Friday, July 30, 2010
7 Quick Takes Friday
I've finally caved, figuring that an uninspired post is better than the post I write in my head and never finish and/or publish, and joined the other legion of mommybloggers whose actual responsibilities far outpace their alloted 24 hours per standard day. So, here are my 7 truly random, non-unifying thoughts...
1. I am going to be pregnant forever. I was pondering this while perusing the Walmart junior's department last night, fingering the fine poly/rayon blends of summer frocks and wondering if a size14 XL designed for a chunky high-schooler would look good drapped over my pregnant belly. The answer, it turns out, was yes. And I don't shop at Walmart. But apparantly my alter-ego, big-bellied-Bertha, couldn't care less about the working conditions of slave children in China.
2. I've been listening to Laura Ingraham on my morning commute, and NPR on the way home. I'm anticipating a schizophrenic psychotic break any day now...
3. Is there anything more deliciously ironic in the world than the posturing of our president who wants so badly to be taken "seriously," yet simultaneously feels the need to "connect" with his inferiors. Pathetic, BHO. Just pathetic.
4. I've recently forayed into the world of crafty DIY bloggers, and I don't ever want to turn back. In other news, my unborn child may have spraypaint fume-induced brain damage. My covered apartment balcony is only so ventilated... Check out All Things Thrifty for a complete and utter thrill.
5. Despite what I've read about decreased fetal activity as baby gets too big for his britches, so to speak, it feels like I'm hosting a World Cup rematch in my abdomen, and my child is apparently so territorial, that so much as the slight pressure of an errant coffee mug or a gently-resting book can set off a furious string of roundhouse kicks visible to the naked eye. No wonder the guys in my office look at me with such a mix of wild-eyed panic and awe. At least I think it's awe...
6. The more I read on the lives of the Saints, the more I'm becoming convinced that ours may not necessarily be a "saint-making age," despite the superabundance of evil all around us. I'm pretty sure St. Catherine of Siena never would have watched the Hills, and probably would have been stunted in her prolific written correspondence by the existence of Netflix Instant Cue. Are we too busy to be holy? Too distracted? I know I sure feel like I am ...
7. I've almost died while driving twice this week. The first time involved a dropped lipgloss and the back of an SUV. The second time could only have happened in Colorado, or possibly Wyoming, when a huge ass horse in a partially-enclosed trailer tooka flying dump on the interstate at 65 mph and... let's just say the gate wasn't quite high enough to contain all of that equine glory. I made a rather hasty lane change to avoid physical trauma, but the psychological scarring will remain for years.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
The Contempt Shown to Parents of Large Families
So, so fabulous. I wish I had time to treat this properly, but please take a minute to read it and pass it on... this guy is spot on!
I'll pull out my favorite quote, however: "Contraception has become a synonym for civilization."
Enjoy!
I'll pull out my favorite quote, however: "Contraception has become a synonym for civilization."
Enjoy!
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
Feathering the Nest
In a radical departure from standard content, today I'd like to talk with you all about something very close to my heart: the Dollar Store.
I know what you're thinking. The Dollar Store is for 3 year olds. Or old women seeking faux flowers and crates of expired, off-brand Oreos. But I'm telling you, there is more there.
So much more.
Case in point; yesterday, I made off with the following:
Insane.
At least, that's what my husband must think when I lug home yet another flimsy plastic bagful of cheap, foreign-made goodies that help to add that "finishing touch" to various rooms in our home. In my defense, I am of the opinion that the phrase "finishing touch" is somewhat of a misnomer when applied to any other domestic pursuit save for cooking, as the process of decorating a home is essentially a dynamic, not a static process.
I mean, I'm not the same person day to day, month to month... so how can I be expected to keep my guest bathroom from undergoing a gradual, inevitable thematic evolution?
Impossible. But also cost-prohibitive.
Enter: the Dollar Store. Or Dollar Tree. Or heck, even Dollar General (though don't let the name fool you, not everything sells for $1).
Whatever name your local discount knick knack retailer operates under, I adjure you pay a visit. But you must be prepared to enter with an open mind, an open wallet (full of singles), and the understanding that a little high-end spray paint can, indeed, cover a multitude of sins.
I know what you're thinking. The Dollar Store is for 3 year olds. Or old women seeking faux flowers and crates of expired, off-brand Oreos. But I'm telling you, there is more there.
So much more.
Case in point; yesterday, I made off with the following:
- 4 adorable, teeny maroon and gold glass hanging lanterns (made in China, of course) complete with 4 candles (lead filled, no doubt... I solemnly swear never to light them)
- 3 unfinished natural wood-framed 8 x 10 mirrors (which I am spray painting burnished bronze and hanging in a staggered series on the blindingly-white blank wall in our living room - poof, DIY interior design!)
- 1 perfect-shade-of-green-for-the-nursery oval tub which now houses Baby Bing's growing library (currently featuring such titles as "Guess How Much I Love You" and "Goodnight, Moon: an apologetic for nihilism - at least according to Chris Gilbert"
- 3 precious glass tea light candle holders in turquoise, clear and cobalt blue, now sitting pretty on my espresso wood armoire-turned tv/dvd/wedding china receptacle)
- oh, and a gallon of spring water, which I carried around and swigged out of the rest of the afternoon. Mama was thirsty.
Insane.
At least, that's what my husband must think when I lug home yet another flimsy plastic bagful of cheap, foreign-made goodies that help to add that "finishing touch" to various rooms in our home. In my defense, I am of the opinion that the phrase "finishing touch" is somewhat of a misnomer when applied to any other domestic pursuit save for cooking, as the process of decorating a home is essentially a dynamic, not a static process.
I mean, I'm not the same person day to day, month to month... so how can I be expected to keep my guest bathroom from undergoing a gradual, inevitable thematic evolution?
Impossible. But also cost-prohibitive.
Enter: the Dollar Store. Or Dollar Tree. Or heck, even Dollar General (though don't let the name fool you, not everything sells for $1).
Whatever name your local discount knick knack retailer operates under, I adjure you pay a visit. But you must be prepared to enter with an open mind, an open wallet (full of singles), and the understanding that a little high-end spray paint can, indeed, cover a multitude of sins.
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