I wore a pair of socks home from the gym that I found on the locker room floor. They looked (and smelled) clean. I think that this is behavior I should expect from my husband, not myself.
*****
When people say, “I’m mostly vegetarian,” I want to laugh…but I don’t want them to think I’m a snooty vegan. But come on, you’re mostly vegetarian?? Like except for when you eat chicken and beef?
*****
I like it when we run out of toilet paper and my mom picks some up while she’s at Walmart with Nora. She always buys the 20 pack of Charmin and not the one-ply bargain bin rolls that we usually get.
*****
One does not, “go off the diet for a special ocassion,” when the diet in question is veganism. It’s not about it being a diet…it’s about not eating animal flesh. I’m not gonna “make an exception” and eat chicken for dinner.
*****
Feeding my daughter a vegetarian diet does not qualify as “improper feeding habits”…no matter what the government of the state of Ohio says. You’d be hard-pressed to find a kid that eats as well as she does.
*****
Why do kids’ vitamins have fish in them? When reading the ingredients list looking for gelatin (note: I could not find one single vitamin that did not contain gelatin), I was shocked (and slightly disgusted) to find that a lot of them contained fish. Specifically tuna. What place does tuna have in a fruity flavored kids’ vitamin? Blech.
*****
Our first major snow. Nora was more interested in the eating of the snow than the playing in the snow. And while the idea of a snowman sounded good she was less interested when she found out that it would require her to actually stand in the snow.
The next day we went sledding with my parents. Dad was the head spectator along with being the sled loader-upper…and the pushing to get us started down the hill guy. Mom went with us a few times. I stuck it out for one extra trip down the hill with Nora. Climbing back up, as everyone knows, was a bitch. For me and Mom. Nora rode on the sled on the way up and on the way down. A good time was had by all. The official number of times we went down the hill was three. Future sledding excursions will include bringing Uncle Kyle and a few of his teenage friends to pull Nora back up the hill. Plus they could be in charge of the oxygen tanks for the rest of us old MoFos. I have no photographic evidence because (like a horrible camera owner), I forgot to charge the battery. Trust me when I say it was fun.
A Guinea Named Oinky
and his friend Ketchup
Nora named them. She loves to watch them eat their hay and feed them wood chew sticks. We are hoping that making her feed them and help take care of them will teach her some responsibility. So far she thinks it’s the coolest thing. I hope she feels the same way five years from now when she’s still having to feed and take care of them everyday. They’re good little pets although they sure can squeal. At everything. Like the folding up of a grocery bag. Or the swish swish of my nylon exercise pants. Or the moving of a bread wrapper. Pretty much anything that sounds like a food bag. Or a bag that may potentially contain food. Even if they just ate.
We made it through all of the Christmas/Christmas Eve festivities. Nora made out like a little bandit (and to think her birthday is now only a week away). She had a great time going to all the ‘grammas’ houses and playing with all of her little cousins. Yesterday morning, in typical toddler fashion, she was more interested in playing in the box that Larry’s new computer chair came in. She loved her guineas (guinea pigs that is…as in two of them). We haven’t named them yet but she keeps calling one of them Oinky so that may end up being one of their names.
On to more important things…like the presents I got! I ended up making out like quite the bandit myself. I got a Nikon D40 from the huz. It takes awesomely awesome pictures and I haven’t yet even figured out much past the point and click starter sheet instructions. The book that came with it is about the size of a college textbook! My parents gave me an assortment of coolness. I got a new sewing machine (that for the love of God does buttonholes), a high heel shoe calendar, some ramekins (and inside joke between me and my mom…everyone else in the room looked completely confused), a pair of jeans (that I had pre-tried on during a previous shopping excursion with my mom), and other greatness. Luckily we got cash from both of our grandparents because our microwave has been not working…so I am appliance shopping tonight…and couldn’t be happier!
By far the best gift I received yesterday (no offense to anyone who bought me anything) was actually the joy I brought to my Grandfather with the gift I gave to him. You see my Grandpa is impossible to buy for. He has what he wants and needs and if he doesn’t, he can just go get it. This year I gave him something that touched him so much it brought tears to his eyes (and consequently everyone else’s in the room). Sharing the moment that we did later that night was the best gift of all. I can’t tell you the last time we said we love each other. That was the most special present I received.
Because that would be better than the morning I had. Picture it now…enter dream sequence…que the wavy lines and bloop bloop bloop sound effects…
It’s 5:45 am. I am sleeping. I am not a morning person. I get up at the. last. possible. moment. I don’t enjoy having coffee whilst reading the newspaper, and I sure as hell don’t get up for an early morning jog. So there I am, comfortably slumbering when I hear the most annoying, high pitched, WHINE coming from the dog…who is in the kitchen…stuffing her whining nose in the crack of the doorway to our bedroom. Apparently she wants in to sleep on the bed. Wonder who started allowing THAT bad habit while I was in California last month? Any guesses?
I begrudgingly got up to let the stinking ass whiner in the bed.
I snuggled back under the covers, noticed that it was now 5:55, and said a small thank you to God for the hour more sleep I’d get before it was time to get up for the day. To what do my wondering ears do I hear? Nora rustling around in her bed…potentially moments away from waking up. Most likely she heard the damn dog whining, too.
Know who didn’t hear the dog? The man that allows the dog to sleep in our bed in the first place. The man who was oblivious to the rustling around of the child. The man who was now snoring in my face. Very loudly.
Fan-Freaking-Tastic.
Now the dog is sprawled out in our bed…pushing me so far to the side that one butt cheek is hanging off. Nora is rustling around on the baby monitor. And my ears are being assaulted by the snores of a thousand snores. Oh yeah, and the cat’s in the kitchen bitching because she wants fed…since we’re all awake for the day and all.
I forcefully grabbed my blanket and pillow to head to the couch. That did nothing to wake the dog or the husband. I stalked out of the room with one last goodbye to the dog…the one that started it all. It went something like this…
Dog. I’m gonna rip off your head and take a shit down your neck.
Did I mention I’m not a morning person? Yeah. I thought so.
At the store today:
Ooooh. That Mildew Cleaner with Bleach is on clearance for $1.99. That stuff is usually four bucks. I should totally buy that for Larry.
Yeah, cause I’m such a thoughtful wife like that. Wait until you see the really cool dish towels I’m gonna get him for his birthday this year!
You know you’re no longer single and therefore have no one to impress, when:
It’s Friday night and you’re snuggled in a blanket (bra-less, of course) on the couch watching a tivo-ed Dr. Phil episode at 8pm…thankful that the baby is asleep…and that your husband doesn’t want to use the TV to watch baseball…knowing full well that you’ll both be asleep by 10pm. And you know what? You don’t care. In fact, topping it off with a slice of that red velvet cake in the fridge makes it the perfect evening ever.
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