Tag Archives: baby

Sexy Back

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Hi, it’s Cate. Remember me? From Craigslist? I sold you that Step 2 wagon last week? I’m not a psycho or anything, but I just felt that we had a connection and would really like for us to be friends. Wanna get together and meet at the park?

I wish. Then I wouldn’t feel like such a loser right now. Friendless and all. I don’t even know at what point it got to be so hard to make friends. In elementary school, you just blurted it out, you know? “Hey you, wanna be my friend?” And if that didn’t work out, you’d say, “You suck. You’re not my friend anymore.” It was so easy and simple. But maybe I’ve lost my mojo. My friendship juice. I do think that part of it has a lot to do with the way I pick my friends. I’m what you call a shallow person. But before you go all crazy on me, allow me to explain. I pick my friends initially according to how they appear physically. Much like I used to do back in my dating years. Don’t get me wrong, however. It’s still their character that ultimately determines their merit. But is that so wrong? I know we’re not supposed to judge a book by its cover, but isn’t it also true that “you are whom you frequent?” I want friends that would motivate me physically, someone I can share things with like, running and working out. I’m not a gym rat or a work-out-holic by any means, but I felt my best when I looked my best. And I just want to get back to feeling that way again. 

In the last four years, after having the kiddos, I have not been able to get back to my pre pregnancy weight. And it’s been a hell of a load (pun intended) on every aspect of my life. Just today, I was pushing both the kiddos in the stroller at Marshall’s and some lady says to me, “Wow! 2 and another on the way?” I was thinking, “What the fuck are you talking about?” but said instead, “No, I am all done with kids, thank you. This shirt just makes me look bloated.” Doesn’t that just make you wanna go home and starve yourself?

Yet somehow, in spite of being 30 elbees overweight, I’m still mentally fit. So in my mind, I still look for friends that are physically in shape, like I was before the pregnancies. So when I roam the gym or church or mall or meetup groups, I tend to have my blinders on, only looking in directions where my old self used to fit in, never even considering for a  moment that I too am being judged. Perhaps these physically attractive people are looking at me and seeing someone who is not a good fit for them. Maybe because of my current weight, they are unable to see what true beauty lies within me. Ironic, isn’t it?

With love,

Two Tons of Fun

a.k.a. Cate

Womb Mate

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Awww, look at that face.

She looks like an angel, doesn’t she?

How can anyone ever be mad at her?

She is perfection in every way.

What a blessing!

But guess what?

Looks can be deceiving!!!

This little beauty is really…..

A

WITCH!

Don’t let her fool you. That’s exactly what she wants you to think.

A witch for Halloween. Once a year. NOT!

What she doesn’t want you to know is that this is her every day.

Clever though right?

To be yourself for Halloween and no one will ever know.

Guess what kiddo? The joke’s on you! Your secret’s out!!!

Here’s what really happens behind the scenes.

***WARNING! MAY CAUSE NIGHTMARES***

You don’t intimidate me.

That’s all you got?

Oh yeah! Who’s scared now huh?

Cry all you want.

Yell all you want.

Do the scream of death.

You’ve been warned, Ms. Em the Diva!

Next time you have your “babytude,” remember, there’s plenty more where these came from.

I’m just sayin’.

It’s on!!!

In. Your. Face.

Love,

Your ex-womb mate

Poop. Poop. And More Poop.

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Let me start by saying that I love my son to pieces! Let’s call him Tee. I love him with all my heart and would take him however I can have him. I know that every child goes through a phase. Not long ago he was taking off his pants and diaper and thinks it’s okay to run around butt naked, in private or not. And now, we are in the anus phase. He just likes to get in there. Perhaps it’s a sensory thing. But either way, I really hope in time he will get over it. But everyday, twice, three times and sometimes four times a day, he picks his butt when there is shit in there! And it’s not like, he can say to me, “hey mom, I’ve got shit brewing so you might have to change me here in like, let’s say, thirty minutes?”

***If you’ve read my other post, you’d know that my child has no language at the moment, well, none that I speak anyway. I don’t wanna sound like I’m complaining and I hope I don’t offend anyone out there, especially parents that go through what my husband and I go through on a daily basis. Like I’ve mentioned before, it’s hard enough raising a typically developing child, and it’s even harder with a special needs child. ***Disclaimer***

Like I was saying, he is in there like a thong swimwear. So he picks his shitty anus, and he doesn’t yet understand that when you have shit on your hands, you oughta wash them in soap and hot water. So he ends up painting his room in brown because he picks his butt, then forgets he has shit on his hand, and touches everything else in the room. Needless to say, I have to sanitize my house at least three times, but if I’m lucky, just twice a day. I’ve tried googling things like, “why is toddler picking his poopy butt,” and most say, “give him a cold shower right after to teach him a lesson.” The funny or sad part is that my son happened to love cold water. So I can’t punish him that way because he would think it’s a reward. I’ve asked his teachers, his occupational therapist, neighbors, random people in line in front of me at the grocery store, because I’m thinking I can’t be the only one going through this crap. His OT said to get him one of those shorts for sensory seeking kids, but they’re like $80 for 1! I’m gonna need 7! Others say maybe it’s time to potty train him. Maybe he is trying to tell you to change his poopy diaper (duh, I’ve been trying since he was 15 months old). Or just let it be. He’ll get over it (easy for you to say because you’re not the one cleaning up the mess). I also read somewhere that I can buy one of those sleepwear where the zipper’s in the back, then he can’t get it off, thus eliminating his ability to dig in his poop. They too, were pricey. And then one day, after my fourth poopy cleaning for the day, I’ve had it! I just couldn’t take it anymore and went right into Amazon.com and ordered him 7 of the full body sleepwear for everyday of the week. I was so excited because you see I’m a Prime Member and I get the shit delivered to me in 2 days. So they get here and viola! Totally useless. I bought the flannel ones! In the middle of summer. I have yet to use them. So until it gets cold enough here in Southern California, I am stuck wiping shit on the carpet, the wall, the bed, the closet, the toys, just shit everywhere. And then I go in my bathroom, and cry for five minutes, just to realize that I left my son alone in his room to play with his poop yet again. Effing shoot me is the thought that comes to mind, except I use the actual effing word!

How about you? Have you had similar experience? If so, do you have any suggestions for me besides alcohol and medications? Holla atchagurl, hopefully before I volunteer myself to the loony bin. Piss and shit homey! Happy Monday.