Tuesday, January 27, 2009


Sunday night Jasper COULD NOT EAT ENOUGH PEAS. She ate well during the day, and for dinner we had steak, tortellinis and peas. She started with about 1/4 or peas in a bowl - after eating a handful of them frozen. I blinked and they were gone. "More peas, please!" Another 1/4 cup - maybe 1/2 cup. Blink. Gone. She inhaled the rest of her food - almost as much as I was eating (which says either she ate a lot or I wasn't eating too much...) and then.... "More peas, please." This time I paid close attention. The child could not shovel them into her mouth fast enough. She tried a bigger spoon and the same thing. I guess her body wanted peas. In all I think she ate a whole cup of peas, maybe more.
Monday morning we're eating breakfast (NOT peas) and she heads to the bathroom. Guess what she pooped out? Yup, peas. Identifiable, whole, unchewed peas. Yum.

Monday, January 26, 2009

Saturday, January 10, 2009

Here are all the muscles that hurt today

Insert Foot In Mouth

I'm taking a bootcamp fitness class this month. You know the kind where you get your sorry ass up out of bed at 4.30 am, stuff yourself into your sports bra, slog into the car, coffee in hand, and weave yourself to the meeting place. Can't be late - have to be there by 5.30 am or it cost you 20 pushups. Then you do crazy ass circuit training for an hour, where you can't swear (costs you 20 pushups), talk about donuts or twinkies (another 20 pushups) or have anything less than a chipper positive attitude (you got it - 20 pushups). Now I can handle them all but the last one - me being positive right now is kinda hard, ESPECIALLY AT 5.30 IN THE FRIGGIN MORNING WITH NO COFFEE AND DRIVING IN AN ICE STORM.
Excuse me while I do my pushups....
So the funny for today isn't really so funny, but it's just so gosh darn embarassing that I think it counts. There are 15 or so women in the class, excuse me, bootcamp. Most of them are Wellesley types, or at least look like Wellesley types: showered, did their hair, have designer, MATCHING outfits (yoga pants and high performance wicking tops with the bra built in), high end bags to hold their weights (oh yes, SEVERAL sets) and a well used Gaia yoga mat. Me? I'm in old running shorts and a ratty t-shirt (next week I'm only wearing my beer party shirts: "Hey, Where'd that beer bitch go?") Seriously, I'm the only dyke there and the only one with their knees showing. While I do have a Gaia yoga mat, it's so new it wants to stay rolled up and Jasper picked it out (with matching carry strap, thank you very much). Anyhoo, there is a woman, attired as above, looked to be about 6 months pregnant, maybe 7. I was impressed. You go girl! She's doing modified exercises, not going all out crazy, glowing instead of swearing like a pig. So I think hey - if SHE can do this, then so can I. Inspiring for 2 days. After day 3, at the end of class, she's leaning up against the table, rubbing her belly. Her designer high performance wicking shirt is clinging to her belly and you can even see her belly button has popped out. Maybe 8 months then? She's carressing her belly, so I say, "Hey! Anyone moving in there?" ... you know, kids sometimes get all endorphined up when Mom exercises... She looks at me and says....
Wait for it....
You know it's coming....
"I'm not pregnant."
Holy balls.

Monday, January 5, 2009


Yesterday Jasper and I went to Old Navy. I have a gift card - acquired by the intelligent trading of points on my credit card for points at Old Navy. We got ourselves an armload of stuff and went to check out. We waited. We talked about being patient and waiting our turn. I had rather racist comments going through my grumpy head about white trash returning $5 Old Navy Holiday shirts AFTER the holidays. When it was finally our turn, Jasper helps me get the stuff on the counter, then holds out the card for the (very nice young) man checking us out. After she gave him the card, she looks at me and says, "Mama, he's chocolate!"

At which point everyone laughed and the holiday grumpies were dispelled.

Friday, January 2, 2009

Eau du Diet Coke

Normally I'm against New Year's Resolutions. Normally I'm against setting oneself up for utter and dismal failure. Normally I don't drink soda in the morning. However, this morning something happened to make me reconsider. Slightly.

It's 16 degrees out - has been cold for a week now and will be cold for the next 4 months. Usually I keep a few bottles of water in the car, most half full. This morning I opened the back door to my car and discovered a back seat full of that dirty crusty snow that is caked under my car. WTF? Who put dirty snow in my car? Since I'm the only one IN my car most of the time it must have been me, but why would I do that? In the past I have been known to leave my windows open (leading to icky wet seats), but it's way too friggin' cold for that. I checked anyway - no open windows. WTF AGAIN?? Then I take a whiff. Smells sweet. I look around and see a frozen bottle of water, and a frozen half full bottle of Diet Pepsi. Hmmm. Wait - there it is. A Diet Coke can, split open right down the side. Oh good grief. I left a can of the stuff in my car overnight and now I have frozen, exploded Diet Coke crusted ALL OVER the back of my car. Stuck to the back of the seat. Stuck to the maps. Crusted on the door, the floor, the cup holder and the Elmo Bag. (For those of you who don't know, the Elmo Bag is a permanent fixture in my car. It holds snacks loved by preschoolers the world over: baggies of Cheerios, Kashi and Cereal Surprise, boxes of raisins, granola bars, carrots, little bottles of water, little juice boxes and OCCASSIONALLY some Lego Snacks) Because it was 16 degrees outside it was an easy cleanup - pick off the crust and ice and toss it outside. My car looks cleaner than it has in weeks. And it has a slight scent of Eau du Diet Coke.

Which leads me to me New Year's Idea. Not a Resolution. Not a Revolution. Not a Constitution or Absolution. Just a Thought. What if I identified and wrote about a little something funny that happens every day. Nothing Earth Shattering, just a little "Oh Good Grief". I'm desperate for an attitude adjustment so perhaps this will help. My apologies in advance if I offend, for surely I will, and if I forget a day, a week, or a month, for I'll surely do that, too. But for now I'll start with "Even if you think it won't explode - it will."
Later gaters.

Friday, October 3, 2008

Books That Would Have Helped

A Tale of Two Lezzies
Alice's Adventures in Cumberland
Are you My Donor?
Cocks in Socks
Ellen Hatches the Egg
Farenheight $4.57
Great Expectations
Green Eggs and Sperm
Journey to the Center of the Ovum
Madame's Ovary
Moby's Dick
The Chronicles of Labia
The Cunt of Monte Cristo
The House of Seven Gonads
The Illeus and it's Oddessey
The Importance of Buying Ernest
Twas the Night Before Insemination
Twenty Thousand Sperms Under the Microscope
War and Squeege
War of the Wombs
Wuthering Dykes