I’m a wuss-bag.
His beautiful hair…
I have been holding out for
quite a long time now.
I loved the way it
made those sweet, lovely little
curls right at the back.
The soft, golden hue
glistened and shone whenever
light bounced off of them.
The long, wispy front
gave him a place to hide and
reflect on his thoughts.
Sometimes while he was
playing, I would twirl fingers
in curls behind him.
This was baby hair.
I have been clinging to the
last shreds of days passed.
Alas, it was time.
The hair was becoming quite
a nuisance to him.
Snip, snip, snip, snip, snip.
Something so simple, yet still
so emotional.
Hair that I once touched,
smelled, kissed, washed, stroked, and caressed
fell down to the floor.
And who is this now?
This little boy before me?
My baby is gone.
It seems like a raw deal, but don’t worry – I hit like a girl.
I finally posted Braden’s 18-Month Update.
Yes, I know he’s over 19-months old now. I have been pretty good this year about writing His Updates, but I fell way behind on the last two. I know, I know, excuses are like a-holes, yadda yadda yadda. If you can find me, you can write “SLACKER” on my forehead with black permanent marker.
But I get to punch you in the face afterwards.
Sorry, them’s the rules, pardner.
Soon, I’ll even be actually writing his 19-Month Update. If I’m feeling particularly nutty, it might even get finished, oh, I don’t know, before he turns 20-Months old? I know! You can’t believe the insanity! Who would actually do this sort of thing on time?
Oh! Someone who’s not Terminally Behind In Life? I’ll have to remember that.
Anyway, go over and read it. Please? I back-dated it to the proper date, and now it’s really lonely out there in “Old Posts Land.” You don’t want Braden to one day view it and think everyone hated him when he was 18-Months old, do you? Of course not! Only a cold, heartless bastard would let that happen! And you are not that. You are wonderful people!
Btw, I’m thinking this post clearly shows what a good parent I am, and what an amazing parenting blogsite this is. Don’t you agree? You do!? Why, I am so incredibly flattered and taken by surprise!
Of course, just to make it official, you should go vote this site as Best Parenting Blog.
See? Best.Parent.Ever!
<3
No Denyin’ Him
Me around about 10 months old:
Braden at 10 months old (August 2007):
And just because I believe in giving the people more than they ask for (I’m generous, what can I say?) here’s a video that was taken right around the same time as the above photo. You really have to be proud of the dog for not biting his face off.
Braden also liked dog food. Just in case you were wondering. 
I Feel Dirty (and so do my floors)…
Dear Dyson Vacuum Cleaners:
You make me weap tears of desire. When I gaze upon you, something inside me quickens.
I yearn to wrap my fingers around your DC25‘s upright handle. Just thinking about your Quick-Draw Telescope Reach™ Wand makes me feel all tingly. You are so lightweight that I know I could carry you upstairs to the bedroom with ease.
I gasped audibly when I read about how your Root Cyclone Technology enables you to perform endlessly without losing a bit of suction power as time goes on. This thrills me to no end.
And the thought of your On Board Accessory Tools? Kinky. Wherever we might be, we could try anything.
Also, a motorized bush brush bar with fingertip control? *prrrrrr*
Your washable HEPA filter and hygienic storage container tell me that even though I could get you dirty so easily, I could slip your parts into the bath and make you brand new again.
I know they say you empty quickly. Normally, that’s a bad thing, but with you? It just means we can be together over and over again with minimal down-time. I like that. A lot. *wink,wink*
I fantasize about guiding you gently… helping you move this way and that with ease, because of your amazing “Ball™ technology.”
Oh, Dyson! I want to love you forever and ever as you suck my carpets and floors clean!
So… why do you have to be so MFing expensive?
All My Love,
Lotus
The Mexican, Aka The Urin8or
So, I know that many of you love The Mexican.
We all <3 The Mexican, right?
Even though he only has one testicle. (That’s right – he is AKA Uni-Ball.)
Of course, we don’t hold his Singular Teste against him. (And we hope he returns the favor. Ew.)
We still <3, The Mexican, no?
Even though he chews pacis, eats turds, and urinates on our belongings.
Still, we <3 him, right?
Even though he totally bit Braden that one time.
Oh, hell. I DIDN’T TELL YOU ABOUT THAT?
Well, it was an accident. Braden (25 lbs of clumsy excitement) fell completely on top of The Mexican (5 lbs. of wimpy turdburglar) while he was sleeping. And The Mexican literally bit The Battering Ram, aka Braden, at the exact moment of waking because his spleen was probably rupturing.
So yeah. He totally bit Braden in the face, breaking the skin, and scaring the hell out of the poor kid. Also, I had to resist the urge to kill him with my bare hands. And that was very emotionally stressful for me. Because I am rather volatile and impulsive.
But still, we <3 The Mexican, don’t we?
Sure we do.
Even though we also know, for a fact, that he fits in the microwave. (Seriously. Click it.)
I haven’t tested it yet, but I’m thinking he probably fits in the Crock Pot nicely, too.
But we still love him.
And also even though he is ALWAYS in “time out.” (Yes, dogs can be in “time out,” too.)
Still, we all <3 The Mexian, don’t we!?
Yes, we do.
But sadly, John and I got REALLY TIRED of living in URINE WORLD.
Because that’s what you could have called it at Casa Carroll. Urine World.
Get it? Because he wouldn’t stop marking everything and there was URINE ON SO MUCH OF OUR STUFF.
So, since we’ve been renting the new place, because we love him and don’t want to have to pop his adorable, little head off, The Mexican has been living in a little fenced-in area outside…
…coming in only at night to sleep in our bedroom (in his kennel). (Which… you guessed it! HE PEES IN.)
Eeediot.
I told you all of this just so I could show you this picture of something that happened literally months ago.
At the end of February, I walked into the living room and saw this:
And I was SO EXCITED because I thought that Braden had PEED.ON.THE.POTTY.ALL.BY.HIMSELF!!!
This is where you can point and laugh at me for being SO dumb.
Because that? Is The Mexican’s Pee.
And the message to all dogs out there?
If you could just pee on the toilet all the time? YOU WOULD SO RULE.
(and not have to live in a pen outside, dumbass.)
I would rule the HELL out of the Phillipines…
Today’s PhotoHunt Theme: Shoes.
… for free shoes. Just call me Imelda. In fact, many of my friends used to.
Why? Because I’m a freakin’ Shoe Horder.
And let’s just get this first thing straight. I’m really no girly girl.
(Aside: I totally just heard Hans & Franz in my head calling me a “Gurrlie Gurrrl.”)
Anyway – not a big ‘girly girl.’ In fact, until the end of grad school, I even refused to wear pink.
I am also not what I’d call A Material Girl. So often, for me, less is more.
In fact, weirdly enough for the point I’m trying to make here… I LOVE being barefoot.
But, still… shoes? I LOVE SHOES. *twitches a little*
Cute shoes, comfie shoes, flip-flops, heels, tennies, boots, sandals, whatevs.
I have even loved some very ugly shoes.
Just.SHOES.
At almost 3 months pregnant, I had to do a very, VERY painful thing.
We were preparing to move to Nashville, TN from Austin, TX, leaving behind jobs, friends, home, and one dog… because of a Gig change for John. And while that, in and of itself, was gut-wrenching… and I had to pack almost the entire house myself (while working a 40+hr/wk job) because John was already living in TN… the WORST part was deciding I had to pare down The Shoe Collection.
We had WAY too much stuff to move. And I had to pack it all. And I was FREAKING TIRED. My body was making a human being at the time, and all.
So, when I started packing the shoes… and realizing that there were still shoes in The Shoe Collection which I bought in HIGH SCHOOL? (Sorry to yell at you but, HIGH SCHOOL, PEOPLE.) I had to face the realization that these shoes needed to go to a new home.
At Goodwill. Where my tired ass wouldn’t have to pack or lug them across several states.
So… about 40 pairs of shoes were donated to Goodwill.
*cringe*
And the ones I kept still filled a box. A, um, large box.
Unfortunately, pregnancy not only gave me a beautiful baby boy -
- but a permanent widening of my feet.
So, guess what I discovered, which was still holding true even way, WAY after Braden was already happily cruising through this world, getting into way too much crap -
- and constantly demonstrating to us the power of his lungs… can you guess?
MY SHOES DO NOT FIT ME ANYMORE.
Only a few pair still fit. *cries into hands*
And so, slowly, I have donated small loads of my beloved shoesies here and there, to Goodwill.
And The Collection has dwindled greatly.
But please, don’t grieve for me too much.
I’ve managed to keep my claws in some good ones.
And slowly, ever so slowly… perhaps we will see The Collection rise again.
A Shoe Horder can dream, can’t she?
I just wanted to say…
You guys rock my world.
Thanks for all of your support
during these weird times.
You are amazing.
I really mean that. There is
so much love out here.
I wish everyone
could get so much support when
they are feeling low.
Your kind words, emails,
so often restore my faith
in humanity.
I’m always rocked by
how many of you I’ve “met”
in such a short time.
Thank you for caring.
Thanks for sharing compassion.
Thanks for being you.
It feels good to know
that I really can be real…
It’s okay with you!
I may seem like ‘she
who cares not what others think.’
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!
I care what you think.
And it means a lot to me
that you feel the same.
So I can show you
my highs and my lows and you
will not turn away.
And, apparently,
some even want to see my
unshaven armpit.
I mean, one of you
even triple-dog-dared me!
How can I say no?
Now you have suspense.
“When will she post her armpit?”
Mwah-ha-ha-ha-ha!
Dummyface stages diaperhead dinner…
So, I posted this on Braden’s Photo Site the other day… but many of you don’t view that, so I couldn’t resist putting it here, as well.
Because it made me laugh way too much when I put the Swim Diaper on his head.
What? You don’t put swim diapers on your kid’s head to keep him from getting baked bean juice in his hair while he’s eating and trying to push the hair out of his eyes? OHHHH, your kid gets regular haircuts? And I’m a dummyface?
Gotcha.
But look how cute it is:
And he looked so funny wearing it, that I couldn’t resist filming him while he ate. Here’s the video:
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