These are the things I am thankful for…
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.)
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.
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?
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.