play by play of last weekend

We played all day on the jet skis. Woot woot! They were so much fun.

And then we fell off. I didn't want to fall off so I held on as long as I could. Thus creating this horrible problem of my less than tiny husband landing on the tiny ol' me.

Resulting in what I think is a broken nose. Or highly painful nose. That is swollen. And even hurts under the eye.

THE END!

Poem about syrup

I saw a boy,

Carrying 3 things of syrup.

None of them full, and none of them empty.

Walking, with a mission.

I truly hope those pancakes

Are as great as he looks

Carrying maple syrup all over campus.

Things my husband says...in his sleep.

Chris is sleeping. He rolled over gave me a kiss and asked "did you do your 15 feet before you came in?"

I said no and asked if he did. And he said no. I told him Rusty (our dog) did though and he gave me a funny look and then continued to snore.

What a silly boy.

poor Zoey

Well....it happened.

I've been waiting for the day. And here it is.

I officially have my "mom card."

How does one get a mom card you ask, as if the labor thing isn't enough.
As a woman, we are made to give birth. As a mom, we are made to give THE LOOK.

And that, my friend, is what happened.

Zoey was being naughty, and the third time she tried to do something I simply said her name and I was possessed and my eyes turned into lazers. And you know what? She actually stopped what she was doing!!!
I've attempted to give her the look, and it never worked. But this time I had no control over it. It just happened. The look has a very strong power over the victim, and today I found out it has power over the mom as well.

Woot! I am now a mom. Zoey and I are now on level ground in this fight known as parenting.

two stories and a half

One of my favorite teachers from high school won Barns and Noble national teacher of the year. They had a little reception thing yesterday. I had to go say hi and congratulations to her, and consequently see a lot of people I went to high school with. A lot of them were asking where Zoey was. To basically everyone I just said she was in bed. But to one of the few friends I actually got along with I told the truth. Which was:

I walked home from class ready to pick her up and found her playing with the puppy's poop on the stairs. Apparently it makes for great makeup. And is great for exfoliating feet. So I had to give her a bath and decided it would be best if she just put her in jamms and put her to bed since it was almost 8 by that time.

She said, well its a good thing she didn't eat it.

That reminded me of another story.

We are in the starting phases of potty training. The other day she was running around with a dress and no diaper. She was playing out on her deck. Jessica said "I think she is going potty." So we ran her to her potty. She had her hand between her legs, and when we pulled it down she had poop all over her hand. Yuck. So we hurried and cleaned her all up. I go back outside and see that she had already gone potty and there was a huge chunk of intestinal gold. Before I could grab something to pick it up, Rusty in all her glory ran over and grabbed it. Lovely..... So I spent a good 10 minutes...ok it was more like 30 seconds but still... running after a dog with a bunch of my daughters poop in her mouth. I guess I can cross that off my bucket list.

After I got about half way through the story I realized I had just spent 10 minutes talking to someone I have seen twice in the past 5 years about crap. Literally. I have such a potty mouth. And she, being the kind spirit she is just smiled and nodded at all the appropriate moments. It was at that moment that I realized that I have a hard time socializing with people who don't have children.


 Its crazy what one little person can do to my social skills.

second thoughts.

I starting to think it was a bad idea to put Zo on a bed by her self for the first time tonight.

Why?

Not because I'm worried she will fall off (I already worried about that and put pillows down under her), but because the dog is sleeping in the same room as all of us. And she keeps jumping on the bed and licking her face. This isn't going to end well.

emetophobia?!?

I have exciting news.

Maybe not for you so much. But for me.

If you remember my post not too long ago about Chris waking up with a bad taste in his mouth, you will recall that on several occasions I have mentioned my fear of throw up.

Well, ladys and gents, it turns out that that is a very legit phobia called emetophobia. And apparently it is one of the most common fears behind public speaking, spiders, and the dentist. Just most people don't mention it to others. It is so nice to realize that I'm not the only one that the slightest thought that someone may throw up puts me in a panic.

It is characterized by a general panic and anxiety of throwing up youself, or witnessing others do so. Many people avoid situations where throwing up is possible. (Like refusing to go on this one ride at the local amusement park because someone could throw up while I am on it).

They stay away from loved ones if they mearly mention the stomach bug. (ever read Voted Off? that is me to a T, unfortunately.)

Many people haven't thrown up themselves in a long time. I was 8, so its been 15 years. That constitutes a long time to me.

After reading a few things I have come to realize just how much this has influenced my life. My only reason behind not wanting to go into nursing is dealing with throw up. I went through 13 hours of drug free labor because a friend of mine said the epidural made her sick. I run away from my sick husband. I don't like being in crowded places because I won't know if someone will spew all over my on accident. I even go to the second stall in the bathroom because tiny elementary me decided that people in a hurry to throw up go to the first one. I'm pretty sure I could come up with a few more situations if I thought hard enough.

I also read that it might have something to do with feeling out of control at some point, and that emotional state has menifested into a psychological one. This reason actually makes a ton of sense. When I actually started acknowledging the fact that I hated throw up is around the same time I felt as if my world was turned upside down, put in a blender, and sucked throu a twirly straw. I hope that this understanding of my condition will help me overcome it.

I feel silly telling Chris I want to go to a therapist about something a silly as barf-ola, so that won't happen any day soon. But, maybe one day I will be able to accept that this is a part of me, but doesn't have to rule my life. Until that day, I got this nifty little blog and I'll spill my stomach contents for all of blogland to read and ponder.