10 months

It's official. Ten months ago, little M popped outta this Joo like greased lightning. He now talks "ba ba, pa pa, da da, ga ga (but no mama)", crawls, stands, does stairs, claps, growls, does "so big", chops, and juliennes. And despite the sleepless nights and the bad teeth, this Joo couldn't be happier.

The Little House That Could

Some people are addicted to booze. Others habitually tie off their arms with JCrew tie tourniquets and inject themselves with what the kids call "horse." Still others gamble. Bad Joo has a problem with old houses.

Bad Joo has dreamed since Bad Joo was a little Bad Joo of an adorable, historic bungalow. Since attaining adulthood, this dream has fleshed out, and Bad Joo compulsively shops her city streets for said bungalow. Until now.

Wait. Back up. Bad Joo has a few favorites, namely, a Japanese inspired bungalow on a certain park, a cottagey bungalow in a certain preppy city-lette; and Bad Joo's new bungalow. That's right. The one pictured in the previous post.

You see, sixteen years ago, when Bad Joo moved to Grand Bibleville, Bad Joo spotted this little number, and Bad Joo said, "I will have that house." And now she will.

Call it fate. Call it kismet. Claim that Jesus arranged it all 'twixt deciding who'd get into heaven (there are only 144,000 spots). Call it what you will, but a short time ago, Bad Joo and Mr. Bad Joo were driving aboot, and Bad Joo asked him to drive by this little number to see how she was doing.

And there was a motherfucking for sale sign in the window. Not a realtor sign. Not a fancy, shiny sign with a tube for flyers and bells and whistles. No. A little 8x10 Ace Hardware For Sale By Owner sign.

So Joo called. And found it was for sale for $ridiculouslylow,lowprice.00 . Because all of these sixteen years, the house was inhabited by a little ol' lady, who recently went to be with her Jesus. And the house is in a shambles. In ruins. And now it is Bad Joo's sworn duty to fix her back up.

Because, you see, she is the little house that could.



TO BE CORN-TINUED.

Dear M Redux

Dear M:

You are adorable and wonderful. You smile all the time. You regale us all with "ba ba" and "papa." You never cry. You never sleep either, but that's for another post. In short, you are the world's most perfect baby.

But I really could've done without the full scale decimation of my teeth. Nothing says "white trash" like a mouth full of cavities and a mother effin' crown. How come no one ever told me that pregnancy and nursing would devastate my mouth?

Love,

Mama Joo

Foque You Very Much

It has been brought to these Joos' attention that they have not been blogging with satisfactory frequency. Or at least, the frequency with which these Joos have been blogging is not pleasing to at least one of their many, many fans.

Fine.

Doods. These Joos have in the last two months: (1) pushed a baby out the hoo; (2) suffered through night after night of M's cock teething (defined as carrying out the motions of teething without actually ever producing a tooth, a la cock tease); (3) PURCHASED THE ABOVE ADORABLE, YET DECAYING, BUNGALOW IN A LOCAL HISTORIC DISTRICT WTF?; and somehow managed to organize three weekends of Joos, complete with Joo travel to Joo and ensuing mayhem with the Joo children.

This may not sound like a lot to some of you, but it is a lot for these Joos. Still, we shall endeavor to do better. In our next episode: the before pictures of Bad Joo's new bungalow, and the story of the little house that could.