What happens when I don't proofread?

THIS:

This post is brought to you by the makers of the Baby Bjorn - the patron saint of happy babies and productive mothers everywhere...........

So many things, so little time to write them all down before Chimp Boy discovers that I am doing something that doesn’t involve HIM and then it’s all “Wah! Wah! What about me?” He’s so YESTERDAY - doesn’t he get it??? So dramatic..........

Anyway, still loving motherhood, but DAMN - the double whammy of the holidays and having a newborn have totally and utterly KICKED MY LILY WHITE ASS*. Also, I insisted on hosting Christmas because I couldn’t bear the thought of my 83 year old Normal Olathe Grandma hobbling around her kitchen with my my Fat Ass Lazy Shopaholic Hoarding aunt ** watching her and not lifting a finger. I was glad to have everyone over and I know the relatives that came appreciated it, so it was worth it. To add to all the mayhem, my sister gave birth to Only Niece the week before Christmas, so things have just been super crazy. It was a scheduled C-section and everything went fine, but she can’t lift anything over like 10 ounces and her super mongo Hagrid Worthy offspring (aka Older Nephew and Younger Nephew, aged 4.5 and 2.5 respectively) weigh like 100 pounds*** a piece so we are all taking turns hanging out with her to help out until she can start lugging them around again. Speaking of mongo kids - I may be on the way to having one myself. Arun is barely 2.5 months and has already outgrown some outfits sized 3-6 months leaving me to say “WHAT THE FUCK?”****

Speaking of clothes, it was quite distressing that I have been schlepping around a kid that is better dressed than ME, so I decided that must fixed. I went clothes shopping today for REAL clothes for the first time in over a year and half. I nearly cried. I am back to square one with my fucking SHORT LEGS. For whatever reason, I had no issues finding maternity pants in my size and lengh - a first for me. However, Normal Clothes manufacturers assume that someone in my size is a gigantic Amazonian with thunder thighs to match. Its a good thing that I don’t have a job now, because I am going to be spending some serious time trolling the mall for pants that fit these legs. Since I am not going to an office anymore, I need decent casual clothes (when I was working, I cheated the system by wearing skirts). I hate the mall. I hate shopping. I hate being amongst all the fucking suburban housewives comparing strollers and scouting the clearance racks at Gymboree and Baby Gap because it is a stark reminder that I AM NOW ONE OF THEM.

Sob....

* No joke! It REALLY is lily white!
**No joke! It REALLY is fat!
***Okay , that actually WAS a joke.
**** Not in FRONT of the kid. Well, maybe sometimes, but he doesn’t understand - right?