what's up? not much...

Oh, this kid...

The brothers, bonding.  Sort of...



The family, minus one. :(




Playing with a Christmas gift.  Weeks prior to.  Everyday this kid with his, "I wanna go to Wal-Mart."  Drives me nutso...




STILL working on potty training...(see the pinch?)

OH!  And I can cross "Experience someone vomiting down inbetween my boobs" off of my bucket list. AND wake every 1-2 hours to feed an infant and then entertain a 3 year old all day.  BUT I'm becoming a master at multi-tasking (breastfeed AND eat dinner, anyone?), time management (buy the groceries, workout, take a nap, fold laundry before 3:30) all while maintaining the ability to speak in complete sentences to my awesome friends who call/email/text/come over/invite over often to make sure I'm still taking the occasional *sip* of wine to ensure happiness and credibility and possible *relaxation* (What the fuck is THAT?).  And, also, to make sure I haven't gone all *Britney* and shaved my head and driving aimlessly around on country roads swerving to miss potholes and deer.

We're doing well.....I just hope he's doing well....where ever he is, under there, somewhere.....

Ari talks! (sort of)

Hey, you, lady with the camera!  Back it up, will ya, or you'll get a punch to the face!



Hey!  What's over there?  A wall?  Why don't you take a picture of THAT?!



YAWN.  So bored with this!  Where's my big brother?



Seriously...can you put me down on the bouncy seat or something?  I'm *totally* all set here.



Yay!  Let's clap for big brother!



That 3 year old never stops moving, does he?



Pregnant and in overalls: I must have been high. Off life, and stuff.

While we were on our mini-vacation at le beach Rehobeth, the husb and I had a sort of "date day."  Whenever we're together and there isn't a child within 2 feet of us (not counting the "inner child") and do "adult" things like finish sentences, it feels like a "date."

My idea and standards of what is romantical drastically changed when I became mom-ified.  You don't necessarily need to go all white linen, expensive perfume wearing, $60 botttle of chardonney, red lipstick and jazz to be considered a "date."

You just need grandma or some other responsible adult to show up and watch the kid.

Here's what the math looks like:
me plus husb minus Milo equals date squared cosign and stuff.

I know, you might need a Texas Instrument to make sense of this one.

We had gotten  full-body, 1 hour massages.  Which, I highly recomend no matter-no time-any place!  Even though I can't lie belly down, there are some WON-DER-FUL techniques to rub out the tension that a prego lady carries in her back and hips (and shoulders and head and neck and legs and feet amen). 

Ooh -lala, health insurance should cover pregnancy massages...

In all honesty, if I wasn't pregnant, I'm sure we would have found the nearest sushi and wine joint and vegged out for 3 hours.  Sigh, maybe next month year...

After lunch, we stopped in at one of my favorite shops, Sunshine Octopus.  They totally fullfill my inner hippy child to no end.  I just love all the skirts and tops and tapestries and bongs jewelery.  One of the sales girls approaches me in all her dreaded hair and patchouli glory and starts chatting me up about these "awesome overalls"  that "you have GOT to try on!"

"You would look SO CUTE!"

Me: "uh, no."

She pulls out the brown corduroy number.

Me: " Oh, nonononono."

But then again, I've had a massage, I'm relaxed, I'm well-fed, there isn't a 3 year old in sight, and the Jimmy Hendrix playing in the store is really groovin' on me, man....I can't help myself...



Pregnant, self-respecting women do not belong in overalls.
This is my truth.

 A date with me= you never know whose pants I may be trying on.... ;)

Monday, 2:23pm, tactics to a better mood





Sometimes he wakes up from his nap on the wrong side of the big boy bed.
He gets this from me.
Except I have a big girl bed.



Strategy One:  Fear:  Scare him into a good mood.
(doesn't work)



Strategy 2: Smudging:  Burn sage while chanting "Hey ya, Hey ya, Hey..."
(closer to fine...)





3rd and final strategy: road trip:  Get Thee to a BEACH!





Ah...happy, playful toddler, now that's the stuff...



bathtime at 12 weeks

what the...?



"Mama...is your belly okay?"



"...because it looks...."



"A WHAT?!  A Baby?!?  I can't even look at you right now..."



I've been a piss-poor wife. But it's not my fault. (sort of)

It happens when you're a first trimester casualty.

The long-ass ass-sessions on the couch.  Surrounded by crumbs and empty containers of yogurt, half eatten PB and J sandwiches, string cheese wrappers and several dirty glasses...

The "so whatchu makin' for dinner"? nightly basis check-in.

"Hey hon, the cat litter needs some attention.  You scooped 2 days ago?  Do you mind revisiting? I smell their shit, like majah. love you.

me: Idol is on tonight for 2 hours."
husb:  Guess I'm giving Milo a bath tonight. AND putting him down.  Again."
me: what?

6:17am Saturday morning:
Milo: Daaaadeeeee.  Daaaadeeee. (repeat for 20 minutes)
I totally pretend like I'm in a deep, hard Princess sleep.
Afterall, it's daddy he's calling for, not me...

Refusing to eat leftovers.  Only take out gourmet sandwiches from the deli up the street will do for my lunch.  Cha-ching!!

I'm slowly taking over the closet with my maternity awesome-wear. Move over work uniforms and other straight-man attire...big girl pants and mu-mu's comin' through!!

I'm still hanging tight in the "inbetween stage" of regular pants no longer fitting comfortably or AT-ALL, yet, maternity pants are looking a little too MC Hammerish.  So I've taken to mostly wearing sweat pants or just walking around the house in pants that aren't buttoned.

My husb thinks this is an invitation.  Until he hears the sounds coming from my ass.

It's a good thing that man loves me.

In related news:

T minus 1week until the 2nd trimester!!!

We're running out of options; desperately seeking spring

Blurred to protect the Innocent. And the Guilty.

The morning after clean-up crew.  My HOA dollars hard at work.

So, yeah.
Here's a pic of my neighbors. One is street sweeping while the other is drinking a substance unknown while... supervising?

"You missed a spot."

Did I mention it's 27 degrees outside?

It's like they just woke up and said, "Top of the morning to you, Neighbor! Why don't you grab a broom and a cocktail and meet me outside? Get dressed?  Nah, just pull on something festive!  It's the HOLIDAZE"

I love my Klass-Act neighborhood.  Keeps me happy.

the fun around here never stops. or it never starts. Depends on who you ask

So the other day my son took a rather large shit.

He looks over at me and says, "Oh no...what happened?"

Then he grabs his bum and says, "Butt.  Butt."

This is the stuff proud moms are made of.

8:30am Sunday morning

Milk? check

Peanut butter face? check

Battle ship? check

Diaper box? check

I think we're all good here.

I blinked. What did I miss?

My kid is wicked smaht.

P.S. Happy Thanksgiving Canada!
P.P.S.  Happy Columbus Day America!

stop the imadness WAIT! there's an APP for that!!

I've been noticing the "i" craze:

ipod
iphone
ipad
itouch
itunes
ichat
igoogle
ihome
imax
ivillage

 ithis, ithat, ieverything. What about...

mepod
mephone
mepad

Because it's ALL ABOUT ME.  I want it bigger, faster, shinier, smaller, smarter, prettier, sleeker...AND IT BETTER SMELL GOOD, TOO.

And, then, there are all the APPS.  For everything.  I mean, the ieverything.

IDEA! iIdea! I'll invent the ieverything!! Then I'll be the champion of the universe!! I'll be the richest ibitch EVER because ihave the ieverything!

Mother Nature?  Father Sky?

Yeah...there's an app for that too.

Feeling claustrophobic? Download inature and in a nanosecond you'll be at the iocean sitting on your iyacht.  Or the imountains, skiing down the islopes.

The possibilities are iendless.

where you be?

alternate title:  I'm a lazy blogger as of late and/or possibly just so damn busy with work and then dinner and then bath and then rockabye storytime and then I just want to eat chocolate marshmellow ice cream and go night-night...

other alternate title: I'm a lazy blogger who is working far too much this week for other people who are on vacation and then I come home and wait for the husb to cook dinner and then entertain, bathe and put Milo to bed while I take a nap and then catch up with The Hills while eatting chocolate marshmellow ice cream.

But we're still keeping things real. And real klassy, as per usual...

Pants?   Pants are for people who live in areas where the temperature isn't being called things like record-breaking. 

Now I gotta go watch Hell's Kitchen finish folding laundry...

You aren't fooling anybody Jesus

I think the nuns are following me.  Wonder if they were offended by this post?

Nuns seen here. April 2010. D.C. Metro.

SAME Nuns seen here. May 2010. North Beach Farmers Market.

No shit, yeah?

I might be hurting in the sleep department, but these are not hallucinations.  My psychotic features are finely managed with Chardonnay.

I mean Jesus Juice.

I wonder where they'll *appear* or just *drop by* next month. Heads up nun-folk...I'll be at the BEACH.  On VACATION. WITH MY FAMILY.

And I'm packing the Amish bread and homemade fig jam.

 BOO-YA

a possible future career

Incessant Purse Investigator

for the record, no minors were hurt during the taking of these pics...

boy: Your hair looks nice today.

girl: Uh, yeah. That was MY bagel you're eating.  And, btw, why are you wearing a pink beaded necklace?

boy: The food here is SO good!

girl: Did I shave my legs for this? I wonder if I'll be home on time for Idol.

boy: hey! Mind if I sit next to you? I feel this connection...

girl:  Are you f*ckin' kidding Me??

For some reason, these pics remind of every first date I've ever been on.  Just sayin'.

Uh Oh

 What happened?

Marker in the cats water bowl.  It happens...

p.s. Needless to say, he's perfected the saying, "Uh Oh."

SuperBowl, the Nat'l Anthem, and another blow out

"So, Milo, I'm going to teach you a little about Patriotism and the American Way.  Now we're here, watching the Superbowl, and before the game begins someone comes out and sings the National Anthem...

"During this time it is imperative that we stand, place our right hand over our heart, and sing...along with Carrie Underwood..."

"See, Milo, it's just a magical moment..." (holds back tears, like that football player on the tv, see?)

"OK, now let's have a drink and watch the kickoff!"

"CHEERS!  Who you rootin' for?"

"Saints or the Colts?" *Clink*

"Whoa, wait a minute kid....did you...just...?"

"...shit yourself?  Yup...you sure did....Those wings and pizza ain't sittin' right with you are they? Or was it the Nachos with xtra cheese and refried beans your mother made?"

"Ok, so, seriously, Milo, you broke some guy code.  It's time for you to go see your mother...I'll be right here, waiting for you."

"I love you, man, but....whoa....come back during half time, mmmk?"

 

"hey, hon...Milo needs you for a sec...GO SAINTS!"

Peptobismal, 25inches of snow, and possible TMI

I'm not one to get sick often -maybe once a year, or every other year. Which is good because me and sick just aren't a good combo.  But when you pair us up and then add an 18 month old...you get an entire all get-out irritableNOpatienceenergySloppyJoe-ofamessITIS.  Then you take that cocktail and stir in about 25 inches of snow...You get a full on Lifetime special. With NO commercials. This all started in the late, but oh- so-convenient hour of 10pm Wednesday night and lasted THROUGHOUT the night. (Oh, hello again, sunrise!). Tums and Peptobismal were NO MATCH for this bad boy!

You know when you first start dating someone and you are so CONSCIOUS of them hearing you in the bathroom?  OH THE HORRER! Please, don't let him hear me POOPING!! In fact, my husband didn't even fart in front of me until after we were married!

Good thing I'm over that. (I hear the moans of eye rolling and the "spare me" gazes as I type this...)

  Though I'm no longer "in the weeds" of this here bug, (read: sitting on the toilet while hugging a trashcan) I'm still feeling incredibly run down, uninspired, low to nothing appetite -just give me some jello and my gatorade/pedialyte concoction and I know I just slept for 10 hours but I'm still dragging...

wow. so this was fun. You ok to drive?

ps So far the husband and babe are fine. I'm keeping my fingers crossed...

Baby come back

I was going through some old photos and came across these from that one snow storm (Or is it snowstorm? some things they just didn't teach us in public school) we got a few weeks back or maybe it's been a month or 2 now I can't remember so I guess the photos aren't *that* old but I remember seeing the broom in the snow and it reminded me of that Swiffer Mop commercial and thinking wow I am glad to capture this *moment* and then with the second pic being all "honey, hey, hey, honey, stop the car, back up, gotta take a picture of that grocery cart can you believe they just left it there knowing a snownomenon was coming and the cart could be stuck there for WEEKS and hubby was all are you serious and then he gave a big 'ol big sigh while putting the car in reverse...

"...you can blame it all on me..."

Sad really...

yeah. So there's that. 

I need a good nights sleep. Seriously...