Not-So-Sleepy-Time

Sam and I are in da 'Burgh. And we are sharing a room. About a month ago we stopped doing this, and at first I was really sad. I think I even cried. Something about him being so close I could hear his breath in the night gave me comfort. But I was sleeping like shit. For one thing, I am an extremely light sleeper, so any turn, cough or fart woke me up. Additionally, Sam seems to be a light sleeper as well. When I'm falling asleep, I tend to roll around like a woman covered with bugs or snakes (mother fucking snakes) or something. In my efforts to remain silent I would try and remain still and it would take me hours to fall asleep. Inevitably, Sam would wake up for a midnight tit about half an hour after I dozed off. After a few days of separate rooms, I was dancing for joy and feeling more rested than I had in months. Unfortunately we're back in the shared sleeping space situation. (Side note: awesome alliteration!) This morning I was lucky enough to have my dad around to hand him off to at 6:45 when he got up, and then I took a nap this afternoon, so I'm doing fine at the moment. Talk to me on tuesday. I may not be so pleasant once all the grandparents have gone back to work!

Gratuitous naked baby photo!

Waaaaaa!

I'm getting on a plane today that isn't headed to San Jose, where every one else in the entire blogging world who has a vagina is going. There's even more, but Sam just woke up and I don't have time to link everyone. Next year, people, watch out. I'll be there, and I'll bring cheese. 'Cause I want people to like me and everyone likes cheese, right? It's kind of like a bribes/site tie in!

Girl, Please

Who ever owns this place has one sick sense of humor.

The End of the Halcyon Days

(Kudos to Greg for the title. Second mention!)

As I've mentioned before, Sam is a baby who only poops every week or two. At least he used to be. We started Sam on cereal and then applesauce in the past 10 days, and the pooping has increased. He actually seems to poop about 14 hours after I feed him. This scares me in more ways than one. For example, right now we're only feeding him solids once a day. What's going to happen when he starts getting them more often? Is he going to poop 14 hours after every feeding? Also, now when he poops, you can tell because he makes little grunting noises and his head gets all red! Kind of cute, but mostly scary. My friend Susan's brother calls this behavior 'getting thoughtful.' And one more thing. So far he seems to poop only when his father is at work. That I do not like. I thought we had an agreement little fella! I give you all the boobs you want, and in return you (occasionally) give your father a dirty diaper or two!

Speaking of boobs, I was looking at my site traffic info the other day. Most people who come here find their way via Susan, Lora, yr mom or Janet. However some poor girl found the Cheese Party via a google search for 'I'm embarrassed by my boobs.' How awful for her!

In other Sam news, he has now officially rolled over. In fact, he's done it several times! The funny part is that he doesn't really know what he's doing, so sometimes it catches him off guard. All of a sudden he's on his tummy and he's pissed! Also he usually rolls onto his arm and can't get it out from under him. Which I can imagine would be frustrating. He had performed this little trick for me several times, but Dr. SOB keep missing it. Finally on Sunday night I left the boy with dad for a few minutes so I could get a bath. While I was soaking I heard Dr. start clapping and crowing. When I came down he told me that he hadn't been watching Sam all that closely (I bit my tongue, hard, at that part of the story) but that right as he looked over at him he rolled over. Bully for dad!

We're going to Pittsburgh on Thursday for a bit of a trip. We'll be there until the 6th, but do not fear! My folks have a computer, so I will try and update as much as possible while we're away. While I'm on the subject of trips, let it be know that the only reason I'm not going to the BlogHer '06 conference is because of this Pittsburgh trip which encompasses a family reunion and also my grandparents' 50th wedding anniversary. I am so there next year!

Never Again...

We will never hire movers again. I've detailed to you the ways in which our move sucked already. The broken nature of all of our things, the missing couch cushions, etc. Then I told you how they found the couch cushions. Which was on July 8th. It is now July 24th, we've been here for 1 month, and the couch cushions have never materialized. The phone number for the moving company in Miami that supposedly has our cushions is just some dude's cell phone number. We've actually spoken with him twice. We've called him over 30 times. He isn't too good at returning calls. We were told they would be shipped via FedEx and we'd be given a tracking number, but alas that never happened. Also, the original movers won't 'finalize' our damage claim until the cushions get here in case they, too, are damaged and need to be added to the claim. God damned mother fuckers.

In other news, I can't believe that I overlooked Cheese Party's birthday! This site turned 1 on June 12. Also, I recently hit the 200 post mark. Those are some pretty big milestones in my opinion. I wonder when I should start potty training?

On a more personal level, we have lived here for one whole month. Sam and I arrived on June 24th. Well, technically we left Philadelphia on June 24th, but we arrived in Atlanta on June 25th. (One thing I will never miss about Philly: the freaking airport!) It's been an interesting month. I still haven't met many new friends (except for you guys, Greg Renae and Jake!) but I'm out there every day strutting my stuff trying to impress the moms of Atlanta. I think they might not like me because I don't drive an SUV. Every one here drives an SUV. Every. Single. Person. This is tough for me because I am diametrically opposed to SUVs unless they are hybrids, and 'hybrid' is a dirty word in these parts. I recently read an article about 50 things locals love to hate about Atlanta and this addiction to SUVs and gasoline was on the list. So I know that there are like-minded people here, I just need to find them!

The Proof is in the Puddin'

I will never again feel bad about the cellulite I have on the backs of my thighs and on my behind. Please observe the little dimples that my five month old son has on his tiny hiney. I've emphasized the area with an arrow for your viewing assistance. Genetics is a bitch, isn't it?

P.S. One day, Sam's going to find this and be royally pissed!

Five Months and Counting...

Dear Sam-a-lam-a,

Baby boy, I cannot believe how old you are getting! Every time I spied a clock today, I tried to remember what was happening on the day you were born. You are about 10 pounds heavier than you were when you were born, you little porker! Which is making it a little bit harder for mama to carry you around everywhere. And now we have 2 flights of steps to walk up and down together all the freaking day, so that's nice. So many things have happened this month I don't know where to begin. You learned how to make 'raspberries' and as soon as you mastered it you stopped altogether. This infuriates your father because he really liked the 'raspberries' and now you won't perform for him anymore. I guess you are supposed to behave more like a trained seal.

Another first this month: swimming! We've been to the pool a few times, and although you don't dislike it, you don't really know what to make of it. You just look around with a puzzled look on you face like 'what are all these people doing in my bathtub?' I just give you a toy to stuff in your maw and then you're as happy as a clam.

You still haven't rolled over yet, but that's A-OK with me! You do, however, scoot across the floor on your butt with amazing speed and agility. If you spy a toy that's out of your reach, why you just scoot on over and grab it up. No more sleeping in bed with mom and dad for you, you little mobile creature. Besides, sleeping in bed with your parents is so two months ago.

You also got your first taste of real food this month! Well, I'm not sure if rice cereal mixed with breast milk qualifies as 'real' but it's something other than just plain milk, right? You love it. LOVE! L.O.V.E. it. However your skills in the eating department are still a bit underdeveloped. Oh well, it makes for some cute effing pictures.

In a partially related note, since you have started with the cereal (5 days now) you have slept through the night twice. Even though every book I ever read said that giving cereal will NOT make your baby sleep through the night, never ever ever! Maybe it's unrelated. I'm not going to ask too many questions because I don't want to jinx this! Even though you have slept through the night, I have not been given the same blessing. You see there are these two things on my chest which fill up with milk at night, and when you don't wake up to drain them, they start shooting milk out of them right around 6am. A lot of milk. I've changed the sheets both nights you slept through. Between that and the cereal, it's been a big laundry week around here!

Mostly this month I've loved watching you learn. Your ability to play a new game or figure out a new toy astounds me. One day you pulled a blankie over your face, and I said 'where's my baby?' and when you pulled the blanket down I said 'there he is!' Something registered on your face that you understood what was happening. Now we play this all the time. In your gymni there is a turtle that hangs which has a mirror on the bottom. As you played in there today, you caught your reflection in that mirror. In your hands was your taggie blanket, and you pulled it up over your face. When you yanked it down, you looked up at your own reflection and laughed out loud. I cried. It's been so amazing watching you grow so far, and you're still so little. I can't imagine how I'll feel when you're 16 and learning to drive. I get sad sometimes after I've put you to bed because I know there will be a day when you get to big to fall asleep in my arms. I'm just glad for now because I know that day is still far off, and every night when I put you to bed I'll kiss your tiny head and lock that moment away in my heart, so that when you are older and don't want your mom kissing you goodnight anymore I can pull that moment out and relive it.

I love you baby. More and more every moment.

Mama

A Study of Snufalapagus

The Waiting, Dear God the Waiting

Today is the day I wait for stuff. Furniture, cable guy and UPS. Naturally, they couldn't all be scheduled at the same time. The new couches are coming sometime between 8 and 12. The cable guy is coming sometime between 11 and 3. The UPS guy comes whenever the fuck he wants to. Which is annoying. At least I have lots of reading to do. And once the new couches arrive, I'll actually have some where to sit and read! Right now we only have the dining room chairs to sit in, and while they are comfortable enough to sit in for the duration of, say, a meal, they're not the kind of chairs you want to kick back in to watch a little Deadwood. Fortunately, the dining room chairs and accompanying table are going away this weekend. This table, which I loved with all my heart, has become the thorn in my paw. It is the one item that we were unable to sell in order to make this new house manageable. Luckily, a new friend of the Dr. just bought a new house and is looking to fill it with some stuff. He didn't want to run out an buy a ton of furniture because he's getting engaged soon (shhhh! It's a secret!) and he figures that his soon-to-be fiancee will have opinions of her own about new furniture. So he's going to use it for the year and then give it back to us once we have a place for it. We were just glad that we didn't have to sell it for a major loss or use it as firewood.

Huzzah! While I was writing this, the cable guy called and said he'll be here early! As in 10 minutes from now! Hooray! I'm calling UPS to see if they can get their asses in gear and then maybe the tot and I can go to the pool this afternoon.

Virgin Camera Shots

Naturally, all of the pictures I took of the baby came out a little eh, but this one of the cat came out pretty cool.















Also here is one of Sam playing his new favorite game. It's called 'See how loud I can yell? I can yell so loud! Look now I'm yelling even louder!'












I love you, new camera!

Christmas in July

When we moved here to Hotlanta, we 'had' to buy a new television. Our old television was too big for the new house, both in physical size and screen size. Of course, the Dr. was devastated that he 'had' to buy himself a new television. When he got here (a few days before me) he went to Circuit City to browse at the glorious flat screen beauties, and naturally he ended up buying one. In the process of the purchase, something dangerous happened. They gave the Dr. an insanely high credit limit. Oh and 24 months no interest on purchases of $500 or more. Since then, he has purchased an additional flat screen television for our bedroom. And two wall mounting kits. And a new phone. He wanted to buy ANOTHER television for the guest room, but I put my foot down. It was mamma's turn to spend a ridiculous amount of pretend money on something we didn't need. Behold, my new delicious camera:


Isn't she pretty? Now if I only knew how to use it! Don't worry, I've already bought two 'how to' tomes. I've been experimenting, too. Once I figure out how to transfer the pictures to the computer, I'll show you some of my handiwork!

The Land of Milk and Rice Cereal

Sam got his first taste of rice cereal yesterday, and the boy, he loved it. I shouldn't be surprised, really, given that his father had never met a food he didn't love. Except peas. He fucking hates peas. We were planning to wait until he was 6 months old, but Sam is very convincing. His presentation on why he should be given solids included some very interesting points, including a section on, 'if you don't give me that spoon you'll be sorry' and, 'the screaming that will occur if you don't gimme some of that will make you want to puncture your own eardrums.' He really put a lot of thought into it! Recently, when I would hold him while I was eating all bets were off. He would contort his body in any way possible to try and mash his hands into whatever I was eating. After the first bite or two yesterday, the boy went nuts with glee. He also decided that he was much better at driving the spoon than mommy was. There were several struggles for utensil control, and unfortunately for Dr. SOB, he ended up wearing as much cereal as Sam ate. We're going to assemble the high chair today so that the Dr. and I don't have to wear ponchos at dinner.

Those Sneaky Bastards

In this modern era of nationwide 'do not call' registries, you have to wonder who telemarkerters are calling these days. Since the easiest way to register your number is online, I suspect that the elderly make up a large portion of the pool of numbers that are not on the 'do not call' lists. I know my grandfather hasn't registered his number because he can't figure out 'that damned email machine.' Also, maybe people with no arms. Unless they have one of those special computers for people with no arms. The other group of numbers available for telemarketers is new phone numbers. I know this because we have gotten no less than 8 calls a day for magazine subscriptions, life insurance and long distance service just to name a few. I registered our number to the 'do not call' registry, however it takes 31 calendar days for it to take effect. Naturally, all of these calls seem to come when Sam is napping. Heather has had similar problems with door-to-door solicitation, and I thought her solution was ingenious. My solution so far has been to turn the ringer of on the phone and just stare at it for the hours he's napping so I can see it if it rings. Then if it is a telemarketer, I give them an institution-worthy freak-out so they are too terrified to ever call again. So far, it's working out just fine. I just have to be careful that it's not someone who wants to buy our furniture on the phone, or else we'll have 17 couches forever.

His Bad Mother

Unlike Her Bad Mother, I mean bad as in 'unfit', not as in 'bad-ass.' I am bad because last night we went to sleep and forgot to turn on the baby monitor. Also, I sleep wearing earplugs because Dr. SOB is such a terrific snore machine. And did I mention that he is also the worlds deepest sleeper? By the time he heard Sam crying, the boy had worked himself into such a fit of fury that his tears were actually projectile. It took me almost 5 minutes to calm him down enough to eat, and then it took about 30 minutes for him to fall back asleep. I just went back to bed and laid there, awake, trying not to cry. We let him 'cry it out' often enough, but this felt different. Like I had let him down some how. This morning he seemed unaffected. He was all smiles as usual, and he fell asleep just fine at nap time. Thank god they make these little suckers so resilient!

Ironical

They found our couch cushions. Two days after we bought a (non-returnable, non-refundable) new couch. And loveseat. Nice.

So ever since the 'sleeping through the night' incident, Sam has been sleeping quite well and only waking his dear mother once per night. I can deal with this type of sleep pattern, especially since he's also been napping during the day for HOURS AT A TIME! Time where I can get shit done! Shit like cleaning! And cooking! And trying to sell one of our 17 couches! It's so much fun!

But we are having fun. Yesterday and today we went to Stroller Strides, a group exercise class performed with stroller containing babe, which meets in local parks. And these classes are quite necessary as I have started going back to Weight Watchers. I can tell when I need to lose some weight when my ass doesn't look so big because my stomach is sticking out as a counter balance. I have gained about 10 pounds since the beginning of May, and I want to be back to the pre-pregnancy weight by beach time in September. We'll see. Also we joined a local swimming hole, and I don't want to embarrass little Sam when we go swimming. Hopefully he won't embarrass me by pooping in the pool.

Did You Ever Notice...

That the combination of letters in the word verification 'words' always sound like something you might buy at Ikea?

Who Are You?

Who is this baby? He looks like my baby Sammy, but I think he might be an imposter. Sam wakes up every night at least twice, sometimes even three or four times. This baby pictured here slept last night from 9pm until 7am. It was weird. I decided last night that if it had been less than four hours since his last feeding, that I would leave Sam in his bed to 'cry it out.' He woke up around 11:30, and he started talking and protesting lightly, but there was no crying. The next time I woke up, it was 2am. I was a little freaked out that he hadn't gotten up, so since I had to pee, I checked on him. He was fine. I went back to sleep and woke up again at 4:45am. This time I was really freaked out that there had been no demand for boobies yet. (Also, my boobs were so full by this time that I was having trouble walking.) I checked in on him and again, he was fine. When he finally woke up a little after 7, I felt so rested I could have walked to Philadelphia and back again. I'm not counting on this ever happening again until he's 4 or 5, but I gotta tell you. It. Was. Awesome.

Lost In Translation

By and large, I'd say we were adapting quite well to life in the south. The heat is tolerable and the sweet tea is nice. There is one little thing, though, that keeps catching us off guard, and that is the very thick southern accent. Some folks don't seem to have a severe one, and others are completely indecipherable to us yanks. We were out to get our cars re-tagged the other day and couldn't find the DMV to save our lives. We stopped to ask directions, and since the good Dr. knows I have a bit of a problem with thick accents in general, he agreed to get out and speak to the man at the gas station. Keep in mind that we are still within Atlanta city limits, and the place we were looking for was in a shopping mall, so we're not talking backwood Georgia or anything. He gets back in the car and tells me that the place we're looking for is right next to a store called 'The Lazy Broom'. We spent 15 minutes or more looking for this store. Finally, as we stood bewildered in front of a giant store called 'Amazing Rooms' it dawned on me. We were out of our element.

This Is Not a Joke

The weather reporter on the local NBC affiliate is named Flip Spiceland. He used to work for CNN, too! Apparently, he got fired from there for yelling at an anchor woman when she interrupted him. Oh that Flip Spiceland, such a hothead. Oh well, at least he doesn't wear a bow tie!

Ahhhhh Freak Out!

We've always said that once we got settled here in ATL we'd probably go and buy a new stroller. One that's a little lighter and handles better. Well, today I was browsing the Babies R Us web page and I found myself looking at the double strollers. NOTE: I AM NOT PREGNANT. We're not even trying, but we're thinking about trying sometime in the next 6-12 months, and since we already have one stroller that will accommodate an infant, why not make the new one have the capacity to hold two reasonably aged children? But then will I be that weird lady walking around with only 1 kid in a double stroller? When I see women walking around with that kind of system, it makes me worry that they forgot one of their kids somewhere, or that they are crazy types who think they have 2 kinds instead of 1. When I'm in a blue mood, I sometimes worry that maybe once they had 2 kids and now they only have 1. Am I ready to inflict this type of emotional anxiety to overly curious types like myself?

In cuter news, Sam has accidentally discovered that he can make 'raspberry' noises with his lips. Not the tongue type, with all the messy slobber, but the kind where you blow air through your lips while making a 'burrrrr' sound. Unfortunately, like his mother, Sam can only perform this trick a few times before his lips wear out. At that point, the air just moves between his lips and there is no 'raspberry' sound, only the 'burrrrr' sound. He gets really really focused and keeps trying, but to no avail! Then he wants me or Dr. to do it so he can watch to see if he's attempting the maneuver correctly. Then the trying again! It's so freaking cute! We try and distract him for a while once his lips have reached their maximum 'raspberry' potential, and usually after an hour or so he can do them again. He has a new activity center, so he's pretty easily distracted.

He almost as easily distracted as his father!

Four Months and Counting...the Belated Version

Dear Sammy -

(Sorry this is a little late. We were doing that whole most-awful-move-in-the-universe thing for a while. Now that we're a little more settled, let me tell you that you seem to be loving it here in Atlanta. But that's for next month.)

Last month Sam, you really started to become a little tiny person. You have figured out that there are things you like and things you don't. And you know pretty well how to communicate that to your mama through a series of high pitched screams. Things you like: being naked, looking in the mirror, Mr. Snufalufagus' trunk and your dad. You giggle like a school girl every time he looks in your direction. Things you don't like: bottles, socks and anything that gets in between you and my boobs. I'm pretty sure that for your first willful act you're going to hide all of my bras. You tear at my shirts as soon as I pick you up when you're hungry. Your dad is impressed.

You still don't sleep through the night, but I've come to terms with that. Every other baby I know sleeps through the night, but not Sam. Why sleep when there's so much fun to be had? If you weren't so effing cute, I think my reaction to this might be a little different.

You got your first taste of ice cream this month. (I know, I'm a bad mother. Don't email me!) I gave you the tiniest drop on my finger tip, and for the next three days every time my finger got near your face you tried to grab it and jam it in your mouth. Once you'd get it in there and realize it wasn't coated in sweet creamy goodness, you'd jam it in further, thinking that somewhere on this finger there had to be ice cream, damn it! You'd got pretty pissed when realized my hands weren't made of Ben & Jerry's! All in good time, my sweet!

You are loving your naps these days. Mom's sure glad you finally decided to start sleeping for more than 30 minutes at a time when the sun is up. Sometimes you surprise me with a 2-3 hour nap. After about 90 minutes I start checking in on you to make sure your still alive, and you are. You're just chillin'.

Another thing you discovered this month is your ears. And every one else's ears. You pull and poke at your own every time a toy isn't in your hands. And god help any grown person who lets you grab a handful of their ear. They just might not get it back!

Most of all this month, you've started to reach for things. Toys mostly, but occasionally when you're tired you'll reach for me. This makes my chest explode with warm gooey feelings every time. Then I'll hold you until you fall asleep and give you a million tiny kisses all over your face before I lay you down. Sometimes you laugh and smile in you sleep. I'd like to think that you're dreaming of me and your dad, and you're happy because you know how much we love you. Sleep tight, my baby, and always remember that mama thinks you're the handsomest boy in school!

Something's Happening Here...

Sam has been napping since 10:30am. I keep checking on him, and he keeps sleeping. He got up at 7:45 and came to bed with mama, where we slept for another hour or so. Then we had morning play time. He went down for his nap, which usually only lasts an hour, 90 minutes tops!

In unrelated news, the Maytag man is coming to fix my dryer today. I really hope it's the guy from the commercials!

Ah! The boy awakes! He must've known I was blogging!

The Day That Was The Day...

So here's the story. It's probably not going to be as detailed or interesting as it was this morning, but that's not really my fault so suck it! (Sorry. I really do love you guys. It's been a long day.)

The movers came. Even though we had arranged delivery for monday or tuesday as part of our contract, they told us that that wasn't possible. Maybe if we gave them more money up front they could try and get it on a truck that was heading south on wednesday and it would get there sunday or monday. Ok, we said. They said they would call us and let us know that night. Well they called and informed us that our stuff would be there friday. Friday was the day our friends Laura and Eric were getting married. If no one was here in Atlanta to greet the movers, our stuff would be returned to Philly. In order to get it back to Atlanta at that point, we would have had to pay the freight from Atlanta to Philly and back again, and probably wait three weeks for it to get there. So Dr. SOB skipped the wedding and left for ATL on thursday afternoon. Instead of having three and a half days to clean and ready ourselves for the moving, we had about 36 hours. Luckily Sam's aunt Allison was there to help us, or we would have never gotten out of there in one piece. Here she is enjoying a nap in Sam's gymni. The babe and I ended up staying at Carrie and Marcello's from thursday to saturday, along with every other person we ever knew. I was kind of like a slumber party that we crashed and then took the good bed. Things were ok for us in Philly, but the movers had arrived in Atlanta on friday and there was some bad news. Tons of stuff had broken, and other stuff was missing. For example, the microwave cart thing that we kept our booze in arrived in 7 pieces instead of 1. And the seat cushions and 1 back cushion from our couch never arrived so now it looks like this:



And the living room/dining room area in the new place was smaller than just our living room in Philly, so the seats-8-comfortably dining room table we bought last January wasn't fitting so well. The Dr. was not a happy camper. That night I went to the wedding while Allison babysat and had a grand time.

Saturday rolled in and we got ready for our flight, which was at 5:05pm. Dr. always makes fun of me because I like to go to the airport balls early when I'm traveling. This time I decided to be less neurotic since we were flying out of the commuter terminal and things usually run pretty smoothly there. We got to the airport at about 3:50, and even thought I checked online before we left, the flight had been delayed until 6:20. There was a flight to Atlanta with seats available that was departing at 4:00, so I ran to the gate. Of course it was at gate F39, the last gate in the terminal. Just as I rolled Sam to the gate I saw it pull back from the jetway. So we waited. And waited. And changed gates. And sat on the dirty airport floor to breastfeed because not one single fucking ass hole in Philadelphia would offer a nursing mother a seat. And waited. And changed gates again. And breastfed on the floor again. (Side note: the only person who offered us a seat in the airport was a 70 year old lady. Chivalry is dead.) We finally boarded the plane only to find out that there were 35 flights ahead of us for take off. We had secured an aisle seat, which I prefer as I am a bit on the tall side. In the window seat was a young boy, maybe about 3 years old. His mother was sitting in the window seat in the row behind us. She asked me if I would switch seats with her, and because I am a mother now and also generally a nice person I did. My cosmic reward for this was a seat with a broken recline button. Not that airplane seats recline all that much but Jesus H. Christ are you kidding me? Luckily, Sam slept most of the flight and the guy sitting next to me only got to see my boob once or twice. We landed in the middle of a lightening storm, so we weren't allowed to de-plane for 15 minutes after we parked at the gate. After getting the bags and getting home, it was about 1am.

There were horrible storms for two days in Atlanta and our roof started leaking. Then the dryer broke. By monday I was ready to jump off the roof. Now things have started to calm down, but I think the baby is teething because he won't sleep for more than an hour and a half at a time. The chinese food here sucks. On the bright side, Elton John and Big Boi are our neighbors. I'm hoping to get pictures of them shopping at Publix and sell them to the Enquirer for big bucks. Wish me luck!

My Eyes are Exploding With Rage

I just spent the last hour wiring a HUGE post of our entire moving experience and it disappeared. This after a night where the boy didn't sleep from 12 midnight to 6 am. I think I am going to break something. Like someone's face. Don't come near me right now. I fucking hate everything. Forever.

Do You Remember Me?

Sorry I haven't posted for real in such a long time, but I've been trying to sell all my furniture. Wanna buy something? Everything we have for the living room/dining room is too big for the new place. Oh and the mover lost our couch cushions, so the furniture that was usable is now not. I promise that in the next day or two, I'll sit down and tell you all about it. I have about 800 posts in my head. For now, check out our view!