HBD NBD

So, I'm looking into getting a tutor.  Obviously not for anything truly academic, since I try very hard to not really think anymore.  Well, at least this week, as all of my old co-workers (suckers) head back to school using all of their "thinking" power to make bulletin boards, design hall passes, and work on classroom speeches that will both scare children/teenagers and make them love you all at the same time (tough stuff).  In fact, this is my first time since age five that I haven't had a first day of school.  No one took a picture of me this morning, weird.  Anyway, I digress, I really need a tutor.  Why?  So, I can understand what most people post on facebook without using a dictionary. . . no, let's get real, google (Urban Dictionary).  It's like pager code all over again (143).

Yeah, the truth of the matter is that a couple years ago, someone posted what is the title to this post (HBD NBD, in case you don't want to move your eyes) to my facebook on my birthday.  After a couple hours of moderate thinking (I do have a life) and some contextual clues (it was my birthday afterall) I realized that this "friend" had written, "Happy birthday, no big deal."  I really think that if they had written out that entire sentence, they would have hit the Delete button a la Tom Hanks in "You've Got Mail."  But, I guess the cuteness of rhyming? made them use poor judgement.

I'm woman enough to also admit that a few months ago, I googled "YOLO."  In complete honesty, I really thought that most people who wrote that were big fans of Yolo County, California, not far from where I grew up.  I thought about hash tagging "Solano," the name of my home county.   I also thought this was a funny acronym since I'm pretty sure it gives most teens and overgrown teens an excuse to do something dangerous or stupid, do they really need a catch-phrase?  Frankly, for the past ten years my motto has been YODO (You Only Die Once).  This has kept me from doing all kinds of "fun" things, like sky diving, eating food that was poorly prepared, driving fast, taking unflattering pictures, you get the point.  However, I was more than amused last week when I saw a T-shirt in Yellowstone that said, "YOLOstone."  I can't help but be a sucker for word play.

So, I want you to be honest, and tell me if there's ever been a phrase that you didn't understand right away that made you feel old.  Speaking of old, I turned twenty-nine on Saturday. HBD NBD.  

Summer's pretty hip/thug, maybe she can be my tutor.

The babe

Back by popular non-demand!  During my brief year-and-a-half hiatus from the blogosphere (hate that term, too futuristic), all total, about three people asked me about my blog.  Turns out, it only takes three requests and I am humbled by the praise, here I am at your service.  Ta dah!

Recap
Since you last heard from me, I have done the following things:
Got married, what what
Taught school
Got pregnant (consequently thought I contracted the West Nile Virus, turns out I am not one of those girls who feels healthier and prettier when pregnant)
Put on a few sexy pounds (I can remember every shake, so it was worth it)
Had baby (cut out of me)
Went back to work
Stopped working and tried to feel emotional about ending my 8-year teaching career.  Didn't.
Enjoyed my summer with Summer (and Dale)

The Babe
This is not where I am going to share with you my birthing story or birthing plan, for that matter.  Truthfully, I only recently learned what either of those were, along with what a "Push Present" is and I find it all beyond my capabilities.  The reality is that I had nine months to prepare for a baby, and I did nuthin'.  With the help of the internet's creativity, I decorated a nursery, other than that nuthin'.  I can barely call myself a mother.

But, I can call myself a mother because I just happened to have given birth to one of the cutest babies to ever debut on planet Earth (please don't take offense, I'm sure your baby is cute too).  Meet Summer.  She's totally my style.  She rarely cries, she laughs and smiles at anything, I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm funny, and she doesn't mind if I forget to bathe her four days in a row.  She's my pal.  But, before she was born, I woke up in cold sweats (mostly due to pregnancy) with the fear that I had this person growing inside of me who would always want to be with me.  A baby Klingon.  This didn't bother Dale so much, since he already had someone in his life just like that...ME.  However, I am happy to report that I really like having this person with me all the time.

So, she looks like Dale.  I love this about her.  I've been told by a few people (not actual sources) that babies come out looking like their daddies, so he will instinctually want to take care of them.  I find it weird that men would only want to take care of someone who looked like them, but whatever.  This does, however, support my argument that you should never marry old, ugly billionaires because your children will inevitably look like road maps.  Since Dale was a cute little boy, I am flattered when people say she doesn't look anything like me.  I try not to take offense at the fact that Dale can grow a beard in the time it takes him to brush his teeth and that someone might be insinuating that she has a hint of masculinity about her cuteness.

Well, I don't have any clever endings to this meandering update post, but I'm happy to say to the internet, I'm baaaaack!

Honeymooners (morning sickness is only 4 short months away)

Danny DeVito and Arnold Schwartznegger

Being cute

Being funny

Being the life of the party

If you've made it this far, you had better comment.