Collins Elizabeth

We decided about 9 months ago that we wanted to try to have another baby. It's kind of awkward saying that, because every time someone tells me that, I immediately picture them vigorously having lots of sex. That's what makes a baby, right? So yeah, we started doing that.

I started to feel pregnant and knew it was solid when I started crying in March because "It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas" came on.  I started crying because I missed Christmas. I knew at that moment, there was some major zygote creation going on up in there.

I had decided I was going to be the pregnant person everyone loved. I wouldn't complain, I wouldn't ask for special treatment, I wouldn't sleep more or give up any of my responsibilities, and I wouldn't make every single conversation I had revolve around the fact that I was growing a weird-looking living thing in my uterus.

That of course, did not happen. I got a parking pass so I wouldn't have to walk far, I took a nap every opportunity given, and I didn't take out the trash for 9 months. Also, someone would try to talk to me about work or sports or the gym and I'd just be like,  "WHAT'D YOU SAY, I'M PREGNANT, LETS TALK ABOUT THAT."

I had some complications that required me to get ultrasounds every 2 weeks. Mat was working out of town, and most of the time I would attend the ultrasounds alone, watching the screen with my breath held. I was only about 14-15 weeks along when I put the hard sell on the ultrasound tech to get that wand deep inside the baby's nono so I could finally see the penis I had been longing for. She said it was too early and too swollen and she couldn't say.



"Okay, well just aim it up there and let me look. I'll know a penis when I see one."

She turned the wand into my liver and pushed it back up so I could see up between the baby's legs.

"Was your name Mandy? Mandy. Is that a labia? That does not look like a penis and I need a penis."

She said it looked like a girl to her, too, but it was so early there could definitely still be something sticking out. She said she shouldn't even take a picture of it because it was so inconclusive. I pushed and pushed her.



"Okay, I know you don't want to say...but you kinda already did say you thought it was a girl. So what percentage chance would you put on that? I mean are we talking 60%? 90%?"

She finally put down her wand and offered up 72%. That's the number she would give me if I refused to leave without a percentage.

So. It looked like we were having a GIRL instead of a boy.

The imaginations I had of a little mini Adrian, worshiping me and following me around asking to my life easier vanished. They were replaced with visions of a little mini Ellis, following her dad around and looking at me like I had an alien growing out of my face.

We decided to name her Collins. It was from a movie we had seen a few years ago and we both loved the name. My first choice had been Scout, and Mat's first choice was Arya.

When the 9th of December finally came, I had made a vow with myself the night before. I tend to be extremely emotional and dramatic when confronted with any sort of pain. I decided that I was going to be the toughest and most bad ass baby haver anyone had ever seen. If I was scared, no one would know. I was going to have on a full face of makeup, my hair curled, and pose for a picture 42 seconds after the birth- looking like I had just gotten back from a vacation to the virgin islands.

Clearly that didn't happen. I had a cesarean section and had a freak out. I don't even like my doctor, and at one point she held my hand and told me it would be okay and then tried to go back to doctoring and I wouldn't let go of her hand. They were all cheerleading me, "YOU CAN DO THIS MARY! THIS IS YOUR THIRD BABY! THIS IS NOTHING FOR YOU! YOU'RE DOING GREAT!"

How am I doing great? I am vomiting out of my nose while laying flat on my back and my perfectly applied mascara is running down my face and dripping onto my terrible hospital gown. (Why didn't I bring a cute robe like I was supposed to?! THINK OF THE FACEBOOK PICTURES, MARY)

They said my blood pressure was too high and they needed to get Collins out. I just kept whimpering, producing snot, and saying "I just want my husband." They finally let him in to see if he could calm me down, and the first thing he did is make the cheerleading stop. He was gently talking to me about how wonderful our vacations were.

BUT THEY'RE CUTTING ME OPEN. 

shhhh it's okay. Think of the beach. 

I'M GONNA THROW UP

it's okay, baby. Imagine you're throwing up in Caneel Bay. They are almost done, just look at me. 

DO I STILL HAVE MASCARA ON? 

You're ridiculous. Think of the water. And think about those pancakes. 



I have no idea how long it took. Eventually, they said they could see hair, and then we heard her cry. Getting to be awake for that moment, even though I was covered in throw up and tears and I wasn't wearing a cute kimono, is one of the best moments of my life. Then they plopped her right down on my chest and I hugged her, trying to get her to stop crying. Every time she would stop, I could see a hand come over my head and pinch her and tickle her and make her cry again. I know they were just doing their job, but I swear I actually had the instinct to bite the shit out of that phantom hand.

We've been home now for 3 weeks! People ask how she's doing and I don't really know what to say. She's pretty much a needy asshole most of the time, but I love her so much. I only get frustrated  12% of the time, and the fact that she is sleeping well and likes to listen to my singing is really working in her favor. I don't understand how I have enough love for 3 kids, I thought I would be depleted by now. Adrian wants to hold her and feed her all the time, he cries when I take her away. Ellis is pretty nonchalant about her but it bothers her so much when Collins is crying. And she hasn't been jealous of Mat's attention to Collins like we thought she would.

We have a lot coming up in the next few weeks, we put an offer on a house that was accepted! I go back to work the first week of March. I have 40 lbs to lose. Sad face.

I promise my next post will be extremely inappropriate, to make up for the fact that I just did a baby post. I love you all!

Ellisisms

This is Ellis:

I don't write about her nearly as much as Adrian because she doesn't like me. And most of my posts are just self-glorifying acccounts of how awesome and loved I am.


Adrian and I are both emotional beings with complicated emotions and an overall desire to better the world and make everyone happy.

Ellis just wants you to keep your hands off her fucking stuffed animals and to not have to deal with anyone being emotional. You try to reason with her 4 year old emotions and appeal to her sympathy: "Ellis, when you kick my Toms wedges off and it hits me on the nose and makes it bleed, it makes Mommy very sad. Do you understand?"  She just looks you straight in the eye and says, "K. Where's my Daddy?" She knows
Daddy would man up and accept the broken cartilage on his nose without causing a big scene.

Her usual response to getting in trouble

Last Christmas, we decided to donate a bunch of toys. Adrian was filling up huge black plastic garbage bags full of toys and murmuring to himself.."wow I am going to make those kids so happy...they are just going to be so blessed...". We actually had to ask him nicely (you always have to ask nicely with Adrian) to not donate any of the new toys he had just gotten from Santa.

Ellis had a broken Happy Meal donkey in her bag and announced that she was done. She looked like she would be the most giving child in the world. She had just gotten out of the bathtub and her hair was slicked back wet, running around our playroom in her little princess nightgown. But she wasn't a princess for the people.

"Ellis, can we please give this bunny that a stranger gave you at a garage sale in the bag? It's so another little girl can have a nice Christmas". She looks up from kicking her brother and says "Um, no. That's my best friend."

"This dirty bunny right here? This is your best friend..." Mat

"Ya"

She finds a broken remote control car and puts it in her bag. "Thas too bwoken to be mine anymore"

So kind.

Ellis with her Nana

A few months ago, I was working from home on the same day that husband with one T had off. He had just gotten her dressed and they were getting ready to leave for school. She came to give me a hug and looked at my sweatpants and mascara-smeared face, then looked back at her Daddy, figuring out the situation-at hand. The horror spread over her face.

She grabbed my cheeks.

"Mommy, wisten. DON'T stay here all day with my Daddy, okay? You need to go to work."

I was confused and watched her walk to Mat and hug him for a long time. When he picked her up and his back was to me and her face was on his shoulder, she gave me a head nod towards the door with her eyebrows raised.  Like "Go on now and get outta here".

True Love

She's incredibly beautiful. I find myself just staring at her sometimes, wondering how I possibly made something so pretty. She has huge, almond shaped brown eyes with long eyelashes, a nose that couldn't possibly be more perfect, dimples, and long beautiful thick blond hair. I always had hair like this.

I'm the hottie on the left

So, needless to say, I envy her hair. I find myself brushing it or pulling it into a ponytail and taking longer than necessary just because I like to touch it and pretend it is attached to my own head. Moderately creepy. It does get curly around her face when it gets wet, so I always have to blow it dry and straighten it with a straightener for special occasions. She stands very calmly and watches me do it, poiting out pieces I am missing. After she is done she has the same response EVERY time.

"My hair is so pretty. How come you're not as pretty as me?"

"Because. I'm older than shit and my hair looks like Courtney Love's. Thanks, Daughter."




One day when I was putting in extensions for a wedding I was singing in, she sat on the counter and watched me. I let her use my lip gloss and she picked up an extension.




E: This isn't your hair.

M: I know it's not, but I like to pretend it is so I feel pretty.

E: How come you don't have pretty hair like me?

M: I do, it just came in a package from Russia and smells like burnt plastic.

E: Ya, but that's not your hair. (looks at herself in the mirror and eyes me in her peripheral vision) MY hair is mine. And it's so pretty.

A rare picture of us being nice

So then I asked her how much money she makes and if she slept alone last night. Scoreboard.




A few weeks ago, Adrian was trying to talk to her about her brother-sister etiquette at school. She always calls him Bubba, but at school and on the bus she calls him Adrian. He has gone out of his way to NGAF what the other third-graders think and make sure his pre-k little sister always has his hand in the bus line, and she sits directly on his lap on the bus every single day. So it would seem like she would think it was sweet that he wanted her to call her his loving from-birth nickname at school.

"Ellis, please call me Bubba at school. I don't like it when you call me Adrian. Is it because you think Bubba isn't a cool name? I don't care, I just want you to call me Bubba, okay?"

"Ugh I know your name" She looks out the window at something important, like a sidewalk.

"I know you do, but can you please call me Bubba?"

She makes a long annoyed grunt sound that she even has to have this conversation and Adrian starts sniffling at her cruelty. This snaps her attention from the sidewalk back to him and says.

"Are you crying ADRIAN? Walk it off"

Needless to say, when she does have her moments of sweetness they mean so much more. Every now and then I will get an unsolicited "I love you" or she won't hide from me at school in demand that her Dad pick her up instead. I cherish those moments.

By the way!!!!! This is Collins, Ellis's little sister. I know she's got creepy stuff growing out of her head in this pic, but you get the gist. Doesn't she look like sweet, and like she'll love me?



Collins. She's gonna love me.



“If you care about what others think of you, then you will always be their slave.”

Mat is occasionally out of town for work, and stays at the same hotel. They know him by name, they know what room he likes, and they know he'll probably be a jerk if they forget to leave him a bag of cheez its in his room since he is a "preferred guest".

The kids and I will occasionally make the 1.5 hour drive to stay the night with him in his hotel. We always get adjoining rooms because kids can be obnoxious and kill the sexy time mood.

One day, I got there earlier than I intended and Mat wasn't off work yet. He had called to make sure they knew it was okay to give me a key to the rooms so we could go unload our stuff and wait for him to join us. When I checked in, Kathy immediately recognized me as Mat's wife and gave my kids cookies and told us how cute we all were. I liked Kathy.

She pulled up our room on her computer..

Kathy: Oh, hmmmm...looks like he has two rooms. Do you know which one he is staying in and which one he wants you to stay in?

Mary: You can just give me a key to both.

Kathy: Okay. Well....Okay. I guess that will work. I just don't know which one he is in.

Mary: (Feeling uncomfortable and having the urge to show her happy honeymoon pictures on my phone)

She handed me the keys.


As we check into the rooms and I opened the adjoining door, something was gnawing at me. I laid down on the bed and tried to figure out what it is.

All I could think about was Kathy. And what she thought.


When Mat did get there, he laughingly told me that on the way in the two people at the front desk immediately started apologizing for giving me keys to both rooms but they didn't know which one was his. He thought it was hilarious that they thought we stayed in different rooms like a couple of unhappy virgins.


I laughed it off, too.

"Oh yeah. Hahaha. They think we don't love each other, SO FUNNY. Because, you know, we obviously do. I mean. Look at us. SO HAPPY."





He gave me a weird look and shuffled our kids out the door to dinner. I put on some lipgloss and checked my happy smile in the mirror.




I'll be damned if I let someone think I'm in a loveless marriage.




Mary: Hey, Mat, let's take this way.

Mat: Why? Our car is over here by this exit.

Mary: Shhhh. Come here. Hurry. Let's walk close to the front desk.

(walk, walk, walk, loudly)

Mary: Hold my hand. HOLD MY HAND. Smile.

Mat: OKAY! Jesus.

Mary: BYE KATHY! BYE RONALD!


We ate dinner and had a great time but all I was thinking about was how I could further drive my point home to Kathy, the lady who OBVIOUSLY thought I wasn't good enough to be loved WHOLLY AND COMPLETELY by her favorite customer.




Mat: Do you want to stop and get frozen yogurt, baby?

Mary: Why does she think we don't sleep in the same bed? Does she think I just bring the kids to see you? WHAT IS GOING ON IN HER HEAD?

Mat: I know! Oh well.



There was no oh well about it to me.

I continued to make my point known.


1. I exaggeratedly stuck out my 12 week pregnant belly and rubbed it, looking forlorn, while I waited for Mat to get off work. When she asked if I needed a bottled water,  I said,  "Well, maybe IIIIII don't. But this baby of Mat's SURE is thirsty"

2. One time when we walked through the lobby, I made Ellis hold both of our hands...to show we were a united family.

3. I always make Mat walk through the front door when we are there together, so the front desk can see how stupidly happy and in love we are. (PUT YOUR HAND ON MY NECK)

4. This was getting exhausting.



Getting my prove on had continued for at least 3 weeks. It was getting harder to come up with creative ways to prove that we had sex on a semi-regular basis.

I mentioned it to Mat this past weekend, and he said passingly "Oh yeah, I told them, Mary. A long time ago. They asked which room I would like, and I said 'It doesn't matter, we just open the door between the two and the kids sleep in the other room'".

I wanted to kiss and hug him at the moment.

Especially if Kathy was watching.

Friday night foodporn party in the sticks!

This isn't inappropriate, but was way too fun for just a Facebook post. 

Mat had been talking about this restaurant in the middle of nowhere, called "Meers Restaurant", in Meers, Oklahoma. 

I looked up their website, because I take Friday night dinner very seriously and didn't want to waste a meal. I saw this picture and thought it was just a marketing thing. "We're just as good as some old dilapidated place like this!" Kind of thing. 

 I drove an hour and a half to get to Mat in Lawton, then we drove another 30-40 minutes into the Wichita Mountains. 

I asked Mat, "I don't understand. There isn't a town anywhere, how can there be a restaurant?" 

And literally, this place popped up out of nowhere. 

The picture on their website wasn't a marketing ploy, it was real. I got attacked by a nest of grashoppers to get this shot. It looks like someone built a shack in 1907, then said "shit, we need more tables", so they added on another couple of shacks on different falling apart levels, with whatever scraps they would find. And I think that's exactly what happened.

Buy longhorns for your kids! Only $200!

Here is what it looked on the inside: 

Ellis and I with our grubbing faces on. 

What was amazing about this place.....is the amount of cars and people! There is literally nothing in sight, then all of a sudden,  cars are lining the roads on both sides. You dodge feral cats as you try to find somewhere to park where you won't get attacked by a mountain lion. Dog kennels line the outside pavillion, where they ask you to leave your pets instead of leaving them in the car. 

Signs everywhere that say "CASH ONLY, AND NO SPLIT CHECKS"

Meers, Oklahoma literally doesn't have a population. The only standing structure within the town limits is this restaurant. Anywhere nearby just has a Lawton address. So they are pulling in people from hours and hours away to eat their delicious slaughtered longhorns! (BOOMER SOONER?)

As we're taking our seat, I can't help but notice the plethora of obese people. This just reiterates that the food we are about to eat is going to be damn good. 

A sign in the "waiting area" (a falling apart ramp with a chain to keep you waiting your turn)

Do you know why he is standing with that longhorn thing?

Because that is what is famous about this place! This is the only burger place in the US that gets its beef from its own herd. They roam around the land around the restaurant, with their giant ball sacks hanging out for all to see! It's incredible. 

I had eaten literally nothing but some edamame and a stick from the backyard, just to get ready for this love affair with FOOD!

Our drinks came first. They were served in mason jars. And not to be hipster....they actually meant it. I got an iced tea and Mat got an RC cola because that's what they serve. It's the only company that would give them service 100 years ago, so they're being loyal and stickin to em. It's admirable. No free refills. Who could drink more than one mason jar full of RC cola anyways?

I wish I had a fun story to tell you about us getting schnockered on Meers beer, but alas...I am knocked up and my husband is sympathetic. 

I  took a picture of this sign for my good friend, Jill Klopp, who loves Fried Pickles more than anything on this earth. She used to drive 45 minutes away to get them! And now, she lives in LA where fried pickles probably aren't even a twinkle in their daddy's eye. I have to bring her back someday!

Our first dish was Texas toothpicks. They were fried onion strips and fried jalapeno strips, drenched in cheese. Delicious and fresh. 

Dum Dum DUMMMMMMMMMMMMMM I got Beer Cheese soup! Anyone that worked with me at Applewoods, we would get so annoyed when people called our Cheese soup, 'Beer cheese soup" Now we know why! They invented this delicious masterpiece and they perfected it. CHEESE SOUP. How could you be so hot, simple, and delicious? 

I have a feeling at this point in my blog, my hot friends are counting calories. Just go with it, because it's about to get better. There are LONGHORN burgers. They only have 3 grams of fat per 4 ounces and they taste like Jesus's unicorns. Less than half  the calories of ground beef and even more delicious. Literally, they take this guy out of the field, chop off his balls, (I Hope....those things are so distracting), take out his eyeballs and stuff and then stick his ass in a grinder and give it to me on a fresh made bun. 

Here is husband with one T's burger: 

And my baby burger

It was, quite awesomely, the best burger I have ever had. They do nothing to the meat, they don't even salt it. They say that's the way their cowboys like it.  Mat got grossed out by the bathrooms, I tripped on some mangled wood, and our waitress was out way too frequently for smoke breaks, but it was one of my favorite Oklahoma experiences thus far. I would recommend anyone go. The cows, buffaloes, and feral cats are pretty much a zoo for the kids. Dad gets beer and a 1 pound burger. Mama can take cute pictures and buy a new Meers shirt to wear while she writes her blog! 

I was way too excited about this shirt.

My attractive dates! See the mangled mess of restaurant behind Mat? It's SO FUN. 

Just some longhorns wondering where their dad is....He's in my intenstine, sorry boutcha! 

 Long story made even longer: Go to Meers,  Oklahoma. You won't have any cell phone reception, you probably won't be treated like anything special...but you will experience some deliciousness and unintended charm all up in that mouth of yours.



Til Tomorrow!


Mary

When you're done crying, punch them!

I have stopped saying awkward prayers and singing beautiful songs for Adrian. Now he likes me to tell him stories of my childhood mischief. I am starting to run out of tales but tonight I remembered a particularly awesome one.

He's awkward because of the sex statue- I'm smiling because of the sex statue

Mary: Okay, this is a really good story, are you ready? It's about this girl named Alicia. She needed to THINK ABOUT THINGS and she was not very nice.

We had freshmen Health together; I was fourteen. She sat in front of me and would pass papers back our row. That's where our romance began. Now, I was pretty nice. Nice to everyone. I loved everyone. Except Alicia, that girl was mean.

I'm the violent Fourteen year old on the left

Adrian: You should love everyone.

Mary: Yeah, yeah I know. Anyways. I'm going to say a bad word because it's important for the story, okay?

Adrian: Ummm, I don't knooooow...?

Mary: It's okay, I know you'll never say them so you can hear them, I promise.

Mary: I was giggling with my friends one day, when out of nowhere, Alicia wanted to tango with the MFlo.

Adrian: Who's M Flo?

Mary: That's me.

Adrian: Ah okay, keep going.

Mary: Alicia had this pitbull look on her face and leaned over my desk and growled "I'm going to beat your ass."

Adrian: SHE SAID A BAD WORD?!?!?

Mary: Adrian, YES! She punched girls in the face for wearing lip gloss, of course she said bad words.

I didn't even know what to say. I didn't tell anyone because I was so embarrassed that this was happening. I decided that  the best thing to do was to just keep on being nice.

Adrian: Good job, Mom. (high five hand in the air)

Mary: WRONG. The next day I told her that I liked her K Mart hoodie and she laughed in my face and told me, "My cousin had to pull me off this girl in front of our house yesterday because I was beating her ass. My mom was beside me just cheering me on. Dumb girl."  Why did she tell me that, other than to just make me more scared than I already was? She was a foot shorter than me, I outweighed her by thirty pounds, and I had people that enjoyed my company. She clearly had the short end of the stick but I was TERRIFIED.

She hardly ever showed up for class but the thought of her being there scared me so much that I never wanted to go. I dreaded Health every single day for weeks.



Adrian: Wait, she was a BULLY. Why didn't you tell your parents or your teacher? They would keep her out of school so you could learn about healthy foods.

Mary: Number 1. Health is more about sex and drugs and not food. Number 2. In my day, son, we all got bullied and we didn't cry about it on stage on "The Voice". We cried ourselves to sleep tonight and read a lot of Sweet Valley High.

Adrian: Ohhhh okay. I am SO SORRY, Mama.

Mary: Oh, IT'S OKAY. Just wait until you hear the end of this story. Ain't nobody sorry for me.

Adrian: Oh my gah I'm so excited. Did she get nice?

Mary: .......

Adrian: ...............?

Mary: Okay, anyways.


So she has her head down on her desk one day as I sat down. I kept quiet and didn't laugh and didn't call any attention to myself. But the Teacher called me out about something and I can't turn off this ridiculousness. I popped off something funny and everyone laughed and Alicia turned around and looked at me.

She gave me a good long look that guaranteed she was going to punch me in the cheekbone within 48 hours.

I walked out of the class and past her and one of her friends. Her friend turned around to look at me and as I walked by Alicia pushed me into the pit. Her friend yelled "You're gonna get your ass beat TOMORROW".

Adrian: So you didn't go to school, right?

Mary: I finally had to swallow my pride and tell my parents. I told them because I didn't want to go school. I don't take hits well, as ya know. My Dad surprised me. He held my hand while I was crying and then told me to come to the living room.

He told me to show him my best fist.

"You can't hold your fist like that, Marigold, you'll break your fingers. Now, punch my hand"

I punched his hand.

"Harder, follow through.These are the places you need to hit. Use your elbow if you need to."

I punched his hand until I sweaty. I had stopped crying. Then he sat me down.

"No one is EVER going to beat you up. You are strong and you are smart. She is a coward, she's stupid, and she's WEAK. You're going to let her start the fight, because we don't go looking for a fight. When she starts it, YOU FINISH IT. YOU KNOCK HER DOWN SO HARD THAT SHE CAN'T GET BACK UP AND HIT YOU AGAIN. YOU WON'T EVEN FEEL THE PAIN BECAUSE YOU WILL BE SO ANGRY AND ONLY THINKING. ABOUT. FINISHING."

My dad had me so pumped up about myself that I WANTED Alicia to start a fight. I wanted it so bad that I couldn't WAIT to go to school the next day.

Adrian: Wow, that was really bad of Grandpa. You shouldn't have listened to him. The best thing to do is to ignore someone when they're being mean.

Mary: That works until they throw a punch. You have my full permission to bust some ninja moves on someone if they hit you first. I will always back you up if you defend yourself. 100%

Adrian: Okay, so did you beat her butt?

Mary: No, Adrian. I beat her ASS into the Westborough concrete.

(I kid, I kid!)

I walked into class. She was there. It was on. Let's do some snapping and you can be a Shark because I clearly am a Jet. She passed the homework back and whispered something about beating me up today. Then laughed mockingly at what she probably assumed was my fear. Then she looked at my face. Mary's fear is gone, Oh Shallow Ghetto School Skipper.

I looked like I was from Compton at that moment.

"Do it, Alicia. Let's do it today. You've been saying this for weeks and I clearly can't convince you otherwise. So punch me. And then I swear to God, I will BEAT your ASS."

....And she never talked to me again. She never showed up for class and I never heard anything from her friends.

 That's what my Dad knew. He knew if he only gave me the confidence to stand up to her that she would never actually hit me. I took away her power.




So the moral of the story is:  Be a good puncher but never actually do it. 



Adrian: Okay, let me punch your hand.

Mary: Good! Do it as hard as you can.



He punched me and it hurt. Really bad. I thought that was something you could do with your kids and it didn't hurt. I was wrong. That shit hurt real bad. So he's good to face all the bullies off the hard streets of Edmond, Oklahoma.




Thanks, Dad!

Three fighters, warming up for our next scuffle

The irrational waffletastrophe of 2013

It has been over a month since my last post and I haven't gotten a single complaint. 

I hate all of you for not giving in to my playing hard to get. Having said that, here's some words. 





I have been trying to turn myself into a skinny runner. That involves eating greek yogurt and making sure everyone sees me shaking up my protein shake at work. It also involves running, which sucks the fun out of my life while simultaneously making me feel like an Olympian. I have been training for a 5k for 8 weeks and trading off eating what I want and eating nothing I want. So I have basically lost 4 lbs and I need to add a couple more.


Husband with one T and I stayed in Lawton last night. I forgot Ambien, and haven't slept without Ambien for a single night in over a year. I laid in that hard hotel bed from 10-2 while changing positions and begging a mythical being to make my eyes sleepy. If there is a God, he said "No, I will only let you sleep for 7 minutes and will make that sleep contain dreams of adopting a baby water buffalo."

I worried about that baby water buffalo until 8 AM when I finally accepted defeat and rolled out of bed, thinking about continental breakfast.

I looked in the mirror and ran my fingers through my hair, noticing it looked perfect since I had laid awake all night, thinking about my nonexistent baby water buffalo that may be in danger if I don't fall asleep and save his little life.

Mat had told me about the continental breakfast and I knew there was a waffle making machine. I started adding up calories in my head and trying to calculate if I could justify a waffle. The huge black bags under my eyes answered the question. Eat the waffle, Mary, you're ugly and grumpy.

I think I brushed my teeth but I can't be entirely sure. I put on yesterday's clothes because I hadn't wanted to pack a bag, so I just...didn't. Mat had to go to work and looked perfect and bright-eyed, which made me grumpier.

We walk into the continental breakfast and Mat shows me the waffle machine, knowing how excited I was and hoping the waffle would medicate the grump. It was a rather complicated contraption, with different pictures of the steps involved in making the waffle.I was a little too excited and hungry for the calorie-fest so I skimmed over the pictures and just looked at the word push. I pushed on the lever, wondering what was going to come out. I kept pushing, and nothing happened. So I kept pushing, I just wanted to damn waffle and I wasn't feeling particularly problem solvey.

The lever snapped off in my hand and I realized that pancake batter was pumping and pouring all over the counter. It was dripping off  of the counter and onto my pants. The explosion was taking over the biscuit bin and the milk jug, dripping off the counter in front of the bagel toaster.  My hands were completely covered in gooey yellow liquid. It felt like I was staring at the counter for 20 minutes without actually doing anything. I only snapped back to life when a lady that looked like Meatloaf appeared beside me and said "Aw man I was wanting a waffle, too. Scoop some of that off the counter into this here cup for me."




I hated her so much. I hated every piece of her face and every sound she made. How dare her be concerned about her waffle? I was the one who hadn't slept, broke the waffle machine, and now didn't get to eat breakfast without feeling shame!


Because of the post-traumatic stress, I can't remember if I called out for help or if it was Mat or Meatloaf. The Hispanic continental breakfast employee ran out screaming and overreacting and trying to push the circular trash can against the rectangular counter. I know I am the one who made waffle batter explosion, but I felt superior in my smartness in knowing I had not jumped to such an an illogical action. It had been my plan all along to just let the machine empty itself completely and then kind of make a choice after that.



Meatloaf watched in utter broken heartedness as Maria carried away the batter-soaked napkins, utensils, food, and trash cans. Did I mention I hated her? I still hadn't said anything to anyone, and the incident had to have been happening for at least 2 minutes by this point. She ended up getting frustrated and leaving to go back to her hotel room full of ugly people that were waiting on their waffles that would never come.




I slowly crept away and got myself some Golden Grahams. As I was eating them, Mat unfortunately decided to speak.



Mat: Did you look at the  instructional pictures? I think you were supposed to push towards the machine instead of towards the counter.

Mary: Let's just pretend like it was the machine's fault because I'm really unable to muster an apology for Maria or Meatloaf right now.

Mat: Absolutely, Baby. That machine was so fucked up.

Mary: I hate Meatloaf. And Stripes.

Mat: Wait, who is Stripes?



Stripes was the lady with the stripes who wouldn't stop saying the word waffle.



"Ummmm, are they going to bring out more waffle batter? There doesn't seem to be anymore in there"
"Oh, good morning kids. We're waiting on waffles. MA'AM! Can you stop cleaning and get more waffle batter?"
"Oh! I'm sorry. Yes, I can wait on more waffles, it;s just that my kids are waiting to be fed. They, you know, want waffles"
"Can I help you clean up the waffle mess so you can concentrate on just going to get more waffle stuff?"
"Hi, are you waiting on waffles too?hahaha us too. I think she's bringing out more waffle stuff. "
"Apparently, I just heard someone broke the waffle machine. I wonder why they didn't clean it up? Now she's having to clean it up instead of getting more waffles!"




I walked over to Stripes and the woman she was talking to.

"IT WAS ME, OKAY? I BROKE THE MACHINE. I BROKE THE MACHINE AND I DIDN'T CLEAN IT UP AND NOW I'M TOO SCARED TO EVEN TRY AGAIN"



Stripes: How did you break it? What did you do to it?

I walked off and chugged my coffee. I was the outcast of the Lawton La Quinta Inn and it didn't feel great. Now I know how homosexuals and gothic people must have felt in high school.



We finished our non-delicious breakfast and were on our way out. I suddenly felt compelled to thank Maria, as I never felt any judgment from her and she had had to deal with Stripes and Meatloaf.


I caressed Maria's arm and whispered, "I'm sorry I broke the waffle machine. And I'm sorry I didn't clean it up. This is like the wor-"

Stripes walked over with her little stupid grandkid with the stupid glasses and interrupted my apologetic whispers. "It's OKAY. She explained to us how to properly operate the waffle machine so everything is OKAY now and we can get our waffles!"

I turned to Mat and said "tell her to say 'waffle' one. more. time..."



In closing, I now know it was the Jesus of Pants that Fit that allowed me to not have a waffle this morning. He was assisted by the Angel of You Have to Run Tomorrow so Stop Eating Pastries You Fat Ass.

Shame, vomit, and interest rates

"I need to stop drinking this vodka so I don't pee on my stairs tonight" never crossed my mind on this night in 2006 as I was sitting at my favorite local establishment, Cock of the Walk.  Where everyone knows your name and has had sex with all your friends.



Nowadays,  I'm usually at home getting pregnant on Friday nights,  and I don't understand how I thought Cock of the Walk plans weren't refusable. A simple, "I have to work until 8 o'clock tonight and again in the morning at 7:45 in the morning so I think I'll pass, but thank you for the invitation, Kendal!" seems like it would have been met with an understanding nod and wave. But at that time in my life I was on the prowl to get me a husband with one T and everyone knows the only way to find one is at a dingy bar that can't be bothered to install a bathroom stall door that closes. (also, when you are waiting in the line for the women's bathroom you get a champion's view of Oklahoma City urinal wiener every time the men's bathroom door is opened)



Three hours into the night,  I was having so much fun that not even my friend sleeping in a trash can was going to get me in a cab. I probably spent most of the night sitting at a table with strangers, begging them to love me. I really don't remember much from the night, and when I look at pictures all I recognize is shame and failure. And cavities, since my mouth is wide open in 90% of them.

I was so surprised when the lights came on and I still hadn't found my next ex-husband. That means it was 2am. That means I had about 5 hours until I had to be at work.

How did I get home that night? I don't know. But it was someone that decided not to make sure I got into my bed without puking on it first.

I crawled out of the throw up nest at 7, because I needed a shower and I was going to look presentable and open some motherfucking checking accounts. I did not feel well. I did not look well. I was only 23 so one would think I could take a licking and keep on ticking, right?

It was one of the worst days of my life. Honestly. The time was going by so slowly and I had to stay there until four. I laid my head down on my desk and tried to take slow sips of water. I couldn't eat. Thankfully, the lobby of a bank doesn't get too busy in the morning on Saturdays because most people got schnockered the night before and are enjoying sleeping in. At about 10:30 I had just wrapped up a little prayer session with Mr. Jesus and He wasn't complying. My phone rang to let me know there was a woman here to see me to open up 17 accounts and talk about every other bank option we have.

I shook her hand and introduced myself. She had on a decorative scarf and a wool skirt suit and her fake red hair hit her shoulders in a nice little Saturday morning flip. She needed to die.

Suzie: I'd like to talk about some options for my accounts. I was thinking about moving $10,000 from my savings into a ;fkas;dfoi0980nndsfd-090-;a)OQ.

Mary: Excuse me, what? Never mind, I'll be right back.

I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my wrists. Please. Get me through this

Mary: Okay, hi! I'm back! Sounds like you need a Titanic account and that will only take about 40 seconds to sign and then you can go! yay!

Suzie: Oh, well I'm not in a hurry, Dear. Let's talk more about the intricate details of the features and benefits of the Mon-

Mary: BLAAAAAAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I had just picked up my trash can from under the desk and was violently vomiting into it. It wasn't quick or subtle. There were long periods of dry heaving and crying, my forehead resting against the plastic edge of the trashcan. Suzie sat there quietly. She could have at least held my hair back. Or even better, WALKED AWAY AND WENT HOME. Every few seconds I could hear her clear her throat or say "oh dear" under her breath.

I sat back up, black tears overflowing from my bloodshot eyes, snot and spit gathered in the corner of my mouth.

Mary: I'm- I'm sorry- I'll just go clean myself up.

Suzie: Oh don't even worry about it, it's those Bradford Pear trees blooming, they've got everyone feeling under the weather.

I couldn't believe it. I wasn't rubbing my nose or giving a little sneezy. Lemon/lime/vodka/vomit stench was filling up my office and she was ready to keep talking about sassy personalized deposit slips. She jumped right back into business talk, while I sat there shocked and in disbelief. I couldn't even get this woman out of my office by nearly hurling on her.

I stopped her incessant rambling and carried my trash can to the bathroom, where I cleaned up as best as I could and cried on the floor for three minutes.  I kept thinking she would get mad about having to wait and would leave. I peeked outside the door and she was still there, making notes about all her different options. I was going to have to be brutal.

Mary: Ma'am. Hi, yeah, I'm back. Um. I feel really sick and can't continue helping you any more. In fact, I need you to leave. I really am sorry but there's just no way I can talk to you or listen to you talk anymore. You'll have to come back on Monday.

She seemed completely SHOCKED that I was too sick to continue, but not angry at all. She told me they needed to let me go home and give me a sick day every once in a while. Bless her heart. She has never seen a hungover and possibly still drunk person in her 60 something years of living.

I was able to get a hold of a co-worker to come in and take over for me. She even stopped and got me some coffee. (Thanks Lauren!)

Moral of the story is...well...whatever...look at the pictures. Don't drink and work.

Yay! Friends! Fun!

Calm down, 2006 Mary

Close your mouth. Go home!

1:54 AM. Clearly. 

My 2012 in inappropriate Facebook statuses

January

"Mom, stop crying and eat your pretzel" Adrian (while watching the preview for the movie that has the whales stuck under the ice)

"When I turn 18, I want a wife that knows how to dance. Oh wait, you won't care because you'll be dead by then" Adrian

"Mary, you make me so happy. I am like dog who can't stop wag his little tail" Customer in a fedora

"I wish Ellis love me just a little bit less, so she wouldn't cry when I went to the bathroom" Adrian

This morning, Ellis was being a terrorist and wanted to eat a bag of frozen broccoli. When she about to throw a fit, I agreed to let her eat one piece of it on the way to school to prove that she would hate it. She ate that entire piece of freezer burned broccoli and smiled at me the whole way to school like, "Whutchu know about that"

February


"Why is that man staring at you? Can't he tell he's too late by the two KIDS SITTING IN THE BACK OF THE CAR?!" Adrian (he yelled the last part) (he thinks everyone wants to marry me)

Mat: I don't know why you have an irrational fear of going to jail. You're never in the place or company of anyone committing any sort of crime. 
Mary: I know, but anything can happen. What if some 19 year old wants you to be her husband so she frames me for murder and I get locked up forever?
Mat: That's ridiculous. I could never land a 19 year old. 

I'm reading "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" and I don't understand the hype. It's awful. I would rather read an information phamplet on wasp sex or a roth IRA. 

I hurt my neck today and Mat has been waiting on me all day. For one moment, Adrian noticed him messing with the TV and said "um, shouldn't you be focused on your wife right now?"

God, I am getting so old. I keep slippers beside my bed and plan on eating two tums before I consume thin mints. Lame. 


March

I  just stirred my coffee cup with a paperclip because I didn't want to get up to get a spoon. 

"My credit is only bad because I got addicted to pain pills around this time last year" Customer

"Look at this guy, trying to be cool and play the drums on his steering wheel for you... SHE'S MARRIED AND DOESN'T WANT TO PAY ATTENTION TO YOU!" Adrian

Just waiting for Mat to fall asleep deeply enough that I can sneak on the AC without getting caught...

"I'm going to be really cautious and make sure I don't step in dog shit" Said neither of my children, ever. 



April

"Well, isn't she just a huge and ugly genius" Adrian referring to Ursula in the Little Mermaid

If there's a stage version of The Little Mermaid, I picture King Triton being exceptionally hot. 

A 'steamed and salted' potato isn't 20% as good as it sounds. It tastes like I'm chewing on a thought. 

'...and don't call me Shirley" jokes will always be funny. Always. 

Adrian has a soccer game at 7:45 AM tomorrow. Why did I have unprotected sex 8 years ago?


May

If I ever have a nanny, she'll be 70 with a hunchback and a mustache. 

This "age me" app is really funny! I wish there was a "young me" app. I would use it on every single picture and not tell anyone. 

Watch out LA! We're gonna be better than you and beat you some! #awkwardatsportsstatuses

I've taken an ambien, but Steve Blake really looks like a penis. 

Adrian is alone in the hot tub with two giant people sitting on top of each other. Has no idea why or how that could be awkward. 

June

"Ellis, don't poop your pants." "But I waaaaaaaaaaaaaant to"

Ugh, stop parenting so loud. 

I don't know why Emily gets so butt hurt over her Bachelors calling her a trophy wife. Isn't that what we all want?

Well, I hated "Brave". And Adrian's gunea pig died and I don't know how to spell guinea. It's been a rough day. 

Magic Mike? I'd rather have Magic Mexidips. 



July

I was just trying to coax Adrian through 2 tablespoons of Nasty Nyquil when I realized he probably doesn't know what it means that I was yelling "JUST TAKE IT LIKE A SHOT GO GO GO GO"

"You're so weird. I would never cry at work. Except when I am really hungover." My anonymous friend (It was Kendal)

After boycotting Chik Fil A, I can't help but be thankful that cookie cake has never spoken out against gay marriage. 

I always get flipped off and I never know what I did. I need a bumper sticker that says, "WHHYYYYYYYY?"

"If I ever won one thousand dollars, I would buy us a big house like the guy who owns Hobby Lobby and loves Jesus" Adrian

August

Dear Summer, you make everyone stinky and ugly. No one looks good with a bikini and a sweatstache. Take direction from your friend, Fall, who makes everyone smell like pumpkins and snickers ice cream and promotes cuteness in scarves and non-sweaty hairlines. Love, Mary with heat splotches on her neck. 

"Bye my best friend" Nice little girl at Ellis's school "YOU'RE NOT MY BEST FRIEND" Ellis

"I love you but the next time you buy calorie-free cranberry juice, we're going to have serious issues. I'll take 20 calories for a smidgen less taste of shit" My husband

"I make the ladies laugh. While they're laughing and distracted, I escape" Adrian

Went for a bike ride. Didn't get thrown in the back of a van. Fist pump. 

September

I use three different pens on Adrian's reading log so his teacher thinks I actually fill it out every day instead of the night before it's due. 

Ellis really sucks at the Dougie. 

HD ain't great for Britney. And Leopard Pants Girl, you never got bullied. I HATE SOB STORIES GET OFF THE STAAAAAAAAAAGE. 

For about 3 seconds, I forgot we were at work and accidentally rubbed Mat's pecs. 

Veterinary offices are harder upsellers than most of my co-workers. 

October

Ellis is composing a new song in the tub. It appears the working title is "You're not my best friend Today is Tuesday Don't sit by me"

Ohhh scarves. Thank you for not being selective and looking cute on everyone. 

Adrian has its and it's on his spelling test this week. 75% of my friends don't know the distinction. We're a family of elitist spellers. 

Is it controlling and creepy that I've already picked out and learned the songs I plan on singing at my kid's weddings?

Ellis has become obsessed with the word "maybe" but never uses it correctly and it sounds like she's making fun of me. "What'd you do at school today?"     "Maybe I colored. Maybe I played with my friends"

November

I spilled coffee in my front seat and Ellis threw up in my backseat. So basically, my car smells like every Sunday morning in 2006.

Sometimes, I click on ads just because they're bad and I feel sorry for the employee that made them. It's a sympathy click so they at least get one and can keep their jobs. Changing the world with my saintlikeness.

I love you all! Except those of you that I just deleted because you're less pleasant than a wasp with herpes. Where are the speeches?I'm ready to make sweet political love to myself.

My mother took me to the doctor today and ask I was checking out I notice a girl from HS, who was looking like a supermodel, walk in to the lobby. I had a 2 day old ponytail and a swollen face with black circles under my eyes and a giant t shirt on so I texted my mother "Do NOT talk to ____ when you see her!" I had just hit send when I heard my mom's voice from the lobby, "Do you remember me, I'm Mary's mom! She'll be out in a minute, you two should say hi!" Friendly Mom fail.

If something ever happens to me, don't let the police go through my text messages. My legacy will never be the same.


December


Adrian: Mama has a song, Ellis has a song, I don't have a song...Mat: That's okay buddy I don't have a song either.   Adrian: what? yes you do, Daddy, it's Big Pimpin. 


Difference between my kids: Adrian donated two full bags of toys to charity. We asked Ellis to donate a dollar tree dirty Easter bunny given to her by a stranger and she said "Um. 
No. That's my best friend"
Receptionist on the phone just now:
"Yes, please have him call Mary when he has a chance"
"Ummm, are you going to spell that for me because there are like 100 different ways to spell that"
"I didn't even know that! Sorry about that, sure, it's M-A-R-Y!"
"Oh, so not like Christmas"
"Nope, that would be the ONE other way to spell it."
#idontcareifyoucantspelljustbuystufffromme


Adrian has lost 3 coats now. How do I punish him? Clearly my parenting method of communication and reasoning actually sucks and maybe I need to start rubbing his face in the gravel?


Toys R Us is gross.