Why you shouldn't eat off of Airport tables....

Yes, we were traveling yet again with the Pig.  We went to Utah to hit the slopes and frolic in the fresh "pow pow".  My husband was convinced that he could take the Pig in a backpack on the greens, but after the whole Natasha Richardson tragedy, the Pig went to daycare on the mountain, and I wore a purple helmet.  

Skiing is such a funny thing.  Ski clothes aren't the most fashionable clothes on earth.....it really should be more about function than fashion, but it's nice to splash in a few nice touches.  I remember my first time to ever go skiing, well maybe it was my fourth time.  My first time I was about 4 years old, and wore a navy blue one piece that had red apples for pockets.  It was actually really cute.  However, I'm actually thinking back to high school skiing.  I wore a bright purple bib that was made out of shiny thick spandex with a white turtleneck, pink Columbia jacket, RayBan aviators, a high ponytail, and a cashmere ear-warmer headband.  No wonder I was absolutely freezing!  But, hey, my little high school ass looked good.  That's probably because it was literally freezing off.....

Now a days, I wear some black Burton snowboard pants, a hooded powder blue Marmot jacket that is water resistant, ski goggles, and now......a helmet.  I usually wear a white Prada ski cap, but this year we had to trade that in for a dorky helmet.  I did fancy things up with my wool Missoni scarf.  That was a great idea until it was snowing like a bastard, and I had to choose function over fashion.  I had to decide if I wanted to have my lower face freeze off, or if I wanted to possibly get red lip gloss on my scarf.  I chose to get lip gloss on my scarf since I didn't pack my La Mer face cream.  It was snowing in our faces, and my scarf was getting stinkier by the minute.  The frozen snot and slobbersicles were not what I had in mind.  The smell of a sweaty mountain goat was also an unpleasant feature due to the Italian wool that Missoni uses. Dammit.  Sometimes we sacrifice for fashion. 

I was proud of my outfit until we got to the ski lodge for lunch, and I was forced to stand at the Bratwurst grill with Gisele Bundchen's first cousin.  This girl was tall skinny, and had her perfect hair in two perfect little braids.  She was wearing the perfect black bib.  It was tight in all the right places with a boot cut leg that only made her long skinny model legs look like something that had been digitally retouched.  I felt like a dumpy mom in my Burton snow board pants that have a mom jean waste.....I swear, it comes up to my ribs!  My hair was kind of like the monster from Where the Wild Things Are.....due to my dorky helmet.  Oh well.  Whatever!

Anywho, so we had a great time, and were on our way home when we got slapped with a two hour delay on our connecting flight.  We found a great little spot away from most of the travelers.  We were behind one of the gate counters in a small row of four seats separated by a little table.  We blocked off one passage with the stroller, and the other way was blocked by Daddy's feet.  We totally let the Pig crawl around the disgusting airport floor like a maniac......he loved it!  He loved it so much that he took a big dump in his pants......I'm talking big dump.  We both looked at each other and said, "well, it will be easier if we both do it, and no one will see us.....that table is the perfect little spot..."  

Yeah, we totally did it!  We changed our baby's shitty diaper on that little white table that separates the seats in the gate area.  I of course put a changing pad down, and was completely diligent about keeping the poo contained, but we did what I thought I would never do in public. Three years ago, I probably would have called Airport Security on the family doing such a horrific thing, but now........everything has changed.....oh yes, everything has changed.  

Vagina Burger

We had such a big day on Sunday.  Pig had so many firsts!  The sun was finally out, the lake was melting, and we were not going to go through the day without a walk and some outside activity. We had already been to the gym where I got a huge retina workout.  Yeah, that's right...I said Retina workout.  I call it that because I went to yoga and rolled my eyes the whole time!!!  I hate the one yoga instructor!  I have every reason to.....she made us do crunches....in yoga!  Who does crunched and lunges in Yoga?  She was like, "put your hands behind your head, and go up for three and down one...."  What???  I hate her!  That isn't yoga.....it's aerobics!  I hate her.  

Anyway, I digress.....back to Pigpen's day.  We decided to walk to the neighborhood Dunkin for a little exercise and a little munchkin snack.  It was Sunday after all, and the walk to D&D is 2.5 miles, so a munchkin or four is okay after such a hike....right?

So, we cut through the park on our way, and came upon a fabulous little play mecca with several parents and children enjoying the day.  It was such a perfect little Sunday.  We pushed our BOB towards the fabulous little jungle jim, and Pigpen's dad asked me if we could send him down the slide.  By himself!  Keep in mind that he is 9 months old.  Of course I said no!  He pushed and pushed and pushed, so I gave in.....I walked up there and got him ready to go down the two foot slide.  Daddy was at the end to catch him, and I was at the top to push him down.  

That is when I saw it!  Some one vandalized the sweet little orange slide.  They "tagged" it like a gang member. They wrote "Vagina Burger".  I read it and looked at Pigpen's Dad.  I said, "what if he gets hurt on the Vagina Burger Slide.....he he?"  He looked at me and said, "that's pretty funny!"  We loved it!  Pigpen loved it!  After tackling the Vagina Burger, we were ready for the big boy slides!  I went down with him on my lap, and Daddy caught us both on the way down. We did the enclosed long slide, and the curly-q.  It was so much fun!   

Pig went down his first slide, he swung in the infant swing, and then he went with me in the Kayak when we got home!  What a day!  It all started with the Vagina Burger.  

I asked my husband if he ever thought that Sam would go down his first Vagina Burger at nine months old, and he said that he wondered if it reminded him of when he was born.  I hate him!

Mentor

OMG is how I have to start out today.  OMG is so appropriate because I was giving out advice last night to my little neighbor.  She came over for advice about her recent breakup.  I was so flattered, and then flabbergasted by what we talked about!  You wouldn't believe how today's small town freshman thinks she could bring her relationship to the next level!

So, here's how it went down:  doorbell rang, saw cute Freshman, invited her in, she sat in the chair with the dirty socks, a few of Pigpen's chew toys, and a burp cloth.  I sat across from her on the sofa and we chatted.  She told me that she broke up with her boyfriend last week, and still wasn't over it.  I had to resist saying to her......this so won't matter when you turn 20, and you won't even remember it when you turn 30, and you probably won't even remember his name when you turn 40, but I held back and just listened.

I was amazed at how fast she talked.  It was like she was speaking some foreign teenage language laced with "wickeds" and IM words.  It was awesome!  She didn't want to get back with him, but then she did, and she just didn't really know.  They cried after they broke up, but they cried via texting.  What!  As if it's not hard enough to be a Freshman in high school, but to be a Freshman via texting and IMing.  How can you even know what the other person really means or feels when you are having a relationship through modern technology?  I fear for Sam. 

I promptly told her that guys were more sensitive than girls, and that she will find that out later on in life.  I also told her that the fact that he is already dating someone else in a week's time is due to his broken heart, or lack of a heart.  I told her that some guys are dogs, and they will tell you whatever they can to make you sleep with them.  You can avoid this by being a good girl that is honest and doesn't play games.

I then felt compelled to tell her about STD's and pregnancy since I'm positive her parents have never talked about it at all!  I used the same scare tactics that my mom used with me.  I am proud to say that I was not a slut!  I was too scared of getting AIDS, Blisters on my cookie, or genital warts!  GROSS!  She then proceeded to tell me about "hooking up".  I asked her what that meant exactly, and she told me it meant third base.  Once she noticed the confused look on my face, she said to me, "you do know what the bases are don't you?"  I don't really know what they are in a baseball sense or a high school sense.  I was thinking back to high school and how I was always concerned with whether or not my boyfriend could distinguish between the padding on my bra, or my actual tiny little chichi.   Ugggg!  

We concluded that if you are bored with your relationship.....third base will not help things out, and that she shouldn't do anything that she is scared to do or unsure of.  I also told her about my favorite saying......if you worked on UCA Staff you heard me say it at every girl talk.  "Reputations are easy to get and hard to lose."  So, you don't want to get the rep as the "blow job chick", or "the village bicycle".  No, I did not say Village Bicycle to her.  I do know enough to know that she would not get it.  

I sure hope that I can have an open dialog with my kids about sex.  I think kids need to know all the consequences that can come from there 4 minute romp in the car.  Is a lifetime of funk worth 4 minutes in your parent's cellar?  I don't think so.  :) 

Shitty Day

This one is for you Michelle.

Our morning routine is, wake up, mommy has cereal, Pigpen crawls around, Pigpen eats, Pigpen poops, Pigpen gets a new diaper and a daily outfit.  The other day we were following the routine to a tea until Pigpen didn't just poop, he exploded!!!

It was everywhere!  Under my nails, on his side, back, hands, the changing table.  I was screaming and trying to breath only through my mouth as I used almost an entire box of wipes. It was a doozy!  So, we decided to go and get a sink bath.  This was the fastest I have ever gotten the sink ready.  I say sink because we have no tub in the damn house!

The sink has no stopper, so we stop it up with a bottle stopper for the baby bottle and a Tupperware bowl for his food.  I cleaned him off as much as I could, and carried him downstairs with only a diaper on.....he had the diaper on, I had flannel PJs on.  I carried him down under his arms, and as far away from my flannel PJs as possible.  I dipped him in the water, and saw some fabulous little turds take float.....awesome!  All I could think of was the 2020 special that tested people's homes and found feces in the fridge and in the kitchen......I know can relate.  

We bathed, and got dressed, and then he finally fell asleep...exhausted from such a movement.  I got cleaned up, and ready to go to Target, and then......I smelled it again!  He shat himself another time!  I was not going to bathe him twice in one day......that is unheard of! Sooo, with much concentration, I folded the shitty onsie over, and tried to carefully get it over his head with the precision of a bomb squad disarmer......no luck!  His back was clear, his sides were clear, but he had shit in his HAIR!!!!

I knew that I couldn't just wipe it out with a wipe......that is well.....shitty, so we headed to the bathroom and laid on the sink.  I was having nostalgia of getting my hair permed by my mom in middle school.....a noble attempt at saving money.  He was surprisingly pleased and still for the ghetto beauty salon shampoo technique.  

My husband finally got home from work, and needless to say......I was ready to hand the Pig off. He was giving him his bottle, and not having success at all!  I was ready for the Pig to go to bed, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.......

I grabbed the boy and tried to burp him.  He let out a huge burp, so I turned him around to get him in "feeding position", and that is when the exorcist came out to play.  He "projectiled" the contents of half of a biggie size milkshake all over the front of me.  I was wearing a wool/cashmere sweater, and a fabulous pashmina tied into a beautiful knot right in the front. He barfed all over me:  the knot, the sweater, and down my shirt!  Of course, I screamed and then we laughed for a good 10 minutes.  

Needless to say.....it was a shitty day.