Babies are magnets for crazy people

One Sunday, I took FunnyBoy for a drive in a desperate attempt to get him to nap. While he didn't fall asleep, he did calm down and we decided to do some shoe shopping. FunnyBoy loved shopping so much, he started cooing in his stroller as I pushed him around the store (or, at least, I like to think it was because he loved it so much). And his cooing attracted the attention of a seemingly-normal woman walking by.

She started off asking if she could look at FunnyBoy and was very nice about not touching him. Then she asked me his name (still very normal). Then she asked if he was my first and when I told her he is my second, she asked if I had a boy or girl at home. When I said "boy," that's when things started to get weird.

"Two boys. You keep working on that girl!" (I didn't respond and, although the comment kind of rubbed me the wrong way by how it implied that my beautiful boys weren't enough, my weirdo radar just barely went off).

Then, this. "Let me know when you need me to babysit!"

Ohhhhhhhh, yeahhhhhhh. Sure, stranger. I will be calling you annnnnnyyyyy day now. And then FunnyBoy and I made a hasty exit from the store before Ms. Too Close For Comfort decided we needed her to come home with us.

I kept a straight face, but I was laughing inside

Man, if it weren't for rude and/or dumb people, I wouldn't have anything to post about these days. Today, I stopped at the store with FunnyKid and was standing with the rear door of the car open so I could unbuckle him from his seat. As I was trying to get him out, a woman started to pull into the spot I (and the car door) was in. And even with me and part of my car in front of her, she didn't stop. She just kept slowly pulling at me.

I was kind of incredulous because there was an open spot RIGHT NEXT to the one she just had to pull into, but no, she wasn't going to have to walk any further than she had to, and she kept coming at me. I finally squished my nine-months-pregnant body as far into my backseat as I could and pulled the door against my back so she could park (which ended up being half in the spot and half in the empty spot next to it-- how's that for irony?).

As I did this, I glanced up just in time to watch her impatiently hit the gas a little... and drive straight into the little concrete bar on the ground that keeps a car from plowing into the building. She wasn't going fast enough to cause whiplash or anything, but I still found it to be poetic justice for being such a bee-yotch (seriously, parking one spot over would have added, what? An extra five feet to your journey?)

And another irony? This morning, I was the one in the car as a woman had the side door of her van open to get a bunch of boxes out at the post office (in this case, it really was the only spot that was open). And I stopped and waited patiently for her to stack all the boxes in her arms, get her door closed and move out of the way. If only everyone was as awesome as me... :)

The home stretch... if I can just keep from killing someone before the baby arrives

With less than three weeks until my due date (FYI: my due date is Christmas Day so you might want to get that holiday shopping done-- and quick), I'm used to some second looks and questions about when I'm due, what I'm having, etc. And some comments about how hard it's going to be to have a toddler and a newborn (yes, I'm aware...)

For the most part, people have been nice. Today, FunnyKid and I went into a coffee shop and immediately attracted the attention of a man sitting at a nearby table wearing a "Grandpa" T-shirt. He had really nice things to say about FunnyKid's behavior and asked a bunch of questions about my pregnancy. He wished me luck and that was that.

Except our conversation must have somehow attracted one of the workers, who bolted out of a back room and loudly asked "do you have one baby in there or two?" Stunned, I answered, "just one" and she replied, "Sorry. I had to ask."

Um, listen, bee-yotch, you did not HAVE to ask and while I have a very obvious belly (again, due to being two and a half weeks from my due date), I am nowhere near looking like I'm hauling around twins. I know this because I immediately started texting the Pretend Husband and a bunch of my friends to tell them what happened and they assured me I look like a normal pregnant woman. Then they gave me a bunch of comebacks I wished I had thought of, such as "What are you talking about? I'm not pregnant" and "Enough about me. When are YOU due?"

I wasn't prepared for someone to be so rude to be today, but I'm ready now. Just let someone try to imply I'm fat again and I will be using every zinger my friends and family gave me. You just don't mess with a pregnant woman.

It's a library... there must be a newspaper around here somewhere for you to start checking the classfied ads

A playgroup we are a part of decided to meet at a local library this week. We rotate around to different libraries on rainy days and, although I had been to this one a handful of times before, I had never met this particular children's librarian. This particular *grouchy* children's librarian.
The library, like many others, boasts a nice play area complete with a train table, a kitchen and some other fun activities.And the kitchen includes a couple of kid-sized shopping carts which, of course, the kids are eager to push around.

One of the kids in the playgroup was pushing the cart quietly around the rest of the very large (mostly empty) children's room when the librarian looked up and said, "she needs to take that back to the play area." Then, when we stepped out into the hall outside the children's room to say hello to a friend, the librarian chased us out, told us we needed to return the same shopping cart to the play area and said, "And you need to help clean up the play area."

Trying to give her the benefit of the doubt, maybe she thought we were leaving (without our coats or bags?) and maybe she thought we were the types of parents who walk out on a mess (we're not), but I didn't appreciate the tone.

And personally, if you're not a fan of kids and how they do things (they wander, they move toys around, they are prone to leaving designated areas over and over again), perhaps you might want to find another line of work. Or just, you know, chill out a bit.

Note: I feel like I repeated the word "librarian" a lot in this post and I don't mean to mock anyone but this particular woman and her lack of flexibility, especially when working with kids. The library we went to is a great one and happens to be the same place that employs my favorite librarian (and one of my most faithful readers). We'll visit again, my friend, but maybe on that lady's day off!

You know it's time to dye your hair when....

...the neighbor of your sister (the sister who is only 2 years younger than you) sees you holding your cute niece and says, "And this must be your mother..."

Time froze. I kind of stared at her in shock, fighting back the tears, as my sister said, "this is my sister" and the neighbor continued the conversation without an "Oh, I'm sorry" or "it's awfully bright out here so I didn't get a good look" or anything.

Because apparently getting mistaken for being in your fifties (at a minimum) when you're only 35 isn't a big deal to some people. I have a kiddo only a year older than my niece, for goodness sake. So yes, I'll be breaking out the hair dye and covering the gray this weekend. And trying not to cry while I do it.

Oh, so calling yourself "Friendly's" is supposed to be ironic?

The FunnyGal KAT family has been on vacation, which has been a test of our parenting skills as we take FunnyKid out for adventures and sometimes push his good nature to the limits. We've had our share of having to get up from the table in a restaurant to walk around and give the people at the next table a break from the yelling. And I have admittedly thrown some extra snacks his way at times to keep him happy or quiet.

But this morning was a new one for me. The Pretend Husband and I took FunnyKid to Friendly's for breakfast. The PH and FunnyKid got inside before I did and were greeted by a waitress who not only didn't crack a smile, but kind of snarled, "I'll be right with you." "OK," the PH replied cheerily (because, heck, we're on vacation and he was in a good mood). "OK," she mimicked? Really, could she have been making fun of the PH? No, that's not possible.

But the rest of our experience made me suspect she really may have been mocking my husband. And what a bizarre experience it was. For one thing, I didn't see the woman crack a smile the entire time we were there. Which, everyone has bad days so that's almost excusable. But some of the other stuff wasn't.

When an order for the table next to us arrived, it turned out one of the kids was given the wrong kind of pancakes. When the mom pointed it out to the waitress, she insisted she had brought the ones the grandmother had pointed to on the menu. She went so far as to bring the menu over to show the grandmother which ones she had pointed to. When the grandmother politely said those weren't the ones she thought she ordered, the waitress snapped, "Well, what do you want me to do?" Then, as the mom was asking the little boy if he would eat the pancakes in front of him, Waitress Friendly McSunshine stood there with a hand on her hip. When the boy said he wanted a different type of pancakes, she picked up his plate and stomped off without another word.

But the bizarre part was how quickly she switched back and forth between being a complete grump and being a nice person. She dropped off our food, saying, "Here you go, my friends," then started muttering about customers at another table! I even overheard her telling one older lady that she had too much perfume on, then complimenting her jewelry in the next breath. So weird. And not at all how to earn tips.

I will say that we left her a decent tip. I worked as a waitress for awhile and know how difficult a job it is-- so I have a standing rule never to stiff a server. But I will also say that woman-- if she truly is as grumpy as she came off today-- probably shouldn't be working at a family restaurant if she can't handle some of the silliness that accompanies children.

He's lucky my self-defense skills didn't kick in!

Fact: FunnyKid tends to attract a lot of attention when we're out in public (Opinion: it's because he's so stinking cute!)

So we were at Home Depot yesterday and we actually attracted a crowd who exclaimed over FunnyKid's blue, blue eyes and his beautiful smile and those chubby cheeks that make you want to gnaw on them. Seriously, the kiddo was surrounded by three female cashiers and a male customer. (His proud mama is just telling a story and not at all complaining!)

Anyway, the male customer left, the cashiers exclaimed some more, we thanked them for their compliments and we headed out to the car. The male customer, an older gentleman, was loading his car right next to ours. Seeing us, he came over and got in FunnyKid's face to try and make him smile. Thinking the guy was going to start touching FunnyKid, I undid the strap and started to lift the kiddo out of the carriage.

That's when the guy exclaimed, "Look at that smile. He's going to be President one day!" and then... incredibly... then... unbelievably... then, he smacked me on the back! (I know he was just emphasizing his point and-- as the PH pointed out-- is from a different generation and is a guy, but it still took me completely by surprise). Apparently, I don't have to worry about people touching FunnyKid (only one person has tried), but I might need to look out for me!

At least she tried...

I'm stealing this story from kat's lil sis because it's hilarious and deserves to be shared with the Internet. Her husband (kat's lil bro-in-law) met a 21-year-old waitress who is VERY.EXCITED.ABOUT.EVERYTHING. She's a talker who shares many, many, many details about her life with her customers.

It worked to her advantage in the case of lil bro-in-law because she shared that she was an experienced babysitter and dog sitter, both of which sis and bro-in-law were looking for after they had moved to the area. So they hired her one night to babysit their kids (the two-legged ones).

Lil sis was annoyed as they got into the car to go out because it seemed the babysitter was spending way more time talking about how drunk she was the night before than she did listening to instructions about the kids, their bedtimes, their routines, etc.

When they got home a few hours later, everything was calm and both kids were asleep so lil sis figured the babysitter couldn't be all that bad. And, in addition, she told them she had cleaned up the kitchen a little and put the dishes from the dishwasher away. Which was very nice of her... except for the fact that the dishes were dirty!

So, lil sis spent the last few minutes of her night going through her cabinets and taking the top few items off each pile, hoping to find all the dirty dishes and putting them back in the dishwasher.

After you...

I tried to hit some stores last week to return some items and see what kind of sales were going on, but didn't stay out after seeing the mob scene all the shopping areas were hosting. Figuring most people would be back to work this week, FunnyKid and I ventured out. And, for the most part, things were fine.

What was surprising, though, was the number of people who have no regard for the fact that I was maneuvering a baby in a stroller. I actually had people line up behind me to go in the same door rather than open the next door over for themselves. There were also one or two people who walked up to a door, went through it and kept going rather than stopping to hold it open for us.

But the worst was a 20-year-old girl who, despite the fact that I was backing out of the door and pulling the stroller after me, decided she HAD to use that door and not the perfectly good one right next to it. And apparently her business in the bookstore was urgent because she didn't want to wait for the stroller to get out of the door behind me and actually tried to slip between me and FunnyKid's stroller in order to get in.

Really?!? She was thwarted by the fact that I refused to let go of the stroller, but dashed inside as soon as the stroller cleared the doorway. Because it would have apparently been too much to ask for her to grab the door for me and FunnyKid to get through, and not at all inconvenient for the person trying to BACK OUT of the door WITH A STROLLER to hold it for another person.

Why yes, I do still have some baby weight to lose...

I will always gladly show off photos of my adorable four-month-old. I will not, however, smile while I'm doing it if you are only ask to see the photos as you backpedal from asking me when I'm due.

When am I due? Beginning of September, but I had the baby at the end of August. I will take your awkwardness as an apology.

Yes, it was the longest delivery ever. I'm talking two years long...

The good news is that kat's lil sis and the cutest nephews in the world recently moved within driving distance. We decided to celebrate that by showing up on their first weekend in their new house (you can thank me later, lil sis, for the motivation to get unpacked and have the guest room set up within days of the movers dropping everything off).

While the Pretend Husband and kat's lil bro-in-law made themselves scarce with a guys' weekend away, lil sis and I wrangled her two boys and my one. One of our excursions was out to a mall, which was a bad idea for a lot of reasons. The mall was huge and crowded and no one seemed to care that I was pushing a stroller and lil sis had a humongous double stroller. We didn't so much walk through the mall as dodge our way through it.

At one point, I left my stroller parked behind lil sis' and ran to check on something in the kids' department. As lil sis stood there, a woman eyed the strollers and asked, "Triplets?" Aside from the fact that our kids don't look alike in the least, there's the small problem that one of them is two months old, one is nine months old and the third is two years old. But when you're trying to avoid getting trampled while keeping a two-year-old occupied and out of trouble, you'll agree to anything. "Triplets? Yes. Let's go with that."

Husbands say the darndest things...

Laying in bed last night, I was reading a book about pregnancy. I got to a part about how quickly my uterus is growing and exclaimed to the Pretend Husband, "Holy cow, this says I will grow half an inch every week for the rest of my pregnancy! That's crazy!"

The PH, not really paying attention to exactly what I was saying, responded with, "You're going to get taller?!?"

Uh, yeah, PH. That makes sense. Especially seeing as how I have 13 weeks left to go. So, you can expect me to be topping out around 6 feet, 4 inches by the time the kid comes. And I'll be ready for the WNBA if we ever have a second child.

The PH is one of the most intelligent people I know and yet, he seriously thought pregnancy would make me taller?!? It's not like we don't have a whole bunch of friends who have been through pregnancy. Don't you think he would have noticed if all the women had ended up at over six feet tall, towering over their husbands? I'm questioning whether the PH should ever be left alone with our child.

Something I will never do again

Number one on the list of things I will never do again is go to Wal-Mart on a Friday night. Perhaps where you live, Wal-Mart is the heart of the community and everyone dresses appropriately, speaks clearly and has all their teeth. At the one closest to where we live? Not so much.

I actually had never been there... and now I know why. Wal-Mart on a Friday night is insane. Let's see, we were treated to half-dressed people, little kids screaming their heads off (perhaps because it was 9:30 p.m. and they were still awake?) and some of the rudest, least helpful employees I've ever met.

We had to go to the automotive section of the store for the battery the PH needed for the new love of his life, his riding lawn mower. As we stood there, two teenage boys who had been checking out the stereo systems cranked a bunch of them up then ran off laughing. While a nearby employee didn't seem to mind having to scream over the noise, I did, so I went over and turned all the stereos back down (and yes, I realize how old that statement makes me sound).

Then, while looking for a certain product to cover all the gray hair that has been invading my head, I spotted an employee stocking shelves and politely said, "Excuse me." That's when she grunted at me-- grunted! When I asked her where the magic potion was that will make my head go from looking like it's 50 to looking my age was, she muttered, "last aisle, on the wall" without looking up. Ok, then.

The last straw was as the PH and I were each lugging a heavy lawn mower battery through the store and we started hearing what the PH thought was an injured bird loudly crying out in pain. It turns out it was some type of toy that some kids in the toy aisle kept making squeal over and over and over again. We hustled to the cash register, having to scoot around a trio of 20-year-olds dressed all in camouflage with the girl trying to make out with her big, steel toe-booted, NASCAR hat-wearing boyfriend while his identically-dressed friend looked on.

And that is why I shop at Target.

We'll add this to the list of things NOT to say to a pregnant woman

From a coworker this morning:

"How far along are you? 18 weeks? You look at least six months pregnant! Your belly definitely grew over the weekend!"

Since when does "cheap crap" not include balloons and party hats?

We had a surprise dinner for my dad's birthday the other night (at the Chinese buffet... because we're classy like that). When we got to the restaurant, I was lamenting the fact that I hadn't had time to pick up some party hats and balloons for our little group (because the only thing classier than celebrating a birthday at the Chinese buffet is looking like an idiot while you do it). My little brother (who is actually more than six-and-a-half feet tall) offered to run into the discount place next door and buy hats.

Lil' bro comes running in a few minutes later without hats or balloons and starts to bitch about what happened.

"So, I walk into the store and there's color everywhere! And of course nothing is organized, so I walk up to the woman at the front and say, 'Do you have party hats?' and she looks at me like I just asked the most inappropriate question ever and says, 'Party hats?' I say, 'Yes, hats you would wear for a party?' and she says, with the biggest attitude, 'If you want party hats, you're going to have to go to one of those party stores.'" (Oh yes, because apparently a party store is the only kind of place that would carry party supplies... because you can't find that stuff in a Wal-Mart or a Target or almost any other discount store, oh no)

So lil' bro goes running through the store ("I covered that place in about 45 seconds.") but, to his chagrin, "There was nothing, not even a tiara I could make Dad wear."

We are still wondering how the discount place doesn't carry party supplies, but as one of our friends pointed out, "How much can you discount a 39-cent balloon?" So, Dad didn't get a ridiculous hat to wear for his birthday, but the Chinese buffet staff made up for it by playing a version of Happy Birthday on the restaurant sound system that sounded like it was being sung by a Mexican Mariachi band. And if that doesn't say, "Dad, we love you and hope this was the best birthday yet," I don't know what does.