It’s suppose to be a Martian Matters guy with a runny nose.

It looks more like he’s lactating to me!

Food, wine, massages, etc?

How about watching practically nekkid men getting spray-tanned?!

Yes, maam!  And for the record, they were no George Clooney, but entertaining all the same.

Last night I went out with some friends to a “Ladies Nite Out” affair.  It was being hosted by 417 Magazine.  It was a night of pampering.  They had a plastic surgeon there, a varicose vein doctor, lots of wine and cocktail tastings, furs to try on, a fashion show, and of course the male tanning booth.  It was really fun and the gals I went with were a hoot.  But obviously I couldn’t quite get over the orange men.

I mean really.  How cocky can you be to stand in a room full of women, aged 30–50, with nothing but your red boxer briefs on and let some chicky-mama spray tan on you?  One dude had a ton of purple in his hair, if that tells you anything.  Wait…my son has a purple streak in his hair…*shudder*.

All in all 417 did a great job on the party and I had SO much fun…just some random, weird dreams.

I don’t know, but for fun you should find out what your habit is.  My friend, Ninker sent this site to me this past weekend. It was really fun!  You pick from a bunch of photos to depict your thoughts about a certain topic.  Then “they” put it all together and give you your Visual DNA.

Some of it’s just plain goofy…like they said I have a “romantic” side.  Me?!  Ya’ll!  C’mon now.…

Hi.  You might not remember me, but I bet your “fellas” do!

I feel I need to apologize and explain my horribly rude behavior to you every time you came to flirt with me.  See I was 11 years old and I thought you were the cutest boy in school, so obviously that meant kicking you in the nardies every time you came around.

See, I had just learned that boys can get hurt if “racked” real good.  At age 11, it was an amazing concept that I could crush a guy with a mere toe tap.  Why I chose to try it out again and again on you I really don’t know…some strange hormonal thing, I’m sure.  Plus you were so kind and would just smile, walk away until your color came back and tried talking to me a different way. I SO hope you didn’t have weird relationships later because of my strange hormonal period of life.

Now that I have an 8-year-old I’m scared to death that he might succumb to the same treatment I gave you. I’m hoping that in some way the elementary god’s will find my apology as a sacrifice to spare my son.

I hope you are living a grand life with a beautiful and healthy wife who shares many, many wonderful children with you.

Signed,

The girl with pointy-patented shoes

He’ll be 5 in a couple of weeks and yet every morning he greets me with his wee-wee in hand.

For all you pervs…it’s a blanket!

Somewhere in his funny little 1-year-old mind, blanket sounded like wee-wee. And it stuck. How could it NOT! He would say:

“I pay wif my wee-wee, mom!”

“My wee-wee is warm and soft.” *rolling eyes*

He doesn’t have to have it with him everywhere, just when he sleeps and first wakes up. How harmless is that, right?

I’ve been talking with Gremlin about his wee-wee. I keep telling him that big boy Kindergartners do not have wee-wees. He just looks at me with his devilish grin and wraps his wee-wee around his head.

He had gotten a hole in it and ripped it bigger. I thought this was my opportunity to put “poor little wee-wee away before he gets worse”, but then Stacey came to the “rescue” and sowed that hole right up. Gremlin calls her his Wee-Wee Saver! (Bet you never thought you’d be called that, huh Gidge!)

*He just now came in and said, “I’ll think I’ll just go ahead and keep wee-wee.” I told him again that big boys don’t have wee-wees.…maybe you should just think about it some more. “I think-ed about it and it’s stayin in my hands.” Well, alrighty then!*

To be honest, since he doesn’t carry it around with him everywhere I haven’t made that big of a deal, but he tells people that he sleeps with his wee-wee. Talk about some funny looks! We have to quickly mention that it’s a blanket. Well, that’s all great and fine as long as we’re there. Apparently he’s been talking about his wee-wee at school. The teachers keep telling him to stop talking about his wee-wee. HA!

My mum’s idea is to cut the blanket down little bit by little bit until the blanket is a piece of nothing, but I really don’t want to cut the blanket up. I want to store it for when he’s an adult. (Why? I don’t know…just seems like the thing to do.)

I remember quite clearly telling my roommate in college that I would never be one of those parents who’s child has a “blankie”. Because, of course I had all the answers then!

On that note: here I am with a blankie child wondering — how have you guys dealt with it? Or do you still have a wee-wee yourself?