Inked

Last tax year after baby girl was born, hubby decided that he was going to use part of the income tax return to get a new tattoo. Unfortunately with the new baby it was not responsible to use the money for a tattoo so I promised that this tax return he would get his tattoo!

He like the idea the nurse putting the baby's foot print on a piece of paper or a white tee shirt at the time of delivery, but wanted something a little more permanent.

So on Thursday he finally got inked.

Fresh ink always looks a little red and scabby, but will heal within a week.

Another job well done Peel!

We need to get out!

Since being preggers previous years and now with baby girl in our lives, we don't party much on the long weekends anymore.

This weekend we went over to the garden store and did some work around the house. Baby girl gave us a hand and enjoyed the weather and the time home with us. We were debating going out this evening but hubby preferred to stay in so he started some laundry and I checked my face book. I thought that this was a little boring and we should do something fun with the weekend, but whatever, until hubby got up to get a snack. He comes back to the couch with a bowl of Bran Buds and milk.

me: enjoying the buds
hubby: yep, they're good
me: yeah, not bad
hubby: they keep me regular and I get my daily intake of fiber in this one bowl.
me: looks of horror and then laughter....

Oh my God, What the hell has happened to us? When did the biggest party weekend turn into fibre fest?

TFS

I am going to come right out with it, I have been suffering all day with a serious case of TFS. Yep, Trapped Fart Syndrome!

I had a little rumbling this morning, but there were people in my office and wasn't able to excuse myself. So I sat there and held it. Of course it was uncomfortable, but I had no choice really. I am not completely sure of the logistic of a fart, but the rumbling subsided, although I could still feel the movement and building discomfort. I continued throughout my day and every time this fart tried to resurface I was in a meeting or with people and couldn't leave. The pressure turned into mad bloat and the discomfort, stabbing pain accompanied by the loudest most insane noises. Christ, I need to get into the bathroom and get rid of this before I pass out from pain and while I am down and unconscious rip a ripe one.

Cut to me in the washroom, I am alone, I am in pain and nothing... all rumbling and all urges halted. Of course, maybe if I grab a seat. So now I am in a stall having a little seat waiting for the big release.........waiting..........still waiting.........God Damn It!

Why is it that every time you get into a bathroom all systems fail...complete misfire. So now I have been in the washroom even too long for poop, so I must abandon this mission as I am on film. Yep one of our security cams are located right outside the bathroom and the front desk ladies like to watch it like it's a soap opera.

I open the door take four steps down the hall approaching a group of co-workers and WHAM it's back. Son of a mother. So I spent the rest of the day unsuccessfully trying to rid my body of this fart which by now has multiplied into what feels like a hundred trapped farts.

I practically ran to my car across the parking lot, got in and declared it to be officially the fart mobile. Unfortunately, not so much. I am fearful that they are trapped for good. I really just wish for a giant man fart, come on sweet relief.

Ick...please

I know I am a sanitizing nutter and maybe my OCD has been heightened since having a child, but I am alarmed by the number of people who do not wash their hands!

I am back at work now and this means back to public washrooms...dear God. I have a problem with public washrooms as is, but in the past 4 weeks I have noticed many ladies peeing and fleeing.

Today I was in the washroom and I could clearly hear my stall buddy taking care of monthly feminine business (the wrappers are a give away). I continued on with my own business not thinking about next door, when I heard the toilet flush, the stall door open and the main door open and slam behind her. Ummmm sink, you walk right by them.

So now I am sitting there with my mouth wide open thinking my God, she did not wash her hands. She is now running throughout the building touching everything I might touch with her disgusting little period hands. Go ahead and give everything a lick over too. Oh my God, I could barf just thinking about it. Unfortunately or fortunately I did not get the chance to see if it was someone I worker with or a client. Someone I work with would be worse than a client as I don't touch client common items (pens, counter tops, key boards, phone ick ick ick), but a co-worker....we share everything (fax, copier, cabinet handles, files, Oh God must stop). Not to mention a loss of respect for them. Cut to the next potluck luncheon, little miss period fingers is offering you her handmade meatballs....barf. Oh really, just now a little barf in my mouth!

In case it were the latter, I am secretly running around with a lysol wipes. Oh I am paranoid alright!

For the love of all holy, ladies wash your damn hands. We are women, the more sophisticated and refined of the species. Just one round of happy birthday is as long as it takes.
I beg you I do not have enough time in my day to OCD.

Naked in my kitchen!

This morning I awoke and started my morning routine; shower, dress and get Baby girl ready. I kissed hubby goodbye (still in bed) and made my way down to the kitchen. I was there about 10 minutes when I swung around to find my husband standing there naked in our sun filled kitchen. Our kitchen is not exactly private. I have horizontal blinds on the two windows, but the window on the garden door I keep bare to allow the maximum amount of light stream in. So there's hubby with his twig and berries hanging out for the world, while the young children behind us sit in fear as they eat their wee breakfast.

Me: babe, what the hell?
Him: I coming to feed the dog.
Me: you cannot come down here like this....hello naked
Him: This is how I come down every morning
Me: Oh My GOOODDDDD you are the fat naked guy off of Friends. I am married to that guy.
Him: what, I don't care
ME: clearly!

Needless to say I fed the dog, while I insisted that he stand in the other room with baby girl.
There is only something like forty feet between the neighbours and our house and some of them are on a higher elevation so they have the best seats for hubby's little show.

I wasn't so upset about it when he was doing it in the winter when it is still dark but now it is just inappropriate. I haven't even eaten yet for Christ Sakes. He hears me protest all the time about the neighbour behind us that thinks shirts are optional and that I don't need to be looking at the neighbours freckled back and love handles thanks. Yet here is hubby with his sac blowing in the morning breeze, while he lets the dog out and feeds her.

I especially love when hubby is on call with work (every third week) and he gets calls in the middle of the night. A call from a client requires hubby to use the phone and his laptop and in an attempt to not disturb the sleeping, hubby goes downstairs to work.

So off he goes sneaking downstairs at 4 in the morning, turns on the kitchen light and sits at our glass table with his laptop and phone in hand....naked! I wonder what the hell my neighbour thinks as she peers out the window while she waits for a bottle to heat up for her baby that has woken. To see naked guy on the phone and laptop at 4 am naked and tossing his balls around! She thinks OMG his poor wife!

Yep I forgot to mention, mostly because every woman that knows my husband knows he is the ultimate ball handler. I think it maybe a form of paranoid OCD.

Hubby's inner dialogue:
Have they fallen off? No they can't fall off.
But what if I am missing a nut? No I am sure they are both okay.
I should check, but I am standing in La Senza Girls leaning against a tweenie pantie display and my wife is way over there.... oh man.
(begins to get anxious) I am sure no one will notice if I do a quick inventory of my boys, will they?
Somethings not right though (sweating and bouncing on the spot slightly) They are heating up and beginning to itch. Maybe it's scrote cancer! Ahhh God the itch......AHHH, oh Yeah, that the shit...yep all is good here!

ME: Giving my hubby the death stare as he tosses around a handful of sac, while mothers quickly usher their girls out of the store in horror.

Him: What....

Bend me over, slap my ass and call me Alice

I would like to give a big shout out in thanks to my government for the severe and malicious ass raping I received at the pump this morning. Apparently liquid gold was added to the gas supplies overnight explaining why gas is selling at 108. as oppose to 104.7 last night. Twenty five bucks this morning gave me just under a half tank which is pretty much enough to get me to and from work.

I lower my head in a moment of silence for those poor people in B.C. who woke up to a buck fifty at their pumps this morning…my sympathy goes out to you and your wallets.
If there was ever a time to think about buying a hybrid it would be now!