You Are 28% Lady

What the fuck?

*And all along I was thinking I am so much more a lady than that! I should re-take this test and make it recant this assessment. Really! I mean, people who knew me would think I am a lady, most of the time.

Crud! I can't resist a test. Molicious took this test on her blog, and I just had to do it. Argh.

You Are 28% Lady

You tend to make up your rules of etiquette, throwing all conventions aside. And while you try to be a lady (sometimes), your behavior is often quite shocking.

Are You A Lady? Take a test here.

So, I have no problem sitting on the ground, along the Mall aisle if there is no chair available and I am absolutely tired. I also have no problem walking around barefoot if my heel-fetish hurts my feet like a bitch. That's just being sensible. Err, considering I am also an idiot when it comes to my footwear, that is.

I am so more than 28% a lady! That's for sure!



*I think it says somewhere that I must never start with a "And" for a sentence.

I've often wondered

if I am the only one who felt that when those little teeth comes, my baby ain't such a baby no more. Like they've grown up a little, and now I could start to yearn for another little one.

I was feeding D4-the-baby tonight when I made a mistake of grabbing my new Sherilyn Kenyon's Dark Hunter book. It's a really good book, so I take every opportunity to read it here and there. I am halfway through it. Anyway, my baby noticed right away that my gaze have drifted away.

First he complained by crying that pitiful sounding cry. It will make your heart ache listening to him. Except for the fact that there's no tears falling, of course. So I did what any self-respecting mother would do. I pretended to have stopped reading, and keep on reading anyway at a slightly different angle. Ah, the eye-strain I suffer for books I like!

Then I felt it...those sharp little needles, the angry look, and the strong impression of someone trying really hard at something. My first thought as a mother, I am proud of him for trying whatever. He's only 5 months, but he knows to try. Then a millisecond later, ouch! He's biting me!

Here he is soothing his gums because it's very traumatic when teeth first comes in. I am not sure yet if he's realized that now, he can really enforce his "rules" He now has joined the "soft voice, with a big stick" league. I am afraid of teeth. I mean, I've been bitten quite a few times obviously, and I am scared of it.




I feel like I must make no sudden movements, don't show fear. I am happy and sad all at once that my baby is growing older by another month. Pretty soon, he'll be bringing home the girl of his dreams, letting me met his future bride. Oy vey!

He's Into Laundry now*

Every so often, my children would be obsessed with something. One time, my daughter wanted to spread everything creamy on my walls. No lipsticks, face creams, lotions, or lip liners is safe from her. My first son was into scrubbing my floor. He'll gladly sponge and scrub at the floor no matter what state it's in. I also have a nephew who's into relocation. Whereever something, he'll move it somewhere else. It's part of being a child I guess.

Then along came my second son. He's a warrior, and he's obsessed with laundry. Too bad I didn't have a picture of the time he put together the computer back after I had dismantled it because he was in it too much. He was barely two. I wasn't aware he could color code the wires. I was amazed.

Now back to the laundry. I have proof! I had to make this post today because he finally understood the rules of laundry. I used to find my whites with reds and blacks. I keep telling him, "Sweetie, all whites or all blacks." And he'd look at me and go away.



Well today, the washing machine was empty all morning. He finally took matters into his hand. I passed him by and saw that it was loaded with blacks. He told me, "Mommy, we're doing blacks now." Okay.



Except, I was pretty sure I have no black loads left. I had beiges and whites, but blacks were all done yesterday. Sure enough, a closet-ful of his navy blue uniforms in my washer. All pants in his closet.

And there we have it. My laundry-obsessed child is still laundry obsessed years later. This son of mine is very helpful around my house. D and I love him for it! Flying laundry detergent and all.




*that song "In the Army now", it hums inside my head when I see him near my washer and dryer.