zoomaru

I'm out of sorts today. We both know what that means, but what DOES it mean? Does it mean that i just ran out of the sorts? What are the sorts that I am no longer having? sorts sorts sorts. the more i say it the less of a real word it becomes. zorts.

Okay, maybe i'll go with being crabby. whatever. Same issues. If a crab is out of sorts, what does HE say?

At home we're all a little tired these days. Which makes us all a little short-tempered. The bloggers I normally read are all a little crabby too. On one hand this is reassuring that it's not just me on the other hand it gives me more reason to be crabby. My coworkers made me crabbier. I haven't been to the gym all week, despite feeling inordinately fluffy.

And I'm sure you're thinking "hormonal" but no. I can't even blame my malaise on that. hmm. The hubby and I are going out for dinner, i bet that'll help. We've both been a bit distracted with work and kidlet, we haven't had a chance to just be grownups together. Maybe we'll stumble across the best spontaneously entertaining thing EVER. But most likely, we'll have a few microbrews, some decent grub in a place that we can't take a toddler and we'll call it good!

It was a restless night in the Hayes household. Hubby tossing and turning. Ruby wandering around. Fans running, covers kicked off. Didn't open a window as that lets in all the sneezy wheezy pollen that has been coating our lives lately. I'm a pretty light sleeper, and when Ruby opens and closes her bedroom door, I'm awake like a shot. Ruby has her favorite elephant named Doh that always goes to bed with her, but lately her collection has grown to include a soft bunny puppet and a pair of leopard-print, cat-eyed sunglasses (she's wearing them in a pic from last summer). A pretty random collection of cling-to thingies that she assembles when she needs a little extra support.

The first time, she woke up last night quietly mumbling about finding the elephant. Like a mantra she repeated over and over "doh doh doh doh doh". In the dark I patted around her bed and located the wayward pachyderm. Two hours later, "glasses glasses glasses glasses glasses", found those on the floor where i'd put them to prevent her from rolling on top of them. I put her back in bed and she then requested this little pillow that has her name on it. If you're keeping count, that's FOUR items that she had to have tucked in around her, not to mention the small stack of books she likes to have in her bed too.

So, like many a parent, i'm not very well rested today. Remember back in your 20s when you were half-assed at work from staying out late and drinkin' with cute boys (or at least trying to drink with cute boys).

Maybe it's just time to put the window unit air conditioners in for the year! ah! cool wafting air WITH lovely white noise thrown in! I LOVE the white noise. It drowns out the trains that wail past our neighborhood at 5:45 am. It bathes our rooms in swaddling, comfy, blissful sleepiness.

I work for a creative firm, we're small, just four people, and we are either HOLYSHIT busy or we are OHMYFREAKINGOD slow. Today is of the OHMYFREAKIN' variety. I've read all my blogs, and found some new ones (waiterrant for one and postsecret for another). I installed some software on our server, which i had managed to put off doing for weeks. I've compulsively checked my email. over. and over. and over. I should have taken a long lunch like my cohorts are presently doing. Stupid me! Our boss isn't here either, which makes it even more painful to remain in our little rolly chairs. staring at a monitor. That refuses to entertain us. Poke. Entertain me, dammit! Poke.

I'm trying to avoid all the amazons and jcrew and other shopping sites because all that would do is surprsie me next week when boxes start showing up on our doorstep. "whatha?... oh. yeah, i was bored last week."  This involved not just one single box from one single vendor. There were two. Sad really. Anyways, i realize that retail therapy is no cure for boredom. I don't really NEED new stuff. I'm actually still paying off some of the old new stuff. And we're having a yard sale this weekend to get rid of the old old stuff. You know, the stuff that was new but now it's not and it's taking up valuable space where NEW NEW stuff could go? (seriously if you're going to be in the neighborhood, stop by, maybe i should get some baked goods and soda to sell! we'll pimp out our little girl for the sympathy factor)

There are many things I'd rather do than sit here and stare at my stupid, although very nice, flat-panel 21-inch monitor. I guess I'll just go see if there's any more gossip on perezhilton.com. blech.

I have discovered a new speech impediment. It is Mama Tourettes. While this might sound like another of those wax museums, it is actually the random spouting of momisms in the general direction of their child. "Watch your fingers!" is most common in our house.

I'm missing the tip of one finger and i think that is the impetus for my particular syndrome. WATCH. YOUR. FINGERS!!!! We used to joke that we were just having a child so we might have replacement parts for ourselves. Richard's ankle is pretty bad and the aforementioned finger tip could come in handy. But I guess we have to wait for her to be full grown. i don't think her ankles will ever be big enough for richard. FACE! i can still have a finger tip though! HA!

Back to the tourettes, there are many things that pop out of my mouth that I thought only my mother said "that didn't hurt!" "no, you have to eat dinner first" "Get that out of your mouth" oh. well. Perhaps other mothers say that too? Sometimes it feels like I'm repeating the same rituals and dances that are done the world over and throughout history!

Your boobs get bigger!! (Maybe not so popular with overweight men. Wait. I mean, that while men don't mind bigger girl boobs they're not anxious to have big man boobs on themselves)

To save you money, all the clothing manufacturers only make two pairs of pants in your size and once they're gone, they're gone! Now you can't throw away your money! You could buy two pairs of size 6 and some how jam them together, but that's just being obstinate.

Obnoxious construction workers don't catcall at ya any more!!

Your once stretched-out sports bras are once again taut and supportive!!

It's another wonderful memento of turning 40! An age that I've always dreamed of being! Seriously. Couldn't WAIT to be 40.

You get to reacquaint yourself with the nutritional labels on food packaging! THIS is two servings? Please. I could eat 12 bags of these. Fortunately I don't know my multiplication tables that high.

Maybe I'll just go to the gym tomorrow afterall.

[UPDATED: apparently gaining weight prevents you from counting up past 6! whoops!] 

I don't think you'll be surprised that I do a lot of web-surfing. A LOT! seriously, working on a computer all day and having a laptop in the living room and a curious mind, i end up finding lots of interesting things!

I love photography, and this is a blog dedicated to bringing you found photos,
BigHappyFunHouse

Post Secret is a community-based art project, readers submit postcards anonymously telling often very personal secrets. They're mezmerizing

And then there's a local, Richmond painter Duane Keiser does a postcard-sized painting a day which he sells on ebay. They're beautiful classically/masterly styled still-lifes of everyday objects. He's no longer posting everyday, but still very regularly.

I have a whole list of funny women I like to read on a regular basis
Dooce
Finslippy
UntitledLife
Fussy

I'm entirely too embarrassed to list the celebrity-gossip blogs I habitually read. I swear that I'm SO gonna give those up one day.  

I just want to know why humans still have the fifth and smallest toe? I'm sure it adds very little to our overal stability, especially when drinking, and they just hurt like hell when you smack em on stuff. I stubbed that little bugger so bad my ANKLE hurt. Hello, Darwin?

While I'm questioning reality, why do boys pee on the floor? i work with a bunch of them, they're fairly civilized but one of them has a habit of dribblin' quite a bit of pee on the floor in front of the toilet. I have to struggle to keep my shoes out of it. and it's sticky. GA-ROSS!

Why do people talk on their cell phones while they order fast food or their freakalattamochachino? It slows the whole works up and I can't believe for a minute that their conversation is that freakin' important.

Why don't toddlers sleep past 6:30am? Why? WHY?

Why do cats slip right in front of your feet as you're going down the stairs? Do they really want to kill you?

It used to be you could buy a pound of chicken. Now, to make you buy more, the packs are 1.75 lbs! crazy! we can't eat that much! Bastards!

I learned again today that sandals might as well be toddler-kryptonite when you're at the playground. Every three steps Ruby would be lifting a pink-butterfly sandal my way whining about the incredible, searing pain. These $12 sandals reduced her to a shrinking violet!

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well, diggity dang. With the hubby on the road to see his beloved DC United play the Beautiful Game, I had all sorts of plans about putting the kidlette to bed and writing more here and generally putzing about. Normally she's in bed by 8:30 but after a temper tantrum and 40 minutes of milling about upstairs, opening and closing her door, alternated with gate rattling I finally brought her back down stairs around 9:40. It's 10:43 and it's WAY past MY bed time, was that her door opening again? oh wait. Here comes the orange cat. If that cat wakes the barely slumbering kid, i'm gonna kill her! And see previous note about toddlers sleeping past 6:30? I bet you 20 bucks she's up at her normal 6:19, it's just not fair.

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UPDATE:
Did Ruby sleep late the next day? Hell to the N-O! Course not, she didn't nap that day either. What the hell?