And why I haven’t done your web design yet. Because SOME OTHER PEOPLE made me drink this weekend. And somehow there was photographic evidence. With my camera. (Which explains why there are 192 photos in the set. Drunk photography is almost as fantastic as drunk blogging.) Or, maybe, it’s “192 reasons I start the South Beach Diet Monday.” Because? I didn’t... Read more
Only just recently, the weeks of getting 5 or 6 hours of sleep a night in two hour chunks finally caught up with me. Somehow, the following scene was wildly hilarious at the time and when recounting the experience to friends, I realized you really, really, really had to be there.
For posterity, here is Leslie’s brain on sleep deprivation:
Figure B: FLYING BABIES!
I know I posted a little about Baby O’s birth story. But what you don’t know is that I left out one very ironic and very ME piece of information. It’s the kind of information that rivals walking around the mall with toilet paper stuck to your shoe or your skirt tucked in to the back of your pantyhose. It’s the kind of information that is only horrific if you DON’T tell people and if you do, well, it’s downright hilarious. It becomes an... Read more
Yesterday when we met Mr. Flinger at lunch (read: Starbucks coffee), the three of us were sitting drinking our allocated beverages when a group of three men about our age walked in. Mr. Flinger stares at one of the men, leans over to me, and whispers, “He went to our High School. I’m sure of it. He graduated in my class.” I was sure he was lying because just three weeks ago he saw Ross Perot at Safeway and two weeks before that, Wade... Read more
Hi there! Well, hello! I can’t seem to keep my mind focused on one thing longer than .2 seconds, which is not long enough to write a post, mind you, and thus have attempted to write FOUR THOUSAND posts in the last two days, all of which look something like this:
“You know how when….”
“One day I was…..”
“It was a dark and stormy night….”
Ok, no, that last one was the start of my latest best-selling-novel that never got past seven words long. It was a damn fine read, though, in my... Read more
You remember two years ago when I got my DVR for mother’s day? Remember how I dry-humped the box when it showed up? Remember how we never have to resent our first-born child because she prevents us from watching LOST or Grey’s Anatomy?
Last night while we sat on the couch watching the DVR recorded Grey’s, the baby made some convulsive moves and my belly jumped three... Read more
May 1: Officially 34 weeks pregnant.
11:00 AM- Whilst talking to a group of moms, have contraction. “BlahblahBlah.. uugghhhhh… uuhhhhhh… pppffffffff…. BlahBlahBlah.” Perhaps mention that you’ve been noticing more of these braxtin gigs lately. Also, they hurt.
12:00PM- Have lunch outside with Mr. Flinger. Choose a Venti water at Starbucks instead of coffee because uuugghhhhhhh… uhhhhh.. ppffffffffff contracting. Remember that last time around false labor is most usually brought on by dehydration.
1:00 PM- Pee
1:15PM-... Read more
Granted, I don’t go around telling girls to get knocked up in High School as a regular expression of my brilliance, but I’ve been thinking of this a lot lately. I mean, what’s with all the “finish graduate school” and “get a stable job” and “have years with my husband first” crap? Really? When you compare it to the blissful layout of the following list. (Yes! It’s a LIST! I know I know…)
10. Boys are always horny. No need to Read more
I’ve done amazingly well this pregnancy, in terms of not actually going to the ER for random bits of complete nonsense. I can tell, though, as I get closer to the end (Did I hear a PRAISE JEZUZ?!) I find myself becoming a wee bit more worrisome. Or freakish. Either way.
Compared to last go-round, I’ve been amazingly calm. With my first pregnancy I called the doctor no less than 8 times for various “pains.” I freaked out three times with false labor, thought my water broke once, called the hospital because I was SNORING TOO MUCH (I swear to god, it hurts to... Read more
I’ve talked openly about my child’s refusal to nap and its subsequent effect on me. We’ve been battling the “Nap Issue” for some time now. Eons ago, Oma said “perhaps she’s just giving it up?” to which I threw tomatoes at her and booed very loudly. I may have even hissed, I’m not sure. Either way,... Read more