"boo-she"
I know not everyone celebrates Christmas…but we do…so in honor of today – also known as Christmas – I wanted to wish all of you a happy day filled with lots of fun and joy and laughter.
This is our Christmas card.
And now I’m sharing it with you.
Because you are awesome.
I am so thankful that you are here, reading this.
PS: I’m the reindeer on the left. Tim is the right. Kellan the middle. Obviously.
Happy Christmas Eve! It’s supposed to snow for Christmas this year.
I’m very excited.
We baked cookies yesterday.
Baked and baked and baked.
And baked.
We still have one more batch to bake, but only because the dough requires overnight refrigeration. I saw a recipe for the best chocolate chip cookies from an old NY Times article and decided that now is as good a time as any to try them.
The recipe still scares me.
Just check out the first sentence on the step where us *normal* people would just drop a rounded teaspoon on a pan and call it a day.
We’ll see how they turn out.
After, of course, I turn all of the vertical chips to a more eye pleasing horizontal position.
Between all of the baking, I dealt with an on-the-mend-clingy-sick baby and Tim dropped off/picked up the dogs off from getting groomed.
Everybody is going to be clean for Christmas. Every. Body.
Why so much baking?
Because I decided we had to make cookies (plain, easy chocolate chip and peanut butter) for the Post Office and Police Department as part of our random acts of kindness.
They better like them, is all I’m saying.
I have no idea what is wrong with me, either.
We also made *our* cookies — Hazelnut-but-really-pecan balls and Jammies. And the dough for the crazy ingredient chocolate chip cookies.
The powdered sugar on the Jammies got a little out of control. I blame sleep deprivation.
Five Four batches. All baked.
Lucky number six five tomorrow.
Obviously I can’t count.
Oh, and we wrapped Kellan’s gifts. I think we are done wrapping, now, wrapping and baking and cleaning.
Tomorrow should be way chill, minus the aforementioned cookie delivery and the rolling of sausage balls for Christmas morning. We do it classy here, people — cookies and sausage balls and OJ.
And it’s awesome.
Also? To anyone and everyone who has family nearby?
Thank them. Appreciate them. Roll your eyes one less time at them.
It is really, really hard to raise and care for a child on your own AND do evvvvvverrythiiiinnng else all by yourself. And by “yourself” I mean our little family of three
It’s really hard.
I currently dangling at my wits end. Just so you’re in the loop as to my current state. Too much. There is too much going on. I’ll be glad when it’s over and I can have a minute to myself to just BE.
More of our random acts of kindness. Spreading the joy…one small moment at a time.
$5.00 Starbucks gift cards…
Given to random cars in a thrift store parking lot.
A sweet treat for our mail person.
For our pizza delivery guy…
He was only a kid — no older than twenty. I hope that small bit of joy helps him in some way…
Also? I love the saying on the front of the cards. It is so true. And it is something we all should strive to do, I think, even if it is just a simple “hello” and a smile to a person who looks like they need it.
I have to remind myself to find the joy in doing these random acts of kindness. I think, sometimes, well, probably most of the time, I get too wrapped up in the task itself – in executing and completing it – that I don’t stop and think about what I’m actually doing.
Helping someone.
Making another person smile.
Being kind.
I stumbled across this the other day. #26Acts of random kindness to honor the 26 lives lost in Connecticut. How wonderful is it that so many people are doing nice things for complete strangers all over the country? All over the globe?
Obviously, what can anyone say about the awful, awful tragedy at Sandy Hook Elementary?
Nothing.
There is absolutely nothing you can say.
It is unfortunate that I know this from firsthand experience, having lost my brother at the tender age of three.
I was seven years old when it happened and it is still a raw spot on my heart. I’m not sure how my mom managed to make it through another day after that, knowing what I know now about having a child. I don’t think I would be able to cope with that kind of loss and my heart truly aches for all of the parents, brothers, sisters, aunts, and uncles…grandparents…the list goes on.
So, instead of feeling sad and helpless, Tim, Kellan and I are have decided to join in on the random acts of kindness. Hopefully our small gestures will inspire others to do the same and pay it forward.
It doesn’t take much to brighten someone’s day — and everyone’s day needs brightening at one time or another.
We started our mission this morning at breakfast.
And we will continue to spread the kindness and random joy 25 more times…
…to be continued…
I’m currently living in the world of transitioning from three naps to two. If you have zero children, this period of time can basically be described like this:
HI, CRANKY PANTS.
We wear our rally caps daily, now. Last night’s five-hour (!!!!!!!) rally included a family dance party. It worked…for maybe three songs…then we had to give in and start bath time. There’s only so much you can do.
I guess that’s where I’ve been? Along with Christmas shopping. Just FYI – making an Amazon wish list is basically a gateway drug to full on whipping out the credit card and buying things. I’ve been getting shipping notifications for things I don’t even remember ordering. I’m not even sure what that says about me.
I’m struggling as to what I’m going to get Tim. He is the hardest person to buy for because he doesn’t want little things. He wants big things. Granted, there are only two “big” things he wants, but, still. Oh, wait. He wants “big” things and then stuff like a SHOP VAC.
Really?
Here. allow me to put that under the tree. I’ll un-box it and put it together and everything. How charming.
Buying a shop vac is zero percent fulfilling when it comes to Christmas shopping. I’m just saying.
We made an Amazon wish list that we both put stuff on so we would know what the other person wanted. Once we were mostly finished, I went to check the list and…um…
Me: Our budget is what, again? And you put a SIXTY INCH TELEVISION on it?! And a camera?
Tim: You said…
Me: ….and you said you didn’t want a new TV because of the reviews. YOU said.
Tim: Also? I go to check because you said you put stuff for you on the list and what do I see? Dog stuff. Kellan stuff. And ONE THING for you. ONE!
Me: You said you already knew what you were getting me AND you said not to say things I wanted because then if you were already planning on getting them, it would seem like you only got them because I said I wanted them when you were already planning on it…your words, not mine.
Tim: True…
Me: So, really, what’s the budget?
Tim: ONE DOLLAR. For you. Because I’m already over.
Me: OMG.
And then? We learn that Christmas lights are full of lead. Which? Bad, bad, bad for babies. We found a website who sells lights that are supposed to be RoHS (Restrictive of Hazardous Materials) compliant, which means the lead levels are nowhere near as bad as the lights you pick up anywhere around here.
The lights we ordered came last night and they are WAY TOO YELLOW. So much so that we are going to have to return them.
Then Tim is like, “You realize that we have to pay to return them (WHAT?!) AND then pay for shipping on new lights (WHAT?!) if we want to order more.
WHAT?!
Dear Go Green LED Bulbs – that’s insane. It may be your policy but, still. IN.SANE. It will cost us almost $20 in shipping…or more. I don’t even know.
Also? Your picture of the “antique” lights is extremely misleading. This yellow you have on your website? MULTIPLY BY A HUNDRED SHADES OF YELLOW.
We haven’t re-ordered any lights from them, yet. I’m still debating because OMG. We have to pay to return them because they are WRONG. We also found a warning label inside the box, so now we aren’t even sure if they ARE RoHS compliant, even though their website says they are. We’ve already sent an email. Awaiting a response…
All this. For lights.
Last night, I was all, “Maybe we just won’t put lights on the tree because I’m not putting our old [lead filled] lights on.”
Tim: Then we aren’t getting a tree because I’m not putting up a tree without lights. That’s ridiculous.
Me: Might as well cancel Christmas, then.
Tim: Seriously? You’re going there? That’s a little over the top.
Me: And Christmas with no tree is better?!
[begin mutual silent treatment while we watch Homeland]
Christmas shouldn’t be so complicated, people. Yet, here we are. No decorations. No tree. No damn lights.
It’s like I totally disappear from cyberspace over the weekend…because…mostly…I do.
I really have no idea how a weekend of “no plans” turns into a weekend full of activity but inevitably, it does.
Somewhere amongst the solo Christmas shopping – Tim went his way, I went mine and cutty-pastey project and whatever else it was that took up the entire weekend, we did manage a bump update photo shoot (that takes all of five seconds, truth be told):
31 weeks, 2 days
Compare this to the last shirt on bump shot at 28 weeks…and I’m telling you people…my belly is growing BY THE DAY.
28 weeks, 3 days
Tim texted me on Thursday, my official “new pregnancy week” day all, “Happy nine weeks left!”
Happy….OMG.
We’re in the single digit weeks.
How did this happen so….fast?
In the back of my mind, part of me is like, “Baby sprout, technically, could come at any point…especially once we hit 37 weeks…and I’m already 31 weeks plus…….” It really sets you into a tailspin because AM I READY FOR THIS?!
I have no choice.
Baby sprout is coming out one way or another.
His movements have gotten even stronger – how this is possible, I have no idea – and Tim gets a kick out of putting his hands on my belly and feeling an appendage poke out underneath the palm of his hand. It is the weirdest sensation, both inside and out. My stomach morphs depending on where baby sprout is and how he is laying. I can’t even describe the sensation other than to say it legit is like an alien-in-my-bellah-made-for-tv-movie experience.
Weird.
I have a doctor’s appointment this afternoon…which I’m slightly dreading and slightly excited about. I’m positive that my ass and thighs are growing at the same rate as my belly. It doesn’t even matter how many times I visit the elliptical or take the dogs for a walk or attend BodyPump.
They’re still growing.
It’s not like the doctor measures my ass or anything…anyway…I will say that the pharmacist, who is also preggo and due a few weeks after me, told me the other day that I looked tiny for being 31 weeks AND looked like I was a runner.
Quadruple bonus points for her.
(You probably already knew this happened if you followed me on Twitter…)
I’m excited because we’re going out to dinner (yay!) and then to Pottery Barn for our annual purchase of a Christmas ornament.
We usually buy balls…
(that didn’t exactly come out the way I intended)
So…moving on…because there is something I HAVE TO BRAG ABOUT.
These:
And do they not look perfect in the sprout’s nursery?!
(Before you ask, YES. Tim busted out the big level, the little level, the measuring tape and a pencil)
And guess which crafty chick created these freaking adorable safari animals?
Thaaaat’s right!
Yours truly!
(Seriously…I should really go into business doing…something…)
I stole the idea from Pottery Barn (just like we stole the white stripe plus stitching)
and then borrowed a few pictures from etsy after searching for forever for “baby elephant” and “baby giraffe” and “baby lion” and WA-LA!
A Sunday project that took me freaking forever (five hours) but was worth every second!
While I was doing the cutty-pastey, Tim was wrapping the sprout’s Christmas presents.
Yes, you definitely read that correctly: The Sprout.
And dude is racking up!
There are somewhere around 14 gifts wrapped and around (I’d say “under” but they don’t exactly fit) the tree of varying shapes and sizes. The scale of gifts between the sprout and Tim and I is comical.
However, we’re almost more excited to open those than we are the gifts Tim and I bought each other.
I have a feeling this is what the foreseeable future will look like come holiday time.
Happy Monday!!…not really but…I mean…is anyone even out there…reading this?
Sometimes I feel like I’m writing to….myself…mostly…and my few loyal bloggy friends…I wouldn’t ever count you chicas out!
I’m not even sure where I’ve been the last…ohhhh…however many days. I feel like everything is coming down to the wire and there is so much still to do before baby sprout and OMG I’m so far behind…..anyhow.
Hi.
Welcome to my world.
Wherever I’ve been, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t “online,” unless you count the Christmas shopping I did yesterday…all day. I *did* actually purchase a few things in a real live store, though. I think that kind of task – when going it alone, 31 weeks pregnant – deserves some kind of credit.
Anyhow.
Remember how I said on Friday we had all these awesome things to do over the weekend?
Like go to a holiday party Friday night?
Or test drive a car?
How about that second work party on Saturday?
Cutting down my very own Christmas tree?
Grocery shopping so we have food in the house?
FAIL.
The Friday night holiday party turned into Smashburger and recorded TV.
(Smashburger…super delicious but not exactly super healthy. It gave me the Smashpoo the next morning…zero percent fun)
Saturday’s test drive was a bust because Tim and the car people couldn’t work out whatever it was they needed to work out to make it worthwhile to drive an hour to look at a car. Apparently, *my* car isn’t selling very well and so the amount we owe versus the amount the car people want to give us isn’t jiving.
FAIL.
We did, however, find out that Saturday morning would be the last total lunar eclipse in three years and that we were lucky enough to be in a really great spot to see (most of) it.
Tim and I love nature-y stuff like this and were willing to drag ourselves out of bed at five in the morning to capture these…at a dog park, no less.
(You can see the definition of the moon/eclipse better if you click on the picture and zoom in…)
(This is how the magic happens)
After freezing in 14 degrees, we grabbed a quick breakfast to fuel the chopping down our Christmas tree.
Yay!
I was super excited about cutting down a tree watching Tim cut down a tree……..until we got to the tree farm and they pointed us in the direction of an open, empty field with like, seven trees, all under four feet tall.
Tim and I were all, “Seriously?!….Seriously?….You’re…this? These?…No….”
I wish I had taken a picture…but my mind was reeling something ferocious…like, “WHO CUTS DOWN SAPLINGS?!”
We tried looking for a few other places but those didn’t really pan out, either, mostly because the closest one we found where we didn’t need a permit required us to bring all of our own supplies and we would have to drive through the snow on non-roads into a forest to find a tree.
This?
Probably not a very smart idea with a growing-by-the-second preggo wife.
SIDEBAR
Did you know that after you reach something like 30 or 31 weeks, your belly can grow a half an inch to an inch a week? A WEEK! OMG!
END SIDEBAR.
So…anyhow…we ended up……
….I’m almost embarrassed to even admit to this…
…we ended up…here.
And on the way here Tim was all, “I feel so bad. We’re not doing anything on your list from your blog!”
I just laughed all, “It’s no big deal…we’ll call it the weekend of fail…plus one add! The eclipse!”
Little did we know the “laughing” was only going to get…um…better.
When we got to the tree farm parking lot, we both looked at each other like, “You have got to be joking…“
But, we resigned ourselves to, at bare minimum, go out to look at what they had.
Wouldn’t you know it? I ended up picking out the biggest Nobel Fir I’ve ever seen.
As in the biggest tree Tim and I have ever purchased.
As in it is probably at least seven feet tall.
When the guy working the tree place saw Tim pull up our car he was all, “Uhh…how about I put this on my Durango and deliver it for you?….”
We have a small, four door car.
(I guess this is the part where I tell you which car…because “small four door car” isn’t very descriptive…)
Our “small, four door car” is a BMW 325i. Sorry…I’ve been corrected. It’s a 328xi.
Anyway….
What his mouth didn’t say but his eyes were screaming was: There is no way in hell that tree is going onto your car without something catastrophic occurring.
Funny, though, Tim and I both had overheard another family, not five minutes before we picked out our tree, asking if they’d deliver.
Their answer?
We don’t do that.
Um….
Maybe it was because I was pregnant.
Or maybe it was because his daughter and I shared a name…minus a C, plus a K…
She’s a cheerleader, didn’t y’know and they just had their “Super Bowl” where she cheered on the big, high school field….
After we had our tree?
Operation Christmas was ON.
We may have failed at almost everything we had planned over the weekend, but we did a ton of other things, like decorate the inside and outside of the house.
Mini RANT: What the hell is wrong with Christmas lights? Tim and I tested every single strand and replaced every single blown bulb so everything was in perfect working order and 100% lit before we started putting them up outside.
And putting them up wasn’t exactly a walk in the park. Tim had to maneuver and stretch and teeter on the ladder while I had to hold his body weight plus the ladder on the areas where it was just snow and rocks and when we turned them on?
FULL SECTIONS OF A FEW STRANDS WEREN’T WORKING.
RANDOM, SINGLE LIGHTS ON OTHERS WERE BLOWN.
WHY?!
WHY?!
WHY?!
We had to replace the random single lights that, magically, no longer worked and then take down the entire we-worked-inside-but-just-kidding-we’re-broken strands and put up new ones.
This took twice as long as putting up the lights alone and by the end of it all Tim was cursing every step on the ladder.
I can’t really blame him.
We also made the little boughs + bows on the porch posts.
I love them…even though there were also a PITA to put up.
(I really have no idea why we torture ourselves like this every year. Tim says he does it because I like the decorations…so I guess it’s just me who likes the pain)
But, still. Lookit how pretty!
(We’ve since added a wreath to the front door and red bows to the lights on either side of the garage…)
And our tree!
(The mantle is like a feast for the eyes with all of the random…things…we put up there…including the freaky, bendy red-headed bald santa that we’re not entirely sure how we obtained)
And the puppies, Maddie and Lexi, with the tree!
(I had to coerce them with promises of “big treats!” while Tim took the picture)
We also started the Tim’s Direct Reports Holiday Gift Project. I made puppy chow (have you read my 4th grade mortification story behind this, yet?) while Tim made fudge.
We’re doing the baking for this project in stages because I cannot possibly make puppy chow, fudge, chocolate dipped pretzels and sugar cookies (including icing) in one day without wanting to murder someone.
The cookies are happening today…the pretzels + assembly of the treat tins tomorrow.
I’ll post the finished product when it’s all said and done…plus recipes.
Yay for high calorie holiday treats!
I’m also thinking of making some kind of “We’re the people who never really talk to anyone” goodie bags for our neighbors. Mostly so they know we’re not Satan and because if we have any leftover puppy chow, I’ll eat it with reckless abandon….like I’ve already been doing…it’s like I can’t stop…and the only way to quit is to remove the temptation.
I just don’t see myself sneaking into the neighbors home to take back my puppy chow all stealthy like.
For one, I’m not that brave.
Two? Pregnant does not equal stealthy.
Pregnant equals dropping your iPhone in a bowl of cereal.
(I’m so not kidding)
(I totally did that last night)
(I don’t even know how it happened)
(It wasn’t my fault)
FIRST First: I’ve just been called out regarding my lack of posting any how-to-where-did-you-find-it info on the marble ornament things.
Thank YOU, Stephanie.
Anyway, I found the idea here on Not Martha.
And then I ad-libbed the rest.
I bought everything at Michael’s, by the way, including small round holiday stickers to use instead of searching through magazine after magazine to find JUST THE RIGHT SIZE PICTURE.
Stickers are WAY easier and WAY faster.
I picked out which stickers I liked and then stuck the stickers to a piece of red felt.
Then, I used glue from another planet (Liquid Fusion) to attach the marble to the sticker/felt combo.
I waited for them to dry and then cut each one out.
Then?
Then I cut a million pieces of ribbon and then whipped out the handy-dandy glue gun, made Tim my prisoner and created the hangy-loop-thing by putting a dab of hot glue on the back of the marble (make sure your ribbon is straight or else Rudolph will be upside-down!) and Tim would then immediately stick the ribbon down into the glue (he’d be holding the ribbon with two hands, at the ready) and I’d turn it over to make sure it was straight and then WA-LA!
Ornament!
If you have any specific questions (Stephanie) you can email me (Stephanie) so I can make sure you know EXACTLY how it’s done (Stephanie).
You know this is all in good fun (Stephanie).
*****
Now, onto the SECOND First, an apology. I’ve been so slow to respond to your comments…Papa Guy: Italian Peas are basically…top secret…says Tim…unless you’re Italian OR accepted into “The Family”
Well, I’m not Italian, so I don’t think I’m held to the same standard and I’ve never made them before BUT I can tell you they have onions, lots of butter and come from an organic can. Does that help?
Also? Please know I read, cherish and I LOVE each and everyone one of your comments. It means I’m not alone.
And I’d really hate to think that I’m all alone out here.
SIDEBAR: Every time I hear or say that phrase…”I’m all alone out here”…I immediately think of the story of one of Tim’s dogs as a child who got left outside by accident one night and kept making pitiful noises at the door that his mom (and everyone else who heard it) swore it sounded like the dog was all, “I’m awlll along out where!” END SIDEBAR.
Also (this is like the catch up I should have been doing forever ago), I’ve been meaning to thank Nomz over at ruggedgrace for giving me a wonderful ‘Tell Me About Yourself’ award a few weeks ago that I’ve yet to acknowledge.
(partly because I’m supposed to give you seven secrets about me and I’m not even sure what secrets to share…I mean…we talk about my boobs leaking so….)
AND I just found out that the lovely Janice at CountryBoyCityGirls gave me the Most Versatile Blogger award this past week.
Yay! I love awards…of any kind. I’m material that way, I guess.
Thank you both so much! I swear I’ll (try) to get to them as soon as I come up with secrets and random things – neither of which should be hard, technically.
I’m just going to let you know right now that this entire post is going to ramble and make zero sense because I just drank an entire glass of chocolate Ovaltine (‘More Ovaltine Please!’) annnnnnnd that really doesn’t have anything to do with my rambling……
Today in my Yay…I mean…ouch! Barre Tone class, a woman I’ve never seen or spoken to before was all, “When is your baby due?”
And I was all, “February 16th.”
And she was all, “You look great! You’re tiny for being due in February!”
WIN.
This weekend is crazy.
As in I have no idea how I’m going to keep my eyes open come Sunday.
You know how guys have this weird thing with cars? The same kind of thing we girls get with purses or makeup or clothes?
The bug, I call it.
Tim has been bitten by the car bug. Again. Except, at least this time it is for a reason other than, “I want a new car.”
See, we both have small cars and my car in particular is not all all suited for driving in the winter around here nor does it have much space in the trunk for things like groceries…or strollers…or strollers and groceries…and we’ve been talking about getting a larger car that is built to handle the winter and will fit carseats and groceries and strollers and dogs and babies all in one trip.
Hence the beginning of Tim searching for a suitable replacement for me because once that conversation started I was all, “I don’t care what it is. Just pick one out and I’ll drive it.”
Seriously.
Well, no. Let me clarify: I flat out refuse to drive a mini van.
Other than that, I’m game.
So, when this car conversation started a few months ago, Tim went and did his car research and then forgot about it and then started talking about cars again and then a few nights ago he remembered this website where you can see what other people paid for the same car with the same specs you want (Truecar, I think it is…) and he played on that for awhile and found a good deal and started talking with various dealers over the past few days and where did all of that lead?
We’re going to test drive a car…an SUV…tomorrow to see if I like it.
Oh boy.
I was all, “I don’t want to drive this behemoth any farther than the dealership parking lot. I’m pregnant and forgetful and huge and driving a car I’ve never driven before? Is that even a smart idea?”
Tim’s retort: “I’m sure we can find a safe place for them to take us so you can drive it.”
Hello?! There is snow EVERYWHERE.
Anyhow, wish us luck for a good deal or whatever else it is we need for this car SUV. I don’t do these kind of negotiations. I don’t do car anything. That’s all in Tim’s job description. I just sit there and look like the helpless pregnant chick.
As for the rest of the weekend?
Tonight Tim and I are going to ‘make an appearance’ (mostly because we don’t know ANYBODY) at the annual town Christmas party. We were invited because I’m on the Open Space and Trails Board. It’s like we get to see all the governmental people…at a party.
I really don’t think this means anything other than free food.
Tomorrow?
We’re going to chop down our Christmas tree (YAY!) and haul it home to set up so it can “rest” before we get dressed and drive an hour away to this dealership who has the right SUV that includes all the things Tim picked out for me and are going to test drive the monster.
If things go well?
We’ll be coming home with a car fit for the sprout.
Well, no…technically…we’re supposed to stop at another holiday party on our way home from the car dealership to make another ‘appearance.’ It is for Tim’s work…mostly salespeople I think? And, again, mostly for the free food…or something. Maybe politics because it’s work related…
We’re undecided as to this party. Tim stayed home the past two days because he was sick…but not the OMG. I’M DYING. Man-sick kind. More like the I’m sick with a fever but I’m not on my deathbed and YOU MUST CARE FOR ME 24 HOURS A DAY kind of sick. So, I wasn’t complaining. It’s the most I’ve seen him since Thanksgiving.
Where was I?…
I think we’ve made it to Sunday?
Sunday we are decorating the house – inside and out – and the tree for Christmas.
Somewhere around all of this activity we have to find time to go to the grocery store. We’ve figured out how to do one BIG grocery shopping trip once a month, with smaller trips every now and then to replenish things like milk and bread. Except, we’re due for another BIG trip because we have no food in the house AND I’m Little Miss Martha next week, as I’ll be making cheery holiday tins filled with goodies for Tim’s direct reports and we don’t have the ingredients for the tins, either.
I was Little Miss Martha yesterday, actually. I made these glass marble ornaments and I also filled out about a million Christmas cards.
Tim was all, “I NEVER used to send out so many cards!”
And I was all, “You weren’t married then, either.”
Oh, right! My mini-marble masterpieces:
And I think they’re pretty damn cute.
You know what is completely ironic about the title of this post?
My whole point of Tourette’s was to tell you that the sprout now kicks me REALLY HARD sometimes out of nowhere. It’s like everything is quiet and I’m completely unprepared for the wallop my insides are about to receive.
And then it happens and I legit jump three feet in the air all, “OWWW!”
I’ve scared Tim more than once with my antics, even though now he’s finally starting to understand I cannot control these random outbursts.
It’s not my fault.
It’s kind of exactly like I have a physical form of Tourette’s. I just bust out in a scream or a yelp and dance around for a few seconds before I sit back down like nothing happened.
Quite comical.
Yet, I’ve been going all over the map with what I’m talking about like I actually have Tourette’s.
This?
Totally not planned.
PS? If there are any typos, kindly let me know. I decided to hit publish before I proofread anything because I just remembered that I have to go get my car washed so it looks all nice and purty for the dealership people tomorrow.
Have I ever mentioned how much I don’t like going to get the car washed?
Someone entertain me………
The awesome man gifts that he won’t secretly return are here (aka the extra click)
http://booshy.com/2009/12/12/you-need-a-man-oh-a-man-gift-right-one-of-those/
Yes…redirect is still retarded.
Proof of the fact that my husband remembers ZERO is here.
