Mother Goose is Freaking Us Out More Than Mother Monster

I’ve heard convincing arguments that Mother Goose is the key to Ivy Leagues. I’m all for brain stimulation and early developmental progress, but Gus doesn’t last long reading without wanting to eat books. I have been trying to share rhymes with him, but I’ve had to go off of memory. It’s proven to be a little fuzzy.

This is all our books see...but I'm squealing right now.
This is all our books see…but I’m squealing right now.

I’ve been starting to sing little ditties, and I can’t remember even half the words. Ring around the Rosies is the only one that’s clear. Sadly, that’s only due to years of elementary school repetition, because of the fascinating rumors of its morbid meaning that were shared in the shadows of the tether ball poles.

I looked a couple nursery rhymes up to keep in my back pocket. Have you read them recently? Some are CREEEEPY. What do these even mean, anyway?!

“Little Miss Muffet
Sat on her tuffet
Eating her curds and whey.
Along came a spider and sat down beside her
And frightened Miss Muffet away.”
Translation: Little Miss Muffet sat on her (what is a tuffet?! I’m going to submit it to Urban Dictionary as a) Kim K booty, and ate 2% cottage cheese. She regretted not keeping the pest control guy’s magnet on the fridge.

“Pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold, pease porridge in the pot, nine days old.”
Translation: Someone spilled frozen peas in the steel cut oatmeal. Before finally throwing it out, Mom kept it for nine days, because “there are starving children in Africa.”

“It’s raining, it’s pouring;
The old man is snoring.
Bumped his head
And he went to bed
And he couldn’t get up in the morning.”
Translation: He got the Advil mixed up with Ambien. Or else…

“The bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain, the bear went over the mountain, to see what he could see. To see what he could see, to see what he could see. The bear went over the mountain to see what he could see.”
Translation: This was a “she” bear, probably a mom, just trying to get out of the house. Sometimes I do that. I go to Target, to buy what I can buy, to buy what I can buy.

“Old Mother Hubbard, went to her cupboard, to fetch her poor dog a bone. When she was there, the cupboard was bare, and so the poor dog had none.”
Translation: This is an ASPCA commercial. Cue Sarah McLachlan.

“There was an old woman who lived in a shoe.
She had so many children, she didn’t know what to do.
She gave them some broth,
Without any bread,
Whipped them all soundly, and sent them to bed.”
Translation: This lady came home from Saks with new Louboutins, and her husband said, “You better be living in those shoes, because that was as much as a mortgage payment!” She was like, “Fine, I will.” The new leather smell made her go crazy, and I really don’t know what happened after that. I’m sure the husband has full custody, and a pending restraining order.

I don’t think I’ll read that one to Gus.

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Mom-Swimsuit Apocalypse

Do you know what time it is?
Do you KNOW what time it is?

Beach time. (I wish it were beach time in Cancun, again.)
Beach time. (I wish it were beach time in Cancun, again.)

And you know what that means. No more eating a half dozen Krispy Kremes when the hot light is on, hiding in your car or otherwise.

That’s because pretty soon, this beach will be swarming with bikinis: moms, teens, tech support specialists, all in bikinis.

Like I’ve stated previously, I’m unsure of how to find mom-appropriate swimwear for less than $150 that still says, “Hey, I have a baby but I can still get all Solange Knowles! That’s right, I know what that means!”

One of the stores I cyber-window shop often came to mind the other night, but when I stopped by the website to look for beach wear, this was on the page.

A sign my elderly self shouldn't be shopping here.
A sign my elderly self shouldn’t be shopping here.

But. I had to know. I found myself stumped by question #10, and although I questioned it’s applicability to finding my hip hop hottie, I was determined to see if it was Drake. I’ve always been pretty sure it’s Drake.
photo-1photo.PNG
Like anyone even knows who Iyaz is. Now I feel extra old.

AND, hello? I already said in question #9 that wearing glasses inside was a deal breaker!

I lost momentum on my search after that. All I know now is that I have been shopping at the same websites as 15 year olds, and Brian lets me eat In N Out…in bed…before falling asleep and dreaming of looking like Alessandra. Which is sadder? You decide.

Best husband ever. He served me a burger in bed. Bless you, Brian.  PS I only ate one.
Best husband ever. He served me a burger in bed. Bless you, Brian.
PS I only ate one.

The quest continues.

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Mother’s Day/Remembering I’m Still Hormonally Unbalanced Day

Brian took good care of my first Mother’s Day with multiple surprises. Some smelled nice. Some looked nice. Some tasted nice.

We Skyped with my brother, who is on a two year LDS mission in Germany, and he chatted with Gus for the second time in his life. We went to church, enjoyed take-out Thai food to celebrate my own mom, then Facetimed with my mother in law.

Normally, the day’s festivities revolve around celebrating our own mothers. This year, though, I couldn’t keep from getting teary-eyed half a dozen times as I reflected on the past seven months of my own motherhood! I still can’t believe I have this unbelievably perfect gift Brian and I were given by the Lord so recently. The title of “mommy” is one I will spend my whole life trying to perfect, and I’m so humbled and honored that I get to take on that role!

I have to use a stock "Mom and Gus" photo to pretend this was Mother's Day. Scroll down, and you'll understand why...
I have to use a stock “Mom and Gus” photo to pretend this was Mother’s Day. Scroll down, and you’ll understand why…

As a new member of the mom club, I love the new perspective it brings to my world. I love how my life slows down a little when I have him in my arms. I live for his laughs. I melt seeing a little smile through crib slats every single time he wakes up. My heart has never experienced such happiness.

To have babies is to have a little bit of Heaven in your home. I know I only have so many years of Heaven being on loan before Gus grows up and moves out, and I want to make every second of that time count.

So, Happy Mother’s Day, Gus. Maybe we should have bought you gifts to thank you for making me a mama!

(I’m going to be a deranged mess on your birthday, baby boy.)

Here are the real Mother’s Day pictures, and these are the creme de la creme of like, 50. So.

1/50.
1/50.
Gus loves eating my hair even more when it's pink.
Gus loves eating my hair even more when it’s pink.
You should see our Easter pictures.
You should see our Easter pictures.

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Is Your Name Karen? Do You Know a Karen?

You know those times in life that you reflect and think, “Am I on the right path?” Then you realize that you are not. In fact, you’re no longer on the path. You are off in the bushes somewhere, picking razzleberries. Those aren’t even real, so you must be waaay off that path in a desert oasis, hallucinating.

Sometimes that’s where I am.

I was recently looking for a bike trailer, and a friend suggested Craigslist. I hadn’t been on in years, but maaaan, have I been missing out. Go to Craigslist, look under “personals,” then “missed connections.” They’re not all PG, so I have done the dirty work for you. Read them. It will make you feel so much better about your life. I may be off the path sometimes, but at least I’m still on the same planet.

Here is a nice compilation from around the Craigslist globe that I have collected while shirking my laundry duties.

...or male stripper? The highest of any Vegas compliments.
…or male stripper? The highest of any Vegas compliments.

All Karens, hit him up.
All Karens, hit him up.
Craigslist solves drinking problems.
Craigslist solves drinking problems.
He was a Han Solo in a sea of Chewbacas.
He was a Han Solo in a sea of Chewbacas.

Let’s take a look at the Phoenix area.
photo-52

He saved you from the fall you were unaware of.
He saved you from the fall you were unaware of.
Or is it the hot dogs you can't get off your mind?
Or is it the hot dogs you can’t get off your mind?

Uh oh, Steve Barr.
Uh oh, Steve Barr.

Let’s head to New Mexico. I had high expectations after 15 years of life in that state, and Albuquerque’s “missed connections” didn’t disappoint.

Has that pickup line had much success?
Has that pickup line had much success?
As a former NM resident, let me tell you that this person didn't knock out much of the state's population.
As a former NM resident, let me tell you that this person didn’t knock out much of the state’s population.
I hope your arm has healed from a few years ago.
I hope your arm has healed from a few years ago.

The missed connection was with the mental wellness.
The missed connection was with the mental wellness.

D.C. was a little more professional.
Let's talk like adults.
Like adults, on Craigslist.

Horns?
Horns?

That last sentence is my new chant every time I Google something.
That last sentence is my new chant every time I Google something.

Some people confuse Craigslist with their diary.photo-68
Poetic.
Poetic.

Miami. I love you, Miami.
This girl is cute. I would like to use my blog as a means to further her search.
I guess. I would like to use my blog as a means to further her search.
Question: Are we being honest about your age and body type combo?
Question: Are we being honest about your age and body type combo?
That age plus the glitter...I like it. Bet she was a Vegas transplant.
That age plus the glitter…I like it. Bet she was a Vegas transplant.

Huh...Huhhh. And, my accountant has lots and lots of my numbers. My phone number is one of them.
I mean, my accountant has my number, amongst many other things.

Ohhh Provo.
What does that "ask for my number" face look like? Similar to "post for me on Craigslist" face?
What does that “ask for my number” face look like? Similar to “post for me on Craigslist” face?

International! Canada:
This is a half-glass full guy.
This is a half-glass full guy.

Being a hair stylist, I'm worried she might be bald before you find her.
Being a hair stylist, I’m worried she might be bald before you find her.

Shout out to my Alma Mater:
Judging by the subject line, I have a guess as to where you're from...
Judging by the subject line, I have a guess as to where you’re from…

It’s the little things in life.

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Did I Miss Fashion Week’s “Neighborhood Pool Trends” Last Fall?

Ahh yes, pool season…brings so many nicks to my legs, and new hurdles to motherhood.

Pool side bottle service.
Pool side bottle service.

Sophie tanning.
Sophie tanning.

Lathering a baby in sunscreen is kind of like greasing a pig. I would imagine.

The other babies in the pool probably assume Gus has some sort of skin discoloration disease because his mom can’t figure out how to completely rub in the sunscreen before he slips away to lick the chair. They are just dots of impenetrable sun protection.

And, question: how do you know when there is something other than water in a swim diaper?

Another question: what do moms wear to the pool? The Victoria’s Secret 2010 swimwear is left in some unseen corner of the dresser, and maternity swimsuits are not applicable here…so. Do moms wear Speedo brand for Michael Phelps speed in catching a pooping kid across the pool? Do moms wear goggles if they need to rescue a sunken Sophie? Do they wear the swimsuits with skirts attached? Do moms even wear swimsuits? I know they aren’t actually swimming, and I know for a fact they don’t lay out, so maybe just some kind of moisture wicking active wear is best for the pool.

I kept asking Gus, but he was busy emptying his diaper bag for 20 minutes.

A favorite activity.
A favorite activity.

Gus gave me his insight on motherly swimwear choices after we got home. While I was rocking him to sleep after the pool, he broke it down for me. He said, “Mommy, if you wear a:

wet suit, that would be ideal. I’m sure you can find one on eBay!”

bikini, you will remind me that I’m hungry all the time. It’s like a self serve ice cream machine on a cruise. ”

tankini, I will assume that the glaring white skin around your waist is a floaty and try and grab on when the water at the steps gets choppy.”

one-piece, you will have a perma-wedgie, because one-piece suits are not one size fits all. I don’t mind that, though, because you won’t be standing still long enough for anyone to notice…unless you stop chasing me and just let me eat those dead bugs I always find.”

We really bonded over our swimwear heart to heart. I like to think that, and not the afternoon of wading, was why he was extra cuddly all evening. I love that little head resting on my shoulder.

If there is a seasoned mother that has any suggestions other than wetsuits…

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