Chicfreak Cubed

Poopsplosion.

On Gavin's head. I do NOT recommend it.

That is all - Bon Appetit!!!!

So I was at the grocery store on Saturday. Very casual, jeans and a tee, but in MY humble opinion I thought I looked cute. I had even curled my hair. I walked up to pay, and got in line behind a guy I used to work with (at two different engineering firms, in fact). Said "Hey Tom - how are you?" and we started chatting. He saw the baby food in my cart, and being an enginerd with super human powers of deduction, said "Oh, you must have a baby now," and I said "I actually have triplets." His response, and I quote, "Oh, that must be why you look so haggard." Uhhhhhh, riiiiiight. Of course there were people in line behind me to hear this quote. I was half waiting for him to say "JUST KIDDING!" but he didn't, so I finally said "Thanks a LOT!" then punched him in the stomach, left my cart there, and walked out.

Okay, so I did NOT do any of what I just wrote after Thanks a LOT, but it would've made a better ending. Instead, I embarrassedly (yes, I just made that up) finished paying, avoided any reflective surfaces in the store, and scurried to the van before any poor unfortunate souls had to lay eyes upon me.

Of course, I felt like a schmuck, until I remembered that THIS is the guy who, at the first company where we worked together, used to sit in his royal blue upholstered rolling chair eating Cheetos all day, and wiping his fingers on his chair, so that when he got up there was a greasy orange ring around where his ass had been in said chair. I mean, not the most socially adept Crayon in the box, if you ask me. Still, who SAYS that to someone they haven't seen in years, in all seriousness?

Rest assured, though, from now on I will not go grocery shopping without full makeup, a professional blow-out, and head to toe Prada.

If I just walk through the house and randomly drop bits of Gerber Graduates, tiny cut up pieces of banana, and Cheerios, the babies would eat them just fine, as opposed to gagging and shuddering uncontrollably when I try to feed them these same foods at dinnertime. Or perhaps I should just mix in a few carpet fibers here and there. I'm just sayin...

4.2.09

Behold the evidence....

P.S.

Apparently my hands were the impetus for the "Man Hands" episode of Seinfeld.

P.S.S.

Do not be alarmed by the spectacular special effects sounds coming from your machine. It is just me making the "High Five Slapping Noise" via mouth.

4.2.09

So it may have taken me a month and a half to finish these two books, but they were HI-larious:

Naptime Is the New Happy Hour: And Other Ways Toddlers Turn Your Life Upside Down

Stefanie Wilder-Taylor

Sippy Cups Are Not for Chardonnay: And Other Things I Had to Learn as a New Mom

Stefanie Wilder-Taylor

Do yourself a favor and read them. You'll laugh. You'll cry. You'll learn how to cook boeuf bourguignon (and more importantly, how to spell it without the aid of google or wikipedia). Okay, really, you'll just laugh - but you will laugh a LOT.

Also, I am pretty sure the author is my new BFF. I e-mailed her from her blog AND SHE WROTE BACK. Stefanie, if you read this, don't be ascairt. I promise. I am only stalking you via your blog (and your next book). Thank you for so graciously replying!

to find out I'm not the only one who thinks the bebes' toys are possessed when they go off inexplicably in the middle of the night with their weird electronic voices. It. Freaks. My. Freak.

3.16.09

Tonight, I witnessed something so extraordinarily horrifying that I fear it may be burned in my brain until the end of time, or until Mickey Rourke stops getting work done on his face. I was getting the three live crew ready for cereal, and had Scarlett and Gavin strapped in their seats and ready for take off. Simon was off on his own, happily playing on the stairs. Kidding! I'm kidding! He was only playing on the BOTTOM stair. So I go to pick him up, swing him against my hip, and he is wet. I quickly pull him back and I am wet as well. Then I look at his pants. He is wet and seeping through NOT with pee, dear readers. Ohhhhhh no. It's what a mother fears most - the insideous dookie leak. I put him on the changing table of the pack and play and opened his diaper. Holy Lord - never in my life have I seen such carnage. I swear to the heavens above there were entire whole carrots in there, as if someone had broken in, opened his Huggies, sprinkled a handful of carrot bits in and closed it back up tight. I mean SERIOUSLY - did the boy even mush up ANY of them when he was eating? And WHY does this only happen when The Hubs is at work, for the love of Sherman Hensley?

So I got the little bugger cleaned up, fed everyone, went to pull Gavin out of his seat to clean everyone up, and he smelled VERY suspicious. Jaysus, Mary and Joseph, give me strength.....

However, in order not to leave you with such an image of my children, here are the two culprits at hand, this morning, captured on video in their natural habitat by The Hubs. Simon is the one you can see, hamming it up for Gavin, just on the other side of the bannister. Clearly we may also have to change Simon's name as we did Skid Row's. I think Angus Young sounds fitting.

MOVE IT OR LOSE IT!!!

You know who you are, woman who wears the same black outfit each week in Zumba, comes in and stands 1 foot in front of me and slightly to the left. Seriously? I am already in my space from Turbokick, which I just took, so I'm ALWAYS the first one in class. And this beyotch comes in EVERY FRIGGIN WEEK and invades my space. And she does it without even looking at me, as if I'm just not there. This is a total buzz kill when I should be high on endorphins from kickboxing, getting ready to salsa and merangue my heart out. I hope one of these weeks I don't get my classes confused and kick her same-black-outfit-wearing ass "accidentally."

Annnnnnnnd, now that THAT'S off my chest, I have officially unclenched.

That is all.

3.13.09

I've already told a few friends, so the cat is out of the bag, but we are officially changing Gavin's name. His new name?

Skid row

Yes, Gavin will heretofore be known as Skid Row, as he has become fond of standing in the mirror, looking at himself, and shrieking at top decibel a la Sebastian Bach. As Dane Cook says in his oh-so-funny Burger King bit, I like to respond to Gavinator, "Turn down the main a tad, Skid Row," or "I can't hear you, BK Broiler!!!" This is only funny if you have seen Dane Cook's stand up, which I have, so it cracks me up immensely each time.

Skid Row's other favorite thing to do is throw himself onto our big fuzzy white pillow on the floor, face first, and kind of growl like the dude in the Hotels.com commercial who stands in the bathroom squeezing two bottles of shampoo over his head shouting, "It's working! It's WORKING! They GOT ME!!!" Again, this cracks me up to no end. I am sure those who aren't Skid Row's mother would not find it as funny, but they would be wrong. Or without a sense of humor, which just makes me sad for them.

Gavin Skid Row

P.S.

Do NOT tell the original Skid Row that their namesake is seen here wearing his favorite AC/DC shirt......