Knees

Nom nom nom.

Holy Crap

I was expecting wicked traffic today, but it was actually pretty righteous. Pope-ey. Pope-tastic even.

Are people really scalping tickets to tomorrow's mass? Really? You've got to be among the faithful to score a ticket in the first place, right? Even if you got away with it, wouldn't God know it wasn't you in that seat?

Are tweener Pontiff fans called Pope-tarts?

Right. Maybe That's Worse.

I have songs from Here Come the 123s - Lumpyhead's current obsession - in my head. All day.

Just when I manage to get rid of one earwig, another pops in. Lumpyhead sings the songs when he's away from the CD or DVD, so I'm just as likely to get his version of the song in my head as the TMBG version. ("Zero ZE-ROH. Zero me so mush . . . ")

I complained about this last night, and Bump looked at me skeptically. "I have to listen to it all day," he said flatly.

Marquis de Lula

Lula loves pictures of babies. She prefers photos of herself, of course, but any baby will do. When we were staying at Aunt Bob's, Lula spent nearly all her time pointing at Aunt Bob's bookshelf of pictures and squealing "Baby!" -- expecting to be brought closer to the delicious pictoral goodness.

We dug out some books featuring pictures of baby faces, books Lumpyhead once liked a lot but has long since ignored. Lula loves them, but particularly enjoys the pages that depict babies crying. She reacts excitedly to the books in general, but when we get to the part where the baby is sad or angry . . . she claps her hands and laughs.

Funny.

Funny.

Absolutely freaking hysterical.

I'd be worried about this, but I'm preoccupied by the fact that Lumpyhead yells "Mama!" while pointing to the picture on this page.

Then he says, "Heinie-butt."

My son thinks I'm an ass.

That, or he thinks it is my ass in the picture, which I guess is an enormous compliment.

Best Chia Pet Ever

Lumpyhead's preschool class grew grass in little pots.

The teacher put the pots in cups with each child's face on it, so on Thursday Lumpyhead brought home his face on a dixie cup with Chia hair.
I think it is the most hysterical thing I have ever seen.

Lumedia

Back during that glorious week when Bump and the tormentors were in Florida and I had a whole weekend to myself -- and it was a long weekend! Three days! Score! -- one of the indulgent things I did was go to the mall. Normally I dislike shopping intensely, but buying bras was on my list of Things I Must Accomplish, so off to the mall I went. I ate a leisurely lunch without having to pick up any food off the floor. I stopped at the Godiva store and bought a snack that I didn't have to share. I browsed stores I usually don't have time to think about.

I bought shoes that were really cute but pinch a little bit.*

I went to Sephora and got a new moisturizer.

I also decided to try a product to get rid of this annoying brown spot on my face.

This one. See it on my cheekbone?

So I bought this, um, stuff. The product seems to be called "Lumedia, Formulated to reduce the appearance of Hyperpigmented Age Spots and stubborn discolorations of the skin (including melasma and freckles)," which 1) seems like an awfully long name and 2) always makes me think: "Are you like me? Can you just not get your pigmented age spots to calm the fuck down already?"

The Sephora employee recommended the product, so like a bleating sheep I bought it.

Anyway, I've been using it faithfully since March 1. (Except, you know, I didn't have it with me for those few days I was in Sioux Falls, and then I forgot about it for a few days after that, and I apply it once a day but that second recommended application typically doesn't happen, but still! Almost faithfully.)

The Sephora man told me to give it a month or so.

and after a month or so. . .

duh dun da DUH!Yeah. Nuthin. No Change.

$96 of useless crap. It's probably hobo semen in a black bottle.


*Times I have put those shoes on since buying them: 4
Times I have worn them out of the house: 0
I told you, they're uncomfortable. But every time I put them on I think, "Hey! These are really cute!" Also, I have since purchased Croc flip flops, which totally win the footwear battle against cute any day of the week.

Confirming that Yes, There is Only One in There

Thank you very much.
Can you make anything out of that? Little Dude's arms are crossed in front of him, his face pointing to about 4 o'clock.

We were able to do the 3-D scan yesterday (oooooh. . . aaaaah. . . ) which was very cool, although I thought every picture looked creepily Kuato-like. Organs seem to be in the right place, and, oh yeah: "he." We knew that already, but I can't remember if I told you.

Baby didn't exactly cooperate for his first photo shoot; he kept blocking the camera with his hands. I'm guessing he is just so embarrassed by his NCAA pool picks he's reluctant to show his face around here. (He did worse than her, for heaven's sake. At least he narrowly edged out her.)

The Weekly Breeder

I just passed a guy in the hallway who I haven't seen in a long time. It was a quick exchange. He asked how the baby was. "How old is he now?"

Then he said, "Wait, are you pregnant again?" (Which is normally a pretty dumb thing to ask, but since I look about 57 weeks pregnant right now,* he was pretty safe.)

The last time I talked to this guy was December 2004. I told him the "baby" was great, almost three. His - ahem - sister was fourteen months old, and yes, I'm due in August.

Dude looked a little startled.

Then we parted, and I still feel kinda dumb. I think I left that guy with the impression that I'm on some kind of ill-conceived (har) mission to populate the world with as many hapa children as I can in a four-year span.


*No, for real, Internet. I look very, very pregnant. Such that when I rode the metro a few weeks ago, my fellow passengers "tsk tsked" and scowled at all the seated riders who didn't stand up immediately. When a seat opened up and a clueless 50-something white guy sat down before I could get to it, there was nearly a riot.

I Got Yer April Fools Joke Right Here

Bump had a rough day yesterday. First, he fell for my joke post. Now I think I'm hilarious, but saying you just made someone's life 1000 times easier - then telling him you're only kidding - is plain mean. Even I recognize that.

Second, he got not one, but TWO parking tickets. His tags expired at 11:59 on March 31. Nine hours and seven minutes later, he got slapped with a $30 ticket. Oh, Arlington County, now I understand how you can afford to renovate that park across the street every other damn year.

Nana was driving his car when it was ticketed, and she was mortified. We laughed it off - Bump has his renewal stickers, he just hadn't put them on yet - and the last time a similar thing happened with our county decals he was able to get the violation waived.

Now, he should have gone out right then and put the stickers on his plates. But it was raining. And Bump was a little distracted by the contractors, scheduling the cleaning lady before the Sunday Open House, finding a sitter for Friday, having to constantly bark "Baby, get out of there!", Lumpyhead needing another tissue, juggling nap schedules with one available crib but two children, and getting Nana to the airport.

We scored a babysitter for our anniversary. We should have put the stickers on when she arrived, but we were distracted by a baby for whom boxes and furniture present no obstacle (over, under, or shove it out of the way - she's quite wily - curse you, Mobility!), briefing the babysitter on the location of stuff in the chaos that is our house, a whining Lumpyhead ("Lumpyhead come to dinner wif yooooouuu!" "Lumpyhead go out for dinner tooooooo!"), finding an appropriate bribe to appease His Highness, and Bump requiring a shower before appearing in public.

After our very nice dinner, we returned to Bump's car to find a second little love note from our fair city for expired tags.

How was your April 1? Tell me about any good pranks you saw/heard of/played that didn't involve parking enforcement.

18-20-25-31-36, 11

Wow. Missed by one. If only that 11 had been a 7.

I haven't gone to the DC Lottery Headquarters yet, but I'll probably go at lunch. I can't stop shaking. I bought the ticket at the liquor store last week, but forgot to check it until this morning. Now I'm totally paranoid that I'm going to lose the ticket between here and the Frank Reeves Center.

What should I do? It's not enough to quit working entirely, but I could take a year or two off while the kids are still little. Bump and I could take a vacation, but where should we go? Should we take the kids? Leave them with grandparents? You want them?

Should I stop being silly and stash all the money in the kids' college funds, or buy a bigger house than we thought we could afford?

What would you do?