Google This

There are some times more than others when it really hits me how much my life has changed since we had kids.  This was one of those times.  We had the whole gang in the car: The Esposo, Peapod, The Edge and me, and we were driving back home from visiting family and friends in Michigan.

The Esposo and I were trying to figure out which Michigan football game we should come back for in the fall, so naturally I Googled "Michigan Football Schedule."

Now, when you go to type something into Google on your iPhone/smartphone, it shows a list of all the things you've recently searched for, right?

Try as I might not to look exactly like the middle-aged mom that I am, my list of recent Google searches exposed me just as clearly as a big, high-waisted pair of Mom Jeans.

Here's the list of recently Googled terms on my iPhone:

• How do peanuts grow 
• Conjunctivitis 
• Tornados
• Beastie Boys (gotta be something in there for me, right?)
• Curly Sexy Mousse reviews (hey, I was in CVS, what can I say?)
• Bethesda Public Pool hours 
• Mars
• Bethesda swimmer 2012 Olympics
• Cheetah

I like to think that when I was young, hip and single, the list would have been much different.

The sad truth is, 1) there were no iPhones back then and, 2) the list would have been exactly the same, minus the conjunctivitis.

No Llamas

This just in:  The Edge does not like llamas.

Actually, to be specific, The Edge does not want any llamas in his room.  Now, I'm no expert on Bethesda Maryland, but I feel fairly certain that we don't have a big llama problem here.

In fact, I have seen no llamas in Bethesda at all.  Or really in the entire DC metro area, now that I think of it. And we have been to the zoo three times.

But the other night, The Edge sat down on the floor with a piece of beige construction paper and a green crayon.  When he finished, he enlisted his sister Peapod's expertise to help him affix the paper to his bedroom door.

(Peapod's expertise is that she knows where we keep the tape.)

Moments later, I walked by The Edge's bedroom door.

Here's what I saw:

Four misshapen circles and a line.

Me:  "What's this on your door, buddy? Did you draw this?"

The Edge (indignantly): "No it's a siiiiiiiiiiign!"

Me:  "Oh.  Ok.  What's it got on it?"

The Edge (yelling now): "NO LLAMAS!"

Me:  "No llamas?  Really?"

Peapod: "Yeah Mom.  No llamas.  The Edge doesn't want any llamas to go into his room."

Me:  "Oh.  I see. Why no llamas, sweetpea?"

The Edge (rolling his eyes and exhaling): "Because llamas are baaaaad!"

Of course.

No further questions, your honor.

Bag Lady

This time it's been an inexcusable 9 months since my last entry.  Whoops.

So what, after 9 months, would be so compelling an event as to draw me back to the blogosphere to write about it? Could it be putting our Pasadena house on the market and selling it 13 days later, while we were on vacation?

Nah.

How about packing up all our stuff into over 100 boxes in preparation for moving from  LA to DC?

Yawn.

Well then how about my emergency abdominal surgery two days before the movers showed up?

BOR-ING!

Hmmm.  I got it!  Visualize this:  a poignant retelling of our family's multi-stage trip across the country, with gorgeous photos of the places we stopped and people we spent time with along the way.

Nope.

Let me cut to the chase:  we moved a bunch and now we are settled in Bethesda, Maryland. There.

Ok, now here is what has motivated me to put fingers to keyboard and write again after a 9 month hiatus:

A NEW BAG!

But not just any bag.  A NON DIAPER BAG.

Let me be crystal clear:  I HAVE PURCHASED A BAG THAT IS NOT DESIGNED TO CARRY DIAPERS, PEOPLE.  Here it is, in all it's glory:

For those keeping score, you might recall that Alex was potty trained way back in November of 2011. I know.  I was there.  But I just couldn't wrap my head around the idea that, after 5+ years with a diaper bag glued to my shoulder, I would not need to carry a bag designed specifically to lug an emergency stash of Huggies and the associated paraphernalia with me at all times.

The Esposo thought I was out of my mind.  But I simply could not get myself to ditch the diaper bag.  "Lookit all the awesome pockets!" I enthusiastically pointed out.  Yes.  And 'lookit the holes in the seams and the grunge on the bottom that I like to refer to as "clean dirt" because I've tried to wash it out so many times.'

But then a couple weekends ago, we gave away all our extra diapers to another family.  That's when it finally sunk into my fat head that I no longer have any babies in diapers anymore. And I decided to part with my beloved diaper bag.

I was sad for a bit.  No more drooly little babes wrapped in swaddling blankets, cooing at me from the crib.  Then I hit myself over the head with a bat and came to my freaking senses.

YEEEHHHAAAAAAAA!!!!!!

I'm free.

And the new bag is super cute, if I do say so myself.