I’ve been saving these up to compile a post for awhile and I think I have enough now. So today, I bring you my most interesting Google search referrals to my blog.
My top referrer by a landslide is “Kate Gosselin’s belly”. I show up in the first page for this! Apparently, people are dying to see a picture of it. Well, you won’t find it here. But, I think my saggy skin pouch could compete with hers pretty easily. I saw her show hers on national TV and I have to say that mine is totally that bad and I only carried one baby at a time. For carrying six at once, I expected hers to at least be at her knees. Not impressed!
“My toddler destroys all his board books” – I have a feeling this person was trying to find a way to make her toddler stop destroying all his board books. If she ever finds out I hope she will share the secret, because all books are still on ban in our house for this reason.
“tattoo in snatch, large picture” – No comment. Just a mouth-gaping expression of disgust. And then lots of laughing.
“coral reef tattoo” – This one cracks me up because the first thing that popped into my head was an image of a big pile of my husband’s poo tattooed on someone’s bicep.
I get lots of hits from searches for different types of tattoos, like nurse tattoos, Boston terrier tattoos, wild boar tattoos and quilt tattoos. I would kindly suggest to anyone thinking about inking themselves up with a wild boar or a portrait of their dog that they reconsider. The only thing I dislike more than human portraits is pet portraits. But if anyone has ever seen a quilt tattoo, I want to know! That would be wild. And totally something I would get.
“public breastfeeding laws in the media” – It makes me smile to know that my blog shows up for this.
Okay, so I didn’t have as many as I thought. What are some crazy search terms that have pointed people to your blog?
On our way up to bed last night, DH casually informed me that he gave my blog address to his grandmother. I stood there stunned for a few moments and then the following conversation ensued. Imagine my voice as more of a frantic howl.
Me: “Why would you do that?!” DH: “What?” Me: “Why would you give your grandmother my blog address?!” DH: “Um.. I.. don’t know?” Me: “What if I want to write about my period!!” DH: “I’m pretty sure she used to have one of those.” Me: “What if I want to write about our sex life?” DH: “She knows we have sex.” Me: “But! But! Why would you DO that?!” DH: “She said she was not good with bookmarks so I don’t think you need to worry.”
More stunned silence.
Me: “I am so blogging about this tomorrow.”
So Nese, if you’re reading this, HI! I love you and I promise I won’t write about anything too terribly embarrassing. Or if I do, I’ll try to put a warning at the top, something like “If you wish to read about my horrid yeast infection, proceed with caution” or “This post involves 42 swear words.” Just kidding, I don’t swear much. But the yeast infection thing.. I can’t make any promises about that!
I’ve been sitting here staring at this white box for several minutes now, trying to come up with a witty, attention-getting blog post and the words are just failing me tonight. It’s almost intimidating. Isn’t that pathetic? I doubt hardly anyone even reads this aside from my husband and still
Wow, that whole paragraph was going nowhere fast. Curse you, Dawn Meehan! I can’t write anything now without contemplating the thought that I need to make it good enough to catch Nickelodeon’s attention. Well tonight the words just aren’t coming to me so I’ll have to let my literary genius shine another night. Or something.
I really shouldn’t let days pass between blog posts because too much happens and I could spend days blogging everything. So instead, I’ll talk about something that happened today. A couple days ago, I listed our Arm’s Reach Co-sleeper on Craigslist. Bex hasn’t slept in it since he was two weeks old so it’s been serving as a nice, over-sized remote control caddy for the past five months. Might as well clear it out of here and make some money, right? Plus, DH told me I can’t buy a new double stroller until I sell some of the other baby junk that’s cluttering up the house. And my very tired of 22-pound-baby arms are telling me that that double stroller is very necessary.
So anyway, a woman contacted me about the co-sleeper and we arranged for her and her husband to come look at it today. When they got here I took them upstairs to show them how it worked, had several moments of feeling very very stupid because I couldn’t get the thing to collapse (way to make them feel confident in their purchase!) and finally got it figured out and out the door with them. As soon as they left, I did what any normal person does: I looked her up on Myspace. Oh, wait, that’s not normal?
I’m being honest, though. I did. Maybe I’m the only one that does this, or maybe not, but when I meet someone new, I am always wondering if it is someone I could form a friendship with. Maybe that’s just the reclusive SAHM in me, but it’s the truth. I look at every young mom I see as a potential friend for me and playmates for my boys. A couple for DH and I to socialize with. I’m sure everyone that has kids knows that as soon as the first one is born, your friend network is minimized by about 90%. The only people who want to hear about sleepless night and poop and teething and Mr. Clean Magic Erasers are other parents who also deal with sleepless nights and poop and teething and Mr. Clean Magic Erasers.
I told DH that I found her on Myspace and the first thing he said way, “Oh, you did not add her, did you?”
“God no, I’m taking it slow, I don’t wanna scare her off!”
But let me tell you, I did think about adding her. Is that stalkerish? Rhetorical question. I settled instead for emailing her back to say thanks again and ask her if she wanted to take a travel swing off our hands. I had set it upstairs intending to send it with them and totally spaced it. She emailed back and said they would love it and we could set up a time later this week to meet up. She also complimented my well-behaved children and now I’m wondering if I emailed the right person.
And yes, I bounced into the kitchen to tell DH. Yes, he made fun of me and my new “love interest.” And no, it does not take much to excite me.
Oh, and I almost forgot. After they left, I tossed the envelope containing the money into the office on the floor. Ten seconds later I turned around just in time to see that Sam had wedged out the bottom corner of the baby gate, snatched the envelope, removed the cash and was bounding off shrieking, “Me get the dollars!” I panicked and snatched them back, because we are talking about the king of paper shredding, after all. To which he pouted very pathetically and convincingly. So I gave him a single dollar bill, and he carried that dollar bill around for the rest of the evening. Did not shred so much as a corner of it. I almost expected him to kiss the dollar and hang it on the wall a la Mr. Krabs, but then I realized I probably watch a little too much Spongebob.
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