When I was pregnant with Lane, my husband was known to make "innocent" comments that just sounded WRONG. (Okay, you got me, he STILL does that.) Early on in the first trimester, Dustin (who was 19 at the time and still a long, lanky young man who actually had some pretty hot, defined muscles but had always wanted MORE muscles) said: "Hey, maybe if our baby is a boy he'll get my height and your thickness and be a linebacker." That's right. My thickness. I remembered this comment the other day when we were having trouble finding the boys new pants that fit. Lane didn't get that "thickness" and like his father before him, he swam in the 14 regulars he tried on and we were debating on whether mandatory belts or slim fit was the best course of action. Tatton and Russell on the other hand... Well, let's just say that they couldn't get their respective pants to button up. So, we ventured into the Husky section. Tatton has been sensitive in the whole body image department lately and I felt the need to give him a dressing room pep talk. I told him about how my brothers (all buff & stand out athletes, etc.) had to wear huskies. I remember them (right at Tatton's age) putting on a little pudge around the middle right before they hit puberty and got tall and muscly. That was when I had my "Oh..." moment and realized that my sons had indeed gotten my "thickness" that their father had requested. Word to the wise though Guys, even if made in the spirit of future football hopes, NEVER call your wife THICK, okay?
During that same pregnancy, Dustin also said, "Hey, our baby might be a white person like you, huh?" Um, excuse me? I mean, we're both white, so I don't really know what that even means... He clarified. "No, I mean REALLY white like you. I hope he's got my coloring." Oh, do you now? Well, I feel pretty, thanks. For those of you who don't know, Lane did indeed turn out to be a white person just like me. Lane and I both come in two color options: pasty white bordering on translucent and lobster red when exposed to the sun. In the skin department we seemed to split as a family 50/50. 3 of us are "white people" and the other 3 can stay in the sun for HOURS just getting bronzed and bronzer. Ultimately, I agree with Dustin now. I kind of wish that all of the kids had gotten his coloring. Worrying your child is going to get a blistering sunburn because they've been outside for 15 minutes and you forgot to put sunblock on them is not nearly as nice as having kids that never seem to burn whatsoever. I'm sure the two kids who got my skin tone would have preferred to have skipped having access to that part of my DNA. Poor Lane, between his OCD issues with worrying about being sick and his history of sunburns, he's been giving himself skin cancer checks since he was 6. "Uh, Mom- does this mole look like it's suspicious to you?!" is something I hear a lot.
Well, I guess I'd better go clean some more. :-( I hear I'm having a Super Bowl party at my house tomorrow. Don't get me wrong. I like watching the Super Bowl too. (Okay, okay, I don't LOVE football, but I like the food and commercials.) I just have no idea how I had absolutely nothing to do with the planning of this little shindig and yet I'm doing the cooking & cleaning for it... ??? It snuck up on me and morphed into something WAY bigger than I expected. It started off a few days ago when Dustin said, "Oh, I was planning on having a couple guys over to watch the game." I said, "Okay, cool." Next thing I knew, our guest list had multiplied faster than rabbits. Everybody is bringing friends and their friends are apparently bringing friends... I don't even KNOW most of these people. When I made a begrudging comment about it to Mr. Wonderful he said I was being anti-social and snobby. I'd like to make a statement: The correct term is LAZY. I just don't like having to do extra cooking and cleaning, thank you. It takes energy to entertain and make conversation with people you barely know.
I've decided that my 30th Birthday present to myself is going to be learning how to be assertive and speak my mind more often. We've already established that I'm thick, pale white, and snobby. I don't see how throwing bossy into the mix could really hurt anything.