Bottoms Up

Ya'll! One of my very best girlfriends is having another baby!

I'm pleased as punch! Not only is she a wonderful mother already to her precious son, she certainly does a stellar job of keeping me in check on a daily basis too.

It's kind of like I get a whole new baby too. Just without the extra bitchiness, swelling, heartburn, sore boobs, back pain, loss of sleep, loss of friends and family because they can't stand your bitchy ass (maybe that was only me), superhero sense of smell (which somehow manages to zero in on only those scents which spark gagspasms at most inopportune times), total loss of bladder control, etc. Plus, I get to drink wine while she grows this precious life. I'm so excited!

Rachel isn't going to find out the sex of her baby. Hooooray! It's the best surprise ever ever ever. I'm a big advocate of wait until the baby comes out to find out what you are having. That's what I did. Original? No. But I will lay claim to being the pioneer among my circle of friends. Besides, it opens the door for many opportunities to be a smart-ass to the many nosy people who will undoubtedly ask you a FRILLION times, "what are you having?" Just think about the possibilities! I left many a stranger slack-jawed in the grocery store with my answers.

Since Rachel called me and formally announced that she was off the Mucinex and did I need any (that's how she told me) I can't stop thinking about the day my daughter was born and the moment I laid my eyes on the most wonderful gift I've ever received.

Don't worry, I'll spare you ALL the details...

After the months of anticipation and I was a whole THREE days over due I finally broke the law and threatened unspeakable things to my doctor if he didn't induce me. He obliged.

I was in labor for 12 hours. 2 epidurals later I was happy. And excited. And terrified. And Oh My Gosh I'm Going to be a Mommy! I could not wait to see my baby! Three pushes and she was out. My doc was about to bust the whole time I was pregnant to tell me what I was having so even he was chomping at the bit to show me the hind quarters of my angel.

When my baby came out she was upside down and face down. All Dr. S had to do was just lift her butt up a little so i could see her nether regions. (Here's where it get's embarassing.)

During the labor process it seems that EVERY bit of her swelled up a little. Okay a lot. He held her up with a HUGE grin on his face (he knew what I was hoping for) and stood there while I looked. Squinted. Peered. Edged closer. Then PANICKED! Ya'll I panicked seriously. Because with all the swelling I thought she was a he but OH MY GOD! He's missing something VERY important! I choked back my tears and yelled out, "I CAN'T TELL!!!!!!!" Dr. S. had to turn the baby so he could get a look. Maybe he missed something too. He then focused his very puzzled gaze on me and said, "Ashley, it's a girl."

Oh. Whew!

Summer Lovin'

"Mama! Maybe we can go to the beach house tomorrow and I can put on my bathing suit and you can put on your bathing suit and we can get my shobel and my bucket and we can play in the sand! Won't that be fun, Mama? I think that would be fun! And you can build lots and lots of sandcastles. Okay, Mama? Okay?"

"Yes, baby. Mama would love to do that. In fact, Mama wants nothing more than to be sitting on the beach with you making sandcastles and looking for Ariel again. This summer, Pumpkin, I promise. I'll even bring your Dora headband, your Tinkerbell sunglasses and your Princess bathing suit. You just bring those chubby little legs, okay?"

X Marks The Spot

Today, my very good friend and her family were baptized. It was such a sweet moment to be a part of and I'm thrilled I was there to watch (and maybe shed a tear or two that won an eye-roll from Rachel. Whatever. I'm sappy. Deal with it.)

In preparation for the big event I took EJ with me to buy a present for Boden and a gift for his parents, Rachel and Brian.

After much deliberation we settled on this for them
and a toddler bible for Boden.

EJ spent the remainder of Saturday smitten with the glittery cross. Holding it up to the sunlight in the kitchen with remarks such as "look how beautiful, Mama!" "is this for Aunt Rachel?" "she will LOVE it" " I love it" "I wish I had a sparkly thing like this".

"Eva, you do. Everysinglethinginyourroom glitters with princess/tinkerbell/barbie luminescense. You have sparkly stuff. That one is for Aunt Rachel."

After the service today Rachel and Brian were called to the front of the sanctuary to meet the congregation and I headed back to the children's wing to fetch EJ and Boden.

Upon re-entering the sanctuary with both children in tow, MY child headed STRAIGHT for Rachel (where she stood talking quietly with our Pastor) and planted herself squarely in front of Rach and said in the loudest most inappropriate church voice i've ever witnessed:

"AUNT RACHEL!!!! WE GOT AN 'X' FOR YOU!!!!"

Violet Beauregarde

I mean, not really, but I couldn't think of anything else... and she kind of looks like she's telling someone else what to do and just where to put it. Doesn't she? Where does she get that from?

And she didn't get a stomach ache either. Neener Neener.

To Whom It May Concern:

Dear Tube In Eva's Right Ear,

Why are you crooked? Not in the "you are so crooked, I can't trust you in my house" kind of way either. Why are you in my daughter's ear SLANTED??? Slanted so that the snot/mucus/whatever drains out of an ear build-up cannot find a clear exit-path. Slanted so that her ear drum is about to BUST WIDE ASS OPEN.

I'm sure you've heard the blood-curdling screams erupting from her at say 11:00 pm, 1:00 am, 2:15 am, 2:47 am, 3:09 am, 3:18 am, etc. Do you get the effing picture? She's not happy with you! Frankly, neither am I.

I'm reading vampire books. I don't need ANOTHER reason to lie awake at night.

And another thing... it ain't no piece of cake putting those drops in her ear. Just in case you were about to get an attitude about being drowned twice a day. Pissing off your three-year-old is a helluva way to start and end your day FOR SEVEN DAYS IN A ROW.

Little mini-thanks to Dr. whoshallremainnamelessincasehiswifereadsmyblog for being so sweet when she tried to kick him in the you know what during the exam. Hey, Doc, next time we'll sit on the exam table so you won't have to sit on the stool. Kinda puts you in a pickle, huh?

We (Eva and I) would be much obliged if you would straighten the F up so we can get some much needed sleep.

Thankyouverymuch.

Elevators not Bombs Over Baghdad

My 17-year-old sister showed up at my house yesterday. While I was home. Weird because she has a key and usually only "borrows" my house when she knows I'm at work. She also thinks I don't know this little habit of hers. Busted, Bre. I DO notice shit. I'm a mom. And I used to be 17. Double "oh-snap", because my friends and I INVENTED half the shit you are doing now. Just ask Rachel (who is to thank for the snappy title of this post) and Melissa.

N-E-WAYS. Here's my point. There is one, I promise. While perusing the Mac(daddiestcomputerontheblock)Book, she happened upon my iTunes library.

GASP! "You have Tupac? Outkast? Why does MJB look so YOUNG? Who is H-Town?"

Yes, precious Baby Sister, before anyone needed to beg forgiveness from Mrs. Jackson for the knocking up of the daughter, your big sister knew every word on Southernplayalisticcadillacmuzic and ATLiens.

I might have even been smitten with Big Boi before he bothered to become anything other than Antwan.

Thank God I didn't have to explain KILO. Even I don't have an answer for that one.

Sprinkler Head Games

Last month, while I was busy planning CHRISTMAS and the many etc. etc. that accompany such I received a phone call at work from a young girl who desired a meeting with me so she could talk to me about How Great Her Product Is And When Would Be A Good Time? Uhm, Hello! You are interrupting valuable online shopping minutes! Because WTF? My Barnes and Noble Sale Of The Century Online coupon expires in 45 seconds!!!!!! I gave her the standard, "I'm working on my 2009 projections and will be better able to discuss that with you at the first of the year, please call me back then" which is marketingspeak for "I know you are READING from an EFFING script and I'm not sure you are worth my time or my company's dollars much less wasting time I could be Facebooking or at the very least peeking at budgets". Whew! She was obviously not into her job and let me go without a bit of lip.

Blissful silence from the godawful telemarketing coven. Until yesterday.

She called again. Here's how the conversation went:

"Marketing, this is Ashley."

"Hey, Ashley, this is Jenna." (My assistant's name is Jenna, so I had to take a peek into her office. From my adjoining office. Which means I had to lean over to the right. Just a little. Yep. She was sitting right there. It wasn't my Jenna prank calling me to get in her little dose of humor for the day. As if I don't provide that already.)

"Hi, Jenna."

(note: On The Phone Jenna doesn't pause AT ALL so all of this sounded like ONE WORD)

"Ashley, I called you a few weeks ago to talk to you about advertising with us and we are going to be in your area today, tomorrow and Friday, will you have time to meet with us?"

"Jenna, what company are you with?"

"Smart Kart. With a K" (She actually said that. How punchy. Replacing the C in cart with a K. That makes me want to use your company because of the ultra-Kreative way you did that.)

"Sure, Jenna. Tomorrow around 4:00 will be fine."

"Okay, great! What's your address?"

I gave her my address and began the I'm Ready To Get Off The Phone tone.

To which her reply was: "Ashley, just one more question. You sound like a direct person, (my BP just missile launched to 279 because while she is still reading from a script and is SUPPOSED to say that because she's used to being shot down a lot she has really no evidence that I am direct because I really was behaving myself this whole time. I was in bitch-slap mode. And she was about to be Bitch-of-the-Week.) and so are we, so are you the person in charge of making the decisions for the advertising expenses for your company?"

"Yes." (Not-so-subtle direct tone could be heard here. Now. Not before here.)

"Okay, great. I'll see you tomorrow at 4:00"

"Great, Jenna. I'm looking forward to it."

Jenna had it coming. Only Jenna didn't show up. Albert did. (I changed his name to protect my MacBook Pro because it's causing throw-up burps every time I think about it/him/it/things/ugh.)

At 4:10. 10 minutes late. Asshole.

Albert then came in and reiterated how important it was that I be the Decision Maker for the company. I should have lied and said no. To protect myself and my desk and the things on my desk like my keyboard, mouse, favorite pen, daytimer, Blackberry, drink, current projects, Christie's magazine. But I didn't.

Albert was a heavy man who was an obvious smoker so this caused HEAVY breathing. He also had a tiny separation between his front teeth which served as sort of a launch zone for SPIT COMING OUT OF HIS MOUTH every time he needed to emphasize something. Which was often. Bastard.

You must know that I am a germaphobe with a capital F. I've had to learn to let some things slide since becoming a mother. Not many. Even EJ knows the value of some "hanitizer" stashed away in Mama's purse. Because. GOD. People are gross.

For one solid hour I listened to why I should advertise with his company and watched spit fly on to every surface of my desk. I tried the first couple of times to memorize the locations of the spitlandings so I could target them when I was able to get hold of the Clorox wipes. No use.

THEN!

The gall! The audacity! The BALLS! To get mad at me because I told him that I couldn't tell him today whether or not I would sign up today for his BRILLIANT ADVERTISING SALIVA.

He then began to blame On The Phone Jenna for not properly qualifying me.

Yes, On The Phone Jenna, it's your fault, you bitch.

Where is the Clorox?

Encyclopedia EJ

"Red-eyed tree frogs are afraid of hawks. And llamas."

"They are? I didn't know that."

"Just listen to Diego, Mama."

What happens when your new favorite shirt makes you look like the back of an SUV?

You post it on your blog. That's what.

I FINALLY got out of the house for some "me" shopping. The therapeutic kind that is absent of the constant, IDON'TWANTTOGOINTHATSTOREIWANTTOTHROWYOURHARD
EARNEDMONEYINTOTHEWATERFOUNTAIN
OOOHHHCANIHAVEACOOKIE?
WHENAREWELEAVING?IWANTTOPUSHMYOWNSTROLLER!

The only thing that would have made it better would have been an extra wad of Benny's in my wallet. No go. I was on a limited budget. A frugal spender I would be!

I didn't even GO IN White House Black Market. Don't worry, I'm not sick or anything. I just have my eye on a few things which are going to require me to S-A-V-E.

I found this shirt.









I know, it doesn't really look like me. Except for the black. And the white. It took a lot of pickitupping and putitbacking before I decided to takeithome.

I wore it once.

The VERY SAME DAY I saw THIS. In two different places in the SAME DAY.










The shirt is in my closet. Where it will stay. For eternity. Or until I can forget about the ass-end of this truck.