Blood red fingernails are such a confidence booster.

Okay, am I the only person that watches DWTS that is wondering what the fuck was going through their minds when they selected the music numbers for the couples to dance to? Are they making some crazy attempt to draw in a younger crowd?

Don't get me wrong, I adored Kirstie's Cha Cha Cha to Cee Lo's 'Forget You', but some of the songs are so unsuited to the dance style. A Foxtrot to 'Cooler Than Me'? What the hell is that?

And I thought the rumors were exaggerated; what the fuck is up with Brooke Burke? She seriously does look like a damned robot. The personality chip joke is getting a little overdone, but holds true. Sometimes the old ones are the best. Where is Samantha? Tell her to stop incubating crotch monkeys and come back to the show! She and Tom had wonderful chemistry; Brooke and Tom, not so much. Or, hell, just give the damn show to Tom! He's larger than life anyhow, and entertaining as fuck.

Erflet will probably kill me for telling this story one day (or, if I raise him right, be laughing his ass off at it), but I have to. It's one of those parenting moments that makes you realize just how resourceful one can become at 5:30 in the morning.

Yesterday at Erf's dad's, he apparently had an accident and pooped his pants. I didn't get details, just a tied up plastic bag of shit-covered clothes. This morning around 4:30 I hear the bathroom light turn on and a few minutes later I hear Erflet crying and saying, "Mama, I went potty in my pants!"

I figure no big deal, he just didn't make it to the potty in time. I go in to evaluate the damage and he tells me he pooped his pants. Oookay. No, he didn't really poop his pants.

He sharted them. For those of you unfamiliar with this term, it's when you fart and end up crapping instead. Shit + fart = shart.

So I clean up my son's shart-covered butt, get him into clean underwear, and ask him if he thought he was farting but pooped instead.

I get the cry-speak hybrid response, "ye-e-e-es..."

I tell him if he feels like he's going to fart again to come sit on the potty, just in case. We clamber back to bed and all seems to be fine. Until 5:30 when I hear the cry-speak, "Moooom, I pooped my pants again!" from the bathroom. Bloody hell.

Yep, another shart. I clean him up and am fumbling with what to do... I'm running out of clean underwear as Erf and I split up all his clothes after the move. I don't want to have to change him again if I can avoid it. So I made what I hope was a good decision, albeit unnecessary.

I lined my son's underwear with a panty liner.

What? Stop looking at your computer screen like that. Yes, I really did. I figured if he sharted again the panty liner would catch it and I could change that instead of his underwear.

Turns out it wasn't necessary as he went the rest of the night without sharting. (I love the phrase 'shart' if you can't tell) However, if the punishment of making me clean up crap wasn't enough, today he has had the NASTIEST silent but deadly farts.

I asked Erf what the fuck he ate yesterday. Pizza and cereal. I'm wondering if Erf's dad's habit of giving him regular milk is what has caused my past 12 hours to be full of shit.

Last night I got a bug up my ass to paint my nails. I'm a sparkly-loving girly girl who adores glitter and crystals and rhinestones and pretty much anything ostentatious, but I don't paint my nails on a regular basis. Actually, anything more than once every six months to a year is frequent for me. Last time I remember painting my nails was a month or so after I started working at Eyemart in May of last year. I was going to go for a nice pearly mauve (which is totally in my color wheel), but decided that in order to boost my confidence I'd go with blood red. It's actually called 'crimson creme', but blood red just sounds sassier.

Plus I'm going to a drag show Saturday night and I thought matching red lips and nails, paired with my dark hair, would look stunning. Not like I've really got anyone to impress at a gay bar, but one does want to look her best, yes?

As a result, I feel sassy and sexy and confident. I love how much something as simple as bold nail polish or lipstick can change your attitude. We girls are complex creatures.

There is nothing that sucks more than feeling useless.

Especially when you're a parent who feels useless.

You kittens might be wondering what I'm feeling useless about...

After the last few nights (and a few nights a week during the past month) of Erflet waking up screaming, shaking, and inconsolable - I did what any parent would do. I Bing'd it.

Night terrors, that is.

Like the good mother of a newborn I was, I read the What To Expect books. The pregnancy one, the first year one, and the toddler years one. Back when I had time to read a book and it wasn't a few pages here and there while I was on the commode.

By the way, Erflet thinks it's hilarious to come into the bathroom while I'm laying a deuce and mock me by saying, "Can't I poop in peace?" He's his mother's son.

Anywho, there was a mention of night terrors - to which I paid ZERO attention, obviously. Mommy fail. Some part of my post-partum frazzled baby spitup coated brain must have stored it, though, because I remembered what they were called long enough to type it into the browser.

Kidshealth.org describes night terrors thus:

"Night terrors typically occur about 2 or 3 hours after a child falls asleep, when sleep transitions from the deepest stage of non-REM sleep to lighter REM sleep, a stage where dreams occur. Usually this transition is a smooth one. But rarely, a child becomes agitated and frightened - and that fear reaction is a night terror.

During a night terror, a child might suddenly sit upright in bed and shout out or scream in distress. The child's breathing and heartbeat may be faster, he or she might sweat, thrash around, and act upset and scared. After a few minutes, or sometimes longer, a child simply calms down and returns to sleep."

Holy balls, have these bastards been watching in my windows? This has been happening for the last month (also, yay for mommy guilt, because these began occurring around the same time we moved and so now I feel responsible)(fuck. me.) at least a few times a week and has happened the last three nights in a row.

And there's nothing I can do - he has to 'outgrow' them. My little sister apparently got to the point of running out of the house and punching and kicking people during her night terrors. Great. And, a child has an 80% higher chance of experiencing night terrors if a family member has had them!

On a brighter note, Erf, Erflet and I are going to go hiking again tomorrow. Between working on my feet, not eating as much as I used to, and hiking/walking/swimming, I'm beginning to lose some weight. I say that as I sit here eating half a pint of Ben and Jerry's Mud Pie ice cream.

You know what would be awesome? If I were a size 14 again. I was at my ideal weight when I was a size 14, because I'M SIX FUCKING FEET TALL. Yes, I am tall enough to enter America's Top Model, but I will never do that because I would be so tempted to bring in baked goods and get the skinny stick figures with poufy lips all fat and then I'd get kicked out of ATM and I'd laugh and tell my grandchildren the epic story someday.

Also, then I could wear those adorable jeans I've been holding onto for the last 6 years because my big lard ass can't fit into them anymore but I don't want to get rid of them in the hopes that I'll fit into them again someday.

You have those jeans too, don't lie.

Holy fracking sassafrass. Did I spell sassafrass correctly?

So much shit has been happening, kittens. I scarcely know where to begin.

I had to chide myself this evening when I was IMing with everyone's one and only Aunt Becky, and she had no idea that I had moved.

I fucking suck as a blogger lately. I blame it on a.) an insane work schedule, b.) lack of constant and steady streaming Intarwebz and c.) me just being a lazy bitch.

So, a few weeks ago, Erf, Erflet and I packed up our shit and moved out of our three bedroom apartment in Souptown and moved into a three bedroom house in Dull-uth. The reason sucked. Because of Erf and I losing our jobs last November and my obstinately pig-headed insistence to make my old job work (when obvs, I'm NOT a high-pressure salesperson), we had gone into arrears on our rent. We did get things paid up, but alas started to fall behind again. Not by much, we were paying what we could and would usually end up current within a month. My job only pays me $8.50 an hour, and my ex-coworker - who didn't give a shit if he broke lenses, thereby affecting our breakage 'bonus' pay - really screwed Sam (the lab manager) and I out of money.

Our lease was up at the end of June, and our landlady chose not to renew it. Which, dudes? I totally understand. I would've done the same damn thing. But moving? It sucked. I especially felt terrible moving Erflet AGAIN, when we had just moved into that apartment a year prior. Luckily, he's a hardy little fella, and he loves the new house. We're house sitting for my mom's friend; her mother passed away in May and this was her house. Mom's friend has her own house, and owns this one free and clear. So she needed someone to occupy it. :)

So here we are, and our new place is literally right across the street from McDonald's. And smelling frenchiddy fries from your front yard? IS OF DE DEBBIL. I've managed to abstain thus far, but my tenuous hold on self control can only be greased by spontaneous french fries for so long.

Seriously, do they put crack in the McNuggets and fries? Am I the only one who feels that way?

We also are going to be adopting two adorable dogs; we're fostering them until the shelter's vet has an opening to get them fixed. Then the adoption will become permanent. Kittens, meet Mr. Bill:

And Miss Mya:
Bill is a huge 71 lb ball of lovable kisses and energy, and is a black lab mix... We think he might be mixed with American Staffordshire or something similar, as his ears are docked and his tail is not, as well as the shape of his head and legs. He is Erf's dog, through and through.

Mya is a 9.8 lb ball of snuggles and kisses, and is a Chihuahua mix. I always said I'd never have a fucking chihuahua, because they're all Paris Hilton-y purse dogs. But Mya must be mixed with a terrier of some sort, because she is lap-size and very healthy. And seriously, dudes? I fell in love with her immediately, and she with me. She loves snuggling with me, and sleeps behind my knees every night, and adores car rides where she's on my lap with her head resting in the crook of my elbow. She's got a beautiful brindle coat, too - except for the three white toes on her back left paw. She's quirky, like me.

So that's really about everything up til now, I'd update a little more frequently but I'm leeching Intarwebz from McD's (retribution for the french fry stench) and I don't always have connection to the internet. I'm hoping to get a USB network adapter to boost my signal reception, but the one I want is like $55... Bleh. I need to check Craigslist, note to self....

*off like a prom dress to search Craigslist*

Sugar-coated marshmallow fluffy bits of goodness. And I'm not just talking about last night...

Don't you absolutely hate it when you have a topic to blog about, and then forget what it was once you're at your computer?

That elated feeling of "Oh my gosh, I actually have a really good topic to talk about!" and then the letdown of, "what the fuck was I going to blog about again?"

I've even tried reminding myself via Twitter. I remembered the topic, just not what I was going to say.

As my friend Ooh Law Law would say, "Eff it, give me Doritos."

Speaking of shout outs, I have a long overdue one... But better late than never, yes?

My best friend Dana's mom started a new blog about her new wine club called Wine Timers, where she and some close wine-loving pals get together once a month to try new wines, socialize, and just have some fun! She was kind enough to feature a post about my Chocolate Red Wine Cupcakes, because, DUH. They're chocolate cupcakes with RED WINE IN THEM AND THEY WERE DELICIOUS. So go check out Wine Timers, and perhaps it'll inspire you to begin your own wine-tasting club!

Yesterday I went over to my friend Julie's house... And together with our friend Becca, we were supposed to teach Julie how to bake pies. However, Julie is a wee bit overzealous, and decided making ten pies was a good idea. Ha, yeah. Not so much... There wasn't so much 'teaching' as 'hurrying the fuck up so we weren't baking till 10 pm' going on. We made two french apple pies, two french silk pies, two strawberry cheesecakes, a lemon meringue pie (that turned to fucking soup because the filling didn't firm up), a strawberry rhubarb pie and a banana cream pie. Yeah, I know! I'm crazy tired today, and I still have to clean the kitchen and begin doing crap for tonight's Easter dinner.

Fuck that ham shit, we're making turkey burgers. I hate anything with veins of fat, so I avoid ham. Because, obviously. I'm also making homemade macaroni and cheese (which I have been CRAVING) and corn. And possibly brownies. Because brownies rule. And I may as well stick to the whole comfort food theme. I was going to try making beingets, which are a New Orleans dessert. But they just sounded too mothercocking complicated.

And after spending 8-9 hours baking my fucking ass off yesterday, I am so not in the mood for complicated. I'll be lucky if I get off my ass and take out the trash and wash the damned dishes. Ha. But I kinda have to because my parents are coming over.

Erflet had a good Easter morning, he got two baskets... Was on a sugar high when my BFF Dana came to visit. Good thing he's cute. :) He kind of wore himself out at the grocery store running about, I think. That and the fact that he spent all day yesterday on Julie's son's trampoline. :)

Erf is going back to school tomorrow after having two weeks off for spring break. He's kind of nervous as he's got more classes this semester along with a math course. We both suck at math. He had fun at Julie's yesterday, too... He actually came out of his shell, I was so proud!

I'm going back to running shows tomorrow... Out of the marketing room, back to the real money-making.

I'm so way too tired for dishes and more cleaning. But my kitchen is nasty. So much for a day of relaxation before I get back into the grind. *headdesk*

Whoa, I'm not dead! Who knew?

So, my job has given me some very awesomely interesting stories.

Sadly, my phone's internet is being douchey and keeps telling me I need to cancel just this one thing and then I can update. I kid you not, I had an update that took me an hour to type on my tiny, gummy keys, and I lost the whole mothercocking thing because of some stupid thing on Blogger's mobile updater and my phone's clipboard not being large enough to copy the whole post.

See how much I missed you, kittens? MY UPDATE WAS TOO LARGE FOR MY CLIPBOARD TO HANDLE.

Or it could have been that I had like 5 bazjillion photos on there that needed to be synched and deleted.

So, holy shit. My new job is blogging motherfucking gold. I have SO many interesting stories I could tell you kittens, and for now I'll bullet them. Why?

Because I have to go grocery shopping for ingredients for Pollo Fundido, that's why. Why can't I stay and type them all out and THEN go shopping?

Because, hopefully, my BFF will be coming over to visit!

** #1 most entertaining: The fat guy who farted and picked his nose in front of us, and had porn in his bedroom. And asked me if I was 'into clients'.

** The older, lonely guy who told my co-worker and I that he wanted us to spend the night any time we were down in the area, and he said he'd feed us and 'leave us alone', and we'd be 'perfectly safe'. Oh, yeah. And he wanted to give us each full-body massages. At least he fed us venison jerky and sent us home with canned venison. eye roll

** The guy who made ionic purifiers for a living and kicked us out because we told him ozone is bad for you. Ironically, his wife actually liked the Defender.

** The nice lady whose boyfriend came home drunk and was pissed that I was still at the house... She politely packed everything up and helped me carry it out to my car because she 'didn't want me to have to make two trips'.

Seriously, this job is hilarious and provides me with entertainment almost every day.

Other updates as of late:

Erf is now going to school to be a medical assistant. I'm so insanely proud of him for this, he's been wanting to go back to school for some time now. I've had tons of fun helping him study his medical terms, and I can't look at the word 'rrhea' without collapsing into a fit of giggles.

I'm also looking forward to slowly learning how to decode the medical speak on Grey's Anatomy and Private Practice. I used to be proud of knowing what an appendectomy was. I'll show them.

Erflet is getting tall and sassy. The other day he was begging me to watch Cars... "Mama, can I watch Cars on the big teebee?" Over. And over. And over again. I, being the ultimate smartass, replied, "How about I gouge my eyes out with a sewing needle?"

He replies, "How about after?"

That's my boy. :)

New Halloween Photos!

My grandpa got them off of his camera and sent them to me...

My little ass-whupping ninja! It came with a matching blue headband, but Erflet has a gigormous melon head and it was too tight. Doesn't he look too cute?!

And a better shot of my makeup - the flash really brings out the bruising, doesn't it? It also accentuates my red-rimmed eyes. God, I'm good.

Yes, I'm wearing glo-sticks as a necklace. Don't judge.

It's the witching hour. Perhaps I should buy some holy water...

Okay, so technically Halloween is tomorrow. Whatever.

This year's costume is gonna be pretty cool, but I think last year's costumes were the best...

We dressed up as the Scooby Doo Gang, minus Shaggy and Velma.

Because it's Friday and I feel like keeping shit simple due to my forget-my-crotch-if-I-didn't-have-it-permanently-attached-to-my-handbody mentality, here are our costumes from last year!

Scooby Doo! Is this not the cutest costume?! It cost me like $40 on Ebay, but it was totally worth it.

Schmexy Daphne Blake - We did a sort of 'updated' version instead of the traditional Fred and Daph. Because I couldn't find a Daph dress I liked...

Erf, however, looked fantastic in stressed vintage jeans, his blue/white shirt, polo and the handmade red/orange ascot. No lie, I sewed it by hand the night before and I used my flatiron to iron it flat. Ghetto rig, FTW! Also, I love him bleach blonde.

The Scooby Gang - I thought it was a cute effect.

This year Erflet is going to be a ninja, and I'm going to be his victim. I do well with makeup effects - black eyes, split lips, cuts and bruises, here I come! Well, tomorrow anyhow. We're going to our niece's birthday party. Me dressing up as having had the shit kicked out of me at a kid's party = win, don't you agree?

Because our boss says that for Halloween I could only dress up as a receptionist. We are a law office, after all. Even if we're going out to have a long drinking lunch fairly soon. ;)

To my darling baby boy, Erflet...

Born in February of 2006, you are the piece of heart I never knew I was missing until you found me. I wasn't looking for you, but you found me anyhow.

Your father and I got the official news on June 20th, 2005. You certainly surprised us...

Rolling around to late 2005, your arrival was drawing nearer and nearer. Everyone kept telling me that once you were here, I would no longer have a life of my own. They were wrong, yet oh so right at the same time. I can still go out and do things, but you own my life. My heart is within you, walking around outside my body. I never knew how complete you would make me feel.

Daddy was away a lot after you were first born, and we stuck together through it. It was you and I for some time, and we developed a bond that I don't think could ever be broken. You're my little Gorgeous (regardless of how much grandma hates that nickname), and my sidekick.

You look like your father, but there is so much of me wrapped up in you. Your personality is almost a perfect reflection of mine, all the way down to the smart-ass remarks. I recall how much it annoyed my grandma when she was raising me, so I at least know what I'm getting into as you get older. ;)

And you're such a little love... You're almost four, and you still give random hugs and kisses for no reason. You love to cuddle with Daddy and I, and you're so affectionate. You can't go to bed without a lot of hugs and kisses, or let us drop you off at daycare without the same. When I put you to bed and sit next to you stroking your face and hair, I can feel that absolute love and trust that you have in me.

And baby boy, I promise to do everything in my power to keep earning that every day.

There are times when we're watching a movie, and you'll reach over and stroke my hair or my arm, or you'll simply put your hand in mine. I just want to hug you to me and hold you forever.

And the times you tell me you love me without me telling you first make my heart fly.

There are times when you'll wake up early from your nap and we'll lay on the couch, you sprawled out on top of me with your head resting atop my heart... And you'll fall asleep listening to Mama's heartbeat. If I could bottle up those sweet baby breaths to cherish later, when you get older and you're too cool for your Mama, I would. I hope that you'll never stop your random hugs, even if you do have to wait until no one else is around.

I hope I'll be a great Mama to you in years to come, because you've been the best son I could have ever thought to ask for. I will always love you no matter what the future holds. As Daddy always describes his relationship with his mama, there are unbreakable golden chains binding us.

And when you get older, get married, and have your own babies, know that when I hold my first grandchild I'll close my eyes and remember your sweet baby breaths on my neck as you slept.

Know that every time I look at you, I have no doubt that every moment of morning sickness, every second of labor, every sleepless night, every spit-up-on shirt, was worth it. I would do it all over again in a heartbeat. Know that when and if you ever get a baby brother or sister, you'll always have a special place in my heart as my firstborn. Daddy and I have had some hard times, and your love for the both of us helped us to remember the love we had for one another. You've made us all stronger in our love, and you're completely irresistible.

To put it in so many and so few words, I love you baby boy... I always will.

Because I'm sure most of you are just dying for this...

I realized that as much as I bitch about how Erflet looks nothing like me, I've never provided you all with photographic proof of said claims.

How terrible of me. *slaps self mockingly* Bad llama.

So, here it is: photographic proof that we look almost nothing alike.

Yeah, check out my giant Jew-schnoz. Ohhh yeah. Bom bom, chick, chicka-chicka.

However, there's no denying he's got one obvious feature of mine. Can you guess?

Yes, he's dressed up as Batman. This was Halloween 2007. I was dressed up as Bahamas Barbie.

Don't pretend you're not m'er-effing jealous. My costume rocked, because I bought the outfit in the Bahamas back in 2003. It says Bahamas all over it.

By the way; the baby blues? He's 5th generation. I, my dad, my grandma, and my great-grandpa all had the baby blues. Can you tell it's a dominant gene in my family? My sister, Katie, has them as well; but hers are pure blue. Erflet and I have flecks of hazel in ours.

See? Okay, so the flash brings out the white flecks more than the hazel. Look above the pupil. :)

Seriously, this is one of my all-time favorite pics of myself.

I'm so self-absorbed.