My Life in (con)TEXT

Me: I have dinner with the girls @ 5:30.

Mr. Clean: I also have dinner with some girls at that same time. Strippers and beer. : D

Me: Figures. I'll have to take BB.

Mr. Clean: The girls love her.

********************************************

A close friend had her baby boy last week. I said I was going over for a few minutes. Two hours later...

Mr. Clean: Dinner isn't going to make itself.

I am a financial GENIUS. You laugh now but don't judge until you read...

I have decided that after two kids (yeah, I'm going to nut up and have another one in a couple of years) (because I'm crazy like that) I will DEFINITELY be needing a tummy tuck and a boob job. Things are not looking pretty, to put it nicely, in either department. And that's only after one. BB number two is just going to Fuck. Me. Up.

Heidi Klum makes me sick. Three kids and that body? BITCH.

Okay, I can't stay mad at Heidi. She's amazing. (Sigh)

Unfortunately, there is no hope for this body. Or is there? I seriously contemplated this yesterday. And I determined that I really do think I would (maybe) get surgery. Really. (Maybe.) (Okay, probably not. But for the sake of this blog...maybe.)

Then I was all like, "How the hell am I going to pay for it?"

Upon whence (seriously) I had an AMAZING idea.

Since my lovely children (yeah, I'm already talking about the one that doesn't yet exist) will be the ones responsible for my very fucked up postpartum bod, I think they should pay for it.

Yeah, you heard me right.

So I'm going to tax their asses.

The government (local, state, federal) taxes me in order to pay for what we'll call "maintenance." Why shouldn't I be able to do the same to my kids? (That's a rhetorical question. Don't answer.)

But babies and kids don't have money, you say. Oh, not so!

Allowance? TAXED. Birthday money from grandma and grandpa? Toothfairy coinage? TAXED.

After saving it all up for a few years I should have enough for my new "hot mommy" body.

Genius plan, right? You can thank me later when you've saved up for your own hot mommy surgery. In advance: You're Welcome.

RTT: I have no clever title ideas today. Deal with it.

This is another one of those "I'm posting Wednesday because BB got shots yesterday" posts. (More on that at the bottom.)

I really hate it when people have conversations during group classes at the gym. I guess a small part of it's the teacher in me--that whole, "Don't talk while the teacher is talking," thing. But mostly it bugs me because I can't focus. It's a distraction. It's like when people talk at the movies. I'm paying a LOT of money for that class (and the day care) and I'm NOT paying to hear you gossip with your friend...so shut up and let me sweat my ass off in peace.

Facebook keeps reminding Mr. Clean and me that our anniversary is coming up. I guess that means I'll have to acknowledge it. (Not that I'm not, like, SUPER grateful that he is still putting up with my ass after nine years. The man must have super powers of endurance and restraint or something.)

Still celebrating: I found day care! I found day care! I found day care!

Sonofabitch. The fuckers at my coffee stand upped the price of the daily special. (Insert string of curse words here.) Now it's $2.50. I know that's only 50 cents, but it still sucks. It's just not as exciting. I mean, two dollars was a steal. Now it's just "slightly less expensive than usual." And, quite frankly, I'd rather go to Starbucks instead and use my treat receipt to get a drink for TWO DOLLARS. Yeah, it's a smaller drink. But much tastier. And someone has to support the starving artists/college students/drop outs who work there.

Have you seen "Food, Inc."? It will BLOW YOUR MIND. Did you know that our meat actually gets soaked in ammonia?! What the fuck? Would you like a nice glass of floor cleaner to go with that steak? I mean, seriously. Now all I wanna do it buy organic meat. Not that we eat tons of it anyway. (Which is probably a good thing, based on what I saw.) And did you know that the meat companies actually entice people from Mexico to come work for them illegally and then basically "trade" them (turn just a few of them in) to the immigration people so they won't get completely busted up the ass? CRAZY. Do yourself a favor and sit through it. (If you have Netflix I think you can watch it instantly.)

I keep having these great blog ideas right before bed, as I'm drifting to sleep, and then I FORGET them the next day. I always think I'll remember them and then I don't. Guess it's time to start writing them down.

BB had her next round of immunizations today. She did really well with the whole thing. Of course she screamed her head off and cried like mad when she got the shots, but she actually calmed down pretty quickly this time. She was just fine by the time I had her dressed and in buckled in the car seat and was happily squealing and singing in the car before falling asleep. She took a nice big nap and then had a nice be shit/blowout once she woke up. It was so bad I had to bathe her. Not quite as bad as the Poo-pocalypse, but close. It all stayed in her onesie because it's pasty from the rice but it was completely up her back. Getting her out of the damn thing without getting shit everywhere was impossible, hence the bath.

RTT: Now where the hell did I put that binky? Oh, there it is...right next to my sanity.

• Finding child care is a pain the ass. Finding it in my location is an even bigger pain. That's because I live in a small suburb of a larger city and there are far fewer options out here in the boonies than there are in the city. We want something close to home, mainly because Mr. Clean works close by and he's the one that's going to pick BB up. Today I managed to find someone that is probably going to be "the one" but I still have to go check her place out tomorrow. She's at the tail end of the process for getting licensed which is fine by me. She's got 2 kids and one is an infant. She said she doesn't plan on taking enough kids to put her at capacity (6). Her daughter will be at kinder during the day but she has to keep a spot open for her, meaning that she's probably only going to take 3 kids total. It's encouraging. And the rate is $25 a day which is a steal. Please, powers that be, make this work out. 
• Baby Bano is a finicky sleeper. Stick her in the crib and you're luck to get 4 hours before she wakes up, needs to be changed and fed and will go back to sleep for a couple more hours. And that's if you're lucky. Last night she was up every 2-3 hours. However, if you stick her in the car for 15 minutes and take her on a joy ride, she falls asleep instantly and DOESN'T WAKE UP UNTIL 7 AM. (Yes, we leave her in the car seat. There is no way I am going to fuck up the possibility of a full night's sleep for either of us.) 
• Why is it that you can never find a pacifier when you need one?
• She loves her "lovey," which is like a mini-blanket with a stuffed animal attached. It's so cute. She just snuggles right into it. Give her the lovey and a binky and she's good to go. (This is similar to what she has but it's a different animal and color.)
• She SINGS. Seriously. We were at my parents' the other day and she was singing to the music. It was adorable. And when the music stopped, so did she. She sings in the car and almost always when she's tired. She loves it when you sing to her. Ladies and gentlemen, I've got the next Miley Cyrus on my hands.
• We were very fortunate to be gifted with a shitload of clothes from a friend of Grandma Bano's. I have finally finished sorting through them. They are in two GIANT piles on BB's bedroom floor. Pile one is 9-12 months (well, 6-12 in the case of GAP clothes. Seriously, 6-12? Could you be any more arbitrary? It may as well say, "Sometime after birth but before your first birthday.") and pile two is 12+. Those two piles have been sitting there for about 3 days, doing a great job of blocking access to the crib and changing table, and I think Mr. Clean is about ready to lose his shit if I don't put them away or at least shove them into a corner or something.
• SO. MUCH. DROOL. Bibs are now a required part of her outfits in order to prevent her onesies from getting completely SOAKED.

Now go visit Keely for an RTT worth reading.

I Write Like...Your Mom

Have you seen this site? It's called "I Write Like" and after you paste some of your writing into the specified box, it tells you which famous author you "write like."

Which of my beautiful pieces of bloggity-blogging should I use? Gosh, I can't decide! Or should I dig into my old poetry and give that a whirl? Or maybe both? Decisions, decisions.

Okay, here's what I got from using one of my blogs:

I write like
Stephen King

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

 Seems fairly accurate, especially since I used the Poo-pocalypse blog. I mean, Stephen is always writing about apocalyptic shit, right? (Just realized there's a bit of a pun in there. Damn, I'm good.)

Maybe I'll try it with some of my poetry later. Maybe they'll tell me I write like Emily Dickinson or Robert Frost or something. (I wonder if it ever just comes back with, "We cannot possibly compare the crap you just entered to the greatest writers of all time. Try again later when you've stopped sucking.")

better haBITS: It's about time!

So the better haBITS have finally begun. This week I've been eating really well (with a couple of minor exceptions) and have hit the gym twice. Hard.

I attended a class called Body Pump on Monday, which is essentially a weight lifting class set to music. You get a TOTAL body workout, and boy was I feeling it yesterday. And today. And I bet I'll be feeling it tomorrow, too. I can hardly walk and have some weird limp because my left calf muscle feels like someone stabbed it. (Don't worry. It's not torn, just REALLY sore.)

BB has been great at the gym's daycare so, like I posted, I went ahead and got the flat rate for 3 months. It's pretty cheap when you think about it. And it's worth it because I actually GO now.

Yesterday I was sore so I took a walk with BB in the stroller. We decided it was a good idea for mommy to go get her $2 special. But instead of a mocha, I was all sorts of good and got a sugar free, fat free, fun free English toffee iced latte. Sounds lame but it was actually good. And so was the walk. BB fell asleep on the way home and took a gigantic nap which was awesome.

Today because my body was all like "Fuck you, you're not going to the gym. I still feel like someone beat the shit out of me on Monday," I had to compromise and be all like, "Fine. We'll just do cardio today." We agreed that sounded like a good plan so I just walked fast (and huffed and puffed) for about 30 minutes on the treadmill and then did some minimal ab work. Good enough.

The scale has been nice. I'm down 4 lbs since last Thursday. It probably helps that I haven't been shoveling mass quantities of delicious, fatty goodness down my gullet. Combined with beating the shit out of my body this week, it was bound to pay off.

I should probably go be a mom or something. She took a shit while I was writing this so I'm crossing my fingers it's not a blowout.

Edit: Said shit was not actually a shit. It was ALL. GAS. She's becoming more like her father every day.

RTT: Kicking Mother Nature In The Ovaries

Oh geeze. It's been a while. Basically I've been too lazy to blog. I haven't had much to talk about and, rather than just forcing it, I figured I'd gather some ideas that may actually entertain you. (Or at least not bore you to death.)

• Do you ever get "eco guilt?" I guess that's what you'd call it. I'm sure there's some fancy terminology for it, but basically every time I forget my own cup at the coffee stand or neglect to bring my own shopping bag into the store, I feel guilty. Like I did something wrong. Like I'm kicking Mother Nature in the ovaries. Using disposable diapers definitely gives me a guilt trip, but they're just so dang easy to use. I just saw a diaper service that may serve my area but I'm not sure because I'm outside of the main city here. However, it would be worth it because it appears to cost less than the disposable ones (!!!) and you don't have to dump the poopy out of them (!!!). Do any of you use cloth diapers? Is it worth it?
• Putting the rice in BB's bottles has been a saving grace for my ta-ta's. Plus it makes her poopy diapers easier to change because it's all pasty and stays put. (I sure do talk about poop on this blog a lot.) (Poooooooooop!)
• BB can army crawl in a circle now. Shit. She's definitely going to be mobile before I'm ready for it. No longer will I be able to lay her on the floor and wash bottles or make myself some coffee. Luckily I can confine her to the exersaucer, which she loves. 
• Every time I go to Target, I come back with at least a million things for BB. Okay, maybe not a million, but definitely more than necessary. On Thursday I went absolutely ape shit in the dollar section and got a bunch of letter, number, and phonics flash cards for her. (You know, because she can totally use them right now. Gotta start the SAT prep early.) (Mr. Clean has now forbidden me to enter the dollar section.) (Ha! Like that's gonna happen!) Today I found a lullaby CD that was 50% off so of course I HAD to get it. And then I saw some of those rings that you can attach the toys to and attach the rings to her car seat so OF COURSE I had to buy them since we don't have any. That place is gonna bankrupt me.
• I finally made it to the gym!!! (You can stop applauding now.) (Okay, maybe just a little more.) And to make sure I keep it up, I signed BB up for daycare. Now I can go any time for up to two hours with her in tow. It's gonna set me back $120 ($40/mo for a minimum of 3 months, which is all I signed up for) but it's worth it not to be a fat ass any more.

That's enough random for today. Hopefully I'll have something to share next week, too.

Want more random? Check out The Un Mom.

!!!, there it is!

Behold: This week's things that make me go "!!!"...

The return of Starbucks' "Treat Receipts." Like I need another excuse to go there.

These delicious Atkins granola bars. Most healthy protein bars have chocolate that tastes like cardboard. Not these bad boys! They're my new "candy bars" and I treat myself to one a day. Super-yum!

 Bought myself a new planner since the old one only went through the end of June. Hooray for half-assed attempts at organization!

Go check out some more !!! at CK's spot.