Wednesday, January 26, 2011

To my bitches.... and my hoes

My blog title is the toast I had wanted to use this weekend while toasting something, but alas, it went unused. It even involves looking at two people (whoever was to be present during said toast) while I say the words "bitches" and "hoes" for an effect. I'm not sure what effect the toast would have received, but in hindsight it's just good to know that I had a toast prepared if necessary. And it was more appropriate than my usual "To Nazis" toast.


By way of explanation, the toast "To Nazis" has never, and will never, be actually related to the fascist regime it shares it's nomenclature with. It's a long story, with an end result that I used that toast and the expressions on faces were priceless. Some people even put their glasses down like I'd said "To eating babies" or "To belly button lint in your sandwich". But I know at least 2 people that will happily raise their glass and toast "To Nazis", so the horror on everyone else's face is the price we will have to pay.


Wow, that was rambling and nonsensical, and ate up the better portion of my blog-writing time in the break room. So here's what's been happening since the last episode:

Elora, the pixie-sprite I gave birth to, turned 4 on 1/19. We decided to take her to The Reef, and indoor waterpark between Billings and Laurel. We had taken her once before, right before Colter was born, and she really had a good time. My friend Morgan helped organize the whole party, and we had some some friends and cousins make it to the little shindig we had there.

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Birthday girl after her big day

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Daddy and Colter B, eating some 'za

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Morgan showing Elora her Tinkerbell cake

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Elora's birthday cake. Pretty cool, thanks to Sabra for doing it

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The cutest of her cute new birthday outfits (at least the ones her parents bought her)


Tangent: I have 4 different kinds of Indian seasoning that I got for my birthday/Christmas present. Among them is one called Balti, which I adore pronouncing with my best Bollywood accent. I will freely admit that I love the inflection of Indian accents, as well as the movies with all the dancing. We do a Bollywood style dance in Zumba, and it is pretty much the happiest part of each workout for me.

I got the above gift when I finally made my first strike-out-on-my-own attempt since heaving a second little Swan from my womb in 2009. It was an overnight, and I'm probably a masochist because instead of going somewhere where I could just sit and be still and silent and childless, I opted to go see my friend Adrienne and hang out with her and her twins for 24 hours. We used her birthday/Christmas present to create a feast. A feast the likes of which Colstrip has likely never seen. A feast that included it's own homemade flatbread and a large cache of fresh cilantro.

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She's on the phone with her husband.

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We decided to do shit up right and put every spare bracelet she had in the place on me.



We invited over a couple chicks and played Just Dance 2 for a few hours. It was a delightful time, filled with wine, Indian food, a lot of laughter, and some old-fashioned booty shaking.

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We progressively got a little sillier as the night went on
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This is by far my favorite picture of the evening.

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I coax smiles out of babies like a pro. Avery agrees.

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Reese agrees with her sister.

And now for a few pictures of my own babies, from just this morning. They are just adorable little placenta treasures.

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Serious bed head

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Early mornings are filled with blank stares

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Piggy!

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Pudding face.

I meet with my plastic surgeon later this week to consult on my breast reduction. The doctor at my clinic at work used the term "slam dunk" when I asked him about preauthorization, so I'm fairly confident that the pictures that will be sent to people at my work for them to preauthorize my reduction will be well worth the potential awkwardness of knowing people at work have seen my boobs. My old boobs.

Next month Thad catches up to me and joins his 30s, and we are taking a weekend off to go to Chico Hot Springs with some friends. Rent a cabin, sans children, and spend a couple days soaking and drinking in a pool. Couple that with a dinner out on the town and being with good friends and I think we'll be having a solid gold weekend.

Now, it's off to bed with me. This was a loooooong blog to write, and was constructed over the course of two days. It's rambling, incoherent, and smells like it's hungover. I wouldn't believe a work coming out of my fingers if you've gotten this far. Good night@


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

I voted this blog "lame". It's the in thing to do.
Your kids are adorable. The bracelets were wonderful. Your drinking abilities should be legendary. And indian food should always, always be served with tzatiki.