My in-laws are coming and I’ve already reserved a spot for myself in the psych ward just in case.

On Monday night my hubby had been home for several hours but decided to tell me right before we went to bed that his parents are coming in mid March.

I’ve been waiting to hear this news, just not right before bed when I’m about to die of exhaustion. It got me worked up and I was up half the night. My in-laws are effing crazy and it would take the patience of Mother Teresa and Gandhi combined to put up with them for more than an hour. You can read in more detail and learn more than you ever wanted to about my in-laws here, here, here, and here. Although this post is one of my favorites.

They were supposed to come out for my daughter’s 2nd BIRTHDAY!! in April but a miracle happened. My husband found out he’s going to be teaching again next quarter and since it starts around the little hummingbird’s 2nd BIRTHDAY!! and his parents need constant attention, we were able to change the date of their visit so my hubby won’t have them breathing down his neck while he prepares for class.

Just a quick review. My father-in-law is very scientific in what he talks about. It’s never anything normal and it’s rare that my in-laws can actually have a casual conversation. During Thanksgiving dinner my FIL went on and on about how to make effing cement. He can easily spend an hour just talking about trees or the mechanics of a freezer, and my in-laws make watching movies a miserable experience.

We saw the movie Up on dvd and I LOVED it. My mother-in-law bitched the whole time. She would go on about how nothing in the movie is realistic it’s an effing cartoon, how a house couldn’t really float off with several balloons attached to it, and she would always say “Oh, please! That couldn’t really happen!” throughout the movie. She would try to get into debates with my husband about how these things could be changed so it would be more realistic. I wanted to pelt her in the face with my m&m’s and suffocate her with the bag so she would shut it!

But then I wouldn’t have known how the movie ended because of the whole homicide thing.

When it comes to my mother-in-law (who has over 100 turtles; they are her life), she seems to enjoy making me mental. I know that she had a bad relationship with her mother-in-law and would be told things just to hurt her feelings but then she turns around and treats me the same way while she thinks I’m lucky to have her as a mother-in-law. Bwahahahaha. And yes, she really has told me that I got off easy because she’s such a great MIL.

She’s really passive-aggressive with me and her claws come out as soon as my husband turns his back. She treats my husband like he pisses gold but she treats me like I’m something she stepped in. I understand he’s her son but when it comes to my mom, she treats us both with love.

On one of my in-laws more recent visits, the time had come for us to say our goodbye’s and I was almost ready to give myself a pat on the back for surviving the visit. My husband was a few feet away talking to his dad. My MIL gave me a hug and then told me she had something for me. I instantly felt like such a bitch for thinking she’s an awful woman.

She reached in her purse and then handed me a picture of my husband and I from several years ago, back when I was just 21 and pre-hummingbird. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. I felt like she might be up to something but gave her another hug and thanked her.

Then she said she wanted to give me this picture to remind me of how I used to look so maybe now I’ll think about losing some weight.

I have 16 days to sharpen my shank…….

*I’m dedicating this to @mcai7td3 and @Brokeback_Cat who are awesome to follow on Twitter but unfortunately they don’t have blogs.  *sad face*

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Writing, Ruffalo, and a crazy woman talking to herself. That woman isn’t me…yes it is…no it isn’t.

I haven’t been posting as much as I used to but I hope to get back to it very soon. I’m currently writing a post about wanting to strangle my husband. I smell some kind of writing award with that one. heh. The little hummingbird has been on strike when it comes to going to bed and taking naps and those are the times when I get the chance to write.

She was doing so well when going to bed but like everything else that goes along with mommyhood, as soon as my husband and I got used to it, she decided to switch it up. Now it’s such a battle and sometimes she won’t settle down until 9:30 pm. By that time, I’m exhausted and just want to crawl in bed with my Kindle and read.

I’ve also been having migraine after migraine for the past 3 weeks and that has put a huge damper on my blog. I have so many things I want to write about so I’m just itching to get back to posting more often. After nearly 2 years, I’m finally starting to get into the swing of things and managing my time better when it comes to my sweet little dictator daughter and I hope that helps in finding the time to write.


If you’ve been reading my blog you know I totally lust after Mark Ruffalo and while I wasn’t really surprised that he didn’t win an Oscar last night, I was kinda bummed *snort* because damn, what a hottie. Oh, and I think he’s a great actor too blah blah blah. Last fall, around daylight savings time, I was going a little batty because it really threw off my daughter’s schedule so I got very little sleep while she adjusted and I wrote an ode to Mr. Ruffalo here.


Yesterday we went for a quick trip to CVS so I could stock up on some Oscar essentials like Red Vines and while we were checking out, there was a lady behind us having a conversation on her cell and talking really loud. People like that drive me crazy and the first time I looked back at her, under the guise that I was talking to my daughter, I noticed she didn’t have a cell phone.

Then I looked back again, while using my baby girl so it wouldn’t be obvious that I was staring at this lady, thinking she must have a blue tooth. Nope. I looked back a few more times only I pretended to be really fascinated by the Easter candy display. Like I really have to pretend. Bring on the Cadbury creme eggs! There wasn’t a cell phone or a blue tooth in sight. This lady was having a conversation with herself.

I nudged my husband, who was holding the little hummingbird, forward because hello, crazy woman talking to herself is right behind us. Even the cashier started to nervously laugh. After we got our bag I tried to get my hubby to speed it up but he wanted to hang near the entrance and point the birds out to our little girl. I was like “seriously, we just need to go”. He asked why. My reply, say it with me now, there’s a crazy woman talking to herself!

Then I told him I don’t want to be around if she starts going crazy in the parking lot. He thought that would be cool (believe it or not, this isn’t why I want to strangle him) but I said I don’t want her anywhere near the little hummingbird. I wish I could remember what the crazy woman was talking about.

What she was saying actually made some sense and it wasn’t as bad as when I lived in Seattle and would deal with the crazies on the back of the bus who would talk about things like potato salad. There was a certain someone who came to visit me and I told this certain someone “Whatever you do, don’t talk to the people on the back of the bus” but that certain someone wouldn’t listen and had a long and VERY memorable conversation about how to make potato salad with a guy that was certifiable. I’m so looking at you right now mom!

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A glimpse into my mind. The Antonio edition.

Setting: It was Friday night and I was having a migraine so I was laying…lying?…you know what I mean, in bed flipping through the channels. I came across an Antonio Banderas movie that was so bad it was….bad. And go!

Damn, I’ve forgotten how hot he was. What year is this? 1995. That was the year my hubby and I got married. I remember how he could never pronounce Banderas right and would say Ban-der-ass. Okay, this movie is getting worse by the minute. I think the producers thought it would be some awesome Fatal Attraction type movie but it’s just laughable.

I can’t even keep a straight face during this sex scene. Oh, Antonio’s butt! Wow, now that’s just an awkward position. I’m having second hand embarrassment. But damn, Antonio sure was hot. Shower scene with Antonio. Uh! This guy has the hairiest armpits I’ve ever seen.

That reminds me when my sister came to visit me several years ago. My hubby was deployed and I had let things go wild….down there. When my sister saw my bikini line while I was getting dressed, she laughed and laughed and laughed.

A few days later we were watching Saturday Night Live. Someone was doing a spoof of Antonio in a speedo and he had bushels of hair coming out of that thing. My sister nicknamed me Antonio for the rest of her stay.

We went to see a movie about a week later. What movie was it? Thinking….thinking. I guess it was either American Pie or The Blair Witch Project. When the movie previews came on, Antonio appeared in one of them and my sister and I took one look at each other and were in hysterics.

Not only that, it was for a serious movie so the people around us were giving us the side eye. They probably thought we were high. Throughout the movie we would nudge each other and start laughing again.

What in the world is my hubby doing downstairs? I thought he would be up here by now.

Me: *goes downstairs* You are missing out on a really bad movie.

Him: Why are you watching it then?

Me: Because it’s so bad that it’s funny. It has Antonio Ban-der-ass in it. You know, when I think about it I don’t think he’s ever been in a good movie (with the exception of Philadelphia).

Him: *thinking* Wasn’t he in that cool movie where the guy had a gun is his banjo case?

Me: *thinking* Oh yeah. It was Desperado but it was a guitar case not a banjo case. I don’t think that would be as cool.

Him: Banjo’s can be cool.

Me: You really think that movie would’ve been just as cool if Antonio Ban-der-ass was walking around killing people with a gun in a banjo case?

Him: Okay, maybe not.

Me: You really should come upstairs. This movie is craptacular. *goes back upstairs*

Him: *calls out* Does it have a banjo?

Me: *calls back* Haha, you’re so funny.

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Sex and Insecurity.

*I would like to thank Melissa from Rock And Drool for giving me the opportunity to write this post on her relationship and intimacy site You Won’t Go Blind.

My husband and I used to have a great sex life. He joined the Navy a year after we were married so we would have to go months without seeing each other. While he was gone I had to *ahem* take matters into my own hands. When he came home from being deployed, it was all I could do to not rip his clothes off right there.

“There” being in front of the other wives watching and waiting for their men on the dock. I have to admit my sex drive has never been that high except in High School but my mom is reading this so sshhhh but when my husband was gone for several months at a time, it was all I could think about.

We’ve been married for over 15 years and during that time, things on my body have stretched and sagged. He would assure me that it didn’t bother him but I would still be self-conscious. Over the years our sex life has gone down because of it. Nearly 2 years ago I had my daughter and there was more stretching and sagging.

With my post-pregnancy body came more insecurity. Sex became exhausting but not for the right reasons. Before our clothes came off, I would make sure the lights were out. His hands would roam all over my body and I would suck my stomach in.

I would also do a move to make my boobs look perky. You know the one. Arms laying at my side and lifting my breasts up so they wouldn’t fall into my armpits. Instant perkiness…ish. I would lay down in the most uncomfortable positions so I would look better.

There I was on the bed, stomach sucked in as far as it would go, arms to my side holding up my boobs, head turned a certain way so I wouldn’t have a double chin, all while trying to guide my husband’s hands to a place on my body that I wasn’t self-conscious about, like my hair. I know, totally wild and sexy. RAWR!

I had an emergency caesarean and never had an issue with the scar but I had complications with my cesarean which caused us to have less sex because of the pain I was in. 11 months later I had to have another abdominal surgery. I was left with four small scars on my stomach. Four small, raised, red scars. It took me a few weeks to even look at my stomach and when I did I felt like some kind of Frankenstein.

When I finally recovered and my husband and I started having sex again, I would leave my shirt on. He assured me like always that I have nothing to worry about but those scars made me feel so insecure about my body.

Sure I became a pro at being a contortionist so he might possibly oversee the extra weight I had put on with pregnancy but the scars are like a big flashing neon sign to me. It’s been almost a year since I’ve had surgery and the scars haven’t gotten much better, even after using over the counter treatments that promise to reduce them.

Fortunately, I am becoming better with my insecurity although it’s been slow going. I no longer feel the need to wear a shirt but I still don’t feel like I’m at a place where I can fully enjoy sex like I used to.

Every now and then my husband makes fun of his love handles or a little thinning along his hairline and I hate to hear him talk that way about himself. If only I could get it in my head that he feels the same way when I put myself down.

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The awesome of the week.

My laptop is still in computer intensive care (don’t worry, I’ve shared some of my Valentine’s chocolates with it while it quitely lays there by the side of the bed) and yesterday I started puking nothing to do with the chocolates but oh gawd please say I’m not getting the flu again so instead of writing a real post, I wanted to share some posts from the past week that I thought were funny.

Me and Mine. Allison has a hilarious post that you just have to see for yourself. Last night I had to show it to my husband and then he wondered if this thing was for real. Not Allison but the thing in her post which I don’t want to mention because then I would just give the awesome away. I googled it and found it on Amazon. The reviews for this product, which obviously aren’t meant to be serious, are so funny and my hubby spent a good 5 minutes reading them.

The Fordeville Diaries. What do you get when you start a post with cute pictures of kids making Valentine’s Day cookies and end it with some guy’s buttcrack? An awesome post, that’s what!

Taming Insanity and The Flying Chalupa are dueling banjos this week. They’re writing posts on the same topic. You can’t miss it. Check out Taming Insanity’s post on Ke$ha and the Muppets here and The Flying Chalupa’s take here.

Last but not least, welcome new bloggers Mommy Knows Best who has a toddler and a newborn and Molly from Wonder Kids who has 3 children. And here I thought keeping up with the little hummingbird was exhausting.


Since it’s my daughter’s 2nd BIRTHDAY! in 8 weeks, I’ll be going down memory lane in the coming weeks with pictures and video. Just a few months ago I said that I’m not going to put as many pics of the little hummingbird on my blog like I used to but MY BABY IS TURNING 2 YEARS OLD! Ahem.

I think her 2nd BIRTHDAY! is harder for me than her 1st. When she was turning a year old, I couldn’t wait for her to walk and start talking but now that she’s a pro-walker more like runner and talking more every day, I miss my baby girl. It doesn’t hurt that when she was turning a year old she didn’t whine as much either. heh. It really does go by so fast. ::sniff sniff::

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* This is super whiny. I’ve had two migraines in the past week so I haven’t been in the best mood.

My laptop has a virus. Crappity crap! It won’t even let me open up a browser and is completely unusable. I use my laptop to write most of what I post on my blog and it’s become like a security blanket in a way. I’ve gotten in such a habit of taking my laptop and writing while I’m on my bed so it feels really weird to write anywhere else.

I’ve been having major writer’s block since I don’t have it to write on. This post alone took all day to finish although it wasn’t several hours in a row. If I had several hours in a row, I would use it to sleep, free of my husband’s snoring. One can dream. :^) We have a home computer, which (needless to say) is what I’m currently using, but it has been slooooow and needs an upgrade. It gets me so irritated that I want to throw it out of the window.

Since I’m computer illiterate, it’s up to my hubby to fix my laptop. We found out what virus it is, I just don’t know when he’ll have the time to do it. My husband tried fixing it Monday night and when that didn’t work he said he has to do it manually. I don’t know anything about this stuff but that doesn’t sound good. He told me that this virus is especially a pain because it blocks the windows that he tries to open so he can fix my laptop.


On Monday night while I was upstairs trying to find out what was wrong with my laptop, my daughter and husband were downstairs and it was nearing her bedtime. He likes to put her to bed since he’s gone at work all day. We have four baby gates throughout our house. One is at the bottom of the stairs, another is at the top, one is in the doorway of the living room, and one is between the kitchen and dining room.

I heard the little hummingbird climbing up the stairs and just assumed my husband was with her. Expect for a few times whoopsie, we’re really good at making sure the gates are closed tight. But our cat can be a real pain about wanting through the gates so if we’re in the living room with the gate closed, we’ll leave the bottom stairs gate open so we don’t have to hear our cat pawing at that gate while doing her awful MEOWRRR.

To my horror, I heard my hubby in the kitchen and realized my daughter was going up the stairs alone. Fuck! Before I had a chance to get to my daughter, I heard her falling down the stairs. Her cry will forever be burned into my brain. I ran out of the bedroom, saw her lying on the landing of the stairs, and I lost it.

My husband got to her first and picked her up but I took her from him, looked her over to make sure she was okay, and gave her millions of bear hugs and kisses. I know my hubby is perfectly capable of consoling her and I feel bad that I did that but when she’s hurt, I have this uncontrollable urge to take her in my arms and never let her go.

She was fine and calmed down shortly after but I feel awful. It was such a major mommy FAIL. I feel so guilty that I just assumed my hubby was with her as she was climbing the stairs. Of course that’s what they do every night; he walks upstairs with her for bed.

I also don’t know if one of us forgot to close the gate downstairs or if she figured out how to open it. After opening and closing them for a time, they loosen up and don’t always close all the way.

So that is what has been going on. My laptop is melting, I’ve been having a hard time writing, and I suck at being a mom. I really hope next week is much better.


I didn’t have any plans to watch the Grammys but ended up catching some of it. I’m glad I did because otherwise I wouldn’t have heard of Mumford & Sons. I used to be so on top of music and would spend my days listening to bands like Pearl Jam, Sublime, and Nine Inch Nails. Now I spend my days listening to Elmo and The Wiggles please help.

Mumford & Sons – The Cave

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17 times an hour!

In past posts I’ve complained that my husband snores. He sounds like he’s part freight train and part bear with a touch of Cujo. After several years of me bitching about it, he finally did a sleep study back in December. We waited for the results. Then we waited some more. Aaand waited more. He finally got the results last week.

They want him do ANOTHER sleep study, this time using a C-PAP machine, and it’s not scheduled until the end of the month. It took several weeks to get the results the first time and I can’t imagine waiting even longer. I know the sleep people have to go over lots of data which takes time but our 14-year-old senile cat could diagnose him with sleep apnea in a more timely manner.

My mom uses a C-PAP machine, which I call the Luke Skywalker mask, and it took her a lot less time to be diagnosed so I don’t know why my hubby’s doctor is taking his sweet ass time.

So my hubby has to wait until the end of the month to do the second sleep study, wait for the sleep study peeps to go over his results, wait even longer to get in to see his doctor to make it official, and then wait to get his Luke Skywalker machine, which I know needs to be programmed.

At this rate I’ll be a grandmother before my husband gets this machine so we can both finally get some sleep. What was so shocking to me is the doctor told my husband that he stops breathing 17 times an hour. Holy effity eff!

 Not only do I have to worry about zombies attacking me while I lie in bed, I also have to lie there worrying that my hubs stops breathing every 3 and a half minutes.

What was even crazier was my husband was so blasé about it.

The first night of me knowing this information had me in a panic after we went to bed. Every few minutes I would kick him in the bum and frantically shake him by his shoulder to wake him up so I knew he was breathing. For some odd reason this bothered and annoyed him. Men!

Him: What are you doing?!

Me: I’m keeping you alive.

Him: What?!

Me: You were snoring really loud and then you got quiet so I’m just making sure you’re still breathing.

Him: Obviously I’m still breathing because I’m talking to you now.

Me: Yeah, but if I didn’t shake you and kick you in the ass, you might be dead.

Him: ……………

Me: What? Stop giving me that look.

Him: Even if I stop breathing, I’ll start again. It’s no big deal.

Me: Are you kidding me? What if this is the one time that you don’t start breathing again.

Him: Argh! I’ll be fine. *flips over and puts a pillow over his head* *lifts the pillow off of his head and turns back to me* And what are you still doing up? I can’t sleep when you’re on you laptop. I hear you typing.

Me: Seriously? *feels like taking his pillow and smacking him with it* You have been snoring really loud for the past two hours but I’ve been keeping you up?

Him: *flips back over* *a few minutes later he starts snoring again*

I kicked him in the bum, picked up his pillow, and smacked him in the face with it, all in the name of making sure he’s still breathing……yeah, that’s it! Uh huh…Yep.

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