Archive | November, 2010

Thankful for…(in no particular order)

24 Nov

  • My healthy, silly, perfect goofball twins (a.k.a. “The Dings”).
  • Black leggings, green rainboots and a pilly, stretched out hooded oatmeal sweater
  • Classic Christmas carols on XM4
  • Venti non-fat lattes
  • Snuggly middle-aged pets who greet The Dings every morning with slobbery Scooby Doo style kisses
  • Love, Actually
  • Lifelong friends who know me so (too) well
  • My new Kindle for Hanukkah
  • My gorgeous husband who, after 9 years, still makes me laugh so hard I pee
  • Babies who sleep through the night

tie your own tubes

10 Nov

My uterus is so talented. Period. (Get it?)

I don’t fancy myself a crafty mom. I don’t knit, can’t really cook and I certainly can’t play an instrument. That is, unless you consider a credit card an instrument, which I do because “ca-ching” is music to my ears.

But apparently my uterus can play piano. And now yours can, too!
So go ahead and whip yourself up a cuddly-wuddly, pink and fluffy womb because…hell, I don’t know why you would, actually. But you can learn to knit your own uterus if you’re so inclined.

a berry bad idea

8 Nov

That girl is poison. Never trust a big butt and a smile.

So I let the twinlets try a taste – and I mean only a taste – of frozen yogurt over the weekend.

1pm: Fro Yo Party.
Girl Child definitely has a sweet tooth. Boy Child is much more interested in the shenanigans and goings on of the birthday party we’re gracing with our presents presence.

7pm: Bath time.
Girl Child has a rash under her chin, on her cheeks and across her teeny tiny torso. She’s cooing up a storm and feeling fine so I chock it up to a heat rash thanks to temperamental Atlanta weather (30s in the morning, high 70s in the afternoon) and a mom who is keen on layering.

7:07pm: Google.
Mom is searching “pimply red rash” faster than a co-ed college freshman.

Who knew strawberries were a potential allergen to infants? Everyone but me? Right.

Heat rash is, indeed, the likely culprit since said yogurt was made from processed strawberries and not topped with (toxic) fresh ones.

7:25: Bed time.
Dad rolls his eyes at Mom, Mom breathes a sigh of relief and secretly considers replacing one layer of clothing with one sheet of bubble wrap.

Here’s to plain yogurt, safe babies and sane moms.