Archives for June 2012

Things my toddler does.

I have been making mental notes for days now on all the interesting (at least I they’re interesting) things that Bella has been doing so I thought I would share.

First of all, when Bella is around Jesus she pretty much speaks Spanish and when she’s around me, she speaks mostly English. There are some words she only knows in one language but for the most part she’s truckin’ along learning both simultaneously. Sometimes she tries to cover all her bases by just saying both words to us like: “Juice! Jugo!” Or “Moon! Luna!” The other morning I was in the bathroom getting ready for work and Bella was eating her breakfast in the kitchen with Jesus when I heard her say, “Nasty! Nasty!” I was like “……?” and then I heard Jesus say, “Terminaste? (Done?)” and she said “Si! Nasty!” She is trying to say she is done is Spanish but can only get out the last part of the word.

Tonight she was eating dinner and handed me her empty plate and said, “Done! Nasty!” So, I guess thats how it’s going to be now.

This afternoon Bella brought me two cups and said she wanted goldfish crackers in one and orange juice in the other. One cup was orange and the other was pink. I put goldfish crackers in the orange cup and was about to pour orange juice in the pink cup when Bella was like “No Momma! Orange! Orange Juice! Orange! Orange Juice!” I was like, “Yes. I’m giving you orange juice,” and poured some in the pink cup. She immediately snatched it up and went and dumped both the goldfish crackers and the juice in the sink. She came back and put both cups on the table and pointed at the orange cup and said “Orange cup, orange juice!” So I poured the juice in the orange cup. Then she pointed at the pink cup and said, “Fish.” Someone is kind of picky. Wonder where she gets that from.

The other day we were going to the mall and I told her we needed to get her umbrella stroller. She found in the garage and tried to pick it up herself but couldn’t because one of the wheels was lodged under something. She said “Stuck Momma, stuck!” So I came to get it. She said “Pull momma, pull! Hard!” When I got it out she walked to the car and pointed at the trunk and pointed and said, “In there!” I put the stroller in the trunk and she said “Good job, momma!” Thanks kiddo, could never have done it without your direction.

Bella also gives directions when we are in the car. She is starting to pick up on where things are when we are driving around town. When we drive down a road that forks to go to her grandmother’s house, she points to it and says “That way! THAT way!” When we are on our way home, she points and yells at all the appropriate roads (well, just the last 3 turns).

The other night we went downtown for sushi and as we were leaving the restaurant, she pointed and said, “That way daddy! That way!” Jesus didn’t listen to her and ended up turning the wrong way down a one way street. Our 2 year old has a better sense of direction than either of her parents.

 

 

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Sucky Thing bites the dust.

We have the fish tank of death. A few years ago when I was pregnant with Bella, Jesus decided to get a fish tank. We got a couple of tetras, some kind of little striped fish and an algae eater. The tetras were named Rosita and Aldo and the other two were “Stripey Thing” and “Sucky Thing”. About half way through my pregnancy we moved out of our apartment across town to a house. All the fish survived. A few months later, Rosita and Aldo kicked the bucket and ever since then we haven’t been able to keep anything alive in there for very long, a couple of months, tops. Except Sucky Thing and Stripey Thing. They’ve been hanging on for over 3 years now. Until today.

 

I like that Jesus just said “Yeah.” Clearly some of us are more sympathetic than others. Oh well. RIP Sucky Thing.
I kind of feel like I should have some kind of slide show with a little Sarah McLachlan “I Will Remember You” background music.
But I don’t have any pictures of Sucky Thing.
Because he was a fish and I’m not a psycho.

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I can’t potty train my kid because I’m too busy with the cats.

Last night I was sitting happily in my bed reading the new Sookie book when I heard this CLUNK CLUNK SPLASH. I looked over into the master bath to see our adult cat, Kitty, standing next to the toilet. Then I noticed the kitten’s head poke out from INSIDE the toilet. The only thing I can figure out is that Kitty was probably drinking out of the toilet because he thoroughly enjoys doing that despite all my efforts to stop it. Waldo (the kitten) saw him doing it and decided to give it a go. It didn’t work out so well.

So I had to go lift Waldo out of the toilet (because he was furiously scrambling, slipping and sliding on the porcelain in an attempt to escape) and give him a bath because well, ew.

P.S. giving a cat a bath is AWESOME.

Tonight Waldo was wandering around the living room and started pawing around Bella’s duck shaped training potty. He stood on the side of it, making me think he was going to try and drink out of it (it has no water) but instead he perched on the side of it and started USING THE BATHROOM IN IT. No, seriously, thats what he did. Jesus had to go snatch him off of it mid potty and carry him to his litter box.

Now I have to sanitize the duck toilet.

Why is my life so glamourous?

 

 

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My new favorite things.

This is not a sponsored post. I swear. If it was I would have to disclose that. I don’t do sponsored posts. I’m not saying I never will, but as of right now, I only write about stuff I want to write about.

Tonight I don’t have a lot going on, besides the kitten meowing at me and Bella watching Fern Gully on Netflix for the 10,000th time and screaming for more cheese. That kid would eat cheese all day every day if I would let her. But I don’t. Because that causes stupid crazy constipation problems for her (TMI?) and it’s almost as un-fun for me as it is for her.

Anyway, I have nothing going on so I want to talk about some of my new favorite things. It’s like Oprah’s favorite things except I’m not a billionaire and I’m not giving away free shit, which makes me way less awesome but whatever. Also you can just spare me your Oprah hater comments because she’s totally my idol and I’m verging on wanting to make a skin suit out of her. Did I just say that outloud?

Okay, okay. I’m done talking about toddler constipation and Oprah skin suits. Here’s my new favorite stuff:

Some of these things came from my new Birchbox subscription. Have you heard of Birchbox? It’s awesome. For $10 a month they send you this adorable box of samples so you can discover new products.

I have discovered I love this scent:

 

Juliette Has a Gun, Not a Perfume

 

I’m not into anything too strong or floral and this is neither. It has a clean and crisp smell and I like that it’s called “Not a Perfume” because when people ask “What are you wearing?” I can say, “Not a Perfume” and it won’t be a lie.

 

The other thing I like is Stainiac from theBalm Cosmetics

 

 

Let me say this: I hate lipstick. I don’t wear it. I think it looks unnatural and most people get their color wrong. I don’t like the way it feels and I always end up smearing it across my face. This is kind of like a lip gloss but less sticky. I know it looks dark in the tube that’s scary, I mean you don’t want to be walking around looking like you just ate a cherry popsicle. It doesn’t look that red on, it just gives your lips a slight stain so they don’t look so freaking pale. You can also use it on your cheeks (says the bottle) but I haven’t tried that yet.

 

My last thing is alcohol.

It’s Woodchuck Summer Cider. It’s not as good as the Spring Cider (which my sister says tastes like a buttercup, “I don’t know what a buttercup would taste like, but I imagine it would taste like this.”)

I don’t know why I waited so long to try Woodchuck, I guess I was kind of like, “Why does it have a rodent on the bottle?!” But it’s like heaven. Heaven in a bottle.

 

And there you have it. You should know I am totally sitting on my couch right now in my pajamas wearing Not a Perfume and Stainiac and drinking Woodchuck Summer Cider. I feel so sophisticated.

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Barbie car adventures.

Tonight I went to my mom’s for dinner.

Mom recently bought Bella a Barbie Powerwheels car at a yard sale and tonight was the big test drive. It didn’t work out so well on Bella’s end. She seemed a little terrified of it and would rather push it around from behind than drive it. That’s okay. We still made the best of the situation, we put my 24 year old sister in it.

Barbie car: not just for toddlers.

 

Besides putting adults in Powerwheels, we picked produce from the garden:

You have to guide her on what to pick or she will pick EVERYTHING

And we searched for the cat, Walter.

Found him.

Grandma’s house is always full of fun.

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She’s totally a zombie.

Tonight we took Bella walking around downtown after dinner. We wandered upon what was the Riverbend music festival here in Chattanooga last week. Many of the tents and stages were still up so we took a look around since we didn’t get the chance to go this year. Actually it’s been able 4 years since I went to Riverbend and would kind of rather light myself on fire. After going every year since I can remember (really, I have probably been going since birth, Riverbend began 2 years before I was born,) I can no longer fathom WHY I used to like going.  Perhaps if I had a “give a damn” for live music the heat and the crowds and the overpriced everything would be worth it, but alas, I do not. I have tried. I have tried so very hard, for years and years I almost exclusively dated musicians. I’ve heard enough live music. ANYWAY though, I’ve not given up on the ol’ Riverbend forever. Perhaps one day we will go again for a night, probably the firework night, and that will be that.

Anyway though, thats all kind of a tangent, the real point of this post is what Bella was doing tonight. As we wandered around, she began to chase me. It was all fun and games until she suddenly bit my behind. So then I kept running, swatting her away from my hind end, and she trailed behind me, chomping her chompers and roaring with laughter. This went on for like 15 minutes. I seriously have no idea where this came from. I know I talk about zombies and my obsession with The Walking Dead but I totally watch that stuff after she goes to bed. I have no explanation outside of “this kid totally has my DNA.” Unless she’s on bath salts. I guess that is also an explanation.

Photographic evidence:

 

 

 

 

 

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Ducks in the graveyard.

Today Bella and I were running errands around town. We were sitting at a red light when she excitedly started to squeal, “Ducks! Ducks! DUCKS!” I looked around but I could not figure out what in the world she was talking about, the only things around us were a bunch of fast food restaurants and a cemetery, and thats when it dawned on me, THE CEMETERY.

You see, in Chattanooga, there are only a few places to find ducks. One of them just happens to be in a cemetery (and not the particular one we were passing by today). We take Bella to the cemetery duck pond pretty frequently, maybe once a week or so, but I guess I never really thought she would associate headstones with waterfowl. I mean, the duck pond isn’t in the middle of the cemetery or anything, it’s kind of right there in front of it and we don’t take her wandering around the graves sites, though if it were up to me I probably would. Something is kind of wrong with me and I have this ….graveyard obsession. Seriously, you can sometimes find me aimlessly wandering around a cemetery and I have ALWAYS been that way. Even when I was a kid, “Where would you like to go today, Rachel?” “LET’S FIND SOME GRAVES.” Annnnnnd that’s a whole different post for another day.

Anyway, my kid now associates ducks with cemeteries. Eh, what are you gonna do?

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I named my cat Waldo and I can’t have nice things.

I don’t have much to say tonight besides that I just now decided to write a post and all freaking night our new kitten has been sleeping and NOW he decides to get up a squeal and trample all over my keyboard and gnaw on my fingers. That’s just perfect. I’m still pretty much convinced that Bella is going to unintentionally end up murdering this cat. She still continues to pick him up and carry him around the house by his neck and I don’t mean, like, picking him up by his neck skin like a momma cat would, I mean her hand clasped firmly around his neck. I have repeatedly tried to correct her on this but she isn’t having any of it. The other day she accidentally slammed shut him in a door. He was okay, he came out of it pouncing and hissing at her. He has resorted to spending most of Bella’s waking hours hiding. This is why I have named him Waldo, because it’s a constant “Where’s Waldo” around here.

Other than that, tonight Bella and I went to Target. I was roaming around looking at things aimlessly because I have a gift card so I was looking for something to buy for myself or for the house. I came across a nice white bed set that I came incredibly close to purchasing because we need a new comforter. I was lifting up the items about to put them in the cart when I had a “Waaaaaaaait a minute,” moment. The reason I was looking for a new comforter is because Bella has: attacked ours with a marker, spilt nail polish on it and managed to rip what was a tiny little whole into a BIG GIGANTIC hole and started ripping the stuffing out of it. So, naturally, white is an appropriate choice right? Erm. No. Ultimately, I decided against making a new purchase all together because I think I will just wait a little longer until she is a little less destructive. (Which might be never.) I will just deal with our pitiful falling apart bedspread in the meantime. I realize that this is pathetic thing to be whining about, I mean there are kids in Africa or somewhere sleeping in huts on the floor right? So what that my 2 year old bedding from Bed, Bath and Beyond has been mutilated by my toddler.

All I’m saying is that nice things are really becoming hard to come by nowadays.

 

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Birthday tragedies.

This is a update to my last post, my birthday is the worst ever.

Today is my birthday. The day that usually means CHAOS AND HORROR AND PANIC.

Today I had several nervous moments like…I found an open wound on my back, particularly on my spine, signifying (to me at least) FLESH EATING BACTERIA. I was pretty much convinced I was going to have several body parts amputated.

It turned out to be a bug bite that I pulled the scab off of. (Shut up, stop judging me.)

Then I couldn’t find our 8 week old kitten, which of course meant, he had crawled in the dryer and I HAD KILLED HIM.

I found him sleeping under our bed after a thorough inspection of the dryer.

All things considered, this birthday has turned out to be the best one in years. After speaking publicly about my tragic birthdays, I was able to think about it and pinpoint the first horrid birthday to the year I turned 18. This year I turned 28. I would like to think that it was a decade long curse and it is now over.

I would like to thank my best friend, for the much needed birthday lunch this past Saturday and the pool day with our kiddos. I would like to thank my spouse, for the week long dinners, movies and overall pampering. I would like to thank my grandmother for the adorable card and the note that read “get out from under your bed and enjoy your day, I heard the zombies aren’t coming your way.” YOU GET ME. I would like to thank my family for the Sunday birthday feast and the AMAZING gifts. I would like to thank my coworkers for the gifts and the hidden birthday cards around the office today, particularly the one hanging on the office fridge. I would like to thank, yet again, my best friend, for the birthday card depicting the vomiting unicorn and the dinosaur pimp cup she decorated for me. That was quite possibly the best gift I have ever received. YOU GET ME.

My birthday ends in an hour and a half and I have not cried. I can’t remember the last time this happened. I smiled all day, and you are all to thank for that. Thank you.

 

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June 12th is the worst day ever.

It’s that time again. Once a year one particular thing happens. It’s something that I have grown to loathe.

I’m talking about my birthday. It’s not here yet, it’s on the 12th, but it’s there: LOOMING. LEERING. TAUNTING.

No, no, I’m not dreading it because of the aging thing, though that sucks. Each year I grow one year closer to 30 which is no bueno, but that’s not why I’ve come to fear it. You see, for years now, so many now that I seem to have lost count, I have cried on my birthday because something terrible always happens on this one freaking day. Maybe in the beginning something drastic just seemed to happen out of pure coincidence: a financial disaster, a fight with my significant other, a breakup. All of those things have happened…. and more. I guess it would be more interesting to actually tell each individual story of what took place to cause the near loss of my sanity, but the thing is, they have all become such horrible memories, I can’t really even bring myself to talk about them.

I can hardly think it’s coincidence anymore. I’ve come to believe that the universe is totally and completely against me.

One year I found myself on the ground of a parking lot at a nearby playground having what was probably a panic attack. Then I was yelled at by a complete stranger at said playground, which was really quite understandable considering I looked like a blubbering psycho.

One year I spent the entire day in bed.

Another year I spent the entire day in bed.

One year I had a breakdown in a bar.

For about 2 years now, I’ve laid low, not making a big deal out of my birthday, trying to not do anything special that draws attention to myself, but it has made no difference. Disaster, chaos and emotional breakdowns have continued to find me.

So as my birthday looms closer, merely days away….I can only wonder…what the hell is going to happen this year? I’m trying not to think about it. Drawing attention to it and worrying about it only draws the negativity in making it more likely that some gigantic disaster will happen yet again.

If you can’t find me on the 12th, I’ll probably be hiding under my bed, whimpering and chewing on my hair.

 

 

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