Grow up already you little baby.
Friday, June 27, 2008
I'm such a girl when it comes to bugs, worms, toads and anything else creepy, crawly and with more limbs than me - especially spiders.

I had let my flowerbeds go all summer without any TLC and the weeds were starting to choke out the rose bushes that my brown thumb has managed to kill off all but 3 of so far. So, I took on the jungle that was my flower bed and I think I screeched and ran at least 8 times.

First, there are some bags of grass on our back porch waiting for trash day. The flies are loving these bags of rotting, wet grass so I'm constantly waving my arms to keep them away from me. Flies are gross! Second, there are these little gnat like bugs buzzing around one end of the bed and they are creepy because they are so small you never know where they might end up. Ears, eyes, nose, other places I can't reach...the possibilites are endless. Those two combined probably caused 4 of the screeches and much arm flailing and running.

As I'm pulling these weeds I kept thinking "This would be an ideal home for a toad" followed by the thought, "I hope I don't come across a toad". You guessed it...I did. Two of them. Screeches #5 and #6.

Then the coup de grace (yay, for 2 years of French in high school! That just paid off). My gardening shoe slips off my foot and I discover (gack) a squished, (gah) dead (blech) worm. IT.TOUCHED.MY.FOOT. And then it died on my foot. Touching it. With it's dead slimy body. Screeches #7 and #8 followed by much ewwwwing, gagging and frantic rubbing of the foot on the grass and slamming of the shoe on the ground to get the carcass out.

I just pretended not to see that spiderweb later on because I was plain old worn out. This was not a fun day.

I was a young fashionista
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
If you know me now, you would know that clothes are not something that drive me or interest me too terribly much. Mostly because they cost money and I DO NOT like to spend money. If you knew me when I was little you would think I was destined to a fashion critic or something.

Example 1 - I heard this one from my mother because I was entirely too young to remember this. At 6 months of age every time my mom tried to put a particular outfit on me I would scream and scream until she took it off. She checked the outfit thoroughly to make sure nothing was scratching or poking me on the outfit and put it back on. I screamed and screamed until she took it off. She tried the outfit a few more times on different days and every time I would scream while it was on. She finally decided I just didn't like it and stopped trying to put it on me.

Example 2 - Halloween in Kindergarten. I didn't have a costume for the annual Halloween parade at school so my aunt loaned me the costume her son had worn a few years before. It was a pumpkin outfit that you stuffed with newspaper to make it big and round. I refused to wear it because A. it was orange and B. it made me look fat. I was 5 people!!

Example 3 - In first grade I was at the sitter's after school one day and pee'd my pants (I know, 6 is a little old for pants peeing, but whatever. I watched a girl in my 2nd grade class pee her in pants in the middle of gym class, so there!). The sitter made me put on these hideous, 70's, plaid bell bottoms that belonged to her daughter. I refused to go outside after she made me wear those and hid in the basement until my mom came to pick me and my brother up after work.

Example 4 - I got my first real hairstyle at a real beauty salon in the 4th grade. I made my dad do a photoshoot with me in my favorite shirt and shorts because I was pretty!

After writing all that out I realize that I was just a vain, superficial, little shit growing up. I obviously didn't have any self-esteem issues.

Tuesday, June 24, 2008
I love string cheese.

I love all cheese.

Well maybe not those weird/smelly/foreign ones.

I guess I love plain cheeses like mozzerella, provolone and velveeta (What? It's a cheese product).

Whatever, my string cheese is yummy.

Parenting styles
Friday, June 20, 2008
I have noticed a few differences in how my husband and I play with our daughter.

Me: Singing, touching, kissing and laughing.
Husband: Funny noises, movement (flying, bouncing, jumping up and down), funny faces and laughing.

I think she likes "flying" with daddy a bit more than listening to mommy's out of tune singing, but I'm ok with that. I love seeing her laugh with her daddy.

Observations in a car
Monday, June 16, 2008
Driving home from picking up my daughter at daycare, I am behind a young woman wearing pearl earrings and driving a beat up green Chevy Cavalier with a cracked windshield. She doesn't seem to mind the cracked windshield though because she's bobbing her head quite furiously and occassionally raising her thumb and index finger in the air to emphasize what ever music she is singing along with in her car. The light turns green and I start to lose sight of her bobbing head, but catch up when she slows down in traffic. Now she's drumming quite furiously on her steering wheel along with the head bob. She must have had a decent day and is now enjoying her drive home.

My daughter, with her many coos and loud laughs, told me she enjoyed my running description of the head-bobbing lady. I enjoyed my drive home after a decent day at work too.

So sad
Friday, June 13, 2008
This blog looks so sad and lonely. Maybe I should visit more often.