Thursday, June 11, 2009

Because Everyone Loves Hearing About Other People's Dreams

So the other night I have this dream. Scratch that. I have this nightmare. One in which I am pregnant and about a month shy of delivery. To a son. Do you have any idea how difficult it was to agree on a name for our last son? Honest to God, in an entire book dedicated to baby names we could agree on ONE. There weren't even any remote possibilities. Thank Haysus our last pregnancy was a girl because had it not been, that child would go around nameless for the rest of his life. Then, of course, we had to come up with a middle name and that didn't happen until 24 hours AFTER I'd given birth and the lady from the administration office came in the room and was all, so are you going to finish filling out this birth certificate or what? And I was all, or what - come back tomorrow don't mess with me the Vicodin is wearing off. As if the nine months leading up to the event just wasn't enough time and some kind of special magic was going to happen in a day.

Meanwhile back at the REM sleep... Pregnant. With a son. And pissed off. Even in sleep I was able to agrue points and deconstruct the situation. Didn't I have a tubal ligation? Didn't I have that tubal ligation so that I wouldn't find myself surprised by a pregnancy so close to forty years of age? Do you even realize how old I'll be at this child's high school graduation? His friends would be all, oh it's so nice that your grandmother could make it, and he'd be all, that's my mom speak into her good ear and also sometimes she forgets where she is - if she pulls down her pants and pees in a flower pot ignore this. I mean, isn't this why I didn't just get my tubes TIED or clamped, I got them CAUTERIZED! I was not even kidding around about this. I was as serious as a heart attack.

It was one of those dreams that was so real and vivid. The kind where emotions run high. And when I woke up, I gave Mr. Farklepants a vacectomy. With my eyebrow tweezers and stitched him up with Glide dental floss.

Monday, June 1, 2009


*what you can't see is that Boy-Child#2 is directly on the other side of the child in this picture. And the object of the tiger's voracious appetite affection.

Do you ever have one of those moments where you're like, ohmygod this is like the coolest thing I've ever seen! And, hey! Look at the size of that animals paws, they're like, bigger than my son's head! Conflicted with...


Perhaps I ought to get my children the hell out of here! And - just how strong IS that safety glass? And - who could I save first? And - how fast can a tiger eat my head? And - sandals aren't the best running away from ferocious animal shoes.

No one? Just me?