You want filtered or unfiltered?

I am so utterly ashamed of myself. When I initially started this, I had that go get 'em attitude... unfortunately, like so many other things that I plan out, life got in the way. Anyway, I am going to use this opportunity to just do a random mind dump. Mostly because I want to let y'all know some of the craziest things that have happened to me in the past few weeks.

So anyway, you know how most people have that filter in their minds? The one that says, "Hey, wait! Don't say that out loud. Trust me, it sounds much better in here..." Well, I think mine broke, if it ever existed to begin with. Case in point:

Last week, while sitting in the lounge at Kiki's dance class I was talking with some of the other parents there. Don't ask me why, but we always somehow manage to talk about the most random and crazy things in the world. Last week I may have mentioned that I am somewhat of a freak and a weirdo magnet. I don't care where I am or what I am doing, but freaks and weirdos flock to me like there ain't no tomorrow. I was telling them about an experience I had at a Bengals game. It was two weeks before I gave birth to my son, so needless to say, I was VERY much pregnant. The belly was... well, there really are no words to describe it. It has to be seen to be believed. (Pictures can be seen at www.kiramcdonald.com and then click on the Keegan Album and from there you can see 'the belly')

So back to my rambling... I was telling them about this woman who approached and asked if she could touch my belly. I'm not one of those people that's freakishly protective over my pregnant stomach. Maybe because I was a waitress when I was pregnant with my first child, and you'd be surprised at how many people touch without asking... So I told the woman yes, thinking she would touch it and be done, right? Wrong. Oh how very wrong I was. Her husband came looking for her after about 10 minutes. So here I'm thinking, "Free at last!" Right? Wrong again. Can you believe her husband joined in on the belly-rubbing? Freaky, right? That's what I was thinking too.

So after about 15 MORE minutes of the weirdos who were touching my belly, I was finally able to escape, claiming I desperately needed to pee. Wasn't entirely a lie, but I really was a little rattled. And my husband? Yeah, the jerk was standing off about 10 feet away laughing at me. I haven't forgotten that. He'll be reminded of it someday. Anyway, that brought on a conversation about how some people think it's cool to touch your baby... totally not cool. Especially if they don't ask or even know you. But anyway, one of the women was telling us about a girl she goes to church with. Now, the dance mom (who will now be referred to as DM) was getting sick, so when the church mom (who will be referred to as CM to avoid confusion) asked her to hold her three week old baby, DM balked. First of all, she doesn't really know CM all that well, plus she didn't want to get CM's baby sick. So CM gave her a dirty look, and DM told her she was sick and din't want the baby getting sick, but CM was insistent that DM hold her baby so she could go to the restroom.

Here's the part where my filter, or lack thereof comes into play. I'm cracking up at this whole situation, because it sounds like something that might happen to me when I said something absolutely crazy. I said, "What? Did she want you to lick the baby?" Then I went lick, lick, lick in thin air and said, "There. Now the baby's sick too." Are you shocked? Maybe even slightly appalled? I was. It really didn't sound like that in my head. They all got a kick out of it... but I still can't believe my brain didn't shutdown my mouth's function. But oh no, it doesn't stop there. As if that wasn't bad enough...

This week at dance class again (I'm really starting to think I should just put my iPod on shuffle, sit in the corner, and keep to myself) we were talking about the ballet. My cousin dances for the Cincinnati Ballet and we were talking about her only being a junior in high school. So one of the dads was asking about the Cincinnati School of Creative and Performing Arts. Only he couldn't remember the name of it. So I told him and said it's also known as the SCPA. Another one of the dance moms said that when she was younger she always got that confused with the SPCA (which for those of you who don't know is the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.) Ready for the filterless comment? I said, "It's okay, your kids will receive the finest education in the creative and performing arts. Don't worry, they won't be spayed or neutered."

Yeah. One week I'm talking about licking babies and the next week I'm talking about spaying and neutering young kids. I think I finally figured out why the freaks flock to me. So much for small mercies...