Repeat, Repeat the Words That I Know We Both Said

"Woman!"

"What?"

"Do you know what your son just did?"

"Uh... no?"

"As I was walking Griffin up to bed he was going 'fah... fah... fah... fah...'"

"Uh-huh?"

"'Fah... fah... fah... FUCK.' And I said, 'Griffin! We don't say that word. Why did you say that?' and he said, 'We were learning sounds today and teacher said to find words that begin with fah. So I did. FUCK.' So then I told him we don't use that word and came up with other words like farm and fun but I'm certain his teacher didn't tell him to learn words that began with 'fah' but words that began in 'fff.'"

"Well, I know he didn't learn that word from me."

"Didn't learn that word from you My Ass."

"You just said ASS. He totally learned that word from you."

"If he had said shit, I'd agree. But he most certainly learned 'fuck' from you!"

Fuck.

You Think You're Tired Now, But Wait Until Three...

I went to bed yesterday at four o'clock in the afternoon. It was very nice.

Past that... AARON FINALLY CAME HOME. And we had my parents over for dinner to celebrate my dad's birthday.

(That would be a gluten-free devil's food cake with dark chocolate buttercream.)

And we did lots of family shit over the weekend. And the environmental allergens flared up to royally kick my ass.

Yeah, Aaron's been home for four days now and I really can't think of anything I've accomplished that I want to accomplish but I can say my sanity has been restored.

Well, as much sanity that I have, that is.

Ali tagged me for a meme, and let me say: I'm really awful at completing memes that I've been tagged for. In fact, if you ever wanna tag someone for a meme because you can't think of enough people, feel free to tag me. I'm a total slacker. Go ahead, feel better about yourself, I'll be the asshole that didn't complete the meme.

Now, that said, I really do like doing memes. And I don't know why I don't do them more often. OH WAIT, YES I DO: I'm a total slacker. Duh!

Okay, now on to the meme...

1. Do you promote your blog?

Notsomuch anymore. I use to leave tons of comments everywhere and now I'm lucky if I can leave one or two a week on my very good friends' sites.

2. How often do you check hits?

Way too fucking much. At least three times a day. I also check where people are from and what sent them to me. Shameless self indulgent whore.

3. Do you stick to one topic?

Fuck no. Well, yes, kinda. It is all about me.

4. Who knows that you have a blog?

Pretty much everyone knows I have one. But very few people actually have the address. And those who do have the address don't read it anyway.

5. How many blogs do you read?

Over 300. I think it's more addictive than crack.

6. Are you a fast reader?

Yes, luckily. A fast commenter, no.

7. Do you customize your blog or do anything technical?

Not much. But I finally learned how to upload new banners and change my colors around. That counts, right?

8. Do you blog anonymously?

Nope. My name is actually Laura Capello. My husband's name is Aaron. My kids are Griffin and Darwin. I have enough shit in my life, I can't remember pseudonyms too.

Although, I will say that I do not use Aaron's and the boys' last name (and what should be the last half of my hyphenated last name, except I'm a lazy ass and have never gone down to Social Security to change my name after nearly seven years of marriage).

9. To what extent do you censor yourself?

Believe it or not, I actually do censor myself. I do not talk shit about people. Like, crazy family shit and whether or not people in the family like me or not, and who's popping what pills and what so-and-so just did. Or if a certain friend is acting like a major ass. I respect people, goddess damn it.

10. The best thing about blogging?

Being able to purge all the shit floating around in my brain so I can focus on more important things. Like what cake I'm making next.

So, just like I'm really awful at doing meme's, I'm also really awful at tagging people. So if you do this, email me or leave me a comment so I can read your answers too.

Why You Make-A-Me Work So Hard

Griffin is upstairs, in his room, screaming his head off. Thrashing is involved.

Because I won't let him scream his head off in the living room and I sent him upstairs, his hissy fit is multiplied by fifty. At least. And that's damn impressive.

The fit has something to do with Legos. Maybe Darwin broke something he made? Really, I don't give a fuck.

Rule: if you don't want anyone messing with something, PUT IT UP.

Rule: don't bitch about it if they do because you didn't put it up.

Oh my hell.

Four more fucking hours, four more fucking hours, four more fucking hours...

Ah F-F-F-Foolin'

While I was on the phone with a friend...

"Hey Mommy, who are you talkin' too?"

"I'm talkin' to the gypsies, Griffin. We're trying to agree on a price for you."

"Oh.... I DON'T WANT TO BE SOLD TO THE GYPSIES! Wwwwaaaaaaahhhhhh! DON'T SELL ME TO THE GYPSIES! I'D MISS DADDY TOO MUCH!"

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, Daddy! BECAUSE HE'S NOT THE ONE SELLING ME TO THE GYPSIES!"

"But it's because of HIS five-week business trip that I need to sell you to the gypsies!"

(One more day, oh my heavenly fuck, one more day.)

And I'm Giving All My Love to This World

"Mommy?"

"Yes, Griffin?"

"I can't wait to go to the art fair!"

"Great!"


"Hey, Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"If I meet an artist I like, can I invite them over to look at my art?"


"Mommy?"

"Yes, Griffin?"

"This one really isn't art. I don't like it."

"Why?"

"Because it looks too much like real life. Art shouldn't look like real life."

Alrighty, then.


"Mommy, we need to hang your art in the playroom."

"No, I think we'll hang it in the living room."

"But! I want it in the playroom with my art."

"I know that, Griff. But we should have art throughout our home, not just in the playroom."

And I Feel Like I Just Got Home

{Before}



{After}



Those damn curtains took me nearly all damn weekend to make them. Including countless times of sending naughty-naughty children to put their noses in the corner. And ironing. And sewing on the kitchen counter. And pinning the fabric on carpet. And dust (god damn, those old ones were gross).

But it was so totally worth it.

If You Start Me Up, If You Start Me Up I'll Never Stop

Holy fucking shit, y'all.


The fabric is getting cut.

And I'm sniffling.

There is Something Goin' Down

On the walk to get Griffin from school today...

"Hey Darwin, can you sing your ABC's?"

"Yep! A, B, C, D, E, M, N, O, P, X, Y, Z!"

"Um, let's try that again, okay?"

"Otay!"

"A, B..."

"A, B..."

"C, D..."

"C,D.."

"E, F..."

"E, F..."

"G, H..."

"G, H..."

"I, J..."

"I, J..."

"K, L.."

"Karate!"

"M, N..."

"Karate!"

"O, P..."

"Karate! Karate! KARATE!"

"Q, R.."

"KaraTE!"

"S, T..."

"Karate chop!"

"U, V..."

"Karate!"

"W, X..."

"Karate chop-chop!"

"Y and Z."

"Karate! Let's do that again, Mommy!"

She Can Roll with the Punches Long as She Feels Like She's in Control

Operation De-Poopify the House is underway.

My house is way too brown. Or, at least, the living room is.

Now, if you went and looked at the pictures, please note the big massive wardrobe is back in the entry room and the entry room has been painted a mossy green. Oh, and those brown end tables are on either side of the couch.

This weekend I bought seven yards of pretty fabric to replace my hideous drapes. Good gravy, someone liked depressing drapes, didn't they?


Whew, that's gonna be so much better when completed.

I have lots of ironing to do, obviously. And I have to figure out which sheet to use for the backing or if I need to purchase something else (please, sweet baby universe, let a thrifted sheet be long enough, amen).

Also? Me thinks I need to take new pix of the room. Those are way out dated.

And also? We need to have a vote -- I think I want to tear down this flower arrangement thingy that was left by the last owner, over seven years ago. It's been bothering me for... oh, since we moved in.

Hey, if "Capello" doesn't stand for "productive" and "on the ball" and "making her house her home immediately after purchasing it" I don't know what does.

Something in Your Eyes Calls to Mind the Silver Screen and All its Sad Good-Byes

Aaron's gone. ::sigh:: Again. ::sigh:: For at least another week. ::sigh::

I don't know if I'll survive if I continue to huff and puff. ::sigh::

Griffin is doing much better, now improved with normal poops!

He's really gonna love me in 10 years, I just know it.

Apparently over the course of relaxing and fighting over Legos all weekend (my Legos are my Legos, I am not required to share), Aaron and I caught Griffin's stomach bug.

Turns out you really don't want to eat or drink anything.

Unless you are me and come up with a magic tonic.


Also known as a mojito. Don't you fucking judge me.

It has everything in it to cure stomach ailments -- alcohol to kill the bug, simple syrup to help you metabolize the alcohol, club soda to make it fizzy and thus a drink for those who are sick and mint and limes for nutrients.

In fact, ::whine:: my stomach hurts. I think I need another.