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It’s so selfish and ridiculous… I know. I know! But, it is what it is, and having a 9/11 birthday is crappy.
There, I said it.
I admit, it has gotten better over the past several years. The airwaves haven’t been inundated with traumatic, soul-crushing videos of the aftermath from 9/11 attacks. When it was still fresh, even a few years after 9/11, it seemed you couldn’t escape the visuals, the reminders, everything, beginning about a week before the anniversary of that horrible day.
There lies the conundrum for me: That horrible day… is one of my favorite days.
I enjoy my birthday. I love tacking on that extra number. Tomorrow, Read more on Birthday Pity Party…
Once upon a time, Righty and Lefty lived together in some mighty cramped quarters. For 38 weeks and 4 days, they floated around without a care in the world. (Aside from the occasional bump, push, and kick from their fellow womb mate, that is.)
Despite the tight living arrangements, life for these twins was great. No hungry bellies, plenty of rocking back and forth. It was the perfect place to call home.
Until…
POP!
Merely hours before they were scheduled to arrive into the world, Lefty had decided that he had endured enough.
“Ouch, dude!” I yelled. I was lying in bed, not sleeping anyway, when it felt like Lefty had straight up kicked me in the cervix. Read more on PhotoBlog: Once Upon a Time……
Mary plopped down beside us in the bar, a blue Santa hat on her head.
It was the beginning of August, but I didn’t ask questions. We were in New York at the BlogHer10 conference and I had seen far stranger things by that point in the trip.
Tracy asked how Mary was doing. She smiled and lifted a single orange high heel shoe from her bag, placing it on the table amidst our drinks.
“I lost my other stripper shoe,” she said, gesturing toward the heel.
Immediately, I pulled out my phone, took a picture of the sexy heel, and Tweeted: Read more on Lone Stripper Shoe-Napping: A Tale…
Lindsay Maddox… Laughing my way through motherhood.
(And taking submission guidelines literally.)
Remember when MySpace wasn’t ghetto? That’s when my blogging career began. It started innocently: I wanted to lose weight and thought blogging would keep me accountable. I threw in some stories of my firstborn.
People commented.
I didn’t get to see Zander for a few hours after he was born. Wyatt, my Baby A, was fine, healthy, breathing great. Zander, however, had a few issues breathing. I have heard since that it’s pretty common for Baby B to have some breathing difficulties, especially when they’re delivered via c-section. Something about suddenly having room to move around in the uterus for a brief moment and not getting the fluid squished out of their lungs the way it would in a vaginal birth.
For the past week, I have had this recurring dream. It’s very short, extremely simple, and every morning after I woke up, it baffled me.
I was standing at the foot of stairs that lead to a house in a neighborhood near where I grew up. It was a neighborhood I was rarely in, except for Trick-Or-Treating. I stood at the foot of the stairs, looking up at the house. It was dark. The stairs to the door seemed endlessly long.
It has taken me some time, but I am slowly but surely realizing my mom is a genius. Growing up, she worked as a teacher and came home to my brother, dad, and me, only for my dad to have to leave to go work the night shift soon after she arrived.
Read more on My Doctor Is A Quack…
Blah.
I have a dog-gone stupid cold and today has been a pretty bad day.
My kids have been downright naughty today and were getting into everything. While I was changing Zander’s diaper, Lily was in the tub nearby and reached up to the top ledge of the tub, pulling down all of the soaps, shaving cream, and her no-more-tangles spray. I heard the commotion, but was holding that squirmy little doo-doo monkey by his ankle with one hand and trying to entice him with some toy with the other so he didn’t make a crap mess all over my floor.
Read more on Crankypants McGee…
A little somethin’ for the evening.
Kyli wrote a comment on my blog today telling me she’s 33 weeks pregnant with twins and on bedrest. So, for her and anyone else who’s pregnant or on bedrest or has twins, or just really wants to see cute pictures, this one is for you.
Take a trip back in time with me, to April 13th, 1990. In case you’re not a super calendar genius, that was Good Friday and also Friday the 13th.
I’m not an incredibly superstitious person, but boy-howdy, was that a bad day for me.
It was the last day of school before Spring Break and my first grade teacher (the spectacularly fantastic Ms. Simon) had set up a big ‘ole Easter party for us. We …
That seals it, Lily can no longer be left alone in a room for even a second. Yesterday, I was a bad mom. I was consumed in something else and not paying as close
of attention to the kids as I should have. Lily was in the kitchen doodling, giggling, having fun. Colby was playing with Transformers. The babies were sitting in their bouncy seats in the
kitchen near Lily.
I peeked in …
If you haven’t read the original You put *what* in your mouth?! I’d
recommend starting there before reading this post. It’ll truly give you some insight to what weird stuff my daughter has licked, chewed on, and otherwise completely grossed me out with.
For whatever reason, I mentally blocked the grossest, most barf-worthy thing she has put in her mouth.
Ya know how you forget certain experiences until something sparks your memory? That …
News flash: According to a current debate on a BabyCenter thread, I am ridiculous! In the opinion of some, moms who leave their new babies to go out with their husbands are selfish and ridiculous. Those ladies would probably crap their pants if they knew what I was doing tomorrow…
Turk and I are blessed to have an amazing support system in our parents. As if that weren’t cool enough, our moms are friends. So, early tomorrow morning, our moms are coming up to our house to watch our 3 week old twins, 4 year old, and 2 year …
“Mommy, you no feew good?” my almost-four-year-old asked me last night.
I was lying on my bed, face scrunched in pain and not feeling well in the least. I was having some contractions that made my period cramps feel like a walk in the park.
“No buddy, I don’t feel well at all,” I replied, trying not to show him how unwell I really felt.
“We need-a fix dis,” he stated matter-of-factly. “You need some water?” …
