Archive for the 'I’m an Idiot' Category
-image-Happy 2012!
Things I forgot to tell you about in 2011:
1. We went to Vegas for Thanksgiving.
2. I crafted or sewed at least 10 gifts this year — it was such fun, and I plan to do more for next year.
3. Jojo has a girlfriend. Or so he says.
4. My six-year bloggiversary was 12/26… oops.
5. I think I blogged less than any other year in blogtory… double oops.
6. My hubby and I haven’t slept in the same bed in 3 months, but last night we DID because we finally bought some split-boxed springs for our upstairs bed. We now have to high jump into bed. I could have said “pole vault” but I know some of you would take that the wrong way. Sickos.
7. I’ve become a much better artist because Jojo BEGS ME almost constantly to draw him Pokemon figures or Dragonvale dragons. According to my six year old, I am “better than an artist — a genius… a professional!” LOVE him.
8. Nugget is driving me nuts as he attempts to become the house dictator. Luckily, he’s still squishy and cute and I can pin this dictator down and smother him in annoying mommy kisses.
9. I’m toying with some names of the Etsy store I’ll most likely open. Top secret, natch.
Anyway, thank you for checking in with me this lovely year! Off to draw dragons.
xoxoxo
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
3:33 pm |
-image-Oops
I accidentally freaked out many friends this evening by posting this seemingly innocent status update:
one of the perks of getting a bigger tummy? Your son stops asking for a Pillow Pet.
I’m just overweight, and at least one person in the family seems to adore the “mushy” tummy. Jojo loves the mushy, squishy “pillow.” He claims it as his own.
After I posted that status, I left the computer and hustled the boys upstairs for bath, books and bedtime, all the while leaving a couple of friends on the edge of their seats — thinking I’d set up a teaser for the Big Reveal.
Nope. I’m just a clueless, unpregnant dope.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
7:48 pm |
-image-Sometimes When I’m on Facebook
I think to myself:
1. Wow, I don’t have the worst last name in the world.
2. If I were your friend, I’d get that legally changed.
3. Why would you pass that daily horror of a last name onto future generations?
4. Your friend dresses like a whore.
5. Your friend doesn’t make smart decisions with comments made/pictures posted…what’s your connection to her?
6. You’re friends with a lot of men I would consider douche-bags. Maybe I’m missing something.
7. I’m wasting a lot of time judging other people.
8. I should probably go spend time with my children.
9. I should probably go clean the house.
10. I should really try and see The Social Network.
11. Especially since the star’s dad was my favorite grad school professor.
12. Maybe I’ll just see again if he’s on Facebook.
13. Maybe I’ll see if some of my favorite high school teachers are on Facebook.
14. Maybe I should get a life.
15. Ok fine. I’ll log off now.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
11:33 am |
-image-And I Don’t Play One On TV
I, my friends, am not a psychic. After watching every single episode of Medium (7 years over 2 networks — way to screw that up, NBC), when Mr. Squirrel and I sat down to watch our Tivo’d episode, we had NO FRIGGIN idea it was the last show. ever.
So when the plotline (and I won’t spoil anything) pointed to something undesirable happening to Joe, the patriarch of the DuBois family, I was all “OH THEY’D BETTER NOT TAKE JOE OFF THE SHOW” with such fierceness that it woke my husband from his tv-watching stupor to question why such a reaction. I blurted out my (what I thought was OBVIOUS) love for Joe. He’s the best tv husband Of All Time, take THAT Mike Brady!
Soon after the initial signs of impending doom for my Joe (ok, shit, I’m spoiling and soiling myself), the tears were pouring, the husband was mocking and well, all felt crafts had to be put aside so I could properly mourn a loss or two on the show and then for myself, because HOLY BATBALLS MISS CLEO, I had no stinkin’ clue! None! NONE that this would be the last show. I needed some prep here; at least I’m getting some closure. Wah.
Seriously. I’m so sad. It was one of the few shows that my husband and I looked forward to watching together (which leaves 30 Rock, Psych, The Office, Community and The Closer, which is on hiatus and actually bothers Mr. Squirrel because he cannot fathom why Fritz is with Brenda Lee — oh but look, it’s almost over with, too. Great. At least I’m prepared. Let’s begin healing now.).
Who’s your ideal tv husband? Might I find a new one to comfort me in my time of mourning?
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
9:47 pm |
-image-It Could be Worse
I overhead Jojo, my five year old, telling a story to my husband using my yadda-yadda filler, “and meow-meow-meow” before finishing his riveting tale of robots learning how to paint.
And least he’s not repeating my “holy shitballs!” I yelled at a bad motorist the other day.
In other news, I’m busily addressing holiday cards, trying to ascertain which “main address list” to use from the THREE in my house (main computer, laptop, and hardcopy). Seriously. A little prep next time, self.
Also, I can’t stop crafting. Like I have a problem. And they’re not Martha-esque (check out these precious gingerbread men dolls…ahem).
If you’re friends with me on Facebook, you may have seen some of the *treasures* and remember that should I magically gain some motivation in the future, attempt to start my own version of Etsy called Crapsy (for crappy homemade stuff!). I know. Sign up now. I’ll post some more pics soon. You guys will be fighting over Mr. Squirrel’s T-Rex…yeah, the disease has infected him, too.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
11:25 am |
-image-Not my best choice.
I skipped pilates so I could read sewing magazines at Barnes & Noble and kick back a pumpkin spice latte…and possibly a scone.
When I ordered my drink, I flubbed up and asked for a “spunkin latte.”
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
8:33 pm |
-image-Insecurity Resurfacing in the Form of…
JEGGINGS.
OH MY DEAR LORD I just purchased leggings…made of denim…with cargo pockets…and ZIPPERS AT THE ANKLES.
I completely blame my insecure high school self — it has to be her. Who else would be mourning the donation of her old Benetton and Esprit sweaters at a time like this? And my light pink hightops? At least I can find some thick black eyeliner in any solid drugstore, RIGHT? Good.
And if the fullblown Panic Shopping isn’t enough self-imposed drama for ya, how ‘bought my sophomore year boyfriend poking me on Facebook?! Out of the blue!? POKING ME. Not requesting to be my friend, but just POKING ME! That’s soooo him. BAH!
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
1:13 pm |
-image-If I Had a Hammer…
As we all know and love, Halloween is the next important kidcentric holiday. It’s not even October, and the boys and I have already:
1. visited the Halloween section of Target numerous times to get scared by the creeping witch and spooky ghost.
2. purchased Halloween decorations for the house and dug up the stored Halloween decorations in the basement.
3. decorated the house.
3a. decorated the outside of the house (thank you, Mr. Squirrel!).
4. bought the kids’ Halloween costumes.
5. bought waaaayyyy too much candy.
6. discovered my stash of Halloween-themed kids books and read all seven of them.
7. bought and baked Halloween cookies.
8. painted pumpkins.
9. carved pumpkins.
10. threw away rotten carved pumpkins.
11. visited the local (awesome) costume store to check out other costumes and decorations.
12. glued & glittered an awesome Martha Stewart Halloween craft bought after Halloween last year.
13. watched the Go Diego Go Halloween DVD.
14. readied all six of our Halloween candy carriers/bags for candy collection.
15. poured over every Costume and/or Halloween-related catalog that has been delivered to us.
16. worn the Halloween costumes and practiced saying “Trick or treat!!!”
So, who here thinks I shot my proverbial Halloween wad?
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
5:32 pm |
-image-High School (Reunion) Musical
My 20 year high school reunion is this weekend. I am going. Commence freak out about what to wear.
Yeah, I should have probably planned ahead for this.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
9:30 pm |
-image-The Trauma Continues
We took a vacation last month. I could comb through the 2.3 zillion pictures of my boys digging on the beach, or I could post a picture of THIS THING:
which somehow came to be ON MY OWN PERSONAL BODY and which I flicked off faster than I’ve possibly ever moved in my entire life.
I sort of screamed, but my first words to Mr. Squirrel were “get the bug cage and the camera!” Because I knew, in the split second I saw and flicked, that this creature was unlike any other nasty spider I’d ever seen. Let alone found ON MY OWN PERSONAL BODY.
Did I mention that it was ON MY BODY? MY OWN PERSONAL NON-SPIDER-LIKING BODY? Yeah, on my hand.
And YES, Best Friend Whose Parents’ Cottage I Was At, it came INTO THE COTTAGE and came from somewhere NEAR YOUR BELOVED COTTAGE. You’ve been warned.
SO. There it was. Captured and Photographed. In one of my rare moments of smart quick thinking, I moved the bug cage outside since, HELLO, I purchased two of these pieces of crap from CVS a day or two before, and one was completely busted. I saw the spider escape on the wall.
Needless to say, the spider escaped through some crappily non-quality-controlled hole in the netting I’d missed spotting (not that I would have woven it closed with The Thing That Touched My Own Personal Body), but then, I don’t know why…maybe the spider loved that crappy plastic abode, but he returned.
He (or she) made a little nasty web (of death) inside, and then before we left the cottage, one of my kids (yeah, I’ll admit, I forgot which) decided we HAD to take the $3 piece of crap bug house, so Mr. Squirrel being the awesome father he is, scooped Death Spider out with a stick and LET IT GO.
Yes, Best Friend Whose Parents Own This Cottage/Death Spider Retreat, the spider is alive.
And I’m not so sure we’ll return next summer. Because did you see that thing? Seriously.
Posted by Mrs. Squirrel @
6:00 pm |
