Archives for October 2012

Creepy air fresheners, chicken grease and my kid in a box

Tonight is pretty random. Welcome to my life.

First of all, my cat never returned and I’m still mourning.

Secondly, my husband bought this air freshener that goes off like every half hour and it scares the crap out of me every time. It gives off this startling “Pssssst Shhhhhhh!” I hate that thing. It totally creeps me out while I’m watching Law and Order SVU.

Those are just 2 things I felt like you needed to know. Let’s move on to what I did this evening.

I made chicken nuggets for Bella for dinner. I tried a recipe I found on Pinterest that said they would be like Chick Fil A nuggets. They lied. They taste like pickles, but I like pickles so I ate them anyway. I also burnt myself on peanut oil.

And then I tried to doctor it with one of Bella’s ice packs that go in her lunch box:

Look! A monkey!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But it was too freaking cold and I almost got frostbite. So I wrapped it in a towel:

Ah yes. Much better. Frostbite protection.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

But then I had to keep holding the ice pack monkey in a towel on my arm and when you have a 2 and a half year old, that doesn’t work out so well. You need 2 functional arms. So I came up with a solution:

GENIUS.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I ended up not even needing this thing because Bella spent the remainder of the evening in a box.

Apparently this is entertaining.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Why do I even bother buying toys?

 

Well. That was my night. How was yours?

 

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My husband knows the cat is dead and he won’t tell me.

On Memorial Day we adopted an adorable little white kitty kitty. We named him Waldo because Bella was so obsessed with him that she would pick him up and carry him around the house. He took to hiding all the time to avoid her, so our home became a constant “Where’s Waldo?”

Well, Waldo has gone missing. There’s more to the story than that. A neighborhood dog got ahold of him and rung his neck the other day, leaving him with noticeable bite marks. I hate that dog and I hate my neighbors who just let him run free allowing him to attack my cats. We examined him and we were worried, but he was acting fine. He was still trotting around and acting all “Happy Waldo” or whatever, but we were still planning on taking him to the vet the next morning.

That never happened. Early yesterday morning, before I went to work, Waldo wanted to go outside. He went out and curled up on the front porch to sunbathe. I came home from work at about 9 AM because I lost a contact lens and needed to replace it. He was still there when I left to go back to work.

Sometime between then and now, Waldo has gone MIA. Jesus was going to be the one to take him to the vet, but said that when he tried to find him around noon, he was no where to be found. And we haven’t seen him since. Do you want to know what I think? DO YOU? Sure you do.

I think that cat died and Jesus found him and discarded of him and now he won’t tell me about it. He thinks it’s better for me to think Waldo is “missing” instead of me knowing the gruesome truth: that cat died.

Why? Why do I think this? Well, first of all, I know my husband. Second of all, I put some food out on the front porch yesterday when Jesus said Waldo was missing. Jesus brought the food back in. I put it back out last night. Jesus brought it back in this morning.

Either he wants Waldo to starve OR he knows that cat isn’t going to be coming back.

This post isn’t meant to be funny. I’m really so worried about that cat I could just puke. Waldo, if you’re out there, please come home. I know you can’t read and you aren’t on the internet, but seriously, please come home.

And husband, if the cat is dead, go ahead and just tell me. I would rather know and not be worrying about him and wandering around the neighborhood with a flashlight screaming for him. I’m a 28 year old woman. I can handle this. I can’t promise I will handle it WELL, but I will handle it.

 

WHERE IS MY FREAKING CAT?

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Zombie wreaths and gators in the shower

The other day it was raining but Bella and I had some important errands to run. By important errands I mean that mommy had to go to Hobby Lobby to try and find items to construct a zombie wreath. It’s kind of a Halloween thing but it’s really going to be to celebrate the return of the GREATEST SHOW EVER (The Walking Dead) on October 14th. Do you have your calendars marked? I do.

By the way, Hobby Lobby has zero zombie items. I don’t know what I was looking for exactly but I didn’t find it. There was, however, an abundance of fake candy corn and fluffy ghosts, if you’re wondering. Anyway, I guess it’s back to the drawing board on this craft. I’m not going to be able to wing it on this one, I’m going to have to actually come up with a PLAN. But don’t worry, the zombie wreath is still happening, stay tuned, it may or may not be a creepy disaster but it IS still happening. Anyway, we gave up on zombie stuff that day and found other things to do, like this:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Later, when we arrived home and unloaded from the car, Bella found her blow up alligator pool float in the garage and decided to wear it out into the rain.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Then she wore it into the house and ate dinner in it (no photo available). And later? I was taking a shower while I *thought* she was playing games on her iPad. Imagine my surprise when she ripped back the shower curtain and insisted on joining me in my shower, butt naked and wearing her alligator. I was kind of shocked she wanted to shower, considering she’s only ever taken bathes but I decided to let her join, gator and all. She enjoyed it and danced about underneath the falling water and eventually tossed ol’ gator to the side, because let’s face it, a float in the shower really cramps one’s style.

She also took a loofa and lathered it up with my shower gel and insisted I wash the same body parts as her at the same time: “Toes, Mommy, toes! Booty, Mommy, booty! Tummy, Mommy, tummy!”  I think that I’ve created a monster, though, because ever since, I cannot take a shower in peace. When she hears the water start, she darts from one end of the house to the other while ripping her clothes off. I think we might have a problem.

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