How I stop the insanity, or at least keep it at bay.

So now that I've bid you all a temporary adieu...I'm baaaack. So, I guess maybe I'll do like one post a month or something. Whatever. So if you're a follower do you get an email saying that there's a new post? Anyways, I just wanted to say THANK GOD for my Kindle! It's one of the best purchases I've made (well, in a long time). Since I'm nursing and forced to sit with my boob(s) hangin' out all the time it has been a sanity saver. I can't watch TV because my other kids will watch whatever is on - even inappropriate things like "Bring It On." So, unless I want to constantly watch Wow Wow Wubbzy then the only thing I have left to do is read. I think I have read 7 books since I had BG3 (baby girl 3). And since I live in a small town in the middle of nowhere this would not be possible without my Kindle. The only bookstore we have is the endcap in Hy-Vee and half an aisle in KMart. So Amazon.com, there's my plug.

ps. if you don't know what a Kindle is it's an electronic hand-held reader. Get with the times!

It's not goodbye...not really

Okay, here's the deal. I just had a baby...like a week ago. So, I'm letting my 2 readers know that I will most likely be taking a hiatus from my blog. You might have already noticed the postings have slowed to a mere trickle these past couple of months. I apologize for that but I was so tired and all I could focus on was getting ready for baby - nothing that any of you would have found interesting I am sure. My husband hasn't done too much recently to piss me off so no blog material there either. And as you know I prefer to not blog about kid-related issues. However I might have to break that rule since my brain will only allow me to think about baby baby baby (damn hormones). Fear not, after a few months I'm sure I'll start noticing more tedious things that I feel the need to blog about - like this one person whom I have tried to always be friendly towards and she just doesn't seem to feel the need to reciprocate. It's very awkward - I am constantly wondering "Do I still need to wave? Do a head nod of acknowledgement? Or is it just more comfortable for her if I pretend not to see her?" I really just want to say "Listen, I get that you don't really like me and I'm fine with that. I'm not out to win any popular votes and I don't feel the need to be friends with everyone. However, I do think it's common courtesy to acknowledge people that you know in some small way. So from now on let's make eye contact, say "hey" and get on with it." I mean most of the time I do that with strangers (it is Iowa, land of friendly people) so I'm thinking that's the least I can do for someone I actually know. But I digress...

If you don't hear from me for a while you'll understand. And if you don't then you've obviously never had a child or you are a man.

I heart Jake Ryan

So I just turned on my TV and caught the end of Sixteen Candles. You know, the part where she's at the church, the car pulls away, and there's Jake Ryan (cue cool 80s song). I gotta say - that guy is still smokin' HOT, sweater vest and all. He's timeless I tell you. I would totally hop on that and ride it home - even 20 years later.

Allen Becker wants to be my friend. Who TF is Allen Becker?

I can't remember if I blogged about this before and I'm too lazy to go back and check, so if this is a repeat I apologize. Actually, I take that back. I don't care if I'm repeating myself. You don't have to read it.

Facebook.
I am a member. I can't decide if I like it or not. I rarely check it, only if I get an email saying somebody left me a message, whatever. What I don't like is all the extra crap - quizzes, green badges, blah blah blah. I also don't get it when somebody wants to be my friend on facebook and I don't know the person. What? Do they just randomly send out friend requests? I don't get it. I also don't get people sending me friend requests who I might have known (like people from high school that weren't in my class and never said more than two words to me). Is there some sort of friend competition - the one with the most friends is the coolest? Honestly, I don't want to be "friends" with all these random people. I don't care what they're doing. I don't need to network. Is that why these people feel the need to send out friend requests to anybody they might have known in their entire lives - networking? Am I weird for not wanting to be Facebook friends with everybody? I have had one cool thing happen from joining Facebook - hearing from an old high school boyfriend. He was my first long-term relationship (more than a year in high school is considered long term I think) and my first in other things as well (hint hint). So it was fun to hear from him and learn that he's married, just had a baby, etc. Plus it's not like I had a whole lot of other past relationships with men - I started dating TGD soon after I broke up with "my first" (cuz it was just meant to be, but that's fodder for another post).

Learn something new, it's good for ya

If you want to learn more about Halloween (and you all should because we need more smart, informed people in the world) then check out the History channel's site - www.history.com.

Hallo-weiners

So I got a note from my daughter's school saying that this year they're going to be having a "Fall Festival" instead of the traditional Halloween party, because this way all the students can participate. Apparently, in the past, some parents didn't want their kids participating in any Halloween festivities (you know, due to the satanic rituals) so the "Fall Festival" is the school's way of making sure all the kids can join in the fun. It's like having "winter break" instead of "Christmas break." I get it and I'm sure it will be fine - but part of me thinks this is completely ridiculous and I'm a little upset the kids won't get to have costume parties. If these idiots would actually do the research on WHY and HOW we came to celebrate Halloween maybe they wouldn't have such a problem with it.

Trying to make an informed decision

I wasn't going to watch the presidential debate tonight. I watched the last one and I regret those two hours of my life I'll never get back. I hate politics - I really really do. However, I do think it's important to care about what's going on, try to be somewhat informed, yada yada yada. Anyways, TGD had the debate on while I was working on the laptop so I got sucked into it. Mostly they say the same thing over and over again. What I'd like to know is how do you pick a candidate when they cater to the extreme left and right? I consider myself a "middle ground" person - neither super liberal nor conservative. Where's my candidate? Ralph Nader? That's it? See, this is why most of the time I don't get involved. I'm disillusioned with the whole political process, that and it seems like the people that are gung-ho are too extreme, unwilling to hear anything the other side has to say. The whole thing just drives me nuts.

Look out, I'm on my damn soapbox.

I'm really fed up with the Kinder-whore outfits they have on sale for Halloween. WTF is WRONG with people that they would actually let their child wear something like that?! No, it's not cute to dress your elementary student in a little goth cheerleader outfit, complete with fishnet stockings and hooker boots. Really, what are we teaching our kids when we allow that? "Go ahead honey, exploit and objectify yourself." And then we act all shocked when we find out middle schoolers are performing oral sex on one another? Connect the friggin' dots. And oh yes, let's do buy a bunch of magazines with half-naked airbrushed models on them to lay around the house for our kids to see. After all, we want them to know that THAT is the standard to be measured up to - that's what women should look like - a bunch of stick thin sex objects. And don't forget that our sons are seeing it as well. So what do you think they're going to think of girls when they get bigger? Do you think that's teaching them respect? Yes, all those pop and hip-hop "artists" are so respectful to women - especially in the videos. Wake the hell up America! It's up to us to teach our kids about modesty, respect, self-esteem, relationships, and sex. Pretty impossible when they are bombarded by inappropriate media images and messages. Those companies know what they are doing - they've done the research. Sex sells, so they sell it at a younger and younger age.

Why the diatribe, you ask? No, I'm not some bible preaching conservative whack job (quite the opposite really). I read a book that opened my eyes - "So Sexy, So soon."
www.sosexysosoon.com
Buy it, read it, live it. Your children will be better off because of it.

Oprah and introspection

Lately I've been watching Oprah. I don't know why - boredom I guess. I used to watch it quite a bit and then quit, mostly because I got sick of all the commercials (no wonder she makes so much freaking money) and I started reading more (smut). Anyways, I happened to catch some of her two part series of "Why Husbands Cheat." She had the guy who wrote the book on the show, whom I actually like (he also did some work on divorce and kids). I think he's very smart and objective - so I was interested in what he had to say. He said the number one reason that men listed for having an affair was lack of appreciation at home. Of course, like many women, I immediately was like "WTF? Geez, the damn babies! I gotta take care of my kids AND pat my husband on the head too?! What about MY appreciation? Where the hell is that?!" But, I realized that it really wasn't a big deal and it actually makes a lot of sense. I don't often tell TGD what a good job he's doing, or what a great dad he is, or thank him for doing things around the house. Instead I point out things that aren't done, things that are done wrong, things that he should be doing more of (like staying home with the kids). And you know, I think men in general have fragile egos - more so than women (cuz we're tough shit). Not that there's anything wrong with that - I think it's how they're wired. So why is it so hard for me to show appreciation - to say thanks? Part of me thinks if I start doing that then he'll start slacking off - like "oh, I'm doing a great job so I deserve to play some more golf." I know that's dumb. And I know it makes sense that by showing him more appreciation then he most likely will respond positively and appreciate me more in turn. That's the theory anyways. But it's gotten to the point that I don't even know how to say "thank you." For example, the other night TGD arranged for us to go out to dinner and a movie - even called the sitter (a couple of them), and invited some other friends to join us. So I'm feeling pretty happy with him for taking that initiative and getting me out of the house (I've been in kind of a shlump lately). I was feeling pretty good all day, thinking loving thoughts, and how I'm going to be sure to thank him and show my appreciation. But we get home, after having a nice time (even though I locked my keys in the car, which created some tension early on in the evening), and I'm sitting on the couch thinking "just say it. Say thanks. Tell him he's a good husband." It took me probably 30 minutes before I just blurted out "hey, thanks for arranging all that tonight. I really needed to get out of the house." Now, why was that so hard? I felt like I was back in middle school again trying to get up the nerve to have my friend tell the friend of the boy that I liked that I liked him. It really made me think - "wow, this is the point that we've gotten to in our marriage. I'm not even comfortable giving him a compliment because I'm so used to just saying nothing, or telling him what he didn't do right." Part of it is my nature - I'm not "lovey-dovey." I don't like to snuggle, I'm not affectionate, I gag at sentimental cards, romantic gestures make me uncomfortable, basically I'm like a dude except I have boobs and like to shop. Even so, it's not like I have to get down on one knee and profess my undying love every time he does something nice - but a simple "thanks" shouldn't make me break out into a nervous sweat. So, this is something that I'm going to be working on. NOT because I think he'd end up having an affair, but because I think it would be good for our marriage - and we could really use that right now, what with me being a huge pregnant whale with our 3rd child and never wanting to have sex (and THANK YOU TGD for being so understanding and not pressuring me or saying hurtful comments). See, I'm trying.

Shit

Well, my 33 yr old sister has colon cancer and has to have chemotherapy treatments for 6 months. So maybe someday I'll feel like blogging something trivial and witty, but for now I just can't. Mostly all I can think these days is WTF? How does shit like this happen?

The dreaded sexpectation

Speaking of hotels and sex - what's the deal with the sexpectation there? (For those of you unfamiliar with my new term it means any time there's an expectation of sex). Like all of a sudden staying in a hotel is going to make me want to have sex. Actually, I'm thinking of all the gross things on that bedspread and mattress from OTHER people having sex on it. Yuck! And I realize sometimes it's the whole getting away thing - the kids aren't there, all the house crap isn't there, etc. And occasionally that will be sufficient to loosen me up enough to give in. But I hate the fact that it's just expected. Same things goes for vacations. I'm on vacation so that should automatically put me in the mood? How? Did my spouse all of a sudden become so hot I have to jump him? Or did I magically lose 10 lbs so I feel sexy? Is being on vacation or in a hotel some sort of foreplay that's supposed to be working it's mojo on me? And most husbands even have these sexpectations when the kids are there! Yes honey, trying to get it on with little Timmy sleeping 5 feet away is really working for me. I really enjoy constantly worrying about waking him up and explaining why mommy and daddy are "wrestling." And family vacations are SO relaxing, what with the screaming, fighting, trying to please everybody, packing, unpacking, laundry. That really gets my motor going. Actually, you know what WOULD get my motor going is a week away with my girlfriends to a relaxing spa where we're flirted with by the hot wait staff and Marco the massage therapist.

I've found, in discussing this with friends, that it's the expectation itself that is a HUGE turn-off. We automatically get irritated, which isn't conducive to intimacy. So there you have it men - quit with the sexpectations already. It's annoying and too reminiscent of teenage boys' mentality.

Pregnant sex. Eeeewwww!

My husband and I are going to be staying in a hotel this next weekend. We had originally planned to share it with another couple but those plans fell through so now it's just us. This of course leads my husband to say "so we can have hot sex." Now, I know he's kidding (mostly) because we don't have "hot sex." Plus, as I explained to him, at 30 weeks pregnant there's no such thing as "hot" sex, there's "pity sex," or "sympathy sex," or even "fine whatever just get it over with sex." If there's anyone out there having hot sex at 30 weeks pregnant that's just kind of gross. Now I know a lot of women get hornier later on in their pregnancies (that's because of the increased blood flow to the vaginal area - not because they all of a sudden feel hot and are extremely attracted to their spouse) but I still doubt they're having hot sex. It'd be more of a "shut up, don't talk, I just need a little relief" sex. And really, who would WANT to have hot sex with a pregnant woman in her 3rd trimester. Now, I don't want my husband to find me horribly repulsive because c'mon, it's his sperm that caused this whole fandango so he should at least think I look cute or have some sort of sacred Madonna like quality about me, but I would have to seriously question his sanity if he was looking at me and thinking "yeah, I just wanna hit that. Ooh baby." That's a little weird to me. I've heard there ARE some men who find pregnant women really attractive. I don't get it. I could see there being some sort of "that's right, I knocked her up. My boys can swim," manly pride thing going on. But finding me sexy right now? What's sexy? My huge stretch marks? My belly button sticking out? Oh, I know, it's my giant fat ass (stretch marks included on that as well). Or maybe the zits all over my face - so hot!

Apparently I don't say cheese

Okay, everytime I get on here (obviously not very often these days as evidenced by my non-posting) my picture really bugs me. So, I'm asking if there are any pictures out there of me actually smiling? Feel free to send it to me and I'll try to get my picture changed - and it has to be a decent picture - so nothing from 4 years ago when I was a fat ass. And no double/triple chin pictures please, I have enough of those (damn jowls). I would also prefer to be wearing make-up. Oh whatever, just find a picture of Kim Kardashian on the internet and I'll post that. That's what people would rather see anyways.

Birth control is for sissies....or really really smart people.

I'm pregnant again (for those of you living on another planet who haven't heard). I'm almost 27 weeks - so that's almost into my 3rd trimester. Can I just say that I really hate being pregnant? I don't enjoy any part of it. I remember going to a lamaze-type class when I was pregnant with my 1st child and we had to go around in a circle and say what we most enjoyed about our pregnancy. Of course I was first and had no time to think of anything so I said what popped into my head, which was "I like getting to eat more." Meanwhile the rest of the women said things like "I like feeling the baby move" and "I like the bonding feeling I'm already having with my unborn child," blah blah blah and more touchy-feely crap. I felt like a real schmuck. Needless to say I was a birthing class drop out soon after that. I didn't feel the need to watch videos of nasty hairy vaginas giving birth with the woman wailing in the background. I didn't plan to watch myself give birth so why would I want to watch a stranger? Yuck, no thanks. It's a gross process and the less I know the better. It helps that my husband is a doctor so I don't worry about things going wrong. I figure he'll know what to do, signs to look for, etc. Anyways, this pregnancy has been the worst of all of them so far, most of it having to do with the fact that I didn't WANT to be pregnant right now so I'm having a hard time with it. When I first found out I was extremely emotional and pissed off. And those people who were all "oh, but it's a blessing, blah blah blah" yeah, it took all my restraint to not haul off and beat the shit out of them. But, eventually I had to come to terms with it, and it's not like we didn't want another kid because we'd been planning on it...eventually. It just wasn't the best timing (I'd just had a kid not too long ago and JUST lost all the weight). Most of the time I'm fine with it, thinking now I'll just get it done with sooner and get my boob job before I'm 35. I still have moments when the rage comes back, most of it aimed at my husband and men in general. Then I just want to tell them all off, in graphic language, especially those idiots who like to make masochistic comments and think it's funny (they're usually found wearing a t-shirt that says "Shut up Princess and bring me a beer"). A word of warning to you assholes, don't be thinking to make comments like that around me right now or I am likely to go Lorena Bobbitt on your ass and seperate you from your dick.

Anger issues? Me? Nah.

Some rules for owl eyes

Okay men, listen up. Quit staring! Learn how to glance surrepticiously! You know, casually look around the room like you're looking for something or someone, not letting your gaze rest on the blonde with big knockers for more than a second. Trust me, it can be done. That's how us women check out the hot guys. See, there's a few problems with staring: 1) if you're a single guy checking out a girl it's too obvious, and unless you're really good looking (and let's be honest here), it starts to get creepy and unnerving. Women can always tell when a man is staring at her, even if her back is turned (it's an itchy feeling we get between the shoulder blades). So if she's not turning around to make some eye contact that's your cue that she's purposely ignoring you and you need to STOP staring (unless you want her to think you're a serial killer). Now, married women are similar but we're a little less picky. If I get checked out (a 4 second stare max before it heads into the creepy zone) or whistled at (rarely happens, but you know) I get a little ego boost for the day, and I don't really care if the guy is good looking, decent, whatever. However, if I'm with my kids DO NOT stare, whistle, or cat call! That is just awkward and extremely icky. Just let me be a mom and take care of my kids without thinking you're looking at my ass every time I lean over to pick up my toddler (unless you're Mark Wahlberg, then feel free to ogle me whenever, wherever).

2) (the biggie) if you're a married man out with your spouse it is insulting (to your wife) to stare at another woman. I know it's hard, you're eating dinner, trying to listen to your wife talk about stuff you don't care about, and suddenly Big Boobs Barbie comes walking in your line of view. You don't even realize you're doing it but trust me, your wife can tell when you're eyes start following BBB across the room. It might not feel that long, maybe less than 5 seconds, but trust me, to your wife and to BBB it feels like slow motion. Because that little bimbo can tell that you're staring - and that's why it's hurtful to your wife. We know that little tramp over there is feeling sorry for us, and that just pisses us off. We married you, we live with you and put up with all your crap, we birthed your kids, at least let us have some dignity and pretend that you're paying attention to us and not Hootie McHooterson! See, this is where the "glancing surrepticiously" comes into play. You get to still check out Hooters (because I know it's impossible for you NOT to look) and I get to keep my pride and not let that little bimbo think that I can't even hold my own husband's attention. Plus later, if we decide to get freaky, I'm not worried that you're actually thinking about Hootie and her perfect breasts (even though you probably are, I just don't need to know about it, just like you don't need to know about Marky Mark, hehe).

I know, I'm dumb

One of my front teeth is more yellow and duller than the rest of my teeth. I'm sure I'm the only one who notices this (or I was until I announced it to everyone reading this blog who will be looking for it next time they see me). It' s such a little thing but it bugs me every time I brush my teeth or see a picture of myself. I try to spend a little extra time brushing that area but it doesn't do anything. I've also tried white strips and the teeth tray things but that doesn't even it out. Do you think there is some sort of laser treatment for just one tooth? I wonder how much that would cost. It's so dumb, I know it. I blame society for my dumb insecurities. If I didn't have to constantly look at pictures of Jessica Alba and her perfect teeth maybe I wouldn't feel so bad about mine. It's Maxim's fault.

blowing off some steam

There are a lot of days when I hate my husband's job. Today is one of them. I hate the hours, the call schedule, the lack of dependability, the stress (both his and mine), the stupid idiots that decide they need to visit the ER in the middle of the night because their leg hurts (even though it's been hurting for the last week and they could have made an appt and come into the clinic but because they're title 19 and don't have to pay for shit they don't care when they come in). I don't like feeling like a single parent. I can't be with my kids 24/7 and not start to go a little crazy (or a lot crazy). So would everyone please just stop getting sick and hurting yourselves?! That would be a huge help, thanks.

Another episode of "Em's various rants," brought to you by Tampax.

Apparently I can no longer do jumping jacks without peeing my pants. I discovered this new development in aerobics class today. No matter how hard I squeezed those kegels the pee still dripped out. I found the only thing that helped was not breathing, which is actually quite difficult when executing a series of jumping jacks. I'm scared to think of what it will be like in another 10 years. My kids will all be getting out of diapers and I'll be getting into them. I'm doomed to forever be buying diapers at the grocery store. I'm just hoping at that point it won't be of the "Oops I crapped my pants" variety.

I wish I were one of those people who hated chocolate and never ordered dessert. You know the type (I've referred to them often as "skinny bitches"). And yeah, I'm by no means really heavy but I have to bust my ASS to be a size 8/10 and I constantly crave sweets. It would be so easy to just be home, watching TV, tra la la, not thinking about food or wanting anything, do dee do. Instead I'm here thinking "I want chocolate, I want chocolate, I want chocolate, time to get the kids to bed, mmm bake some cookies, check my email, wonder if I have any cake mix in the pantry, this show is dumb, dammit I can't stand it!" Which is when I break down and get out the ol' reliable chocolate chips and peanut butter.


Okay, people doing meth - do they not realize that everyone can tell because they have meth mouth? It's so obvious! Dude, you're 30 and half your teeth are gone. Now, unless you are some native american living in the Amazon jungle and have no access to dental care I'm going to assume that it's not caused by natural means. And most of the time even those guys have better teeth than the idiots doing meth.

And to conclude this evening's episode of "Em's various rants" can I just say that it's great when people give you compliments on your appearance. However, my neurotic mind goes "wait a minute, what the heck did you think I looked like before? A hideous whale with bad hair?" I had one gal tell me at a party the other day (I don't see this person often, maybe a couple times a year) "You look good, like seriously, the best I've ever seen you. I've never seen you look this good. You're face is really thin." So taking that at face value it's a very nice compliment (and yes, I did thank her, I do have some manners). But the more I thought about it the more I thought she was a little too effusive about me never looking this good before. I wanted to say, "Look, I get it. I was a mess, probably should have just thrown a sack over my head just to spare everyone the agony of having to look at my awfulness. Aren't we all so lucky I lost a few pounds so you can all breathe a sigh of relief."

m.y.o.b

A friend told me something the other day about some bitch saying something about my parenting skills. It wasn't a positive comment but it wasn't horrible either. In any case I got a little pissed off and the rest of the day had worked up a good rant to post but never got around to it. And it would have been a good one too - I'm usually at my best when I'm ticked off and not thinking about what I say so much (strange, but true). So, here I am, a couple of days later and I've mellowed out about the whole thing. Really, the comment wasn't that bad and it's so not that big of a deal because I could give two flying frigs about what this particular woman has to say about my parenting skills. I don't beat my kids or swear at them and I don't take them to WalMart at 10 o'clock at night. That's all any of you need to know.

The french waitress uniform doesn't exist, but these do...

Like it usually does, the last post led me to this one. Uniforms: hot or not hot? I myself find army fatigues very VERY hot - like way up there on the hot-ometer. Sailor uniforms however, not too hot. Marine dress uniform - iffy I think. Air force - dress uniform and the jumpsuit thing - smokin' hot (blame it on Top Gun). Firefighter overalls/boots outfit - obviously hot or they wouldn't sell calendars of firefighters. Many a fantasy have those guys playing the lead. Cops on the other hand - sorry but those police blues are just not hot. Plus they gotta wear that belt with all the gadgets and that just adds more bulk. Same goes with State Patrol. Sorry fellas, I know you didn't pick the outfits.

Of course you could get into all the non-government jobs that require uniforms - like doctors, nurses, cafeteria workers, waiters, etc. But that would take forever I think. For the most part I think the majority of those types of uniforms are definitely not hot. I can say with certainty that my uniform as a nursing home dietary aide was NOT HOT - like negative values on the hotness meter. The hair net and required apron were especially bad, and quite mortifying the one time my boss' son, a boy in my high school class, came to pay her a visit at work and caught me in all my netted glory.

I do think TGD looks pretty damn fine in scrubs though. Fortunately he doesn't have to wear a hair net or a shower cap every day.

Officer Friendly

Well, I got a speeding ticket today. My first time being pulled over since college. It was legit - I was speeding, or at least I'm pretty sure I was because I was in a hurry to pick up my kid and not paying attention to how fast I was going (pretty fast apparently). The most embarassing part was that I have no idea when he started following me with the lights on. I had pulled through a busy intersection and was just thinking about getting to where I needed to go when I heard the sirens and noticed he was right behind me. I ended up pulling over in the parking lot where I was picking up my child so he parked right next to me - lights still going (I thought that was a little much) and all my friends and everybody else picking up their kids got to see me get a ticket. Awesome. I felt so cool. Yep, that's me - Em the law breaker.

I wanna be a pack leader.

I am officially a "Dog Whisperer" addict. I can't turn that damn show off! I will watch it for HOURS. And yes, at certain hormonally charged times I have been known to shed a tear while watching it. I'll also admit to having a slight crush on Cesar. All that calm assertive confidence is hot, and I love it when he does his dog impersonations. The guy is frickin' amazing and he likes to hold babies. What's not to like? If he was having some sort of seminar or book signing someplace relatively close I would so go. I know this is weird, but in true That's Whack form I thought I should share it.

Marriage is great!

We all have our annoying habits that drive our spouses crazy. If I asked TGD about mine I think I could tell you his response, well, besides the fact that we don't have sex as often as he'd like - but I think we can all agree that that answer would be #1 for most husbands (besides the guys a couple of my friends are married to. They don't know how good they have it.). No, I think mine would be the fact that I don't change the toilet paper roll when it runs out. I just set the new one next to the toilet or on the tank and leave the empty cardboard roll on. Yes, I am that lazy. It drives TGD nuts, but so does the way he "picks up" toys. So I guess we're even.

You say it's your birthday? Big deal.

It was my birfday last Wednesday. I'm finally 27. I feel so old, I mean I'm almost 30! Anyways, it was a weird day and I'm still trying to decide if it was a "good" birthday (people always ask that - "did you have a good birthday?") What does that mean? So here's my analysis and you can decide for yourself:

Good: I found a dozen peach roses at my doorstop when I got back from teaching aerobics - from my secret lover (I'm having an affair with TGD but don't tell anyone).
My sister called and wished me a happy birthday, which was thoughtful (they had already given me my gifts the weekend before).
Some friends stopped by and had made me a cake (which was delicious and uber-nice).
Got a couple e-cards from some out-of-town friends.
Was able to arrange a night out to dinner with friends, who paid for my meal.
A good friend surprised me with a Subway gift card - which sounds weird but was actually a perfect gift for me.
Another really good friend had her baby that morning, although they didn't name it after me, which should be a requirement I think.

Bad: My husband was gone fishing in Canada for the week so it was just me and the kids.
The weather turned really crappy when we went to dinner so I spent the whole time worried about my kids and feeling guilty for dragging my friends out on such an awful night (think tornadoes everywhere).

Looks like there were more good things than bad so I guess I did have a "good" birthday. I think anymore it's just a day, but the little kid in me still wants to feel a little bit special on that day and I just didn't get that feeling so much this year. Maybe it's age (or narcissm), but that's depressing.

I'm a mess

Awhile back I had this friend (we're still friends now, I hope, but we no longer live near one another and have both gotten busy with life - you know how it goes) and we spent quite a bit of time together. Her house was always fairly messy - not dirty, but full of stuff and clutter. Now, to give her credit she had 2 kids and added a third when we still lived nearby. Meanwhile, I only had my one small child with whom I was able to keep up with mess-wise. But I remember thinking about how she wasn't ever embarassed about the state of her house while I freaked out if there were dishes on the counter and company was coming over (that comes from having a neat freak mother). And I think she even said once that she and her husband would rather do other things besides clean all the time (and I probably thought some catty thought about how they could do both, because that's the kind of bitch I am). However, now that I am older, much wiser, not nearly as catty (most of the time), and have two kids running around whom I can NOT keep up with I totally get where she was coming from. My house is a disaster - all the time, and the kicker is instead of picking it up I'd rather sit my butt on the couch and check my email (or read, take a nap, or do various other lazy activities). That doesn't mean I don't look around sometimes and think "Holy crap! This house looks like shit and smells worse." Seriously, most of the time it's so bad that if unexpected company were to drop by I'd probably have to make up a story about how we're "reorganizing" things and the dishwasher is broken. But I'd still rather play outside, read a book, and have a messy house than the opposite. And for all of you unexpected visitors out there, feel free to stop by every other Tuesday after my cleaning lady has paid a visit.

peep show

My last post led my thoughts to this one: A few years ago an acquaintance of my husband (nobody from this town busybodies, so quit guessing) mentioned that he wondered if women knew that their shirts gaped open when they leaned over to pick up their kids. My husband told me this because the guy was a person who I frequently saw with my kids (he was in my playdate group as a stay home dad), so I don't know if TGD was trying to warn me or just letting me know the perv might be looking down my shirt. Now, I am one to wear lower cut things. What can I say, I look better in scoop or V-neck tops. Crew cuts make my face look fat (I have large jowls and a short neck). I told TGD that I wasn't going to change what I wore just because some jerk was checking out the show when I bent over to pick up my kids (or pick up whatever they dropped). I wear a bra, so what's the most he's going to see - a little cleavage and probably my gut. Not real hot if you ask me. Not enough to give anyone any major thrills anyways (and if it is then they are REALLY desperate, which might have been the case with pervy dad-dude).

soft cups are crap

Yesterday was our first day at the pool, so of course I had to dig out my swimsuits and see what fit. Unfortunately the bikini I bought back in February wasn't looking so good so I had to put on my "mom suit" from my last fatty summer. I've already discussed the whole mom suit issue so I'm not getting into that but there is something I haven't touched on - the lack of boob support in swimsuits, especially mom suits. I mean, just when we need it the most there seems to be less padding. I'm sorry, but the whole "soft-cup" bra is a joke. Why don't they call it what it is - a liner so your nipples don't show (which is good so people don't wonder why my stomach has nipples). I need lift! I need something that will keep my breasts from flopping out to the sides and maybe give me some nice cleavage! I think it goes back to the whole "I'm a mom and therefore need to hide as much as my sacred body as possible" thing. Heaven forbid I actually feel attractive while watching my children!

Heaving bosoms

" I'm coming out, I want the world to know I've got to let it show." Good song. And no, I'm not secretly a lesbian. I can't even watch most porn because there's always the scene with the chicks gettin' it on and it totally squeams me out (not that I have a problem with lesbians, bi, whatever. I just don't need a front seat to the action is all). There's been times when I thought it might be somewhat advantageous to be a lesbian - I mean, you'd get to live with someone who understands you (and speaks Venusian instead of Martian). Honestly, I came up with a lot of good ideas to put in the advantages column, but of course the two glaring reasons why I couldn't be a lesbian (the fact that I am totally not attracted to girls, even the hot ones, and I wouldn't want to deal with all the emotional crap we women bring to the table) overruled all those other things. I may complain about living with a man (a lot), but it's nothing compared to my horror stories of living with my college roommates (that's fodder for a whole other blog). Anyways, I'm off track - this post was originally supposed to be about my love of romance novels. I'm tired of hiding it! I don't read anything unless there is a love story involved (and it needs to be the main plot, not a little side note). Yep, I have all those books with embarassing covers and titles - although the covers have improved mightily over the years, no more pictures with what's-his-butt (butter commercial guy) on them. Speaking of which, what's the deal with the heros all having long hair? Are most romance readers into that? Whenever they start describing "shoulder length hair" I have to skip over it and imagine he really had a haircut. Hair is very important to me. Off topic again...I don't know why I have been embarassed to admit my preference in literature - because it's somehow trashy? I still find myself hiding the covers of my books and skirting the question "so what are you reading?" I usually tell people "chick lit" because that can mean various things and they'll accept it and leave me alone. I know I listed romance novels on my "guilty pleasures" list so I haven't quite kept it a secret, but I just wanted to put it out there so it's not such a "guilty" thing. And just to clarify - yes, most of the time there are sex scenes, just like in a romantic movie, and I like those parts too. Think of me what you will.

blah blah blah I'm tired

I'm sorry for all you loyal readers out there - I have been majorly slacking this month on the posts. Blame it on my terrible toddler or this suck-ass cold I have, but my brain hasn't been capable of anything witty lately and I refuse to just get on here and be boring. Oh, oops, too late for that one huh? Seriously, my kids have eaten up this month and you all know I try REALLY hard to NOT blog about my kids, so therefore I have little to say right now because I haven't had a lot of downtime to ponder anything more significant than what channel to watch on TV.

TGD, my hero

So every once in awhile I have to give TGD major props, because I know I complain a lot (hello, I am married) but he really is a fantastic husband and father. Case in point: last week when my entire family was struck down with the flu. Not only did TGD take time off of work to help me take care of the kids but he then had to take even more time off to take care of ME and the kids when I got sick. And I gotta tell ya, I am not an easy patient. I do not do "sick" well. I'm whiny and very needy, plus I have a tendency to pass out while puking which makes a big mess and is sort of dangerous. We discovered this a few years ago when TGD found me lying in a pool of vomit (which he cleaned up) with my mouth open, still puking but totally passed out. So since then whenever I have to go to the bathroom he has to accompany me and literally hold me over the toilet to support me if I pass out. So combine that with having to take care of clingy kids and you'll get an idea of what an amazing guy he is. And he didn't just "get by" because while he was taking care of everybody he was also doing laundry and cleaning everything - more than once. The list could go on and on as to everything he actually did but I think you get the point. It's times like those that remind me how lucky I really am. It's why if we ever got a divorce (which will never happen because I'm not a fool) I think my mother would probably disown me and officially adopt him.

Signs I am getting old

I don't get boys wearing their pants so low half their butt hangs out. How is that supposed to be attractive to girls? Mostly I start to think in terms of gravity "how in the heck do they not fall down?" And boxer shorts aren't cute, they're usually kinda wrinkly and smelly. Is it a status symbol that I don't get? I thought showing your boxers went out of style when Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch broke up. I wonder if this is how parents of the '50s felt when bell-bottom pants and leisure suits came out.

Speaking of bell-bottoms, the shaggy hair is also annoying me. Didn't these kids see pictures of their parents from the '70s and think "that looks ridiculous?" I'll admit, on some guys longer hair looks good, but if you've got any wave or curl it's gonna turn into an afro and the only one pulling that off these days is Carrot Top - and that's only because it's part of his image.

Can I please go dancing someplace in Iowa that does NOT just play thug music? I mean really, we live in IOWA for crying out loud. I'll admit, some of it has a decent beat but it's all the same misogynistic crap. There is other music out there! Can we have some variety? Maybe it's just me because there are certainly enough girls on the dance floor shaking their junk to all the crap being played.

For the record I HATE the song "Crazy Bitch."

From nubile college co-ed to Daddy's little girl: one father's epiphany

So my sister and bro-in-law came over last night to visit and we were watching some comedian on the comedy channel (can't remember his name but he was good and no, he wasn't part of the red-neck comedy tour). Anyways, every single commercial break consisted of promos for "Girls Gone Wild" videos. Now I hate those dumb things mostly because I don't like to see women degrading themselves for some cheap, pervy old men (I mean, if they're gonna do something like that at least go professional and get paid for it) and the fact that they consist of young stupid college girls who are too egocentric to realize what they're doing and how they'll probably regret it in the near future. I think if you're gonna get drunk and flash your boobs at least have the common sense to NOT do it on film so some stranger can make millions of copies and sell it. But I'm off topic - so we're watching this commercial (I was patiently waiting for TGD to turn the channel but he was taking his time) and we were commenting about the whole "Girls Gone Wild" phenomena and my bro-in-law says they should call it "A Father's Worst Nightmare." TGD, being a father of two daughters, then immediately changes the channel (finally!) and I said to him, "you're never going to be able to watch that commercial again, are you." He said, "nope."
Sure enough, the rest of the evening anytime that commercial came on the channel was quickly changed, with no prompting from me.

Mama bear said "Someone's been crapping in my yard!"

Okay, what's the deal with all the dogs running around and crapping in my yard?! It's pissing me off. Everytime I take the kids out to play (yes, I do actually interact with my children on occasion) I notice that there is more poo that could not possibly all come from my dog (a small terrier doesn't produce giant doody). It's gotten to the point that I want to install some spy cameras around the house to figure out whose dog is the mystery shitter, if only so I can pick up the poop and leave a big steaming pile of it on the offensive pet owner's lawn. A friend suggested that I pull a Jim Carrey and just take a giant dookey on their lawn myself (Me, Myself, and Irene style). Not to worry all you people still reading this blog who don't "get it." That was a joke.

It's called sarcasm. I enjoy it.

Here's a way to determine if you are the type of person who should be reading this blog: Go rent "Juno" and if you don't think it is extremely funny and well-written than this blog is NOT for you. Stick with watching "monkey sex" on YouTube.

We agree that as a race they're rather stu-pid.

Is anybody else singing the song from "Mary Poppins" after reading the last post?

Cast off the shackels of yesterday!
Shoulder to shoulder into the fray!
Our daughter's daughter will adore us,
And they'll sing in grateful chorus...
Well Done,
Sister Suffragette!

Well if you weren't before, you're singing it now (unless you don't know this song, in which case you need to watch Mary Poppins asap because you obviously didn't get to see it enough in your childhood in order to memorize all the songs).

Not a "yes dear" kind of gal

I told TGD the other day that I think I was either a suffragette or a 60s bra burner in a former life. Why else would I have such a strong feminist mindset? My mom and Grandma were both fairly strong-willed women so maybe some of it is inherited. They both stayed home with the kids (although both also worked at times before and after having kids) and both did the majority of the cooking and cleaning ("women's work") around the house, well, when not using their kids for child labor (just kidding, we got an allowance for chores so it was a fair deal). But they still managed to not be "yes dear" types of women. They were in charge. It also helped that my Dad loves babies so he was usually willing to watch us kids (which was fun for us because it meant we got to have dinner out). Looking back through some of my posts I realize I come off as kind of a ball-buster, but the truth is I kind of AM a ball-buster. I don't think that just because my husband earns the income I should be in charge of everything else. I stay home to take care of my kids because I want to be in charge of their day to day activities, not because I love cooking and cleaning. Why that seems to become part of my job description is puzzling to me. It's not like I have a lot of time during my day with the kids to clean the house, do laundry, and cook meals. I'm usually busy taking kids places, keeping them entertained, maintaining sibling harmony, feeding them, etc. So I really don't get those women who take up that mantle of "housewife" and don't have a problem with it. A lot of women I've talked to will say it's because their husbands don't know how to do anything (which is true) so they just do it themselves. I think that is a total cop out! I think men KNOW this about their wives and use it to their advantage. But what really burns my butter is hearing about the husband that's never home, never helps out with the kids, etc. I'm thinking to myself, "okay, so do something about it." But the thing is (and my sister has to keep reminding me of this), is that some women are generally okay with that situation. WHAT?! I'm so puzzled by this behavior, but I see it all the time. So it makes me wonder, am I so different from everybody? Honestly I've always been that way with guys - in fact I think if one inquired a lot of boys from my graduating class would have said I was a bitch. Which if by "bitch" they meant someone who wouldn't take their teasing bullshit or be talked down to like I was some stupid ho then I gladly accept the title. Maybe that's why I don't ever get hit on the rare times I go out. I have a "don't even try it" vibe that clings to me, a general mistrust of male intentions. It's just who I am.

Singing the man's blues

Well that last post seemed to strike a nerve (or several). Now it's time to bitch some more - this time about how husbands are lucky and they don't even know it. I think most men would say (to other guys) that once they get married their sex life becomes non-existent or close to it. This bugs me because when compared to a single man's sex life I think our spouses have it pretty good. The problem is we got married when we were still humping like bunnies so the men automatically assumed that it would always be that way. Like they were actually going to marry "that" girl who likes to have sex all the time (an urban myth in my opinion). So of course once the hormones start to settle and the kids start to pop out they act so surprised, so deceived because we suddenly don't want to have sex all the time. Now they have to SETTLE for once a week or every couple weeks like some poor sap, totally dependent on their wife's wishes. Meanwhile all the single guys out there are having sex all the time - with lots of different women. It's so unfair! Yeah, that's a bunch of bs. Studies have shown that married men regularly have more sex than their single counterparts. Think about it. If your guy was single, would he be out there every weekend picking up a new chick and sealing the deal? And how long do most dating relationships last - 6 months? Do you really think that people who are dating are having sex all the time...at our age? Not likely. Sure, maybe in the beginning, but we know that only lasts so long. So the next time your husband pulls the old guilt routine and acts like he doesn't know how he's going so survive an ENTIRE WEEK without sex (oh the horror!) you remind him that he's actually the lucky one. If that doesn't work there's always 'ol reliable - aka the handjob (and feel free to tell him he can use his own hand).

The Cleavers weren't so weird after all.

Hear ye, hear ye (is it hear or here?). Attention all wives/significant others of GrabbyHand Husbands: this post is for you! In talking with some friends we have discovered a universal problem when it comes to our marital relations - the Wordless Wandering Appendage. It happens late at night. We're tired, ready to hit the sack and grab that illusive thing called sleep. We just lay our head down and start to drift off when (dun dun dun) we feel that creeping hand start to slide over to our side of the bed (unless you're one of those weird couples who actually snuggle when they go to bed, to which I ask "how do you sleep like that?"). It starts off with a little arm rub, then it takes a slow journey down to the hip area (or upwards if your guy is a boob man). Yes, it's the universal man signal for "I want to have sex." Now, if you're like most women I've talked with you'll have some sort of defensive position - maybe curled up in the fetal position, or what my friend calls "chicken arms," when she lays on her stomach with her elbows out like chicken wings to protect the boob area. So we might continue this silent battle of wills with body language - we take our defensive positions, he goes on the offensive and tries touching a new area, we roll over and feign sleep, he decides to throw for a touchdown and heads straight for the endzone (yes, I'm talking about p-town, aka Vaggyville), we decide to either call foul or give him the points. Does anybody else hate this game?! I think most women would agree that what we would prefer is just a straight out "Do you want to have sex?" Let's just put it out there so we can figure it out and I can get some freaking sleep. I know, most men might think that's not very romantic and don't women want romance? Well, I say no. We've been together too damn long. I really just want some sleep. Now, there are those occasions that you go out together and have a good time, feeling sexy, so you decide to go home and get ur freak on - a joint decision. I'm not talking about those nights so don't go feeling sorry for my husband for having such a cold fish wife (small town gossipmongers, I'm referring to you). I'm talking about the other times, and unless you're a nympho you know what I'm talking about. Here's what I think we'd prefer to hear:

Husband: Hey, I'd really like to have sex later tonight. Is there anything I can do to help put you in the mood or is tonight just not going to work?

That's it. Fairly simple. And something else fellas - timing is important. Don't be asking me that when you can tell I'm already pissed off about something, I don't feel good, I had a really busy day and you KNOW I'm exhausted, or if I've got kids clinging to me and I'm trying to cook dinner while you're sitting your lazy ass on the couch watching the news. You know what the answer is going to be if you ask during those times. Also, don't ask at midnight. Give us a little time to get our heads in the game (we don't have that little one that's always ready to go).

I'm not sure that this will ever happen. Maybe that's why June and Ward Cleaver slept in seperate beds. June finally got fed up with GrabbyHands. I bet she slept awesome.

I can't exchange these genes...darn it.

I recently decided it would be a good idea to get a body composition test done. I work out regularly and I thought it was time to see where I was at and what I needed to do to improve. So I got weighed, hooked up, and a couple of minutes later my printout was ready. It was a little depressing, only because I work out pretty hard and I still wasn't quite in the "good" zone for body fat percentage. Wtf? I looked at the "excellent" percentages and figured that those were just a pipe dream and I don't smoke. The test did confirm my long held suspicion that my metabolism sucks. It turns out my basal metabolic rate is something like 1400 calories, which is less than what they tell people to eat who are trying to diet. So that means I basically have to diet to not gain weight, and in order to lose weight I have to work out like a maniac and only eat green beans. Fabulous. So all you naturally skinny bitches out there - take a moment to thank whatever deity decided to bless you with great genes and then go eat a brownie...just because you can. Lucky motherf-ers.

She works hard for the money

If you're a woman (and I'm assuming the vast majority of you are) and you've never been to a strip club then I think you should go. And I'm not talking about dude strip clubs (those are a bit harder to find anyways). My friends and I went on a whim one night. It was very embarrassing. We went to a dingier place (definitely more typical of what you'd find in Iowa). It was definitely an eye-opening experience for me. For example, I learned what "sniffer's row" was and why it held that title (for those of you who don't know it's the row of seats closest to the stage and I don't think I need to explain the title, eew). I also didn't know that for $1 a stripper would literally shove the guys face between her boobs and start rubbing, and for $5 you could get a lapdance or go behind the black curtain (I never did make it back there). I guess I was surprised at how physical it actually got. Honestly, it pissed me off. We talked to some of the strippers (while studiously avoiding looking at their giant breasts that were staring at us). They were all nice and curious as to why we were there (I think they were hoping to do a lapdance, I would imagine it's more fun and less threatening to dance for another woman). I was disappointed in the lack of pole dancing. I expected it to be like Demi Moore and have the girls coming tearing across the stage, ripping their costumes off and flying around the pole in some cool leg manuver that I could never do. Instead they mostly walked, er, slinked around the stage, I think due in large part to the HUGE heels they had to wear (seriously, I would have broken my ankle in those things). There was one girl who flipped around the pole and we made sure to applaud and cheer her on. I was also surprised by the number of couples there. See, that I don't mind. I think whatever you do as a couple to enhance your sex life is your own business and nobody else has the right to say what's weird and what's normal. So, if your gal wants boobs in her face and that turns the both of you on I say go ahead and get out your dollar. The married men that frequent strip clubs on a regular basis, well that just creeps me out. I always tell TGD, you want boobs in your face all you have to do is ask.

B.O.B

Alright alright already. So my sister's gettin' on my case about not blogging. Well, I've been tired and busy, neither of which conditions are conducive to blogging. When I'm tired my brain is mush and my loyal readers deserve nothing but the best (I know some of you just snickered "this is her 'best?!'" Well screw you, I never claimed to be an intellect or an English major, so this crappy writing is what you get. I'm all about mediocrity. See, I don't even think I spelled that right. And when I just typed 'right,' the first time I wrote 'write.' So just be thankful that I can make any sense at all). blah blah blah who cares. Okay, on to the real topic of the post...finally...
So this weekend was my thrice-annual Girls Weekend. It's when I get together with my best friends from high school (there are 7 of us) and we hang out at somebody's house and do wacky things. We've done things like wearing wigs and going to a strip club (ooh, another topic for a future post), dressing up in 80s costumes and roller skating, going dancing and almost getting in a fight (okay, that was me, but that little college bitch had it coming!), and other more non-remarkable things that women do when getting together (you know, shopping, eating, talking all hours of the night, playing the American Idol video game, what have you). Well this time we had a "Pure Romance" party. All of us thought it would be fun because we have absolutely no secrets from one another, and at 30 years old (and all married 5+ years) we're all interested in anything that could improve our sex lives (okay, this is the part where all you prudes need to quit reading). Anyways, I was pleasantly surprised at how much we all enjoyed it. It was really fun. We got to take goofy pictures with all the toys (the big purple "Mr. Dependable" was my favorite, only because it had a suction cup on it which made "fridge boner" possible along with all sorts of raunchy jokes). I also had my first taste of rocky road lube. It was pretty good but I honestly think lube is like bathroom spray - you spray to cover the smell but it ends up just smelling like "vanilla poo." Well, the same thing happens with lube - it just ends up tasting like "rocky road balls." But I did like the smell of the flavors versus the plain lube. Plain lube smells like I'm about to have my yearly check-up. Not really the mood I want when getting intimate. There were some toys that were pretty funny. One that really weirded me out was the bullet vibe, only because if you had your legs closed it could buzz right up them to your cooter. It reminded me of that SNL skit "Woomba, the feminine hygiene robot." And I'm not really a fan of remote control vibrators - wouldn't that be awkward with the cord getting in the way? However, I did manage to find a few things, none of which I'm going to tell you, dear reader, because the circle of trust has been broken (see Small Town Living).

gut rot

I swear I look 5 months pregnant right now. My gut is this huge bloated thing just sticking out, trying to get in the way of my hands as I type this post on my laptop (which is, well, sitting on my lap of course). I think it's still growing, eventually getting so big as to flop over onto the keyboard. I'm going to have to push the blubber off to the side so as to continue this post. Ugh. It's a living thing, an entitity in of itself. And right now it's this horrible fire-breathing monster trying to ruin my life. See, it's punishing me for my earlier food digressions at card blub, I mean club. Make it stop! I'm sorry I had that slice of cheesecake when I was already full, and that extra bowl of snack mix during that last hand - that had "mistake" written all over it. I won't even get into the nuts. I knew from the get-go what those would do to me later. But did I stop? Did I at any time have any control over myself? Hell no! My only goal when faced with such an appetizing array of goodies was to see how much I could possibly fit into my stomach without puking. I have no control over myself when it comes to food. I go right up to the line between "full" and "so stuffed I might vomit." So now here I am, miserable once again from eating way too much. Apparently I don't learn the lesson that my gut tries to teach me everytime this happens.

a serious post to match my serious picture

I read a book on my vacation (in one day because that's ALL I did...*sigh*) called "The Adultery Club." Of course it was chick lit (is there any other kind of lit?) but I thought it was good and somewhat thought provoking. It's about a married couple dealing with an affair (probably figured that one out already) but the interesting thing is that it's told from all three perspectives - that of the wife, husband, and skanky beeatch...I mean mistress. The funny thing was I knew what was going to happen but when that moment came I still got majorly pissed off and wanted to rip the husband's balls off. But when push came to shove the book had a good message in the end. I really tried to get TGD to read it but he wasn't too interested (he's not much of a "reader" unless it involves some medical crap, which I'm sure all of his patients appreciate). Anyways, a friend of a friend of mine recently went through all this so we had been discussing the whole cheating thing for a while now. At first her husband seemed like he was going to leave her but in the end I think they decided to try to work it out and get counseling. Personally, I don't think I would ever have to worry about TGD. He's the most steadfast guy I know, I don't think he could EVER do that to his kids (he lives for those girls) and I'm pretty sure he's still happy being with me (most days). Some people might consider that naive but I don't think I am. I mean, we've talked about it, I've considered the "what if" scenarios, but I don't ever let myself start doubting. I guess I'd rather be totally blindsided than paranoid

When did this happen?

I went out to a couple clubs while in Mexico. I love to go dancing and rarely get the opportunity to, so I tarted myself up a bit and went out. I was feeling pretty sexy (which doesn't happen very often) until I got to the clubs and realized the majority of the population was much younger than me. I was surrounded by young women with their pre-marriage/pre-baby bodies, wearing their mini-dresses and short shorts. So after a bit my sex-goddess high was gone and in it's place was an old bitter hag who wanted to tell all those girls "just you wait honey! You'll get yours! (insert maniacal laugh here)". So what I want to know is, where are the clubs for people my age? Where's the club where you have to be 30 to get in and they're still going to play good music and not all 80s classics? I don't think one exists. If you know of such a place be sure to clue me in.

TMI

I just read my last post to my husband (who couldn't believe I was actually going to blog about my yeast infection) and after listening to the whole thing he said "What's TMI? Too much intercourse?" I found this hilarious and then went on to explain that's it means Too Much Information. Thought I'd clarify that for any of you thinking along the same lines (although probably not since I'm pretty sure he's the only dude that reads this, and only a dude would turn the I into Intercourse).

Baking bread

Hola mis amigos! I'm back! I had an enjoyable trip and I have tan, peeling skin to prove it. I also have a nice little yeast infection thanks to the antibiotics I had to take to kill the bacteria I somehow ingested (that should mollify a few of you jealous bitches out there that were left behind). I haven't had a yeast infection in a long time (what, TMI? Um, there's no such thing on my blog so unless you don't want to hear the gritty details of my life you might want to check out some other do-gooder blog out there). I have eaten yogurt, taken the pills and it's still driving me f-ing crazy! This is one of those times when I really really hate having a vagina. I tried to stay home as much as possible today so as to avoid the "itchy-crotch" walk/dance that one must do so as not to itch themselves in public (this is also known as the "I have a wedgie and I'm trying to work it out using the force of my butt cheeks alone" walk). Now, if I were a guy I'd just scratch myself whenever necessary and not think twice about it, but since I am a girl and thus have a more delicate sense of propriety (not much but it's there) I would be forced to do the funny walk or be rushing to the bathroom every 15 minutes. Frickin yeast.

I'm outta here

Well I'm in the process of packing for my vacation. I'll be sunning myself in Mexico (in my daring bikini or possibly topless, j/k - I'm not that brave or cruel). Sorry to all you losers still stuck back here in the frozen tundra. You can be assured I will not be thinking of any of you (remember, me = selfish bitch). I tell you what though, packing for this shindig has been a massive headache. Remember the good old days when you could just leave? Now I've got an entire folder dedicated to all the crap that has to be done, which I started preparing for several months ago. I need a vacation from preparing for my vacation. Yes, I am aware that you're all cursing me out right now "who cares you selfish wench! You still get to go someplace warm without your kids for an entire week!" And you're right. Adios amigos.

30

I love being 30. Is that weird? I have this ability to not give a shit that I didn't have in my 20s (well, not to the degree it is now). It's so liberating.

Body Drama

So now after reading my last post you might be thinking I'm slightly hypocritical. I mean, here I blog about hating my belly and being unhappy with my boobs, but then I turn around and blast this magazine that caters to people overly concerned with their appearance. You're right, at least a little bit. Yes, I am concerned about my appearance and I DO want to be pretty. Who doesn't? But I hate the fact that the media feeds our insecurities and paranoia about appearance and aging. I don't think it's healthy to be that obsessive. I hate it that I have to remind myself that it's okay for me to have a belly - I had two kids! But everywhere I look there's some new magazine celebrating the fact that some celebrity had a baby six weeks ago and she looks thinner than ever! Woo-hoo for her! Oh, and check out her perky boobs! Ack! I recently checked out a book entitled "Body Drama," which deals with women's issues with their bodies and includes several pictures of naked body parts and entire forms. There was no airbrushing and the models were all sizes. What I realized was this - everyone looks weird naked. Somehow this makes me feel better.

"New Beauty" is "new trash" for my recycling bin

I just read the shittiest magazine ever called "New Beauty." It's all about achieving beauty perfection through uses of expensive products and surgery. They even have an advisory board made up of plastic surgeons, dermatologists, and cosmetic dentists to review their articles for accuracy. Of course there isn't one psychologist in the bunch to stop and say, "hey, it might be a better idea to just learn to love your imperfections rather than drive yourself crazy trying to acheive an 'ideal' that, in the end, won't make you a happier person anyways." Nope, instead they talk about how to defy age by using expensive creams (like a $400 bottle of moisturizer that contains olive oil, don't they know I can just buy olive oil at the grocery store for a whole lot less?). If the creams don't work there's a nice big article on the latest botox breakthroughs. And if you're not convinced to try some of these things then they also list what celebrities use which products, so we can all try to look like the airbrushed fake beauties we see on TV. I particularly enjoyed the article that discussed celebrity noses. They used pictures of their profiles to say whether or not they had a nice nose or if they could use surgery to perfect their hideousness, because nobody wants to look at a face that isn't as symmetrical as a computer programmed face. How horrible to have any character! Bring on the cyborgs! Please, I can't stand all this ugliness in the world - wrinkles, fat, age spots, acne, a bump on the nose, static not-so-shiny hair!? Make it go away! It's so offensive to the eyes, how do we even stand to look at each other?! If only we could all live in Hollywood where people spend thousands of dollars to all look pretty and alike, where everyone is so obviously happy because they are beautiful, then maybe the world would be a better place - peace would reign in the Middle East, there would be no famine or poverty, and everyone could hold hands and sing in the spirit of physical perfection. Thank you "New Beauty" for opening people's eyes to all their flaws and supporting their paranoia - with your continueing efforts I'm sure more and more people will succumb and go to ridiculous efforts to be beautifully ageless.

Attack of the Mom Swimsuits

Just like there are Mom Jeans there is also the Mom Swimsuit. You know the type - all you have to do is open a Lands End catalog and there are a variety of shapes and colors to choose from (which I don't understand because doesn't everybody just order black anyways?). You can even type in your body shape and they'll immediately take you to the miracle suit that will camouflage your particular "trouble area." I myself wore a mom suit last summer - a nice boring navy tankini that hid my belly and whose bottoms came up to my bellybutton, not to mention it did absolutely nothing for my boobs (those "soft cups" are worthless, haven't they figured out that moms have saggy boobs and need a little more push-up!). But I didn't care too much - after all I had just had a baby (6 months prior) and at that point was just looking to hide the hideousness of my body in as much fabric as possible (difficult to do in spandex). But I was at a waterpark recently and I couldn't help but notice that there were lots of really cute moms with great bodies who were trying to do the same thing - cover up and blend in. I understand that we can't all be running around in racy swimwear. I mean, you're at the pool with little kids and you have to chase them around so we can't have body parts popping out when they need to stay tucked in. But honestly, the skinny mom with the great legs - you don't need to be wearing a swim skirt! Or the mom with the hourglass curves - you don't need to be wearing that blah brown tankini! How about some color or polka-dots! Maybe a smaller bottom that doesn't make it seem like you're wearing a diaper? Is there some rule that says if you're a mom you have to start dressing like it and are no longer allowed to be sexy? I don't think so! But then again, I'm kind of a skank.

Go ahead, google me. I don't give a shit.

One of my friends googled herself (a subject that I have posted about before). Anyways, she found some morbid death thing about a girl with her name and we were saying that was creepy, blah blah blah. When asked why she was googling herself in the first place she said she had read an article about how employers are looking people up online to find out more about them and if they have behaved inappropriately, like in blogs, etc. I had several feelings about this idea. At first I was immediately defensive, thinking "so what, does this mean that I shouldn't blog because someone might see it and decide that I was too offensive and any future career hopes would be dashed because socially I like to be a foul-mouthed bitch?! Well F-you future conservative prick employers! I don't want to work for you anyways!" Then the rational side of my brain kicked in (the part that isn't led by my temper) and I realized I was getting defensive over nothing because 1) I don't have any future career goals and 2) cursing and talking about pubic hair in blogs isn't really inappropriate when compared to being the star in a BDSM webcam site (which I am NOT).

The conquering hero returns with good news...and great underpants.

I have an update in reference to my post regarding cellulite. As some of you may know I have been on the hunt for panties (I used to hate that word but now I find it much more feminine than "underwear") that don't cling to my butt like a net holding in two basketballs OR ride up in back. It's more difficult than it sounds. Yes, I once again tried the thong. I know everybody says to give it a few days but after one day I couldn't make myself do it again. That entire day was spent focused on my underwear and the effort not to pick it out of my ass. For example, I'm grocery shopping but I can't concentrate on what I need because all I can think about is my damn wedgie, or I have to bend down to pick up the kids and once again - really tight wedgie. What was that? What did you say? I didn't hear you because I'm having a problem with this thong stuck up my butt! You get the picture. So I've tried out several types of undies, mostly from VSecret. All the ones that didn't have the elastic edging (forming the giant net that holds my giant butt) ended up creeping to places they shouldn't be going. They were cute on so I decided they'd be okay for a night in with TGD (he was pleased with this decision), but I wouldn't want to wear them every day (see the thong preoccupation examples above). However I finally found a pair that might work! They are called (drumroll please) TC Edge "No ride, No Lines" panties. I have them in bikini and I tell you what ladies - I really like them. Not only do I think that they are more flattering than my cotton briefs (with their bunchy fabric and cellulite causing elastic) but they really don't ride up. Okay, you might have to pick a couple of times but they're pretty darn good for not having tight elastic edging. Anyways, just thought I'd pass on my findings for anyone who is interested, or maybe I'm the only one obsessed with undies and how my butt looks in them...I'm pretty sure that's more likely the case.

Weed Control

So here's a topic I don't think I've discussed recently - pubes. Eew, that word is so gross. But really, it's just hair that we're talking about here, really curly, coarse hair. I hate pubic hair. It's just one more thing I have to manage. And I don't know about everybody else but mine is difficult to manage. I've tried various methods - razor, wax, pruning shears - but I swear it's like a weed patch down there. Too bad they don't make some Round-Up for that area. I'm seriously considering some sort of lazer removal. Just fry the damn hair 'til it quits growing back! And WTF is up with all these hairless women I keep hearing about? How do they keep it neat and tidy? How much upkeep is involved with that? Seriously, I don't have that much time to spend on that particular area.

always look at the bright side of life...

Here's three things I like about winter:

1. I don't have to shave my legs very often.
2. I don't have to paint my toenails AND I don't care what shape their in.
3. I don't have to shave (or wax) my bikini area.

In other words, I get to be more slovenly than usual.

my own advice

So I've decided that I'm going to try really hard to NOT nag at my drunk-ass husband. I'm tired of trying to be his mother. So there.