Dear Mom,

It made me start hyperventilating and I almost swallowed my tongue was super awesome to get your friend request on Facebook today. My Facebook is pretty much open to bloggity people, family and friends so  I am pretty sure that I am going to accept you onto my ‘friends’ list. After all, carrying twin fetuses around for 9-months when you’re 37-years-old is no small task. So, I sort of owe it to you and dad for gettin’ it on and creating me n’ stuff.

(Although NOW I am totally thinking about you and dad getting it on.)

(Which is really, REALLY disturbing imagery.)

(And sort of makes me want to hurl and go AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! simultaneously.)

(Why don’t we just end here and get off of this topic before I curl in the fetal position and start babbling incoherently, m’kay?)

Where were we again?

Oh, yes.

You friended me on Facebook.

Here is the thing about that. Facebook is kinda “my space”. It’s kind of like my blog ala 2005…I sort of use it as a brain dump and it’s just a place where I can totally be ME.

Sooooo….I’m down with you being my friend but I have to warn you that while I post photos of the kids and funny updates and youtube videos and such, I ALSO post about sex, my boobs, getting Brazilian waxed (yes, I know that both you and Oprah think it’s “gross”) and I also curse, whine, moan and can be occasionally bitchtastic and often post about needing liquor.

So, if you are good with that?

We can be friends.

If not, you might want to just stick to reading my blog and talking to me on the phone, Ma.

Love,

Your favorite daughter.

P.S. I’m going to get scolded for this post, aren’t I, Ma?

P.P.S. And for I will TOTALLY tell everyone that you are not responsible for my heathen ways.

P.P.P.S. Everyone! My mom is totally not responsible for my heathen ways n’ stuff!!

P.P.P.P.S. In all seriousness, she is a good, upstanding LDS woman that did her best and somehow ended up with a heathen offspring despite all efforts to convince me that Jesus is my best friend.

P.P.P.P.P.S.  She also tried to teach me how to bottle fruit but that didn’t stick, either.

P.P.P.P.P.P.S.  Not that I have anything against bottled fruit, I don’t.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S.  In fact, bottled peaches and cherries are some of the best things on the planet and I am very fond of my memories of everyone helping out to make rows and rows of them to put in our fruit room when I was a kid.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. I also have fond memories of taking the canning lid rings and tying them together with yarn to make a bra.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Which was awesome.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Although, I am not sure that my mother felt the same way as I did about my metal canning bra of awesome.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. It probably had to do with the fact that I ran around up and down the neighborhood showing it off to the neighbors with no shirt on and wearing the “bridal veil” that I made by cutting down the brand new sheer bathroom curtains the day after she hung them up.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. She wasn’t too thrilled when I ran around the neighborhood flashing my “bikini”, either.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Which would be my Batgirl Underoos.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. AND THEY WERE AWESOME. SEE?

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. Now that I have given you enough disturbing/awesome imagery to last a lifetime I will let you go.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. I also have to go call my mom and offer to take her to lunch to make amends for this post.

P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.P.S. :)

“JAMES! I HAVE BEEN TELLING YOU FOR 2 HOURS TO GO TO BED AND YOU HAVEN’T SO I AM JUST LETTING YOU KNOW THAT I AM GOING TO START WALKING AROUND NAKED IN 10 MINUTES!!! IF YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE THAT I HIGHLY RECOMMEND GETTING. YOUR. HEINY. IN. BED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“ACK! EEEEEWWWWEEEEEE!!!!!! You wouldn’t really DO that would you?”

“JUST TRY ME.”

“Goodnight, Mom!”

“Good choice, son.”

BUTTERLUMP IS WALKING!

Finally!

In my haste and excitement at seeing my little one walking for the first time,  I grabbed the flip my friend Kim gave me (that I was utterly non-familiar with) (and HOW SWEET IS SHE to give me her extra camera because she knew I didn’t have one?) and just pressed record with no real concern over the fact that it was sideways, diagonal and all helter skelter.

I JUST WANTED TO LOOK AT MY BABY WALKING. (So, seriously…I know the video sucks but to me it is the most awesome thing in the world.)

Please squee right along with me because is he not AWESOME?!

I cannot believe my little pat of butter is walking already.

Cannot, cannot, cannot.

It’s gone by so fast. Too fast. I am just bewildered by how quickly this year has gone.

Pretty soon I will have him asking to bum $20 and I’ll be sternly telling him that if he knocks up a girl I will cut his thing off.

Let’s just tackle the toddling stage first, though….

Right?

P.S. I wouldn’t REALLY tell him that I would cut his thing off.

P.P.S. MUCH AS I WOULD WANT TO.

P.P.P.S. Hmmm….I think I’ should  save THAT sentiment for anyone who thinks I suck for taking such a poorly shot video of my baby’s first walking, no?

P.P.P.P.S.  Heh, heh, heh.

:)

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My last ‘Despicable Me’ post is up. “Interview with Julie Andrews and Steve Carell: The hills are alive with the sound of music! (That’s what she said).”