So here are 7 Random Things About Me:
1) I hate Crocs. I own two pairs and my kids and hubby own a dozen each, and they are so practical in their waterproofness and all that, but I just can't stand them. Have you ever seen anyone over the age of 10 and under the hotness of my hubby (and he only looks good in them when he's being a hotty doctor in his scrubs and all) that actually look good in them? I look like a fool in them and even though they are the most comfy shoes I've ever owned, I've never worn them in public.
2) I talk too much. People don't even bother pussy-footing around it anymore. The bottom line is I talk a LOT. More than most people. I'm overly enthusiastic too. Especially in public. Most people think I'm insane. Or ADHD. Really, they do.
3) I love to eat and drink. Sigh. It's sad, but true. I could eat and drink just about all day. If I didn't have kids to take care of. And if I didn't have places to drive to. And if I could talk with a terrific girlfriend at the same time? And if she loved to eat and drink too? And if it didn't make me gain 800 pounds? Sigh. I could eat and drink all day.
4) I love HBO. And I love when my hubby is in the mood to love it too. Sometimes, he's too tired to care. One of my favorite things in the world to do is to get the kids to bed, pop some popcorn, pour some wine, and settle in for some seriously awesome HBO. Almost anything will do---the Sopranos, Big Love, Six Feet Under, Entourage, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Sex in the City, oh man and Deadwood. Those are my favorites.
5) I prefer to be bra-less. Granted, I rarely ever get the opportunity to actually go bra-less, but it is my preferred way to be. Usually, the first thing I do when I walk in the door is take off my bra. I'm usually just entering the house from the garage and have no where to set my bra but the top of the dryer, so there's where it sits. As if I just washed, dried, and folded it. One of the many things I absolutely despised about having my BIL live with us is feeling like I had to leave my bra on.
6) I regularly punch myself in the stomach. Really, I do. It's the only part of my physical self that I actually sort of like (so sad, but true), my abs, that is, and so I regularly sock it to myself just to convince either myself, my girls, or anyone else who gives a crap, that I have some seriously buff abs. I'm fond of socking myself in the abs while in front of the mirror in the girls' bathroom while I'm helping them brush their teeth and I'll say something stupid like, "When you do sit ups your tummy gets nice and strong like Mommy's." It's my lamo attempt at helping them to love themselves instead of despising their cellulite-covered thighs. Of course, they don't have any cellulite yet, but I do, and you know, they will someday. Oh bother. Not fond of the cellulite.
7) I only have to do four simple things to please my husband. Really. He's very easy to please. (1) I must make the coffee. Oh my stars this means the world to the man. If I just make the coffee, set the coffeemaker to go off before he wakes up, I am a goddess. (2) I must buy sun dried olives. It's very simple, other than the fact that they cost $14/jar and I can only get them at this fancy-schmancy cook shop. He loves him some olives. (3) I must cook meat. I must cook any kind of meat. Give him the choice between unbelievably gourmet awesomeness with no meat, or slow-cooked pork, and there's no contest. Sigh. (4) Well, you know the last one.
On another note, thank you to everyone for commenting! We hit 14! (but we cheated, sort of). Thank you Mrs G!