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Halloween

Awesome things, babies, Eating Innapropriately, Halloween, hippie stuff, Preg Stuff, Sharing, Stuff I like

You’re invited to my last pregnant moments in a dress. I photoshopped out my nipples. You’re welcome.

October 7, 2012

Yesterday was the last warm day in Philadelphia for a long long time. I consider this the sun setting on my freedom. However yesterday was happy for another reason because IT WAS THE DAY OF MAH SPRANKLE.

 

 

Yes you are correct. You see glitter pumpkins and candy. I could have died in a corner covered in crumbs and been happy. But I know you do not give 7 shits about my cupcakes. You want to see what I wore. Because I only made the biggest deal about it since that stupid Kardashian shoe club.

That is me. In the grass. In my slutty preg outfit. Complete with outie belly button and nipples photshopped out. My body looks like the face of a surprised asian girl. And you can’t see the shoes but they are leopard flats. To be fair to fashion, I started the day out in black leather ankle booties. That lasted 30 seconds. Literally. I came in and threw on those flats right away.

In terms of my rental dresses, I ended up returning the blue and the red and keeping the gray and the green. Which one got the final rose, was a last minute call. But I’m happy with my choice. I liked that my boobs weren’t in everyone’s face. And I’m proud of that gigando bump. Although I was asked if I was having twins. I chose not to choke her though.

The jewelry was a tough call. I rented a bunch from Rent the Runway with mah points. I wore none of it. Instead I got this gem from Bauble Bar. Their jewelry is cute and not expensive. Although it’s not ALL like super Kate Middleton quality. It’s more like Nicki Minaj quality. Which I’m ok with.

The sprinkle itself was great. We kept it really small and only invited people who I really wanted to be there. Also I have 7 friends total. So that idea worked out great. But my favorite part of the shower was my regular strength friends colliding with my hippie friends. I’ll show you some of the differences.

 

Non hippie gift.

Handmade hippie gifts.

Yes, I cried. 30 times. The hippies also gave me more cloth diapers and handmade jewelry with Yoshe’s birthstone and a card detailing the  magical powers that the stones will give us. Everyone was really jealous that they didn’t have hippie friends of their own.

We also painted onesies.

Non hippie onesie.

 

Hippie onesie.

 

Really, I can’t lose.

And now some more pictures just because I’ll never look like this again. EVER. Note to shower attendees: pictures here were chosen solely based on how good I looked in them.

 

Scrubs for G! Do you die? Get them here

And yes, this also made me cry. Because of the matching onesie that says “You make me happy when skies are gray”. (secret: B cried too when he saw it). Get it here

And that’s it friends. My last “thing”  until Yoshe shows her face in my lady parts. The countdown is on. We are at 5 weeks as of today. Thanks for virtually attending mah sprankle. Your presence did not go unnoticed.

xoxo

massive modg

this also happened.

meow.

Yesterday was the last warm day in Philadelphia for a long long time. I consider this the sun setting…

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Awesome things, B, Halloween, Mom Stuff

Halloween was 3% successful. I owe that to the smart readers.

November 1, 2011

Me: B, I want G to be an alien for Halloween

B: Ok whatever

Me: And then we can be men in black.

B: OH COOL I’LL BE WILL SMITH AND YOU CAN BE THE OTHER GUY AND WE’LL HAVE LASERS AND THINGS AND ALSO THA…

Me: Woah. Slow your roll homes. I’m talking REAL men in black. Like the originals.

B: OH COOL SO LIKE MEN IN BLACK PART ONE AWESOME WE’LL GET THE STUFF AND THE THI…

Me: NO NO NO. Like actual men in black that threaten people who “know too much”. Don’t you watch ANY alien documentaries?

B: But But Bu…

Me: And further more, I was busy every 4th of July in the 90’s and therefor have never seen Men in Black 1, 2, 3 or that one with the White House.

B: mumbles wellitwasprettycool mumble mumble mumble

And so our Halloween costumes were born. And of course there are no baby Alien costumes on the internet that aren’t related to a Pixar movie. No thank you Pixar, I’ll take Sleeping Beauty circa 198whatever.

And in the following pictures you will see that every.single.one the boy has some food in his mouth. We’re talking his first fruit roll up. All to get the damn hat on and stay on.

I believe that the fact that my “career wear” in my closet is now my halloween costume, makes quite the statement about my life.

Although let’s be clear, I was not a tie lesbian at work. I think.

 

And you my friends,  have earned your rights as readers to continue reading the nonsense that I write for teaching me how to get this child to wear a hat.

Bribery and distraction.

But then the alien won this round. And was now just some sort of 1950’s evil space leader. Things got ugly from here on out

We made it to one house. ONE. But we’ll keep that secret between you and I.

Because cost of costume per house is math that I don’t need in my life. AND NEITHER DO YOU B.

Next I’ll be contacting MUFON.

Thank you,

MODG and team.

 

Me: B, I want G to be an alien for Halloween B: Ok whatever Me: And then we can…

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babies, Halloween, I love cats and if you don't you can bite me., Mom Stuff, Not Pleased

It’s a Halloween emergency. My child CAN NOT reject Halloween.

October 31, 2011

The same people who told me that my insane newborn was a “high needs baby” are now telling me that I have a “strong willed child”. Let’s just call a taco a taco. My child is his mom. Stubborn and defiant. Now I know, he’s only 11 months old. He’s not out to get me. Unless he’s a super genius and totally out to get me. No, he’s not. Probably.

Within the past 2 months, G has totally become a person. He does tricks. Not that my baby is a dog. He’s not. But he does do stuff on command. Although he’s probably going to slice me if I has him one more time how big is Gavin. But when he puts his hands way in the air with a big smile, I die. And I just want to see it over and over. And when you ask him to give you a kiss, he sticks his tongue out like some weird french sort of kiss. But it’s still ADORABLE. And I want to see those tricks over and over. But what has come with learning to do stuff, is learning not to do stuff.

We have very specific things that are hated by our strong willed child. We hate safety and warmth via hats and sleeves and we hate anything clean. This poses numerous problems. We have baby proofed the SHIT out of our house. I’m talking tv up on the wall, fireplace enclosed in protective glass proofed. This shit was not cheap. But 11 months old don’t know no. OR, they totally know no and thinks it’s hilarious.

Here’s how it started. G has always been a great eater. He eats anything we give him and then eats more. But lately he stares deeply into our eyes as we present him his favorite meatballs, picks it up without losing eye contact, slowly stretches his arm to the side and just opens his fist, as it drops to the floor, waiting for our reaction, stone cold glare.


He waits.

Here are the reactions I’ve tried

No G. Mommy worked hard to make you that reheated broccoli from dinner 3 nights ago.

NO G. YOU DO NOT THROW FOOD ON THE FLOOR THAT IS FOR TERRIBLE BABIES AND YOU ARE A JOY

Let’s keep our food on our try and in our mouths because that’s for winners!

(ignore ignore ignore)

And then B laughs and G wins the game.

This game of how can I get a reaction has transcended to climbing into the fireplace and now banging on the glass that was purchased to prevent climbing into the fireplace, chewing on cords of death, smacking our hands into our diaper poop and bucking straight out of our stroller and carseat.

When I talk to people about this they are all, oh he’s young for this sort of thing. GREAT. What does that mean for our future?

I can not be the mom in the store screaming at my child to stop punching strangers and no the box of tampons is not a box of rockets.

And now for the reason behind this post. It’s halloween. THE BEST HOLIDAY OF THEM ALL. And I may have had G’s costume made like 4 months ago. And I probably didn’t know that my child will fully believe that hats are in fact out to kill his head. And the whole essence of the costume is the hat. AND AND AND do you know how many damn baby costumes are in my facebook feed right now? Oooh your lion baby is so cute. Oooh your pumpkin baby is so cute. OOOH your Teresa Guidice baby is so cute.

I NEED TO PARTICIPATE. I mean G does. Whatever.

It’s do or die people. WE MUST get the hat on G. Trust me, you want to see this.

Help.

And also help me not have to mop my floor 4 times a day.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN PAGANS.

xoxo

MODG

The same people who told me that my insane newborn was a “high needs baby” are now telling me…

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Halloween, pregnant stuff

Witch does rhyme with bitch which rhymes with 2moremonthsgoodgod…

November 1, 2010

Hey kids. Halloween isn’t just about candy and monsters and blood. It’s also about awareness and sex talk.

Abstinence is the only true way to prevent witch pregnancy. Yeah I’m a witch. What you couldn’t tell?

B told me to put on a witch hat but I declined because that isn’t fashiony. My sparkle necklace and cocktail rings however, were. Kids were scared. I know it.

PS Let’s all just acknowledge my monstrous boobs and move on with our day. Thanks.

Halloween hearts and murder,

MODG

Hey kids. Halloween isn’t just about candy and monsters and blood. It’s also about awareness and sex talk. Abstinence…

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B, Halloween

B, Err day should be your birthday. So stop being creepy and spooky about it.

October 27, 2010

oooooh OOOOH boooooo (those are ghost sounds)
Helloooo friends. It’s the spoooookiest time of the year. oooh OOOH. (not sex sounds). So turn on your night lights, hold your mom’s hand and pee your pants because…..

The spookiest time of year is B’S BIRTHDAY WHICH IS TODAY!

B is 31 years old today. And every year B’s birthday is filled with mystery, suspense and spooks and sometimes murder feelings. It goes like this:

Me: B, your birthday is coming up!
B: oh my birthday is dumb we don’t have to make a big deal about it.
Me: DID YOU HEAR ME SAY BIRTHDAY AND PRESENTS AND CAKES AND GLITTER?
B: Yes, let’s just ignore it this year.
Me: Here is what’s happening right now. You’re saying “Amanda I’m going to make this very hard on you by giving you no indication of things I like or want ever. So good luck and I hate you”
B: rolls eyes and turns on ESPN

And I am left in the areyouafraidofthedark as to what to do for B’s birthday. AGAIN.

One year I threw him a surprise party and he basically cried in the corner over getting attention. Dumb. Attention is like crack to me. B apparently isn’t into crack. Doubledumb.

Another year I got him a nice leather laptop bag, which he wanted. And then returned. 3 times.

Sometimes I get him clothes. Then he says, “flat front pants? But everyone at work wears pleated pants”. After I clean up the vomit from my mouth, I remind him that he works with all overweight 60 year olds.

Last year we went on a trip to Charleston, SC. Now he says that was too much money and dumb. Way to cherish the memories B.

So here we are again. Faced with the spooookiest most mysterious day of the year. B’s birthday. What will I do? And how fast will he return it?

I will inform you all of B’s gift tomorrow and report back on my spooky findings. I definitely read a Christopher Pike book that started like this circa 1990. I think it ended with a witch who made out with a wolf.

Feel free to wish B a happy birthday. He always reads your comments and then pretends like he didn’t later on.

So B, don’t be shy about your birthday and let’s make it less dark and mysterious next year. You should enjoy it and embrace it like Flo Rida does. Err day should be your special day. He even gets emotional about it. Which I totally get.

Err Day I Wanna Stunt
Err Day I Want Sum Candles
Err Day A Hundred Bucks
Err Day I Pull Up In Lambo, Filet Mignon For Lunch
Where My Birthday
U Got My Birthday
When My Birthday
U Better Day My Birthday
I Get Emotional
That’s Wat C Notes Will Do

Err Day B. Err day.

Just saying.
Love you B,

Amanda

oooooh OOOOH boooooo (those are ghost sounds) Helloooo friends. It’s the spoooookiest time of the year. oooh OOOH. (not…

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Drunk Stuff, Halloween, Psychic stuff

Memorial Day is scarier than Halloween. In a ghost and terror kind of way.

June 1, 2010
Welcome back to hell everyone!
Sometimes I’m like, don’t even give me that extra day because it makes coming back that much worse. Like you’re going to throw the awesomeness of weekday freedom in my face for 24 hours and then expect me to be cool with just letting it slip through my fingers like that time my dvr just forgot to record Vampire Diaries? Hell.

 

Let’s focus on what Memorial Day is really about though. Ghosts.  So in celebration and respect, I watched 40 billion tv shows about ghosts.

disregard. I didn't watch porn this weekend.

I sat in the dark, in the AC with Willy and learned as much as I could about the paranormal… again. Again because I already watched most of the shows once before, so it was like a refresher course. I feel like I was doing my civic duty to our fallen soldiers by trying to figure out if any are stuck in a time space warp in my basement. B says he checked. But he also rolls his eyes when he says that. He could be on their side so I can’t trust him.

That’s the thing with ghosts…They are ultra fascinating and educational but if you ever were like, hey Amanda let’s go to that old house and bring a sacrificial lamb and a Ouija board and charms and spells and have a sleepover. I would give you the, you’re a fool’s fool look and run to church. Ok definitely not church, but probably McDonald’s….no Taco Bell. The bell makes it more holy like and I totally worship their soft taco.

I think I’m so scared because psychics have told me that I am also kind of psychic, which I totally already knew. Like how I always know when B had farted in a room and then walked away. So I know that ghosts are just waiting for me to be open enough for them to communicate. Which I don’t want. I would not handle it well and make B sell our house. And then the ghost would follow me to the next house and then I’d have a demon and then it would take over my body and then it would kill B through my body and then I’d be a murderer.

So I can’t watch ghost shows anymore. I don’t want to commit murder.

Happy Hell Day back everyone. I hope you spent the weekend respecting ghosts.

Respect.

Welcome back to hell everyone! Sometimes I’m like, don’t even give me that extra day because it makes coming…

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