Child Logic

The other day my darling daughter and I had this conversation:
"Mom. How come you have boobies and I don't?"
"Well, when you get older you'll go through puberty and then you will get them."
"Oh. What are boobies for?"
"When you have a baby in your tummy your boobs produce milk so you can feed the baby after it is born."
"Your boobs have milk in them?"
"No, it only happens when you have a baby in your tummy."
"Oh. What's in them right now?"
"Nothing. It's just skin and fat."
"Oh."
Later that night, Caleb and I have this endearing conversation:
---pokes me in the boob--
"Boobies!!"
"Yes. Don't poke them."
"Is there milk in there?"
"Nope, not anymore."
"Just fat?"
"Yeah."
"Like your tummy?"
Ggrrr...

Death By No Diet

After much thought I have concluded that I will die, or at least lose my right foot, if I do not start dieting. Let me elaborate.
We were in Wal-mart the other day, and James made the mistake of taking a short cut through the ice cream isle. In moments I was drooling onto the window showcasing the Ben and Jerry's ice cream. So we decided to get some. James picks New York Super Fudge Chunk and I pick Peanut Butter Cup. When I retrieve them, my pint slips through my fingers (surprise surprise) and falls right on the top of my foot! Oouucchh! Now I have a big nasty bruise on my foot that still hurts.
You know what creeps me out? This is the second time it has happened! Same store, same flavor, same foot! If I drop another one on there I think it may burst a vein and blood will flow out and corrode my muscles and they'll have to amputate it. Ok, I'm a little dramatic.
But get this.
I get a hankering for a Starbucks Frappuccino, so on the way home I ask James to stop by there. This one is in a shopping strip and doesn't have a drive-thru so I have to haul my fat self across the parking lot. I get my venti frap and while walking towards the car I almost get hit my this huge truck! Geez! Can't that kid see I'm enjoying my 2500 calories??
Thus, my conclusion.
I will die or lose a foot if I do not start dieting.
Or I could sit at home and have James bring me my B&J's and frapps. Hrmmm....

Swimming With The B's

Here I am again! I never seem to go away, do I? I haven't been writing because the pool at our apartment complex finally opened up! Woo hoo! The kids and I have been swimming almost every day. It's very good exercise, when you don't cancel it out with a Big Mac and jumbo fries! I PROMISE I will do my Pilates tomorrow, flabby abby, I promise.
Anyway, the B family went swimming the other night and I thought I'd blog about it.
First, I had to find a bathing suit. (dum dum DUM)
Off to Walmart I go. Fortunately I didn't have the kids that week. I go to the fat woman section and start browsing. I have already decided the bikini went out with my first child's birth, and tankinis are just too short, they roll up over my belly. So I am reduced to a one-piece. I find a really cute black one with a gold ring between the "boobies". PLUS, it has tummy comtrol! Yeah! So I grab a 1X and head to the fitting room.
No go. I'm jumping and grunting and pulling and it's just not going over my stomach.
Head back out. Search and search and finally find a 3X. Here we go again.
This time, it's so big my boobs keep falling out, and I actually feel skinny! But alas, it doesn't fit. Figures. I finally find the perfect bathing suit and they don't have my size.
On the off chance, I go looking for a 2X. Surely they won't have one, I say to myself. I'm working myself up for a disappointment.
But there... in the dark chasm of the flipped-off-the-hanger-don't-have-time-to-put-it-back-on vacuum of forgotten bathing suits.... I see a glimmer of gold....
No. It can't be. But as I reach in and grab it, bringing it slowly up, the fluorescent lights make the gold ring flicker so beautifully, and I know. I just know.
Tepidly I find the tag.... and there it is, in bold black letters: 2X!!
Woo hoo!!!
It's funny when James gets home that night. I'm sitting on the couch when he walks in. I casually inform him I went bathing suit shopping. I see his eyes get big and he slowly backs towards the door he just entered.
"No, it's ok babe. I found the perfect one!"
We celebrated by buying 6 pints of Ben and Jerry's.
Anyway, the B family went swimming the other night and I thought I'd blog about it.
James swims for about 10 minutes then vegetates in the hot tub for the rest of the hour or so. I can't really blame him, I mean he does work all day in the blistering heat... but c'mon! Your wife is in a smoking hot bathing suit, the kids are occupied and you want to SIT THERE?!! Whatever.
I, on the other hand, love water. Rain, puddles, swimming pools, love it. This pool happens to have three shower head thingies that "rain" into the pool. So I swim about and then stand autistically under the rain for 45 minutes. Love it.
Lily runs and jumps into the pool, oh, a million times. Every time we are obliged to watch her do this! but the jump never changes. Oh! She did add a spin once.
Caleb likes to spin around as much as I like water. When he gets tired, frustrated or mad he gets on his Sit-N-Spin and away he goes. He's been known to spin himself to sleep or throw up and jump back on it again.
Can you guess what he's doing in the pool?
Yup. Spinning. The whole time. And when one of us gets into his "spinning zone" he lashes out with a scream and a few kicks.
So there we are.
ZZZZZZ (asleep in the hot tub)
Ooohhhh... rain.....
"WATCH THIS MOM CAN YOU SEE ME ARE YOU WATCHING WATCH ME MOM LOOK!!!"
Spin. Spin. Spin. Spin.