Somethin’s a shitting in our yard, and I don’t think it’s Sonny.
For once, I’m not blaming the neighbor kids. For this. For cranking on a toy accordian while Jojo and I tried to nap this afternoon? Oh yes, that was them. But not for punchin’ pellets in the yard.
it’s Friday, and I’m still at work and will be here for the foreseeable lifetime. I had to call Mr. Squirrel at home (sick) and BEG him to drive 20 minutes (both ways) to pick up Jojo from daycare so I can get this (insert foulest language you know) annual (wha? It’s September, gov’t peeps) report out. For the love.
Did I mention that I got less than 4 hours of sleep because the one-two punch of (1) 9pm cheese quesadilla intake and (2) Jojo’s decision to start today at MIDNIGHT WHAT THE F, JOJO? Seriously. We were up for like 2 hours, as I attempted (unsuccessfully, obv.) to take him into bed with me. Yeah, why did I think that would suddenly work?
So I decided, just now, to check my email, and one of my dearest friends from the State of Cheese emailed me this funny YouTube video. JUST what I needed to bring a smile back to my bitter face.
Happy weekend to all ya’ll who are, ya know, planning on seeing loved ones or even your couch tonight.
So I didn’t puke yesterday! What’s with that? I’m giving the baby credit for that. She/he’s probably grasping at every nutrient (Nutella, apple, Wendy’s value meal #1, um… that’s about it) I’ve eaten in the past 2 days. Due to the nasty cold/sinus infunktion/migraine, I’ve lost weight, but baby is fine! I feel bad for not speaking much about Cletus McFetus (thank you for the TEMPORARY nickname), so:
Things you should know about Cletus McFetus:
1. I don’t know YET whether Cletus truly is a Cletus or a Cletusita, but I’ll find out on October 25, barring no crossed legs or uncooperative positioning.
2. And yes, I’ll share this news with you!
3. Cletus kicked me this past Saturday! Love the early kicking…not so much months 8-10.
4. Jojo loves Cletus, even though I’m not sure he gets it. Kissing the belly, resting his head on me and waving hello all make me swoon with joy. Even when he commands “baby out!” Let’s let the baby cook a little longer.
5. Through no fault of Cletus’, my OB already frets that Cletus will emerge as large & stitch-worthy as dear Jojo. Urgent questions such as “are you SURE you want to do this again?” and repeated mutterings of “so many stitches…so many stitches…” lead me to believe Jojo may have traumatized my veteran OB. Well, ladycakes, buck up: it’s my vagina, and we’re at Go.
6. So far, Cletus doesn’t crave chicken quesadillas like Jojo; in fact, he/she isn’t quite as ravenous as Jojo, in general.
7. Cletus will be moving into Jojo’s room, which works exceedingly well as a nursery. How many months does that leave us to transition Jojo to his brand new awesomely cool big boy room (to be redecorated) with the big boy bed (to be figured out)? Yah. How’s my sell job?
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Things you should know about dream about Dr. House/Hugh Laurie:
1. No, the cane was not involved. Some of you have very active and naughty imaginations.
2. It was Dr. Greg House, not Hugh Laurie, starring in ma yummy dream. Seriously, I have the hots for him, even though he’s atrocious to most everyone. Hello? I also had an unhealthy crush on Nate Fisher. Let’s altogether say: “Stacy, he’s not good for you.”
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Things you should do right now:
1. Go on over and wish Slackermommy a fantastically fabulous BIRTHDAY! Hope ya get out of your pjs & are out having a fabulous night!
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Things I have to do with the Fall TV Schedule/My Tivo:
1. Cross out “Private Practice”. I’m no Professional Reviewer of TV Shows, but in my humble, tv-addicted opinion: it blew. Thank you for freeing up that time to catch up on my favorite blogs.
2. Fine, I’ll give “Samantha Who?” a chance. FINE.
3. But I have NO room for “How I Met Your Mother” in my shhedule. I know. I know.
4. Must work in “Dancing with the Stars.” Somehow.
And just so you know:
Like “Chuck”
Like “Bionic Woman”
Like “Journeyman”
What time will I vomit today? It’s 12:16 pm, and the migraine knocks loudly on its standard three locations of my painful noggin. There’s no use denying it, it’s coming.
Also: what’s that smell?
And: random pregnancy sex dream starring Dr. Greg House, who had a bumpy, gross, dry, nasty tongue. But I still did him (in my dreams). It’s the hormones, people.
No spreadsheet included, since the police haven’t returned my calls, let alone solved the mystery of the missing spreadsheet. I’m just going to have to list it out, old school style:
Please note: We do not have Showtime or HBO (sob). I must also admit, this is by far my least excitable season that I can remember. I mean, look at Sunday…ONE SHOW? What? I just can’t get excited about some of these returning or new shows; and, with Lost, Project Runway and some other shows not returning until later in the season, I don’t know, people, I’m just not feeling it. Shows in italics are watched live, while everything else gets Tivo’d. Parenthetically enclosed shows may be watched live or might not, depending on mood.
SUNDAY: Desperate Housewives
MONDAY: Chuck, Prison Break, Heroes, K-ville, Journeyman
TUESDAY: The Unit*, House, (We usually watch The Biggest Loser, but with its 90 minute program, we’ll miss the last half hour watching House live…what to do, what to do?)
WEDNESDAY: America’s Next Top Model, Private Practice, Bionic Woman, Dirty Sexy Money, Life, Top Chef
THURSDAY*: My Name is Earl, 30 Rock, Grey’s Anatomy, The Office, (Scrubs), Without a Trace
FRIDAY: Women’s Murder Club, Numb3rs
SATURDAY: hahahaha, oh good one, Stacy.
*Explanation for The Unit — this one’s all Mr. Squirrel, although I’m always annoying him by asking about the soldiers’ personal lives & wives, when he’s more interested in the missions and blowing stuff up.
*Thursday night apology: SORRY CSI. I heart you and plan to watch you in re-runs & during the summer. Please hold no grudge.
21 minutes and I cannot find my Exclusive Squirrel Family TV Schedule, carefully and artfully composed from culling several websites and entertainment magazines. Oh dear lord this has never happened. Which Saint do I pray to to find stuff? St. Christopher? Dude. Help! Whoever. This is IMPORTANT.
I have looked everywhere and sworn quite foul-ly (word? Yes!) at a National Geographic map, peeking out from beneath a mountain of stupid ass nature magazines.
I’m no detective (but I do watch them on tv); ergo, I’m pretty sure a crime has been committed here at Squirrel Headquarters. Someone hell bent on owning thee best guide to Fall TV has broken into our house (probably through the side door which someone (Mr. S.) left open last night) and stolen my g.d. spreadsheet.
Mr. Squirrel, not quite as upset as me…well, he’s upset at me…thinks we can handle this on the fly. “Tivo will start recording one thing, and we’ll flip through and find something else.” Oh, Mr. Ivy League’s FULL of ideas. FINE.
BUT WHAT ABOUT TOMORROW? WHAT ABOUT TUESDAY, GENIUS BOY? HUH?
Deep breathing…everything will be o.k…
rainbows and unicorns…rainbows and unicorns…
OH WAIT. Speaking of unicorns…
So next door neighbor boy spent the afternoon attempting to catch a squirrel, chipmunk or bird. I’m not sure why. Let’s not ask. Oh yes, next to my house (my property, natch), sat a makeshi(f)t chipmunk trap, constructed from a ripped butterfly net, 2 flexible/foldable frisbees and a very dirty beach towel. Needless to say, no chipmunks were trapped. Who’s got the pea-brain now?
Anyhoo, neighbor boy wanted to know which animal I wanted him to catch for me! Oh lucky! Yes. I want you to catch me my stolen tv spreadsheet. Can ya do that? No…probably because he asked before I knew a crime was committed. Nevertheless, I told him I wanted him to catch me a unicorn.
Neighbor boy: “Ok, but you have to pay for my plane ticket to Australia.”
Who’s chipping in with me?
Oh, you are! You all are. Ginormous high on coffee group hug.
But who’s the winner of the latest What the J? contest? Well now, that’s a different story entirely.
I’m actually very embarrassed that I get all excited about my contest, with its paltry prizes, compared to say a contest with over 1800 entries and a $600 prize. But hey, that’s like 2 car payments to this family…or one car payment & money to fix a certain something that a certain someone* scraped the shit out of. (*We don’t want to play the blame game. That’s no fun…for me.) Moving on…
Coneffingratulations to … Barnmouse!
Congrats, Barnmouse!! Send me your address, chica, & I’ll send ya a prize! YAY!
The thing about smoking while doing your job as a garbage collector: you’re hanging off the back of a garbage truck. A dirty, filthy truck. So when you need to remove the cigarette from your mouth to breathe/exhale/yell to your fellow collector, the germy hands which clung to the filthy truck now touch said cigarette…which sticks out from your mouth. Need I go further? Blech. I think I’ll go heave.
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So I had another angry dream last night. This one had me so riled up that I woke to the sounds of Mr. Squirrel trying to comfort me, since my own murmuring and, eventually, yelling out, woke him. But wouldn’t you be pissed if you found out that for your cousin’s wedding, your own mother ok’d your cousin to parachute into the ceremony WITH Jojo? My Jojo– parachuting? Yeah, I was a tad outraged. She and my dad just sat there, marveling at my anger, while my mom passively flipped through a Good Housekeeping while I ranted and raved. Oh, I was pissed! In my dream, I was yelling so loudly and forcefully that I lost my voice. And today, I have a sore throat. Coincidence?
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Also: Happy 23 months to my sweetest little Jojo in the WHOLE WORLD. Momma loves you SO much. Gush. Kiss. Squeeze.
And yes, sweetie, you can have an apple on the way home from daycare today. I swear, had I been awake, I would have counted the number of times he asked for an apple (or should I say appleS) on the drive to daycare. Serenity now. I remained steadfast though and wouldn’t let him have one — instead, attempting to curb the whining with counting buses & Bobs (any sort of construction equipment). Should you have a boy one day, may I introduce you to a skid steer? The excavator? A back HOe?
No My Little Mermaid dolls for Jojo… so who remembers these awesome little 80s bathtub toys? The 4-5 inch tall dolls with the silky hair came with a lilypad shaped green sponge, a comb (for the silky hair) & maybe a shell? The sponge had a hole in the middle so your doll could float all raft-like amidst the bubbles. I owned the blonde (naturally), brunette and redheaded ones. Not sure if there were others, but I loved combing their hair. I can’t find them anywhere online. Trust me, they rocked. And if you didn’t have them in the 80s, I’d consider suing your parents for neglect.
but I can’t do my job when Mr. Squirrel won’t do his.
I asked him nicely to pick the winner of the last What the J? contest, but he’s been working since we put Jojo to bed & now he’s taking a break in front of the Mets game, which isn’t going well, so he’ll be crabby. I think we’ll have to wait one more long day without knowing. OH the pain. (wait — the Mets are in the lead. We may have an answer sooner…)
Please, while I have your attention, take a looksee at the birthday card Mr. Squirrel’s grandma sent him. Apparently, she thought Jojo would like it. Still. It’s a kitty…how precious for my 31 year old sweetie.
My dreams as of late have been quite…um, what’s the word, angry? Yes. I believe some unresolved issues remain regarding my displeasure at the behavior of my next door neighbor’s kids. Just last week, I awoke and immediately guiltily thought “oh shit, did I really yank back on the 8 year old boy’s shirt and hiss ‘if you touch my son again, I will kill you?’”
Whew, no. Just a dream.
And yesterday? His six year old sister made an appearance during the night. She also received a face-to-face verbal threat, passionately punctuated through clenched teeth.
Are they mean to Jojo? No. If they do irritate or hurt him, it’s completely unintentional, by accident & I know they do like him. My annoyance mainly stems from their behavior towards other kids in the neighborhood and their parents and their general disrespect for property lines (mainly, the line separating my yard from theirs…and my Japanese maple…GET OFF MY JAPANESE MAPLE). Ahem. Excuse me.
I think maybe this topic should be addressed at my next therapy appointment.
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Remember how I went all temper tantrum over my Entertainment Weekly Fall TV Preview edition? Well, I’m still really bitter, but thought I could make due with a TV Guide. The TV Guide, my high school summer vacation bff. Oh no, idiot me bought the “Returning Favorites” edition which speaks NOTHING of new shoes. NOTHING. IDIOT!
Why do I even need a guide when I could just hop on over to TV Goddess and check out her picks? Good idea. And oh, while you’re over there, wish DeAnn a HAPPY BIRTHDAY!
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Random Jojo pictures…because I care:
What happens in Walnut Grove stays in Walnut Grove.
(shirt courtesy of the multi-talented Isabel)
What we did this morning– went for a hayride, picked apples & ate cider donuts…Jojo ate the entire apple, core & all. But he’s ok. I promise.
