Wednesday, September 22, 2010


I need a new toddler. This one is broke. 

He pees on the floor. 
His only answer for why is "no"

He uses his hand for a phone. 

He refuses to take a nap. I still need naps. Can he stay awake and watch me take a nap?

He calls his grandma "nonos"
He calls my sister "gogo"
He calls his other grandma "bobo"
He calls me "mum". Repeatedly. 

He makes his cheerios talk to me. They are very sassy. 

He knows when he is being bad. He still says "wat?". 

He whispers unintelligible secrets in my ear. I think they are ways he intends to be bad in the future. 

He refuses to tell me when he is poopy. Instead he lifts his arms up and very convincingly says "no poopy"!

He listens to his daddy. I think they planned this. 

Some things about me. 

I eat my daughters snacks that are "just for lunches" when she is at school and my son is asleep so that I don't have to share. 

My husband and I talk a weird language to each other of made up words and inside jokes. It's probably sickening to everyone else. 

My son makes his hands talk to each other. The left hand is very bossy. 

My 9 year old daughter is often more mature than I am. Although I'm still taller so HA! 

I married a man who is far smarter than I am and it pisses me off that I was not smart enough to know this would piss me off. I'm very sure he knew it would piss me off and that he giggles about it when I am not present. 

I cut off most of my very long hair so people would think I was older. I plan to grow it back out until I am older. 

I stockpile socks and underpants for my children and I like they will be useful or tradable in the zombie apocalypse. 

I desperately hope for a zombie apocalypse. I married a very smart man who has a fantastic plan for it. 

I will not share our plan with any of you. Do not ask. 

My mother is a crazy old Jewish woman who makes fantastic jewelry. We periodically need a time out from each other for our own safety. 
My sister has four boys. I periodically feel the need to go and visit her. I am always surprised that I immediately want to leave her crazy life. 

I would like another child. My husband wants to wait another year. I insisted he buy me a turkey dinner if I could not have a baby now. I got turkey and stumbled upon a new way to get what I want. 

I once threw a tissue box (empty) at my husbands head during a fight. He laughed at me so I deleted his recorded tv shows and threatened to put his (56") tv on the porch. That'll teach him. 

First post of random

I have started this blog so that when I procrastinate about not doing the laundry—because I am reading other people’s blogs—I will feel good about myself because I am "writing" and therefore not just being lazy. This is my first attempt at writing, other than a few short stories about my children. I have been told many times that I should write a book, although, I suspect that this is because I have trouble being quiet. Possibly, caring friends thought that if I was intently writing I would be less vocal. I have not prepared for starting this blog, so aptly named after my middle name and people thinking I have made up a name rather than give them my real one.
Ok, I changed a diaper (my sons, not my own)and now feel much better prepared for this writing endeavor. I think that I will write about my life and the memories I have about childhood interspersed with everyday happenings I find amusing. My husband is particularly amusing to me (this is mostly why I married him, also he asked very nicely and I don't like to hurt people’s feelings) so I am sure I will speak of him often. My children, 9 and 2, are also small obnoxious creatures(although very kissable and surprisingly cute) that God decided I was mature enough to raise into adulthood (although he should have known I was woefully unprepared for anything other than goldfish). I have however done a fairly bang up job of it and they are turning out rather well, if we are all ignoring the rashes and general state of nakedness my toddler seems to always be in, which we do. Also, if you feel the need to critique me in my infancy of blogdom, please do so kindly as my most mature answer may very well be "so’s your mom".