Category Archives: family

steals

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So, I’m cheap.

I like getting good quality stuff for bargain basement prices.

I constantly search for deals and ask for better prices.

Husband finds me embarassing.

It paid off the other day, however, when I found two matching (I know, lame) snowsuits for the Behbez at Bonnie Togs.

Oshkosh B’Gosh two-piece suits with hats and neckwarmers.

They’re regularly $80.

I paid FIFTEEN BUCKS.

That’s EIGHTY PERCENT OFF!

Okay, so they’re not as ‘pretty’ as they could be (navy with raspberry and grey accents), but they’re well-made and good for -30*F (you know, for when I banish them to Siberia).

Did I mention they were FIFTEEN BUCKS?!

baby’s got (garlic on her) back

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So, we’ve been struck down by The Plague here at Chez Somethingfrench.

While we rarely get sick in our house, it generally takes a particular course:

Sore throat –>
Stuffy/drippy head-cold –>
Cough –>
Lung Infection/Asthma

Now, I’m generally able to cut the whole ordeal down just a sore throat with some liberally applied Cold-FX, but since I’m breastfeeding and I couldn’t find any actual information about combining the two, I was hesitant.

Not that it mattered this time, anyhow.

A cough one day turned into a lung infection the next.

A lung infection invited head-cold along and in the space of 48 hours, our entire household was a coughing/hacking/sneezing/dripping/crying/miserable mess.

Especially sucky for Behbez as How The Heck Do You Get Them To Blow Their Tiny Little Noses?

Pinterest to the rescue!  (Again.)

It’s called GOOT and it’s saved us.

Garlic Olive and coconut Oil Treatment

3 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
3 tbsp coconut oil
6+ cloves garlic, minced

*  Gently heat all ingredients in a small pan until coconut oil is melted.
*  Add all ingredients to a blender (or Magic Bullet) and eviscerate.
*  Pour into small, wide-mouthed container and chill 1 hour before using.
*  Keep refrigerated.

To use:

*  Spread liberally on back, feet, chest, (whatever part of your body that’s ailin’ you) and cover with clothing you don’t care about.

click

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So, my son seems to be a budding photographer.

I found him on the floor with my digital p&s this morning, taking pictures of Baby Yellow Bear.

He’d take a picture.

Then change the pose.

And take another.


I was both proud of his ability to figure out the workings of my camera and his interest in creativity.

Until I found him using the timer to take pictures of himself and Baby Yellow Bear.

Naked as the day he was born.

(More, really, as he wasn’t covered in a fine layer of sludge.)

Now, I’d say I’m a fairly open-minded parent when it comes to her children’s chosen vocation.

Photographer?  Sure.

Tattoo Artist?  Sounds good.

Chartered Accountant?  Not my first choice, but Mommy will still love you.

Three-year old p0rn star?  NOT.  SO.  MUCH.

I’m cryin’ cryin’

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So, towards the end of my pregnancy, I struggled with how to explain birth to my three-year old son.

Since Behbez positioning (breech and transverse) pretty much guaranteed a c-section, I wondered how to make him understand how the whole “Behbez in Muhmez tummeh” –> “Behbez outta Muhmez tummeh” would happen.

But, you know, without freaking him out.

I decided on a YouTube video.

Relax.

The one I found was relatively bloodfree.  No screams.  No showing of the actual incision.  Just a Mom’s-Eye-View of Behbez coming out over the hill of the stomach.

Gabe was fascinated – asking questions in his barely coherent way.

“Behbez outta Muhmez tummeh?”

and

“I holda Behbez?”

Everything went downhill, however, when the cords were cut.

“Booboo, Muhmeh!”

No, hon.  It doesn’t hurt.

“Booboo Behbez!”

It’s okay, love.

“No, Muhmeh!  Behbez booboo PENIS!”

Whaa?

“Booboo penis!”

Shit.

“Penis GONE!”

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Now, I’m telling you this, not only to make you feel better about your own stellar parenting moments, but also so that when Gabe pulls a Buffalo Bill, the team of Forensic Psychologists sent to study him can pinpoint the exact moment it all went horribly wrong.

The Captain Returns

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So, Brandon recently celebrated his first birthday.

As Husband, Behbeh and I have been lucky enough to stay in contact with him and his amazing new family, we were invited to the party.

Good times (and good food) were had by all.

At said party, I joked to his mom about bio mom’s tendency to pop out a child every summer.

Me:  You’d better get ready for Baby #2.  I expect you’ll get a call from CAS any day now, wanting to place Brandon’s newest sibling.

B’s Mom:  Don’t even joke.   Can you imagine?  We’re just getting settled with this one!

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About a week later, I got this email:

So you predicted right.
Guess who just gave birth to a little girl?
We have a huge decision to make.

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And you know what’s crazier than having four babies in four years?
Four babies you don’t even want?
Crazier than CAS asking them if they want another child one year and 15 days younger than their first child?  With no prep time?

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THEY’RE DOING IT!

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I can’t tell you how happy their decision has made me.

I know it’s going to be crazy for them over the next several months, but I can’t think of a better outcome for those kids than being together in that particular home.

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I spend a lot of time being displeased by the world and the majority of the people in it.

This is not one of those times.

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Sweet Nothings

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While watching Kung-Fu Panda – the part when Crane mocks Poe for not being able to see his feet – the Love of My Life comments:

Husband:  Remind you of anyone?

Me:  (Sprawled out on the couch, looking down over my enormously pregnant belly)  What are you talking about?  I can totally see my feet.

Husband:  Yeah, but can you see your snatch?

Me: Not without a mirror.

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And after a comment like that, neither will he.