Meanwhile, Back at Bullet Ranch...

• I was pretty much over the stomach thing by Sunday. By Wednesday, I was back on the M & Ms.
• Thursday afternoon, the daycare called. Alex was running a fever. Left work early, picked up Fever Boy, headed to the Dr.'s office and commenced to holding sick feverish baby for the next two days.
• Fortunately, there was no slinging of vomitus or other-end spewage. Only the fever. The fever that would not stop.
• Until Thursday, when the fever did stop and the spirited boy resumed Run-Mama's-Ass-Ragged speed.
• Also to be filed under Running-My-Ass-Ragged: Work, of which I will not write here, but which is wearing me smooth out because I am not as young (and rested) as I used to be. It'll take me a couple more weeks before I'm back into the swing of, you know, holding down a job, but until then, I'm just tired.
• And I swear, one of these days, I will eat something a little more nourishing than pizza and donuts (and yes, I realize that this is totally contributing to the above bullet, but right now? Not exactly giving a damn).
  
• This photo from last week has not been doctored in any way. And we don't even live in the hot part of Texas:

A quick update from HELL

Have you noticed that I haven't updated my Food Journal in a few days? Wanna know why? I haven't bothered to update the food journal because all I've eaten for the past 60 hours is this:

Applesauce
Clear Chicken Broth
Saltines
Plain toast
Water

And today, because I am a wild and crazy gal, I even ventured so far as to have some scrambled eggs with that toast, and this afternoon? Yogurt! Holy Mother of Pearl.

Yep, I managed to contract a delightful case of the Stomach Flu--action from both ends, fever, aches, chills, general misery. Two days later, I'm almost back from the dead. It's been a harrowing journey. As for the Mr. and Al, they're safe so far. Just think solid thoughts for the two of them.

The upshot? I'm now only 4 pounds away from my pre-pregnancy weight. Weee.

In which I cop out and recycle some old posts.

I'm back at work this week (how the hell did I ever fit a job into my schedule, will someone tell me? Gah). While trying to establish a do-able schedule that does not require my alarm to shreik at 4am, yet gets Mama and Baby fed, diapered (him), made-up (me), coiffed (both) and dressed (again, both), along with managing to get to work on time and behave like a grown up professional and actually work while I'm there, updates around here are going to be pretty slim. At least until I get myself pulled together. Hey, maybe while I'm busy teaching people how to write (shut up), I'll actually listen to the lesson that I give about rambling, poorly constructed, not-quite-run-on-but-might-as-well-be-run-on sentences.

Or not.

But I will not leave you empty-handed. Oh, no, I've compiled my very own "Worst-Of" list (apologies to O&A) to keep you entertained while I'm over here pulling out my hair and forgetting to leave milk for Al at daycare (Yes, I did. But I'd left some back-up in their freezer. Thank God.):

Good ol' home-cooked Southern nuptual fun: Why I'll Never Be Invited to Join the Junior League

More nuptual fun, plus some of my own wedding photos: Lil' Miss Know-it-all Snarkypants

The beauty salon: What's Cookin', Good Lookin'?

Where I drop the F-Bomb: My Version of the Truth

The Wig Post: When Dorks Have Babies

And if you are still thirsting for more (Which, whoa. You're bored, huh?), check out the site where it all began. Well, actually, this is where it all began originally, but I really got rolling for the first time over there. But if you want to read some good stuff? Click around on my lil' list o' links over there.

Y'all don't go anywhere, K? I mean, like really.
Someone's got to remind her to leave my milk at school.

Baby's First Meme

Hey y’all. Al here. My mom’s too busy drinking beer and eating M & Ms to write. You see, Henry tagged me like, days ago, and since Mama is tired from not sleeping and stuff, I thought I’d just go ahead and answer the questions to My First Meme all by myself. Except I don’t know how to type. Or spell. OK, so Mama’s helping me with those parts.

3 Things That Scare Me

• Sometimes my Papa sniffles, but it’s not really a sniffle—it’s more like a big rhinoceros snort—and when he does that it scares me and makes me cry.


• When my Mama whips the trash bag in the air to open it? That scares me, too.


• If somebody comes in my room when I’m napping and they start talking real loud and laughing and stuff, that really scares me. Don’t do that. It’s not nice.

3 People That Make Me Laugh

• My Mama when she says “’Scuze, please.”


• My Papa when he tickles my legs.


• Anybody that tells me “no.” That’s the best joke I ever heard.

3 Things I Love

• My Paci


• Sleeping in my Mama and Papa’s bed.


• BOOOOOOBIES!!!

3 Things I Hate

• Putting on clothes.


• Umm,


• That’s about it.

3 Things I Don’t Understand

• Algebra


• Politics


• Why I can’t have a kitten.

“Now, Al, we’ve talked about that. Mama’s allergic to cats.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know why. I just am.”
“But, why?”
“I just am, honey.”
“Well, you can sleep outside, OK, Mama? Papa and the kitten and I will sleep in the bed.”

3 Things On My Desk/Table (or play mat) (or baby jail)

• Curious George


• The blinky musical star from my play mat.


• “Sounds Around Town” soft book.

3 Things I’m Doing Right Now

• OK, I’ll fess up. I’m sleeping. But I already told Mama everything to write. Honest.


• Sucking on my pacifier. ‘Cause I love my paci.


• Dreaming of kittens.

3 Things I Want to Do Before I Die

• Open that drawer that Mama always snatches me away from.


• Rook my Papa out of all the good ball cards.


• Get a kitten.

3 Things I Can Do

• Change the TV channels with the remote control.


• Suck my toes.


• Bounce like a mo-fo.

3 Ways to Describe My Personality

• Chill.


• What does “smart ass” mean? My mama told my Papa that I’m a “smart ass” like him.


• I like kittens.

3 Things I Can’t Do

• Speak English.


• Speak Spanish.


• Swear like Mama.

“Alex!”
“But you’re good at it, Mama.”


3 Things I Think You Should Listen To

• White noise when you’re trying to go night-night. Ever try it? You’ll be out like a light, man.


• Rock ‘n’ Roll.


• Talk radio.

3 Things I Think You Should Never Listen To

• Baby Einstein music.


• Garth Brooks.


• Anyone who tries to tell my mama that I don’t need a kitten.

3 Absolute Favorite Foods

• Sweet potatoes.


• Bananas.


• Pickles.

“Now Al.”
“Really, Mama, I like pickles. Papa let me taste one the other night.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, just ask him.”
“You can bet I will.”


3 Things I’d Like to Learn

• You know how when people move their mouths and make sound come out and other people seem to know what they mean? I want to learn how to do that.


• I’m already good at playing the drums, but I guess there's always room for improvement.
  


• How to convince my Mama that kittens are hypoallergenic.

3 Beverages I Drink Regularly

• Booby Juice


• Water


• That’s all my Mama will let me have.

3 Shows I Watched as a Kid

• I like to watch Texas Rangers baseball with Papa.


• Sometimes I watch “What Not to Wear” or “10 Years Younger” with Mama when we’re lying around in the TV room.


• I like the commercials. Especially the ones with kittens.

Now, I think I’m supposed to tag someone. Except I don’t know who to tag. What if they don’t want to be tagged and they think I’m a pest? What if I don’t tag them and they really wanted to be tagged and now they think I’m not nice or something? So I’m going to do the wimpy thing my Mama always does and say this: If you wanna be tagged, consider yourself tagged, homies. There.

Al out.

Placeholder Post

I'm not sure if it's the heat or Al's boycott on sleep or the fact that I've actually been doing some work this week, but I am dead tired. Too tired to construct sentences, even.

Have you seen my version of a diet? Laughable, I know. Actually, I'm patting myself on the back for managing to record all my food intake so far this week. Maybe next week, I'll concentrate on making some healthier choices. As for exercise? Yeah, I'm working on it.

Funny, my version of a diet seems to be about the equivalent of Al's version of a nap:

Desperate Measures

Alrighty.

Since Kristin is busy packing and moving and taking care of her own family and therefore most likely doesn't have the time to custom design a Cheese & Chocolate Diet just for me, I suppose I'm going to have to take matters into my own hands.

In all honesty, a diet consisting of large quantities of Cheese and Chocolate is a bit frightening (I'm visualizing lots of pimples and constipation), so I guess I'm going to have to go the ol' tried-and-true route: Fewer calories and more exercise. Unheard of, right?

Unfortunately, my will-power isn't what it used to be, so I've come up with a brilliant plan to enhance my motivation: I'm making my food and exercise journal public for the world to see. See that link over there in the sidebar that says What Did Jezer Eat Today, and Did She Get Off Her Fat Ass and Do Some Exercise? Yeah, that's the one. Just click there and you'll see what I've eaten and what (if any, heh) exercise I've managed to accomplish. Just knowing that you can read about every frickin M&M that I've injested and whether I've chosen yet another episode of "What Not to Wear" over walking or jogging (which really shouldn't happen because the treadmill is IN the TV room!) will hopefully motivate me to do the right thing.

Also, feel free to use the comments section to chastise or praise my efforts, whichever is more appropriate.

Oh, and today's data? Purely test data. Yeah, that's it.

I Love the Nightlife

Yesterday, Al's agenda was a bit crowded. He had visits from his GrandMommy and GrandDaddy, his Papa's ex-mother-in-law with grandkids in tow (Yes, they are the ex-wife's kids. Yes, we all get along swimmingly. Really), and one of my favorite coworkers. We also managed to squeeze in a little 7th month photo shoot before the thermometer registered 105 degrees.

Earlier in the week, his teachers at daycare had to give him Tylenol for teething pain on two separate days, and he's got a bit of a runny nose. And he's not had much of an appetite for solids for a couple of days.

Also, this week, he's been working on his conventional crawling moves (as opposed to the butterfly stroke/army crawl) and pulling himself up to standing, which he did last Saturday using a basket full of folded laundry for support and I was so flabbergasted that I just sat there slack-jawed while he lost his balance and plopped his butt on the floor and promptly commenced to screaming his fool head off.

So, you wanna guess what kind of bed partner I had last night? An overtired, squirmy, whiny, snotty, hungry little pirahna who spent the entire night either a) attached to my boob or b) flipping and flopping and kicking as he "practiced" crawling, or c)snorting and coughing and crying because he couldn't breathe or d) whimpering and drooling as he used my chin or shoulder as a teether. All. night. long. That's the kind of bed partner I had last night.

Know what he's doing right now?

Grandma Meets Fingercuffs

The ad for my garage sale last weekend read something like this:

Garage sale (duh) Friday and Saturday. Baby clothes and many baby items, DVD player, bicycle, housewares. 8am to 12pm blah, blah, blah.

That particular ad will attract three basic types of people: recent immigrants, senior citizens, and pregnant teenagers.

The recent immigrants were pretty keen on everything. They snatched up the old vaccuum cleaner, a volleyball I never used, some baby clothes, a little of everything. Everything , that is, EXCEPT my Traditional Mexican Baile Folklorico dance costume. What the hell is up with that?

The pregnant teenagers made off with most of the—wanna guess?—baby stuff.

The seniors were all over the household items—electronics, appliances, a candle or two. One old man made me plug in the stereo/cassette player & recorder/CD player and show him how the tape player worked. The tape player, y’all.

The most popular items in the entire sale, though, were the VHS movies that I unloaded on the table at the last minute. Folks will go wild for some $1 videos. And Capitalist Pig that I am, I didn’t even steer the little old lady away from what she assumed would be a cute little romantic comedy. Nope, I took her dollar and prayed a little prayer for forgiveness as she walked away clutching my old VHS copy of Chasing Amy.

It's the "Create Your Own Segue" Post!

After a few days of consideration, I have decided that it is time to go on a diet. However, I can't just go on any diet. No, I need something that will meet my needs as a busy, active, lard-loving, modern woman. I need a diet that incorporates large amounts of these two food groups on a daily basis:

Any recommendations?



Hey kids! Here's where YOU get to participate! That's right! Here's where you get to
CREATE YOUR OWN SEGUE!

The theme at JezeWhiz today is "Paint," or, perhaps more appropriately, "Things That Mama Does While Al Goes to 'School.'" I spent all day yesterday and most of the morning today banishing the 80s from our kitchen and breakfast nook.

Before:
and After:

Also to be filed under "Paint," or "Things That Mama Does While Al Goes to 'School,'" is the pedicure that I got this afternoon. And before you go all "bitch ain't got nothin' better to do than get her toes done?" on me, let me just add that this is the first Pro Toe Job I've had since 2005, before Al was born. AND I called the daycare beforehand just to make sure that all was well before I committed to an hour of oh-so-lovely foot soaking and rubbing and prettifying.

So THIS is how you spend your time when I'm off at school, huh?