Where The Sun Don't Shine

Back in November, I went to the doctor because I was still having issues down under from giving birth. During the examination she noticed a couple of freckles on my inner butt cheek and referred me to a dermatologist. Well, between Nola's tummy issues and the move, it took me until this week to get to the doctor. After seeing it, she scheduled me for a biopsy. Am I a little worried about this suspicious freckle? Me? Worry? Um, yeah. In fact, FREAKED OUT is more like it. But I have to wait two weeks to get the biopsy and another week for the results so I am trying not to fixate on it.

Closer to a Year Than Just Born

Nola is eight months old tomorrow. She is constant motion. I thought her goal was to walk. I am wrong. Her goal is to run. She is a giggling, screaming, crawling, babbling, standing, peek-a-boo playing ball of energy. She is so busy. She is consumed with life. She is everything bright and beautiful. She is my favorite person. My brother-in-law hypothesized that as soon as she learns to run she'll realize that what she really wants to do is fly. I think he may be right.

Tummy Time

This is my muffin top.

I don't think these pictures quite do it justice but it is the biggest tummy I have ever had.

aside from when I was pregnant.

Good Thing I'm on Zoloft

I had been thinking lately of getting off my crazy drugs because I feel like my body has stabilized and therefore my hormones aren't making my brain a sea of anxiety. Even with the state of the economy, the fact that our environment is seriously fucked, the reality of making a huge move which includes being away from Dylan most of the week, and having recently found a scorpion in the garage, I have been feeling pretty balanced.

But then came the swine flu. Fuck. A 23 month old died. The president is telling schools to close if they suspect cases. And all I can say is thank god for Zoloft because without it I might be huddled in a corner holding Nola praying the rosary.

Before/After

I wasn't kidding when I said my roots were SCARY. I finally got my hair done a couple weeks ago. I hadn't had my hair done since before Nola was born. As god is my witness, I will never go this long again. This is a promise I am keeping to myself. After two weeks, I am still thanking heaven every time I pass a mirror. I have my next appointment scheduled.

Before:



After:

Now I have to work on those eyebrows.

Crawling is for Babies

Nola has never really liked being a baby. She was squirmy from the moment she was born. She is also not content with "baby steps" in her development. Rolling over? No big deal. Sitting up? Whatever. Crawling? Not when I can stand. She desperately wants to walk. It consumes her all day. And she is sooo frustrated. I want her to walk so badly because I know it will make her happy. But I can't tell you how many times throughout the day I wish she would just be content to let me hold her on my lap and snuggle.

Happiness is...

It pains me to know that there are so many ignorant Americans. Maybe it is because we don't put enough money into our schools. Higher taxation is linked to happiness as is evidenced by countries such as Denmark which have high taxation but are also the most content people on earth. The wealthy 1% in the country use the ignorant conservative right wingers to line their pockets. These racist pigs are nothing more than pawns:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/04/16/10-most-offensive-tea-par_n_187554.html

Happiness doesn't come from low taxes nor does freedom.

http://abcnews.go.com/2020/story?id=4086092&page=1