Monday, October 27, 2014

You Have One Kid.....That's Cute

DISCLAIMER: I have a lot of friends that only have one child and I love them and their offspring unconditionally. I also have not witnessed from them what I am about to describe.

Here's a bit of background on what led up to our day today. All three boys went to my mom's house Thursday night and stayed through Sunday afternoon as a birthday present to me. It was wonderful. Jason and I went out a lot and were barely home. Add all factors together, come Monday morning we had no groceries and were in the beginning stages of the grandparent deprogramming. Oh and the kids didn't get to bed till after 9pm on Sunday due to our drive......they are normally asleep by 7:30pm.

So after we sent the oldest off to school, the 2 little ones and I head into town. We went to the chiropractor, Sam's Club and finally.......Hy-Vee. The kids were nearly perfect at our first two stops, but that third one gets me every time!

I gave both kids a snack before we went inside and checked diapers. I was doing all of my "preventative tantrum" steps. We were doing well.............. until we hit aisle 1. While stocking up on the necessary canned goods and listening to the screaming of one boy trying to choke out the other, I noticed up ahead was a very pregnant woman and her toddler. She gave me a very judgy glance over her shoulder as I was yelling, "Sit down and stop trying to kill each other!" In the words of Taylor Swift, I just had to "Shake It Off!"

We conveniently ran into the same woman in the cereal aisle. I painted on a smile, while inside I was throat punching her for the constant, "control your children" glares she was giving me. This continued ALL THE WAY TO THE CHECK OUT! We literally were confronted in every aisle, even after I purposely skipped a couple and back tracked a bit. Her look of disgust was intensified with each encounter. Honestly though, I was happy that my kids were still alive and that one hadn't been thrown from the cart yet.

So to the woman with the one child in her cart, you have 2 options that are considered acceptable if we ever are so lucky to meet again. You can either A. Keep your eyes to the ground or B. Laugh. Yes, laugh, and say, "I'm scared shitless for when this second one gets here." Because lady, you should be scared. One is a piece of cake, well I can only imagine it is, because I never got the pleasure of only have one child in the beginning. Add in more than one, and your world is going to be flipped upside down!

And for mother's of one, enjoy the hell out of it, but please be considerate of large families in the following situations:

-Target. Do NOT take the cart that holds 3 children for your ONE child. Target only keeps 2 of those carts on hand and it's like winning the lottery when I can score one of those. I don't care if your kid thinks it is fun to ride in it. I'm half tempted to go psycho on the next mom I see take that cart when she sees me walking in with my herd.

-Doors. Hold the fucking door open for me please! A double stroller is difficult enough to maneuver, so have some common courtesy please.

-Expanding Family. I dare you to make some sort of comment about my uterus, sanity, my husband's penis or our knowledge of the birds and bees. It is none of your business whether we decide to be done with 3 kids or have more. So......keep your damn mouth shut.

Ahhhhh that felt good. I've been wanting to write this for awhile, and today's events helped to add fuel to my fire!

Layne out at the ranch this past weekend!

Saturday, October 25, 2014

Older and Wiser?

Today is my birthday. The big 2-6! I'm officially on the downhill slide to 30! I like to think as I get older, I'm getting wiser, but I don't honestly think that is true. I think I just care less than I did before. I've been comparing 21 to 26 in my head the last couple of days. So here is my brain vomit.

At 21 I could drink with the big boys and wake up the next morning feeling like a champ. Now 1 glass of wine will guarantee a 2 day hangover.

I'm lucky to get out of yoga pants 2 times a week, 5 years ago I wouldn't have been caught dead in yoga pants in public. I would only wear "hip" or "cute" clothes, I literally am laughing out loud as I write this, because I think what is considered "in" right now, is fucking ugly.

We had just started trying for a baby this time 5 years ago. I would have never thought that I would have a 4, 2 and almost 1 year old by my 26th birthday.

At 21 I hated my body, all size 4/6 of it. Now, I'm just hoping to get back down to single digit jean sizes by the time I'm 30! If I could go back and talk to my 21 year old self, I would tell myself to walk around naked as much as possible, make sex tapes, and take dirty pictures. Shit IS NOT the same at 26!

Clean freak would be an understatement of a term for how I was when I was 21. With the "wisdom" I've gained, I realize that the plates and forks in the sink will still be there tomorrow, and my worrying about everything being picture perfect annoys the hell out of my husband!

I LOVED my Volkswagen Passat  that I had in college! It was my baby! I'm a Honda van mom now.........something I never thought I would stoop to, but the perk of being able to pack 8 people into it when necessary is awesome!

-Car Cleaning
On the rare occasion I would actually clean my car out 5 years ago, I would spend hours in the driveway unloading my closet worth of clothes from the back seat and trash that should have been thrown away weeks ago before meticulously polishing and conditioning everything. Now on the rare occasions I clean my car out, I throw away diapers I forgot about and empty out my kids' socks from the backseat, before taking it to someone else to detail it for me.

I wanted to be everyone's friend at 21. I thought that if I didn't have a boatload of friends than something was wrong with me. Now......I don't give a shit. I have 4-5 REALLY good friends and some people that I consider friends, but rarely see. My "wise" thoughts on this, if they don't make an effort to talk to me or see me than fuck it, I'm not going to be the one to chase them down every time.

21 year old me was all about partying and getting crazy. 26 year old me shipped the kids off to grandma's and is doing dinner with friends!

This is one thing that I don't think has changed. I still love and appreciate my husband. I do think that with each year we learn to appreciate our time together more and enjoy the everyday things that we do together with the kids. Our marriage is like a fine wine, getting better each year!

I don't have a problem with birthdays, although 30 does scare me a bit, but I always say that it is better to have a birthday than not (which would mean I was dead). So here is to being 26 years older and wiser!

This is Jason and I at Corky Canvas celebrating with some friends! 

Thursday, October 23, 2014

The Debacle of Family Pictures

Any parent who says, "Family pictures are a great time," are fucking liars. They are terrible and I don't care who you are.

On Tuesday we got our pictures taken. We went to a photographer that several of our friends had used, and their pictures turned out great. So naturally, I thought this would be great! And yes, the photographer was SO sweet and family on the other hand, not so much.

I would compare getting our clan's family pictures taken to what it would be like to herd cats high on catnip.....fucking impossible!

We were doing fall pictures, after all it is October. So I had everyone dressed in jeans, boots and long sleeve sweaters, and it just so happened to be 70 some flippin' degrees out!

The photographer started in the studio and tried to capture a picture of all 3 boys together, a picture we have NEVER gotten.........and probably still won't! Layne sat there like a champ, didn't move an inch.....also didn't smile either! Our 2 year old REFUSED to sit, and if he did he only wanted to show us his back, awesome! Then there was our 4 year old, the one I was worried about most. He smiled and stayed still, except he apparently lost his spine in the car and could only get his picture taken if he was laying down.....on his back.

"Sit together, and play with the kids. Make them laugh." This translated to have my hair pulled, eyes poked and try to wrestle kids so that you can still see their face in a picture. Oh, AND try to keep a smile on my own face while hiding my double chin. Quite the impossible task.

Then we went outside, in our fall clothes, in the fucking hot ass weather, or what at least felt hot. The photographer had us try to get a picture of all 3 kids again sitting along this brick wall. There were no fences around and a busy street just a hop and a skip away. I was going to lose a child for sure. And to top it off, I put Layne down only to have him grab a used cigarette from off the ground. Awesome!

We moved to a grassy area that appeared free of used needles and cigarettes. Here we tried to get individual shots. HA! Layne wouldn't smile for all it was worth. Not even a slight grin. Our 2 year old ran the entire freaking time, back and forth, back and forth! Unless she got one of him on the move, that was a wash. Then our spineless 4 year old laid in the grass, smiled and laughed the whole time. Well at least someone was cooperative!

For our last shot, we had to climb (with all 3 children) onto this shady ass poured cement ledge and try to get everyone to smile for a family shot. Through my husband's gritted teeth I hear, "This is fucking stupid, and I didn't wear these jeans to sit on fucking poured cement!" YAY, I'm so happy that everyone is happy!

Once that shot was over, we were walking back to the studio and the photographer asked if there were any other shots that we had to have that we didn't get
. I laughed, "Ummm no, everyone is checked out now."

I think the photographer could see the worry on my face when we were done. She reassured me that she got some good shots, but I won't see them for about 2 weeks. Wonderful! 2 weeks of wondering if I have to Photoshop a family picture together!

When we were done and I loaded all 4 of my cranky ass boys into the car, Layne started smiling and laughing hysterically! Seriously!?

Now by some small miracle there will be at least one good picture in the lot, and if there is, it will all be worth it. If there isn't, we aren't doing family pictures until everyone is out of diapers, and will follow directions.... so when they are 30...maybe!
One day I will get a picture this good, until then, I'll just look at Pinterest! 

Monday, October 20, 2014

Call It Babysitting........I Dare You

Over the weekend I happened to have been having a conversation with a friend when he referred to watching his daughter, his own flesh and blood, as babysitting. Are you fucking serious? Babysitting? Are you getting paid? Are you unrelated to the child? Are you going to someone else's house to watch the child? Are you only seeing the child for the 4-5 hours that you are "babysitting"? No, no you aren't. SO......let's not call it babysitting.

When men say this it gets under my skin SO much, and even more now that I'm home with the kids all day, every day....notice I didn't it call it babysitting. I've never heard a woman call it that. Maybe it's the whole maternal connection to our kids? Maybe we aren't insensitive dickheads? Whatever the case may be, men, get your shit together.

Here are a few options that you can use in when your buddies want you to go out for a few beers, but you've already agreed to let your wife go grocery shop by herself for the evening.

-I'm hanging out with the kid that I helped bring into this world.
-I feel like I don't see (insert child's name) enough, so we are going to hang out. 
-There is a tea party that I'm late to, sorry. 
-We are having a movie and milk party already. 
-Remember when I said that (wife's name) was going to have a baby, well that baby was born. I'm the father now, and I'm doing my responsibility of parenting that baby. 

Now here are a few options that, if your wife ever heard you say, I would hope would result in you sleeping on the couch......for a VERY long time. And if I ever heard you say wouldn't be pretty.

-I'm babysitting MY kids.
-The old lady ditched me for the grocery store, now I'm stuck here being bored with the baby.
-Can I bring the baby to the bar?
-Let me call the wife and tell her I'm going to drop the baby off at the grocery store with her and then I can swing by. 

Now men, watching your kids can reap some pretty big rewards for you. Yes, it is quality daddy/child time. Yes, you get to know your child better and bond with them. But also, if you give your wife a break, and she is able to go do some "mommy time" that isn't grocery shopping or running errands, chances of you getting lucky are fairly high. Moms need a chance to recharge, because it is EXHAUSTING. And we have no desire to "hide the salami" when we've been wiping ass all day and have a never ending of list of shit to do running through our head. If you even want to sweeten the deal, after the kids go to bed, instead of sitting on your ass watching TV....... clean the house. Just a thought! There might be more rewards in store for you!

Some of my girls and I having some much deserved mommy time!

Saturday, October 18, 2014

A Few of My "Favorite" Things

Since I'm not Oprah rich, this isn't a favorite things giveaway. Instead this post is inspired by approximately the last 48 hours.

I love that every load of laundry has a lone sock.

I love even more that I have a bin of lone socks that never find their fucking match, but I hold onto them JUST in case.

I love that once I think I have every stitch of laundry done, I find one damn shirt that some child shoved into the couch.

I love that in case of an emergency, my dad ranks the insurance agent a higher priority on the call list than me.

I love that my husband being home during nap time apparently translates to him getting lucky.....instead of me napping.

I love that when I ask my 2 year old to come here to blow his nose, he goes and blows it into his baby brother's hair.

I love that taking the youngest 2 out to lunch with friends results in a change of clothes for myself and not having a clue what we talked about.

I love that a kid thinks that saying "uh-oh" or "sorry, mama" makes it ok that he just threw his milk across the room on purpose.

I love that changing a blow-out automatically means that my son is going to grab his manhood as soon as the diaper is removed and rub the wall all in one swift motion.

I love that my mom buys clothes for the boys by the truck load, but never thinks to send hangers as well.

I love that a child can be exhausted and rubbing their eyes and the moment you lay them down for nap, they are fucking wide awake.

I love that in the dead silence of the night I can wake up to hear the bathtub go "drip....drip.....drip" and then find it impossible to not be annoyed by it and contemplate duct taping it.

I love that my 2 year old insists on sleeping with a shirt out of the dirty hamper and a hanger.

I love that this same 2 year old found a mystery piece of chalk and colored his hair white along with his pants, a box, and the start of his baby brother.

I love that I call people in the middle of the day expecting them to have actual conversations with me, but forgetting that other people work.

I love that awkward moment where someone asks me in person if I love or hate being a stay at home mom after reading my blog, and I can't help but laugh hysterically. I love it and equally hate it all at the same time, but wouldn't trade it for anything.

Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day- A Testimony

"Miscarriage is the spontaneous loss of a pregnancy before the 20th week. About 10 to 20 percent of known pregnancies end in miscarriage." Mayo Clinic,

Nobody talks about. It is that awkward conversation that no one ever wants to have with someone else. Until it is you that is going through it, and no one is talking to you about it, because it is a "touchy" subject.

October 15th is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day, and here is my testimony. 

On March 12, 2014 I got a positive pregnancy test. Yes, Layne was only 3 1/2 months old. No, this wasn't an "oops". We knew we wanted more kids, and with the struggle to get pregnant with Layne, we weren't going to prevent anything. I was so excited! I loved being pregnant, and so I called my doctor right away to get an appointment to confirm. 

I was 5 1/2 weeks at my first ultrasound. Jason was there with me and we saw our tiny little circle, the pregnancy sac. It was there. It was real. My approximate due date would be November 18, 2014. I thought, what a great first birthday present for Layne! 

Everything was going smoothly. I was tired, occasionally felt nauseous, but overall was doing well. We told our family about the pregnancy and some of our close friends. The week of my 8 week appointment I was feeling really well, which made me nervous, because I wasn't feeling well at this stage with Layne. But I was always told that every pregnancy is different, so I chalked it up to that.

On April 11, 2014, a Friday, I went to my appointment by myself. A decision that I would later regret. My doctor did an abdominal ultrasound and I immediately felt the words I never wanted to say come out of my mouth, "It's not normal is it." I was looking at the screen to see a banana shaped pregnancy sac, with no heartbeat inside.

My doctor is a great guy, and he didn't say much. Instead he wanted to do a vaginal ultrasound to get a better look. That looked the same. No baby inside and an abnormal sac. I didn't cry. I was in shock. I had had no bleeding or cramping. Isn't that what is suppose to happen when you have a miscarry? What I thought would be a happy appointment, had me devastated instead. 

Jason knew something was wrong as soon as he got my post-appointment phone call. I was sobbing so hard by the time I got to the car, he couldn't understand what I was saying. I told him to stay at work, because I just wanted to be alone.

 "I lost the baby, and I don't want to talk about it." That was the text that I sent out to those friends that I had told. I isolated myself. No one that was close to me knew exactly how I felt, so I didn't want to talk to them about it. And I didn't want to hear what people would tell me like, "Everything happens for a reason," or "God has a plan, and just trust in it," or "The baby probably wasn't normal, so it's better this way." No, that's bullshit. This wasn't suppose to happen, not to me. This only happens to other people, not me.

I decided not to wait the day, week or month it would take for my body to finally realize that the pregnancy wasn't viable and dispose of it on its own. I opted to go in for a D and C on the following Monday. 

All weekend I felt like I was carrying a dead baby around inside me. It was terrible. I cried so much and squeezed my boys tighter with every hug. 

After the procedure on Monday I felt better. I had a sense of closure. And since I was "so strong" about the situation, very few people brought up our loss after that. 

When I did tell people about what happened, people that didn't know I had been pregnant, I got responses of people telling me that their spouse had had one, or their friend. Some of these people I knew fairly well, but never knew that they had loss a pregnancy. 

Why don't people talk about? When people talk about, it gives those of us that have gone through it or are going through it a sense of support. Hope that we will get through the fire and still be a functioning human being, because while I was going through this, I didn't think I would ever stop being sad. I hated every baby shower invite I got and cried with every pregnancy announcement I saw online, especially the ones that were due around what was suppose to be my due date.  

I'm not done grieving. I don't think I ever will be. That was a baby, for as short as its time here was, it was our baby, and we lost it. I will be that angel baby's mommy forever. 

Tuesday, October 14, 2014

Stop Tickling Your Penis

Most parents probably love bath time with their kids. I dread it! In order to save time and water, we've started bathing all 3 boys together. It makes for a squished tub, but also reduces my headache to 20 minutes, instead of an hour.

I have them sit in descending order;large, medium, and small. This helps prevent the large one from attacking the small one.... and Mr. Medium just keeps the tub entertained. 

Now I don't have a penis, but everyone in my house does. I never knew until this was my situation how entertained the male specie is by their hang down. The moment their feet touch the water it becomes synchronized peeing into the water. All they need are swim caps, and they could be in the next Olympics! It completely grosses me out, but they think it's hilarious.

But I wish it was just peeing in the tub that got me.  No joke, while I'm bathing them, small and large are just going to town on "tickling" their penis. SO FUCKING AWKWARD! I cover my eyes, make absurd sounds of disgust and say, "Please don't do that in front of mom!" ........doesn't seem to phase them.... AT ALL!

Layne enjoying his bath! (and that's a blue boat....not something growing from his arm)
Now take note, in the beginning, they all peed in the water. Well once the penis tickling is done, the large one decides it's time to suck in the bath water, spit it out and laugh hysterically. Over, and over, and over again....... Monkey see, monkey do kicks in and our small guys tries it as well, but instead of the spitting out part, he just tries to drown himself! Oy vey! 

You are probably thinking, "Oh medium size man is just playing and being awesome during bath time!" Wrong....completely WRONG! Our medium guy isn't interested in tickling anything, instead he would rather throw water at me, throw water at his brothers and body slam both brothers. If I'm able to intercept ALL of that, then he moves to his last resort... lay out in the tub like a limp noodle and take every inch of space that his brothers had. Have you ever tried to pick up a bath soaked child who is acting all "Weekend at Bernies?" Well it's really fucking hard! 

In the midst of all the chaos I still manage to clean 3 heads of hair, 6 arms, 6 legs, 3 man parts, 30 toes, and 30 fingers! 

By the grace of God nobody dies during bath time, but I'm lucky to get out alive! I'm considering just hosing them down in the backyard from now on, but with winter approaching....... that might be frowned on!

Thursday, October 9, 2014

I Lie To My Mom

I know, I know, you aren't supposed to lie. BUT there are certain situations and conditions I've learned to not be 100%  truthful about. I mean look at this poor, forgetful, aging woman........ she needs sheltered from the truth from time to time. And for the record, I got full permission to use a picture from her very own Facebook!

1. "Hey honey, what are you up to?"
She doesn't want me to tell her that we just got done trying to give her another grandchild or that I just got done donating toys to Goodwill, many of which she bought. Both responses would scar her for life. Instead I tell her, "Oh just watching TV."

2. "Do you like this new visor I just got?"
I'd like to say, no one fucking likes visors and I don't want to walk to next to you when you wear one for fear others might think we are related. I've just learned to tell her, "It's fine," it helps to avoid the awkwardness.

3. "What size do the kids wear?"
You are probably thinking, why lie about that? Well my mother, like all aging people, assume that I'm not telling the truth about the size of my very own children and instead the actual size is 2 sizes larger. So I backdate the size. My 2 year old JUST got into 3-6 month clothes and hey my mom got him 2T, worked out perfect!

4. "What size do you wear?"
Why my mother chooses to ask me this baffles me, because she buys whatever size she thinks "looks like it will fit." Now this could very well be a size XS shirt with 2XL pants, all depends if her glasses are on. So I just tell her whatever size I feel like being that day and hope that she gives me the receipt.

5. "What size do you think you will be after you lose the baby weight?"
Yes, my mother honestly has asked me this, actually on more than one occasion those words came out of her mouth. Any size I tell her at this point is a lie, because shit, I don't have the faintest idea.

6."Are you taking a nap?"
Easy enough question right? Wrong. Never fails, if I answer yes, I will receive at least 3 phone calls, 7 text messages and several FaceTime attempts during what was supposed to be my nap. So I lie and say, "No, just laying in bed watching TV while the kids nap," then apparently I'm not interesting and she doesn't contact me. 

7. "What time do I need to be there?"
I've never told my mom the truth on the time, because she's always late. It's like it is in her genetic code and she can't help it. So I always tell her a minimum of 30 minutes earlier than she actually needs to be there, and even then she is still sometimes late.

8. "What do you think of this outfit I picked out for your sister?"
Well........ really........ it's fucking ugly. But I guess it's a "trend".....that is still really fucking ugly. I go with a generic, "Umm yeah." I have an issue condoning people wearing really ugly clothes, so my response isn't a response, but gets them off my back. 

9. "Can you see my roots?"
Uhhh yes, yes you can. I'm pretty sure the satellites circling the earth can see the amount of outgrowth you have going on. But since I understand her struggle with keeping those roots covered, I don't tell her the absolute truth. I might say, "No, not really. They are JUST starting to show."

10. "How do I look?"
Why in the world would you ask me this!? You are wearing a cowhide vest with fringe hanging 10 inchces off of it, a hat with a bedazzled cross, blingy ass jeans and they are tucked into your boots. I would like to say that you look ridiculous, instead I'll just tell you, "Oh that's SO you!"

Now I love my mother and all of her craziness.....cause there is a lot of crazy, and if I didn't love her I wouldn't lie to her. Those of you with mothers like mine understand this logic! If I don't give you a picture of her where she doesn't look like a person just out of the psych ward, I will get an angry FaceTime later! So here is picture that I'm slightly partial too.....probably because of that gorgeous baby! (Please take note of her hat!)

Tuesday, October 7, 2014

Wife of a Hard Workin' Man

My husband is hands down the hardest working man I know. He puts in more hours in a week than most people put in in 2 weeks! I know he does all of this because he's a provider and wants us to still be able to live comfortably while I stay at home with the boys.

That being said, I am the full-time "single" parent 90% of the time. Meals, baths, discipline, errands, cleaning, etc., all fall on my shoulders when he is working. Now I could get all sappy and say that I wish he was around more for the little moments with the kids and myself, but nobody has time for that. I can't get upset when I know that he does what he does for us. He doesn't want to be gone constantly; out of town for a week, work at his business on Saturday, home MAYBE on Sunday and then back out of town on Monday. Therefore I've found the silver lining in being the wife of a man who works so hard.

1. TV at my disposal
I don't have to share shit. I can watch as much reality t.v. bullshit that I want without hearing anyone complain about how stupid it is!

2. Early bed time
Normally I try to stay up till 10pm or 10:30pm, because that's when he goes to bed. If he isn't around, I can go to bed with the kids with zero regret!

3. The whole fucking bed to myself
I get the joy of sleeping sideways, diagonal or completely spread out on the bed! It can be quite amazing!

4. Dinner is optional
When he's in town, I make a full-blown dinner every night. When he's gone, the kids don't care what I make. They love PB & Js and applesauce and I love cereal!

5. Daily cleaning is also optional
I feel that it is necessary that the house be somewhat put together when he gets home from work every night. Sooooo when he is gone, fuck it! Needless to say the morning of the day he is set to come home, it's like a cleaning whirlwind!

6. Chopped live when he gets home
The moment he walks through the door, no child wants to see me, talk to me, or touch me. I LOVE IT! I use the bathroom by myself and fold laundry without helpers......or say I'm going to fold laundry and really just lay on the bed in the quiet.

7. Distance makes the heart grow fonder
If we've been on "hiatus" for 6 make good use of that 1 day together! Needless to say, Elmo is on constant replay!

I know men that are willing to do what he does are far and few, and I cherish and appreciate him so much! I'm glad that I'm choosing to not be the crazy, "but why can't you just be home" wife and instead love the time we are together!

Monday, October 6, 2014

Loving A Bearded Man

Facial hair is something that I think all women should love or at least learn to love. It's masculine. It gives character. Hey, it tickles when he kisses you too!

My man has had facial hair since the first time that I met him. It started out as a goatee that I loved. Eventually it started to evolve to a full-blown beard for hunting season, that would soon be shaved off at the conclusion of the season. Then he would go through a few random growing stages before getting irritated with it and going back to the goatee.

Then in May he decided he would grow it out. I was not a fan of this, because I know I would miss the feeling of rubbing my face against his smooth face right after he shaved. But it grew, and grew and grew! We went out of town over the summer and he broke out his beard shirts that say, "Bearded for her pleasure!" and "Chubby, Tattooed, Bearded and Awesome!" Needless to say, the attention he received from EVERYONE helped encourage the beard even more! I on the other hand turned red every time someone would read his shirt, look at me, smile, then high five him....... For someone that doesn't easily get embarrassed, others discussing my pleasure did the trick!

Loving a man with a beard requires a sense of humor though! If there is ever a show about beards on Netflix or the Discovery Channel, the world stands still until it is seen. And I have to sit through them according to him so that I can "learn the lingo."  Then after he sees that show, he will learn some new grooming techniques. The internet is a bearded man's best friend and the things he can find are amazing! I on the other hand, could go without the endless phone calls of him wondering if his package came in the mail yet!

Showering is not a quick process anymore either. I've learned to give him about an additional 10 minutes, because of everything the beard requires. There is the "Beard Wash" and the "Pine Tar Soap" that gets thoroughly rubbed in while in the shower.

Then shit gets crazy after that. He has to put oil in it, and brush it out with his special boar hair brush! And no, I can't make this shit up. The oil he got is from a company called, Grave Before Shave. I think he bought it based entirely on the name of the company. It comes in scents called; Pine, Viking, OG, Hay RU............ Why doesn't Ralph Lauren make a beard oil?! I think I would prefer that scent more. Honestly, it's an entire production.

The production is worth it though, it turns the wiry hair into smooth and soft face fur. Reminder though ladies, if your man uses beard oil, no kisses or touching it for at least 10 minutes after he applies it. That shit has to "soak in" and if it hasn't, you smell like Pine also and it doesn't wash off easily!

Whenever we see other men with beards, there usually is a head nod of acknowledgement from both parties. It is like a silent, "Yeah buddy!" On occasion, there will be a high five exchanged. I always think they should go up to each other and rub beards, but I've been told that men don't do that as much as I think they should.

I never understood why the older men get the more they love facial hair. In recent years I've realized why. If they can't grow it on their head, might as well grow it on their face! So ladies, if your man has some scruff or even a full-blown face animal, embrace it and love it! He's trying to hold onto any hair he can!

Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Mama With Some Fake Tatas

I got a boob job when I was 19, a majority of people I know, know this. If you didn't, well now you do! Throughout all of my teenage years my chest looked more like that of a boy than a girl. When you had an ass and hips like I did (and still do), having no tatas was just plain awkward. I had zero confidence, and as much as I heard, "You are fine just the way you are," my mind was set that I would get implants.

Honestly I was obsessed with other people's fun bags, mostly because I was "shopping" around for what I wanted. On December 31, 2007 I went under the knife. I felt like shit for 2-3 weeks afterwards and even a car ride would put me in tears. It felt like I had softballs (that weren't so soft) duct taped to my chest. But after that third week I WAS IN LOVE! I honestly had the most amazing rack. Going from a 36B (and that's stretching it) to a 36D was the most exhilarating thing ever! I had this new found self-esteem about me and I was no longer self-conscious about what I looked like.

I have filtered a lot of questions from people, men and women, about my not-so-real sweater puppets.
-Yes, if you have implants you can still breastfeed. The implant is under the muscle.
-No, I don't have crazy scars, you can barely see them.
-Yes, you are able to feel the implant.
-No, you can't ACTUALLY feel my implant! Jason would not approve!
-No, they don't swish around like when you are water logged and you can hear water moving around your stomach.
-Yes, they will eventually need replaced.
-No, I did not lose all feeling in them after the surgery and before you ask, no, you can't check.

These were normal questions that I knew I would eventually be asked.

Then when I got out of the shower today I realized I had some realizations of my own.
-Yes, when I was pregnant they ballooned up to National Geographic proportions.
-No, they are not the same post-baby......
-Yes, I do HAVE to wear a bra now. My fun bags don't sit near my neck anymore.....
-No, bra shopping is not fun anymore. My post-baby melon holder size only comes in nude, black and white......
-Yes, I look forward to getting them relocated and re-sized when I know I'm done having kids.

I guess my twins were just on my mind today. I do not regret having having a cosmetic procedure done one bit. Honestly I think women should do whatever they want to do to make themselves feel good. You can't be a good wife or mother if you hate yourself. I don't hate my now sorta saggy, not so firm, way too big chesticles, I love them! I know that they are the way they are because of that crazy, smiling 10 month old that I love so much! But when the expiration date hits, this mama will be getting a new set of headlights!