Archive for April, 2007

Makeover Monday

Monday’s are a hard day for me to post as I work all day, come home briefly, pick up the kids, and turn right back around. I then head back the 17 miles from where I just came for din­ner at the M’s house.

But I’m going to try.

Moods­win­ging­mommy is trying to ins­ti­tute Makeo­ver Mon­day, and I think it’s a good idea, so I’m going to play along.

Here is an abbre­via­ted ver­sion of her rules:

  1. Choose a goal, same as last week, or new this week.
  2. Each Mon­day, write about any pro­gress on last week’s goal, & any new goals you might have.
  3. Link your Makeo­ver Mon­day post to Moods­win­ging­mommy’s page, and mine.
  4. Visit other Makeo­ver Mon­day par­ti­ci­pants to encou­rage and congratulate.

So here I go.

I’m sup­pose to pick one, but I’m going to pick a three:

Per­so­nal Health:
–go the the gym 3–4 times this week (Wed-Sat)

Orga­ni­za­tion:
–orga­nize the space below our junk dra­wer in the kitchen and above the appliances

Finan­ces: (will be the har­dest for me to follow through with)
–recon­cile cre­dit card bills, allo­cate $ to dif­fe­rent bud­ge­ted categories

If I do each of these things I feel that I will have sig­ni­fi­cantly less anxiety and stress in my life. Just maybe I’ll get a decent night sleep this week, and begin to undo some of that ulcer that is cree­ping up in my sto­mach. :-)

Thanks for the idea Moods­win­ging­mommy. I’ll update next Monday.

If you are pla­ying too, send me your link and I’ll link you up. I’ll start with the ones already lin­ked to Moodswingingmommy.

1. Moods­win­ging­mommy
2. Shauna
3. Annie
4. Lene
5. Abso­lu­tely Bana­nas

Comments (3)

Smokin’ What?

We were outside washing cars today, when I hear my son repea­tedly saying, “Smo­kin’ dope. Smo­kin’ Dope”

SM: “Uh did you just say, Smo­king Dope?”

BC: “Yup.”

SM: “Where did you hear that from?”

BC: “Daddy.”

Ring, ring. “Hello, Hubby. Ya, do you know what your son just said?”

Yes, we have dis­cus­sed ‘dope” in our house, many times actually. No we don’t smoke it. Yes, Hubby and I went to Hum­boldt State Uni­ver­sity, but neither of us have ever smo­ked a joint. Hubby didn’t actually drink until he pro­po­sed to me… he claims.

So it looks like BC’s going to be that kid who corrupts the others on the playground.

Sorry Moms!

Comments

Whose House??

Run’s House! It’s true. What can I say? I’m a huge fan. I know what you are thin­king, “Uh, Smi­ling Mom, you are like, thirty. Get over it!”

True, I know. But I am gro­wing up. Really, I am. I’m no lon­ger watch Road Rules, only occa­sio­nally watch Real World, but still love Sweet Sixteen.

What’s there to dis­like? Entit­led bratty six­teen year olds, pis­sed at Daddy for not get­ting them the Mer­ce­des CLK they oh so desi­red. Daddy coughs up $250K to put on a birth­day bash to top the last six­teen year old’s Daddy’ party. Daugh­ter pouts throughout the whole party, but Daddy always comes through, get­ting her the $65K car in the end! Surprise!

But Run’s House. I can’t tell you how exci­ted I was today to see that MTV was having one of their Run’s House marathons. Five epi­so­des recor­ded. I’ve already watched two.

I’m a fan.

Whose house?? Run’s House!

Don’t bother. I’m rolling my eyes at myself right now.

Seriously, my son said WHAT???

Comments (3)

That Little Shit

Here’s the scene:

A friend’s son’s first birth­day party. It’s 100 degrees outside. Yes, in April, one hun­dred degrees. We arri­ved just 10 minu­tes before. BC had already befrien­ded a cou­ple girls in their early twen­ties and was asking them to play. eClaire was dres­sed ado­rably in her baby doll red and white flo­wer dress, coming just to her bot­tom with red briefs under­neath. She was stan­ding in the cor­ner of the back­yard, hol­ding onto the fence, sta­ring expres­sion­less at the lady trying to make nice to her.

Could that be eClarie’s ‘poop’ face I see? Couldn’t pos­sibly! eClaire already had a nice, mushy diarrhea just hours before. Damn molars. Na, she’s just being shy.

eClaire is fee­ling more com­for­ta­ble, walks toward the ren­ted cir­cu­lar table and says, “Hi,” to the lady who was pre­viously making nice to her.

Smi­ling Mom: “Ah, that’s nice. She rarely talks with peo­ple other than those she’s most com­for­ta­ble with.”

eClaire to me: “Up, peese” I love the man­ners on my 15 month old. Or maybe she just doesn’t know any dif­fe­rent at this point. :-)

I promptly lift her up to my lap. She’s clingy, and I feed into it. I just love having a daugh­ter who wants to be cudd­led by me.

She sits on my lap, and imme­dia­tely gets down.

I look down ‚at my lap, to my cute new shorts and my inex­pen­sive, yet sty­lish new tank top.

There is a puddle, Puddle of liquidy, chunky diarrhea laying on it.

Diarrhea num­ber two of three for the day just happened.

That little shit.

Comments (1)

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