Questions to Ask Yourself if You are Thinking of Having Children

So, you're thinking of having a child - well, you should ask yourself a few questions. Even though some of these questions may seem humorous to you now, I assure you that I am very serious.

• Can you love this child no matter what? Like, even if they paint your bathroom counter with nail polish and don't tell you but instead try and clean it up with super glue...because for some reason they think that it made total sense at the time.
• Are you willing to catch vomit in your hands?
• Are you willing to pick their nose? Or wipe dripping snot from their face. (You may or may not have something to then clean your hand with. Keep that in mind.)
• You will lick your hand and wipe their face. Don't sit there in your fancy clean chair and try and tell me that you won't. You will, and when you do you will think back to this moment and say, "She told me."
• Are you willing to take a hamster to the vet and pay a bill that costs far, far, far, far more than the purchase price of a new healthy hamster that looks exactly like the hamster they already have? Are you?
• Can you laugh about farts? This is basically a deal breaker - you must be willing to laugh about farts.
• And burps.
• And butts.
• Can you look at this child right in their face and answer all of their questions about vaginas, penises, and how their reproductive system works while retaining a straight face?
• You must be willing to dance spontaneously and do all of the voices when reading at bedtime - if you don't, your child will become an asshole. Don't get mad at me, it's science.
• Will you do anything to make this child laugh when they are sad/mad/in a funk? May include any or all of these, in private and/or in public:
• shake your butt
• pick your own nose
• make a monkey face
• make fart noises with your mouth and/or armpit
• make real fart noises with your butt
• pretend like you're going to eat their face and/or belly
• put their feet in your mouth
• Can you watch them make terrible decisions, and let them so that they can learn? Things like putting ketchup on a hot dog, or saying no to cheese when they order a pretzel.

This is just the tip of the iceburg...just a few questions to get those old wheels turning. Of course if you want to have a child, then these questions are meaningless to you because of course you can handle all of these things.

I'm serious about the fart thing.

http://mylifeandkids.com/fart-sounds/

Bookmark that page.

I Hate A Lot of Stuff - here are a few.

Yes - we all hate the terrible things that happen in the world, we don't need to hash over them all. It makes me depressed and then I start shopping for islands and researching the best ways to clean water for drinking.

What we can talk about are what society has deemed "First World Problems". These are the problems that in all honesty you would be embarrassed if someone heard you talking about them...like, "My change jar spilled and now there's money everywhere! UGH."

This will become a recurring segment over here at ye old blog - here are a couple to get us going.

• Websites that have those ghost advertisements that you can't find, therefore you have to sit and listen to a Folgers commercial for 2 minutes while trying to enjoy an article about Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie and how hard their life is.
• Sticking with a website theme - sites that have the pop up asking if you'd like to take their satisfaction survey (no, I don't, ever, thank you) and as you position your cursor to click that teeny-tiny "x" the pop up jumps so that you click on the "Yes! Please let me take your survey, I don't have a life!" button.

Just click that little "x"...no big deal, we don't mind - JUST KIDDING IDIOT!

No Thank You Vistaprint

I love Vistaprint. They have great stuff, great prices, and frequent cool deals.

Free business cards? Yes please.

I can never have too many of these.

 

 

Have you ever purchased anything from Vistaprint? I won't wait for your response - I'll just go right into my rant, if you don't mind. Of course you don't. You're so polite.

 

When you purchase something from Vistaprint they are super happy about it and they really want you to buy more stuff! YAY THINGS! I'll walk you briskly through this scenario...if I spend too much time on it my nose will start to bleed again.

 

Oh look, business cards. Click. Design. Add to cart. Checkout.

 

What's this? Business card holders? No thanks. (Or yes, if you are into throwing away your money.)

 

NEXT.

 

This isn't the checkout screen...what...oh, business card sized calendars...hmm.

 

NEXT

 

My credit card is ready...wait...no, I do not want to register a domain name..what fresh hell?

 

NEXT

 

FINALLY take all of my information already!

 

Finish...oh cool, I can review my order one more time before it's fina....NO I DON'T WANT ANY GODDAMN ADDRESS LABELS FOR THE SWEET LOVE OF GOD. Finalize without address labels.

 

And that my friends, is what it is like buying something from Vistaprint.

 

*bow*

 

Basically what I'm saying is, Vistaprint is great and also at the same time irritating.

 

Here's the website: Vistaprint get some stuff that you need, and also some stuff that you don't need.

 

They have no idea I wrote this - and they probably wouldn't even approve of it if I did. I pay full price for all of my business card needs. (Unless they are having a free business card special - which is often.)

 

Worth every penny.

Oh You Can Do Better?

As per usual I'm a little late to the party, suck it - I'm busy.

iOS7 was released last week much to the anticipation and also chagrin of everyone in the world. I handled it much as I expected everyone else to - I saw the little red notification dealy (totally tech term you guys) and then I pressed all of the correct buttons and bam - done.

It looked different, my phone still worked, and I went on with my life. Apparently this is not the way of the world.

Things I saw while perusing the interwebs and the Facebook:

• iOS7 is the worst thing to happen to the iPhone yet.
• I'm done, I'm switching to Android.
• I could've designed a better operation system.

Oh you could? Awww - how sweet. Is that why you are currently working part time emptying the trashcans at the local elementary school? It's because you're TOO smart, right? Poor soul.

You're going to switch to Android? Fantastic. Will you also move to Australia if you don't like the next elected President? Let me show you the door.

Frankly - besides me just writing this little tiny bit about your grumpiness over things that don't actually effect you - no one really cares. We know that you are pissed about the color of the icons in iOS7 today but we can rely on the fact that tomorrow you are going to be pissed that Facebook moved the notifications toolbar to a different area. THE HUMANITY!!!

 At least the update distracted from talking about twerking.

The Key to Being a Rabbi

Aaaand we're back with a special segment of "Conversations with Momma"...

(she's out of town on vacation...somewhere warm and wonderful...ugh, jealousy)

Momma: We went to an awesome street fair today and there was this Rabbi sitting on a chair with a sign above him that read "Ask the Rabbi"....

Me: Like, ask him a question?

Momma: Yes! And people were walking up to him asking him things...but I didn't know what to ask. I asked Caren what I should ask him but she didn't know either.

Me: Well, did you ask him something?

Momma: No. But now I really feel like I should have.

Me: I would've asked him what kind of questions do people ask here...questions about life, or just, like - where's the nearest Trader Joe's?

Momma: What is a Rabbi?

Me: Like, a jewish priest... (guys - I don't know the terminology, don't get mad at me)

Momma: Can I be a Rabbi? How do I become a Rabbi...?

Me: You can't be a Rabbi - you're not Jewish.

Momma: Well, yeah. But the main reason is because I can't grow one of those cool beards.

Seriously though - don't be mad.

I don't even know if a beard is a requirement of being a Rabbi...

No Thanks

Coop had a terrible stomach bug this past winter - it seemed to last forever. He would only get sick at night, he would wake up puking and then sleep the rest of the night on the bathroom floor.

I have to get my couch professionally cleaned because one night we both fell asleep on the couch - I thought ahead and placed towels on the floor and a trash can in the center of the towels, there was no way I was going to have to scrub puke for the 5th night in a row. Sure enough he woke up heaving and I flung him the direction of the trash can and as I turned around to grab a handtowel from the ottoman, he turned around too - to face the couch, you know, instead of the trashcan. BLAMMO puke everywhere that there wasn't a towel.

Long story short - puke.

After he was better and I was done cleaning up puke and shit from every surface of my house I decided I could go back to the gym and put him in the childcare there. My workout partner Erin is hardcore bad ass and she apparently has a super secret hate on me because she killed me. A couple of times. There's photographic proof.

After she was done using my corpse as a sweat towel I set my sights on the door because on the other side of that door was cold air that was going to revive me and also keep me from puking. I picked up Coop and headed home. As I pulled into the driveway I took a moment to evaluate myself and really think about my options - puke here in the driveway so it can freeze and I can basically walk on puke for the next month or try and make it to the bathroom indoors. I tell you - it was a tough one but I decided on heading inside.

I carried Cooper in and I said to him - "Coop, I'm going to puke on you."

To which he responded, "No thanks."

He then pushed my face away from his direction and said, "Look over there."

Literally - he pushed my face away from his general direction so that I wouldn't get puke on him...smart kid.

UPDATE: I took this child to a pediatric gastroenteroligist...what? I'm told he has "CVS, cyclic vomiting syndrome". WOW, that sounds serious doc, what is that? She says to me...with a straight face..."oh, random vomiting". I said, "No thanks."

A Feral Angelo - a made up story.

My favorite (only) brother Morgan and his boyfriend, Angelo, came to visit recently. It was only the best time of my life because they are my favorites.

One of Morgan and my favorite past times is to make up stories about people - we can go on for hours about the group of people sitting at the restaurant all wearing the same type of shirt. They are clearly a cult. Clearly.

While they were here we did a lot of stuff and mainly drove my car everywhere. At one point Angelo attempted to get into someone else's car assuming it was mine. Well...

Me: What if Angelo had gotten into that car and stayed there...not knowing it wasn't my car?

Morgan: Yes. He fell asleep in the back because he was so tired from all of our activities.

Me: Yep. He falls asleep waiting for us and wakes up in a dark garage.

Morgan: Because the car owners didn't see him back there - sleeping away.

Me: Of course. He's all snuggled up. He wakes up and it's dark and he's all 'Whaaaa? Where am I?"

Morgan: He doesn't have his phone because he left it here, in your actual car - so he can't call for help.

Me: Of course not. He gets out of the car and goes to knock on the door into the house and the people answer...and they're naked. They're nudists.

Morgan: God, yes, of course they are. Nudists. Just naked. They invite him in and are super friendly.

Me: They won't let him use the phone - they don't have electricity...they have, like, burn barrels IN the house.

Morgan: And no wifi. Uuuuuughh. They want him to join their nudist colony in this weird house.

Me: They walk on all fours...not even like, hands and knees.

Morgan: Feet and hands.

Me: Finally he gives in...what's that called...?

Morgan: Stockholm syndrome. He gets naked and he's living in their world. Burn barrels...

Me: No wifi...no electricity...

Morgan: Monsters.

Me: He can't escape even if he wanted to - their are bars on the INSIDE of the windows and doors.

Morgan: We find him and we knock on the door...and he's all 'Guys, I live here.'

Me: And we're all, "It's been 45 minutes...."

Morgan: Right?!

Angelo: What are you guys talking about...?

Here we are making up a story about you right now...

It's basically the funniest thing you've ever heard.

Cinema - Spoilers contained within. You've been notified.

It's been awhile since I've shared my thoughts on movies that I've watched. Let's do that today!

Playing For Keeps

This movie is about a soccer player (Gerard Butler) who...I don't know....doesn't play soccer anymore? Moves to be closer to his son, begins coaching his sons soccer team because the current coach has a condition that requires his phone to be attached to his ear constantly also he's fat and sucks at being a kids soccer team coach. Then stuff happens...and it was annoying.

From the moment the movie starts you know exactly what's going to happen - which I hate. Within 15 minutes I was able to spout off each direction the movie was going to go and who was going to sleep with Gerard Butler's character...who could blame them though - amiright?!

The only reason to watch this movie is to see the star of the show - Gerard Butler's hair. It's glorious and amazing and luscious and beautiful. If you don't care about his hair, then don't watch this movie. It's lame. The End.

 

Olympus Has Fallen

 

This one is basically a combination of Air Force One...but on the ground and Die Hard all wrapped up in a neat, bloody package and I loved it. It was pretty easy to guess who the bad guys were going to be but I didn't mind that too much - it wasn't a secret for long. Gerard Butler (are you noticing a theme here...?) plays a Secret Service Agent and then an Ex-Secret Service Agent who super, really bad wants to be Secret Service Agent again. Blah, blah, blah - people storm The White House, hilarity ensues, blood, knives, guns...lots of guns, tunnels, Navy Seals, Morgan Freeman.

There was a scene that I swear they took directly from Die Hard. I even said it out loud in the theater. "This is Die Hard."

I'm not going into much detail here - I'll just say it was a good movie, I'd watch it again. It really makes you want to save the world, y'know? Afterwards you sit back and think - I could totally do that. Then you look down at the popcorn that has fallen at your feet and the nacho cheese that you accidentally wiped on your pants and you think again. Boy, do you think again.

Get it? Because they're falling.

 

 

 

Nothing.

Know what I like to do?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing is the correct answer. It's my favorite thing to do actually...nothing. It doesn't require a shower. It doesn't require pants that aren't stretchy or mascara.

Nothing, of course, can mean a vast many things. "Nothing" is definitely subjective. My nothing and your nothing could be completely different - in fact, my nothing varies day by day. Today my nothing could be watching tv all day long, tomorrow my nothing could be playing Mass Effect...yesterday it was drinking wine and reading literature gossip magazines.

I feel like I crammed a lot of "stuff" into my late teens/early twenties. I snowmachined, flyfished, camped, hiked small mountains, etc. And now...I just don't wanna. I still like those things, I just don't want to do them. I want to do other stuff - like, nothing. Is that so bad? Is it weird? I guess I don't really care.

This blog post is lame - and it's probably because it's the end of March and I'm freezing and tired of the cold weather. So, there.

Someone call the waaaah-mbulance.

Go ahead, I'm not going to do it myself - I'm busy doing nothing.

Tunes Tuesday...

I have to make a bit of a drive every day to and from town, I enjoy it because I get to be alone and listen to music. Two of my very favorite things.

I sometimes even have to giggle at the absurdity of my daily playlist - Lana Del Rey, Lonely Island, Trey Songz, Blake Shelton...the list only gets more ridiculous.

Here are two more songs that are in my rotation.

 

Huge glow stick? Want.

 

 

 

"I just want to feel some sunshine."

This is my winter anthem.

 

 

Speaking of winter...please go away - I'm cold. Even though it's in the upper 30s...ugh, I'm still freezing. My body turned in its notice, it said, "I'm not keeping you warm anymore, I'm tired. Figure smoething out on your own."

 

So courteous.