Don't Lick The Minivan: Leanne Shirtliffe Comes to Visit

Morning Readers,

You know what's even more exciting than having a book come out in the future? That's right. A book that comes out today.  Leanne Shirtliffe and I have slowly gotten to know each other over the last couple years, and now I not only leave inappropriate Canadian jokes on her Facebook wall, but she's gotten to the point she'll admit she knows me.

We're practically BFFs. And while I wait on the matching halves of our heart necklace to be forged at a very discreet Etsy shop, Leanne keeps me entertained with stories of her twins and husband. Her kids are a little bit older though, so I'm assured frequently how much more ridiculous my life is going to get.

So, I'm overwhelmed with pride to announce that Leanne Shirtliffe's first book (buy it only if you want to hear extremely entertaining stories) has been released today, and she's traveled all the way from Canada to give some thoughts on pregnancy.

Take it away, Leanne!

Top 9 Funny Pregnancy Tips

When my mom had babies, pregnancy was measured in months. When I had babies, gestation was measured in weeks. To keep evolving, women need to start measuring their time knocked up in minutes: 403,200 to be precise. Someone should write a song about that. A dirge.

That above fact was your bonus pregnancy tip, the prize in the box of Cracker Jacks. Without further ado, here are the Top 9 Funny Pregnancy Tips, as taken from my humor book, Don’t Lick the Minivan:

1.      Avoid looking in the mirror during pregnancy. Denial is an excellent strategy that will help you once your child is born.

2.      Misbehave during prenatal classes. Nothing is going to go according to plan anyway.

3.      Measure the progress of your pregnancy with a walk–into–the–wall contest. ("Progress" being a very loose term.)

4.      During pregnancy (or any other time), if your husband comments that you have the measurements of an NFL player, it's perfectly legal to throw a book at him.

5.      Give bizarre names to your fetus. Like Cletus.

6.      Record all the stupid things people say to you while pregnant. Stop after you give birth; you won't have enough free time to jot down the stupid things people say to parents.

7.      Embraces fluctuations in your bra size; the fluctuations in your other sizes aren't nearly as fun.

8.      Read the fine print and the non-existent return policy before you get knocked up.

9.      Lying is an invaluable strategy for parents. Start practicing as soon as you’re pregnant.

What other pregnancy tips would you add to the list, facetious or not? What kind of advice were you given?

Leanne Shirtliffe is the author of DON'TLICK THE MINIVAN: Things I Never Thought I'd Say to My Kids. She’s also the mother of tween twins, a phrase that’s hard to say after two glasses of wine. She writes for the Huffington Post and Nickelodeon's NickMom.com and has been published by The Christian Science Monitor, The Calgary Herald, and The Globe and Mail. When she’s not wasting brain cells tweeting, she teaches teens who are slightly less hormonal than she is. She lives in Calgary because she likes complaining about the weather.

Buy Leanne’s book. Money will go to support her children’s therapy. Or her own.

Until Next Time, Readers!

Crying to Attain Maximum Drama: In Ten Fun Steps

Afternoon Readers,

I hope everyone's weekend was satisfactory. Everything at the Kellerman house flowed smoothly. All children, pets and frazzled parents accounted for, and Husband I were only required to participate in three hundred games of, "I've got something behind my back that I found outside. Guess what it is."

Possibly the most terrifying game on the planet.

But we're not gathered here today to talk about children potentially gifting their parents with heart attacks in the form of a rock or two-headed toad. Nope. I want to throw a comp tutorial on how cry in the most dramatic way possible.

Why is this necessary?

First and foremost, it's essential to know how to tap into this talent because, one day, you may win an Oscar and need to draw as much attention to yourself as possible during the acceptance speech. Remember, it goes: Hug statuette, forget to thank your spouse, weep on Gucci ballgown.

But, besides that, over-the-top crying works wonders when you're overwhelmed and need to feel sorry for yourself. Oh yes, for those of you who think I never cry, please note that this occurs while I'm pregnant, but also when I haven't slept.

I'm fairly sure I'm not pregnant, so I'm going to chalk this morning's breakdown up to only getting to sleep until 4:30am before it was time to get up for the day, courtesy of the baby, me not being able to fall back to sleep after feeding said baby, and the twins needing breakfast at 6am. 

So, let's go through the steps, shall we? Because I simply can't have you all experiencing emotional breakdowns without the proper tutelage.

No, no. It's my pleasure. No trouble at all. I'm great at complaining.

 Crying to Attain Maximum Drama: In Ten Easy Steps

The Evolution of A Question

"Well, the neighbor said mom snuck out of the country, but left a number where she could be reached, so that was dumb."

Afternoon Readers,

Now is as good a time as any to take a break from making, what I can assure you are, less than angelic Angel Food cupcakes, let the smoke clear, and drink the last of this coffee ...the times it's been reheated are no matter. It'll probably melt my face off, regardless.

(Actually, it's kind of a miracle the cupcakes were made at all, considering the rate I'm being questioned these days. I can't say I was particularly ready to move into this stage of parenting, but you can't stunt their growth with horrible crock pot recipes forever.)

The twins don't nap anymore, which is great because now they have time to fill the day with all sorts of queries. Some I can answer. Others I can't hear over the clinking of the ice in my high ball. But the good news is they're developing and curious. The bad news is they rarely accept my answer to anything.

Dumpster Diving

"All I saw was legs kicking and a lady screaming, "Is that a dead pheasant?""

 Morning Readers,

Judging by the sudden switch from bitter cold to ridiculous heat, I'd say Kansas has officially skipped spring and declared us to be in an emergency state of summer.

Yay.

Honestly, I was tempted to turn on the ac yesterday, but, as we have our trusty attic fan up and working again, I couldn't really justify it. What I did justify was piling all the children in the van and heading out to do a midday car wash/ car vacuuming, because the Teddy Graham population had multiplied to such an extent, I found a petition on the steering wheel, asking that they be granted the area behind my seat as a preserve.

Look What Came In the Mail ...June 3rd, My Dears

Someone once told me a well-placed pipe in a picture lends more credibility to most authors.

Afternoon Readers,

I hope everyone had a fantastic Mother's Day, and enjoyed being pummeled in the head by multiple toddlers.

Besides the holiday, celebrating the twins birthday, and tracking down all missing parts to Mr. Potato Head and other birthday gifts, a light also shone in my mail box this weekend and I got my hands on the very first copy of the book.

So, today I'm popping in to assure you that At Least My Belly Hides My Cankles: Mostly-True Tales of An Impending Miracle is a real, tangible thing, and that you, my dear Readers, will be able to get your own on June 3rd!

...yes, June 3rd of this year.

And stay tuned, because the week before the release may just hold some semi-non-yawn-inducing things I'm giving away, so be prepared. Not fallout shelter prepared, but you know where I'm going with this.

Ok, I'm off to go make hotdogs and cut them into boring shapes because I'm not a fun mom, but I shall regale you with a story on Wednesday, or, as I like to call it, the third Monday of the week.


Until Next Time, Readers!

Three is the Magic Number

"Is she still staring at us?"

Afternoon Readers,

I'd just to take a moment to state that the new Peanut Butter Toast Crunch tastes a little odd.

Now then, between bites of this slightly-off cereal, let's throw a group,"Happy Birthday" out to a pair of twins who are a constant source of fascination and interesting fashion choices.

Oh, wait. No, the Olsen twins aren't twenty-seven until June.

Well, that's ok, because it just so happens that Butch and Sundance turn three today. That's right, three years of semi-successful parenting, three years of random yet acceptable blog content, and three years of having the best kids in the entire world. I tend to be a little biased because they look freakishly like me and can make a mean Koolaid/ bagel swamp at mealtimes.

So, what advancements did they make this past year?

The Fan-tastical Attic Fan

"When the fan broke, I set up camp next to this wagon wheel. Not much cooler, but there's lots of spokes emphasize the rustic quality of my button downs."

Morning Readers,

You know what I love more than Strawberry ice cream with chocolate sauce?

Nothing.

Ok, I'm kidding.

No, I'm not kidding. That gloriousness is the pinnacle of dairy confection perfection.

But, today, running a close second, is the attic fan. Do you have an attic fan? I'm not sure if they're like the noble salmon, migrating and enriching the ecosystem wherever they go, but I do know that these types of fans, snugly embedded in hallways ceilings, are extremely prominent in the Midwest.