Thursday, September 1, 2011


Every so often I check out the local paper from the county in which I blossomed until I up and left for a higher education.  It's very entertaining.  In fact I have posted the local police report on here before because you read about someone's change being stolen out of their car or a chainsaw that went missing.  Or even some "skids" that disappeared from the local tractor distributor.  Well, once again I sought and found cheap thrills from this paper.  On the front page was a picture of a kid.  Well, at first glance I thought "kid", nothing more.  Kinda creepy looking, with dark, sullen eyes like someone who doesn't sleep or smokes too much weed.  He had a smirk on his face like he's constantly got something up his sleeve and we'll never find out what it is.  It was this guy:

Not sure why the black box to his left, but whatever.  Anyway, I then see the caption.  His title, so to speak.  And as it turns out he is the new Youth and Family Minister at our local Lutheren Church.  I'm alarmed.  I don't know why.  But if you are being introduced, and especially if you are to make an impression on parents whose youths you will be ministering, wouldn't you want to clean it up a little.  Where was God when this picture was taken?  I already don't like the guy.  He looks smarmy.  Icky.  And he's only 20.  He's still a youth!  Oy.  Call me crazy.  Although I guess he has good charisma.  Then again, Hitler had a lot of that too and we all know that went over like a Led Zepplin.  However, maybe he'll rock and do great things for kids.  Maybe had he counseled or ministered the couple below, they wouldn't look like they got their engagement photo taken amidst flying forward on a sex swing?  Or like she's his mother pressing her teen aged son up against her breasts.  Like this:

What goes on in this town?

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Don't Forget Me When I'm Gone

Wow.  It's been a long time since I've blogged.  It's ok though.  I only have two followers so it's cool.  Not that I don't care about my followers.  You know who you are.  SHOUT OUT!

Amazing things have happened.  I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy.  He was fat.  He's now six months old and fatter yet.  I love fat babies.  And he's a good baby.  Initially I was worried because he was high maintenance like our daughter, where you couldn't put her down and he would cry.  He took only brief cat-naps and to get him to sleep you had to bounce him violently in a bouncy chair or swing him on high speeds.  At one point I sent my boyfriend to the store for some rubber traction stickers to put on the bottom of our nursery "glider" because I had to rock with such force that the whole chair would move across the room.  That was not cool. The stickers worked wonders!  Happy rocking it was.

Then I remember the sleep bible.  The book.  The words of wisdom that saved us last time around.  I thought I'd remembered everything about sleep patterns of infants, but once I started skimming the pages, I realized I'd forgotten most everything.  OH SNAP!

Anyway, we got back on track.  Our son still does not sleep as well as our daughter did.  With her you could lay her in any crib, anywhere and she'd go to sleep without a peep.  Our son, not so much.  Even at six months he likes to complain before passing out.  Or maybe he forgets each time that he has a thumb or finger he likes to suck on to soothe himself.  I don't know.  In general, I can't complain.  He goes to bed at 5:30pm and sleeps until 6am.  Well, we don't go to him before six unless he sounds like he has his head caught in one of those dangerous positions between the mattress and bumper.  Most times he wakes up gayly around 5:30am and has a little party until we get to him.  I refuse to "train" him to get up before 6am. 

Another big event is my pending 20 year high school class reunion coming up this weekend!  I've been helping plan it.  I'm very anxious about it all, hoping it goes well.  I found a fun outfit to wear.  I lost a little weight.  On average I have gained .75 or 3/4 of a pound every year since graduation.  Not too bad.  I'm not fat.  AND..I JUST HAD A BABY!  HAHAHA.  Kidding of course. 

So ya.  I don't know how much longer I'll be at this blog.  I'm thinking of starting anew with True Confessions of a Mediocre Mother.  Stay tuned.  I will lead you there if I go and you wish to follow.  TOODLES!

Thursday, June 30, 2011

Every Bit of Humor Helps

I received a swimsuit today.  One of four, yes FOUR, that I ordered online in search of the perfect..AHEM..miraculous fit.  And I love it.  And miraculously, it fits.  Not like in the picture of course, but isn't it cute?
The first three didn't excite me like this one did.

So anyway, I like it sooo much that I thought I would tell all my girlfriends about it.  I open my email and find the "payment confirmation/shipping confirmation" one and as I'm scrolling down and scanning the words looking for the name of the suit I see this:

Shipping Method: FEDEX Ground (Delivered by the attractive, shorts-wearing FedEx Guy in 3-5 business Days)

That kinda cracked me up.  But it got me to they not hire women?

And just in case you have to have it too, it's a Tommy Hilfiger Noepe Patterned Tankini.  Dig it.


They were mine.  Yup.  I feel like such an idiot.  A ruh-tard.  I started doing some of the heaviest thinking to date and realized that they had the same exact cut and ribbon as another pair that I do wear; ones with cherries on them.  They came in a pack of three.  Maternity underwear.  Yup.  Shame on me.  They matched up perfectly, just like the glass slipper in many ways.  Sorry boyfriend.  Sorry mind.  Sorry blog.  I guess I continue on waiting for the cheating to happen cause apparently it hasn't happen just yet.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

The Case of the Mysterious Panties

Bloomers, really.  Pink.  They come down in the front to form a "V" met with a tiny little ribbon tied in a bow.  They are high cut, and certainly not small.  On the back written in red is the cursive word LOVE.  I studied these undies today after pulling them out of my drawer in effort to get ready to go to work.  They were slightly folded and when I grabbed them I had anticipated that they were a pair of my pink maternity bloomers from '07 when I was prego with Miss M.  What I didn't expect was that not only were they NOT that pair, but they weren't even mine or any I'd ever owned!  Or were they?  Do I possibly (but not really) remember buying a multi-pack and this pair was amongst them but because of their cheesy nature I stuffed them away and forgot about them?  Nah.  They look too tired for that.  Although not worn enough to have stained.  And lord knows we women stain crotches rather quickly with our expected "monthly" showing up unexpectedly and all.  I kept my cool and started to run down the possibilities that would allow my man to continue to reside in our house.

T-bone?  She's one of my best friends.  She has spent many nights at our house and even done laundry there but that was a long time ago and even so, these didn't strike me as Tre's type.  Regardless I call her immediately.  She didn't really have a recollection of such an item but couldn't rule it out.  I agreed, I didn't really know anyone who would advertise "Love" on the rear of their bloomers.  She tried to calm me and assure me that "he" just wasn't the type and never would do that.  But would he? 

O?  As in Wicky.  She stayed at our house to help out when I had baby number two.  These were slightly folded and she did fold the undies she washed.  She denied the claim.  Bummer.  They probably were too big for her anyway.  She suggested asking my Mom. 


That's funny because my Mother, like O herself, is 65.  Now, my Mom is not huge but her ass is on the wider side and very flat and I guarantee you she has never purchased anything remotely close to the undergarment in question.  Besides, she's strictly into silk.  Then why would I suspect Wicky you wonder?  Unlike my Mom, she is into stuff like that.  She likes leopard print.  'Nuff said yo.

I sent out a couple more texts. One to my bestie from high school and one to my neighbor from my old hood growin' up.  DENIED!  DENIED!  Both have spent nights at my house on many occasions.  They could easily have gotten left behind in the mix, especially since my man and I always give up our room to our guests.  Except for T-bone.  She's too much of a mess with her C-pap machine and stinky feet.  She gets the couch.  

So, here I am.  The mystery continues.  When I discussed my perplexing panty issue with my other half he was just as confused.  He suggested maybe I got them in a bag with all the baby clothes people have been handing down to me.  Maybe?  Quite possible, although JRae is known to try to convert you to wearing "thongs" (no thanks!) and the other two hand-me-downers aren't the right size or the type.  I guess I can't say that for sure.  Maybe their marriages are in need of some extra "love" if you get my drift.  But I can tell you right now, men don't pay attention to your underwear.  Except that they would rather see you without them.

It's not like I think I'm being cheated on.  In fact I'm ninety nine percent sure that's not what's going on here.  But I wouldn't be human if it didn't lay some "what ifs" out on the table.  I grew up NOT trusting men.  I can safely say that I know several unfaithful men.  I've been on both sides and on the outside looking in.  I grew up answering threatening phone calls from mistresses and then later questioning the hickeys on my boyfriends' neck that I did not create.  Shit like that followed me into the college years as well.  "Oh really?  She's a friend from High school?  Do you always grind on the dance floor with friends from high school?"  Hey..I wasn't born yesterday.  But the last time I thought my guy was being unfaithful I frrrrreeeeeeaked out.  My blood boiled and I wanted to kill someone.  I found this list on a piece of paper by our computer in the bedroom and it wasn't my handwriting.  WHAT THE FUCK?  I'd been waiting for it like I do in every relationship and now the moment was here.  He had no clue how to explain it.  He was scared and baffled.  Then it hit me.  T-bone.  She'd been over the previous weekend while my man was up north fishing.  She took the Aldi ad and went online to search some things out.  That list was her grocery list.  I felt so stupid.  And it was actually Mr. Faithful that figured it out. 

So I'm not all that concerned.  Curious, rather.  With just a hint of "what if".  What if she left them there on purpose.  What if she crawls in through our egress window at night.  There is no screen.  Although judging by the larger nature of these panties it's unlikely she'd go unnoticed and without a struggle.  Wait..they aren't that big.  In fact they would probably fit me.  Maybe they are mine.  Maybe I just don't remember.  But what if....

Thursday, June 9, 2011

When ya stumble upon some soft porn...

I was searching for pajamas on  What a score!

Thursday, May 26, 2011


There are several things to not like about the following outfit.  Then again, maybe "camel toe" is making a comeback.

Thursday, February 10, 2011


Thought I'd blog one time before I pop this pregnancy.  I'm due to go in roughly 2 weeks and can't flippin' wait!  I admit, I'm gonna miss this gravid uterus, well knowing it is my last.  People are so nice to you when you are gestating, it's unbelievable.  It's instantaneous too.  Since my belly has visibly been "with child" I don't think I've encountered one rude individual.  People's voices change when they speak to you.  Their eyes light up with multiple questions.  Even men who have never even had children show interest in your future offspring.

On the other hand, I hate attention so I won't miss it all that much.

I'm anxious to meet the little guy.  To hold him and hear his little stretches and grunts.  To find out if he's genetically normal and who he looks like.  Does he really have a pig nose?  Cause it looks a little piggish on ultrasound.  Does he have hair?  Cause I don't see any.  My daughter had a ton.  I had a ton.  My boyfriend had none.  Will he be over nine pounds?  I was nine twelve.  My boyfriend was just over seven and our daughter was just over eight.  Will he have a birthmark?  Those tend to run in the family.  Maybe he won't have any pigmentation!  Or a hemangioma on his face, like so many babies born these days.  Apparently they go away over time.  Or will he be perfect like our daughter was..well, until the labial adhesion discovery.  HA!

So ya, my body is ready to have this kid.  My house, on the other hand, is not quite there.  Bottles are not washed, but I hope to not use bottles right away.  I have a few things left to buy, like a baby boy Boppy cover and a more boyish floor arena.  Will he be okay in a pink Bumbo?  We shall see!

I've also decided that for quite some time I will use this blog to journal things about the new addition.  I didn't do that with the first baby and when it came time to scrapping her first year I couldn't remember any milestones or funny things except for her "scooting" style of transportation.  I didn't think you could possibly forget when she rolled, when she sat up, when she started scooting.  I forgot it all. 

For this baby however, it'll all be right here.

Until then....

Thursday, December 30, 2010


I've never had a full-blown crush on Ashton or anything, but I have always considered him Eye Candy from time to time.  Consider it NO MORE!  Crush OVER!  And by the looks of things his wife might be trying to sabotage Ashton crushes the world over.  Friends don't let friends!  Check it..

I couldn't steal the pic, so I could only provide a link.  Well worth the click though.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Out Of Words

Maybe it's the holidays.  Maybe it's living with a chatty toddler.  I'm not sure what it is but I am out of words.  I have multiple things I could blog on about but I can't seem to get myself to do so.  I'm posting this just 'cuz I didn't want December to feel left out!  HA!