Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Sub Hunter....
Then it happened- I had a new "first". At age 36 firsts are fewer and farther between, so it is indeed newsworthy.
Having gotten the girls bathroom already glistening clean (you can see the little sparkles coming off the marble and silver like Tiffany diamonds glistening in a girls eyes) I decided to let them take a bath in the tub of all tubs. My tub. The next most fun place on earth when compared to Disneyland in a toddlers eyes.
Girls are playing with the few toys I have in there, I grab their towels and tidy it up when the following transpires
AVA: (Playing in the tub, la da da...playin in the tub, fun fun fun) Wait, Whats that?
MOMMY: " What do you mean whats that?"
AVA: "There is something in the water....what is it?
MOMMY: What do you mean there is something in the water (mental preperation comes right about now, because the one thing that pops into my head is what is more than likely is)
AVA: EEEWWWW ITS A POO- HAYLEY WENT POOOOOOOOOooooo" ( and this is exaggerated in the way only a 4 year old could possibly over-exaggerate) OOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooo
MOMMY: What do you mean (walking over to the side of the tub)....EEWWW OUT OF THE TUB- ABANDON SHIP- EVERYBODY OUT"
AVA: "Mommy- look- theres another one! Gross Hayley- You poo'd in the tub- I dont like poo in the tub" (yes, mensa here she comes)
Mommy got to go fishing- for poop. In the bathtub, And no- it wasnt like a single rogue submarine either- it was two subs, then a small attack sub, and floating subhunters followed along by debris from the subs that didnt survive. Not a fun time. Not a great smell in a very warm lavender scented bath tub.
BUT, I can say our bathtub is now good and clean.
As though that were not enough, so I pull the kids naked poopy bodies out of the water, start to drain and sift out the larger chunks, telling both girls not to leave our bathroom since they obviously needed to be re-bathed after I drained the stew out and gave the tub a good soft scrub cleansing. Next thing I know- Hayley starts doing her happy dance and decides to try to crawl up the step stool.. crawls down, and goes into the "crowching tiger, hidden dragon" stance. Only it wasnt a hidden dragon, it was the muddy river that was more than likely the fluid the submarine was launched from. Soo Gross
On the tile floor.
So when my husband gets home I need my special accomidation medal. For courage in the line of fire. Sometimes being a mom is really a shitty job!
Ode To Summer
(best when listening to 1985 by Bowling with Soup)
I think my "age" first hit me last summer. After having Hayley, the girls and I decided to load up the car and make the 14 hour drive from Chesapeake, Virginia to Pensacola, Florida to meet up with my husband who was doing Aviation Safety school in preperation for his current dutys at HS-3. We successfully navigated our way cross country- and arrived at our condo ready for a weekend of fun in the sun.
Now no one looks cooler than a new mom. With my two piece skort contraption securing my thighs into place, SPF 50 applied to all skin possibly seeing sunlight, along with a stroller containing Hayley, diaper bag, beach bag, floatation devices, sand castle making gear, towels for four and a small cooler- the circus made its way from the parking lot beach side. Hayley tucked herself in for a nice 3 month old nap, and Ava and Daddy hit the water. As I laid there in my pillsbury dough boy splender, belly skin flapping in the wind along with my new batwings- I saw three nice young stallions come strolling down the beach. Lifeguards no less. Little red swim trunks on, body boards of safety strapped across their washboard young firm hairless chests. Quite the Baywatch for Women experience. As the crew passed my fort of parenthood- I did my best to either suck it in or bury it in the sand...my attempt to look "hip". Then, I saw HIM. About 300 pounds, covered in man hair (and I do mean covered front to back except for on the top where a cul-de-sac circled his noggin), Chris Farley on the beach- playing frisbee with his friend. Wait, did I say playing Frisbee? More like pretending to play frisbee without spilling his beer.
At that moment I came to a realization. Looking to the right I saw the three stallions and Chariots of Fire played in the distance...and looking to the left I saw Chris Farley in all his manly splender, Loverboy playing off in the distance. Suddenly, it hit me. At this stage in life- what I wanted, and what wanted me- were on two different sides of the beach. I had passed the point of no return. Youth was fleeting down the sand in a finely toned coppertone commercial. When did this happen? Where was the line crossed? How did I end up this old already? I dont feel much past 25 (except on days when my back hurts, or I pull a muscle bending over to tie my shoe) Seems like I blinked and gravity was no longer my friend. Everything is now slowly being pulled back to the earth...starting with the boobs. I jokingly told my friend if I were to be a villan it would be a Fembot from Austin Powers- but now that I have completed nursing my second child, I would only be shooting myself in the foot.
I guess I still have Mermaid Man and Barnicle Boy to immulate. Truly- sometimes a nice BM CAN be better than sex...you kids just wait and see!
So- time for me to go and take my Geritol and get out to Michaels. They are having a sale and I need to replace the silk plants in my front yard. Hope you all have a nice summer and just remember- there are things you look at and things that are looking at YOU. Hope the right side of the beach is still your oasis, even if its only in your dreams!