I am sick...this must mean I am dying.

I have been sick the last two days and I am DONE! DONE I SAY! DONE! OK so my stomach just laughed at me after I typed that...well it more grumbled at me and said "I'm going to kill you later, just wait."
I can handle any types of pain. Give me a lot of pain and  I will barely make a sound. I literally turn into Superman.

Yeah I turn into a hot guy...What? I can be who ever I want, it's my blog and I'm sick!

But give me nausea and I turn into Spiderman:

I'm dying. I just know it.

I become the most whiniest, pathetic, and most useless person in the world. When I get sick I literally lose the ability to talk and I can only communicate through groans and moans. I also am pretty positive that I am going to die. My poor husband...

When I get sick my stomach and my brain suddenly become the most useless organs in my body. My appendix did a better job at handling things!

My stomach and brain get very confused. My stomach doesn't know what it wants, and my brain only hears half of the conversations. Here is the conversation my stomach as with my brain.

Stomach: "I am Starving but don't eat anything!"

Brain: "Alright! The stomach is starving! Let's eat that steak over there!"

Me: Eats steak because my brain told me to.

Stomach: "NO!!! WHY IS ALL OF THIS FOOD COMING DOWN???!!!" 

Brain: "Wait, you said you were starving!"

Stomach: "Yes, but I said DON'T EAT ANYTHING!"

Brain: "You should have been clearer!"

Stomach: "How is DON'T EAT ANYTHING not Clear?!!!"

Me: running to the toilet because my brain is stupid.

So my husband gets me a Coke and my stomach says:

"Ok let's try some toast with this Coke."

Brain: "Are you sure?"

Stomach: "Yes I want toast and Coke....Is that clear enough?"

Brain: "OK toast and Coke it is."

Stomach: *singing in an awesome tune* "Yay! I love toast and Coke, toast and Coke yay for toooaaassst and Coke!"

Me: Start eating toast and Coke

Stomach: *still singing* "Toooaaasssttt aaaannnndddd....wait a minute....ONLY COKE! ONLY COKE!!! ONLY COKE!!! NO TOAST!!!! BAD TOAST!!! WE DON'T LIKE TOAST!!!!"

Brain: "But you said you wanted toast!!! Make up your mind will you?!!!"

Stomach: "I just did make up my mind! I said only Coke! How is that not making up my mind?!"

Brain: "Oi, you need to shut up down there!"

Stomach: "You should leave the thinking to me, you're useless!"

Now that you know the conversations between my stomach and my brain you should know the conversations between me and Chris:

Me: "uuuhhhhbbmmeaaffaach" *FYI I can't speak English anymore because my brain is too busy arguing with my stomach it has forgotten how to speak to the mouth and it makes me sound like an idiot.*

Chris: "You want me to put the blanket on you?"

Me: *giving a wanna be nod* "thanmoienklkyouuu"

Chris: 'You're welcome I love you."

Me: Groan so uncomprehensible that I'm surprised that Chris got the meaning that I said "I love you too"

Chris: "I'll get you some more toast."

Brain and Stomach: "NNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Me:*brain starts working with my mouth* "BBBBBBBBLLLLEEHHHHH NNNNNNNOOOOO!!!!"

Then there is me and my two year old child:

Kiara: "Look mommy I'm super hero Rara!!!" 

*comes at me full speed and jumps on my stomach*

I don't think I need to go into detail about what happens next.

OH boy well I better get going because remember how my stomach said that it was going to kill me later? I think "later" is here! Oh no...

This is why I don't sew...

Apparently there was a woman orientation that I must have missed because I just became aware that every woman on this earth knows how to sew except for me. I consider myself a woman, mostly because I have the physical bits to prove it, but last night I was de-womanmasculated (this is a real word in "Megan's Dictionary of BS".) It all started with the phrase "Sure I'll go!".

The other day my Mom asked "Hey Megan will you go to Young Womens (a church group that consists of Young Women ages 12-18) with your little sister? It's this Tuesday and it's a mother-daughter thing but I can't go."
Me: "Sure I'll go!" (Bad Megan Bad!)
Mom: "Great! They are making temple bags"
Me: *apparently not thinking* "Oh that sounds fun!"

Tuesday comes:
Mom: "Ok here is the sewing machine."
Me: "Wait....WHAT?! Sewing? I don't know how to sew. You never said anything about sewing."
Mom: "It's ok they will teach you."
Me: "Mom, I don't even know how to set up the sewing machine."
Mom: "Oh that's easy, just follow the directions on the machine. The directions are drawn out in pictures, they have arrows and everything."

So I get my little sister and off we go to Young Womens, and that's when everything went wrong...
I put the sewing machine on the table and it literally took me 5 minutes just to get the cover off of the machine. I felt a little proud of myself for being able to find the two clips that was holding the cover together. Yay me! Alright, step one is done, now time to set up the machine. Now, remember what my mom said? There are easy directions to follow?
Here is a picture of the machine:

Basic, simple...right...?....WRONG! I spent 20 frickin' minutes trying to figure out how to get the sting from the top to the bottom and into the needle with a hole the size of an atom.

Oh let's not forget the instructions that were drawn on the machine:

Interpretation: Move string from snake being pierced by nail symbol to sideways G symbol. Avoid the birds, they will point you in the wrong direction and the world will end.

The teacher gave us the pattern that we were supposed to cut out:

Simple. I can cut a straight line!

This is how it turned out:

  Now to the sewing. The teacher started to explain how we are supposed to sew the pieces of fabric together. All of the moms and even the 12 year olds were nodding in agreement like they understood what she was saying. I was like "Is she even speaking English?!"

So I have my little sister place her fabric on the sewing machine she starts to sew. The first stitch went perfect, the second stitch was great, then the third stitch decided to screw everything up. The machine started beeping at me! You know those ear splitting beeps that scream "You're an idiot and you should never be allowed to sew again" type beeps? Yeah it was one of those beeps.  In the digital box the machine reported "ERROR 1". I look around and notice that the machine ate the fabric. I mean it literally ATE the fabric.  I was finally able to get the machine to burp out the fabric, and we tried again...Error 1....and again...Error 1....apparently the machine really loves eating the fabric.  Finally I redid the string and put it through the maze again and my little sister began sewing again.
First stitch great, second amazing, third...BEEP!!! In the digital box it screamed "ERROR 3" What does ERROR 3 mean?!!!

So I look around, reboot the machine, restring the machine, and have my little sister start sewing again.
First stitch good, second stitch great, third stitch...Yup you guessed it. "ERROR 1".

The machine ate up the fabric so bad that I had to tear the machine apart and pull out all of the little threads.
Apparently, I was being watched because two of the moms came to help me and one offered their sewing machine to my little sister (who was hitting her head on the table and muttering "I should have asked Alicia to come. She knows how to sew.").
Suddenly, I heard the best news of my life! The teacher said "Alright, time is up and it is time to go home."
FINALLY! Unfortunately, my little sister only got the strap half way done.
As we were walking out the door my little sister says "Next time I'm having Alicia help me, or even Amber, or even Tracen (my 3 month old nephew)."
So I laughed and said "I told you that I failed homec class in junior high. Now you know why."

This is why I stick with sports.
Sewing is now on my "Hell list". This means if I go to Hell it will consist of me: Pant shopping, bra shopping, scrap booking, and now sewing. After today I decided that I am going to find a way to bribe God and get into heaven.

I have no response to that answer...

I am an educated person. I know how to converse with people, and I think I do a fairly good job at getting my point across.  Nothing in life has ever taught me how to converse with a two year old. Apparently two year olds talk a lot differently than adults. This would have been great to know before hand.  I have had some of the weirdest conversations with my little girl and she always seems to baffle me and leave me speechless.

Kiara: Oh no mom! We forgot my baby and teddy bear!
Me: Nope I got them. See your mom is awesome huh? (Feeling like king of the world right now)
Kiara: No. Your mom is awesome, and Alicia is awesome too.
Me: (Awesomeness deflated a little) Did you know that my mom is grandma?
Kiara: silence for 2 minutes......WAIT! You're not Grandma!!

Grandma: Kiara if you are big enough to say a big word like "Disgusting" then you are big enough to use the potty
Kiara: But I say it little.

Me: What time is it?
Kiara: (as though she knows everything) It's not 5 o'clock yet
She was right it was only 1:30 PM

Me: (shouting down stairs to Chris) Do you think if I spray that Downy Wrinkle Free stuff on my hair it would straighten it?
Chris: You shouldn't do it
Kiara: (from the Kitchen shouts) You should do!!!
I agree with Kiara on this one, I really want to try it.

I come into Kiara's room at 9:15 PM and find her laying down playing with her doll house and have this conversation with her:
Me: Kiara! Why aren't you sleeping?
Kiara: Because I'm pooping SO MUCH. (inflection was really there)
What do you even say to this?!
I put her on the toilet and after 5 minutes she says: Oh. I'm just stinky, I'm done.

Me: KIARA!!! DON'T YOU DARE TOUCH THAT!!! NO! NO! NNOOOOOOO!
Kiara: (Looking very seriously) Calm down mommy, it's okay.
Me: Wait....Whaaaat?

We are at Walmart:
Me: Kiara please stop kissing the meat window
Kiara: But I'm so hungry!

We are in the public restrooms at Traverse Outlet, which by the way are freaking amazing!!! You literally get your own room for your toilet. It's not like any other stall I've ever seen! It's like the people who built Traverse Outlets want you to know that your butt is king over everything! If you've never seen them then you need to go! Even if you don't have to use the bathroom just go make your butt happy and sit in one of those stalls!
(Kiara burnt her lip on some hot food about two weeks ago and will never forget it)
Me: Kiara please stop kissing the public bathroom walls!
Kiara: But my lips are burned.
Me: No, you need to stop that's gross
Kiara: But I like it!
Apparently my child likes the taste of public bathroom walls. Yup she is Christopher's child. ;)


Kid is only two and I'm already getting answers that I cannot respond to. If she keeps it up at this rate I think I'm in real trouble. :)