swimming in February

Today we celebrated The Kid's 7th birthday. Kid, I loves ya. I'll leave the birthday post to your mom, but I really do love you, Kid. I am the gladest you were born.

We had a fabulous time at a good, old-fashioned pool party.

L got a new bikini for the occasion, and I got to squeeze my fat ass into one. Guess who looked cuter?

Maybe someone ought to tell L that if she doesn't lay off the cupcakes...

...there's no way she'll ever get back into those size 12 month pants.

all the cool kids will be there

In just 11 short hours, the next installment of "See how much one can actually drink a full mile above sea level" will begin.

That's right, the Rocky Mountain Blogger Bash 6.0 is tonight. Bloggers welcomed, groupies too. There will be pool, there will be beer, and there will be, well, us. All of us. Well, a lot of us. Be there or be square.

Hop on over to David's site and let him know you're coming.

who is Keyser Soze?

L has a growing vocabulary. She says excuse me, puppy, doggie, dance, T and B, outside and so on. She won't say milk, but she will sign drink. She will say eat but won't sign it. Who understands toddlers? No one, that's who. Today, a sad T told me that she called him stupid. While I assured him no 16 month-old baby could possibly say stupid, I am in fact quite sure that she not only can, she most likely did.

Every home with a toddler has a Keyser Soze. A noun that you cannot figure out, but is none-the-less the object of your sweet butter's obsession.

Ours is anNee. More like anNeeeee! Our little L spends most days, every day prattling on and on about anNee. When she fake-talks into the phone, she talks to/about anNee. When she is bent over backwards having temper tantrums that require a priest and some special water to stop, she is yelling at/about anNee.

Could anNee be our resident ghost? Is anNee just her little baby word for fuck off you skanky bitch? It's been hard to say, but I am happy to report that anNee has not only been identified,

but we captured that sucker.

Mom: "Where anNee, baby? Where's your anNee?"

L: ""

random. so very, very random.

Sometimes I think my son is the funniest kid, ever. Today, he was fabulous.

This afternoon:

T: Mom, is Cupid real?
Mom: I think so, honey.
T: No he's not, mom!
Mom: Oh yeah, well then how do people fall in love?
T: Maaawm, you just meet a girl who you think is pretty and...
Mom: So you have to be pretty for a boy to fall in love with you?
T: Yes!
Mom: What if I was ugly? You're saying dad wouldn't have fallen in love with me?
T: Noooooo. But someone would have thought you were pretty.
Mom: Thanks. It's a good thing he thought I was, huh?

Chauvinist pig. Good thing he's cute.

Later this evening, I was taking pictures of my darling children who clearly

just like their momma

loves them some chocolate fondue

and I took the umpteenth picture of T in which he looked exactly like a serial killer. I couldn't help but chuckle and I said, "T, you should try to not open your eyes so wide when I take pictures of you.

To which T said, "What do you mean, mom? I was just smiling."

To which I said, "But T, you look like you're about to come at me with a kitchen knife."

To which he said, "Naw Aww, mom! Let me see."

At which point I showed him.

To which he said, "Aw, mom, that's just because I'm Irish."

v-day sounds an awful lot like vd, don't you think?

I wanted to go on about how much I abhor this stupid holiday, but a big, blue-eyed little almost seven-year-old hugged my legs this morning while I brushed my teeth, shot me a humongous, toothless grin and asked me to be his. And so, now even I like Valentine's day. In moderation.

Instead, I offer you 5 of the very worst gifts you could give your sweet butter love today.

1. A Back Razor:
If your dude has back hair, that means that A) he has lots of testosterone, and we all like that and B) that he is self-conscious about it. Don't rub it in. It's just, well, mean.

2: Any variety of salve or cream, especially this one:

I have never met a man who could be early for anything. I suppose you could look at this little problem as A) a compliment or B) one step closer to punctuality.

3. Edible Undies. Ones purchased at 7-11 are doubly wrong.

4. An engagement ring. Do you know that your marriage is a whole like more likely to fail if you proposed/were proposed to on Valentine's Day? I can't recall the statistics, but the failure rate is really high. Wait a week. Then you'll be totally safe.

5. Dinner out. There is nothing (aside from Mother's Day) more horrifying that 2 hours in a restaurant on V-Day. The staff is pissy, everyone is waiting, the kitchen is bombed...it's a nightmare. Stay home. Make fondue. Or eat those undies you picked up at 7-11.

I feel like I should list boxes of chocolate, e-cards, roses or any of those cliched gifts, but to be honest, I kinda like all those things.

Anywho, Happy Day of Tennis Bracelets and Awkward Sexual Encounters. I hope you have fun. I will, for sure. I've got me a very funny Valentine.