Sweet Retirement...

I fantasize about retirement A LOT.  Some have even accused me of obsessing about retirement.  It could be that any time I have a long night on labor and delivery, I mention how close I am to leaving my cares behind and enjoying my golden years without the stresses I currently endure.  One may even go so far as to say I might rub my plans in everyone's faces.  Dr. Jones has told me that he will give me hell every day of my life if I don't meet my goal - just to make me feel bad for making HIM feel bad for how early I want to blow this popsicle stand.  I even downloaded an app to help me keep things in perspective.  Look how close retirement is for me as of today!

 

 

 

That's right suckers - read it and weep.  I'm so close now I can almost taste it!  Given that my attention to detail is impeccable, I have not only planned how I will reach my goal to the last peso, but I have also begun to plan my retirement wardrobe.  I don't want these precious years sneaking up on me and leaving me unprepared from a fashion standpoint.  For many moons I have told the labor nurses that when I retire I'm going to sit around in a giant floppy hat and a bikini and let my fat gut hang over the edges.  I want to create the biggest spectacle possible so that anyone who sees me will pause in a moment of awe and wonder how I managed to pull it off.  Unfortunately, I have realized that I might talk a big game, but there is no way I can sit around all the time in a bikini.  My ample thighs rubbing together without pants in between them to prevent spontaneous combustion just won't work on a long term basis.  Imagine my abdominal apron rubbing on my hips and pubic bone with only a small strip of bikini fabric to ease the chafing!  It just is not feasible people!  I haven't wanted to admit to the nurses that I might be in over my head here because I don't have a viable fashion replacement... At least I didn't have one until today!

 

Driving up to Sam's Club this morning fixed my retirement fashion woes.  What do I spy, but a woman in her 60's in polyester culottes!  I have no idea why I hadn't considered this option before!  Are they a skirt?  Are they long shorts?  No one knows unless your legs are actually moving!  Whoever designed the culotte had a stroke of genius.  Airy, light, versatile - an absolutely perfect choice for retirement attire, especially because they practically scream "fat grandma coming!"  Of course I now only have to consider what I'll wear on top.  God was watching out for me today because I found this in a back issue of the People magazine:

I'm not a lesbian - but figured if I wore this around, it might spark some interesting conversation.  I can only imagine the colorful individuals that might seek me out - especially if a pair of red culottes were swishing around on my bottom half.  Jared told me he would wear a shirt like that if I had it printed for him, but admitted shortly after that a statement like that might actually get him killed.  I'm going to have to ponder this issue a little longer in order to get it just right.  However, I can't wait too long because I only have 14 years, 5 months, and 15 days before retirement!  Anyone have a culotte pattern I could borrow?    

Kids Suck - The Sequel

Today we took the kids to a movie.  It was Cinderella since I very rarely pay to see a new movie anymore.  With five kids, I nearly have to take out a loan to go if we get popcorn along with our flick.  Rexburg actually has a decent discount movie house with cheap concessions.  Since this appeals to my inner tightwad, we went after I visited with my postpartum patient at the hospital.

My two teenagers, as usual, sat on a different row than me because I apparently have cooties.  My babies decided this was their chance for independence and convinced me to let them sit on the front row alone.  What a mistake that idiotic decision became!  Those damn babies ran around, yelled at each other, started playing catch in front of the screen, and eventually spilled their soda all over their clothes.  I tried several times throughout the Johanson Traveling Circus to reign in my spawn, but I eventually gave up.  There were only three other couples in the theater, so I finally convinced myself that this was a chance to show the potentially fertile idiots sitting nearby what happens when the condom breaks.  I felt guilty for like two minutes until I reminded myself it was dark and they wouldn't really know who those kids belonged to!

When the flick was finally over and we headed for home, I took my turn sitting in the back since the stupid 16 year old thinks she always has to drive now.  As I sat wondering if someone spilled liquid farts into my upholstery back there since it always reeks, I finally realized why my younger kids were so despicable today:

And this...

Bubba actually fell asleep on the seat belt!  Even though I had wanted to kill them fifteen minutes earlier, I did this to help Bub's head stop slipping off her pillow...

Oh well, kids can't help being jerks I guess.  At the end of the day I still love my little gremlins and realized I have bigger fish to fry than murdering them for their actions today - I gotta find that missing jar of liquid farts!!

Robot Titties

In my family, we don't die of sissy causes like heart disease, cancer, or strokes.  We have a bunch of fatties that eat what they want and sit around like slugs because there are no consequences to our behavior.  Our preferred method of death for the most part is old age and brains turning into demented tubs of goo.  A few years ago, my dad threw himself down the stairs at his office.  I have often joked he knew that age 90 with a jelly brain lay ahead so he decided to make his escape in his prime.  For his trouble, he got a broken elbow, a ruptured spleen, and a very expensive ICU stay - but not death.  Given that nothing of any consequence or frequency runs in my family, I decided long ago to follow the USPTFS breast cancer screening guidelines and start my mammograms at age 50.

Unfortunately for me, I diagnosed my first case of breast cancer this last week. We've had several cases over the years, but never one of my patients.  It was a little disappointing because I was at Bear Lake when the final report came through so Dr. Lovell did the dirty work and called my patient.  Maybe it's because it was my first case, but the cancer diagnosis really got under my skin.  I decided that I didn't need to be a hero about this whole breast cancer thing.  Maybe I might be the first one in my family to be diagnosed with something really awful and I'd never live to experience the brain goo.  As such, I decided to get a mammo.  I'd had one about 10 years ago for a lump that as usual for me, turned out to be nothing.  I thought I remembered the process, but it was so much more delightful this time around.  I think it's because I've been a healthcare provider so long, that naked bodies are just business.  It was nice to see that everyone else who sees important parts like boobs everyday, feels the same as me!

Given that I always try to make every experience I endure uncomfortable for others, I sent this pic to Tina who works at my office:

It was titled "pre boob squish piss."  I'm not really sure why I started sending bathroom shots to Tina, but because she  laughed once, I will never stop.  I've sent pics of me on johns across this country to her.  Just message me if you want to join a group text of them.

Here's me in my mammo top.  I'm pointing to my boob to remind you why I'm here!  They made me wipe off my deodorant this time which I did not do 10 years ago.  I like to go along with anything that seems weird so I of course did it.  I found out later the deodorant can show up on the films.  BORING!

Then, my tech who was named Natalie, did a great job fondling and positioning my breasts and talking all about how she needed my nipples to point up.  I wanted to tell her "good luck lady, apparently you haven't read my blog!"  However, she was so nice I held my peace for once.  

Then, the big surprise!

Look at that boob!  See my nipple?!  It's amazing how sexy that breast looks when one smashes it into submission!  I told Jared it looked so perky and wonderful that I felt almost dirty about it.  His response?  "It looks like a robot titty!"

I don't have results back, but I didn't see anything irregular and Natalie never stopped talking to concentrate on my films, so I'm guessing I'll get the boring diagnosis I always do:  that everything is negative.  In my sick mind I say: "lose some weight in case you catch something horrible, which you won't, so have another Twinkie!"  I'm not disappointed that the day didn't turn up a young death on my horizon.  After all, I got a thrill looking at my breasts in a new way and had the fact reiterated that "any boob is a good boob" in my lover's mind.  Final message?  Get your mammos ladies!  You'll get more than you bargained for!

Off The Grid

We just got back from our annual family camping trip and due to the unanimous decision of my children, our destination was Bear Lake.  Bear Lake is one of our favorite places to visit; mostly because there is a water source in which to soak our filthy crevices.  This helps to prolong the camping tolerance because you feel somewhat cleaner than you would otherwise.  I personally love camping because it forces my children to interact with each other instead of with technology.  I also adore camping because it is one of the few times I can totally relax because cell phone service is terrible in the mountains so I know no one can bother me.  This year my husband convinced me to leave my phone at home.  It was exhilarating because I realized I CAN survive without my cell and this allowed for ultimate relaxation.  We took very few pics because Jared forgot his charger and given that I wanted to have a phone in the case of an emergency, we left it off for nearly the entire week.  Here we are on day three getting ready to go to the beach for the second time:

 

 

Let me mention that I have not combed my hair since the start of the vacation.  This is a perfect time to mention my family camping rules:

 

1. Brush your teeth morning and night
2. Wash your hands after using the Biffy and before meals
3. Wear your shoes in camp
4. You can pee in the lake but don't you dare poop...
5. Don't eat your campfire boogers

That last rule is because I am convinced that camping boogers are extra crunchy and carcinogenic from the campfire smoke.  I believe there is some viable cancer research wrapped up in this tenet of mine and wish someone would look into it.  I am very strict on number five and find myself yelling, "DON'T EAT THAT BOOGER!" a lot to my younger kids.  In fact, my eight year old popped a particularly black specimen in her beak after I yelled at her and she said, "You saw me eat that?!"  Hell yes I saw it you disgusting little girl...  I digress...  Given that my rule list while camping is very short, it makes for some VERY slovenly behavior among the camping family.  I believe this to also be the inherent charm of this particular family outing.  It allows children to be completely unfettered by any adult expectations and allows their immune systems to develop properly as they experiment with foul food, drink, and behavior choices.  Need examples?  My daughter and nephew ate melted chocolate from a stick they swirled into a pile from the ground when some dropped during S'mores time - complete with dirt and hair.  The same nephew made dares to his cousins and had them eating burnt food from the campfire ashes while he munched on twigs and leaves.  All the kids had dirty faces every day.  It seemed like an exercise in futility to wash them given that within a few hours we would be bathing in the lake again and they could rinse them there.

 

Despite being off the grid, I found that I didn't need pictures to document my vacay because the same scenario plays out every year on the beach.  The only thing that changes in all my pictures are the ages and number of children present.  The scenario plays out as follows:

1.  My lovely spouse with his large white belly and epic farmer's tan sits on an inner tube in the sand wearing his bucket hat like a crown and surveying the water like a king looking over his domain
2. The kids dig a hole to China
3. We spend some time floating on tubes and tipping each other over
4. I yell at everyone when we get back to camp when I notice how poorly I applied sunblock to everyone and promise to do better tomorrow
5. Drive back to the lake the next day and repeat 

Of course, sitting on the beach is another excuse to let the kids run wild because I estimate they eat three pounds of sand with their lunch every day.  I haven't asked any of them, but I bet they poop out premade sand castles when we get home.

 

My brother in law showed up to hang with us and if you think his presence would encourage me to behave then you would be wrong.  Dead wrong.  In fact, he caught me doing something that drives my mom CRAZY!

 

 

I know it looks like I might be flipping off my sweet lover but the bird was indeed intended for Aaron.  Can we also give a shout out to said lover who is a boss at roasting mallows even though he doesn't really like them and doesn't even eat S'mores?

 

Judge me for my lack of decorum if you wish, as usual I just don't care.  If you think for one second I am damaging my family, just look at the only other pic I took.  Even on the last day leaving, look how happy everyone still is!  Also, note my nasty hair and the dark spot near my nose.  I have NO idea what the heck that might be.  I also have no idea how long it was there since it was only the second time I saw my face all week.  

 

 

Yep, it was a successful trip as usual.  I am back on the grid and have settled in nicely with my phone again.  My children are clean and normal house rules apply.  My nephews did not die despite the fact that my sister expects them to every year.  The only problem is my lack of daily S'mores and... excuse me will you?  I think I feel a sand poop coming on...   

Obsession

Dexter the three legged cat has been missing for a week.  This has been rather upsetting for my father given that he has lost one of the objects of his obsession.  Thankfully, he has a revolving and seemingly unlimited supply to keep his life running smoothly.  His two latest?  Tide sticks and ABBA.  He keeps a small army of Tide sticks around to take care of any embarrassing spills that might occur in his daily routine.  My solution?  Finish wearing your clothes and wash them at the end of the day like someone without OCD might do.  If my clothing becomes overly soiled, I might even change clothes, but Tide sticks and other similar inventions seem like a huge waste of money to me.  Given that most people don't want to be weird alone, he has tried to suck my mother into his eccentricities.  Anytime she spills something down her front like old people are highly likely to do, he rushes to her aid with a Tide stick.  Mom refuses to humor many of his idiotic ideas, but she has given this one an opportunity to work.  Unfortunately for dad, she was not impressed because she feels like it just spreads the mess over a larger area.  Like me, my mother prefers to wander around like a slob until she removes her clothes for the day.  My daddy, as usual, won't let a few wise naysayers destroy his excitement.  Here he is at our Fourth of July BBQ.  Notice the Tide Stick in his pocket?  He dropped food on his shirt three or four times during the meal, would nonchalantly put down his fork, whip out his Tide stick, wash away his embarrassment, and continue eating.

  

This leads me to his second and certainly more annoying current obsession:  ABBA.  More specifically, the video Waterloo by ABBA.  Don't misunderstand me.  I actually really like ABBA.  I love the musical Mamma MIA and have owned several of their greatest hits albums.  To tell you the truth, I was surprised my dad even knew who ABBA was given that his taste in music is rather limited.  His music collection consists of every song ever sung by the Beatles, a smattering of Simon and Garfunkel, some Peter Paul and Mary, and a bit of Johnny Cash.  He owns a few other gems but they aren't worth mentioning because he listens to them so much it makes me sick to ride in the car with him.  Hence, you might be able to imagine how surprised I was when I heard him listening to some ABBA about a week ago.  Surprised - until I found out it was the Waterloo video he was watching.  At that point I was convinced it was just one of his little jags he gets on and my suspicions were confirmed when he watched the video OVER AND OVER AND OVER about ten times while I was there.  True to form, after the Fourth of July BBQ was over, he pulls out his phone and begins watching Waterloo.  I began to ridicule him in front of everyone which is why he is smiling a bit in the pic.  My ridicule was an attempt to convince him to cease and desist with ABBA, but alas, a few minutes later while he was washing dishes, I caught him at it again:

He left to run some errands before the fireworks and when he got back he was upset about something.  I told him I could cheer him up.  I should have had Waterloo ready to go because by the time I had it pulled back up on YouTube, he had flipped me off a dozen times and my siblings already knew what I was up to.  Therefore, I missed the element of surprise and didn't even get to take any pics of his bird flying.  Oh well, I sure hope Dexter comes back soon because if I have to listen to Waterloo one more time, I might find a new and unusual use for a Tide stick that the manufacturers never saw coming and that I'm pretty sure my dad WON'T develop an obsession for... 

My Lovely Lady Humps

I am getting excited to roast like a tubby bratwurst in the sun this weekend as I celebrate Independence Day.  In preparing for the holiday, my week was hectic and the babies, as usual, just kept coming.  After a really long day I came home to find this:

Kayley apparently donated a couple of old bras to these little weirdos.  Remember that Kayley has large and beautiful boobies.  To be specific, she is a voluptuous D  (Refer to my What a Rack Post).  I was surprised to find that she didn't just send them to the second hand store and was even more surprised how much Emma and Lily thought they had stumbled on some sort of rare treasure!  They wore their fake titties for hours.  I ate dinner across from two well-endowed elementary school children as they giggled about their day.  They went outside and climbed my trees with them.  They dug in the garden awhile with them.  Essentially, they worked these suckers into their daily routine.  At about 9, I needed to go to the store and decided they needed to remove their accoutrements.  Let me make it very clear that I would have had no embarrassment walking all over town with these two and their stuffed boobies.  I try to foster weird and eccentric behavior in my children anytime I see it appear.  However, I was worried someone might think we were shoplifting in the store and didn't want them to have to pull up their shirts to prove their innocence.  Thus, I shouted something I later regretted:  "Emma and Lily, take off your bras so we can go to the store!"  Two seconds later I said something worse:  "Wait!  Take off your shirts so I can take a picture of what you have in your bras!" 

Well, at least they are effective problem solvers.  And yes, as soon as we got home from the store, the fake boobies were back in play.  Man I love my kids!