Superbowl 41 the live mommy blog

7:58: Word up, Colts. Word to your mother.

7:54: I can't watch anymore. So here we go with the Superbowl 41 recap: T can't handle his sugar, B thinks that a team could find a way to score 13 points in less than 3 minutes, and football makes L poop. She had 3 of the foulest diapers I have ever smelled/seen/changed. That last one left her little bootie the same shade of red a that Mac is so good at making. I learned also that Superbowl is just as much fun to watch when you're all by yourself as it was to watch with your husband for all those years.

7:40: I want to work for I don't want to find a job through them, I want to work for them. Directly. Ink pens darts crack me up; bubble-wrap wars doubly so.

7:32: Holy interception, Batman! Hooray for the Colts, but I can't help but feel bad for Da' Bears.

7:27: T is asleep, B is playing the piano, and L is off making a mess of something. I guess 3 hours is the kid limit as far as football goes.

7:24: I miss the days of less cameras on the field. It just takes the sport out of it.


7:22: Challenge?

7:21: 12 minutes left. I really thought it would be closer than 22/17 this near the end of the game. I am hopeful for Peyton, but....oh, it just got further apart. I honestly would have loved to see the Bears win this, but I'm guessing that #26 just won the game for the Colts.

6:59: I don't care who says what. That K-Fed commercial was fucking hilarious.

6:52: OOOOH! Oh. That was almost beautiful.

6:50: T had too much root beer and passed out cold on the couch before the second half. This comes after two hours of almost non-stop chatter. Thank you sweet Jesus for the sugar crash.

6:15: I just remembered why I loved Purple Rain so goddamn much all those years ago. Excuse me while I take a minute....

6:13: I just figured it out. Prince is everything I love about Little Richard rolled up into everything I love about Jimi Hendrix. And seriously, the Foo Fighters cover? Meee-ow.

5:57: The thing is; Prince, well, when I think about him, stuff tingles. I have a monster-crush on Prince. And in a few minutes, he's playing the half-time show. God, I hope this doesn't disappoint. And clearly the Coca-Cola corporation gets the concept of the Superbowl ad. They win my half-game favorite vote.

5:25: The baby stopped crying. Ahhhhh.

5:18: Hey, grapes are pretty good with onion dip.

5:17: At $2 million an ad, you think they'd be funnier. Or artier. Or somethingier.

5:15: T: "B, when do you want to go outside and play?" B: "Right after the second inning." Yikes.

4:54: B: Uh-huh. T: Why do the Bears always makes scores? It's 'cause the Bears cheat, I know it.

4:53: I learn that those Bears are slippery little fuckers. My kids learn that Superbowl makes momma swear excessively.

4:51: The more I think about it, the more I think that Ford commercial was really freaking cool.

4:50: Seriously, this baby has got to stop crying. (Mom busts out the 'tussin)

4:45: B smiles. T frowns.

4:34: Must vacuum up the new life form that has emerged in my carpet.

4:30: L really likes onion dip. Grapes with onion dip.

4:26: (B smiles. T frowns.) Holy motherfucking shit, is he really going all the way? #23? Devin Hester? Dude. Duuuuuude.

4:15: Billy, I love you. I don't care if you're all pitchy and shit, I love you.