So my sis MR and her family were here this weekend for the opening of their show Sock Puppet Show Girls. Hubs and I have never been able to see one of their many artistic ventures because we have always lived so far away, so I was really excited to actually be able to see their creative talents in person (vs. YouTube, which is where you can also find this). The show was totally awesome and stands as a cultural testament to the fact that you can never proclaim, "I am not a whore!" too many times.
Potty Hi-jinks
On Saturday, MR, her Hubs, her in-laws, and her super-adorable daughter Y came over to spend a few hours with us and our crazy brood before heading off on a nice 7 hou drive up to SF, where her in-laws reside. Y chose their visit as her very first time to go poo poo in the potty. Of course, this was greeted by much fan fare by the adults and a yummy chocolate reward. J observed the praise with interest but you should have seen how big her eyes got when she saw Y eating that chocolate. Her skin almost literally turned green with envy as she watched Y enjoy her treat.
J: Y'ena cho'cate?
Me: Yes, Y got chocolate because she went poo poo in the potty. Isn't she a big girl!
J: *hopefully* Me Cho'cate?
Me: No, no. You have to go poo poo in the potty to get chocolate like Y.
*I turn around a few seconds later to see J standing next to the potty with her pants halfway down her ankles.*
J: *firmly* Me go potty.
Me: Okay
.2 seconds later...
J: All done potty. Now cho'cate?
Me: But you didn't actually use the potty.
J: *insistently* Me go potty!
M: No, no. You have to go pee pee or poo poo in the potty to get the chocolate.
J: *sadly* No cho'cate.
Me: Sorry, kiddo.
Yo Crabba Crabba
Not nearly as fun as Biz Markie's beat of the day, J and A (and Hubs) all have major colds going on. A lets us know his distress by refusing to sleep and sneezing out huge, green snot bubbles thus forcing me to use the baby-snot-sucker-outer-bulb-of-extreme-discomfort. It must really suck not to know how to blow your own nose. J, on the other hand, turns into the most crabbiest, crankiest, bitchiest toddler on earth and refuses to do anything but cling to me and cry. What fun!
More 8-Year-Old Humor
C: Mom, can you spell 'I Cup'?
Me: Sure can.
C: Moooom, you're supposed to spell it. *starts to snicker*
Me: Hmmmm, the snickering seems kind of suspicious. Are you trying to trick me?
C: *giggling* Nooooo. Just spell 'I Cup'
Me: Well, why do I have to spell it? Can't you spell it?
C: Mooooom, you're ruining the joke.
Me: Ah hah, so it is a joke.
C: *shrieking* No! It's not a joke. I swear, Mom.
Me: Fine, fine. I-C-U-P
C: *flops over onto her stomach and pounds the bed with her fist in gales of laughter* Bwah hah hah hah!!
Me: Whee hoo, peeing sure is funny.
C: *through her tears of laughter* I know!
Random Pu
Best book title ever or what the Shatwrights should name their next album...also this came up just underneath said book on Amazon search. Is it just me or is it slightly disturbing to think that people who are interested in identifying different types of feces also want to know how to make sexual handicrafts?
Seriously, Oh My Fucking God! That is like a prize-winning watermelon. How do your nether-regions recover from something like that!!??
What the eff?!
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Monday, September 24, 2007
Support the Rabid
I heart you, The Office.
So our weekend was fairly uneventful. It actually rained here on Saturday, so C missed her weekly swimming lesson, and we had to cancel our outing to the park. Hubs B-Day was on Sunday, so we went out to a nice local bistro we've been to before for dinner. Then on Monday, I cooked him homemade lasagna and Mom's strawberry pie (his favorite!). Sunday was, of course, a football disaster, but we're slowly becoming immune to this sort of let down from the Bills. I think Hubs might die of joy if they actually win a game this year. Of course, we could be as confused as Chicago...
"Rex Grossman is our quarterback."
"Rex Grossman is our quarterback."
"Rex Grossman is our quarterback."
"Rex Grossman is our quarterback."
"Rex Grossman is our quarterback."
I mean...
"Brian Griese is our quarterback."
Well, maybe they'll actually start winning some games. It just sucks for Buffalo that our back-up is just as crappy as our starter. *sigh*
The Wisdom of Toddlers or How I Got Woken Up Sunday Morning
Sunday morning I am sleeping soundly in my big, warm, comfy bed when suddenly I sense a sinister presence hovering just above me. I sloowly crack open one eye and try to focus on the mischevious brown eyes and ominous mass of red curls looming just inches from my face. "Mama!" the small yet menacing beast shrieks joyously.
"Good morning, Billy Goat." I murmur sleepily.
"Biwy goat." she repeats happily and promptly smacks me in the face to indicate her pleasure.
"Ow! Don't hit mama. Hitting hurts." I tell her, rubbing my face.
Twenty pounds of red curls hurl themselves at me in a small but comforting bear hug. "Sowy, Mama." she says contritely, snuggling her head next to mine. Then, to express her deep remorse, she summarily heat butts me (as billy goats are known to do) and tries to stick her finger in my nose.
"Ouch," I say, removing her finger from its precarious position. "Don't pick mommy's nose."
J looks at me in great confusion. "Pick no' no hurt." she tells me, and proceeds to demonstrate by sticking her finger in her own nose with great gusto. "See. No hurt."
Can't argue with that!
Job Hunting Military Style
No, I'm not referring to the utilization of guerilla tactics (though it is a thought should it continue to take much longer). Searching for a job in my area of expertise is a unique experience. I suppose it doesn't really suffice it to say military style, when what I really mean is intelligence style. The intel world is its own beast with its own language. Since I've been in the community for 10+ years and have knowledge up the ass (too much knowledge as it turns out), I'm able to read these job descriptions and decipher them. Unfortunately, I'm either overqualified and/or it the job description reads like this:
JD: Must have working knowledge of ABC
Me: I have working knowledge of ABC
JD: Must have practical experience with ABFQ
Me: I have practical experience with ABFQ!
JD: Must understand intelligence systems like CROOZY BYTCH, FILCH, and FSTR
Me: Oooo, oooo, I've used CROOZY BYTCH, FILCH, and FSTR
JD: Must be an expert in QRL, BDQ and XYZZZFRTWRD
Me: I am an expert in QRL, BDQ and XYZZZFRTWRD!!!!!
JD: Must be willing to travel overseas* for extended periods of time
Me: Fock
*read: Iraq
Other Tidbits
If you are at a loss to explain my obsession with Top Model (and, rest assured, you are not the only one!), you must read this!
My new favorite song
So our weekend was fairly uneventful. It actually rained here on Saturday, so C missed her weekly swimming lesson, and we had to cancel our outing to the park. Hubs B-Day was on Sunday, so we went out to a nice local bistro we've been to before for dinner. Then on Monday, I cooked him homemade lasagna and Mom's strawberry pie (his favorite!). Sunday was, of course, a football disaster, but we're slowly becoming immune to this sort of let down from the Bills. I think Hubs might die of joy if they actually win a game this year. Of course, we could be as confused as Chicago...
"Rex Grossman is our quarterback."
"Rex Grossman is our quarterback."
"Rex Grossman is our quarterback."
"Rex Grossman is our quarterback."
"Rex Grossman is our quarterback."
I mean...
"Brian Griese is our quarterback."
Well, maybe they'll actually start winning some games. It just sucks for Buffalo that our back-up is just as crappy as our starter. *sigh*
The Wisdom of Toddlers or How I Got Woken Up Sunday Morning
Sunday morning I am sleeping soundly in my big, warm, comfy bed when suddenly I sense a sinister presence hovering just above me. I sloowly crack open one eye and try to focus on the mischevious brown eyes and ominous mass of red curls looming just inches from my face. "Mama!" the small yet menacing beast shrieks joyously.
"Good morning, Billy Goat." I murmur sleepily.
"Biwy goat." she repeats happily and promptly smacks me in the face to indicate her pleasure.
"Ow! Don't hit mama. Hitting hurts." I tell her, rubbing my face.
Twenty pounds of red curls hurl themselves at me in a small but comforting bear hug. "Sowy, Mama." she says contritely, snuggling her head next to mine. Then, to express her deep remorse, she summarily heat butts me (as billy goats are known to do) and tries to stick her finger in my nose.
"Ouch," I say, removing her finger from its precarious position. "Don't pick mommy's nose."
J looks at me in great confusion. "Pick no' no hurt." she tells me, and proceeds to demonstrate by sticking her finger in her own nose with great gusto. "See. No hurt."
Can't argue with that!
Job Hunting Military Style
No, I'm not referring to the utilization of guerilla tactics (though it is a thought should it continue to take much longer). Searching for a job in my area of expertise is a unique experience. I suppose it doesn't really suffice it to say military style, when what I really mean is intelligence style. The intel world is its own beast with its own language. Since I've been in the community for 10+ years and have knowledge up the ass (too much knowledge as it turns out), I'm able to read these job descriptions and decipher them. Unfortunately, I'm either overqualified and/or it the job description reads like this:
JD: Must have working knowledge of ABC
Me: I have working knowledge of ABC
JD: Must have practical experience with ABFQ
Me: I have practical experience with ABFQ!
JD: Must understand intelligence systems like CROOZY BYTCH, FILCH, and FSTR
Me: Oooo, oooo, I've used CROOZY BYTCH, FILCH, and FSTR
JD: Must be an expert in QRL, BDQ and XYZZZFRTWRD
Me: I am an expert in QRL, BDQ and XYZZZFRTWRD!!!!!
JD: Must be willing to travel overseas* for extended periods of time
Me: Fock
*read: Iraq
Other Tidbits
If you are at a loss to explain my obsession with Top Model (and, rest assured, you are not the only one!), you must read this!
My new favorite song
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Mr. Oxygen Bar Inventor
Surprisingly, I have been incredibly busy at work as of late. And, while I much prefer to be running around like a mad woman rather than sitting at my desk staring at some computer-based training module (which is what I do when work is slow), it also means I don't have much time to update my blog. (I know, I know, you're all devastated...all 5 of you ;)
I have been meaning to post my football pictures, but since the Bills have decided that this is the season to take over the dubious distinction of being the worst team in the NFL with this past weekend's humiliating loss to Pittsburgh, I have been too depressed to even look at them. Hubs was particularly morose considering our loss to Denver the week before came after a relatively decent game, which had given us some hope. While he is a diehard Billiever, I am more pragmatic when it comes to our beloved football team. Even so, the embaressment of having only one first down in the entire first half brought Hubs to all-time low. It took him nearly 12 full hours to turn to me and say, "We'll get it back next week. We always play New England tough, right?" To which I could only nod mutely. I did not have the heart to tell him that Bill Bela-cheat's Pats are most likely going to crush us. And it is only Week 2! *sigh*
Driving Home From Dance Class or Pu Makes You Feel Better About Your Commute
A: Waaaaaaaah!
J: Ales! C'ying! No, no c'y, Ales!
C: *singing very loudly and very off-key* Alex is a sad baby, a sad little baby. Why are you crying Alex?
J: *wags her finger at A* No, no c'y, Ales! No, no be sad baby!
C: Ooooooh, Alex is the saddest baby. Whyyyyyyyyy does he cry? Why does he cryyyyyyyyy?
Me: Be quiet!
A: Wahhhhhhhhh!
J: *at the top of her lungs* Cay-et, Ales! Mama say cay-et! Stop c'ying!!
C: *singing* Be quiet, Alex. Mommy says you need to be quiet now!
Me: I am talking to you! Now everybody, for the love of god, just shut it!
C & J pause for about .2 seconds
Me: Thank you
J: *shrieking* Mama not cay-et! Mama not cay-et!
C: Mooom, you talked!
Me: I am the mother here! You cannot tattle about me to me!
Ducks, Thugs, & Harmony
I must share with you the story of J and the Polliwog Park Ducks. C's swimming lessons are held at a public pool in a very large park in Manhattan Beach. I take J with me so that Hubs only has to handle one child while we are gone. The park also has a large duck pond with what appear to be to most tame and people-friendly ducks I have ever encountered. This week J and I brought some extra goldfish to feed the ducks, and I was astonished when we were suddenly surrounded by twenty or so menacingly hungry ducks. J thought this was just the coolest thing and was quite sad when we ran out of goldfish. So she tried fooling the ducks by making a throwing motion with her hand. One particularly fat duck, not being very clever but certainly brave, craned its neck to snatch the invisible food from her hand and succeeded only in snapping its beak onto her little finger. Luckily there was no skin breakage and J was only shocked a bit and not hurt at all. After making sure there were no serious boo boos, J was quite delighted with this turn of events and apparently wanted to continue offering her body as a duck snack because she was quite perturbed when I insisted it was time to leave the ominous gang of duck thugs to their own devices. "Duck eat finger!" she announced proudly.
Foodie Finds
If you enjoy Top Chef, check out Anthony Bourdain's blog
I am a Blossoming Bon Vivant
If you like Top Chef, you'll be thrilled to hear about The Next Iron Chef (I know I was), and one of my favorite foodie bloggers will be covering it!
Proving it is possible to gracefully turn tricks!
Other Tidbits of Amusement for Your Otherwise Drab and Colorless Workday
I've moved from tv commercials to radio ads
Mindless Crap
Because I also blog with a wide stance...albeit mine is due to bearing three children
I have been meaning to post my football pictures, but since the Bills have decided that this is the season to take over the dubious distinction of being the worst team in the NFL with this past weekend's humiliating loss to Pittsburgh, I have been too depressed to even look at them. Hubs was particularly morose considering our loss to Denver the week before came after a relatively decent game, which had given us some hope. While he is a diehard Billiever, I am more pragmatic when it comes to our beloved football team. Even so, the embaressment of having only one first down in the entire first half brought Hubs to all-time low. It took him nearly 12 full hours to turn to me and say, "We'll get it back next week. We always play New England tough, right?" To which I could only nod mutely. I did not have the heart to tell him that Bill Bela-cheat's Pats are most likely going to crush us. And it is only Week 2! *sigh*
Driving Home From Dance Class or Pu Makes You Feel Better About Your Commute
A: Waaaaaaaah!
J: Ales! C'ying! No, no c'y, Ales!
C: *singing very loudly and very off-key* Alex is a sad baby, a sad little baby. Why are you crying Alex?
J: *wags her finger at A* No, no c'y, Ales! No, no be sad baby!
C: Ooooooh, Alex is the saddest baby. Whyyyyyyyyy does he cry? Why does he cryyyyyyyyy?
Me: Be quiet!
A: Wahhhhhhhhh!
J: *at the top of her lungs* Cay-et, Ales! Mama say cay-et! Stop c'ying!!
C: *singing* Be quiet, Alex. Mommy says you need to be quiet now!
Me: I am talking to you! Now everybody, for the love of god, just shut it!
C & J pause for about .2 seconds
Me: Thank you
J: *shrieking* Mama not cay-et! Mama not cay-et!
C: Mooom, you talked!
Me: I am the mother here! You cannot tattle about me to me!
Ducks, Thugs, & Harmony
I must share with you the story of J and the Polliwog Park Ducks. C's swimming lessons are held at a public pool in a very large park in Manhattan Beach. I take J with me so that Hubs only has to handle one child while we are gone. The park also has a large duck pond with what appear to be to most tame and people-friendly ducks I have ever encountered. This week J and I brought some extra goldfish to feed the ducks, and I was astonished when we were suddenly surrounded by twenty or so menacingly hungry ducks. J thought this was just the coolest thing and was quite sad when we ran out of goldfish. So she tried fooling the ducks by making a throwing motion with her hand. One particularly fat duck, not being very clever but certainly brave, craned its neck to snatch the invisible food from her hand and succeeded only in snapping its beak onto her little finger. Luckily there was no skin breakage and J was only shocked a bit and not hurt at all. After making sure there were no serious boo boos, J was quite delighted with this turn of events and apparently wanted to continue offering her body as a duck snack because she was quite perturbed when I insisted it was time to leave the ominous gang of duck thugs to their own devices. "Duck eat finger!" she announced proudly.
Foodie Finds
If you enjoy Top Chef, check out Anthony Bourdain's blog
I am a Blossoming Bon Vivant
If you like Top Chef, you'll be thrilled to hear about The Next Iron Chef (I know I was), and one of my favorite foodie bloggers will be covering it!
Proving it is possible to gracefully turn tricks!
Other Tidbits of Amusement for Your Otherwise Drab and Colorless Workday
I've moved from tv commercials to radio ads
Mindless Crap
Because I also blog with a wide stance...albeit mine is due to bearing three children
Monday, September 10, 2007
Recent Pics
In light of recent football events, all you get is pictures...we are too depressed to write :(
Saturday, September 08, 2007
Thursday, September 06, 2007
So...Damn...Hot
Sorry I haven't had the chance to post for a while. Obviously things are a bit hectic now that I'm back at work and all, and, of course, with Hubs being gone last weekend. I swear that the cosmos are totally aware of Hubs' travel patterns and plan accordingly because I got absolutely zero sleep this last weekend. Between J being sick and puking one night, A pissing on my fabulous couch, and the fact that it..was...so...fucking...HOT...that I literally lay in bed in a pool of my own sweat and prayed for morning to come so I could just get a freaking shower! I know I shouldn't bitch, what with the generally gorgeous and perfect weather we have here, but I have lived in some seriously crappy weather places (Seattle rain, West Texas humidity, Misawa snow...) that I deserve good weather (*stomps feet and whines* I deseeeeerve it!) . Plus we don't have A/C, so we were all sweaty and cranky this weekend. Thank god the heatwave seems to have broken and we are getting our breeze back.
C started school today.* She was super excited but a little nervous. She keeps telling me how she's worried about how hard third grade is going to be *gack* (sorry, I just choked a little bit at the thought that I have somehow become old enough to be the mother of a third grader!!) We ran into her friend Hannah while walking to school (I came in late today), so I got some cute pics of them, which I'll upload here at some point. The little ones were pretty good. A decided to wait until the school bell rang to start screaming his poor, little head off. Of course, he didn't stop until we got home, so I'm sure the neighborhood enjoyed that! :)
Not So Cool Mom
C: That's crazy.
Me: Yeah, that's redunkulous**
C: Mo'ooom, redunkulous is not a word.
Me: Of course it's a word. If it wasn't a word how could I say it?
C: *sternly* Mom, redunkulous is not a word.
Me: It isn't?
C: *with a very serious face* No.
Me: Well, I like it.
C: *sighs heavily* Mom, you are so not cool.
*Please do not ask me why RB has kids start school on a Thursday. Who starts their week on a Thursday? Also, do not ask me why the summer camp run by the same city ends 2 weeks before school starts. Maybe they were as confused about the school start date as I was?
**My girl K is always using this expression, which I think is ginormously hilarious. For example, say your organization was planning to be a part of a huge, nation-wide exercise that usually takes upwards of a year or more to plan for. And, say your organization had worked hard on coming up with a scenario for said exercise only to be told by your HHQ (higher headquarters) that the exercise was now going to be led by a totally different and mucher higher HHQ (an HHHQ?) and that your organization was no longer invited to play, nyah, nyah, nyah. Well, first you would feel a little indignent and your feelings would be hurt because you are the evil, red-headed, aquisition step-child that no one wants to play with. Then you would get over it and realize that it saves you a whole heck of a lotta work. Then, several months later, HHQ sends you an e-mail asking for technical data for the scenario you weren't allowed to use because you weren't allowed to participate. And when you ask them what is going on they say, "Oh yeah, did we forget to tell you? We are going to let you play, but, just to get you up to speed, the final planning conference is next week and the exercise is going to kick off next month insetad of in four months. Sooo, we kind of need that incredibly difficult to produce technical data (that you told the engineers not to worry about) like...today." --- that, my friends, is redunkulous.
C started school today.* She was super excited but a little nervous. She keeps telling me how she's worried about how hard third grade is going to be *gack* (sorry, I just choked a little bit at the thought that I have somehow become old enough to be the mother of a third grader!!) We ran into her friend Hannah while walking to school (I came in late today), so I got some cute pics of them, which I'll upload here at some point. The little ones were pretty good. A decided to wait until the school bell rang to start screaming his poor, little head off. Of course, he didn't stop until we got home, so I'm sure the neighborhood enjoyed that! :)
Not So Cool Mom
C: That's crazy.
Me: Yeah, that's redunkulous**
C: Mo'ooom, redunkulous is not a word.
Me: Of course it's a word. If it wasn't a word how could I say it?
C: *sternly* Mom, redunkulous is not a word.
Me: It isn't?
C: *with a very serious face* No.
Me: Well, I like it.
C: *sighs heavily* Mom, you are so not cool.
*Please do not ask me why RB has kids start school on a Thursday. Who starts their week on a Thursday? Also, do not ask me why the summer camp run by the same city ends 2 weeks before school starts. Maybe they were as confused about the school start date as I was?
**My girl K is always using this expression, which I think is ginormously hilarious. For example, say your organization was planning to be a part of a huge, nation-wide exercise that usually takes upwards of a year or more to plan for. And, say your organization had worked hard on coming up with a scenario for said exercise only to be told by your HHQ (higher headquarters) that the exercise was now going to be led by a totally different and mucher higher HHQ (an HHHQ?) and that your organization was no longer invited to play, nyah, nyah, nyah. Well, first you would feel a little indignent and your feelings would be hurt because you are the evil, red-headed, aquisition step-child that no one wants to play with. Then you would get over it and realize that it saves you a whole heck of a lotta work. Then, several months later, HHQ sends you an e-mail asking for technical data for the scenario you weren't allowed to use because you weren't allowed to participate. And when you ask them what is going on they say, "Oh yeah, did we forget to tell you? We are going to let you play, but, just to get you up to speed, the final planning conference is next week and the exercise is going to kick off next month insetad of in four months. Sooo, we kind of need that incredibly difficult to produce technical data (that you told the engineers not to worry about) like...today." --- that, my friends, is redunkulous.
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