I'm making comments. Am I the only one who ever does this? Everyone needs to stop treating these blogs like they are just these one-way announcements. Whatever happened to actual interaction between folks? You know, the one-on-one stuff, or even the occassionaly gang-up. You can't just have a blog and everybody views it and a few actually write you a little sweet email and that's the end of it. No way, I'm posting my thoughts for all of your viewers to see. I mean, what good is a 'brag spot' if someone can't bust in and tell everyone else out there how full of crap you really are. Like right at the moment where you're getting highly emotional and waxing on and on about how precious life is and just when you're at your most vulnerable point..WHAM! Someone calls 'BS' and tells some horrificly embarassing story about you. Like how I can remember that one time that you...HA! Thought I was going to do it didn't you. Actually I am going to do it. Like how you mentioned that thing where you can't quite remember your life before kids? Well, well well...let me remind you! Before you were the mother of "kids" you were very energetic. You bounced around your house and always had like 4,000 things to do. You talked on your cell phone all the time and you drove your car around pretty much all day, running countless 'highly important' errands and then in the evening we would go swimming at your house and you would make these amazing dinners or we would go somewhere to eat. There were no diapers, no sleepless nights, there was nobody constantly needing something from you every single second. You could actually wash your hands at your own kitchen sink without a two year old practically pulling your pants down in an effort to get into your arms...at which point they would then try and leap out of your arms to grab whatever might happen to be nearby. Life was pretty fun. It was calm and there was alot of quiet time, you could read books if you wanted to, long books, like books without illustrations and with more than 12 pages. There was even 'laying out' at poolside. Single men would pass by and their first glance was at your hand and not your fat butt. See back then they were checking to see if you were off the market, not 'going to market'. You had surfing lessons in the mornings and sushi lunches with the girls. There was wakeboarding and long boarding..now there's just ironing boarding. There was rock diving and rock concerts...now there's,...well, now there's not really 'rock' anything but you're getting my point right? Is any of this clearing up...I know its kind of hazy, but there was a life back there! Ah, but now you have kids. Yes you do. And now things are amazingly different. But mostly, they're simply amazing. Now you'll have little hands to hold when you jump off that next cliff at the lake, and you'll have more snuggles in the mornings than you will ever be able to soak up. You'll still have lunches with the girls, only they'll involve string cheese and strawberries and the fish will come in sticks instead of rolls. You'll still go surfing, only now you'll have more fun taking pictures. You'll have more love and more worries, and much more joy and probably more pain than you ever thought was possible. You'll have easter dresses and roller skates and pink bicycles with flames down the sides. You'll have curling irons left on and scars on little arms and legs to prove it. There will be screaming matches down the halls and ballet lessons, long naps on the couch on Sundays with someone else's hair in your face. You'll have boxes of homemade birthday cards, proof that glue and cotton balls are still 'in'. And you'll have little paper thanksgiving turkeys that someone made by tracing their hand. There will be break ups and break downs and 'I hate my hair' and 'I'm too fat'. There will be arm floats, rootbeer floats, and homecoming floats. There will be long days, short years, loads of smiles and your fair share of tears. And THAT is what little girls are made of.
OK wait, I don't get it, does that mean I have to change too? What do you mean "proof that glue and cotton balls are STILL in" was there ever any doubt? Oh and, dude, can you hip me on how to rock an ironing board?But seriously Ky, you left out one of, nay, the most important part of child rearing....TORTURE. Torture is as vital to life as air, food and water. It is actually an instinctual trait that only surfaces after babies become toddlers (not really sure how old that is, maybe about 2 1/2 feet tall). I would have thought that a man of your literary talents would have expounded on the sheer delight of watching a child flee in fear of its life, giggling uncontrollably. I personally enjoy going from tickling to Indian Torture and climaxing with a good smack to the bottom of the feet. You really must be careful however; you can easily turn a child who is laughing like a spastic Hyena, into a missed bathroom incident. Well, we are all human after all, so I understand your oversight and look forward to more of your thoughts and guidance.
I'm making comments. Am I the only one who ever does this? Everyone needs to stop treating these blogs like they are just these one-way announcements. Whatever happened to actual interaction between folks? You know, the one-on-one stuff, or even the occassionaly gang-up. You can't just have a blog and everybody views it and a few actually write you a little sweet email and that's the end of it. No way, I'm posting my thoughts for all of your viewers to see. I mean, what good is a 'brag spot' if someone can't bust in and tell everyone else out there how full of crap you really are. Like right at the moment where you're getting highly emotional and waxing on and on about how precious life is and just when you're at your most vulnerable point..WHAM! Someone calls 'BS' and tells some horrificly embarassing story about you. Like how I can remember that one time that you...HA! Thought I was going to do it didn't you. Actually I am going to do it. Like how you mentioned that thing where you can't quite remember your life before kids? Well, well well...let me remind you! Before you were the mother of "kids" you were very energetic. You bounced around your house and always had like 4,000 things to do. You talked on your cell phone all the time and you drove your car around pretty much all day, running countless 'highly important' errands and then in the evening we would go swimming at your house and you would make these amazing dinners or we would go somewhere to eat. There were no diapers, no sleepless nights, there was nobody constantly needing something from you every single second. You could actually wash your hands at your own kitchen sink without a two year old practically pulling your pants down in an effort to get into your arms...at which point they would then try and leap out of your arms to grab whatever might happen to be nearby. Life was pretty fun. It was calm and there was alot of quiet time, you could read books if you wanted to, long books, like books without illustrations and with more than 12 pages. There was even 'laying out' at poolside. Single men would pass by and their first glance was at your hand and not your fat butt. See back then they were checking to see if you were off the market, not 'going to market'. You had surfing lessons in the mornings and sushi lunches with the girls. There was wakeboarding and long boarding..now there's just ironing boarding. There was rock diving and rock concerts...now there's,...well, now there's not really 'rock' anything but you're getting my point right? Is any of this clearing up...I know its kind of hazy, but there was a life back there! Ah, but now you have kids. Yes you do. And now things are amazingly different. But mostly, they're simply amazing. Now you'll have little hands to hold when you jump off that next cliff at the lake, and you'll have more snuggles in the mornings than you will ever be able to soak up. You'll still have lunches with the girls, only they'll involve string cheese and strawberries and the fish will come in sticks instead of rolls. You'll still go surfing, only now you'll have more fun taking pictures. You'll have more love and more worries, and much more joy and probably more pain than you ever thought was possible. You'll have easter dresses and roller skates and pink bicycles with flames down the sides. You'll have curling irons left on and scars on little arms and legs to prove it. There will be screaming matches down the halls and ballet lessons, long naps on the couch on Sundays with someone else's hair in your face. You'll have boxes of homemade birthday cards, proof that glue and cotton balls are still 'in'.
ReplyDeleteAnd you'll have little paper thanksgiving turkeys that someone made by tracing their hand. There will be break ups and break downs and 'I hate my hair' and 'I'm too fat'. There will be arm floats, rootbeer floats, and homecoming floats. There will be long days, short years, loads of smiles and your fair share of tears. And THAT is what little girls are made of.
OK wait, I don't get it, does that mean I have to change too? What do you mean "proof that glue and cotton balls are STILL in" was there ever any doubt? Oh and, dude, can you hip me on how to rock an ironing board?
ReplyDeleteBut seriously Ky, you left out one of, nay, the most important part of child rearing....TORTURE. Torture is as vital to life as air, food and water. It is actually an instinctual trait that only surfaces after babies become toddlers (not really sure how old that is, maybe about 2 1/2 feet tall). I would have thought that a man of your literary talents would have expounded on the sheer delight of watching a child flee in fear of its life, giggling uncontrollably. I personally enjoy going from tickling to Indian Torture and climaxing with a good smack to the bottom of the feet. You really must be careful however; you can easily turn a child who is laughing like a spastic Hyena, into a missed bathroom incident.
Well, we are all human after all, so I understand your oversight and look forward to more of your thoughts and guidance.