my child is not a lush

My children were spoiled during Christmas.

Not just in the over-abundance of toys from grandparents or the cookies crammed in by the mouthful, but my boys went through 5 bottles of sparkling juice over the span of the Christmas week.

I poured them each their own glass(es) in champagne flutes for the full effect until my father freaked out calmly told me that the glasses were from Germany and could not be replaced. So, I switched them out with the Target version of the white wine glass, nonetheless still made from glass and told them it was champagne.

I could see the word 'champagne' roll around in their little brains as they savored every last drop from their glass.

But now, Wyatt wakes up in the morning, climbs up the stairs in his footed pajamas, opens the refrigerator door and demands 'more champagne' (though he will also say 'lotion' because he has somehow figured the two most confusing words for a two-year-old to say must mean the same thing.)

So if you happen to hear my child ask for 'more champagne' (or 'more lotion') just letting you know, my child is not a lush





nor does he have some sort of freaky lotion love thing going on.

Champion of Christmas

"I'm the Champion of Christmas" Henry exclaimed as he jumped back and forth then side to side with this huge goofy grin on his face. He ran over and bear hugged my brother-in-law and my sister for giving him probably the best present he could have ever dreamed, a stop sign.

As much as I would love for you to imagine me as this bad a$ mom; driving her minivan around at 2:30 in the morning, pulling over on some dark, abandon road and ripping this stop sign off the post with her bare hands, this just isn't the case.

Sorry to disappoint.

But this gift has opened Henry's eyes to the potential of future Christmases. He sat on a stool in the kitchen between myself and my sister, looked squarely at her and said "Next year, I'd like a working stop light".


Disclaimer, as to avoid any potential felony charges, my sister helped in the clean up of the F-5 tornado that hit the Parkersburg, IA area in 2008. This stop sign was wrapped around it's post like a metal taco. It was taken down and replaced. The above sign was to be scrap metal.

it's a Christmas miracle

The Immaculate Conception, the birth of Baby Jesus, a picture with Santa with eyes opened and looking at the camera.

Exactly in that order.


I tease, of course.

The Merriest of Holidays from the Anti-Superfamily

mother's tree

I grew up with two Christmas trees. That's right, one in the living room with all those weirdo kid ornaments on it, that were made from Popsicle sticks, yarn and glitter with our picture glued somewhere in the middle; and in the den, our second tree, my mother's tree.

She decorated generally in themes, one year she even pulled out her treasured porcelain dolls. Those little dolls sat nestled among lace and floral baby's breath in the tree branches with their creepy glass eyes staring down at you as you tried to peek through the corner of the wrapped gifts (like they were going to tell on me or something, darn dolls).

So as an adult, I've opted out of getting two trees, but I have tried to keep my tree 'themed' (err, sans kid-made ornaments).

It has worked well for the past five year, until Sunday. Wyatt made an ornament at Sunday school; glitter, smiley head and all. I hung it on a magnet and stuck it on the fridge. I walked away thinking no one would be the wiser.

But the gig is up.

He yanked it off the fridge and put it on the tree all by himself. Adding insult to injury, Henry came home from school and just 'had' to make one just like Wu's.


So, now I have this absolutely perfectly shaped, beautifully decorated tree with two kid-made ornaments hanging (near the bottom) of the tree.

Ba humbug, I'll miss my mother's tree.

roommates

Wu has taken to sleeping with his head under his pillow. Not only does it look horribly uncomfortable (and yes, I do freak out for a slight second that he's not breathing under it, like any 'normal' mother would do), but every time I see him sleeping this way it reminds me of one of my roommates my freshman year of college who did the same thing.


Now, if Wu starts eating all my Mac'n'Cheese and vomiting on the carpet, covering it up with a bath towel and leaving town for the entire weekend; he better know that I'm fully prepared to kick him out too.

Consider this his warning.

jealous much?

I know that all of you not from Minnesota are jealous of our 25 degrees below zero temperatures (today it's -2, a warm spell) and snow drifts higher than humans, but I thought I'd let you in on another reason to hate us Minnesotans a little more, we've got Sasquatch.

story and photo courtesy of bringmethenew.com

Just in case this didn't make national news:

"Two hunters say they've captured photographic evidence of Bigfoot lurking in the woods norther of Remer, Minn. While local DNR officials remain skeptical, the Northern Minnesota Bigfoot Research Team is on the case."

Thank goodness the Bigfoot Research Team is on the case.

Keeping it exciting here in Minnesota (also know as: The only way we survive Winter).


If you haven't already, enter my Twilight Sea Turtle giveaway.

second chance - a giveaway

I wish they would stop advertising on the radio (said in my best radio personality, deep and manly voice) "get your last minute Christmas shopping done here". I have 10 days; at the minimum I have a full work week and a full weekend left to do my shopping. Last minute... whatever.

If I do happen to get the wrong present for the loved ones on my list in these final 10 days before Christmas Eve, you bet I'm including a gift receipt. (Read: people who may be giving me a gift, a gift receipt would be very much appreciated). A gift receipt says you care enough to give them the gift they really want; a second chance to get a gift they well, really wanted, just in case the floral dresser drawer liners weren't exactly what they were hoping for. (FYI this was a gift once given to me as a kid, but I'll keep the innocent, innocent.)

And anyway, who doesn't like second chances?

So, here's your own second chance, remember the Twilight Sea Turtle giveaway from this summer?


I already own the Twilight Sea Turtle and my two favorite parts: that it lights up (8) actual constellations on your ceiling or walls and that it has a 45 minute timer. Love it!

The Corner Stork baby gifts & more is giving away a Twilight Sea Turtle to one (1) of you. A second chance to win.

-leave a comment for an entry
-leave a second comment if you follow for an entry
-leave a third comment if you twitter about this - and copy in the link in your comment.

Easy, right? Now stop making fun of me for not having all my shopping done and being left with whatever they sell at the convenience store.



Disclaimer: I already was given the Twilight Sea Turtle in a past giveaway. I was given the opportunity to give away product for free and I like doing that. I like to wear underwear on my head and dance around naked too. Just seeing if you were reading this. Disclaimer end.

Welcome to Minnesota

Dear California license plate driver from last night,

Welcome to Minnesota!

I feel for you; really, I do. It must be a horrible shock coming from daily temperatures of 80 degrees to the 'feels like 18 below with the wind chill' temperatures of current.

Here's a few tips to make your winter driving with us a little better:

1. First and foremost, you will not die. Many, many people have survived Minnesota's winters. (Only rarely do people die).

2. I'm pretty certain if you made it with a car in California, you are not foreign to concept; your brake and gas pedals are in the same place as always. Use them accordingly.

3. Cold temperatures are not equivalent to: blizzards, freezing ice, blowing snow; meaning you may not find it necessary to drive slower than a 88 year old woman taking the cross walk all. winter. long.

4. You will need this thing called an 'ice scraper', preferably one with a brush and a very long handle.

5. Using said ice scraper, you may use a technique called tank vision to clear off your windshield, but this technique will only work if you remember to scrape off your rear view mirrors and are OK with rolling down your windows.

6. We may be some of the nicest drivers in the country, but come February... let's just say I suggest, if you are calling this place home, getting new Minnesota plates ASAP.

Sincerely,
Anti-Supermom

* feel free to add to the list, obviously this will be valid for the next 4 months or so.

d-list

So I met Christopher Straub from Project Runway this weekend. I don't know what it is when I meet celebrities, but I lose all my cool. The conversation went something like this:

"Christopher, it's so nice to meet you. I watched the show (I said 'the show' because I totally went blank on the name Project Runway and I almost said Design Star, who I'm sure are arch-enemies) all the time. I was rootin' for ya."


Like he's never heard that before.

And what just came out of my mouth; rootin' and ya?

He was nice though, he asked me my name and told me that he is most well-known for his underwear. (Which I almost got a pair for my husband since I found out he was autographing them that day - but it just felt wrong; to be getting underwear for my husband just for the signature on the darn things and talk about *not* setting the mood, "umm, yes honey, show me where it says Christopher Straub before we go any farther."

You should have seen me with Bob the Bachelor. Remember him?


And here is a picture of me with a Radio City Rockette - being that it's almost Christmas that's close enough to a d-list celebrity, right?

And then there was Katie Couric, when she was still sweet. I know she's higher than the d-list, but this was more like a paparazzi shot, equivalent to the d-list, where there was no chance in heck I was going to be able to actually say 'hello'.


Obviously my brush with celebrities is getting quite long. I need some suggestions on how to keep my cool next time I meet the guy who worked on the set with the stage hand who once said 'hi' to Brad Pit.

bite of the best

I wish I could sometimes be more like my children, forgo manners and etiquette, and just take a bite out of the best part of life. Just the good stuff, right in the middle and leave the rest to be dealt with by someone else.

.

But if you do happen to spy a cake with a middle piece cut out, leaving the (next in line) corner piece still in the pan, I will admit that it was me.

honeymoon stage

Another one of my email forwards, sent to me from the last to get married in the family brother. (Aaah, remember the honeymoon stage?)

Husbands of the year


(I laughed at this one because it reminded me of the first weekend my husband bought his bike; it stayed in the living room, he admired it from the couch and nicknamed it his 'Baby'.)



(This one is funny because Wu peeked under my elbows, saw this picture and said 'I wanna du that'.

Yes, that will be one lucky girl.

how I met my mother

One of the things Henry was really excited about when starting school was recess. It was the first thing he would talk about as I tried to pull teeth start a conversation about what happened in school that day.

"I played with so and so; we played cops, we were the bad guys." He'd chat from his seat right behind me as I looked at him in the rear view mirror.

He continues "The girls chased us around".

A few weeks later I learned there is a specific girl that chases him, her name is Laurie.

"Laurie chased after me, but I ran too fast for her to catch me... I'm never going to marry Laurie".

I laughed a little from the driver's seat of the minivan, of course (as all men do) he means the opposite; he really, really wants to marry Laurie. (FYI men, we are onto you doing the opposite of exactly how you feel, after all, we've all seen the movie he's just not that into you, right?

So, a flier comes in the mail from Henry's school and he asks to look at it. He points out Laurie (see, obviously this is love). I lean over his shoulder to take a look. *This is a small (and very poor quality picture of a picture, plus these are not my kids, so I had to block out eyes, fuzz imagines.... but you'll get the idea.

Hmm...Laurie... does she look like anyone we might know? Oh yes, me.

I know men are suppose to marry their mothers, but starting in Kindergarten?

monkey see, monkey do

I'm pretty sure no one noticed that you wore the spider shirt for the second day in a row, insisting that it was cleaned when I know you pulled it off the floor of Henry's closet. They probably did notice though that you were running around with wet pants from the milk you spilled on yourself, on purpose, that I refused to change. You have a bad habit of sucking your fingers whenever your blankie is in a 2 foot radius. You smell like maple syrup most days.

I'm pretty sure that no one noticed that I wore the same pair of jeans for the third time this week. They probably did notice though the ketchup stain on my shirt and the peanut butter in my hair. I have a bad habit of biting my nails. I love the smell of maple syrup.

Monkey see, monkey do.

My giveaway closes on Thursday - do it for the babies (they smell yummy too).

burst open

Our hometown is where Storypeople are created. Last night we walked the streets of downtown; admiring through the windows the Christmas displays, giggling as we ran across the near empty streets.

We hoped we could see the Storypeople workshop, but it was dark; boxes and brushes in the shadows, but on the other side of the store was some beautiful furniture, colorful frames and one particular vase that made my heart stop beating for a second or two, it said:

"There has never been a day when I have not been proud of you, though some days I'm louder about other stuff so it's easy to miss that."

In a long Thanksgiving weekend away from home with horrible, screwed-up naps, crying over turning off the television and refusing to drink anything other than orange juice, I just wanted to scream something out loud, I'm so proud of you, every day there is a moment that makes me feel like I'm simply going to burst open.



Got baby? Got Friend? (with baby). Enter my 'I shopped for you' giveaway.

Black Friday - a giveaway

(yawn, stretch, scratch butt) It's 5AM, do you know where your car keys are?

It's Black Friday, can you guess who got up early and went shopping for all of you? Me, that's right (no, not really but lets just pretend I did because it will be more fun that way).

CSNBaby.com who has some of the cutest nursery furniture, room decor and baby gear is hosting a Black Friday Giveaway here and this is what I picked out (so sorry that I didn't wrap it).


Skip Hop Pronto! Changing Pad kit. I like it because it's cute; because I have (sometimes) 3 kids in diapers and looking at this is cuter than looking at poop.


Even though I personally don't have a problem using nasty booster seats at restaurants, I do have problem with needing one in unusual places like the park or the zoo . I like this Jeep Anywhere Travel Booster Seat because it folds up and you can carry other stuff in it; like a sippy cup, a diaper, wipes (sigh) life made simpler.


Because we have three riding toys in our house, I'm making sure you have at least one: The Original Toy Company Tiny Trike. It's wood, has a cool retro toy feel to it and it has rubber coated wheels (your hardwood floors will thank you/me).



I'm all about hands free (even my stroller has a strap on it for goodness sakes) I love a non-girly diaper bag like the Diaper Dude. It has everything a diaper bag should, but in a fun way. It makes me think of Henry and his love of all things camouflage.






Last but not least, even though we all know I will knock my children out with Tylenol when necessary for the sleep of the entire household, sometimes a little something is the perfect something. I picked Olli Olbot Seed Warmer lamb, it has a removable bag of (homeopathic) spelt seeds that you can microwave. He reminds me of one of our favorite books too, Russell the Sheep. I puffy heart Russell.

The giveaway.

CSNBaby.com will give away one (1) of these items to one (1) winner. I hate a complicated giveaway, especially the day after a holiday, so... you don't even have to pick your favorite just yet:
- leave a comment for 1 entry
- follow me and leave a comment for a second entry
- twitter and link this giveaway and leave a comment with the tweet for a third entry.

(Get it, each comment is an entry).
Hopefully, your head doesn't hurt.

This is not a review. I received no products. I don't own these products. I received no compensation. I just like being able to give away free stuff that I think looks cool. The look on your face is thanks enough (err, that means the winner is going to have to email me a picture of them happy as a clam to have won, just kidding).

for future reference

Most the the time, (surprise) I don't know what I'm doing. Henry is my first child and so there are many, many instances where I just don't know what the heck a mother's to do. So here you have it: for future reference:

- 2 years old is too young to take a child to the dentist, taking them might cause an unneeded fear of dentists - thankfully, it was my husband who got the privilege of wasting his time learning this a couple years ago.

- You are suppose to brush their teeth until they are 7 or so, when they have a good pencil grip. (Our dentist had to tell me this too. We were/are still brushing his teeth, but man it gets to be one of those grow up already things.)

-But when I see the first baby tooth loose on my first born while brushing his teeth, it makes me want to cry, like sobbing hard cries.

-When I see an adult tooth growing behind his milk tooth, I shouldn't freak out, google it (because google has the answers to everything) and make my husband talk to the dentist before he can get his own cleaning and check up done.

-When the dentist tells my husband it will be fine to wait a month or two, I shouldn't take matters into my own hands.

-I shouldn't twist Henry's tooth a little too much, until starts to bleed a lot.

-I shouldn't try to put Henry's tooth 'back into place', because it was 'obviously not quite ready to come out'.

-I shouldn't sheepishly ask my husband 'if Henry can just go to bed or do we have to get it out because he might swallow his tooth in his sleep?' and get a look of concern, like I'm an unfit mother or something.

-I shouldn't laugh at my husband at the suggestion of Henry biting into an apple to get the tooth out, because 'it was way too loose for that too work'.

-I shouldn't try wrapping a string around his tooth, tell Henry 'it's going to hurt a little and that I'm going to just give it a yank', which makes him cry and then let my husband try the 'apple thing'.

-I shouldn't make a little bed for his now free tooth with Kleenex for the tooth fairy and then leave the room, tooth unguarded.

-I shouldn't lose his first baby tooth, hidden somewhere in the depths of his carpet to maybe be discovered right before he moves out of the house for college.



Poor, one less tooth, first-born kid.

these are the things

I'm amazed at children's ability to do the splits with no effort (or strain) at all. I'm amazed that they can dance off beat, throwing their skirts into the air without a care to the hundreds that might be watching. I'm amazed that a 5 year old can learn Chinese, that they see the subtle differences in one character versus another.

These are the things I can't do at 33, but these are the things that children can do, they are amazing, aren't they?

This is one of those, I'm blogging what I want to because it's my blog moments (and no one reads blogs on weekends anyways). I'm not bragging, I'm just wanted to post something of just how incredible kids are, their capacity for everything is well, amazing.

*Henry 10 weeks into Chinese Immersion*

(I can't get my youtube video to work... I've linked it...sorry).

the land down under

I was reading a meme in a friend's blog and stumbled upon a question: have you ever been to a strip club?

My first answer: 'No.' Then I remember I actually have been to a strip club.

I thought what a hilarious post that will make, a little something about my first and only time at a strip club. Lighten up the blog a bit, people can stop reading me being all whiny about my son and his ability to throw objects directly between my eyes. I sat down to write the post, tapped on the keys, racked through my distant memories and came up with...

nothing. I can't remember a darn thing about that night. Waves of whip cream memories come in and out of focus, but honestly, I might be making that up.

See, I was a 18 year old high school cheerleader invited to cheer in Australia. Who were we cheering for? A bunch of 18 year old high school football players asked to go over and show them Aussies some American football (yes, I agree, why in the heck?). With barely enough adult chaperons to look good on paper to our parents, we and our hormones boarded a full plane to visit the land down under.

It was obviously a genius plan from the start.

So, did you know that the legal drinking age in Australia is 18? As in you can get into bars, buy alcohol and well, see strippers?

I remembered this picture, taken (or so I think) right before we walked into the bar that was also conveniently a strip club. As you can tell I was obviously a mature, level-headed teen (what were my parents thinking?). Sadly, this is one of only a few pictures I took from my trip to Australia.

I feel like I should be wearing a shirt with this picture printed on it that says: I went all the way to Australia and all I got was this stinkin' photo. Well, that and a hangover.

The land down under indeed.

Last chance for the weekend getaway giveaway.

refrigerate after opening

Because keeping toys right between a couple gallons of milk, the orange juice and an Elmo sippy cup makes perfect sense.

My weekend getaway giveaway ends on Thursday.

messing up my life

It's been 5 years, 15 days and a few hours since I started being a stay-at-home / working-from-home mother (not that's I'm counting or anything). I left my career right after getting a huge raise, like a 15K raise. It didn't even tempt me. I knew that I wanted to be home with Henry, he was 10 months old and he was amazing. It was amazing, being there with him every day and feeling like I wasn't missing out on any one single moment.

Of course, there are moments when I'm wondering where I would be if I hadn't taken this path, if I wouldn't have chosen this. Would I have my own office by now? Would I get to take trips overseas? Would I be making money enough to take family vacations to Mexico, buy clothing from Gymboree?

I'm reminded more every day of the choice I made since having a two year old, a difficult two year old. I find myself thinking about my former life; especially when he screams, especially when he throws things at my head and especially when he prefers to stay in bed for 45 minutes waiting for Dad than I get him out.

Then I'm reminded that he is just two years old and that I will never get this time back. I can work in a job, in an office, commute on an overseas flight in ten or so years, or maybe not. Maybe I will never be able to get my foot back in the door, maybe I'll never get a respectable job again. Maybe this did mess up my life. Maybe I messed up my life.

But I'm along for the ride, messy or not.

when I was your age

'Son, when I was your age, I had to rub my hands together with liquid soap. I didn't have this newfangled, fancy dispenser that make foaming bubbles for you. That's right, I had to rub my own two hands together to make enough friction to make enough bubbles to get my hands clean. '

No wonder why my kids won't pick up their toys, they're too lazy to even wash their hands.

Of course, I'm the one that bought it.

WTF Wednesday

I love getting little reminders that I better get my children adorned in their matching Santa hats and near what may or may not be a Christmas tree ASAP. Even more, I love little reminders that make me laugh, thank you Snapfish for your 2009 Holiday catalog.

a page from this year's catalog

a closer look

What's that - "finesse later", are you sure you didn't mean 'finish later'?

Maybe... I suppose it could work.

But remember when I was laughing with my husband about this ad a couple month's ago

a closer look

You didn't even finish the sentence. "Choose your favorite design, add a favorite photo, and you're."

No wonder why you have me check that little square box like three times to confirm that you do not spell correct, edit or proofread my holiday card order. Obviously someone at Snapfish has problems with finishing or finessing or.

if pencils were pennies

If I had a penny for every pencil we've gotten since Henry's school has started, I'd be rich or at least, $2 or more closer to financing my children's higher education.

People, please stop giving away pencils to my child for: birthday school gifts, birthday favors, Halloween treats, general pirate themed things, dental visits, fire department open houses, city-wide events... Unless you hand out pencils with architectural plans to make our future million dollar home made solely from the pencils we get handed over the next 13 years, we my son will respectfully hopefully decline your pencil parting favor.

I cannot handle getting another pencil that my child will become semi-attached to because it was given to him from 'so-and-so'. I'm about to sharpen each one of them to a 1" lead (well, pencils aren't really made out of lead anymore and I wouldn't really want a potential lead poisoning, can you get graphite poisoning? I digress...) point and stab my eyes out with them.

I thank you. My already very crowded junk drawer thanks you.

Pioneer Press Peeps

If you found your way to my blog from the Pioneer Press article, 'hi'. Welcome to my little corner of the blogosphere. If you want to see a little more about who this snarky Anti-Supermom chic really is, here are some of my personal favorite posts:

Picture Perfect
how to get pooped on
Letters to God: 1 and 2
dirty talk

I also have a huge weekend getaway giveaway going on, just for one of my readers: 1 night in a 1 bedroom hotel suite, 4 water park passes and dinner. Just leave me a comment here and you are entered; no string, no spam.

Thanks for dropping in, leave me a comment and I'll make sure to visit you as well, cause I'm cool like that and a little bit needy.

little things - a weekend getaway giveaway

We love Eau Claire, Wisconsin for the little things. My husband's birthday is on the 4th of July and for the past two years, we've gone to Eau Claire to celebrate.

On the night of the 4th, we wind up this hill alongside hundreds of others to reach the baseball park where Hank Aaron himself once played. We spread the blanket out on the middle of the baseball field and wait for the countdown to begin; 5,4,3,2... the sky instantly blackens and the fireworks start. Can you get any more Americana than that?

So when I attended BlogHer this summer and was handed a card for a weekend in Eau Claire sponsored by visiteauclaire.com, I thought that I was given the golden ticket.

Eau Claire is exactly what we are looking for in a weekend away when it's the little things that matter. So here's a little bit of the little things from our recent trip.

I was gifted $50 to spend at Action City. When I walked in the door, my first impression was 'this place is crazy expensive', but in 2 1/2 hours my family of four drove these really fun, fast race cars, played a game of laser tag, a round of miniature bowling, (Henry and my husband) climbed the rock wall and each one of us played a bunch of Chuck E. Cheese style games. It turned out to be a great deal, it was an afternoon filled with things out of the ordinary.

I was gifted a night's stay at The Metropolis Hotel, which is part of the Chaos Water Park Resort. The room was not your typical room; the decor was fun, the room had a microwave, a refrigerator, a tall table and bar stools and two sinks. The coolest feature was once you entered the room, you had to put your key card into this slot to activate the lights/heat (meaning when you pull the card out to leave, the lights and heat turned off automatically, eco-friendly stuff!).

Last, I was gifted passes to Chaos Water Park. This place is awesome. The kids area was one of the best we have ever seen; it had 4, count them four, little water slides that even my 2 year old could go down by himself since the toddler area's water depth was between 0" and 1 foot. I love that children 3 and under cost only $2 (which basically covers the cost of the swim diaper that they provide for you). They also have life jackets on hand for you to use for free and the lockers are 2 bucks and you get a key (meaning you can go in and out of the locker as much as you need and not push quarter after quarter in for a one time use, fabulous!).

It is the little things that count for us but I do like to think big so I asked visiteauclaire.com if they could give away another trip and well...

For one of my readers:
-A 1 night's stay at the GrandStay Eau Claire hotel (which rocks because you don't have to go to sleep when your kids do because it's a one bedroom suite)
-4 passes to Chaos Water Park
- A $20 gift certificate to the restaurant of your choice (this is for those out of town readers that won't be able to make it to Eau Claire, WI because I love you guys too!) .

*Leave me a comment (FYI - you don't have to be a blogger, just add your email address in the comments and you are entered; no spam, nothing, promise)
*Follow me publicly and leave a comment that you follow me
*Twitter this giveaway, including a link to this post and leave a comment that you tweeted about it.

A big thanks again to visiteauclaire.com.

If you haven't checked, it may be closer than you think, it's only 1 1/2 hours away from the Twin Cities. You should visit Eau Claire too.

*

Giveaway open until November 19th. Random.org will pick 1 winner for it all or if needed 2 (1 to win the restaurant gift certificate and 1 to win the hotel stay and water park passes).

to be fair

Honestly, it was freezing cold on Halloween. I was going to chicken out on wearing the ridiculous ladybug costume. The weather was my perfect excuse but well, that just wouldn't have been fair after all that I complained about it.

And since I'm laying it all on the table, I didn't want to post pictures from Halloween either. There isn't any one picture that is particularly blog worthy but to exclude pictures when so many of you asked to see them, that just wouldn't have been fair either.

My children did love me as a ladybug. Wu was even trying to grab for a boob or something in this photo, which of course, he wouldn't be able to find in this costume.

But last, I thought it wouldn't be fair for my readers to miss out on the costume that my husband chose for himself.

That's right, all's fair in love and war love.

so not hot

My husband decided he wanted to go to my cardio kickboxing class at the gym. He was all like 'Am I going to be the only guy?' 'No, there are a few other guys' I responded. I failed to mention that one of the guys is a 70 or 80 year old man, God bless his soul and that the other guy isn't really the man's man type, after all he wears sweatbands (yes, I used the plural) around his head and around his wrists.

The non-man's man missed this class, but God bless his soul was there.

And so, the class starts. I wouldn't say that I'm a pro or anything, but I've bee taking the class for more than a year and I'm pretty good at punching at the pretend and round-housing the worst of my day out.

My husband is not.

The teacher starts some combinations: jab, jab, hook, upper cut... jab, jab, hook, upper cut...

I glance at my husband in the mirror: jab, upper cut, some sort of leg kick, a body spasm...


I see he is starting to sweat, heavily. He's got this look of concentration, visibly straining his forehead muscles.

The class moves on to kicks: right kick to the front, squat, left kick to the back...


Watching my husband in the mirror; he kicks to the front, puts his foot down, kicks to the back, he ends up stuck in this accidental splits.

He is not in one of his most attractive poses. I'm starting to think taking a class together is *not* the hottest idea in the world, after all if I ever want to think about having sex with this man again; this partial split; sweaty, strained face imagine being burned into my head at this moment might not be help in setting the mood.

Then I start taking a look at myself in the mirror; I've been wiping the sweat off my face and rubbing it on my pants, my tank top has these nice sweat stains under each boob because I absolutely fail the pencil test, and my bangs are sticking up in every direction since I have to keep pulling my headband back into place. I start thinking 'I'm not looking so hot myself, maybe he's thinking exactly the same thing: my wife is looking pretty disgusting, I'm never going to be able to have sex with her again.'

Then I remembered...
he's a man.

you win again

We will not be raking you up once again this weekend.