Tag Archives: Laughter

What you NEVER say or ask a mom of multiples (or ANY mom for that matter)

18 Sep

This is a real conversation that took place at Costco today:

Lady: Ahhh, are they twins?

Me: Yes.

Lady: Both girls? (Hints the reason they are wearing dresses and giant bows in their hair)

Me: Yes.

Lady: Wow, they don’t look-alike! (Now, she wants to become observant”

Me: No, they don’t.

Lady: Do they have the same father? (Insert crickets here)

Me: Okay, have a nice day.

And with that, her Q&A session was over.

I know that I always joke around about some of the questions, comments and advise I have been given over the last 13 years, but what I am about to write here is by no means a joke. In fact, if you are one of the people who feels that it is your God-given duty to stop every pregnant woman or mom pushing a stroller and ask her questions, let me make this VERY clear… IT IS NOT. In fact, just as soon as you are out of her sight… She is cursing the fact that she ever met you and your barrage of questions. Trust me, I do it almost every time I take the twins out in public!

So, I am here to help you. Yes, that is right. I am here to ENSURE that you are never cursed but rather praised by moms everywhere. To do this, I have created a little “guide” of things you are to NEVER ask another mom, expecting mom, woman or even a turtle. But if you are like my mother, and you always feel compelled to talk, I have added what you SHOULD SAY. (Please note, all the questions and comments I am writing about, have been asked or has been told to me over the last 13 years. And because I have two sets of twins, most of these are geared toward multiples.)

DISCLAIMER: I personally feel that you should simply smile and keep on walking anytime you see a random stranger!!! Remember “Stranger Danger?” (just saying’)

Ok, here we go.

Never EVER under ANY circumstances ask following:

* When are you do? I mean really why do you care? Unless you are planing on buying her a gift or bringing her dinner after she delivers her bundle of joy… it is not your concern. And what if she is not pregnant? Ouch. Keep walking.

* Did you have them vaginally? This one is always a favorite, because every unnecessary question requires an unnecessary and uncomfortable answer. No, I gave birth through my BUTT.

* How long were you in labor? Because this is usually followed by a story about your labor experience… don’t go there. Most moms (especially with multiples) dread going out… have VERY limited time… and have no idea who you are, so your labor story is pointless on every level.

*Are you nursing? Only if you are willing to help out and lend an extra boob should you ask this one. If not, then IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!!!

* Did you conceive naturally or have “help?” Unless she is “Mary” something tells me she had help one way or another, so save yourself from getting the “She deserves the STUPID card”… and never ask this one please!

*Were you trying to get pregnant or was this a surprise? Again, why would anyone care? How is knowing this going to make you a better person after you get the answer? EXACTLY.

* (When there are two) Are they twins? Okay, if they look like they might be the same age… are dressed alike… or have shirts on that say, “Thing 1” and Thing 2” common sense is going to tell you, YES they are probably twins. (Most fraternal twins do not look-alike. So again, use your brain and just observe the above noted hints, this might help you conclude, yea, they shared a womb, but look different.)

* Do you have a boy and a girl? Or if there is just one… is it a boy or a girl? USE YOUR EYES! Here are some helpful ways to determine the sex of the child… If they have earrings… probably a girl. If they have a bow in their hair, or in my kid’s case, glued to their head… probably a girl. If they are wearing a shirt that says, “Daddy’s little man” or “Mommy’s big boy”… probably a boy. If they are dressed in yellow, green, or grey and do not have earrings, a bow, or a lot of hair… don’t ask at all… that one is a hit or miss and I say when in doubt… just keep walking.

* Are they identical? If you were dumb enough to ask the question noted above, and the patient parent was kind enough to answer, and tells you one is a girl and one is a boy… use the process of elimination… they are not identical. If they are both the same sex, but look nothing alike, again… process of elimination. Just save yourself the shame.

* Do they have the same father? Ok, really? I don’t think I need to explain this one… but hey, if you are dumb enough to ask that; ask if they have the same mother too.

* Are you planning on having anymore children or are you finished? Again, unless this information is going to be life changing for you personally… why do you care? You are wasting time that poor mother can never get back.

BONUS TIPS: Here are just a few comments that most moms of twins really don’t care about or need to know!

* I am a twin. Good for you. You deserve a gold star.

* My mom’s grandma’s neighbors daughters friend… has twins. Well gosh darn, wish I could welcome her to the club.

* Oh you have “Double Trouble.” Thanks for pouring salt on an open wound!

* Your poor husband. Screw You!

*I bet you never sleep. You’re right I don’t. I am a vampire with insomnia.

* Wow, you look really good for just having a baby (or babies) I know many think this is complimentary, but it is not! In fact, it just a reminder that we have a “you just had a baby/babies” body.

* You are so blessed. Yes, any parent is, but when you are beyond sleep deprived, wearing the same outfit for three days in a row, smell like poop while draped in spit-up, and can’t really hear what you are mumbling because the echos of screaming are ringing in both ears… blessed is not the word we feel and really just want to punch you in the face 🙂

Now, what TO say:

NOTHING

How about you just open the door for her when you see her struggling to maneuver the big ol stroller with a screaming baby or babies inside and then kindly nod and KEEP WALKING. This my friend, (AND MY MOM,) will speak volumes. It will say that you actually DO know someone with twins or a baby, and they have given you the “guide-book” and you have followed it. It will say you respect her privacy and that you have your own life and don’t need to be a “Nosey Nancy.” So, unless a mom starts a conversation with you… be her hero, and just let her get in and out of wherever she is.

One day I will write a book and possibly take my act on the road. Until then, I will keep educating people (MY MOM) with comedy and charm. And for the over sensitive reading this… I am only kidding. I LOVE all your questions and comments, and your advise… is priceless. HA HA HA

Many Blessings~Summer

This is a picture taken today… and I think Reese’s expression sums up her’s and my frustration to the
Father comment. Love it!

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When you REALLY need a good hard laugh… just read about FARTING!

5 Sep

Last night, while casually checking out the latest gossip on Facebook, I came across a link that one of my good friends had posted. The title alone captured my attention: “The fart that (almost) altered my destiny.” I had to  read this one, so I clicked the link and was taken to a website that is now bookmarked on my computer.

As I began to read, I had to put the TV on mute so I could share with my husband. I knew he would totally appreciate this one. Within seconds the tears were streaming down our faces and neither of us could contain the laughs coming from our belly. I don’t care how old, educated, or classy you *think* you are, when someone is talking about farting… you KNOW you laugh.

I absolutely love finding websites that are just funny and make fun of the things that happen in life. Let’s be honest, life can be very humorous at times, so why take it so seriously? So, enjoy the story and make sure you check out the website for a daily dose of humor!

 http://hahasforhoohas.com

Like everything in life, farts have a time and place.  However, I never realized that in the wrong time and place, flatulence had enough power to alter my course in history.  Well, it can if it’s the third date with the man of your dreams.  And, if it makes his eyes burn.  If God destined us to be together, I was one SBD away from foiling His plans (that’s “Silent But Deadly” for you prudes).

It was about five years ago.  I was trying to lose a few pounds so I was staying away from carbs.  That’s when I met my husband, Rob.  On our first date, he booked the next two.  He liked me.  I liked him.  Things were looking real good.

He picked me up in a Cobra, Mustang and his pathetic attempt to win me over with a car totally worked.  I’m not shallow, but since I spent most of my twenties picking men up because I didn’t want my hair to frizz in their non-air conditioned jalopies on 3 wheels and a 15-year-old spare, I welcomed his fancy sports car with open arms.

We arrived at the restaurant and Rob was ordering food I hadn’t allowed myself to eat in years. I didn’t want to be “that girl” so I ate, drank, and oh, was I merry.  Later we shopped a bit. Rob surprised me by buying an expensive pair of shoes that he caught me eyeing.  Was this love?

That’s when it happened.  Gas strikes in two different ways – uncontrollable toots or sharp, shooting pains that feel a lot like dying.  I thought I was dying.  Not to make a scene, I told Rob I suddenly wasn’t feeling well and probably needed to head home.

On the way home in his Cobra, he tried to hold my hand and ask me lots of questions, but I wasn’t having any of it.  The pain was so bad it felt like I was being stabbed with a bunch of tiny forks.  Then I realized …

My God, help me.  I have a horrendous fart on deck.  I’m in trouble.  Big trouble.

The more I held it in, the more pain would shoot through my stomach and down my legs.  I was even having to raise myself off the seat, gripping on to my door and the dashboard.

“Seriously, you need to hurry – I’m in a lot of pain.” I managed to say through gritted teeth.

“Wow, it’s that bad?  What’s wrong? Do I need to take you to a hospital?”

How do you tell a man you just started dating that the reason you’re writhing in pain is because you have to fart?

Well, you can either tell him, or like me, let the fart speak for itself.

People, hear me.  There was nothing I could do.  As impressive as I am with sphincter control, this was out of my hands.  Slowly, it eeked out.  The more I tried to stop it, the more it forced its way through the door.  However, to my pleasant surprise, there was no sound.  I sat silently, sweat accumulating above my upper lip.  Ok, maybe I got away with it.  Maybe I’m home free.  Then it hit me.  Not an idea, a cloud.  A horrific, fart cloud.  Not in a, “am I smelling something?” sort of way.  More like a “is someone dead and rotting in your trunk and am I in hell?” sort of way.

Suddenly, I panicked.  “Roll down the windows!” I screamed (yes, I literally screamed it like I was in a horror movie).

“What? Why?” Rob asked, starting to freak out because I was freaking out.

“I can’t roll down the windows, unlock it!  UNLOCK IT!”

“What’s going on?” Rob yells back to me, “Why are you …” then it hit him.  I could see it in his eyes.  Was it surprise?  Horror? Water started to accumulate at the base of his eyelids, “Oh my God, I CAN TASTE IT!” he screamed.

“Roll down the windows!”  As I screamed, the toots started to flood out uncontrollably.  I scratched and clawed at the window like I was being kidnapped.  Rob, unable to see either by fart cloud or panic, kept turning on the windshield wipers instead of unlocking the window.

It was chaos.  We were acting like we were under siege by gun fire.  We were under siege alright, just not by gun fire.

Finally he was able to hit the right control and he rolled down our windows.  We both gulped in fresh air.  I was horrified, yet happy to be alive, then remembered I just farted on the man of dreams, then sorta wished I was dead.

We sat silently for the rest of the way home.  Although the shooting pains had subsided, I now desperately needed to use the bathroom, in an urgent, explosive kind of way.

He pulled up to my apartment and before he could come to a stop I had already jumped out, “Ok, thanks for dinner, sorry about the fart, love the shoes!” and ran in to my apartment like I was running from the cops.

I burst through my door and ran straight for the bathroom, where I was finally able to unleash and make noises that no one should ever, EVER, hear coming from another person.

Then I heard it.  Rob’s voice.  Right.  Outside.  My.   Bathroom.  Door.

“Anna?  You left your shoes in my car and your front door was open.  Where do you want me to put them?”

“Get away from the door!” I scream like Reagan from The Exorcist.

“Ok, I’m sorry.  Are you okay?”

*toot* *toot* *splatter* *ungodly noise*

“I’m fine, Rob – just leave the shoes there.  I’ll call you later okay?”

“Okay, are you sure you’re …”

“I’m fine!  Get away from the door!”

This man!  I mean, I love him, but take a freakin’ hint!

Finally, I heard the front door shut, and the Cobra engine zoom away.  I thought that was the last I’d hear from him.  I didn’t think it was possible to ever see a man again after he screams he can taste your fart after only knowing you for 48 hours.

But, to my surprise, I did.  A couple of days later, actually.  Now we’re married and he’s lying on the couch while I type this … “It was your rack that saved you,” he just lovingly reminded me.

Well, thank you boobs.  You saved us.  You saved our destiny.

Is it Contagious?

23 Aug

 

 

Contagious (adjective): tending to spread from person to person.

 

 

My husband I were laying in bed on what had to have been a very long day. I have absolutely no idea what was said or done but all of a sudden I started laughing. It was not just a regular, “that was funny” kind of laugh, it was a full belly, tears flowing, could not stop kind of laughter. Within seconds, I look over and he was laughing just as hard. This went on for several minutes  and finally as we both began to come off the “laughter train” I asked him why he was laughing. He looked at me and said, “Because you were.”

We all know that laughter is contagious. We don’t really know why, but it is. I also think that if we take this a step further, we realize that almost everything can be considered contagious, or as dictionary.com puts it, spread from person to person.  For example, I used to work with a lady who was very depressed. Whenever she was in the office she brought with her this gloom or negativity. It was amazing how fast the entire “vibe” in the office would change when she entered it. I also worked with another lady who has very positive, fun, happy and laughed a lot. When she was in the office the “vibe” was just like she was, positive.

Our attitude is contagious to those around us. Our kids, spouse, co-workers and friends,  are prone to catch what ever we are spreading around.  So the question than becomes, “What are people catching from me?” I know that we are not always going to be happy and in a good mood. Life just doesn’t work that way, but even in the times when things are not going great or we find ourselves in a “funk,” I believe we still have the ability to spread positivity by having an attitude that is uplifting and encouraging to those around us.

Now, go out there and “spread a little cheer.” 😉 (insert corniness here)

Blessings, Summer~

 

 

 

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