Me & my underutilized uterus are doing more than fine!

Sometimes I wonder if I'll have kids of my own. I can count on one hand the times in my life that I have felt a little uterus pang regarding this topic, so it's not something that I feel like I'm missing out on. I leave it up to fate, because while I'd love having a healthy, committed, long-term relationship with a man (do those still exist?), I don't need my own kids to round that out or to make me feel "whole".

I'm sure a huge part of not having an insatiable need for my own kids is because I can't imagine bringing anyone better into this world than my 2 nephews, and trust me when I tell you that I've never said anything more truthful than that. They're such good, fun-loving, smart, interesting, sometimes challenging (in a good way) people.

They're totally different from each other (and somewhat indifferent TO each other, but they'll grow out of that) just like their mom & I were at their ages-- and both, in their own ways, tremendous young men who have made my life... well, that's just it: THEY'VE MADE MY LIFE.

So, if I never have kids of my own, it's okay. For real.

Case in point:

Click to enlarge.

Obviously, my nephew Jason (15) has incredible taste. Dylan (17) does, too, but he hasn't seen that status update yet. Also, they have more than one aunt, so it's not an empty/brown nose-y compliment. That ish is REAL.

Beat that, mothertruckers. Oh, wait. You can't. ;)

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Public Service Announcement: The difference between bad & good baby gifts

Before reading any further, take a deep breath.

Please remember that I have a good sense of humor, and know that I understand the idea of the joke for stuff like this, I really do. However, you'll never convince me that it's actually funny, or cute, or charming in any way:


So many questions, starting with why would you spend money on these kinds of things? and for who? and why?!

Take it in. "My Mom is Hot"? "My Dad's a HOTTIE"? Dumb. Do. Not. Buy.

The parents of my favorite twins are, to be sure, HOTTIES... but their kids don't need bibs embroidered with those sentiments, and it's not because they're too mature or uptight. When the 3 of us are together, most of our time is spent working as many "That's what he said/That's what she said" responses into a conversation as possible.

Being a good gift-giver takes thoughtfulness, time, research, and taking personality/likes into account. I pride myself on it. Finding the perfect gift for the people in my life offers up a satisfaction I can hardly describe, but if there is a word for smugness you keep to yourself*, that would be the exact feeling I get every time.

The following is the right move to make when your friends have kids. Trust. Especially if they're adorable twins**. What we have here are the girl and boy versions of "Conserve Water! Drink Chocolate Milk." t-shirts from Target. I bought them both too-adorable-for-words jeans from Target, too. His were just plain dark denim, and hers had that girly cut with pink embroidery on the cute pockets (which you can kind of see in the last photo):


©HouseofJulesPhotography. All rights reserved.


©HouseofJulesPhotography. All rights reserved.


One parting shot of little Miss Thang, working her new outfit from Aunt Julesie:

©HouseofJulesPhotography. All rights reserved.

I didn't spent a truckload of cash, either. Both outfits (2 shirts + 2 jeans) cost less than $30 TOTAL.


*Though technically, by writing this post I'm no longer keeping it to myself!

**It's surprising how many people ask if they're identical. Identical twins are IDENTICAL, which means that if one is a boy and one is a girl, there is no scientifically possible way they could be.

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No Mo' NaBloPoMo, otherwise known as NaBloPoNoDingo

Yesterday marked my last NaBloPoMo entry. I actually did it, 30 posts in 30 days, so bring on the prizes!

Now that I have the luxury of posting whenever I want, without the threat of a dingo eating my future children, I am feeling both slightly woozy AND drunk with power. Or maybe it's all that wine.

I made this custom badge and am happy to share it with my fellow NaBloPoMo survivors! Just click on the below image and it should download to your desktop. All I ask is you leave a little hello in the comments so I can make my way over to your blog and see what you're about!


NaBloPoNoDingo!


Yes, yes, my fabulous readers; I've gotten your e-mails asking if I'm still planning to post with the same amount of fervor. Don't panic! Fervor is my middle name. I'm still going to be posting a lot, possibly even every day; although I can't be held down to this kind of commitment forever, you know. Otherwise I'll never be able to have children with my future baby-daddy for the dingoes to feed on, and what's more important that that?

I have big plans to Blo the Po out of this Mo!

I am now a member of NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month) which means that I committed to blog EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. IN. NOVEMBER. This is going to be a real test for my ability to be entertaining 30 days in a row.

I have no idea what happens if I miss a day but I assume that they go into the future and steal my first born child, and then I'd be forced to scream something like "NaBloPoMo STOLE MY BABY" in an Australian accent like Meryl Streep & that baby-stealing dingo in "A Cry in the Dark".

I'm not that great at pulling off accents though, so I'd sound more like Elaine on Seinfeld:

The dingo ATE. YOUR. BAY-BEE!


Keep coming back daily to see how this all turns out, and be sure to leave comments! My future children are depending on it.

So our baby will know how much deep thought and introspection his father & I put into naming him

In August, I wrote this birthday post to a friend who goes WAY back to the days of yore, otherwise known as middle school. In it, I mentioned our long lost friend, Todd; and wrote that if by some chance he ever came across it that he should leave a comment with his e-mail address so that we can get back in touch after 20 years.

Two weeks ago today, on what just so happened to be HIS birthday, his sister Google'd his name, came across the post and told him, "Some people are talking about you." That night, he & I were basically reconnected with the click of a button. After a couple of email exchanges, we were on the phone a few nights later. For 3 hours. Picking up right where we left off. Like it was yesterday. Good old Google!

In middle school (and I'm happy to report, still to this day!) Todd's bawdy sense of humor and ability to flirt with ease meant that every one of us girls adored him in such a way that we all wanted to hug him and love him and squeeze him and call him George. He was THAT cute.

If you remember (or 'remember-ize', which is a brand new word he made up tonight during our conversation, a hybrid of 'remember' and 'memorize') back in the 80's, "Stud Muffin" was the thing to call a hot dude, or any guy who had a harem of girls surrounding him at all times. Todd was both, except he was small--like a breakfast sandwich--so I started calling him McMuffin and for the remainder of 8th grade it stuck.


Before *McDreamy or **McSteamy there was McMuffin. How about that? I've been coming up with gems like this for 20 years! {*McDreamy and **McSteamy refer to character nicknames for 2 incredibly hot doctors on the show Grey's Anatomy. You know, in case you have been living under a rock and don't already know that.}

Like last week's marathon phone call, tonight's two-hour talk-fest featured comedic moments a-plenty, filled to capacity with exchanged one-liners and loads of sarcasm, which is really the only way to ever keep me on the phone (and laughing my ass off) for that long. Near the end of our conversation I was asking him where he had traveled for work this week, and the next thing you know, we're having a baby together:

Todd: Hey, I was in your time zone today! Could you feel it?

Me: Aww, I wish I would have known that ahead of time. Maybe then I wouldn't have forgotten to shave my legs this morning. Although, now that you mention it, today DID feel different from all the other days over the past 20 years. It was as if I knew it without knowing I knew it. You know?

Todd: Listen to us, it's just like that animated movie about the russian mouse trying to find his family! (singing) Somewhere out there, beneath that pale moonlight, someone's thinking of me...

Me: Fievel?! Oh my God, we officially have a song. I'm the Linda Ronstadt to your Peabo Bryson!

Todd: Peabo Bryson! Hey, I like that! It's perfect. Let's have a kid and name him Peabo...PEABOHHHHHHHHH!

Me: Peabo McMuffin.

Todd: Peabo FIEVEL McMuffin. We gotta give the russian singing mouse some credit.

Me: Done and done!

UPDATE: I just rememberized that James Ingram sang the duet "Somewhere Out There" with Linda Ronstadt. I was thinking of Peabo's duet with Roberta Flack, "Tonight I Celebrate my Love for You". Frankly, the lyrics and tone of those tracks are totally interchangeable, and I mean that in the good, "1980's sway to a cheesy love song at the middle school dance" kind of way.

Don't worry, we'll still name our kid Peabo!

Class of 2026, arriving both early AND late.

Riley & Aiden, fresh from the oven.

Sue ("Scooter" to me!) & Todd's little ones arrived today, both early and late.

"Early" because their official due date was set to be next month, on September 18th.

"Late" because a week ago, Scooter had enough of the whole pregnancy thing and let it be known to all people--near and far--that the babies had 5 more days to enjoy the womb, and then they had to pack up and get out. An important parental lesson: Eviction notices don't work on tenants still in utero. She expected compliance, but they made her sweat it out for 2 more days.

So, there you have it... early AND late. But really, right on time.



Back in the day: Their first House of Jules shout-out!

What comes after "One for the money"?

Oh yeah, "Two for the show".

These little ones are sharing a WOMB at the beautiful Chateau Scooter. She & Todd (not to mention the rest of us) could not be more excited. Only 5 months left!

I can't wait for them to spit up on me within 2 minutes of our introduction, just like their cousin Michael did when he was a baby. I'm also looking very forward to telling them about how their mom & I used to be perfect little angels in high school and never did anything wrong at all. Nope, not us. You must have heard the story incorrectly, we didn't do it. We are not responsible for that incident.

When we were 16 and taking home ec., I "babysat" Scooter's egg-baby one morning. Her egg-baby and my egg-baby helped me with my english assignment. I hope when the twins arrive that they are just as good at iambic pentameter, because Aunty Julie could use a refresher course, you know, in case we run into Ms. Hill in the hallway without a pass and she punishes us with extra homework. Not that I ever roamed the halls without a pass. I have no idea how these rumors get started.

A what-ing machine?

The long-awaited phone call that the littlest ladybug had finally been born after 16 hours of labor:
"She has arrived, and she is a sh*tting machine!"

Her very own mother did NOT just call her that, did she? Oh honey, yes she did, and she meant it. I've heard stories since then that you wouldn't believe. Isn't she just the cutest, though?



Congratulations Staci & Frank on your little (now one-month-young!) babe. I can't wait to meet her!

P.S. Do you think she's too young for me to tell her about the night we watched in horror as JimBuck set your dorm room ceiling on fire with hairspray & a lighter (it began too quickly to react, and luckily it ended just as quickly, due to his ninja-like skills)? Not something she can comprehend yet? Too scary? Oh well, there's time.

I'll ease her into it with unbelievable tales of her mommy driving a Fiero when we were in college. Talk about frightening! She'd NEVER believe it anyway, but it will surely put her to sleep.