I know, I know, I'm super late today. I'M SLEEPY. And a little lazy. Let's get to it!
No, you guys, I didn't post about the new Mindy Kaling book. I've failed you yet again. Maybe next week? It's 50/50. But click here for some of the most recent posts and get inspired!
I don't know why this makes me laugh so hard, but it does.
Also, CB and I love being scared but I do not like being scared when CB isn't around. Which happened last night and I was CONVINCED (again, this may have happened last time he wasn't home one night) that there was someone hiding in my daughter's closet and I stared at it on the monitor for, no kidding, ten minutes. Did the door move slightly? I thinks so, yeah. Didn't I close it over all the way? Why is it ajar? How do I save my daughter from the very patient monster hiding in her closet without alerting said monster? Solution: sleep on the floor of her room and stare at it from closer range.
Anyway. Watching other people be scared (when it's harmless) makes me laugh. Enjoy!
So we haven't done anything remotely Halloween-y this year because (a) the days are a blur and these damn weekends are flying by too fast! and (b) CB is out of town this weekend and so we didn't get around to carving a pumpkin that he wouldn't even be around to enjoy. Which is a bummer, because we kind of love carving pumpkins each year - and we basically nail it, if I'm being honest.
Also, if we were to do it this year, we would've done this:
This is Mets pitcher Jacob DeGromm. We could've totally done this. But currently my husband is hanging from a ledge because they're down two games in the World Series and we got into a brief argument this morning when I had the news on, they started talking about the Mets, and I wouldn't "accommodate him" by turning it off so he didn't have to watch highlights from when they lost. But I digress.
Anyway, I'm super-excited for Saturday, though, when I'll be putting our daughter in a monkey costume and taking lots of pictures. She doesn't know this is the plan yet, but I'm pretty sure she'll be psyched.
In the meantime, enjoy this throwback post from last Halloween where CB and I demonstrate why we are totally fit to be parents of a person.
All I’ve really got to say is that if we end up making kids half as well as we make pumpkins, this world is in for a treat - there was a lot of high-fiving last night over our teamwork. Though it should be noted that I was never in charge of the carving or cleaning out of the pumpkin guts. The non-carving is just good safety and the pumpkin guts thing is less because it feels like you’re ripping out the insides of your own stomach and more because both of our hands wouldn’t fit into the pumpkin and so I didn’t want to slow down the process...is what I told CB.
Also, I was busy monitoring the status of the pumpkin guts bowl balancing on the edge of the table and not saying anything because I didn’t want to be bossy since CB’s hands were elbow-deep in vegetable goo. But all I kept thinking was “the bowl’s gonna fall, the bowl’s gonna fall.” And so then, when the bowl fell, I felt less concerned for our rug and more content that I was right. Which is something I’m working on, I get it.
However, I believe we’ve narrowed in on why, exactly, the bowl fell in the first place. Someone was distracted by a show that he doesn’t care at all about and thinks is too soap oper-y.
I will acknowledge, though, the lack of Beyonce anywhere in our apartment for the holiday season and it’s a damn shame. One of you faithful blog readers pointed out via Facebook that, while the pumpkin is delightful, it does not at all resemble Mrs. Carter. But when I broached the subject to CB, he didn’t even let me finish the sentence:
CB: “Not happening. We’re not carving a Beyonce pumpkin.”
Me: “Well what if next year we get two?”
CB: “That’s fine, but you’re going to have to do all of the carving for your special pumpkin.”
Me, thinking about it.
Me: “Yeah…just one pumpkin is fine. It might be overkill to have her face lit up every night anyway.”
And then a little bit of my soul died for lying straight to my husband’s face. Because Beyonce’s carved image lit up in our apartment every night is basically my dream come true. So I guess this is what they mean when they say marriage is hard work.
Happy Wednesday, everyone! Did you carve your pumpkins yet??
This week's book is The Kingdom of Ice by Hampton Sides. Check it out! Btw, I love seeing that you guys are going directly to the book blog now for your reading inspiration - if you have any suggestions for books we (I) should be reading and posting about, let me know! In the next few weeks I'll post about the new Mindy Kaling book that I read in the middle of the night when I can't fall asleep after feeding my daughter. It might only be half-accurate as my middle-of-the-night brain doesn't always remember actual facts.
For those of you who don't breathlessly follow me on Facebook (impossible), you may have missed my sort of exciting (but REALLY exciting to me) news earlier in the week - so here goes: Starting in November, you'll be able to read some of my thoughts on being a mom on a new site from Bustle called Romper. Clearly I am qualified to speak to millennials - as their elder statesman - and dole out all sorts of advice because I've got this mom thing DOWN after four months.
But in all sincerity, I'm truly flattered that anyone would want to publish anything I have to say and so I'm pretty excited for this new venture. Plus, I don't have enough going on right now with being a new mom, wife, friend, working full time, and trying to figure out what the phrase "on fleek" means. Though, if I'm being honest, I'm at my best when I'm busier than all hell, and so this should be great! But also, "at my best" doesn't always mean "returns email the same day to people I love" and so for that, I'm sorry all of you people I love!
A hearty shout-out to my friend, Brian, who got this whole ball rolling for me. I also got referred to as someone with "verve," and so basically I went around describing myself that way to CB and friends until they tuned me out.
And most importantly, a shout-out to all of you guys who have been faithful followers and readers of this blog for the last few years. (don't worry, I'm not going anyway, Stories About My Underpants will continue as the sight where I DON'T constantly talk about being a mom!) You guys have always rallied around this little blog and I'm eternally grateful that you let me use you as my outlet for every random thought I have.
So click here to read about this new venture and stay tuned in November when it launches!
And now, the Video of the Week. This is a discovery by CB and I dig it. So I'll share with you so you can dig it, too!
A couple of weeks ago, I wrote a post called “Things I Don’t Understand” and half-joked that I might make it a regular thing on the blog. But now all
joking has been set aside because there are way too many things I don’t understand
to put into one post. So there are two below that have happened in the last 24
hours and happen ALL OF THE TIME. Much to my dismay.
Hitting the Elevator
Button a Whole Bunch. So there are two kinds of these people: the first is
the person who hits the elevator button a ton, even after it’s already lit up. Which
is adjacent to the person who watches pots boil and anxiously checks their
watch and looks for a train that will never arrive. But the second person is
the one that perplexes me more because this person sees you standing there in
front of the elevator and goes over and hits the lit-up-already button. This
confuses me on many levels.
Do you think I’m just standing here staring at the wall
without intentions of going anywhere? Probably not, which leads me to assume
that you think hitting a button twice makes it come faster, making you the
cousin of the above, multiple-hitter. And you both confuse me because I have no
life and spend several minutes each week thinking about you.
Not Silencing Your
Phone While Playing Candy Crush on the Train. To be fair, this can go for
you playing games that aren’t Candy Crush. But you confuse me because we can
all hear you making matches or getting coins or whatever it is that happens in
Candy Crush (truth be told I’ve never played it because I’m busy dominating in
solitaire.) And it’s super-annoying. Hence the obvious, yet subtle, stare-down I
do during the entire ride. It’s the train equivalent to people talking during a
movie and me doing the side head turn to indicate that you’re bugging me.
What I do think is strange about me, though, is that I’ll
turn off my headphones so that I’m more annoyed by your phone game sounds. Why?
Because I like to feed the savage beast, that’s why.
So last year, just prior to our wedding, I blogged about some
wedding vows that didn’t make the cut. Now a year (and two months! CB’s
counting.) later I feel like I need to expand upon those because lately I feel
like maybe you should have to revisit your vows about every 6 months or so.
Keeps you both honest, reminds you about all of the love and romance and open
bar, and pushes you to continue to grow, learn, and not mind-murder one another
when you have a four month old and haven’t slept through the night in we can’t
remember how long.
So here goes:
I promise to try and remember not to remind you about how
you vowed on our wedding day that you wouldn’t leave your dishes on the counter
when the dishwasher is dirty and you could just put them in there instead. I
realize I bring it up, on average, every time you do it. But to be fair, you did make a vow in front of God and
everyone and so I’m basically helping you stay true to your word. You’re
welcome. And also, I promise that the next vow will be less about how you’re
doing something you promised you wouldn’t do.
I promise to try and remember to ask you whatever favor I
need to ask you prior to you sitting
down after being up and doing stuff. I promise that when I say “I’ll pay you a
million dollars if you get me a glass of water,” that I’ll do it three seconds before – and not three seconds after – you sit down to watch the game.
Because I know you’ll get back up and do it, but I’d prefer that you do my
favors without huffing and puffing about how I could’ve asked you twenty
seconds prior to that when you were filling up your own water glass. Jeez.
I promise that I’ll try not to take any more pictures of you
napping on the floor of our daughter’s room after being over-served at a
bachelor party the night before. I don’t, however, promise not to want to do that and also send the
pictures to my parents and friends. Not that I’ve done that in the past or
anything. I’m just trying to think ahead to what might potentially happen if
you were ever to do that.
I promise not to always yell “not it!” when our daughter craps
her pants. To be fair, I hope this happens less as the years go on. But in the
meantime, it happens pretty much always, and I pretty much always smell it as
soon as she deals it out because you have a deviated septum and can’t smell
stuff. And that’s patently unfair. And maybe bad parenting? Definitely bad wifeing,
of that I’m sure.
I promise not to get offended and make you talk about it for
thirty more minutes when you pay me a compliment that sounds kind of like you
were insulting past-Becky. Like when I referred to myself as a sow when I was
pregnant, assuming you’d be like “you were always so beautiful as a pregnant
person with swollen everything.” And instead you said that I don’t look like a
sow at all now.
I promise to try and notice more when you’ve shaved and/or
grown facial hair and/or gotten a haircut. I realize that it probably looks bad
when Beth comments on your four day beard and then I’m like “Oh! Hey! You have a
beard!” Also, I realize that the other day when I said “Did you get a haircut?”
and you hadn’t, and then I asked you if you shaved your neck hairs because
something looked different, that I probably should’ve just said that you looked
handsome. Because then you reminded me how I never notice anything about your appearance.
To which I told you that it’s because I’m blinded by love. To which you told me
that that’s not actually a great answer because I was sort of implying that I
don’t even look at you and/or you look bad but I don’t notice. To which I
responded that you were being a sensitive lady. To which I think you walked
away? I can’t remember. Scandal was
I promise to be more selfless like you are. Yeah, this one
isn’t funny or sarcastic. I just think it’d be nice if I were more like you in
that way because it’s nice and you skootch over on the couch and let me sleep
for nights on end so I can get over my cold and you stay up late and get up
early with our daughter and she smiles at you all lovingly and it’s because you’re
you and she loves you. And so you’re great. Except when you leave your dishes
on the counter when the dishwasher is dirty. Even our adorable daughter can’t
save you then, buddy.
Happy one year and almost two months anniversary! And Happy
Wednesday, everyone! (editor’s note: I’ll be out of town at a good friend’s
wedding this weekend and not Friday Wrapping Up – but there are some new books
on the book blog, so check it out! And I’ll be back next week, so don’t fear.)
My family is nothing if not on-trend, as I'm sure you've been able to tell. And this week's book is no different! With all of this "Mars has water, you guys!" news and the Matt Damon movie premiering this weekend, what is more timely than a review of the book upon which the movie is based: "The Martian" by Andy Weir sounds like a must-read, even though it's kind of sci-fi-y (technical term) and I might have to skim over some of the more dense technological descriptions because I just want to get to where Matt Damon takes his shirt off. Wait....
Anyway, check it out here and then browse around for some other reading inspiration!
Couple things from my commute this morning:
Ok, what's going on here? No, I'm serious - what is this. Is that an umbrella head holder? Why would you need this? WHAT IS HAPPENING? Please explain.
And then there was this dog outside of the coffee shop by my office who just made me laugh. He looked so grumpy, wet, and ready for his owner to come on out.
And I love him.
NO I HAVE NOT FIGURED OUT THAT SONG I HATE. You guys. But I do appreciate the texts, emails, and FB messages trying to help me figure it out. Our friend and neighbor, Olga, randomly just started sending me songs: "Is it LMFAO?" "Is it Flo Rida?" No, but the fact that you're spending any time trying to help me figure this out is the best.
And while our governor has declared a state of emergency in anticipation of the hurricane, I'm declaring a state of emergency in my brain because I MUST FIGURE THIS OUT. And you must help me.
But while we're doing that, let's watch the very obvious Video of the Week. Oh, also, CB says that I do it wrong and it's more like I'm doing "The Swim" from the 1950s rather than the Whip it nae nae or whatever it's called. So I'll have to study this video and try again over the weekend. Perhaps there will be video documentation for next week. You're welcome.
Also, I literally sing this to myself all day. I just keep saying "whip.....nae nae....whip, whip...nae nae." Which I'm pretty sure is getting me a lot of respect at work.
Happy Friday! Happy birthday to my mother-in-law!!! (this is obviously her favorite song.)