If It Ain't Broke

With pregnancy come the dropsies. One minute it's in your hand, and the next, it's flying across the room. Not fun and not particularly safe when the objects can be broken into a million tiny not safe glass pieces. 

Being the smartipants new parents that we think we are, Kyle and I researched the best kind of plastic drinking glasses out there. After way too much time spent online, we found a made in the US of A product that claims to beat 'em all, literally. Tritan plastic bounces right back after being run over by a Chevy SUV. 

We bite and order ourselves up 6 nice drinking plastics. 

Here's what they don't tell you. 

These plastics are so much lighter (duh) than glass glasses that if you so much as look at them the wrong way they will tip over. 

I've been soaked to my underwear about 15 times since those blasted plastics arrived. 

As annoying as it is to be cleaning up spilt water all the time, there is an added benefit besides not having to clean up broken glass... It forces me into a mock mopping of my floor and that can only be a good thing. 

38 Weeks

Arden must think that means she has to ask 38 times for everything she wants. Or, perhaps she thinks it means it's how many pieces she should rip up her magazine into. I'm pretty sure it is the number of times I tried to stop myself from swearing today... Yikes. 

38 kicks, turns and punches are sometimes what my little man does in 38 seconds. I love his wild style already. 

It was roughly 38 blocks or 1.2 miles each way on our walk to Michael's today. Call me crazy as I confidently call myself but I needed to stock up on projects for Arden once our little guy makes his appearance. She won't leave me alone for 38 seconds (I've timed it) so I have no idea how I'll manage a newborn too. 

38 is definitely the number of times I've said "if you put that in your mouth one more time I'm throwing it in the garbage" today. 

I'm not sure exactly how many times today I've named off princesses, asked Arden to say please, been too hard on her or too hard on myself but I'm pretty sure it beats my number of the day. Sesame Street would need a few more picnic tables full of kids to reach our number. What's yours?

Confession #17: I Wanted This

I know I wanted something. I'm not sure it was this. 

I guess I wanted to spend every waking minute answering demands, feeding, changing, clothing and entertaining my minions. Meow, meow. Scratch, scratch. At an absurdly loud volume "Momma, Momma, AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!" The first thing that makes sense to come out of a 2 1/2 year olds' mouth the moment she wakes up at 6:30am. 

Arden: "GOLDFISH!!!!" 
Me: "How do you ask for something?"
Arden, with a total change of voice from crazed to angelic: "Goldfish please Momma"


One second later.


Arden: "Dinner!!!!!" 
Me: "How do you…."

Arden: "Cheese!!! I want cheese!!!"
Me: One more time as I lay into the invisible punching bag in my mind. 

I guess I wanted to listen to the Walt Disney channel on Pandora constantly. I must have wanted to play 52 pick-up 52,000 times a day. I definitely wanted to clean crayon off of plates and pick stickers off the floor/toilet/walls/my feet....

I know what I want. 


I want to be able to make love to my husband in my bed without fear of waking the baby. I mean I want to do things I don't want my inlaws to read about.... I want to sing at the top of my lungs and dance and let go. I wanna look cute, go to the Feve, grab a Guinness and run into the Punch Brothers doing an impromptu performance of Clara. A brilliant song by a ridiculous band that completely transports me. 


We want and we get and then sometimes, we find out there's a lifetime warranty with no return policy. 


The only thing that makes sense is to go back for more. 

To be continued sometime around May 10th or sooner if I'm lucky. And, I'm not.