No sugar tonight or any night or ever. Sugar in coffee is disgusting. In fact, there is no better way to ruin my day than to put sugar in a perfectly good cup o' joe. Or urinate in it, I guess.
I'm not listening to that song right now, by the way. The incredibly bulky-yet-useful iTunes decided to play 'Roadhouse Blues' by The Doors first. Gooooooo, Doors!! Incidentally, I'm now nearly three years older than most classic rockers who died traumatically. The average age was 27. In fact, Jim Morrisson, Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin all died at the ripe ol' age of 27. It's a bad age to be a strung out rock star, apparently.
It's 2:40pm on my second full day of SAHMdom. Life is grand, my peeps. Amazingly grand. I feel like the weight of two elephants (or roughly 1 1/2 pregnant Mavens) has been lifted off my shoulders. I have no strict schedule to adhere to. I wake up when my children need me to. I can stay up a little while later at night without worry that I will have a Daycare Parent pouding furiously at my door (not to be confused with 'pounding furiously with my door'. I swear, if I ever find someone pounding my door, I'm going to cheer them on and take some video footage to sell to a fetish site. Another great way to supplement our household income!)
I woke up this morning and I got myself a beer... Oops, sorry. Runaway lyrics. We woke up this morning and went to visit Mrs. Wailing and her children, Wailing Jr. and Baby Wailing. A big shout out to Wailing Jr. as it's his third birthday today! Happy birthday, buddy! Thank you for letting Intrepid and Gutsy flood your backyard with water in this awful heatwave we're having. Thank you for giving us copious amounts of watermelon and telling me Thomas the Tank Engine stories. Also, a big thanks to Baby Wailing for waiting patiently until I could be there before rolling over back-to-front for the first time. Also, it was nice to puke on me to get me used to curdled, breastmilk spit-up again. I needed the reminder of how lovely it smells after being in an infant's stomach for an hour.
Gutsy is currently running around the house in the buff, playing with a pen that also acts as a rocket (complete with launcher). I hope he remembers what The Maven always says: It's all fun and games until someone loses a testicle. Play safely, kids.
Intrepid is playing a computer game that he wasn't allowed to play when Daycare Boy was here. I don't mind exposing my own preschooler to PS2 violence, but not someone else's - especially when they're paying me. He was smitten with Baby Wailing this morning. I'm guessing he's going to have about 8 children with his non-platonic life partner (N-PLP) when the time comes.
I'm going to watch a rerun of Dr. Phil in a minute. I like watching him tell off other people for their stupid choices. It makes me feel a lot better about my own stupid choices, because at least I'm not being berated on television for it. I must confess that I'm not a huge Robin fan, though. What is it with all these people praising Robin for being such a good wife? Have you seen her teeth? Dude, that cost some cold hard cash. I'd sit and smile in the audience and read poorly from a teleprompter for yearly Christmas specials if it meant I could get my teeth to look like that. But she bugs me... I can't put my finger on it. She reminds me of that woman at a scrapbooking party who talks trash behind your back and offers you a cheddar bite off her beautiful serving platter to your face. I think she'd rather be out with her friends, but since her husband has scared all of them away she has to sit in the audience and listen to his grandiose speeches.
But she does have nice teeth. Robin: 1. The Maven: 0 and a bad karma for being a horribly judgemental person about someone she doesn't even know.
On the 'Celebrities Who's Food I'd Like to Spit in' list, I'd also have to add in Paris Hilton. Paris: You are scary looking. Yet you can basically do anything you set your mind to: modelling, television and now singing.
I'm also somewhat scary looking, but there's one big difference: I'm not an heiress. Hmph. No perfume line for me.
I suppose I should post some pictures soon. Maybe I'll do that later. Right now, I've missed the first four minutes of the Dr. Phil show. That means I've missed the clip for the biggest guest story they have on today. Damnit! I'll catch it later. Thank you, satellite.
Gutsy is still naked and Intrepid and is now off the PS2 and showing me how he can run on his hands. Who says being a stay-at-home-mom is dull?
I'm not listening to that song right now, by the way. The incredibly bulky-yet-useful iTunes decided to play 'Roadhouse Blues' by The Doors first. Gooooooo, Doors!! Incidentally, I'm now nearly three years older than most classic rockers who died traumatically. The average age was 27. In fact, Jim Morrisson, Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin all died at the ripe ol' age of 27. It's a bad age to be a strung out rock star, apparently.
It's 2:40pm on my second full day of SAHMdom. Life is grand, my peeps. Amazingly grand. I feel like the weight of two elephants (or roughly 1 1/2 pregnant Mavens) has been lifted off my shoulders. I have no strict schedule to adhere to. I wake up when my children need me to. I can stay up a little while later at night without worry that I will have a Daycare Parent pouding furiously at my door (not to be confused with 'pounding furiously with my door'. I swear, if I ever find someone pounding my door, I'm going to cheer them on and take some video footage to sell to a fetish site. Another great way to supplement our household income!)
I woke up this morning and I got myself a beer... Oops, sorry. Runaway lyrics. We woke up this morning and went to visit Mrs. Wailing and her children, Wailing Jr. and Baby Wailing. A big shout out to Wailing Jr. as it's his third birthday today! Happy birthday, buddy! Thank you for letting Intrepid and Gutsy flood your backyard with water in this awful heatwave we're having. Thank you for giving us copious amounts of watermelon and telling me Thomas the Tank Engine stories. Also, a big thanks to Baby Wailing for waiting patiently until I could be there before rolling over back-to-front for the first time. Also, it was nice to puke on me to get me used to curdled, breastmilk spit-up again. I needed the reminder of how lovely it smells after being in an infant's stomach for an hour.
Gutsy is currently running around the house in the buff, playing with a pen that also acts as a rocket (complete with launcher). I hope he remembers what The Maven always says: It's all fun and games until someone loses a testicle. Play safely, kids.
Intrepid is playing a computer game that he wasn't allowed to play when Daycare Boy was here. I don't mind exposing my own preschooler to PS2 violence, but not someone else's - especially when they're paying me. He was smitten with Baby Wailing this morning. I'm guessing he's going to have about 8 children with his non-platonic life partner (N-PLP) when the time comes.
I'm going to watch a rerun of Dr. Phil in a minute. I like watching him tell off other people for their stupid choices. It makes me feel a lot better about my own stupid choices, because at least I'm not being berated on television for it. I must confess that I'm not a huge Robin fan, though. What is it with all these people praising Robin for being such a good wife? Have you seen her teeth? Dude, that cost some cold hard cash. I'd sit and smile in the audience and read poorly from a teleprompter for yearly Christmas specials if it meant I could get my teeth to look like that. But she bugs me... I can't put my finger on it. She reminds me of that woman at a scrapbooking party who talks trash behind your back and offers you a cheddar bite off her beautiful serving platter to your face. I think she'd rather be out with her friends, but since her husband has scared all of them away she has to sit in the audience and listen to his grandiose speeches.
But she does have nice teeth. Robin: 1. The Maven: 0 and a bad karma for being a horribly judgemental person about someone she doesn't even know.
On the 'Celebrities Who's Food I'd Like to Spit in' list, I'd also have to add in Paris Hilton. Paris: You are scary looking. Yet you can basically do anything you set your mind to: modelling, television and now singing.
I'm also somewhat scary looking, but there's one big difference: I'm not an heiress. Hmph. No perfume line for me.
I suppose I should post some pictures soon. Maybe I'll do that later. Right now, I've missed the first four minutes of the Dr. Phil show. That means I've missed the clip for the biggest guest story they have on today. Damnit! I'll catch it later. Thank you, satellite.
Gutsy is still naked and Intrepid and is now off the PS2 and showing me how he can run on his hands. Who says being a stay-at-home-mom is dull?