100 Things About Me

Yup, I am seriously doing this. (You don't have to say what you're thinking. I totally agree.)

1/ I shave my arms.
2/ I think that black licorice is the single most disgusting thing in the entire universe.
3/ My very favorite movie of all time is Father of the Bride, and I have had a crush on Steve Martin since I was a little girl. Wait, isn't that two things?
4/ I have had a crush on Steve Martin since I was a little girl.
5/ I have three tattoos.
6/ One tattoo is a coverup, so I've had four tats in my life.
7/ I used to have 4 piercings in each ear.
8/ I have my tongue pierced.
9/ I hate hate hate having my feet trapped under the covers. No hospital corners for me!
10/ I must have perfectly painted toenails at all times.
11/ I drink my coffee with 2 packets of splenda and a few drops of evaporated milk.
12/ I have never found Tom Cruise to be attractive.
13/ Or Patrick Swayze! Too much pelvic thrusting in Dirty Dancing made me hate him as a child.
14/ I had to Google Dirty Dancing to make sure I spelled Swayze correctly.
15/ I am a neat freak. In a bad way.
16/ I am afraid that I will start smoking again, once I wean Ethan.
17/ I take all good things and completely over-do them. Wine, food, sex, drugs... my main struggle in life, one that I am finally getting under control for the first time, has been practicing moderation.
18/ I once weighed over 200 pounds.
19/ I once weighed 88 pounds. (As an adult!)
20/ I hate NASCAR.
21/ I look forward to looking through coupons in the Sunday newspaper. It makes me giddy.
22/ I have kissed 5 girls.
23/ I hate scary movies. Hate!
24/ When I was little I took tumbling, ballet, tap and jazz lessons.
25/ I do not have a rhythmic bone in my body.
26/ I am hopelessly addicted to Dancing With the Stars.
27/ I regret quitting piano lessons.
28/ I hate hate hate to be hot. I would much rather be too cold than too hot.
29/ I am not at all religious.
30/ I love red wine waaaaay too much.
31/ I was a serious vegetarian for 2 years. In middle school!
32/ I cuss all the fucking time. Even while talking to my mother.
33/ I love blogs. I regularly read a handful of them every day.
34/ I love peanut butter and marshmallow fluff sandwiches.
35/ I also looooove peanut butter, pickle, cheese and mayonnaise sandwiches. I do believe that my husband contemplated divorce after he learned that tasty little fact about me.
36/ I was the proud owner of several newts as a child.
37/ Ketchup is all you need. Ranch is a close second.
38/ I was born in Canada.
39/ I recently vowed to never diet again.
40/ Wearing eyeliner and mascara always seems to make my day better.
41/ My non-negotiable sleeping conditions: freezing-ass cold and silence. I'll never understand how some people can sleep with the t.v. on.
42/ In highschool I had black hair and wore combat boots.
43/ Smashing Pumpkins is the greatest band ever.
44/ I do step aerobics 3 or 4 days a week in my living room.
45/ I own roughly 30 exercise videos.
46/ I have seen every episode of Seinfeld.
47/ My first mosh pit was at Lollapalooza 1995, during Sonic Youth's set.
48/ At Lollapalooza 1997, my friends and I "rushed" the stage during Snoop Dogg's set and I fell and got trampled on. Some dude picked me up and literally saved my life. Then I smoked a blunt. Hell to the Yizz-EAH!
49/ I never wanted children, primarily because I was scared of giving birth. And it was even more awful than I thought it would be! But, I'd do it again in a second. Well, maybe more like 3 seconds.
50/ If I ever have a girl I want to name her Savannah, even though that would pretty much seal her fate as a stripper.
51/ I have 3 younger sisters and 2 younger brothers, plus an older sister and brother that do not know I exist. Fun!
52/ I have ended a relationship because his feet were too weird looking. Sorry J!
53/ I had severe pneumonia in Kindergarten and had to be hospitalized for two weeks.
54/ My favorite cereal is Cracklin' Oat Bran.
55/ I used to be painfully shy and quiet.
56/ Now I am loud and can't stop talking. Making up for lost time here! Also? At home all day with a baby.
57/ I once faked a panic attack to leave my job at a daycare center.
58/ I always wanted braces as a kid because I thought they looked cool.
59/ I took guitar lessons in highschool and learned a bunch of Hole and Nirvana songs.
60/ I used to wear Airwalks and Converse and doodle all the hell over them.
61/ I smoked in the bathroom in highschool during Spanish class.
62/ I hate squirrels. They make me shiver in disgust. I am convinced that they will eat you if you let them!
63/ I love to throw dinner parties and cook everything from the appetizer to dessert from scratch.
64/ If I get ravenously hungry I turn into a cranky, cranky bitch.
65/ Me and my best friend in 8th grade used to sneak her mom's car out at night and go drive around town.
66/ I sometimes pick my nose while I drive. Ha! Honesty, people, will free your soul.
67/ I find it very difficult to eat without doing something else at the same time, like read or watch t.v. This is a habit I am trying to break.
68/ I love winter.
69/ I hate summer, but that might just be because I live in the dirty, dirty South.
70/ I dated my best friend's ex-boyfriend right after her. We stayed together for nearly two years.
71/ I have never been arrested. *knock, knock, knocking on wood now*
72/ I am incapable of sleeping with my arms above my head.
73/ I have no sense of style and have always been a jeans-tshirt-flipflops girl.
74/ I used to do all of my grocery shopping at Whole Foods even though I soooo could not afford it.
75/ I love watching Full House re-runs.
76/ I have not seen my biological father in 23 years.
77/ When I was little I wanted to grow up to be a "business woman" and wear A-line skirts with matching blazers and heels, hair up in a sophisticated yet sexy bun and dark-rimmed glasses. Yeah.
78/ If I am overly tired or fiercely craving something sweet, I pause to wonder if I am pregnant again.
79/ I wish I had thick eyebrows. I did, once upon a time.
80/ I seriously enjoy brushing my teeth.
81/ I used to cut myself in highschool. I still have several icky scars on both arms.
82/ I once drank a capful of bleach mixed with milk to pass a drug test.
83/ I did not pass that drug test.
84/ I dropped out of community college 1 credit short of my associates degree.
85/ I used to have sickeningly perfect posture. Hunching over a baby all day has changed that.
86/ I have a thing for firemen. Come rescue me with that big long hose of yours!
87/ I have cracked every filling in my mouth by accidentally biting down on my stupid fucking tongue barbell, yet I refuse to take it out.
88/ I have absolutely positively zip zero zilch sense of direction. I often get lost in my own bathroom.
89/ My favorite flower is the tulip.
90/ I suffer from severe motion sickness.
91/ I am incapable of enjoying such quality television shows as Cops due to aforementioned sickness.
92/ I have an excellent short-term memory.
93/ I have taken acid three times, and 'shrooms 4 or 5 times. (go with the 'shrooms if in question.)
94/ I love to read.
95/ My second toe is freakishly longer than my big toe.
96/ I floss daily. Hey, it's more uncommon than you might think!
97/ I can't bring myself to bait a hook while fishing.
98/ I admit to having an abnormal amount of compassion for animals, including cartoon animals. (think South Park.... ever see the one with that rat, Lemiwinks?)
99/ I loathe Criss Angel but looooove David Blaine.
100/ My latest t.v. addiction is Miami Ink. I have a big fat girl crush on Kat.


It's Just Wrong...

It happened innocently enough. Ethan wakes from his nap this morning. I change his diaper. Feed him mixed grain cereal with bananas, berries and juice, and then I let him practice finger foods with a few small cubes of cheese. The morning is rolling along smoothly enough. Today's goal: deep clean the kitchen and living room. I slump Ethan in his Exersaucer after his meal and turn on the t.v. I know this will buy me 5 or 10 minutes to clean up his highchair and maybe wipe the counters down in the kitchen. I change the channel to Louisiana Public Broadcasting, which shows Sesame Street and the like. I head back into the kitchen to clean up. I hear giggling. And more giggling. I turn my head around and lay my eyes on every mother's worst nightmare (que the horror music): Ethan was watching Teletubbies. Not just watching, but watching and liking Teletubbies. He was slouched down in his Exersaucer and slightly leaning towards the t.v. with a huge smile on his face, as if to say, hey old friends, where ya been? remember our crazy college days together? that one time, with the beer bottle and that firecracker in the port-a-potty? My worst fear has come true.


Once Upon a Pillow...

Last night I could not sleep. Between the tossing and turning, the unusual lumpiness of both my pillow and the mattress, the disturbing need to be both naked and clothed at the same time in order to be comfortable, the feeling of too-hot and then, seconds later, too-cold, and the dog demanding to snuggle into the most unpleasant of places, I seriously considered just staying up all night. After a few hours, when I finally found a semi-acceptable sleeping position, Drew began to snore. Loudly. I couldn't ignore it. I elbowed him in the ribs.

ME: "Hey, babe... Drew. DREW!"
HIM, still asleep: "Hmm?!? Wha?"
ME: "You're snoring. Sorry, but you are."
HIM: "Nu uh, I'm not. Those are my 'i love you' noises."

This is one of the sweetest and sickeningly cutest things Drew has ever said to me, and he wasn't even awake. I married the right man.


Grown Up

I was sitting outside with Ethan getting eaten alive by ants when the kids in our neighborhood finally got the courage to come on over and say hi. Ethan and I try to sit outside for at least 15 minutes each day for a change of scenery and to get the hell out of the house, especially if we have no errands to run that day. I always see the same kids: a puffy haired 6ish-year old with missing front teeth, a skinny and tan 10ish-year old with dirty blonde hair that lives across the street and a gorgeous light-skinned black girl (am I in trouble for saying 'black'?) with ringlets.

Ah, to be young again! It recently occurred to me that I will be 27 in less than 6 months. This pains me to no end. Toothless, Skinny and Ringlets asked me about Ethan, about our dog, simple and innocent questions that brought me back to my youth. Toothless is in 1st grade. I remember this year. I had my first crush. I was (embarrassingly) the teacher's pet. I got severe pneumonia and had to be hospitalized for 2 weeks. Skinny and Ringlets are both in 5th grade. At their age I was on the verge of my first kiss, liked (loved!) boys, was extremely uncomfortable in my own skin, didn't know what the hell to do with my hair, liked to eat a little too much and followed the rules a little too closely. My mother had done a great job with me. I had a conscience. I was envious of the other girls, who were allowed to wear panty hose (not even up for consideration as far as my mom was concerned) and dangly earrings (I was not allowed to wear anything but studs until my 13th birthday, as a rule). I was envious but also scared. I remember sitting in my friends room in the dark at a birthday party because they were watching an R-rated movie, as my mother didn't even allow me too see PG-13's. I obeyed. I was a good kid. I vaguely recall my friend's mother coming back to the room to get me, promising that everything would be okay and that I should come watch the movie with the rest of the kids, she wouldn't tell. I was hesitant but did what she said. I had nightmares that night. I'm sure I eventually told my mother what had happened.

Highschool was my time to act out, rebel, make up for lost time. I had sex. Did drugs. Paved the way for years of (almost) regret, but not quite. I realize that everything I've been through makes me who I am today, and I love who I am today. So there are no regrets. There aren't any "If I only would've/could've..."'s. I tell the neighborhood girls to enjoy life, to enjoy where they are and to not rush anything. I know they won't listen. I know they'll wear lipstick too early and let boys feel them up before they're ready. At their age I would never have listened to anyone that told me the same. But I feel good knowing that I tried. I had to say it, and I suppose they are programmed to totally ignore and disregard it. I wonder if they'll think about what I said when they're older and understand what I meant, wishing for these days again.


Add THIS to your resume...

I am able to work out in the morning only because I put Ethan in his exersaucer, where he watches me do step-aerobics or lift weights in our tiny living room and totally makes fun of me in his head. Sometimes he even laughs out loud.

I make breakfast on the fly most days by dumping yogurt, granola and honey into a bowl while Ethan crawls from his toys in the living room into the kitchen to paw at my leg and suck on my foot, wanting to be picked up or maybe because he wants some granola, too.

I make phone calls and pay bills while jiggling Ethan on my lap and letting him suck on the t.v. remote or my liter water bottle.

I am able to shower only while Ethan is napping. If it's an "off" day I'll wrap my rat's nest into a bun on the top of my head, wash my face, brush my teeth and roll on an extra layer on deodorant. You're welcome.

I have learned to pee in the time that it takes Ethan to drag himself from the rug in the center of our master bedroom to the doorway of the connecting bathroom. By the time he raises his hand to knock over the bathroom trashcan, I am finished and can scoop him up and whisk him away. Most of the time, anyway.

I have learned that desperate times call for desperate measures. In cases of FUSSY emergency: dance like you're dodging bullets while singing "why are you so fussy? why are you so fussy?" over and over. It always makes him giggle. Or, an off-key and overly animated rendition of "Head, Shoulders, Knees & Toes" always buys a few minutes of smiles.

I also pride myself on being able to do ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING IMAGINABLE with one hand. And? Am quite proud of my "mommy muscles". Sure, they're covered by a layer of fat, but they're there! I swear!



A teenage boy from down the street brought us a stray kitten on Monday.

Boy: "Do you guys want a cat?"
Me: "NO! NO! NO! No more animals!"
D: "Yeah! Cool! Look how cute! Ahhh..."
Cat: "Meow. Meow!"
Me: "FUCK."

I made it clear that under no circumstances would she ever be allowed inside. Because while cats and dogs are great, wonderful, marvelous creatures, they require more maintenance than I am willing to provide, both financially and physically. Also, emotionally? Sure, animals have feelings too, right? Anyway, I don't know where she came from, but that evening I found a few cans of tuna in the cupboard and put one out on the porch steps, along with a small bowl of water. The kitty attacked the tin of tuna like it was a live mouse, and she has not left the porch since. Every time I open the door, THERE SHE IS, meowing like it's going out of style. Meow! Meow! TRANSLATION: Please, please, please let me in! It's as hot as balls out here and I want to rub my butt on your leg! Meow?

What to do? Do I keep throwing tins of tuna on the porch? I don't want her to starve or dehydrate, but I also don't want her to be our responsibility. As much as I hate to admit this, I've totally neglected Bogart (our chihuahua) in a baaaad way since Ethan was born. We've had Bogart for about 2 1/2 years, and before Ethan came along he was my baaaaaby. I would snuggle him at night and give him kisses upon returning home from work (I know, I gag at the thought now, too)... and the minute Ethan came into the world, everything changed. Bogart went from being the cute little pup that slept in my nook to a ratty, stinky, yippie, disgusting, germ-infested health hazard. I even remember that in the first weeks of Ethan's life I would only pet Bogart with my foot, so as not to risk transmitting any sort of canine germs to Ethan. Things are a bit better for him now, and he really seems to understand that Ethan is our REAL baby. He has been quite the trooper, so if any animal gets my attention, it'll be Bogart.

Anyway, I'm not particularly fond of the BUTT RUBBING that cats are famous for. Rubbing against my ankle is one thing, but when I went to sit on the porch she also brushed up against my arm... leg... back... any part of my body that could possibly be invaded by her rear end, was. And that just can't be sanitary.


Today Ethan and I went to the Whole Foods Market in Baton Rouge. It is HUGE! I am so EXCITED! I bought recycled bathroom tissue, baby food, maple teething biscuits and a gallon of 1% milk, in case you were wondering. Also, lunch for myself: a salmon-avocado roll made with brown rice (yum!!). However, the box did not include those cute little mini-chopstix, and I did not realize this until we got home. And we have no chopstix at home. So? I was forced to eat my sushi WITH A FORK. Outrageous!

Ethan seriously enjoyed his very first teething biscuit. Maple flavor, wheat- and dairy- and soy- free. They smell ALMOST good enough to make me want to taste one myself. I am also curious to know how my breastmilk tastes. Perhaps later I will give in and have a teething biscuit and a cup of breastmilk for a snack.



Feel free to park your vehicle between the top two, courtesy of little Ethan himself. He has a total of 6 now and I am very, very afraid. That's practically 1 tooth for every month of his life! BUT?! Doesn't early teething indicate PURE GENIUS? Yeah. Thought so.


Too much cuteness...


7.5 months

My dearest Ethan,

My oh my how things have changed! You're 7.5 months old now and it is both terrifying and exciting at the same time in the most wonderful of ways. Your daddy and I gave you your first haircut a few weeks ago... a mohawk! The fuzz on the back of your head is gone and there was never much on the sides of your head to begin with, so all that's left is that cute tuft of curls on top. ADORABLE! I cried a little when we started snipping, but after it was over you looked so pimp! In an adorable baby way, of course. It's very punk meets pampers and the look totally works for you.

Your eyes are big and bright and blue and are always looking for something to get into. You have the biggest most genuine smile I have ever seen and 6 teeth! 6! Four on top and two on the bottom, and holy hell do they hurt! Sometimes you mistake my nipple for a wad of chewing gum, so let me just say that if I wanted my nipples pierced I would get it done professionally, but thanks anyway. Your legs and arms and belly are perfectly plump, perfectly round and soft and warm. You still have that awesome baby smell and I kiss and hug you every chance I get to soak it all up, because I know that soon you will want to be independent, and you'll push me away and my heart will break.

You have plump little sausagey fingers and toes, and dimples in your hands and elbows. You really are the perfect little cherub that I dreamed about when I was pregnant. They simply do not get any cuter than you. You are sitting up now on your own, but who wants to sit up when you can crawl to the nearest dustball on the floor and shove it in your mouth? You've yet to "officially" crawl, and I'm starting to think that you'll skip this milestone altogether and go right to walking. You seem perfectly content with the army crawl, where you use your hands, arms and feet to push yourself where you want to go on your belly. At first I thought this was cute, but just the other day I ran into the back room to put some laundry away and left you on the living room rug lying on your back. When I returned not one minute later you were gone. I found you behind a couch pulling on the cord to a lamp. Holy hell, you move quickly! TIME TO BABYPROOF!

Your favorite pastime is terrorizing the dog. You follow him around constantly and he can do nothing in peace. You squeal with delight when you manage to sneak up behind him, and Bogart is so stressed from this that I think he's starting to lose his hair. HILARIOUS! You also enjoy watching me vacuum. You get excited when I bring it into the living room and watch with fascination as I suck up all the dirt that you probably want to put in your mouth. You watch Baby Einstein's "Baby Di Vinci" every day and I'm afraid that you will start speaking in French or Spanish and I won't be able to understand you. I know that "La Bouche" and "La Boca" mean mouth, but that's about it.

You eat baby cereal and fruit every morning and have juice, chicken or turkey and a vegetable each evening, and you breastfeed the rest of the time. You're mastering the art of the sippy cup and in the next few weeks we'll start you on soft finger foods. I think you'd be happy to breastfeed forever but you might have a hard time getting a date later in life if we did that, so I plan to wean you completely when you're one year old, when you can go straight to cow's milk. I think you'll do just fine. You never did like formula or drinking from a bottle for that matter, and that's perfectly fine with me.

Your daddy recently lowered your crib, so now you look like a caged zoo animal when we put you to bed. I also took off the crib bumpers as I'm sure you were planning on hanging them over the side of your crib Rapunzel-style and making a clean escape.

You insist on crashing for the night by 6 o'clock, and after that your soul is taken over by the devil himself and the gates of hell swallow us whole. You stay asleep for a good 5 or 6 hours, which means that I can now have a glass or two of wine when daddy gets home and not have to worry about pumping and dumping or getting you drunk. We will drink together when you're older, at least 9 or 10, when you're daddy and I teach you how to beer bong. I promise.

You're very social and taking you places is an absolute joy. Everyone falls in love with you, and you get tons of compliments on your gorgeous eyes and studly haircut. You smile at everyone and I am very lucky and proud to be your mama.

When I've emptied my bag of baby entertaining tricks for the day and you've eaten all the dustballs off the floor, I'll take you to the couch and snuggle with you, where you'll grab at my hair or pick my nose and babble your sweet baby talk. We make each other belly laugh from the core. You have a great sense of humor and I love it. I really couldn't ask for a better baby. Someday I hope you'll say the same about me.

I love you with all of my heart and soul.


P.S. I am not at all keen on your newly solid poo. It freaks me out.

Straight from hell...

My sister Emily is in town this weekend to visit us. After a breakfast of pancakes and coffee, she went off to shower and get ready for the day. 5 minutes later she emerged from the bathroom in nothing but a towel, cold and shaking. "Uh, Sara? Yeah, I'm such a baby! Heh... there's a bug in the shower and I'm scared to get it..." "What kind of bug?", I ask. "Oh, I dunno" she says. "A roach I guess". I stroll into the bathroom, pull back the shower curtain and there it was: the biggest most disgusting ROACH I have ever ever ever seen, straight from the hell where people go if they misbehave in the first hell. I've never seen anything like it in my life, not even in Texas. I pause to formulate a plan. We are both terrified. Each time it moves we jump and step back. I get a rubber glove and slip it over my hand, for it is my protection, my savior! All hail the yellow rubber glove! Do not let me down! Emily asks if I have any kind of spray, but I can't remember where it is. There is only one option left: THE SHOE. Of course I don't want to use my own shoe, so I run to the closet and retrieve D's old Nike. I whisk back into the bathroom and clobber the bug in one swift motion. We both squeal like little school girls and jump up and down. The roach is splattered across the side of the tub and it had guts! GUTS! Ooey gooey insides! I clearly saw a spleen and small intestine and kidney. For a moment I considered burying the little guy, putting a little tombstone where his smashed body would R.I.P. Then I picked him up with toilet paper (with my glove-protected hand, of course!) and threw him in the toilet. I'm sure his cousins and sisters and brothers are all out to get me now. I'll be sleeping with one eye open, for sure. These fuckers are trying to take over the world.



Horray! This coming weekend we are getting a computer! Also, the internet! Which means more potty-mouth posts, more ranting and raving about absolutely nothing (not unlike a Seinfeld episode, eh?) and more updates on sweet lil' E. All rejoice!

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