This week's post follows the adage that a picture is worth a thousand words.

We learned that Walter the alligator does not scare away bees. In fact, bees might actually enjoy his company. Seriously, Walter this is disappointing.

We learned that if the lifeguard is in a sweatshirt and covered in a towel, you'll likely have the pool to yourself if you tough out the wind chill.

We learned that some kids are good at panhandling. When a scrawny little six year old asked me if he could get a snack at the snack bar for $3.00 I told him he sure could. Then he proceeded to tell me he forgot his money at home and could I give him $3.00.

We learned that getting large wings tattooed on your back will not increase your chances of being able to fly.

And finally, we learned that when others dress like this it only makes the rest of us look better. Look out People of Walmart...here comes the People of the Pool.



photo credit source

My gynecologist makes me laugh.

She's easy to talk to and answers all my questions.  She never rushes me along.

Today I learned that your blood pressure can be 114/68 and you can still be alive.  Seems really low to me but as discussed previously I am not a doctor

I learned that it's much easier to speak at career day if you are a lunchlady and not a gynecologist.

I verified that sadly your breasts do stop growing and I can finally put to rest that dream of a slightly larger cup size.

I learned that like the post office when they ask you if you are mailing anything hazardous, harmful or potentially dangerous, my doctor asks if there is anything else she should know about before she begins the exam.  Um...like??  Any new tattoos or piercings?  Seriously?  Does that happen a lot?

I learned that the chances of getting the handicap exam room are one out of three yet I've never been in any other room.  Coincidence or intentional?

I learned that doctor coats intentially have big holes in the sides of them so you can put your hands in your pants pockets.  Wouldn't it just be easier to put pockets in the coat?

I learned that I can personalize the above picture and give it as a gift.  Anyone else find that odd?  I mean they have a gynecologist and not a lunchlady.  You know you want to click the source link.

I laughed through the entire visit and just like at the pediatrician's office I left with a price--a pink slip for my very first mammogram.

Just imagine what I'll learn there!

In keeping with my summer goals, we are decluttering on Tuesday because Wednesday is garbage day.

Today I got rid of two bags of kids clothes, three bags of garbage, cleaned out the kids bathroom sink drawers and under the sink. That was crazy. The most unusual item...about 20 rocks. My son is gonna be pissed when he looks for them.

They are gone!

We've been hauling this gator back and forth to the pool forever. Today I thought he should get out of the swim bag and enjoy the sun.

He needs a name. Any suggestions?

My son has fallin in love with the picshop app for the iPad. He made the above photo of our beagle. He may hate bunnies, but he wouldn't know how to hunt and catch one if his life depended on it.

This week I was only poolside sporadically.  The week started out with crappy cool weather, becoming unbearable by Wednesday and Thursday, and returning to random crappy thunderstorms by today.

We took a day away from the public pool and spent it at my friends backyard oasis, which was fan.tas.tic.

Here's what I learned.

Timeout?  I've put my kids in time out at the pool.  I've seen other's put their kids in time out.  This week, while walking to the bathroom I saw a mom in time out.  I can only guess she put herself in time out.  She had her chair facing the fence and was reading a book.  Um...the view isn't even good, but I guess she was just fed up with looking the other way. 

If everyone knows the code, well it's no longer a code.  My daughter has reached the wonderful age of waredrobe malfunctions.  Since having your breast fall out of your suit at the pool, is uber embarrassing we decided to simply say flamingo.  However, seems everyone a lot of people now know the code.  My daughter said, "If everyone one knows the code, you might as well scream breast."  She has a point.

Behave like there IS a lifeguard on duty.  Our kids were like monkeys let loose at the zoo when we went to our friend's pool instead of the public pool.  They were taking innertubes down the slide, stopping mid slide, and just acting ridiculous on the dive.  Needless to say, we can't wait to go back.  Here's hoping we're still welcome (*wink*)

Just because they make it.  I'm pretty sure we covered this last year, but it needs to be reiterated.  Just because the swimsuit comes in your size, doesn't mean you should wear it. 

Tripping sucks.  Tripping and releasing your flamingo, sucks even more.  What is the appropriate response when a woman trips up the steps getting out of the pool right in front of you and her breast tumbles out of her top.  Yelling flamingo doesn't help.  Turns out... not everyone knows the code.

What did you learn this week?

My son plays baseball in an 8-10 league. He has really improved this year as he seems to actually understand the game.

The boys on our team range from ages 6-9 and fielding is challenging. I think it's cute and I usually don't care if we lose as long as we try our best.

Some parents do not agree with my sentiment.

Opposing team parents have yelled things like "Drop it" while a 7 year old is trying to make a catch.

Parents on our own team have told their own child, who was proud of his first attempt at catching, that catching one out of 99 throws is a terrible satistic.

Saying one nice thing out of every hundred things you say is also a terrible satistic.

Opposing coaches have taken multiple bases on errors. Really? There's a five-runs-an-inning mercy rule. Do you really need to advance on an error?

Parents have suggested benching 7 year olds who aren't paying attention. Um...you can't be serious.

I don't think my son notices these things and for that I am grateful. He feels bad enough when he strikes out without any added input from us.

He is proud when he gets an out and when he overthrows first base we tell him that was a great try.

Baseball ends this week and I'm sort of glad. Not because I don't enjoy watching him play, but because I just can't bite my tongue any longer.

Today I met a friend for lunch and I made two grave mistakes. First mistake. I brought my kids. Second mistake: I forgot to ask for crack free seating.

Here's a small snippet of our lunch.

Before my friend arrives my kids are physically hurting each other over a quarter. Turns out Little G brought a quarter in because he thought there would be a gum ball machine. There wasn't a gum ball machine so he decided to give the quarter to his sister. Then we turned the corner and there was a claw machine. Oh sweet mother. Now HE WANTS THE QUARTER BACK. Big G isn't having it. It's clearly not fair.

I take the quarter, which they probably took from my car to begin with.

The waitress comes and takes our order. She talks faster than an auctioneer on his third red bull. My son is upset because he forgot to order corn. Oldest G is trying to explain that he only gets one side and he picked fries. To which he starts crying, "but I wanted corn."

My kids have nothing to say to me unless I am speaking to someone else. Then they want to tell me about the salt spilling, the quarter Middle G found on the floor, the hole they just found in their pants. ANYTHING TO INTERRUPT...repeatedly.

Just as I begin to understand why some animals each their young, our food arrives. I order corn for little G and say to the waitress that "I think I was supposed to get fries."

To which she replies, "No. You got a salad instead."

To which I replied. "I'm pretty sure I ordered a sandwich and fries and asked you if I could have the salad instead of the soup."

Waitress: "There is only one side. You ordered a salad."

Oldest G rolls her eyes at me as if to say I just got done telling Little G this.

Me: "OK. No big deal my kids will probably have a lot left over."

I figured that was that and started eating. Then said waitress returned with the menu to prove she wasn't "ripping me off". Seriously?

She shows me the ultimate grilled cheese and soup listing and says that it clearly means I get the sandwich and the salad. I pointed to the small print at the top that said "all wraps and sandwiches served with fries."

Waitress: "All sandwiches except this one. This one has soup."

Me: "Okay. It really isn't a big deal."

Five minutes later....

She returns with corn and a F**KING oder of French fries.

Waitress: "I spoke to the manager and he said you're right and I'm wrong so I went ahead and got your fries. I have been working here for eight years and THEY KEEP CHANGING THE MENU. I mean it's hard to keep it all straight you know. I just want you to know that I am not ripping you off. I'm not...okay."

Slightly frightened and concerned that she is indeed ripping me off, I said, "Okay. It's not really that big of a deal."

By the time ice cream ordering came around she was a mess. Insisting that I couldn't have just two scoops in my sundae. That if I did, she would have to charge me extra for the toppings. That I had to have three scoops or pay for each squirt of topping. Why would it cost more to get less?

It was bizzare. It was as if she couldn't possibly grasp the concept that I was the customer and could have any damn thing I wanted.

The kids spent the entire lunch interrupting me, tossing their trash around, touching each other when asked not to and hiding their chicken in their sauces.

"Why was that waitress so weird," asked Middle G when we got to the car. I was surprised she noticed.

"I don't know," I said, "Drugs, bad meds, too many misbehaving children at her tables. It's hard to say."

"Maybe she just likes to be right," said Middle G. "Everyone likes that."

Truer words may never have been spoken.