Are They Trying to Sell Clothes with Mirrors Like Those?!

I snuck out tonight to do some shopping at Tar Zhay without the kiddos. I tried on some clothes and while doing so caught a glance of my backside in their lovely mirrors.

At first I wondered if somebody else had gotten into the dressing room with me.  When I verified that it was indeed only me in the dressing room, I was shocked, dismayed, depressed, etc. Since my backside is always walking behind me, it's not often that I get to see it up close and personal. It wasn't a pleasant meeting.

I decided not to get the clothes until I could come back having logged 100 hours on a stairmaster.

So here's my unsolicited advice to Target:

First off, Target dude, are you really trying to sell clothes with mirrors like those? Because the only things that you might have a chance at selling with such mirrors are some diet books, bottled water and exercise gear. In fact maybe you should set up a stand right outside the dressing room with fresh vegetables and protein bars for easy grabbing. 

Actually, the more I think about it....you also might add another stand with mint Oreo cookies and chick flicks and big comfy jammy pants. You know on those days when the mirrors are so depressing we think, hey who's gonna notice one more cookie on this caboose?

But if you're not so into these ideas and really do want to sell clothes, here's the deal: take your mirrors back to the funhouse. Ask them for the ones that subtract fifteen pounds and erase stretch marks and cellulite. And while you're at it, could you dim the lights a little for me too?

Into the Closet

Isaiah is about six months old now and has been sleeping in our room since he was born. He still likes to check in with me every few hours to tell me how he's doing and ask for some warm milk. As much fun as these late-night to early-morning chats are, I started thinking I'd like to try sleeping through the night, or something close to that. 

When we talked about moving Isaiah out of the room, I couldn't think of anywhere to put him. The playroom and the kids' room wouldn't work because Isaiah naps during the day.  Our guest bedroom, or MDJ Development World Headquarters, was an obvious no-go.

Then Michael suggested putting him in my closet. To which I said, "Are you out of your mind?! What kind of person puts their baby in the closet?" Yeah, right! Absurd Michael.

But the more I thought about it, the more sense it made. My closet is a decent- size little room that's very quiet and dark.  My closet is close enough for me to hear Isaiah at night, but far enough away so that I can get some sleep. And my closet is less likely to attract the notice of aspiring track stars (i.e., big brother) who like to hurdle cribs and land on top of sleeping infants. 

It turned out Michael's absurd idea wasn't quite so absurd after all. I just had to step back from all the cultural norm jazz. After all, just because he doesn't have his own beautiful nursery room doesn't mean I love him any less.

But I must admit, it does make me laugh whenever I see him in there. 

I'm hoping the clothes hanging over his head like a colorful, multi-textured mobile will get his creative juices flowing. Perhaps C.S. Lewis also spent his infant years in a closet too. Or did they call it a wardrobe?

You Know You Need a Style Overhaul When

On Saturday, we took the kids to Hamilton Pool. Michael swam out with Emma and Evan while I waded waist-deep into the water with Isaiah. Isaiah started smiling and being flirty with a lady and her daughter who were standing nearby.  So I started chatting with this lady. Eventually she asked me what my baby's name was. I said it was Isaiah.

To this she replied, "I thought you were going to say that." 

Really? Um, why? With thousands of boy names in this world, why would she think my baby's name was Isaiah?

I mean, was it because I was wearing something like this?

Yep, that was me, the religious fundamentalist lady just kicking it with my sister wives at Hamilton. So of course it would be natural for one to guess that my baby was named something biblical, because after all wasn't I in the dead giveaway outfit? The lovely wrist to ankle 1800s dress with my hair french-braided down to my bum. 

No, not even. Granted, I wasn't skimping around in hang-it-all-out there bikini fashion. But I didn't think I was so completely off the fashion radar as to instantly convey to people that I would name my children Ezekiel or Jeremiah or Isaiah. 

And here's me with Evan in my church lady swim outfit. Dude, the rash guard was for sun protection! But now that I think about it, I bet that's what did me in on the style meter. Oh and having three kids, one of them a baby on my hip probably helped things along.  

So now you see how my sad little mind works.  Someone assumes I'm a good Christian woman and all I can think is, "Man, I really need a style overhaul."

Ask a Ninjormon

Michael found this the other night on YouTube. All I can say is I started crying from laughing so hard. Enjoy.