and spins and dyes and parents, occasionally works, but is always generally running around like a chicken with her head cut off
Showing posts with label Mother of the Year. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mother of the Year. Show all posts
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Monday, October 29, 2007
Uh oh
Notice: due to the impending arrival of All Hallow's Eve, and the fact that knitting and fiber play have pushed out vital costume construction activities, all fiber-related projects are hereby banned until such time as A) Porpoise has completed one (1) blue monkey costume and one (1) matching purple monkey costume (thankfully in a smaller size), or B) it's Halloween and my kids trick-or-treat nekkid.
Which, given the fact that we are in The South, is maybe not such a bad idea.
PS - Thanks Red Sox!
Which, given the fact that we are in The South, is maybe not such a bad idea.
PS - Thanks Red Sox!
Labels:
Boo,
Devil,
Mother of the Year
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Lactation makes you stupid
I have photographic evidence:
This is my bosom buddy (ha ha!), my trusty Medela Pump In Style (yeah, right) which accompanies me to work everyday so that Boo can get hooter juice while she's whoopin' it up with her buds at daycare.
When properly used, you hook up the bottles to the...what are those things called anyway? But I digress...you hook up the bottles, place the thingamajigs in their proper alignment (use your imagination), and turn the pump on. It does its thing, and lo and behold you collect milk for your little darling.
Unless you're me. In which case, you use this set up:
which results in this:
and the conviction that you are, quite possibly, the most clueless human being alive.
This is my bosom buddy (ha ha!), my trusty Medela Pump In Style (yeah, right) which accompanies me to work everyday so that Boo can get hooter juice while she's whoopin' it up with her buds at daycare.
When properly used, you hook up the bottles to the...what are those things called anyway? But I digress...you hook up the bottles, place the thingamajigs in their proper alignment (use your imagination), and turn the pump on. It does its thing, and lo and behold you collect milk for your little darling.
Unless you're me. In which case, you use this set up:
which results in this:
and the conviction that you are, quite possibly, the most clueless human being alive.
Labels:
life,
Mother of the Year
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