May 16th, 2012
You know how some bloggers only post attractive pictures of themselves? NOT THIS BLOGGER!
Check this out:
OK! So I had to buy this for a few reasons:
One: The socks.
Two: Age 2.
Three: The bags under my eyes are growing increasingly more envious of my double-chin. I just needed proof. I have it now.
Four: It appears I’m molesting my left nipple.
Five: My KT Tape is showing. (Proof I should not have “run” on Sunday. Run is in quotes because I hobbled through this race. It was a 4-mile race. Four miles is pretty easy for me these days. I welcome a 4-mile run. But I’d run a pretty decent 10K the day before so my legs were screaming. I needed to recover. Also: I got my period on Saturday morning.)
Six: It looks like I might be having an allergic reaction to shellfish.
Seven: I look like The Joker.
Eight: I apparently have gills.
Overall this image is a whole lotta unawesome, which makes it thoroughly more awesome. So I had to buy it and share it.
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January 6th, 2012
A little over a month ago, a Friday, I was sitting on the couch with Toby when I told him to turn the TV down. “It’s too loud. It’s going to wake up the kids.”
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December 13th, 2011
Em asked for three things this Christmas: “Spiderman stuff”, binoculars and a skateboard. I’m not sure what he has planned, exactly. I’m assuming it doesn’t entail dressing up like Spiderman, hitting the streets and peeping into windows. Not that I know anything about that. I prefer do my peeping from the comforts of our couch. But whatever his plans may be, he wants these three things. So these three things he shall have.
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November 18th, 2011
I served Joe Paterno a grilled Sticky once. I worked as a waitress at The Diner. He came in one morning and sat at the counter. My coworkers excitedly pointed him out, “THAT’S JOE PATERNO! You have JoePa in your section!”
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October 27th, 2011
(This might be the most boring post I’ve ever written. But I wanted to put it out there on the off chance another person is suffering as well.)
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July 28th, 2011
We live on the fifth floor of an apartment building that overlooks several houses and backyards. We chose the fifth floor because of the view. And over the years we’ve gotten to know the people who make up that view even though they have no idea who we are. I take a great deal of comfort in this view and the people who live here. It’s like a rerun, an old movie, a longtime friend.
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February 27th, 2011
Forgive me for any grammar/spelling errors in advance. I’m writing this quickly as I am paying a woman decent money to come over, look at my boobs and help me figure out how to make them feel better. How I will get through this awkward meeting without booze? No clue. But getting drunk and working on one’s latch in order to feed a newborn doesn’t seem like such a great idea. So, I’m going to sit through this meeting sober.
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February 17th, 2011
I had my 41-week appointment on Tuesday. I’m still pregnant. I’m 2.5 centimeters dilated. Nothing much else has changed. My doctor went ahead and stripped the membrane again. I requested it, even though I am sick with a terrible cold. And while the idea of going into labor and having to push with snot flying out of my face makes me kinda wanna die, I am ready to be done with this.
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February 3rd, 2011
My brother and his wife sent me a gift in the mail. I received it today. It made me cry.
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January 19th, 2011
Today’s therapy session went well. Although, I really have no idea what “well” means when it comes to therapy. Basically, she got to know me better. We discussed the way I felt after Emory was born. We discussed the miscarriage and how that experience changed me. We discussed infertility. We discussed how I feel about introducing another person to Emory, how I feel about having another child at all. Everything went smoothly, as expected. But at the very end of our session she said something that has me thinking long and hard.
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