Over the past month I have experienced something many women experience but I had yet to. Babyfever. That undeniable urge to have a baby.

Yes, I do have two kids. How have I avoided this fever in the past? Easy, get knocked up when you aren’t planning it. And instead of suffering from Morning sickness you suffer from “Oh Shit, what now?” sickness. I never been a woman who has bought 10 EPTs so that she can check everyday. And when I found out, I didn’t experience that overwhelming happiness.

So the fact that I have been hit with this feeling is weird to me. I have actually found myself Ohhhing and Awwwwing at baby commercials. Not a Twila trait.

I don’t know how to handle it. I mean, I think Hubby is hot, but lately he is just the most divine man on the planet. And the thought of him impregnating me is a TOTAL turn on. I can not get it out of my head. I was trying to figure out a way to sneak off at my in-laws house the other day so he could give it to me.

Heres the thing…. I don’t need a baby right now. I had planned on doing the way most responsible adults do it. Planned.

Is this baby thing normal? I mean, I am constantly thinking about it. Maybe I should just get a puppy.

So I’ve heard the snickers, and I’ve seen the rolled eyes. Yes, I am one of those. I will go to, let’s say McDonalds, and I order the meal. I order the chicken sandwich, sometimes fried. I get the fries, and I even sometimes, if I’m really hungry, have them Supersize it.  This isn’t an every day occurrence by any means, but some days I just feel like a crappy meal.   And then when I’m topping it all off, and they ask what drink I want.  I do the unthinkable.   I utter the words ‘Diet Coke.’

Oh, but people hate it. ‘Why don’t you just get the regular Coke?’  And I’ll be honest, this question really ticks me off.  I look at it as you need to cut back somewhere. So just because I’m eating fries, that means I should inhale another 300 + calories just in a drink? Plus I honestly like the taste of the diet version much better.

So this whole debate came up again while I was trying to check out at Target. I like the salads they offer in their deli. So as I stopped in for a quick lunch and went to the checkout, I spotted a Heath candy bar. I can count on one hand how many times a year I eat candy bars, but at that moment I wanted one. Plus in my mind I’m thinking, heck I only am just eating a salad for lunch so I can enjoy a candy bar.

But I guess the little bitch sliding my items through the scanner didn’t have the same idea. ‘A candy bar, and a salad? Why bother with the salad?’

‘Um, better than a pizza and salad, isn’t it?’ I glared her down as I asked her the question.

‘Yeah, I guess it is.’

Really what I wanted to say was ‘First off, bitch, when did nutritionist become part of the list of duties of a Target cashier?  Second, maybe you should learn to incorporate a little salad in your meal regiment.’ However it was Sunday and I was feeling nice.

So why the haters? I mean I’m only alloted so many calories a day. Yeah, you know what, I might skip lunch so I don’t feel guilty for a five martini evening. And I might cut back on the regular soda so I can eat my freaking fries in peace.  And that candy bar will taste only better while washing it down with a salad.  Yep, that’s right, dessert first.

Here’s the deal, I’m still working my ass off as if our little housewife wager never went away. I’ve lost a few inches (11 1/2 including my boobies ) and about 8 pounds. Besides Hubby, no one has noticed. Why has no one noticed? Because of a little invention called spandex.

Just a few years ago, most of my shorts and pants were plain cotton. So after I washed and dried them, they were a bit tight. But after the proper squat and bend dance to stretch them a bit, they fit perfectly. And they would fit perfectly for the next few times I wore them.

I would wash them again, and they would shrink a bit, back to the SAME size as before. I knew when I purchased them that they were going to be that same size.

Now, we are to the age of stretch. EVERY pant has them. I liked it a first. No more squat and bend dance. You put them on and they just kinda stretched to fit your body. Sure by the end of the day they had stretched out a bit too much but who cares? You can just wash them.

The problem is that after about 3 months of washing they start shrinking more and more. It was hard for me to prove it because for almost 4 years I was pregnant or nursing. So my weight was never very stable.  All I knew, was that my Gap jeans that used to touch the ground now looked like high waters. That’s not normal.

Since I have been losing weight there is no denying it. My clothes are literally shrinking. I have lost 2 inched in my hips and 2 in my waist and my shorts are tighter now than they were 2 months ago. Riddle me that? Yet my old shorts from like 4 years ago, are falling off of me. Hmmmmmmm.

That’s it people! NO MORE STRETCH FOR ME! I already doubt myself enough, I don’t need spandex to add to it.

There are things I understand about Facebook and things that literally cause me to fall out of my chair.

For instance, I understand how I might find it enjoyable to discover my best friend from when I was 14 and see how her life turned out.  I even find it enjoyable to find that asshole that was an asshole and see that his life turned out to be total shit.  But what keeps everyone from being honest with each other?  I can tell you right now that I have over 100 friends on Facebook.  I’ve never had 100 friends my entire life.  And, quite frankly, there are a couple of chicks that I would like to remind were T-OTAL bitches in high school.  Oh sure you can lead the PTA now and your kid’s Vacation Bible School, but you were a bitch in high school.  You laughed when people dropped their trays in the cafeteria.  You set yourself up in the gym so that people had to come to you to get you to sign their yearbooks.  You whispered.  You made fun of people with lesser qualities than yourself , say, the small chested, the acne prone, the chick who only had half an arm and a tiny little pretend hand on the end of the elbow.  Oh.  Yes you did.

And I know because I was one of those bitches and no one has fronted me out yet. 

So I sit and watch the interaction between people that would never ever ever have been friends in high school swap house buying stories or baby birthing scoop.  Oh, and my fave is when they start throwing teddy bears and chocolate covered strawberries at each other, fucking AS IF.

Someone recently posted our high school class yearbook picture.  Big hair, overblown sweaters and dresses.  We are the movie Sixteen Candles all bundled up in one big picture.  How could any of us have made fun of another human being?  We all looked like idiots in one form or another and I would like to call for Honesty On Facebook.  Maybe I’ll start that group (but I won’t because I don’t have the energy or the know how to start a group, but I’m going to talk about it here anyways, so just take notes). 

First things first , I don’t fucking play Mafia Wars or YoVille or Smallville or whatthefuckeverelseFacebookhascomeupwith.Fillintheblankhere.  I update my status daily because I think it’s important for you to know what I’m doing and my whereabouts.  I use my Facebook status as more of an alibi, so to speak.  My status will say something witty about the clementines I found fresh at the grocery store that day, when really I was at my therapists trying to score some more PRESCRIPTIONS!  But my 100+ Facebook friends don’t need to know that.  They just need to think of me as the chick that still has it all together and waiting for them to bring their yearbooks to me.

Second and most important , Members of the Honesty On Facebook group will call you out if you were an asshole to them in high school.  High school wasn’t a party for everyone all the time.  Even I could call out a couple of bitches.  We’re going to start doing that.

And lastly , Our members will defriend you right after they front you out.  Because that’s how we’re gonna roll.

Oh, and no one talks about Project Defriending, or you’ll be killed.  (Well, not really because I don’t have the energy or the level of desire required to pull off such world domination, but it sounded good, huh?)

Wait…

Wait for it…

Yep!  That’s the quiet sound of a house NOT filled with children!  You have to love back to school day.  That’s not to say I enjoyed getting up early this morning, but I tell ya, I’m going to be naked all day and watch Lifetime instead of Spongebob.

Whoop it up people!  The kids are back in school!

Okay, so I’ll keep talking about this since for the past few weeks now, this is seriously all I know. I’m learning to juggle, and holy shit, it’s a struggle. Yes, I’ve hired the lawn service and kept the housekeeper. However, I won’t go into all that is on my plate. I’m working off of 5 hours of sleep, on a good night, and I guess my body is finally telling me enough is enough.

So the other day a few people from one of our company’s biggest clients decide to come in to town for a study we’re doing for their system.

First day goes great.  Every one goes out to dinner, but I have to bow out. It had reached the 7:00 hour, and I absolutely had to get home as I was already a few hours behind on the evening schedule that I had planned.  I ended up passing out at 11:00.

The next day I actually slept until 6, which was way past the 5:00 alarm I had set. So I didn’t get a chance to get my Starbucks on the way into the office.

Noon, the caffeine headache is coming on. I’m having hard time concentrating, and I’m the one facilitating the various studies we’re doing. In between sessions I’m begging for aspirin, ibuprofen and more caffeine, basically anything anyone can give me.  I settle on two aspirin, thinking I can ward off what’s coming.

By 3, the head ache is so horrific that I can’t even think. I can feel my stomach churning, and the cold sweats are breaking out. I know this isn’t good, and I’m frantically figuring out if I can hold off for just 2 more hours til the day is done.

3:30, I have to excuse myself while I, um, well, unload. By this time clients and co-workers are extremely worried about me. When I come back, any light feels like high beams pointed directly in my eyes, and I feel like I’m going to die. I end up lying down in the fetal position on the conference room floor with a t-shirt over my eyes, rolling around in pain. While I’m doing this everyone else is trying to make plans over who is going to take me home. Being the independent woman I am, I assure them I can make it home. I, of course, fail to mention the time earlier this year when I was driving with the flu and threw up all over myself in traffic. Yeah, I’m a big girl, I can throw up on myself again if I have to.

By 5 pm the 4 Excedrin I threw back with some Sprite just 30 minutes earlier have finally kicked in. I finally feel I can handle light enough to take the damn t-shirt off my head. ‘I think I can make it home,’ I tell everyone as I slowly pull myself up from the floor.  The drive home was okay.  I made it home without any fluids leaving my body.

So I think I experienced my first migraine.  How in the hell do I ever prevent this from happening again?

I feel like crap today.

I’ve had this funk for about a week. It started with a sore throat and is now in my chest. I’m coughing up horrific things and sound like Kathleen Turner. Which for some odd reason Hubby thinks is totally hot. And I’m all like, “Hells NO, get away from me and make me some tea!”

Anyway, I’m having trouble thinking straight, so yeah… Happy School year. Be nice to your kids teachers.

Sorry, that’s all I got.

Dear Spam Email People:

I truly appreciate your concern for my finances. Apparently you think I need to save money on a Rolex and on my plentiful sexual aid medications. I should also be buying all my computer software at deep discount email prices. Office Max is obviously screwing people big time on that Microsoft Office. I pirate my software thus making Microsoft my Bitch.

I was born without a penis, therefore making your emails questioning if I’d like mine to be bigger pointless. According to your research data, “76% of women are not satisfied with their lover’s size”. If those women buy your drug and give it to them they won’t have to worry about the size any longer, they’ll have to worry about replacing the C batteries in their toys , the tiny man will either be unable to perform or dump her and blame it on the fact that her hoo-hoo was too big. Do you have any email offers on discount C batteries?

I also do not need to last longer, as a female it would actually be annoying to delay it longer than it already is delayed. I’m in my 30’s and the parent of 3 children. I don’t have that kind of time or attention span. Get in , get out , I’ve got dinner to make.

And, I’d like to specifically address the email I received today, the one about Spermomax. No one, I repeat, NO ONE wants there to be more of a mess. I guarantee you there’s not a woman alive that has expressed disappointment in their partner’s low “puddle making” ability. But, I would like to be put on the email list for someone that invents Spermominimal.

I do not and would not invest my money based on a stock tip I received in a spam email. I’m sure you’d like for me to invest all the money I’ll be saving on my sex drugs and my software on your “hot stock tip”, but I have this Uncle that recently died in Nicaragua and his attorney has just tracked me down, so my finances will be in order as soon as I reply to that email.

In closing, please understand that I appreciate coming into my office and opening my email to find 459 emails awaiting me every morning. For a while there I did feel like you cared about me and my financial and sexual well-being.

You had me at The Hollywood Diet, but lost me at Spermomax.

It’s a valid question that many husbands ask their stay at home wives. Yes, it is totally offensive to us when we are asked, but come on, it’s not something that is easily understood.  I  have been asking myself that same question lately because I don’t feel like I get much done and yet I am still exhausted at the end of the day. Why?

Well, I decided to figure out what I do to all day since when I ask myself the question I can’t seem to come up with the answer.  Here is a typical Wednesday. *Warning… It’s long.I shortened it a bit but not a lot.*

3:00 am – Shoot awake for no reason, then take 30 minutes to fall back asleep while listening to the musical sounds of Hubby snorning.

6:30 – Shoot awake again to the realization that we are all out of coffee. (A Major issue) Reach for the phone and call Hubby, who is at the gym, to ask for him to pick up some on the way home. Text him also just in case.

6:45 – Hubby’s home, no coffee.

7:00 – Get kids up, change diapers and stuff. Realize I forgot to put a diaper on Eldest and he peed the bed. Rip off the sheets and pile them near the laundry room.

7:15 – Make breakfast for everyone and beg hubby to go back out and get some coffee. Put Eldest in time out. (I can’t remember why.)

7:30 – 8:00 – Turn on Sesame Street for the kids while I finish cleaning the kitchen and put up my post for the blog.

8:00 – 8:30 – Hubby arrives with the coffee… now 30 minutes to down the ridiculously hot stuff. Check email, do some blog stuff and try to interact with the kids while watching “The Street” because scientist say its best to have conversations about what they are watching so it will have more meaning.

8:30 – 9:00- Get the kids and myself ready for swim lessons and drive over there. Allow for enough time for Eldest to realize that he needs to go potty right before lessons. Then some how hold Youngest while helping Eldest pull down his pants, get on the toilet, do his thing, then pull up pants and wash hands. All one handed. (This is the reason even fat mommies have kick ass arms. Holding a kid and helping another is a workout.)

9:00 – 9:30 – Swim lessons.

9:30 – 9:45 – Deal with the acrobatics of drying off myself and two little kids without either of them running away from me. Go home.

9:45 – 11 Change everyone, put Youngest down for a nap. Go to Target with Eldest for a few needed things. (Yep, got out for under $100. That’s talent.) Deposit check at bank.

11 – 11:30 Unpack the car, clean a few more things that have somehow collected in the kitchen and make lunch for everyone.

11:30 – 12 Wake youngest up, change diaper and put some clothes on him so we don’t look too white trash. Eat lunch. Which would be restful, but I feed Youngest at the same time. Marvel at the fact that Youngest said and signed the word “more” for the first time.

12 – 12:30 – Clean kitchen. Marinade pork for dinner. Re clean kitchen. Scrub the breakfast area to make sure the ants don’t come back. Pull the diapers out of the dryer and start another load. (only 3 more to go for the day.) Start the dishwasher.

12: 30 – 12:45 – Take Eldest to the bathroom where he announces that he is going to write out the first letter of his name with his pee. Clean him, his hands and the floor. Put clean sheets on his bed. Tell him the only way little boys get cheesecake is if they take a nap. Stuff cloth diapers and put them away. Console Youngest who just hit it head on the tile.

12:45 – Get some water. Start writing this post while playing with Youngest.

1:00 – 2nd nap for youngest. Drier is done, fold stuff. Start another load. Realize that I missed the last 10 minutes of the news that I like to watch. Hope to catch it tomorrow. (Yeah right.)

1:30 – 2:10 – Continue writing this post. Check email, a few blogs. Go outside and water plants, pull weeds in my veggie garden and throw stuff into the compost bin. Oh also, talk with friend who called, while pulling weeds. (in 100 degree heat.)

2:10 – 2:45 – Decide wether or not to get Youngest who has decided that he does not want to sleep. Hmmmm… I’m gonna make him wait it out. Frame some pictures for the Master Bedroom (remember my birthday present.) Start boiling the sausage for tonight. Turn the marinating pork and onions. Figure out what veggie I am going to cook. Zucchini.

2:45 – Sit down with water and laptop to search Etsy.

2:53 – 3:20 – (Yes, 8 minutes later.) Hear a large banging noise. Eldest is awake (probably never slept) and has now awoken Youngest who had just fallen asleep. So much for taking a break. Get Eldest a snack and drink and sit down to check a little more mail and write this down… drier is done. Time to fold. Youngest fell back asleep.

3:20 – I Do what I hate… put on a Pixar movie. I just need a little down time and my in-laws are coming in 1 1/2 hours for dinner.

3:45 – Eldest falls asleep on the couch. As his eyes are closing he is telling me that he is not tired. I turn off the movie. Youngest wakes up. Pour some milk for him and try and sit down for a little while and play with him.

4:30 – Start cooking.

5:00 – In-laws arrive, eat, clean up. (And have a few too many drinks.)

9:00 – In-laws leave. Still have laundry to finish… I’ll get to it tomorrow. And now, I am brain dead.

There you go Ladies… next time your hubby asks you what you do all day, just show them this. And tell them this is a regular day, not a busy day. And I just realized now… I didn’t get a chance to take a shower.

I owe EZ Mail in Frisco a big thanks!  They asked to be reviewed and I was a little lost on how to review them, then I remembered I still had 4 bottles of Bath & Body Works hand soap that my mother in law couldn’t fit in her suitcase last Christmas.  So, I thought , PERFECTION!  What better way to review a mailing place then to have them mail some soap to Denmark to the most persnickety human on the planet!  AND, to try and complicate it even more, I sent my husband to EZ Mail to do the review.

Oh, yes.  I set it up to fail.

But they didn’t!  They DHL’d my MIL’s package and when it arrived she said it was wrapped so well a glass vase could’ve survived.  Plus they filled out all the shipping paperwork for an overseas package and everything.  All my husband had to do was drop off the bottles in a paper bag!  It worked out perfectly.  And, husband even said they were super nice.

I love that they have curbside service, package everything for you , it’s a total full service joint.  And no uberlong lines like at the post office.  However, to lease a PO Box is more expensive than the post office, and, of course there are fees for stuff.  But it’s one of those situations where you pay for convenience, I think.

They did a great job, I will use them again.  And I give EZ Mail in Frisco 4 out of 5 Countini’s.  Only 4 because I don’t understand the children’s clothing rack they have there.