Some action shots...

Just some shots that I've taken over the last couple of weeks. I just like how they capture the kid:





Love this one. It just cracks me up. We went to Disneyland a couple of weeks ago and the kid and M insisted on riding the Matterhorn. Of course, the prude in me was hesistant, but between the two of them asking to go on it, I relented. Here's a shot of them before they got on. I'm seriously laughing my ass off because of the kid's expression. I told him to smile and I get this "Ok, I've got to poop" look:

Here comes Peter Cottontail...

I simply cannot believe that Easter is this weekend. We're still listening to Christmas music in the car (heck, what are you supposed to do when the kid is SCREAMING to hear his favorite version of "Jingle Bells"? - plus, it's cute because he sings along). But so with the change of season, I enacted mommy's ubiquitous right to drag her child to the mall and take a picture with a frightening rendition of the icon of the appropriate season. Here's the 2008 edition:



and, for good measure (mostly because I like retropectives), here's a retrospective:

2007:



2006:



I would like for you all to appreciate the comparison to the retrospective of our Santa photos. For both Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, the kid makes the progession from:

Year 1 - "Who/what the hell are you?"
Year 2 - "Oh my good GOD! Whoever/whatever this thing is, get me AWAY from it!"
Year 3 - Coy but cautious acceptance, only with the knowledge that this will be over soon.

Can't wait to see what year 4 season brings us. Of course, we will be doing it times 2.

Can I get a what, what?

Not that I ever meant this blog to be all about video clips from other websites. But whatever. This one spoke to me. You go, Keith.



By the way, I used to work in the circulation area of "The Daily Breeze". I used it to help sop up a spill from the office water cooler once.

You don't need to tell me.

I suck at blogging. I already know.

Take a sad song...

I know my bladder is squished to nothing right now, but I do believe I actually peed my pants laughing at this clip. Some SERIOUS cuteness:

Calling all my homeys...

Girls, you out there? We're setting up the girls' night out NOW. Oh my god, I'm so excited. This is one of my FAVORITE TV series. I never get to the movies anymore, but I'm booking a babysitter NOW. I know, I'm shallow. I'm in good company. Label me, I don't care.

Shoulda...

I know this may be TMI (too much information) for some of you readers, but this pregnancy has brought with it a whole host of digestive complications for me. Fun stuff. First it was constipation...well, at times, it's STILL constipation. Lately though, my intestines and bladder have been smushed to almost nothing, so when the train starts choo-chooing, there's no stopping it. In other words, when I have to go, I HAVE TO GO. Such was the case this morning while driving to work. What can I say? Mama had to go. So I pull over to the nearest restroom stop on the way which happened to be a nice food joint called "Corner Bakery". Of course, I've got the kid in the car with me.

As I pull up to a parking space, I'm still wrestling with the internal struggle - do I leave my kid in the car strapped in his carseat or do I do the responsible thing and get him out and take him with me? Well, better judgement, twangs of guilt, and paralyzing fear that the couple eating a lovely breakfast on the patio would call Child Protective Services the minute I locked the car got to me, so I haul the kid out of the carseat and rush him into the restaurant and bathroom with me. As par for the course, though, the entire time he is asking me (loudly) what we are doing and if mommy has to go potty. Once I shuffle him into the stall with me (thank goodness the larger handicapped stall was open) I close the door and grant myself sweet relief. But is it really much relief? Here I am, balancing my bare ass over the toilet seat (heaven forbid any part of me actually touches the public seat - even with a seat cover) trying to grab the kid's hands as he walks around a dirty, germy stall touching EVERYTHING in site, cringing in horror as he does so, and shushing him to be quiet because he is loudly asking me, "mommy, are you going pee pee or poo poo? Mommy, here's paper - wipe your vagina!" Then comes the balancing act of wiping, flushing, pulling up my pants...all with one hand because the other hand is firmly gripping both of the kid's arms so he won't put one hand in the toilet while it's flushing and the other hand in the maxi-pad disposal to see what's in there.

Next time, CPS be damned. I'm leaving him in the car.