WTF Mom? What did you just put in my mouth?

Carson is an eating machine.  I was going through cans of formula like crazy.  So just before he turned 4 months old, I bought some oatmeal.  And fruit.  And veggies.

The reviews are mixed…

Oatmeal…not so much.

Carrots…YUM!

Tender Baby Peas (read: nasty green shit)….not a fan favorite.

You know what, Mom?  I think I just eat my bib instead.  Mmm K?

He has tried bananas, applesauce, sweet potatoes, and squash.  He does pretty well but we’re about to retry them all again.   Like Avery, he spits out the cereal and opens wide for the good stuff. 

At his 4 month check up, the doctor said I should be careful of root veggies until he is 6 months old.  Something about the nitriates making them bitter.  I looked at her with a curious half smile.  Huh?  She said if I am making my own baby food…when pureeing food, I need to be careful of some veggies right now.  Um, if it isn’t in the Gerber 1st food containers, he’s not going to be eating it.  Yep, I said those exact words to her.  And she laughed.  So did I.  Me?  Make my own baby food?    (Excuse me while I pick myself up off the floor.)

On a side note: This is Avery the first time she had carrots.  While sitting in the same chair.  Need a refresher…scroll up.  They could almost be the same baby…

 

Maybe I’ll just give him a turkey leg on Thanksgiving.  He’d have to battle his sister for that treat.

Aaahhhhh Sugar Sugar

Pole dancing – not for the faint at heart.  That’s for damn sure.  The party was last Friday night and I am just now getting the sensation back in my arms and ass…

I really wasn’t sure what to expect, since my only knowledge of pole dancing comes from the big screen.  But I went at it was gusto.  And let me tell you…it’s fucking hard.  Imagine using your arms to lift your entire body weight off the ground and propel yourself around a pole.  A stationary, metal object.   I spent more time on my ass on the floor than doing any actual spinning.   Bruises, blisters, sore ass, sore arms.   You name it, I had it. 

We learned some moves – 4 or 5 spins – some floor work and put it all together.  It took 2 hours…and by the drive home, I could barely lift my arms.  Two days later, I noticed a huge bruise on the back of my left leg.  WTF?   But then I did spend hours wrapping it around the pole.  What did I expect? 

These strippers make it look easy.   Spinning, inverting, all the tricks.  But I did learn that there is a way to “fake” it and it seems quite profitable.  It’s called “Clapping the ass”.  Yes, there is some severe ankle wiggling that results in the buttocks clapping together.  Apparently men love it…throw dollar bills at it…I tried it.  I suck at it.  Too much cellulite I suppose. 

There are pictures…and I will post them at the risk of embarrassing myself.  Wanna see ‘em?

This is called the Fireman’s Spin.  Maybe I would have looked more graceful doning a fireman’s suit while attempting it…over and over and over.  Never quite got the hang of it.

Our lovely group…we had a great time, drinking boxed White Zin from plastic cups.   We laughed a lot which made the night that much more entertaining.

That last one…most important.  Proper method of accepting dollar bills while working the pole.  However, based on my performance, I don’t expect the aforementioned career change.  Hell, I’m lucky I didn’t do permanent damage.

A word for the men out there…pay those girls well.  It ain’t as easy as they make it look.

Introducing Candice

Disclaimer:  Never did I think I would put a disclaimer on my blog, I refuse to censor myself, however in this case it is necessary.  Candice is a deer…a now dead deer thanks to my stud muffin hunter Hubby.  And below is a picture of her, on the buck pole, gutted.  So if you have a weak stomach, or don’t appreciate the sport of hunting, skip today’s post and come back tomorrow…for the Adventures of Sugar Sunnysparkle or some other witty blog post.  Thank you.  (And I got the idea for this disclaimer idea from Sissy.  I heed your warning that some people might take offense to seeing a carcass.)

Hubby is deer hunting.  Here in Michigan, rifle season opens on November 15th and lasts for 2 weeks.  He usually goes up to the cabin 2 days before opening day and stays for 10 days.   I get a lot of looks from people who aren’t married to hunters.  “10 days, you let him go for 10 days?”  First off, I don’t *let* him do anything.  Secondly, I met Hubby when he was 29.  He started hunting at 5 with his dad.  Do the math, hunting came LONG before I did.  I knew what the scoop was when were started dating.  It doesn’t bother me.

That said, the past couple years have really been hit or miss with even seeing deer.  Apparently they have all migrated south so that they can play chicken with the cars as they run across I-75.   2 years ago he got a deer.  Whom we named Bob.  And last year, he saw NOTHING.  Not a single solitary deer.  But once again, Friday night, he loaded up, full of hope…full of anticipation…

Fast forward to Sunday morning.  We are getting ready to leave for church and my phone rings.  At 10 in the morning. 

Me:  “Hi.  What are you doing calling me?  Aren’t you supposed to be freezing your ass off in a tree?”

Hubby:  “I shot a doe this morning.”  (Yes, it was a doe.  Please spare the Bambi comments, ok?  I’ll bet the hunter who shot Bambi’s mom only did it for sport.  We are going to use this doe for food…)

Me: “No way.  You did not.”

Hubby: “Did too.”

Me: “Did not…” well you see where this is going.  But then he sent me a picture.  Via iPhone.  (It wasn’t long ago that we couldn’t even get cell service at the cabin and Hubby would have to drive to a pay phone to call me…oh the wonders of technology.)

Here’s Candy…..

Doesn’t he look proud?  With his deer in the tree and a beer in his hand.  At 10 in the morning?  Go Hubby!

Avery gets it, that Daddy might bring home a deer and that we will have deer sausage (I’m not a fan of venison but the summer sausage ROCKS).  I showed her this picture and she looked at me in all seriousness and asked:

“Is that how Daddy caught the deer?  In a tree?” 

God bless the innocence of a 4 1/2 year old.

And next up, the hunt for Walter.  The big buck.  With the big rack.  He’s determined to get him too. 

And if you think this post is un-PC, wait until I tell you about Avery’s fur coat. 

 

Search Term Confusion

Haven’t checked my blog stats in a loooooonnnnnggggg time.

Someone recently searched for this:

Weight Loss Jello Shots

Weight Loss and Jello Shots (ie alcohol) just don’t go hand in hand. 

Unless someone out there knows something I don’t.  If so….please clue me in, ok?

Earth to Dana…Earth to Dana…Come in Dana…

Whoa!  A month.  A whole month. 

I am now back on Planet Earth and ready to share.  Hold on to your seats, readers.   (Do I have you pumped up?  On the edge of your seats?  Just sreeling with anticipation…ready to learn about the excitement in my life?  Relax, it ain’t that spectacular! But you might want to grab a beverage – cup of coffee, glass of wine – depending on the time of day you are reading this – or maybe not.  It’s gonna be a long one, I’ve got lots to say.)

Maybe I’ll break it up into a couple of posts….so let’s start with the big one.  Halloween.

Remember when we were little, you wore your costume to school on Halloween day, maybe had a little parade around to all of the classroom, had some punch and cookies.   Those were the good old days.  That isn’t the case anymore…Halloween starts around here at least the week before. 

On the Sunday prior, I took Avery and her BFF Sam to downtown Royal Oak for some trick or treating action.  But this was only after his dad took them pumpkin carving at a local park.  Should we have WANTED to go back out that night, we could have gone trick or treating in said park.  No thanks. There was face painting and fire trucks and much candy to be had by all.

On the 30th, it was party day at school.  Crafts, parade, cookie decoring, snacks, games, and stories.  WOW!   By Halloween it’s really a complete let down.  The sugar high has been continuous for 6 days.   But yet we doned our costumes once again for the ACTUAL holiday. 

Get this – we had trick or treaters at 6:00.  Avery wasn’t even in her costume yet.  We hurried to get ready…so they could rush out the door (Hubby and Avery) while the C man and I stayed home.    And what did they find?  Hardly anyone was passing out candy.  Many houses that had lights on, left bowls on the front porch and didn’t stick around to be bothered with little kids begging for treats.  This is a strange new trend.  And quite sad really.  But I will admit…I succummed to it.  I was missing out on the fun with Avery and Hubby, and I hardly had anyone come to the door.  So I set the bowl out.  The bowl with enough candy for 200 kids.  And off we went.  We were back in less than 15 minutes…and the bowl was empty.  Every.single.fucking.piece – GONE.  Greedy kids.

The only thing I was thankful for:  we barely had any candy in the house.  The bowl was empty, Avery petered out and wanted to head home.  So her bag was pathetically 1/4 full.   Less temptation.  And it wasn’t the good stuff either.  Only 1 Baby Ruth and a handful of Snickers. 

So I know you are wondering what their costumes were…

Avery was a good witch.  With a LED, color changing light up costume.  

This was the 42nd idea she had for dressing up and it only came to her b/c I took her to the Halloween store and let her pick.  I didn’t give a damn how much the getup cost.   I made her pick and we weren’t leaving the store until we had something in hand.  Have you been to one of those stores?  Have you SEEN the costumes that come in size 4-6x?  Devil Divas, Temptresses, costumes I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing.  And they expect me to dress my 4 year old in one.  I DON’T THINK SO!  So we agreed, pink and purple light up.  But the kicker, the selling factor on the whole costume, was that I was going to put glitter on her face and use my mommy make up.  That sealed the deal.

Carson was a sassy little Chili Pepper (much to Hubbys dismay)

I got this costume at a Mom to Mom sale last spring.  It was newborn size – up to 3 months.  What you don’t see, is that my little man is so long, his feet are crammed into the bottom of the pepper suit.  And he was pissed.  And hot.  And about as irritated as a 3 1/2 month old can be.  But he looked damn cute.  That’s all that matters.  Right? 

And they each had their Halloween jammies…

Aren’t they precious?  They look like they are best buddies.  And they are.  He just adores her.  And she just smothers him.  It’s a love-love relationship.  

So that’s Halloween in a nut shell.

Tomorrow:  the debut of Sugar Sunnysparkle, tales of a bachelorette party and as a grand finale…Candice the deer.

Sugar Sunnysparkle

That’s my stripper name.  I googled it.  Although for those of you that know me IRL – if you google my name, there is a very famous porn star with the same name…and I assure you, it isn’t me.  (Those tapes have long been destroyed – HA!)

Are you wondering why I am looking for my stripper name?  It’s quite simple really.  In a few weeks I will be attending a party at a pole dancing studio.  Yes, you did indeed read that right.  And if I am successful, I am considering a career change.   Although if I don’t lose this weight beforehand you’ll see me doing nooners during the “Business Man’s Buffet – All you can eat for $1.99″ rather than working in some swanky club – is there such a thing – and earning millions to take care of my kids so they’ll never have to worry about money.

Whew.  Ok, it’s just a one time class.  And it looks to be a huge amount of fun.   Hubby’s jaw about hit the floor when I told him that I was going.  And then he asked the question only a man could think of…

“Will there be a recital for this dance class?”

Install a pole in the basement and we’ll see…

Twins?

No, I am not pregnant.  Not with twins, not even with one.  Thank goodness.  So not ready for that right now.

But on a daily basis I am amazed by how much Avery and Carson look alike.  I love the fact that they look like brother and sister.   (Sorry Avery, I meant to say sister and brother – I know you are older and came first…)  I am an only child, and adopted to boot, so I have no idea if I look like anyone or where my traits came from.  So to see them side by side warms my heart.

Here are pictures of them…about the same age.  You can tell which is which by the clothes…unless you are an old lady at the grocery story who loves my little girl dressed head to toe in football themed brown/blue apparel. 

Carson isn’t quite as cooperative with the camera as Avery was at this age.  He loves his bouncer so he is permanently at this awkward angle.

And I took this one too…love it!

 

Happy Day!

Random Hump Day Madness

I’m trying to decide what to do with my hair.  I had the cute Katie Holmes style, but I am growing it out.  I want it long – ponytail long – again.  The problem is my bangs.  I haven’t had a haircut since the beginning of July.  And at this point, they aren’t long enough to be “side swept” but they are too long to wear down.  Do I trim them?  Or suffer until they are long enough, knowing that I currently look like Cousin It?

The gym is a great place to people watch.  Especially at my gym where it’s the Senior Citizens Social Club.  Yesterday morning I observed a woman walking around in short shorts and a mesh sports bra.  At least I am assuming it was mesh.  I saw it from the backside and most of it was covered by her backfat rolls.  Please, please put a shirt on, lady.  You aren’t going to be picking up any balding hotties in that get up.

I have finally decided to go clothes shopping.  I have put it off for awhile.  But I can no longer keep the maternity pants up.  Which is a good thing, HOWEVER…I hate the size I have to buy.  I could squeeze into a smaller size but a muffin top and camel toe are not the looks I am going for.  So, I will resort to buying what fits.  Not what I WANT to fit.  *Sigh*

Carson is going for his 3 month check up today.  Hubby and I placed bets (no money will change hands…) on how much he weighs.  I am putting it in writing:

ME:  12 pounds 14 oz      HUBBY:  13 pounds 2 oz

I’ll let you know who is closer.  And he has to get a shot today (Carson, not Hubby) so I figured I would drag Avery along and get her a flu shot.  She was supposed to go yesterday.  Then I had a brillant IDEA to schedule them at the same time.  What the fuck was I thinking?  Taking BOTH kids to get shots at the same time.  Sometimes I really am a dumbass mother who is short on time and is saving herself the extra trip to the doctor’s office.

This morning a SMART bus pulled right out in front of me.  I mean SMACK DAB in front of me.  Apparently the bus company is SMART enough to give anyone a job. 

I love to sing.  Loudly.  In the car.  In the house.  I suck.  Can’t carry a tune to save my life.  But I sound like the winner of American Idol in my head.  That’s all that matters, right?

Happy Hump Day all!

Friends may lie but mirrors don’t

For months now, well – 3 since I had Carson – people have been telling me how good I look.  

Yeah, right.

I joined Weight Watchers at 6 weeks postpartum.  And didn’t take it seriously.  I lost some weight but only made a miniscule dent in the 40 pounds I want to lose. 

I went to the gym a few times, but once every 2-3 weeks really doesn’t do much for the back fat and the thighs that rub together.  I can’t take Carson to the play land.  Ballys pisses me off b/c kids have to be 12 months old and walking.  Well, does that mean moms have to stay fat until their kids can walk????  All of the other gyms around here take infants.  But at $10 a month vs. a new membership at $100+ per month, I’ve figured it out.  Go before the kids are out of bed. 

I bought a new pair of jeans and a cool shirt for my birthday party.  Non maternity for the first time in…well…since December.  Then I looked at pictures from my party.  One picture in particular of my backside.  Pictures don’t lie.  Well, unless you have photoshop.  Which I don’t.  Unfortunately.

Finally on Sunday, I  took a good hard long look in the mirror.  And decided to get my fat ass in gear and lose this baby weight.  I am motivated.  I am dedicated.  I finally WANT it off. 

 My shuffle is loaded with awesome tunes, my beer drinking is limited to weekends only (Hello Miller Lite), and I’ve been rolling out of bed at the ass crack of dawn to get to the gym and sweat to Anderson Cooper (man he’s hot).   Granted it’s only been two days but I feel good.  Scrap that – I feel GREAT!

It will take some time – I am hoping to feel more like my old self by Thanksgiving and be back to my pre Carson weight by Christmas.  (That’s if I can stay away from the Gingerbread Lattes at Starbucks.  I swear they come out earlier and earlier each year…)

So it’s time to stick some fresh batteries in the scale, find some new sports bras, and get it done.   As Avery would say when I tell her to be behave (and as she just reminded me again) – Santa is watching.

Guess I have to stick to it…don’t want to upset the jolly fat man.  Ironic, isn’t it?

An Averyism has been published

It was exciting news in our house…

A few months back (I thought I blogged about it, but  I guess I didn’t…oh well) Avery cracked one of her famous one-liners.  And now it’s out there for the whole world (sorta) to see! 

Encouraged by some of my friends, I submitted the story to Parents Magazine.  Never in a million years did I think anything of it.  And to be honest, I totally forgot about it (baby brain and all).  If you get Parents Magazine or in the month of November you happen to be hanging out in the magazine section of Barnes and Noble or Borders, check out the Baby Bloopers on the last page of the November issue (it’s just coming out now).  There she is in black and white.  In all of her glory. 

Should I tell you all the story?  Or keep you in suspense?

What the hell….here’s the short version:

Hubby wore jeans to work one day and called me in the AM – panicked – because he had a last minute client meeting.  He asked me to bring him a suit and accessories.  So I gathered everything up, and told Avery we had to take something to Daddy at work.  She looked at me, looked at the hanger, and said “Did Daddy forget to wear pants today?”

And there you have it.  The thought process of a 4 year old.

Love it.  Love her.  Can’t wait to get my copy of the magazine.