I fear this story may mean I’ve earned cougar stripes (or should I say spots?). I mean, there was no official “welcome to the club,” but I find myself wearing more animal print spandex, my gel nails are abnormally long, and I do let out a sigh when I see a meme of Ryan Gosling, so I think all the signs are there.
It was the summer of 2009, my daughter was about to turn 5 and though we were pretty sure she was destined to be a landlubber. We had tried swim lessons since she was 6 months old — again and again. We took classes. We took private lessons. We switched instructors, and offered rewards. I had made one last appointment, vowing that if this failed, I’d simply keep the baby fence around the pool until she left for college. Continue reading →
Well, since we established in yesterday’s Magic Mike post, that I’m possibly addicted to “Mommy Porn” and Channing Tatum’s abs, I thought I’d write some ecards to commemorate the occasion.
Not that finding out you might be addicted to porn or abs, is an occasion, but, it’s a while until my birthday, so why not celebrate? I’ll pay for it later with a 12 step program that hopefully involves full immersion therapy. Or maybe I’ll have to apologize to all the abs I’ve coveted in the past, which would totally suck, but I guess recovery is never an easy road.
The Christian Grey | 50 Shades Ecards are back… by popular demand. These are based on the article, What it Would REALLY be Like to be Married to Christian Grey, which takes a glimpse into what the Grey’s life might look like after years of marriage and children. But let’s face it, everything looks better in an ecard. So, here you go — Fifty Shades in the Future (insert wavy lines to imply future montage here)…
Before having children, I had no idea how much of a control freak I actually was. Yes, I always had the anxiety part, but even that grew 10 fold. My hubby and I lived in an apartment in NYC, where he was able to mask his inability to do simple household things like, change lightbulbs, hang pictures… use a screw driver. We had people to do that. Yes, the maintenance men were my BFFs — a small tip and they were caulking or hammering away.
Then we had kids and moved to the ‘burbs, where I realized that not only was my hubby not the type to do stuff around the house. I was not the type to delegate. My anxieties and need for perfection made his work seem incomprehensibly inferior. (The cause of many an argument)