I have an ip tracker that shows who looks at my blog. Knowing that a few select people look at my blog 70+ times a day is a little unsettling. I mean what the fuck are they looking at? Mabel isn’t that cute, nor am I that funny. Gives me the creeps. I just don’t feel comfortable sharing anything remotely personal anymore.
Me: What do you want for lunch?
Mabel: Ummm, I have pummus (hummus) and carrots and grapes and sammich (sandwich) with bee-gan-ayes (Veganaise) and Mabel cheese (Daiya) and comic books… And maybe I have peanut butter sammich tomorrow with crackers and strawberries… What we have for dinner? I take a nap then have a clif bar? The chocolate one.
Gross, no! My brain can’t handle another kid right now and I’d rather put cigarettes out in my eyeballs than ever be pregnant again, haha.
Me: Did you know that I love you?
Mabel: Uh, did you know that I sleeping?
Me: Oh, do you want me to be quiet.
Mabel: Yeah, mom. (fake snores)
I wonder how old Mabel will be when she realizes that “let’s just cuddle on the couch and watch tv because mommy’s brain hurts” actually means “mommy is too hungover to function.”
Sometimes I get adventurous and buy vegan jerky. Then I taste it and want to die.
- Interviewer: Okay. Which designers do you prefer?
- Hillary Clinton: What designers of clothes?
- Interviewer: Yes.
- Hillary Clinton: Would you ever ask a man that question?
- Interviewer: Probably not. Probably not.