Tyrant

I found her potty training Super Grover today.

I heard her say "Sit down! Now, stay. Good Girl."

I had no idea I was a tyrant. You people should have told me that I'm a tyrant so I could prepare myself for her teenage years.

What stop sign?

When I get together with my friends we laugh a lot, and I really mean a lot. We often laugh so hard we can't stop no matter where we are or what we're doing. My friend S was in the ER last month and the doctors and nurses were cracking up at the show. My friend V saw an elderly man on a gurney go by and said "Is he dead, he looks dead?" A few minutes later he was pushed back by her and he started humming the goodbye song. What did V do? She started singing it with him and dancing.
This is incident is very typical of us when we go out. The three of us are often like an episode of "I Love Lucy." Anyway, the other day I was driving my friend S somewhere when I got distracted. This guy was jogging on by minding his own. I admire people who jog. My guy is a jogger and X-country runner. Me? I'm not a runner. I love my elliptical and mourn my treadmill heavily, but I'll never be a runner or jogger. So, when I see people go outside when it's 100+ and run around in tiny little shorts and smile when they do it, I always stop and pay a few seconds homage to them. This was a terrible mistake on my part. This man was smokin' hot. He had an ass that could crack walnuts and thighs of steel. He wasn't bulky, but slim like the runner he was. God damn that man looked good. What? I can look if he can run around half naked and show it off.

Anyway, I was so enthralled with oogling I forgot that I was supposed to be operating a car full of people (no worries THEY were oogling the same man and describing his hottness level too, so I wasn't alone bein irresponsible). It seems that I ran a stop sign while contemplating his ass. I have never run a stop sign or gotten a ticket before in my life. Also, I have only ever had one parking ticket and it was through a private agency, so it isn't on my record. Anyway, this was a big deal because I am the VOICE OF REASON of our little group. When someone has to make a decision or tell someone something they need to hear, I'm always forced to do it (because I used my uterus and they didn't, bitches). Anyway, when I lose all reason, they're so shocked. Sheesh, no one is perfect all the time.

Lovely and Lumpy

I went to the OBGYN today for my well woman's exam. The woman was nice and I remember meeting her when I was pregnant and swollen and visiting the office three times a week. After performing the exam, she turned to me and said " we need to talk. you have lumpy breasts." It took a moment for me to think of an appropriate response. I'm ashamed to say that all I could think of was saying "thanks." I mean, is there an appropriate response to that conversation starter?

I'm not overly worried about my lumpy breasts because I check them every month and have never felt anything out of the ordinary. She was very surprised when I told her that I actually check myself out and wished more women spent a few minutes doing it. I told her my friend Jean had breast cancer and had to go through hell to get the proper diagnosis and then to recover from BC and that was motivation enough for me. So, here I sit with my thankful but lumpy breasts happy that all of that business is over for another year.

last straw

This summer:

1. my dishwasher died (my kitchen is the size of a spot-a-pot, so this was a big deal for me)
2. My fridge died and then took weeks to get the new one installed (see #1 as to why this was hard. We didn't have food in the house for weeks and my daughter can now order fast food. just what a good mother likes to see.... )
3. The garbage disposal in the sink needed service (it fell off!)
4. The pipes in the kitchen needed replacing (brown water shot out of the sink)
5. My laptop battery died (fucking dell)
6. My treadmill died
7. My neck/shoulder/arm injury was re-injured
8. My asthma medications damaged my liver (let's see breathe or have a working liver?)

I know other people have it worse than I do, but this is my spot to bitch, so I'm going to bitch for a second. I can't wait for fall.

some promised pictures

Who cares about the $300 play house when you've got a $40 dog carrier?





The joys of a slip 'n slide.
This is part of my back yard. I didn't lie when I said it's big, green, and flat without a tree in sight.







It's hard work going to see daddy at work, good thing we brought a book.












Once more around the block Momma


Mandolin with Aunt SiuSiu taking out the Pinata














Yumm Fresh Crabs. Picking them isn't so much fun, my fingers hurt for a week after, but the soup was great.








My birthday cake, it's a sand cake.








This is my carebear that friends gave me when I was in college. Mandolin has adopted it and even though they're the same size, she tries to take it everywhere.

Tonight

I broke the sacred rule against turning the oven on before October. I made brownies and apple cinnamon muffins.

My elliptical machine has been shipped. I pulled a muscle in my right arm (making it hard to type this) and Mandolin is recovering from a nasty bought of facial hives from an allergic reaction to salad dressing of all things.

My guy goes back to work teaching next week and I don't. Overall, life is pretty good here, how about you?

Keep it Clean

Anyone who knows me knows that I love to cuss like smokers like to smoke. After I found out that baby bean was coming, many promises were made to eliminate my cussing habit. Really, you don't want to be the parent that has the kid who says "fuck" in preschool. I've been very good with kicking the habit (in my opinion) except when under extensive stress, like the fridge problem.

Anyway, today my friend was using my beloved treadmill (one of my most treasures possessions), which is fine as i only need it for an hour and a half a day afterall, when suddenly there was a banging sound and the treadmill died. I had a feeling I knew that the problem was. A few weeks back Mandolin found a box of domino tiles and put them inside the treadmill and under the belt. I got some out, but there were over fifty in the damned box and I'm only one person, plus the treadmill worked fine even though it made a tinkling sound if one ran fast.

Now, most sane people would have said "let's leave it alone, we're idiots and can't fix a treadmill." Apparently my friend and I are not sane people, keep that in mind. So, after 30 or so minutes of messing with stuff that probably shouldn't be messed with (it was my job to distract the baby and hold the flashlight) we ran into a small problem with the treadmill. This resulted in two fingers on my right hand being injured. It hurt so bad, i swear i felt it in my hair. My first instinct was to use all of the glorious nasty words I was taught while working as an engineer. They all flashed through my head in a way I'd imagine my life would have if I was in danger of death. I didn't say one of them. I took a deep breath and then a few more, backed away from the evil, vile, horrible treadmill that mangled my poor fingers and didn't teach my kid any nasty words.

The ring and pinky fingers on my right hand are a lovely shade of purple that Kathryn would appreciate. My friend and later my guy were so amazed at my control and ability to keep it clean, that my guy bought my an elliptical and made an appointment to have the treadmill looked at by someone who isn't an idiot. I never thought I'd see the day where I didn't lament my promise to keep it clean.

Making a statement

One of the best and worst things about young children is their lack of social knowledge. If a bucket fits as a hat, wear it. If while walking through a restaurant you want to stop and say hello to everyone and maybe try and sit with strangers, do it. Yesterday at the bookstore, Mandolin made off with somebody's overpriced iced coffee drink because said person had the audacity to set it down at their table and she was thirsty. Drinking after other people is gross and stealing is wrong, but she doesn't know that yet. In order to teach her that people shouldn't steal or drink after strangers, she's going to learn that wearing a bucket on her head isn't acceptable either. So for now, I get to enjoy her testing the waters by wearing buckets on her head and putting on 5 adult sized scarves in July.

These shoes were made for walking

I've been spending a lot of time on the treadmill this week and now I have blisters on my feet. I spent about 90 minutes on the treadmill today and so tomorrow I'm off to get a better pair of shoes fo walking. I like shoes, but I hate shoe shopping, so this will annoy me. good thing tomorrow is Mandolin's daycare day. She loves shoe shopping and there's no way I'd get out of the stoe without a big fuss. The main problem with her shoes is she has giant flat hobbit feet like her daddy and I have to spend about $60 for each pair of her shoes.

Who the hell wants to live in Delaware?

http://jilliansway.com/

I used to own this domain. Do you think I could get them to pay me for it?

Hello Again

Bert was right, I have no excuse not to operate a blog again. My only real excuse is that I'm lazy, and that's not really a valid excuse.




This is a picture of the ducks who live next door in the cemetery after we get a lot of rain. They even stop by in the winter time. Mandolin likes to point at any bird she sees and tell me it's a duck.

Anyway, i'll post some pictue of the kid when I switch to a different computer.