It makes me think of those magazine articles where dermatologists use some special technology to show you the damage your skin has been subjected to because of your lack of sunscreen usage when you were a kid. In this particular article, they actually told the women what age their skin was as opposed to how old it should be. Why, why would anyone really want to know how damaged their skin is? It's all irreversible, right, so why give yourself more angst? Not me, I'd rather not know that my skin is so damaged it is like the skin of someone 30 years older. I have enough insecurities, thank you very much.
**Speaking of insecurities, our town's pool has opened and we have bought our passes. Last night as I splashed around with my kids in an oversized t-shirt ( gotta prevent more skin damage and age spots, right?) and baseball hat, I spotted what no insecure, frumpily dressed woman wants to see: a woman with an absolutely perfect body. This woman was wearing a tiny bikini and looked like a model. And even though she had two small boys with her, she had no stretch marks at all. None.
Is that even legal? How does anyone birth two kids and not have any stretch marks???? I wanted to hate her, I really did, but then I remembered my new have-a-positive-attitude-give-others-the benefit-of-the-doubt-don't-gossip-and-for-pete's-sake-don't-hate-people-for-arbitrary-reasons goal. Yeah, I just set it this week totally forgetting how hard it would be to keep during swimsuit season.
**Did you know that if you break a graham cracker on an angle, the broken piece will likely resemble the state of Nevada? Danny pointed this out to us last night. He has many of the states' shapes memorized and now often sees the shapes of states in things like broken graham crackers. I don't know what this means, but I choose to take it as a sign of my son's genius.
**Speaking of genius kids, I recently read about a study that showed that babies with moms who have a lot of belly fat are smarter than those whose mothers are skinny. Yes, this thought occurred to me last night at the pool when I saw skinny, model-mom. I had the fleeting thought that my kids will definitely be smarter than hers what with my belly fat and all.
But, hey, as soon as the thought entered my mind, I remembered my new goal and I banished the evil thought with happy, positive thoughts about how pleasant and wonderful model-mom probably is. It wasn't easy.
**This morning as I was cleaning up the kids' room, I found a mini-red potato under Charlotte's bed. A couple of weeks ago, Charlotte started playing with this potato and even named her Nicey. She took the potato with her everywhere for a couple of days. She fed it and played with it and made it dance. I thought she had forgotten about it, so I returned Nicey to her family in the pantry the other day. Almost immediately after the tater family reunion, Charlotte went in search of Nicey, so I had to break up the family.
I have heard of pet rocks, but pet potatoes? If she is still into veggies this Christmas, I plan on saving some money by shopping in the refrigerator crisper.
**Yesterday, I babysat my friend's son who is completely potty trained. While we were all at the lunch that the public school hosts all summer, he totally pooped himself. Of course, I had no diapers or even wipes (since Tommy was at home with his dad, I also left the diaper bag behind). It was a pretty disgusting mess, but as my friend pointed out when she picked up her son, I am totally used to cleaning up poop. This is so true, I am considering changing the name of my blog to Poop Gone Awry. Consider these examples just from this week and tell me if I am not correct in assuming that the god of poop is targeting me for some past sin:
~Danny is still not pooping on the toilet.
~Charlotte, who we are in the process of pottty training, pooped all over her undies and her pjs the other day, when of course, it was my turn to clean it up. Bil was really happy to have dodged that bullet.
~There is an animal who is pooping in our garden every single night. We can't tell if it is a dog or cat, but man, the thing leaves little piles all over the garden.
~My friend's dog just pooped in our front yard this week. She asked me if I wanted her to clean it up and I thought, "Hmmmm....how do I say this nicely? Of course, I want you to clean it up!!!!" I will clean the poop of my kids, my friends' kids and even possibly kids of people I don't like, but I draw the line at cleaning up dog poop. Is that so wrong of me?