We're Official. I just updated my Facebook status.

As I was sitting in my cubicle at work I heard some of my coworkers talking. I wasn’t really paying attention until one of them said “Hey do you want to take a look at the picture on my phone?” I thought that it might be a cute picture of one of her cats since we both loved kitties. I said “Sure, why not?” As she clicked to the picture, I got a glimpse of a man proudly showing off his junk for the camera.
Boy, has dating changed since I dated almost 14 years ago. Forget getting to know someone. Evidently, now a days a good way to see if a girl wants to date you is to send her a picture of your junk via text. If she likes what she sees you just scored yourself a date.
You want to meet a man or a woman go to a dating website don’t try to pick someone up at a bar or grocery store. That is so last decade. I remember back in the day when me and Mr. P were dating. That was almost 14 long years ago. The consensus about dating sites was they were for socially awkward people who couldn’t talk to someone in person. But that was before technology really took over our everyday life. You’re over 50 there’s a sight for you. Looking for a specific religion there’s another site for you. The possibility is endless. Why get to know someone and reject them after a few dates because of how they chew their food. You can reject them right away if you hate Bojovi and they list that as one of their favorite bands.
I recently read about someone going on Twitter after their date and giving a play by play of all of the bad qualities of her date. Needless to say the guy found out and there wasn’t a second date. And the tweeting just doesn’t stop there. Remember when wedding proposals were private between the 2 people that would be getting married. Now it is only a secret wedding proposal if the bride or groom to be knows nothing about. At the same time all of your followers on Twitter know the big question is coming. How romantic to tweet about it as it is happening. Getting married. Take your phone to the alter and update your Facebook status after you are married. Hell, why not update your status as you are walking down the aisle. I’ve seen some people do this. Because you aren’t truly married until you update your Facebook status to “married.”
Don’t get me wrong. Technology is great. It saved my little micro HP. But, please oh please let my husband die after me. Because, between the junk shots, constant tweeting and Facebook updates I don’t know if I could survive dating 21st century style.

My Addiction

Last night I had a bad dream. The vending machine in the cafeteria at work was sold out of #42s. I have visited this machine so many times that I have memorized the number where my chocolate goodies reside. Number 42 peanut M & Ms. Those yellow bags of goodness help me make it through my workday. I work in Human Resources if that explains anything.
On really bad workdays I have to buy 2 bags but hope knows one notices. Some days I hide the second bag as I leave the room. Other days I hope that they think the other bag is for a co-worker. Because no one buys 2 bags at the same time from the vending machine.
Damn you vending machine man when you like to mix it up and put plain M & Ms in a spot reserved for my precious peanuts. The disappointment is deep. Why couldn’t you have started a second row for the plain M & Ms I didn’t notice the Whatchamacallits disappearing quickly and those Honey Buns sure have stuck around for a long time. I guess I’ll just have to buy the regular M & Ms. And yes I will eat them even though I don’t like them.

The Begining of my La Vida Loca

"Whoever you are stop whatever you are doing right now."  It had come to this.

You have one child.  You hear something breaking and you know who the culprit is.  Add a second child and things get a little bit tricky.  Add yet another child, three cats and a Bassett hound and someone is either breaking something, vomiting on something or just doing something they shouldn't be doing at all waking hours.  Probability is working against you in this situation.

Growing up, I never really thought about having kids.  Sure, I had baby dolls; Cabbage Patch kids the whole gambit.  Hell, I even use to dress up my dog in baby clothes and make him eat while sitting in a toy high chair.  Max was such a good dog.  Even when Mr. P and I were dating the subject of kids never really came up.  It wasn't that I didn't have any maternal genes.  I didn't kill houseplants.  All of my cats were fed, accounted for and healthy.  I just never really thought about it.

Then the big 3O was fast approaching and we decided that if we were going to have a baby it was time to get this party started.  Eventually I became pregnant with my daughter A.  She just kind of fell comfortably into our life.  She was independent, not very high maintenance for a baby.  Sure you had to change her diaper, feed and water her but besides that she wasn't very clingy. 

While heavily pregnant with A I had professed to my husband that I was only having one baby and it was for him.  Sheepishly after my daughter's first doctor's appointment I had to admit that I had drunk the Kool-Aid and wanted another child.

Fast forward to about a year and a half and I was pregnant with the GMan.  I was so pregnant I was rolling off the couch just to get off the furniture.  I was crabby, moody the biggest bitch around.  We can see where this is going.  No more babies again I profess.  Then they cut me open and pull out little GMan and the hormones and pain killers turn me into a pod person.    I bond to him really quickly.  This is unusual for me because I am not a baby person.  I would rather deal with a toddler that has just flushed my keys down the toilet then a helpless baby.  As we are leaving the hospital I tell my husband that we should think about having another baby.  He looks at me like dog who is trying to understand what their human master is saying. You know the tilted head, the eyes that squint   He says maybe we should think about this for a while. 

It took about a year to convince Mr. P.   But we eventually decided to throw our hat in the ring and try for one more baby.  I had made the joke that because A and the GMan were so big almost 9 pounds that they next baby would definitely top that.  Boy was I wrong.    After an eventful and stressful pregnancy that ended about 2 and a half months early little micro HP came into our world.  He weighed a little over a pound and couldn't even fit into a preemie onesie.  To say we where thrown into different world was an understatement.  You forget how to do the simplest things that you have become a pro at after having two kids.  I can remember trying to change his diaper while he was in the bed in the NICU.  My brain would not function.  It was almost like I was trying to diaper a doll.

My life is busy, noisy and hectic.  I can't imagine my children absent from my life.  I would rather live this la vida loca they any other life then I can imagine.  

Holy DSL

If my 5 year old knew what a confession was she would have one.  She curses in private.  A the first of the stair steps likes to act like she is a good girl.  Stereotypical first child.  Doing what mom and dad says.  Being nice to her siblings human and furry.  Our go to girl when our la Vida Loca gets a little bit harried.

Her mom knows how to curse with the best of them.  If it was an Olympic sport I could sweep up a gold medal or two.  If we needed to fund a fabulous vacation to a tropical faraway place in a short amount of time, the curse jar would be the perfect solution.  To make a long story short, I curse creatively and often.  Sometimes there is no other way to make your point except by the addition of a few creatively chosen curse words.

The second of the steps the G Man takes after his mama.  Some of his hits include "What the hell" and the continuation of the family tradition of dropping the "F" bomb.  The G Man will be my child most likely to be a roaster at a Comedy Central Roast if he keeps his track record up.

A got a new Little Pony for a gift and thought that it was funny to place a piece of the black packaging over the figure's mouth.  She did this to imitate what they use to do on t.v. to censor swearing.  Remember the black bar.  A has curse words she makes up now.  Holy DSL is one that is on heavy rotation.

But A doesn't curse.  No, not our A.  She acts like cursing is wrong.  She likes to let us know when the G Man lets loose “I know it is wrong and I won't do that like the G Man" said in her most sincere voice.

But most kids lie a little.  Or fiddle around with the truth a little bit.