Where do babies come from?

I am seriously neglecting this blog thing. Would it be fair to say that the holidays were busy and I just didn’t have a chance? In the years past, I had found myself saying, “I can’t wait for Christmas to be done and life getting back to normal.”  Well, this year I sit here and find myself in a much different situation. Life back to normal means, Rob is back in Detroit and I am back to my busy life of kids and work. I am so used to this life so I can manage, but I will be honest in saying…..I really miss Christmas.

I got to spend a lot of quality time with the kids this year over the break. Once we got past all the questions that is. We could have had much more time if I didn’t spend so much of the time answering all the damn questions.  A simple statement such as…..

“Hey guys lets go to the movies?” turned into half a day of questions such as……We are going to the movies? Why? What movie? What movie theater? Can we get popcorn? Can I have pop? What else are we going to do? Who’s going? Can I bring a friend? What other movies are playing? How much is this going to cost? You get the point!

As much as I hate the questions,  some leave me laughing for days. Like the statement that quickly turned into 50 questions. My daughter was in the tub the other day and out of the blue says….

“Mom, I don’t ever want to have babies.”

“Why is that sweetie?” I respond and begin thinking…shit what did I just get myself into.

She very collectively answers, “Well, because they have to cut your stomach open and I don’t want to mess up my stomach like yours and I don’t want to have stitches.”  

Now I can go on and let her think she is going to get mutilated, according to her, or explain that not all babies come that way. She will also need to be informed of where exactly the babies do come from. Knowing this is only going to lead to the 50 questions, I’m finding myself in quite the predicament at this point. I decide to go with, “Honey not all babies come out that way. Your brother didn’t get cut out of my belly.”

She screams, “Wait…what? Where did he come from? Your belly button? Your butt? Your mouth? Did aliens drop him off? Did a big bird bring him?”

I am snickering at this point and am scrambling for a simple explanation that is not too graphic for a 6 year old. “Well, um, ahh, um….They come out of a special place on your bottom that only girls have.”  Simple enough and no more questions right? WRONG! What was I thinking?

She comes back with, “So your butt?”

Laughing I say, “No dear not your butt.”

Then this came out of the mouth of my 6 year old, “Well you said bottom and my bottom is my butt. I am never touching my brother again because that is SO gross!”

I am beyond laughing at this point, basically crying and can hardly contain myself. I walk away and pray the conversation isn’t repeated any time soon. We are good as of now and no mention of babies and by the way, she has touched her brother!

Survey says.....

Survey Says….How old do you think you will be when you stop having sex? Just like the game show, well sort of, I am polling all of you to prove a point! If you know me, then you are well aware that when I think I’m right about something, I will go to extreme measures to prove my point.  This is one of those extreme measures. Just for the record, when I prove this friend wrong it will be a very glorious moment for me. I need this people!

To protect the identity of the friend and the family, some of this may be exaggerated or changed to make my case stronger, but mostly to hide “friends” identity!! Let me share the story….

Troy (friends’ new name) and I are having a drink at an establishment. Troy was telling me a story about (his/her) mom having a boyfriend. The story went like this….Mom, which is in her mid-60’s, has been “disappearing” for hours on end and her vehicle has been spotted in various parking lots around town. She has been divorced for a while, so it’s not a far stretch to know what she is doing every day. I mention to Troy my thoughts on the ordeal and to my shock (he/she) was completely in disagreement. Troy seemed to think that by the age 55 most people are done having sex. With complete shock and amazement that (he/she) could be so naive to think such nonsense, I decided to ask everyone sitting at bar. I will refrain from telling you what they all said, just so this poll isn’t weighted to one side. I now ask all of you who are reading this to comment either on the link or on the post. Tell me at what age do you think people stop having sex!

Dear Santa.....

Dear Santa~

I've been bad a few times this year, but it was worth it. I was hoping this confessional will get me off the naughty list!

Two weeks ago I was mocking the song “Santa Baby” I know it was completely offensive to you, but Santa…really, the song is so misleading! No woman beats down the door of a fat old man who is married and only works one day a year. I lied to my son last week about you…. Santa Claus: He knows when you are sleeping. He knows when you are awake. Sounds like Santa has Facebook. It’s ok though…he believed me! Oh yeah and the time I yelled, “If you have visions of Sugarplums, get the hell away from me.” Yeah, that probably wasn’t appropriate. I also may have been really mad at you last year when I asked for a million dollars and you brought me a candy cane. In all honesty, your generosity is completely exaggerated by most.

So now on to my list for the year….. All I want for Christmas is you. Just kidding! I want a new car or the million dollars you didn’t bring me last year.

Thanks Santa~

Chelle<3

Santa Clause has Facebook and I’m a hypocrite.

Tis the season…for the perpetual lies we have to tell our kids in order to maintain peace and harmony on Christmas. We as parents should feel like hypocrites. We're persistently are telling our kids not to lie, but we come up with some far fetched story about a fat guy in a red suit coming down the chimney or that reindeer fly. How about this line of crap I fed my kid tonight…..
“Mom, how does Santa know what I’m doing all the time?” my inquisitive 7 year old asks.
Thinking to myself…oh shit here we go again, I respond with, “Well, I call Santa and tell him.”
With a puzzled look on his face his next words were, “I have never heard you talk on the phone to Santa.”
Holding back laughter at this point I collectively say, “Well Santa has a Facebook and every night after you go to bed I IM him.”
Yeap that’s right folks…Santa Clause has Facebook and I’m a hypocrite.

More Kisses begin with beer:)

What is more likely to happen…do your best to imagine?

1^st scenario… You’re with prince charming (They do exist) and it’s the most romantic setting ever…so basically picture the setting of the last rose ceremony on The Bachelor…he gets down on one knee and promises you the world. He pulls out this enormous ring from Kay Jewelers.  He asks you to marry him. You accept and kiss him, but only because more kisses begin with Kay, oh and he just asked you to marry him! You both live happily ever after. Thank you Kay!!

2^nd scenario….You’re at home , the bar, or wherever you choose to imagine.....so basically picture what you do every weekend.  You are with the love of your life and you both have had a Miller Lite (My prince charmings request) or again, whichever you choose to imagine (I will take a glass of wine). You lean over to kiss him, but only because you love him. When you tell him you love him you mean it with your entire heart. It's a romantic moment because you both can feel the connection and chemistry that you both share and those words mean more to you than anything in this world. There is no Kay involved.

Which is more likely to happen? That’s what I thought……hence the statement,  I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet, on any given Friday or Saturday night, more kisses begin with Miller Light than with Kay jewelry.

2 blog or not 2 blog..that was the question!!

Welcome to 2011Rachelle…blogging is such old news! While I have been busy raising 3 kids and working my ass off, apparently I missed the memo. Why waste such useless knowledge or “My two cents” on tiny Facebook posts, when I can share the whole story.  For those of you who have loved reading the tad bits of information I bestow upon you daily, now you can have a little more.  Almost every single post is a smart ass quote about something that happened in my day. For example…. I feel like a rock star when I beat the "Estimated Arrival Time" my GPS gives me.  This was my quote from today and the story behind this was…..I hate driving., more than any normal person should hate it. I am convinced that every slow person who was afraid of rain was on the road today. My GPS said 2 hours 54 minutes to home. I was convinced that I could do this trip in 2 hours 20 minutes, but then the slow rain people happened, oh and the sudden let’s fix the road on a Sunday afternoon in the rain happened. With 3 cranky kids in tow, this mama wasn’t stopping even for a potty break. I just wanted to get home. At exactly 2 hours 34 minutes I pulled into the driveway and I felt like a fricken rock star! I beat the GPS after being stuck in traffic!