I still don’t have any end tables for my bed. (I’m avoiding the use of the word “nightstands” now just to make my husband KRAZEE.) All I wanted yesterday was those damn tables. But, because I have no taste and any purchases I make for our home end up looking like ass, I wanted MrZ to come with me. He’s the one with taste. I’m not ashamed to admit that.

Well…somehow we ended up talking about bedroom furniture in general. We have none, except for the bed. But just the bed, no headboard or foot board or anything. We keep all of our clothes in the shelves/racks in our closet. It’s a disaster. We’ve needed bedroom furniture for years. So, we found a set we liked yesterday. We came home to talk about it a little more, check measurements etc. Then MrZ decided we should wait to make such a big purchase. Maybe a few weeks. Think about it a little bit.

BAH. But I want my end tables for my bed NOW!

We’ve done the exact same thing several times in the last few years. I think we’re just scared of committing. We keep getting cold feet about our bedroom furniture. It’s just such a big purchase intended to last forEVER. Will we still like it next year? Will it hold all of our clothes? Will MrZ yell at me the first time I spill something on it? (Because it will be me. It always is. Even with three kids I’m still the messiest one in the family.)

So, the books I’m reading are still sitting on a wobbly garden table next to my bed. I put drinks on it sometimes, but because it’s meant for decoration, it is not stable and I always end up spilling things. It’s not big enough for a lamp and it’s too short for our bed. In my dream world, I’d be able to keep my lotion (hand AND foot), nail clippers, books, magazines and possibly some tissues…ALL ON THE SAME, VERY STABLE, END TABLE FOR MY BED.

I guess I’ll just keep dreaming.

I’m without a toddler this morning. She spent the night at Mimi and Dampaw’s and I’m here trying to think of all the things I can do this morning without her to chase after. First and foremost? Go grocery shopping. I’m proud that I’ve mastered the Week’s Worth Of Groceries With Two Kids task…but it’s not an easy one. I have to move VERY quickly. (Two weeks ago I did my best yet: $210 dollars worth of groceries in 18 minutes.) Today? I’m going to be leisurely. I’m going to do something I never do…browse.

I also woke up to my VP text from Barack this morning. (We’re on a first name basis, you know.) Biden. Not myfirst choice, but I still think it’s a good one if we hope to get elected. He texted me at 2:35am, he should know I’d be sleeping. I’ll talk to him about that later.

I am hoping to go out today and do something I’ve been talking about for three years: Buy end tables for my bed! (MrZ: “They’re called BED-SIDE TABLES NIGHTSTANDS - you STILL CAN’T GET IT RIGHT.”) I’ll keep you posted on this exciting development.

What are your plans?

• I finished Angel this week. That means I’m officially caught up with the rest of the Whedon-obsessed world. I have much to say about Buffy and Angel but I’m not sure if a post like that would be very relevant. I will say this: I have already started watching Buffy again - this time with LilZ. If you liked it the first time? I highly suggest buying the DVDs. The commentaries alone are totally worth it.
• I actually cooked two meals different this week than I normally do. Granted - they were from a box (One Tuna Helper, and One Complete Meals) but still! TWO NEW MEALS. My family might still be in shock.
• I’m so in love with the comments on the Boob Honor Roll! We should totally give out report cards to hang on our fridge. And I think Ashley should be our valedictorian.
• I signed up to go on a field trip with LilZ’s English class next month. I can not EVEN begin to tell you how nervous I am. Is that really screwed up? I’m nervous about spending the day with a bunch of 8th graders. Probably because I remember 8th grade. I fear intense flashbacks that will have me curled up in the corner of the playhouse crying about being called Pizza Face. I think this will be the FIRST field trip I’ve ever gone on. Anyone got any pointers? Should I hide a flask in my purse?
• I found myself avoiding an item of food the other day because it had no nutritional value. It was a biscuit. I TURNED DOWN A BISCUIT. SERIOUSLY. Can you believe it? I’ve only lost 3 lbs but I’m seriously seeing changes in the way I look at food. I’ve gone completely vegetarian when I’m in control of my own food and I’m even taking VITAMINS. Not a multi-vitamin, but ones a nursing vegetarian would need. I just feel good about my eating habits now. I just wish the weight would come off a little quicker. 3 lbs down…29.5 to go.
• LilZ’s preschool teacher had a conference with me many years ago to point out how good of an artist he was. That he seemed to be drawing beyond his age. He has proven to be a GREAT artist as he gets older as well as a general creative sort. He wrote a 160-page book this summer and is starting a second one right now. It looks like his sister may have the same artistic streak. Lord knows they didn’t get those things from me.
• There’s a little boy at the kids’ school with the same name as AndyZ. I walk through his classroom to get to NikkiZ’s every day. It’s very weird to see your child’s name somewhere that isn’t associated with your child. I can honestly say this is the FIRST time this has happened. My other two kids have unique enough names that I’ve never seen them anywhere other than associated with them. I wonder if my parents felt this pang of, “Dude! Great name!” every time they saw “Kim” in print? I feel like stopping the boy’s parents and saying, “Hey! Our kids have the same names! Isn’t that cool?” They’d probably find that weird.
• I took a long bath last night to read last week’s Entertainment Weekly. It’s the first relaxing bath I’ve had in two weeks. This is unusual for me because I used to try to schedule them 2-3 times a week just to maintain a necessary level of sanity. Looks like I’m finally adjusting to life with three kids. That 20 minutes of peace is not as necessary anymore. Go me.
• My one nightly beer on the other hand? Became much more necessary.

Let’s talk about my boobs, shall we? I’ve been wanting to put my own nursing history/experience out there as a middle-ground nurser for quite some time. There are many who talk about how much milk they produce and how awesome their kids are at nursing - then there are those who don’t produce milk and who’s kids don’t nurse well if at all. I’m somewhere in the middle.

My boobs have never been the best milk-producing boobs around. I tried pumping with LilZ and ended up drying up when I went back to work when he was a few months old. I tried pumping with NikkiZ but failed again (I could pump an hour and get maybe ONE OUNCE) - so I had to drive to her daycare to nurse her every 2.5 hours. That worked fine for her because I worked close enough to her daycare to be there in five minutes. I’ve tried pumping again this time around as well, to no avail. And yes, I’ve tried that pump you would recommend. Or, something similar. I just had to accept I couldn’t pump because if I kept trying EVERY DIFFERENT PUMP or STYLE or TIME OF DAY to try to get results, I would have made myself crazy. Instead, I just accepted: My boobs can’t pump milk. Amen.

Since I don’t work that close to daycare anymore, I only go feed AndyZ at lunch. The other two meals of the day are formula. Which he takes beautifully from a very boring and cheap bottle. I only mention the boring and cheap parts because we spent GOBS of money trying to find a bottle and nipple NikkiZ would take. She never took any of them. Whereas, I think AndyZ would drink out of a coke can. He’s low-maintenance that way.

Anyway - so my boobs? Not that great with the pumping. I don’t even leak, which indicates that I don’t produce as much milk as the average nursing Mom. I only wore nursing pads in the beginning to keep the lanolin from getting on my bra. I’ve only leaked a handful of times, and those times weren’t even bad enough to warrant a change of clothes. Hell, even my first day back at work, when I went 4+ hours without nursing, I just felt kinda full. Didn’t really leak or anything.

Essentially? My boobs are the equivalent of a C-student. They do enough to pass the class and graduate, but no one is going to be offering them an scholarships to college.

I was recently telling someone that one of the best things about MrZ and I as a couple, is that we have a few things in common that we didn’t know about at first. And while we didn’t look for those common grounds before we were living together, they have proved to be quite important and I often wonder what happens to couples who find they don’t share the same viewpoints on these issues. Does it become permanent a point of contention? Like my avoidance of left turns?

For example, we’re both punctual. Now, it is more difficult with two kids in tow and we’re re-establishing how long it takes to get ready. But - typically? We’re early. We aim for early. We aim for early because we fear those things that pop up unexpectedly and slow a person down. Like traffic. Or leaking diapers. Or a return trip home to get that one thing we forgot. We allow time for all of those instances and since they usually don’t happen? We’re usually early.

The other is that we both have a high tolerance for germs. This means we don’t think each other gross for not freaking out about possible contamination. This comes up a lot with the dogs, as they’re kinda gross too. But - the time this seems to be the most important is when sharing salsa. I have to tell you: We are a family of double dippers. Now, some of us are old enough to curb that when sharing salsa with others, but as a family? We don’t care. We just double-dip to our heart’s content. I’ve seen WARS breakout at tables over this issue…but at ours? Not so much. We don’t even think about it. (I do, however, prefer MrZ not just assume I want the been dip to mix with the salsa, I HATE THAT.)

The last one, and at times what I consider to be the most important of the three, is that we both are kinda disgusting. Or maybe I should phrase that differently? We both have a high tolerance for the Ick Factor. Case and Point: Last night AndyZ had a small bit of pee escape his diaper (Damn when I forget to point it DOWN and the pee comes out of the top of his diaper!) and get on our bed. It was bedtime and I was tired and MrZ said, “So, what are we going to do about this pee?” To which I replied, “Nothing. It’s on my side of the bed and considering most nights I end up covered in either spit-up or breast milk, I’m not going to worry about. This is the weekend I wash the sheets anyway.” Did he cringe at the idea of leaving it? No. Did he cringe at the idea of me sleeping in spit-up some nights? No. He just shrugged, “Okay,” and proceeded to go to sleep.

Then, a few minutes later? AndyZ spit-up all over MrZ and his side of the comforter. This time we blotted it up so it would at least be dry and proceeded to go to sleep. Neither one of us giving it another thought.

Maybe I’ve discovered the secret to our happy marriage. Be on time. And gross.