This morning Nate was sitting on what is left of my lap and he got this look on his face.

He reached over, opened my fluffy bathrobe and pointed to my rather large, protruding belly.

“Mama. How do Baby Mea-son get out o’ dare?”

Derek: WHAT DID YOU TELL HIM??? HE JUST TURNED TWO!!!! I didn’t anticipate that question from HIM.
K: I yelled, “VAGINA!!” and ran into the other room.

At this rate, I’ll be explaining the hazards of TARP 1.0 and 2.0 and don’t get me started on the stimulus bill.

I blame this all on my husband’s genes. I still am not interested in how Baby Mason is getting out of my belly. A stork brings him, right?

Just a summation of the weekend:

(Mocking my post on bad birthday parenting) “You bought two birthday cakes for the boys? Well, I guess you are not that bad a mother then.”

(On the replacement of the radon fan) “You just need to get a cat. Radon sinks to the ground. As long as the cat is alive, you guys are good to go.”

(Asking if anyone cared if the sailors were okay) “When one submarine with one hundred nuclear warheads collides into another submarine with a hundred nuclear warheads, the condition of the sailors doesn’t necessarily make the top of the news.”

(On the news that he was officially 4 years old now) “So when will I be 5? I want to be 5 years old.”

D:  So what are we doing for the party tonight?

The phrase “Whaaa?” comes to mind.

OK, so here’s the deal.  I decided to throw a Virtual Mommy Needs a Cocktail Party tonight from 7-12 EST.  You know the usual Mommy Needs a Cocktail Parties, right?  You invite all your friends over.  You drink.  You eat.  You drink.  End of the night someone says, “Hey, what are those shirts over there on that table?” and then all your friends buy the latest and greatest in Mommy Needs a Cocktail wear with a huge discount from the regular prices online.

But a Virtual party and Friday, the 13th?  I’ll admit it.  It’s virtual because there are a whole world of people out there like me who don’t have the energy to throw a party but they want the discount on the clothes.  And because drinking alone is frowned upon.  So if you go to a virtual Mommy Needs a Cocktail Party, you aren’t drinking alone.  You are enjoying a lovely evening with all your internet friends.  And you are doing something fun with your Friday night that doesn’t involve sorting laundry or paying your babysitter a ridiculous amount of money to go out for dinner to only find out that the last of the tequila sirloin tips went to that jerk at the next table over who is having the audacity to pair his sirloin with a vintage Miller Light.

Friday, the 13th because if you have a good time tonight, you won’t be let down when you get your Valentine’s present tomorrow night which quite possibly could be a kiss and a box of Whitman’s chocolates and a sexual advance that involves a knock at the door while you are going to the bathroom or even better, an offer for a quickie while the kids are taking a bath.  Because nothing says “Hey, Baby, let’s do it” quite like the sound of water gushing over the side of the tub and onto that bathmat that never seems to dry out.  But back to my husband?  How cute is he?  All upset that we aren’t prepping properly for our party tonight.  I opened my husband’s eyes to a world of party going that involves a) never leaving your house, b) no cleaning and c) no unwanted conversation.  Sure he hasn’t figured out yet that part of MY Mommy Needs a Cocktail Party tonight involves watching all 6 hours of Pride and Prejudice, but we’ll just consider that his punishment for failing to bring the dirty clothes downstairs to the laundry room AGAIN.  He has no incentive because he has 45 pairs of clean underwear and socks upstairs.  I’m screwed for another month and a half.  And he doesn’t realize that the only reason he is invited to my party because he lives here.

I know.  Just shut up and tell us about the party.  Well, I posted it on Facebook and now 219 people are coming.  What people will do for a 30% off code for all your Baby Brewing purchases between 7:00 pm and midnight EST tonight (posted tonight at 7).  Can you imagine purchasing alcohol for 219 people?  This is sounding better and better.  We are going to have kickass prizes every single hour.  So rather than give them to people I don’t know, why don’t you go over to Facebook and join the party?  Pour yourself a nice cocktail (1 oz. Vodka, 2 oz. Pink Lemonade, 1 oz. Cranberry) or a nice Mocktail (sparkling Pink Lemonade, anyone?), invite your best neighbor/girlfriend over after the kids are in bed and pop in the cheesiest romantical movie you have in your cabinet.
Oh, and the giveaways.  Here’s the list of giveaways by the hour.  And because I’m nice, you can leave a comment here if you are smart enough to not be on Facebook.  A comment left between 7 and 8 EST will enter you into Giveaway #1, ect.

Giveaway#1:    7 pm to 8 pm EST
Martini Glass/Shaker gift basket

Giveaway #2:   8 to 9 pm EST
Mommy Needs Chocolate gift Basket with tee and 2.5 lbs of fabulous Belgian chocolate courtesy of wesellchocolate.com, courtesy of Chocolate Fountain Fairy Godmother

Giveaway #3:   9pm to 10 pm EST
Organic apron, bag and shaker basket

Giveaway #4:   10 pm to 11 pm EST
Martini Glass/Shaker gift basket

Giveaway #5:   11 pm to midnight EST
Still in the works, check back to see

And you can always follow the craziness on Twitter.  (use the hashtag #MNACParty09).  How the hell I am ever going to stay up until midnight is beyond me…

The Discount Code for everything at Baby Brewing tonight is cocktail30

When people found out that I was due with The Baby (aka #2, not to be confused with #3) on the exact same day as The Boy, I was berated.  Which is my personal favorite.  Like I really care what you think about my family planning (or unplanning).  But if it makes you feel better to tell me, I’m here to serve.  And listen.  As well as I listen to anyone, that is.  Which isn’t that well at all.  Ask my husband.  He’ll be happy to talk to someone who is actually listening to him.

“They’ll have to share their special day.”

“You’ll probably even make them share a cake.”

Hi, I’ll probably make them share a room, do the same sport in school so I’m not going to two different places, and make them share a car.  The only out they probably will have is college, but that is only because one of the children is showing a disturbing tendency to do WHATEVER THE HELL HE WANTS WHEN HE WANTS which will most likely not be conducive to going to a distinguished university.  But, hey.  I’m a product of community college and look how good I talk. And how fun I am.  Snotty education (you know of what I speak, Shane) is well-represented in this family and frankly, parties would be a little boring without me around here.

They are boys.  I know this because right now one is behind me, standing on the counter, pouring water from cup to cup to dirty cup on the counter and, evidenced by the splashing sound, his aim sucks.  I’m sure girls do these really messy things.  I just don’t remember doing them anywhere other than within the containment of a large bath tub as a child, where messes really should be contained.  But do they really care about having to share their birthday week?  I would have to think they were wussy if they did.

So now birthday week is upon us.  I know this because when I got home from the wine festival on Sunday, my children presented me with an ice cream cake.  “Happy Birthday, MOM!!!”

Hold your congratulations.  It wasn’t even remotely my birthday.  I looked at my husband and he just shrugged his shoulders.  See, we have started the birthday confusion here and now I am paying for having two children born 4 days apart. And I would like to thank my husband for feeding into the confusion.  He mentioned something about having more time on the weekends to celebrate.  Except I didn’t get home until 7, so I’m not sure that counts as more time.  Remember last year when I went to the Bizarre Bizarre and I came home at 9 to find my in-laws and my family had celebrated The Husband’s birthday without me?  Complete with streamers and cake.  I’m thinking they might just start celebrating all holidays on weekends when I am working.  But back to the birthday confusion.

You see, today is Nate’s School Cupcake Birthday.  Not to be confused with his REAL BIRTHDAY TOMORROW.  Then Thursday is The Boy’s School Cupcake Birthday.  Not to be confused with his REAL BIRTHDAY on Sunday and his REAL BIRTHDAY PARTY on Sunday which is also Nate’s REAL BIRTHDAY PARTY.

It only seems fair that we start the week out with an ice cream cake and end it 8 days later with TWO cakes made by the Cake Lady’s able little hands.

I have to go and frost the cupcakes.  And damn preschool for having 1 child beyond a box of cupcakes for two classes.  Seriously.  Wouldn’t it have been awesome if I had just had to make one batch?  Lazy, lazy mother.  Wait until #3 has to celebrate his birthday 1 month early with his brothers.  I just might do it…

Does anyone know what it means when you call your bank and they say you are $100 overdrawn but you have an available balance of $390?  I don’t know what that means.  I would have beeped through the menu to find out but anyone who has ever been in a car with a kid while using dialing menus knows that is the best way to end up being connected to the nice customer service guy named Aaron in India.

Does anyone know why they make “childproof” locks for closets and doors that only take about two seconds for your kids to figure out before they are mainlining Tums and bandaiding each other and making really awesome sculptures out of tampax?  All of which were on a shelf 6 feet high which means that someone had to use someone else as a ladder to overcome the first three feet?

Does anyone know why reasonably intelligent women like myself never get a clue and just teach the DAMN NEARLY 4 YEAR OLD TO EITHER COOK COMPLETE DINNERS OR DO THE LAUNDRY?  I should just send him back to Montessori.  He won’t be able to read until he is 8 but by golly, he’ll be able to cut a block of cheese for his friends and know the names of every tree in my backyard.  No, wait.  That was what he learned last year when he was 2 1/2.  Of course I would have to get him out of the bathroom closet.  See above.

Does anyone know how everyone manages to be bugged about the condition of the house yet people continue to climb over the Mt. Everest of laundry that was clearly just thrown over the banister because SOMEONE DIDN’T WANT TO GO INTO LABOR OVER YOUR NASTY SOCKS by carrying the laundry downstairs like a sherpa?  So she just threw it over the banister and now it’s in the hallway.  As in the front entryway of the house.  As in, let’s just shove these pajamas over to the left so we can actually open the front door.

Does anyone know exactly how much longer we will be tortured by Cabinet appointments?  I say we just give everyone a pass for everything less than 1st degree murder (unless it was justifiable homicide, of course) and put ourselves out of our misery.  I intend to use the “Turbo Tax Defense” myself this year, and I recommend everyone else do the same.

Come by Saturday or Sunday, February 7 or 8, or both, to the Virginia Wine Showcase and say “Yo, Beotch!!!”  If you want a discount coupon, check this out.  I have rock star placement because I threatened to have a baby during the festival so they put me by the front door.  Look for the “Mommy Needs a Glass of Wine” banner hanging high above the crowd (unless that available balance of $390 means I don’t have any money.  Then just look for the insanely pregnant woman selling wine tees).

****Kidding, Turbo Tax.  Just kidding.  Every year you prompt me to complete that form for SS and unemployment.  Seriously.  I don’t know what that guy was talking about…