Saturday, April 24, 2010

I'd Write More, But I Have To Go Pee

I've been having trouble picking a topic this week, therefore the logical thing to do is to 1. not post until I have something awesome to say and 2. to talk through posts in the shower that are HILARIOUS until I get out all clean and soapy smelling, then they sound kinda lame (maybe they're just dirty jokes-ba da BING!). So, it came down to either pondering why God loves kangaroos more than me or comparing my three year old to a geriatric octogenarian.

I almost went with the kangaroos, because, I remember in third grade seeing one give birth in some film we watched about Australia because our teacher was from Melbourne, and even then I thought, "Wow! That's the way to have babies!" Then I had a baby and I thought,"Wow! That's the way to carry around a baby too!" Because if there's one thing I absolutely hate about babies is all the junk I'm expected to carry, let alone push in a miniaturized Conestoga wagon. I mean look at this. First, your typical Conestoga for transcontinental migration:
Then your typical stroller travel system, which I can only assume is meant to be used for transcontinental migration as well:
Then, there's God's favored animals, the kangaroos:

Dude! He even supplies the mommy Kangas with Snickers! It can thereby be concluded, that God loves kangaroos more than he loves me. (That's sound logic people!)

But then I thought, no, I don't need another post where I complain about being pregnant. I mean, my five readers might decide to take me off their Google Reader lists and then I would be down to one, Jon, who is compelled by our marriage vows to not only read everything I write but to tell me why in the heck I'm the most hilarious blogger he's ever read with every single post! And, really that's just kinda lame. (The part about losing readers, not the coerced ego building.*)

So, I decided to go with listing all the reasons why I'm no longer raising a sticky fingered preschooler, but in reality a geriatric octogenarian.
1. She keeps asking for an earlier bed time. (Who knew 8pm was outrageously late!)
2. She keeps receipts in a box. (Literally, receipts. In a box.)
3. She will typically spend an hour or two reading on the toilet each afternoon. (The tut-tut-tut is all over and done with, I think she just likes the quiet.)
4. She keeps asking me to turn that dang rock and roll down when we're in the car. (OK, she doesn't say dang or rock and roll, just, "Mommy, the music is too loud. Could you turn it down, please?" She's nothing if not a polite octogenarian wanna be.)
5. She's never cold because she always wears a sweater inside.

But, then I thought, nooooo. I wrote Katie into my post last week, and, really, I think my geriatric octogenarian comparison is only cracking me up.

So, instead of alienating my extensive readership with more preggo mommy stories, I'll post this fact:

Did you know that if you google the terms "goose step" and "sauerkraut pizza" my blog is the second hit out of 3,370 results on Google, but if you search for "pasties on my butt"** I'm not even in the top 100 of 113,000 hits? What are your thoughts on this obviously outrageous phenomenon?

*I expect the usual list by 8am tomorrow morning Jon, detailing each and every hillariousnessment from this blog! (BTW, start with the word hillariousnessment.)

**(Legal/Morality clause) If you do this I don't recommend clicking on any of the links.

Thursday, April 15, 2010

Top 5 Things That I've Found To Be Full Of The AWESOME This Last Week

1. The woman on the left mowing my lawn
Not only can she hike Mt. Rainier, she can make grass shorter! She has single-handily saved me from the judgemental pointings of the retired early morning jogging suited walkers as they power walk past my house. I thought about dedicating a whole post to her awesomeness where I not only re-wrote the lyrics to Bette Midler's "You Are The Wind Beneath My Wings" but performed it, choreographed it and then posted it on YouTube. But I couldn't figure out how to work the video app on our camera, so once again a brilliant idea shot down due to my lack of technological skill.*

2. A drain plug that can even make Ernie's ducky friend look cliche and dated.

3. Georgia lawmakers who I swear have already planted a microchip in my brain. Either that or my aluminum foil hat is on the fritz again.

"Are you worried that someone is going to implant a microchip in your brain against your will? If you live in Georgia, your worries will soon be over.

A state House committee approved a measure this week that makes it a misdemeanor to implant microchips, sensors, transmitters or any other manner of tracking devices into individuals against their will. The state Senate has already passed the bill." -National Public Radio-

4. The massive amounts of self-esteem packed into little three year old bodies
Who else but a three year old could put this outfit together and wear it with such pride! (Well, she will once she puts the fuzzy bear down...)**

And then just weeks later bust a move outside of Hollister at the mall.

5. The new lyrics to "You Are The Wind Beneath My Wings"

Did you ever know that you're my hero?
You're doing everything I am supposed to dooooo
I can walk through my yard and not loose a shoe,
'cause you mowed it and saved me from ridicule.

It won't go unnoticed in my neighborhood
Now all the retiree's can stop pointing and sneering,
I want you to know, I can hear your snide comments from my kitchen window, of course I can
My house could look crappier too, just so you know.

But now my hero, has come and mowed my lawn
she'll be back in a week or two,
I can walk through my yard and not loose a shoe,
'cause you mowed it and saved me from ridicule.

Now imagine that lyrical awesomeness paired with a ball change, a cross-body lead, then a dos-y-do, followed by five high kicks and ending in a free spin. (I'm still working on where to add the feather step.) All done by a hugely pregnant woman who has never taken a dance lesson in her life and more than likely just typed in random dance terms she found on wikipedia. Man, wish I could figure out that video camera thing....

What awesomeness have you found this week?

*No. Seriously. That's the only reason!
**No. Seriously. She picked it out all by herself! Come on, there's probably at least four other ways I could entertain myself besides dressing my child in embarrassing outfits, taking pictures of her and then posting them on the internet. (I've got this one photo of her on the toilet wearing teddy bear pants on her nose that's AWESOME! But, I'm saving it for her PhD dissertation.)

Saturday, April 3, 2010

This Isn't Pastie Day At The Steamy Espresso Drive Thru. There Will Be No Photos With This Post!*

So there I was pushing the world's biggest car cart through Fred Meyer (our grocery store for those of you out east in Germany, or maybe just as far as Connecticut) and my leggings begin to sag. Not just "drop below my ENORMOUS cement truck sized tummy sag", but "CRUD I better catch these things before I trip over them and end up sprawled on the floor creating a Blues Brother's-esque pile up of all the other car carts speeding around the produce area sag". So, I casually and discreetly rustle under my skirt and pull them up. Except, I'm not wearing a cute little ruffly maternity skirt, I'm wearing the really big hippie dress I bought to eat sticky buns the size of my head after 18 mile runs while training for my marathon last summer. Meaning, there's nothing casual or discreet about reaching under yards of leprechaun green fabric on a dress hemmed with 6'5" Amazon women in mind. I may have flashed a few senior citizens, and probably a whiney toddler or two (mine included).

I then decided that since my peek-a-boo show went over oh so well in the produce section I'd try it in the bread aisle, the cereal aisle, the coffee aisle, the frozen foods section (where I gave a new meaning to the saying "freeze your butt off" when I ran into the lady buying a five gallon tub of strawberry ice cream), the bulk foods aisle, the international aisle (where strangely there is no French food sold), and for good measure the baristas at the coffee kiosk and the cashiers in the family friendly lane. Yeeaahh... I think the only thing that kept concerned citizens from quickly phoning the local police and having me hauled away for indecent exposure was the fact that I very loudly said, "Stupid frickin' boppin'** maternity clothes!!" every time I flashed someone my lady parts. And, probably because they heard about that woman I had "relocated" to Virgina after telling me I waddled and pointing out the enormous size of my belly to the other mother's at the library story time. It's a small town. Word gets around.

*Although there's probably a surveillance tape or two of me doing the maternity cancan floating around Fred Meyer headquarters.
**And, yeah, I like to make up my own swear words when I'm mad.