Saturday, March 31, 2007

My Grandmother Has That Dress, But She Only Wears It When She's Makin' Sauce

Andrew and I ventured to the park for the first time on Thursday. He had a lovely time in the baby swing (though he was determined to look serious every time I pulled out the camera), and we enjoyed the beautiful spring weather and woodsy scenery as we walked the trail. I'm a pretty naive person, often bordering on stupid, but since my Sweet Scooter's arrival I've been experiencing more than my fair share of paranoia. For example, as we were walking, I noticed a man sitting by himself in one of the picnic areas. This alarmed me. Precious and I had come alone, and no one else was nearby. What was this man up to, sitting by himself at the park in the middle of a week day? Why was he watching us like that? Why, he must certainly be able to see that I'm strolling the most beautiful baby in the world, and he wants to take it from us, Precious! I spent the next half-mile fanticizing about how I would jab him in the eye with my car key if he got anywhere near us. Perhaps I should consider some powerful medications ....

My mood improved considerably when I saw this sign.

I spent all day Friday waiting for the pediatrician's office to call me. Andrew had been fighting a cold all week and woke up at least 5 times during the night Thursday, sad and pitiful and too warm for my liking. I finally gave up the idea of discussing his symptoms over the phone with the nurse and decided to have the doctor do a quick ear and throat check to ease my mind before the weekend. Verdict: A little fluid in the ears (but no infection) and a red throat. A beastly virus that would just have to run its course. Lots of rocking and kisses and Tylenol seem to be helping.

And I have a grand proclamation, though you may not believe it. As of Tuesday, I've completed all my dental work!!! I am a new woman. One who brushes with prescription toothpaste and flosses religiously. And Dr. R. gave me the most delightful prize for my good behavior - the mouth molds used for my crown. It is my pleasure to introduce to you all ... the Dread Pirate Roberts.

Dread has been making himself right at home, snoring loudly from his bed in my sock drawer, demanding total silence during his favorite shows (24 and Supermarket Sweep), and eating all of my Girl Scout cookies. He's a wiz in the kitchen, however, and can make the dog stop barking with one stern look, so we don't complain.

And not that we care anymore, but here you go ...

Chris, we're so proud of you! Check out the link to Chris' blog (yes, this one's really him) in the "My Peeps" section to the right.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

I Don't Know How They Do Things Down In Juarez ...

Andrew and I had some way fun company this past weekend - my college suitemate Georgia and her adorable little boy Spartacus*. Look at that smile! Spartacus is 10 months old and an expert crawler and puller upper, so I figured the stereo and VCR were in for a bad time. But he cared little for such dreary contraptions and chose instead to devote himself entirely to ingesting the cord to the floor lamp.

Andrew & Spartacus composing a tune for Chris Sligh's next album

Georgia and I had a blast watching our boys play together, which consisted mainly of ensuring they didn't pull each other's eyes out and trying to convince one that the toy the other had really wasn't the solitary item in all the land that was worth a toot.

Andrew & Spartacus at the outset of our mall adventure

Andrew & Spartacus at the conclusion of our mall adventure

I also had the delightful opportunity to introduce Georgia to Napoleon Dynamite, a movie that fills me with a joy unmatched since I first watched The Princess Bride. I've been fighting an overwhelming desire to knock someone's glasses off with a steak ever since this most recent viewing.

My Scooter Bicks, clearly inspired by his older buddy's sweet skills, began to knee-crawl on Sunday. The breakdown of his locomotion as of today is as follows:

10% rolling

8% falling over

39% worm-crawling

43% knee-crawling

"Mamamama" has also made a distinct appearance in his chatter, which has excited me beyond all reason. He'll be chanting "mamama" while whacking coasters together and staring at the ceiling fan with a look of undying affection and I find myself shouting, "That's right! I'm Mama!!" I put him down a couple days ago to use the facilities and he started crying and worming his way frantically towards the bathroom. Never has a person felt more like a rock star. It was the first indication that he would most likely prefer me to Bin Laden, so I grabbed him up and swirled around the room with him like a deranged Barishnikov.

And now I leave you with a picture of Sallie with Blake. Chris roomed with Blake for a while and thought he was a great guy, which is too bad since you are NOT TO VOTE FOR HIM!

*Name has been changed to protect the innocent.

Thursday, March 22, 2007

Hi, My Name's Chandler. Could I Be Wearing Any More Clothes?

We've got quite the festival of pets going on right now. The new addition is the adorable long-haired dachshund on the left named Sammie, first born of Phil's friend and co-worker Dana. Sammie and Shiloh have become fast friends, eating each other's food and responding to all neighborhood sounds (real or imagined) with tirades of barking. Sammie loves Andrew and takes every opportunity to lick his face as though I'd dipped him in yogurt and covered him in chocolate buttons. I've also discovered that he waits sneakily near any door leading to the great outdoors, and, should it open, finds great joy and delight in running away as fast as he can. He actually caused me to sprint yesterday for the first time in ... ever.

Dear sweet Ashley (from my old office) kept Precious for me this afternoon while I visited Dr. Robinson for additional masses of dental work. He did his best with the bottle to date (Andrew, not Dr. R.) and had a lovely time playing with the xylophone, cars and other assorted toys Ashley's daughters so generously sent for his amusement. I found out during my visit that Emily had been to see Dr. R. only a few hours before. I pumped the good doctor for any dirt on Em's dental hygiene, hoping to hear that she had 47 cavities and was actually considering dentures, thereby making my mere eight cavities and crown look downright respectable. He said something ridiculous about "patient confidentiality" and wouldn't tell me a thing. She's probably completely cavity free and weighing the pros and cons of being the next Crest spokesperson. Everything in life just comes so darned easy for her.

I've got to go now, scrub some diapers with a toothbrush, then run them through the dishwasher. Seriously.

Simon showing some cleavage

Sallie & Stephanie

Tuesday, March 20, 2007

Knock's Wife Looks Like The Buun

Andrew with 1st-cousin-once-removed-Brent

We're back! Our trip to Sandersonianville Town was fabulous. Precious and I were treated like royalty and had so much fun that the return to the world of laundry and cat barf has been a bit of a shock. Where's my big bowl of coffee icecream and fun movie? Oh, I guess these old macaroni noodles and Full House will have to do. Where's my dearest Auntie, hilarious Uncle Mark, and cousins so adorable I could eat them with a spoon? Andrew and I are instead on our own today since Dad's in NYC (again). And yet we press on, hoping to inspire others with our hardihood (actually a word, my favorite of the day).

Andrew with his Ashton

In a valiant effort to stave off depression, Andrew has decided to enter the minor leagues with his crawling. He's still working on the knee coordination, but instead of the awkward forward lunges that had him landing pretty hard on his chest (and sometimes face), he's perfected the undulating worm motion and can get pretty much anywhere he wants to. Oddly enough, he headed directly for the stereo.

He can also go from laying down to sitting up all by his onsie. It happened the first time on Thursday ... I put him on his back, walked into the kitchen, then came back in to find him sitting up 2 feet from where I'd put him down. I didn't see it again for days, so I assumed Shiloh had fashioned some sort of a pulley system to hoist him up while my back was turned. But he performed his magic again last night during post-bath naked time. Ahhhhhhh! What's happening here?!

Now if you would, please indulge me in a moment of boastfulness. I was recently in my room doing something very industrious when I heard the cat making her "I'm about to throw up all over your carpet" sound. With incredible speed and dexterity, I dropped the bandages I was rolling for the wounded, grabbed Sofie and thrust her furry face right over the toilet. She did what she needed to do, then sauntered off to plot greater evil against my furnishings. But for the moment, my carpet was safe. It was one of my finer moments.

And now I leave you with a few very exciting American Idol photographs. I'll attach some at the end of my next few posts.

Chris & Sarah

Sarah & Sallie looking fab

Thursday, March 15, 2007

The Phonebook's Here! The Phonebook's Here! I'm Somebody Now!

It's after noon and I'm still in my wams, which I just noticed are actually inside out. I've decided that it's more to do with the today's exciting distractions than with my extraordinary laze.

First off, Precious and I are packing for a trip to visit Auntie Amy, Uncle Mark and cousins Ashton and Brent. We leave in the morning for NC and can't wait! These are some crazy fun people and I'd have them all living in my basement if I could. Some excerpts from recent Auntie correspondence:

The piercing eye pain I am experiencing while being expected
to view pictures of unauthorized people holding him [Precious]
with looks of arrogance and self-importance are really beginning
to take it's toll.

I might have thought that the spartan and dare I say blindingly
hideous decor in the room presented in the boxer picture should
have been a obvious trail of crumbs leading to the realization that
the picture was not taken in my house.

Happily, Friday is my short day [at work] & I'm done at 11. I am
however, perfectly willing to tell them that I hate all their guts &
they're ruining everything & I hope they all get spines in their
driveways & I have to leave even earlier. Just say the word.

You all want to come with me now, don't you. Well, you can't! Moo haa haaaaaaa! (my favorite evil laugh stolen from Gilly Smack)

Second off, today I find out whether or not my haiku campaign worked. Will the Peabodys continue to live here in The City of Delight? They probably found out themselves only moments ago, but have decided to torment me with their bloody stumps and make me wait 'til 5:30 this evening before sharing the news. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

Last off, Phil will be picking up the Fro Patro from the airport tonight, after which I expect hours of star-studded repartee. Phil got to chat with his mom for a few moments today, and here's what I know so far ...

- Simon hugged his mom and told her he liked her jacket

- Melinda Doolittle says "Hi" to my dear friend, Emily, and was very
excited to hear about her twin girls (an additional connection to fame!)

- Sallie got pictures taken with each of the Final 12

- They are promising zillions of pictures for my blog

Only negative feature of the day thus far ... a disturbing odor fills my nostrils whenever my very furry cat walks by. I dread further investigation ...


UPDATE: THE PEABODYS STAY! I just wet myself.

Wednesday, March 14, 2007

Sweet Fancy Moses!

Well, the whole American Idol thing didn't play out quite as we'd hoped, but it was still fun to catch a few glimpses of the family on national television (albeit wearing looks of distress while listening to the judges' comments, but c'est la vie). I think Chris sounded fantastic, waaay better than most of those other nut jobs, and the fact that there exist such talented individuals who have the capacity to arrange (and thus rearrange) music just blows me away. I seriously doubt I could hold a mic and walk at the same time. (I get flustered just trying align the snaps on Andrew's wambones.*) And what's with the schizo judges? You sounded just like the original artist and didn't make it your own and therefore stink ... You made it your own and sounded nothing like the original artist and therefore stink. **

The "Fro Patro" will stay in LA for the show tonight (where they announce who's been kicked off). Unfortunately we haven't been able to reach them yet to get the inside scoop on it all ... they're probably trying to talk Phil's mom down from a chandelier in the studio lobby as I'm convinced she hasn't slept in about 6 days and is sure to be in total uproar over the entire situation. Never has there been a more dedicated, caffeinated and sleep-deprived soul.

So, while we eagerly await juicy AI tidbits, I present to you ... more pictures of The Precious!

The photo at the top was taken just an hour or so ago of him sporting some far out acid-washed shorts that used to belong to Phil's father.

Here he is trying to eat a piece of apple. It hasn't occured to him yet to remove his gumdrop*** before attempting to put other things in his mouth.

And we've got serious forward motion happening now, accomplished by propulsive lunges (see below) instead of the prosaic shifting of knee position.

* pajamas

**Disclaimer: I have zero musical ability and actually have no clue what the judges are saying most of the time.

*** pacifier

Monday, March 12, 2007

Stefan, Shame Your Eyes!

The house has been full of American Idol chatter this evening ... very exciting! Sarah Sligh is quite lovely and down to earth, and I'm feeling rather famous at the moment. She not only ate the Chick-Fil-A nuggets I so graciously set out for her, but - get this - she's wearing my t-shirt tonight. I'll never wash it again....

I've got to go to bed as I have been charged with the responsibility to vote at least 1,000 times tomorrow night (this is to take up the slack for Phil's mom who will be too busy schmoozing at red carpet events to do her normal 2-phones-at-a-time voting ritual). Sallie has put together some fabulous signs and such - the Chris-On-A-Stick is definitely my favorite - and though there are no afro wigs amongst their luggage, this group will definitely stand out on the sidelines. A good time will be had by all!



Tuesday Morning, 7:00am

Here's the "Fro Patro" moments before heading out to the airport this morning. Notice how Phil (the official Fro Patro driver) managed to sneak in wielding the Chris-On-A-Stick.

Sunday, March 11, 2007

Twenty Pounds of Brown Sugar

Phil and I have just finished hosting our very first fondue party. We've had a really spiffy fondue pot moldering in our cabinet for years - I've just been too intimidated by the whole fuel thing to do anything with it. But when we realized on Wednesday that it was our turn to host this month's community group dinner (15 adults, 472 babies), Phil decided we should give it a whirl. We had blast! I've added the terms "kirsch," "Emmentaler" and "Sterno" to my vocabulary and experienced the pure bliss that exists in eating 17 pounds of strawberries dipped in warm chocolate. As you see above, Andrew and his good buddy Skeezix* also fell victim to the mahoganny confection. (Calm down, granola people. No infants were injured by the sugary goodness.) Andrew also busted out with his most impressive forward crawling motions to date in an effort to impress Thelma and Louise. I'm grappeling with the notion that I may have a full-fleged crawler on my hands by the end of the week.

Tomorrow we are entertaining once again, but you'll never guess who. Never. Well, OK, you can guess if you want, but you'll be wrong. Nelson Mandela? No. The disturbing gentleman with the lazy eye behind the deli counter at Kroger? Um, no. Orville Redenbacher? Eminem? Richard Simmons? Now you're just being rediculous. No, it's ... wait for it ... CHRIS SLIGH'S SMOKIN' HOT WIFE! (Before you get concerned, the "smokin' hot" bit I'm quoting from the media. I'm not saying that she isn't smokin' hot ... I'm not sure, being that I've not actually seen her in person and all ... I'll let you know.) Chris Sligh got tickets for Phil's parents and sister to go to the Tuesday American Idol show along with his wife, Sarah. Isn't that the coolest thing ever?! So they'll be coming to stay with us tommorow night, then Phil will take them to the airport on Tuesday morning. You all must watch A I Tuesday night, if only for the possibility that Phil's mother will end up talking to Ryan Seacrest or Simon Cowel. She is so excited, which will make her even more hilarious than usual, and she has one of the stronger southern accents you will ever hear. She might even be wearing an afro wig. I have no words to describe how priceless 10 seconds of her on the air would be.

Precious is pretty psyched about it, too.

*Name has been changed to protect the innocent.

Friday, March 9, 2007

A'Ding Ding Thompson

This one's for the girls in my community group, mainly for Gwenny Gwen who claims to feel "big" while in her third trimester. Bah. And I say again, bah. Have you ever seen such in all your days? In truth, I'm quite proud of this picture. You don't just get this big by accident. You have to work for it. One of my favorite memories of being pregnant was getting up with Phil at 2am and eating a huge plate of pancakes and bacon while watching Seinfeld. Good times.

In spine news (Jean, I think this will be the last of it), my wacky neighbor Tiendra picked it up yesterday after our walk together. Her son Flanagan* is only a few weeks younger than Andrew, so we regularly stroll our little ones together. Upon approaching my driveway, I warned her of the spine and gave her a brief synopsis of how it had come to live with me. Brave and slightly cracked soul that she is, she decided to save me from it. I stood in my garage and screamed while she scooped it into a bag and trotted off towards home with it swinging precariously close to Flanagan's unsuspecting and as yet uncontaminated baby flesh. As I was shrieking at her not to do it, she just laughed at me and shook her head. "Now I understand why your mom likes to mess with you," she says right before grabbing a decroded possum skeleton. Yeah, I'm the crazy one.

Flanagan & Andrew back in the day

*Name has been changed to protect the innocent

Thursday, March 8, 2007

Everything With Them is So Dramatic and Flamboyant. It Just Makes Me Want To Set Myself On Fire.

Here it is, continuing its festering rot at the top of my driveway.

Here's the face I was making when I took the picture.

Sorry Jean.

Tuesday, March 6, 2007

Freak Insurance

I wasn't planning on posting twice today, but oh my goodness ....

So I took my Sweet Scooter Bicks for a little walk, and we went by the droid house. No spine. The nastified fur was still there, but the spine had disappeared. I figured they finally decided to use to to flavor a stew or something ... that is 'til I got home and found the spine at the top of MY driveway. AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Me and the droids don't live that close together - not nearly close enough for spine migration. Come to find out my mother put it there. She took Andrew out for a stroll on Monday while I was being drilled upon, and she ... hold on, it weirds out my fingers to type this bit ... she picked up the spine (with her hand in a bag), but it in another bag, put it in her pocket, then walked back here with it and carefully positioned it at the top of my driveway.

My mother dearest is some kind of crazy. She'll do nightmarish things for a laugh. She's fabulous. But now I'm being held hostage in my own home by a possum backbone (my mom went back to SC today, and Phil's in New York on business). I actually walked past it before I knew it was there, but now that I know, I just don't think I can do it. I've got playgroup tomorrow and they're promising cupcakes, so I'm going to do my best to drive past it. I'll probably need to scream while I do it and I'm certain my toes will curl up to my knees, but what can I say? I'm strong.

Matchy Matchy Green Squared

I'm so pleased to report that His Preciousness seems to be feeling much better. Still a little crusty around the snoot, but so much more his normal, chipper self. (Nannie, he's totally into the musical bunny you sent him. I've listened to The Hop 700 times since Saturday). And, big news .. he has slept through the night the last 3 days!!!! 7:30 pm to 7:30 am. My muddled brain is not so quick on the uptake, because I continue to wake up lots. I'm having extremely strange dreams (unfortunately no more involving Ryan Seacrest or the Olive Garden) and I'm reverting back to thinking that the dog is Andrew asleep next to me. (During the first few weeks home from the hospital, I would wake up hysterically searching for Andrew in the sheets, even though he never once slept in bed with me, and I was constantly snatching up Shiloh thinking I'd found him).

Friday night with Ami & Co. was very fun. Their baby girl got the memo about the cat wetties and, fearing her raven locks were the next target, opted to stay up with us big folk. Being the cutie patootie that she is, no one minded. (All unattractive children are required to scrub the larder). Emily, I hope you don't mind that I shamelessly used your spinach dip recipe to lure the McSchnazzys into our tangled web. I think I gave you credit for it. Maybe.

Phil and Andrew had some male bonding time on Saturday whilst I attended a shower for Phil's sister, Crazy Aunt Sallie, who's going to make one seriously beautiful bride come the end of April. Rat fink that she is, Sallie could sit around all day eating cheese doodles and watching The Price Is Right and still have the figure of Jessica Simpson. In preparation for the wedding, I think she may now be working with a trainer at the gym and eating vegetables ... not good for the rest of us who are expected to wear swimsuits next to her on the family beach vacation.

Sunday morning in the cesspool was a wild time to be sure, but we survived. We thought no one came to the early service - certainly no one who had a child in Infant 1 - but we were oh so wrong. We had skads of babies (3 babies = 1 skad) and they all were extremely hungry, tired and otherwise bummed to be there.

Sunday afternoon was much more fun as my mom (Nana) came to visit! She drove all this way to take care of My Precious so that I could have massive amounts of dental work done on Monday. There's not much in life that I enjoy more than chatting with my mother over a hot cup of tea and a lemon cookie, so the 3 fillings and a crown were worth it. She brought along with her a mystery book written by Willard Scott that we discovered was meant to be a serious literary work. Mom described it as a really good 11th grade English paper. Willard, you go with your bad self.

My time yesterday at the dentist went really well, thanks to the fabulous Dr. John Robinson. Amazingly, I've never needed a crown before, so I wasn't sure what to expect. It wasn't bad at all. Dr. R. gave me the option of using whatever sort of gas dentists offer (laughing gas? nerve gas?), and I confess I was sorely tempted, especially when he mentioned it would probably have an effect similar to downing two margaritas. I've never had two margaritas before (I've never had one, seeing as they taste like ca ca doody), but I imagine that under such an influence I would find everything to be extremely funny and generally make a fool out of myself. You see why I was tempted. But, alas, I don't actually get nervous about dental work, so it would have just been to goof off... my favorite thing . Maybe for my next visit in couple weeks (oh yes, ladies and gentlemen, there's more work to be done).

TCBINW is thoroughly bored with my blogging and has requested a walk. Don't forget to watch American Idol tonight and vote for the incredibly talented Chris Sligh!

Friday, March 2, 2007

The Heels On These Shoes Are Grotesque

Does anybody want my cat? Oh wait, she's been cut into many tiny pieces and scattered about the forest for the wolves to feast upon.

So this is how it went down. We're having company tonight. We really want them to think we're cool since all my friends are up and moving away on us and we're having to restock. (The wife, we'll call her Ami, responded to my invite with the following sentence: "Sweet sassy, we are always open for dinner." You can understand my desire to be her friend as well as my need to be extremely cool.) Striving to impress, I set up a borrowed pack-n-play for their little girl to sleep in. Moments ago I went in to check the sheet for lint and pet hair and what should I discover but that THE CAT HAD DONE HER DISGUSTING LIQUIDY CAT BUSINESS IN THE PACK-N-PLAY. (Erin, if you're reading this, please rest assured that I will be replacing the urine-soaked mattress you so kindly lent me.)

Ok, I must now share the following e-mail exchange with Ami as it entertains me (and there's nothing I value more highly than being entertained).

Me: I've just discovered that my evil, evil cat went and
pee-peed in the pack-n-play we had set up.
P.S. You want an cat?

Me Again: I meant, do you want A cat (but an cat is pretty
funny too).

Ami: No problem…we can bring our own…bummer about the
cat, but no we don’t want a or an cat…maybe that is what
happened at your neighbor’s house and the cat ended up
as a spine…

So, if you're feeling sorry for me (as well you should) and you'd like to up my chances of having a friend, please type nice things about me and send them to

One more thing before I leave you ... I thank you all for your advice and encouragement on the whole brownie issue as it is one close to my heart. But get this - I took your advice and baked myself some decadent chocolatiness, rushed to wash the dishes and otherwise dispose of the evidence, then skillfully hid the treats in a cabinet containing cooking utensils that I knew Phil would never happen upon. Then last night I came downstairs after putting Andrew to sleep and found Phil rinsing out the blender as he had just finished his milkshake. Then this morning he confesses to eating 2 (TWO) Chick-Fil-A biscuits for breakfast at the office. He'll be a long while in purgatory, that one.