T.M.I. But That’s Why You Love Me

Warning: T.M.I.I went to get a spray tan.

I wore a thong so I wouldn’t be completely nekk’ed in front of the lady spraying me. I’m modest. 😂

I wear a sundress so it doesn’t mess up my “tan.”

I come home and go in my bedroom to take off the permanent wedgie, the thong.

But first, I walk through my bedroom with the sundresses hiked up and snap that torture devise out of my bottom with tremendous relief.

Just as I turned the corner to walk around the bed and look ahead into my window I see one of the painter men on a ladder watching me.

I thought they were done with our bedroom windows. 

Now I have to get one of those bank tube things to send them the check when they are done so I never have to look or talk to them again.

Happy Friday!

Abbie Gale 

AllThatMakesYou.com

Awkward! What do I do Now?

What do I do?

What do I do when I look on my phone and see I have a message.

I open the message.

It reads, “It took me forever to get the courage up to send this.”

There is a picture attached.

I open the picture and its a picture of boobies!

Mom boobies, like mine. I mean, they are NOT mine but they are by no means “dirty picture boobies.” They might be a picture for a husband out-of-town and it could be as innocent as “holy cow look at my tan lines” photo. It could be a “before” photo, as in before a little touch up with a plastic surgeon.

I don’t know why someone takes a picture of themselves naked. I don’t care if you do.

This does not change the fact that I just got a naked topless picture of a mom I know from my boys school.

A pair of boobies staring at me that I find myself studying and concluding that those are indeed her boobies.

Holy-Mother-of-God. What do I do?

Do I reply?

I get butt called and butt texted all the time. This is a byproduct of having a name that starts with “ABB”

I am a librarians dream.

Once she realizes she accidentally “sexted” me will she kill herself before school starts because she has to see me everyday.

I don’t want her to be uncomfortable. I have all sorts of wacky pictures on my phone. I don’t have MY boobies but I have other people’s boobies. I have pics of toilet stalls, dead mice in pool basket, husband spooning dog thinking its me…

Should I send her a naked photo of some of my anatomy so we are even? No harm, no foul.

Do I just send her a, Thank you?”

Do I just send her a, “Thank you but I like boys?”

Do I call the son and tell him, “Shame on you!”

Do I forward it to her husband and tell him I think if was intended for him?

These are the kind of pictures I send my husband. I sent this picture a couple of weeks ago. I wanted this puppy. I lost all sense of reason. I went to the mall to buy Chinese soup spoons and I am trying to leave with a Havanese puppy? Maybe he would have said yes if I showed him my boobies.

Do I play stupid and let it ride and always wonder if she quit speaking to me because of it?

After attending BlogHer last week and wondering where I fit into this whole “webosphere” God sent me a clear sign where I belong. I must keep blogging and telling these stories. He sent me Mrs ______ boobie picture so I could make you laugh.

I think God wants me to continue on.

What do you think I should do and do you have a story like this?

 

-Abbie, allthatmakesyou.com

 

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The Trouble With Trends

I will only let our son wear “this” at home and when no one else is around.

The trouble with trends is they come back.  They are cyclical.  A swing of a pendulum and we go from neons to pastels and from pointy high heels to round toe ballet shoes.

Or a trend can come back because an eight year-old boys saw a picture of a guy with a ponytail and he thought he looked tough.

Peter brought this tassel he found in a drawer and asked me to stick it to his head with one of my “things.”  When I asked him what he meant he held it to the nape of his neck and said,

“Here, like the way some boys have.”

I deserve this after I put my hair “feathers” onto unsuspecting people at a concert, (and then took a picture.)

Are there “good taste” camps that I can send my boys off to?

I think a camp that teaches our kids good taste such as…

– Watching Sponge Bob will ruin any future ability you may have to create anything of beauty.

– Listening to Niki Minage may possibly cause your ears to not be able to distinguish between a cat dying, a jack hammer, or actual singing.

– Crazy hair will only cause you to have 5 years of your life being unable to prove due to picture frames spontaneously combusting upon having to hold that ugly a$$ photo of you from 1989.

– “That song” you think will define your summer and generation will actually be just another summer song that the record producers release with planned calculations and you were simply putty in the radio stations hands.

– That you shouldn’t take any new trend too far or invest in it too heavily, (ehhhem…tattoos) because most things go terribly out of style the stronger that they were in style.

I guess I will just let my boys be who they are and try silly things when they are kids, even if it is wearing curtain trim in your hair.

I shaved the left side of my head in seventh grade.  I looked like Richard Simmons after being hazed at a fraternity house.

I try my best to teach our boys to be who they are and march to their own drum.

I have been repeating this quote a lot lately with twin twelve year-olds…

“Be Who You Are and Say What You Feel Because 
Those Who Mind Don’t Matter 
and Those Who Matter Don’t Mind.”
– Dr. Seuss

So here I am housebound until my child who thinks he is Antonio Banderas moves onto something else he thinks makes him cool.  😉

Thanks for letting me share with you and I hope I made you smile, laugh, think, love, cry or cry laughing.

-Abbie, allthatmakesyou.com

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Neighbor Kids and My Unfortunate Full Monty Moment

I am the one female in our house. The one female with zero privacy. The zero privacy has not really been a big deal because I have the attitude that we all have bodies. I have the same parts as the next girl. I don’t want to be so private that my boys become “Peeping Toms” to figure out why girls shirts are lumpy.

I have a line though.

No one, not even my husband comes in while I am “shining my belly button.” I use the room where they all go number one and number two, but I am in there having private, quiet time. Girls don’t poop. They tinkle and our belly buttons require shining. This is all a very complicated lie because I don’t want my husband to think of me “releasing hostages,” as my boys call it.

When I had kids I began locking the door. It worked for a little while. When our older boys started crawling they would just sit up against the door and cry. When they got older they pounded on the door. Then when they could walk and talk and jimmy a door they would yell, “MooooooooMMMMMMMM!!!!!”

I would answer back, “I am in the powder room.”

They would then try and open it and I would say, “It is locked.”

And they would sweetly say, “Oh, I will get it.” and then they would pop the lock and come right in.

It has never occurred to them that I locked it to keep them out. It was always as if they were doing me a favor picking the lock so I wouldn’t have to get up and open it.

So I hid all of the shish kabob skewers!

Ha! I will show them.

If you come to my house and you notice a little rattle in the door knobs when you turn them, it’s just dried spaghetti noodles.

Peter is a resourceful boy and at 18 months old he could pop a lock in no time. When I took away the shish kabob skewers to give everyone some much needed….ehhhemmm…PRIVACY, he found the box of spaghetti noodles. They do not work well to open locked door.

He can’t open doors anymore (so I won), but our door handles are the big losers because they are filled with Peter’s foiled attempts at rudeness.

This leads me to several years later on a hot summers day and another…

“ONLY ABBIE HAS THESE EMBARRASSING THINGS HAPPEN TO HER STORIES”

It is mid morning and after doing my housework I announced I was going in to take a shower. I left the boys with their buddies in the driveway playing squirt gun wars.

I am all lathered up and facing the shower head with my eyes closed.

I turn around to rinse my hair and open my eyes to find…

all three of my boys and all of the neighbor boys standing there, in a line.

The door was locked! I know I locked it!

Remember, I do not lock it for them they think, despite years of explaining that mom needs private time. They just unlocked it while I had my back to the door.

We have a large shower with clear glass walls.

There is nowhere to hide.

“Can we have a Popsicle?”

They are all just looking at me.

“Out! Yes, and GET OUT!”

They all just turn around and walk out like, no biggie.

I am thinking I have to call their moms and tell them they saw me naked as a jay bird. I am thinking this is just a naked body. But it wasn’t…

I had to call the moms and tell them what their boys saw.

I knew I was going to have to explain that I watched a stupid Oprah show and got a Brazillian bikini wax to get ready for bathing suit season. As if having a Brazilian bikini wax wasn’t traumatizing enough!

Why? Why? Why is this always my timing with embarrassing moments? It couldn’t just be embarrassing enough for the neighborhood to see me full frontal naked I would also send an entire generation of boys into their teen years thinking their girlfriends are freaks because they have hair…”there.”

Abbie, All that makes you… allthatmakesyou.com

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“Only to me…”

Botox is Really a Marriage Saving Device

Ok, folks.  I have another a confession.

I have visited the Botox fairy a few times, (he is a friend who serves wine on his couch.)  He has been good to me.  More importantly, He has been good for my marriage and my personal relationships with anyone I have to deal with face to face.

If the Mayans are wrong, I will turn forty on “12.21.12.”  I am getting a lot of slack from friends accusing me of staging this whole “Mayan-End-Of-The-World-Thing” so I can be thirty-nine FOR-EV-ER.  It seemed like all my girlfriends were trying the Botox and all of my (pretend) girlfriends on TV had been doing it for years and so I said…

“Sign me up!  All these woman are making me look old!”

The first time “I did it” I didn’t tell my husband, Jim.  I wanted to see if he noticed.  He didn’t but hilariously found a moment to go on a tangent to our boys about how good I look and that “I don’t need any kind of assistance” when they asked why some women on TV look shellacked.  I was dunking and laughing around the corner.  How do you tell him after that?

I don’t think it altered my looks that much.  For me, I am a face maker as I am pretty animated, it is probably just keeping deep grooves from forming between my eyebrows.

Here is what I learned though.

People don’t need Botox for wrinkles.  The real reason why all women should be getting Botox?

Because you cannot make the, “You are such a dumb a$$ face!”

Your husband will instantly think you love him more.

I also cannot figure out why Botox is not being marketed to people with these tag lines…

“Get Botox and make your husband feel like a genius!”

“Botox makes everyone wonder what your secret to happiness is.”

Botox is really missing the mark here.  There is an entire market of people that they haven’t even tapped into.

Even those suffering from mental health issues could benefit from a little Botox love.

“Suddenly, people find me more approachable!”

“It makes the voices in my head stop making the poop face.”

“Why are you looking at me?!!!  Is it because you think I’m pretty?  Do you think I am pretty?”

If this stay-at-home-mom thing doesn’t work out I am sooo going into marketing.

Have you tried any procedures to make yourself feel refreshed or younger?  Would you?  Are you more of an “age gracefully” kind of person?

If you have had Botox, did it go well?  Did you have any problems?  I ended up with a black eye once because I took ibuprofen before the injections for a tooth ache.   I looked so cute with my black eye.

No other mammas gave me any lip at the bus stop.  I looked so tough with my black eye and scary emotionless face.  Yet another benefit of the Botox.

Abbie, All that makes you… at allthatmakesyou.com 

Even spicy buffalo sauce, coffee flavored beer and Nevada excitement did not cause a forehead wrinkle!  I don’t look a bit crazy, do I?

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