Two Espressos and a Shot of Vodka

Mother Nature needs her beauty sleep

2010-05-08T11:31:00.000-07:00

Dear MN (cuz we're tight like that),
I think you may be a bit confused. Today is May 8th. A Saturday. In Spring.

THAT MEANS IT SHOULD NOT BE 48 DEGREES OUTSIDE!

Get your act together, woman!!

Sincerely,
A cranky, innocent bystander

Best. Week. Ever.

2010-04-22T19:36:00.000-07:00

::cue scene. Sunday night. 1:30 am. Finn comes in to tell mommy she's thirsty. Mommy gives her water, since that's what mommies are for. To nourish and quench thirst of little spawns. In hindsight, not the best idea. 2:15 am: Mommy awakens to pukish-type sounds and crying. Youngest not so used to throwing up. She no likey.::

Monday morning: Finnley puking = no school for Finn
Tuesday: Fever spikes in youngest spawn. Luckily, youngest wants to lay in bed all day long.
Wednesday: Finn still down for the count. Most awesome part of the day? Getting a phone call from the school nurse, telling me that Josephine puked in the cafeteria. Ossum. Oddest part is that oldest wants to keep eating. Even though she keeps puking it up. Rationalizing with a six year old? Not working so well. Telling her she can't eat? Also not working so well.
Thursday: Both children home from school. Finn starting to feel better, evident in usual sisterly torment of older (now sick) sibling. Mid-morning crisis of wanting to kill husband for giving youngest orange juice. Youngest then proceeds to spew ACIDIC orange juice vomit all over kitchen floor. And cabinets. And wall. Best part of THIS day? Cleaning off the WALL, when Finn couldn't get her entire butt on the potty in time, later in the afternoon. Even more Ossum than Wednesday's puking in the cafeteria fiasco.
Thursday night: Mommala enjoys a bottle of wine.

Wowzas.

Ears are ringing.....

2010-04-09T14:42:00.000-07:00

The oldest had two friends over after school today. It's math time everybody!!

Jos + Finn + 2 more 1st graders = LOTS OF SCREEETCHING AND LOUD VOICES

Wow. Mama's gonna need a drink tonight.

Also, I'm having visions of what their jr. high sleepovers will be like. I'm scared.

Nice, swift punch to the throat....

2010-04-08T08:05:00.000-07:00

What?!?!

It's a totally healthy thought to have.

Having a hard time finding that perfect card? I'm your woman!

2010-04-06T16:37:00.000-07:00

I'm thinking random thoughts may just be the way to go for me on this blog, since the voices in my head are so freakin' funny. Problem is when they start talking while I'm driving and it gets hard to focus and I wind up riding up on a curb, and then the girls start cheering since they think it's like a roller coaster but the old woman behind me starts honking and at the stoplight I get out to flip her the bird, since I MAY have run up on the curb, but at least I can push the gas pedal hard enough to get my car up to the speed limit and when I get home I tell Bunny that someone must have hit the car in the parking lot, but he doesn't believe it since the scratches are on the hubcap and then I put some of my sweet ass moves on him and he forgets all about it.

With me still?

Today, most of my thoughts were about someecards. Particularly, someecards for Father's Day. And even more specifically, someecards for Father's Day, for a stepdad who isn't really a part of your life*. **

Examples:

Sincere, but not commital in any way:
"Happy Father's Day, Stepdad. Thanks for being a man, married to my mom, who is in no way influential in my life."

I think this one says, hey, I choose to block out this aspect of your relationship, since I'd have to stab my eyes with forks if I thought about it, but I'm cool enough to acknowledge it happens:
"Happy Father's Day, Stepdad. Thanks for having sex with my mom."

I always think cards with just a hint of sarcasm are the most heartfelt:
"Happy Father's Day, Stepdad. Because of your amazing guidance, I've decided to never have children."

*I am NOT talking about my Stepdad. He rocks. I <3 him muy mucho.
** I saw the little sidenotes stars here: http://www.jennepper.com/ She's hilarious and I pretty much want to make out with her and carry her around in my purse.

Our Easter bunny smokes crack, but it tastes like carrots

2010-04-06T07:09:00.000-07:00

So, I took the little ladies to Church on Easter Sunday and since the Easter bunny in our house decided to go out drinking on Saturday night, he was given strict instruction to hide baskets and Easter eggs while we were gone.

I couldn't figure out why hubs was cracking himself up once the girls started hunting for eggs. No worries, I figured it out. I'll get there, relax. I need to think of a good nickname for him. Hubs is silly and the rest of what I call him is just not appropriate for the internets. Maybe I'll start calling him my sweet Easter bunny, or SEB for short.

I digress. SEB is sitting in the kitchen, laughing at the creepy voices in his head, while the girls are searching for their baskets. The littlest spawn comes running in with a handful of plastic eggs and starts opening them up. The final one she opens (the biggest, which she saved for last), has inside it, skittles, a clementine orange and a pickle. Well, SEB pretty much lost it at that point. See, internets? He's funny. This is what I live with.

Our Easter bunny smokes crack.

Lots to do! (007/365)

2010-02-21T18:45:00.000-08:00

Busy weekend and the last day of Theme: Words.

Day: Sunday, 02/21

Theme: Words

Day Six (006/365)

2010-02-20T18:39:00.000-08:00

This is a harder project than I thought it would be! Talk about being aware of your surroundings. I've been walking around the house all week, looking for things that are theme-related to photograph. I'm excited to move on to next week and new subject matter, so in honor of looking towards the future.....

Day: Saturday, 02/20
Theme: Words

half past BEDTIME! (005/365)

2010-02-19T18:34:00.000-08:00

Ahhhh, the quiet after the storm. Kiddies in bed. :)

Day: Friday, 02/19
Theme: Words

Today I feel.... (004/365)

2010-02-18T18:30:00.000-08:00

Mischievious!

Since I can't decide which angle I like better, I have two to post today (I think I like the first).

Day: Thursday, 02/18
Theme: Words

Not so structural wall... (003/365)

2010-02-17T14:39:00.000-08:00

Day Three, one of my favorite photos of all time, even though it was taken from my cell phone a few months ago.

Day: Wednesday, 02/17
Theme: Words

Really, the best part of this sign is the last line. Wait, I take it back. The other best thing about this sign is that it's HANGING ON A BUILDING. A structure. A unit. Something that's sole job is to STAY STANDING UP. Heaven forbid someone lean it. LOVE it.

Day 002/365

2010-02-16T14:06:00.000-08:00

Day: Tuesday 02/16

Theme: Words

In keeping with the Valentine's theme:

Project time, yay! (001/365)

2010-02-15T13:40:00.000-08:00

So, my very talented friend, Taryn (http://365-taryn.blogspot.com/) came up with this great idea to blog one photo each day for an entire year and I decided I'm going to join her! I'm a bit behind since this is my day one, but it's all good.

Also, I know nothing of aperture and blah blah blah, but I just think it will be interesting to see what I document each day. The assignment for the week is WORDS! :)

Today's photos come courtesy of my sweet Valentines yesterday, I thought BOTH of these were "word appropriate".

Day: Monday, 02/15

Theme: Words

"Dear Mom I love you and like you happy vale'ingstines day"

Even though it's only her name on there, it's still pretty much the cutest picture ever. That's me and her at the beach (note the water) and sittin' easy under the sun. :)

An update, of sorts

2009-03-26T08:25:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting down to update, but I'm not really sure what about. We are in full-fledged school mode, waiting for it to warm up.
But no matter how much I beg, plead and stomp my feet, mother nature refuses to give into my NEED for warmer weather and wine out on the deck at night.
Mmmmm, it's so close I can almost taste it. This is one of my favorite things about summer. Sitting out on the deck while the girls play, with Tom grilling some dinner for all of us. Ah, perfection.
But alas, it is not yet meant to be. We'll just have to make do with what we have for now.

This week is Spirit Week at Josephine's school. Tuesday was Beach Day, so Jos got to go to school with her bathing suit on (under her clothes, of course). But since Jos got to wear her bathing suit, of COURSE Finnley had to wear hers, too. She took a nap in it, even. And when Jos got home, I let them go to the "beach" aka bathtub with blue food coloring in it. They LOVED it. Today is 50s and 70s day. They are supposed to dress like their parents or grandparents. Apparently the school didn't get the memo that maybe some of the kids parents were only two in 1980. My own mother was even born in '54. I asked Jos if she wanted to wear a diaper to school, but she refused. Can't figure out why.

We were in the car earlier this week and the subject of marriage came up. Finnley said she was going to marry Daddy, which I thought was SOOO cute. But then Josephine told Finn that she COULDN'T marry Daddy, 'cuz he'll be dead when you get big'. Ummm, morbid much?

Cabana boys and other random ramblings...

2008-07-28T15:24:00.000-07:00

So, I was talking with some friends today about their "dream houses". Everyone was talking about what they would want in a new house if money was no object. Of course, being one of the few moms in the group, I said:
"A mudroom. With cubby holes and hooks."

Wow, a real dreamer, I am.

It actually would make my life a whole lot easier. I'm picturing a little gnome that jumps out and hangs up jackets, puts homework into bookbags and shoes into baskets. And then he jumps back into his little gnome home until he's needed again. Pretty spectacular, isn't it?

And then I did dream a teeny tiny little bit. If I could build a dream home and money was no object, I'd want a decked out bathroom with a walk-in closet and a jacuzzi tub. And one of those showers with the jets that spray from all directions.

Oh, yeah, and a young, hot cabana boy, too.

Kids say the darndest things..

2008-07-17T05:31:00.000-07:00

So, let me preface this by telling you that our seven year old nephew is pretty much a scooter riding genius. He can do all these tricks and make it spin and everything. There's this trick Josephine has been working on, called a 'Bunny Hop', where you jump the scooter off the ground while it's moving. With me so far?

Here's our conversation this morning at the breakfast table:

Tom: "Girls, how did you sleep last night?"
Josephine: "Good." "Hey, Mom. Guess What I dreamed about last night?"
Me: "What did you dream about last night, Jos?"
Josephine: "I dreamt that Finnley did a Bunny Hop."(Tom and I laugh)
Me: "Oh, yeah? Who's scooter did she do a Bunny Hop on?"
Josephine (very matter-of-fact): "No, Mom! She wasn't ON a scooter. She was on her bike."

How silly of me! How could I not have known Finnley was on her trike doing bunny hops on the driveway?!

Ode to Having Children, A Haiku

2008-07-03T13:54:00.000-07:00

To be Mom is good
The Kids keep me young and fun
How? Icecream, of course.

Just Randomness

2008-06-28T13:27:00.000-07:00

I actually have nothing to report, no interesting stories about me being hauled away by cops and such, but I figured I'd check in anyway.
We had a good week, signed up for beach membership. We definetely have a fish on our hands over here. Josephine is in the water non-stop when we are there, it's actually really cute. She reminds me of me, when I was her age. She'll be swimming by the end of next week, I'm almost certain. To watch her, you'd think it's the best thing to ever happen to her. She runs in, dives under the water and holds her breath for all of one second and comes up to make sure I watched her every move. Then she falls back into the water and does it all over again. Finnley is a bit more timid in the water. She loves it, but the mood has to be 'just right'. Sometimes all the kids in the water are fine, but other times, watch out, it's her beach and if you so dare to come in with me, little boy with water wings, all hell will break loose. But if I go in with her, that look of glee is absolutely adorable. 'C'mon Mommy, come wif me!' and she pulls my hand in. But that water is COLD this time of year! I'm much more of an August lake swimmer. Or chlorine. With no sand. Can I just tell you about how much a pain in the ass it is to go to the beach with girls? I'm not sure it's so difficult with boys. But the girls! They have all those little crevices and the sand gets EVERYWHERE! A friend told me today to douse them in baby powder once we are done and apparently the sand will just fall right off. I'm doubtful, but come next week, Johnson & Johnson's will be $3 richer.

Well, that's about it. I'm not sure who I think I am this weekend. Last night I went out till midnight and tonight I have plans with another friend. Do I think I'm still in college or something?

Did I forget to mention...

2008-06-21T18:22:00.000-07:00

that last night I had a chauffered ride to Union Station by two Chicago cops in the back of a PADDYWAGON with sirens and lights?!

wtf.

BBQ's are AWESOME

2008-06-21T06:33:00.000-07:00

Well, wait until you hear this one. And let me tell you, it's only something that would happen to me.

I think the only way for you to get a sense of the intensity of my evening, is best that I cronologically document the course of events leading up to the grand finale of what I like to call "another reason I drink".

The night started off great. Pick up the babysitter at 4:00, give the kids smooches and go to pick up a very important role in the evening - my wine contribution. As I'm getting my wine, I find out a friend of mine and her man are taking the train down too. 'Fabulous', I think. Train buddies to and from the city. We discuss the return trip home and decide to meet up again at the end of the night. Once the formalities are out of the way, we settle in for the ride.

We get to the city and wave adieu's and I run to meet my ride. We head over to the bbq and traffic's a bitch. It probably would have taken much longer to get there, but the friend I was with is from the 'south side' and she's got the driving moves to prove it. It does take us awhile, but I'm sure not nearly as long as it could have. I still think to myself that I'm brilliant, since I only had to pay train fare, instead of gas and parking and even though I'm in crazy-driver car, I'm still intact.

The bbq's a blast. I meet a bunch of new, brilliant women that turn out to be awesome. I manage to down numerous sangrias followed by numerous mojitos and topped the evening off with a delicious penis cupcake. No need to ask, but I assure you, it's exactly as it sounds. Frosting dripping and all.

It's at about this point that I start to watch the clock and plan my return trip home. The girls I'm with - all of whom live in the city - decide that the Western Ave. Metra Station is closer than Union. For those who've never been to the Western Ave Metra station, please allow me to describe. It's a station, a full, huge flight of stairs, a parking lot and then....
pitch black. It's completely desolate of a station. And not really the kind of place a short, meak woman should be hanging out at at 10:35 in the evening by herself. But I figure if I get there right before my train arrives, no biggie. Right? Well, one would think, anyway.

I leave the party about 1/2 hour before the train is supposed to arrive at Western. I flag a cab right away, which is great. I tell the driver where I'm headed and confirm that he can actually get me there in time before he even pulls away from the curb. He kind of grunts a 'yes', which should have been a red flag, and off he speeds.

As the clock hits 10:41 I ask him how close we are. He tells me 'eh, five minutes'. I mention to him that that's great and all, but my train leaves in three. He hightails it even faster than the rediculous crazy that is cab-driver etiquette anyway, and I shut my eyes. As we pull into the station, I throw him a $20 (stupid Chicago ordinated $1 gas surcharge), and jump out of the cab as the train is pulling up. It's at this exact moment that I get a text from my friend that says 'shit, you missed it! don't hang out at Western!'. And since I'm staring at a train right in front of me, I decide that my friend has lost her marbles and I ask the conductor if it's the train I'm supposed to be on. He tells me that, no it's not. That one went by one FUCKING minute ago.

I look down the chitchen-Itza pyramid-type stairs and see my cab driver stopped about a half block away, watching to make sure I get on the train. See, he knows I'm not supposed to be hanging around here either. But then he PULLS AWAY. I run down the stairs and like a crazy mad woman, I start yelling obscenitites at him. As I'm doing this, I hear to my right 'Are you O.K.?' I look over and see two Chicago City cops, who happen to be hanging out. Someone was watching over me last night. I explain the situation with the cab and the one cop asks where I'm headed. I tell him to bumblefuck, USA and he agrees that, yes, indeed, that is very far away. Those cops were actually very cool and offered to drive me to Union Station instead.

I go to climb into the front cab, just as the one cop opens up the sliding door to the BACK of the PADDYWAGON. Oh, did I forget to mention this small detail? They were driving a paddywagon, not a regular cop car. I look inside the sterile, metallic interior and say to the guy 'I'm not riding in there, it's creepy! Let me ride up front with you!' He laughs and tells me I can't so I tell him to ride in the back with me. I don't think he realizes I was being serious. He lowers the "roller-coaster type" seatbelt (in fact, his exact words were, "It's like a roller coaster!" like that's supposed to make it less terrifying). I hear the cold metal door slam shut and lock and it's at this moment, through the little holes in the back of the wagon I see the blue lights start flashing.

May I take a moment to break this down into little bite sized managable pieces?
1. train ride
2. ride to bbq
3. bbq
4. fugitive-type speed race to Western ave.
5. left for dead
6. FUCKING PADDYWAGON RIDE TO UNION WITH FLASHING LIGHTS

I thank the cops (and God that I made it safe and sound) and it's here that I sit, for the next hour until the train comes to get me. Sitting and listening to "track number 11" being announced over and over again. That stupid little announcing bitch, taunting me that I missed the 10:35 train.

The train ride is smooth, quiet, uneventful. I make it home safe and sound. And all is good.

Next time I'm driving in.

Wow, what a week.

2008-06-15T17:44:00.000-07:00

So I can't exactly put my finger on why it was such a busy week, but I'm sitting here right now thinking "is tomorrow actually Monday AGAIN already?".
It may have been the 12 hours of constant sisterly fighting that is a daily occurence now that school is out.
It may have been the fact that despite me knowing that school would be out soon, I still refused to actually PLAN any summer activities that may have been fun for two bored sisters to partake in. I have since remedied this rediculous oversight and they will now be shuffled from Wednesday morning poker at the VFW straight to story hour at the library (yes, they are movers and shakers).
It may have been that on Saturday, we did no less than 200 things that day. We started the day off early at the town's yearly festival parade. But it wasn't just any parade this year! This one came in at a whopping 2 1/2 hours long! We stayed for 4/5 of it and then called it quits (people, people. that means we were there for two hours. math is our friend.) Following the 2 1/2 hour Death March to Hell and Back, came two birthday parties. They started at the same time. Literally on opposite sides of the Earth from each other. Oy. So Jos and I drove Tom and Finn over to our Godson's first birthday party and then her and I headed back over to her little preschool friend's fifth birthday party, for an hour and a half worth of "The Best Birthday Party Ever!" (her words, not mine). We THEN drove back across the United States to spend the rest of the afternoon getting good and liquored up (again, her words, not mine), where there was a wonderful feast of bbq brisket, potato salad, fantastic cupcakes, the works. The girls went to bed at 10 that night, which is a mere three hours after their normal bedtime. I was pretty much setting the family up for failure on Sunday. Because overtired children are good times.
Sunday (oh yeah, HAPPY FATHER'S DAY TO ALL THE DADS OUT THERE) we went to breakfast with my dad, followed by a grand ole' time at the town festival. If you've never seen a single thing funny in all your life, take an almost three and a five year old to a carnival, who've had very little sleep the night before and put them on the "dragon rollercoaster" for the first time. I wish I had captured the looks on their faces, because it truly is a unique combination of horror and glee all in one face. Fantastic.
But I think the real reason this week was so long is because it started off with a bang. Monday was my 30TH BIRTHDAY!! And lucky Tom, I don't look a day over 17. I can't quite figure out why I had such a rough time turning 30. I'm at a point in my life exactly where I thought I'd be at this age. I think the reason why, is that I sit down and look at my life 10 years ago. It seems like yesterday. The fact that these past 10 years went by literally in the blink of an eye makes me fearful of how quickly the next 10 will go. I'm making it a goal to truly enjoy being in every moment. It'll be gone before I even know it.

So 'CHEERS' everyone! Live each day to the fullest and have a great week!

It's official. My head exploded.

2008-05-30T14:22:00.000-07:00

I’m curious to know how men do it. How they are able to sit and read a full article in the paper, while the high pitched sound of a talkative five year old on repeat plays in the background (for demonstrative purposes, please shove thumb tacks up your nails so you know what kind of annoyance I’m referring to). That same man, when asked if he wants a beer, is up on his feet within seconds. This is my husband. We shall call him “Tom”.

The power was out in town today, so we decided to go visit Daddy at work (he works in town, at a restaurant. The power was out there too).

A little snippet of our morning:
‘Daddy, I’m hungry. Dad. Daddy, I’m hungry. Dad. Dad. Dad. Daddy, can I have a snack? Dad. Um, Dad. Dad. Dad. Can I have some Emehmame?’ (eda mame, aka soy beans. Yes, they love them. Pretty cool, right?)

Now, let’s just take a moment and break this conversation down and figure out what the appropriate point WOULD have been to answer the child:
‘Daddy, I’m hungry. !!!HERE!!! IT WOULD HAVE BEEN HERE!! THE REST OF THE CONVERSATION WOULD HAVE BEEN AVERTED. BUT DID HE RESPOND?! NO OF COURSE NOT. HE’S TRYING TO TORMENT ME FOR SOME SORT OF TERRIBLE THING I MUST HAVE DONE EIGHT YEARS AGO WHILE WE WERE STILL DATING. HE’S TRYING TO PROVE A POINT OF SOME SORT, RIGHT?! WHY ELSE WOULD HE MESS WITH ME LIKE THAT?! LET ME SIT AND LISTEN TO THE SAME THING OVER AND OVER WHILE HE SITS THERE ALL LA-DEE-DAH “PRETENDING” HE DOESN’T HEAR HER SAY HIS NAME OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN. JUST ANSWER THE CHILD. CAN’T YOU SEE SHE’S HUNGRY? Dad. Daddy, I’m hungry. Dad. Dad. Dad. Daddy, can I have a snack? Dad. Um, Dad. Dad. Dad. Can I have some Emamame?’ (eda mame, aka soy beans. Yes, they love them. Pretty cool, right?)

I digress. Meanwhile, I sit watching this “conversation” play out and I literally feel my head start to spin. It starts gradually, hardly noticeable at first. Kind of a warming sensation in my hairline. I feel the heat rise up my face. And then it happens. My head explodes. We know who to blame for it. The man who refused to answer his daughter when she TOLD HIM OVER AND OVER AGAIN THAT SHE’S FUCKING HUNGRY AND WANTS A SNACK GODDAMMIT.

Answer the freaking child for fuck’s sake. Just get the kid to stop talking for one single minute. Is that seriously too much to ask? I don’t know where she gets it. That one's a talker.

Addendum to my day in a nut shell

2008-05-29T19:11:00.001-07:00

So I think Finn just ate something that didn't agree with her. She took a nap, ate a snack when she woke up and also had a decent dinner.

As for my wine drinking, the girls went down for bed tonight without a problem. Sweet little ladies. They're so cute while they're sleeping. ;)

My day in a nut shell, and why my blog is named what it's named

2008-05-29T11:25:00.001-07:00

So for those who don't know, I'm an independent consultant for a direct selling company, which shall remain nameless (think: pink cars).

Anywhoo, this morning I had an appt. scheduled with a woman who happens to be a friend of mine. Since she has an adorable one year old daughter that the girls are in love with, we agree to make it a combo appt./play date. Methinks this may not be the way to go anymore.

On the way there, in the car, the girls are eating a snack and Finn decides she doesn't want hers. I think to myself, 'hmm, unusual. that girl would eat a cow whole if I let her', but continue to drive. I'm on the phone with my mom, so I don't think TOO much more about that (mental note to self: get off the f-ing cell phone when one of your children refuse an eating opportunity). A few minutes later, I hear her kind of coughing/hacking in the backseat and I look into my rearview mirror just in time to see her vomit down the entire front of her shirt. Fan-fucking-tastic. So I mumble some garbage to my mother about calling her back in a minute, pull over to the side of a pretty busy road here in town, of course her car seat is on the drivers side so I have to maneuver her out to safety, I clean the poor girl up, change her shirt and pop her back into her carseat. Ah, disaster averted. I'm pretty proud of myself at this point. Look at me, working and child rearing all at once. Poor Finn, no more snacks in the car. Choking hazard.

Or so I thought.

I (finally) get to my friends house, tell her about our little car incident. The girls, who promised to be quiet, are running all over her house like it's Great America. The baby wakes up from her nap. Josephine smells watermelon and finds it on the kitchen table. The girls climb up and proceed to DIVE (literally) into the bowl of watermelon while we are getting the baby out of her crib. My poor friend, who at this point is only a mom of one, doesn't know what to make of the whole situation and is trying to get them plates at the same time as she's wiping up the watermelon mess on the table and getting milk ready for her daughter. I just start laughing. Again, cool working mom, doing both at the same time. Sooooo laid back, I am. I've got you all fooled, don't I?!

We finally manage to get downstairs to try some products on. The girls are playing and snacking on some watermelon. My friend and I are talking, catching up and just enjoying the morning. I look over to check on the girls and am overcome by a look ALL. MOMS. DREAD.

THE POOP FACE!!!

Finnley has her poop face on! Oh NO!!! She's wearing big girl underpants! I ask in a very panicky (read: calm, cool and collected) voice 'Finn, do you have to go poop in the potty?! Come on, let's go potty, quick quick quick!!' And I pick her up to carry her there, but what do I find? Her cute little butt inside her underpants? NO! When I pick her up I put my hand on a big turd. Just great. 'Hahahaha, I'll just go take care of this quick. Thank goodness I have a change of clothes in the car.' hahehehe. I'm sure my friend was just mortified. Again, her little one is still in diapers.

I get Finn all cleaned up (again) and sit down with my friend (again), when her babysitter walks in. Introductions, visiting, blah blah blah. And then my sweet little angel baby, my youngest of my offspring says in her adorable little voice, 'Uh oh mommy. I go poop gen (again)'.

Am I being Punked? Seriously. I must be.

I get Finn into the bathroom (their spotless, newly remodled bathroom, might I add). I look inside and is it poop? Hell no. That would have made my day easy. It's freaking diahhrea. Where's the wine? I need a glass right now. At my friends house. At 11:00 in the morning. While my youngest is sitting in a pants full of shit.

Now, moms out there. Tell me the easy way to clean diahhrea off of underpants and toddler's bottoms. Can't think of one? That's because THERE'S NOT! Underpants don't come off like diapers or pull-ups. The only way to get them off is by pulling them down! Or cutting them off with safety scissors. Sonofabitch. Poop running down her legs. I ask my friend if I might be able to toss her in the shower. It's a walk in. I have to go in there with her. At my appt. With my friend. Who's got her babysitter there because she's leaving soon. I manage to get my poor baby clean. I fantastically have yet another pair of underpants and jeans in the car for her. I am rockstar mom. Hear me roar (and then curl up and rock in the corner when I get home).

And then I promise to buy my friend a big ole' cup of coffee when her daughter gets sick, because now it's so obvious that Finn didn't choke on her snack in the car. She threw it up because she's got some sort of devil bug.

And that's why it's called:

Two espressos and a shot of Vodka.

The story of my life.

The dark side just feels good

2008-05-28T11:29:00.000-07:00

Well, I've gone and done it. I've made the leap over to the dark side. Big things are going to happen with this blog, me thinks. I'm going to tap into that undiscovered writer I have in me. The husband will realize I'm perfect. The girls will come to terms with the fact that no matter how many times they ask, I will not allow them to eat frozen waffles five times a day (again). All will be right with the world. In order for you to fully understand why I feel the need to vent over the internet, I'd like to introduce you to the spawns of my loins, aka'Children of the Corn', as my sister so eloquently puts it. And here they are:

Playing the part of Josephine, will be:

Josephine, age five, going on 15

And playing the part of Finnley, will be:

Finnley, age three

"It's a tough life, but somebody's got to do it"

I will later introduce you to the bane of my existence, a man I like to call "The Husband". That boy is lucky he's so nice to look at.