Grannie Panties

So last week my cousin called and told me that the Gap was having an undergarment sale, a really good one. This got me excited as I could use some new panties. We rushed right up at lunch and found that all the underwear's were on sale for .97. Thats right folks ninety seven cents. Whoah man. I bought somewhere near 17 pairs. At the register I held up this one pair and I asked my cousin and the sales girl if they looked like they would be granny panties. They both replied no way. So I get them home and decide that since I'm a little iffy about them I will make them my one time of the month panties.

This is what I got stuck with, or at least something very similar



Well my time came yesterday so I pull out my new period panties and put one leg in and put the other leg in and pull them right up to my nose. Okay they didn't really go that high they really went about two inches above my belly button. WHAT. What on earth do I do with these things? So I come up with the only logical solution. I roll them down. Thats right folks I rolled. So now I'm walking around with my rolled up panties still sticking out of the back of my pants because I'm pretty sure it isn't possible to roll them down far enough to make normal size panties out of them. I feel like a complete dork here people. Oh but wait it gets better. My pants are too big this morning so I have them rolled up also.

Okay lets recap. My underwear are rolled up my waistband is rolled up, my stomach has rolls...I suck.

Weighing In

I don't understand our worlds obsession with being thin. Growing up my mother was crazy about my weight. Ha I say was like she isn't still just as obsessed. My mom bought me my first bottle of diet pills when I was 15. I loved it. I weighed about 115 pounds and I was convinced I was gross and full of fat. I was a cheerleader, I went to boxing at night and right after school I would go to the gym for about 2 hours. I couldn't work out that much now if I tried. Later after I became immune to my first brand of diet pills and I had moved on to my second I learned about puking. That was much easier and I had learned to do it so that most people didn't know. My best friend and my cousin knew and they were not happy but there wasn't much they could do. A few years later my junior year my friend and I tried taking laxatives once but that sure didn't work. At the end of high school I was a size 3-5 and I was so frustrated that I wasn't a size 1.

Fast forward to now. I moved out, quit kicking my ass at the gym and learned how to eat regularly. It was amazing how quick I gained weight and even more amazing how much I didn't seem to care. The same is not true for the rest of the world though. I had super skinny friends around me claiming to be to fat when all I could see was skin and bones. I had family telling me my ass was getting big and wondering why I had let myself go. People started giving me little hints like bringing me a salad and questioning me every time I ate something questionable like Taco Bell or some ice cream. For a long time I didn't let it get to me but after having Brandon I was very self conscious. I went on a diet limiting my calories to 1500 and the doctor told me that was unsafe because I was breast feeding. So I got a membership to the gym only I never seem to be able to make it there more then once a week. Now every day I'm hearing from my mom "did you go to the gym today?", "How many times did you work out this week?" All I feel is that I'm not quite good enough. I've always felt like my mom loved me more the skinnier I was. I was her little trophy. Look how cute my daughter is. Drives me crazy.

What started this whole blog was yesterday. I went 30 days with out eating chocolate (okay 21 because of my birthday but still) and my mom never once noticed I hadn't eaten sweets. Yesterday I started my period and I felt like shit. I decided to go grab some taco bell and some chocolate. When I was at the store they had those big candy bars on sale for a buck and i figured why not get one, have some at work and then bring it home for the rest of the week. My mom walks in the office and says to me "why do you need so much candy?" I was shocked. I was like why does it matter. I'm on my period why can't I have some? She's like well why pay for a gym if you are just going to eat chocolate? I was furious. I'm so sick of this. I don't understand why it matters how I look now. I got a membership at a gym to help my heart not to look like a high school girl. I don't care how I look. I love food. I consider myself a chef and I have a motto, "THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS A SKINNY CHEF." I don't mind that I don't look the way I used to or that I don't fit in the little jeans any more. So this is what I just don't get. Why is it okay for you to call me fat? I never once looked at my mom and told her that she was fat. I've never commented on her clothes or her hair like she does to me. I've never done that to the people who do this to me. I wonder how those people would feel if just once I said how fat they were. If once I said that they should do something with their hair because they look like crap. Maybe I should tell the next person who wants to criticize my weight that they need a nose job or something like that. Maybe then they will understand every single day how it feels to be me. Why can't people just accept that some people are just happy being happy. I have a husband who is amazing, a beautiful son, two houses, a great job and so on and I did it all as a fat ass. But you know what I'm happy. When I diet and I don't eat I become a huge jerk. I love food. Food makes me happy. I love to cook it and experiment with it and try new things. So leave me alone. If you see me walking down the street leave me alone. Let me be fat. Let me enjoy my family and my food and my jiggly butt. Just remember we all have insecurities and pointing out mine may make you feel better but I promise someday someone will call you on yours and you will see how it feels to be me. I'm not going to be compassionate either. I'm just going to sit back and laugh.

A very very bad idea for moms

You know back in my younger days I used to love my low slung jeans. I had a pretty cute butt then so I didn't mind when I bent over and you saw a little of it. Then I grew up got a real ass and bought better pants and a super belt. No more bending over and seeing my butt, or as I call it my jiggly fat. No more spare skin tire rolling out over the top of my jeans. I was now stuffed safely inside my big girl pants and strapped in extra tight with my jumbo wumbo belt. I've done pretty good lately about buying normal pants but sometimes when I'm in a hurry at the store I just grab my size and go. Sometimes low pants are still cute with the right shirt for a night out or something. However they are NOT GOOD FOR MOMS. This morning I was in a hurry so I ran in my closet and grabbed the first jeans I saw. I noticed they were a little low but didn't have the patience to bother with belt loops. So I got the bight idea of putting on a longer shirt. I was out the door in no time. I arrive at work to discover my long shirt is only considered long with normal jeans. Okay fine. I'll just keep my butt in my chair all day and no one will notice, right. WRONG! When my son finally took a nap I figured now was a good time to pick up all the color crayons off the floor. OOOPS. thats right I'm down on my hands and knees with my granny panties sprawling out of my pants for everyone to see and my butt crack (am I allowed to say butt crack on here?) peaking out of those. It was mortifying. I ran over and closed my office door and scurried around trying to find all the rest of the Crayola's and then planted my butt back in my chair. THIS IS WHY IT IS A BAD IDEA FOR MOMS TO BUY LOW JEANS AND AN EVEN WORSE IDEA FOR MOMS TO FORGET THEIR BELT.



Never forget your belt moms. In fact just go buy enough belts for all your jeans so they are pre-looped and you don't even have to make an effort in the morning.

FUNNY FARTING KIDS

SO MY THREE YEAR OLD NIECE MAZZIE IS AT MY WORK TODAY PLAYING WITH MY SON. ALL THE SUDDEN MY OFFICE STARTED TO SMELL LIKE POOP REALLY BAD. SO I PICKED UP THE BOY AND SNIFFED HIS BUTT AND IT WASN'T HIM. SO I ASK HER IF SHE HAS TO GO POTTY AND SHE SAYS NO. I WALK AWAY AND THE SMELL IS STILL THERE. THIS IS HOW THE CONVERSATION WENT

SHANNON: MAZZIE DID YOU POOP

MAZZIE: NO

SHANNON: ARE YOU SURE, CAN I CHECK

MAZZIE: OKAY

SHANNON: CHECKS, SURE ENOUGH NO POOP

SHANNON: DID YOU FART

MAZZIE: YES GOSH

SHANNON: YOU SHOULD SAY EXCUSE ME WHEN YOU DO THAT

MAZZIE: NO AH YOU AREN'T SUPPOSED TO TELL

SHANNON: HA HA HA HA HA

THIS WAS SOOOO FUNNY. BECAUSE I GUESS SHE IS RIGHT HUH.

I NEED HELP MOMS

Okay it is time for me to tell you all my dirty little secret. My son is 15.5 months old and I'm still nursing. Shhhhhh gosh I can hear your screams of horror all the way from here. Hang on let me put some cotton in my ears....Okay I'm back. Okay so up until 24 hours ago I was a full time nursing mom. This isn't all my fault. Okay its mostly my fault. While I was pregnant I listened to people rant and rave about the wonders of breastfeeding. How much money I would save on formula, how wonderful it is for my child and so on. So since I'm super insane mom who takes everything to extremes I decided that not only was breast feeding best feeding it was only feeding. Don't get me wrong, occasionally I would pump and let my husband use a bottle but then I heard those little voices of the leche nurses in my head screaming "nipple confusion, dry up and so on." Aside from all this my son was very ummm how do I say this, he was an independent thinker. When he was two weeks old the doctor advised me that if this kid was going to ever take a bottle or a pacifier I would have to introduce it then because he was going to be very picky, determined and in control. Well I never gave him a pacifier because I've heard so much bad about it and I barely gave him the bottle and guess what? My son became a boob man. He pulls my shirt down in public he squeezes my moms boobs to tell her to take him to me and so on. There is another side to this though. I LOVED NURSING. It was the most intimate special bonding time with my son. He really had no where else to look but right up into my eyes and I never got sick of looking right back at him. It was like at those moments I knew that I was nourishing my son and I was helping him in a way only a mother could. I was protecting him fro allergies, and making him a better reader and keeping him 100% organic (minus that one Krispy Kreme my dad gave him at two months).

Anyway now on to the real problem at hand. I haven't nursed in 24 hours. Yes I finally decided I was done nursing. But now my boobs feel like two giant cantaloupes stuffed in a bra.



I don't know what to do. I woke up this morning leaking milk and feeling like my boob was going to blow up. Don't even get me started on how I felt when I tried to put on a bra. I'm pretty sure I have a giant boulder lodged in my boob.



So here is what I need. I need some advice on what I can really do to make this stop. I returned my pump already but I'm pretty sure pumping wouldn't help because I would just keep producing milk. I have heard the old wives tale about cabbage leaves but come on people I work full time around a bunch of guys I can't go to work with cabbage in my boobs.



So please send your advice before this happens to me.

Sniff Sniff

I just found this on my moms computer. My little boy is so big now. I'm pretty sad about it. Sniff Sniff Seriously guys this is the kind of crap that convinces people to have another kid. This could turn into an endless cycle people. Must stop looking now.

Evil Wal*Mart

Who know a trip to Walmart could end with my cousin and I laughing so hard we nearly pissed ourselves (okay maybe I let out a drop or so but I would never admit it, wait did I just admit it? Shit, oh well I continue.) Yesterday my cousin and I decided to take a trip around Reno. What I mean when I say this is we were bored and broke and just drove from store to store dicking around and window shopping. We went to the NEW mall and saw a bajillion baby things that we felt like we must have but couldn't afford. Then we got irritated and left there after dragging her daughter away from the shoe department promising her we would go somewhere with shoes we might actually be able to afford and that she could actually wear out. We finally left the land of Coach, Baby Gap, Dillards and so on and arrived at Babies R Us. We wanm,/;'
lked around and around that damn store finding what we were actually looking for the first moment we walked in (A Christmas Dress for her daughter.) Although we came what we looked for we continued we continued wandering looking at this or that and commenting on what we would like if we had another kid. By we I mean me. I wanted this for my future little girl I'm never going to have (husbands genetics will prevent me from having a girl) and I want that for the future little girl I'll never have. I was floating in a cloud of pink and patent leather shiny shoes. It was so not me. We played in the toy isle and wandered to furniture where I purchased a little step stool to help my son climb into my bed with me since that is where he still sleeps (SHUT UP RIGHT NOW I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT.)

Wait didn't this blog start off about Walmart?

So we finished up fairly late at Babies R Us and while walking to our cars we discovered neither of us really felt like going home and ending our mommy baby bonding trip (wow I just sounded so ridiculous.) We look next door. Well more like across the parking lot, and see WALMART. Yesssssss! ! ! ! Lets go there. After all I needed about 15 things off my grocery list and she needed 2 things, dog food and diapers. We decide we will just leave our car where it is and walk like healthy people to Walmart. For those of you who know where this is going I hate you for knowing and not telling me.

We get to Walmart and spend no less then an hour and a half piling my shopping cart with a big bunch of shit. Wait I have my receipt in my car. Okay so I piled my cart with 42 things rather then the barely 15 I needed. 3 of those things were opened because my son realized he was starving half way through the trip. My cousin had maybe 10 things instead of her two. However she did have the biggest bag of dog food I've ever seen I'm guessing about 60lbs with a bonus 5 lbs for the hell of it. We spent about 5 hours waiting in the check out line and were finally on our way. FREEDOM yessss. So we were walking back to our cars and were crossing this little crossing area when my cart got stuck on something. I did what any normal person would do, I shoved it harder. I then verbalized "Why isn't my cart moving?" My cousin thinks about it and says wait I'm stuck too. Again being totally in control of our emotions we did the smart thing. We started pushing and shoving extra hard.


Lets recap. We have me with my son in the cart with gummies stuck all over his fingers, a cart very full with needless junk and I have to pee because its dark and I always have to pee in the dark. Then we have my cousin, with her daughter in her new shoes and an 800 pound bag of dog food and a super deluxe size box of diapers with some other junk. All of this and we are pushing, tugging and shoving our carts to try and get them unstuck from the invisible thing we seem to be stuck on. After a few moments of looking like complete assholes we noticed that there were about 4 sets of bright yellow lines painted across the road, each about 5 feet from the next with little black shopping cars on them. Oh ya there may have been a strike through said shopping cart signs. Hmmmmmm. I GOT IT. Walmart doesn't want us removing their carts so when we crossed the little yellow line this giant magnet drops off and shuts down your wheels. Here comes the amazing part. Even after realizing what we have done wrong and why the cart isn't moving we still don't give up. Our cars are still across the parking lot. So we proceed to push and shove. We try maybe balancing the cart on the front two wheels, the side wheels, the back wheels and so on. We try just plane dragging the carts and try pushing and shoving again. We are laughing so hard we had to hold on to our cart to keep from falling in a fit of giggles on the asphalt. We pause and look around sure that at any moment someone is going to jump out with a camera and declare that we are on some new MTV joke show. Perhaps we've been Punked. Nope no cameras no show no flashy lights. Damn. Finally this lady shows up and gives an super dirty look from her car and says that what we should do is have one person stay behind and watch the cart while the other runs and gets their car and so on. After glaring at us for about 5 minutes she says she learned the hard way the the carts won't move. WAIT WHAT. You are sitting here giving me dirty looks and being a huge jerk to me when you have done this yourself. Wow I had a few obscene words flying through my head.


Finally I unbuckle my son, grab him and take off running for my car. I get him drive over guard my cousins cart while she grabs her daughter and takes off running for her car. We pack up our stuff and are finally on our way. I can't believe no one told me that you can't remove the carts from within a certain radius of the Walmart parking lot. They should put up some kind of sign for all the moms walking from the baby store letting us know that we should get in our cars, drive over to Walmart and repark all because Walmart is to shallow to let us move their carts an extra 60 feet. ASSHOLES. Thanks for nothing. In the end it seems we at least gave the guy who watches the video footage of the parking lot a good chuckle.

Been a while

Its been a while since I posted any pictures of my little monkey so here you go. This one is of Brandon in his toy wagon.

I tried to get a picture of him dumping out all of the blocks but the little turkey was so quick I couldn't catch him. He is insane with blocks. In fact this year I sent out an email requesting that the family please donate money to the Childrens Miracle Network instead of buying my spoiled child more gifts. I added a special disclaimer begging PLEASE NO MORE BLOCKS WITH SHARP EDGES. My feet are so miserable from stepping on them and my back is killing me from the hours I spend picking up said blocks. This year he received at least four sets of blocks all teeny and easly spreadable across a floor.
So here is a picture of Brandon and I at the pumpkin patch. It was his first one ever. IT was pretty cool. he liked to sit on the big pumpkins and throw all the little ones in other peoples wheel barrows, barrols, barol (hmmm no clue how to spell that).


And finally this is my little Superman. He had the cutest little cape that snapped on the back of his outfit and he loved it. My little guy might be the cutest little guy I've ever seen. I love him so much.


Today he started tip toeing around and it is soo funny. If he was a girl I would say he looks like a little princess but what do I say about a boy tip toeing. Anyway he is my life and I am so happy to have had him.

The question of TWO

So Emery wrote about this a few weeks ago and I find it amusing that all new moms seem to always be dealing with the question of two. Don't people know that raising a baby or a toddler is hard enough with out them always bugging you about when you will have another. Its as though the first one wasn't good enough for them. You can't believe how many times I sign on Myspace and see comments asking me when I will be "having another little peanut" or so on. Its frustrating because when I respond that I am not ready or that I maybe never want a second one I am attacked. I get responses like "What, Why, but you make such cute babies, or even You have to have another one." I HAVE to? Says who? If I don't is the world going to come crashing down? Hmmmmm. The problem about this is that with every one bothering me its like I never got to take the time to think about it when I was ready. People kept forcing me to think about it at a time when having a second child seemed preposterous. Because I was being forced to think about it of course my answer was always HELL NO I can't handle two. Or how do you love the second one as much. But as time has gone by and I've been allowed to be alone with my thoughts I have come to see that every mom faces those same questions. I'm sure moms wonder how they can love the fourth child as much as the first three. But people who have twins love both kids and just because they have two at once doesn't mean I can't love two born at different times right? I still don't think I'm ready to speak about this in person but I think I'm finally okay to blog about it. So here goes. I think I'm ready to entertain the idea of a second child. I was an only child and although it had its benefits like being spoiled and having all my moms attention it also had its down falls. Like having all my moms attention. I imagine I would have gotten in far less trouble if I wasn't all she had to concentrate on. I have some apprehensions though. My biggest one is that I bring my son to work with me. While this has been a wonderful experience it has also been very challenging on the days he was teething or cranky for whatever reason because my mom (who I work with) yells at me about how hard it is on her to have him here. So I'm left wondering could I really bring two kids to work. The thing is that I refuse to put my son in day care until he is old enough to speak and tell me what happened while he was there. I know I know go ahead and tell me I'm nuts and that I need to let go a little. Say it all you want and I'll say NO I DON"T he is my baby I don't need to let go at all. So there is my biggest concern. Today at work my son is running around screaming and being very mad at everyone. I can't imagine having that happen at the same time a new born is screaming for food. Really that is my biggest concern. The only other concern I have is whether I will be able to handle it mentally. I'm not going to lie there are times when my son makes me so crazy I want to crawl in a hole and hide, or throw him in a hole. But I always snap out of it and realize how much I love him. After reading a lot of mommy blogs I have started to see that I"m not the only mom out there that gets annoyed with their kid. I have friends who seem to have never experienced the urge to run away from it all and I have friends whose kids have never reduced them to tears from being overwhelmed. Again I find myself wondering if they really tell the truth or if some moms are just more stable then me. So blogger friends I am going to put this out to you. If you have two kids is it worth it. Do you handle it all. Would you do it again? The part that makes me want to have a second kid the most is the fact that I know I can do it better the second time. The second time around I will know that it is okay to put the baby down and let them self sooth. I will know that its okay if they have bottles sometimes instead of alway putting them on the boob. I will know that its okay if they sleep alone and not with me. I want to try again and do it better the second time around. So here are the questions weighing most on my mind

1. Is it okay to have another kid so they have a friend or will he be fine alone

2. Do you really love the second one as much as the first

3. Is it okay if you do things different with the second child, like not bringing them to bed or not breastfeeding as long, or letting them self sooth

4. will doing things different as stated above cause one child to feel less loved because they couldn't sleep in your bed

head, shoulder, knees and NOSE

I remember the day my son found his fingers and the day he found his belly button. The day he found his pee pee was another memory. But last week he found his nose. He didn't point to it, or squish it or mash it, he stuck his finger in it. Awww man. Immediately after he figured out his finger went in his nose he also discovered it went in his mouth. He thinks that the best time to do that is directly after pulling it from his nose. My husband thinks this is great and laughs about it. I know its normal but still only 15 months and already so grown up. But Saturday he hit a whole new level of cute. He was playing with my husband and he got turned up side down and my husband saw that he had a huge booger in his nose. He loudly declared (like always) "Go show this booger to your mom ," (loosely translated, Shannon get the booger cuz I'm to scared to do it.) So I grab him and get into booger picking position and discover that there is no booger. NO there is a piece of toast shoved up there. GREAT even better. When did he do that? I swear one of us was with him the whole time he had the toast. So it goes I now spend my days periodically turning my son upside down to check his nose for random objects. Ahhhh these are the days of my life.

A FAMILY PHOTO PERHAPS