It's official: Summer is here, the D-bag isn't

The Bachelorette is beyond easy this week: FINALLY, Jillian wakes up and realizes that Wes is a totally fame-seeking-fashion-senseless-douche. He had to actually kick her in the face for her to figure it out, but at long last, she did. Bye, bye partner! Bad part is that now I am in love with two men who are decidedly not my husband (Kypton and Reid; sorry Ed, just not feeling you in spite of your cuteness). It's gonna be a hard break up (for me, who really cares about Jillian).

On to more important stuff, you know, stuff about me (and the dudes, let's not forget the dudes!):).

We have officially begun our annual summer marking activity.

Taking swimming lessons.

This is #3s first year, but #1 and #2 are old pros.

I was so excited to not be the mom to the moaning-wailing-separation-anxiety-crippled-non-compliant-preschooler who was refusing to even put one toe in the water, that I almost literally cried.

Because that was me last year.

#2 was so anti-swim lessons that it wasn't even funny.

He wouldn't even let the instructor (bless her 15 year old lack of experience with children heart) touch him without letting out this blood curdling velociraptor scream.

He wouldn't leave the steps. He wouldn't get his face wet, and if I had the gall, the audacity to suggest that he just give it a try, we would scream no in his loudest, scariest, I-will-cut-you-if-you-take-another-step voice.

Embarrassing, yes.

Did I give up? Hell to the no.

We went every. Single. Day we paid for.

He sat on the side and was largely ignored by me and many of the instructors (pretty sure they were afraid of him).

We didn't force him, but we didn't let him quit all together, either.

Figured it was a learning experience for him and I flippin' paid for it, so he was goin'.

This year, they all got in without incident.

He didn't smile, he didn't act happy, but he got in.

He went out in the water with the teachers, he followed their directions, and he didn't threaten to kill anyone, including me.

I consider it a HUGE success.

But, it was not so for everyone.

I witnessed a number of moms embroiled in head to head combat with their little people over whether they would or wouldn't be getting in the swimming pool(most of them settled on wouldn't).

And, they all handled it differently.

There were the pleaders, and the bribers. The ones who used public ridicule and embarrassment. And, the one who got into the pool fully clothed to swim with her screaming child (which was funny, but kinda sad and awkward).

But the best by far was the loud mouthed, "OH YES YOU ARE MISTER! YOU ARE NOT WASTING MY MORNING CRYING AND SITTING ON THE SIDE OF THE POOL," mom.

You know the one who wants everyone to know that she will not be standing for child protest.

The one marching alongside the pool berating her kid (for being a baby), accusing him of sabotaging her (because she has "so many better things to do"), and basically looking like a lunatic (with her loud voice and her huge glasses, and her high heels and her funny words).

She's the one that winds up looking the dumbest of all because she made such a scene of not allowing her child to get what s/he wants, and then gives in in front of us all in a flamboyant show of frustrated emotion. Lesson: Don't bring a knife to a gun fight, and if you do, don't announce it to the world.

Whatever.

I need moms like this because it takes the focus off of my own little train wreck.

With her around, people don't notice that #3 is peeing on the pool deck or that #2 got outta the pool and informed me that I'm the meanest mommy in the world for not having his towel open and ready.

And, more importantly, people don't notice that I'm wearing my swim cover up backwards (thought the neck was up a little high), or that I do a pretty good impression of a seal in my swimsuit.

So, I'd like to thank loud-mouthed mom for ruining her rep at the pool today, thereby preventing me from ruining mine.

And, before I forget, HAPPY ANNIVERSARY MIMI & PAPA!

Photo of the Day & Those Darn Bachelors

We spent our weekend at the end of season soccer tournaments for #1 & #2.

This was the the best pic from the event.

Someone really had to go potty.

Just happy that this one time, it wasn't my kid announcing intimate details regarding body waste removal to the world.

'Cause honestly, this season, I spent as much time at the Slum Dog Millionaire outhouses as I did on the pitch.

And the Bachelors...

First, I am so in love w/that cute breakdancing-is-awesome-but-totally-not-a-real-job guy.

He's not for her; he would not make a good fiance for her (or anyone, at this point in his 25 year old life).

But, he's so cute and hilarious, and not just because I'm a horny, desperate housewife, cougar. Because I'm not.

Second, Jillian (as I've mentioned before) does not mind swappin' spit with the dudes. I'm pretty sure that, if you don't get slobbed down on your first one-on-one time with her, then you are NOT gonna get a rose. It's as simple as that.

Not saying she's a little freak or anything, but she definitely enjoys a little tongue.

Third, Jesse is hot.

Fourth, what was up w/that rose ceremony? It's crap like that that makes me think the show is a joke. When, in real life, is it ever cool to have a friend (aka Chris Harrison) stand there and grill your boyfriend (or boyfriendS) about other women?

Guys would not be okay with that.

Or, when is it ever even remotely okay to bring up a guy's official "status" on the like second date?

And, is it EVER okay to cry and get all emotional and snarky like that with the dude you are casually dating?

Real life, guy would "lose" your number, and tell his friends you are psycho.

Bachelorette life, they like you even more. What-Ever.

Fifth, what was up with Dave? He was seriously like some kinda ridiculously inappropriate, drunk, trucker (wait he really is a trucker, right) who enjoyed the taste of shoe leather because he spent SOOOO much time with his big, stupid steel toed boot in his mouth. And, normally I'm kinda into that (the inappropriate part; you know how I feel about swagger), but he was way beyond the normal, sexy amount of swagger, to the full blown wife beating, bare-foot-and-pregnant amount of swagger.

Not cool.

Finally. Juan was a bonafide d-bag. Can. Not. Take. That dude. He really is the exact opposite of Dave. So glad I won't have to put up with his simpy attitude anymore.

Can't wait till next week.

Predict she will cry at least 4 times.