Lollipop mix up

I give Jackson an organic lollipop when we leave day-care everyday if he has been good. Well, I gave him one yesterday and told him that he can't give it to the baby. But I guess he felt that wasn't fair and so he shared it with her. I went to get Addison out of the car to go into the house yesterday and sure enough she has the lollipop in her mouth and thinks it is the greatest thing. So the moral to the story is, don't give your oldest anything you don't want your youngest to get, espeically in the car.

What is wrong with me

Ok, I know this doesn't make me a totally bad mom but I can't help but feel bad. So I went to the grocery store yesterday and I brought Addison with me. I have been trying to keep her away from situations that could possible make her sick, more so than usual because of her recent surgery. So of course we get to the grocery store and I realize I don't have her cart cover so I figure I can just clean off the rails with those wipes they have in the front of the store (of course I didn't have my regular diaper bag with my wipes in it). They are all out of wipes for that and I was just trying to get in and out of the store fast. So I put her in the cart and started pushed her around and I kept touching the cart thinking, this feels so yucky but I am sure it is all in my head. After pushing for awhile, I took my hand off the cart and my hand was all sticky and gross. I freaked out and went up to the Starbucks at the front of the store and got as many napkins as I could get and just layered the cart with them. So far nothing has happened to Addison and let's hope it doesn't (especially since we have her baptism this weekend). But the moral of the story is don't forget your cart covers ladies, or at least your wipes.

But as you can see, the stickiness didn't bother Addison at all.

Mom, the Paparrazi

As I prepared Ben for his bath he took off on all fours. I somehow thought it was so 'cute' that he was crawling around with no diaper and seized the moment by grabbing my camera. Wouldn't you know it, mid-shot he decides to bless my carpet with his Golden Fountain of Youth. Oh, but I love him anyways...

I Am Here For You, Always.....Until I Faint, That Is.....

Being a Mother of the Year entails a lot. A lot of monotonous bathtimes. A lot of dirty diapers. A lot of laundry. Sometimes a lot of thinking that your husband is also your child and you run a zoo and no one appreciates you and you just want a beer but it's 10:23 in the morning, and that's just not appropriate. What other moms fail to tell the next generation is that situations arise in which you have zero control, and it is the most helpless, overwhelming feeling ever. So paralyzing that maybe you....ah, pass out.

Sawyer fell at daycare on Friday. Happens, oh, about 67x a week. This time, he blew open his chin and was rushed to the ER. I arrived, calm and cool. This was nothing compared to last year when he opened his head and we had to have it stapled closed. Stitches in his chin? Whateva, man! I've had two babies come out of my hoo-hah, this is nothing!

We get Sawyer, who is screaming like a banshee, strapped to a table and loaded up with what seemed like syringes full of numbing medicine and this is what happened -

Brie (in her head): He is feeling no pain, no pain, no pain....breathe. No pain.

Brie (out loud): Hey buddy! Look at you being a big boy! Your mama's big boy!

Sawyer: (spittle, gut wrenching screams from his diaphragm specifically meant to convey his displeasure).

Brie (head): I feel woozy, concentrate! No pain, lots-o-drugs, lots-o-drugs...big old jugs....heh heh, wait, what?

Doctor: Mom, are you OK? You're.....green.

Brie: Just fine! FINE! It's OK, buddy! I love you!.......um, oh shit.

5 minutes later......

Random nurse: Someone grab her off the floor! The mom is on the FLOOR! I swear, get her UP!

Brie: What the f.......Sawyer?

Pat (Mr. Obvious): You fainted.

Brie: No, no I........why does my face hurt?

Doctor: Mom, you fainted. Get up off the floor and lay down.

Nurse: Sweetie, this happens a LOT. People don't like blood. It's nothing to be ashamed of.*

*but I am reading in between her lines, and I KNOW that she thinks I am a weak mother.

Brie: Put my bed next to Sawyer's bed.

Nurse: Nowwwwwww Mom, you need to rest....

Brie: Now.*

*if she read in between MY lines, she saw that I truly did say, 'now, bitch'.

They stitch my precious man back up, and he screams the entiiiiiiiiiire time. I taste bile in my mouth and cringe in shame over fainting and leaving my son. They untie my fat, brave guy and he sits up, crawls over to my bed and curls up and sweetly says, "Sease good boy. Doughnut, Mama? Doughnut?" and I vow to buy him 2 dozen.*

*Of course that's unhealthy, so he only got 1, and the damn glaze got into his stitches and I basically disinfected it with heavy chemicals fearful we would have to go back to the ER due to infection and I would be judged, once again. But I'm a good mom. I was conscious for about 77% of all of my son's pain.

Hut 1, Hut 2- HIKE!

Is it a problem that my son prefers to be carried around like this??


It makes going out in public quite humiliating since I look like I'm carrying a sack of potatoes around (typically I am not smiling as I am in this photo though).

Baby Names

*Note: this rant is to defend myself against the barrage of "did you name him Sawyer after Sawyer on 'Lost'?" questions. Two of which I got this weekend.

It is unabashedly, UNabashedly (that means withOUT abashedment) that I tell people I knew what I would name my first son when I was 11 years old. The moment is still so clear to me - my parents' basement, a flickering television and in walks Dylan McKay - the hottest rebel West Beverly had ever seen. Swoonville. He may have sometimes walked like he had crapped in his pants and drove a car that looked like a dung beetle and he would growl "Brenda" like it was a sexy name - which it so it not, but he made it sexy - and I thought "I am naming my first son Dylan," and I did. Thank God I didn't like Steve Sanders.

Sawyer is named after a character on "Santa Barbara", a trashy soap opera that trumps "Days of Our Lives" on the crazy factor. Sawyer and his sister, Sydney, were upper-crust ass kissers who never did anything wrong - except get possessed by the devil, drink and drive and a multitude of other soapy sins. I TELL people he was named after Tom Sawyer, but that's a bunch of crap. So if you hear me say that, snort merrily to yourself because I am a liar and I admit it. But before you judge - guess who else was a "Santa Barbara" fan? POSH SPICE. Another character on the show was named Cruz - her 3rd child's name. I claim SB Trendsetter status since my child is older than her's. That Posh....always copying me.

If we ever have another boy, I already have his named picked out. It's Logan. Yuk it up people. You're jealous. I know you're thinking, "Wow....Logan. That's pretty sweet." You bet it is. You wanna know where I got it? THE EFF'G BABYSITTERS CLUB. Oh yeah - Mary Anne Spier's boyfriend. You remember Mary Anne - the mousy, prude one who someone ended up with a boyfriend even while sporting a long ass braid a la 'Big Love'. Logan was just so damn understanding and nice towards Mary Anne and all of her hang ups. So nice. Unconditionally nice. TOO nice. So nice that even as an eight year old reading those books, I was thinking, "Logan is gay, yo." But I dug that gay middleschooler's name.

I think I'm going to print this vent out and just carry it around with me and show it to morons that say "is he named after Sawyer from Lost?" and I can scream, "no, Miss Nosy Pants in the Produce Aisle! They are named for some sideburn-loving, rich brat from Beverly Hills, a doomed transsexual on a soap opera and a babysitter's in-the-closet boyfriend! Now move away from the zucchini!"

Ooops I crapped my pants!

Ben shit his pants (literally) while we were shopping in Wegmans.

Nuff said! (Btw, what is up with his Elvis lip curl in this shot?!)