Midwestern Mommy

Have you ever watched someone and knew that they were caught up in happiness? It is a gift to see someone in that situation and know that they completely in their element. They exude energy — as if every cell in their body is joyful.

A few weeks ago, I got to watch dear friend Rebecca in a moment like this. Years ago, she cared for three children. As the children grew older, she remained a friend of the family and kept in touch. (She even worked as a doula with this mom.) The oldest child in this family had recently graduated from college. The second child graduated from high school. There was a party to celebrate. Rebecca hadn’t seen the guests of honor in quite some time.

Since I’m now neighbors with this family, Rebecca and I met up at my house first then walked to the party. She not only got to catch up with the graduates but met their friends and reconnected with old acquaintances.

She was laughing, exchanging stories and teasing a particular young man about a crush he’d had on her friend. It was such an amazing experience to see this dear friend so happy. It made my heart sing.

Oh and guess what? Rebecca meet Abbeydog. Abbey loved her. (No surprise there!) Within minutes Abbeydog was sitting on the couch next to Rebecca and giving her the “I love you! Now rub my belly!” sign. In fact, when I came home after the party, Abbey was looking for Rebecca. When she didn’t see her, Abbey waited on the porch for at least 15 minutes. Methinks that if Rebecca would have said to Abbey, “Ok.  Jump in,” Abbey would have gotten her happy old butt into Rebecca’s car and barked out, “It’s been real! I’ll send a postcard!”

So “the boy” wants to be a rock-star when he grows up. He has no other career plans as of late. So we decided that if he wants to “rock the house”? He probably needs to, you know, learn a musical instrument.

He was angling for the drums or the electric guitar. We made a deal. He can have the coveted electric guitar when he turns eight IF he sticks with the guitar lessons. So now he’s learning the strings and notes. Watching him jam out with his itty bitty guitar while making up songs about soccer, Star Wars, cats, the Wii, the dog, and his best friends? Cuteness of legendary proportions. 

But if he ever hits the big time, I’ll probably have to stop calling him “Bunny” – especially in front of his bandmates, manager and groupies. Because, you know, how badass is it when your mom walks into a room and says things like, “Bunny! Wash your hands before you eat anything in Saturday Night Live’s Green Room. And don’t leave crumbs on their sofa” Or, “Bunny! Did you put your dirty underwear in the hamper while you were in the tour bus? I’m not picking it up for you!”

Perhaps I’m over-exaggerating on those points, but I can totally see me saying, “You lost your pic pouch again? Bunny! You’re 24 years old. I’m not always going to be around to keep track of that for you!” Or, “You shouldn’t wear your black leather pants that tight. Everyone’s can see your ‘junk’. Besides, I want grandchildren someday.”

He already gets the “drugs make you do stupid things so don’t ever do them” spiel every now and again. But if he starts performing in front of an audience of non-relatives, I may have to give him the “keep it in your pants and stay away from skanky ho’s” speech.

Don’t think I won’t.

Congrats to Tanyetta for winning the FREE box of My Fruit-Roll Ups.

Oh and if you’re looking for a tropical family vacation idea, click on Midwestern Mommy Reviews .

The masterminds behind the Parent Bloggers Network (oh and my super awesome bosses, since I help them with some of their campaigns) have asked a burning question regarding your swimwear. What do YOU wear when you go to the pool or beach?

The answer (for me) is… I try to avoid both places as much as possible. I have body angst to begin with. The mere thought of the beach or pool? Makes me all twitchy. I usually try to avoid either place for as long as possible. But by July, “the boy” has worn me down from the constant pleading, so I relent and buy a damn suit already. The plus is that by then, lots of suits are on clearance. The downside? I have to go out in public wearing a swim suit. (The “bikini days” packed their shit and headed out of dodge once I became pregnant. So I do the one piece or tankini type of swimwear and try to avoid pools or beaches as much as possible.)

What I WISH were more en vogue are THESE. But I know that wearing “wholesome swimwear” would garner me even MORE weird looks and really, the last thing I want while I’m wearing a swimsuit is MORE negative attention. But I was poking around on some sites and you know what is really, really supercute? THIS top. Am thinking of pairing the top with something like THIS.

Its not just a cellulite issue. Its an issue of a skin condition I’ve had most of my life. It was supposed to get better as I age but no dice. That weirds me out far more than the cottage cheese texture of my thighs. (But the upside is that if you and I were in a plane crash in the mountains and you get hungry? Not to be all morbid, but if I were dead, you’ll be able to eat for weeks off of my butt cheeks alone! That’s um, a… good thing…. Right?)

Oh and P.S. I don’t care about anyone else’s thighs or cellulite so if you want to wear that bikini? More power to you!

This little question was answered as part of a sweepstakes sponsored by BOCA for the Parent Bloggers Network. Oh and on behalf of Boca, check out THIS site.

You find out that your hubby’s ex-girlfriend (aka his high school sweetheart, whom he dated on and off in college then lived with for awhile after college, then dated casually after they broke up, and stopped seeing for good once he started dating you) is a brain surgeon who has helped to develop a brain cancer vaccine.  (So far, the vaccine is still in trial stages but results are promising.)

You think, “holy hell!” And then you… think of the tremendous potential! The lives that might be saved someday. You are really happy and excited for her. You admire her ambition and years of hard work.

And then you do what you’ve done for years… Wonder why in the hell Hubby ever dated/married you because she’s achieved so much! She’s opening up people’s brains! She’s on her way to curing cancer! And she’s pretty! And you? Write a blog and use alot of bathroom humor. (We couldn’t be more different. The only thing we have in common is we’ve both got ovaries, love sushi, and have been driven crazy by the same man - but at different times in our lives. (We should compare hubby’s arguing tactics. Methinks those haven’t changed!)

And then you shrug your shoulders and giggle. Sucker! He could be sitting on his own boat near his super cool summer home wearing shoes with expensive tassels. But nooooo! He’s a suburban-dwelling, working stiff who continually tunes out the screaming woman who bore his spawn. 

And then you silently thank her. Because her motivation and ambition really inspired your hubby all those years ago. She set a great example in finding one’s passion and working tirelessly to achieve a dream.

And then you silently curse her too. Because he inadvertently turned into a work-a-holic.

But overall, you wonder how she’s doing. You hope she’s happy. You want her to know she’ll always have a place in his heart. How could she not? You understand. You’re okay with that.

And then you…kiss your little man’s scrape, scrub the sink, vacuum the steps, feed the dog, field some phone calls and make dinner.

Recently Kristin’s boys were talking about the phrases she uses most often — so often they’d probably end up on her tombstone. And then she asked her readers, “what phrases will be on your tombstone?”

Here are some of mine:

“Are you wearing underwear? Because we can’t go to grandma’s unless you’re wearing underwear.” (The boy likes to go “commando” and that really freaks out my mom.)

“No being bossy. That’s MY job.”

“Get your finger out of your nose.”

“Dude. Stop giving yourself a wedgie.” (Really, what is WITH that?)

What phrases are you known for by friends and family? What will be on your tombstone?

After almost three hours of hard labor, the doctor held up the newborn as if presenting a trophy. After the baby boy was swaddled and given a chance to nurse, he was quickly whisked away for a wash.

A few minutes later, the nurse walked into the worn out woman’s room carrying the new little person.  

“What will you name him,” asked the nurse.

“Well, we can’t decide. It’s either going to be ‘Trevor’ or ‘Seth’.”

The nurse smiled. Then she looked down at the sleeping infant and said, “Oh. Hello there, Seth.”

The new parents exchanged amused looks.

“Well, then I guess his name is going to be Seth,” said the dad.

And so it was.

Happy Birthday sweet, silly, smart, charming, shy, tender-hearted, loving, snuggly, energetic, handsome Seth.

See this? This, my friends, is more than a simple squirrel feeder.  Because the pup loves to chase squirrels, this is what we call an “Abbeydog Exerciser2000″.

But its not just an Abbeydog Exerciser.  Since we love to watch Abbey chase after those squirrels, (Sometimes you can see the “Oh Shit!” look in their eyes.) we also consider this product a “home entertainment system”. Who needs cable when you’ve got something like this to watch? 

But its not just a dog exerciser/entertainment center. Can you see the little bungee? When the squirrel jumps on the chunk, it bounces! Add in a chasing dog and any squirrel can experience alittle Indiana Jones action for him/herself! Its like a thrilling-yet-tastey-yet bouncy adventure!

*Since Abbeydog is slowing down and she has to climb a steep hill to get to those squirrels, her likelihood of capturing one is nil. I can confidently say no squirrels will be harmed. Tho, if the little critters were wearing pants, there’d be a high probability of them wetting themselves. But then again, dignity is a small price to pay for some choice sunflower seeds or kernels of corn when you’re a squirrel.

The other night a group of superfun, scorching-hot chicks (and lame-o me) were out having drinks at a dive bar we’ve frequented quite a bit in the past. A strapping young guy (with all of the cockiness and swagger that only a man in his mid-20’s can get away with) walked up to this Dana and me while we were talking. He explained that he and his team had just finished playing softball. (Gee, a group of men with dirty shirts all sporting the same company’s logo but each with a different number on the back? I would have never guessed!)

“Uh, you guys? (Wow. What a smooth-talker, that one!) That guy over there? Um, he bet me five bucks that I couldn’t get five girls to touch my cup by the end of the night. (He motions to his crotch.) So… Will you touch my cup?”

He quickly adds, “But you know, if you do it, don’t let him know you know about the bet. You’re not supposed to know.  So… Will ya touch my cup?”

Dana and I exchanged bemused looks. She was feeling feisty so she asked, “How do you want us to touch you?” I joined in, “Yeah, do you want us to knock on it or something.” He says, “No just reach on in there and grab it (he grabbed his “package” and gave it a quick pat.)

We looked at him and then each other. We giggled. Then we changed the subject. After talking with him a bit, we found out he thought we were “no more than 30, tops!”

HA!

Later on that night, while getting ready for bed, a thought slapped me upside the head in a big, bad way. Beer goggles and dark lighting – the only way I’ll ever look “no more than 30” again.

Well, that’s sort of depressing. But you know, since I have no money for botox nor time for the gym, I’ll take all the free “help” I can get.