Category Archives: Diapers

The dirty side of motherhood.

Beauty, self-esteem, and laugh-out-loud hilarity

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I love Dave Barry.  Have you ever read any of his stuff?  He is FUNNY.  At Women’s Conference, Renata Forste gave a really, really good talk (click here to read it), wherein she quoted this Dave Barry column exploring the differences between the ways that men and women measure and value appearances.  It was so funny that I may have laughed a little bit over-the-top irreverently.

If you’re a man, at some point a woman will ask you how she looks.  “How do I look?” she’ll ask.  You must be careful how you answer this question.  The best technique is to form an honest yet sensitive opinion, then collapse on the floor with some kind of fatal seizure. Trust me, this is the easiest way out.  Because you will never come up with the right answer.

The problem is that women generally do not think of their looks in the same way that men do.  Most men form an opinion of how they look in seventh grade, and they stick to it for the rest of their lives.  Some men form the opinion that they are irresistible stud muffins, and they do not change this opinion even when their faces sag and their noses bloat to the size of eggplants . . . . Continue reading →

Just in case you thought YOUR children were crazy…

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Because I have no pride, I sometimes let my kids do videos with me while I’m still in my pajamas with bedhead.  Clark’s been obsessed with the music I burned to give to my Zumba teacher, so he asked if he could make a movie of us dancing to it.

We tried.  I think I need a Tylenol.

p.s.  I already know this room is trapped in 1970s purgatory. It’s my least favorite room in the house.  Someday we’ll fix it.

The post I’ll wish I didn’t write tomorrow

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*This post is mostly for therapeutic purposes and does not claim to offer anything constructive, inspirational, or even useful.  In other words, read at your own risk.

I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

Actually I woke up in the wrong bed this morning.  I had to sleep down in the basement because while I stayed up late working on some stuff for my calling, Clark got out of bed about 20 times.  Against all my fire-breath wishes, my husband let him get into our bed, which is where I found him at midnight.  He is the heaviest kid on the planet.  And he sleeps in a top bunk.  And I was way too tired to try to pull off the the hefting and heaving (and possible bad words under my breath) that would probably be required to relocate him.  I maybe could have woken up Matt to help except that, oh, that’s even harder than moving Clark.

My kids are sleeping horribly.  IS ANYONE ELSE HAVING THIS PROBLEM?  I don’t know if it’s the daylight savings, longer day issue or what, but even when I put them to bed on time, they are playing and tossing and turning and not falling asleep for a couple hours. And THEN, they’re getting up earlier and earlier.  I’m talking about times that kindle my wrath, like BEFORE 6 a.m.

Remember that video I linked to a little while back?  The one where the comedian (I mean WISE, WISE man) said, “Sleep deprivation in a mother leads to murder.”?  Well.  It’s not as hilarious as it was a week ago. Continue reading →

If a blogger falls down in a forest of bloggers, does she have a voice?

Posted in About Blogs, Diapers, Divinity by

I haven’t been producing many quality posts lately, and I have no real reasons except that life has seemed a little busy.  And when life is busy, my brain goes a tiny bit frenzied and most of the stuff I have to say is barely comprehensible, much less inspirational.

Oh, I did start taking a Zumba class at my gym.  It’s an exercise class that’s kind of a cross between latin dancing (which I love, mostly because I really like latin music) and jazzercise (or whatever those dancy-type cardio workout classes are called).  Anyway, it’s kind of fun even though it makes muscles that I’ve never even met before cry out in pain for several days at a time.  And it’s also fun if you don’t consider the fact that I look like the biggest, most ridiculous, uncoordinated fool this side of the Tex-Mex border.  Continue reading →