Junk Drawer 11/08/12

Uh it’s November

Where is the time going? Seriously. My baby is almost 5.5 months old, has two teeth, laughs and babbles on a regular basis and he’s trying to sit up on his own! He’s also wearing 9-12 month clothes!!

My big baby is 26 months old and is super super smart and funny and smart and he’s talking a lot clearer and adding words every day and THERE’S NO GOING BACK!! He’ll never not know how to say “airpane” now.

Random blog comment

I read this blog post from an OB in the South that is pro-natural birth. I didn’t even know such a thing existed. Anyway, the blog was about a low income patient he had at one time (no names of course) and the course of this woman’s life. It was very sad and frustrating when you see it from his view point. Of course someone tried to ruin it by making an angry comment saying he was judgmental towards her station in life. This was his response. I love it. I want to share it with the world.

WPBD, we could talk forever. It is very very very wrong to assume any of what this lady went through was anyone's fault but her own. You cannot make people care. People who do not work for a living have no respect for those that do. Free anything will always be abused. The government could give away turds and somebody would lie to get more.
Super Woman. No If’s, And’s or But’s!
Recently I posted about feeling like a Super Mom because I managed to care for myself, my children, my fiance and my house for one day while working and on little sleep. Well, maybe half a week. Anyway, that feeling didn’t stick around for long as things fell off here and there and I recently realized we’re all happy if the kids get their weekly bath on Saturday. Or really whatever day we can fit it in.

That Super Woman feeling has returned in force. No, my hair still looks like dog poop and it’s still falling out like a dogs. Yes, I still only have two pair of pants that fit remotely well. No, I still don’t wear makeup. BUT I didn’t say I was a Beauty Queen Super Woman. Just Super Woman.

I told you about my project last week while Ricardo was out of town. I finished it – for the most part – and was excited to show off my hard work. It was a hit. I received several praising comments not just on the idea but how well it turned out. I still wasn’t sure that he really got how hard I worked on moving all the furniture though. Until last night. He moved a dresser out of our room to make way for a chest of drawers and in the middle of moving it he stopped and looked at me in amazement and wanted to know HOW did I move all of that furniture by myself? I just did. I am my mother’s daughter. End of story. Except that made me feel like a frumpy, balding SUPER WOMAN.