The Bro Beater Look

Since Eva doesn't have a wife, this little shirt is her "Bro Beater" or sometimes her "Sis Beater."

Having been in an abusive marriage once upon a time, I hate that a white tank top on a guy is called a Wife Beater. But I also believe you have to have a sense of humor in life.

If not, you get all dark and twisty and negative and mean and hold onto all the crappy moments of your past.

Crooked House

This is the Ripley's Believe it or Not museum in Branson. It's a little dark, I know ... but you get the idea hopefully. I told Aron we should build a house that looks like this since it's just cool and different. He said to wait a few years ... our house will look identical to this one if the kids keep tearing it up.

Book Excerpt and Deep Thought

This is from “True Mom Confessions”:

“Stay-at-Home Mom. Familial ideal or feminist betrayal. Discuss.”

Being a Gemini, I can see both sides. Also being a Gemini, I’m obviously doing the work-at-home mom thing (against my poor husband’s wishes) so I can have my kids and eat them, too. Wait. That doesn’t make sense. I have my kids and my writing.

If you stay at home and that’s “all” … good for you.

If you have a career … good for you.

If you HAVE TO work and don’t want to … that sucks. Read my articles about making money without hiring a sitter at eHow.com.

Bath Time

The nurse at my doc's office is a hoot. She has a 10-year-old son who won't take a shower, but he sweats a lot and smells. She told me she thinks I'm a good mom and asked if my kids bathe daily. I laughed! Doesn't going to the pool count as a bath?

You know how you always think of stuff later? I should’ve told her, “Just use the ridicule tactic. Like tell him constantly how much he stinks, and when he sits next to you, move and say P.U. and hold your nose and tell him his friends told you in confidence that they think he smells bad.”

I actually told her to do like when you potty-train and give him an M&M every time he showers. Or give him a penny. Yeah, right.

The Latest Doctor Visit

So I go in for my 6-month doctor visit. I love my doctor deeply, but the 40-minute wait I endure every time is getting old. If I didn’t bring along a couple of kids every time, it would be a mini-vacation, but I always bring the littlest kids because I think it’s cool for them to watch the process and hear the heartbeat.

We also kill time by weighing ourselves and exclaiming, “I’m so fat!” Just kidding on that one! We DO weigh ourselves, but I make sure they know it’s just a number and that they are healthy and beautiful. On that topic, I’ve gained 9 pounds so far, but that’s because I was a tad overweight to begin with and don’t need to gain 60 pounds, so don’t hate me. I don’t care about being svelte or thin … I just want to be able to chase my kids around and not be out of breath and have my back hurting!

SO! High heartrate on the kid (boy!) … or maybe it’s because I had my 2nd glucose tolerance test prior to my appointment and I had to fast for it … the poor kid was hopped up on 10 ounces of glucose. Fasting was torture … since the blood-letting wasn’t until almost noon.

THEN … he whips out my latest sonogram report. Turns out the idiot who read the sonogram results and gets like $500 to do so put on the paper that they COULD NOT FIND A SECOND ARM, but they weren’t sure.

Folks, I’ve been to the Kid Fields four times and am goin’ back in. I’m not easily rattled.

So I go, “Okay. Could be worse. Missing an arm. No big deal. I’ll just go back for another sonogram so we can either find the arm or start ordering teeny-tiny prosthetics for like every few months since they grow so fast.”

My doc … God love him … is annoyed at the people who read the results and says he’s called them and they SAID they say another arm but he told them he wants it in writing. I gather up my girls and check out.

On my way out, the nurse catches me and says she called the sono place and they TOLD her that Samwich indeed has another arm. YIPPEE!

Another crisis averted. The relief sent me to Burger King for a Whopper Jr.