My husband calls me weird

Fall

Well, fall and the cold weather have crashed my party uninvited. Don't get me wrong, I love the color changes in the leaves and the cooler weather has been a nice break from the summer heat, but this 26 degree shit has got to stop. It sucks. I dragged Aaron out for some frigid fresh air the other day and to let him romp in the leaves. Little does he know that this weekend he will be raking them up with his older brother. Got to love living by the woods and windy days that blow all the leaves into your yard. Fuckers.

 

 

   
(He's throwing leaves)

 
Why yes, that is my big honking 23 week pregnant belly under my obnoxious yellow coat. Just call me Big Bird.

 
Laying on our porch swing.

Have a wonderful Halloween everyone. Even if you don't live in the US, go eat a candy bar in honor of this wonderful holiday

(And to anyone who has been up all night worried about the Diego jeep, it has been found. Damn-it.)

Cussing like Daddy since 2008

Yesterday, was an interesting day in Aaron land. Temper tantrums galore and me wishing Calgon would take me away or for it to be legal to sell your offspring to the gypsies. After an iffy ride home from school/work Aaron had to go straight to his room when we returned and he had lost all TV privileges. When he was allowed to finally come downstairs he started on a one man mission to find his Diego jeep. He stormed downstairs to the basement, destroying the playroom, marched to the family room and dug through the pile of toys behind the couch and finally ran upstairs to his bedroom to see if he had missed it up there. Dejected that he couldn't find his beloved jeep, he stomped into the kitchen where I was cooking dinner, placed his hands on his hips and hollered at the top of his lungs,

"DAMN-IT!"

Hey, it could have been worse. He could have yelled fuck.

(To top it all off the furnace at my office is going haywire and the repair people can't be out here until this afternoon. So no heat until then. Did I mention it was 27 degrees this morning? Can you say "nipples can cut glass?" Oh and apparently you have to have a permit to have your house as a rental property. Hmmmmm, would have been nice for my realtor to inform me of this. After all it's 2 days before the tenants move in. I only paid her $900 to take care of everything. Not that I'm bitter or anything.)

Here, have a funny

It's that time of week again where my brain is fried and refusing to process any information. Not that it did in the first place. The least I can do when I am not up to par to entertain you is to steal images off of another website and let them do it for me. I excel at being a lazy ass. No, seriously I have my masters degree. Not everyone can say that.

(All images stolen from here.)

Never mess with the original

  

Looking up towards heaven

Saturday, we met Kevin at his work and rode out together to Ken's hockey game. By the time we had dropped him off to get his car night had fallen. Aaron and I quickly stepped into Kev's work to use the restroom. On our way back to the car, holding hands, Aaron lifts his head up to the sky,

"Hi Great Nana in heaven. We miss you. Can you hear me?"

Can you hear me Grandma? We do miss you down here, more than you can imagine. Did you know your great granddaughter will be named after you? I only hope I can raise her to be half the woman you were.

We love you. Always.

Wanna squeal with me?

I received a huge box of girl hand me downs a week ago and I refused to look through them just in case Super Genius Baby_tm was a boy.  Now don't get me wrong, I love boys. I know how to take care of little boys. Little girls? Not so much. Let's be honest here though, little girl clothes are 10 times cuter and more fun to shop for. That's just a fact. I finally looked through the box and I think I squeaked at every fucking piece of clothing. I love hand me downs. I have more hand me downs coming from some wonderful friends. I'm not going to have to buy clothes for this baby girl for a long, long time. Not to mention my mother has already purchased two outfits and some booties. Do you wanna squeak with me? You know you want to.

 
One that my mom bought. Now all I need are the ruffled butt tights.

 
Who doesn't love sweet baby kisses?!

 
It can't all be baby pink. I might twitch if it was.

 
This pale blue outfit is one of my favorites. So sweet.

Wait.....are you ready for the big squeal moment? The one where every male within 10 miles will grown at you?
 
Seriously, you just sounded like a fucking mouse didn't you?

Verbal crappage

I ate a whole pineapple myself in three days. You're impressed, I know. I've eaten one in a single day, but I really, really don't recommend it, unless you enjoy shitting a lot.

Also, buttering a bagel with a steak knife is not as easy as it looks. I mean, a butter knife is hard enough with that giant whole in the opening of the bagel where the butter just likes to slide off and grease what's ever beneath it. I wonder if a spoon would be better...............

And finally, as words just shit out my mouth, much like what happens when you do eat a whole pineapple in one day, I give you the 6 Truths in Life, sent to me by the kick ass Bobbie. No, seriously, piss her off and she will kick your ass. Granted I like my ass getting kicked, so I piss her off often.

1. You cannot touch all your top teeth with your tongue.

2. All idiots, after reading the first truth, will try it.

3. And discover that The first truth is a lie.


4. You're smiling now because you're an idiot.


5. You soon will forward this to another idiot.


6. There's still a stupid smile on your face. 

You know you did it, so don't even try to deny it. I'm glad to know I'm in such fine company of some fucking great idiots.

Attack of the frigging fruit flies

Or also known as alliteration Wednesday.

Friday fruit flies decided to fucking foray my house. I had to fling all of the fruit away and empty all garbage cans in the kitchen. I then found someone had flung a fragment of fruitilicious delight in the laundry room's trash receptacle. Upon finding this fucking delight, fruit flies by the 100's began fighting me and beating my every attempt to destroy them. Proving to be a formidable foe, I turned to my faithful computer. I Googled "fucking kill the fruit flies." Aha! The first and foremost entry informed me to find a skinless fraction of fruit and place it in a container with wine, cover with saran wrap and fasten. Then form faint fractures in the wrap large enough for the fucking fruit flies to fall into. Thankfully fucking fruit flies are too foolish to find the fractures and find freedom after they have found their way into their prison. Finally, after forty winks or so, the fucking fruit flies should all be enjoying their fortress of fatality and will eventually fall flat and float lifeless  in the fruity wine concoction. You have fought the feud and finished off the fucking fruit flies.

21 weeks and counting

I had my ultra sound and doctors appointment this morning. I am in fact carrying a healthy baby and not a puppy. Said baby does not like to behave and would rather piss the ultra sound tech off by not sitting still. It was very apparent however that the smooshy baby is an exhibitionist.

All I have to say is bring on the ruffled butt tights and that she better stop being such an exhibitionist by the time she's a teenager. Either that or her father will invest in a chastity belt.

Reason #746289 on why to have kids

 

 

 

Free manual labor. It's like your own personal sweat shop.