grey's anatomy--a deer? are you kidding me?

I was feeling a little guilty about buying some new clothes this weekend, but then I realized that I have 2 pairs of jeans and 2 pairs of slacks that fit me. That's it. There are two more pairs of pants hanging in the closet that are on the "I don't like them very much, but if they fit I guess I will wear them" list. (I think they are too short.) So I got two more pairs of pants, a new black skirt, and four new shirts. The shirts are cool cause they are blouses with high buttons and no collar. I'd take a picture, but the shirts are in the bedroom and punkin is not asleep yet. One of the pairs of pants is from New York and Company. They are fabulous--knit and extra long. Basically feels like I'm wearing pajamas, but it doesn't look sloppy. Only $24. The other stuff was from good old JCP--only $60. The name of the day was bargain. I think one of the shirts is going back, though, because it is empire waist and very long. So it doesn't really go with any of my dress pants. I think it's just too long. Accentuates my rear a little too much. I dunno. I know you care about this SO MUCH.

Some frienders came over for dinner, and I made BBQ Chicken Pizza. MMM. Just put some Cookies BBQ Sauce on a refrigerated pizza crust and top it with chicken, colby-jack shredded cheese, and bacon. And green onions if you're into that. Just a tip: don't worry about making the pizza dough into a circle. Just make a rectangle pizza. That pizza dough is super hard to work with.

WHEN? When is a new episode of The Girls Next Door going to be on? AND, I have to wait another month and a half for Project Runway! Maybe what I really need is one more day of weekend.

Punkin was amazing when we went shopping. HE TOOK A NAP IN HIS STROLLER. AT THE MALL!!! And then he told me he had to go poop--and he did it! And this morning he told me he had to go pee--and he did! What a brilliant boy. On Friday his teacher was really excited because he sorted object magnets. There were blue stars, white rabbits, and red apples. His attention is getting worse and worse, but he shows a clear interest in sorting, in colors and shapes, and in books. He likes puzzles, too, but gets frustrated easily because he can't manipulate the pieces into their appropriate space even when he knows where they are supposed to go. I feel so bad when that kind of work is so hard for him. I don't know how to make it easier. And he is so independent. He doesn't want any help. I'm glad he wants independence, though. I'd rather he do that then insist I do everything for him. (Which is SO easy to do because it is faster and easier.) Now if I could get him to master a shape sorter......

Church has been wonderful these past few weeks. Punkin has been falling asleep right before the sermon and staying asleep until the service is over. So he sleeps through the two most difficult parts for him--the sermon and the prayer of the church. And if there's communion, he sleeps through that, too! So nice. I don't know if it's just a phase or if it's because we have been having somebody new sit with us and he is a good luck charm. Either way, I'll take it as long as I can get it! =)

This Friday I get to play sand volleyball again. Be prepared for pictures of my bruised and beaten arms and lots of stories about how I ate sand! New pictures of The Punkin tomorrow. I haven't posted any in a long time, and I feel like he's grown three inches!

the good daughter and the other daughter, you pick who is who

"I don't like these sprinkles. They're not the chewy kind."

"Okay. They are exceptionally crunchy, but I don't think I've ever had a chewy sprinkle."

hooray for sisters!

Punkin really likes to go potty, when it's his idea to go potty. And maybe it's because I seem so interested, or maybe it's because he's not actually sure if something is going to happen, but he is very curious to see the, err, fruits of his labor. So today, he reaches down and grabs his little guy to check out what's happening, and he ends up spraying the bathroom as well as his mother.. And what did I do before even thinking of the bleach? I clapped and gave him a sticker. Now, what I don't quite understand is that if a kid at school had done that to me, I would be totally grossed out. But in reality I was more concerned with the germs on the floor than the germs on me. Why is it that I don't think my kid has germs? His boogers, for example, are to me completely harmless. His smashed peas and french fries mixed with ketchup in his hair, not a big deal. Only a mother's love, I suppose.

MY SISTER IS COMING! Like in 20 minutes. Eeek. I am making her a pizza. Too bad all the good towels are dirty. Oops. I am not so much a thinker-aheader. (Otherwise known in the educated world as a planner.) When we took those personality tests in college, they asked what we would do if a friend told us we were going to leave for France the next day. One group made a list with items such as "check the weather and pack accordingly, make sure passport is valid, exchange money..." The group I was in came up with, "call everyone I know and invite them along, pack, buy a new outfit." On the other hand, we were also asked to divide a bag of M&Ms among us. One group just passed the bag. My group counted them out, distributed them, exchanged colors as neccessary so that everyone had at least one of each (but hopefully not more than one of each) and talked about cutting a few of them in half. See, I'm an unprepared organizer who wants the world to be fair and fun.

Okay, I need to make sure La Frozen Pizza is not overcooked.

short and sweet

So, I listed the dress on a local wedding site today. Someone already asked for pictures, so I went ahead and made another blog just for the pics. This way I only have to spend time uploading them once. Here it is: http://www.erikasdress.blogspot.com/

My sister and my grandparents are coming this week! Hooray!

Coming soon: A letter-writing campaign to Oprah!

this is so going in my blog

In traditional Friday style, Oma and our peeps went out to dinner last night. Then I followed the peeps to watch them play volleyball. Afterwards we hit up A&W/Long John Silvers, where a brief but somewhat controversial debate over chicken and hot dogs took place. A girl has to admit when she is wrong, even if she's not sure the person it pertains to reads her blog. But anyway, one Long John Silver's Chicken Plank has 9 fewer grams of fat than a regular Oscar Meyer hot dog, but just as many calories and grams of salt. In short, I concede. I even looked up an A&W plain hot dog on their website. Remind me not to ever eat a hot dog again.


I can't remember any of the funny things people said last night at dinner. We went to Carlos O' Kelly's (sorry, Alice, but what's with the name?). One of the real high points -- aside from the chicken, cheese, tortillas, and rice -- was when we were sitting in the foyer waiting for our table and my friend A goes, "Is this a Mexican restaurant?" Later I got shushed by Oma for apparently talking too loudly about the fish balls (see previous post). She said it first!

But throughout dinner and the rest of the night, I kept saying, "That's so the title of my post!" So when I finally settled in to watch the first episode of How I Met Your Mother (which my frienders are obsessed with), I was tickled when one of the characters (sorry, guys, I am bad with the names of real people, much less t.v. characters) says, "This is so going in my blog!" I do like the show. Pretty clever dialogue. Only a smidge predictable. But I have a hard time with sitcoms now. I took a course in college called Women in Television and we had to disect scripts and sitcoms to death. (Set-up, set-up, punch. Double punch. Oh, cold open. Surefire scheme.) I gotta say, though, that going to class to watch Designing Women is not a bad way to spend a day.

Punkin's respite worker is an angel. She came early, and I gave her some money to take him out for a burger (or three). When I called later to check in, they were at Chuckee Cheese. He was having a blast! She even got him tokens so he could play games and sit on the little train. Then she brought him home and gave him a bath! AND AND she said I could stay out later than planned if I wanted. If they take her away from me, I may cry.

Why did the elephant cross the road?
He was stapled to the chicken!

that fish has balls!

This is a balloon fish on a balloon fishing pole. Did you know such a thing was even possible? Look at his eyes! A lady at Applebees made it for Punkin while we waited for our food. He did not understand AT ALL what it was or why he couldn't have it ASAP. But he did have fun flinging it about the table and dragging it behind him in the parking lot. But because he kept trying to eat the balloon, I wouldn't let him have it in the car. This caused a ridiculous blowout that lasted at least 7 minutes and resulted in two hits to mommy and numerous hits to himself. At one point he hit himself with one hand pretty hard, and then stopped screaming, looked at his hand, and made a face that read, "Why'd you do that?"
I'll let you see for yourself why Oma said he has balls. Silly Oma.


Now this is the phallic part if you ask me. The pink balls are supposed to be the reel.

Oh we were a sight today. I went in to the grocery store at 7pm. I admit that I was stretching the limits of Punkin's patience and tolerance, especially considering we had just been out to dinner with my parents. I went in for mini marshmallows and chocolate chips. It's for a S'more dessert, okay? I came out with mini marshmallows, three bags of chocolate chips, graham crackers (just in case I didn't have enough), fudge brownie mix (duh), frosting (for the extra graham crackers...if my sugar levels reach dangerous lows???), a bottle of laundry detergent (I saw it was on sale as I chased Punkin down the isle after I placed all of my disguised sugar on the counter) a two year old hanging off my right arm (quite literally hanging--he decided every three steps to lay down on the floor as I desperately grasped his hand), and an open purse (filled with board books, diapers, crayons, a ducky blanket, and a sippy cup) off my left hand (which was also carrying the "food" and the detergent). My saving grace? I went to pick up Punkin, and I accidentally tickled him. He almost jumped out of my arms (which he didn't want to be in anyway) and squealed so loud the lady in front of us turned around and laughed. Lesson One: God's grace and wisdom comes in many forms, including a sense of humor. Lesson Two: No matter how many things you are buying at the store, no matter how short a time you will be there, always ALWAYS opt for a cart.

ith's my birfday an i can'th theel my thoungue

Such a blonde. The day started out with me attempting to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to bring to school for lunch. I thought, "This jelly looks kinda runny." That's cause it was ketchup. (My ketchup bottle and my strawberry jelly bottle look the same, if that helps justify....)
Then, on the way to school, I noticed that Punkin's shoes were on the wrong feet.
THEN, as if it couldn't get worse, I got into my car at my mom's school (I helped her with her book fair this evening--'cause I'm the good daugher) with my friender Laura. She goes, "Why does it smell in here?"
I stopped, "I don't know...it's bad."
"Like bread...that's fermenting."
I turned around in my seat, "OHMYYOUHAVEGOTTOBEKIDDINGME. Look." It was my garbage. In the backseat. I had taken it with me when I left Punkin with the respite worker, and I forgot to throw it in the dumpster on the way out! GROSS!
But all in all it was a fabulous day. It's my mom's birthday today, and we went out (while Punkin had respite) with mutual friends for dinner. She ordered a quessadilla (sp???) that was a BIT spicy. Hence the title of the post. Very fun times.
AND Punkin asked the respite worker to go potty! Go PUNKIN!

lucky 13

Every once in a while I get asked about my current job, and whether I am searching out better prospects. This is the thing: I'm scared! I'm terrified of the longer hours at preschool for Punkin, mostly, and scared of making such a big change in my life. What if I suck at it? And mostly--really truly mostly--I have no clue what I would rather be doing. Other than writing, of course. So here I am, stuck, but really only because I have stuck myself, in a job that I usually love and has good benefits, but pays just enough to scrape by. And I mean scrape. The one thing that motivates me lately is retirement. I do not want to be stuck working a full-time job forever because I don't have enough to live on. Oi.

On to other things. Punkin has asked to go potty THREE times today. And he went each time! He loves getting stickers. He even holds up the piece of paper with all of them on it and says, "pretty!" The only problem I'm seeing is that he insists on being naked. And that takes time. So I'm just not sure if we're always going to be able to remove ALL of the clothing fast enough!

Getting out of bed AGAIN. That's 12 times.

Didn't catch much of Prison Break, which is admittedly slow-paced and violent, because of times 1-10. But I have so much invested in it now! I can't just turn a cold shoulder. So many Monday nights up in smoke, with me wondering how it all turns out. No way. I wish it were on later so I could concentrate.

13.

Would people please stop wearing big white sunglasses? (Shudders)

Lion--I actually saw leggings for sale. At JC Penney! You have no idea how weird that is for me. Only a few hundred yards away, neon crocs were being advertised at a kiosk.

Oh, and the itchiness is gone. I adiosed (sp??) the bandaid. I think I'm allergic to the glue and not the actual bandaid because I use latex gloves at work and have had no issues.

I rationalized eating Whitey's today because I walked there with Punkin. I bought him a cone, but as usual, he refused. Gotta get over that. At least he likes mac 'n cheese as much as his momma!

Punkin's new thing is taking his "boy" to bed with him. Now, before you get all gutter-minded, the boy is a plastic Ronald McDonald. I didn't know what to call it when we first got it, so I just called it a boy. My mom has two of them at her house (okay, we like McDonalds). And he always called them his "boys." Punkin also really likes sticks, which he pronounces "dicks." I know, I know. My dad, being the mature one in the family, related to all of us that while playing outside, Punkin had come to the sad realization that he was unable to carry both the boys and the dick in one hand.

And on that note, good night.

meanwhile i have a bandaid on my...err...chest...and it ITCHES!

I am a member of LWML (Lutheran Women's Missionary League), and we had our first circle meeting at my apartment tonight. The topic of the devotion was "It is well with my soul." We talked about how we find refuge in God in all times and in all places. Or rather how we can and should; I can't say we always do. The point of this is, "It is well with my soul." I really do feel that way. There are tough days. And weeks. But in all of it I come out stronger and more convinced of the love of Christ for me. Just little ol' me. I have food in the fridge. There's gas in the car, and when it runs out I will have money to buy more. Punkin has clothes and toys and a good school. I even get some perks like cable and ice cream pretty much every night. I have good friends and a solid family. I am blessed. I am not wanting, as in needing. I do want things. Lots of things. But all in all, if I had all those things, it wouldn't help me feel more safe and secure. Just have to remember that next time I'm window shopping at the mall....

WARNING: Really Tall Guy--This part is kinda girly.

Now back to the BANDAID from h-e-double-hockey sticks. I had to have a biopsy of a mole on a certain sensitive area yesterday (okay, my right boob), and now I have to wear a bandaid for two weeks. (Not the same bandaid. A new one twice a day. Hehehe) And I've had trouble with them before, but only on my neck and face (No, I don't usually wear bandaids on my face--I've had surgery and the tape leaves me looking like a red and white raccoon.) But this. This is making me nuts. AHHHHH! I wasn't going to talk about the biopsy 'cause it's not a big deal, but the bandaid cannot be ignored. And calling to complain to my mom helped, but it didn't help enough. (Yes, Emily, she did tell me to drink some hot water and take a Tylenol, but she was joking.) And the bandaid is Elmo 'cause that's all I had in the cabinet. So Elmo's gettin' real up close and personal these days. And that's my boob story.

NOTICE: End of girly part.

I used my new stainless cookware, and I was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to clean. And the handle stayed cool the whole time I was cooking. Crazy. Also used my new knife, which is admittedly on the small side (3.5 inches), but it cut through that fresh pineapple like butta..or butter.

WARNING: Haley--Pregnancy Story Alert.

Now my face is starting to itch even though there's no bandaid there. When I was pregnant with Little Man, I started itching internally during my 8th month. Absolutely insatiable itching. Everywhere. Face, hands. legs, arms, back, feet. No one could explain why. A few people thought it was related to my gall bladder issues (I had it removed a week after Punkin was born.), like a salt build-up or something. But my mom and I concluded later that we think it was mostly anxiety related. But regardless of the reason, it was awful. I would wake up with bruises on my upper arms from scratching in my sleep. I'd rather go through labor again two times than go through that. Drove me bonkers.

NOTICE: Pregnancy Story Over.

I 'spose bed is calling. I left my laundry in the apartment complex's laundromat by accident. Totally forgot about it. Hope it's there in the morning. Or rather the afternoon, as I won't be able to get it until then. Eek. My favorite jeans are in there! I'm so absent-minded lately.

There are two flies--the same ones I wrote about a week ago--buzz buzz buzzing everywhere. GRRRR. But they do take my mind off of the ITCH.

SO excited for Friday. Jeans day at work. Have to wear my second favorite pair. Oops. Then it's on to happy hour somewhere. But I'm a little worried about Punkin because he got very upset today with his respite worker. I came home and his face was all blotchy from crying. (pouts) She said he was asking for me. I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride and deep contentment along with the surge of guilt. Did I say I was going to bed?

Have a good one.

happy birthday to me.......it was a month ago, but whatever

My mom and dad gave me some money to get PC stuff for my kit. LOVE it. It was the best ending to a long, tired day. I'm not sure if I will get in trouble for posting these pics or not. Not trying to sell 'em to ya, just showing off!

maybe if i just start typing, i'll think of something interesting to say

I love random titles. I LOVE them. LLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNNNNGGGGGGG titles that have little or nothing to do with the actual substance of the post, or paragraph. Or perhaps they do, but indirectly. I also love fonts and punctuation and the lack of good grammer every once in a while. Virginia Woolf, baby. Toni Morrison. let's just write big old long sentences that cover anywhere from three to seven topics and are glaringly void of even a comma let alone a semi colon. People just love to throw around commas. Makes me nuts. And they love to make possessives when nothing belongs to anybody or anything! Makes me nuts again! But I am a nerd. Lion, however, is much much much oh so much better about The Rules Of It All. I wish I could just walkie-talkie her throughout my day with questions one would normally either take to a dictionary or just guess at. But none of this is really important to you guys. I'm just trying to WRITE. Because I need to. I feel compelled. And I tried to do a fake post to get it all out, but since I knew the whole time that it was fake, it was a bust. I actually had a conversation this past Friday while watching sand volleyball about the incorrect use of good and well. How one is an adverb and one is an adjective. And how I never really learned about the structure of English until I studied German. Dork alert!

In writing courses the instructor always says to just start writing. Anne Lamont, whom I want to give a big hug to and drink a beer with, says to start with a memory. I remember sitting in my grandparents' (dad's) kitchen when I was quite small. The tablecloth was white and red checked, like one you'd take on a picnic. Vinyl, I think. (Or maybe that's just my preconceived ideas mixing in with the memory. ) My grandma has given me something to eat in a fairly large bowl. She is cooking something on the stove, I always think beans cause I never liked them as a child, and my mom is there. We had a back-and-forth about my distaste for the beans. When I have memories, all of my senses come alive. I see the tablecloth, my mom, my round grandma, the screen door open to the yard, the stove. I feel warm with happiness and safety and from the heat of the stove. And I immediately jump to standing near some evergreens when it is much cooler outside and watching rabbits hop about. A man, either my Uncle or my Grandpa, is standing near me and my sister; he is telling us about how the rabbits' fur changes with the seasons. (Is that even true?) I then see myself sitting in a tan lazy boy, all alone in the living room. The grown-ups have converged upstairs to tackle The Stuff In The Attic of my grandparent's home. Or maybe it is my great-grandma's. Isn't it funny how the "important" details (I love those quotations) slide down and down and down in importance as the feelings and the smells and the lessons move up up up? I am sitting in this oversized chair considering the fact that I have been left to my own devices and listening to the chatter and the "oh mygoodnesscanyoubeliveits?" of my parents and aunts and uncles when I hear my father shout and the entire second floor erupt in really loud "ohmygoodnesscanyoubelieveits." He's found a porcelain doll. Later we will take it to be restored. This I remember as well; I think dropping it off. I was spell-bound by this doll for ages. She and her teeny tiny coin purse have been on display in a cabinet my dad bought my mom as either a birthday or anniversary present. There's still a penny inside her coin purse, and a skeleton key for the cabinet--both of which I opened on occassion just for a peek at something beautiful and old.
That cabinet is now home to a doll I bought in Germany and a few pieces of the Berlin Wall from just outside of Berlin. Still not sure how I feel about having picked them up off the ground, but I couldn't let myself leave them. That was a fantastic trip after I got over flipping out. I was going into my junior year of high school, but you'd have thought I was four. I simply couldn't control the monsoon of emotions, the anxiety, the rock sitting in my gut. But after about a day and a half I regained my composure and began to not only have fun, but open myself up spiritually. Something about all that time spent listening to an old language in old buildings in an old country just makes you feel alone with God. One day I started to slip back into the gut-wrenching-almost-losing-it as I walked around a lake town (which was infested with spiders by the way, but that is another story) all by my lonesome when a ladybug landed on my arm. In Germany, ladybugs are a symbol of good luck or well-wishing. I took it as a little pat on the back from the Lord that everything would be okay--and that I could never truly be alone even if I wanted to be. I was standing outside a souvenier shop, wearing a long (no doubt floral print) skirt and a yellow tee. My hair was long then. I must have looked very young and very lost. I remember thinking, "stupid Americans" as our group from across the U.S. visited the very churches and castles where Martin Luther preached and lived. I not only felt young, but I felt the youngness of my country.

I'm so sorry if this is boring, but I simply cannot help myself. And besides, it can't be THAT awful if you are still reading it. I mean, you've stuck it out this long......

Today was good. No big news to report. I rearranged my living room, but Punkin seems okay with it since his beloved chair and TV are still there. I played Bunko tonight. I cannot stand playing games, but this is so fast and so mindless that it doesn't really count. It's once a month with people from work. Punkin had to tag along tonight, and he did very well considering he was out way past his bedtime. He watched Nemo and only got upset towards the end. I didn't win anything, but I did enjoy two chocolate brownies--with chocolate chips.

I am selling my wedding dress if anyone is in need. =) For those of you who are internet friends, I was engaged to Punkin's dad at one time. Our relationship moved at hyper-speed, and we were planning our wedding within a year of meeting each other (before we found out I was pregnant, even). But I came to my senses in enough time to get the deposit back from the photographer and florist (very gracious of them) but not the reception hall (ouch to mom and dad). So we had a big party anyway and it was very fun, actually. We even put stickers on the wedding bubbles and put them in a basket for people! But now I have a wedding dress (with the tags still on it--never even tried on) that was purchased for a bigger, pregnant, and just different me as well as three bridesmaids dresses. So that's my project. Get my mom some of her money back. Jennie gave me a good site, so I think I'll start there. Oh, and the engagement ring? Ya, we won't go there today. Its fake self is in my jewelery box. Very pretty, but not so much real. Found that out after I ended up footing the bill for it. Young, thoughtless, stupid decisions. I won't say young, thoughtless, stupid me, even though I thought of it, because I was never stupid. Kinda like we tell the preschoolers: I still like you, I just don't like the choice you made when you punched Timmy in the nose.

I suppose I'm done now. On to Crickler!

i heart saturdays

My, my Mr. Potato Head. What a big nose you have. He got this out all by himself and put it together all by himself, too.
I can't wait until he's tall enough to use the real vacuum.
Proud boy with a proud mama.

He has being doing more imitative play lately. He always imitates, but it's immediately after seeing something or because he's asked. This is stuff he's observed and then copied much later. Like pretending to be a little teacher. He "sorts" pattern blocks or duplos, saying, "yeyow" and "boo." Then he spits out unintelligible sentences in a teacher voice. And the other day, his teacher was doing a finger play with some little paper frogs. She had to get up to answer the phone, and when she came back he was sitting in her spot trying to lead the class!

We had a very low-key, but busy, day of staying at home. We went out only for apples (he kept asking for them) and diapers (stupid school won't provide them). Some M&Ms also jumped into the cart.

I took a video with my digital camera of him playing, and I accidentally left it on when he asked to sit on the potty. I was so excited! It totally picked us up clapping and hooray-ing in the bathroom. He's been asking me to go more often. I think he realizes it too late, so then he only has to go a little bit. He comes up and lifts his shirt up and very urgently says, "Shirt! please!" For some reason he insists on being naked when he goes potty. Very funny. Especially today when he ended up on the potty with only his shoes and socks on!

tag! i'm it!

Kristie tagged me!

The Rules: Post the rules before you give the facts. Post eight random facts about yourself. At the end of your blog post, you need to tag eight people and list their names. Leave the people you tagged a comment on their blog, letting them know that they've been tagged.

1. I despise being "it" in Hide-and-Seek and "Tag." (Except blog tag, in which case it is fun and complimentary and entirely void of physical labor.) I have no desire to find people who are trying not to be found. Call me lazy. Call me uninquisitive. Call me too ADHD to stick to one very straight-forward, yet mind-numbingly difficult task until completion. And Tag. Geez. Sounds like a game a strung-out kindergarten teacher made up so her kids would exhaust themselves and take a nap. "Let's all run around in a big field and tap each other on the shoulders." She's brilliant! A close second, The Quiet Game. But I do love when kids yell out, "I'm being quiet!" or "I'm not talking!"

2. There will never be a bathtub clean enough for me. Unless maybe it is brand-new. Even hotel ones are iffy. I would prefer to Clorox it first. And wear my bathing suit. I don't know what it is about tubs, but it's getting worse as I get older. Blech. Eww. I have much to say, but too sensitive a gag reflex to say it.

3. I still sleep with a special blanket. It's too big to take out of town with me, but if I could, I would. Love me my blanky. The original yellow blanket was lost at The Holiday Inn. This one is a big blue quilt that my mom took to college.

4. I eat ice cream almost every day. I think a person's favorite says something about them.
Mint Chocolate Chip = classic, yet innovative. cool.
Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough = likes comfort food. is known to grill out a lot. would rather eat plain cookie dough, but was told it was unsanitary.
Double Fudge Brownie = no time for toppings. i need the chocolate efficiently and tastefully
Coffee or Butter Pecan = gross, err, sophisticated palate. would prefer their ice cream with pie.
Vanilla = maybe they like toppings???? enjoys ice cream mostly for it's texture

5. I have no idea what I want to be when I grow up. I have a minor in Women's Studies and a major in both English and History. Got a job for me?

6. When the Democratic pollers called to ask who I would vote for, I said Barack Obama or John Edwards.

7. I'm about to have some Cookie Dough ice cream with Hershey's Syrup. I don't like the store brand syrup. Edy's Double Churned--not bad at all. I do NOT do diet food. I can totally taste the Splenda. But this is yum-mee.

8. The pool water incident my sister refers to was the fault of someone who shall remain nameless but who loves to egg people on and make them drink too much wine and then get the hiccups and then the only natural thing to do is to turn away from their friends and duck down in the pool and sip a teensy bit of water in a desperate attempt to rid themselves of said hiccups.

Now tagging:

Lion
Lola
Drea
Jennie
Boo
D
Alice

cheap shot

From my sister (who is not the good daughter because she had a little too much to drink a little too close to dinnertime and called my dad from the party bus--ahem--did you think I didn't know???)

Anonymous has left a new comment on your post, "tigger goes for the jagular."Again, the Good Daughter debate. Who spent hours and hours of their formative years creating bulletin boards in said parents' rooms while the other child pretended to talk to invisible people and dance on the desks?

so much to say today

He LOVES this stupid box. I have no idea why he has a pacifier--I didn't even really see it until I took the picture.
I always make sure to snap a photo of something really unsafe but totally cute before telling him to stop.
The second chair is for me. What a thoughtful little guy.

I don't remember really going through a nesting period while I was pregnant. (Jimmy, I am talking about when a woman is about 8-9 months along and she goes nuts cleaning, organizing, and overall preparing for the baby.) So I think I am going through a very delayed nesting period now. Particularly this weekend. I have cleaned every surface. I moved the furniture to vacuumm. (Why can I not ever spell that word right?) I dusted. I want SO BADLY to clean the carpets. And if I had a shop vac, and the humidity dropped a few thousand percents, I'd be all over the car. I have BAKED twice. TODAY. I made cookies this morning and banana bread this afternoon. But, take a sigh of relief, as I am still the same old girl. I totally forgot about the second batch of cookies, and I have no idea how long the bread was in the oven or if I even set it to the correct temperature.

And now on a completely different note:

I feel a big need to talk about an elephant in the room. Last week I mentioned that I needed a wingperson. I didn't feel, at the time, like getting into the big D topic. Dating. Bleh. So I said "person." Clearly I meant I need a wingMAN. But I don't want to date. I mean, I don't want to go through a whole bunch of people trying to figure out who is right with me. What I want is to meet the person. I want what God wants. A partner. Someone to help me be a parent, because we were not meant to do this alone. It is too hard.

A friend once asked me how I felt about dating "now that you know about Punkin's disability. I mean, it's hard enough to find a guy as a single mom, but then having a kid with issues...." At the time I calmly replied that I hadn't even thought about it. Cause the question was a bit rude, even though she didn't mean it that way. And because I was too busy keeping my head above water with a newborn and The News and just making it every day. But now I do think about it. And I think I'm ready to consider it. I've thought about the "poor single mom disabled kid" thing, and I think it's a little bit crap.

There is some sacrifice involved. But they're the same sacrifices I have made, so I don't see it as insurmountable. It's like the Holland Metaphor. It isn't what you had planned. You always think, "single, free to move around, tiny apartment, ice cream for dinner" evolves into "married, free to move around, slightly larger living quarters if you're lucky, chinese take out for dinner." But in this case, there is no "married without kids."

But the right person, should he exist, sees a ready-made family. Sees the deep appreciation we have for those who appreciate and accept us for who we are. Which really isn't THAT different from what I thought before, although I'd like to think I'm a bit wiser now. Even if I am still only 25 years young.

Haley talked a few weeks ago on her blog about the loneliness of motherhood and pregnancy. I definitely identify with that sentiment. When you're pregnant, there are quite a few limitations on your lifestyle that keep you from engaging with your surroundings in the same way as the people around you through diet and daily activities. And when your children are young, your'e leaving your company to provide for them. To feed them, to tuck them back into bed, to find them a toy, to comfort them when they tumble. And I imagine that while the specifics will change, the basic notion of putting your child before yourself continues as both of you age. But again there is such a sweet side. Having the opportunity to be alone with your child during such tender moments. It's too bad that those moments are instead so often a test of patience. =) It's so difficult to calm down, step back, and see the situation for what it is. I am working hard on trying to be present with Punkin. It's so easy to disassociate from him because of all of our "screen time." We need to get out of the rut before life passes by. Because the rut only adds to the loneliness. This all written on an evening when he put himself to bed at 6:10. I'll write again tomorrow when he's up until 10. =)

tigger goes for the jagular

No kidding, that was the title of "My Friends Tigger and Pooh" this morning. A jagular, to me, looked like a jaguar. And Tigger was convinced for a while that he was one. Anyway, couldn't help but snicker at the title. I mean really. Who let this get by their desk?

Now.....are you ready for the greatest miracle in modern technology since the mousepad/notepad combination???? Here it is ...........

The Tapeler.

My mom said they got a whole case of 'em at her school, so I snagged one. Wanna know what's really funny? The drug is for ADHD. HA!

Sunday School starts next week! Who's excited about dropping off their little ball of energy and attitude with a bunch of other little balls of energy and attitude and one poor, blindly optimistic teacher before skipping off to church ALONE (or with other grown-ups)????

My mommy gave me a really pretty necklace for my birthday, which I wanted to show you, but I just couldn't get a good picture. It's a rectangular slide. Mother of pearl set in silver. And it's reversible. The other side has metal work overlaying the stone. I know, the tapeler got mentioned before the necklace..... But it's like those really fat pens that have like 10 colors in them so you only have to carry one thing, but it has multiple applications. I love me some pens. Anyone up for Office Max? The best place is the student store in Iowa City. They have an entire isle of individual pens for sale, organized by color and thickness of point in little clear bins. It's breathtaking, really.

I'm gonna order me some Pampered Chef business cards so I can look official.

I think that's all I have today. I'll try to put up some Punkin pictures again soon. Nothing that astounding has happened. OOOO--but yesterday I did LOVE the new portable DVD player. Punkin sat and watched it while I helped my mom in the library (cause I'm the good daughter). It saved the day, Aunt Kim!!