The Sad Trombone O' Bad News

Unfortunately, you'll just have to imagine the sound of the "sad trombone o' bad news" as I cannot upload an audio file on this damn blog.

It goes something like this....wah wah wah WWWWAAAAAHHHHH

And works well to punctuate any sort of disappointing or bad news.

Quite The Storyteller

With a lot of enthusiasm, Avery told me the following story this morning:

"And then the cow? it came into the house and it pushed the baby. And I said, 'naughty cow. you say you're sorry' and then I made him get out of the house. It was nighttime and the moon was out."

I Don't Want To Get For One Minute Of This

When looking at pictures of herself, Avery says, "She wanna talk" -- because we have shown her a few video clips of herself where she IS talking. So, she thinks that all pictures "wanna talk."

Also, she uses the word "forget" a lot, but transposes the syllables so that she says, "I'm going to work, but I get for my keys" or "I get for my purse."

I get for what life was like before we shared it with this little person who makes everything so much fun.

Extreme Close Up

From my company's work party this weekend. We had a great time. (You know -- me, my husband, and my lesbian lover.)

Literally Squealing With Delight

My co-workers, Adam and Carmen, gave us this TMX Elmo, which we gave Avery on Christmas morning this year. It was a hit.

Looks Like We Made It

Holy Shit! Amanda and I did our 10-mile run this morning at our training pace of 10:20/mile. And...we were able to maintain a conversation on all but the hilly parts of the course.

I still cannot process that we were running for almost an hour and forty-five minutes...what I CAN process is that we are rock stars!

A hot shower, some Ben Gay, a couple of Motrin and a nap later -- I'm actually feeling okay. (Although I may claim delirium when mocked about the Barry Manilow headline for this post.)

Age Of Aquarius

Fun weekend o' celebration for my birthday:

Saturday morning: A rip-roarin' good time to be had with a 10-mile training run (yes, that's TEN MILES). Holy crap.

Saturday evening: My company's 20th anniversary party. They are hiring a band called "Fever - The Wrath of Polyester". I visited the band's web site and found another band there -- called "Nik and the Nice Guys" (guess all work for the same booking company). Anyway, Tim's friend from high school plays in Nik and the Nice Guys up in New York City. I e-mailed him yesterday and he knew the "Fever" band well. Small, small cheesy band world.

Sunday afternoon: Pole and chair dancing class with the Vegas crew. This should feel fantastic after the 10-mile run and dancing the day before. Counting on this to be sufficiently ridiculous.

Sunday evening: Dinner out with my Canetto and my Pants.

Monday: Ben Gay and Geritol

How Not To Look Old

Thanks to my upcoming birthday (THREE SHOPPING DAYS LEFT!), I just ordered a book called "How Not To Look Old." This supposedly provides a bunch of fashion, makeup and hair tips that will fool people into thinking I'm barley legal. (Tip #1: get rhinestone-encrusted cell phone, pepper every conversation with the word "like," and hang out at the mall with my friends.)

I'm sure that when I receive this and have a chance to read it, there will be much to discuss about it on this blog. When I'm not shopping at "Forever 21", that is.

For The Love Of God...Don't Say "Hold The Anchovies" In Front Of Her

You know how cute it is when a little kid picks up a doll and pretends she's the mommy? I'm sure you do, but I'm just making conversation. My kid picks up a tiny piece of wooden pepperoni from a play pizza and pretends she's the mommy to that.

She will swaddle the pepperoni (that she cleverly calls "Baby Pepperoni"), in a blanket, sing to it and then tuck it into bed. Then, when she believes that Baby Pepperoni is not ready to sleep, she'll pick it back up and rock it gently.

It's not like we're living in the Depression and she has to pretend that sticks are toys. She has three perfectly acceptable dolls sitting against the wall in the playroom...ignored until she decides that they must be completely naked.

Demanda

I've been trying to compose a blog post about Amanda for a while, because it would be hilarious, as she is hilarious. (And I'm not just saying that because you make up 1/3 of my audience, Amanda.)

I think the best way to do it would be to simply pull lines from e-mails she has sent me through the years that I have saved because they make me laugh out loud...so I'm working on that now.

In the meantime, dear (3) readers, I leave you with this:

Last year, Amanda and I were running a race and came to a water stop. There was a young kid at the water stop holding two cups of water, so Amanda grabbed for one -- and the kid resisted. Amanda said, "Come on, I need some water!" and wondered why the kid volunteering at the water stop was not relinquishing the cups of water he was supposed to be giving out. The kid looked a little startled, but did give Amanda one of the cups of water. It was not for a couple of seconds that she and I realized the kid was not a volunteer for the race, but actually a participant, and was getting water for himself and his mom. We both started laughing so hard that we couldn't run for a couple of minutes. Amanda probably scared him away from running races for the rest of his life.

Career Woman

The audio that goes with this image: "Goodbye, I'm going to work now. Have a good Monday. See you later. I need my purse and my money."

Frankly, after a little more than two years of her freeloading, we're pretty jazzed that she's getting off her ass and getting a job.

And Wash Your Hands Afterward

I'm proofreading some database content that our company has developed for the FDA.

Moments ago, I came across the phrase "restrict super sack handling," which I immediately cut and pasted into an e-mail and sent to the person that developed the database with a "tee hee" underneath.

We're a very mature office.

And Right There, Behind The Juniper Bush? That's Chester

Should I find it hilarious or terrifying that one of the (ridiculously high-priced with a huge waiting list of potential students) pre-schools we're looking into for Avery has an area on the school property called the "Touching Garden"?

Gentlemen Prefer GILFs

When she was younger, my mom looked a lot like Marilyn Monroe. So much so that people would stop her in public places and tell her that she should sleep with Kennedys and avoid prescription medication. I kid, they only suggested that she make out with Kennedys and avoid overdosing on prescription medication. Actually, they'd tell her she looked like Marilyn. My family members would often find pictures of Marilyn that looked most like Krennie and give them to her as gifts. Because of this, my mom is a huge Marilyn Monroe fan. She buys herself a calendar every year featuring Norma Jean.

At Christmas time we were at Krennie's house, and she had her 2007 calendar up on the wall. The December picture featured a very Krennie-looking picture of Marilyn in a red sweater. Krennie also happened to be wearing a red sweater that day. As if I had prompted her, my little Pants pointed up at the picture and said, "Mommy -- pick me up so I can see Grandma".

Kids have no filter and say exactly what they think, so it's kind of an understatement to say that this made Krennie's day. As a matter of fact, she said that she was going to her lawyer that day to have her will changed so Avery would inheirit 100% of her estate.

Nothing Says Christ Is Risen Like Men Dressed As Women

A few years ago, my mom came up to visit for Easter weekend. And because we're heathens, we planned many spiritual, reverent activities with which to celebrate the resurrection of our Lord. Namely, karaoke and drag brunch.

I was looking for a karaoke place that had the individual rooms because the shy person in me emerges when it comes to singing in front of a room full of people. I found just what we wanted at a strip mall in Annandale. The place was hilarious -- it was a storefront that was a Korean coffee shop in front. We went in and were led down a dark hallway that was lined with individual karaoke rooms. We went into one and it was awesome! It had it's own little 3'x3' underlit disco floor, a mirrored wall, a bench, a TV and a microphone.

A waitress came to take our order, my mom ordered a chardonnay, I ordered a Sam Adams and Tim ordered a bourbon and coke. The waitress came back with three Miller Lites in cans and a small styrofoam plate with about eight pretzels on it.

We sang many, many songs (we made Krennie sing "Blue Bayou" just so she'd have to try and hit that impossibly high note), but the highlight had to be Canetto's rendition of "Bohemian Rhapsody." Of course I love this man, he's my husband. But I don't think I ever felt that love so deeply as I did when watching him sing, "Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the fandango?"

And The Benefits Are Good, Too

For my company's 20th anniversary, we're having a big bash at the end of the month. One of the company owners commissioned a videotape to chronicle the history of the company and get comments from all of the employees about what they like most about working for CSS. My friend, Terri, and I were filmed together...and this is what we had to say:

Terri: What if there isn’t anything I like about working at CSS?
Kathleen: C’mon Terri…there are things you like….Naked Tuesdays?
Terri: That's true. There's also the refreshing cocktail breaks every day at 3:30
Kathleen: ...and the liberal dress code policy (Kathleen points to Terri's short skirt)
Terri: Yeah, and the optional deliverables
Kathleen: Those are optional? Wow. I LOVE working at CSS.
Terri: (to the camera crew) Guys…can we wrap this up? It’s almost 3:30

Such An Attention Whore

Okay, so Shreve's band was supposed to play again on Saturday night.
This morning, I e-mailed and asked him how it went. He replied, "Didn't do it. I was here.
It made for a very scary Saturday morning trying to get the kids and old folks out."
http://www.nbc4.com/news/15035392/detail.html?subid=10101441
Yikes. He and his family are okay, thankfully.

I've Oft Wondered What It Really Is All About

Avery is the most rabid fan, ever, of the Hokey Pokey.
She figured where in the pre-programmed song rotation on her keyboard this song is, and immediately goes there whenever she turns the thing on. Also, her teachers at school say they have never seen a kid respond to that song the way she does. (She apparently will jump up out of her seat or run across the room and stop whatever she is doing and scream, "MY song" and start dancing whenever she hears them play it in the classroom.)
Best part? She calls it the "okey dokey."

Truth? I Was Just The Donor Egg

Such a happy little family.

Cockey during his visit to NoVa this Christmas. He brought me a gorgeous necklace that the woman he is dating designed (thanks again, Christina -- I love it!)

When I told Avery he'd be visiting she said, "I don't wanna see Jeff Cockey." However, by the end of the evening, she was a fan (much like all women under the age of 21).

The Great Defuser

Canetto has a way of making me laugh sometimes when I am furious with him.

Once, he was pulled over for speeding on the highway (after I had mentioned a couple of times that he might want to consider slowing down). As the cop was walking toward the car, Canetto sang in a falsetto sing-song-y voice, "Canetto is a lead foot." I burst into laughter. The cop is probably wondering why we were in such good spirits when he was about to issue such a hefty ticket.

Another time, we were having dinner with Tim's parents. Sometimes when we're with them, his table manners seem to regress to where they were when he was eight years old. This evening was a case in point. He was eating his salad...but pretty much picking up lettuce leaves and placing them on his fork, and then bringing the fork to his mouth. I was appalled, because he normally has very nice etiquette. I watched this for a few mouthfuls then said, agitatedly, "REALLY?" and he said, "I love my salad. So much that I must touch it." He's hilarious, that one.

Pho Tho Op

On Monday night, I figured I'd get some pho to make me feel better. The stuff seems to have some magic, medicinal qualities.
So, I got a recommendation to go to a place called "Pho Today" in Fairfax. It was on my way home, so I thought I'd try it.
I found it and went in, and immediately, a Vietnamese woman ran up to me and gave me a big hug. I was thinking, "Wow. What friendly service." Turns out, it was my friend, Tho, that I met when we worked together at the Government Center. Her cousin owns the restaurant and she was there having dinner with a big group of family members.
It's a small world. But I wouldn't want to paint it.

And It Was On-Time Delivery, Too

Tonight, Canetto and I just kinda collapsed at the house after work. As always, even after the most draining week, Avery has a way of making everything better, just by being Avery. She wanted to dance -- so we danced. Then we played letters, and then she put a purse over her shoulder and announced that "she was going to work to work on the computer."

We were both watching her, amused. Then Tim motioned for me to come and sit next to him on the steps where he was sitting, so we could marvel together at this perfect little creature. I sat down and put my arm around him. Avery walked over, hugged us both and said, "I love you guys."

Seriously. I don't remember putting in an order for the most wonderful child on the planet. Someone in shipping must have been in a good mood and gave us a free upgrade.

Hell Week

This week has been one of the more challenging weeks in recent memory.

Every single thing in every aspect of our lives is causing some sort of stress and requiring time and energy to deal with. And, because of this, we are not sleeping, eating or exercising with any regularity, which just compounds the issues.

Oh...and I was so sick on Tuesday that I could not get out of bed all day, and have been staving off more sickness ever since.

Good times.

The Unfairness Of It All

We've been talking up Disneyworld to Avery lately. Both to get her excited for the trip next month and also to have some sort of leverage to try and stop the increasingly frequent and annoying whining tantrums. (Ugh. Why? If I wasn't already a drinker...this would make me become one.)

Last night was one for the record books. I don't even remember what started it, but she went into full meltdown mode. Tim and I retreated to the family room and let her work through her meltdown upstairs. When she realized that she did not have our attention, she pulled out all stops -- this is what we heard:

"DO. NOT. GO. SEE. MICKEY. MOUSE. MOMMY. AND. DADDY."

Apparently, our punishment for causing her so much unhappiness was that she would not go on a Disney trip that was planned specifically for her.

Are we bad parents for stifling our laughs with the couch pillows?

Life In Plastic...It's Fantastic

Last night, I pulled out the Barbies I've saved for years. Somewhere along the line, I lost the country camper and also most of Barbie's clothes (probably during Barbie's "fantasy weekend in Vegas").

Anyway, my little Pants seemed to love the whole concept of Barbies. She read a book to one and put her to bed. The other she kept trying to put a hat and coat on as she felt Barbie was cold.

For the record, she has absolutely no use for "Disco Ken" and his orange satin pants and fringed suede-like vest, or my Miss America Barbie, who is a brunette. Little Miss Aryan Nation liked only the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Malibu Barbies.

I hope she's okay when she finds out she's Spanish.

Sicky Sickerson

Sheesh. I got sick Christmas Eve and then was hideously sick on Christmas Day and the day after. Was fortunate enough to get a reprieve for the Vegas trip, but now -- sick again.

I've tried Sudafed, NyQuil, a prescription from my doctor, cough drops, Vicks rub, Airborne, herbal tea, Motrin, and/or a combination of all of these things for the past few weeks. Nothing is working to make me feel better.

Last year (Avery's first year in day care), I spent the better part of the first quarter of the year with some kind of sickness. I'm really hoping there won't be a repeat this year.

From The Mouth Of My Babe

"Me and Daddy saw orangutans at the zoo."

"This is not comfortable."

"This is not tasty (and/or yummy)."

"I'm excited."

Today, I was using rubbing alcohol on a surface before hanging a hook on it, and Avery said, "are you getting a shot?" I had no idea what she was talking about, until I realized that the smell of the alcohol reminded her of getting a shot.

Diversionary Tactics

An actual conversation between Carrie and Kira from our weekend in Las Vegas:

Carrie: "Remember that time we were in Key West on Spring Break and you dumped an entire kahlua and cream on my head?"

Kira: "So, you dated a pedophile"

Swankalicious New Year's Eve

MIX nightclub at THEhotel in Vegas, baby!