Now With 33% More Gadgets

If M could tear himself away from his latest book club selection, he'd love to tell you that you can now share the wit and wisdom that these Joos impart via Facebook and the like. Unfortunately, he can't, so you don't know about it. Put that it your pipe and smoke it.

P.S. The tree frog is 7 months old today. How did that happen?

This Might Be Cuter Than M

Bad Joo got a swimmering suit for her thirty thirteenth birthday. And it might be cuter than a picture of M riding a kitten on a Hallmark® card held by midget wearing fuschia knickers. For real. Even on this post partum body.

See: Lands End Canvas for details.

And they're on heavy sale. Like cheaper than Wal-Mart sale.

Love,

Bad Joo

P.S. Good Joo is still prego, still suffering, still in the USSR (or Indiana).

P.P.S. The man with the rainbow umbrella obscuring his head in the background is this Joo's part time lover.

Indiana is a Third World Country

which is why despite the G.D., gestational hypertension, kidney stones, an ongoing bladder infection, contractions, and a dilating and effacing cervix AT 32 MOTHERFUCKING WEEKS, Good Joo is still home caring for A and B and NOT, I repeat, NOT in the hospital. The infant mortality rate in third world countries is very high. Similarly, in Indiana, women still die in childbirth all the time. At 32 weeks.

For this reason, The Incision has headed down to the Fart to regulate some medical action. Look out, Fart. The Joos are pissed.




* photo courtesy of Stockvault.net

Unacceptable

Unacceptable that M has fluffier tits than his mama.
Unacceptable that M also has tree frog toes.
More unacceptable that Bad Joo's beloved rottenweiler is crippled beyond recognition.
MOST unacceptable that Good Joo's kidneys are on strike (apparently with the rottweiler's kidneys. Let's hope they went somewhere nice).

Acceptable that baby good joo is weathering the kidney tsunami okay.

This has been a red hot summer of winning, and it's only July.

Call PETA

Good Joo is switching from the third person as well. "Call PETA" was the subject on my latest email from Bad Joo. Certainly it has something to do with the abuse of the albino whale beached in a swimming pool, but I am not certain. I have given up on trying to be somewhat attractive at the neighborhood pool and have donned a bikini for the first time in a long time. I won't lie. People stare. I don't care. My stomach was so white and startling that something had to be done. It's not a good look what with the belly button scar from surgery and that damn college belly button ring, but c'est la vie. The less clothing on my body the better. I'm at the point where everything feels tight and being naked is the best bet except for the whole dealing with the husband thing. At least he thinks I'm hot. In other news A has gone from a darling 5 year old to a complete and utter asstastic 16 year old. The transformation has been incredible and traumatizing. B remains a dick and has taken to throwing things, pulling A's hair out, kicking A and only eating broccoli salad with an entire bottle of Ranch on it. I had a 3 day hospital stay for kidney stones, which is worthy of its own post. I have been told by my nutritionist to gain ONLY 1/2 lb. more this pregnancy. Obviously this caused me to laugh hysterically, spraying her with a large mouthful of Coke and Poptart crumbs. One of her many suggestions was to put cottage cheese on bread, sprinkle it with cinnamon and Splenda and then put it in the toaster oven. IT'S LIKE A DANISH! Except it's not and that is disgusting and no one owns toaster ovens anymore. Keep in mind she has a bouffant and goes to Jazzercize.

Anxiety

Good Joo has spent much of the last month being very anxious about numerous things. This isn't really anything new, but it seems to have hit GJ hard recently. Perhaps it's A getting beaten up by neighborhood kids, or A getting into the one supposedly good public school after GJ and hubby just forked over $6000 for private school. Maybe it's the drama about where to put the new baby (a girl by the by), or how plans NEVER seem to work out. Perhaps it's GJ's hubby randomly questioning "so are we gonna do it" during a serious conversation about that fact that GJ ate an ENTIRE box of Lucky Charms in 24 hours. Oh and 5 oatmeal cream pies. And a Coke. Maybe it's the fact that GJ HATES her newly reupholstered Pottery Barn chair. Hates it. Or perhaps it's the fact that GJ's basement looks like something out of Haiti. The promise that the new baby is going to ruin our current EVERYONE is sleeping through the night in their own room excitement. That GJ will have two kids in diapers. So there.

INVINCIBLE or Something Like It

Bad Joo is, as the Italians say, fragile. So fragile, that motherhood is causing her weenie little wrists to bow oot like a kid with a bad case of rickets, if rickets affected only the left wrist; and passers-by regularly offer to accompany her home to the adult foster center.

Because of this pathetic weakness, Bad Joo suffered broken wrists and all manner of other joint injuries in her youth, much to the chagrin of Good Joo. You see, Good Joo always wanted a broken arm. And a retainer. Sure, the retainer was easy enough. Watermelon Jolly Rancher? Check. Paper clip? Check. One instant retainer. The broken arm, however, was a whole other animal. And it was a much coveted animal.

Perhaps it was the golden draw of the arm sling, but for years Good Joo tried to break her arm by slamming it in car doors, bedroom doors, refrigerator doors, hitting it with a hammer, and asking people and heavy draft animals to jump upon it. This Joo is not making this shit up, except maybe the part aboot the beasts of burden. And the amazing thing is that IT NEVER WORKED. She never broke a mother fuceing thing.

And so, this Joo reminds that Joo that despite the fact that this pregnancy is wearing her like a bad suit, she will get through it. She's strong like that. INVINCIBLE EVEN. Or something like it.