I'm Baaaack!

So my last post on here was 2010. That is... crazy. Well, and downright lazy. But regardless, here is what I have been up to since I last posted-

First this happened- 

Then 9 month and 14 days later this happened-

                                

And then 1 year 6 months and 9 days later that beautiful, amazing baby girl grew into this beautiful, amazing little girl-

 

And somewhere in between all of that- I started working for my Dad's construction company, HDI Associates, Inc., and he helped me open my very own cabinet design and sales company; Total Kitchen Store by Kelly. 

It's been a very busy 4 years. 

And since I opened that company in 2012, I have grown so much in both skill and passion for what I do. These are some of my recent accomplishments- 

It's hard to believe that I have actually had this blog longer than I've known my husband. And to think that I've neglected you for so long.

My deepest apologies and promises to be better in the future. xoxo

Life on a Budget

So I'm sure that if you're anything like me you receive a lot of hand-me-downs or at least offers for hand-me-downs. I'm a fan of them and I can't seem to ever refuse anything. But, it's a shame when someone gives me a sturdy, beautiful piece of furniture and it's just "not my style". For example, I really don't like light wood. I don't know why. There are times when I see light wood highlight a room and I think it's stunning. But for my home, I simply prefer dark wood; combined with bright whites and vibrant color.

So I decided to do some research. I figured there had to be a way to transform the pieces of furniture I have in my garage into pieces that will nicely suit me and my style. I decided to start with a small project; a little end table that my parents bought years ago from IKEA that has been residing in the corner of my family room. I have various IKEA furniture in my family room and all the other furniture is black.

So this was my first adventure in furniture makeovers; this was my standard light-wood IKEA end table.

I started my project off by sanding the entire thing. This was extra important for me because of the water stains on the top of the table. They were pushing up and making the surface rough and bulgy.

Here is a line up of the products I used. I opted for spray paint over regular paint because I was concerned about streaks and I'm not highly skilled at this yet. I thought it would be an easier material to work with. I also bought two sanding boards; one to remove paint and one to smooth surfaces between coats.

My next step was to prime the whole thing. Lets talk about primer. So I hear you really have a choice; you can either sand something to oblivion and paint or you can prime and then paint. In my case, I like to do both. Why? I don't know. Call it over-kill. I also have a problem whenever I prime anything; I really love white and when I reach this step I always wonder if it's time to stop. But, it's not!

This was my last step (before the next steps this weekend). I spray painted the entire thing black. This was where I was going to stop and then apply the clear coat. But, I started thinking that I should add some designs on the upper side boards. So I'm going to do that this weekend and then I'm going to clear coat the whole thing.

*Please note that the table is still wet here. I opted for a "flat" spray paint so it is much less shiny once it dries.*

So lesson learned; if I can do it, you can do it. My total cost= $18. The newest end table that is similar to mine from IKEA would have cost me $99.99; see HERE.

I love saving money, don't you?

The Perils of Being Female

Since Andrew's mother has been in the hospital the outside of our house has kind of fallen into shambles. I do my best to keep the inside of the house looking respectable. I do this in spite of our animals and the laundry and the endless piles of chewed up who-knows-what that Harry leaves around. Point being, I don't normally handle the outside of the house and I believe the time has come.

I have given myself a chore list for the weekend, oh yes, yes I have. I'm going to even out the gravel in the driveway and I'm going to take down the Halloween decorations. I know! I know, Halloween decorations and it's almost Thanksgiving. I'm a mess!

BUT! my main goal is to start repainting a piece of furniture. What piece of furniture you ask? I haven't decided. But, due to my father's hoarding combined with Andrew's hoarding and the once large space that was my barn I am inundated with old ugly furniture that needs some TLC.

Pictures will be coming soon. Please cross your fingers that I don't break anything, pull anything or in other words... maim myself.

I'm going to call this "Kelly's Independence Day Weekend". Wish me luck!

And on a random note, I found MaryJane's slightly thinner, but in no way as adorable doppleganger.

I'm Back!!!

It's been a while, hasn't it? It seems like ages. I've missed you! Everything in general has been kind of crazy. So where can I begin? My last blog was on April 1, 2010. That was like nine months ago. Jeesh, that's almost the length of pregnancy... the things I could have been doing, haha. BUT, I do have lots of updates. Here we go:

• We took in a foster cat named Macy. Just last month she officially became ours. She is also my most well behaved "child". This is proof that I should not begin parenting anything until it is at least 6 years of age.
  

• Harry turned from the dream puppy into a demon child almost overnight. I don't know what happened. He knows commands, but refuses to listen. He hates cuddling. He'd rather bite your leg off than be petted. But, we're working on it. We still love him. My ripped apart couch and the fact that he's still alive is proof of this.
  

• Andrew and I took a relationship hiatus. I'm not proud of it. I wish it hadn't happened. BUT! I do have to say that we are stronger than ever. We are ready for our future together, we worked out some of our quirks and we appreciate each a helluva lot more. It's good times.
  

• I still have the same job, in my cube, be jealous... I know I am... of EVERYONE! ;-)
  

• On an unfortunate note, we had some family tragedy not too long ago. Andrew's mother was seriously hurt during a robbery. But, she is the strongest woman I've ever met and she is doing fantastically and we feel so blessed that she's here.
  

• As for me, well I'm a still a smart ass. Perhaps I'm a tid bit humbler these days. I think this is a good thing. I'm becoming a better woman every day.
  

  
  So what else did you miss? Well you missed one killer Halloween party. So I'm going to add some pictures to this post. Everyone likes pictures.

Alice in Wonderland theme; Andrew as the Mad Hatter, my BFF Olga as Alice and me, the Red Queen.

This is me and some of my favorite girls. That one all the way on the right? Yea, she's my uber favorite. But genetics has a way of doing that to you. That's my sista.

Me and Crusty. He wanted to be a ghostbuster, but we just couldn't find a costume in his size...

And here's my family; my mama, me, my littler and older sister and my daddy. Haha. :-)

To Have Or Not To Have, THAT Is The Question

I wish I had more readers on my blog so I could gather even more advice on this issue. But since my two most devoted readers, my very good friends Olga and Nic, both have pets that they love I hope to gather some information on the subject.

So my cat, Ms. MaryJane, had been acting pretty bizarre lately. She wasn't cleaning herself, she was being more lax than usual and, in general, she just looked downright uncomfortable.

Then I came home yesterday to find that she had leaked some sort of goo all over my bed and I was instantly hit with a wave of panic; not only for my sheets, but for the girl that I have loved for almost 6 years. Sorry Boyfriend, but she came first.

So of course I called the vet and made an appointment; but it wouldn't be until the following day (that's today in case you were wondering) Then I took her down to the basement and set her up with her bed (as seen HERE) and her litter box and I would have given her a tv, a magazine and a chocolate bar if she would have been into it; because for real you guys! my cat was not feeling well!

In all seriousness though, any animal parent knows that it breaks your heart to see your baby in pain. For me, I hate knowng that she shut off in the basement. So I went down to pet her and love her and give her some cuddling and then BOOM! I started balling my eyes. I mean really! she is the one thing that I have left from my days of independence. She is MY pet. She is MY baby. And I was NOT prepared for anything to be wrong with her.

And my wonderful, wonderful Boyfriend agreed to go with me to the emergency ER at 11:30 at night so that we could make sure that she was ok.

After a 10 minute assessment of her situation by the vet, we came to find that she was massively constipated. And instantly all my thoughts of cancer and tumors and kidney failure and all the bad things melted out of my mind and I started to breath again.

But then we got our estimate and I almost had a heart attack...

$1,300

Followed by a "well we can't be sure, it will probably cost even more depending on the length of her stay".

Whaaaaaat? That is almost as much as my mortgage payment! And believe me, I LOVE my cat. But, eh eh. NO go.

So the salesmen, I mean the vet, at the ER goes on and on about IV fluids and enemas and her 2 day stay (as if it was a spa or something) and yada, yada, DOLLAR SIGNS. That was all I heard.

Then they tell me that we can pay about $500 and they'll give her under the skin fluids and she'll get one enema and then I could pick her up the following morning. Followed by a, "you can take her to vet whenever they open, but if you come back here you'll have to pay another examination fee". Really?!

After talking it over with Andrew we paid our $250 for the visit and the X-rays, thanked the vet and took Ms. Fat Cat home. Because we knew, we just knew, that our vet would never cost that much money.

So today I took her to OUR vet and it turns out that she has a blockage of the colon. Sidnote: I know this is all really gross; please bare with me. Well, my vet tells me that they're going to set her up with IV fluids, sedate her so he can remove the blockage and that she'll be there until Saturday.

Get this; $700.

Am I missing something?

I will never recommend that anyone go to Gywnedd Animal Hospital. I will, however, recommend my vet at Montgomery Animal Hospital.

But thank you Gwynedd for your recommendation that I sign up for a line of credit to pay your exuberant hospital bill. AWESOME.

Well then my vet tells me that he's not happy, actually he's really quite annoyed, because he doesn't feel like they performed Ms. Fat Cat a service at all. The first thing they should have done was shave her bottom to assess the situation. He also tells me that there was absolutely no way the $500 enema would have worked.

Worse yet; he says "the vet would have known that".

For real? I'm getting ripped off by an ER vet?! Are you kidding?

Now I'm wondering if I should sign the pets up for health care coverage because for starters, I don't think Obama's plan well cover my animals (damn). It will cost us about $80 a month for both pets, but it will cover all accidents and regular routine work.

What are your thoughts?

Do you have health care coverage on your pets?

What would you recommend?

Rain, Rain, Go Away

Have you ever seen The Crow?

It was one of my favorite movies during my angsty teenage years; bested only by Bride of Chucky. I guess lovey dovey movies just weren't up my alley.

But more importantly, one of the most famous lines in the movie is: "It can't rain all the time". I try to keep that in mind while I attempt to survive what feels like a permanent state of precipitation around here; check this out.

Short story: I work in a building that is made entirely of glass. It's torturous, really. When it's beautiful out you are forced to stare through the dim glass at the gorgeous day. When it's gross out all you can do is hear the nasty weather encroach on your work space while the entire office exists in a dim realm of fluorescent light.

Today I heard a girl say, "days like this make me glad I don't have a window at my desk".

And all of this rain makes me long for days like this one:

This picture was taken of me and the Boyfriend at two very dear friend of mine's wedding, in August, in 95+ degree weather, while I was trying to survive one of the worst hangovers of my life.

And I'd still rather be there than here.

Random Thoughts of a Distorted Mind

This journey we call life endlessly fascinates me. Most curious to me is how we adapt and grow as we move along on our individual paths. It's amazing to me how many lives we live in our considerably short life spans.

Just imagine, for example, how many people you have met in your life. Then imagine how many of those people you really didn't pay much attention to, how many you just simply adored, how many you actually cared for and how many you took the time to know and love. Also imagine how any minuscule tweak in your life could have altered the states of those relationships entirely.

And the funny part, to me, is that the people and the situations that influence us also change throughout time, for no reason, and at any moment our lives can completely flip upside down without anyone so much as batting an eyelash. A person whom you once considered to be your best friend can easily become a stranger and someone you swore to loathe eternally can very easily become a lifetime friend.

But what leads me to all of this is really far more internal. I've been thinking a lot about my life and all the people I have known and loved and hated and how I've changed and grown along along my own path. I guess to summarize my point; a person who met me 5 years ago and a person who met me now would know two similar, but very different people. Isn't that utterly bizarre?

Our priorities and our meaning change just like the seasons. So when I consider my journey and I pinpoint the people that align with each particular phase of my life, I can't help but smile knowing the vast array of people who have come and maybe gone out of my life, but who, no matter how small or insignificant have all permanently left little imprints on the woman I have become.

It's awe-inspiring. Really.

I have also taken note of the fact that I haven't posted a recipe in quite some time. The Boyfriend and I have limited ourselves to mostly barbecuing (his mom bought us a shiny, new grill) or, for my part, concocting new omelettes. I figured I'd share our latest favorite.

Buffalo Chicken Omelette

Ingredients: (serving size: 2)

2 Tablespoons Butter

4 Eggs

Salt (to taste)

Pepper (to taste)

2 slices of Cheese (I like Provolone, the Boyfriend prefers Swiss)

1 Small Can Chicken (similar to tuna, but NOT)

1 Small Can Sliced Mushrooms

Mayonnaise (to taste)

Frank's Redhot Sauce (to taste)

Ken's Chunky Blue Cheese Dressing (to taste)

You Will Need:

One Small-Medium Size Frying Pan

2 Medium Size Bowl

Whisk

A Fabulous Spatula

1.) In a Medium Size Bowl, whisk together the Eggs, Salt and Pepper.

2.) In the other Medium Size Bowl, combine the Chicken with the Mayonnaise.

3.) Heat one tablespoon butter in the Frying Pan over Medium-Low Heat. (on my stove I heat it to 4 on a scale of 4-6)

4.) Pour a half of the Egg Mixture into the frying pan and place the slice of Cheese on the right half. Let it cook for about 2 minutes, making sure that the top remains a bit eggy.

5.) After the 2 minutes, begin to add the filling ingredients in the following order: the Mayo Chicken, Mushrooms (to preference), Redhot Sauce (to preference), and last, but not least, the Blue Cheese Dressing. (as shown below)

6.) Carefully flip the left side over so it will be on top of the right side. Allow to simmer for about 2 more minutes or until no egg is running out of the edges.

7.) Flip the omelette over and cook the other side for an additional two minutes.

8.) Enjoy! And remember, a messy omelette is a delicious omelette.

I Knew I Said I Wouldn't Go There, But I Lied

In the early eighties, my father was in the middle of amping up his construction company. At the time, cash flow was good but some things, like insurance, just kind of fell to the wayside. When money is tight and you're self-employed, the last thing you can afford to do is pay for consistent healthcare coverage.

Circa 26 years ago, before we all started eating whole grain everything, before we all started popping vitamins as if our species is just not capable of surviving without them, and before people started preoccupying themselves with becoming centenarians, health insurance was considered a "just in case" plan.

Food, shelter, those kinds of things, WELL, they just seemed more important.

So of course, as dictated by Murphy's Law, my Mama got pregnant with me during a time when they didn't have healthcare coverage. Luckily for my Dad, he was making money and he knew that paying out of pocket for the duration of the pregnancy was his only option.

To this day my Dad calls me the "most expensive baby".

How much was the total of all the checkups, the ultrasounds, the birth, etc? about $10,000.

That was in 1983.

And my Mom didn't even get anesthesia.

How much would that cost today?

Somewhere between $9,000, with no complications and no anesthesia, to $17,000. A birth WITH complications, whoa boy, we're talking a possible total cost of $25,000 (if not more). And if you even think about having twins, you are f*cked. Just walk your tired, prego feet straight from the hospital down to bankruptcy court.

And bless anyone who has a child with health issues. I can not even begin to fathom.

Does childbirth come with a low interest payment plan?

So where is this all coming from? Well, I've told you before I read a lot, and I do, I read A LOT:

Read this.

I'm not going to weigh in on my views regarding the Obama plan, BUT, from a rational point of view... I think it would be ideal if we could readjust people to have realisitic views on healthcare coverage. We don't all need to live to be 120, people. But! we ALL deserve to live a healthy life while we're here and without fear that living that life will drain us of our finances.

That's all I have to say.

OK, now that I've gone on my tirade, let's talk about something else. Like for example, how cute our puppy is:

Or how funny it is that Harry's only real goal in life at the moment is to make MJ his friend.

And the fact that she wants absolutely nothing to do with him.

Remember this MJ?

And you thought me dressing you up was as bad as it could get...

...then we brought HIM home.

Talk About A Stalemate

What happens when you put a working class, liberal minded, peace loving "hippie" under the same roof as a privileged, upper-middle class, self-declared "hillbilly"?

I'm not entirely sure, but you are welcome to stop by my house anytime to find out.

The Boyfriend and I have strategically avoided the words "health", "care" and any combination of the two ever since Obama became president. We didn't even discuss the election. Whoa-ho, no way! When we do dare to discuss "politics", we practically end up on the ground, pulling each others hair out and yelling, "nu uh, YOU'RE wrong". It's not a pretty scene.

But last night, oh ho, last night, we made the hideous mistake of talking about health care. And to premise this, I will tell you that I avoid talking about politics completely. I handle politics like a chameleon; the topic comes up and I do my best to blend into the background so no one preys on me. Why you ask? It's not that I'm weak minded, it's not that I don't have opinions, it's simply that I don't care to ARGUE my opinions to others.

"To each their own".

Now the Boyfriend on the other hand, oh!, he LOVES to argue. He's incredibly head strong and he loves to try and prove people wrong. He'll never admit it, but I catch him making up "facts" sometimes just so he can try to validate his arguments. The humorous part of this is that he's never actually trying to convince anyone to agree with him, no no, he'd much rather just yell that his point of view is right.

You could even say, "I totally agree with you", and he'd still be saying, "You don't even understand what I'm saying..."

Thereby, our arguments normally last about 5 minutes. He argues, I back down, he keeps arguing, I end the argument by proving that his "fact" is wrong. He hates that. Right after that, our fight enters a total stalemate.

I don't like to argue, but when I'm challenged I don't back down, not for anything. Not even chocolate... or coffee...

Point being; I spent last evening in the family room with the old TV, a glass of wine and the fat cat. He spent the evening in the living room with "his" flat screen and our new puppy. Talk about a division of the sexes.

In summation, I have no urge to continue this argument with the Boyfriend and I recognize that neither of us will ever apologize for it, BUT if me, Harry, or MJ are subjected to listening to Fox news any longer the three of us will be moving to the barn.

Did you hear that Andrew?

Weekly Bulletin

The weather this past weekend was absolutely gorgeous. We barbecued on our deck for two days straight. I drank beer, watched the Boyfriend use the new grill, played ladder ball and simply enjoyed the happiness that comes from smelling a flower for the first time after months of living underneath the ice.

This Is Bliss

Everything worked out! The puppy home inspection went well and Harry is "ours". He's also the most well behaved puppy you have or will ever meet. He abides by commands, he loves to cuddle and he barely ever barks. It's a phenomenon.

He also has ring worm at the moment. So check back in 5-10 days.

And the Boyfriend, who was all "I don't want to a dog!" and "I'm not walking it", has completely fallen for our little man. In fact, the Boyfriend spent Harry's first night at home on the couch so he could be there in case Harry "got upset". Let me tell you- the two of them spend all their time together now; from their mornings on the couch watching Fox news (yuck) to their long walks on the beach holding hands... ok wait, where am I going with this?

Point being: the Boyfriend adores Harry. They are like two peas in a little pod. But alas, neither of them like to have their picture taken. So I'm going to have to be uber sneaky to catch a shot of them for this here website.

In the meantime, here is the cutest f*n picture ever of my niece playing with "our" Harry.

This picture makes me want to have babies.

So does this picture, but that's an entirely different blog entry all together.

Falling Apart

Two days ago I was stamping some contracts at work. And just in case you're wondering, no, that is not the only thing I do at work. Alas, I realized that my right thumb was aching and every once in a while this shooting pain would zing up my arm and I'd be rendered immobile for about 3 seconds. Damn me for not being left handed.

Yesterday it got much worse. It was throbbing. It felt like there was a stream of fire running from my thumb to my elbow and as much as I massaged it or held it or prayed to Venus, nothing seemed to work. So someone tells me that it sounds like I have "carpal tunnel" to which I respond, "isn't that for old people?" to which they respond, "I have carpal tunnel" to which I then felt like a dumbass.

Plus I realized that I'm not that young anymore and that TOTALLY sucked.

So me being my hypochondriacal self, I decided to book an appointment with the family doc, for that night, because for real... I may have been having a stroke... you never know! Thereby, the Boyfriend and I decide to make an adventure out of it. The weather here has been beautiful so we went to one of our favorite, more pricey restaurants and I melted into my tuna burger and a glass of Riesling.

When it came time for my doctor visit I made the Boyfriend go in with me. If I was having a stroke I needed support. My doctor also finds me pretty amusing. I don't think that is a good sign. So she messes with my hand a bit and goes, "I know what this is". And then we go through the whole "does this hurt?"", "does it hurt when I do this?".

But here's the issue, it didn't hurt. So I confess, I say "I drank a glass of wine with dinner! Do you think that would make it not hurt?!?"

She laughs again. Hmm.

Then she puts her pen on her desk and looks at me and goes, "You have tendinitis of the thumb". I'm like "whaaaat?". Then she explains that most people get it from, get this, texting! I knew it! I knew texting was a horrible, horrible advance in technology. I held out on doing it for sooo long. Then that new phone just lulled me into a false sense of security with it's fancy keyboard and BOOM! I have tendinitis.

I am thinking...

What am I thinking?

I'm thinking I am 26 and I have tendinitis... of the thumb.

I also get to wear a sexy thumb brace. Google that. Be jealous.

Dirty Harry

I haven't wanted to write too much about the puppy adoption process we're going through right now. Mostly because at any moment they can decide not to give him to me. It's a pride issue really. I'll cry, you'll feel bad, I'll hate that you'll know I'm crying...

However, I can't avoid writing about it any longer because I received an email today from the foster mom of the puppy we're hoping to adopt and I can not, for the life of me, think about anything else.

We had originally gone to the Meet and Greet to see a puppy named Dick; as you saw here. But we ended up falling for his brother, Harry. Talk about scandalous! I'll write the whole story of how our love affair began when/if it's official.

So this weekend we have our home inspection. Harry's foster mom told me that if the home inspection goes well he'll be "ours" right afterwards. Well she said "yours". Then my heart melted right out of my chest. I'll have to pick the remnants up off the floor when I'm done writing this.

Please allow me to introduce you to Harry:

I'm in love.

It's Not Easy Being Irish

Happy St. Patrick's Day from our house to yours.

"It's time to get our drink on, yo"

MaryJane likes to get a head start on those lightweights.

And remember,

"liquor before beer, you're in the clear, beer before liquor, never been sicker"

What Happens When It Rains

When the Boyfriend and I bought our very large house we knew that the reason we were getting it for such a steal was because of the flooding issues. I also have to say that, so far, we've really lucked out; our basement has not yet become the indoor pool that we were expecting.

But the floats are waiting, oh, they're waiting.

And hell, in the event that our basement DOES turn into a swim zone, I'm going to go out and buy some of those little umbrellas for the cocktails that I will create just for the occasion... and you will all be invited.

We had a close call this weekend, but the power stayed on and we trooped through it. This is what we woke up to on Saturday morning:

See that tree that is bending dangerously to the right? That is where the creek line is. That is is the line you normally have to walk to just to see the water.

See that lake to the right? That's normally a grassy field. I'm thinking... lakeside property, baby!

But these branches? Now THAT is just a nuisance.

I Win This One, Mr. Magoo

There are a few things you should know about me:

• I recently bought a house
• My house has 1.6 acres
• I have 4 bedrooms and no children
• I want a dog

I finally convinced the Boyfriend to go on a Meet and Greet with me tomorrow for a local rescue/adoption agency and we're going to meet this guy:

My favorite part about him is that when I show my co-workers the adoption agency website and they peruse through the list of animals they always say, "which animal do you like?" and I have no choice but to say, "I like Dick".

It's like he already has a very special place in my heart.

Plus his brothers are named Tom and Harry. Get it. Tom, Dick and Harry. They also have a brother named Johnny. He must feel left out.

Maybe I'll adopt him too.

But aside from all of this, I just want you to know that I strongly support adopting rescue animals, especially with the current economic issues and the amount of animals that are being left behind in the wake. I will keep you posted on the final outcome.

Weekly Bulletin

P.S. Corey Haim? Dead? What? Gah. I loved you once, Lucas. xoxo

Lessons In Parenting

My very overworked, wonderful, super mom of a sister gave me two of the greatest things a girl could ask for; two extremely adorable nieces. Perhaps it's the fact that my sister is 7 years older than me (ok, ok, 6 and a half) or perhaps it's simply because she was blessed with better nerves than me, but no matter what happens to her my sister is continually patient.

*Sometimes the differences between our personalities make me wonder if she wasn't lying all these years and I really AM the milk man's baby.*

Because my sister is overworked and overtired I attempt to help as best I can when she actually asks for help. This past Saturday was one of those I'm-Pulling-The-Sister-Card-On-Your-Ass-Kelly kind of days. So there I was at 10am, slightly hungover and going to dance class. But before I tell you this story, I want you to know that there is a special place in heaven/earth/kharma for Moms.

My oldest niece, Princess Superior, who you learned about here, is 3 and a half years old now. She is also the cutest punk you will ever meet in your life and when I say punk think Ashton Kutcher punk'd because for real... the girl is the queen of punking folks into thinking that she's helpless when she isn't;

"No, Aunt Kelly I don't know how to take my shoes off"

"Can you carry my bag? My dress is in the way"

"Just one more cookie... I don't think Mommy will mind"

All the while she's smirking at me and I know she's won and there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.

Now as if making it to dance class in the first place wasn't hard enough, the rest of the morning just got much worse. Princess Superior was in class and there I was thinking "wa hoo! break time!". How hard could it be to take care of one of my nieces for an hour?

In retrospect, I would like to say "DUH" to myself.

In my defense, no one told me that my younger niece went from sitting still and making cute faces to "hel-Lo I'm a wiggle worm, aren't I cute?". I chalk this up to parenting ignorance. So there I was; no stroller, no baby bjorn, nothing but my arms. Envision this. I sincerely believe this is my sister's form of providing me with birth control.

I mean don't get me wrong; it all started off nice. We sat outside the grocery store. That is, of course, until a hord of teenage smokers arrived. We went to Marshall's. That is, of course, until a man decided to hit on me with a BABY in my arms. I won't even go there. We went to Saladworks, my favorite place on earth, to purchase my must have buffalo chicken salad and then womp womp this is where the story starts to go downhill because I realized ah shit, I gotta pee.

So where do you put a baby down when you have no other hands available? The only regretable, nasty option of course; the bathroom floor. I was trying so hard to make sure she didn't put any nasty floor litter in her mouth that I didn't realize I was basically peeing all over myself. When I was done I washed my hands, her hands, her cheeks, whatever I could reach and she's thinking "yea-ya there's a baby pool in here and no one told me?"

There was soap and water EVERYWHERE.

I will just leave it up to your imagination as to the kind of state that I was in when I left Saladworks. Think frazzled.

Princess Superior came rushing out of dance class not much later and she was so excited and so innocent to the fact that I had pee on my pants that she flings her bag at me. I'm trying to put her shoes on and I'm hoping that no one smells my piss covered self so I'm trying to keep my butt against the wall and out of nose reach from unknowing parents. I really just wanted to yell "I swear I'm not homeless" or "I normally smell good, really"... all the while wishing I had showered that morning.

We were the last ones out of the lobby and I thought I was home safe despite my arms being full of babies and bags and cute tiny hands when BOOM! my salad fell out of my hand and crash landed right in the parking lot.

Have I told you how much I love Saladworks? Just checking.

In the end, we all made it home safe despite me storming through my sister's door to declare, "I am NEVER having children." I know that I'm lying, I know that I want to have children, I mean c'mon they are so freakin cute. Who cares about a spilled salad? Who cares that I was starving? Who cares that it cost me $10?

At the end of the day, I guess those little faces are worth the sacrifice.

Note To Self

Do not attempt to put six Jujyfruits in your mouth at once. Those yummy, orange, sticky, delicious candies may seem too tempting to only have just one, but the aftershock of almost choking yourself will surely make you change your mind about trying to see how many Jujyfruits you can fit inside your mouth.

I apparently have a much smaller mouth than I originally predicted.

Also, does ANYONE actually eat things that taste like black licorice? I need to know. I took note today of the fact that Jujyfruit boxes STILL contain black licorice flavored candies and I must know what the logic behind this is.

For starters, licorice is a legume... which is similar to a pea... which is NOT a fruit, Jujyfruit.

Secondly, black licorice tastes absolutely ghastly; much like cough syrup that doesn't have the benefit of hiding behind the words "cherry" or "lemon".

I would truly love to meet someone who really digs this black licorice stuff. There must be something I'm missing.

*Please note that in the above picture, not taken by me, the photographer has opted to omit the black ones, is this proof of a general distaste?*

I Like Nuts, Specifically Cashews

Every once in a while I allow myself to splurge on unnecessary trinkets. The picture below displays my latest purchase. Thank you Victorian Trading Company. I adore my overpriced hair band. It was worth every penny and will remain so as long as fat cat, who has the annoying habit of stealing my jewelry, doesn't get it between her filthy thieving paws. *I'm onto you MJ*

Do you want one? Here you go: http://www.victoriantradingco.com/store/catalogimages/1a/i16867.html