Here’s what I did this morning: I followed the slow, painful death of a two year old little girl through my Twitter feed. Sound like a horrific way to the pass time? Well, it was.

I’d only planned to stop by Twitter for a couple of minutes this morning, get my fix, tweet a snarky comment or two, and then get a little photo editing done. My mornings have a sequential order to them: cup of coffee, change a diaper, and then check Twitter. Pluck anyone of those things out of my morning routine and risk the earth rotating off it’s axis.

Once at Twitter, I came across a tweet from @allisonzapata, a woman I follow there. It didn’t contain any naughty words, or ruffle my liberal sensitivities, yet it caught my attention:
Read the rest of this entry »

bibbicon Read the rest of this entry »

I gotta tell you, I’m not all that inspired to write and post my usual drivel this week. But give me a cluttered closet and watch-out…now that’s something I can really dig my hands into! It’s like I’m nesting, but without an egg. Oh man, this week has just felt like one big wedgie.

Really, I’ve checked all the junk drawers and the bottom of my purse, yet I can’t seem to find my vapid imagination anywhere! And come on, how could I with silverware drawers to organize and odd socks to match?

Read the rest of this entry »

Before we get to what we’re going to get to today, I just need to say WOW. That, and WOW again. You clicked BuenoBaby to number twenty-six!!! on Babble’s 2009 Top Mommy Blogger list! SQUEEEEL!!! Thank you for your votes and thank you for continuing to vote. I don’t know what else to say except if you ever need anything, say like help changing a tire or a Saturday night babysitter, well…I could probably do a Google search and point you to someone who does those things.

Because You. Are. That. AWESOME.

I wish you were here with me now so I could give you a big awkward hug, but since you’re not, I’m sending you an Internet hug…HUGS! You did make me feel all velvety inside.

O.K., now on with the business of over-sharing. Since I assume you stopped by today to read about things like Whitney’s raw upper-lip (caused by an endless river of snot this weekend), or how I was so high on post-delivery narcotics that I forgot to poop for eight days and had to go to the emergency room, I‘ll get right down to it.

Four years ago today, over my OB’s lunch hour, I delivered Whitney. I’m not going to tell you it was a hard labor, or that I threw beverages or small pieces of furniture at Ben. And I didn’t scream like a boiling lobster as I had, eight years earlier, during my natural childbirth with our first daughter, Lexi.

No, this time around, I had a scheduled induction, and a pain-free four hour labor, wrapped-up with only three minutes of pushing. My pelvis was so numb you could have stuck me in the hip with a hospital fork and I would’ve probably just asked whether or not you knew how long the cafeteria served lunch.

Oooh, wait, there’s a but. And a butt. And a latex glove.

Read the rest of this entry »

Somewhere around the third grade, dodge ball was introduced into our phy-ed curriculum. A game invented by Satan’s minions while suffering from red wine hangovers during their periods. Basically, it’s sanctioned beating under the guise of physical education.

Anyway, I’m not going to get into the rules of the game, or how whipping the red gym ball at our classmates’ necks was considered “good game strategy”, just know that it was a demoralizing, painful experience.

To get the game started, our gym teacher would choose two team captains, who in turn would choose the team players. The captains would select the most athletic kids first…Josh, Andy, Kevin, Matt…Then, it basically ran amuck into a popularity contest until the only two kids left were the fat kid, and the other fat kid. Seriously, those eight year old team captains, drunk with power, couldn’t even be bothered to choose either of the leftovers! Our gym teacher would finally assign those two to a team. NO ONE EVER PICKED THEM!

I like to think those two dodge ball leftovers grew-up, became successful somebody’s, and now employ those team captions. And if there is any justice in this world, their job duties include foot rubs and strapping slabs of meat to their pants while cleaning-up the backyards of hungry pit-bulls.

Read the rest of this entry »