I might have to trade myself in for a newer model.

Clique as it sounds, another birthday has come and gone. When once a birthday was full of excitement and childish delight, it is now taken over by dread and self loathing. I would have curled up into a ball onto the floor and cried myself to sleep but A)the babies can smell weakness, B)napping while your children are awake and on the loose is frowned upon and C)I haven't vacuumed in weeks. I even forgot how old I was going to be until myfitnesspal.douche so kindly reminded me, 3 weeks early I might add. I'm not going to tell you how old I am, because a "lady" never tells, but I am under 30. Now before those of you who are older than me jump all over me and throw a fit, calm down. Old people shouldn't throw tantrums. I'll explain to you why I feel past my prime and why my body hates me.

What brought me to the conclusion that I'm getting old, besides the obvious? Sitting. Yes, that's right, sitting. Tonight at work, I became incredibly sore from just doing that simple activity. The same soreness I get from shoveling or trying to run in front of the lady with two cart fulls of food at the grocery store. I even caught myself thinking, "I thought this was supposed to be an orthopedic chair with lower lumbar support?" Who says that? My dad would say that, not this spring chick. But I got to thinking about all the other parts of me that are going to hell. My entire body creaks and cracks, my parents swear they've seen gray hairs (which I believe are extremely blond hairs) and I think I'm starting to grow a moustache. Nothing a little bleach or hedge-trimmer won't get rid of. Now I'm not going to be a whiny, insecure girl that points out everything wrong with herself in the hopes someone will compliment me. But my biggest concern of this moment, are my boobs. Much like T. Swifts' song, they are never, ever, ever getting back together. Like, ever.

I can only dream about trading myself in for a newer model. It's not ok for Brad to dream about trading me in for a newer model.  Because I would break that newer model's tailpipe off. I don't even know what that means, but I'd do it anyway. At least I can look at my girls and live vicariously through them, much like my mother did with me and hope that one day, saggy and old is the new thin and 20.

I'd like to thank the academy for this award!

A few weeks back, I had a comment on a post from someone that said they were going to nominate me for a Liebster Award. My first thought was "Hmm, I wonder if it's real?". My second thought was,"Oh hell yeah! Praise me!" As I excitedly told Brad, his reaction was "Make sure it's not a scam". *Sigh* I thought to myself "Oh, wish you would have told me before I gave out our bank routing number, my soc number and my bike lock code." Of course I had to research the shit out of this so I didn't get scammed, mocked, hacked or whatever. And it's real.

So what is a Liebster Award? It is given by other bloggers to new and/or "Up and coming" bloggers who have less than 200 followers. The blogger nominated has to then post 11 random facts about themselves, answer 11 questions posed by the person who nominated you, create you own 11 questions and pass the honor to another 11 bloggers. Whew, that's a lot of 11's. Then you go back to the nominators page and tell them about it. And no tag backs. So thank you Chantal of Adventures in Hickey Land!! The last thing I won was a mini fridge in college! (Not entirely true, but it's nice dramatic effect).

My 11 Random Facts

 

1)I used to tell my friends in grade school that I had a secret twin sister and brought in two of the same baby picture of myself to prove it. But I added a marker mole on my twin.

 

2) I am too white to be considered Native American and too Native American to be considered white, in some people's eyes.

 

3) Completely in love with Bill Murray and have been my entire life. When I was three, I told my mom I was going to buy lingerie because Bill would like it. True story.

 

4)Hippies REAAAAALY annoy me.

 

5) When I was a child, a hooker told me I must be smart. I'll tell the full story in another post.

 

6)I've worn my hair in a ponytail since the 5th grade.

 

7) I used to writer some really morbid things when I was a child. My parents once asked "What is the matter with you?". I had an undiagnosed case of awesome, which they didn't understand.

 

8) I am a huge procrastinator.

 

9) I have nightmares that I haven't been to class all semester and the final is tomorrow. Even though I graduated college five years ago.

 

10) Weird, honeycomb shaped things scare the living daylights out of me. Like the inside of a sunflower or housework.

 

11) Hardcore hiphop is my favorite. Luda would be either proud or terrified.

 

 

Questions for me from Chantal at Adventures in Hickey Land:

 

Who was the very first blogger you started reading regularly?

I have to admit, I didn't really read blogs before I started my own. So no one I guess.

Last great book you read?

"The Hunger Games" trilogy. Peeta's so dreamy.

What magazines (if any) do you just have to read every month?

Gossip magazines! I used to buy 4 every week for a long time. But then I got real cheap and starting going and reading them for free at Barnes and Noble.

Best parenting or marriage advice you've ever received?

"You should elope". Courtesy of half of my family. Do you think I listened? Of course not. Now I loved my wedding, but I should've taken the money and ran. An extra $25,000 (ish) in the bank would've been awfully nice to contribute to a house down payment or my inevitable tummy tuck.

Are you a couponer? If so, extreme or newbie?

Hell no. I got super excited when it first became a big deal and I tried it.  I must suck at it, because I never really saved all that much money.

If you could pick any other place in the world to move to, where would it be?

The 50 yard line of Lambeau Field. I would literally live in a pup tent there. For those of you who don't know what that is, it's the stadium where the Green Bay Packers play. And if you didn't know that, please stop reading this and firmly pull my foot from out of your ass.

Who was your first follower on your blog (if you know!)?

I believe it was a super lovely lady I work with named Wiener.

What is your favorite color combination?

Green and gold. I know, it's redundant. "She loves the Packers, we know this." Oh, do you? I don't think anyone understands the magnitude of my love for them. It even scares some people. 

Which of your Pinterest boards (if you have one) has to most pins?

I'll Get Healthy...Tomorrow

All time favorite DIY project you've seen on Pinterest (or elsewhere)?

I'm not really what you would call a "Do it yourself" person. I'm more of a "GSTDIFY" or "Get someone to do it for you" kind of gal.

Where is your "happy place"?

I'm not going to do, what you all think I'm going to do and say Lambeau Field. Ok, I will say it. I bet your happy place doesn't smell like brats and stale beer. My other happy place is your mom's house. Ohhh, sorry, my inner teenage boy just came out.

 

11 Questions for my nominees:

 

When did you realize you were a grown up?

What is the one thing you would be glad to get rid of?

Favorite movie as a child?

Worst or most annoying habit?

What is something you look forward to every day?

Name one thing about you that no one really knows.

What is the average time you get up in the morning?

If you could be one famous person for a week, who would it be and why?

What is your biggest pet peeve?

What is the most common word you misspell?

Do you think asking two part questions above will suffice in me not asking a final question?

 

 

And there you have it! Now the only super bad part on my, is that I don't have any blogs at this moment that I could nominate. Why? Because I suck. I promise I will nose around other people's blogs so I can see who I want to nominate and will report back as soon as I can!

 



 



Sweet, sweet fantasy baby

While I was pregnant, I probably heard "Your life will never be the same after these kids" about 125,000 times. After they were born, literally every milestone was met with "After (insert here) happens, your life will never be the same". Well thank you for that incredible insight. I would have been completely unaware had you not shared that.

 Now of course, it's true, but I didn't need anyone to tell me that. I watched "Teen Mom", I knew what was going to happen. But every aspect of your life will change, including your dreams and fantasies. What I dreamed and fantasized about five years ago is ten shades different now.  Now my fantasies aren't exotic, complicated or nasty because I have some mental block where I am unable to think about or visualize anyone having sex. It's a gift really, saving me from people talking about my parents or my parents talking about my parents. Regardless, I still have dreams and fantasies.

THEN: Dreaming about having a career where I made tons of money, made a difference in peoples lives, had 2.5 children and lived in a Barbie dreamhouse. Maybe not the Barbie house, because she's a disproportionate bitch and I hate the color pink. But dreaming about living the dream: LTD, if I may.

NOW: I dream about sleep. Well, I guess that's incorrect, because in order to do that kind of dreaming, that implies that you get sleep. So I fantasize about sleep. Hard, sweaty, all night long sleep. But that doesn't happen often. One of the reasons is because the girls are sleep snipers. They know the exact moment my head hits the pillow. I don't know how. I don't know why. But they think it's the perfect moment to scream like a jagged tooth clown stole their schnuks (nuks). THEY.KNOW.

THEN: My husband and his brother were moving our new couch into our new house about three years ago. They were trying to get it through the front door. So I watched while they grunted and shoved a big thing into a small space. Now I don't fantasize nor dream about that, but it was still nice to look at. My husband looking all big and bad and Polish.

NOW: I fantasize that my husband will surprise me by coming home early with an array of burgers from Five Guys, tacos from Chipotle and some cannoli. All of which are fat-free, gluten-free and burns calories by just looking at them. Then he will tell me that I have to leave for a three hour massage. And being worked on by strangers makes me thirsty, so there would be a bottle of wine and/or vodka waiting for me. That's what I call a happy ending.

Other current dreams/fantasies: 3 (or more) consecutive Super Bowl wins for the Green Bay Packers. Everything half off at Target. The twins going 15 minutes without pushing, biting or picking each others' noses. Not hearing the old lady describe what "Fifty Shades of Gray" is about to her equally as old husband tonight. Teenagers shutting the fuck up in the movie theater after I spent $20 to see "The Hunger Games". Being able to putty my stretch marks shut. And many, many more.

Let me know what some of your new dreams are now that you are a parent or since the real world slapped your dreams in the face.

Shameless Plug

To go along with this blog, I also have a Facebook page, Tarable's Two. There are more updates on the twins and their shenanigans, as well as links for this blog. Feel free to look us up and like us. It really strokes my fragile ego.

People Judging: End of Days Edition

It is now a new year, one that many nutcases speculated wouldn't occur, so I would like to look back over the past few weeks and recount people that I had judged. And I judged them pretty hard, considering a tiny part of me is a nutcase and thought the apocalypse could happen, mostly because of these asshats that I've encountered.

I was able to get out more than usual over the past month to do my last minute Christmas shopping, my usual grocery shopping and getting some time to myself. While most of these days blur together in a haze of diapers changes, tantrums and teething, these are some occurrences that stand out.

Before the girls were born, in order to save money, I would go to Barnes and Noble weekly to read the magazines for free, because I'm a cheap bastard. AB (after birth of babies, which is not the same as nasty, fluidy afterbirth), I am still able to go to the bookstore, but it is maybe once a  month. I read somewhere that bookstores are the number one place for serial killers to search for prey. Excellent. I believe that, because one time, I had been reading my gossips magazines and a white, male, mid 30's sat next to me and started making small talk about the magazine I was reading. He was probably just being friendly, but I'm pretty sure he was sizing me up because he wanted to wear my skin as a suit. Anywho, back to the present. There were a few idiots there, as usual. A pair of girls in their late teens were walking around a display of teen books, annoyingly recapping all of the ones they had read, including endings, which were not happy. A nerdy, Peter Jackson looking mofo talking about "The Hobbit", naturally. And a very angry man, who I am fairly certain was organizing a hit on his wife/girlfriend. I didn't listen too carefully, because he was scary and my freaky possible serial killer friend wasn't there to protect my beautiful hide. Nothing there really indicated possible End of Days type stuff, but annoying none the less.

Then there is Christmas shopping. Day(s) before Christmas shopping to be exact. My plan for some of my relatives was to make homemade ornaments of the girls hand prints. I had pleeeeenty of time to do this. December 23rd rolled around and, shit, I didn't do them. So I went to the Dollar Store. Am I cheap? I believe I answered this question a paragraph ago. Am I not thoughtful? No, I'm lazy but thoughtful none the less. The same cannot be said for the dozens of people at the Dollar Store. There was a family of four who was buying for literally their entire extended family. A preteen boy asking his grandmother where the cameras were, because he wanted to install one in his sisters' room. And a grandmother clearing the store of Pringles for her grandkids. Merry Christmas, enjoy some compressed potato flakes. This was more indicative of End of Days because it shows we procrastinate and don't take things seriously. Do you think Doomsday Preppers waited until Dec. 23 to buy Christmas presents? Doubtful.

This brings me the encounter that I had that led me to believe the apocalypse could have been a possibility. I was at a department store when a girl comes rushing up to a sales rack wearing a white, strapless, short cotton prom looking dress. With a brown tank top underneath. Wearing fur boots. And I don't mean like boots with the fur. I mean furry boots. To understand where I'm coming from google "Furry boots from Dumb and Dumber". The worst part is she didn't have a jacket and it was a winter storm outside. The worst of the worst? This was AFTER the supposed Dec. 21 apocalypse, leading me to believe there is some big bad apocalypse waiting to spring up at us at any moment. And if there isn't a real one, there sure is a fashion apocalypse in the making.

So congrats everyone on surviving their 3rd (or 4th) potential End of Days in the past few years. My husband told me there should be another one within the next 20 years. This time with computers!