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…So I posted some more Addie Chronicles for you; click here for where they begin. That very first post contains a link to my maternity portrait session photos, which I just think were a work of art (no naked shots, so don’t get excited). There’s also an entry about how she used to kick me in the right boob, and a couple of potty-training stories. (I’m making it sound so glamorous, right?) Have fun! *This morning, Addie J said to me, “Mommy, I love you! You are my best friend!” I had barely 5 seconds to enjoy and revel in this before she went on, “And Abita is my bestest friend! I love you, Abita!” That’s right: I’m second to the dog. *Also this morning on my run, I could see that I was approaching some sort of road kill. I neatly skirted it and was busy congratulating myself on not even getting a close look at it when the carcass of a rabbit suddenly appeared in my path as God is my witness I almost stepped right in it. I performed my (probably famous) standard shriek-and-leap, cleared the rabbit, and almost got hit by a car. Note to self: work on more dignified running. *Dave spent, like, two days looking for just the right plain white button-down shirt for Gabby to wear to her dance recital. She wore it to the recital on Sunday and then got Strawberry Crush (thanks, Mom, for bringing THAT over) all down the front. Now we need to find another plain white button-down before her Thursday recital. This sequence of events actually might cause me to have a hernia. *…But on the plus side, when I chose to talk to Gabby calmly about telling us right away when these things happen– rather than expressing the epic freakout that was going on in my head– my reward was to have Addie J bring me a piece of paper, saying, “I made this for you, Mommy!” She had not actually made that picture, and she chose the wrong picture to plagiarize: it was a drawing by Gabby of Dave and I, crossed out, with the caption “I hate my pairints.” …Okay, so I’m also going to work on the Addie Chronicles this morning. I’ll post a new entry with a link to the latest ones, when I’m finished. I think we’re getting to the ones where I’m really, really big, which is fun to look at. My throat was all swelled up like a toad’s.  email this post...Category: Abita (our dog), Dave, Family, Food, Gabby, Gabby's Artwork, St. Patrick's Day, The "J" / Comments: Be the first... So Gabby’s Irish Dance recital was Sunday. She was hilarious and awesome, which is her MO for life basically. You know how, when you’re watching a dance recital, one or two dancers will perform while the rest hold a pretty pose at the side? …Yeah. Gabby proved incapable of holding still during these times. She rocked her hips. She pretended to play piano. She danced around. She wasn’t trying to steal focus– she was just so happy and excited to perform, and so unable to hold still, that she got lots of laughs. Which I would have been fine with…. ….had she then not only crossed the line, but stomped all over it, by repeatedly doing a booty-shake dance during one of the numbers. I swear on my eyes that I have never encouraged her to act like a maniac. She was just born to it. (Then of course: after she finished, she tried to run up the aisle to sit with us– which is not allowed, and one of the other little girls was dispatched to grab her back– and wiped out spectacularly in the aisle.) Also, before the performance I stupidly, stupidly gave Addie J some gum (or “a gum” as she puts it). It fell out of her mouth three times that I know of: once onto my shirt and twice onto the floor. All three times she put it back in her mouth; I did try to stop her the first time it fell on the ground, but after she had already ingested the floor germs I figured, what the hell, and just let her have it the second time. Eventually she tried to play Cat’s Cradle with it or something and I saw her whipping her hand in the air, covered with a sticky blue spiderweb of gum. What I removed from her hand and sweater does not add up to an entire piece of gum… so I’m really, really sorry to whoever is currently filled with rage. I really do know better. email this post...Category: Culture, Dining Out, Family, Food, Gabby, Gabby's Artwork, St. Patrick's Day, The "J" / Comments: Be the first... Remember the Ok Go song, “Here it Goes Again,” with the treadmills? Remember thinking how there was no way they could top that, and Ok Go would be a one-hit video wonder? Behold: PS– I ran into my childhood friend Crista today, at Irish Fest (she looks FANTASTIC by the way). The best part about seeing her is how she said, “And where’s the J?” The J, of course, was wearing a pink tshirt over a green tshirt, mismatched pants, a pair of white infant sunglasses and a Hannah Montana sleep mask at the time. Which is pretty standard Addie J, so Crista got a good representation of how she rolls. email this post...Category: Culture, Family, St. Patrick's Day, The "J" / Comments: 3 comments and counting
“Mommy, don’t fweak out.” “Hi Dad! You are not gonna stop me!” “Mommy, Daddy says don’t fweak out.” (Which I solemnly declare I was not doing) “MOMMY I SAW A BOY AND A GIRL IN DA HALL!!!!!!! ARE DEY YOUR CLASS?!?!?!??! HEY, BOY AND GIIIIIIIRLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!” “Hi! We here so Mommy can poop!” [This was a complete fabrication. We were just in the restroom to wash hands] And this format cannot properly convey the Crazy Eyes she was giving us the entire time…. but she did mysteriously start throwing “Metal Lives” horns at dinnertime. I’m in over my head with this kid. email this post...Category: Dave, Dining Out, Family, Food, School, The "J" / Comments: Be the first... I finally took the J to the salon to fix Gabby’s butchering of Addie’s head. This story is best told in photos:
Please realize that, prior to the cut, Addie’s hair was all one length. Now she’s got this uneven mullet. Here she is getting her hair washed at the salon– just before she decided to opt out of having the shampoo rinsed out. I ended up holding her at a steep angle to one side of the sink, getting soaking wet along with the stylist, while she screamed, “NO!!!!!” and shoved at my ribcage with one hand and the stylist’s right boob with the other:
Upon sitting down in the chair, Addie became very interested in the emergency repair job being done to her head:
…And here she is, immediately after I caved and promised her a donut for holding still. Note the smug expression(damn it):
Addie J was watching TV and just suddenly started bawling. “NO!!! NO!!!! It’s OFF!!!!!!!” she was screaming, and indeed, the TV did have that blue screen of death. So I walked over and looked for the remote. Not in its usual spot; “Addie? Do you have the remote?” I asked. “It’s a beautiful day!” she responded, beaming at me with her alligator tears sparkling on her cheeks. “Addie? Do you have the remote?” I asked again. “I love you so much, Mommy! You are so beautiful!” “….Addie?….” Turns out she ordered so much porn and so many recent releases (and I’m not talking about the porn!! Zing!!) that she overloaded our account. It’s super-fun to call Comcast and tell them that your 3-year-old is the one who ordered all the porn, by the way.  This is my "struggling to remain coherent" face. This photo was taken at some point on Saturday night, long past the point at which someone should have taken me home and put me to bed. (And to my soon-to-be sister-in-law, Erin: sorry I left your shower on Sunday immediately after the gift opening… but if you think back to how rough I looked yesterday, and realize that I looked stupendous compared to how I felt, then you’ll understand.) I ran this morning for the first time since the debauchery, and let’s just say things were NOT GOOD. I absolutely must behave more maturely from now on. So one of my gifts on Friday was a picture drawn by my friend’s daughter, which prominently features my boobs sagging down to my knees. This from a 5-year-old (and I thought I did a good job keeping the girls up and perky). I also, and rather hilariously, got an immersion blender which I will use basically every day for the rest of my life. But my fave gift is definitely this, given to me by my friends Jenny and DJ. Dave says I’m going to start wearing it on a chain around my neck a la Flava Flav:  And did I play this up for all I was worth? ... You know I did. email this post...Category: Birthday, Culture, Dave, Dining Out, Family, Food, Holidays, Hot Mess of the Week / Comments: 1 comment so far... So tomorrow is my birthday. This is why I’ll be found at the bar down the street at about 11pm tonight, weeping into a Jager bomb celebrating with my friends. And earlier today, the kids gave me birthday cards. Behold: ADDIE J: [She did also create one of those drawings of a person with two misshapen crazy eyes and teeth that are all points. "That's you, Mommy," she said, stroking my head with the hand she had just stuck into her Jamba Juice. "That's my beau-ful Mommy!"]
So apparently, I’m doing something right to deserve these kids. I would like to request that the above notes be inscribed on my headstone some day, please. And if you’re headed out tonight and happen to see me begging to be carded enjoying my birthday party– remember: my favorite beer is Abita Turbo Dog…. but if you’re buying, I’ll probably drink anything. email this post...Category: Birthday, Cameron, Family, Gabby, Gabby's Artwork, The "J" / Comments: 1 comment so far...
1. The woman who checked me in was wearing HUGE red glasses and a really obvious wig. She looked like a Muppet. She also told me I was using the vision screening machine wrong because I was holding it with my left hand instead of my right. Evidently, it’s possible to secretly read all the little letters from a cheat sheet in your left hand, you see. 2. A guy came along and sat next to me after I received my number; I think I recognized him from “American’s Most Wanted.” There were a sea of empty chairs around me, so I figured he was after my number a la Beetlejuice and I kept a death grip on it. A few minutes later he leaned over and said in his scary serial killer voice, “Excuse me– do you mind if I ask you where you got your boots? They’re just precious.” 3. The cashier became fascinated with my name and kept repeating it over and over. “Giampaolo… Giampaolo… Giam– Gia– wait, do it again?” she would say. I would oblige and she’d start giggling delightedly and the whole process would begin again: “Giampaolo.. Giam– G– hold on a minute….” Needless to say, everyone in line behind me was resentful and surly and felt this was all my fault. 4. I stood in the Camera line behind a woman in an enormous leopard fur coat, with some kind of clashing animal-hide headbeand and at least a half-tube worth of bright red lipstick. I can’t believe it didn’t glue her mouth shut. 5. The man behind me in the Camera line was inexplicably using 3 crutches to get around. (No– he only had two arms. I counted.) 6. As far as I can tell, the man in this photo is the one who took my photo, only now he’s a woman. She was the scariest by far: she called my name, I walked over and said, “Hi–” and she barked, “SIGN-YOUR-NAME-TO-THIS-DON’T-GO-OVER-OR-UNDER-THE-LINE-SIT-DOWN-ON-THE-CHAIR-DON’T-MOVE-THE-CHAIR-HOLD-STILL-MOVE-ASIDE-I’LL-CALL-YOU-WHEN-WE’RE-READY!!!!!!!!” I’m still feeling cowed. I think she was pissed that I amused the cashier. |
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