I'm tweeting on my blog

For the first time, my daughter is not in her crib for nap right now.  But she is in her room alone, and it's quiet.  I'm very scared.

It Even Gets Out Strawberries

Yesterday around 11:30 am I took my daughter downstairs to do some laundry with me.  She never goes down there because it's my husband's office and he is usually on some heated nasty phone call and I don't want her chirps to distract from big business dealings.  So we were there at the washer taking clothes out and putting them into the dryer.  Some we hang, some we rewash, so I was sorting things as she looked on.  She suddenly recognized an item on the shelf, and her eyes widened and she tilted her head quizzically staring.

Child:  It amazing.

Parent:  What's amazing?  What do you see, sweetie?

Child: It amaaaazing.  It Oxyclean.  It amazing.  Oxyclean.

Totally adorable.  She recognized the item from the commercial, and was fascinated that it was in our very home.  Then about thirty minutes later I checked my Yahoo email and saw the tragic news about Billy Mays.  I just couldn't believe the timing of my daughter's observation.  Almost eerie.  It was like a little message for him.  Goodbye, Billy.  You were so good you could even sell to two-year-olds.  May you rest in peace. 

Busy and HOT

I am roasting alive and it's only June.  It's seriously like 97 or something out there.  I'm trying to ignore how miserable I am by wearing workout clothes every day hoping that I'll just look like I've been working out all the time.  It's a neat trick I learned from the preschool moms.  See, the deal is, you can look like complete shit when you are out and about so long as you are wearing workout clothes.  Working out is the only acceptable, and even encouraged, way to go about town in these parts if you aren't going to dress.  

The irony in this, though, is that I HAVE been working out, or I plan to at some point in the day.  That's kind of where I have been the last couple of weeks.  Getting a handle on adding exercise as a part of my daily life.  So those bitches may have a point.  Dress the part, and you will succeed.  I have done several exercise videos this week, and even did some lap swimming at the YMCA today.  Yay me.

Potty training is coming along nicely.  At first it was very exciting, then it lost it's luster, and now we are back on track.  And by we, I mean my daughter.  My son has no interest, and me?  Well, I'm getting pretty good at it, too.  We've also been dealing with heavy teething action.  Those big two-year-old molars that come in are a beast.  Mostly because they come in on a full fledged two-year-old rife with emotion.  I think we are through the worst of it for now, but it has been one hell of a week.

So there's an update from me.  Sorry I have been such a lame-o poster, and just as lame a reader/commenter.  I've been busy trying to look HAWT.  

  

This Song Brought to you by the Letter E

When I went to get her from her nap, I heard this little song chirping from her bedroom.  Thankfully, she obliged me one more sweet little performance to share.  This is the stuff that makes it all worth it.

Did You Think I Fell In?

That's because I did.  We've been at the beach.  Two two year olds, a three year old, and a five-year-old-on-a-good-day.  Potty?  Hell no.  I mean me.  Hell no.  Sucks.  But back to the kids.  They were fantastic, beautiful. wonderful, and loads and loads of fun.  We're exhausted, but it was soooo worth it.  The bad thing is we only have box camera footage, so it will take the monks weeks to scrawl the images on to the rice paper.  I do have some video, but I love  you all too much to show it since it is so painfully boring.  It was a blast of a week.  It really was.  But I'm sooooo glad to be home.   

The Family That Poops Together... Stinks.

Last week, my daughter asked me if she could "tee tee in the potty."  I told her, sure babe.  When you turn seven.  I'm not looking forward to this at all.  But here's the thing.  While this is probably  not the best time to start this, seeing as how next week we go to the beach, she's ready.  We've been talking about the potty for a long time.  So after she asked the question about can I "go tee tee," I later asked her if  she would go #2 in the potty.  And she said, "At the beach!"  She has older cousins who will be with us at the beach, so I think we had better at least have an awareness.  After all, I have been warned.  So here we go.  

Wish me luck.  For the love of all that's holy.  Wish me luck. 

The Sun Never Sets on the FitFlops

Ok, so I bought some FitFlops last week.  They are heralded throughout the U.K. for their extraordinary engineering... of the female figure.  I didn't buy them for their reputation in muscle building, but for their comfort.  I have these stone bruises from wearing another pair of shoes, and since I have to walk on my feet mostly, (hands are now out of the question, but there was a time) the bruises simply won't go away.  So the Fitflop comes with a disclaimer that says something to the effect of "WARNING:  Don't wear these a lot at first to avoid extensive muscle soreness."  A warning I promptly ignored because, really, that's just bullshit.  It is.  It's a marketing ploy and we all know it.  I wore them basically for four days straight,  Didn't feel a thing, just like I thought.

Until this morning.  I slid them on to take the kids to preschool for their last day. (ooh, there's another post.)  And son of a gun, if I didn't notice that my legs were suffering.  Severely suffering the angst I readily identified as incurred by the Fitflop.  I came home immediately and changed shoes, but I'll be damned if my legs aren't still sore.  Like I have been working out sore.  Maybe these things actually work.  And if they do, I'll certainly understand why they have become so popular.  Can a shoe really replace the calf raise and the quad press?    If so, the Brits again will dominate the world as the sun will never set on the FitFlop.  I'll let you know if I'm hired as a panty hose model anytime soon.  I'm calling L'eggs first thing in the morning.  Remember L'eggs?  They came in plastic eggs from the grocery store.  How random.