Confessions Round 5 (Baby Edition).

Confessions.

1.) One of my least favorite baby activities is bath time. I’ll give bath time two things: one – she loves it and two – naked, splashing babies are adorable. Other than that? It’s a total pain. Crouching over the tub, trying to clean her baby rolls while she thrashes about… you get the picture. I secretly dread it.

2.) I feel a little sad that she’s starting solids. My baby feels less like a baby now that she’s on the verge of eating grown up food. You would think I’d be ecstatic at having the chance to supplement her exclusively breast fed diet, but I’m actually sad that it’s the start of her not being so reliant on me for all her needs. They grow so fast, sob.

3.) After being terrified of cutting her nails as a newborn… I secretly love doing it. Cutting newborn nails is THE WORST. But, cutting off the exceedingly fast growing velociraptor claws? VINDICATION. Oh, and I’ve switched from the nail clippers to the little infant scissors and they’re a total game changer.

4.) I can’t stand the whine scream. She can cry all day if it means that it would stop the occasional whine scream. The noise she makes is a mix between a frustrated warthog and the screaming Mandrake plant from Harry Potter and it makes me want to pull my hair out. Christian is the exact opposite which works out really well, I take the crying baby and he takes the whine screamer.

5.) I love my dogs less. It’s true. I was so afraid of this happening and it absolutely did. Don’t get me wrong, I like them and enjoy my daily puppy snuggles. However, they drive me crazy much more often and my patience for their shenanigans has dropped significantly.

Have any confessions you feel like unloading? If so, please share!

Want to see my past confessions? You can check them all out over here.

Confessions Round 4.

Confessions.

1.) I frequently burst out into song. And, the timing doesn’t always make sense. I could be singing the dogs a little diddy that I’ve just made up or dropping the lyrics to the Star Spangled Banner while sautéing some veggies for fajitas. It probably gets old, but Christian (and the puppies) are pretty good sports about not telling me how ridiculous I am.

2.) I sleep with an eye mask. If I don’t have one… I don’t sleep. Case in point, last Tuesday I’d somehow managed to wrangle the thing off my head (and even over my messy bun) and found myself totally awake a 4:00am blindly trying to find it in the mess of blankets around me.

3.) I burn myself ALL THE TIME. You might think this means that I burn myself a lot when cooking, which it does. (For instance just last week I pulled a frittata out of the oven only to turn around and grab the handle of the pan (re: 375 degrees) and scream profanity/cry incessantly for the next hour as my hand blistered). This, also, means that I burn myself on the blow dryer, curling iron, clothes iron and on the scalding water that comes out of our faucet.

4.) I’ll only eat flavored mayo. Plain mayo is nasty – let’s just get that out there – it’s not good unless it’s mixed into tuna or egg salad. Period. However, if you stir in a little garlic or chipotle or marinara sauce you will find me crazy eyed and licking the bowl.

5.) I’m crazy nostalgic. I have nightgowns from when I was little, old folded up notes from my friends, ticket stubs, my favorite jeans from high school, weird tchotchkes from my grandma, books from my older sister, CD mixes I made years ago etc.  I, also, have a hard time throwing away birthday cards even if there’s no personal message because I may want them some day.

Have any confessions you feel like unloading? If so, please share! The more that I do these, the more I realize that I’ve got a lot of weird tendencies quirks.

Want to see my past confessions? You can check them all out over here.

Confessions Round 3.

Nuggets game against the OKC Thunder

1. I don’t BOO at Nuggets (NBA) games. Let me clarify. I was raised with the belief that Boo-ing is bad sportsmanship and it wasn’t something we ever did. So, when the arena erupts in Boo’s the moment an opponent goes to shoot a free throw, you’ll find me silent (and cringing). However, I’m all for boo-ing bad calls and players that ask for it (I’m looking at you Westbrook — after the Rocky goal tending episode).

2. Each night I compulsively make the bed. This seems ridiculous since I don’t take the time to make the bed in the morning… but I don’t. There is no possible way for me to sleep if the sheets are haphazard, un-aligned and slowly un-tucking from under the mattress. Christian thinks I’m nuts, but I don’t care. A girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.

3.) Remembering to zip the zipper on my pants is a 50/50 endeavor. Half the time I’m pleasantly surprised to find them zipped the next time I head to the bathroom or change my clothes. The other half of the time. It’s down, and I don’t even have a good excuse.

4. I don’t really like Starbucks. You might be thinking BLASPHEMY or be nodding your head along with me – I find its usually one of the two. I don’t drink  coffee and find the rest of their products just mediocre. Their tea – alright. Their chai – alright. Their hot chocolate – alright. You won’t find me with an intense Starbucks craving, though I’ll go occasionally.  Each time I find myself thinking about it, it’s quickly cut short by the realization that I don’t actually want to go. Weird, right?

5.) I have chubby fingers. My ring size ranges from 8-9 depending on where it’s from. I long for dainty, lady-like fingers, but alas, I have sausages instead. For the record, I don’t think that they immediately look humongous, but when I can barely squeeze a friend’s ring on to my pinkie finger the full realization sets in.

You have any confessions you feel like unloading? If so, please share! The more that I do these, the more I realize that I’ve got a lot of weird tendencies quirks.

Confessions Round 2.

1.) I cannot remember to pluck my eyebrows.

Like ever. It all comes to a head when I do a double take wondering if I’ve got just a touch too much foundation near my eyebrows only to realize it’s been over a month since I gave them some attention. For my sister’s wedding last month, I had my make-up done. As I’m surveying the wonder that is even skin tone I realize I can’t even remember the last time I gave the ‘ol caterpillars a pluck.

2.) Dairy doesn’t do good things to me.

I’d say you have a 50/50 chance of witnessing me double over in agony after slurping down a quart of frozen yogurt or snarfing a bowl of steaming mac ‘n cheese. I can’t say no and I pay the price. Le sigh.

3.) I make up theme songs for my dog. 

We already knew that I was a crazy dog lady and that Charlie is a straight up dog child in this house — but I’m pretty sure this is taking it to the next level. Currently our neighbors have the pleasure of hearing me belt the following tune each night when I get home from work:

His name is Charlie
He’s a small dog…
With a big heart. 

I wish I could tell you the tune that I sing it too, but only heaven knows where I got it (or I may have made it up).

4.) Turns out I watched H.R. Pufnstuf as a child.

I spent many an hour trying to figure out what show I watched growing up with a magic flute. Which, until, recently never yielded much in the results category. However, I stumbled across H.R. Pufnstuf on Netflix and found myself a highly disturbing show that fit the bill of my magic flute. Enjoy:

5.) I don’t really like football. 

When I say I don’t like football, this does not apply to tailgating. You can’t pry my hot dog obsessed self away from a parking lot filled with grills, coolers and tailgating food. But, when you get to the game part — not so interested. I’d rather chat or, if I’m at home, take a nap until the last few minutes of the fourth quarter. I’m not American… I know.

 

Confessions.

1.) I don’t like root beer. It’s just not for me. Once in a while Christian will bring one home from lunch out – lurking in an unsuspecting soda cup – and I’ll find the misfortune to take a big gulp. Yuck.

2.) Breakfast is BY FAR my least favorite meal of the day. Too sweet for this gal.

3.) I’m scared of heights. Standing near the edge, jumping from high places and just generally being un-naturally high in altitude scares the pants off of me. I had to scoot up a rock on my butt and muster all that I had just to stand up for this picture. It doesn’t look high, but it drops on all sides. Shiver.

4.) I’ve read every single Nicholas Sparks book. A great friend got me started when he gave me “A Walk to Remember” as a birthday present in high school (knowing full well I had an indecent obsession with the movie). Little did he know I’d go on to read each and every one of the books ‘ol Mr. Sparks had written over the next eight years.

5.) I’m shamefully addicted to Sister Wives. Typically, I shun ridiculous reality television, but come on…  a Mormon dude with three four wives, 400 kids and all sorts of crazy shenanigans that ran away from Utah!?! Um, hello, fascination.