That Feeling When . . . As Told by Winnie the Pooh

We were staying at my in-laws’ place down in Philly last weekend—after I had dropped the dog off with them, and then we had flown into Oklahoma on the flight from hell, and then flown back on the two other flights from hell, and then we had gone back down to retrieve the dog (let’s just say I’m not leaving home for a while and possibly never flying again)—and for some reason decided to watch some classic Winnie the Pooh.* About halfway into the movie I decided that despite the often overly sentimental vibe they give off, Pooh and the other residents in the Hundred Acre Wood represent my feelings in so very many situations.

And so here, as represented by Pooh and company**, is how I feel when . . .

When a paragraph I’m attempting to edit just seems completely beyond my grasp.

Pooh editing

When I’m trying to remember why the hell I came into the kitchen. Am I getting food for someone? Was I going to write something on the grocery list that I will forget otherwise, because as we can all see, I have a FANTASTIC memory.

Pooh Think

When I’m thinking maybe I shouldn’t be wearing a bikini this year. Nah. I’ll just rock the mombod like a motherfucker.

Pooh Belly



Pooh Haters

When I’m at a restaurant and thinking about the delicious, delicious food that I ordered, which I didn’t cook. And I have a glass of wine. And there’s a possibility of brownies later. And everything is perfect in the world.

Pooh Food Dance

When the dog has been under my feet every time I turn around, the baby won’t nap for more than 45 minutes despite being exhausted, I haven’t gotten anything productive done, and I just can’t face making dinner. And then I go outside and talk to my neighbor who has TWO kids. And we’re just kinda like YEP, but somehow that makes us feel better.

Pooh bad day


When Robin and I are both kind of acting like weirdos, but that’s okay, because we’re weirdos who get each other. And would you like to be a weirdo with us, please?

Pooh and Piglet are weird


When it’s Saturday and I poke Robin to go get the baby so I can sleep for another hour. Because he’s very nice.

Pooh sleepy

*That is one doozy of a sentence, if I do say so myself.
**As the images render obvious, I am referring to the Disney incarnation of the characters with which I grew up. I did not encounter the original A. A. Milne version until adulthood, and it always seems a bit odd and sad to me for some reason.

All .gifs from 


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