It's Gotta be Jelly Cause Jam Don't Shake Like That

Afternoon Readers,

While standing at the sink this morning, I came to a conclusion. This conclusion was brought on by the otherworldly shaking my hip/belly fat made while I mixed the twin's bottles. I'm of the opinion that anytime one can watch as a ripple makes it's way from around the lower back and culminate in a size-mic earthquake around the belly button area...there's a potential problem.  It begs desperately for someone to call the National Guard, as you may just take out a few small buildings if your muffin top gyrates wrong. Standing in my sweatshirt, underwear, and fuzzy ankle boot slippers, I decided then and there that it's time for a change. It's time to get off my butt and workout....ugh.
     Anyone who knows me, knows that working out and I are mortal enemies of the most serious kind. Working out is the Darth Vader to my Luke Skywalker...the Joker to my Batman. I hate it and it hates me, and I've been A-ok with this for most of my years on this planet. Now, I'm well aware that there are those who enjoy a very satisfying love affair with it; jogging in their matching spandex and sleek, blond ponytails. I WISH I was that waif of a lady running on the treadmill like a pack of wild wolverines was after her, all the while keeping a smile that says, " I don't have to use a crow bar to zip MY pants." Barf.

Baby Burlesque or The Art of The Public Diaper Change

Good Morning Readers,

It seems as though it’s been forever since I posted. This is due in part to the impending holiday tornado that’s about to descend upon a wide-eyed and sleep deprived me, and partly because nothing exciting has transpired over the last few days. I do, however, have to take time out of my regularly scheduled day to share something new I'm now being subjected to whenever I leave my house....the public diaper change.

     If I could pick one word to describe this experience, I'd be just grazing the wide, wonderful pool of adjectives by picking "magical". There’s simply nothing like having to strip your baby down in the middle of a parking lot in order to sanitize its nether-regions, while simultaneously trying to avoid the horrified stares of the general public. In my case, both the twins needed to be changed after we exited a last minute shopping trip this past weekend, and this went quickly from a simple job, to what, I’m certain, resembled a circus side show act.

Peace and Dogsicles

Hey Readers,

You've found me in the middle of an important decision. Should I keep staring at my dog through the glass door?....or should I let him in? Now, if I let him in, there's a good chance that I might find myself in the middle of a crime scene. Murder most foul as it turns out. If I dont let him in, he may turn into a boxer shaped popsicle, thanks to the chilly Midwest's disposition to freeze everything in its path. Decisions. Decisions.
     Everyone of my readers whose a PITA member has already phoned my name in, I'm sure. Everyone else, please hear me out. Hold on...I think he's trying to write something on the door. No..wait....yep, just licking it like an idiot. Ok, so here's the thing.

When Old Ladies Wrestle Dog Food

Good Afternoon Readers,

I had to stop and check myself this morning, because as it turns out, I may just be a bad parent…or possibly incapable…I haven’t decided which yet. How do I know? Well, it’s certainly not from any physical signs I’ve detected lately. I have all my hair and my knees work ok. But, I have gotten a few ques from the geriatric population recently, that could suggest that my children are in the wrong set of un-manicured hands. I’ll let you make the call.

     Let’s rewind to yesterday’s expedition to a certain Supercenter. I haven’t updated you lately, but the process has gotten a lot smoother. I look like a pack mule…but smoother.

It’s important for you to have an idea of what this looks like however. Due to votes from both the twins, the stroller has been deemed an evil contraption and because of this, sits abandoned in the back of the car. Therefore, when entering any store, I do so with my son strapped to the front of me in the Baby Bjorn, and my daughter, in her carseat, securely placed in the front of the cart. This actually works out great for my son as he likes to take his sisters socks off and throw them behind us as we walk.

Death to You Oh Blackest of Fridays..

Good Morning Readers,

How is everyone? I know I've been absent again, but it's that time of year. I’m of course referring to the past Thanksgiving weekend. Nothing truly pivotal happened besides the usual family gathering, over-eating, and falling asleep to visions of pumpkin pies dancing in my head. (I AM a fat kid occasionally). However, we did learn a little something about Black Friday. Ready? Never ever ever ever…take your babies to the mall on that day.

     Now, I know some of you are laughing to yourselves saying “Of course not you fool!”, but sometimes as a parent, you get bored, and that prompts you to do things that defy reason. This includes navigating your family through a sea of sweaty, desperate people searching for the cheapest head-contouring pillow, blender, porcelain porpoise, etc…on the market.