They Don't Call Me "I Hate it When" for Nothing

A quick update of my week thus far combined with a little game of "I hate it when..."

I hate it when...
-The Mr. and I are hungover wandering Babies R Us not remembering why we drove there in the first place

I hate it when...
-The Mr. is hungover in Babies R Us putting random things in the cart and I, in turn, am putting them back

I hate it when...
-I give the Chitlin a big hug in the morning and her diaper leaks pee all over me

I hate it when...
-The person next to me in traffic catches me singing like a contestant on American Idol

I hate it when...
-I'm in the middle bathroom stall at work and someone slams the door shut next to me causing my own door to swing wide open

That's all for now...but it's only Wednesday.  Happy Wednesday Everyone! :)

They Don't Call Me "Addicted" for Nothing

I have a problem.  It started years ago and I've always just made a joke about it...but I'm addicted.  I'm ready to admit that now.  I'm addicted to cheese and I don't know what to do.  It started off so innocently.  Wine and cheese parties with the girls...but lately I've been using alone.  I try to cover it up and say the spread of baked brie with fig jam and crackers is for the Mr. and me...but it's not.  I eat the whole thing.  I don't want to do it...because it's bad for me. I know how much fat is in there. My muffin top tells me. It pleads with me to stop, but I don't listen.  I inhale plates of nachos.  I firmly believe grilled cheese sandwiches are a nice snack before dinner.  I would swim in it if I could.  Just open my mouth and drown in the food I love the most.  I don't care "Chedda make the Mrs. feel betta"

They Don't Call Me "Office Blank" for Nothing

In every office I have ever worked in there are always the typical "Office Blanks".  They are the characters we like to bitch  complain about during our regular (sometimes outside) working hours. Without them we would be bored so cheers to you, you office "blanks"

The Stank Tank - The person that lives and eats at their desk.  If they aren't currently eating, just look for an area covered in leftover crumbs, a greasy keyboard, and overflowing garbage. I've smelled everything from onion and cilantro tacos to Thai food for breakfast coming from these offenders.

The Missing Link - You can never find this person...especially when you need them. They're the empty seat at the meeting, the empty seat in cubicle land, and yet they always say they're "busy".  Doing what? I've always found them wandering the halls or staring at the vending machine.

The Inappropriate -The Female version of this likes to wear super sexy fits to the office and then wonders - "Geez, he kept staring at my boobs through the whole meeting." The Male version would say, "I couldn't help but stare at her boobs through the whole meeting"

The Stalker Talker - They never fail to catch you at your busiest moments.  You're swamped with work, you have your headphones on, you're getting into your groove, and....they wander in yapping about their weekend

So which Office "Blank" am I? All of the above at one time or another....but I did make sure to apologize to my dinosaur loving cubicle neighbor about the tacos. But more importantly....which "Blank" are you?

They Don't Call Me "You're a Mom Now" for Nothing

The Mr. likes to try and control my behavior by using the magic phrase, "You're a Mom Now."  (Yes Dear, I know...I carried a baby in my uterus for nine months and then birthed her out via National Geographic style)  It's almost as if he feels like this is my kryptonite and sometimes just throws it at the end of random sentences. He's used it in many instances such as Better Clear it with the King and the following:

"Babe, you can't be sexy sailor for Halloween - You're a Mom Now."

"Don't get arrested - You're a Mom Now."

"You shouldn't swear so much. - You're a Mom Now."

Ok...so I'm not allowed to be the cursing slutty sailor that gets arrested walking the streets of Orange County anymore.  Got it. I'm a Mom now.

They Don't Call Me "Poet & I Don't Even Know It" for Nothing

Flight of the Chitlin

We were getting ready to get on the plane

Of course Mommy was going a little insane

It was the first flight we would take without the Mr.

We were going to visit my Mother, Father, and Sister

We went to the Airport and it was time to board

My anxiety worsened, my stomach soared

Southwest and their "No assigned seating"

I looked for a friendly face, a smile, a greeting

We saw another Mother alone with her Cub

I knew we would be safe and that she would not snub
So we sat ourselves down and prepared for the flight

I put on my seatbelt and held the Chitlin tight

Before we knew it we were up in the air

"Your baby is so good...that's very rare"

The other Mother complimented the Chitlin's behavior

I thought, "Thank God, my Lord, and Savior

We were almost there and we prepared to be finally on the ground

Then something happened, something deadly without sound

Everyone looked at each other thinking, "What is that smell?"

The Chitlin had tooted...and I sat there silently in hell



They Don't Call Me "What's Cookin" for Nothing

The Mr. told me I need to try and cook more. He would say this ALL. THE. TIME.  So one day I thought, "Oh, what the hay...let's try this Suzy Homemaker shit out!" Ask and you shall receive. It was like he unleashed a cooking beast inside me that I never knew existed....and it was bad...it was ALL bad...and my sweet Mr. ate it all because he knew he had to.  Here are some of my attempts at Master Chef-dom.

• Runny Egg Homemade Mac & Cheese - Was I even supposed to put egg in there?
• Burnt Brandy Sauce on Pork Chops - My timing was off on that one...my bad
• Super Salty Chicken Adobo - "Why am I so thirsty?"
• On Fuego Black Bean Soup -  So spicy it'll make you sweat...and it did.

After all my attempts, I proudly have three solid recipes in my repertoire.  I knew the Mr. was pleased right away because of the lack of leftovers. So without further adieu, here are my final three:

• Beef Stroganoff - His Mom's recipe because he called my version, "Different."
• Fiesta Tacos - Every ingredient found in a Mexican Restaurant all in the crock pot.
• Fiesta Chili - Fiesta Tacos with chicken broth

These are the meals I now rotate each week and the Mr. has stopped telling me to cook more. Guess "What's Cookin", tonight?

They Don't Call Me "Driving Hazard" for Nothing

The Mr. thinks I'm a bad driver. He's right.  I'm a horrible driver...but it has nothing to do with me being a woman...or of Asian decent...or the fact I had to take my driving test twice before I passed.  I'm just a bad driver. Here are some samples of my stellar driving skills:

One afternoon the Mr. called me right after I left the driveway....

Me - "Hello?"
the Mr. - "Did you know you just backed up into the neighbors' car and drove away?"
Me - "Ummm...I must've just tapped it since I didn't notice."
the Mr. - "No...no, you didn't"

Explaining the fresh scrapes on the right side of my front bumper...

Me - "I think I pulled into the driveway too fast"
the Mr. - "How do you not know how to pull into the driveway? You've been pulling in and out of this driveway over and over for a year!!!"
Me - "It's trash day...the trash cans through me off?"

As I drive over the curb...

the Mr. - "You just drove over the curb!"
Me - "It's a curb...it's not like a person"

So...you can understand why I'm not allowed to drive his truck...ever. I guess I'm just a driving hazard.

They Don't Call Me "Survivor" for Nothing

The Chitlin had her very First Birthday last month!  Which also means....I survived my very first year of being a Mommy! Phew! Good Lord.... I was sure I was headed for a mental breakdown far worse than any of the most alcohol induced furies of my youth. These are some experiences and discoveries we made during our first year as a fam bam:

• We can survive on 5 hours of sleep - but become "like a crazy natch the week before her period" on anything under 4.
• The Mr. goes to the bathroom a lot - usually when the Chitlin is being fussy or shat her diaper
• The Diaper Genie is super until the Chitlin started solid food - then it became a stank porta potty sitting in the corner of the room
• A gym membership is not a family necessity - which is why I traded it in for a massage membership
• Road trips over two hours are not suggested - because they make mommy go cray cray
• We got an in-house laundry service - it's called me and I don't get paid
• Hide yo keys, hide yo cell phone - cuz the Chitlin will find them and hide them for you
• We like to smile at other families in restaurants - but we used to give them the hairy eyeball look

...and those were only tidbits of our first fam bam year! So many adventures in so little time...cheers to year #2 ;)

They Don't Call Me "Hip With It" for Nothing

I was thinking of how much more fashion oriented I used to be when I was younger.  Now trends are changing so fast I can barely keep up and sometimes even understand.  Here's a list of what I'm talking about:

Lingerie Swimwear:  The Mr., Chitlin, and I were all at the beach one day when I noticed a group of girls.  "Are they wearing Lingerie?", I asked.  "That can't be waterproof....Is that the style nowadays?" ...."Honey?" .....I had lost him at "Lingerie".

Feathers: I love feather earrings!  I went to the little boutique I love, saw one in brown and gold, and purchased. When I opened the box there was only the one I had brought up to the register....where was its mate? To Google I went and there it was...."One Feather Earring Trend"  Of course...why did I think its mate would be hidden behind the register somewhere?

Risque Work Attire:  Now that it's getting hot outside... Lacy bras, and boobage, and short skirts. Oh my! So, I thought nothing of the day I decided to wear my fancy tube top and wide leg jeans.  That was also the day I found out no one really wears tube tops anymore.

What had happened to me?  I used to think I had some inkling of what was going on.  As these thoughts went through my mind I did a quick mental checklist of my past fashion stages to make myself feel better.

The Gwen Stefani: Colored baggie Dickie's with white boy tank.  Accessorized with a belt, red bra, and, of course, red lipstick. CHECK

The Avril Lavigne: T-shirt and tie. CHECK

The short lived Clueless: Plaid jumper and knee highs. CHECK

?: Tight half top and jeans. I don't know what to call this, but definitely CHECK

Hmmmm....younger me would me disappointed in early 30's me.  I began to feel dead inside...my head started to droop and my hand went up to tuck my unbrushed for days hair behind my ear.  It was right then when my fingertips touched my single feather earring and I smiled....."I'm Still Hip with It"

They Don't Call Me "Cubicle War Zone" for Nothing

In Cubicle Land there is nothing but a sea of cubicles as far as the eye can see.  That is, until one day, I popped my head up and saw a row of this.

It was a row of tiny dinosaurs obstructing my ocean view of cubicles...hidden amongst tiny trees as if they were trying to make a home here in Cubicle Land.  What kind of message was my cubicle neighbor trying to convey?

a) He really likes dinosaurs.
b) He thinks dinosaurs are fun cubicle decor
c) He is starting a Cubicle War Zone

The obvious answer is, c) He is starting a Cubicle War Zone.  Too bad I am not easily deceived...I see you, dinosaur army, hidden amongst your fake trees.  How must I handle this?  Shall I arm myself with staples and paper clips and take these "blanks" down one by one?  No...perhaps this is not my war.  Maybe it is a war for a different kind of army....

They Don't Call Me "You Need a New Hobby" for Nothing

*WARNING - THIS CONTENT CONTAINS HIGH AMOUNTS OF SARCASM*

The other evening the Mr. turns to me and says, "I think you need a new hobby besides blogging." 

"Oh? Like what?", I asked.

"Like the Refrigerator", he replied.

"The Refrigerator?  How do I do that?"

The Mr. then began telling me all the exciting things about my new hobby and even gave me a few pointers!

Exciting Things

- Create fun sections in the Refrigerator like Veggies, Fruit, and Meat
- Make a game called "Let's check the expiration date!"
- Enjoy this new hobby without ever having to leave the house

A Few Pointers

- The crock pot is not meant to be used as Tupperware
- The Tupperware is not meant to keep things fresh for weeks
- It is not good when things start to magically change (ex: colors, smells, or shapes)

Hmmmm....the Mr. did have some very tempting selling points, but I really want to start a hobby that we can do together as a couple as well.

 

More about the Mr.

"Selectively Anal", "Better Clear it with the King"