A Report

 As promised, I am reporting back to regarding my progress.









(That was a long, silent pause.)



But really, I'm actually doing pretty well.  Today is day 3 of THE X, as I like to call it.  (I don't really like to call it that but I don't want to type P90X into my blog a million times and have a bunch of pervs coming to see my before and after pictures.)  (Oh yeah, there will be no before and after pictures.)  (Ok, maybe an after when I'm all skinny and glamorous.)  Anyway, Thursday is yoga day and if you've ever done THE X, you know that this yoga is fucking retarded.  (Dear everyone who is PC, sorry I said retarded but that is the only word I can think of to describe it accurately.)  It is 90 minutes.  Yeah 90.  That's true.  It is 90 fucking minutes long.  Which might not SOUND that long, but trust me, it is.  The first half is crazy strength building, burn your legs off type of shit.  And the second half is more relaxing, stretching yoga.  Did I mention it's fucking long?  And hard?  (That's what she said.)  Anyway, I haven't done it yet today but I am going to.  I just keep putting it off.  My legs are sore from the other days' workouts and they are definitely harder for me than they were a couple of years ago, but I can mostly keep up.  It will be awesome to see a difference in my endurance over the next couple months.

So that's what's going on.  Obviously I haven't lost any weight yet because it's only been 3 days.  (Son of a bitch!  It seems like I should have lost 10 pounds already.)  I don't think I will do a regular update of this sitch because you guys would probably stop reading if I did, but I will let you know how it's going from time to time.  Mostly because I'm a big fat narcissist and I like to pretend that everyone hangs on my every word and is checking their internets every 5 minutes to see if I've posted anything new.

How to Support an Infertile Friend

I was recently asked to do a guest post on My Thirty Spot, a site devoted to women in their thirties.  So what else could I write about but infertility?  Obvs!!  So here it is...

Christmas Hangover

Christmas has come and gone and puked all over me.  It was fun and blessed and all of that, but L had his first little cold and he is still snotting all over me.  I was pretty much drunk for a week and it was all on beer so I have gained 5 pounds, and on top of that I seem to have hit a new low with the depression sitch, so I am sleeping 10 hours a night and then taking 2 naps a day.

I realize all of this sucks balls.  I have come up with a plan to overcome it.  I made another appointment with my counselor for next week, scheduled a hair appointment for Thursday (because that makes everyone feel better) and figured out a workout schedule.  The lovely Miss Josey left a comment on one of my previous rants about how fat I am and can't make it to the gym asking if I had any workout videos at home.  As soon as I read that, I was like, "Uh DUH only about a million dollars worth of them!  Why didn't I think of that and get my ass moving??"  So thanks Jos!  You now have the responsibility of being my ongoing motivation.

L is 9 months old today.  Can you believe that shit?  Slow the fuck down little dude!  Mommy is busy enjoying you being little!  Anyway, yesterday when I realized that he will be a year old in 3 months, it made me remember that I have the P90X dvd's, which set you up on a plan for 90 days.  So I started today!  It is kindof a lot harder than I remember it, but then again I haven't been working out like I used to.  So my plan is to continue the workouts and just do my best.  The last time I did them I made it through 48 days before I missed one.  It was awesome and all, but this time I have a 9 month old crawling around me while I do it, so I'm not going to be too hard on myself if I miss some days here or there.  But anyhoo, I am going to work my ass off (hopefully literally) until L's first birthday.  By then, it will be nearing spring and hopefully I'll be in pretty decent shape by then and can start running outside to train for the half marathon I have committed myself to! 

Why am I telling you this?  Well because I tell you everything duh, but also so that I can report back to you regularly on how it's going and keep myself accountable for the commitments I am making.  Also so when it's Easter and the chocolate covered marshmallows are back (Russel Stover only) then I can be like, what bitches?  I do P90X so BACK OFF!  (Snort, snort, inhale marshmallowy goodness.)

As for the snotty baby, not much I can do there except dry heave as I wipe his nose with my bare hand. 

This Month's Parenting Fails

For an ICLW summary of what my blog is about, click HERE!

I try to be a good mom, I really do.  I think most of the time I am successful.  My kids are fed and bathed, they wear cute clothes, they learn stuff, they brush their teeth (OK well the kid with teeth does.)  Oh yeah, and I fucking LOVE THEIR GUTS!  But of course every parent fucks up a time or two and I'm here to tell you how I did so several times this month:

- Bugs turned 8 last week.  He wanted to have his birthday party at this place where they have wall to wall trampolines, trampoline dodge ball and jump off trampoline into big foam pits areas.  It sounded awesome and for a small fee, I didn't have to do shit except show up with a cake.  Score!  That is until we got there and there were a half a million teenagers jumping around like they were on crack and didn't give a shit that there were a bunch of little kids there too.  3 kids were injured (pretty badly) and I needed some wine after it was over.  I grossly underestimated the amount and level of possible injuries at this place.  Oh yeah and afterwards I left the ice cream cake out and it melted.

- I couldn't quite get it together for a family photo this year.  Hubs had a crazy schedule with the opening of another restaurant so we just couldn't make it happen.  Therefore, this year's Christmas card is a compilation of a bunch of photos I took all year.  The problem is, the only photos I took this year were with my iPhone.  That's right, new baby and all, I didn't break out my camera once this year.  Needless to say, the Christmas card is fugly.

- L still spits up on a regular basis.  Now that he eats baby food too it's super fun to get sweet potato barf on everything, including my carpet.  You see, he also crawls now, which means he cruises around, spits up, then plays in it.  Recently, if the flavor is right, he has started eating it off the floor.  Yes, he spits up, then lays there and eats it.  I mean, I keep an eye on my kid and all, but it only takes about 2.5 seconds of looking away for this to happen.

So there you go.  If you had any doubt about your skills as a parent, these horrible examples should help you feel better.  Oh and last but not least, I crossed slightly into the child abuse zone when I dressed my baby like this.  (I couldn't help it. It's fucking adorable.)

WTF Mom?  You're getting a lump of coal for this.

Merry Christmas everyone!  I have so much to be thankful for this year!  I wish you all BFP's, EWCM, and plenty of BD'ing. 

TVT

For an ICLW summary of my blog, click HERE!

Diving right in...

1 - Do you have period panties?  You know, the ones that aren't your fave-skis or maybe they are super comfy but ugly as hell so you wear them on your period because you don't care if they get ruined?  Or is this just something I do?  Well, either way, I was staring into my underwear drawer the other day and noticed that a pair of undies that I used to L-O-V-E was in the period panties section (yes there's a section, I'm OCD, so screw you for judging me.)  Anyway, these cute little guys are awesome, yet somehow have evolved over time into the pair that I don't care if they get ruined.  Is it weird that I got sad over them?  Maybe I should up my meds a little.

2 - I eat a lot of fruit.  Apples and bananas are a regular staple in my house because they are convenient, kid friendly and readily available.  I tend to take a banana in the car with me when I'm in a rush.  I'm a little ashamed to admit that I throw the banana peels (or apple cores) out the window.  Is this really littering?  I mean, it's super biodegradable and I NEVER see an old peel or core just chilling on my street like a McDonald's bag, so something tells me that it is ok to do this.  Maybe I'm giving some little animal a little breakfast treat?  See, I'm actually helping nature.  I do make sure no other cars are around when I do it though because I'm afraid someone will yell at me.

3 - Speaking of eating in the car... I regularly drop food items between my seat and the center console.  Also I have man hands so it is practically impossible for me to reach my meaty hand in the crevice to get them out.  What is the solution here?  How can I get sour patch watermelons, french fries, and pretzels out from the deep dark abyss?  I bet there's the equivalent of a Thanksgiving feast in there (except you know, the junk food version.)

4 - My weight loss situation is at a standstill.  Ok that's a lie, I've gained a couple pounds.  I'm still down overall but have about 14-15 pounds to lose to get to my goal weight.  It's been difficult to workout because it is fucking freezing here so I don't want to take L out in it.  Also don't want to take him to the gym daycare around kids with a snot river running down their faces.  Hopefully I can figure something out soon and get going on it again.  Also it would help if people would stop giving us gifts of caramel popcorn and cookies.  Also if Russel Stover marshmallow Santas could stop being so delicious, that would be nice.

ICLW

Well HELLO!!!  And welcome to my blog.  If you are of a delicate nature, you should most likely stop reading because I say the F word a lot.  Like a sort of ridiculous amount.  Seriously, click away if you cannot handle it.

Now that is out of the fucking way, hello again.  I'm BU (Bummed Uterus) and recently my uterus threw me a frickin' bone and I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy.  I pretty much brag about him on a regular basis, well, because he's fucking awesome.  I also have another not-so-little one who just turned 8 years old.  He is also fucking awesome and kindof a genius too.

Since my baby was born in March, we haven't decided if we will try for numero trois or not.  We'd love to have another (obviously) but are unwilling to go through fertility treatments again.  Also, I am old (33) and probably won't be risking anything else after I get WAY old (35.)  So pretty much once a month I post about how I wonder if I am pregnant this month because my period is an hour late.  Then 2 days later I post again about how, oh yeah, I'm infertile so I am, in fact, not pregnant.  It's a mind fuck people.  Welcome to it.

So anyhoo, nice to meet you and I look forward to reading some new blogs this month!  If you get a chance, check out the other ladies in my reader because they rock my fucking socks off every day!

The Great Milk Debate

I'm not here to tell you that you should only breastfeed ever and not to give your kid formula.  I realize for some people that formula is necessary or preferred and I am totally okay with that.  In fact, with Bugs, I exclusively breastfed for 4 months, then supplemented until 6 months and then he did formula only until he was a year old.  That's just what worked out for me at that time.  I was working full time, pumping is mind numbingly dull and that's how it happened.

This time around, however, I am able to stay home with my bebe and I plan on only breastfeeding until he is at least a year old.  For some reason, people keep trying to talk me into giving him formula.  Like I am making it too hard on myself to breastfeed exclusively.  It is hard, and there have been a few soirees I have had to miss out on because I didn't have time to prepare and have milk pumped.  I try to pump once a day so that I have a little stock on hand, but sometimes that shit just doesn't happen (mind numbingly dull.)

People, I am okay with this.  If I have to miss an event because my babes won't get fed breast milk that night, I am fucking fine with it.  This is my choice, my sacrifice and my gift to my baby.  I think I should be getting a fucking award for that rather than criticized about how I could make it easier on myself.  I would never take it upon myself to tell someone formula feeding that they should be breastfeeding because it is cheaper (or whatever the reason.)

And that is all.

I Is Smart!

I've been sitting at home for nearly 9 months now, wondering what the fuck I am going to do with my life.  I already have a bachelor's degree in business management and have been doing accounting since I was 15.  Well, I mother fucking hate accounting.  So this year I decided to go back to school and figure out something else that I love doing so that when my baby is old enough to go to school himself, I will have completed whatever degree I want to have and be ready to enter the workforce again.  The problem is, I took 1 class and procrastinated and hated it.  Well, actually, I loved the class (nutrition) and it gave me some ideas about what  might want to do eventually (registered dietitian or nutritionist.)  I have figured out though that school is just not for me right now.  It's difficult to study with a baby crawling around, and my husband works about a gazillion hours a week so I can pretty much never count on him to take care of things while I get my school work done.  So, I'm going to put off more schooling (for now) and figure out something else.

I've given it a ton of thought because I am just not a gal that can sit at home with the chitlins day and night and never want to get the eff out of my house and do my own thing.  So I thought about a part time job but again, can't count on hubby to be home at scheduled times (he owns restaurants which have extra crazy hours so shit comes up at all hours of day and night.)  Then, yesterday, I got an e-mail from an organization I learned about last year that I forgot all about!  I saw it on Dr. Phil and it is called CASA, which stands for Court Appointed Special Advocate for Children.  It is basically a volunteer person who reaches out to kids in foster care to make sure they are being taken care of and well, alive really, since the foster care system seems to suck at verifying these facts.  Then I started looking into the Make A Wish Foundation because I have ALWAYS wanted to volunteer for that too!  But like I said, I have literally had a job since I was 15 years old.  I went to college full time and had 3 jobs!  Since college I have worked full time and had children so I have never made time to volunteer for anything.

And now here I am, at home, begging for something to do and EUREKA!  I have time to volunteer!!  I am super excited and hopeful that these volunteer opportunities will pan out.  If they don't I'm sure I can find a million others I am interested in too!

In the meantime, I will continue to eat whipped cream off a spoon straight from the container.

Short Post Due to Crying Baby

My bestie just got a Mac so guess who she gave her old Photoshop to?  Yeah that's right, ME.  I was so excited until I downloaded it and figured out I don't know a flying fuck about Photoshop.  Also I still have a point and shoot camera from like 6 years ago.  And it's pink, which somehow makes it harder to take it seriously.  So, it looks like it's time for an upgrade.  I hope Santa gets the message.

I was watching an episode of Entourage this morning, which is weird because I've never watched that show ever in my life.  But anyway, what caught my attention was that it was Yom Kippur so they couldn't drive or use their cell phones.  I lost interest before I could figure out if this was because their wives were making them or if that was part of the holiday.  Either way, it made me realize I might know even less about Judaism than I do about Photoshop. 

L wants to eat regular food now.  He looks at everything I eat longingly and tries to get his mouth around it.  Today I let him chew on some apple slices because I figured it would be a good thing for him to munch on and plus it might feel good on his poor little gums.  Problem is that he refuses to hold the food himself.  Even with baby food he has zero interest in holding the spoon.  He is content just being fed and keeping his hands clean.  (By clean I mean full of saliva and carpet hair from chewing on them and then crawling.)  Anyway, if I try to get him to hold the food himself he has quite the meltdown and thinks I am attempting to starve him.  So if I want him to gnaw on the apple slice I have to sit there and hold it in his mouth. 

He has also recently started saying Mama, which is basically like a symphony to my ears.

Thought Vomit Thursday

What's that you say?  It's Wednesday?  Well that's the beauty of TVT... I make the rules.  Besides I have been thinking it is Thursday all day today.  This week just won't fucking end.

- I hate when people say, "I HATE DRAMA!"  Because most likely, the people who are always saying that are almost always the ones who fucking love the drama.  They create it.  They also seem to follow it up with such phrases as:
                   -  "Fuck my life."
                   -  "I can't deal with this anymore."
                   -  "Why does this stuff always happen to me?"
I'm not a lover of the drama, but occasionally it can be entertaining to me.  I do avoid crazy bitch friends, mean girls and douche bags though, so that significantly cuts down on the level of drama in my life. Of course any drama I do have is spilled out onto the virtual pages of this blog for your entertainment.

-  I hate when my Hubs is like "We really need to do...."  end this phrase with cook dinner, vacuum, etc.  Because clearly when he says WE he means ME.  The other day he was annoyed because he was trying to get L dressed and pulled out a couple of outfits that were too small.  I admit this is annoying and I do intend to get rid of clothing that doesn't fit anymore, but frankly, it's kind of a pain in the ass to do this every couple months.  So when he said "We really need to clean out L's old clothes."  I just rolled my eyes and ignored him.  He has now started dressing him in ugly outfits to prove his point.  The other day he put him in shorts.  It was 28 degrees outside.

-  I sometimes read People magazine online and I am surprised at how many stories there are about how Kate Middleton wore the same dress to 2 different functions.  I mean, honestly, how many fucking people are there in the world that don't wear the same outfit twice?  I sometimes wear the same outfit for a few days in a row.  (I stay home now so this is perfectly acceptable.  It also cuts down on laundry and my Hubs telling me that we need to do laundry.)

-  If I could design a diet that would make me super skinny and in optimal health but only if I ate the same 12 foods for the rest of my life, I would choose cheese, tortillas, sour patch watermelons, mashed potatoes, diet pepsi, spaghetti, tacos, bacon, french fries, hot tamales, pb&j, and apples.  I realize some of these foods involve other foods, but this is my fantasy so just go with it.

-

By Popular Demand

Ok, well 2 people counts as popular to me.

Nothing

I hate when you think of like 12 good things to write about over the weekend, but then when you sit in front of your computer, you can't remember any of them.

So, I'll just tell you that my baby is now crawling.  It's a wobbly, topple-y, adorable mess, but he can get around.  I'm sure in a few days he will be tumbling down the stairs or drinking poison from under the sink, but for today I can still take my eyes off of him for about 2 minutes and he only travels 3 or 4 feet.  Note to self: must child proof shit.

Next, I will tell you that I'd rather tumble down the stairs or drink poison myself than clean toilets.  I have 3 of them in my house and I dread it every time.  I don't remember this in my marriage vows:

Do you BU, take Hubs to be your lawful husband?  (And also to clean up his pee splashes, pubes and also the bodily fluids of any of his children?)

I do. 

(Wait, do I?)  Mother fucker.

I almost just posted a picture of my Christmas tree. 

The end.

Thought Vomit Thursday

Do you believe in ghosts?  I do because I've seen them.  This might be a controversial subject but I have to get it out there because it happened to me again last night.  I woke up, freezing, with the eeriest chills running down the right side of my head and shoulder and when I tried to pull the blankets up, something pulled them back.  I got scared and burrowed into my hubby for warmth and well, because I'm a pussy.

Recently my niece gave birth to a baby girl and decided to give her up for adoption to a gay couple in Minnesota.  I'm not sure exactly how she found them but when I look at their pictures with the baby, I feel such joy for them.  It's been difficult for her family to accept because it is my SIL's first grandchild, but my niece is about to go to medical school and knew that she couldn't provide the life that this couple could give her.  Also I know how it feels to want to be a parent so badly and not have the equipment to do so (in this case, there are 2 penises but no uterus.)  Plus I am all about the gays and am just happy for them.  Unfortunately, many people in the family are not quite as open-minded and it is difficult to have a civil conversation about it sometimes.  Anyhoo, I plan on sending this niece a message and letting her know how I feel on the subject so she knows she at least has me in her corner.

And on to a more fun topic... pooping.  Or, um, well, the lack of around here.  Is turkey like an intestinal jammer or what?  If I ever have issues in this department usually a cup of coffee will do the trick.  This week I am all hyped up and caffeine jittery from all the coffee and I'm still waddling around with full intestines.  I know this is too much info, but that's basically the gist of this blog, is it not?

I know people get excited about their Christmas decorations, but is it really necessary for all 217 of my FB friends to post a picture of their decorated Christmas tree?  Do you actually see a pic of someone's tree and think to yourself, "Ooooh, I've been dying to see what so-and-so's tree looks like this year!!"  And then giant size the picture and make it your background?  Yeah me neither.  Although, to be honest, I DO want E to post a picture of hers.  And all of her presents too.

Wow, this post is full of the afterlife, homosexuality, religion, poop, and grinch-ness.  What more could you ask for on a freezing Thursday afternoon?

Return

Holy geez dudes, I feel like I've been away forever!!  I'm glad to be back online and catching up with you guys.  Woo hoo!!

So here's some retro fucked up IF nonsense that has snuck up on me... My brother-in-law is a serial monogamist.  He has long term girlfriends that usually last a year or two, just long enough for us to think they are serious, and then they break up.  He's been dating current girlfriend for about 5 months now and from the first time I met her, I could tell they were more serious about each other than any other gf I've seen him with.  Turns out they were talking marriage clear back in month 2.  Fast forward to Thanksgiving weekend when they announce their accidental pregnancy.  She's 9 weeks and they are planning on getting married after the baby comes.  Honestly, I am really happy for him.  I'm glad he's found a woman he wants to be with, but I am more than a little shocked that it came this quickly and with this particular girl.  She has a 15 month old already so their kids will be 22 months apart.  They both have good careers and will be great parents, but something about the announcement still felt like a punch to the gut. 

It made me feel defective again.

I've been with my husband for nearly 12 years and every pregnancy we've accomplished has been work and 3 times, they have been utter heartache.  So even though this pregnancy will end in happiness, it still felt overwhelming and sad to me.  Just for me.  If that makes sense.

Anyway, on to happier things... L is so close to crawling!!  He scoots around in an army crawl already and is getting up on his knees and rocking back and forth.  He still hasn't cut a tooth but I can tell it's going to happen any day.  He chews on everything and gets super feisty as he shoves my finger in his mouth and chomps down on it.  He keeps getting random fevers and he is the cutest little drool monster ever.  Bugs is doing great and is starting a basketball league this week.  It's the first time we've tried basketball, so it should be fun!  We set up our Christmas decorations tonight (sans the tree... we are going to get a live one this year and want to wait another week or so.)  All in all, the holidays are starting out great for us.  I can already tell that I'm going to have to start eating more salads soon or plan on gaining back all the weight I lost.

Peace and ba-lessings!

I'm my own Pavlov's dog (or something)

Huh, I just noticed at the top of my screen that it says some parts of Blogger might not work on my browser and that I should upgrade.  I'm fairly certain that has been there every time I've logged in and I've just ignored it.  So apparently it's my own damn fault that I can't comment adequately on your blogs.  Son of a bitch.  I hate it when it's my fault. 

But anyway, I know you guys love hearing about my period so here you go.  I got my period AGAIN this month.  I can't believe how bad it sucks balls to be still breastfeeding all the fucking time and yet still getting a period every month.  Sorry L, Mommy can't feed you right now.  Mommy has to go change her lady products AGAIN.

Ok gross, sorry.  My point is that it is weird to be back in the space where I'm getting periods every month and wondering if I'm pregnant every month.  You think after all the SHIT I have been through with my body that I would not be worried for a second about being pregnant, but I'm right back in that 22-year-old mindset where I think Oh we haven't used any birth control this month, I am going to get pregnant!  WTF BU?  Don't you know by now that YOU ARE YOUR OWN BIRTH CONTROL???

Apparently I don't.  I still wonder every single month.  It's so weird.

Crazy Sauce

This week has been quite the roller coaster for me.  Remember how yesterday I said I was a grown up?  Well apparently that was fleeting or not taking my current mental state into account.  I don't know if the meds are leveling off or what but I should probably carry a cu cu clock (how the fuck do you spell coo coo clock?) around so when I get all nut jobby it can start chiming COO COO!!  COO COO!!  Or CU CU!! CU CU!! Whatevs.

Anyhoo, I'm crazy and unpredictable and probably crying a little too much.  If my period decides to start on time this month then I am right in line for PMS so hopefully that is it and I will return to normally scheduled programming soon.

So here's what has happened this week that has caused me to vary between fits of rage and tears...

- Most of the electrical shit in my car has decided to stop working.  My window doesn't roll down, my heater continues not to work correctly, and now my lighter, overhead lights and radio have stopped working.  WTF?

- I have a stye.  In my eye.  Like an inflamed engorged clogged oil gland on my lash line that is swollen and looks like I have some mutant disease.  People can't even look me in the eye right now because they are afraid my horrendous eye infection is going to leap out of my face and onto their own eyes.  Which is totally unpractical but I get it.  I don't like looking in my own eye right now.

- Bugs woke up with a stomach ache today and one thing I have learned over the years is when he says he is going to throw up, believe him.  Otherwise I end up with puke in my debilitated car.  Well apparently he  has caught on to this concept because when I came downstairs from getting ready he was on the couch eating a giant bag of sour patch kids.  When I told him he needed to go to school if he felt better, his stomach ache promptly returned.

Well I guess that's it really.  Maybe I should stop whining because it's really not that bad.  Or I can look into my back up plan that involves wine.

I'm Mature for My Age

Guess what dudes?  I am kind of becoming a grown up.  Shocking I know!  This weekend I was in a little funk because the hubster was working all hours of day and night.  He came home and I was annoyed with him and really mostly just tired and missing him.  But instead of getting all 12 year old on his ass and whining and bitching and guilt tripping him, I just stayed in my room and watched a gazillion episodes of Say Yes to the Dress.  Side note, OMG how can people spend 30 thousand dollars on a wedding gown???  Additional side note, I have started asking the hubs if we can renew our wedding vows because I want to buy a wedding gown.

Then yesterday he took like 3 naps because he was tired so again I was on my own.  But I stayed true to my mature self and just let him do his thing.  Then this morning he was all why do you hate me and why aren't we connecting?  And I was like dude, I think we need to go on a date and get in touch with each other again.  He agreed and we made date plans for tomorrow.

So here's a recap...
1- Hubs pissed me off.
2- I realized I was being pissy.
3- I kept to myself and got over it.
4- I proposed a solution.
5- I feel better.
6- I have a date tomorrow.
7- I am clearly awesome.
8- Anyone want to go to New York and try on wedding gowns with me?

Next, it's my birthday this weekend and I'm going to be the big 3-3.  That's just 2 years away from advanced maternal age.  So I'm doing what any old mom would do... treating myself to a spa day and a psychic reading of course. 

TVT

- I went to Cost.co on Monday and it was the first time I've been in forever and a day.  I spent over $350 if that tells you anything.  It was nice to fill my pantry again and even nicer that I could afford it due to the budget we made and are sticking to.  It sucked balls when midway through the trip L decided he'd had enough of being in the carseat in the basket and I had to carry his cute little ass for the last 40 minutes of the trip. 
 
- Speaking of said trip, I bought some generic fabric softeners from there and they are reeking up my entire house!  I mean I want shit to smell good and all but damn! I can't walk past my laundry room without thinking of a grandma with too much perfume that makes me wanna vomit.
 
- I'm all for farting and everything.  I mean, everyone does it.  But I think there's a time and a place AND I also think just because you know someone well, does NOT mean you have to just rip ass in front of them.  Over the weekend, my 21-year-old nephew just kept farting and farting in front of anyone that was at the house.  The first time or two maybe I snickered a little like a 12 year old, but after 3 days I was like, "DUDE JUST GO TAKE A SHIT ALREADY!!"
 
- I can't believe I haven't told you dudes about how bendy and awesome I am in the car now.  I discovered that if I sit next to L and hang my left boob out, I can actually feed him while we are driving.  (Well I'M not driving, I'm in the backseat with him and my boob.)  Anyway, I discovered this on the many road trips we have taken over the past several weeks.  It's probably not anything to look at but it's impressive.  I lean right over, cuddle up to him a little, and Cirque du Breastfeeding begins.  He eats and then sleeps and we don't even have to stop and then hold our breaths hoping he'll stay asleep after it's over.

What My Vagina Has Been Up To

What a captivating post title!  I'm sure you have all been sitting around thinking, "I wonder how BU's vagina is doing?"  Well I'm here to tell you that she is super duper confused.  I've never actually named my vagina, but for this post, we'll call her Rosie.  I'm not sure why that name came to me but I'm equating it to Rosie on the Jetson's.  I may or may not have some psychological issues.  But anyway, my robot vagina was scooting around the house vacuuming and dusting and fixing dinner when she and the bum uterus, Cindy Brady, decided to wreak some havoc on me.  My period keeps coming and going at random intervals, followed by brief bouts of spotting, EWCM, yeast infections and the ever present forest of untamed pubes that are, to say the least, winning. I swear I could take a weed wacker to these bitches, give them a crew cut, and they would still be as back and unwanted as Miley and Billy Ray (sans the stripper pole.)  (Ok maybe 1 stripper pole.)

So anyway, Rosie, Cindy, and the Cyruses are all here trying to confuse and humiliate me on a daily basis.  For example, this weekend, we went to "the ranch" which is really just a fancy name for my mother-in-law's house.  I had my period just 2 weeks ago so I wasn't worried about bringing boxes full of feminine hygiene or ugly period granny panties.  Well the whole crew snickered at this oversight and went ahead and gave me a little gift in my underpants.  I'm pretty sure my MIL hasn't had a period in a few decades so she definitely didn't have any of the goods.  Also she lives in a tiny ass town where the stores close on Sunday in order for the locals to congregate and worship.  So I had to go a route I haven't had to take in awhile.  Stuff a wad of toilet paper into my cute and expensive VS undies and continue cursing Rosie and Cindy for their betrayals.  Of course this gift only lasted until I got home Sunday night where I had actual products available.

So now here we all are, trying to get along again.  But Miley and the Billy Rays have another thing coming.  They aren't going to make it.

Sleepless in BU-Ville

I've been out of town for 3 weekends in a row now, the first 2 without Logan and this last weekend, with him, but still travelling by car and sleeping in a hotel.  So, his sleep schedule that I worked so hard on (for 2 weeks) is now a flaming pile of horse shit.  We really screwed the pooch on this one.  Before I left the first weekend, I had him in bed by 8:30 pm and he would typically sleep until 6 am or sometimes even later.  The key here is that he was NOT waking up and wanting to eat every 3 god damn hours anymore.  Which, in turn, meant that I was sleeping more hours and less likely to breathe fire or smash anyone's testicles with my bare hands.

But anyway, while staying in the hotel I reverted back to the old 'let him sleep next to me and nurse through the entire night' system so that the other people in the room could sleep.  Man I'm a fucking sweetheart.  So now that's what he wants to do every night, i.e. wake up every 3 hours to eat.  So now we're back to sleep training 101 and loads of crying it out.  (And testicle smashing.)

Although it sucks to start at square 1 again, I have to admit that I look forward to the "bedtime routine" every night.  I change his diaper and put him in his jammy jams and then read him a story.  Then, while I'm nursing him, I sing to him.  I'm no song bird or anything but it doesn't stop Logan from liking it.  Every time I break out "You Are My Sunshine" he gets the biggest smile on his face and sometimes laughs a little.  So he either loves that song or agrees that I suck at singing and just smiles and nods along.  Either way, it is fucking adorable and I find it hard not to sing to him every time I nurse him throughout the day. 

And now for your viewing pleasure, here is a picture of him in his cliche first Halloween costume. 

Contemplation Gag Thursday

Contemplation Gag Thursday doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it?  But alas, I am in front of a computer again and Shift F7 is an old friend from college.  So here goes...

1 - A few weeks or months back I was complaining, whining, bitching about how I wasn't losing weight while breastfeeding.  Then I had a weekend of explosive diarrhea and vomiting and lost five pounds.  I've done my best to keep the weight off and I'm happy to report that I am now down TEN pounds.  Woot woot!!!  My goal was to lose 23 pounds total, so now the last 13 seems so much more attainable.  I'm stoked AND I'm starting to notice it too.  My face looks thinner and my clothes are looser.  It's fantastico.  My sincerest apologies Mother Nature and boobs and mammaries.  I shouldn't have doubted you.  Please keep proving what a (skinny) asshole I am.  Mmmkthanks.  (Also, does anyone else wait until AFTER you pee and take your clothes off in the morning to weigh yourself?  I swear my full bladder weighs at least 4 pounds.)

B - Sometimes if I'm short on time or if my back hurts too bad to lean over the tub, I have Logan shower with me.  It's pretty difficult because he gets all slippery and I have to put a kung fu death grip on his hamhock.  By hamhock I mean his really meaty thigh.  I'm telling you this because I'm not exactly sure what a hamhock is so I thought I'd better clarify in case it means something totally different.  Anyhoo, he is like a little greased pig in the shower so I have to hold on for dear life which means I can't exactly clean myself in the most efficient manner, especially in the parts that really need some cleaning.  So I've started laying him on his towel and letting him play while I shower up and then I get out and grab him and shower him too.  This morning I went about this business and by the time I had taken 5 minutes to clean all the essentials, I stepped out of the shower to find him in a puddle of his own urine and with two little poopies stuck to his hamhocks. 

* - I've discovered that I can comment on your blogs if I use my cell phone.  This means all comments will be full of errors and autocorrect madness.  Who am I kidding?  They probably would be if I did them on the computer too.  Learn to love it folks.  (P.S.  I love saying folks.  I'm going to bring it back.)

IV - The Hubs and I have always butted heads when it comes to money.  I am, prepare for it, an accountant by trade.  I know that accountants usually don't say fuck and talk about their explosive diarrhea but I am the exception.  I have neon sparkly pocket protectors.  But anyway, to say I'm anal about money is an understatement.  The Hubs is an entrepreneur by trade, i.e. big picture guy.  He would rather slit his wrists than deal in the details of money.  Awhile back it was affecting our marriage so much so that I finally had to throw my hands up in the air and ask myself if I'd rather have a good credit score or a good marriage.  So I did the hardest thing possible and relinquished control of the money over to him.  As feared, it was detrimental to my credit and my water got shut off more than once due to non-payment, but it seems as though we have worked through our money issues.  We finally sat down the other night and put together a budget.  It seems as though most normal people do this, AND apparently it is imperative if you are a single income family like we are now.  We figured out the reason we are always broke is because we SPEND all our money.  Gasp, sigh, OMG!  We actually had to have a spreadsheet drawn up to figure this out.  Ok truth be told, I pretty much knew the problem, but I had to wait for the Hubs to have it be his idea.  It's just how he works folks.  So, now we are on a budget.  We have money.  Our bills WILL be paid on time.  And it was nice to have a conversation about money that didn't end in us screaming at each other.  Damn this therapy shit might actually be working. 

Confessions

Confession #1 - I am a horrible blog friend.  I admit it.  I apologize for it.  I swear I do read everything you dudes write but I cannot for the life of me get my commenting shit to work.  And I'm too lazy/tired to figure out the problem.  Feel free to not comment on my blog if you are offended at my lack of commenting.  (This is a lie.  Please keep commenting.  I swear I'll fix it soon and I need you to validate me.  (Just kidding.  Sort of.))  It's not that I'm that lazy really, it's just that I'm a working mom now too AND I bring my baby to work with me so I seriously am sitting here with him on my lap while typing this and simultaneously catching his toys as they fall off my desk.  God forbid he drops them on the floor and I have to sanitize them.  Not to mention every time someone walks past my office I have to click on something else so it looks like I'm doing some actual work. 

Confession #2 - I never sanitize anything.

Confession #3 - Sometimes I hold my baby's butt up to my nose and sniff it to check for smelly diapers.  I think this might be somewhat normal though right?  The sniff test?  I don't ever sniff anybody else's butt though. 

Confession #4 - I'm totally snoopy.  I've been fully busted going through my husband's phone.  I discovered our top secret honeymoon plans by snooping through the computer.  I dig through drawers and receipts all the time.  I am a rubber neck at car accidents and I'm always down for a good gossip sesh.  I'm working on it, but me = nosey.

Confession #5 - When I'm alone, I sometimes chew as noisily as I want to.  Like mouth wide open, nom nom nom, lips smacking and everything.  One day I did that in front of the Hubs and told him I do that when I'm alone sometimes and he thought it was just about the most repulsive thing he'd ever seen.  To be fair though, he has some weird issues with chewing with your mouth open.  I decided maybe that's one I should keep to myself for a few more years.

Confession #6 - I just did spell check and found that I had spelled "confession" incorrectly 3 times in this post.  That's not even the biggest word here. 

What Happens in Vegas...

This weekend, the Hubs and I got away to Las Vegas for his birthday.  We figured out on the way that the last time just the two of us went on a trip together was our honeymoon, and that was 10 years ago.  Fail.  Then we figured out there actually was one other weekend trip we took together but that was during the dark period of our marriage and we fought the whole time and came home early.  So we decided that didn't count.  Oh sure there have been other vacations, but they usually involved children pooping their pants or vomiting in the car.  Or there was a magical trip to Maui with some other couples where the girlfriend of one of they guys was caught stealing a necklace at the souvenir shop and she left her period stained panties on the bathroom floor for 3 days.  I mean, how much could a puka shell necklace from Hilo Hattie actually cost?  Like 10 dollars?  We were all asked to leave.  It was awesome.  And come on lady, when you share a bathroom with another couple, you can't just leave your undies lying around (with or without stains.)

Anyway, we had tickets to a show on Saturday night and then decided to walk the strip afterward.  Hubs kept saying, "Is that a hooker?"  And then making sideways eyes motions at some lady that had very little clothing on.  If you've never been to Vegas, let me just tell you, most ladies have very little clothing on.  It was about 2 a.m. at this point and also there were even a few ladies with very little clothing on, pushing strollers down the strip.  Again, if you've never been to Vegas, let's just say it's not for kids after dark.  There are people all over handing out porn and cards for hooker hot lines.  There are even trucks that drive up and down the street with pictures of nearly nude ladies with phone numbers for them.

I forget what my point was because I got distracted telling you how skanky Las Vegas was.  But anyway, we had a great time and it was nice to be alone together.  I sure missed my babies though.  Maybe in another decade we'll get away again.  Also why does hotel sex seem so much more awesome than at home sex?  Discuss.

TVT

TVT is my fave-skis.  Will you guys be upset if I just start doing TVM, TVT, TVW, TVT, TVF?  Coherency isn't my friend and thought vomit is.  Regular vomit is still not.

-   So my period is a week late.  That pretty much never happens to me so I was getting a little suspicious that my uterus had a secret.  (I just heard Madonna singing, "Ooooh, ooooh my baby's got a secret...")  So what else could I do but pee on a stick?  I was sick to my stomach and shaking when I was waiting for the results.  Eventually they came up "NOT PREGNANT."  It was a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.  If I were to have another baby soon, I would be thrilled, HOWEVER, I am not quite ready yet... so that was the relief.  The sadness came from 3 years of getting these same results and I don't know if that feeling will ever go away.  Plus, just for one pregnancy, it would be nice if it were effortless.  I'm not sure if that's in the cards for me.  I have been pregnant 5 times.  That is weird.

-  Fiber One Brownies.  Get them.  They are fantastic.  I'm not sure if they really make you poop or not, but they taste wonderful and they are only 90 calories. 

-  My old job called me this week and asked me if I could come help out for a few days.  The guy who took my job just had a baby so he was off for a week and needs help getting caught up.  So I'm a working mama this week and I gotta say, it feels kinda great.  Luckily my parents can watch my kids while I'm away AND they live close by the job so I can run over at lunch and feed Logan.  It's nice to have conversations with actual people that talk back and have a lunch date with my little man.  It makes me feel slightly less crazy than normal.  It looks like they need help until the first week of November so HELLO Christmas money!  Maybe they'll invite me to the Christmas party again this year and I can drink a bottle of wine by myself and sing Christmas karaoke at the restaurant (where there isn't actually any karaoke going on.)  It will be just like last year, except this time I won't start the wrapping paper on fire on the candle.  (Ok none of that really happened last year, except the fire.)

-  Since I'm back to work for a few weeks, I will be of course, blogging more.  What good is a job if you can't write your blog at your desk once a day?

Happy Thursday everyone!!  As promised.... fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck.  Fuckers, fuckface, fuck off, fuck you, fuck nugget, FFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!

WTF

Ok, first of all, every time I try to post on somebody's blog it says I do not have access to their page and to log out and try again.  Does anyone know why the FUCK this is happening?  It's super annoying when I have a brilliant comment typed out and then it gets mother fucking deleted.  (Also the comments probably aren't that brilliant.)

Next, I decided to medicate.  It hasn't been an easy decision and I'm having issues about the anti-depressant crossing into the breast milk.  But I spoke with Dr. Awesome's nurse, Nurse Awesome and she was what else, awesome.  We discussed everything I've been doing to help with the depression and anxiety and it went a little something like this:

NA: "Are you exercising regularly?"
BU: "4-5 days a week."
NA: "Have you tried yoga?"
BU: "Every Wednesday night I take a yoga class."
NA: "Are you eating a balanced diet?"
BU: "Yes."
NA: "Have you thought about seeing a counselor?"
BU: "I'm going twice a month already."

So after that conversation, she assured me that I am doing everything possible to make it better and that my baby needs me to be the best I can be and if that means taking meds, then let's do it.  I'm on the lowest dose possible and now that I finally made the decision and started the medication, I am so relieved!  Of course, it takes 2-3 weeks for it to really kick in, but I feel good about my choice and confident that I will be returning to my normal self soon.  I've been far too quiet, reflective, overwhelmed and just plain sad lately. 

I'm making a big assumption that anyone is still reading because this post is boring and probably a little TMI, but if you're still here, nice work.  Way to hang in there.  I will return to funny things and more of the F word tomorrow. 

Boobs Fart Too! (Or Things I Learned in Colorado)

This weekend I went to Colorado to meet up with some bloggy ladies that are near and dear to my weepy little asshole heart.  Nat, Josey, Amanda, Oak, Kelly and I all met up for a wild, drunken whirlwind of a weekend.  Ok so maybe Amanda and I were the only drunk ones but that is beside the point.  Duh.  We also skyped with Elizabeth for a couple of hours on Saturday and even though she said she was drinking a glass of water, I like to think it was vodka. 

It was kind of perfect timing for everyone, myself included, because I was having quite a rough week with the Hubs.  So I decided to spend the weekend reflecting on everything I'd been through and everything I am continuing to go through and to try and gain some perspective and peace within myself.  And with a lot of reflection, I learned the following:

- These women are real.  And raw.  And amazing.  I felt so much comfort in the fact that they already knew the worst parts of me, and yet, still wanted to meet and hang out with me for a whole weekend.  There was no fake conversation, no surface judgement and no reason to pretend that reflection on IF hurt any less than it really does.  They have all been there, they have all hurt too, and they all thought it was ok if I had to tell them a story or cry a little and let them say, "I understand."  It. Was. Epic.

- Men are clueless without us.  I know this goes without saying, but I kid you not, I made a fucking agenda for each of my children and left it with the Hubs.  Bugs missed soccer practice, forgot to wear pajamas on pajama day at school, and neither children were bathed AT ALL for the entire 4 days I was gone.  Every single one of these items was on the agenda, including the bath.  Oh yes, I put **BATH** on both agendas not because I am crazy anal list maker lady (although come to think of it, I am) but because I knew that Hubs wouldn't think of bathing them unless I wrote it down.  Turns out, he didn't do it anyway.  But to his credit, the children are both alive, he made it to the airport on time, and he even did some dishes.  AND the cake topper was that he told me that he appreciated me more for what I do everyday because he got a reminder of what it is like to take care of an infant alone for an extended period of time.

- Boobs fart too.  Kelly, Nat and I had pumping parties at the table and our boob farts were off the hook.

- Nat is super slutty in an underrated way.  (By underrated, I mean PG.)

- Did I mention all these ladies are beautiful too?  Like beautiful to look at?  Totally hot MILF weekend.  Proof:



Oak, Kelly, Amanda, Josey, Me, Natalie

 Please ignore any other photos of me posted by the other gals because somehow I ended up looking like a lesbian all weekend.  (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)  Also it is highly likely that I have an alcoholic beverage in my hand in most of the pics, obviously.

So there you go, you've been recapped.  I also made some additional discoveries and decisions about depression which I will post about sometime this week.

My Parenting Skills Might Need Work

This morning I was trying to get Bugs ready for school.  He woke up before I did and just started watching TV.  He's not so much a self starter.  When I finally dragged my lazy ass out of bed, I went in and tried to get him going on clean clothes, teeth brushing etc.  He was slow-moving, to say the least.  He took off his clothes, sniffed, and said, "What is that smell?"  My highly irresponsible, tired (12 year old) mind replied with, "I think it's your butthole."

My kid is 7 ok.  Why on earth would I decide to reply with something as sophomoric as the word butthole?  I started laughing because well, I amuse myself, but inside I was thinking about how maybe I need to get a grip and/or take a parenting class. 

Last night I had teenagers babysit my children for 3 hours.  It's the first time I've left L with someone who wasn't an actual adult, and it was GREAT!  I left my house at 6:30 because I was going to therapy (obviously) and afterward I went for a drink with my husband, came home at 9:45 and the kids were ASLEEP.  It was fantastic.  I'm not sure how much to pay babysitters though.  There were 2 of them and we paid them each $20, which made it quite an expensive little therapy sesh, but I wasn't exactly sure how much 16 year old chicks that drive need to get paid to come to my house.  I'm pretty sure I got like a dollar an hour to babysit when I was a kid, but then that was like a gazillion years ago.

Finally, I think I might have to come out to the Hubs about the blog.  I have some issues lately and last night I found myself in a discussion with him about how we shouldn't be keeping any secrets from each other and my mind immediately came to this.  I'm just not sure.  He'd be mad.  Like way mad.  And he'd want me to stop writing it.  And I can't.  I need you guys.  

TVT

I've never posted from my phone until now so if it's short, stupid and full of autocorrect errors, I apologize.

- Sleep training is WORKING dudes!!! L slept from 8:30 until 5:30 the first night and 9:00 til 6:30 today. Both mornings I went ahead and fed him when he woke up and both mornings he went back to sleep until 8ish. I am one happy lady.

- l had a doctors appointment and L weighs in at a whopping 17 pounds now! He's come quite a ways from the 5 pound nugget he was at birth. Way to go double d's. Note to self: sleep training success might be due to immunizations.

- Speaking of DD's, does anyone find it odd that as a teenager I referred to my boobs as Ren and Stimpy? Why would they be male? Does that make me transgender? Why not Thelma and Louise or Wilma and Betty?

- I have accidentally become an alcoholic. I didn't mean to. I'm just home alone alot and all the sudden a lightweight. So I get drunk by myself alot. I sortof don't have a problem with it.

- This spring the heater in my car stopped working. I forgot about it until today when it was snowing. It actually works when I'm driving but blows cold air when I stop. So as long as I don't hit any red lights, my baby stays warm. Hear that Universe? If my baby gets pneumonia, that's on you for not giving me a green light.

- I'm over typing on the iPhone and Logan keeps trying to help me.

God Damn You Mr. Sandman

L and I had "the talk."  I was all, "Look dude, mommy is fucking tired.  We can't do this wake up 3 times a night shit and you come to my bed and be all suckle suckle for 5 hours a night."  He was like, "But mom, I love sleeping next to you and when your boobies are right there, why wouldn't I try to nurse all night long?"  And then I said, "Because I am fucking tired and I am not being a very good mom, or person, in general because I am a grouchy beast every day.  So you need to stay in your room and sleep all night."  Then he gave me a wink and said, "We'll see mom, we'll just see."

So now I can't lose.  I will prevail.  I am so serious about this shit that I read a book about it.  So the new and improved sleep program started tonight.  Bedtime routine starts at 8 and he is in bed by 8:30.  Tonight he cried for about 20 minutes.  I went in every 10 and checked on him and told him he was fine.  Falling asleep itself hasn't been the big challenge though, it's the staying asleep in the night.  But the premise is that if he can learn to fall asleep by himself without any vibratey thing-a-ma-jigs or holograms on the wall that when he wakes up in the night he will also fall back to sleep by himself. 

So it's on mother fuckers.  It is so on.  The first night that I get 8 hours of sleep in a row, I will do a cartwheel and post a video of it on here.  (This is a lie.  I am far too old and heavy to do a cartwheel.  I have delicate wrists.)  But perhaps I will celebrate with my own vibratey thing-a-ma-jig.  (Which I will not post a video of because that would be pornography.) 

I feel as though I sometimes cross a little too far over the line.  But that's why you love, er like, er tolerate me right?

Thought Vomit Thursday (on Friday)

Thought Vomit Thursday is pretty self explanatory right?  Right.  Mmmk.

- I know my new layout is ugly and "sparse" as Oak pointed out, but I promise I will change it.  I was looking through the blog dealy whopper selection thingy and trying to decide on a new design.  And then I got bored.  It's not that I'm not technologically savvy, it's just that constantly trying to figure out the changes all these mother fuckers make bores me.  It's like all this FB hullabaloo.  Everyone is all pissed off about the changes and I couldn't give a SHIT about it.  I still get to say fuck and post pictures of my drunk eyeballs right?  Word.  FB and I are still bee eff eff's.

- The last couple of nights, my little adorable infant has decided to start waking up at 1:30 a.m.  I woke up and instantly thought, "Oh hell no, Mommy don't play that."  For you young 'uns out there google Homie the clown and you'll get my old school reference.  And for reals, in my head I really said, "Oh hell no, Mommy don't play that."  I swear it, I really did.  So I went in to his room to make sure he wasn't dying, and it's a good thing I did too because he was lying on his stomach!  Gasp! I'm not sure how I'm going to handle the stomach sleeping heart attack sitch I have going.  But right, yeah, back to his room.  I talked to him, comforted him, told him it was ok but there was no way in fucking hell I was feeding him and/or letting him come in my bed at 1:30 a.m.  That wily little critter looked at me with those sad eyes and big frown and talked me into feeding him.  But I stood over his crib and fed him and after 2 minutes he was asleep again.  We are going to have a talk about this.

- I need activities.  I'm bored and getting depressed sitting at home.  So here they are: every day... gym.  I've been waiting for L to get "a little older" before I dumped him off at the gym daycare because it's really not the greatest.  I'm not even sure anyone will pay attention to him at all.  But it's only an hour a day, and I can check on him, and I'm sure he won't die.  Well mostly sure.  I hope they don't lay him on his stomach.  And on Mondays at noon I am going to the movies by myself.  I always want to see movies but never do.  So taking a baby to the movie won't be so bad Mondays at noon right?  I tested it out today.  It wasn't bad.  I ate a lot of popcorn though.  Also my sister and I are trading babysitting once a week so we can volunteer at our kids' schools.  So at least I'll be able to hang with her a little each week.  Other than that, my ass is getting skinny and hot.  Oh plus I'm still taking an online college class.  I'd better get busy on that.

- I took Dr. Laura's books back to the library.  I couldn't take anymore.  Obviously.  If you were thinking about trying it, here are the good parts: Try to be grateful for the things your husband does for you.  Compliment your husband on his hard work, hot bod, and general awesomeness.  Fuck him 3 times a week.  The bad parts are about 300 pages long.  They include such nonsense as it's all your fault if your husband is an asshole or forgets your birthday, if you have a career you are a horrible mother, and if you don't want to fuck 3 times a week do it anyway because your man is more important than what you want or don't want.

- That's all I've got.  And now in true TVT fashion, it's time to get drunk.  Oh wait, is that part of the deal, or do I just keep hoping it is?

A Tribute to RockStar

My pal Josey is pregnant with her little RockStar.  Today is the first day of the long awaited 3rd trimester.  So as a tribute to her and her little one, I am giving her this gift:

Ok so I suck at taking pictures, but I'll tell you about it.. it's a sleeper with guitars on it that says "Mommy's Rockstar."  And it was Logan's.  Now, you might be thinking to yourself, "Well that BU is kindof an asshole for celebrating Josey's little miracle with some used clothing."  To that I say, "Screw you for judging me."  And also that there is a reason I am giving her used clothing.  That reason is that every time I have looked at these pajamas, I have thought to myself, "I should give these to Josey."  It's not because I'm cheap or an asshole (although I am both), but because they make me think of her and her baby every time. 

I started reading Josey's blog because she always had the sweetest comments for other bloggers and I wanted to check her out.  I kept reading her blog because she is sweet and sincere and funny and even though I have never met her IRL (yet!) I feel a kinship with her as I'm sure we all do.  Maybe our ovaries send telepathic messages to each other.

Lastly, I wanted to congratulate Josey (and her entire family really) and let you all know how happy I am for you that you are soon going to have this new little miracle in your real lives.  Josey, you are going to be a mommy.  A mommy.  Like a real life mom to a real life human.  I know it probably still feels surreal and it probably will until your baby is about 2 months old.  It never gets old seeing their smiling faces or hearing their oohs and aahs.  And as they get older, each stage brings something new and exciting to see and do.  I am so, so happy for you and cannot wait for your little RockStar to come and bless your life even more. 

All my love,
BU

P.S. If he/she really turns out to be an actual RockStar, please don't become a stage mom.

It Turns Out I'm Not That Awesome

Saturday was a crazy day.  There was this well, interesting protest going on in my city against some recent stupid law changes that affect people like myself that enjoy consuming alcoholic beverages.  So someone organized this protest that snowballed into being about EVERY law that anyone thought was stupid.  Which is great and all, but that escalated into it being one gigantic SHIT SHOW.  It was at a public plaza and there were beer and food vendors.  Now, the Hubs owns some restaurants and was one of the food vendors.  I went to help, but mostly to witness the madness and drink the beer.  Obviously.

And then, after getting drunk off of only 2 beers, the worst possible thing happened.  Someone handed me a bottle of Black Velvet.  Yes, you read that right, it was Black Velvet, the skankiest of all whiskeys.  And you know what I did ladies?  Well I did what any self-respecting aspiring drunk ass would do... drank it straight from the bottle.  Dear God. 

And then came the rum.  And then more beer.  And by 9:30, I WAS THE SHIT SHOW!  That's 9:30 PM by the way.  This is the first time I have really tied one on since before being pregnant with L, and let me tell you something... I did NOT pull it off.  By about 10, I had to sit on a stool and drink water.  I stopped trying to talk because it did not make sense anyway.  Sunday I asked the Hubs if I did anything embarrassing and he lied and said no but he didn't lie that well.

Oh yeah and I had to go home to my children after and wake up twice during the night to feed Loags (frozen milk, not Black Velvet milk.)  By 7:30 he was up for the day and I swear to you that the room was actually spinning.  My boobs were hard as rocks and I didn't have my pump with me so all I could do was lift my shirt and try to shoot my husband in the eye with my intoxicated milk.  Ok that part was awesome.

But the rest?  Not that awesome.  I've written myself a letter to refer to next time I am in the throes of drinking...

Dear Drunk Self,
You are not 21 years old anymore.  Put your pants back on, nobody wants to see that.  Get your alcoholic beverage and dump it out right now.  RIGHT NOW.  Now take your other beverage (because I know you are double fisted right now) and dump that shit out too.  I repeat, you are not 21 years old anymore.  Ask your nearest server/bartender/friend for some water.  If they give you shit about drinking water, tell them to fuck off and then call a cab.  Nothing good can come from people that will not give you water.  Above all, you are way too classy a lady to drink Black Velvet or any other liquor that costs less than 10 dollars straight from the bottle.  (Or you are aspiring to be that classy.  Baby steps.)  Most importantly, remember that when you get home, you will not be able to just pass out and sleep it off.  AND IT IS GOING TO HURT.  For like a whole day.  It will hurt.  There will be vomit.  There will be crying.  And there will be crying babies.  Either take it down a notch, or go the fuck home you old old lady.
Sincerely,
Sober Self

Thought Vomit Thursday (or just another lame post)

Do you think it's bad if my only posts are now TVT's?  I am getting a little lazy in my lethargic SAHM haze.  I better start making coffee again.  Or mimosas.  Whatever.  So here goes.

- I am too lazy stupid to get Macster's cute little TVT button on my blog.

- I am currently at my sister's house "babysitting" my darling niece.  I use that term loosely because she is actually asleep and Logan is in my lap nose diving into the desk and crying because I won't feed him.  I am telling you this because I want you to know if there are a bunch of mistakes in this post it is because I can't figure out how to reach my pinky finger up to the "delete" key on her Mac.  (I'm BU and I'm a PC.)  Also my anonymity might be blown because I have no idea how to delete this site from her history.  (Hey sis!  My husband doesn't know I talk about our sex life and my poop/boobs/vagina farts on the web so let's keep this between us mmmk?)

- I think I've carved myself a little at-home business because I don't really like to make things easy on myself.  We'll see what happens.

- L's sleep schedule is not really working out for me.  I'm fucking tired and last night I cried about it.  Like laying in bed crying about being too tired to fall asleep.  Who does that?  Hubs thought I was crazy too and didn't know what to do so he just went ahead and fell asleep.  Do you think you can actually get arrested for punching someone in the back of the head while they are sleeping?  I mean, it could be an accident.  He wouldn't know... he was asleep.  I think I'd just need to get a lady judge to get cleared of that crime.  (Wow these are some crazy fantasies I have going in my head.  Just a sec... going to pour another mimosa.  Aaah, that's better.)

- This morning I was playing a little game of what I like to call "Logan is going to need therapy peek-a-boo."  This is where I was in the shower, naked, and playing peek a boo with him with the shower door.  It occurred to me at one point when I was flashing him that perhaps that game was inappropriate.

Blah Blah Blah My Baby is Awesome Blah Blah Blah

I tried Logan on solids again the last few days.  It's amazing what a difference a couple of weeks makes.  He totally gets it now.  He opens his mouth for the spoon, swishes the food about for a minute and then either swallows it or drools it back out of his mouth.  I went ahead and went to rice cereal because I figured mixing it with breast milk might make it easier for him to digest.  He also tried and loved pears.  This morning I gave him peas and he looked at me like You've got to fucking be kidding me mom.  Why in God's name would you put that shit in my mouth?  It was awesome.

Speaking of breast milk, I recently decided to take two weekend trips in a row in October.  I haven't left Logan overnight once, let alone for 2 weekends in a row!  So I'm sorta freaking out about that (freaking out like aw man, I'm going to miss my baby so bad while I'm drunk and having a fabulous time!)  So now comes the stockpiling of the bags of frozen breast milk.  I'm pretty much with him 24/7 so I don't pump that much... just enough to have a few bags in the freezer in case I go crazy and run away for a few hours.  So now I'm starting to feed him on one side and pump on the other in order to fill up the freezer with milk that is NOT laced with vodka.  I'm hoping this crazy pump spree will miraculously trigger loads of weight falling off my body so that I will look skinny and amazing on my trips. 

Logan is helping me write my post today.  I'm hiding behind his head because I'm not too photogenic right now...

I don't know if you can see it or not, but his super cute monkey pj's are stained green with the remnants of this morning's pea eating experience.  He waited until after I got the bib off and then spit out some more just to prove his point. Eff you mom and your disgusting green peas.

Speaking of Funny Videos...

TVT

I was planning my post in my head before I logged in and realized it was Thought Vomit Thursday and then I peed my pants a little from excitement because my post for today is a lot of whining about my life and TVT is the perfect format for such a thing.  So here goes.

- I am in a funk.  I can't seem to get anything done all day except exorbitant amounts of tv watching and breast feeding.  Laundry is sitting in baskets either dirty or worse, clean and getting all wrinkled.  I just don't wanna.  I have these visions of my children looking back on me and remembering me as the mom who stayed in her sweats all day and alternated eating a giant spoon of whipped cream over the sink and drinking a glass of wine.

- I can't get rid of this stomach garbage I've had since last Friday.  I spend bouts of time feeling better in which I force myself to eat because my milk is declining and I'm fucking starving all the time.  Then I spend the next few hours with stomach cramps and wondering if what is happening below is going to turn into a shart. 

- I think Logan must be teething.  He is crying.  A lot.  And when I feed him he keeps trying to bite the shit of my nipple.  No he doesn't have teeth, but those gums can sure clamp down on my bidness.  He wants me to hold him all the time and doesn't understand that I can't hold him and  the whipped cream and try not to shit my pants at the same time.

- My period made a comeback in the middle of the night last night.  So that was fun.  I usually get symptoms for a few days before it shows so that I'm prepared.  Well not this time, and this one is a real live period with cramps and tampons and everything.  I don't think it's fair. 

- It's 12:26 and I am still in my sweats drinking coffee while Logan cries in his bouncy chair.  I think today I am going to wash my hair and actually leave my house.  I'm just not sure what for yet. 

Gag-a-licious!

I went ahead and got food poisoning this weekend.  It was awesome.  Full fledged puking, nausea, diarrhea, gut cramps, body aches and fever.  (Side note - will I EVER learn to spell diarrhea right on the first try?)  It started Friday night and as of today I still can't eat a real meal without the cramps.  The good news is I lost 5 pounds already, but the bad news is that I had explosive diarrhea (first try!) and I'll gain that weight back just as soon as I can shovel some food down my throat.

Speaking of gagging, I want to fill you in on my Dr. Laura book.  Ok, ok, she has some good points about being positive and showing your man you still think he's the shit, but my god I can't read some of it without wishing I had explosive diarrhea instead.  Take, for example, her ideas of getting your man to take out the trash.  Scenario 1 is that you nag him to death until he takes it out.  We all know this might work to get the trash in the bin, but it doesn't make for a pleasant evening.  So she suggests Scenario 2:

"Let him know you've wrapped up the trash and that it's sitting by the back door, and ask him if, when he has time, he would please dump it in the trash bin ... Catch him just as he's coming back from tossing the bag in the can.  Give him a big kiss and tell him that it was a big help because it's hard for you to hold the can lid up with one arm and pitch a very heavy bag with the other hand."

Go ahead and take a moment for laughter and/or vomiting.

I hated this paragraph so much that I called at least 6 people and read it to them.  I kept thinking about it because I wanted to understand exactly what it was that I so loathed.  I hate that it implies that I am too physically weak to take out the trash because that isn't true at all.  I hate that it implies that I should kiss my husband's ass for taking out the trash when I am usually the one who does it without any sort of acknowledgment from anyone.  And I found it cheesy to think that I should compliment my husband on how strong he is.

Then I thought some more.

I do think my husband is strong.  I like that my husband is strong.  I sometimes get turned on my the way his triceps muscle cuts in and feels really sexy.

And I have never told him that.

Why would it feel cheesy or embarrassing for me to tell my husband of 10 years that I like how strong he is?  I love it when he tells me I'm pretty or that he thinks I'm a good mom, and I don't think those things are cheesy at all.

So, girls, I fucking tried it.  I did NOT do it the Dr. Laura way because it is super gay and way fucking lame.  But I did say the following when he took out the trash Thursday night, "Thanks for taking out the trash babe.  It's really hard for me to get that done when I'm taking care of the baby."

All of that was true.  None of it compromised myself or my integrity.  And it made him feel really good.

There have been a few other incidents where I've broken out some cheesy compliment that a week ago I would have rolled my eyes over.  But I swear to G-O-D

IT FUCKING WORKS.

In just like 5 days my husband has become more attentive, cuddly, affectionate, helpful and just nice.  We had a great weekend together (minus the vomiting) and today he even took a few hours of the day off to take me to lunch and take a nap together.

Honestly, long term, I don't know if it will work out to keep being a cheese ball. But if the reciprocity continues as it is, I can see it happening.  Fucking Dr. Laura.

TVT Bitches!

- I'm starting to feel like an old lady whenever some website or cell phone makes a big change.  Like blogger, for example... I just switched to the new scenario and I felt like maybe I should pull out some glasses and look down my nose through them and type with one finger until I get the hang of it.  Hopefully I know how to even post this post.

- Last night the Hubs wanted to go night golfing with some pals and I acted like a 16 year old idiot baby face and threw a tantrum over it.  He works A LOT, like A LOT.  Sometimes he doesn't get home until 8 or 9 or 10 or even later so the thought of spending another entire day AND evening talking like a moron to my children sent me over the edge.  I'm not proud of it, but it happens sometimes.  I went to the liquor store and got myself some wine to get over it.  Then watched trashy tv all night.  It's possible that I could turn in to an alcoholic if I don't get a life soon.

- Speaking of getting a life, did I mention I decided to go back to school?  I am quite the professional student.  I have a bachelor's degree,  I tested and was eligible for hire for the local fire department right before the economy took a shit and they instilled a hiring freeze, I am a massage therapist, an EMT and now I am planning on going to nursing school.  I have to do some prerequisites because I'm old but the chances of me getting in to the program are pretty good I think.  The only problem is I don't really want to be a nurse.  I mean I do want to be a nurse, just not the traditional kind that work in a hospital cleaning up shit and blood clots.  I'd like to do something more education oriented, but I'm not exactly sure what that's going to look like yet.  This is a long term goal because I'd like to just take a few classes here and there until Logan gets a wee bit older.

- Do you think it's weird that I have fantasies about all my bloggy friends meeting one day?  Settle down, I'm not psychotic or anything, you dudes are just the chicks I have THE most in common with.  I think we should all meet in Vegas one weekend.  And then get drunk.

Solid Effort

Isn't that title clever??  Sometimes I amaze myself.

Anyway, we started solids.  The doc told me it is now beneficial to start the babies on veggies rather than cereal because, well, they don't really need the cereal anymore.  It used to be iron fortified for those few decades when women weren't breastfeeding but now that we are, and also that formulas have iron, blah blah you get the point and I was boring myself explaining that.

I am going to attempt to make my own baby food eventually, but for the first few efforts I decided to just get some organic jars of vegetables before I fully commit.  But it just so happened that I had an organic avocado in my fridge and discovered through Dr. Google that it is an excellent vegetable or fruit (or whatever it is) for babies.  So I mashed it up guacamole style, put on a sombrero, and fed it to my baby.  He loved it, but didn't quite get the hang of opening his mouth and/or swallowing.

I tried the avocado for a few days, then switched to carrots, then switched to squash.  He's still not turning into the cute baby bird like the Mac-ster.  He mostly just tastes the food, enjoys it, and then drools it all over himself.  And this adventure has also taken a toll on his butt cheeks.  He has diaper rash like you wouldn't believe.  It looks like someone poured acid on his ass.  (<---- it's weird how funny I think I am when I say stuff like that.  ASSID on his ASS. OMG.  Maybe I need to get out more.)

After all is said and done, I have decided that he is not quite ready for the solids.  Or maybe it's that I'm lazy and it makes me sad when he cries because his bum hurts.  Either way, we're taking a break from it for another week or so.  I actually might revert to the cereal because it seems like if he shits out some rice it might hurt less than shitting out vegetable goop.

This is like the South Park episode where they said shit as many times as they could.  Speaking of South Park, my god, a bunch of you gals live in Colorado!  Maybe we should have a Rocky Mountain mom meet up sometime??? 

Thought Vomit Thursday

It's my first TVT and I couldn't be more happy.  I might just start making all my posts like this. 

- Hubs got me into watching Lost.  We didn't watch it while it was on tv and I think that's the way to go.  We have all 120 episodes on hand without commercials.  It's the worst show EVER yet I can't seem to stop watching it for 4 hours a day.

- I decided to go back to school for nursing.  My first degree was in business management and it was 10 years ago so none of the pre-requisites apply.  I don't have to take everything all over again because that would be lame sauce, but I do have to take the scientifical ones again like biology, anatomy, etc.  I decided to take one class this semester just to get my feet wet again.  It's an online course, which were not offered when I was in college (a decade ago) so I have no idea what I'm doing.  It's kind of great to not have to go anywhere since I rarely get out of my pajamas these days, but it is also hard because I can't seem to get myself to crack a book either.  (Fucking Lost.)

- Oh yeah, I forgot about this little doozy.  I. Got. My. Period.  WTF?  I'm still exclusively breast feeding, Loags hasn't started solids yet, and he sure as shit isn't sleeping through the night every night.  So what up Mother Nature?  It wasn't like a normal period, but it was there for a week.  And I had cramps.  Cramps.  Oh my god.

- I bought Loags a jump-a-roo.  Do you guys have one?  It's a little jumpy activity set that lights up and allows me to set him down for a few without worrying about him falling off shit or vomiting down his face.  Of course he hates it, but I will prevail.  He will LEARN TO LOVE IT. 

That's all the thoughts I have for now.  Am I supposed to go vomit now?  Ooooo, IDEA!  Maybe TVT should start with excessive drinking?

Hell Freezes Over

Have you ever had the unfortunate experience of listening to Dr. Laura speak?  She has, or had a radio show.  I'm not sure if she still does because I hate her guts so I don't ever listen to her.  She says stuff about how if you have children and a vagina and you work that you are somehow the DEVIL and your children will grow up to be whores and junkies because you lack a soul.  She also encourages you to kiss your husband's ass and probably tells women to make sure the house is clean and that you have dinner and a drink waiting for your man when he gets home from bread-winning.  Also probably that you let him put his penis in your butthole if that is what he so desires.  (I'm not really sure if she says any of that other than the first part about being a stay at home mom (also that probably isn't verbatim.))

Of course, the Hubs loves her.  (Apparently we don't have too much in common.)

Dr. Whore-a has a book about how to treat your husband.  It's basically like what men need from their women to feel like big strong manly men.  Hubs has been telling me about it for years and I have been gagging and retching and pretending to slit my wrists every time he brings it up. 

Until today.

I was thinking today about the things that I need from him and how he sometimes doesn't give them to me because he is gagging and retching about them.  And sometimes I am thinking to myself, why won't he just do them if it makes me happy?  I mean they are little things like making sure the doors are locked before bed and putting the dishes away... things he finds annoying but that would mean a lot to me. 

So what if there are some little things that I can do that I haven't thought of that would make a big difference for him and in turn, our relationship?  I'm not talking about anal or anything, but maybe this crazy bitch lady has some actual ideas that will help us get closer?  I figured it was worth a shot so I went to the library and checked out the book (not buying it because, obviously.) 

It's possible that I will want to burn the book or throw it out the window.  But it's also possible that I might give something a try that will be a big deal to my husband.  Follow ups to come...  I haven't been able to bring myself to actually open the book yet.