It’s Friday, the sun is shining, and snow is in the forecast. Yowza! I promise to return to my regularly scheduled writing, but I found some funnies worth sharing. Ms. Uggs is getting a lot of bad press lately what with her driving her SUV with her baby on her lap while fleeing the evil paparazzi. What’s next? Eating Cheetos and chuggin’a Colt 45 in a brown paper bag while driving with Sean Preston on her lap? Speaking of Cheetos, I found this hilarious link on Gallery of the Absurd that pokes fun at Britney’s obsession with Cheetos. (Read on …)

When I was a little girl I collected stamps. My brother (older by seven years) collected stamps and for me it was a hobby that grew out of my fascination with his collection and my desire to do cool things like big brother. Helene at Adventures in Parenthood has a post and quiz about these awesome new stamps featuring animals from well-known classic children’s books.

Dear Pottery Barn Kids:

Please refrain from sending me e-mails about your fab Easter collection in FEBRUARY when I have yet to commit to the sign-up sheet for my 3-year-old’s Valentine’s Day party. You are only fueling my slacker mom insecurities by reminding me I have failed, yet again, to purchase monogrammed basket liners for each holiday.

Signed,

A Mom Who Can Only Deal With One Holiday at a Time

I was signing Caitlin into daycare Tuesday and her teacher asked if Caitlin had told me what happened the day before. I was in a caffeine withdrawal/low-sugar stupor but that got my attention. “No, what happened?” I asked, instantly turning into CONCERNED ATTENTIVE MOMMY although I know my daughter all too well and I figured it was probably something comical. Apparently my sweet precious angel had smuggled a small pebble from the playground and then skillfully wedged it in her left nostril at nap time, just for grins. Luckily she found it none too comfy and she told her teacher who kept her cool and skillfully avoided a trip to the ER by handing Caitlin a tissue and asking her to blow her nose. The pebble emerged from it’s dank, dark home lickety split. Her teacher had even wrapped the evidence in plastic (it was clean, thank you) and put it in a plastic baggie so she could show me. Caitlin has a thing for rocks. She had just collected a few small ones Sunday during a trip to the park with the hubby and then turned all HGTV on me and insisted on adding the rocks to the bottom of her fish’s tank. She loves to collect rocks, but the inserting a souvenir pebble up the nose is a new trick and hopefully one she will never do again. Whew.

Mrs. Flinger has pimped me! I am honored. She is a hoot, as we say in the South, and a talented blog designer/cool geeky Mac girl/and mama to an adorable little girl. Go see for yourself. She may live in a land far, far away from BlondeMomBlogville, but she and I are like blog sistahs.

Should grown women wear sweat pants with cutesie words embroidered across the bottom? (no, definitely not me, but observed by me at the grocery yesterday) At least her hair wasn’t up in pigtails.

If you get up an hour before your children wake you really can get ready for the day and have dinner prepped in the slow cooker!

Why is it when you are finally not pregnant or nursing you receive zero invites for New Year’s Eve or Super Bowl parties?

Why is it that only one out of every six baggers at Kroger actually asks if you need help with your groceries?

Do people really buy the vegetable and fruit wash in the spray bottle you see in the produce section? (Call me crazy, but I usually wash mine with just plain water.)

Any woman who has birthed a babe and had their breasts balloon to frightening proportions knows that the ole mammaries just ain’t what they used to be after such stretching and eventual deflation. The 2006 model of moi is a bit more relaxed, shall we say, and I don’t mean mentally. For weeks I’ve been eyeing these colorful bras in my dresser drawer that I bought in the last months of my pregnancy with Miss A. They were on sale at Target and well, you know, I can’t resist a sale and I needed a little color in my life and Lord knows a pregnant woman needs colorful underwire bras that could double as pool flotation devices. Seriously, I could use them as chip and dip holders. I just can’t seem to toss them but there is no way in heck I will ever be able to fill those puppies out again. After two pregnancies and breastfeeding two babies, my breasts may disappear into my ribcage when I lie on my back, but by God they were workhorses back in the day!

This week I made my weekly trek to TJ Maxx (because I am a closet TJ Maxx addict). They had all these lacy pretty things on clearance and I picked out about 60 bras to try on thinking at least one would fit. I found one I really liked that was comfy to boot. I wore it last week and it was like my girls had gone from riding in a VW Bug to a jacked-up monster truck…they were so perky! If my boobs were a passage in a book it would have BEEN IN ALL CAPS! Of course part of the illusion of perkiness was the fact that I was wearing one of those fitted lycra blend shirts (you know the kind…a size women’s small would fit my 3-year-old). Any way, all day I was self-conscious about my chest and its newfound perkiness. I felt like everyone was looking at me and wondering where the heck those came from. Yeah, right.

Me: Caitlin, would you like your hair up in a ponytail? (as she’s getting ready to go to the local animal shelter with the hubby)
Caitlin: No, the dogs will eat it mommy.
Note: She’s obsessed with puppies lately so the hubby thought she’d like to visit the shelter. This may or may not be a good idea when she realizes she can’t take one home. We are so not getting another dog.

But mommy I can’t eat a turkey dog. Turkey dogs are for breakfast. (This girl can rationalize anything.)

When I get bigger can I do that?
(Watching with fascination as the hubby cleans the bathtub drain.)