Another Question of the Day

Question: Where do babies come from?

Audra's Answer: Really? Of all the questions in the world to pick from the air, the first one I thought of was this? Ok, so let's talk about it. Why can't babies "come from" a stork? I guess besides the total danger of flying a newborn high above the world in nothing but a thin piece of cloth tied up like a sling and dangling from a beak could have something to do with it. But think of how lovely it would be!

No painful birth for starters. Things wouldn't get all out of whack and never really quite get back the way they're supposed to. No feeling hungover for 4 months and going postal when you discover someone (aka husband) ate the last sleeve of Saltines after he stumbling home drunk and those CRACKERS ARE A NECESSARY SURVIVAL TOOL.

The weight gain, the endless heartburn, the insomnia, the excessive exhaustion, the fretting over the crib linens, do you get the matching bumper set or is it a waste of money (clearly waste of money since you're not supposed to use them anyway...dampens oxygen flow or some crap), do you get the glider with the rocking footstool or is that fluff like the bumpers (GO for the rocking footstool...good use of funds), the breast pump (that deserves a line of its own but for my own sanity's sake I will keep going), baby bottles, baby food (do you make your own? Hell no...), diapers...cloth or world-ending-live-in-a-landfill-forever disposables? My goodness, the list could go on, and on, and on...and it does.

But, to answer my question...where do babies come from? They ALL come from an incredible woman who's body did some crazy shit to bring you into this world. And if we moms could trade it all in for a stork delivery? I bet most of us would definitely think about it....

Cheers to all the amazing moms out there...

Question of the Day

My first "Audra's Answers to the Question of the Day" is dedicated to my Book Club...who recently just took things a little too seriously and provoked me to respond with such crap that it sparked some deeply buried creative seed that is now presenting itself. It also reminded me I have a blog. And some people actually read it. So, here goes...

Question: "How many times during a baseball game does the catcher get gassed?"

Audra's Answer:

Clearly when you are raising two boys there is bound to be an orchestra of bodily noises playing during a good part of the day. Therefore, burps and farts are just a normal part of my world. For those of you with girls, or who are just a little prudish, you may be reading this with your mouth gaped open thinking "and she seems so polite and proper to write about such things". Boy moms are all nodding with a small smile on their face.

So, with that, back to the question at hand. Baseball players are not really known for their "Emily Post-Like" manners on the field. The spitting, the chewing, the sunflower seed spitting. So naturally, bodily noises are a part of the game too. Just think of the effort a baseball player uses when he swings a wooden bat at a hard ball traveling towards his face going mach 1. It's rapid response with alot of force. He's standing with his legs spread, his bottom (we're not allowed to say butt in this house) extended, and he's exerting force. a+b=c.

Now if you think about it, there is a man squatting right behind him as all this is going on. Bless him.

And, I bet some batters just do it on purpose because there is an enemy's nose inches from his derriere.

So, to answer the question... LOTS!

And for the record, I have turned into quite the baseball fan. After totally screwing up a year ago by not wearing red on opening day, I redeemed both the boys and I this year. Cardinals attire from head to toe. And yes, that's me with some Cardinals baseball boys.

Climbing Mountains

So, I've decided a few things. One of them is to face my fears head on. For those of you who know me well, you know I HATE HEIGHTS. Even when I was young, climbing the 8-9 stairs from the Wert's driveway to their front door was incredibly terrifying for me. Clearly, I was going to slip through the hole between the slats and fall to my death. But, just like anything in life, one baby step at a time, and slowly I learned, I will not slip through that ridiculously small hole and fall the 2 feet to my death. That I could actually climb the stairs by feel and get to the top...safely. So, I have decided in life, I am going to baby step all my fears and face and conquer them one at a time.

Step one: HEIGHTS: am going to climb. First a wall. Then a rock...Then a mountain.

Step two: NEEDLES and PAIN: tattoo should handle this one. Seeking artist that can draw an awesome pegasus.

Step Three: LOSING CONTROL: being out of control is out of my comfort zone...Mind, body, spirit. Regaining control...

Love me.

Found a Dream Box

Still unpacking...yes, almost a year later there are a few boxes here and there that contain nothing but shit I don't need, but I will still take the time to see what treasures lie within. Today I found a small hidden box. It was covered in dust and taped shut. I opened the little box and there they were...all my dreams. Tucked away. Just waiting to be rediscovered...
Well, guess what...

Well...hello!

Clearly don't get me riled up on a topic. Since I've scared away any followers of my blog (except you hard-corers out there...yeah BW I know you're still reading) with my last entry, I thought I would continue on with the new me, chapter 2 stuff.
First of all, I need my horse back. She's been off for 6 months and its driving me crazy. I need her. I need to ride. She is a piece of the puzzle that keeps slipping out of place. Hopefully, we're on the road to recovery, and our recovery time is starting to count down.
Secondly...some people just plain piss me off. Just as my horoscope says...I love deeply and hate intensely...and my emotions are very extreme. For those of you who dare hang with me, this is frighteningly true.
If I like you...congrats. You made it to the club and unless you do something REALLY bad, you can count on me for life (I also bail out of jail no questions asked...)
Other than that...SSDD, but life is good.
Cheers!

CHAPTER 2

You may as well title this one CHAPTER 2. (Of course there have been numerous sub chapters within chapter one...)
I am me. Can I yell this any louder? Is anyone listening?!!! Clearly in the land of cotton there has been some excess that made its way into many a ear...but I've got news for you. I am me. And I am so proud of the new me. Not that I was ever a shit-taker, but I have evolved into a new, and maybe a more hardened, but more effective me. I LOVE this new me.
So, for those of you who have loved the old me...you will love this new me even more (at least most of you...there may be a few of you weaklings that can't handle it, but that's okay...survival of the fittest...good f'in luck to you...)
Love to all my followers...clearly you can handle any kind of ripple in the perfect fabric of life that is to be expected from me...and just for the record...I will always have the last word...(and really, anything after that doesn't really count anyway since I won't be listening anyway...)
CHEERS!!!!

Politics...

Oh no, don't let me get up on my soapbox. Politics...what a dirty little word. I guess I'll cut myself off there tonight before I get myself into trouble...