I can't eat soup without dribbling on my chin
I can’t say “tea bag” without giggling. I’ve never partaken in any form of tea bagging except the kind that actually yields tea. I have a Betty Boop mole on my right boob. I learned Spanish five years before I learned English. All things British move me sexually. All things French move my soul. I scored high enough on the French AP test that I didn’t have to...
The best thing about the Fibtbit is that it will count all your steps. Even the ones you take while leisurely eating an ice cream sandwich.
In the end these things matter most: How well did you love? How fully did you...– Siddhārtha Gautama (via themarke (via ronmanblog)
Whenever someone tells me they will drink me under the table I have a mental flash of them slipping under the table at a very stuffy dinner party and crawling on their hands and knees to where I sit making polite conversation with the queen of England. And then they drink me like a fine champagne and it’s all very sexy and the queen never even bats an eye.
Ken: These pancakes are really good! Me: I am amazing. Ken: Where’d you get the recipe? Me: The pancake mix box.
Hi my name is Claudia and I am strung higher than a hippie at a Phish concert. Oh yeah and the kid can crawl now. When he’s not face planting.
Google says, “Follow this link for naked Colin Firth pics!” and I’m all, “Nuh-uh Google, what do you take me for?” but the frosted side of me is all, “I want to believe!” and that’s how I ended up with a gazillion porn windows flowering on my computer screen all at once thank you the end.
Every time someone unfollows me for posting a picture of my kid, I wish ten kids upon them. I have my endoscopy today. I have to stop eating at 6 am and I’m not allowed to eat or drink anything until it’s over. So yes, I am currently inhaling the contents of my refrigerator. Did you know whipped cream is still good 6 months past its expiration date? I’m thinking I can...
Being a mother is an exercise in ambivalence
You want them to grow up so they can start wiping their own ass, but you want them to stay small so you can protect them. You want them to nap so you can have some peace, but you want them to be awake so you can hold them and cuddle them and kiss them You want them to sit on their own so they can sit in the shopping cart when you go to the grocery store, but as the moment draws near, you begin...
I finally got Ken to watch “Sherlock” (the amazeballs British series not that Robert Downey, Jr. business) and he keeps getting up to go to the kitchen and stuff and he’s missing all the clever parts and I think I’m going to have to cut him. I finally watched Tinker, Tailor, etc. I have confusions. Overall I’m just left with the overwhelming desire to touch Colin...
I see your pictures and my heart aches to be with you. Please give yourself a big old hug right now and pretend it’s from me. Go on. DO IT! Except you, Bridget. You give yourself a big sloppy french kiss. I love you interfolk!! Big heartfelt sigh…
Me: I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. I lift my lids and all is born again. I think I made you up inside my head. Ken: What is that? That’s not Dr. Seuss. Me: Sylvia Plath. Ken: You’re reciting Sylvia Plath? Me: Yes. Ken: To our 6 month old? Me: Yes. Ken: …carry on.
It’s not just that he does the funniest shit, it’s that he’s mine and he does the funniest shit
A thing I love
When the kid pops off the boob just to shoot me a smile, then goes on about his business.
Wiping my kid's snot with my shirt because...
I also lick napkins to clean his face.
Truthful Tuesday? Right? It's Tuesday I think?
Today was the first day since having B that I actually found myself WANTING a second child instead of seeing it as something I’d have to grit my teeth and get through. I might even want a third…
Me: I’m having a brain blank. What’s the past tense of thrust? Ken: Hmm. He “thrusted” into her. He “thrust” into her. I think it’s “threw”. He threw his thing in her.
Something that absolutely delighted me and also...
I’m so incredibly sick. So after putting the kiddo down for the night, Ken came to hang out with me on my sick bed for a while. After my fourth or fifth yawn, he stood and said, “My poor baby. You need your rest, and here I am Salieri-ing you.” We fit like puzzle pieces. I can’t think of anything that would have made me laugh more. And the fact that he came up with that...
It’s not that I don’t care what I look like. But I’m out of tissues, so I have to load B in his stroller and walk across the street to the gas station to buy some. And I can’t send Ken because he’s off playing basketball instead of staying home and taking care of me because I’m a “good wife” who didn’t want to say, “Stay home and take...
- I am the sickest I’ve been in years. Apparently you can’t call in sick to parenting though. LAME! Ken made me some tea but neglected to tell me it was Tazo’s Awake tea and now I can’t fall asleep. LAMER! I can’t take anything because I’m nursing and I seriously feel like just lying here and moaning quietly. LAMEST! - I tried to feed B sweet potato and he...
Me: It’s official. I have a sinus infection. Ken: Oh no! It was probably the change in the weather. Me: Or germs. Ken: Yes! Those damn Germans! Me: I said germs! Ken: Oh. Schnitzel…
Her silent, watchful eyes silently watched him go.– Actual sentence I came across while proofreading my novel, which leads me to believe I like to write when I’m high
What's Wrong With *The Hunger Games* Is What No... →
The Hunger Games has this same feminist problem. Other than the initial volunteering to replace her younger sister, Katniss never makes any decisions of her own, never acts with consequence— but her life is constructed to appear that she makes important decisions. She has free will, of course, like any five year old with terrible parents, but at every turn is prevented from acting on the...
What a beautiful baby girl! Oh, she is just precious!– Some lady on the elevator. Talking about my son. Sorry kiddo.
Do you want to have sex?– Things I say to my Starbucks mocha