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.