The zoo is a bitch

I was supposed to meet Rachel at the zoo today at 10am. We got up on time. I packed our lunches. We left the house 10 minutes early. Everything seemed perfect. And then I got to the zoo. The motherfucking zoo. The exit to get off the highway was backed up. I sat on the exit ramp for about 20 minutes. Then we slowly crept around the block to look for parking. I decided to just follow the big yellow school buses. BAD PLAN.

After watching 596 buses pull into a big parking lot, I finally got my chance to go in. Except the bastard parking attendant wouldn't let me park there. Apparently that lot was being used for buses only. But there was a big sign the said, "ZOO PARKING $12." I was confused. He directed me back around the block. By this point it was already a few minutes after 10:00. I started feeling a little panicky. I don't have a cell phone, so I couldn't call Rachel to explain my tardiness. I slowly crept back around the block. There were a million buses parked along that road, and I somehow missed the parking lot entrance. So, I had to drive down a few blocks and turn around. I went back up to the parking lot, but I was now turning left against the traffic. No one would stop to let me turn. NO ONE! I sat there for an eternity, and not one kind soul let me enter the parking area. This is the point where I completely lost my shit. I started screaming about parking lots and traffic and bastard drivers. Porgie started crying, and I knew that I had to get my act together.

I calmly went around the block, came back, and parked my car. I glanced over at the clock. It was 10:25. FUCK! I tossed the kids in the stroller and ran to the front entrance where we were supposed to meet our buddies. But Rachel was no where to be found. We bought our tickets and went inside anyways. It took me 30 minutes to find a damn parking spot - WE WERE GOING TO HAVE FUN DAMMIT!

A few minutes later I ran into Rachel. What are the odds? And we got to have our zoo playdate after all. The kids were adorable. Porgie and Max even held hands. It was sweet. Rachel was awesome, as usual. And Sam? I could eat her up. Too stinking cute!

And then I tried to leave the zoo. Somehow, I got lost. I have GPS. All I have to do is follow a green line. I am a complete moron.

The end.

PS - I would post pictures, but I FORGOT MY FUCKING CAMERA.

My hardwork pays off

I forgot to take pictures before I started. Sorry! After an hour of painting, I finally remembered to snap a few pictures. So without further ado, here is my fabulous new dining room (aka the playroom)...

Before...



After....


I still have to do the molding, but the walls are done. I think it looks great!

Doing shit

I have been feeling an overwhelming urge to get things done lately - like painting interior doors, organizing baby clothes, and cleaning bathtubs. I have no idea where this sudden bust of energy is coming from, but I'll take it! Actually, I think the need to accomplish something stems from my current job. I don't exactly get a sense of accomplishment from changing shitty diapers or cleaning vomit off of the floor. In order to make myself feel productive and useful and capable, I embark on crazy home improvement projects.

I have several ideas spinning in my head right now, but I think I am going to repaint the living room and dining room. I currently have a color called camel on the walls. I liked the color for a while, but now it just seems blah. Additionally, the kids have wrecked havoc on the flat paint. There are greasy hand prints everywhere. So, I stopped by the hardware store and picked up some color samples this weekend.

I am trying to be bold. I am trying to get away from the beige family, which I automatic tend to gravitate toward. After staring at paint samples for an eternity, I finally decided to paint the dining room a color called tundra. It is an medium shade of gray. And the living room will be driftwood, which is a brown. I am a little nervous about my color selections, because they are A LOT darker than our current colors. But I think they are beautiful. In the end, I hope I am happy with my choices.

I forgot to mention that we actually use our dining room as the playroom. We have an eat-in kitchen, so this works out great. Because the dining room is the playroom, I have a million posters and flashcards and sentence stripes taped to the walls. Tonight I have to take down all of the crap. Yipee! And then I have to convince my husband to remove all of the roman shades, so I can patch some holes in the molding. And then I have to tape up the edges.

Wait! This is starting to sound like a lot of hard work. Maybe I should rest on it for a few days.

Making room

This was the shed that the former homeowners left for us. Nice - right? They were classy people. My husband dismantled this old thing last month. YAY! But then we didn't know what to do with all of the debris. BOO! We called a company to come haul it away, but they wanted $500 to do it. Holy Guacamole! Do I look like I am made of money?

Instead, we decided to bribe the garbage men to take it. Every week John would haul a shit load of wood to the curb, along with a case of beer. And every week, the garbage men would happily take the beer and the debris. We threw away the shed over the course of 4 weeks, and it cost us a total of $78. AWESOME! We are sooooooo smart.

And now we have this...
More specially, we have this...A nice open space for our new swing set. I am so darn excited! We are going to enclose the play area with garden timbers and put down wood chips. We are also buying one of these...You know, so mommy will have a place to sit and rest. Am I lucky or what?

The good life

Izzy has been going through a whiny, clingy, and demanding stage. The kid is constantly crying at my feet. ANNOYING. I love the kid, but damn, he is loud and overbearing sometimes. When the shrieking starts, my eardrums feel like they are going to bleed.

And Porgie? Well, she is mommy # 2. She thinks it is her job to dictate what Izzy can and cannot do. She is constantly telling him "NO!", taking toys away from him, and ordering him around. The horrible part is that Izzy listens to her. He happily lets her steal his toy. He excitedly runs to retrieve her milk or her blanket. And he shares everything with her. I think Porgie needs to take a few lessons from Izzy.

But regardless of their crazy shenanigans, I think they are both great little people. I love them to pieces.

Did I really write that?

I am ashamed of my last post. I am a horrible person.

Let's pretend that I am not the world's biggest asshole, and talk about my recent home improvement project. I finally finished painting all of the interior doors in my house. Below are a few before and after pictures.

Before...

After...

Before...
After...
Looks good - right?

Things to stress over

My mother is coming to New Jersey in June. I have mixed feelings about her visit, but I am trying to be optimistic. I have already planned the first few days. We are going to the beach, the farm, the aquarium, and the children's museum. It should be a fun and action packed week.

However, I am also a little worried the trip. When my mother decided to come visit, I strongly encouraged her to get a hotel room. She refused and asked to stay at our house. I was a little disappointed. Our house is small. I just know that we are going to annoy each other. Shit, she annoys me when she is 10 hours away, so I KNOW she will annoy me.

My mother is the opposite of every mother you have ever meet. She has tattoos. She chain smokes. She curses like a sailor. Although I hate to admit it, she embarrasses me. I cringe at the thought of going out in public with her.

My mother also has numerous health problems. I don't feel comfortable getting into all the details, but I worry about her being in close contact with my children. I plan on cleaning like a maniac while she is here. Ugh. Just one more thing to worry about.

My mother is very ignorant about food. When she stayed with us back in 2007, she would only eat toast. I felt bad, so I made John go buy her fast food every night. But I am not doing that this time. She can eat what we eat, or starve to death.

I am a horrible person. Why am I so self absorbed? I should be happy that I get to see my mother and that the kids will get to see their grandmother. But instead, I am sitting here fretting and worrying about all of the detail. I suck. Why do you guys put up with me?

A penny saved is a penny earned? What does that mean?

You know, it is really hard to save money. REALLY HARD. John and I discussed our finances and hammered out an amount that we would like to save every month. But making this actually happen is tough.

After a whole year of complaining, I finally convinced my husband that we desperately needed a swing set for the children. Last weekend we ordered this little beauty...It is fabulous! But it is also EXPENSIVE. Oops.

In our backyard, we have a shitty chain link fence. It is tacky and old, but it confines our dog, so I try not to complain too much about it. However, our neighbor is selling her house, so it is sitting empty right now. John thought that this would be a perfect time to replace the fence, because we could rip out all of the chain link without having to ask for permission. And since I hate the chain link fence, I wholeheartedly agreed with his plan. We want this...And guess what? It is EXPENSIVE.

Obviously we only like saving money in theory.

Do you think I am weird?

I thought John's post was pretty hilarious. I wanted to clarify a few things he mentioned in his story.

1. I really was unusually happy when I was younger. I liked everyone and everything. Something happened over the past 12 years, because I am a moody bitch now. Everyone and everything gets on my nerves.

2. After we started dating, John gave me the ring from the 50 cent machine. I still have it...
3. John mentioned that I cheeked him several times. I am the QUEEN of cheeking. To this day, I still cheek him A LOT. I am just not really that into kissing. Is that weird?

4. Yes, I did have a doll hanging from a noose on my canopy bed. But it was a porcelain doll, not a baby doll. Because I was cool like that. Or disturbing like that? I am not really sure which one. For the record, I was not a preppy cheerleader type of girl back then. I was more of an alternative rock kid. I was really into grunge music. I think the doll hanging from a noose was inspired by the song Doll Parts.

5. I found it very interesting that John was distracted by the music situation in his bedroom that fateful night 12 years ago. Because I have very little recollection of the music.

Well, this was fun. I highly recommend you and your husband give it a try. I think it reveals a lot about your personality. I feel like you guys know me a lot better now.

How to snag a lady: Part John

I actually convinced my husband to write his version of how we started dating! If you need to read my version, go here. John is a pretty funny guy, and I think this comes through in his writing. Enjoy...

Back in my early twenties I was living the good life. I just moved in with my Dad, I had a sweet Ford Escort hatchback that was in the shop once a month, and I had just quit my temp job assembling conveyor belts. I couldn’t ask for anything better. Being a person that turns lemons into lemonade (sans sugar) I decided to turn my part time job of delivering pizza into a full time gig.

There was this unusually happy girl that I worked with every once in a while, but now that I was working at Mio’s Pizzeria 7 days a week, we were seeing a lot more of each other. Our encounters usually went like this. Boy makes fun of girl, girl pummels boy with fists. One time she asked to see one of my skull rings I got out of a 50 cent machine and she wouldn’t give it back. Instead of forcibly taking it back and risk a beating, I decided to go with the whine, stomp my feet, and tell her I hate her approach. And just two hours later, my method proved successful.

One night however, things started to change. She was cooking up orders and I said “Hey Christy”. When she turned around, I threw a handful of flour in her face. She proceeded to chase me out the back door of the kitchen and into the parking lot. I turned around and grabbed her by the wrists to restrain her fury. It was at that moment that I almost leaned in and kissed her. I told her I’d let her go if she didn’t punch me and she agreed. Then she punched me.

Things went on this way for a while longer and one night Jason, the tubby stoner that usually gave her a ride home, was not working and I agreed to give her a ride. I was borrowing one of my friend’s cars because my baby was getting a new engine or transmission or something fucking important that shouldn’t have needed to be replaced. God I miss that car. Anyway, she was pretty disgusted because as she was getting in, I said “Wait, there’s puke all over that seat” and being the gentleman that I was, I threw another flannel shirt over top of it.

Shortly after that (I think the next weekend) I went home after work, got drunk, and headed back to Mio’s to act like I was casually stopping in because I was bored. In reality, I went back to ask her if she needed a ride home. Jason was working that night and as closing time drew near, I asked her if she needed a ride home. It was kind of awkward because Jason was right there and I thought that he liked her, but I thought fuck that tubby bitch and asked anyway. What made it even more awkward, for Jason, was when she said yes.

In retrospect, I probably shouldn’t have gotten loaded before I picked up a girl I was starting to like because I was looking over at her and talking and I almost went straight at a bend and ran into a telephone poll. Whatever I was saying must have been pretty funny because she didn’t seem to mind that I almost killed her. Once we got back to her house she asked me if I wanted to come in. I remember her room was a little creepy because, if my memory serves me correct, she had a baby doll hanging from a noose off of her canopy bed. We were sitting on her bed and I made my move and she cheeked me. Normally I would take that as a sign of disinterest and move along, but I was drunk so I asked her if she wanted to go see my puppy, Puppy. Girls like puppies, right?

When we got back to my pad (my dad’s basement) I promptly said I was tired and wanted to go to sleep. I thought, okay she’s lying in bed with me in the dark. She has to like me somewhat. So I went to kiss her and…she cheeked me. Son of a bitch. Then I figured out what I was doing wrong. No music. Every movie I’ve ever seen there was music playing while people were getting it on. What this make out session needed was a soundtrack. For some reason I put on Grateful Dead. I guess that makes sense. Hippies…free love? That was the trick. After one of two more cheekings she submitted and we got it going on. There was one flaw in the soundtrack theory. My stereo sucked and it didn’t replay disks, so every time the music stopped I had to get up and hit play again. After the first round of The Dead, I put in some Dookie by Green Day. You know, because I wanted an album that’s even shorter so I had to get up even more. In the bed, things progressed faster than I thought they would. I was rounding third, but there were two problems. I kept getting interrupted by having to restart the fucking CD and when I’m drunk my biologicals don’t work like they should. I tried to focus, but the embarrassment was too much to bear and I couldn’t get the fact that I was limp as a gimp out of my mind. So I decided it would be best to give up and just go to sleep.

The next morning I was driving her home and for some reason I told her that I didn’t want a girlfriend or anything. Don’t get me wrong, I liked her and everything, but I just wasn’t sure if I was ready to be flaccid with just one girl. She told me not to worry because she didn’t want a boyfriend. I was off the hook, but she sounded a little pissed when she said it. I think she just didn’t want a boyfriend that couldn’t get it up. Understood. Needless to say the ride home was a bit awkward. I pulled up in front of her house, we said our goodbyes, and I never saw her again. Until the next night…and practically every night for the next 12 years.

Snippets in pictures

I got the best deal at Target the other day. Apparently they are getting rid of their store brand diapers, so they discounted the remaining products. A box of 90 diapers was only...
$9.58! AMAZING! I got so excited that I couldn't stop loading boxes into my cart. Hence the reason Porgie's room now looks like a warehouse...

__________

I got a box of butter creams for Mother's Day. OH MY FREAKING GOD, these chocolates were amazing. I ate them all. A whole pound. And they were delicious.
__________

Here is a picture of the tree that is offending my neighbors...

It is a big, beautiful maple tree. I love it. I haven't found anyone willing to trim the tree for less that $300. That is just too expensive. So, John is going to try to trim back a few branches this weekend.
__________

Porgie's hair is just completely unmanageable lately...Maybe I should start brushing it?
__________

I don't know why this picture came out with a red tint, but I think Izzy looks so angelic in it...

Mrs. Indecisive

UGH. I have serious attachment issues with my children.

A few months ago, I blogged about whether or not to send Porgie to preschool. Your comments were very helpful, and I ultimately decided to register her for 3-year-old preschool this fall. For the past month, I have been completely at peace with my decision. But in the past few days, I have started reconsidering my plans.

First, school will interfere with our normal schedule. We won't be able to go to story time anymore. We LOVE story time. Second, she will only be three. School isn't really a necessity at this age - right? Third, she will probably get sick a lot. I don't like it when my babies are sick. Fourth, preschool is EXPENSIVE. Do we really want to spread ourselves thin trying to pay for 3-year-old preschool? And finally, I am not sure I am ready to send my baby off with strangers.

Although all of my concerns are valid, number five is really the only one holding us up. How do I know I can trust these people? Yes, they look like nice people. And they have all had background checks. But, I still don't want to leave my baby with them. They aren't going to love her like I do. They won't think she is the most amazing, smartest, funniest girl in the whole wide world. They won't know how to make her feel better when she is sad. Let's cut to the chase here - they just aren't as good as mommy.

So, I think we might be skipping preschool this fall. Next year she'll definitely go, but this year I want to keep her all to myself.

Is this wierd?

Porgie enjoys coloring. She spends a large portion of her free time coloring with crayons, markers, and chalk. What can I say, she is an artistic and creative little girl.

I picked up her coloring book the other day and started flipping through the pages. I noticed something really strange.

Page 1: just hands and feet...

Page 2: just feet...

Page 3: just the head...

I thought these pictures were hilarious. What was she thinking? Little weirdo.

AHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHHHH!

For the past three years, we have had a problem with ants in the Spring. Every time you would turn around, an ant would be ambling across the carpet. It was frustrating, but by early June the ants were always gone. This year we haven't had any ants. Not even one. This would be awesome, except for the fact that another nasty bug has invaded our home.

I keep finding these crazy looking brown bugs in our house. They are about the size of a nickle, and they can fly. Their bodies are shaped almost like a shield. They are incredibly slow and dumb, so they are really easy to catch, but I am terrified of them. Smashing them is one of the most disturbing things I have ever done. They are BIG. And their bodies are hard. Just thinking about that crunching sound gives me cold chills.

Anyways, for the past month we have had to kill about 1 bug per day. Usually John is home, and I make him kill the little bastards. But on Friday night, John killed 2 of the bugs before he went to bed, and and then I had to kill 2 more before I went to bed. FOUR BUGS IN ONE NIGHT! AHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHH! AHHHHHHHHH! It was terrifying.

I got myself worked up into such a frenzy that I couldn't sleep. I was convinced that there were bugs in my bed. What if they crawled on me while I was sleeping? What if they were in the kids' rooms? AHHHHHHHHH!

So instead of sleeping, I got up and looked on online to find out more about these nasty creatures. I found a picture online. You might not want to look. You'll have nightmares.Are you freaked the fuck out? Because I definitely am. It is actually called a Brown Marmorated Stink Bug. A STINK BUG! AHHHHHHHH!

I guess we need to call someone to spray an insecticide around the perimeter of our house. But is that safe for kids? Okay, that picture of the stink bug is grossing me out, so I have to go. Please send help.

Goodbye friend

My cousin called me over the weekend to report that the house we used to own in Kentucky is vacant. All of the doors and windows have been boarded up. At first, I was only mildly interested in this story. However after a few days, curiosity got the best of me. I started searching around online for more information. I thought that perhaps there had been a house fire, so I started reading through the archives on the Kentucky Post website.

I never found any useful information about my former residence, but I did stumble across an article about a teacher I used to work with. Her name was Marty. We were both hired the same year to teach 3rd grade. Our rooms were right across the hall from one another. She was a sweet person, who really enjoyed her job. Everyone liked Marty - myself included. I ended up moving to NJ mid-year, and I lost contact with her.

Marty died this past February. When I read the article, I was shocked. She was young and beautiful. I never would have suspected that she had heart trouble. Also, she left behind a newborn baby girl. My heart just aches for her family. I can't even begin to imagine their pain and grief. Since reading the news article, my stomach has been tied in knots. It is just so sad and so unexpected.

Goodbye friend.

Free time Activities

I probably should have mentioned that the Hello Kitty cake I baked on Tuesday was just a practice cake. Porgie doesn't actually turn 3 until June. So I have plenty of time to perfect my cake decorating skills:)
__________

I have a set routine when it comes to blogging. I read your blogs while the kids are napping. And I write my posts when the kids go to sleep for the night. But lately, I have been trying to cram everything into the naptime blogging session. At night, I have been busy painting doors.

Our interior doors are ugly. UGLY. I told my husband that I wanted to paint them. He rolled his eyes and said that the doors looked fine. With no help from John, I decided to start painting a door every night. It is a pain in the ass, because I have to primer first. So, it actually takes two days to paint one door. But it is totally worth it. Look at the before and after...


I have successfully completed two doors - only seven more to go!

I am here to humor you

Porgie's 3rd birthday is fast approaching. We took her to Party City last weekend to pick out a theme for her party. She fell head over heels in love with the Hello Kitty supplies. Since I like to make homemade vegan birthday cakes, I looked for a Hello Kitty shaped cake pan at the party store. They didn't have one. We drove to the craft store. They didn't have one either. I decided to just buy the pan online. But this plan was foiled when I discovered that the cheapest price I could find it for was $17.99 (and I'd have to pay shipping too). SCREW THAT! I am not paying $20 for a cake pan that I am going to use once.

I started searching around online, and I stumbled across this website. They made it look so easy. After reading a few descriptions on how to make a Hello Kitty cake, I decided that I could totally do this by myself. Shit, it is just an oval shaped head, with two triangle shaped ears. Easy peasy!

This is a picture of the cake I wanted to make...

This is a picture of my lame-ass attempt...

Stop laughing internet!

Recommendations

Blogging is a strange thing. I get sentimentally attached to you guys, even when you have basically given up on blogging. I took a long hard look at my list of feeds in Bloglines last night. I was shocked that I had so many blogs in my reader - nearly 70. I was even more shocked when I realized that some of these people hadn't updated since November of 08'. That is just crazy. Why do I still have these blogs in my reader? Maybe it is because I feel like I am friends with these random strangers. We have never met, and you never update me on your life anymore, but we are still friends - right? So, as hard as it was, I made some cuts last night. I am down to 43 blogs. Not too bad.

But I want to find a few more good reads. If you are reading this, I probably already read you. So, I want to hear some good recommendations from little old you. Is there a blog out there that is AMAZING? I want to hear about it! Is there a blog there that is HILARIOUS? I want to hear about it!

To kick off the party, I am going to link you to one of my favorite reads. I love Crib Chronicles. This is one of the most well written blogs I have ever read. Bon seriously needs to write a book, because she has talent. Go check her out!

Your turn.

Fuckity fuck fuck

Izzy has been sick for about a month. He will be really sick for 3 or 4 days, and then he'll get better for a few days and then he'll be sick again for a few days. Rinse and repeat. I am sooooooo tired of my whiny, clingy baby. I just want him to play happily. And sleep peacefully.

After feeling bad at the end of last week, he seemed to be on the mend over the weekend. His cough was subsiding, and his nose was less runny. When I woke up this morning with a sore throat, I wanted to fucking scream. We are all sick. AGAIN. I had to endure a morning filled with crying and whining and refusing to eat.

So when my neighbor, a frail old woman, knocked on my door to report that a branch from our tree had fallen onto her fence, I almost lost my shit. I think I rolled my eyes at her. And I am pretty sure I was rude. I said something to the effect of, "I KNOW THAT OUR TREE IS HANGING OVER YOUR DRIVEWAY. I TOLD YOU THAT WE WILL HAVE THE TREE TRIMMED. GO HOME OLD WOMAN!" Okay, maybe I didn't tell her to go home, but I was annoyed. This is the third time she has complained about our tree. If a fucking twig falls into her yard, she wants us to trim our tree. GAH!

Actually, last year she had her son trim the tree without even telling us. I didn't really care - whatever makes you happy old woman. But the constant bitching about the tree? I could live without that. So, I called several tree companies this morning. The cheapest quote I got was for $321. TO TRIM BACK A FEW BRACHES? What the fuck? That seems really expensive. Bastards.

In summary, we are sick, my neighbor is annoying, and trimming a tree is expensive. The end.

Skinny and Happy?

Skinny and happy. I think that is an oxymoron. I seem to be completely unable to achieve this balance. I can be happy and fat or I can be skinny and miserable. I love food. Really, I love it. Eating food is like the BEST form of entertainment. "It's our anniversary - let's eat out!" "It's my birthday - let's eat out!" "It rained today - let's eat out!" "My favorite color is yellow - let's eat out!"

So, I have slowly been creeping back up the scales. I am currently at 183, which sucks ass. I weighed 168 at Christmas, and I was truly starting to feel thin again. But I was miserable too. I hated denying myself of all the sugary, deliciousness in the world. And since allowing myself to indulge in chocolate again, I have been feeling really great. But I know that this feeling won't last. One morning I am going to roll out of bed and I won't be able to button my jeans. And then I won't be so happy anymore.

I guess I need to find some sort of middle ground. Why am I having so much trouble just maintaining a weight? I go up and down and up and up and up and then down. It is times like these when I feel out of control. Why is food always such a struggle? GAH!

A little more

I was hesitant to tell the story of how John and I started dating. I feared that the story made me sound like a whore and made John sound like an impotent asshole. None of which is true. I hope you were able to find humor in our boring little tale. It is not really a story I can tell people face to face, because it is just kind of...weird. And a little too much information for people who aren't good friends. But I find it amusing.

Other facts about Johnny and me...
1. John is 7 years older than me.
2. When we first started dating, I told my mother that John was my gay friend, so she would stop pressing me for details about our relationship.
3. John quit working at the pizza place a few months after we started dating. I worked there for two more years, until the little hole-in-the-wall restaurant closed down. It is now a Starbucks.
4. When we moved in together in 2000, we actually bought a house.
5. In January of 2005, we were taking a trip to Baltimore. At the last minute, we decided to get married. Just the two of us - no family, no friends. It was a wonderful experience. I highly recommend it.
6. We were married on the inner harbor, right in front of the USS Constellation...7. The following summer, we decided to start trying for a baby. We started in June. I got pregnant in September. Porgie was born the following June.

And I think you guys know the rest of the story.

I am trying to get John to write his own version of how we started dating. I stole this idea from Kate. I think it would be really neat to read the story from his perspective. But he is lazy, and will probably never get around to it.