Oh Happy Day!

Today is the day Ms. Jae gave birth to her little boy. Weighing in at 8 lbs. 4 oz...he's a little chunk. He was welcomed by his mommy, daddy, and big sister earlier today.

Join me as we congratulate her on saying GOODBYE...goodbye to heartburn, goodbye to the belly, goodbye to peeing your pants when you laugh, sneeze, jump, or cough,
goodbye to having tiny little feet poking your ribcage, goodbye to puking up your toenails, goodbye to not knowing if your water broke or you just wet your panties a little bit, goodbye to anticipating the day of labor and not knowing when the hell it will happen, goodbye to the emotional rollercoaster of pregnancy-induced hormones, goodbye to having no clothes that fit, goodbye to doggie-style as the ONLY manageable way, goodbye to middle of the night cravings, goodbye to the nesting phase, goodbye to ligament pain, and goodbye to pregnancy as of 11:50 a.m. on January 31, 2006!

And say, "HELLO sweet little boy!"
(insert new picture here...seeing as how i don't have one yet, use your imagination. I am sure he is an absolute angel because I'm already in love with him!)

Happy Birthday Little Man!

Dear Bud-ah,

Today is your third birthday! Can you believe it?! Three years ago today you came screaming into the world! You peed on the doctor (after I doused him for breaking my water during a contraction), and you were absolutely perfect. I held you in my arms in the delivery room for 45 minutes. You kept tasting the air with your tongue. It must have felt so different to you.

You spent the next several months sleeping in my arms. I cuddled you more than you'll ever know. Now you are turning into a little man. Your baby fat is getting thinner; you are growing taller. You have come a long way over the past year, and you are truly an amazing little boy!

I love to hear your sweet voice each night as you say, "mommy, mommy, daddy...can you tuck MY in?" And I love the way you go running through the house yelling a quote from your favorite movie (Spirit), "IN A TIME WHEN HORSES RAN FREEEEE!" Actually, it doesn't matter where you are when you run...you'll say it! The Tigger-on-wheels is your favorite rage of late. You get going on that thing SO FAST you can literally do doughnuts in our livingroom! Sometimes you get so wound up that you evidently go bezerk. No truly, it's as though there is so much energy contained in that little 31 lb. body that you simply overflow with vigor and excitement. I get a kick out of you!

And I will never forget how much I love to see your quiet smile when you stand beside my bed each morning (before the sun comes up), and I put you back where you were for the first several months of your life...in my arms, right where you belong. Now and Always.

I love you so much, Bud-ah.

On Vacation...

Since everyone's blog seems to be changing colors, I decided I wanted in too. However, you all know that I couldn't do it without my blog bitch (eh hem, I mean blog diva) so off to Barefoot's we went.

After chillin' for a while, I made the mistake of divulging my-middle-of-the-night impulses to hijack Just Me's website and post something utterly ridiculous. To which the light in Erika's eyes began to glimmer with excitement! (have I told you how much they BOTH love to do interior design...and how absolutely disgusting it is that they hoard Pottery Barn magazines and dream up crap to do with a perfectly good room?!) Well, just in case I haven't...they BOTH love to do interior design and it is absolutely disgusting the way they hoard Pottery Barn magazines and dream up crap to do with a perfectly good room!

So I did the only thing I could do...give in to the urges and redesign her blog!! It was so awesome! Go take a look because at least for today, I am on vacation!

click here!

Lie to Me!

Growing up, the word migraine was very common around our house. My mom and dad both had terrible migraines, and it was quite a daily thing to hear, "mommy has a bad head," or "daddy needs to sleep off this headache." In fact, I remember learning to give my mom a shot by practicing on an orange when I was eight years old. (I am pretty good at it too, if I do say so myself!)

Anyway, seeing as how both my parents get migraines (and this kind of thing tends to be genetic)...I have feared my entire life that I would end up with migraines as well. My brothers somehow escaped the curse, and up until this point in my life...so have I.

For the past week or so I have had a headache. It's not always pounding, but it is always there. Just creeping in the front of my head somewhere. I'm always afraid to set the damn thing off, so I keep the noise levels down, I keep the lights dim, and I do everything in my power not to upset the demon lurking just inside my skull. (NO COMMENTS, thank you very much)

I called my dad this morning to get more details about this migraine curse. I explained my symptoms. (last night I felt like I was going to vomit because it hurt so bad, this morning it's better but still there, I'm afraid of making it worse, Tylenol and Ibuprofen didn't touch it) I asked if this was similar to what he's experienced in the past. And.he.said.yes.

You know what?! Today would have been a good day to lie to me.

This is More for Me Than for You

My to do list for the morning: (all before 1 p.m.)

1. bathe the pee-soaked baby
2. take the baby out of the poop-infested bathtub
3. put the baby in the other bathtub to wash off
4. remove the baby from the second poop-infested bathtub
5. wash the baby in the kitchen sink
6. clean up the little turds left in both bathtubs
7. wash all sheets and silkies (*for those of you not familiar with the silky--aka "bank-el-et", aka "blankeh!", aka "sarah" and "shishi"--it is the silk blankets my children are attached to more than life itself!)
8. snatch silkies from crying children as they watch in horror what is about to become of them
9. try to distract three munchkins from screaming in anguish for their silkies
10. take all three to the doctor because Tiny has another sinus infection
11. pay $60 for a bottle of antibiotics that must be forced down Tiny's throat twice a day for TWENTY DAYS, then wait in Target for over an hour for the damn prescription to be filled
12. put three cranky, miserable little children down for a much needed (much deserved) nap
13. drink a Pepsi...a LARGE fountain caffeinated Pepsi, relax, and breathe...

*all munchkins are safely in their beds, all munchkins and their silkies are accounted for and doing well. thanks for asking.

Firetrucks Have BRIGHT Lights, and other good to know info.

Ok, Saturday night was a little...bright.

Around midnight, an alarm starts sounding off somewhere in the house. It is LOUD! I finally track it down, and our Carbon Monoxide /Explosive Gas monitor is flashing 217. (whatever the hell THAT means!) I hit "reset," and the damn thing goes off again and again. While I'm desperately trying to find the owner's manual, my husband takes out the batteries so it will stop piercing our eardrums with it's killer screeching. He says, "ok, so the alarm goes off...now what the hell are we supposed to do?" um...I have no clue.

Owner's manual: CALL the fire department.

the firechief: "what seems to be the problem?"
me: "the alarm is flashing, but I don't smell any gas."
the firechief: "get everyone outside and wait for us."
me: "uh...ok"

Now before you all start getting too excited, there was no gas leak. There was no carbon monoxide reading in the house. There was no fire. The firetruck pulled up to our house with lights EVERYWHERE! Flashing, swirling, blinking like it was having a massive seizure...all at midnight on our quiet little street. I have no doubt you could see this mother from space! It was BAD.

The firemen go searching through our house with little monitors, checking outlets, gas lines, the attic...they come back to say they have found our problem. Plugged in next to the monitor is a Glade Plug-in. Yes, that's right. The glade plug-in emits a small amount of gas, and over time, the monitor picks that up and alerts the entire neighborhood that you are "faking it". I don't really have a clean house, I just try to fake it with Glade plug-ins. Niiiiiice.

me: "so I got you out in the middle of the night for a Glade plug-in?"
the firechief: it appears that way, ma'am. Have a good night.
me: "uh....ok"

* these pics are from my camera phone...we loaded up the three munchkins and damn dog into the van while we waited for "the gas" to be aired out. No problem though, we just plugged in our DVD player and had a midnight party.

Just look at those eyes!!

Aw, Crap.

We've only met Mr. Neighbor a couple of times since we moved here over a year ago. He only has one child, and we rarely see them around. The other day, I got my mail...started opening it fast and furiously...(you know the type?--quick just give me the bad news, how much do I owe?)

A credit card statement for $7,000! WTH?! We only have that card as a backup, and it has a zero balance! I called the company, only to find out I had opened Mr. Neighbor's mail. AW, CRAP!

So I go over to Mr. Neighbor's house (he's out washing the car with his daughter), and I sheepishly hand him the opened piece of mail. I tried explaining the situation to him, but I was stumbling over my words. I said something like this:

"I was just opening my mail because we have a credit card by the same company. And when I saw the balance I freaked out because to my knowledge, we never used it." [GULP--insert foot!] you should have seen his eyes pop out of his head when I said that! So I try to fix it with, "I called the credit card company only to find out I had opened someone else's mail...I am so sorry." [GULP--again! Did I really just admit to being so stupid? Umm...yep!]

mental note: run away and never go back.

p.s. guess who caught me a few days later walking the dog at 10 am in my terry cloth bathrobe?

More Good to Know (99, 92, 44, 82, 112)

99. when taking a really hot shower, wash your body first, then your hair (and RINSE), shave if you must...and then you can relax and enjoy the hot water. other wise it will go cold and you will still have greasy hair...

92. next Christmas, remember the following:
-fruit loops on a tree will get eaten by the dog.
-presents under a tree will get opened by the baby each day and must be rewrapped each night.

44. If the door won't close easily...(kinda like something is being smashed) THEN DON'T FORCE IT. Chances are that the marshmallow smashing in the crevice is actually a lizard. Then you're husband will tease you because you jump at every piece of dust that floats by.

*and three months later, the plastered lizard guts will still be stuck to the side of your door because neither one of you want to scrape it off, AND you can get Barefoot to throw up a little in the back of her throat when you show it to her!!

82. Do not sniff your daughter's underwear to check if it's clean or dirty. Just assume that they are dirty and toss 'em into the laundary basket.

112. When publishing a draft, be sure to change the date to 2006, otherwise the post will be lost in the deep, dark archives and you'll have to go searching for the damn thing!!

My Son is a One Man Show

My little boy (who will be three this month and has not yet attempted potty training) is truly a one man show. Not only will he answer his own questions, but he'll carry on a conversation by himself from the back seat. We call him Bud-uh, (not Buddha, but "bud" as in buddy and "duh" as in bubb-ah, my daughter kept getting buddy and bubba mixed up, so the nickname Bud-uh evolved!)

Anyway, while at grandma and grandpa's house for Christmas, my little bud-uh boy was about to get in the tub and (consequently) was completely naked. He was waiting patiently until my husband heard a panic in his voice, "daddy, I farted and I spilled!"

...to which my husband looked down, and he had peed on the floor! L.M.A.O.!!

the sweet part of this story? He was so incredibly confused by the realization of this newfound bodily function; he just stared down at the puddle on the floor with a look of amazement on his face..."k, i have clothes on, i fart, i'm ok. i have no clothes on, i fart, and i spill...hmmm"

p.s. someone googled "poopie diaper" and found my blog.
HOW PROUD AM I?! Rock on!

Things I Have Learned in the Past 24 Hours

We'll just start at the top and work our way down...

My children have sinus infections.
Sinus infections lead to a mucous drip in the back of your throat.
Mucous dripping in the back of your throat leads to a LOT of coughing.
A LOT of coughing leads to much vomiting.
Much vomiting leads to LOADS of laundry.

...and guess what else?! Laundry.does.NOT.fold.itself! WTF?!

K, what else have I learned today?

As of January 1, 2006, your insurance premiums start over. That means you are back to fulfilling an individual deductible for everyone in your household before insurance will kick in.

If you are indeed starting over, then I promise your baby's medicine will cost $56 and your insurance will cover $2.47 of that cost. [insert your own choice of bad names *here*, as I am not about to waste the one `mothereffer' I get this month]

*I am trying to cut back on the swears, but I REFUSE to cut back on the PG-13 movies (Sunshiney Sister in-law!) *

And the new cough syrup the doctor gave us (stronger, more potent, viscous and sticky crap) has made my baby HYPER. That's right, not "drowsy" as the warning sticker advises. She is still in her bed, after an hour of NOT sleeping, and now she is SINGING!

*if your baby is singing "poo poo! poo POO!" from her not-so-sleepy naptime slumber, you should probably go in with gloves, a change of clothes, and a change of sheets, blankets, and toys.