tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32859354275671550972024-02-07T00:28:50.626-08:00The Yippie ChroniclesYuppie? Hippie? Yippie.nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.comBlogger84125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-28639531114378823272011-01-11T20:32:00.000-08:002011-01-11T20:32:04.137-08:00Working 9 to 5...and then 5 to 9I am a full-time mom. With a part-time job.
I won't even try to quantify the hours I work as a mom. I take my job very seriously. I work at my job as a mom the same way I would any other job. I'm not going to get into it now, but trust me.
Right now, I get the hours between 7:30pm and 4:30am off to do with as I please. And by as I please, I mean sometimes work, sometimes clean up, nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-12912229532923622432011-01-09T20:47:00.000-08:002011-01-09T20:47:26.110-08:00If you are the kind of person who is repulsed by shameless bragging, turn away now. Guide your mouse up to that x in the top, right-hand corner of your browser and click. Or maybe meander your way on over to You Tube and watch a cat jump out of a paper bag. Or go watch snow fall. But do not stay here. Because this will not be the post for you.
I'll start with E, not because I love him more (nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-90722777179357725232010-12-26T20:35:00.000-08:002010-12-26T20:35:44.262-08:00Here Comes Santa ClauseWe talked about visiting Santa. I explained that Santa was a nice guy and that E didn't have to sit in his lap if he didn't want to. He could just stand next to him. He could just stand near him. All he needed to do was politely inform Santa that yes, he had indeed been a good* boy this year and he would like a bread machine for the kid kitchen and some other gifts. That's it and that's all.nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-54366722326747342002010-12-23T13:32:00.000-08:002010-12-23T13:32:04.004-08:00Holiday GreetingsWe celebrate Christmas, without a mention of religion or Jesus or church, but with lots of mention of gratitude and compassion and generosity. We have friends from all walks, so I say Happy Holidays to you all!
The Christmas buzz is getting louder and louder around here. E helped me wrap presents while BP took a nap. We finished up our shopping this morning and stuffed D's stocking full of nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-42815972053253388632010-12-15T19:54:00.000-08:002010-12-15T19:54:26.175-08:00Merry Christmas to you, and you......but not you.
Can anyone enlighten me as to why it's ok to send a big Fuck You to our Jewish, atheist, Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu and other non-Christian neighbors?
While I respect the Mile High Baptist Church for not being bigots and hypocrites, I am still in awe of this marquee. Is this really what Christmas is all about? Exclusion? Intolerance? Bigotry? And here I was, thinking the nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-25203189708912173092010-12-14T18:43:00.000-08:002010-12-14T18:43:45.068-08:00Honesty is not your policySince my first poll was such a huge success - deemed Best. Poll. Ever. by @Jac, April, 2010 - I decided to hold another solicitation for input. And while I didn't even try to pretend that my first poll was "hypothetical," I will make a half-ass attempt at trying to create the illusion that this poll is. Smoke. Mirrors. Convinced? Oh, good. I knew you would be.
Ready?
Here it goes.
nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-85485207530632208722010-12-13T20:30:00.000-08:002010-12-14T05:36:23.371-08:00Asterisk Alley (finally)I don't even know where to start. Should I talk about how my maternal love and devotion cured* E of SPD? Or that his dairy allergy** is finally gone? Did I already tell everyone that BP has (finally) started to walk***? Or that she is (finally) sleeping through the night****? Or about how I applied for a job I kind of wanted and then didn't get it, but then got a job that pays twice as much,nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-78519949039152847712010-11-25T20:34:00.000-08:002010-11-25T20:34:45.221-08:00Giving Thanks on ThanksgivingThere are so many things I am grateful for (I mean really, where would I start?!?) but for now, I'll tell you that I am grateful that this did not end up being our Christmas card.
Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday.nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-11842731358706580612010-10-21T18:46:00.000-07:002010-10-21T18:46:15.302-07:00A Rose By Any Other NameE has a handful of nicknames for BP:
gags
gooch
gagga gooch
chunk'o
monk'o
chunk'o munk'o
monks
(all derivations of chunky monkey)
lil princess (the way he says this one invokes Jerry Lewis..lil PRINcess!)
And while these names are so cute because the way they came about is so organic, I am worried about them sticking. I do NOT want tweener BP to be called chunk'o or monk'o or chunk'o nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-20489533051567266282010-10-15T11:07:00.000-07:002010-10-15T11:07:52.158-07:00Room service!Last month we headed out for an adventure. We went to Snowmass, which like all super rich Colorado ski towns, is absolutely gorgeous. The trees were at peak fall color and the hotel we stayed at was slopeside, so it was teeming with things to explore. I don't know what their landscaping budget is, but I can venture to guess that with the money they spend on annuals, you could feed a small nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-45869118669288590862010-10-11T08:32:00.000-07:002010-10-11T08:32:51.785-07:00Happy Birthday, baby B!When CFB* turned one, we took his picture immediately upon waking. It was hysterical. We've done it every year since.
Today was BP's turn. She is celebrating one year on this Earth today.
And although you can't see all of BP's beautiful face in this picture, it does capture her essence. Annoyed that the flash is violently exploding in her face, annoyed that she was woken up before she nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-18396395086800171272010-10-01T20:19:00.000-07:002010-10-01T20:19:36.510-07:00Karma's a bitch...Or maybe she's just really tired.Let's cut Karma some slack, alright folks?
I was racing to get somewhere early one Saturday morning and in order to get out of the house as quickly as possible before the Window of Opportunity slammed shut, I raced out without eating breakfast, taking my vitamins (I swear B complex is poor man's lithium), or without a sip of coffee. I know. Suicide.
As I was racing to my destination, I nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-61133239126356498322010-09-29T19:53:00.000-07:002010-09-29T19:53:47.956-07:00Kids say the funniest things..."Mom, why aren't we moving?"
"Oh, sweetheart...we're sitting in traffic."
"Can you back up?"
"I wish. But there's a huge truck behind me."
"And if you backed up into him it would break his truck?"
"Yup."
"And then he couldn't drive it anymore?"
"Yup."
"And then he'd probably say oh, shit."
Yup.nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-69204122195398449532010-09-02T19:16:00.000-07:002010-09-02T19:16:40.868-07:00Judge Not......lest ye be judged. I get that.
But my question is: When are you allowed to judge? When are you allowed to look at someone else and think, "Holy shit. That is not good."
I've said it before and I'll say it again...public parenting is a snapshot in time. It is just a moment, and most likely not a "typical" moment in your life (or the other family's life) and should not be used as a nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-24138389304931661882010-08-19T21:33:00.000-07:002010-08-19T21:33:06.872-07:00BP and CFBWhew. I'm back. Well, I'm not back. I was stolen and replaced with an exact replica. But this me is back.
So what happened while I was gone? Did they ever stop that fucking leak? No, not that leak, this leak.
Anyway, who cares about the environment. I know you are dying to hear about what's been going on with me. Well, let me tell ya. It's been a crazy month or so.
First of all,nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-75921374986307500162010-07-07T12:10:00.000-07:002010-07-07T12:10:55.818-07:00Pitty PartyI do not wear my exhaustion like a badge of glory. I wear it like a sack of potatoes. A heavy, heavy sack of potatoes.
E was a wretched sleeper, but he had a perfectly good excuse. B, on the other hand, gives the appearance of being a perfectly healthy "chunk'o munck'o," as E so roughly affectionately refers to her. Yet she doesn't sleep. My only consolation? That old ladies at the nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-19678463459898355462010-06-15T13:08:00.000-07:002010-06-15T13:08:02.540-07:00Goochie goochie gooI'm keeping a secret. And it is a whopper of a secret. The catch is, it's not my secret. It's someone else's secret and since my world's overlap, what with Facebook and this blog and email and the telephone etc., I'm afraid to say anything that could or could not get traced back to me. And since I am too tired to keep things straight in my head, I've sort of just stopped talking. Mum is the nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-21842890266298783162010-05-25T20:10:00.000-07:002010-05-25T20:10:40.527-07:00Yin and Bang
Oh, good. I think that'll work. I'm hoping that repeatedly looking at this sequence and cuteness that it oozes will keep me from throwing the gawddamn baby out the window.
I'm pretty sure it's teething, but since she has no tells, it's hard to know. And it's amazing what having a reason will do for my patience. If I can attribute aggravating behavior to something, then my tolerance is nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-69883191947186898542010-05-18T22:11:00.000-07:002010-05-18T22:11:23.709-07:00I should be in bed......but instead I'm blogging. Why? Because I made the mistake of looking at my Google Analytics and apparently, someone in Finland* wants to know about the minutiae of my life. And if there's one thing I hate, it is letting people down.
E is just coming out of a disregulation phase. We're starting to catch on to his cycling, and it seems more like a 3 month cycle, instead of the 6 month cyclenejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-30336067993742144782010-05-12T21:25:00.001-07:002010-05-12T21:26:54.377-07:00Stuff and Nonsense*I cut all my hair off. All of it. I got D's (reluctant) permission first, had dozens of internal arguments weighing the pros and cons of short hair versus long and then finally decided to chop it all off when I remembered that all the hormone-induced hair loss was about to grow back in the form of a baby fro. And if there's one thing that I don't want to rock, it is a baby fro. The snot wipednejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-59895019786725306632010-04-29T06:49:00.000-07:002010-04-29T11:45:54.539-07:00The ocean called and they're running out of shrimp"Oh yeah, really? Well, the Jerk Store called, and they're running out of you."
I'm like George, who doesn't have a comeback till it's too late. Here are a few examples of situations where I should have said something, but I didn't.
---------------------------------------------
"What do you mean you don't know how to make a bottle? You have two kids."
"Both my kids are breast-fed."
"So nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-71199959458851218902010-04-27T19:02:00.000-07:002010-04-27T19:02:27.497-07:00Birthday dressIt seems almost stupid to be proud of this, but I made my first dress. I've made E a few pants, but those don't count because they consist of two seams and a piece of elastic. However, since making the dress I've been inspired to up my game in the boy's pants department (that should never be taken out of context) and came up with a really cute pair or pants that I made out of a pair of nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-64741941260290688392010-04-25T19:57:00.000-07:002010-04-27T18:52:03.781-07:00Call of the WildI want to eat my baby. My friend, Bangs, has come close to taking a bite out of B, but I figured it's because she's biased, being her kindof aunt and all and because she hangs out with me and is as close to hispanic as you can get (my brother often calls her his little tortilla.) So I thought that wanting to eat babies was a spanish (and spanish wannabe) thing until Bangs's sister came out to nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-19603083251467253982010-04-21T21:04:00.000-07:002010-04-21T21:04:28.902-07:00What is this? Leave your boundaries at home day?We were at the post office yesterday and I couldn't believe our luck. We walked up to the counter. We never walk up to the counter. We usually stand in line for anywhere from 10 to 45 minutes, but not today! Today, we walked right up. I sat B up on the counter and handed over my parcel. The postal employee behind the counter proceeded to take B's shoe off and rub. her. foot. I shit you notnejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3285935427567155097.post-20966938117964610232010-04-19T13:41:00.000-07:002010-04-19T13:41:48.484-07:00Best Nursing Pads EVER.Bras. Tampons. Shoes.
That should take care of any of the guys who got past the title of today's post.
I have been struggling with nursing pads since B was born. I thought I could just reuse the ones that I'd purchased while nursing E, but they were a tiny bit funky and I don't know about you, but I don't want funk near my lady parts. So I bought a box of Lansinoh disposable nursing pads and nejhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16847088250687320006noreply@blogger.com1