Friday, May 20, 2016

End of an Era

Things are changing rapidly in our household.

This is the second-biggest understatement of the year next to Hillary's "Trump is unqualified...".

The bigs have outgrown their little carpool, because the boys are too cool for the girls now that puberty/absolute disgust for the opposite sex is starting.

And George has learned to soldier crawl.

He's now unstoppable.

We've outgrown a bunch of baby stuff and are getting rid of it (cue sobbing). You can't tell from this, but Georgie's legs hang way off the end of the swing now.

You know it's time to stop using the infant swing when you buckle in your LO and he does this:

"Oh Hai Mom"

And speaking of stopping-using-things, it might even be safe to get rid of Joe's team towel from '99.

Tuesday, March 22, 2016

George of the Jungle

"Which game was it?" -Will, in response to a parental cautionary tale about someone actually dying of video game addiction

"Why is it so f***ing windy?" -Zach, innocently, on a windy evening

"Hey Georgie, you're my best friend." -Zach

George's baby portrait, looking exactly like Zach's at 6 months.

Sunday, March 13, 2016

Memes for Moms of Boys

Some More Quotes--

"I probably have an idea." -Zach, when he wants to say something

"White weddings give me gas." -James, listening to Billy Idol in the car

"We don't have time for this!" -Zach, fighting his nap

And some Memes for Moms of Boys-

Monday, March 7, 2016

SoCal Baby Names

I live in a part of the country where "mother of five" is a pejorative to be said only while slamming on the brakes to avoid an accident on the 405. People don't tend to have big litters of kids around these parts, because if you are not a hardcore cheapskate like me you may find yourself spending a metric ton of money to house, feed, and raise them here.

So in Southern California, apparently even more so than in other parts of the U.S., each and every name you pick for your baby has got to really count--real people name their kids real aspirational things like Banjo Minnow (boy) and Babe-raham Lincoln (girl).

I might be exaggerating about Lil' Banjo and Baberaham, but please bear with me as I suggest some...

***(Parody) Southern California-Inspired Names For Your Baby (You Won't Find On Nameberry)***

SoCal Real estate themed twins: Net Equity (boy) and Mello Roos (girl)

Hollywood names, taken one step further: Harlot; Schwarzenegger; Stefani; Blanket Statement; Bowie & Queen (twins)

Place names for those who have never been to SoCal: Elsinore; Hemet; Chulavista; Salton

For surfer babies: Aggro; Charger; Gidget

Monday, February 22, 2016

James From State Farm

So, we're still not over the never-ending stomach virus from Hell.


We got to go to Family Rollout Day at Daddy's work on Saturday. Which means we got to expose a bunch of other unsuspecting folks to the virus from Hell hang out with real, live spaceships. It was cool.

Here it is, your aerospace-themed Christmas card picture.

Zach with a weird rash on his face.

We weren't actually sure we were even going to make it to the event, since Zachy had been sick and we the parental units were dragging @ss from cleaning up diarrhea and not sleeping. But we went. And the kids promptly resumed puking Sunday night/Monday morning, as if they'd barely missed a beat.

So...if you were there and we got you sick, I'm very sorry.

It's super exciting to get a picture of our whole family in which everybody's looking, and James is almost smiling a real smile rather than looking annoyed and almost-teenaged. Everybody was dressed REAL nice, too. Like, jeans and polo shirts and dresses. This is no small deal, because for some reason our eldest suffers from the irrational belief system that 1) pants are never necessary in Southern California and 2) wearing khakis or bluejeans makes him look like Jake From State Farm.

You know who I'm talking about.

Anyway, someday he may eventually recover from the embarrassment.

Monday, February 15, 2016

The Never-Ending Stomach Virus From Hellll: Part V, The Remix

We've been battling a stomach virus in our household since approximately Jan 31st.

Because you care, the highlights went like this*.

Day 1. Elise commences barfing
Day 2. Zach has diarrhea over the hills and e'erywhere. Plague of locusts arrives.
Day 3. James and Will compete to barf into the upstairs toilet; James "wins", Will barfs on Joe's folded laundry.
Days 4-5. Joe experiences all of the above & stays home from work so he can rest up for when Kyle** is in town
Days 6-???. My stomach hurts and I get diarrhea, Joe goes out of town, and I poop into my polka-dotted Wal-Mart leggings on the way home from Elise's school flamenco show. (She was dressed as a real flamenco dancer and wanted to show me the moves she'd worked so hard to learn and I just couldn't miss it.)
Day 10. We think it's over!
Day Whatever. Zach is barfing again.
Day 14. Zach is barfing again in his bed. It looks like cat barf.

To add an extra juicy layer of Make It Stop, George is refusing to sleep more than a few hours at a time.

I am afraid to even type this for fear of jinxing him but GEORGE HASN'T HAD IT YET. I'm not sure how that's possible since I've had it and I'm breastfeeding (albeit minimally at this point), and it's probably too early in the course of the illness for those wonderful breastmilk antibodies.

*I know this belongs on 'STFU, Parents' but I don't care.
**Kyle is Joe's epic bromance

And. And! This was supposed to be my very-much-needed weekend off. I know this to be true, because my phone actually reminded me of said scheduled "weekend off" on Saturday, riiiight as I was trying to walk out of my house w/ packed duffle bag in hand, and just as Zach started puking again.

Meryl knows. We were gonna go to the spa [wipes away tears]. Meryl, if you're reading this, I'd like to request a re-do.

Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Heart Beating

George is sleeping on the bed next to me right now, and he is so beautiful. The pictures, they don't do justice to how beautiful he is.

Some more, for posterity and general double-rainbowing:

Let the record show that GT loves pureed pears; hates peas.

Let the record also show that Will gives very good DorkFace when he tries. #Dorkface, as he'd remark.

Let it show that James is outgrowing all his pants much too quickly,

that we let our two-year-old wear his sister's clothes on special occasions,

and that *this* took place (Big Tom holding GT in the NICU) only a few short months ago.