...diaper!
No seriously. The. Worst. Ever.
I do most of the diaper duty because Brad gags easily and he knows I'm a sucker. It really doesn't bother me. Tonight was awful. Not even that disgusting looking. It just smelled horrible. I was gagging and hacking. Claire is laughing. Brad is on the phone with his brother & I deposit the half dressed baby on him. I couldn't even button the onesie or put her pants on. I had to get away from that smell. Brad is laughing - LAUGHING - and telling his brother about how I'm gagging.
I have to go back into the room to get the diaper. No way this one is going in the Diaper Champ. It is going straight to the out door can, if not the landfill. I start carrying the Kroger sack out and I'm gagging like I'm trying to regurgitate a whole watermelon. I make it outside and proceed to vomit all over the lawn. Not the quiet, discrete barf of a skilled bulimic, but rather a huge raucous yack.
The neighbor is outside grilling dinner. Bon Appetite! I'm sure they won't be inviting us over anytime soon.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
She Really Is Part Dog
I swear I did NOT stage this shot & she's never done it before. I figured after today's earlier post I had to share.
I found my quesadilla!
Hey! For those of you interested, I found my quesadilla! The one I posted about over two weeks ago?
Apparently I put it in the kindergarten refridgerator, mindlessly I guess since I don't remember.
It was far too old and disgusting to eat, but at least I now have closure.
Rest In Peace
Delicious Free Chicken Cheese Quesadilla
March 9, 2009 - March 25, 2009
On our way to two legs
I had a great blog all planned in my head yesterday. We ate Wendy's for lunch and Bean got to eat some of her Daddy's french fries. Starting her out healthy already eh? He would bite off the crunchy end and she would gum at it getting the mealy center out. It was sooooo cute and she was crawling across him to get the yellow container and decided if fries were good, his Junior Bacon Cheeseburger had to be great. I have pictures of her eating fries, grabbing and the burger, and looking adoringly at her daddy. Then the camera decided to eat all the pictures. Crap.
So now, all I have to share is her new love: pulling up. It has to be low, so she started with the Boppy chair. That is ok, but she is quickly bored. Then she started using the dog's toy basket, a big no-no. Because she discovers all the cool dog toys in there and starts to eat stuff covered in unknown slime. Next she moved on to the plant stands in the living room that act as end tables.
But they aren't really sturdy, and we have to keep saying, "No...dangerous!" and moving her back to the center of the room. I think they might need to go in the barn for the next 6 months or so.
Finally, she found something she can pull up on!
Look at that cute rump.
She got frustrated and let out this long, high-pitched, squeaky yell that sounds like a baby velociraptor.
She's funny. I think she might be part dog too.
1. She prefers dog toys to baby toys. No slobby tennis ball is safe.
2. She kisses like a dog. She licks instead of puckering.
3. She walks on all fours.
4. She pants. No really, when she is playing or wants something to eat she sticks out her tongue and goes, "ha,ha,ha,ha,ha,ah."
5. I saw her go for the dog food bowl yesterday when she was playing in the kitchen.
6. She drools worse than any St. Bernard or Bulldog I've ever seen in the movies.
Since she is exhibiting so many doggy characteristics, I think I will continue to support her efforts to walk on two legs.
Friday, March 27, 2009
McCareers
I'm slightly irritated and even more slightly amused by the new McDonalds commercials on the radio. Have you heard them? They tell you to get a McGriddles (um....one isn't plural McDonalds...you need to call it a McGriddle), try to convince you an 1100 calorie salad is healthy, or load us up with "I'm lovin' it!" - seriously? It's been like 5 years and you are still using that ghetto slang slogan. I really want to meet (and possibly beat) the illiterate "homey" that came up with that ad campaign. Funnier still, I bet it was a 45 year old white guy from
Fargo, North Dakota trying to be "urban." But I digress...
The ad goes on to conclude with "McDonalds. It's more than a job. It's a career." Here is where I start to foam at the mouth. Yes, McDonalds is a career now. Since most of the middle class, non-degreed jobs have been shipped to China, India, and South and Middle America over the last 5 years, McDonalds in now a career. You too can support your family on just $6.25 an hour since you got laid off from your $45K a year job. And don't worry about how it will effect your self-esteem. I'm sure your therapist will take your McInsurance. Oh wait, they only hire part-time so you don't qualify for fancy perks like medical insurance.
Off my soap box, I did actually research this using the McDonalds website and had a few laughs. I found their merchandise section (which I didn't know existed) to be quite hilarious.
If you do get a McCareer you can use their BigMac business card holder.
Or you can put your important McDocuments together with these snazzy paper clips.
Or you can turn all your new McDonalds "dough" into cookies and keep them in this creepy and slightly off-putting cookie jar. It certainly looks diet friendly. Bob and Gillian would approve.
And as you enter your golden years under the golden arches and start thinking of retirement you can scrapbook about your days cleaning out the grease trap and taking orders from someone your grandchild's age with this handy scrapbooking kit.
As you spend your final days in the nursing home, under and afghan gumming the mealy part out of french fries because you can't find your dentures, you can pass the time by assembling your Big Mac jigsaw puzzle. They say it keeps your mind sharp. And you don't want to lose all those brain synapses you built spending years flipping burgers and having the computer figure change for you.
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
Defying Gravity
Me: I'm channeling Idina Menzel for this post.
My alter ego: What in the world are you talking about?
Me: You know...from "Wicked".
Alter Ego: No, I don't know. Where?
Me: Not where. It's a what. "Wicked" the Broadway musical based on the book that is the prequel to "The Wizard of Oz" and explains how the Wicked Witch came to be. In its hayday it starred Kristen Chenoweth and Idina Menzel as Glinda the Good Witch and Elphaba the Wicked Witch of the West. One of the key songs in the musical was "Defying Gravity." You know witches and flying and all?
Alter Ego: Whatever. Dancing with the Stars is on.
I really do read too much, listen to too much music, and know too much pop culture and trivia. I think it is rotting my brain. The point being, Bean decided to try to defy gravity today and was not successful.
She is so wiggly and always on the go. Many times when I try to change her diaper, she flops and flips over and tries to get away. She's very spry. This morning, while getting her ready, she completed her fourth flop and was quite frustrated with me putting her back on her back. For her final attempt, she decided to do a "Flip 'N Lurch" combo. Only the most skilled babies can accomplish it -- sort of like a triple axle in figure skating. In half a second, she flipped onto her stomach and lurched forward...right off the end of the changing table. I even had my hand on her as she dove off. It was that fast.
I get an instant adrenaline dump as I extricate my 7 month old from the Pampers box. See, at the end of the changing table is where I have been storing and open Pamper's box to throw in clothes that no longer fit (on top on another full box). It is convenient, or more so, I'm lazy. It sure did come in handy that her fall was about 2 feet shorter and cushioned by small onesies, short pants, and jammies that don't work.
Her fat little legs kicking out of the top of the box would have been funny, if not for the danger. I pulled her out by her ankles while she cried and clutched a little pink and white gingham skirt from the box. I uprighted her and started touching her to see if she had any marks that would warrant the sitter calling CPS on me. Within 5 seconds, no exaggerating, she realized she was right-side-up, stuffed the little skirt into her mouth (her "treasure" from the ordeal), kicked me in the gut and let out a happy little grunt.
Little toot. She has no fear. For the next 17 years and 5 months I have nothing but fear. I have a feeling she isn't going to let me go easy.
My alter ego: What in the world are you talking about?
Me: You know...from "Wicked".
Alter Ego: No, I don't know. Where?
Me: Not where. It's a what. "Wicked" the Broadway musical based on the book that is the prequel to "The Wizard of Oz" and explains how the Wicked Witch came to be. In its hayday it starred Kristen Chenoweth and Idina Menzel as Glinda the Good Witch and Elphaba the Wicked Witch of the West. One of the key songs in the musical was "Defying Gravity." You know witches and flying and all?
Alter Ego: Whatever. Dancing with the Stars is on.
I really do read too much, listen to too much music, and know too much pop culture and trivia. I think it is rotting my brain. The point being, Bean decided to try to defy gravity today and was not successful.
She is so wiggly and always on the go. Many times when I try to change her diaper, she flops and flips over and tries to get away. She's very spry. This morning, while getting her ready, she completed her fourth flop and was quite frustrated with me putting her back on her back. For her final attempt, she decided to do a "Flip 'N Lurch" combo. Only the most skilled babies can accomplish it -- sort of like a triple axle in figure skating. In half a second, she flipped onto her stomach and lurched forward...right off the end of the changing table. I even had my hand on her as she dove off. It was that fast.
I get an instant adrenaline dump as I extricate my 7 month old from the Pampers box. See, at the end of the changing table is where I have been storing and open Pamper's box to throw in clothes that no longer fit (on top on another full box). It is convenient, or more so, I'm lazy. It sure did come in handy that her fall was about 2 feet shorter and cushioned by small onesies, short pants, and jammies that don't work.
Her fat little legs kicking out of the top of the box would have been funny, if not for the danger. I pulled her out by her ankles while she cried and clutched a little pink and white gingham skirt from the box. I uprighted her and started touching her to see if she had any marks that would warrant the sitter calling CPS on me. Within 5 seconds, no exaggerating, she realized she was right-side-up, stuffed the little skirt into her mouth (her "treasure" from the ordeal), kicked me in the gut and let out a happy little grunt.
Little toot. She has no fear. For the next 17 years and 5 months I have nothing but fear. I have a feeling she isn't going to let me go easy.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Bean Bridge
Yeah, the Bean is crawling, but crawling is hard. You have to focus on where you are going, not running into things, not getting intercepted by Diesel, coordinating the arms AND legs. It isn't nearly as easy as everyone makes it out. Frequently, Bean will move her legs forward, but forget to move her arms. Here is the result:
We call it a Baby Bridge. Her feet will keep moving until the weight of her butt causes her to capsize. Then she starts all over again.
Diesel too is having difficulty adapting to being pursued by a a Creeper. Earlier, while Bean was down for her morning nap, I saw Diesel like this on the couch:
I hollered up to Brad, "Did you put the pillow on Diesel?" He snickered, "No," and came down to look. We figure the poor old dog is just putting on some extra padding to evade the baby pokes. But wouldn't you cover yourself too if you had this coming after you ALL DAY?
Menacing, eh?
We call it a Baby Bridge. Her feet will keep moving until the weight of her butt causes her to capsize. Then she starts all over again.
Diesel too is having difficulty adapting to being pursued by a a Creeper. Earlier, while Bean was down for her morning nap, I saw Diesel like this on the couch:
I hollered up to Brad, "Did you put the pillow on Diesel?" He snickered, "No," and came down to look. We figure the poor old dog is just putting on some extra padding to evade the baby pokes. But wouldn't you cover yourself too if you had this coming after you ALL DAY?
Menacing, eh?
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Peep Wars!!!!!
Since it is officially the first day of Spring, I would like to ensure you know about Peep Wars.
I knew that if you put marshmallows in the microwave they expand. It is fun to watch when making "Urban S'mores" (using a Kenmore 1000 watt instead of a campfire). So, it only makes sense that if you put a marshmallow Peep into the microwave, they too will expand. Fun. Now, I've since learned that people have taken this to a whole new level - Peep Wars.
You take two marshmallow Peeps, insert a toothpick into each like a sword (I thought those little swizzle swords from cocktails woudl be super cool!) and see which one stabs first. You can also go until the toothpick sword causes a "blow out". So much fun!
Here is an example. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I18FIrE5xfk
In my research for this blog, I found out many things. Some of which will need to be covered in another post. But for starters:
1. YouTube is still awesome. You can spend hours looking at Peep Wars footage and never have to scrub burned marhsmallow out of your microwave.
2. There are lots of things you can put in the microwave that are cool like:
I knew that if you put marshmallows in the microwave they expand. It is fun to watch when making "Urban S'mores" (using a Kenmore 1000 watt instead of a campfire). So, it only makes sense that if you put a marshmallow Peep into the microwave, they too will expand. Fun. Now, I've since learned that people have taken this to a whole new level - Peep Wars.
You take two marshmallow Peeps, insert a toothpick into each like a sword (I thought those little swizzle swords from cocktails woudl be super cool!) and see which one stabs first. You can also go until the toothpick sword causes a "blow out". So much fun!
Here is an example. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I18FIrE5xfk
In my research for this blog, I found out many things. Some of which will need to be covered in another post. But for starters:
1. YouTube is still awesome. You can spend hours looking at Peep Wars footage and never have to scrub burned marhsmallow out of your microwave.
2. There are lots of things you can put in the microwave that are cool like:
- Grapes to make cool electrical arc / fire. I'm thinking, "Dude...grapes make fire?"
- A bar of soap. It foams up like that bondo stuff in a can. So nifty.
- Individual potato chip bags; chips & crumbs removed. In 8 second it shrinks them into tiny bags.
3. Peeps are an art form. People get crazy about these little guys. Love them or hate them, there isn't alot of middle ground. I think they are cute, but I don't eat them.
So please, get your Peeps and get fighting. It's Peep War season!
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
There is way too much estrogen in this post
I think you can categorize this blog in the TMI (Too Much Information) section.
I'm excited to announce I am soon to be off the mini-pill. Yea! "Maxi-pill" here I come. When breastfeeding you have to take a progesterone-only birth control called a "mini-pill." From my previous posts, you will know I like MAXI protection from more babies. Not to mention you have to take a mini-pill within a 2 hour window every day. I can see myself next week stopping a late evening parent conference on open house so I can take my little Camilla pilla saying, "Sorry, hold onto that thought about Carmen's trouble with deductive reasoning. I don't want any fetuses inside me." So I called the doc today and they are putting me back on my old birth control from before Claire. I still had some in the cabinet, so I checked them out. No dice. They expired in Aug 08.
Now there are many expired medications I will throw caution to the wind and still take. Tylenol from '06 - I'm game. Mylanta from '08 - sign me up. A nice leftover codeine from '07 when I have a wicked cold and the doc can't fit me in for a few days - down the hatch. But birth control? I don't think so. Bad narcotics give you a hangover. Bad birth control gives you18 years of hangover. I'll splurge the extra $10 at the Target pharmacy for a fresh pack in a glistening foil pouch stamped with something past May 2010, thank you.
While digging through the cabinet, and going through some hand-me-down clothes, Claire found something to play with.
She really likes the squishy, crunchy, light-weight package. Plus, from watching TV, she thinks if you use this brand you get to swim, ride horses, and do yoga. She really wants to do yoga. I like that they absorb drool while she plays. I know, teaching her to play with plastic is bad. Spank me - I was never more than 12 inches away from her. And Brad will be quick to point out that, like the car keys, now she thinks they are hers and "we'll never find them again." You always want your pads close by. But won't it be fun to harass her with this picture when her boyfriend comes over when she is 17....oh wait, that's right...She isn't dating until she is 30.
I'm excited to announce I am soon to be off the mini-pill. Yea! "Maxi-pill" here I come. When breastfeeding you have to take a progesterone-only birth control called a "mini-pill." From my previous posts, you will know I like MAXI protection from more babies. Not to mention you have to take a mini-pill within a 2 hour window every day. I can see myself next week stopping a late evening parent conference on open house so I can take my little Camilla pilla saying, "Sorry, hold onto that thought about Carmen's trouble with deductive reasoning. I don't want any fetuses inside me." So I called the doc today and they are putting me back on my old birth control from before Claire. I still had some in the cabinet, so I checked them out. No dice. They expired in Aug 08.
Now there are many expired medications I will throw caution to the wind and still take. Tylenol from '06 - I'm game. Mylanta from '08 - sign me up. A nice leftover codeine from '07 when I have a wicked cold and the doc can't fit me in for a few days - down the hatch. But birth control? I don't think so. Bad narcotics give you a hangover. Bad birth control gives you18 years of hangover. I'll splurge the extra $10 at the Target pharmacy for a fresh pack in a glistening foil pouch stamped with something past May 2010, thank you.
While digging through the cabinet, and going through some hand-me-down clothes, Claire found something to play with.
She really likes the squishy, crunchy, light-weight package. Plus, from watching TV, she thinks if you use this brand you get to swim, ride horses, and do yoga. She really wants to do yoga. I like that they absorb drool while she plays. I know, teaching her to play with plastic is bad. Spank me - I was never more than 12 inches away from her. And Brad will be quick to point out that, like the car keys, now she thinks they are hers and "we'll never find them again." You always want your pads close by. But won't it be fun to harass her with this picture when her boyfriend comes over when she is 17....oh wait, that's right...She isn't dating until she is 30.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Happy St. Patty's Day
Happy St. Patty's Day from me, Bean, a thoroughly irritated Diesel, and Brad too I guess since I stole his Old Navy t-shirt.
Bean looks so cute in green. But be thankful I'm not sharing the picture of the green she made this morning in honor of the holiday. Bleck! And look at her sitting up so nicely. Of course, I snapped this seconds before she she toppled over like a top heavy weeble. She can sit on her own as long as she thinks that you are holding her up. The instant she realizes you aren't doing the work for her - plop!
Bean looks so cute in green. But be thankful I'm not sharing the picture of the green she made this morning in honor of the holiday. Bleck! And look at her sitting up so nicely. Of course, I snapped this seconds before she she toppled over like a top heavy weeble. She can sit on her own as long as she thinks that you are holding her up. The instant she realizes you aren't doing the work for her - plop!
Monday, March 16, 2009
I dub the Sir Claire
Long day here at the house, and it is only 1pm. Ahhh...finally nap time.
Bean and I ventured out to get the oil changed on my car and an inspection. Have you ever noticed if it takes them like 2 hours to do something that should take like 45 minutes? I was all ready to threaten to let the baby scream in their bay if they didn't put a move on, but I tried the "flies with honey" version first. The guy said it would take about 35 - 45 minutes. I very happily said, "Good. This little lady doesn't sit for long well." We played in the lobby an soon my car some swooping up to the front. The tech comes in, "How fast was that?" he asks. I look at my watch - 16 minutes! I shower him with redneck compliments like telling him he could work for Junior's pit crew.
After a trip the Target and the library she was pretty much toast, but she hadn't crawled in hours, so I had to let her boogie on the carpet while I put away groceries and made my lunch. Ok, so I wasn't exactly Mom-of-the-Year quality watching her, but the dog was in there with her! When I checked on her after about 2 minutes, this is what I found...
She had crawled into the entry way (this is Columbus-style exploration in Baby World) and snatched a wrapping paper tube I was saving to make a jousting lance (I'm a teacher - I do weird crap like that). She was crawling back into the living room with it under her arm. Them's some spiffy moves for someone who can't figure out how to get a blanket off her face.
Bean and I ventured out to get the oil changed on my car and an inspection. Have you ever noticed if it takes them like 2 hours to do something that should take like 45 minutes? I was all ready to threaten to let the baby scream in their bay if they didn't put a move on, but I tried the "flies with honey" version first. The guy said it would take about 35 - 45 minutes. I very happily said, "Good. This little lady doesn't sit for long well." We played in the lobby an soon my car some swooping up to the front. The tech comes in, "How fast was that?" he asks. I look at my watch - 16 minutes! I shower him with redneck compliments like telling him he could work for Junior's pit crew.
After a trip the Target and the library she was pretty much toast, but she hadn't crawled in hours, so I had to let her boogie on the carpet while I put away groceries and made my lunch. Ok, so I wasn't exactly Mom-of-the-Year quality watching her, but the dog was in there with her! When I checked on her after about 2 minutes, this is what I found...
She had crawled into the entry way (this is Columbus-style exploration in Baby World) and snatched a wrapping paper tube I was saving to make a jousting lance (I'm a teacher - I do weird crap like that). She was crawling back into the living room with it under her arm. Them's some spiffy moves for someone who can't figure out how to get a blanket off her face.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
Ever realize there are things in your house that are abnormal, but you are so used to them you don't notice anymore?
Notice anything wrong with this picture?
I think I forgot to take down a minor Christmas decoration. I don't think they call you senile if you take the holiday decorations down by St. Patrick's Day right?
Notice anything wrong with this picture?
I think I forgot to take down a minor Christmas decoration. I don't think they call you senile if you take the holiday decorations down by St. Patrick's Day right?
Floor Time
We had some floor time today since Bean wouldn't take a nap. I couldn't resist snapping a few shots.
First, she tried to eat the lens...
Then the flash made her make funny faces...
The she made funny faces while she tried to eat my finger
Then she became obsessed with a washcloth...
Finally, a picture of my Bean looking normal...
First, she tried to eat the lens...
Then the flash made her make funny faces...
The she made funny faces while she tried to eat my finger
Then she became obsessed with a washcloth...
Finally, a picture of my Bean looking normal...
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Sperm Globe
I saw this hilarious item on the back page of an educational catalog I receive at school.
It is labeled as a "Reproductive Snow Globe" or "Sperm Snow Globe." The description says, "Shake it! You know you want to. This hands on toy perfectly explains the reproductive process."
Oh yeah, my boyfriend doesn't need a condom. I won't get pregnant. We just won't "shake" after we do it.
Come to think about it....maybe that is why Baptists don't dance.
It is labeled as a "Reproductive Snow Globe" or "Sperm Snow Globe." The description says, "Shake it! You know you want to. This hands on toy perfectly explains the reproductive process."
Oh yeah, my boyfriend doesn't need a condom. I won't get pregnant. We just won't "shake" after we do it.
Come to think about it....maybe that is why Baptists don't dance.
Where is my quesadilla?
I can't stop thinking about you Taco Bueno quesadilla.
Last week, you appeared in my Taco Bueno bag as if we were brought together by fate. I didn't order you. No, I thought the beef nacho salad and I were meant to be, but when I opened my bag, there you were. In your shiny yellow paper, you beaconed me to eat you, but alas, I had already eatten my fill of meat and cheese.
I remember taking you down to the 5th grade teachers and offering you to them. They too had already eatten too much. I peaked between your tortillas to see what you were -- after all we had already spent so much time together and I knew so little about you. Filled with delicious chicken and cheese, I couldn't let you go to waste. I knew you needed to go into the fridge for dinner.
So I carried you around -- proudly. Passing students called out to us, "Hey! You got Taco Bueno!" I announced that you were indeed a Taco Bueno quesadilla; a free one to be exact, and though I couldn't eat you today I would take you home for supper or maybe a late night snack.But that is the last I remember of you. I don't recall putting you in a fridge at the school or (gasp) tossing you in the trash. Maybe I got side tracked by an interesting conversation and left you on a student's desk. Or maybe I unintentionally set you asside as I grabbed other non-lunch items.
Whatever happened to you that day, know that I miss you and think of you often. I guess we weren't meant to be.
Last week, you appeared in my Taco Bueno bag as if we were brought together by fate. I didn't order you. No, I thought the beef nacho salad and I were meant to be, but when I opened my bag, there you were. In your shiny yellow paper, you beaconed me to eat you, but alas, I had already eatten my fill of meat and cheese.
I remember taking you down to the 5th grade teachers and offering you to them. They too had already eatten too much. I peaked between your tortillas to see what you were -- after all we had already spent so much time together and I knew so little about you. Filled with delicious chicken and cheese, I couldn't let you go to waste. I knew you needed to go into the fridge for dinner.
So I carried you around -- proudly. Passing students called out to us, "Hey! You got Taco Bueno!" I announced that you were indeed a Taco Bueno quesadilla; a free one to be exact, and though I couldn't eat you today I would take you home for supper or maybe a late night snack.But that is the last I remember of you. I don't recall putting you in a fridge at the school or (gasp) tossing you in the trash. Maybe I got side tracked by an interesting conversation and left you on a student's desk. Or maybe I unintentionally set you asside as I grabbed other non-lunch items.
Whatever happened to you that day, know that I miss you and think of you often. I guess we weren't meant to be.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)