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

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

Recovering Emotionally From River’s Carnivorous Seaweed

Jim has had two weeks off between the fellowship that just ended and going back to his private practice.

I need a vacation from his vacation. We will be back home soon and I might make out with our washer and dryer.

I posted this picture yesterday I took while sitting in my father in-laws backyard in Michigan.

Peter has dragged his net from the back of a kayak in the mountains of North Carolina to the ditches of rural Michigan.

I am not kidding when I tell you he jumped outof a boat in the river to catch a water snake. Seeing that snake wiggle back and forth through the water towards the banks made me happy that he had a net in his hand and couldn’t swim after it.

Here is Peter with his only catch from Michigan.  A praying mantis.  He longed to catch a newt at his Papa’s marsh but it had been so dry he was probably more likely to catch a desert lizard.  

  Our friends all learned to never go canoeing with me and if they do they better be faster than I am in a kayak.

The teenagersall learned that I won’t baby them, as I am an equal opportunity canoe flipper.

FYI, if you ever decide, (after flipping everyone’s canoes) to float the rest of the way down the river next to your kayak so as to foil anyone’s attempt to “get even”…DON’T!

I was on my back, not looking where I was going, with “Crazy Sarah”, (whom I had recently left canoe-less due to a water problem her canoe had after I rolled it he, he, he) when a field of underwater seaweed-garbully-gook-icky-BEsgusting-man-eating-venus-fly-trap-under-water-human-eating STUFF enveloped me.

If anyone in the entire southeast section of America heard a grown woman screaming like a baby girl relentlessly and without shame last week between the hours of approximately 4-4:30, it was me.

What you didn’t hear was our entire pack of friends laughing at me. “Crazy Sarah” was smiling her evil smile while saying, “There are probably snakes that live in that stuff too!”

I kicked in place. I was stuck like a fly in Jello with a fountain of water spewing above me from my futile swimming. I was screaming in tongues.

Crazy Sarah was probably secretly hoping to collect my bones when the carnivorous river vegetation was done with me.

Crazy Sarah and her bone collecting and zombie apocalypse story here…

Karma will always give us a good kick in the pants if we deserve it. I soooo deserved it!

The older boys have “pool noodle battled” all of their cousins in Michigan and discovered all the attention a scratch on the neck gets you when people think you have a hickey.

They also learned what a hickey is.

I cannot believe how much I have missed sharing stories. This blogging thing has really surprised me.

Thanks for letting me share,
Abbie
allthatmakesyou.com
All that makes you smile, laugh, think, love, cry or cry laughing.

New Pet (Coming Soon to WP)

Here is one of my early posts you might have missed.  I will be back tomorrow with something new.  I am busy with a NEW PET!  Oh my word!  What was I thinking!  

I had to buy two other containers of LIVING creatures to feed it. SOS!!!

“Mom, the baby is eating the dirt in the flower pots!  Don’t worry though because he likes it!” – Ever helpful older twin brothers.

I didn’t have time to make lunches this morning. It doesn’t happen often and I get all kinds of stink eyes from Peter and my husband Jim if I tell them they are buying their lunch. Jim because he doesn’t want to spend money on lunch and Peter because he is a food snob! He comes home today and I ask him how the school lunch was today.

His response, “They had grilled cheese. That’s what they called it anyway.”

I admit I am a little proud of my own grilled cheese, not that I make them often. I use a grill pan to get the lines, butter, creamy cheese, good honey wheat bread and then I sprinkle a little parmesan like you would sprinkle salt before I cut it.

So I try to sound sad for him, (he appreciates me and loves my food and will never get married and leave me! this is my interpretation) “They always have other choices. Did you eat anything else?”

Peter, “I tried to eat a banana from the cafeteria but it turned to powder in my mouth when I bit it. The school’s grilled cheeses came out of a box. They got them from UPS. The box said UPS. No one should have to eat a grilled cheese that UPS made! I mean, I like UPS. UPS brings most of my favorite stuff to our house but they should NOT be making grilled cheese!  Can we pack my lunch tonight?”

You will see that Peter likes it when we turn him into a sand sculpture (maybe not the mermaid but that’s what you get for pestering.)  The boy has to eat constantly.

Judging from the pictures you see the kid will try about anything.  If he says the sandwich was bad I will take his word on it.  After all, he will even eat a tuna sandwich at school if I pack it, (chocked full of onions and egg and mustard) and he has no shame and even feels bad the other kids are eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Abbie,  All that makes you…  allthatmakesyousmile.com

I loved this

Huffington Post Article Written by Suburban Jungle “Moms are Jealous Bitches.”

PS Can anyone “like” my page on Facebook.  Just want to try and get 30 “likes.”

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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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