These Are My Thoughts

There will be no rhyme, reason, or general organization of any sort in this post.

I'm already starting to oink out on Halloween candy. I hate that stuff. That sweet, savory, calling-my-name-seductively-until-I-succumb-to-it's-whorish-wiles-stuff. You know what I mean. I even bought the cheapest crap at Sam's Club I could find...no chocolate, not even any stinkin' Skittles. No, it's the hard as rocks suckers, those NASTY-ass flavored Tootsie Rolls (seriously, blue Tootsie Rolls? All kinds of wrong) and those Now & Later things that are named that because you realize that if you bite into them Now, you'll be finding little chips of teeth on your tongue Later.
So, not great stuff. Yet I delve into the bag with the intensity and despereration of a starving, sugar-deprived woman. I'm so weak.

I was in Nora's room rocking her with her bottle (which took 45 minutes tonight, incedentally. Don't know what's going on there) when I realized her room smelled pretty rank. Then I felt bad because the rank odor was eminating from my shoes that were by her crib.

Tate has this video game type thingie for toddlers. It's the work of the Devil. Huh, guess that's why he likes it so much. It's these freaky animal type creatures cavorting around begging people to count, sing, find things, worship at their altar of evil, etc. Their voices are what make me crazy. They sound like kids with stuffy noses hopped up on acid or something. And there's this line in one of the songs about "Having a Special Kind of Fun". Uh, no thanks. I'm not into badly animated blue rabbits who can't EVER find the red balloon that's ALWAYS in the same tree.
And now the thing is, Tate likes to turn "Bunny" on, but he doesn't actually play it anymore. He just likes the main menu page to play over and over. And over and over. The woman says "Slide the mode selector to select the mode of play". Redundant, yes? That's all it is. That one line. Slowly driving me insane. It's like Chinese Water Torture. American Bunny Torture.

I got up in the middle of the night last night to get Nora a bottle because the stinker refuses to sleep through the night. I came downstairs, saw Bob on the couch, yelled at him to get his ass OFF, and then ran after him to keep him from going upstairs. I don't like him sleeping in our bed because he breathes weird. Yes, I'm mean. But the dog breathes weird.
So I'm running through the front hall, and all of a sudden go flying through the air and land on my butt. I slid in freakin' dog pee. I think I yelled so loud people in Cuba heard me. So Eric comes bolting down the stairs in his undies, probably expecting to see me fighting off some scary intruder dude, and sees me sitting on the floor screaming at Bob to go to dog hell.
Yeah, for a few minutes last night all four people were awake in this house and REALLY not happy about it.

My friend Pam and her daughter Bella came over today, along with my friend Sara. I put Tate in time-out, mmmm....14 times? Something like that. At least the kid's honest. I would ask if he had just pinched Bella and he would look at me and say "yes" with a very "DUH, Mama!" type voice. Plus Nora's in her Strangers-Are-All-Evil-Doers-Who-Are-Out-To-Get-Me phase so everytime I would leave the room to put Tate in time-out she would flip out. At least Pam was cool about her kid getting pummeled. And Bella actually fought back once, which was sweet.

The kids' pictures from the other day turned out wonderfully. For anyone in Green Bay looking for a photog., go to www.photobyaubrey.com You can see some of our pics in her blog. Nora's rockin' the fuzz-head like it's nobody's business.

Oh, and Nora is now OFFICIALLY crawling. For a few weeks she was doing this thing where she'd do an actual crawl up on her hands and knees for a few steps, then collapse spectacularily on her belly and pull herself along by her arms, ala Lieutenant Dan. Yes, I compare my baby girl to a fictional character who's an alcoholic/drug addict who lost his legs in the war and cleaned up to run a shrimp boat with his slow friend. Doesn't everyone do that?

I'm going to see Neil Diamond one week from tonight. I'm going to Chicago 2 weeks from Friday.

Ok, here's the sad thing. I had more thoughts. Now I can't remember them. I'm thoughtless. I have run out of thoughts. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.