fun with play-doh

As a mom, I rock. I made (from scratch) this awesome play-doh for Lexie. But, the little booger is afraid of it! What the hell? How can you be afraid of play-doh.

Well, no need to fear. Mommy has found a way to have fun with the stuff:

do you have to go now?

We have decided to brave the potty-training front here at Casa de Austin. All participants are gung-ho at this point, but we'll see...

Actually, we've gotten as far as purchasing the potty seat and showing Lexie where it goes in the bathroom. She knows it's a potty, knows to sit on it sans pants, and even knows to wipe her (so cute) tush with TP and then wave bye-bye to it as we flush it down the toilet. The only factor missing? Why, the actual going potty. But I have faith we'll get there...eventually.

what was I thinking?

Will someone please tell me why I just wasted two horrific hours watching You Got Served?*








*I'll admit it, I was watching for the skanky Kevin Federline. I have some strange facination with him and his whore-bride Britney.

don't get too comfortable

I'm playing around with some new templates. The old one kinda gave me a headache. All those feet...{{shudder}}.

So, bear with me, I'm liable to change my mind. A lot. Any input is greatly appreciated.

Later.

a year in review

I got this off of LINDA. It is a look at the last year in review. The idea is to post the first sentence from the first post of each month and review how your last year went. So here I go...

January: Finally, the little bugger decided to cut her first tooth. And get this...It's her top tooth. Leave it to my child to be abnormal and cut her teeth backwards.

February: to let you all know. IT'S A GIRL. They are "almost 100%" sure.

March: If you've seen any weather reports recently on the "wonderful" state of California, then you know we have had rain, rain, and then some more rain. The last couple of days though, there has been this bright shining object in the sky. It's bright out and warm. I think it's the sun, but I haven't seen it since last summer so I am not too sure.

April: So I bought some Nair and let S have his ways with my bushes...er, I mean legs. I think he enjoyed it too much, I kept having to yell, "don't rub it in. You aren't supposed to rub it in!" And, damn if the crap worked.

May: Yes, folks. I am a grumpy pregnant woman. Watch out.

June: Omgod, I cannot, no really cannot, stand this shedevil any longer. She has pulled the last straw. I guess she's now angry with me and talking smack about me to anyone who will listen because I a) haven't returned her phone call (because like, duh, I just had a baby) and b) I haven't called her for help. And she knows I need help because, and I quote, "no one can raise two kids that young by themselves."

July: Yesterday was S's birthday. He is now 33 years old. Good Lord, I'm married to a mid-thirties man. I'm almost thirty! When did I get this old. I remember thinking 25 was almost dead (granted I was like 15 when I thought this). I don't feel old.

August: Well, here I am pounding away at my mother's computer, wondering if this was the right move. Of course I know it was, but S and I have been questioning our sanity for the last couple of days. All we can do is trust that all will be well.

September: I've never really thought about how my family appears to people outside our "circle." But, living with them with S, he has given me some new insight. We are a ditzy bunch. Not ditzy dumb, just ditzy.

October: Breastfeeding isn't going so well here in Casa de Austin. It hasn't for about 2 months now and I think my job is to blame. See, the first month I was a good mom and pumped when I got home from work so Emmie could have breast milk. Then, well then I just went all lazy and decided one bottle of formula wouldn't kill her.

November: I'm off for a few days. I'm heading over to Seattle with my parents, sisters, and kids to see Sir PAUL McCARTNEY in concert. That's right, I'm going to see a real live Beatle. I'm just so excited I could plotz.

December: You know what makes for a great Monday morning? No, not breakfast on bed. Nope, not hot love-making with your husband either. I'll tell you. It's waking up to find that your toilet has runneth over and now your bathroom and hallway are looking like a scene out of THE POSIEDON ADVENTURE. Luckily, there wasn't a Shelley Winters crying about not knowing how to swim.

don't mind the smell

well, my house smells just lovely. A dash of poo, some puke and an overlaying scent of Spot Shot. Heavenly.

The flu seems to have finally rid itself of us. My god, it was horrible. My poor husband, having to wade through dirty dishes, unclean clothes and having to listen to not only whining children, but a piss-poor patient...me!

I am the worst sick person ever. I whine. I cry. I throw things. It's not pretty. I can't help it, and besides it feels so much better to act like a giant baby. I figure I'm cheerful enough while I'm healthy. Let me be a bitch during illness.

Thankfully, this flu wasn't long lasting and the bitch fest only lasted two days. So, I'm back and feeling human.

Just in time to cram the rest of that shopping in...

just do this

As George Carlin once said, "Vuja De...the feeling that this has never happened before."

If you read this, if your eyes are passing over this right now, even if we don't *speak* often, please post a comment with a COMPLETELY MADE UP AND FICTIONAL MEMORY OF YOU AND ME. It can be anything you want--good or bad--BUT IT HAS TO BE FAKE. When you're finished, post this paragraph on your blog and be surprised (or mortified) about what people DON'T ACTUALLY remember about you. No excuses, OK?

Please participate...I stole this from someone, but am too lazy to link.

where's the beef?

I was just reading some of my archived posts. You know, I used to be kinda funny. What the hell happened? This blog sure went to shit, don't you think? Is my life that mundane that I can't possibly find anything of humor to write about?

Sure, the toilet re-creating a scene from Titanic made for a chuckle, but where's the heart in that post? Do I really think you all care about me having to wade down the hallway? Could this all be because I am menstruating and suffering from the worst cramps ever and ever, amen?

I've thought this over and realized that nope, my life hasn't been very funny lately. It's been, dare I say it, pretty much normal. What gives? I think it's me. I used to laugh at everything. Now, with little to no sleep and two screaming brats...er, I mean kids, there isn't much to laugh at. And it's making my writing crap.

I'm not saying I was ever that great of a writer. But, I got a point across, and I like to think that point was filled with a laugh or two.

I promise you, my loyal readers, I promise to insert some funny into this here little blog.

Starting tomorrow....

In the water I'm a very skinny lady.

You know what makes for a great Monday morning? No, not breakfast on bed. Nope, not hot love-making with your husband either. I'll tell you. It's waking up to find that your toilet has runneth over and now your bathroom and hallway are looking like a scene out of THE POSIEDON ADVENTURE. Luckily, there wasn't a Shelley Winters crying about not knowing how to swim.

So...yeah. Seems my little habit of not flushing the toilet during my many nocturnal bathroom visits is what caused the commode back flow. Whoops. Luckily, we are the proud owners of one much used shop-vac. Unfortunately, it's in my mother's garage. It should be arriving soon. Please, let it arrive soon.

So that's that. A fine howdoyoudo Monday. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to find some hip-boots.

new look

a couple of you have made comments on my new look. Thanks! And DOTTIE asked me how I did it.

Well, I have no idea how to explain what I did. I'm pretty much an idiot when it comes to all things computer-related. The design of the template was made by someone else, I just happened to find it and after much swearing, made it my own. The original background picture was a rose, but I figured out where in the template to put a picture link, so that's how the picture of S's hand and Emmie's foot got on there.

Anyway, I got a little carried away "cleaning house" and deleted that picture from my photobucket account. So, after much swearing and "hold your foot still, so I can snap a photo" I was able to upload the new picture (of Emmie's foot). I then figured out how to make it look like wallpaper instead of the single photo, after much swearing, of course.

Thanks for the compliments anyway, sorry I can't dazzle you with geek-speak.

yo quiero Navidad

first snow

it's the most wonderful time of the year

The Christmas season is upon us. Joy to the shopping experience! I'm pretty excited for Lexie this year. I think she's going to love all that "Santa" brings her. Emmie, I think, couldn't care less. Just give that baby something to drool on and she's happy.

Thanksgiving was nice. I ate too much as usual. We went out with my dad the night after the big turkey day and I ate too much again. And, I drank wine. Red, glorious, delicious wine. One glass had me feeling tipsy, so my dreams of drunken debauchery didn't come to pass. That's okay. The knowledge that I could drink as much as I wanted was enough for me.

All in all, it's shaping up to be a great holiday season.

thankful

I'm sitting here waiting for S to wake his lazy butt up. Doesn't he realize that today is the national "stuff yourself into a come with food" holiday? I've been up for hours, counting down until we can go over to my mom's. I plan on doing some major turkey grubbing this year.

This is the first Thanksgiving in three years that I get to enjoy. 2002 was a bust, I suffered my second miscarriage and had a D&C the day before. Not fun. 2003 I was pregnant with Lexie and suffering from horrid morning sickness, and it was all I could do not to gag at the sight of the turkey. 2004 was a repeat of that only this time I was knocked up with Emmie. So, this year I am neither a)pregnant, b)breastfeeding or c)on any type of horrible medication that causes severe stomach pain (this was in 2002), so I am totally pigging out and drinking me some liquor. Woohoo liquor (agh, I'm starting to sound like a frat-boy).

Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving everyone. May your stomach become extended, in that totally good way!

bad blogger, go to your room

I haven't been updating much lately. Not much to say, life is boring. Considering staging an accident just to liven the place up.

I've also been a bad blog reader. I'm sorry I haven't been leaving comments. But, I am still reading so that must count for something.

Well, that's all I wanted to say. Back to my regularly scheduled boredom.

have a giggle

to make sure my day starts out right, I make sure I get a healthy dose of THIS every morning. Just try and watch that without smiling.

There are places I remember

I was all set Monday to come on and post about my wonderful weekend in the great state of Washington, but Aunt Flow decided to drop by and wreak havoc on me and my uterus. Oh! The! Cramps! I swear on Tuesday I thought I was in labor again, that's how bad they were.

So, Paul was awesome. Of course. I have to admit here, because I can't to anyone I really know, that I cried a little during his first act. Which I think would have been okay if he had been singing Maybe I'm Amazed or Yesterday or something, not Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Heart Club, sheesh I'm such a 'tard. But really, there I was watching a Beatle sing. To me!!! I loved every freaking moment, even when he dragged Hey Jude on to eternity and back (with viewer participation even). For being 63 years old, he puts on such an awesome show. Makes me a little sad thinking about how anyone these days can put out an album. Paul's from the time in music history where a little thing called talent was a necessity for making it big.

I got to drive around my old hometown and see how much it's changed. Boy, has it! I walked through my high school and got lost, they've totally revamped the entire building. The only recognizable feature to me was the choir room, where I spent many, many hours. The piano is even the same. I ran into the hot PE teacher and he kinda recognized me. I was bummed to hear he's married (always that schoolgirl fantasy), though I think it bummed him out more to learn that I was too...not because of that! Because now he realizes that he is getting old. So am I, for that matter.

All of my old houses look the same. That's comforting to me somehow. Knowing they are still the same, though so much is changing around them makes me think of my life. I still feel the same, but so much has changed since I was that awkward, obnoxious teenager. Seeing all these old places made me proud of who I am. I no longer put so much stock in what others think (god, I was so bad at that in high school). I have always marched to my own beat, but now I do so proudly. As I think everyone should.

want to help?

If you look over to the right hand side of this here snazzy blog, you will see two new links under the header 'tis the season for giving.

The first is something I just became involved in through my church. They basically fill show boxes full of toys and goodies for children in need around the world!

The second is something I became involved with a few months ago. Basically, it is a pen-pal service for those serving over seas. It's an awesome feeling knowing that my letters are brightening one soldier's day.

So check them out, maybe you'll want to get involved too!

seattle bound

I'm off for a few days. I'm heading over to Seattle with my parents, sisters, and kids to see Sir PAUL McCARTNEY in concert. That's right, I'm going to see a real live Beatle. I'm just so excited I could plotz.

I'll be back Sunday night. Hopefully with a wonderful story about how Paul agreed to leave his peg-legged bitch of a BRIDE (I don't like her, can you tell?) and begged me to run away with him. I will have thought about it briefly, thinking that maybe with me as his muse he'll start writing some decent songs again (you know LINDA had to have inspired the shit out of him!), but alas will have to break his heart. I just can't give up eating meat, not even for a famous, vegan, ex-Beatle...sigh.

Ummmmmm

I was reading another woman's blog yesterday and THIS post really hit home.

See, I was never brilliant, but I'm pretty sure I could add 8+6 without having to count on my fingers. And I could have an entire conversation without using the words poop, spit-up or drool. I'm almost afraid to think about how blank my mind will be if I have more kids. I already get caught staring off into space, a glazed look about my face, with a hint of drool starting in the corner of my mouth. And that's what happens when S asks what's for dinner.

As you know, we've moved. It's pretty obvious since I don't know where anything is, who anyone is, and the sights and sounds are completely different. Yet, when asked for my phone number or address I start out strong...with the wrong information. Then there is an uncomfortable bit of time where I hem and haw, trying desperately to remember the new phone number. Then, if that uncomfortable silence drags on too long, I'm stuck wondering what the hell I was trying to remember in the first place. this makes for interesting and entertaining fun for the pizza place worker, I'm sure.

I now understand my mother's ditziness from my growing up. It wasn't her fault. It was mine! Well, I'm sure my three sisters share equal blame, but I am the first born so you know I'll take the brunt of it. What scares me is that now that we are all grown and (almost) moved out of her home, she is still the same. She has this incredible talent for tuning you out. I remember when grocery shopping with her, if I became separated from her and the cart, I would yell "mom!" and every woman in the store would turn and look at me. Every woman, that is, except my mother. She would claim to not have heard me, but I now know the truth. Her brain has forgotten what it's doing, because having children steals your brains. And that's a fact.


*You do not want to know how many words I spelled wrong in this post. I'll let you in on a secret though...most of them weren't the ones you would think.

**ETA: You didn't really think I would keep the spelling errors in, did you? Let's have a moment of silence while Christina rejoices in spellcheck!

My girls

Thanks to Heather for the website.

Click HERE for video of my girls.

christina's groove

Today is one of those days that just rocks. The kids are in great moods, I'm in a great mood. Hell, I think the dog is in a great mood (which I know because she didn't leave me any 'presents' in the hall this am). I'm loving me a Tuesday.

I knew I was in mommy/housewife mode when I looked at the clock and saw that it was 9. I woke up at 7:30 and in that hour and a half I: made the beds, picked up the laundry and toys thrown about the house, got dinner started in the good ole' crock pot, made 8 dozen peanut butter cookies, emptied and filled the dishwasher and cleaned both bathrooms. See, I told you I rocked.

Now yesterday was a different story. Classic Monday. It was about 1pm when I finally got dressed. That's also about the time I noticed that Lexie's hair was in her eyes. So, I threw it up into a messy half-pony. Hey, at least she could see! Emmie cried 23 of the 24 available hours in the day. She also spit up more than I fed her, I swear that's how it looked. While searching in the aforementioned laundry piles for a rag, the dog beat me to it and licked up most of the mess. Yuck. Mental note was made: no kisses from Kaya. Dinner was leftovers. Eat at your own risk.

It's amazing how different your days can go when you are a mom. I pretty much do the same thing everyday, but the major difference can be the moods in the house. If Emmie is crying that pretty much means I'm going to be frazzled. It also means Lexie is going to pick that day to learn how to pull her diapers off and fling poo all over her room. But, then Emmie will be smiling, Lexie will actually want to cuddle and I'll be in seventh heaven.

It may seem crazy, and it is, but I love every minute of it. Well, maybe not the minutes spent cleaning bodily waste and fluids up, but you know what I mean.

23rd post

I have been "tagged".

The instructions were given to me by Linda.

THE RULES
1. Go into your archive.
2. Find your 23rd post.
3. Find the fifth sentence (or closest to).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.
5. Tag five other people to do the same.

Okay, my 23rd post is titled: getting to know you, and the fifth sentence reads as, "Then my sister cam right after for 2 weeks, then his brother moved in."

hmmmm, takes me back to (was it just???) last year. Dip Shit was off and running, no longer in our house (thank god). I didn't even know that I was pregnant with Emmie yet. Wow. Now I can't even remember what life was like without her, or Lexie for that matter.

Okay, I'm now tagging:

1. Michelle
2. Heather
3. Dottie
4. Dawn
5. Melissa

christina needs...

I stole this idea from Beth, it looked like fun:

what you do is type in {your name here} needs (i.e. 'christina' needs) into the Google search engine and blog your top ten "needs"

So, christina needs...

1...to be thanked
2...a hand
3...to name-drop
4...to quit losing weight (oh I wish)
5...to consume 1725 calories per day to maintain her current weight
6...deeper drawers and some wall-mounted shelves (I think everyone really needs this)
7...to advance from good to great and become the bellwether district
in the state.
8...nearly 80 minutes to express herself (not really, just give me 5 minutes)
9...to own her whiteness and stop trying to be a rapper (I'd like to shout out to all my peeps for keepin' it real, yo)
10...needs to wear clothes ON TOP of her underwear (Is that how it goes?)

They must be lonely in Idaho

So everyday while driving to work, I am tailgated by some moron who in turn is being tailgated by another moron. I, meanwhile, never tailgate because tailgating is a sin and sin is what leads you straight to hell.

Anyway, the tailgaters.

Yeah, I'm guessing all this fresh air and nature stuff makes drivers lonely. So lonely that they want to be able to see your facial expressions in your rear view mirror. That and critique you on your radio station choice. Why else would they all ride so damn close to my (and everyone else's) back bumper.

Now, for some photographic evidence. This was taken while driving on the freeway, where the speed limit is 70 and I was doing 80. I hope you can see the car in my rear view mirror...look closely and you can see her tailgating buddy behind her in the white truck:


And, just for fun, some loverly nature shots. They don't have pretty things like this in California (not that I have seen, anyway):

ain't that the truth

I hope you can read Emmie's shirt here. If not it says, "if I'm not sleeping, nobody's sleeping."



Lexie never cried hard. She had this soft little whimper I could just pick up over the intercom at 2 in the morning. I loved it. She also never completely woke up, would just gulp her meal and drift back to the land of Nod.

Emmie, the complete opposite. Screams loud enough to wake the dead. And after gulping down her 8 ounce bottle (!), does she fall gently back to sleep? No, she gurgles and coos for about two hours, making damn sure the entire household is awake. Lovely.

So, we totally thought this t-shirt (a hand-me-down from Lexie, no less) was appropriate.

This isn't supposed to happen for another 20 years

S called me at work last night:

Me: Hello?
S: Hey!
Me: if you're calling to tell me what's happening on Survivor, you're too late. Linda beat you to it.
S: What? No...
Me: So...
S; What's today's date?
Me: (eye roll) The 6th, why?
S: And?
Me: And what? (I hate when he does this, which is all the time)
S: And what was Tuesday's date?
Me: Oh for crying out loud (so my grandma there)! It was the 4th, you called to ask me that?
S: No, no. Think about it.
Me: ...
S: ...
Me: ...um...OH MY GOD!
S: Happy Anniversary to you to Honey.

Yes, internet I, a red-blooded woman, have forgotten my wedding anniversary. S did too, but he gets bonus points for remembering before I did. I'm thinking frantically now about Tuesday. Was it special in any way? Let's see, S slept all day, fighting off the adverse reaction to the antibiotics for his finger (more on that later), I cleaned the house and chased after Lexie, oh and made a lovely meal of Tuna and Noodles.

So classy, so romantic.

It's been two wild and crazy years. S, I love you. Or I lub you, as so fondly giggled 4 years ago.

Nerd power

So, how much of a nerd am I if I confess that I love the new Backstreet Boys song, "Incomplete"? Yeah, I know.

Also, I totally love Kelly Clarkston, even though I swore I would never like anyone that came from the American Idol show. But, damn her songs are just so much fun to sing along to.

I also love old reruns of 'Golden Girls' and 'Home Improvement'. Sheesh, I am really embarassing myself here.

So, what things to you dig that make you a little "special"?



*oh and if you haven't, pop over and congratulate Michelle on making a beautiful baby.

I quit?

Breastfeeding isn't going so well here in Casa de Austin. It hasn't for about 2 months now and I think my job is to blame. See, the first month I was a good mom and pumped when I got home from work so Emmie could have breast milk. Then, well then I just went all lazy and decided one bottle of formula wouldn't kill her. So, no it didn't kill Emmie, but it seems to have killed my supply. Emmie is hungry all day long. I've been nursing her every two hours, yet she still screams and cries. Then, two nights ago, she started refusing the boob.

So, I'm at a dilemma here. Do I forge through this hell or just give in to the bottle and formula? Don't tell me how much "easier" breastfeeding is, because for me it's not. I'm a little to well-endowed and it makes nursing quite the chore. So many things to do; make sure I'm not suffocating the baby, make sure she stays latched, don't let go of the boob or nipple is ripped from the poor feeding baby's mouth...you get the picture.

The pros and cons are about even. I know that formula is more expensive and not as good as breast milk for my little Emmie, but those pale in comparison to my well-being and enjoyment of my baby. I'm still thinking about. You'll know in a few days.

what the?

what all the kids are getting this Christmas, you know so the TV can totally take over your job.

The late show

well, lower class was fun. I think we have now entered white trash level. Oh yeah, they shut off our phone. Granted it was a cell phone (I hate landlines), but that doesn't change the fact that we're now one step above those that live in trailers with extension cords running in their electricity.

Okay, I'm exaggerating a bit. See, when S went and purchased his phone, his Dipshit brother "bought" a phone too. What I didn't know then, but know now is that S put them both in his name. Yeah, I said those choice words you all are thinking, too.

Anyway, seems when one is homeless and addicted to drugs, one cannot pay one's cell phone bill. Leaving us to hold the bag. All $350.00 in charges. And that's for one month. I shut his phone off before he could order any more Shakira ring tones on our dime. But, too little too late. And since we didn't have that kind of extra cash lying around, they cut our communications off. Luckily, S just got a raise and we can pay the ghastly bill in full Friday.

I feel naked without a phone. And S is hating it, because I now have time to really think about how fucked up what he did was. I love the man and his generosity, but this blind faith in his washed up sibling is driving me batty! I mean, enough is enough. It's time to cut that umbilical line.

I'm so glad we made this move. It's easier for S to say no to Dipshit with 950 miles between the two of them. S is finally coming out of the dark and realizing he's been had. Finally.

what was I before this?

the house is quiet and mommy is happy. God, I love it when both girls go down for naps at the same time. It's like Christmas. I run around, barely containing the scream forming on my lips, not knowing what to do first. Should I wash the dishes from breakfast, should I do some laundry, should I make the bed? No, I'm going to veg in front of the computer and then I'm going to eat Oreos without a little person crawling up my leg yelling, "Gimme ookie! Gimme ookie!"

It's funny, just the other night I was reminiscing with S about the days before children (BC). But you know, for the life of me I couldn't remember what I did with all my time BC. I do know I slept more, but really? That's all I did? I can't imagine life without kids and don't want to. Sure, I do miss sleep (oh glorious sleep, when will I see you again?), but I've learned to adapt. I can now change clothes, diapers, make three meals a day and pay the bills all on about 5 hours sleep. And that's 5 interrupted hours of sleep. Damn, I rock.

*okay Lost fans, what do you think is up with the hatch? S is convinced it's part of a cloning experiment and that all the castaways are actually clones of themselves...hmmmm. Post your theory here.

well, at least someone in this family is organized

who knew? Emmie just needed some structure and routine to her days. Sheesh, talk about mommy-brain. How is it that I've completely forgotten all I learned while Lexie was a baby? Last year!

Today I actually had a happy baby on my hands. And S didn't get the usual meltdown from her after dinner. She slept through the night (7pm to 3am) and I'm willing to bet we have a repeat performance tonight. I feel like a freakin' genius here. Ha!

In other mundane news...I am so happy that the fall season has started. Lost and Survivor are rocking. These are the only two shows that both S and I like to watch. Nothing like couple-bonding over the boob tube. Gob bless America. Land of the lazy.

here from the trenches

Well, last night S let Emmie cry-it-out while I was at work. I came home to a frazzled husband and a peacefully sleeping Emmie. She was in her own bed ans everything!

Today I braved it out and put her in her crib for a real nap. That was 45 minutes ago and she's still sleeping. Plus, she didn't cry once. Hot damn, I think we're on to something here.

I thought this didn't happen the second time around

I guess what "they" say about your first child being the practice child were all wrong. I mean, I can kinda see the point of that. The first is where you learn what's right and what's a mistake. Leave it to me to buck the norm.

I've already messed up Emmie. Probably for life. See, we co-sleep with her. Granted it's only half the night, but I'm just too tired to fight her at 4am. Plus, we brilliant parents thought it would be great for them to share a room. Yeah, that's not working out so well. Seems like the screaming that wakes me up is also waking Lexie up. Not good.

Emmie has also gotten used to napping in her bouncy seat or the swing. She will not sleep in the crib. Damn the crib, she cries. So, the only crib time this kid is seeing is from 11pm to 4am. That's five hours people (yay, I can still do math!). Which means I'm only getting maybe 4 good hours of sleep. Seems I've let Emmie become a bed hog while I was also destroying my sleep pattern. Add a bed hogging husband and you have no room left for me.

I also rock her to sleep. This is something I never did with Lexie. My back wasn't in too good of shape back then (was it only last year, seems so long ago). But, the back has either healed itself, or I've become so sleep-deprived that I don't notice, so I rock and rock and rock. Oh and I rock some more. And this leads to. You guessed it, a baby who will not go to sleep on her own.

The kid's only 4 months old. There's still time to reverse the damage, right?

Hello world, it's me

I'm alive, and improved with cable internet. The move into our own place! went smoothly. S did all the heavy lifting, I did all the bossing around. Perfect. The cable guy that came out here yesterday looked so much like Adam Levine from Maroon 5 that I was practically drooling and having the most impure thoughts. Thank God I remembered I was married, because I'm sure he would have had me, what with all the drool and spitup covering my pajama shirt and the wild, unkept 'do I was sporting on my head. Oh yeah, infidelity was imminent, but again thank God I remembered S.

It's still so surreal to me that we are living in an apartment with the same square footage as the house we were renting in California. And for a fraction of the monthly cost. It's wonderful. I sleep so much better at night knowing we aren't getting screwed out of most of our money.

The kids are great. Emmie learned to roll over this week. Lexie learned to hit Emmie with toys. This makes for one banged up Emmie. Poor thing. I can't wait for the day to come where she defends herself. Lexie is in for a nasty surprise. I'm laying my money on Emmie now.

I've been asked t be the Matron-of-Honor at my sister's nuptials this spring. I'm pretty jazzed since that means I beat out her twin sister. Take that, twin-bond my ass. I kid, it's probably on because I live in the same state. So internet, tell me what being a Matron-of-Honor entail? I know I throw the bachelorette party, and hold the flowers and fix the train of the dress, but what else do I need to do?

Oh yes, and who could forget this happy news?

pause

well, finally got an apartment. I will be without internet for who knows how long. I know, I know, I died a little reading that too.

Hopefully I'll be back and actually posting to your blogs as well by the end of the week.

it's a beautiful day in the neighborhood

Lot's of stuff going on around here, let's see if I can catch you up. But first, a look into how strange my mind is...

I'm a wiper-of-kisses. I always have been, always will. It drives S crazy that I always wipe my mouth with the back of my hand after he kisses me. I told him it's not that I don't like kisses, it's just that I don't like the wet feeling on my lips or cheeks or wherever. So, yesterday morning S kisses me goodbye and yells for me NOT to wipe his kiss away. I lay there in bed, physically holding my hands back, aching to wipe the wet kiss away. What made it especially horrible was the fact that he had just brushed his teeth, so his lips were wet and cold. Yuck. He laughed at me, finding great amusement in the fact that I was going mad with the need to wipe my mouth. I swear to you, my lips were tingling. Not the good kind either. It was the acid-eating-through-flesh tingling. I know, you're laughing at me now. But internet, I swear to you that's what I felt. S finally left and I scrubbed my lips dry with the comforter. And that is a small glimpse into the mind of Christina.

Now, exciting news! My sister is getting married! Her boyfriend of a year asked the big question Monday night. But only after asking our step-dad permission. Isn't that the cutest thing you've ever heard? My other sister's husband did that same thing. Not S though. No, we were "living in sin" and I was already knocked up when we got married. My mother calls me the alternative child. If there is an alternative way of doing things, especially if it's against the norm, by golly I'm doing it. The only downside of this is the fact that I have to wear a bridesmaid dress again. Yuck.

Still no news on a home for us. The property management company is taking it's sweet time getting back to us about our credit check. The other company we were going to use lost us when they cashed our check and ran our application on a property that was already rented. Losers. But, this other company seems to know what they are doing and they have some great little places in our price range. Here's to luck!

it's a beautiful day

when another little one is born. Congratulations Toni.

We are family

I've never really thought about how my family appears to people outside our "circle." But, living with them with S, he has given me some new insight. We are a ditzy bunch. Not ditzy dumb, just ditzy. We repeat things over and over (and over). We fail to listen when others are talking to us (which kind of goes hand-in-hand with the repeating thing). The more of us in the room, the louder the volume. We watch bad reality TV and comment throughout the show, thereby frustrating others like S who are trying to listen. None of us are good with direction. We're what you call landmark drivers. You know the type. We'll tell you to turn at the Shell station as opposed to turning onto Main Street.

With all of these quirks comes a lot of love. Sure we tease each other to no end. I'm still getting crap from fall I took in front of everyone, quite embarrassing. But it's this love and affection that keep us close. I love every member of this crazy bunch and would do anything for any of them.

This all being said though...I am so sick of living here. I long for a place of my own, a place with my furniture and my decorative taste. If I have to look at one more country-style painted heart I will scream. Everything here is pink and blue. My mom is a nerd (I've inherited that), I love her, just not her style. We're still waiting for out credit check for the apartment we want. I wonder what is taking so freaking long. How thorough do they need to be? Sheesh.

So, I will stand it here a little longer and hope the word is good come Tuesday (stupid Monday holiday). Keep those fingers crossed.

aren't they sweet?

after many, many, many attempts we finally achieved a semi-nice picture of the two girls:



here is what the other 23 pictures looked like from that session:



and here:

Long time ago when we was fab

Here are some random photos of sweet, cute, little old me:

1982, I'm 4 in this picture. Can you see the damage from thumb-sucking on my teeth?


1986, I'm 8 1/2 here. All I remember was I fought my teacher to keep that sweater on only to have my mom yell at me for not taking it off.


1987, I'm 9 1/2 and looking geeky. In the photo, as well as the two above, I am wearing outfits my mother sewed for me. Unfortunately, I possess none of this talent.


1996, I'm 17 here. That's my youngest sister Katie there with me. We're on the Peter Pan ride at Disneyland, I think. I'm wearing a bright yellow Magical Mystery Tour shirt and a Piglet watch. This was the beginning of my still ongoing obsession with the Beatles. Yeah, I was so cool.


I'll have to dig up some super embarrassing junior high pics. I think my mom hid them so I wouldn't destroy them, smart lady that she is.

I'm a working (wo)man

Well, I got the job cleaning the daycare where my sister works. Sounds easy enough, just 15 hours a week, weekends off. I like that I'll be there by myself. That's three glorious hours all by my lonesome, just me and a mop. I love how the center is set up, very easy cleaning. Everything is plastic. I'm now considering going that route for my house.

Speaking of houses...still nothing on that front. I'm going to look at apartments today. I was so set against renting an apartment, but seeing how much cheaper they are to house rentals I think I can compromise. That way we can save, save, save for a house to OWN. I'm so sick of renting.

The kids are great. Emmie is growing like a weed. Still nursing like a champ. We hadn't given her a bottle in a few weeks, so last night I gave her one to make sure she would still take it. Lucky for me, actually S since he'll be feeding her while I work, she took it with much pleasure. She lives to eat, just like her big sister. She is also smiling and cooing and trying very hard to roll over.

Lexie is starting to pick up in her vocabulary. She says: please (pease), thanks ('anks), your welcome (welcome), the standard hi and bye, who's that (also used for what's that), down (meaning up), mom, daddy, grandpa (bapa), and Kaya (our dog) and Daisy (my mom's dog). There are a few others that I can't think of right now, but you get the picture. I think living here in a very busy, people filled home has helped her pick up the speech more. She also screams everything she says. There is no quiet setting on this girl. Just like her mama.

I've had a blast going through old photos of my family and me. I will scan a few and post them so you can see what a DORK I was (still am).

Oh and Linda, for some reason I can't post on your site. So, hey to you. I'm still reading you and all that. I'll figure out the problem here soon.

that would be a hell no

The house I really wanted; the one with the quaint kitchen, bearclaw bathtub, and the cellar straight out of a Stephen King book; yeah, this house is two doors down from a halfway house for sexual offenders. Seems Mrs. Spazzy Owner "forgot" to mention this little nugget of info when we were in the process of falling in love with her house. How does one "forget" something like this?

Seems that it doesn't bother her, what with the fact that she has no children and the men living there have never given her any troubles. Yeah, no troubles lady. Let's hear you say that when one of them breaks into your house late at night to "chat" with you. And by "chat" I mean tie you up and ravage you. Let's see you "forget" that they are two doors down then.

So, the search for living quarters continues...

pros and cons

Here I am, still living with the 'rents. It hasn't been that bad really. I just hate sharing a room with both kids. Lexie has started snoring, which would be cute if I was hearing it over an intercom and not in my right ear. S and my step-dad have bonded over basement remodeling and softball. The testosterone is flying here.

Some great points about living with my mom, step-dad and sisters:

• free babysitting,
• meaning I get long, leisurely showers.
• homecooked meals that I didn't have to prepare.
• free babysitting.
• trying to do the dishes and getting shoo'd away (is shoo'd a word?).
• free babysitting.
• reconnecting with my mom and sisters.
• free babysitting
• saving bunches of money by not having any bills to pay, other than cell phone and car payments.

But, as you know, with the good comes the bad:

• no privacy
• guilt over watching my mom clean up after all of us
• no privacy
• buying a bag of candy and not even getting one piece (thanks mom).
• no privacy
• the imagined pressure to find a place already. My mom and step-dad insist they aren't sick of us, but I don't want to push it.
• the fear that I'm cashing all my free babysitting chips in now, as opposed to when I might actually need them (Starbuck's runs are not really that necessary).

So, we have a few houses to look at tonight. Rent here is cheap and that's what we want. We have a goal of how much to save for a downpayment and I already have an area picked out for where I want to live. Downtown Coeur d'Alene is so quaint and charming, I just want to gobble the whole town up.

Oh, and I bit the bullet and applied at Starbucks. My sister's boss hasn't gotten back to me yet, and I need a job like yesterday. I'll let you all know how that goes.

but are they hiring?

It's weird, asking a place if they are hiring. I feel like an imposter. And I feel old. When did that happen? And would it be that very strange to have a boss that is young enough to be my kid, if I was having kids at 11 that is?

I'm looking for part-time work. Basically, some no-brainer job that brings in a little extra cash so we can save for a downpayment on a house. I'm thinking Starbucks or one of the many hotels in the Coeur d'Alene area. But walking into the Starbucks here, I realize how so uncool I really am. All the kids (emphasis on kids) working behind the counter are just so...you know. With it. They wear the latest fashions, listen to the newest music. And here I am, a mother to two small children, married, approaching my thirties at a frightening speed. Do I really think I can work with these young people? I feel like I did on the first day of high school, a time I would rather forget.

I hated high school, which I think most people did. I hated trying so hard to make sure everyone liked me. Hated worrying about the clothes I couldn't afford to buy and wondering if anyone would notice that I was wearing a knockoff pair of jeans. Really, why would I want to throw myself back into an atmosphere like that again. An atmosphere where this time I know I'm not cool, not wearing the right thing, not saying the right thing. Where every night the kids just roll their eyes and exclaim that I'm too old to understand (have I really gotten to that point already?).

Well, money is money and the really question is: how badly do I need it to subject myself to the kind of headtrip I'm already starting with myself? Not that bad. Which is why I'm applying for a job cleaning a daycare after hours. That way I don't have to deal with people and I get to do what I now do best. Clean up after little people.

still alive

Well, here I am pounding away at my mother's computer, wondering if this was the right move. Of course I know it was, but S and I have been questioning our sanity for the last couple of days. All we can do is trust that all will be well.

Fun things are happening here. Lexie learned how to climb out of her crib. It's toddler bed time. Yes, she climbs out of that too, but as long as the door is shut, she falls alseep kind of near her bed. Near as in on the basement floor and the other side of the room. Even though I placed many pillows near her crib, she chooses the floor. What a weird kid I have. She also learned that she loves the taste of dog food, and wilkl eat it at any chance she gets. Again, she is a weird, weird kid. She must be mine. Emmie is doing great, hasn't complained about moving once. Doesn't even seem to notice. I guess when all you do is sleep and eat, it doesn't matter where you do these things just so long as you can do them. Kaya (the wonder pup) is fairing well. My mother's dog, Daisy, took a bite out of her hindquarters. Don't fear, 'tis merely a flesh wound.

All in all we are doing great. I'm loving having trees to look at, instead of concrete BART tracks. It was so strange how quiet it is at night. S had to dig up a fan to turn on just so we had some background noise. I know, damn city slickers that we are can't handle a little peace ans quiet.

All my bags are packed...

Well, the internet gets shut off tomorrow morning. So, this is a goodbye-for-now post.

I hope to be back up and posting by Wednesday night. Well, maybe Thursday. I will need some rest after the grueling 20 hour drive. With two kids. Alone in the car with me. AGH!

Wish me luck!

t-minus 3 days and counting

AGH! Why is it that I have been packing for almost a month and I'm still nowhere near being done? And why does S keep scheduling 'fun' things for us to do in the last week we're here? He wants us all to go waterskiing tomorrow. Which really means, he skis while I chase after Lexie and Emmie. Fun for all!

So, I've been thinking (uh oh). I feel I'm pretty open here on this blog, and I'm pretty open in real life too. Is this a bad thing? S seems to think so, he says I give people way too much ammo to use against me later. I say it keeps me honest and let's me know who really likes me.

I bring this up because on a message board I belong to (you know who you are), I was sharing some of my recent past history involving arrests and drugs. S was reading over my shoulder and couldn't believe I was putting that all out on the internet! For everyone to read! I could hear the exclamation points in his voice! I figure, what better place to share the real you, the real things you have done than the internet. The internet is still relatively anonymous, and it's not like I'm telling things I wouldn't tell a real living human (you know, as opposed to the real dead humans).

These things I have lived through have shaped me into the person I am today. Some might say that is a good thing, since I'm so damn wonderful. Others might think the exact opposite. And to them I have two little words, and they aren't "I'm sorry."

So, how do you feel about sharing personal info on the web? I'm not talking bank info and social security numbers (God, I hope none of you share that stuff. But if you do, email me). I'm talking about embarrassing things, illegal things, stuff like that. I live in a world where I interact with people more online than anywhere else. Am I sharing too much? Not enough? Do you want me to just shut up already?

bad girl

okay blogging world, I know I've been a bad blogger lately. I'm sorry to all of you wonderful blogs that I read everyday, yet have failed to comment on in weeks. I try, but sometimes all I have time for is a quick read then it's back to packing. Packing and chasing Lexie around yelling, "no, Lexie. NO, Lexie. NO, LEXIE!"

It will only get worse here before it gets better. Looks like we'll be at mom's for at least 2-3 weeks and yes she has internet, but it's dial-up (AGH, NOOOOOO). After that we may not get internet service for a while to save some money, but I know the library there has free internet usage for poor folk like me. I will try to keep up on posting, but commenting I can't promise.

So, know that I am still out here stalking you...er, I mean reading. Just reading. No, I am not stalking you. Well, okay maybe a little. But, it's just because you are so much cooler than I am.

it's my bloggiversary

one year ago today, I posted the first post that got I woke Up For This... rolling. Will someone tell the 2004 model of Christina that the new (but not necessarily improved) 2005 model says hope you enjoyed that oh-so-boring motherhood while it lasted.

It's been a long and bumpy ride to today. A lot has happened and a lot has changed. Well, except for me being weird. That's a quality I'm never parting with, baby!

Here's to another year of blogging history.

*and yes, I do still sing "why is your butt so stinky?"

crazy

Well, we only have about a week left of living in good ol' California. God, I will so not miss this place.

I'm running around like a mad woman trying to get everything packed, organized and whatnot. All the stuff we didn't sell at the garage sale has to be sorted through for what can be donated and what can be tossed. S and I are fighting over the refrigerator. He wants to sell it (to who???) and I want to keep it. I mean, it's not like we're moving in with my parents up there, we're just crashing there until we find a (preferably) house to rent. My dryer crapped out so that takes care of one big item. We're leaving the washer too because it's one hundred years old and I have the sneaking suspicion that it's not cleaning my clothes the way it should.

I'm getting so excited. I feel like this is a chance for S and I to start fresh. California is a great place to live if you have a load of money. Or if you don't mind never being ahead. Think about this. Minimum wage here is $7.15, I know seems like a lot, right? Well, a single family home, built about sixty years ago in the town I'm living in now (which isn't a very nice town) has an asking price of $500,000.00. Yeah. Rent on a one bedroom apartment starts at about $900.00 a month. Now, tell me how anyone without a "career" can make it here. They can't, so says the lines at the welfare office.

I know it's going to be rough for us in the beginning. But, S loves to work hard and is also planning on finishing his schooling for his electricians license (something he couldn't afford to do here once Lexie was born), and I will have the help of my sisters and mother so if I wanted to work I could. Which I will probably do in a few months, just something part-time to help get our savings back.

Well, now you know a little more about my plans. Sorry for the yawn posts lately, but my mind is in a million different modes right now. So, consider yourselves lucky that I'm posting at all.

do you see what toddlers do to you?

Have I told you of my long-term childhaving plan? Do you want to know? Well, too bad 'cause it's part of what I want to tell you.

Our plan is to have Lexie and Emmie, then wait three years and try again. That is if my woman parts cooperate as nicely as they did with the conceiving of Emmie. Before Lexie was born, our plan was just to have one because we thought even one was a long shot. Then Emmie came to us so quickly and we started having wonderful fantasies about gaggles of children (and with gaggles? I mean four).

But then, Lexie became a toddler. A terrible toddler. You know what I'm talking about. The constant screaming, the biting, the hitting, the hair pulling...the list goes on and on. Did you know she bit her little baby sister last night? Bit her. On the toe. Yeah. So, while Emmie's screaming because well, her toe hurt and Lexie's screaming because who knows why, S turns to me and says, "that's it! We're so done having kids." You guys, my uterus died a little right then and there.

I can see where he's coming from....wait, no I can't. He thinks having two little ones is hard? Really. Who is home with them all...day...long? Who changes the 20 diapers a day? Who is up to her ears in laundry and dishes? Me, the mommy, that's who. And do I think I'm done? Hell no. I know it's hard now, but I also know it will get (somewhat) easier later. So, as lovingly as I could, I turned to S and told him to, "we'll be done having kids when I say we're done having kids!" Think he got my point?

I'm on empty

I've got nothing. My blog-well has run dry. Too many times I have run to the computer, with a half-formed post entry rambling about in my head, only to draw a complete blank once my fingers hit the keyboard. So, I'll just give you some highlights from my weekend.

Saturday we held a garage sale and made a whopping $30.00. Which was actually $30.00 more than I thought we would make. We also found a home for my guinea pig, Pippin. I was a little sad about that until I remembered what a pain in the ass is was to clean his cage and how expensive that bedding was (because I am a neurotic freak who had to use the ultra-absorbent, naturally processed, made-from-recycled-newpaper bedding). I also found a new home for my fish. Don't worry Kaya (the wonder-chihuahua) is staying with us.

****okay, I just had like two paragraphs about what I did yesterday and Lexie hit some button and made it all go away. Argh! To recap: I watched a sucky-ass movie and that was about it. Hmm, now that I think about it, Lex might have done me a favor. I mean really, two paragraphs about nothing?****

I'm tipsy and feeling long-winded

My good friend from high school, Jen (one 'n' and don't forget it), came over tonight and got me tipsy on some kind of alcohol concoction. And now I'm blogging. Fun times.

Is it bad that the first sip relaxed me in a way I haven't felt in a while? Jen and I analyzed this to death about an hour ago, trying to decide if that made me an alcoholic. I don't think so, I think it just means I've been wound tighter than a...than a...than something wound tight (whoa, my brain is really functioning on high right now, not). I worry about these things though because a) I'm a worrier and b) I'm a recovering addict.

Did you know that about me internet? Yes, I Christina, used to have a problem with substance aduse. But that's all for another post on another day. Anyway, the 12-step program I worked through beat it into my head that alcohol is a drug. I just don't see that. I mean, if I was chugging 6-packs every few hours, or if my every waking thought revolved around my next drink, than yes I could say it was a problem for me. But I'm not and I don't, so let's leave it at that.

Anywho, my reason for sitting down to blog has escaped me and now I think I'm rambling. I think I'll turn in for the night. S has agreed to Emmie duty since I had a major tear-filled breakdown this afternoon due to my lack of sleep. God bless my husband. Oh, and God bless my Avent Isis pump. I don't know where I'd be without either of you.

Oh, and Heather! thanks so much for getting me hooked on this damn website. I sat reading those postcards forever today, and now my eyes are crossing. That will teach me to go through someone's blog links.

great news

Get over to Linda's blog and congratulate her on her wonderful news.

I am so excited for you Linda. Congratulations my dear internet friend!

well sure, I forgive you (but I'll hate you forever)

I have a little problem with letting things go. Especially grudges. I love to secretly hate people. Well, S would say it's not really a secret when I bitch about them all the time, but what does he know? Certainly not the fact that I'm still mad at him for that thing he did in June of 2000.

How bad is my grudge-holding, you ask? Well, how's this for sick. I am still mad at my old friend Susan because she became a major twat over my hanging out with her best buddy Keith. Mind you, both Keith and Susan are dead now. Unfortunately, Keith killed himself in 2002, which I'm still angry over (with good reason) and Susan died in a car accident in 2003 (time to let that one go). I will find myself getting all worked up over something she said and then sheepishly remember that she's gone. I did have the chance to talk some of our problems out with her about a month prior to her passing, but the Keith issue was never touched. In some ways I'm sad about that, but in other's...well, I secretly enjoy holding onto that anger. It's a sickness I tell you.

What sucks about me being a major grudge-holder is that I am also cursed with a wickedly good memory. I can remember conversations verbatim from years ago. So, I can totally be (secretly) harboring ill-will for you over something you don't even remember saying. It's like I have a catalog in my brain for each person I meet. It comes in handy when having an actual argument with someone, because I can whip out facts and nonsense to make their head spin. Wait, I'm starting to see why I don't have any friends. I kid, I kid (I hope, I hope).

The reason for this post is this: I'm moving a few states away in a few weeks and I find myself trying to sabotage the few friendships I have here. Namely, my one good friend in particular. I find myself spending my time with her now remembering all the things she has said that have pissed me off. It's like it would be easier to leave on bad terms, than to make the promises of coming to visit and weekly phone calls. And I find myself looking back and seeing that this is the normal pattern for me. I've made clean breaks from my closest friends whenever I moved in the past. And when I look back on those friendships all I remember are the grudges I hold and a few fond memories, but not as many as one would expect.

Is this really healthy? No. Is it easier than fessing up to the pain of missing someone and admitting that your life is a little less full without them? Hell yes. So, see I am a little crazy. I am a little nutty. But, don't try to tell me because I'll just end up hating you later.

*I'm disabling comments on this one as it was more of a therapy session and I don't want any assvice. Not that most of you would dispense of said assvice, but you know...just in case.

mice, rats, and spiders...oh my!

Our house is under attack by little creatures that like to come out at night. I knew we had mice, we've been battling them for a while now. But, imagine my surprise when the other night a rat ran down our hallway. Into my bedroom. My bedroom folks, where I sleep at night. Where I am naked at least once a day. I feel dirty just thinking about it.

The battle is raging. I tried sticky traps only to find the traps in new locations with some fur on them. I have to laugh because I can so picture some dumb rat running around with a trap stuck to it's head. How it's getting loose is beyond me. I'd rather not think about it. I've now resorted to poison. I've hidden it in strategic points around the house (don't worry, little fingers can't find it). So far I've had two kills. Victory will be mine.

Another creature making itself comfy in our backyard is the black widow. I'm totally fascinated with these beautiful spiders as you can see by the pictures I took here and here*. Yes, I actually got down on my hands and knees to take those. I'm weird, but that was established long ago. These beauties are residing under a patio chair. Needless to say, it's theirs now, none of us will be sitting there anytime soon. In fact, the chair is staying here when we move.

This is making it all so much easier to move. I mean really, who wants to stay in a house with rodents and spiders? Let's just hope they don't find us in Idaho too.


*if you're wondering...yes, I took pictures of one of the mice too. He was trapped behind our stove. Sadly, S deleted those pictures. He deleted them all the while mumbling about how his poor wife had gone insane. I say how can one go insane when they already were...heehee!

boxes...I don't need no stinkin' boxes

I hate packing. It sucks. A lot.

The end of July is rapidly approaching and I'm starting to stress about the move to Idaho. We still have no place, but I'm working on that. My mother is acting as our apartment scout. She actually goes out every day and looks at potential places for us. She rocks! I think what's really motivating her is the not wanting us living with her. I don't blame her at all, I don't want to live with her either. Did that for 18 years, don't need to do it anymore. We get along great now and I think that is mostly because we aren't living under the same roof. Well, that and the fact that I finally pulled my head out of my ass.

I didn't realize how hard it would be trying to pack with a toddler running around. I don't know why I didn't realize this, I mean everything else is hard with a toddler, so why would packing be any different. I just have to pack while she's sleeping. See, I'm becoming a smarter parent every day.

Well, I apologize for this post not really going anywhere. My mind is whirling and I can't seem to grab any of the thoughts tumbling around in all that empty space. Plus, our house smells like poo. Seems that the poo-bomb swim diaper of Lexie's got forgotten about in the sideyard waste can. Add in some California summer heat and viola...poo smelling house.

the list

totally stole this from Dawn (thanks!).

• Johnny Depp. Yes, he is probably at the top of everyone's list, but I don't care. Look at how yummy he is:

• Dave Navarro. Oh, I have loved him since he was in Jane's Addiction the first time. Yummy. Carmen Electra is one lucky bitch:

• Brad Pitt. He's my "pretty boy" pick. I don't think I could ever really go through with this one though, I mean really, how can I sleep with someone prettier than me?

• Adrien Brody. He is one of my two "geek" picks. I think tall, lanky, nerdy types are hot!

• Jeff Goldblum. My second "geek" pick. Yum:

so, I want to know...who's on your list?

and now for a little about me

Thanks to Heather for agreeing to "interview" me...

The Official Interview Game Rules
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions...


1. Early when Lexie was born, you switched from BF to FF b/c of back problems. Did anyone give you slack or judge you for this decision? If yes, what did you reply?
Well, the only person to give me hell about it was the La Leche Nazi, er...lactation specialist, I talked with. She actually told me that I would be a bad mom if I gave Lexie formula. At the time I thought breastfeeding was just hard because of my back and large breast size, so I didn't really defend myself to her. I actually thought she was right in a way. I dealt with a lot of guilt of the decision to formula feed Lexie. Now, having Emmie, who can breastfeed like a champ, I know that it was problems on both my and Lexie's end. Her latch wasn't correct due to being a few weeks early, which no one told me until Emmie was born (Emmie had the same problem, she was also early).

2. You are now a mother of 2 beautiful girls, a newborn and a toddler. What is the most challenging aspect of mothering 2, what is easier than you thought it'd be?
The most challenging aspect is prioritize what needs to be done that day. The first few weeks (and still today) I would try to do everything. I now know it's okay to skip a bath, let the dishes pile up, and if one kid's crying it will be okay. I have to remind myself I am only human and there is only one of me.
The part that's easy that I wasn't expecting was how calm I am with Emmie. With Lexie, I would freak if she whimpered. I also realize now that babies aren't as fragile as they look. I don't act like Emmie is glass and that makes mothering her a lot easier.

3. Lexie is pretty young to be able to grasp the concept of having a baby in the house. How does she cope, interact, and react to Emmie time with mommy?
It took her a while, I think, to understand that Emmie was a permanent part of the family. She had been around babies before, but never for more than a few hours. Now, she's so cute with Emmie. She loves to uncover her then re-cover her with the blankets. She also likes to steal Emmie's binkie. She calls her baby, put pronounces it "baa-bee." She doesn't like when I nurse Emmie and tries to climb all over me. So, I have to nurse Em on our bed (it's too high for Lex to climb onto). She hated that at first, but now realizes that she gets to play in mommy's room for a while...bonus!

4. How is the MIL drama going? Did she ever reply to your email?
I am so over her. No, she never responded and I am pretty happy about that. S called his dad to tell him we are moving and she hasn't even called to chat about it or invite us over for a last dinner together. They also ignored S on his birthday, which wasn't cool, but totally expected. It makes moving from S's dad that much easier.

5. I LOVE movies. Sometimes, I feel a movie relates to me in so many ways. What movie/character would you relate most to yourself?
My all -time favorite movie is Gone With the Wind, I fell in love with it while in junior high. Growing up, I always related to Scarlett. I felt she was so like me. Selfish, headstrong, exactly what I wanted to be. Now that I'm older (and a wee-bit wiser), I relate more to Melanie. She is kind, loving, always there for the ones she loves. I strive to be like her in many ways. But, it's still fun to be a total bitch like Scarlett every now and then.

Here are the rules again if you want to be interviewed!
1. If you want to participate, leave a comment below saying "interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions - each person's will be different.
3. You will update your journal/blog with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview others in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

hey, I'm busy

Hope everyone had a great fourth. I know I did. I folded laundry, then laid in bed, listening to the neighbors set off M-80's until 2 am. Fun! I think next year will be the year we actually get off our asses and watch real life fireworks. Lexie should be old enough then to only scream occasionally for fear of being under attack. Fireworks are fun.

We did have a nice afternoon. We went to Todos Santos Park, where they usually have a kick-ass farmer's market. Yesterday, they had several bands playing and Lexie loved grooving to the music. As usual, we got many compliments on how adorable she was. And, of course, once they saw Emmie, we also got the "wow, you have your hands full." comments. God, I hate those. Like I didn't know having two under two was so time-consuming until the very moment a complete stranger points it out. Same goes with the, "you're certainly busy." Am I? Am I really? Because I so didn't know. Hmm, is that why I'm so damn tired (and crabby, can you tell)?

All in all, it was a good holiday. I got to spend time with my family, so that's always nice. I'll close with some pictures from our day.

nonsensical thoughts and ramblings

• Yesterday was S's birthday. He is now 33 years old. Good Lord, I'm married to a mid-thirties man. I'm almost thirty! When did I get this old. I remember thinking 25 was almost dead (granted I was like 15 when I thought this). I don't feel old.
• S and I went to a movie yesterday. Because it was his birthday, he got to choose. He chose War of the Worlds. I hate Tom Cruise (which, I mean, really who doesn't?). The movie was freakin' awesome though. Steven Spielberg can make special affects so pretty. And who doesn't love Dakota Fanning. It's nice to see that she isn't going through that awful awkward stage most child actors go through at her age.
• I have to beg off some money from my dad tonight. It looks like the truck rental company is going to rape us of $900 (that's a dollar a mile, folks) and we are poor. My dad is rich, so there you go.
• Looks like I'll have DSL until the day before we move! This, I am happy about. Damn SBC trying to rape me of the $200 charge of "breaking my contract" I am very not happy about. Seems they have forgotten that the fee doesn't apply if the customer moves to an area not offering SBC. So, I will win this one.
• Our cable will be shut off almost a week before we go. This is going to suck since Lexie is addicted to Disney in the mornings. Luckily, I have a few Wiggle's DVD's for her to get her fix every morning.
• S turned the dryer off last night mid-cycle and now the clothes that were in there smell funny. Thanks butthead.
• I took Emmie to the doctor yesterday. Nothing big, she still looks a little yellow and I wanted to make sure that was okay. She's perfect (ha, the doctor said so!) and weighs a whopping 10lbs 12oz. So, she's gained almost 4lbs in 5 weeks. Guess this means breastfeeding is working after all.
• Lexie is great too. She pooped in her pool last night and I didn't notice until she had drank half the water. Can you say EW! Yeah, I did along with a few other things. Called the doctor and she said not to worry, that she doubted Lex drank half the pool water. Hmm, it's like she knows I have a flare for the dramatic. I'm going to miss this doctor so much. Damn.
• Well, my head is empty now. Off I go to clean house.

Fun with water

Things can only get better, right?

So, S quit his job yesterday. I told him to if it meant he'd be in a better mood around here. But, (and this is a huge but) the thing is, his boss owns the house we're renting. That means he have 30 days to vacate the house and find a new job for S.

Gulp!

So, we're moving to Idaho. Yay! My mom said we can crash with her until we find work and a cheap apartment. I am totally excited. S is concerned about me, thinking I have brain damage (or drain bamage), because this is the sort of scenario I used to have nightmares about. I don't know though, this all seems so right to me. Like this is The Plan for us. I've wanted to move closer to my mom since the day Lexie was born.

I might not be posting much in the next 30 days. I have to get our whole house packed, have a garage sale this weekend, and all that other jazz. Plus, I will obviously be terminating my contract with SBC (yippee!) and who knows when we'll have our own internet service. My mom does have it, so I will be able to post from there. Don't worry, you can't get rid of me that easily!

More answers from me, the expert

Thanks for all the responses on my last post. Heather and Diana raise a good point. Is it possible to love your second (or third, or fourth, or tenth) as much as you love your first? The answer is a gigantic YES!

I was very worried about this through my entire pregnancy. See, I have this dog named Kaya. She was my surrogate child. And I loved her as much as I thought you could love a real, live child. I swore when Lexie was born that my love for this furry thing would not change. Boy, was I in for a shock. Don't get my wrong, I still love my dog (except when she's leaving 'presents' for me on the carpet), but I now know you can't possibly love an animal as much as a child. Well, I'm sure there are people out there who do love animals more than people, but they're just plain nuts and don't apply to this at all.

Now, when I became pregnant with Emmie, I freaked out. I didn't think there was any love left in my heart for another child. I mean, look at how I tossed my little chihuahua to the side. Yes, the rational part of my brain was telling me that I was going to give birth to a baby, not a puppy, but who really listens to the rational part of themselves while pregnant. I think that's what they call an oxymoron.

Flash forward to Emmie's birth day. I was still very worried about how I was going to split my heart between two children. All through my labor all I could think about was Lexie. It got so bad that we had to deny Lexie visiting because whenever she was in the room I forgot to concentrate on my labor. This just served to freak me out even more. I just knew I was going to hell because I was going to be a horrible parent to Emmie and she would be scarred for life by my bitter denial (have I mentioned how much of a drama queen I am?).

Then it happened. The doctor plopped Emmie onto my chest and all my worries were forgotten. My heart swelled with love for this little slimy, screaming thing. What was so awesome about the love I was feeling for her was how it was the same love I had for Lexie, only different somehow. And what really rocked was that my feelings for Lexie were still there. I felt like the Grinch when his heart grew to three times the size. I knew then that I could have 14 kids and love each and everyone of them. My heart would always make the room.

you've asked, so now I will tell

So, Mrs. Bean wants to know all about having two children under two. Since I've been a mother to two under two for exactly 37 days, I consider myself an expert on the subject and will proceed to tell you all about it.

I'm finding that the second child is way more easier than the first. Though, I don't think any mother to two or more doesn't know this. I'm not nearly as freaked out about every little thing and find myself enjoying this little person. The trouble with having your second so close to your first is that the enjoyment time you're having with number two is drastically cut. Just as I get comfy and cosey with Emmie, I have to put her down and chase after Lexie.

I am tired. But, it's a good kind of tired. Like how you feel after working out. It sucks at the time, but after you know you're doing something good. Yes, I just compared raising children to working out...shut up. As I said, I'm tired.

Lexie is entering the tender brat stage. Oh, the temper this girl has. I call my mom to complain about Lexie's latest tantrum and all she can say (between fits of laughter) is, "payback." I guess I was a high-strung child myself. S was too. So our genes met and created this super mutant. A mutant that can arch her back, throw herself on the ground, and wail with enough gusto to sweep the Oscars.

Emmie is a peach. How can she not be? Her only talents at this point are projectile spit-up and the occasional blow out diaper. It's the more active stage I'm dreading. And I have a feeling Lexie is just waiting to teach Emmie all there is to know about driving me mad. That's okay, there is still some of my natural haircolor left to turn grey.

you said boobs, heh heh

Have you ever noticed that once a woman has a baby, all that the woman seems capable of talking about is boobies and poop? It's "my breasts..." this and "my nipples are..." that and "the baby's poop is..." this. Quite intriguing. I think this is why people give post-partum woman so much space. They are sick of hearing about it.

I don't think a day goes by where I don't talk or think (obsess) over my 'girls.' They are getting way too much mind-time. But I can't stop. My mother told me she was going to stop calling because the first words out of my mouth are usually something like, "so my nipples are really toughening up." She doesn't seem to care.

Neither does S. He's just mad because the 'girls' are working girls now and therefore, he can look but no touch. For a boob-man like S, this is a small death. He'll be in mourning for a while.

I"ve heard about men who are "into" breastmilk. That is just sick and wrong on so many levels. I didn't quite believe it until I googled the subject. Internet, you are sick and twisted. Though, I've known that for years. Really. S is not one of those men. He is totally freaked out by breastmilk. It stems from some bad strip bar experience in Mexico...I don't know, I don't ask. I'm guessing it wasn't pretty though.

Parent of the Year

Well, just got off the phone with Poison Control. Yeah, Lexie swallowed about four 800mg Ibuprofen tablets. Fun times. Don't worry she's going to be A-okay. The worst that can (and probably will) happen is a tummy ache and vomiting plus diarrhea.

I feel like a shit head because not only did she get into the damn bottle, but I'm the one that left the bottle out with the lid not secure. And the topper?

Oh, this is good.........









wait for it.........









I caught the act on camera.

Yeah, I saw that she had crawled into her drawer in the kitchen and thought it was cute, so I grabbed the camera. I so didn't notice that she had the bottle in the drawer with her and was chomping away on a pill. Check this pic out and notice the bottle top in her hand. Aren't I a great parent?

But, this paper dress doesn't match my shoes

I had my 4 week post-partum check up today and while sitting in the waiting room I had the strangest feeling. I. Missed. Being. Pregnant. Thank God I got the prescription for birth control because who knows where my brain is at. How could I, the woman who was basically pregnant for two years possibly miss it?

So anyway, what is up with those damn paper dresses they make you wear? There I was sitting naked, wrapped in pink paper (pink!), with breastmilk dripping all over the place. Why can't they let you keep your bra on, at least until the doctor comes in? And why did they have the AC blasting? Didn't they know that I was freezing my ass off? What with being soaked with the mommy juice dripping all over the lovely paper garment, thus rendering it useless, not that it was doing such a hot job keeping me covered anyway.

I know that my doctor has seen worse come out of me than breastmilk. But, it's a little degrading sitting there trying to hold a conversation with someone when all you can think about is the liquid gold* being wasted on the linoleum floor. And I know she was having a hard time maintaining eye contact. I so would have too.

By the end of the visit, the front of my party dress was pretty much disintegrated. Oh well, so much for drinks and dancing.


*we call it liquid gold here at Casa De Austin. Why? I can't remember, but it's a funny story.

I can see clearly now (soon)

I'm going to get contacts today. My poor, poor glasses have finally given up the valiant fight after months of battle with a toddler.

It all started in Hawaii. While lounging in a comfy hammock, my glasses were assaulted by ten month old grubby hands. They didn't fair well. In fact, the nose piece and eye piece were separated briefly in combat. Fortunately, my sister is handy with super glue and they were reunited. Unfortunately, the super glue trick was a trade I had to learn since the war waged on after vacation and away from my gluestick wielding sister. I'm not as handy as she is, as evidenced below:



Yes, dear internet, I have been walking around with a glob of super glue in front of my right eye for months now. Months! Talk about trashy, white trash. I have no excuse. But see, I hate to spend money on myself. If it were one of my kids, or my hubs, or even my freakin' dog that needed new glasses or contacts, I would put myself into debt. But for myself, nothing. How else can I play the martyr?

S finally got sick of hearing me bitch (well that and the super glue ran out). He has ordered me to march myself to the doctor, get my prescription, and order some lovely contacts. It's been about six years since I've owned a pair of contacts. Let's hope I remember how to stick my fingers in my eyes.

Fathers and Mothers

So, today is Father's Day. And I did what I do every Father's day: I call my mother and tell her "happy father's day, mom."

Yeah, you read that right. My dad hasn't gotten a "happy father's day" out of me since I was about six. That was the year he left my mother, two sisters and me because he never wanted kids in the first place. He missed being single. Yes, you can call him an asshat. I have, and still do on occasion.

My mother raised us girls being both roles, which isn't so unheard of in this day and age. Divorce is a common thing, though I don't think it should be, but really does anyone? Anyway, I think she did a rockin' job. My step-dad helped her through the terrible teen years, marrying her just in time for my thirteenth birthday. God bless him.

My father's role in my life was minimal. He would see us maybe two weeks out of the year, during which time he would throw cash and presents at us as a way to compensate for his guilt. At least, that's what I like to think. Today we have a somewhat easy-going relationship with each other. I call him if the car breaks down and S doesn't have time (or we don't have the money) to fix it. He's the one to call when you need the dough. Unfortunate, but I don't think he sees it that way. Money to him is all-important. But, that's a whole different post.

He's really trying to be a good grandpa. Which freaks me out. It's like I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop and for him to up and leave, saying he never wanted grandkids anyway. I doubt that will happen, but the little bitch in my head says otherwise. Isn't family fun?

So, Happy Father's day, mom. Thank you for all you've done for me.

Why I'm going to suck at helping with homework

me: ok, the web address is http, um colon, um backslash-backslash...

S: that's forwardslash.

me: no, it's not.

S: yes, it is. walks over to computer to point out how the slashes are slanting forward.

me: WHATEVER! I can call them whatever I want. Same difference.

S: ...

me: what?

S: calling them whatever you want makes you sound retarded.

me: oh yeah? Well, you are retarded.

S: ...

me: so there.

Stuff portrait friday

Okay, first we have the "what was I thinking" photo. This one is kinda boring. This couch once belonged to my great-grandfather. It used to be pink (think early fifties pink). My mother re-upholstered it to the lovely shade of green it is now (think early seventies green). My father hated to part with this precious gem and asked me if I would take it. You know, to keep it in the family. My only defense is that I was eight months pregnant and it was early in the morning when he asked...


The next photo is of the "something I feel obligated to display" category. There are so many items to chose from in my house. Most of them are my deceased mother-in-laws, so I guess those don't really count as my crosses to bear. Here is a picture of the drawing my little sister drew me about four years ago. She told me I had to hang it somewhere everyone would see and I did. It's in my kitchen. I guess I could take it down since she's 13 now and doesn't care if I have it up or not. Oh, and she lives in Idaho, so it's not like she would know if I had it up or not either...


Finally, "something I have that I'm pretty sure no one else has." This poster (in a frame! So high-class!) came from my husband. He found it in an abandoned apartment back when he managed apartments, way before he met me. It's kinda trippy and he's pretty sure the original owners were heavily into the drugs. Staring long enough at it, you can totally see what he means...

This is entertaining

So, I intalled a stat counter because I'm cool, just like all of you. Well, that and I was super curious to see how some found my blog through searches.

It seems to most popular is I hate my mother-in-law or some other form of that exact sentiment. But, did you know someone stumbled upon me by searching for tingling sensation in the nipple or, my personal favorite, kill piss ant.

I'm so having fun with this.

**oh yeah. Thanks for liking my blogs new clothes. I found the template at Miz Graphics and then changed it up a bit. I'll try to stick with this one for a while, though it's totally addicting.

No news is good news...right?

She hasn't returned my email or even called. This doesn't really surprise me since she is Mrs. Passive-Aggressive 2005. But, I'm itching for battle and the ball is in her court. If I strike again, I'll just look mean and evil.*

I'm sure she's telling anyone who will listen though what she thinks about me now. That's fine, bacause those people will tell me. It's a vicious circle, reminiscent of junior high. Remember those days? Yeah, I thought I was past them too.

The kids are doing well. We bought Lexie a new swimsuit for the summer, and I must say it's quite adorable.


Emmie is growing like a weed.


I'm really enjoying the infant stage this time around. With Lexie I was a giant stress ball, always worrying about if she was eating enough, peeing and pooping enough, sleeping enough, etc, etc. That is something good about having them so close together, you haven't forgotten everything you went through with the first. It's all still fresh in your mind. Linda said it best: you're still in baby-mode. That makes is a little more tolerable. Well, that and the fact that my kids are the cutest damn things ever reproduced.

*at least that's how the rules are in this crazy family I married into.

What is totally warping my mind

is the fact that someone under three feet tall can manage to lose not one, but three remotes. All to three different televisions.

I'm totally blaming S for this one. I know I would never let Lexie play with the remotes. Now the phone, well that's another subject all together.

This means war

Okay, more mother-in-law drama in...

5

4

3

2

1

Omgod, I cannot, no really cannot, stand this shedevil any longer. She has pulled the last straw. I guess she's now angry with me and talking smack about me to anyone who will listen because I a) haven't returned her phone call (because like, duh, I just had a baby) and b) I haven't called her for help. And she knows I need help because, and I quote, "no one can raise two kids that young by themselves."

What. The. Fuck.

She has also turned my father-in-law against my husband, his son. Oh yeah. He is now telling anyone who will listen (and thankfully, they do and report to me) that S is smoking pot (not true) and skipping out on work (true, but because he threw his back out and is staying home under doctor's orders). I don't get this family. Not at all. They are all crazy. Seriously.

I have really opened a can of worms though because I, gasp, confronted MIL in an angry, yet eloquently written email. That's pretty much declaring war in her book. Well, bring it on beeatch. I am so ready.

A little about me

I wasn't tagged but this looked like fun...

10 years ago, I....
1. was a finishing up my junior year in high school
2. worked as a manager at the local McDonald's
3. dreamed of running away from my small town

5 years ago, I....
1. had just started dating my husband.
2. worked as a receptionist at a veterinary hospital
3. dreamed of running back to my small town

Today I ....
1. took a shower
2. tried to fix our printer
3. scrubbed one toilet (one down, one to go)

Tomorrow, I will....
1. be on my own with both kids (my mom leaves tonight...sniff, sniff)
2. think about cleaning the house
3. probably watch a lot of bad TV

3 Snacks I Enjoy:
1. anything chocolate
2. nachos
3. cheese and crackers

5 Songs I know all the words to, even with out the Music:
1. Ice, Ice Baby by Vanilla Ice
2. The Humpty Dance by (is it?) Digital Underground
3. Baby's Got Back by Sir Mix Alot
4. Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen
5. any song by the Beatles

Things I would do with $100,000,000:
1. buy a house
2. buy another car
3. pay off all debts

5 Locations I'd run away to:
1. Hawaii
2. Ireland
3. Australia
4. Fuji
5. Idaho (only because my mom is there)

5 Bad habits I have:
1. I swear like a sailor
2. I procrastinate
3. I worry way too much
4. I bite my nails
5. I burp...and don't say excuse me

5 Things I like Doing:
1. sleeping
2. reading
3. hanging with my kids
4. camping (as long as there is a real bathroom nearby)
5. riding amusement park rides

5 Things I would Never Wear:
1. capri pants (my legs are too short)
2. two piece bathing suit
3. halter top
4. hot pants
5. moomoo

TV Shows I like:
1. Lost
2. Survivor
3. Amazing Race
4. The 4400

Movies I like:
1. Ocean's Eleven
2. Stand By Me
3. Gone With the Wind

5 famous people I would like to meet:
1. Jesus
2. John Lennon
3. Johnny Depp
4. Angelina Jolie
5. President Bush

5 Biggest Joys at the Moment:
1. Lexie
2. Emmie
3. the fact that they are both napping right now
4. my mom did my dishes
5. and she did my laundry

okay, I'm tagging Linda...YOU"RE IT.

Stuff Portrait Friday

This one's a fun one...


Something you have that you want more of :


Something you have that you want less of:




Something you have that you are completely satisfied with as is:

The Next Generation

I don't know what I find funnier in this picture: the totally uncomfortable smile on my grandpa's face or the attempt to placate Lexie by dangling keys above her head. Fun times at my grandparents house!

My grandparents aren't what you would call kid people. I think they were once upon a time, considering they had two girls, but it's been a while and they are rusty from lack of practice.

Enter Lexie.

Lexie is at that tender age of destruction all toddlers hit about this time. You know the age I'm talking about. If there is something breakable within reach, she will reach it and most likely break it. Seems the grandparents forgot this little detail about kids when they invited us over. It was amusing though watching them squirm and shoot the look to each other whenever they thought no one was watching. You know the look. It says, yeah she's cute but she's got her grubby hands all over our stuff and I hope those grubby handprints will come off with minimal scrubbing. Good times.

It thrills me to no end though that both sets of my grandparents are alive. It's a heartwarming sight seeing them hold my child, knowing that not all that long ago (try 27 years...no, not long ago at all) they were holding me and commenting on how small my ears were.