Clever

Great inventions are simple ideas turned into duh moments for the rest of us. Let me introduce you to The Beer Belly.

This product, as found on coolerfun.com, is truly ingenious.

As the website promotion states, "Getting tired of paying $8.00+ dollars for a beverage at your favorite event? Why not bring 80 oz of your favorite sipper in with you as a spare tire?"

The same company also makes The Wine Rack, which allows women to store an entire bottle of wine in a sports bra while increasing the bust by up to two cup sizes.

And I thought we were sophisticated back in the day sneaking candy bars and canned sodas into a movie theater in an oversized purse.

My logical question:

What about those who already have fat guts and enlarged tops?

Distraction

Life has been crazy the past few days, but in the midst of everything, Anna has started a new trick. And it's really cute.

When I put her in her high chair, she automatically cries until she gets the first Cheerio in her mouth. She then ducks her head under the food tray to play Peek-A-Boo. Over and over again.

I don't know if she started this to trick me into not feeding her another green vegetable, or if she started this to get a closer look at Junior as she is feeding him. Nonetheless, it's cute.

She hides her head away, waits for me to look under the table and chuckles when she sees my face.

This is what the good moments are made of.

We do take timeouts in the middle of our playtime to eat.

I can't believe she's already smart enough to trick me into distraction and I'm dumb enough to fall for it.

Merry Christmas!

Friday night, Anna spent most of the night wailing tunes of distress. The wondrous cacophony of baby cries had me racing for a cure.

Dirty diaper? No.
Hungry? No.
Fever? No.

Our final attempt at relief was the miracle drug Milicon. It didn't seem to work.

About 11:30 p.m., Anna finally drifted to sleep and slept all night.

Fast forward to Saturday.

We decided to drive to Killeen to a Yamaha dealership in search for Chris's birthday gift.

The drive was nice.

We arrived at about 12:30 p.m. to an unexpected gift.

The gift of overflowing poo.

It was now evident that Anna's belly was in much pain the night before.

Anna dropped a devastating Hiroshima-of-a-bomb on the way to our destination. The destruction could be seen and smelled from quite a distance.

I, not yet knowing of the assault, went to unlatch her car seat. Lo and behold, I came out with messy fingers. Very messy. Disgusting, in fact.

I immediately thought: Okay, this can't be too bad. We'll just clean her up, and go into the store.

WRONG.

I unbuckled the seat and removed the perpetrator--only to find a trail of debris.

The entire seat was covered. When I say entire seat, let me be a little more specific.

The buckle itself has more tiny little crevices than you could ever imagine. The belt that holds the buckle has more groves than you could ever imagine. And finally, the little slot in the cloth cover where the belt slips through can hold more leaky goo than you could ever imagine.

That is just the seat.

While holding Anna, it became obvious very quickly that this pond had tributaries. Not only was the mush around her tush, but it also flowed freely down her leg and all the way to her toes--the furthest extremity from the origination point.

At this point, I was laughing because, after all, what else can you do? Humor is the spice of life.

I cleaned up the messy child and seat with the complete contents of a brand new box of wipeys, while Chris went inside to ask for a bag for the hazmat materials.

After having to explain why he needed it, he came out, looking extremely humiliated, to hold a refreshingly clean Anna while I packed the destroyed clothes, diapers and half a pound of wipeys into the trash bag.

We then proceeded into the store like nothing happened--despite the fact that everyone knew what was going on because we were parked right at the front door during this whole fiasco. Not only did they watch the rat race, but they also saw us reluctantly bring the trash bag inside to throw it away because there were no depositories outside.

Whoever said women lose all humility in pregnancy is wrong.

You lose all dignity when your child shits so ferociously that her diaper refuses to levee the flood in a parking lot at a motorcycle shop at an annual Christmas in July sale.

Chris's birthday was yesterday, so I haven't had time to write a blog for today. I have a great one, but give me until later this afternoon. I need that much time to give this story justice.

Oh, Ye of Little Faith

My Scorpio is an absolute ham.

I was so concerned about bringing Anna to work with me on Tuesday. I had no idea how I would juggle her and everything else.

She proved my concerns were futile.

We arrived at work with a caravan of baby products--her walker, a blanket for the floor, toys, snacks, books, bottles, etc.

Contrary to my preparations, all Anna needed was the walker, food and tons of doting attention from 40 or so admiring Realtors.

She ate it up. She laughed, smiled and other than a couple of random ventures, was a perfect angel. Everyone commented on how good she was. I was so proud.

Like Mother, Like Daughter.

If only they could see the horns that sprout from time to time.

An adorable little girl in public. A terror at home.

Breakfast of Champions

My daughter is genious. Pure genious.


At the ripe old age of 8 1/2 months, she has discovered a new delicacy.


Unlike every other breakfast flake, this treat is served with a side of water instead of milk. Even more out of the ordinary--it is served at ground level instead of the normal table top.


Imagine the absolute delight in Anna's eyes when she saw a sea of finger foods screaming Come And Get Me.

With one problem. It wasn't cereal. That's right. You guessed it.

Anna has officially eaten dog food--Pedigree Indoor Complete to be exact. Located in an irrestistibily brightly colored dog bowl rests breakfast, lunch and dinner for Junior and Dexter. And apparently Anna.

After prying the kibbles from her hands and mouth, my daughter was not a happy camper. However, like every other child, she was easily distracted.

By none other than---real Cheerios.

I guess I won't be setting her on the floor while I take a quit potty break in the future.

Geez.

Absence

Let me quickly explain why I may not have a blog for tomorrow.

Joyce, the other lady in the office, is on vacation this week, which normally is no big deal. EXCEPT, we have a luncheon tomorrow, which normally is no big deal. EXCEPT, my baby sitter had to go out of town last minute for a very good reason, which normally is no big deal. EXCEPT I will have to bring Anna to work tomorrow where I will have to chase her and the demands of various Realtors.

As if that isn't enough...

Chris started painting the house this past weekend with plans to finish next weekend, but because Hurricane Mischeif is on its way to the Texas Coast, he is outside painting tonight instead. So I am inside watching Anna Faith because it is way too hot to leave her outside sweating profusely while I help. The much needed rain this storm might bring normally would be a good thing...

...EXCEPT...

Well, you get the point.

Baby Magnet

When I gave birth, I thought I would lose the extra weight. I did lose some. However, separation anxiety has donated a permanent hip attachment. My cushy comfy waist line is the only seat worthy of Anna. (Insert eye roll here.)

Play pen, no. Baby Einstein bouncy seat, no. Elmo walker, no.

Momma's multi-tasking body, yes.

She plays independently very well when wide awake. However, when tired, she is stuck to me like glue---very, very strong glue.

I guess there is good behind all of this.

I'm getting much needed muscle tone by lugging my weighted accessory. Not to mention the cardio from chasing the crawling cruiser.

Confession

I confess.

I have walked into the bathroom--first stall--on multiple occasions. On each trip, right before I assume stance, I realize there is no toilet paper. At which point, I do what most women have done in this same situation.

I slyly glance toward the door to detect any movement.

None.

I listen.

No intruders near.

When I feel it's safe, I then quickly shuffle to the nearest porcelain throne.

I'm home free. This time at least.

Do I learn from my mistake? No. In fact, I have done this at least five times.

The only thing reason I haven't reloaded the dispenser: Knowing the other two in the office are probably frustratingly repeating the same scenario.

Everyone needs a sense of humor. I just employ mine at work.

Intermittent Heartbreak

It's official.

I broke Anna's heart into a million tiny little pieces this morning.

For the first time ever, Anna started the waterworks when I left for work. I knew this day would come, but nothing could prepare me.

I know Grandma Estella can handle her just fine, but who wants to leave their crying, pathetically sad child?

I told her goodbye with a hug and a kiss and another hug, then snuck out the door squelching the overwhelming urge to stay.

I called Chris a few minutes later to make sure my distraught daughter was okay.

He reassured me, "Ya, she's fine. She only cried for about 5 seconds."

Then my heartbreak began.

Really? I'm only worth 5 seconds?

DeLeon Family Zoo

Anna is growing and changing so quickly.

She's feisty, energetic and giving the dogs a run for their money. Junior is looking to escape our house like it's Alcatraz, and Dexter has surrendered to his fate and avoids Anna like the Plague.

She crawls all over the house with lightning speed. She loves cables, cords and anything electronic. She continuously unplugs Chris's printer cable because she likes the sound the computer makes when it's removed.

I can't keep her out of the cabinets, drawers, etc. and she's not even walking. Scary. Very scary.

She's pulling up on everything including Junior who she tries to ride like a horse. Poor dog.

Who needs another sweltering trip to the zoo like last Saturday?

I'll just watch my monkey Anna Faith climb all over our pet giraffe Junior while our muskrat Dexter plots his next conniving trick in revenge for letting her take over his house.

Welcomed Arrival

The invaders have landed. Two of them. Nestled in the banks of Anna Faith's gum line. Their trip was long and arduous, but the treasured cave of baby spit and formula welcomed them with anticipation.

So long teething tablets, baby Tylenol and teething rings. Hello sanity. Well, at least for today, right?

Thank God.

Two teeth down. A mouthful to go.

Catharsis

Dear Mr. Happy,

I am so sorry I got in the way of your Friday afternoon commute. I understand your frustration of having to wait another 2.3 seconds while I was stopped on red, blocking your right turn. Your maturity radiated as you blurred by me in a fit of rage. You should keep your Jeep Grand Cherokee; its window framed your two flying birds perfectly. You probably had a bad day. I hope your little episode provided you with a bit of stress relief. It gave me a chuckle.

Sincerely,

Your Fellow Lorena Citizen

Not Now, Definitely Later

Anna turned 8 months on the 2nd, and for some reason, everyone keeps asking when we are going to give her a little brother or a sister.

And to them I say, "as soon as the following occur":

1) Mr. Clean produces a Magic Eraser for stretch marks.

2) C-section scars become a mark of beauty.

3) Nevermind #2, who even wants the see the belly after #1.

4) Doctors decide pregnant women can eat hotdogs, deli meat, take advil, get pedicures and drink caffeine---tons of caffeine.

5) God decides to make bellies flat and legs tan immediately after child birth.

6) Every Average Joe who knows everything about pregnancy, child birth and raising a child suddenly forgets his or her own name and worldly expertise.

7) All books, news articles and magazines containing all possible complications and don'ts of pregnancy spontaneously combust.

8) They make those urine sample cups bigger. With the belly the size of a car, it's not easy to hit a target the size of a piece of gravel.

9) It is written into law that pregnant women have permission to hit, kick or seriously inflict pain on anyone who uses words such as mammoth, huge or colossal to describe the size of the ever growing belly.

10) Men could feel a fraction of what pregnant women feel when creating life.

So to all of you who keep asking, please reference Numbers 1-10.

We plan to enjoy Miss Anna for a little while before adding to the crew.

Southern Genius

Southerners don't come across as the most intelligent breed. Some argue it's pure stereotype. I have proof it may not be.

The following article was published by the Associated Press--probably because of the news worthy topic and excellent writing. It needs no commentary.


Mercedes-climbing goat, dog picked up by cops
Police arrest goat; dog wanted to go along for the ride
AP- updated 6:55 p.m. CT, Mon., July. 7, 2008

CAPSHAW, Ala. - The goat was arrested, the Mercedes-Benz was assaulted and the dog came along for the ride.

It happened Sunday when a woman driving the Mercedes saw a goat and dog playing on U.S. 72 in northern Alabama, Sheriff Mike Blakely said.

She stopped, afraid they would get hit, Blakely said. But the goat jumped on the car and wouldn't come down. Fearing scratches and dents in her import's paint job, she called the Limestone County Sheriff's Department. A deputy got the goat down and put it in his patrol car, but then the dog jumped into his back seat too.

The deputy took the dog to a veterinarian and the goat to the home of another deputy.

"If anybody is missing a goat and dog, they need to let us know," Blakely said.



Their mothers must be so proud.

Mother of the Year

I have chameleoned my daughter orange.

I was warned but didn't listen.

For those of you who don't know, most baby foods with a meat/veggie combination are tinted orange or yellow. If a baby gets too much of this color spectrum, his or her skin tone will take on the same shade.

I didn't think anything about my potential error since I was mainly focused on the general nutritional intake of her daily meals.

And then...while Uncle Troy-Troy was pointing out how my legs are so white I look transparent, he proclaimed another truth: Anna looked a little orange.

Then it hit me. Like a ton of bricks.

Oh, my gosh. I'm turning her colors!!!

Don't get me wrong. She won't pass for a piece of fruit, a construction cone or a caution sign, but her new hue is somewhat noticeable if pointed out.

So last night, I loaded her up, took her to Brookshire's, and bought green. Tons of green. Broccoli, peas, green beans, garden vegetables. Anything but orange.

Bless her heart. She'll go back to normal in a few days.

I wonder when they are giving out the Mother of the Year Award. This should definitely make me a candidate.

Independence Day Adventures

Anna Faith had a very busy 4th.

First thing in the morning, we visited my grandparents, where she Hoovered any and every microscopic tidbit she could grasp. It's funny how a child so young can detect particles so small.

Then on the way to MeMe and Papa's house, we stopped by Toys R Us to pick up an umbrella stroller. I sat Anna down in the bubble gum pink transporter and pushed her to the checkout at front of the store, where we waited on a receiptless customer arguing over a return. By the time we paid and left, Anna was very comfortable. She loved the stroller--so much that she threw a huge fit in the parking lot because she didn't want to get out.

After repairing her little broken heart, we headed to Lorena, where she swam all afternoon. She splashed herself, dipped her face in the pool and floated in her blow-up jet ski.

We headed home with a tuckered Anna Faith late in the afternoon.

Soon after, Anna passed out watching, of course, motorcycle races with Daddy. Angels are cutest when they sleep. She was so peaceful, and in true DeLeon fashion, quite adorable (like her Momma).

No fireworks this 4th of July. She didn't even make it until sunset. Maybe next year.

Anna's 1st 4th

This blog is short, sweet and to the point because I am doing what everyone should be doing on the 4th. Relaxing with the family. Be safe, take care and don't try to light that last firework whose fuse is too short to be visible. It's okay to save your fingers to go with one less piece of visual amusement. Enjoy your weekend!

Sleep is Overrated

What was I doing at 2:00 this morning? I'm so glad you asked.

While most of you were probably fast asleep lost in dreamland, I was trying to quiet a screaming child who is still cutting her first tooth. Chris was fast asleep, snoring, in fact. The dogs were rustling around wanting to go outside.

Why not, right? I'm not busy enough.

Let's see if I can hold onto a wailing child, a bottle and my sanity all while turning the back doorknob to let the four legged creatures outside just so they can obnoxiously bark to wake the entire neighborhood.

I finally got the dogs settled, the child asleep and me back in bed...at 3:30 a.m.!

Oh, the joys of motherhood!

Laughter--The Best Medicine

We have resorted to humor. Pure laughter to get us through. With stress levels hovering above normal, just one break in the administrative mess sent us overboard.

In walks Mr. E-PRM. He enters into the office, sits down in front of my desk and immediately proceeds to tell me about the mole he just had burned off his ear and much more. His full disclosure was icing on an already crumbling cake.

I try to be professional. Sometimes it doesn't work.

I understand this is not funny to most, but he, once again, played into the predictability he constantly carries with him. I could barely hold back the flood of brewing humor in my gut.

And then...

A diversion from previous conversation.

In his youth, Mr. E-PRM did a very good impression of an actor from the first motion picture with sound. The details continued as if I had ample time to listen in awe. I was trying with all of my might not to burst into a fit of confused why-are-you-telling-me-this laughter when he broke into his impression. A song.

He was born in the twenties, and he was performing his Jay Leno, George W. Bush, Rosanne Barr impression of his era. I guess he thought this portrait of his personal history would interest me. What was most difficult for me when trying not to laugh was his straight faced sincerity. He was pouring his heart out.

I laughed--out of shock...mole talk, now this? What else could come out of this man's well-intentioned mouth?

Today, July 1st, 2008, I learned the value of We laughed until we cried.

Of course, we waited for him to leave.

Barely.