Dolla Bills Ya'll

Adeline's new fav thing to do is take everything out of my wallet and chuck it as hard as she can behind her as if examining each piece and then deciding it's not worthy of her slobber, until she finds a five dollar bill that was probably once in a stripper's crabby g-string and that is the object she shoves in her mouth.  It's a good thing she gets her shots because girlfriend would eat a dirty needle if she could find one.

Which is making our mornings a little more stressful than we'd like.

Why's that, you ask?  Well, because the first thing that happens in the morning is that the sunlight comes shooting through the windows only to shine light on the decapitated bird James has left at the foot of the bed, or the mouse entrails lining the bathroom floor, or the bird/mouse bloody combo piled on the middle of the floor like he's about to make a sacrificial bonfire of awful.  So instead of lounging in bed and taking in the morning with relaxation and happiness, we awake in a mad rush to clean up blood and guts before our baby eats it all.  Sometimes I feel like I'm living in a weird episode of Sarah Palin's My Alaska.  It's sort of a nightmare.

Anyway, one day Adeline will be old enough to clean up the body parts all on her own, at which point I will buy her her own tiny pair of rubber gloves and celebrate.  Until then, I'm not so worried about the money eating.  At least that doesn't leave a stain.

Floppy Hats and All Kinds of Discoveries

So, the other day I sent this text out to a few of my friends:


"Just took a bath with Addie where she discovered my nipples and spent the rest of the bath trying to pull them off.  Then she peed on me.  Felt a little bit like college."



And that, my friends, is why I don't have twitter.

Because no one needs that kind of information broadcast to the entire world.

(Yes, I do pretend my blog is a secret.  I have to, otherwise I'd never write anything due to embarrassing the people I live with.)


So, yeah, Adeline is discovering all kinds of stuff.  Nipples, electrical outlets, that it's crazy fun to unroll the toilet paper and shred it into horrible, melting to the walls-like confetti every time her mom takes a shower, EVERY TIME, even though she should wise up and just hide all the toilet paper for the rest of ever if she had any sense but apparently she doesn't and also, oh my gosh, she's just so cute when she's destroying the house!

I do not know what you mean "destroy". I only helps.

She's so much fun right now, and so into everything.  This morning when I took a shower, after she was done murdering the toilet paper, she left the bathroom yelling, "Goo ga di BA DI GAH!" which is her typical war cry, and then I didn't hear her for a while which meant a) I could enjoy the rest of my shower without a tiny, crazed lunatic yelling at me to "Gaggity GOOBERS!!!!" as she peeks into the shower like a creeper; and also b) that there was a chance she'd be choking on something in the corner of my bedroom and I couldn't hear her because she was no longer breathing.  This is my biggest fear when I can't hear her anymore.  Needless to say I jumped out of the shower and ran around my room, dripping wet, and screaming "Ba gah gooder DIGAR?" (because I think it'll help me find her if I talk to her like that?), and I could Not. Find. Her. 

My next totally rational fear?  She has simply disappeared into thin air.  She's the first human that can actually travel through time and space and she can't control it yet because duh, she's a baby, so she's lost in New Mexico, or worse, real Mexico somewhere and I won't be able to find her because I CAN'T APPARATE.  

Yeah, that's right, I actually thought that.  Granted it was only for like a split second, but still.  Mama might need some drugs.

Anyway, I pulled my shit together (slightly) and still dripping soap and water everywhere, my deflated-balloon-like mommy parts swaying in the wind, I ran into the closet, even though I'd already checked there because I had a slightly helpful thought, "Baby small.  Baby hide under things."  (I talk to myself like a caveman when I'm panicked.)  And lo and behold, there she was, hiding under my hanging clothes, with a firm grasp on one part of the cat's tail, while the very end of the tail was snug inside of her grinning little mouth.  

My daughter everyone, Sneaky McSneaks A Lot.

                                                       

Boy is she lucky that cat is nice, or I'm fairly certain she'd be blind right now.

                                                     

Huh.  I did not think about that.

The good news is if she ever hangs out with the Kardashians she's got the sunglasses inside down pat.

                                                      

Hahahaaaaaaa, it's so wrong, but that chubby, raspberry covered face kills me!  CHUBBY CHEEKS!

Oh, also she's in a new phase where she wants her floppy outdoor hat on all the time.  Even first thing in the morning.  It's pretty quirky and pretty fucking adorable.

                                                           

I only eat breakfast in my hat Mother.  

I know, I know, I don't match.  I also don't care.  THIS HAT FOR LIFE!

Who is this thing and why is she always wearing that dang hat?

Even Bob is intrigued by it.  I mean really, who isn't?

Bath Time

So the other day I was taking a shower when Addie decided to peek in and see what was going on.  At first she was amused and threw various household items into the tub with me, but then she took a good look at me, realized something was different about her mom and screamed more terrified than I've ever seen her scream.

I get that reaction a lot when people see me in the shower.

Since I was the only one home, and girlfriend was seriously distraught, I picked her up right there and she cuddled with me in the shower, me getting soap into my eyes and trying not to yell so it wouldn't upset her even more, and her - fully clothed - getting drenched in the shower, but not caring because she needed a hug and she needed it right now.  How do you deny a baby comfort even though only one fourth of your legs is shaved?

You don't.

So, the little lady got to have her first, fully dressed shower, and I ruined a new pair of contacts by not being able to rinse conditioner out of my eye in a timely manner.

Once she calmed down I sat her down in the tub and finished my business.  She thought this was hysterical.  Wet pants mama!  I HAVE WET PANTS!  THE HILARITY!  And since she was already halfway there, when I was done I got out and filled the tub up for her, all the while, still forgetting to take her clothes off.  She was like a teeny, tiny never-nude.





Anyway, it was one of the weirdest shower experiences I've ever had.  And I have a cat who used to shower with me daily.  Maybe I should introduce them to group bath time.  Kitty and baby baths?  BEST. IDEA. I'VE. EVER. HAD. AS. A. PARENT.

I'll go get my rubber ducky.

I'll get the bubble bath.

Getting Good

So, there's a hair dryer, a bottle of soap, and about five pens laying on the floor right now in a wiccan-like circle.  I honestly came out of the bathroom a little freaked out like, "Who is practicing a spell in my living room and why is it so industrial?"  Turns out Adeline put them there like that.  They're her favorite toys right now.

Am I going to win mother-of-the-year for letting her play with appliances and soap?  Probably not.  But was she quiet for five minutes so I could check pinterest clean up, heck yes she was.

Also, in case you're thinking you can just come over to my house and use the bathroom with toilet paper -  think again.  Adeline has decided it's her duty to unroll and rip to shreds every single piece of toilet paper ever invented in a five mile radius.  Sometimes I peek out of the shower to make sure she's not ingesting the Comet I've yet to secure in a cabinet with baby locks (I know, I know, mother-of-the-year), and I'll see her by the toilet absolutely killing the toilet paper with the meanest face she can make.  I'm not sure what it ever did to her, but holy crap is it getting it.  Getting it good.


Speaking of getting it good:

Oh my god what did you think I was going to post?  A picture of Channing Tatum getting measured where it counts?  This isn't some slutty blog people, this is about my baby.

Man.

But, ok, since you mentioned it.

I'm not sure why but for some reason Adeline's dad refuses to take me to see Magic Mike.  No clue.

Ok, so I really am gonna start blogging regularly again.  For reals this time.  But right now it's 85 degrees in my house and I've gotta go stand my almost one year old in front of the fan so we can cool off a little.  (Oh yeah, almost one year old.  CRYING ALREADY)

Could this jumper make me any cuter? I mean, seriously.  This is the cutest fucking thing ever.

Addie, language.

Sorry, Mom.  But it's fucking darling.

Well, that's true.

We're not on the island anymore.  *sigh*  

I found someone's sucker on the floor and I think it's the funniest joke in the world to chew on it!  Germs?  Who cares, this is hysterical!

At Uncle Andy and Auntie Christina's wedding.

Earning her keep.

Skype

So Addie's daddy is gone for a few weeks so we're indulging in a lot of illegal gambling, hookers, and blow. You know, all the stuff he won't let us do at home.  Addie looooves hookers.

Well, fine, she just sort of likes them.

Anyway, her dad is gone and since she's changing every ding dong minute we decided to try to Skype today which was awesome for about three seconds, and then all shit hit the fan because she was like, "Oh my God Mom look it's Dad how fun!  Yay it's Dad! Dad's right WHATTHEFUCKWHYISDADALLFLATANDSTUCKINTHELAPTOP NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO HELP HIM! WAIT, DON'T TOUCH HIM! HELP HIM! WAIT, DON'T TOUCH HIM! I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT IS!  WAIT, I HEAR MY DAD!  ACK IT'S STILL THE LAPTOP TALKING TO ME AND IT STOLE MY DAD!!!!!  MAKE IT STOP! I DON'T LIKE IT I DON'T LIKE IT MOM HELP ME!!!"

Girlfriend did not like it.

It was so sweet because she was so excited to see him and hear his voice but then her excitement crumbled into a pile of tears because her dad had been imprisoned in the laptop, and laptop-dad was making really scary eyes at us.  She clung to me and buried her head in my shoulder while her dad and I kept chatting and eventually she worked up the nerve to peek out over at him.  By the end of our talk she had released one of her death grips to suck her thumb, but the other hand was still firmly clutching a good chunk of my skin.  Poor little thing.  No wonder we don't have memories of being a baby, parent's just disappear  into tiny electronics? No thank you!  Pooping in the middle of a restaurant?  Not when I'm sober!  Rectal thermometers? No. No. No.  I don't want to remember anything before I turned 16.  That's the age I convinced myself no one was really waiting in my closet every night to possibly murder me.  Before that I lived a terrified life.

But that's a different post about overactive imaginations and how they should not ever mix with scary movies.  Ever.  Or even the Halloween episode of Facts of Life.  That shit still haunts me.

So, anyway - Adeline is changing up a storm.  I'll write more details about it later but for now here's a barrage of pictures of her from our last few weeks of island living!

Here's Dad getting ready to flee the island.

Bye, bye Daddy!

It was a long swim home.

In the meantime we enjoyed a lot of fun sandy time!  I'm not gonna say where I've been finding sand on this baby, but I will say - it's in her vagina.

(How does it get through the pants??)

Also, I gave myself a haircut.  Bangs in da house!

I love eating sand!

And playing on the playground!

Oh also, she's all about being held on my person in some way, therefore in order to get anything done, I have to have her in the Moby at all times.

Unless she's in the hiking backpack.  This is how I got the floors vacuumed the other day.

And then we Moby-ed again.

Yay girls!  It looks like five girls in this picture, but it's really seven!!!

(The other two ladies are preggo) (Next year is gonna be RIDICULOUS)

Yeah, then we spent a lot of time naked.  And covered in diaper cream.  

Aaaaahhhhh I want to squeeze that chubber little tushy!

And thus I end with pictures Adeline will surely be using in therapy as examples of why she is always being embarrassed by her mom.  And I don't care.  Because look at that naked baby.  That's freaking precious.

Just Psychic Enough To Know Where The Last Donut Is, Not Enough To Notice The Poop

I'm not saying having a baby changes you, all I'm saying is that now I can pretty much walk around with poop on my arm and not freak out about it.  Even though I haven't changed a poopy diaper in twelve hours.  And I've showered since then.

Also, getting pregnant made me psychic. Not like really psychic where I could have my own TLC show about it (Oh my god that woman is amazing!  Seriously, she's all kinds of witchy.), but in weird ways like everyone was guessing when I was going to actually have Addie and I knew totally it was going to be the 15th, even though it was two weeks before she was due, something inside me totally knew, and so I told my mom about it just so I would seem like a total phony when I was like, "I had a feeling she'd be early".  And then BAM!  Baby arrival.  Also, I kept sort of freaking out that the cord was gonna get wrapped around her neck, and I'd have dreams about it and then when she was born - cord around her neck!  Ok, so maybe I'm not psychic, maybe it's all coincidence, but then today you guys, I totally was like, I need to get to the donut shop before they sell that last chocolate long john because I do not want a gross one with custard, custard sort of ruins the donut and then I have to eat around the custard to get just the donut part and inevitably I'll get some sort of custard in my bite and it will be all squishy and gross and then I'll have to lick my boyfriend's donut to get the taste of bad custard bite out of my mouth and he'll be all, "Dude, did you just lick my donut?" and I'll be all, "But the custard!" and he'll be all, "Give me the custard and you go make yourself a bagel" and I'll be all, "Bagel?  BAGEL? It's donut time and you want me to make a bagel?!  How disgusting are you?" and he'll be all, "You're the one mutilating that poor donut" and then I'll look down and see it all chewed and mutilated, custard oozing from it like a wounded animal and then I will start to feel really sad for it because my hormones are all out of whack and I will lick a little bit of the custard so as not to hurt the donut's feelings (oh yeah, I'm that crazy) but then I'll remember I hate custard and will have to throw the whole thing away and be really, really sad that my whole donut morning was ruined all because I didn't get to the donut store on time.  So you guys, I went to the donut store and guess what?  There was one non-custard left JUST LIKE I THOUGHT!

If that isn't psychic powers I don't know what is.

Your psychosis is delicious Mama.

Uh, it's 'psychic' daughter.

Sure it is.

Aside from the every day donut we've been working and hanging out at fish festivals and stuff.  Adeline loved the fish festival her dad took her to.  

And I love him.  Saves the world in 24 hours every few years and cares enough to put a hat on her so she doesn't get burned?  Whole package my friends.  Whole mother f-ing package.

Working Vacation

Sorry it's been like two weeks since I've posted, but it's not because I was being lazy, it's because I was in prison.

For murder.

Ok, no it's not, but you would have felt really bad if that's the reason I hadn't been blogging and you were all, "Gosh she's lazy" and your friend was all, "Actually she's in prison for murder", and you'd be all, "Oh my gosh, that is so not like her" and then your friend would be all, "Uh, have you ever seen her hungry? That bitch can get loco yo." And your friend would be right. I am not a happy person when I'm hungry. Luckily I figured that out at the end of my twenties so now I carry a purse just for food. That's right, you heard me. A purse. Just. For. Food. It also now doubles as my diaper bag because apparently my daughter has inherited my trait of hunger-murder-hysteria, so I need to feed her and myself on the hour every hour so that we both don't freak out and ruin lives. (And by "lives" I mean "life" as in her father's since he's the one who usually has to deal with the downpour of cray that results from hunger.) (Also, back a few sentences ago I tried to spell 'trait' with a 'g', like 'traight' - because babies make you stupid. Which is why I won't see a female doctor who has kids, because you guys, she's totally not as smart as she was when she went to medical school because babies suck out your brains through your boobs and then you're all confused and can't remember anything and I don't know about you but I don't want a doctor who doesn't know the difference between trait and traight.) (Ok, to be fair, I doubt many, if any, doctors confuse the spelling of trait. I'm sure it's perfectly safe to get operated on by a woman.) (Good luck.)

 What was I talking about?

 Oh yeah, so I haven't written in a while. That's because we have relocated! Temporarily! My boyfriend's brother just got married -

Yes, they wore those through the whole Catholic ceremony.  So did the priest.

(No he didn't)

So we flew out to California for the wedding and are staying her for a long visit, and it's hard to move your life for a buncha weeks at a time. So I'll get back to it, but for now, here's pictures!

First arrival to the island, she's already drunk.  And happy.

Now on the beach, and though it looks like she's foaming at the mouth, that's actually milk I poured all over her trying to get the sand out of her mouth because she loves eating sand.  And rocks.

Drinking again.  I think she has a problem.

Her and her dad getting ready to go on a hike.  Jack Bauer really is a great father.

Me and Adeline getting ready to hit up the wedding.  She was in the biggest, cutest tutu I've ever seen.  I'm holding it down in this picture so it doesn't try to engulf us both.  It was so huge it would often float up in the wind and hide all of my baby so that I didn't know if she was even still in the thing or if I was just holding a giant tuft of tutu.  It was adorable and scary all at the same time.  But mostly adorable.