I confess...

I confess that have a chocolate chip cookie obsession. But, I didn't feel like baking, so I purposely tricked my husband into making chocolate chip cookies as a "solo bonding activity to do with the kids." The kids played perfectly into my master plan of squealing with delight "yay, cookies with daddy!!!" whilst running around in a craze. I confess that I forgot to tell my husband to cut the recipe in half otherwise we'd be overflowing with cookies.

I confess that as he's reading them a story (another suggested bonding exercise), I'm enjoying one of the too many cookies with my glass of wine...

Too Much Information

For those who are squimish, stop reading here. No seriously, you've been warned.

Being a mom means learning about poo. From Day 1, you're responsible for someone else's bowel movements. You learn about the cute little odorless poop that newborns have. You know the tarry stuff that you can't get off even with a Magic Eraser? To the stinky poo that comes with feeding your kids solids. Poo is just a way of life for a new mom. Then comes changing diapers. With cloth, you learn about inserts, sprayers, pre-treatments, sun cleaning (which is a crock of lies, I tell ya!), and endless amounts of laundry. With disposables, you learn about the way to wipe, fold properly, how many bags you need to carry, blow outs, which diapers rim the cheeks better, etc.

Then potty training. You're relieved because you think I'LL NEVER HAVE TO CHANGE ANOTHER DIAPER AGAIN. But, there's still the small potties, the butt wiping, and the techniques. It becomes more complicated and more involved than I think it really needs to be.

You learn more about poo than you really ever wanted. Potty training is the rite of passage every parent needs to go through, to truly know your kid is evolving.

Kids get curious and stick their fingers in poo, and finger paint the walls (Magic Eraser does get rid of it on the walls, for what it's worth). Kids get curious and watch themselves poop. They happy proclaim I have to poo, I smell like poo, you smell like poo, I don't like poo, my poo looked like a donut, etc. to every stranger they meet.

Kids are just as fascinated by poo, as they are with everything else in the world.

Thing 1 is a big time fruit eater. He's small, but has some of the most powerful poops. When I dump the potty, I am actually amazed that such a magnificent structure can come from such a tiny body.

Thing 2 isn't as passionate in fiber as her brother. Her poops usually range on the smaller, delicate spectrum. You can definitely tell which is which. She likes to point out shapes in her poo and is most proud when she can achieve the letter "r".

My kids are synchronized poopers. Always have been. I have invested in two potties for that reason. They go together, sometimes holding hands singing songs. About poo.

I've learned more than I ever wanted to know about poo. Sometimes I think you learn too much.

The bagel

I decided to be brave, and embark on an impromptu, but much needed shopping trip to the grocery store. Normally, I'd strategically place Thing 2 (my youngest) in the cart while Thing 1 wanders around within decent range. He's under better voice control than Thing 2. And, he responds better to operant conditioning than Thing 2.

On this day, however, Thing 1 was unusually tired, a side effect from the IDON'TWANNANAP syndrome. Thing 2 was a bigger ball of energy after power napping for 2 hours. So, I decided to foolishly try it...

Thing 2 went wild running amok here and there, touching everything, until I was finally able to chase her down near the bakery. I'm amazed at her quick speed and versatility as she was able to maneuver the displays and aisles quicker than I could. The shopping cart with Thing 1 weighed me down, regardless, she could have given Marion Jones a run for her money. She was immediately lured to the bagel display where fresh bagels tempt shoppers daily in a very child accessible case. She was happily touching each and every accessible bagel, despite my hopeless pleas and begging "Come Back".

Fulfilling my obligation to buy what my child has touched, I came home with 5 bagels. My husband's response: "Why couldn't she have touched the blueberry?"

Skinny Jeans and Lipedema

Skinny Jeans. Hate them. Loathe them. With every fiber of my being, I cannot wait for this fashion to be out. It's hard enough for a person with lipedema to find a decent fitting pair of jeans. But now Skinny Jeans play into fashion.

Not only does Skinny Jeans make people look awful while promoting the ideal that thinner is better, but it also makes it extremely difficult to find jeans that fit properly when you have larger than life column legs.

I know, I know, society is never going to bend to my command. If that was the case, I'd be able to afford a $80K house in my parents neighborhood...digressing.

Before these devil jeans came into play, it was easy to shop for jeans (even online). But now, even plus sized jeans have skinnier legs.

My choices now are to either buy mens pants or wear dresses. And, by wearing dresses, I will be showing off my column legs, which is not something I want to do. Wearing mens jeans aren't ideal either as now I have jeans that fit my legs, but I also have a huge bulge in front which makes me look awkward.

I can't win. And, I can't wait for parachute pants to come back into style. MC Hammer, we need you!

It Ain't Pretty...

I think I'm a little insulted. I saw a Tampax commercial marketing a tampon as the cuter tampon.

Excuse me? A cuter tampon? First of all, I don't really care what the frack the thing looks like. If anything, I don't sit and stare at it at any point of my interaction with the thing. I don't care if its yellow, orange, or white. I certainly hope the damn thing doesn't sparkle. Inspire me with a wrapper? Sure, but tell me it's cute and I feel like feminism took a big slap in the cheeks. Next you'll be telling me that it's comes beaded or with sequins so I can accessorize it with my shoes.

I don't want a "cute" tampon. Marketing Fail.

Rule of Mommy Hood #188

Kids are sticky. Kids will find anything sticky. Even when there's no obvious cause for sticky-ness, kids are sticky!