Three "Baby Story"s later

and I really want a baby.

I know, fucking craziness.

I was already sweating the maternity session, because seeing pregnant bellies always makes me want to have one...so it was total insanity to watch this crap today. (In all fairness, I didn't turn it to this, it was already on this channel.)

I really just want to be pregnant (but not for a whole 9 months), give birth (it's just so exciting), breastfeed (I miss it. I know that's weird) and snuggle a newborn for a few weeks (ahhh, the smell).

Don't worry, I'm not crazy enough to do it, in fact I'll probably avoid sex for the next two months or so, just to be sure. Maybe forever even.

It's just too risky.

Surrogacy

I'm watching A Baby Story (which I try to never do, because it makes me want babies) and the pregnant woman is a surrogate for her brother and his gay lover.

She's already had one child for them and is giving that child a sibling.

There is something really heartwarming and very touching about this story, regardless of your feelings on gay marriage or partnership.

What a ginormous, loving sacrifice to make.

How amazing that these men will have children with both of their DNA, and there is do doubt that this child is going to be born into an incredibly loving family.

Will she be teased in school?

Of course, every child is teased in school.

Anyway, I'm trying to get out of my dumb "clean for one hour" plan. I have a Mother's Day Luncheon with The Jews and that 4pm maternity session and that sounds like more than enough for the day. It is two things, after all.

Overnight Wrap-up

When I walked in the door to pick Big Kid up, he took one look at me and burst into tears, screaming that he didn't want to go home and wished I wasn't there.

Gee thanks, I missed you too.

So because I didn't feel like fighting, and because it did sound like fun, we negotiated to having Em and family over for pizza and Wii tonight.

I know, I know, I have lots of stuff I should be doing instead, and it's a school night for Big Kid, but this sounds like way more fun than any of that.

So we'll get our two totally exhausted four year olds back together and enjoy each other's company for the evening.

On the way home:

Ashley: Oh my goodness, that little kid is not in a carseat in that car next to us.
Big Kid: One time, I bemembered dat Em was in our car wif no carseat, dest a single stwap.
Ashley: No! That never happened!
Big Kid: Yes it did too. I bemember, we were going out to eat, and I bemembered it 'cuz Emmers was not in a carseat, dest in a stwap.
Ashley: Big Kid, that never happened. Not in my car. Oh! I think there was one time we met them at KMart and I let her ride in our car to the McDonald's in the same parking lot, in just a seatbelt.
Big Kid: Nope, dat was not da time So dere was dat time too. But I bemember dis one all da time 'cuz we were going out to eat.

Now let me tell you with ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY that this did not happen. I remember even being nervous about the 50 feet in the empty parking lot to the McDonald's. I really hope he isn't "bemembering" this stuff to other people when I'm not around.

Anyway, it seems that the overnight was a success. Although I guess at one point Big Kid smacked Emmers and then immediately ran to LK and begged her "not to tell Ashley 'bout da smackin'" which she immediately IMed me and told me about.

Then when I arrived, Em kept whispering to LK to be sure I was told about the smacking. Finally we got in the car and closed the doors and Big Kid immediately blurted out "I smacked Em, and I'm sowwy and feel bad." and we had a talk about hitting.

It wasn't much of a talk because he felt so bad, and had tattled on himself, and seriously knew what he did was wrong. He said "Sometimes she's dest so fwustwatin' and I dest got out of contwol and I smacked her. And dat was bad. I really dest wuv her lots dough."

He's sitting here anxiously awaiting her arrival. I actually had sufficient motivation to unearth the laundry couch. I didn't just hide the clean laundry either, I actually put it away.

So I did accomplish something today.

Now I can hang out guilt free.

Life Wants Stuff

Delightfully, I slept until 10:30am this morning! I think because loud mouthed Big Kid was out of the house, or maybe because I had sweat soaked nightmares all night and needed more sleep so it would count as resting. Regardless, that was nice.

I guess Mr. Ashley called Em's house this morning to check on Big Kid. Upon hanging up, LK told Big Kid that his dad had just called.

Big Kid: I'm not goin' home. Tell him not to pick me up.
LK: Oh, he was just calling to check on you.
Big Kid: I'm not gonna go home yet. I'm not ready. Tell him to stay dere.
LK: No one is coming to pick you up yet, he just wanted to see how you are.
Big Kid: Okay, dest so he knows I'm not comin' home yet. I'm not ready.

So I guess it is going well. Around 10pm last night, Big Kid walked up to LK, gave her a hug, told her he was really tired, and put himself to bed. He has been cracking out on their Baby Einstein collection, but otherwise the whole event seems like it has been pretty painless for everyone involved.

I have a maternity shoot tomorrow afternoon, a family beach shot Saturday evening, senior announcements and prints to order, and the laundry couch isn't even identifiable as a couch anymore...more like a couch shaped pile of laundry. Also, my pantry STILL isn't put back together. (I know, that last part is embarrassing to admit.)

Most importantly, I have so much in my brain to get out to you all, that I feel as if I'm going to burst. I have to tell you that I'm going green (and you are too, I know it sucks, we're busy, we don't want to, but it is time), about several great new products I've encountered, I STILL want to show you the pics from Catfish's dad's benefit and believe it or not, Em's birthday party (Yeah, that was January), I still want to share my Real Housewives opinions and various other outdated opinions I know that you are dying to hear.

It's like I need a whole week JUST to blog.

But my clients and the laundry couch and my sleep schedule (I've been going to bed at human times lately, this is very inconvenient for the closet), don't understand that I NEED some freaking time with you all.

Tomorrow, I'm thinking of waking up, and cleaning for ONE HOUR STRAIGHT. Yuck. I know. I like my 15 minute increments better, but they are getting me nowhere quick. Maybe if I can catch up on crap around here in a major way, I can have at least one day next week of doing nothing but sitting on the couch and talking to you all.

re: The Book Deal

Whenever I start talking about how to make money, you all start talking about a book deal. Which is all well and good, I am honored that you would all read such a book.

I just don't really want to write a book.

What would I even write a book about? It sounds like a lot of work, and like it would keep me from you.

I would rather just make money doing this, and it be considered "writing". This is more fun for me, and much easier, plus I like that it's a constantly changing sort of thing.

And don't forget...I wrote that series of short children's stories with the main character based on Big Kid, and never sent them anywhere. I just reread them the other day and they're still really good. But who even knows where to start with that sort of thing.

It would really suck to write a long book and then not know what to do with it.

Ideas I did like: having a store or making you all give me a dollar.

Maybe I will refuse to post until another $10 (or whatever, make it $20) is raised. So really you'll all control how much I post. Like a pay per post sort of thing.

As great as the whole "get a lot of readers, advertisers will start throwing money at you" theory sounds, it's not as easy as that, believe it or not.

And suspiciously, Blogher ads says it takes 30 days to process an application, but I applied several months ago. I even followed up a few weeks ago...nada. Whatever, I can take a hint.

So, continue brainstorming, but don't be waiting on the edge of your seat for a book or anything.

Big Kid

is spending the night at Em's tonight.

I'm not shouting from the roof tops with glee, because the problem child is still here.

I was thinking about just dropping him off on my parents' doorstep, but they would know where to bring him back to, and would not hesitate to do so immediately. So it wasn't worth the waste of gas to even try.

Big Kid needed a little bit of unconditional Em love...I think Vivi has moved on.

The other day we were talking about how he behaves at school when he doesn't get his way and he said, "Like when my Vivi dest wants to pway wif Reese instead of me? I dest do sumtin' else instead. By myself." Hmmm, that seemed sad but strange.

Then on Sunday he said "I can't wait to go to school tomowwow and see my Vivi. But sometimes see doesn't want to pway wif me because I dest wuv her too much. She says sometimes I dest wuv her too much, and den I go pway all by myself."

Wow. How sad.

I suspect he's a bossy little punk these days, because we made the mistake of teaching him to assert himself with little kid.

I also know he has no shortage of friends, so if he's playing alone, it's because his bizarre insistence that "ponies are for gulls" or people are "dest doin' it wrong".

So, he's off for a little Em time, complete with unconditional love and friendship.

He happily ran into their house and made a beeline for their movie cabinet, so he could check out which Baby Einsteins movies she has (I know, he's a total freakazoid.) It's his first real overnight, and he wasn't even sad to see me go. Actually, he seemed annoyed that I stayed for as long as I did.

So wish Em's mom (LK, who needs a new name since so many of you confuse this with little kid) luck...she's going to need it.

Dear Jezebel,

I have been trying not to write this letter since March.

First, you won the Bloggie for best new blog (and best group blog, which you deserved). I had warned everyone well in advance that if I didn't win, I was going to accuse the winner of cheating. Which I did. I kept it short and simple, pointed out that a slick Gawker owned site with seven paid contributing editors wasn't really your typical "blog" and moved right along.

(Although it hurt, I'll say it. I often think about how you probably stole my only chance at a Bloggie. I can't hang with the big dogs I'll be thrown to next year, you know, the Perezes and Dooces and Icanhascheezeburgers of the world. Best New Blog was my shot. But whatever, I tried to be a gracious loser.)

Then my mom called the other day and was all like "Oh, that blog Jezebel is in our local paper and it's all about how bloggers are getting all rich and famous--" and I cut her off with a quick "Jezebel is not a blog, it's a website" and moved along, again.

But now...well now it's time to talk.

You see, yesterday I received an email from ABCNews.com, wanting me to call them to discuss Yo Gabba Gabba. Oh my. That is so big time (and total terror for a phone phobe, but I was going to do it). Unfortunately, I was on my way out the door to a photoshoot, so sent them an email with my phone number saying they could call me or I'd call them later that afternoon or first thing in the morning.

I know. It was ABCnews.com. I should've dropped everything. But I'm dumb, and I need money, and had an appointment. You see, no one pays me to blog, but we'll get to that. I am naive (read: dumb, but I said that already) and thought I could do both.

But apparently, one of your writers, who does get paid to blog, and apparently even gets paid to smoke pot AND blog...was able to call back right away.

First, someone gets paid to smoke pot and then blog while high? How much do you pay them for this?

Because I'll do it for less. Actually, you just buy the weed and we're good.

Second, the internetz is a big place. We shouldn't always be bumping into each other like this. I'm starting to feel like you're the Wal-Mart of the internet, and I'm the little guy just trying to make a buck or two.

I will honestly say that if Ashley were putting together a professional website with 6 other writers, it would be Jezebel.com. I also think if Jezebel were a SAHM to 2 quirky boys, had a messy house and a few hot girl crushes, she would be Ashley.

The problem is that you are great, but a whole different thing from the Closet. Not necessarily better, just bigger and different and nicer looking (although we both have the whole retro girl thing going on) and richer. We are both attention whores, we are both funny, you're just doing it better.

So, I'll get to the point. As a gesture of goodwill, I think you should consider giving me your Best New Blog Bloggie.

But Ashley, you say, there's nothing to even give you. You don't even get the $20 check if you didn't go to the award show and we were too busy getting high and blogging and cashing paychecks to bother.

This is fine! I'm really not asking for anything, just for you to say "Ashley, as a gesture of goodwill, we would like to bestow upon you our Best New Blog Bloggie for the latter half of 2008."

So really we're sharing it. I would just tell people that I won a Bloggie for Best New Blog in 2008 and if anyone asks, I'll specify that I really only got it for the latter half of the year and as a gesture of goodwill, from a kind, funny, non-evil empire called Jezebel.

Probably no one will even ask. Besides you have that other Best Group Blog Bloggie, you don't need this one too.

Please consider this amicable agreement. Otherwise, we're going to have to think of some way to draw a dividing line down the interweb just so I have a fighting chance.

Also, if that pothead (or any of the others) ever calls in sick or misses a deadline or gives you attitude or anything, CALL ME.

I'll do it better for cheaper.

k?thxbai,
Ashley

Work It Out Wednesday

Dear Haully,

(That's how she spells it when she's doing her kre8tv Wal-Mart spelling.)

I see that you have responded to my proposal. With demands, no less. One would think I was negotiating for the hand of the freaking Queen of Sheba.

She has a rider. Can you believe that? The nerve. Half of you would probably beat each other half to death to be my sister wife.

Here is her list of demands:

The Mamalicious Rider would include:
Diet Dr. Pepper
Pork Rinds
Peanut Butter
Wireless Internetz
Michelob Ultra
Petron
Ambien
Lexapro
Xanex (for the occasional freak-out)
NO COUNTRY MUSIC, EVER. (say it like on Mommy Dearest)

I go to bed pretty early and I really like to watch A&E. If Mr. Ashley wants a fun friend, he should probably invite DL to be his brother-husband. Darren is *really* fun and funny. Our girls are pretty sweet, and very cute. A word of warning, though, they are demanding and are used to us catering to them. The big one minds better than the little one, so I'm sure we'd have to stay in a state of well-medicated-ness to be able to endure what LLM and LK can dish out.

Also, we have 2 cats (Phoebe and Oliver). Oliver's nickname is Osama Bin Oliver, because he is a total terrorist. We don't mind leaving them here, but our LBD must come. She is a chocolate lab. She causes no trouble, but her anal glands sometimes get infected and she smells like ass from time to time. It's really no biggie. We just take her to the vet and get her squeezed and clean.

Anyhow, let us know what ya'll want to do about gaining a sister wife and a brother husband. I should probably post the Daddylicious Rider, it's simple: Bud Light. That's all he needs. He eats a cracker ever now and again. Totally easy to please."

Alrighty then. Let's get down to the counteroffer.

--Diet Dr. Pepper, fine, but don't you dare take the last one. It is also my beverage of choice when I'm not on Coke. By the way, I am back on Coke and my waistline is reflecting that. So much for that Master Cleanse (aka the flu) I did earlier this year.

--Porkrinds, whatever. That's disgusting, but a small concession.

--Peanut butter and wireless internetz--always. Come on, it's the Ashley household. Of course we have peanut butter and wireless internetz.

--Michelob Ultra...is a small problem. We would have to have three brands of beer in the house at all times, 4 if we kept your husband (another point entirely). Also, what is up with you two drinking sissy beer? Is this an Oklahoma thing? Please consider Amstel, Heineken, or Heineken Light, for convenience sake. How are you on wine? If you drink wine, we're good.

--Petron, Ambien, Lexapro and Xanax, all fine, just hide them from Mr. Ashley. We don't want to share.

--I can take or leave country music, so since it is so important to you, I'll live without it. That is not a biggie. Oh wait, what about Johnny Cash? Hmm, we may have to further discuss this one and outline specifics.

--Going to bed early--this is fine, actually it should work out well. Mr. Ashley goes to bed very early and it seems wrong for a married couple to always go to bed at different times. So you and him can just go together and that solves that.

--A&E--Perfect! I love documentaries and true crime shows, so we're good there.

Now you seem to have missed the part of the proposal where I really only invited you and one daughter. Not a husband. Why would anyone want a brother-husband?? There's a reason more cultures aren't trying to get away with that one. Just for the fun of it, what is his average turn around time on picture hanging?

I was thinking maybe he could rent our condo, for like market rent + $500, and keep your youngest daughter there with him. And pay child support on the older one, who we would keep. He could come over on the weekends and keep Mr. Ashley entertained and they could watch the kids while we go downtown, get sloshed, and only have a $4 cab ride back to the condo, because it's close. Maybe we'd even all go on vacation together once a year. Also, he could come out on the boat with us, we need men to carry our stuff to the beach.

Your cats are definitely not coming, sorry. I'm really not thrilled about the dog either. I was thinking maybe it and our white German Shepherd, Lily, could move outside together. This would make the situation truly ideal for all of us.

I don't know what to say about the situation with the anal glands. Personally, I would've left that out of proposal negotiations, but let me tell you right here and now that I will not be having anything to do with your dog's anal glands, nor will I be hearing about it. Ever.

Here are my demands, aka the Ashley Rider:

--I prefer not to share the blanket. I sleep with a down comforter all year round and would rather not compete for blanket footage. You can either share with Mr. Ashley, or we'll just have three blankets.

--I sleep with the tv on. Usually around 4ish I wake up and turn it off, but this is non-negotiable.

--I do not wake up early. I do not hear crying children while asleep.

--I do not cook. I don't know how. Expect me to call you at work asking how long it takes to microwave a hotdog. I CANNOT operate the microwave without explicit instructions from someone else on how many seconds. Mr. Ashley will probably do most of the cooking. We're a big "breakfast for dinner" sort of family.

--or clean.

--Some days I just NEED a nap. You will realize that it is far better to let me go take one for an hour, than to try to keep me up and deal with the consequences.

--I don't handle mail, calls, or knocks at the door. Mr. Ashley will probably continue dealing with this.

--I take baths that are rarely shorter than one hour. They are necessary. They cannot be interrupted.

--Stay away from my hairdresser. Her and I share a sacred bond, and I won't have you and your chunky highlights fucking that up for me.

--Do not agree with Mr. Ashley, ever. Also, if I want to bitch about him, don't say things like "At least he changes diapers". If someone wants to bitch about me not cooking, no one is stumbling all over themselves to say "Well, at least she changes diapers." Yes, he is basically a good guy and I'm lucky to have him. He still pisses me off all of the time and I expect your unconditional support in any and all matters that pertain to him and anything annoying he might do.

I think that's it. I really think you would love it here and both of our blogs would benefit, not to mention our social lives. You would work and clean, Mr. Ashley would deal with the outside world and cook, and I would dazzle us all daily with my wit, intelligence and charm.

So what do you say?

Get to Work

I'm not MIA. I'm working.

I know. It totally sucks. For all of us.

As much as I like to bitch about not having any work, actually having to do some stresses me out, especially this "Senior rush". I don't like deadlines and graduation is a big one.

So I'll be back later. One of your two things should be figuring out a way for Ashley to make some sort of salary (not even anything monumental, but something that could be defined as income) from blogging.

Life would be way more fun for all of us if it was MY JOB to post 8-10 entries a day for your entertainment purposes.

So get on that and I'll be back this evening.