M is for Megaphone

I get it. We all get road rage.
But my favorite brother, Jake has recently come up with a solid plan to combat his rage.

Jake's Plan
  1. Buy Megaphone
  2. Keep Megaphone in car on passenger seat
  3. When you feel angry/rage-full/sad/offended/bored pick up Megaphone
  4. Roll down Window
  5. Use best announcer voice to cuss other driver out. 
I'm not kidding one bit.

His favorite insults include:
  • You Sir, are an A-hole! 
  • Eff you! Really, Eff you.  
  • Turning Left here is illegal Dumb-A!
  • Hey troll! There's no stop sign!

The more offensive the other driver has been is in direct correlation with the amount of F-words, A-words and B-words used.

I have witnessed Jake preforming this magical feat, and let me just say, it is probably one of the funniest things ever.
I need to get my own megaphone. amen.


Painting My Boobs

A couple weeks ago, I had the pleasure of entertaining a particularly "spirited" child at the Boys and Girls Club. She was acting a fool in her class and her punishment was to hang out with me for the day. 

Staff often threaten misbehaving kids with a trip to "Miss Emily". 

That's right. I make kids cry.

The prisoner was delivered to me. 
 It turned out the little girl was just feeling sick and missing her military dad who had been deployed. It was my duty as a patriotic American to distract the little girl.

I enlisted the minions to help me.

We have had these tiny wooden birdhouses in our office forever. We also have huge bottles of paint.

Needless to say, we painted the crap out of those birdhouses. 
When we were done we showed off our freshly painted trinkets to the rest of the kids and BGC staff. 

They really appreciated the beauty that emanates from a simple birdhouse that is too small to actually use.

 I was pumped. 

 Well, I WAS pumped until I got home and noticed that, at some point, I had dunked my nips in purple paint......... and NO ONE told me.

No wonder the moms were not especially nice to me when they signed their kids out......
And no wonder the fathers were. 

 I feel violated. amen.


Just Stay Little

My friend, who happens to be an amazing hair stylist, told me on Sunday that I needed to cut Pee-baby's hair. 


Maybe she was right. 

Sunday night, Jared took the buzzers to Cryin Ryan's albino afro. 
Nothing is freakier than seeing your baby look like a twelve year old boy.  

It doesn't help that Ryan's first tooth is now visible.

I hate that babies grow so fast. 
It's disturbing.

I bet he's going to start getting pubes next week. 
Is it too early for "the talk"?

I didn't think so.


Valentine's Card

 Last time I read the scriptures, I think I remember that there was this one part that said:

Once you are a mom, thou shalt make stupid homemade crafts.

I think I read it in either Genesis or Isaiah.
As a practicing Mormon Mom, I am required to make useless crap that looks cuter than a kitten in a boot. 

One time, I didn't make crafts for, like, a month.... and I didn't take Sacrament the whole time.

I dug into my copious craft supplies and pulled out what I would need. BTW, If a Mormon girl doesn't have at least $1000 worth of craft supplies, she isn't really Mormon.

I have a proven track record in card-making, so I busted this out for Jared:

Definitely cuter than a kitten in a boot. amen.


Pee-Baby = Dinosaur

Great. I was playing with Ryan yesterday when I had a realization.

My baby looks like the baby from the Dinosaurs sitcom. Awesome.

First he looks like a elf and now he looks like a pink reptile.

Sometimes Ryan gets eczema and his skin gets scaly.... just like baby Sinclair. Ugh.

At least Pee-baby has awesome hair and is better to cuddle with: