45:00.006-05:00

Yep. You read right. There is a very real possibility that my hands could spontaneously combust tomorrow.

For those of you that don't know, which is probably most of you because I recently went MIA for about two weeks - I GOT A J-O-B!!!! I am no longer filled with the guilt of a catholic hooker. I am a contributing part of my household, and yes, I am thrilled to be paying taxes once again. Weird, right? It's like that high you get when your period FINALLY shows up after being one minute late. You know that feeling - well, not you Ethanblippity-blop or Steve Anthony....at least I hope you guys don't. But anyhoo, yes...mama got a job. BUT.....it's in a bridal salon.

Now this is a VERY GOOD THING FOR ME.

But a VERY BAD THING for my honey.

Because see, he has yet to adorn my left handringfingerjustbelowthesecondknuckle with a shiny, sparkly bauble. Now yes, he has bought me a ring with diamonds.....and that's exactly what it is... A RING WITH DIAMONDS. A beautiful ring with diamonds that I absolutely LOVE, but if you're breathing and you're a girl and you've watched SATC a gazillion times, you know there is a difference between A RING WITH DIAMONDS and A DIAMOND RING.

Here is my ring with diamonds.....

It's beautiful. It's antique in style and fits me perfectly. I gasped when he gave it to me last Christmas. I love my ring with diamonds.

However, I'm a mom to HIS kid now. We live together. We talk about THAT day as if it's just around the corner. And now I work in a bridal salon. I promised myself I wouldn't touch any of the dresses because I knew that would be the end of me. All so called patience would run screaming from my body and I would end up a hot mess, crying every day saying "why won't he marry me" (and I swear if anyone makes that stupid cow and milk reference I will say very not nice things about you in blogland....even if I have to make them up...and I have a VERY good imagination). But then this conversation took place with my boss before I left today....

Me: Ok....So I'll see you tomorrow.

Him: Yep. Big day for you. You're trying on dresses tomorrow.

Me: I'm sorry. Did you say I'm trying on dresses tomorrow?

Him: Yes ma'am.....and veils and tiara's too.

Me: (lookin' like a deer trapped in approaching headlights) Ahhhh...ok...see you tomorrow!

Me in my head: ohshitohshitohshitohshit......what the eff....what the freakin' eff....I haven't TOUCHED a wedding dress in 4.5 years ON PURPOSE.....crapcrapcrapcrapCRAP!!!!!

I haven't told my honey this is happening tomorrow. He knows it will happen at some point in my training but he doesn't know tomorrow is the day. I haven't told him because if he responds with "Ha! Have fun with that" and I punch him in the mouth out of sheer reflex, I might go to jail. And I don't want him raising the munchkin without me. He might send her off to school one day with a giant, nappy mess for hair, and I can't have my girl lookin' like she's homeless. She's just too cute for that. And honestly, I'm too cute for jail. I ain't tryin' to be nobody's bitch. I got my own bitches.....heeeeeeeyyyyyyy bitcheeeeeeesssssssss...ya'll know who you are.....

So anyways, if I don't blog tomorrow, it's most likely because my hands caught on fire after touching a wedding ensemble. Which I suppose would save my honey the trouble of having to replace my ring with diamonds with a DIAMOND RING.

I keep mentioning that in the hopes that he might decide to actually read this post sometime in the near future and feel a sense of urgency to make a shiny, sparkly purchase for my lefthandringfingerjustbelowthesecondknuckle. Should he get hit with such inspiration, here is a little help.....

Something like this, or even this one in particular, would look a-freakin-mazing on my lefthandringfingerjustbelowthesecondknuckle. I'm just sayin'.....

But then again, if my hands catch on fire, he won't have to worry about that will he....

unless it comes in an ultra fabulous toe ring......

please ladies...like u wouldn't......don't front.....

I NEVER MET A MARTINI THAT TURNED ME AWAY......MEME MONDAY MY WAY

2009-10-19T21:25:00.012-05:00

I would like to preface this by saying that this is THE BEST drinking game on the planet.....

I NEVER.......

1. regret eating an entire pint of Ben n Jerry's Chubby Hubby ice cream in one sitting.....to regret that is the equivalent of regretting great sex......ITS JUST PLAIN ASANINE!!! However, if forced to choose one day between the great sex and the great ice cream....oooohhhhh...I think the ice cream just might win....can't get sweat in your eye eating ice cream (and isnt that just the WORST!!! SWEAT IN THE EYE - EW!)

2. have seen a James Bond movie either, Supah. Nor have I seen any of the Star Wars films. And I have no desire too either. In my opinion...SNORING-BORING!

3. ever ever ever in life found Denzel Washington to be the slightest bit attractive. I think there must be some unwritten code somewhere that as a breathing female I am supposed to just lose all composure and have orgasms on command when his horse grin shows up on the screen...but ahhhh....yeah - not so much for me. Now let Idris Elba pop up and the panties come DOWN! He is one tall glass of SLAP YO MAMA HE'S FINE!

4. never really understood the "mama bear" syndrome people talk about when women have babies - until I had one. I would tear someone to itty bitty pieces if they EVER hurt the munchkin - physically or emotionally. I have come to realize that in this arena, I will be THAT mom. The neck roll and "I wish you would" tone of Clair Huxtable, paired with the slightly neurotic tendencies of Rosie Perez in "Do The Right Thing". Except not so nasally.

+ =

5. have had the balls to admit that......ahhhhh.....some things are better left a secret....so let's just say i've never admitted SOMETHING in life....and I'm not about to start coming clean now....

SORRY SUCKAAAAAAAASSSSSSSS!!!!!!!

My Life in Rewind

2009-10-16T07:19:00.003-05:00

What a week, what a week! Would anyone like to switch places.....i'm kinda cute and my honey is a hottie...have a cute kid and awesome neighbors.....well....don't talk to the nosey nelly across the street....she's so nosey she can tell you what color underwear you have on....but otherwise - please let's do a little swap.....ONLY IF THIS SWAP INVOLVES LOTS OF VODKA, A BEACH, BALMY WEATHER, AND A HOT CABANA BOY NAMED PAULO.

No?? Nobody? Ugh. You guys suck.

So here's my week in review....

Monday - got dolled up for a job interview. Job pays well but OMG I would probably blow my brains out on DAY ONE! The place is soooooo quiet. And I'd be answering phones - ALL DAY. It made me think that if I worked there I would pee my pants AT MY DESK just to have something to talk about/laugh about/cause a raucous about. Of couurse THAT would get me fired, so I left deciding that job was definitely NOT for me. HOWEVER, when I got home from THAT interview I received a phone call from a bridal shop I had interviewed at and HEY HEY YA'LL...YA'LL CAN STOP LIGHTIN' THOSE CATHOLIC PRAYER CANDLES CUZ MAMA GOT A J-O-B!!!! Hells yeah bitcheeeeeeeessssssssss!!!!! I get to dress brides-to-be in beautiful dresses ALL DAY LONG!!! This is soooo up my alley - I am thrilled beyond all belief!

Tuesday - drove to Austin to say "see you when I get there" to my honey's grandmother. She is currently dying from cancer. I will say this - it is a blessing and a curse that this is the first time I have encountered cancer close up and in my face. And you know what - I HATE CANCER! And I don't hate anything in life - mom always said "don't use the word 'hate' - it's a strong word"...so I have lived by that rule my entire life. But I'm saying it - I HATE CANCER. It's ugly, horrible, evil - satan's incarnate. I have never sat by someone's side and just STARED at their chest, willing it to rise one more time...praying for on more heave of labored breath....and then having my own breathing stop when hers stops - only to realize it's just a pause. Torn between wanting her pain to come to an end praying for Jesus to come take her, and selfishly not wanting to let her go. I watched death tip-toe around her room all day long. I will say it again. Sorry mom but I HATE CANCER.

Wednesday - Slept alllllll daaaaaaaayyyyyyyy loooooooonnnnnnnnggggggggg. Me, honey, and munchkin. We were EXHAUSTED!

Thursday - I will lovingly call this "fat ass shopping day" because that is EXACTLY what it was. I headed out to our lovely Premium Outlets (which is waaaayyyy too close to my house - bad things happen to my wallet there) to purchase some new clothes for work. Somehow, I have managed to hold on to this baby weight. Mind you, the munchkin was born 5 MONTHS AND 2 DAYS AGO....but I've decided to hold on to the weight. Nostalgia? Souvenir? Lovely parting gift? Whatever it is, I'm so over it. I don't think it's normal for a tummy to look like a grocery bag. I really don't. So anyway - went shopping and found a FETCH cheetah print pencil skirt that comes up high enough to cover the love handles and gives the illusion of a svelte waist. I would take a picture of it and paste it on here, but I might have to hunt down and kill the first commenter that made any reference to it being a table cloth. So to save my time in jail for something that really matters (like offing my ex-husband - JUST KIDDING), I will just let you imagine it. Trust me - it's FABULOUS! Then, when I thought all else had failed (and was ready to tear my maternity jeans to shreds), I tried on a pair of "Hepburn" jeans by Liz Claiborne.

OMG!!!
Let me say it again.
O.M.F.G!!!

If you a carrying aroung a badonka-donk worthy of setting a thanksgiving turkey on - you have GOT to get these jeans!! If you are tired of your sig. other looking down the back of your jeans and saying "nice chonies" - you have GOT to get these jeans!! If you like BREATHING when you sit down in your jeans, and not getting light headed because your waistband is cutting off blood flow to your brain - YOU HAVE GOT TO GET THESE JEANS!!! Not to mention you will look damn hot while breathing and not passing out.

Sadly though, this is where the fun of trying on clothes ended. Nothing else quite worked. Perhaps I got as high as shoppingly possible with the jeans. Soooooo.......I guess I have only one option now. P90X here I come. Lord, please let me live through this death video.....

And now here we are - FRIDAY. FRIDAY FRIDAY FRIDAY. I'm up. I'm writing. Munchkin is sleeping. Waiting for honey to come back with my breakfast and coffee and then taking him to work. What does the day hold.....I know one thing it holds - LOTS OF WEAVE PATTING!!! Beyonce was NOT KIDDING when she told the ladies to "pat your weave" in the "Get Me Bodied" video. OMG. Beauty has a crazy price. Oh and why do you have to PAT your weave? Beacuse if you scratch your scalp you could loosen the weave and then look like a broke down NYC hooker. NOT A GOOD LOOK. Sooooooooo not a good look.

So there ya go - because I'm so sure my life is so freakin important that you MUST know about the goings ons....is that even a word?? I suppose my life would be more interesting if I were friends with Kate G. Then I could be all cool with her and then come back and give you all the juicy behind the scenes gossip. HAHAHAHAHA....no...I'm not that chic.

Anyhoo - ENJOY YOUR WEEKEND LOVELIES!!!

MeMe Monday - for my FRIEND Supah

2009-10-12T18:48:00.002-05:00

Sooooo...OMG HOW MUCH DO I LOOOOOOVVVVVEEEEEE FRIENDS????!!!!!!

As I read the prompts on Supah's page I found myself cracking up thinking about my fave episodes, the quotes I infuse into any conversation I can, and the way EVERYTHING related back to Friends back in the day....

I mean - who didn't have the "we were on a break" argument with their college boyfriend???

Who didn't have an evil neighbor like Mr. Heckles, or a hot neighbor like Paulo? (unlucky/lucky me - I DID!)

And didn't we all dress up like Princess Leia for our honey's? No? Yeah - me neither. There was no way my boob was fittin' in that mini funnel of a bra...but i certainly thought about it!

So for my contribution to MeMe Monday, I choose: WHICH FRIENDS CHARACTER ARE YOU MOST LIKE??

In my head I think Monica....I am neurotic. OCD to the nth degree. I organize my pantry. I alphabetize my spices. I have my ottoman strategically placed for optimum foot resting. My closet is organized by color, sleeve length and collar style. So in my head I.AM.MONICA.

IN REALITY, I AM PHOEBE. Through and through, I am Phoebe to the core. I make up stupid songs for EVERYTHING. I see the good in all people. I fall in love with boys that move away. I find the quirkiest ways to rationalize things so that they make sense in my head. I believe the spirit of my dad, best friend, and grandmother come to visit me in the form of butterflies whenever I'm feeling sad, or am confused. I think it's TOTALLY okay to run like a five year old through a park full of crowded people because I DON'T CARE WHAT OTHER PEOPLE THINK OF ME.

Truth be told, some friends of mine have actually nicknamed me Phoebe b/c of my nutty idiosyncrasies...go figure.

So to copy Supah - I guess I would PHOENICA...said with a long "o" and the "i" sounding like a long "e", it sounds like the name of a girl from the hood....

and my fave friends episode....gosh - there are so freakin many....I love the flashback episodes (Supah your post had me CRYING!!!! I imagined myself on the floor with Nenny just ACHING with laughter. If I ever meet DBD I am going to introduce myself as Tubbs)...the "we were on a break" episode is classic b/c it spawned the all time greatest comeback of all times...

Rachel: "Well it's NOT okay, and it DOESN'T happen to everybody!"
Chandler: "I KNEW IT!"

I think I peed my pants during that episode....I mean really - 13 pages front and back....FRONT AND BACK!!!

THE PROPOSAL. Ok. Tell the truth. Were you or were you NOT on your knees with Monica when she was asking Chandler to marry her?? Or did you or did you not cry right along with her when Chandler surprised HER?!

Ugh...I could go on and on....there are so many great Friends moments....but I can without falter that it will go down in my history book as one of the greatest show of all times....and I'm not a TV person...but there are three shows that I have religiously never missed - not even repeats...The Cosby Show, Friends, and Sex and The City.....

Ahhhhhh........where's my remote...I know ONE of these is on right now......

I Ain't Mr. Kotter, But Welcome Me Back, Dammit!

2009-10-11T16:02:00.004-05:00

Wow. Ok...2 weeks out and now I'm back. Honestly, I couldn't tell you why I stopped blogging for those couple of weeks. I wanted to. I thought about it. I drove around and thought to myself "ohhhh I gotta blog about this!", but never did. So I guess one could say that perhaps I had bloggers block.

So in an effort to catch you all up (as if you all really care because I am just that important) - here is my life in fastforward...

Munchkin laughed a couple of times, but has yet to do it again

10 and 12's mom is threatening to move to Dallas with them - not sure how I feel about this - how i REALLY feel

got a full on WEAVE (yay for white girl hair!)

Had a job interview with David's Bridal for a bridal consultant position

Have an interview with a non profit agency on Monday for a Parent Educator position

8 and I seem to be doing very well....although there are definitely days I'd like to smother him in his sleep, for the most part he is the love of my life

oh...and how could I forget....

Much to my chagrin, 8 has brought a tv the size of a small country into the home, which now puts a tv in the bedroom....while initially I was a fan of this idea b/c now I can watch shows I'D like to watch, instead of 24 hour ESPN, now I am wondering if this was really a good idea. I feel like we spend even less hang out time together now.....maybe that's why we've been getting along so well....hmmmm...something to ponder.....

So there...that was my life in fast forward. And now that I go back and read it, I have no idea why you guys read my blog...I am one boring ass chic...lol....but damn if I don't make boring look good, right?

HAHAHAHAAHA.....I crack myself up!

until next time lovelies......

Post-It Note Tuesdays - PLAY ALONG!

2009-09-29T01:33:00.012-05:00

Post-It Note Tuesdays with Supah....Notes to the Munchkin....

I Heart Faces - Blue Tuesday

2009-09-29T01:25:00.003-05:00

This is my first time playing...but play along I will...here is my submission...My first child...my munchkin..and her daddy...asleep on the couch...she was all of ONE WEEK OLD....she's only 4 1/2 months old now but my how time has flown by...I love being her mama...even bad days are good days now...anyway...here's my munchkin and her papa bear....

Sunday Storytime With My Girl Em

2009-09-27T16:42:00.014-05:00

"Mommy, can I have a pony?"

"What do you mean 'no'?"

"What you talkin' 'bout mama? No?"

"Pleeeeeeeaaaaaassssse!!!!"

"BUT I REALLY WANT A POOOOONNNYYYYY!!!!!"

"Pretty please?"

"With a cherry on top?"

"You're thinking about it...I can tell. I will wait patiently for your answer......"

"What? I CAN have the pony???"

"YAAAAAAYYYYYY!!!!!!"

Yo Mama Said WHAAAAAAATTTTTT????

2009-09-23T08:13:00.004-05:00

I don't participate in Wordless Wednesdays because I'm a writer, and if I don't have my words, well then what the hell DO I have? So with my middle finger raised high to Wordless Wednesday, I bring you MOUTHFULL OF WHATEVA WEDNESDAY!!!

So....how many of you out there in bloggyland have a mother who used to say all kinds of weird things when they were mad at you? If your mom was anything like MY mom, you heard some of the most random crap in the world. Odds are you're using them on your own children now, even though you SWORE you never would! HA! SUCKERS!

Well, I am going to share with you some of the things I heard growing up, and CAN'T WAIT to use on the munchkin....I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE THE LOOK ON HER FACE WHEN I SAY:

"DON'T SAY ANOTHER WORD! NOW DID YOU _____________?? ANSWER ME!"
*ummmm....didn't I just tell her not to say another word?*

"I WILL SLAP THE BLACK OFF YOU!"
*I don't think that's actually possible, but when mom said it, I believed she would die trying. And then I'd be white. I always wondered if that would mean I would then have "white girl hair".*

"DO YOU HAVE A BREATHING PROBLEM? LAST I CHECKED I WAS THE ONLY ONE WITH ASTHMA IN THIS HOUSE, BUT IF YOU KEEP IT UP I AM SURE WE CAN MAKE IT SO WE SHARE AN INHALER!"
*Damn. My mom was no joke. How the hell she came up with this one is BEYOND me.*

"ROLL YOUR EYES AGAIN AND I PROMISE YOU I WILL ROLL THEM RIGHT OUT YA'HEAD!"
*I kid you not. She ACTUALLY said that. I don't think I even BLINKED for a week after that*

"IF I HEAR YOU HOLLERIN' ONE MORE TIME I WILL BREAK YA'FACE!"
*This was actually started by my aunt. Because of her fierceness we actually believed she would do it. No one wants a broken face in the second grade.*

So, these are the ones I can remember off the top of my head. My mom was an AWESOME mom - seriously - THE BEST!!! But when she meant business....well let's just say my mom didn't play. If she said "jump", you had better be lookin' for some pogo shoes because the words "how high" were just gonna get you the look of death for "gettin' smart".

And how is it that moms can do that - give you that look that says "I swear to God if you move one more inch I am going to feed you to the sewer rats and feign ignorance when people ask for you". Will I learn to do that? Will I be good at giving "THE LOOK"?

AND THE PINCH AND TWIST!

Did anyone else's mom do this? I got this at church ALL THE TIME! And then she DARED me to make even ONE PEEP when it hurt. I always wanted to be like "He-llo! You're freakin' TWISTING MY SKIN OFF!! HOW THE 'F' AM I SUPPOSED TO STAY QUIET???". But remember that "break ya'face" line...yeah - I knew better.

But here's how I knew I was really in trouble...and if you're Latina, I KNOW you can relate.....

"ME CASO EN NA, CONIO! NO TE MUEVES Y NO TE HABLAS! SIENTATE AQUI! CARAJO!!!!"

Translation:

"You move or say another word and that's your ASS!"

However, when it's said in spanish it sounds sooooo threatening. You wanna runto your nearest church and immediately beg for forgiveness of crap you have yet to do but know you WILL do, because you know what's coming.

Ugh....childhood....I look back and laugh because I was actually a really good kid. All the stuff up there I probably only heard once in my life...but they made a lasting impression. In a good way. I'm thankful for all of those "mommy threats". They kept me in line. They ensured me that my mom was maybe just a little bit crazy.

And every good mom knows that you want your kids to think you're just a little bit off.

Just a little.

Are you off? Was your mom? What kinds of things did YOUR mom holler across the house?

Post-It Note Tuesdays - PLAY ALONG!

2009-09-22T13:07:00.011-05:00

White Girl + Black Guy = Slap This Mama!

2009-09-22T11:33:00.004-05:00

I make no qualms about it - I'm a JAY-Z LOVIN' MAMA! I have loved him since Reasonable Doubt and adore him today with his latest release The Blueprint 3. When I was pregnant with my daughter, whenever a Jay-Z song would come on she would go nuts! Flippin', kickin', puinchin'...and I would just say "Go 'head little mama - NYC is in your blood!!" She still gets VERY excited when we play Jay-Z in the house now. It's pretty cute.

*And for you squares...no I don't play L'il Wayne and all that other crap for her. Jay-Z is relevant to who I am and where I've been and as long as I'M OK with it, she can hear it. AND DON'T PRETEND THAT YOU DON'T WANT TO BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT WHEN YOUR KID ASKS YOU TO PLAY DISNEY SING-ALONGS IN THE CAR FOR THE 15,569th TIME - 'CUZ YOU KNOW YOU DO!*

Ok...back to my post.

I also make no qualms about the fact that I LOVE ME SOME SUPAHMOMMY!!! She has quickly become a girlfriend, a confidante, and a voice of reason and sanity. (I know - who would've put Supah and sanity in the same sentence, right?) If you haven't caught up on Supah's posts, my little one loves her too. SEE? Yup...that's my munchkin reading Supah's blog. Who needs the Wall Street Journal???

*And again, for you squares...no, I don't read Cosmo to her either. Supah is relevant to who I am and where I've been and as long as I'M OK with it, she can read it. AND DON'T PRETEND THAT YOU DON'T WANT TO BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT WHEN YOUR KID ASKS YOU TO READ DANNY AND THE DINOSAUR FOR THE 15,569th TIME - 'CUZ YOU KNOW YOU DO!*

So, I'm sure you're wondering why I am waxing poetic over a white girl in Philly and a black guy from Brooklyn. Supah, I KNOW you are!

I am doing so because they both verbally kicked my ass in THE VERY SAME DAY.

During one of my mommy moments I was saying to S that my munchkin would never be a ballerina because of her gimp arm (she has Erb's palsy in her left arm). And this is what my dear S said to me:

"and your daughter can be anything she sets her heart to..

challenged arm or not..
she'll be a beautiful person because she has a mother like you... and she will inspire you one day when she dances in a production..."

So after I wiped my stupid tears away, I hopped in my car to get a much needed Diet Coke thinking:

"Ugh - she is so right. I hate it when other people are right. Damn."

Then I turned on the radio and my new Jay-Z cd was in - AND GUESS WHAT TRACK WAS PLAYING???

so ambitious

AND GUESS WHAT PART OF THE SONG IT JUST HAPPENED TO BE ON???

"the motivation for me, is them tellin' me what I could not be. oh well. I'm so ambitious"

O.M.G.

Could they have slapped me in the face any harder?? If her arm doesn't get any better in her lifetime people will ALWAYS be trying to put limits on her, telling her what she CAN'T DO...who she CAN'T BE. How DARE I be the one to start the chorus?? WHAT THE HELL IS MY PROBLEM???

My girl is sooo gonna rock! She will probably dance circles around me - and I can't wait until the day she comes home and tells me she slapped a boy for pulling her pigtails. That will be a LEFT HAND HI-FIVE for the ages!!!

So my love for Supah and Jay-Z grow deeper - for in their own little ways, they have awakened me to the endless possibilities of the munchkin. They are forever bonded. For me at least.

My Unlikely, Yet Blessed Anniversary

2009-09-18T13:36:00.009-05:00

365 days ago today my world was changed FOREVER.

Looks like my uterus grew a penis, right? That was actually what I said to my OB when she showed me the picture. But alas, I was not growing boy parts on my insides - that was my kid. You are looking at my very first ultrasound picture. God had put his thumbprint on my womb and I was with child. If you've read "And Then God Laughed", then you know I had less than planned for this, and was shocked - to say the least. However, once the dust settled I realized that my dream had come true. Literally and figuratively. About 6 years ago I actually had a dream about my daughter; saw her face and everything. So though I wasn't prepared, I was ready. But a few short weeks later everything came to a screeching halt.

I started spotting.

I called my doctor immediately who told me to come in as soon as I could. I drove like a bat out of hell to meet my honey so he could drive the rest of the way to her office. She examined me and said it was most likely the beginning of a miscarriage, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. My body had to run its course. She sent me home and ordered me to stay there for the next few days. Broken hearted and filled with an unexplainable grief, we drove home in complete silence. I had never inhaled air that thick in my life. Sadness filled my nostrils with every.single.breath. I went home and waited. It's the weirdest feeling, and I'm going to put it the best way I know how. And I apologize now if it's too blunt for some readers, but this is how it felt for me:

My doctor sent me home to feel a prolonged death.

That's honestly how I felt about the whole thing. I was angry and sad and confused and every other adjective they teach you for "sad" in elementary school. So I sat. And I waited. I went to bed not knowing if the morning would greet me with more death or not. Before I closed my eyes I had a small conversation with the little person I was attempting to grow and told her that she had a job to do in there, and it was to hold on tight and be strong. I told her I would handle business in the outside world but she HAD to handle business in there. Then I closed my eyes and prayed for the best.

The next day came and at first I thought perhaps we were in the clear - the spotting had ceased and I felt pretty okay. It wasn't until that afternoon that I felt my luck might really be running out.

I was now bleeding. Not spotting. Bleeding.

Once again I rushed to the hospital and kind of braced myself for the D&C my doctor had explained would be necessary. Death was at my baby's door. I remember thinking "this is the most UN-FAIR moment of my life". A few things happened before I actually saw my doctor, and I'm not going to go too far into it except to say that at one point I was surrounded by a flurry of nurses and I think I screamed and my honey caught me. The next thing I remember is my doctor coming in and saying she was sorry, and that as part of procedure she had to scope me to make sure everything came out. Silence. And then, this:

No, it's not a kewpie doll. That's my daughter. Somehow through all that chaos she managed to do just what I had asked her to do. She held on. The doctor showed me her heart beating ever so rapidly and we joked about how she had never seen such a formed figure on her ultrasound machine before.

I like to think it was my daughters way of letting us know in no uncertain terms that she wasn't going anywhere.

Due to the chaos that had just ensued, my doctor decided to err on the side of caution and put me on bed rest for the remainder of my first trimester. Not easy for a girl who likes to think she's got a bigger planner than Oprah. But for my daughter, I rested.

As time went on we saw this:

(remember my dream?)

And then this:

And finally, this:

Now, I'm not going to say that my pregnancy was smooth sailing after that huge ordeal. I had bouts of terrible heartburn, to where I felt like someone had lit a pilot light in the back of my throat. At seven months I had to kiss my heels goodbye, for my once pretty little toes had been replaced by Hobbit feet. Through out my entire third trimester I felt like my vagina was lifting 50 pound weights. I wish I could make that last one up but it's true. My entire pelvic region was having a major anxiety attack. I jokingly referred to it as ETSD - Early Traumatic Stress Disorder. I couldn't complain too much though, because it was all just a reminder that I still had something so precious inside of me, gearing up to grace the world with her presence.

So, 365 days ago I had

and today I have

Never underestimate the difference a year can make.

Perception is Not Always Reality

2009-09-15T20:22:00.003-05:00

That One Girl: On a scale of 1-10, 10 being you're absolutely sure you want to marry me and spend the rest of your life with me (as you've stated in the past), where do you fall?

Him: 8

That One Girl: Huh?

Him: Huh?

That One Girl: Did you say 8?

Him: Yeah.

That One Girl: Oh.

Him: What? Is that bad?

That One Girl: It's your answer.

That One Girl promptly moves "ring with diamonds" given last Christmas to right hand and closes Kleinfeld.com website.

Thinks to self "time to readjust thinking because apparently I have forgotten, nothing is quite as it seems"

Where's Oda Mae and Her Magic Closet When You Need Her?

2009-09-15T07:44:00.006-05:00

If you are a woman, and you are breathing, I think I may be spot on in saying that at some point and time in your life you had a crush on Patrick Swayze. Black, White, Asian, Latina, 6 years old or 75 years old and using a walker, admitted OUT LOUD, or held in the confines of your "kissing pillow" - you had a mad crush on the man.

And honestly, how could you not? Those piercing eyes, the cleft in the chin, the swaying hips - OH MY GOD! I'm getting all hot and bothered right now just listing those things. The man single-handedly revitalized the formal dance class studio, AND had kilns working overtime all over the world! I mean c'mon - after seeing Ghost, what woman didn't turn to her husband/boyfriend/lover and say "Honey, we are signing up for a pottery class TO-MOR-ROW" ?

Hell, I was in high school and after seeing it attempted to recreate the scene with my high school sweetheart (no, I wasn't a fast-ass, I was a teenage girl "in love", with hormones - and just so you know - yes, I would snatch Emory BALD if I EVER found out she did some of the crap I did as a teenager - INCLUDING recreating movie love scenes). But I actually broke out my childhood pottery wheel and tried to make it work. Yeah. Not so much. Decided to try with Play-Doh instead. Yeah ummmmm, remember how your mom always said "make sure you don't get the Play-Doh on the carpet"? Well, let's just say I found out the hard way why she said that.

But seriously though, Swayze took us ladies to another place. He gave so much of himself to his characters that we actually believed we could have what they were having.

Hands up. How many of us tried the lift scene from Dirty Dancing? How many? I did. Sure did. Except I wasn't smart enough to try it in a pool and when my cousin dropped me on the hardwood floor, I bruised a rib and busted my lip. BUT, P. Swayze made me believe I could do it. And I did do it - ten years later after some serious ballet classes and lots of practice. And I felt what Baby felt. Free. Light. Sexy. Fabulous. That was him. As a woman, he made us feel. Even if our significant others sat on the couch day in and day out, scratching Lord knows where with God knows what, for that short period in time we believed that they had the potential to be the Johnny to our Baby...or the Sam to our Molly. He ensured us that our awkwardness is what made us sexy, and the openness of our hearts is what made us human.

For these things, I will forever openly admit my crush on Patrick Swayze.

He rests in peace, and lifts me in my dreams.

MeMe Monday - oh Supah Supah Supah.......

2009-09-14T05:15:00.004-05:00

Oh the scandal scandal SCANDAL I am about to unleash by participating in MeMe Monday TODAY!!! The topic - 5 white lies you have told....ugh...I am so done for....Okay...
btw - Supah, you owe me for this one...lmao!

1. To college boyfriend - "Oh my god Yes! Yes! That is sooo it! You're so workin it! Oh my god I'm almost there...yes yes YES!!!!"

- yep, you guessed it. I FAKED IT - BIG TIME (and many times)! I was young and didn't want to hurt his fragile college boy ego. He really thought he was doin' somethin' and I just wanted it to be OVER, so yes. I faked it. And I'm damn glad I did because when I wrote "The Bad Girl's Guide To Faking A Good One" for my creative writing class, I totally got an A+ on that junk!

2. To cop - "Yes sir, I know I was speeding. I am on my way to an emergency appointment with my Obstetrician."

- this was a bad lie to tell, and I immediately felt horrible for it and asked for forgiveness....but I really couldn't afford a ticket at the time...and I was obviously pregnant - so I used it to my advantage. Bad, I know.

3. To family - "I'm dating the most AWESOME guy!"

- I was dating my vibrator. Which was pretty damn awesome, and I had named him - so does it really count as a lie?

4. To self - "You'll get back in those size 14's in NO TIME!"

- Four months later I have yet to stop buying the mini Haagen Dazs cups from Kroger... but damn them for making them 10 for $10!

5. To Honey - "The kids must have found your secret stash of Mike n Ike's, Lemonheads, Lifesavers, AND Laffy Taffy! You should do something about that."

-Yes. I sacrificed my stepkids for some damn candy. I consider it payback for all the hell they've given me from day one.

So there ya have it - now that I have secured my spot in purgatory, I will go redeem myself in yet ANOTHER mini ice cream cup. 14 shmourteen....I'm HOT!

Ah damn - it was just 5 white lies RIGHT?!

I Can't Believe I Signed Up For This

2009-09-13T03:01:00.003-05:00

I am a girlie-girl....through and through. I love makeup, purses, mani-pedi's, fabulous heels...I'm as "chic" as they come. And I'm okay with that - very okay with that. I'm surprised I like to garden as much as I do because there is dirt (and the occasional earthworm - ewwwwww) involved. However, I think the only reason I enjoy that so much is because it all looks so pretty when I'm done. So not only am I a girlie-girl, I'm a self-fulfilling girlie girl. HA! So when my honey informed me that I would have to blow my daughters nose FOR HER (she's got a wicked change-of-weather head cold), you can imagine the look of horror and disgust on my face. And it wasn't just a flash of a look, no. It was stuck on my face like someone had come along and slapped me on the back at the precise moment I made said face, and lo and behold, mom was right - my face froze like that. The conversation that took place after this information carried itself along the sound waves to my not registering brain went a little something like this:

Honey: This nasal aspirator isn't working. I think we're gonna have to blow her nose for her.

Me: Say what?

Honey: Yeah. We're gonna have to blow her nose for her. She can't breathe through her nose which is why she's not falling asleep.

Me: And so, just how does one blow one's nose for another???

Honey: Well, she will hate it. But you basically close up one of her nostrils and then blow into her mouth like you're about to give CPR. Except all the air is diverted up her nasal cavity and the snot comes shooting out.

Me: the look appears...

Honey: Hey, she's our daughter. We have to do it.

Me: (still looking at him as though he has lost his last good brain cell) Screw that man - YOU have to do it!

Honey: Well, I have to go to work today, so if she can't breathe through out the day you're just going to let her suffer?

Me: silence....brain says "Shit man, pullin' on the damn heartstrings...that was low and sneaky. Bastard." mouth says "FINE. Show me how this crap is done."

I then proceeded to watch him blow our daughters nose for her. Not only was she pissed to high hell, but when he was done, he had a face full of snot. Our daughters snot. I, on the other hand, had a mouth full of vomit. This had to be the single most disgusting thing I had ever witnessed with my own eyeballs.

But wouldn't you know it.....within seconds of him ending the torture of the munchkin she was sound asleep. Literally. KNOCKED OUT. And slept for a good couple of hours too, so I thought there may be something to this madness after all.

Later on in the day she had this congestion thing going again right before it was time for her to go down for her nap, so I said to my brain "Okay girl...we can do this.....it's for the munchkin. WE CAN DO THIS". So I grabbed my munchkin and laid her down on the couch and hovered over her, mentally preparing myself to help the girl breathe. She was looking at me all sweet and baby-like, probably thinking in her baby brain "aw geez...I love my mama...she's so much fun..I just love her...I bet we're gonna play that 'tickle my tummy' game game right now...ooohhhh I can't wait!"

Then I moved in for the blowing.

And promptly got an eyeful of snot.

My daughter was now furious with me, and giving me a look that said "TAKE THAT, BITCH!"
And I totally deserved the look. I mean, imagine if your honey did that to you. He lays you down all sweet and gentle on the couch, looks longingly into your eyes, and leans in for what you think is going to be the moment to end all moments - except he starts BLOWING into you! You would slap the mess out of him - with BOTH hands!! Which is what I believe my kid would have done if she could have. Instead, she was satisfied with practically blinding me in one eye. Which is I guess the perfect retribution for a baby.

But ugh....it is hell for this mama. No one likes a mouth full of vomit and an eyeful of snot.

No one.

Well, I take that back. No one except sleeping babies.

THROWBACK THURSDAY via FLASHBACK FRIDAY

2009-09-11T06:30:00.005-05:00

YES - I HAVE BEEN RUNNING BEHIND ALLLLLLLL WEEK......but alas, for your viewing pleasure....putting my humility on the line....providing you all with fodder for the dinner table/water cooler/bathroom chat.....I bring you.......

THROWBACK THURSDAYS
(thursday thursday thursdayyyyyy)

No, I didn't swallow a beachball...that is me - prego...respectively 3, and then 6 months....

There isn't much to say about the pics, I think it's pretty obvious how I felt about the baby bump....

But I felt the need to post love today...there is so much negativity in the world, and it becomes very easy to focus on the bad things happening in our lives, and lose sight of the wonderful things....like our honeys....our munchkins....ourSELVES.....so my THROWBACK THURSDAY post (which for today shall be called FLASHBACK FRIDAY - today and today ONLY) is dedicated to love....

live it. breathe it. be it.

Black Girl Said WHAAAAAATTTTTT?????

2009-09-08T05:18:00.006-05:00

It's Tuesday - so I'm a day late (and still a dolla short - hahaha)...so what. I'm still gonna play in MeMe Monday and YOU can't stop me. So Bpppppptttttttt!

However, it seems as though my mother holds most, if not all of the evidence that I was a ridiculously silly little Black girl who unfortunately, had no clue that SHE WAS BLACK. *'gasp - did she just say she was BLACK??? Oh God! Not THAT!'* (TO THE UBER-SENSITIVE READER - I poke fun at myself and society on a daily basis, consider that one a jab and start laughing - it's really not as taboo to say "Black" as you may think)

And on a total sidenote, I always get a kick out of the non-Black people who kind of whisper the word black around me, or hesitate to describe me as "the Black girl with the short hair"....it cracks me up...it's like - HE-LLOOOOOO....U KNOW I'M BLACK...I CERTAINLY KNOW I'M BLACK....LET'S CALL A SPADE A SPADE AND QUIT THIS IRISH JIG WE'RE DOIN'! hahahahahhaaha - it gets me every time!

Anyway - I totally digress....as I was saying, I was ignorant to the fact that I was Black and hence ignored the BLACK GIRL FASHION RULES. Now no, I'm not getting all reverse racist or anything so bite your quick to judge tongue and just follow along.

Yes, there ARE Black girl fashion rules. They consist of things that Black girls can't or shouldn't do because WE'RE NOT WHITE and it just doesn't work out the same for us. Since I have no pictures to share, I will just list the top five, and guarantee you that yes, I have in fact committed EVERY BLACK GIRL FASHION CRIME you see listed here.

1. The Jheri Curl - I thought if I got a curl my hair would be pretty and curly like SJP's or Mariah Carey's. SJP is White. MC is 1/2 White. The curl did not work in my favor. What I ended up with was a "follow the drip" mess of curl that when dried (and grown out) made me look like a ghetto fabulous Ice Cube (the rapper, not what's in your freezer). Thus, not a good look.

2. Braided Bangs - my grandmother's idea, not mine. I had to sleep with one of those soft pink foam rollers in the front of my head and without fail, every morning I woke up with a lovely indention in my forehead. This is when I made my very first mental note: BLACK.GIRLS.DON'T.WEAR.BANGS. Well, at least not THIS Black girl.

3. Frosted Blue Eyeshadow - Can't blame this one on anyone but me. College mistake. But damn Cover Girl for making us think we can all wear the same damn colors. This was BEFORE they had the sense to hire Queen Latifah and create the Queen Collection. Damn geniuses.

4. Frosted Pink Lipstick - I blame my friends, and my mother for this one. If my mother had allowed me to wear makeup at age 11 I never would have made this rookie mistake, and borrowed my friends makeup at school. And if I had ANY friends who were worth their weight in spit, they would have said "Hey! Guess what? Your BLACK. Take that crap off your lips. You look like someone turned your mouth inside out." But none of them did. So I went through junior high that way. That is, until the day I forgot to wash my make-up off before coming home and told my mother that no, I was not wearing eyeliner - that line had been there since the day I was born. I remember a slap, her hollering something about having given birth to me and knowing every inch of my little Black body, and having to wait ANOTHER year before I could wear make-up.

And finally....

5. Low Rise Skinny Jeans - Plain and simple, our bodies are built differently. Black girls can't wear everything everybody else can. Well at least THIS Black girl can't. I learned this the hard way when my ass fell out while strolling through The Galleria. That was the quickest, and most necessary shopping trip EVER.

So there ya have it - my MeMe Monday on Tuesday. Bet you're wishin' I had those pics up aren't ya? Ha. Not in a million years suckers. I might wanna run for office or somethin' one day.

Ease My Guilt. Hire Me.

2009-09-06T20:45:00.004-05:00

So, did ya hear the one about that one girl that got laid off from her job when she was 8 1/2 months pregnant? Yeah, it happened. And during the worst recession in decades. Oh. You didn't hear that one? Well put your ear to your computer speakers because I'm a'tellin.

Yessiree, that's me. Jobless Joan. Sitting at home, day after day, sending out resume after resume, practically throwing myself at the feet of the Lords of Industry. They point. They laugh. Sometimes they throw in a swift kick in the ribs for good measure. And then they move on to the next poor (and I do mean poor, as in holding onto those six tuna cans in the pantry because ya never know when you'll REALLY be in a crunch)shmuck to mock. Now don't get me wrong - I fully realize the opportunity I have been given over countless other moms out there. I have been able to spend every day of my daughters life with her. I am the first thing she sees in the morning, the last thing before she goes to bed, and every second in between. *sidenote: I now wonder if the "spit up" is from the formula and gas, or if she's just sick of seein' my mug every damn second of the day. Something to ponder.* The fact that I have been able to do that is indescribable. It's priceless. I'm living moments I will never have again with her. Days I can't get back - and that's pretty awesome. But really - how awesome is it if you have to beg the electric company not to turn off your lights because you have a newborn and you're unemployed and only have one income and you're doing your BEST to make ends meet, and the man on the other end of the phone says "Well ma'am, due to the recent heatwave we won't be turning off your electricity. I can give you seven more days." How awesome is it? It's not awesome at all when you realize that the fact that you have an infant isn't enough to keep your lights on - but the weather is.

I am receiving unemployment and for that I am grateful. I have a wonderful man who not only puts up with my tears, rants, raves, and all around neuroses since I'm home all day, AND works his butt off to bring home a decent check every week, and for HIM I am grateful. I have my health (kind of) and for that I am grateful. I have my daughter and for her, well there aren't enough words to say how grateful I am for her. I still have my house, my car, my utilities, and food in the fridge - and for all these things I am so very grateful. What I don't have is a job. A J-O-B. And truth be told, I feel damn guilty about it. I know it's not my fault I got laid off....but seriously - they couldn't have picked someone else to let go? I know that's a HORRIBLE thought but who lays off a woman about to give birth?? WHO DOES THAT?? IS THERE A SPECIAL PLACE IN HELL/PURGATORY/MIDDLE EARTH for those people?

Anyway, as I was saying, I feel incredibly guilty for not having been able to find work yet (as if that's something I can control - remember "And Then God Laughed"?). I feel as though I have let my daughter down (though she is completely clueless to it - girl has the attention span of a gnat), my honey down (though he NEVER makes me feel bad about my situation and reminds me constantly that he loves me and he just wants me to be happy in whatever I do. I think that man should get some good lovin' tonight..that's pretty damn worthy of gettin' some), like I've let God down (but if he sees all and knows all then he planned this and HOPEFULLY has something A-MAZING lined up for me because surely he wouldn't bless me with this little girl and then hang us out to dry, right?)...basically I just kinda feel like I'm suckin' on a giant LIFE LEMON and there is no sugar to be found ANYWHERE, so makin' lemonade is a joke.

So, I put the call out to the blog world. I am a Social Worker. I am a writer. I am an Event Coordinator. I am a Community Outreach Expert. I am a wedding/party planner. I am the Public Relations QUEEN. I.AM.FOR.HIRE.

This Post Is Dedicated To M

2009-09-05T10:06:00.004-05:00

*This will not be my usual post today ladies...

So before you go asking - NO...I DID NOT GIVE BIRTH TO ANOTHER WHITE BABY. But someone did. This beautiful little man belongs to my neighbor, and let me just tell you - there is a quite a story about how he got here. Let's just say he was a surprise to us all! Literally.

My neighbor had absolutely no idea she was pregnant until she woke up in the middle of the night with severe back pain, only to find out the cause was that she was in labor and 3 cm dilated. Within the next hour, this little guy came to be. TOTALLY unprepared and still in shock, her mom called me the next morning to tell me the news. If I were to tell you that my heart stopped for a moment I wouldn't be lying. I see her daughter every day. Her daughter watches my daughter. How did I miss it?? How did we ALL miss it?

Well regardless of how we all missed it and how he got here, he is HERE. While initially totally unprepared...well, never underestimate the goodness of family (born into and chosen). This little guy is off to a pretty good start. Someway, somehow, he made it into this world with no prenatal care - and is 100% healthy. 8lb 8oz of healthy!

I would be a fool if I didn't think there were little angels taking care of him from day one. Him and his mama. They are both supremely and infinitely blessed - and though it will be a tough row to hoe for this new, young mom....I think she knows that someone has been looking over her the last 9 months, so she will be just fine.

I firmly believe everything happens for a reason. It's no coincidence we live next door to each other. Her mom's father used to watch me after school in NYC (we live in TX now), but I had no idea her mother existed. It's no coincidence I had my baby when I did and she came over everyday to hang out with the munchkin - feeding her, changing her diapers, playing with her. It's really no coincidence that I had just pulled out a bunch of baby items to donate to Goodwill and they were already neatly packaged in my living room - I'd just been too lazy to go. It's really all NO COINCIDENCE. Everything happens for a reason. EVERYTHING.

Much love and MANY blessings to you M. And just know that even though at times it will seem ridiculously difficult, you have already made us all a bit wiser and stronger by allowing us to watch you, our baby, be a mommy to little T. We love you, we love you, WE LOVE YOU!

Stay Tuned

2009-09-04T23:21:00.006-05:00

Hello Blog-o-nistas! I haven't abandoned my blog...I've just had a very eventful couple of days and am trying to wrap my brain around the appropriate words to post my next blog. All I can tell you is LIFE IS BEAUTIFUL!!!

Perhaps tomorrow my brain will figure out how to share my news....until then....love you all!

Old Pro vs. The Newbie

2009-09-01T09:59:00.004-05:00

This posting has been started and stopped numerous times since Sunday. Do I post it? Do I not post it? What if family reads it? WHAT IF MY MOTHER READS IT?? Ugh....

So here I sit again, a full 12 hours AFTER I initially started this post this morning, and have resolved to just do it. I'm just going to put it out there and let people think what they want, let the chips fall where they may. Okay.

Relationships. Are. Hard.

I am (unfortunately) not yet married to my daughter's father, but we DO live together. Now before someone goes wagging their well manicured finger at me, just know that I am ALREADY filled with the guilt of a Catholic hooker missing Saturday afternoon mass. Despite all my quirkiness and willingness to blow caution to the wind time at any time, this is one way in which I am VERY traditional. I WANTED to be married before I had children, but it just didn't work out that way. Now don't get me wrong - I love this man with all of my heart and every fiber of my being. But there are definitely days I'd like to smother him with a pillow. Let me explain.

We (me and my honey) have a very interesting dynamic. We would do ANYTHING for eachother. We would do ANYTHING for our child. The thing is that while this is his third child, she is my FIRST. Naturally, as any first time mom, I worry incessantly. I worry if she's breathing. Is she not breathing? Is her breathing labored? Why does she sound that way? Is her skull forming okay? And countless other "new mommy" worries that I am SUPPOSED to have. I feel the responsibility to be her consummate 24 hour protection from THE WORLD. This feeling started the day the doctor confirmed her being in my belly. I am her mommy and for the rest of my life and hers I will worry. Don't tell my mother this because I play the "cool mom" role with her to keep HER worries at bay. But I do - I. WORRY. And I do so happily. However, this is where things start to go awry for my honey and me. This is his third time around the block so it is old news for him. He reminds me constantly that I worry too much, which drives me NUTS because HE-LLO!!! I'M A MOM!! THAT'S WHAT I DO!!

This difference (new mom vs. old pro) has led to many arguments, me saying "Would you just let me be a mom? Let me do what I do, damnit!", and occasionally wondering if there is any hope for US. Wondering if we will, in fact, get married within the next year or so. Now as I said before, I love this man and believe that he IS the one for me - but how do we make this work? We have different parenting styles - I'm very hands on, very maternal, and I question EVERYTHING and he is more of a 'go with the flow' and 'let's just wait and see' kind of dad. While on some levels I appreciate that because it DOES help me to just chill out and rethink some things, on many other levels, right now I just don't have it in me to be that way.

So what do we do? How do we make this work? How do we fix what (sometimes) seems to me is on the verge of breaking?

How do TWO different people become ONE great team?

If Sunday Were An Ant.....

2009-08-30T11:18:00.008-05:00

Oh Lord. Today is Monday. It HAS to be because Sundays are NOT supposed to be like this. Sundays should be the day where you laze around in your underwear and contemplate the absolute necessity of shaving your legs. But it's not that kind of Sunday. Nope. At least not for me. Today's Sunday for me actually started Saturday night. After a rousing kinda-sorta argument with the man, he informed me that he would NOT be feeding the munchkin before he went to bed. He was exhausted, had had a bad day and was just going to shower and go to bed. Mind you, he never asked me how MY day was. Because if he had I would have told him that his daughter cried most of the day, slept for a whole 2 hours, and spit up gobs and gobs of thick milky JUNK all over me - ALL DAY. But he didn't ask me. So I didn't tell him. I simply stared, secretly wished my eyes had death lasers in them, and then went to prepare the bottle. HE showered and went to bed. Munchkin thought it wise to remain consistent. So rather than throw mommy for a loop and actually keep some of her dinner down and go right back to sleep, she continued with the spit up and the crying. Now before someone quips 'maybe she's allergic to the formula' or 'maybe she has reflux' or 'maybe she just wasn't feeling well', let me stop you and ask you to try this one on for size....maybe mommy already exhausted all those options and narrowed it down to she is not tolerating the red dye in her Mylicon (dumbass me got the "Original" formula this time because they were out of the dye-free formula - GIGANTIC mistake). So....daddy's ass is clean and he is snoring and mommy reeks of baby innards and dirty hair. Oh - I guess I didn't tell you that due to fussy - scratch that - PISSED OFF baby, mommy didn't get a shower all day. Munchkin didn't actually finally fall asleep until 2:48 this morning. Yep. That's right. 2:48 A.M. That's precisely how my Sunday started last night.

So in my extension of last night, I woke up to the sound of a fussing munchkin at 7:51 a.m.. Ok. I'm grateful for my 5 hours and 3 minutes of eye closure (because I refuse to refer to THAT as sleep), but I wasn't necessarily thrilled to be the one getting up with her. However, the man ALSO made clear last night that he wanted to SLEEP today. S-L-E-E-P. So needless to say that when I woke up this morning I really wanted to pry open his eye, piss in it and tell him to sleep on THAT. But I didn't. I went to the fussing bundle of joy and did what good mommies do.....fed her while planning my escape in my head. I needed to get out of that house before EVERYONE and EVERYTHING got pissed on.....because in case you couldn't tell...I'm really not feelin' it today.

Feeding the munchkin proved to be much less expletive invoking than yesterday and she went down fairly easier too. I had a brief pausing thought that this day might turn around after all. Then I went to make coffee. Forgot my coffee maker is still broken. *&^$^! But it's okay, I thought...I wanted to get out anyway so I'll just get dressed and go out for coffee...and ooohhhh a cupcake....Today is definitely a cupcake day, and I am craving a strawberry filled cupcake from Ooh La La. So I got dressed, packed my bag, checked on the munchkin, and advised still sleeping man that I am stepping out and the munchkin is asleep in her room. Now because he sleeps like a grizzly bear in hibernation I made sure to turn the monitor up EXTRA LOUD in case she wakes up. Hey - it's better than pissing in his eye. And so I'm off - but wait - not before I put gas in the car that the man left on E. But it's okay...it's a pit stop...I'm gonna have cupcakes and coffee this morning so IT'S OKAY. I put the gas in the car and head out to Ooh La La, tasting the creamy, sweet goodness all the way there. I actually had a daydream of myself on the way over there. I was being handed the cupcake, and as I took it from the girl behind the counter the cupcake came to life, looked me in the eye, winked and blew me a kiss. It had been waiting for me too. Oh I couldn't wait to get there, and as I got closer I felt the stress of the past 2 days sliding away. Things were about to get soooo much better.

Ooh La WHAT THE F***!!!!!!!!!

CLOSED??? CLOSED?????!!!!!! MOTHERF***IN' CLOSED???????

I'm so done. I hate you Sunday. I think you're an evil bastard whose sole purpose is to bring me to my breaking point and then crush me a little more. If you were an ant I would light you on fire with a magnifying glass and the evil death rays of the sun.

But you're not. So I think the man may just have to go blind in one eye today.

Sunday, you are dead to me....we are NOT friends. Come correct next week.

Oscar Shmoscar...I got a SPLASH!

2009-08-29T09:57:00.004-05:00

So YAY! I have received my very first bloggy love award. HOW COOL IS THAT!!! Thanks Ms. Eva! So here's my speech....

First I would like to thank my "birth control" that failed. Had it not been for that I would have nothing interesting to write about. I also wouldn't have vericose veins and bulging veins elsewhere (if ya know what I mean) - but that's a differEnt post for a different time. Maybe tomorrow.

I would also like to thank my honey for the good lovin' that led to the little bambino that came along after the birth control failed. Had it not been for THAT...I would have nothing interesting to write about.

The munchkin MUST get her due props. Without all the fussing, screaming, pooping, spitting up, smiling, cooing, laughing, and all the other nice-ities that come with being a baby, I would have nothing interesting to write about (and you, the reader, would have nothing to point and laugh at)

And finally - thank you Ms. Eva - for sharing in the hilarity (or train wreck depending on how you look at it) that is my life. By inviting others to rubberneck at this AWESOME display of life, you have allowed me to become a little more fabulous, a lot less shamed (is that even a word?), and have "blogtroduced" me to some awesome ladies. So WOOT WOOT to you Ms. Eva!

Okay....so here is the dealy-o on this award....Here is the scoop on this award: The Splash Award is given to alluring, amusing, bewitching, impressive, and inspiring blogs.When you receive this award, you must:* Put the logo on your blog/post.* Nominate & link up to 9 blogs which allure, amuse, bewitch, impress or inspire you.* Let them know that they have been splashed by commenting on their blog.* Remember to link to the person from whom you received your Splash Award.

I already linked back to the fabulous Eva - but seriously ya'll....check this chic out....I want to be like her when I grow up. She's a freakin' riot!

Ok..then there is Vodkamom whose letters to her children and spouse are truly hilarious....I hope to only live vicariously....the "white me" whose life is a little messed up and I love her for it...I swear sometimes I think we share a brain - which is why she is the "white me"....one time coke shot out my nose while reading her blog...do yourself a favor....put the soda down now....THETA MOM is the mom we all ARE but won't admit to being...well...I will...and I do..regularly...but SHE applauds you for IT...HOW COOL IS THAT....and then...ugh...how could I POSSIBLY leave off this one...Look up in the sky...it's an unhooked bra strap...it's a flying martini....it's SUPAHMOMMMYYYYYYYYY.....She puts the words on her blog faster than they can come to my mind....but she is another one that sometimes I wonder if we weren't separated at birth....if you fart while your laughing at her blog, don't blame her....and don't blame me either....it's not our fault you can't hold yours....but it IS her fault she's so damn funny....well maybe it's her kids' fault....hmmmmm.....

So...those are MY nominations for the SPLASH award....if you got it....PASS THIS MOTHA ALONG!!! Spread the bloggy love.....

It's Time For THROW BACK THURSDAYS YA'LL!!!!!

2009-08-27T10:01:00.004-05:00

Why I do this to myself I don't know, but here I am for your joy and amusement. Why my mother did this to me - well I know that one. She's evil. That's really the only fitting explanation. But anyways.....

OBVIOUSLY this is EONS ago because HEL-LO....I WAS SKINNY! And how about that braid sticking out about a foot from the back of my head? It looks like someone took a turd and hot glued it to my scalp. I also let someone get with in striking distance while I was half naked. Now you may be saying to yourself 'Hold up Mommy. I just saw a half naked picture of you on your last post!' Yeah...you did. But I WAS PREGNANT and hence had a reason to be round. Now, unless you count "sleeping baby in car while mommy runs errands = mommy stops at fast food restaurants to feed face and chugs cokes to keep awake" as a valid reason, there is no one photographing THIS skin anytime soon!

So there is my contribution to THETA MOM THURSDAY by way of THROWBACK THURSDAYS!

What's your contribution? I need something to point and laugh at too.

For My Daughter - "The Gift"

2009-08-27T00:32:00.003-05:00

*Forenote - this was written 2 years and 2 months TO THE DAY before my daughter was born. I hadn't even met her father yet, but I knew she was to be.*

To the child I have yet to be blessed with
I give to you my life
I give to you all that it took
To bring you into this world
Every work filled day
Every white wine filled night
Now to the average person
I know this sounds strange
But had it not been
For my crazy, or "misundertood" dad
I wouldn't be who I am today
If it hadn't been for my mama
Livin' a life of fear
I absolutely guarantee you
The woman you see
Wouldn't be standin' here
If I didn't have that boyfriend
Who tried to take the only thing I TRULY own
I wouldn't have the knowledge to teach you
About having a backbone
Had it not been for those "13 in a row" martini nights
And Rocky Point Spring Break Vacations
I would be completely oblivious
To the value of my education
(the 2nd time around)
I can even give to you my marriage
That went strangely awry
Because in realizing my spirit was suffocating
I learned how to exhale
And came face to face
With this amazing strength that lies inside
And so to you my child
With whom I have yet to be blessed
I give to you my life
Because it's given me my best

-always, your mama

The Sweetest Sound

2009-08-26T20:49:00.007-05:00

*FOREWARNING - IF YOU ARE LOOKING FOR A CHUCKLE TONIGHT...SORRY....THIS POST IS MORE SERIOUS IN NATURE*

Having a baby heightens things. Things like.....your emotions. Things that once may not have phased you, now leave you speechless. Conversations that you were once able to "leave at the table", now leave you seething...and sometimes contemplating friendships. Compassion turns into empathy turns into "What if that was MY child?" turns into tears. I found myself at the latter end of this spectrum last night.

At approximately 8:30 I received a phone call from my honey's aunt asking us to be in fervent prayer for her 1 year old granddaughter (our cousin). His aunt informed us that she had just received a call from the little girls' mom - she had just found her daughter FACE DOWN in the bathtub, and NOT BREATHING. His aunt was on her way over to the mom's home, who was desperately trying to perform CPR on her little girl while waiting for the paramedics to arrive. I assured her that we would begin praying immediately, and hung up the phone. However, I didn't begin praying immediately. First, I went to check on MY daughter. She was sound asleep in her crib, curled up in a cute little ball, snoring away. And while most other times I might chuckle about her snoring, or complain that between her father and her I will NEVER see a good night's sleep again, last night that sound was like an angel's trumpet in my ear....heavenly. It meant my little girl was breathing...and I thought "God, what if that was MY child?", and on came the tears. I stroked my little girls curly q's and fell into quiet prayer.

Fastforward: Prayer changes everything. Baby girl was revived and conscious by the time they got her to the hospital, and up and playing today. She is an extremely strong little girl, and God obviously has big plans for her, but she has no idea how close she was to.....well...she just has no idea.

In speaking to her mom today I had to ask what happened. She is a fabulous mother with the eye of a hawk. She stays home with her children so that SHE will be the caregiver and not a stranger. For her children, SHE IS LOVE. So how could this have happened to her? The same way it could have happened to any one of us. She was bathing her two children together (ages 2 and 1) and stepped out of the bathroom for 2 SECONDS to grab a towel. In those 2 seconds she believes her daughter may have tried to pull herself up to standing by holding onto the soap dish, her hand slipped, she knocked her head (there is a bruise on baby girl's forehead) and down she went. 2 SECONDS. TWO SECONDS! That's all it took. There are no words in the english (or spanish) language to adequately describe the fear, anguish, and devastation that hit baby girl's mommy in that moment. Imagine walking into your bathroom to find your baby face down under the water. Ugh....my stomach aches just thinking about it. I sat and listened to this mom's story, daring myself to cry, and then heard something that astonished me more than the 'what happened' story itself.

THIS MOM RESUSCITATED HER CHILD AND DIDN'T EVEN KNOW CPR.

She is not sure if it was her mommy instinct, God, or countless hours of watching shows like ER, Grey's Anatomy, and House, but all of a sudden she was performing Infant CPR on her child. Within three breaths and a few chest pumps her once not breathing child was coughing and spitting up water. Her body was listless, her eyes closed, BUT SHE WAS BREATHING. I guarantee you that at that very moment she said the shortest prayer known to man: THANK YOU GOD.

So, why am I, the "real" mom sharing this story with you all? Because of that very reason...I'M REAL - AND THIS IS AS REAL AS IT GETS. When our children are on the line we find strength we never knew we had, knowledge we never came across in any book, courage to rival that of a Roman Gladiator. I don't think dads understand this, and truthfully, I don't even think WE understand it until we are FORCED into a situation where it is tested. Having said that, I urge you ALL to do the following things...

1. Hug your babies and loved ones extra tight tonight....even if your babies are grown...love on them....even if they give you the fuzzy eyeball and tell you how weird you are...LOVE ON THEM...you never know when they will be snatched from you.

2. NEVER, NEVER, NEVER leave your babies unattended around water. It was an honest mistake. We've all had a temporary lapse in judgment thinking 'oh - it's only a second', or 'oh - the water is not even high...he/she will be fine'. Did you know that a baby can drown in just AN INCH OF WATER? AN INCH! If you are giving a bath and realize you have forgotten to bring the towel in with you, use your own towel. If you're not comfortable with that, just carry your baby out of the bathroom naked and wet. She may shiver and scream, but she'll be WITH YOU.

3. LEARN INFANT/CHILD CPR!! This mommy didn't know it but thanks to the wonders of television and super-producer Michael Crichton, she was able to perform. But let's not rely on tv to save our babies lives. Find your local Red Cross, Parks and Recreation office, or YMCA and sign up for a class. And for those of you who don't have access to any of those, click here.

That is my post for the evening ladies. No punchline. No funny tags. Simply...love on your babies tonight. Remember how truly precious they are, and just how quickly they can be taken away from us.

I am going to go revel in my sweet baby's snoring. Good night.

Brad...Angie... Meet Your New Daughter

2009-08-22T22:26:00.007-05:00

Call the Mommy police. Report me to Parents magazine. Someone get a hold of Brad and Angie and see if they are interested in adding another child to their multi-cultural brood because I. Am. Over. It.

"It" is cute babies. "It" is cute babies who scream un-apologetically. "It" is cute babies who scream un-apologetically for no good reason other than they hate their car seat. And lastly, "It" is cute babies who scream un-apologetically for no good reason other than they hate their car seat and then when you finally try to put them down in their own crib they're not having it. They want YOU. MOMMY. HOLDER OF THE WOMB to hold them while they fall asleep so they can give you a sidelong glance and wry smile as if to say "GOTCHA BITCH." And then, just as they drift off to sleep and you begin to ask God for forgiveness for some of those thoughts you had while all that screaming was going on, you hear the sound that almost sends you into a Gran Mal seizure. She laughs. The screaming baby chuckles and drifts off to sleep, while you are stuck, too scared to move because that wretched screaming might start up again.

So you sit. And you sit. And sit. And eyeball the shot glass and bottle of Jose Cuervo Black that is approximately 10 feet away. And you're still sitting. Then...you have to pee.

Good thing it's laundry day.

I'm so over it.

*Once again, because I just know SOME MOTHER out there is wagging her finger at me and muttering about how grateful I should be to have such a blessing and yaddah yaddah yaddah....I AM GRATEFUL. I LOVE MY KID. HOWEVER, IT'S BEEN A DAY. And in case you missed it...my blog header DOES say "Things Nobody Says Out Loud..."*

Extreme - Not Just A Rock Band Anymore

2009-08-20T23:47:00.003-05:00

I am a low drama but high intensity kinda girl. I like to keep it lighthearted, easy not sleazy, and neat-o mosquito. But every now and again something comes along that makes my heart lurch a little bit...almost with a tense anxiousness that pops up when you least expect it. You (the reader) are probably wondering where I'm going with this...pondering about what the punchline is going to be. Well, there is no punchline. I will just say it.

Extremism scares me.

What is "extremism"? In my book it's when people are extremely to the left, or so extremely to the right that they can not see the common ground that either side is standing upon. Extremism lends itself to ignorance, intolerance, blind hostility, and a myriad of other social ills that we (as a people) tend to on a day to day basis.

Now someone once tried to argue me down by saying that if I didn't feel strongly this way or strongly that way, then I was wishy washy, and that was more dangerous than being an extremist. According to this person I was too easily swayed because I look for the "grey" areas. I don't necessarily agree with that view point though. Nothing (and I do mean nothing) in this world is AT ALL as it seems, so in my opinion, you should look for the grey areas. For me, grey = common and once you can find the commonality in things you can begin to move forward and make substantial progress. And just because you're grey does not mean that you don't have a set of beliefs on which you stand firm. For me it just means that you are more understanding of the beliefs of others - even if you don't agree with them.

I'm going to teach my daughter to be "grey" too. If she is going to live in this world with all the millions of different cultures, beliefs, religions, etc. , she's got to be. She will learn to be compassionate to the plights of others, understanding of why different people do different things, and tolerant of peoples differences. HOWEVER...I do not expect her to be tolerant of ignorance, hate, violence, and intolerance, among other things. In my opinion, those are all the beginnings of dangerous extremism, and if she's going to be an extremist of any sort, let it be in love and peace - something that will bring people together as opposed to drawing the dividing lines deeper in the sand.

Throwback Thursdays!!!!

2009-08-20T08:37:00.005-05:00

Alright ya'll.....it's time for a little thing I invented for my blog called THROWBACK THURSDAYS (there should be an echo after one says that)!!!! So here's what ya do...

1. find an old pic of yourself...childhood...awkward teen years...drunk college days...whatever...find it and then post it on your blog

2. share the story that goes with that picture

3. thank me later for the countless hours you will waste tripping down memory lane....and thank THETA MOM for giving you a reason to take an hour for yourself!

I'll go first....you can point...you can laugh...you can even do both...but if we ever meet I will deny this post ever existed...after I punch you in the head...JUST KIDDING.... no, but really...I'm not.

So here's my contribution to THETA MOM THURSDAY by way of THROWBACK THURSDAY! (remember what I said about that pointing and laughing business)

So that is me...age 5, I believe. And yes. That is foil on my head. Why, you ask? Well, if you ask my mother it was so the aliens could communicate with me when they wanted to take me back up in the mothership. She thought she was so funny. Obviously she didn't stop to think about who will be taking care of her in her old age. That's right. Me. Her only child. Ha Ha Ha now, Mother.

Anyhoo...the real reason for the foil on the head was because I was getting a deep conditioning treatment on my hair and someone told my mom that the foil would act as a heat conductor and my hair would end up super silky. Well, I don't know if that was the outcome, but I DO remember feeling like an idiot with that damn foil cap, and being pissed to high hell there was a camera involved.

But as they say, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.

I am soooooooo gonna be stuck in Shady Acres retirement home. I just hope she doesn't fill my denture bond tube with Preparation-H, and my Prep-H tube with my denture bond....

And So It Shall Be....

2009-08-19T17:35:00.003-05:00

MUCHO MOJITOS MONDAYS!!!!

It was going to be "Mucho Madness Mondays" but then King of New York Hacks had this fabulous idea! Then I got to thinking....reliving some of our mommy moments and back in the day debacles might make, those mojitos more of a necessity than a desire...so the name sticks!

So.....come back on Monday and make us laugh! Well, come back before then too...you never know what sort of insanity honey, 10, 12, and 2 months will coax out of me!

Will it be.....

2009-08-17T05:16:00.000-05:00

I want a "special day" for my blog...but not Worldess Wednesday b/c everyone has that....I was thinking Mucho Madness Mondays where everyone shares their funniest mommy stories....or funniest "back in the day" stories...something to get us laughin' as we start the week off....

ANYONE HAVE ANY OTHER SUGGESTIONS/IDEAS?

Mylicon, Will You Marry Me?

2009-08-15T14:03:00.007-05:00

Not too many posts ago I made mention that I have often contemplated purchasing stock in Trojans. Well, I may be going broke because mama just discovered MYLICON.

Now before I wax poetic about the beautiful little blue box, let me first say TO ALL MY MOMMY FRIENDS WHO READ THIS AND DIDN'T TELL ME SUCH AN AMAZING PRODUCT EXISTED - YOU'RE ALL DEAD TO ME. To my expecting mommy friends who read this - I expect my name to be listed somewhere on that birth certificate.

OMG MYLICON! Where have you been the past three months of my life?? Seriously. For the last three months I have been dealing with a beautiful baby girl who burps like a Kappa Sig frat boy, and farts like she's been eating Taco Bell since day one! Seriously! I've never smelt such rank baby farts. And the crying. Don't even let me begin....the one thing I LOVE and WANT TO COMMIT MOMMY-CIDE over (that's when you just play dead for a while hoping dad will tend to baby - make sure you don't blink too much or you'll give yourself away) is my daughter's strong will. At three months the girl is no quitter when it comes to getting what she wants, which leads me to believe that this may carry on into her formative years and I will have one successful little munchkin on my hands. HOWEVER....at 2 in the damn morning you're wondering if she will even make it to her formative years if she keeps it up. *NOW HERE IS MY DISCLAIMER FOR YOU UBER-SENSITIVE MOMS OUT THERE - I'M JUST KIDDING!!! I WOULD NEVER EVER EVER IN A MILLION BAZILLION YEARS DO ONE OUNCE OF HARM TO MY DAUGHTER. QUIT DIALING CPS* But seriously ladies...ya feel me?? We've all been there.....

But then....in walked Mylicon....small in size but HUGE in effect (much like, and UN like some boys in my past)....1 tiny little drop to the inner cheek and I swear on my favorite pair of panties (I'm still wearing my maternity panties - haha) she was out in LESS THAN ONE MINUTE! ONE FREAKIN' MINUTE YA'LL!!! That's less time than it takes me to breathe again after inhaling a nose full of one of her farts!!!

Seriously. Mylicon, I heart you.

I Love It At Your Own Risk

2009-08-11T13:16:00.006-05:00

In today's time it is very VERY easy to decide to just drown your sorrows in a large bottle of Jose Cuervo Black. Trust me. I know. I HAVE BEEN HAVING A STARING CONTEST WITH ONE FOR THE PAST WEEK - BUT I THINK I'M WEARING IT DOWN.

I would totally do it though if there was some sort of guarantee I wouldn't wake up tomorrow with a raging headache and an evil trip to the potty....anyways, in lieu of drunk dialing/texting/blogging, I am going to make a list. A list that I will share with you at the risk of being laughed at, pointed at, laughed and pointed, called a heathen, losing followers, and my mother finding my blog and phone scolding me. So feast your eyes, grab your bibles, get your throw up bag....here is a possibly long list of 50 THINGS I LOVE AND AM NOT AFRAID TO ADMIT TO (not to be confused with 50 THINGS I LOVE AND WILL TAKE TO MY GRAVE WITH ME)....

1. my daughter (like you didn't think she would be number 1...well let me not lie..she almost wasn't..my steve maddens were jockeying for that spot)
2. my honey (as with my daughter, he almost lost out to my purses)
3. Ben n' Jerry's Chubby Hubby Ice Cream (i don't share it. don't even ask. don't even get close to me when i'm eating it. i'm not responsible for injuries incurred)
4. sushi
5. hooker heels (that's what i call my fave pairs of stiletto's)
6. wine
7. puerto rican food
8. italian food
9. food my honey cooks (eat your hearts out ladies - he's in culinary school)
10. food.
11. the word "bitch" - as in "my bitches"....or "yeeeeaaaahhhhhh bitcheeeeesssssss" not at all meant in a derogatory form, but as a term of endearment shared between me and my closest girls
12. compromising positions
13. complicated positions
14. compromising while in complicated positons
15. ketchup on white rice
16. martini's
17. good coffee
18. my honey's fuzzy back (i know - i never thought i could either)
19. the way my daughter smiles at me as soon as she opens her peepers and we lock eyes
20. writing (obviously - i spend HOW MUCH TIME on here daily???)
21. FRIENDS (the tv show - not my own...JUST KIDDING GIRLS!)
22. Vince Carter, Jason Statham, The Rock, and Idris Elba - in no particular order...they all make me drop trow...
23. oral communication
24. aural communication
25. the fact that some people don't get #23 and #24
26. make up
27. the fact that my honey still thinks i'm hot when i haven't shaved my legs in three weeks and my hair is a hot mess....or maybe he's just a horny bastard trying to get some...either one works for me
28. the looks on people's faces when i start speaking spanish
29. trying to copy something Samantha and Smith Jarrod did
30. trashy celeb gossip (hel-lo...i'm puerto rican...that's what we live for!)
31. the fact that my mother refers to Jennifer Lopez as "Jenny" or "la Jenny"...as if she is part of the family
32. coupons (i'm cheap and broke and not afraid to hold your ass up in line presenting my $50 in coupons)
33. the fact that so far i have found 33 things i love
34. MY BIG ASS
35. good beer - YUUUUUUUUMMMMMMMMYYYYYYY
36. butterflies
37. being a neurotic first time mom
38. the way my honey looks at me
39. thursday nights
40. my purse collection
41. having sex in the morning
42. naughty texts, emails, phone calls from my honey in the middle of the day
43. HAVING A JOB (which i don't have right now but want desperately so if you know someone, or you are someone, and you or someone you know needs someone - hook a girl up - PLEASE!)
44. the fact that i have found ten more things to love since the last time i typed this sentence
45. The Holy Trinity
46. pork rinds
47. cracklin's (i just discovered these and YUM...but you can only eat so much at one sitting - otherwise it's baaaaaddddd news)
48. cheese - lots of it....even though it makes me a tad bit gassy (i'm lying about that "tad bit" part)
49. having a clean desk
50. having a neurotically organized pantry (i might be a tad OCD...just a little)

What do YOU love, oh reader of the blog?

June Cleaver Would Give Me 2 Thumbs Down....

2009-08-10T23:25:00.004-05:00

So...I have been out of the loop for a hot minute....grandma came to visit,ruined the munchkin, and I have been trying to rehabilitate her to the way Mommy and Daddy do things.....no offense to you grandma's out there....but ya'll are like crack to a baby....ya hold 'em and hold 'em and then leave us to deal with the withdrawals....thanks ya'll....in the words of our most idiotic genius Paris Hilton - "that's hot"....

Munchkin is asleep...honey is asleep...and I...well I'm blogging....about - well, nothing...but in my nothingness I am also reminiscing on days long gone...and secretly wondering if my daughter serves as God's assurance that I will never return to my party girl days without feeling a shred of guilt....Will I ever partake in another keg stand (hahaha....this time my boobs won't suffocate me)...Do i still get to make out in parked cars until the windows get really steamy so I can finger draw inappropriate pictures on the window (didn't know stick figures could do that did you?)....and what about the shacker walk o'shame....me and my shacker SHACKED UP! My walk o'shame is from the bathroom to the bed and the shame comes into play only if we had mexican food for dinner (don't act like refried beans don't mess ya'll up too...it's like a battle of the butts in our house - hard to believe that coming from such a prima - i know...lol)........

But really...what happens now....does my life turn into June Cleaver? Am I required to wear an apron and whisper the word "sex" and sip my Chardonnay and never drink beer out of the bottle???? What about cursing?? I like to drop an F-bomb every now and again....it makes me feel good...Sometimes I like to do all of the aforementioned in the same day...I like to clean my house in booty shorts, a tiny tee and my highest heels...I figure if I have to do the damn thing I might as well be hot doing it(besides - the heels TOTALLY keep your calves engaged and gives you a killer workout...try cleaning your ceiling fan with them on - beats ANY weight thingy at the gym)...But if I do this, will my apron burst into flames...like - what if I am relaxing with a Blue Moon screaming F YOU at Rachel Ray on my television (my favorite pastime)...and then later on I say out loud to my honey - "let's go have some hot sex" (my other favorite pastime)....at that very moment what happens...does my womb seal itself up forever because I have exceeded my lifetime limit in ludicrousness and can no longer be considered a candidate for a good role model for children? Does Martha Stewart show up at my door and demand her cookware that I bought on sale at Macy's back because a potty mouth like me can not be trusted to make delicious desserts and set gorgeous tables (which I do btw - and sometimes when they don't work out right I drop an F-bomb)? Basically, what I want to know is this: Now that I am a "mommy" do I have to deny to people that I sometimes can relate more to Samantha than I can to Charlotte, that I think beer is man's best invention next to push-up bra's and NYC hot dog carts, and that every now and then I contemplate purchasing stock in Trojans (haven't started my pills yet - next cycle I swear)??

I think all of these things as I sit here and think of what to blog about...and then I hear the one thing that not only makes soda shoot out my nose, but also reassures me that no - nothing really has to change too much...the guy on tv has just put on a pair of "manties" aka "man panties"....this is the funniest thing I have heard all day. June Cleaver would frown in disdain...I revel in the hilarity of it all...my inner 20 year old lives on...so here's my new question...would it be inappropriate to partake in a "tasty beverage" while feeding the munchkin? Is that just pushing it a bit too far? Hmmmm....What would Samantha do??

The Longest Day Of The Rest Of My Life

2009-08-05T22:28:00.011-05:00

The commercial says "Having a baby changes everything". I used to hate that commercial. Who doesn't know that?? Especially being that I have worked in child development and family empowerment for the last ten years - that was just wasted airtime and breath...even the 16 year old boy with the knocked up girlfriend knew that - that's why he freaks out DAILY.

Then today happened - and the know it all knew nothing. In order for you to fully understand the magnitude of this freak out session I have to give you a bit of history. On May 14, 2009 Emory Yvonne Webster entered the world. Aside from her being incredibly white (um....do we look any BIT white??) and having a bum arm (my girl's got Erb's Palsy ya'll - say your prayers it goes away), she was perfect. Not a spot on her. We (okay well, I) enjoyed 4 glorious responsibility free days in the hospital and then brought our sweetpea home. So far so good - nothing had really changed as the lame-o commercial SWORE it would, and little Miss Know It All (i.e. ME)went on knowing it all. Then about 4 days after bringing Em home this little pink dot showed up on her right temple. It was teeny weeny and I thought nothing of it. When it didn't go away after a few days I decided to just keep my eye on it and remember to ask her doctor at her 2 month check up. When a month and 12 days went by and it went from a small pin prick of a dot to this raised, red bump it was more than enough to make the know it all take pause. I showed my honey and we agreed it didn't look right, we didn't like the fact it was growing, and we wanted her doctor to look at it sooner rather than later. Our doc agreed to bump her 2 month visit up 2 weeks and saw her about 9 days after we called. Naturally I, the first time, neurotic mom was all kinds of nervous and worried but good old doc was very casual about the whole thing.

"Oh that? That's just a hemangioma, or a strawberry mole. Nothing to worry about. They are fairly common and they go away on there own - usually by the time the child is 6-9 months. It will continue to grow and others may pop up - but I promise you - nothing to worry about."

Okay, so neurotic mom is happy and breathing again and all is right in the world. Buuuuutttttt...as with all neurotic moms - one doctor can't know it all. Sooooo..I call my girlfriend who is an opthamological plastic surgeon and ask her about it. She asks me to email her pics of it - which of course I do IMMEDIATELY - and she agrees with doc - typical strawberry hemangioma - nothing to worry about. Doctor number three says the same thing. So I leave good enough alone. HOWEVER - by this point the once teeny weeny is now FREAKIN' HUGE

and I'm just NOT feelin it. BUT all doctors agree and one is personally invested since she's one of my best friends - so high maintenance know it all neurotic mom decides to just chill and let the hemangioma from hell do it's thing.

Until today.

Today the commercial that I long before loathed played over and over in my spinning head. Today, while sitting watching a video at the WIC office my daughter began to spontaneously BLEED FROM HER HEAD. At first I couldn't tell where it was coming from - then I spotted it - the hemangioma. The "no need to worry" pin prick had now swelled to a size too big for its own good and was now relieving itself in the form of blood running profusely down my daughters face. Yes, you read right. My daughter began to spontaneously bleed from the thing I - first time neurotic mom - was not supposed to worry about.

ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?????? Excuse my language - I really try not to curse on my blog but NOBODY SAID ONE FUCKING THING ABOUT SPONTANEOUS BLEEDING!!!!!

So I run out of the office and ask them to call a doctor or someone that can help me because I don't know what the hell is going on. (I should make mention that during this entire ordeal my daughter is totally chill - has absolutely no idea that her head is leaking) While waiting for the paramedics to show up I called my honey and advised him of what was going on and within 8 minutes he was there. Mind you at the normal speed limit he was a good 25 minutes away, and within those 8 minutes she stopped bleeding. However, the paramedics advised that we should just take her to her pediatrician - the same pediatrician who said "IT'S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT". We follow their advice and on the way there I mentally prepared the verbal bitch-slap I'm about to give her. She didn't say crap about this bleeding thing so in my mind I was right and she was wrong and I was going to demand a referral to someone/somewhere better. Might I add that while we were in the waiting room the spontaneous bleeding started up once again.

I WAS FUMING. My fear and concern had morphed into pissed the hell off. That verbal bitch slap was getting longer and louder in my head. Finally her doc calls us in and I'm all set to let her have it. But she beat me to it.

"See here - look at these pictures of other children who have had hemangiomas. They are all much larger than Emory's. And look here - it says right here that bleeding and ulceration is normal. It's part of the process and is usually a sign that it is starting to go away on its own. See - this is all part of the process...IT'S NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT."

I question her again and again - confirming that it really is nothing to worry about. I read the passage in the medical book over and over again - not fully believing that there was nothing to worry about. But there it was - "Bleeding is typical and common for hemangiomas". So that was it. Plain and simple. My child is going to bleed from her head until this hemangioma thing goes away. Nothing to worry about. Nothing nothing....nothing.

This is going to be a really long rest of my life if she's gonna keep giving me "nothing to worry about"......

Krogers Helps Save Beautiful Shoes

2009-08-02T00:59:00.004-05:00

So if you go back a couple of days, you will find the post Drinks Are on Kroger in which I so lovingly inform ya'll about saving money and buying shoes (or drinks, or shoes to go drinking in). Some of you ladies were shocked that I could find name brand heels for as low as $10. Well I hate to brag (excuse me, would you mind dusting off my shoulder please?) but here is yet ANOTHER example of Krogers contributing to my Save The Beatiful Shoes fund.

Eat your hearts out ladies!!!

Pre-Baby Weight + Post-Baby Shape = Pissed Off Mama

2009-07-31T23:39:00.003-05:00

Just when I thought I would have absolutely NOTHING to blog about today, my fat ass and grocery bag belly showed up, showed out, and saved the day. Yay for my ever-so-fragile-since-i-had-a-kid ego.

My daughter has her christening on Sunday and I, being ever so fashionable (even while I was pregnant) decided I needed a new dress to wear to church too. So off Ms. Emory and I went, thrilled because it was her her very first COGNIZANT venture to the mall. It was my opportunity to school the munchkin on all things fabulous like SEPHORA, M.A.C LIP GLASS, and THE DILLARD'S SHOE DEPARTMENT (I swear I could live there..really). We looked and we strolled and we strolled and we looked and finally, mama found something worth trying on.

Feeling pretty confident (I've been back to my pre-baby weight since 2 weeks after giving birth), I marched my eager - yet apparently very wide behind into the dressing room. Armed with 2 strapless dresses and a pencil skirt, I prepared my eyes for all KINDS of hotness. Instead, my retinas were burned out.

WTF??????

HOW THE HELL DOES MY PRE-BABY WEIGHT NOT EQUAL MY PRE-BABY SIZE?????? HOW????? That makes absolutely NO SENSE whatsoever!!! Who the hell said it was okay for the two not to match up again? Even my daughter had to look away in shame. SHAME! I swear I heard her coo to the baby in the room next to us that I wasn't her mama. How sad is that? Two months old and already knows that something just ain't right about trying to squeeze overflowing boobs into something strapless. The jugs, which I once thought of as sexy and luscious, now looked 2 OVERSIZED CHOCOLATE MALT BALLS! And not in that "ooohhh I got the biggest piece of chocolate in the easter egg hunt" kinda way.

No matter how much I sucked in, tucked under, pushed out, and tilted up, the fact of the matter was that my once curvy hourglass of a shape now looked more like a plastic tumbler cup you buy in bulk from your local grocery for ten cents each: big, round, and ridiculous. I was forced to face the fact that for the time being my Jessica Rabbit days were over...or at least temporarily on hold. My tummy is reminiscent of a Kroger grocery bag - brown and wrinkly...and I've held on to a few lovely parting gifts - vericose veins. I always thought after I had a baby I would "bring the sexy back"....shiiiiiiittttttt....sexy has run so far in the other direction I couldn't even find it with mapquest.

And I thought I wouldn't have anything to blog about today.....

*no pictures today - I'm sparing your eyeballs*

And Then God Laughed....The Breaking of A Girl In Control

2009-07-29T11:54:00.010-05:00

So there are things in this world I have a certain disdain for. Wet socks when I'm wearing them. Wet feet on tile floor. Rachel Ray (long story - hop to the end - chick almost burned my house down). People that smack their lips when they eat. Things that affect me but are out of my control. And now I have a new one to add to the list.

Plan B.

Not Plan B as in "what I'm gonna do if Plan A doesn't work". Plan B as in the morning after pill that is supposed to act as your PLAN B because PLAN A worked a little too well. The Plan B that brags about letting you have "control over your body and life". The Plan B that didn't work.

If you didn't figure it out from the above let me spell it out for you.

Girl met boy
Girl and boy fell in love
Girl and boy do the deed and aren't so careful
Girl says to boy:
"I love you dearly but I don't think I'm ready to be a mommy yet, so I'm going to go to the doctor and pick up the morning after pill tomorrow - PLAN B"
Boy says:
"Ok. I will go with you for support."
Girl and boy go to doctor and get PLAN B a full 10 hours after not being careful
Girl takes pills EXACTLY as directed and feels relieved that the little mishap has been taken care of

I should also mention that due to various health issues on both sides, neither one of us thought I could really get pregnant anyway. I had also tried for a year and a half with my ex-husband and it never happened, so this PLAN B was really just a "just in case" thing for me.

Fast forward 3 weeks. Take a listen to my brain.

"Aunt Flo should be coming to visit today. Hmmmmm....I'm not cramping. This is odd. I'm never late. My body is like clockwork - every 28 days for the last 20 years. I'm never late. Maybe I'm just stressed. If it's not here tomorrow I'm taking a test."

3 weeks and one day.

"That was a weird dream. My tooth came out. I'm pregnant. Titi Mimi always said if you dream of your tooth coming out either you're pregnant or someone close to you is. I'm pregnant. I know I am. I'm buying a test this afternoon"

6 hours later.

"pee pee pee....wipe wipe wipe...glance over at stick after 30 seconds of peeing on it....WHAT THE ^$^#@!&()*%!!!!"

6 hours and 2 minutes later.

UNCONTROLLABLE LAUGHTER. Seriously. Rolling on the floor, tears rolling down my cheeks, LAUGHTER. I called my girlfriend (who coincidentally was also pregnant) and she had the same reaction I did. IT WAS JUST UNBELIEVABLE. How could I - the girl who had tried dilligently for a year and a half, had a tilted and shifted uterus, AND HAD TAKEN PLAN B be pregnant????

Here's how. God laughed.

Seriously. God laughed at my earnest attempt to stop HIS plan. He laughed his happy, heavenly butt off and said "Yeah right girl. Like you have ANY control over this...I run this show - you're just along for the ride." So that was it. I was pregnant. Somewhere, floating around in my tilted and shifted uterus, a space previously occupied by ummmm....NOTHING....now supposedly had something in it. BIZARRE!!!

I hadn't told Boy yet but decided to do it over burgers. Had him meet me at Fuddruckers, and when he showed up I was shoving the biggest, sloppiest burger in history in my mouth. He should have known right then that I was knocked up. I rarely eat burgers. So he shows up, pulls up a seat and says all cool-guy like...."Hey baby - what's up?"...and like a 5 year old about to get her hand slapped I look down at my behemoth of a burger and just stare. blankly. not blinking. not speaking. not breathing. nothing. Then, it happens. The barely audible whisper which was really just moving lips and no sound.....

"I'm pregnant."

"What?"

"I'm pregnant."

"What? Baby I can't hear you. What are you saying?"

"I'M PREGNANT!"

Pause for reaction. And when I tell you I got more reaction from the table next to me than I did from him, I'm not kidding. The lady totally stopped drinking her soda and just stared at us. Cool-guy response:

"Wow. Cool. Congratulations!", as he leans in for a smooch.

However, he can't kiss me because I'M CHOKING ON THE AIR TRAPPED IN MY LUNGS FROM HYPERVENTILATING!! Did he hear what I just said? Does he realize it's his? (I'm no Samantha) He heard me. He knows it's his. He's cool-guy. I'm panicked girl. And up there in the heavens is laughing God. Fabulous. So finally, I manage to inhale and I'm like "Dude - what the hell?? I'm pregnant. How the hell am I pregnant?? I took Plan B." And then he says it. And I look at him. And I resist the urge to slap the "cool-guy" right outta him.

"I guess God had other plans."

And there it was. The plain, simple, hilarious truth. GOD HAS HIS OWN PLANS. I can plan all day, stay up late organizing and plotting, but what it boils down to is if He doesn't say so, it's a no-go. And so that was it. I was bound to be round. Knocked up because we didn't sock up. In the family way due to too much play. You get the point. So I geared up for the ride, said a little prayer since God was determined to run the show, and held on for dear life.

So fast forward 9 months from the Fuddruckers incident (oddly enough we haven't eaten there since) and my Plan B mishap is here.

The Fabulous Ms. Emory made her way into the world with much fanfare (taken at 38 weeks due to pre-eclampsia), and is here until God makes other plans. She has completely taken over my life. She determines when I sleep, when I eat, WHERE I eat, how I run my errands - SHE is in control, not mommy. But I guess that's what I get for attempting to make plans. That's okay though. As God has gotten me through life - I'm sure he will work through her to get me through this mommy-hood thing too. Good thing she's cute though. It's much easier to take orders from a cutie patootie, than from say - GOD.

The Drinks Are On Kroger

2009-07-27T17:41:00.004-05:00

So, I have absolutely NO QUALMS WHATSOEVER admitting that I am a cheap bastard. I buy my purses at Goodwill and The Salvation Army. And yes, the rumor is true. I am THAT CHIC that purchased an antique Givenchy, authentic Louis, AND a Burberry clutch for the combined total of $4.75. I like nice things. I just don't have nice things money. I refuse to pay full price for anything - ever. Not on food, not on clothes, not even on Martini's. I resigned myself to spending money on things for myself ONLY if I absolutely love them. If my heart stops when I see it, breathing becomes scant and I find myself in a catatonic state - just staring at the object of my affection - it comes home with mama. If not, on the shelf it stays with all its reject friends. This is how I live my life. Sidenote - this works with men too.

So naturally I get excited on Sundays when the newspaper comes out. And if I'm going to be completely honest with you, I get the paper Saturday night so I can clip my coupons and do my shopping first thing Sunday morning. OCD? Sure. Why not. I'll take that. But here's the thing you may not know. I was laid off from work when I was 8.5 months pregnant, and still have not been able to find something full time. I am budgeting a family of 5 on one feast or famine income (honey is in commission only sales), and a bi-weekly unemployment check. Those two combined have to cover mortgage, car note, groceries, utilities, out of pocket doctor visits, and anything else that may come up. Not the easiest feat but it's better than living in a mud hut eating soppy rice with my fingers. If that's the alternative, I'll take the feast or famine paycheck of my love.

However, I just discovered a little something that has saved me the most I have EVER saved at the grocery store...so I pass it on to you - in case you don't already know. Which you probably do. And I'm probably late to the game. Again. But I showed up and dammit I know SOMEONE doesn't have the info.

www.afullcup.com - online coupons, who's having deals, weekly specials

www.shortcuts.com - online coupons that you can download directly to your grocery store savings card (THINK "KROGER REWARDS" CARD)

www.pgesaver.com - online coupons from manufacturer PG&E that you can download directly to your grocery store savings card

So I went to all of the above websites today before I went to the grocery store, downloaded my online coupons, stuffed my clipped coupons into my handy dandy neon green coupon organizer (call me crazy if you want to but who's the one with the $2 Louis?), and the flyer with this weeks specials and headed off to see just how much I could save.

Hold your breath, ladies.

Mama saved $23.62!!!

That's a full tank of gas. My home gas bill. Two awesome pairs of stiletto's purchased at Ross (seriously ladies, I have 4 pairs of Steve Madden heels in my closet right now - $10 each!).
(my favorite Maddens) A pack of diapers. Two cans of formula. 4 MARTINI'S (which I could still enjoy if my daughter hadn't stolen my taste buds)!! Do you see my point ladies???? How can you be against being cheap when it could lead to cute shoes and essentially free drinks?? If you ask me, that is the world's BEST trade off! Shower cleaner for shoes??? Does it get much better??

HAPPY SHOPPING!
(for shoes or shower cleaner - whichever...eventually you'll end up with both)

The Fabulous Ms. Emory

2009-07-27T07:42:00.009-05:00

I Just Heard My Hair Grow

2009-07-26T22:04:00.003-05:00

For the first time in 42 days my house is quiet. No television. No radio. No baby crying. No honey snoring. No kids running/jumping/screaming/whining/breathing. Just silence. It's so quiet I think I can actually hear my hair growing. No lie.

It may seem silly to many but for the last month and twelve days (yes - I COUNTED....so what) our home has been filled with constant noise. From about 10a.m. until about 2a.m. (yes - i meant that - 2a.m. - as in all day, all night, and into the next day again). Because of course you can SAY be in bed by 1 a.m., but then don't get mad when you wake up at 2 to get a drink and 10 and 12 are still up watching cartoons with a look on their faces similar to yours when you experienced your very first "contact high". You know...that glazed over look that says "I know I shouldn't be doing this but...dude, pass the cheetos."

For the last 42 days I have heard "Baby have you seen my _______ (fill in the blank)"....."Can I hold the baby"..."Can I feed the baby"...."How come she/he gets to feed/hold/put to sleep/sit next to/look at/breathe the same air as the baby"..."What's for dinner"..."What's for breakfast"..."What's for lunch"...."Its my turn to hold the remote - you had it thirty minutes ago"...."sdgnls odioi g ls ;sofi hg dg 'gogvknd ogh"....

Oh that last one didn't make sense? That's because that's how it started to all sound in my head....like the garbled rantings of a swedish exchange student with a severe speech impediment. I would love to say the only sound I want to hear right now is that of my daughter's newfound voice....but honestly...not even that right now. This evening she cried so much (because 10 and 12 couldn't leave her alone long enough to take a nap) my poor girl is hoarse...HOARSE!!! AT 2.5 MONTHS! So no...I don't even want to hear her voice right now....I am totally content listening to my hair grow...and my fingers tapping on this here keyboard.....

In the bank of me silence is not golden...it's platinum.

Pregnancy Did Not Make Me Blonde....

2009-07-26T11:00:00.003-05:00

Apparently I've always been this way....

So I totally get that when you are pregnant, you become a bit air-headed. If you are already a little blonde at the roots (as is the case with me), well your life becomes the fodder for dinner time laughs. Who am I kidding - my life became fodder for ANYTIME laughs! However, I was under the impression that once you pop out the brain cell stealer, your brain returns to normal size from its previously shrunken state, and people will once again believe you when you tell them you are college educated. I was not so lucky. Here is a list, in no certain order, of ridiculous things I have done since "the blessed event", otherwise known as giving birth....

1. In preparing a bottle for my child I forgot to put the nipple in, and attempted to feed her. Instead she received a milk bath. (Can we call that a spa treatment instead of a mommy mishap?)

2. Grabbed the wrong bottle after her bath and actually rubbed her entire body down (face included) with diaper rash creme instead of lotion.

3. Almost put her diaper on backwards, but thought it a much better idea to put her ONESIE on backwards.....and INSIDE OUT.

4. Packed her diaper bag complete with bottles and water and everything. Get to my destination an hour away from home only to realize that I have left her formula on the kitchen table.

5. Accidentally put her formula in my coffee thinking it was my creamer. (That's what happens when you are so sleepy you make coffee with your eyes closed.)

6. Took her to the salon with me in an attempt to have our very first mommy-daughter diva day, actually thinking she would sleep through the entire thing. Thank God my stylist is in love with my daughter because this could have ended very, VERY badly. I could be bald.

7. Agreed to have sex again.

Ok, so looking at the list - 6 screw ups in 10 weeks isn't so bad (that last one is just "my bad"). That's roughly 1 every 2 weeks....and with odds like that she should make it to 18 fairly sane, and in one piece. Me on the other hand, I'm not so sure. I'm not exactly batting 1000 here, but she's still breathing, right? She gives me a look sometimes as though she's wondering how on earth she got HERE through ME. I let her know in no uncertain terms that I am wondering the same thing, and we continue on making faces at eachother. She's cute as can be, and quite the little lady in her tiny state.

Let's just hope her hair stays a nice, solid dark brown. No blonde roots. Or else we are both in a hell of a lot of trouble.

The Controversy

2009-07-22T09:58:00.003-05:00

So there's this notion floating around out there that it's a bad thing to put your relationship with your significant other ahead of your relationship with your child. I am not one of those people that subscribe to that notion. I think it is IMPERATIVE that my relationship with my daughter's father be stronger than anything else in this world - aside from my relationship with God. If we (her father and I) are on the same page, moving to the same rhythm, we will present a strong united front for my daughter, and a strong united front for US. We have that confidence that we can make it through the storms because of our mutual respect, love, and trust.

BUT.....

What happens when your significant other makes decisions in private that put your family at risk publicly? Is there enough trust in your relationship bank to get you through something that has made question not only the man you love, but your own common sense? What happens in that relationship when your left feeling foolish, betrayed, and hurt - all at the same time. Your relationship is thrown into a dizzying spiral of what?? Do you stay or do you go?? Does the love change? If so, does that change make you stronger or is it the beginning of the end? Or do you stick to the notion that your relationship with each other needs to forsake all others....

Therein lies the controversy...

Babies and Frat Boys - Strange Correlation

2009-07-19T15:27:00.003-05:00

What do a two month old baby and a 21 year old frat boy have in common?

Thrush.

My doctor described it as a yeast infection in the mouth - apparently very common in babies (really??). While one is contracted by the presence of some sort of bacteria on say, a nipple or pacifier that the baby has put his/her mouth on, the other is contracted by the presence of some sort of bacteria "somewhere else" that the frat boy has put HIS mouth on. No need to go into details.

So where is the true story you ask?

I knew a boy who thought he had contracted "thrush" after being with a local dorm girl who informed him after their date that she was "baking bread", if ya know what I mean.

As a memento, his friends (me included) left loaves of bread in front of his door for a couple of days. He wasn't amused - but we were.

Once a Cosmo Girl...Always a Cosmo Girl??

2009-07-19T08:43:00.001-05:00

So, if given a truth serum you would come to find that I never expected to be pregnant. Due to some pesky fibroids that think my uterus is a warm cozy place to rest, and the fact that Father Time was having a hay-day with me...I just didn't see it happening. And I was okay with that - not initially of course but eventually it was like "hey - I can have martini's anytime I want - you have a child curfew...HA!"

Then, as if the Gods of fate and irony teamed up against me, I found out I was pregnant after a night of downing many, many (many) martini's.I laughed hysterically in disbelief. Called a girlfriend and she laughed hysterically in disbelief. And then I told my boyfriend. And he drank. Outrageously. In disbelief.

So this was it. I was prego. But I refused to let go of my Martini days forever...they were just temporarily on hold. And I was okay with that. I had to share my body for nine months and give up a certain level of freedom once the little one arrived...and I could concede to that. But give up my signature drink?? The drink that not only once led to me being carried out of a bar (oh don't act like it's never happened to you...), but also was the starter of the conversation that led me to the love of my life - give it up??? You'd have a better chance getting Dolly Parton to admit that more than just her hair is fake. I wasn't giving up my cosmo's.....no way, no how, don't even ask.

However, it seems like once again the Gods of fate and irony have stepped in and decided to have their way with me. Last night was my first night out with my girlfriend since I had the body snatcher - er - i mean baby. I was so excited because there was finally going to be a reunion between my lips and that sweet martini glass I missed so much. When the waitress brought it out to me I swear you could hear trumpets playing - it was truly a moment worth savoring. I eyeballed it with eager anticipation and then took the first sip like it was the first kiss with a lover I hadn't seen in years.

And then I spit the damn thing out.

SON OF A BITCH!!! WHAT THE HELL IS THAT??? It tasted nothing like what I remembered it to taste like...whatever they were trying to pass off on Mama Martini was ass-water. So I sent it back and tried a different, supposedly equally yummy martini. The waitress waited by the table as I took the first sip, waiting nervously, eyes glazed over in anticipation, hoping to get a big thumbs up. Poor girl. What she got was a look that said "F you". And I didn't feel bad for it either - until I remembered something about my pregnancy. While I was pregnant my tastebuds changed. Things I once loved, I would have traded in for a plate of dirt and a spoon. And the one thing you CAN drink while you are round, red wine, became incredibly bitter and disgusting to me. And so as Captain Fate and Captain Irony teamed up to become Captain Kick My Ass, I mourned the loss of my dear friend - the martini. We had many a good night, and plenty of great ones. It led me to the love of my life, which led me to an even greater love - the love of and for my daughter.

However, as the late, great King of Pop said....gone too soon. I shall miss you dearly, Cosmo.

Princess Poopie Pants and the Diaper of Death

2009-07-16T19:49:00.000-05:00

As I type this blog, my 2 month old daughter sleeps peacefully on the bed next to me. She is wrapped up in what USED to be MY robe, but has now become HER blanket. Since she can't seem to fall asleep without Mommy or Daddy holding her, we've decided to pull a big, fat second grade SIKE(!) on the little one and let her THINK we're holding her, when really we are just wrapping her in clothes that smell like us (which could be a good thing or borderline child abuse depending on the day and time), so that we can continue on with our lives.

From the den of all things loud and obnoxious, otherwise known as the living room, I hear my twelve year old almost-stepson getting loud (and yes, obnoxious) and my fiance' getting louder. I am thankful to be tucked away with my darling, sweet, beautiful princess...the world outside my door is drama filled, tv blaring, and ummmm...yeah I just noticed that it's also fresh air filled. That darling, sweet, beautiful princess that I just ranted and raved about just filled the fresh air of our little sanctuary with the worst smelling poop this side of the Jersey Turnpike. How could something so incredibly foul come out of something so tiny?? It's not like the girl was up pounding back Milwaukee's Best all day (come on, we ALL know cheap beer makes for a stinky morning)! All she drinks is formula - and SOY FORMULA at that!!! Damn. And because I have holed myself up back here, I am the lucky contestant who gets to change the Diaper of Death.

As I turn my daughter onto her back I pray to the good Lord above that He might spare my nostrils, that they in fact WON'T burst into flames as soon as this evilness is unleashed, and that He would let me live to see another day. Of course that means that I run the risk of meeting the same fate tomorrow, but I will take my chances. Just as I finish giving myself my last rights, I look down at Princess Poopie Pants. She is bright and shiny, smiling cooing, and completley oblivious to not only the load in her diaper, but also the rumblings going on outside our door. Yes, 12 year old and fiance' are at it yet again - and she could care less. All she sees is mommy, and all she hears is mommy's voice. And apparently that's all she needs at this point and time. That's when it hits me like - well, like the smell of her Death Diaper hit me. Poop is temporary. In life. In your pants. On your finger...it's temporary. It doesn't matter and is fairly insignificant. But true, real, love...the love that you give and get just because you are fabulously you....well now that's the real deal. The economy is slow? Ok. Having trouble making that car payment? Alright. My 12 year old almost-stepson threw a dirty diaper onto the roof of the house and then lied to me about it and I had to find out the truth by getting onto the hood of my car (and almost broke my neck), getting the bag down and smelling it myself after it had been out in the hot Houston summer heat for the past 48 hours? That sucks. Okay, that way more than sucks. WAY MORE. But then my tiny inchworm of a daughter spits up into my bra, and as I feel the already digested formula nestle itself in the confines of my cleavage, I look down. She is looking up at me adoringly, showing me all her non-existent teeth. Her eyes twinkle as if to say "But I love you mommy!", and that's when it all goes away. Because she does love me. And I love her back. Even if her behind IS toxic.