Picking New Parents

I think after five days in a row of 24/7 family time, Baby Boy is over it.

I took him shoe shopping this morning, (sadly, Mommy didn't have time to decorate her feet for the holidays) and a young kid, Tim, was our clerk. Obviously nervous when a toddler was in his area, he was fun to watch as he fumbled with BB's little feet and passion for wanting pink sneakers. (As in chucking brown shoes across the room and yelling, "Need pink!")

When he was bending down to feel where BB's toe was, BB gently leaned down and kissed the top of Tim's (by the looks of it, not so recently washed) head.

He doesn't even kiss me.

THEN we went to lunch and a very pretty lady walked by. Baby Boy took one look and followed her all around the restaurant. When she finally discovered he was climbing into the seat across from her, I decided to take it personally.

To be fair, she was wearing a fabulous pair of pink boots.

Sexy Wreath Making Party

I received an email from a friend that she was having a Wreath Making Party tonight. I assumed, like a Book Club, it was an excuse to ditch the fam for a few, drink and gossip.

Upon entering the dining room, I saw women crouched in high levels of concentration, wearing GLOVES with personalized stem cutters sifting through crates of pine cones, berries, glitter and doves that they had brought.

I brought wine.

They saw me before I could flee.

"Where are your materials?" one asked, gaping in horror at my empty hands.

LIE: "I used them already during a marathon session another friend had this morning. My wrists are killing me!"

I sat down awkwardly at an empty stool and sipped (gulped) my wine, hoping someone would be like, "Yes! Finally someone I can talk with that isn't obsessed with leafy decor!"

Nope.

I tried to offer critiques, such as, " Maybe if you balanced off that cardinal with a Baby Jesus, it would look more Feng Shui..."

But I think next time I get invited to an arts and crafts night, I will decline in hopes a Book Club gets scheduled for the same night at a local bar.

Sexy Smart Phone

My Sister-in-law makes an insane chocolate cream pie and she surprised us with one yesterday.

When she left this morning, I was so excited that she had forgotten to take the leftovers with her. (I have already done many stealth finger-scoops when passing the fridge.)

My phone likes to assume what I am going to type, often changing very regular, correctly spelled words e.g. "diner" to "dinosaur" engaging in its own bizarre madlibs.

I just went to text S.I.L this: "I am so excited you left the pie here. I am going to eat the whole damn thing." And it changed THING to THIGH. Did I accidently download the Guilt App?

Smart phone? More like Smarty Pants phone...

Super Sexy (Legit) Emails

I hadn't checked my email in about two days. Come to find out, a lot can happen in two days.

Apparently, my luck fairies took pity on me and I won a million dollars in the (African) lottery; a prince wants to marry me (for a small fee, but I get all the crowned jewels when I get to Nambia!); a slew of super smart women who introduce themselves by, "I respectktful, sexy, descreet, hornee lady wants to meer you Mr.!" want to meet me (or my father?); and I can get a bigger penis with very reasonably priced Canadian drugs!

Christmas has come early! And my SPAM blocker is F.I.R.E.D.

PS DH is downstairs "working out" but I can hear DWTS blasting through the floor.

Truckin'

There is a fairly large (and unappreciated) development going in at the end of our road. One PRO to this is that ripping down large amounts of forest involve giant trucks. When the sun sets at 3pm this time of year, any activity that involves sitting in a warm car and keeps Baby Boy occupied for 20 minutes is also a PRO, my environmental inclinations aside.

At least two times a day, I idle across from the site, watching the workers buzz about and operate large engines that ROAR and RIP, and BB stares euphoric from the back seat.

Today, he pawed at the window wanting to say HI to the closest truck. When I put the window down, I saw a group a workers start laughing. They saw me staring, suddenly self-conscious.

"We see you watching us everyday," one called. "We didn't realize you had a kid in the back."

Damn you, tinted windows. Damn you.

Until You Dance a Circle in My Arms...

At music class today, one of the older toddlers begged the teacher, Matt, to carry him around when we danced in a big circle to the "Choo Choo" song.

When the song was over, Matt took a giant gulp of water and turned to face the 12 moms.

"I owe you all an apology," he said. "I never understood why you weren't all singing with me when dancing with your kids in your arms." He rubbed his shoulder. "I get it now! Those are heavy kids. You are all so strong!"

"Yes, but only on one side," I said.

If evolution is real, why do mom's still only have two arms??

Leave Me Alone...

On this unseasonably gorgeous November day (sadly, the sun still said he will set at 3pm), we decided to grab some sandwiches at the local gourmet market for a picnic. While I was at the register, Baby Boy darted between the wine racks. I didn't hear any crashes and I wasn't about to lose my place in line, so I let him roam. (Maybe he was about to find my new favorite Pinot?)

After I paid, I walked around the corner and heard a lady talking to him.

"Hi there handsome. My name is Lisa. What's yours?"

"Nan." (That's what he calls himself.)

"Why, aren't you such a big boy shopping all by yourself! What are you going to buy?"

Then I heard him grunt and in a voice borrowed from Satan he growled, "Go home. I'm pooping."

Ah, lovely. And I hadn't brought his diaper bag.

Case of the Mixed-Up Boyfriend

For some reason, my mom calls Baby Boy her boyfriend. As in, "Oh, this little guy? Yes, he's my boyfriend."

It was strange, but grandmothers will be as they be.

Now my mother has a real boyfriend.

She called this morning (she babysat BB a few nights ago) to regale me with a funny tale about "her boyfriend." She went on and on about how he likes spending all day in his jammies even when they are covered with food and the fuss he makes when he doesn't get a sponge bath before bed.

I still have no idea if she was talking about my two- year old son or her 75-year old mate.

Sexy Bathroom Break

I was at Whole Foods today and very much looking forward to lunch at their sushi bar. Having forgot something to read (and not wanting to sit there inviting small talk with my lack of something to do) I grabbed a Veg News magazine on my way by.

There was a wait for the bar, so I walked over to the bathroom. I didn't want to leave my magazine and risk someone else snagging it, so I took it with me.

As I walked in, a girl about four-years old sitting by the door says at the volume only four-year olds can.

"See, that lady takes mag-zines into the bathroom just like daddy does!"

As the door closed I saw everyone turn to stare at me. I stayed in there for a long time hoping they would all be gone by the time I got out. But I think they were all imagining that I was also doing what Daddy does in there.

I never got my sushi.

That's What Who Said?

I was getting waxed this morning. My regular gal was off on her honeymoon, and there was an older lady in her place. This makes me uncomfortable. Once you establish a relationship with your waxer, it is hard to just jump to another one, without even so much as dinner first.

I was getting the trifecta done: underarms, lower leg and Brazilian. The lady tried to hide the fact her hand was shaking while she lifted my leg over my head.

"Let's just jump straight to the hard part," she quivered.

Trying to soothe myself with humor, I squeaked. "That's what she said."

She cocked her head and stared at me, as a stream of hot wax dripped onto my inner thigh.

"That's what who said, dear?"

Guess someone is a little behind in The Office.