Mom to Bee

Can I tell you how I feel about micro-managing, egotistical, know-it-all power-tripping bitchfaces?

I pretty much hope that they all get herpes covered in genital warts on their face from Santa.

Needless to say, there is more coming soon on this story. Stay tuned…

Song title: Merry F**kin’ Christmas (Live) by Denis Leary

Bee: “Mommy! My baby (doll) said something!”

Yeah, what’d she say?

Bee: “Get to a better state. State Farm!”

Song title: TV Baby by Bif Naked

Organizing my closet by color makes me happier than it probably should.

Song title: The Color Of Love by Boyz II Men

I’m starting to get all nostalgic for all my c-section/surgeries I’ve had in the last year or so because I miss people covering me up with toasty blankets from the blanket warmer doohickey.

I think that’s reason enough to get something cut open, right? Well, that and the drugs.

Song title: Keeps My Body Warm by Abra Moore

Dude, what’s up with my MIA status?!

Where have I been?

Well, here’s a brief rundown of recent and not-so-recent events:

(1) Had surgery to fix my dis-gusting belly button.
(2) Broke my big toe. Walking. I shit you not.
(3) Caught a monster cold from Bee (thanks, preschool. I owe you one. “One” being a big stab to the neck.), which turned in to a monster migraine-inducing sinus infection.
(4) Got LASIK for my Stevie Wonder-esque vision. I now have zombie eyes.
(5) Will be getting the new iPhone on Friday. My life will soon be complete. Please expect many photo-heavy and completely random posts starting this coming weekend.

Also, if you wanted to win any of the prizes I offered in my latest giveaway, check out The Facebook Page for the winners! And I swear I haven’t forgotten about you, Grand Prize Winner, I just suck giant monkey balls. And have also been dying (see #2 & #3).

Song title: Where Have You Been by Reel Big Fish

I’m seriously regretting eating so many raw veggies while watching the Bachelor Pad finale last night. I’m pretty sure my stomach views them as foreign bodies like shrapnel or a new kidney or something. Anybody have any anti-rejection drugs I can borrow?

Song title: Eat A Vegetable by Gary Lapow

As a shameless self-promotion by an admitted attention whore (hello, I’m a blogger, right?), I’m celebrating my 100th Facebook Fan with…wait for it…A GIVEAWAY!!

What do you get?

Grand Prize:
A $25 Gift Card to Le Target!

Runner Up Prize:
2 8-packs of Naughty Betty greeting cards

Honorary Mentions:
When you just have to tell people how awesome you are…

You know those times when you totally deserve a Thank You and you never get it? Well, here’s a little something you can pass off to those assholes…

So how do you go about scoring these Full of the Awesome Items (trademark!)?

Uh, you have to be my blog whore, obviously. It’s this simple:

You get 1 point for being a Facebook Fan of Mom to Bee.

For additional points, all you have to do is whore me out on your Facebook page! Make sure you like to the Mom to Bee page so I can count your whoring. This is unlimited whoring, people. 1 point per link. The most links wins.

If you don’t know how to tag in your Facebook status update, check out this help page!

Contest ends…eh, how about Tuesday, 8pm PST?

Well, what are you waiting for! Whore away, my beloved minions!!

P.S. I super love each and every one of you and don’t you forget it or I will kidnap you, tattoo it on your forehead and leave you in a bathtub full of ice, possibly missing a few organs. I mean, shit, how else am I gonna afford all these totally lame bad ass prizes?

Drink The Kool-Aid by Ice Cube

Remember that Snow White-esque, naive girl who wandered through a flowering meadow towards a hernia repair, whistling some bullshit about “one day my belly button will come,” all the while the surgeon/huntsman lurked quietly behind her, waiting to strike.

Okay, bad analogy, but give me a break. I’m on pain meds, yo.

And remember that photo that I was SOOOO embarrassed to reveal? That shit IS supermodel material when compared to my current state.

***WARNING: THE FOLLOWING PHOTO IS NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART OR FOR PEOPLE WITH FUNCTIONING EYEBALLS TO LOOK UPON***

Hernia After

The day of the surgery was pretty non-eventful. Got all prettied up in my nerd glasses and basically just took a nice nap that happened to include doctors shoving instruments in to my abdomen and moving shit around.

When I got home, the local anesthesia was still in full force so I thought I had won the hernia jackpot.

It’s like the lottery, but uglier.

Little did I know that hernia surgery makes you feel like you just had a mini-c-section. It’s hard to get yourself up from the laying position and sweet Jesus help me if I have to sneeze.

The other fantastic aspect of the surgery is my super power: a ridiculously high tolerance for pain medications. I discovered said super power years ago when, despite 50 hundred shots of novacaine in my face, my dentist simply could not get me numb enough to fill a cavity. Then the same happened when I had a root canal.

The dentist eventually had to give me IV sedation for the root canal. After THREE Valium had no effect on me. AND THEN, I woke up part way through the procedure to vomit on the dentist.

Multiple times.

So when I was chewing down a few Vicodin, I wasn’t too surprised that they had no effect. Or is it affect. Whatever.

Luckily, the doctor gave me some Oxy and, while that helps with the pain, it also fucks me up! Like lay around with my head swirling in the clouds all day.

Sadly, it also inhibits my plan of blogging non-stop this weekend. Hopefully these posts are somewhat coherent and I haven’t made you delete me from your readers with the After Photo.

The End.

Man, I’m witty. Jealous?

Song title: My Hernia by Bill Cosby

My dearest Bug,

My sweet, squishy, playful, exceeds any adjectives, Bug. I simply refuse to believe that you have been in our lives for more a year already.

Where has the time gone?

From the very moment we knew, after months and months and MONTHS of trying, that we were finally pregnant with you, I knew our lives, our family, would never be the same.

Like most parents, I wondered how I could find the space in my heart for another baby. Your sister was all we knew, how would this new baby fit in to our lives?

What we didn’t expect was how our hearts exploded with love for you from day one. Could this boy with the delicious dimples and mischievous twinkle in his eye be all mine? Not a day goes by that I don’t want to eat you up, “from your toes all the way up to your nose”. Seriously, it should be illegal for kids to be as adorable as you are.

From a mushy little bundle to a walking and really-attempting-talking toddler, this year has been full of milestones! You already have six teeth and it seems like you are constantly working on more. Your favorite foods would have to be cereal bars and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (both of which I’m sure I will still be feeding you by the time you are old enough to read this letter. Martha Stewart, I am not, honey.).

I tried to think of your favorite toy but hands down I think your sister wins over any truck we own. You and your sister would play 24/7 together if you could. God help us if you sleep in past an acceptable time for Bee because she will get so impatient waiting to see her little brother in the morning!

I just consulted with your sister and she insists that she “is NOT a toy!”

Your daddy and I are so lucky to have such a wonderful little man in our lives and I look forward to seeing how you’ll grow, learn and expand my love for you every single day.

I love you to the moon and back, Budders!
Mama

Song title: I Love My Baby by Nina Simone

I’m not very shy or modest when it comes to discussing my body.

Shocking, I know. I’ll give you a minute to really let that breaking news sink in…

Wanna hear about my explosive diarrhea, butt cameras or how long it took to sew up my vagina after Bee’s birth? No problem.

Even more shocking is that there actually is something that embarrasses the fuck out of me. That thing is…my jacked up belly button.

You see, before my womb became a porcelain chalice of crotch parasites, I looked a little something like this:

Okay, so that photo wasn’t exactly taken right before I became a baby machine. ::cough::so what if I’m only 18 years old in the picture::cough::

But do you see that tummy? That tiny, cute little belly button?

Well, after Bee, that belly button looked less like, uh, normal and more generally fucked up. Because Bee was my first baby, I just figured that us moms were doomed to having really ugly belly buttons after kids. I never really questioned it.

But after Bug was sliced and diced out of my stomach, I started harassing Mr. Bee more and more about my insecurity and wanting to have it fixed. And a tummy tuck. And a boob job.

You know, the regular.

Somehow through my Google medication education, I stumbled upon a lovely little term: umbilical hernia. Apparently, your belly button area is very susceptible to hernias because (1) it’s weaker there to begin with due to your own umbilical cord when you were all fetusy and (2) building in a kid in your abdomen kind of puts a little strain on, well, everything.

So my “huh, my belly button is really ugly” quickly was diagnosed by every doctor I’ve seen (except my OB/GYN who has seen said fucked-up-ness about 5 billion times and never mentioned anything) as an “oh yeah, you have a hernia!” within 1.2 seconds of seeing my stomach.

***WARNING: This photo even makes me throw up. If you comment anything but “I want to be like you when I grow up,” I will either become super stabby or dig a hole in my backyard and cry until I create a tear-filled water feature.***

Seriously, I can’t believe I just posted that on a public webpage. If anyone again ever insinuates that I am anything but upfront and honest of my blog, I will have to stab them in the eye with a dull spoon. You’ve been warned.

Anywho and whatnot, once a doctor said “would you like to have this fixed?” and I stopped dry humping their leg, I said “HELLS TO THE YES!” and now I have a doctor’s appointment scheduled for…today.

That’s right y’all. As you sit on your comfy couch, snacking on a tasty morning croissant and coffee, I am starving to death fasting for my surgery and probably doing some last minute calculations on how many Xanax I can chew before the surgery without killing myself.

Hopefully I’ll be able to slip the doctor a $20 and get a little snip and tuck while he’s down there.

I mean, it’s totally reasonable to expect this kind of After Photo, right?

Song title: Belly Button Blues by Wee Hairy Beasties