Friday, July 30, 2010

While giving "mouth to mouth" my mannequin's head fell off...the teacher was not pleased when I shouted, "bag it and throw it on ICE!"

Its Friday and I am super tired.
Like, I just drank a bottle of NyQuil tired.

You know, body is tired but mind is buzzing, and you are here but not really here, cause you are kinda tripping from all the chemicals.
That type of tired.
Minus the drug use.

After my battle with whooping cough, bronchitis, and PNEUMONIA, I can no longer take any type of cough medicine without puking my eyeballs out. Just saying, in case you think I am harboring some sort of NyQuil addiction.

I spent my day locked in a tiny room sucking face with mannequins.

 I got re-certified in CPR, and Fire Safety. Which means, (Since I was a lifeguard for many years) that I made out with a doll for two hours, and learned how to "Stop, drop, and roll."
Total vital information if I ever decide to cook again, with grease.

Also, I learned that if Josh chokes on a hot dog,  I should slam his body into a chair....cause my tiny frame couldn't possibly provide enough force to dislodge food from his airway.
Since I fiercely disagreed with her, I decided to test her theory while Josh was busy chopping onions.

Lets just say, I "hypothetically" totally saved his life.

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Mom's Night in

I used to participate in yoga classes. Like the classes you shell out 20 bucks a pop for.
I loved those sweaty, heart opening sessions, where my teacher would encourage, adjust and motivate.
I miss them.
I obviously do not have extra cash lying around to part take in any type of yoga class, so I have to make do with Fit TV. 
OR, I have to self motivate. This does not usually end well, since it usually consists of  me whipping through poses, practically hyperventilating in order to get to the handstands, or tree pose-into crow pose, ( used mainly as a party trick, or a way to dislocate my hip.) Without instructional guidance, I totally jump into hard core yoga without the needed foreplay, and usually end up hurt.
Wow. That totally sums up my personality.
So anyways, tonight I was feeling antsy- I have been itching to get outside and clock some miles -but between being a mommy, and it being OH, 110 OUTSIDE, things have not been working out for me. So I punched the buttons of the on demand remote, laid out my yoga mat, and decided to let the lady on the TV instruct me on my breathing.
And I have to say, It was awesome. Besides the unrelenting fear that my in laws would come busting in through the door, only to find me ass over backwards, in some sort of head on floor, butt in air pose, it all went pretty smoothly.
I am always really impressed when I can lay my head down on my legs, even when I am feeling out of sorts. Yoga totally changed my life-and it is such a pleasure to realize, that no matter how crazy my life is, or how unsettled I feel, I can always fall back into a yoga routine, and find my balance. Even if it's streaming through a crappy yoga DVD.
After my 45 min session on the mat, I made myself dinner.
Salad was really good, but I could have definitely done without the hot peppers.
I don't really know what I was thinking.

Off to finish lesson plans. Hope everyone had a wonderful Tuesday!

Monday, July 26, 2010

New training methods -

If you are ever in need of a torture device, hand my daughter four pans, and a few cookie sheets. She could bring ANYONE to their knees begging to be slaughtered in a matter of seconds.

There is nothing sexual about that sentence.

The noise pierces my soul.

 Its a toss up folks, do I let her entertain herself with the pots and pans, so that she refrains from screaming and/or wrapping long pieces of string tightly around her neck, or do I toss said metal torture devices in the back end of the cabinets, thus setting her into a full on THROW DOWN.
Its a conundrum.
As of right now, I am half a second from knocking myself out with the pasta pan to avoid the searing, pulsating headache that is creeping behind my ears.
Or running out into the street for five or ten miles.
In the rain.
I mean, in the thunder and lightening storm that we are having, that was brought on by the 110 degrees of Suck Ville that is happening outside. And excuse me, spell check, Suck Ville is a real place, its called Atlanta in AUGUST.

I ran three miles in Suck Ville yesterday and almost died.
I am thinking running in the rain might be fun, and running real real fast to avoid lightening could be a new form of speed training...No?

What? That doesn't look like a good time?!

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Catching up

I have a baby with a fever, a very high fever.
I suspect Roseola.
Unfortunately for everyone, we have to wait for the fever to break to see if she sprouts a herpes rash.
So far fever is hanging steady at 103.

She is currently sleeping on top of two down filled pillows.

Friday Josh and I ventured out to see a band play in a smoke infested bar. It was fine except for the smoking, I thought smoking in public places ended like fifteen years ago......? Josh got drunk, and I sipped on diet coke.
The band was really good though. Plus, who wouldn't want to hang out in a bar that sells sleeves of balls?

Saturday morning I dragged my tired butt out of bed and completed a five mile run.
The temp was hanging out at around 80, so it was nice and cool. Bhahhha did that sentence just appear on the screen?
But after said run I was knocked flat on my ass from a migraine and proceeded to watch Food, Inc and was BLOWN AWAY. I am talking  like, ON THE PHONE WITH MY MOM, DEMANDING that she watch this film. If I didn't eat meat or dairy for animal reasons before, let me be clear, Its an Animal thing now.

Holy, smooshing pigs to death.
I immediately took the movie to heart -not only the animal cruelty, but the chemicals and bacteria in the foods that we eat everyday. I am not going to harp on it, cause I can feel some of you (Josh) rolling your eyes. Just humor me and watch the movie, if you don't at least feel slightly irritated, grossed out, or even a little bit differently about your grocery store...then well, maybe I am a crazy cat loving, tree hugging, hippie.

I was able to find a Farmer's Market pretty close by that is open Saturday mornings, So next Saturday I am off with Josh's mom to gather fresh veggies and fruit-I am more then a little bit excited about this trip.

So is Allessandra, clearly.

Thursday, July 22, 2010

You only meant to do two miles. But there is something about pushing those ear buds deep into your ears, letting the door slam behind you, muffling the screeching of a toddler and the barking of dogs. Even though the heat hits you like a tidal wave of lava, even though your pits start dripping sweat, and your hair instantly curs up, as soon as your feet hit the pavement, you are free.

Running was something I shared with my Dad. 

My Dad ran, but was not cocky about it.   He had great admiration for distance runners; he respected the sport. I never asked him why he ran, its something I wish I could sit down with him and talk about now. My brother too, he was always a better running then I, tall, lanky, he had the build and stamina of a distance runner-he just lacked the dedication.
On my long runs, especially the surprise long runs, when I head out only thinking about doing two, and end up doing six, I feel almost like they are both running along side with me, in perfect rhythm.
Anyone watch Six Feet Under? You know the season finale when Nate is convincing Claire to still get up and go to New York, and hes running in the rear view mirror (he's dead, and she is seeing his case you don't know) You can watch the finale HERE ..anyways, that's how I always see my Dad and brother, clad in running gear, pushing me along.
I think that's why I fell out of love with running for so long, it was too hard to run and not think of them. Now I embrace it, every good song, every gust of wind, every burst of momentum pushing me up a hill, I smile.

Anyways, I was able to push through 5.8 miles, in the blazing heat, (I know, you get it. ITS HOT, shutting up) I refueled with bean salad, bread, kidney beans, corn, and a protein shake.
My legs are definitely feeling it right now.
Time to ice!

I leave you with a picture of my cutie pie

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Little lessons

The heat makes my rash worse.

Running five miles in 100% humidity certainly made it look A LOT enough for me to curse rather loudly standing nude in the bathroom, twirling around in circles trying to gauge the rash situation that was happening on my bottom half.

How did I get herpes just on one butt cheek..... "JOSH, COME LOOK AT MY RASH!"

He never showed up.

He doesn't care particularly for my roseola. Like, when I tried to discuss it with him in the middle of Walmart, only to find him in the next isle over smashing his fingers on a tiny green caterpillar's keypad.

SH. SH. SH. I. I. I. T. T. T.

Giggle. Giggle. Giggle.
"Look baby, I made it say shit!"
Really Josh?

Besides the rash, I am feeling better, today's run was spectacular. And oddly easy. Even in this awful heat. I am thinking its time to sign up for another half, and work my way to a marathon.....I am hoping, and praying that my first marathon gets to be something Disney related. I am so close now, driving distance, that it would be so amazing to kick off my first with a really fun one.
Josh says he is not driving 9 hours and paying out the ass so that I can run from nothing, for no reason.
What can I say, we have different ideas of fun.

What I learned from today's run.
1. 94 with 99% humidity is not a good time.
2. The humidity will make a dead rabbit's carcass smell, rather ripe and will make you throw up. Thus, making people "concerned" for you, since you are clearly an idiot, running outside in the desert heat, throwing up. 
3. Always bring water.  I would so love this hydration pack, from (Hint, birthday is coming up, hint)

4. White sports bra + sweat=see through
5. Stretching is important, more important then catching up on FB and reading blogs. Your knees WILL swell to the size of melons. 

6. This grilled pizza is a terrific dinner, along with almond milk and two scoops of soy protein.

Don't be alarmed at the rash all over my face. Its just face herpes.

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

I am the oldest two year old....ever.

You know when you find a point in your life when things are going REALLY great, and for that one brief moment you want to shout it to the heavens, "LOOK, I AM HEALTHY, and HAPPY!"


Then you decide to write it on your blog that you have never been healthier, or happier...and then guess what happens.

You get sick.

But not like normal people sick. Not a common cold, or a case of the runs.

  Nope.  Not for me.

Little kid sick. Which, in my personal opinion far exceeds any adult sickness, because little kid diseases hit adults directly in the balls.

 I caught ROSEOLA

R o s e o l a-

Fever, and a rash. Like, a rash rash, like a RASH, RASH ON MY LEGS.


 As I hiked up my shorts to display my lovely splotches, I prayed that what I was showing off, was not obviously chicken pox, or Scarlet Fever, or God forbid Herpes.. (cause how awkward would that be?)
And when everyone was looking and judging my thighs I just kept talking:

 "I haven't sat on any public toilets, I hover, I really do, I hover so long sometimes that my thighs shake, but I think that's good, right, its a terrific workout, you know squats.. I haven't seen the inside of a Porta potty since last year, and even then I peed so far away from the pot that I basically peed on the floor.."
"Why are you staring?"  "WHAT?"  IS THIS HERPES?!"

 Seeing as though Josh has his MEDICAL DEGREE, he advised me, that the reason why I was covered in a *herpes rash and was *dying of a fever, was because I was eating too many nuts and vegetables and not eating dairy. "Your body is rejecting hummus and tofu, hence your rash."


I spent a good portion of my day buried under heaps of covers with an ice pack on my head, cursing nasty disease infested children.
However, as quickly as it came on, it left just as fast. Which I am grateful for, cause rashes are icky.

I was able to get out of bed this morning at 4am, not for a run, since I decided to give my virus hoarding body a rest-but instead tried to do some light yoga, and stretch out my sore muscles.
I think I am feeling good enough today to do a quick run later on tonight, I think it best to push it harder at night so that I can sleep and rest after, instead of having to go about my day.

Do you run Am, or PM....thoughts?

Sunday, July 18, 2010

Dining with me is a blast.....

"Can I get this without cheese?"
The waiter glances up from his shiny black notepad, all the while nodding, scribble, scribble, nod, nod, "Sure, sure," he says without skipping a beat.
We are packed into a booth at a local Mexican restaurant, which is not the ideal place to be placing orders without meat, or cheese- lets be honest, most Mexican cuisine comes equipped with melted cheese, soupy cheese, (hello queso) and straight up, well, CHEESE. I wont really get into the meat factor, since before my vegan days, chicken still scared the crap out of me, I have given myself food poison enough to not fully trust chicken.

5 minutes later, a man comes up to our table all dressed in his manager getup, I think that perhaps we will get our meal for free, since I have had to send my drink back like fifty times, I prepare to be totally gracious.

"Are you the one who ordered your meal without cheese?" he says, rather judgmentally, I might add. "The food that you ordered is a mix in cheese, so what exactly would you like in your burrito?
I immediately know that whatever ends up on my plate will most certainly be chalk full of someone's pubic hair, and or spit.

Did that gross you out? Well, imagine my panic. I had already sent back my drink, since it tasted like raw sewage.
I hate sending food back, I also hate drawing attention to myself when ordering food, shit shit shit shit shit.
"Um, I just want everything that was suppose to be on the burrito, just, um, without the cheese."

 I ended up with an avocado wrap.
And rice.
And salsa.
and my drink still tasted like sewage.
I bet someone peed in it.

However complicated this whole change of eating has been, and BOY people have their opinions about what is best for me, I have seriously never felt better.
Since switching to vegan: I have way more energy, my runs are smoother, and stronger. I find that my joints do not hurt as much.
My face is glowing- I usually have issues with splotchy/dry/ uneven tones especially around "that time of the month" but this time, even glow.
Also staying with that, this is the first month that I have not had to throw back fist fulls of Advil due to my uterus trying to escape my body.
No cramps.

I know, right, amazing.

Totally worth pissing off people in restaurants.

. These "cookies" are incredible, I found the recipe over at Trainer Momma's blog
Trust me, even Josh ate them. Soooooo good!
I finally was able to find dairy free ice cream, and OMG the best thing I have ever had.....

Saturday, July 17, 2010

Just a dream

I am uncomfortable. I don't like talking about these things.
I cross and uncross my legs, feeling the sweat dribble down the back of my ankle.

"It feels like flies," I say awkwardly, brushing the moisture away with my big toe, "I hate this fucking heat."

She looks at me momentarily, as if my swearing suddenly jarred her into reality, "Why, the hell did you move here, anyways?"
I wipe the mass of sweaty bangs out of my face, and reach for my glass of water, "Isn't that what we came here to talk about?"

She wipes the sweat that has slowly made its way down the back of her neck, "Everything is already taken care of, there is nothing more that you have to do."
I feel my stomach tighten, "That's what you keep saying, but look where we've ended up."

She leans forward, letting her curls fall into sticky waves around her shoulders. "Here, is where you ended up, I don't plan on staying very long."

She sets her glass carefully on the wicker table beside her, and moves to stand up. I have watched her leave a million times in my dreams-like some sort of picture movie in slow motion.
As soon as she gets up from the chair, I can feel her fading, just like before, just like a million times before. I am once again in full on panic, trying to pull her back, make her sit.

 Its only my voice I hear when I open my eyes.

"Don't go."

Thursday, July 15, 2010

When I mention that I willingly got out of bed at 4am to run, people usually are not very nice.
Like, almost bitchy.
As if I told them I ran at 4am to win some invisible contest.

Its not so much of a time thing, as it is a sweaty ass thing.

I tried to run in the afternoon.

I have also almost died of dehydration.
 Had my thighs rub together in a sweaty chafing mass of horror, and had my running shorts stick so tightly to my body, that they flossed my lower intestines.

Plus, running with a camel toe is not pretty,or comfortable.

There is no section in Runner's world magazine that tells you how to run while trying to drag your running shorts out of your body.

I am not a fan of sweaty cotton.

Especially in my bathing suit area.

Dr Oz told me, that's how you get chlamydia , or was it yeast infections?

 Plus, when I am running, especially in neighborhoods, I like to look like I know what I am doing.

Which is why I don't wear a fannypack. 


Its also why I still wear my running shorts even tho they still don't fit me exactly right since growing a living being inside my body for 9 months.
Can you say Muffin top?

Plus running at 4am lets me look into people's windows
And steal their newspaper
and get a contact high from the gentleman who smokes up every morning, leaning against his minivan.

Although every morning I think he is going to murder me.
Or offer me candy.
Or both.
Perhaps I should think of a different route.

But anyways, running outside, in the dark, lets my muffin top be sticky free.

That sounded a lot dirtier then I intended it to.

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Don't roll your eyes at me!

You know when you have really good intentions to get up at 430am and run, but like, the idea of doing it, is like clamping your face into a hot George Foreman grill? That's how this morning went with me.
Although, I didn't even bother trying to talk myself into dragging my poor pathetic self out of bed. From the first ring of my alarm, my phone was tossed to the other side of the room. That'll show em!
So long story short, I got up at my regular time, ready to conquer breakfast, you know, hippie style.
I attempted smoothie #1. That some how malfunctioned, just enough, for the rubber base to some how appear in my drink, in chunks. 
Smoothie #2. Was with a different type of almond milk, and although super creamy and delicious, not as awesome as the previous one would have been, you know, minus the hardware.  Plus, I got super impatient and just added almonds since I used up all my almond butter in the first smoothie. So, it basically was a smoothie, that I chewed. 
As you can see, I had to supplement my breakfast with oatmeal and a tiny spoonful of peanut butter.  I seriously was not hungry again until 10:30, (I ate breakfast at 5:30) this is HUGE considering there were days I would come to school at 7:00 and be ravenous.
Of course I still brought snacks, just in case.
Applesauce, Cherries, raisins.

Lunch was a wrap full of hummus, tomatoes and carrots all pureed in the food processor, with a side of beets, and not shown is a few spoonfuls of rice and beans. YUM.

Dinner was a mix of veggies, and whole wheat pasta. I checked the label of the pasta since Josh was standing with his hands on his hips DEFIANT that pasta was made purely of EGGS AND MILK- thus pointing a finger at me, shouting, "LIAR! SHE'S A  FAKE VEGAN- Booooooooo Chelsea Booooooo!"
And look, even if I get emails stating that that pasta was made from the wheat that baby pigs roll in, I don't care. I am not that hardcore. Meat and Dairy people. This is not an animal thing, although I see why people do it-this is a I don't enjoy feeling like a pile of donkey shit thing.
The pasta and veggies were amazing and totally filling. Usually after dinner I am craving something sweet and I am happy to report I feel incredibly satisfied. 
I might whip up some pudding tho, in case I get a hankering for some chocolate later.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Chelsea gone Vegan....

Why is there such a stigma on veganisim? I am perplexed. I tell people that I have gone vegan and suddenly its as if I somehow morphed into a tree hugging, hairy pitted, hippie and people are suddenly so...negative. But if I make a little switch a roo to the vocab and simple declare, "Yeah I am laying off meat, since I don't really even like it and cutting out dairy from my diet, cause it makes me have explosive diarrhea. " Then all of sudden people are understanding and they suddenly have a cousin that has problems with wheat, dairy, gluten...whatever. But you slap a label on that? You are done for. No, you may NOT call yourself VEGAN, they are dirty, uptight hippies, that hang out under bridges gnawing on grass.

Mentioning your eating habits will be a lot like mentioning that you got up at 4am to run. *Insert, eye rolling HERE*

The only thing that I have truly done, for real, is cut out processed food, meat, and dairy. And since I don't even eat meat, and my dairy consists of half and half in my coffee, and an occasional whole cheesecake, I have managed to survive.
Doesn't this look SO GROSS?! It wasn't tho, it was magnificent. Chopped carrots and raisins, with hummus and kidney beans....YUM.  Kiwi and some cherries kept me full for H O U R S
I then of course had to make my own almond butter and spread that all over a banana, again, such an amazing filling snack. I really couldn't ask for more.
Dinner is not shown, mainly cause I feel like an A hole taking pictures at the dinner table. But today is Josh's 30th birthday! Wooho, so he wanted steak. Everyone but me had steak, while I filled up on corn, beans, rice and beets. 
Josh, also wanted cake like, cake cake. Not the box cake that I was planning on throwing together.

Like, a piece of one of these bad boys. 

Red velvet, anyone?
As I write this, Allie is still on a sugar high.

I of course did not part take in the eating of the massive cakes, although I did order an superb pomegranate, blueberry acai smoothie that knocked my socks off. It was also like sticking my fist into a sugar bowl and going to town. Although, naturally sweeten, I am sure that drink far exceeded the sweetness of both cakes.

It was like baby kittens and pumpkins all wrapped up in one. 

Sharing your birthday cake with your daughter, that's love.

Happy Birthday Love, So glad that you are now a hairless, jobless, 30 year old. 
The beard, for real, had to go.

Monday, July 12, 2010


I stumbled upon a blog today, that captivated me for HOURS. For real. I only paused a moment to scrape my sticky sweaty self off the couch and go out for a RUN. Yes, a RUN in this disgusting heat. She has inspired me to incorporate 10 minutes of yoga into my everyday life, and to start training again. I am full of excuses as of lately. Its too hot, I am too tired, I don't have time, I am too stressed, yadda yadda stuffing face full of cookies, yadda. 
But no longer! I am focused, I am excited. My run was awesome this afternoon, and even if I was praying that the huge ominous cloud would mercifully open up and drench me in rain, so that I could quit so I would be refreshed, I still did the whole run, and even if it was only a meager 2 miles, chalk full of hills, I still did it. And I am proud.
I am so thrilled to find real inspiration, something that I can look back to, and research. I have so many HUGE things potentially coming up for me in the near future, and I think during that run, for the first time in a loooooong time. I felt like I was in control of it all, instead of the other way around.

Saturday, July 10, 2010

And reason 2887 why I am right, and Josh is wrong.

Oh yes my friends, oh yes. That right there is pee. Straight from my 16 month old-to you internet.

You're welcome.

Friday, July 9, 2010

I'll be here all night, and even potty train your child if you so desire.

I potty train.
I am the master.
I am so good, that I decided four seconds after Allie's teacher mentioned that she might be interested in sitting on one, to fight Josh to the death, for the RIGHT to own a tiny plastic poop bucket.

And, you would have thought that I was demanding that we purchase her a car, or a wedding gown. Frivolous "useless things" that she wont need until she is older. 
 I think not Sir, I think not.

It is every girl's dream to mimic her mom on the potty.

You might think it's beneath me to drop trou and tinkle on the potty in front of my innocent daughter- but my true readers, will know differently.
 Do as I say, and as I do, especially where I poo

I just made that up on the spot. Gosh I am talented. 

Anyways, there we were, just a couple of cool kids with our pants around our ankles, belting out "Tinkle, tinkle, little GIRL" Well, I was belting, she was more cackling fits of laughter.

And no, she didn't potty.
 And yes, I am pretty sure Josh googled: How to divorce batshit insane wife.

Potty is not catching poo as of yet, but it is providing and excellent reading nook.

Thursday, July 8, 2010

And why I am never catching a ride again

Josh's car is broken. Well, the passage side door is broken, and if one wants to actually get in the car, they either have to crawl across the other side, thus getting molested by the thingy in the middle that puts the car in drive, OR, crawl through the window.
Well, during normal circumstances, I would make Josh get out of the car, so that I could shimmy myself backward out of the open door, like some crazy midget in a clown car. However, yesterday morning was not one of those NORMAL days.

Case in point: Josh was wearing his sponge bob cotton pajama bottoms, ahem without anything underneath, a white ribbed tank top, that has another name that I don't care for, and no shoes.
And before you start judging our white trash ways, hear me out.
I set out to work by myself yesterday, only to find that the one way I know how to get to work....was...well, not usable, due to the massive three car accident.

So I sat there like an idiot, willing the cars to move, so that I might skirt past them all nonchalantly. Like, "Hope no one is dead! But I have PLACES TO BE PEOPLE!"
They didn't move, but the clock did.
So I banged out a 15 point turn, and seeing as tho I had NO IDEA how to get to work, I did 90 back home and barged into Josh's peaceful slumber and demanded he get up, "RIGHTNOWANDTAKEMETO WORKIAMGOINGTOBELATE"!!!!!!!!!
So, of course he knew exactly where he was going, and we arrive at my job, only to realize that I either had to A. risk someone seeing Josh's wee swinging in the breeze, or B. Have someone witness me crawling out the window. 
 I chose B. and it was awkward.

Especially since I kept TALKING ABOUT IT ALL DAY, as if it might minimize the humility. (You know like, when you trip and fall, you feel the need to tell EVERYONE and their second cousin, as if just by telling them you are pretending like it doesn't matter? Yeah. Like that.)
No one saw me. And no one cared.

But I cared.

People, listen to me. I hoisted myself up and THROUGH a tiny window, and jumped down, trying not to RIP my pants. I then, DRAGGED my bag THROUGH THE WINDOW and skipped along my merry way, as if, that morning I brushed my tooth and bathed in a barrel with my pet PIG. 
With my jobless, bearded, almost 30 year old husband, wearing a *ribbed tank top,* cartoon flimsy shorts, and BARE FEET, in the seat next to me, watching me maneuver my dismount LIKE IT WAS THE MOST NORMAL THING HE HAS EVER SEEN!

And we said the South wouldn't change us.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

You would think I would change, but you would underestimate my laziness

I was all ready to compose a stellar post, one that revolved around poop filled diapers, and how close I am to duck taping Allie's diaper around her tiny waist, since she thinks it is hiiiilarous to continuously un velcro her little booty from said diaper. I mean, it was funny until she scurried to a corner in the kitchen, squatted, and peed.
Anyways, I was going to write about this, but I am distracted, because I swear the shirt I am wearing today, MUST have been washed with 20 bottles of Josh's Old Spice, and I don't mean cologne, I obviously mean his deodorant. Unless he is wearing my shirts while I am work, I can't fathom WHY I am getting nauseous from the fumes of spices....its like COVERING ME.  I have seriously been sitting here since 5:30AM, sipping coffee, sniffing sleeve of shirt, sipping coffee, sniffing front of shirt....what the hell?
Do you think, because I told him I liked how he smelled, he decided to smear his greasy stick of deodorant all over my shirt? Or, wait, hold the phone. Does he think I smell? Is this disgusting mask of chemicals a reflection of my OWN stink?

I should go wake him up and ask.

Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Peaches for you.....Peaches for me

Right in our backyard...

 For Jen. She drags this bad boy all around the house...cause shes lazy and must have a seat at all times. And yeah, those are my bathing suit tops around her head...what?
 Momma Love

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Good Mom

I am a fake "working mother."
And this realization makes me cringe.

I am, without a doubt, totally 100% enabling my daughter's freaky meltdowns. Because, inside, every single day, I have a freaky meltdown. 
Maybe its because I never truly "went back to work" in my mind. Don't get me wrong, I love my job, but a part of me wonders, would I love it as much, if she was in a daycare down the street?  
Not a chance.
I think about her too much at school, I worry about every single thing, -Is she giving her teacher a hard time today?  What will they think of ME if she throws a tantrum....?   Did she eat enough, sleep enough, is she learning, is she playing nicely with the other children. And if me as a teacher was dealing with me as a mom, I would totally want to punch me in the face.
"SHUT UP!" I would want to say, "Shes FINE!" "Go to work, make money, trust me, as soon as your booty is out that door, she dives head first into a pile of blocks, and doesn't mention you again!"

She doesn't need you, as much as you need her.

I am not entirely sure of why I feel like I need to wrap myself around her constantly-because, rationally, I know how detrimental it is.

I grew up knowing not to wave energetically to my parents whenever they showed up to watch a sporting event, or a play I was in. In fact, I guess at one point I was so engrossed with what they were doing, and if they were watching- they stopped showing up at all. Which is why, when they started coming back, and standing in the back row, or keeping out of view, I never waved. I pretended like I didn't see them.

At the time, I remember being hurt by that, it pained me that they went to great lengths to separate themselves from me, and what I was doing, look at me, look at me, look at me.  I took it personally, as a reflection of their lack of love for me.

Today, I can see they did it because they loved me.

It would make me really sad if Allessandra made her entire world around me. I mean that. Truly, I do. I desperately want her to feel secure, and independent and never, ever feel one ounce of the rejection and pain I felt growing up.
And I don't mean that to sound harsh, but coming from an abusive childhood into an adoptive family, with literally no real memories of ever feeling secure, rejection was high on my list of feelings that I would go to great lengths to avoid.
I, to this day remember following my mom, (who was my "new" mom at the time) around constantly. I would not let her out of my sight. I remember trying to please her by calling her "pretty" and complimenting her, because I think, at that point I still did not truly trust her. And, she did, as I expect I would do now, she told me to "go play" "go find something to do" "Stop hanging on me"
And, naturally what I heard was, you don't love me, you don't love me. 

But, I think to some degree, she did it cause she needed to pee in peace, and she didn't want me to be the weird kid licking windows, who still needed her mommy's approval to wipe her ass at 30. I get it. I was totally a messed up, four year old, who obsessively washed her hands, and who turned six times counter clockwise every night before bed. But, to be fair, I had just come from pretty hellish conditions and had to learn that, for realsies, this time, this time, everything was going to be OK. And, it was my parent's job to undo a lot of the damage, which meant, in most cases, to teach me that I would be A OK on my own. Like, even in the dark.

 Now, at almost 27 years old, seeing my own daughter and having my own feelings about the type of person I want her to be, I would be mortified if she hung all over me, I would be sad if she couldn't be content to play by herself if I walked into an other room. I don't want to give her irrational fears of being without me.

I want so much more for her, and I finally, truly realize, it totally starts with me.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Hasn't anyone ELSE ever seen "Ghost whisperer " for realsie people, that show is science

I believe in ghosts. Like, hard core believe in ghosts. I know all of you already are well aware of my obsession with Halloween, so it shouldn't be a surprise that I am all about the creepy crawly things that go BUMP in the night.

Except, for my daughter screaming, as if someone is dipping her toes into a vat of 1am. In the dead silence of the night...out of nowhere.

Like...silence silence..sweet honeysuckle dreams of dreaming dreaming ahhh sweet sleep then BAM.....SCREAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!.....and I am all, "Holy Nicole Simpson, did someone JUST DIE OUTSIDE MY BEDROOM DOOR?!"
And there is no ignoring those types of blood chilling screams, I was out of bed so fast, I totally forget to put on my glasses, and open the door before hurling myself through it.
And because I was expecting to see a monster leaning over the railing of her crib shoving bamboo shoots into her fingernails, you can imagine my disappointment, when descending into my rescue of my clearly terrified daughter,  that instead of leaping into my arms, she instead....giggled? Like, flat out, laughed in my face. 
At 1am.
Its gonna be like that, is it.
And she was all, "yup."

She cried screamed for 3 1/2 hours.
And proceeded to wake up the entire house.
At one point, my loving, we are neverevereverevereverever going to bring our child into bed with us, cause omg what about the ROMANCE husband carried the shit eating grinning toddler into OUR bed, where she promptly jumped onto my chest, and kicked me in the face.

My resoulution was to purchase a "white noise" machine, but like, the ones that make noises of people urinating in the ocean, not the scary kind.
NOT the kind that Josh dragged out in to the living room....which was a piece of shit clock radio, that doesn't even work, turned to a station that should come in, but instead doesn't, cause clearly it is used to communicate with the dead.
So, I obviously shot it down. Na huh, no effing way.


Josh laughed.

My father in law looked at me- like he had never seen me before. Like I all of a sudden sprouted forty seven different heads.

He probably is afraid of ghosts.