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From Beer to Maternity Quotes
From Beer to Maternity
by
Maggie Lamond Simone28 ratings, 3.79 average rating, 11 reviews
From Beer to Maternity Quotes
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“My body has a mind of its own. Apparently it thinks that “new year” is synonymous with “exercise program,” and has been attempting to coerce me into one. Right. Like shifting from one side of the couch to the other isn’t work.
“Hey! What about ME?” it asked. “Hello! Down here! The attachment to your neck that is beginning to resemble a marshmallow? Remember? When are we going to join a gym? A girl your age has a lot more than just a reputation to uphold, you know - your butt springs to mind! So when’s it going to be? Huh? Huh?”
“Hmmm,” I answered thoughtfully. “How about never? Is never good for you?”
“Yeah, ya big coward. That’s the thanks I get for silently squeezing into those jeans all these months? I knew you were a weenie.”
“I have a black belt, I’ll have you know!” I retorted. “You might want to show a little respect! There was a day when the only ripples on my body were the ones defining my abdomen!”
“‘Ooh, look at me, I’m a martial artist!’ Well, Jean-Claude Van Flab, let’s invite reality in for some tea, shall we? That day was FOUR YEARS AGO. Those laurels you’re resting on are becoming a little more than figurative. People are gonna start calling you ‘Baggie’!”
“My, but you’ve gotten cocky in your old age,” I responded, “considering I’M STILL THE BOSS. I own you. You’re mine.”
“Gee, boss, I hate to shatter your delusions of adequacy,” it shot back, “but your employee is revolting - and you can take THAT any way you want.”
I looked down and sighed. It had a point.”
― From Beer to Maternity
“Hey! What about ME?” it asked. “Hello! Down here! The attachment to your neck that is beginning to resemble a marshmallow? Remember? When are we going to join a gym? A girl your age has a lot more than just a reputation to uphold, you know - your butt springs to mind! So when’s it going to be? Huh? Huh?”
“Hmmm,” I answered thoughtfully. “How about never? Is never good for you?”
“Yeah, ya big coward. That’s the thanks I get for silently squeezing into those jeans all these months? I knew you were a weenie.”
“I have a black belt, I’ll have you know!” I retorted. “You might want to show a little respect! There was a day when the only ripples on my body were the ones defining my abdomen!”
“‘Ooh, look at me, I’m a martial artist!’ Well, Jean-Claude Van Flab, let’s invite reality in for some tea, shall we? That day was FOUR YEARS AGO. Those laurels you’re resting on are becoming a little more than figurative. People are gonna start calling you ‘Baggie’!”
“My, but you’ve gotten cocky in your old age,” I responded, “considering I’M STILL THE BOSS. I own you. You’re mine.”
“Gee, boss, I hate to shatter your delusions of adequacy,” it shot back, “but your employee is revolting - and you can take THAT any way you want.”
I looked down and sighed. It had a point.”
― From Beer to Maternity
“Let me begin by saying that no, I am not crazy. I had no intention of initiating this little trauma with one child while giving birth to another. In fact, I was thinking middle school was probably a good target for the whole process. But he, apparently, had other plans.
"I go potty!" he said. We were standing at the sink brushing our teeth.
"What?" I asked, looking around to see if there was someone else in the room.
"I go potty!" he said again. He got down from his little stepstool and stood adamantly before the toilet.
"Well, OK, little guy," I replied, hesitantly, "I mean, sure, if that's what you want to do . . . "
I certainly couldn't discourage him without being the focus of therapy for years to come. And besides, what kind of mother says, "No, honey, I'd really rather you stayed in diapers until you're old enough to date"? I dutifully took off his diaper and pants, popped in his little potty seat, and lifted him up.
"All done!" he squealed with delight.
"What?" I practically screamed. "What do you mean, all done? You haven't been up there ten seconds!"
"All done!" he said again, and started to hop down. He stood there in the middle of the bathroom, looking very proud of himself, and proceeded to pee on the floor. OK, I said to myself. It's just going to take some time.
"Good job, honey! Nice try! We'll get 'em next time!" I said cheerfully. I then put a clean diaper on him, put his pants back on, cleaned up the floor, and started down the stairs.
"I go potty!" he called after me. "I go potty again!”
― From Beer to Maternity
"I go potty!" he said. We were standing at the sink brushing our teeth.
"What?" I asked, looking around to see if there was someone else in the room.
"I go potty!" he said again. He got down from his little stepstool and stood adamantly before the toilet.
"Well, OK, little guy," I replied, hesitantly, "I mean, sure, if that's what you want to do . . . "
I certainly couldn't discourage him without being the focus of therapy for years to come. And besides, what kind of mother says, "No, honey, I'd really rather you stayed in diapers until you're old enough to date"? I dutifully took off his diaper and pants, popped in his little potty seat, and lifted him up.
"All done!" he squealed with delight.
"What?" I practically screamed. "What do you mean, all done? You haven't been up there ten seconds!"
"All done!" he said again, and started to hop down. He stood there in the middle of the bathroom, looking very proud of himself, and proceeded to pee on the floor. OK, I said to myself. It's just going to take some time.
"Good job, honey! Nice try! We'll get 'em next time!" I said cheerfully. I then put a clean diaper on him, put his pants back on, cleaned up the floor, and started down the stairs.
"I go potty!" he called after me. "I go potty again!”
― From Beer to Maternity
“I was going through The Box the other day, the one that's moved with me since college containing all of my important stuff, and I found some old letters and cards from relationships gone by. As I read them I got all misty and nostalgic, and suddenly I realized something for the first time in the month I've been married.
I can no longer date.
I shared this revelation with my husband, asking, "Did you know this? That you can't date anyone else? Ever? For the rest of your life?" He laughed and replied, "Well, yes, I did." He paused. "You didn't?"
"Of course I did . . . theoretically," I said, " but I guess the reality didn't hit me until now. I mean, our vows didn't specifically say 'No More Dating Other People.'"
He kind of glared at me this time. "It's implied."
OK, fine. I don't want to date anyone else anyway. It's just hard sometimes to let go of the past, and the older I get, the more past I have to let go of. But since I've always found it helpful to bare my soul to complete strangers, I will take this opportunity to give my deceased dating life a decent burial.”
― From Beer to Maternity
I can no longer date.
I shared this revelation with my husband, asking, "Did you know this? That you can't date anyone else? Ever? For the rest of your life?" He laughed and replied, "Well, yes, I did." He paused. "You didn't?"
"Of course I did . . . theoretically," I said, " but I guess the reality didn't hit me until now. I mean, our vows didn't specifically say 'No More Dating Other People.'"
He kind of glared at me this time. "It's implied."
OK, fine. I don't want to date anyone else anyway. It's just hard sometimes to let go of the past, and the older I get, the more past I have to let go of. But since I've always found it helpful to bare my soul to complete strangers, I will take this opportunity to give my deceased dating life a decent burial.”
― From Beer to Maternity
“In the 15 years since its inception, the column has documented my days of being single and alone for the first time, reentering the dating world as a sober person, dating, getting engaged, getting married, getting pregnant, having kids, and finding my life again after all of that. Sometimes it’s funny, sometimes not. Sometimes the not-so-funny things are important too.
What it is, though, is honest. My column has allowed me to show people – at whatever stage they’re at in life – that they don’t have to be perfect to be OK. There are no books on “What to Expect When Your Boyfriend Leaves You For His High School Crush,” or “What to Expect When Your Child Takes a Year to Potty Train.” But that doesn’t mean people don’t need to know that this stuff happens.
And more importantly, that they can survive when it does. Sometimes even laughing.”
― From Beer to Maternity
What it is, though, is honest. My column has allowed me to show people – at whatever stage they’re at in life – that they don’t have to be perfect to be OK. There are no books on “What to Expect When Your Boyfriend Leaves You For His High School Crush,” or “What to Expect When Your Child Takes a Year to Potty Train.” But that doesn’t mean people don’t need to know that this stuff happens.
And more importantly, that they can survive when it does. Sometimes even laughing.”
― From Beer to Maternity
