She didn't earn it

I was perfectly prepared for no boy to be good enough for my little girl. I mean, that's still a good 10 years away (I hope), but I was prepared nonetheless. The one that blindsided me? Emily's new mom. She announced right after Christmas that Crystal is her other mommy - she has two. I held up okay for about a week, but now the thought brings tears to my eyes. Emily is the only person in the world who gets to call me mommy. And now I have to share it with some 22-year old who lives with my ex-husband. She seems nice enough and she seems to have a good relationship with Emily, but I still don't think that qualifies her to be "Mommy." She just...didn't earn it.

Fictional United States Republicans

I stole this from another blog, and had a blast doing it. Go to Wikipedia and click "Random Article" 17 times. The first article title is the name of your new band, the next is the title of your breakthrough album, and the following 15 articles are the songs. I like to think my album is an eclectic mix of cynical, folksy-alternative songs with bluesy undertones.So with no further ado, I present:

High and Driving by Fictional United States Republicans!

1. Broadband Internet Access in Bulgaria
2. Up at the Lake
3. Disambiguation
4. Pueblo de San Francisco
5. Shlomo Aldman
6. David Kerr
7. Still Dirrty
8. 1992 Minnesota Vikings Season
9. Delimora Transmitter
10. Mary Collins
11. Bitstream, Inc.
12. WLTZ
13. Bacha Khan Zadran
14. Orthopedic East
15. Noisettes

You know you want to too

Emily and I just got back from a five day trip to see Ben in DC. It was a crazy, exhausting trip on which Emily did very well. She did, however, pick up some new quirks. Apparently, all this exposure to numerous public bathrooms has left my sweet little girl with potty on the brain. If she thinks it, she says it - such is her way. I spent a large portion of our trip explaining that that we do not talk about human excrement anywhere except in the bathroom; preferably the bathroom at home. Where no one can hear us. As we sat waiting at the airport for the final leg of our flight back to ol' BCS, we encountered one of my co-workers. It wasn't long before Emily had to go potty so Debbie kindly offered to watch our stuff. Upon our return, she requested we extend the same service. I agreed, little did I know that as Debbie walked away Emily would scream across the airport "Are you going to go peepee or poopy?" I was overcome with embarrassment, but now I have to fight the urge to scream "POOP" every few minutes just to see what kind of satisfaction could be derived.