It’s ten o’clock at night and my visitors are gone, my children are in bed and I am sitting here blogging naked.
Why am I blogging naked? Well, I just got out of the shower and didn’t feel like putting any clothes on. Yes. I’m THAT lazy.
I’m sad to see my friend, Amanda go home. Today, she went to the Seattle Glass museum for one last hurrah in the city before she gets back to Florida and while she was gone, madness ensued at the house. It was fantastic.
The kids and Dean and I sat on our asses all day being creative. The first thing we did was print out a shitload of coloring pages from the internet and color them. Mine was better than those goddamned kids’s, though. Matthew colored a picture of Venom and a Star Wars picture and he did a great job (but not as good as I did…. naturally). Owen colored a picture of Spiderman and one of Buzz Lightyear and Olivia did one of the Teletubbies and another masterpiece of a My Little Pony. Dean did Superman and I did a Care Bear and a glorious Tinkerbell.
After we colored, I printed off some crossword puzzles and word searches for Matt and he did them with Dean-o and then we played art school where I taught Matt how to draw using grids. The same way I taught Dean. Matthew’s artwork was grand and I was very proud. He did much, much better than Dean did when I tried to teach him the same thing.
After we finished drawing, Matthew, Olivia, Owen and I sat down with a toolbox full of beads, two hot glue guns and two large, empty coffee cans. The four of us sat there on the floor hot glue gunning everything we could find to these cans and making piggy banks out of them. They are fucking stellar.
Holy cow. I’m awesome because I just used the word, “stellar”.
But anyways. After we hot glue gunned the whole goddamned house, I threw some stock paper into my printer and printed out a whole shitload of different masks and we sat and colored those, too. Or rather, I colored them. Then, we made and ate dinner and got fucking full and none of us could move. I sat my big, fat, pregnant, burger engorged ass in this chair right here and undid my pants and lo and behold… here comes my little princess looking so sweet and innocent.
In her hand, she holds a marker.
“Mommy… you want a mustache?” She asks sweetly.
Well, of course, I want a mustache. What self respecting woman wouldn’t? So, my dear angel daughter reaches up and draws an enormous handlebar mustache on my top lip with the marker and then, pleased with herself, adds one to her own lip. She trots off happily looking for another victim and most everyone fights her off. How dare they??? So, back to mom she comes and spends the next half hour drawing all over my face and Buddha belly.
“Emi, you want a mustache?” she asks.
Fuck yes, Emi wants a mustache. Once applied, the mustache turns into a full blown piece of tummy artwork as Olivia now gets every single marker out and elaborately draws all over my stomach. Then, she flops over, hands me a marker and insists that I draw on her belly, too.
My guess is that the markers were tickly because she was wriggling around like a cockroach stuck on it’s back and giggling madly as I applied stars to her nipples and a huge, blue heart to her belly button. When I finished, she hopped up and ran off to the mirror in my room to inspect herself and she was quite pleased.
And then it was bedtime and I was sad to see my babies go as I did enjoy spending this time with them. I’ve missed them while our friends were here visiting, what with me being in and out of the hospital and my little’s being very excited and giving all of my attention away to our guests…lol. I felt like I hadn’t seen them in days even though I have.
My friend, Amanda documented her entire trip by taking a million pictures and, frankly, I should have kicked her ass while I had the chance. Earlier today, she is sitting here lamenting how she hasn’t been able to get any good shots of fucking Dean and I am looking at her dumbfounded because she has intentionally taken pictures of me looking as disgusting as possible. It is sabotage, I tell you.
I’m serious, too. A few examples of her pictures of me (that she took on purpose) are… me at the zoo with my stomach hanging out of the bottom of my shirt, me at the zoo standing next to a sign thing that says, “waddle”, various photos of me half naked at the hospital, fat hanging out with me in awkward positions attached to fetal monitors, me chopping onions and me eating.
What the fuck, Amanda?
“I just can’t seem to get a good shot of Dean….” Well, goddamn you. Goddamn you straight to hell because you intentionally documented me at my worst and now there will be damage control to be done before you leak them to the public.
My damage control was sending her the following text message after she had left:
“No one is to see those pictures or I will be sending Owen to you in a box. You have been warned.”
I figure that should do it. Owen drove her nuts. Now, I can use him to threaten her.
Tonight…. season finale of The Family Guy. Much excitement. Tomorrow… cleaning and trying not to go into labor. I don’t want to be in the hospital during the American Idol finale. I swear to god, if I go into labor on Tuesday, I will be waiting to leave for the hospital until after the show is over. And then, I will be leaving the hospital in time for the results show. Mark my words.
I’m bored, now. Someone come over and play with me.