Pregnant Beeches be CRAY-ZAY!

Beeches. as in multiple Beech trees.

i'm sure they're all mentally unsound when they are with child.


AS AM I.

my hormones are taking over and it's alarming how very OK with it i am...... devilish grin. smiley face.

Tiny Example: i'm eating my Feelings in the form of Chocolate Ice Cream and a Strawberry Lemon-Cream cupcake. the flavors dont exactly mix but i'm shoveling it in so fast that i don't care.

Medium Example: Started crying uncontrollably while listening to this song in the car and thinking about my husband, son, and unborn child-

pretty self explanatory really.

Large Example: A week and a half ago someone stole our trash can from out in front of our house after the garbage truck came by. A day later my husband spotted it sitting in plain sight in our next door neighbor's back yard. (this is the same family that claims "Chris", name changed to protect his identity.... like i care... who stole all the food out of our pantry, cleaned out boxes of frozen meats from our freezer, his girlfriend stole my favorite brand new unused shampoo and conditioner, trashed our back yard, and left my kitchen a sticky mess.) to be clear, OUR trash can is light light light grey with a forest green lid. all of THEIR trash cans are black, lid-less, and have their address painted on the side. so there was no reason to believe that it was an "honest mistake of identity". those Triflin' Bitches straight up stole it. and that Friday, at the next garbage pick up the can didn't come back out front. by Monday, the Piss and also the Vinegar had built up inside me, and heated to the boiling point or whatever the cliche is. so the Hubby and i started to make plans.

     Plan A: Steal the trash can back in the night... as their back fence's gate is broken and has been laying on the ground for months now. However, i frown on trespassing. in Texas, Trespassing on private property CAN and USUALLY WILL involve the use of Firearms. Preggo Krista ain't into it.

     Plan B: Take our trash bags over and put them in OUR can during the light of day. If we were caught, we'd say something dumb like "oh, don't mind me. just using MY trash can that MaGiCaLLy lives in YOUR backyard now"

     Plan C: Knock on their front door, and when they open it hand them our trash bags and ask if they can put it in our trash can that they stole.

GENIOUS PREGNANT KRISTA went with Plan D.

     Plan D: in a fit of rage, take the trash bag out of the front yard where it was ready for the next morning's pick up, take it to my backyard, and hurl it wildly and loudly AT my trash can next door.

This ultimately proved to be the most effective plan. A wild animal tore open the bag that night (which had landed.... Near.... my trash can), which resulted in Ronin's used UNHOLY ANATHEMA-filled diapers being strewn across their yard. Muah. Ha. Ha.

What happened?

they waited until about 5pm or so.... then "cleaned" it up by dumping it all in our trash can, and they deposited it back in front of our houses.

so, bottom line: hooray for hormones. they let me DO WHAT I WANT!!

tell you what though, this is Krista's LAST pregnancy. ever. sorry Hubby, i know you wanted one thousand babies. kiss your dream of the last 998 goodbye. it aint happening.

Reason 1: I severely detest giving myself a shot every day.... even though it "prevents" possible blood-clot related Mommy Death.

Reason 2: as my belly gets bigger i find that i can no longer comfortably pee with my knees together. gotta pee like a man pooping.... knees apart. which doesn't help my already laughable Urine Aiming Talent that like most women, i suffer from.

Reason 3: I'M TIRED!!

Reason 4: If my boobs get bigger with each pregnancy, and they're THIS HUGE on THIS one at only 17 weeks in, then i'm going to snap my spine trying to hold them up if i get knocked up again. As it is, i'm overly nervous about when my "milk comes in". Although, my Hubby ASSURES ME that my heaven-sent sweater-puppies are in fact devine.

Reason 5: My husband has VICIOUS MUTANT MURDER-SPERM. you saw how my last kid turned out. He was (and is) perfect and handsome and utterly endearing and sweet. but he did try his best to mutilate me in the process of his glorious entrance into the World of the Living. This next kid might have me pushing up daisies as it is; finish what it's brother started. and..... i'm too..... fun to die? Funny? friendly? random? uhhhhhhhh i'm definitely too SOMETHING to die. i don't know. let me know if you have something that can fit here: "Krista is too ________ to die."

And to close, one of my personal favorite endings....

10 Cute Things That Ronin has done Lately:

1. The "i'm pulling it from a Full Cry-Face to see if you're still watching" Cry Face.

2. Ronin has switched from calling me Mom to MOMMY! in varying degrees of volume which i find impossibly endearing.

3. He like to crawl under to covers with me and we both say "Comfy Cozy!" which, coming out of his mouth sounds like "domdy dohdy".

4. Put a paper bag over his face and put his hands and face through the hole it'd cut out of it for him, then walked around the house, bumping into things saying "i dee do dobot" (translation: i am a robot).

5. He likes to "play" with the kittens with their new Feathers-on-a-stick toy. Well, he calls it play, Mike and I call it Potential Vet Hospital Emergency visit. He also likes to project his LED light stars up on the wall for Mischief to bat at.

6. Speaking of cats, Ronin's favorite game is "Ronin's A Kitty"! he crawls along the top of the couch going "meowme meowme" meowmommy"...... 

7. He likes to play Tents with Papa. they climb up on Mama and Papa's Big Bed and Ronin says Tent! Tent Papa! Mike pulls the covers up and over then and then all i hear for the next 5 to 10 minutes or so is hushed giggles and "sillly papa" from the other room.

8. So that The Simpsons's opening theme song is one of Ronin's favorite songs. and now he's interactive with it. He'll also point at the door to the music room for Lisa to leave!

9. Ronin has been giving the Baby (encased in it's bump on my belly) a kiss every night before bed time. the other afternoon we were just cuddling on the couch and i said "Ronin, where's the baby?"

he reaches over and pats my tummy saying "BeeeeBee Mommy". then he LEANS IN and puts his cheek next to my belly and puts his arms around me so he could give the baby his first hug from his big brother. i LOVED it soooooooooo much.

10 a few nights ago Mike and I put on Ronin's ULTIMATE FAVORITE SONG; The Credit Song for Portal 1 called "Still Alive" shown here:

the song itsself starts at 45ish seconds into the clip. it's cute, it's short, hell..... i'ts MY favorite song too.

so we put this on and Ronin squeals in the delight, he holds onto the Kindle that it's playing on, and proceeds to spin around and around i can only suppose out of joy.... though me might be trying to initiate a sudden acute onset of Vertigo. but it was so cute. even after he sat down because he was too dizzy, it wasn't enough so when he fell onto his side that's where he ended up watching the last few notes.

Bastard Mini-blinds had it comin'

I'm becoming more and more like my husband every day.

Today I broke nay, shattered, the second set of mini-blinds in our apartment within two weeks. The first set i sic'd the vacuum on. This set I took out with sheer brute force. I guess I just felt like flexing The Hounds otherwise known as my beastly forearms. Anyway. They had it coming.

Kept giving me the stank eye.


Internet scammers are stupid.

I put up a post on Craigslist in hopes of selling the $6,400 dollar diamond ring that I got stuck paying for 4 years ago, and the only responses I've gotten have been from dumbasses that are trying to get one over on me.

Since WHEN do WOMEN offer to buy a ring advertised for $5000 MORE than the asking price for a "dear friend", and need it shipped overseas, and they always ask for my PayPal account and never give a shipping address. Dumb. Just how stupid do you have to be to get suckered into getting your money stolen on the interwebs...

I just wish someone that was ACTUALLY interested in buying the ring would email me.


anywho.

I dunno. I thought about doing a full-out post, but I'm just too tired. My Perfect Darling Angel Child had a hard day today which translates to me holding him most of the day so I'm bushed.

Like two birds.


Krista's Thoughts Before Bedtime:

1.) The superbowl is stupid. I miss football. Actual. Football. College ball. High School ball. I miss when it was exciting and junk and not about over-the-top pageantry and commercials and commentary. Blood, sweat, and that Hometown feeling. sigh.

2.) Forget pet brushes; my run-of-the-mill hair comb works better for taming my little lions' fur.

3.) Today Ronin got to be Spock. He hurt his little fingers and the way I bandaged them up made him look like he was telling people to "live long and prosper" all day.

4.) Two people told me that I look skinny today. And they're not related to me. Win.

5.) I ate healthy food at the superbowl party today. By default. Ronin wanted to play with the veggies, but he wouldn't eat them; he instead put them in my mouth and laughed while I ate them. Then he stole the fried mozzarella cheese stick out of my hand and ate it before I could get more than one bite in. What a sweet boy, helping mama stay skinny.

6.) Damn that Kardashian woman and her impossibly perky perfect body. No one can live up to that physical standard. Well, no one who's name is Krista Custer who's had a kid and whose skin is riddled with deep purple stretch marks. Did I just make you throw up a little bit?

7.) I've decided, after watching it non-stop this Saturday, that I am officially a Gleek and will be watching the show for the forseeable future.

8.) I think I'm ready for menopause. Mood swings are one of God's cruelest jokes. That and the poor platypus. The kids at school must have really had a field day making fun of him.

9.) I wish my hair would grow faster. I wish it were more like that of a football player's hair; long, flowing, majestic.

10) It must be terrible to be a janitor that works after the superbowl ends. All that confetti. All that glitter. All that spilled beer. All that puke...

When I Grow Up I Think I'll Be...

I've been thinking a lot about what I'd like to do when I decide it's time to go back into the "actually pays money" workforce.

I mean, I LOVE being a full-time mommy and all, but getting paid in Soggy Diapers and Booger Slime Nose Surprise kind of gets a little.... "not money"-ey sometimes.

And I have big plans for the dinero sitting in my bank account, all lonely and forgotten. It needs to be added to, eventually, so that I can achieve those dreams.

But I digress.

Here are the options I've come up with so far:

1) Bouncer/Fight Breaker Upper on a "Spoiled Rich Girl Learns Life Lessons" reality show. This might just be the easiest job in the world. When they start screaming at each other over "who drank who's boxed wine" and throwing marinara sauce on each other, I'd hop in there and dominate. They may fight back, but they couldn't possibly expect to win or even hurt me. These girls have ZERO muscular strength from refraining from all manual labor more strenuous than sexting their boyfriends. And even if they did try to scrap with me, the fight would be over the minute I scuffed their Jimmy Choos or broke one of their nails. Or pulled out their fake hair tracts. Although I'd probably throw some good punches their way anyway to help them learn that "violence doesn't solve your boxed wine crisis". They wouldn't stand a chance against me. I lift my 20 pound Wonder Son all day; I'm a veritable beast.  Bottom Line: Someone's gotta keep those whiny anorexic bitches in check.

2) Camera Woman/ Technician for any "Survivor" type reality show.  I'd be all up the wilderness, filming these starved, half crazed, game players, GRUBBIN' ON MASS AMOUNTS OF CHEESEBURGERS. There's really no rhyme or reason as to why I want this job, other than my desire to do it for the irony. I want to watch these people's faces as I stand there filming them, deliberately chewing ever so slowly on a double decker extra bacon cheesy cheesy cheeseburger. With fries. Maybe a cherry turnover. And definitely a cupcake. Maybe two.

Which brings me to my third and most coveted position of...

3) Cake Taste-Tester/Judge on ANY Baking reality show. I WANT THIS JOB most of all. Imagine, me, sitting on a cozy little stool, cuddled up to plate after plate of delicate, moise, expertly prepared and cleverly presented cake...
O. M. Geezus it would be perfect. Devil's Food, Italian Cream, Southern Lemon.... the list goes on and on. And so does the string of drool from my chin. I know what you're thinking. "But Krista, you like ALL kinds of cake; and the job is to judge the good and bad of the Caking World; wouldn't you just say that they're all wonderful?"
To that I say, not so. Every 8th plate of cake, or so, I'd act completely disgusted and enraged by whatever slice of red velvet just happened to be the unlucky victim of my rage. I'd raise Cain, throwing the unsuspecting cake to the floor, stomping it to all smithereens, then using the plate it came on to beat the poor baker's kneecaps in and bite off his or her ear; thereby securing my job for the future, and cementing my reputation as The Authority On All Things Delicous And Of Cake.



So those are the Fields of expertise that I'm looking into. Let me know which one you'd chose, and which one you think I would thrive in the best.


In other news, my kid is being kind of funny this week. He's trying....new things.

Ronin's Top Seven New Actions That Make Me Laugh:

1. I keep finding him pulling out little pieces of carpet and quickly trying to shove them in his mouth to eat them before I can stop him.

2. Ditto for cat food. The cats knock a few pieces out of their bowl and he has amazing homing-device-like ability when it comes to locating and eating the renegade Ocean Delight nuggets. Sometimes, I'm not fast enough and he ends up successfully eating the cat food. I guess it must be good because he keeps going back for more.

3. I have the coffee table pushed up flush with the couch. He "tap dances" on the coffee table, then dives face first into the couch cushions. This cracks him up. He does it again and again; it's our new favorite game.

4. He attempts to do somersaults on the floor. He gets his head down on the carpet, one hand on either side, and straightens his legs putting his little booty high up in the air. He teeters precariously from side to side for a while, and then kind of flops limply to one side. He'll be the next Paul Hamm.

5.  When I have the refrigerator open he runs over and takes the lettuce out, and puts it back in, and takes it out, and puts it back in, and takes it out, and puts it back in...

6.  If I hand him anything soft (blanket, pillow, stuffed animal, Pillow Pal, jacket...) he holds it up to his cheek and cuddles it, melting into it until he's in the Fetal Position just grinning away and cuddling his Soft Thing. This goes for our cats too, if they make the mistake of getting within arm's reach of him.

7. Ronin likes to "pet" me now. I taught him how to gently pet our cats; to caress them instead of pulling their fur, and I guess he thinks that the same goes for Mama. He sits in my lap and strokes my shin. He'll kind of rub the side of my face if I'm holding him. I love it. It's as if he's saying "there's a good mommy. Sweet Mommy. Nice Mommy."


Thanks for reading! Don't forget to comment so that I know which path to take my career in.

Urine: Proof of a Good Time

first and foremost, a HUGE happy slightly slimey shout-out to Pam, my 16th Follower here on Blogger. welcome to the tiny family of blog readers that i'm very proud to call my own.  we often have pillow fights. be ye warned.

so i was wondering what to write about, and a particular subject came to mind. i shall ramble about it now.

Urine.

oh urine.

such a troublesome substance.  lately, it seems that i am so full of joy and happiness and muscular relaxation that i cannot contain my urine.  i get to laughing and it just alllllll commeessssss ouuuuuuttt. now, nine times out of ten i am successful in punching my husband for being too brutally funny, marshalling my powers of concentration and sphincter tightening and just barely make it to the bathroom in time. but it's that pesky 10% fail rate that really cheeses my cracker. i can remember several of these such instances.  just the other day, i failed at "containment" and yelled from the bathroom, in defeat and rage, to my husband (who was laughing at me) to just go get me some goddamn clean pants.

several years ago, when i was 17 or so, i took ballet. you know, pointe shoes, leotard, tights, the whole nine yards. one particular evening my best friend in the class, Elise and I, were stuck in a vicious giggle rut and were cutting up wayyyyy too much and just having the best time. and then.... then, we went TOO FAR. i felt the ominous slosh of Emergency Pee Time.  i tried to make it across the dance studio floor, squeezing my legs together, fumbling towards the bathroom like a zombie praying mantis, but i couldn't make it.  i collapsed in a pile of dissappointment, laughter, hate, and urine. oh God, so much urine. i just couldn't stop! i tried to make it seem as though maybe i'd started my period... and that's why i'd collapsed?  i shooed my classmates and teacher from me as politely as i could, my futile efforts failing to keep them from noticing the man-made lake that i had just built there on the floor.  i tried to gather as much dignity as i could from what i had scattered in my bodily fluid, and half crawled to the bathroom. i proceeded to curse myself, and try to towel off my tights with the 1 ply toilet paper... to no avail.

needless to say, it wasn't one of my proudest moments. not my shiniest achievement.

i remember in my early years when i was maybe 7 and having to pee with such a quickness that i had to act on impulse. my knee-jerk reaction was mostly to drop straight to the floor, cross my legs, and wait for my micturition reflex to subside just enough for me to get up and race for the little girls' room.  my parents would laugh at their odd child, hurtling towards the bathroom screaming " I GOTTA PEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!"

I used to have a theory that blueberry muffins made me susceptable to these bouts of Bladder Failure.  which was a shame, because my dad's homemade blueberry muffins just so happened to be my favorite.  the family would all be sitting around the dinner table, eating our delicious baked treats, laughing it up, when my laughter would get out of control and i'd dash away from the table yelling "I GOTTA PEEEEE!!!"

my parents still think it's the funniest thing. and i'm almost certain the my husband gets me going on purpose, just so he can watch me squirm as i desperately attempt to impede the inevitable tidal wave release of giggle-induced urine.


i share my story with you tonight in hopes that my message is clear:

There IS such a thing as being TOO Funny.  So tell your friends, get screened/tested today, and don't let Emergency Pee/Bladder Failure happen to you and those that you love.


Reasons Why I Win Today:

1. I did not pee my pants, even though my hubby was extra hilarious today.

2. I got a nap in!

3. Even though i called my son a Troll today for keeping me up so much last night, i did not treat him like one, so I'm still an awesome mommy.

4.  No one called me a crooked politician today.

5.  No one kicked in my knee caps today.

6.  I usually watch The Biggest Loser on Tuesday nights and stuff my face with ice cream whilst i do so. Tonight, there was no Ice Cream Face Stuffage.

7.  I just used the word Stuffage.

8.  i finally kicked my ass into gear and wrote a blog! *self five*

9.  I did not rob a bank today.  though truth me told i contemplated knocking over a Cold Stone Creamery.

10.  I have SIXTEEN WHOLE FOLLOWERS ON BLOGGER!!! Pam, this one was for you. Hope I made you proud.

Hope y'all stay dry,

*The Flexible One*

Dear Things and Stuff...

Dear Snickers Ice Cream Bar,

Oh Siren of my Stomach, how I adore you.  You are such a delight! Your delicate chocolate shell encases 100 less calories than your denser, less frigid counterpart. I just wish there weren't so many of you in the freezer. The song of FOUR Snickers Ice Cream Bars is hard to resist when I'm on a diet and I think about eating and how hungry I am nearly every minute. yes, even while i'm sleeping.

With affection,
Krista


Dear Lady at Target Yesterday,

One of my greatest frustrations is NOT being able to soothe my child when he's crying. So I did NOT appreciate your actions yesterday when Ronin was SCREAMING in the check out line.  It was all I could do to keep from blowing up at you in a fit of rage when you paid for your purchase in LOOSE CHANGE, then bent over Ronin's stroller to "talk" to him, preventing me from getting to the credit card payment thing so that i could pay for the Gerber Veggie Dip snacks that would have satiated my crying son and alieved my tension. I have mixed feelings about my decision to yell at you, but mostly I don't regret it.

Self Righteously,
Young Frustrated Mama



Dear Son,

Please stop hating me and just eat your food.  You can't be breastfeeding forever. I'm afraid of your teeth that I'm sure are on their way in.

Love,
Mom



Dear Comb-over Man,

Just shave it off, buddy. That little wispy coif isn't fooling anyone.

Sincerely,
Krista




Dear Old Navy,

You are impressing the hell out of me. Not only did you make a yellow shirt that i look really good in, but you made a little flannel onsie, cargo pants, and one of those Fargo-esque furry hats with BEAR EARS on it in my son's size. He is the CUTEST little Outdoorsman in the described outfit, and it is all thanks to you.  Thank you for making my little man look like a Little Man.

Gratefully,
Krista




Dear Snickers Ice Cream Bar,

I give up. Get In My Fundus!!!!

Munch,
Krista




Dear Ronin's Bedtime,

GET HERE already.

~Krista



Dear Chick-Fil-A,

you know, every time i order fast food through the drive through, i expect a certain percentage of error.  a forgotten packet of barbeque sauce, a lack of napkins, an intrusive tomato slice when i ordered a chicken sandwich "neat". today, however, you shocked me with your inadequacy. i opened my bag-o-goodies to inspect the grilled chicken salad i ordered only to be greeted by half a head of hair. seriously. there was so much hair. i expected some hair, but it looks like the individual that was filling my order has an acute case of alopecia. and the Alopecia Drive-thru Technician aparently thought i'd like a few shreds of dried up grass in there too.  For real, Chick-Fil-A, slow your roll and FIX your SHIT.

Severely Grossed Out,
Krista




Dear Grim Reaper,

YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!!! hahahaha.... pun.

~Krista




Dear Stretch Marks,

you were cool and all when i was pregnant and 60 pounds heavier than i am now... but lately you just look ridiculous. therefore, i'm issuing an eviction notice. you have 60 days to vacate and be back to my normal, delightfully taut skin.  Ha!! just kidding. i'm not so naive as to think that i'll ever have that "soft supple" look ever again. that is best left to the sluts on the interwebs and all the chicks out there that are fat-less. lucky bitches.

your frenemy,
Krista








Krista's Thoughts Before Bedtime:

1. it's uncanny how many times a day i misspell my OWN name. maybe i should just change my name to krsita.

2.  i've lost 3 pounds in 2 weeks so by my calculations... bEEp BoOp BeEP beeP BOOp bEeP BeeP..... it will take 13 weeks to get down to my goal weight which puts us at....*calendar-flippings-through*..... 123 pounds on 13 January 2011.  totally doable.

3.  remember those big balloon/rubber balls that you'd blow up and they had a rubber band attatched to them so you could kind of spring them off of your hand? yeah. i never liked those growing up.

4.  my son could make a fortune doing Interpretive Dance. he is an excellent squirmer.

5.  i kind of like tinkering around with the piano....

6.  i'm going to invent a little gun that you zap your muscles with and it makes them not feel terrible and ache-y anymore. because my leg muscles feel terrible and ache-y.

7.  Monster has a new drink out- zero sugar and zero calories. fairly tasty. it's grrrrrrrrrrrrape!

8.  i wish that i had packed a t-shirt for this trip to Virginia. i find myself with nothing to lounge about in come bedtime and it's awkward.

9.  where did the word Skivvies come from? and why does it mean underwear?

10.  um.... does anyone actually read this anymore besides my mom, Shelly and Tash? and if so, why doesn't anyone comment anymore??? *tiny cry*



peace, beef, and brussel sprouts. time to have some Amaretto and OJ!!

"come on man, that was like three days ago. OR WAS IT?!?!?!?!"

i live in an utterly magical world.  and i can prove it. 

today i went to the gym.  *in a hauty voice* no biggie, burned like 5,000,000,000 calories, did enough sit-ups that it would make Chuck Norris cry from shame and envy.  you know, the usual.  i spent about an hour and a half twisting my body into perfected muscley steel.  after i was done assaulting the equipment, i gathered my things and walked out into the TORRENTIAL rain towards my car....

... and there it was.

lying on the ground, empty, flattened, and all alone.  the huge Vodka bottle.

at this point i stopped and had myself a little Ponder.

"a vodka bottle?  in the middle of the parking lot of the YMCA?  wow Georgia.  what a classy place you are.  so i guess somebody just got severely blitzed, stumbled out of their car, polished off the bottle of vodka, threw it on the ground and said 'alright. NOW i'm ready for my yoga class and water aerobics'. well, actually, maybe that sounds a little badass. hmm. i guess it's only badass if they pulled off going to spin class without puking during it"

so there you are; proof that the world is still a mystical and amazing place.


in other news, i have my husband back from Iraq.  this explains why i haven't really been writing anything and why i've been slacking more than Lazy VonSlothington.  i've been a tad busy.

also, i've devised a plan.  i now know what i'm going to do to beat the Evil People of the World should they decided to take over and carry out their evil plans.  well, provide they all wear eyeglasses.

Step One: somehow gather all the evil people to Houston Texas on the muggiest day of the year.  which consequently is all of the days of the year.

Step Two: invite them all out for lunch after it has rained heavily that morning.

Step Three: gather trusted friends and hide in the bushes.

Step Four: try not to giggle; it will give away our strategic position.  i especially am prone to "suspense giggling".

Step Five: wait for the Evil Ones to pop out of their cars at the designated "lunch venue".

Step Six: as soon as the humidity has fogged up their respective eyewear, rendering them blind and useless in a fight, SPRING from the bushes with bloodcurdling screams, banshee yells, and pointy sticks.

Step Seven: stab/bludgeon the Evil Ones into submission.

Step Eight: head inside to have lunch with your triumphant yet blood-spattered comrades and celebrate your sweet sweet victory!!

Note: don't rush this plan.  it is imperative that all of the environmental and ocular elements are in place before executing these steps.  if not, if you attack Evil Ones that wear contact lenses instead of bifocals, then you may be in for the ass-beating of your life.  plan carefully.  execute gracefully.  bludgeon wisely.



also.  usually Life Lessons happen as follows.  Life Decision >> What are my options? >> Choose one Option >> See Results >> Deal with Consequences, Good or Bad.

well, sometimes you just don't have the TIME to wait for all that to play out and you need to teach a Life Lesson right away.  i had such a moment today.

i was about to give my darling son a bath, and my cat Mischief had decided that he was fascinated by the water in the tub and he wasn't going to get out of the way.

i decided he needed to instantly learn the Life Lesson that he doesn't need to "live" on the side of the tub when i'm trying to get my angel baby bathed and in bed at a reasonable hour.  so.... i balanced the sweet darling on my hip, got on one foot, and used the other to violently nudge the cat into the bathwater.

i'm happy to report that it was 100% effective.  my cat now understands that Ronin's bathtime does NOT equal Kitten Gets To Be Curious About Slash Own Everything time.



10 Reasons Why I Win Today:

1. i was watching Flight Of The Conchords and there were two chicks that looked familiar in one of the episodes. i correctly placed both of them.  the blonde was an intern on the TV show Scrubs, the brunette was a drunken floozy from Forgetting Sarah Marshall.

2.  i did not die today.

3.  i was NOT the one who left the empty, flattened vodka bottle in the YMCA parking lot.

4. i'm definitely not a hermaphrodite.  not that anything's wrong with that.  but i'm sure it might be weird for my hubby if i was one... so... anatomy win?

5. i tricked my amazing offspring into eating his smooshed peas by mixing it in with his delicious rice cereal/milk this evening. Nutrition Win!!

6. i bought a bright neon yellow sports bra today.  that way if i ever go hunting while i'm wearing it, and my shirt magically dissapates, i won't get shot because it's reflective.

7. my hubby did the dishes!!! I Get To Be A Lazy Bum win!!

8. the yogurt that i just ate is like crack. 20% of my daily fiber strawberry flavored crack.  "i dunno why but today seems like it's going to be a great daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay"....

9.  i ate a slice of muenster cheese this morning.  CALCIUM WIN!!! SUCK IT, SALLY FIELD!!!

10.  it used to be that i wasn't able to see my feet when i was walking because of my MASSIVE Fetus-Infused belly.  now i can't see my feet when i'm walking because of my MASSIVE Milk-Infused Fun Bags.  hooray! Sexy Mama win!