Color for Christmas
December 20th, 2009 § 1 Comment
Dear Santa,
I’ve been really, really good this year.
Seriously.
In fact, I’ve been so good, one might even call me boring. I know, my dear Saint Nick, that in years past I’ve stretched your patience and come close to being on the top of your naughty list. But honestly, I’m a beacon of goodness. A shining light spreading cheer and good will wherever I go.
Okay, Santa, I’m laying it on a bit thick. But what can I say. When I’m good, I’m good and I’ve been very, very…you get the picture right?
Speaking of pictures, I’d like to color in a few and nothing less than 500 glorious colors will do. So here’s what’s on the top of my list:
500 Colored Pencils — 500 Pencils
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THE LOOK OF LOVE? OR SEVERE CASE OF THE FLU?
December 11th, 2009 § Leave a Comment
Stop reading now if the name “John Hughes” means nothing to you.
I have just revealed my age to the reading public.Okay, if you’re still with me, then you too swooned and got all goose-bumpy whenever Andrew McCarthy laid one of his droopy eyed, puppy dog, I’m so very attractive, yet not really attractive at all, looks on a) Molly Ringwald, b) Ally Sheedy or c) Any actress other than Kim Catrall in that disastrous mannequin flick that doesn’t count.Do you have the Pretty In Pink soundtrack playing in your head?We’re still on the same page then.So anyway, there I am at my child’s pediatrician’s office woozy from two weeks of the plague (i.e. the flu that never ends). Both mother and child were struck down with a mighty force that left us crying for mommy. My child’s cries were answered, mine, unfortunately were not.But I’ve lost my train of thought. My deathly illness has nothing to do with Andrew McCarthy, or Jon Hughes, or 1980′s film soundtracks……so, I’m in the doctor’s office picking up antibiotics for my child, when I look up and see a tall man, eyes droopy and sad, skin pale and pasty, his eyes seem to say, “I’m a puppy dog. I am eternally longing for you. My love is unrequited and even though I am in the popular crowd and you’re not, I’m really sensitive and sweet. And…”Blah, blah, blah…I shake my germ ridden skull, am I hallucinating? No. Andrew McCarthy is loping towards me looking, well, looking like he too has been struck with the flu. Droopy, red rimmed eyes? Check. Pale, almost greenish tinted skin? Check. Lost, almost delirious expression? Check.So there it is. Andrew McCarthy is sick. He has some form of lifelong plague-like flu that constantly makes him look like he’s half-asleep and love-sick.There we were. Both helplessly trying to reign in our wild with fever children. Both looking as though we needed to be put to bed with a vial of “germ be gone” and a quart of NyQuil to wash it down. It was as if we were destined to be together, whining and snotty, cuddled in fetal positions around a box of tissues.My only query is this…what song should be playing in the background as we lay there, shivering from the chills and staring blankly, yet meaningfully into each other’s eyes?
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IT WALKS, IT TALKS
December 11th, 2009 § Leave a Comment
IT WEARS CUTE OUTFITS…
Via SATees: Big Words for Little Kids | CafePress
Remember the time “BC” (Before Child)? When it seemed so *sigh* difficult (insert woe is me, hand to forehead, dramatic faint/swoon) find time to get everything(i.e. hair cut/color, eyebrow shaping, bikini wax, read a novel/magazine, window shop, you know, the really important stuff) done?
Oh how momma misses those crazy “busy” days. Those days of good hair and hairless limbs n’ such. The days of long showers with scrubs and potions. The days of walking out of the house for five minutes that stretches into five hours of unencumbered nothing-ness.
But then came baby. And you think it’s difficult, and then baby gets bigger and you think, no, this is more difficult. And THEN…baby starts to walk. And talk. And you think…sweet mother of Christ, THIS is really, really difficult. And if it gets any more difficult I may pull every mother-bugging hair out of my (dirty) skull.
And this is why they are so cute. And this is why they waddle over to you like miniature Frankenstein, arms covered in mashed banana outstretched, and they say, “Mamma, mamma…Kiss kiss.” And you get all melty and oogley and open your arms for the big, messy, clumsy “Kiss kiss” heading in your direction.
TOYS FOR TOTS
December 11th, 2009 § Leave a Comment
Being a mom opens up a whole new door in jewelry gifting land. The “push present”? Never heard of it until I was preparing to, well, PUSH. And once I got wind that such a thing existed, you better believe I wanted one. A BIG one. Take it from me, no matter what the gift, it doesn’t come close to being enough of a thank you for all the joys of being preggo and then the extra special experience of getting that damn kid out. Hello THREE DAYS of labor. There are those that will say the gift is your heavenly little child.True. But there is nothing wrong with some bling to go along with the bundle of joy.I love this necklace. It’s subtle and doesn’t scream – having a baby has stolen all my sense of style (i.e. pastel and diamond baby booty hanging around neck? Puleez.)
YOU SEXY MOTHER PLUCKER
December 11th, 2009 § Leave a Comment
Here is one of those troubling thoughts that runs through my head over and over again like a record skipping.
I wonder…does anyone ever send in their Tweezerman tweezers for the “free sharpening“?
I don’t. Which explains why I have approximately fifteen tweezers. Yes, a bit excessive, but I am addicted to the magnifying mirror late, late at night (which is another post all together).
This collection of torture tools doesn’t even count the multiple tweezers that have been compensated at various airports throughout the world. I take this risk because I can’t travel without these devils. Have you ever noticed how you can see EVERY pore in an airplane bathroom mirror? I fear finding some blaring growth screaming for a pluck and being empty handed, and therefore basically stuck with a beard or some such atrocity until I can make it to the local drug store.
So, again, my question is, if I send Tweezerman a package of multiple tweezers in need of a tune up, what happens? How long until I get them back? Where do they go?
I need to know the answers. Someone help me please.
