It’s freezing. I’m saying -30 degrees celsius all week. That makes it terrifyingly cold and hard to take outfit shots. It becomes a game to see what will freeze first – me or my camera. So I curled up in bed to read my Firefly Celebration Book. Nothing left to do but spend the day in bed with some of my favorite men…. Nathan Fillion, Alan Tudyk, Joss Whedon, and of course Drake the Dog.
It’s a hard knock life.
Remember when I told you we’re firmly in that “Why” stage? Well, it’s truly and firmly engraved. Changing her diaper while she was sleeping, I rolled her over and she ejected a spontaneous “why?!” in her sleep.
I whispered, “Because it stinks.”
Pretty sure she didn’t hear me though.
It’s morning, we’re both in our fluffy, fleece PJs, and Baby Girl says to me, “Go work on your commuter, Mama.”
‘Okay!” I don’t often get toddler allowed time to be by myself, and not distracted or hounded for attention, so this is something I don’t ask twice about. Off I go into the other room, where I can work and still see half the living room in which she’s watching Blue’s Clues.
I check email. I respond to a few things. Read a few things. etc. Suddenly I realize it’s been really quiet. Very quiet. That ‘I-Know-You’re-Up-To-No-Good’ quiet. My mommy senses are tingling. So I leave the safety of my computer and slowly creep into the next room.
Cautiously peeking around the corner, I see:
Baby Girl sitting in her underwear, PJs torn off and cast aside, munching on a pickle.
Andrew turns to Baby Girl and asks, “What would you like in your carrot muffins? Pineapple or raisin?”
She answers, “Carrots!”
He asks,”Yes, but pineapple or raisins?”
“Carrots!”
“You want carrots in your carrot muffins?”
“Yes, Da-ddy!” she replies rather irritated now that he’s asking such an obvious question.
You obviously put carrots, else they would not be carrot muffins. Geez, Dads apparently have a lot of learning to do.
Instead of my regular post I’m writing a cry for help today. I’m
serious. I’m being held hostage. She’s short, and blond, and has a bit
of a lisp. She also sucks her thumb and can currently be found wearing
a bright blue and pink fairy costume. Call for help.
She
makes me build blocks endlessly, and dance and twirl until I can’t take
it anymore. I think she might be a little sadistic too since she
smiles and giggles as I twirl or build again despite my momentary
resistance.
And that’s another matter. I have no resistance. I build and twirl and dance on command as she laughs. Laughs I tell you.
Call Child Protective Services please. I’m desperate. They protect you from children right??
Odd. Quirky. Smart. Sassy. Opinionated. Dramatic. Sarcastic. Yes. But not ‘sexy.’ Not classically, not in the way you usually think. Which is fine with me. But I’m still a woman, which means I love me some nice undies – some soft, silky lingerie. So when Adore Me approached me I was happy to learn that they carry a varied selection at respectable prices. What’s better is that they also carry rare sizes – which I am, and therefore can not shop at most chain intimates stores.
I selected the Cassaddee set for myself. It was the right combo of comfort and sexiness I was aiming for. Great for everyday, but still a little sexy in it to make you feel special. Then of course, came the photoshoot for it. I didn’t know how in the heck I could pull off a lingerie shoot.
I think I managed pretty well.
What? Did you expect to see photos of me wearing the bottoms too and making ‘sexy face’? Not likely.
Oh, okay. Fine. Here you go…..
Did I do that wrong?
You’ll just have to do better then. But first, why don’t you win your own special intimate. Enter via the rafflecopter widget.
Two hours. Two hours that I could’ve spent running, then having a massage. Two hours I could’ve been curled up with my favorite book. Two hours I could’ve gone shopping, or had lunch with some girlfirends and laughed.
Nope. Instead, it was two hours spent trudging through fabric stores. Two hours spent rubbing fabric after fabric on my cheek to test it’s softness and silkiness. Two hours spent cursing at the weather, and got hungrier in search of the elusive fabric. Two hours.
Those two hours I could’ve watched a movie, drank wine, and had my feet rubbed. No, instead I spent two hours going from store to store to find the perfect fabric to patch up that 23 year old piece of scrap blankie because some short blond girl looked at me with sad, puppy dog eyes and said, “Mommy, oh no! My blankie has a hole.”
What I wouldn’t do for her.
Social Media. Yeah, I’m talkin’ about that today. It used to be that twitter was for trying to be the wittiest possible. The game was, “How profound can you be in 140 characters?” It used to be that.
Now, now it’s a freakin’ ad whore. *sorry Grandma. Wait, what am I apologizing for? My Grandma has a fouler mouth then I* Yup, I used that term, and I meant it. It seems that every tweet I read is about this giveaway, or that review, or this product. I get it. Everyone’s making money off these reviews, and giveaways *don’t get me started on how many are illegal!*. But really? Can we not all temper it a bit? Can it not be every single effin’ tweet that I read?
All you fellow fashion and beauty bloggers, can we please regain a sense of decorum? I would love it if everyone used a bit of self restraint. Please let’s all go back to political discussions and profound thoughts in 140 characters or less. Sure, fine, squeeze in that review or giveaway tweet. Fine, I get it. It’s all about promotion. But I would really enjoy a little substance with my superficiality. All I’m asking is that not every other tweet be about the review, or giveaway. Can we at least manage every fourth tweet? Is it really too much to ask?
If I met you on the street you wouldn’t talk to me with ads and shameless self-promotion would you? If you did, I might punch you….or I might dream about punching you and simply walk away while you’re mid sentence. So let’s bring back a little of that human sincerity into social media. Can we all just do that? Is that okay? By the way, read my review of “Human Sincerity” and enter the giveaway too.
These boots? Super clearance. I’m talkin’ the final, final clearance. The sweater? Same thing. Bought it in late spring tucked away in the back of the boutique with the final, final, final markdowns. The Jeans? Ditto. Clearance. Same goes for the necklace. The only thing that wasn’t clearance was the shirt, which was a gift.
I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it time and time again – thank you all for hatin’ on the things I love…..’cause that means I get ’em cheap.
*side note: I had a totally different post lined up, but when I started going through the pictures, I laughed when I saw that everything here was on the final final clearance when I bought it.*
Not only did Drake the Dog have to suffer the indecency of a bath, but then he couldn’t even freak out without baby girl jumping all over him.
I tell ya, life as a dog is rough in this house.
