Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Willis loves getting email

From: Austin Ali
Sent: Wednesday, September 28, 2011 10:25 AM
To: Willis
Subject: FYI

Just in case you were thinking about how my birthday was in 2 weeks, I thought I would send along the below because I would not be sad if I received either of them from you or if Santa brought them too.

(1)  Necklace:
AND if you order before 10/6 and type in the code JONI, you save 30%!  That’s like $30.  I save you so much money Willis.
I would want the circle to say [no way am I sharing this on the internet you crazy stalkers]  and the initial to be L.

(2)  Diaper bag

From: Willis
Sent: Wednesday, September 28, 2011 10:33 AM
To: Austin Ali
Subject: RE: FYI

Thanks for keeping me in the loop!

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Austin Ali strikes again

Currently in the Austin Ali house we are having some [more] issues with pest control.  I really don't want to go into specifics, but there was another scorpion RIGHT next to Logie's baby pool yesterday, and this morning as Willis was getting dressed in the closet, he exclaimed, "THERE.IS.A.GIANT.BUG.IN.THE.CLOSET.THAT.IS.NOT.A.SCORPION!!!" 

I love that lately if he sees a bug he IMMEDIATELY interjects that it is not a scorpion. 

Anywaaaay, since I am also a freak now about poisonous things around my precious baby (thanks to my friend Ashley) (are you AWARE of how much Bromine is in the Snugride 35 carseat?  Are you??) I decided to hire an organic pest control company and fire my existing, totally poisonous company. 

Today a salesman showed up at my door from the organic company ready to partake in a little salesman-housewife waltz in my kitchen.  I wasn't having any of it.

Chem-free Mike [after spending 15 minutes scouring the backyard, [installing hidden cameras in] my attic, etc.]:  "See, what our company is really about are the details.  Details.  See, I could tell in just 5 minutes of doing the perimeter check that your previous compan-"
me [interrupting]:  Listen, Mike, I appreciate what you are trying to do here.  But my baby has to go down for a nap in ten minutes.  Can we just go over what it is you do and how much I have to pay you?
Chem-free Mike:  "I was just getting to that.  We kill off the entire LIFE CYCLE, you see.  For what you are dealing with, I recommend the year long agreement where we will do a full sweep of your attic, perimeter, garage, and -"
me [interrupting]: "Can I cancel at anytime?"
Chem-free Mike:  "Yes."

Fast forward about 6 minutes to me signing the paperwork.  Chem-free Mike has already set up the appointment, is filling out the auto-pay sheet, and I just need to sign on the dotted line.  He thinks it's a done deal. 

me:  "What's this 'terms agreement' I see on the back, where it's saying this is for a full year?  This sort of reads to me like a contract.  I don't want to sign a contract.  I want to be able to pick up my phone in two months and tell you to not come back to my house if I want to and tell you to stop charging my card."
Chem-free Mike:  "This is our agreement.  Our agreement that we will take care of your problem, but see, our treatment is VERY... SPECIFIC.  You should want our services for the year.  If you only want treatment for TWO MONTHS, then maybe we aren't the right company for you."

This, of course, made me a little... bunchy. 

me:  "First of all, please don't tell me what I SHOULD want.  Second of all, let me be VERY SPECIFIC with you.  I'm not signing something saying I have to pay you for a year.  We don't even know where we'll be in a year.  What if we don't even LIVE here?"
Chem-free Mike [getting agitated]:  "All we ask is you give us 30 days to make it right.  Then you can cancel."
me [finishing reading the fine print, where it says just that]: "gotcha."

Wanna see Logie eating avocados?

Saturday, September 24, 2011


o-b-s-e-s-s-e-d with this picture.

I just can't believe how much he has changed! 

We have to have another one.

Willis the comedian

Today as I was lounging on the couch, trying to get Logan to stop squirming and cuddle up, I said to him "Logie, just be still.  It's so nice to be cozy.  Your mom is good at a lot of things, but she is the BEST at getting cozy."  And Willis piped in - "actually, Logie, your mom is good at getting cozy, but she is the BEST at shopping online."

I call outside spoon!!!!

Dear Willis

Just as an FYI you can feel free at anytime to not put your giant man-paw prints all over the top of our shiny shiny.  Lily doesn't like it.  Even the passive-aggressive attempt of leaving the stainless cleaner spray on top of her didn't work, so this is my next try. 
your awesome wife

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

One and Done?

There is a daily (and by daily I mean hourly) discussion happening in the Austin Ali house these days. 

Want to guess what it is?

Yes, Logie's diapers are always front and center -- good guess.  But that's not what I'm talking about.  Diapers and shit are just a given.  (Speaking of, here's a text that Willis rec'd today while he was in a big meeting.  Skip over if you don't like reading about turds.  But really, if you don't like reading about turds, then maybe we shouldn't even be friends, right?  text: "I saved Logans diaper for u. It has real turds in it. I'm sorry it totally reeks but ur the only one that hasn't unsubscribed from my poo list."

But, I digress. 

here it is.  the major debate. 


It really is a CONSTANT battle in my head.  Which means Willis gets pummeled with questions every 67 minutes.  "Willis?  Are we gonna have another baby?"  "Willis, do you think this time in 5 years we'll have two kids?"  Willis said last night he's 60/40 on the whole gig.  And I am so undecided I can't even decide how undecided I am.

Here's what is going on in my head. 

Having Logie is obvs the best thing I have ever done (and will ever do) in my entire life.  I mean, of course meeting Willis and marrying him, etc. etc. was really great too, but as Willis and I have both established, we'd pick Logie if the ship was sinking.  We're open about it.  It's ok.   

But see, whenever anything challenging or worrisome happens with Logie (hi stomach virus, thank you for allowing me to witness the most terrifying thing ever in my entire life -- a baby puking -- thanks again), I immediately say, "nope.  That's it.  Logie's it, sorry Logie, you're it."  But then I start thinking about Logie when he's like 14 and all of his friends are on spring break with their families playing in the surf with their big brothers and Logie's all alone with Willis and me, bored out of his mind.  But then I worry that he and his brother/sister won't get along anyway and Logie starts asking, "why did you do this?  I hate my brother." and then I start wondering the same thing.  Like shit, sorry Loges, we did this for you... do you not want that brother or sister after all?  Hmmm.  Real pickle here, son. 

And while we're on that subject, I mean, how could I possibly ever love another baby as much as I love Logan?  Sorry baby #2, but Logie's the real deal.  How can you compete with the coolest baby on earth?  You can't. 

Then I start to think about those horrendously wonderful first newborn days with that teensy eensy little squeaking cuddly baby and I think that we HAVE to do it again, right?  That other dimension.  We have to go back again, right?  But it was so.... horrible at times.  Right?  It was just horrible because we didn't know what we were doing, right?  Was it misery?  It really wasn't.  I miss those days. 

But do I?

And then I start thinking about the horrendously horrendous pregnancy, too.  The worry.  The constant, constant worry.  The crying spells.... hormones...  diabetes.... cankles... AH!  I mean, how could I possibly do that again to myself, and more importantly, everyone around me??

And the bfeeding.  My God, the bfeeding.  And that fucking pump that started talking to me by the end, saying "Oprah!  Oprah!  Oprah!"  BREASTfeeding.  By far the hardest thing I have ever done, but now it's just so easy.  How could it possibly be hard again the second time around?  I'm so attached to it now.  Logie will probably be that kid walking up to his mama fresh off the school bus from 1st grade, still going strong.  (Please intervene if he is walking up to the boob.  TIA.)  I mean, I have to experience this with another little baby, right? 

But then there's the postpartum depression.  My God, I was crazy.  I truly think I was one crying spell away from a padded room at the local mental ward.  Poor Willis.  And let's not even TALK about the c-section drugs not working.  Really... I mean, how much time do you have, anyway?


who wins? 

I can't even believe that these days are already a distant memory....
I still wear that shirt like every day. 
I am so... swollen here.
Well, at least I know what I will look like when I'm dead.

just terrified

February 7th.  Pump and feed schedule.  My God.

I mean, why wouldn't we do this again?

Tuesday, September 20, 2011




  • won't ever leave you alone.  EVER.
  • meows and howls starting at 4am.  every morning.
  • if you try and ignore his howls, he will jump on you and stick his butt in your face.  flicks tail if he's really wanting to play.
  • if you still don't get up, he finds the loudest piece of trash to bring right next to your bed to chew on until you get up to take it away.
  • really the only thing that works to get him to go away in the morning is sticking your entire hand in your water on the bedside table and flicking it on him.  and then once you think he's gone and you settle back into sleep, he starts howling again. 
  • since he has long hair, many times giant cat turds stick to his fur and then they fall off at random places around the house, usually on the white part of your new rugs. 

Sunday, September 18, 2011

We Don't Want Any

If you have been to my house, you know that I have a little [cheeseball] ho-made-it sign on my front porch that says "No Soliciting"  (with a tiny 'thank you' at the bottom) hanging from an outside outlet.  Like a cranky, crotchety 85 year old man (no offense, Willis) would have on his front porch.

This is code for "GO AWAY"

Everyone has their "thing" -- and while I am aware that I have a few (and by few I mean thousands) more  than the average Joe, people who LITTER.MY.DOOR.WITH.FLYERS.AND.THE.LIKE is a big one for me.  HUGE.

I've tried breaking it down in my head, and I'm not sure WHY this bothers me so much.  But I think it boils down to stranger-dangers being on my property, uninvited. 

Friday was the final straw.  I was heading out to Costco while sweet baby Logan was taking a snooze (don't worry, Willis was WFH) and as I opened the door, a flyer from Dwayne's D.A.D lawn care service fell to the ground.   I had HAD it.  Having just been out in the front yard to inspect the baby raccoon holes from the night before (there is no way I can be mad anymore about the holes all over my front yard now that I know they are baby raccoons -- I mean, how cute???) I knew that DWAYNE had JUST been at my door.

So, I decided to find him*. 

It didn't take long.  You can spot these guys a million miles away -- iPod headphone cord, and arms full of white paper.  So I pulled over and rolled down my window.

me (hanging out the window):  "Hey!  Are you the lawn service people?"
Mexican dude wearing youth ministries tshirt:  "no, I just pass out the flyers."
[EDITOR'S NOTE:  In retrospect, this is the moment I should've let the poor lad go on his merry way, considering he was wearing a youth ministry t shirt and all.  But I was all riled up.]
me (still hanging out the window):  "Well, you just put a flyer on my door, right next to a sign that says "NO SOLICITING!!!!!  Did you see the sign?"
Mexican dude wearing youth ministries tshirt:  "I didn't see it."
Mexican dude wearing youth ministries tshirt:  "I sorry, I didn't see."

Of course the second I pulled away I felt TERRIBLE about it, and my trip to Costco was not as enjoyable as it would have been if I hadn't just unleashed on a poor guy trying to make a few extra bucks to help out his youth ministry with a side job passing out flyers.

So, when I got home, I decided to call Dwayne*.  From the flyer.   

Dwayne:  "Hello?"
me:  "Is this Dwayne from D.A.D's lawn service company?"
Dwayne:  "Yes, can I help you?"
me:  "Yes.  Yes you can.  You can stop littering my front door with paper.  Especially since there is a NO SOLICITING sign hanging in plain view.  That means I don't want any.  Tell your people to PAY ATTENTION!!" 
Dwayne (obviously having had this conversation a time or twenty in his life):  "I am well within my right to leave a flyer on your door.  I have spoken with the police about it.  Call them if you want.  Soliciting is when I knock on your door and try to sell you something.  Go ahead, call the police on me if you want." 
me:  "Yeah?  Maybe I will.  And I was actually looking for a lawn service company [lie] but now that you've put litter on my door, I am not going to use your services."
Dwayne:  "That's fine, but I get a ton of business this way, especially in YOUR neighborhood." 
me:  "Yeah?  Well I'm going to go door-to-door and tell every single one of my neighbors never to use your company*." 
Dwayne:  "I will pray for you**."


I love my big boy high chair!

Mom, for real?  Seriously?


*Because this is how sane, rational people behave. 
**Only in Texas. 

Tuesday, September 13, 2011


I won't go into an extraordinary amount of detail, but after I had Logan, several things about my appearance changed.  I don't just mean the obvious extra flab, pounds, and tiger stripe stretchies... or the constant state of dishevelment I'm in.  I mean things like:  rando "dark spots" all over my face even though I avoided sun like a vampire, a lone skin tag (ohmygodthatissodisgusting), and.... 

it's like a beard is sprouting out the side of my head.



I'm really at a loss as to what to do with these bad boys.  I mean, on one hand I could just leave them down, all harsh-like, but then I think I really look like a man.  And if I comb them back behind my ear, it ends up looking like this:

so... wispy.
All wispy-like. 

Do I shave them?  Use mousse?


Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Crazy Cat Lady

We are down at Mimi and Pops' having a little vaca, but this can't wait.  BECAUSE THIS IS THE CRAZIEST SHIT THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME, AND I'VE HAD SOME CRAZY SHIT HAPPEN.

Here's the deal. 

I believe the woman who I hired to watch after the cats is on drugs, or completely out of her mind.  And we're not talking about the smokey-a-little-weed type drugs either.  Like hard core, take-a-vacation-from-coherency-for-a few-days type drugs.

Here's what went down.

I send a text message to her tonight (at 8:15pm) asking how the cats are doing, because I didn't get notification that she disabled the alarm.  Here's verbatim how the [text] conversation goes:

me:  Hi Tam - it's Ali - how are Sox and Daisy?
Tam:  I am on my easy under this as I look for more than organizeation to caret diamonds.
me:  ?
Tam:  Sorry...too much jewelry plan.  How did you do that?  She will fotget who you can fearful add to the bounty...guessing why and by next w

And that's it.  Nothing after that.  This, of course, concerns me.  So I immediately call.

me:  "Hi Tam, it's Ali, Sox and Daisy's mom."
Tam [sounding out of it]:  "Oh hi! I was just looking at my phone realizing I need to go see Sox and Daisy.  It's been really hectic today because of the cold front.  I plan to go at 8:30."
me:  "Isn't it 8:30 now?  Are you feeling ok?  What are you talking about diamonds and jewelry?"
Tam [laughing]:  "Oh, I talk about all of my animals like that.  They are all diamonds to me.  My baby diamonds."
me: "If you don't feel like going tonight you don't have to."
Tam:  "Nono, Sox and Daisy, [then repeats alarm code a few times], I did it right yesterday and I was really proud."


Fast forward to my alarm being disabled (got an email) so I call.

She sounded very chipper and says "oh! I'm just lovin' on your babies here.   Oh!  you have a package!  It looks like a pound of something.  Pound of sugar, pound of flour, pound package?  Yes!  You know, it's so fun to move into a new a house.  They have that pound ceremony for you.  Oh, it's so great."

So I say, "oh, that's so great Tam.  Listen, we're coming home early!  Job well done.  Can you please leave the key under the mat after you lock the door?  My neighbor who is a police officer is going to come by later tonight and pick it up.  It's so nice having a police officer as a neighbor.  You don't need to come back after tonight.  Thank you."

Then she apologized again for today being hectic because of the cold front.

ps - I alerted my neighbor to the situation after she disabled our alarm, so they were spying on her through their window I guess.  Apparently she was looking in my backyard for something.  And our dear friend who hates cats is stopping by tomorrow to make sure all is ok.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Never again

Dear Kim,

I've had it.  This is it.  You would think after all we've been through together that you would have some compassion, but it's clear you had other intentions from the beginning. 

“Some people come into our lives and leave footprints on our hearts and we are never ever the same.” -Flavia Weedn

I'm starting to regret all of the times that I spoke so highly of you.  All of the people to whom I recommended you.  All of the times I picked you over everyone else. 

“It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all” -Tennyson

But lately, all you do is leave me feeling nothing but miserable.  I've wasted an entire weekend day just thinking of how awful you have made me feel, and I'm not doing it again.  No more.  And in case you don't speak English anymore, it's NO MAS, Kim.  NO MAS.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me thrice, shame on both of us. -American Proverb

Goodbye, Kim.  Hello, Fireman's 4.  Welcome to the family. 

Sayonara, Kim.  Bitch.