Blog Archive

Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Stuntin' like I'm 9 months pregnant

I may be large, awkward, and unwieldy. I may have what is essentially a giant watermelon hung from my spine and dangling between my legs (or at least it certainly feels that way).

But don't you for one second think that I'm not still capable of stunts that would make even the Flying Wallendas blanche!

This guy ain't got nothin on me.

Here are the stunning feats of acrobatics that I am still able to perform, and their difficulty ratings. Prepare to be impressed:


Maneuver: Use my ab muscles to pull in and lift my entire uterus
Difficulty: 8.5

As my uterus grows and my belly hangs off me like a piece of overripe fruit, exercising full control over the abdominal wall becomes more and more difficult. Non-pregnant me can easily flex all the abs and pull the belly in to a flat and hard state. Pregnant me, however? Not so easy.

But in the right circumstances, I can still do it. Obviously not pull the belly in to flatness, since that is literally impossible given the size of my uterus compared to the size of my body, but still ... a heck of a lot flatter than it is right now. I call this move the Belly Lift, and it involves flexing all my abs at once and using them to lift my enormous uterus up and in.

I have shown this stunt to many people, and the response has been almost universally the same: "Do that again." [I do it again] "Gross."

So yes, it is impressive. I am available for parties, but not for much longer.

And before you even ask, OF COURSE I MADE VIDEOS AND TURNED THEM INTO GIFS. Who do you think I am, some kind of amateur?!?!

"Do that again."



"Gross."



Maneuver: Drop into a full lunge to pick something up off the floor while holding Audrey
Difficulty: 8.8

According the the bathroom scale that Audrey insists on weighing herself on several times a week, my little 22-month-old weighs 27.4 pounds.

According to that same bathroom scale, my weight gain thus far this pregnancy is between 26-29 pounds (depending on the time of day and how many Chipotle burritos I have eaten that week).

Getting out my trusty calculator, this means that I can drop into a low enough lunge to reach whatever critical item has been dropped onto the floor while holding at least 54 pounds of extra weight. And then I can stand all the way back up afterwards. I can do this as many as one times in a row.

That being said, I don't think I will be performing this stunt any more from here on out. There's simply too much risk that I will get down and then not be able to get back up, and I'll either have to toss Audrey at the ground, fall over, or call for help from a ridiculous position.


"But why did you start kneeling on the floor?"
"STOP ASKING QUESTIONS AND JUST HELP ME, JESSE."




Maneuver: Prop my leg up at chest height in the shower to shave
Difficulty: 9.1

Yes, I do still shave my legs. And I haven't even changed my technique! I still lift my leg up and rest my toesies on the chest-height ledge in the shower to do it.

Except on days where my sciatic back pain is acting up really badly.

You can tell those days because my right leg will be smooth.

Only my right leg.



Maneuver: While holding Audrey, pick up her binkie with my foot and transfer it into my other hand
Difficulty: 9.2

I don't think the title on this one makes it clear just exactly how incredible this feat is. So let me describe it further: I hold the 27.4 pound Audrey in my right arm, resting her weight on my hip while my giant belly hangs off my front.

I balance this precarious tower on my right foot only.

I take all weight off my left foot and use my long, monkey-like toes to grab Audrey's binkie, which she has dropped onto the floor.

I then bend my left leg at the knee until my left hand can reach the binkie that is gripped in my toe-fingers.

And I give the binkie back to Audrey.

And she doesn't thank me, because she has no concept of how incredible it is that I was able to do this.

WHEN WILL SHE EVER LEARN TO APPRECIATE MY TALENTS.





Maneuver: Sit down on the floor in the middle of a room (i.e. not near anything I can use to pull myself up) and then return to my feet again without help
Difficulty: 9.9

This maneuver is so difficult that it's risky to even attempt it without a spotter. You may find yourself stuck on the floor, having to crawl over to a counter or railing to pull yourself back to your feet.

I have only dared attempt it a couple of times in the recent past, because I know the risks.

Here is my technique, starting from a criss-cross-applesauce seated position:
-- untangle legs and roll forward onto hands and knees
-- open knees to at least shoulder width apart
-- shift weight towards hands and then tuck feet under you
-- walk hands in towards feet, moving more and more weight onto feet
-- straighten legs slowly, either with hands still on the floor or transferred to your knees (depending on flexibility). Don't be a hero and try to stand up all at once
-- once legs are mostly straight, begin rolling body up one vertebrae at a time until you have reached a standing position

Congratulations! You have successfully stood up from a seated position on the floor!!! 




Maneuver: Put on underwear while standing up
Difficulty: 10

Lol just kidding. I cannot do this.

:'(

Thursday, July 30, 2015

Belly laughs: The best parts of parenting toddlers

It's no secret that parenting toddlers is hard. They require CONSTANT supervision, they're mobile, they're fast, and they're always getting into things they shouldn't be. They often want to do things that are a pain in the ass for you (like go outside and play in the pool -- okay, just let me fill the pool, put you in your swimsuit and swim diaper, get all the pool toys out, get you the cup of juice that you're going to ask for twenty seconds after we get outside, cover you in sunscreen and put up the sun shade, put your hat on, get your shoes on, get my shoes on, go outside, put you in the pool ... oh, now you want to watch Elmo? NO YOU'RE PLAYING IN THE POOL GODDAMMIT AND YOU ARE GOING TO LIKE IT.), and they can be unholy terrors when they don't get what they want.

But they're also the best little people on the planet. Because Audrey makes me laugh like I haven't laughed in years.

Now, I'm not some unhappy miser with a shit life. I laugh a lot. But I'm telling you right now, the way that I laugh at a good joke or a funny movie is COMPLETELY different from the uncontrolled, boisterously happy laughter that comes out of me when I'm playing with Audrey.

So here comes a really happy post about some of the moments where I just completely lose myself in giggly belly laughs with my daughter:



When she tries to wash her butt

When Audrey takes a bath, she now likes to have the faucet running continuously while she's in there. I turn it way down to barely more than a trickle, but I let it run because it makes her happy and costs me very little. And she gleefully puts her toys under the faucet, and fills her Elmo cup, washes her hands over and over again, and accidentally turns on the shower and then gets angry when it sprays her head.

But I will never forget the first time she stood up and backed that ass up until the water from the faucet was running directly down her little buttcrack. 




It was hysterical.

The funniest part, I think, was the look on her face. She was not smiling or laughing. She was not doing this to be funny. She just wanted to wash her butt.

She then took it to the next level one hot summer day when we were out front playing bubbles. She had made a huge mess with the bubbles, getting bubble liquid all over both of us and various items in the garage, so I turned on the front hose faucet (which had no hose attached) and was rinsing off the soapy items under the water. Audrey came over and started sticking her hands under the faucet too.

For some reason, like a true idiot, I believed that Audrey would do her best to keep her clothing dry the same way you or I would when dressed in non-swimming attire. I don't know why I believed this -- I've seen her sit down in a swimming pool while wearing a normal disposable diaper and a dress -- but believe it I did.

So imagine my surprise when Audrey, wearing a t-shirt and basketball shorts, turned around and backed dat ass up under the hose faucet like she was going to wash her buttcrack again.




I lost it. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time.

Oh, Audrey. 



When she makes a Level 10 Five Alarm mess

There are messes that make you shout "NONONONONO!" because there's still some level of tragedy that is preventable -- like when something is in the act of spilling, or when tiny hands or feet are juuuuust about to smear the mess onto a much larger area.

And then there are the messes that are so vast and horrific that there isn't anything you can do anymore except laugh.

When a full plate of ketchup-coated dinner gets tossed off a high chair tray and hits the ground with enough force to coat the entire floor within a five foot radius, you laugh.

When a naked toddler running wild upstairs lets out a ten gallon pee all over your bedroom carpet, you laugh.

When a Big Gulp-sized cup is filled with bathwater and dumped all over you as you kneel outside of the bathtub, you laugh.

You have to.


The other day, we were at a party at my parents' house and Audrey was eating cupcakes. She is a BIG fan of cupcakes.

... and cake pops. Mmmmm.

When she decided that she wanted more cupcakes after dinner, she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

I told her no over and over again. She'd had way too much sugar by that point, and we needed to pack up and go home. We were taking a few cupcakes home with us, so I reminded her that she could have some cupcake tomorrow and then I set the box of cupcakes up on the tray of the high chair she was no longer sitting in. You know, where she couldn't reach them.

BIG MISTAKE. She stood on her tiptoes, reached up, and grabbed the edge of the box, flipping them down onto the floor. All five cupcakes fell out of the box. And all five cupcakes landed top-down on the hardwood.

I f***ing lost it. I stood there staring at the ruined cupcakes (seriously, the beautifully soft creamy cupcakes' frosting was little more than a series of splatters at that point) and started laughing so hard I had to sit down. I didn't make any move to clean up the cupcakes until the dog wandered over and started moving in on them ... at which point I scraped the icing off the floor, put it back on the cupcakes, gave a piece of one to the now-sobbing Audrey, and took the rest home for me and Jesse to eat.

We're not too good for floor cupcakes.

And all that icing turned Audrey's poop bright blue for three days afterwards.



When she accuses someone of pooping

Audrey does not fully understand that pooping and farting are different bodily functions. She often confuses them, which results in me and Jesse being accused of shitting ourselves.

I find this endlessly hilarious.

One morning, Audrey and I were puttering around in the kitchen when I farted. Yeah yeah, I know, I'm a girl ... but it happened. It was the only time in my entire life, I swear.

Audrey heard the fart, of course, and immediately ran up to me and announced "Mommy did a poopoo!" I giggled and corrected her that Mommy did not, in fact, do a 'poopoo' but instead had done a 'toot toot.'

Audrey took this information and thought deeply about it, looking at me with curiosity and concern. And then she said the words that I can still hear in my head, in her sweet little toddler voice: "Mommy did ... a poop? No poopoo but ... a poop?"

I died. That was it. I could live no longer. She just knew that I had shit my pants and was trying to cover it up by claiming that it was merely a fart. Maybe my crimes did not rise to the level of 'poopoo,' but surely at minimum a poop had occurred.

Surely a poop!


Jesse farted in the bathroom one day while Audrey was having a bath. "Daddy did a big poop!" she announced, and I laughed so hard I almost peed myself.

He farted in bed one morning while we were all cuddled up. "Daddy went poopoo in bed!" He proclaimed his innocence, to which she responded "Daddy pooped in bed!"


It's funny every single time



When we create a blizzard of bubbles

Neither Audrey nor I have any talent at blowing bubbles with a regular wand, so I bought a couple of battery-powered bubble guns that use fans to do what our stupid mouths apparently can't. 

When Audrey and I play with them, things get completely out of hand. Two people blasting bubbles out of bubble guns in the same area at the same time ... within seconds, the two of us are completely engulfed. Literally hundreds of bubbles floating around us like an insane snowstorm made of happiness and childish wonderment. Audrey gets excited and starts trying to pop the bubbles. Her excitement is absolutely contagious, and before I know it, I am laughing with pure joy too as the storm of bubbles begins to settle around us and pop.

Bubbles are just ... happy.

So I dip my bubble gun again, and I make more.

And my daughter squeals with laughter.

And I am so happy I could just burst.


Having kids is a lot of work, but man does it ever have its moments. If a coworker accused me of pooping my pants, or if a friend dropped an entire cake upside down on the ground, or even if Jesse and I sat outside filling the air with bubbles, it would never make me laugh like this. But add a touch of childish innocence to the equation, and we find ourselves in the land of belly laughs.

I love it here.



Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Why I can't give my kid the intials "TJ": A really mean rejection of a common nickname

37 weeks pregnant today, a.k.a "early term" -- in other words, baby is cooked rare, but still very edible.

And Jesse and I still don't really have a middle name sorted out.

The real issue is that we have a LOT of J-names in our family. Jesse and I are both J-names, both of our fathers are (technically) J-names ... so this whole thing would be a breeze if the J-name thing was an option.

But it's not. Because then his name would be Trevor J, and somebody, somewhere along the line, would be like "oh hey, your initials are TJ! We should totally call you that!"

And then he would be TJ. And that would be the end of my smart, ambitious, well-mannered Trevor. And the beginning of ... TJ.

What do I have against the nickname TJ? SO MANY THINGS. Every time this conversation comes up, I offer up a new story for things that I picture "TJ" doing that "Trevor" would never think of. And so I have decided to collect them all for you in one place, and come up with some more too.

If you know anyone named TJ in real life, please don't show them this. It's going to be really mean. I'm sure all your TJs are wonderful people whose brains work flawlessly 100% of the time, and none of this applies and I'm an asshole for even thinking of it.

So with that ...

____________________

TJ is the kind of guy who, at the age of 30, drives an ice cream truck and sells popsicles to neighborhood children. This is his career.

TJ does not own the ice cream truck outright, mind you. He rents it from an Indian fellow who he pays $1000 per month.

TJ thinks that this is a very reasonable arrangement, and is furious that we don't support him in his "business enterprise."


TJ living the dream.


____________________

TJ tries to reverse his car out of the driveway, but accidentally puts it into "Drive" and plows into the garage door instead.

The first time he did it, we dismissed it as an accident that could happen to anyone.

But by the third time TJ plowed into the garage door -- perfectly sober each time -- we began to wonder.


"How were you even driving fast enough to cause so much damage??!"
"I didn't see it."

____________________

TJ buys a huge box of single-serving cartons of chocolate milk like they serve to elementary school children, and gets angry when no one will help him make room for it in the kitchen refrigerator.

When asked why he decided to purchase such a large quantity of milk, TJ insists that it was "a great deal" and leaves it at that.

A week later, when all the milk has gone sour and has to be thrown away, TJ becomes angry that nobody helped him drink it, because now it was a waste rather than a good deal.

Perhaps the reason nobody helped him drink it is because he was charging $1 a carton for the privilege.


"Y'all are a bunch of idiots! Do you know how much these cartons cost when you buy them at the gas station? Way more than a buck each!"

____________________

TJ believed that giraffes reproduce by laying eggs. He held this belief until he was 26.


I mean, why wouldn't giraffes lay eggs?

____________________

TJ spent $300 on a computer monitor from a guy on Craigslist. The guy told him it was an all-in-one computer like an iMac, and TJ just accepted this as fact.

It was not.


I don't even think this was worth $300 when it was brand new. You know, back in 1994.


____________________

The following is a list of reasons why TJ has called 911 in the past:
  • He was locked out of his house
  • He got a flat tire on the freeway
  • His neighbor was drunk
  • A woman insulted him at Target
  • He thought his cat was missing. Turns out the cat was under his bed.



No TJ. Just no.