By dose is stuppy

I have had bad allergies since I was pregnant. I never had them before and now they full-on suck. My nose gets stuffy instantly if I am anywhere near dust, mold, smoke, too much perfume, etc. I finally went to the allergist who confirmed I am allergic to dust and mold and told me some things to do around the house to keep the allergens down. We did them all. We threw out 12 pillows, got new coverings for them, wash the bedding every week in hot water, got an air purifier. We have a TempurPedic mattress so there was no need to worry about that since dust/dustmites cannot live in the material the mattress is made from. Mike cleans and dusts the room for me once a week or so, because if I do it and kick up any dust, I am miserable for hours. I am also on three different allergy medications - Rhinocort, Zyrtec, and Singulair. Nothing works.

What's even more frustrating is that it's not just outside irritants that bother me. I seem to overproduce histamines to a lot of things. One drink and my nose is instantly stuffy. Two and I can barely breathe. Beer is better than wine; it has less sulfites which I assume is my problem. But get this: last night I went running outside since it was so nice out. Which, by the way, is torture on my lungs and throat. I guess I will stick to the treadmill. Whenever I get cold from being outside, I get hives, mostly on my legs. This has happened for as long as I can remember, and after researching and asking my doctor, she said it was my body producing histamines from the cold. Ok, hives. No problem. They itch, they go away. Fine. But last night, as I'm completing the last quarter mile, I sneeze about 87 times. By the time I get through the door, I can no longer breathe through my nose. I take my medicines and nothing works. I spend the rest of the night stuffy until I break down and take Afrin. It is a miracle cure and clears me instantly but is a last resort due to rebound stuffiness.

So, how is it that I'm allergic to dust, mold, drinking and the cold? I am concluded that I must have some serious ebola-like illness in which my body is acting against itself and I overproduce histamines. If I die from sneezing, I will miss you all.

The only thing that seems to unclog my nose is bendaryl. And when I take that, you might as well strip me naked, cover me with honey, and tie me to an ant hill because I will sleep right through it. So, today at wits end, desperately wishing for air through my nasal passages, I took two benadryl. But because I am home with Charlotte today, I figure I need an upper for my downer, so I brew coffee. This is not unusual. I always make coffee in the morning. But today? I drank a whole pot. Yeee-haw!

So, what did I do with this upper/downer combination? I decided to tackle this:

That is my pantry. Also known as The Place Where Crackers Go To Die.

So I tore it up:

And destroyed the kitchen in the meantime:

But an hour later, when all was said and done, there was this (cue angelic chorus and light shining from within pantry):

However, though this was now cleaned, organized and I was shaking slightly less, I realized that the baby was being quiet the whole time I was cleaning. Oh yes. You guessed it. As I was cleaning one section of the house, she was destroying another. Look closely at the evil grin as she squeals with glee as she throws her flashcards everywhere.

And this was once a Mr. Potato Head:

Dear Mrs. Potato Head,

We regret to inform you that your husband, Mr. Potato Head, was killed in the line of duty. He was a brave soul and fought the front lines of Charlotte Fields, NJ, with dignity, a yellow hat, and a crooked mustache. However, his convoy of ears, eyes, and noses was hit by a roadside bomb and we are unable to return his full body to you because it is strewn across a span of miles. We were able to find a pair of blue shoes that were melted together in the blast and will be sending these to you.

Our sincerest regrets,
AndreAnna & Mike

Dun, dun, dun DUN!

Dedicated to Lauren:
May you find marriage as awesome an adventure as I do.
I can't wait to be there with you on your big day!
Bridget says it all as she kisses you goodbye.

And now, without further ado, the bachelorette party post. (Grab a cookie and some tea - this is a long one.)

Let's start by going over the answers to the quiz:



Which girl (we'll number them 1-7 from left to right) did the following:

1. Puked.
2. Jumped off a stage.
3. Is now in a sling.
4. Baked a penis cake.
5. Performed lewd "air" sex acts on the bassist of a band. (Think air guitar - there was no touching involved.)

The answers are

1. #7
2. #1
3. #1
4. #2
5. #4

Caley' and Bren were the only ones to get the last answer right. Of course it was the bride who got up on stage! C'mon people, it is a bachelorette party. And there was no actual touching involved (so if her fiance is reading this, relax, it was all in good fun!)

Swistle also correctly guessed that Rachel (#2) baked the penis cake (for which I am now Google's reigning queen of "penis cake" searches.) The penis cake was a red velvet batter with chocolate icing. Feel free to come up with your own jokes, although "Well, if I baked it with green cake, it would be a greenis" was Rachel's funniest quote of the night. A greenis, people! I almost died.

So, as shown by the awesome limo in the picture, the night started out great. We had reservations at The Melting Pot so all piled into the limo, where we started drinking our faces off discussed global warming.

(What in Sam Hell am I doing? Or Bridget for that matter)

Now, go back and look closely at those pictures. Yes, those ARE beads in the shape of mini-schwangs. And yes, we wore them out in public. And yes, that IS a penis straw Lauren is drinking from - she carried it and used it all night.

So, we get to the Melting Pot, a fondue restaurant (aka heaven on earth), and have a dinner of biblical proportions, with a side of sexual harassment. You see, we had this waiter. Let's call him Young-but-Cute McNiceAss. We literally harangued him all night long and I firmly believe that if we were a table of men and our server a female, we would have been asked to leave. We asked him if he could serve us the rest of our meal in only his apron. We asked what time he got off work so he could be our mascot and hang out with us with no shirt on. We almost raised enough cash to get him to leave work and come with us to dance (shirtless of course). Of course, it was all in good fun, and Jeannine (the girl in the red shirt), was the worst-mouthed due to the copious amount of red wine imbibed with our fondue. Happily married, when she found out that our waiter had a girlfriend, she told him "That's okay honey. I have a roommate." At the end of the dinner, with our very mature "dare," she slipped him an extra $20 tip in his pants. Classic. He was fun and played along with us, got a great tip, and even let us take his picture:

We stuffed our faces and drank a few bottles glasses of wine at the restaurant:

Back in the limo we go to a shore bar/club called Jenkinsons. They have a local band that plays on Saturday nights. Drinking and dancing - usually not the best combination - ensued.

And we danced:

We slapped some asses.

I danced alone (cause I'm awesome like that).

We made faces

In the frenetic dancing, I may have even had my ass groped by a Rick Astley impersonator.

I showed him my wedding ring. He grabbed my ass again. I love drunk people.

We were having such a great time. And then it happened. The decline. You know that point in a drunken night where you can pinpoint the exact moment where things go from raging good time to what-the-fuck-just-happened? Yeah, I was sober enough (I kept drinking water with each drink like a big boring loser to keep my buzz but not get too drunk) to know the exact moment that this happened.

Some of us were on stage dancing with the band. I, at some point, also shook my tush on stage. However, I realized our welcome was wearing thin when I saw one of my friends (she shall remain nameless; It was not the bride, Keith, calm yourself) try and grab the cajones of the singer. I thought this would be a good time to get off the stage. I got down, and lifted my arms to help Bridget. Apparently, and though no one behind me had their arms up, or for some other reason only a drunken mind can interpolate, Bridget dove on me. As in catch-me-like-Baby-in-Dirty-Dancing dove. She may be a skinny bitch, but skinny bitches still fall like dead weight. She took me down with her. She fell to my upper left as I fell on my back. She landed on her shoulder and left side of her head and neck. Her feet or knees or something must have hit my shins, because a week later, I still have the bruises, and I smacked the back of my head on the dance floor. All I could think of was "oh my gosh, we're those drunk assholes at places that fall all over themselves that we make fun of. " Bridget did get hurt and was upset, so we went out towards the back to calm everyone down and get some air.

While standing outside, the bouncer taps me on the shoulder. Remember these?

The diamond earrings Mike gave me for our anniversary. The bouncer had one in his hand. I instinctively grabbed my ear and noticed it was gone, ripped off from the acrobatics, and thanked him profusely. Upon further inspection, the part of the earring that goes into my ear, that holds the dangling part, was missing. And no amount of searching could find it. With Bridget hurt, we decided to move on from Jenkinsons and head back to the bar where the mechanical bull was supposed to be. The good news at the time was that Bridget was too drunk to know how badly she hurt her arm.

This is her now, however, after a doctor confirmed that she separated her shoulder but promised she'd be out of the sling in time for the wedding on Saturday.

(yes, that is my husband laughing at her)

Off we go to the mechanical bull. I lie down in the limo and close my eyes because I get motion sickness and didn't want to hurl. When we get to the bar, I hear everyone clamoring around. Val (# 5) announces that Joanne (#7) is not going to go inside - she's tired and not feeling well. They all run out of the limo and I offer to stay and watch out for Joanne, the most demure, sweet one in the group. No sooner had the limo doors closed and I ask her how she is feeling, does she start throwing up. She tries to make it to the bag of penis paraphernalia, but misses mostly and ends up getting it all over herself. Now what? I'm in a city twenty minutes from the house at 1 am, with all the girls gone in a bar, with no spare clothes and a friend covered in puke. What do I do? I do what any grown adult would do. I call my mommy.

Well, not my mommy per se, but my mother-in-law who happens to live in the same town we were in. I actually called home first and asked Mike to call her because I was afraid if she heard my voice on the phone in the middle of the night, she would freak out with worry (Who died? Who's hurt? What happened? Ya know, mom stuff). Mike called back and said she'd be outside waiting for me. I had the limo driver navigate to my MILs house, where she was standing outside. She had been up. Her brother was visiting so she was up having a few glasses of wine and watching TV. She was wonderful as I brought Joanne in the house, literally hiccuping, and to the bathroom. She brought me sweat pants and a t-shirt and brought Joanne some water. Joanne was mortified, since out of all of us, she is the LAST person I would have thought would be in such a state, and kept repeating "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. I haven't thrown up since I was 17. I can't believe I puked in the limo." And my MIL just assured her, "Don't worry about it; I've been there. I'm glad I could help." At one point, Uncle Robert, a light-hearted funny guy, pops up from the basement to see what the commotion is, and when he asks what's going on, I reply by pointing to the bathroom and saying "My friend is sick." He opens his mouth to say something, the words catch in his throat, and he spins around and walks back down from whence he came. Having to call my mother-in-law in the middle of the night to help a drunk friend was not the highlight of my life, but she was so awesome about it, and I was incredibly grateful.

After we left my MILs, I called everyone's phone until someone answered and said we had to go home now.

Even though I missed it, they did get a chance to ride the mechanical bull, although from what I heard, they all sucked at it.

Eventually, they all stumbled to the limo and we made our way back to the safe house. By this time I was sober, but not safe enough to drive, since I had originally planned on staying over at Jeannine's. Since we had the limo till 3 and I was not drunk enough to sleep on a floor, I asked him to drive me home. So, there I sat with John the limo driver, who we now owed $200 extra to for the puke in the limo, which actually wasn't that bad since I cleaned most of it. We talked about family - his young son and my daughter and how, in every group of friends, there is always the "mother."

I guess it always has been me. Don't get me wrong. I've had my fair share of needing my hair held back, being helped off tables I was dancing on, being driven to the emergency room visits for broken bones because I fell off said table. I've been the puker and the one who fell. But I've always taken care of my friends - tried to always be there for them - making sure they were safe. I never felt it as a burden, never saw it is a bad thing, but who I was. Maybe that's why I was the first to settle down and have children; I wanted to be a mother - I always have.

Maybe some us are born mothers.

All I know is that this mother had one hell of a good time and I will never forget it.

This just in

My blog is Google's number one search hit for:

"homemade penis cake ideas"

I am now complete.

Haiku Friday

A stomach virus --
Not the best way to lose more
But, hey, I'll take it.

Kitten's still alive
Despite choking by toddler
Will he never learn?

On, off, on, off, argh!
Why can't she keep her shoes on?
It makes me berserk.

She tells me "no way!"
Only seventeen-months-old
I'm in for it, huh?

Flu shot time today
It breaks my heart every time
When my baby cries

Catching up on some stuff

"Charlotte, NO!!! That is NOT nice!" I hear shrieking from the hallway.

"What is she doing now?" I yell as I clean up dinner

"Carrying the cat around by the neck again."

"I don't know why he doesn't run away or fight back. He follows her around and loves her. He doesn't seem to care."

"He will when he's dead."

Indeed.



Today completes the six-week weight loss challenge a few of my friends did. It puttered out towards the end and went from a fierce but friendly competition to people just supporting each other's efforts, which is what matters. So, in the end, in 6 weeks, I lost 8 lbs. And this past weekend, I got into a size jeans I haven't been able to wear since before I had Charlotte. And now for some cookies! What? No cookies yet? The wedding is still in 10 days?!!? Argh! I want one so bad! But if they had a Cookies Anonymous, I'd be the chairperson. I eat one, then two, then a frumdrillion - and the batter! Oh sweet baby jeebus, the batter! I am salivating thinking about it. But, Lauren has confirmed that there will be a chocolate fountain at her wedding, and I can only hope and wish like a little girl for a pony that there will be cookies with which to dip.


Mike is taking a class this week for work much farther away than his usual commute and not getting home past 6 instead of 2:30. It is killing me. I have newfound respect for those moms who do this everyday, with husbands coming home late. I am used to the total reliance that we split parenting/household duties pretty much 50/50 and give each other breaks - to go the gym, shopping alone, reading, whatever it may be. We both have full time jobs, but I have a lot of wiggle room and flexibility in mine, which allows me to work from home, leave early, etc. But between working, commuting, taking on all of the cooking and cleaning, and most of the parenting, has left me spent and it's only Wednesday. There's like no "me" left by the time I lay my baby in her bed. Luckily, for me, this is only temporary and by Monday, things will be back to normal, but it really makes me think how lucky I am to have the husband I do and the schedule we share. Tired, but lucky.


The bachelorette party stories are coming! I'm thinking a big Friday post! In the meantime, here's a little taste:


(click for larger - you know you want to see my skinny hotness...right!)

They sent us an Escalade, even though we ordered a regular limo. SCHA-WING! This of course inflated our heads, which may or may not have caused us to get into a verbal altercation with another bacherlorette party at the same restaurant who arrived in a regular crappy limo who were trying to steal our hot waiter! PPFFFTT! AS IF!

Ok, now from looking at the picture, I want you to chose which girl (we'll number them 1-7 from left to right) did the following:

1. Puked.
2. Jumped off a stage.
3. Is now in a sling.
4. Baked a penis cake.
5. Performed lewd "air" sex acts on the bassist of a band. (Think air guitar - there was no touching involved.)

I will reveal the answers in my BIG POST!

Wordless Wednesday

Is it just me?

Or are the characters on TV with speech impediments really annoying?

I only have the TV on for 2 hours a day - Sesame Street in the mornings and WonderPets in the afternoon. Of course, there are days when this rule doesn't hold, but for the most part I got lucky enough that Charlotte is not very interested in TV. Unless of course there is a small red monster named EL-damned-MO or a frackin' duck-guinea pig-turtle triumvirate. She will also occasionally glance at Little Einsteins or Higglytowm Heroes but for the most part, is an EA (Elmo addict). These are educational shows and I grew up on Sesame Street so it kind of warms my heart a little when she sits with her morning milk squealing "ELMO! ERMIE! BUT!" (which I think is "Bert").

But, for the love of Target people, I seriously want to put Baby Bear and Ming-Ming on a Viking funeral pyre, set it aflame, and push it out to sea.

I understand what they are trying to do. There are people and children in this world with speech problems who should be represented - and they should not be shunned or made fun of, just as someone who wears a religious head garb, is disabled, has a foreign accent, or is a different skin color.

From Wikipedia:

"Ming-Ming is voiced by Danica Lee (Khloe Fry - UK Version). When Danica first auditioned for the part, she pronounced "R" sounds as "W" sounds, a common speech problem in young children. The producers found it endearing; so, even though by the time Danica was hired she had lost that problem, they asked her to continue speaking that way for the character."

Endearing? Methinks not. I really get it; I do. But I do not want my kid to look at me one day and say "This is sewious."

Am I the only one thinking of recipes that involve bear and duck?

Tuesday Twenty

41. I hate moths. Like, squeaky-little-girl-scream hate. I will pick up a spider and let it outside but will freak out if a moth flitters anywhere near me.
42. I have a degree in English Literature with minors in Writing, Anthropological Sociolinguistics, and Philosophy.
43. My degrees are pretty much useless unless I want to go back to school or teach, neither of which appeal to me.
44. I was an assistant teacher in an infant room at a daycare for 4 years to put myself through college.
45. It was the only job I've ever had that I truly enjoyed doing and looked forward to going to.
46. They pay preschool teachers crap and is why I left, which says a lot about the educational system in this country.
47. I have five tattoos.
48. I could never eat cake, pastries, candy, or pie again for the rest of my life and be fine, but would dig myself a hole and lie in it until vultures plucked my eyes out before I gave up cookies.
49. I bake like nobody's business but never cookies because I fear my husband would come home and find me in a sugar-induced coma on the floor and the baby will have set the cat aflame and be eating "fwuffies" from the jar.
50. I was a Sports Clerk for local teams for a pretty big state newspaper at nights in college.
51. I once drank an entire bottle of Bicardi limon. The campus police found me lecturing a crowd of people while standing on a picnic table with a wooden spoon. They were amused enough that they just took me home.
52. My favorite chocolate bar is a KitKat.
53. I hated Barbies growing up and used to paint their hair with nail polish and then set them on fire or bury them.
54. I was not a sadistic child, I swear. I liked My Little Ponies. They're cute and girly.
55. I was also obsessed with Van Halen until I was around 9.
56. I met Mike on match.com almost five years ago when he was in Iraq.
57. He came home in August and I picked him up from the airport. By December, we bought a house; by February we were engaged; and 18 months later, we were married.
58. About 5 days later, we were pregnant. Yep, I got knocked up in Hawaii on our honeymoon.
59. I had such an aversion to chicken when I was pregnant that I couldn't eat it for months after I had Charlotte.
60. Our wedding song was "Tonight" by Nina Gordon and it still gives me chills every time I hear it.

Friday and a cliffhanger

Friday night was the Spoon concert. If you don't know who they are, you'll recognize this song by them:



My friend Wendi has been friends with Eric, the bassist/percussionist/keyboardist, for a number of years. They were playing locally so she asked me if I'd go see them with her. On the drive down, we were talking about normal female crap - babies, sex, periods -- GOSHDANGIT! I forgot to change my tampon before we left! And because I took a clutch bag, there was no room for me to bring any. I asked Wendi if she had any in her Minivan O' Coolness and she didn't. So we began our quest to find a store at 9 pm on a Friday night that sold tampons. We found a little foodmart and I paid $65.99 for tampons and two bottles of Vitamin Water. Then, came the problem of needing a bathroom. I knew the place we were going to and knew the bathrooms would be gross, so we kept our eyes peeled for a Dunkin Donuts or McDonalds or something. We found none. I'll figure something out, I thought.

We got there a little bit before they were scheduled to go on, and Eric met us out front and walked us back to the tour bus, where I became the first person I know to change a tampon on the tour bus of a pretty famous band. I'm so fricken awesome, I can hardly stand myself. We had a drink and then went to the front to pick up our tickets because our name was on the list. Because the venue was small, there was no VIP section. But we did get to go backstage after the show and that was fun. I wasn't sure what to expect, maybe groupies and loud music, drinking and drugs. Instead, there was hummus and avocados, beer and water, and parents and family members of the band. We stayed for about an hour or so until they had to go back on the road to NYC. The people who would stop Eric while we were walking for autographs would shake our hands, thinking I must be important. Nah, sorry, just a suburban mom. But it was cool to be though of as otherwise for one night.

This is my favorite guy of the whole night:



I had to take the picture with the flash off so I wouldn't wake him to make sure I got this shot. Wendi and I were just sitting at a table where this guy literally stumbles, sits on a stool between us, laughs a little bit to himself, sways, then passes out. Classic. Rather than having to converse over a drunk guy, Wendi got the security guys to remove him.



I had a few of these



which is the direct reason for the awesome faces we're making here:





We got home around 2 and though tired, I had a great time! Now that I saw them in concert, I've been listening to their music all weekend and can't wait to see them next time they're around. Leo will keep my tampons safe until then.



I have oodles of stories from the debauchery of the bachelorette party, but they must wait. I need my friend to upload some pictures that are integral to the story telling; she is a little slow with computers but promised they'd be up by the end of the week. I only have a few because I accidentally left my camera in the limo before we went into the bar/club after dinner where most of the action took place. I will leave you with this nibble: one story involves a one-hit wonder singer from the 80s and my ass.

Stay tuned! :)

15 more things

26. I changed my tampon on a tour bus to a pretty famous band (yes, this may have happened last night and yes, it will be in the weekend round-up post to come on Monday).
27. Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday.
28. I love working, even though I may not like parts of my job.
29. I'm not a touchy feely person. I like my personal space.
30. I have a rare neurological disease called syringomyelia. It causes cysts to form in the spinal cord, which can cause some major issues - weakness, paralysis, numbness. Luckily, I only have one small cyst in my neck region and so far, no symptoms. I hope it stays that way.
31. They found the spinal cord cyst on an MRI after I got into my 6th car accident.
32. Four of the six car accidents I have been in I was rear-ended while stopped.
33. I once ate dinner at a table next to Bon Jovi. He lives in the same area.
34. I hate people who drive in the left lane going slow. It makes a vein in my forehead pop out.
35. I make kick-ass chili.
36. I will never drive a minivan.
37. I'm hypermobile. This means I can pop some joints out and rotate them in weird ways. It's like a party trick.
38. I love Galaga and if I get on a kick, can play it for hours.
39. I have a pink Nintendo DS.
40. My favorite perfume is Ralph.

Haiku Friday

Is it Friday now?
These days went by so slowly
Weekend will fly by

Spoon Concert Tonight
Then bachelorette party
Got hangover cures?

So humid outside
Frizz abounds on my poor head
Why bother brushing?

Will miss my baby
But need these nights out with friends
To help keep me sane

More Sesame Street?
Elmo intoxication
I might overdose

Utterings from a boy

As I mentioned, I had my nephew Colin with me the past couple of days while my sister had her surgery. I am not used to having a boy around the house, and though we take him for occasional days on the weekend, we've never had him overnight. Here's a quick run-down of my day with him.

During bathtime, both kids dumped in the tub together: "Charlotte keeps grabbing my penis."

When I explained that she was just a baby and didn't know better because she doesn't have one: "Well, she should get one of her own then and stop grabbing mine."

After pooping for the third time: "Annie, I'm DOOOOOOOOOOOOONE. Wipe my butt."

After me asking him when he was going to learn to wipe his own butt: "Mommy and Grandma said that I am not allowed to do it anymore after the last time they had to clean the WHOLE bathroom."

When told he has to stop playing video games: "But, why, Uncle Mike plays them a lot. I just want to play for a hundred more times."

Trying to go to sleep after watching Night at the Museum, staring at a tribal mask on the wall we got in Hawaii: "Does that mask come to life at night? Cause if it does, I'm gonna kick it."

After telling him we couldn't go to the park because Charlotte was upstairs taking a nap: "But we can just leave her here with some milk in her crib. She'll be fine."

When my father arrived to pick him up: "Annie and Michel let me stay up and watch movies real late and sleep in their bed and gave me hot dogs and cookies!"

Sell out.

Wordless Wednesday (well almost)

Amy is through surgery fine. They removed the entire mass and will know by Wednesday the results of the biopsy; this will be the deciding factor in whether or not the ride side has to be removed or not.

Things I've learned today and it's only 10:53 am

• You can be woken from a dream about Agent Sealy Booth to the sound of a 17-month old squealing "ELMOOOO, Momma, weeee" despite your intense desire to continue your wanton ways.
• You can love your child with intense emotion you never though possible, and still want to walk out of the Target leaving her in the toothbrush aisle where she had her last public tanrum.
• You will go to Target to buy new toothbrushes in the first place because your child took BOTH yours and your husbands and was stirring soup in the potty, even though you thought about sticking them in mouthwash to disinfect them because you knew she would have a tantrum in public.
  
• You can say "do nice" and "gentle" about 50 million times to your child, but in toddlerese, it translates to: "Pick up the tiny kitten by the neck and carry him around asphyxiating him. Then, when you're done with that, poke him in the eye and pull his tail. He also really likes when you try and stuff him in your shoe."
• There are days when you truly enjoy spending time with your toddler and other days you watch the clock until naptime.
• Pretzel rods, wispride spreadable port wine cheddar cheese lite, and pumpkin spice coffee for breakfast does not sit well in your tummy.
  
• While you are in the bathroom dealing with your dumbass breakfast choice, your child will climb into the kitchen table, and drink an entire cup of soda left over from last night's dinner.
• You hope that the amount of caffeine in diet cherry Pepsi is not enough to keep up your child past naptime, because you fear you may throw yourself in front of the garbage truck you hear coming if only to escape the whining for 5 seconds.
• You will change your shirt, on average, three times before leaving the house. Peanut butter and jelly are likely culprits. On the third attempt at a clean shirt, you say "fuck it" and throw a sweatshirt on over said peanut buttery-shirt.
• Despite starting a blog entry at 10:53 am, you will not finish until close to noon, and when you finally sit down in the quiet, baby asleep in her crib, you forgot what you intended to do with this "free time."

*Note: My sister is having surgery tomorrow. Go send her some love. She is only 22 and was diagnosed with Hurthle Cell carcinoma in her thyroid. It is an infantile cancer and appears to be contained to the left side. Hopefully, they remove it, the right side takes over function, and we're good to go. My mother also had thyroid cancer and had her left side removed right before I had Charlotte. She is totally healthy now, but with both female family members with thyroid cancer and my grandmother being a colon, skin, and breast cancer survivor, I asked my doctor for an ultrasound of my thyroid and all is normal. My sister is scared, but this surgery is routine for these doctors and I know she'll be fine. I'm taking my nephew for a sleep over tonight so my mom can be with Amy tomorrow. Hopefully, she will be up and about in no time, and dancing her ass off at our friend's wedding in three weeks.

More things

11. I can recite almost every line to Dumb and Dumber and BioDome.
12. My father was born and raised in Germany.
13. The only phrase I can say in German involves a hammer and your ass.
14. Mike broke my wrist a few years ago. We were wrestling. Honest.
15. I once made fun of a girl in grammar school for having a birthmark on her face and I still feel bad about it.
16. I hate ironing.
17. I love cleaning when no one is home and I can put the music on and zone out.
18. I always have my nails done and get pedicures every three weeks.
19. I own over 50 pair of shoes.
20. I thought I'd have four or five kids until I had one.
21. I tend to get excited about new ideas and plans and rush into things. I'm trying to slow down.
22. I have an obsession with lip glosses.
23. I had a goth period where I dyed my hair all sorts of colors and put safety pins in all my jeans.
24. I was in a roll over car accident once.
25. I miss my Jeep Wrangler so much it hurts sometimes (anyone who has had one can relate - I'm not crazy), but we all know it is not safe for kids. Sigh.

Only 75 more to go.... am I boring you yet?

Fall is here! Fall is here!

It's officially fall!! The weather is cool, mid-60s, and crisp. When you take a deep breath outside, you can feel the chill feel your lungs. At night, you snuggle to stay warm, forgetting how cold it is until you throw off the covers in the morning to the sounds of your baby singing "La, La, La....ELMO!" The hardwood freezes instantly to your feet and you choose to leave your baby in her feetie pajamas all morning long, because you imagine that if you were her, you'd never want to take them off.

We went pumpkin picking, burned my pumpkin/nectarine oil, decorated for Halloween, played with nerf rockets outside (two of which are still in the tree out front, RIP rockets), made homemade French onion soup, and baked my famous healthy pumpkin pies!!! Woot!!

Here's a few pics from our adventure to the farm yesterday

Why am I in a giant strawberry carton on wheels?

My nephew Colin (looks more like me than my own kid, doesn't he?)

If only the world could work together like this.

A sea of pumpkins...

I also attempted going to the mall today to pick up some outfits for this weekend. What is this weekend that I need new outfits you ask? Well, it's only the first weekend since squirting out a child 17 months ago that I'm going out BOTH nights.. with my GIRLFRIENDS and not coming home! Woot! Don't get me wrong. I love my husband and my daughter, but before we decide to have more children, I need this weekend. Friday, I will be going into Philly with my friend Wendi to see Spoon. And Saturday is Lauren's bachelorette party. Yay limos! Yay friends! Yay booze! Yay booze in limos with friends! Oh, and I hear there may be a mechanical bull. Oh, there will be pictures. Maybe even video.

While I'm excited for both of these evenings, I sifted through my closet almost in tears, because how sad is it that I have clothes for work, clothes for home (aka yoga pants and Mike's old t-shirts), and clothes for casually going out - to dinner or the movies, etc., but I have no FUN clothes - nothing good for a concert/night in the city or for a bachelorette party? (Did I mention there might be a mechanical bull? The excitement is tingling!!)

S0, after a morning of a whiny teething toddler pulling on my pant leg, I put her down for a nap. Instead of her normal three-hour siesta, she woke up crying after an hour or so, which is very unlike her. Normally, she wakes up, talks to her stuffed animals "hi, bunneeeeeeeee, elmo, MWAH!" But, she was sad, crying "uh-oh, uh-oh" so I went to her. Tried to lay with her in my bed, but instead she poked my face, "eyesh, nose, teek." So we got up. With the extra time, I figured I'd go to the mall, meet up with Wendi and get some shirts for this weekend.

Little I did I know I left my cute-just-waking-up toddler at home, and instead brought venom-spewing-give-me-cookie-now-you-bitch-of-a-mother toddler. Even with my friend Wendi's awesome help, Charlotte still managed to throw 67 tantrums, throw an entire bag of pretzels on the floor, and scream for 2 of the 3 hours I was out of the house.

Despite the melee, I managed to get some work clothes at NY&Co, a few "going out" shirts, and rabies.

Haiku Friday

I decided to get into the spirit of things and join the Haiku Friday - Jennifer aka Binky Bitch's are always so witty and funny, I figured I'd try. So, here goes. Click the button to link back to the original to get the code to try this yourself.

Coffee and V8
The breakfast of Champions
No time for oatmeal

Teething or a cold
Not sure which it is this time
I hope it's done soon

New kitty is weird
He likes to sleep upside down
and eat alfredo

Fall is in the air
It is BOGO at Payless
Momma needs new boots

Days go by so quick
Seventeen months on Thursday
Slow down Charlotte, please.

Sometimes there are no words

This is what happens when you leave your child to her own devices for 2 minutes while unloading the dishwasher. (Note the kitty in the background; he is ever-present) Oh, and I had taken her shirt off because she got "fwuffies" on it; the rest, including my sneaker, the mardi gras beads, and her "at" are all her.



Anyone want to take a shot at a photo caption?

I thought you guys were my friends (and 10 things)

Ok, so no one told me I had a typo (onery instead of ornery) in my post on Tuesday! IN THE TITLE!!! I'm an Editor, people - that is a mark of shame! I might as well just tape a red A on my chest.

Well, I fixed it and it's fine anyway.

I'm just sitting around waiting for my incredibly slow work remote access to log me in, so I decided to start my list of 100 things. Catwoman, one of my favorite bloggers, did this awhile back and I vowed to start my own list. But, let's face it people, hers was interesting. Like I actually read it. Each damn one. And was like "Oh, that's so cool. I wish I did that" or "Really? I'm jealous." And then the task was daunting. Are there 100 things about me that I could think of, let alone that are even remotely interesting? That any human being not in a homemade space suit watching Battlestar Gallactica and eating ho-hos could relate to?

So, I'm just gonna start with ten. And then as they come to me, I'll add more. But I haven't finished my morning coffee, so ten is pushing it this morning.

1. I have to sleep with the comforter between my legs. My knees cannot touch.
2. In my heyday, I could chug a can of beer in 5 seconds.
3. I'm secretly glad I had a girl because the clothes are so damn cute.
4. I've had six surgeries in the last five years.
5. I prefer creamy salad dressings to vinaigrettes, even though the extra calories suck.
6. I love red wine, and prefer a Willamette Valley Pinot Noir over all else, and will not touch Merlot with a ten foot pole.
   
7. I am a hotel snob. I will not stay in a "motel" and prefer Hiltons and Wyndhams.
   
8. I went to Spain when I was 16 and haven't been back to Europe since.
9. I've never NOT had a pet, and in the course of my life, have probably had over 50 different cats, dogs, hamsters, bunnies, fish, and birds.
10. I hate birds as pets.

That's it for today. Feel free to take this challenge on yourself if you haven't already.

And how awesome is my job that I still haven't loaded into the system?

Wordless Wednesday

Mike, circa 1980



Charlotte, 2007

Ornery Ones

I know there are terrible twos, but what about this age between? Between infancy and true toddlerdom? Charlotte will be 17 months old on Thursday. She's walking, nay, running around so fast I can hardly keep up with her, and her vocabulary is amazing for her age. Please do not take this as a bragging post; I'm going somewhere with this.

She can string together two words already and has for the past month or so. "ByeBye Buggy" is my current favorite, in reference to this freaky shaking Halloween spider creature my mother brought over last week. It sits on a shelf in the kitchen and everytime she sees it, she pleads, "Bye bye buggy, BYEBYE!" She repeats almost everything you say (Note to self: must replace the F word with "turducken" more often) and counts to three. If I say "one," she says "two, free, tantu (thank you)". She knows the words to Itsy Bitsy Spider, and though can't enunciate them well, sings along the same. She also knows most of the characters on Sesame Street, and will stop on a dime anywhere in the house to the tune of "La, La, La, La, Elmo loves his goldfish, his crayon too! That's Elmo's world!" And shaked her little tushy to the song.

If she falls, she goes "uh-oh, boo boo, MWAH!" knowing I will come kiss her fingers or forehead, whichever she has banged this time. She knows all her foods and which ones she wants with "pip" (dip). These include, but are not limited to, pretzels, chicken nuggets, and tortilla chips. All must have coordinating pips.

She knows some colors - red and blue (ref and boo) and some shapes (tar and turtle)- star and circle. She knows when we put our shoes on, we go for a "wok ouside." She knows the street to her dayhome and when we turn, starts shrieking "Shell, Shell" because in a few minutes, she will dive into Ms. Michele's arms and give her a big hug. She is empathetic and knows when I am in a bad mood. Last week, after a particularly harrowing day, I laid my head in my hands, propped my elbows on my knees and mustered the energy not to cry. When I looked back up, Charlotte was handing me her bippy, trying to put it in my mouth. She knew I was sad and that I needed it more than her at that moment. These are the moments I live for.

So, now, let me ask you - why in the name of all that is good and sweet in the world is my 17-month-old having the terrible twos? There are some evenings that I surmise setting myself on fire and jumping into a pit of cacti might actually be less painful than listening to her whine, then throw herself on the floor, because I'm a mean mommy and won't let her play with a knife she pilfered from the dishwasher.

She has taken to going limp when I try to pick her up and put her in the car if she doesn't want to. She punches the ground and kicks and flails. If she's really mad, she may even bang her head on the hardwood floor, or try and bite my face.

You can reason with a two-year old; you can put them in "the naughty chair" for a minute or two and explain their behavior. Of course, they don't really get it, but what about a 17-month old? How do I deal with the horrid tantrums so early? When she tries to hit or bite, I grab her hand and say "no bite. it makes me sad" and sit her down. She usually cries for a minute or two and then I ask her "are you sorry?" to which she blankly stares at me and I give her a hug and tell her it's okay.

I'm okay with the terrible twos early - I just hope I don't have to deal with them now AND again in a year.

Happy Columbus Day, er, why?

Ever wonder why we celebrate a day based on a horrific man who stole land from native people, raped, pillaged, and destroyed a civilization? Eh, who cares, we have Starbucks, right?

Anyway, we don't celebrate it, but the government does, so Mike was off today. I took the day off as well, but the baby's dayhome was still open, and we have to pay even if we don't bring her, so we did what any family-oriented parents who love their child would do. Mike took her to dayhome while I stayed in bed, he came home and back to bed, and we slept till 10. Awe. Some. And then I got a mani/pedi while Mike cleaned our room. Now, before you call me a bad wife, I have to be out of the house while Mike dusts our room. I have serious allergies to dust and mold, and even though we deep clean our room at least every two weeks, the dust still flies around and I will be miserable if I did it. So I usually just vacate the premises. And what better to do during this time than make myself pretty? :)

To be fair, we used the day without the baby very wisely after the sleeping in. We did a lot of cleaning and mopping and vacuuming - stuff that is hard to do around her or while she's napping, because you DO NOT wake up Charlotte under any circumstance, up to and including nuclear war. Unless of course you want to lose an eye to a forked tongue laced with venom. Mike even got around to putting in the latch in the bathroom cabinet I've been bitching about because I asked him to do it 50 million times months ago asking him nicely to do for a few weeks. Of course, he needed supervision.

This cat follows us everywhere and cries like he's being torured if he can't find us. I have never met a more friendly kitten. When we got Cronus (with his brother Bacchus who ran away about a year ago), they hid under our couch or behind the furniture for like two weeks. I remember Mike being sad because he thought the cats would never love him. Not Leo. Within minutes of being in the house - a totally new environment to him - he was running around, playing, jumping on our laps, playing with Charlotte and my nephew Colin. And when we got home from dinner that night, he was sound asleep on my sister's lap.

Cronus is still not jubilant with glee over the invasion of his space by this loud, jumpy tiny creature, but he grows more tolerant everyday. This was taken last night, after only one day of Leo being home. Not bad.

Then, my mother-in-law came over this afternoon to play with the baby while Mike and I worked on the basement. When we moved in to this house, it had a partially finished basement. By partially, I mean it had a bathroom and a bed in the room that is now our office. We finished it. It was gorgeous. It was our adult room, untouched by Elmo and legos. Pergo flooring, recessed lighting, 67-in TV with a surround system that Mike hardwired into the walls. Asian motif with shoji screens, oriental area rug. Mike and his friends and father built it when I was too pregnant to be of much help other than being annoying supervising. With their own hands. They wired the electricity, put the walls and ceiling in, painted it, put the flooring in. Then on April 16th, we had a rainstorm which dropped 8 inches in 6 hours, and the basement - which a home inspector swore never flooded - flooded. We lost it all. Slowly, we are trying to rebuild it. We just finished pulling up most of the Pergo and the padding underneath. It will get there.

****

Charlotte is either finally cutting the bottom canines or was tired from our busy weekend, or both, because she was in rare form tonight. She didn't want noonuls (noodles), fwuffies (fluffernutter), kwakuhs (crackers), or her current favorite, a tuna sandwich. She didn't want anything until she saw me eating my dinner - organic creamy butternut squash soup with amaretti cookie crumbled on top. I let her have a taste and she stole my bowl. What other kid in the world won't eat chicken nuggets, grilled cheese, or peanut butter, but will eat hummus, onion dip, and butternut squash soup?

And, just for fun, some more gratuitous kitten pics:

How is it they can find the smallest chink of sun?

Um, you woke me up to stick a camera in my face? Be gone!

Healing

Thank you all so much for your kind words and thoughts these past few days. I have received teary phonecalls from relatives, cards in the mail - the compassion is overwhelming. No one questioned our grief over losing "just a dog" and people reached out to comfort us just as if we had lost a member of our family - which we had.

The wounds are still too raw for me to talk about this much more, so let's move on to my goofy ass kid. Along with shoes, her new obsession has become "ats" - more specifically, one of my nephew's old sailor type hats. She must wear it at all times if she can find it. Usually, we can hide it and "out of sight, out of mind" usually does this trick. But if she can see it, she must wear it in the morning at breakfast:

and at night after a bath:

I mean, who can draw with "maw-kahs" with clothes on or without a hat? I certainly can't.

Wordless Wednesday - A plum

Grief

We had to put our dog Pandora to sleep today. We are saddened beyond words.

Be back in a few days.