Yesterday I took Payton and Alex to see Santa at Midtown. It was pretty cute. They both got little plush christmas mice from Santa (much cuter and less maintenance than actual mice- note to self). Anyways, Payton pretty much discarded hers when we got home. Lex, on the other hand, loves that little mousy. He likes to bite it, slobber on it- basically abuse it every way possible. Paytons mousy is pristine. Lex's is all matted, the whiskers are all askew, the Santa hat is all cock eyed. He looks like a mousy that hit the holiday egg nog too hard at the office Christmas party and then crashed in some flea bag motel with some cheap prostitute. It even smells faintly of vomit. He staggers into work the next day, trying to downplay things, smoothing out his whiskers and straightening out his Santa Hat. He's like "she wasn't actually a prostitute- really more of a dancer" But I love that mousy. When Lex is asleep at night I just look at it and laugh at how tired and worn looking it already is. I love it because he loves it, not because it looks hungover, although looking hungover does add to his charm. I think in the years to come I'm going to hang it on the Christmas Tree.
Lex is doing so good, getting so big. 5 months old today. We are looking forward to his first Christmas. I think he is, too, though it is hard to tell. Lately he has been falling himself to sleep- as we call it in our house when he falls asleep without any intervention on our behalf. You just put him to bed in his crib, and then he falls asleep. Just like that. We brace ourselves for it- that little whimper that eventually becomse a cry and then a whail. OK- I admit it, we have not gotten past the whimper phase. We do not know what happens after the whimper, but we think that it's probably a cry. But the whimper doesn't come. We cannot believe that this is working. We are cautiously optimistic that it will keep up.
Everything else is going well. I am happy to report that we are using the Celeb margerine and it is working out pretty good. It is good value for your money, and to be honest, I really can't tell the difference. The only thing is that I think it is slighty more watery when melted on popcorn, but I don't really eat the popcorn-the kernels get stuck in my teeth so it's not really worth it to me. So. That's that.
25 Days Til D-Day and things are looking good. Geoff doesn't balk at all at the idea of surgery and in fact is like "I can't wait for it"- I guess he really doesn't like the idea of twins. I think he is likely to go through with it.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Monday, December 1, 2008
A Conversation with Mother
I talked to my mother today. This is what we talked about:
1)Her up and coming dental appointment (extraction. Long overdue, believe me)
2)Possible gift ideas for Gage-- very difficult to buy for (looks like an Ipod could be in store for him).
3)Greyson looking cute at Mason's birthday Party
4)Making a Christmas Newsletter
5)Moms upcoming cookie exchange at the lake (she is to bring 9 tins of cookies to exchange. She is going with the Black Forest cookie- an instant classic)
6)My inadequacy as a mother- one of her favorite topic these days- or should I say rants? Rants would be more like it. The flavour du jour- not spending enough time with the children, not cleaning my floors properly and the fact that I don't know a darned thing about darning.
7)My failing writing career and how she saw on the Ellen show a girl who just wrote this book called "Twilight" and was an overnight success and gee, why couldn't I be more like that. Just write something more appealing and then I would get it right. Honestly. It is no wonder that I have been driven to criminal behavior. She just has to be so in your face.
8) Her ongoing struggle with feelings of sexual ambiguity, recent experimentation that she labels "bi curious", but not gay. She is debating about how much to tell my dad, especially in light of the recent events surrounding his "identity crisis"
All right, all right. So I guess number 6, 7 and 8 are kind of not really true, not in the literal sense, at least. But the rest of the conversation was just so bloody mundane. I had to do something to make it more interesting. They say "write about what you know"- but I have to assume that they didn't mean that literally. Because what I know is not exactly overly exciting stuff. Like- I mean- the price of Becel has really gone up- can you believe it?? Nine dollars for a tub. That's the kind of thing that makes news in my house. Boring. Trivial.
Although I am actually quite flabberghasted. Nine dollars?? When did that happen? I remember the days it was four something, and that seemed pricey. So now we are trying "Celeb"- I guess like a cheap knock off of Becel. I will let you know about that....Haven't tried it yet. I feel uneasy. Change doesn't sit well with me.
Anyways, that is all for now.
Thanks for reading.
Sorry mom.
1)Her up and coming dental appointment (extraction. Long overdue, believe me)
2)Possible gift ideas for Gage-- very difficult to buy for (looks like an Ipod could be in store for him).
3)Greyson looking cute at Mason's birthday Party
4)Making a Christmas Newsletter
5)Moms upcoming cookie exchange at the lake (she is to bring 9 tins of cookies to exchange. She is going with the Black Forest cookie- an instant classic)
6)My inadequacy as a mother- one of her favorite topic these days- or should I say rants? Rants would be more like it. The flavour du jour- not spending enough time with the children, not cleaning my floors properly and the fact that I don't know a darned thing about darning.
7)My failing writing career and how she saw on the Ellen show a girl who just wrote this book called "Twilight" and was an overnight success and gee, why couldn't I be more like that. Just write something more appealing and then I would get it right. Honestly. It is no wonder that I have been driven to criminal behavior. She just has to be so in your face.
8) Her ongoing struggle with feelings of sexual ambiguity, recent experimentation that she labels "bi curious", but not gay. She is debating about how much to tell my dad, especially in light of the recent events surrounding his "identity crisis"
All right, all right. So I guess number 6, 7 and 8 are kind of not really true, not in the literal sense, at least. But the rest of the conversation was just so bloody mundane. I had to do something to make it more interesting. They say "write about what you know"- but I have to assume that they didn't mean that literally. Because what I know is not exactly overly exciting stuff. Like- I mean- the price of Becel has really gone up- can you believe it?? Nine dollars for a tub. That's the kind of thing that makes news in my house. Boring. Trivial.
Although I am actually quite flabberghasted. Nine dollars?? When did that happen? I remember the days it was four something, and that seemed pricey. So now we are trying "Celeb"- I guess like a cheap knock off of Becel. I will let you know about that....Haven't tried it yet. I feel uneasy. Change doesn't sit well with me.
Anyways, that is all for now.
Thanks for reading.
Sorry mom.
Terminal Velocity
I have renamed the month of December "Terminal Velocity"
I remember once, at a job when things were starting to get crazy, a coworker of mine remarked "I feel like we've just reached terminal velocity and the pieces are starting to fall off." Well that's pretty much how I feel right now. When I was a kid Christmas was this glorious, magical time when everything was sparkly and sugary and sweet. And now it's just expensive and time consuming and maybe still sweet but even that is my enemy now in the grown up world. The hustle and bustle that was once so charming when I was a kid is now just irritating and annoying. This month will be a busy one for me: school concert on the 3rd, work kids christmas party on the 7th, Geoffs work adult party on the 8th, Gages birthday party on the 14th, kids dance christmas party on the 20th. And then of course, there's Christmas. It just seems like there's less and less time every year, and less and less money but a bigger and bigger list of things to do and people to buy for.
The most wonderful day of the year, indeed.
But, it will be OK. Deep down inside, I DO love christmas. Christmas is great- all that family and togetherness and peace and joy and harmony- of course that's what it's all about. That and the presents. Mostly the presents. But the other stuff is nice, too. Makes the presents nicer.
One year, a rather terrible incident happened while I was Christmas shopping. It is something that I don't normally talk about too much, because of it's illicit and illegal nature. I don't want to spend Christmas in The Slammer. Not this year nor the next. Brings a whole new meaning to "jingle bells." OK that makes no sense but I'm not really that great in the whole Christmas/Jailhouse metaphor thing, never really have been so you'll have to learn to deal. Anyways, what happened was I was doing some shopping, and Payton was then a baby and in her car seat. I paid for all of my items and left the store. When I went to put Paytons car seat into the van, and I realized with a heavy heart that a Teething Ring had fallen underneath the car seat. I did not see it there when I was ringing my stuff through, and apparently, neither did the cashier. So now, there I was, hot merchandise in my hands. Quickly I sped away, fearing that a security gaurd could be hot on my tail. You would think that you would get over something like that. But you don't. Every time I hear sirens I think they are coming for me. It is something that I will have to learn to live with. Shoplifting is no joke. At Wal Mart, they have a big sign that says that, and it also says that you could be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. I'm not sure what that is, exactly, but I'm thinking at least seven to eleven year. At least. Maybe with good behaviour a little less. But still, that haunts me. I have the gastric ulcers to prove it. It's why I smoke a pack a day. Troubled past. Running from the law, the fuzz, the 5-0.
And I guess, maybe, at the heart of it, that's why Christmas is not as fun as it once was. Once upon a Christmas bleary, I stole a teething ring along with a little piece of my innocence. And maybe that teething ring did soothe my babys gums, but I can't use it now to soothe my guilty conscience. Only Wild Turkey can do that.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
I remember once, at a job when things were starting to get crazy, a coworker of mine remarked "I feel like we've just reached terminal velocity and the pieces are starting to fall off." Well that's pretty much how I feel right now. When I was a kid Christmas was this glorious, magical time when everything was sparkly and sugary and sweet. And now it's just expensive and time consuming and maybe still sweet but even that is my enemy now in the grown up world. The hustle and bustle that was once so charming when I was a kid is now just irritating and annoying. This month will be a busy one for me: school concert on the 3rd, work kids christmas party on the 7th, Geoffs work adult party on the 8th, Gages birthday party on the 14th, kids dance christmas party on the 20th. And then of course, there's Christmas. It just seems like there's less and less time every year, and less and less money but a bigger and bigger list of things to do and people to buy for.
The most wonderful day of the year, indeed.
But, it will be OK. Deep down inside, I DO love christmas. Christmas is great- all that family and togetherness and peace and joy and harmony- of course that's what it's all about. That and the presents. Mostly the presents. But the other stuff is nice, too. Makes the presents nicer.
One year, a rather terrible incident happened while I was Christmas shopping. It is something that I don't normally talk about too much, because of it's illicit and illegal nature. I don't want to spend Christmas in The Slammer. Not this year nor the next. Brings a whole new meaning to "jingle bells." OK that makes no sense but I'm not really that great in the whole Christmas/Jailhouse metaphor thing, never really have been so you'll have to learn to deal. Anyways, what happened was I was doing some shopping, and Payton was then a baby and in her car seat. I paid for all of my items and left the store. When I went to put Paytons car seat into the van, and I realized with a heavy heart that a Teething Ring had fallen underneath the car seat. I did not see it there when I was ringing my stuff through, and apparently, neither did the cashier. So now, there I was, hot merchandise in my hands. Quickly I sped away, fearing that a security gaurd could be hot on my tail. You would think that you would get over something like that. But you don't. Every time I hear sirens I think they are coming for me. It is something that I will have to learn to live with. Shoplifting is no joke. At Wal Mart, they have a big sign that says that, and it also says that you could be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. I'm not sure what that is, exactly, but I'm thinking at least seven to eleven year. At least. Maybe with good behaviour a little less. But still, that haunts me. I have the gastric ulcers to prove it. It's why I smoke a pack a day. Troubled past. Running from the law, the fuzz, the 5-0.
And I guess, maybe, at the heart of it, that's why Christmas is not as fun as it once was. Once upon a Christmas bleary, I stole a teething ring along with a little piece of my innocence. And maybe that teething ring did soothe my babys gums, but I can't use it now to soothe my guilty conscience. Only Wild Turkey can do that.
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
D Day
A date has been set.
January 5th 2009
Take the poll... will Geoff get his surgery before it is too late???
Geoff will be getting 'the snipper snappy' as we call it, in the hopes that giving it a whimsical name will make it slightly more appealing, which seems to be working because my husband is taking the bait. So I guess my dream of having twins is out the window. I really didn't get much support for that idea in the first place, though, I have to say. People seem to think that it's a bad idea. They obviously didn't watch the Twins Marathon on TLC. I guess I, too, am coming around to thinking that it might be harder to actually have twins than it was just to see them on TV.
Anyways, I will let you know how Geoff makes out with the surgery- including before and after pictures. (Just kidding.) In the meantime, there is little worry about getting pregnant because Geoff and I have not been alone together in the same room since the day Lex was born. Generally, Lex sleeps with me and Geoff sleeps on the couch- as he gets a better sleep- doesn't like sleeping with the baby in the bed, and I get a better sleep,too- pretty crowded with three of us. So this is the way that it is. It's kind of an interesting thing. My parents were visiting and my dad seemed a bit disturbed by this notion. He offered the opinion that "lack of sex will ruin your marriage", to which I thought a)that is blatantly untrue as he and my mother have been married for thirty years and clearly do not themselves have sex and b)marriages are like children in a way- they can go coast along on Teletoon and Skittles for a long, long time. But then, it kind of got me to thinking about how our generation has such a different attitude towards it. It almost seems like the norm now is that parents eat, breathe and sleep with thier children. Most of the parents I talk to are in the same boat I am in. And the thing is that it is almost something that we take pride in. Once upon a time people would brag about their sex life, and todays generation almost boasts about thier lack thereof. Like it is good to be the self sacrificing parent who forgoes everything. I guess it's just a sign of the times- the parents that have thier children in dance, soccer, gymnastics, guitar, French, German and Portugese lessons. Although, you just never really know when you're gonna meet some Portugese hearthrob and then it will pay off. Our children consume us to the point that there is no 'us'- but for me, I am OK with that. I feel that our children are only our children for a short time, whereas we will be married (in theory) forever. There will be time for 'us' later... Although, I guess then there will be the grandchildren, which I fully intend to be VERY involved with. My son and daughter in laws will love me!!
On an unrelated matter, another thing that I have been thinking about a lot is what people mean when they say "get your shit together". Like this is supposed to be a good thing. "He's really got his shit together." WHY is that a good thing? It makes no sense. And it leaves a really disturbing mental image. I think people need to rethink this phrase. I don't know. It just bothers me. Anywyas, enough of that.
I've got to go and get my shit together.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Are We Done Yet Part 2
So yesterday I posted on here that I would never waver on not wanting another child.
That was yesterday.
Today I was watching this Twins marathon on A Baby Story- Cuz my own baby is stone cold asleep after being awake almost all day and half the night last night. And now I'm convinced that I really, really, really want a pair of twins. OMG they are so cute!! With thier little matching outfits and thier tiny tiny little fingers, and when you put them to sleep in a bassinette together they hold each others hands!! I am TOTALLY crazy jealous of these people who have these precious twins.
I ran the idea past Geoff and of course he's like "I don't think so Randine", ever the naysayser that he is. I can probably work him a bit, he usually will give in to me sooner or later. He did agree with me that twins are cute and it could be kind of fun, but then he was like "Remember when we brought Lex home from the hospital and you were so tired and only sleeping like half an hour a day cuz you were nursing around the clock- imagine that times two??" And I was like "Bring it, baby." Tired is such a subjective term. I mean, who's to say what's tired and what's not??
One of the reasons that I'm so happy to have 3 children is that- let's face it, Geoff and I are both mortal. We will not always be there to take care of our children. Its hard to say that or even think it, but it's sadly true. And it gives me peace of mind to know that when we are gone the children will have each other. We need our family- and I think that giving my children family is the biggest and best thing I can do for them- even if they don't exaclty appreciate it now.
I know how important my own family is for me. My brother and his wife have been there for me time and time again- for little things like babysitting and big things like when I have struggled with pregnancies and even my marriage.
I look at pictures of Lex at birth and even in four months he has changed so much. It gives me much joy to see that, but also a tug of sadness. My little baby, not so little anymore. He has already doubled his birth weight.
Truly, it is hard to know when to call it quits. My house is small but my heart is big. I love children. I love Christmas- seeing them open thier presents with such wonder and joy. I love bathing Lex. I love the chaos, the noise, I love the quiet moments- few and far between. I love reading bedtime stories. And though I say I want to see the day when there the warning "not intended for children under 3" bears no relevance to me, I simultaneously fear it. Who am I if not a mother, a nurturer,...
These are hard questions to answer. I can only hope that Geoff will get his "procedure" done before I have had the chance to ponder it too much.
That was yesterday.
Today I was watching this Twins marathon on A Baby Story- Cuz my own baby is stone cold asleep after being awake almost all day and half the night last night. And now I'm convinced that I really, really, really want a pair of twins. OMG they are so cute!! With thier little matching outfits and thier tiny tiny little fingers, and when you put them to sleep in a bassinette together they hold each others hands!! I am TOTALLY crazy jealous of these people who have these precious twins.
I ran the idea past Geoff and of course he's like "I don't think so Randine", ever the naysayser that he is. I can probably work him a bit, he usually will give in to me sooner or later. He did agree with me that twins are cute and it could be kind of fun, but then he was like "Remember when we brought Lex home from the hospital and you were so tired and only sleeping like half an hour a day cuz you were nursing around the clock- imagine that times two??" And I was like "Bring it, baby." Tired is such a subjective term. I mean, who's to say what's tired and what's not??
One of the reasons that I'm so happy to have 3 children is that- let's face it, Geoff and I are both mortal. We will not always be there to take care of our children. Its hard to say that or even think it, but it's sadly true. And it gives me peace of mind to know that when we are gone the children will have each other. We need our family- and I think that giving my children family is the biggest and best thing I can do for them- even if they don't exaclty appreciate it now.
I know how important my own family is for me. My brother and his wife have been there for me time and time again- for little things like babysitting and big things like when I have struggled with pregnancies and even my marriage.
I look at pictures of Lex at birth and even in four months he has changed so much. It gives me much joy to see that, but also a tug of sadness. My little baby, not so little anymore. He has already doubled his birth weight.
Truly, it is hard to know when to call it quits. My house is small but my heart is big. I love children. I love Christmas- seeing them open thier presents with such wonder and joy. I love bathing Lex. I love the chaos, the noise, I love the quiet moments- few and far between. I love reading bedtime stories. And though I say I want to see the day when there the warning "not intended for children under 3" bears no relevance to me, I simultaneously fear it. Who am I if not a mother, a nurturer,...
These are hard questions to answer. I can only hope that Geoff will get his "procedure" done before I have had the chance to ponder it too much.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Are we Done Yet
This is a question I get a lot these days. "Are you done yet?" The answer is yes. After seven pregnancies I am more than ready to hang up my pregnancy pants. I mean, if I don't do it now before you know it I'll be like that family on TV with seventeen kids that travels around in a big bus and wear polka dot dresses. Yes, the time has come to call it quits.
The fact that I'm end of the child bearing road is not something I will ever waver on, but having said that, it's not without some sadness that I arrive at this. I'll really miss those crazy pregnancy test. How much fun it was to have a shiny new one. And I will miss feeling fetal movement. Pregnancy is such a special time. Even labour- the drama, the excitement, the anticipation. It's not that I don't want to have another baby, per se. I would love to have more babies- who wouldn't?? They're cute, they have adorable little tiny clothes, they smell good (usually). But it's the fact that babies come at a price. A bedroom that is not fully mine- a crib beside the bed and doll clothes all over the floor. Treehouse on the TV all the time. Bubble gum tooth paste caked all over the bathroom sink. Going out for two hour intervals only. Ketchup chip crumbs in my bed. Laundry, laundry, laundry. Daycare bills. Fights over dishes. Banging on the bathroom door every time I go to the bathroom "mom, let me in!" It's a lot. Someday I would like to have a house that stays clean for more than five minutes, an uninteruppted bath, a full meal sitting down, a day to sleep in til ten o'clock. These are the things I dream of. Simple things, really, but not so simple with kids. Even right now, I am trying to type and holding Lex and I just got puked on.
Oh, well.
Now onto other issues. Firstly, I recieved another rejection letter the other day. It's frustrating. I will try again with another agent, but I'm now running out of agencies to try. I guess I will have to keep my day job after all, which technically I don't have one right now, but you know what I mean. Now I know why people in the writing industry are all moody and depressed and alcoholics. Honestly.
And speaking of depression, I think I may be. These commercials for anti depressants are like "do you feel like you don't want to get out of bed in the morning?" And it's like HELL YES. There has quite honestly NEVER been a day in my life where the alarm went off and I was like YES!! I get to get out of bed! And just jumped up and was all happy. Usually I am putting pillows over my head tyring to ignore the kids and/or the alarm clock in the futile hope that it will all just go away.
Thirdly.... there is not thirdly. That is it for now. I am moody and depressed and I'm pouring myself a glass of wine.
The fact that I'm end of the child bearing road is not something I will ever waver on, but having said that, it's not without some sadness that I arrive at this. I'll really miss those crazy pregnancy test. How much fun it was to have a shiny new one. And I will miss feeling fetal movement. Pregnancy is such a special time. Even labour- the drama, the excitement, the anticipation. It's not that I don't want to have another baby, per se. I would love to have more babies- who wouldn't?? They're cute, they have adorable little tiny clothes, they smell good (usually). But it's the fact that babies come at a price. A bedroom that is not fully mine- a crib beside the bed and doll clothes all over the floor. Treehouse on the TV all the time. Bubble gum tooth paste caked all over the bathroom sink. Going out for two hour intervals only. Ketchup chip crumbs in my bed. Laundry, laundry, laundry. Daycare bills. Fights over dishes. Banging on the bathroom door every time I go to the bathroom "mom, let me in!" It's a lot. Someday I would like to have a house that stays clean for more than five minutes, an uninteruppted bath, a full meal sitting down, a day to sleep in til ten o'clock. These are the things I dream of. Simple things, really, but not so simple with kids. Even right now, I am trying to type and holding Lex and I just got puked on.
Oh, well.
Now onto other issues. Firstly, I recieved another rejection letter the other day. It's frustrating. I will try again with another agent, but I'm now running out of agencies to try. I guess I will have to keep my day job after all, which technically I don't have one right now, but you know what I mean. Now I know why people in the writing industry are all moody and depressed and alcoholics. Honestly.
And speaking of depression, I think I may be. These commercials for anti depressants are like "do you feel like you don't want to get out of bed in the morning?" And it's like HELL YES. There has quite honestly NEVER been a day in my life where the alarm went off and I was like YES!! I get to get out of bed! And just jumped up and was all happy. Usually I am putting pillows over my head tyring to ignore the kids and/or the alarm clock in the futile hope that it will all just go away.
Thirdly.... there is not thirdly. That is it for now. I am moody and depressed and I'm pouring myself a glass of wine.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Highway Robbery
So now I see how these corporate big wig companies work. A few months ago, I wrote about my excitement about the purchase of Gain laundry soap for only five dollars. I have been happily using that laundry soap- very happily- ever since. And today I ran out so I went to get some more. And now, low and behold, they went and jacked the price up to $6.88! I flipped out, asked to speak to the manager. I wasn't going to pay an extra dollar and eighty eight cents when I know darned tootin well that they can and have sold it for a lot less. They must have thought that I just came in off the turnip truck, but they ain't gonna play me for no fool. But the manager, he was all like, blah blah blah, inflation, yada, yada, yada, speaking his crazy manager speak. So I offered him five dollars and fifty cents. I know that the product has a huge mark up on it, so 5.50 will cover the cost of it and we will both walk away happy. Doesn't work that way, or so he says. So I say 6 dollars, final offer. Then he calls securtiy. There was a pretty bad scene, lots of laundry soap all over the place. Long story short, I'm banned from Superstore/Loblaws/Extra Foods. That's how those criminals work, you know the type, real shady, wear bandanas, clocks around thier necks, sucking soothers, listening to rap music like MC Hammer with thier crazy ear plugs, the Bloods and the Crips. They get some kid to try a marijuana cigarette ("a dooby" as the kids call it), offer it for free. Then the kids gets all hopped up, addicted to it, then BAM they jack up the price and if you can't pay then they'll just as soon cut of your arm or take your eye, or both and you'll end up with a hook arm and a patch eye. That's what happened to the pirates. Well, anyways, apparently those dooby smoking rap listening petty thugs grew up to work for Superstore/Loblaws/Extra Foods and work their litttle scam with Gain Laundry Soap. Wasn't gonna work on me, and I dont' care if I end up with a patch for an eye or a hook for an arm.
All right, that's not entirely true. It's true up until the part about flipping out and talking to the manager. Basically, I went, noted the price difference, figured "what's a dollar?" put the laundry soap in my cart, paid for it and went home to enjoy my Apple Mango Tango Laundry Detergent. However, that does not a good story make, so I embellish a little here and there. That's basically the excitement around here.
Onto other issues (note the space, Lorrie), my husband, AKA the Devil, is supposed to be getting a little procedure, which we like to call "they snipply snapply' in the hopes that giving it a cute little nickname will make it more appealing. So far it hasn't really been working too good. He hasn't so much as phoned for an appointment. I am somewhat skeptical as to whether or not he will really go through with this procedure, vis a vis the fact that it took him over three years to go in for a blood pressure check. This ain't no blood pressure check, and he ain't gonna think it's a blood pressure check, unless HE just came in off the turnip truck, which I'm pretty sure he didn't because I haven't seen any turnip trucks around here. I don't even know exactly what turnips are- are they the same as Rutebegga?? If so then I like them. Well, that's besides the point. Anyhoo, I guess things will work out one way or the other eventually.
Lastly, I am thinking about changing my look. The librarian look has been working well- people tell me I don't look like a librarian, but these are the facts: this is my everyday outfit: gray slacks, black shirt (or white sometimes), black wool sweater, loafers, and an updo, Blistex for makeup. I don't really care if I look like a librarian, I mean it's not a bad thing. People like librarians. Its an honest living. And I do like books. But my SIL Lo has inspired me with her new look. She was trasformed from MILCW (mom I'd like to crochet with, for those not down with my made up lingo) to MILF overnight with this crazy sexy cool hair cut. So now I'm thinking about going for it. The only problem is that men will probably be falling ALL over me if I do it, and I'm telling you I really don't need that right now. I've already been preggers seven times, and believe me you you don't even want to mess with me and my uterus. Just say the word sex around me or I've done got pregnant again. But we'll see how it shakes out.
And I just want to say, that when I referred to Lorrie as a MILCW, that was not true, I said it more to be funny that anything. She has never looked anything less than fanfreakingtabulous.
All right, that's not entirely true. It's true up until the part about flipping out and talking to the manager. Basically, I went, noted the price difference, figured "what's a dollar?" put the laundry soap in my cart, paid for it and went home to enjoy my Apple Mango Tango Laundry Detergent. However, that does not a good story make, so I embellish a little here and there. That's basically the excitement around here.
Onto other issues (note the space, Lorrie), my husband, AKA the Devil, is supposed to be getting a little procedure, which we like to call "they snipply snapply' in the hopes that giving it a cute little nickname will make it more appealing. So far it hasn't really been working too good. He hasn't so much as phoned for an appointment. I am somewhat skeptical as to whether or not he will really go through with this procedure, vis a vis the fact that it took him over three years to go in for a blood pressure check. This ain't no blood pressure check, and he ain't gonna think it's a blood pressure check, unless HE just came in off the turnip truck, which I'm pretty sure he didn't because I haven't seen any turnip trucks around here. I don't even know exactly what turnips are- are they the same as Rutebegga?? If so then I like them. Well, that's besides the point. Anyhoo, I guess things will work out one way or the other eventually.
Lastly, I am thinking about changing my look. The librarian look has been working well- people tell me I don't look like a librarian, but these are the facts: this is my everyday outfit: gray slacks, black shirt (or white sometimes), black wool sweater, loafers, and an updo, Blistex for makeup. I don't really care if I look like a librarian, I mean it's not a bad thing. People like librarians. Its an honest living. And I do like books. But my SIL Lo has inspired me with her new look. She was trasformed from MILCW (mom I'd like to crochet with, for those not down with my made up lingo) to MILF overnight with this crazy sexy cool hair cut. So now I'm thinking about going for it. The only problem is that men will probably be falling ALL over me if I do it, and I'm telling you I really don't need that right now. I've already been preggers seven times, and believe me you you don't even want to mess with me and my uterus. Just say the word sex around me or I've done got pregnant again. But we'll see how it shakes out.
And I just want to say, that when I referred to Lorrie as a MILCW, that was not true, I said it more to be funny that anything. She has never looked anything less than fanfreakingtabulous.
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