Aldi, Wasn't He One Of Those Singing Chipmunks?

I am soooooo excited. An Aldi is moving into the neighborhood! Here in Texas, we don't have any Aldi's yet, so most people don't know about this fabulous off-price grocery chain.

Until recently, it has been uber-hip to overpay for groceries. We tote our Central Market reusable bags and brag about how fresh and wonderful the olive bar is. Whole Foods patrons will go on and on about their organic, sugar-free (taste-free) peanut butter. Tom Thumb lures you in with great customer service (they acutally carry your groceries out to your car! - how 1950's).

Aldi is the food store for today. And by "today" I mean food for people who have their budgets stretched to the max because of lay-offs or impending joblessness. They carry most of what a regular store carries, but with very few name brands. They have store label everything - plus produce and meat. And their store labeled products are double guaranteed. Meaning, if you don't like it, take the container back and you get you money back AND a different product to try. I'm not a brand whore, so it works for me.

Some other things about Aldi, you have to "rent" your grocery cart. Deposit a quarter and you can get a cart from the cart machine. When you return it, you get your quarter back. It keeps their costs low because they don't have to pay someone $8 an hour to fetch carts from the parking lot. Also, you have to take your own bags - or buy them. We should all be using reusable bags anyway (I do), but I know we all have a pile of like 60 plastic walmart bags tucked in a cabinet somewhere in the kitchen or closet.

So YEAH for Aldi! And double yeah, they are putting in a Dollar Tree next door too. Sweet!

Some Random Pictures of Beanie

Some random pictures I've been wanting to post.

Beanie's First Easter. Those are special "Noah's Ark" Animal Eggs. She enjoyed shoving them in her mouth.

She's learned to pull up in her crib. This is her screaming at Diesel (note: yes, immediately after this picture was taken her matress was lowered to a safe height that conversely kills my back.)

She's all smiles about her formula! And mom loves that she doesn't have to lock herself in the closet and pump at work anymore.

She will climb up on anything. She really liked it when I put the "go-kart" in the living room. You can practically see her laughing.

In her underwear watching NASCAR on a Saturday night. She gets that from her Grampa. (If you look closely, you'll notice it is even a shot of Grampa's driver's car - Junior in the Bud-mobile.)

French fries and bacon

Bean is a great eater so far. Her favorite baby foods are winter squash and a blend of whole wheat pasta and vegetables. How healthful is that?! She likes apples mixed in with her cereal, but alone they are too much! Peaches are tasty, but she prefers vegetables and grains over sweets. Her vices right now? Bacon and french fries. Turkey bacon is a favorite. Daddy likes to give her a little piece to suck on while he holds it. Real bacon doesn't work as well since it falls apart too easily. French fries are yummy too. Daddy bites the end off and she sucks all the soft middle out.

Here's Daddy feeding her a french fry.

And here is Beanie showing off how much potato mush she sucked out of a fry.

And here is Beanie making a funny face and spitting fry meal at Diesel.

Air Guitar is Never Cool

I shouldn't try to delude myself. Air guitar is never cool.

I was rocking out with Claire in the car listening to "Surrender" by Cheap Trick. I pretty much rock that song on Guitar Hero -- even on Medium. So while at the stop light I start playing the bass line, strumming and hitting the imaginary buttons. Then I stop. Wait. Can people in the cars beside me tell that I'm playing the electronic video game version? Or does it look like I'm really cool and actually play guitar?

I'm one smokin' hot momma, so I decide that it definitely looks like I'm playing real guitar, so I continue. Suddenly, I realize: I'm playing air guitar in a parked car. Whether it is PlayStation 3 or Gipson, it is still a very uncool air guitar. I stop.

I can hear Claire humming to the bass line, "Mommy's alright. She just seems a little weird."

About My Bathroom

Recently, I've added super-couponing skills by becoming a "sampler," requesting free samples offered by companies. Originally, I started so that I could get the high-value coupons that accompany most samples, but then I got addicted. Every week there is something other than bills in my mailbox! Surprise - a coconut macadamia nut granola bar. Surprise - a Kotex maxi-pad. Surprise - a tooth whitening strip. Surprise - a free trash bag. Fun stuff, I'm telling ya'.

Today I got the most odd sample I have yet to request. Cotonelle toilet paper. When I requested it I was curious what form the sample would come in. Just a few sheets? A single average roll? Nope. This, a single use mini-roll that won't even fit on the dispenser.

I honestly can't figure out what to do with it. Should I use it up in one sitting? Put it in the car for runny noses? Tuck it in the towel cabinet next to the toilet to avert a "running to the hall closet with pants around your ankles hoping you don't drip" crisis? I guess if this is one of the biggests questions in my life right now, I'm doing pretty good.

Since family is coming over for Easter, I decided to clean the bathroom. Just a general once-over: scrub the toilet, wipe the counter, take a rag over baseboards & tub caulk. As I start, I find the handheld blacklight in there and decide to investigate.

Asside: Why, you ask, do I have a handheld blacklight in my bathroom? I ask you, why YOU don't? Actually, we thought Claire had ringworm, and ringworm floresceses under blacklight, so I brought home my school blacklight (used for my CSI unit) to check out Claire without a $25 co-pay. She's worm free by the way.

I advise you, never, ever, look at your bathroom under the blacklight. Gross! Many body fluids floresce, and you have to really scrub - with bleach - to get it truly clean. It took alot longer than I would have liked and I'm sure Brad was wondering what the hell I was doing in the bathroom with the blacklight and a ratty old cleaning toothbrush while bleach fumes waft out into the hall.

Just another lively Friday night in my house.

Locked out of my own house by an 8 month old

Ok….

So Brad was sleeping in this morning, and I was with Claire getting her ready and trying to get out the door. I had baby food to put in the car, my lunch, laptop, and other assorted goodies that are too much to carry with a baby. I put Claire on her pallet, told Diesel to watch her, and took my stuff out to the garage. About 60 second later I hear Claire talking on the other side of the door. I figure she’s come into the dining room to look for me. I slowly open the door and feel her pushing against it. She has climbed up the door. I can’t just knock her down! So I wait and I feel her plop down. She is way over next to the door jam, so I can’t reach her – the door is only opening about 4-6 inches. He is happily gnawing on a wrapping paper tube lying against the door. If I just push, her little skin will roll under the door, so I’m stuck.

I look through the door and I’l yelling, “Diesel get your blallbee! (what we call his tennis ball)” She will crawl over hot coals to get his nasty tennis balls she isn’t allowed to have. He starts bouncing and barking – a Lassie he is not. I’m trying to coax Claire closer so I can drag her out of the way, but she is happy (for the first time ever!) with her cardboard tube. After about 5 minutes of this, I decide I’ll have to get my cell out of the car and call Brad to come downstairs. Finally! Keeping my phone in the car is a plus! I call the house….no answer. Call again…no answer. He is a light sleeper, so I know he can hear it, he just doesn’t want to answer it. Worst case, I’m thinking, I’ll stand on the hood of my car, it the ceiling of the garage with the old mop and yell for him. The bedroom is right above the garage.

But I remember, with all the stuff I took out to my car, I threw the keys in the front seat. I recently got a front door key after not having one for years. So I was able to raise the garage, go around front (with no shoes in the cold!) and go through the front door.

When I got in to the hallway, Claire and Deez were looking at me as if saying, “What did we do?”

Dumb Bunny....continued

Guess who was outside when I went to let Diesel out this evening! It is a little fuzzy because I shot it through the screen on the window.



Dumb Bunny!!!!!

Dumb Bunny & The Easter Baskets

As city dwellers living just minutes from the Miller Brewery (I can see the sign spinning from my living room window), I am amazed by the number of rabbits that live in our yard.

We have a barn/shed in the back of our tiny lot, and every spring dozens of rabbits live underneath, breed, and drive Diesel crazy. He chases them 'round and 'round the pool and watches them dart into the holes in the rotting fence or dives after them as the seek refuge under the barn. We hate those damn rabbits after it has rained and Diesel comes in with mud caked paws from bowing into the mud to peer at the sheltered bunnies. Otherwise, we really like the little furballs and Deez enjoys the chase. He's never caught one, we wouldn't let him, but I don't think he really want to catch them. Sometimes he'll slow down or freeze when he could snatch it up. I like to think of him as a benevolent bunny sadist.

The most recent rabbit addition is a gray cotton tail we call Dumb Bunny. You can tell Dumb Bunny has been around the block. He is scruffy, slow, and also a little...well...slow. He sits under the pool deck stairs directly infront of the glass patio door and when Diesel get out on the patio he sees Dumb Bunny and goes nuts. He squeals, barks, and throws all 60lbs of his boxer-self into the door. It creates alot of ruckus. Dumb Bunny knows Diesel is about to get let out to pee, but he just sits there. At first we though Dumb Bunny was petrified, but turns out he is just stupid. Brad and I will yell, bang the door, scream "Run Dumb Bunny!!!" and he just sits, so we have no choice but to release the hound. Deez tears off out the door after Dumb Bunny. Dumb Bunny beelines to the fence hole with the reaction time of a geriatric getting some oatmeal. Diesel slows a little to give Dumb Bunny the illusion of near demise. Dumb Bunny escapes again and Diesel makes two speedy circles around the pool to assert his dominance before stopping for a long pee.

This routine has happened several times a week for the past several months. Diesel and Dumb Bunny have their own cadence and routine. Recently, it appears the two have created something of a pact out of reverence for their relationship. After a long day in the house, Diesel really has to go. Brad let Diesel out last week, he looked and Dumb Bunny, who stayed put, and started peeing. It was as if they were having this silent conversation:

Diesel: I really gotta go today!
Bunny: Oh, no problem. Take your time. I'll wait.
Diesel: Thanks. It's been a long day. So how are the kids?
Bunny: Just fine. Trying to get away from the little ones right now. They wear me out.
Diesel: Tell me about it. The owners have a new baby.
Bunny: I sympathize.
Diesel: Ok, I'm finishing up here. You ready?
Bunny: Ready.

Zip!!! The both explode from their positions and commence their regular chase.

I was doing laundry yesterday and one of my old laundry baskets which is cracked, broken, and barely still a basket tears and falls from my hand, pinching as it falls to the ground and hits my toes. I let out an explicative and continue outside to put laundry on the line to dry. When I return back in, there are two fancy new black laundry baskets on the washer! Just what I asked the Easter Bunny for - new "Easter Baskets."

Upon asking Brad where they appeared from, he said he didn't know adding, "It must have been the Easter Bunny. "But Easter isn't for another week," I countered. "Well, maybe Dumb Bunny is filling in for the Easter Bunny this year. You know he's not that bright." So true.