Living the high life

Guess what I got for my 31st birthday?

Yes, a pair of stilts made by Dan! Now Xander, my mother and I own stilts. I see a race/competition in the very near future!

And I'm also going to throw in a new picture of Toby. It has nothing to do with stilts, or birthdays, or competitions... it's just because he is so stinking cute!

Wanted!

Reward offered for the apprehension of the dangerous criminal shown below:

Name: Toby

Known Aliases: "Bub", "Alien", "Mr. Mister" and "Fussy-Mussy-Waterloo"

DOB: 5/23/12

Weight: approximately 9lbs.

Height: 22+ inches

Eyes: brownish

Hair: brown and balding

Identifying features/birthmarks: John Travolta chin

Temperament: charming

If you see this boy, approach with caution as his powers of intoxication are transmitted through eye contact. He renders his victims helpless and bends their will to meet his every need.

In his short life he has been convicted and proven guilty of the following crimes:

• Blowing out diapers
• Spitting on people
• Laundering onesies
• All night parties

He was last seen in the area of his bassinet wearing a dinosaur onesie. He has been known to work with an accomplice and Intel has just received a rare picture of the duo together. See below.

His accomplice, Manny, also has a long record:

• Stealing
• Urinating in public
• Physical Intimidation
• Defiling a bathroom rug
• Disobedience
• Violation of noise ordinances

Again, use caution if you see these dangerous criminals and alert authorities immediately.

Overheard in our bedroom: "I got one"

You know how all couples have these weird things they say to each other or fun little games they play? Well, Aaron and I have one that we do at night, once we're in bed, when we're trying to go to sleep. (It's clean, people, get your minds out of the gutter.)

We play 20 questions.

What's noteworthy about this, you may ask? As one may not think playing 20 questions before you go to sleep, in the darkness of your bedroom, is the best use of time. Well, first off, we love it. We don't play every night and, as a matter of fact, Aaron started a game of it the other night after about 3 months of 20 question abstinence.

Once the lights are out one of us, out of the blue, will simply state, "I got one" which loosely translates to "game on!" It's so much fun! Usually the first few questions tease out whether it's a boy or a girl, someone famous, or someone we have contact with on a daily basis. Usually, for some odd reason, I *almost always* pick a boy; I don't know why, perhaps I have a gender bias ;)

Often times it's a person on one of the shows we watch, a dirty politician, the guy who served us dinner at a restaurant a while ago, or someone we've recently spent a good deal of time making fun of behind closed doors. Aaron usually guesses correctly. I suppose I pick people who are too obvious. I've actually used McPepe (Aaron's dad) so many times, that now he'll say:

A: Is it a boy?
J: Yes.
A: Is it someone we see, in person, on a regular basis?
J: Yes.
A: (sigh) Is it McPepe?
J: Yes.

There isn't a person alive that's off limits. We've guessed: Edward Scissorhands, Sally Jessy Raphael, Bing (our dog), Jesus, George W. Bush (of course I picked that one), Santa Claus, the Principal at Aaron's school, the caterer at our wedding, the woman who grooms our cats... really, the possibilities are endless.

So there you have it. A fun little game we play... from our bedroom to yours. Try it tonight; you won't be sorry.

Mother's Guilt

One month from today I am scheduled to go back to work.
This makes me sad and happy.

I am looking forward to having adult conversations, being forced to shower every day, seeing my clients, starting the new program I've been named director of and, making money.

BUT, I'm going to miss Mr. Mister so much. He has thrown a wrench into my workaholism. I just want to stay home and smell him right in the nape of his delicious neck... all day long.

We're still trying to decide what we're going to do for childcare. I want a nanny but as the day gets closer to where we need someone, I don't know if I trust anyone to take care of my baby like I do.

What if he misses me?
What if I miss something?
It almost makes me sick to think about.

I keep rationalizing that I'm going back to work to make a better life for my family; especially my little boy. But, who says a better life means leaving him 2+ days per week?

The other part of me knows that I would feel stagnant staying at home. I've worked SO HARD to get where I am with my career(s). My work is so fulfilling.

But, motherhood is so much more rewarding.

I now completely understand "mother's guilt."

Pride of ownership

I'm a stickler about keeping my things in good condition. I'll even go so far as to admit that I still have clothes/bags/shoes from high school. Granted, many do not fit me this very instant but, I've kept them in nice condition; I take care of my things.

I'm very frugal. Anyone who has gone shopping with me knows this. I do buy nicer quality items because I don't want to replace them often but, I save for these items. Nothing irritates me more than seeing people who don't value their things. We have become such a throw away society.

Being sleep deprived I carried this a bit too far with Aaron, recently. Let me set the scene:

It was early, Early, EARLY, in the morning . We were both awake because, naturally, we have an infant in the house who often gets hungry and doesn't give a rat's ass what time of the day/night it is. And us? Well, we are at his mercy; we worship the ground he walks on. Therefore, he is allowed to request his meals any time he wants... and we comply.

So, it was around 4:30-5:00 AM, I was nursing Mr. Mister and Aaron was making me a piece of peanut butter toast. (I eat a slice of toast every single morning and I like the toast evenly frosted with peanut butter.)

Aaron enters the living room; he's a complete zombie.
He hands me the toast, which I can see through half-closed-sleepy-eyes has peanut butter haphazardly smeared all over it.

J: (extremely bitchy tone) Aaron, look at this piece of toast.
A: Yeah?
J: Look at the way you just slapped the peanut butter all over it!
A: And?
J: Take pride in this piece of toast, Aaron. Take pride.
A: (speechless)

I am embarrassed to admit I said this. In my defense, I was tired... probably as tired as Aaron was when he made me my toast.

There are days I am at a loss as to why he adores me so much. He doesn't have to get up with me every single time Toby needs to be nursed, but he does.

Clearly, Aaron doesn't take pride in a piece of toast. I guess I'm okay with that because he certainly takes pride in being a husband and father.