Cam!

The four front teeth on top are all coming in right now... and she took her first steps tonight!! Thanks Mommapeas for the toy! It was VERY motivating!

This makes me realize that she will soon have a full mouth of teeth, head of hair, and walking legs... slow down little girl.

Finicky defined.

fin·ick·y –adjective, -ick·i·er, -ick·i·est. excessively particular or fastidious; difficult to please; fussy.

So true... maybe I should work on this one. Although I am not fussy... excessively particular, yes. difficult to please, probably. fussy? I think not.

Define me?

When given the chance to anonymously describe me on Facebook, this is what my friends chose:

finicky (2)

sarcastic (2)

maternal (2)

neurotic (2)

organized (1)

picky (1)

friendly (1)

hilarious (1)

skinny (1)

horny (1)

bold (1)

Besides wondering if finicky was a good or bad thing... I'm quite pleased. I'm a skinny, horny, laughing bitch. My mother will be so proud. :)

Go to facebook and give me more words. I'm slightly obsessed with myself. I love this shit. I always wonder what people think of me... here's your chance to tell.

Sink or Swim, Buddha.

Preschool is right around the corner. It makes me so nervous. Strangers with my child? Ugh. But I know he will enjoy it and gain something from it. So I have to bring in my coping mechanism...

When I was about 4, it was time for me to learn to swim. Here's how that went down:
Every summer, we went a couple times a week to the Y of a river, the Pigeon River and Little Pigeon River to be exact. My parents lived very close to it. It was sparkling pristine water that came straight from the Smokies. It flowed from the National Park, so it wasn't polluted yet. It was beautiful and clean and ice fucking cold. We loved it. We would collect rocks, my older brothers would jump off of high rocks called "the sinks," intertube, and other general FUN stuff.
But I couldn't swim. I had to stay back with my mother while my dad and brothers happily explored. Then one day, my dad looked at me and said, "How old are you?" I told him four. So like my siblings before me, he grabbed me by one arm and one leg and threw me into the center of the Y. Mind you, it was deep. There were warning signs for undertows, or some scary "will kill you" stuff.
But I swam... if you call thrashing about wildly and flailing about like a cat in water swimming.
This was risky. It could have scarred me. But apparently, the old man knew what he was doing, and more importantly, he knew what I was capable of. When I got to the side my dad told me "I knew you could do it." Then he told me to look at where my brothers were, and they were positioned strategically to save me if needed.

Unorthodox, sure. But it worked. My parents were able to instill me with enough self-confidence to fuel an army. Sometimes I have too much. But nonetheless, I will be drawing on this experience next week when Buddha starts school.

The plan is to drive up to the school, come to a stop, shove him out the door and into the arms of the unknowing sucker who will deal with him all day. Then I will drive off, circle the block once, and find a parking spot across the street... with my cell phone in my hand and my binoculars in the passenger seat. That is, unless I'm a Mom!?! is in the passenger seat using my binoculars to spy on Munchkin.

Sex & Vomit

We were in Knoxville this past weekend for a wedding. My dear childhood friend got married, and though I've lost touch with her through the years, I still think about her often. When we saw each other we started crying... I was basically sobbing and doing my ugly cry- which involves my face contorting and turning red. I was just so happy to see her so happy. If anyone deserves 'happily ever after' it's this girl. She is just a kind soul.
At the wedding I noticed that Husband had a zit on the right side of the top of his head. It resembled a devil's horn. I tried to ignore it, but it was turning red and starting to pulsate. I think it had a full circulatory system of it's very own.
So the weekend passes and we come home. Sleeping with Buddha while at my parent's house prevented any sex. I always try to do it in the car, but Husband isn't a fan of car sex. So needless to say we were lacking in sex.
We get home and get kids settled. Then we shower. Then we do it.
The end? No I think not.
Near the end of doing it, I notice it. The zit. It has been defiled during the showering process and is no longer red. There is no white cap. It is now an open wound with a giant ball of pus coming out. Now mind you, Husband and his zit are on top of me thrashing about with zest. I start to panic. I try to watch the zit without letting him notice. I see the sphere of pus start to fall. Dear freaking god it's going to drip on me. I will throw up. I will vomit during sex, forever tainting the whole act. FUCK.
Thankfully, the act finished right before "it" started to drip. But I must say, it was one of the most horrifying moments I have ever experienced sexually.
Too much information? Yes. But I somehow think I'm not the only one out there who has experienced this. If anyone needs support, just let me know.

And for the record, Husband is not a zitty person. It was a rarity. He is a perfect adonis-like speciman.

Happy 3rd Birthday Buddha

Friday, August 22nd, you turn 3 years old.
I don't write letters to you on here, mostly because I write letters to you in person. You get to open them at different ages. This year's letter is for when you turn 8. It's main theme is a little thing I have been telling you all summer: "Let's love each other like this forever." You're about to grow up and start caring about more than just me. We will start fighting soon. We'll be mad at each other. You might tell me you hate me. You won't need me as much. And that's good. But I just want you to remember what it's like right now. It's easy and effortless. It's simple and pure. It's everything love is supposed to be. I just want you to remember... that's all.

I want you and me to both remember what's really important and who will always be there. I am always behind you. Oh, and Daddy is behind you too. I sometimes forget about him. ;)

Birthday Bonanza!

Buddha's 3rd birthday party was FANTASTIC! All the kids played in the waterslide/pool and the bounce house... (Thanks Kim and Seis!) then the fire truck showed up. Buddha is not a loud kid. When he is confronted with something that overjoys him, he goes completely silent. So as Fire Engine #3 (how appropriate!) pulled up to our house with the lights on... I saw it. That look. The look that tells me how incredibly happy my son is. All the kids rang the bell, took pictures, etc. One very affectionate little boy even gave the firemen a full-on frontal hug. Buddha said thank you and gave high fives. Bliss. Pure bliss.
Then we ate. Appetizers were sausage balls, fruit & dip, mexican dip, and baby back ribs. Dinner was simple, burgers and dogs, hot dog chili, deviled eggs, baked beans, and enough pickles to last a lifetime. Then we opened presents, always fun. Although at this age, it's like opening packages of raw tenderloin in front of a pack of wolves... every kid in the room was foaming at the mouth... but we muddled through. And then we had cake and ice cream. Yummy dark chocolate cake with buttercream icing, and birthday cake ice cream. By this point, Husband was deep in his bottle of Jim Beam. Two bottles of tequila were gone. One bottle of rum, missing. One bottle of Seagram's, gone. Countless beers, vanished.

So basically, it was a typical birthday party at out house. Pictures coming soon. My camera broke so I'm relying on other well-meaning partygoers to share theirs with me.

The afterparty involved Husband's manfriends staying. I thought I would get a sneak peek of what they do when the women aren't around. I was expecting trash-talking of wives, tales of vaginal conquests, etc. What I didn't expect was a drunken round of trivia drinking games... heisman winners in the past 75 years, naming the 50 states and their capitols, even the books of the bible- in order. I was shocked, to say the least. I couldn't believe how smart the fuckers were... I knew they were smart, they're successful adults... but they possess strange knowledge. I called them on their anti-raunchiness, so they started talking about fingers in the a$$. Ahhh yes, all was right in the world again. I called it a night.

OH, last but not least... THANK YOU to everyone who came, and a special thank you to all who helped, be it watching my children, deviling eggs, or keeping a supply of endless mojito in my cup. It means so much to us that you want to be a part of our childrens' lives. We moved here so they would have exactly what we have... a group of responsible adults they can trust and look up to as role models, and a group of children they can experience life with... all while I'm comfortable knowing they are friends with kids that are well-raised and loved. Merci.

Call me crazy...

...but I wish Amanda Peet hadn't apologized for her "parasites" remark in Cookie magazine. She wasn't being mean, she was actually just stating an opinion and using a very good analogy... regardless of your stance on vaccines.

It may take me 2 years, but I updated...

I finally got rid of the dots. Go see.

kids, analyzed

Cam is almost 11 months old... she's trying to walk (although she looks like a drunken YankeeBelle when she walks), she says mama and dada, she waves frantically and says "HIIIIII!!!", she shakes her head 'NO' and sometimes says "no no no no", and she laughs at her brother all day long.
It amazes me to see her... she is so different than the Buddha. Having two has definitely shown me which one has characteristics and traits from the Husband and me.
Buddha is me. Quiet and observative... until he's comfortable, then it's on! He waited until he was almost 2 to start talking... but now that he's talking, we're realizing that he was taking it all in the past year. He remembers eating dinner with specific people at a certain place a year ago, even though we've only been there one time. I have a great memory, how else do you get A's in Organic Chemistry? He has my memory... I'm so glad. Husband has a memory span of about 15 seconds. And that's when he's sober... add some Beam and it drops significantly. I wouldn't speak in front of strangers until the 1st or 2nd grade. I just watched everyone. And I catch him doing the same thing. He loves books, just like me. He gets frustrated easily... again, like me.
Cameron is content. She is her father in a tiny girly body. She speaks and squeals and lights up. Her eyes are mesmorizing. She never gives up... and doesn't frustrate easily, just like her daddy. She never cries, she's just happy. She doesn't like to be held for too long. She wants to get down and keep up with Buddha. She loves pulling my hair, again... like her daddy (TMI?). She'll eat anything, I think she likes trying new things. Buddha, like me, was adverse to change.

They're so alike and so different. It makes everyday so damned interesting. Cheers to life!

The Ways of the Native Alabamans...

I'm not joking. Living here means you should consult both Auburn and Alabama's football schedule before planning a child's birthday party. I'm scared to find out what will happen if Cam's bday party interferes with a game.

I had no idea.

I'm the crazy neighbor now!!!

I'm overportective and paranoid. I've tried to loosen up, but everytime I do... something happens that I could've prevented if I hadn't loosened up. I have one issue I've been trying to deal with my whole life- I think of every possible bad thing that can happen, I picture it in my head, then I go back and picture different ways to stop it. For example, when we went to the beach, I pictured kids drowning, being swept out by the tide, hit by cars, kidnapped at restaurants, etc. Then I played out in my head ways to prevent it all from happening, ways to save them. I used to do this about my dogs... but having kids has amplified it by a million. I'm not crazy, just super cautious. After reading what I just wrote, I kind of sound crazy.

So this morning, I get a knock on my door at 8:30am. Cam and I were playing, Buddha was still in bed. I look out the window on the door because there is NO way I'm opening the door... and there's two men dressed in worker-type clothes with hard hats on. There was no company name anywhere on them. I yell "Yes??" through the door, and he realizes I'm not opening it. So he yells and tells me that they are from the power company and they need me to go in my backyard and unlock the gate so they can get to a pole. (I keep our gates locked with combination locks because I'm afraid the dogs will escape, one of my fears.) So I go into worst case mode... Two men, no company name, no truck, nada... who want me alone in my backyard... So I go into action mode. I put Big Dog on a leash, pre-dial 911 on my phone, grab baby Cam and head out. As I'm walking towards them to the gate, I decide that to be extra safe, I should yell this: (I had to yell over Big Dog's very loud and mean barking.)

"MY DOG IS TRAINED FOR PROTECTION AND MY PHONE IS SET TO DIAL 911!!"

One guy says, "We're just from the power company." The other one has a look on his face that says "crazy nut in the mismatched pajamas with no bra on..."

I would go back out to apologize, but they'd probably run if I got too close to them.

My garbage smells like a rainbow.

I called our city garbage people today to request a new garbage can. It went like this:

Me: Hi, I wanted to see if I could replace my current garbage can with a new one?
Her: Is it damaged?
Me: No, it is disgusting and the smell of it fills up our whole driveway.
Her: It's a garbage can, it usually doesn't smell good. (Touche!! So true.)
Me: Yeah, but it was here when we bought the house and the people who lived here before us put their trash in it, and there's just something even stinkier about other people's trash... (I go on for a good 3 minutes, basically telling this poor woman that MY garbage doesn't smell bad...)
Her: Ma'am?
Me: Yes?
Her: Unless it's damaged you can't have one. Maybe you could wash it.
Me: Okay, thank you.

Husband frequently tells me that I think my "shit don't stink." I'm starting to think he's onto something.

More vacation pics

Advantages of the first born or only child

I know I won't be able to do this kind of stuff with Cam... I'll find other ways to shower her with too much love... but this morning, Buddha couldn't figure out which of the 6 cereals he wanted.

So I made him a sampler. Of 6 cereals. I even let him eat the marshmallows out of the Lucky Charms. He's covered in milk and content in life.

Love is a sampler of cereals.

2 years??!?!

559 posts.
I have been blogging for over 2 years... it feels like just yesterday. On July 21, 2006 random_mommy was born.

Time surely does fly when you're in love.