I am a mom.  My son, who’s a-year-and-then-some, is called The Bean.  That makes me Mommy Bean.  This is me with my Bean:                

Here are some random facts about Me:

• We waited a long time to have the Bean, and when I went off the pill I got pregnant immediately.  It happened so fast that when I told Daddy Bean that I was pregnant, he didn’t believe me.  (I also have a nervous habit of laughing when I’m freaked out, and my freak was freaked at that point, so I laughed and he thought I was f-ing with him.  I actually showed him the pregnancy test that read “PREGNANT” and he asked, “How’d you do that?”
                         
• Every time I have a garage sale I gift wrap at least one random piece of crap and price it really high, and call it the ”Mystery Gift.”  And every time, some dumb schmo buys it.
                             
• I lose EVERYTHING.  Keys and glasses especially.  I NEVER leave the house without having to return at least once to retrieve something I’ve forgotten.  I don’t even say goodbye on the first try anymore.
                           
• After The Bean was born I informed Daddy Bean, “I love you very much.  But if you and The Bean were ever trapped in a burning building and I had to make a choice about which one would survive, you should just kiss your ass goodbye.”  He was okay with that.
                          
• We have three cats and two dogs. Daddy Bean despises all of them except Napoleon, our weiner dog who was found wandering on a busy highway and now spends his days dodging very violently delivered hugs and kisses from the Little Bean.  
                         
• Simon the cat is our oldest living pet, about 14 now and skinny as hell but smart and still able to catch and eat whole birds.  I totally believe he understands me when I speak and remain thoroughly convinced that if a burglar came into the house Simon would find a way to save me.  I saw the re-enactment of this happening once on Ripley’s Believe It or Not, so I know it’s possible.  Daddy Bean thinks I shouldn’t count on it.
                          
• Simon is named after Simon LeBon of Duran Duran fame.  I was in a Duran Duran fan club from the fifth grade to the seventh.  They were my first concert and I will always love them, even if I can see now that they looked like girls and none of their lyrics actually made any sense at all.
                   
• My second-favorite band growing up, after Duran Duran, was The Police.  Which is much cooler to tell people.  Which is why I mentioned it.
                        
• My BFF is also a mom, with a seven-year-old son I call The Skater and a three-year-old daughter I call Princess G.  Both are hilarious and her stories about them are a very big part of the reason why The Bean is alive today.
                     
• My favorite Skater story:
                         
  When the Skater was somewhere between two and three, he was running around the house naked and making himself fart, which he thought was Hi. La. Ri. Ous.  BFF noticed that he was starting to run out of gas (pun!) and straining harder and harder each time, so she told him, ”If you poop on my floor, I’m going to be upset.” The Skater just laughed at her and kept running around the living room, making himself fart.  Finally, he strained a little too hard and farted, but instead of laughing, he stopped and looked at BFF, scared.  “What’s wrong?” she asked, noting the sudden change in mood.  ”You’re gonna be upset.”
                     
• The other day BFF informed three-year-old Princess G that she would not be picking her up from day care that afternoon.  That special privilege was reserved for Daddy.  Princess G’s response:  “Well, dammit.”