Fluid Pudding : Page 91 of 123 : It's the old small talk!

Nobody likes The Pudding Probe.

For the past three years or so, I’ve been doing the review writing gig for BlogHer, and even though I sometimes twirl counter-clockwise in my cocksure skirt and my confidence starts getting all monkeyed, deep down I know that I really do love writing the reviews, and I know a few of you enjoy reading them.

Why do I enjoy writing the reviews? Obviously, it’s fun to try out new products. (When you review new makeup, you score the opportunity to stand in a bathroom and act like Pat Benatar! When you review kid clothes, you get to dress your kids up and let them act like superstars! Sometimes, when the urge strikes and there aren’t many rules to follow, you can throw on the Paganini and let people watch you eat. It never gets boring!) To me, the best part always comes at the tail end when I get to send out the little “HEY! You just won!” e-mail if the review is attached to a giveaway. I love that. 100%.

I’m typing this out really quickly just because I have a question for you. I’m thinking of taking the reviews to a website that I’ll dedicate solely to my reviews. The main reason I’m considering this sounds strange, and I’m still sort of working it all out in my head. When I look at my stats (which I rarely do, because I don’t really know how to get to them without a lot of dizzying clicks and errors) it seems that most of you don’t really care about the reviews. With that said, I know that there is a large group of people out there who really dig the review/giveaway sort of thing, and some of them dig it because they’re sort of needing it. As much as I want Fluid Pudding readers to win Every Single Thing I Ever Give Away, I also know at least three of you who roll your eyes every time I put the little dotted line with the giveaway links at the bottom of my posts.

Anyway. Typetypetypetypetype. Can you tell I have to leave here in ten minutes to pick up the kids?! I’m thinking about a website dedicated to the reviews, and I’m wondering what the name should be, and when I said The Pudding Probe over on Facebook, I had a few people gently shake their heads and remind me that medically speaking, a probe is not such a great thing. I also threw out Pudding Perlustration, but come on. Now I’m just showing off the fact that I have a big thesaurus. At the time of this post, the most recent suggestion (by Neil) was The Scrutinizing Pudding. I’m liking that, too. Any ideas? If I choose your name, I might give you something. Like I said, I’m still working it all out, and I need to leave the house in three minutes.

While you’re here, don’t forget that I’m giving away a copy of Let’s Panic as well as some energy-conserving light bulbs from GE! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Shorties can give you the whim-whams!

EDITED TO ADD: A winner has been selected! Congratulations, Meg!!!

When I first found out I was pregnant with Meredith, it was early September and I was glowing and doing beautiful things like taking folic acid and pre-natal vitamins and eating lots of fruit to build the most perfect environment for the tiny miracle who was being sculpted in my precious uterine apartment.

At the end of October, when I was starting my second trimester, I had to have an emergency appendectomy. From that point forward, my pregnancy was filled with days spent on the couch and lots of moaning, and suddenly I had gained over sixty pounds with three months left to go, and SCIATICA!!! In other words, there’s a lot to expect when you’re expecting, and despite what you’re led to believe, not all of those forty weeks are spent standing in a meadow wearing a gauzy dress and holding a bouquet of fresh flowers while the wind gently caresses your enlarged (aka swollen and painful) chest and your glowing (often acne-ridden) face.

I had the final appointment with my obstetrician on my actual due date. I was eighty pounds up, and Meredith was measuring in at ten pounds. At the appointment my doctor threw around phrases like “perineal massage” and “pain threshold” and words like “episiotomy” and “ripping” and “stitches” and do you know me? Because if you know me, you know that I’m highly uncomfortable talking about body parts—especially if those body parts are (mostly) contained in my drawers. (People who really know me are furiously nodding their heads right now. Because They Know.)

Anyway, right after the appointment, my mom drove me to Houlihan’s, where I sat and stared at a French dip sandwich for thirty minutes as I pondered the ripping and the stitches. Before we left, I went to the restroom and BLOINK! I felt something fall out and splash. I prayed to God that it wasn’t the baby and at the same time I prayed to God that it WAS the baby, because That Was Easy! and I looked down and it was NOT the baby. It was—are you ready—my MUCOUS PLUG! And really? All I could do was: 1. Try to remember if I was supposed to somehow recover the mucous plug., and 2. Laugh. Maniacally. Because pregnancy can often be absurd. And there was really no way to prepare for the ludicrous side. Until now.

Friends, I’m here to announce that two of my very favorite people in the world have published a book (it was released today!) and that book is titled Let’s Panic About Babies! Alice and Eden have kept me in stitches (non-perineal) for years, and the thought of them writing a satirical pregnancy guide almost makes me want to get pregnant again. (It really does. Almost.) AND, the most excellent news? They’re letting me give a copy away here at Fluid Pudding! Between now and Friday (March 4), leave a comment below and at 11:00pmCST, I’ll fire up the random number generator to choose one of you to win! You don’t have to be pregnant to win! You don’t have to be a mom! You don’t even have to be a woman! You just have to be a Fluid Pudding reader. Because, to quote Charlie Sheen, Fluid Pudding readers are built with Adonis DNA.

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Before you leave you brush your teeth with a bottle of What?!

Meredith had a friend over on Friday night, and this was a Big Deal, because it was the first time we’ve ever had one of her friends over for the night. I picked the kids up from school, I took them straight to the theater to see Gnomeo and Juliet (which they loved and I sort of hated), and then we came back to the house for pizza. At about 8:00, the friend busted out Just Dance for the Wii, and the girls started dancing. I noticed that they spent a lot of time dancing to one song in particular, but I didn’t pay much attention to what the song was.

On Saturday night, Jeff told me that Meredith had purchased the song on iTunes and that I should listen to it, because when they listened to it in the car, it became clear pretty quickly that it’s not a song for a seven year old. Apparently, Ke$ha, who spells her name with a dollar sign because she’s awe$ome and has dirty feet, brushes her teeth with a bottle of Jack because when she leaves for the night she ain’t comin’ back. (She’s says she’s trying to get a little bit tipsy, and later boasts that boys are trying to touch her junk, but she’ll kick them to the curb unless they look like Mick Jagger. Apparently, she doesn’t have a care in the world, because she has plenty of beer (along with the aforementioned bottle of Jack), and as long as the police don’t shut them down, the party don’t stop. Also, she’s going to fight until she sees the sunlight.)

My gut reaction was to immediately delete the song from Meredith’s iPod and replace it with the stupid Kidz Bop version. Hhhhhhhh. Deep down, I knew that was a crappy solution. Yesterday afternoon when Meredith wanted to listen to her iPod, I told her that I needed to talk to her for a bit.

Me: We need to talk about Tik Tok.

Meredith: What about it?

Me: Well, do you know how you talk at school about drugs and alcohol and how they’re not good and that it’s important to stay away from them if you want to stay smart and creative and healthy?

Meredith: Yes.

Me: I know you like the music behind Tik Tok, but the words are all about a girl who’s not so bright and she drinks a lot of alcohol and gets herself into trouble at a party and just sort of hopes that the police don’t show up.

Meredith: I didn’t get that, but I did hear her say that she was going to fight.

Me: Yep. She also wants to fight.

Harper: And she wants to brush her teeth with a bottle of Jack.

Me: Yes.

Meredith: That’s a dollar wasted.

We’ve deleted Ke$ha and replaced her with the Spanish version of a Selena Gomez song that we like. Selena may be kissing Justin Bieber, but at least she’s not singing songs about pouring vodka directly into her eyeballs. And if she IS, we won’t know, because my Spanish is a little rusty, and Meredith’s Spanish is limited to numbers and a few common phrases. Once again: Parenting is hard/easy.

It’s the final day for Round One of my lightbulb giveaway, and I would love for you to win. People have been leaving some great tips on how they conserve energy around the house! Come on over for your chance to win! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I swam across, I jumped across for you. Oh, what a thing to do.

Every time the outside temperature goes up (or down) by forty degrees or so, I start feeling the urge to buy new threads. And that’s sort of funny, because Fluid Pudding New Threads can be summed up as follows: Every spring/summer I purchase five short sleeved t-shirts to wear with my skirts, and every fall/winter I purchase five long sleeved t-shirts to wear with my sweaters and jeans and corduroy pants. I replace my staples as necessary. (For example, I’m currently down to one pair of jeans, and they’re all frayed at the bottom. I’ll probably wait on this until the fall, unless I can catch a good Gap sale between now and then. (I have a gift card.))

Last week the outside temperature hit seventy degrees, and because I now have friends who use the metric system, I’m proud to say that: Last week the outside temperature hit twenty one degrees! Anyway, I somehow fell into a website called ModCloth (you probably know them because you’re so good at this sort of thing), and I fell in love with this bright yellow jacket. (OUCH! I paid a LOT more for that jacket than $23.99! What the la la la la laaaaaaah! I’mGoingToPretendIDidn’tSeeThatPrice!!!) Anyway. (I CAN’T pretend I didn’t see that price! The jacket was $55 when I bought it! And that was a HUGE splurge for me! HUGE. My heart is beating in my eyeballs right now. Hhhhhhhh. No one got hurt. No one got hurt. No one got hurt.)

Anyway. The next time you see me strolling around town, I’m going to look a little something like this.

When I started this post, I was all, “Hey! Look! I’ve gone three years without a real jacket, and now I have a real jacket! It’s yellow!” But instead, now I feel sort of, “Hey. Look what I just spent entirely too much money on. And because of it, I’m ending my sentences with prepositions and not even exploring alternatives. Time to eat some Crisco and stop washing my hair. I’ll be crying in the shower if you need me.”

I also grabbed this dress. When it comes back in stock, it will probably sell for five dollars. Don’t look at me.

UPDATE!!! UPDATE!!! I felt so gross about this that I actually called ModCloth and said, “I need to ask a really bold question. I ordered a jacket one week ago today, and I just noticed that the jacket is now selling for less than half of what I paid and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah…” Anyway. They are giving me a store credit for the price difference. And that’s incredible. Because I now have my eye on this dress. And how cute is this?! And now I’m happy again! (It really doesn’t take much.) SO, next week I’m going to tell you about how I lost my mucous plug when I was pregnant with Meredith, and I’m coupling the story with a book giveaway! Stay tuned!
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Did you know that I’m giving away light bulbs? Because I am. And I would love for you to win one. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

From Thursday to Today.

It has been a busy few days at the Pudding Ranch. Last Thursday we had Parent/Teacher Conferences at school, and those went pretty well. It appears that Meredith takes after me in the Disorganization department, but what she lacks in order she makes up for in creative writing. Harper rarely eats her lunch (as evidenced by the nearly full box she returns home with each afternoon), but she’s rocking the math problems. All is well.

On Friday, I took Harper to have her hearing checked. I’ve reached a point where I no longer think it’s cute when she misinterprets what I’m saying. (Roast = Toast. Miss Debbie = Miss Daddy. Haircut = Bear Cub. (Why in the hell would I ever say that I’m in desperate need of a bear cub?)) According to the audiologist, her hearing is phenomenal, although she does have quite a bit of negative pressure in her eustachian tubes. (Airhead jokes are not welcome here.) Eventually, this might lead to the removal of tonsils/adenoids, but until she begins to complain about pain or starts experiencing chronic sinus infections, we’re just going to pretend that everything is A-ok!

On Saturday, Meredith woke up with an explosive cough. We took her to the doctor, where she was diagnosed with parainfluenza, or The Croup. She was given a cough suppressant, a pain killer, and a steroid. The steroid, which makes her act nuts, has been classified as one of the top five worst tasting medicines of all time, but our pediatrician has learned that if you chase the medicine with a green lollipop, the taste immediately goes away. Red lollipops will not work. For reasons completely unknown to everyone, the lollipop has to be green. I learned Saturday afternoon that when one is looking for green lollipops, the most difficult thing in the world to find is green lollipops. BUT, find them I did, and yes. Crappy medicine + green lollipop = Tolerable. Excellent. (She took her last dose today, and we have one lollipop to spare.)

Sunday. After church we worked on the house and Jeff’s parents came over for dinner. I made rice bowls with tomatoes and corn and beans and WHEE! EVERYONE LOVES THAT I’M A VEGETARIAN!!! NO ONE IS STRESSED ABOUT IT AT ALL!!! (Eight months and going strong. Did I mention that we now have Baby Back Rib Chips in the house? Crazy.)

Yesterday morning found Meredith and Jeff at the orthodontist at 8:00. At 10:00, my mom came up and she and the girls and I went to see Never Say Never. And then I went home and got all crabby on my Facebook page because: In a world of Justin Bieber haters, I do NOT hate Justin Bieber. I know! (I’m forty, meaning I’m old enough to be his mother’s older sister.) You know, I’m tired of people hating someone just because it’s fun/popular/whatever. (It would be easy for me to hate Glenn Beck. VERY easy. But I don’t! Life? Short!)

Today? Today I’ve been volunteering at the school and working on the house. It seems that Meredith is having a friend over this weekend, and we haven’t really done that in a few years, so it’s time to clean bathroom floors and put away laundry and all of the other crap that I tend to hate doing.

Did you know that I’m giving away light bulbs? Because I am. And I would love for you to win one. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Oh my Goth!

I throw in my sponge! (My make-up sponge.) My inconsolable soul able to weep these tears no more. No more!

I hereby draw the line. (Around my eye!) ((With a felt-tipped applicator that gives me ultimate control.))

Oh! My mumpish existence. If you blur your perception, a fish appears to be consuming my bulbus oculi. Eye? Ideally, I’ll be able to recreate his brother on my other side.

(I’m now ready for tomorrow’s Parent Teacher Conferences.)

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The Puddings are saving energy and giving away two $50 GE energy smart LED light bulbs! Come on over for a chance to win! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Typical Night at The Puddings

So, a few days back we celebrated the ten year anniversary of Jeff’s proposal.

That night, Jeff and I found ourselves in bed together (it was time!), and we began talking.

Me: Well, it looks like our ten year anniversary is coming up, and according to the website I’ve pulled up on my iPod, you are to present me with diamonds or tin.

Jeff: Is beer still available in tin cans?

Me: Stop it. This website suggests you buy a copy of the movie Tin Cup for me. Don’t do that.

Jeff: Yikes. I won’t.

Me: It also thinks we should get a German Shepherd. You know, named Rin Tin Tin.

Jeff: No.

Me: Don’t get me a Neil Diamond CD.

Jeff: I’m starting to fall asleep.

Me: The tenth anniversary flower is the daffodil. I wonder who came up with that?

Jeff: MensaPizzaWagon.

Me: How about a trip to a South African diamond mine?

Jeff: . . .

Me: I’ve never really wanted a tennis bracelet, but I sort of feel like I SHOULD want one. But what I REALLY want is a Fabergé egg. I want the world. I want the WHOLE world! I want to lock it all UP in my pocket! It’s MY bar of chocolate!

Jeff: ZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzz…

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The Puddings are saving energy and giving away two $50 GE energy smart LED light bulbs! Come on over for a chance to win! ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Psst! I’m ready for skirt season!

Do you guys know Isabella Golightly? She lives in Australia and despite the fact that she has never had a proper fish taco, she’s absolutely delightful. A few weeks back, I visited her Etsy shop and ordered a flatpack for schlepping around my keys and phone and cash card when I go to the gym. (HA HA HA HA!!! I don’t go to the gym! When I say Gym, I mean grocery store, school, or Gokul.) ((By the way, Gokul is opening their Loop location on Thursday if any of my lunch people want to hook up for lunch in the coming weeks!))

Anyway. My flatpack arrived in the mail yesterday, and I didn’t even realize it was there because I’m afraid to get my mail. (Not because of this. Currently, our driveway is a solid sheet of ice. In fact, if my milkman is reading this right now, he’s yelling, “Yeah! And I almost cracked my butt on that ice yesterday morning carrying your half gallons up to the house! I rock a mic like a vandal, light up a stage and wax a chump like a candle!”) This morning the lovely Isabella asked if I had received the pouch, so Jeff risked his life by sliding down the hill to the mailbox, and yes.

I’m in love with this flatpack, and I’m not quite sure how I got by without it. (I’m looking at you, Yesterday!) ((This month, all proceeds will benefit Queensland Flood Relief!)) (((I’m afraid this photo makes the pouch look HUGE. It’s actually quite small—the perfect size to hold my phone, my cash and insurance cards, my lip stuff, license, and iPod. Everything I Need.)))

On a semi-related note, on the way home from my book club meeting on Sunday, I had ten minutes to stop by a fabric sale before the store closed. It took about three minutes to get over the feeling of being completely overwhelmed, an additional two minutes to remember how much fabric I need to make the skirt that I tend to make, and five more minutes to find two fabrics that I love. When the sun comes out and the corduroy pants are thrown back into the top of the closet, I will be sporting a daisy skirt.

Unless, of course, I’m sporting a green pepper skirt.

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It’s about to get cat-eyed all up in this place!

Fluid Pudding first came into existence back in September of 2001. Since that time, I’ve been asked for a headshot something like six times. Maybe. AND, if we were to play the association game and you were to say Headshot!!!, I would come back with Distressing! or TheCraterousPoresOnMyCheeks!! or IrritableBowelSyndrome!!! Anyway, last week it came up again. SO, I flipped around through my Flickr set and found a photo my mom took of our family sitting on a couch during the holiday season.

Because it’s not a headshot unless it contains One Head, I cropped out my family and cloned my sweater over Meredith’s face to come up with this.

Heh. I know. I know! Jeff says it looks like I’m sort of sad and wrapped up in a blanket on a couch in an undisclosed location (enjoying a bowl of roz bi laban in Egypt with Anderson Cooper).

Anyway. I finally ate an amaretto-flavored sucker and contacted a friend and am getting the wheels in motion to have an actual photograph taken of my head in about a month. (I need a haircut, and the woman who cuts my hair lives five hours away, so I’m sort of on her schedule for these things. Have I ever mentioned that my life is sometimes decorated with quirky spoons and wrenches?) I’m thinking I would like a serious photo in case I ever decide to become complex and need a photo to represent the reflectiveness, plus a photo that’s a bit more whimsical? Maybe? Can one be whimsical at this age? Oh dear God, why am I crying? HEADSHOT!!!

The real reason I invited you over here today is to tell you that I ordered some liquid eyeliner last night, and it’s only a matter of time (about nine days, actually) before I start looking a little more like this.

How do you like me now, Anderson Cooper? ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Our groundhogs saw their shadows. I’m sorry, St. Louis.

Meredith: Mommy, do you know what Hypohogia is?

Me: I’ve never heard of it!

Meredith: Hypohogia is a rare made up condition where a groundhog throws up and coughs so hard that its teeth fall out. I saw it on the news. With this condition, groundhogs sneeze so hard that they fall to the ground. Seriously.

Harper: I’m making this up, but I saw on the news that a groundhog with Hypohogia once sneezed so hard that his house shook!

Meredith: And once? A groundhog threw up and coughed at the same time and actually caught hypoDOGia, which made the groundhog act like a dog for the rest of its life.

Harper: For real?

Meredith: Yes.

Harper: For real for real?!

Meredith: No. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>