Just another evening at our house...

Husband: "Look Vivi, it's a full hour of Dora!!"

Me: "Is it Dora and the Crystal Kingdom?"

Husband: "uh... I don't know... it looks like Dora is running around with Ron Jeremy..."

Me: "Is Ron Jeremy wearing a crown?"

Husband: "Yeah."

Me: "Yep, that's Dora and the Crystal Kindom."

Husband: "Uh...King Ron is carrying around what appears to be a ... um... you know"

Me: "Yeah- that's his scepter... as it were..."

Husband: "So it's not a studded you-know-what?"

Me: "No, not so much."

Halloween Picture Bonanza!

And now... because everyone is the house is sick and I barely have the brainpower to keep myself from drooling... gratuitous Halloween photos.

Completely Frivolous & Sacrilegious Fluff

Husband and I have come up with some alternative names for the swine flu:
Pancetta Pandemic
Pork Plague
Bacon Bubonic
and my favorite...
Fatback Fever

And from last night, this conversation:

Husband: Why are you so mean* to me?
Me: I was sent by the Lord to test you. Jesus told me so. In an Eggo.
Husband: Yeah, well he told me to tell you to knock it off.... an Eggo? Really?
Me: It was all I could come up with.

Mean = telling him to shush so as not to wake the rustling baby with his full-volume description of an ESPN commercial.

Mother of the Year

You know it's been a banner day when you have to call the Poison Control Center and say "So... my 20-month-old just took a swig of some KY massage oil... what's that gonna do to my day?"
The answer is not much. Maybe a really sludgey diaper later, but no real harm done. Actually, I'm enjoying my child smelling like "Bali Moonlight" as opposed to the usual eau de A&D ointment.
What's really bothering me is that this was my THIRD (yes, third) call to Poison Control since the child got mobile. For the record, Old Spice deodorant and L'Oreal mineral makeup are also both relatively harmless snacks for the tots. Aren't you glad I can provide these handy factoids? *SIGH*

Diary of a Mad Housewife

The story of my last few weeks is one of hot steamy chaos topped with a heaping melty helping of stress and sprinkled with crunchy annoying complications. A delicious recipe for Mama Meltdown! Mmmm… All that came to a nice hot boiling messy head on the phone with my Mom last week. I cried, she soothed, and then I changed a leaking poopy diaper. Let’s use last Wednesday as an example.
I was in the second hour of time on the phone with a certain wireless carrier that merged with my carrier and proceeded to overcharge me and refuse to answer emails and can’t tell me how to update my Blackberry software and …. The dogs were acting as my defacto childcare, keeping Viv’s harpy-esque, ear-shattering shrieking to the happy kind. Oh, and did I mention I was cleaning the kitchen and answering work emails at the same time? I had just emptied the silverware basket and turned to use the laptop. In that short span… maybe 45 seconds… somehow things went terribly wrong.
When I turned back around, the silverware basket was gone. But I needn’t have wondered about it’s location for long. At that moment, my child and the dogs came thundering through in the 1st Annual Mayhem Parade. My demure little flower of a girl-child was naked from the waist down, having removed both her shorts and diaper. She was brandishing the missing silverware basket over her head like a hockey player making his rounds of the ice with the Stanley Cup. In hot pursuit behind my sweet baby were BOTH dogs, one barking as though she’d treed a ‘coon (as they say around these parts) and the other sporting a box of Annie’s Chocolate Bunnies in his mouth. They roared through, knocking over the trash can and stepping on BOTH my feet as they went.
I followed the wild rumpus crew into the den and it was then that I realized the true extent of the festivities. That box of Bunnies was empty, it turns out, and the bodies were strewn across the den floor like a little bunny Jonestown. Both dogs were now feasting on the carnage. My daughter stood in the middle of it all, pants-less and gleeful, shrieking her excitement to the neighborhood.
And then, then she peed. Down her leg. Onto the carpet. Soggying a couple of errant bunnies beneath her feet.
Fast forward to the end of the week. It was no surprise when my Mom emailed and oh-so-casually mentioned that she didn’t have choir practice this week and they really wanted to see the baby and so, hey, why don’t they cruise on up for a short visit? To which I responded SWEET MONKEYS AND RED WINE, WHY AREN’T YOU IN THE CAR YET????
They arrived Monday and spent the week amusing my daughter, fixing my car, and providing excellent meals. They left this morning. Viv and I both cried.

Absence makes your readership go wander...

*SIGH*

So where have I been? I wish I had something sexy to report, but no, I do not. Let me put it to you this way...

A few night's ago I dreamed I was doing laundry pretty much all night. I woke up thinking "dammit! Couldn't my subconscious come up with something a little more glamorous?" But it's not my poor subconscious's fault. I mean, it's not like my conscious self has been providing any good raw material. The dancey dance segment of Yo Gabba Gabba is about as hot as the party gets around here these days.

But I do have some exciting news from a life other than my own! One of my old college cronies has co-authored a book! And it got published! Holla! (Do the kids still say "holla"?)

Behold....

Beyond Heaving Bosoms: The Smart Bitches Guide to Romance Novels

Sarah Wendell had the great misfortune of being a total gee- er, I mean, English major with me. The book is awesome, she is awesome, and if you don't buy it, well, woe be unto you is all I'm gonna say. Serious Biblical proportions WOE! (OK... not really... no actual woe...but it is an excellent and funny read.)

Later today (or maybe tomorrow) my thoughtful analysis (read: fragmented rant) on the Sarah Palin vs. Levi Johnston smackdown.

Ciao!

Oh wait... I forgot... your daily dose of adorable.

For Sale...or Trade... Hell, I'll pay YOU.

Hey there! Yes, you! Step right up for the DEAL OF THE CENTURY!


What's that you say? You're a doctor/sanitation worker/teacher/farmer and you need to get up ridiculously early every morning? Say... 4:30 a.m.? EVERY. DAY.

Have I got a bargain for you!



For a very low price (so low we can't even mention it here) you can have this:













(see... she even handles the paperwork!)


It's the Vivi-matic 3000! Wakes you up persistently and reliably every single morning at 4:30 on the dot! And she comes with these amazing features!

• No pesky snooze buttonn to tempt you into oversleeping!


• Escalating volume ensures you will eventually awake, no matter how sound a sleeper you are!


• Bonus good-morning diaper included on random occasions for extra surprise fun!


• Also acts as a weight-loss aid by demanding 1/2 of your breakfast no matter what you put in her bowl!

To order this amazing product, call me. Price negotiable. Free express delivery!

Reports of my death are highly exaggerated...

Surprise! It's your favorite (ok.... at least not your least favorite) blogger rising from the ashes. There's so much to report. My life has changed so much (for the good!) in the last few months and oh, how my sweet girl has grown. And as soon as the Nap Gods smile upon me, I'll fill you in on it all. But for now, behold the cuteness:











And in the current events realm...
ROCK THE F*** ON, OBAMA!!!!!
http://www.cnn.com/2009/POLITICS/03/09/obama.stem.cells/index.html

Stay tuned...