Today is National Coffee Day.
http://www.mypunchbowl.com/holidays/2009/9/29/national-coffee-day
To all my fellow caffeine addicts out there, let's celebrate.
My mom picked up my coffee this morning, so no knowing if my Dunkies was giving out freebies. I might have to stop by on my way home from work!
Tuesday, September 29, 2009
I Was Milked
I don't want to constantly blog about breastfeeding, but since it is something that takes up a huge part of my day and I am constantly thinking about it--you will for the next few months, have to read a little bit about it.
Anyway, last week my nipples were burning.
This was not a minor discomfort, this was something else. I decided to call in a lactation specialist to check it out. I had met with a woman when the Lady was first born and called her again. She showed up a half-hour late after pulling into the Market in front of our house and getting involved in a minor fender-bender with a wall in her rental car--because her other car was in the shop getting repaired from another small accident. Not a great driver obviously, but she is pretty knowledgeable about the boobs.
Once you have had children, your modesty kind of goes out the window. I will still turn my back if I am changing in front of my husband, because even though he has seen it all and more, and even though I whip out my boobs like thirty times a day--and not in the good sexy way--I don't need to remind him of my belly flap and stretch marks. However, when it comes to complete strangers, I will apparently, strip down for a Brazilian or just casually expose my breasts to bad drivers.
So, I found myself standing in my living room--while the Lady watched the "Wonder Pets" and the little Lady hung out in her bassinet--being milked by a virtual stranger.
Along with having basically a yeast infection on my nipples--I know--SUPER GROSS, I also have two blocked ducts (or blebs--the technical term), one on each boob. She descried the bleb as basically a blackhead on my breast. Great. Not only do I have acne on my face I have it on my tits.
The lactation specialist was trying to loosen the block by basically "popping" the bleb by scraping it with her fingernail and then trying to get the milk to flow by milking me.
And believe me the milk was flying. Part of me was annoyed because we were wasting so much milk. It was flying across the room, onto the floor and directly on the front of the lactation specialists red suede jacket.
Let's talk a bit about times in your life where you have stopped for a moment and taken in the present situation at hand. When, if ever, did I think that I would be so aware of myself as a mammal? I wondered quite frankly how I had gotten there in that exact moment, leaning against my couch, both boobs out, with the little Lady starting to stir, listening to yet another irritating theme song from a children's show, staining a suede shirt, while being pawed and pinched. How had this happened?
After going through a few paper towels, and not being able to "pop" the blocked duct, I was prescribed some cream for the yeast and something else to dull the nipple pain so that when I tried to pop it myself it wouldn't totally kill.
I also was given a flyer on how to self-express milk. I am thinking of framing it or scrapbooking it as a reminder of this time in my life, when boobs were more functional than fun, where sleep was a precious commodity, where strangers instead of shaking hands, shake boobs, and when I was so fully aware of being a woman and a mother and all the responsibility and craziness that comes with it.
Anyway, last week my nipples were burning.
This was not a minor discomfort, this was something else. I decided to call in a lactation specialist to check it out. I had met with a woman when the Lady was first born and called her again. She showed up a half-hour late after pulling into the Market in front of our house and getting involved in a minor fender-bender with a wall in her rental car--because her other car was in the shop getting repaired from another small accident. Not a great driver obviously, but she is pretty knowledgeable about the boobs.
Once you have had children, your modesty kind of goes out the window. I will still turn my back if I am changing in front of my husband, because even though he has seen it all and more, and even though I whip out my boobs like thirty times a day--and not in the good sexy way--I don't need to remind him of my belly flap and stretch marks. However, when it comes to complete strangers, I will apparently, strip down for a Brazilian or just casually expose my breasts to bad drivers.
So, I found myself standing in my living room--while the Lady watched the "Wonder Pets" and the little Lady hung out in her bassinet--being milked by a virtual stranger.
Along with having basically a yeast infection on my nipples--I know--SUPER GROSS, I also have two blocked ducts (or blebs--the technical term), one on each boob. She descried the bleb as basically a blackhead on my breast. Great. Not only do I have acne on my face I have it on my tits.
The lactation specialist was trying to loosen the block by basically "popping" the bleb by scraping it with her fingernail and then trying to get the milk to flow by milking me.
And believe me the milk was flying. Part of me was annoyed because we were wasting so much milk. It was flying across the room, onto the floor and directly on the front of the lactation specialists red suede jacket.
Let's talk a bit about times in your life where you have stopped for a moment and taken in the present situation at hand. When, if ever, did I think that I would be so aware of myself as a mammal? I wondered quite frankly how I had gotten there in that exact moment, leaning against my couch, both boobs out, with the little Lady starting to stir, listening to yet another irritating theme song from a children's show, staining a suede shirt, while being pawed and pinched. How had this happened?
After going through a few paper towels, and not being able to "pop" the blocked duct, I was prescribed some cream for the yeast and something else to dull the nipple pain so that when I tried to pop it myself it wouldn't totally kill.
I also was given a flyer on how to self-express milk. I am thinking of framing it or scrapbooking it as a reminder of this time in my life, when boobs were more functional than fun, where sleep was a precious commodity, where strangers instead of shaking hands, shake boobs, and when I was so fully aware of being a woman and a mother and all the responsibility and craziness that comes with it.
Ugh, Work--Why Didn't I Bring a Stain Stick?--or--Am I Pumping in a Handicapped Bathroom?
Back to work!
I started my part-time/temp position on Tuesday with very mixed feelings and plenty of questions. Was I leaving the little Lady too soon? Was I relying too much on my mom for childcare? Was I throwing too many changes at the Lady? And more importantly, what would I wear and where would I pump?
I have been wearing yoga pants almost everyday for the past two years. Before that, I worked in a public county center with dirty old books that was frequented by the general public who may or may not have had questionable hygienic practices. I wore jeans and a hoodie most days.
The office I am working in is pretty casual, jeans can be worn everyday but lets just say the pre-preggo clothes aren't quite fitting and I am super tired of anything maternity. I really don't need to be wearing jeans that go from my boobs to my ankles--although it does cover the "before photo" that is my stomach!
My other problem is that I have no shirts to wear. I have what you might call a broad back, plus a little bit of a belly so tops are always an issue for me, but I had to make due so the first day back, I hiked up the full-body jeans, folded down the front panel and wore the shirt I had bought for "The View," you know, the one that kind of highlights my back fat. I slipped my feet into some ballet flats that hurt before I even left the house, packed my pump, grabbed my lunch and headed out the door (well actually my parent's door--my husband was out of town and it was easier just to stay there then worry about showering).
I tossed my Maybelline foundation in my bag to do a quick cover-up in the car, but it never quite made it on my face--it did however find its way to the front of my shirt. The bottle opened a little bit and smeared its way onto my wallet and apparently the bottom of my water bottle, which I leaned up against my shirt. Did you know that makeup doesn't really wash off? To add insult to injury I also opened my yogurt facing me and some splattered on my shirt. So there I was walking around the office searching for a place to pump with brown makeup stains and small dots of dried yogurt on my shirt.
Pumping at work is a foreign concept to me. Having no work to go to the first time around, I was unsure of how to approach the topic of finding an adequate place to pump. To make matters worse, I am only a temp at this office. I haven't even seen the entire floor, I don't know where there are offices vs. cubicles and I don't know who to ask to point me in the right direction. I had resigned myself to pump in the car!
After further review, I realized that they had a handicapped bathroom, separate from the regular bathrooms and it had a chair in it as well as a lock on the door. I made myself comfortable, balanced the pump on my lap and looked for a place to plug in. Unfortunately, there was no outlet. I used my backup battery pack, tried to ignore the decor and the fact that I was sitting next to a garbage can and finished pumping. Would it surprise you to find out that when I went to "disconnect" from the pump that some of the milk splattered and landed on my shirt? Ugh.
I decided after that, that I need to be a little bit more pro-active in my life. Do I want to find myself pumping on an open toilet in a stall or sliding low in the passenger seat of my car behind a dumpster? No. So I called my contact at the temp agency and she put me in touch with HR. They are letting me use a conference room with a lock on the door and an outlet, twice a day for my pumping routine. I am a little worried about the time when someone will knock on the door and I will have to answer them, but I am not quite willing to post a sign.
I want to make sure that I am consistent because at the end of the day, this milk is for my baby and that is more important then the locale of where I pump, or the minor embarrassment it might cause me, when I have to open the door and explain that I am connected to a mechanized pump and expressing milk!
I started my part-time/temp position on Tuesday with very mixed feelings and plenty of questions. Was I leaving the little Lady too soon? Was I relying too much on my mom for childcare? Was I throwing too many changes at the Lady? And more importantly, what would I wear and where would I pump?
I have been wearing yoga pants almost everyday for the past two years. Before that, I worked in a public county center with dirty old books that was frequented by the general public who may or may not have had questionable hygienic practices. I wore jeans and a hoodie most days.
The office I am working in is pretty casual, jeans can be worn everyday but lets just say the pre-preggo clothes aren't quite fitting and I am super tired of anything maternity. I really don't need to be wearing jeans that go from my boobs to my ankles--although it does cover the "before photo" that is my stomach!
My other problem is that I have no shirts to wear. I have what you might call a broad back, plus a little bit of a belly so tops are always an issue for me, but I had to make due so the first day back, I hiked up the full-body jeans, folded down the front panel and wore the shirt I had bought for "The View," you know, the one that kind of highlights my back fat. I slipped my feet into some ballet flats that hurt before I even left the house, packed my pump, grabbed my lunch and headed out the door (well actually my parent's door--my husband was out of town and it was easier just to stay there then worry about showering).
I tossed my Maybelline foundation in my bag to do a quick cover-up in the car, but it never quite made it on my face--it did however find its way to the front of my shirt. The bottle opened a little bit and smeared its way onto my wallet and apparently the bottom of my water bottle, which I leaned up against my shirt. Did you know that makeup doesn't really wash off? To add insult to injury I also opened my yogurt facing me and some splattered on my shirt. So there I was walking around the office searching for a place to pump with brown makeup stains and small dots of dried yogurt on my shirt.
Pumping at work is a foreign concept to me. Having no work to go to the first time around, I was unsure of how to approach the topic of finding an adequate place to pump. To make matters worse, I am only a temp at this office. I haven't even seen the entire floor, I don't know where there are offices vs. cubicles and I don't know who to ask to point me in the right direction. I had resigned myself to pump in the car!
After further review, I realized that they had a handicapped bathroom, separate from the regular bathrooms and it had a chair in it as well as a lock on the door. I made myself comfortable, balanced the pump on my lap and looked for a place to plug in. Unfortunately, there was no outlet. I used my backup battery pack, tried to ignore the decor and the fact that I was sitting next to a garbage can and finished pumping. Would it surprise you to find out that when I went to "disconnect" from the pump that some of the milk splattered and landed on my shirt? Ugh.
I decided after that, that I need to be a little bit more pro-active in my life. Do I want to find myself pumping on an open toilet in a stall or sliding low in the passenger seat of my car behind a dumpster? No. So I called my contact at the temp agency and she put me in touch with HR. They are letting me use a conference room with a lock on the door and an outlet, twice a day for my pumping routine. I am a little worried about the time when someone will knock on the door and I will have to answer them, but I am not quite willing to post a sign.
I want to make sure that I am consistent because at the end of the day, this milk is for my baby and that is more important then the locale of where I pump, or the minor embarrassment it might cause me, when I have to open the door and explain that I am connected to a mechanized pump and expressing milk!
Monday, September 28, 2009
The Lady Turns Two
Happy Birthday to the Lady!!! I cannot believe she is two.
She has been celebrating all weekend long and tonight we are hoping for an early bedtime!!
Birthday Wishes
Happy Belated Birthday to some September Ladies!
Just wanted to give a shout out to some little ladies with September b-day's.
Hope you had a great day, Bunny, The Littlest Lady from CNY, The Lady from the Beautiful Fountain and little miss Maryland!
Just wanted to give a shout out to some little ladies with September b-day's.
Hope you had a great day, Bunny, The Littlest Lady from CNY, The Lady from the Beautiful Fountain and little miss Maryland!
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
The Lady Wears No Pants
So the Lady has started refusing to wear pants and removing her diaper at nap and night time.
It all started last week, when we were trying to get out of the house to visit the Wild Man and his very sweet little sister.
The Lady absolutely refused to wear the shirt and pants I had for her, she cried, and repeatedly told me "No like it!"However, by some divine intervention she was totally open to wearing the sweatshirt I had for her as well as a pair of socks and her pink Converse All Stars.
So, we left the house in a sweatshirt, socks and sneakers and her diaper. I tried to convince her to put on pants when we got to Dunkin Donuts--this didn't work. I am sure you can picture me walking into Dunkies with the little Lady in the super heavy infant car seat, while the Lady held on to the side of it, wearing no pants. I briefly considered not going in, but lets face it, I have an addiction and had to feed the need.
Flash forward to nap time about 3 hours later. The Lady had fallen asleep in the car on the way home, I transported her into her crib, but she woke up. I left her in there for a while to talk it out with the hope that she would fall asleep. After 15 minutes, I went in to check on her and not only was she not sleeping, but she had removed her diaper and thrown it on the floor.
When I asked her why she did that she told me she just had "wee-wees." For a brief moment, I thought this might be a good thing, maybe she was taking the initiative in potty training and I could soon be only buying one size diapers. This thought was quickly dashed over the next few days, when I would go and check on her and she was diaperless. One day, she was totally naked doing the downward dog in her crib.
Coinciding with the diaper removal was the fact that the Lady got a brand new Dora the Explorer nightgown. She loves this nightgown and wants to wear it every night. The problem is that she is now not wearing pants at all to bed and there is no barrier--however minimal--to stop the diaper removal. So every night I have to check and recheck to make sure the diaper is still securely fastened to her very cute moon.
Last night, I heard her calling me and went in to check, all seemed well. I ignored her subsequent calls because it was time for bed--big mistake.
About a half-hour later I went in for the final check and stepped in something wet on the floor. I am not sure how actual pee got on the floor. The two scenarios I am running in my head are that she was standing up while she peed, or that when she flung off the diaper some leaked out.
My husband lifted her up, still sleeping, I changed the sheets and he put on a new diaper.
Before I left this morning, I reminded her that she had to wear pants today. I am hoping for the best but thinking of getting out the duct tape!
It all started last week, when we were trying to get out of the house to visit the Wild Man and his very sweet little sister.
The Lady absolutely refused to wear the shirt and pants I had for her, she cried, and repeatedly told me "No like it!"However, by some divine intervention she was totally open to wearing the sweatshirt I had for her as well as a pair of socks and her pink Converse All Stars.
So, we left the house in a sweatshirt, socks and sneakers and her diaper. I tried to convince her to put on pants when we got to Dunkin Donuts--this didn't work. I am sure you can picture me walking into Dunkies with the little Lady in the super heavy infant car seat, while the Lady held on to the side of it, wearing no pants. I briefly considered not going in, but lets face it, I have an addiction and had to feed the need.
Flash forward to nap time about 3 hours later. The Lady had fallen asleep in the car on the way home, I transported her into her crib, but she woke up. I left her in there for a while to talk it out with the hope that she would fall asleep. After 15 minutes, I went in to check on her and not only was she not sleeping, but she had removed her diaper and thrown it on the floor.
When I asked her why she did that she told me she just had "wee-wees." For a brief moment, I thought this might be a good thing, maybe she was taking the initiative in potty training and I could soon be only buying one size diapers. This thought was quickly dashed over the next few days, when I would go and check on her and she was diaperless. One day, she was totally naked doing the downward dog in her crib.
Coinciding with the diaper removal was the fact that the Lady got a brand new Dora the Explorer nightgown. She loves this nightgown and wants to wear it every night. The problem is that she is now not wearing pants at all to bed and there is no barrier--however minimal--to stop the diaper removal. So every night I have to check and recheck to make sure the diaper is still securely fastened to her very cute moon.
Last night, I heard her calling me and went in to check, all seemed well. I ignored her subsequent calls because it was time for bed--big mistake.
About a half-hour later I went in for the final check and stepped in something wet on the floor. I am not sure how actual pee got on the floor. The two scenarios I am running in my head are that she was standing up while she peed, or that when she flung off the diaper some leaked out.
My husband lifted her up, still sleeping, I changed the sheets and he put on a new diaper.
Before I left this morning, I reminded her that she had to wear pants today. I am hoping for the best but thinking of getting out the duct tape!
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Happy (Belated) Birthday to The Three Bean!
I just realized that I have been blogging since last September. Thanks to all of you who have come along for the ride--and mainly to those who have stuck around.
I am glad I can fill a small void in your day!
A lot has changed in the last year with the new baby and the new job (I started today), but there are also those things that have stayed the same. I am once again trying to better my bod, still battling the adult acne (although it is getting better and I haven't had to throw away any hand towels lately), and still trying to maneuver this ever changing enigma known as motherhood. I am also trying to find the time to write more, not only on this blog, but for publication. That is definitely one goal I am aiming for this year.
I don't have much time to post now--I probably shouldn't be blogging from work, but be on the lookout in the next day or so for some new posts, such as:
I Was Milked
Ugh, Work--Why Didn't I Bring a Stain Stick?--or--Am I Pumping in a Handicapped Bathroom?
and of course,
The Biggest Loser and Other Updates
Thanks for Reading!!!!
I am glad I can fill a small void in your day!
A lot has changed in the last year with the new baby and the new job (I started today), but there are also those things that have stayed the same. I am once again trying to better my bod, still battling the adult acne (although it is getting better and I haven't had to throw away any hand towels lately), and still trying to maneuver this ever changing enigma known as motherhood. I am also trying to find the time to write more, not only on this blog, but for publication. That is definitely one goal I am aiming for this year.
I don't have much time to post now--I probably shouldn't be blogging from work, but be on the lookout in the next day or so for some new posts, such as:
I Was Milked
Ugh, Work--Why Didn't I Bring a Stain Stick?--or--Am I Pumping in a Handicapped Bathroom?
and of course,
The Biggest Loser and Other Updates
Thanks for Reading!!!!
Friday, September 18, 2009
The Biggest Loser
Finally, I get around to blogging about the BL again. It took me three days to write the entry on the View, so I am going to try really hard to be up to date with my BL posts in the future. It is kind of hard though, when you are TiVoing, and can only catch up at like 11:30 at night.
Anyway, the Biggest Loser is back and this season is all about second chances. I don't have much to say about the first episode, only because it is the first episode and I haven't had time to pick my favorites and start routing for individuals and teams.
I will say that there are some seriously large people this season. I mean belly's were just hanging over the front of people's pants and it makes me feel a little bit better about the baby bulge I have working myself.
So everyone introduces themselves, everyone has a story about being fat and wanting to try to lose it so they can be around for their family. Then they get to Abby, and I am sobbing with my baby in my arms. I could not imagine losing, my husband and the two ladies and I don't want to even think about it for more than a few seconds!!! So, my post-pregnancy, hormonal, lack of sleep support is going to Abby for right now!
God, I love it at the beginning when the sweat is soaking through the shirts, there are collapses, surprises (Dan is back!), medical emergency's, crying, yelling, and then the big numbers on the scale.
Alexandra went home this week, and I hope the best for her. I definitely gained a ton of weight in college, but at least I could fit in the chairs! I couldn't imagine being twenty and weighing over two bills.
Not sure how they are going to work both Bob and Jillian training everyone. I am sure at some point they will split them up into teams. I like the idea of them just working with everyone, but I have a feeling the show won't allow that to happen for the entire season, there is just too much conflict to be had with opposing teams.
I myself am hoping to shape up along side these contestants. I am starting my food journal again and hopefully at my six week, post-baby visit I will get the go ahead to start training again for the Turkey Trot as well as a few other 5ks. We will see and I will keep you updated.
Anyway, the Biggest Loser is back and this season is all about second chances. I don't have much to say about the first episode, only because it is the first episode and I haven't had time to pick my favorites and start routing for individuals and teams.
I will say that there are some seriously large people this season. I mean belly's were just hanging over the front of people's pants and it makes me feel a little bit better about the baby bulge I have working myself.
So everyone introduces themselves, everyone has a story about being fat and wanting to try to lose it so they can be around for their family. Then they get to Abby, and I am sobbing with my baby in my arms. I could not imagine losing, my husband and the two ladies and I don't want to even think about it for more than a few seconds!!! So, my post-pregnancy, hormonal, lack of sleep support is going to Abby for right now!
God, I love it at the beginning when the sweat is soaking through the shirts, there are collapses, surprises (Dan is back!), medical emergency's, crying, yelling, and then the big numbers on the scale.
Alexandra went home this week, and I hope the best for her. I definitely gained a ton of weight in college, but at least I could fit in the chairs! I couldn't imagine being twenty and weighing over two bills.
Not sure how they are going to work both Bob and Jillian training everyone. I am sure at some point they will split them up into teams. I like the idea of them just working with everyone, but I have a feeling the show won't allow that to happen for the entire season, there is just too much conflict to be had with opposing teams.
I myself am hoping to shape up along side these contestants. I am starting my food journal again and hopefully at my six week, post-baby visit I will get the go ahead to start training again for the Turkey Trot as well as a few other 5ks. We will see and I will keep you updated.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Melt Down
I have been trying to find the time to post a new blog entry. I have two drafts sitting and waiting to go, but haven't had time to finish. I am going to just jump in with this one because I, like my pizza might just melt down.
Here is the run down:
The little Lady has been attached to my boob, every 30 minutes since 3:30 this afternoon and the Lady has been wearing her new Dora nightgown since around the same time when she stripped down and demanded it. At five thirty I thought it might be a good idea to start dinner so that the Lady could be fed. I defrosted pizza dough this afternoon, rolled it out on the silpat baking sheet.
The Lady was running around the kitchen with the flip video camera, asking me to replay the little video we had just made with her sister. I would have posted it here, but in the midst of her pressing any button she could, it got erased.
Anyway, so I am pressing play on the video camera, hoping the little Lady closes her eyes in the swing and dicing and chopping up veggies to add to the pizza as a healthy topping. We split the dough in the house and I make one personal size pizza for me and the Lady and my husband gets the other half. Oh, and I was waiting for my husband to get home, because he has a softball game at 6:15 and I know he has to get changed. Is is just wishful thinking on my part that he would actually get home a little early so I could get a hand, rather than waltzing through the door at five to six, changing his clothes and leaving?
It was after he left that I realized I had added all the toppings on top of the baking sheet and did not transfer it to the foil lined cookie sheet that we usually make the pizza on. The toppings are too heavy for me to lift the uncooked pizza and get it in the oven. Ugh.
The baby started to cry. I started to feed her, while researching online (and typing with one hand) if I can actually put the Silpat baking sheet in the oven. (I saw it done on Top Chef, so I was just looking for confirmation). Apparently they are fine in the oven up to temps of 485 degrees. My stove is set at 425--perfect. The little Lady had fallen asleep and I left her rocking quietly in the swing.
I transferred the pizza on the baking sheet into the oven. The sheet is a little big but it goes in. In the middle of this the Lady has climbed onto the chair and has tried to write with a pen on the computer screen. She is immediately reprimanded and escorted to the naughty stair. We might have dinner tonight--until. . .
The f'ing smoke alarm starts going off. The Lady bolts from the naughty stair and literally jumps into my arms. I have to put her down on the couch, remove the now smoking baking sheet from the oven--open the windows in order to vent the potentially toxic plastic smell coming from my oven and climb a stair or two to reset the alarms.
Ugh. I reassured the Lady that everything was all right. I reheated the mac and cheese she had for lunch and put her in her seat. I made a very futile attempt to remove all the toppings from the pizza and start over, but was left with a tomato stained yeasty mess that is now in my garbage can.
I am eyeing the left over dough I have for my husband, but am resigning myself to yet another dinner of Honey Nut Cheerios.
Oh, did I mention that the little Lady slept through the entire episode? I guess I should be grateful for that!
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
The View from the Second Row
My best friend got tickets to The View on Tuesday. Now, I am not a huge View fan, mostly because I can't stand listening to everyone talk over each other and can't bear the pitch of all those voices when things get heated.
Yvette from Community
Sheri from the View
Guy from All My Children
When I was asked to go, I said absolutely. I mean, not only would I get a few hours to spend time with my best friend but I wouldn't have someone hanging off my boob or asking me what I was doing every thirty seconds. So off to NYC we went. We got there at about ten to nine, had to wait online for almost an hour before they let us into the building and then stand in the lobby for another forty minutes, while an Intern yelled at us like we were second graders and this was the first week of school.
The buzz was that Taylor Swift was going to be a guest and perform. This was perfect timing after the entire debacle at the VMA's with Kanye West. I figured those View women would ask the hard-hitting questions and Taylor would have a chance to share her side. In fact, ABC radio was interviewing people on line behind us for their radio show and I was amused to hear a fiftyish woman refer to Kanye as an "arrogant asshole." I am pretty sure they would have had to bleep that out, but I thought it was funny.
Okay, so we take the elevator up (fifteen at a time) and walk down the hallway. One way is the View the other is All My Children. We were close to the end of the line, so the studio was pretty full when we walked in, but the girl seating us noticed we were a group of two and asked us if we wanted to sit in the second row! We of course said yes, even though there was a camera set up in front of one of the seats and we were going to have to go stand in the back when Taylor Swift performed due to "equipment placement."
We struck up a conversation with the very young, very cute guy sitting next to us. I asked him, what he was doing at a taping of the View, he informed us that his girlfriend was Taylor Swift's back-up singer, so immediately we grilled him on the VMA event. He said that Taylor was upset and that her mom was very upset, and that the whole thing with Beyonce at the end was obviously planned. He also said about a hundred times what a sweet girl Taylor is. Talk about an inside scoop, I mean come on--give me something juicy!
So the comedian comes out to warm up the crowd, and try to get us to cheer as long and loud as we could. I am not a big clapper and I am also not a big cheerer. It feels awkward and I was unsure why I should be whooping it up for Whoopi, but since we were in the second row, I tried to at least feign enthusiasm. I will say I was also going on about 4 hours of interrupted sleep!
So the comedian comes out to warm up the crowd, and try to get us to cheer as long and loud as we could. I am not a big clapper and I am also not a big cheerer. It feels awkward and I was unsure why I should be whooping it up for Whoopi, but since we were in the second row, I tried to at least feign enthusiasm. I will say I was also going on about 4 hours of interrupted sleep!
There was another celeb sighting in the crowd and by sighting, I mean sitting right in front of us. This lady from like a thousand commercials and NBC's new show Community was there.
Yvette from Community Sheri from the ViewApparently she is like really good friends with Sheri and the two often get mistaken for each other. Speaking of Sheri, she was the best part of the show. During the commercial breaks the ladies let you ask them questions and she was the most outgoing and entertaining of all of them.
During the pre-show warm up we were able to see the crowd on the flat screens in the studio, I will say the only thing worse then seeing yourself in a brand new shirt that you purchased at 8:45 pm the night before, exposing your back fat, is having to get measured for a bridesmaid dress 5 days after you gave birth. (True story--I wouldn't recommend it!)
Finally, the show. Did I mention that Kate Gosslin was a guest host? Ohh, I did not clap for her, even though her husband is a huge d-bag, I still think she is a major bitch and that she is exploiting her kids. I will say that she is super skinny, but her hair is a Science project. Barbara is also really thin and you can see that she has had work done.
I will say that Whoopi seemed sad due to the death of Swayze, Joy seemed a little off that day, Barbara couldn't hear any of the questions you asked her, and when Kate answered a question about her shoes, I wanted to throw up, but Sheri was standing like right in front of me and was very funny.
Dr. Phil was the first guest and he was kind of boring, plus the entire time I could only think about the Sesame Street episode with him in it, which I couldn't find on You Tube, but that is probably a good thing or you would be going around all day going "Dr. Phil, Dr. Feel." They also asked him Jon and Kate questions and I was unimpressed!
Then Taylor came out and can I say skinny! Oh, my god the girl is skeletal, but very gracious, very cute and her explanation of the whole Kanye shenanigans was very endearing.
Once the interview was over and they cut to commercial, we were escorted to the back of the studio to watch the performance. I was a little peeved to see that the "equipment" we were moved for was the lady from Community and her friend, who moved into our seats! Oh well, we saw a good performance, were able to leave the studio first and got a free copy of Taylor's cd.
On the way out we saw some guy from All My Children, who was also on Dancing With the Stars,
Guy from All My Childrenhad a quick lunch, I pumped in the car on the ride home and when I got there was able to take a nap when both of the girls were sleeping. All and all a good day.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Welcome! Welcome!
TV Time
When the Lady was first born, my husband and I spent the first two weeks of her life watching Prime Time in the Daytime on TNT. This was a daily dose of ER, Las Vegas and Without a Trace.
This time around, I am watching more baby shows so that I can distract the Lady while I shove my boob yet again into the little Lady's mouth. (Still can't think of a nickname for her yet--but I am working on it! My husband calls her a monkey cat, because she is a little bit monkey and makes little mewing sounds like a cat.)
This means that in the last few weeks, I have probably seen every episode of Dora the Explorer about three times. It also means that the Lady is now trying to open things by saying abres. I am also waking up for middle of the night feedings singing "Al rescate amigos. To the rescue my friends" from Go, Diego Go.
Needless to say, I am looking forward to some new programming coming this fall. If you aren't already watching both Top Chef and Project Runway have started their new seasons. The Biggest Loser starts up again on September 15th and I for one am super psyched. Dan from the orange team is back from last season. He has lost a lot of weight but still weighs about 3 bills. So You Think You Can Dance is coming back and you all know I will be watching Bones. I am going to have to really pay attention to scheduling. I think we might need an additional DVR to record everything, especially since I have two kids and don't actually have much time to watch anything live.
I will say that the other day I caught a marathon of "Dance Your Ass Off" on Oxygen. A combination weight loss, dance program that was both hilarious and painfully awkward. I don't think this is a show I would actively watch but when you come across a train wreck, it is hard to look away.
This time around, I am watching more baby shows so that I can distract the Lady while I shove my boob yet again into the little Lady's mouth. (Still can't think of a nickname for her yet--but I am working on it! My husband calls her a monkey cat, because she is a little bit monkey and makes little mewing sounds like a cat.)
This means that in the last few weeks, I have probably seen every episode of Dora the Explorer about three times. It also means that the Lady is now trying to open things by saying abres. I am also waking up for middle of the night feedings singing "Al rescate amigos. To the rescue my friends" from Go, Diego Go.
Needless to say, I am looking forward to some new programming coming this fall. If you aren't already watching both Top Chef and Project Runway have started their new seasons. The Biggest Loser starts up again on September 15th and I for one am super psyched. Dan from the orange team is back from last season. He has lost a lot of weight but still weighs about 3 bills. So You Think You Can Dance is coming back and you all know I will be watching Bones. I am going to have to really pay attention to scheduling. I think we might need an additional DVR to record everything, especially since I have two kids and don't actually have much time to watch anything live.
I will say that the other day I caught a marathon of "Dance Your Ass Off" on Oxygen. A combination weight loss, dance program that was both hilarious and painfully awkward. I don't think this is a show I would actively watch but when you come across a train wreck, it is hard to look away.
Power Blogging
I am trying to power blog today because I haven't posted anything in weeks. Stay tuned for new posts.
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