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Saturday, July 10, 2010

Meet My Friends: Part Eleven

Today's guest blogger is the lovely Cher from The Only Girl. I love Cher for several reasons. The top two being...

Her name is CHER! Anyone named Cher is AWESOME in my book. (Are we all humming "If I Could Turn Back Time" now?)

Second, Cher lives in a house filled with testosterone and she has managed to hold on to her sense of humor, her sense of style and her wit. She gives me hope for my stinky-boy future!

Enjoy!

Thanks so much to Lucy for having me over! I don't get out much, so this is a real treat. I was thrilled when Lucy asked me to guest post because we've both followed each other for almost a year now and in fact, she gave me my very first Blog Award.

Seeing as Lucy’s an “Only Girl” around her house just like I am, I thought it would be appropriate to detail some of the things she can expect as Little Ricky gets older. Now granted, I’m out numbered 3 to 1 in my house, so her odds at 2 to 1 are slightly better, but still. The boys WILL take over. I can promise you that.

Things to watch out for:

Potty humour – although never funny to us girls, it is absolutely hilarious and it never gets old to the boys we love. No matter the age. Shaking your head in disgust with a look of “that is so inappropriate and not even a little bit funny” doesn't work either. Trust me on this.

Burping – it’s just part of everyday life. The louder the better. Get used to it. But this is also an area where you can gain a little of their respect. Do you have any idea how cool they think it is to have a mom that can burp the ABC’s? Pretty darn cool.

Farting – same as above. Initially, I spent many frustration filled years trying to un-teach this apparently pre-programmed section of the male DNA. It did not work. I have since thrown in the towel. And frankly, if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. It can be surprisingly liberating. I'm just saying.

Balls – they are in EVERY corner of my house (and I’m referring to the ones generally filled with air). I don’t know what it is about boys and balls, but they just seem to go together. Like boys and farting apparently. Boys will play with balls for hours and hours. Day after day. I can’t for the life of me understand what they find so fascinating about them, but it keeps them quiet, so I go with it.

Inability to understand us – they don’t get us just as much as we don’t get them. They don’t see the point of getting your nails done. Or spending 2 hours at the hair salon. Or the spa. Or our primal urges to go to the mall. They just don’t get it. And frankly, you need to keep it that way. Because if they “got it” they might want to come along. And these places are meant to be our’s and our’s alone. An oasis of relaxation and girl time where they are not welcome.

Lucy, I hope this bit of advice helps you navigate your way through all the glory of your boy-filled days - just be sure to enjoy every one of them along the way!

Cher

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