gotta pee gotta pee gotta pee gotta pee
And I'm ovulating.
Aren't you glad you asked?
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
My finger hurts!!!
So I did this ridiculous thing last night. I tried to reason with a two year old. It went like this:
Me: "Danica, time for bath! Let's put our toys away."
Danica: "nonononono! Not nice!"
Me: "Honey, you have to go nite nite. Now let's pick up and go take a bath. Don't you want to play in the bubbles?"
Danica, upon seeing Elmo: "ELMO!!!!! Mommy, Elmo baaath."
(keep in mind this is a 40 dollar, computerized Elmo that knows my child's name and schedule, family members, favorite color, animal and birthday. I know...scary)
Me: "No ma'am. Elmo cannot go in the bath."
Danica : "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!! DADDY!!!!!!!!"
So I just decide it's easier to pick her up and let her scream about it on our way to the bathroom.
bad idea
I pick her up sans Elmo. She has one of those boneless squirmy thrashing fits that toddlers are so great at. My pinky nail gets caught on her cute baby jeans. Then it tears off... halfway down the nailbed.
Me: "Sweet Mother of Pearl!!!!! Holy Jesus!!!! God Bless America!!!! ALEX!!!!!!!"
(We are trying not to curse in front of the great repeating toddler :))
Three wads of bloodstained tissue later and I'm sitting on the toilet with some Betadine and a pair of nail clippers trying not to scream and get rid of the mother of all hangnails. Because of course it couldn't have split all the way across.
So, I sit here, bandaid on pinky and muse over the wisdom of having nails with a toddler. I have four pitifully broken stumps on my right hand and one perfect thumbnail. My left hand, manicurist perfection.
In other news, Alex is in Seattle this week and I've got a brand new weight bench at home. I've used it a lot in the past week. Almost everyday. Mostly because I came perilously close to putting all the weight back on that I spent six months losing. I didn't, thank goodness, but it was awfully close. Since I am going home for Christmas this year, I absolutely have to get it back off. It never fails that I will run into someone I used to date/knew from school who will comment on the 60+ pounds I've gained since I left that hole.
And with that note, I'm off to eat my uber-healthy ham-broccoli-pasta salad that Alex made for dinner last night.
*pout* I miss him :(
Me: "Danica, time for bath! Let's put our toys away."
Danica: "nonononono! Not nice!"
Me: "Honey, you have to go nite nite. Now let's pick up and go take a bath. Don't you want to play in the bubbles?"
Danica, upon seeing Elmo: "ELMO!!!!! Mommy, Elmo baaath."
(keep in mind this is a 40 dollar, computerized Elmo that knows my child's name and schedule, family members, favorite color, animal and birthday. I know...scary)
Me: "No ma'am. Elmo cannot go in the bath."
Danica : "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!! DADDY!!!!!!!!"
So I just decide it's easier to pick her up and let her scream about it on our way to the bathroom.
bad idea
I pick her up sans Elmo. She has one of those boneless squirmy thrashing fits that toddlers are so great at. My pinky nail gets caught on her cute baby jeans. Then it tears off... halfway down the nailbed.
Me: "Sweet Mother of Pearl!!!!! Holy Jesus!!!! God Bless America!!!! ALEX!!!!!!!"
(We are trying not to curse in front of the great repeating toddler :))
Three wads of bloodstained tissue later and I'm sitting on the toilet with some Betadine and a pair of nail clippers trying not to scream and get rid of the mother of all hangnails. Because of course it couldn't have split all the way across.
So, I sit here, bandaid on pinky and muse over the wisdom of having nails with a toddler. I have four pitifully broken stumps on my right hand and one perfect thumbnail. My left hand, manicurist perfection.
In other news, Alex is in Seattle this week and I've got a brand new weight bench at home. I've used it a lot in the past week. Almost everyday. Mostly because I came perilously close to putting all the weight back on that I spent six months losing. I didn't, thank goodness, but it was awfully close. Since I am going home for Christmas this year, I absolutely have to get it back off. It never fails that I will run into someone I used to date/knew from school who will comment on the 60+ pounds I've gained since I left that hole.
And with that note, I'm off to eat my uber-healthy ham-broccoli-pasta salad that Alex made for dinner last night.
*pout* I miss him :(
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