Fashionista Goes to Texas Part 2

After eating our faces off in Memphis we started our journey in the rainy mid morning. We slept in as long as we could in hopes of recovering from a fabulous small dinner party at one of our favorite places, The Webb's. We had fabulous food, wine, and conversation. So fun! Pigpen slept first in the BOB (we took it into the Webb's beautiful home), and then on the floor on a cozy palette.

I knew that we had about 5 hours to go until we hit Texarkana, and that meant that my hopes of getting a Scholtzky's sandwich for dinner could possibly be reached. We left Memphis around 11:00 since it was close to Pigpen's nap. Poor little guy's schedule had been shattered in the past week, so we were trying to do the best we could. He fell asleep fairly quickly in the car, so we drove and drove and drove! I typed Schlotsky's into the GPS, and luckily it found one in Texarkana....just as I had hoped! It said we would get there at 4:30pm. I know we wouldn't be able to make it that long without stopping, so we decided to just play things by ear. I couldn't believe it when I found myself looking for signs for McDonald's. We knew that we would have to stop somewhere to let him run around a little whenever he woke up. Where is the perfect place? A mall, a playground, a nasty whore infested truck stop? Hmmmm, so may choices, and so many unknowns.

We hit the jackpot, so we thought, when we got to a town just south of Little Rock. A Chick-fil-A popped up on the GPS. Chick-fil-A is usually clean, and better for you according to all of the radio and television shows who compare fast food restaurants. It usually makes the, "not guaranteed to make your arteries clog" list. And....they usually have a playground thingy. We exited the highway, and saw it in the distance. It was so shiny and pretty. The little playground was so sweet and inviting, and I could almost taste the waffle cut fries and lemonade that would soon be in my belly. Then.....tragedy struck! We realized that it was Sunday! Yes, it was Sunday, and those nice Christian folks who started Chick-fil-A still stick to the old adage of, Sunday is for the family and worship......Crap! What about people who are traveling long distances and need a place for their 19 month old to run and dig? What about us!?

There was a McDonald's across the street with a super advanced over sized hamster's dream in the front, but it was outside, and it was starting to rain. Talk about rain on my parade! We headed back across the highway to the Burger King that we saw when we exited. We noticed that the sign said playground. It's funny how you notice these things once you have children. I would usually drive by a Burger King and just think, "gross", and now I've developed some sort of sonar for indoor playscapes that may not include hypodermic needles and perverts.

So, Burger King it was, and to our surprise and delight, the play area was glassed in, and secured with a door. We ordered a chicken salad and let Pigpen run wild. The actual playground was too advanced for him, it was another over sized hamster project, but he had fun running around and looking in all of the tunnels that he was too small to climb into. It was really nice.

After that, we made it to Schlotzky's where I managed to drop my entire cup of half Sprite and half Orange Soda all over the floor. It basically exploded when it hit the ground. I tried to blame it on Pigpen, but he was about 3 feet away when I did it. I have become a serious "dropper" since I've been pregnant. The sandwich was delicious, and totally took my mind off of the horrible traffic on 35, and the monsoon that was taking place outside. After our scrumptious feast, we loaded back up, bypassed the highway as much as possible on our way to Starbucks, and then headed for Boerne. Traffic thinned out after Texarkana, and we drove until we needed gas. I slept a little with Pigpen's stuffed alligator as lumbar support, and Piggy as a neck roll. Nothing like nodding off to sleep in the car with the faint smell of your child's slobbery stuffed animal behind your head.

Our next stop was in Hillsboro along with everyone else. We stopped at a Whataburger to let the boy run around one last time. This was the best idea so far since Whataburger was selling plastic trains. Pigpen spotted them immediately from across the counter and screamed out repeatedly "choo choo, choo choooo, choo choooooo." We were only able to buy one at a time, so my husband bought a strawberry shake, and then I went up and bought a small fry.....Pigpen got an engine car and a caboose. He played with these on the filthy Whataburger floor as I went out to the car to get his PJ's. No changing table in the bathroom, so I changed him into his PJ's right there on the plastic bench seat that is bolted to the ground. As I was stripping him of his clothes, I thought what the hell....might as well change his diaper too....it was just a tinkle diaper, and no one was in there. I could just pretend like I was from another country and didn't speak English if someone said something....right?

My husband drove until he couldn't stand it anymore, and woke me up to take over right when I had finally fallen into that really nice REM sleep mode. I took the wheel outside of Round Rock, and drove us all the way to Boerne....we got there at 2am, and immediately went to bed! What a journey! I made it without going into labor in Arkansas, and we didn't even have one disagreement or tift....not that we ever do, but someone is a little more bitchy these days....not gonna mention who...

Fashionista Goes To Texas

Yes, we decided to go to Texas to have the baby, and we didn't just decide to go to Texas, we decided to drive to Texas. I have to admit that I was a little nervous about the impending journey, well......okay, a lot nervous! I couldn't decide if it was worse to fly with Pigpen trying to step all over his unborn sister for four hours, or to ride in the car with a nineteen month old for, well, two days. Which one sounds more horrible to you?

Our thought process went something like this......if he is in the car, we can control him, and he will only bother us instead of the unsuspecting strangers on the plane: like the poor man who was sitting behind us that he decided to spit his binky on, or the lady that was showered with the water that he coughed up after getting a little too excited with my water bottle. If we drive, we can let him get out and run around when he gets crazy. However, four hours sounds better than 31. Yeah, that's right.....31.

Well, we decided to drive, and it wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it was going to be. My new car is sooooo comfortable, so I attribute most of my sanity to BMW. Thank you for making a comfy seat, and a backseat with a shitload of legroom. I also would like to thank my husband the Engineer for rigging up two "binky leashes" that he attached to Pigpen's carseat. This was a genius move! When you are a few weeks shy of 8 months pregnant, turning around in the front seat and looking for thrown binkies is not a comfortable move. In fact, it's enough to make you want to scream....the kind of scream that makes you hoarse for days!

We drove to PA first to spend Thanksgiving with my husband's family. This is an 8 hour drive that we split up with a stroll in Central Park. It was a beautiful day, and we decided to make the most of driving by NYC....we decided to actually stop this time. I found the Chanel Boutique in my GPS, and programmed it in to get us close to Central Park. We found street parking right next to the park and headed out for a stroll. It was a glorious day! Pigpen found a friend to play with....by play, I mean, he stole his soccer ball and Frisbee. The parents were very cool, so we hung out with them for a while, then we swung on the swingset with all of the New Yorkers, and tackled the slide. It was heaven. The trees were still beautiful vibrant fall colors, and people were out just enjoying the wonderful day. After the park we decided to head to ABC Carpet and Home for a Pot of Chocolate from the delicious little chocolatier inside the store. The hot chocolate is served in a sweet little white pot with an espresso size cup to drink from. It's like drinking a liquid candybar....I dream about it.

As we were driving downtown, or uptown, I don't really know. I just know that we passed Magnolia Bakery, and a man selling fake purses on the street. You may think, big deal...there are men selling fake purses all over NYC, and most of them suck. They say Prado and Cucci. But this man, this man had fabulousness. He had Goyard bags that looked absolutely Divine from the car! I gasped and screamed out Goyard! My husband looked at my like, "seriously, I'm in this crappy traffic, and your are screaming about fake purses!" He refused to stop, and I decided to be okay with it, but don't think I didn't think about those for the rest of the day...and don't think I didn't kick myself for not insisting he stop since I scanned every other fake purse table for any glimpse of Goyard and found nothing...nothing I tell you!!! He was the jackpot, and I totally missed it! I hate myself.

ABC carpet was as beautiful as ever. We walked in, and the store greeted us with beautifully organic yet fabulous handmade decor. Their Christmas stuff was up, and it was so shiny and white and whimsical. Pigpen stayed glued to my husband's shoulders....ABC Carpet is not a place to let a 19 month old loose...you would be sent to the poor house after having to pay for all the crap he could destroy. The store was fab, but we did run into a small hiccup. The chocolateir closed down like the week before! It sucked! I was so sad, but decided to make the most of a signature hot chocolate from Starbucks as my replacement. We didn't buy one thing, and decided to eat two hotdogs from a hotdog cart. I know it sounds terrible, but it was delicious! "If you were a hotdog and you were starvin, would you eat yourself...I know I would.....I would slather myself with brown mustard and relish...I'd be so delicious!" Thank you Will Ferrel as Harry Karry-SNL.

http://cubs.fandome.com/video/26579/Will-Ferrell-If-you-were-a-hot-dog/

After a fab visit to PA, we started our journey to Texas. We were going to stop in Memphis on the way to break it up and stay with my friend Ging. We left PA at 1pm, and got to Memphis at 4am. We stopped once for dinner at dare I say.....Chuck E Cheese. I think we were in Roanoke, VA when this took place. It was the best idea in the world. Yes, it took an hour away from driving, but Pigpen got to run lose like a hooligan and burn off some energy. Mommy and daddy had to eat shitty pizza and buffalo wings for dinner, but who cares....it's all about the kids right? My husband almost opted for the salad bar until I reminded him of where we were, and how the "sneeze guard" didn't really work for little grubby germ infested kids that are under 5 feet tall. Gross! We decided we were better off with high school kids working in the kitchen. We only stopped one more time after the damn GPS took us to a Starbucks located in the Student Center at the University of Tenn. Of course that was the one I chose. We ended up finding a real Starbucks around the corner. We got Pigpen out in his PJ's. The barrista gave us some steamed milk for him, and we let him eat a cookie and run around the coffee house in his footy PJ's. He loved it! I had to change him on a chair that was luckily sitting in the bathroom....poor little guy was looking at me like...."what the hell, mommy, this chair is about 2 feet across, and I'm about 3 feet long...this sucks!" Funny they don't have a changing table in the Starbucks by campus. After his milk, he fell asleep, and we just drove and drove and drove. We got to Ging's house and went to sleep in her cozy bed for a couple of hours. To be continued.....

Mothering Magazine

If you are ever in the checkout line at Whole Foods looking at all of the magazines....don't pick up "Mothering". Don't be drawn in by the cool looking couple on the front cover strolling through a park with a Chinese paper parasol. Don't let it draw you in with it's catchy title that says, "inspiring natural families since 1976".

I try to be "green", and I try to feed my family organic food. I nursed my son until he bit me at 7 months, and then was so liberated to be done. I try and make a geisha size carbon footprint on the earth, but I learned from looking through this magazine, that I don't take it to the next level.

I learned this when I got home from Whole Foods, put Pigpen in his crib for a nap and plopped down on the sofa with my shiny new $6 magazine. It was the "special pregnancy edition", so I couldn't wait to tear into it. I was going to read about "Real Birth stories from Real families like mine" so I can get in the right mindset to do this thing again. I was also excited to read about an eco-baby shower. I was most interested in the "does it hurt, how to minimize pain in labor" section. I remember that it hurt like a bitch before I got my epidural.

The next level would start with nursing. I don't really think it's beautiful. I think it is a little weird, and the furthest thing from glamorous there is. I did it for a long time, but I did it because it was what my body was made to do, and I was able to do it. So many of my friends tried, but couldn't, so I nursed for my son, my waistline, and for those who could not. I did nurse in the most unlikely of places.....the parking lot at Target, the bathroom at Neiman Marcus, a park bench in Concord, MA, at the Hyde Park restaurant in Austin. However, when I nursed I was always fully covered, yes, most likely sweating my ass off, but always fully covered and never too offensive.

The people in the "Mothering" magazine would shun me! These ladies are the type who would never own a Chanel anything, most likely have hairy armpits, and would think I was horrible to cover up such a miracle. Miracle shmiracle.....I don't want anyone to see that shit.....I didn't even like my husband to see it because it's weird. The ladies in this magazine sent in pictures of babies suckling on there big long breasts......I wanted to vomit!

Then, the article about "Real Birth Stories" were about home deliveries, and well, we all know how I feel about that. I love my Frette linens, and I don't want them anywhere near anything that has to do with actual labor! YUCK and a half! I was a little thrown off by the home birth lady's hairstyle. She had her hair in two french braids. Her hippie husband probably did it for her after he set up the indoor inflatable pool for there delivery session. I know that sounds horrible, but good Lord! I think home birth is crazy, and I think cloth diapers are gross, there I said it! I'm green, but I too have limits. Those limits include nursing in private, and disposing of crap filled diapers the good old fashion way. At least I don't throw them out of the car window.

American Airlines, Not Family Friendly

Yes, that is correct. If you have a small child, and you are wondering what airline to go with for a trip, American Airlines is not the way to go. My husband and I traveled from Boston to Texas for a family wedding last weekend with our precious little Pigpen, and couldn't be more appalled by the way American Airlines was running these days.

Maybe Boston Logan is just an unfortunate location to depart from, but as soon as we walked to the American Airline ticket counter, it just felt unfortunate. The people were not helpful, and there were not enough of them. Well, not enough of them present in their job meaning there were two ladies talking behind the counter about their insurance election with the company. Talking loud enough for the passengers to understand that they were not working on a ticket for someone, but on some personal business for one of the gate agents. Not good. Not good at all when you are trying to check in and get through security with all of your parent paraphernalia. Once their conversation seized, we were able to get our question answered about the bags. You have to pay $20 to check a bag which is a ridiculous rip off, and you have to pay before your bag even gets tagged or seen by an agent. Our question was......do we have to pay for the car seat too? Do you select two checked bags or one? If we select the car seat or wheelchair option it immediately tells you to go and wait in the, "you will never make your flight line". We are savvy travelers, so we know better than to do what the stupid check in screen tells you, so we stood our ground and waited to ask an agent.

She told us to only mark one bag, and that she would check our car seat through to San Antonio for free. Things were looking up, but not for long. We boarded the plane, and sat down in our tiny seats. The rows on American are soooo close together. We were both thanking the mile Gods that my husband had enough miles to get us three seats instead of just two. We both knew that keeping Pigpen from kicking the seat in front of him was going to be a damn miracle, so if you are ever on a flight sitting in front of some brat kicking your seat......don't blame the kid or the parents.....blame American Airlines for making the seats too damn close together.

So, after we boarded in our group number.....not priority boarding for families.....yeah that's right, the lady told me that they stopped family boarding years ago because there were just too many families flying these days. I looked around and saw one other baby, and wanted to slap her across the face as I told her that Southwest, Jet Blue, Northwest, and Delta all had some sort of priority for families, but I just smiled and walked away.

We were on the plane, and Pigpen and I were looking out the window at all of the trucks and planes, and we saw the bag trailer pull up and start loading bags onto the plane. This is when my blood boiled. I was shocked and speechless when I saw Pigpens Pristine khaki colored Britax car seat riding on the conveyor belt with no bag around it!!!!!! It was just riding up there with it's straps loose and cover open to germs and dirt. I wanted to scream!!!! I have never flown on an airline that doesn't bag your car seat. A car seat is for a baby, and babies are susceptible to germs and are at higher risk of dying from things like the flu, and not to mention the damn swine flu! They charged me $20 to take my belongings with me on the plane, and then didn't even have the decency to spare a few cents for a plastic bag for my car seat!!!!!! I hate them!

Once we arrived in Chicago we followed the signs to our gate; our gate was located in Hades! It was about 80 degrees in the gate area, and there were not nearly enough seats to accommodate the plane load, so I was forced to sit on a small food table and think light thoughts as I considered how humiliating it would be if the damn thing broke. I scarfed down a sandwich as my husband chased Pigpen through the airport. I just love those people who see your baby running around with a big smile on his face, and the only thing they can say is, "tire him out". Why don't they just say that they hope they don't have to sit next to us. Rude! Anyway, of course our flight was delayed, so we had to wait way longer than planned and watch Pigpen get way passed his limit. We finally decided to put him in his stroller and jiggle him to sleep. He fussed and then fell asleep. He hadn't been asleep five minutes when the gate agent came on the intercom to say something important and entirely garbled to all people wanted to gate check a stroller. Having not understood one thing he said, I rolled my sleeping baby angel up to him to get my gate check tag, and was horrified to learn that he wanted to take my stroller right then and there. Pigpen was sleeping and we still had about 15 minutes in Hades before we were even going to board. Not good! Me and another mother unloaded all of our shit from our strollers and reluctantly handed them over to the stupid man who obviously didn't have children. Some businessmen gave me a, "that guys is a stupid ass" look as they asked me if I needed help. I thanked them and said no as I hoisted my sleepy baby over one shoulder and his stuffed pig, alligator, blanket, and jacket over the other.

Upon arrival in San Antonio, I got my stroller back at the gate with one less stroller clip on it, which meant I would have to carry my diaper bag to baggage claim since they broke them off. Awesome!

On the way back, we went through Dallas, and still experienced walking through nice part of the airport only to get to the shitty American terminals. We passed by this fabulous little play area that was right up Pigpens ally, but could only stop to play for about 3 minutes since we had to huff it to the crap terminal and wait there for bad service and shitty treatment. This time, I didn't have to relinquish my stroller until I was boarding, but I did get to watch some old hag take it and literally throw it down a metal shoot to who knows where. I doubt it landed softly on a crash mat! I was speechless along with my husband. The people behind us were just as shocked, and one of the girls said, "oh my gosh, she just threw your belongings down that thing like they were nothing!" I wanted to grab the old hag and throw her down the shoot so she could see what my poor little Bob had just experienced. It's times like these when you are reminded of how much you spent on something, and how pissed off it makes you when other people treat it like it was a piece of trash......what a bitch!

Then, we boarded our flight to a bunch of bitchy flight attendants with big fat asses! The one with the biggest ass was the nastiest! We sat down in our seats, and decided to change Pigpen out of his PJs and into normal clothes. I was going to change his diaper before we did this, so I headed for the bathroom at the back of the plane. Our seats were more than halfway back, so most of the people in the back had already taken their seats at this point. The big booty ho saw me coming down the isle with my child in one arm, and diaper supplies in the other. She asked me if I was going to change his diaper, and I replied with a yes. She then turned around curtly and said well let me just see. She headed to the bathroom, so I followed her; she opened the door, and then said to me in the most nasty way, "well there is no changing table in these back here, you are going to have to go up to the front.....that is what i was checking on, I knew there wasn't." I just smiled and said, "okay, thank you." In my head, I said, "bitch, do I look clarevoent, or like I am from a planet where reading minds is one of the five senses; all you had to do was tell me to wait while you checked for a changing table." After that, there was no chance of getting the forward cabin, so we changed him in the seat.....it was just tinkle, and that lady's bitchy attitude made it acceptable behavior from us.

After that, the other bitchy McBitcherson got on the intercom and explained the snack situation to everyone like we were a bunch of half witted morons. She was so horribly condescending and awful when she was explaining the cheese and cracker option. She wanted everyone to know that it only had one piece of cheese in it, and that there were only four crackers accompanied by a very small box of raisins, and an even smaller bag of nuts. She should have just said that she didn't want to hear bitching and complaining from people who purchased these. She then went on to say that the only liquor to be served was a very small bottle of vodka for 6, and she enunciated again, SIX dollars. After that she condescendingly reminded everyone that they only take credit cards, NO CASH!!! She was awful!

The whole experience was like that from the bad service, rude people, and the crappy planes. It made us realize how much better Southwest and Jet Blue are. American is off of our list of options from now on! They only fly in the unfriendly skies!

Toilet Troubles

My mom recently came up for a visit and we had a fabulous time! We shopped and shopped and shopped so much, and we loved every second of it! I am totally in the "nesting phase" of my pregnancy, so I am yearning to get things ready for Zady's arrival. I need to clean out all of Pigpens clothes and send them to a new home, so I can replace all of that space with pink Tutu's, leopard print Uggs, and other various wardrobe staples for the future fashionista.

Pigpen goes to Daycare two days a week now, so my mom and I had some free time to do some baby free shopping! This meant we could actually go to Antique stores and small boutique shops that are not equipped for the BOB stroller. We started one of our shopping excursions in Wrentham at a giant Antique Mall. It was so fun! There were so many great pieces of jewelry that called me by my first name. They would call out from the case, "Hello, I am real ivory, and I would look stunning around your neck. You should take me home......take me home this instant!" It was so hard to resist, but I passed all of them up, and made my way to a clothing booth in the back of the store.

Stepping into the booth was like stepping back in time. My eyes immediately spotted a light colored Mink coat that was in excellent condition. I ripped it off the hanger and tried it on. Too big! Crap! I need a mink so bad....you just have no idea.....it gets cold enough to wear those Elmer Fudd hats up here in the winter......Fur is a must for warmth in these here parts. I walked out of the clothing booth with the mink on my body, and a Jakie O pillbox hat on my head. I found my mom, and said, "what do you think?" She laughed along with the shop owners. She came back to the boutique and was shocked to see such a beautiful mink for sale. She made me take it off so she could give it a try. It totally fit her perfect, so she knew what she had to do. There was no price on the coat, so we enlisted the help of the desk ladies. They came back to the booth to my mom in the mink coat and pillbox hat, and to me dressed in a sheared beaver bolero, neck scarf , and a red pillbox hat. They loved it! The coat wasn't marked, but we found out it was $165! What! For a real mink coat??? My mom asked if they would take $100, and they said yes. She said, "sold", and that was that! She now had a new mink coat to wear to and from the gate at her house in Texas when she takes the camouflage golf cart down to the gate in the mornings to get the paper. Ridiculous!

After the purchase of the century, we headed to Wellesley to check out the fru fru consignment shops. I wanted to see if they had any great bags that needed to belong to us. Last time I scored a beautiful lambskin Prada bag, and a pink Bottega Veneta bag for mear pennies! We had high tea at a small tea shop, and then headed to the store. All that tea made a pregnant girl have to tinkle so I had to ask the shop owner if I could use there crappy little bathroom in the storage room. They like me there, so they said of course. Once I got into the bathroom I noticed they needed a new role of toilet paper, so I got one out, took the old one off, and put the new one on just the way it should be. All the while, I thought to myself, "how nice am I right now, I could totally just use a new role and place it on top of the old role, but no......I'm going the extra mile to do the right thing." Feeling good about my secret good deed, and feeling much better with an empty bladder, I headed to the sink to wash my hands.

As I was washing my hands, I noticed a very loud noise coming from the toilet, so I looked over to see what the hell was going on.....that is when the horror ensued! There was water shooting out of the back of the toilet!!!!! I had never seen anything like it! I mean, don't get me wrong, I've seen the water rise helplessly in the bowl in a attempt to overflow and ruin the floor, but I have never seen it shooting out of the back of the toilet! I freaked! I knew that the water should be turned off at the wall, but the floor was totally flooded by this point, and I was wearing my suede Tod's loafers. They would be ruined if I tried to shut the water off! I ran out of the bathroom, and told the shop lady that there was water running out of the toilet. She said, "oh, you have to jiggle the handle sometimes." I said, "NO, you don't understand, water is shooting out the back and onto the floor!" She dropped the Hermes Scarf that she was tagging and ran for the bathroom. She shouted and screamed when she saw the flooded floor. She turned off the water at the wall, and then continued to panic and scream things like, "my new floor, my new floor." She was referring to the new faux hardwood floor that was in the store....not the bathroom. The bathroom/store room was laminate. She was dancing around in the water like a chicken with it's head cut off, and I was thinking to myself....."lady, there are 32 rolls of paper towels on that metal shelf across from the toilet....that is where I would start. I suggested it, and she then grabbed them and shooed me away.

I walked sheepishly away to the counter with that, "I am so sorry I just flooded your bathroom" look on my face. You know, teeth together, mouth in a "oops" kind of frown. The other lady said that it wasn't my fault, and said something about a sweaty workman that was in there earlier. Also feeling horrible and somewhat obligated to do something was my sweet mom. She went over to see if she could lend a hand, and saw the shop owner standing in water almost to the top of her sandal clad foot. She felt compelled to assure her that since the water was shooting out of the back of the toilet that she was most likely not standing in "tinkle". I wanted to die! The lady now had a plunger with a huge orange cone on the end, and was plunging the toilet. My mom mentioned yet again that she can be relieved that she wasn't standing in "tinkle". I died another death!

The lady concluded that I had used too much toilet paper, and that is why the toilet over flowed. I saw it with my own eyes! It didn't "overflow". It was possessed by the devil, and let's not forget that I am environmentally conscious, and I don't waste paper....toilet paper included. I just went #1.....there is no way some English Breakfast tea and about 4 squares of toilet paper could do such damage. However, she was convinced I used as much toilet paper as that stupid little bear on the toilet paper commercial, and she hated me.

After lingering for a bit, we decided there was nothing more that could be done, and it was best for us to just leave, so we did just that. I have some clothes there on consignment, but I don't dare call to see how they are doing, and when I will get my check. I might just wait it out, and see if I get one in the next month or two. How humiliating. My status has gone from "cute pregnant girl who brightens our day" to "Big fat bitch of a pregnant girl who ruined the store room by wiping with a whole roll of toilet paper."

In the words of Rachel Zoe, "I die....I die right now".

The 4am Flogging

Why is it that the damn boy always gets sick when my husband is either out of the country, or all the way across the Nation? I don't know if he has ever been here when we have had to take temperatures and ponder a visit to the stupid idiot Nurse Practitioner. Well, there was that one time in Martha's Vineyard.....thank goodness he was there that time because I would have had to go and wake up his boss and boss's wife at midnight, and well......"homey don't play that".

Anyway, my mom was just here for a two week visit that absolutely flew by! We picked up Pigpen from Daycare on Tuesday, and the girls told me that they took his temp because he was really fussy, and not acting like his normal chipper self. He had a temp of 100. Eh, big deal! Give the boy some "dope" (Tylenol) and move on. That is my thinking, but I couldn't say that. I had to say, "oh, oh no, thank you for taking his temp; I will give him some Tylenol when I get home." So, we did just that, and he took a big fat nap!

My sister-in-law is a Physician, and between her and a Pediatric Cardiologist friend, they both recommend, alternating Tylenol and Motrin when your child has a fever. You give one of them every four hours. The Pediatric Cardiologist said that she doesn't even take her child's temp, she just gives her the medication and monitors her child's behavior. Thus, I am not concerned with numbers when it comes to a fever. My sister-in-law said that a child will not die from a self induced fever. They will die if they get a fever from being left in a hot car, or something like that, but if your child gets a fever and their ears and throat look clear, you just need to let it run it's course. "Dope" every four hours will help the child feel more comfortable.

Armed with this info, I tried to do my best on Wednesday after dropping off Ya Ya at the airport. Pigpen was not too comfy in the car, and took a nap when we got home.....a long nap! I long enough nap for me to watch 90210, The Rachel Zoe Project, and Gossip Girl. I was in heaven with the Tivo remote and my tall no water Chai Latte from Starbucks. After his nap, he was not happy, and totally burning up. I decided to open up the $30 thermometer I bought after our return from Martha's Vineyard and try it out. You stick it in the ear......scary! I was sure he would hate it, but he actually let me do it. Of course, I had to stick it in my ear first, then Piggy's ear, and finally his. Temp was 103.5. I tried to remember what the medical professionals said, but it is hard to not feel helpless and a little lost when you see such a big number, so I called the damn doctor.

Of course, my doctor could get me in at 4:30, or the stupid idiot Nurse Practitioner could see me at 1pm. I couldn't bare to wait until 4:30, so I chose the NP. Dumb! I forgot that she didn't know that their were two types of Balmex last time I saw her for his Eczema, but I quickly remembered when we were in her grasp. I mean, I don't expect her to know all the brands of diaper rash cream in the world, but Balmex is pretty common, and she is a mother herself. How do I know more than she does when it comes to diaper rash cream? She insinuated that I was a moran for putting Balmex on his Eczema since it had zinc in it, and well, that would be moranic if I actually used the white cream, but I didn't. I used the clear Balmex that is similar to Vaseline, and she didn't believe me that it existed......I hated her.

Anyway, we go to see her to get his ears and throat checked out and to get him tested for the flu. I am 5 months preggo, so that is the last thing we need in our house....the damn pregnant lady death sentence of the swine flu! Well, guess what, they don't test for the flu, only the ER tests for the flu, so basically I learned that his ears and throat looked good, and to give him Motrin. She suggested to only do Motrin every 6 hours and not alternate. I tried it, and it sucked! Alternating is better! Listen to the ones that went to school longer!!!!! I hate myself for not sticking to the plan.

Pig was miserable. He just wanted to lay on me all day long.....preferably with his knees on his unborn baby sister. He went to sleep around 8:45, and slept until 3:45am. We got up, we drank water, we got our dope (motrin this time), and we took our temp. That is when the thermometer read 106, and then said ER C. Error, I suppose. I don't know, I read the instructions, and there was no explanation for an ER C message in the display window, and then it wouldn't get itself off of Celsius! I wanted to throw it so far into the lake, but I just kept my composure and tried to change the batteries. It's moments like these when you just want to cry too. He was crying, so why shouldn't we just make a family pitty party out of it? After we changed the batteries, we still got the same message. It sucked! Everything sucks worse at 4am when you are walking up and down the stairs in a tank top, bikini panties, no shoes, with a giant pregnant belly in front, a much bigger ass than you have ever had in the back, and a sick unhappy snotty nosed baby on your side. Shitty!

So we both went into my room to try and go back to bed. He wriggled around for a good 20 minutes as he moaned, and then he finally settled on a sideways sleeping position with both hot little fire poker feet resting on my back. So, I had his little "foot coals" digging into my back, and Zady (the unborn) was doing Turbokick in my belly. I laid there on my side and thought...."This is torture, and the second one isn't even out of the womb yet." What's is going to be like when they are both here and both sick, and I'm playing single mom for the week? Ahhhhh!!!!! I don't know if I'm ready for that yet.

He woke up feeling good and cool as a cucumber, so I sent him to daycare. They called me at 11am to come and get him. Dammit! I can't win!

Destination Maternity or Destination Divorce?

If you've never been into one, the name might sound really cheesy and a little scary. I always thought of it as a place full of khaki pants that resemble something my grandmother would wear mixed with some sort of electronic store issued uniform, and those horrible black rayon empire waisted shirts with ugly tropical white flowers on them. You know.....the really ugly maternity clothes that just make you look like a pregnant whale!

But oh, I was "oh" so wrong! This place is like a shiny little jewel of an oasis sparkling in the distance for every pregnant woman to enjoy. My friend Natasha told me about it, and I decided to check it out. I think Angels sang in unison as I walked through the door, and I'm almost sure that my hair blew back and a light shone in on me as I entered. This place was heaven for the knocked up! When the Angels ceased their tunes, and the wind in my hair was gone, a cute girl dressed in all black and one of those Britney Spears headsets walked up to me and offered me a water or a fresh orange juice. I was thrown off at first, but completely delighted at such an offer. Then she went on to explain to me how the store worked.

They have three different sections of clothing. They have them laid out as almost free, affordable, and completely fabulous but you're smokin crack if you buy more than 4 things from this section. Of course I loved everything in the designer section. Then, wait for it, wait for it, they have a spa; yeah that's right.....a spa. A spa designed just for pregnant ladies. I was looking at the entrance to the little dreamy location called Edamame Spa, and there was a stylish looking preggo checking in for her massage. I died! The girl looked at my face and said, "come on over and check out our spa menu.....everything is tailored to pregnancy, and all of our therapist are trained in prenatal care." I felt like I was part of some alien Government experiment that was too good to be true. I had died and gone to heaven!

Not only do they have all of these fabulous features.....there's more! They have a sweet little Yoga studio filled with birch wood and smokey glassed walls. It was so cute and tranquil, and I think the classes are free! There was also a little section full of baby gear....really cute and trendy baby gear: just the type of thing that you would want to see on your baby to be. Just down from the baby gear section and the spa was the literature and lotion section. Of course I loved that! I love products and these were all products for preggos. I bought the Boob Tube and the Belly Rub. It was like being at Whole Foods: I didn't have to read any of the labels....you just knew the stuff was good. I ended up in the dressing room with several items from the "you're smokin crack" section. I had 2 pair of Seven For All Mankind jeans, one pair of Citizens, a pair of A Gold E cords, a fabulous little valour tracksuit by Hardtail with a jeweled winged heart on the back, some Mavi shorts, and some cute tops. All of the bottoms were over $100 for sure, but they were all so lovely.

I tried on, fell in love, but then slapped myself back into reality! These were maternity clothes, and I was only going to have one more baby! Last time I could justify buying nice stuff because I was working, and I was most likely going to have another baby. This time, not so much! I am only having this little sweet girl, and then I am calling it quits! The angel on my left shoulder said, "Do you really need to wear $200 maternity jeans to the playground where you will be sitting in the sandbox?" Then the devil on might right shoulder countered back with a, "But they are soooo cute and sooo comfy.....you will look so smart in these, and you will long for them in years to come at the Thanksgiving dinner table." Crap! What was a hormonally challenged stifled fashionista to do? I sat down, took a deep breath, thought of my husband, and settled on a pair of $50 shorts (that was the sale price for the Mavi's) and a cute black sleeveless top with a ruffled collar.

I still spent more than I should have, but at least I knew I would still be married when I got home. I haven't been back since. I want to go sooo bad, but I am trying to steer clear. I might have to break down and go this week with my mom since I tried on my one option, a black dress from the Gap, for a wedding I have to go to in Texas next month. Neither my mom or my husband were blown away by the jersey knit wrap dress with long sleeves. Oh to be pregnant and fashionable.....it's so hard.

Home Delivery

Hey there blog readers! Sorry I have been so tardy with my posts. I was in PA for two weeks getting ready for my brother-in-law's wedding. It was a gorgeous affair, and now I am finally back home and slowly slipping back into my morning routine. This routine includes watching The Today Show as I get breakfast ready for myself and Pigpen.

Yesterday I was doing just that, and they were talking about the growing trend of "Home Delivery" among mother's to be. You may wonder....hmmm.....home delivery? Well, let me clarify; they weren't referring to buying your maternity clothes on line and choosing the home delivery option, and they weren't talking about how easy it is to seek out all of your nursery furniture on line and choose home delivery......they were talking about the growing trend of having your baby at home!!!!!! Are you serious? Yes!

Apparently this is a growing trend among educated career holding citizens around my age. I really like my home, and appreciate my home. Especially when I am gone for long periods of time. There is something to be said about your own bed and your own toilet, but I gave birth to Pigpen, and I don't want any of that shit happening in my own home. Do you remember Ricki Lake? The bigger girl in the 80's trio band who went on to have her own talk show. Yeah well, she made a Documentary called the "The business of being born", or some crap like that, and is a true advocate of giving birth at home. She was quoted saying things like, "it's better for the baby because you are bringing them into a familiar environment instead of a scary hospital room with machines and strangers". What!

I love those machines and strangers! Those machines were comforting to me because I knew they could take over if I couldn't for some strange reason, and those same machines were there to keep my new baby alive in extenuating circumstances! I loved those strangers! Those strangers were trained to know what to do with my newborn son if he wasn't breathing or swallowed his own crap during birth (I read about that in the birthing books).

I agree that your home is a great place with many familiarities, but I don't think it is a great place to delivery a human baby that is attached to your with an umbilical cord and covered in labor goo! What the hell do they do with the placenta? Put it in the kitchen sink? I think this a horribly stupid trend, and anyone who follows it is insane!

Hospitals are gross for the most part, but they keep people alive! They are trained in these procedures and have figured out the most efficient and affective way to deliver a baby. The Today Show had a couple on yesterday to talk about their experience with home delivery, and they were mourning the death of their baby. This idiot couple struggled through home delivery for four days! Four days without going to the hospital! Did the baby live.....hell no! The cord was wrapped around the little girl's neck, and she died in the womb! Absolutely appalling!

My husband caught the end of the special and reminded me of all of our friends who recently had babies, and who had to have emergency C-sections. I think back to my friend Amy who wanted all her life to have a natural child birth. She pushed and pushed and pushed for an entire day with a trained Dulla by her side, and ended up having to chuck the Dulla because of the "only one person" rule for an emergency C-section. My nephew Reed has been mischievous from the start.....he had his cord wrapped around his neck, so my sister-in-law also had to have an emergency C-section. My dear friend Meredith pushed and pushed and pushed, only to discover after her C-section that her child had an enormous head that had no chance of fitting through the birth canal (he will be smarter than all of our babies). And then there's me. I had a great normal child birth experience that involved my husband, my mother, and my best friend. We had a great time until Pigpen actually emerged with his 8lb 7oz self and ripped my chode clear from here to there! Who would repair the torn taint if I were at home? That took my doctor a long time to stitch from the inside out so I wouldn't pee out of my asshole for the rest of my life! Can you imagine a fashionista who pees out of her ass? No, it's horrifying!

Thus, I think home delivery is the dumbest thing on earth! You are setting yourself up for disaster! I would love to hear from advocates if there are any, and then I would love to slap you across the face with my elbow length Ralph Lauren leather gloves!

Fashionyousta

Yeah, that's what I feel like lately....not a Fahionista, but a Fashionyousta. That is a person that used to be a Fashionista....a high heel wearing clutch carrying, long necklace sporting fashionista. I was reminded of this as I scanned Rachel Zoe's picks on Piperlime.com. All the boots are so high....they go over the knee and up the thigh. I actually had a pair of black suede thigh high boots when I was a freshman in High School. I wore them in London with a blazer and leggings, and then I busted them out a few years later for a Sadie Hawkins dance with my boyfriend my Junior Year. I think the teachers at his school thought I worked at Legs....the local titty bar. But, I said it back then, and I'll say it now; they can take their math number embroidered sweater cardigans and shove them up their ass. Yeah, I said it!

Of course I feel less fashionable since I am obviously pregnant, and my ass is growing faster than that little bean we all planted in a Styrofoam cup in grade school, but I know it's all worth it, and with yesterday's fabulous news, I also know that I don't ever have to gain this much weight again! You may think yeah right, it's too hard to stay skinny, but you haven't seen my closet and my fabulous jean collection. I only got to wear the Dolce pencil skirt twice! I have to get back into it! My best friend came to visit me from California, and I made her try it on with a cute little white button down with ruffles down the front when she was here. I just wanted to see what I would look like again some day. I always make her try on stuff at my house when I am knocked up! I bought the cutest Chloe jacket last time I was 8 months pregnant. It was going to be a jacket for the fall in Boston. It was a light chambray color and it had the most fabulous little white buttons all down the front. The jacket was long and had a skirt-like look that cinched in at he waist and flared out ever so deliciously. The jacket said, "I'm way to fabulous for a trench!" It was a size 4, and I wasn't sure that it was going to fit when I was back to normal. I made her try it on, and it looked too big, so I took it back. I miss it! I could be wearing it right now!

As I gazed at the thigh high leather boots on the Piperlime website, I was reminded of my lovely Tory Burch riding boots that I bought a few months ago. Those bastards better go over my calves come fall! Last time I was pregnant I was banished to buying only shoes and handbags. I refused to spend money on Maternity stuff! I bought all my official maternity gear at Target and Old Navy, so I supplemented that with Manolos and Miu Miu for my feet and shoulders. My dear friend Ginger came to visit me when I was about 7 months along, and we had to go shoe shopping. We love to try on the most fabulous, most outrageous, and most expensive shoes we can find. We strap them up and then walk over to one another and say, "what do you think, is it a must?", and then we die laughing (quietly of course) at the price.

I will never forget the hour we spent in the Neiman Marcus special markdown suite; she tried on the most gorgeous Gucci pumps. They were royal blue sequins all over! I tried on a pair of gray suede high heel Cole Haan boots. They were fab! They had tassels on the top....it was like something JLo would were with a white Fox fur. I paraded my pregnant ass around in them until I decided to get them, and then I sat down and realized that I couldn't get the damn things off! I tried with all my might, and this only made me break a small sweat. I looked at her and said, "you're gonna have to pull." She pulled, I pointed and flexed, she pulled, I thought skinny calf thoughts.....she pulled, and then we just had to laugh! I thought we were going to have to get the Jaws of Life to get the suede boots off! By then, I was laughing so hard I was crying, and I had visible sweat sprouting up on my upper lip! After we caught our breath, and I tried to separate my skin from the leather lining, we finally got the stupid things off. Of course I bought them anyway. I just thought I would wear them on really cold nights......you know......so my calves would be smaller.

It worked, I wore them to several parties, and I can wear them now, well a few months ago with no problem. I swear! I love fall fashions! I love them so much! I love getting the giant extra thick In Style and Vogue with Fall fashions exploding off of every page! It makes me think of the first day of school, and how I would plan out my outfits for the whole first week! The preppy look is always in when fall hits....it doen't matter what year! It makes me want to wear wide leg khaki pants and a Ralph Lauren Button up with a fabulous tweed blazer toped off with a pageboy hat and fingerless gloves! I loved it! I know my husband is super happy about my new Fashionyousta status.

I guess I have the rest of my life to sport some fabulous fall fashions. This is the last fall that I ever have to be knocked up. I will say that it does make it a lot easier knowing that my wardrobe sucks and my ass is getting wider for a sweet little baby girl. If she is anything like my son, I will be the luckiest woman on earth, and I will at least have a good handbag to sport with it.

Say What!!!

We had our "determine the sex" ultrasound today. I could not sleep a wink last night. I tossed and turned and tossed and turned. I was so anxious about today. It was also a balmy 80 degrees in our bedroom last night. I think my La Mer face cream was melting in the bathroom, and I told my husband that I felt like I was camping. We had all the windows open in our room, and all we could here was the damn wilderness. I was sweaty and sticky and forced to listen to the symphony of critters right outside all four windows. I was having flashbacks to Camp Champions. I told him that I hoped we could make it to the Ultrasound in time from our camp sight. He laughed and assured me that we could roll up the tent in a flash. I had weird dreams of some underground bomber that I was trying to find. Once we found him I realized the people helping me were the Reno 911 police department actors, and I knew that nothing good could come of the dream. I woke up after that at 4am, used the facilities and tossed and turned some more.

I was too excited to here the news, too excited to get to write this blog, too excited to keep the Leopard print Baby Uggs that I bought for her last week, too excited for a lot of things. Then, my excitement turned to "what if". What if it's not a girl, and I have to drive back to the outlet mall and return my sweet little Uggs with big crocodile tears in my pregnant eyes? What if we have two rambunctious little boys and I have a house full of little wieners that pee on the seat? What if I never have a "mini me"?

My husband already has his "mini me". Pigpen's first word was "car", and he loves trucks, wheels, cars, motorbikes, pretty much all things boy. I can see his little mind wondering how things work, and he can't even talk yet. He figured out where the soap was in the bubble mower and turned the damn thing over to see it run out of the side. He is so my husband's "mini me". I wanted one of my own so bad! I want someone who I can teach about fashion and shopping, and boys, and bargains, and everything fabulous!!

The Ultrasound lady was nice, but not too vocal. She measured every part of that baby's body. She measured the head, the legs, feet, arms, hand, brain, spine........I was like blah blah blah......how's about measuring the damn genitalia! I was sure that she would be able to see a wiener or a bajayjay if she could spot the kidneys. She kept me in suspense for what felt like half and hour, and then she looked at me and looked at my husband and said, "are you ready?" Hells yeah I'm ready! I was ready May 14th lady! Then, she pointed to the screen.....my heart stopped beating for a few seconds, and she said, "do you see those three little lines right there?" I was thinking yes yes, so our child has a mini blind growing out of it's ass......spit it out lady.....what is it? What does it mean?? Then she said it, "you are having a girl." I tried to hold em back, but I couldn't. My perfect line of noir liquid eyeliner was going to be missing on the corners of my eyes. I cried a little, and then a little more. I conveniently wiped my tears with the bottom of my long maxi dress that was hiked up to my boobs. After the lump in my throat went down, and I could actually get a word out I said, "are you positive?" She looked at me and smiled and said, "I don't tell people unless I'm sure, but nothing is 100%, however, I have never been wrong." The blinds definitely looked different from Pigpen's little light switch.

I was soooo excited!!!!! All I have to say is Holy Shitballs!!!!!! I'm having a girl!!!!!! I can not believe it! I thought this would never happen! Okay, well maybe I did since I have been convinced the whole time that it was a girl. She better not want to wear sneakers and gym shorts like my brother in law is threatening! My ass has grown significantly, and I have what appear to be love handles, but it is all worth it now. I will embrace my giant ass and love handles knowing that they are the product of a sweet little mini me. I love her so much already!

I already have her crib set picked out. It's the one I wanted to buy for Pig, but decided it was too girly. You can check it out at, http://www.modernessentials.com/viewitem.cfm/item_id/2011. Pigpen has the Transportation set by Dwell, so they will mesh fantastically. The poor kids have to share a room, so this is important.

I still can't believe I am having a girl. I have been extra cautious with my precious little cargo today. Girls are more sensitive and fragile, so I told my husband I would no longer eat sushi or jump on the trampoline. I feel like the luckiest girl in the world! If you are reading this please hope with all of your might that this little baby does not sprout a Johnson between now and January. I am going to thank my lucky stars tonight before bed for sure. Thank you God! You freakin Rock!

The Perfect Toy

Toys are a funny thing when you're a parent. You think you know your child, and you really do know them better than anyone, but it is so hard to hit the jackpot with toys. I can't tell you how many times I bought something thinking that he would just go nuts over it, and he could care less!

When he was just learning to crawl, I saw a little ball at TJ Maxx that lit up and played music when you moved it. He would go crazy for music and lights at that age, so I though he was going to be in playing heaven when I took it out of the bag. Wrong! 100% Wrong! He could have cared less. It was that month that he was completely captivated by the plastic tube my electronic milk frother came in. He pushed that around the floors for weeks. I eventually put it in the toy basket so he could find it and keep himself busy for hours. WTF? I'm sure that plastic tube had a warning on it that discouraged such behavior, but he loved that damn thing, and I wasn't about to take away something that was fun!

I have definitely hit it big with anything that involves trucks. He is such a boy's boy, and he loves anything with wheels. I do however want to cut my own ears off when I buy him something that makes noise. It seems like such a good idea in the store; like the fire engine I bought the other day that had a real siren sound amongst other work related noises. It was a great idea in the store as he carried it around happily in the basket like a baby angel. Then, we got in the car, and the button was pushed time after time after time until we got home. I was in a fire emergency nightmare! It was awful!

On the same trip to Target, I bought him the Splish Splash Pool. It looked like so much fun, and who could resist the verbiage on the the box. It talked about how much fun your child will have riding the dolphin and sliding down the whales back, and if your child needs a break from the sun, well, he/she can just hang out under the rainbow for a break. It was to be a garden of Eden in my own back yard. I was going to sit there sipping a Mocktail in my adirondack chair as he played fancily in his little resort. He always goes apeshit for fountains, especially ones that you can stick your hands in. The Splish Splash pool was this and more; the entire perimeter was a fountain that filled up the pool with about 4 inches of glorious water.

Well, we blew it up which took at least 45 minutes and the use of our neighbor's air compressor. We set it up and brought him down. His eyes lit up when he saw it. He pointed and squealed as we got closer. He couldn't wait to get down! Then.......he just stood there about 4 feet away and pointed at it. He would point, then look at us, then point, then look back at us. My neighbor got in the pool in an attempt to entice him in, but he just stayed put. I couldn't stand it any longer, so I grabbed him and sent him sliding gleefully down the whale's back. Once he hit the water he screamed and dog paddled through the air!

He had that look of flight or fright (or whatever it is) on his face. He was basically pawing at the air for his life and crying so bad! I grabbed him, and that is when I realized the water was like ice! No one told me that the water from the hose is a good 57 degrees when it comes out. It's like spraying snow on someone! It sucks! Poor little guy hated his Splish Splash pool. It could have been so much fun, but I wouldn't even put my feet in it. I decided that the damn Splish Splash pool was good for only one thing.....icing a sports injury.

Like I said, you think you know what your kids will love, and sometimes you do, but sometimes it just couldn't be more of a waste of money. At least Pigpen is big enough to point to and play with things in the store that he likes. Sometimes we'll push a truck around the isles of the store for about 10 minutes and then leave it there for next time.....sometimes we buy it, and sometimes I let him slobber on the $1.99 plastic ice cream scoop at Homegoods so he won't lick the handle of the shopping cart, and then we get to the register and I tell the girl, "we're not going to get that one."

What? You mean you've never done that.....

The Smears

You may think, what are "the smears"? Well, I'll tell you. The smears are what happens to you when you are about to walk out the door. The smears are given by small beings under 3 feet tall. They are most prevalent in the winter time, but they can pop up in the summer time as well. I was "smeared" today as I was headed out the door for the gym.

I took a shower this morning, which is unheard of, but I had a playdate directly after the gym, so I needed to look and smell a bit more presentable than I normally do. We were about to head out the door for our day, and boom.....smear. I was wearing a pair of black Lululemon workout pants, and a black tank top. My sweet little Pig is getting his molars right now, so he has had a grody nose for about 2 weeks. It comes and goes, and this morning it was coming baby! He had the biggest two snot rockets of life, and he was headed straight for me at warp speed. Before I could stop him, he had his head buried in my legs about 3 inches below my crotchels, and he had both arms around my legs as he moved his head back and forth in a, "I love you so much mommy, and I'm so glad my face is clean" kind of way. It was great! Sweet, but not so sweet when I looked down at my pants. I had two smashed in yellow smears on my clean black pants. I wiped them off with a wet cloth, and then picked him up. (A paper towel is not recommended for a smear on black....it only makes it worse.) As soon as I did this, he sneezed like his Papa Pat and proceeded to get more smears on my black tank! At this point, I was completely smeared! I wondered if I was a contestant on Double Dare, or if I was filming an episode of, You Can't Do That on Television, but then I came back to earth.

With no time to change my clothes, I attacked the new smears with the same wet cloth. It did the trick....sortof. It always looks like you got it when it is wet, but they usually dry with a bit of evidence still visible. Smears are like a small badge of courage that you get for being a parent. Smears can appear virtually anywhere on the body, but tend to be the most prevalent in the upper thigh region, and the shoulder region. Like I mentioned before, smears are usually more frequent in the winter months. You can go to story time at the library and see moms walking around with faint smears on their shoulders and pant legs. It's a way to display the fact that you have someone in your house about two feet tall who loves you, and loves to show you that with a leg squeeze and a face rub. My little Pig could probably make the Guinness Book of World Records with his quick shoulder smears. I'm getting better at attacking them. This happens when the child has a dirty nose and decides to smear it onto your shoulder before you can get the tissue anywhere close to their face. I have developed certain Karate like moves to block these, but it doesn't work all the time. Sometimes he is just too fast.

So here's to all those mom's out there right now walking around with a sweet smear somewhere on your body, and here's a double props to those of your who don't even know about the big one on the back of your pants. Good job moms! Here's to us!

Kicked out of the Hyannis Yacht Club

My husband and I decided to go to the "Cape" this weekend. That's what all the New Englanders call Cape Cod. We had no idea where to go since the Cape is full of little towns with funny names like Falmouth, Hyannis, Sandwich, Mashpee......what!? I wanted to go to Sandwich since I'm pregnant, but then I remembered that the Kennedy's had their compound in Hyannis, so I voted for that town thinking it would be swank and fun.

We found a room at the Anchor-in. Don't let the name scare you....it was newly renovated and very nice. The hotel staff could not have been nicer or more helpful. The maid even let me commandeer some of her cleaning supplies for my changing pad......and we will get to why I needed those in a bit.

Our reason for going to the Cape was to get the boy on the beach! The real beach with actual waves......not just the small beach in our backyard. So we packed up and headed to the cape. I wore something breezy and summery for the drive. I got a cute new shirt at Madewell the other day for pennies. It was a flowy sleeveless off white top with yellow faceted plastic pieces embroidered on the front. Pigpen loves those! I wore that with some black linen capris, and my snakeskin gladiator sandals. That was a good idea until we hit traffic on the way out to the cape, and the air conditioner decided to pull it's usual, "I'm not going to blow cool air anymore", shit! I tried not to complain since my husband knows how I feel about the Volvo Wagon he bought from Craig's List, but the sun was beating in on my black linen pants and making me feel like I was in Hades. Between the stop and go traffic, the no AC, and turning around every five seconds to share a rice krispy treat with Pigpen......I was not feeling well at all. We stopped at a rest stop so my husband could pee, and I decided I would drive. It seemed like the traffic made everyone else have to relieve themselves as well. The line for the bathroom was out the the door and around the corner like a damn rock concert or something. I told him that I could hold it, and that he could wonder into the bushes. He did just that, and we were on our way.

Once we arrived we were pleasantly surprised by the hotel. I was expecting full-on Motel, but not so much, very nice indeed. We ate lunch on the Marina and then headed to the beach! Wah waaahhh, the beach was not what I expected. There were sharp shells everywhere, and seaweed galore! I asked my husband if it was the red tide, and he looked at me like I needed a Lobotomy. Pregnant people are to steer clear of the Red Tide....I read that somewhere I'm sure of it. We claimed a spot and set up our little chairs and put down Pigpens beach toys, and that little man headed straight for the water. He walked over all the sharp shells with his fat little baby feet like one of those crazy people who walk over hot coals. He wanted to get in the water immediately.....it was an emergency! The water was like ice, so he would get in and then get out, get in, get out, fall down, eat sand, eat seaweed, teeth would chatter......he loved it!

Daddy swam with the boy as mommy sat her pregnant bikini clad ass in the low to the ground camping chair, and thought, "am I really the whitest person here?" I watched a nearby mother of four shovel snack mix into her mouth like a professional eater.....it was amazing! She just put them in piece after piece in a matter of seconds, and barely held the bowl low enough for her daughter to partake. This went on for a good ten minutes until the bowl was completely empty. I ate my grapes that I had in my bag.

Once we decided it was time to go, we saw about 100 small sailboats returning from a Regatta Race, so my husband insisted that we walk to the end of the beach and watch the boats come in. He thought it would be educational for the boy, so we packed up our stuff and headed down; me with only my bikini and flip flops, and a, "I'm pregnant....that's why" attitude, and Pigpen perched on Daddy's shoulders...his favorite spot. As we were watching the boats come in one after the other I kept getting a whiff of a something awful. It was a terrible sour smell that was hard to place. I instinctively checked Pigpens diaper......I figured it would be clean since I could see the top of his butt crack as he rode on his daddy's shoulders. I peered in, and didn't see any stinky evidence. We got back in the car to head back and shower up for dinner, and that is when I smelled it again, and this time my husband could smell it too.

We got back to the room, and realized what it was. Pigpen did shit in his almost thong, way too small, swim diaper. He must have done it early on since there were only chunks left. All the liquid and water soluble things dissipated into the ocean....sorry fellow beach-goers. Oops! All that was left was some half eaten olives and black beans, oh and the stench.......the stench was on my husband's collar.........I loved it! :) After that, we all got cleaned up and walked into town for dinner. Oh wait, I just remembered that we swam in the hotel pool when we got home......sorry, hotel pool patrons. We really didn't know. Thank God olives and black beans weren't floating out of his thong swim diaper.

We rolled the stroller up to a restaurant called Columbos, and had the most fabulous meal. I even had one glass of Prosseco. The pig was asleep in his stroller with his Binky, piggy, and frog rag all snuggled up in his cashmere helicopter blanket that his YaYa gave him. Everyone commented on how sweet he was as they left......we were proud parents enjoying our mussels, beverages, and delicious food. There's nothing like a sleeping baby at a nice restaurant.

So the next morning we did what we always do. We got up, brushed our teeth, and made minimum effort for looks and headed to breakfast. I did at least have a Hermes scarf on my poofy bedhead hair, and maybe a brush of mascara and some under eye cream. We ate the hotel breakfast of yogurt, granola, and fresh berries, and then headed for a coffee shop. As we passed the ferry that was loading up people for Nantucket, we found a coffee shop and headed down for a morning stroll on the beach. Caramel Latte in hand and Pigpen happy in his stroller. He was still in his PJ top, some weird khaki pants that his daddy picked out, and a pageboy hat. We walked through the JFK Memorial, and headed down to the Hyannis Yacht club to watch the Regatta boats launch off of the beach. What fun! There were sooooo many boats! They were racing Lasers, 420's, and these small catamarans that completely hauled ass! It was so much fun to see all of the boats launch one after the other off of this small strip of beach.

Of course Pigpen was not supposed to get wet, but that didn't last for long. We decided to take his pants off completely, so he was running around in his PJ top, and Pageboy hat, and a diaper. I could just feel the Black Dog wearing Yacht Club parents looking at us like we had a redneck baby on their beach. He is 15 months old after all.....I mean, give me a break! He had a great time getting his diaper completely maxed out to full water holding capacity. I knew that it was going to weigh about 10 pounds when he was done. We stood on the beach for about 45 minutes as the boats launched and Pigpen ate more seaweed and probably a few rocks. Once we were ready to go I looked at his diaper and thought.....either that thing is dirty from the umteen crashes onto the ass he's done, or he has a yummy load in there. I told my husband that I suspected a surprise.

We decided to take him over to one of the beautiful teak benches that was accompanied by a beautiful flower pot of gorgeous flowers on each side. I think the bench may have been dedicated to someone important as well. I put down my changing pad and we layed him down. That's when the unexpected tsunami of chunky poo unleashed itself for all the Yachting passer bys to see. I screamed quietly and panicked. It wouldn't stop! It was just flowing like chunky orange lava out of the left side of his diaper! My husband stood him up, and we both got our feet as far from the Pig as possible. We took the diaper off while he was in a standing position, and tried to fold it up as carefully as possible! Pigpen was laughing, and of course trying to pull his wiener off as usual. At least he was standing still. The lifeguard was about 10 paces away, and I could see a look of disgust in his eyes as I looked up at him. I grabbed the changing pad and my coffee cup and headed for the water. I washed off the changing pad, and filled up the cup with water so I could try and wash off the bench and underneath the bench. It looked like someone threw up under the bench......it was a nightmare! We got Pigpen's shirt off and put him in a new diaper his ugly khaki pants and just his zip up hoody....no shirt. He was banished to his stroller as we tried to take care of the chunky puke under the bench. I looked up at the lifeguard stand again, and didn't see anyone. I was wondering if the young bronzed boy was going to get security, or going to throw up himself. It was horrible!!!!

So we learned a valuable lesson that I would like to pass on to other moms. Don't ever change a soggy wet diaper full of poo in a horizontal position. Just stand the boy up, and take it off that way......then, nobody gets hurt! Oh the horror! I'm sure we can never show our faces again down there. I'm sure Yacht club babies don't shit until they get home.

Tag Tucker

So, are you a tag tucker? What kind of person are you? Here's the scenario.....you are in close proximity with a perfect stranger, and you notice that her tag is sticking out of the back of her shirt. Do you tuck it in for her while telling her it was out? Do you look at your friend and say, "oh that poor lady's tag is out". Do you even notice?

Well, I notice, and I am a tag tucker. I know that I would be very appreciative if someone helped me out in that situation. My mom and I even told a lady that she had a lady problem on her pants once at Neiman Marcus. How horrifying, but we could not go on with our day without making her aware. It is hard to do for sure. It's uncomfortable, but usually the people are thankful for the news no matter how embarrassing. I find that usually women have a certain bond that makes it okay to look out for other woman. Well, that's what I think anyway....I'm sure that there are bitches out there that relish in other people's mishaps, but I try and distance myself from those people.

So here's what made me think of this. I was at Lululemon the other day, and as I walked in, I noticed one of the workers. She had on the tight bootcut workout pants, and she had the world's worst panty line! It was absolutely terrible! It was the worst panty line I have ever seen. It made her ass look long and just plain gross! She was a skinny girl, but it looked like she had on cheerleading bloomers that were about 2 sized too small. It did not look good or comfy, and it almost made me second guess trying on the same pants. For those of you who aren't familiar with lululemon, I'm sorry. Every girl should know about these workout pants. They are like magic for your ass......for your thong clad ass I guess. They are a little bit like super girl pants because when I put them on I immediately looked way skinnier, and my ass looked like it did in college. The pants were $98, but of course I bought them! They are reversible, so it's like getting two pairs in one, and well......they just looked so good. I tried them on immediately when I got home to make sure that they didn't have trick mirrors in the dressing room, and was pleasantly surprised!

It was like trying on my first pair of Seven for All Mankind jeans. It was magical! So, back to my point. If my pregnant butt looked so young, then it just goes to show that that young girl had no business wearing full on granny panties under her tight workout pants! It should be against the law, and why didn't her manager, or coworkers tell her? I wanted desperately to tell her that she should really wear a thong with her pants, but I was sure it would be offensive coming from a pregnant stranger, or would it? Should I have told her in the most secretive and helpful way that I could conjure up, or should I just leave it to her so called friends?

I would want someone to tell me.....stranger or no stranger! Please tell me if I'm doing something that is making me look ridiculous! I hate that I didn't say anything, because now I think of her saggy looking granny panty booty every time I wear my new pants. All she had to do was take them off, but I guess she will never know.......I hate that for her.

What would you do?

Shake Your Pregnant Money Maker

Can I just tell you how absolutely ridiculous I looked in my Zumba class today at the gym. For those of you who aren't familiar with Zumba it's a cardio class of Latin dance. Yes, we do the Salsa, Marenge, and we shake our hips and asses. My instructor is so adorable, and she can shake her hips and ass like Shakira.....it's crazy! I haven't been to Zumba in a really long time because I've been out of town and just busy on Thursdays, so today was my first day back since my belly has popped.

Luckily I do look a little more pregnant than fat.....just a tad. I think my bellybutton is the dead giveaway since it looks like the little red button on a Butterball turkey that is definitely done. So class starts out as usual, and we are facing the mirrors as usual. I have on some blue karate pants with white stripes down the side, and a coral tank top that is thankfully long enough. Over that I have a white Nike zip up with white satin stripes down the sleeves. It says, "yeah, I'm athletic, but I like to be a little sassy too." By the way, the Nike zip up is not zipped up because it looks like a damn half top when it is, so it is casually open. We finish our warmup dance of sidestepping and ass popping when I decide that the jacket has got to go. I throw it to the front of the class and continue with my jump up twice and them squat while rolling your hips and ass. A move that normally looks somewhat good and hip hopish, but now......with my big pregnant belly......it was a laughable joke! I looked like Amy Poehler in Baby Mama. It was horrible!

We did so many belly dancing/hip hop moves today......I just laughed at myself the whole time! All I could think of was the line from Steal Magnolias that described the new Mayor's wife dancing at the wedding. Clairee said, "Looks like two pigs fightin under a blanket." And.....the bellybutton sweat that adorned the middle of my tank top was really the icing on the cake! Can you imagine a girl who is almost 4 months pregnant dressed in my outfit, legs spread in a squat with feet facing out, getting low and rolling her belly and ass around??? Can you??? It's horrendous!!! My poor baby is probably wondering what the hell is going on out here!

Then, after I get through the Shakira belly dancing routine, we are going to practice the Hip Hop Hustle 5 dance. Oh this was going to be good. I only new the first half of the dance since I had been gone so long. Well, low and behold, a video camera comes out, and we are going to film the dance for You Tube! WTF!!! Are you kidding me? I don't even hardly remember the first half, and I don't even know the second half. This was going to be awesome! The instructor went over the second half in about 4 minutes, so I sort of got it, but not good enough for You Tube! I can't even imagine what I look like on camera doing the damn Hip Hop Hustle 5!!! My hair was a hot mess, and my belly.....well......I can't even explain it to you. I might attach it to this if it is absolutely hilarious! We shall see. Oy Vey and a half!

The Fatchelor

Soooo, you may be wondering what "The Fatchelor" is, so I will give you a hint. If you watch TV, and if you are somewhat in to reality shows, just think of a plus size version of a pretty popular one. Yes, I am talking about the stupid new show on ABC called More to Love. Are you kidding me!!!

Okay, so I totally can't take credit for the name(The Fatchelor), but you have to admit that it is pretty funny, and pretty dead on. My loving and always clever husband said it nonchalantly as he passed the TV set one night during the commercial for it. And, by the way, if you think the name is mean...it's not....it's what the damn show is......The Fat Bachelor. The whole point of even being remotely interested in that stupid mindless show (the real Bachelor) is because the guy's is supposed to "have it all": great personality, great sense of humor, great ass, and a killer job. This new guy might have that, but he also might have a "dickydo". I just feel bad for the whole show.....it's like the "B" team, the afterthought, the "oh let's give those people a chance" show. Have more respect for yourself!!!! Just say no to the "but she's got a great personality" show! I hate that they are doing this. It's not because the people are overweight, but it's how they are marketing it.

TV voice man says, "The average woman in America is size 14, and the average reality show TV contestant is a size 2......". Who cares! Don't they know the camera adds 10 pds.....it's totally true! I look like Orka on TV, and I'm a size 2-4, so those contestants look like a size 10, and what are the plus size ladies going to look like? Oy Vey! I watch Jillian, and I think she is absolutely adorable, but I know that in real life she probably looks emaciated and disgusting like someone in jungle prison.

And let's be honest, guys watch the original show to see hot ass chicks who are usually idiots bounce there jugs around the swimming pool, and girls watch the show to see some great hairless abs, and to find out if guys like that really aren't douchebags! It's great when it works out, but it hardly ever does, and it's just fun to watch. By the way, Jake, the Airline Pilot makes me vomit in my mouth a little every time I see him......bla!!

No one wants to see a fat sweaty dude in the fantasy suit with a large lady, I mean, maybe I should just say that I don't because I die for the hot people as it is. I get so embarrassed for them! I think the show is ridiculous! I think if skinny people want to go on TV and make asses of themselves in front of millions, go for it, but don't do it if you're overweight. It just opens up the door for the really mean and hateful people to make fun of you!! Is that what you want Fatchelor contestants? Have more respect for yourself, and find love the old fashion way.....on the Internet where you can post a picture of yourself 2- pounds ago!

What are your thoughts on this show? Do I sound like a total Bitch for thinking it is a waste of time and money? You can be honest.....I just was.

Break Out the Maternity Fashions

Yup, that's right blog readers, this Fashionista is totally knocked up! Most of you probably already know, and I've known since May. The thought of going through all of that craziness again has definitely had some time to sink in, and I am totally okay and excited with the idea now. Wait......let me pause for a moment as I grab my glasses.......yes, "eyesight shittiness" is one of the fabulous fun happenings of preggoville. Yes, I'm really into using correct medical terminology..."it's medical" you see.

So, here's how it happened......oh wait, that's too personal. Okay, here's how I found out. My mom was visiting from Texas, and we were antiqueing on our free day (the one day a week Pig goes to daycare). There was an incident in the car that involved an idiot driver, and some choice words from the fashionista. My mom gave me that, "could you be any bitchier and touchy" look. I looked at her and apologized for my short temper and then went on to explain how I was suffering from IBS, irritable bitchy syndrome. I had only had two periods since I had Pigpen. I never had any when i was nursing, so it was like I was in eighth grade all over again. I couldn't remember when I was supposed to start, and I couldn't believe how bitchy I got when I was about to start. I was all of a sudden a snooty little eye roller who would definitely mock you in silence when you turned your back after saying something that I didn't agree with. Oh yeah, I could just see myself turning into a hateful snooty snoot. So, my mom and I joked about my extreme case of IBS, and tried to make the best of it. Every time I would get frustrated with something I would say, "oh my God......here it comes.....IBS!!!" We would both laugh, and then she would politely let me get it all out of my system like a person with turrets.

We were going to take my neighbor out for dinner that night, and I was sooo excited about going to a nice restaurant where I could wear my new fabulous dress, some Christian Louboutins, carry a sassy little Chanel clutch, and drink a dirty Grey Goose martini with extra olives please. So excited about all of this until I consulted the fabulous Louis Vuitton planner that my parents gave me for Christmas. I was just curious to see when the IBS was going to stop, and I couldn't believe it! It should have already stopped.....it should have stopped about 2 weeks before that very day! Shit! Was I preggo? I had to know because I was really really really looking forward to drinking that cold Grey Goose Martini with extra olives please. Crap! We had about an hour until we were to leave, so I remembered that I had a pregnancy test left over from Pigpen, so a pregnancy test that was over a year old. I grabbed it, I sprinkled it, and I waited with baited breath. We all did. After 5 minutes the minus line was super dark, and the plus line was barely there. Not a super clear result, but enough for me to know that I wasn't going to have the damn drink that my mouth watered for. We decided to not tell my neighbor and be coy with our drink orders. I did order a glass of Champagne, and I made it last all night. I mean, the French drink a glass of Champagne everyday when they are pregnant, and they have beautiful svelte children that are really fashion forward, so I figured it wouldn't hurt.

The next morning I rushed out to the Grocery store for some staples and a preggo test. It's so ridiculous that I still feel like I'm buying something that I shouldn't be. It's like your first time to buy tampons or condoms. I mean come on, I'm married, I already have a baby, so why in the world would I feel the least bit scandalous buying a stupid pregnancy test? I don't know....I just know that I did. I got home ripped it open, and took both. Positive and positive! What!? I was supposed to go to Mexico with my husband and no baby in a few months. I was supposed to look badass in my bikini! I was planning on not wearing pants the whole time.....just bikini bottoms everywhere, well, except for when I sat down to eat, yuck! My abs were back, and i was going to drink anything with an umbrella and at least 4 Mexican beers a day! I was going to enjoy careless dinners ordering sushi and champagne without having to order a highchair and a paper napkin to clean up the mess under the highchair. How was I supposed to do any of that when I was preggo? I know it might sound selfish, but mommies need some decompression time too. I have given all of my time to this little guy, and I was supposed to be able to take a vacation and do whatever I wanted without having to worry about ANYTHING!

Then, when I got over the whole Mexico thing, I started to think about all of the fabulous things that happen to you when you're pregnant. The frequent urination, the bacne, the total halt on all delicious food and drink, and I don't even want to think about how my body morfed into an African Fertility statue.....oy veh! There were no stretchmarks, but there was carpel tunel, and numb fingertips for about 3 months. There was also the sleeplessness, the waking up in the middle of the night drenched and wondering if you peed the bed, or if you were just that hot...and if you were that hot, is that like getting in a hot tub or sauna while you're pregnant.....should you be concerned? Nah, just roll over and invade your husband's side. Oh what fun! Who doesn't love waking up 3 times in the night to pee? Who doesn't love that stage when you look like you have a beer gut instead of a baby? Who doesn't love that inevitable night out with the girls when you are obviously pregnant, and trying to shake your groove thing on the dance floor, and secretly cracking up at what you must look like! Oy veh I say, Oh freakin vey!

Well, I just got through the first trimester. No barfing, but definitely grody nausea at dinner time. Ramen noodle cravings, and almost tossing my cookies at the fish counter. It's all back! Oh yeah, and this time, I'm already showing. I went to Neiman's to spend my birthday money on a sassy little designer coverup for Mexico, and ended up just laughing at myself and doing the, "I look ridiculous in this" dance for my mom in the dressing room as Pigpen kept crawling on and off of the platform that the seamstress uses to hem your pants. I looked like a ate way too many tortillas....it was terrible! My bellybutton is already an "outy", and I won't even talk about the occasional gas......it's actually amazing how something could be soooo horrendous. It really could clear out an entire TJ Maxx. Thank God it's "occasional". I wouldn't know by the way....I've just heard.....you know from other pregnant ladies.

Oh the wonderment of Childbirth. Ha! I'll keep you all posted. :)

Shitty Floor

Never in my life did I think that I would be cleaning up human feces from my bedroom floor, but I can now cross that one off of the list of, "things I never thought would have to do." This list is getting quite full these days. I have now crossed off the following: Live in a house with a window unit, Live in a log cabin with no bathtub or Starbucks in sight, Wear sweatpants 45% of the week, Go without washing my hair for 5 days like a wilderness contestant. And, low and behold, I have now crossed off, "clean up human feces from the bedroom floor" off of my list.

Pigpen did have some really raunchy runs yesterday. All day long he would walk by and just reek of sewage! Poor little thing was just Hershey squirting in his pants all day long. Luckily we escaped this smelly business when we were at the Library for Story Time. Especially since he walked around like a sweet little social butterfly to all the moms and kids as I sat in my spot mentally kicking my own ass for wearing a short summer dress and my Hunter wellies to damn story time where you sit, stand, sit, stand, chase your child, act like a walrus. By far, not the best costume for the day. I will say that it was cute though. I was inspired by a parenting magazine I got last year. The girl on the front was wearing a short flowey cotton summer dress with a cute trench, long socks, and some fabulous wellies, so I decided to recreate my own version. Cute Navy blue cotton dress with ruffled cap sleeves, long green socks that had hot pink strawberries on them, and then my dark purple Hunter wellies; all topped off with a empire waisted summer trench. Soooo cute, until you have to sit on the floor with your child at story time. Dammit! I'm sure the other mother's have there own opinions of me. At least my kid is cute and sweet and he smiles at everyone. At one point, all the kids were in their mother's laps, but Pigpen was in the middle of the circle swaying back and forth to the band in his head and smiling like a sweet little baby angel. I was sitting off to the side with a proud smile and no child in my lap, just my trench.

After story time, we headed to a nice restaurant for a hamburger and fries. He was surprisingly good there too. I am thankful that he waited until we got home to blow ass. That night we went to our neighbors for dinner since my husband is in Germany yet again. Okay, here's the part wear I tell you if you are a killer or murderer reading my blog. Don't get any ideas! I lock the doors, booby trap the house, set the alarm, and sleep with bear mace and a double barrel shotgun within reach, so don't even think about bothering us. I am the daughter of an ex DPS officer from Texas who was a member of the National Pistol Team, and yes, when I was 6 all I wanted for my birthday was a Red Rider BB Gun, so the message here is, Don't fuck with this fashionista. Okay, now that we have that out of the way......oh wait, I forgot to mention that my neighbors love me and the man never sleeps. He once shot a man's dog for messing with their chickens, so don't think they won't open a bottle of New England Country Time WHOOP ASS on you if you try and infiltrate our sweet little cove. Whew! That was for you mom.

So we ate dinner at the neighbors, and took them up on their, "you can bathe the baby over here," offer. I went back to the house to change Pigpen's runny pants, and get all of his bath stuff together. He had just pooped and peed, so I decided to just put him in his little Frette robe with no diaper. I mean, what are the chances of him pooping again? Well, they were better than I thought! I was changing out of my cute little dress and into sweatpants as I looked over at the Pig. He was having a great time in his sweet little robe. He was rearranging all of my Uggs. While he was playing with some of my favorite footwear, I noticed something on the back of his leg. I looked closer and was absolutely horrified!!!!! It was shit! And then, before I could get to him, I saw a big pile of it fall out from under the Frette robe onto the floor!!! It was now on his leg and on the floor in a little steaming pile....just like a cow! I screamed and then looked at my UGGS. They looked safe, so I scooped him up and carried him carefully over to the changing table. The robe came out unscathed, but my arm did not fare so well, and the changing pad was doomed for sure. There was shit everywhere!!!

I cleaned him up and then put him in his crib so I could go into the room and tend to the steaming pile of doo. I grabbed some toilet paper and flushed the nastiness, and then disinfected the area with some Lysol. I feel like it still smells like crap! Thank God my Uggs survived. I think I would die if I had to clean shit off of my light sand colored favorite cozy boots. Who gets to clean crap off of the bedroom floor? Oh wait! I do.

Heart Attack

So, I am back home in the cozy cabin, and my baby angel was driven down by his fabulous Grandparents! The reunion was better than expected. I expected a sweet smile, but I thought he would immediately be interested in something else on the ground after about 3 seconds in my arms. Delightfully surprised, I was impressed with his big smile and sweet hug. He was interested in me for almost a whole minute! He got longer, and he walks so much faster, and his little baby vocabulary of weird sounds has expanded into even more weird sounds.

My mother-in-law is here with her husband, and we have been having a really wonderful time just enjoying the backyard and the sweet little boy. He is now 13 months old, and quite the little explorer! About an hour ago I put him up in his crib for a nap since he was zoning out at lunch. I have a video monitor, so we were sitting at the table having a latte and enjoying some adult conversation as we checked the monitor every so often. He was ooching around, standing up, and doing the usual before he sacks out, so it was just a normal day of naptime woes. So we were talking about something very important I'm sure as I felt a compeling need to check on the Pig. I grabbed the monitor that was just about out of battery, turned it on, and gasped! I ran out of the room and up the stairs without a word as fast as I could. I was like Jackie Joner Cursy as I hurdled the baby gate and shot up the stairs skipping about six stairs at a time.

His grandmother grabbed the monitor to view the horror, but was unable to see anything since the battery was completely dead at that point. When I got to the top of the stairs the horrible seen was still as I had seen it! That little Assafartus was sitting on his changing table!!!!! His changing table sits right next to his crib, so he had figured out a way to crawl out of his crib and sit on his changing table that has no rails and no protection against the hardwood floor. I wanted to die!!!

I was shocked, but very impressed at the same time! I didn't know if I should give him a swat, or applaud his new skill. I told him he was a very bad boy, and that this was not allowed at all!!! I don't know if it made an impression. He wenced a little after the scolding, but then just smiled and laid there as I changed his diaper with a big dissapointed look on my face. The Grandparents were upstairs at this point and very happy to see that he had not strangled himself with the cookoo clock strings that hang on the wall fairly close to the crib. He was unscathed by the incident and continued his usual routine of trying to pull his little weiner off of his body as I changed his pants.

I have not been able to get in touch with his father for a report, but I imagine his father will be way more impressed than mad. I guess we will have to do some redecorated tonight when daddy gets home.

The Vaca

The vaca is winding down and coming to an end. I am spending the last morning on the balcony with my computer while my husband makes us another pot of coffee. It's not quite 7:30 am here, and we have already gone down, watched the sun rise, and played 9 holes of championship put put. I beat the pants off of him, and I will expect to get a winner's shoulder rub later from the loser himself. I won 7 of the 9 holes. :)

Our vacation has been the ultimate in relaxation. Something that we both desperately needed. It was so wonderful to just sit and read a book. I haven't done that since I was pregnant with Pig, and even then the only book I was reading was, Your Pregnancy Week by Week. A riveting read yes, but it was no F. Scott Fitzgerald. Our days in Mexico were spent mostly at the resort. We would wake up early and watch the sunrise on the beach somewhere with our little to-go coffee cups from the room, then we would come up and sit on the balcony until breakfast was to be served. One of the days I visited the spa, we ordered breakfast to our room and ate it on the balcony from the fabulous room service table that was wheeled in donned with a beautiful display fresh fruit and two Hot American Breakfasts. I love hanging the room service menu on the door......it might be one of my favorite things in the world. You order a delicious breakfast, you choose the time you would like it wheeled into your room, and then you fall asleep only to wake up to a, "knock knock knock, rrroom service." It's heaven!

I will miss our Luncheon Nachos that we took part in every day. We would eat at the beachside restaurant and order a heaping plate of delicious nachos piled high with juicy jalapenos and accompanied by a pina colada to cool things down. The restaurant would always serve a small dallup of frozen sorbet when you were finished with your meal. So scrumptious! Our nights were spent in wonderful restaurants eating great food and always looking at the main attraction.....the Pacific. After dinner we would find a chair on the beach and eat a Lindt chocolate bar while we looked at the stars and listened to the Ocean. Such a great time.

Of course, we checked on the Pig daily and relished in the wonderful reports. One day he got to play in the back yard on the deflated kiddy pool that was more like a slip and slide. He didn't get to just play on it, but he got to play on it completely naked! He hasn't had his Robeez on since he has been there. He went to Market on Saturday with Grandma and Grandpa and got his picture taken with Mr. Kesler behind the meat counter. He played with his 3 year old cousin Ally who I'm certain wore him out, and he hasn't had his binky in about 36 hours. He supposedly had so much blueberry compote the other morning with his heart shaped pancakes that his hands were stained blue for a good part of the day....his ears were also the wonderful shade. He supposedly looked perky and inquisitive when he heard my voice on the phone and when he looked at pictures of my husband and I. I can't wait to see him!!! I hope he gives me the biggest hug and the biggest open mouth slobber kiss ever!

Vacation is over, but I do get to ride on the plane with just my husband, and I get to see my sweet little baby angel tomorrow. What a great thing to come home to!