Deuces

What happened to your 7 month updates?  Sorry, mommy was busy chasing around her baby girl, and decorating the Christmas tree and removing wrapping paper and bows from the clutches of her baby girl's small hands. Mommy got side-tracked while taking too many photos and videos of her perfect baby girl learning to climb the stairs and learning to walk with her toys, pushing them along the floor so cleverly. Mommy was busy trying to tame her sweet daughter's frizzy hair that sticks up in all directions.  Mommy took her first extended workation away for several days. She missed her perfect daughter, but hopes that someday her little one will know why her mommy goes to work each day. She goes to work so her daughter will never want for all the things and experiences she deserves to have. Mommy also works because she likes to use big words around other adults and loves being a working girl.  Someday, you might want to be a working mom, too.  I'll teach you all abo...

What were the things you thought? Those white lies and fallacies you unwittingly believed for far too long. Please share- I'm dying for your company. Like, you know... were you one of those kids that erroneously used the word "death" when what you meant to say was "deaf"?  Don't deny it... you were, weren't you? I was not. I swear. I know I wasn't because I distinctly remember feeling both joyful and annoyed when I heard a classmate use the word incorrectly, even as a young girl.  But I wasn't immune to my own brain's inaccuracies or feeling like a complete buffoon on numerous occasions. In fact, Do you know what euthanasia is?  You know, that whole assisted death business initiated by the late Dr. Kevorkian? You know what it is, don't you? You do because you are wise and intelligent and awesome. But I remember I was the only student in my English 1B class at Chaffey College who didn't know what it was. I sat there, fron...

Today I pulled the "Woman". I try to avoid pulling the "Woman" at all costs because it sets us ladies back at least a decade. It's also pretty embarrassing. Today I ran out of my house to go pick up Sayler from daycare. As I ran out to my truck I became drenched in water coming from our lawn. Or was it the neighbor's lawn? Right on the border where our grasses meet the water shot out of the air forcefully, quickly soaking my  black yoga pants and black cotton top that fits too snugly since I've given birth. Whatever. 'Notha Issue, 'Notha Day.... Anyway, I quickly panicked, envisioning my water bill skyrocketing before my very eyes. I picked up my baby and upon returning called the water department and, in my most dramatic tone, explained how the water was going EVERYWHERE. "Well whose house is it coming from?" The operator inquired. "I don't really know," I said. "Well, go look at your meter, a...

I am staring at The Mess. The Mess, I won't lie, is pretty big. I cannot recollect when The Mess started, only that it is lingering around like a crazy, middle-aged man on the dance floor of some club that really doesn't understand that you DON'T want to dance with him. I am staring at The Mess. My daughter is playing in The Mess. The Mess is lots of toys, and some non-toys that have been fashioned into toys, and maybe some cracker bits embedded into the carpet. There is a sippy cup, a remote control, a baby beanie, and a hanger. I see a purse. It's one of mine. A small purse that is so cute and fashionable but becomes completely useless once you go from non-mom-to-mom. That is now, Sayler's purse. Of course she is mainly just interested in the zipper. It's shiny. The fact that it has a designer label means nothing to her.  (quasi-designer, anyway- let's not fool the readers into thinking Cambria could care two sheets ...