Why everyone should have kids if just for their comedic value.

Bathroom conversation with my 3 1/2 year old...

Audrey: Mama, I'm going poopy.

Me: That's great honey.

Audrey: My tummy hurted, but now it won't hurt because I'm going poopy.

Me: Yeah. It usually works that way.

Audrey: My butt is magical.

Seven things you don't know about me (a few a which you might wish you didn't)

I hate having my face touched--by anyone. It creeps me out to no end. A back-o-the neck grab while I'm making out is fine and dandy. Just don't touch my face. I don't even like it when my children touch my face (mostly because I know where their hands have been).

I love makeup. I love what it can do (and have learned over the years what it can't do). I have a "set" way I like to wear my makeup, but I change it up depending on my outfit and/or my mood. I'm sure no one notices, but I do and mine is the only opinion that matters in this arena.

I can't go underwater without plugging my nose. I have an unwavering aversion to even trying it. My mother told me that when I was an infant I could swim like a fish. I have no idea where or when I lost that ability.

I love being alone. I don't get a whole lot of time by myself, but when I do I cherish it. An afternoon alone without an agenda is the best gift anyone could give me.

I try to avoid crying in front of people at all costs. I don't know why. I can probably count on one hand the number of times I've shed tears (during my adult life) in front of anyone else. I'm not a robot. I do cry. I just don't like company when I do.

The first time I had sex was so awful and disappointing that I didn't do it again for another three years. Then I made up for lost time.

When I was pregnant with my first child, I read somewhere that some women poop while pushing the baby out. I told Jim about it and we laughed and laughed. He said that if I pooped, he was going to start dancing around the room singing, "YOU POOPED! YOU POOPED!". We laughed some more.

I did end up pooping on the delivery table. He did not sing.

Regret meme

Katie tagged me with this one: You’ve just learned that tomorrow you will die at sunrise. Tell me the five things you regret and the five things you don’t.

The Don't Regrets:

1. I don't regret starting a blog. Though I was hesitant at first (who the fuck am I that anyone else wants to read about my take on stuff?), I'm glad I hopped on the bandwagon. It wasn't until I re-found Grant Miller digging around on the internets that I seriously considered it (read: you can blame him for this amalgam of whoosit).

I've since (both virtually and actually) met some new friends through it, and not one restraining order has since been filed. In two days, it will have been one full year since I started Better Living Through Bacon. And it's been delicious.

2. I don't regret having children. In my younger years, I honestly didn't think I would. I didn't think I had it in me to take on the responsibility and set aside my own selfish tendencies.

It's not perfect, and sometimes (all the time) I question my capabilities. Having children has tested my sanity in ways I never thought possible. If they weren't so damn cute, I'd have sold them to the gypsies years ago.

With the difficult however comes the amazing. The adoration that oozes from them all over my husband and I is payment enough for every sleepless night, every splatter of poop, and every puddle of puke (of course, they aren't teenagers yet).

Knowing that I have two mini-humans counting on me to keep my shit together gives me reason enough to try and be a better person.

3. I don't regret quitting my job as a hairstylist almost three years ago. I miss doing hair sometimes, but I don't miss hauling my kids around to get to work for a paycheck that was barely covering expenses incurred from working. How sad that it sometimes cost me money to go to work?

4. I don't regret being slutty in college. I would never buy a pair of shoes without trying them on first no matter how gorgeous or cheap they were. Some people learn by seeing or being shown. I learned by trying every pair of shoes in the shoe store.

Sure, I got my heart broken more times than I'd like to admit and maybe I should have listened to that inner voice a little more often. In the long run however, I can't say that I regret any of it (OK, maybe a couple of them).

5. I don't regret going on crazy pills. This is a recent development here in the land of salty meat, and not something I ever planned on talking about here, but there you have it.

I spent way too long ignoring the unignorable. I had myself convinced that everyone felt the way I did. They just didn't talk about it. I was wrong.

My only regret is that I didn't deal with it sooner.

The Do Regrets:

1. I regret never living alone. I went from living at home to the dorms to having roommates to getting married. I never got to enjoy the kind of freedom one has knowing a space is all one's own. I missed my opportunity to do it when I could, and until my kids move out and my husband decides to get a trophy wife, I'm SOL.

2. I regret not finishing college. I could always go back, but time and money don't grow on trees. It's always in the back of my mind though. Someday.

3. I regret not cutting poisonous people out of my life sooner. Whether it was a bitchy friend who never had anything positive to say or a loser boyfriend who couldn't tell the truth to save his life, I regret not having the balls to tell them where to go. I always seemed to fall into that trap of not wanting to hurt anyone's feelings even when the situation made me miserable. I know better now.

4. I regret not standing up for myself when I should have. I spent way too much time in my young adulthood not asking for what I wanted and/or needed. As hard and tough as I thought I was back then, that girl in her twenties would cower in front of the woman I have turned out to be.

5. I regret not owning my actions earlier in life. I also spent the better part of my 20's spending too much time blaming others for my own mistakes. With age has come the realization that I am responsible for my own choices and the fallout--and that that's not a bad thing. This to me is what led me to come to grips with my Atheism (after a whole life of being raised in a religious household).

I hope to look back on this post after a long while and not have anything to add to the bottom part of the list, but without regret what would spur us on to try new things and learn from our inevitable mistakes?

Un-regretfully yours,

The Bacon Lady

It's Tattoos, Ya'll!

Last night Audrey got out of the tub and proceeded to return her entire dinner into a towel I heroically swooped under her mouth just in the nick of time. I kept trying to scoot her closer to the toilet as wave after wave of chicken/broccoli/french fry goop came pouring out of her gullet, but she kept backing up.

It was kind of funny.

"BLORT!"

"Come this way honey..."

"BLORT!"

"No, not towards the door...this way. OK, in the towel then."

A couple hours after I got them in bed, Mina was up and ready for her barf-o-rama.

This morning, Mina was fine. Audrey seemed fine, but after eating and then un-eating breakfast was in for a day of couch surfing and little else.

She even puked up the juice she drank, and won't go near the Pedialyte (I can't blame her. It looks like urine on the morning after a loooong night of drinking).

The only good thing about your kid being sick is the primo snuggle time.

The poor thing can't keep any food down so she is not in her usual tornado mode. Normally she isn't very snuggly, but today we got to spend some sweet moments stretched out on the couch, catching up on Blue and Franklin, just cuddled up warm and cozy.

I'm letting her sleep on the couch not so much as a "special treat" but to make sure I catch any further throwing up incidents. We just got the floors done and my mother in law got us this rockin new rug that I would like to try and keep puke(and dog poop) free for as long as possible. I don't ask for much.

If you've read this far without feeling queasy you probably have kids of your own who's puke you've caught, shit you've wiped and snot you've sopped up. If you don't have kids, then my apologies and I hope you weren't eating.

I really thought it was something they ate, but Audrey feels like she has a fever now so I think she's legitimately sick. My supergreatkickass friend Rachel was planning on have my girls over for a slumber party on Saturday, but I think Audrey is going to have to sit this one out. We'll see.

My husbitch and I had big plans to go down to St. Louis for the Old School Tattoo Expo. I told him that if Audrey got sick again, he could stay home and I was still going. I was kind of half-joking, but he gave me the "Fine. Whatever" look.

I think I might still go. Is that too Britney of me?

Whiny kids and poop

Am I a total asshole for not liking someone else's kids?

OK, maybe that's a little harsh.

Audrey's in a swim class on Thursday mornings with two brothers. One is 3 and one is 6 and both of them are screeching messes once their bodies hit the water.

To back up a little here...

Audrey was so excited to get signed up for "big girl" swim class (the one where I don't get in the water with her). Jim and I made the mistake of bringing her to one of Mina's classes last session and Audrey wailed and tore at her face wanting to get in the water too. At the time, she wasn't potty trained, so I told her that when she graduated to big girl underpants, she too could join in on the aquatic fun.

So, here we are, four sessions into a 13 week session and Fric and Frac have turned my once enthusiastic swimmer-to-be into a puddle of tears.

What happens is that as soon as the teacher tries to hold one of the brothers in the water, they claw at her shoulders SCREAMING for their mother. "MAMA! I'M SCARED! I'M GOING TO FALL! HELP ME!"

It's kind of terrifying to watch for me, so I can only imagine what's going through my 3 year old's head with her front row seat.

Today the intstructor grabbed an assistant to help her out, and Audrey did a little better being distracted from the other two.

I hate to say it, but I wish the Mom would just stop coming to class. Half of the 30 minute class is taken up by the teacher trying to calm one or the other of the brothers down.

It's totally selfish of me to think that, but I feel like I paid $100 to watch some horrible child psychology experiment.

On a sidenote: It smells like a giant shit on my back deck. I don't see any shit in the general vicinity, but it smells like there is big steaming pile of it right next to me.

Birds are stupid

While I was outside having my morning coffee, a couple of birds flew into the screened in porch. That was at about 8am.

It's almost 4pm and they're still flapping around in there. They can't figure out how to get out.

I tried enticing them with bits of bread crumbs at the door, but they didn't seem to notice. They'd rather fly into the screen, getting their beaks stuck, and leaving holes all over.

I tried shooing them out with a broom, but all that did was cause one of them to drop dead on the floor.

I really thought I gave it a heart attack, and I immediately burst into tears. It just laid there for a few minutes, not moving.

After that episode I decided better to ignore the whole matter until Jim got home. I like to leave the dirty jobs to him, like when one of the babies would poop in the tub during their nighttime bath.

"I've got a surprise for you in the bathtub," I would sing to him when he walked in the door after work. Worked every time.

As it turned out, the bird was not dead--only playing dead. How fucked up is that?

Maybe they're not as stupid as I thought.

The Haps

Well, we're almost through the first full week at the new house and all's well.

I had my surgery yesterday and am feeling way better than expected. A little twinge here and there, but nothing a little Tylenol with codeine can't handle. It was actually nice to have a little forced down time.

My realtor sent us a thank you gift, and it arrived on Thursday. I don't know how to use it but when I figure it out, I figure she's saved me about 4million dollars (plus tip) a year at Starbucks. Rockin'.

Now that we're moved in and the surgery's all done, it's time to start gearing up for the rest of the crazy summer.

This weekend I'll be in Arizona for my cousin's wedding. Most of my Dad's side of the family will be there, and they will be meeting my girls for the first time. Seeing as most of them have lived in New York or thereabouts for their whole lives, I won't be the least bit surprised if my long gone east coast accent rears its head by the end of the weekend.

After that it will be an endless parade of kiddy birthday parties, a Fourth of July party here, then maybe a weekend trip to St. Louis. Somewhere in there I'm planning a garage sale to get rid of all the useless shit I discovered hidden in the back of several cabinets at the old house.

I feel like this summer is going to fly by and it's barely started.

The only thing not going by quickly is the dogs' adjustment to a new place. Boy dog has shit in the house on a number of occasions. He is very lucky I love his dopey self, or I might have put someone else's address and phone number on the new ID tags.