upgrade. up grade. can I get an upgrade?

So if you noticed in my "guest post" I said I was wearing a fake engagement ring.  Thank Tom Cruise, and God, that I noticed that my stone in my engagement ring was loose.  I immediately took it off and stored it in a ziploc sandwich baggie.  I mean, double locking.  Wha what?

I took it to a jeweler yesterday only to find out that it's going to take a while to get back... a while and some $.  SOoooooooooooo I have decided to upgrade.  For only $12.95 at Nordstrom Rack you can treat yo' self, too.

I also plan on a lot of hand gestures.  Nice ones.  Like ladies.  With fake rings would make.

It also came with a wedding band, but I decided to "settle" for my real one.  I mean, that would just be overkill.  And, I'm nothing if not overly classy.

And TBH, y'all.  So you don't think I'm a COMPLETE biatch... I love my engagement ring.  And, when I've mentioned "upgrading" to Ben in the past... it was met with a blank stare.  Much like when I told him if this BB2 is a boy we'll just have to have another one.  And that my friends, will leave your husband staring blankly at you in an OBGYN's office.

watch the ring... watch the ring.

I found out I was pregnant yesterday.

Ok.  that isn't true.  Unless, you are using G$ terminology and then "yesterday" means any time that is not right now.  He gets this from Dr. Black who will tell me that mystery food in the fridge was just from a few days ago (usually meaning... three weeks ago.)  I am the fridge cleaner outter. Obvs.

We found out in July.  The 5th to be exact.  At camp.  I wonder how many positive pregnancy tests have been taken at camp?  I'm thinking the numbers could be a surprise?  Either way, I've known for a really long.  arse.  time.  A long time to not inquire about double bobs.  To not casually talk about where the hell we are going to put BB2.  Or if all 2nd babies get hand me downs and no fancy gliders, and not a fancy crib, and you know, will like live in the corner or something.  Then I think about how I didn't even have a baby book (I like to bring this up to my mother,) and I'm like yep... totally normal.  Granted, I've printed like 2 pictures of G since he's been born so sorry BB2.  You'll probably only get 1.

So that's where I've been.  Stuck in a hole of not being able to talk.  (even about those "other" things I said I can't mention), with a 2 year old who refuses to nap more than 45mins to 1 hour, who can now throw massive fits, who says adorable things like "THAT COOL BUS HAS A STOP SIGN, MOMMY!", or not as adorable things like ear piercing screaming.  He is squeezable.  And a mess.  And if I can love 2 people this much it will be a miracle.  but I hear having 2 is kind of miraculous that way.

So there you have it.  I'm in the "family" kinda way.

Breaking news--

I guest blogged.

It's breaking news.

Arranged marriage.

I've seen it work.  On tv.  And clearly, these 2 are destined for stardom.  I mean, those eyes?  those cheeks!

Our BFF's came in town for a minute (said in Ben's least favorite terminology to mean... not very long) this weekend.  The children?  Precious.  So precious that we forgot to take many pictures because well... we were laughing about all of the stories we should probably not tell them when they are older.

My boyfriend's back and your gonna be in trouble.

They paint.

They watch videos of themselves.

Hopefully not a view of the teenage years.

We love Aunt Mary.

It's a new kind of cleaning service.  

They are cute.  I can't lie.  I love them.  They played SO well together.  It was kind of amazing.  Granted, G has now taken on a SCREAMING AVOIDING BEDTIME life.  It makes me want to beat my head against the wall and drink 8 glasses of wine at 1:25.  That's less cute.

Yesterday, we were going out for a walk and I had clothse drying and G said, "Mama's bra.  I put it on."  And there ya go.  His head is fully supported.

Y'all gone make me lose my mind.

Our kitchen cabinets (read, not yet counter tops) are finally installed.  As of about 6 pm last night.  Now that the dust has settled... everywhere... I'm allowed back in the house.  We demoed this weekend (recall my rubber mallet issue?) and then they came on Monday morning to start the process.  That would take until about 3:30 on Monday and they'd be done by noon on Tuesday.  We had to kick them out at 7 on Tuesday and they left at 6 pm yesterday.

Everything that was in our kitchen is everywhere.  Living in chaos makes me chaotic.  It makes me have a need to bust out the bleach and put it in my steam mop and disinfect toys and clean all day for hours.  And probably (not) tackle our laundry pile.  I know it's bad when Ben wears a work polo to work.  Yikes, sorry about that.

You know what I can't do?  All of that in the 40 minutes that G slept this afternoon.  He is in a nap revolt.  That involves about 45 mins for me to eat lunch, decompress, do laundry clean up, (read blogs.)  IT IS'T ENOUGH TIME. It is definitely not enough time for me to get crazy.

Saving grace?  Dinner with my lovely friend Vickie from Whine and Babies.  Mostly  our early bird dinners consist of wine, talk about babies, husbands and eating sushi.  It's sanity making.  I need it to happen more often than it does.

Other saving grace?  I read today that Blossom was in a car accident and one of her fingers was almost severed.  Thank goodness it wasn't.  What would we do with Amy Farra Fowler missing a finger?

Less sanity making?  Impending guests at our house tomorrow afternoon.

I have things.

I have things to blog about. 

But I can't.  I mean, like a  LOT of items that might make you say, "WTH, mate?"

It's stifling.  I feel so hindered. 

Keeping this all in... is exhausting.  I could use a nap.

Our green thumb.

And by "our" I mean the royal "our."  As in.. I don't do yard work.  I'm more of an inside domestic worker.

g loves to water the plants.  And I read an article and decided we should have a strawberry plant.

Finally.  we have 2.  griffin is pretending to eat them.  Then scrunchy facing it.

Please note... I did take down about 1/2 wall of back splash last night and sub-sequentially hit myself in the chin with a rubber mallet.  Ben took out the rest of the back splash.  The cabinets.  The counter tops.

Either way... focus on MEEEEEEEE

I RIGHT HEE-ERRR (here said in country accent.)

My toddler has an accent, y'all.  No clue where it comes from.  Ben blames me.

He is big into hiding.  And claiming to be stuck.  and "OH NO, I STUCK."  "Mommy, I hiding."  Where are you Griffin?

I RIGHT HEEEREEEEEE.

Today was all about hiding in the couch cushions.  With lambie of course.  No lambie left behind.  I think Laura Bush started that one.  There was also a lot of calling "MAAAAAAa!"

POSD

Post olympic stress disorder

I have it.  and I'm still watching the closing ceremony (which so far I find to be boring, but it just started so I'll cut them some slack.)

here are some shots from the opening night.  we haven't had time to take any othe rpictures.  because the olympics is on.  hense the posd.

This is serious G$.  You will be neglected for 2 weeks.

But I still love you.

Who wants to wear a grill in a medal ceremony? RIDICULOUS.

Whatevs mom.  I do what I want.  Then ask why.  

Lets get these pictures over with.  We've got olympics to watch.

One question for ya

Is this bi-chichle tainted?

a little bit of conversation.

Sitting on the couch snuggling and having a snack...

me:  Griffin, I love you so much.
Griffin:  No tank ew, mommy.  I eating.  I not talking.

Griffin:  I wanna go see daddy.
Me:  Ok, lets go home and see him.
Griffin:  Why?
Me:  Because you said you wanted to see him.
Griffin:  Why?
Me:...
Griffin:  I wanna see daddy.  We see 'em.

Griffin:  I see glammy and poppy.
Me:  Well, we'll see them soon.
Griffin:  Why?
Me:  because we love them.
Griffin:  Why?  Where toodles?
Me:  At glammy and poppy's house.
Griffin:  why?
Me:  Because she lives there.
Griffin:  Why?.... I wanna see glammy and poppy house.

signal the why's.  and the little stinker comments.  I listened to him ask Ben "why" about 5x tonight about brushing his teeth... then heard ben go into detail about why we have to brush our teeth including plaque build up etc etc.  Long pause... why?

I kind of was under the impression this waited for 3?

Sometimes you lose to win...

... or the time I shit my pants.  Whichever you prefer this to be titled.

Last night watching the women's gymanstics olympic finals I recalled an event that had been blocked out of memory.

I like to give Ben a hard time because I think his odds of shitting himself are really high in comparison with the average person.  Granted, usually he's sick... but he also says, "sometimes you gamble and win.  sometimes you gamble and lose."  I'm all whaaaaaaaaaaa?  I NEVER shiz myself.  Ever.

Except last night I remembered a time that I did.  Gymanstics competition 1992.  Floor excercise.  Final event.  Navy blue leotard with light blue details, (thank gawd not the white one.)  I won.  I think because my legs were so tightly sewn together... because of the shitting myself.  I remember being sick.  I remember doing a backflip and thinking, damn, I just shit my pants/leotard.  Good thing I'm about to go change into my sweatpants with a pair of gap boxers adorably/awfully placed over them and go to six flags for the rest of the day with friends and see TLC.

It was a memorable day.  That I forgot.  Until now.

Don't go chasing waterfalls.

Super protein angel food cake.

so I wanted to make this.  Ben is working crazy hours this week (and last week... like got home at 2:45 last night.)  I wanted to make something for him to eat for breakfast, and because I like a delicious treat... and we had all of the ingredients except oat flour, which I went and got.

The first attempt I didn't read the directions well and threw everything in and blended it up.  Fail.  Ohhhhh I see you need to beat the egg whites first (stupid me) and so I started over.  And you know what?  My effing egg whites would not stiffen.  How many times have you read that in a blog?  They just couldn't get it up.  Jerks.  So I wasted 3 cups of egg whites.  And we had no "birthday cake" to celebrate with.  Griffin thinks all cake is birthday cake.  For him.

So... FAILED IT.

gymnasticos.

As a future olympian, I'm constantly studying my gymnastic competition.  I am banking on my coconut oil to help me shrink 2 inches so I can be considered tall and also lose 50 lbs so I can be long and lean and "international looking like the judges like."

Like Komova.  which I hear comb-ova every.  single.  time.

Gabby Douglass looks like a tiny Michelle Obama.

They also don't wear sports bras.  I guess because they don't have to.  (oh, I better lose some bazooms, too.  Maybe that happens when I lose my 50?)

And they love a shiny leotard.  (check.)

They love the sparkles in the hair.  (high school me, check.)

They love a scrunnci.  (elementary school me, check.)

They love a clippy.  (baby me, check.)

They also have receding hairlines from the scruncci-clippy combo which will assuredly give them the comb-ova in later years.

So maybe I'm not gymnastics material.  damn it.  I hear bad mitten has some openings?

Wrinkles.

I like to combat them.  Well, that comes and goes.  My desire to not have them remains, but my strategy against them isn't always amazing.

However, I've been hearing, (reading on the interwebs,) about the miracle cures of coconut oil.  Specifically, this one.  It will change your life.  Take away your wrinkles.  Moisturize your hair.  Make you not have to get your face waxed off.  (It doesn't say that, but I wish it did.)  I do not have an extreme facial cleansing system.  It's really basic grocery store stuff--minus this stuff the lady at sephora told me I needed and I'm sure that I did... do.

I await the day that G says "wassat, mommy" and points to the deep creases in my forehead and I'll say, "those are your fault."  Mostly, because I'm all about being honest.