Beastie-isms - Age 35 months + 3 weeks

Can you believe Beastie will be three in just a few more days? That's right, just eight days till her birthday. She talks so much now, and she's so funny. Here're a few examples.

"Better not try to walk on the water, Mom. You might get died. Use a bridge. Or a boat!"

"I love you so much. But I don't love when spiders get all over you!"

"It would be so bad if a horse came and stomped all over you!!"

"I like my room, Mom, but I don't like when the ghost gets in there and rubs his back on my bed."

"I don't like beavers, because they eat children."

"I hope you never make me eat poop, because it's very, very stinky."

"I have a friend named Ella, and her friend Stacy said I could eat all these cookies if I want to." (Note: We don't know anyone named Ella or Stacy.)

She's working on becoming passive aggressive too ... today she couldn't open a bag with a toy in it, and she asked for help twice but no one was able to help her. Angry, she threw the toy down and said, "Fine! I guess I'll never be able to play with this toy again!!"

And when I say something that makes her cry, such as hollering at her for hitting, she says through her tears, " Thanks a LOT, Mom! Now you made me cry! You ruined my LIFE!"

Superglue can fix everything, even large gaping wounds.

Yesterday, The Babe (who needs a new nickname, now that he's almost two) decided it would be grand idea to do some sort of gymnastic stunt under our oval glass coffee table.

The problem with this idea is, foreheads and glass coffee tables just don't go too well together.

He hit his browbone on the coffee table, right on his eyebrow, splitting it wide open. It was about the size of a nickel, almost perfectly round, and bleeding like a mofo. I held him in my arms and the blood poured into his ear and got stuck all in his hair.

He only cried for about five minutes, maybe less, and I got his cut cleaned up. Once it was clean I could see it was only about 3/4 inch long, but it kept opening up really wide and looking all freaky.

So, off to Urgent Care we went. The bleeding had mostly stopped when we got in the van, so I was worried that I was doing it for nothing. But when we got there twenty minutes later, I could see that he had been messing with it and it had started bleeding again. He looked horrible. It was all caked around his eye and in his eyelashes so he could hardly open his eye, and it was running down his face. It was gross.

They got him right in and had to strap him to a papoose board to keep him still, which he HATED. They got it all cleaned so the doctor could see what we were dealing with. She was surprised by how deep it was, and decided that glue would do the trick, but it was bad enough that she called another doctor in to consult. The consensus? No stitches. Just superglue.

So they held his wound together like lips and glued him all up with some purple superglue stuff, and now he's right as rain.

Funny, we have had this coffee table for years and years, and none of the kids have ever gotten hurt on it before. Leave it to the first boy. I shudder to think what my life will look like in a year, when I have two toddler boys running around.

Today, my son ....

..... poured a 5 pound bag of sugar on the kitchen floor

..... took of his diaper, pooped on the floor, and played in it (while I was cleaning up the sugar)

..... dumped a whole bottle of shampoo in the bathtub (while I was washing the poop off him)

..... found my secret potato chip stash and dumped it on my bed (while I was getting his clothes out, post-bath)

..... got into the bug spray and effectively removed any trace of mosquito from the kitchen (while I was cleaning up the potato chips)

..... put all the dirty dishes on the counter and played in the dirty dish water (while I was cleaning up the bug spray)

..... found another bag of sugar, then freaked out when I got it from him before he could open it.

It has been a long day.

Gettin' Skinneh!

There is less of me now than there was two weeks ago. Seven pounds less, to be exact.

I'm not sure where that seven pounds went. Maybe it's in Fat Heaven. Or maybe Teh Fat Gods redistributed it to that skinny bitch who's always making passes at my husband. (If that's the case, I hope it's all in her thighs.)

Check this out. Pre-diet, I was eating 3400 to 3900 calories a day. I wasn't gaining weight but I wasn't losing it, which means I have wicked good metabolism. I'm nursing two children so I decided not to cut my calories too much - 2400 a day seems right.

A couple days I went over, and a couple days I was under, but for the most part, 2400 is easily achievable. Pair that with a 1-3 mile walk three times a week, and you've got weight loss, baby!

This weekend I fell off the wagon and ate french fries, birthday cake, full cal ice cream, and, worst of all, three plates of fried deliciousness at the Chinese buffet. I haven't weighed myself because I don't want to know if I put all the weight back on.... I would cry.

Today I was really good and ate salad wraps for lunch (plus a huge diet Coke, but shut up, I deserved it) and a most delicious portobello/red pepper/mozzarella panini. And because I did so good, I was able to enjoy a couple mini Reese's peanut butter cups. I still have 900 calories that I can use up today, and I'm thinking about maybe a tiny sliver of cake. Or actually, I should make those calories count and have a bowl of avocado pudding (which tastes like chocolate).

I also walked three miles today. I say that all nonchalant because it wasn't a big deal. Maybe tomorrow we'll do four. We would have gone further but Beastie's legs got tired. Next time I will put her in the Ergo and burn even more calories.

Woo! Update! It's a miracle!

What? Has it really been since February since I last blogged? Really? Wow.

I can't update you in one post. It would be boring and full of boring day to day things.

Instead, I will pretend no hiatus ever happened and that you have been reading about my life each and every day for the last three months.

So.

Beastie will be three in July. THREE! Can you believe that?
And The Babe is 20 months. TWENTY MONTHS!
And Monkey is six months old!

When I started this blog, Beastie was 13 months old, and The Babe was 11 days old., and I had no idea Monkey would ever come to exist.
If that ain't some shit.

I've been having some trouble with my brain.

I've had ADD for a long time, probably since I was very young, and definitely since I was diagnosed but left untreated at age eleven. It's been really bad lately, and I can't organize my thoughts enough to write a blog post. I have so many started, but I can't get past the first three or four sentences. I forget words. I forget thoughts. I forget how to put them all together in semi-logical sentences.

Hence, no blogging.

Here are some random things, because according to teh internets, random is almost as good as epic.

I am putting dreadlocks in my hair. Sweet!

I have twelve half grown chickens living in my yard.

A powerline fell on two of the trees in the yard and set them on fire, and the fire department had to come and everything. I took pictures.

I bought a rug for my living room.

My friend had a baby girl two days ago, and she only weighed 2lbs. 4oz., but she is expected to thrive and grow.

I don't drink alcohol or use mind altering substances, so it was kinda ironic that I figured I'd grow some medical marijuana. I didn't have a second thought about it, either. Just thought I'd put it in with my other medicinal herbs. Then I was all like, wait. That's illegal. Bummer.

I fell down the stairs while I was hollering at Five. Now whenever she's in trouble she asks me to come downstairs.

In nine days, The Hub and I will celebrate our seventh anniversary.

I made some new friends, and they think I'm alright, and that's cool with me.

I have been listening to Led Zeppelin a lot lately.