Last I left you, my dedicated @#%! friends, I was very pregnant and a little angry.
Rest assured, eight weeks later, I am no longer pregnant!
You may have already known that if you follow my instagram or facebook, and if you don’t, well you should be because then you wouldn’t have been waiting two months with bated breath for this press release.
Adding a tiny new member to the family was an easier transition than expected, although it helped immensely that Little A started part-time preschool so he’s out of the house three mornings a week.
*throws more confetti*
I also had a steady stream of help in the way of grandmas and paternity leave so I was rarely left unattended to deal with the two mini hell-raisers. But that’ll change next week
Please send bourbon.
The birth-by-induction was a wee bit harder than the first but I’ll tell you all about that someday. She’s here, she’s growing, she’s starting to smile for realsies and she’s pretty @$^$!@# awesome. I don’t even hate pink as much as I expected to.
I need to knock the dust of this old blog thing. Anything you’re interested in reading from me? I need ideas, otherwise you’ll get a whole lot of MY BABY IS CUTE SO SUCK ON THAT.
And I think I can be more interesting than that.
Dear #%!# Mini B.
Is it because I didn’t write prenatal blogs about you like I did with your brother?
Is it because I threw caution to the wind this time and ate ham and drank coffee and soda and an occasional (late-term) beer with reckless abandon?
Is it because every kick, punch and cervix bounce over these last nine months didn’t earn you praise, recognition and squeals of WTF-induced excitement?
Is it because your room isn’t totally finished? Or that I can’t just say yes to the name?
WHAT’S THE DEAL, DUDE?! Continue reading
First, let’s discuss some missing details and catch up things because I’ve been absent from this blog, for the most part, for the last nine months.
That’s my Over It face.
I’m due tomorrow.
It’s a girl.
She is still not 100% named.
I have been calling her Mini B because she is baby #2 after Little A and she is showing signs of my bitchiness. Mini Bitch. Mini B. Get it?
I guess that’ll help fill in the gaps. On to business. Continue reading
It started off being exhausted from a weekend in Chicago filled with too much walking, an epic concert, a sorority reunion and a couple otters. Also an amazingly ludicrous meltdown that had a toddler crying, drooling, spitting, flailing and melting from downtown Chicago to Midway Airport, through the baggage check line, past security and all the way to the gate. So that was a fun ending to the trip. But the flight? Mot@#$!f#@$ angel. At least he gave me that. Continue reading
Irish Cupcakes, made with Guinness, Baileys and Jameson. More booze than your average recipe means more delicious for your facehole.
Everyone and their dog has a recipe for Irish Cupcakes, aka Irish Car Bombs. But let’s be real here, mine are going to be the best. Because I add extra booze. If you’re going to put booze in cupcakes, you better be able to #@%$@ taste it and the recipes I started with, well, they just tasted like cupcakes. Not booze cakes. I LIKE BOOZE CAKES.
For the unfamiliar, there are Guinness chocolate cupcakes, Jameson whiskey ganache filling and Baileys buttercream to top it all off. Yeah. I know, right? Continue reading