Mothers' Day recap

My second Mothers' Day (I was pregnant with Sammy on my first, technically!) was AWESOME. Awesome awesome AWESOME. I got to take a shower, SHAVE MY LEGS, go to church, receive a rose and a special blessing for mothers, expose myself at church again, pick out a new phone, my husband made dinner, and Sammy was extra-cute. I even got a card from the dogs!

Yes, I guess I can't slip anything by you, Internet. I had yet ANOTHER wardrobe malfunction at church. I'm not sure what sort of a sign that is. Why does God want me to expose myself (my CHUBBY, WHITE self) to lots of innocent people? Maybe they aren't so innocent and God wants to punish them by making them look at me, exposed? I can't get inside the Big Man's head, but it happened again.. At least it didn't happen IN church this time. I was walking to the car (go figure, we got a REALLY good, close parking spot Sunday) and I was wearing this cute white dress that I wore way back in the day (like, possibly high school) and Steve had to get on his knees and wrestle with the zipper just to get the stupid thing on me, but it finally zipped. So I'm wearing my cute heels and I'm feeling good, just got out of church, fixin' to head to the store to get my new phone and then, dun dun DUN... My heel gets caught in a little crack in the sidewalk and I ALMOST face-plant (which probably would have been more embarrassing), but I do that whole crazy-waving-arms thing to steady myself and then comment on how graceful I am. Only then do I feel a light breeze through my dress and realize that when I was wobbling around on the sidewalk, I must have inhaled deeply (like I normally do when I get nervous about eating concrete) and POPPED THE ZIPPER. I thought I just popped the top snap thing off, but upon closer inspection (inside the car) Steve pointed out that, no, the actual zipper was still at the top where it was painstakingly wrestled a few hours before. The actual zipper was busted, and steadily creeping down, further and further to reveal..... my panties (You: Oh no not again, please tell me you weren't wearing the same ones as last time.). Rest assured Internet, between flashing the church at Easter and now, I have re-stocked my underwear drawer with good quality Target panties. We can all breathe a big sigh of relief. And after seeing pictures of myself in the dress I decided that I didn't care for that dress much anyways. Makes me look sort of.... pregnant? Not exactly the look I'm going for these days...

We can all agree that for whatever reason God made that zipper pop, it was probably for the best. Amen.

So the second most interesting thing in this post would be... the new phone! As Steve so bluntly put it, "Twelve-year-olds have cooler phones than we do," and it was time to do something about that. My phone was on its way to a slow, lingering, painful death, so we pulled the plug on it early and I got an iPhone! Now I am so "with it." Well, until you ask me to do something on it. Then I turn into some (VERY UNCOOL) 70-year-old who is sort of squinting and poking at it with one finger and saying, "How do you make a call on this dagblasted thing?" But I am slowly figuring it out. (S-L-O-W-L-Y being the operative word.)

I also gotta thank y'all for your suggestions about what to do with all of the Rapidly Reproducing Strawberries. I've made smoothies, put them atop yogurt, fed them to Sammy (although he was not a huge fan), and made that strawberry pie- which completely DISAPPEARED in two days flat. I would love to say, "Oh that Steve! Such an appetite!" But I would be LYING. I was a true partner in crime, doing my fair share of the pie-eating. So maybe desserts would be something I'd consider making more of since we eat them faster than green grass goes through a goose.

Just look at those sweet rolls!!

Or maybe not since I am still staring at my broken-down-zipper-dress that popped open on its own free will (probably due to the PIE).

Half the church saw my undies

I will deem Easter a success this year, despite the Panty Flashing Incident of 2011, in which my dress got hung up on the seat of my chair in church when I knelt down, exposing my old, white GRANNY-PANTIES that are so heinous that I previously vowed never to wear them out of the house ever again, but wore them anyway because I didn't want people seeing my blue flower-patterned granny panties through my dress, but at least then they would have thought that I had some sort of personality if they'd seen those over the OLD, UGLY WHITE ONES. As soon as I realized what was going on, I punched Steve in the arm for not noticing the state of my drawers and their overexposure, to which he replied, "I'm not ALWAYS staring at your butt!" GAH. He reassured me by telling me that there were only women sitting behind us. Really? ONLY women? I find that a little hard to believe. But I truly have next to no shame anymore (thanks Childbirth!), so as soon as I got home and remembered about the Reeses eggs, I got over it pretty quickly.

Speaking of the Reeses eggs... They were GOOD.

Look at the size of that belly! Sweet potatoes and carrots are doin' that body GOOD!

Sammy did not fit into his appropriate Easter outfit, shown above, (but it was also put on BACKWARDS (I'm lookin' at you, Steve)) so he went classy and casual to mass with a different bunny outfit. For someone who sleeps, burps, and eats throughout the entire service, I don't think attire is all that important.

 

We've got a little ham on our hands...

That's better. But speaking of ham, Easter dinner went off without a hitch! Everything appeared to be edible, but I didn't remember to take pictures of the food due to a Severe Bowel Emergency (Sam's, not mine) at the start of dinner. You will have to take my word for it that it looked like something Martha Stewart and Paula Deen might have dreamed up together, served in gorgeous Polish pottery, while we were all wearing our Sunday best, not our sweatpants.

Also in attendance for the amazing Easter dinner were my in-laws, also known as The Best Dog Sitters On The Face Of The Earth. In order to go out with a bang, they drove something like FOURTEEN HOURS in the car! with two dogs! one who has butt-juice issues! another who is scared of riding in the car! just to return them to us! I think there is some sort of heroic medal that needs to be awarded to them both immediately. We could have never had Marci (beagle) with us while we lived in our apartment in Virginia, and after having Sammy, even Odie (pug) got shipped up to Pennsylvania for an extended staycation at the Resort a la Dignazio. They received quality attention and care and more walks and bananas than they ever dreamed possible. And my in-laws saved us something like, a bajillion dollars in boarding fees. So a huge shout-out to my in-laws! Y'all rock! Oh, and both dogs have sunk into a deep, dark depression since they realized that their vacation is over and the attention has shifted DRASTICALLY to the tiny person.

The depression is masked a lot by excessive sleep. It looks something like this.

To be clear, Steve is not depressed. He just enjoys sleeping.

These two are the depressed parties.

Here they are in action. Steve was taunting them with the hambone.

Giving them a nibble.

And an accurate pictorial summary of Easter at the Dignazio house.