come on eileen...er...irene...

Well, if you take my last post and add 3 days and a bunch of money spent on junk food (come on...we're not horrible parents, we did have appropriate food for the kiddo) and water and VIOLA we have a hurricane. Here's a shot of "Irene" making its way into Kinston around 8:15 am on August 26, 2011

Here's just one of the yummy delicous things we got to snack on (ps...only i eat this kind of shit)

Here's SoJack playing with a flashlight, being cute. We decided to play with flashlights after we had explained to her about 50 times why she couldn't watch Winnie the Pooh...which is exactly why, by the time another one of these emergency-type situations roll around, we WILL own a portable dvd player. And D batteries. Because apparently D batteries go just as quick as the milk and bread in Kinston. Who knew?!?

And while we were cleaning up Mom & Dad's yard, and by "cleaning up" I mean Katie and I were making Sophie a "Hobbit Hole" out of the big limbs that had fallen, Sophie was taking a capri sun break.
Man it's hard being a kid. In cute rainboots. Standing around. Getting bit by ants.

I cannot complain. We were only without power for a little over 24 hours...which was almost like 24 days. Blessed we were. When Hurrican Floyd smacked us hard back in '99, we were without power at my parents' house for almost a solid week. Not only that but we never wanted to get to Kinston so bad... This time, it wasn't nearly as bad as the city-limit folks had it. 6 days post-Irene and there are still a lot of people without electricity. Never taking it for granted again...and currently working on my "Emergency Must-Have" list.

A fuckin aftershock!? Alright, God. I hear ya.

"What abou tit"

I just cried a little when I thought about how much I would miss Asher & Sophie if I were on Big Brother. While watching of course, not just randomly :)

"People always think the grass is greener. Then they realize it was a moo cow over there crapping all over that grass." -Ahhndrea

There's one sad truth in life I've found
While journeying east and west -
The only folks we really wound
Are those we love the best.
We flatter those we scarcely know,
We please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
To those who love us best.
-Ella Wheeler Wilcox

"You're slow as shit up a hill." -asher

soph: "take your shirt and pantsies off and get in here!"
asher: "nooo"
soph: "it's possible!"

too many mother-uckers uckin with my shiii today.

apple, ball, cat, dog...

This blog isn’t supposed to be entirely about my daughter,

however, when something cool/funny happens, you know I’m gonna blog it.
So, apparently, I’ve been so busy over the past couple of weeks that I have either missed out on/over-looked the fact that my kid can write. Sophie has been a fan (and “fan” is an understatement) of the alphabet since before she turned one. She loves the letters. Big/small.

That they make words. The sounds they make.

I bet if humans could marry the alphabet she’d be the tiniest bride.
So, I sat down on the couch with her on Saturday and we broke out the generic Magnadoodle.

I said, “Sophie, let’s write some words.”

I got an excited reply, “OKAY MAMA!” and off she went.

Who knew? My kid can write.

And she’s 2 ½.

Get. Out. Of. Town.

I said, "Can you write my name?" and VOILA!

She said, "H-A-T, Hat. Haha! With a tiny T!"

We spelled this one together, sounding out the letters of the word.

She was most proud of this...spelling her own name.
Although the "S" is wonky, I'd say for a 2 year old, this is AWESOME!

I know that there are some folks out there who probably think that Asher and I are a couple of fruitloops who beat this into her brain. And to those naysayers...I say, um...sorry you feel this way. Let go of your insecurities and buy your kid some alphabet blocks. If they love them, super. If not...oh well. Each kid is different. I never expected Sophie fall madly in love with the alphabet. Can't even explain how it happened really. But, it doesn't matter. If she'd rather watch phonics videos on YouTube than sit in front of a two-hour Barbie movie, so freakin' be it!

Education is key, people.

what IS that?

It’s no secret that the PA Deptartment has always been referred to as “the toilet.”
Not because we’re shit but because everything ends in our department. The hospital experience starts with registration and ends with the billing….hence….the toilet. And also, people have a tendency to “dump” things on us…because we’re awesome and we can handle anything!

It’s also not a secret that, in our maze, we can smell anything that’s within a 65 mile radius of the hospital. We ALWAYS smell what’s cookin’. We always smell the generators running. And we always know when the crew is cutting the grass outside. Makes for some interesting conversation – as well as sneezing/coughing sounds (especially during allergy season.)
Today there was some conversation about a smell that was coming from somewhere. Of course we were all trying to figure out what it could be.
“Sewage?”
“alcohol-based?”

I initially didn’t smell it. But then it hit me. It smelled like salt water. Then…transformed into what I can only describe as “beach-ass.” Like rotten salt water. Ugh, it was nasty.

Boss Lady: “Amy?! Do you smell that?! Smells like something sweet!”
Me: “Uh. Beach ass with sugar on top, maybe?”

We all got a laugh out of that. Beach ayse.

I should have known better talking like that while Boss Lady was eating her lunch. She’s notorious for having a sensitive stomach. And here we go…I hear her gagging and making her way down the hall to the bathroom. I felt bad.

I told myself, “Aww…Aims, you shouldn’t have been talking about stanky ass while she was trying to eat her lunch!”

When she comes back from the bathroom…

I asked her, “my comment didn’t make you sick did it?”
To which she replied, “no, that black hair in my banana pudding did.”

And…guess where it landed…in the toilet.

"bathing soup"

Sophie came out of the bathroom last night in her usual after-bath attire…her diaper.
She ran back to the bathroom and, a few minutes later, came back to the kitchen where I was and she had on my bikini top.

“Look mama! Your bathing soup!”

Then she grabbed her crotch and said, “Where’s the trinket box…? Let’s go find it!”

Turns out a “trinket box” is actually a bathing soup bottom.
Kids really do say the darndest things.

planking

This picture was taken March 14, 2009...it took the world a little while to catch on.