Falling off the Earth.

I have received many emails about why I am not writing anymore.

Having a second child has rocked my world. I keep meaning to write, keep mentally filing away snippets of my day to write about yet I struggle with finding the time to do it.

I am busier then I have ever been in my life running after these two children.

The Deuce is almost 10 months old (can you believe it?) and The Dictator is 3.25 years old.

My little Dictator is the biggest ray of sunshine ever.  He is a painfully nice kid, minds his manners and is as funny as his Dad. People just do things for him. Random people give him things. He has this aura around him that makes everyone happy. If it is a cloudy day, the one lone ray of sun will find him and shine on him.

The Deuce is busy, BIG (only 4 pounds separate her and the 3 year old), a bit of a bully, noisy, and always freaking happy. She giggles like a schoolgirl and bounces on you like a damn trampoline. She is so darn fat and cuddly and delicious.

They are so much alike, yet so very different.

The other thing I have been working on for the last few months is my own business. An old friend of mine and I have started an event rental company that specializes in linens, chair covers and the like. If it is a fabric, we can do it.

So thats all for now, but now that I have broken the seal on the not blogging I am sure I will be back here soon. In the meantime, there is some painful cuteness for all to see below.

Yeah, they are cute.

Scene 1: Wednesday night around 5:30pm after dropping Deuce off at Grandma Claire’s house. The weather is miserable and it is dark out. Mommy (me) is driving the MazdaCar while Dictator is jabbering to me from the backseat. We are on our way to a special Mommy/Dictator only dinner and then off to pre-school registration.

Dictator: Can I see a big yellow dog?

Mommy: If I see a big yellow dog I will point it out to you.

Dictator: Can I see a big black dog?

Mommy: If I see a big black dog Mommy can point it out to you.

Dictator: I never seen a blue dog before.

Mommy: No peanut, Mommy has never seen a blue dog before either.

Dictator: Dictator wants to see a blue dog.

Mommy: If I ever see a blue dog I will let you know OK?

Scene 2: Thursday 8:30am Mommy is in the shower, Deuce is dozing peacefully in the swing after her morning feeding and Dictator is busy playing trucks on the main floor. We are getting ready to meet a friend and do some shopping for the morning.

Dictator enters Mommy’s master bathroom.

Dictator: Dictator has never seen a blue dog before.

Mommy: Neither have I buddy (continue scrubbing shampoo in to head)

Dictator: Dictator has seen a purple dog.

Mommy thinks anything is possible with TV now at days and thinks nothing of it.

Mommy: Really? Where have you seen a purple dog?

Dictator: Dictator seen a red one too.

Mommy: That’s nice dear, are they on TV right now?

Dictator: No they are on Paprika!  LOOK IT HERE!!!!! WHATS GOING ON HERE???!!! (because he says ‘whats going on here’ all the time this week)


Artistic rendition of painted dog.


  • My son didn’t care if he ever saw a blue dog, purple and red would do.
  • He obviously thought Mommy’s red toenails are pretty since he drew some on the dog.
  • Crayola washable markers may not come out of your dogs hair with just water – BUT a phone call to the lovely people at Crayola will tell you that copious amounts dish-soap will do wonders in this situation.
  • Given the speed of response from the Crayola staff they OBVIOUSLY had this question a number of times before.
  • The dude at Crayola laughed when he heard the dog was white (originally;  before the art experiment) and thought that it was an inviting blank canvas for a child to work on.
  • Paprika is obviously a patient (and NICE) dog to sit through the amount of coloring that was done in the 5 minutes I had been in the shower.
  • My son may have a future as a hairdresser given the nicely spaced out hi-lights that the dog was given. And because he loves shoes and purses…
  • I am an idiot for not taking a real photo before washing the dog.
  • My dog now smells like Palmolive soap – original formulation.


I have not taken the markers out of reach because they are so totally washable, and I just can’t make material like this up so I need to let my 2 year old be the funny one.

Potty training The Dictator has taken up all of my past week. I had no idea that getting one little boy to whizz in a toilet could be so time consuming. BUT we still have one small problem. He will not poop in the potty.

Getting The Dictator to pee in the potty full time (even in underwear overnight) was easy, almost too easy. Stewart and I used simple bribery in the form of Potty Claus (you know Santa’s brother who really likes toilets but not in a creepy way?) and getting him to unwrap a present every time he initiated using the potty himself (my previous method of potty training was based on The Relentless Nagging Technique).  On February 10th we unwrapped the first (and so far LAST) big present for pooping in the potty. Yet he will not poop again.

We are in underwear full time because I thought he would hate the feeling of poop in his underwear. Pffftttt…

Tonight I gave him some prune/apple juice to hopefully loosen things up so tomorrow will not hurt and maybe he will want to go in the toilet. If not then I will need to hire a real life Shit Ninja to poop train this little man.

Thankfully, even as a baby he would never poop anywhere but at home and it seems like he is still hanging onto that habit. Because what do you even do with a shit filled pair of TowMater underwear in public? Ick.

The Deuce is shaping up to be The Most Awesome Baby. She is a big girl now, HUGE actually and sleeps through the night (and not the 6 hours through the night the parenting books talk about, I am talking 10 hours straight, getting up to eat and sleeping 2 more hours) which is nice because I am much more rested and productive right now.

The last couple days after The Deuce gets up to eat (~6:30m-ish) I have been going to the basement and putting about 45 minutes in on my Tony Little Gazelle machine before The Dictator gets up. This is great because I am not using naptime to exercise, and lets face it at 7am I have a hard time going back to bed for less then 1 hour of sleep. Also I have an hour alone with The Dictator before The Deuce gets up to eat again, which means once The Dictator is fed I have some time to get the morning chores out of the way and have a shower myself.

Sadly when I got on my Gazelle (which has been hiding in the storage room for 2 years – yeek!) I realized that my ass is on The Big Side. How big?



Not good for the ego ‘yo.

Could be worse though I could have Tony Little’s Hair or Creepy Smile.


How old am I? Like 12?

Goodness it was hard to get a pic of the hair. These kinda suck since they were taken with Photo Booth (Mac users thing)  and the resolution is poor. Also, every face-on photo I took made me look like I was 12 years old; which I know most people wouldn’t complain about at the ripe age of 32 but come on

Once Stewart is feeling up to it I will post better photos taken with a real camera. 

I have to say this hair takes about 2-3 minutes with the hairdryer and I am out the door. After a full day of chasing kids and running around it still looks the same (as opposed to the drowned rat look I was sporting). Needless to say, I am quite happy with it and it looks a quite a bit better in person. 


Yes, my bedroom is a SUPER dark grey (Behr 790F-4 Creek Bend). Looks hot after over 4 years of use. Highly recommend dark colors. 

Ok the next one is a bit better face shape wise after a full day of wear and some sleeping on the couch with the Worlds Sweetest Baby Girl. And chasing The Dictator. And some cuddling with Stewart. Ooohhh the coloring sucks – I look like there are massive bags under my eyes. Although at 11pm there just may be…. 


Anything that makes my triangle shaped face (the official diagnosis from the ‘Master stylist’ who was impressively good) look oval is fine by me. Sadly if I was a man I would be considered ‘chiseled’. Not hot on a chick.

I know that some of my readers are waiting to see what I am doing with my hair (and one chicken shit is waiting for me to cut it off so she can see how it looks on her)  and the decision has been made.

Monday at 10:15am here in HickVille City there will be a apprehensive Mom at a Salon/Spa waiting to CUT HER HAIR OFF. Also? Having a fancy hot stone pedicure because a girl needs to soften the blow of cutting off 7 inches of hair. 

The results were as follows:

Option 2 (bob it with short bangs) 10 votes

Option 1 (leave it longer) 8 votes

Option 4 (cut it all off) 8 votes

Option 3 (bob it with long bangs) 7 votes

Option 2 was the Clear Winner of this contest. Now looking at the results you would think it was a close race between Options #2, #1, #4 BUT on further examination Stewart admitted to voting for Option#1 (typical man liking long hair) and ………ummmmm….. so did I. I am such a pussy. I know! Bad me trying to skew the results. So really longer hair only got 6 valid votes. That brings it down to Options #2 and #4, cutting it all off seems like a little too much maintenence for me right now and bangs scare me since I finally grew the damn things out AND I hate having anything on my forehead when I sleep (and hairbands fall off my shrunken head so they don’t work at nighttime). 

So clearly the winner is option #3 – bob it off with long bangs (that I can pull back on lazy days) which was actually the losing option. 

What I really am going to do I go into the salon where I have booked a Master Stylist for an hour and have them help me decide if taking the plunge to bangs is worth it. In my mind I think keeping the bangs long is better – since if I don’t like them long I can easily cut them off. Whereas growing the buggers back out will just cause 5 months of bitching and misery by yours truly. And then you got to read about it. Lucky you.

The funny thing is I am looking forward to the haircut. Usually when I chop it off it is impulsive – but this time since I had to wait for an appointment and get the votes from you guys I feel well prepared and excited. 

Stay tuned for pictures (which will be taken AFTER I dye the grey out of my hair).

I visited a really old friend of mine last week (my best friend from grades 6-7 until she moved away) who just had her first baby, a sweet little boy named Ben. When she was hugely pregnant she had many fears and expectations of being a parent and was not afraid to talk about them. Being her one friend with a child we talked at length (over pedicures at an awesome spa/salon) about her fears and expectations. It was nice to realize that I wasn’t the only person who believed many things, and expected many more. Having my second child on the way at the time, I must admit my views on raising children were radically changed from my first time around.

I remember these all too well for myself, and I remember how long it took me to feel like I had my legs under me again after the birth of The Dictator. Thankfully, my friend seems to be coping well and has already abandoned some of the bullshit ideas we all have in our head before that first child is born.

Before you have that first child you have all these ideas (or ideals) in your mind. My expectations and the ensuing reality went something like this:

I will breastfeed exclusivelyMy kid needs formula since I hacked my boobs off in 2001. Yes it sucks in a way, but it is also quite nice to have a partner that can feed a child while you do other things for the family.

My child will be an excellent sleeper and on a schedule. The Deuce is an awesome sleeper already, The Dictator didn’t sleep through the night until 18 months of age. 

He/She will never cry in public. They cry in public, sometimes for the dumbest reasons (today it was because The Dictator wanted a Ninja Sticker, WTF???). 

He/She will never have a temper tantrum in public. Thankfully full-on tantrums in public are rare. Bad behavior and not listening is much more common.

I will never take him/her out in public wearing pajamas. I have left the house with The Deuce in jammies once. Only once. The Dictator has never gone out in jammies, not even as a baby. I really am not cool with my kids wearing pajamas all day. But that is just me.

My child will not be addicted to any one TV show. I know almost every episode of The Backyardigans by heart. The Dictator loves The Backyardigans (so do Stewart and I) and also Finding Nemo. He also loves TowMater from Cars but will not watch the movie – go figure. Having a go-to show for a kid is a necessity and a sanity saver for a busy parent who likes to shower somewhat regularly.

There will be a minimal amount of toys in the house. There are A TON OF TOYS in my house. Hence the new playroom in the basement and the copious amount of toy storage on the main floor. I am in desperate need of a garage sale but since there is one more kid to use these toys I don’t see that happening any time soon.

No soothers. It took forever for me to get the courage to take away The Dictators soother. The Deuce – sadly – is not so keen on having a soother and much prefers my somewhat non-functioning boobs for soothing.

No McDonalds or fast food lunchesThe Dictator will only eat potatoes if they come in the form of McDonalds fries. Needless to say he doesn’t eat potatoes very often…

I will cook everything from scratch – free range or organic if possible. I do make many many many many meals from scratch, including breakfast and lunches. Not free range and organic at all though – groceries are expensive enough as it is.

They will eat what we eat at meal times. The Dictator seems to think I am a short order cook and doesn’t always eat what we do. it is getting better though and now he eats modified versions of our meals most nights.

I will involve them in classes to help them learnI did some classes with The Dictator – they were too expensive. Like Gymboree. 140$ to run around 45 minutes a week? GAH! I learned playing with my kids teaches them much more then any class could.

I will shower each and everydayI will shower every second day at this point. And be thankful that I did.

I will not be that Mom in yoga pants and a ponytail at the grocery store. Dude, I need a Lululemon closer to me – since that is all I wear now. Ponytail? Yes! I still have long hair and not enough balls to cut it yet.

What I want to know is what expectations did you have before having children, and what is your reality?

Ass Fattage

Why is it when I am bored I decide I want to eat?

Why is it that I want to eat pure crap food?

Why can’t I just crave celery and carrot sticks?


WHY oh WHY must it go straight to my flabdomen? 

Of course this happens when the only thing on my mind other then junk food is how badly I would like to get a pair of James Jeans or some Paige Premium Denim. Sadly they don’t make those in super lard ass size. 

Also, I need at least 20 votes to consider the hair poll valid. So far you either want me to leave it long or chop it all off. SO ummmm… yeah, thanks a ton I am still where I started NOT KNOWING WHAT TO DO WITH MY HAIR.

Now for some cute and funny: 

The Dictator has been perfecting his ‘Rock and Roll Scream’. Although this is a vital skill for all RockStars Mommy would prefer he didn’t practice this all day and night; and certainly not when The Deuce is sleeping.

Actually lets call it a RockAndRollScream all one word since that is how The Dictator prefers to say it.

Next he will be trashing Hotel Rooms and charging up room service bills ordering OJ, Sausage and Cucumbers (the favorite foods this week).

I need help. SO for those of you using a feed reader – click on through to this post!

My hair is driving me bat-shit crazy and I really don’t know quite what to do with it.

Normally, I would submit my hair dilemma to Whoorl at Hair Thursday and let her and the Internets make a decision but I have two small problems with that:

  • The girl has a HUGE waiting list for hair help (hey she is good)
  • I am impulsive and waiting even a week is too long for me when I get the haircut bug, it has to go ASAP!

So it is up to you (yes YOU right there!!!) my readers to vote on what I should do (also please leave a comment with any links/suggestions you may have for me).

First My Hair:

It is fine but there is lots of it, poker strait, shoulder length with some chin length layers (end of nose length bangs) and annoyingly soft (even if I tease the shit out of it the teasing and knots come out within the hour). Naturally dark brown with a touch of red in it, and about 10 -15% grey. My grey hairs are annoying because they stick strait up  like a misbehaved pubic hair (lovely I know).

Currently my hair has these layers which I never wanted but some dipstick hairdresser cut them in to give me “movement and body”. All the layers have succeeded in doing is making my ends look ragged and sparse no matter how healthy they are. Sadly my regular hairdresser ran off to Australia for a year (hence the Movement and Body issue).

This is where I am at now, on a good hair day:


In the past 2.5 years I have also done this to my hair:

#1 Short Hair in Layers, Bangs

#1 Short Hair in Layers, Bangs

#2 Glorified Mullett - a nightmare to grow out

#2 Glorified Mullett - a nightmare to grow out

#3 Grown out Short Hair with Layers

#3 Grown out Short Hair with Layers

#4 The Classic "Look I am a Mom now Bob"

#4 The Classic "Look I am a Mom now Bob"

#5 A typical day, longer with the front pulled back into "The Yorkie"

#5 A typical day, longer with the front pulled back into "The Yorkie"

So it is up to you (yes YOU right there!!!) my readers to vote on what I should do (also please leave a comment with any links/suggestions you may have for me).

The Hair Low Down:

I currently wash and blow dry my hair every second day. I am partial to keeping it a dark brown color; mostly because I am too lazy to deal with the expence and upkeep of hi-lights.

I have a cowlick on the right side of my head right were my bangs should be. This cowlick can be blown out easy enough, and it lies pretty straight when my bangs are longer. If someone was to suggest bangs for me I would ask that they be at a length that will not get in the way of my glasses when I wear them, and that they are long enough to pull back into “The Yorkie” like in the above picture (especially useful on the day after I wash/blowdry my hair).

My hair will part wherever I tell it to. Obviously I am not afraid of cutting it all off (BUT I hate the growing out process) and I am very OK with keeping it long (because nothing is easier then a ponytail when hanging around the house with the kids). I just want my hair to look finished when I do decide to put the effort into doing it. I am also quite good with a hairdryer and a straitening iron so using tools now and then does not scare me.

What I like and You can choose from: unless you have a suggestion then go for it in the comments!

#1 Keep it longer just grow out some of the mess

#1 Keep it longer just grow out some of the mess

#2 Bob it off and get some short side bangs

#2 Bob it off and get some short side bangs

#3 Bob it off with long bangs

#3 Bob it off with long bangs

#4 Give Stewart a heart attack and chop it off again

#4 Give Stewart a heart attack and chop it off again

Now Go forth and Vote!!!

Hey all. 

It is de-lurking day, so leave me a comment so I can find some new blogs to read. Even if you have commented before feel free to comment again so I can come  visit you online. 

Now I am off, an almost always hungry 5 week old is waiting for me. 


A few people have emailed me for the details of The Deuce’s birth, and since all of us women are nosy that way I may as well share everything I remember.

2 Weeks Before Birth:

My OB/GYN was considering an induction but was concerned that the baby may be too small to induce at my due date (The Dictator was 2 weeks late and still only 7 pounds) and ordered an ultrasound to confirm birth size. Normally in Hickville City ultrasounds are a privatized business and you have to go to either MIC or Insight to get them done. Neither could get me in before my due date so I was booked at the hospital to have it done on December 2nd; in hospital they also do a stress test with the ultrasound (thank goodness as you will see).

Start gaining the first of 14 pounds that I will gain in the last two weeks.

2 or 3 Days Before Birth:

I started skipping meals and getting hella dizzy with bad headaches. I just figured this meant that the baby was coming soon and ignored it. Also The Dictator had been sick with the flu for 4 days by this time.

December 2nd 1pm:

Enter hospital for ultrasound. Ultrasound indicates the baby is between 8 pounds 12 ounces and 10 pounds. Ultrasound also shows an amazing amount of amniotic fluid – so much that 3 ultrasound techs came into the room to double check what they just saw.

Me? Shocked at the shitting big baby I was going to be having some day soon.

December 2nd 2:15pm:

Park my but in a hospital bed for stress test. Four of us are in the case room having this done at the same time. Read Twilight while getting tested. No worries.

December 2nd 2:18pm:

Shocked when I see my blood pressure reading 174/101 on the monitor.

I usually have low low blood pressure in the 110/60 range. Figure machine is busted.

December 2nd 3:30pm:

Nurse comes in and sends the other 3 women home. Then she points at me and says she just put a STAT call into the Doctor to come see me. I start thinking that maybe I will be having this baby tonight. Also: start to panic. The Doctor who delivered the Dictator with some glorified salad tongs (and sewed up my 28 stitch disaster down south) comes in and expresses a lot of concern over the amount of fluid versus the high blood pressures and the lack of fetal movement in the stress test. He feels it is highly likely that my placenta is about to rupture and orders more bloodwork and puts me on strict bedrest. I couldn’t even walk down the hallway to the next room they put me in.

December 2nd 3:45pm – 5:15pm:

Call Stewart at work and tell him something is wrong. Stewart runs home, organizes the Grandmas to be with The Dictator, showers, gets the half packed hospital bag sorted out  and eats some crap fast food. My Mom drives him to the hospital since my car is already parked there. Meanwhile I am being treated like a human pincushion with all the tests and blood-work that is being done. The Doctor comes back with a heavy dose of Aspirin because of concern of me having a stroke with the high blood pressure and dizziness. Also? I am just slightly freaking out and anxious.

Normally I don’t do the freak out anxiety thing at all.

December 2nd 5:15- 5:30pm:

Stewart arrives. At 6pm they move me to Labour and Delivery for an induction. At 7:30 pm they finally get an IV that works started. Contractions start fast.

Stewart eats a bag a plain potato chips. Smell grosses me out and I make him go brush his teeth before coming near me again.

December 2nd 11pm:

I ask for the epidural before they break my water. Relief at last. My water is broken and there is SO MUCH that my socks at the end of the bed end up soaked. Stewart takes my socks off and tosses them in the garbage. Within 30 minutes the epidural starts to wear off. Doctor comes back for a top off of the meds – pain relief is short lived and wears off yet again (just like it did for the Dictator) Only my boobs (????) and a small patch of skin on my stomach remains frozen. Stewart starts asking for help since I am in so much pain – not much they can really do at this point and I should know better then expect the painkillers to work (Novacaine doesn’t work at the dentist for me either – go figure). Stewart then asks if he can do anything for me. I send him to the corner to listen to his iPod, because really what can you do right?

December 3rd 2:30am:

Decide to start pushing soon, pushing starts at around 2:40 am. At 3:00am I am told to stop pushing becuase the baby is coming out fast and they need the Doctor.

December 3rd 3:09am:

The Deuce is born. This time I acutally get to hold my baby after they are born (Dictator needed medical intervention after his birth) and Stewart gets to cut the cord for the first time ever (Dictator had to get help fast so we didn’t do the cord cutting thing). Nurse removes epidural and discovers that the Anesthetist had only inserted it an inch into may back THEREFORE it did not work properly.

Thanks for that Dr. Dingaling, I shall never forget YOU!

Ouch. But, YAY only 3 stitches. She was only 7 pounds 12 ounces – thank goodness!

The Condition:

I was diagnosed with Polyhydramniosis which is found in about 0.5% of pregnancies. This is diagnosed when you have well over 2000mL of amniotic fluid (the baby is supposed to be swallowing the fluid and should only have 800mL at 40 weeks gestation). Many times this is diagnosed it is because of Diabetes in the Mother (not something that I have a problem with) or abnormalities with the baby. Causes of this condition include:

  • Gastrointestinal abnormalities
  • Chromosomal Abnormalities such as Down’s Syndrome or Edwards Syndrome (which was a very small outside concern for us after an irregular ultrasound @ 20 weeks).
  • Neurological abnormalities such as Anencephaly
  • Benign tumors in the placenta
  • Central nervous system leisions (spina bifida is one)
  • VACTERL Syndrome – a condition that actually exists in my family. It consists of the following problems:  vertebral column anomalies (V), anal atresia (no but-hole) (A), congenital heart defects (C), tracheoesophageal defects (TE), renal and distal urinary tract anomalies (R), and limb abnormalities (L). I have a cousin with this who now leads a reasonably normal life (with one arm and digestive problems).

In a recent study results showed that 38% if babies born to mothers with this condition have fetal abnormalities, 7% passed away and average APGAR scores were between 3 and 5. Needless to say we are relieved that our baby is perfectly healthy – because even though about 50% end up healthy and normal those odds are still too high for me.