Fine then all you boobie lovers lout there, if it will shut you up I will give you a flash. Damn, the shit I do for you guys.
Make your peek fast, or my husband might get jealous. No drooling on your screen now. Sophia does have drippy bibs she's willing to share.
I am beyond busy this week with a major art fair coming up, but I just had to stop in and quickly say:
My boobs look fantastic in this shirt.
(My husband is such a lucky man.)
Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes, snowflakes that stay on my nose and eye lashes, wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings. These are a few of my favorite things............
(When the dog bites, when the beeeee stings, when I'm feeling sad..........)
What about you? What are a few of your favorite things? Sing it like fucking Julie Andrews, just not about fucking Julie Andrews. Because that would be wrong. On so many levels.
I really, really want this t-shirt, but it's too damn expensive. Where is my rich sugar daddy when I need him?
Wait, I don't have one.
Double damn!
(And to the person who Google found me via "she doesn't want me to wash my crotch." Thats just wrong. So fucking wrong in so many fucking ways. I'm dry heaving. Think cat coughing up hair ball. Only worse and I'm not that cute and cuddly.)
I turned 4 months on Sunday. Look at my chub! My chins have their own chins. Don't you just want to nom on me? Mommy says I'm too cute for my own good and my doctor says my mommy and daddy grow them "cute and advanced" or whatever that means. Speaking of that mean doctor, he made me get 2 pokes in my legs today. I screamed very loudly just so that he knew how mad I was. It hurt! Thankfully my mommy had my snuggle blanket near by and she covered me with kisses.
I'm 13 lbs 6 oz and 24 inches long. Last week I got to start oatmeal, but it gives me gas. Mommy says it gives her gas too, so now I get to try rice cereal with a touch of apple juice so it doesn't make my poop too hard. Mommy spends too much time worried about my poop.
I can roll from my tummy to my back and I can almost roll from back to tummy. I love my exersaucer and shoving everything into my mouth. Today I realized that we have a cat and I can't wait to try to eat her tail.
Okay, well I gotta run. (Ha, run, I wish. I still need to learn to crawl.) I have ceiling fans to laugh at and mommy's face to mutliate. It is too much fun to try and rip her nose off. You should try it sometime.
First of all, thank you to everyone who made the vow with me to become heart healthy. The links to everyone taking the challenge will go up next week. Every week I plan on posting a Heart Healthy Friday update. In these updates I will share things I tried to make my life healthier. This isn't about weight loss or trying to look good in a bikini, this is about being healthy. This is about changing the way I live my life so that I can be here, alive and on this earth, to celebrate my 50th wedding anniversary, to witness my children growing up, to hear my grandchildren giggle and to be the most fucking awesome old broad this world has ever seen.
This week I:
I have to park in a structure everyday for work. Next week I want to park on the 4th floor and take the stairs. Every bit of movement helps. I also need to work on de-stressing. My down time usually doesn't start until about 9pm, so I haven't had much luck in finding my happy place. (Not that kind of happy place. Kevin's good at finding that. Yeesh, you perverts.) It's also strangely the small things that make me happy. I LOVE to shop (no, really?! I'm positive you didn't know that.) Next Friday some friends and I are hitting the thrift stores. Nothing like cheap retail therapy to make a girl smile. I also need to purge my closet and donate items to Purple Heart. (Okay, fine, shopping isn't going to make me heart healthy, so what's your point? It makes me happy.) Also, this makes me happy. When I get stressed, my skin shows it. It's been red and blotchy for months. The Burts Bees overnight creme is my savior. I'm going to try the toner too. In short, my goals for next week are: more exercise, less stress. Wish me luck. I need it.
What are your goals? What do you find helps you to de-stress? Do you have an exercise routine that's short and sweet for this over worked and too busy for her damn good mom? Share please!
Okay, OKAY, I admit it. I have a problem. It began about a month ago and seemed so.....innocent. I didn't mean for anything to start, it just happened. I should probably feel guilty, but honestly I don't. One day it's probably going to all come back to me and bite me in my ass when my daughter is 16 and in therapy. But I can't stop.
Hello, my name is Nicole and I'm addicted to baby legwarmers.
There I said it. Are you happy now?! It started with one simple formula/ diapers Target run and I picked up a pair of BabyLegs, and really I wasn't impressed, especially for the amount of money they cost. They pilled on the bottom, snagged and the elastic cut into my chub-a-lub baby girl. But I LOVED the idea of them. No tights, easy diaper changes, perfect for these early summer days when the mornings are still cool. So I did some searching and stumbled upon Crawler Covers and I haven't looked back. Better quality and much more affordable.
If loving you is wrong, then I don't want to be right.
You think I'm kidding about the addiction. Baby leg warmers are my crack. (Like crack the drug...not crack my ass. Just in case you were confused about the two. Hey, don't give me that look. I live with a teenage boy. Of course I had to clarify that. If you have any doubt, then obviously you've never had a conversation with a hormonal teenage boy. Go on, I dare you. You'll never be the same again. And neither will your pantry.)
On to my crack evidence. It's so incriminating.
(these have monkeys on them. really, must you smirk at me that way?)
(those are pirate skulls and probably my fave pair.)
See I told you. Addicted. To the max. All I need now are sweatbands and a torn off the shoulder sweatshirt. Then I could teach her to flash dance. 12 step program anyone? Baby leg warmers anonymous?
Better yet, come on over to the dark side. You know you want to.
I've got oodles of pictures I just have to share with everyone. That and I needed a good excuse to say smorgeshborg. A word that is ten times more fun to say than crotch. And I'm pretty damn sure nothing rhymes with smorgeshborg.
Cereal, the Onslaught. (Another great word. What rhymes with onslaught?!)
First bite....unsure.........
Second bite, weirded out......
Third bite, WTF?!
Fourth bite, would much rather eat the bib.......
Now ready to lose her shit.......
Oh thank god, the crazy lady took off my bib and I found my thumb.....
Camera, the Onslaught
Oh lookey a flashy camera thingy......
Closer.......
Trying harder.........
Oh nevermind, my thumb is way cooler.
Five Years Old and I Know More Than You, the Onslaught.
My little tree hugger, who today asked for a bunk-a-bed. Where the hell am I going to find a bunk-a-bed?! And don't you even dare try to correct him. Obviously. What the hell was I thinking?
And finally an over excited 5 year old and a moody hormonal teenager. Let's title this:
Teenager, A Moody Get the Fucking Camera Out Of My Face Onslaught
(smorgeshborg, smorgeshborg, smorgeshborg.........sorry, had to get that out of my system......)
