To Google Or Not To Google.....

Brrrring, Brrrriiiing  (That's the phone)


Me:  Hello


Friend: I have an extra ticket to a wine tasting tonight. Do you want to go?


Me: Honestly, yes. But, things are pretty tight here...and with me still being on Mat Leave....and the new house....I really cannot afford it.


Friend: Well, that's fine, because it's my treat. I bought three extra tickets to take three of my friends.


Me:  Let me get changed.


I hadn't been to an actual "event" in months. I truly had nothing to wear.  I didn't even know what was in style. There was only one thing I could do.


Google it.


It works for baked brie recipes.


I use it to identify rashes.


And its also great if you want to know how birds have sex.


So, here I was still wearing my pajamas from the night before. My friend was to pick me up in one hour. I was desperate. I was sick. I was scared. I was sweaty.


I Googled : "whats in style fall 2011 fat moms"


Here is what I got.


The link for the reality show from MTV called, "I used to be fat".  Well, that's not going to work, because I am still fat. Stupid Google.


Then something about Christina Aguilera.


Then a Beef Brisket Recipe.  Mmmmm. Smart Google.


I wonder if I could put some sort of BBQ sauce on that. Maybe even use the slow cooker. Mmmm. Biscuits with butter. What is a brisket?


Long story short,  I wore my maternity pants.

The Wedding Mistakes....

We were invited to a wedding on New Years Eve. Before I get into the typical "Kyla-like" things that happened, I want to add that this was probably the most loving wedding I have ever attended. For some reason, weddings can be stiff and awkward. Have you noticed that? Not this one. It was full of love, kisses and hugs and.....


.... my rolling down panty hose.


Twenty minutes before we have to leave for the wedding. I notice that the panty hose I have is for a 170-210 lb woman who is 5'5. I am 5'8. So the crotch of the panty hose came to my upper thigh. I could have carried my purse in the crotch.


On the way to the wedding, we stopped at the "Fat Girl" store.


I run in, wearing heels, which I don't do very well anyways and look at the sales girl in the eye and yell, "YOU. I need help. I need black pantyhose, I am 200 pounds and 5'8!"


She honestly looked scared of me.  As I am paying and telling my story like a mad woman, the saleslady suggests I run into the change room and put on the proper fitting pantyhose.


I look at her as if she is the stupidest person on earth and I snarl very calmly," No, I don't want to do that."


And run out the door.


That,  my friends, would be mistake #1.


Because after the lovely wedding, while standing at the very busy bar, I feel my pantyhose start rolling down my leg. There is nothing I can do to stop it.


Sheer panic.


I start doing the hula.


I put my legs far apart.


I squat like I am giving birth.


Honey, we're going down.


I squat jump behind the bar, do a squat and threaten the bartender, "DO NOT LOOK AT ME."


I manage to sort of roll them up to my chubby thighs. And then I run to the bathroom, past the receiving line and change into pantyhose that actually fits my fat ass.


The ones I just bought.


The ones the sale lady told me to put on.


So, yeah. She was right.


Now for Mistake #2.


I have become one of those parents. I took my three year old to the wedding.


Collective Gasp.


I know, I know, I know.


I know.


I wanted her to dance, I wanted her to see the bride, I wanted everyone to see her in her cute little dress.


Was she the only three year old there?  Yup. By a long shot.


Was she well behaved?  Nope. Not by a long shot.


Did she pull up my dress over her head at the dessert table?  Yup.  And you couldn't have missed that. Not from the cheap seats.

The Girl With The Three Big O's.....

A few months ago, I got together with a few girlfriends for a little Christmas party. Fantastic food, good wine, giggling women and lots of great talk.  I am not sure how these conversations start with my friends.  They begin something like this.....

How much do you pay your house cleaner?

To.....

What did you put in that baked brie?

To.....

Where were those diapers on sale?

And then, somehow.....

You had HOW many orgasms?

My beautiful friend announced that whenever she and her husband have sex, she gets mad if she doesn't have three orgasms.

Three.

Tha...REE.

Um.... doesn't that seem like a lot of excess work? Truly, I believe that one is enough to make it a good evening.  Or month.  At our house, one is enough to make it conversation for the next morning.

It goes exactly like this...

Zed:  "That was awesome last night."

Me:  "I know, we should do that more often."

Then we high five.

And that ladies and gentlemen is how we rock it at my house.

Three.. schmee.

The Lick.....

I was reading Whirlwind a book.

In the middle of a sentence, she leaned over and licked me and then asked...

"Is that my tongue?"

Ummm..... ye-ah.

This is what I don't get. She is almost four years old. She knows that is her tongue. Even one year old Baby Bot knows where his tongue is.

It makes me so curious about kid and their thought process.  Did she just have a desire to taste my arm?  Did she do it and then realize that it was kind of gross but somehow wanted to cover up the act of doing something she knew was a little bit wrong?

Sort of like the time I was seventeen and drank beer until 9:30 in the morning. I knew it was wrong. But, I covered it up by telling my Mom that I fell asleep at a friends house. And I always thought she believed me.

I pulled a real fast one on her.

Now, I realize that I didn't. And all it took was my daughter licking my arm.

Mommy Faux Pas

You know those Moms that I usually judge and make fun of because they are uber parents?


Yes, I used the word uber again.


Sorry.


Well, today I found myself committing a Mommy's Weird Faux Pas.


I got involved.


But, I didn't really mean to. It seemed like the natural thing to do.


I was picking Whirldwind up from Pre School. As soon as I walked in the door, I was instructed to take my shoes off and head to the back room.  It's Dinosaur Week and the back room was converted into a series of tunnels, ponds and piles of ... of....of... stuff.


Immediately, I crawled through the first tunnel.


"Way to go ...there's a good Mom!" said the Pre School Instructor.


Wait. Huh. Was I the only person crawling through the tunnels?


I pulled up my stretchy jeans from half way down my flat ass and looked around.


Yup. Just me.


There were lots of different tunnels. So, I was talking a well deserved break from the first one. When I heard a Mom say to her son, "Oh, I don't think I will fit through there."


And because I have turned into "Uber Parent", I say, "If I did, you can!"


Mostly, I'd like to tell you I said that because I was having fun and encouraging her to do the same. But, honestly, I said it b.c it was literally true. She was HALF the size of my thigh.


At this point it was time to leave the Dinosaur Decorated back room. I could have stood up and walked out, like everyone else.  But, at this point, I realized that I was the only parent crawling through the tunnels. And because I like the attention, I crawled out of the last tunnel.


And, like a good Pre School Ieacher should, I was praised again, " Good Work, Mom".


I wonder what I will get to do next week?!

You're So Vain.....

After a few too many glasses of wine I told my girlfriends about something I had been pondering.

Okay. I am lying already.

Let me start again.

After 3 plates of cheese and one glass of wine, I told my girlfriends about something I had been pondering. And I am not sure why I even told this group of Mom's. Maybe because they are so damn nice and Hot, I ASS'umed that they would be on board with my comment.

They were not.

Here is what I said...

"I'm thinking about getting Botox."

There was a collective silence.  Then an awkward gasp. And not one of them was on board.

My favourite comment was from Hot Mommy #2, who is also a Hot Bikini Mom, she said, "They put TOX in the word for a reason."

I argued with a few half assed excuses....

.....That I put lots of toxic things in my body

.....That people use it for headaches so it can't be THAT bad.

Overall. I am not going to go get Botox. I'm not even sure why I said it out loud.  Maybe I wanted one of them to say that they had it done. I don't know. Maybe I was looking for a good story for my blog. So. Honestly, no Botox for me.

But.

And this is a HUGE BUT.

If, by any chance an advertiser at my station wanted me to get Botox and then talk about it on air. You better fucking believe I would be getting some TOX in my system.


And listen to Carly Simon while doing it.

Everything But The Kitchen Sink....

I've talked a bit about this on twitter and facebook....


So here we go.


My New Years Resolution.......


is to quit eating over the sink.


It's pretty germy in there.