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?