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Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

When I ever heard someone say “Human life is such a miracle!” I always thought it was such garbage. It, in my old opinion, was not a miracle; it was biology. It also happens to be biology that many people suffer from post partum depression, so biology failed me! Anyway.

Think about it for a second. You start out as two-one half cells. The egg is Part One and the sperm is Part Two. You can’t have a baby without one or the other, and each is only half. And to think, from those two half-ready cells joining in holy matrimony comes a zygote. That’s a real word. It’s actually the word for the full cell made when the egg and sperm decide to join. After that, when it starts splitting, it’s called cleavage and then there’s all kinds of mitosis going on. It’s actually very interesting.

Tonight I sat in the bath with my fat cheeked son and I watched him pick up a cup for water and a rubber duck. He came from two half cells. This little human with his sweet auburn hair, brown eyes, delicious squishy legs and a perfect gummy smile started out as an eensy weensie pair of cells from both of his parents.

I’m sure this all sounds very cliche, but I have a hard time wrapping my mind around it. Sure, technically I can absolutely see it. The cells join and then they split and keep splitting into a human. The emotional part of me, however, is really amazed by this happening. By the fact that somehow, despite everything that could have gone wrong, he came out perfect*.

*yes, he has his joined toe thing, but c’mon. So minor in the grand scheme of things.

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

I got on here, looked around even, and couldn’t think of a single thing to post. I’m being serious! the day wasn’t overly eventful, nor was it so dreary and dull that there truly wasn’t anything to write about.

I spent a lovely day with my son. We played, ate, and I made something new for myself, because I’ve wanted it for a long time. Terrible photos, may I add, but still!

This is the diaper bag that I created. I used a tutorial from Sew Much Ado because I really liked their end result. Because I’m not very good when it comes to reading other’s directions, I did have a hard time with it. However, I do not fault the author of this pattern: it was absolutely me.

I didn’t have any interfacing for this project, which is why it’s ended up a bit on the soft side. Works for me, though. I ended up using an old starchy bed sheet as my fake interfacing, which worked quite nicely, but it didn’t make the fabric “stand up” like it needed to. If you want to try sewing this pattern, I strongly suggest using INTERFACING.

I had this fabric for I don’t even know how long. My mom bought it off of eBay for me quite some time ago, and as odd as it sounds, I didn’t want to use it because I like it so much. I know, if I like it I should make something out of it, right? Not so. I was afraid of wrecking it and wasting the fabric, so it’s been carefully folded away in my work closet for several months. Isn’t it cute? I’m glad this project turned out because if it hadn’t, I’d be heart broken.

This bag took me a LONG time to complete. I attribute this to the fact that I abandoned the instructions not long after I had cut out all my fabric. I had to put things together to figure out how they went. And the elastic took me forEVER to get sewn in. Elastic and I just do not find common ground.

Anyway, when everything’s all said and done, I am very happy with the end result and I can fit 564896 more things in there than I can with my original diaper bag. Sorry Diaper Dude…you just don’t have enough compartments for me.

Next on my list of stuff to make is a small little diaper wristlet. I still need to find a pattern that I like for the occasion.

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

Click the item picture to be taken to the shopping page.

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

This is probably going to seem like an odd choice of topic, but hear me out

In the past week, I’ve had four separate people call Cary a girl. Two were after they had heard his name, while we were waiting for our nurse to come and administer his six month (a month and a day late) shots. I think whey they heard his name they though “Carrie” and not “Cary” or even “Kerry”.

He doesn’t look like a girl, though.

Rebecca @ GGC wrote about this very topic, and I thought it was funny. I even wondered why mothers went so crazy when someone identified their children by the wrong gender.

Then it happened to me. Not so funny anymore. It truly is different when the stiletto is on the other foot.

I had first read of a couple keeping their child’s gender a secret. they were from Sweden, so I thought it was maybe a cultural thing, but now I fully appreciate the validity of their experiment, except I pity the poor child if it is a boy, for they make “it” wear dresses. Anyway.

Maybe he does look like a girl and I’m just completely and utterly blind to it.

I just imagined, though, when he’s dressed in “boy” clothes, like khaki overalls, blue jeans and sweaters sans flowers, bumblebees and Tinkerbell, that it would be a little more obvious.

How do you come back to people who say “she’s so cute!” when it’s a boy, or “Isn’t that a darling little boy?” to your daughters? Have you ever been rude about it (I will admit, once I was extremely short with someone and said “HE” very emphatically…but that was like the third person that day to mistake my son as my daughter)? Do you have any good come backs for this? Is there any way, other than me crocheting him a hat that says “I HAVE A PENIS” that will let people know? Finally: how do you stop caring about it!?

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

some random tweets I thought were super hilarious and/or awesome.

• isweatbutter I just drove past the movie theater… The smell of moist vagina was emanating from the long-ass line. #vampiresarelame
• unmarketing My apologies for saying Edward dies at end of New Moon, it was a joke. It was actually Bella who died (spoiler alert)
• shitmydadsays “Oh please, you practically invented lazy. People should have to call you and ask for the rights to lazy before they use it.”
• dadgonemad New Term: “Twitter Crickets” — What it sounds like when you write a tweet that no one thinks is funny or worth responding to.
• ruthakers Never fails I take my pants off get comfortable on the couch & SOMEONE at Sears has to be all “I’m going to ask you nicely to please leave”
• xmyaimistrue I have two pairs of jeans. One pair has rhinestones on the butt. The other has two holes worn in it. You can see why im in crisis mode.

If you’re on twitter, find one of the best tweets you’ve seen all week and post it here! Then I will follow them endlessly.

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

SPOILERS ABOUND

Okay, so I never understood the whole “Edward Cullen is so hot!” nonsense. And then I found this book on sale for eight dollars (really? Already?) and said, “Sure! I’m broke, let’s spend eight bucks.” So I did.

I read this whole book in two days. It will probably take me that long to express what I found wrong/weird in the book.

Bella Swan. The name itself is lame because it means, to me, someone who is both beautiful and graceful. We find in the book that she finds herself neither beautiful, and definitely not graceful, though her male classmates, even at seventeen, find her positively irresistible and can’t think of anything better to do with her than to be really nice to her. I haven’t been out of high school that long but I can tell you for absolute CERTAINTY that the guys in my high school were not nice like that. If they wanted something, they were nice. Other than that, they were gross, vulgar, farted a lot and in one case, whacked off in particularly boring Bio 30 classes. Don’t get me wrong, I love boys, but at the time I thought they were just HIDEOUS personality wise…except for one guy. Anyway.

Bella always seems so confounded with the world. Is she stupid as well as clumsy? Has she suffered numerous concussions and likely a self-induced frontal lobotomy? I wasn’t even considered a cute girl in high school and I have more sense and confidence than this character! The only thing that the author got right was the mood swings. Wait, did I say she got that right? I meant wrong – unless Bella Swan is currently, and unexpectedly, pregnant. That would be cause for pouting, dizzying highs and incredible lows. As well as wanting to be attached at the groin with a guy she’s known all of a few weeks. I can kind of see that, but after he was so mean to her, why would she pursue him? Is it her stupidity or her clumsiness?

Then we get to Edward. Oh Edward Cullen, you awesome romantic bastard. It’s so nice that you’re so tense around her! And I can’t believe that you were such a big person and would constantly get angry with her! I’m sure that the brooding moodiness is something sought out by girls who don’t have a clue about what men can do with themselves think that this is awesome, but let me tell you what – IT’S NOT. You’re a big boy at seventeen: get over your shit and grow up. And it’s not even that! The dude’s like, a hundred and eight years old and he STILL acts like some sulky, emo, ridiculous baby that needs to be preened and petted: though the preening and petting doesn’t actually happen. His moodswings were enough to drive me insane. YOU ARE A MAN. ACT LIKE ONE.

He is not romantic. He is not even kind of nice. Edward Cullen, is a jackass douche bag. I don’t even care if he was a vampire, if he acted like that around me he would have had his ass kicked. He is not some amazing tortured soul: he is a bonafide, 100%, absolute DINK face. The fact that Bella just lets him do that to her makes me want to vomit. I know you’re a chick, but GROW A PAIR.

You know the scene where they enter the meadow on the warm, sunny day and Edward’s veins run with glitter? Why couldn’t it have been something much more simple like he DIDN’T HAVE A SHADOW? Apparently Vampires do not have reflections when viewed in a mirror, nor do they appear in photographs. How dumb do you think people are that they might not notice that their friend doesn’t have a shadow on a sunny day? That’s a perfectly “logical” vampiric explanation, but instead we are subjected to Edward: The Man Who Came From The Gay Sun, now with 50% more sparkle.

Maybe Meyer was trying to portray that because he was all full of sparkle that he wasn’t a bad guy: what bad guys do you know that are all fun and glittery, glowing from within? Not exactly a good way to give your reader this message, but whatever.

Then there’s the writing style. I am not going to sit here and pretend that I am any type of author or editor, but COME ON. You do not start sentences with “But…”, unless someone has trailed off with “…but….” and the next person says “But what?” You know when I learned this? When I was approximately fourteen years old in English 9! I can’t believe her editor let her get away with this.

I can sort of understand why little girls like this book. The boys that they have to deal with (with all the cooties, and the fact that they are pressured into having sex at such young ages these days) are opposite of Edward. Edward keeps to himself. He doesn’t try to get anything from Bella. He plays nicely with her…I guess. It’s just that he’s kind of a weenie, but if that’s all you have to deal with then okay!

Young females need stronger role models these days. So what if Edward wasn’t pressuring Ms Swan into a little pole polishing? It does not excuse the fact that he was acting like such an immature little douche bag. He is not a tortured soul. He is a dink.

I have had crushes as much as any girl. I’ve had crushes on the bad boys (hello, Marky Mark circa Calvin Klein – you were no prince), and wanted to be with guys that probably were not right for me, but I did eventually realize it. I even dated a guy that actually reminds me of Edward in many ways. The moodiness. The pale skin (why am I attracted to these pasty guys?), the weird things he’d say and do. I thought he was awesome, though, until I found out he was feeling up his old girlfriend behind closed doors. Being hurt like that shed a lot of light on the person he was, and I had to make a decision about what I wanted.

You have to learn that in life, there’s no denying it. If you’re idolizing women, though, that are weak and think that it’s okay to take someone’s mental abuse, that’s not okay. That is not setting yourself up for anything other than trouble later on in life.

I could go on, but I’ve written too much as it is and I am not going to read any more of these books.

To summarize: GOOD STORY. BAD EXECUTION.

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

I know that there are absolutely scads of people who are going to disagree with me about my choice of “ugly” actor, but just hear me out. Ed Westwick is a monkey.

I have a very strong affinity for men with well-cut lips. For example, Clive Owen has great lips. Paul Newman, in his younger days, has the epitome of perfectly chiseled lips. Ed Westwick has thin, weird, ape-like lips that do not look good for anything except smoking. Cigarettes, people. They also do not look all that much different from his face. I’m sure that with a little lip liner and some proper lipstick, his lips COULD look lush, full, and perfect. Though as of where I’m sitting, they so don’t.

Another thing I find positively exquisite on men are cheekbones-matching-hanes. The hanes, on a man, are not his underwear, but that oh-so-delicious feature of their hip bones, the muscling and how it points to that perfect V shape. Click on the “hanes” link and the one I;m talking about is something else I dislike and find goofy looking (plus I have a strong suspicion this his muscles and hanes are PAINTED ON), Rob Pattinson. James Franco is probably my favourite guy with this because, ladies, he matches. his math is GOOD. anyway, that’s not what we’re here about. Ed Westwick has these utterly fabulous cheekbones that I would love to steal for myself. I have not seen him without a shirt, so I don’t know if he has good math or not, but Lordy…I do love me some Ed Westwick cheekbones.

All in all, Ed Westwick is the kind of guy that I don’t find attractive at all, even though he possesses many of the things that I like looking at in the opposite sex. the lips, the eyes, the manly looking brow…they’re all present, and yet I find him mildly grotesque.

However, watching him as Chuck Bass on Gossip Girl is what makes me very happy to watch the show. Maybe it’s his character, I don’t know. I don’t even know if he’s a particularly good actor, but I am so wrapped up in that horrible little boy’s life on that show I am embarrassed to let anyone know.

And that, my friends, is the Actor that I love even though I probably wouldn’t give him a second glance on the street.

Just so you know, I looked up a lot of REALLY hot guys to write this article. Marky Mark, James Franco, Clive Owen. Mmm. I’m all OD’ed on hot boys. And then I have to wait for my husband to get home who is, to me, the most beautiful creature ALIVE. Know why? He’s got the lips. For real. He’s just so perfect, and kissable, and sweet.

I just want to say, you don’t need to point out that I have got some REALLY weird taste in guys: I am very well aware of that. I mean, I went from David Beckham to Puff Daddy. the two could not be LESS alike one another, and yet, I find them both exquisite examples of the males of this species. While I know Richie is not David Beckham or Sean Combs, I think he’s still so amazing and good looking and wonderful.

Doesn’t matter if you don’t agree you don’t have to be married to Rich. You can go marry Ed Westwick, the monkey that I find hot-but-not.

Yeah, I looked at too many hot guys already today.

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

ˈmɛlənˌkɒli/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [mel-uhn-kol-ee] Show IPA noun, plural -chol⋅ies, adjective
–noun
1. a gloomy state of mind, esp. when habitual or prolonged; depression.
2. sober thoughtfulness; pensiveness.
3. Archaic.
a. the condition of having too much black bile, considered in ancient and medieval medicine to cause gloominess and depression.
b. black bile.
–adjective
4. affected with, characterized by, or showing melancholy; mournful; depressed: a melancholy mood.
5. causing melancholy or sadness; saddening: a melancholy occasion.
6. soberly thoughtful; pensive.

I’m sitting here, a book on one side, a pen on the other.
Another piece of paper folded into a pattern.
And I wonder.
Then I stop wondering. I make myself feel better.

The little monkey jumps in his jolly jumper, and I look forward to tomorrow. Because tomorrow is bright. It will be warm. And it will be a good day.

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

bleak.
dark.
quiet.

sad.

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

Dear Cary,

Are you really seven months old already? It seems like hardly any time ago I was fretting about you not fitting so well into your newborn diapers. and wondering what on earth I was going to do with this seven pound human being.

You’ve blossomed into the sweet, loving little boy I have now.

Over the last month you enjoyed your very first Halloween. This heralded the beginning of your tastes for candy and sweet things. If you see either one of your parents with pop, ice cream or a sucker, you are screaming and reaching out toward us in a desperate attempt for a taste yourself. What were we thinking letting you have that? and by “letting you have that”, you know that you don’t get more than a tongue’s taste. It seems to be enough to satisfy your eensy taste buds, though.

Speaking of taste buds, your new favourite food is prunes. Which goes in looking about the same as it comes out. In the food department we’ve kind of had a reversal. You’ve decided you don’t like anything, save prunes and pears, that I put in front of you. You will taste anything once, but other than that, no go. You will not be forced to eat anything you don’t want to you, and you let me know VEHEMENTLY. Cary, love, you are also so insistent that you feed yourself already, that you have to be fed with two spoons. One for you and one for me.

Another item that you’ve come to crave with the utmost desire is the jolly jumper. Yours is shaped like a red airplane and you love to be in it. You jump and jump and jump on those fat little legs, squawking at the dogs, cats, and anyone who gets too close to the thing. Like Porsche is really going to want to take you out of there. You’ve also been jumping in your exersaucer so much that I’ve had to raise it up a level already, lest you jump right out of it.

Not long ago you used up the last of your size two diapers. I didn’t feel as sad about this one, though, because that means you are just that much closer to wiping your own butt.

While you have the craziest hobo-looking hair I’ve ever seen, your father does not permit me to cut it to make it look like you are not currently suffering from a severe mental illness that renders you useless in society and living under a bridge on a discarded mattress. To add to this splendor, you also have not a single tooth in your head. Well, that’s not entirely true. You have teeth: they just have a crippling shyness.

Lately whilst on your belly, you are able to raise your hind end up with your knees. The kid who won’t roll is ready to start crawling. I was desperately hoping you would remain on your lazy train of life and not crawl until you were a year old. However, your “crawling” form is so spastic I doubt you’re going to be going anywhere for a while.

You talk like a deranged mental patient and most of the time it’s hilarious. Unless you want Shylo’s attention. Then it’s borderline psychotic and the volume is deafening. DEAFENING. After said screeching happens, your father and I hobble around like aged humans in our glasses and slippers, sitting uncomfortably close to one another so we can yell and say “eh?” to one another because WE CAN NO LONGER HEAR.

All that being said, you have to be the cutest little creature I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’m not completely biased; everyone who sees you says the same thing. Unless they’re just being nice. But that’s okay. We can all just pretend that you are the most wonderful little guy in the world.

Love,
Mama.

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

I just want to give a shout out to some of the sites that I regularly visit because they are awesome and provide me with hours worth of projects, things to do, and inspiration to keep my life in order

Josephine Kimberling</p>

Sewing Stars

Supayana

U-handblog

Unclutterer

Whip up

burda style
Ravelry
All Mighty
Sew Fussy

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

For the gift-giving season, I’m going to give you some ideas of what to buy some of the special people in your lives, revolving around if they are new moms, going to be new moms, or babies. Today I’m going to give you some ideas on what to buy new mothers.

New mothers know exactly how hectic a brand new baby can be. Help their lives become more zen-like with books about mommy & baby yoga, such as Yoga Mommy, Buddha Baby.

Flip Ultra Camcorder 2nd Generation, 120 Minutes Capture all the first moments of your new baby’s life with the Flip camcorder. Simple, light weight, and with the ability to fit into your pocket, this is a great spur-of-the-moment camera! It’s also at the lower end of the price scale for a quality recorder, so there’s no need to break the bank.

Canon EOS Rebel T1i 15.1 MP CMOS Digital SLR Camera At the higher end of our price scale is the newest from Canon. This digital SLR camera now comes with high quality video as well, so you can capture all of your still and moving moments with your little one.

Moby Wrap Original 100% Cotton Solid Baby Carrier As much as some people love their strollers, there is a time and a place for baby slings and wraps. Ever gone to a craft fair and been completely unable to move? You think it’s easy to maneuver a stroller in a place like that? Think again. Give your new mommies another option of baby carrying with something like a Moby wrap, a Mei Tai or a Baby Hawk so their little ones can still be secure and safe, and leave mom’s hands free to browse, carry, and partake in the day’s activities.

Milk Chocolate Coated Hazelnuts from Bernard Callebeaut Give the gift of chocolate: a perfect treat for the stressed out girl who just needs five minutes to herself. This particular variety of chocolate heralds from Belgium by way of Calgary, Alberta. I can personally attest, that even as a person who does not care for chocolate, this stuff is a bite of heaven.

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

These are some things I either know or have recently read up on regarding thirteen, in honour of the day!

1. there is a popular series of movies starring Jason Voorhees, known as Friday the Thirteenth. Principal photography wrapped on Friday, June 13, 2008. Additionally, the American theatrical release date was Friday, February 13, 2009, for the 2009 version that is
2. The roman numeral for thirteen is XIII (ten-one-one-one)
3. There were actually thirteen participants in the Last Supper. Judas Iscariot, the one who betrayed Jesus, is the thirteenth attendant.
4. In the Jewish faith, boys and girls get to have a bar or bat mitzvah when they turn thirteen, or become a man or woman.
5. Triskaidekaphobia is the fear of the number thirteen.
6. While thirteen is seen as bad, often it’s not. For example, a baker’s dozen contains thirteen items. In 13th century England, bakers could be severely punished if they were found short changing their customers. Thus, they included the thirteenth item to “prove” that their customers were receiving as much as the baker themselves.
7. Apollo 13 was the only unsuccessful mission to get humans to the moon in the US.
8. Many sky scrapers do not have a thirteenth floor; the number is either omitted (making the 14th floor the real thirteenth floor), or it is a service floor where the general public cannot access.
9. Treize (trez) is how to say “thirteen” in French.
10. Thirteen is a prime number, meaning it cannot be divided by anything other than itself and the number one.
11. On a rugby team, there are thirteen players.
12. In the 18th century, the British ship HMS Friday was launched on a Friday, the 13th. The the captain was a man named Jim Friday. The ship was never seen nor heard from again.
13. Thirteen for dinner? Not in France. A party of thirteen can hire a professional quatorzieme, a fourteenth person, from an agency.

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

I’ve been twenty five for all of, what, two weeks? For some reason I totally feel like I’ve been just floating around for (twenty) two weeks. Not doing anything. Being a bum. I really do feel a compulsion to finally get my life in proper order; not Claudia order.

Last year I bought a Moleskine planner and a regular notebook. I love that thing. Like LOVE. But I don’t use it to it’s fullest potential. I keep about a million lists, but no real “good” ones. I don’t keep track of stuff that I’d like to accomplish, or that I need to remember to do. Go check out some lists you should keep, even if you’re Moleskine-free.

Last night, after making my weekly “crap to do” list, I realized that I need a much better system. I searched for I’d say about three hours for even just a chart that I liked, or one that I liked the idea of, but could copy over and make it a better style for our household. I turned up pretty empty after all of that. Then I remember something that Ms Jessica had at Balancing Everything. This amazing, truly great idea for chores, called a Chore Ticket Board. How much in love am I with these? I’m sure you can imagine. So I want to work on that.

I’ve been checking out the Unclutterer regularly, too, to see if there’s anything I can do that might smarten me up and get things around me more organized. Like my shameful-looking office closet right now. I am too embarrassed to even post pictures of it; it’s that bad. It’s so unhelpful in there, that I haven’t been sewing hardly anything as of late. I don’t know why; I love doing the sewing. I just can’t seem to get all my stuff together to fix it all up and get it in better working order.

I was never organized as a child or teen, so I feel like I’m branching out into new territory. It’s kind of scary and strange to me. Do you have any tips for keeping your life in general organized? Anything you wish you could keep organized but just can’t seem to do it? It’s totally my desk

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

So I posted this picture up a couple of days ago on Flickr which was supposed to be for WAHM-Drobe but I didn’t get it posted on the right day. Yeah. So anyway. I didn’t think I looked all that spectacular in it (yes, I know, I know, I did have a baby and it doesn’t look like it to anyone else much, but I TOTALLY SEE IT!).

I have been so beyond horrific when it comes to looking after myself lately. Like TERRIBLE. Today I did the worst thing I get into the habit of: not eating. I didn’t eat a thing until dinner, at around seven tonight, and it was chicken burger from Wendy’s, with fries and a coke. I’d like to say it was good, but it wasn’t. I was just so starving I’d probably have eaten cat food if that’s all there was to eat.

Oh yes, and I had four cups of tea today, too.

Winter is a hard time of year, for me. It always has been. The produce costs a fortune and I’d like to just spend time sleeping until Spring comes back again.

I know in the end, the only person I let down is myself. And I take it pretty hard.

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

Clothes

• Baby pants
• Sundress
• Peasant Top
• Baby Toque
• Toddler beanie with flower

Toys

• Knitted Elephant
• Tagged Toys
• Stuffed piglet
• Touch & Feel play mat

Care

• Deck out baby wipe containers
• Washcloth
• Natural baby bath

Miscellaneous

• Basic Mei Tai
• Quilted Diaper Bag
• Simple tote

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

I know it’s weird to post that you’ve had a boring day, but I totally did. I was nearly dying of boredom.

Cary got me up at seven thirty this morning. Which isn’t bad – he’s still not used to the time change, but I don’t actually mind: I need to get up earlier than I have been, so this is actually the most perfect excuse in the world to get up.

Do you know how much is on at seven thirty on a Saturday morning? Nothing. Yeah, even with my bazillion channels from Bell, there is absolutely nothing to watch (actually, TV in general has nothing to watch on TV these days).

So I decided to do some cleaning. I am so in a Monica mood right now. We’re talking borderline obsessed right now. FYI: not pregnant.

Okay, so anyway, after the whole cleaning up and waiting for my hung-over husband to get up (different story, another day) I laid around and waited. And watched some really lame shows on the DIY network. And waited. And then Shane came over. Then we went to Home Depot. Then we bugged my mother in law at her house, THE END.

Today does not mark my best of days lived awesomely. I think I’ll just forget about it.

I don’t like not having anything to do. Makes me feel lazy.

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

So this week we’re supposed to talk about our jobs. But I’m going to do something a little different and not talk about my job or my workplace or any venting surrounding therein.

See, a long long time ago I stumbled upon this curious word: dooced. And then I found out about this girl, Ellen, who was fired for the content of her blog. For a while, it didn’t really scare me all that much because I figured no one out there in cyberspace was going to connect me to the real life me sitting in front of them. Stupid.

I made the mistake of writing a few number of blog posts while at work. And my coworker saw me do this.

It was then it finally dawned on me that I was an idiot and that I needed to quit it. Which is when I pulled everything I could find about myself, publicly, online off, and moved over to Vox.com. I was able to still blog, “meet” other people and comment. I controlled EVERYTHING people were able to read and comment on. It was about as safe as I could feel online.

I am scared of losing my job over something I’ve written. The farthest I’ll go is to say that I’m struggling with IE6 compatibility or that my style sheets that I’ve written are pure garbage. But other than that – no. No words will come out of my mouth. I’m not going to talk about coworkers. I’m not going to talk about clients. I am not going to talk about anything I’m doing, exactly, only if things aren’t compatible or I’m struggling with a new-fangled concept.

Scared to death of being fired. I don’t want to be fired, especially for something that I can control.

I will say this, though. I’m pretty good at my job.

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

I actually say “crazy” with the utmost respect and love. I really do. I don’t mean crazy in the sense of severe mental illness (though maybe that’s a part of it? I kid, I’m sorry. ) but crazy as in I cannot fathom how you keep your crap together every single day to deal with all of those children.

Today I volunteered to look after several kids at church during bible study. Somehow I got on the sheet twice. I’m kind of regretting it right now, but oh well. I said I would volunteer and I AM GOING TO. Even if it kills me. Or Cary.

So I get in there and there’s just a couple of kids. I stupidly think that it’s going to be easy. HAH! EASY! I try to put Cary down for a second and this little girl comes over and starts looking at him and then petting his face. HARD. So I picked him up, squatted to her level and said she could hug him but it had to be nicely. So she hugged him. And hugged him. And hugged him some more until the poor kid couldn’t breathe. I know she wasn’t doing it to be mean to him: she was just so full of love that she wanted to spread it around.

That was all good and well. And then some more kids came. In all there was nine plus Care-bear. To say I felt overwhelmed is an understatement. There was another lady in there, too, who is in every single week. I don’t know how she does it. Is that ever a taxing job. You have to try to watch all the kids. Which would have been all right if I could have put Cary down for a second, but there was that little girl that would go over and try to pick him up and hug him way too tight. I was seriously afraid she’d drop him or throw him or something if he was ever out of my sight. I think next time I’m going to wear him so I have both hands free to pull the other little ones off of tables, stop them from eating crayons and break up fights over dollies easier than I could with one hand.

I have no idea how people can run day homes. I don’t care HOW much you like kids. You must get to a point where you must just want to snap. And get frustrated.

As horrible as this sounds (I know my limits), but in general, I don’t really like that many kids in one setting. My limit is three. And that’s my absolute limit. Any more than that and I need assistance. It’s not that I fly into a rage with them, or yell at them or anything. I just feel like I don’t have enough hands to deal with anything. Like I can’t do anything what so ever. Bigger kids are okay because they can help out a little bit and they take instruction much easier than little ones.

I send major love and kudos to day care providers and ladies who run day homes. You are far better, more patient, and loving than I am.

It also REALLY puts into perspective how many kids I think we should have. One is lots.

Originally published at diaper bag princess. Please leave any comments there.

Busta Rhymes feat. Estelle: World Go Round

O-Zone: Dragostea Din Tei

Superbus: Lola

MC Solaar: Le Belle et La Bad Boy

Sean Kingston: Face Drop

MGMT: Kids

Europe: The Final Countdown

I like to expose my baby to a plethora of really terrible music.