Grey/Gray

While yes, this does describe my mood as of late; no, that's not what this post is about. It's about appropriate work out/running errands pants. Here's a little experiment to get my point across ...

1. Put on a pair of gray pants
2. Pee your pants
3. You're not going anywhere without changing your pants are you?

Case and point. So, if you want to wear your grey pants to run errands and it's not nine billiondy degrees read: no threat of swamp ass go ahead. But if you want to wear your gray pants to go work out or, better yet, work out and then run errands well, don't say I didn't warn you. 

Gray has a way of showing EVERYTHING. It's not as forgiving as black or white or dark green or navy ... which hide most everything. A very select, few, group of people can get away with "working out" in grey pants cause their definition of "working out" is just that ... exercise that deserves quotation marks around it. Cause it's more about reading US Weekly than it is about actually, working out. 

You want me to tell you when you have something in your teeth, right? Well. I'd certainly hope that if you looked like you peed your pants when you didn't you'd want me to tell you that too.

Update: Mental Health

So, things have been going. Not good, not bad, just going. 

Do I feel as though I'm settling into more of a routine? Yes. But do I enjoy that routine? Not always. I feel as though a majority of our time during the day is spent in the car. This is fine for Lovie since he's at preschool running around for three hours but since it's a 25 minute drive to and from his preschool that doesn't leave Baby Sister a lot of time for eating/napping/tummy time. Yes, there is plenty of time for tummy time in the afternoon/evening but you know. It's just not ideal. But, I guess you do the best you can with what you've got. 

Do I like being a stay at home Mom? Yes and no. I love the fact that I'm able to be with them - morning, noon and night. And they are such happy kids. They are totally thriving. But I'm not. I miss working. I miss the drive to get something done by a deadline. I miss consistent adult interaction. I miss having tangible metrics for achieving success. I'd say the latter is the hardest thing about being a stay at home Mom - you have no idea whether you're successful or not, until they grow up to be either a priest or Eminem.

Currently, I'm pursuing part-time opportunities as well as full-time ones that have the flexibility to work from home some days. I think it'll be best for everyone. And I'm really looking forward to it. Also, being a stay at home Mom has been hard financially. We've had to cut back on some things and, selfishly, I don't want to cut back on certain things.

I've found that while I love being with my children I hate HATE housework. Hate it. I'm fine with it if that's not my only goal throughout the day. But it is. And I'm going insane.  I just can't find joy in laundry or dishes or cleaning. And my admiration for those who do/have done it read: my amazing Mom grows exponentially every day.

I've learned I'd be a great housewife if I could also have the wealth of those of the Real Housewives of ... series. I'd enjoy being a stay at home Mom if my biggest worry was with whom I was going brunch that day or what color I wanted to paint my nails at my weekly mani/pedi. Yes. That I could get behind. At the very least I could totally get behind having a maid. *swoon*

And I'm finally able to talk to a therapist next week. It was the soonest appointment I could get. I know the grass isn't always greener, and that working will present itself with a new set of challenges to adapt to. I know that eventually I may be a stay at home Mom again - but it'll more likely than not be when I'm ready. I just don't think now is my time.

Regardless, I do know there is a happier patch of grass out there and I can't wait to find my happy patch!

Valentine's Day

OH goodie!! A totally made-up Holiday ... actually it's such a horrible holiday it doesn't even deserve to be capitalized.

Yes, I have a Valentine and yes, I still hate Valentine's Day.

That being said, and because the day is just so stupid, I thought:
Wouldn't it be nice to get each other a present???

So, we got each other something special.

All Mr. Nonmomjeans could talk about was how much he wanted a cast iron skillet. I'm pretty sure he even put that in his Match.com profile. We just don't seem to carry them here in Virginia, oddly enough. So in a magazine I was reading, it just so happened that an editor loved hers from Lodge Cast Iron Cookware and it comes preseasoned! Valentine's gift problem solved. Mr. Nonmomjeans also has delicate hands that are sensitive to heat so I thought it'd also be nice if I got him a handle protector for his precious phalanges.

I've never had a massage or a spa day. So I was pretty excited to see this:

Let's just say this overworked Momma is really looking forward to that little treat.

The icing on the cake was Lovie and Baby Sister's red roses and the sweet card they both signed.

The penmanship alone is enough to make any Mother proud.

But I still hate Valentine's Day.

Pet Peeves 101

Pet Peeve: Tights as Leggings/Pants.

Ladies, ladies, LADIES (!!!). You're killing me. Below outlines not only a pet peeve but a fashion faux pas. Memorize, chant, repeat over and over, make this your mantra, whatever. Just get it in your brain: 

So, what this means is that ... it's NEVER okay to wear tights with a shirt that doesn't cover your ass. Still not getting it? It's NEVER okay to wear tights as leggings with tops that don't cover your ass. In fact, go to your closet. Move the tights out of the "pants" pile. Good. 

I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that the ONLY instance where this is acceptable is if you're a dancer coming or going to dance class. Or if you're Natalie Portman portraying a dancer in a film. That's it. The only time. Otherwise, wear your tights, as they are intended - under dresses or tunics that cover your precious ass. Because when you don't, you see, you take VPL's to a whole. new. level. And it makes me vomit in my mouth. 

Leggings. These are also intended to be worn with shirts, tunics, cardigans, wraps, etc. that cover your hiney. What's especially disgusting, is when you wear thread bear leggings with shirts, sweaters, etc. that don't cover said hiney. And I'm sorry, but that shit ain't right. You're just asking for your husband/boyfriend/sig other to voluntarily throw themselves in front of a moving car. Can you blame them? 

Solution: Just don't do this. Just don't. And if you think you might, invest in a full length mirror. But here's the kicker - you have to actually uuuussssse it. 

Pet Peeve: Wearing Sunglasses Indoors

This one's easy ... 

Solution Part 1: Are you blind? Is your name Stevie Wonder or Ray Charles?

Solution Part 2: Do NOT then opt for Transitions ... cause that's the creepy solution. 

Ummm ... Would we call that, attractive???

You can read every What to Expect When You're blahblahblah book and they will tell you that there's NOTHING more beautiful and precious and desirable than being pregnant. And that everything is glorious about it eeeven if you're throwing up your life every morning. It's fine. Means the babe is healthy.

Well. Guess what's NOT attractive? Blood shot eyes + trying not to purge at work + drinking lukewarm water = I feel sooo beautiful!!

I've gone ahead and put together a list of some other "attractive" qualities in pregnancy.


Dinner Plates. - Cause we all aspire for our areolas to look like this:

Actual size during pregnancy.

Oh, and what's that? It's because the baby needs to able to see them when they're breast feeding. Awesome. Cause I'm pretty sure s/he could SEE them through a bra AND a black shirt. From a mile away. Just saying.

WARNING: Wide Load. - No matter how cute you are in the front. Turn around and take a peek at that rear ... 

Actual reaction.

A literal "OMG." But I don't think one exclamation point is enough.

Pizza. - I'm hungry ... for your face. Which looks like a 13 year old boy's or a hearty pepperoni pizza. Loves the acne. That crystal clear skin?? It's a What To Expect When You're Pregnant in Heaven lie. A pregnancy trap lie.

Sexy Can I? - Pit stains? Swamp ass? Hot. Literally. In fact during pregnancy you sweat so much that you start to think you have glandular issue.

Victoria's Secret. - Skinny bitches.

Stop sending me your magazines while I'm pregnant k? And while you're at it. Eat a mayonnaise sandwich. And for the record - my boobs are bigger than your chicken cutlet push up boobs. So. Suck it.

OK, OK that was more of a vent. A totally legit vent.

You'll start showing "sooner" with the second. - Liars!! I've looked like I was 5 months pregnant since the day I took a pregnancy test. How much "sooner" than that does it get?!?

Stoma's. - You're going to immediately be whisked into trach surgery after you deliver from all the heartburn. And nothing says to your husband that you're ready for a little romance like the voice of Stephen Hawking to seduce him.

Yes. Being pregnant is a miracle. But no, it's not pretty. Happy Easter all!!

Fear and Loathing in Suburban Richmond

Fears: Death, spiders, bugs bigger than a crumb, heights without anything around me (i.e. cliffs), weed eaters Loathes: Knives, razor blades, scones, box cutters, washing cars, ironing. Whether these are legitimate or not is another blog. Erstwhile, enjoy this fun story: I'm practically blind you see haha get it, without my glasses or contacts. Without some sort of optical assistance I am a worthless individual - unless you need a blind friend to just sit somewhere for a few hours. Yesterday, I am in the bathroom without optical assistance. I feel something down at my foot. It's a black mass. I immediately think it's a spider. So. I panic and with my big toe slide/violently kick, it out of the way. OUCH. *(^&?> *&?>!@!D#!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Glasses go on. Aw F an A! That wasn't a spider. It was my razor! And now the bottom of my big toe is missing its top layer of skin. Fannnntastic. Moral of that story: I need lasik. Here's another fun story: This is a picture of two of my most favorite people in the world. Jec-Jec and Jason they are brother and sister. As you can tell from the picture, these kids know how to have a good time. And as children they knew how to have a good time with knives. Yes. Very sharp knives. As a kid I was pretty much afraid of EVERYTHING. I was a total mini-momjeans. I even had the momjean glasses. No, I am not going to scan a picture of THAT. So, I was over playing at their house which was right next door to mines and getting ready to leave when they started taunting me with knives. "OOh are you afraid of this?" they'd say. "Yes! *loud scream*!" I'd reply. This little charade lasted a few more minutes until I bolted for the door. I think they chased/taunted me with knives pretty much every day for like a week long period. Until one day Jason started taunting Jec-Jec and then it wasn't so funny anymore. Moral of that story: If you want a salad with CHOPPED anything in it. You can make it yuns self!