Holly, our 4-legged daughter, has been eating these fabulous treats. They are the only ones she eats and doesn't bury. I just gave her the last one so I looked to see exactly what they are so I can make a mental note and buy the same thing next time I'm out. Flipping the bag over I see the ingredients are something it looks like Snoop Dogg made up.
I thought, "Wow, that's odd. I've never heard of that before." So I snuggled down onto the livingroom floor next to Holly, gnawing on her bull pizzle, and grabbed my laptop to google it. I found this: Pizzles are almost exclusively used/produced today as chewing treats for dogs.They are a fibrous muscle, and are prepared by cleaning, stretching, twisting and then drying. The word is used today to signify the penis of an animal.
I didn't know what a pizzle was and I certainly had no idea that Holly was eating a dried bull penis every time I gave her one of those treats. Good Lord.
The bonus? William now has a new word for his penis. Terrific.
1. I LOVE Drew's school for doing programs like this. Her teacher works hard, as do all the other 1st grade teachers, to put on these culminating events. Today was a President's Day/patriotic theme. They sang, performed the Pledge of Allegiance in sign language, and recited all the presidents in order.
2. Drew is so grown up and absolutely not a little girl anymore. (She is off to the left there in the picture holding the flag).
3. She will always be the tree in the school play, the rebounder on the basketball court, the one in the too-short pants, annnnnd the flag holder. I was too. It comes with being the tallest. An honorable position, if you ask me...
KLM airlines now allows you to choose your seatmate on a flight based on their facebook or Linkedin profile. It's only on select flights but can you see if this catches on? Apparently you can't deny someone who chooses to sit next to you but you can move seats.
I would be giving everyone the stink eye because I would assume they'd chosen to move from me and I'd be all socially awkward sitting next to the person I was because I would think that for some reason I was their chosen one. It's a complete lose/lose.
* This post has been viewed more than 100 times today and not one person had the balls to tell me I misspelled 'premiere' in the subject line? What's up? I've changed it now but c'mon. Call me out if you see something like that!
This is somewhat childish but I wanted to post it anyway. I love Zac Efron in every possible way. And the fact that this happened on the red carpet of a Dr. Seuss movie that is rated G makes it even more funny.
No matter how conscience I am of what I'm putting into my body (or not), no matter how often and hard I'm working out (or not), I will not and cannot give up my coffee. It's non-negotiable. I'll sacrifice everything else. It's my drug, it's as simple as that.
I like it black, with cream, with chocolate, with peppermint - I'm really not all that picky. I do not use my coffee as a vehicle for other crap, though. I love coffee for coffee. BUT, when I do add something to it, if given the choice, I'd like for it to be more healthy than not.
Have you tried this? I realize it's not on anyone's SUPER HEALTHY list but it's better than the other stuff I was using, the normal vanilla Coffeemate creamer. And this tastes almost exactly the same. I've found it's a little sweeter so I'm not as liberal with it but it's what I'll be buying from now on. If you feel me on the coffee thing and you use fake creamer like I do, try this. It's a much better alternative.
The ingredients are milk, cream, sugar, and natural flavor. The ingredients in the original blue bottle are lengthy and most are hypenated. That's never good.
I had the best morning. I laid in bed while I listened to Chris hustle all the kids out of their pajamas and into mismatched clothes. I listened to the process of socks, sneakers, teeth, and hair. I silently wondered if I sound that way as I hustle them every morning. I never would have said a word, he was doing a great job, as he always does, but it was enjoyable listening to how it all went down. The best part - other than the fact that I was still in bed - was that Chris isn't quite as fluent in LaurenSpeak as I am. When she's not heard she gets frustrated which quickly turns into whining. She was saying what sounded like, "The zima ma fut! The zima ma fut!" Chris guessed every possible possibility except the right one. I was giggling under the covers because it was so clear as to what she was saying. She got pissed that he couldn't understand and he got pissed that she got pissed. Awesome.
I shouldn't have laughed because it ended up that by the time she got to the car she was in a puddle of tears and he was at the end of his rope. I heard the crying get louder as he walked her back to the front door. I heard the front door open and heard him say, "Here, you stay here with mommy. It's better for everyone this way. I'll bring you home a donut."
So. My quiet extra hour of sleep this morning is no more. All because I laid in bed and giggled instead of saying to Lauren, "Come here. I'll help you fix the seam on your foot." See, Chris? The seam on her sock was bothering her. Duh.
It's too bad the UN doesn't need a toddler speak interpreter. I'd kill it.
If you have young kids you've heard people say to you, "Oh, it goes by so quickly. Before you know it they'll be moving out." If you have not-so-young kids you may have even said those words to another mom. In fact, I just said to my friend Becky (who has the cutest 16 month old ever) that I miss that age so much. And I DO. But... I feel like maybe for the first time in 7 years and 8 days that I'm in a place of "let's move on".
I'm one who grieves birthdays because it means the kids are a year older. I curse milestones because it means they are growing up. I think finally I'm good, though. I'm good with all of this stuff. Lauren will be three in just a couple weeks. I'll then have a 3, 5, and 7 year old. I cherish all the days more than I bitch about them (believe that? It's true!). But I'm ready to move on with the stage we're in and am ready to get into the next one. And the next one. And then the next one. Since I've discovered after years of wishing to go back that it's not going to happen, let's get to enjoying this one and moving on to the next one.
Maybe it's because this is the fighting stage. Maybe it's because this is the "she has more than I do" stage. Maybe it's because this is the "we have to get home for naptime" stage. Maybe it's because this is the "I want this for dinner, wait! No, I don't want to eat this" stage. I don't know. Whatever it is, it's kinda nice not being so desperate turn back the clock or keep things the same. Let's keep it movin'...
No matter what the phase, this will always be me. Only instead of reading a magazine I'm likely trying to avoid laundry by doing something else or trying to nap.
Soooo, this may not be suitable for work. Or for your kids to see. There's your warning.
This is... weird. That's my opinion, obviously, but I think this is crazy, ridiculously weird. There is no need on this earth for any kind of product like this. Either you wear nothing or you have a little string tan line on each of your boney little hips. This is just... weird. AmIright?
In case you aren't in the know, this is called a C-string. Its purpose is so women can avoid tan lines and panty lines. Really? Why wear anything at all? Honestly having a wire-like string thing in your behind seems like a horrible alternative to wearing nothing at all.
I won't get all sappy or detaily about the fact that Drew is turning 7 tomorrow. The little joyful infant girl who made me a mommy is now a toothless (again) young lady who is becoming a lot like me. Good? Bad? Depends on whom you ask, I suppose. ANYWAYZ...
Tomorrow I'm bringing snack to her class, a special birthday snack. Only her fabulous school doesn't allow anything that's not healthy. WHA?! I can bake my head off but I can't bake anything that's healthy. I just can't. Or won't.
I had seen this on Pinterest and then my friend Melissa made these for her son's class and they were as cute as anything so I thought I'd make them, too.
How's this for a special birthday healthy snack?
Goofy robot guys!
I hope the kids like them because I burned the skin off my left thumb FOUR different times, in FOUR different places with the hot glue gun. For realz.
Oh, and about her birthday being tomorrow. You all know what that means, right?
We're going on our 10 year anniversary/Honeymoon trip in about 7 weeks. The likelihood of losing 40 pounds in 7 weeks? None. My intentions were there, I've worked hard. Between age, 3 kids, and the Lupus meds I take, I underestimated how slowly my great transformation would be. Apparently 11 pounds in 6 months is what happens when you're an old lady, I don't know. Anyway, I'm working hard on sticking with good habits but that's all I can commit to I guess. I'm going to go to the Dominican Republic like I'm a model. I'm going to walk in my black booby bathing suit and no sarong. I will not feel as if I need to apologize to every person I walk past. That's my goal, anyway. I just want to enjoy my time there while giving no thought to my girth.
This, my friends, has helped.
Thanks to a "make me old" app on my phone, I have a glimpse into the future of what I'll look like. How stupid is it to waste these last semi-wrinkle free years with worries about something that is really not that big of a deal?
And just for shits and giggles, I made Chris old, too.
He hardly looks any different. Figures.
Oh, and I did Drew, too. What gets me about this is she has no front teeth. Hopefully it's not foreshadowing.
Ok, so enough with the old faces. Just goes to show that if it's not one thing it's another. Forget about it and love who you are and love your life. Oh, and if you happen to be on a beach in Punta Cana on April 2, I'm not sorry.
According to eMarketer, the number of blog readers in the US reached 122.6 million in 2011, representing 53.5% of internet users.
Though the blog audience will continue to grow, social networks and microblogs have in recent years nudged blogging off the social media pedestal. For some consumers, who have more communication tools at their fingertips than they did a few years ago, Facebook and Twitter have supplanted blogging as life-streaming outlets.
What's it mean? Meh, it doesn't really matter. But I don't want Facebook to supplant (big word!) my blogging. I want them to complement each other.
William. I have lots of thoughts I want to share about him and I want to ask YOU about any suggestions you may have but my time to post this blog blurb is limited. I did want to share this, though. My sweet, sweet boy is becoming like Holly (our dog). He's beginning to dig and chew when bored. You feel me? While at the teacher store this morning looking for things for my blossoming learner (Lauren), I saw these dice. I bought them and we played three rounds of this simple, simple game I made up after lunch today while Lauren napped. It was just enough to feed his head for the moment. He's currently watching Looney Tunes and will be done with that activity very soon and we'll have to do something else to feed his brain, again.
The dice game, William has called it Sucker Dice because if you lose you are a sucker, is great because Drew and William can play it together with no help from MEEEEEE.
You can probably tell how it goes just by looking at our score card. 10 rolls each, take turns. Write down (have your child write down) the answers to the math problem that you roll. Keep a tally (have your child keep a running tally) and the person after 10 rolls with the most points wins! See? Keepin' it simple. The math aspect of it is awesome, especially for someone William's age.
Superbowl Sunday is Seventh Birthday Party Sunday for us. I didn't know it was the day of the Superbowl when I picked her party date, I just knew that Chris was home from the firehouse. To me that was all that mattered. Ooops. Oh, well.
This afternoon, while the rest of you are eating nachos and drinkin' beer, I'll be with a handful of 7 year olds ice skating (or trying to) and eating vanilla cupcakes.
Don't get me wrong, though. The DVR is set. I just can't imagine missing the commercials.
I don't want to be asked any questions about "how did the baby get there?" any sooner than I have to and I think this begs the question.
Her face is not fat.
Her arms are not fat.
Her boobs are up high.
If she was fat, scowling, and had a hefty underwire bra on to keep her boobs where God intended them to be then maybe I'd consider buying it. But this is so totally fake I just can't support it. Oh, and because it's creepy.
Here's a math problem for you on this lovely Thursday morning.
5 year old boy + DS addiction + bad attitude + mom who takes away electronics + sister who still gets to play electronics + other sister who snickers at 5 year old boy from afar + 5 year old boy who is becoming literate = ???
Stumped? Okay, I'll give it to you. Here's the correct answer:
A morning love letter telling his sisters how he feels. And in case you don't read 5yearold, it says, "I hate you guys."
On the flip side! Drew wrote me a little love note on my car window this morning:
Why? I mean, it's just a picture of a grandmother and her grandson/father of her great-grandchild/father of her child.
WHAT? Read on:
Pearl Carter, 72, says she has never been happier after beginning an incestuous relationship with her 26-year-old grandchild Phil Bailey. The pensioner, from Indiana, US, is using her pension to pay a surrogate mother so they can have a child, reports New Zealand's New Idea magazine. She said: "I'm not interested in anyone else's opinion. I am in love with Phil and he's in love with me. "Soon I'll be holding my son or daughter in my arms and Phil will be the proud dad." Her lover is the son of Pearl's daughter Lynette Bailey - who she put up for adoption when she was 18-years-old. When his mother passed away, Phil tracked down his long lost grandmother and they quickly fell in love. Pearl told New Idea magazine: "From the first moment that I saw him, I knew we would never have a grandmother-grandson relationship. "For the first time in years I felt sexually alive." It was during their second week together, after dinner and wine, that Pearl made her move. "I called Phil into my bedroom, sat him on the bed, and then I leant over and kissed him," she added. "I expected rejection but instead he kissed me back." Phil revealed: "I wanted to kiss her there and then. My feelings were overwhelming. "I love Pearl with all my heart. I've always been attracted to older women and I think Pearl is gorgeous. Now I'm going to be a dad and I can't wait. "Yes, we get laughed at and bullied when we go out and kiss in public but we don't care. You can't help who you fall for." The pair paid $54,000 to find a surrogate mother and buy a donor egg to inseminate with Phil's sperm. They placed an advert asking for an open-minded surrogate, and Roxanne Campbell applied.
"Initially I was shocked," says Roxanne, 30. "But they're a brilliant pair and I saw how much they loved each other. I know the baby will be loved too." Pearl said: "I am finally going to be a mum and not forced to give up my child. Phil's going to be a great dad.
"I never in a million years thought at 72 I'd be 'pregnant' and in love with my grandson.
"I make no apologies and I believe God's given me a second chance."
I'm all about freedom of choice when it comes to who you want to love but... What the HELL?