Eat Your Heart Out Munchkin Coroner!

Growing up one of my favorite sounds to hear around the house was my father singing. Whether he stuck with the original lyrics or switched them up to describe what he was doing at the time, didn’t matter. It was a comforting sound I hoped to someday fill my own home with.

Fortunately the inspiration to break into song at any moment for any reason comes easily to me. In fact, I rarely ever speak to Lily without singing when we’re alone. I can only hope she will someday be as comforted by my voice as I was by my dad's. So far, it’s no going so good…

I had just finished the second verse in Ding Dong The Witch Is Dead and was especially impressed with my “munchkin voice” that morning. My favorite part was coming up and I felt confident enough to really give it my all! I lost myself in song…

 “…NOT ONLY IS SHE MERELY DEAD SHE’SSS REEALLLY MOST

SINCERRRELY DEAAAADD!!!”

My munchkin land crumbled around me when I heard Lily gasp from the bedroom “Gahuuu!!”  I had torn her from her sleep with the fear that a group of fallen munchkins had broken into our home.

I rushed into the dark bedroom “It’s just me pumpkin!”

“You scare me when you sing!!!” She cried

“….I’LL GET YOU MY PRETTYYYYY!”

Break A Sweat

I had just decided to treat my colon to a Valentines Day cleanse when I thought to myself “Hold on! Valentines Day is a holiday fabricated by The Man to make even more money, and I don’t hang with him!" I love my colon everyday and shouldn’t be afraid to show it. I went straight to GNC and bought every fiber infused product my dear cousin Zach pushed on me as well as an all natural calorie burner (w/out a discount I might add!)

 My Lichi calorie burner causes my pits and palms to sweat while sending a cold chill through my body. Physically I’m exploding with the energy of a seasoned break dancer while my brain and eyes struggle to stay awake. I can’t focus or concentrate. My emotional state is on a constant roller coaster of euphoria and uncontrolled, anxious laughter. I have a strong desire to wear nothing but active wear and I’m peeing fluorescence. There’s obviously something special about this pill and I'm hooked after just one dose!

Next up on Somebody's Mother: Will Jessica kick her pill habit or finally join her local break dance team?  

I Don't Ask For Much

26 has led to a lot of firsts for me. The most important being that I’ve finally imagined my very own “Dream Guy”! Being too picky can lead to heart ache and loneliness but I’m confident I won’t have to hold out long before finding this one.

My dream guy…or dream MAN will have the build of a husky lumbar jack with a full but short, well kept beard. Preferably red or any shade of medium to dark brown.

He will wear red flannel and winter caps daily, with suspenders on occasion. He’ll eat mostly breakfast meat dipped in maple syrup and say things like “Do something to treat yourself will ya!” and “Why don’t you take a couple hundred from the sock drawer” while waving his linked sausage at me in an authorative manner.

He’ll rub my feet (with my socks on!) and slap my ass before leaving a room. He’ll listen to The Blues and Jazz and play something real sexy like the saxophone.

He will have a dog he would put his life on the line for (jumping into the dangerously rocky waters of a river to save “his boy” from the tree limb he climbed onto after falling in up stream a ways) and nurse birds back to health.

He will have just the right amount of chest hair and a voice so deep and soulful it makes you weep.

…Or he will be Lil Wayne.

Lies I've Told: Part 1

*Junior year I brought my little sister to her first High School party; where I proceeded to tell everyone that she used to collect kittens in a pillow case, hang them over a tree branch and use them as a pinata when she was bored.

*In middle school I asked my parents if my very best friend, Savannah, could sleep over. They said yes naturally. However, when she arrived I stopped her at the door and explained "Hey, my parents really said you couldn't sleep over but I'm just going to sneak you into my bedroom" to which she understandable responded "WHAT!?? Why are you doing this!???" I told her I didn't care what those "SOB's" had to say and guided her carefully down the hall. When we got to the living room doorway I asked her to, on my signal, leap into my bed room. We were to time this as I was walking by to shield her from my parents view. Immediately after completing the ridiculous mission...I came clean.

*I used to date a psychopath. When I was finished and felt the increasing need to separate myself from him I gave him the only logical explanation I could come up with (also the only reason I thought he may be the slightest bit accepting of): "I'm in love with Savannah."
(side note: Savannah was very surprised to hear about it...3 years later)

*DMX is my dad

* More recently I convinced my very paranoid cousin that the cramps and pressure she was feeling in her "bum" were classic symptoms of "Anal Labor". A condition where "the baby actually enters the colon and is delivered through the anus."

*And even more recently I sent the following text to her just as paranoid brother:
"Hey just making sure you're alright. There's a guy going around raping all GNC employee's. Hope you're not working tonight..."
to which he responded:
"quick question. What possesses you to say such ridiculous things?"
I guess I underestimated him....looks like someone grew up...

When Life Gives You Lemons…Pass Them To Your Children

Normally I wouldn’t ask a 4-year-old if the increasing visibility of the veins in my hand were something to worry about, however, this morning the issue seemed pressing and she was the only one around.

“ahhhhh-hah..wellum……….…haha….you ARE worried” She said…obviously confused by the question.

“But SHOULD I be? Would you be worried?”  

“No. uhhh….....uh-oh… I have the same thing!”

Oops…

Her day didn’t get any better when I found her standing at the refrigerator eating a stick of butter.

“What are you doing!? Butter will clog your arteries! You could have a heart attack and DIE!!!”

“…but only old people?”

“Old people….and little girls who eat sticks of butter!”

I was slapped back to reality when she slowly placed the butter back in the refrigerator, walked to an end table in the living room and fidgeted quietly with her fingers. I couldn’t believe what I just told her.

“Heyyy…guess what...” I said while cautiously approaching her “…You can’t have a heart attack!” Surprise!

“YOU WERE TRICKING ME!??” She screamed in relieved laughter

“Yes, a trick! That’s all! Just a trick! I’m so sorry!! Here… let’s have some butter..”

Parenting is hard…

Fruits of My Labor

As I watched myself, performing fellatio on a banana, in the rearview mirror this morning, I realized two very important things:

1.            I need to put some serious distance between me and the mirror

               And

2.            Lily is in the back seat.

The things I do out of boredom are beginning to get scary! Worried she might have seen and formed some strange banana complex, I decided to feel the situation out.

“So……did you see any squirrels today?”

“What Mom? Hey did you know that used to be a mill building and they gutted it out and I went there with you to get ice cream and ride in the elevator!!?”

Phew!

Up Your Butt and Around The Corner

Im 26 and if you truly are only as old as you feel then I'm confused!

 My 60-year-old self goes to bed around 8 Oclock and only shaves her legs on the Leap Year. My 11-year-old self  is going through her second "awkward stage" and still pales at the thought of a highfive...(so maybe I was the only kid on my street who didnt enjoy a celebratory highfive! I still participated in secret hand shakes. They're more intimate).
Where is my inner 26-year-old? Is she lost beneath the layers of neurosis and unresolved foot issue's (there are only four: 1. feet with bad circulation, 2. finding feet in my food or hair, 3. I cant take anyone with flat feet seriously and 4. I get nervous if I have to say "toes" out loud.)
It's even harder to be yourself when you have kids. I can no longer fully enjoy sexual harassment without screaming "I'M SOMEBODY'S MOTHER!!" to the sky. And nevermind your solitude. Even when I'm alone I find myself watching my language and eating all my peas, just in case she finds out and holds it against me.
Between trying to finding my old self and trying to be who I want Lily to be, this is what I've become.
In short, I have no idea what this Blog is about. I'm just going to write.
Love me, Jessica.