HA! It’s NOT just me. There are plenty of other people out there who can’t stick to one topic all the time. Fine, I can only come up with ONE, but she’s an outrageously hilarious blogger who writes “not that you asked.” And sure, she’s pregnant, so she has that Mommybrain excuse that I don’t have (no, JiggyPa, I really don’t. No new goats. EVER. Sorry.) but still. And she manages to just glide from topic to topic without needed to chop it all up with subtitles like I did.
Anyway, what was my point? Oh, yes — yesterday’s post wasn’t some unheard-of breach of blogging rules. HA! Vindication for breakfast. I love it.
Hodge-Podge. Mish-Mash. Me throwing very short stories (barely anecdotes) together in one post without a cohesive theme. Here goes:
I guess she COULD really need a differential diagnosis (more…)
It is impossible to have anything resembling a conversation with P3 anymore. She has an entire vocabulary of made-up words (I wonder where she gets THAT from…?) It used to be funny to try to figure out what she meant, but now when I don’t understand her (which is often every [second of the] day) she gets scaryfrustrated, as if I’M the one not making any sense. Her redheaded temper is getting daily hourly workouts, and providing a workout buddy for my own brunette-but-no-less impressive temper.
I know I’m supposed to think she’s adorable and precocious (more…)
Wouldn’t you know it. I write an entire post pointing all of you to my fantastic fabulous secret word source site…and today’s word? LICKETY-SPLIT. Great. There’s a grandma word if I ever saw one. (more…)
Obviously, something about the playground turns goats into monkeys. There’s no way that P2 could do this with cloven hooves:
P3 was similarly transformed:
Unfortunately, by the time we arrived back home, the goat reversion was complete. Then again….houseful of monkeys? No, thanks.
Confession: I’m a word nerd. (Gasp, you say? All right, that’s not the confession.) Real confession: (more…)
Left alone with two markers (which were on a high shelf but not as high as the 2nd-highest pantry shelf…so you’d think I would know better by now)
For three seconds: (more…)
When you have a baby, it takes a while to get your body back. At least, it does for me. (My sister-in-law has ginormous babies with ginormous heads and bounces back like a rubber band. Hate her. [Kidding.]) Okay, fine. When I have a baby, it takes me a while. There. But “the baby” is 40 months old now, which means I’m well past the postpartum recovery period excuse. (more…)
I suppose I’m lucky I didn’t wake up to his breakfast order instead… At least he didn’t sign his name this time:
Yep. That’s my glorious kid. Who knew goats were such good spellers?
Filed under: Exile, P2 | Tags: age-appropriate television, Parenting, the Haute
(Setting: informal family-room-picnic dinner, with television on)
Don Rickles, in an old Tonight Show clip: That’s it! They’re all fags! Those boys are all fags! (more…)
