I’ve recently been inspired to lose those last 13 pounds I’ve been hanging on to for sentimental reasons (I assume). Not to harp on the subject, but I am a little sad to realize that in two days I will be one year post partum. One year to lose all 61 pounds I gained. I guess I thought surely I’d be back to my old clothes by now. At two months post partum I broke down and bought a pair of jeans four sizes bigger. At six month I broke down and really worked it... Read more
We’re headin’ to the A&M game to watch Pappa march in the alumni band at half time. It’s LB’s first football game. Wish us luck with that. Meanwhile, you can scan the crowd for screaming children and the band for Pappa Here at this Live Feed of the Game!Read more
So, we went shopping yesterday. I thought, Hey! I need new jeans! I mean, sure, I have a cabinet of jeans waiting for me to fit back in to but I’m not the size 14 I was 2 months post partum when I broke down and bought a pair last year. So, feeling all proud and whatnot, I go to the “70% off” section and find a kickass pair of jeans for 12 bucks. TWELVE DOLLA. I grab two pairs, a 9 (feeling optimistic are we?) and an 11.
In the dressing room, I try on the 11s in several styles of capris and jeans. Y’all. NOT ONE... Read more
I have a little story, a funny story, that happened on our way to the airport.
We stopped at Starbucks (of course) and I ran in while Mr. Flinger sat in the car with LB listening to the traffic report.
Man, early thirties, obviously checking out chick, mid twenties with great ass. Man sees me watching him checking her out. Says to her, loud enough for me to hear, “Those are great pans. Where’d you get them?” She responds, “Oh, thanks, got them at [fancy clothing place I’ve never heard of] [or will ever be able to... Read more
Hey, if you’re super bored at work (ahem, Nicole) then you can watch us drive to the airport. See that lil’ car behind all the other ones? That’s us! Wave Flingers Wave!Read more
P.S. This will be a sticky post. Anything new is down there. Or on the moblog for the trip.
So, we’re not ready. But hey! Look! I got a moblog working! Now, shut your pie hole about how lame the design is (uh.. what design? ya ya, I heard ya) but at least I can moblog ALL I WANT TO. Maybe I’ll even make it pretty and make it a thing. Ya know? Flinger MoBlog! Oooh, I love technology.
‘k.. So, check over there to the left on the menu... Read more
What I was about to write is how when Mommy says, “Can you [fill in house chore here] and [simultaneous but attainable house chore here as well] and give the baby a bath?” what Mr. Flinger’s version is “Can you [turn up TV really loud with WWE] and [yell at baby while you try to accomplish said chores] and forget to give baby a bath.”
I realized, while I was about to type my rant, that I really have no leg to stand on. I mean, here I am, in the office, ready and needing to work and I’m thinking about how I must (it is imperative) get a... Read more
We “got” to run to the ER today. It’s not what it sounds like. My small-ish town HMO facility can’t handle a stiff neck accompanied by headaches, dizzy spells, and tunnel vision with a sore throat and body aches. That, my friends, warrents a visit to the E freaking R. The system is horrid. There’s a lot of waiting. There’s a lot of paperwork. There’s a lot of nakedness in those stupid gowns. And, overall, there’s a lot more time spent to hear the same thing, “Take two of these and call if your symptoms don’t get... Read more
When Lauren was little, very little, like three weeks old, I threw a fit one night. She had been screaming for three hours (blood curling screaming that totally makes me go a little coo coo) and Mr. Flinger came rushing out to take over without considering what I was feeling/thinking. I threw an absolute fit including yelling, throwing, and falling into a heap onto the floor (this was all at 3am). I remember being so embarrassed and guilt-ridden at my outburst. I thought I was going to hell for yelling that I hated my kid. But, y’all, at that moment, on 5 hours of sleep in two... Read more
Why I know I’m a 14 year old boy.
The following things made me giggle to no end: