Rain, More Rain, and Really Big Bathing Suits

June 30, 2009

Well friends, it's still raining in Maine. If I had to venture an honest guess, I'd say we've had two or three days of sun during the entire month of June. And according to the ten-day forecast, we shouldn't expect to see the sun until next Wednesday.

Long live the summer!

Swimming lessons started yesterday, and guess what? They were cancelled. Due to thunder.

You see, up here in Maine we don't do swanky swimming lessons in indoor pools--we pay $5 for a snotty little teenager to teach our kids to swim in the lake--the 54 degree lake. As of yet, swimming lesson are still a go for today--you know, with scattered showers and a high of 57.

In honor of the next three weeks, I taught James the word "hell." As in, "This lake is cold as a frozen chunk of hell," and "Why in the hell do you do this to me, Mom?" I'm hoping the extended vocabulary takes the edge off of his discomfort--I know it always works for me.

Oh, and geeze, I almost forgot to mention that James's 4-year-old group lesson is described in the flyer as a "parental involvement class."

Joy above joys.

Not only do I get the opportunity to shiver my cellulite off, but I also have the rare and unique chance to show my half-naked pregnant body to James's friends' parents, a handful of neighbors, and our adorable teenage babysitter (just one more reason not to have sex in high school, honey!).

I mean, don't get me wrong here, I'm all for walking out to the mailbox in my underpants--there's just something about the size large maternity tankini that makes me want to hide. Behind my 45 pound son.

So there ya go. Yay summer!!!

Late Night Musings

June 19, 2009

Happy Friday, everyone. I don't know how the weather's holding up in your neck of the woods, but it's pouring buckets up here, and it's not slated to stop until Sunday.

Please understand that the previous statement wasn't meant to be taken as a complaint, but merely as a statement of fact. Regular old rain is nothing--you won't hear me complain until the sky opens up and starts dropping cat poo or flavored cream of wheat. I really hate cream of wheat.

Last night, it was raining so hard that I was startled awake in a super confused stupor--which is more common than I care to admit these days. Last week for example, I startled myself awake when I became frustrated with our sticky deadbolt lock. Apparently I was on my way to check in on our elderly neighbors. Huh.

So last night, I woke up to the sound of the rain, I turned to Jared and said, "I hate big cats. If I ever see a mountain lion walking through our yard, I swear I'll kill it."

"No you wouldn't."

"Yes I would," I spat back. "I don't care if it's lying around licking its paws, I'll shoot it."

"No you wouldn't."

"Jared," I said, "If it could kill James, and it's in my yard, then I'm shooting it."

"What about a bear," he asked? "What would you do if a bear walked through our yard?"

"A bear," I repeated? "I'd probably tie a giant bow around its neck and hug it for an hour."

It was the middle of the night, it made perfect sense.

A Super Sweet Giveaway!

June 13, 2009

I don't do giveaways--mostly because I stink at going to the post office.

But guess what? I'm about to do a giveaway!

Based on the emails spilling out of my inbox this morning, there are many people in many parts of this country who love a good whoopie pie. As such, the winner of the giveaway will win not one, but two whoopie pies from the best whoopie pie bakery in the whole, wide world.

All you have to do is this: Leave a comment on this post that successfully incorporates four of the following words.

Hairy
Orange Juice
Piglet
Barbie Doll
Light Bulb
Beach House
Static

There's a two sentence maximum, my favorite comment wins (totally fair), and the contest ends Monday night at 8pm Eastern Standard Time.

Now go!

A Gentle Reminder for Jared

June 12, 2009

Happy Friday, everyone! It's been a pretty good week up here in our neck of the woods, but I can't lie, I'm still glad it's over. I'm tired these days, and kind of achy, too.

Every time I refer to the dull soreness in my back or my pelvis or my tail bone, my husband politely tells me to make an appointment and come down to his office, he can fit me in at 3 o'clock. I'm like, "Seriously Jared? I need to drive all the way to your office?! Can't you just make this go away over the phone with a handful of pixie dust and three snaps up?"

He's like, "No."

And I'm all, "Do you know how much we paid for your schooling?"

And typically, that's his cue to go fishing--where the woods are free of women and the animals don't talk.

Even though I only work part-time, and I sit on my can while I'm doing it, there's something about holding down a job, living on a $200-a-month grocery budget, being pregnant, and constantly negotiating with a 4-year-old that takes it right out of me.

If you don't believe me, you should see my house.

For selfish reasons alone, I'm still cooking and baking like a champ. But for another set of selfish reasons, I've completely given up all chores that involve squatting, bending, or lifting in any capacity.

Really, you should see my house.

Jared, bless his heart, couldn't seem to care less. Three times a week he comes home from an eleven hour day and when I hear the door open, I yell to him from my couch. I'm like, "Hi Jared! I love you! Try not to step in the gum on the dining room floor! And I'm sorry about that banana!"

And do you know what he does? Seriously, do you know how this man reacts??? He ignores the mess, asks me how my day was, and tells me I look beautiful.

So blessed. So so blessed. On a typical night my heart swells, I shake my head in disbelief, and I'm like, "Jared? Why are you so good to me?"

And he's all, "Because you're the only woman on this entire planet who I'm allowed to do it with. I really have to stay on your good side."

If nothing else he's honest. And the man's got a point, a completely valid point.

Very recently, Jared started working out of a second location which happens to be right across the street from a knock-your-socks off whoopie pie bakery. These particular whoopie pies were featured on Oprah's famous "Favorite Things" episode, and let me tell you, that's right where they belong.

In case you're not from around here, and unfamiliar with whoopie pies, allow me to explain: They're kind of like an Oreo, but they're made out of cake, they're the size of my [really big] head, and the filling is made out of little bits of saturated heaven cloud. They pack somewhere in the neighborhood of 1,000 calories a piece, and I love them.

They come in red velvet, and peanut butter chocolate, and original, and raspberry--and seriously, I love them. Can you tell?

Jared, bless his heart again, has yet to bring one of those big ol' beauties home for me.

So today honey, if you're reading this, I'd like to issue a gentle reminder that you are right--I am in fact the only women on this entire planet that you're allowed to get it on with.

Happy weekend, everyone!