I stay home with Scout. I get up at 4 AM, so I can work before she wakes up. During her naps, I do more work. At 4 PM, Scout goes to the child care center in our gym, and I hop on an elliptical and watch Ellen.
For those of you mathematically challenged, that’s 12 hours until I get a break.
Today I was especially excited to watch Ellen because Johnny Depp was a guest (::swoon::).
After mere minutes, a special news report interrupted my program. (Does saying “my program” make me sound old?)
My first thought? NOOOOOOOO! JOHNNY!
My second thought? Damn terrorists.
But it wasn’t terrorists. It was Tom Brady. Damn Tom Brady…talking about how he picks out his footballs. Insert your own joke about a man and his balls here and in the comments.
And although Tom Brady is pretty cute, let’s face it: he’s no Johnny Depp.
I saw this:
Instead of this:
Now I know why people hate the Patriots. Those freakin’ program interrupters….
I’ve always worn my hair long…except for two times in my entire life.
The first time I was about 4. My friend cut her hair short, so I had to do it, too. Then…I cried.
The second time my hair ended up short unintentionally. I wanted curly hair in 5th grade. And that meant a perm…except my hair ended up crimpy, stinky, and not even shoulder length. I cried…again.
Removed so I don’t die of embarrassment.
So when I decided to donate my hair, I had to wait until it was long enough that I wouldn’t end up in tears after cutting off 8 inches.
I heard that Pantene donates a higher percentage of hair, so I donated my hair to them instead of Locks of Love.
Just in time, too, because my hair is turning gray fast.
Checked off another item on the 35 Before 35 list!
I can’t remember exactly how it started, but I think when Scout was a couple months old, we started blowing raspberries to her while she was having her diaper changed. It distracted her and kept her from fussing.
Then one day she blew one back at me. So I blew one at her again. And she blew one back at me. And this went on for 5 minutes or so.
Thoughtsy: It’s like she’s trying to communicate!
It was funny.
Until one day, it wasn’t.
Complete Stranger in Line Behind Us at Target: Awwww…your baby is so cute!
Awesome. Just awesome. What a rude little baby. At least she’s cute.
Before it got chilly, Scout and I played outside. Her favorite game is called Baby Tries to Eat the Grass While Mommy Yells, “Get It Outta Your Mouth.”
It’s fun. No, really.
Then we discovered the soccer ball.
My initial reaction was Scout’s baby gibberish loosely translated to “You may take our lives/soccer ball, but you can never take our freedom!”
But maybe that was too hasty. Maybe she was really saying…
- Are you blind, ref?!?! That ball was out!
- Put me in coach! I’m ready to play…today!
- What the heck, Mommy! I can’t fit this soccer ball in my mouth!
What do you think Scout is saying? Or what do you think Ozzy Pups is thinking?
In case you didn’t know, my blogger-buddy Misty had a baby. And although I plan to descend upon her and the baby (aka possibly Scout’s future boyfriend) soon, we tried* to squeeze in one more prebaby date.
*The Braxton Hicks decided to trick Misty, so we didn’t meet.
So we were going to meet for frozen yogurt. A dessert fiend and a pregnant lady. Where else would we go? Duh.
As I scoped out the flavors online, I ran across this flavor:
Reeeeeeeeeally. Creamed corn frozen yogurt.
Who decided that was a good idea?
Veggies and dessert do not mix—That comes from someone who claims her PB&J is a fruit because it contains strawberry jelly.
And why does it say it contains milk? It should say, “Contains Corn.”
What’s the funkiest flavor yogurt you’ve tried?