So, this happened 2 weekends ago. And yes, I’m still alive, Yesterday was just the first day I’ve made a To Do list that extended beyond “try to get out of pajamas”.
More to come shortly.
Category: Rando
Torture
Few things drive Spike crazier than seeing Nerlens sprawled out in his favorite spot on our front walkway from his perch in the front window. They are (in order of ascending levels of hysteria): a UPS truck parked anywhere on the street; any cat (or squirrel) other than Nerlens lying on the front walk; and the mailman.
Dreft
Couple walks into Kroger:
“So, apparently we need to get gentle detergent to wash all the baby clothes and sheets and stuff before we have the baby.”
“Why?”
“I guess because the baby’s skin is super sensitive, so detergents can make them get rashes and stuff? And new clothing is covered in chemicals or something. Whatever, everywhere says that’s what you’re supposed to do.”
Enters detergent aisle and turns to the right:
“There! Perfect. There’s a baby on that one.”
“It’s $11.”
“Yeah, but there’s a baby on it. And it says ‘#1 Choice of Pediatricians’.”
“Anyone can say that, nobody ever checks those statistics.”
“I think that means at least one pediatrician had to say they prefer it.”
“Yeah, because they paid him to say that. It’s a total marketing ploy.”
“But there’s specifically a baby on the label. So it has to be gentle and designed for infants.”
“What about Seventh Generation? Isn’t that what we usually use? That’s like all natural, and it’s $5.69. Let’s compare ingredients, I bet you they’re identical.”
Turns bottles around, product formula not listed on either bottle.
“Goddammit, why aren’t they required to list what’s in this stuff? Isn’t that like an FDA violation or something? What about this one, This one has a baby, and it’s only $6.”
“That’s a child, not a baby.”
“So, what, are there no other brands with pictures of babies or words that say ‘hypoallergenic’ or ‘for infants’ or anything?”
(Scanning the aisle) “I don’t see any…nope. That’s it.”
“This is such bullcrap. You know they just stuck a baby on the front so people like you would walk in and pay double the price for exactly the same product. They’re trying to get you to pay an extra $6 for a picture of a baby on a label and you are TOTALLY FALLING FOR IT.”
Couple exits store, $11 poorer.
END SCENE
I woke up thinking it was Friday. It’s Tuesday.
Adrift from Simon Christen on Vimeo.
But fortunately, I came across this. And it is amazing. The story of how it was made equally so.
Enjoy your Tuesday.
What’s in a Name
I am now officially well into my third trimester, less than 2 months to go. Things just got real.
So I guess it’s time to start thinking about reality. Like work schedule and sleeping arrangements and…baby names.
Plus, those of you familiar with the internet most likely saw this happened yesterday, making the topic all the more apropos.
To preface this, I would like to start by saying that when trying to come up with names for the chickens, Paul’s initial suggestions were Flufflybutt and Bugkiller. So that’s what we’re working with.
Baby names are the most fun thing about having a baby…or at least that is what I’ve believed since I was 6. Turns out it can also be stressful. So stressful, in fact, that you can hire a consultant to help you find the perfect name for your baby. I mean…what.
But really, what is the best way to go? Family name? Will that offend the other side of the family? Something totally obscure (like Fedora…true story) or run the risk of having your last initial permanently tacked to the end of your child’s name? Spelling variations? Gender neutral? Is it OK to name your kid the same thing as a dog you once knew if you REALLY like the name? What if you’ve found the perfect name, but the kid’s initials are ASS? Is that OK? Throw in the fact that everyone, even strangers, are amazingly opinionated about what other people name their babies….and game over. Done playing.
So, yes, we do have a short list. And since we’ve already found out the gender (it’s a girl), and since Kanye and Kim just stole our front runner, we’ve decided we’re going to follow suit keep the name a surprise until little Helga Homerette Hennig makes an appearance.
P.S.
mom and dad in the middle and on the right, best friend david on the left. 1966.
Happy 45th anniversary to my parents, who (I hope) will love their grandbaby no matter how ridiculous the name is. 45 years is a really freaking long time.
Pillow Fight
Say hello to my new best friend (not Nerlens, though he’s up there.)
I came home from work one day to an enormous box waiting for me in the living room. What the f, you might ask, is that? A pregnancy pillow. From my mother in law and sister in law.
At first I was like, woah. Overkill. Then I laid down in it…and have been wondering ever since how I lived without one. It’s like a body pillow that hugs you back. These should not just be reserved for pregnancy. And it has been super helpful since I started getting pretty bad lower back pain this past week (hello, third trimester). So despite its appearance, much to Paul’s chagrin, this is where it lives now.
Recommend.
Cat Nap
Somebody loves the crib.
Going back, going back…
First, I would like to thank everyone for their condolences for Michele. The outpouring of love has been remarkable, she would have been so touched.
This weekend I went back to college for our 10 year reunion.
Reunions are weird.
And not just because sometimes things like that happen.
It is so fantastically awesome to see old friends
and hit up old hangouts
in a place you used to call home.
But it’s weird to feel that connection, those little emotional tugs you have as you walk down certain hallways and see certain people, and simultaneously distanced from what now feels like another life.
I always walk away from that blur of a weekend (and yes, it’s a blur, even when you are dead sober for the whole thing) physically and emotionally exhausted, part of me wishing it had lasted longer, that (some of us) had more time to spend together, but also slightly relieved that I survived and we don’t have 3 more days of graduation festivities go through.
Because now we are old. And I could definitely not handle that (I could barely handle it 10 years ago).
the chapel, ready for baccalaureate
Getting older is strange.
graduation seats ready to go, from the stage at nassau hall
So while it’s nice to be home and sleeping in my own bed, I’m already missing people and counting the days to the next time we see each other. Even if it’s not for another 5 years at our 15th. I’ll definitely be back.
Chicken Dance
This weekend…
If you give a mouse a cookie
…or a dog a toothbrush…
Paul is on a mission to figure out how to brush Spike’s teeth (his breath is terrible). It seems kind of ridiculous, we’ve had dogs my whole life and I’ve never ever brushed their teeth. Plus Spike is from Kentucky, which just so happens to be ranked #2 nationally in toothlessness.
But Paul is convinced his teeth are going to rot out and cost us money and this is just good preventative care. And Greenies aren’t doing the trick.
So far Spike will have nothing to do with the chicken-flavored toothpaste. Apparently it’s not as tasty as cat turds.
Rambulatory Ambulatory 