No, Doctor. I FEEL FANTASTIC!

Well, I am a crappy blogger. It's been over a month since my last post...but sometimes life just happens. Life being moments where you have something really funny to write about, but instead you watch reruns of "The Nanny" and eat a whole tube of Girl Scout cookies and feel totally awesome about yourself...

I'm REALLY busy, okay?

Anyway, now that I got that self deprecating statement out of the way we can move on.

Here's the deal. I never understood when I had kids that I would joining the club of "ENDLESS EMBARRASSMENT."

Let me explain.

When I was younger, my mom would tell stories of all the horribly embarrassing things I would do to her. One that sticks out in my head was the story of my mom and I grocery shopping in the cereal aisle. When she put the Wheaties in the cart, I loudly exclaimed, "You need those so you can poop, right?"

Of course I always thought she was exaggerating her stories.

Like when we would go to the doctor's office after I had convinced her I was on my death bed. Only for her to explain my symptoms in a worried tone to the doctor, and me to respond by bouncing off the walls telling the doctor I feel "GREAT!"

No. Before I had kids...honestly I thought she was the master of embellishing stories.

Then...I became a member of the club.

From the moment those darlings are born, we as parents are destined to be embarrassed.

Starting with leaky breasts, stinky diapers in awkward locations, and your baby spitting up on someone dressed in a suit more expensive than your whole wardrobe. All of sudden...this shit gets real. No longer able to be a wallflower when you have an adorable, screaming, stinky bundle of joy.

I think with Sassy Girl being almost 8 and Little Dude being 5 years of age that I am at the early middle point of the embarrassment timeline.

A current log of recent moments I have been embarrassed by my little darlings:

Doctor/child thing I mentioned earlier? Oh yeah. Been there.
I swear she just had a fever of 104! YES, I see her running through the waiting room giggling. NO, I DO NOT HAVE MUNCHHAUSEN SYNDROME!

I teach Little Dude's Sunday School class. I told the class about the bowling ball that fell on my foot earlier that week and broke my toe. (Yes. THAT happened.) The little bugger told everyone I cried like a baby. Which I absolutely did not...much.

Trying on clothes in a dressing room. Loud eight year old voice: "MOM!!! I can see your BUTT! Get dressed, that's gross!" Great. Thanks.

Taking work calls at home. Or any calls, really. WE WILL MAKE IT SOUND LIKE A MURDER IS HAPPENING RIGHT HERE RIGHT NOW!!!!

Talking to someone about an owie: "My daddy did it." What the little sweetie fails to mention, is that he went running like a bat outta hell towards his daddy who wasn't prepared to catch him, which resulted in a catastrophe. But...now we have a possible social services situation, I guess.

Oh. We think it's funny to ask the waitress to bring us BEER. What the waitress doesn't realize is they are asking for mother effing ROOT BEER. Don't judge me lady. I don't feed my kids Miller Light, okay?

Anyway, I could go on, but you get the point. Kids...are honest. They are honest and they don't mean to, but they embarrass the crap outta their parents.

I wouldn't trade it for anything.  Soon...I will be the one embarrassing THEM.