Casey on the Case AKA Mommy Extraordinaire
Archives:
April 2012
May 2012
June 2012
July 2012
-- Independence Day? It's For the Birds
-- You're Killin' Me Smalls!
-- The EB's Secret Lovers
August
-- What (Some) Of You Have Been DIEING To Know
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Independence Day? It's For the Birds
Tuesday, July 10
I'm posting early this morning.
For some reason, I haven't been able to sleep well. I think it's from the new Bean.
Now.
Not that I don't love my country and all…I've got much love for this country!
Yay! Whoo! Power to the people!
But Independence Day…it's so over done, and I don't know, maybe it's just hormones or something, but I just did not feel it this year. It was way hot, the parks were crowded, and it was quite an embarrassing scene with my dad and the EB in Central Park. Chester had to work, so I got stuck doing the shopping for the food with Delilah while daddy watched the kids until we got back.
So after that, we packed up the kids and went to Central Park, and I tell you, I swear people thought we were some back roads hick tourists. Me and the EB scoped out a spot and we put the blanket down and everything and we got settled in. A few minutes later, here came dad, traipsing across the field with his generator, keg, Foreman grill, his big ass hibachi, and one of those coolers that roll. And (because, my few loyal readers of this blog, you know the story just keeps getting better) he had on his white shorts and a shirt that had both the Confederate and American flags on there and it read, (I'm not even joking) ALL-AMERICAN REDNECK PATRIOT. In the middle of freakin' New York.
Thank God he didn't have a mullet.
All I could think was, 1989 called, it wants its shirt back.
Sam asked me what a Redneck was, and I sighed.
But it gets better.
We happened to miss the little report about how pigeons had copulating like mad in the spring, and now there's TONS of them. Well, on July 4th, the pigeons decided that they'd enjoy the festivities too. They were swooping down on us like Kamikazes, stealing people's food, freaking people out, crapping on our parade. It completely grossed me out and I couldn't eat for the whole day.
Chester thought he was out of the room when he said that I looked like death boiled over because to top it all off, I got suburned.
Unfortunately for him, I heard him say that and I went off on him.
It was just a bad day all around.
So, I guess I'm in my…third month? I kind of stopped keeping track with like how many weeks I am after Adam. When I got pregnant with Matty, I just kind of coasted through my pregnancy, and Chester was the one that kept track. The doctor says that I'm two and a half, officially, but like I said, who's counting? As long as we have a healthy baby, I'm cool. By the way, Bean #4 is healthy and so am I. I don't really pay attention to the months and stuff that much. I just watch my belly. And my boobs.
Chester just watches my boobs.
Posted by: SweetieMama 7:05 AM EDT 5 Comments Submit Report Of This Post
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You're Killin' Me Smalls!
Friday, July 20
My little ones have acquired quite the little temper lately. We know that it's not because there's another little one on the way, they're excited about that…I don't know if there's just something in the water or what.
Chester, the Beans and I were in the den just kind of…hanging out. We don't watch much TV.
Honestly, my mind is always going and my attention span is way to short for the television, and Chester just kind of blanks out or he's reading or playing with the kids.
Anyway, Chester was reading a book to Matty and I was playing Chutes and Ladders with Adam and Sam.
When Sam had to take the longest chute, she got SO mad. She cried and told me she didn't want to play anymore because she hates to lose (she so didn't get that from me). She's definitely a sore loser.
I told her that she had to finish the game. She pouted and that's when Adam stepped in and helped (not really):
He rolled his eyes and let out a long sigh and said, 'You're killin' me Smalls!'.
Chester and I cracked up! He was just so cute, and the whole moment was freakin' hilarious. Adam is so dramatic (again, I don't know where they get it from…ahem, the EB). I blame it on EB because she is the worst drama queen EVER. Well, at least if our son ever decides he wants to get into show business, at least he can say he learned from the best.
But it was just too funny because we honestly don't give our Beans enough credit. They actually do listen to everything.
Okay.
The Sandlot? Best movie EVER.
We watch it all the time, so that explains why Adam picked up on that.
Actually, that's kind of what cemented me and Chester: our mutual love of comedies, both classic and modern. Sometimes, when we had a day off together, we would just sit and watch comedies all day long.
Together, our favorite comedy of all time: Forget Paris.
'Somebody better tell me about this baby or asses will be kicked!'
Classic.
But these days, mine and Chester's entertainment comes from our Beans. Who needs TV when we've got three free shows every night?
But that's the thing about little kids: they're so innocent and in want of approval that they will listen, observe, do, and say anything because they have this innate sense of responsibility. They want to be like the grown ups.
So I guess it should have come as no surprise when Sam asked if the sounds she heard coming from the master bedroom was 'tickling'. Again, that situation was the EB's doing.
Chester and I were "tickling" and I guess we were a bit too loud and Sam had gotten up sometime in the night and heard us when she was supposed to be sleeping…anyways, little kids have big ears, big mouths…
And big hearts.
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The EB's Secret Lovers
Tuesday, July 24
Yep, it's official. Delilah's been cheating on daddy. I mean, cheating real bad, as in multiple, people. MULTIPLE!
And she does it in my house!
Oh my God, I'm an enabler! Delilah has a SERIOUS problem. I mean, big.
When she brought by Chuck, T-Bone, and Hebrews all together the first time, I knew that she had an addiction.
No, Chuck and T-Bone aren't her old boyfriends from that motorcycle gang she used to run with in her younger years, nor did she go to Temple because she's not Jewish.
No.
She brought close to twenty freakin' pounds of meat over to my house to hide in my big freezer in the basement!
My freezer!
We don't eat beef. Sam doesn't like it, Adam will only eat hotdogs, and Chester and I just stopped cooking it because it's not healthy.
We're not like those hostile anti-meat people. We're not vegans by no means, but our Beans do eat…well their beans and other vegetables with pleasure, and they enjoy chicken, fish, and tofu. Now, we do go to the open markets and we eat and shop organically. I think organic is the best way to go, especially because I have kids who appreciate a good piece of fruit or a fresh salad or will happily and quite contentedly munch on celery and carrot sticks.
So twenty pounds of beef is so repulsive to us because we're not going to eat it.
At first, I thought that it was some kind of retarded peace offering, but then Delilah confessed that she put daddy on a diet recently and told him to give up the beef. For years, I've always thought that Delilah didn't eat beef, but come to find out, she's been getting her fill from the local butcher and then cooking it up in secret at a friend's house.
So now that she's got dad on this diet, she has to keep up the façade.
Fast forward to the twenty pounds of meat.
Me: "You didn't get involved with the mob did you?"
EB: "No. Stop being sarcastic. I won a contest at the store and the prize was a hundred dollar gift card for this premier butcher. Well, I kind of went overboard."
Me: "Really? I don't think so I mean-TWENTY POUNDS OF BEEF Delilah? For heaven's sake!"
EB: "Just hush and hide it for me!"
Thus began an argument, which she ultimately won because I felt bad for her.
So I hid the meat under the condition that she come over and cook it and eat it herself.
That was at the end of June.
So now, whenever Delilah's jonesin' for a beef fix, she'll come over and cook something. The first couple of times, it was by herself. But this last time, she brought a bunch of her friends over and I didn't like that.
Being preggers and all, my fuse with people is getting shorter and shorter, but Chester told me to grin and bear it.
Ugh.
So I've been banished upstairs. In my house. In fact, all of us are up here…me, Chester and the kids are up here in the room while Delilah runs her beef speakeasy downstairs. It's shameful, and I'm pissed. Not only is she using me, but she broke my damn freezer.
She turned it down too low and then it just went on the fritz and broke.
But it's actually a good thing. She can take her meat and shove it up-
Woo-saa
She can take the rest of her meat and take it elsewhere so that she can go intrude upon one of her friends.
GET THE HELL OUT OF MY HOUSE, EB! ARRRGGHH!
Posted by: SweetieMama 7:15 PM EDT 13 Comments Submit Report Of This Post
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What (Some) Of You Have Been DIEING To Know
Wednesday, August 15
Since I announced my pregnancy to the blog world, I have been getting comments about what it was like for me and Chester pre-everything because in my old blog, I did leave my very few readers hanging with that casual non-date date thing (it was a date)…after that, I went back to writing in journals again.
I was actually dreading having to look through all that stuff down there to find the specific one, but Chester went down there for me and found my journals 'cause he's just that kind of guy.
So, here's my old journal from 2007 at the point when things got serious between me and Chester:
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Work has just been so terribly busy, and I can't tell you how happy I am to be home. I'm actually in the bathtub using my little stainless steel bath tray for once. These things actually DO come in handy. The water's a bit too hot, but it feels great because I seriously thought I was going to strangle someone today. How's that for irony. Prosecutor gets prosecuted. That's real nice.
Why do I think about these things? Honestly?
Last weekend, Chester and I watched Forget Paris, and it was scary how we kind of identified with Mickey and Ellen, how they had this instant connection and were completely in love just after a week in Paris…
It's so funny how we both love comedies. I mean, sometimes, we'll watch a drama or something else, but mostly, we like to laugh…
Everyone in the squad knows that me and Chester are dating and they won't let us live it down. They keep crackin' wise about it, especially Munch, and I told him that if he didn't stop it, I'd drop kick him. Fin offered me a thousand bucks to do it.
Elliot doubled that.
They think that we're totally weird because we enjoy Napoleon Dynamite more than the average person.
What's weird about that? I'm sure a lot of people love Napoleon Dynamite. It's a classic.
They laugh, but I'm having the best time of my life. I'm happy. Genuinely happy.
I realized that at the part when Mickey was throwing everybody out of the game…I really like who I am, and he brought out a part of me that I thought I'd lost. He likes to make me happy, he likes seeing me happy and he does BS around with us or his feelings or my feelings.
God…Forget Paris made me fall in love with Chester.
What??
I love Chester. I'm in love with Chester.
Wow…
I love him.
But this should come as no surprise to me.
I think it's a sign, a very long make out session on the front porch for the neighborhood to see after the first date that was strictly (at least in my mind) casual. He was a gentleman and walked me to my door, and then he made his move and I let him.
Okay…now what do I do?
Okay, enough mushy stuff.
So anyway, for some reason lately, I've been eating a lot of frozen pizza. I don't know what the deal is with that. And it's different kinds too: pepperoni, sausage, veggie, three cheese, French bread…it's not time for my period yet, but I'm bloated as hell and I need to give it a rest so that I look good on Friday.
Olivia thinks that it's just one of those weird inexplicable female cravings.
It's completely disgusting. Maybe I just need the carbs or something.
Mm. The lavender smells really good and now I'm sleepy.
I better get out of here before I become the focus of one of those tacky urban legends shows. Okay, it's kind of my guilty pleasure. I love the one where this guy wanted to play a practical joke on his best friend by making him think that he hanged himself. Well, he used some kind of contraption that made it look believable, and the friend walks in and is literally scared to death. Like the guy just THUD…or BOOM…whatever onto the floor and he doesn't get up. How's that for some frickin' irony!
I hated to laugh, but I did. I laughed so. Hard.
Of course, if someone found me drowned in the bathtub 'cause I went into REM…that's not too amusing.
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