A few months ago, I found a few of my husband’s best friends from high school on Facebook. I showed PigHunter and he asked me if I could contact them on his behalf. I sent them messages and that very same day both friends had returned my messages and added me as a friend.
PigHunter was confused by this. “Why did they add YOU as a friend? They’re MY friends, not YOUR friends!” I had to explain to him that, oh, I don’t know, because HE DIDN’T HAVE A FACEBOOK ACCOUNT AND I DID? Like, Facebook doesn’t magically create accounts for people, you have to create one yourself, dude.
You see, my husband doesn’t understand most things on the internet. The entire concept of creating accounts and passwords is lost on him. He’s like “I tried to log into my email, but it won’t let me. I don’t get it– I entered my first and last name! What is going on here!?”
It’s THAT bad.
Anyway.
On Monday I received a friend request with a message that said “Hi, this is tj, me and PigHunter used to hang out all of time in high school. Could you please tell him I said hi?”
I called my husband at work to tell him about the message.
“Some woman named TJ sent a request to be my friend on facebook. She said you used to hang out all of the time.” He was all “we were just friends!” And I was all “Whatever, I wrote her back and told her I’d give you the message.” I then proceeded to tell him that if Caroline ever found him and requested to be my friend I’d hit IGNORE and tell that bitch to step off. “Why would you do that?” He asked. “Because, I saw what you wrote about her in your yearbook. I will NEVER friend her, just so you know.” And he got all… upset? Which of course means he totally would cheat on me with her. So I was all “Fine! I’ll just make you your own facebook account so you can friend your GIRLFRIEND, YOU ASS.”
And I did.
I had the following conversation with a friend the morning after I created his account.
Me: in other news, I made Tony a facebook page. And I’m plastering my pictures all over it because bitches from high school be friending him and sending him messages.
Her: Hahahahhahaa
Me: AHAHA
Her: Hobbies: Lovin my wife
Me: hahhahahdlahfadlhflakhsf;alhksdaaa
Me: “loving my wife. Thinking about my beautiful wife all day and while surfing the internet”
Her: I just go follow the links my wife provides!
Me: “Status: I haven’t approved your friend requests until now because my wife just told me my password, since she is the one who knows it and WILL USE IT.”
Her: Dude, he needs a blinkie icon that says “lovin my wife”
Me: I’m using this as his profile picture!
I showed him the conversation when he came home from work and once I assured him I had not, nor would I ever, put that picture on his profile page, he laughed and laughed!
And then he asked me to log him into his account so he could see who had sent friend requests! I did and he had 10 requests, half from women.
That is where the real fun began.
I was all “want me to accept her request?”
He was all “No! I didn’t like her in high school! Why would I want to be her friend?”
And I was all “accepting her request doesn’t mean you literally have to be her friend. People just like to friend people they knew in high school so they can see what you’re up to and stuff like that.”
“I don’t give a shit– it’s none of her business what I am up to!”
I started to feel bad for this girl so I tried to convince him to accept her request.
“She’s friends with your other friends! Babe, just accept it. She’ll probably just say Hi and you’ll never have to talk to her again. You don’t have to ACTUALLY BE HER FRIEND. Like, we’re not going to invite her over for dinner.”
“It says F-R-I-E-N-D request, implying we’re friends!”
“oh my God, no…”
And then he got Very Serious. “Drop it, Y. I’m not accepting! I don’t want to be her friend!”
Turns out, my husband’s facebook account is the funniest thing in my life right now. I can’t wait for the requests to rolling in. The JOY it brings to my soul to watch him struggle with the decision of allowing someone to be his “friend” or not. JOY!
I’m tempted to ask all of you to friend him just to watch his head explode.
Beautiful little lady
I didn’t know that they had taken preschool graduation pictures last month (wouldn’t have braided her hair had I READ THE LETTER they sent home. Ack!) So, when I opened the envelope after the teacher handed to me this morning, I cried. I couldn’t help it. It was one of those “punch in the gut” moments where I realize that my children are growing faster than I’d like them too.
That said– she sure is growing into a beautiful little lady and I couldn’t be more proud of everything about her.
My husband can beat The Internet at “Directions.”
The things that make my husband mad never cease to amaze me. Because he doesn’t get mad about the obvious things. Like traffic, or higher taxes. But leave the iron plugged in after you’re done using it and he loses his damn mind. “DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH ENERGY THAT WASTES? OBVIOUSLY NOT OR YOU WOULD HAVE UNPLUGGED IT. FOR CRISSAKES, WOMAN!”
This afternoon I was looking up directions to the Barbie’s Malibu Dream House. I asked him to come take a look and confirm that the directions were correct.
“Why did they tell you to go THAT way? What the hell were they thinking?” He said, all angrily.
“They’re not right?” I asked, totally enjoying his outrage over stupid directions.
Next thing I know, he’s drawing furiously on a piece of paper.
Then, he goes something like “You see, this is the 10, they want you to go on this freeway, then go one this one, and then this one. You see how they have you driving all over the place? All you need to do is go like this, then like this, then like this. IT’S VERY SIMPLE.”
DID YOU HEAR THAT MAPQUEST? PigHunter just took you to Freeway School.
I Miss Blogging
And I miss you.
That is all.
You may need to take a violation shower after you finish reading this one.
A few weeks ago I found myself sitting in a cold room in urgent care waiting to have x-rays taken. I had been involved in a car accident and wanted (needed) to make sure that all discs in my back were okay and not going to start bulging again anytime soon.
I speak from experience when I say that bulging discs are NOT FUN.
Before the doctor took the x-rays, he asked me a few standard questions.
“Are you pregnant?”
“no.”
“Any chance you could be pregnant.”
“No.”
“When was your last menstrual cycle.”
I had to think about that one for a minute. It had been a while since I had one, but I hadn’t really given much thought to HOW long. So, I did a little mental math (winners do the math!)
“I’ve not had a period since October.”
What the hell, My Body?
The doctor stopped typing on the computer, looked at me and said “And you’re NOT pregnant?”
“Nope.” I said, all sure because… VASECTOMY! HASHIMOTOS! NO POSSIBLE WAY!
“Well, I’d like to give you a pregnancy test before we take the x-rays just to be sure.”
“That’s fine.” I said, getting a little nervous now because ALL THINGS ALL POSSIBLE THROUGH CHRIST.
He handed me a cup and was all “go forth and pee in this here cup. Once we get the results, we’ll send you downstairs for x-rays.”
A little fact about me: I hate peeing in The Cup. When I was sick as a teenager, my mom took me to the doctors and brought my best friend along. I had to pee in The Cup so they could check for a bladder infection. I went into the bathroom, did my business and walked out of the bathroom, pee cup in hand. As soon as my mom saw it, she started to laugh. And then my best friend started to laugh. I was all “WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING? WHAT IS SO FUNNY?”
Apparently, you don’t need to fill the cup all of the way to to top. “they just need a little bit of pee” my mom said, while laughing at my full cup of pee.
So, to this day, I never know how much is too much. And it stresses me the HELL OUT. Like, I don’t want to under pee and have to do it all over again. I also don’t want to OVER pee and risk the doctors and lab technicians pointing and laughing at my cup. You know? (You’re all “No, I do not know at all whatsoever.)
ANYway.
The pregnancy test came back negative and so the doctor sent me for x-rays. After the x-rays arrived, the doctor sat down in front of me to tell me that everything looked good. I just had some strain and which kind of muscle relaxer would I like?
(Answer: Soma, please.)
But then, he started talking about my lack of a period.
“You really do need to see your doctor about that because not having a period increases your chances of uterine cancer.”
I already knew this based on the last time I saw my gyno for missed periods. And the biopsy had revealed that my uterine lining was too thick and I had been ordered to take some kind of a hormone to make me bleed so that I could shed that lining. I never took those pills because right after I saw her, my periods started coming regularly again and I thought there wasn’t any need to take a pill that increased my risk for BLOOD CLOTS. I have enough health problems as it is. I don’t need to walk around wondering if the pain I feel in my leg could possibly be a blood clot that is going to travel to my heart and kill me!
(Not that I’m a complete freak about things. NOT AT ALL.)
I had forgot all about that fear until this doctor went and brought it up again. The entire way home, all I could think of was UTERINE CANCER. UUUTTERRRINNNEE CAAANNNNCCCCEEERR.
Naturally, I called Kaiser first thing in the morning to try to get an appointment with my gynecologist. The soonest appointment she had available was in May. (!@$%@!!!!) So, I had to do something I never, ever want to do. I had to schedule a “Possibly Have to Look at Your Vagina” type appointment with my family doctor. Who happens to be a man. Who also happens to be related to a friend of mine. And, really, that just adds a layer to the awkwardness that is someone who is NOT MY HUSBAND examining my vagina.
When I arrived at my appointment, the nurse asked me to undress from the waist down. She handed me a sheet to cover my from the waist down nakedness. I sat there waiting for Dr.M with my sheet securely placed so as not to reveal any of my half naked body. He knocked on the door a few minutes later and was all “Hey Y. Nice to see you again.” He begin asking me questions about what was going on (or, in my case, NOT going on) down there and I was all “I haven’t had a period since October and the doctor in urgent care said I needed to see you about that because.. UTERINE CANCER.”
He ordered some test to check my hormones and also ordered a pelvic ultrasound. And then he was said the words that brought peace to my soul. “You just had a biopsy and pap smear done last summer. We won’t need to do that again. Go ahead and get dressed while I order your tests.”
Vaginal Exam AVERTED!
A few days later I was laying on a table in a dark room while a technician put a glob of warm goo on my belly and begin pressing the ultrasound camera all up on my pelvis area. I watched her face closely to see if I could figure out if if what she was seeing was good or bad. Surely, if there were a tumor or something awful like that, it would show on her face. At one point, she looked a little… concerned? “Everything okay?” I asked. “Yeah, I’m just trying to get your bowel out of the way.” I HATE it when my bowel gets in the way. SO annoying.
“I’m almost finished with this part” she said “But your doctor has requested I do a vaginal ultrasound as well. Is that okay with you?”
Really, did she need to ask? I love having giant dildos with cameras shoved up in me by complete strangers!
Except, did you know that they don’t actually insert the camera? But that they ask you to put it in yourself as they’re putting a giant condom on it?
I almost passed out from embarrassment as she handed the Vag Cam over to me and watched me as I ha ha ha you know, hahaa put it in. And because it wasn’t awkward enough, I accidentally made eye contact with her just as I was doing it. I panicked and blurted out “Is that up far enough?” Which, OF COURSE IT WASN’T! So she was all “just a little bit farther.” And I was all “SURE THING!” Things got even more weird when she was moving the camera around inside of me and begin PUSHING ON MY LEG. It took me a few minutes to get that it was her way of asking me to “open them legs up just a little more, please” without actually having to utter the words “spread ’em” out loud.
GOD.
I can’t think of anything in my life that was more embarrassing than that experience. Not even making a Little Poopie while giving birth to my first son. NOT EVEN THAT.
The good news is that all of the tests came back normal. No cysts or tumors or cancer.
The bad news is that I still have not started my period and they can’t give me one good reason why. I get a little panicky when I think of the 5 months worth of back up all up in my Ute, but my doctor told me not to worry and to just enjoy not having a period. Which, really? Me? Not worry? ESPECIALLY after two other doctors are all “UTERINE CANCER!!!”? I’m trying really hard to relax and “enjoy it” (which… how does one “enjoy” the absence of a period?) But “relaxing” “not worrying” and “enjoying” are not things that come easily to me. Especially when things aren’t working as they should be.
Any tips on how one can go about “enjoying not having a period” will be much appreciated.
16
My love for my children is divided equally.
One is not more loved than the other, but they each possess unique traits that make them special to me.
G is special because she is the daughter I never thought I would have. When she came into our lives, she brought a fresh, new joy to our family that was much needed.
The Middle Child is special because he was the brother we always wanted our first son to have. And he came into this world with Personality and character. He was a Momma’s Boy from the very start. To this day, I think of the way he would squish my face with his chubby little hands and say “I just yuv you SO MUCH Mommy. Your SO booful, Mommy.” when he was just a little guy and it my heart will expand 10 sizes.
The Teenager. (Let’s see if I can get through this one without doing The Ugly Cry.) That boys is special to me for many reasons, but mostly, because he is the baby that made me a mother. I was only 22 years old when he came into my life exactly 16 years ago today.
Being his mother has never felt difficult. As a baby, he was easy in every sense. And 16 years later, that is still very true. Sure, things have become a bit more complicated now that he’s a teenager. He’s NOT perfect. However, my son has a good heart and a desire to do the right thing.
I’m a lucky Mom in that way.
I am going to end this by re-posting a portion of what I wrote on his 13th birthday. Because 3 years later, the emotions I expressed in that post still hold true.
She Most Definitely Did NOT Learn That From Me. (Because I am LAME With The Comebacks.)
Every time I pick up G from Preschool, her teacher has something positive to say about her. Usually, she is very general and says things like “she’s so sweet” or “she’s so funny.” But sometimes, she’ll tell me about songs she sang for her or stories she told about her brothers. You know, those things that parents love to hear about their kids from their teachers.
Today, she pulled me aside and said “I have to tell you a funny story about what she said today.”
The story goes like this:
G was telling the teacher about her “boyfriend” who just happens to be Woody (Yes, THAT Woody. From Toy Story.) J walked up to her and got all up in her face.
Boy: “You’re WEIRD, G.” He shouted.
She thought for a split second.
And then…
G: “Your FACE is weird.”
I teach my children to be kind and respectful to others and there are consequences when they’re not. So, I did have a conversation with her about what she said. I told her that she could have said something like “that’s not nice, J.” instead of answering his insult with another insult. But, honestly, Little Dude had it coming.
I guess this is one of the advantages of having Big Brubbers — she is not scared of boys nor the least bit worried about their opinions of her. And I LOVE that about her.
I can’t decide whether to call this one “how old are you again, fangirl?” Or “No one cares about basketball players but you, fangirl.”
The elevator doors opened and I couldn’t believe who I saw standing there among the people.
No one seemed phased by him whatsoever, so maybe he wasn’t who I thought he was. Maybe he just looked a lot like him? Or something?
And so I asked him.
“Are you Jason Kidd?”
To which he replied in his deep, sexy voice.
“Yes. Yes I am.”
“Hi!” I said, as I extended my hand to shake his hand. “I’m Yvonne and I’m a huge NBA fan. As are my boys. It’s so nice to meet you.”
“Thank you.” He said.
“My boys are going to be so excited when I tell them that I met you!” I said, all Fan-Girlie like.
I don’t think he said anything in response to that, but I can’t be sure because I kind of went deaf, dumb and blind with excitement. And I seriously could not believe that no one else seemed to care in the slightest bit that they were in an elevator with Jason Kidd.
After we stepped out of the elevator, I turned to Lindsay and said something like “I can’t believe I just met Jason Kidd!”
“Why don’t you ask him to take a picture with you?” She said. Which, trust me, I had thought about asking him, but was feeling a little “chicken shit” about it. However, once she suggested it, I walked over to him and said “Jason, would you mind taking a picture with me? I don’t want to bother you if you’re busy, but if you wouldn’t mind, I’d really love a picture with you.”
He wasn’t the friendliest person on the planet, but was more than kind about stopping what he was doing so we could take a picture together.
As Lindsay was about to snap, she said “You know, she’s famous too. She’s a famous blogger!” Which made me laugh so hard because… HA HA. FAMOUS BLOGGERZ! haasdhasa. Only Lindsay would say something so absurd and hilarious to a world famous NBA basketball player.
That smile you see right there is a combination of “OHMYGOD AM STANDING NEXT TO JASON KIDD” and “HA HA AHAA LINDSAY JUST TOLD JASON KIDD I’M A FAMOUS BLOGGER!”
Look at me, with my conference pass around my neck.
Look at him. All hot and pro basketball player-y.
After we left, my mouth was watering in the way that it does when I get overly excited about things and I was telling every single person I know “Hey! I just met Jason Kidd in the elevator.”
And every single person I told was like “Who? Who is Jason Kidd? Is he a blogger?” Well, every single person except Sarah. Sarah knows what’s up. She was all “Shut the fuck up! You MET JASON KIDD?! NO WAY” or something like that. But everyone else… clueless.
Total Boner Killers, those Bloggers.
I called My Boys to tell them about it and they were both thrilled and also jealous that I had met a Real Life NBA player. Little did they know that I was about to have a little more fun in NBA Player Heaven, AKA The Elevator at The Four Seasons Hotel.
The next day as I was about rounding the corner to head to the elevator, a fine looking black man standing at the front desk caught my eye.
Was it who I thought it was? Could it really be the man who did THIS to Kobe Bryant during the NBA playoffs against the Suns?
It WAS him. And we were about to get in the same elevator.
I walked over to him just before the elevator doors opened and said “Raja Bell?” To which he answered “Yes?” The elevator doors opened and we stepped inside.
“Me and my family are huge NBA fans.”
“That’s great.” He said. He was much nicer than I expected someone who CLOTHELINES KOBE BRYANTS to be. “More specifically, we’re Laker Fans.”
He started to laugh.
“Uh Oh.” He said.
“Yeah” I said. Because I’m fucking AWESOME with the comebacks.
“Well, I’m not playing on the West Coast anymore, so we don’t have to fight.”
Now I started laughing.
“It’s all love.” I said.
It’s kind of crazy that I said something so nice to the man who talked so much shit about Kobe Bryant. And really, I should have said something like “I hope you break your ankle. OR MAYBE YOUR FACE.” But he was so kind (and HOT) and friendly (and HOT.) that I couldn’t help but be nice and maybe, possibly, fall a liiiiiiiittle bit in love with him.
I did not get a picture with him, because that was like the ONE TIME that weekend that I didn’t have my camera with me. And that is sad, because I really need you to know that I am not lying when I say that he is HOT.
She is The Champion, My Friend.
A few weeks ago, my daughter woke up from her nap in One of Those Moods. She was upset that her Daddy had the FLIPPING NERVE to leave to go to the grocery store while she was sleeping.
“But why did he leave without me?” She asked, while tears formed in her eyes.
“Because you were sleeping, honey.”
“But Mommy, I love Daddy! I wanted to go with him! Why didn’t he wait…for…(*tears*) MEEEEEEEE.”
“No! No! Don’t cry, Sweetie! It’s okay. He’ll be right back!”
Nothing I did to comfort her helped.
But then, I had a Spontaneous Moment of Parenting Genius.
“Look at how fast I can blink my eyes!” I said. I began to blink my eyes as fast as I could. She looked up at me, not having it at first. But I pressed on and kept blinking.
“I bet you can’t blink your eyes this fast! Only Mommy can blink her eyes faster!”
Tears, stopped.
I had just challenged her to a blink off and because she inherited my competitive spirit, it was SO ON.
What happened next was amazing.
And hilarious.
And something that The Middle Child decided MUST BE RECORDED ON VIDEO. So, later that night he took out the Flipcam and let the magic happen. I hope you think it is as funny as my entire family does.
The Blinking Faster Game.
The Champion of Blinking from mamarosa on Vimeo.
Tonight!
(From Lindsay
09
Cheeseburgher 2.0!!!
In the beginning, there were cheeseburgers…
At BlogHer 07, a few friends bought a few bags of burgers and fries and had a party in their hotel room. Things quickly got out of control. The room filled with cheeseburger eaters. Security was called. And a CheeseburgHer Party Tradition was born.
At BlogHer 2008, Alpha Mom stepped in and sponsored the CheeseburgHer Party. Hundreds of burgers were purchased. Hundreds of people showed up to par-tay. Celebrities came. Security was called. The legend grew…
And that brings us to tonight.
Yes, peeps, there was one reason and one reason alone that Yvonne and I came to Mom 2.0 in Houston this weekend….
CHEESEBURGERS!!!!!!!
That’s right. Tonight, Isabel, Yvonne and I are throwing another majorly awesome CheeseburgHer Party, with the help of Burger King and Alpha Mom, who have generously agreed to sponsor the whole thing!
And if you’re in the Houston area tonight, you’re invited! It’s at Warehouse Live in the VIP room. Come early for the Mom2Summit Carnivale! party and the cost is $30, (tickets are available here, but hurry, there aren’t many left!) And if you come at eleven, the party is FREE. Yes, you heard me… FREE.