Addictive Personality? And some cute stuff from the Southern Fried Brothers

Some people just have that gene for addictive personality disorder. My substance of choice is food. Love it. Love everything about it, cooking it, smelling it, thinking about it, tasting it, reading cookbooks, watching food network. But, as I've well-documented...I lost about 100 pounds of lardass after Fat Baby was born, so I can't indulge my addiction as much as I'd like. I want to stay as healthy as I can, so I've decided to pick up some new vices. Thought I'd share....because it's my blog, and I can.

With the start of a new school year, I decided to go all out in the organizing department (my type-A-ness has been well documented, here). I didn't post about the total extreme makeover of the boys' living space, because I was too damn busy cleaning out, painting, constructing, ordering, purchasing, and working my ass off to talk about it. I moved them into a room together (The President wanted bunk beds, so we gave him a roommate!) and am re-claiming Fat Baby's room as the office it once was. I thought our chances of keeping everyone in his own bed might increase, if they had each other for company. Plus, I really needed a work space.

In my attempt to get on the organizational bandwagon, I finally purchased one of those fancy-schmancy labelmakers. Totally addicted. Anything that would usually get a name slapped on it with Sharpie is now neatly marked with a clear adhesive label. Anything that can't be labeled gets monogrammed, and vice-versa. Yeah, I have a real thing with the monogramming. (I seriously have the monogrammer on speed-dial in my cell phone). Is the whole monogramming thing limited to the South? If so, I am totally in the right place.

As if the monogramming and labeling frenzy weren't enough, I was cleaning out my pantry yesterday when I discovered that I apparently have some sort of vinegar obsession. Seriously. I had like 8 different kinds of vinegar in the pantry. And I use them! I guess that kind of goes along with my cooking/eating addiction...

Since I've been growing my hair out, I can't seem to step out of the house without purchasing some kind of hair product. Clips, barrettes, pony tail holders, headbands, flat irons....just trying to keep things interesting. I also seem to be stockpiling body wash and pajamas lately. Maybe I'm getting ready to hibernate for winter.

And of course, there's the internet, blogging, and reality tv. Yeah, I think it's safe to say that I'm a likely candidate for several multi-step programs.

In other news, here's some funny stuff my kids said today.

From The President, "Oooooooooh, yuck!!! Mama, my breath smells like Fat Baby!"

"You mean your breath smells like his breath?"

"No, I mean my breath smells funky, like the smell of him!"


My poor baby grabbed my excruciatingly hot flat iron the other day. There's nothing like learning a lesson the hard way, after you've been told a bajillion times. (Around here, we call that The Law of Natural Consequences). This morning, he noticed it on the counter and we had this conversation:


(Imagine a gravelly tough-guy baby voice, just like you'd think a 48-pound-just-turned-three-year-old would have).

"That's hawt, mama."

"Yes, it is...you burned your fingers on it the other day."


"Yeah, that's hawt. That alligator is hawt."

I love their imagination! Who would've thought that the flat iron looked like an alligator?

The kid who nearly got his little "pingers" burned off by the sonofabitch, that's who!