Gunther Gab: Yabba Dabba Doo!

The announcement has been made!

Gunther is..........A GIRL!

That's right. CareBear and Titty Baby will be the loving parents of a bow bearing, tutu twirling, pink powdered little darling. Wait a second.....this is Titty Baby's child we're talking about. Maybe I should say that CareBear and Titty Baby will be the loving parents of a camo wearing, deer hunting, lunchbox chugging little gal. Nevertheless.....it is so sweet to see the rays of excitement bursting from the happy couple.

Here is the exact report I got at dinner tonight.

"The doctor says she is a very healthy girl. Her heart beat was 135. However, she is measuring a little bigger than she should be. Her legs are looking like she is going to be tall. She has a larger than normal head and REALLY big feet."

This got me and Grand Puba  to thinkin'...................

The only thing missing?

Their very own Pebbles.

And soon that dream will come true! And I am MORE than excited for this fabulous couple. No one is more deserving of such a special gift than these two.

Congrats Titty Baby and CareBear!

I can already picture the scene in the delivery room.

When Did I Become An Adult?!

I hate to report that I've been a little down in the dumps lately. The Big Boca Bob family has been dealt some hard hits in the recent weeks, and it's been a struggle to wake up with a smile on my face - which if you ask any of my former roommates, I am annoyingly good at.  We could sure use any of your extra prayers, if you could spare a few.

There are many things in life I don't understand, and several of those questions will forever remain unanswered. This bothers me as I am one who fights for that closure. I try so hard (don't ask me why) to end all aspects of my life with a period (I'm speaking grammar here people, NOT menstruation). And right now I am living one big run-on sentence with LOTS of commas. God must NOT have been an English major. This coming Monday, I will be turning the big 2-5. That is a quarter of a century. And that is also another comma. YIKES. 

Year 24 was very good to me. In that year, I graduated with a M.S. degree in a field that I absolutely love (a bucket list item achieved). I found TWO great jobs in an economy that is currently refusing that right to many people. I purchased my very own home in which I live with the man I am hoping to spend the rest of my life with (ring pending). I rescued another hairy, annoying, four-legged, crack-smoking child that completed my little family of four. I have been witness to the growth and maturity of my siblings, and I have been witness to many historically proud moments for the U.S. of A. I am blessed. I know this. I thank God for every day given to me during my 24th year, and I can only hope that year 25 is just as giving.

However, 25 is not starting on the right foot and I am frightened for what lies ahead. I am a channeler of my emotions. I need an outlet. For many years, that outlet was music (which still sometimes works). More recently that outlet has been running (crazy concept, I know). And now that outlet has become list-making. I have made MANY lists over the last couple of days. Grocery lists (specifically for a fabulous Cinco de Mayo fiesta at Casa de Bob), checklists (for daily items that sometimes get left out), training lists (of miles to be ran if I ever want to accomplish an important goal, and lastly (and completely out of character for me) a bucket list. I realize that 25 is still extremely young in the realm of life. I am still a teen when it comes to life's biggest moments.  BUT, after watching my family continuously struggle to remain a family, I  do realize that turning 25 makes me another year older. Another year checked off another list. Therefore, with commas constantly being thrown into my life, I have decided to start creating my own periods. No.....not periods. More like exclamation points. In the mind of this very young 25 year old, every item checked off that list is a period. An accomplishment. An ending to a dream.

So......here it is. The bucket list. In no particular order.

1. Cross the Atlantic Ocean to visit another country.
2. Go skydiving.
3. Be debt free.
4. Get married.
5. Have my father walk me down the aisle.
6. Become a homeowner.
7. Become fluent in Spanish.
8. Get my motorcycle license.
9. Buy a Harley.
10. Run a marathon.
11. Attend a Super Bowl.
12. Learn how to solve a Rubix Cube.
13. Perform an original song on stage with all of my siblings.
14. Become a Mother
15. Find a hobby that Officer Bob and I can enjoy doing together and actually do it at least once a month for a year.
16. Go bungee jumping.
17. Visit Las Vegas.
18. Be an extra in a movie.
19. Earn an M.S. degree.
20. Go on a cruise.
21. Ride a tandem bike with Officer Bob.
22. Retire.
23. Schedule and attend a girls getaway every year.
24. Help a stranger in need.
25. Sleep under the stars.
26. Get up early to watch the sun rise with my best friends.
27. Walk the stairs to the top of the Statue of Liberty.
28. Bench press my own weight.
29. Fall in love.
30. Attend a Broadway show.
31. Write a letter to someone famous and have them write one back.
32. Bike a century (100 miles in one day)
33. Watch all my siblings graduate from high school.
34. Lose 30 more pounds to reach my goal weight.
35. Accept my own body.
36. Sit in the front row at a music concert.
37. Learn to drive stick shift.
38. Help someone else fulfill a bucket list dream.
39. Get a tattoo.
40. Eat at an underwater restaurant.
41. Organize a fundraiser for a charity I am passionate about.
42. Get a piercing.
43. See my dad be truly happy for a day.
44. Attend a destination wedding.
45. Start my own successful business.
46. Get matching sibling tattoos with the crew I call family.

I have taken the pleasure of crossing off a few items already accomplished! Now THAT does make me smile. The list will only continue to grow, but just recognizing my own dreams gives me hope for years 25 through ??.

After all.............

Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass.

It's about learning to dance in the rain!

The ONLY Reason I Would Miss My Chance at Conquering the Half Marathon

Before you hear conflicting reports, I would like to give you my statement.

This is how it all happened........

I have been training for the dreaded race for three months. THREE MONTHS! I am only 25 years old. I rarely commit to anything for three months.

However, the dreaded race fell on the same weekend as the 2011 production of the dancing sisters.

I was not worried. I thought I could handle it all.

I thought wrong.

One week prior to running this dreaded race, I found out that after performing in the dance production and commuting to the dreaded race, I would arrive in Champaign at approximately 3:30am. Alarm time for morning of dreaded race? 5:00am.  I wasn't even sure I could run 13.1 miles in the first place. Let alone attempt the dreaded run on 1.5 hours of sleep. Unfortunately, this meant I would have to withdraw from the dreaded race. Keep in mind.....THIS DOES NOT MAKE ME A QUITTER as mentioned by many friends and family. I am a MexiCAN not a MexiCAN'T. I promise you that marathon training is still in full effect. Race Date: October 9th. Please keep checking for ridiculous running updates as I reconsider this choice every day up until then.

Good news! My bib number still saw the finish line. The husband of my friend stepped in at the last minute. After some 007 work on the bib, Jesse became Mario and I couldn't thank him enough for stepping in at the last minute without training. I owe him many many drinks. The text message from him the night before the dreaded race read:

"YOU SUCK! I hope your Mexican clogging goes terribly!"

Well, Mario.....I hate to tell you, but the Mexican clogging went fabulously!

If the following pictures can provide any sort of preview, the ONLY reason I would give up running the dreaded race would be to completely embarrass myself on stage with Dancing Queen in her final show.

You see......I wasn't just goofing off! Dancing is serious business! Without further ado....I give you the final performance of Dancing Queen and Big Boca Bob. (I am officially retiring! - I'm WAY too old for this crap!)

P.S. Keep in mind that ALMOST all falls were intentional. I purposely choreograph those in so when my inability to breathe takes over, I can collapse without losing my dignity. Start the video at 1:38 to avoid the blabbering of the MC.

I apologize for my absence at the dreaded race, but I am thankful for all opportunities to spend quality time with Dancing Queen doing what she does best. She, of course, stole the show and I leave you with photographic proof that this girl is a shining star.

Reader Poll - Mature Audience Only

WARNING: Blog post contains explicit content (nudity).
May not be suitable for children. Parental discretion is advised.

POLL QUESTION:  Is this normal?!

Dog #1:   GILBERT

Dog #2:   REGGIE

This can't be comfortable, right?!


Waking up to the sight of dog genitalia makes me slightly uncomfortable and causes uncontrollable giggling. I am immature. I should have watched more rated R movies as a child. Maybe I would have been better prepared for situations like this. I am now taking any suggestions/tips on how to alter the sleeping habits of my four-legged children.

Thank You.

Dogs Shut Up When You Bark Back

So after a hard day's work at the new job (by the way....I started a new job), I came home to a sink full of dishes, a white tile floor COVERED in muddy paw prints, and a few (about 50) loads of laundry that I let pile up over the past week to be done. When this happens, I usually prioritize. Obviously, only one household chore can be done in a day. Many people think that due to my heritage I have some inherent want to clean, dust, sweep, etc. Ask Officer Bob. This is a lie. After an internal debate (a little bit of eenie meenie miney moe) I landed on dishes. The easiest of the three. Gimme a break. It was my third day on the job and the state inspector showed up. I think that picking the easiest of three chores upon returning home was a step up from my usual habit of consuming an entire bottle of Kahlua.  I will take the time now to tell you that everything you have read thus far is completely irrelevant. I give you the right to click that little red x in the upper right hand corner of your browsing window now to avoid completely wasting another 2 minutes of your life.

If you are still reading........all the previously stated was written to simply inform you that I was tired after this particular day. Not just tired, but HELLA tired. So.....at 9:00pm, I, the 25 year old going on 65 went to bed. I shut my eyes, rolled over, counted goats, rolled over, covered my face with three pillows, and finally, 20 minutes later decided that maybe my body wasn't quite as ready as my mind for sleepy time. This is where this story gets pretty ridiculous. I think I blacked out or something (and there wasn't even any Kahlua involved!)

I got up.
Walked to my dresser.
Put on my running clothes.
Laced up my totally rad running shoes (thanks to Officer Bob)
Strapped on my GPS watch and reflective vest (no comments necessary)
And walked outside.

By the time I was standing in the cold, rainy weather it was too late to retract this decision. And so, I channeled my inner Forrest Gump, and I ran.

And ran.

And got barked at by EVERY flippin dog in this small town.

And ran.

And actually convinced myself that wearing a reflective vest made me an athlete.

And ran.

And looked down at my watch to see I was passing mile 10.

And ran.

And thought to myself that a Mexican runnin' around a small town at 11:00 at night might be slightly suspicious.

And ran.

And cussed.....ALOT. At myself. I honestly can not tell you what happened to me.

And ran.

And totally jammed out to Journey, singing loudly, and making the flippin dogs bark even louder.

And ran.

And looked down at my watch to see the numbers 13.7.

So I stopped.

13.7

As in miles.

End Time?  11:53pm.

(And for all you runners out there (I'm talking to you El Aguila), I realize this time is slow. I get it. But the number to focus on in this manner is 13.7. Miles. That I ran.)

And then?

I was tired.

So I went to bed.

P.S. In case you are wondering, I already ordered a CT scan and set up an appointment with the best psychologist in town. I'm sick. I need help.

Gonna Lay Ya Down By The Fiyah!

If you plan to visit my household within the next ten to fifteen years, please do not dress like an African-American chef. I realize this is quite a demanding request as I personally don't leave the house without my chef hat and chocolate face paint, BUT please do your best to abide by this rule.

Officer Bob has trained my poor dog to be sincerely frightened of all members of the culinary profession. I sincerely apologize to all chefs, bakers, former elementary school cafeteria workers, and the like.

P.S. Officer Bob owned this lovely figurine prior to our house purchase. It will NOT be displayed in the kitchen as requested.

P.S.S. Just add this video to the long list of ridiculous things that keep me entertained. I need to get a life.

If The Mrs. Told You To Jump Off A Bridge, Would You?

I am:  Chicana (aka Mexican-American for all you gringos out there).

I want:  my kids to be bilingual.

I have:  two tattoos and I only regret one of them.

I wish:   for peace of mind.

I hate:  when people take 11 items to the 10 items or less express lane at the grocery store.

I fear:   not living up to people's expectations.

I hear:   my dog chewing on the carpet and I'm too lazy to get up so I just repeatedly scream his name thinking eventually he will just stop.  

I search:   for that one damn missing sock with which the dryer taunts me.

I wonder:  why there are so many different kinds of mustard, but only one kind of ketchup.

I regret:   that I can't answer this with "nothing"

I love:  the smell of freshly cut grass. (please keep racial comments to yourself.)

I ache:  after a really good workout. (and I admit: that I sometimes like it)

I always:   enjoy proving El Aguila wrong.

I usually:   prove El Aguila wrong.

I am not:   African-American. (a question asked often)

I dance:  like Beyonce. No really....in my mind I think I do.

I sing:  a little less like Beyonce.

I never:   turn down free beer.

I sometimes:   turn down free whiskey.

I cry:   when my car catches on fire with every single piece of jewelry I own inside.  

I lose:   my mind trying to lose weight.

I am grateful:   for great people with which to share this crazy thing called life.

I need:   suggestions for a good book to read as I now have more free time to do so.

I should:   spend that free time instead cleaning the house or training for that dreaded race coming up in three weeks.


You're next . . . Laura, Erica, and anyone with absolutely nothing better to do on a Sunday night.

Gunther Gab: Week 15 Update

SPECIAL REPORT: Gunther has officially matured from a lemon to an orange!

ACTUAL SONOGRAM PHOTOS





It is safe to say that one can pretty easily tell that CareBear is pregnant now! It depresses me knowing that I will never look as cute as she does when I decide to bear my own children. At 40 weeks, she might actally reach the same size as my right thigh (the bigger of the two). Must be rough.

Only 25 weeks to go......

Gunther is growing at an amazing rate and looking more like a human every day. Because Gunther's skin is so thin, you are able to see blood vessels through the skin. Lanugo hair covers the baby's body (just like Daddy!), but it will be gone when Gunther is born.  The hair on the eyebrows and head continues to grow. Gunther is also now able to suck his/her thumb. Even though the eyes continue to move to the front of the face, they are still widely separated.  Gunther's ears look like normal ears and continue to develop externally. The bones that have already formed continue to get harder and retain calcium. Gunther is very mobile and flexible at this point. He/she can bend the arms at the elbows and wrists and can also make a fist with his/her hands.

Also.....if the actual sonogram pictures above provide accurate representation, I believe lemon baby Gunther is a boy and there is no question that orange baby Gunther is the offspring of Titty Baby. But then again, you can't really trust hospital technology these days.

We're Not Exactly What You Would Call "Huggers"

Day: Friday, April 1st 2011

Time: 12:30 p.m.

Setting: Mama Dirt's Hospital Room

Text Message Sent To Huracan Ramirez and El Aguila:
"Mom had surgery. They had to remove her gallbladder."

Actual Responses (via text message):

Huracan Ramirez: "Sweet Baby Jesus"

El Aguila: "Damn. Does she get to keep it in a jar? I wanted to name it."

For those of you who actually care more about her welfare than her very own sons, Mama Dirt is recovering from surgery well. Thank you for your thoughts and prayers.

Reason #38 I Better Get More Than The Boys In The Will

Tina! Come Get Some Ham!

18 Facts You Never Wanted To Know About Llamas

1. Members of the camel (camelid) family.

2. Twinning is rare. (How can something like this be duplicated?! Let's just say God made this decision for a purpose.)

3. Average weight is 250 - 400 lbs. (As an individual who has "lifted" this woman on several occasions, I can say this is so not true. But funny nonetheless)

4. Average birth weight is 18-35 lbs (Wow, Daisy Duke! That must have been one helluva birthing process!)
5. Babies are weaned at about 5-6 months. (I'll divert this one to Grand Puba who is still working on the "weaning" of his young llama after 23 years. How's that goin' for ya?)

6. Wool ranges from white to black, with shades of gray, beige, brown, red and roan between. It may be solid, spotted or marked in an array of patterns. (With the amount of allergies this one has, the description of spotted wool seems most appropriate.)
7. North American owners will find them remarkably hardy, healthy, easy to care for and virtually disease-free. (Two words.....Yeah. Right.)

8. They are environmentally sensitive. (Direct Quote: "Mom.....I will never live in a small town. There is nothing to do there." Environmentally sensitive? Yes.)
9. A conditioned llama can carry approximately 25% to 30% of its body weight, making a llama as strong, if not stronger, than a horse. (I totally believe this to be true.)
10. Great working partners and family pets. (Her family even allows pets to be in family pictures. They treat her like one of their own....how sweet!)

11. They have predictable, calm responses to new situations. (NOT true. Period)
12. Their intelligent, gentle nature allows even small children to interact with them. (Gentle? yes. Intelligent? questionable. TRIVIA - What does a conductor say before leaving the station? Answer: NOT "On Aboard!")

13. They have discrete bathroom habits. Their pelleted droppings, similar to a deer, are virtually odorless and are generally deposited in the communal dung pile. (Crapping with the door open is NOT discrete. Taking photos of your own feces and texting them to your brother-in-law is NOT discrete. As a former roommate, virtually odorless is not the term I would use. Wikipedia lies.)
14. They chew their cud like cattle and sheep. (That's more like it!)
15. These highly social animals need the companionship of their species. (Absolutely true!)

16. Their calm nature and common sense make them easy for anyone, even children, to handle. (Translated as "they have the same common sense as children")
17. They communicate with a series of ear, body and tail postures.

18. AND THE MOST TRUE OF THEM ALL...............Spitting is the llamas way of saying "Bug Off!" - most commonly to establish pecking order at mealtime.

And somehow,

even verifying most of the above information to be true,

we still love this adorable little llama.

FELIZ CUMPLEANOS, LLAMA!

Wishing you a spit-free, pellet-dropping, cud-chewing birthday!

P.S. I am happy to announce that after numerous (absolutely zero) responses to the personal ad, some fool considers this lady dateable. We truly wish her soon-to-be nicknamed beau the best of luck! I'm not so sure he knows what he's getting himself into. One hint: Keep the fridge stocked with ham.

Is It Too Late to Switch My Primary Language to Spanish?

Pending the official announcment at the end of the month.........

The following have all been added to the Oxford English Dictionary:

• OMG 

(We are promoting the idea that future generations of the American population might actually communicate via abbreviations)

• LOL

(What happened to the crazy notion of actually just laughing out loud?! We now have to narrate our actions using digital technology.)

• ♥

(Dear writers of the Oxford English Dictionary: This is not even a word. It contains no letters of the alphabet. No wonder those crazy Mexicans can't learn English)

Good News! Muffin top and wassup will also be added making my use of these words in conversation less ridiculous and 25% more cool.

"Wassup, Officer Bob! Do these pants make my muffin top look big?" LOL

Better Sit Down.......I'm Gonna Be Serious For Once

Dear Family, Friends, and creepy stalkers who frequent this blog,

Let me start by stating I am NOT a runner. Those of you who know me can attest to this statement.  I have never claimed to be a runner, and after the events of this upcoming year I will probably STILL hold true to this claim. However, I started a personal journey almost 12 months ago in an effort to lose weight. I was no longer happy with the person I saw in the mirror, and I devoted my days to making a change for myself. I have seen small glimmers of success in my goals, but please know that this is a powerful long-term journey for me. During this transition of hope in my own life, I took to running as both a method of weight loss and stress relief. As a result, I have set new goals for myself in an effort to also offer a transition of hope for others.

On October 9th, 2011 I will be joining over 40,000 other competitors in running 26.2 miles along the streets of Chicago as a participant in the Chicago Marathon. Just saying the word marathon causes my heart rate to rise, my muscles to quiver, and my boyfriend to turn in the other direction. In case you were wondering......yes I have reconsidered this decision many times since clicking the "register" button over a month ago.  However, I have chosen to run not for myself, but for a cause very personal and dear to my heart. I will be running in an effort to raise funds for the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention.

Those of you who know me understand that the topics of depression and suicide aren’t the easiest for me to discuss. My father has battled with depression for the majority of his life. I do not now and will never be able to understand the complexity of this dreadful disease. I can only admit that I have been a firsthand witness to the effect it has had on a once happy and loving husband and father. I am thankful for every day spent with him during my childhood. A man who was once known for his sense of humor and involvement with his children is now struggling every day to find a reason to smile. I hate this disease, and I hate what it has done to one of the most important men in my life. Depression gets in the way of everyday functioning, causes unbearable pain, and steals his energy and motivation. I know that my father will always be proud of the person I have become, and I am truly thankful that he has been able to witness all of my personal successes and failures. I thank God everyday that my father's story is unique in that he has survived attempts to end his own life. Other individuals have not been so lucky. Approximately ten years ago, my mother lost her only brother to suicide. With this choice, my uncle left behind two loving parents, his only sister, and three young daughters to mourn his loss. I can't begin to imagine the state of mind and the sadness one must feel to knowingly make this decision. My uncle would have turned fifty years old this year, and it is my goal to assist others in finding a way to see their own life milestones.

According to the AFSP, more than 33,000 people in the United States die by suicide every year. It is this country's 11th leading cause of death. Suicide is a much more involved phenomenon than just a response to a single event or set of circumstances. The American Foundation for Suicide Prevention is at the forefront of research, education and prevention initiatives designed to reduce loss of life from suicide. With more than 33,000 lives lost each year in the U.S. and over one million worldwide, the importance of AFSP's mission has never been greater, nor our efforts more urgent.

The AFSP also works toward increasing national awareness about depression and suicide and assists survivors of suicide loss. If you have lost a friend or loved one as a result of suicide or know someone currently suffering from depression, I would like to send my greatest condolences. My heart hurts with yours. If you have not, I pray that you never have to experience this loss. During my 26.2 mile run, I would like to send the message that I am not only running for myself, but in hope for change for my father and in remembrance of my uncle. If this disease or this choice has made a personal impact in your life, I would like to extend that message to include friends and loved ones of those close to you. If you would like to donate in someone's name, please let me know, and I will be sure to include his/her name on my shirt to notify others of this powerful message.

Now for the fun part.........I am asking you to consider supporting my participation and efforts. Donations may be made online by visiting my personal fundraising webpage and clicking on the "Support Me" button. You may also e-mail me at bigbocabob@hotmail.com if you would like to send a donation via snail mail.  I would like to raise over $500 to assist the AFSP in their continuing efforts surrounding this cause. Any contribution will help the work of AFSP and all donations are 100% tax deductible (I threw that part in for you, Titty Baby!).  Also....don't forget to tell your friends! For more information about the AFSP, please visit their website at www.afsp.org. Thank you in advance for your help in my journey.

Sending love and a smile,
Big Boca Bob

Pictures like this make me happy.

Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow

This one time.

Over my lunch break.

I was out running errands.

When I walked into this salon.
(which I really wish I could tell you the name of because it would make this story so much more funny, but I won't because I don't believe in publicly desecrating a small town business in today's society)

And asked them to lop off 11 inches of my hair.
 _______________________________________________

In the words of Julia Roberts........

"You people work on commission, right?"
"Big mistake!"
"Big!"
"Huge!"
_______________________________________________

** NOTE: Photos will NOT be posted for the next 6 months.

Quotes from Officer Bob via telephone when I called to tell him the news:

1. "Why would you do something so ridiculous!"
2. "You didn't learn from the last time you did this? - ridiculous!"
3. "I bet you look ridiculous"
4. "When I see you, I'm gonna tell you it's ridiculous"

I'm 99.9% sure that he has confused the word ridiculous with amazing.
Little known fact - very common mistake.

This is the second time that I've donated to Locks of Love in my short life time.
And though I may look ridiculous, I hope someone else is given the chance to see that they do not.

Who Doesn't Love a Good Charlie Sheen Reference?

This past weekend, on top of spending quality time with the family, I had the luxury of watching Dancing Queen do what she does best.

Dance.

In fact I watched people dance for 9 hours. Yes I said 9.
World's longest dance-a-thon.

However, being the supportive sister that I am I pretended to enjoy every minute of it. Ok......I really did enjoy most minutes. Especially those minutes when Dancing Queen took center stage. She makes me so proud. But those minutes when the dancers performed what they call "lyrical" translated as "dancing with a face of constipation" were a struggle.

I introduce you to the 4th place team in the state of Illinois.  Excuse the "Oh No" exclamation from the videographer about 30 seconds into the routine. Even I know that dropping a pom is comparable to murder in the dance world. The girls were able to recover well. PHEW!

(Dancing Queen would be the solo gal in the front. She's totally cooler than me.)

I would like to note that Dancing Queen (along with two other girls on the squad) received a Rising Star award. She is truly a jazz-dancin', hip hoppin' Supah-Stah.

I would also like to note that if there was an award for best facials, this girl would win hands down. She puts dignity on hold in order to create facial expressions that no judge could forget.

In true Supah-Stah style, Dancing Queen celebrates victory with a "Supermodel Documentary Hour!" (If you do not get this movie/SNL reference, I apologize. But we think it's funny. Sorry.)  Having been gifted the modeling eye of Tyra, trust me when I say that this girl's got skillz.

I, however, am still a supermodel in training. Perfecting this beauty is not easy.

Following the dance performances, the family continued the theme at the hotel. It has been mentioned before that El Aguila and I are quite competitive. In EVERY aspect of life. Dancing Queen had already proven her dance abilities, and now it was a battle of the siblings. We chose a very important characteristic of dance. Flexibility. I honestly think it is completely normal for siblings in their 20's to attempt feats of flexibility on a Saturday night in a Ramada hotel room while wearing pajamas and cowboy boots. Then again....I also think Gnomio and Juliet is a completely normal portrayal of Shakespeare. To each his own, I suppose.

They say that pictures are worth 1000 words.

The following pictures only say one word.

WINNER!

Once again being the supportive sister that I am, I attempted to assist El Aguila in mastering the flexibility task.

Failure.
Sorry dude......keep working on it.

Turns out both Dancing Queen and Big Boca Bob actually have something in common with Charlie Sheen - WINNING!

Just Call Me Rocky

Run! Run!
As Fast As You Can!
I'm absolutely, positively, 100% sure you are going to catch me
Because I am NOT the gingerbread man.

I am more of a chocolate donut man.
Round, dark, and slow-rolling.

I hit a wall today.
Around mile 4.
Not a literal wall (thank goodness)
But a figurative wall.
I find that I am subject to self sabotage.
I am slow.
Ok.....not just slow.
But SSSSSSSLLLLLLLOOOOOOOWWWWWW.

El Aguila is a distance runner who swears by the runner's high.
Let me tell you.....I JUST DON'T GET IT!
So far my training has tested my endurance with an eight mile run.
It wasn't as horrific as anticipated.
However, I felt no runner's high.
Chest pain, shortness of breath, muscle fatigue.
Yes. I felt all those.
Runner's high? What does that even mean?

I will note that I am NOT discouraged.
I am simply baffled.
El Aguila lies.
I vow to trudge on.
I vow to continue to annoy Officer Bob with complaints about training.

I also vow to never eat biscuits and gravy on the morning of a long run day.  If you happen to be driving down the highway approximately 2.73 miles north of Casa de Bob, I apologize for the disgusting pile of regurgitated breakfast on the side of the road.  No joke. How am I supposed to practice my sexy, Baywatch run with chunks of biscuit stuck to my chin? Gross.

"Gunther Gab": Week 10 Update

So I have taken it upon myself to give Mama-To-Be CareBear weekly updates on the status of her unborn child, Gunther. Papa-to-Be Titty Baby is less than amused with my descriptions of childbirth involving words such as "fecal matter" and "taint." However, I find enjoyment in watching him cringe and gag in disgust. It doesn't take much to make me smile - just the discomfort of Officer Bob's brother-in-law.  CareBear's pregnancy has been quite educational for me as I have become interested in researching the stages of pregnancy and all of the awkward scenarios through which a fetus is required to mature. (Babies have tails?!! WHAT?!)

Baby Gunther is officially ten weeks old as of yesterday, and I would like to report that according to CareBear he/she is maturing according to planned. However he/she is currently causing CareBear to feel a little under the weather due to migraines and nausea. Please send happy thoughts her way!

I would now like to introduce a new segment entitled "Gunther Gab"

Week 10 Update

“Plum”

At this point of in CareBear's pregnancy, the crown-to-rump length of Gunther is 1.25 to 1.68 inches. It is now easier to tell how much the baby weighs since he/she is beginning to put on some weight. (just like Daddy) 

Gunther weighs approximately 5 grams and is the size of a plum!

This week is somewhat of a landmark for Gunther. By now, his/her complete body plan is laid down. Gunther will continue to develop and grow for the remainder of the pregnancy. The fingers and toes have separated and the tail has disappeared now (see....I told ya!). Gunther has taste and tooth buds at this point which will continue to develop. The brain will continue to grow at an amazing rate and nearly a quarter of a million new neurons are produced every minute!

The embryonic heart is completely developed.

I hope you have found today's episode of "Gunther Gab" very educational. It has been brought to you by the letter 4. Please stay tuned for future editions.

True Life: My Dog Needs Valium

Ever had those night terrors when you imagine your bed is an evil zombie plotting to kill you so you take it upon yourself to drag it around the house and shred it to pieces leaving nothing but a dead pillowcase carcass?

NO?

Oh.......I guess that's just Reggie then.

Guess that's what I get for letting him watch

Night of the Living Dead right before bed.

Good thing I can practice motherhood with adopted dogs rather than human children.
Life is all about trial and error right?
CareBear and Titty Baby should refrain from allowing Gunther to have sleepovers at Uncle Officer Bob's house for at least the first 8-10 years of his/her life.

Until I can get a prescription for puppy Xanax, I'll guess I'll stick with giving Reggie a shot of vodka with his bedtime story. Always worked for me!