No Butts About It

However inappropriate this comment may be, I am just going to go for it. My husband has a great butt. I was once one of those people who thought it was gross when people would comment on how great a butt was. I thought that butts were strictly for utilitarian purposes – I think we all know what I am talking about here. Then I married the man with a shelf on his lower back side, and it is fantastic. I am pretty sure it’s okay to think about butts as long as they belong to your spouse. I am also pretty sure that my spouse would prefer me to get to my point of this blog rather than continue to divulge in the conversation of his rear end. So, I will move on . . . .

Aren't these two adorable?!

. . . To my son’s butt. He has the cutest little baby tushie and I love it. In my previous blog, I mentioned that Zachary has the same bedtime routine every night to help him get ready for his “long sleep.” Part of that routine is bath time. We take off his clothes and diaper and walk over to the bathtub. This is my favorite time of the day….nakey baby time. We always make a big deal about Zachary’s cute and chubby rump which he clenches en route to the bath. There is even a song that goes with this ritual. That is what happens when a cute baby butt is exposed. We were visiting my family at my parents’ lake house for Labor Day weekend and we even showed off his cute backside to his Uncle Eric and Aunt Laura, who also thought it was adorable – because it is.

That being said, I made a comment to Troy one night about how cute Zachary’s butt is to which he commented that I have – and I quote – “a very healthy butt-addiction.” It’s true, though only when it applies to my men. It’s not like I am thinking about random men’s/babies butts. To be honest, admitting my “healthy butt-addiction” is kind of a weird confession that I was not sure I should even blog about at all. I mean, who commits to writing a whole blog about butts? Well, I suppose I do so if I am going to do this, let’s do this right.  We were all made in different shapes and sizes and the “desired butt of choice” is different for everyone. Let’s talk about a few;

1. The Baby Butt – This butt is at the top because it is probably the cutest. Who can’t resist two tiny cheeks that normally don’t get to see the light of day because you are really flirting with danger by allowing a baby to freestyle.

2. The Significant Other Butt – This category has a large spectrum. This is basically the butt that catches your eye. Hopefully it is attached to your spouse, otherwise you are gonna get into trouble.

3. The Hairy Butt – Yep, I went here. I don’t think I really need to explain this one.

4. The J-Lo Butt – This is the butt I wish I had. This butt can fill out jeans like nobody’s business and looks great on a dance floor.

5. The No Butt – I would fall into this category. For some reason, my sister Laura and I got this gene. We don’t have butts. I like to say my butt is really just the tops of my legs. It seriously hurts if I am sitting too long because of a lack of padding. We get it from our grandpa who also is a No Butt and has to sit on a pillow.

I am sure right now you're thinking, "This blog could use some Sir Mix A Lot." And you would be right, so I found "Baby Got Back" compiled from different movies. You're Welcome.

Toasty Tushies

It has been a cold and damp day here in Minnesota. The wind is howling outside the window to ensure that you are aware of its presence. The leaves dance and whip across the road . . . well only the ones that haven't been weighted down by the rain. It is dark and somewhat gloomy. My fingers and toes are freezing. **Side Note: Troy calls them 'ice picks' when they get this cold. It is fun to 'attack' him with my ice picks by sticking them on his back or stomach. He doesn't like this game for some reason.** So, on my way home from work today, I turned on my seat warmers for the first time this season. In just a few minutes, my tushie was nice and toasty. They were cozy amist the depressing and unpredictable elements.

I love my heated seats. They are the best thing I have in my car. I didn't even request them. I never even thought about it when I bought my car a few years ago. The model at the dealership just happened to have them and that was the one I bought. Since I bought my car in May, I didn't reap the full benefits of this added feature for a few months . . . and then, it changed my life. I don't know if I can ever own a car without heated seats now, especially since I live in Minnesota.

Because of my beloved heated seats, my car has been dubbed, "the winter car" meaning that when Troy and I take long car trips, we use his car in the warmer months and mine in the colder months. More often than not, I have driven/ridden from the Twin Cities to Chicago with my heated seats on the entire time. I love them. They are like a satisfying hug! They make you feel nice when your feet are wet and your hands are, well, ice picks. Thankfully there are two heat settings. I always start out with the highest heat setting, because I am usually cold and want to warm up quickly. Then, my tushie might start to feel like a rotisserie chicken so I switch to the lower setting. Not so oven-like, but still very nice. It's fantastic.

Sometimes, heated seats can work against you. My mom had heated seats in her Durango. When my sister and I would ride in there, we would turn on the other person's seats while they weren't looking. By the time you realized that the seat was on, it was too late. Your rump was roasted. It would have normally been a welcoming feeling except we would do this in the middle of summer when the last thing you need is more heat.

I would like to end this blog with a poem: . . . . . . (ahem) . . . . . .

Ode to my Heated Seats
You are a lovely comfort.
Though I cannot feel my appendages,
You warm my rear and lower back.
Everyone loves you.
By everyone, I mean, specifically me.