I'm gonna have to post a retraction.

No mother, it's not a retraction to my political post. That's staying.

Remember the other day in the naked Wee One post, I mentioned in a note to the in-laws that Wee One had not peed in their floor yet? Well, gonna have to retract that one. He peed in their bathroom floor tonight after his bath.

Sorry. I cleaned it up. He thought it was hilarious. Being the true MOTY that I am, I had to giggle too.

Too good to not share with you all

So, as I'm doing my daily SITS check-in, I see a new blog on their site. Holy crap. What a fabulous idea. Go check it out.

Inspired By Each Other, what a great way for bloggers to support each other. I love it.

Is it just me?

Is it just me or has September been the longest month ever?

Seriously?

Pass that Mother of the Year trophy over here.

Oh yeah, it's mine. I win the title. I am THE Mother of the Year. The fact that my child is watching Elmo while I type this just cements my victory.

*excuse me while I change to the Dora DVD*

Husband's work was being represented in a parade today. Wee One and I rode along in the official car for Husband's place of work. The parade was part of a local festival celebrating a random, oddly shaped vegetable. Wee One loved being in the parade. He loved waving to people and shrieking "Grandma! Papas!" when he saw his grandparents in the crowd. Did I mention that he ate two lollipops during the parade? And a cinnamon-y twisty cookie thing?

After the parade we went in to the festival. I proceeded to scare the living daylights out of child by placing him on a carnival ride with his father. He went from screaming in terror before the ride started to howls of anger when the ride was over and he didn't want to leave. It was time to eat. What do I buy my child? A big, fat, deep-fried corn dog. He washed that down with some fresh-squeezed (sugary, sugary, sugary) lemonade. I offered him some of the glorious celebrated vegetable, fried of course. He chewed it for a minute then immediately wanted it out of his mouth. His exact words, "scared me." Nice. Back to that corndog.

Of course, what festival is complete without cotton candy? My favorite. And being the true MOTY that I am, I had to share with my child. Obviously with that sugar high the only nap he got today was in the car on the home. It's going to be an early bedtime tonight.

I declare victory in the first debate.

Okay, so I try not to be divisive. But I'm needing to discuss politics this evening. I didn't see much of the debate, but I saw enough of it.

Some background, I grew up in a VERY Republican household. VERY Republican. When I turned 18 I made sure that I registered to vote as soon as I was of age. Voting is my soapbox issue. Especially as a woman. So many people fought and died to give us this right, but I digress...I will admit, I voted for Bush, twice. I wouldn't say I'm ashamed of it. The only vote to be ashamed of is one that isn't cast, but if I could do it again, I don't know what I would do. His second term has been nothing short of failure. And much to my father's deep disappointment, I have to say, this mama's for Obama.

I find myself becoming more and more liberal the older I get. Socially, I don't think you can get more liberal than I am. I am an ardent supporter of gay marriage. Love is love. Everyone deserves to be happy. Does it matter to me if it's a man and a woman, or a man and a man? Nope. Not at all. If my child came to me one day and said, "mom, I'm gay." I would embrace them. I only want my children to be happy. Abortion? While no, it's not a choice I would make, it's not my choice to make for other women. I'm a huge fan of a woman's reproductive rights. In high school I was on a field trip to a pathology museum. I saw a failed abortion in a glass jar. Yep, you could see what the girl used. You could see the fetus. She died. I don't want to see society revert back to that.

Any who, there was a point to this post, but I think I've lost it. After watching the debate for as briefly as I did, I felt the need to express my thoughts. No matter what happens, we're watching history, and I love that. Husband says, "you're going to piss people off with that post." Nope, not trying to piss people off. Just sharing my thoughts. That's why I'm here. That's what makes this country great.

God Bless America.

How about a warning next time?

I'm cooking dinner the other night. Cooking at my in-law's house has been a little difficult at times because I'm not used to where everything is and all that. I'm bent over digging through a cabinet when I hear little footsteps.

"Diaper! Mommy! Diaper!"

Um, kay. What's he saying diaper for?

I look up. There's my naked child. He's stripped. He's carrying his diaper, proudly showing it to me.

My child is a nudist. He wants to take his clothes off as soon as he gets home. All I need is for an in-law to come home and find my child peeing in their floor.
(Note to in-laws, Wee One has not peed in the floor as of yet.)

Stop The Presses!!

Um, I'm gonna need a little help here. My jaw just hit the floor. I'm so shocked. Who knew? Seriously? Not me. I had no idea. I feel robbed. I mean, he had the baby with that woman, even though they didn't have sex to have it. Who would have thought, Clay Aiken? Gay? Wow. Just wow.

**I hope everyone is able to read the sarcasm here.**

My thing is, why give this the cover?? I think Travis Barker and DJ AM deserved that spot after what they endured and are still enduring. Now I'm gonna have to rip the cover off of my People before bringing it into my house so the picture doesn't scare my child or my in-law's dog. However, the baby is quite cute.

Applying Diego to Real Life

Yes, I refer to my child's television addictions a lot. However, I thought I should mention that I was able to apply an episode of Diego to real life yesterday.

Wee One and I were in the aquarium at the zoo yesterday. He was a little freaked out by the mass quantities of weird looking fish swimming so close to him.

"Fish scare me," he says.

"No, they're not scary. Remember when Diego rode Tuga to the Underwater City?"

"Yeth."

"These are those fish! They're happy fish. They like to smile and dance and sing."

"Okay mommy."

See, I magically cured his fear. And all because of Diego. Woot.

Shit-tastic Day

Today sucked. I don't know why, I can't pinpoint one particular thing, but today sucked.

I just want to go home.

I want to go home to a house that is mine.

I want to be in my own space.

I want my issues at work to go away.

I want to stop this constantly frustrated feeling I have.

I just want to go home.

Zoological sex ed

The Wee One and I took a trip to the zoo today. Our zoo is normally good for a sex ed lesson. Today was the first time, I think EVER, we didn't get to observe mating rituals of some animal or another.

Take a trip back down memory lane with me...cue the Wayne's World-ish doodly-doo, doodly-doo...
Picture it, junior year of college, it's November. There's a chill in the air. And apparantly lovin' as well. The Husband, we'll refer to him as The Boyfriend in this memory sequence, and I are walking around the zoo. We hear this god-awful noise. It was like nothing I have ever heard before. It was horrific. There's an elderly couple in front of us. They're laughing. We look up. Oh. My. God.
Those humungous Galapagos turtles? Um, yeah, they were doing it. Oh yes, they were totally getting it on. It was disturbing.
On a subsequent visit to the zoo they were doing it again. Horny little buggers.

Fast forward several years. This time it's a family affair. We're feeding giraffes. I hear my father-in-law shout, "Look! The ostriches are doing it." Now, if you've ever met my father-in-law you would understand that this is hilarious. Sure enough, they were going at it. After they were, um, done, one of them walks away. "He's going to smoke a cigarette." I'm sure all those parents of little ones there appreciated that.

So yeah, no animal nooky today. Must not be anything in the water here today.

My child, the comedian.

I'm currently doing Weight Watchers. I did it last year and lost a ton, but never got quite to my ideal weight. I gained a couple of pounds back and have just wanted to get down to that magic number. I love WW because I feel like you can eat whatever you want and still lose weight. BUT, this is not an ad for WW. Just some background for you.

I have found that all I really need is a taste of something sweet and that will usually satisfy my sweet tooth, at least temporarily. On my last visit to Target (*gasp* I haven't been there since Wednesday) I bought some of those Choxie chocolate truffles. Wee One got a hold of them this morning my mother-in-law tells me.

"Grandma! Poopies!"

Lovely.

So Much For Resistance.

I tried to resist. I said I wasn't going to get caught up in it. I swore I wouldn't go near it. I can't afford to get involved. It's not right.

But, alas, I'm now involved, and I think it's serious.

Yep, started this book the other day. Holy crap, you people were right. It's fabulous. I am devouring it as fast as I can, but I don't want to read it too fast. Wow.

Part 2, My issues with children's programming

Sorry to disappoint the masses yesterday. I had a wicked migraine that lasted the entire day. Boo. Hiss. Not to fear, I am here today with two more additions to my ongoing series.

Today's first victims:

Everyone's favorite, Higglytown Heroes. Now, I'm not knocking the show. I think the show is absolutely adorable. I think it teaches a great lesson in that there are heroes all around us, and they're not only the ones we would normally think of as heroes. Love that. But I do have some issues.

My first, Pizza Guy.

If you've seen the show, maybe you share my concern. Okay, obviously he's a washed up surfer dude who appears to be a bit of a stoner. Why is he the main guardian of the kids on some of their adventures? I don't know about you guys, but I'm not letting my child go off to a canyon to see some pervey old pizza juggler guy with no chaperone but the Pizza Guy and a squirrel. (More on the squirrel in a bit.) I don't get it.

Okay, on to Fran the squirrel. In some episodes the only guardian these weebly-wobbly kids have is a freaking squirrel. Now how is this responsible parenting? Personally, I find squirrels to be a little creepy. If one landed on my head, I would probably piss myself. I wouldn't encourage it to share it's worldly wisdom with me. And come on, can she cut Twinkle a break, just once? Let her pink and purple hippos save the world? Or at least pretend to humor one of her crazy ideas?

And finally, can someone please tell me what happened to Ubie's parents? Why does he live with his bizaare aunt and uncle? Why do they have 8 million birds in that tiny Higgly house? How is that sanitary? Some one tell me please.

Okay, next victim, The Wiggles.

Don't get me wrong. I love the Wiggles. The Husband even went to high school with Dorothy the Dinosaur (who is now married to the new Yellow wiggle).

I do, however, have one major issue. It's not really with the Wiggles themselves, or even the ever annoying Captain Feathersword. It's that guy. You all know the one. If you've ever watched the Wiggles, he's annoyed you too. I believe he goes by the name Benny Bandicoot. He wears that stupid hat with the stupid corks hanging from it. I HATE that guy. HATE that guy. Seriously. Everytime he comes on, I want to kick him in the face. I love how in the newer episodes he's dyed his hair black. Guess he's trying to be more emo. Not working Bucko. Go away. Please. Go far, far away.

And please, someone else agree with me that Anthony is somewhat attractive?

My problems with Wee One's tv shows, Part the First

Being the true Mommy of the Year (MOTY) that I am, my child watches plenty of tv. Sometimes I even consider waking him up in the middle of the night to make sure he gets enough hours of tv in each day. We watch it all. Disney, Noggin, Sprout, Bravo, MTV, you name it. I consider myself to be the expert on children's programming. I've come up with some issues while watching hours and hours of brain-numbing kids tv.

Let's start with Caillou, Wee One's favorite.

I have several issues with this show (and Caillou's whiny voice does not count, I'm rather immune to it).

My biggest one is the creepy neighbor, Mr. Hinkle. You know, the one with the gold tooth. Caillou is freaked out at first by Mr. Hinkle. (I am too. He totally sets of the Creep-dar or Perv-dar.) What does Caillou's mom do? She invites him in for an inpromptu game of hide and seek. Seriously.

Caillou's frenemy Sarah pisses me off to no end. I want to kick her in her smug animated little face. Seriously. Especially the one where she shows up in her karate gear. Bitch. Go away. Your mom can't take you to karate because she has a cold? Right. More likely she's been hitting the bottle a little too early in the day.

And come on, could Caillou's dad, Boris be a bigger dork? Such cheese. Me thinks Caillou is going to suffer from some serious embarassment when he gets to high school and there's Boris trying to show his friends how cool he still is.

Tonight's next victim? The ever-lovable Diego.

Don't get me wrong, I lurves me some Diego. But I do have some issues.

First of all, how old is Diego? Are we ever told that? He sure goes on some fancy adventures for a kindergarten kid. Kids going to get all kinds of action in college with the stories he'll have.

"I rode my leatherback sea turtle through an underwater city to rescue broken pieces of the moon and put it back in the sky." Right. He's gonna get some serious ass for that one.

Is anyone else concerned by his pet, Baby Jaguar? One of these days Baby Jaguar is going to grow up and who knows, he could go all Roy Horn on Diego. Maybe Baby Jaguar will get spooked by the singing fish in the underwater city.

Why does Diego have way-cooler gadgets than I'll ever have? I like the video watch. I want a video watch that alerts me to when Louboutins go on sale. I want one that finds sample sales for me.

Stay tuned for more.

Damn Wonderpets

All you mommies and daddies out there know what I'm talking about. That annoyingly sweet little cartoon with the infectious song that gets stuck in your head and stays there for weeks.

So, tonight was the end of a rough day. Wee One had a conniption in the car on the way home from daycare. He wanted to go "home." He didn't want to go to Grandma and Papa's, he wanted to go home. He wanted to go to Wee One's house. Damn near killed me hearing that. We get home and we're having our daily decompression with tv time. We're watching Wonder Pets. (Might I insert that we're also having some daycare transition issues as well.) It's The Wonder Pets Help the Blow Fish.

It appears Baby Blow Fish doesn't want to go to preschool and leave his mommy. I'm a sobbing mess by the time Baby Blow Fish starts singing his song and Mommy Blow Fish tells him she'll always come back for him. I'm almost a sobbing mess just thinking about it.

I feel so guilty. I've totally rocked my child's world by moving him out of his house and into one that's not ours. I've totally changed his whole little life and I can see that it's affecting him. What's worse is we're going to do it again in a few months when our house is finished. He's going to get comfortable here, then we're going to pick him up and move him again. Ugh. Mommy guilt is a bitch

It doesn't help that I'm seriously pissed at daycare right now too...

Cheers guys, I'm raising my glass to the lot of you.

I have gas.

No, I don't have that kind of gas. I'm one of apparantly the lucky few that didn't have to wait on line for freaking ever this morning to get gas. Ike has people all kinds of freaked out here, in South Carolina. I dropped Wee One off at school this morning and knew I had to get gas. The Beamer was yelling at me. (Damn those computerized cars.)

Gas station #1: Nothing

Gas station #2: One functioning tank and an insane line for it

Gas station #3: A functioning gas pump! Woot! Hoo-oh wait. Look, there's the gas station employee shutting that one off. Dammit.

Gas station #4: Eureka. I have found it. I only had to wait in line behind one person.

This is unreal. Some speculator somewhere starts a nasty rumor that gas is going to be $6/gallon. Cue the panic and huge lines. I'm annoyed. People are creating their own nightmares by panicking. Ugh.

Well, I'm good for at least a week.

How to freak out your child

So, my husband is a huge nerd. I'm talking huge. (**waves hi to The Husband reading this at work**)

He's a big sports fanatic. He is a huge fan of sports radio as well. He has a problem. He likes to call in to these sports radio shows. He was on his way from home at the same time I had Wee One in the car with me this afternoon.
"Turn the radio! I'm on hold with the radio station."

Loser. (I say that with love.)

So I turn the radio. He comes on. Wee One hears him.

"It's Daddy on the radio!"

Cue the HUGE freak out.

"SEE DADDY NOW!!!"

No, dear, we'll see him in a few minutes.

"SEE DADDY NOW!! NOW MOMMY NOW!!"

He's terrified. He hears his daddy's voice in the radio.

Cue mommy feeling like a real asshat for subjecting her child to that.

Children of the 80s, I have a question for you.

Alright, all you children of the 80s, gather round. Do you remember The Smurfs? Sure you do, who doesn't remember the Smurfs. Do you remember an episode of the Smurfs where they all got bit by a fly and turned purple and started going around biting and infecting each other with this weird Smurf disease? They would say (and the spelling is correct per Wikipedia) "gnap gnap gnap." (Pronounced gah-nap)

Ladies and gentlemen, I submit to you Exhibit A. The Purple Smurf. The Smurf equivalent to West Nile or bird flu.

I know you're wondering, why on earth is she asking about purple smurfs. I do have a point with this, I promise. Wee One has a new noise. When he gets annoyed he says something that sounds a lot like "Gnap, gnap." It cracked me up when I made the connection. Most people here thought I was insane. Nope. When are people going to realize, I'm always right??

"Where were you when the world stopped turning?"

I truly cannot believe that tomorrow is September 11. I cannot believe that it has been 7 years since that terrible, horrible, God-awful day. It really seemed as if time stopped. It seemed as if the world truly did stop turning. I can still remember the panic I felt, the fear, the rage, the uncertainty, and most strongly, the pain. No, I didn't personally know any of the victims of that horrible day, but with all I saw and read in the days afterward, I do feel as if I knew them. They were normal people. People just like you and me. People who were doing their day to day activities. People who had no idea when they kissed their kids and spouses good-bye that morning that it would be for the last time.

So, where were you? Where were you when the world stopped turning? To quote a great, very simplistic song by Alan Jackson.

I was in my second year of pharmacy school. I remember being annoyed that morning because it was still so freaking hot. I remember wearing a black and white striped tank top and a long black skirt to class that day. We had to dress up because it was lab, and we had to dress professionally for lab. I remember struggling to stay awake in my pharmacology class. I remember towards the end of class, my medicinal chemistry professor interrupted class.

"I came to tell you that an airplane has just flown into one of the World Trade Center towers."

Of course we were all properly shocked, but we didn't think very much of it. Class was soon over and we all went upstairs to the computer lab, like normal, to check email and stuff. There was a tv in one of the offices that was in the computer lab. As we got there, the second plane hit. Now we were starting to be alarmed. We go back for class, which was pretty pointless. None of us were paying attention to anything. There was a knock on the door and it was my med chem prof again.

"I have to tell you all that both towers have collapsed and a plane has hit the pentagon. They think there are other planes that are unaccounted for."

I learned the true meaning of the word terror in that second. What in the world was going on? Obviously we were under attack, but from whom? From where? And, why? Why would someone or someones do something of this magnitude to us?

My teacher from my next class came in, visibly shaken. She had friends on The Hill.

"Class is cancelled."

It was at that moment that I thought of my friends who were in DC at the time.

I lived in an off-campus house within walking distance of the school. My best friend and I walked back to my house. I remember hearing the sound of an airplane and being terrified. I remember walking into my house and hearing a voice on my answering maching thinking it was one of my DC friends. It was not.

I remember sitting, watching the news, waiting for more information, just waiting. I remember the Husband, who was the Boyfriend at the time, calling me hysterical because he wasn't sure where his father was that day. His dad at any given time could be on a plane. He didn't know. He was so very afraid of what he was seeing as well.

My best friend and I called school to see if we were going to have lab that afternoon. Surely not, there was no way anyone was going to be able to concentrate.

"Yes, lab is proceeding as scheduled. We want you all to be able to get your mind off of the events of the day. And we also would like to have everyone in one location in the event of another attack. Attendance is mandatory."

Never have I wanted to reach through the phone and slap someone more.

Obviously, lab was a complete and total waste of time. I vaguely remember some video about aseptic lab technique they were trying to show us. We all just wanted to get out of there and get to our families and friends.

Watching the events unfold that day and in the days that followed, I was so proud to be an American. I was so proud to see the country coming together in light of the horrific atrocities that were committed that day on our soil. I never, ever, ever want to live through something like that again. Never.

God bless America.

Order in the court!

Without going into any specifics, thought I'd give you a jury duty update.

We're still there.

It was funny though, I looked at both of the Larry Bud Mellman-esque bailiffs today. They were both asleep. Hilarious.

Big misconception on my part

So, I have jury duty this week. I'm totally enjoying it. I was picked for a jury, so I've been sitting in a courtroom all day. Who knew that could be so exhausting??

Okay, so, before this whole experience I had always pictured a bailiff as a big bulky bouncer looking guy.

Kind of like this guy.

What I got instead was this:

They're a bunch of little old men, much like Mr. Larry Bud Mellman there. Who knew? They're adorably cute and have labeled me as The "Insert name of my occupation here." They like to point and laugh and say, "Look! The "insert name of my occupation here" is falling asleep." They would be right. I'm paying attention, I promise, but I have my moments where I find myself daydreaming of things like clothes, Gossip Girl, Wee One, dinner, you know, random stuff.

Boobie. Bwoken.

Wee One and I are hanging out on my in-laws back porch late this afternoon. There are a couple of buoys from their boat laying on a table. Wee One, being the genius that he is with a memory recall that rivals some MENSA members, goes to pick one up.

"Boobie."

I'm trying not to snort.

"Boobie. Bwoken."

It's really hard to hold this one in.

"Boobies. Bwoken. Now."

No Wee One, the boobi-I mean buoys are not broken.

A funny thing happened while selling my house

Okay, so as most of you know, our old house closed on Friday. It was originally not supposed to close until the 15th, but they moved it up to Friday the 5th at 1pm. We agreed to that, no biggie. Earlier in the week they pushed the time up to 10am. We were already pushing it to get out that day. We had made the agreement with the buyer that since we accomodated them by agreeing to change the closing date, they would accomodate us and give us until the end of the day on Friday to be out.

My name wasn't on the mortgage, so I didn't have to go to the closing. H goes, I stay and supervise the movers (read: blog), he comes home, things are going smoothly. The movers get things packed up and go to lunch. I'm on my hands and knees scrubbing the baseboards (this is before I fell in love with my vaccuum). I'm cleaning like I've never cleaned before. H gets a call from our realtor. Apparantly, the buyer sent her power of attorney to the closing. Apparantly, she never agreed to let us have until the end of the day on Friday to get out. She's calling the cops because we're trespassing on HER property. She's ready to move NOW. Okay, so much for the cleaning. I'm not up for dealing with the cops today.

We finish things up as best we can and get the hell out of the house before this crazy lady can call the cops on us. H gets a call later on from the realtor again. The realtor had just been called by the buyers realtor. Hmmm, the house wasn't cleaned to her liking.

WTF? H was livid. He begins his rant on how we were threatened with the cops and she wants to bitch about some crumbs on the stove? OMG. Unbelievable. It's Sunday now and we haven't heard anything else from them, but seriously? Seriously? I was all ready to scrub that house from top to bottom AND leave you a nice bottle of champagne as a house warming gift. Threaten me with cops and you get crumbs on the stove and NO champagne. Seriously?

I'm saucy!

Big thank yous to the ladies over at SITS and welcome to all the SITSas visiting. If you're not familiar with that site, get on over there and check it out. You'll find lots of fabulous blogs over there. I've made lots of bloggy friends through them.

For the girls...

So, I have a new guilty pleasure. Yep, I arrived at it a little late, but that's what DVDs are for. I am now hooked on Gossip Girl. Oh yes. I feel so dirty for even admitting it. I mean, these kids are what? 16? 17? And they get a lot more action than I do. So, so dirty. And who even thinks for a moment that this show is remotely realistic? Not me. So, while the new 90210 skeeved me out totally, I will indulge wholeheartedly into Gossip Girl.

The show is full of man candy. So delicious, I almost can't decide which one I like the best. I think I have a favorite though.

Penn Badgley-my favorite. Yum-freaking-o.

Ed Westwick-when he's playing dirty boy Chuck Bass, I think he's hot. I see pics of him where I think he's hot, but he doesn't do it for me like Penn. I think it's the whole dirty bad boy thing.
Chace Crawford-he's beautiful. But honestly, I can't date a guy that's prettier than me. Actually, I'm not dating anyone other the the husband, but if I were ten years younger and single, I would have issues dating someone prettier than me. And let's face it, he's prettier than a lot of us. LOL
Alright, Ashley. Unscripted... goes interactive here. Who's your Gossip Girl man? Leave me a comment and share the love.

I love my vacuum cleaner.

It's true. Alert the media, I'm in love with my vacuum. Little did I know that those little attachmentey things actually served a purpose. Who knew? That little brushy sucky thing? Holy crap, it cleans baseboards. And don't tell anyone, but cleaning those baseboards with my new best friend was somewhat therapeutic.

So, if I could take this moment to apologize to my new best friend for all the times I've cursed him, for all of his relatives that I sent to an early grave because I had issues changing vacuum bags and would always break the vacuum when doing this. (NBF is bagless. Woot.)

Who knew?

Um, movers are kind of awesome.

As I sit here on my cozy spot on the floor, watching the movers take my worldly possessions out of this house on a hand-truck several thoughts come to my mind.

• Bless their hearts, thank goodness it's them and not me.
• This whole loading a truck thing really is an art.
• I have a lot of crap. (But I just heard the guys say that this was an easy job. LOL)
• I'm about to spend the next six months with my in-laws.
• I'm never moving again once our house is built.
• Where my couch was is kind of gross right now.
• Wee One would be enthralled right now watching this.

This is crazy for me. I've never done this before. I lived in the same house my whole life until I moved to college.

An Ode to My (Soon To Be Former) House

The boxes are packed, the stuff's packed away.

We're leaving, we're moving, we're going away.

Okay, that's about as rhymey as I get. I'm kind of sad. I rocked my baby one last time in this house tonight. We rocked, he read a book to me, we watched The Husband try to shove Wee One's toddler bed into his car. Right, I said car, not truck. It provided much levity. Thank you for that Husband. I don't think Wee One realizes the magnitude of what's going on here. He was just excited to be spending the night with the grandparents tonight.

The Husband and I built this house when we were engaged and I was finishing school for that job that I have that I'm not allowed to speak of. We came home from our honeymoon to this house. (Of course, it was coming home for us, we had been living in sin for awhile at that point.)

I endured 8 weeks of horrendous morning sickness in this house. I spent a pregnant summer with sausage toes in this house. I brought my sweet, sweet baby home to this house.

There are so many memories. It's quite sad to see everything boxed up and ready to go. But it's bigger and better things for us. But this little house will always have a special place in my heart.

My least favorite word.

Wee One's new favorite word is NOW. It's usually spoken in a loud, demanding tone of voice.

"Grandma and Papa's NOW! Go NOW!"

"Cookie NOW!"

It's never now, it's always NOW. Drives me insane. Yesterday we had a meltdown. He wanted to watch the Backyardigans. NOW.
"Ardigans NOW mommy."

This proved to be a problem. We don't own any Ardigans DVDs, possibly the only children's show of which we don't own any DVDs. (Except for maybe the Doodlebops because they creep me the hell out.) I tried to explain this to him, then I realized. You can't reason with a two year old. It's a complete impossibility. Luckily I was able to assuage him with Dora, but looks like I'm going to need to purchase an Ardigans DVD today.

I wonder if it would work for me.
"I want Louboutins NOW!"
"I want diamond earrings from Tiffany NOW!"

Hmmm, I'm not crafty, but I could be.

The wonderful ladies at The Secret is in the Sauce are at it again. It's a wonderful place for you to get your blog noticed. I've found some wonderful bloggie friends there. They also have fantabulous contests. They've got one going now that I want to win. I'm not the craftiest person. Wee One's scrapbook is complete through, hmm, the first two weeks? (And it's currently packed away.) If I won this contest, that could all change.

Go check them out. And yeah, I realize if you enter you're competition, but that's okay. I'm cool like that.

I can't do it.

The new 90210? Can't do it. Maybe it's because I'm old. Maybe it's because when I see "Hannah Zuckerman Vazquez" I realize just how old I am. I also realize that most of these kids watching this "brand new" show have no idea who her parents are. They aren't scratching their heads wondering why the Zuckerman-Vazquezes are still in West Beverly.

I need Dylan! I need David's wicked cool dance moves! I need Kelly and her cult/drugs/eating disorder issues! Give me Steve Sanders any day. I'm gonna stick with the reruns of the REAL 90210.

I think I can safely say this now.

My house is now completely childproofed. Outlets covered? Check. (Should probably uncover those before we're out of here on Friday.)

Sharp objects out of reach? Check. (Unless Wee One can somehow fight through mountains of tape and find out which box the sharp things are stored in.)

Cleaning supplies, chemicals, drugs out of reach? Check. (See above.)

Mountains of boxes out of the way so child can't climb on them? Oops. Gonna have to go with FAIL on that one. He'll be hanging from my chandelier by bedtime.

It never ends.

As I sit here typing this, I should be packing (**waving hi to the husband who is reading this at work and judging me**). I need to be in Wee One's room packing up his millions and millions of toys. Will he notice that his toys have been packed? Nope. That would mean that he actually played with them. Who needs toys when there are perfectly good remote controls, cell phones, pens, Sharpies, knives, razors around? (No, he does not play with knives and razors. Besides, they're all packed anyway.)

But I digress...Friday is the big day. We've gotten a lot done, but there's still a lot to do. It's endless. I spent all day last Wednesday in my closet. That was a scary experience. After giving away a ton of stuff, I still have a ton of stuff. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I am about to be moving in with my in-laws for six to seven months. Don't get me wrong, I love my in-laws. They're great. I got very lucky in the in-law department. It's the whole, I'm not in my own house thing. It will probably snow 18 feet in October and November, just for spite. Just to delay our house construction.

And, I'm a bad wife. In all of this madness I screwed up for The Husband's birthday. Thought I'd be all trendy and cute and order him a bunch of stuff from J.Crew. It was supposed to be here Friday. His birthday was yesterday. No stuff. He won't say he's mad at me, but I know he's a little ticked. Yes, dear. I can see it in your eyes. And I feel terrible about it. Ever since they decided to revamp their website it's been a mess. Ugh. If it's not here today I'm gonna have to make a strongly worded phone call.

So, off to pack I go. Oooh, look at what Perez is talking about today...

My child's favorite cartoon characters

So, Wee One and I are hanging out reading a book, something we do quite frequently. We're reading one of his Sesame Street books. We typically "read" this book four or five times a day. I hate this book. I've tried packing it for the move. I've tried hiding it. No such luck. It's like he has radar specifically for this book.

One thing I'll do is point to pictures and ask who's in the picture. Oh yes, my child can name each and every Sesame Street character, from Snuffleupagus to Rosita to Zoe.

"Wee One, who's this?"
Elbow
Yes, it was Elmo.
"What about this guy?"
Big Turd.

Here we go, again.

I'm back. Lessons learned, changes made. I enjoy blogging too much to stay away for long. However, there are some major changes. The biggest change? The blog theme. We're staying far, far, far away from my career choice. If you know what I do, don't speak of it. Shhhhh...

This blog is devoted to the life and times of a working mommy. Of course, all mommies are working mommies. This mommy happens to work out of the house. This mommy is also in the process of selling her house, building a new house, and moving in with the in-laws in the meantime. Should be good bloggy material.

If you were on my old blogroll, I want you on my new one. If I don't have you added yet, let me know and you're on.

Keep reading ladies and gents. I'm back.