Tuesday, October 23, 2012


One of my gifts is that I can read people's minds.  People's minds that I've never even met before, and that's how I know you're thinking, "If I could just figure out a way to make this election last a little longer we might actually make it to see the demise of those Suite Life twins...."  Enjoy the journey folks, 'cuz we have two more excruciating weeks to go.  But wait!  Don't go yet, this isn't a political post.  This post is actually about Shrek, and news anchors, and women in real life who look like men in animated life.  Intriguing, yes?

As Cory and I sat and listened to the final Presidential Debate last night, the first thing I wanted to do was wash it all down with some brownies.  Because let's face it, nothing goes better with Syria, Iran and gas prices like a 9x13 pan of chocolate.  But then I remembered my promise to Samantha - I told her I would spend this week before her State Cross Country Competition not eating sugar with her so she could be nice and purged of impurities before she attempts to run 3.1 miles faster than I can walk to the mailbox.  And since I couldn't wash down my emotions and frustrations with a Ghiradelli mix from Costco I was forced to use other coping skills, like laughing at others' expense.  That's how it happened, as Cory and I flipped around to different channels to watch the After The Debate critiques (kind of like "After The Final Rose" episodes of The Bachelor where the happy couple reunites only to break up 3 weeks later) and we saw this woman interviewing various camps for their opinions.  Cory looked at her and said, "Is it just me or does she look like Prince Charming from Shrek?"  I immediately began to chuckle because you guys, it wasn't just him.

I give you EXHIBIT A:

Saturday, October 6, 2012

Better With Age

There we were, sitting across from each other in a booth at Chipotle trying to quickly chow down some lunch as we hurried to Samantha's Cross Country meet.  Cory was dousing his burrito with hot sauce and I was inhaling my diet Coke, rambling on about some inconsequential information for sure.  Suddenly I realized that Cory had paused and was now staring at me so I looked up, met his gaze and said, "What?"  He just smiled at me and responded, "You know, I think you get prettier the older you get." 


I kept waiting for him to follow it up with something bad like, "Did you hear that Netflix is going out of business?" or, "I saw on the news that Pottery Barn has been acquired by JCPenney."  But nope - he just went back to eating his burrito.  And just like that he made up for all the times he has farted on me in his sleep.

Cory's declaration, however, was a bit of a revelation because I was like, "WAIT.  I thought I peaked in the 1st grade."

Actually, no.  It was 7th grade, the year my brother's friend sat down next to me at my nephew's baby blessing and introduced himself by asking, "Sooo...are you Mitch's little brother?"

Or maybe I was getting that confused with the golden years in high school when my self esteem really began to take shape:

Then again, there was that time I dressed up as a rap star for a Primary activity:

 (it's a scan of scan folks, deal with it)

But Jill looked way worse than I did, so at least I had that going for me.  Not that dressing like a Jamaican at a political rally doesn't have its place:

Certainly, we can't overlook how stunning I can be when someone takes a picture of me yelling at them in the dark:

I think when Cory told me I was getting prettier all the time he was forgetting that my friends and I had this photo taken at Wal Mart once:  (can you spot me?)

 (Teeth - courtesy of the $1 section.  Wigs - courtesy of our costume stash.  Boas - well, Wal Mart provided those.)

Or perhaps he was reflecting on this doozie taken after Drew was born and he wanted to express how far I've come.  You guys, I don't even know what to say about this except "you're welcome", "I'm sorry", and "this hurts me more than it hurts you."

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Things That Make Me Uncomfortable

1.  The words “fluids” and “shmear”
2.  Men shopping in Victoria’s Secret.  Seriously, what are you doing here?  When I am being fitted for a bra I should not be able to hear a man’s voice within at least 11 miles.  Are you there by yourself?  CREEPER.  Are you there with your wife?  Ew.  Are you there with your girlfriend?  Come on, there’s a Sports Authority across the street go make yourself useful.  
3.  Being fitted for a bra.  Strangely, not as violating as the airport security pat down but still.  Having a stranger come in my dressing room to check out my girls in the mirror is about as natural to me as asking my Gynecologist to gently scratch my back.  
4.  In my defense, I was enjoying the brilliant evening air during one of our last 80 degree days before the Fall weather rolls in.  And while it did make me uncomfortable it turns out that gnats do not actually taste that bad.
5.  Glancing out my bedroom window and seeing that my husband and son who were supposed to be long gone to play Basketball were pulled over just down the street, walking slow laps around the car.  It was dark so I couldn’t see what was happening – I threw on some sweats and headed out the back door to find out if my boys were ok.  Halfway down the stretch I spotted the injured deer in the middle of the road.  After that I spotted the injured bumper of our brand new 3 month old vehicle that is so important to Cory that he almost ordered it a birth certificate.  We are all a little sick about it, but at least the deer limped off in one piece.
6.  Pictures of women and their bare pregnant bellies.  And cupping your hands in the shape of a heart over it doesn't make it any less weird.  In fact, MORE weird.
7.  When my kids asked, "So Mom, what's been one of your lowest parenting moments?"
8.  Stores that charge $50 for a burlap throw pillow.  First of all, scratchy.  Second of all, $2.99/yd at a fabric store.  Which means some shmuck out there is making BANK for stamping the Eiffel Tower on your home decor.  Hey, I wonder where I can get an Eiffel Tower stamp?
9.  When I'm running and I say to myself, "I have to go to the bathroom" and myself answers, "you're 2 miles from home or 5 inches from that bush...."
10.    People who are too nice.  They're hiding something. Like the lady filling my tacos at Chipotle yesterday - calling me "Dear" the first time was fine, but by the 5th "Sure thing dear" I was all, "ARE YOU POISONING MY SALSA?"