Today we're going to go see THE house: a seven-bedroom brick beauty built in 1896 with shutters and fireplaces, a fenced-in yard, three-and-a-half freaking BATHROOMS, mature and well-cared-for trees and about eight blocks from Lake Michigan. I'm on pins and needles with excitement.
The gorgeous thing is only listed at about a third what you'd think it's worth because it's got crappy carpeting all over and some other minor TLC issues, and it's been used temporarily as a group home. Frankly, I don't give a high-flying crap if it's haunted with the ghosts of seven murdering pirates, damnit! I want that house!
So anyway, I'm taking a (ahem) break from the morning crap while Jeff is out doing a photo shoot for a client (what he don't know won't hurt him, HA!). I still gotta get off my rear end and pack for the beach and dress the kids. Aw shup, it's freaking Saturday, who's that anal?!?
I think I have enough bathing suits to clothe a third-world country. So I'm pawing around the dresser, griping about how I look in them (the same ones I thought were sooo hot in the store, of course)and decide to try on a bikini. Mind you, this in itself is a massive act of sheer bravado, since this past winter was pretty bad (as fibromyalgia symptoms go) and most of my muscles are deconditioned. But I was having a "fuck it" moment.
I LOOK FREAKING HOT!!!!!
As funny as it was, Kim... There are advantages to being a MILF! Okay, not in the Jackson-perverted-sick-fucker way. But I look pretty darn good for five kids, and so does Kim, I might add. (Did I mention Jeff wants another one?? Freak.)
Speaking of Kim (who's the whore, now, huh??), her blog is hysterical! I kept my poor husband-to-be up until 3am reading her stuff. We both laughed so hard we were in tears. I swear to God I'm related to that chick, we have so much in common.
Kim, if you wanna see freaky weather you have to come to Wisconsin. I'll have a cocktail waiting for ya.