Monday, November 17, 2008

Trend alert

I've been noticing a new trend lately. It's something that I've noticed most recently pop up everywhere I look. Ready for it? I know you're excited. Fancy yard sale signs.

I don't know who started it, but why do people have to get so intense about peddling their wares. Laser printed on cardstock paper with bright, bold backgrounds to let the letters pop. Back in the day my mom would tell me to rip apart a box and write a couple of signs up for her in to hang around the neighborhood. I would get out my favorite black magic marker just write 'yard sale' in my 5th grade scrawl. Simple as Corky from Life Goes On.

How does that even become a trend?

I guess you've gotta spend money to make money.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

The life and times

It's no secret that I never wanted to be a worker in the baby making business. All my plans got...postponed, for lack of a better word. It still blows my mind that I have been put in charge of two mini people to mold and shape to grow up to be a somewhat decent human being. I know, it's been a little over 11 years and I should be over it by now, as my sister likes to state. But I feel the whole situation, as I've said before, is way beyond my maturity level. So it still weirds me out.

I like to live a sort of double life. I have my pta mom life and my single almost 30 life. The latter in which I like to party, have casual sex with hot guys and sometimes get high. The pta mom life keeps me busy helping plan the school's Family Fun Festival night, making eggs & toast for breakfast and making sure they bathe regularly and brush their teeth. Most of my friends actually forget I even have kids and any boys, with the unfortunate exception of a couple, have not or never will meet them. So it always catches me by complete surprise when I catch myself checking on them multiple times in the night to make sure they're still breathing, staring lovingly down at them as they sleep peacefully, pushing hair behind their little ears and pulling the covers up to their chins. I think, "how amazing to have created that life." Then the sun rises and I'm stirred out of sleep by Shawn telling Naia that she's a big, fat gorilla head as she chucks the nearest object at him while calling him a *beep*, which is their way of cussing at each other. At which point I pull the covers over my head and wish I was on the beach in San Diego drinking a margarita with my friends and some hot dudes. Reality's a bitch.