I am Michelle D. Carter

Underwear, butt covers, Granny panties, the trunk for your junk and the thong. Yes… the thong. I was first introduced to the thong in Vegas. I took a long weekend trip with a couple of girlfriends in December of 1994 (or there about). Both of the skinny bitches wore thongs and tried to convince me to wear one.

I’m a typical pear shape. Oh hell, I have a huge ass. There’s no need to sugar coat it. Me, wearing a thong, is like a tiny valley in the Himalaya Mountains.

They finally convinced me to give it a try. I figured if I was going to do it, Vegas was the place. Off we tromped to Victoria Secret’s. Thank goodness I was shopping with thong experts. The most important advice in buying thong underwear… lace should NOT be the piece of fabric that runs in the valley. Too itchy for that area.

After a few hours, I hardly noticed the constant wedgy!! But alas, I was sold. My underwear usually rode up anyway. So the no panty lines were an added bonus.

When I became pregnant with my daughter, I continued to wear thongs. They actually make pregnancy thong underwear!!! That should have been my invention! I would so be rich right now.

The other night I’m getting ready for bed and Alyssa comes in. She asks me a question (the details escape me). There is a long silence and I can feel her eyes staring at my butt. After she gets over the horror of trying to figure the thong out she asks, “Umm, Mom, do you like your underwear going up your butt?”

A couple weeks ago I was trying on some pants in a dressing room. I took Alex with me while Alyssa and Andy stayed with Tim. Separating them helps control the chaos. I could feel Alex’s eyes on my butt. I thought he’d move on to making the room a jungle gym but no… The curiosity got the best of him. He tried to pull my cheeks apart to see just exactly what the heck happened to that little strip of fabric. It’s not supposed to go in there Mom!

How is it that a decision you made years ago can come back to haunt you? Kids, that’s how!!!

Have a happy Thanksgiving and keep your butts covered.

Before I share Tim’s response on whether we should get Alex tested, I’m going to give you some background. Tim is an extremely smart individual. He is a member of Mensa. Mensa is the largest, oldest and best know high IQ society in the world. It is an organization open to people who score in the 98^th percentile or higher on a standardized intelligence test. He has more letters behind his name than he has in his name. He is a Chartered Life Underwriter, Chartered Financial Consultant, Certified Financial Planner and Certified Advisor for Senior Living. Let me introduce you to my husband, Timothy Carter, CLU, ChFC, CFP, CASL.

To top it all off, he hardly studied for all of the tests. The night before the exam he would study, take the exam, and then pass. During the time he was getting all his letters, I was studying for my CPA (Certified Public Accountant) exam. I would study for months in advance and still wouldn’t pass. I was persistent and eventually did pass the CPA exam. It would frustrate me how easy things came for Tim.

A few days before one of the CPA exams, Tim got the opportunity to go to a Jimmy Buffet concert. He went and left me home all by myself to study. I was so mad at him. He was out having a great time and I was stuck at home. He gets home from the concert and tells me how incredibly great it was. Only pissing me off more. If I was half as smart as he was, I would have passed it by then and I could have been the one out having a great time. That must have been the determining factor because that was the exam I finally passed.

Tim was in his mid-30’s when he discovered his above average IQ. He was traveling a lot with his job. He was good having good luck with Mensa quizzes at the back of the in-flight magazine and decided to sit for the exam.

Ironically, Tim flunked out of college at the end of his freshman year with a 0.9 GPA. Thanks to junior college and a transfer to another 4-year university, he was able to graduate with a 2.34 GPA. About the same time he joined Mensa, he was diagnosed with ADHD. When he pieced the two of them together, he was able to explain why someone with a high IQ made average grades in school. Self-discovery can be fun and frustrating at the same time.

Anyway, back to Alex. Here are Tim’s thoughts on getting Alex tested:

Do you really want an answer?? All you need to do is have someone give him an intelligence test. I’m certain we can find one on-line. I believe Dr. Rahman can set him up for one. Apparently my parents knew I had a high IQ and never said anything to me about it. They always seemed to have high expectations, but never came out and said anything. I never heard, you’re smarter than 99% of the people out there, you shouldn’t have any problem passing this English class. Part of me is frustrated because I’ve wasted a gift and the other part is glad I didn’t have the pressure to live up to “genius-level” expectations. Do we want to know how smart he is so we make him live up to preconceived notions of success for someone of his intelligence or do we want him to be the best he can be, regardless of his IQ?  What about our other children? How would they feel if they knew you felt Alex was going to be the successful one? Because you feel this way, will it become a self-fulfilling prophecy? Will Alyssa return from rehab and blame us for the failures in her life because we didn’t expect her to be as successful as her brother, Alex. Maybe all of this goes back to my love of surprises. I didn’t want to know the sex of our unborn children. As strange as it sounds, I didn’t secretly want “it” to be a boy or a girl. I just wanted a healthy baby. In fact, I still feel this way. I don’t have a desire for our kids to be “anything,” except healthy and happy being themselves.

I want the absolute best for my kids, all of them. What parent doesn’t?! I probably won’t have Alex tested. Not at this point anyway. I will; however, continue to push him, as well as Alyssa and Andy to achieve success. The definition of success – I will let them define success for themselves. I want them to enjoy life and what they do. I will support them in all their endeavors.  

The story begins…

A girl runs off the bus towards her Mom yelling, “Mom, it’s worst thing that could have happened. It’s so horrible. I can’t believe it.”

“It’s just so terrible… Alyssa’s brother went home sick today. We’ve been planning a sleep over for weeks and now it’s ruined.”

Obviously you can see just how tragic life truly is for eight-year-old girls!

Meanwhile… I was in Ft. Lauderdale for a job interview. I flew in Wednesday evening. Rick picked me up Thursday morning for the interview. We spent barely two hours together (that includes the travel time in his BMW). He had been traveling and couldn’t take me to lunch. Umm… OK, I guess I’ll just go to the airport and sit for the next FOUR AND A HALF HOURS. You spent how much to get me out here for two hours and you can’t take me to lunch?

My flight didn’t leave until 4:00 pm and there wasn’t anything earlier. Well, there was, but it wasn’t direct, would cost me $100 and would only get me back to Kansas City 45 minutes earlier. Now we are talking calamity!

During one of the most enjoyable moments in the airport terminal, Tim calls to tell me he’s headed to pick up Andy. The school nurse called and he just threw up. Apparently there is a virus running rampant. More misfortune.

Back to the true catastrophe… the Mom from above calls me. She doesn’t want her daughter to spend the night at our house and risk getting sick. The audacity!!! Alyssa will be spending the night at their house instead.

Don’t you wish everything was that easy to solve?!!

At what age can you have your child tested to determine IQ? I’ve already mentioned here that Alex is my most difficult child, yet I also think he is most likely to be very successful. I think that because he’s my most difficult child is why he’ll be successful. I think he gets bored and pushes the envelop. Now I know a lot of you are sitting there thinking she’s lost it. Maybe I have. But what if I haven’t? What if I’m really on to something? How would I go about testing him? Should I get him tested?

I’ve convinced him that women are smarter than men. The other night he asked me if Santa knows everything. I love this time of year when I can blackmail my kids behavior with Santa won’t visit if… I, of course, told him that he did.

He looked at me very matter of fact and said, “No, Mom, he doesn’t. Remember only girls know.”

I did the only appropriate thing a Mother could do, “Well, he has Mrs. Claus to help him.”

After all the fun and games, I decided that if I truly want him to excel, I needed to tell him that boys are smart too. Here’s how it went:

Me: “Alex, did you know boys could be smart?”

Alex: “No.”

Me: “Well they can. They can be very smart. You’re a boy and you’re very smart. Did you know that?”

Alex: “Yes.”

Me: “Good! And because you are so smart you can be anything you want when you grow up. Do you know what you want to be?”

Alex: “A counter.”

Me: “Mommy’s a counter (accountant) and she doesn’t like it.” Translated this means I have high hopes for you kid, don’t mess it up.

Tim: “Alex, if you want to be a counter, you can be a counter.”

I think my reluctance is because I’m trying to change careers and am having a difficult time doing so. I know the job I want (medical sales), but I can’t get a call back from those companies. I know times are tough but it is so frustrating!!

I have big aspirations for Alex. I keep pushing him towards being a doctor. However, after he watched a little bit of Grey’s Anatomy with me last week, I don’t know if he can handle being a doctor. Whatever you decide to be, Alex, just be happy doing it.

So, seriously, should I get him tested?? What are your thoughts? I’m curious. 

Tim and I worked on the house yesterday. Yep, more siding. You can feel my excitement can’t you?!! Tim decided that since the weather was suppose to be somewhat warm today, he would take the day off to finish the side we started.

At 6:45, the alarm blasts both of us out of bed. This was the alarm on his phone. He was out of town last week and forgot to shut it off. We don’t set an alarm at home so I scared me. My arms go flying and I accidently whack him up side the head. It really was an accident!!

He then tells me he woke up around 4:00 and went downstairs and watched some TV. Around 5:15, he was awakened by a phlatttt!

“So the dog shit on the floor?”

“Yes.”

“Ya know, I did give her Alyssa’s leftover sandwich yesterday.”

“So, it’s your fault.”

“Umm, did you get it cleaned up?”

“YES!”

“I guess I should have asked that before I confessed to being the culprit.”

He’s off to a great Monday morning! I’d better go help him with the house now… who knows what will happen with that!

Yes, I’m talking about re-siding the house. Have I ever told you just how HUGE this project is??? Oh yeah, I guess I did here.

Keeping with Murphy’s Law, if anything can go wrong, it will! Especially with us!!

When removing the basement windows (this is the boarded up portion in this picture), the wood was so brittle, and it just flaked off. Living inside, yes, inside the wood were slugs. The soft, slimy bodies of slugs are prone to desiccation (extreme dryness), so they are confined to moist environments and are forced to retreat to damp hiding places when the weather is dry. Unbelievable!! There wasn’t any flashing above the windows? Gee, I wonder why it’s falling apart.

We had a couple warm days last week. Tim wanted to finish trimming the windows on the back of the house. It’s his goal to get one side completely finished at a time so it doesn’t look like everything is half done. This required him to remove the old trim. While attempting this delicate task, he broke not one but two of our double paned windows. He decided to stop at that point and not break the last one. Good plan!

So speaking of things we weren’t planning on fixing, did I mention our soffit is rotten too? Good gravy, how in the hell did this house ever pass inspection???

Doing my part to contribute… I decided to haul the siding to the basement and paint it. It was heavier than I thought. Check out the nice bruise on my arm. Pretty, isn’t it?!! It hurts, hurts bad!! After it was painted, I tried stacking it on top of each other so I’d have more room. However, the paint stuck in some places and pulled it off in other places. Re-painted those. Obviously the stacking wasn’t a good idea. I now have every possible inch of the basement covered with siding. In my attempt to fit as much siding in as I could by moving it around like a huge puzzle, I managed to break three of the boards. There’s that Murphy’s Law again!

No one wants this project done more than Tim and I. Sunday is supposed to be a nice day. If you are in the area and want to come help, we’ll gladly take it. We’ll see you then!!

Is it girlie for boys to have their toenails painted? What if the name of the polish is Girlie or Totally Tangerine? And what does it mean to be girlie anyway?

I like to have my toenails painted. It is something that I regularly do for myself. I try to hide from the kids when I’m giving myself a pedicure otherwise everyone wants their nails done. By everyone, I mean Alyssa, Alex and Andy. And yes, sometimes Tim. OK, I’m kidding about Tim or am I?

A few days ago I was unsuccessful in concealing myself from the boys. They begged and pleaded, “Mom, would you, please, paint my nails?”

“No.”

“Please, Mom. Why did you paint Alyssa’s?”

“Guys, boys don’t usually get their nails painted.”

“But you’ve done it before.”

BUSTED! I finally agreed to paint them. They wear socks and shoes to school so no one will see them anyway. Although, there was this time several months ago that Alex had to take off his socks and shoes to show his teacher his beautifully painted toenails.

I know some men that would throw an absolute fit about having their son’s toenails painted because of the stigmatism that is associated with painted nails. I’m quite sure that there isn’t some mysterious substance in nail polish that turns you into a girl or makes you gay for that matter.

Like all kids, the boys aspire to be like their parents, at least while they are young anyway. Since I am the primary caretaker, the boys want to be just like me. And that means having painted toenails, like Mom. So sometimes I break down and just do it. It truly isn’t worth the argument and gives us an opportunity to spend a little time together.  

I don’t worry about what other people think about my boys having painted toes. I do worry about them being teased and taunted about something very innocent. A pedicure is a nice luxury for me. I just don’t want it to be a continual chore for me. That’s why I don’t paint their nails all the time.

Are little white lies OK? What about big elaborate lies… to your kids?? Are they OK if they don’t hurt them?? And it’s to protect yourself? I think they are OK. Therefore, I must be a bad, bad Mommy!

Since Kindergarten is only half a day, the boys go to Kids Country in the afternoon. Kids Country is more less a daycare. This is a recent change. We have been contributing to a 125 Plan. Basically we put money away before taxes to pay for daycare. So, to get our money back, we have enrolled the boys.

The boys go to another room in the school until 4:00 when school dismisses and they ride the bus home with their sister. On Monday, there wasn’t any school. I found out on Friday that those (no school) days are included in what we pay for Kids Country. S-W-W-E-E-E-T!!!! If it’s paid for, they are going. Added bonus: I don’t have to play referee all day.

Alyssa’s not in Kids Country, so she stayed home with me. I just knew the boys would throw a fit. Why does Alyssa get to stay home? I want to stay home. It’s not fair. Please, Mom, I promise I’ll be good. Whine, whine, whine.

How am I going to get out of this? I know, I’ll just tell them that Alyssa’s going to a different daycare. Yeah, that’s it. And I’ll have her carry her empty lunch box. Yeah, that will work. I told you I was a bad Mommy!

Guess what they said… NOTHING! Not a damn thing! I was all prepared, props and everything. I didn’t have to lie; maybe I’m not so bad. Oh yes I am! I was prepared and would have used it to the fullest extent if I had to.

Feeling extremely guilty, I decided to pick them up somewhat early. When we arrived home, they figured out Alyssa had been home and that she got to go to McDonald’s. Why did Alyssa stay home? Why did she go to McDonald’s? I want to go to McDonald’s. Take me to McDonald’s right now. Whine, whine, whine.

I THOUGHT I was in the clear. I was not prepared. Alyssa was! She told them, “Boys, you guys used to get to go a lot of places while I was in school. Now I got to go somewhere and you didn’t. Now you know how it feels.”

Good point! “Yeah, what your sister said!!”

“But Mom…”

“Don’t but Mom me; we are finished with this discussion.”

Whine, whine, whine.

Note to self: Next time, don’t leave any self-incriminating evidence!

It couldn’t have happened better if I had planned it!

Saturday evening Alyssa was at a friend’s house. Tim, the boys and I are lying on the floor watching TV. I don’t even remember the question Alex asked, nor do I remember Tim’s response. But after a short silence, Alex announces, “Dad, you don’t know, only Moms do!”

I laughed so hard I cried!

Tim says: “It’s not that funny.”

Me: “Are you kidding me? Do you know how many times a day I get asked, ‘how do you know?’ I always tell them because I’m the Mom and Moms are smart. They DO hear me.”

Awe, but today is a special day. So I need to make an effort to be nice. Today is Tim’s birthday. Hey Tim, did you know your birthday is on Veteran’s Day?

Tim: “Just the last 42 of ‘em.”

Of course you know!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY Timmy, I LOVE YOU!!

On Wednesday evenings, Alyssa has karate practice. She has wanted to do karate and I found a program that I LOVE!! It is through Young Champions. If you have one in your area, I highly recommend them. They focus on STRANGER DANGER and how to defend yourself. Instead of yelling the typical hee-yah, the kids are encouraged to say you’re not my parent. At the end of class all the kids raise their hand as if they are being sworn into court and repeat after the instructor: I will respect my parents, I will listen to my teachers and I will not mis-use my karate.

This past Wednesday Tim took Alyssa. She wanted her Dad to go so he could be a parent helper.

When they arrive home, Tim announces that the boys need to go find something to do and the rest of us need to sit at the table.

Me: “Is this a family meeting? I HATE family meetings. We always did this when I was a kid and it usually meant someone was in some serious trouble.” I think for me it was more the uncertainty and not knowing if my parents had learned something about me that they didn’t approve of – like sneaking out of the house at night or drinking alcohol.

Tim: “Yes!”

My mind starts racing: Crap, what did I do now?!! I didn’t sneak out but I did have a drink. Oh wait, I’m the adult now, I can’t be the one in trouble this time.

Tim continued: “Alyssa, you’ve been asking about a uniform and tournament. I talked to the lady tonight and she said that tournament is a really crazy time and since you haven’t been doing it that long it’s probably best if you just go watch this time to see what it is all about.”

Alyssa: “Umm, OK, what about a uniform?”

Me: “Well, sweetie, we haven’t bought a uniform yet because we just started and want to see if this is something you want to continue doing. How about we keep going through Christmas, and then if you still want to continue, we’ll get you your uniform then?”

Alyssa: “OK, that sounds good. But Dad, why didn’t you help tonight?” Tears fill her eyes and stream down her cheeks.

I look at Tim: “Why didn’t you help tonight?”

Alyssa: “He was on the phone.”

Me: “WHAT?! The whole reason you went tonight was so you could be a parent helper. Can’t you leave your phone alone long enough to spend some time with your daughter? You know, they call it a Crack Berry for a reason. Now look what you’ve done!”

Tim: “I never heard them ask for volunteers, people just started walking towards the front.”

Me: “That should have been your first clue.”

Tim: “Wait, how many times has Mommy been a parent helper?”

Alyssa: “None.”

Tim: “Then why are you getting so mad at me?”

Me: “Umm, we are talking about YOU not me. Don’t throw me under the bus.”

Alyssa: “I’m going to my room.”

Me: “Nice, Tim.”

Feeling incredibly guilty (as he should), Tim runs to the computer to look up the tournament information.

Fast forward to Thursday after school, the kids come home and immediately turn on the TV. They want to turn on a show (saved on the DVR) that they had watched that morning before school. How did we ever survive without DVR before? Anyway, when Tim set up the recording, he only saved the last three episodes. Therefore, the show from the morning wasn’t there now. Yep, I threw Tim under the bus (after all, turn about is fair play) and told the kids it was Dad’s fault because he didn’t set up the recording properly.

I was getting ready to call Tim to warn him. Then I hear Alex: “Dad, why didn’t you record the show… we wanted to watch the ghost one and now it’s not there.”

Me: “Alex, are you talking to Daddy?”

Alex, “Yes.”

Me: “Can I talk to him?”

He brings me the phone: “I was just getting ready to call you and tell you not to bother coming home tonight. Between this and the karate thing, your name is mud around here.”

Tim: “I guess.”

Me: “Well, if you wouldn’t mess up their lives so much, maybe you’d have a chance.”

Tim: “Can I come home after they go to bed?”

Me: “I suppose, as long as you are gone before they get up in the morning.”

Tim: “Good point. I’ll see you later.”

Me: “Okey dokie. Love you.”

Tim: “Love you too.”