This picture basically describes her overall mood yesterday... read why below

What an eventful week it’s been! From baptism to boo boos, we’ve had it all!

As you know from Monday’s post, we were blessed enough to have some amazing friends and family join us for Keelin’s baptism. It was such a beautiful, emotional, and uplifting service and Keelin was a complete angel… despite a minimal meltdown after the priest was finished speaking. My parents made the trek from VA and spent some real quality time with the bean…

Keelin also participated in her first SUPER TUESDAY! Obviously she didn’t vote, but she did come with us while we cast our ballots and got some very nice compliments by a few of the workers! She’s basically a celebrity.

But I would have to say that the most eventful part of the week was yesterday’s 2 month check up where she received 2 nasty old shots that made both of us cringe. I was actually surprised at how well she handled it, and pretty impressed with my own courage as well!

She had been fussy on and off throughout the whole appointment and I knew all hell would break loose once the needles came out. She received 5 different vaccinations but THANKFULLY one of the shots was a three in one. I don’t know what I would have done if she needed five different sticks. Actually, cried my eyes out… that’s what I would have done! Anyway, as the nurse came in with her evil tools of torture I braced myself for screams and waterworks and my heart broke slightly when she asked me to hold her legs down while she administered the shots. Thank goodness we don’t remember anything from this time in our lives or we would all hate our parents. Good intentions or not, we’re all guilty by association when it comes to the pain of shots. ūüė¶

I made a point NOT to watch the needle, but to focus on my sweet girl’s face. The second the first shot went in Keelin’s eyes got HUGE and her mouth slowly started to quiver. It was basically the saddest thing I’d ever seen. She let out a WAIL and I did everything I could to fight back my own tears. The nurse was great at being quick with the 2nd shot and after another loud cry from the bean, it was all over. I immediately let go of her legs and went to pick her up, but noticed she was totally silent in shock from the pain and slightly blue in the face from holding her breath. Clearly she’s practicing for future protests when something doesn’t go her way. I blew in her face to make her take a breath in {a fun little reflex, if you ask me} and we snuggled for the next 10 minutes. ¬†The rest of the day she was pretty mellow {I gave her some infant Tylenol to help with any soreness} and QUITE the sleepy bean.

But then it came time to take the band aids off of her tiny thighs. ¬†I thought I was pretty tough for being able to hold back my tears when she got the shots, but I basically crumbled when she let out an even louder cry after I… me, her mother, who is supposed to comfort and protect her… pulled the first band aid off. Hear that? It’s the sound of my heart shattering into a million pieces. It threw me off so much that I had to get Z to do the 2nd one, at which point the pieces of my heart that had previously shattered were turned to dust with another pitiful scream. Oh the horror! Next time I’m taking the advice of some mommy friends and making sure I don’t wait as long to remove the band aids and putting her in a warm bath to help calm her and soften the sticky. Shame on me for not doing that this time anyway. Puh.

Besides the EVIL and heartbreaking vaccination/band aid experience, the report from her check up was all wonderful! She weighed in at 10 lbs 4 oz and is in the 50th percentile for height, length, and head¬†circumference. ¬†I love love love her pediatrician and am so happy to have the infamous “first shot” trauma behind me. Now I have two months to prep for the next round. Sniffle sniffle.

Until next time…

If you look closely in this week’s photo, you can see the tiny marks on her thighs from each shot. Here, let me illuminate them to make myself feel even worse. Sniffle.

puh. ūüė¶

Sometimes I really hate people… pardon the incoming profanity.

As you may remember from a recent weekly onesie post… the hubs and I got a new car. A hot new “cool mom” car. This one to be exact:

ain't she a beauty!?

LOVE LOVE LOVE this car. The Ford Flex. It’s spacious {seats 7 so we can start building our family circus!}, comfortable {easily lets me load the bean in and out} and super smooth {when we went to test drive it I had to ask the guy if the engine was on}. ¬†Keelin loves it and I couldn’t be more happy with our choice and investment.

Well last night, this happened:


Z and was downtown to see his brother compete in a charity flair¬†bar tending¬†competition {which he, at only 21 years old, won by the way!!} when he heard, “Would the owner of a red Ford Flex please come to the front of the bar” announced over the speakers. Because its Atlanta, his first thought was that he’d gotten towed but when he met with the manager of the bar, he learned it was much worse. A half a dozen cars had been busted into that night, ours included, and many of the others had valuables stolen. It seems some assholes saw our diaper bag, thought it was a computer bag, smashed our windows to get to it and opened it up only to find burp cloths and diapers. I’m secretly… who am I kidding, NOT SECRETLY… hoping they had a HUGE rush of guilt when they saw nothing but diapers in the bag. If I could implant an inner monologue it would go something like this:

“Oh no, there’s no laptop in here, just diapers. Newborn diapers so they must have just had a baby. A really cute and sweet and innocent baby. Oh, wow, I feel like a total JACK ASS for breaking into this awesome car, putting strain on the lives of the owners and their new child. Oh wow, that’s a car seat base and a stroller. I bet they have their baby out with them now {he didn’t} and will have to wait in the cold with a newborn {also didn’t happen, but would have definitely sucked}. I’m such a terrible person. I should go turn myself into the PO PO right away.”

Clearly that didn’t happen but a girl can dream.

Can I just say that sometimes I really hate people?!?!?!

Someone thought they were slick and, being too lazy to get a REAL JOB, decided to put a kink in the lives of a half a dozen people just for some cheap thrill and the possibility of finding something worth stealing. Yes, our car is totally awesome and yes, it looks new and expensive enough to possibly be home to some nice swag, so clearly it would be prime choice for window smashing and rummaging. Really people? This is how you find fulfillment in your lives? This is what you do to make yourself feel better and hopefully snag yourself some awesome appliance or at least get your hands on something you can sell off later? Bravo. You are truly a model citizen.

Let me add that this was not a bad part of town {notice the boutique in the background}. And when it comes to the decent parts of Atlanta, you can bet there are¬†security¬†cameras somewhere in the area, which there were. So hopefully whatever dumbass did this was caught on camera and will get what’s coming to them.

I’m a good Christina woman and I would never wish anything BAD to happen to anyone but this is truly ridiculous and makes it quite difficult to ‘forgive’. But I do forgive you, jerk, despite the fact that you’ve added more stress to my life and another bill to the pile.

I am thankful that nothing was taken and it was only the windows that were ruined, but that doesn’t mean I won’t sit and sulk for the next few days at the sheer STUPIDITY of it all. GRRRRR. People suck.

Until next time…

What kinds of people do YOU think suck? Join me in my pool of sulk!



First NEW JOB Funny Story, That Has Really NOTHING To Do With My New Job

As many of you know I have a new job.
It’s a HUGE improvement from the hell hole of terror and fear that I was in before and I’m loving just about everything about it. My coworkers are fantastic, my boss is fun and hysterical, my workspace is open and sunny and while the commute has definitely boosted my road rage, going into the city for work makes me feel like some big shot business woman from a romantic comedy. {Yes, I’m a dork}
While there are plenty of areas to eat within the office, the warm Georgia weather has been calling my name to bask in it’s glory. So, to show respect to Mother Nature, I’ve started taking advantage of the patio on the first floor and have been eating lunch outside. Not only to bask in the Georgia heat but to get a little sun while I’m at it.
Normally people don’t pay much attention to me, probably because I’m sitting alone, wearing sunglasses, with my nose buried in Something Borrowed by Emily Griffin {currently at least}.

A must read!… excited to see the movie once I’m finished!

Every so often someone might approach me to share my table and umbrella or to snag one of the vacant chairs surrounding lonely little me. I always agree with a smile and continue on with my lunch and reading. No big deal. Totally normal. 

That was until a few days ago when I was joined by a very ‘interesting’ character. A character that had me questioning not only the country’s educational system as a whole but a number of other facets of life. 
Now I’ll be the first one to admit that our full interaction isn’t really something I would expect people to be shocked at, but I just wanted to share it with all of you to, once again, see if my internal reaction was totally nuts or totally warranted. 
So, as usual I was sitting by myself, enjoying my lunch, a great book, and the bright shining sun on my shoulders and I noticed there was someone walking towards me. I looked up and saw a real-life fashion train wreck. I’m no fashionista but at least I know this much… a skin tight, black and white, horizontally striped mini-skirt paired with a low cut black tank top with a little flash of purple bra and streaks of red in your hair is the perfect recipe for disaster. I did a pretty good job of keeping my composure but little did I know that my attempt to keep my jaw from wagging open in shock would soon be joined by the need to avoid giving this chick a full-fledged “WTF” face.  
As she gets closer, she points to one of the empty chairs at my table and says, “Uuhhm, can I plop a squat right heeya?”. 
Dear Board of Education,
When people speak this way in grade school, please do not assume that they will grow out of it with maturity or that it’s simply a way to rebel against traditional forms of order. It’s a serious problem that needs to be remedied… BEFORE they are released into the REAL WORLD and expected to make a name for themselves. 
Quit effing things up.
Someone who knows how to speak without sounding like a total bonehead.
So, while keeping my face in check, I simply smiled and said, “Yes, of course.”
Hoping Thinking that was the end of the conversation, I went back to my book but the fashion victim continued her awkward introduction with, “I idn’t {intentionally spelled wrong to fully identify what this girl sounded like} meanta interrrrupt yo lunch o nuthin.”
What I said: “Oh no, you’re fine”
What I wanted to say: “Learn to speak properly before opening your mouth again I’ll be less irritated with your CONTINUED interruptions.”
We sat in silence for a good 10 minutes as I alternated between reading, basking in the sunlight and munching on my PB&J. She was filling out some kind of paperwork, jib-jabbin on her phone and going to town on a bag of pork rinds. {yes, pork rinds} All was well with the world until I switched over from my PB&J to a bowl of cottage cheese and peaches. It’s not for everyone but it’s an all time favorite of mine.  


The Fashion Victim piped up and said, “Is that uuuuhm, that fruit and cream cheese stuff?” 
Cream cheese?
Me {accompanied with a snobby hidden eye roll behind my sunglasses}: “Cottage cheese”
Fashion Victim: “Uggghhh, I hate that stuff but my mama luuuuvs it.”
Me: blank stare. 
I totally understand that everyone has their own opinion when it comes to what you eat but when you have just joined a complete stranger who is obviously content doing her own thing without your spastic commentary, the proper course of action is NEVER to say that what she’s eating is gross. Just some FOOD for thought, friend. 
Soon after our cheese exchange her phone rang and it appeared that whoever she was ‘ploppin a squat’ to wait for had arrived. Drat… 
I was actually a little bummed that I wouldn’t get more material for a witty story-telling blog post until she had gathered her things, stood from the table and proceeded to top off the lunch hour with a conversational WINNER! 
Fashion victim: “Ain’t get ta meet cha but have a good rest o yo day”
Me {unsure of what was actually just said to me}: “Um, thanks. You too?”
And with a flash of her too-tight-for-comfort striped skirt she was gone… and I was utterly satisfied knowing I could take away just enough to compile this sassy post. 
But let’s be serious for a minute. 
I’m not sure where this chick was coming from, or where she was going, but based on the general age of people I normally see coming out of our building with folders in hand and “interview attire” I’d venture to guess that there is some kind of “real world prep” course being offered to students and recent grads interested in getting interview and resume help. If that’s the case I really hope that she wasn’t coming from or going to an interview because anyone in their right mind would turn her away at the first flash of her purple bra. If they took a leap of faith and gave her the benefit of the doubt DESPITE her choice of attire, the second she opened her mouth they would have wondered where she got such a realistic counterfeit high school diploma from and said, “Thanks, but no thanks!”
The moral of the story:
Learn proper grammar.
Figure out what professional attire means.
Realize that no matter how cute your bra is, no one wants to see it.
Don’t talk about my cottage cheese.
And realize that NO ONE should ever eat pork rinds. 

Until next time… 
Have you ever encountered someone that makes you question America’s educational system? Share your story with the class. 

OMG! Like, is that like, hot?

Oh friends, do I have a tale to share with you!
Z and I encountered a group of morons last Friday night that made me feel like I was back in high school. Only not really because my friends in high school didn’t talk like these¬†buffoons. And if they did they probably wouldn’t have been my friends for that long. {That sounds really harsh but it will all make sense soon}
Z and I were out at Kampai hibachi and sushi celebrating my new job! {woot woot!} I’m sure you’ve all been to a restaurant like this, it’s the kind where they cook your food in front of you.

I’ve always loved these places because they make me feel like a kid on an elementary school field trip. I’m still amazed at the huge bursts of fire, egg tossing and knife spinning. Plus the food is fantastic and the white seafood sauce {aka YUM YUM sauce} is to die for. Seriously, when I’m old and heading toward the light, just hook that stuff up to my IV and let me go in creamy delicious peace. MMMM Yum Yum. ūüôā

Anyway, when we arrived at the restaurant {by motorcycle of course… so B.A.} all the tables were full and most were already cooking up a storm so we were seated at an empty table and the waitress took our drink order. We were soon joined by a woman and her squirmy little boy, about 2 years old. As she walked in and got him situated in a high chair she informed us that it was “close to his bed time”. She probably wanted to warn us just in case he started screaming and decided to throw his pacifier into the fried rice. The kid was fine and barely made a peep but it was our next set of guests that had Z, myself and mama bear cringing every time they opened their mouths.¬†
As we sat in peace, watching the royal wedding recap {I was watching, Z was entertaining the squirmy baby with funny faces and strange noises} our moment of tranquility was suddenly breached by valley girl chit chat, annoying giggles and too-cool-for-school bad-ass bro rebuttal. Apparently Dumb, Dumber and Drunk McGee were the final three to complete our table for the evening. The two girls had platinum blonde hair and eyeliner so thick they made Jack Sparrow look like make-up perfection:
They both had on SKIN TIGHT dresses and sky high heels. Their bumbling idiot of a companion looked, smelled and sounded like he’d already taken a swim in a keg of Natty Light and tried to cover it up with some cheap calogne. It was then that we knew that it was going to be an interesting night.¬†
When the waitress {who was a tiny mouse of a lady} came to take their drink orders the girls blurted out their diet soda requests {why was I not surprised?} and Drunk McGee ordered a Sake Bomb. {so much for my quiet evening of celebration with the hubs} I had never heard of a Sake Bomb but knew it had to be bad news. For those of you who are as in the dark as I was, a Sake Bomb is basically a Jager bomb with warm Sake. 

The waitress set the first one up for him, placing a napkin on the table in case of spillage. I’m not sure if the napkin is a normal practice or if she just had an¬†inkling¬†that Drunk McGee would find a way to make a mess. Either way, we watched in slight horror as the sure-to-be-catastrophe continued. McGee asked the super sweet waitress how to count to three in Japanese to make things REALLY official, and she informed him it was ichi-ni-san {itchy, knee, sahn}. Great, now the drunk smelly boy is speaking poor Japanese.
Now before I go on, there’s one more detail you should know. There is one other difference between a Jager bomb and a Sake bomb. As you see in the picture, the Sake is suspended above the glass of beer by two chopsticks. With Jager bombs you drop the shot into the glass but Sake bombs require a little more SHOW. In order to get the Sake to drop in the glass, one must BANG ON THE TABLE until the vibration makes the Sake drop. {hurray}
So. Drunk McGee YELLS for the entire restaurant to hear, “ICHY, NI, SAN” and proceeds to crash his¬†behemoth-like fist repeatedly on the table until the chopsticks part ways and the shot drops making a fizzy mess. The blonde bimbos giggled and clapped then cheered him on as he chugged the bubbling concoction {and by chugged I mean managed to only get 1/2 in his mouth while the rest flowed down the sides of his face… keeping it classy, of course}.
Once the excitement died down we put in our dinner order while the rest of the table continued to search the menu. Dumb and Dumber felt the need to talk the rest of us through their decision making processes as they figured out what and how much they wanted to eat. 

  • “OMG, do they have sushi here? We should totally do sushi. Where’s the waitress, I want sushi” -Dumb
  • “I’m getting the steak, I think. Or should I get chicken. I, like, can never decide. Maybe I’ll just get both, I can totally eat both.” -Dumber
  • “Doesn’t the salad come with that, like, REALLY good pink dressing stuff. I think it’s ginger or something. Is it ginger? That shit’s my favorite, what is it?” {yes, all three of them were cursing like sailors in ear shot of the little boy at the other end of the table. His mother’s eyes got bigger and bigger with each f-bomb. I’m surprised she didn’t say anything.} -Dumber
  • “Yo, how much food you gettin anyways? NO way you can eat all that shit.” – Drunk. McGee
  • “Oh my god, that grill is like, really really hot. I almost touched it you guys. HAHA. What if I had touched it?” – Dumber
  • “Yo, check it, it’s Sake bomb time!” – Drunk McGee

Now normally when I go to these places I walk in knowing good and well that I will NOT be able to finish my meal, because it’s NEVER HAPPENED. But I’m always excited that I’ll have left overs for the next day’s lunch! People, these girls BOTH ordered full plates of sushi with 10 rolls each and a full hibachi meal including a starter soup and salad {the ones with that good pink dressing stuff}.¬†
After they ordered things moved pretty fast. When the chef entered the room with his cart of goodies and tricks I was excited and ready to block out the idiocy beside me. That lasted about 2 seconds before dumber yelled out, “Please don’t give me any of that white sauce. That stuff is nasty. I only like the brown sauce, thaaaaaanks.” If I were not in such a good mood from learning of my new job I may have flown across the table to grab her and attempt to shake out the stupid. {It would have taken a LOT of shaking} The chef looked at her like the rude idiot she was, smiled, nodded and proceeded with this personalized cooking show. He was really fun and kept trying to get us to¬†interact¬†with him but dumb and dumber had moved on to a more important topic:

Dumber: “OMG that Asian girl wrote on your facebook wall? {yes, she said ASIAN GIRL}
Dumb: No, way, did she really? 
Dumber: Um, YEAH, Do you even know her? 
Dumb: No, ew. Why is she writing on my wall?
Dumber: What the hell, like, why did you accept her friend request?
Dumb: Oh my god, I don’t even know. Maybe I was drunk. HAHAHAHA!
Dumber: Oh my god I was so hungover this morning. Last night was, like, totally nuts.

This conversation carried on for the next 5 minutes until the chef started chucking pieces of egg into people’s mouths. He did a great job at making it look like it was part of the act but I think he was secretly trying to get them to shut up. Kudos chef man!

Once Drunk McGee had his turn at catching egg in his mouth he asked the chef if he could squirt Sake into his mouth next. Let me add that he was probably 3 Sake bombs deep at this point. At first I really thought the chef was going to do it but instead he used one of the many gag squirt bottles to fake Drunkface out. I found great pleasure in his humiliation. 
Next up, Dumber BLURTS out at the chef, “OMG, like, where is our sushi? Shouldn’t it be done by now? Isn’t it supposed to come before the meal?”. I swear chef man could have burned a hole in her head with the look he gave her but he shook it off, smiled and said that the sushi bar was really swamped and it should be out soon.¬†
 The rest of the night was as idiotic as the start, with more Sake bombs {yes, even more}, stupid comments and pictures being taken. Then Dumber saw someone she knew from across the room and proceeded to yell his name out to get his attention. He seemed to have the same number of brain cells that they did. 
Did I mention it was Dumb’s birthday? Yeah, she got a {FREE} giant piece of fried ice cream cake with a candle on top, which Dumber immediately commented on with, “Um, what the hell is that?” but not before the announced that the waitress ruined the surprise by telling them they were bringing out something special for the birthday girl. {She will do great things in life}¬†
The moral of this story is, avoid dropping your babies on their heads in the first few years of their life, avoid eating mushrooms unless they are in the produce section of a grocery store and when that little voice in your head tells to to take a big wif of that Sharpie marker, tell it to shove off. 

Until next time…
Have you ever had to share a dinner table with the world’s worst dinner guests?¬†