8x365 Chris

This is a memory that resurfaced after a loooong time, seemingly out of nowhere. Do you ever have moments like that? Where it's like, "Holy crap, how could I have forgotten that?!"

Chris was a man I was contemplating sleeping with when I was...um...23? 24? I dunno'. He was pretty good-looking, but not the sharpest crayon the the box, ya' know? Anyhow, I remember sitting on my living room couch with Chris. We were watching tv, and all of a sudden he leaned over and blew in my ear. Not a forceful blast of air, almost imperceptible,but I felt it. And I asked him, "What in the hell was that?" Chris told me that he had heard women were turned on by a man blowing in their ear.

Needless to say, I did not sleep with him.

It's Haiku Sunday, Imagine That

The baby ate peas
and then he learned to zerbert
Mom ran for cover

You're Not Human

At work we were passing around a birthday card for a coworker. I walked it over to the desk of L for her to sign.

She holds up her hands as if she were warding me off and says, "Oh, I don't do birthdays."

What the fuck? You don't DO birthdays? How in the fuck do you not do birthdays? I am all agoggle over this, and it has been bugging me all day.

Everybody has a birthday. There is no possible way that one can not "do" birthdays.

Hope Springs Eternal or Something Like That

I have a secret.

I have a dream.

I've had a dream for awhile, not really a dream until now. More of a...moment in passing, a fleeting "what if?" moment. I finally reflected on how this passing thought makes me feel inside. Each time unrecognized, but finally it sprang into clarity a few moments ago...

I would like to write a book someday. I've thought about it. In college years ago, most of my free units were English or Lit classes. I read all the time. Books are my friends, an escape, it's always been that way. But to actually write one? Yeah, right. What would I write? I can read, fersher, but could I actually write a book? Do I actually want someone to read it? I know, I know, that's what books are for, but you know what I mean, right? The main concern being what in the freakin hell would I write about?! My thought of writing a book always ended there.

I did it. I know what I'm going to write about. I have a plan. An outline of sorts. There's a place inside of me, where my heart would be, I'm imagining. And in this place, as I'm thinking about this step that I took...the step where a fleeting thought becomes A Plan. My heart gets a fluttery and I want to smile. Just a tiny smile, but a good smile. No timeline, I might be fifty years old when I'm ready to share my creation with anyone.

I'm ready to dream again. I haven't wanted to in such a very long time. I wondered where I had gone, the real me. I'm still here, Me!

Seriously, The Bathroom Thing Again?

When I am standing at the sink in the ladies room washing my hands, I see you exit your stall. I see you rinse your hands in the water and then leave. I see you NOT use soap.

So when you offer me a baked treat that you made at home and I don't take one? That is why.

Ten Things 'Bout Whatever

1. The other morning at work I bitched about how fat I am getting. Then I ate four doughnuts. WTF?

2. I tell Husband we don't have any money, but then I buy myself a breakfast sammich on the way to work.

3. I don't participate in organized religion, but I would like my children to have godparents. Only I wouldn't want them to be called that. I just think it's a great way to honor a true friend.

4. I got my tubes tied a few weeks ago. I did something called Essure, and in three more weeks, I can have all the unprotected sex I want. Husband doesn't know what he's in for. Woohoo!

5. J3 is six months old. When he wants his bottle, he says "Ma ma ma ma ma". He is saying "milk", but I sometimes pretend he is saying "mama".

6. J3 is teething and he has caught the sniffles from his sister. He doesn't sleep, which means I don't sleep. I am super fun to be around right now.

7. J1 is a snotty snotty almost-twelve-year-old, but sometimes she is great fun to be around. When she lets her snotness go, she's pretty darn witty and we have a good time together.

8. I almost ate cookie dough for breakfast. Almost. Instead I had toast and coffee.

9. J3 is napping right now, and what the hell am I doing? Blogging. Not sleeping. Blogging.

10. I forgot to take my antidepressant last weekend, and the sides of my head started to...umm, what's the word...tic. Twitch. Right above my ears. I could put my finger on my scalp and feel the vein twitching. It was annoying and annoying. I didn't realize that it was the lack of meds until I started taking them again and it stopped.

11. I know I said ten things, but what the hey. Husband took my "let's conserve electricity" talk to heart and now he unplugs the cofee pot and toaster from the wall when he's done. I only realized this because I waited ten minutes for my toast to pop up this morning before figuring it out.

Wipe Yer Ass

I went to the bathroom at work the other day. I go to the bathroom a lot, actually. See, I decided to take up a bad habit, and I chose coffee. I don't like the smell of cigarettes, I cannot afford shoes right now, and being a tweaker doesn't have any appeal. Coffee was a good choice, yes? The caffeine to keep me a little more alert, the warm deliciousness on a cold morning, what could be the downfall? (I'm ignoring the voice that is yelling "caffeine headache! diarrhea!")
The downfall actually being that coffe makes me pee like crazy. I travel down the hallway at work every hour to pee.
The other morning I walked into the unisex bathroom to find....poop on the seat. Seriously, poop on the toilet seat? Who DOES that?!! Who takes a crap, does a shitty wiping job (like that pun?), turns around to flush, and doesn't wipe off the freakin toilet?! Not to mention what's on your ass!
Would you do that at home? Leave your poop on the seat? Nasty nasty. I did NOT use that bathroom. I have not used that bathroom since. I want to hang a sign that reads, "WIPE YER ASS". I wonder how that would go over...

From The Mouth Of J2

Husband: I'm going to the store, do you want anything?

Me: Ummmm....nope. I'm good.

J2: Where are you going?

Husband: To Guam.

J2: Oh. I don't want anything then.

So Sad

J2 looks sad. She stands in front of me and says, "Mommy, I'm sad. [J1] is going to tell her friends that I don't like cake. And I do like cake!! I don't want her to tell her friends that."


I tell her, "You know you like cake, right? So I wouldn't really worry about what your sister's friends think of your cake preference."

Then she nodded very solemnly at my sage advice.

Twelve Is Looming

J1 gets bigger and snottier and more like a teenager every day. I miss my sweet innocent baby girl...who is this tween full of attitude? Oh wait, this is the payback my mother said would happen one day. Okay, I get it now.

Blue Eyeshadow

I used to be a very put-together women. I used to match and accessorize very very well. No longer am I that women, due to two big factors. The first, I have gained too much weight to wear my clothes, and my feet either grew with this last pregnancy, or I'm just too fat for my shoes. Which is sad, because when I lose the weight and cannot fit into my shoes, I will have to buy all new shoes. The second factor? I'm just to damn busy. I work 40 hours a week, I have three kids, a husband, and a house to take care of. I don't have to do dinners, but laundry has my name on it. So does homework, reading logs, Back To School Nights, doctors appointments, making formula for the baby, and making sure the older two don't whine and tattle each other to death. I wake up a 5:45am and I don't stop until about 9:30pm. And even then, J3 wake up once for milk at about 1:00am.

My routine is much simpler these days. On a good day, I get a shower. My husband asks me why I take so freakin long in there, it's because I am cramming two days worth of not showering into one morning. After I get out of the shower I put expensive potions on my face. (My one of two "me" things I still have. The other is my hair appointments.) I put on my clinical strength deoderant, because for some reason regular deoderant doesn't work so well for me anymore. If the baby is still happy, I will apply some eyeliner, pale tan sparkly eyeshadow, and then a green sparkly shadow along my lids. I like green. I look good in green.

That's it. I get dressed, deal with the baby, and leave for work. Do I brush my hair? Mmm...sometimes. More often than not, nope. I don't mess with a lot of the stuff I used to...hairbrushes included. Anyhow, back to the topic at hand. The eyeshadow.


My friend Laura was over a few weeks ago. She has a daughter a little younger than J2, and her son was born just two weeks of J3's birth. Her husband and mine can get together and watch UFC fighting on tv, so it all works out well. One night, we were having Girl Night. The meant that Laura did weird stuff to my face while I panicked and asked her things like, "What's that gooey stuff? Does that hurt? Does that burn? Why are you putting that on my face?! Ow, my eye!" Laura asked me, "Do you wear green eyeshadow every day?"

....."Um....yeah? Why, does it look bad?"

Laura replied that it didn't look bad, but maybe sometimes I could do something different with my eyeshadow.

"Why?" I asked. "If it works for me, then why stop?"

She then said, "Do you remember the eighties? Have you seen the women at WalMart who wear blue eyeshadow? They once said to their friend 'If it works for me, why stop?'."

So I dug out some other eyeshadow the next morning. Every day that I actually care enough/have time I apply something not green.

But only sometimes. Because green really does work for me. At least for a few more years...

Kick-Ass Hangy-Thingy

At two months, J3 loved his kick-ass hangy-thingy. I know it's called a mobile, but to him, his kick-ass hangy-thingy was "his friends". We would ask him, "Do you want to go hang out with your friends?" He was infatuated by it. The black and white images kept him entertained for hours. Okay, not hours, but precious minutes fersher. You could almost see his mind working out how in the heck to move his hands so he could grab at those things!






















At five months old, J3 finally figured out that he was now Big Enough...and oh! The delight in him finally getting to rip down his friends was a joy to behold. He has discovered that his friends actually taste pretty good too, so no problems there.