Tolerate the Jingling Bells

Reason for not posting recently: Christmas may be over, but Chuckles just learned that "Jingle Bells" rhymes with "Batman smells" and then we had to search all over because the Joker got away, and we couldn't find him. It was tragic what with all the other things we've been doing lately like getting our flaming jeans off of the power lines* and walking our pram down the street through the snow and ice**.

Bobo is (probably) milk intolerant like Chuckles, and we are idiots. And now he slept through the night, two nights in a row (just shot myself in the foot by posting this...three nights is a trend, two is an abberration). I'll let you know if it continues. But let's just say that any woman who discovers that she might have been sleeping for the previous 6 months if only she had known and doesn't nearly flagellate herself is a robot. If you are a robot, all I have to say to you is: 011100110110001101110010011001010111011100100000011110010110111101110101

I have no idea where I am going with this, so I will just end it here or write a bunch of random crap and see what sticks.

Only 203 days until the Bon Jovi concert.

I lost 10 pounds over the holidays because I weaned Bobo (and I lose the last bit of baby weight while weaning and I kept nursing through Christmas...for the cookies).

My coworker (who I call The Piddler) continues to pee all over the seat (and floor). No New Year's Resolution for him, apparently.

The heat is broken in my work trailer, and it is 59 degress here now. Brisk.

I discovered a website called 'I hate your kids name' (yes, I know it's wrong and petty to mock people, I do know), and I want to come up with fake submittals that would look only too real. You need a lot of extra Ys and Hs and words. How about Pryncyss Yoon'heek (for Princess Unique, which would be a bad enough name even spelled correctly) and Ochocinqo. I do have my Six Simple Rules for Naming Your Child After British Aristocracy, so keep that in mind.

I watched the two-hour season premiere of Chuck last night (another episode tonight). I'm not sure what I think. Not enough spy stuff, maybe. Not enough longing in the relationship arena. Not enough laughs, and they could have done something FUNNY to get Big Mike back at the Buy More instead of what they did with the Emmitt story line, which was not funny.

I watched a little bit of the Bachelor the other night (for the first-time ever) and I feel dirty. And ashamed. And embarrassed on behalf of all women throughout time and history. It was icky. I guess since it's a game and you need to be noticed, you have to...I don't know...whore yourself out, but ick.

Since I weaned, I seem to have stopped spotting from the Mirena (also, by writing this, I have ensured I will start spotting again soon). So, it might end up being a good choice after all. Keep my spotting in mind in case you find yourself looking for post-partum birth control that is safe while nursing. I should've used the mini-pill again (but I was so nervous about a potential supply drop). Eh. What's done is done.

* - Liar Liar, pants on fire, hanging on the telephone wire.
** - Mommy and Daddy, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in the baby carriage.