Thursday, February 10, 2011

Ramblings: Mini-me hiney

I'm currently typing while doing my calming deep-breathing exercises. I had this post almost entirely done when Aidan ran behind the computer desk to hide from a sword-wielding Avery. The problem is that he sat down to hide and his bum landed right on the computer cord, yanking it from the wall and sending my post into the darkness of the computer screen. Sadly, blogspot's "autosave" hadn't autosaved nuthin. Round two begins...

I have a mental list of things to write about--well, I should say had a mental list. My mushy, squishy, mommy brain has failed me again. I'll just start with today and try to stay current from now on.

Trace and Alex had their 4 month and 10 year checkups today. It's always nice to bundle appointments--even if I had to make Alex wait a couple of months. Trace weighed in at a hefty {read: chubby} 17 pounds, placing him in the 80th percentile. Alex weighed in at 65 pounds, putting him in the 25th percentile and I can't remember his height, but it was also 25th. Much to Alex's dismay, Trace had to endure 2 shots. He only cried for about 20 seconds, but did give me the full-on, stuck out pouty lip for three minutes. He kept looking at me like he was disappointed in my decision to bring him to the torture chamber wherein a guy with cold hands that sort of looks like Grandpa pushes and pokes on all his body parts, including his tiny man-baby parts south of the border. And if that wasn't  bad enough, the imitation Grandpa then shines a bright light in his eyes, pokes something pointy in his ears, and passes him off to someone else that stabs something sharp into his blubbery thighs. Twice. BAD CHOICE, MOTHER!

I texted the stats to Jeremy, who then sent back "When I was in 7th grade, I weighed 74 pounds." Alex is well on his way to surpass that, but when he asked the doctor if he was "average" sized, he added, "cuz I don't want to be a midget." {read: like my midget mother} Jeremy finally grew when he was about 17 and he managed to make it to about 6'3", so mixed with my pathetic 5'4", he may have a shot at almost 6 feet.

I asked Jeremy how he remembers how much he weighed in 7th grade--that seems sort of a random thing to remember to me. Especially because I'm pretty sure he'd only get 1 or 2 out of the 5 kids birthdays correct. And that's even including the twins' two-for-one birthdate. And also impressive considering this is the guy that was supposed to return something for me and on the way there, forgot entirely where he was headed and just went on to work. But apparently he has the ability to remember what weight division he wrestled in every grade.

Which brings me to another issue: the wrestling outfits. Yikes. I've been informed that they're called singlets, but to me they are really just giant, spandex onesies.  And because it's a "sport," its considered entirely acceptable to roll around in all sorts of compromising positions, grabbing at anything and everything you can manage to get a grip on, in fully-exposing spandex bodysuits. Now, I'm not making fun of the actual wrestlers. Those dudes are tough and strong. I just feel badly that they have to wear such revealing leotards. But apparently the Sims don't mind wearing them--look how happy they are strutting around in their spandex. Why do pretend video game guys need singlets, anyway? Weird.
And I really, really wanted to find some pictures of Jeremy back in his highschool wrestling days when he weighed as much as a fourth grader. But alas, they are nowhere to be found.  His mom (hint hint) or sisters (hint hint) might have to get some to me. So this will have to suffice---see what I mean about compromising positions?


Even though everyone keeps telling me that Trace looks just like Jeremy, I found something that he shares with his mommy. Dimples, baby. I just wish mine were as cute. Half of his 17 pounds resides in his hiney cheeks. Man, I wish I had a teeny tiny singlet to squish him into...