WTF - You Named Yours That?

Readers beware - this post contains words such as penis and vagina.  Oh wait, I think I was trying to say it was PG-13.  Maybe because it contains the words penis and vagina.

Everyone has special names in their lives.

Our significant other can be our "Pookey Bear," or "Smoochie Pants."

Makes me wonder if the trend of naming that Thang (you know THAT thang, down there Smoochie Pants) is still in full force.

Don't get me wrong.  We had our pet names for IT.  Something we used and laughed about in the early days of dating and marriage.  Then we simply stopped using them, or maybe forgot about them.

Secretly I think childbirth makes parents look at all of that plumbing in a different way.  How can you still call that part that created half of the miracle screaming in the crib My Dingaling? Or The One Eyed Wonder Muscle?  Plus as parents some of us even use funny names for our child's parts as they grow up (Hoo Hah, Tinkleman, Penis.)  Finally, with changing diapers and looking at that stuff all day - it kind of takes away the fun of MR. Fancy Pants.  When Mom and Dad hit the sack (and not for sleep) they usually don't go for the cuteness of, ""Is Mr. Fancy Pants ready for some Loosey Goosey to come and visit?"

So in homage to all those out there, I took a silent poll of friends asking if they still, well, you know, have a name.  Surprisingly all said YES!  And some shared:  (Disclaimer, in no way does any of these names resemble anyone I know willingly or unwilling.  And not a single one is MINE!)

No, I am not talking about the fur burger or baby cannon, the kidney poker, or joy stick.  I'm talking about real names!

His:  Mr. Rogers   Hers:  Kitty Kat

His:  Pelvis   Hers:  Pussilla

His:  O'Toole   Hers:  O'Hare

His:  Dickey  Hers:  Honey

His:  Lord Voldemort   Hers:  Hermoine

His:  Skinny   Hers:  Hairy

His:  Moonshine   Hers:  CuntryPie

If you don't have a name and decide you can always go with movie names to get a good laugh.  Some of my girlfriends had me in stitches:

No Country for Old Men
The Abyss
The Never Ending Story
Taken
 Of course, Take 2

Now for the guys:  (disclaimer, this my girlfriends list)

GoldFinger
Lethal Weapon
The Hobbit
Easy Rider
The Never Ending Story

and we all laughed on:  Gone in 60 Seconds

So lighten up and have some fun.  Really, get back to those days when you used to chase each other around the house saying "Mr. HooHah has a story to tell Starshine!"  But of course make sure the kids are either a:  Asleep or B: at a friends because That Grey Area is not responsible for any therapy bills resulting from the above story.

WTF - Hair in a Can?

Ronco, (memba the Santa riding the electric razor every Christmas) now has the GLH system.

The Great Looking Hair System.  Another name for Hair in a Can.

Or spray paint hair.

They call it "hair thickener" but from the pictures, it's just a spray "fro" for your do.

Makes me wonder:


This product would be perfect if you were trying to get rid of a boyfriend.  Spray under your arms, down your legs and in your Hoochie Coochie, look at him with "What?"  Watch him run for the hills.

What if I wanted to be the bearded lady?  Would this product work with that?

And if comes out with any shampoo, ahem, that means with water - so what happens if it rains?  "Earle your sideburns are running down yo neck."

Won't harm the growth of your hair?  Hello?  I thought we were using this because there was nothing there?

What does the "Finishing Shield" do to perfect your look?  Create a "Cone of Silence" on your head? Or make your hair look like lacquer?

"Ideal for fancy dressing."  Can you picture it?  "Shirley, can you spray me a Mowhawk for the Duck Dynasty party?  No honey, I don't want chest hair today, just a little more head hair.  No honey, not that type of head hair."

And their biggest claim to fame - It makes you look younger.

"Did you see Darryl over there with the full 'fro' on his head?  He looks like 1970's Soul Train!"

So if you want to feel more viral, if you want to be younger, or you just want to scare the hell out of everyone - the "hair in a can," the "spray paint hair," the "pubic hair for your head."

Pardon me, I'm going to go chase the dog down and try this thing out.

How can I be too stupid to date?

I was researching a story I had on my mind and wondered how hard it was to sign up for the dating services.  No, I am 28 years happily married, it was RESEARCH!  I picked one of the biggest ones.

The first screen looked like a piece of paper that read:

Me, I figured it was just a welcome screen, so I clicked on the Let's Get Started Button.

This is what I got back:

And that, my friends is why I have been happily married for 28 years.  Maybe tomorrow I'll do a little more research and report what happens IF I get past the welcome screen.

THOSE Parents!

I've moved into into the "Parent of Older Children" status now that both of my boys have hit double digit status with one an actual TEENAGER!  I can sit and chuckle as I watch THOSE parents with the small children, remembering what they were going through.

The Organic Momma - "Oh we only do Organic Rainforest Chocolate.  I am sure those little eggs are delicious, but what does it do to the environment?"

The Helpful Neighbor - "We went ahead and walked your dog for you.  She looked like she needed to go out.  Here is her bag of poo, where would you like us to put it?"

The Stressed Mum - "Stephen is such a picky eater, we brought our own Easter Eggs for him.  George go hide the eggs while I cover his eyes.  I am sure the other children will not like the Gluten Free, Dye Free, Sugar Free Chocolate."

The Hoarder - "Looks like you have a few extra goodie bags left, I'll take a few for Carla's brother and 3 sisters, is that OK?"


The Hipster Mom, "Is that two bees doing it?  Do bees actually do it?"

Then there are the code words:

"Oh, I'm not sure those bolts will hold you."  Translation - You are either too old or too heavy to play on my swings.

"How fast does that motorbike go?" Translation - "Is that the liquor cycle I've heard about, the mopeds that go to the people who've lost their licenses?"

"She's a picky eater."  Translation - "Please don't offer her that extra large slice of Chocolate Heavenly Cake."

"Shhh, the baby's sleeping"  Translation - Time for everyone to go home.

"Why?"  from a child.  Translation - "But I want to do it anyway."

"Are you sure you want to do that?"  Translation - Trampolines for women over 40?  Not a good idea.

Funny, but I used to be every single one of these parents.  Thinking I knew it all about parenting and finding out quickly how little I do know.  Now, I just pray that something is sticking and the kids will turn out normal.

Seriously, how do you define normal?

WTF - Kids Names

Seriously people, why would you name your kid that?

Airwrecka - or Erica, why do some people have to so butcher the spelling of their name to make them different.  I think I will change my kids names, how about:

Maxhimauh

and

Waulfgaung

Then you have the ones that are named after things a parent can't afford:

Chanel
Armani
Health Insurance
Mercedes
Pearl
Car Payment

Parents like to use symbols in the name:

Kei$ha - does that mean she needs money?
$hannon - does she have a silver spoon in her mouth.
I could outdo all of them with $hithead!  Perfect!

Then the fluffy names:
Buffy
Candy
Fluffy
Precious (how about Pre$ious)
Honey

Some think it is a good idea giving them a sports name, hoping that they excel in sports:

Darryl Homerun Walker
Stephanie 10Love Smith

and again, my favorite-

Darius Touchdown Carson.

I have a friend who named her daughter nevaeh - many were not sure how to even pronounce it, but she explained "It is heaven spelled backwards."  The first thought that went through my mind was Heaven Backwards is well, I'm not going to say it.

Finally, what really offends me:

When I introduce myself and they say, "I used to have a dog with that name."

Boys and Airplanes

There is nothing funnier than traveling with kids on an airplane, especially when you have a seasoned traveler like my husband who lies calm, even trips.

We start the morning with 12 bags - 4 ski bags (about the size of body bags and just as heavy) 3 suitcase and 5 backpacks.  Hubby starts with a lecture that "it is everyone's job to take care of all this stuff," as I am hauling the body bags up 8 steps and out to the car.  Once they are up there, the kids do par core all over the bags while I crawl on my hands and knees in the condo checking under beds, couches, chairs - finding 2 mis matched socks, one T-shirt and my own business card.

During the drive to airport, we get a little turned around.  Usually when you are lost, children will immediately start asking stupid questions as you are trying to figure out the GPS, listen to Rolf of Google Maps tell you that you are lost and arguing with your seat mate about which direction to take.

Didn't the kids in the back notice that you turned Michael Buble all the way down - BECAUSE you don't have time to listen to "I wanna go home," when you are LOST!

It starts with them asking if we are lost, then bugging each other until one of them yells, "STOP!"  At which time both parents turn and explain in what they think is the most menacing voice about being lost, needing quiet to think!  Does that stop them?  What do you think?

Once at the airport, everyone jumps out of the car looking at us.  I have to politely explain that I got the body bags up to the car, it is now their job to haul them from the car into the ticket counter.  Each takes their own bag, leaving me with 4 communal bags - including my own body bag.  Sigh.

At the counter, hubby is trying to check us in, the kids are jumping the suitcases.  My oldest decides that he wants to "help" Daddy and check us in for the flight.  There are wrong buttons pressed, arguments on how many bags, arguments on who is sitting where.  Meanwhile I am getting evil looks by the TSA agents waiting for our bags, because a. they are heavy as shit, and b. there are a lot of them and c. someone is going to have to security search them which includes hauling the body bags through X-ray.

The kids push each other through security screening, not to mention the TSA guy pulling a smashed clementine out of my husband's briefcase with my child saying, "Hey, I was saving that for later!"  They push each other down the jetway, push each other as they walk to their seats on the plane.

Once on the flight, the kids are excited and cannot sit still, they are moving the seats up and down, which means Jeff and I have no leg room because for some reason the kids got the choice seats and we got the ones that come with a can opener when you try to get out.  One child is pressing all the buttons on the other child's TV screen because this is the first plane that has personal TVs and how cool is that in a child's world.  Rather how cool is that, in anyone's world, I'm pretty enthralled too, not noticing what the kids are doing until someone presses the flight attendant button above my husband's head.  He is reaching between the seats trying to grab someone while the flight attendant asks him what he wants. I thought he was going to say, "Please move me away from these obnoxious kids, who's kids are they anyway?"  But he smiles and apologizes, reaching between the seat for anyone once she walks away.

Needless to say when traveling with children, the annoyance of everything they do is increased with the stress of trying to get from point A to Point B.  So if you travel with your children, here's a few pointers:

Travel light - in our case we couldn't due to snow sports, the less you have to haul around the better your back will feel.
Don't give them any of your electronics - because sitting on the airplane is not the time to find out they changed your ringtone on your phone to "I'm Sexy and I Know It."  (Picture my sweet hubby's face on that one)
And try to set your seats at least 3 rows behind them, that way you are not hit in the knees when they "test" how far the seat goes back and you can look at others on the plane and say, "For Pete's Sake, who's kids are those?"

Remember, traveling with children is like childbirth.  You'll forget all about it once your finally make it back home again, planning that next trip until your phone starts to sing, "I Like Big Butts And I Cannot Lie" on your next call.

Not your Normal Kind of Vacation

Our last day begins with a purpose to totally fry what you have left because -

this is it.

Snow season is done.

Go big or go home.

Not to mention Joss Christensen and Sage Kotsenburg both Olympic Gold Medalists from Socchi were signing autographs.  Nothing like meeting them making you want to take it to the next level.

Enter our expert ski instructor - Annebritt Birkeland.

She's been my Internet friend for quite some time now, a kindred spirit who enjoys telling the same raunchy jokes I like to tell, along with the few "Be who you are" type posts.  We planned on meeting face to face, and I was hoping for a little "ski talk" from her too.

I was talking about taking one of the kids up to Jupiter Bowl, and part of our day included an incredible fresh powder run along the bowl, giving up a look at what they were thinking about getting themselves into.  Yes, looking straight up at the cliffs, and all the trees, I was very glad that all three kids lost interest early this morning when they hit the park,  just looking up at the pitch made my sphincter dilate and I wasn't even skiing it.

The children sensing that it was the last day, circled both of us like indians on the wagon train.  Before we knew it, each had a T-shirt, one  had a hoodie, and we even purchased a new set of bindings.  Sure it helped that everything was 40-70% off, making the hubby a little less irritated.  It did now help when the one child said, "I could get new bindings if you and Mommy didn't have to buy all that beer."

I learned that I leaned too far back when I ski, and was working some serious moguls by the end of the day, my legs giving up finally at 4pm and waving the white flag.  Not to let the fun end, we invited Anna over to High West Distillery for our last night out.  Of course, the kids were free to heat up chicken fried rice in the condo.

We tasted great food, even better whiskey and got to chat rather than on Facebook messenger.  I always pride myself in surrounding myself with friends that are wide open and leaving North Carolina for the Winter to season to live in a one bedroom Yurt and teach skiing not only makes me jealous (while the kids are fighting right now) but gives me aspirations of taking what you want and going for it.

So a 10 day trip to Utah ended with a surprise friendship that will travel back and forth over the years.

To sum it up, it was a week full of surprises - not just the incredible amount of snow, but Boxes, and Bowls, and Black Diamonds and finally two bottles of the Booyhan hidden in the suitcases for when we miss Utah.

See you next year -

POW POW BOXZILLA!

Last day at Canyons resort and it was a day that covered every part of the spectrum:

Started with sunny skies while riding the gondola.
All out Blizzard at the mountain top at 11am.
Wet snow that stuck to our goggles and skis on one run.
To fresh powder on the west side of the mountain to the resort.
Finishing up with bluebird skies, live music, a fire pit and smores!

Best part of my day was Boxzilla - a collection of 12 boxes in the terrain park and a free ride event to see who:

Could make all 12 boxes.
Could do it with a trick.
Could do it without breaking anything.

Guess who jumped in right away - both boys!  Luckily, we have good coaches at Beech Mountain Resort so they were ready.

Max was right up front, pushing the big guys out of the way and getting in the most number of runs for the event.  Wolf, of course, being the almost 13 year old was holding back, but did it with finesse that made us proud.

Best moment of the day?

The MC at the event, pulled Max aside after he completed all 12 boxes, yelling up to the crowd waiting at the top of Boxzilla,

"Hey, this is Max Melang and not only is he from North Carolina, but he's 10 years old and completed the box with a grab at the end.  Are you going to let this little kid SHOW YOU UP?"

Max went down as the start of several trains of 6 or 7 riders, Wolfgang even got some guys at the top yelling, "Do it kid!  He's going to make it to the end!"

Proud Momma?  Yes!  So just to make sure they are embarrassed, I was yelling into the crowd,

"Wolfgang!  Are you warm enough?"
"Max do you need your gloves?"
"Be careful boys, DON'T HURT YOURSELF!!!"

Dork Momma?  Yes I am, and PROUD OF IT.

So they all go out t in Park City for a little shopping, I stay behind and immediately fall asleep on the couch.  Of course, there's no way into the condo and they spend the next 30 minutes texting, Find my IPhoning, Facebooking, AND calling me, trying to wake me up to let them in the condo.  I have achieved total dork mom status in locking my family out of the condo!!

Great day on the snow, one day left and everyone is already saying they are going to miss it!

Blue Skies, Black Diamonds and Son of a Boooyah

Happy birthday to my youngest son, Max.  Interesting that he was born on 04-04-04 and today with his tenth birthday marks 04-04-14.  Maybe there is some luck in there somewhere.

We are back at Canyons, my head full of getting the most out of our day.  I take my sweet husband down the black diamonds, through the moguls, with a few steep groomed trails to boot.

Max and the boys are gone to the terrain parks and other areas.  How can you explain to a 10 year that, "No, you cannot go into the 'You can Die' places by yourself, someone has to ride with you, and newsflash - it is not your mother."

Jeff and I take all the different lifts with a little hint of Son of a Boohrye - a High West Distillery Whiskey sitting in a flash.

False courage?

Yes.

Bad idea?

Double Yes?

How easy do the Double Blacks look after a shot of the Booyrah?

Shit, we can do that, it looks like a run on Beech Mountain Resort.

There is one thing to dreaming of going down a double black, then there is doing it.

You start at the top thinking, "This looks like nothing from the lift.  What a piece of cake."

10 minutes later you're thinking, "What the hell was I thinking?"

After two falls later, you're thinking, "Oh shit, how much further do I have to go?"

Another 10 minutes later, "I've got to take a break.  Shit, is that a little kid shooting by me?"

Another 10 minutes, "If I  make it to the bottom, that's it for me today."

Five more minutes later, "Scotty, she can't take much more.  My quads are screaming."

Hitting the bottom, "Well shit, that wasn't so bad.  That ain't no black diamond."

So the next time you take a shot of whiskey and take the lift to the top, remember, everything's easier with a little whiskey in the system, until you are hot on the trail.

Oh, and the birthday boy?  He didn't have ANY whiskey and hit the biggest jump in the park only to land it in an epic wipeout.

Glad I bought him the new helmet for his birthday.

Glad I'm not taking a trip to the ER.

Glad he still is talking about it as the highlight of his day, because I'm still not recovered from the double black diamond.

Booyrah!

WTF - Get Real!

What the Friday wonders why products can't be honest with us:

Why didn't the sanitary napkin say, "Sticky side down?"  I mean, really, BE SPECIFIC!!

Why can't my treadmill count in glasses of wine, what I can fill up with the night after my workout.
"6 glasses of wine" or 900 calories - which one makes more sense.

Rather than the calorie count on the Krispy Kreme doughnut box, it should show number of doughnuts based on shrinkage of pant size.  6 doughnuts = sausage casings.

100 Calorie packs - they should just say, "Why did you even buy us?"  when you eat the entire box, one 100 calorie pack at a time.

Alcohol Warning - sure it says "could cause dizziness, loss of memory, hot flashes," why did it not say, "Could cause possible pregnancy."  Had I known.

Why wasn't there a warning on Facebook, "Could become addictive, causing you to stalk your ex lovers, fight with political opponents, and realize you are not the perfect Mom."

And on the marriage certificate - "May cause memory lapses, mood swings, periods of confusion and pregnancy."


Skiing down a ski slope, there's a very large pine tree in the middle, with a CAUTION sign attached to it.  Really?  I guess some poor dude thought he could ski through a tree!

Real warning on Spandex pants - "Will not make your but look small, but can possibly smooth out the cottage cheese."

On the bra - "Do not use as a sling shot after a long day."

And finally on Children:

"Could cause periods of hallucinations, repressed anger, hot flashes, AND memory loss."

But who heeds warnings anyway?

Kids and Listening - WHAT?

Today we switched things up with a trip to Canyons Mountain Resort - 10 minutes away but a totally different experience.  One that included gondolas (you should have seen their faces), Orange Bubbles, and Half Pipes.

Do your children have the selective hearing disease?  The one where I tell them,

"Dad and I are skiing over off of Dreamcatcher Lift, meet us there in one hour for lunch."

1 hour later, someone is texting me, "Where are you?"

Dreamcatcher Lift.

why

Because we wanted to ski those blacks.

But what about lunch.

(heavy sigh) Come over to Dreamcatcher and we'll stop for lunch.

Sometimes it is nice to not really exist - to just relax while the rest of the family dukes it out for who was right, which way to go, why didn't we do that.  Other times it would be nice for someone to listen to me.

"We need to take Sidewinder Trail down to the Short Cut Lift to get down to the base."

They are busy arguing about Dreamcater, and Cloud 99 and every way but the one I suggested.  Of course, I was the only one to study the map realizing that there is no way over the valley except for the Short Cut lift.  I say, "Well we have to get to the Short Cut Lift to get down to the base."

They are moving into hiking to the top of another peak to pickup a run to make it to base when my youngest, maybe his brain is not so fermented on sugar as the other says, "Wait a minute, we can't get back down unless we take the Short Cut Lift here."

My jaw drops as they all say, "Wow, you're right Max.  Good job, we should take Sidewinder over to the Short Cut Lift to make it to the base of the mountain."

"Let it go, " I tell myself

It is even evident in Apres Ski, it seems that most men just don't really hear what women are saying at times, and if they did, they would thank us for it.

I watch the bartender put a cup on a base and it fills from the bottom with beer, not from a tap at the top.

"Wow, that's cool, how does it work?"

She smiled, "It has a hole in the bottom, the beer comes through there, then there is a magnet that covers it.  Controls the pour for us, we recycle the cups AND the magnets."

I look at the bottom of the cup and my finger travels to the bottom, where the magnet it, she says, "I wouldn't push that unless you want to wear your beer."

My hubby comes in and looks at his beer, "That's wierd what's this on the bottom."

Me, "It's a magnet because they fill the beer from the bottom up, don't push on it."

Does he listen to me.  As I turn, he's holding the cup up above his head, looking closely at the magnet.  I watch his finger travel slowly to the magnet at the bottom, I try to say something, but I've lost my voice (I cannot tell you why)

I watch my husband do it and douse himself with beer.  I watch other people come in and the girls were smart enough to not push on the magnet, but everyone that wore beer surprisingly was male??

Funny, that we keep trying to tell them what is smart for them, thinking that maybe one day - they will actually listen.

Nah, who's got time for that anyway.

Avalanche Charges, Bowls and Beer - Oh My!

Everyone finally woke up this morning with smiles.  I checked each child's underwear as they came out , scratching their butts for breakfast.  All smiles, and no sharting in the house.  Perhaps this will not be such a shitty day?

That is was snowing as soon as we got there - a very good sign.  You could hear the avalanche controls in the back country as we rode the lift to the top.  Today, I decided I was going to take it easy, considering the two days before were spent in some really shitty jobs.  I would be careful and not over tax what I was doing.

Hello black diamond.

So much for taking it easy, with fresh powder on the ground, I went with the rest of humanity to the hard stuff at the summit.  The boys were with me, arguing about who would get down the hill first, who would get off the list first, who would get back on the lift first.

How do I spend a day skiing by myself?

My rule of thumb is that all skiing happens from 9am until 12-1230pm.  I hit it hard from 9am until 1230p when we get our first break.  For them it is lunch, for me it is a beer.

We finish lunch then ski again until 2pm before we take our second break, for them a snack, for me it is a beer.

This time I went down McConskey bowl about 130P which changed my schedule.

After crawling out of the bottom, I realized that I was bypassing the rest of the ski schedule and going directly to the bar, and since I was alone, no one else would know the difference.  I went down to the resort and put my feet up outside, drinking a beer.


The kids, coming down after their time on the slopes were like sharks smelling blood in the water.  Mom's had a beer and that means she's a little more open to SHOPPING!

They hit the stores in the lodge as I finished my beer, coming back and pulling me into 3 different directions for "A great helmet," "An awesome hoodie," and "Some liners."  Kids have that innate sense , knowing exactly when their parents are primed enough to open the wallet.

When it goes from, "Honey, you really do not need another sweatshirt."  To...
"Wow, it's moisture wicking, and fits you perfectly and look at that sad face you are giving me," to...

SOLD!

So one helmet, one T-shirt and one hoodie later we head back to the condo, talking about charges, not just avalanche control but of the credit card ones as well.  The biggest part of our discussion was figuring out how to present the new purchases to DADDY!!

Perhaps I will live to see another day.

Another Shitty Day in Paradise

I will not get on my soap box about sickness.  If you are sick, and you know what you have is contagious - why the hell, would you go out and be around the human population?  For God's sake, stay home until you are well and people will not HATE you!


That being said, we have had a few shitty days in paradise.

Out first day on the snow was blizzard type conditions, snow sideways, and many lifts closed due to wind.  So what do we do - dress up in as many layers as possible and GO OUT anyway!

We make it until about 3pm when one of the kids looks at me and says (very seriously) "I must get to a lodge immediately."

Well, what the hell does that mean?  My mother's intuition says, "He means it, get him there immediately."

We take the lift up and made our way to the lodge, I'm thinking, "It can't be that bad."

Well, I was wrong.

My poor child, racing for the bathroom runs in, past this poor dude, holding the mop, obviously cleaning up after someone else, and proceeds to empty everything in his stomach all over the bathroom.  A trail of green colored vomit that runs across both sinks, along the floor, and all over the toilet he finally made it to.

I look at the poor kid with a mop.

His face is white.  It looks like, "what the hell, you gotta be shitting me?"  I almost say, "oh the shit is ready to hit now."

The poor child, moves from covering the sinks to covering the toilets.  As I wonder how could something affect so much so quickly?  Feeling bad, I tip the white faced guy holding a mop 20 bucks, the poor guy deserves it for having to do such a shitty job!

What do we do?  He's sitting at the Summit of the mountain hugging a trash can.

The poor child ends up in the toboggan behind ski patrol snowmobile as his only way off the mountain.

Me?  I ski down grab the car and run over to pick him up.  Side note:  Guy who comes up and says to me, "Obviously you didn't read the sigh, get you car out of this area."

Of course, full Mom kicks in.  I turn to him,  "Listen, had you stopped and asked me the situation, I could have said it was an emergency and I was waiting for kid off the snowmobile.  But no, you assumed I was here for no reason and look like the asshole you are for saying that too me.  Oh, and since I am with my vehicle, had an emergency vehicle come up to pick my nephew up, well, I could have gotten out of the way."

Lesson learned - Don't mess with a Mom, especially when she knows she's got a shitty job ahead of her.

Of course I look it up - symptoms:  extreme vomiting, fever, extreme flatulence - wait a minute, that's why there was that nasty smell in the car on the trip?

The poor child spends the night sitting on the toilet while hugging a trash can.

Next day - another one wakes up with a "Mom, I think I just sharted my pants...."

A.  How does he know the word Sharted?
B.  Why do I have a stomach ache?
C.  Oh shit, how could a child project vomit that far?

Sometimes being a Mom can be a really shitty job......