Why Piper and I cannot take naps together

SETTING: Afternoon naptime - Piper's bed
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Piper: Mommy, I sing you a yuyabye! (to the tune of Go to Sleep Little Baby) MamaMAAAAA, MamamAAAAAAAA, Mama MA MA MA MAAAAAAAAAA!!!! MAMAMAAAAAAAA MAMAMAAAAAAA, mamamamama ma MAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!

Me: OK, time for sleep now!

Piper: Mummy, you a best fwend ina whole wide world!

Me: You're my best friend too, sweetie! Night night now.

Piper: (Sticking her finger in my face) PICK PICK PICK! I pick you nose! Hahahahaha!

Me: Honey, don't do that. It's sleepy time now.

Piper: Dat's INSTUCKSING!

Me: (laughing) Yes, it IS disgusting. No more playing, honey. Sleepytime.

Piper: I get bleeding nose ALL OVER Piper's bed. (when she picks too much)
Where Daddy? At wook? Where Michie? Gamma here? etc......
(starts singing) MOMMY I YIKE WHEN YOU COME HOME, YOU COME HOME, YOU COME HOOOOOOOOME!!
HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOME HOOOOOOOME!!!
MARY HAD A YITTLE YAM! YITTLE YAM! YITTLE YAM!!! PIPER HAD A YITTLE YAM, WHO FEET ARE WHITE AS SNOOOOOOWWWWWW!!!!

Me: (starting to sing along to her silly lullabye..) And everywh-

Piper: SSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! Mommy, dat's toooo noisy! Baby Suzy is sleeping!

Me: Honey, I'm going downstairs, it's time to go to sleep.

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In other nostalgic news:

Although Facebook is mostly a time sucking vortex, and "Ah wish ah could quit you, Facebook!", sometimes, it is pretty cool.

Today I got in touch with a girl I used to babysit in Montreal in 1990. I recognized her name, and sent her a message, and she wrote me back, and it was HER! She was only a year old when I lived with her family, and I used to carry her around all of the time, play Itsy Bitsy Spider with her, rock her to sleep, and put ketchup on all of her food, so she would eat it. I just adored her. And now she is a lovely young lady, going to UNIVERSITY. I don't get it. Who will cut her food into tiny pieces and change her diapers at UNIVERSITY??!!! Who will apply the ketchup? Do they even HAVE cribs in the dorm rooms? It makes no sense to me. She is the age now that I was when I was her nanny. It's demented.


And, here are some more videos... because I can't help myself:

Ruby & Lily wrestling yesterday:





Stoned Piper sings the alphabet. In case you were wondering, the letter that comes after Z is "BURP"!



.

I caught a meme

Tina passed this meme on to me, and no topical cream is getting rid of it. It's still there, and I have no choice but to take it by the horns and ride it out, embarrassing as it may be. So.... I guess it's like a rash.. AND a bull. A rashy bull. I have daily little stupid fantasies that are so ridiculous, and I cannot seem to remember any good ones at the moment. But I love Tina, and all of her monkeyesque gallivanting, so I will list 3 of my boring old standard fantasies.

1. I am the greatest artist in the universe. I paint, and people weep. I sculpt, and they quiver. I sign my name, and they gush over my beautiful penmanship. My house looks like heaven, lovingly adorned with all of my work. I never run out of inspiration, and am completely fulfilled by this passion. People give their left nipples for me to paint their portraits. Consequently, I have a large box of nipples in my sock drawer. ( haha, that last part is not in the fantasy.)

2. I sing and play the guitar and piano. I have one little fantasy of me singing in a bar, sitting on a stool, playing the guitar.. my own song, of course... and everyone in the bar instantly falls in love with my voice/me. My voice is clear and strong, and maybe a little raspy at at times - not smoker raspy, just sexy and gritty. My voice flows out effortlessly, and gives people the chills. Also, my hair and skin are glowing, and I look like an angel. And I am wearing no makeup other than lip gloss. I have another one where I am singing a duet (same scenario) with some famous male singer, and he is BLOWN away by my talent and charisma. My extreme coolness keeps me from even caring very much. I sing for the JOY of it, not for the fame, which I could have if I wanted. My songs change peoples' lives.
I would sing ALL OF THE TIME if I had a beautiful voice, especially to my daughters.

3. I picture myself running down a path, strong and lean, and enjoying every minute of it. I am an athlete, and LOVE to run, bike, hike and rock climb, and I ACTUALLY DO THESE THINGS. I eat healthily, with no food issues whatsoever, and have glowing, sweaty, sun kissed skin from all of my outdoursin' around. My energy is limitless. My body is a temple. (In reality, my body is more like a 7Eleven, full of junk, preservatives and celebrity gossip.) Another big fantasy here is of me dancing - on a stage, in a club, on TV.. everywhere.. so graceful and coordinated. It is the funnest workout ever - my daughters dance with me, and I teach them my unbelieveable moves, which they pick up easily, as they have my dance queen genes. People gawk at me in envious fascination, thinking, "How does she DO that?! Amazing! Beautiful!" Any good dance song starts this little fantasy up.

These fantasies make me realize that I am a lazy cow. I could actually be doing things to reach some of these goals, but I am not. Instead, I will go eat some Kraft Dinner. In the words of Tina, GOOD DAY SIR.

Anybody else have a little daydream to share? I love to hear these.

ps- Now I keep thinking of more... I've got a good one where I can heal people, and a kick ass psychic one.
OK, I'm done.

What's been keeping me busy lately

I feel like I've reconnected with my girlfriends lately - having playdates, going out for dinner, shopping, planning trips together, giggling, etc.. I didn't realize how much I've missed my grown up girl time, having been semi-hibernating with my baby girls for the past year. It's been fun and refreshing, and a great way to recharge my batteries. And it has helped me to be more present and appreciative of my time with Robb, Piper, Ruby and Lily as well.

We've also been playing outside every day that we can. The sunshine has helped to snap me out of the winter funk I've been stuck in, and I'm feeling so good. Summer, I love you.


And also, I've been very busy enjoying this...

Happy Monster Day

The day was a little piece of heaven. I slept in like a lazy old cat, and woke up to a yummy breakfast, cards, flowers, and a beautiful gift.

As Piper handed me my card, decorated with baby hieroglyphics, she said, "Happy Balentimes Day, Mommy! Happy Berfday! Happy MONSTER Day!

I'm feeling so blessed.

The Tiniest Angels

Please, if you do pray, say one for my friend, Kate. Sweetsalty Kate. She is in the hospital right now with her brand new twin boys, Liam and Ben, who were born too early, at 28 weeks, due to TTTS, and are struggling to make it in this big old world.

If you don't pray, please send all of your positive vibes to this beautiful family, to keep them strong and healthy and together.

Kate - keep doing what you're doing, mama. Don't let all of those terrible wires, tubes and beeping machines keep you from those boys. Sing to them, make that precious milk, breathe, write, eat, gaze, love, and just soak up those little angels. Never before has living in the moment been so important.

We love you.

I'm not dead yet

A few weeks ago, Robb, my sister and I were sitting around talking about who would be on our Celebrity Lists. You know, a list of 10 celebrities who you'd want to sleep with, and your significant other agrees to allow it.
Since it will never happen, this is really not as liberal as it sounds.

My sister couldn't limit her list to 10, because she is a whore. I'm only kidding, she is just a hypothetical whore. Robb is also extremely slutty in his fantasies, and had no problem coming up with a list in 3 seconds. His only criteria is that his celebrity must have big boobs, and not be a cannibal. Easy peasy.

Sadly, I couldn't come up with a SINGLE person, as most celebrities are either insane, Scientologists, or cannibals. I used to always have a celebrity crush, and am not sure when I lost my mojo. Robb told me that I am "dead inside".

Since I am totally destroying my chances of having famous, meaningless extramarital sex, I realized that I must work on my list, and I have been trying for WEEKS to think of 5 celebrities who don't gross me out. I blame the media - we just hear too much about the slimy activities of the rich and famous these days, and it makes it almost impossible to form a decent obsession. Tom Cruise, Hugh Grant, and Mel Gibson, you guys just don't make the cut anymore. And Brad Pitt - YAWN!!! He's so boring, I almost fell asleep while typing his name just now. And I'm sorry, creepy Jude Law, but you are just going to have to go sleep with my sister. You may have to wait in line.

Here's all I could muster up:

1. Clive Owen. Yowza. But he must remain in his character from "Closer".

2. Ryan Reynolds. He is cute, and funny, and obviously doesn't take himself too seriously. But he can't mention anything about Van Wilder, because that would ruin it for me.

3. Bruce Willis. He's gotten better with age.

4. Paul Rudd. I'm not sure why, but he's charming to me.

5. David Beckham. Purely physical. But I would probably seem morbidly obese after sleeping with his praying mantis of a wife.


It would be much easier for me to invent a list of famous crushes who I want to hang out with, but DON'T want to sleep with. Jack Black, Jon Stewart, Casey Affleck, Robb Corddry and Philip Seymour Hoffman. BAM- done. We don't have to take our clothes off, to have a good time, oh no. We could dance and party all night, and drink some cherry wine.

My husband says it's OK.

(Sorry I did not link to any of the celebrities, but I am lazy, and I need to conserve my energy for the myriad of lusty one night stands I will be having as soon as all of the famous people read my blog - as they ALL do daily...)

I am just waiting for the locusts...

We had a family birthday party for Ruby & Lily on Sunday. We settled on a nice little barbecue, and served our 16 guests hamburgers, caesar salad, cake, and the Norwalk Virus. I am no etiquette expert, but I think that, in many circles, this is frowned upon. The virus usually last for 24-48 fun filled hours. The symptoms include extreme stomach cramping, vomiting, diarrhea, muscle aches, exhaustion, a complete loss of dignity, and a renewed interest in prayer.
(After the events that followed, I think I may just cancel our Hepatitus B Potlock that I was planning for Mother's Day.)

By Monday, about 10 of us were violently ill, with very bad things coming out of multiple orifices of our bodies. This included Ruby, Lily, Piper, and myself. Approximately 8,000 loads of laundry were done in my house, due to the poop and barf explosions on the beds, floors, couch, and our clothing. Have you ever had someone puke on your neck? I do NOT recommend it. By Tuesday morning, I was crying on the bathroom floor, praying for the sweet release of death. I suspect Piper was praying too, but when she opened her mouth, all that came out was, "blOOAAAARGHHHHHHHHH! BLEOAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHRRRHHHHHH!" so I can't be positive.

The thing that pisses me off is that I know where this little plague originated. I had taken Lily to the ER at the Children's Hospital on Friday night, because her whole body had mysteriously broken out into hives. After our 2 weeks in the waiting room, the hives had, of course, almost disappeared, and we were sent home with no idea why she'd had this reaction. But I think as a parting gift, we also carried home the virus, to share with our loved ones. Next time, I will not be going to the Children's Hospital unless a limb has been severed. That waiting room is just a big germ hotel.

Here are some pictures of the birthday party, pre-pukefest.

What the hell are those?


I am this many


Want some?


Cheeeeese!


And here we are opening gifts, mere hours before the plague wiped us all out.