Letters From the Shallow End: The Tale of the Great Flying Woman

With the help of double-sided tape, she'd show the word anything was possible.

Afternoon Readers,

     You know what makes you feel young again? Listening to Supertramp. Probably because when the song I'm listening to came out I wasn't even born yet. If listening to this song calls up memories of smoking at the bowling alley while trying to get that popular guy with the Camero to notice you...I'm sorry I just ruined your Friday.

Know what'll make you feel better?

...no, I'm all out of Vicodin. I'm shocked you'd ask.... see me after I have this baby.

No, no, it's time, of course, for another horrifying tale from the ever-crowded, ever-urine-filled, popular hangout of the diaper set and the mothers who are there to tan that weird line under their armpit away...what the heck is that?It kind of looks like Bob Costas' profile love, nurture and fill another summer full of fun.

Waddle with me to...

Where I Hang Out on Wednesdays

Morning Readers,

     Generally, I like to schedule the times I laugh for one day a week. That day is Wednesday. You might think I laugh other days of the week, but if you could see my face right now, you'd be like, "I guess not."

It could be because I have a bowling ball sitting on my bladder.

Or because both the twins slept on top of me while we all attempted to sleep on the couch last night.

My money's on the fact the extra-large t-shirt I'm wearing looks more like an elephant's sports bra than the chic top the designer intended it to be. To whoever designed it, please know that it looks great with lemon yogurt and low expectations.

Your Face Is On Backwards: Five Steps to Beautiful Makeup

"My kids have bumped into me so many times while I'm doing my makeup, I only poop lipstick."

Afternoon Readers,

     Finally got the twins down for a nap. It's amazing what a few elephant tranquilizers and some NyQuil can do....

..to get rings out of the tub, people. Not to give to your kids. Kidding. Sort of. Depends on the day you're having. I won't judge. *sets down mortar and pestle and walks away whistling.*

Letters From the Shallow End: And They Called Her "Outcast"

"Sorry, Barb. Only moms who don't lose their kids get to hang out at the light house. Now, beat it."

Morning Readers,

     It's Friday, do you know where your kids are? Me either. Oh, wait, no, there's smoke coming from the bathroom and I hear some sort of intense debate going on in broken English, so we're good. I don't always lose my kids, but when I do, it's usually because I'm drinking a Dos Equis or we've stumbled into a world of limited sight and too much sound. A dimension where most of the climate is made up of urine and tears. The laminated sign up ahead?

You're now waddling into...

Letters From the Shallow End of the Baby Pool

Part III: And They Called Her "Outcast"

June 22nd, 2012

Dear Mom Collective,

I'll Never Have Enough Tupperware To Buy A New Car

"I'm telling you, I've got a wheel of cheese with your name on it." ..... "And I'm telling you, lady, we don't sell cars to crazy people."

Morning Readers,

     I'll get right to it. I saw a car I liked. It was beautiful and looked like it was comprised primarily of all my dreams and smooth white chocolate. I wanted to curl up in the leather captain's chairs and tell them about my hopes, whisper my aspirations to the third row seating, pat the unmarred steering wheel and ask, "Where to today, Captain, my Captain?" The price tag said I couldn't. The button that said, "We finance anyone, even squirrels," said, "Yes."

     I clicked the link. "Hello, my name is Paige Kellerman. I heard you finance squirrels. I am looking to purchase a new squirrel. No, wait, I meant I'm looking to purchase a new car. I like the one I'm pointing to on my screen."

Monday Checklist

"Next time I do a keg stand in the kitchen, I'm putting a towel down first."

Afternoon Readers,

     As grocery shopping's calling my name in that sultry way it's accustomed to, I'm popping in to mention a few things that are worth mentioning before I head to the frozen food aisle, hide in one of the cases and wave at people just for fun. Then again, as it's Monday, I may shake things up and hand people their Birdseye peas instead. If this is something that appeals to you, try making the hand-off while mumbling something like, "They always take all the blankets."

Monday Checklist: Things Worth Mentioning 

1.) Sunday was Father's Day. A lot of people wrote some really nice things about their fathers and husbands yesterday. I didn't, mostly because I'm ungrateful and self centered. Mostly because I was watching Shaun of the Dead with the twins. So, here's where I thank my dad for giving me life and thank Husband for not minding when I covered the babies eyes while I laughed hysterically.

Letters From The Shallow End of the Baby Pool: Hoarders

Another tragic game of Sea Horse the Impaler...

Morning Readers,

     It's Friday, and you all know what that means. That's right...I had Honey Grahams for breakfast...except, they were the off-brand kind, and I've also eaten them for the last four days straight, so that doesn't make Friday special at all. What does make Friday special is yet another installment of our summer series.

Cue Vivaldi's Four Seasons.

Cue baby deer running across an open field.

Cue me staring at the half-pee, half-urine, half water, half-chlorinated recesses of an expose' filled, concrete basin of intrigue.

Cue this week's installment of...

To Their Own Devices

"So I was all like,"Who cares if they glued their faces to the garage door, the meatloaf's in the oven isn't it?"

Afternoon Readers,

     It's getting harder and harder to get things done around this joint. Not only am I moving at the pace of a snail who just found out that he has to meet his blind date at a salt lick, but the twins are getting faster and craftier, and thinner and better looking and reminding me that my youth is gone and so is my deodorant. And it all stinks...especially me.
And survey says: people like me better when I smell like sweet hydrangeas and honeysuckle canoodling on a dewy spring morning.

     At any rate, I'm having to either find things to keep Butch and Sundance busy or ignore the horrible disasters they're concocting and keep folding the laundry. The hard part is convincing Husband that I'm not ignoring them in order to get stuff done. For instance, as were lying in bed the other evening it became abundantly clear I'm going to have to up my game and reapply my poker face...

I Love You....Even If You're Nuts

"I have no idea what he's talking about most of the time. I only know I married him and he's well hydrated."

Afternoon Readers,

     You probably left last week thinking I only have odd conversations with the twins and myself and inanimate objects, and people that aren't there, and the panini I just ate, but you'd be wrong. I propose we kick off this week with a conversation I had with Husband on Saturday that I still don't understand, but left me strangely attracted to him and also wanting chocolate*

*chocolate may have been unrelated to particular incident. I feel the urge to eat about every five minutes, as it stands. If I'd been wanting something like a good run around the park, that would've been something we'd be going over tomorrow.

And now....

Letters From The Shallow End of the Baby Pool: Thank You For Not Being Perfect

"Marge, I just love when you bring your ukulele to the beach, then we have a reason to carry the giant parasol."

Morning Readers,
 
     Today I'm proud to bring you this week's research from the place the majority of you probably neither know nor love, but someone's gotta be the crack reporter, sifting through pool toys and making sure no one's peed in the beach bag. I know what you're thinking, "Paige, how did I get so lucky on a Friday in June?" And to you I say...

...my full name is Paige Rabbit Foot Random Penny Heads Up Never Broken A Mirror Kellerman.

And now, while you're deciding whether my name really needed hyphens or not.

And Now, Deep Thoughts With Butch and Sundance...

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, put that cookie back. What do you mean if you burned down the swing set "hypothetically"..?"

Morning Readers,

     Before I head back out to the pool to do more in depth research about the intellectual, philosophical and fecal mattered climate in today's baby pools, I thought I'd share a few conversations with you I've had with Butch and Sundance this past week. If you're familiar with with my #Toddlerthoughts hashtag on the Facebook or the Twitter, then you know we're about to delve into the complex and mysterious. If you're not familiar with it, then you're lying because I just told you.

And now, conversations with Butch and Sundance...

Well Burn My Bra:The Top Five Things I've Just Now Realized About Concerts....

And everyone says I don't know how to work a cardigan..phsssh

Afternoon Readers,

     Probably my two favorite things about an exotic, adventurous weekend, is the exoticness and the adventure. Oh, and the walking. As mentioned on Friday, Husband and I ventured out to a concert/festival/death march so we could see how the other half is living and also because we heard people still had fun and wanted to witness it for ourselves. Now, I haven't been to one in a while, but as I was sitting in my seat, roasting like a pregnant Christmas ham, I did take note of a few things that have changed with concert-going experience. I chalked this up to me staying my same cool self and the rest of the world not being able to keep up.

Top Five Observations About the Modern Concert

by

Paige Kellerman

(coolest person ever, according to your mother..)

More Nonsense

Afternoon Readers,

     What's new on this beautiful Friday? I'm glad you asked. First off, I've killed three spiders within the last twenty-four hours, so we all know that means the End of Days is nigh. But, in even bigger news, my lovely friend Melynda has out-run the Rapture with the release of her brand new book today!

....I'll give you a second to open your streamers and party hat. It's customary to have them ready, but, as you were.

     At any rate, More Nonsense, by Melynda Fleury has hit the shelves, and is available for your viewing pleasure. If you'd like to read an excerpt, please hop on over to her fantastic blog, Crazy world, and enjoy your time there if you've never visited. For your convenience, you can check out the book at Amazon or Smashwords ...wherever your clicky fingers tend to take you when purchasing literature.

     And now, I must away to work on a few things and get ready for a concert I'm going to tomorrow...yes, pregnant, roaming a concert. Come see me on Monday.

Until Next Time, Readers!