judge not

I've been on kind of a roller coaster the last few weeks, but one thing that has been on my mind is judgement. I never thought I judged anyone more than the next person does, but the more I think on it, the more I realize how judgemental I have been. I read this article a few weeks ago (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/kara-gebhart-uhl/mom-judgments_b_1319775.html), which is funny, but it opened my eyes a little! I hope I don't offend anyone. Let me share some of my version:

Girl with a tattoo and pink stripe of hair at church: I judged you. In my mind you were a little shit. Probably slutty. You definitely had no place being at church. I spent half of sacrament meeting thinking about you and how many stupid things you've probably done and how you probably won't get anything out of the talk being given because you probably have a bad attitude. Fast forward 10 years: Did I notice she came alone to church because her dad left her when she was 4 and her mom was a deadbeat at home? How awesome is it that you had the courage to come by yourself! Did I get anything out of that sacrament talk because I was too busy being incredibly judgemental?? Who I am to label her as a slut? A little shit? I have NO CLUE what is going on in her life.

Sister who lets her kids have treats: I judged you. I thought to myself I'd never let my kids have that much sugar (I know, funny, right? Coming from a fattie). I thought my kids will have a balanced diet and only get treats sparingly. Fast forward to post-Max. Good hell, whatever they will eat is fine. Currently I'm going on day 2 of Max refusing to eat anything but M&M's. I don't even know where he is getting them. I'm doing the best I can, and I'm sure she was too.

This one is hard. Mom at Target during the day, full hair and nails done, perfect tiny body and cute clothes: I judged you. You must be a rich snob. Obviously you don't have a job - you spend your time tanning and shopping and at the gym. You have no idea how hard life is because you have an easy life. I haven't had a lot of real life experience with this, and these people who appear this way still semi piss me off, but lets just say I got to know one of them. Maybe she has an eating disorder. She struggles to keep weight on. She never goes to the gym because she feels dumb because she is so skinny. She suffers from depression. She doesn't tan, her skin turns golden while she is playing with her kids outside. She tries to go in the sun often to help her mood. Maybe she is in debt, like everyone else, but her husband is working hard and she has no other options but to stay home and raise her kids. She goes to Target during the day for something to do. She has to stay home with the kids, but it is hard for her, so she tries to get out, and often she lands at a shopping center, mostly to browse and have a change of scenery. Who the hell am I to judge her?

Nerd in high school: I judged you. You talk funny and you don't have clear skin. You don't play any sports, you aren't smart, you aren't cute. I wasn't going to give you the time of day. You probably use drugs. I bet you don't shower everyday. You always eat school lunch. You don't take the bus or drive, you walk. You do janitorial work after school. You wear cheap pants and ill-fitting shirts. Fast forward to now:  This kid has tourettes, which makes him a huge outcast. People, especially high school people, don't understand tourettes, they think it is a funny thing where the person swears a lot. Little do they know he has no control over it. The ticks actually hurt they become so forceful. He would love to play sports, but doesn't have the money to. Plus, he likes other things. Things that aren't "cool". His parents are divorced and he doesn't have enough money to go out to lunch every day or to buy a car. He is working his ass off everyday after school to earn money to help his family buy freaking groceries.

Co-worker who isn't LDS: I judged you. I don't even know why. You drink coffee. You wear tank tops and you have a beer on the weekend. Why, WHY does this matter? It doesn't. You are a phenomenal worker. You are a fantastic mom and you are sweet as can be. I probably drink more caffeine than you in my DP. You are honest and all the patients love you when they come in. So why does it matter that you have a beer? Or a tat? It doesn't.  

Bad things happen to good people. Everyone is good, if even just a little. Drugs happen. Addiction happens. People make mistakes. Not everyone is the same as you. People have different work ethics. People didn't grow up the way you did. They do things different. Things happen. That is LIFE. Who the hell are we to pass judgement? 

My new goal is to just assume everyone is doing their best.

owls + things about us

I like owls. Cutesy owls. Cartoon owls on onsies. Real ones are ok too, but I'm not very fond of birds in general.

But I do like owls and I'll tell you why.

#1. Max looks like an Owl.
#2. Owls are one of the very few bird species where the female is bigger, more colorful and more aggressive than the males.  I say damn strait to that.
#3. Owls are associated with wisdom. In fact, a group of owls is called a parliament, study or wisdom  (I like to learn what groups of animals are called).
My personal theory their silent nature? People tend to think you are smart until you open your mouth and start talking....
But, I want to work on listening more and talking less. I want to be wiser.

Also, I like  Big Fat Tacos from Del Taco. I really hate saying "Big Fat Chicken Taco" when I order. I feel like a cow.

A few things about us (haven't done this in a while):

Benj:
-He is studying criminal justice. He can't get enough CIA, SWAT, SEALS, guns, assasinate, stealth, sneak up on a bad guy and blow his ass up, stuff. His dream would be to be in a bullet-proof vest, draped in a gilly suit with whatever gun is the coolest (I don't know...) on a hilltop and snipe bad guys for the rest of his life.
-He likes cheesecake.
-He likes long baths.
-He hates toothpaste remnants in the sink.
-He is a good daddy and Max loves him to death.
-His sleeping meds KNOCK HIM OUT. Like annoyingly. If I ever had to go to the hospital in the middle of the night, I'd be driving myself. {insert: I have had to do that before when I was preg and it pissed me off.}

Max:
-He has 3 horrible cowlicks. Back middle, back lower right side, front right side.
-He likes to cross his feet (see previous post).
-He has crappy skin. EXZEMA city.
-He has had like 30 natural poops since he was born. The rest have been suppository/laxitive induced.
-He loves to watch movies, but is loving to read lately.
-He freaking likes the park, especially the slide.
-He is mechanical. He likes to fit things together, line them up, play with screwdrivers.
-He is getting an attitude.
-He loves other kids. Especially his cousin Anna.

Me:
-I've had a cough for a good month. I pee my pants frequently. Daily.
-I've recently discovered Pandora. It's ok.
-I play on my phone too much (Draw Something, anyone?)
-I like making people laugh.
-I've completely given up trying to be a skinny blonde. I'm a fat brunette.
-I HATE, HATE my apartment. Even Max screams "NO" when we come around the corner to come home. Want. Out. Now.
-My job has been stressful lately.
-Good lighting is essential to my mental health. I found out the lamp in my front room works last night and I already feel happier. I love good lighting. Like almost going to cancel my therapy appointment about it.
-I'm completely addicted to Pinterest.
-I just went through the process of finding a new babysitter for Max (thanks LIZ!!) and it stressed me out bad. I just coughed, peed, cried, and made phone calls for like a week. But we are all good now.

What we've been up to

My sweet funny grandma Gloria passed away in Feb.

Caught Max in some cute sleeping positions....

Max got a new slide

He's been LOVING the warm weather so we can go to the park!!

He likes to cross his feet. Hehe

We went to Shakey's Pizza yesterday and he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. He literally sat and played on that car game (which wasn't even working) for like 40 minutes straight.

We watched Nemo for the first time. He got excited seeing the real fish @ the pet store last night!

Max and Anna - they love each other!

first world problems

Some of you may have seen these before, but I am reposting because I think it is funny, and kind of eye-opening.

FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS:

• My hand is too fat to shove into the Pringles container so I am forced to tilt it.
• I had too much for lunch am now I am tired.
• I forgot to bring my phone with me when I went to poop and I was bored the whole time.
• I'm kind of hungry, but my roomate has guests over, so if I go into the kithcen I am going to have to introduce myself.
• I have to find my own girlfriend because my cultrure doesn't practice arranged marriages.
• I accidentally clicked on iTunes and had to wait 2 minutes for it to open before I could close it.
• My GPS made me drive through the ghetto.
• I'm trying to text at the red lights but I keep hitting all the green lights.
• I can't hear the TV while I am eating crunchy snacks.
• The Domino's pizza tracker isn't working. Now I don't know when to put my pants on.
• My laptop os low on battery, but my charger is over there.
• I tried to spread cold butter on my toast and the bread ripped.
• I used my last Pandora skip for the hour and the next song is even worse.
• I'm staying with relatives who don't know thier WIFI password.
• I don't have enough dip for my chips, but if I open another container, I won't have enough chips for my dip.
• I burnt the roof of my mouth.
• This software update requires that I restart my computer.
• There isn't enough room on my plate, the peas keep rolling off.
• I should probably go exercise, but my hair looks really good today and I don't want to ruin it.
• My roomate ate a hotdog without a bun. Now I have an uneven ratio or dogs-to-buns.

what-the-hell-ever

I have a new pet peeve. It really isn't new at all, I just pin-pointed it today. I cannot stand, nay, I LOATHE when an employee at a store butts in front of you, reaches over you, stands in your way, etc. You get paid because I am here douche bag. You are here until 5pm, it is 1. You have plenty of freaking time to stock that shelf. Must you find the one display I'm looking at and fiddle with it for the 1 minute I am standing there???? Oh my hell. Sure, why don't you go ahead and push that huge cart of returned items right into the back of my ankles you a-hole, because it absolutely cannot wait. This post was inspired by a guy at Hobby Lobby today. He literally pushed me into a freaking charm bracelet display, all because he was walking through the same isle to talk to another co-worker. I was seething. You should be catering to me.You stand in the damn corner until I am done looking at the charms my friend.  I've worked in retail and customer service long enough to know - the customer is ALWAYS right and they come first. Period.

Speaking of period, another pet peeve. My mom is going to kill me for saying this. I hate pooping while on my period. Hate it. Crampy. Have to change your tampon usually or it comes half out. String dirty. It all just sucks. I know, I'm innapropriate. I know some of you agree, you would just never say it.

I looked at my blog on Benj's iPad and the font is like a 1997 calligraphy font - WTH??? It is not set up like that..... hope that isn't what you are seeing.

2 good articles

Two great articles I've read lately:


Dear Mother of Only One Child,

Don’t say it. Before the words can even pass your lips, let me beg you: don’t say, “Wow, you have nine kids? I thought it was hard with just my one!”
My dear, it is hard. You’re not being a wuss or a whiner when you feel like your life is hard. I know, because I remember having “only one child.” You may not even believe how many times I stop and reflect on how much easier my life is, now that I have nine children.
All right, so there is a lot more laundry. Keeping up with each child’s needs, and making sure they all get enough attention, is a constant worry. And a stomach bug is pretty much the end of the world, when nine digestive tracts are afflicted.
But I remember having only one child, and it was hard—so very hard. Some of the difficulties were just practical: I didn’t know what I was doing, had to learn everything. People pushed me around because I was young and inexperienced. But even worse were the emotional struggles of learning to be a mother.
When I had only one child, I truly suffered during those long, long, long days in our little apartment, no one but the two of us, baby and me, dealing with each other all day long. I invented errands and dawdled and took the long way home, but still had hours and hours to fill before I would hear my husband’s key in the door.
I cared so much what other people thought about her—they had to notice how beautiful she was, they had to be impressed at my natural mothering skills. I obsessed over childhood development charts, tense with fear that my mothering was lacking—that I hadn’t stimulated her enough, or maybe had just passed on the wrong kind of genes. I cringe when I remember how I pushed her—a little baby!—to achieve milestones she wasn’t ready for.
I lived in terror for her physical safety (I once brought her to Urgent Care, where the doctor somewhat irritably diagnosed a case of moderate sniffles) fearing every imaginable disease and injury. In my sleep-deprived state, I would have sudden insane hallucinations that her head had fallen off, her knees had suddenly broken themselves in the night, and so on.
My husband didn’t know how to help me. I didn’t know how to ask for help. My husband had become a father, and I adored him for it. My husband got to leave the house every day, and sleep every night. He got to go to the bathroom alone. I hated him for it.
When I had only one child, I told myself over and over that motherhood was fulfilling and sanctifying and was filling my heart to the brim with peace and satisfaction. And so I felt horribly guilty for being so bored, so resentful, so exhausted. This is a joyful time, dammit! I should enjoy being suddenly transformed into the Doyenne of Anything that Smells Bad.
I loved my baby, I loved pushing her on the swing, watching squirrels at the park together, introducing her to apple sauce, and watching her lips move in joyful dreams of milk. But it was hard, hard, hard. All this work: is this who I am now? I remember!
So now? Yes, the practical parts are a thousand times easier: I’m a virtuoso. I worry, but then I move along. Nobody pushes me around, and I have helpers galore. Someone fetches clean diapers and gets rid of the dirty ones. When the baby wakes up in the middle of the night for the ten thousandth time, I sigh and roll my eyes, maybe even cry a little bit for sheer tiredness—but I know it will pass, it will pass.
It’s becoming easier, and it will be easier still. They are passing me by.
I’m broken in. There’s no collision of worlds. We’re so darn busy that it’s a sheer delight to take some time to wash some small child’s small limbs in a quiet bath, or to read The Story of Ferdinand one more time. Taking care of them is easy. It’s tiring, it’s frustrating, but when I stop and take a breath, I see that it’s almost like a charade of work. All these things, the dishes, the diapers, the spills—they must be taken care of, but they don’t matter. They aren’t who I am.
To become a mother, I had to learn how to care about someone more than I did about myself, and that was terrible. But who I am now is something more terrible: the protector who can’t always protect; the one with arms that are designed to hold, always having to let go.
Dear mother of only one child, don’t blame yourself for thinking that your life is hard. You’re suffering now because you’re turning into a new woman, a woman who is never allowed to be alone. For what? Only so that you can become strong enough to be a woman who will be left.
When I had only one child, she was so heavy. Now I can see that children are as light as air. They float past you, nudging against you like balloons as they ascend.
Dear mother, don’t worry about enjoying your life. Your life is hard; your life will be hard. That doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong—it means you’re doing it right.

Via: http://www.ncregister.com/blog/to-the-mother-with-only-one-child

AND:

If you follow me on twitter you already know that I’ve been battling off one of the most severe bouts of depression I’ve ever had. Yesterday it started to pass, and for the first time in weeks I cried with relief instead of with hopelessness. Depression can be crippling, and deadly. I’m lucky that it’s a rare thing for me, and that I have a support system to lean on. I’m lucky that I’ve learned that depression lies to you, and that you should never listen to it, in spite of how persuasive it is at the time.

When cancer sufferers fight, recover, and go into remission we laud their bravery. We call them survivors. Because they are.

When depression sufferers fight, recover and go into remission we seldom even know, simply because so many suffer in the dark…ashamed to admit something they see as a personal weakness…afraid that people will worry, and more afraid that they won’t. We find ourselves unable to do anything but cling to the couch and force ourselves to breathe.

When you come out of the grips of a depression there is an incredible relief, but not one you feel allowed to celebrate. Instead, the feeling of victory is replaced with anxiety that it will happen again, and with shame and vulnerability when you see how your illness affected your family, your work, everything left untouched while you struggled to survive. We come back to life thinner, paler, weaker…but as survivors. Survivors who don’t get pats on the back from coworkers who congratulate them on making it. Survivors who wake to more work than before because their friends and family are exhausted from helping them fight a battle they may not even understand.

Regardless, today I feel proud. I survived. And I celebrate every one of you reading this. I celebrate the fact that you’ve fought your battle and continue to win. I celebrate the fact that you may not understand the battle, but you pick up the baton dropped by someone you love until they can carry it again. I celebrate the fact that each time we go through this, we get a little stronger. We learn new tricks on the battlefield. We learn them in terrible ways, but we use them. We don’t struggle in vain.

We win.

We are alive.

**********

I wrote this post a month ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to post it then. I was too weak from fighting to shout, and so instead I whispered this into the night and left it unpublished until I felt like I could speak to it with the battle-cry it deserves. Years ago, coming out about depression and anxiety disorder was something frightening, but now people are more honest and open and so much of the shame has dissipated. We may not have pink ribbons or telethons but we know that someone out there understands. That is, until we’re honest about how it affects us. I’ve never written about this because I can’t talk about it without it being a trigger but I think it’s important to be honest even when it’s scary. Especially when it’s scary.

I self-harm. I don’t do it all the time and it’s not enough to put me into an institution or threaten my well-being, but it’s enough to make it frightening to live in my body sometimes. I’m far from suicidal. I do it to self-sooth, because the physical pain distracts me from the mental pain. It’s one of those things that’s impossible to explain to people who don’t understand impulse control disorder. Honestly, I find it hard to understand it to myself and I’m working my ass off to fix it now before my daughter is old enough to see the things I don’t want her to see. It is one of the hardest things I have ever done.

I am safe. My disorder is fairly mild and is becoming more controlled. I’m in therapy and I’m not in danger. I avoid triggers and I’ve found therapies and drugs that are helping. I’m getting better. But I sort of feel like I can’t completely heal from this without being honest about it. So here it is. Judge me or not, I am the same person I was before. And so are you. And chances are that many of your friends, family and coworkers are dealing with things like this. Things that are killing them a little inside. Things that kill people who don’t get help. Silent, bloody battles that end with secret victors who can’t celebrate without shame. I hope that this post changes this somehow. I hope that you feel safe enough to be honest about the things you are the most ashamed of. I hope you have someone there telling you “It’s okay. You’re still the same person to me.”

I hope to one day I see a sea of people all wearing silver ribbons as a sign that they understand the secret battle and that they celebrate the victories made each day as we individually pull ourselves up out of our foxholes to see our scars heal, and to remember what the sun looks like.

I hope one day to be better and I’m pretty sure I will be. I hope one day I live in a world where the personal fight for mental stability is viewed with pride and public cheers instead of shame. I hope it for you too.

But until then, it starts slowly.

I haven’t hurt myself in 3 days. I sing strange battle-songs to myself in the darkness to scare away the demons. I am a fighter when I need to be.

And for that I am proud.

Via: http://thebloggess.com/2012/01/the-fight-goes-on/

I can relate to both of these posts in so many ways. Hope you enjoyed. Also, I hope you aren't disturbed.

uterine comfort

"Worried that your uterus is too small? Wow them the next time you go to the gynecologist, be the envy of all of your peers. Why is this Spanish woman so happy? Just look at the size of her uterus! Order now and see instant results! All that and a money back guarantee!

This pillow is 20" tall, 29" wide and has a wing span of 69"! (Basically she is really really big).
Made with super soft fleece and flannel ovaries she makes a great cuddle buddy.
*This item is made to order, so each pillow will vary slightly. Please allow 3 days for production*"        

I have no further comment.

more thoughts

Sweaty men = a fine line. It can be attractive in the right situation, but super repelling in the wrong one. (Chopping wood vs. walking around Wal-Mart).

Yes Carly, sneak into the corner in Wal-Mart and paint my nails fast and then leave.

Ya know "objects in mirror are closer than they appear"? Why the hell don't they just make a mirror where the objects are just as they appear, not closer? Seems to be almost a safety issue.

Remember this?

I freaking loved it.

"Lurking in the shadows with thier lip-gloss smiles" conjures up a perfect picture in my mind of high school dances/high school in general and I like it. Good one Taylor Swift.

Is it weird to anyone else that deer poop is in perfectly symmetrical balls?

And, have you ever seen it come out? I don't know why I have (maybe a movie?) but thier hole opens up and it comes out like corn coming out of a cup or something. The whole operation is kind of unusual. Just sayin.

I don't seem to have a problem with the phrase "just sayin" like most people do. I actually kind of like it.

random thoughts

I came home yesterday from my sister Em's house with hay in my cleavage. Only at Ems.

Clerks: for hell sakes, especially at a drive thru, DO NOT give the change with bills on bottom and change on top. We have to angle our hand all awkward and half the time they slide off. It's really annoying.

Is it bad to go to Wal-Mart and paint your nails and then leave?

The other day at the gas station, I ran into the freaking counter, hard. I serisouly had a lump the size of Cleveland on my hip - not even exaggerating. Anyway, it isn't going away, so my right hip is like an inch bigger than my left and that is the last damn thing I need. I'm already fat, I don't need to be lopsided fat. I've prided myself on being evenly distributed fat, and now this.

I was at the State Drill Competition Friday and of course everyone is dressed immaculately, except one. Let us discuss this. Skinny pants can be worn by few. The biggies are not one of the few. Skinny pants with cargo pockets can be worn by no one. Skinny pants with cargo pockets with things inside the pockets CANNOT be worn. It created a horrible upside-down triangle shape. Cargo pants are for guys who are actively at a construction site - period.

I hesitate to say this because I know a lot of people who say it - but the phrase "too cute" absolutely makes my skin crawl.

And finally - why the hell are vision and dental not included in health insurance? Are our eyes and teeth not part of our health? Are opthamologists and dentists not technically docctors?? What kind of messed up joke....

painting project!

I've said it before, and I will keep saying it....... I love Pinterest! We did finger painting tonight (he ended up with a paintbrush and Q-tips too....) and loved it!

I told him we were going to color so he went and got these and a piece of paper and sat down at the table - which is cute of him.

 I didn't have paint or really any "cooking" ingredients to make paints, so I just did flour and water and food coloring (and let him help mix it). I was actually surprised I had flour. I've used it once since we got married. Yep, I'm cool like that. He was freaking thrilled with the changing of color when we added the food coloring!

He didn't want it on his hands!

From Pinterest: press paper down on the finished product - then let dry! Here are the masterpieces, drying!

They call me.... shredder

I know, this is freaking disgusting. I debated if I should post it, but you have to see this in order to understnad the next picture.

Soooo..... clearly, I have a problem with dry feet. An extreme problem. This is a few months ago, after a shower, with one of those razor tools the Veitnamese use in the nail places.

Since I was a baby, I rub my feet together to go to sleep. Really, whenever I am tired (at work sometimes....). So this is my bed. My freaking foot got caught in a hole in the sheet the other night. Soo, after much deliberation, and some denial, Benj and I came to the conclusion that the combination of me rubbing my sandpaper/wire-brush feet together vigorously every night and crappy quality sheets = hole in the sheet.

Pretty intense.

(note: I can control it with the Ped-Egg +  cream from the dermatologist, I just don't sometimes. I know there are thousands of remedies out there - I get "suggestions" all the time.)

Anyhow, Benj has started calling me Shredder.

Happy Birthday Max!!

His actual birthday is tomorrow (Jan 22nd) but we had a little shin-dig tonight with the fam. Can you tell what it is he is into lately....?

 

Cars tent from lovely Liz & kids. He took all his stuff and sat in there :)

 

Classy framed Buzz for Max's room from Em

New "diaper" bag....

Scooter! He actually knows how to do it!

(not pictured: Balloons, Buzz helmet for scooter + probably more things I am forgetting. He was spoiled!)

Watchin a show with his new buddies....

Isn't that precious??

Happy birthday little guy!!

I quit.

No more Bachelor blogging. At least this season. It is nauseating -slash- I get too stressed about finding time to do it. Good luck to Ben.

The Bachelor: Week 1

Sooo, yes I am going to blog it again. I bitched all through last season, and to my dismay, it is even more ridiculous, based on the first episode, than last year. And here. We. Go.

• Starts off with a flashback from the humiliating finale last year.
• Man I DID NOT miss his sweaty bald spotted flappy hair.
• Contrary to popular belief, the phrase "Good things don't end unless they end badly" is stupid. My marriage ceremony ended and it was good. The hot dog I just ate was good, and it is over. Idiot.
• Don't sail in a peach tank top.
• I cannot believe they chose him.
• What should I have for lunch tomorrow? I'm already boredish.
• Squatting in the orchard sifting dirt through your hand?? Really? Tractor?
• Most promos they do on new Bachelors are them pumping iron and running on the beach. Nope, not Ben. Sailing and manual labor at the winery for him.
• Fly aways. Get him some pomade. Good helllll.
• Does he even have a home? He has been walking around in the orchard the whole show so far.
• OOooh snap. He plays the piano too.
• NOSTRILS.
• V-neck.
• Don't kayak.
• Did someone just say "lesbian cream pie"????? What!
• ****commercial The Vow looks soooo good. Channing Tatum. Mmmmm. Wasn't there a Sandra Bullock movie with the exact same plot??
• I'll say this once: the grandma stunt is a horrible staged desperate move by the producers. Hate. Not even funny.
• Horse girl is cute.
• Dumpsville - population YOU? I can't believe I just saw/heard that.
• Cow balls. She is a critical care nurse. Cow balls. Fried.
• Oh please don't make a heart with your hands.
• Of course model girl "isn't worried". They never are. Nor should they be. Hiya.
• Cue the curtain open: "Hi! I'm Jamie!" That wasn't cheeeeese at all.
• Just caught myself looking out my window.
• Semi-impressed with adopt you siblings RN girl.
• London + wardrobe changes + corny sayings = NEXT please.
• Oh, this is good. Over analyst blogger girl. That isn't a set her up to fail plan AT ALL......
• Holy shit.
• Ok, I'm no doctor, and I've only just met this girl, but I'm saying Xanax + inpatient therapy and come back in two years lady...
• Don't make a PBJ in an apron.
• That could turn into Emily/Brad pretttty quick. Leave kids out of it.
• Don't sit on a steer.
• Nicki - cute.
• Again, did I just  hear "share a tampon"? No, I must have misunderstood.
• ****commercial I cannot look at the Asian girl on Greys Anatomy. She is so weird looking. Creepy. **shudder**
• Mom - you said they kind of fixed his hair this season. No, I'm afraid they did not.
• Stare at a hummingbird Ben. That is cool. You homo.
• Why the hell are the sidewalks always wet at that mansion? Annyoing to drag your dress through freaking water.
• Chris H has a really square head.
• So I understand Ben's dad died. Why don't we keep talking about it every 3 minutes for half of last season and half of this episode. Ok?
• He just went cross eyed.
• Oh man, he just turned that sentance into a gay one by changing his tone to a gay voice. Woah.
• That, actually would make sense....
• That would be a good turn of events one season. Maybe this one.
• LOL, the hummingbird is his dad - or whatever.
• First car of girls pull up = sounds like hens gaggling.
• Verdict comment by law student girl was lame.
• "That's funny." He says, with no emotion or smile.
• The Baconator? Not a turn on sweetie.
• Candadian Bacon?? Isn't that ham, anyway?
• She has big boobs.
• Woah this one looks pregnant.
• Jenna = awkward.
• Like really awkward.
• More hens.
• Model girl reminds me a lot of someone I used to work with.....
• Don't play with his stupid hair.
• Quit playing with your own hair. This isn't a photo shoot.
• "She's pretty" he says. I'm no supermodel, but she isn't that gorgeous to me.
• Sash girl - Miss what? What is she? I missed that.
• See thru black legs dress is no bueno.
• What the HAT?? Derby?
• This is getting super desperate.
• And here we have anorexia manifested in real life. I missed her name, I was too busy watching her arm to make sure it didn't BREAK IN HALF.
• Grandma situation: Ok, I didn't see that coming.
• That girl just said: "Sash + HAT + grandma" Funny
• Ben: "The caliber is unreal." Caliber of what, those girls? Are we talking about the same thing?
• What time do I work tomorrow?
• There aren't many cute redheads. Annnnd, still, there aren't many cute redheads.
• 54 dresses?
• London = Cheese. Swiss + Provolone + Bleu + Cheddar freaking cheese. She could be cute if she'd change her personality completely.
• What the walk-by girl?
• Did Utah just say "oh hell" when she got out of limo?
• Don't have a lime green mermaid dress with ashy blonde hair.
• He likes a slug on the arm. LOL.
• "Do you know how many there are supposed to be?" Didn't they brief you sweetie? Have you ever seen the show?
• Oh good. Ben has "never dismounted anyone".
• Good thing she is cute. That could have been really really stupid.
• Gorgeous. Amazing. Handsome. Tall. Great body. Beautiful. Sexy. Great hair. Are we talking about Ben? Who??
• London just did a coyote call when Ben walked in.
• I like Rachel. Quit her job about it though?
• Nicki is overly excited here. Maybe a little tipsy??
• Oh. Bubbly. Bubbly = Ashley = Ben's type, evidently.
• "Hooves", he says.
• In the promo she said she's been riding since before she could walk. Now she says 6 years old. Umm, was she a non-walking 6 year old or is she exaggerating?
• This one has interrupted him twice.
• I am an interrupter. I'm working on it. Like really, in therapy, I am actively working on it. I'm supposed to get a notebook and when I'm having conversations write things down I want to say and wait for the person to finish talking. Good when in a meeting at work or talking seriously to Benj.
• Grandma again: She could have gone home after the limo stunt. No need to stay and chat.
• "I know more about you than you do". That isn't freaking creepy at all.....
• Does the granddaughter talk?
• "She has a heart" grandma says - LOL
• Family impression. She wants to make a family impression. Ok, again, the grandma getting out of the limo thing was good enough, now send granny home.
• Oh man, I love this trash!!
• There is some plastic & botox up in here!!!!
• And the drinking ensues.
• Rap = kinda cute. With a side of cheese.
• Ok. I'll say it. His personality is developing a little.
• Model: "I'm at the point in my life where, I'm a model". Genius.
• Jenna is either drunk and/or needs an Ativan.
• Did a lesbian activity just happen?
• Not surprising that the producers dropped that. I'm actually surprised it didn't happen sooner.
• I'm also surprised they haven't had a black Bachelor/ette.
• "You're in my life forever....Beautiful....Amazing....Need your #..... If you are the only thing that comes out of this...." holy hell.
• Jenna is hyperventilating. How do you maintain sanity, she asks?
• I know it's been said, but is it a staged move to have all the crazies come from Utah? It is the Last Days, for sure.
• Don't say "No tears". He just full on watched you crying you idiot.
• WTH is she even saying to him? What...?
• Wowza - she is a freaking train wreck.
• Is she throwing up?
• I like the first impression rose girl (horse girl).
• Hey Lindsay's parents: Don't spell Lindsay LINDZI next time around. It's stupid.
• Cow balls girl looks like the hairdresser on Legally Blonde:

• Model is a bit of a scrunch face.
• At this point in the show, Jenna looks like a meth addict.
• Woah, sweet little nurse showing some underboob.
• Why is the lesbian clapping?
• "You're a good hugger" "Get used to it" That was cute.
• London = huge head. In addition to her annoyingness.
• Woah nelly, Adams Apple on the back row!
• Aw man, the redhead.
• Jenna, for the love. It has been a rough show and you don't have many fans. DO NOT pout your lip like that. It isn't making it any easier to like you. Plus, you look like a troll. On meth.
• Adams apple got a rose. I could see that turning into a transvestite situation here shortly.
• That girl on the front row is so botoxed she can't even close her mouth. Ironically, I think it is Hat girl.
• Jenna gets a pity rose. P.I.T.Y.
• London feels like an absolute failure. It was one night. A little dramatic?
• Cow balls just wheeled her hands in circles for a good 30 seconds.
• Well kids, there has been lots of F-words tonight. The sweet little ladies.
• This promo  for next week is a little over the top with drama and emotions. Almost turn-me-off instead of wanting to watch. Good one, producers.
• "I want to verbally assult her". That is actually a freaking good line.
• I am looking at my notes paper and I had written "love blonde bangs girl" and my mind immediately went to the gutter.
• Anyway, I do like the girl who is blonde and has bangs. A lot. Classy.
• Again, the 'scenes from next week' cut is really, um, theatrical.
• Annnnd they kind of completely give away the finale....? Or is it just me?
• Is the finale in the mountains?
• Whew. It's over.

Max 2 year old pics!

I just got them back and am sooo excited! I love all of them! This is only a few of the 50! Isn't he the cutest thing ever?!