TheMommyBlog

Saturday, April 10, 2004 Weblogs

I always say I’ll resist posting strange keyword referrals, but damn.

Princeton nude olympics photo archives
what is mrs. polie’s first name
wash my shirt bitch

And here are some from the logs, but, alas, I don’t have the links…

reverse cowboy blog
moo moo i love you i know you re a cow but anything will do
new barbies w/ gray hair
over mommy s knee for a spanking (knock it off, Genuine)
mommy loves kids to fucking with photos
kissing my roommate lesbian
discovery kids no really

Saturday, April 10, 2004 Me, Me, Me

1 glass chilled Toasted Head chardonnay
1 6 oz. Dove solid chocolate bunny (furtively pilfered from MIL’s care packge (“Huh? Oh, mommy didn’t get one this year…”)
3 fed, bathed, jammied children, nestled in front of Disney du jour
1 comfy computer chair

Add cool breeze to warm air and mix in one soft cotton tanktop and drawstring loungers.

Bliss.

Saturday, April 10, 2004 Family

We just returned from the doctor, who declared me strep-free, but something-else-full. Pharyngitis of idiopathic origin. AKA who-knows-wtf-it-is-so-here’s-some-antibiotics-just-in-case.

While we were there, the nurse asked if Dylan and Daphne were twins. *sigh* “No, they’re just really close in age. Eighteen months.” “We spaced the birth control.” “We’re Irish Catholics.” Actually the last two statements, while true, were uttered on the inside.

The doctor made up for it, though, when he expressed surprise that there was a third child at home, a six-year-old. “Wow, you must have started young!” “No, I’m 35. I was 29 when I had my first.” “Oh. That’s right. [peers closely] You could have fooled me. I would have guessed mid-20’s.”

And he wasn’t even trying to sell me something. I grinned.

So now we’re home while Gil and Logan are at t-ball. I just don’t feel up to going over there. Besides, I can put the kids in the living room at their little table with juice, yogurt and goldfish crackers to watch Dora, something that would never happen on Gil’s watch. He’d freak if he could see them in there, unsupervised with cultured edibles. Heh. Makes it twice the fun, in my opinion.

(OK, OK, I put a splat mat down; I’m not a total idiot. And if you haven’t discovered the Land of Nod yet, go there now. It’s fabul-great, as Jilbur would say.)

Oh, love this: Dylan just walked in with his empty goldfish bowl to complain that they tasted yucky. “I see you managed to eat them all, though.” “But they tasted yucky because they had germs on them.” “Hmmm. What did these germs look like?” “Rug.” “Well, no wonder.”

Saturday, April 10, 2004 Me, Me, Me

Now, I have something very shocking to tell you, and I know it’s something that none of you anticipated; I was blown away myself when I learned of it:

As soon as my project was completed, I got sick.

Whahuafuaaa? What are the odds? I mean, I was getting at least 4-5 hours of sleep a night, in 18-minute chunks, and was eating frequent meals—M&Ms for protein and mini-Milky Ways for calcium—and taking lots of (blogging) breaks.

I was exercising my heart vigorously, I mean what else are deadlines for, right? And I got plenty of fresh air each time I rolled down my window at the drive-thru. What could go wrong?

First, within two days of turning in that report, our house was ravaged by the stomach flu. Which doesn’t really need to be revisited here.

Then all week, a strange, low-level bug with aches and hmmm… what’s that term? It’s so apt… ah, yes: total freaking ragginess.

And now, I am fairly certain I have strep throat. Thirty seconds with my trusty compact mirror and a light revealed pretty little spots at the back of my throat, the icing on the two-ton lymph glands taking up residence under my chin. All kidding aside, I could just let my neck go limp and have a nap; they’ll hold my head right up.

I have concluded from this puzzling sequence of events that changes to how future projects are assigned and completed will be necessary. For instance, if the timeline is such that I have to spend my well-earned respite going for tests and feeling generally miserable, the least my bosses can do is carry these glands around themselves. I’d be more than happy to help find a place to store them.

Friday, April 09, 2004 Me, Me, Me

I’m going home now, as I have once again found myself in the ridiculous position of being the only person left in the department and quite possibly the building on a Friday before a holiday.

Why bother to tell you that? Well, because I just noticed that by the time I check in again, TMB will have passed 30,000 hits! And why bother to tell you that? Because it’s my flippin’ blog.

‘Night, lovies, and have a wonderful weekend!