I kind of stay away from blogs (seriously…why do I loathe that word so much…blawg. the way my non-bloggy friends use it like it’s a nasty word…”hey, Ali, are you going to put this on your blaaaaawwwwwwwg?”) that tend to be whiney whiney whine whine and steer more towards the sites that either make me laugh or make me think. So, because of this, I will not go into specifics of my week from total hell which involved such things as two vomity plagues and a kidney-failured grammy and the whole I-don’t-get-paid-if-I-can’t-work thing coming into full fruition and an out-of-town husband and a day with my children that had me googling military schools. No, really, you don’t need to hear about it. You probably already saw shades of it on twitter…which, you know, had many people  – who I totally don’t deserve to have as friends – email and text and IM and DM to make sure I was alive okay. like this lovely person in particular, who while waiting too patiently for me to get my shit together to make book on a promise about, erm, a book, instead of being annoyed with me sent me probably one of the nicest emails I have ever gotten and it made me smile almost as much as the gift my dad got me on friday – the gift of an anti-emetic suppository which pretty much saved my life (I know, gross. sorry)

So, hrm, so, we’ll look for some fluffy, shall we?

We can talk about how I only dream in infomercials now because every damn night I fall asleep watching The Food Network and at some point during the night (4am, fyi) it switches from all of its deliciousness to paid programs about teaching babies to read or colon cleansers or the Back2Life machine or Snuggies for kids (and pets!) or fucking bendaroos. Seriously, this is what I dream about…teaching my unborn babies to point to their heads as I gleefully hold up a flashcard with the word HEAD clearly printed on it. shudder. these, friends, are called nightmares.

We can talk about Josh’s first big hit at his baseball game today and his first time crossing home plate and seriously, the excitement on the face of the boy who only knows how to play hockey as he realized that hey…he actually likes this whole little league thing and the practicing is actually paying off and seriously, I was squeeing so hard on the inside for him. Because this is what I wanted this year. To find what he likes, to foster it, to encourage it, and to cheer him on. It really isn’t too late. And one day he may forgive me for showing up to his practice wearing my pajamas, because, you know, pants are for chumps…or for moms without the damn stomach flu. And one day he might forgive me for laughing every day time he puts that cup on and for never being able to find both of his baseball socks.

We can talk about how I finally saw Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist and after listening pretty much nonstop to the soundtrack for a very, very, very long time I thought I was going to hate the movie because seriously how effing typecast is Michael Cera but I really ended up loving the whole damn thing except for the whole girl-sticking-her-hands-in-the-toilet-she-just-hurled-in-to-get-her-gum scene. REALLY? I mean, goddamn it, Violet Beauregarde is a champion gum chewer but I will bet my hands on the fact that she would have just let. the. gum. go.

We can talk about the seasons 1 and 2 of Mad Men that my dad just bought. I am SO excited to start watching this show.

We can talk about how I am totally eating bread again. because we all knew that wouldn’t last long at all. because, hello, people, I am in the south….the land of big, frizzy hair and the real housewives of atlanta and BISCUITS. and also, while we are talking about the south, I seriously thought that Slynnro’s husband Mr. A was totally just drunk when he went on for about 4o minutes discussing chicken and waffles and even after Slynnro assured me that yes, chicken and waffles really is a thing, I still didn’t believe her. but now…I know better. It’s real. It’s as real as Sweet Tea and jello salads. and biscuits.

mmmmm..biscuits.

And lastly, we can talk about this purchase…

that we bought for the boy. for his birthday. In November. It’s currently sitting in the box on the dining room table. Every time Josh walks by it, he rubs his hands together in total glee and excitement and delight and all that jazz. I don’t think I have ever seen him this excited about anything. I really, truly, honestly think he thinks this game is real. I think he’s really going to be expecting there to be outer space and zorgons and maybe, possibly his future self as an astronaut, and meteor showers. My god, maybe I shouldn’t tell him that I’m trying to find him the Jumanji game too. That’ll just completely blow the child’s mind.