Thank God for Sesame Street

The ONLY thing that consoled him that day...

Cats and Dogs

From Patt:

A Dog's Diary
7 am - Oh boy! A walk! My favourite!
8 am - Oh boy! Dog food! My favourite!
9 am - Oh boy! The kids! My favourite!
Noon - Oh boy! The yard! My favourite!
2 pm - Oh boy! A car ride! My favourite!
3 pm - Oh boy! The kids! My favourite!
4 pm - Oh boy! Playing ball! My favourite!
6 pm - Oh boy! Welcome home Mom! My favourite!
7 pm - Oh boy! Welcome home Dad! My favourite!
8 pm - Oh boy! Dog food! My favourite!
9 pm - Oh boy! Tummy rubs on the couch! My favourite!
11 pm - Oh boy! Sleeping in my people's bed! My favourite!

A Cat's Diary
Day 183 of my captivity.
My captors continued to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects.
They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while I am forced to eat dry cereal.
The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of escape, and the mild satisfaction I get from clawing the furniture. Tomorrow I may eat another house plant.
Today my attempt to kill my captors by weaving around their feet while they were walking almost succeeded. Maybe I should try this at the top of the stairs.
In an attempt to disgust and repulse these vile oppressors, I once again induced myself to vomit on their favourite chair. I must try this on their bed.
Decapitated a mouse and brought them the headless body in an attempt to make them aware of what I am capable of, and to try to strike fear into their hearts. They only cooed and condescended about what a good little kitty cat I was. This is not working according to plan.
There was some sort of gathering of their accomplices. I was placed in solitary confinement throughout the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the food. More important, I overheard that my confinement was due to my powers of inducing something called "allergies." Must learn what this is and how to use it to my advantage.
I am convinced the other captives are flunkies and maybe snitches. The dog is routinely released and seems more than happy to return. He is obviously a half-wit.
The bird, on the other hand, has got to be an informant. He speaks with them regularly, and I am certain he reports my every move. Due to his current placement in the metal room, his safety is assured. But I can wait. It's only a matter of time.

Exersaucercise

Try with all your might to disregard my big mouth jabbering away in the background. I think I edited out all the "No shit!" comments. I said it like, ten times. To my dad. On the phone.

The look of pride and surprise on Jackson's face at the end of the video is priceless. So is his comeback to Joe's burp. Wait for it...

Things I Can't Live Without, Baby Edition, Part One

This one's for you, Keri!

• Carter's white, long sleeved onesies.
• Cloth diapers, used for everything but diapering.
• This seat. A gift from Sistahfriend Kristen. We use this EVERY DAY.
• This mirror. For wobbledy head checks.
• Boudreaux's Butt Paste
• The best tub ever.
• The Girlfriends' Guide to Surviving the First Year of Motherhood
• Socks from The Gap. They are the only ones that remain on those itty bitty scrumptious little toes.
• Pampers Sensitive Wipes. Like buttah. And snag a wipe warmer, too.
• Bath and Body Works Lavender pillow spray. Swear to GOD it relaxes both Jackson and Seth. And OHITISHEAVENLY.

That's all I can think of for now. I'm patiently waiting for my brain to return.

Love to Link You Babayyy

Babble. Looks like I'm a "New Urban Parent."

Whenever I am feeling sad and blue, I go to Cheeseburger.

Get your art on.

Vomitous Mess, Pt. Deux

That Which Doesn't Kill You Only Makes You Stronger

This vomitous mess, a week ago:






My happy, flitting little wild birds were all WTF. These pleasant, docile little creatures became screeching, aggressive beasts at the sight of seed.

Things only got better. I'm worried about Seth. Angry with Joe. I think Jackson is teething, ohhelpmeGOD. And these photos? It's gonna happen again this weekend. My patience is threadbare.

That retching sound you hear, far, far away? That's me.

BUT. BUT! Bad things always happen in nasty little clumps. Like hair in the bathtub drain. So next week will be better, dammit.

Jenny? Thinking of you, mama. And you asked how I got so skinny? Jackson is sucking the life outta me. And you have yet to see my accordion belly. Definiton, per Vicki Iovine:

"...the skin on your belly will fold down like a little accordion when you bend over at the waist. I suppose, on a dare, I could get away with wearing a two-piece bathing suit, but I would have to stay standing at attention to pull it off. I swear, you could throw a ten-carat diamond at my feet and I would not bend over to pick it up, because it would show the world my 'pleats.'"

Amen, Vicki.

Jack. Son. Jackson.

More photos of the baby. Can ya'll believe it? Shocking, I know.

Why no pictures of Seth, you ask? We are in the midst of a camera strike with him. He either closes his eyes, or makes crazy eight-year-old boy faces. Or hides.


The newest National Geographic. Jackson is showing signs of brilliance already. What a scholarly baby, absorbing each and every scientific article that pops off the page.


GOD that sounded good! It was fish that captivated him. And me. I have yet to read the article.


Um...anybody else have a baby that scratched themselves into oblivion? Check it:


It looks like chickens have been scritchin' for bugs on his head. And YES we've tried EVERYTHING. I do so enjoy the look on his face in this photo.

"What the HELL, Mom."


Exersaucercise. Thank you Daddy and Cathy!



Asleep in his PIMP. NEW. CAR SEAT. Thank you Mommy and Joe!



Oh holy cow how I love it when babies get to the HoldingTheirToes stage. It is one of the cutest things EVER. Ever ever. It is so impressive when he puts his toes in his mouth. Will you look at the size of his head? C-section...goooooooooooood. Never thought I'd say that...

Because I'm so freaking busy...

It's a photo update...