Queen of Spain Blog

It was chicken nuggets again today for Count Waffles. If you include the gobs of ketchup as a vegetable, he had a semi-healthy lunch. But something went awry three for four nuggets in–And I blame it all on Old McDonald. Just as we started yet another round of Eeeee-iiii-eeeee-iiii-oooooo, he twisted his face up and said “Mommy…I eat da chicken????” Shit.

I was wondering when he’d make that connection. And in panic, I said “No, honey, not that chicken. Those are nuggets.” This seemed to suffice for now. But how long will it last? Here we have the kid that spends half his day making animal noises and watching talking chickens/cows/pigs on TV. And Mr. Smartypants seems to have an inkling that he’s eating his friends. I have no fucking clue how to handle this.

I will catch shit for this. But I can’t help myself. I’m starting to blog and everyone who doesn’t like it can suck it. How’s the for a beginning???

You see, my friend Sarah (Czarina I forget the rest…Sarah?) started to blog first. (her link is to the right, I’ll hyperlink when I learn more) I kick myself daily for it. Mainly because I am actually a professional journalist, and should have done it before her. But I have a history of being an unintentional copycat. Same entrance song at our weddings. Same silverware. Except the damn VonMotorhead – Florida clan, got there’s first. (an explaination on that will follow too, I swear) I say its just that we have the same tastes, they may see it otherwise. Regardless, I’m here. I’m blogging.

I guess I’m one of those Mommy bloggers. Or whatever they call them. I’m not up on the whole blog lingo yet, so don’t jump on me for not knowing. I have two children. Jackson (aka Count Waffles) is 2 and nearly one half years. Hala (aka Princess Peanut) is nearly 6 months. I do not work anymore. So my life is a series of “I said NO!” and Laurie Berkner songs. I realize I am doing my children a great service by staying at home. And don’t get me wrong, I love it. But I also miss the news business and writing 20 stories a day. Thus, here I am.

It should also be noted I live in the fucked up (in the most surreal sense you can think of) world of Los Angeles. My husband Aaron (aka the Kaiser) is in the biz and we have tons of B list celebrity sightings just at airports alone to confuse and amuse you. (yes, David Hasselhoff is included…he’s tall, by the way)

I’m militant about breastfeeding. We have a family bed. I’m fine with cookies for lunch (although, sadly, my husband is not) and tv is not the enemy. I like my house clean. I’m terrified of vaccinations but get them for my kids anyway. I can tell you which local news station lead with the right story and which one blew it. I rarely get out of my sweatpants/pj bottoms. And we’re a family of sports freaks.

Here goes nothing, if not my own little place to vent and share.