The Gas We Pass

Can you believe I’m home alone blogging about farts on a Friday night?  Am SUCH huge loser.

Anyway, does everyone’s baby fart a lot or is it just mine?  I mean, is that a baby thing, or an Eli thing? It’s interesting because I have NO idea which things are baby things and which things are unique to Eli – since I just have him.  Sometimes I’ll ask my mom about it and she always says that all babies are unique and have distinct personality traits but when asked to identify any (say, mine) she can’t.

Did you know that if you google tofu + gas you get a whole shitload of hits about the pressing tofu gas problem and how if someone could just find a solution to this problem tofu would then be free to fulfill its true destiny and take over the world? I never even knew that this was what was causing certain issues that I might or might not have been having until the internet told me that indeed, many many many people have”problems” with tofu.  So we need to invent the fart free soybean and then we’ll be rich. I say this also because I had TWO morningstar veggie corn dogs for lunch and I suspect that we’ll all regret that decision in the not too distant future. Also, do you think if you eat things that make you toot, those same things will make your baby toot, or no? I have actually wondered this for quite some time, we should do a study.

Besides the fart free tofu, I have also recently thought of two other million dollar making enterprises, and I actually kind of hope someone steals these ideas and invents them, because that’s how badly I want them in my life.  The first is a button that you stick on your baby, say under their diaper or something, that when pressed makes realistic crying noises. Say you’re at a terrible work event having awkward family time and it would be a very convenient time for junior to want to go home but he’s unhelpfully happy as a clam, you just sureptitiously press the button,  and voila! Crying baby noise, and what do you know, you have to go home! I can imagine SO VERY MANY SITUATIONS where this would come in SO VERY handy (ie every event involving my parents ever and also the super sketchy garage sale we had to feign interest in last weekend when really as soon as we got close enough to see what was on offer we wanted to run run run away as fast as we could).

My second million dollar invention revolves around this item:


Eli has one of these things, he loves it.  He scoots all over the house in it while I do whatever, it’s been a total lifesaver. So my question is, why does this damn thing not have a Swiffer attached to the back of it?  The children could clean the house and not even know it! Pure Genius, I tell you. Someone please invent this so I can stop sweeping my house.

Apropos of nothing, Mr . E is right in the middle of taking some monster huge work geology certifying super expensive two day nightmare test thingee, and don’t get me wrong, it sounds tres awful, however, this event has also really put a damper on my life in general and has also meant he is not here to make me pancakes and also to watch le babee while I import my nine thousand blog links into my new and lovely wordpress blogroll. So very inconsiderate of him. I had to make scrambled eggs for dinner all by myself and while they were very delicious with their smoked gouda and their tasty bits of lox and their sour cream softness, it was still a really very depressing Friday night eating eggs alone for dinner kind of moment.

Although, here, let’s end on a good note for a change. Tonight when I was cooking dinner Eli was scooting around the kitchen floor and then he grabbed the bottom of my pants leg and held on and squealed in delight as I walked and dragged him around the kitchen on his tummy.  I swear I can remember doing that when I was a kid and it just seems like such a kid thing to do, doesn’t it? And all of a sudden, whoomp, there it was:  I’m a mom.  I mean, I’ve obviously been a mom since moment one of Eli, I know this, but this was just such a kid moment, not a baby moment, if that makes sense.  It was a really good moment, and I grinned at no body in particular and thought man, sometimes it’s so fun being a mom, and here i am, being one.  Friday night scrambled eggs  and all.

31 Times

<——————————————- See!

There’s my button!

So far the only thing that’s annoying me about WordPress is that I can’t figure out how to change the color and font of my blog name, or how to add my little tag line about being a princess, which I have grown very attached to. Anyone? Is it just that the template I picked won’t let me have a tag line? Boo on that.

Probably Not of General Interest…

…but lately while doing my treadmill running I’ve been watching Season One of Battlestar Galactica on DVD and now I have THE BIGGEST girl crush EVER on Starbuck.

Seriously, I love girls that kick ass. Starbuck makes me want to quit washing the damn dishes all the time and worrying about when I’m going to fucking vacuum or whatever and she makes me want to ditch my kid and husband at home and go learn to fly a viper and smoke cigars and wear boots a lot, and I’ll be honest, I don’t really even know what a viper is, exactly.

In other related news, how come there are so few kick ass girls out there in TV land right now? And please don’t tell me that Mariska Hargitay files a mean motion or whatever the hell her character does. Furthermore, I don’t share the nation’s interest in forensic science, no matter what random city it takes place in, so whatever ass kicking the sassy…uh forensic sciencey ladies of TV may be doing these days is of no interest to me. Anyway, I’m talking about actual physically violent bad girl power ass kicking and I can’t think of anyone doing it these days. Anyone? If the situation doesn’t improve I’m just going to have to watch Buffy Seasons 1-5 and BSG on an endless loop. And then I might have to start attending comic cons and writing fanfic and reading graphic novels and next thing you know I’ll be buying Star Trek uniforms on Ebay and making Mr. E *renew our vows in Klingon.

And we can’t have that.

*PS We aren’t renewing our vows any time soon, we’ve only been married for four years. But if we ever do, it totally won’t be in Klingon. Duh. It will be how everyone should renew their vows: in Vegas, before God and Elvis. Or Elvis, anyway.

Do I Know You?

With Mom

Thank You

I have much to say. Am doing much better. Thank you very much to all who emailed support. It has helped immeasurably. If you wonder why I’m not blogging or returning email, it’s because I just googled “help baby teething”.

Things I Might Delete Tomorrow

Lately I feel like too many people I know in real life read my blog and I can’t admit the things on here that I wish I could. Like can I say that right now I’m trolling the internet for cute baby boy clothes because right now it’s either shopping or eating and for christ’s sake I’ve eaten enough today.?

Ugh. I’m tired of depressing revelations about my mental instability. I’m tired of my fat ass and my tight jeans and my total lack of willpower. I’m tired of becoming a cliched binge eater but I can’t stop eating mother fucking sour patch kids. I’m tired of soul searching.

Admitting things late at night feels cathartic so maybe I should just keep going. If you know me in real life just pretend you never read this since I’m about to admit it all, right here for everyone to see.

That we don’t know anyone here and we have no friends with which to do anything and I think my husband and I are starting to get on each other’s nerves and sometimes I wonder how I ended up in such a one sided argument of a marriage where everything I say is agreed with. That I finally the other day realized for once and for all that I did not, do not – have a mother I like, really at all, and that I will spend the rest of my life fighting the emptiness that is left because of that. That I say terrible things about everyone I know and I can’t stop. That often we are barely getting by and we are living paycheck to paycheck. That I almost never feel like putting out and that my husband has given up trying to persuade me otherwise and even that depresses me. That I never feel good enough. That I once tried therapy and it was useless because I completely and totally lied my ass off to my therapist. That I shop and accumulate as protection against the insecurity that mounts on the upward curve towards a visit with family. That I can’t drive. That I convince myself that this is not an emotional problem and that I love spending every day at home with nowhere to go. That I love my son so much I often wish I could wake him up just to smell his neck and yet sometimes I look at him and think “you’re STILL here?! Yikes.” That it angers me intensely when I feel judged – and I’ll passively agressively post on my blog later to get you back for it. That I hate talking on the phone and I hate leaving the house by myself because dealing with other people freaks me out so much. That I wanted a girl. That I wish I believed in God.

Bet you didn’t know that, did you?