Things fall apart...
Things fall apart.Then fit back together.Then look kind of shitty because they're all pieced together with glue and you can see where the cracks are. Even if they fit back perfectly into place, they'll always show the moment that they fell apart.That is this blog.If you were to go back to the beginning, you might find that I was methodically documenting my day. Got knocked up. One became two. They came out of my vagina. I went crazy. We made art together. I ate a ham and cheese sandwich last night. We were out of Muenster so I was forced to eat Swiss. I don't really like Swiss. My armpits reek. The problem was this: I w

words.
"Every day as I love this baby in my lap, I think of my other baby. Poor older brother, poor missing one. I see the infant before me, the glory of the soles of the feet, the lips fattened and glossy with nursing, the nose whose future Edward and I try to predict daily. The love for the first magnifies the love for the second, and vice versa."-from Elizabeth McCracken's An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination

shame on a mommyblogger who tries to run game on a mommyblogger. keyword: shame.
You know how you think of ideas in your head? And before you can complete the idea you forget what it was? No? Oh.Okay, you know how you get a idea in your head and your all "this would make a great post and I haven't posted anything all week and my devoted readers are probably reading some other mommy blog that is nicer and isn't consumed with guilt and self-loathing and they're going to realize that I'm really just bringing them down and that's why they come here everyday to read my blog because they kind of like the feeling that they get from my misery and then they're all, 'I'm sick. I need help' so they go to counseling." Um, you're welcome. And I've been

This episode of "Pimp My Gestation" is brought to you by . . . Pilsner Urquell: "The
Zadie is playing on the floor after drinking three of the seven ounces of milk in her bottle.Lydia is propped on Brandon's lap, entering the **clean plate club**. My head is laying in Lydia's lap.The three of us are on the couch with our eyes closed.Me: We should totally have our own reality show.B: ?Me: I think people would much rather watch this than Jon and Kate plus a bunch of kids getting shuttled around and bitched out.B: I don't think people would be interested in this.Lydia farts.B: Who was that?

for uncle bob. and aunt bettes. and the beautiful family that is their legacy.
I once had a definite theory of death.Death was scary.Death was the most tragic thing that could ever happen to your loved ones.Honestly, I never thought that I would have to deal with it until I was old enough to be comfortable with it.So sure that age brought acceptance and familiarity.Diminished fear.Then Death and I got to know each other.So much earlier than expected.In such a miserable way.My fears of Death's haunting tragedy were confirmed.My life was ruined by it.And so I knew that every death in my life would bring about such unbearable grief and a los