Light-up wallpaper. Mad cool. Someday, I will build a house. And I will do this, so I don’t have to stress about what family photo or cutsey pictures to put on the wall. And instead of blank walls, I will have light. Until then… will someone please come to my house and add a few of those delightful touches that make the house not look like a college freshman decorated it?
(via piquant:entropicflux)
Weezer : I Am The Greatest man That Ever Lived
Loves me some Weezer - and this tune is quite the unique selection. If you are a music geek, someone analyzed the different styles found in this number - I don’t know if I agree with the Beethoven part but all in all it’s pretty dang intarresting. And awesome. See if you can catch them all:
- Live 0:00
- Rap 0:35
- Slipknot 1:00
- Jeff Buckley 1:26
- Choral 1:51
- Aerosmith 2:17
- Nirvana 2:43
- Andrews Sisters 3:08
- Green Day 3:33
- Spoken word (heavily inspired by Elvis’ “Are You Lonesome Tonight?”) 4:06
- Bach 4:37
- Beethoven 4:54
- Weezer 5:10
Are you dying to know how my Halloween was? You are?? Lucky you!!!
Wednesday day was WonderGirl’s Halloween party at her school (have I mentioned how much I love that place??) and I’d promised to dress up, plus get her and Dude all costumed up. But the night before I’d been up almost all the bleepety-bleeping night long so I was barely functional. I had to figure out a costume for her, and I did it maahhhvelously - I rummaged in her closet and came out with a denim jumper, blue tights, a staw hat, a bandana and a pair of glittery cowgirl boots. Dang I’m awesome. Then I threw on my fall-back black dress and witch hat, put Dude in a pumpkin bag and headed to play at school. Fabulous mommying for the day achieved.
Then that night was the church Halloween party - a potluck where you were supposed to bring soup. Husband made some AMAZING Thai Coconut soup and no one there had ever even heard of it (“Ew! Coconut in a soup?!”). Le sigh. Love the boonies. But then I got it all to myself, heh. On the way home I decided to be a nice mommy and let WG eat some candy. I’m usually all miserly about letting her gobble too much, but I figured she’s 3 now and I remember mom letting me eat all the candy I wanted, seeing as I was the one who had walked the entire neighborhood to get it (except for the Almond Joys. We were required to surrender those to her). So she ate a few Starbursts, a lollipop, and tried to eat a Twizzlers but she kept dropping it. We got home, took baths, brushed our teeth, prayed, snuggled in bed for some stories and then snuggled like we usually do until she got groggy. Except suddenly, without reason, she puked. No warning, no “uuuugghhhh I don’t feel good” just BLAH, on her bed, the wall and MY HAIR. I am now officially a mother.
Friday there was the Preschool Pumpkin parade - all the kids in town line up and walk Main Street while the shop keepers hand out candy. I was the only mom dressed up - again in my witch costume, but dang I want WG to feel like this is a holiday for all of us, not just some thing we make her do. Festive and all that. Also, I think it makes me cooler than the other moms. And since I am lacking in most of the other mom qualities - craftiness, able to cook, able to wear mom jeans - I figure I have to make up for it in Halloween costumes.
The actual Halloween night we had a church meeting down in Madison so we left WG with 2 other girls and they had a pajama party with copious amounts of popcorn and screaming and Nick Jr.
Man, when I write it all out I see how awesome I truly am, the puppet-master of her social calendar. Someday, WG will be able to read and I want her to realize how fabulous her mom was/is. YOU HEAR ME?? FAAAABBBUUULLLOOOOUUUUSSSS!!!
Day one of NaBloPoMo down, 29 to go!
rant
Dude doesn’t nap well during the day because he doesn’t sleep well at night. He doesn’t sleep well at night and it’s my fault. I have 2 functions at night - when he wakes me up, I either
1. feed him while checking my e.mail because it wakes me up enough to take care of him, and then I lay in my bed totally awake and unable to sleep for at least an hour, usually staying awake through the next feeding. Although today at 1am I tried that but I was so tired we fell asleep on the chair for an hour and I woke up seconds before I pushed my laptop onto the floor. Or, I
2. feed him in his room in the dark, but I don’t actually wake up, so I pass out on the couch or floor (it was the hallway once this week too) with Dude laying on my chest, and we sleep uncomfortably for an hour or so, until I wake up and try to put him back to bed but he won’t sleep anymore because why would you sleep on a hard, cold bed when you had a warm squishy mommy? So I, still barely awake stumble around trying to get him sleepy again unsuccessfully. Heck, around 3am today, I actually put his diaper on only halfway and backwards so a few minutes later he woke me up, sopping wet with pee. Woohoo.
It’s my fault he doesn’t know how to sleep. But I can’t think when I’m tired. Some people get mean, but I just get stupid. And now royally pissed off. Not at my sweet Dude, I know it’s not his fault. It’s mine. I won’t say where my wrath is going, but I do know I need a healthy way to release it because I’m about to punch someone in the face. I may or may not have almost ripped WG’s head off for trying to sneak a snack, which she is not allowed since she wouldn’t eat her breakfast.
So now, because I am so &^%&*% mad, I would like to make a list of other things that are incurring my wrath today:
1. The &^%^%$ 25 MPH speed limit in this podunk town.
2. The dresser I walked into at 1am.
3. Oatmeal, and having it spat on me by WG.
4. Not knowing everything in the universe. Specifically, not knowing how and who to set up all my amazing single guy friends up with since they deserve to be happy, except who knows if there is anyone out there good enough for them and if they were with some undeserving chick that would be on this list too.
5. Screaming children.
6. Dry skin. It hasn’t stopped raining in 5 days, but my epidermis is like sandpaper and no amount of guzzling water or slopping on lotion is making a difference.
7. Not seeing the sun for 5 ^%$#^%$ days.
8. Hair. I don’t want to blow dry it, I don’t want to stand there and try and get it to look decent, I just want to go. And the only hairstyle that will accommodate that is bald, but I’m pretty sure my skull is not one of my better features so I gots to cover that up. And I am tired of looking like this:
9. Crap all over the %$# floor that I didn’t put there and can’t get the person who DID put it there to put it away since there’s no place to put most of this crap and organizing things gives me $%# hives.
Okay, let’s cleanse the palete, shall we?
see more Lolcats and funny pictures
Now let’s get out there and not kill anybody today!
NaBloPoMo
See that handy badge? It means NaBloPoMo is almost upon us. Yep, an entire month of entries for you, my lucky audience. 3 years ago I was a PPD wreck, and hiding from the rest of the world. Very UN-moi, as we all know. So when Husband found out about it, he insisted I go for it. Every day he encouraged me to write, and in return I got someone of the sweetest e.mails and support from people all over the world, forcing me out of my dark corner and closer to someplace healthy. So there’s a sweet spot in my heart for the exercize that is the November of blogging. Why don’t you join me?? It’s good for the soul and all that. And for my voyeuristic needs :)
The Meet Up
Hey, can I bring my friend Dave to the meet up tonight?
Sure, what instrument does he play?
The gun.
via ooliquidnightoo
GPOYW Currently my FB profile pic. I’m so obsessed with this fauxlaroid iPhone app it’s almost criminal. Except I’m getting amazing shots of the Dude. Will share soon.
So every night/morning, I’m up for those pesky feedings and diaper changes every other hour or so. And in between those times, I’m laying in bed, cursing my brain for not turning off so I can get some sleep. I don’t think there’s anything positive a brain can think at 3am. I can’t do it, I just lay there, furious, thinking every possible horrible thing about myself. I’m sure it’s doing wonders for my blood pressure.
But last night wasn’t as bad. I was thinking over these amazing pictures from Erika’s 10th wedding anniversary Trash The Dress photo session, and thinking how awesome it would be to try it in another 5 years. But oh, I thought, my dress was far too formal to do that.. grrr, grumble grumble… wait! What about just the skirt, and some t-shirt that says something witty, like “My Dad Went To Dallas And All I Got Was This T-Shirt,” maybe “Vote For Pedro” (a staple of 2005, ahhhh). Or something classy, whatever. How fun would that be?! And how awesome would it be if I could fit in that thing in another 5 years?!
I loved the skirt of my wedding dress. All these gathers and tucks with white roses inside for the temple ceremony, and then red ones added for the reception.
Oh, I felt like a princess in that skirt, it was heavenly! And all my bridesmaids, friends and family had hidden charms in the tucks that they didn’t reveal to me until after the ceremony - they all had these personal meanings from our relationships, and then they all put them on a necklace for me. So. Dang. Cute. I’d love to get to slip that puppy on again, just for the memory of how divine it felt to feel the layers swish around my ankles as I danced.
I lay there smiling for the first time at 4am in days, thinking how fun that would be. But then I remembered my groom isn’t the kind of guy who would be willing to do that with me. That’s a side of my personality - the Ethel Merman part - he usually outsources to my friends, which has worked for him. He also said I can’t pull off pink hair. And that thought made me get cranky again (remember, 4am and all)… until I came up with the perfect solution.
Stunt double.
I’d settle for Rowan Atkinson. *geek swoon* Anyone have his phone number?!?!
And with that thought, I drifted off to sleep only to be woken up again half an hour later. Grrrrr.
From the moment WG was born, she’s blinded everyone with her star power. Every excitable Brasilian woman who demanded to hold her, every old man at the store she insisted on flirting with, every random stranger who crosses her path gives me the same line - “you have a star on your hands!”. She practically sparkles, and did from one.
But this little Dude - I’m not taken by glitz, but kindness. He screams only when he needs something, and the rest of the time is spent wiggling and giggling. I lean over his face for hours a a day, marveling at how sweet and just plain nice he is. And coaxing him to laugh. It’s a delightful hobby.
I adore my star. I didn’t think I could love someone as much as the little girl I call Sunshine. So the heavens sent me something completely different. A Dude of the sweet variety.
