Dialect Vlog: The Revenge. With Very Special Guest Daddy Green!

Here’s another dialect vlog. This time I got the idea to record one WITH my husband. So, enjoy us being ridiculous dorks.

 

You know the drill:
The Words:
Aluminum, Dunce, Wagon, Carolina, Later, Misery, Told, Brother, Lord, Beer, Homemaker, Vacuum, Washer, Respond

The Questions:
1. What are the locals called where you are from?
2. What do you call the candy you suck on a stick?
3. What goes on top of your “to go cup of soda?”
4. Is tea sweet or unsweet?
5. What is another way of saying someone is “new” to something?
6. What do you call a place that is not anywhere NEAR a city? “out in the….”
7. What do you call people related to you? “they are my…..”
8. What do tell your children to call another adult? Do your children call them by their first name? Last name?
9. Do you know what cheese curds are? if so, do you like them?
10. what is a way to say, “Yes, I agree”?

Click on the button below to be taken to the host dialect vlog by Mama Dweeb, and see other peoples’ vlogs as well!

Link up, have fun, do one! They’re a blast!

 

Nipped

Whenever someone asks me, “So when are you going to have another one” (and they mean a baby and not like, a Snickers bar. Because my answer to “when are you going to have another Snickers bar” would be “do you have a Snickers bar? If so, right now.”), my response is generally to:

  • Stare blankly, feeling a mixture of terror at the question and terror wondering if they’re fucking crazy and if I should run.
  • Stumble over my words and try and find a polite way to say “it’s none of your business what I do with my vagina and uterus”
  • Laugh hysterically
  • Smile sweetly and say “we’re enjoying our first too much to make her a sister!”

Okay, that last one almost never happens. More often than not, it’s a combination of staring blankly in terror and laughing hysterically. The fact of the matter is, motherhood is hard (duh) and I’m just now starting to feel rested again. Eventually, yes, I do want a 2nd and maybe a 3rd but up until recently my brain couldn’t handle the thought of another child.

Then the other night at chorus, I held my friend’s 7 month old and as I was looking down at her gummy smile and watching her kick those chunky little legs, I was suddenly able to contemplate my future as a mom of 2. It’s amazing how your mind has the power to (almost) completely wipe out the memories and feelings of sleep deprivation, exhaustion, and frustration. I suppose that’s what perpetuates our species and keeps us wanting to have more children.

I’m not saying that I have full-blown Baby Fever yet, but I think that the Baby Bug has maybe given me a little nip. And if that is in fact the case, it looks like it might be time to start getting serious about tackling the things on my Baby #2 Bucket List. I haven’t lost any weight and we’re no closer to getting a 2nd car really.. But Josh’s job has the potential for us socking away money in savings rapidly. So there’s something we should be able to chip away at. I also know that I do not want to get pregnant before BlogHer ’11 (SQUEEEXCITEMENTZOMGTHREEMONTHSAWAY) so there’s that.

I also confess, I worry about having a second one. Can we afford it? Is it crazy? How could I possibly love another baby the way I love my first? I know that people say your heart makes room and I also know that’s a common worry of moms of 1 when it comes to having a 2nd.

So, moms of more than 1 kid.. How did you know that you were ready? Were you worried about loving your 2nd as much as your 1st? How far apart are your children?

Reign of Terror: The Beginning

As I mentioned in my Mother’s Day post (and then again in my post the very next day), the “squirrel on the toilet” incident is not the first occurrence of my husband scaring the ever-loving shit out of me.

It actually began before we were even dating.

When I was 19, I broke up with my boyfriend and found myself without a place to live. Josh and I were best friends, and he arranged for me to stay with his brother Tim until I secured an apartment. My now brother-in-law is master of all things scary. He co-directs & coordinates a big local haunted attraction here in town each year, and his house is decorated to match.  The first night I stayed at Tim’s, I headed into the guest room to get ready for bed. I noticed something peeking out from under the blanket so I pulled it back. There was a prop rubber skeleton laying on the bed, grinning blankly up at me. I threw open the door and declared, “You’re going to have to try harder than that to scare me!”

Little did I know that my defiant proclamation was actually me throwing down the proverbial gauntlet.

The first bad scare that I can remember came years later, when Josh and I were married and living in our first apartment. It was a small one bedroom with a screened-in sunroom. We had our computer out there and I wasn’t working at the time so I spent many late evenings on the computer after Josh had gone to bed. This particular night was no exception.

I was up late one evening playing The Sims 2 (BEST EVER. I think it was after midnight when I finally decided to turn off my riveting game and join my husband in sleep. It was dark in our little apartment except for the artificial glow of our computer monitor. I stepped out of the sunroom and crossed the living room, heading into the hallway. Before I knew what was happening, I heard the sound of feet swiftly making their way through the living room right toward me. There was no maniacal laughter, no declaration of “GOT YOU NOW!”. The only thing I heard was someone silently making their way over to me in a hurry. I spun around just in time for a pair of arms to wrap around me. I let out a choked squeaking noise, bravely raised my hands into a “poised clawing” pose and promptly froze in terror. I’d been had. I was now going to be methodically and slowly tortured and then killed. I contemplated screaming but I was too terrified to make a sound.

And that’s when the apartment was filled with sound, but it was not the sound of my terrified cries for help. It was the sound of my husband, laughing his ass off. That’s when I realized that my attacker wasn’t a random thug, or a paid hitman. My assailant wasn’t a serial killer.

It was my own, loving husband who I’d thought to be sleeping in our bed. It turns out that Mr. Loving Husband had sneaked through the living room while I was engrossed in my Sims and had hidden out in our entrance hall waiting for me to come to bed. He’d crouched back there in the dark and had waited on me for almost a half an hour. THAT, my friends, is dedication.

Once I’d been able to breathe again and Josh’s hysterical laughter had subsided, he actually apologized profusely because he had genuinely terrified me. I was convinced that I was a goner and had completely frozen up. Nice self-defense skills, Mommy Boots.

Unfortunately for me, this was only the beginning of Daddy Green and Uncle Tim’s Reign of Terror and I’ve pretty much been living in fear ever since. Stay tuned for Reign of Terror Part II: The Pig’s Head.

Morning Terror In the Bathroom {Daddy Green Pranks Me AGAIN.}

If you haven’t read about the lovely little surprise my husband left me for Mother’s Day, please take a moment to do so now so you get the full effect of this morning’s antics.

Go ahead. I’ll wait.

Ahem. Yeah. That actually happened to me. ON MOTHER’S DAY.

Anyway, I survived my heart attack and moved on with my life. This morning I dropped Daddy Green off to work, came home with my lovely lady and we had some breakfast, drew on her drawing pad with her brand new crayons that we bought yesterday (off topic, how the hell is my kid old enough for crayons already?), and then mama had to take a shower. I put Nellie in her Exersaucer to watch Baby Einstein while I got ready.

After showering, I decided I was going to give my hair a break from blow-drying today and see if my cut worked with a wavy style. I turned around to open my bathroom closet to retrieve my hair gel and came face to face with this asshole:

GOOD MORNING. I'VE COME FOR YOUR SOUL.

Now, it took me a moment of shock for my brain to register what I was staring at and when it finally did, I screamed so loud that I am genuinely surprised my upstairs neighbor did not call the police, thinking that I was being brutally murdered. I flapped my hands uselessly and then promptly facepalmed myself.

My husband had gotten me. AGAIN. SONOFABITCH.

It’s on, Daddy Green. I don’t know how I’m going to get you back, because you are nearly impossible to scare but by god… I WILL get you back.

This. Means. War.

 

A Mother’s Day Surprise

Today was Mother’s Day, and to start my day off I got to sleep in ’till almost 9:00! Heavenly. I was greeted by my sweet husband and baby girl with hugs and kisses.

Forced love is the greatest!!!!

We went over to my mother in law’s house to do some laundry and visit, and then it was off to the Chattanooga Market for a stroll. We enjoyed looking at all of the crafts and items for sale, and smelling all the delicious food (mmm. Kettle corn.). We headed downtown to have lunch at Taco Mac. Nellie enjoyed some soft tortillas, a few french fries and a couple bites of chicken fingers.

By the time we were through, she was exhausted. We went home and as I was carrying her in the house she laid her sleepy little head on my shoulder and gave me a loving pat. I smiled and buried my face in her hair, breathing her in and hugging her close. I grabbed her fox and her paci, took her into her bedroom and enjoyed a few sweet moments rocking with my sleepy baby girl in her cool, dark nursery. With a kiss, I put her down in her crib and tiptoed out of the room.

I closed her door behind me with a smile and went to the bathroom to take care of business. The door was closed and the light was off, so I pushed the door open, turned on the light, and saw that my husband had left me a surprise friend:

SURPRISE, MOTHERFUCKER

In a fit of glee terror I screamed out “JESUS CHRIST ALMIGHTY!!!!”
Like Jesus is going to defend me against a random devil squirrel sitting on my motherfucking toilet. I hear Josh in the other room laughing like fucking Mutley, trying not to be too loud to wake up our daughter who just went to sleep.

He’s sitting beside me right now as I type this, cackling at his hijinks.

This isn’t the first time that my husband has used stuff like this to scare the shit out of me. I’ll tell you all about the pig’s head incident on a later post.

Heart attack aside, my Mother’s Day has been great. The day isn’t over yet, though, so I’m gonna have to keep one eye on my dear husband for the rest of the day. *side eye*

Texts From My Husband: We’re Not Normal People.

I’ve decided to start a regular post series for your enjoyment called “Texts From My Husband”. It’s just a little glimpse into our weird little family. We had this conversation while sitting directly beside each other on the couch the other night:

Josh: You + Me = 10,000 babies!
Me: Will they run as fast as Kenyans? {reference this video to get the joke if you don’t already}
Josh: Faster and three will fly.
Me: Yesssss flying babies 4 eva.
Josh: And fire breathing
Me: I hope they also have dragon tails.
Josh: One will.. I think one will have gills and kill every shark in the world.
Me: What will his name be?
Josh: Strom the Shark Slayer
Me: Can we call him S3 for short?
Josh: One will be able to telepathically control all rodents.
Me: So we have a fire breather with a dragon tail, a shark slayer and a master of rodents.
Josh: And one that is a really good cook. And of course, Rose who is beautiful, brilliant, funny, and an amazing singer and also awesome at everything………….. Just like her mama>
Me: Awwwwwww.

The moral of this story is that we’re not normal people. And my husband is sweet. The end.

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A Rude Awakening & a Goodbye

I had been asleep for about a half an hour last night when Nellie woke up screaming.

And when I say screaming, I don’t mean “I’m scared”, “I’m awake” or “I’m pissed” screaming. My child was emitting a blood-curdling, high-pitched shriek that I have never heard before and I hope to god I never, EVER hear again. Upon hearing that god-awful, terrifying scream I shot out of bed and was barreling down the hallway and throwing the door to her room open before I even knew what was happening. I turned the light on and hurried to her crib and grabbed her out of it, inspecting her quickly. She was whimpering and crying and I was on the verge of having a heart attack. Once I saw that she was okay and unharmed, I started to shake and sob. Josh had come into the room right after me and was asking if everything was okay. I clutched Nellie to me and just cried. I had to sit down with her in the glider, I was shaking so badly. I couldn’t even talk, but as soon as I could I explained that I’d never heard such a noise and she scared me so bad. I don’t know what I was expecting to find when I threw her door open, but with a noise like that I guess I figured it could only be something horrible.

I noticed a foul smell coming from her so we checked her diaper and found a large, round, hard poop. It must’ve been painful and woken her up from a dead sleep, hence the scream. I changed her diaper and soothed her as she was still whimpering a little. I was still crying and shaking but I got her cleaned up and told Josh to go ahead back on to bed, that I needed to be with her for a few minutes. He turned the light off for us and I took my Nellie and held her to me, rocking in her glider. I couldn’t stop the tears as I held her against my chest. I have never, ever been so terrified in all of my life as I was when I heard that screaming. I almost could not bring myself to put her back down in her crib. We rocked like that for about ten minutes before I finally calmed down enough to put her back to sleep. I did not know that level of terror existed. I have never in my life felt as afraid and panicky as I did when I hear my child shrieking like that. I hope with every fiber of my being that I never feel that again because just remembering it makes me feel sick.

She woke up crying (not screaming, thankfully) almost every hour after that and I got up with her each time. Normally if she wakes up crying, I give her a few minutes to see if she’ll fall back asleep but last night I went in almost immediately. I had to be close to her after the scare she gave me.

I decided to stay home with her in case she was sick, and so we could both get a little more sleep.

I noticed as I was passing by Josh’s phone this morning to use the bathroom that he had a missed call and a voicemail from around 6 A.M. Unfortunately, a call like that can usually only mean one thing. I looked at who the missed call was from and as I suspected, it was from his dad. His Nana died last night.

I thought it was odd that Nellie had such a hard night the very same night that her great-Nana passed away. Maybe the two things are related and maybe they are not. I know that Nana is at peace now, but our family’s got some sadness ahead of us in the next few days.

 

Nellie Says “No”.

I posted last week about Nellie’s vocabulary (I posted at 10 PM on a Friday night. I win at internets, yes?). Well, over the weekend she learned a new word.

“No.”

So far, she has only used the word when I’m trying to get her to eat something she doesn’t want to eat. For example, I made her a delicious quesadilla and this is how she reacted:

 

 

Apparently, said quesadilla is laced with arsenic and poisonous snakes. After discovering that Nellie could say “noooooo”, while we were out to eat at Chili’s I offered her a purple onion from my salad. I took it, held it to her nose and went “nooooo” while turning her head away. I thought it was so freaking cute, I kept doing it until she cried.

Not only do I win at internets, but I also win at motherhood. You can go ahead and give me my Mom of the Year Award now, thanks.

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