I owe you $1.50 from the other day. I'm not supposed to be swearing. Here's $3. Keep the change.
What the HELL is wrong with people? Poor baby was so sad and sleepy Friday morning and I hauled ass in the shower (she cried the whole time I was in there) and rushed her to daycare only to have my first damn client just not show up. No call. Nothing. People. Don't do this. It's rude and makes you a real bitch. Here's another 50 cents.
Monday, July 21
Wednesday, July 16
Boo!
Hi. Hi. Sorry. Hi. Forgive me. Been real busy like. Real busy.
Let's see...where was I? Oh yes. Teething. That's it. Or is it? I have no freaking idea. Since this child was borned (I know it's wrong...I like to say it like that. I also like to say 'liberry' just to see who has the nerve to correct me and who knows I'm just shitting them) people have asked me if she's teething. She loves to chew on her hands. Well, here she is...11 months old and no teeth. Not a one. And when I'm able to stick a jack in her mouth to take a look...I don't even see a tooth breaking through her gums. So, lady...don't come up to me all like 'Aw...she's teething' like you know my daughter better than me. She'll get her teeth when she's damn well ready and not before, capice?
Which leads me to my next statement. I'm irritable. Still haven't had a period. Sorry, guys, and I say 'sorry, guys' as if guys actually read this. Anyway, I've been less than patient lately and for those of you who know me--and I say 'for those of you who know me' as if people who don't know me actually read this--you're probably saying to yourself...she was patient and I missed it? Drat! I have been tired, yes, but today I took baby to school this morning, which is very hard for me to do when I'm not working on Wednesdays but it's best since she'll have to be there when school starts, and felt like I could run 26.2 miles. That's a marathon, if you didn't know that. I know that because my friend runs marathons and has a 26.2 sticker in her car winduhr. Anyway, I felt very anxious. But I was rushing around to get a whole bunch of stuff done before it was time to pick her up. I did two loads of laundry. Since we've been wearing all white to work, I hadn't washed my darks in months; couldn't tell you the last time. As I was sorting the laundry I found myself saying "Hey! I forgot about this shirt!" several times. And the craziest thing is...I was able to separate the loads into basically black with a bit of grey mixed in and a different pile of red/pink/turquoise/stripedy/purple things. I didn't try to stuff it all in together. I feel like I'm growing. I did have that one odd article of clothing that has no real pile. I didn't want to wash it with the whites the other day because it's new and it has a black v-neck and I just knew it would bleed every where. So I took a chance and washed it with the blacks worrying it would be bled all over. It survived. Happy happy joy joy.
I went to pick the baby up at school and she stood up to get me when I walked in the door. I looked over to the swing I had donated to them and saw her little classmate (and by little, I mean giant for his age) folded over like an origami pterodactyl. His chest was on his lap and his arms were hanging over the edge of the swing, his knuckles dragging the ground and his face buried in his thighs. I said, "Aw...what happened to your buddy?" The teacher turned and ran over to sit him up. I kind of brushed it off but honestly, if I'd walked in to find Huddy like that I would've kicked some ass. Of course, I'd never find her like that because she hates that freaking swing like G. Dubya hates a nucular weapon. I'm happy that baby gets too much attention when she's there, but now I feel a little guilty that the boys are being ignored.
My favorite little boy there went home early with a fever of 103 degrees. Greaaaat. Huddy had a fever all weekend long. I left work early to get her to the doctor in time on Saturday. I got there at 11.58 a.m. They close at noon. The receptionist went back to ask a nurse if she could see her, but they said 'no'. "They really rush out of here on Saturdays." Hello? Didn't you take an oath or something? Rude. Looking for a new doctor now.
Maybe I am getting ready to start. I ate a whole Amy's vegan pizza when I got home and I stupidly bought a bag of Newman's Os when I went to the grocery the other day. I haven't bought them in a long time because I don't know when to say when. I had six cookies after the pizza. Nightmare. I just need to hurry up and finish them off so that they'll be gone. And my face is out of contrizzle. I can't take it. Go away, stupid zits! Bug a teenager for God sake.
I do have my loves right now. Besides my sweet sweet baby, I have Dr Pepper. (There's no period after the Dr, so don't go writing a bunch of self-righteous hate mail.) Bing cherries. They're tasting especially sweet right now. Cash Cab. I love watching these freaky New Yorkers. Some of the people in his cab are tourists, but the majority of them are lost to the world, like Brooks Hatlen, the librarian from The Shawshank Redemption. He couldn't handle being outside the prison walls and sadly took his own life. He was "institutionalized." Some of the people on Cash Cab would never survive in say...Deluth.
So, I've decided to have baby's birthday party the weekend after I start school. She'll already be a year old, but a few things have me thinking it's best to wait. I'm going to be making a vegan chocolate cake, so if your planning to drop by, you'll eat it and you'll like it.
Let's see...where was I? Oh yes. Teething. That's it. Or is it? I have no freaking idea. Since this child was borned (I know it's wrong...I like to say it like that. I also like to say 'liberry' just to see who has the nerve to correct me and who knows I'm just shitting them) people have asked me if she's teething. She loves to chew on her hands. Well, here she is...11 months old and no teeth. Not a one. And when I'm able to stick a jack in her mouth to take a look...I don't even see a tooth breaking through her gums. So, lady...don't come up to me all like 'Aw...she's teething' like you know my daughter better than me. She'll get her teeth when she's damn well ready and not before, capice?
Which leads me to my next statement. I'm irritable. Still haven't had a period. Sorry, guys, and I say 'sorry, guys' as if guys actually read this. Anyway, I've been less than patient lately and for those of you who know me--and I say 'for those of you who know me' as if people who don't know me actually read this--you're probably saying to yourself...she was patient and I missed it? Drat! I have been tired, yes, but today I took baby to school this morning, which is very hard for me to do when I'm not working on Wednesdays but it's best since she'll have to be there when school starts, and felt like I could run 26.2 miles. That's a marathon, if you didn't know that. I know that because my friend runs marathons and has a 26.2 sticker in her car winduhr. Anyway, I felt very anxious. But I was rushing around to get a whole bunch of stuff done before it was time to pick her up. I did two loads of laundry. Since we've been wearing all white to work, I hadn't washed my darks in months; couldn't tell you the last time. As I was sorting the laundry I found myself saying "Hey! I forgot about this shirt!" several times. And the craziest thing is...I was able to separate the loads into basically black with a bit of grey mixed in and a different pile of red/pink/turquoise/stripedy/purple things. I didn't try to stuff it all in together. I feel like I'm growing. I did have that one odd article of clothing that has no real pile. I didn't want to wash it with the whites the other day because it's new and it has a black v-neck and I just knew it would bleed every where. So I took a chance and washed it with the blacks worrying it would be bled all over. It survived. Happy happy joy joy.
I went to pick the baby up at school and she stood up to get me when I walked in the door. I looked over to the swing I had donated to them and saw her little classmate (and by little, I mean giant for his age) folded over like an origami pterodactyl. His chest was on his lap and his arms were hanging over the edge of the swing, his knuckles dragging the ground and his face buried in his thighs. I said, "Aw...what happened to your buddy?" The teacher turned and ran over to sit him up. I kind of brushed it off but honestly, if I'd walked in to find Huddy like that I would've kicked some ass. Of course, I'd never find her like that because she hates that freaking swing like G. Dubya hates a nucular weapon. I'm happy that baby gets too much attention when she's there, but now I feel a little guilty that the boys are being ignored.
My favorite little boy there went home early with a fever of 103 degrees. Greaaaat. Huddy had a fever all weekend long. I left work early to get her to the doctor in time on Saturday. I got there at 11.58 a.m. They close at noon. The receptionist went back to ask a nurse if she could see her, but they said 'no'. "They really rush out of here on Saturdays." Hello? Didn't you take an oath or something? Rude. Looking for a new doctor now.
Maybe I am getting ready to start. I ate a whole Amy's vegan pizza when I got home and I stupidly bought a bag of Newman's Os when I went to the grocery the other day. I haven't bought them in a long time because I don't know when to say when. I had six cookies after the pizza. Nightmare. I just need to hurry up and finish them off so that they'll be gone. And my face is out of contrizzle. I can't take it. Go away, stupid zits! Bug a teenager for God sake.
I do have my loves right now. Besides my sweet sweet baby, I have Dr Pepper. (There's no period after the Dr, so don't go writing a bunch of self-righteous hate mail.) Bing cherries. They're tasting especially sweet right now. Cash Cab. I love watching these freaky New Yorkers. Some of the people in his cab are tourists, but the majority of them are lost to the world, like Brooks Hatlen, the librarian from The Shawshank Redemption. He couldn't handle being outside the prison walls and sadly took his own life. He was "institutionalized." Some of the people on Cash Cab would never survive in say...Deluth.
So, I've decided to have baby's birthday party the weekend after I start school. She'll already be a year old, but a few things have me thinking it's best to wait. I'm going to be making a vegan chocolate cake, so if your planning to drop by, you'll eat it and you'll like it.
Tuesday, July 8
Who's The Boss?
There are a lot of bossy people in my life:
My mother. She's not bossy, but she is still entitled to tell me what to do. Most of the time...I listen to her.
My horrid bosses at work who still suck cherry pits. They have no business bossing people. There was a mistake on my form today and I asked just to double check that I didn't screw up my client's services. I said, "So, she's getting her facial next? At noon?" He yelled, "Yes. Believe me!" I said, "Well, it says right here her facial is at one o'clock, so I'll just change it to twelve...." I wanted so desperately to yell back, "Why shouldn't I believe you? Are you usually a big fat liar?" The receptionist came over and said, "Oh yeah. I was working on fixing that." Whatev. After that ridiculous note passing ordeal, I've done nothing but smile and nod whenever they tell me something for the fiftieth time, i.e., don't wrap wet towels in the sheets. I DO NOT USE WET TOWELS! *sigh*
And Hudson. She is so the boss of me. She won't let me put her down or hold her or position her anyway she hasn't fully approved before hand. She's all like "Refer to the handbook, lady" and I'm all like "Give me the Cliffs Notes."
We're tired in this house.
My mother. She's not bossy, but she is still entitled to tell me what to do. Most of the time...I listen to her.
My horrid bosses at work who still suck cherry pits. They have no business bossing people. There was a mistake on my form today and I asked just to double check that I didn't screw up my client's services. I said, "So, she's getting her facial next? At noon?" He yelled, "Yes. Believe me!" I said, "Well, it says right here her facial is at one o'clock, so I'll just change it to twelve...." I wanted so desperately to yell back, "Why shouldn't I believe you? Are you usually a big fat liar?" The receptionist came over and said, "Oh yeah. I was working on fixing that." Whatev. After that ridiculous note passing ordeal, I've done nothing but smile and nod whenever they tell me something for the fiftieth time, i.e., don't wrap wet towels in the sheets. I DO NOT USE WET TOWELS! *sigh*
And Hudson. She is so the boss of me. She won't let me put her down or hold her or position her anyway she hasn't fully approved before hand. She's all like "Refer to the handbook, lady" and I'm all like "Give me the Cliffs Notes."
We're tired in this house.
Monday, July 7
AWOL
Wow. A week has gone by and nothing even remotely exciting has happened to me. Baby is teething. That's about it. Which means...I'm exhausted and she's miserable. She cries from 8.30 p.m. to 11 p.m. and refuses to go in her crib. I give her Baby Orajel Nighttime which makes me feel horribly guilty. It evidently helps, though I feel like she's standing on a street corner waiting for it. I've decided to give up my weird anti-medication lifestyle for the sake of her poor gums. She will be 11 months old next week and she is still toothless. Good. Ness. Poor thing. She'll soon be eating birthday cake and moving on to grown up food. Let's get some choppers, alrighty? I'm thinking of making her a vegan chocolate birthday cake, so if you come to the party...you've been warned. I've surmised that when mothers eat their young...it's when they're teething.
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