This one might be kind of obscure, except to those of us who hung out together in college. I remember that you couldn't get into Jared's Tahoe without either listening to Aerosmith (STEVEN TYLER PJ'S! STEVEN TYLER PJ'S!), or this song: Strokin' by Clarence Carter. We knew every word, and I still do. Who knew there was a video?
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Pull Over! That Ass Too Fat!
It's time for a weight loss update. Since I started my diet/exercise on New Year's Eve, I have lost 9 pounds and dropped a pants size. My arms, legs, and abs are getting really toned. As a side effect, my knees and elbows are effing killing me, but I know I've got to push through the pain and lose the weight, because my mom has arthritis, and I'm going to do everything in my power to not have to deal with that.
It really is more than a diet and adding exercise, though. It's more of a lifestyle change. I have realized that I was eating huge quantities of food that wasn't good for me. I wasn't active AT ALL, except for when I had to be with the kids. I walked a lot in the summer, but that doesn't do me much good in the winter. Plus, my body had been truly stressed from having three kids in five years. I now know that I have to eat right and exercise for the rest of my life to make sure that I'm here for my kids, and be able to be active right along with them. Plus, it's wearing off on Russ. Of course, he's a man, so he just cuts down on a few different things, and has lost the same amount of weight as me. Grr. Male metabolism can kiss my ass. Besides that, I've suffered from postpartum depression, and exercise boosts your endorphins, and I feel so much better and more positive, even with all the stressful CRAP I've been going through.
As far as exercise goes, I've got a lot of the Biggest Loser DVD's. I totally want Bob Harper to be my gay husband. I want Jillian Michaels to break her leg, but she is just trying to help. Although I don't need her yelling at me when I'm trying to exercise, "If my 400 pound Biggest Loser contestants can do this, so can you! Don't stop." Uh, suck it, Jill. If I want to be lazy on your 3,000 jumping jacks, I will be. Bob's much more positive. My favorite DVD is Bob's Boot Camp. At first, I couldn't even get through the 20 minute Level 1 Workout. Now I find it easy. Level 2 is a bit rough for me, but it's getting easier, and now I even look forward to Level 3. On Tuesday nights, I get on my elliptical while I watch the Biggest Loser for inspiration (because I don't want to EVER look like that pink girl. She looks like she ate another contestant), and then do some ab work with a medicine ball. My arms are getting pretty toned, but they have a long ways to go. My legs have always been muscular, and I can't find any fat on them except my upper thigh. My ass is not quite so pancakey. Okay, it's still as flat as can be, but I know if I keep doing my squats and lunges, I may be able to find a pair of jeans that doesn't hang off of my butt. Someday. My abs are getting tighter. Those poor muscles were shot with all the pregnancies, and I can tell that I'm losing belly fat. I want to add in some other exercises, and would love to join a gym, but I hate being away from my family, so I just have to mix it up with different kinds of DVD's. My goal is to get in good enough shape with the DVD's that when it starts getting warmer that on Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday when I don't have to get the kids ready to go to school or my parents' house, I'm going to jog a few miles around the marina or our subdivision. I've never been a runner, so that's my goal. Then maybe I'll do some 5K's with Bitty (I am in no condition to do that now. In fact, the thought just made me shudder and have an anxiety attack). Anyway, I keep track of my calories burned, and hopefully it's enough to lose 2-3 pounds a week, which is what I've been doing so far. My dream is to buy a Bodybugg armband (like the Biggest Loser contestants wear) to measure how many calories I've burned to make sure I'm working hard enough, but those puppies are $400.
As far as my diet goes, it's completely changed. I'll admit it: I used to be a pig. P. I. G. (Person Ingesting Garbage). At Jersey Mike's I'd split a giant sub with the girls. At Burger King, I'd ask for extra Mayo on my chicken sandwich. I think some days I had twice as many calories in one meal than I should have eaten all day. Now, I'm very conscious of what I put in my body, and keep track of everything on a website. For breakfast, I either have a spinach/mushroom omelette with black coffee (with Splenda in it - I'm not an animal), or a Starbucks Skinny Vanilla Latte. I know the Starbucks doesn't sound very dietetic, but it's nonfat milk, sugar free syrup, and it has a lot of protein, antioxidants, and calcium in it, and it fills me up. So suck it. For lunch at work, I have a Greek salad that I premake on Monday nights for the whole week. It's got romaine lettuce, tomatoes, red onion, cucumbers, black olives, and feta cheese with a dressing consisting of olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and oregano. I usually hate salads, unless they're dripping in caesar or ranch and have a shitload of cheese, but I like this one. For dinner, I usually have baked chicken with salsa on it and some vegetables (I bake the chicken at the beginning of the week to save time). My snacks consist of Laughing Cow Light Swiss cheese on reduced fat triscuits, apples, Jello Mousse (sugar free and only 60 calories), and peanut butter. I'm trying to up my protein (since I tend to not like to eat meat), so I'm supplementing my diet with the Biggest Loser whey protein, especially after workouts.
I'll tell you: I really feel good. I'm not sure I've felt this good in years. When Zoey's crying, I can pick her up without even feeling it (she's a heavy little thing). I can keep up with the house cleaning, and instead of letting the dishes pile up in the sink so I can lay on the couch, I load it as I go. I tend to not sit down too much until it's almost bedtime. I can run around with Quinnie without getting too winded, and I'm looking forward to warmer weather so we can get on the trampoline. I have a lot more energy to do things with the kids, and hopefully when it's warmer, we'll be a lot more active. I can't wait until we get our tax money back so we can get our Wii and get the whole family moving with some of the games.
Basically I'm pretty damn pleased with myself, and when I get down to that size 8/10, y'all are totally going shopping with me.
It really is more than a diet and adding exercise, though. It's more of a lifestyle change. I have realized that I was eating huge quantities of food that wasn't good for me. I wasn't active AT ALL, except for when I had to be with the kids. I walked a lot in the summer, but that doesn't do me much good in the winter. Plus, my body had been truly stressed from having three kids in five years. I now know that I have to eat right and exercise for the rest of my life to make sure that I'm here for my kids, and be able to be active right along with them. Plus, it's wearing off on Russ. Of course, he's a man, so he just cuts down on a few different things, and has lost the same amount of weight as me. Grr. Male metabolism can kiss my ass. Besides that, I've suffered from postpartum depression, and exercise boosts your endorphins, and I feel so much better and more positive, even with all the stressful CRAP I've been going through.
As far as exercise goes, I've got a lot of the Biggest Loser DVD's. I totally want Bob Harper to be my gay husband. I want Jillian Michaels to break her leg, but she is just trying to help. Although I don't need her yelling at me when I'm trying to exercise, "If my 400 pound Biggest Loser contestants can do this, so can you! Don't stop." Uh, suck it, Jill. If I want to be lazy on your 3,000 jumping jacks, I will be. Bob's much more positive. My favorite DVD is Bob's Boot Camp. At first, I couldn't even get through the 20 minute Level 1 Workout. Now I find it easy. Level 2 is a bit rough for me, but it's getting easier, and now I even look forward to Level 3. On Tuesday nights, I get on my elliptical while I watch the Biggest Loser for inspiration (because I don't want to EVER look like that pink girl. She looks like she ate another contestant), and then do some ab work with a medicine ball. My arms are getting pretty toned, but they have a long ways to go. My legs have always been muscular, and I can't find any fat on them except my upper thigh. My ass is not quite so pancakey. Okay, it's still as flat as can be, but I know if I keep doing my squats and lunges, I may be able to find a pair of jeans that doesn't hang off of my butt. Someday. My abs are getting tighter. Those poor muscles were shot with all the pregnancies, and I can tell that I'm losing belly fat. I want to add in some other exercises, and would love to join a gym, but I hate being away from my family, so I just have to mix it up with different kinds of DVD's. My goal is to get in good enough shape with the DVD's that when it starts getting warmer that on Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday when I don't have to get the kids ready to go to school or my parents' house, I'm going to jog a few miles around the marina or our subdivision. I've never been a runner, so that's my goal. Then maybe I'll do some 5K's with Bitty (I am in no condition to do that now. In fact, the thought just made me shudder and have an anxiety attack). Anyway, I keep track of my calories burned, and hopefully it's enough to lose 2-3 pounds a week, which is what I've been doing so far. My dream is to buy a Bodybugg armband (like the Biggest Loser contestants wear) to measure how many calories I've burned to make sure I'm working hard enough, but those puppies are $400.
As far as my diet goes, it's completely changed. I'll admit it: I used to be a pig. P. I. G. (Person Ingesting Garbage). At Jersey Mike's I'd split a giant sub with the girls. At Burger King, I'd ask for extra Mayo on my chicken sandwich. I think some days I had twice as many calories in one meal than I should have eaten all day. Now, I'm very conscious of what I put in my body, and keep track of everything on a website. For breakfast, I either have a spinach/mushroom omelette with black coffee (with Splenda in it - I'm not an animal), or a Starbucks Skinny Vanilla Latte. I know the Starbucks doesn't sound very dietetic, but it's nonfat milk, sugar free syrup, and it has a lot of protein, antioxidants, and calcium in it, and it fills me up. So suck it. For lunch at work, I have a Greek salad that I premake on Monday nights for the whole week. It's got romaine lettuce, tomatoes, red onion, cucumbers, black olives, and feta cheese with a dressing consisting of olive oil, lemon juice, salt, and oregano. I usually hate salads, unless they're dripping in caesar or ranch and have a shitload of cheese, but I like this one. For dinner, I usually have baked chicken with salsa on it and some vegetables (I bake the chicken at the beginning of the week to save time). My snacks consist of Laughing Cow Light Swiss cheese on reduced fat triscuits, apples, Jello Mousse (sugar free and only 60 calories), and peanut butter. I'm trying to up my protein (since I tend to not like to eat meat), so I'm supplementing my diet with the Biggest Loser whey protein, especially after workouts.
I'll tell you: I really feel good. I'm not sure I've felt this good in years. When Zoey's crying, I can pick her up without even feeling it (she's a heavy little thing). I can keep up with the house cleaning, and instead of letting the dishes pile up in the sink so I can lay on the couch, I load it as I go. I tend to not sit down too much until it's almost bedtime. I can run around with Quinnie without getting too winded, and I'm looking forward to warmer weather so we can get on the trampoline. I have a lot more energy to do things with the kids, and hopefully when it's warmer, we'll be a lot more active. I can't wait until we get our tax money back so we can get our Wii and get the whole family moving with some of the games.
Basically I'm pretty damn pleased with myself, and when I get down to that size 8/10, y'all are totally going shopping with me.
What's wrong with me?
Anyone know what the hell is wrong with me?
I'm not saying that there necessarily is something wrong with me, but lately I've come across a few people who seem to have a major problem with me, and think that I'm an evil shrew, but I'm totally not. At least I don't think I am. I think I question it because I've never really encountered anyone else who didn't like me. If I did, they were very good at covering it. I think that I'm "friends" with everyone I've ever been friends with, and actually with a lot of people that I wasn't necessarily friendly with before, but I am now. So what's the dilly, yo?
I do have a biting wit dripping with sarcasm. If someone says or does something stupid, I sometimes can't hide the disgust on my face. Sorry, but think before you speak or do something, and you won't see the poopy face. Jen saw a picture of Cooper pooping and said, "Hey I know that face! That's the face you give me when I say I've never heard of a band you like." Guilty. I will also say something smartass to you. It's just how I roll.
I come from a long line of fiery Irish people, and if someone pisses us off in the family, we'll have a knockdown fight, and then 20 minutes later, we'll all be fine and buy each other a beer. It's much better to get issues out of the way, then to let them fester and become huge insurmountable problems. For instance: if you see a little bit of mildew on your shower tile, and you think, "Oh, I'll just clean that off when there's a little bit more. Not enough to worry about yet." Then you keep telling yourself that. Then it gets to the point that you're on your hands and knees covered in bleach trying to scrub the grossness out of your grout with a toothbrush. You can't let things go, because they'll just get worse. Nothing gets better without some sort of action. At the same time, if someone says something about a member of the family, you will fight to the death to defend them. Just the way a family works. Or at least, that's the way it's supposed to go.
My kids are infinitely more important to me than anyone else in this world. So, if someone slights one of them, you will be on my shit list FOR LIFE. Period. Their happiness is paramount to me and Russ, as well as their education. Quinn's going to be one of those poor kids that has perfect attendance because unless she's got a fever or is puking, she's going to school. It's too easy to get behind, and she can't miss any of her schoolwork. I'll tell you though: I get so many compliments on my kids. They're always the sweetest, most well behaved, beautiful children. I'm not just saying it (okay, maybe I am), but I have too many strangers coming up to me in public complimenting them. We have little old ladies on our street stop their car to tell us how gorgeous our kids are. Now, if only those pictures of the kids that I submitted to Regis and Kelly's beautiful baby contest would get picked for a scholarship, we'd be golden....
I get a little bit nosy. I admit it. But only when it affects me or my family personally. Russ is WAY worse than me. You should see him when the Trashtastics across the street are outside. His nose is stuck through the blinds, wondering aloud which baby daddy is sleeping over tonight. He's our very own Gladys Kravitz. I could care less. I do care when it involves us. I want to know what's going on, why we didn't know about it, and what we can do to fix it.
I am a little judgmental, but only towards people that are judgmental towards others. Glass houses and all that. For the most part, I don't judge my friends. If they've made a bad decision in their life, I try to help them move past it and become better, as I'd hope they'd do the same for me. But when you're someone that calls people names and thinks they know people when they truly don't, then it's on.
I may be a little too obsessive over my online activities. Here's the deal though: I've made a lot of friends in my life, between high school, college, and work. A lot of these people are from different countries and have moved all over the world. I'm phone-phobic and refuse to call people unless I really have to, so the internet is my only means of staying in contact with them. I like a lot of the games on Facebook too. What does it hurt to build my own cafe and farm and apartment in yoville and have my own pet? Other than taking up WAY too much time, but I have nothing to do at work anyway. Besides that, I love to write my blog, and I'm using Facebook to advertise it a bit, and maybe one day, I'll get a following that will translate to a book deal which will mean that I will replace Gayle as Oprah's bestie, and I'll get my own Sirius radio show on her channel. Okay, maybe I'm reaching a bit far there, but a girl can dream, can't she? I'm a little too free with accepting friend requests, especially when I know it's a bad idea to be in contact with someone, but I do it to keep trouble down and not hurt anyone's feelings. In those situations, I try to leave it alone and not request them and not really communicate at all, but somehow it always manages to turn around on me and take a huge bite out of my ass.
Yup, everything's my fault. Once I realize that, maybe everyone can just move on and leave me alone. Yes, I caused the hole in the ozone layer. It was from all the aqua net I used in sixth grade when I had that perm. I caused the nation's credit card debt when I was late on one of my payments. The housing crisis is my fault because I got someone else's mortgage payment book in the mail and threw it away. I caused the war in Iraq because I totally thought Saddam was making anthrax. The earthquake in Haiti? Oh, I thought those tectonic plates needed to be smoothed out a bit. 9/11? I gave the hijackers a buddy pass for their flights. Is there anything else you would like to blame on me? I'm taking reservations.
I'm not saying that there necessarily is something wrong with me, but lately I've come across a few people who seem to have a major problem with me, and think that I'm an evil shrew, but I'm totally not. At least I don't think I am. I think I question it because I've never really encountered anyone else who didn't like me. If I did, they were very good at covering it. I think that I'm "friends" with everyone I've ever been friends with, and actually with a lot of people that I wasn't necessarily friendly with before, but I am now. So what's the dilly, yo?
I do have a biting wit dripping with sarcasm. If someone says or does something stupid, I sometimes can't hide the disgust on my face. Sorry, but think before you speak or do something, and you won't see the poopy face. Jen saw a picture of Cooper pooping and said, "Hey I know that face! That's the face you give me when I say I've never heard of a band you like." Guilty. I will also say something smartass to you. It's just how I roll.
I come from a long line of fiery Irish people, and if someone pisses us off in the family, we'll have a knockdown fight, and then 20 minutes later, we'll all be fine and buy each other a beer. It's much better to get issues out of the way, then to let them fester and become huge insurmountable problems. For instance: if you see a little bit of mildew on your shower tile, and you think, "Oh, I'll just clean that off when there's a little bit more. Not enough to worry about yet." Then you keep telling yourself that. Then it gets to the point that you're on your hands and knees covered in bleach trying to scrub the grossness out of your grout with a toothbrush. You can't let things go, because they'll just get worse. Nothing gets better without some sort of action. At the same time, if someone says something about a member of the family, you will fight to the death to defend them. Just the way a family works. Or at least, that's the way it's supposed to go.
My kids are infinitely more important to me than anyone else in this world. So, if someone slights one of them, you will be on my shit list FOR LIFE. Period. Their happiness is paramount to me and Russ, as well as their education. Quinn's going to be one of those poor kids that has perfect attendance because unless she's got a fever or is puking, she's going to school. It's too easy to get behind, and she can't miss any of her schoolwork. I'll tell you though: I get so many compliments on my kids. They're always the sweetest, most well behaved, beautiful children. I'm not just saying it (okay, maybe I am), but I have too many strangers coming up to me in public complimenting them. We have little old ladies on our street stop their car to tell us how gorgeous our kids are. Now, if only those pictures of the kids that I submitted to Regis and Kelly's beautiful baby contest would get picked for a scholarship, we'd be golden....
I get a little bit nosy. I admit it. But only when it affects me or my family personally. Russ is WAY worse than me. You should see him when the Trashtastics across the street are outside. His nose is stuck through the blinds, wondering aloud which baby daddy is sleeping over tonight. He's our very own Gladys Kravitz. I could care less. I do care when it involves us. I want to know what's going on, why we didn't know about it, and what we can do to fix it.
I am a little judgmental, but only towards people that are judgmental towards others. Glass houses and all that. For the most part, I don't judge my friends. If they've made a bad decision in their life, I try to help them move past it and become better, as I'd hope they'd do the same for me. But when you're someone that calls people names and thinks they know people when they truly don't, then it's on.
I may be a little too obsessive over my online activities. Here's the deal though: I've made a lot of friends in my life, between high school, college, and work. A lot of these people are from different countries and have moved all over the world. I'm phone-phobic and refuse to call people unless I really have to, so the internet is my only means of staying in contact with them. I like a lot of the games on Facebook too. What does it hurt to build my own cafe and farm and apartment in yoville and have my own pet? Other than taking up WAY too much time, but I have nothing to do at work anyway. Besides that, I love to write my blog, and I'm using Facebook to advertise it a bit, and maybe one day, I'll get a following that will translate to a book deal which will mean that I will replace Gayle as Oprah's bestie, and I'll get my own Sirius radio show on her channel. Okay, maybe I'm reaching a bit far there, but a girl can dream, can't she? I'm a little too free with accepting friend requests, especially when I know it's a bad idea to be in contact with someone, but I do it to keep trouble down and not hurt anyone's feelings. In those situations, I try to leave it alone and not request them and not really communicate at all, but somehow it always manages to turn around on me and take a huge bite out of my ass.
Yup, everything's my fault. Once I realize that, maybe everyone can just move on and leave me alone. Yes, I caused the hole in the ozone layer. It was from all the aqua net I used in sixth grade when I had that perm. I caused the nation's credit card debt when I was late on one of my payments. The housing crisis is my fault because I got someone else's mortgage payment book in the mail and threw it away. I caused the war in Iraq because I totally thought Saddam was making anthrax. The earthquake in Haiti? Oh, I thought those tectonic plates needed to be smoothed out a bit. 9/11? I gave the hijackers a buddy pass for their flights. Is there anything else you would like to blame on me? I'm taking reservations.
Jan. 26 Blast from the Past.
Kashmir. Led Zeppelin.
Zoey loved Zeppelin when I was pregnant with her. Whenever I listened to them in the car on the way to work, she would rock out, kicking me for all she was worth. I think that kid is going to be a rock star when she's older. She will stop in the middle of a store to sing a song. "Mommy, Mommy. We shopping. We goin to pay." She always has a big finish, in which she jumps up and down for the last syllable of the song. She also moves her hands around to emphasize each lyric. Yeah, she's two. Or she might be a comedian. She is pretty damn funny. She could do both, maybe? She might be the next Bette Midler. With a nose that doesn't need plastic surgery.
Zoey loved Zeppelin when I was pregnant with her. Whenever I listened to them in the car on the way to work, she would rock out, kicking me for all she was worth. I think that kid is going to be a rock star when she's older. She will stop in the middle of a store to sing a song. "Mommy, Mommy. We shopping. We goin to pay." She always has a big finish, in which she jumps up and down for the last syllable of the song. She also moves her hands around to emphasize each lyric. Yeah, she's two. Or she might be a comedian. She is pretty damn funny. She could do both, maybe? She might be the next Bette Midler. With a nose that doesn't need plastic surgery.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Unanswered questions
Why is the sky blue?
What are you supposed to do when someone talks ill of the one you love besides protect them?
Why does my dog look at her butt when she farts? Does she expect to see the gas cloud?
Shouldn't your children be the most important people in the world to you and why have them if you're not going to take care of them?
Why do guys like boobs?
Why are there a handful of people who should love me that hate me, while I am friends with every other person in the world that I've ever met?
Why does tension give you a headache?
Why does it take being hurt to realize that you took things for granted and be grateful for what you have?
Why does flipping a baby over his crib work in getting him to sleep through the night?
Why do people think they know it all when they know NOTHING?
Why am I still awake at half past one in the morning?
Rather than accepting things for what they are, why do people feel the urge to lay blame at others' feet?
Why does Jay Leno's tanking ratings mean CONAN is out of a job?
Have morals and common sense disappeared?
Why can't I sleep?
Why are some given everything they've ever wanted in their life while the rest of us have to fight and struggle and work for everything?
Why are my questions unanswered? Why (just once) can't I have the answers for everything running through my mind?
It's probably the dog's fart. It's making my head spin.
What are you supposed to do when someone talks ill of the one you love besides protect them?
Why does my dog look at her butt when she farts? Does she expect to see the gas cloud?
Shouldn't your children be the most important people in the world to you and why have them if you're not going to take care of them?
Why do guys like boobs?
Why are there a handful of people who should love me that hate me, while I am friends with every other person in the world that I've ever met?
Why does tension give you a headache?
Why does it take being hurt to realize that you took things for granted and be grateful for what you have?
Why does flipping a baby over his crib work in getting him to sleep through the night?
Why do people think they know it all when they know NOTHING?
Why am I still awake at half past one in the morning?
Rather than accepting things for what they are, why do people feel the urge to lay blame at others' feet?
Why does Jay Leno's tanking ratings mean CONAN is out of a job?
Have morals and common sense disappeared?
Why can't I sleep?
Why are some given everything they've ever wanted in their life while the rest of us have to fight and struggle and work for everything?
Why are my questions unanswered? Why (just once) can't I have the answers for everything running through my mind?
It's probably the dog's fart. It's making my head spin.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
My baby boy....
As of January 15, my baby boy is 6 months old. He's getting so big. Too big, in my opinion. With Quinn, I was eager for her to hurry up and grow up so that things could get easier. Now I realize how fast they actually do grow up, and I'm in no hurry with Cooper. I love my snuggles and baby kisses, and that smell. Oh, that smell. Especially after he has his bath and it's a sweet blend of shampoo, baby lotion, and Cooperliciousness. I'm trying to enjoy every single second, because he may be my last (if my parents have any say), and there will at least be a very big gap between him and any more kids.
He went to the doctor with Russ on Wednesday. Yes, you read that right. My husband took one of our kids to a wellcheck. The nurses will now no longer believe that I am a single mother juggling three kids. Anyway, he did very well, although I had to write down his feeding patterns and the questions I had. Trust me, it might have been easier for me to take him, but I forgot to make the appointment, and the only day they could get him in was on Russ' day off. So, Coop is 18.13 lb (56%) and 27.5 inches long (79%). His measurements seem to be pointing towards him having my Dad's body frame: tall, thin, with chicken legs. He's healthy as can be. My only concern was that he has had a runny nose for a while and was tugging at his ear and patting his head, so I was concerned he had an ear infection (after dealing with Zoey having ear infections every month for 17 months before her surgery, you get a little nervous). Turns out he's like Quinn, with no problems with his ears (thank God - with Russ as his father, you never can tell). His tugging/patting is just his way of self-soothing. Who knew? Never had a kid do that before. The doctor did not have to remind us that he will be crawling and sitting up soon. Not necessary lady. I'm already on antidepressants here.
So he got his shots, which were the same ones he got at 1 month, 2 months, and 4 months. Problem with this series was that he had some sort of reaction. At the injection site, he got a big, hard, red lump that was about the size of a golf ball. It had to hurt, even though they said it didn't. I soaked him in the bath tub (aka our kitchen sink), and I think that helped a bit. I tried to give him Tylenol, but yet again, a little man has to be difficult, and he took about a third of what he should have, then spit it out. The next morning, his leg was much better though.
My only complaint with the boy is that he is a HORRIBLE sleeper. It's not that he wants to get up in the middle of the night for a bottle. He hasn't done that since he was about 6 weeks old. He stays awake most of the day, and if he takes a nap, it's no longer than an hour or so. Then when I put him down in his bed at night, he wakes up almost instantly, which totally screws up my exercise schedule. When he's finally asleep, he'll wake up constantly throughout the night, starting within 10 minutes of 12:30 am. Every. Single. Night. It's either because he drops his binkie, or he just wakes up for some reason and is wide awake. I go in half asleep and give him his binkie back or give him a couple pats on his side to calm him down, and then I repeat the process every 20-45 minutes for the rest of the night. Again. Every. Single. Night. Basically, Momma is short on sleep and getting extremely frustrated. Especially when Dadda pretends not to hear him most of the time (Russ, I see you stiffen up when you hear the baby monitor and pretend to snore. You're not fooling me). Zoey didn't sleep well as a baby, but that was because of her constant ear infections. Once we got them straightened out, the kid slept like a log. Quinn was a little bit like Cooper, until we performed the exorcism.
Just kidding. Or am I?
My mom had an old wives tale when it came to kids not sleeping. It meant that they had their days and nights mixed up, and slept during the day and were wide awake at night. Of course Cooper never sleeps, but that's beside the point. Mom's way of curing this was to flip their ass. I'm not performing a wrestling move on my kid, so don't bother calling CPS. What you do is flip your kid slowly 360 degrees over their bed, and it gets their days and nights straightened out. I'm not kidding, but once we did it with Quinn, she was sleeping through the night every single night within two days. Hell, it might have worked too good, because when she was a baby she'd sleep 16 hours straight. So, this morning, Russ and I flipped Coop. That kid better sleep tonight because Russ is going out to play pool, and I've got a date with Bob Harper to tone my ass. Hopefully it works, but if not, I've ordered a voice activated sound/light machine for his crib to calm him down when he cries so I can get a little shut-eye.
My mom had an old wives tale when it came to kids not sleeping. It meant that they had their days and nights mixed up, and slept during the day and were wide awake at night. Of course Cooper never sleeps, but that's beside the point. Mom's way of curing this was to flip their ass. I'm not performing a wrestling move on my kid, so don't bother calling CPS. What you do is flip your kid slowly 360 degrees over their bed, and it gets their days and nights straightened out. I'm not kidding, but once we did it with Quinn, she was sleeping through the night every single night within two days. Hell, it might have worked too good, because when she was a baby she'd sleep 16 hours straight. So, this morning, Russ and I flipped Coop. That kid better sleep tonight because Russ is going out to play pool, and I've got a date with Bob Harper to tone my ass. Hopefully it works, but if not, I've ordered a voice activated sound/light machine for his crib to calm him down when he cries so I can get a little shut-eye.
Let's see, what else do I have to tell you about Coop. He eats in the portable highchair now, like a big boy. I ordered one for Mom's house. Once it comes in, I'll be able to stop breaking my arm carrying him around in his pumpkin seat (Mom puts him in that to feed him). He's the sweetest boy in the entire world, and he still loves to give his Momma kisses. Oh, yeah, and he can say Momma, but he only says it when he wants something, like freedom from his jumperoo. He eats #2 foods, and screams when they're empty, because he's a hungry little thing. He protects his dogs and sisters by screaming bloody murder whenever Daddy messes with them (wrestling is NOT tolerated in our home). He loves to take his Grandpa's hat off of him, and loves to play with toys.
Basically, I love him to death, and I'm so glad he's here. It's like he always has been. My munchkin boy...
Reasons I'm sure God is a man...
*Men can pee outside. Sometimes it's a pain to have to go inside or use a port-a-potty. Those things are Nasty, with a capital N.
*Don't even get me started on pregnancy and childbirth.
*I have been working my ass off, literally and figuratively, for the last three weeks. I've been working out constantly and eating healthy crap (and sometimes really missing my fast food), and I've lost 8 pounds. I was extremely pleased with myself, until I discovered that my husband has lost 8 pounds this month by drinking more water. Bastard.
*Boobs. They just get in the way. Men may get moobs, but they never have to harness those puppies into a bra. Plus, they can run without giving themselves a black eye.
*So many sports teams to pick from, but only one George Clooney.
*Men can shave their head and look hot. If I tried that, I'd look like Sinead O'Connor.
*Don't even get me started on pregnancy and childbirth.
*I have been working my ass off, literally and figuratively, for the last three weeks. I've been working out constantly and eating healthy crap (and sometimes really missing my fast food), and I've lost 8 pounds. I was extremely pleased with myself, until I discovered that my husband has lost 8 pounds this month by drinking more water. Bastard.
*Boobs. They just get in the way. Men may get moobs, but they never have to harness those puppies into a bra. Plus, they can run without giving themselves a black eye.
*So many sports teams to pick from, but only one George Clooney.
*Men can shave their head and look hot. If I tried that, I'd look like Sinead O'Connor.
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Valentine's Day
I keep seeing the ads for this movie, "Valentine's Day." I think to myself, "Self, this movie has a lot of people you LOVE. Anne Hathaway, Taylor Swift, Julia Roberts, Bradley Cooper, Shirley Maclaine, Jennifer Garner.... Hmm, wonder what the story is."
So, I go to Wikipedia:
So, I go to Wikipedia:
The movie deals with casually intertwining stories of the heart that take place over the course of one Valentine's Day.
An on-leave army officer named Kate (Julia Roberts) is a passenger on a flight from Iraq to Los Angeles when she meets Holden (Bradley Cooper), a gay man whose lover is a closeted football player (Eric Dane). The owner of a florist shop, Reed (Ashton Kutcher) proposes to his girlfriend, Morley (Jessica Alba), while learning his best friend, Julia (Jennifer Garner), has a boyfriend named Harrison (Patrick Dempsey) who turns out to be married. An assistant named Liz (Anne Hathaway) is working at the biggest talent agency in town and is dating the mailroom assistant, Jason (Topher Grace). Julia's mother, Estelle (Shirley MacLaine) is a happy retiree who must reveal an affair from long ago to her husband, Edgar (Hector Elizondo), but for their granddaughter (Emma Roberts) is going to have sex with her boyfriend at her high school, in which Tyler Harrington (Taylor Lautner) and Samantha Kenny (Taylor Swift) who also go there are athletic teenagers who are deeply in love. Meanwhile, a publicist named Kara (Jessica Biel) is seemingly alone with no date on Valentine's Day working for her boss Kelvin Briggs (Jamie Foxx) whom she falls in love with working together. Oscar-winning actress Kathy Bates makes an appearance as a "love therapist." Joe Jonas voices the dog of Alba's character Morley. The in-depth storylines of Queen Latifah and George Lopez, are currently unknown as of December 26, 2009.Huh?
It sounds like there is no connection between these different scenes, and I have a feeling I would be totally lost. Wait.....
Joe Jonas is Jessica Alba's dog? The dog talks?
What a pile of poo.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Interesting evening, indeed.
I've learned many things in just one evening.
When you make dinner, as you have thousands of nights before, and put your favorite blue Anchor glass casserole pan in the sink and run cold water in it, as you have done many times in the seven and a half years since you got it as a wedding gift, it will explode into a million pieces the minute your back is turned.
The instant the glass hits the floor, the children will come running to see what happened and nearly slice a toe off.
The dogs will come a-running, because they don't mind eating glass if it tastes of beef gravy.
Invariably, the pan will shatter on the side of the sink lacking a strainer, because it has a garbage disposal.
You will then spend an hour picking every last chunk of blue glass out of the garbage disposal, getting tiny cuts (almost like paper cuts) all over the back of your right hand that burn like a mutha.
You hope to settle down for the evening, but then realize that you have to help Quinn practice reading her phonics books.
Despite the fact that Quinn will refer to the book as her "Sam and Al" book, all sixteen times Al is referenced, she will only refer to him as Sal, making you want to put said book through a paper shredder and then flush the resulting confetti down a clogged toilet.
If Quinn is getting attention for practicing reading, Zoey will try to kick the book.
If Zoey hurts her foot kicking Quinn's book, she will refer to said foot as a pussy (or a "footsy" but it sure sounded like pussy).
Once Quinn discovers that the word pussy is funny, she will NOT stop saying pussyfoot.
Your stomach will begin to hurt terribly, because you're trying to not laugh at your five year old saying "pussyfoot" because it's inappropriate, but at the same time, it's really funny.
Your two year old will not appreciate you laughing at her, and I'm pretty sure she will say "F*%$ you" but you really can't be sure.
Once all of this shit goes down, Mommy and Daddy want to get the children to bed IMMEDIATELY. And then Mommy will have to blog.
When you make dinner, as you have thousands of nights before, and put your favorite blue Anchor glass casserole pan in the sink and run cold water in it, as you have done many times in the seven and a half years since you got it as a wedding gift, it will explode into a million pieces the minute your back is turned.
The instant the glass hits the floor, the children will come running to see what happened and nearly slice a toe off.
The dogs will come a-running, because they don't mind eating glass if it tastes of beef gravy.
Invariably, the pan will shatter on the side of the sink lacking a strainer, because it has a garbage disposal.
You will then spend an hour picking every last chunk of blue glass out of the garbage disposal, getting tiny cuts (almost like paper cuts) all over the back of your right hand that burn like a mutha.
You hope to settle down for the evening, but then realize that you have to help Quinn practice reading her phonics books.
Despite the fact that Quinn will refer to the book as her "Sam and Al" book, all sixteen times Al is referenced, she will only refer to him as Sal, making you want to put said book through a paper shredder and then flush the resulting confetti down a clogged toilet.
If Quinn is getting attention for practicing reading, Zoey will try to kick the book.
If Zoey hurts her foot kicking Quinn's book, she will refer to said foot as a pussy (or a "footsy" but it sure sounded like pussy).
Once Quinn discovers that the word pussy is funny, she will NOT stop saying pussyfoot.
Your stomach will begin to hurt terribly, because you're trying to not laugh at your five year old saying "pussyfoot" because it's inappropriate, but at the same time, it's really funny.
Your two year old will not appreciate you laughing at her, and I'm pretty sure she will say "F*%$ you" but you really can't be sure.
Once all of this shit goes down, Mommy and Daddy want to get the children to bed IMMEDIATELY. And then Mommy will have to blog.
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