Not so good naked

Because I am a bit of a junkie when it comes to my website statistics, I searched to see what were popular searches that led someone to my site.

One was “I saw my mom in a G-string” unless your mom is Heidi Klum, I’m sorry. I was in Brazil and saw lots of unnecessary G strings. If I were the daughter of some of those women, I would remind my mom to use more discretion.

But the question is, when does it become inappropriate. My mom would occasionally prounce around the house in the buff, but really only before a shower when she was distracted. Nonetheless, my brother was uncomfortable. As for my dad in the buff. No thank you. Do not even want to imagine that, or even imagine myself imagining that.

I had a friend in college who told me how her father in the evening would walk around the house in the buff. Whenever the kids had a sleepover, they had to explain to their guests about their dad’s unapologetic evening indulgence. I asked her what she did when she saw her dad on his evening trek to get a glass of water. She shrugged. This was her norm.

Eleven years later she married a divorced 40 plus year old with a daughter. So maybe that experience slipped into her sub conscious after all.

The Ever Evolving Boobs

The size of my boobs have gone up and down like a brown paper bag being used by a hyperventilating neurotic.

At one point they were massive droopy blobs, spilling out of bras and making the loosest shirt somehow tight and provocative. A breast reduction later I had perfect C boobs. The best shirts showed a hint of cleavage while accentuating the rest of my body.

Because I was not being pulled down with unnecessary weight, I began to lose weight and my figure became, let’s face it, smokin’. (That I dated a personal trainer for a few months helped!)

Then my body started to change when something began to grow inside me. Before any part of my body began to shows signs of pregnancy, my boobs inflated. The twins kept growing exponentially like a sea monkey submerged in water. If they continued increasing at that speed for the entire nine months I would have made Jenna Jameson look like an pre-pubescent teenager.

Post baby, those big guys swelled faster than any other part of my body. Shrinking to deflated balloons gripping on to my chest for support.

A good bra makes them look okay but I don’t have the patience for bra shopping when those suckers are probably going to fluctuate yet again. Until then, it’s a tank top with a built in shelf bra* that always works post operation, tight dark jeans and some high heels with a little peek-a-boo toe so my newly pedicured toes can get a little attention too. Now, if I just had a place to go other than a mommy and me class or to the dog run.

*There is a place in hell for the inventor of underwire brassieres. Those b*tches never fit right, always ride against my protruding ribs and tease me with the notion that i too could be supported.

A little dress

We received two fancy shmancy dresses for my baby that just fit her now. I’m afraid she is going to outgrow them in a blink, which she probably will.

I want her to wear them every day because she looks so precious in them. I put one on today for a brunch with my parents and everyone adored it. What am I saving it for? Let her stain that expensive little dress now.

I was tempted to return it to the department store and get a pair of boots that would fit me until the next child caused my feet to swell two full sizes, but my husband said no. Besides the department store is out of the way.

She looks just so damn precious in the dresses. I am such a mom, madly in love with my angel and mesmerized by every little thing she does.

Lemmings

It seems all of these desperate housemoms are so eager to emulate the next person.

One week, a mom showed up at music class looking quite tan. Turns out she paid $60 to have someone airbrush orange paint on her body to create the tan look. She gave everyone in the class all of the details and the next week, there were several orange mommies.

Another mom bragged about how accurate her “tea-leaf reader” is. I am skeptical of all of charlatans who think they can predict the future. They give vague information (you have a big trip coming up, you recently had to make a difficult decision) and read off the person’s expressions for confirmation and then continue making up bs. If it works for you… So this one mom sends out an email inviting other gullible moms over for a tea leaf reading party and blah blah.

I want to participate in socializing with these women but such nonsense makes me lose respect for them and their sensibilities and I don’t want to be a lemming. Lemmings are rodents, after all.

Keeping it short

No double entendre here. I have an opportunity to run out and get a manicure and pedicure, so I am going. But of course I wanted to write for any loyal readers out there (do you exist?? Please say yes, or write a comment).

My husband still does not know about the blog. Probably would not be happy I am broadcasting some frustrations to the internet. Maybe if I was more satisfied, I would not…hmm.

At least my new clothes I bought this past week make me feel sexy. The pilates today reminds me that my body is smokin’ and since coming home (visited with the family last week), we did manage to do it once (with his mother upstairs!). Seems Hubby gets turned on knowing other people are nearby. I just don’t want to move in with my in-laws to keep me satisfied.

Trying to turn my husband on

I have tried to turn my husband on the following ways in the past week.

1. Sent a dirty text message while he was upstairs and I was outside.
2. Hid a g-string in his suit pocket.
3. Sent a dirty email while we were in different rooms and he was blackberrying away.
4. Seductively took off my clothes in front of the mirror while he was in bed.
5. Asked him about the porn-on-demand he has been watching, suggest watching one together.

I’m sure there was more, but once you get shot down on a regular basis by having every advance ignored, you stop keeping a tally.

Because we are so comfortable with each other, I feel confident talking dirty and trying to turn him on. And as comfortable as I am doing that, he is comfortable ignoring me. Lovely set up.

My sister cannot stand how horny her husband is.

It’s not that I even want the physical act of sex, it’s the foreplay and the anticipation and the flirting dance that I find so provocative and enticing.

Sexy Stomach

No matter how flat one’s stomach gets after a baby, there is still a lot of extra skin. Skin that was stretched out to encompass a baby, amniotic fluid, a massive uterus and who knows what else.

I’m proud that my stomach is relatively flat (thank you pilates) but there is still loose skin that scrunches around my abdomen. My obliques are defined, the beginning of a six pack is starting to emerge before my daughter can even crawl, but that skin! No stretch marks, just extra skin gathered together like a slinky on my belly, ready to expand with a new kid or two. No belly button piercings for now.

I stare

Sometimes I just stare at my daughter when she sleeps. So peaceful and content.

I stare at her when she plays with a wooden spoon and shoves it in her mouth.

I just think she is gorgeous and funny and the best.

The other day I brought her to a trendy restaurant for lunch and some cute guys with sexy accents flirted with her. Did I already write this? I just wish someone woud flirt with me!

Lohan Rule

I caught Georgia Rule last night. Lindsay Lohan looked great in some shots, long skinny jeans and high heels tramping around some Idaho town. She talked about sex adn BJs but that was all edited out of the movie. Thanks. I do think Garry Marshall should have taken a hint from Lohan’s notorious absents and late arrivals: edit down the movie. It was not great enough to be two hours.

Still if I ran into Lohan on the street adn she smiled at me, my daughter or my dog, I’d try to strike up a conversation.

Mom Tip: You are Right

Have confidence in your parenting skills. You are the authority of your baby.

When my sister visited for the first time with my baby, she told me a dozen times what I needed to do. *she lives in south america and has full time to help her accomplish the ridiculous To Do list including bathing her child twice a day.

But your parental/maternal/paternal instincts are right. Don’t let anyone challenge you.