I’m a stupid dork.

Thirteen (embarassing) Things From My Past That I Shouldn’t Tell Anyone

So I’m Gonna Tell EVERYONE!

1. Yes, it’s true. As a kid, I crushed on NKOTB’s Joey McIntyre. *shoot me for admitting that*

But how can you resist those blue eyes, and that “is it a perm or not?” curly hair? (it WAS curly once)

[*update* upon googling him to find the hyperlink I was going to use, I felt weird looking at his pic. Now I know why I dated this guy for 7 years. Eh?]

2. I considered giving myself an enema before going to the hospital to have Braden. The idea of crapping during labor mortified me. Time issues = no enema before hospital (can you say “my contractions were never more than 3 minutes apart?”). While pushing, I poo’d nicely. I DIDN’T CARE.

3. I was kind of a skank-ho in high school. I probably would have done the entire football team… if they had actually been attractive. Ugh @ going to a skeez, redneck high school.

4. I once actually said, “It’s like I’m a cancer patient…” about all the vitamins I was taking, in front of my (very sweet, kind, and forgiving) Mother-in-Law. Her husband (John’s dad) actually passed away from colon cancer.

I wanted to crawl inside my own butthole and die 0.3 seconds after it came out of my mouth. Even thinking of it now makes me throw up in my mouth a little.

5. I HAVE sharted. It was just sometime last year. And it was OH SO NOT FUNNY, like it was in Along Came Polly.

Seriously? That has to be the BEST word I’ve learned from a movie.

[Thankfully, it happened in our home. But if it happens to you in public, use this information on "How To Hide A Shart."]

6. My mother (hippy to the max) did not want me to shave my armpits or use deodorant. The purchase of such things for me was pretty much refused.

Already being an awkward tween, and now suddenly having stinky, hairy armpits, I was feeling desperate. I didn’t know what to do!

Then, one day, a nice young boy in one of my classes remarked with disgust, “God, Lotus, you could really use some deodorant for that B.O.”

Thanks a lot, assbag. I would love to hit him right in the face. Right now.

So, what did I do?

I stole deodorant. WTH else was I to do?

God, that is so lame. I STOLE DEODORANT.

7. On the way home from a Halloween party when I was in grad school, I suddenly felt quite green. (Could it have been the copious amounts of alcohol consumed?)

I told the driver, pull over now! He wasn’t fast enough. I puked all down the front of my dress (into the floorboard of my own car). Still jumped out onto the shoulder of the very busy highway, because more was coming.

Tore off disgusting, puke-soaked dress… assumed barfing position on ground (on all fours) in my underwear.

Got home. Walked the entire way from the car to my apartment (not a short distance) in my bra and undies. With vampire teeth still in.

CLASSY.

8. On the night that I graduated from high school, I celebrated BIG TIME, by…

Going home and sitting there. Alone.

Pathetic.

9. I have never been able to stop running my mouth. I am kind of embarassed about it whenever I think of how annoying everyone must find me. My teachers would write, “Talks too much,” “Chatty Cathy,” or other such type comments on my take-home reports.

And look at how my “list of 13 things” just goes on and on and on until you think you’re reading 50 MILLION (thanks, Jenny) things.

10. When I was a kid (and really, now, still) I had horribly pokey-out Dumbo-type ears.

Kids literally called me “Dumbo.”

I was humiliated endlessly about my ears. For years of my childhood, I was obsessed with one day having them operated on, so that people would stop thinking I was such a freak.

I hate mean kids. They should be slapped. A lot.

11. I owned a Nelson CD. That needs no elaboration.

12. I was supposed to finish my MA in Psychology in 2 years. It took me 3. While I entertained myself by becoming addicted to internet chat.

Hey, at least I met John during that time, online.

He said, “browneye” in a chat room, and the rest is history.

13. John told me that when we were first dating, he had an interesting experience.

He was visiting me at my apartment in Winston-Salem, NC. We had been hanging out, laughing, having fun, etc. He had to pee. He got up… walked down the hallway, and went into the bathroom. Closing the door, he turned around, and lifted the toilet seat.

And witnessed a large, brown floater.

Sexy or what?

Now, THAT’S how you impress the guy you’re dating into marrying you one day.

So, what’s your embarassing story?

Wanna see more Thursday Thirteen?

Scatastrophe

All the poo in the world was smeared into my living room carpet last night.Ok. So maybe not ALL the poo. But it sure SMELLED like all the poo.

Oh, before I go deep into this, I’m going to be a nice girl (please be appropriately shocked) and warn you that if you are squeamish about things like stinky, smooshy DOODOO, then you might not want to hang around for long.

And if you can stand reading about it, but seeing a picture would make you toss… well. Yeah. I’m postin’ pictures on this here biznatch.

So. Have I thinned the crowd? Oh COME ON PEOPLE. If I see you leave the room, I SWEAR I’m handing out Atomic Wedgies.

And you there, mister. I know you LIKE them, so that goes opposite for you. No wedgie for you if you leave.

*points at misguided pervert #52*

Ahem.

So. Yeah.

By the way, as some of you will recall, this is definitely not the first time we’ve had a Turdrageous Experience around here. And it’ won’t be the last, I’m sure.

Anyway…Last night, I made the IDIOTIC mistake of assuming that since my lovely, sweet-smelling son had already massively unloaded into his diaper right after dinner, that another fecal catastrophe would not be scheduled for the span of about, oh, let’s say AT LEAST 10 minutes.

I took off his diaper, did the necessary cleaning, and decided that he could have a good long run around with no pants on.

See, Braden is insanely vulnerable to getting diaper rash – and when I say rash, I mean awful, horrible, make-you-want-to-curl-up-in-a-ball-and-die-just-from-being-the-witness-to, weeping, oozing, bloody wounds on his sad, poor little tender biscuits.

If you look at my kid’s ass the wrong way, it turns red.

So we always give him at least 5 minutes of air drying time… and whenever we think “the time is right” we allow him to run naked.

When your kid takes a huge dump, you tend to think the time is right. You don’t expect another one for awhile.

My advice here for anyone thinking the same way: Don’t be an idiot.

And especially don’t think this when you just fed your kid beans and barley soup.

He ran joyfully to the living room and began playing with his toys, uttering the sweet little Toddlerese gibberish and squealie laughs of baby happiness that make a Mama’s heart feel happy.

I excused myself to check e-mail in the next room.

I could hear his little exclamations of joy and discovery.

Less than 5 minutes passed, and there was a bit of quiet. Then footsteps.

He came into the room. So did the odor.

I made eye contact with him. He turned around and started heading out again, quickly.

“Braden JAMES!”

(I warned you.)

Ohhhh…. Braaadennnnn…

I deposited him in the bathtub, but before running water, I checked on the carnage in the living room.

Lovely.

And wait. It gets better.

Yes. What you are thinking. It’s true.

That’s CRAP on his cheek.

This is the excitement of Thursday night around here, folks.

I got excrement smeared on my arm last night. What did YOU do?

Unexpected Situations

INSTRUCTIONS FOR CHILD REARING, Chapter 11
*Unexpected Situations, Part 3
*What to Do When Child Attempts to Eat Own ExcrementFather:
1.) Notice that your diaperless sweetheart just dropped a log on the carpet.
2.) Realize simultaneously that he is bending over to pick it up.
3.) FREAK OUT.
4.) Start screaming – begin in normal tone of voice, quickly ramping up to intense, shrill trumpeting – “no, No, NO, NO NOOO, NOOOOOO!!!!”
5.) Jump any obstacles and rush over, grabbing the child’s arm right before disaster strikes.
6.) Hold child up in mid-air, looking bewildered and disgusted.
7.) Run out of room with child, not sure where you are going.

Mother:
1.) Be startled by your husband screaming.
2.) Look to see what is going on.
3.) Laugh. A lot.
4.) Laugh some more.
5.) Point. LAUGH.
6.) Tell your husband to put the baby in the bath tub.
7.) Help clean the child, starting by wiping the chunk of Turd off of his lip.

People, no matter how smart you think your kid is everytime he does something that seems brilliant and amazing… an episode like this will leave you wondering about the adaptive qualities of putting everything in the mouth. I mean… do our kids REALLY need to learn about the world by tasting it? Can’t God just program in, “Don’t Eat Your Own Shit, Thanks.” ?

*sigh*

But…. it WAS funny. Heh.PS: No pictures on this one, sorry. I was afraid John might actually divorce me if I went and got the camera.