Look, she fully understands the travesty of justice just imposed on her.
WHAT WAS I THINKING? I'll tell you what I was thinking. My brain, which is currently in a seriously sleep deprived state took a looksy at my darling daughter whilst she was bathing (in the sink) and thought to myself..."I can't stand her bangs hanging down to the middle of her eyes anymore. I'll just get the scissors and do a teeny little snip and all will be better." So I DID get the scissors, I carefully combed her wet hair all down in front of her eyes, and SNIP. And after that first snip, I thought "SNAP." Instead of a mere teensy trim, I'd taken a good inch off. (Frankly, I should have just handed her the scissors and told her to go to town, 'cause she would probably have done a better job of it.) Oh well, had to go with it now. At first, I didn't see HOW bad it really was. But, once I got her out, and properly fitted in her pj's, the true damage was apparent. Holy poo, what to do? I told Jere that Lana was going to KILL me! So, I called Lana and reported my sins. She laughed at me, and told me to scoot my buns down to the salon, since she was still there. My LUCKY day, 8:00 on a Wed. night and she could "save" my daughter from her Mothers retardedness. So, we headed for the salon, Maggie got herself a little sucker and Lana went to work. (I should mention here that she got herself a handsome little "beard" in the process, with the combo of sticky sucker face and wispy hairs flying off of "Lana Scissorhands.") There wasn't a whole lot she could do with my handy work, but at least she softened the lines so my poor child doesn't look like dumb and dumber. It's all ok as long as I keep her bangs totally plastered to the side, then you hardly notice that the "butcher of Nina drive" got her. (As a disclaimer, I DO realize that there are some of you ladies out there who DO cut your kids hair, and that is because you're not nearly as retarded as I am. Good for you.)
Well, at least there is improvement. So, if you ever need a good stylist, just give Lana a call. By the way, I'm sure she'll announce this on her blog, but I'm bitter to say, she is NOT having a girl. I'm mostly saddened by this, 'cause I was totally excited to lend her all of Maggies ridiculously cute clothes and bows. Now WHAT? UGH!
Monday night Maggie and I had to make a run to the store. What store you ask? Well, it's embarrassing, but once again I ventured to the "devil" store, simply because I needed a new mattress pad and I knew it'd be cheapest there, AND I had to get a storage tower for Jere and I knew they had it there. So yeah, we went; let it go (I have). We meandered around the store for awhile, picking up items here and there. I mean really, where else do you get a super dee duper cute shirt for FOUR BUCKS? Walmart, that's where. Anyway, picked up a couple of shirts for Maggie and a couple for Max, got my items on my list and then checked out. Maggie had been great the whole time, happy as a clam. We get out to the parking lot, I load all the stuff into the car, and then I go to get Maggs out of the cart. I wasn't necessarily looking at her, just lifting, when something registers on my arm, and I think "what is THAT?" I look down to see copious amounts of barf all over my arm, ALL OVER Maggie, down her shirt, her pants, my feet, the cart, the ground, and she continues to barf. Now mind you, she has not made a PEEP, not a sound. There was no warning, no whining, no crying, no holding of the tummy, NOTHING! And, I'm used to barfers (Dixie and Jere) who make A LOT of noise when doing the deed. For the record, this was Maggies FIRST barfing experience ever. Her only reaction to it was, when she noticed that her blanket and her arm were covered, she said "oh, ohhhhhhhhhhhh." So, there I am, standing in the parking lot, barf squishing in my toes, nothing to wipe her up with, not quite knowing what to do. So, I used her blanket to clean up what I could, then stripped her down to her dipey and put her in her seat. I got what I could off the cart, picked her binky up from amongst the chunks on the ground and headed home. The smell was just about more than I could take, but somehow we managed. She's such an amazing trouper, she never cried the whole time, and hasn't had one problem since. I guess it was just a very random ridding for her. It might explain why she'd been walking around lifting her shirt up for 2 days, pointing at her tummy. I don't know, just speculating. But hey, at least I now gave her a haircut befitting of her new Wal-mart going, barfing status. I RULE! I just wish I had a pic of the moment. hahahaha
Today I went to my 6 week check up, woo hoo, I'm free! Thank goodness, 'cause people, I might like to admit I'm depressed. I've lost 2o of the 50 pounds I gained with this kid. TWENTY, that's IT! I guess I was hoping I'd lost at least 30, 'cause to lose 2o sounds less daunting. But, I really need to lose like 65 lbs. to get back to where I was before Maggie. I HATE fat, and I hate food and I hate that it has to be a freaking life long battle that never goes away. Good thing I'm doing a triatholon, 'cause something has got to give. And with that said, I think I'll go eat a brownie! HAhaha, I kid, I kid. But, let's talk about starting the, "save allyson's sanity" fund, in which I would use said funds to cut off the hideous amounts of fat/skin hanging around my lower belly. If THAT were gone, I could totally live with the rest of the nastiness. But, I'm done complaining for now, 'cause noone likes to read that crap.
If anyone knows how I can make it so when you click on my pics they get bigger, please lt me know. Andrea, I see that yours always have that ability, how do you do it?
Dana, I'll show you this pic of Max, but it does not show the WHOLE Sunday outfit, so you get just a taste. He really was such a dapper little "man" in it.
And finally, because I'm tired and feeling REALLY random....Who of you loves TOP CHEF as much as I do? I freaking love that show, and I don't even understand what they're making half the time. Speak up, let me know if you're a lover of the chef.
Fat bellies and brownies,