SEX!!

SexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSex
SexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSex
SexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSex

This is a test. It's only a test. A sex test. A sexy sex test.

A sexy sexy sex test to see if if people want to read about sex.

Ever tried saying "sex" really fast a bunch of times? Try it:

SexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSexSex!!

Does sex get more readers?

sex words:
sextuplets
sexual
sexy
sexier
sex
more sex
sexy sex
big fat sex.
big fat man having yucky sex.

Are you laughing yet?

pregnant sex
postpartum sex
bored sex
fun sex
married sex
missionary sex
maintenance sex
tired sex
adventurous sex
crazy sex
quick sex
exotic sex
what the??? sex
ridiculous sex
insecure sex
needy sex
mind-blowing sex
pretentious sex
sweatin out the perm sex
nerd sex
birthday sex
birthday suit sex
over the hill sex
who cares sex

Doesn't SEX look funny when seeing sex written all over the place? Like some weird computer code language. Maybe it is!

Are you over SEXed now?

Thanks for reading this SEX tirade.

Please enjoy sex responsibly.
In your own home. (or wherever else you have sex)
With your own sexy husband.

Hush Hush

The baby knack readership has been very quiet lately. I'm lead to wonder are the latest articles too dull, unrelatable, lacking pizazz, or should I stop being so self-conscious and assume that folk are just busy?! They got lives!

Talk to me...

I'm listening.

8 Months Going on 14

I'm raising a teenager now.

We go to the park and Cub gives me that look like, "Uh, can you give me some space? I've got friends here." Or the goofy faces that used to make him laugh now get an eye roll. Like, "Mom, stop being so dorky, gosh."

When I used to be the apple of his eye, now he flirts with sales ladies, little girls on the playground, and any and everybody else, gushing over, batting eyes, and what does Mom get? The "here, hold my bottle." Thanks.

Before long I'll be dropping him off at daycare a block away, just so the other toddlers don't see him pulling up with mommy.

It's Raining Cheerios!

I used to work in restaurants as a hostess. It was my teenage gig. A fun little job to meet people, make a little cash and hang out. And of course check out all the cute older boys too!

But there was one particular group of creeping, crawling individuals that I couldn't stand -- the Cheerio kids!

The little stinkers that spread and shed and mushed and gushed, and crunched and munched Cheerios all over the tables, inside the booths, and of course deep into the carpet.

It was always when the restaurant was jammed pack and I was anxiously looking for an open table for some impatient, irritable, hungry couple, that I'd stumble upon the trails left by a Cheerio kid leading me to the one table that was now open but covered in slimy Cheerio-saliva gunk. And since the bus boys were too busy, being that we were slammed, guess who had the privilege of wiping the salmagundi down? Yep, mois.

But now, I have a Cheerio kid. Gulp.

And now I will forever be associated with the secret, or rather, not so secret, Cheerio society.

This afternoon Cub and me were getting fro-yo. (Me eating a tub full of fro-yo covered in goodies I had no business eating, him eating mushed bananas from the toppings section) I brought a safety stash of the big C's in case the banana wasn't going to do it for him. As soon as he caught sight of the flimsy ziplock bag he went nuts! Thrashing and kicking and knocking everything out of the way that stood between him and his Cheerios, pushing the cute, little, devious whole grain snacks all over the freshly mopped floor.

I immediately averted my eyes from the young store clerk that just finished mopping up. I knew her eyes were probably narrowing down at us, concocting some evil scheme to ban all the Cheerio kids from the establishment forever. But there was nothing I could do.

Then there was the CRUNCH.

My official initiation into the Cheerio society. My flip-flops accidentally crunched those little boogers on the floor and I knew it was over.

Sorry, clerk.

The best I could do was clean up the mushy yuck from the table and pray she would forgive me for leaving the trail of Cheerio debris all over her nice shiny floor.

Double-Dog Dare

Remember the Double-Dog Dares?

I don't know where kids ever came up with that, but to double-dog dare someone was the ultimate challenge! (If you click on DDD above, I did find a kinda cool site that tries to speculate and dig back to the origins of it)

Everybody remembers in the movie, A Christmas Story, where a kid double-dog dares character Flick to put his tongue on the frozen flagpole. Of course Flick had to do it. He couldn't dodge a double-dog dare. He'd be a total punk! So Flick ends up stuck to the flagpole like an idiot.

I'm starting to think we need more double-dog dares in adulthood. Not trivial, petty, peer pressure. I'm talking about double-dog dares that propel us to GREATNESS!

As I've been dishing lately, I'm working to overcome a few challenges. One of them is the ultimate LOVE challenge. I've double-dog dared myself to love beyond measure. To stretch to new heights in the love arena. In every aspect of life.

Everybody knows one should never pray for patience. As soon as you do, you'll get hit with every scenario that will test your patience. Same thing happens with LOVE. Once you seek to love harder, you will immediately find loving -- much harder! Like that guy that cuts you off on the freeway, the neighbor blasting music at all hours of the night, your co-worker, family members, etc, etc...

So over the last 24 hours, I've looked my spirit self right in the eye, woman to woman, and double-dog dared her to nail this love thing.

And I'm actually quite surprised by how invigorating it's been. Like preparing for a marathon. The competitor in me is ignited. Ready to kick some double-dog dare butt! (We'll see how long that lasts when I'm stuck on the 405 right smack dab in rush hour!)

I don't like losing. And as much as I pretend to like pouting at times and, yes, whining. I am a true winner. I'm persistent. I'm motivated. I'm a double-dog darer! Like a sniffing police dog on a mission. So when I set out to conquer this challenge, I want to bring it home, baby! Even if it takes a lifetime.

Now don't be going up into your imaginations trying to figure out where I'm challenged with love or with whom, nosy Nellies! Because the love I'm talking about is,

Patient, is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. It does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. It never fails.

Now ain't that something?

What will YOU double-dog yourself to do today?

Introducing Guest Mama "Dawn"!!

Hey, Mamas, it affords me great pleasure to introduce our first guest mama, DAWN, to the Baby Knack!

Dawn is a mother of 3 (God bless her soul!) -- 9 months, 3 and 6. Her stories really belong on a reality series. These beautiful children are a -- Dawn, dare I say, a hot mess?? In a hilarious way, of course!! Lol.

Dawn's stories always have my stomach hurting from laughter. Her girls, the 3 and 6 year old, are brilliant, sassy and pickled with a sense of humor. They definitely keep Ms. Dawn on her toes!

Here are some of her stories... (apparently her kids are fixated on the derriere!)

BABY PHAT

Today, I was out shopping for new jeans to celebrate losing more baby weight. While pushing the basket, my 6 year old daughter came up behind me, put BOTH hands on my butt and made my booty shake! All I could say was, "Why?" In which she replied, " I like to see it jiggle". Of course after that I wasn't in a celebratory mood and tried to get out of the store as fast as I could just in case anyone heard her.

BUTT CHEEKS

The other day my 3 year old was undressing with her back toward me. She had on a dress with lots of buttons down the back. Her dad helped with the buttons. When she was able to slide the dress down, she pulled down her undies, exposing her little 3 year old booty and grabbed two handfuls, squeezed, and then looked over her shoulder and said "butt cheeks"! Then started laughing hysterically. All I could do was shake my head. I could see her doing that in front of company!

Apparently Dawn's already preparing to be a grandmother in this story...

DA' KIDZ

So, last night during dinner out of nowhere, my 6 year old daughter asks, Mom what days are you going to be open to watch my kids? I'm thinking Friday will be good for me 'cause I'm going to need to do things like, get my nails done and like my hair. Soooo, how does that sound to you? Are you, like, going to be available or should I bring them another day? She then turns to her dad and says, Dad, if Mom is not available can you watch them for me?

Of course, I was sitting there speechless. I think I told her that I wasn't going to be around because I had my own hair and nail appointment. So my husband replies to her, You can drop the kids off anytime.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thanks, Dawn!!

All you other fun mamas out there, please feel free to send me a funny story or two if you have one at HindsWriteProds@gmail.com. I can't post every one, but I'll do my best!!

Love.

The Sleep Sack.

The last few nights I've been sacked!!

Like a Quarterback.

I'm in the middle of a nice, peaceful sleep, probably dreaming about something lovely, then BOOM out of nowhere -- I get sacked!! The gang on Monday Night Football would even be impressed.

Allow me to explain...

For some odd reason over the last few nights my husband has been in this unconscious protective mode.

(Remember when you used to ride in the front seat while your mom was driving and suddenly she'd throw out her arm across your chest to keep you from falling forward at a stop even though you were like 18 years old? Well, this is happening with my husband in his sleep.)

He keeps thinking I'm going to roll off the bed whenever I turn over -- even though we have a CALIFORNIA KING BED and I haven't "rolled off the bed" probably since I was two, if even then, -- and he immediately grabs me up and pulls me to the middle of the bed in his sleep.

The first time this happened I almost peed my pajamas!
I didn't know what happened!

There I was in a deep sleep and all of a sudden I'm being grabbed up out of my sleep by these big, strong arms, like an intruder had broken into our home, only to hear my husband say a foggy, you were about to roll off the bed.

Initially when this happened, I thought, that's strange. I've never rolled off this bed or any adult bed for that matter. What's going on in my sleep? I thought it was ME.

But now this has been happening over the last 3 nights!

Last night when it happened yet again, I quickly defended myself and said, Babe! I'm just turning over! At which point his body went limp and fell back into a deep slumber.

I asked him about it this morning, and if this is going to continue to go on. And if so, maybe I need to start wearing football pads to bed. He had no recollection of even doing it! He chuckled.

He has a lot going on at work lately and different things on his mind, so it makes since that his subconscious is a little on edge. And most likely, we think he's thinking I'm the baby for some reason in his sleep. Even though Cub hasn't fallen asleep in our bed in months!!

I'm certainly glad his protective reflexes are on guard and stand alert, but can a girl get a good-night's sleep without being tackled? Geesh.

I Ate Poop.

This evening Cub, me and daddy were all sitting together at the dinner table. It was a lovely Sunday evening. We had just returned home from a Sunday afternoon cruise along Malibu and were feeling pretty darn good.

I decided to mash up some avocados for Cub's dinner since he hasn't had any in a while and I had these perfect plump organic (ooh lala) ones from the natural food store. Yum.

So we're all sitting there, just big fat happy campers. And I say to my husband, I don't think he's pooped yet today. Because you know that's the only topic of discussion these days. Forget what's on the news, the injustice and poverty happening around the world or anything else of adult interest and content.

My husband makes a comment about hopefully he'll get something out before his bath. And I agree. Definitely before bath or tomorrow morning -- NOT in the middle of the night.

We carry on, enjoying feeding Cub. Laughing at every little smile, expression, chomp and what not. Just doing what all silly new parents do. Then Cub starts making "the face". That red hot poop face. We're trying not to laugh because his face is literally beet red. Almost purple. If I didn't know any better, I would've called an ambulance because it was so ridiculously red. The poop face by itself is very unflattering, but all the more hilarious. Anyway, we don't want him to see we're cracking up, because our little munchkin is trying really hard to focus.

Then it's over. Just like that.

Cub's back to chomping down avocado and some butternut squash I threw on the side. Easy enough. I can definitely smell the results but it seemed like a pretty uneventful poop.

I start wiping down Cub's face preparing him to get out of the high chair and I notice there's some avocado on the chair. I swipe it off. Licking the remains from my finger. Then -- STOP!! What the ??... it's EVERYWHERE. Avocado EVERYWHERE. WAIT -- that's NOT avocado!! I just ATE poop!!

I'm in shock. Not just because I ate poop, but because this crap (pun intended) is ALL over the high-chair, on Cub's little chubby legs, feet, and now my sundress and thighs, which he's rubbing his poopy heel all up and down on.

I just sit there. Frozen. My husband's telling me to do something. But I can't. I'm poop paralyzed.

My husband then jumps up and gets some wipes. I manage to somehow get Cub out of the chair and to the changing table only to find MORE poop mysteriously popping out of random folds and crevices. Where did all of this come from??? My husband's enjoying every moment of this. (Side note: he was with Cub all weekend, so this is my turn to handle the diaper change. Great.)

Cub's finally clean. We get him into the tub. All is well. But to top it off, as daddy continues to laugh at mom getting poopified, Cub does a nice fountain of urine all over daddy's jeans. Now that's my boy!

As I sit here recanting this story to you, I'm suddenly remembering... I STILL haven't washed my mouth out! Quality.

Puff the Magic Snack-on

I've been in the FI-AH, ladies!

When it rains, it pours, right?

Remember a few postings ago I was talking about being in the "fire" when life presents situations that get HOT and force us to persevere? Well, I'm in that fire right now. The Refiner's fire. I can't wait to come out of this GOLD! Nothing life-threatening or major, just the little stressors in life that force us to our knees. Fun.

That being said, today my life was saved by Baby Einstein and Baby Puffs, you know those little dissolvable cheerio-like snacks? Cub recently discovered these treats and now he can't get enough of them. What are they hiding in those things, anyway?! They should have a WARNING on the label.

So I was feeling super overwhelmed and exhausted. Wishing moms could take a "sick" or "personal" day. Yeah right! Not because I didn't want to be with Cub. Just to take a tiny moment for myself to collect some of my thoughts and, ok, I'll say it -- pout! (There's a situation I'm dealing with right now that's extremely frustrating and unfortunately nothing seems to be moving it into a better direction, except prayer!)

Anyway, so here I am, overwhelmed, emotional, trying to keep a smile on my face for the little guy, while also trying to cling to every last bit of patience I have, and nothing seems to be satisfying him. The toys he has so much fun with are suddenly boring and stupid. All he wants is mama's attention. Which would be awesome if I didn't have -- dishes piled up to the ceiling, laundry that hasn't been done in centuries, homemade baby food needing to be jarred, not to mention business stuff to handle, and the list goes on and on. Also Cub's been a little more needy lately as he's learning to crawl. He gets easily frustrated and then just wants me to do everything for him. Of course I fall into that trap every time!

So back to Puffs...

Here I am at my wits end, trying to distract Cub with every toy imaginable then I come to it. "Give him puffs and plop him in front of a Baby Einstein video!!" Now before you start throwing rattles at me and telling me what a terrible mother I am -- that's the problem with kids today, their parents use food to manipulate them and the television to babysit them!! Yes, I know! And I agree! It is terrible. But I was desperate, ladies!! Cut me some slack!

And guess what? It worked!! Cub sat in his high chair as content as can be smashing puff snacks into his little mouth and giggling with the Baby Einstein puppets. Voila!

And mommy got to put away all the dishes, jar up the food and... breathe. Ahhh.

I promise not to make a habit out of it!

Ouch.

So you guys always hear about my various sleep solutions and or, er, rather blunders. Here's another one...

This morning Cub went down for a nice, deep sleep nap. It was perfect. Until the garbage truck came in all of his splendor, thrashing and crashing around right behind Cub's window. Nice. Good Morning to you, too!

Ok, no problem. We'll catch up on nap #2...

Flash-forward to this afternoon, we're out and about having a lovely day. It's about that nap time. Cub falls asleep in the car. When we get home I have to do my famous transfer to the crib. I put his snuggy blanket in my chest for him to nuzzle into. He does. All is going well until for some reason I have to adjust him and since I don't have any free hands, I use my teeth to pull the snuggy away -- only his fingers were wrapped in the snuggy!! Nice quality love bite from mommy!

Luckily it only came with one momentary half-asleep shriek, then back to sleep.

Exhale.