Hair Clippers Mishap

I simply cannot explain what happened without crying.

Needless to say, the Little Man needs a professional barber,
who apparently is NOT ME!!!

Irrational Fear

Apparently I am full of irrational fears.

It's amusing how once you birth children, the world becomes an amazingly dangerous place. Suddenly your child-less friend's living room is like a mine-field -- all those pointy, sharp corners on the coffee table; the fragile, glass knick-knacks that glitter and beckon to your wee one; the jagged stone fireplace base that screams stitches required for all forehead trippers; the tiny, precious bric-a-brac that would lodge perfectly in your child's throat if they are allowed to get it into their drooly mouth; the ever present flat screen TV that threatens to smoosh your wee one into nothing-nesss.  Well, today's story is nothing about those fears.

It's about something that is so much more realistic and likely to happen... an evil arachnid eating your face off as you innocently relieve yourself in the lavatory.

TRUE STORY!

Over the weekend, I went to sit down on our throne to simply pee. As I pulled my pants down and my dimply cheeks hit the toilet seat, I glanced to my immediate left at the bathroom vanity where the toilet paper dispenser thingy is. To my absolute horror, I saw THIS SPIDER.

The Evil Beast was sitting on top of the toilet paper preparing to launch itself at my poor, unsuspecting self -- and at one of my most vulnerable moments! I had my pants around my ankles.  I promise you, if I hadn't already been sitting on the porcelain throne, I would have wet myself right then and there!!!  I could tell The Spider was contemplating which part of my face was the most tasty, trying to decide if he should first go for my plump cheeks, or the whites of my eyeballs...  I was so frightened that I almost forgot how to scream. 

Mind you, I said ALMOST!

I let out an impressive blood-curdling scream that was truly worthy of a teeny-bopper meeting her end in a slasher horror flick.

I heard a stampede of tiny feet flinging their bodies towards the bathroom door to see what all the hullabaloo was about.  Little Man was the first to arrive.

While I pointed in terror at The Spider still happily occupying the top of the toilet paper roll, Little Man took one look and said, "Eww!" and then ran for the safety of my bedroom.

Diva was next to arrive on the scene.  She quickly spotted the intruder and shrieked, "Ann! Quick! Grab your pants!"  I was still so panic stricken that I had not moved a millimeter.

Little Princess barrels into the bathroom.  When she sees what we are all freaking about, she heaves a huge sigh, rolls her eyes and says, "Oh please! It's just a a tiny spider." With a quick flick of her wrist, she launches The Spider off the top of the toilet paper and throw the air AT ME!!!!!!!!

Insert another mind-blowing scream! Along with every limb I own flaying wildly around me.  My hair is flinging round my head, my arms and legs are doing the crappie flop as if I have been electrocuted or stung by a thousand bumble bees at once!!!

I don't need to share the rest of the story that may, or may not, include tripping myself with pants around my ankles, undies flying one direction and an even more undignified fall head first into the safety of the hallway. it will suffice to say -- It wasn't pretty.

But I am happy to report that I escaped The Spider unscathed. However, the sad news is, The Spider is still at large in my home!

Oh and for the record, apparently, Little Princess (age 5) says The Spider was only THIS BIG:

I ask you, my dear bloggy friends,
who are you going to believe?
The five-year old or ME?!?

Hilarious Circumc.... Story

WEE ONE WARNING!
Do not let children old enough to read be near you unless you want to face
several uncomfortable questions that you may not be ready to answer...

So on Wednesday I posted about joining the Time Travel Tuesdays blog hop and I came across the absolutely most hilarious post ever at All Fooked Up from January 2011. I so wish I could have the courage to be so candid with my mom-in-law. Holy Funny, Batman! Hop over to Lynn's blog, All Fooked Up and read the "recycled" post about circumcision.

POST BELOW:

Today I’m going to discuss circumcisions. Specifically my views on circumcision and a conversation I had regarding such views. Now, this conversation took place quite some time ago so I’m going to try to tell the story without actually offending the people in the story. I’m not too concerned about offending you, the readers, because a) I don’t know you and b) even if I do know you I don’t care and 3) it’s my blog and I can damn well discuss what I like because d) you can stop reading this whenever you want. But you won’t because this story is HILARIOUS.


So, about 20 some odd years ago when Kevin and I had just gotten married but BEFORE we had kids, we were having a conversation with Kevin’s parents and the conversation turned to circumcision. Someone, who shall not be named (that sounds like Voldemort doesn’t it….”He Who Shall Not Be Named”), had a little boy and the parents had decided that the child shouldn’t be circumcised and the following conversation took place:


Key: Me (that’s me). MIL (that’s my mother-in-law). BOY (boy infant in question)


MIL: “They (the parent’s) have decided not to circumcise BOY”


Me: “They need to circumcise him”


MIL: “No Lynn, they’ve done a lot of research and they’ve decided not to”


Me: “He definitely needs to be circumcised!”


(Kevin is starting to look concerned as he watches the typical verbal tennis match between his mother and I – we argue about everything. Kevin’s dad is quietly listening but not commenting)


MIL: “Things have changed Lynn. There is a lot of medical research now that says that circumcision isn’t necessary”


Me: “I’m telling you. It is necessary. The kid needs to be circumcised”


(Now Kevin’s dad is starting to squirm around. His face is going redder … and redder … Kevin is starting to get uncomfortable and is looking at me concerned)


MIL: “I’m not sure that you’re aware of all the new research Lynn”


Me: “The hell with the research. He needs to be circumcised”


MIL: (Starting to get visibly upset…agitated even) “Why? Why do you keep saying that Lynn?”


Me: “It’s just really important”


MIL: “WHY? WHY LYNN, WHY?”


Me: “Why MIL? I’ll tell you why!”


(OK, Kevin’s starting to panic. I can see his face going white. You never know what’s going to come out of my mouth at this point and I was in my 20’s without the incredible self-control that I now exhibit)


Me: “are you sure you want to know?”


(Kevin is really scared and his dad is beginning to turn purple…)


Me: “Because Allison” (wait for it … wait for it!) “… if he doesn’t get circumcised there’s no way that kid is EVER going to get a BLOWJOB!!!”


OMG! All hell broke loose! Kevin’s dad started choking from laughing so hard. His face was a shade of purple that I have never seen on a human being before. Kevin was as white as a sheet that I had just said that to his parents and Kevin’s mom was in a catatonic state of shock. This was definitely not what she thought I was going to say. But seriously, that’s a pretty god damn compelling reason. I mean gals out there, right? No one wants a penis with a hoodie, do they? I know I don’t, or I didn’t back then. And I haven’t been around but one in the last 25 years or so and there sure as hell was no Hoodie on that one. I made SURE that Daniel’s hoodie was taken care of right at the get go.


So yeah, that conversation was priceless. I’m not sure his mother ever recovered and the BOY in question never got a circumcision but I stand strong in my opinion. I’ve never had a run in with a guy with a hoodie and I really can’t say whether the kid ever got a blowjob but I was just doing my part, watching out for the welfare of a minor. Do you agree? Or disagree? I really don’t care…I was just asking.

Failure is Not an Option

I recently shared the F My Life website, which is always good for an ironic, high-school kind of laugh.  Well, I've now been referred to Epic Fail, another grand place to find a great laugh and after attending yesterday's funeral for my much too young cousin's (57-years old), I need a bit of cheering up.

Here are a few examples of Epic Fails!

WEE ONE WARNING!!!
Bad word in this 15 second video.





Submitted by Anon



Submitted by Angel S.



Submitted by Steve L.




Submitted by Jerry M. , Jami M.

You Know You Are A Mom When...

* you reach into your coat pocket, you pull out a Matchbox car, purple crayon, My Little Pony barrette, and used tissue before you fish out your car keys.

* the only writing utensil in your purse is a red Crayola marker.

* your spouse calls your purse your "five-day bag" because it's so massive and holds so many "I-may-need-this-someday" things.

* you only have Scooby Doo, VeggieTale, and Dora the Explorer bandaids.

* you where above stated, children bandaids to your professional place of employment.

* in a pinch, you are willing to wipe your wee ones snotty nose with your bare hand -- and you don't gag or even think twice about it.

* your idea of a relaxing Saturday morning includes grocery shopping without the wee ones.

* Perkins or Applebee's is considered a "fancy" restaurant.

* you consider it a major accomplishment to get out of the house in the morning with a clean shirt free of children's bodily fluids or latest meal.

And last but not least,

* you sing along to the VeggieTales CD in the mini-van AFTER you've already dropped off the wee ones.

My baby sister absolutely adores the website F*** My Life.  I find it quite amusing in a totally adolescent way.  It definitely shows the irony of life on a daily basis.  Some of my favorites FML moments I've read on the site include:

Today, I woke my husband up at 2am, screaming that there was a badger in our bedroom. We both screamed for a bit until he finally says, "What are we screaming about!?" I took a second look at the badger, and realized it was my four year old daughter with her blanket. FML

Today, my boyfriend and I decided to do something different and go to the park. There, we saw a mama duck lead her baby ducks to the pond only to be attacked and killed by two male ducks. FML

Today, I once again told my son he needed a job because I simply could not keep him in my house anymore. He yelled, "No, I can do whatever I want!" Then went back to playing video games. He's 38. FML

Today, while waiting on tables at work, I was carrying a glass of red wine when I lost balance and spilt it everywhere. After cleaning the floor and myself up and after refilling a new glass, I did exactly the same thing again. FML

Today, I awoke to make-up all over my face and nail polish on my hands and feet because my daughter wanted "daddy to look pretty." I have a job interview in an hour and none of it is coming off. FML

And my personal favorite recently...

Today, my "friend" told me I was weird and irritating. Yet she has an unhealthy obsession with Harry Potter, hates people in general, and has a facebook account for her cat. Yeah, I'm the weird one. FML

Spring Feet Lament by Frantic Mommy

From one Minnesota Mommy blogger to another!

I absolutely adored Frantic Mommy's post lamenting the way we, as Northerner's living in the freezing icy tundra, neglect our feet during the winter months and then have a wee bit of shock as we discover how offensive our feet have become -- and how much work it takes to get them back up to snuff for sandals.  Please enjoy her HUMOROUS and all too true (!) depiction of my love-hate relationship with feet...


Spring Is Here. Time For My Spring Feet Lament

OK..well, I think it's Spring. As I type this, it's April 24th and I woke up to SNOW on the effing ground!

SNOW!

From my office, I can see the lake..and I also hear the seagulls bee-atchin and some pissed-off-sounding ducks.

Even they are saying WTF?

But the "effing snow" won't last long and I can get back to my recent issue at hand....my FEET.

Some people treat Spring as a time to clean and renew. I, like clockwork, bitch about my FEET.


Dear Feet,
Why, oh why, hast thou betrayed me? You were like a part of me..oh wait..you ARE a part of me and something is strangely amiss. I know I should not have ignored you those long winter months when you were jammed into socks, more socks, and big stinky snow boots. But you were well hidden and protected so as long as you kept me upright, I pretty much took you for granted.

Now, as warmer temps have finally started to show themselves, my thoughts have turned to Capri's, tank-tops, and sandals. And I've also noticed something very, very disturbing....

...you look like hell. AGAIN.

Now don't get me wrong, I appreciate your ability to navigate my fat tail from place to place, and you enable me to occasionally look stylish in shoes. BUT something drastic must have happened about 6 years ago. Somewhere around the seventh month of my last pregnancy. I have vague memories of your normal appearance, but now..well..you look like something that should be on the end of Bilbo Baggin's legs. Shrek has better looking tootsies than you, honey.

So I desperately try to repair the damaged done. But the skin on my heels look like a lizard's butt. And Gawd help me, what's up with the hairy toes?

That's one place I never thought I'd have to shave.

So I struggle, buff, scrub, lotion, and cajole my sad feets. I vow to "pretty you up" with new lovely shades of polish and swear I will not neglect you next Winter Boot Season.

But truth-be-told, if ugly was a chronic condition, you'd need an intervention. I will valiantly try to make you look better, but the reality is Dear Feet-O-Mine, putting nail polish on you is a little like putting lipstick on a pig.

It is, what it IS.

Love,
The Large Body Attached to You.

Side NOTE: Looks like another Tennis-Shoe-&-Loafer Summer for moi. *sigh*

A good foot is a terrible thing to waste.


* * * * *

I strongly encourage you  to step over to Frantic Mommy's blog and show some love.  She is so hysterical -- although I guess I am partial to fellow Minnesota Mommy Bloggers.

Green and Furry

Last night while watching the people movie version of "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas" I had a very enlightening conversation with the wee ones.  It goes something like this:

Little Man asks: "Mom, is the Grinch real?"

Me: "No, it's not real, but some people can act like the Grinch. I know a woman who doesn't like Christmas at all."

Little Man and Little Princess gasp loudly.

Little Man: "She's a real Grinch?" (he pauses furrowing his darling brow) "Is she furry like him?"

Me: "Well, um, no!"

Little Man inquires seriously: "Is she green?"

Me (shaking my head): "No, she's not green."

Little Princess pipes up, ever the voice of reason: "Then she definitely isn't a Grinch.  Maybe she's just a hater?"

INSERT MY EYES POPPING OUT OF MY HEAD...

"A 'hater'?" I squeak. "Where did you learn that word?"

Princess smiles widely, "Word Girl!"

Now, I may be a bit out of touch with pop culture, but I am quite sure that PBS Kids did NOT teach my wee ones what a "hater" is.  Hmmmm.... I may need to ban all electronic media.

I ended up just bursting out loud laughing as I said, "Okay! Everyone just finish watching the movie..."

Family Field Trip

The wonderful amazing uniqueness of individual electronic equipment.

Family field trip. Driving “up north” to visit husband’s dad and then on to Duluth for a quick family stay-cation at an indoor water park.

Husband is listening to AC/DC’s “Dirty Deeds” or Metallica’s “Master of Puppets” on headphones, while I am using my laptop (without headphones, held up close to my ear!) to have K-Ci & Jojo belt out “Crazy” and “Tell Me It’s Real” between Prince’s “P*ssy  Control”. The eldest daughter is listening to Taylor Swift on the rear minivan speakers and the wee ones, Little Princess and Little Man, are watching the movie “How to Train Your Dragon” on the teensy-tiny portable DVD player in the middle seats.

I’m doing my version of a hip hop chair dance in the passenger seat while Husband is sticking his tongue out like Kiss, banging his head and doing that rocker “hang loose” hand signal thingy.  Big E is mortified in the back seat, attempting to pretend that she is too cool to be seen with us – which are extremely hilarious since we’re cruising down the freeway at almost 80 mph and there isn’t anyone around to make fun of us.  Except perhaps the folks in the cars we pass… I suppose they could laugh at us, but I think they would consider us free entertainment. A break from the tedious, boring drive on a MN freeway with nothing to look at except dormant trees, dirty snow banks, and ice-covered bodies of water.

Besides, I consider the fact that I am able to easily embarrass my children as my God-given privilege for putting up with all of their whining, bickering, sassing.

Life is good.  Go us!

Boulder Holder

I was fairly sure that I wouldn't blog about this episode, but I just decided I couldn't resist.  For those of you who are easily embarrassed, just click away RIGHT NOW!

You have been warned...

You know those bras you have that just don't fit right but you have no choice but to wear them because it's the only one that isn't in the bottom of the dirty clothes basket because Husband promised he would do all the laundry while you were busy at a million meetings on behalf of your children's PTA or Girl Scout Troop or anyway... and apparently, he neglected to do any of your laundry -- or any laundry at all... ?

*ahem*

Well, I had one of those on several weeks ago.  All morning it was rubbing me the wrong way and in all the wrong places.

I adjusted.

I pulled.

I shifted.

I itched!

Finally I left the office to go pick up my Little Man from preschool.  While waiting for the light to change at the intersection, I decided I had had enough.  I was ditching this boulder holder...

We've all done it... the amazing bra removal trick that doesn't require you to taking off your shirt. You know the one -- UNHOOK clasps in back, pull strap down through one arm sleeve, REACH THROUGH THE OTHER ARM HOLE and pull the bra out. VOILA!

SIGH!  Aaahhhhhhh! Instant relief.

Then, I look to the left to find an entire van full of construction workers watching me with big bright handy-man smiles... SWEET!

I rolled down the window and called out:

"That will be $10, you freaks!"

Last time I did the amazing bra trick and was caught, it was a car full of voyeuristic teenagers, male and female, in Mommy or Daddy's convertible Corvette. I simply looked at them said, "Yeah, your tits will sag this bad one day too. Good luck with that" and drove off.

iPhone 4 vs HTC Evo

This is a naughty video that includes lots of swearing, so do NOT listen to it if you have children or highly impressionable folks around.  Enjoy!  Since Husband is a techy -- and a Microsoft Windows loving one, which equals Apple/Mac hating, I had to post this video.  Hee hee!!!


iPhone 4 Battles HTC Evo - Watch more Funny Videos

Truths

I am lucky enough to tell you the "Six Truths in Life."

1. You cannot stick your tongue out and look up at the ceiling at the same time. It is a physical impossibility.

(No, this is not my ceiling.)

2. All idiots after reading #1 will try it.

3. And discover #1 is a lie.

4. You are smiling now because you are an idiot.

5. You soon will forward this to another idiot.

6. There is still a stupid smile on your face.

I know how you feel... another idiot friend of mine sent this to me in an email. I sincerely apologize for this posting. I was so sure that I could do this trick especially since I have such a talented tongue. I never stop talking, so my wagging tongue gets lots of exercise.  Evidently my pride got the worst of me and obviously, I'm an idiot since I tried this out immediately and, well, since I needed company, there isn't a better place to go than to my friends…

Good times!

Robin Williams

I've probably posted about this before, but it still cracks my arse up -- AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN!!! It contains some very naughty words, so put the wee ones in their room for a few minutes and listen...

Rusty Sneaky Skills

When you share a bed with the same person for lots of years, you establish some “unwritten rules” of behavior. For example, it is not okay for me to wake Husband up to tell him about something I just thought of that was really funny. He will not find it amusing. Another example, it is not okay for him to wake me up to ask me if I am sleeping or what time I am planning on waking up. Simple things to keep a marriage going and prevent one unsuspecting individual from being pushed out of bed at importune moments.

I have a confession to make. I break one of these rules every chance I get.

You see, I have been banned from reading certain kinds of books in bed. Why you ask? Because “allegedly” I wake up Husband every time I read these certain books in bed. Okay, so… I’ll admit to occasionally laughing. Perhaps out loud. I attempt to behave myself and sometimes try to hold the laughter in. However, that tends to result in me shaking the bed so hard it wakes him up simply because I am laughing so hard and trying not to make a noise – all so as to not wake him. Or it results in the loud laugh-snort. None of it works. I laugh. Out loud. Every time. Thus...

THE BAN!

So last night I was ready. I came to bed as if everything was normal. I had my water (ahem, Diet Pepsi), my phone and my book.

“Freeze!” He looks at me hard.

“What?” I mutter in my most demure manner.

I was ready. You see, I am onto Husband. Ha! I knew he might be checking up on me so I did what any rational person in this situation would do. I put a different book cover over the “offending” book so it appeared to NOT be my forbidden fruit of hilariousness.

“What do you have?”

“Ummm, a drink, my phone and a book.” I held the book up for him to see. He looked doubtful but let it go.

I silently giggle and crawl into bed.

Within five minutes, I am giggling and trying to hold it in. By the second chapter, I am laughing out loud and trying desperately to be quiet.

“Hand it over!”

I jump. I thought he was asleep. “What? Huh? What do you mean?”

He lays there with his hand outstretched waiting for me to hand over my book.

“That is SO unfair!” I pout and hand over the book.

I guess I need to continue working on my plotting, sneaky skills.

Check [Card], Please

Cruising down the road with the windows open listening to Katy Perry sing Hot & Cold. We pull into the parking lot of the grocery store and I hear my dear Little Man say something so I turn down the music. "What?" I yell into the back seat as my eyes zero in on a prime parking spot that is close to the door, as well as the cart corral. (Score!)

"Do you have your check card?" I'm not sure I heard him correctly, so I ask "What?!" again.

The poor boy is now frustrated that he's being asked to repeat himself for a third time, so he sighs heavily and slowly says, "Mom! I said, do you have your check card?"

"Huh? Why would you ask? Of course, I have it." I'm genuinely puzzled. The wee ones often come up with random questions about the odd thoughts flitting around their head. I mean these children of mine are all geniuses! Right?! They are always, always thinking of something but it's usually how-many-Lincoln-Logs-tall-am-I or can-a-snail-bite-me or can we have cotton candy for lunch already - Jeez!

So the Little Man says, "You forget it a lot."

No, I don't. Oh wait! Oh my goodness... he's right!

I turn off the engine, now that I'm parked in my super sweet never-get-this-lucky-on-a-Saturday-spot and grab my huge "five-day-bag" (as Husband -- and now the children -- likes to refer to my purse) that I carry everywhere. I check the outside smaller pocket, then the second larger pocket and then small, inside third pocket. Finally sighing at myself, I check my wallet where it's most likely to be. Then I see it, perfectly clear, in my mind's eye. It's sitting on the kitchen counter next to my drivers license next to the sink. I had put it in my pocket this morning to go on a walk with the children and I meant to put them back in my wallet and, of course, didn't.

I spin around and look straight at him. He stares back at me with huge, blue eyes and looks slightly alarmed. "Oh man! I forgot it!" I say.

He starts to laugh. He keeps laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing... until, even Big E (who was sitting in the far back seat, minding her own business reading Harry Potter Book Umpteenth AGAIN) looks up and begins laughing. She may not know why she's laughing but Little Man is so hysterical that she joins in... Even I end up laughing, knowing that I'll have to park clear on the other end of the lot when we come back. (Damn it!)

He's starting preschool shortly. In a real brick building with real teachers and new faces and hot lunch. I worry about him some days, but I think he'll be just fine.

Swagger

I don't think I've posted bout this yet, but I've been meaning to for several weeks...

I LOVE the Swagger Wagon commericals. The marketing firm who created these fantastic white folk characters rock my world. When you think of stuck-up, car pool driving, cul-de-sac-living, self-proclaimed perfect suburban parents -- aren't these the images that your mind conjours up? Mommies and Daddies who jump around, re-living glory days of their fantastic college life before they became hip parents?

Enough snarky comments from me. Watch the videos and laugh at the characterizations. I know I will.

MotherBi*ches

As I was surfing mommy blogs last week, I found the fantastic slogan of:

MotherBitches: What the mean girls of junior high turn into when they age and than procreate.

LMAO!

Passive Agressive

Truly laughed out loud at this posting from Passive-Aggressive Notes. OMG! Too funny. I have experienced a few notes from my now nine-year old that are about as funny as these notes but unfortunately, I am so unorganized that I can't for-the-life-of-me find them at this moment. You gotta read these...

LOVE IT!

Billie Jean

Once upon a time, I posted about a fantastically, un-traditional opening to a wedding ceremony where the wedding party got their groove on as they made their way up the aisle to the alter. I am excited to report that as it turns out, the frolicking, boisterous nuptials took place in my hometown of St. Paul, MN. GO US! "Us" being normally boring, ol', crusty, stoic Midwesterners! We can be creative and fun -- if a bit wacky.

I digress...

Today's posting is about dancers at the opposite end of the age spectrum as our favorite wedding party dancers. Today we celebrate some humorous and good natured senior citizens (euphemism for wacky, dancing, 70+ year old gray-hairs!) I think viewing this video has cured my "gerontophobia" and given me some hope that perhaps I don't have to turn into a stodgy, decrepit, crusty old person. I hope I have half this much energy and sense of humor at 70+. I pray I am known for being spunky, feisty, lively...



http://www.urlesque.com/2010/02/01/old-people-dance-billie-jean/?icid=mainhtmlws-main-ndl5link3http%3A%2F%2Fwww.urlesque.com%2F2010%2F02%2F01%2Fold-people-dance-billie-jean%2F

Doritos

This is positively my favorite commercial that ran during the Super Bowl. I LOVE this kid!