Chew On This

My 5-month old has 2 teeth.

Let the chaos resume.

Hang To Dry

You may be aware by now of my general hatred for my wardrobe. Mainly because nothing fits right and it's all hideous, I'm seriously wondering if I shop while drunk. It was my birthday this past weekend and I just needed something to wear that I didn't feel like a mo-ron in. I picked out a black t-shirt and a gray burn-out sweater type thing (you'll have to see whoismorgan for the correct definition). I loved it, it looked great, in my opinion...which may not matter since I may have been drunk. I paired it with a long chain necklace and ta-da! Ensemble!

I wore it out on Saturday, got good review. Then on Monday while I was at work Joe decided to be helpful and wonderful and get some laundry done. This laundry included this new gray burn-out sweater type thing...do I really need to go on?

I'm putting away my clothes and I notice the piece looks a lot smaller than I remembered (that's what she said..yes, I just did that). I examined it and then put it on. Yup. Definitely much smaller and shorter. I walk out to the living room and ask Joe "Does this look smaller to you?".

His answer...

"Maybe you're a giant."


Johnny Four Fingers

Sitting on the couch this morning feeding Cooper I was drawn into this morning cartoon, Umizoomi. I'll give you a moment to say it out loud, it's super fun.

All of a sudden something hit me and I did what I usually do and just blurt out whatever is in mah hayud. (my head for those of you who aren't my husband or friends)

"Why do they only have 4 fingers? I mean, is it that hard to just draw one more freaking finger? Would it add hours to the animator's day? Would it inevitably throw the earth off it's axis therefore ending this world as we know it? Is there some sort of subliminal message being portrayed to our children by having them watch character's with only four fingers?"

Joe: Blank stare. (typical look given when words are escaping my pie hole)

He then folds his thumbs down and proceeds to wave his creepy four-fingered hands in my face. Do it, it's creepy.

If you do a Google search for "why do cartoon character's have only 4 fingers", the results are a bunch of asshole's saying things like, "I only have four-fingers, how many do you have?", "last time I checked humans only had four fingers...derrr".

Whatever, Assy McAsses.

So, then you have to search "why don't cartoon character's have anatomoically correct hands". Good grief, the simplest thing.

THEN, you get a whole bunch of people with a hell of a lotta time on their HANDS (garsh I'm funny) with these long drawn out explanations of cartoon hands and the original cartoons and so on and on and on.

I'm not that invested in my question to read all of that. So, maybe I really don't care. Like I said, I don't ask the questions, I just open my mouth and my brain falls out.


A Fashion Bonfire...if you will.

The worst part of my day? Getting dressed, well except for the days that I have to dismantle car engines and rebuild them with popsicle sticks, that's also a pretty rough day.

Getting dressed, so simple. And by simple I mean 'can't be achieved without trying on a minimum of 3 pairs of pants and 27 shirts and then throwing them all over my room as if a fashion grenade went off and used my tears as part of the shrapnel', oh yeah it's that simple.

As I've mentioned before I have lost my pre-baby weight but remember before I had said baby I was still 30lbs heavier than I wanted to be and now my hips are still a foot wider, my stomach doesn't know which direction to go, my thighs fight for control and my boobs, well, I won't get into that except that depending on the time of day one of them is double the size of the other and half of it has taken up residence under my armpit and under my chin of which I have 2.

Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating...maybe not. I guess that description is basically how I "feel" I look. Fun! Feelings! Let's all get together and FEEL our FEELINGS and LOVE and blah blah blah puke.

So. I hate getting dressed. It ruins my day. On Easter I wore a Jem and the Holograms T-shirt, today I wore a trashbag.

Jem! Woo ooo, she's truly outrageous, truly truly truly outrageous!
Whoa hoa Jem, wooooo she's truly outrageous!

And, you're welcome.

Join me in the near future. Today perhaps. When I throw all my clothes into a huge barrel and light them on fire. Bring marshmallows, ooh and some of those leftover Easter Peeps we all know that I ate all of mine.

Don't Do This

Please don't talk to me about my breastmilk.

Wow, look, you've survived another day! Congratulations!


Yes, Please Do That

I am in the fast lane of the highway, the speed limit is 65. I, of course, am going 80.

Please ride my ass as though I'm going 20 in a 65.

I love it when you do that. You asshole.

Happy Easter, please accept this gift on behalf of my love.

Every year the Easter Bunny aka Momma leaves baskets for Morgan and me, even though we are in our twenties. Also, we still get gifts from Santa.

This Easter was not my best Easter ever, due in part to my rotten attitude and general hatred for everything in my closet.

While going through my Easter basket I opened one of the gifts. A dome paperweight with the letter A inside of it. I then turn over the gift to find this lovely message on the bottom.
(You will have to click on the picture to read the message, just do it.)

Happy Easter.