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That title is about to get a little more funny.
Read on. You’ll see.
This past weekend, a pregnant chick I had just met was talking about this new cupcake place she had been to. She said the cupcakes were amazingly delicious. She mentioned that one cupcake had salted caramel frosting and she loved it.
I had never heard of salted caramel before. I like salt. I like caramel. But together? I needed convincing.
And anyway, this woman is pregnant… her tastebuds can’t be trusted, can they? I know mine were whacked out when I was pregnant.
Still, I was intrigued. Read more on I am a master baker!…
Most guys are complete wusses when they’re sick.
(HA! I just wrote “pregnant” instead of sick. That was funny. Anyway…)
Most guys, when sick, roll around in agony, whine in misery, certain that they are writhing on death’s doorstep.
Not Clint.
This man has the immune system of an elephant.
(This is, of course, assuming elephants have excellent immune systems. I, for one, have never seen a sick elephant, so I’m going with that analogy.)
And the suck-it-up-ness of something equally tough.
(Sorry, I’m out of animal analogies. My brain is still stuck on sick elephants.) Read more on PhotoBlog: Impromptu…
Our movie was due back in 50 minutes and Clint had his shoes on, keys in hand, ready to walk out the door. I grabbed him by the shirt, pulled him toward me and whispered in his ear, “You know what makes me hot?”
Wow. Just, um, yeah. Wow.
That is my eloquently worded review of Sex and the City 2.
[Warning: I am about to spoil much of the movie, so if you haven't seen it, don't read this. Also, if you are a die hard SATC fan who thinks that everything SATC is amazing... you might hate me by the end of this.]
I posted here about the topic for next week’s vlog being your entertaining labor and delivery stories. Although the emails have been flooding in (and by flooding in, I mean, um. One. No, wait, that was me emailing myself. So, none) I’m wondering if we should just start this whole vlog thing off with a bang and talk about the ever-so-embarrassingly hilarious sexual stuff.
After getting pregnant with Colby by merely holding hands (swear!), then our IUD baby Lily, and then twins, it was quite clear that Clint and I were insanely fertile. At one of my first OB appointments after finding out about the twins, I informed my doctor that I definitely, 100… no 1,000% wanted my tubes tied on the operating table.
I knew it was coming. There’s just no avoiding having “The Talk,” and nowadays, given the media, internet, even parental influence… The Talk seems to be happening earlier and earlier.
For our four-and-a-half year old, it happened today.
It was innocent enough. We were traveling to Great-Grandma’s house and Colby was looking out the window at cars flying by.
That’s when he brought it up.
“Mommy, why do
For our four-and-a-half year old, it happened today.
It was innocent enough. We were traveling to Great-Grandma’s house and Colby was looking out the window at cars flying by.
That’s when he brought it up.
“Mommy, why do Transformers turn into cars?”
And, like any mother would, I turned to Clint and said, “This is all you, Daddy.”
Clint spouted off some impressive Transformer knowledge, going into such detail I was afraid it was too much for Colby’s mind to digest.
“Wow,” I said, when he finished his explanation. “Well, I suppose it’s important to be straightforward about these things.”
“No sense in lying about it,” Clint shrugged.
It’s true, really. He’ll find out soon enough anyway.
Now, with the Transformer Talk under our belts, we’re that much more prepared for that other talk; the one where “when a mommy and daddy love each other very much…”
Maybe then we can put it into Transformer terms too:
“When a Decepticon and Autobot love each other very much…”
Nope. Wait. Decepticons and Autobots are enemies. And robots. And dude robots at that.
Hm.
Suddenly I’m beginning to think having the real “Talk” will be less complicated.
After my last blog, I have a feeling I know where your mind is headed with the title of
this post.
Don’t deny it, if you’re my reader, you’re probably gutter-brained too… (That’s why I like you.)
After a week of …
When we opened our fortune cookies after our Safeway-nese meal tonight, mine said, “Be prepared to receive something special.” Clint’s read, “You will
continue to take chances and be glad you did.”
My darling, nookie-deprived (because I’ve been gone for a week) husband came up to me later, holding both of our fortunes in his
hand.
