As seen on TV

So I don't impulse buy.  Basically ever.  I like research.  I like lists.  I use a paper calendar.  I decided a while back that I wanted a curling iron now that my hair is longer.  Today, I decided it was "the day."  I have not researched at all so I bought an "As seen on TV" conair variety that came complete with Michael Jackson glove.

For real.  I has a three finger glove because there is no clamp for your hair.  Let me tell you, I'm not that coordinated.  The curls were AWESOME, however, the ends... .look like when you would curl with the pink foam curlers (yowsas) or hot rollers (which I used a LOT in 8th grade) and you didn't get the ends turned under (which is why I had my mom do the hot rollers for me.)  Soooooooo I returned to le grocery store and got a different one.  I had to admit to the girl in customer service I couldnt' use it (keep in mind only 1/3 of my hair is semi-curled.)  So I get another one only to bring it home and it WON'T TURN ON.  Soooooo the Dr. Black is returning it for me.  Love.  Twuuuuuuuu love.

I also bought some magic eraser for the under eyes.  I usually buy at a fancy counter, but today, HEB.  It's awesome. It is dreamy.

Oh, and in my alternate universe when I was originally checking out with the original curling iron the sweet high school girl asked me excitedly if I was going to curl my hair for NYE.  I just responded, "Yah!  I think so!"  Leading her to believe that we were not drinking wine and grilling steaks at our house with our sick baby and most likely I will get in bed and read my vampire book.  I thought she'd find that not as exciting.  Hey, I'm just trying to keep her dream alive.  Really, it was about her.

At the expense of others...

Work has not offered you any tales as of late.  However, today I will let you know of 3. 

One lady has decided to throw caution to the wind and wear a full on Jose Cuervo ensemble (sans bottle of tequila.)  Today, I was also taken aback that she is wearing a full on Michael Jackson shout out, complete with knee high boots, kacki riding pants, and a blazer with epithets.  Also of note, spell check does not recognize the word Cuervo.  Tee totalers.  I would have got a sneak shot, but alas, I didn't have my phone on me as I had walked down the hall at the nerve of them sending an email to let us know that the water was turned off for some unforseen reason and the city didn't have any workers in our area so until further notice, please don't use the bathroom here.  Um, doesn't that mean, go home? 

Anywho... this is all leading up to Windpant Winnie (not her actual name.  Said co-worker regularly espouses ridiculous commentary on cultural events, wears windpants as "business casual", saves ribbons from our work gift exchange, and is over the age of 70.)  She went to the eye doctor last week to get contacts.  He put them in her eyes to make sure they were the right ones.  Yesterday, she went for her follow up.  The eye doctor said, "You don't have any contacts in."  She disagreed.  She had not taken them out.  Looked again.  No contacts.  At which she reported that he had put them in her eyes LAST WEEK and she had not removed them.  Um, he had also taken them out of her eyes at that same first appointment and she HAD NO IDEA.  No clue.  She had not realized all week that she was not able to see.  Omg.  I question so many things in that story like who decides to wear contacts for the first time past the age of 70?  How did she not realize that the doctor had removed the corrective lenses?  Did she just think her vision had not improved?  Who wears contacts for a WEEK?  I could go on, but should refrain.

Christmas 2011

Last christmas G was 5 months old.  FIVE.  Tiny.  He sat up for a surprisingly long time playing a keyboard from 1987 and wore a bow because we found out Courtney was having a girl.  He also couldn't take things off of his head.  the child wears NOTHING on his head.  Ass.

We had a pretty fab Christmas spent with family and friends, and friends of friends.  We spent Friday night with our BFF's and their little girl (G's future wife.  My future daughter in law to whom I promise I will NOT be crazy.  Wait, I promise I will be only fun crazy.)  She taught G how to say "mine," and they gave one another lots of kisses, and wanted to share nothing.  We had an amazing time.  Ah-ma-zing.  Then we had fun with Ben's fam.  g racked up on the gifts--an awesome tent--played in this today, I MUST upload pics.  They are adorbs., a book of places we need to go, a bear that talks, TALKS I tell you, money from his great grandmother, and an outdoor playscape.  Awesometown.  I'm not going to lie, we also got the hookup.  And we ate well so I'm not sure what is NOT to like about that... other than a toddler who doesn't want to be contained and had reached his limits by about 6 pm.

Ohhhhhhhhhhh presents.  That I can rip the paper off of and then obsess about putting in the trash vs. actually playing with it.  YES.

Cutie.

The process of sharing.

Don't let her fool you.  She clearly loves him.

"leaning back" in glammy and poppy's bed.

Being cute.

We went to my parents on Sat.  Went to church on Sun.  Had gift opening at their house after the kids napped.  We were again blessed with LOTS of presents.  Including a personalized Sandra Boynton book for G$, a ball popper, blocks, instruments, books, cars, I could go on and on.  I got an adorable apron, Ben got $ to the homebrew supply store, we enjoyed giving, we ate bacon, we ate lots of other food, we drank, we played a super fun game, and we laughed and laughed and some of us "eyes shifting to the Dr" took tequila shots with my Uncle.  (My uncle who likes to challenge ben, and my husband who can't refuse a challenge.)  It was a great holiday.  We love being wiht family and can't wait to move closer... which isn't happening any time soon.  Sigh.

Until then, we'll keep coming to visit.  Bringing all our stuff, our 2 dogs and our 1 child.  Pardon the fact that there are not currently any pics of the niece and nephew.... I didn't look great in mine and I'm so shallow that I'm not posting them. More to come!

17 months!

Lately I hear a lot of "Mama, Arrrrrrrreeeee you???"  Meaning "Mama, where are you."  It's hilarious.  And adorable.  And I encourage it.  Even when I'm right in front of you.  This may be confusing.  Whatever.  I take cute over smart any day.  I kid.  I kid.  (please stay cute.)  He also likes to put a ball under something and look at me and say, "Where go?"  and hold your hands out.  I love it.  a lot.  You also love Santa--when we see him through our window or on tv.  You constantly ask to watch "baby" on my phone.  Which is you.  You love you.  You think you're hilarious.

You're a pretty good eater.  though you refused cookies tonight.  And weren't a fan of chic fil a.  I need to start feeding you crap more often so you can be like me.  You are sweet.  You love mama right now.  Love to give me zerberts on my tummy.  You also "sing" along to the Olivia song.  (YESSSSSSSSSSSs you have my singing voice. Which is not good.)  You have the memory of your Aunt.  You remember everything.  When we drive up to places you remember what we do there... which today meant milk from starbucks in target.  I avoided and succeeded.  I win I win!

You've started testing your limits.  Which I think is funny and exhausting.  When I tell you something is hot you blow on it like I blow on your food.  You're a character for sure.  You make us laugh daily and I have a hard time believing I could love another baby the amount I love you (this is not an announcement.)

I love you from your head to your toes and everything in between.  Especially that belly.

I look young?

So G$ and I bought some wine at the grocery store the other day and the checker CARDED me.  I was in heaven.  He then told me he was WAY off and thought I was MUCH younger.  Clearly, we are going to have a love affair.  I never get carded anymore.  I blame the baby.  Yet another reason for teen pregnancy?  That and the body bouncing back thing.  Pretty much just the body.  Damn you teenage girls.

Anyway, so in order to keep up this farce of youngevity I need some face help.  I know I've posted about this before, but I need some anti aging stuffs.  So what I've been doing is washing with dove extra sensitive or whatever bar, (I've re-introduced the clarisonic after buying a "sensitive" head), and then I use cetaphil cream as my moisturizer.  I know.  High maintenance, right?

(Please note I've also recently purchased a new facewash because it was in the checkout at sephora and basically got it for free... well, that or my bumble and bumble hair spray... also at the checkout.)

SO I was researching some anti aging stuff and here is a consideration--could I just buy a serum and put it in my cetaphil?  I use that cream all over.  I'm a one stop shop.  Fo sho.  I also buy the up and up brand because I'm frugal.

I've got forehead lines.  Me no likey.

gender differences

So yesterday we got new tires for the wagon (the vulva, as ben's friends call it... which still makes me laugh.  Yes, I realize it's sexist.  Still funny), paid a zillion dollars for a dog I currently want to strangle, and Ben broke his iphone4.  Yes, I am saying Iphone4 because it's pertains to the following conversation.

me:  So did you get the new iphone?
B: no, I got the new version of my old one.
me: So you did get the newest one?
B:  no.
me: So you got an iphone4?
B:  yes, a new version though without scratches and stuff.

Um, so then just say that you got the same one.  I realize it's new.

Our brains do not work the same.  at all.

chit chit chit chit chit

So Ms. Maggie Mae has been peeing in the floor lately.  I mean, I know she's dumb, but she IS potty trained.  Today, G and I got home from an errand and she didn't get up to greet us.  So to the vet she went, and almost $300 later, the vet basically told me that he thinks it's behavioral.  Awesome.  So because we came in from the car, and basically immediately left, and my child had pooped his pants I had to change his diaper on the vet table.

Good parenting?

The other day I dropped Mac N Cheese on the floor and said, "shit." to which G responded "chit chit chit chit chit".

Amazing parenting?

Today my baby said a SENTENCE.  "I done mama."

I probably deserve an award.

PEEKaboooooo

Anyone watch Up All Night the new comedic genius show with Christina Applegate and Will Arnette?  O. M.  G.  So the first show was a little trial and error of being serious and funny--which didn't work, but totally reflected my life so I kept going.  They've fully embraced themselves and Mia Rudolph so life is good.  There is this episode where they go to a kids music class and get schooled in peekaboo.



Well, I went to a music class with G$ yesterday (and a friend and her little boy--who is adorbs.)  In this music class they had some "communal drums."  So while we were singing some song I don't know and trying to be enthusiastic about it while no one can actually hear me sing.  g is watching us tap the drum and so I take his hand and show him he can hit it... in which case I was reprimanded.  "Parents, remember that we don't make our children touch the drum.  That is teaching them OUR muscle memory and not letting them learn their own.  We never make them do something they don't want."

At which point I tried to contain my, "Oh no you didn't" face and adequately go back to being a good parent.  (that is trying to do all of the right things.)

Balloons.

They sound sweet, they occupy G$ at the grocery store, and we still have one lodged in a tree from his bday... in July.

Want to know what makes them less sweet?  When they are lodged in your face.  This is right friends.  Yesterday I had what Ben calls a "face enlargening surgery."  You can read more about it here under Balloon Sinuplasty.  I also had a turbinate reduction.  So six balloons (three on each side) and a drill maneuver on both sides and somehow I miss the fact that it would hurt.  I think it was all overshadowed by the fact that I got to take an antianxiety pill.  I know, I shouldn't admit that I was interested, but I was.  Well, I didn't really take it early enough, apparently, and apparently I'm not super susceptible to the numbing agents, and I'm OVERLY susceptible to the endorphin shot that makes my heart race (also reduces bleeding?)  Well, it hurt like a mo'fo and gave me a raging headache.

And THAT is how balloons are not fun.  Other than the whole fear I have that one will pop and I will swallow it and suffocate.  Thanks, mom.

All in all though, the recovery is not bad at all.  I will hopefully stop saying "my face hurts" all of the time because I will be CURED.  I mean, I heard all of the muscles and cartilage move.  MOVE.  I heard it.  It was kind of awesome.

But I'll leave you with this.  My baby likes to use the potty (actually has gone in it THREE TIMES) before bathtime... but only while wearing a beaded necklace.  He also drinks bathwater... which I find to be disgusting.  And the reason that he sits on the potty prior to bathtime.

Christmas cards.

*Most of them have gone out (not all of them).  However a lot of them haven't arrived and they were mailed like TWO WEEKS AGO.  I casually want to stalk people and see if they've gotten them  Is that weird?  Clearly not, right?

Because of pinterest, my source of all things crafty and awesome, I'm putting them on our cabinets with strips of ribbon.  So cute.  Ben also said, "Oh look!  We got another card from your blog friend"  Yep!  And we're getting one from ANOTHER blog friend, too.

I think he's jealous of my pretend friendships.  Which are real, just geographically not sound.

Side note... I was at nordstrom rack the other day and my heart about stopped when I saw a girl who could have been Bethenny Frankel.  I almost died.  Literally.  Then stared.  Then decided it probably wasn't.

Today's the day! We're on our way-ish.

SINGLE PARENTING IS OVER TONIGHT!  Ben is back in the US and should be on his way back to the ATX.  He's sick.  He got sick while in the Japan, tried to believe it was something he ate (because y'all, he ate some weird shiz.)  but now he is realizing he's sick sick.

I had plans.  I'm a bad wife because I'm really disappointed I can't meet my friend to go running in the AM.  For the first time since October.  I mean, I've attempted since then, but it hasn't worked out--screaming kid, rain, cold, hangover.  I had PLANS.  I was going to go meander around Target at some point even though we don't need anything.  I was going to maybe go to the gap and return something.  I was going to do something BY MYSELF.  Oh, news flash.  I'm also a bad mom.

Anyone ever been there?  Where you need a day off?

I was going to wear my new running tights.  Le sigh.  Pity party.  Party of 1.

Nope. Still not home.

To say I'm impressed with single moms is an understatement.  To say I'm impressed with single mom's who work is a gross understatement.  Y'all, getting to work by 8:15 is tough when you're alone and have a baby and 2 dogs.  I know.  I'm lame.  I shower at night.  Wait until G wakes up and hear him over the monitor, wait at least 5 more minutes (until he starts calling mamamamamam) and bring him downstairs at which he is STARVING.  Starving.  Absolutely starving.  He eats.  I bribe him with some 'Street (of the sesame variety) and I attempt to put on make up (while he is waving his hands saying up up) and get us both dressed.  My sister does this EVERYDAY (except the days her hubs is at home in the AM's) with TWO CHILDREN.

I've exhausted my groceries for myself (and fed my child a waffle and yogurt for dinner) and so ordered a pizza. And ate all of it.  And was awkward and walked outside before the delivery guy ever got out of his car.  Because I saw his lights.  Because I was waiting on him.  Because my baby was asleep.  And because my dogs would bark.  Awkward.  I'm awkward.

And full.

Do you ever think?

Heck yes.  I've got life together.  I'm fully dressed (and showered) and HAVE ON MAKEUP.

Then you get somewhere and someone points out that you have goldfish on your shoulder?

No?

I would gladly give up a late arrival, a cocktail (maybe?) and all other things I once enjoyed for a little fish shoulder.  They're sweeping the nation.

And suspicions confirmed.  I purchased my "mom jeans."  Yah, and a puffy vest--which needs to be returned.  Dang you Lisa and your gap friendship.

Latest annoyances

Are you ready for Ben to come home so that I stop posting 85 blog posts?  Yah.  I'm sure you are.  Too bad.  You have more days.

So 2 commercials that just came on after Big Bang Theory that bothered me--
1.  The latest ipod touch commercial with the guy in skinny jeans.  It bothers me.  Do not wear them.  Boys wearing skinny jeans bothers and disturbs me a little.
2.  A McDonald's latte commercial--they called it "expresso."  It's ES-presso. Bitches.

And now cute pictures.

mini cupcake... he like broccoli more.  

licking most of the icing off.  Gross.

He just learned he can swish stuff in his mouth.  It's adorable.

Other annoyances--Lexus commercials at Christmas time.  Ridiculous.  If someone gave me a music box with that "song" I'd be like wow... a music box.  I guess I really AM a mom.  Secretly, I hope someone gives me a Lexus.  

Baby Bear on Sesame Street.  I should not need to explain.  I'm sure I can come up with more.

A smidgen of narcissism.

So yes.  Three posts in one evening.  I know, it's exhausting for me, too.  The thing is... I would do this tomorrow but THREE TIMES TONIGHT I have forgotten what the hell I was going to write about.  I mean, I knew it was something (that most people aren't interested in) but then forgot everytime I was struck with a new stimuli... ohhhhhhhhhhh glass of wine, ohhhhhhhhh UPS guy with my computer and G's new child sized broom, ohhhhhhhhh Modern Family, OHhhhhhhh glass of wine AND a frozen pizza.  (Dude, I live it up BIG when Ben is gone.  Tomorrow I might have cereal.  Or cheese.  Depending if I make it to the store--which probably won't.)

Anywho.  So I made our Christmas cards this year through picnic editing stuffs.  they are by no means a high quality christmas card you would order from anywhere.  I also decided, in my sense of frugality to make them into a postcard.  It both saves the environment from some envelopes and the postage is cheaper.  Epic fail.  So the picture I chose didn't really fit on the normal card so it suggested the "large" card.  Sure.  It's a postcard, whatevs.  no.  no.  NO.  I opened them and was astonished.  I left them on the counter for Ben to find.  Here's the conversation we had at work.

B:  Hey, so I saw we got our Christmas cards.  They're nice.  (He's encouraging like that)
Me:  Yah, so you like them?
B:  I do.  They are really big.  I didn't realize how big they would be.
Me:  I was kind of hoping no one would notice.  Sigh.

They are huge.  Embarrassingly huge.  If you are to put it on your fridge or whatever other sort of decorator that pinterest has suggested it will take up the entire space.  We are that impressed with ourselves.  I did put a disclaimer on some of the cards... but for most of them I just had to take a silent jab wound to the jugular.  So you may not have gotten yours yet (some went out today... others have yet to be addressed.)  Don't judge me openly.  Only to friends we don't have and never will have in common.  Like you, Brooke.  You can complain.

Other tone of my narcissistic tendencies.  Everytime I get an email I'm like YAYYYYYYYY someone is emailing me.  EVEN THOUGH I JUST POSTED A COMMENT ON SOMEONE ELSE'S blog.  This means, that I'm getting emails from myself.  You win this time psyche.  You win.    

Tiny.

My tiny computer arrived today.  You may think... wait, didn't you get an ipad-ish thing?  And yes, yes I did.  However, I cannot type on it efficently or read blogs, or write emails, or upload pictures.  NOW I CAN.  easily.  And it's tiny.  And I can take it to bed.  Score.

All of this to mean that I am probably cooking my ovaries by keeping my computer in my lap in the evenings.  Seriously, I'm kind of worried about my future children.

I also worry about my current child.  The one who was super splashing around in the bath tub tonight.  Laid back on his back and was kicking his legs.  Having SO much fun.  It was adorable.  I was loving it.  Until a little turdlet floated up.  I had to dig a piece of poop out of the drain.

Being a mom is disgusting.  Is he too young for showers?  I don't think he can poop standing up.  

choo choo. down. mama. Ma-MAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

This was our afternoon.  G woke up kind of early from his nap which was fine because it's the perfect time to go see Danta (santa).  Only to get there and learn (via the lady behind me with one VERY VERY ADHD 9 year old boy) that it was an early release.  DANG IT.  Hello long line.

The train we rode last weekend was choo chooing around and G is basically obsessed with it.  He just kept saying "choo choo.  Where go?"

Finally our turn to see santa.  I go to set him in Santa's lap and he is clinging to me saying MAMA MAMA I set him down anyway because I'm a good mom who needs memories dang it.  Soon this brain will fade (kidding, that started with pregnancy) and I won't remember.  He cried the whole time even though I gave him a sucker.  After the pictures I rescued him and said, "Can you say bye bye to Santa?"  And through his big ol sad face tears he said, "bye bye, Danta."  Cutest.  thing.  ever.  Then I had to wait in line AGAIN to get the pics.

THERAPYyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

Prior to meltdown.

Where he pretends to fall down and say "uh ohhhhhhhhhhhhh."

Glee.

I desperately love a group dance scene.  Love.  I really want to be in one.  I really love performing and really love hate speaking in public.  Any sort of public.  Including family.  Dancing.  Yes.  Basically I need to interpretive dance all prayers from here on out.

I imagine Mike Chang's dad responding to his wanting to be a dancer the way my parents inwardly felt about me saying I was majoring in psych, sociology, and religious studies.  You know, they loved me and wanted to be encouraging but without hope for my future.  They of course didn't tell me this.

Another form of glee?  My friend owns a women's running store.  They had a Christmas party tonight and G and I went.  I desire basically everything in the store, but only ended up with a pair of running tights that I didn't have a chance to try on because well... G$ isn't a shopper.  He's a run around crazy-ier.  Prior to turning into a pumpkin, he gets crazy pants and is a huge ham that entertains everyone and really wanted to show people his belly, but was wearing a onesie.  OH THE HUMANITY.  He's a mess.  And I love it.

Did you know?

a couple of years ago on my bday.  With bevvies.  Pre child.  That's what my lack of chins says.

• That I over think things?  Like, in that one swiffer commercial where the lady is talking in a pretend Texas accent in full out chaps saying, "I'm just a piece of dirt stuck here in a rut."  And then... it says "dramatization" on the screen.  Um, really?  We didn't realize she was pretending to be dirt and then throw herself onto a dust mop?  Or was the dramatization that the swiffer doesn't work as well as it does in that commercial?  Or that they don't think peoples floors are actually that dirty?  My floors are regularly that dusty.  (except when I steam mop 85 times... then still.  dog hairy.)
• I don't know how to play the piano.  I wasn't allowed to have lessons because my sister took them.  We are not a musically inclined people.  (and because I did other things.  I didn't live a restricted life.)
• At this one camp I went to the cool thing was you slept one night on this big huge swinging bridge over a ravine (creek), and the girl I slept next to I didn't like so I pushed her shoes overboard.  
• I love buying people presents, and putting them in an excel file.  
• I don't mind when Ben goes out of town occasionally.  I watch bad tv, eat cereal and drink wine for dinner, and read the interwebs in bed.  
• I wait until G gets up from his nap to go to the bathroom.  Sometimes I think... if I keep waiting then I won't have to go later and occupy him while I pee.
• I ate an entire role of mentos the other day after an impulse buy in all of 5 minutes.  My teeth are probably rotting.  But they are the fresh maker so it's ok.  Ps.  What the hell is a fresh maker?  Is that some word that was in spanish and didn't translate well because I would think the fresh maker would mean that your breath would smell all minty and clean but it doesn't.  
• I make it sound like I have 80,000 cocktails a week when, in reality, it's only 70,000.  (meaning, I'm a lot of talk.)
• I like new clothes.  I habitually buy black and white shirts.  
• I continually think that I could be friends with celebs.  Like, good friends.  If only they gave me a chance.  And by famous people I typically mean their characters on TV--except Stacie and Clinton are real life.  Love them.  A lot.  I once emailed Clinton about guacamole.
• I've told 2 people that this is the first year I've put up a tree in this house after living here for 4 years.  Then I talked to Ben and he reminded me that we put it up our first year... we just moved the egg crate over that was holding our tv so there was more space.  I am thankful for furniture.  
• I giggle when they say "penetration" in football.  I'm simple.  I'm a 7th grade boy.  
• I wear flip flops 12 months a year.
• I'm embarking on my 6th team in training event in June.  I've fundraised for all of them.  I've raised over 17 thousand dollars... which is not even close to what it costs for ONE YEAR of education at my undergrad.  
• I knew nothing about finances as senior in high school picking higher education.  
• I drink well with others.  It's a lovable trait.  
• This is a completely completely random post.  

mom jeans.

I went to the gap the other day.  As I'm known to do.  And the lady who works there, Lisa, she knows me.  And the G$.  (It's all by it's lonesome so no mall going required.  SCORE.)  Anyway, I tried on a pair of jeans and then told Ben about them.

Me:  I saw Lisa today (roll of eyes from Dr.) and tried on a pair of jeans at the Gap.  I liked them because they come up a little higher.

Ben:  mouth open.  wow.  For when you stop being a woman and start being a mom?  Are you there?

Me:  Gap doesn't sell mom jeans!  (... but I know they used to.  I think that style has chosen to remain only in the LL Bean  catalog.  At the gap it used to be the "relaxed" fit though... I had some.  In the 90's.)

I'm a mom though.  Might as well start looking the part.

They were long and lean's.  In case you were wondering.

Our day in a nutshell.

It's a rainy day here. Finally. It's supposed to rain for the next 5 days or something crazypants. So I put together a goodl ol' cardboard box today (and buy put together, I mean put things inside of.) I do not like the noise of cardboard so this is PURE LOVE GRIFFIN, PURE LOVE. It's an activity box filled with shiz we already own. SURPRISE. MOMMY LOVES YOU. I read about it on some blog as a toddler activity that kept her kid busy for 45 minutes.

My child has never done anything for 45 minutes. Ever.

We had a really awesome afternoon going from thing to thing to thing, though. And he's pretty funny. With a new love of blowing his nose (complete with blowing noise) and pretending to go night night in random places. He just lays down and says "ni-ni".

Also new--he randomly points at things and says, "nnnnnnnnno."  Thank you Frannie.  A girl at his daycare says this.  it's awesome.  Or less awesome.  Depends on if it's your kid or not, I suppose.

He is also not a fan of spaghetti which makes me question if he's mine.  And uses yogurt as a dipping sauce for whatever he's eating.  Gross.

And I put out Christmas decorations.  Win.  And cleaned the kitchen.  I've yet to tackle laundry chair because well, she's a bitch.  She will take you in, steal your underpants, and taunt you.  Just asking you to put all of your laundry on her.  Then she'll inspire you.  Take your clothes.  Put them on the bed.  You'll put them away before you go to bed and then she's all TAKE THAT SUCKA you're just putting all of those clothes back on me!  What?  It doesn't happen to anyone else?

Should I mention again that I used to pretend to be Annie when doing my house work growing up?  Active imagination.  Full force.

Last year at this time...

This little peanut was 4 months old.  Ben went to Japan and we were home alone and I was obsessively reading the Hunger Games.  G was still living in our bathroom.  Which meant that we had basically moved out of our own room and took showers and everything upstairs.  This is G$ in the bumbo realizing how handsome he is while I'm getting dressed for work.  Upstairs. This is the time when clothes LIVED on our dining room table because well, I couldn't ever put them away.  Now our clothes mostly live in "laundry chair" that resides in our room where the once occupied by the glider.  PS. G now lives in his room.  And he's 16 months old.  And rode on a train today (at the mall.  With train conductor Kyle who also referenced himself as a professional whistler.... who has memorized over 100 disney songs.)  Conductor Kyle was a little creepy, but a good driver through a crowded mall.  I think he has a bright future.

All Aboard! 

Dare devil went back on after our ride was done.  Gotta pose.

He's been saying "Choo Choo" since we left.  Thankfully, not yet whistling Disney songs.

As Ben absolutely did not leave for Japan this morning, and it's raining for the next zillion days, we've got to fill our time and I don't think G likes obsessively cleaning as much as I do so I guess I'll do that after he goes to bed.

So until then I'm developing games.  Or something.  Getting paint?  Decorating our house?  Actually putting up stockings?  TBD.

I like big boots and I cannot lie.

Someone is obsessed with Dad's boots.  (not me, in case you were wondering.)  Moy moy.  More boots?  Yah!  He wants to walk in them.  Not just standing.  Standing is for lame-o's.

And because I'm an awesome mom, I often repeat "moy" because I think it's cute.  I know it's wrong.  I don't care.  I also am having a glass of wine at 2:20 on a Thursday because... well, I'm also doing 2 jobs in 4 hours a day.  Meaning working hours.  My admin asst is having open heart surgery tomorrow (chest bump to Bobb-o), and so I'm doing both her job and mine.  Oh, and my kid has been napping for approx 1 hour in the afternoons this week.  which means all I've done is eat some frozen waffles and watch Chelsea Lately and some Parenthood.

Um, but how cute is he?  And do these pictures also make you sing, "I like big boots and I cannot lie"?  I haven't made up the rest of the song yet, but it's going to be awesome.

Cheers.

*update.  he's been sleeping 2 hours.  I still have done nothing.  Other than now reference the LAST time I referenced "I like big butts."  Because who doesn't make multiple posts about that?

First world problems.

Here are my current ones.

I want to get G a kitchen.  We don't have space for it.
I want to buy him gifts, but don't want to travel with them for Christmas and travel back with them and really, don't we normally just get him what he needs?
Ben got me this new ipad-ish thing (android based) and I have no stinkin' clue how to use it.  Will I learn how to use this product?  I have no clue how to type on it.  Maybe not everyone searches the interwebs the way I do?  Meaning, I have blogs to read and random things to search for an put in my online "basket" only to not purchase them.  So do I keep it?  Will I learn?  Am I that technologically awful?  I need to edit pictures.

Help me.  Please.

Also considering a glass of wine.  I'm thinking yes, though.

Thanksgiving--a recap.

It happened.  We hosted again only this time I wasn't a sleep deprived gravy train of non-sense.  As much as a mom of a toddler can be, right?  I think that still counts as sleep deprived when your kid still wakes up.  Whatevs, though, whatevs.  I made an adequate amount of food.  The weather was fabs which meant we could sit outside, which meant we weren't crammed inside into a tiny living space, and......... there were drinks.  All in all a kind of fabulous holiday.  (Minus the fact that my nephew woke up puking on Saturday morning... or Friday night.  Technicalities, really.  All I know is that I saw a cone of vomit at least once.  But maybe we can ignore the fact that this happened because it was technically after t-giving.... though it was when my sister and I were going to splurge on pedicures--so nevermind, I'm counting it.)

Bubbles

Post ball throwing.

Uncle Chris.  Despite what it looks like... he does not have Mike Tyson face tats.  Just shadows.

Dada and G

So different from Christmas last year.  (which was a full fledged shit show.)

GQ?

Glammy, Poppy and their grandkids

Glammy, Brooklyn and G$

Glammy and Brooklyn

This is my favorite picture.

Cutie siblings.

Yay

Blue steel

Chase

Baby Brookly (or broo broo as G calls her, and has been saying for 2 days)

Yep.  Red solo cup.  Take it.

Boo. (ladder golf, G$ style)

Cookies.

Ell-Monkey (pre-puking)

Digging with sticks.  G was fascinated by everything Ell does.

Mama and food mooch #1. 

Manny and food mooch #2

Thanks, mama.

I Did it!!!

Best fam photo we could make happen.

My sister told us to be candid so I stuck my finger up his what what.

Did you follow that?

On a side note, my hubs and BIL were throwing tiny airfilled child balls in our backyard before I announced "BALLS ARE ALL DONE" because my husband also pegged my child in the head.  That happened.  I saw it.  G$ also screamed for approx 2 hours on T-giving night.  Less fun.  teeth are bitches.  He is not owning them the way I have taught him.  And finally... a picture from last year to show you how BIG he is.