If one didn't know better

One would think I should pee on a stick.

I am nauseous. I was experiencing both vertigo and lightheadedness from Friday night through Sunday morning. I am grouchy, tired and generally pissed at the world. And I'm funky crampy on top of that.

Of course, one would have to be having SEX to be pregnant.

I think it's the fact that the boy hasn't slept a good 5 hour stretch since returning from vacation.

Last night he was up (read: so was I) TEN TIMES between 8pm and 7am. How can one person wake up that much in one night and not just want to DIE the next day?

Didn't seem to effect the boy.
I on the otherhand, do indeed pray for death.

Scary shit in this world

Today I took the kids for a stroll at my alma mater/former employer's campus. We ended up under lockdown in an academic building for three hours. A police officer was shot and killed on our campus. The man took his gun and fled on foot. He was later in a shootout about four blocks away that finally lifted the lockdown. It was so scary, but moreso just so sad. We kept looking online at the local news, refreshing every ten minutes, trying to find out what was happening, as copters whirled overhead. When we found out it was Officer James Davis, a 31 year old who had worked for Butler just a year, we were saddened. Father of three. Then we heard he'd died at the hospital. The safety of this small campus community is forever shattered...some bastard shot and killed a COP, for God's sake. I just hugged my little girl and stared at my peacefully sleeping baby boy, whispering how sorry I am that this world I brought you into was so messed up. I had to explain to a four year old girl that a bad man had shot someone and that we had to stay inside until the bad man was caught. It was really awful.

For more info on the story, you can read it here.

I'm not a big praying type, but if you are, please say a quick one for that man and his family. He took an "easy" police job, went to work this morning and never came home.

When ya got nothing else

You steal from other people's blogs. This one is scammed courtesy of Alexis:

I AM: an old soul
I KNOW: too much about New Kids on the Block
I HAVE: been very blessed to be able to stay home this year
I WISH: I could magically lose 20 pounds
I HATE: selfish, rude assholes on the road
I MISS: my mom
I FEAR: that my husband will die and leave me alone with fatherless children
I HEAR: silence from the baby's room...finally
I SEARCH: for some reason why people think "W" is a good president
I WONDER: if God will let me into Heaven when I die
I REGRET: dumping Jason so cruelly when I was 19. He was a good guy.
I LOVE: The sight of my sweet babies when they sleep
I ACHE: For mothers who lose their young
I CARE: way too much about what others will think of me
I ALWAYS: touch things with both hands
I AM NOT: uppity
I DANCE: like there should be a pole in the room
I SING: without gusto and lose my breath too often and sound heady
I DO NOT ALWAYS: buckle my seatbelt when it's "just down the street". I know, I know.
I SHOULD NOT: be allowed to operate heavy machinery
I WRITE: so that I don't kill someone in this house
I WIN: at Taboo. Always.
I LOSE: at cards. Hate them. All kinds.
I CONFUSE: the hell out of people with my quick words and Chicago dialect
I LISTEN: to 80's music with abandon
I GO: crazy watching the clock right around quarter to six
I AM HAPPY ABOUT: turning thirty and heading in a new direction in my life.

You have *got* to be kidding

Okay, nods to the girls at Figgy Pudding, but I gotta say that I am going to poke my eyes out with a hot stick if I walk into one more store that looks like Santa hurled all over the displays. It's not yet HALLOWEEN, people!! I remember getting urky if it was still the week before Thankgiving and I saw a tree with lights. It made my turkey so anticlimactic. Now I gotta go digging among crappy jujubees and Dots to find the good clearance candy while listening to "The Little Drummer Boy"?

And Jesus wept, man.

What's in a number?

So my post pregnancy jeans have resurfaced. You know the ones. You buy them as a "transitional" pair, then wear them every.damn.day. until your baby's first birthday.

I have two pairs leftover from girlchild. One I got at a thrift store when I'd convinced myself "transitional" meant a few months. 16s. They are Gap, so cool, right? Nope. They have tapered legs, a la '87. Missed that in the store. But for two bucks, who cares? I sheared the bottom off and wear them cool and fringy.

After a few months of these jeans as my only pair of pants that fit me, I broke down and visited the Lane Bryant. Got me a pair of 16s. Boot cut, low slung and looking fine, one may suppose. I have tons of friends who wear 16s, 18s, even 20s, and I think they look damn good. I know they also beat themselves mercilessly over it and would tell me to "shutthefuckuprightnowyoustupidbitch*I*shopatLaneBryantyougotaproblemwiththat?"

But to this former bullemic who secretly on her worst days think her senior prom pics at 85 pounds look *good*, it was an admitted defeat. Now after child number two, I find that the jeans are worn every day. EVERY DAY. Throw on a Tshirt to cover the boobs that actually TOUCH the beltline when I sit down, and I'm a fashionista, baby.

The coolest thing is that although I feel kinda crap that this is my wardrobe not by choice but by default, I still feel okay that I'm hanging on to the pounds because I'm still nursing the boy. I can only use that excuse for so long, but I'm fully planning to work that angle as long as I can.

But every so often, I sneak my cute Express jeans out of the closet (size 14s, mind you...not tiny, but doable and not too ego deflating) and squish the rolls around until they zip. Then I put on my hot boots and black clubbing top and I do a little dance.

Spare tire lapping over beltloops and camel toe are the latest in mommy chic.

The truth comes out

About being a big sister. Last night we had one of our usual bedtime battle of wills. Got to where girlchild would cross her arms and say "no" to whatever I told her to do. I was nursing the baby and felt the pangs of a similar "spank moment" coming on. I even asked if that was what she wanted, because she was heading that way.

I put the baby to bed and came into her room. She shrieked, covered her butt with her hands and cried "no mommy, please don't spank me!!"

So we had a talk. A long one. Mostly about how she doesn't want to be a big sister anymore.

"I want to go backwards. I want to be the baby again. I want to be fed and played with and need you again". And even moreso to the heart of the matter: "Z needs you so much and you have to be with him all the time to feed him. Daddy always has to take care of me. But you and I are supposed to be on the same team, mommy!" Break.my.heart. whydon'tcha?

She doesn't NOT love her daddy, but she is very aware that much of her caretaking falls on him, thereby "absolving" me from taking care of her. Bathtime, dinner, even getting a glass of juice falls on someone else if they are available, especially if I'm feeding the baby. In fact, the biggest fights she and I have are whist I'm attached at the boob to a small child. And apparently it hasn't gone unnoticed.

I tried to empathize that being a big sister myself, I understand how it feels. Less attention, more jealousy, more anger. And that it's okay to be angry, but she still needs to cut it with the backtalk. She's only four, for God's sakes. Heaven help us when she's a teenager with that attitude.

She did ask me if Uncle Bryan was a cute baby. When I assured her she was, she said "but he wasn't as cute as Our Z, was he?" As jealous as she may be, she loves the snot out of that little boy.

But we cried, we hugged, and all is right with the world today. I'm taking her to the circus tonight. Just us. She was thrilled and shouted a big "yippee, it's GIRL'S NIGHT" when I reminded her this morning that today is the big outing.

So now I have a small girl who is clamoring for as much attention as her father seems to be.

Hold me.

Basking in yumminess

So I have this pregnancy weight to lose, ya ever hear me bitch about it? I also have about 5 extra pounds I picked up somewhere in the Poconos. Damn them. So I'm vowing a healthier diet. Except for ice cream. And pizza. And oreos. Oh hell, forget it.

But I DID make an incredibly yummy salad for dinner last night, which I am currently partaking of the leftovers right now.

Bag of mediterranean greens ($2.50 on sale at Kroger)
Toasted walnut pieces, sunflower seeds and dried cranberries (all pantry staples)
blueberries (two handfuls from my frozen stash I keep for fruit pies in winter)
a chopped apple
crumbled feta (left over from last weeks' greek food fetish)

Toss all the above with the best poppy seed dressing I've ever had (thanks, Ginny):

2 T poppy seeds
2 T vinegar
1/3 C sugar
1/4 C milk
1/2 C lowfat mayo (I use Miracle Whip...regular mayo is Jizz in a Jar, IMO)

Now, go make this salad. And forget that last line about the Jizz. It'll ruin it for ya.

More yumminess

Do you snack on your kids? I mean, that sounds queer, but I can't help sniffing and "snacking" on my babies. Z has the pudgiest little toes that I can't keep out of my mouth. In the grown up world, this is called "fetishism" and a possible cause for concern. With babies, it's just damn cute. His cheeks are just killer, and his nose is, well, it's like a little cherry tomato. I can't get enough of him.

Now E, my four year old girlchild, is just as snackable, but now that she is a big girl who wears shoes, no longer lets me check her wiping technique and has morning mouth just like the rest of the world, you need to pick and choose your munchable items. I love to lift her hair and kiss the nape of her sweet little neck, that always smells like her berry shampoo. Her little hands are just the sweetest replicas of my own, and her toes are still kissable (but only straight out of the bath, mind you).

Yep, the Incredible Edible DQ's kids. God gave me a buffet of edibles that will always be on my diet.

No one delete me from your list!!!

I've been out of town, okay? A week in the Poconos with a four year old and a four month old. I'm buried under laundry and dog hair here at the homestead. I will blog about so many important things in a few days, I promise. You'll all be flabbergasted at my genius. : )

At least he has a sense of humor about it

The husband was packing up the work bag this morning and found his old buisness cards. I asked him if they'd made him some new ones yet, and he replied:

"No. They haven't figured out how to spell "shiznet" yet".

Now that's good humor.

A tale of two women

There once was a woman who liked to shop. She would search high and low for *thee* perfect neck baring black ballet neck top, killer boots, and gorgeous earrings to bring it all together. This same woman enjoyed getting a good deal on a handbag, and rejoiced to see that the new Indigo Girls CD was out so she could rush to the store and pick it up. She loved to buy the newest nail polish at MAC, and whatever the scent of the month was at BBW in a luxurious body cream.

Somewhere along the line, that woman changed. She scoured ebay in search of a refurbished Kitchenaid mixer to sit on her countertop. The 6 Cup capacity epicurean one. She delighted in finding a floor model dishwasher on super sale to replace the one that no longer worked correctly. She coveted that porch swing until it became hers, and got giddy when the new screen door was hung.

And just last night, this woman actually had a DREAM about the new glasstop, 4.6 cu.ft. capacity oven with matching black range hood that is now residing in her kitchen, fit snugly between the cabinets that hold her beloved crockpot and the counter that boasts the shiny navy blue mega mixer.

I wonder what happened between then and now. I still love to shop, but find myself wandering Lowes and Home Depot with as much excitement and starry eyes as I used to have when wandering Nordstroms.

But maybe it isn't so bad. I can now mix up cookies and cook two batches at once whilst wearing my kick ass leather boots. ;)

Checking back in

After a LONG convo yesterday, we are better. I knew that was all it would take. He said he realizes what he's been doing, and he truly is swamped with work. Promised that he'd be out from under in a month or so, and I'm holding him to it.

Of course, the conversation ran the gamut from sex to transitioning to a SAHM to where the kids fit in. In true "man" fashion, he wants more sex, and sees the kids and the stage they are in as just another "obstacle" for lack of better word to us being closer and connecting.

We're back to the resolve of dates, spending time talking when things are going right, not just when they are messed up, and he promises to be more considerate of my time and energies.

So, yay.