Remote Blogging

It's 8 AM and I've already been in three states. I'm currently in Tennessee desperately hoping to find a Cracker Barrel soon.

Also, I may be putting my children up for auction right here on this very blog. Bidding will begin at a penny.

Are we there yet?

No Cheesy Coffee Cups For Me, Thank You

You know those cheesy gifts you get people when they turn 40 (or 50, or 60...) that say stuff like "over the hill?"

Sure you do.

(On an aside, my 40th birthday is coming up in a little over 7 years, you may want to be begin party planning now to assure a prime location for all attendees. Sushi would be an excellent choice for the party menu. As for gifts, no cheesy coffee cups for me, thank you, but I'd adore a convertible.)

My in-laws have a coffee cup that says:

Life begins at 40.
And so does cosmetic surgery, bladder trouble, high fiber diets, liver spots, hair replacement treatment, sitz baths, eczema and senility.

With the exception of liver spots, how is this any different than what happens after you become a mother?

Cosmetic surgery? F*ck yeah I need it. My boobs will be to my ankles after breastfeeding Carson and now Ella. My stomach will never be flat again without surgical intervention. There are a few other things I could think of that need work, but in the interest of not disgusting you all, I'll stop there.

Bladder trouble? Sneezing, coughing, laughing...all make me pee in my pants. Just a little.

High fiber diets? Not that I know anything about hemorrhoids, but I hear that high fiber diets are excellent in helping with this little (or enormous) gift of motherhood.

Hair replacement treatment? You know, from pulling it out in frustration over sleep issues, toddlers using poop for fingerpainting, and other "joys" of motherhood.

Sitz Baths? See high fiber diets. Also a definite must after childbirth.

Eczema? Am I the only one with weird skin issues after having a baby?

Senility? Pregnancy brain, coupled with the remainder of my brain leaking out of my boobs at each feeding, has made conversations with me sound like, "Can you get me that thing? The one over there in that thing? What? I'm supposed to be where right now? Shit."

See? Motherhood. It's the new 40.

Hungover Haiku

A caged animal
freed! Bring on the beers, bar maids!
Live band, beer, heaven!

Blue Moon, so tasty
1 beer, 2 beers, 3 beers, 4
Room begins to spin

Everything's funny!
Everyone's my new best friend!
Let's drink some more beer

A wise husband stops
"No more drinks, Jennifer"
Party is over

Three beers too many
Seemed like a good idea
Cold bathroom floor waits

To play along for Haiku Friday, follow these steps:

1. Write your own haiku on your blog. You can do one or many, all following a theme or just random. What's a haiku, you ask? Click here.

2. Sign the Mister Linky below with your name and the link to your haiku post (the specific post URL, not your generic blog URL). We will delete your link if it doesn't go to a haiku. If you need help with this, contact Christina or myself.

3. Pick up a Haiku Friday button to display on the post or in your sidebar by clicking the button above.

Thanksgiving Happy Style

I am thankful....

that I am not in Alabama right now.

that I won't be venturing out into the madness that is Black Friday.

for Sweet Potato Casserole.

for Target.

for my camera.

for DVR (although I hear TiVo is far superior).

for baby yawns.

for baby cuddles.

for baby breath.

for the thrill that Carson got playing with his little buddy's Thomas train set.

that my children are healthy.

for Pottery Barn and Pottery Barn Kids.

for the Internet.

for footie PJ's

for a great haircut.

for my friends and family.

for Tate.

Happy Turkey Day everyone! And for my Canadian, British, Australian, non-U.S. resident readers, Happy Thursday!

Wordless Wednesday: Home

For more Wordless Wednesday, go here.

This Lame Post Brought to You By NaBloPoMo

Have I ever told you all how much I loathe David Caruso?

Well, I do.

His character, Horatio, on CSI: Miami makes my skin crawl. I'd like to kick him and his sunglasses wearing, dramatic slow-talking, one-liner self in the balls.

That is all.

This lame post was brought to you by a brain-dead NaBloPoMo participant.

Reminiscing

The other day when I was finishing up the final post about how Tate and I came to be, I read through several pages of old emails that we'd sent back and forth.

I copied a few of them and re-emailed them to Tate with a note saying something about "remember when you used to write me these sweet emails."

That night, we reminisced about the things we used to do in early love.

"Remember when we could sit and just stare at each other for hours?"

Oh yeah. I do remember.

"Remember when we used to talk for hours on the phone and never run out of things to talk about."

Yeah (said dreamily).

"Remember when we didn't fart in front of each other?"

[Insert Beavis and Butthead laughing]

"Remember when you didn't nag me so much?"

Ahh, those were the days.

"Remember when I didn't mind it when you touched me?"

[Sigh]

"Remember when we would rather do it instead of sleep?"

[Verrrrry heavy sigh]

"Remember what is was like before kids and we could sleep in, leave at a moments notice without packing for an army, or when our lives weren't dictated by naps?"

Meh. This life is far better.

***********

I currently have very limited access to a computer. I last checked my email on Saturday at 3:30, cannot view my site on this computer, and am having severe withdrawal symptoms that include interacting with people face-to-face rather than on the computer.

See you all in a few days.