ok...i admit it...

I like Katy Perry and Pink. And even though many of the lyrics they come up with are down right filthy, I like 'em anyway. I have lots of their CDs and I blast them in the car whenever I am alone and I pretend I am some badass.

Well, as badass as listening to Pink and Katy Perry can make a person.

And I ignore the fact that I have a booster seat and a baby car seat with me, because you can't be badass when you acknowledge the fact that you will soon be hauling your offspring around.

Wow. I said badass a lot.

Does that make me even more of one now?

It would be awesome if it did.

The end.

fyi...

I have discovered Downton Abbey.

And I have become obsessed.

Much to The Husband's annoyance.

I also have 2 new crushes.

Also to The Husband's annoyance.

That is all.

the boy is nasty...

"I think I should shower. My pits are getting a bit musty. Or I could just put on more deodorant. Or not. The ladies, they like that manly scent, right?"

Oh, son. What on earth am I going to do with you?

happy, happy birthday...

And a very Happy Birthday to you, Mr. Rickman.


Yum.

my attempt at being controversial…

Never mind. I was going to rant about healthcare, abortion rights, and Gay/Lesbian/Transgender rights, but I lost my nerve.

Plus, I don’t want to type for that long.

I find myself in a rut these days. I get up. Get ready for work. Get The Husband and The Kids up and ready to go. Leave for work. Work for 10 – 12 hours. Stress out. Pick up The Kids. Make dinner while The Kids do homework. Feed everyone. Get baths done. Start on piano practice with The Boy and The Girl and entertain The Baby at the same time. Curse The Husband’s job because he never gets off on time. Put The Baby to bed. Finish piano practice. Welcome The Husband home with a snarl and a glare. Put The Boy and The Girl to bed while The Husband eats dinner. Demand that The Husband do the dishes and take out the garbage. Start laundry. Fold laundry from the night before and put away. Make sure The Kids’ school clothes and backpacks are ready to go for the next day. Go get The Baby because she woke up. Feed The Baby while watching Criminal Minds (mmmmm….intense staring from Hotch…yes, I will have a side of Dr. Reid, thanks…). Answer The Husband with a curt “Fine” when he asks how my day was because I don’t want to relive the nightmare that work has become. Ask The Husband what the plans for the weekend are. Finally get The Baby back to sleep. Go to bed. Toss and turn for an hour because I am dreading work tomorrow. Finally fall asleep. Wake up 3 hours later with a fussy Baby. Get The Baby back to sleep. Realize that I have to get up in a ½ hour anyway, so I might as well give up the more sleep idea and get moving for the day.
And repeat over and over and over and over.

Blah.