Team Kate

So I realize this is old news and most people are sick of it. Well, too bad. I finally have a minute to say my piece so I'm gonna. Jon Gosselin is a shit shit shit-head. Oh boo hoo, Kate was so mean, blah blah blah. She has EIGHT KIDS - and six are the same age, which is a whole different story then those other weirdos who have a million kids all ranging in ages. In that situation the older kids are put to work helping out with the little kids. That isn't exactly possible when the "older" sibs are just a couple years older and way outnumbered. So Kate needs to run a tight ship, and that means getting Jon to do what needs to be done. Yes, she's a little harsh sometimes but I completely understand. Men's brains just don't function like women's do and it gets frustrating. Women know what needs to be done without having to be told, men are all about shortcuts. Women have higher standards than men when it comes to domestic chores, which usually translates into us doing all (or most) of the work because we want it done a certain way (like thinking the kids should have vegetables and home cooked meals instead of take-out every night, or just folding the towels a certain way so they'll all fit into the linen closet and not spill out all over the place). I know there are some men out there who are actually more domestic than their wives but I think it's safe to say Jon did not fall into that category. Yet here we are, berating Kate for getting frustrated. And what does Jon do? He leaves her and has an affair with a young ho with the maturity level of a two year old (me me me!). And people feel sorry for this ass-hat?! Sorry, he gets no sympathy from me. He chose to get married, he chose to have kids, he chose to bail out, and now he chooses to get his picture taken with various girlfriends to be put on the covers of magazines to be seen by his kids if they happen to go to the grocery store.

Maneater? I'm more of a "stress-eater."

I was reading about a new TV show called "Cougar." I can't remember when it's on or what channel but it's a reality show (surprise) about 40-something women looking for love among a bunch of 20-something hardbodies. The article called them "himbos" which I thought was pretty freaking funny. Anyways, I'm going to try to find out when it's on to see what it's like. I'm all for a show that does a little role reversal (since we seem bombarded with shows where women fall all over themselves for one dumb guy). And I can see the draw of a younger guy (hello! all that enthusiasm...) but I don't know if I could date him (assuming I wasn't married blah blah blah). I mean, I already have three kids. I think I'd have a tendency to become the "mother figure" with a younger guy, and that's just gross.

Goodbyes are never easy

Warning: this post might get a little maudlin. There, you've been forewarned. I'm in an introspective mood.

It all began this past January when my husband decided to man up and have a vasectomy (did I blog about that already?). Anyways, it was something that we had discussed while I was preggers with kid #3. I knew I didn't want to get pregnant again and I absolutely did not want to be on birth control for the next 10 years. Plus, TGD, being the smart guy that he is, knew that a vasectomy was the best choice for us (versus those idiots who think their wives should just have a tubal, like it's not an invasive surgery requiring inpatient hospital stay). So I was very glad when he scheduled his appt because the sooner he had it done the sooner I could go off the damn pill. However I will say when he called on his way home to say that he was "oficially out of commission" I had a weird moment. Not like an "oh crap, what have we done" but more of a "I can't believe that we'll never have another baby and that part of our life is done" moment. It made me a little sad - but definitely not regretful of our decision. Anyways, for the past two months we've been using "backup" birth control (because the boys have to get all flushed out before it's safe to back in the water without an inner tube, if you get my drift) and we've had a couple of "oh shit, oops" moments where I get all panicky and take a few pregnancy tests, freaking out the whole time and generally driving TGD insane. Well, tonight I got the news that I can quit being paranoid because the swimmer count is zero. Which once again caused me to have mixed emotions. On the one hand I let out a huge sigh of relief, but then again I felt a little sad at the total finality of it. And just to drive home the point even further, after I got off the phone I went to the bathroom and got my period. So, there it is. No more babies, no more pregnancies. I might have a couple of teary moments tonight and I'll probably hold my 4 month old a little more than usual tomorrow, but I'm not second guessing myself. I know I don't really WANT any more kids or to be pregnant ever again (especially that part), but it doesn't mean I don't need to say my goodbyes to that part of my life. It doesn't mean I can't mourn it, just a little bit.

water and wedgies

It's that time of year again. Well, not really because it's still snowing out, but it's coming...looming out there...just around the corner. That time of year that every woman hates to think about - yep, time to think about SWIMWEAR! Dun Dun Dunn (ominous music). Seriously, I am going to an indoor waterpark next weekend which makes me go "yay fun!" but "crap, I gotta put on a swimsuit." I'm planning on just wearing some crap suit I've got buried in my closet (we've all got at least one of those) because ain't no way I'm shopping for a suit right now. I'm still holding on to the delusion that I'll lose a few more of these baby pounds before summer. But, it has got me thinking about maybe browsing the catalogs and internet just to see what's out there. Every year I am determined to find the perfect swimsuit and of course every year I have to settle for something because there is NO perfect swimsuit. I think that all swimwear designers are either men, women who haven't had kids, or women in their 50s. Swimsuits are either too skimpy or too matronly. Where's the happy medium? Where is the suit that says "Hello, I'm a cute, but yet somewhat sexy 30-ish gal who may or may not have kids (you wouldn't be able to tell because the perfect suit would give you enough support to put your boobs where they're supposed to be and wouldn't ride up over your spare tire)." It would also say "I can look good laying on the beach but I can also go for a swim and not have to worry about my suit falling off or slipping into uncomfortable places" instead of "I'm a housewife who's trying to feel sexy but all I could find was this leopard print tankini that kind of looks like underwear and has a tendency to ride up my crack." And I know I'm complained about it before but c'mon - what's the deal with the boob support?! If I want a suit that actually gives me support it looks like I'm wearing a bra. The other day I was looking in a catalog and I thought I finally found it - hidden underwire in the top and it didn't look like a bra! Then I noticed it was for C-DD bra cup size. What?! Like my B cups are too small to warrent underwire support? Who made up that rule?

So, I'm still continueing my search. If any of you find that perfect suit let me know. I promise not to order it in the same color as you.

His wife could eat no lean

TGD and I had a date night last night. It wasn't originally planned as a date night but those plans got canceled and since we had already booked the sitter we decided to take advantage. We thought about asking some friends to go with but then thought we needed some couple time since it's been a loooooooong time. It was nice to have a conversation and not get interrupted ump-teen times. Anyways, my husband loves appetizers (and I love food in general) so we ordered some nachos before our meal. Fine. But then I went ahead and got dessert too because, what the hey, we're kind of celebrating aren't we? Well, that's the excuse I used. And of course TGD was all "go ahead, order dessert" blah blah blah. But then when it comes to the table he's too full to eat it so I eat the whole darn thing. Ack! I'm trying to lose the baby weight, not gain more! Anyways, it bugs me when he does stuff like that - like refusing dessert. For some reason TGD gets on these healthy eating kicks where he tries to eat more protein and fruit, etc. He even got some protein bars. And I should be encouraging that because I want him to be around for a long time and he needs to be healthy. BUT, because my husband is a freak of nature he can eat whatever he wants and still be healthy. He doesn't gain weight, his cholesterol levels are awesome - and it doesn't matter what he eats! So for some reason it bugs the shit out of me when he starts trying to eat healthy. Like he's rubbing it in my face "look at me, I don't even HAVE to eat healthy but I'm going to because it's good for me." What?! Who thinks like that?! If I could eat whatever I wanted and still be healthy I would have doughnuts for breakfast every day and ice cream every night. Lunch and supper would mainly consist of breads, baked goods, and pasta. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't ever consume a vegetable unless it was loaded down with ranch dressing. So when I see him eating an orange at night because he needs a snack I really want to take a bunch of cookies and shove them down his throat. But then again if I saw him eating a bunch of cookies I'd be jealous because I want to eat cookies! Poor guy. He just can't win. Although don't feel too bad for him - he does have that genetically superior metabolism/digestive system. Skinny bastard.

BTW, that canadian lady who had all those kids is a whack job. Just my opinion.

Dreams that make me go "hmmm"

Last night I had a dream that I was back in junior high/high school but I was sort of an adult (looked younger but still had the maturity of an adult). Anyways, I was wearing these really tight white jeans that went all the way to my belly button and I had a shirt tucked into them. As if that weren't bad enough my body was shaped weird - my butt and stomach were the same size - same roundness. I looked like a walking egg person. And to top it all off I had my period and was wearing a huge pad (because that's what I used to wear when Aunt Flo made her first visits). Anyways, my jeans were so tight and white that apparently you could see the outline of the pad on my butt because one of the mean girls in my class (I won't name names but she did exist) pointed it out to this boy I had a crush on. But, since I had my adult mind, I was able to tell her to shut up and said something like "so what, I have my period. It's no big deal. Of course I have to wear a pad. Duh." And then I said to the boy "and if you're too stupid and immature to deal with that then I don't want to go out with you anyways."

I have no idea where the hell that all came from. I can only guess that part of it is because I'm supposed to get my period this week. As for the egg shape, well, I am feeling pretty egg shaped these days. You know, now that I'm thinking about it I'm not so sure that my shirt was tucked in. It might have been knotted in front by my belly button. Heinous.

Satan's pants

I'm wearing a torture device, aka my skinny jeans. And not the skinniest jeans I own, those won't even fit around my "thighs like what." These are the jeans that last year at this time fit me great, not tight at all. Today I'm a little concerned that the button might decide to give out and shoot across the room, possibly poking someone's eye out. I'm having questionable thoughts as to if I should even be wearing these jeans. I'm pretty sure if I saw me walking down the street in these things I would think I was deluding myself if I thought these fit good. And I'm not going to ask TGD what he thinks, that would just be cruel and unusual punishment to put him on the spot like that. There's no easy way to answer that question - "No, your ass is too big" would most definitely send me into tears (or rage, whatever) and "They look fine" is just a vague way of saying they look like crap. So WHY am I wearing these? Because I really really want to tell myself that I'm not that far off from what I used to look like and I'm hoping they'll discourage any attempts at snacking. Do you think tight jeans might be like corsets and physically change my bone structure if I wear them long enough? Yeah, probably not. I don't think a button and denim fabric have that kind of hold, not like steel boning and ties. I'm pretty sure the only thing these tight jeans are doing to my body is giving me gas from the constricting waistline. Or maybe that was lunch causing all that. I'm also telling myself all sorts of excuses as to why these jeans are so painful today, like I just got them out of the dryer and I'm pretty sure they shrunk. In any case my gut is painfully protesting the constriction and it's time to go put on some jeans that fit (aka my fat jeans).

I wouldn't make a very good captive. I caved to torturous jeans after only 20 minutes.

Okay, and that last post - the title is in reference to a song by the Gap Band "You dropped a bomb on me." A GREAT song. So if you haven't heard it go download it on iTunes. You'll be singing it all day and trying really hard not to bob your head.

She dropped the bomb on me, baby

So I was checking out the most recent post on my sister's blog (www.mias-toophat.blogspot.com , which you should be reading if you haven't been already because it's a helluva lot better than my piece of crap blog, plus she posts a lot more) and she dropped the F-bomb. I don't know if I blogged about this before (probably because I tend to talk about the same junk over and over) but I secretly (or no so secretly depending on how well you know me) like to swear. I do. When I'm with the right crowd I can cuss like a sailor. The only word I tend to shy away from unless I'm seriously pissed off is the F-bomb. It's the way I was raised I think. My mom would swear only if she hurt herself or some other extreme circumstance, and even then it was a mild "Shit!" or "Dammit!" I have NEVER heard her say the F word and I highly doubt she ever will say it. I think the world would end or something. It would definitely mean the apocolypse is here. Now, my dad would swear on a regular basis and he had his favorites - "son of a bitch" was a favorite, usually mixed in with a "goddamn" and "piece of shit." A lot of times he would combine all them together. However he too is not one to say the F word. I'm pretty sure he has but I don't recollect ever hearing it. So I tend to take after both my parents - usually only muttering the occasional swear but I can also really let go with a string of cursing. And I find myself really letting go when I'm not with my kids (it's my way of celebrating). I'm particularly bad in the car when I'm by myself. I use words that I would never admit to saying to anyone. In the car is where I get creative with my swearing - using odd combinations and experimenting with all the foul slang I can think of - the kind of language that if I told you, you'd have to do the fake he-he laugh because you'd be too embarassed to do anything else. So there. Now you know. I swear. And if you ever hear me say the F word just back away slowly, because there's probably some serious shit goin' down.

drugs

There was an advertisement for some drug on TV the other night. I don't remember what it was for because I wasn't paying that close attention but it seemed to have a ridiculous number of side effects - one of which was death. Hmmm, I don't know of what kind of illness/pain would make me go "So what if I might die, I'm willing to take that chance to get rid of this ---." And have you all seen the male enhancement drug advertisements? I don't like the one where the couple is sitting in bath tubs outside and holding hands. What the? I don't get that at all. Is that the right commercial or is that for something else? Well, even if it's not a commercial for a bigger dong I still don't get the whole bathtub thing.

Milk jugs

So I don't know how many of you have heard about the breastfeeding bruhaha going on over on Facebook so here's a quick synopsis: Some lady got into a tizzy because the Facebook people took her picture off her page after a few others had complained that it was inappropriate. She was nursing her child and apparently had some boobage showing. So now she's started some new group to support nursing mothers blah blah blah. And apparently they had a "nurse in" over at Facebook headquarters (where I think less than 10 women showed up). I'm currently a nursing mom and I have mixed feelings about the whole thing. First of all, some lady was quoted as saying "I have a 9 month old baby so trying to get a picture of me not nursing is pretty impossible." Really? Give me a break. So I know there's a bunch of nursing whack jobs out there who are really into it - fine, whatever. I don't really care for nursing in public. I don't like the smocks, they get in the way and I can't see what I'm doing - plus they're hot and I hate to sweat. So that leaves me with trying to cover up as much as possible with my shirt, which is okay except for when my baby decides to pop off and leave me with my giant nipple hanging out (oh, and I have to pull up my shirt so my lovely back fat is all exposed). I end up just trying to nurse at home or in the car, etc. But part of me gets mad that I have to be so sneaky about it because I think "that's what breasts are for! That's what God made them for!" Yes, they can be erogenous zones but so are men's nipples and I don't see society making them cover up. See, I think women starting covering up their own breasts because it's more comfortable for them. Have you ever tried running without a bra on? Ouch! I'm sure those cavewomen decided that fashioning some sort of over the shoulder boulder holder was much more comfortable than letting those things just sway about all willy nilly. Not to mention that when you nurse you tend to have milk shooting out everywhere and that just gets messy. And now 50 billion years later by covering them up we've made them taboo. That's fine, I don't really have any desire to start going around topless (once again there's that comfort factor to take into consideration). But it bugs me that men still treat them like something sexual when it's obvious I'm trying to feed my kid. Look the other way for crying out loud! If you're that desperate for a peak at my National Geographic saggy boobs go buy a freaking porn magazine - they look a lot nicer than mine! See, I have to worry about those perverts when I'm trying to feed my child because I can feel the glances I get when I nurse in public. Gross! Therefore, to preserve my modesty and privacy I try to avoid those situations - let alone have someone take a picture of me while nursing. But I understand those women who don't feel like they should have to be modest while nursing because at that point our breasts just become feed bags, or milk jugs if you will. So I guess I'm neutral on the whole thing. Any other opinions?