Why Condoms Remind Me of My Mother and How a Tampon Saved My Life

My mom didn't always understand me, but she always accepted me.  Thankfully we shared a healthy sense of humor.  If we hadn't she may have strangled me before I got to High School.

The five words I've heard most from her were "What is wrong with you!"  It was always a statement and not a questions, usually following me putting magnetic bullet holes all over her car, or throwing fake dog poop at her after convincing her it was from one of her dogs.

It's been 11 months since my mom died.  I've been thinking about her more often as the anniversary of her death approaches.  Today I was at Target for pens, though I ended up coming home with pens and these sexy footie PJs, which I know the Stud Muffin will just love.  They just scream "Take me now big boy!"

I was also in the pharmacy section looking for some acne wash for the teenage boy when I came upon the condom and lubrication area.

The condoms reminded me of my mom because I would often take her to Target and throw a bunch of multi colored condoms in her cart when she left it unattended.  She would only find them when checking out as she embarrassingly tried to explain to the cashier that they weren't hers.  I would be one lane over pretending not to know her and laughing my ass off as she yelled, "What's wrong with you!" across the aisle.

I was merely trying to show her that she needed to be more alert when shopping.  She had a bad habit of leaving her purse in her cart and walking off to look at something. So you see, my prank had a point.  In truth I was teaching her personal safety.  Maybe the next time she thought about walking off from her cart she would remember the condoms and not do so, thereby protecting herself from purse thieves and random people who might throw condoms in her cart.

After doing this to her on three different occasions, she stopped walking away from her purse in the cart.  The more I reflect on what it must have been like to have me for a daughter, the more I realize someone should have given her a medal.

The same goes for my significant other.  He rarely questions my behavior.  Once in awhile he comes across a mystery surrounding me that he just must get to the bottom of.  As was the case when he found this cup with a tampon and a piece of chewed gum in it, in my car.

Him: "I hate to ask, but why was there a tampon with blood on it, in a plastic up along with chewed gum in your car?"

Me: "That tampon saved my life the other day.  I was at the bus stop picking up the kid, when a wound on my arm started bleeding profusely!  I couldn't find a tissue to stop the massive hemorrhaging that was occurring, so I did what any fast thinking ER Doc would do.  I took a tampon out of my purse and used it to stop the bleeding.  I put it in the cup because it was the hygienic thing to do.  The gum was there because I was done chewing it and I don't throw things out of the car window because I'm civilized like that."

I didn't tell him that I was picking at a mole/wart thing on my arm, which he told me NOT to do, and that is what was bleeding.  Thankfully he didn't ask why I was bleeding, he was only concerned with why the tampon was there.

Him: (Sarcastically) "Well I suppose that makes sense now doesn't it?"

Me:  "Would you rather I bled to death at the bus stop?  Our son would have found me, bloodied and dead because I didn't think outside the box and use a tampon to save my own life!"

He knew what I was saying made sense, so he just walked away.  He knows he can't win these arguments with me as my logic is impeccable.  It's also why he usually doesn't want to ask in the first place.  He has learned to not put me in a position where I have to explain myself.  Sometimes it's just easier to let it go, and keep going.

Battling the Plague While My Dogs Talk to Me

For the last several days I've been doing battle.  I've been battling a plague that my son brought home from that germ pit known as "school".

For two days I was sick, then on the third day I felt fabulous, so I ran around town all day celebrating my last day of summer.  Unfortunatley, probably infecting the masses while I was at it.  Please accept my apologies if we were in close proximity on Thursday.  I truly felt fine that day.

Apparently this virus lulls you into a false sense of security, making you think you are well, so that you will go forth and spread it, ensuring its survival among the peoples of Earth.  The day after running around town, I woke up feeling worse than I did the first two days.

Needless to say, aside from sleeping, doing shots of Nyquil, and taking hundreds of photos of my dogs, jack shit got done this last week.

"Hold my bone, shit just got real!"

TJ and Loki are in my lap in this next photo.  It just occured while looking at this pic, that though I've been showering, I've been wearing these PJ pants, those socks and this sweatshirt for four days. Note to self: Change clothes today.

"Did you just fart?"

These dogs have some nerve! For the record I did not fart.  As a female I am incapable of such activities.  When the dogs started talking to me, I realized that it was time to back off on the Nyquil.

Another sign that you need to back off on the cold meds is when you check your phone in the morning, and realize that you emailed the following photo to multiple friends telling them that you found the perfect entertainment for their holiday party this year.

My friend James needs to take some responsibility for that one, being that he sent that photo to me first, which is how it got in my phone to begin with.  He is such a bad influence on me, which is of course why I love him.

Anyways, today is a new day.  At this moment I'm still feeling under the weather, but I'm going to shower, change my clothes, maybe even put a bra on and pants that zip and button.

My Last Day of Summer: Boats, Beer, Benefits, Disorders and Politicians

My last day of summer was quite eventful.  I attended a "Keep the Vibe Alive" boat cruise on Lake Minnetonka to support three wonderful candidates running for office in my town of Excelsior, Minnesota.

I'm pretty sure I made it out of there only offending one person. The stud muffin is right, I really do need to install a speed bump between my thoughts and my mouth.  I suffer from a disability known as "Foot in Mouth Disorder."  To date, there is no known cure.  It's a condition exacerbated by crowds and alcohol.

After telling the stud muffin what happened and how mortified I was, he said, "Repeat after me. It is NEVER appropriate to tell a man that his photo looks like he just got busted for prostitution!"  In my defense, when a man doesn't smile in a photo, it looks like a mugshot.

My Foot in Mouth Disorder otherwise known as "FMD", is just one of the many reasons why you will never see me running for office, which is why I want to support those who can and will do a good job in our town.  They have my support, even if I'm not invited back to anymore events.

I truly am trying to do better, it just doesn't come naturally to me.  Apparently when mouth filters were being handed out I was in line for a double dose of the "loves wine" gene.  I'm thinking of starting a 5K to benefit finding a cure for Foot in Mouth Disorder.

Here I am on the boat cruise with John from the Excelsior Brewing Company.  He is NOT the person I offended, as you can tell by this photo where he is smiling, and not looking like he just got busted for prostitution.

Coincidentally after the boat cruise, I was heading to meet some friends at the Excelsior Brewing Company, before heading to the Taste of the Lakes Gala benefiting the ICA Food Shelf.  It was a busy day!  After a wardrobe change I headed to my next gathering.

Mona, Trish, me, Jill, and Cheri who came all the way from Utah

Mona and her fabulous husband Mike, (who is not so fabulous at taking photos with my phone, as you can see here, though I do look better slightly blurry), love beer.  What better place to take Mona's sister and her husband who were visiting from Utah, than to our very own local brewery!  Not everyone from Utah is Mormon.  So, before you think we made the faux pas of taking two Mormons to a brewery, we did not.  Though from Utah, they are not Mormon, which made the brewery an acceptable venue.

Other than some face licking, which I had nothing to do with, we enjoyed a lovely visit together before Jill and I had to head to the Taste of the Lakes gala, just down the street.  My friend Jill is quite the foodie with a fun blog called Sassy Family.  Being a foodie she was the perfect person to attend a food tasting event with, plus she doesn't complain when I put extra helpings of free food in my purse for later.

One of my favorite comedians is Kristin Anderson, who is also a friend, and she was the co-host of the Taste of the Lakes Gala.  Kristin always makes me feel so normal.  When I get around to creating a 5K and Gala for Food in Mouth Disorder, I'm going to have Kristin emcee it.

Kristin and I at last night's Gala

It's always a pleasure to see Excelsior Mayor Nick Ruehl.  I let him know how he was stirring up my abandonment issues by retiring as Mayor.  I've known Nick for about five years, and despite my Foot in Mouth Disorder, he continues to be photographed with me in public, and remains a friend.  If we do find a cure for FMD, I may name it after Nick for being such a cool guy.

With Excelsior Mayor Nick Ruehl

My last day of summer was very busy.  When Jill dropped me off we congratulated ourselves on being such wild party animals, despite being in our 40s.  Of course it was 9:00pm, but hey it was a full day.

Apparently I Stink, Am Broke and Need Viagra

Like most of you I get a lot of spam, and not the good kind.  Not the yummy hormel meat in a can that I love so much.  You can say what you want about any other food, but talk crap about my beloved Spam, and I will cut you!

Email spam infects my computer like Herpes at a frat party.  I can't help but wonder how or why my email address ended up on some of these email list.  Some of them make sense, but others leave me with a WTF taste in my mouth, and not the good kind of WTF as in, "WTF is Christian Bale doing in my bedroom".  No this is a "WTF, why am I getting Christian Singles emails." Not the Christian I was hoping for.

My most recent batch of spam emails are these:

These basically say that I'm a stink ass in desperate need of a bath who is broke and lacking in health insurance.  But, Dr. Mrs. Veronica is coming to my resuce with 2.5 million dollars that she wants to transfer to me from Nigeria, which will give me the cash I need to buy tons of Viagra from the Canadian Pharmacy.

A few of these are not that far off the mark, but most of the time my spam email makes me question just who I am, or at least what I'm putting out there about myself.

What do your spam emails say about you?

Washington Politics, Future Husbands, and a Dab of Semen

This was my annual trip to Washington D.C. as a representative from Minnesota at the "Zero Summit to End Prostate Cancer."  I became involved with advocating for Prostate Cancer Research through my BFF Tamara Jett, whose father has fought Prostate Cancer.

Tamara and I traveled together to the summit, and visited with our State lawmakers to advocate for support in tackling a cancer that effects 1 in 6 men. You may remember my BFF Tamara from "Please Don't Speak Directly to the Title Holder" and our trip to Puerto Rico a few months ago.

Tamara and I seeing if the Obamas were at the Capitol and wanted to hit happy hour with us.

No such luck on having happy hour with the Obamas, so we went to a Congressional Reception instead.  We were happy to be reunited with our friend John who is a Physician's Assistant in St. Cloud Minnesota.  We met John at last year's summit.

Natalie, John and Tamara at the Congressional Reception

John is a great guy, and very knowledgable.  During the summit I realized that I may have over medicated myself and feared I would OD right then and there on the floor of the Summit while Congressman Barrow was giving a speech.

I didn't want to interrupt what was a fabulous talk, so I texted John who was two seats over to make sure he knew what medications I was taking, so he could share that info with the paramedics should I pass out.  John assured me that it was impossible to OD by taking Zyrtec, Midol and Advil together.  I think his phone died after that because he stopped responding to my text messages.

Aside from what we learned in the summit, I learned a few other things about Washington D.C.

1. You should never say "Let's photo bomb that press conference" in front of police holding giant guns while at the Capitol.  For those who don't know, "photo bomb" means to jump in the photo when you aren't supposed to be in it.

2. You can not take photos in the cafeteria of the Senate building, or you will meet the Secret Service, who will eye you intently until you leave.

3. D.C. is a great place to meet potential husbands for your daughters.

I met a very impressive young man at the Summit who is at the top of my list for potential husbands for one of my daughters.  He spends his summers in D.C. interning, when he isn't back in high school in Miami.

He is too young for my daughter now, but I gave him my card and said to stay in touch as in 10 years I thought they could make this work. He liked her photo, so I have high hopes.

They left our table and never returned shortly after we spoke, but I'm sure it's just because they wanted to go add "Marry Natalie's daughter" to their future calendars.

Tamara and I have traveled quite a few times together and we work like a well oiled machine.  Despite that a few things occured that made me question her commitment to our friendship.

First off, on our return home she refused to switch seats with me when I found a semen stain on my seat.  I always give her the window seat because she likes to lean on it and sleep during our flights.  I'm thoughtful like that.  She knows how grossed out I get by these kinds of things, but she remained unhelpful during my plight, beyond laying down a piece of paper for me to sit on, covering the semen stain.

It's obvious what this is!

On the next leg of our flight there was a seat between Tamara and I.  Thankfully one without body fluids that we could see.  I decided to kick my shoes off and spread out a little, so as to decompress from the last flight and trauma.

Tamara had the audacity to say my feet were "hummin", which apparently means the same as stinky.  After all I had been through, you would think she would be more understanding.

Tamara giving my feet the evil eye

I sat in semen on the other flight to ensure her comfort.  I thought it a bit rude that she would complain about an alleged slight odor. I gave her a chance to redeem herself by buying matching cheesehead hats while we laid over in Wisconsin, but she would have nothing to do with it.

Me trying to get Tamara into the spirit of Wisconsin

Washington D.C. is always a great place to visit.  The Prostate Cancer Summit was a success and we were even able to squeeze in some fun, shop for a husband for my daughters, and narrowly escape getting an STD from an airplane seat.

Puppies, Humping and Hoping for Strippers

Like most new mothers I'm short on sleep and showers.  Work isn't getting done.  My hair is in a permanent greasy ponytail and I'm running late to everything.  Totally not my normal.

The kids and I would like for you to meet the reason why I'm currently rocking the homeless chic look.  Say hello to our newest addition, TJ.

TJ during his first trip to the store for his own leash

TJ will never replace Dexter, but he is helping us to heal, and he is proving to be a fabulous addition to our family.  Here he is with his brother Loki, who joined our family almost two years ago.

TJ and Loki, keeping it real

We wanted to name him "Thor" being that his brother's name is Loki, but after spending time with him we realized it wasn't a good fit.  Based on our first day with him I wanted to name him "The happy humper", but the stud muffin said that was too long a name. We settled on TJ, which is short for Thor Junior.

The happy humper having his way with Loki

TJ is about 13 weeks old right now and is a Maltese, Long Haired Chihuahua mix.  He came from the same breeder as Loki, who is a Maltese.  

I'm looking forward to having TJ fully potty trained, and use to our home and routine.  I don't function well without sleep. Yesterday I tried to sign a credit card receipt with a tampon I pulled out of my purse.

Today I had a belated birthday lunch with my friend Tina.  I'm sure I sounded either drunk or like a stroke victim.  Breaking in a new puppy is not a sleep friendly activity.

When I walked into the restaurant to meet Tina, late of course, my birthday surprise caused me to jump out of my dazed, sleep deprived fog.  Tina showed me what she had gotten me for my birthday.  There stood a  tall, dark and handsome man, with arms that could lift a water buffalo.

How you doin?

I thought to myself , finally someone got me a stripper!  I've been asking for one for years.  Though  I was surprised that this was going to go down in the middle of a restaurant, but hey I was tired and needed the boost so who was I to question the situation.

Just when I was ready to start pulling dollar bills out of my purse, Tina pointed out the flower arrangement that the Greek God was holding.  Apparently the flowers, not the man, was my present.

Despite the misunderstanding we had a lovely lunch served to us by Mr. Hot Body, who turns out was our waiter, Nick.

I definitely need to start getting more sleep.

Weekend From Hell

After my hellish weekend, I'm ready for some good news of any kind to dissipate the stench of despair that lingers within the walls of my home.

The weekend started with saying goodbye to Dexter, our four legged family member of 13 years.  He passed peacefully in the lap of his one and only boy, my son.

The day after I spent 12 hours on a couch on my porch, covered in pastry crumbs and snot.  It was the day before my 42nd birthday, and the first birthday since my mother passed away.  Try as I might, I could not get off that couch or out of my PJ's.  Loosing Dexter and facing my birthday without my mom brought up so many emotions.

My friends stopped by, bringing me treats for my birthday in an effort to cheer me up.  Though I appreciated the gesture I reminded them that my temporary depression would pass, but diabetes was forever, so enough with the baked goods.

After a good night's sleep, thanks to unisom, which I'm careful not to abuse. My friend James and I have vowed to go to unisom rehab together if our unisom use ever gets out of hand.

When my birthday morning arrived I felt like a new person.  I had a fabulous tear free birthday filled with calls, texts and facebook birthday wishes.

This weekend was a very tough one.  Though, I was reminded that I have some pretty fabulous, caring people in my life.  From friends to family, I'm truly blessed and thankful that these people continue to put up with me.