For the first time in almost four years of marriage, John slept on the couch out of anger. The funny part of this story?? He wasn't mad at me, he was mad at the dog. (For the record, it wasn't my dog who is a saint, it was my mom's dog who's staying with us for a couple of weeks!).

My friends and I are going to Kleinfeld's in NYC in a few scant minutes. My friend Ml is getting married!!! We all love Say Yes to the Dress so we decided that she had to make an appointment there--even if the dresses are out of her price range.

John stayed up late last night, getting into bed around 3. I woke up and groggily and asked him what the hell he had been doing...

What he had been doing was making me a 2 1/2 hour mix cd. A CD that I just previewed on a little jaunt to Wawa and it made me cry a little. It was the best CD ever--songs I love, songs I know and songs that he thinks that I'll like. What made me cry was the fact that no one has made me a mix tape since about 7th grade and even then, it was more about showing off musical taste than making something just for me.

And that's all, I just wanted to tell you that I love my CD and I love my husband.

If you don't want to see a 33 year old woman cry on her birthday:

a) Don't give her maternity clothes disguised as a present. C'mon! No one likes maternity clothes and absolutely no one wants to get them as a birthday present. from your mother. who is supposed to know and love you! On top of that I personally, HATE/LOATHE and DESPISE all cropped pants, which is what I was given. Gross.

b) Don't serve her pizza at her own home when she has the opportunity to get out of the house for something that doesn't involve work and hanging out with 150 kids that belong to someone else. Especially when:
i) she doesn't LOVE Pizza Hut pizza (although I'll admit, it was kinda good last night so I might reverse my feelings on Pizza Hut--I <3 their salad bar, that's for sure!)
ii) you're going to leave your 30,000 water glasses unattended which means that I will be cleaning up the water my child has spilled out of your glasses--because when I bend, I can't breathe and I pee myself. Awesome right?

Do I sound like a cry baby? Absolutely. I am a horrible and spoiled person (and I'm totally cool with that). However, in my defense, someone made me that way (my mother, so she shouldn't be surprised when I am upset by ugly clothes that I don't want to wear) AND I'm super hormonal/miserable and really would've enjoyed a dinner away from my goddamn house that was made out of something other than pizza dough.

Anyways, there were two saving graces...my cool bag from John and the fact that I fell asleep at 9:20 so I didn't have to think about anything else that could possibly annoy me or make me cry.

When your Mother in Law asks you what you want for your birthday, don't ever respond with, "Oh, I think I have everything I need" (even if it's the truth) because you might end up with a pair of these earrings.

John, however, hit it out of the ballpark with a sweet Burberry messenger bag so that I'll stop using my "awesome" resuseable grocery bag from Target as my book bag.

"Don't pull on your pee pee so hard, you're going to hurt yourself!" (to the baby of course, not to John)

"Don't poke your pee pee with a fork! That's gotta hurt!" (also to the baby)

So, I've been absent from the Internet for just about forever...that kind of sucks. I think about posting whenever John tells me I need a hobby--because blogging used to be my LIFE not just a hobby but I hesitate because my blog just isn't really fun anymore, mostly because my life really isn't that fun anymore.



I have an awesome husband, who I love so much and exasperate with my constant tears and/or violent verbal outbursts. I have an adorable son, who is just so perfect and wonderful. I have another (most likely just as) adorable son on the way and yet I am almost never happy and I have no real idea why.



Well, I kind of have an idea. I have no identity whatsoever anymore. I am a mom and a teacher--those are the two main identities I assume daily and there's really no time for anything else. From 8pm-10 pm I don't have any obligations (minus ignoring the grading that I need to do) and usually I just fall asleep on the couch. I haven't had my hair cut since the end of July. I haven't dyed it since 2008!!! Insanity! I used to get it done monthly, in various dark shades/highlights whatever. I don't really have time to put make up on. My clothes are hideous...the clothes I like, I can't wear because I'm pregnant and the clothes I have to wear are just plain ugly and more importantly, plain. I'm almost certain that the me from five years ago would've mocked the me of today. And with good reason.



I don't leave the house much, there's not much to do and anyways most of my friends are knee deep in tiny (not ready to be civilized) children too--so we're all living in self imposed lock down. Do I have friends anymore?? I'm not sure. And even if I could leave the house, what would I do?? I can only shop so much...I can only eat so much...Uggh, I just don't know. So my big question is--what do adults do for fun these days? And how can I make my life better? Any suggestions?

Either the kid is telling inanimate objects, fruits (such as bananas), and grocery store workers to sit, or I say the word "shit" entirely too often. I went with the former as my explanation to the elderly woman behind me in line at the grocery store. It went something like this, "Oh no, he wasn't saying shit (SHIT! I said it again!), he was just telling you to sit!" She didn't even crack a smile...and Tommy didn't help, he said, "shit, shit, shit" fairly merrily as we exited the building.

My child is pointing to and calling for a banana, the way I used to beg bartenders not to cut me off and to just give me "one of those" (whatever was closest, I'd point to it)--which usually left me muttering incoherently into the straw of my ice water that they would give me instead.

I hate the smell, texture and taste of bananas (the last of which shouldn't count except that the kid likes to share his fucking bananas with me!!! GROSS!). Consequently my mother hated hearing stories about how I fell off a barstool and probably should've gone to the hospital for headwound sutures. I think this is cosmic payback and I'm not too happy about it. Because there are going to be worse things than bananas aren't there? Damn you weren't supposed to say yes.

Last night John and I were laying on the couch and he was pouting because we were both bored. We went to the computer and pulled up on netflix queue and scanned through them...nothing was hitting the spot. I mused to him, "Today I was reading about the 10 Best Alien Rip Offs and..." he cut me off...
"You were reading that? I was reading that too!"
"Really? So weird! I don't even know how I got to the list" I said.
"I just love top 10 lists" John responded matter of factly.
"ME TOO!" I shouted a little too enthusiastically.

Then I grabbed his hand and did a little booty shakin' dance (which wasn't very little because my booty ain't so tiny) and we laughed, kissed, held hands and realized that even on something so vast as the Internet (wasteland) we still end up on the same sites.

Ah...true love.