Ya Say it's Your Birthday...

I'm told I was pissed the day my brother was born.

Just ten days beyond my third birthday, and quite content in my role of only child--and the center of Mom and Dad's universe--I was willing to share the spotlight. With a little sister.

Arriving at the hospital to the news that I was there to meet my baby brother was at the same time frustrating and infuritating. Now this, I do remember. I was taken to the nursery to see Baby Jarred sleeping among the rows of newborn baby boys...and girls. Thinking all babies are interchangable, and that surely one of the little girl mommies would gladly trade for a little boy, I implored my father to exchange Jarred. While standing outside the nursery wearing a hospital smock, I angrily stomped my foot and demanded Dad "Take that baby back!". This was met with laughter by everyone within earshot. This only made me seeth with more anger. Never laugh at an angry three-year-old. Write that down.

Perhaps in an attempt to give me a cooling-off period, Mom suggested Dad take me to the store to buy a teddy bear for my new baby brother. Imagine her surprise when we returned two hours later, I was the proud owner of two new pairs of shoes, and I presented Jarred with this teddy bear:

Actual height: 4 inches. Whomp whomp. Moments later, I pumped up the blood pressure sleeve until it burst and Mom and Dad hid it from sight. Then I got to hold Jarred for the first time, and I realized that even though we wouldn't be playing dress-up together, we could still have some fun times. Jarred introduced me to a world of trains, trucks and Legos I wouldn't have enjoyed otherwise. Now I can't wait until Legos are no longer a choking hazard for Robinson, and he has the motor skills to build things with me. It's gonna be so fun!

Thanks, Jayzee, for making childhood so fun (and for making adulthood more fun too)!

xoxo

P.S. I'm sorry for calling you "Jayzee" on this blog. And I'm sorry for mentioning again just now.

Credit Given Where Credit's Due

A while back, I took former First Daughter and Today contributing correspondent Ms. Jenna Bush Hager to task for her elementary school teacher style of narration. It's great for reading stories to young children, not so great for a national news program.

Her latest piece just aired and I must say, I noticed a marked improvement in her ease and style. She is doing a great job!

I figure, I can't criticize somebody and then not recognize them for doing well, so there you go--nice work, Jenna!

Three Mutts Photo Album

via Poorly Dressed

A 'Miner' Observation

Ok, if you have spent any time reading my blog, you know I don't really follow the "news" per se. I view the television purely as a source of entertainment. I receive most of my information via Us Weekly, Ryan Seacrest and Joel McHale of The Soup. But, if I'm watching Oprah, and I happen to be too busy taking care of my baby to change the channel when the local and national news airs, well then I just might watch the news on accident. That happened to me today.

Here's what I knew about the whole Chilean Miner saga prior to today:

1. There is a South American country called "Chile"
2. It is pronounced "Chee-lay"
3. They mine for stuff down there
4. People who mine for stuff down there are called "miners"
5. They work in places underground called "mines"
6. A bunch of miners somehow became trapped in a mine.
7. They will be rescued, but only after being stuck there for 2+ months
8. As wives and children of the trapped miners held vigil, so did the miners' mistresses. Awkward.

You had me at "Miner Mistresses". I erupted into a fit of giggles and ignored any other details related to the story. You have to forgive me, I've been taking care of a newborn, and my husband and I have the sense of humor appropriate for a 14-year-old boy. I have since learned that this is the Apollo 13 and Baby Jessica story of this decade. I will try to treat it as such. I am super thankful everybody has been safely rescued. They really beat the odds.

So, today was the day they all got rescued. We would later hear news reports describing their state of mind and conditions down there, but earlier in the day we are focusing on the jubilant occasion and witnessing the rescue of the 33 men. Here were my observations:

1. I expected them to be emaciated. They did not appear to be.
2. I expected them to have long pepaw beards. They did not.
3. I expected them to be all dirty like Pigpen from the Peanuts gang, and covered in soot. "But Samantha, they were trapped in a copper mine. They're not chimney sweeps!" No matter. I pictured them covered in soot.
4. I expected at least one of them to be slapped by his wife while his mistress throws herself in front of him. Kind of like an episode of Cheaters.
5. The ABC reporter gleefully reported that this mine previously produced copper, and some gold, but today it produces men! Living, joyous men. I think to myself that I have a few gay friends who would be thrilled about a "man mine".
6. Then they discuss the thing-a-ma-jig that is used to rescue them. I've been married to Steve too long, and my mind is in the gutter. The rescue thingy is shaped kind of like a phallus, and they use the words "lubricant" and "shaft" in describing how it operates. I let out a chuckle.
7. All this talk of mistresses, lubricants and shafts gets me thinking of sex. I text Steve: "Do you suppose that they had a designated jerk-off corner? It's a valid question, albeit a sick, perverted one. I'm sorry. Steve is filled with pride that such a thought would cross my mind. I apologize for him too.
8. I only spent a few minutes watching the rescue, but these miners appeared to be cleaner than I was while watching it from the comfort of my living room. I was all hot and sweaty from running around, consoling a screaming infant, and scrubbing pots and pans. Then, I was covered in spit-up and scraping baby poop out from under my fingernails. I don't even want to tell you what my hair looked like. I'll just say, these guys looked better than me, and they've been underground for two months.

Workplace Gossip

Today's post, courtesy of Jarred:

I know gossip at work is pretty normal, but I get to overhear this:


Misty: Jeremy do you remember that guy Tara used to date when you started?
Jeremy: Which one?
Misty: The one that didn't have legs, he walked on his hands!
Jarred: Excuse me? Did he have spina bifida?
Misty: No, he was born with never having legs. And he walked on his hands and would hang from the counter.
Jarred: That's awesome.
Misty: No way, and she did him! Why would you do that?!
Jarred: Why wouldn't you? How many single people do you get to meet like that?
Misty: That's crazy.
Jarred:  Maybe he had a nice personality.
Misty: Nuh uh, he was after her money.

Thats right, a 26-year-old co-worker of mine was seduced by a legless man who was only after her money.

Round 2

Misty: Jay, what would you say if you heard a cop had bought a cell phone jammer that jams phones within a hundred yards, a set of keys that will open any lock, and an indian weapon?
Jarred: Like a Native American weapon or Middle Eastern Indian weapon?
Misty: I. Don't. Know.
Jarred: Well, it matters.
Misty: I think its a tomahawk, whats he gunna do?!
Jarred: I have no idea.

Thats right, Misty's exboyfriend is a cop who is conspiring to rob and murder an Indian casino pit boss.