Coherently Incomprehensible

1. I've been up since 3:30am. I am totally NOT responsible for the subsequent content of this post.

2. That said, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY please, Universe, PUH-LEASE let my child sleep tonight. My sanity and marriage depend on this.

3. Moving on: Am I the only one who not only doesn't care about who won American Idol, but am also sick of hearing about it?

4. Also: Orange flavored toothpaste- Yea or Nay? The husband swears by it but I can't get past my suspicion that it is probably completely disgusting.

5. Lastly, I hope everyone has a nice holiday weekend and asgkl;efjasion awv;ionawlkvad.m*

*Apologies. That was my forehead colliding with my keyboard. Probably because I am SO FUCKING TIRED. Weep for me.

He's Lucky He's So Good in Bed

Of course the joyous event of spring FINALLY arriving in this godforsaken state had to be tempered with something. I mean, you wouldn't want things to be TOTALLY awesome for any significant amount of time, right?

Hence, the arrival of the nastiest head cold I've had in quite some time. I've got sinus pain, congestion, body aches...I know- wah wah wah, boo-hoo, cry me a river- but seriously? Summer colds SUCK.

When I remarked on this fact to my husband, his astute reply was, naturally, "Well...Summer worse than others. GET IT? GET IT? HAHAHAHAHAHA."

Yeah, he's an asshole. Cute, but an asshole.

Shut, er, Shush Up

Things I say far too often, based on the frequency at which my child is repeating them:

"Dammit"

"Ready, Honey?"

"Shit"

"Holy Shit"

"Holy Smokes"

"Cool!"

"Rock n' Roll!"

"Cookies!"

"Fuck"

"Nooooooooooo!"


Alright, I think that last one, at least, is more due to toddler-ness than me, but still...it comes out of his mouth amazingly often. Right now, when he repeats a swear, our strategy is to not pay any special attention to it, act like it is just another word and then mentally flog ourselves for being such sailors.

And, since I'm so very into lists today, a short one of the things I hope to accomplish this weekend:

1. Sleep
2. Cleaning
3. Sleep
4. Gardening
5. Sleep

Wish me luck.

Jiggety Jog

Made it up to the hometown and back again in one piece this weekend. Spent time with the inlaws- hiking, eating, talking, eating, watching a toddler roll around in the grass like a crazy person, and eating. The weather was cool, but not cold, cloudy but with a little bit of sun. It was a study in paradoxes.

So that's an achievement.

For Mother's Day, the husband got me $$ for a new tattoo and a very lovely card. YAY! I've already got an appointment booked and everything. I'll let it be a surprise, but its going to be classic, sailor-y, and incorporate my kid's name because I love that little turd factory SO much.

All in all, it was a nice weekend and now I'm back at the daily grind which seems grind-ier than normal because I got all used to sleeping until 7 and eating my weight in chocolate chip pancakes and stuff like that just doesn't happen during a 'work week.'

"It Would Be So Funny If He Drove a Miata..."

*In annoying sing-songy voice:*

ITS MY FRIDAY. OH YEAH. ITS MY FRIDAY.

For reals. We are taking a 4 day weekend and driving to our hometown to visit the husband's parents for the weekend. I'm actually looking forward to the mini-road trip and the change of scenery for a couple of days.

But.

Since it is my Friday, here's a humorous treat. JUST FOR YOU.

And warning: its a teensy bit racy so it might not be safe for work, unless you work in a wretched hive of scum and villainy. Like I do.

Enjoy.

Between Two Ferns With Zach Galifianakis from Between Two Ferns

When It Rains, It Pukes

Good fucking grief.

The weekend started out awesome: Saturday was rainy and we had fun cleaning the house and doing some painting with the kid. (He always starts out wanting to use a brush but 'finger painting' inevitably ensues...its a blast). Saturday night, important works of art set to dry on every conceivable surface in our kitchen, I went out for a drink with friends. Sunday I had La Leche League business to attend to which was a good excuse to girl-talk-it for 2 hours.

Sunday night is when it all turned to hell. It started innocently enough: The husband made homemade Alfredo sauce and served it over some fresh pasta purchased from the grocery store. We also had some bagged salad that was on a good sale.

At precisely 11:16 pm, I woke up with THE WORST sickness I have ever had. EVER. There was diarrhea. There was puking. There was BOTH AT THE SAME TIME FOR 5 STRAIGHT HOURS. The husband was in the same boat. After 9 years of marriage, you wonder how to reconnect? Just get violent food poisoning at the same time. A cheap, easy bonding exercise. You're welcome.

Our only saving grace was that while World War III was being waged in our innards, the kid was sound asleep, dreaming peacefully in his crib all night. Thank jeebus he didn't touch any of his dinner. I finally passed out on the couch around 4 am. I think the poor husband was up all night.

So yesterday, we both called in sick and spent the day daintily sipping ginger ale, nibbling saltines and watching movies while Otto played his little, non-food-poisoned heart out at daycare.

Thank the Powers That Be for daycare.

And now, on the other side of this horrific episode, a few observations: I feel suprisingly clean...last night I washed all our bedding (no one puked on it or anything but you know...I just wanted it clean), took the longest, hottest shower of my life and slept like I was dead for 10 hours. This morning, my pants fit a little looser and my head is strangely clear.

So food poisoning? Marital bonding technique AND effective detox. And you can take that free advice all the way to the toilet.

With their flapping heads and beady eyes....

...oh wait, that's Canadians.

So my husband IM's me this morning with this:

why is so much of our country so vile and disgusting?

and then links me here.

Good fucking question, I say. Oh, and it just furthers my hypothesis that conservative talk radio hosts are demon spawn from hell.