NEWTON’S LAW

I have made a handful of references to the size of my son’s noggin. He gets it from his father’s side of the family as there have been multiple comments from my own family and friends about my own pin-headedness. Yes, at the time, they were referring to the size of my head and not what was in it.

It would seem that ZGirl’s own head is quite magnificent in its mass as well.

Both children demonstrated this weekend that their craniums have their own individual gravitational pull with dire consequences.

While out dining this weekend, the waitress had just delivered the table’s drink order. She turned away with the empty drink tray and smacked XBoy, who was returning from the salad bar, soundly on the cheek with the edge of the tray. Of course the waitress was very apologetic and concerned even though it was neither of their faults. XBoy held back tears but I could tell he was in a lot of pain. Now, a couple days later, while there is no bruise he claims the spot is still tender to the touch. I’m just thankful it wasn’t his eye, or his nose, or thank-the-lord, his teeth.

ZGirl is working on that whole hand/eye/mouth coordination business with little success. She reached for the plastic ring that rattles from my mother, snagged it, and then… I think it would be much easier to describe what happened by what was heard:

*rattle, rattle….rattlerattlerattle, rattle*

*rattle….THUNK!*

*SCRRRRREEEEEaammmmmMMMM!*

Hard, plastic rattle? Meet soft, delicate skin of baby’s forehead.

As a result? Her first boo-boo, a bruise the size of a pencil’s eraser.

It’s only the beginning. In the picture below, XBoy had TWO.

XBoy 8mos
XBoy 8mos
ZGirl’s bruise didn’t show in the photo, but I’m posting it any way because she’s just so damn cute.
ZGirl 4mos
ZGirl 4mos

SANCTITY? OH, I THOUGHT YOU SAID “SPANK ME”

When those  people preach about protecting the “sanctity” of marriage, these are just a few images that come to my mind of some unions that while they fit their  idea of sanctity, they can hardly be exemplified:

Anna Nicole and J. Howard
Anna Nicole and J. Howard
Of course she didn’t marry him for his money. It was because he was such a good kisser, having no teeth and all.
Kimberley and Hugh
Kimberley and Hugh
While these two actually separated in 1999, they are legally still married. Talk about an open marriage.
Lisa and Clark
Lisa and Clark
Sorry, no picture of Clark…since he was ONLY 15! Also? This picture makes her look much younger than her 37 years, doesn’t it?
Liz and Any Eligible Man
Liz and Any Eligible Man
Elizabeth believed so much in the sanctity of marriage that she did it 9 times. Twice to the same guy.
Mickey and Co.
It must be true: women find a sense of humor extremely attractive. That must mean that Mickey had his eight wives laughing all the way to the alter.
Arnolfini and Giovanna
Arnolfini and Giovanna

Shotgun wedding – old school. (Ok, technically, she wasn’t pregnant, but still it happens every day. It’s just that today’s portraits of skinny, creepy dudes and their 9 1/2 month pregnant soon-to-be wives are captured via polaraid cameras left scattered about on hay bales and the groom is wearing camo.

P.S. I don’t know ‘brentwillie’ but he had a nice collection of redneck wedding photos for your viewing pleasure.

SORRY ABOUT YOUR DICK

The other day after I exited a store, I was walking to my car. It was parked on the far side of a pick-up truck (grey silverado, 4 door, Knox county, Nebraska) that the customer preceding me climbed into and started.

As I got closer, the back-up lamps came on as he put his Redneck Mobile into reverse.

He turned to look behind him. I was now directly in his line of vision. He applied pressure to the gas peddle and his Silver-sackless Truck slowly started to move.

While he was looking right at me now glaring at him!

I continued to glare while mouthing, “I’m walking here!”

I didn’t falter or slow my steps.

We continued to stare down each other until I reached my car door and inserted the keys. He had now backed completely out his stall.

I sat down behind the wheel and shut my door. I heard a honk. I looked over and there was Dickless giving me the finger. Without hesitating I returned the favor and even added “Fuck you!” to the exchange.

What a chickenshit. This guy had to wait until he and his limp dick were safely instead his truck and moving before “engaging” me in some unjustified road rage? In a word, the guy was Douche-arrific.

For me, I was pretty proud of the fact that even with sunglasses on, I had given that guy a complete mind fuck as well as a mental ball flogging.

Do not doubt the power of My Glare!

Blog T-Shirt
Blog T-Shirt
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Designed by Moosie Merchandise

Geohde, maybe you can use this at your next Mother’s Group meeting.

NO WHERE BUTT NEBRASKA

From the MyWay news website (bold is my emphasis)

Suspect arrested for greasy imprints in Neb. town

 

 Email this Story

Nov 22, 12:15 AM (ET) 

OMAHA, Neb. (AP) – Police have arrested a man suspected of leaving greasy, graphic imprints on the windows of stores, churches and schools in a small Nebraska town. A 35-year-old man was caught in the act by police early Wednesday morning, Cherry County Attorney Eric Scott said Friday. The man hasn’t been charged yet, but authorities believe he is the vandal some townsfolk have dubbed the “Butt Bandit.”

Beginning in spring of 2007, a mystery vandal visited businesses at night, pressing his naked behind – sometimes his groin, sometimes both – on windows. The marks were made with lotion or petroleum jelly, and while police had earlier worried copycat criminals were getting involved, Scott said they now believe it’s “the act of a lone deviant.”

“This isn’t normal behavior for Valentine, Neb.,” Scott said. “It’s an embarrassment for the hardworking people who live here.”

The man was spotted by police about 3:30 a.m. Wednesday and arrested without incident, Scott said. The suspect appears to be the same man caught on a surveillance camera at the middle school last year, he said.

Valentine, a town of about 2,650 in remote north-central Nebraska, lies near the scenic Niobrara River. The city was named one of the top “wilderness” towns in the country last year by National Geographic Adventure magazine.

People from around the country send Valentine’s Day cards to the city’s post office so they can be mailed out with the word “Valentine” stamped on them.

The past two summers, the bandit struck business after business, window after window.

He stopped over the fall and winter.

During one particularly brazen session, virtually all the windows at a local hotel were imprinted.

I *heart* Nebraska.

HORMONAL IMBALANCE

After much complaining over my husband’s lack of initiative in doing simple house-hold chores, a fact displayed when I deliberately parked the vacuum cleaner in his path to his side of the bed in which he had the audacity to complain about it not being put away, and then it sat there for a whole week untouched, he actually made a “This might get me laid” attempt this weekend.

“Might” was not just an operative word, but a losing proposition, as you will see.

I’m in ZGirl’s room, nursing, therefore, occupied.

He pops his head around the corner of the doorway, “Do we have any more of the clorox refills for the toilet wand?”

“Yes. There’s a full box in the laundry room (where you left them a couple weeks ago after you went to the store to buy some. Where you left them instead of putting them away in the cabinet under the sink. Where you left them taking up valuable space on my counter top where I fold the laundry. That I wash!).”

He disappears.

He then reappears.

“Do you know which bathroom the wand is in?”

“There’s only two bathrooms that it could be in. You’ll have to look (which, my god, one bathroom you had to pass to stand in ZGirl’s doorway to ask me that. If it’s not in that bathroom, well then, it must be in the other bathroom, which is the one that desperately needs the cleaning!).”

I swear. Is testosterone an antibody for logical thinking?

DOUBLE DOSE OF THE MEME

iloveyourblog2

This meme was brought to you via Rebel at Diary of an Infertile Mad Woman. She actually tagged ZGirl so I created two sets of responses.

First, here’s the meme as it applies to me:

  1. Where is your cell phone? Purse
  2. Where is your significant other? Booth
  3. Your hair color? Orange
  4. Your mother? Disenchanted
  5. Your father? Stubborn
  6. Your favorite thing? Sleep
  7. Your dream last night? Forgettable
  8. Your goal? #6
  9. The room you’re in? Small
  10. Your hobby? Blog
  11. Your fear? Kidnappers
  12. Where do you want to be in six years? Alive
  13. Where were you last night? #6
  14. What you’re not? Enigmatic
  15. One of your wish-list items? #6
  16. Where you grew up? Farm
  17. The last thing you did? Type
  18. What are you wearing? Clothes
  19. Your TV? Flat
  20. Your pet? Dead
  21. Your computer? Dying
  22. Your mood? Moody
  23. Missing someone? Children
  24. Your car? Toyota
  25. Something you’re not wearing? Underwires
  26. Favorite store? Etsy
  27. Your summer? Gone
  28. Love someone? Unconditionally
  29. Your favorite color? Red
  30. When is the last time you laughed? 7:55am
  31. Last time you cried? 9:45pm

And now as it applies to ZGirl:

  1. Where is your cell phone? None
  2. Where is your significant other? School
  3. Your hair color? Blonde
  4. Your mother? Warm
  5. Your father? Adored
  6. Your favorite thing? Boobs
  7. Your dream last night? Boobs
  8. Your goal? Boobs
  9. The room you’re in? Yellow
  10. Your hobby? Smiling
  11. Your fear? Men
  12. Where do you want to be in six years? Kindergarten
  13. Where were you last night? Crib
  14. What you’re not? Rolling
  15. One of your wish-list items? Teeth
  16. Where you grew up? Uterus
  17. The last thing you did? Poop
  18. What are you wearing? Diaper
  19. Your TV? Ignored
  20. Your pet? Computerized
  21. Your computer? Future
  22. Your mood? Happy
  23. Missing someone? Mommy
  24. Your car? Electric
  25. Something you’re not wearing? Panties
  26. Favorite store? Mendards
  27. Your summer? Birthday
  28. Love someone? Unconditionally
  29. Your favorite color? Black
  30. When is the last time you laughed? 11:41am
  31. Last time you cried? 9:45pm

The rules to this meme appear to be simple: tag a blogger that you love via the above button. Said blogger then must answer these questions with ONE word each only. I can’t explain why 31 questions and not just 30, nor the number tagged, which is seven, and it’ll be the last seven commenters.

I’m just following the rules, people.

Beagle at Cat’s in the Cradle (pwp)

MsPrufrock at Barren Albion

Eva at Antropologa

Artblog at Healing Arts

Portlairge at Fertility Schmertility

Cat at Cat is Here

Catherine at Everything’s Under Control

See? If you want to be tagged, it pays to comment. However, if you don’t like meme? Well, then, you’re already screwed.

GOOPY

Have you seen Paltrow’s new website? goop.com? A word to the wise: don’t bother clicking on any of the icons. Explanation at the end.

GOOP. You know? Like the hand cleaner your art teacher kept in the classroom? Since Gwynie snagged goop.com, it makes me wonder if she actually made a ridiculous offer for the domain name and then the original goopers went and got goophandcleaner.com instead.

Last night I started to think about Gwyneth Paltrow and her movie stardom. Aaaaand then I was like what movie stardom? The only movie I could remember her in was The Royal Tenenbaums, which as a film, I really enjoyed. From there? Sure she recently was in Iron Man as the very dry, very uninspiring, almost-love-interest of Tony Stark. But didn’t she win an Oscar for something? Remember? It was the year she wore this pink dress that was three sizes too big for her? 1999, to be exact – almost 10 years ago!

toobigIf my mother had been on the red carpet, I’m sure she would have tootled right up to her and pinched up those spaghetti straps and secured them with a couple of the safety pins that she would have had conveniently pinned to the front of her shirt. What? Your Mom didn’t do that? Hell, my mom even keeps a kleenex tucked into the cuff of her shirt sleeve.

Maybe her fame is perpetuated solely on the fact she gave both of her children rather unusual names (Apple and Moses), which seems to be the the last pathetic attempt made by many once-popular-but-now-meh stars out there right now.

So what is this wonderful website about? Well…if you haven’t read any of the buzz and you only clicked on the site, you wouldn’t have a clue. For some reason, it’s tagged “Nourish the Inner Aspect”, which is so trite and obtuse it could mean she is either going to provide recipes or yoga instructions. Ha! The joke is on me since if you click on the newsletter sign-up icon, she’ll send you her recipes! or her personal travel notes! Oh, what shall I do if I don’t know what Ms. Paltrow is doing? (By the way, if you click on the “get the scoop”? It’s the same damn thing, a link to her newsletter sign up.) (and who wants to get a scoop of goop? yuck)

As for the quaint icons that might make you think that she can tell you what fabulous things to eat! or travel destinations that appear to be family friendly! or where to buy that pink frock, which actually may come in your size! They are all linked to one thing: a three paragraph blurb that ends with, “Don’t be lazy. Workout and stick with it. GOOP. Make it great.”

Somehow, she turned the name of a hand cleaner into an action statement which absolutely makes no sense. What does it mean?!

If I had to guess? Gwyneth’s Own Ostensive Perspective. Because somehow she makes us think that we care how UNfabulous her life really is.

GETTING MY MEME ON

Last night as I lay in bed, I was running through my head different ideas for a blog post. Should I finally update about XBoy?  Nah. Not in the mood to deal with that right now. How about more ZGirl?  Lord, no. You must be sick of hearing about my boobs. Oooh, here’s one: I mentioned wearing tights yesterday in a tweet and it garnered a couple of funny responses, I’ll talk about my fashionista tendencies! I’ll need pictures for proof!  Oh, wait. Need to scan said pictures, especially the one where I’m wearing torquoise cords and a ruffle blouse *rowrr*…I am the original Ugly Betty, but alas, no time.

Since I now feel compelled to post something, I give you memes! All hail the meme’s ability to send readers unto the next post in their feeds reader! Oh, c’mon. It’s Friday. Chill out and finish reading. You might learn something potentially interesting, or not, about me.

This was from Jess at Days Go By who tagged me with a picture meme.

Go to your sixth picture folder

Select the sixth picture

Tell the story behind the picture

And here’s what I found:

wedding

It’s a candid shot from one of my errant relatives of our wedding photography session in the church. I never thought the bridesmaids’ dresses were hideous before, but my god! Well, it was almost 12 years ago. Not sure what many of them are looking at.

(L-R) groomsman 1 is a professional pyrotechnic; groomsman 2 is divorced and has custody of his only child, a daughter; groomsman 3 (best man) is the father of Mr. DD’s godson; groomsman 4 is now a meth addict and recently was released from prison for offense #2 (a goddamn shame as he could have had it all – really).

(L-R) Bridesmaid 1 is Mr. DD’s niece from SC; bridesmaid 2 is my sister (matron of honor); bridesmaid 3 use to be my best friend; bridesmaid 4 was also a good friend. I haven’t talked to either in ages and ages. My niece is the flower girl and her dress was made with just a unitard and tulle skirt trimmed in satin. She just graduated high school and is living in Germany. The ring bearer is my nephew, who now attends college in Iowa.

Sometimes I think about digging out my wedding dress from the plastic bin I threw it in just to see if it still fits or not. I’m betting “not”. Yes, I did say plastic bin. Don’t care.

And this post, which started as a simple response to a tag, has somehow mushroomed into a big polyester-satin-ey mess. I’ll get to the other meme I was tagged for next week as a continuation of my avoidance of all that is crazy and serious and fucked up in my life.

Also, instead of saying, “whoever wants to do this…” for a tag, I’m actually going to call six of you out:

Helen from Everyday Stranger

Jess from Life As I Knew It

Karrie from Mom Voyage

Steph from Lawyer Mama

Dawn form Clumsy Cajun

Carole from (another) New Kid on the Block

You have all been selected based on how you appeared on my Contacts from Flickr. No, it’s not part of the meme, but I thought it was fitting.

NIPPLELICIOUS

Get this: I have a four month old baby girl at home AND a boy who is going to turn seven! Not only do those two thoughts make me say, “Holy shit!” aloud, they also make me say, “Damn, I’m getting old,” in my head.

You never have to wonder where the swearing comes from, do you?

I have got  to stop reading the week by week sites about “what you’re baby is doing!” because poor little ZGirl comes across as a vegetable. Albeit she’s a cute vegetable. At nineteen weeks she is quite content to lay on her back and still not even attempt to roll over. I have found her turned on her side a time or two, but nothing more. I can put her on her stomach and maybe, just maybe, she’ll roll over. That part is worth the waiting since she looks positively stunned  by the action itself and still throws out her arms as if to catch herself from falling.

Things have turned dire as to the breastfeeding/pumping business. While her demands increase, the supply decreases. We all know what happens when the supply and demand scales are tipped negatively. Actually, it wouldn’t seem so bad if she would just take a bottle, the fussy wench.

In a year, it will all be something to look back on and laugh (oh, how we shall heartily  laugh! I hope.). As soon as the bottle appears, she begins her wailing. Insert nipple. Wailing now escalates to screaming, but because milk is dripping into her mouth, the cry has been reduced to gargling. Cue choking. Add in more wailing and maybe some real tears. Calm baby. Look, she’s smiling again. Put nipple to mouth and now that she’s knows what’s coming, she purses her little lips tightly together as if to say, “uh-uh, no way”. Make googly eyes at her. She smiles and opens her mouth. Try to sneak in nipple. Begin the endless tongue thrusts to remove foreign object.

And for the finale? Fall asleep.

Every. Evening.

I am so going to use this against her as an adult whenever she complains about the boys who only have interest in boobs at which time I will tell her the story of how she herself use to be a Boob Girl. Boob, boob, boobies. Oh, yes, how we’ll laugh  it up then.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

P.S. Are you participating? C’mon. What better way to exchange addresses and stalk each other?

3rd Annual Holiday Card Exchange

Holiday Card Exchange
Holiday Card Exchange

You thought with everything going with mi familia I would forget about the card exchange? Not possible as this event is what takes my mind off of the gloom that somehow always heralds in November for me.

Here’s the dealio: we exchange names and addresses in an email and then we exchange Holiday cards. Simple, right? If you want to do an exchange on your blog, just snap up this post’s button and treat it like a tag.

The first year I did this, in 2006, I sent out 29 cards. Last year? I sent out 49. I really enjoy doing this and I hope that those of you who participated last year will do so again (if not, I still have your name and address, and unless you moved in the past 12 months, you’re getting a card whether you like it or not).

Won’t you join me for a little spreading of cheer? It’s much less mess then spreading manure. Trust me on that. So if you want to participate, shoot me an email or leave a comment.

REACHING OUT

waterToday started off not good, not bad, just neutral. While getting ready I didn’t hear any yelling from Mr. DD, no crying from XBoy. By that alone, the scales should have been tipped to “good”.

So when Mr. DD said he didn’t complete XBoy’s reading slip to indicate a completion of his homework, and I asked why, he snap at me, “Because I didn’t!”

Even better, when I responded, “Why are you mad at me?” he replied, “Why not?” Since then, he hasn’t answered the phone or returned my messages.

If ZGirl hadn’t already been in the carseat, I would have clubbed him to death with it. I keep a very short shitlist and why he wants to be at the top of it right now is beyond me. He’s been an absentee parent for months now only making his presence known when he’s pissed off. XBoy is emotionally stunted and I resentfully and silently blame his Dad.

You know what? I could go on and on, but the reason I started this post was to explain why the pwp posts. After the shenanigans I faced when my pregnancy with Wolf was leaked at my place of employment, I was determined to keep any future pregnancy, and the means it was achieved, under my hat for as long as I could. It was my  business.

Protecting that information wasn’t because I was ashamed or embarrassed by our treatments or my pregnancy nor did I feel any of that information could come back to haunt me later. But now? I am compelled to protect my family from judgement.

Blogging has a major advantage and that is you can reach so many people in similar situations who simply “get it”. It didn’t bother me to share some of my most personal experiences, whether it was about my vaginal ultrasounds, my breast enlargement, or even just a little of my sex life. It was through these topics that I found women – and some men – who have gone, or are going through, similar situations and can share their stories, advice or just simply an internet ((((hug))).

I am now very torn between protecting our family’s privacy while we struggle through a painful situation to being very open because letting my guard down means possibly tapping into a whole new niche of bloggers who “get it”. I’m also worried that after knowing me for so long, that there’s a strange sense of loyalty that keeps you from telling me how I’m fucking things up.

That’s what I thought about last night. What if in my bias I am subconsciously leaving out information that you would immediately call bullshit on? Maybe that’s why I shared the above exchange between Mr. DD and myself. On the surface, in my public posts, everything looks rosy around here, but I can feel something dark and cold running deep below and I am very, very scared that unless we can safely surface, we will be swallowed bit by bit, until there’s nothing of US left.

I have to find the median between protecting my family from those who may not intentionally harm us but cannot mind their Ps&Qs to that of reaching out and confidently exposing myself to as much information and resources that’s best for all of us in the long run. Blogging kept me sane when we were trying to add to our family. I am now hoping, and maybe unreasonably so, it can help keep our family whole.

A SNOW LEOPARD THAT MAY OR MAY NOT BE FROM THE BRONX

You be the judge. Either this carseat cozy, cover, bunting, etc., is very Rock-n-Roll or very Fran Drescher. It could easily go either way since on the first day I used it to take ZGirl to daycare, another Mom went ga-ga over it. Now while I should always take a compliment at face value, I question her taste since she named her daughter after the female NASCAR driver, Youknowwho.

1110-snuzzler1

1110-snuzzler-41

1110-snuzzler-5

A poll:

Carseat cover: R&R or The Nanny?
( polls)