To Zumba or Not to Zumba

Ummmm…not.

You see, as much as I wish I could and I wish that I had enough control over my physical coordination, I know better.

Our sportsclub has Zumba classes and they keep telling me to sign up. For those of you who live under a rock and haven’t heard of Zumba yet, it seems to be some sort of latin-dance-work-out-ish-thing. I have no clue–that’s just what they tell me. Fortunately, I know better than to trust myself to follow simple directions involving music and steps. Here’s how bad it is; I can’t even work out to  a Denise Austin dvd. That means that I am physically incapable of copying the frenetic movements of a spandex-clad woman who has led the better part of two generations of women in working out in their livingrooms. I get confused just watching her. I wish I wasn’t alone here.

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Lesson for the day

Sometimes life gives you lemons. You’ve probably heard in the past that you should make lemonade with those lemons, or throw them back. How about this one? When life gives you lemons, build a lemonade stand and use the profits of your business to buy a machine gun. Let’s see if life makes the same mistake twice. Anyway, the point is… not really obvious even to me here besides the fact that you can find a bunch of “if life gives you lemons” quotes on the internet.

Here, watch this…you’ll see what I mean.

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I love gullible people.

Today I walked to Safeway with a friend of mine who shall remain nameless due to her highly gullible nature.

We both bought bags of grapes, and she started eating hers as soon as we left the store.

“Don’t eat your grapes, they’re covered in pesticides!”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to wait till we get home–I’ll just rub them off.” She shrugged and began rubbing the grapes between her fingers and her shirt.

“You do know that doesn’t actually get the germs, off, right?”

“Yes it does, if you rub them the heat from the friction kills the germs.”

“Where on earth did you hear that?” I asked.

“This doctor told me and Holly that,” she retorted.

“What kind of a doctor, a quack doctor?”

“No, he’s not a quack doctor, he’s a real doctor, like a doctor doctor.”

Apparently, this doctor told my friend and her friend, that rubbing your hands together real fast kills germs. Aside from the obvious fact that rubbing hands together doesn’t address obvious areas like fingernails and skin creases…heat from friction? Really? He actually told them that this is why you see surgeons rubbing their hands together in movies before they put their gloves on.

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2ish thingamajigs

1. We have some couchsurfers from Baltimore spending the night tonight. Awesome. If I never post on this again, it’s because they killed us in our sleep. Haha.

2. I was out with some girlfriends last night till 2ish, so it’s probably a good thing I didn’t post a blog. Who knows what that might have turned out like. One thing’s for sure; 2am is a lot later than it used to be.

2ish. I think it would be really funny to always use colloquial catch-phrases in the wrong context. Like this:

You see someone run a red light and you exclaim, “Say it, don’t spray it!”

Your friend tells you about their day and you respond by saying, “When in Rome…”

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so.

Quote of the Day:

“If every time I fussed someone stuffed cheese in my mouth, I’d be cranky too!”

Violet loves cheese. she loves it so much that she’ll already be begging for more when she still has her mouth full.

I saw a picture of a rooster today. It reminded me of Dan Quail. Not Dan Quayle, although his amazing hair may or may not have inspired my parents to name our rooster after him.

This isn’t actually a picture of Dan Quail, but it is a picture of Dan Quayle. You see the resemblance? Actually, Quail looked much more like Quayle in real life. You’ll be happy to know, he was an undefeated rooster; he had a giant harem, and he lived to be 95 in chicken years.

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Repeat Offender

Violet pooped in the tub…again. This is officially the third time. It was cute the first time. Actually, it was cute this time too, because she pooped and then saw her poop in the water and got scared of it.

The not cute part? getting her cleaned up so fast and downstairs for the rest of the day so that I forgot to clean the tub. till now. it dried

she pooped

while splashing in the tub

i laughed

and bundled her in a towel

after a dip in the sink

dressed and clean

mom forgot

the poop was still there

suprise!

it dries…

there, a mock haiku.

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Pinata Post

I called it that because this one is a mixed bag of goodies. Here we go.

First off, I forgot to mention yesterday that in the midst of my shameful bowling episode, Violet came to my rescue and peed all over me so that we had to leave. There’s a first for everything I guess. She had had a sippycup  with watered-down juice on the way to the bowling alley and that stuff went through her way faster than I anticipated. I was standing there holding her and the next thing I knew, my stomach was wet and there was a curious dripping on the toe of my rented bowling shoe. No, we didn’t tell them as we returned it. Is that bad?

Secondly, my 4th brother broke his wrist, and the quack Dr. they took him to decided to put him in a cast from the middle of his bicep to his hand. A broken WRIST!On second thought, maybe this Doc knew my family and my brother’s propensity for danger. Hmmm…I take back the “quack” part.  Anyway, as soon as he walked in the door today withhis new cast we were armed to greet him with markers. The first three quotes to grace his arm?

“Given is a sexy beast.”

“GIRL MAGNET!”

“Blessong is cooler.” (Blessong is his younger brother)

sorry Mom and Dad, you have to admit it’s funny.

And now, in today’s relevant news: National Doughnut Day. I hope you ate one. I did. AJ made me do it….AJ and maybe me. I probably shouldn’t have because there are plenty of times that I eat doughnuts when it isn’t  National Doughnut Day, but when you have some of the most amazing doughnuts available to the public five minutes from your house…

Lastly (Is that a word? Will one of you get back to me on that?), this is mostly an explanation for my husband as to why it takes me so long to shower in the women’s locker room at the sports club that we just joined. (Let me tell you, EX-PEN-SIVE!) Here’s a rundown of everything I do in the order that I do it as soon as I enter the room.

  1. Cover my eyes. seriously, the only people that should be modest in a changing room are the only ones that aren’t! I have no beef with naked people…they just gross me out.
  2. Go to my locker and get out my towel and switch out my shoes for flipflips. Did I mention I’m a major germ-a-phobe?
  3. Go to a bathroom stall to undress and wrap myself in said towel. Don’t touch the towel to anything.
  4. Carry all my things back to my locker and put them in my bag. The trick here is to not bend over too far; see above point.
  5. Walk over to the shower stall and shower; being careful not to touch anything.
  6. Next is the precarious process of drying myself without (a) touching anything, or (b) accidentally flashing some old lady who probably can’t see that far anyway.
  7. Rewrap myself in the towel and head back to the locker to extract my clean clothes.
  8. Once back in the bathroom stall, I dress. Only this time with the handicap of slightly damp and tacky skin which makes this whole process much slower. Again with the whole not touching anything.
  9. Almost done. See, you’re getting tired too! I told you it took me a long time to get ready.
  10. Finally, put the wet towel in a plastic bag and into my gym bag,
  11. deodorant,
  12. lotion,
  13. foundation,
  14. curl eyelashes,
  15. mascara,
  16. hair.
  17. Go back to locker and try to fit everything in the gym bag which seems to have mysteriously shrunk, and this is inconvenient because i have more stuff now.
  18. aaaaand….TIME!

See, he thinks I waste all my time on long showers or the sauna. I wish!

Later, Ya’ll

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this is totally worth your time

Today I was chewing gum, blew a bubble, and got gum stuck on my glasses. Who does that?

Curious Thought of the Day: whoever coined the phrase “…stiff upper lip…”? I understand what it means, but not how it means that.

To the person or persons responsible for stealing the stroller from the front of the Bradley’s house: how much of a loser do you have to be to steal a baby stroller? I’m picturing you walking away quickly and pushing a stolen  stroller as you glance over your shoulder–you look retarded.

AJ is a superstar. If you saw my patio, you’d know what I meant.

Today we were at this GIANT (giant) community-wide garage sale, walking down the street from one garage sale to the next, when a woman in a car pulls up alongside us and rolls down the window.

“How old is your daughter?”

“Ten months…”

“I’ve got a bunch of baby clothes in my trunk–you want any?”

“No thank you, digging for baby clothes in a strangers trunk after I’ve been stopped by her car slowly following me is nearly as creepy as buying ice cream from an unmarked ice cream truck or puppies from a middle-aged man. ”

I didn’t actually say that, but that’s what I wanted to say.

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new tooth, another celebrity look-alike, and a recipe link

in case you like surprises, don’t read the title–it gives away EVERYTHING!

So, first things first. Violet got her third tooth in last night while she slept soundly in her bed all the whole night through. I’ll take more of that, please! Last night at bathtime I checked for new teeth and there were none, but this morning over breakfast cereal, the spoon scraped against that new little top tooth. Let the biting commence.

For this next paragraph, I would like to start off by saying that I do not think Will Ferrell is funny. While I can appreciate dumb humor, I have no room in my life for infantile humor. You Elf fans out there, I do not understand you. That being said, so many people think my husband looks like him.  The resemblance is veryslight in my opinion, but I can somewhat see it when I’m thinking about it. That’s what made this afternoon’s trip to Target so funny. AJ and I were in the checkout line and after rummaging in my purse for AJ’s wallet (he doesn’t like to carry it) I looked up at the cashier to find that she was staring at the two of us with a quizzical half-smile. It was that kind of look that says, “Wait, is this for real?”

“You, um…you look like Dane Cook!”

“Huh? Never heard that before.”

We finished our transaction and left her staring after us looking as if she was waiting for the hidden camera crew to jump out and AJ to say something like, “Hey, you’re right! I am Dane cook.”

we laughed at her.

(FYI: Dane Cook is a lame actor and comedian)

Ok, so I realize that you are in need of that recipe link about now. Here it is: The Kick You In The Face Enchiladas. Make them…or at least read the post.

And now, for those of you that like surprises but read the title of this blog before you read the first sentence…

This morning I was telling AJ a story about playing with Violet the day before, but stopped when I realized that my next sentence involved the following phrase, “…and then I went up on my hind legs…”

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Did you ever know you were my hero…

Ok, so first off, this is not a story I should be telling you. Secondly, if you get grossed out easily, please stop reading–that way you can’t complain to me when you realize that you will never swim in lake goodwin again.

All the characters will remain nameless. So apparently this happened like last summer or something. No, I can’t…I shouldn’t. Okay, super short version:

Imagine you are treading water in Lake Goodwin on a perfect summer day. Then imagine you are surrounded by turds…lots of turds. Now imagine your desperation as you try to swim away from the poop which also happens to be your own because you were out jetskiing in the middle of the lake and you got stuck and had to go bad. Imagine your two friends on the jetski are desperately trying to get it away from you because your poop got caught by the current and floated up on the foot boards of the jetski. Eventually they give up and swim away on their own. Imagine your shock and surprise at not realizing that if you pooped in the water, your poop would float up to the top…where your face is. Imagine trying to doggy-paddle with your own poop bumping against your neck. I’m done. I’m also done with ever swimming in lake goodwin.

In other news…completely unrelated, Violet and AJ gave each other the hiccups. I’m not sure how, but they were chasing each other around the room just now and then they each got hiccups.

This was a nice day. Great weather. Great birthday…incidentally, for the lake pooper himself.

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Overheard today at Costco

“Eeny, meeny, miny, mo!”

“I’ve been looking for pens all day.”

“They don’t have those spring rolls that I like.”

“You sound like a little man!”

“…goes well with some avocado.”

“What would I do with two of ’em?”

“It’s just so darn good, I can’t wait for it to thicken up.”

“Daddy, want me to sing a song to you?”

“I tell ya, when we got back, I took a shower every day.”

“Don’t know, don’t care.”

I can’t believe it expires that quick!”

“I find a margarita in the morning really launches my day.”

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this reminds me…

my bedroom is a mess. M-E-S-S. This reminds me of a goat named Pammy.

Goats are smart…forget dolphins or monkeys, goats are the possibly the smartest creatures in the animal kingdom.  When I was little, we lived on an old farm, with an older house. Everything about that house was like a mini-time capsule to the days when my great-grandfather was a farmer.  The walls were insulated with sheep’s wool, the floors were made of brick, and the only doors with wobbly knobs were outside doors.  Having goats, this meant that anything inside the house was not only a huge source of curiosity, but also available to any goat with enough determination and concentration. Usually, they would work on the door knob till it wobbled open and then it was a mad dash to the open bag of dog food inside the door till they were caught. Of course, if the door was open, the whole house was declared “open season” by all other nearby animals…and chickens.

The worst attack ever occured on a Sunday. We were gone to church all morning and afternoon, which meant there had been plenty of time for a determined, concentrated goat. As we pulled up the hill and the house came into view, we knew immediately something was up when the front door was open and a chicken was standing in the open loft window. Running into the house, we found 5 or 6 goats and a dozen or so chickens running out the other door and leaving a ransacked house in their wake. There were still a few chickens we caught in the kitchen, a goat that had wandered up to the loft and was taste-testing a pillow, but at the end of the house we found the instigator…the oldest…the smartest; Pammy. She looked up at us, placidly chewing her cud as if to say, “It’s Sunday! Why else would I be lying stretched out on the biggest bed in the house with an open bible in front of me?”

Pammy was a milk goat, so we didn’t eat her.

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ten random notes of randomness

1. If I were a fruit, I would be an apple. Fuji maybe…Braeburn, Cameo. In a completely unrelated note, the smell of an especially juicy apple just after you’ve taken a bite reminds me of horse breath. Not in a bad way though.

2. Something You Should Never Do: don’t own a chimp, or any other potentially dangerous exotic animal. How is this not a no-brainer for more people?

3. I am always running late, so sometimes I do my makeup in the car (not while driving). I’ve always thought that it would be horrible to get in an accident while I was curling my eyelashes because I would probably pull my eyelids off.

4. Left to their own devices, my feet might be hairier than my husbands. Don’t get grossed out yet–his feet are basically bald…and mine aren’t.

5. I read about a product the other day; it was an alarm clock that had a vibrating attachment you could put under your bed to shake you awake. It was my idea first. Once when I was 9, I was trying to get up early to make my mom a  Mother’s Day breakfast. Dilemma: must use an alarm to get up that early, but musn’t wake anyone. Solution: take the wind-up bell alarm clock and place it against my left ear. Wrap clock to head with a hand towel. I didn’t anticipate waking with a near heart-attack while trying to rip the towel off my head to stop the loud ringing in my ears. Anyway, that vibrating alarm could have saved me some grief.

6. Me+Laser Hair Removal=someday.

7. I can hear people gulp when they swallow. It’s gross.

8. When I’m out running, I make a point to never stop running in sight of the person who may have seen me start running. That way, no one knows how much of a wimp I am.

9. How is it the 21st century, and people are still having babies much the same way they always have?

10. I always told myself I would never let my children eat in the car. Now I jump at the chance to placate Violet by putting cheerios on her lap when she’s in the carseat.

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Most Embarrassing Moment

Don’t worry, this isn’t my most most embarrassing moment. I have too many to pick a favorite.

I was reminded of this story the other day when I was looking through some of my brother’s pictures on facebook. I was 16, and a girl, which means pretty much anything can get filed under the “Most Embarrassing Moment” category. My mom and I had gone to Florida for his wedding, and at the airport we were picked up by my brother and his best man (i think that’s what he was). Anyway, he was totally cute, which meant I automatically had a major crush for the weekend. Plus, he was way older–bonus!

As the weekend progressed, I kept finding myself doing little stupid things in front of him; I giggled too much, got red too often, and once in the middle of telling him a story, I actually coughed and gagged on my own phlegm. Don’t make that face–you have phlegm too when you get a cold.

In the end, phlegm proved to be the lesser of the two evils. It was the last day, and we were all together sharing a brunch. I was just finishing a blueberry smoothie thing when it happened: He finally started noticing me! For the next half an hour, I flirted, I smiled, I laughed. I was getting a great response too, because he genuinely seemed to be smiling a lot, and watching me closely. I decided to withdraw to the ladies room to make sure I was looking gorgeous, but one look in the mirror told me the rest of the story. My teeth, the inside of my mouth, and my lips were stained  blue. Like Smurf Blue.

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I think the tooth fairy skipped our house…

Violet still has no teeth. nada.

New Rule (for everyone): Just Because the Carpool Lane is Not the Other Other Fast Lane, Doesn’t Mean it’s the Other Other Slow Lane.  I’m just saying.

You ever think up new things and wish you could make your ideas a reality? Like flying cars, for instance. Mine? Fart Bells. Thats right, Fart Bells. I have this theory that if everyone knew how much everyone around them in public farted, people might fart less in public. or something like that. Here’s how it would work: A bell over the intercom or on the wall that goes off anytime anyone in the room farts. People could maintain their anonymity, but we’d all know that someone had just farted. seriously, if you’d been at my family’s house tonight–that bell would have been ringing off the hook!

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Sunday is a fun day for playing in the sun day

except that it rained as soon as we got out of church.

anyway. After church was over, AJ and I were planning on going out to lunch and wanted to see if any of my siblings wanted to come too. Funny thing–since my parents weren’t there and they would be paying for themselves, they weren’t interested.

side note: Coloray looks right at home in the drivers seat of a minivan, with a pretty girl next to him and a bunch of smelly kids in the back. hmmm…

Fun Fact: Violet stood on her tippy-toes to reach the cards we were playing with today.

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Snapshot into my day

Time: 1:30pm

Place: My kitchen

Me: in the middle of making pie crust for my blackberry pie and my peach banana pie. still wearing pj’s.

The counter-tops: covered in mess from pie crust, and melting bags of last summer’s fruit.

Violet: sitting at my feet waiting patiently between spoon-fulls of melting blackberry bits as a bribery so I can bake.

 

Side note: this happened right before she discovered that the walls in the kitchen could open to vast chambers containing an amazing new toy apparently called “Tupperware”.

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All the world her stage…

So today Violet discovered that when she makes noises in the bathroom, they are amplified by the acoustics in the room. Yes, that means bath time is now going to be a very loud affair.

I found this the other day, and am posting it so I can find it again. Its my new favorite website

Anyway, here’s the one-million dollar question of the day:

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My Funny Valentines

are both in the bathroom right now.

One is in the tub covered by bits of broccoli, and the other is endeavoring to catch her and clean the broccoli out of her ears.

Interesting point for the whole Nature versus Nurture debate. Babies are born not liking vegetables. Trust me on this one. I’m not saying the battle is over–she will eat vegetables and she will like it.

I like Valentines Day. I’ve never not liked it, although in retrospect that may be due in part to the fact that I really like chocolate. When I was a child, we would always get a little box of conversation hearts to exchange with each other and sometimes my dad would come home with some chocolate for everyone to share.  We didn’t have a lot of candy growing up (read: very little) and that might be partly to blame for the fact that I really don’t remember much else about Valentines Day as a child except for the prospect of candy.

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My child might grow up to be a bully

Yes, its true.

Here’s how it started.  Violet doesn’t have a whole lot of contact with babies in general. A couple of weeks ago though, a friend of mine broke her back so we’ve been spending a day a week with her to help her with her one-year old son. He’s big for his age–and all boy, and Violet is small for her age, and definitely all girl. He’s very nice to her, but its taken her several times to get comfortable around this gentle giant that takes her toys and sits on her. That being said, we had some friends over tonight with a baby girl Violet’s age. Isla is a little bigger than Violet, but Violet is more mobile, and no sooner were the two of them on the ground together then she was crawling all over poor Isla. I looked over and Violet was literally on top of Isla. She looked pretty happy.

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I’m actually not this stupid…

If you’ve been to Costco, you’ll understand this story. So today I was at Costco buying laundry detergent. When I got to the the self’-checkout line and the product wouldn’t scan for the coupon price, I realized that someone had put a jug of household cleaner in with all the detergent jugs. Identical…except for the words on the label of course. When the closest employee realized my mistake, she yelled back at the manager so she could get an override to delete the item–in front of a line of waiting shoppers.

“Yeah, I guess she thought it was detergent.”

“No, it says it’s cleaner right on the front, but she got confused or something.”

“What? No, she wanted detergent and she thought that this was detergent.”

“No, she doesn’t want it, she wants detergent instead.”

“…because she got confused, and now she wants to exchange it for detergent!”

 

Thanks Costco employee. Is there a spot where I can not nominate you for employee of the month? Or employee of the anything……

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Baby Rule

I’m certain of this: just because that spot of gunk stuck to the carpet won’t come up with the vacuum cleaner, doesn’t mean it stands a chance with the determined, tenacious picking of a patient baby. Eww.

Murphy’s Law: Just because a baby is sick and cranky and tired, doesn’t mean she will want to sleep at all. At all.

Things I Wish I’d Known Before: She’s better at this…yes, I’m being outsmarted by a baby.

 

Quote of the day: “Hmm! I have a white chest hair that I can see!” Thank you, AJ.

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Pet Peeve #1086

Why do people think its clever to combine two words to make one really cheesy word. Case in point: “Spajama Party”. Spajama? Seriously? I was just reading at a hotel’s website where they advertised a “Spajama Party.” I’d go on here but I really don’t want to stoop to their level. Spajama…really?

In other news: I have a seven month old baby who has no teeth but is pulling herself into a standing position.

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Random

Will someone please tell me what the big deal is with Bugles? (the chip things you can put on the ends of your fingers). I bought some today, and I am seriously not impressed.

Also, rolling chocolate chip cookies in coconut before baking is amazing.

Last but not least:  When we were at that Fiction Family concert last night, one of the songs was called something like “Please Don’t Call This Love”. At this announcement, someone from the audience shouted out “That’s what she said!” Thank you, Michael Scott.

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Violet has crawling issues

She gets on all fours before proceeding to straighten her legs out till she’s flat-footed on the floor with her butt in the air. She wobbles for a second or two and finishes in a grand face plant. I laugh every time–is that bad? She doesn’t do this every time, but mostly it seems she’s trying to remember how she did it the last time.

The other not highlight of the day was watching the “Stealers” win the Super Bowl…again. What? How much are they paying those ref’s under the table? That’s all I have to say about that.

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earthquake

at 5:25 this morning. not even kidding. It only lasted a second or so, which is boring, but i prefer boring when it comes to natural disasters.

Personal Soapbox Moment: Velveeta is not cheese, and should never be compared price-wise against tillamook medium cheddar…or any medium cheddar…or any cheese for that matter.

baby news: Violet ate cheerios this evening. her response? “Meh..”

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Personal Confession

I finished my first Sudoku puzzle today. Not to be confused with “Soduko” or “Sukodu” or “Dukosu” for those of you who can never remember how to pronounce it.  Yes, I may have had to look at the answer key…a few times. I had always thought it involved adding numbers or subtracting or some combination of all the problem solvers in basic math, and the answers would never match up for me, which was frustrating. Now that I know how “easy” it is, my self-esteem has improved dramatically. Anyway, this is boring. Don’t blame me; I just spent a car trip home with a baby screaming hysterically…still a little shell-shocked.

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Nicoderm for Babies?

So…Violet has a fake laugh. It would be cute and funny, except that her fake laugh is strangely akin to a smoker’s laugh. She has many forms of this laugh; ranging from a hoarse, throaty chuckle to a full…smoker’s laugh. I’m sure you know what I mean. If you smoke, I’m sorry–your body deserves better, and I make no excuses for finding humor in the similarities between your laugh and my daughter’s.

Of course, this should come as little surprise to me because she also growls. That’s right, she growls. Which is a little scary, because her cousins also growl, so apparently this is genetic.

Second soapbox for the day: when people live together because they say they “can’t afford” to get married, I do not understand this.

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Game Time

When AJ and I play cards together, we gloat over each other terribly. We just finished playing “Phase Ten,” a card game like rummy with ten different rounds. It went something like this.

Round One: AJ wins. “Oh yeah! Sucka Foo’! Can’t Touch This!”

Round Two: I let AJ win again. “AAAAAAnd that’s what I’m talking about! Ha!”

Round Three: I win. “Oh Yeah, you wish you could have played as good as I just did!”

I’m sure you get the idea. In the end, AJ won this set (closely), and after a kiss and smile to show each other we never meant all the mean things we had just  finished saying, we packed away the cards.

I just realized that a preliminary glance at the title of this post might make you think I was writing about the upcoming Super Bowl. oi. The only(only) time I actually cared who won that humanistic display of materialism and decaying cultural ideals was when my home team, the Seahawks went a few years back. I promise not to go off on a tangent here about how the game was stolen by terrible (terrible) calls, resulting in a deep depression that smote the larger Seattle area for some time.  Great. Now I am writing about the Super Bowl.

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Now That’s Bravery

Violet is scared of the vacuum cleaner. When she’s on the ground crawling and I’m vacuuming, her limbs shake it if comes too close and she cries the whole time its on. The funny thing, is that in spite of this, she finds it her duty to defend her patch of carpet from the roaring monster that takes everything off the ground she was planning to eat.  Yes, you heard right. My six-month old daughter chases off the vacuum-cleaner while crying and shaking.

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We did our taxes today…

Apparently, babies make a big difference in tax returns. Who’d have thought?

Breaking News: If you feed a baby a blackberry-banana smoothie, their “spit-up” is the same color as the smoothie. Purple Urple! The good news is, she was just as entertained by the smoothie the second time around. I found her sitting on the carpet swishing around a little purple puddle with her fingers.

In other news, C.S Lewis is always better the second time around. We’re currently reading his space trilogy, and I’m finding it much more interesting than I did at 13 or 14.

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Dentists, Lie Detectors and Liars

Top question asked by Dentists:

“How often do you floss?”

What? Seriously? Why even ask that question? Because damned if I do and damned if i don’t tell the truth–they already know the answer! I was sitting in the dentists’ chair this afternoon while he probed my gums to check for gum disease just waiting for the inevitable question.

Him: “You floss much?”

Me: “Yash! Awmosh evey ‘ay” (his fingers were in my mouth).

Not that I can blame Dentists. Its a surefire way to check and see if your patient is a liar. If more people realized this, I’m sure dental appointments on video conference would be mandated by hiring managers.

“Good work history…check. Strong people skills…check. Excellent references…check. Not a liar…check.”

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