Sick

The Duck is home sick today with a fever. I too am home, though not sick (yet). I’ve never seen this child lay so still. Illness makes her obedient.

I’ll post some adorable sick-o pics a soon as I watermark them.

No, I really do have LOTS to write about

OK, I don’t have anything to say really. So instead, here is a new feature here on Type (little) a. [Drumroll]

Blogroll Show and Tell

Here’s how it works. I will tell you a few things about selected people on my blogroll whenvever I have writer’s block (or in this case, stuff I’d love to talk about, but can’t). And hopefully those of you who came here googling “If you want to destroy my sweater” can give my friends some hits, too. Or the guy who searched “how to make wife never stop loving me”. Dude. Two words. PLATINUM. CARD. (actually, that is the PG version. You know those weren’t the first two words I thought of. I’m a dirty dirty girl)

Amalah pronounced aim-A-la. Funny as hell. Mom to a toddler who often writes in all caps for emphasis, and has great taste in health and beauty products.

Debbie does Life A funny and real mom from Texas, who just got a sweet new job, that does NOT involve getting kids excited about selling wrapping paper.

Do they have Salsa in China? Mary-Mia and Rod just brought their adorable, whipped cream-aholic twins home from China. My only problem with this blog is it always makes me hungry.

Dooce Duh. If you have never read her, or don’t know who she is, HEAD OVER THERE IMMEDIATELY. I’ll wait. This woman is fucking funny. That’s all there is to it. Plus, who doesn’t love the stories about poop?

F-Bomb A couple (but mainly written by Henry, the dad) who are trying to stop dropping the F-Bomb around their luxury car loving son.

OK, I guess that’s all for now….

TO BE CONTINUED

What the hell kind of GD show is this?

Wow! Wow! Wubbzy!

I don’t get it. Am I missing something? This is stupider even than Boohbah. Ducky thinks it is A-W-E-S-O-M-E. Of course she does.

Hell no, I don’t want no Parfait

Something you may not know (or care) about me:

I have a window in my office. And I rarely open the blinds. When I do, it’s only to look at my “boulder” and say in my head in Donkey from Shrek’s voice “That’s a nice boulder”

I’ll let you digest this information for a minute, cause it’s pretty earth shattering. Still awake? Good.

It snowed earlier today. No big whoop, but it was ALL my co-workers could talk about, so I figured I open the blinds so that I could see this phantasmagorical snow.

Well, I was sitting here, and felt a draft on my left ear. I convinced myself that the daylight that was making me cold, so I shut the blinds tout de suite. GUESS WHAT? NO MORE DRAFT.

Tell me internet, because I need to know. Does accusing the sunshine of making me cold make me crazy, or just plain miserable?

Well bust my buttons, that’s a camel toe of a different color

Even though The Highlander and I have made some incredible progress on catching up on our domestic chores, I still have a pile of laundry to pack up and either drop off (and later pick up) at the laundromat, or haul to the laundry room and wash.

SO, I have a very interesting time finding something to wear to work in the mornings. Today I wore a pair of pre-pregnancy pants (read: tight) and a big blousy cardigan that keeps coming unbuttoned.

Thus the title.

I may lose some of you on this one.

It’s Blog for Choice Day. Or, the 34th Anniversary of Roe v. Wade. I’m a little apprehensive about sharing my opinions about this subject, for a few reasons. One, because I’m really not looking for a debate. And two, because I would hate to have anyone think that I don’t respect their beliefs, as long as they in turn practice their beliefs in a way that respects others. Did I lose you yet?

I was all set to write about how I feel, but Aaryn puts me to shame. I couldn’t possibly top it. She bravely shared her seemingly contradictory life experiences on both sides of the debate, yet weaves her words so eloquently that it’s not a contradiction at all, just a part of the larger truth.

I am pro-choice. I thank my mother for choosing to have me, and I thank God that I chose to have Ducky-Duck. Some women choose to abort. Some women choose to make an adoption plan. I’m so glad that any of us have a choice at all.

Asian Culture

I think Debbie is psychic. She posted this today. How did she know that the Highlander and I would have a conversation over broke Ramen Noodles about chopsticks? The gist of it is that The Highlander is a big show-off who can eat with chopsticks (and he’s LEFT HANDED! Who ever heard of a lefty who can use chopsticks? Nobody. That’s who) and I can’t, unless spearing my food on the end of it counts. (No? I don’t think it did, either). You should have seen me trying to eat rice at P.F. Chang’s, before I gave up and used a fork.

So I googled “dishwasher safe chopsticks” and 10 of them are winging their way down by the river. I considered buying 100, because I’m a sucker for bulk buys, it matters not that I don’t NEED 300 lbs of Salad Greens. Fucking Costco. But I digress.

But why do I need to use chopsticks anyway? If I ever go to Asia, then I’ll certainly do as the “Romans” do. BUT, if I’m eating in a chain restaurant in Atlantic Freakin City, NJ, then I’ll eat with a fork dammit. Because if forks don’t belong in A.C., then I don’t know where they belong then.

So Debbie, GET OUT OF MY HEAD, LADY!!

Play. Date.

Ducky-Duck and I had a great day today. We went over to Melissa’s for an awesome playdate. Kevin and Ducky kind of played next to each other, but he did get a few of Duck’s signature hugs and kisses. They were playing in his room, and they rode his horsie together. He went on first, and she sat behind him and told him to “hold on tight”. Melissa was nice enough to make us lunch, and Ducky really enjoyed eating at the table with all of us. She loved that there is unlimited apple juice at Melissa’s house.

I had intended to leave when Kevin went down for his nap, but we ended up staying until 4:30! Mommy appreciated her playdate with Melissa, too. It’s always nice to meet a new friend.

We really hope to get together again soon, and we can’t wait to meet Kevin’s sister, Baby O, as soon as she comes home from Russia!

If you want to see a pic, check out Melissa’s blog. I forgot my camera like an idiot!

Bad Bloggy Momming

I know, it’s been almost a week. Gawd! Honestly, it’s only going to get worse. It’s tax season. Come March, I’m going to have to wear depends because I won’t have time to go to the bathroom. (Gross!)

A while back, I found a little tea set at the “Dollar Spot”. Best damn buck I ever spent. The child has a tea party ritual now. She has even woken up her father AND busted in on him in the shower to give him “Daddy Tea”. And FYI, Daddy’s cup=Blue, Ducky’s=Orange (or or-gin), Mommy’s=Hot pink, and Purple is the wild card. She goes “doodoodoodoodoo” when she pours it. And you will drink it. And you WILL tell her it’s delicious.

The Leather Anniversary.

Dear Husband,

Three years ago today, I became your wife. I’ll never forget the look on your face when you saw me about to walk down the aisle. You were glowing. You looked at me like I was the only woman in the world. I was missing my father, and sad that he could be there to walk with me, but your love pulled me towards you with my head held high. And your love still keeps me afloat.

The way we came together felt so natural, so right. I’d even say meant to be if I believed in that stuff. You were my husband in my heart from our first date.

Thank You for listening when I get all excited about a certain tax return. Thanks for telling me my cooking is good, (and eating it) even when I know it sucks. Thanks for boosting me up when I’m feeling insecure. Thanks for kissing me when you leave, even if I’m asleep. Thank You for our daughter, and for what a wonderful father you are to her. But most of all, Thank You for Loving Me.

I love you with all that I was, all that I am, and all that I will ever be. I swear to betsy.

Love Always,

Wife

PS- They were fresh out of leather riding crops. Would you prefer a cat o’nine tails?

Thank You For Loving Me
Jon Bon Jovi

It’s hard for me to say the things
I want to say sometimes
There’s no one here but you and me
And that broken old street light
Lock the doors
We’ll leave the world outside
All I’ve got to give to you
Are these five words when I

Chorus:
Thank you for loving me
For being my eyes
When I couldn’t see
For parting my lips
When I couldn’t breathe
Thank you for loving me
Thank you for loving me

I never knew I had a dream
Until that dream was you
When I look into your eyes
The sky’s a different blue
Cross my heart
I wear no disguise
If I tried, you’d make believe
That you believed my lies

Chorus:
Thank you for loving me
For being my eyes
When I couldn’t see
For parting my lips
When I couldn’t breathe
Thank you for loving me

You pick me up when I fall down
You ring the bell before they count me out
If I was drowning you would part the sea
And risk your own life to rescue me

Solo

Lock the doors
We’ll leave the world outside
All I’ve got to give to you
Are these five words when I

Chorus:
Thank you for loving me
For being my eyes
When I couldn’t see
You parted my lips
When I couldn’t breathe
Thank you for loving me

When I couldn’t fly
Oh, you gave me wings
You parted my lips
When I couldn’t breathe
Thank you for loving me