Sex toys spell disaster

Warning! This blog deals with my sex life and therefor should not be read by anyone. Ever. Seriously. You've been warned.

I need to stop going to sex toy parties. They're turning out to be bad for my health.

I went to my first "toy" party a just a short time ago. I ordered something for myself. (Don't worry, I'll spare you the details.) My stuff came in the mail and not three seconds later I was struck down by a gallbladder attack. Intense abdominal pain and vomiting does not exactly put you in the mood.

I recovered from my gallbladder surgery just in time for my second party. This time I ordered something special for Jesse and I to enjoy on Valentine's Day. (Again, I will spare you the details.) The stuff came in the mail but Jesse and I haven't even been able to enjoy it because we've both been struck with this chest cold/stomach flu from hell. We're so sick that we're barely able summon up the energy to turn and look at each other much less drag our sick clunky bodies close enough together to do the deed.

I've been invited to another party but I'm honestly a little scared to go. What if I attend and three days later my left leg falls off? Or what if my stuff comes in the mail and as I'm bringing it into the house I'm bit by a rabid dog? Do I dare tempt fate? What if this third party is the one that kills me? I don't want to my final words to be "I never even got a chance to use my new ........"

So what should I do? Go or skip it? And if you leave me a comment answering this question I'll know you're a dirty bird who read this post even though I told you not to.

Precious memories

There are moments in parenting that nothing can prepare you for.

The moment your eight year old son walks past you in the hallway swinging his hips, pouting his lips and throatily singing "Santa Baby" is one of them.

"Santa baby, so huuurry down the chimney tooooniiiight....."

Holy crap! I had a baby!

Yikes! I just realized that Litte A is one today. How crazy is that? I guess time flies when you're bitching and moaning about every little thing having fun.

A fun girl to be around

A real conversation with Jesse:

Me: I wish I had more friends.
Jesse: You just need to find a group of people who have the same interests as you.
Me: ......... I wish I had more interests.

Poor Jesse. Whenever I'm feeling lonely he has to try and do his best to prop me up and make me feel better. It's not that I want to be a big sad sack, it's that I don't know what else to do.

How do you make friends when you're an adult? I know it's pathetic that I'm even asking that but I'm serious. I don't work. I didn't go to school here so I can't call up old school friends. I'm horribly shy. I have a hard time doing new things unless I'm with someone I already know and that kind works against the purpose of meeting new people. My previous attempts at meeting people with similar interests and similar lives have been less than successful.

It's not like I have no friends at all. I have a few and I value them very much but I guess I just wish I had more. I wish my evenings had more "I think I'll call up soandso and see if they want to blah blah blah whatever it is people do together" and less "I think I'll see if my brother's on Facebook tonight."

So come on interent people, sitting there in your bathrobe with the Cheetos stain on it, tell me how I make friends! Or else I will be forced to ask Jesse to spend yet another evening rubbing my feet and telling me how awesome I am.

To-got-for

Elle is a talker. She says a lot of things and she says them all the time. It's so fun listineing to her and hearing her launguae develop and change. She's gone from baby talk to talking like a real little person.

Mostly. There are a few left-over baby talk remnants that I'm in no hurry to say goodbye to. They're just so cute.

My favorite thing Elle says is "to-got-for". She says it instead of "forgot to". As in "Mama, you to-got-for get your purse!" Come on! That's adorable! I hope she's still saying it when she's 23.

I don't hold out much hope for that though. The other night Jesse was putting Elle to bed and I heard her say "forgot" at least a half dozen times. (We're a very forgetful folk.)

It's fun to watch all these little changes and it's exciting to see her learn and grow but I can't help but be a little sad sometimes that my baby is not a baby any more. I guess sometimes I just need little reminders to never with the days would pass any faster than they already are and to never to-got-for enjoy each day with my children and the wonderful little people that they are.

I made it there, I can make it anywhere

I am home from New York. They guys were fantastic and I wanted to wrap them in puff pastry and bake them and gobble them up because that's what I do with things that I really love. Like brie.

It appears that the guys like me too because they told the case worker they would like to go forward with me. Woo hoo! I'm matched even though I never got around to getting my eyebrows waxed before we went to meet them. They like me in spite of the two large, friendly mammals that are living on my forehead.

New York is insane and I don't know how anyone lives there. The traffic is nuts, the people are nuts, the buildings are tall and nuts. It was fascinating and a great place to visit but there's no way I would want to live there. Although if you did live there then I guess you could spend a lot of time outside 30 Rock and maybe see Tina Fey and that would make it all worth it. I did not see Tina Fey while I was in New York so that was a little bit of a bummer. She could have walked right in front of me though and I wouldn't have noticed because I was too busy trying to look cool and non-touristy so that no one would approach me with some New Yorker scam and try to do something like sell me "sidewalk pass" or charge me a "breathing tax". It's hard to look cool and non-touristy though when you're standing in the middle of the sidewalk staring up and saying "The buildings are just so tall here! I have to take a picture!" over and over.

Anyway. Back to my main point. I am matched. The guys are great. They already have frozen embryos so there won't be any of this back and forth, waiting eight months to pick an egg donor stuff like last time. Can I get a woot?

No? You guys don't say woot? Fine. I still know you're happy for me.

Try not to miss me too much!

Don't be sad that I'll be gone for a couple of days. I've got a little something to cheer you up. Back when no one was reading me I used this blog to mock people on Hot or Not. You can see all those posts in glorious full-color here. That should hold you over until I get back.

If I die on my trip this will be my last post. What a legacy. If I live I am totally going to do another Hot or Not post.

Glue, acid, hot guys and necklaces

On Thursday Jesse and I will be going to New York to meet my new potential intended fathers (hereafter knows as the PIFs). We'll only be in New York for 24 hours or so and I intend to make the most of it. Rockefeller Plaza is a block or so away from out hotel so I'm going to walk over there first. Then I'm going to hang around outside for a bit and hope that the cast of 30 Rock notices and decides to make me their new best friend. Then I'll get some lunch. That's pretty much it.

What? I'm from a small town! I don't know how to make the most of a big city.

I'm super excited to meet the PIFs. Here's what I can tell you about them:

1. They have a dog.
2. They are smoking hot. No, seriously. It's a good thing they can't create a child together because if they did that child would be so dazzlingly beautiful that it would hurt to look at it.
3. They have a beach house.
4. Their dog is smoking hot. (I think that's because of osmosis. I hope that I'll become smoking hot by being around them too.)
5. Their beach house is not smoking hot but it is totally adorable and it has a pool.
6. They are not famous.

I only mention that last factoid because I was told I might be working with a celebrity couple this time but that didn't pan out because they only wanted a surrogate from California. That's ok. If I worked with a celebrity couple I couldn't say much about the whole thing and that would be hard for me since I like to tell everyone every little detail of my life.

In other news, I made a necklace last night. It was my first attempt at jewelry making. It took me 45 minutes and fell apart as soon as I picked it up. I am made of awesome and crafty.

In yet other news, today Joseph asked me "If poop is the grossest thing in the world, and acid is the most dangerous, would acid made of poop be the grossest most dangerous thing? And are drugs worse for you than poop acid?" Eight year old boys are the greatest.

In a final piece of news, I won some craft glue in a drawing today. (Thank you!) I think I was chosen as a winner* because when I entered I said that if I won I would use the glue to stick my children to the wall. I hope they don't hold me to that though because what I really want to do is use the glue to stick my new necklace directly to my skin. I think that will keep it from falling apart.

*I mistyped "winner" and spellcheck suggested "whiner" and "wiener" as what I meant to spell.