Congrats and thank you! Quote contest winners and answers revealed

Congratulations, T! You are the grand prize winner of Who said dat?!, Spawnocalypse's first birthday contest! You were the only person to correctly identify all the quotes. First runner up is Lisa, with an impressive 15 our of 16 correct (including No. 15, which I decided not to count after she correctly pointed out I never specifically attributed it to anyone).

Thank you so much to everyone who played. I know digging through the archives was more work than tweeting or leaving a comment, and it means a lot to me that you took the time to delve into over a year's worth of stories. As a parent and a writer, these moments are sweeter when shared, and I hope you'll accept this giveaway as tiny expression of my immense gratitude for your loyalty.

Now, in case you're curious about the answers. See below:

1. “You are a walking, talking Post-It.” --Brian, my husband, Bullsh*t duty
   
2. “Hold me, Mommy. I’m-a-scared of the mean lady.” --Gunny, in reference to goth chick ringing our groceries, posted on FB May 5
   
3. "Dis. My. Mommy."--Annie, Mini posts
   
4. "No, no, honey! You don't want to aspire to be a grocery store worker. You have to shoot higher." --mean mom overheard at grocery store, If I were the confrontational type
   
5. "I need medicine for my face. It not feel good." --Gunny, telling me what he needed for the first time
   
6. "Mommy's belly silly!" --Gunny, on being entertained by my Jelloey midsection
   
7. "My belly huwt. KISS IT. NOW." --Annie, starting to communicate her demands needs
   
8. "Good mawning, Mommy. I wahnt-a FOOD." --Annie, a typical morning greeting
   
9. “Oh, no! I LOST MY BODY!” --Gunnar, on his first (accidental) poop in the potty
   
10. “I washin’ my pirates.” --Gunnar, referring to his diaper area and making me wake in the middle of the night laughing
    
11. "Happy Ween!" "Twick or tweet?" --My ladybug, Annie
    
12. "I wanna eat Gwampa's house!" --Gunny, on being a lunch guest at my dad's
    
13. "This counter has been clear for 7 days." --me, Kitchen unconfidential
    
14. "I'm not tired, I'm just warmin' up [rubbing the hell out of] my eyes." --Gunnar, April 26 FB update
    
15. "Mommy, is the house a disaster?" --Gunnar (though I failed to say so), Feb. 5 on FB
    
16. "Eat this. Your body will turn it into poop."--that'd be me, discovering the inner-workings of my little boy's mind, Jan. 4 on FB
    

Who said dat?! Two prizes up for grabs!

I believe somebody said something about a break from the seriousness around here game/contest/giveaway... Oh, yeah. Me.

Okay, well, let's see how well you've been paying attention to the other Spawnocalypse voices (they're not just in my head anymore!).

The rules are simple. Tell me, by email to deb[at]spawnocalypse[dot]com, who uttered the following remarks, with extra credit if you can identify the post or context. Put "Out of the mouths of babes" in the subject line. Comments will be closed to avoid any inadvertent public posting of answers.

Don't forget that some of the quotes may come from the Spawnocalypse Facebook page rather than the blog. You don't have to "like" the page to access the answers, but this should still give my most loyal readers an edge. If you read even somewhat regularly, most of these should be a snap.

Okay, go!

What? There was a prize mentioned? Oh, you are good.

The first-prize winner--who sends me the most correct answers and follows directions--will receive a $50 American Express gift card to spend on whatever his or her heart desires. Sorry, Brian, family members are not eligible. One runner up will snag a $25 card.

Ties for first or second place will be broken by random drawing. Entry deadline is 10 p.m. Eastern this Sunday, May 9. Winners will be notified by email. Be sure to add my address to your contacts so it doesn't get exiled as spam.

Happy early Mother's Day and good luck!

1. “You are a walking, talking Post-It.”
2. “Hold me, Mommy. I’m-a-scared of the mean lady.”
3. "Dis. My. Mommy."
4. "No, no, honey! You don't want to aspire to be a grocery store worker. You have to shoot higher."
5. "I need medicine for my face. It not feel good."
6. "Mommy's belly silly!"
7. "My belly huwt. KISS IT. NOW."
8. "Good mawning, Mommy. I wahnt-a FOOD."
9. “Oh, no! I LOST MY BODY!”
10. “I washin’ my pirates.”
11. "Happy Ween!" "Twick or tweet?"
12. "I wanna eat Gwampa's house!"
13. "This counter has been clear for 7 days."
14. "I'm not tired, I'm just warmin' up [rubbing the hell out of] my eyes."
15. "Mommy, is the house a disaster?"
16. "Eat this. Your body will turn it into poop."

Birthday season continues

On a Sunday night one year ago, after hours spent contemplating the perfect name, Spawnocalypse was born.

Despite the cons of picking said name, which is hard to pronounce, harder to spell, and lands way, way toward the end of blog directories, I just renewed the domain for another year. And I may very well stick around the blogosphere for many more.

At the moment, that's the extent of my celebration. On the heels of some other major partying around here, the one-year anniversary of this post snuck up on me, and I didn't plan a giveaway or so much as a special post.

But the milestone is worth acknowledging. Sort of like the day I realized we'd kept Gunnar in one piece for an entire year, I'm fairly astonished that I keep finding things to write about--and that you guys keep taking time from your busy lives to read and interact.

Some time soon, after we officially celebrate Annie turning two and six years of wedded somethingorother, I will hold a special event to thank you. It will involve a prize and a series of clues embedded in upcoming posts. Let's pretend I have it all planned out and am just building suspense... Stay tuned for details!

Am I a Scary Mommy?

In the words of the original Scary Mommy:

What is a Scary Mommy, you ask? I believe a Scary Mommy is a mother who doesn’t leave the house wearing lipstick at all times. A Scary Mommy loves her kids to death, but will admit to feeling totally overwhelmed and exhausted by the gig. A Scary Mommy doesn’t really care what other people think, and a Scary Mommy thinks that all mothers win when we admit our weaknesses.

Jill (aka Scary Mommy) has invited the rest of us mom bloggers to explain why we fit this description. And the most convincing Scary Mommy wins a very exciting prize!

If you're familiar with this blog or have spent any time with my family, you know that I was born (edit: not initially, but upon becoming a mom) to dominate this contest.

Before having kids, I was as unassuming as they get. If you wanted to pay the old Deb $10,000 less than she deserved, she'd accept with a smile. Wanted to beat her in a race? She'd move aside and usher you right on by. Steal her boyfriend? Obviously, you were prettier and more interesting.

But sometime between the two hours of pushing and two days of sobbing (the baby's and mine) after my firstborn son and I left that penitentiary of supervised pooping hospital, I got Scary.

Brian went back to work about a week after Gunnar--our beautiful boy who wailed nearly every moment he wasn't eating or sleeping--was born. Once I was on my own, I quickly discovered that the motion and fresh air of the stroller was pretty much the only way to soothe the baby once his other needs were met.

So, for most days of my maternity leave, once baby Gunnar had been fed and begun feeling the burn of his untreated reflux (due to jackass doctor, who I eventually dumped), I'd throw on the same sweats, slip-on sneakers, and a fresh sanitary pad that turned to an ice pack when punched, and push newborn Gunny around and around the cemetery until I almost had to call Graco for a set of replacement wheels.

Once nighttime finally came, Brian (Scary Dad!) and I would take shifts staying up to continuously restart the music and vibrations of Gunny's bouncy chair--the only other place he'd sleep besides the stroller (until he got hooked on sleeping on his belly, another jackass-doctor-related debacle I'll tell you about sometime).

When my return to work mercifully rolled around, I successfully negotiated a flexible, part-time schedule. I gave any coworker complaining about being tired from being out partying the night before the most contemptuous glare known to humankind.

I learned to live without a guaranteed daily shower and to shop the aisles for foods that could be eaten with one hand. I was sleepless and often cried over the loss of my former, care-free (wasn't it?) life.

But no matter what he put me through, I loved my little boy.

* * *

However, none of that is what makes me a Scary Mommy. The real reason I should win is because I was crazy enough to get pregnant with my daughter when my colicky firstborn was just four months old.