Lots of Locks

Remember how I said I was going to cut off my hair?
Well I meant it.

In the 80's it sorta looked like this...

( In this shot my hair is singing: I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you, I knew you were right...believing for so long...)

Great shot of the gray streaks.

No turning back now...

The carnage...I mean donation...

Ahhhh...now that is SO much better!

For more information, or if you would like to donate please go to the Locks of Loves website!

squash crackin

The recipe said I needed to peel the skin off this....
...but it is not so much skin as rind. Can you peel rind?

Yes...recipe...not instructions on a box for how long to microwave it.

Here is proof of an actual attempt at cooking something in the Casa de Clink.

(looking for stove top manual to figure out how to turn the thing on)

So how do you suggest I do this?

(contemplating enlisting local squirrel)

It broke my carrot peeler and I almost cut my finger off using a knife.

For someone who doesn't cook I have a killer knife set.

You know, out of the box sharp because they never get used. Well that is not completely true. I use one in particular all the time to cut vegetables of the simple to peel variety.

Is there some kind of peeler of phallic vegetables on the market that I am unaware of?

(I know what you are thinking...get your mind out of the gutter)

Whats that you say?

Baby on the counter? I don't see a baby on the counter.

(whistles innocently)

If there is a baby and a bouncy seat on the counter and no one is there to reprimand you is it still wrong?

Later that night....

Me: Is it ok if I have this here last brownie?

Spouse: Sure

Me: Are you sure sure, it's sorta huge and you know, my ass certainly doesn't need more brownies...

Spouse: I don't care about your ass, I care about your happiness...

awwwwwwwww

sugar snap peas too...

I have always been one for getting on a band wagon once it is old and dusty. So in light of that I am posting my Under-Rated Pleasures.

I got this nifty idea (a really long time ago) for a post from here and here.

(drumroll...)

The Beatles: In My Life.

Any Beatles fan would argue with you that their favorite song is the all time best Beatles song ever. The fact is they are probably right. The Beatles are just that good. For me however, In My Life touches my soul in a way that very few pieces of art can. A master piece; it grounds me.

But of all these friends and lovers

There is no one compares with you

And these memories lose their meaning

When I think of love as something new

Though I know I'll never lose affection

For people and things that went before

I know I'll often stop and think about them

In my life

I love you more

I want to cry right now.

Canceling Christmas.

This is not a Bah-Humbug kind of thing. I love Christmas. It's my very favorite holiday; running just ahead of my birthday, which yes, I consider a holiday. The birthday would win of course but alas! Not everyone has the day off work and no one has trees decorated in my honor.

So we canceled Christmas...For the third year running mind you and it turned out to be not so bad.

Three years ago, no cookies or cookie parties.
Last year, no home decoration, cookies or cookie parties.
This year, no presents, empty consumerism, decoration, cookies or cookie parties.

Do you see where I am going with this? What was I left with?? Family. That's right, Christmas this year was just about my family. Me, Spouse, the little monkey and my Father. Throw in a splash of my Mothers best friend Nancy and I was beyond content. This is what is should be about!! In fact I think I may cancel all future holidays!

Oh and it doesn't hurt that for the first time in 15 years I was not traveling to NY to be with my Irish cousins...all gazillion of us. This year due to my Dads health (whole other post) and the monkey we took the year off. It truly is my favorite thing to do in the world but this year I needed the break! Sheesh I just had the kid you know?

Wrapping Presents.

Yeah this one goes against the general grain of the last one but I don't mean just Christmas presents. Any kind of present. I love to wrap. I love wrapping paper and ribbon....I have boxes of ribbon. Wired ribbon especially makes me swoon. We are talking fetish here. One of my all time favorite things to do is to wrap a gift for someone; to make it beautiful. Just thinking about it makes me want to go wrap something. I get more pleasure in the persons reaction to the way the gift looks then their reaction to the gift. For the holidays especially each and every gifts appearance is unique; they take on a life of their own.

I get this talent from my mother....She made everything beautiful.

Being alone.

When I run errands....by myself.... I really take my time! There is no one living inside me, no one in the car seat, no one on the boob...it is just me. It is lovely. I just love a leisurely drive...I love my Jeep...and I love being in it...alone.

Hovering.

Now ladies we all know this one. The art of the public restroom hover. Road trips during pregnancy meant lots and lots of pit stops with lots and lots of unclean seats and a belly too big for me to hover. My nether-regions cowered in fear. It was awful. Wet Ones anyone??

Now when I am in public and I hear natures call...no worries...hover baby. Hover all the way!!!!!!

It is glorious.

You know, its all relative.

Pizza.

Good Pizza. The pizza I was raised on. NYC/NJ pizza. The crust to sauce to cheese ratio is always evolving. It depends where you go. It depends which guy makes it that day. The one thing you can be sure of is no matter what, even bad pizza in NJ is good. So good. The best New England pizza can not even hold a candle to the worst NYC/NJ pizza. I have had it all over the country and there is never a comparison.

Strangely the same thing goes for Bagels.

To all the people who live some place that's else...you don't know what you're missing. Get your butts moving, come to NYC/NJ (they really are one state you know) and get yourself a slice. That's right a slice...triangular. Imagine my horror when I opened my first New England pizza box and found a round pie cut into squares.

WTF?

Now you! I'm waiting.

What's it worth to ya?

Please remind me the next time I bet Spouse on something...not to do it.

Well at least, not to wager who has to clean the upstairs toilets....

...and not to put my money on this guy.

You got it right; Spouse and I bet household chores on American Idol.

Last night I was on the loosing end. (heh, get it?)

But this morning I was a winner! Because I woke up to this....

(shameless excuse to show off little monkey)

What do you bet on?

What's it worth to ya?

Her Crowning Glory.

I haven't cut my hair in about 12 years.

(not on purpose anyways)

My hair is my only real vanity. Well and my nails, but for the purpose of this post it is all about my hair.

As my Bubs (Jewish Grandmother) always said..."A woman's hair is her crowning glory".

(Imagine her saying this with great flair and drama...all Bubbies talk with great flair and drama)

Bubs:


Clearly a bumper is not a woman's crowning glory.

(more on her later)

Traumatized at the tender age of 9; a blind Irish nun thought I was a boy- I decided I would never ever cut my hair again.

And I stuck to it.

What I grew was a poofy 1980's blown out disaster.

If 'Air Supply' was a hair style it was mine.

You know the Pekingese? Sorta like that without the low to the ground waddle.

I thought I was all that.

Then, when I was about 16 I realized that my hair was actually curly.

We're talking spirals.

Doh!

I flooffed, I flounced, I fluffed.
I hung my head upside down to shake and shimmy every curl into perfect placement.

Great care and execution was taken in hair presentation.

But now?

Who has time to flooff, flounce, shake, shimmy or you know...wash hair this long?

My once cascading waterfall of auburn curls has been reduced to a near dreadlocked state....and it's gray.

Gray!
(%^*#!&$ Irish blood)

So I am cutting it off! Off I say! Off with the hair!

Locks of Love OFF!

But I am freakin' man.

Freakin'-out.

Because, the only times I have attempted so much as a trim I have been butchered by sadistic bottom dwellers.

So I asked my OB, who has very much the same hair type as I do -where she went.

I mean I trusted her with the life of my child so my hair is the next natural progression right?

Right?

...and next Saturday...

(the 23rd, not the 16th; as I believe the 16th to be this Saturday therefore making the 23rd the next one...get it? Spouse doesn't, this is an argument we have daily.)

...next Saturday I am going in.

Cut. Color. Style.

And again I say I am FREAKIN'...

Because what I want is this:

But what I fear I am going to end up with is this:

Blind Irish nun indeed.

This Morning...

The baby is...

I spend an awful amount of time examining and making fun of the stress factors of new motherhood.

So for a twist of events...lets examine and make fun of some pretty good things.

I am back in my VS undies folks. That's right! And no matter how broke we are (ahem, Superbowl) I am buying mama some brand new spankies!

I am back to my pre-pregnancy weight. Granted, everything is in a different place but who cares? WAHOO!

Crazy statistic..I packed on 40 lbs while the bun was in the oven...ummm but that was ALL gained in the last 12 weeks...(this is what happens when you are sick for 28 weeks and then wake up hungry one day...very very very hungry).

However, it has taken just under 10 weeks to ship it off. All this while doing nothing but breast feeding. Imagine what will happen when I actually do crazy stuff like eat right and exercise.

The baby is a road warrior. A warrior I say! While putting her in the car seat induces absolute defiance on every level, the actual road tripping is a breeze.

Up and down the east coast this kid puts on a show for all she meets. Yesterday in fact she had a very in depth conversation with the crinkly cricket hanging in the back seat. I can not imagine what they were discussing but the cricket for one was taking it very seriously.

Ready for this one? I can sleep on my belly!

On.My.Belly.

This means so much to me that I even punctuated the entire sentence (which I never do)...I will even do it again with greater enthusiasm so you really get it.

On!My!Belly!

Spouse and I actually had a moment last night where we didn't hate each other. Our neighbors were here for dinner (check us out being all adult like) the baby was sleeping and we were talking to other people but no matter!

There was no crankiness or aggravated tones to our voices. We were both (dare I say it?) happy at the same time, in the same room. For the same reason.

...and finally...Spouse is upstairs right now giving his daughter a bottle and putting her down for a nap...and I'm doing this!

Rock on!

(Oh and for those of you interested in that dandy graphic up top you can get it here. Just be sure to get your wallet out first so you don't have to get up when you are all like "ooohhhh" and "aaaahhhhh" and "I have to have that!")

Tis' the season

Wiwey is 2 months old!


Now that I have your attention...

I live in the northeast and we sure love our seasons!!

Football Season.

Baseball Season.

American Idol Season.

Yeah...I'm that girl.

Let the games begin.

Oh and on the subject of pointless but ruthlessly entertaining reality TV.

I think it is going to be Christian, Jillian and Romi in the final 3 for Project Runway.

Christian wins...he is such the princess and I love him!

Fair Market Value

The thing about my baby is she deprecates in value every day.

Sorta like a new car.

She even has that new baby smell....you know, spit up and soiled diapers.

Yesterday morning she giggled for the first time. Giggled! I don't think she meant to do it, and I may have scared her a bit with my "Holy crap!" reaction....

So last night she decided to do it again. You know, at 2 AM.

She tried and tried. Ummm...until about 5 AM.

Problem is, I refuse to acknowledge any creature in the middle of the night, I don't care how cute it is.

Spouse refused to acknowledge her too. Her smiling, cooing, kicking, arm flailing self went completely ignored.

For 3 hours.

In the middle of the night.

Instead Spouse and I starred at each other while she flailed between us.

We didn't say a word. We just looked accusingly at each other.... "It is your fault she is this cute" looks on our faces.

This morning both Spouse and I are dying....dying we are so tired.

Which for me, is a very dangerous prospect indeed.

The baby?

Resale value of just a little bit less then yesterday.

We did however realize in our non-sleeping states we may have made a mistake on her name.

You know how toddlers pronounce 'R' and 'L' as 'W'?

That would make her "Wiwey"

"Hewwo, I'm, Wiwey (Suwname)!"

...and a very happy XLII to you!

Oh.
My.
Giants!

For those of you who may not understand and/or care about professional sports here is something you will get into.

My baby fell asleep at 4pm.

She woke up for a very late dinner at 11pm.

She is back asleep.

She actually let me watch the Superbowl...uninterrupted.

She must love me lots!

If the Giants hadn't just won the Superbowl then that would make me feel like I won the Superbowl.

Ya know?

Maybe not....

Can I say Superbowl anymore?

Superbowl-Superbowl-Superbowl

hehe.

Can't Sleep...Clowns Will Eat Me....

ehhh...So the Peanut M&M Candies I bought today say "Tear 'n Share Size" on the package...

I ate the whole bag.

Who are they to tell me if I should share my candies?

Do you think some people feel inadequate with their lives based on what commercial packaging tells them?

Subliminal inadequacies?

______________________________________

I can't watch those "How Its Made" food shows.

If I watch mass production of a food I can never eat it again.

Like when I saw how they made Gummi Bears. Trust me you do not want to know.

Not that I even like Gummi Bears.

Once, when I went to see the second Lord of the Rings there was one stuck to the movie screen.

A red one. I watched him travel across middle earth. Pretty dramatic stuff.

______________________________________

Talking food bothers me.

Not Veggie Tale talking food...advertising talking food.

The M&M guys, The California Raisins, The California Cows, The Shredded Mini-Wheat guy who wants to stalk your children to school.

Wanda Sykes as an apple for Crapplebees...

...and why is the Peanut M&M guy kinda stupid? The regular one seems ok, although admittedly he has a bit of attitude. He doesn't seem fond of the Peanut...I am not even sure why they hang out together.

There was one M&M commercial from last year where a guy pours a bag of the candy down his throat.

The animated M&Ms actually looked scared.

What kind of advertising is that?

What little things bother you??