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. ūüėā

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

The Bethenny Frankel Show Called Me!!!

I have to share this super exciting thing that happened about a week ago. I share this because I realize this is probably as far as my very exciting story is going to go. As usual, my frontal lobe is defective and I ramble things off that perhaps I shouldn’t, even to television producers!

As some of my regular readers know I have been busy updating all three of our boys rooms. I had the phone practically in my hand for about a week straight talking to carpet people, painters, and furniture salesperson. I kept measuring and they kept calling me back with info and prices and since nearly all of these contacts were local I was shocked when, while the phone was in my hand, the caller ID said…

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA!!!!

Who calls me from Los Angeles, California? I might get Temecula or some other former goat town in California but Los Angeles proper?

I answer, “Hello.”

Pleasant young woman, “May I speak to Abbie… Ssss….how do you pronounce the last name?”

I chuckle and say, “It is just as it looks.” and then I say my married last name and then I say, “I tried to get my husband to take my last name when we got married. It would have been so much easier, _______. It even rhymes, Jim _______.”

Nice lady on the phone chuckles now.

Who am I talking to I wonder? This is the kindest bill collector I have ever spoken with. I’m kidding!

She says, “This is _____ from the Bethenny Frankel Talk Show.”

I have instant heart palpitations. Spontaneous combustion is occurring from my ears up and my kids are erupting into what I can tell already is going to morph into World War III in the kitchen below me.

I move into a spare bathroom on the second floor in hopes she cannot hear my boys and in hopes my boys don’t find me.

I am going to sound cool, sound cool. Bethenny, in my world and my head is AMAZING. I get her. We had similar childhoods. I understand her abrasive, at times, personality and I know that it comes from having to be her own parent and knowing how to “talk like a man.” I get her need to show people she is worth something and has value and her desire to have a family of her own, to do it right. I understand her drive and let me try to say this without sounding nuts, (like I would think anyone else saying this about someone they have never MET) I think she is all that with a side of chips.

When hearing about Bethenny’s new talk show I checked it out online and they were advertising an upcoming show about friendship. They were asking people to submit a letter about any friendship their viewers may have had that was special.

I had just posted my story “Two Broke(n) Girls.” It was perfect timing and so I forwarded it on. The best part, they are going to choose two friends to fly out and be on the show.

Did I think I was going to get chosen?

Of course!

The same way people fantasize about winning the lottery, I am fantasizing about my girlfriend and I running away to CAL-i-forn-“I”-“A” to meet Bethenny Frankel! Heck, I think ALL of my neighborhood girlfriend peeps would fly out for that!

Is she calling to tell me we won?!!!!

My hands are shaking!

She says, “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

Me, “Yeah. Sure. No problem.” This was said in a much slower and lower tone than my voice really is. Do I always sound like a pot head when I am trying to NOT sound like me?

“Are you married?”

Me, “Yes.”

“Do you have children?”

Me, “Yes, three boys.”

“Oh…how old are they?”

Me, “7, 12, 12.”

“Oh, uh..”

Me, “We have twins. They are the ones that are 12.”

What is wrong with me?!!! Really, I had to explain that the 12 year-olds are the twins and not the 7 year-old and one of the 12 year-olds? I am so distracted by the sounds of my boys screaming, “Mom told you not to give me Charlie horse! I’m telling!”

She asks, “And how old are you?

I tell her my age.

I am now running down the back stairs while I hear my three boys running up the front stairs and fighting like a giant “Fight Club” tumbleweed every step.

I am in a pair of boxer shorts and a tank top with no bra, a very thin tank top.

She asks, “And your husband’s age?”

I answer with his age (I am not telling you and you will find out why in a moment.)

I am now running through our garage towards the driveway.

She says, “Awwww, that is so cute. You and your husband are the same age.”

I am now running down my driveway, but really bouncing, in broad daylight, while I hear my boys who were “against” each other have now turned on me.

I hear the boys screaming things like, “WHERE ARE YOU MOM?!”

Another yells, “I see her! She is outside on her stupid phone, walking down the street.”

Here they all come out of the garage and after me…

I say to the nice girl who works for Bethenny Frankel, “Oh yes, not only are we the same age we are born the same week AND with baby Jesus’s birthday right between us.”

WTF did I just say? What DID I just say?

I am fully prepared to run onto the golf cart path, barefoot, and with my cell phone, sans bra, and with my husbands underwear on as I realize this is a once in a lifetime chance for…I don’t even know what yet.

She is now laughing instead of chuckling. Thank God.

I am thinking, she doesn’t know me and my sense of humor. You can’t say things like that to someone you don’t REALLY know. What if she is Jewish? What does that have to do with anything? What if she thinks I am a religious freak and I really use the term, “baby Jesus” regularly in my speech?

She says, “Have you read “Fifty Shades of Grey?”

When I submitted the “Two Broke(n) Girls”¬†story they were also chatting on Bethenny’s new site about “Fifty Shades of Grey” and how it has changed their reader’s sex life. I, the ever-present smart ass, replies with my post I had also just written that week called, “Poor Husbands and their Wives‚Äô Naughty Books.”

They weren’t calling about my¬†“Two Broke(n) Girls”¬†story?

I answer, “NOOO! I can’t read it because my dad will read it first on his Kindle and then he will want to have a book club discussion and I am not discussing a mom porn book with my dad and I cannot borrow a girlfriends hard copy because, well… I don’t know where it has been and what if a page is sticky? My mind would make it into something worse when it was probably just candy hands. Frankly, I feel like I have already read the book since all my naughty girlfriends are giving me the “blow-by-blow” of the three books…”

That is how I talk. Commas do not enter into my speech and my frontal lobe, which is supposed to filter what we say, has apparently completely stopped working.

She is chuckling again, “Yeah, I just wanted to call and see if you had read it yet.”

I say, “Crap, I was hoping you were calling about my post about friendship and the reference letter I wrote to my BFF’s new neighbors when they meet her and decide they hate her at first, (like I did) and why they should give her a second chance. It is honestly funnier than my “Fifty Shades of Grey” post.”

Did I just try to give someone advice on what to put on their talk show? Did I just hint that my “Grey” post wasn’t good?

OH-MY-WORD! What if I get invited to be on a show about the “naughty book?” If I don’t get banned from my kids southern schools for my post about the gay marriage vote in my home state of North Carolina I will FO SHO get shunned if I go on a talk show about a sex and bondage book.

Sign me up as I am sure this means they won’t ask me to come in and be a “scissor mom” or count “Box Tops” for the school PTO after that!

We talked for a few more minutes while I continued to ignore my kids chasing me down the street shouting things like, “ARE YOU TELLING DAD ON US?!” and, “WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?!” and, “YOU SAID YOU WOULD GROUND HIM IF HE PUNCHED ME IN THE SHOULDER AGAIN!” and, “I WANNA TALK TO DAD!”

She told me she, “liked my energy” and I continued to try to act cool, like talk shows call me regularly. I may have said my group of girlfriends were, “The Real Housewives of North Carolina.”

Yep, I did and collectively between that and the other things that slipped past my lips and the three screaming banshees that followed me everywhere, I realize I will probably never hear from that nice girl again.

I have had so much fun telling my girlfriends the story that it is (ALMOST) just as good.

Follow me or start hammer tweeting (here) Bethenny Frankel or post on her FaceBook wall (here) or comment (here) on Pinterest, (I will send you an invitation if you aren’t on even he, he) to give Abbie at “All that makes you…” a second chance because surely I have enough stories for my own show. I have “dirty” school noodle art.

Oooooo…Bethenny could bring in that British Nanny to make my kids stop calling my phone and computer and blog “STUPID.” I think a shock collar and remote I keep in my pocket would work. They say “stupid” and I say PAVLOV’S DOGS! For Pete’s sake people I am kidding! I just did it again! I just told the “Nanny Show” how to do their job.

-Abbie, and I hope we can share all that makes you smile, laugh, think, love, cry and cry laughing. allthatmakesyou.com

http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/bethenny-frankel-prefers-good-conversation-celebrities-talk-show-article-1.1092336?localLinksEnabled=false

Our Most Embarrassing School Art, To Date Anyway

I am running a few of my favorite stories this week. ¬†I will be back soon with new stories, that is if I don’t end up in jail in NYC. ¬†My boys said they won’t miss me much when I am gone since I make them unload the dishwasher. ¬†I reminded them that I wash and load the dishes and so they will have to load as well while I am away. ¬†

Anyone willing to bail my naked ass out of jail? ¬†I know I will be naked because with two drinks and I am drunk and three…NAKED and jail seems like the logical progression for four. ¬†I hear the girls at BlogHer like to party at the conferences, crap. ¬†

Your dad is a BONE doctor!  How can you NOT know there is NOT a bone in it?

I don’t know. ¬†They are sweet. ¬†They are cute boys. ¬†They win classroom awards like,¬†“Most Conscientious”. ¬†These are the only reasons I can think of that the teachers don’t call me when my boys do a project in school and they...just look at the picture.

There are reasons I am not a¬†PTO¬†mom, or a scissor mom, (the ones that come to school to cut things out). ¬†The reasons are because my kids think its funny to make a¬†pasta¬†skeleton and put¬†macaroni testicles¬†and¬†rotinini pee-pee¬†and¬†spaghetti¬†BONE?¬†¬†I asked what the spaghetti was and he said, “That’s the bone in the pee-pee“.

I know I clearly have more to worry about, judging from this picture, but….

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD WE HAVE STANDARDS.

YOU DAD IS A BONE DOCTOR!

HOW CAN YOU NOT KNOW THERE ARE NO BONES IN YOUR PEE-PEE?

I take a few deep breaths. ¬†I put it into perspective. ¬†There are three¬†types of pasta¬†that makes up the noodle guys junk (oh and we know it’s a noodle GUY, right)¬†¬†but the dude has no feet.

For all of you with girls I want to remind you that little boys are different. ¬†For little boys, that area is a toy that stays with you. ¬†To quote one of my kids when they were three, “When can I get one of these BALLS out so I can see what they look like?” ¬†Your daughter is putting shoes on her Barbie’s feet right now and¬†I have an anatomically (in)correct foot-less pasta dude on my fridge.

-Abbie, All that makes you smile, laugh, think, love, cry, and hopefully cry laughing.

allthatmakesyou.com

Ellie Mae Takes on NYC

Update!  I am going!  That is, I am going to BlogHer 12 in New York City!

Well, I just booked the trip to BlogHer 2012 and I just realized I have NOTHING prepared!

Do people still carry business cards?  Will people look at what is on my laptop, over my shoulder, while I am in a meeting?  Do they too have pictures of their husband (accidentally) spooning your dog while sleeping and photos of bathroom stalls with abnormally low walls, (what is the point?)  Will I look like a doofus if I drag around a PAPER notebook?

How do I get rid of this giant zit in the middle of my forehead that looks like a “start” button before I fly out? ¬†Will they refuse me entrance onto the plane for fear I have a communicable disease? ¬†Do I need a note from my dermatologist saying I am not contagious but you probably shouldn’t stare at it too closely?

Do I just draw “Start” above Pablo, (I named it Pablo-the-Pimple) and it could be “my thing” like The Bloggess with her rollers or¬†The Bearded Iris with her beard? ¬†Damn you iPhoto for making it so easy to “disappear” my pimples that I get disappointed when I look in an actual mirror!

¬†I am too stinkin’ excited, especially considering a week ago I wasn’t going! ¬†

To add to the excitement, don’t tell anyone because I cannot believe it myself with as much as I have traveled and it makes me feel a bit like Ellie Mae Clampett but…

I HAVE NEVER BEEN TO NYC???!!!

With that said, if you see me wandering around NYC aimlessly, do me a favor and yell, “MOM!!!!!! ¬†We’re hungry! He broke my Lego Star Wars ship! ¬†I can’t poop! ¬†I can’t stop pooping! ¬†Come and see my cool corn poop!” ¬†That way I don’t get homesick.

Also if you see me, please introduce yourself in case I don’t recognize you because you look SO MUCH better in person!

If you never hear from me again it is because I ran away from home and joined the circus as…

“The Woman With a Unicorn Horn”

Remember my story about “Unicorn Horn or Extra Finger?”

I so should have chosen the unicorn horn.

At least it would have covered the Pablo-the-Pimple.

-Abbie, allthatmakesyou.com

Follow us for…

All that makes you smile, laugh, think, love, cry or cry laughing.

When Did I Lose Faith in Myself?

I worked in corporate America until I was put on bed rest with my twins, now twelve.

Companies would send their private jets to a little airstrip, by my home, and I would fly up to a factory and be back home in time for dinner.  I was young and feisty and I could keep a project together from idea to market.  I could negotiate a price and delivery date from China to the eventual chain of outdoor stores or military base.

I was on a product development team for a major boot company.  I was a woman in a business of men.  When passed a cigar to enjoy, I did.  I was comfortable there.

In college I worked in a steel mill running a blowtorch and assisting the crane operator. ¬†I don’t remember another woman who worked there, but I know they did in the offices. ¬†I weighed about 100 pounds and I wore three layers of flame retardant clothing, steel toe boots, safety glasses and a hard hat. ¬†I fit in there.

I started blogging February 29th of this year.

I recently started calling myself a blogger.

I AM a blogger.

Bloggers need to go to conferences.  They need to meet others that proudly say they are bloggers.  They need to network and meet with publishers and find out how to monetize and find their people.  I need to find my peeps.

BlogHer ’12 is in New York City August 2-4.

I have looked at plane tickets.  I talked about going to the conference to my husband.  He has told me it would be awesome for me to go and encouraged me to do so.

I have no excuse not to go to BlogHer ’12, but I cannot get myself to do it.

Why?

The idea of going to a meeting full of women terrifies me.

Please don’t chastise me.¬† I know this is a counterproductive statement for women.

Hear me out on this.  I have always had a little secret motto in my head that goes like this…

‚ÄúIf a man can do it, I am sure I can.‚ÄĚ

Women, for most of my life, have been harder to gel with.  I have girlfriends, but most of them would probably also get along with guys better than girls.

Where is that Abbie that would stomp around a factory floor asking the foreman questions?  Where is that Abbie that hopped on a plane and negotiated the price of thousands of sides of leather?  Have I gotten soft since having kids and no longer have an edge or a belief in myself?

If a man can walk into a conference full of women, why can’t I?

I feel stuck in limbo.  I am stuck between the person in the workplace full of men and the reality of my life now as a mom raising three little men.

BlogHer announced a contest today.  They are giving goodie bags to people who are NOT going to BlogHer ’12.  I wrote this to enter into the contest.  I was writing this post in my head though before I even knew about the conference.

Here I am on BlogHer

I have been thinking that if by chance I were to be chosen for a goodie bag I would like to request, rather rudely, that I would much rather go to the conference.

But I need a mentor. 

I would much rather see BlogHer run a contest granting one newbie the chance to shadow a BlogHer team member, DURING BLOGHER.

We would be instant chums.  She would tell me she appreciates my brass ba!!s when it comes to what I want to post and yet understands why I spell inappropriate words with symbols.  She would give me the inside scoop on how things really work and tell me plainly what I am doing wrong and how I can improve. She would share my fondness of vodka and love of desserts.  She would tell me there is a place for me and that I am not like everyone else that calls herself a blogger.  She would offer me a cigar.

-Abbie, All that makes you smile, laugh, think, love, cry or cry laughing.

allthatmakesyou.com

The Bethenny Frankel Show Called Me!!!

I have to share this super exciting thing that happened about a week ago. I share this because I realize this is probably as far as my very exciting story is going to go. As usual, my frontal lobe is defective and I ramble things off that perhaps I shouldn’t, even to television producers!

As some of my regular readers know I have been busy updating all three of our boys rooms. I had the phone practically in my hand for about a week straight talking to carpet people, painters, and furniture salesperson. I kept measuring and they kept calling me back with info and prices and since nearly all of these contacts were local I was shocked when, while the phone was in my hand, the caller ID said…

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA!!!!

Who calls me from Los Angeles, California? I might get Temecula or some other former goat town in California but Los Angeles proper?

I answer, “Hello.”

Pleasant young woman, “May I speak to Abbie… Ssss….how do you pronounce the last name?”

I chuckle and say, “It is just as it looks.” and then I say my married last name and then I say, “I tried to get my husband to take my last name when we got married. It would have been so much easier, _______. It even rhymes, Jim _______.”

Nice lady on the phone chuckles now.

Who am I talking to I wonder? This is the kindest bill collector I have ever spoken with. I’m kidding!

She says, “This is _____ from the Bethenny Frankel Talk Show.”

I have instant heart palpitations. Spontaneous combustion is occurring from my ears up and my kids are erupting into what I can tell already is going to morph into World War III in the kitchen below me.

I move into a spare bathroom on the second floor in hopes she cannot hear my boys and in hopes my boys don’t find me.

I am going to sound cool, sound cool. Bethenny, in my world and my head is AMAZING. I get her. We had similar childhoods. I understand her abrasive, at times, personality and I know that it comes from having to be her own parent and knowing how to “talk like a man.” I get her need to show people she is worth something and has value and her desire to have a family of her own, to do it right. I understand her drive and let me try to say this without sounding nuts, (like I would think anyone else saying this about someone they have never MET) I think she is all that with a side of chips.

When hearing about Bethenny’s new talk show I checked it out online and they were advertising an upcoming show about friendship. They were asking people to submit a letter about any friendship their viewers may have had that was special.

I had just posted my story “Two Broke(n) Girls.” It was perfect timing and so I forwarded it on. The best part, they are going to choose two friends to fly out and be on the show.

Did I think I was going to get chosen?

Of course!

The same way people fantasize about winning the lottery, I am fantasizing about my girlfriend and I running away to CAL-i-forn-“I”-“A” to meet Bethenny Frankel! Heck, I think ALL of my neighborhood girlfriend peeps would fly out for that!

Is she calling to tell me we won?!!!!

My hands are shaking!

She says, “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

Me, “Yeah. Sure. No problem.” This was said in a much slower and lower tone than my voice really is. Do I always sound like a pot head when I am trying to NOT sound like me?

“Are you married?”

Me, “Yes.”

“Do you have children?”

Me, “Yes, three boys.”

“Oh…how old are they?”

Me, “7, 12, 12.”

“Oh, uh..”

Me, “We have twins. They are the ones that are 12.”

What is wrong with me?!!! Really, I had to explain that the 12 year-olds are the twins and not the 7 year-old and one of the 12 year-olds? I am so distracted by the sounds of my boys screaming, “Mom told you not to give me Charlie horse! I’m telling!”

She asks, “And how old are you?

I say, “39.”

I am now running down the back stairs while I hear my three boys running up the front stairs and fighting like a giant “Fight Club” tumbleweed every step.

I am in a pair of boxer shorts and a tank top with no bra, a very thin tank top.

She asks, “And your husband’s age?”

I say, “39.”

I am now running through our garage towards the driveway.

She says, “Awwww, that is so cute. You and your husband are the same age.”

I am now running down my driveway, but really bouncing, in broad daylight, while I hear my boys who were “against” each other have now turned on me.

I hear the boys screaming things like, “WHERE ARE YOU MOM?!”

Another yells, “I see her! She is outside on her stupid phone, walking down the street.”

Here they all come out of the garage and after me…

I say to the nice girl who works for Bethenny Frankel, “Oh yes, not only are we the same age we are born the same week AND with baby Jesus’s birthday right between us.”

WTF did I just say? What DID I just say?

I am fully prepared to run onto the golf cart path, barefoot, and with my cell phone, sans bra, and with my husbands underwear on as I realize this is a once in a lifetime chance for…I don’t even know what yet.

She is now laughing instead of chuckling. Thank God.

I am thinking, she doesn’t know me and my sense of humor. You can’t say things like that to someone you don’t REALLY know. What if she is Jewish? What does that have to do with anything? What if she thinks I am a religious freak and I really use the term, “baby Jesus” regularly in my speech?

She says, “Have you read “Fifty Shades of Grey?”

When I submitted the “Two Broke(n) Girls”story they were also chatting on Bethenny’s new site about “Fifty Shades of Grey” and how it has changed their reader’s sex life. I, the ever-present smart ass, replies with my post I had also just written that week called, “Poor Husbands and their Wives‚Äô Naughty Books.”

They weren’t calling about the “Two Broke(n) Girls?”

I answer, “NOOO! I can’t read it because my dad will read it first on his Kindle and then he will want to have a book club discussion and I am not discussing a mom porn book with my dad and I cannot borrow a girlfriends hard copy because, well… I don’t know where it has been and what if a page is sticky? My mind would make it into something worse when it was probably just candy hands. Frankly, I feel like I have already read the book since all my naughty girlfriends are giving me the “blow-by-blow” of the three books…”

That is how I talk. Commas do not enter into my speech and my frontal lobe, which is supposed to filter what we say, has apparently completely stopped working.

She is chuckling again, “Yeah, I just wanted to call and see if you had read it yet.”

I say, “Crap, I was hoping you were calling about my post about friendship and the reference letter I wrote to my BFF’s new neighbors when they meet her and decide they hate her at first, (like I did) and why they should give her a second chance. It is honestly funnier than my “Fifty Shades of Grey” post.”

Did I just try to give someone advice on what to put on their talk show? Did I just hint that my “Grey” post wasn’t good?

OH-MY-WORD! What if I get invited to be on a show about the “naughty book?” If I don’t get banned from my kids southern schools for my post about the gay marriage vote in my home state of North Carolina I will FO SHO get shunned if I go on a talk show about a sex and bondage book.

Sign me up as I am sure this means they won’t ask me to come in and be a “scissor mom” or count “Box Tops” for the school PTO after that!

We talked for a few more minutes while I continued to ignore my kids chasing me down the street shouting things like, “ARE YOU TELLING DAD ON US?!” and, “WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?!” and, “YOU SAID YOU WOULD GROUND HIM IF HE PUNCHED ME IN THE SHOULDER AGAIN!” and, “I WANNA TALK TO DAD!”

She told me she, “liked my energy” and I continued to try to act cool, like talk shows call me regularly. I may have said my group of girlfriends were, “The Real Housewives of North Carolina.”

Yep, I did and collectively between that and the other things that slipped past my lips and the three screaming banshees that followed me everywhere, I realize I will probably never hear from that nice girl again.

I have had so much fun telling my girlfriends the story that it is (ALMOST) just as good.

Follow me or start hammer tweeting (here) Bethenny Frankel or post on her FaceBook wall (here) or comment (here) on Pinterest, (I will send you an invitation if you aren’t on even he, he) to give Abbie at “All that makes you…” a second chance because surely I have enough stories for my own show. I have “dirty” school noodle art.

Oooooo…Bethenny could bring in that British Nanny to make my kids stop calling my phone and computer and blog “STUPID.” I think a shock collar and remote I keep in my pocket would work. They say “stupid” and I say PAVLOV’S DOGS! For Pete’s sake people I am kidding! I just did it again! I just told the “Nanny Show” how to do their job.

-Abbie, and I hope we can share all that makes you smile, laugh, think, love, cry and cry laughing. allthatmakesyou.com

http://www.nydailynews.com/entertainment/bethenny-frankel-prefers-good-conversation-celebrities-talk-show-article-1.1092336?localLinksEnabled=false

Is it Possible to Write Without Insulting? I Say, IMPOSSIBLE!

Fear kept me from posting something I wrote a while back.  

I finally posted the story that scared me this week.

Why Can‚Äôt You Drop Your In-Laws off at a ‚ÄúSafe Haven‚ÄĚ, No Questions¬†Asked?

I had time to think about it and well, my in-laws know me.  They have known me for over twenty years.  They know I tease.

I tell stories and I tease in stories I tell, (my husband Jim says I would NEVER exaggerate.) ¬† When he says, “NEVER” he looks up at the corner of the room and the word, “NEVER” doesn’t sound like the other words in the sentence.

I was not prepared for someone I am not related to, even by marriage, to take issue with my post.

It wasn’t on Word Press where I park my thoughts, but on BlogHer where I occasionally copy a post I think might be well received there. ¬†I mean, come on, this is a story about a woman complaining about her in-laws and BlogHer is supposed to be female readers, right?

Whapppow!  Right to the back of my head.

A section editor over there let me have it in my comment section.

BlogHer post with BlogHer reader comments.

Here is the thing, I like this fellow bloggers style and respect her work and she has been very helpful to a newbie like me.  I even respect her for calling me out on it, (I will let you click the link above to read the comment for yourself.)

Here is what I deduced and replied with…(oh yeah, all in the comment section because I am a wordy girl.)

I think Safe Haven is an amazing program. ¬†The entire concept is genius as I appreciate any government program that calls for the care of a child as an immediate priority instead of placing blame on the mother or father. ¬†I realize that everyone has their own circumstances and I try VERY, very hard to not judge as I have not walked in someone else’s shoes.

I also work very hard at having a good relationship with my in-laws and the comment was made in good fun. ¬†I would never really think anyone would think I was serious as it was simply a play on “walking in someone else’s shoes.” ¬†If someone had been walking in my shoes they would realize that I would never want anyone to think I REALLY wanted to drop my husbands parents off at a fire department. ¬†I never really would turn the porn channel on in the guest room to try and help them, “get along”. ¬†However, I have sat up late into the night trying to think of ways to help them.

I was applauding Safe Havens as being a GOOD IDEA and thinking about a world in which it could be applied to other groups that need help. ¬†If I could get a grown adult help without being judged for running out of options or lacking in the ability to help them anymore it would be great. ¬† We really have though thought that their spouse might leave them with us. ¬†I guess we are their “Safe Haven.”

I apologize if I offended you as I really think the entire Safe Haven program is great. ¬†Sometimes I think I am funny and sometimes “getting” to funny I may have inadvertently insulted someone. ¬† In this case I think we both agree that Safe Haven is a necessary program.

I also can tell you my dad in Michigan adopted me at three after my biological father signed off on custody. ¬†I can also tell you that I have very real memories of having a dad and then going to see a judge who told me that I have a “new” dad. ¬†I and am VERY aware of the ramifications of words related to adoption such as “real child” or “not really his” or “unwanted” and the list of words and phrases cut. ¬†I feel in this case, and for me, it more of a compliment on a program that I obviously feel is genius. ¬†I don’t think it is funny to write a “funny” story about REAL Safe Haven, but a fake Safe Haven to drop off your in-laws..I (still) do think is a little funny.

I joke about being anal retentive about things that don’t matter, but people really do have mental illness. ¬†I joke about being messy but there are really people who¬†have diseases that make them hoard. ¬†I joke about having a cup holder as a bellybutton as a “birth defect”, (I give birth to double digits every time) and there are really people who have birth defects. ¬†I have the attention span of a fruit fly and I blame it on a lead pacifier that I am convinced that my parents gave me, but there are people who really have contracted lead poisoning. ¬† I tease about¬†my poor writing skills and my inability to figure out how to use a comma, but there are people reading that have learning disabilities.

If I didn’t write things that MIGHT offend someone, I would never write anything. ¬†When I was writing this story I was only worried about offending my in-laws. ¬†Insulting anyone who has ever been touched by adoption, which is nearly everyone, had never been a worry.

I hope you understand and hope you might get to know me enough one day that you would know that hurting people is not even close to what I am about.  I do admit that I find things to laugh about but that comes from waaayyyyy back.  That comes from the same place that the people who like to make people laugh draw from.  I kind of consider it a gift, even if I had to go around the block a bit to receive it.

End of my BlogHer response.  

Then I thought, this is a post! ¬†This is something I need to share with my WordPress friends! ¬†What if they too have a bellybutton that turned into a cupholder. ¬†What if I have insulted anyone that has wiped their boogers on the walls for someone else to clean up when I lied and said there was a “Booger DNA Test” that is sold at Walgreens?

Let this be fair warning to anyone who thinks I am an evil doer.  Let this also serve as a warning to everyone who thinks that I really have a TV in our guest bedroom to even turn porn on.  If I put a TV in the guest bedroom my in-laws for sure would never leave!

And I bet you thought I was a terrible person for the first photo at the top of the post.

Peter was so excited to be a black panther that he asked to sleep on the deck since he knew I would say he couldn’t go to bed without washing it off first. ¬†Sometimes we just need to know the whole story or the whole person and sometimes we just need a sense of humor.

-Abbie, for all that makes you smile, laugh, think, love, cry, or cry laughing.

Why I Will Never Be Freshly Pressed

If you think you can handle me hit the “follow” button and I will explain later the booger test I mentioned, (I tweeted it but I will elaborate on “Booger-Gate” and Lord knows you don’t want to miss that when I do.)

Another (Funny at my Expense) Embarrassing Story

I am finishing a story for tomorrow and it makes me laugh every time I repeat it.  I am going to give you a teaser.

It is another, “Why does this embarrassing stuff always happen to me?” Story.

Toddlers shouldn’t know how to Jimmy locks, that well.

Shish kabob skewer removal 

Polishing my bellybutton

ALL OF THE NEIGHBOR KIDS STANDING THERE

“Oh, that rattling is just pasta in our door knobs.”

Watching Oprah leads to far too much waxing for summer than necessary.

“I have to call their mom’s and explain what they saw…Oh, my, word!”¬†

You know how I have explained that I am a little like Monica Gellar from the old TV show “Friends?” ¬†Not in the cleaning way, (making scrunched up face while shaking head) but in the competitive way.

So I am trying to spread the word about my stories and find readers.  I am trying to cross promote my blog onto other sites.

Circle of Moms is having a contest for the honor of being called a top 25 “Mom’s of Multiples” website.

If you like what I write all you have to do is click this and click vote for me.

http://www.circleofmoms.com/blogger/all-makes-you?blogroll_id=59

I have like six votes, one is from me and do you think Obama and Romney are voting for the other guy?  The contest is only for two more days.  I am always coming in late for these things.  Who starts blogging in 2012 anyway?

If you have any other ideas to get the word out or how to share I would love your feedback. ¬†I am doing this with nearly zero internet experience or marketing experience. ¬†All I have to offer is being me and telling stories. ¬†Grassroots effort without SEO classes, hiring a consultant or someone to tweet for me is my approach. ¬†I’m throwing my stuff out there and if people like it then it will go somewhere, but I need some help getting it out.

Ok, now that whole uncomfortable part is done.

Have a great Tuesday.

Abbie, All that makes you… ¬† ¬† allthatmakesyou.com

And Now, Here’s More From My Underwear Drawer!

A couple of months ago I decided to dump my underwear drawer in the middle of the floor, during a dinner party, filled with strangers.

That is my way of saying I started a blog, because that is what if felt like. ¬†It still does every time I hit that “post” button. ¬†I know I keep using the analogy and eventually I will get around to the story of someone actually meeting me and my underwear drawer contents at the same time. ¬†Remind me. ¬†I forget a lot. ¬†So many stupid things happen to me that if I were you I would just accept the idea that I must lie. ¬†Underwear story though, 100% true.

Every time I hit the “publish post” button I expect people to comment with things like…

– It’s like your pouring acid in my eyes with the crap you put on here.

РThis is Al Gore.  You are not allowed to use the internet anymore.

РWhat are you doing?  People without any grammar and punctuation skills should not communicate, yet alone have a blog.

– You suck.

– What county and state do you live in so I can call Child Protective Services?

– Do you need the name of a psychiatrist?

– You are THE argument AGAINST free speech.

– “Put the laptop down. ¬†Walk away from the laptop.” -The spirit of Steve Jobs made me type that. (stop it, it’s funny)

– Please tell me a child is writing this.

Instead, I found really, really terrific people. ¬†I found people who never talk to me in a whine voice and end sentences with, “But it’s not fair!” ¬†I have people from all over the world and from all walks of life reading and commenting on my silly stories. ¬†Finally, people know why I am smiling, because I am sharing the commentary that is in my head. ¬†It turns out my kids may not have driven me to insanity but instead they may have driven me “funny?” ¬†No one is saying, (in same whine voice) “Your NOT funny!”

You all think it’s hilarious TOO when my 12 year-olds learned about sperm and all that they are worried about is the diameter of the “little fish” that are going to shoot out their penis hole. ¬†They did not think I was funny when I was crying laughing because they asked if it was a “liquid or a solid?” ¬†I can’t even remember if I told that whole story but if you remember, comment. ¬†If I haven’t, remind me about that too.

I love comments!  They are like the good kind of Gummy Bears, Haribo.

Then I get nominated for awards! ¬†I love awards! ¬†I don’t get awards at home. ¬†I get chewed up gum in the bottom of my purse when my kids don’t know where the trash can is. ¬†I get the Lucky Charms, AFTER the kids picked out all the marshmallows.

So thank you to these kind, generous, POLITE souls who I know wouldn’t eat the cherry off my sundae before I even had a bite of ice cream.

Creative Chaos Award

Nugget of Knowledge


 

Genuine Blogger Award

READNCOOK

Dad Knows

Versatile Blogger Award

Usual Fool

READNCOOK

Plan B~each head on over and see her and give her some kind words, she needs them right now.

The Nature of Things

Sunshine Award

Belly Button Blues

READNCOOK

Dad Knows

 

And a Thank You to…

Chris Hall at Jaydon’s Playground http://paper.li/Jaydon_Daddy/1333591305

I honestly follow a ton of people and I read a lot of posts while I am waiting for the boys at various places.  I follow and scroll through and bounce around and love it when I find a post that touches me or that I can relate to, makes me laugh or squeal with delight someone is putting something that gross or naughty into words.  I  have read and will continue to read all of these folks.

Now this is how I want to share the love because I frankly don’t want to miss someone on my pass it on list.

Can you post in the comments below, links to blogs that you think I might enjoy and why? ¬†I would love to add some new people to follow that I haven’t stumbled upon yet. ¬†I would love all of my WordPress friends to give me input as to other blogs they think are cool as it seems we all share at least one common thread.

So many rules to these awards…

I am going to tell you a few things about me.  

This way you feel less weird or less weird your still looking at my underwear drawer trying to figure out why would I still have maternity underwear when my youngest is seven.

Favorite Maurice Sendac Book: Pierre because it taught me what could happen if you didn’t care and because Carole King sings it.

Most Unreasonable Fear, (I fully know that it is unreasonable): Wiener dogs.  I had recurring dreams as a child about wiener dogs with heads on either end.

Fight or Flight: Fight

This is for Sid Dunnebacke to Whom I Told I Don’t Play by Rules

Sunshine Award Questions:

1. What‚Äôs my favorite color? ‚Äď Green

2. What‚Äôs my favorite number? ‚Äď 5 and I don’t know why.

3. What‚Äôs my favorite non-alcoholic drink? Squirt, but I drink water ūüė¶

4. Do I go for Facebook or Twitter? ‚Äď FaceBook. ¬†I am a wordy girl!

5. What‚Äôs my passion? ‚Äď My boys.

6. What‚Äôs my favorite pattern? ‚Äď Paisley. ¬†Paisley! ¬†Which gets me into all kinds of trouble because it is my husbands least favorite. ¬†The black bathroom wallpaper with 4′ paisley I had hung, he noticed.

7. What‚Äôs my favorite day of the week? ‚Äď Saturday.¬† I mean, I¬†guess. (copied ūüėČ

8. What‚Äôs my favorite flower? That is like picking a favorite child. ¬†I can’t do that.

-Abbie, allthatmakesyou.com

Thank you all again and please add any blog links that you enjoy and that you think I should follow so that I can add them to my follow list.

I enjoyed this and you might too… ¬†This is all a conversation, right? ¬†http://broadsideblog.wordpress.com/2012/04/26/have-we-lost-the-art-of-conversation/

Summer Vacation Begins in HOW Many Days? Help!!!

Summer vacation isn’t here yet, and I have already had to threaten our three boys that I will make them carry a “Complaint Journal.” ¬†I am thinking if they have to document how much they complain by “complaint” and “time” it may be an ¬†eye opening experience for them.
 
Conversation ended with me threatening second “Smart A$$ Comment Journal”.
 Lord grant me patience and ability to convey a grateful heart to little children.
 
They may need to wear backpacks all summer for all their record keeping.
I know the kids are ready for summer vacation but ARE YOU?
Abbie
allthatmakesyou.com
Click the “follow me” button.
For all that makes you smile, laugh, think, love cry or cry laughing.
If you enjoyed this one I am betting you would enjoy…
 Thanks for coming by and I hope to hear from you!