So I've recently cut out carbs (hush. its the only thing short of Adderall that works for me.) and was doing GREAT....until I ran out of my stock of approved foods at home this evening. Instead of gorging on the bottle of Dulce de Leche I have in the fridge, I'm going with Triscuits and hummus. All things considered, I shouldn't be too hard on myself for not staying on program. But it's hard.

Sitting here sobbing over the following: daycare and all the illnesses it brings (home), needing new underwear, messy house, Kleenex, early contractions, Nutella, a 3 year old who doesn't listen, how much I hate shopping online, our high-deductible insurance plan, spilled milk, and the thought I'll soon have two kids. Ridiculous.

I was a screamer when DS was born. The day before and while in labor, I was trying to pass kidney stones. The epidural just didn't take. The nurse told me to stop it because I was scaring the other women. I don't remember exactly what I told her, but I believe it contained the words "fuck" and "yourself".

I love Laptop Dad. He sounds like a first-rate dad and the daughter sounds like a veritable snot. I, myself, wouldn't shoot a laptop. It's destructive and a blatant waste of money. I'd wipe out the hard-drive and sell/donate it.

Finally bit the bullet and put DS (3) in his own bed earlier this week. He's sleeping all night without a peep. This? Is monumental for him...and for me...and for my husband.

One day, Rush Limbaugh will be found in a motel somewhere with a male prostitute...and one of those apple things in his mouth...

Last night was just awful - fever, chills, body aches, violent cough, and legit contractions with some pretty dark moments of despair. In my fitful sleep, I dreamed of my grandmother's pillowy hand patting mine and her super Southern voice saying "you're gonna be alright darlin'. Nana is here." The part of me that watches Long Island Medium wants to believe that she actually came to visit me.

We had a nasty storm rolling in last night and it scared my 2YO....so I bunked in with him last night. He put his arms around my neck at about 3am and gave me eskimo kisses. All those stitches in my lady parts really WERE worth it

I realized this week how big my 27 month old DS is. He's 38 inches and 35 pounds. He seems so stout and towers over the kids in his class.

DS only gets 3 gifts for Christmas....because that's all that Jesus (supposedly) got.