I used to exclaim “Oh! My Uterus hurts!” when I’d see adorable babies. Obviously, it was my proverbial uterus as I wasn’t experiencing cramping, firey, seering pain. No, I did not understand what those words actually meant. To me it was the ol’ biological clock ticking and it was funny because “ohhh, looky! A baby! He’s so cute my uterus hurts!”Read more
Twas the night before work
and all through the house
every creature was stirring
and keeping mommy from working
There were assignments to post
and blogs to be read
As you can surely imagine
She worked with much dread
Mommy with her handkerchief
From her brand new cold
Wanted to sleep
For she was feeling too old
But what to her blood shot eyes should appear?
A cup of hot java made by her dear.
It steamed with delight
a right jolly ol? cup
and she knew in a moment it would keep her right up
She plodded along
Trying hard to think
And as she worked she sipped
Her most luscious drink
But still in the end
She had trouble, you see
If it?s not... Read more
I was so proud of myself. I bought a size ten jeans at the Gap a few weeks back and :: sucking it in :: they fit! THEY FIT!! Well, mostly. Anyway, I wore them four days in a row because they’re the only semi-hip thing I’ve bought in months and they sordda make my ass look smaller. PLUS, they’re a size ten, remember? I used to BE a size ten. Oh, I used to be a size six, but let’s got get depressed or anything.
Anyway, I wore my jeans, And wore them. And they got dirty, because I kept wearing them and I have a 14 month old. I washed said jeans and do you know what? They’re a size 2 now. Holy shit they shrunk. I put them on yesterday thinking how lovely it is that I can gain forty pounds, apparently, in a matter of the sixty minutes it takes my laundry... Read more
I designed this:Read more
Hey, it may be dimply, but it can make phone calls. Can yours?
BTW: Who else did I call that day? Kerry said she got a call from my cell (not me talking, btw) and now Anne did, too. Oy. If I happen to call the President and he hears my ass scuffle, I hope he doesn’t think we’ve been bombed or something equally horrid. My ass CAN sound a bit like a bomb. Just ask Mr. Flinger.Read more
I’ve been pondering this topic lately: Is motherhood hot? See, I’m not the hottest chick out there. I’m not fugly or nuttin’, but I’m not Angalina Jolie with kids. I’m not even Britney Spears looking rather large. No, I’m more like your typical mom with wrinkles, some gray “highlights,” fat jeans and yes, saggy boobs. I have it all, baby.
So when I asked Mr. Flinger, “Is motherhood hot?” He was a little too quick to say “it can be.”
“What do you mean it can be?”
“You know,... Read more
Don’t forget: All of ‘em are here! and open to the public.Read more
So, um, I’m not very good in public. No, really, I know you think I’m this amazingly hip, glorious goddess with a great, tight ass and small boobies and the wit of a thousand Kramers . :: snort :: So, well, don’t be too disappointed when I tell you, I am special needs in public relations. I ride the short bus to “out there.” Seriously. It’s not pretty.
Two days ago I decided to take LB to “the big city” alone. We met up with our good friends and then broke off for some quality mommy, baby time. My poor daughter is already mordified to be with me in public and she still craps her pants in the line at the supermarket while making... Read more
Well, can I just say? Shit. I’m behind and the year is an entire three days old. How the hell does this happen, people? Where went my intentions? Where went my goals? Apparently, as I sit in the pile and stacks of boxes, work, to do lists and mud from the garage, I’ve let things.. how shall I say.. distract me.
I finally uploaded some images on flickr. I have completely neglected our family site only to hear about it on Rbelle’s site from a comment my Mom made. For the love of gawd, people, I’m only one woman! And I’m a sucky one at that! I have phone calls to return, designs to... Read more
LB hasn’t napped in two days. Two Days, people. It’s been one giant cleaning orgy here at the Flinger’s house and LB has been up for the entire thing. Back in the day (read: before Oma came to provide 24/7 entertainment) she could play by herself and let me work/clean/blog. Now, even with Elmo on the new 20 in TV, she has no interest in being alone. It’s all “play-with-me” all the time. So it’s been Elmo, kid music, lots of redirection and Mr. Flinger cussing as he cleans out the attic so I can purge crap and make our house something that resembles a home, not a giant blue light special at K-mart.
I’ve written fabulous posts in my brain. Did you get the memo? No? That’s because “Lalala Lalala Elmo’s... Read more