I am an exercise-bulimic survivor or anorexic survivor. I was labeled as both by the physicians and nutritionist that treated me during this dark time. These old demons come back sometimes subtly, sometimes fiercely. I also have other “isms” but today, for a short moment,  I will focus on this “minion-to-demon” creature that lies on a hammock in my brain.

The ONE truest thing I have learned about nutrition/food is do not believe the hype.  If it’s too “good” or too “bad” to be true, it probably is or is not the truth. The minute I “restrict” some “food” based on the newest “craze”, (I.e breads grains yes EVEN SUGAR!) is the the minute I go stark raving mad and end up eating more than I needed and eating from emotional pain. I would much rather have a peaceful mind than a perfect body.

I know, “What’s up with the dang air quotes Scrappie?” I have to generalize because the amount of examples I could provide would make my ADHD spin and I would spent the next four hours Googling “the dangers x,y & z food” . I simply cannot spiral into a world where I am paralyzed by food choices. Been There, Done That, it’s really a shitty place to rent.

I apologize to all the waitstaff I interrogated about my food preparation or for scaring my Dad for running at 2am, in the streets of Boston. By myself.  an 80 lb crazed lunatic of defenseless, foodless adrenaline. I thank the Guardian angel that silently ran beside me, helping my twisted ankles heal so I could safely return home, each twilight. I am sure I have more amends to make during my boney reign of terror, but the wide eyed looks of bewilderment on waitstaffs’ and my Dad’s faces alike, are painfully clear  to me right now.

I am  irritated with the health and fitness industry for catering how exercise and restrictive eating makes us  “look” versus how it makes us “feel” and HOW it can help our OVERALL MENTAL AND PHYSICAL HEALTH. Of course,  I want to feel good about how I look, but when I see a scantily clad fitness model, butt cheeks hanging out, and flexing with a Carrot Stick in between her teeth captioned “Abs are made in The Kitchen” , it actually makes me nauseous and sad.

I have to rephrase the beginning of the last paragraph. I do not believe you have to practice restrictive eating habits and ‘reedunkulous’ exercise routines to impact your OVERALL MENTAL AND PHYSICAL HEALTH. What I am trying to say is, I’m frustrated with this message that is being sent by some leaders in the health and fitness industry. When I do see this type of message, I try to block it from my social media path and try to block it from my brain.

I LOVE intense cardiovascular exercise. Love it. I love to bike, jog, kick box , dance, bur-pees; all of it, and I could become obsessed with any of it , if I do not keep myself in check. I do not love yoga or strength training but I balance a little bit of everything because I know it’s good for my overall health and yes, I must admit stretching and yoga “stuff” feels good if I am perfectly honest with myself.

“What spurred this blog and where am I going with my story? Food shaming on social media.  Yes, you are darn right I’m oversensitive about being over-informed with which foods are going to turn me into a cocaine addict or how my kids are going to get cancer if I make one wrong decision at the grocery store. (yes I am exaggerating).

I am tired  seeing pictures of a Coke can labeled “Obesity” as a parody to their new marketing campaign, in name of “health promotion”.  I do not want to know about the McDonald’s hamburgers that survived  your latest scientific health experiment.

Clean Eating. Who came up with this term?  So anyone that eats out of a “box” or eats “white” flour or whatever is not grown by your restrictive healthy guidelines is eating “dirty?” or “cheating”?? This truly does not seem like a healthy message to send go anyone ESPECIALLY , young adults, who are very active on social media.

One out of five/seven kids go hungry in the US every day*.  The dichotomy between the health/fitness/diet industry and the poverty levels of Americans who do not have enough to eat, makes my head mushy and steam comes out of my ears. Therefore, to stay in the solution and away from the ‘soapboxbitchfest’,  I am going to leave to links that raise awareness on this issue.** (below)

There are more inspirational ways to reach people who need help in learning how to eat healthy and exercise regularly. Food Shaming and making people feel like shit because they are overweight is not inspirational or motivational. Maybe I am the only one who feels like this , but I can guarantee you if there are any other eating disordered (over-eaters, over- exercisers under-eaters etc) people who see this in their news-feed, I’m guessing they are getting pretty annoyed or even retreating into their disease with the “health-scolding” via social media.

This is my “angriest” blog written to date. I HATE to offend or make people angry or especially hurt people’s feelings. Lately I have realized, I will never  grow as a writer if I am constantly worried about people being angry because they did not like my views.  I am not an angry person, but I am passionate and sometimes its difficult to translate that message perfectly.  I attribute this blog to those writers who have inspired me to be more honest, through their passionate blogs; specifically Baby Sideburns, The Bloggess, Rosie Smartie Pants, We don’t Chew Glass, Drifting through My Open Mind and a girl named Sasha who is always commenting on my blog, and I am embarrassed because I can’t find her blog right now, so if you read this , please please link your blog in the comments!!!

No Kid  Hungry:

http://www.nokidhungry.org/problem/hunger-facts

Women’s Health Feed Run, sent to me from a dear runner friend:

http://run10feed10.com/home/?product_code=WMH01&smartcode=#!/main

Bloggers mentioned above who inspire me:

the Bloggess: http://thebloggess.com/

Baby Sideburns:  http://www.chicagonow.com/baby-sideburns

Rosie Smartie Pants: rosiesmrtiepants.wordpress.com

We Don’t Chew Glass: wedontchewglass.wordpress.com

Drifting through my Open Mind:  http://driftingthrough.com/

 
image

a picture. bc pintrest keeps just posting my avatar.
 

Seriously, if you could walk inside my brain you would be like “OMG. I HATE ROLLER COASTERS”. It’s REALLY busy in there.   I look forward to sleep because it means I am able to stop my brain from circling around like a tornado. I know deep in my soul I am a “writer” because I am always talking to myself, fighting with myself, directing myself, or having full blown debates WITH MYSELF on whether or not I have pushed the wrinkle shield on the dryer four or five times today.   Due  to the summer and “mom life”, I have been seriously side tracked like that runaway train in Unstoppable. I am NOT complaining.  The best way to describe what I am feeling right now can be explained as follows (especially to women because we seem to struggle with this scenario more than men):

  • You get a normal rhythm going with moderate healthy eating and exercise (I say moderate because I tend to get all obsessive about these things and moderation is really the only way I can stay sane)
  • Something happens (the eclipse. Kayne Marries Kim.  You get sidetracked with a debate on whether Beyonce is “all dat” or not, or you get sick..You know lifey stuff
  • The “hiccup of derailment”  catapults into days. weeks. month. You start eating cheetos for breakfast.  You count the “Insanity” Info-Mercial as “exercise”.

You get my point.  Once you get off that routine, you start psyching yourself out to STAY OFF because you are pissed at yourself for getting off in the first place and then you just let the “hiccup of derailment” become  a paralysis of production.  This is precisely what has occurred with my writing.  Yes, I have been  updated my journal but lets face it guys, I can’t even read what I wrote.   One of my entries is as follows:

Roman Numeral 56:  August 24th, Sprayed shower head outside of the shower. mess.  exercise ball bust tread. difficulty “ganning”?  thots.

I will spare you poor souls who are trapped reading my stream of consciousness writing, by not transcribing any more of my journal entries. (You want to stop reading my blog, but you just cannot stop, I’m like a four hour Lifetime movie)  Let me translate:  On August 24th,  I became misguided with which shower-turning-apparatus to utilize and the detachable shower-head was pointing out beyond the shower door. Needless to say, I was on the inverted loop part of my roller coaster brain and rather than JUST TURNING THE SHOWER OFF, I took way to long to reach up (on my tippie tippie toes because I’m vertically challenged) to BARELY commence the cessation of Niagara Falls onto my bathroom floor.  Additionally, my son felt it would be a fabulous idea to put the exercise-ball on the treadmill and hit ZOOM, in which it got trapped under treadmill and exploded. I will say , I had to hide my laughter when telling him that these are not appropriate extra curricular activities in the the basement.  My friend of four high spirited children responded with a “ROFL” text when I told her this story.

Do you know how many emails I have sent to myself to be filed under my gmail label “Writing ideas”? SIX HUNDRED TWENTY!!!  and the majority of these ideas were in the last couple of months. Writing prompts are my Kryptonite because I am a WALKING WRITING PROMPT!   I also thought it would be a fabulous idea to FIND writing contests to enter in an effort to feel like a more “productive writer”.   I think that last sentence was uttered out loud to my   husband which triggered a “head in his hands head shake” and the exclamation  “FOR THE LOVE OF MANKIND!! JUST FREAKING WRITE LAURIE!”

I am a solution oriented person. Yes it takes me a little bit longer to find a solution but I’m a scrappie, determined fighter, mixed with a philosophical-debating-furrowed-brow chromosome where my thoughts go to war with each other like the dudes from that movie 300.  (Apparently the latter of that sentence is now referred to as “RBF or Resting Bitch Face”, which I find HYSTERICAL because there is no guesswork in pinpointing when I am lost in my thoughts).    I do not want to say “I’m too smart for my own good”, because as referenced above from the  Suburban-Mom-Psycho-incident , that clearly isn’t the case.  In an effort to stay in the solution, I am going to list  acitivies that I will STOP doing immediately deter me from writing:

  • Reading the comments section on controversial blog topics  – People seem to take out their repressed child hood anger on bloggers via the  comment sections. I have had nightmares of an angry polemicist finding my blog and slicing me to pieces  with his/her verbal mastery.
  • Reading the comments section on high-profile Facebook posts/topics –  I am scared for all mankind and I feel like building a bunker and going into hiding after such an activity.
  • Googling “Does Kelly Ripa Eat Carbs”
  • Comparing myself to other MOMS.
  • Watching the “Anaconda” video and weeping like a baby because Sir Mix A Lot’s “Baby Got Back” has been forever ruined, and probably won’t be played at my retirement home in twenty five years.
  • Staring at my 620 writing prompts and saying “eff-it I just do not even know where to START,  omg, Sea-Salt-Gelato sounds so good right now!”
  • Taking Vanilla Ice’s  prose literally:  “If there is a problem, yo I’ll solve it” in thinking I can and need to solve the world’s problems, ESPECIALLY on Facebook (blog about my Facebook hiatus later..) tragedies  unfold at an alarming pace in our world and I absorb it ALL.
  • Obsessively cleaning.  I have to find a balance between “eff-it” and “Mommie Dearest episodes of the Clorox Rave party”
  • “Am I a good writer?” NEEDS to be eliminated from my thought process and from my vernacular

 

And No, I am not drinking.

 

 

 

 

 

I find myself stopping a blog or discontinuing or not publishing because I am never quite sure how much information I should delve out there on the internet.   I think the struggle for me in writing (and in life) is with my indecisive nature and the good news it’s fueled some Jerry McGuire moments where I am up at 3 am the past few mornings because my brain jolts awake and will NOT turn off.   
Writers??!!
What do we do when our brain WILL NOT TURN OFF? 
WE WRITE!!! 
Listed below are the 10 decisions or what I like to call “Projectile Vomiting into the future Incidents” that I am churning over in my head like a gerbil. at 3 am.

1)  What if I do not protect my children from the evils of the world and bad things happen to my family. I have “gerbalized” every scenario. (New word – gerbalize or gerbalizing is worrisome thoughts running around in one’s head on a gerbil wheel. Webster, come get me!).    I am strangely fascinated with the Final Destination movies, and I have seen #1 and #25  (aren’t there like 500 out already) and I have come to the conclusion I should NOT watch movies about FREAK accidents and Death as a  Stalker.

2) HOW many extra curricular activities should I sign my kids up for during the school year and how many  _______ Mommies am I willing to deal with in this process? Essentially, it is all about MY comfort levels right? (insert sarcasm) Does catapulting off the sofa and ripping the cushions out by their seams count as a sport?  Does putting chocolate milk into a WATER GUN and squirting it all over the walls and floor count as a sport? (in my defense, I was not home, my husband was on conference calls, and I was like: “WITH WHO? DR DRE? AND YOUR NOISE CANCELLING DRE BEATS? BC WE BETTER HAVE BEEN BROKERING A 4 BILLION DOLLAR DEAL TO HAVE IGNORED THE CHOCOLATE MILK APOCALYPSE!!!”

3) Have you seen the Goldbergs?  Well I find myself saying things like Mrs Goldberg when it comes to the “protection” of my children.  These are  are from the “memory recall” part of my brain, which is not all “ginkobiloabed” properly:
a)  On wrestling: “Did you hear about ________, he had a wrestling accident and now he is just a head on a ventilator”

b) On Halloween: “Don’t forget to bring all your candy to the hospital so we can have it x-ray’d for razor blades”

Yes, these are eerily similar to the things that come out of my mouth.   My son has pretty much told the entire neighborhood that I am the most overprotective Mom in THE WORLD.

4) I don’t know if this is a reason but it’s kind of what started this whole blog in a way. Yesterday, I took my daughter to a cheer-leading place to see what is was all about. I was a cheerleader for a small rural High School and I kind of got into all that from an athletic standpoint, but cheering in the rural North versus cheer-leading near the perimeter of Atlanta, Georgia are like  meditative Yoga versus Olympic style Cross-Fit.   All I can say is I came home and ate a giant bowl of pasta like a Mob Boss because I was so stressed out after that experience.  I do not feel, as a family, we are ready for that level of commitment due in part to the   “contract wording”:   “Your child must be awaiting transport of an iron lung from IRON MAN himself (or the other guy who plays IRON MAN)  if she/he is to miss practice”.

5) Due to # 4, I decided that “Intro to Gymnastics” was probably a better place to start.  Well , I spent like 5467098 hours on the internet trying to finagle my way through the various schedules in conjunction with my stay at ‘home-mom-bon bon-eating’ schedule. I just counted, I sent FIVE, emails  the the poor gymnastics people which openings like this “Wait, we can’t do Mondays because of this?” or “Oh ooops I made a mistake we can do Mondays”?    or “No wait, we can’t do Monday’s, can you call me I’m really confused about the schedule”.

6) Seriousness.  I know deep down inside 95% percent of my anxiety over raising children and all of this is due to me trying to protect my children from the “bad things” that happened in my childhood.  We all have baggage and unresolved dysfunction from our upbringing, and all I really want to do is use my experiences, (good and bad), to provide the best possible childhood for my children and I guess I try to do this (sometimes..) without making ANY mistakes.

7)  Ok, so being so ridiculously “self aware” at age 42 to the point that my husband reaches for his cigars every time I try to “feel my feelings” appropriately, I recognize that #6 may have spurred me into a bit of a “I FELL LIKE THE WEIGHT OF THE FREE WORLD IS ON MY SHOULDERS!!” phone conversation with my husband last night.   Thankfully my husband is very level-headed and does a great job in making me realize that I’m not making life or death decisions and I just “NEED TO CALM THE EFF DOWN ITS NOT THAT SERIOUS!!”

8) My son just got this   mouth-spacer-head-contraption-head-robot type thing in which I have to attach to his mouth nightly (well they said daily too when he’s on the computer or watching tv)  and remember to turn a key into the spacer-contraption-thingy so it widens his jaw, and now I have 54895175094128745091274 reminders on my phone, calendar, sticky notes, etc in which to do so. daily. “BUT WHAT IF I FORGET AND HE DOES NOT HAVE PERFECT TEEEEEEEEEEEEETHHHHHH.”

9) I was trying to calculate “something” last night and my phone (the calculator) was upstairs which was far too strenuous to fetch; THEREFORE, I proceeded to write a long division problem out on a piece of scratch paper and realized that I basically forgotten how to complete long division and long multiplication (is that even a thing??) and when I did go to find my phone, it was on top of their college saving statements which then made me realize that college is going to be a BILLION DOLLARS, so unless my husband brokered that contract with Dre from # 2, we are not going to be able to afford college and then I panicked because WHAT IF I CAN’T HELP THEM WITH MATH? AND NOW I’M PANICKING BECAUSE THIS SENTENCE IS A GRAMMATICAL RUN ON NIGHTMARE, SO WHAT IF I CAN’T HELP THEM WITH LANGUAGE ARTS?

10) I have written out ten number 10’s and they all sound really bizarre and I still struggle with the decision of how much to “put out there”  on the internet.    I definitely do want to share my work with the world but I also have issues in the past with people thinking like they know me extremely well, due to a friendship on social media, and quite frankly, it taps into a lot of codependent dysfunction ( see!!!!  I have learned “something” from all my Self Awareness Readings!!!!)

In closing, I’m literally out of words. I think that the run-on sentence of #9 , fried my brain.

 

 

the Rollercoaster Summer.

Posted: July 16, 2014 in humor

I have about a dozen half written blogs. It has been an eventful summer. I just have not have the fortitude to bring any of them to completion. Medicine changes for Momma. My fiercely independent daughter. My incredibly sensitive and defiant son. A million doctors and orthodontic appointments. The constant looming thought of “Am I doing this correctly?” or “WTF am I DOING?” when it comes to parenting. I quit Facebook for a month because it was sending my anxiety into overdrive. (I will have a delicious blog about that topic) A 10 year old SUV that makes a strange whistling sound from time to time so I just close my eyes and say a little prayer that it will just “go away”.

Divine inspiration cascaded down upon me (ok I know it’s not all about me..but it sure did feel divinely inspired) and I met a fabulous babysitter for my children. She is with them right now and this is literally the first moment since the beginning of summer I have had to type anything out on the computer except for paying bills, sometimes late.. I hope we do not scare her off. Momma needs these breaks.

I saw a instagram photo that said “Write something today, even if it sucks”. So I did. Time to go pay bills. I love my kids dearly and have enjoyed spending every waking moment with them this summer, but I have to admit, I am looking forward to WRITING WRITING AND WRITING when they go back to school. I just could not seem to get the hang of it while they were home with me. My brain does not multi-task, literally AT ALL.

When the topic of “child-rearing” comes to the forefront, I get hot and prickly.  Instead of turning the air conditioning to 50 or moving myself into the grocery store cooler, I decided to write about it because writing is my therapy, it’s my release, it’s how I control my Rolodex brain.

The inspiration for this blog?  I recently read an article about how the Whooping Cough was an epidemic in California and  in the blog it stated it was a direct result of people choosing to not vaccinate their children. (see link below).     What was so incredibly disturbing about this blog, was the parents’ vehemence towards each other on the topic. Especially the pro-vaccination side, and I’m pro-vaccination. I was appalled at how nasty the comments were towards the people who do not vaccinate.   Yes, it distresses me that diseases are coming back and some say that  scientific evidence has proven that it to be a direct result of people not vaccinating their children.  All I can say that is if my child contracts a deadly disease, as a result of being around un-vaccinated children, and I vaccinated my children, I would be incredibly upset and want to point my fingers in a thousand directions.

However, lately, I decided, when I get inwardly steamed about a controversial subject, I am trying to do the opposite of overreacting and commenting wildly on Facebook. (you know you have done it..:) . I am trying to bring my inner Dali Lama to the forefront and find a medium in which we can agree to disagree and really try to support each other as we raise our children in this world.

An additional caveat inspiration,  the petition to comb Jay-Z and Beyoncé’s daughter’s hair was the most ridiculous criticism of another person’s parenting I have seen in a while, maybe in my life.   I don’t care who they are, they are human and the paparazzi is ruthless. Leave that child alone.

As a society, I feel like parents;  women especially, could do a much better job in supporting each other when it comes to how parents chose to provide for and raise their children. There are 500 different scenarios, and I do not think I have to list them all out because any parent that’s pouring love out of their heart to raise their children is a parent I support.   Why does it have to be a competition? Why are SAHP (stay at home parents) cast as a certain stereotype and working parents cast as another?  There are perks and insurmountable obstacles of all types of scenarios in raising kids.  It  is difficult enough to raise kids, without some blogger, polemicist or negative Nancy poking holes in your juju.  (no disrespect to Nancy, it just went with word negative) I have worked since I was 11.  I worked upwards of 18 hours a day before I had kids. I worked part time on three separate occasions after I had kids, and I simply could not make it work with my husband’s schedule. Why is the SAHP cast as the unproductive bon bon eating stereotype? Why is the working parent cast as a stereotype that doesn’t nurture their children as much as the SAHP?

I parent the way that I do because it feels right in MY gut, and below is a list of what I think we as parents can do to support each other in parenting:.

For the record, I have probably criticized every one of these items in my head or out loud. Through some personal growth, I am realizing that when I criticize another person in general,  my own inner insecurities are rearing their monstrous head. My criticisms of anyone or anything, has everything to do with my issues and little or nothing to do with their issues.   My point, stop throwing stones in the glass house and start using some Windex together.

 

1)  How many extra curricular activities (I.e. sports) their children are involved in and  Thankfully , because of some of the work I have done on myself, I’m less likely to parent my children based on “comments” made by other parents.

2) How a parent disciplines their children.  Aside from physical, emotional abuse and neglect, how you (or as a family unit) chose to discipline your children is YOUR BUSINESS.  You are in the shoes 24/7, not the onlooker.

For example, helping a parent who lost sight of her child for fifteen seconds (rather than scolding them with looks of disdain or remarks of disapproval)  may be a better approach in a situation where you truly feel like a parent can  benefit from your help or advice.   This actually JUST happened to me today.   A small child ran away from his Mom and I happened to be there to catch him before he went into the street.  The Mom was sprinting, breathless, panicked, distraught and terrified.  I simply said  “is this little guy yours?” smiled warmly and joined their hands.  If it hasn’t happened to you, then you are  lucky. Toddlers are fast and we are human. My point is, most parents know when they effed up, so giving them “tips” or making “comments”  usually isn’t helpful. At all.

3) STAYING HOME TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR CHILDREN. Enough Said.

4) WORKING TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR CHILDREN. Enough Said.  Both scenarios have their pros and cons. Stop trying to win the argument because there should not even be an argument anymore. It takes a Village.

5) BEING A SINGLE PARENT. Enough Said.  I know my Dad struggled with this feat for many many years.

6)Being A Gay Parent.  How is “gayness” affecting the child? or your child? If you associate being “gay” with being perverse,  that’s your problem.

7) Home Schooling your Children. Sending your Children to Private School. Sending your children to Public School.   I personally could not home school my children because I substituted as a preschool teacher and I learned very quickly that it’s simply not in my DNA and I would be performing an injustice to their education.

8) What type of religion , if any, is taught in the home.   I do my best to teach my children what I know, I bought them “cartoon-esque”  bibles so they have a basic understanding of Christianity, but essentially it is their decision to believe in what they want to believe in for themselves. I  believe in a Higher Power of my understanding, I want them to come to understand what that means to them on their own terms.

9) How many chores your kids do around the house or if they earn an allowance.   Again,  you are not in the parents’ shoes 24/7, you are the onlooker.   What works for some , may not work for others.

10) I’m backtracking a bit, but breastfeeding. I did not breastfeed, I tried and had to stop. No, I am not going to buy another mom’s milk over the internet or even next door.  Yes I do know how fabulous it is/was for the baby.   I applaud the women who breastfed and breastfeed.  The people who are not breastfeeding or did not breastfeed DO NOT WANT TO HEAR YOUR OPINIONS and “BREASTMATION” (projectile vomiting of information on breast milk). Save it for your Breastfeeding groups and people who want to hear the information.  I speak from experience and most moms I know who also did not breastfeed, DID NOT COME UPON THE DECISION LIGHTLY.  Many tears were shed over my decision to formula feed my children.

 

OKAY ONE MORE 11)

JUST BEING THEMSELVES. I am around a lot of moms. The most common thing I hear is that they are so tired of being judged and tired of feeling like they are losing themselves in what other people THINK they should be doing. Why are we so damn hard on each other, aren’t we hard enough on ourselves???  Whether you are a strict parent, a funny parent, a fly by the seat of your pants- parent,  cook three meals a day for your kid parent,  kids were potty trained at 18 months or 5  years, parent (which, by the way, has NOTHING to do with you..so stop stressing if you are potty training right now, the child I spent less time agonizing over, was the child who trained quickly and had less issues)  organized pintrest guru parent, handy parent, dramatic parent, etc!!! , I think the worst thing we can do to each other as parents is criticize each other!

 

Have you hugged another parent today?

 

* Article on Whooping Cough

http://gizmodo.com/whooping-cough-is-now-a-full-blown-epidemic-in-californ-1590895772?utm_campaign=socialflow_gizmodo_facebook&utm_source=gizmodo_facebook&utm_medium=socialflow

In a world that screams “be better, faster, stronger, thinner, happier, healthier, smarter, bouncier, boingier, etc”, we become our own worst critic. I believe in change, but not when it threatens the acceptance of who we are at  our core of beautiful personalities, which makes us special, unique, quirky and dynamic.

The most tumultuous battles I fight are with myself are because I’m not measuring up with what “I think” people need me to be doing, saying or being at this very moment.  “PEOPLE PLEASING” is a disease and it can literally kill your soul, your creativity, drive addicts to use again, incite aggression and make people mentally breakdown. I know from experience that when I am not being true to myself and my beliefs and I’m “buying in” to what other people are “selling” (metaphorically and literally) and I am not listening to my gut instincts, I end up in situations of regret and resentment.

Yes, we absolutely need to be considerate, kind and strive to help out our fellows. It is the times when we extend ourselves to others in full self abandonment, we end up on an empty gas tank forgetting to “fill~up” the most important person in the relationship equation, ourselves.  Self ~ Love does not mean becoming a doormat for others and saying “yes” to every request and demand. People who truly love us want us to say “No” or let our voices be heard.  People who thrive on YOUR “people pleasing”, are not loving you, they are using and manipulating you to gain something for themselves.

So why is Funny Lady Scrappie-Momma being so serious? I have been doing a lot of soul~searching, trying to find the real cause of my anxiety. I , like many, suffer from anxiety, depression and “projectile~future~vomiting”. Trust me , its LIGHT YEARS better than it was in my twenties and even thirties.  The truth is, the more peace I feel daily,  the more PEACE I need to feel daily,  and to shut the mental wars in my mind that occur in my brain.  I can create a tornado of distress in the middle of a sunshine filled day if I do not keep the “projectile~future~vomit” “inner voices in check.

I grew up with a lot of chaos. I finally provided a glimpse of my horrendous foster care  and schizophrenic Mom stories with my son and his response was “Wow, Mom you are the most interesting person I know!”..Wow, what a revelation,  rather than feeling shame or trepidation from my roller coaster childhood, I have amazing knowledge, strength and passion I can share my story in hopes to help others overcome barriers to full inner peace. (book!)  For me, when I feel peace, my brain is wired to say “OH SNAP, THIS SHIT ABOUT TO GET REAL, WAIT FOR IT SOMETHING INSANE ABOUT TO POP OFF BRO” (because my inner voice is most definitely a hip hop artist) . The reason my brain is wired like this is because for thirty years, it’s exactly how it happened for me!

In my childhood and through adulthood something “popped off” every one, two, to three years without fail. In a mirage of inconsistency, the one driving constant for me was turbulence.  Foster care, death, suicide,  divorce, alcoholism, anorexia,  etc. etc, either circumstantial or of my own , and at the time I thought, innocuous creations.  After 18, I definitely would subconsciously create sabotage, drama and mayhem because I thrived on burning the candle with a million ends. I use the terms innocuous and subconscious because I had developed my very own PHD from the”auto-pilot-drama” academy, where I was the student, teacher and graduate, completely oblivious to the sabotage I created for myself and to those around me.

In closing, this blog post started out as a Facebook post on my blog page I lose people after 140 characters and it took on a venue of its own.  The only goal I have for myself is to do things that bring me PEACE. I SIMPLY cannot be the Mom trying to outpace other Mom’s in whatever societal race we have created to raise Super Children. I cannot buy into the sensationalistic articles ( if you read them all, which I did for two years as a “health~coach”)  ,after all deductions and conclusions of said reading, I surmise facetiously, Organic Kale is the only food that won’t kill us. As Jim Gaffigan so eloquently stated in his recent stand up Obsessed, “Kale tastes like bitter spinach and hair”, and  after MANY attempts to try and like Kale, I have to agree. I just don’t like kale.

 

 

 

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I recently saw a few blogs on why Facebook is literally causing depression. I get it.   We only show the highlight reel and for someone who may not be having ANY highlight reel to show at this very moment, it is depressing.  Its like the time when my husband brought me  six magazines of “How Celebrities got their  Body back in 2 days After Baby” , after my second child (It truly was honest mistake, really, I told him to grab me celebrity-gossipy-mindless magazines and apparently it was Baby season).

It may be the linked articles to warn people of the dangers of the world that are causing anxiety and depression. Some of them help me; for example, there was one about how to spray my children with vinegar to ward of ticks and  that calmed my bug phobia for about five seconds. There are certain articles that I am very happy to read and there are certain articles I do not  need to be reading because it just feeds  my phobia and anxiety.

Listed below are what goes on behind all my  gleeful pictures.   I’m guilty of only posting the highlight reel on Facebook (or Instagram) because that’s human nature.  Although, I do post pictures of toilet paper rolls and paper towel rolls not on their appropriate rod because we are much too busy of a family to be bothered with all that nonsense.

1) My kids only brush their teeth once a day. I’m working on it, it just is what it is right now.

2) I use real cream and drink real coffee in the morning. GASP.   For me, it’s more than coffee, It’s about memories, the aroma, the greetings to my children as I’m pouring a cup “GET UP NOWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!”, choosing the perfect cup, the sip/slurp sound, the deep breaths, did I already say the aroma?    With the advent of our society fighting obesity (which I think is awesome), people are giving up EVERYTHING but nuts and twigs.  For me,    I HAVE to be in the middle of the road, the clown in the passenger seat in the way back of the tiny car, and on the Wall of Gaylord (see Meet the Fockers) when it comes to just about anything.   (elaboration below)**

3) I do not sit up straight at the computer.  I have improved my posture overall (because it used to be atrocious) but at the computer , when I’m in the zone, like a computer programmer (which I am not AT ALL ,see previous blogs, re computer murderer), I end up slouching , a lot , mostly because I can’t see the screen very well which brings me to …..

4) I really need to be wearing reading glasses because I squint a lot at the computer too; hence the reason why I can’t sit perfectly straight at the perfect distance from the computer.  Like right now, I’m really trying, man.

5) My kids are not voracious readers, writers, athletes, “mathletes”, gymnasts,  or dancers. They play in the soccer league that gives out trophies for showing up and yes I have read the articles about how “awful” some people think giving out trophies to everyone is for a child. Really? that is what you think is awful with our society?  Trust me, my kids face plenty of rejection and obstacles, I am not too worried about “trophy disease” harming their adulthood.    My opinion is PUSHING them   24/7 is only going to backfire.  I do involve them in sports etc, and have them read and write some in the summer, but it is light years away from any kind of Tiger Mom style of parenting, or even in my neighborhood for that matter.

6)   I do not have an elaborate chore system for my children.    I keep it extremely basic. No fancy Pint-rest boards of chores with bedazzled clothes pins and 4-D stickers and mishmashes of crafts that mark their achievements in CHORE-LAND.  I HAVE TRIED WITH CHORE-LAND and almost super-glued myself to the chore chart.  We ended up with a skinny lizard (he goes on hunger strikes)  because of Crafty Chore time.   Right now, I have a sticky note on the fridge that indicates, they can earn one dollar for three basic chores, and one of them is cleaning their room which some people think is ridiculous.  I grew up with way more chores than I personally think should have been placed on a young child, and for the most part, it did not really help prepare me for much of anything other than anxiety about germs.

7)  On the flip side, I’m terrified to let my nine year old ride around the neighborhood with his friends. Most kids my son’s age in are riding their bikes in the neighborhood,  and I do not know where I stand with this right now. I trust him, it’s the cars going 75 miles an hour on a a subdivision strip, I do not trust.  I am NOT judging the moms that allow their kids to do this at ALL. I know it’s my own fears and  trepidations, all I am saying is I am working through this debacle as we speak, right now.

8) I a bit of a “yeller.” Yes, when I get frustrated, especially in the summer, I do yell , maybe at the computer, or at the mess, or even at the kids.  I do not scream, or maybe once or twice ;), but I do raise my voice. I try to get down on their level, but I’m human and I get frustrated and I yell.

9) I can not fix my daughters hair. Giant bows fall out. Braids look like dread locks.  9/10, even if I do get it right , she has it all in her face within an hour.

10) Even though I have a phobia of my house being “clean”, it’s usually fairly messy. My kids are messy.  It’s very strange, the toilets are sparkling, but my house is kind of messy,  compared to images we see on Facebook. I’m guilty , I showed an immaculate picture of my son’s room after I re-organized one fall., Seriously, it stayed like that for five minutes, and then I get frustrated and yes I yell,  because their rooms get messy all, the time, but I don’t give them a trophy  for cleaning their room.

I guess I need to make an more elaborate chore chart for the whole family.

Footnotes:

* I actually try to use with coconut creamer and coconut sugar mixed with regular cream, (I know it’s highly complicated scenario but have you read my blogs? ) to be “more healthy”.

**Articles, blogs & Memes that center on “perfection”,  “No Excuses”,   “Train Lean, Eat Clean”, “ABS are made in the kitchen” ,”Accept nothing less than the BEST”, etc etc,  usually end up hidden in my news feed. I get it, it’s my issue.  I am a recovering anorexic and recovering alcoholic. I simply can not get caught up in feeling like who I am or what I am doing is less than what I should be doing at any given time or I will want to go back to bad habits. I applaud the 18 ab~ pack mom with 75 kids who works out  relentlessly and runs her own MLM business then captions it with a “What’s Your Excuse” Meme, BRAVO, but it does NOTHING to inspire me.

1) My kids are out of school.

2) I absolutely give myself an F in multitasking.

3) Seriously, I can’t walk and chew gum, it’s that bad.

4) When I start to get worked about about my “to do” list, it freaks me out and I get anxiety around the kids, which leads me to ..

5) I start comparing myself to Moms who have a 18 ab-pack, “stay at home” and “run a business”, or “work part time” or  “run a charity” or  cook, bake, dance, dust, plant, and ferberized all their children by the time they were three months. Even feberized the neighbors children and almost got them to feberize my children too, but 6 and 9 YEARS were above the cut in feberization training.*

6) When I start comparing, I get cranky. When I get cranky, I furrow my brow. When I furrow my brow, I have to set aside MORE MONEY for my future Botox treatments (no I haven’t had any..), because I already have the Victor Newman/Clark Gable deep forehead wrinkles that look fascinating on a man and not so much on a woman.

Caveat – I  need to be set  aside ALL our Botox money for college because according to the internet,  we are all dying from melting ice caps caused by the private jet plane fuel from the ostentatious Kimye** wedding,  GMO’s*** are in EVERYTHING, political controversy  gridlocks sneezing now and seriously, we are all going to die very soon. Bottom line,  the world will soon dissipate via spontaneous combustion because it gets clogged with TOO MANY KARDASHIAN** SHOWS, by the time my kids will be pursing their studies; thus, they will be receiving their education on Mars.

7) Did you read # 6? That’s pretty much any one of my “million” “complete” thoughts in a single day. It is kind of a miracle that I can blog , AT ALL really. You should see my writing scrapbook and journal. I can’t read half of what I hand- wrote. It’s fun, it’s like learning a new language when I go back and read stuff. I mean, I caveat my itemized lists?  WHO DOES THAT? Yes, I EVEN YELL AT MYSELF IN ALL CAPS IN MY JOURNAL.

8) I’m writing a book too,  I can’t multitask.   Like right now, the word count got stuck on that evil number and it wouldn’t move so it really freaked me out so I just started typing gibberish until the word count thing moved, and yeah, that’s kind of how my brain works.

9) In addition to my two children, we have a bearded dragon, name Echo who seems to go on some kind of hunger strike every three months. While I initially acquired this pet because a) My son completed some arbitrary task I had been begging him to complete and b) I THOUGHT it would be easier than a dog, he is kind of like having a third child. Oh ok, maybe a 1/2 a child. or 1/2 dog. or 1/2 cat or something.

10) Through all my self- help journeys, ONE MESSAGE, is abundantly clear to me lately is that I need to FREAKING RELAX and not worry about “getting it all done” or “I wonder what so and so thinks” .  When I do not “hold-still” and go a million miles an hour, I end up in a big giant pile of anxiety-produced-goo. In a nutshell, I’m going to take it easy on myself with my writing schedule and everything really, because life is short, and dammit I really thought this blog would be shorter!  I know some of you have my critical, yet short, attention span and if goes over thousand word count, I lose you. I get it!

Summary – I am not going to “sweat the small stuff” (Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff was a college graduation gift, I guess I sweat a lot, wouldn’t a case of Secret been more suitable?)  and as much as I love WRITING ; – blogging/book etc etc, are not  as important as the two and 1/2 mini reptile-humans I have under my roof that will need more of me than normal. :)

 

 

*Ferberization – Please Google it for the non-sarcastic definition. IN a nutshell it means letting your baby cry it out so they sleep 14 hours a night without bothering you and they live amazing, blissful, fabulous lives forevermore because you did not go running to their every wince and need when they were wee babies. . I was the Mom that absolutely could not do this. a) it sound like nail spikes on a chalkboard b) I wanted to sleep and I just couldn’t “tune it out”. I would sleep upright next to my sons crib so he could play with my hair.  I even BOUGHT a barbie doll (because, I did not have a girl YET) and try to prop her up, but the doll was to small and he could pull into crib and choke on a barbie doll so, yeah I don’t recommend the Barbie Doll Sleep Method.

Yes, my children still crawl into our bed very early in the morning..   ( like anywhere from 3 to 5 am)  GASP.   Some people think this is HORRENDOUS. Good Lord is it your bed? Please.  That’s another blog: 10 ways I keep my head from exploding when people without kids give unsolicited parenting advice OR people with kids try to tell you about their amazing parenting skills and they really do not have “many issues” with parenting, at all.  Vomit.

** Kimye -(I got that from Saturday Night Live, it’s Kim & Kayne’s name spliced together. You know from the Kardashians. If you do not know who they are , I applaud you for focusing on much more meaningful worldwide news.)

***GMO – Google it. I’m too exhausted to explain. It’s a “hot topic” so it will pop up maybe before Good Morning America?  (GMA)

 

++++++  Usual Disclaimer: DO NOT TAKE ME SERIOUSLY.  This stuff sounds extremely funny in my head, I have deemed myself a “comedic writer”, but I am too chicken to even attempt stand up. Anyhoo, another writer friend told me that comedic writing does not work well unless it’s narrated verbally, and people just think the writer is “angry”.   That’s so not the case, this is my free therapy and my goal is to make myself laugh at myself and for you to just LAUGH!
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1) I cried laughing when the teacher/ DJ played Jimmy Buffet’s “Jamaica Mistakia,” at the 3rd grade Luau and “A++hole” & “s**tty” were not edited out. That was hours ago and I’m still laughing uncontrollably. No one else was amused. Actually, I don’t think they heard it which I find EVEN FUNNIER.

2) I did not wear my flowing Luau attire, with my gold~lamey~boot~thong (no, not that kind silly) sandals. I wore shorts that I do not remember being as short last year. Either my legs grew (at age 42??) Or my child bearing hips came in nine years too late. And I wore ridiculously high wedges.

3) My sun glasses are NOT cool. Maybe that’s because I have been banned from buying “designer” shades since I misplace, break or dive off boats with them on my head into giant lakes. That’s another blog. Needless to say, my dollar store shades make me look very non~PTO~ish and quite frankly, I don’t think they protect my eyes. I have a screaming headache either from them squeezing my head or them not even shielding the sun.

4) I asked if I could drink one of the bottled waters, under the snack tent, and I felt like I walked up holding Joe Biden’s hand at a Republican convention.

5) I do not say things like “How are you doing baby doll sugar pie honey sweetie” or “Let’s all make sure we make good choices during musical chairs” I’m like “Whatz up son, don’t act a fool now.”

6) I do not hide my discontent if some kid is mean to my kid. I will speak to your child directly about this matter, and there will be no “oh honey child sweetheart” used in my verbiage. No worries, I do not use profanity, but I’m pretty stern. That’s another blog as well,  but it may reason why I have not been “asked” to run for PTO President.

7) I’m really not that social. Yes, I have friends, and I will absolutely make small talk with other Moms, but I do not greet other gold~-lameyed~sandaled Moms with “Heyyyyyy babycakes sugarplums ITSOOOOONICETOSEEEYOUUUUUU” accompanied by giant bear hugs etc etc..Chances are I know you as “so & so’s Mom” and I’m embarrassed because I should probably know your name by now.

8) I do not like bouncy houses. They freak me out, so if I were on the PTO, they would be banned. I would nomister the ban,  second the nomination and ban bouncy houses. I would be known as the PTO Mom who ruined School Parties. I strongly dislike clowns as well….Who held hands with Joe Biden stealing bottled waters at the Republican Convention.

9) I just don’t think I have PTO hair. I can fix the front, but the back of my head, usually lacks any type of “stylin'”. I’m always transfixed by how some of these PTO moms look like they had literally every. Piece. Ironed. Flat. OR expertly. Crafted. Into~a ~”messy”~ curl.

10) I kind of have a two hour window on when I feel like Im going to pass out from exhaustion from being around so many children. I’ve tried. I substituted , I even did Vacation Bible School once (Gasp! I know right? I’m kinda shocked I didn’t spontaneously combust in the church recreational room either!!).  I just don’t have the “you aren’t making good choices” fortitude or DNA. Quite frankly, I most certainly did not make good choices as I child. I was kind of a rebel. A free spirit. A clown. (And I strongly dislike clowns!!); therefore I do not think its wise I direct groups of “youngins” in this manner. 

If you know my blogs, you know I still have not received the manual from the hospital whence my children were born, because the only one I have stopped at three months,!!

“Ok kids! Time for your bottle!!!”

Disclaimer. Please. Do. Not. Take. This. Seriously
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Yeah, I know monks live without stuff, but if you know my writing at all, I  am somewhat facetious so please do not take every word I write, seriously! YES, I do write some serious stuff, but my main goal is to make people LAUGH LAUGH AND LAUGH, be inspired and not take themselves so seriously!!!

As I age, I crave the simpler life.  I yearn for slow walks through antique stores filled with cobwebs, spending hours getting lost in a book, in my pjs, not worrying whether the popcorn I am eating is filled with genetically modified aliens or “Did I eat enough fiber today???”     Life today moves fast and the newest fad is bitching about people using their smartphones to much VIA THEIR SMARTPHONES!!! ‘   The irony of weepy-creepy-music filled videos of people looking down at their smartphones while a tree bristles in the wind, LINKED FROM FROM A SMART PHONE, TO A SMART PHONE PLATFORM makes me kind of Lewis Black cranky because just thinking about it is like those horrendous math problems we had to solve in high school math. It hurts my head.   I GET IT AND I ABSOLUTELY AGREE, WE (I!)  need to disconnect MORE, but send the message BY DISCONNECTING YOURSELF and setting the example, not making these crazy-long-weepy-creepy videos/pictographs, of people using their phones and chastising people for LIVING IN THE MODERN WORLD!

Ok, I got off on a little tangent, I was going to make that whole paragraph above a separate blog, but  tangents are kind of my thing.  A College friend always told me “I just love your stream of consciousness thinking Laurie” .  The paragraph is important because I do and did have a bit of phone problem. I like to write. I like to create. Word Press is on my phone. Therefore I am trying to find a balance and this blog, helps me put things in perspective and writing is my therapy.

Here are 10 things I need:
1) Antiques. Pictured above is my Grandmothers Aunts Baby Daddy’s Victorian Sofa (Okay, maybe not the baby daddy part..) Her furntiure, these antiques, hold a lot of great memories. In fact, I’m pretty sure I was Linda Carter or some force of nature on said sofa, catapulting off with my magical-super-hero-powers  while she yelled “STOP JUMPING OFF THE FURNITURE!”

2) Laughter.  I simply could not survive this earth without a sense of humor.  Anytime I have gone through an entire day and have not laughed means a day where I need to sit down and figure out what the hell is wrong with me.  When I was anorexic and living with my sister, a quote that jolted me into seeking recovery was “One of the saddest things about this whole eating disorder thing is  you have completely lost your awesome sense of humor.”

3) My Family.  Nuclear and extended. Crazy and Sane.  Messy and Miraculous. Through my 42 years, I have lost a brother, mother, grandmother, uncle and more.  Loss sucks and it happens. I get that. I just hope that it happens a bit more naturally is all and that I preserve the memories better than I have in the past.

4) My Friends.  I used to think I didn’t need people. And I’ll admit, when things get blue for me, I want to isolate and shut out the world but the truth is, we all need friends, even if it’s just one.  We need people, and whether you are spiritual or not, scientifically we absolutely can’t live without them for very long.

5) Wrinkle Shield.   I can’t live with out the wrinkle shield on the dryer.  Ironing is like brushing my teeth with mayonnaise and dirt. And I’m not one of those people who is all on top of laundry in the dryer so Thank You Jesus for helping the inventor create the wrinkle shield button.

6) or the dryer and washer. Although, in trying to be simpler, I yearn for a clothes line again, but we live in a subdivision and they would have a coronary-bi-pass-genetically-modified -alien-filled-heart-palpitation if I put a clothes line up in my back yard.

7) Coffee. It’s not even about the caffeine (ok maybe a little). In essence, it’s a quintessential part of my morning ritual. The smell is like honeysuckle in the spring, pine needles in the winter, or the Lavender Lysol-Bleach combo smell during vomit-virus season. It’s COMFORTING and I like it.

8) Yes. The dishwasher. When  my second was 2 months old, ours broke and I told my husband, “Oh I can handle this, I used to hand wash dishes all the time growing up!” Two teeny tiny baby bottles later, I was Googling coupons for all the local appliance stores saying it could be my Christmas, mothers day, birthday, double Christmas present, but I could not live without a dishwasher.

9) Thunderstorms on a hot afternoon.  This is like xanax to me. No I don’t use xanax (anymore).   Seriously, I don’t know if it brings me back to #1, playing Wonder Woman inside because we could not be out side because of the Thunderstorm.  The darker the clouds the better.  No, tornadoes freak me out,  but a good old fashioned non threatening Thunderstorm is like a nap in a hammock for me.

10) My Faith.  I am not RELIGIOUS.\, but I do have a faith in a higher power.   I used to think I need to have a fancy, gilded, bourgeois, fearful relationship with God,     that’s the antithesis of spirituality (for me).  I pray everyday as much as I can, just like I am talking to you, and yes I even swear sometimes. (obviously I don’t like take His name in vain or anything. when I ‘m praying that is.)

 

 

 

 

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1) My kids slept in outfits below and ate cookies for breakfast.

2) My intention was to get everyone to cute little church at and of the road to get OUR PRAISE ON SON!,  today…but,

3) I slept in, ate three breakfasts, watched Adam Sandburg close the season of Saturday Night Live instead.
PS, I only let kids watch a teeny snip it, because I’m a good Mom :)

4) I am on my 5th cup of coffee and have accomplished Zero chores or tasks and I have zero plans to drink a healthy greencrimefightingdeathdryinglifechanging smoothie today.

5) I ALMOST deleted my Joel Olsteen tapings to make room on DVR (by accident!!).  I just love that guy, I will watch later, on my seventh cup coffee.

6)..I overreacted in yelling at my husband telling him not to overreact at my overeactions. Right? ,sounds like a 10th grade math~philosophy test question.

7) I have been brushing my teeth with a
Tiana and The Frog toothbrush designed for four year olds, all week and my new toothbrush is still downstairs on the kitchen counter.

8) I spent way too much time reading about the JayzSolangeBey Gate conundrum versus reading about our local Political candidates.

9) Wait, I don’t regret # 8. Politics is like brushing your teeth with said tootbrush coated in sand, grit, oreos, and mayonnaise.

10) I literally cannot  think of a #10 because I am that unproductive today so I have left my adoring fans with only 9 reasons..maybe 8, because 9 technically does not even count.

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I spent a life time doing this, but not anymore.

If I’ve learned ONE thing, make changes to love and accept yourself but do not bend with the societal wind that tells you that you need a product, a thing, a drink, a drug or whatever, to be better.

I’m a slow learner, I’m stubborn, I may make the same mistake a hundred times before I learn the message; YET, this lesson right here, may be the most important one I have learned. Changing your perception of oneself is an inside job and it may be the most important one you ever have in your life!

If you change to be accepted by or be like others ~ it’s like flat ironing your hair, in the shower, while using curl enhancer all at the same time! I plead the fifth as to whether I have attempted the  aforementioned shower~flat~ironing insanity.

My kids are pictured because I learn so much from their acceptance of themselves and their unabashedly contentious nature to grab life by the horns and not let GO; no matter who tells them what they can and cannot do,including their MOM!!  aka scrappiemomma!

I aim protect them, I make A LOT OF MISTAKES, I’m impatient, I’m scrappie, I’m messy, sometimes I lack the polished filter that most suburban moms seem to carry around like a pink hammer of grace and poise. I feel like I eff up any type of school event or extra curricular activity as in “Um ? wtf am I supposed to be doing because the hospital manual stopped at three months and I’m flying blind?”( case in point ~ forgetting to dress my daughter in her dance costume, for DRESS REHEARSAL because I apparently I didn’t comprehend even the title of the email “DRESS REHEARSAL”. These types of clueless mom shenanigans happen more frequently than expected, and I don’t even drink….)

I’m drifting off tangent a bit. My point, I try to shield them too much from the aching hurts of the world all while knowing that I have to let them spread their wings to ready themselves for a world that in one breath is as miraculous as it is cruel. I guess what I truly wish, through my unwavering love and guidance, is I never, ever, ever break their tenacious spirit or their acceptance of themselves at their inner core, because, that my friends, is the key to true, inner peace.

My 2 cents today.

No disrespect to Micheal Z dawg, because he’s a genius, but am I the only one that gets anxiety after scrolling on Facebook ? There are things I still love about the platform, and I know I personally have comitted many social media sins,   I’m just a little less than amused, ok maybe Lewis Black annoyed with Facebook.

Lets get to it, these are just a sample of posts that literally give me what my Italian friends calls heartburn or “ahhjidaa?”

1) “The blood of the teeth of my savior shall free you if  and only you share this post”

Seriously, I highly doubt this falls into the WWJD category. (What Would Jesus Do). This is not inspiring. Joel Olsteen that isht down please. We need a nice, soft place to land.

2) “I hate my life”.

My nine year old said this yesterday because he got his feelings hurt by his friend. He was legitimately upset but I explained there is absolutely no reason to be “hatin’.  Its okay to be upset, but If my nine year old can’t say it, nor should you because YOU GROWN.

3) The gym “selfies.”

Every once in a blue moon, we get it, you are in good shape..of course you want to show your high school chums you have an eight pack. Have you ever hear the term “less is more”? It applies to those who feel like we need to be reminded, daily, even hourly, that you have a flat stomach, and are very sweaty from your lift session with Mr. & Mrs. bicep.   Remember “ABS~ENCE’ (from the ab shots)  MAKES THE HEART GROW FONDER”

4) The Political diatribes.

I may have to deactivate my account during the 2016 election season. You want to make a difference in politics?..Join Congress. WAIT; no, that won’t work either.

You are simply NOT going to “turn” people into a Republican, a Democrat, a leftie, rightie, a Tea Party crasher, LGBT basher, or a Libertarian Masher by getting unnecessarily douchbaggery towards your fictional opponents ON FACEBOOOOOKKKKK.  Yes!! stand for something, but subtract the summer’s eve product nuances.

5) Insulting  people’s intelligence to make sales or “get them to sign up” for the “life changing x,y,z”.

Yes, absolutely you should promote your business on social media. Its the world we live in today.  My skin~crawling~ irritation is with the “ickiness” of some of the sales tactics. The quickest way I can describe it is after seeing an icky sales posts, I feel like I was bathed in fake maple syrup.
…. I don’t know why I alluded to “fake” versus “real” maple syrup. I grew up in Maine, so I do not want to offend real Maple syrup because it is really good  and maybe even less sticky than the fake stuff.

6) “I just can’t even believe the way some people are sometimes, you know who you are!!!”

Did you mean to text or privately message this to your bestie?

I get passive aggressiveness, I am a  woman, we kind of created it and “own it” once a month, but as a status update?…Thinking “that person” might see the post? And if they do, you really want to duke it out, in front of everyone?

WHICH brings me to..

7) “Well, my daddy’s, sisters husband’s girlfriend’s babie’s, cousin’s daddies brother, is fighting for custody of Uncle Sherman’s, cousin Sally Mae’s ,second cousin’s Rhi Rhas, first cousin’s once removed, babie’s baby. And let me tell you something if they think I’m gonna back down, they don’t know who they dealing with”

1) Wha? b) What exactly are you backing down from? A family reunion in divorce court?

And then there is that comment:

“I will be praying for you,-!”

WHAT ARE YOU PRAYING FOR , ARE YOU GOING TO SCREENSHOT THAT UP TO HEAVEN BECAUSE YOU BEST BELIEVE JESUS WILL BE CONFUSED”

In nutshell, if the family’s dirty laundry is so confusing, you need ancestry.com AND Dr Phil to help sudoku it out, Maybe that’s better left as a chit~chat with your Momma’s cousin’s Aunt’s Daddy’s sister.

8) Trying to scare me with scary, preachy messages on how I need to change my sinful ways.  Again 1) did you mean to text someone and b) stop watching Fox news. Its not that bad.

(My sister watches Fox news so don’t get all ornery; they, like all other 24/7 news coverage get paid to sensationalize, YOU, on the other hand, do not. Refrain and post a picture of a kitty cat saving a kid’s life instead!! )

9) Solange and Jay-z Memes. Just kidding, this recently and it’s CRAZY how memes have accumulated in a 72 hour period.  We are absolutely a nation obsessed with celebrities. I am not immune, I was curious too.  I fell asleep trying to find Solange’s instagram account because I read she deleted ALL her pictures of Beyonce and Jayz. I know, right???  How crazy is that? Oh you mean, How crazy AM I for searching for her instagram account instead of saying sharing #1’s post to save my debauchery filled soul? yeah, I know. Thankfully I was tired.  There were like 25 Solange Knowle’s accounts and I betcha Jesus was kind of curious too so He was busy on instagram.

10) Duck Face Selfies. STOP. STOP. STOP. YOU ARE NOT A DUCK.

This is all meant to funny. I have probably committed all of the above in one shape or form. I am sure I annoy people with my Facebook posts.  Seriously, please laugh, I love Jesus and everyone on Fox news. :)

Shortest Blog ever by Scrappie Momma:

I stopped counting the calories,
I put the scale in the garage,
I refuse to be addicted
To this perfectionist mirage

Everyday can be struggle
Of “omg is this organic??”
Bc every health article I read
Seems to send me into a panic

Health will ALWAYS be a part of me
BC my 9th grade health teacher was Hawt
Ok that’s not entirely true
But I think I just laughed a lot

I’m trying to live in moderation
Break the chains of control that confine me
So if you see me reading a label in deliberation
Tell me its ok, life is a gift, let it go & be free

I rarely blast out rhymes
This literally just popped into my head
I blog most of the time
Possibly, I just lost my Rap Street cred*

My head is a Rolodex in the wind
Where I control the uncontrollable around me
Somewhere I learned enjoying food was a sin
But thankfully I’m slowly learning  to just BE

I have no clue how to end a poem
The words don’t flow as easily
Just a quick glimpse I have shown
& help my day go more readily

 

* Kind of an inside joke, a lot of aspiring rap artists follow me on twitter. I mean not a lot, but enough where I’m wondering if Scrappie Momma is being mistaken  for Lil Momma or Drop Dem Rhymes Momma?  Who knows, I just hope there is no misconception that I have 1) any street cred because I grew up on farms,  a fishing village and in Shaker Heights Ohio, and 2) that I can rap, because I do try and it’s horrendous.

I wrote this a while ago. I’m catching up on all my handwritten blogs.  I have had a lot of dental work lately and my favorite drama on television is The Walking Dead. On with it.

1)  You witness a dental team utilize a mini arsenal of mini home improvement and home gardening tools ON YOUR MOUTH.  This way, if you every need pet zombies for protection (Michonne, Walking Dead) you can loot a dental office and mimic what you witnesses while people were gardening in your mouth; except, precision and pain alleviation will not be an issues.

2)The dental insurance companies cover one toof.  So either you have one really great toof, to use when you become a Zombie during an Apocalypse, or you drained your savings to save the other toofies. Either way, you will have something to work with as a Zombie if you visit the dentist regularly!!!  Yes I spelled toof incorrectly on purpose.  I do not know why, maybe it’s some kind of rebellious gesture towards Dental Insurance companies for the asinine  policy of COVERING ONE TOOF OR ONE QUADRANT of said Toofies.

  •     Side note. I had ZERO clue on how to spell asinine.  So I looked up “assynyne” on google. Apparently it’s very popular name for hip hop groups and rock bands.  And YES, I know how to spell toof. Remember, I’m rebelling.

3)Laughing Gas is awesome.  So if things start to go south during a Zombie Apocalypse, find a dental office STAT, to hide your posse in and hook yo’self up playah.

  •  I mean “go south” as it go poorly. Not “move towards the south”. This can be confusing, hence my clarification, because the Walking Dead is filmed in the South, in Georgia.  I never really thought of where the term “go South” as in “going poorly” comes from….?

4) Dental people have fabulous teeth. Zombies do not.

5) Dental offices are shiny, nice, sanitized, and play great family friendly movies like “Up” and “Despicable Me”; whereas,  any warehouse or church or home you take refuge in during a Zombie Apocalypse, you will most certainly not have said amenities.

6) If you are in a Zombie Apocalypse, make sure you have one of those Novocaine Needles filled with Novocaine. That way if you are about to get bit, you can jab the pre-bit area with said needle and it won’t hurt as much.

No Pain, you will be slain”  You may have to tell your Zombie-Attacker- Non -Human -Walker thing, to hold off for about five minutes until the Novocaine kicks in though…

7) Dental offices are loaded with awesome supplies and weapons to loot during a Zombie Apocalypse,  For survivors AND to ward off Zombies. Think about it. Also DON’T FORGET TO ROLL THAT LAUGHING GAS MACHINE WITH YOU WHEN YOU HEAD BACK TO PEOPLE-ALIVE-HUMANS CAMP. Seriously.  Don’t leave home without it.

8) If you go to the dental office a lot for surgeries etc, you are prepared for Zombie Attack pain.

9) If it were the Dental People versus Zombies as last people on earth, I would place big money on the Dental People winning.  They have great tools,  they have great teeth, they know how to keep sanitized and ward of zombie germs and mutations, and they will all be high on laughing gas so it won’t really matter anyways.

10) If you have great dental coverage and stay up to date on all your dental appointments, you will make one hell of a Zombie during an apocalypse, that’s the same as #2 , but that’s all I got.

 

 

or 10 things that happen when you end up in the emergency room. I have been in many ERS over the past year (no, not just for my children, my Dad was sick last year and we were  looking out for him etc etc,I  tell you this because if I didn’t you would be like WTF is wrong with this Mom).  Let’s cut out the insanely verbose scrappiemomma monologue and get right to it.  I write what I know:

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1) My son recently got the bubonic plague. The above diagram indicates how the puking episodes transpired.

2) They feel like biscuit fireballs with the fever. On day 2 of da plague, he said his body felt like it was stretching. I almost passed out myself when the thermometer spiked to 104.5 in like seconds,  threw it across the room, grabbed keys, my son  & didn’t even finish taking his temperature.

3) Frantically sped towards emergency room with hazards on blast and screaming at red lights wondering;  “is it really necessary to have traffic lights in the middle of the night?” I suppose the tractor trailers  barreling down the road, deems traffic control mechanisms necessary. To a panicked Mom, though, anyone being on the road seemed unnecessary.

4) There is really NOTHING worse than and ER doc who is “dismissive”. I am being gentle here.  The other word I had chosen when I first write this started with an A and ended with a Hole.  I KNOW they are busy, I understand they are overwhelmed, but there really is no greater  feeling of complete helplessness when it comes to your family needing medical attention and the  ER people act like you are at Starbucks complaining that your foam isn’t foamy enough.

  •   Funny, Funny caveat. Last year the few times my Dad was in the ER, not so funny at the time; there was this one particular ER where instead of an actual NURSE or Attendant coming in to ask you registration questions, THEY WHEELED IN A GIANT MOBILE CART WITH A FREAKING PERSON ON SKYPE. Ever watch Big Bang Theory where Sheldon decides to only travel TO AND FRO via Skype on his computer? Seriously SAME SCENARIO.   Coincidentally, while I was providing pertinent information to “Shelbot”, a patient came running down the hallway, half dressed banging on the window, jumping up and down, pointing to my phone saying she needed to make a call.   At this point in the scenario, I was rendered speechless, and if you know me, it TAKES A LOT TO SHUT ME UP.

5)  This past ER visit. I had forgotten I cut and stubbed my pinkie toe on this fabulous garden paverkeepsgrassfromgrowingintoflowergarden thingies ( (seriously I’m HGTV illiterate)  my husband had put out front a few days before.   I looked down at cut on my toe and I FREAKED. I was convinced I had contracted the flesh eating bacteria while in the ER and almost had a panic attack and passed out until I remembered that I’m extremely clumsy and the majority of the bumps, bruises and scrapes I bequeath are due to my inability to walk a straight line. Sober.

6) You will do anything for your kids when they are sick. I was ready to donate any body part needed at any point in time.  We compromised by ordering an overpriced Minecraft bat on Amazon and then got really distracted and decided I needed to order the “tangle free brush” for my daughter. I was so incredibly distracted (there is a lot of ANXIETY RIDDEN DOWN TIME (#ARDT) and waiting in ERs and hospitals) I ended up order  SIX Ultimate De-tangling brushes.

  • Note, I capitalized ANXIETY RIDDEN DOWN TIME  and coined/hash tagged the term (ARDT) to indicate there is a HUGE difference between REGULAR DOWN TIME (#RDT…watching HGTV and Walking Dead) and #ARDT where ordering things on Amazon seems to alleviate anxiety. Buy now with one click is a highly dangerous button while undergoing #ARDT.

7)  There is a vast difference  in aesthetics, food, activities, Nursing Staff, at a regular hospital and a Children Hospital. I do not know how else to elaborate other than the fact it’s like Disney versus Chuckie Cheese.

8) I had a giant fever blister on my lip the entire time my son was in the hospital which if you know anything about fever blisters, they THRIVE on stress, so it like grew exponentially, hourly. To make me laugh, my friends kept saying that the Nurses were saying “High Maintenance Fever Blistered Mom in room 235 needs us again, no it’s YOUR turn to deal with her…”

9) Even “funnier”, somehow in the process of being in two 3 ERS  shuttled through Atlanta in ambulance transports etc etc , somehow someone forgot to write down the name and number of my son’s pediatrician; therefore, it was written on his chart “Family has no pediatrician”.   So I am downstairs in the Disney Cafe, when my husband texts me from my son’s room “Social Services is here, we do have pediatrician right?”

  Fever Blister Ridden Mom Drops salad on floor and screams “DON’T TAKE MY BABIES”.   Yes, I have a pediatrician for my children.

10) No disrespect to ANY of the staff in medical facilities , even if you are “dismissive” like # 4, because I’m sure Anxiety Ridden Fever Blistered Moms  are no picnic for the medical community either.  Even with all the ARDT that comes with  having a really sick kid, being in the ER, or being hospitalized, I am eternally grateful for  ERs, Hospitals, Children’s Hospitals and Nurses!

 

Happy Nurses Week :)

 

profielic1I think I blogged about this before, but I absolutely have zero memory of what I wrote and yes, I could go back and read it.  However, one of the 10 things that happen when you turn forty is forgetfulness and lack of patience.   (picture is me 40, husband 38. Yep. I’m a Cougar.  you can barely see my lips, see # 1)

On with it:

1) You lose your lip line. I’m not kidding, your face starts to melt into your lip line. Lip Liners are not for youthful people. The entire Lip Liner Industry was targeted for women over 40 who wake up one morning, look in the mirror and say “OMG WHERE ARE MY LIPS??????????????????”

a) Caveat: You LOSE LIP FAT.  LIP FAT. That’s NOT EVEN FAIR. God, or Buddha, or your divine being that created you / me, I must ask  “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING WITH THIS ONE??? Wasn’t there somewhere else on my 40 year old body that you could have taken fat to use for whatever you need fat from my lip to assist the body part with the needed fat from my lip??? I could make a few recommendations? “

2) Spider Veins. Varicose Veins. Bumpy Veins. No, not the pretty ones that show on people who eat the perfect amounts of food and exercise perfectly and have pretty veins that barely show in their arms but kind of show because they are lean and strong. I’m talking veins that APPEAR OVERNIGHT in some cases that look like a cluster of blue bug bites.  Or Looks like your children got a hold of a blue sharpie, glue and blue confetti (not shiny or glittery, the dull confetti, the kind that sits out too long in the sun at the craft store and loses all its joie de vivre)  and decided to decorate your thighs and legs.

3) Cellulite.  Seriously. TRAPPED FAT?  Dear Divine Creator. Again, where are we going with this one? Fat being TRAPPED on your body. If the fat is there, isn’t it kind of already trapped?  Why do we need to make little pockets for it to stay trapped.  Its like Hotel California for FAT???   Purpose of Cellulite?? –  It gives the Celebrity Photo Shoppers a vocation.  OR it gives Celebrity Paparazzi something to chase after on the beach so they can hound some thin celebrity and broadcast to the world  “LOOK EVERYONE EVEN SHE HAS CELLULITE”  Nice.

a) Caveat: I recently took up foam rolling NOT because it’s a healthy and prevents injury.  I heard it “got rid of”  cellulite and I was all over that like paparazzi on cellulite on celebrities at the beach.  I know it does not get “rid of it”, I know the word was “reduces the appearance of cellulite” but in my book “reduces” = “rid of”.

4) Your metabolism? Wave good bye.  I had this whole long thing written out but there really is not a whole lot to explain.   Scientifically it’s the truth. I had to take a very long and cumbersome test when I was a fitness instructor and the ONE thing that they kept hammering over and over in the “Nutrition” section is the older you get, the more stuff slows down. Period. End of story.  I  passed the test (barely) but I know I got that answer right. The good news is if you foam roll, you will NEVER EVER get injured, have zero cellulite and can exercise off everything you eat. (I’m joking here…kind of….I’m really counting on this foam rolling stuff to kick in and turn me 20 again)

5) Ladies.  Your boobs. Will either go straight down or off to the side. I asked my friend if their was a cure for “armpit boobs.  Mine increasingly gravitate toward the side more and more, it seems like on a daily basis. I have to re-adjust them. Hourly. Dudes, I don’t know what happens to your instruments, but feel free to blog and let your 40 year old friends know all about whatever strange phenomenon is occurring  on an hourly basis, but keep it classy.

6) If you lacked patience before, expect to lack it even more. I went to very few camps or church gatherings as a child but there was one song I clearly remember  “Be patient Be patient don’t be in such a hurry, you will only start to worry, Just remember God has patience too, Just think of all the times others had to wait for you”.  The song frankly annoys me because it (as a song ) it invokes memories of people behind me in line, rolling their eyes and shooting me looks of severe disdain.  It divinely pops into my head when I am in the line from hell at Walmart or Home Deport or Lowes or Dollar General or DMV or where ever places long lines go to DIE.

7)  You eyelashes  leave their home and start a new home on your chin, , jawline , above your “un-lip-lined” lip, and the top of your feet. They move south for pre-Retirement years. No extra description needed here.

8)  Every time someone yelled out to you “Use sun screen” and you did not listen – turns into a sunspot, guess where??  The same place your eyelash hairs relocate to for their pre-Retirement party. Thus, you have a parade of unwanted hairs and GIANT torpedoed freckles on your upper lip, chin, jawline and feet in addition to the Hotel Calfornia’d cellulite and Micheal’s Craft store veins and so on and so forth.

9) You start giving your parent’s advice.  They don’t listen and they ignore EVERYTHING you say to them in form of advice and CHANGE THE SUBJECT TO SOMETHING THAT HAS TO DO WITH HIP HOP MUSIC?????   It’s like some twisted reverse-psychological- punishment for any hell you put them through when you were a teenager.   I really think they do it on purpose.

10) You drone on and on about “what happens when you turn 40″.  Mall teenagers, people in their “twenties” are mildly annoying, and TRUST me they find “people in their 40’s and above” as equally annoying. It’s just a vicious cycle of annoyance if anytime there is a mix of these ages; Which is virtually, any family gathering.  THE only PEOPLE that favor well at family gathering, are babies. So if you over the age of TWO, things just go down hill from there. HEY BABIES AND TODDLERS – Be prepared to be annoyed for the rest of your life. :)

WAIT, I almost forgot. Bonus) Forgetfulness.

WAIT, I just thought of another one when I was loading blog link to instagram.  SELFIES SUCK.

PS.This is ALL in good fun.

 

 

I was going to name this “10 Reasons why you should stop comparing yourself to others”  or “10 reasons why there should not be any comparison between the Stay at Home Mom (parent) versus the Working Parent” or “10 Reasons to accept yourself”   These are all very important topics, but I  really want to bring LAUGHTER into the blogging world.  Life is extremely serious, and there are things that need to be taken seriously, and there are amazing writers out there that are writing about very serious things and they all serve of equal importance in this extremely complex Universe. My problem is that my mind is an open web browser and every serious article/Facebook post/  of “you must change NOW”,  exploding in the informational highway, I absorb, over analyze and I get so distracted that I can not enjoy what is right in front of me at this very moment.

I KNOW it my opening paragraph is not Chuckle Hut worthy so on with it.  Here are 10 reasons why I will laugh at myself, (and Love) , I hope that you can find some time today to make yourself a quick list for yourself to help you love, laugh and accept yourself as to where you are at this very moment:

1) I wear Jackie Onassis dresses and love 1950s clothes, but I  also love really ratchet music. Like ratchet ratchet.  Like “Rack City” Ratchet. I mean, please, My Easter Dress looked like something out of Betty Crocker’s 1950’s picture-cookbook, all the while the top ten songs on my playlist are about “droppin’ it low”.  I will say; however, I do search high and low for the edited versions. I think that counts for something.

2)In continuation with my eclectic music and fashion sense, the song Let Her Go by Passenger makes me boo hoo like a baby. I do not know if it’s because of all the puppies and horses when it first came out or if it’s because it strikes some kind of peri-menopausal-tear-duct-gland or if when it’s played someone is cutting a onion nearby? I don’t know. It just makes me cry. It’s truly a beautiful song.

3) I cannot fold clothes if the floor needs to be vacuumed. For some reason it makes no earthly sense to me to be folding and putting away clothes when the floor is dirty.  You can imagine the havoc this wreaks if I get sick or my vacuum dies and my mop is on the fritz.  My sister lived with us for a while. She was very “on top” of the laundry.  If I saw her folding any stack of laundry, I would IMMEDIATELY, get the vacuum or mop out and start cleaning the floors. I would STOP whatever I was doing or convince her that she did not need to be folding the laundry because I am her sister and she should know I am just weird.

4) I have panic attacks at the grocery store when people bag my groceries.  I have to literally bite the inside of my cheek. I can’t do self- check out  either because I am very very slow and someone usually steps in and “assists” then I am back to the same conundrum.  Today I had a little freak out session because the bag person put all my cold stuff in the non cold recycle bags and vice-versa. Yes, I re-arranged all of this before loading into the car. I am sure I gave the person reading her People magazine in the car next to me a huge chuckle.

5) I am a horrendous drive-way driver.  Recently,  I was at a friend’s house and I literally drove right up over her cable box. It was pretty big. Cable still works in case you were wondering.    Oh, and last summer, my husband got a new truck with the back up ALARM system with the giant camera. I am backing up while we are on our annual beach vacation trip (so in my defense I was in a strange driveway) and the camera goes pitch black and the alarm things starts screaming, and I call my husband and ask him “Why is  rear aid back up alert flashing on the screen and why is it beeping extremely loud?’  His response; “YOU ARE ABOUT TO HIT SOMETHING!!!”   Lo and Behold , there was a GIANT PALM TREE about five centimeters away from the bumper. My friends were laughing so hard they could not even stand up.

6) I do not do well on highways either. I get very tense in “trafficky” situations. It’s not that I become a bad driver, I become a nervous, white knuckled driver. I hate the freeway or interstate.  Two funny stories:

a) One time I was with a friend,about 15 years ago , and I switched lanes rather quickly, possibly without using a blinker, because I had not gotten over fast enough due to my tense driving state of affairs.   I KNOW, it was not safe, but I was not intentionally trying to be rude or anything.  (that counts! Gold star for me!!) Immediately after my maneuver,  I looked back and I “thought” all these people were waving and me and I said to my friend , “Do we know all those people behind us?” as I fervently waved my hand out the window and smiled,  and she said “Um no, they are not waving at you, they are giving you the bird”.

b) I drove all the way from Maine to North Carolina with my sister when I went to college.  Several several times, truckers would pass us and give me the “hang loose” or “chill out” sign in response to my panicked, white knuckled “10 & 2″ on the steering wheel.

7)  There is nothing I love more that to drink a huge soda (ok I am trying to be healthier so I have been drinking a lot of seltzer water, I NEED fizz) and let out a giant burp. I like to burp.  I feel like it’s cleansing in some ways. Don’t worry I do not do this in public, it’s purely a stay at home mom type of activity.  Drinkin Seltzer and Burpin. Sounds like a country or a rap song. Maybe.  I even try to sound out a word or something like “Excellent”… I know juvenile, but oh so rewarding.

8) I love to over analyze, ok wait, maybe I love to “shallow analyze” and ask insane questions during movies that sometimes have absolutely no connection to what is actually going on during the movie. This is definitely a blog for later but here are a few quick ones,  “Why would she be wearing something like that during an Zombie Apocalypse?”    “Do you think they really really love each other deeply or is it a marriage of convenience?”   “Do you think she makes smoking look sexy? or is that just me?” (don’t worry I am not going to take up smoking..it was JUST a question). Again, a blog for later.. because I think I should be a movie critic for all those random questions you have in the back of your mind.

9) I am a Messy Perfectionist. I am still trying to determine what that means.  It’s just a crazy way to describe my brain and the way I organize “things”.   I want things to be perfectly organized, put away and Pottery-Barn-worthy-showcased, but my brain simply does not operate in that manner; therefore the best way to describe how are organize things in my house is “Messy perfectionism”.  The level of organization on Pintrest literally makes me want to seek therapy.

10)  I lose chapsticks, lip gloss, hair thingies like there is no tomorrow.  And so does my daughter. So then when it comes time to “clean up and organize my messy perfectionism”, I will have 4359 pins & hair things in my hair, 45 lip balms in my pocket until I can find their messy home. Sometimes they never make it home depending upon what other “messy perfectionism” project I delve into on my journey.

This was a bit longer than I had anticipated but I hope it gives you a chance to laugh a little and thing of a few reasons why it’s okay to stop, smell the roses and not try to be 500000 steps ahead of everyone else, even yourself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In continuation from the previous post, here is a fabulous email I sent my kid’s dance Director.  I think she has a voo doo doll of me that she jams pins in every time she hears a BING on her phone and it’s an email from the illustrious and  loquacious Scrappie Momma………..

 

Logan and Laney, is it ok if I drop both of them off at the same time and pick them up at the same time (30 minutes before for laney would be 3:50, for logan would be 4:10 so I was hoping I could drop both them off at 3:50?)

  For Pick up I’m a little confused (this is probably all me)  because  there is a Finale for the 1pm show and for the life of me I can’t find the Finale for the 6pm? or do they all practice that together? or is this a stupid question.  For Pick up,  it looks like they are both in the Finale at 6:05, so should I plan on picking them up around 7? or am I missing something?  Also Logan will be in both shows and both Finales, but Laney will not) Does that change anything?

Sorry I have read it a lot, and I even have coffee in my system, I just want to make sure I have this all marked in my folder and on my calender (s) because last year I kind of messed this all up.

 

Sincerely, A woman WHO NEVER EVER EVER GOT THE MANUALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

 

Ouch. That hurt! I think she may have used extra pins this time.

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It’s actually 10 reasons, but the bus is coming, and I promised myself that I would blog or write in my book at least six times a week and well, I want to get this published today so I do not break any more promises to myself, or have to blog or write when my kids are home.  I do realize summer is just right around the corner so am I planning to just “not write” for two months?? No,  I will have a strict schedule with mandatory writing time for all,   six times a week, okay maybe five, okay maybe I will we will count writing out birthday cards to Mee Maw and Pee Paw as writing time. You will see why I want to concentrate on writing this summer with my children, with my # 2.

On with it:

 

1) As referenced in the above picture , It’s Dress Rehearsal time for dance recital. Let me break down for you what happened last year:
a) I drove my daughter betwixt non-Perimeter and Perimeter Atlanta traffic to a Performing Arts Center that JUST HOSTED A CHICK FIL A CONVENTION. To a Dress Rehearsal. In which I FORGOT TO DRESS MY CHILD IN HER DANCE COSTUME. I did not read the email last year. No, I did not even read the SUBJECT LINE DRESS REHEARSAL !!!!

B) I had to drive all the way betwixt this Armageddon of traffic back home. It was a Friday Spring night. Bass was exploding from every hooped up hooptie and monster mash truck rattling my nerves (Usually I love bass explosions).  At one point I got completely lost and tried to turn around in a large parking lot and couldn’t  get OUT OF THE PARKING lot, while my son was in the back, I ended up doing doughnuts (unintentionally ) screaming expletives at the top of my lungs. He said and I quote “You really need to relax Mom”.

C) There is much more to this story, but it does provide an amazing glimpse as to why I DID NOT GET THE MANUAL.

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2) I’m not sure if you can read this but this is a breakdown of some type of standardized testing my son had recently on writing skills.  I burst into tears when I got the scores back because he “did not meet expectations” in nearly 90 percent of the categories, and I am a “writer” and it  truly is all about ME and I live vicariously through my children. I think I also had really bad PMS OR I am in some type of peri-menopausal purgatory because I am much more emotional two weeks before and after that time of the month, which is basically 365 days of the year.  Thankfully, I showed my extremely level headed husband WHO DID INDEED GET THE MANUAL and said “I do not understand any of this jibber jabber* either, our kids are smart, quit stressing, hey how’s that book coming? are we going to be able to retire in Ft Lauderdale because you will be like that lady who wrote all the Harry Potter books?” Oh my poor poor husband. No, he shouldn’t listen to my jibber jabber* either.  Quite frankly I do not think he does listen to much of it.

3) I was going to take a picture for #3, as I just got though vacuuming five pieces of destroyed chicken fingers that I had made from the book Deceptively Delicious , where you try to hide vegetables in the kid’s food. I probably should have foreseen these type of shenanigans when I saw the word “flax seed” as an ingredient.  I am not sure I even like flaxseed but I put it in all my food because I read it helps get rid of cellulite. Okay, NO I didn’t read that but I inferred it from the reading because it’s one of the new “superfoods” like “chia seeds”  (I like) “chai tea” (I like)  “kale” (strongly hate) and every freaking wheat barely foo foo grass from here to China. I digress.  Consequently,  My stubbornly honest daughter told me it and I quote the nuggets “were disgusting Mommy, just disgusting” and burst into tears. My  sensitively innocent son, told me he ate all five pieces.  Refer back to beginning of paragraph.  No disrespect to Jessica Seinfield, (who wrote Deceptively Delicious, I have tried a lot of the recipes and let’s just say I had to freeze all the chicken because that will be my lunch for the next 356 days. I made like a quadruple batch because I most certainly thought it would be a huge hit.

4) Sometimes, I watch “106 & park’ on BET,  in the evenings when they are doing their homework to make sure my Bootie Explosion play list is currently up to date with every “drop it low shawty” jam. Here are a few lyrics I find quite entertaining right now. Yes, I should be hovering over them (my kids, not the Bootie Jams)  with a plate of warm cookies, but Momma needs her jams. (“not jellies, jams like JAMZ” or “Jam on it son”) And notice I said “Sometimes.” Although I think Lil Bow Wow is the cutest thing in the world, I do not have time to watch “106 & Park” every night.  Please notate these JAMMIN lyrics:

Jason Derulo’s “Talk Dirty to me”

“Been around the world, do not speak the language, but your Booty don’t NEED SPLAININ”
I wonder if my booty don’t need much splainin’ or does my booty leave much to be splained? (that’s me thinking, in non italicized)

Trevor Jackson and B.O.B   “Drop It, Drop it, Drop it where you are”

” and she finna drop it low in Bobby Rae BootCamp, Hopping out the old school, let the door slam, She got a fistful, call her Lindsay Both hands”

Beyonce’s  “Partitions”

Radio say speed it up, and I just go slower,

high like treble, puffin on them mids,the man ain’t never seen a booty like this,

and why you think you keep your name rollin on my tongue, cause when you want to smash I just write another one,

I SNEEZED ON THE BEAT, AND THE BEAT GOT SICKER (THIS IS ME SCRAPPIE, OMG HOW DOPE IS THAT LINE RIGHT THERE!!) .

etc etc etc

 

5) I say things like “Pretend you are grown like me and your child does not listen to you and you have to ask them 10000000000007 ways to Sunday to clean their room. every. day., how would that make you feel??” I do not think my kids are ready for all the philosophically laden, therapeutic jibber jabber, but it sure as hell does make me feel better to ask them really long questions just to hear myself jibber jabber.*.

 

*I gleaned the term jibber jabber from the Big Bang Theory, Penny Always tells Sheldon he needs to quit with the jibber jabber.

She finna drop it low in Bobby Ray bootcamp
Hoping out the oldschool, let the door slam
She got a fistful, call her Lindsay Bothhands
Read more at http://www.songlyrics.com/trevor-jackson/drop-it-remix-lyrics/#VtRd5twSBPt3cBTo.99

 

More jibber jabber on this topic ..later.

Specifically, wordpress, computers as a people and automated services.

1) Yesterday, I couldn’t type on my computer. Its connected (??) VIA wireless mouse and keyboard because my husband thinks he’s Jack Bauer and I’m his hot side kick. I hate wireless attachments because THERE ARE NO WIRES TO FIGURE OUT THE PROBLEM. Ask me. Yes. I TURNED TO COMPUTER OFF 3x and I was able to restore sanity to the office.

2) Everytime I try to log into Word Press from my phone, I get a jacked up error message telling me there is a two step verification process to log in. I have zero clue what this means EXCEPT, periodically, randomly throughout the day and night, I get WordPress codes texted to me. If im being hacked, and someone is plagiarizing my genius writing, I will find you. I took apart a sink with my bare hands in college to find my friends “lovelier” (a Southern Friendship love debutante thang, I dont know either) . Needless to say, I am a top ~notch~ bad~ ass. I was tight with maintenace in my dorms and Debutants from here to Kentucky both fear and reach out to me when they lose their chunky jewels in the sink. Or maybe I really am Jack Bauers hot~ black ~ops~ sidekick.

3) I had to call Express scripts today. I hit zero 5677887664432456 times and kept screaming CUSTOMER SERVICE PERSON into my phone. After, ten minutes of this “Sybil” (the movie) worthy performance, I talked to a real person. Why is it so hard to talk to real people? 

4)  When I have not received a text in over an hour I’m convinced my phone is broken. I miss the neon phones with cords so long, you could wrap your entire body with it, which I did a lot as a teenager, out of sheer “lets see how much I can stretch the cord”. I miss not feeling like my phone is an appendage. 

5) Browsing on the internet can completely ruin your day. For example, a tiny sliver of an example, I have self diagnosed myself and my children, with the most awful cases and rare diseases through Web Md that my pediatrician reminds me regularly, not to use WebMd.

6) Our wireless computer setup, sure has a lot of wires everwhere that collect a lot of dust.

7) There is NEVER an easy solution if you get the blue screen of death on computer with the blinking hypen at the top and few words of code gibberish. We have been through a few burned out hard drives,(terminology may be off here)  to know that there is no coming back from this death window. 

8) The Geek Squad almost salivate when you bring in Blue Screen of Death problems.. Similar to Surgeons in the ER with medical marvels and complex surgical procedures & treatment. OR they know you have to buy a new one.

8) Technology has a short shelf life. My neon phone would still be kicking it,  if I hadn’t ruined the cord by playing “Cord Mummy” when I should have been doing my computer science homework.

9) Why didn’t I LISTEN and study in computer class!!! 

10) I know why! BECAUSE my brain shuts down when it comes to mathematical situations. Computers are long ass word problems and I can’t even solve my son’s 3rd grade word problems without literally having to squint, grunt, re~-write & say “Go ask your Dad”.

BONUS I have two books on wWordPress. I am on page 12, of each. Its my ambien.

➡➡➡➡➡➡➡I WILL BE THE VINTAGE SHOP OWNER, IN A EAST COASTAL TOWN, W/ DANGLING GLASS BIFOCAL HOLDERS, STRONGLY SCENTED JERGENSLOTION & BENGAY PERFUME, BRIGHT RED LIPSTICK SHAKILY DRAWN ON MY LIPS, BRIGHT WHITE CURLY WHITE HAIR, GIANT CHUNKY JEWELS, & PIERCING EYES THAT HOLD A MILLION STORIES IF YOU ASK☜☜☜☜⬅⬅⬅⬅⬅

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This is not a diet blog and I swore I’d never blog about this topic again. HOWEVER,  I am passionate moderate living and in reading Austin Kleons book ‘Steal Like An Artist’ he said,  if you cut off all your passions to focus on one theme , the others will come back like phantom limbs. I’m paraphrasing a bit, because I’m too entrenched to get up and get book to fully quote. (No, not to be confused with lazyness hee hee lol smiley emoticon:)))  ….*note.. If you are an aspiring writer, blogger, artist, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND YOU read the book!

Okay, I’m FRUSTRATED with the food fads and trends. I’m tired of hearing grains and dairy are bad for you. (Unless you are gluten and lactose intolerant).  I’m tired of seeing before pictures that look like normal and after pictures with < 7% body fat ON A WOMAN, AND people cheering this behavior forward., Sorry ladies, been there done that, its not good for you.

I can’t speak to the men very well  because I feel like the rules are a bit different.  I’m not looking for an argument, I’m simply going to write what I know and share my experience with people.

What prompted this ? I am on vacation and have been eating extremely healthy for vacation mode. Maybe a bit restrictive because my metabolism has been interesting since I turned the big 40.  Well last night I was really craving a “high class bourgeoisie” dessert so I splurged on this incredible gelato (I would have re mortgaged the house or a cup. IT WAS THAT GOOD) and you know what??. My stomach feels the best its felt all week. I had been slightly bloated prior to my “sin” and it was like my belly said “thank you for finally not counting the sugar grams or checking to see if there was only organic ingredients” . THANK you for being moderate.

Hey, I’m not saying saying organic is bad, because I do lean towards this, and recognize America has a lot of work to do when it comes to offering less processed, “whole” ingredients and I, 100 perecent agree we need to get GMOs,  bad dyes and all that crap out of our food.  All I am saying is stop the incessent, extreme nagging of extreme health. You are scaring away the people who really need to make some changes in their life because they see a before picture of a skinny chick who ate nuts and twigs for a month to get even skinnier.  If I were overweight, I would be like “%¡|°|°||^\**<[¡<[%*\]][%|°[°®®€”. Yes that was a stream of expletives.

Here are 8 reasons why dieting and extreme food restrictions suck:

1) 18 ~25 % is normal body fat percentage. This DOES NOT TAKE INTO CONSIDERATION muscle mass. Based on height and weight,   mine is 21% and I’m moderately athletic. I  have been as low as < 5% and trust me , getting to that place sucked. I was at roughly 10\13% when I was an alcoholic smoker, runner and trust me, I was NOT healthy or even close to it. 

2) You are not teaching yourself how to eat moderately. You are teaching yourself how to restrict.  That sounds like a lot Of fun. 

3) The stricter the diet the higher the propensity for failure, binging, severe depression and anxiety.

4) oh Crap. Was I was supposed to make this funny? I don’t know how. Oh I know! Diets suck bc 9/10 times THE FOOD TASTES LIKE SHIT.

5) Sorry food police,  NO ONE wants to be around people measuring their food. Learn portion control by eating slowly and listening to your body.. I admittedly suck at eating slow but I do know when I have had enough, I don’t need a damm scale or container to box me in.

Caveat, when I was anorexic, I would take my little measured vegetable salad into Au Bon Pain in Cambridge, Boston and eat it at my break. People looked at me like I was crazy because I WAS CRAZY! One time, my portioned meal, fell on the ground. I scooped it up, washed off in the bathroom, and cried ON the floor while I ate my veggies delight.  My point, don’t box yourself in with crazy restrictions and guidelines or you could end up on the floor crying into dirty veggies.

6) Dieting LOWERS your metabolism. You need to increase it by learning to eat small, healthy, meals portioned BY YOUR SIGHT AND FEELING. 

Caveat. Three years as an anorexic THEN! Another three years  of my body holding onto food like white on rice and being slightly overweight till my body was like “okay, shes not going to be an Au Bon Pain floor eating fool anymore”.  My point, restrictions on food tell your body to conserve and slows metabolism, hence you are working against yourself.

7) Fake sweetener is bad. Yes. I like my coke zero every now and again, and I use a stevia sugar blend, in moderation,  but real sugar (or fruit)  is probably the best if you are truly craving something sweet. Aim for “In the raw” brands or eat some of that amazing gelato I had in Ft Lauderdale (Pan’e Dolci). WHY do humans crave sweet? Because in the old days.(caveman?) Sweet berries meant non poisoning berries, so don’t fight your cavemen instincts. Try fruit first. If its been a while, and you need some gelato, eat some gelato.

8) Diets are boring. Do your research. There are multitudes of healthy fulfilling foods. JUST stay away from the word DIET.

I think I said enough.  

Sidenote~ I do not intend to piss off athletes. I got mad love for ya. My irritation is with promoting unrealistic body images within the fitness industry as an attempt to promote weight loss products. I love The Dove Campaign for real beauty. They are not a weight loss company but I love the message they portray in terms of women celebrate your inner and outer beauty.

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10 reasons why I love the Beach. I’ll get right to it:

1) For the most part, anything goes and judgement is blown out to sea
    Speedos. Thongs. Long Tshirts. Daisy Dukes. Sequins. Heels. Stilettos. Flats. Flops. Crocs. Bellies. Washboards.  Hawties. Grannies. Granbabbies. Snookies. Giselles. Toddlers. Teens. Dogs. Cats (I haven’t seen that yet….

2) Sand and Salt. Some people hate it but I feel like it’s my day at the spa. Its a scrub. The salt cleanses. However, when my babies were in diapers, I think I may have hated sand.

3) Bass. The fish and loud thumping bass of boom boxes if you are in developed area.   Is Bass a fresh water fish though?

4) Silence. I love secluded beaches too. Sea gulls. Waves. A few small squeals of children. A nap & book (if you’re sans little people or avec nanny) ..my un peu francais..

5) Hawties. Yes eye candy. Seriously especially in Maine. I mean Miami. My phone spell checked to Maine. Not that there is a lack of hawties in Maine, I grew up there and I’m smoking (see # 10) but people watching on South Beach is tres bon. I can’t speak much with regards to the  Cali Coast. I was in North California for a bit, and I was more transfixed by the massive cliffs.   Im sure there are Hawties in Cali.

6) Being on high alert for predators. I know right, I’m a freaking thrill seeker. Seriously though, watching the wildlife ranks up there with Hawtie watching. :)

6a) Number 6 will mean something entirely different when my daughter is a teenager. I’m not ready for that type of predator.

7)  Turning the sand into a bum holder. I love making my own lawn chairs out of the sand.

8) Using the strong currents and predators as disciplinary action for my little people. “If you do not listen to me, you could be swept away by currents and predators OR I’ll get a babysitter for the room”  As much as I love the beach, I watched Jaws too many times. Safety first via threats mommie dearest style.

9) The shops. I love beach boutique shopping from Maine to Florida. I love it all.  Tacky. Up scale. Mid Scale. BOGO EVERYTHING BEACH RELATED. Shot glasses…Mugs. Sea shell candles. I even like shopping local Beach pharmacies and grocery stores. All shops  have that “no worries mon” Beach Vibe and everyone is so damm happy.

9a) I got a reversable, kick ass WAY OVERPRICED bathing suit yesterday. See, I thought both pieces TOGETHER were one price. Oopsie. I tried to return it because I had buyers remorse but “no returns”.  Please don’t let me get lazy and toss in washing machine. I shredded my favorite one from last year that way. Shhhh. Don’t tell hubs, because after explaining my merchant debacle, I assured him I take the utmost, quality care of all my bathing suits. Tacky or ‘High Falutin’.. ….I hand wash all those bitches.

Funny caveat, this Old Navy wearing fool was told by the deeply French accented boutique owner, when I tried to make return,   I shouldn’t stress because it was a “cheap, inexpensive suit”  I have no business Beach Boutique Shopping unless it’s BOGO or Old Navy.

10) Mild Sunburn, ‘visavie’ sun kissed skin. I want pink skin. Yes I use Sun block and all that but there is something purely magical about having pink, salty, sandy skin after a day at the beach. Yes, I have sun spots too. Each one represents a beach memory.  I know, KNOW, each one actually represents the fact that Summer came on THE WEEKEND (not the weekends) Maine thus my sunscreen was iodine, baby oil, and lemon juice and peroxide for my hair. See, I told you I was a Smoking Hawtie.

Hope you get to the beach or lake soon my friends

Funny caveat!! I went in salt water with my new suit, now I can’t stop scratching. Fabulous. My new suit is allergic to the water and I’m allergic to the combination of the two……:)))

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“Do pistachios grow on tweese?” I ask my husband
“On Cheese?” He responds

Then we both bust out laughing. Except I’m snorting laughing, because I kept saying “Pistachio Cheese” in my head over and over and over. Seriously say it! Say it out loud, ten times right now. Oh yeah, people are most definitely, sneaking past you hiding their children saying “DONT LOOK AT HER\HIM. YES HONEY,  WE ARE ALL GOD’S CHILDREN BUT DON’T TALK OR LOOK AT THE ONES MUMBLING PISTACHIO CHEESE TO THEMSELVES”

The complexity of marriage (civil unions etc) has yielded gatrillions of experts, books, and seminars on the subject. People dedicate their entire lives to counseling couples on how to stay together or on the flip side ostentatiously advertised how NOT to, with giant billboards screaming 1800DIVORCE on the freeway. Therefore, I thought I’d take a stab at the lighter side of thing as it pertains to the blissful union of two souls….especially when one asks a lot if questions.

Listed below are 10 (or more) things\questions/stuff I do and\or I say to my husband and some of his responses. If there is no response, it means he is dumbfounded that he once “found my corporate drive” attractive and wondered “wtf happened”:

1) “Do pistachios grow on TREES and is it warm enough for us to plant pistachio trees at our house this year?”
Reaponse: none

2) “Is this Trey Songz Song about his Mee Maw?” The song is called “Nana” as Trey Songz belts out “why ya gotta act so naughty”. Response: none

3) “Is it ok if I paint my nails while we are driving?” Response: “hell no”

4) “does my stomach look as bloated as it did yesterday?” Response “This feels like a trap.”

5) “Do you think Jay z and Beyonce make a ton of money because they seem really popular right now ” Response “seriously?”

6) “Do you think I look as Bootylicious as Beyonce is her song about being Bootylicious?” Response “OMG THERE IS NO WAY I CAN ANSWER THAT QUESTION CORRECTLY”

7) “Do you think me when John Legend sings ‘All of Me?'” Response: None
Caveat husband “do I sound like John Legend when I sing the song?”
Caveat “do I sound like Beyonce when I sing Partitions?”
…this could go on for hours and if you have read any of my other blogs, me a B are besties, so step off.

8) oh Crap, now he and the kids are asking me questions “is Texas bigger than California?” RESPONSE “I don’t home or car school”

9) “What ever happened to Fat Joe or Big Pun and do you dance or pull up your pants and do the Rockaway or do you just Lean Back? AND remind me to put Lean Back on my Bootie Jamz Play list please”    Response :”oh look everyone, out the window, at all those critters over the bank right there”
Ok Clearly we need to go to  Gary Chapman “Love Languages” seminar, we are not on the same page.

10) “do you think I have a lot of problems or am I just moderately ‘problem afflicted’ Response “I just don’t worry about shit like you do”
He literally doesn’t. He has zero anxiety. None. Zip de na da.

11) “Do you think my boobs grew from doing push ups or do they just go to the side more than ever before?” Response “I’m not opposed to boob jobs”  Again, different pages. Gary CHAPMAN WHERE ARE YOU??

12)  ” Are you disappointed that I have made zero money with all my part~time~mommy type career endeavors?” Response “Can you please put the pistachio shells in a separate bag so I don’t eat the shells”
GARYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

THINGS I DO THAT MAKE HIS NECK SPLOTCHY..I THINK…HES ALLERGIC TO ME.

1) Burp LOUDLY and PURPOSELY
2) Leave cabinets open by getting sidetracked with wiping the bathroom down with Clorox wipes.
3) This goes for leaving lights on, drawers open, garage doors dented, trash cans plowed over etc etc
4) Lose my phone 156 xs a day. He found in fridge once
5) Coddle our first born
6) Say “I don’t need a drink” and drink his completely.
7) Lose all the remotes to TV and blame the kids
8) Try to blame the kids for 1~6.
9) Talk like the Kardashians
10) My Driving. Period. Oh wait, there is one thing that causes him anxiety.
11) Ask him a MILLION questions during all movies and shows that he hasn’t seen either or have ZERO relevance to the show…We may have slept in separate rooms during Breaking Bad
….”.Why did Walt do that?  Do you think Jesse Pinkman is a nice person in real life? DO YOU THINK SKYLAR MAKES SMOKING LOOK SUPER SEXY? OMG how did Gus walk with half his face gone?? Do you New Mexico would be a cool place to visit? How does Hank not know what’s going on? “.And so on and so forth…

12) Not knowing how to navigate anywhere at anytime and not really making much of effort to care that I’m incredibly directionally challenged

13) I know I said 10, but I just go with it. Last but not least…Not knowing how to fix my daughter’s hair, like at all. I try, I really do but she’s like him, stubborn, bossy and independent so really it’s his fault ….:)

First of all I’m blogging this in the blinding Florida sun, on my phone and do not have immediate access to computer so there will definitely be typos and grammatical tragedies. I know its not an excuse.

We are Florida junkies. Our kids are at the “I MUST be entertained at all costs” stage so we come to Orlando a lot.  Disney. Sea World. Universal.
Lego Land. Apparently I didn’t get the manual for anything, so I decided to pay it forward with a list of rules for Amusement Park frivolity:

1) Bring drinks. Smuggle them in like Heisinburg if you have too.
2) DON’T GO JUNE THROUGH SEPTEMBER. Unless you like being soaked in humidity and scorched by a blinding, hot white heat thats so intense you will wonder if Orlando = Purgatory
3) Don’t eat a stack of protein bars prior to going in attempts to mitigate prolonged hunger because I can’t function hungry. Or “Hangry” as the hipsters coined.
3a) I ate too many protein bars and my stomach was so distended I almost bought a pregnancy test.
4) Don’t cry when your children are crying because of long lines, Purgatory humidity and alien baby stomach. It makes you look weak and it will piss off your spouse. Or family, if you thought it would be fun to go as a giant group.( Im not going to comment on “giant groups at Disney” . Ill let you think that through as to whether this invokes fun or “lets go here no lets go here no lets go here no I’m hot no I want to see Cinderella no lets eat lets pee lets cry lets sleep”)
5) Don’t put on self tanner before the big trip. No matter what you do, it will literally streak off in the hellish humidity
6) Don’t look cute. As in, dont flat iron your hair, wear heels or think “oh I just have to wear this ‘adorbs’ ensemble from the Premier Outlets. It will all be ruined within the first hour, and as dumb as I am when it comes to comfortable foot wear, I know enough to wear sneakers to an amusement park. (I did wear pointy heels to walk around NYC, so if you were insulted by #6, less I remind you, I make dumbass shoe decisions all the time)
7) Don’t show intense anxiety for death~defying, no wait death~invoking roller coasters
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Due to my intense fear and “hell no MY kids are NEVER GOING TO BE TALL OR BIG ENOUGH for that shit” (pictured above..), they are now terrified of all rides. Even the little ones. Yes, my husband blames my ‘outward rolller coaster hatred’ for the kids’ intense anxiety at the tea cup Antarctica ride at Sea world. There was a 10 month year old on the ride, and my 9 year old wanted me to hold him in the ride. My husband could not stop shooting intense looks of disdain my way, wondering too, “Did my wife really NOT get the manual when the kids were born?” No. And I rarely babysat either.
8)Don’t argue. Arguing in the humidity is like trying to blow dry your hair in the rain.
9) Plan out bathroom trips or DON’T drink any water and completely dehydrate your family. Being dehydrated seemed easier than schleping through 780085 mini theme parks (within the one giant park) to pee or know an accident is on its way…which..brings me to #
10) Pack a change of clothes for every age. Even yourself. Even if its a bathing suit. You will be either soaked in humidity, someone will pee on themselves, throw up or something tragic will happen to the CUTE OUTFIT I TOLD YOU NOT TO WEAR
11) Be ready to people watch. I counted 150 daisy duke wearing ladies and lets just say my two piece has More coverage. I ain’t mad at cha, if you got it flaunt it and I think it appeased my husband’s irritation at my incessant belligerence towards my protein~alien~baby~ Sigourney Weaver ~stomach problems.
12) Dont think the kids will want to go out for thai food and sushi after 15 hours at an amusement park. SCRATCH that. Dont think anyone will want sushi and thai food, except for this alien babied stomach protein bar eating fool.

Okay, again, I can’t proofread this for a few days because word press HATES my phone and vice versa. So don’t hate the playah, hate the game.

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Disclaimer:

Please do not read this blog for etiquette tips or how to properly host a Southern Living type soiree or have tea and mint julips with Southern ladies on the back porch. I mean, I assume you kind of guessed that by the picture that starts of the blog, but just in case there is ANY confusion, this blog does not provide any Southern Hospitality /Southern Living magazine type of guidance, oh and neither does the song.

Its Spring here in Georgia and when its spring I listen to Southern Hospitality, Ludacris (stop highlighting his name in red spellcheck person, that’s how he spells it!!) Style on my playlist. Essentially I am not “Overall Georgia”  because I was raised in New England, so I have no earthly idea why I turn into a rapper when I’m jogging\walking while I got my jammed up beats just MURDERING my ear drums.  Hip Hop/Rap music or whatever you want to call it, moves me, to move.  If I need to exercise, I play it. If I need to clean the house, I play. If I need to go to the grocery store, especially in the spring and my windows are rolled down, Oh YEAH I crank it loud. So loud in fact,  I tweeted on the subject matter:  I luv that my bass is so loud it draws looks of concern. (hasthag! Bass, beezintthetrap, momswagger, momhumor smiley face emoticon)

Technically I am not DTP by jogging through my neighborhood with my dre beats glued into my innner ear canals. (disturbing the peace, term coined non other by the illustrious man pictured above, and am I supposed to capitalize Dre Beats?); yet sometimes, I wish I was DTP.  Not in a war~like manner, more in a less~anxiety~ridden~housewife~in~the~suburbs~omg~why~dont~my~kids~listen~to~me~ever….type manner.    As in, I need to freaking relax a little. I’m wound up pretty damn tight when it comes to all the “hously” chores and keeping my kids in~line. I need to lay off a little bit and essentially just join in the DTP mode with my gremlins whose motis operandi is to DTP at all costs.

Again, herein lies the oxymoron, polarizing  personality within my soul.n I love extremely boisterous, or as the hipsters and youth pinpoint as “ratchet” music. However, I try to mediate every morning, and I cannot concentrate on any task if my kids are being “RATCHETLY” loud.  It makes zero sense to me either as  I tweeted yesterday “the rebirth of the BASS EXPLOSION in the springtime, is as intoxicating as the spring birdies”. I guess that truly sums up my personality, if one were have to tweet a 140 character summation of character.

Currently, the song I listened to on repeat today is “GET BACK” by Ludacris.  In a nutshell, the moral of this song is “GET BACK GET BACK YOU DON’T KNOW ME LIKE THAT”  , well take a listen. If you dislike profanity, maybe listen to the edited version.  It’s a fabulous song if you are feeling boxed in and need some space.

I’m drawn to this song right now because I feel like everyone all up in my grill, lately. My woman’s group I attend to glean spiritual placidity  (without sanctimonious religious overtones infused with hellfire & brimstone) would frown upon my “back the eff off” disposition; however writing is my salvation and maybe loud bass thumping music, “DTPing” in my ears, is MY salvation for peacefulness right at this very moment. I know right, I simply could not be more polarizing if I tried.

Well, as the “Stay Thirsty my Friends”, dude and Ludacris says, in so many words..May you forever keep disturbing the peace in a manner that brings YOU PEACE. Peace Out Bitches.

 

 

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My morning started with this text to my husband. I’m sorry if its #tmi as the hipster kids say, but I write what I know. Seriously? I haven’t even had my breakfast and my sister stayed over so the coffee is so strong I was so jittery I could barely snake the toilet, or ter~lit as they say on Swamp Things.  I text-ed him a picture of all the garden tools while we were talking on the phone because I assuredly explained to him the snake tool is NOT IN THE BASEMENT.  Upon further investigation and many sighs on the other end, yes the conversation ended with “Oh, Okay sorry to bother you , yes I see it now”

Next, I head out to the bus stop and lo and behold, I always gather new information about what I have missed as a Non Super Mom. Mind you, the other two moms have three and four children each, I have two so I am always perplexed when I am the one consistently not getting the memos! Okay, maybe the memos do not get perused as carefully as they should on a daily basis. Apparently there was a giant Art and Chorus night for my son’s school at the Academy and the new Community Center (which I did not even know existed till this morning). I promptly emailed his teacher as follows:

  • I missed  _(son’s name)____ art night I got confused bc my daughter’s is tomorrow night and disregarded email bc I thought it was reminder for hers, oops. Is it all week? Can you forward me the email again. So Sorry, :) 

Her Response:

  • Hey Laurie, no it was just last night. All of the art work was displayed and they had a chorus concert. I am sure he will be able to bring home his artwork at some point. Sorry you missed it!

My response:

  • Ok sorry he missed chorus thing.

Needless to say, I was LOVE to be a fly on the wall during lunch in the Teachers lounge as they discuss the email of the week from Ms Laurie Jane.  Considering I called the pediatrician, daily, sometimes thrice daily, when my first born was well, first born, they really should not be surprised I am this insane.  Maybe pediatricians and teachers should all swap and forward on notes about the parents so everyone is on the same page and the expectations are set appropriately as to what to expect from parents. Notice I said parents, because I am most fiarly certain that the teachers worst headache is never an unruly child, it’s the parents like me who , as I have mentioned before, never got the manual from the hospital when the storks delivered the children.

In closing, I found the snake thing, I will try to insert said pictures into this but the phone I own takes these enormous pictures and I can not for the life of me figure out how to edit the pictures properly on Word Press. YES! I know there are many books on how to use Word Press and I have tried reading them all and I usually end up in a nap coma for four hours because 1) I do not understand the books and 2) the make me sleepy.  Tomorrow night is my daughter’s Arts Night. I have 4 pieces of paper and 6 stickies cemented  on various mirrors and appliances , reminding me I have two children and it really should not be this difficult.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

picture to be uploaded later..child snack out the door crisis….
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I always over shop before we have to go out of town and man I get teary eyed thinking about wasting a whole thing of hummus. My sister babysits our lizard (whole other blog on that so ..) I literally leave notes everywhere about what she needs to be eating daily so it does not get tossed in the garbage. I get displeased with myself when I waste food.

Now that I am eating the hummus, I think already went bad. EwWWWW as Jimmy Fallon would say, just ewww. I have moved on to banana and peanut butter, because yes my bananas are going bad too. I wish my kids like more fresh food, but because I went against the chagrin and incessant berating of the La LECHE League, by bottle feeding my children, they are drawn towards preservative filled foods. GASP. Turn me in to the SuperMom food police.
Short blog because well I wasn’t breast fed either and my mom smoked camels with the windows rolled up so I have  untimely management skills and have not been able to blog much or for very long. The whole ‘not being breast fed, camel smoking Mom thing’ really is best left for another blog. Maybe a haiku by Eminem?

The moral of the story, do not chain smoke with the windows rolled up, maybe roll the windows down,  eff the breast milk police because well, yeah that too would be another another blog  on how I was shamed by  NurseMaids a Milking Peeps (NMMP?) at the hospital and beyond on how I failed my children by bottle feeding.

Finally –  do  not ever stock up on perishables, especially hummus because, one or two things could happen:

1) You were not breast fed and have poorly planned food waste management skills; thus will have to toss food or leave sticky notes for your lizard sitter to eat rotting food.

2) You could be forced to evacuate your home for a Zombie Apocalypse; leaving rotting food for the people heading to Terminus in The Walking Dead,  but they will never find it because there is always a “people be crazy up in here” crisis than ensues during a food run. Also, Zombies do not like White Bean Hummus.

3) You are reading this and now you are angry because you thought it was an article about breast feeding. Sorry. At least it was short. Hopefully you got some good Zombie /Hummus pointers.

 

…………And also if you do not understand the Terminus reference, I highly highly highly suggest you catch up on all seasons of  The Walking Dead.  You think it’s just about Zombies? oh SON  you JUST DON’T KNOW !!!.  I could also blog about The Walking Dead till the cows come home, understandably there are probably a large number of brilliant Walking Dead Bloggers in the blogosphere right now, so I will stick to what I know.  Hummus. Rotting Hummus. And Humor. and Not chain smoking with the windows rolled up.

That is all I got today.

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serenity

I wish I had a slew of funny things to write but lately I haven’t felt ha ha funny but I have sure the hell felt “holy shit what’s happening to me?” funny. I am back at Doctors office because of anxiety caused by medicine changes. Literally every side affect I am NOT supposed to have, I am having pretty much regularly. I do NOT want to be here going through another medicine change, my only silver lining is there have been periods of laughter, so I shall bullet point them to help me out of whatever the hell “this ,” is:

  •   Conversation with my sister:”I  am having/ all the “call your doctor immediately ” side effects EXCEPT for the homicidal and suicidal ones, you think I should make a Doctors appointment?”
  •   Changing the bathroom scale battery because I was convinced it was weighing me heavy, ended up crumpled in tears because I gained two lbs in two seconds after a freaking battery change.
  • Harassing the Vitamin Shoppe woman for a reason as to why I feel like I have PMS all  the time and what pill will make me fill like a twenty year old again. Let me phrase this., help me feel like I did when I felt like a normal twenty year old, so maybe about 1/4 of the time when I was twenty, what pills do you have that will bring that 25% of the normalcy back to my life 100% of the time? ….Then telling her how much I love Quest bars. Then telling her I just want to not be bloated all the time.. Then buying a case of Quest bars….
  • The frantic calls to my husband repeating all my craziness and him saying , “ok honey, just relax, um, are the kids ok?” , knowing he must tread lightly on my hormonally bloated mind.
  • Scouring the Kohls website for hours trying to find an athletic bathing suit that will make me not feel like I’m feeling because in the dark recesses of my mind, as if a freaking awesome athletic looking two piece, will drastically change my life and even up my hormones.
  • My take away on freaking bathing suits.  Either they are made out of dental floss (and not even the thicker weaved kind you buy if you have gaps between your teeth like I do) or they are designed for a 99 year old woman going on a cruise. There literally is not much to chose from for us 40 year old people who are struggling with the incessant gravitational pull upon our , well, entire body, “Oh hello there boobies, Nice to see you there ON THE FLOOR?”

I am almost certain, you are thinking “holy shit this chick is vain”. No, I have been through this before and “this” unequivocally has NOTHING TO do with what I look like or number on the scale. This has everything to do with control.  Yes, I might be somewhat of a controlling person. I’m not Type A because I am disorganized, but I do wipe the toilet bowls down with Clorox wipes daily, but on the other hand my house is never Better Homes picture ready, there is a lot of stuff everywhere, BUT the toilets are CLEAN, so I suppose I am a type C personality? No, I do not know what that is either, I just made it up.

I am a controlling person when it it comes to my feelings. I do not like feeling like my emotions are on a roller coaster. In a way, it’s good for me because it helps me process the  “emotion” rather than stuffing or drinking or not eating or whatever other “ism” I partook in the past  when I had a feeling rather than, huh, actually feel a feeling. Good God this sounds like a self help blog, but it truly is not a self help blog, unless it helps you feel better then by all means, my pay pal account number is……………………….

My take away from today is that I am human. My hormones are most likely out of whack. My Doctor said “Um, your changing medicines so yes my child you are going to be bloated” and gave me that motherly look of  “Cot Jam when is this freaking woman going to grow up !!!”.    I am going through a bit of a rough patch. I am not shallow. Yes I do care about my weight because I want to “feel” good about myself but most importantly I want to be healthy in a normal non obsessive way and there are periods of time where I feel like this is impossible. The solution for me today is as follows:

  • No more “fitness or cleanse” fix/detox/restart or whatever their called- browsing.  None. I like my exercise regime , I eat as healthy as I possibly can based on my resources/time etc, and I do not give a shit if my body “has adjusted to it” and I’m not ripped like Jillian.
  • Love my mother loving love handles.  They are a part of me.
  • Wake up and be thankful for all the amazing people in my life
  •  Put first things first, inhale serenity like I’m 20 and it’s my last Marlboro ultra light on earth
  • PUT THE DAMN SCALE IN THE BAYLINER-BOAT IN THE GARAGE

So when my husband comes home and says , “Why is the Scale in the boat?” I can whip out my feelings chart and tell him exactly why the scale is in the boat, on and “Yes, honey the kids are alright.”
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Pictured. Scale in boat next to anchor.

 

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Ill be a passionate, limited filter, motha-jogger, loud~mouthed, edgy, overprotective, fierce warrior, scrappy survivor till I collapse.
And btw that song is my new fave jogging song , . I say jog because I don’t “run” anymore..so maybe I’m not that much of a bad ass.. ‘mae’ juzalil’ (maybe just a little…)

I’m up with the “doers” & over achievers because we gave our kids TOO MUCH FRESH air yesterday and those fools talking about “mommy? MOMMY I’M UP MOMMMY”.  My daughter literally woke me up to tell me ” I HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM”  I shot up in wide eyed “HOLY SHIT GRAB THE PUKE BUCKET SPOCK” panic mode, but thank you lord of the Mondays, she just had to tinkle like a princess.

So yeah, I’m fired up like all these insane motivational speakers hash-tagging the shit out of “doer”, and all those “successories” that make me want to put a hot fork in my eye hole like those bad asses on the Walking Dead.  I loathe the term “doer”, I have actually convinced a friend we need to make t-shirts that say “Be a doer”,  on the front and “not a donter” on the back, because well, I love irony and sarcasm. And sadly, I will probably motivate people to be even more successful , Oh CRAP, Now I am a motivational writer, with my fancy slogans, (that I stole) and tshirts…. please use pay pal account below to pay 2gs for this seminar.*

I’m fired up to write my ass off this week. Not in here, per-say, so do not expect any more of my fabulous, insightful, motivational, “wide-eyed” “doer” filled blogs. I need to get more accomplished on my book because I think I might be losing brain cells with every time I’m woken up to attend to bathroom duty, find my little pony duty, I had a nightmare because you let me watch the Piranha movie duty or I can’t sleep because you let me drink 6540 Dr peppers duty (albeit anything is better than HOLY SHIT SPOCK BEAM UP THE VOMIT RECEPTACLES duty)… Yes, I’m not even trying for Mom of the Year , so suck it Supermoms.  I just want my kids to grow up and be peaceful human beings.  Hence, my decision to let my son watch some of the Piranha movie, I thought, “How could this harm his psyche?:”, oh shit. He may never go in a lake again. I may  never go in a lake again, Have you seen that freaking movie?? I’m having nightmares now!

Till I Collapse bitches.

“Cause sometimes you just feel tired,
Feel weak, and when you feel weak, you feel like you wanna just give up.
But you gotta search within you, you gotta find that inner strength
And just pull that shit out of you and get that motivation to not give up
And not be a quitter, no matter how bad you wanna just fall flat on your face and collapse.”

EMINEM

*I stole the term “donter” from.the movie Pain & Gain”. “DOER” I gleaned from “doing” multi-level marketing, not once BUT TWICE! Yeah, 2xs a charm right?

*Eminem

I hate kale.

Posted: March 20, 2014 in Uncategorized

Waisted Wednesdays, no muffin top, flex friday and Gap Thigh are fairly popular hashtags in instagram. Waisted Wednesdays is not about getting hammered, its a hash tag celebrating ripped up waists, no muffin top is self explanatory &  flex friday is muscle flexing days and Gap Thigh is celebrating the gap between ones thigh by eating very little.

I am a proponent of leading a healthy lifestyle but I am not a proponent of it taking over my lifestyle. I am not saying anything negative or positive about all of these hashtags, all I am saying is I am scared for my children to grow up in a society where healthy equals how “waisted ones waist appears to me”, or thinking they need to dehydrate themselves with wrap systems to reduce the “muffin top”.

As for the thigh gap thing, some tall or naturally thin people are able to don the illustratious thigh gap thingy and I am not knocking this feature if its not forced by starvation tactics. I just do not want my children; especially my daughter striving for unrealistic body images.

Maybe its because I was in the fitness industry and unfortunately Fitness peeps are still following me because they think I want a piece of the “workout till it hurts” mentality. I don’t. I still exercise as it feels normal. I know exactly how to workout to experience natural endorphins, without my end game being a teeny ripped up waist or “boobs on a stick”.  I mean, I dont have to worry bout the boobs part because if I lose weight like from a virus or something, the virus just says “oh, no honey, im not going to use your muffin top to survive, baby im sucking that fat right out of the girls today sweetheart”.  So the whole “im a stomach flu away from my goal weight applies not to me but, if I want to wear a training bra, yes thsts usually where I end up after the exorcism  of my insides. My husband says I sound like a dying, crying, camel when I am sick so anyways, I just lost my train of thought..

Oh yeah boobs!

I never really wrote a bio for my Word Press account so here is a quick summary.

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I do not like to talk on the phone. I express myself best through words. Yes that means my texts and emails are cumbersome and thesis ridden and I over explain the crap out of everything. This doesn’t mean I don’t talk on the phone or have fabulous conversations , it’s jut not my go-to activity. I express myself best when I am writing.  I get tongue tied in conversations and if it’s public speaking, I sweat so profusely, I could probably sell it as a weight loss product like those wrap things.  I have a picture but I am not sure if I am ballsy enough to show the armpit Armageddon that occurred on my bright orange shirt after “public speaking”.

I love hip hop all kinds, preferably more old school , something with a good beat and devoid of incessant degradation. Unfortunately, most people that do not actually listen to hip hop think that all hip hop is degrading and full of debauchery and sin. Yes, some of the main stream songs , can be quite dreadful and that is unfortunate, but we live in a complex world.   I actually do quite like the song Rack City. Yes, it’s about Strip clubs and yes I listen to it while I’m running and it makes me run faster. I will add I do listen to the clean version so Pearly Gate Gold Star for me! (I do not know why I capitalized that , but I also LOVE and ADORE Joel Osteen, so I’m a bit of an oxymoron at times..I even hear him saying “Oh Lori, (bc he wouldn’t say it Laurie being from Texas and all) “we are all Gods Children and he loves you so and wants the best for you”…. and he would kind of close his eyes when he’s talking to me, if you haven’t seen him preach, It’s pretty cool. I like him. He preaches about hope versus telling the congregation they are going to burn in Hell if they do not donate their life savings or listen to songs like Rack City.  *

I am sensitive, passionate , and I have zero directional sense. I mean ZERO> . If I was told I had to make my living via post office routes or bus drive, we would all starve, and your mail and children would be in Siberia.   If you look at me wrong, I may try to process why you looked at me wrong for longer amounts of time than a normal person would process as to why you looked at me wrong.  If we venture into “hot topic” land, I do see red on three items, unsolicited advice about my family or child rearing ways, political righteousness, and passive aggressiveness.  Yes, I have parenting flaws,  I am not political ( I have ZERO desire to talk about politics, unless it’s with Jon Stewart or Stephen Colbert) and I have I have ZERO TIME to try and figure what your pout-ridden-passive aggressive comment means to me.  Luckily most of my close knit friends are up front and honest or just love me so much they never have any issues with me. L.O.L.  **

I abhor horror movies; especially about the devil, but I love Zombie Apocalypse genre and I am a huge fan of the Walking Dead. I love the scenery, the cinematography, the artistry, the plot twists and wondering how the lawns stay mowed during an Apocalypse,   T Dawg was my favorite, then Hershel, and now Darryl. Unfortunately in an Apocalypse, they like to kill  the favorites.  One day I would most definitely like to play a Zombie, preferably in the Walking Dead but I haven’t quite got the voice raspy thing down yet.  Yes, I am practicing right now.   My other favorite horror genre is old movie horror genre, no guts & brains though (oxymoron!)  specifically movies like “The Birds”. I  liked it because I loved saying “Bodega Bay” like the actresses in the movie, they made smoking  fabulous and owned wicked smart suits and exquisitely coiffed hair.  (no I don’t smoke but I did and I get it.)

I love a change of seasons, books, shows and movies that make me cry and laugh from my soul, my family (I know cliche but I would be remiss if I did not mention my fams), good food (I like healthy food but if it tastes like the twigs and the earth, I cannot do it), home baked goods from a bakery that uses five ingredients at most,   the smell of coffee in the morning, lawn mowers in the summer, intense thunderstorms,young people with their drop tops and loud music, screaming Beyonce songs in the car till my voice hurts, alone time, AND some social time (I have to be balanced in this category or I will go nuts) .    I am NEVER bored. When people say they are bored, they need to vacation in my head. Luckily, my kids rarely say it, so I must be doing something right…

Lastly, but not least, I LOVE comedy. Without laughter , I could not survive. It saved me.  My teenage years were tumultuous and The Cosby Show got me through some of my roughest times.   I had horrific post par-tum psychosis after my first born and The Kings of Comedy was on re-run for 3 months straight while I climbed out of some of my darkest days. My sister told me “You have lost your sense of humor” when I was an anorexic runner in my twenties and that statement propelled me in to recovery (and the fear of dying..) Ok!, I know! this is supposed to be somewhat humorous but I am trying to demonstrate how humor help catapult me out of depression and malady.

This is a snip it of me.  Thanks for reading, I have nothing witty to close with because my kids just got off the bus and I just heard “MY EYE MY EYE MY EYE YOU POKED ME IN MY EYE IT HURTS…”

* Rack City Footnote: Seriously,  what’s super funny, is someone did  a parody on it and it was called Math City, well you really have to listen to the song to appreciate why this is so funny. So when I listen to Rack City, I almost get the giggles so bad, I have to stop running.  Interval training tactics? …. And if you listen to the song and hate it, don’t blame me, I didn’t write it.  If I did, I’d be on Island Hunters , buying up some Islands and blogging about being on Island Hunters and owning Islands so we would not be having this conversation in my head.

** Diabolically, I used to be passive aggressive with hubs in earlier years. He shuts that mess down quick.

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Do not fret young padawans, I shant quote the lyrics from the riveting One Direction ballad. This is the story of my life and our life because ‘we country’. Seriously, you can take the people out of the country but you cannot force them to relinquish their country ways.   We, ok ok, I (just me) have been known to wipe counter tops with my “Nike Just Do It” tshirt (as instructed by the shirt btw) in a hurry to unveil the actual countertop.  We keep the dern boxes my sons legos come in because and I quote from my husband and my son “those will pay for college”, Good because I was hoping to use the 529 accounts to buy an Island and be highlighted on HGTV “Island Hunters” (obsessed with that show btw. Please if you get a chance watch Island Hunters, you will find yourself wondering, “What exactly do this people “do” for a living such that they are buying up islands now? )

Pictured here is my husband’s attempt at drying out his tennis shoes. In his defense he did use the drying bracket thingy that came with the dryer but it  almost broke dryer. The irony of this can best be summed up by telling you my husband is the “Serv Safe Chief.’ He works in the food industry and I have lost count if how many looks of disdain have been cast my way for my abhorrent kitchen behaviors. Yes, the Nike t-shirt cleaning tactic would in his top two, the other is when I set the coffee creamer spoon on the counter versus a paper towel. *

If you have read other blogs you might be confused because I may have confessed to obsessive behaviors , some of which include and addiction to  Clorox wipes. I do not get it either. I will wipe the bathrooms down , 5665788 times a day with proper wiping gadgets, but Nike t-shirt rags (that are still being worn) and shoes on the candle on the kitchen table do not bother me one bit.

The story of our lives is one of organized chaos. Polarizing children that love me so much one minute they are still wrapping their tiny little hands around me. Ten seconds later “I am never speaking to you again” and slammed doors are echoing through or Nike~candled~counter~washed house (I don’t think shoes in pictures are Nikes, I doth apologize profusely- whatever brand I have thus shunned). We are a house of “perfect imperfections” (Johnny Leg, you hit the nail on the head with that one) , subtle nuances integrated with rebellious bedlam.  A rowdy circus juxtaposed against fabulous rainy Sunday afternoon naps.

Thank God I have the pictured paragons of excellence to keep our house in order!

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Please take note of toilet paper roll.. How is this part of this warrior brigade!? And I do not know why there are beach towels hanging on banisters. We do not own a pool and we do not live on the beach and it is not warm enough to go to the pool. Also , I’m pretty sure it’s been a couple since either one of my children have had a shower or bath…

* The alternative to setting my spoon on the paper towel is letting in jingle around in my cup all day which is by far much more annoying to him, I can most assuredly inform you I have received feedback on my spoon stealing coffee up antics as well…..

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My husband told me my blogs are long. Good Lawd have mercy I have been working to keep them short but I am one long winded person because if you have read only a smidgen of my stuff , my brain is a hamster wheel on some really high quality hamster food. Im trying to write quicker, more efficiently humorous blogs, more frequently..(yikes that was some grammatical vomit “write” there..,get it,¡¡¡¡ ‘Write’ versus ‘right’,.. smiley face icon)

I’d thought I’d share a snippet of one of my texts between myself and my cousin. We were talking about getting together this summer and yet again, my bestie Beyonce ALWAYS has to infiltrate my time (see previous Blogs..me & B go way back).

As for my twerking Grandmother, I wrote a long blog on her two years ago, shes a gem and would be quite tickled to see how well Beyonce is doing since she broke up Destinys Child, I mean sorry since they broke up due to..honestly I have zero clue as to why they broke up. Maybe I need to tape some E ¡ Hollywood true stories…

ANYHOW, I wanted to give you a snapshot of my summers with my cousins because we had fun, dancing, playing gin rummy till we almost killed each other, watching Nick & ,Sharon’s love blossom on Young & Restless, reenacting Bionic Women scenes and of course shaking in to Wrexxx and Effectxxxx….. (spelling of wrexneffex????…..

I can have ENTIRE FULL BLOWN ARGUMENTS WITH MYSELF, in my brain where no one wins, except the furrowed wrinkled crevice on my forehead. It can be as simple as deciding what type of cereal to have for breakfast:

“Should I have this cereal, it is non~ gmo?”
“But why don’t my kids like it”
“Its really good and full of protein and low sugar but tasty”
“Why do my kids fight me when I offer healthy options?”
“Omg did I actually think that thought out loud?”
“Of course they will not eat it if I tell them it is healthy.”
“Did you gravitate towards healthy when you were a child?”
“No, I decided to get healthier because my health teacher my Freshman year in high school looked like Scott Baio”
“Before that revelation I ate cheetos and pecan twirls for lunch”
“But they really need to eat more yogurt”

I could go on, but it can be quite exhausting. Decision making has never been my strong suit. I literally would score a flat “satisfactory” in this category when I was a manager,  or maybe it was the dreaded “needs improvement”.   Oh how I hated that category, don’t we all need improvement, isn’t that score stating the outwardly obvious? How about “areas that you could improve upon, but you are still a fantastic manager”

I would be a financial GENIUS if I did not still count on my fingers. I have can analyze ANYTHING and pinpoint all probable outcomes in under five minutes. Seriously, give me a topic, I will have you so philosophically challenged by the end of my critical analysis, you will want to tape electrodes to my brain to power your house, or electric car if you are an environmental connoisseur.

I am usually in a perpetual state of thought. I am never, ever ever ever bored.  My mind never stops moving, I wish my brain were attached to my abdominal muscles because I would be ripped like a brick s%$house. By the way, what is a brick s%&house and why does that term allude to people jacked up with bulging muscles? And why did I outwardly use profanity in my last couple blogs; yet now, I’m using the shift key to express the obvious obscenity in the above statement? Are you gaining a glimpse into my mind?

We do not have a garage opener, and although I thought it was because we cannot fit our cars into garage, I am pretty sure it is due to the garage doors I have demolished in the past due to the rabbit wheel in my brain. 100 percent of all the accidents that have occurred in past ten years, occurred in my driveway because I was in lost in thoughts most  capricious in nature. My husband is protecting the garage, his tools our cars and maybe even our neighbors’ mailbox and trashcans from my terminator brain.

In closing, some of the most arbitrary activities can bring about collateral damage because my brain doesn’t focus on the moment at hand and , yes s$%t gets broken. This week? I broke the microwave circular plate thingy that evenly radiates our food and AS I was cleaning this mess up, I knocked over a faux antique glass bottle! Wait??. MAYBE I’M JUST CLUMSY????

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THIS IS MY JAM

Not lake tahoe because I have never been. I mean I’d LOVE to go and it probably would be my JAM if I went, but I can not falsely advertise that I went. This relic is one of those “my hubs went to a starbux in Tahoe and brought me home a mug”  type of gifts!

Thank goodness it was not a t-shirt because we have so many t-shirts and I have an unbelievable time parting with t-shirts. I get kind of weepy and “vaclempt” when they get demoted to the rag pile. Yes, vaclempt is an actual word, I gleaned it from my rigorous studies of Saturday Live watching AND just googled it to verify I was using the vernacular correctly. I am pretty sure I utilized vernacular correctly. I am NOT googling it though, because I am short on time, because I hit snooze to many times! Hey that rhymes, maybe I should really rethink my career as a hip.hop artitst. I will put  a pen in it.

THIS is also why Twitter hates me because of the 140 characters rule.  Oh friends, the roads we could go down on why I love coffee!  I blame Twitter for stifling my writing and my creativity. I’ll write a scathing letter to them later today unleashing my disheartened demeanor at how they have completely steered me experience unparralled vicissitudes in life. *

Ahhh, the nectar of the gods, the skip in my step, the warm tingling in soul, the jitters I experience at 10 am because I drank the whole pot, the black crud that burns to the bottom because I did not turn off the burner, wait where was I going with this?

YES, Alas coffee is more than a beverage. Its a morning ritual that esse could be summed up with the sentence “THIS IS MY JAM” , but we all know, I am NOT one of few words.

* I’m joking, I am not writing a letter to Twitter.

I grew up in the non profit  world, my pops was a Consultant in non profit management, so it is only appropriate I am drawn towards obscure professions, hobbies, livelihoods, pets etc.  Maybe obscure is not the best term, but listed below are the following jobs I have  had throughout my life since the time I was 13:

Blueberry raker
Babysitter ( I did not fair well)
Office organizer
Hay Baler
Stall Mucker
Dump helper
Waitress (@ at least two dozen places)
Buffet organizer at the Inn at      Harvard. (That’s as close as I got to IL)
Receptionist at college infirmary
Two internships at Museum of Fine Arts (unpaid , but unbelievably awesome)
Almost a manager at Schlotzkies (spelling?)
Customer Service (credit card co)
Collections (same co , yes I sucked)
Recruiting & People Relations (HR) (at said same company)
Mommy to new babies
Dance Fighter Instructor
Bubble Dog owner
Non Vegetable eating Lizard owner
……

And NOW???

Maybe??? Comedic Mommy Blogger /lizard owner/ laundry dissident/ chronic overthinker & maybe kind of a wee bit of a writer because I am a quarter of way through book, ok depending how long , maybe one tenth, ok ok maybe one sixteenth.  I over explain things so it just depends on if I locate?* a good editor and all that stuff I really need to research but I do not feel like it because I keep going back to what the Ghost of Hemingway told me which was “FOR THE LOVE OF KELLY RIPPA JUST WRITE !” Seriously, ASK Zak Baguns from Ghost Adventures, me and Ernest go way back and his Ghost really did say that to me **
(Asterisks = see footnotes cuz momma got some s’plainin’ to do)

Apparently my longer blogs get skimmed over by my groom because, well I agree, I can ramble. That is the beauty of being a newer blogger, I do not have any “haters”, so this is an open canvas, (seriously, im not ready nor do I want “haters”, thats for the rap game. Im not trying to do all that.) I also do not have a lot of “lovers” so most of my feedback is from husband and close friends and it can be surmised as “I love your stuff LJ, but sometimes you lose me” oh CRAP.  I JUST did it again.

Here lies the condundrum, I got 13.45 minutes till kids get out of their extra curricular activity. Do I post this (from my phone which means it will be formatted like I typed it from my 1980s brother ~ Word Processor) OR do I finish and post a blog tommorow..

Eff it. I’m hitting publish without editing. I typed this on a comically large phone but a mini tablet for babies so you have been warned…

*  editor stuff ~ I have zero clue. I have a book, no wait, three books on how to write a book, all if which I have only read half of each. Oh man, I am so submitting that to my son’s math teacher as a word problem!!

** no. Zak Baguns can not verify this statement. Plus I think I spelled his name wrong.

** if you are as gullible as me, No!! Zak Baguns will not verify my Hemingway ghost story.

Earlier, I had a bad case of good old fashioned, PMS. I walked into my daughter’s room to strip the beds and Little Pony and her diva hustling sisters had a fraternity party with every teeny, tiny, ‘itsy’ ‘bitsy’ figurine known to mankind.  They had infiltrated every square inch of her room. This all happened in a matter of an hour because she had just cleaned her room meeting this one Scrappie Momma’s expectations (which are, “PLEASE FOR the Love of GOD..GET EVERYTHING OFF THE FLOOR OR I’M GETTING A GIANT BAG and sending THEM ALL BACK to SANTA).  Here is a glorious “selfie “of me  eating Ice Milk or NON Milk or Coconut Goat milk some kind of healthy version of  ice cream or non ice cream, with the goal of this  “‘faux’ ice cream” to abate my PMS symptoms versus bagging up all the little ponies and sending them back to the Pony ranch or to Santa or whatever it is you believe they would go if Big Bad Mommy bagged them up and sent them along their way.

ice cream blog

Speaking of  Santa,  “DUDE, WHY DID YOU BUY HER THE MY LITTLE PONY TENT THAT TAKES UP HALF HER ROOM WITH AGE LIMIT OF 3 SO IT GETS BEATEN DOWN BY MY LONG LEGGED DAUGHTER and RAUCOUS little pony fraternity parties , daily.       Obviously, I bought the tent so in case you are all like “oh gasp, that was kind of a tough dis for Santa”, I have only myself to blame for this insidious tent and all its debauchery. However if you still believe in Santa, then I am still mad at Santa and he is the one to blame in this situation.

As for my son’s room, he has a lizard in his room; while at the same time, the sun cascades its blinding, white rays of sizzling heat making it the hottest room in the house (except for the garage, in August)  Due to the fact that I am irritated by this onset of hormones (  I googled the word ‘hormonely’, it does not exist; hence, “onset of hormones” was a replacement for my made of word of ‘hormonely’) Yes that was all extremely necessary and pertinent. My point being,   I knew better to engage in any kind of “why is EVERY LEGO FIGURE FROM HERE TO KINGDOM COME HAVING A  SEANCE TRYING TO CONJURE UP MORGAN FREEMAN FROM THE LEGO MOVIE, HE’S NOT COMING!!!!!!” I was just too damn hot and cranky to deal with Legos and Morgan Freeman apparitions. (if you are like wtf does Morgan Freeman have to do with Legos, please delve into the Lego Movie, it’s a freaking riot).   A caveat to the word “hormonely”, it was not even hot in his room that day, but I was hot; hence you see my point.

Calm, level headed Scrappie, knows that my children’s’ room will never look like a Pottery Barn magazine. (you know, kind of organized, kind of messy but altogether fabulous because even the “mess” is organized, monogrammed and dotted with glorious patterns of tweed and ________________ Paisley?) I do not know my pottery barn schematics very well.  PMS infiltrated DEF com five Scrappie which is agitated by the slightest “imperfection of perfections”. Yes, John Legend’s super model girlfriend would absolutely irritate me when my hormone levels go from ” furrowed MOMMIE dearest brow”  to “OMG, dial up my shrink, something’s terribly wrong, why am I crying so hard?” to “WHO ATE ALL MY DARK CHOCOLATE AND WHY IS THIS ICE CREAM SO FROZEN, HOW LONG SHOULD I PUT IN THE MICROWAVE TO MELT THIS HUNK OF ICE???”.  The synapses in my brain go all haywire. Thankfully I only get this type of PMS every four months, it’s like a quarterly report for my husband who provided a range of opinions from “it’s OK let it all out” (good feedback) to “why are you arguing with a 6 year old” (not so good feedback).  In my PMS mind, arguing with a 6 year old (who acts like a 16 year old) makes COMPLETE LOGICAL AND SANE SENSE.

Fast forward to our Soccer Game, I am still a little torqued up; yet my emotions start to slowly level out and dissipate.  I am enveloped by a sense of calmness as I hear the screaming kids (screams of joy!) pattering throughout the turf fields. My kids are full of vim and vigor and raise their hands wildly to yell out their ideas for the team name. My daughter asks to take a “selfie” with me so she can show the world her lost tooth.  My son offers to play goalie, which makes my heart soar because I drink in the confidence my kids set forth into the world.   Suddenly, little pony mosh pit parties and Legos that paralyze my bare feet into “fall down on the floor holy sh&% wtf did I just step on ” pain, all seems to disappear and the echo of the referees whistle through the woods sounds like harp to my ears.

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PS. This blog is meant to be facetious. It is therapeutic outlet for my PMS or whatever feeling that has transcended upon my psyche.  I am not looking for PMS cures or meticulous parenting advice or on how to get my daughter to clean up her my little ponies. Trust me, if I need tips on how to organize rooms, Legos, ponies and twisty ties, or how to parent my children, PINTREST, FACEBOOK and my husband’s aunties have PLENTY of information to assist me with these types of conundrums.    Some people “get” the type of humor I put out there in my blog and on social media  some absolutely do not and see it as a window to shower me with all sorts of remedies for what seems to appear to them as a very problematic life strewn with maladies and bad parenting decisions.  Oh and I do not need to lower the temperature of my sons room either, we good.

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….BECAUSE I FORGOT HOW TO SPELL THE MAN”S NAME, WOMAN?.. ARE YOU INSANE..???

Today was Book Reading Project Day. The Crafty Mom’s dream, the Mommy Issue’s Mom – nightmare and crafts, projects and hair conundrums are my nemesis. I really try and the adage “our last mistake , is our biggest lesson” never comes to fruition for crafty craftsmanship, in fact it progressively gets worse and there is neighborhood concern that I may one day super glue my hands to my daughter’s ‘french braid’.

I post this undoubtedly adorable picture of my children on social media and directly beneath it, from a neighborhood mom (or Dad, I’m very PC)  is Cindy Lou Hoo HERSELF.. (Do not ask me what my son is, something from Harry Potter, a squawking phoenix? His screeching squawk can break the sound barrier, so have fun today Teach!) .

You could run a roller coaster through the loops, hoops, dips and hops on my neighborhood’s daughter’s hair. It is truly magnificent. I am not in any way disrespecting her craftsmanship with this blog, I’m blown away by its aesthetic artistry.

I am just curious though,  what happened to me when they were handing out the gene that they give to Mommies ( and Daddies!! Again PC) that makes them so prolific at crafts and hair? Was I in the bathroom? Was I break-dancing? Did I pass out? Are my hands not shaped in craftsman “craftymanship” crafty form?

I am sure there are a few of you out there too that were break-dancing with me when the “craftonator” descends upon earth and hands out crafty craftsmanship genes to all the new Mommies (or daddies, I’m extremely PC you see, as I have repeatedly mentioned to thee) . I’m here to tell you, do not sweat it bro, just go with the to and fro, YO!  We all have or loops and hoops dips and drops AND POPS AND LOCKS because we know how to break dance!!! Remember???

In my defense, if there was any pretense in my husband’s mind that I posessed the crafty, hair , pottery~ barn decorator gene, he simply missed the pre~marital signs because he was smitten with my transcendent beauty. Signs such as:

  •   Burping
  •   Wiping the counters with bottom of  my t-shirt
  •   Brushing my hair with a plastic fork
  •   Heating up food in oven, IN STYROFOAM
  •   Identifying, WAY TOO MUCH, with the crazy, younger mom in Divine Secrets of the Ya Yas (you fell asleep honey, The signs were ALL THERE)
  •   And so on so forth- henceforth.

I’m not lamenting the fact that I missed the “Craftonator’s” calling. I’m not complaining. I’m not sad. Or mad. Or blue with a shoe. I’m actually moving more money into Cindy Lou Hoos bank account so she has enough for her therapy sessions, and break-dancing.

ADDENDUM :
End of the day conversation with my Cindy Lou Hoo:
Daughter: “Mommy, um, people kept asking me who I was..And Mommy, so & so’s Mom put a cup on her head and then the hair to look like Cindy Lou Hoo and Mommy so and so (aforementioned in.blog) REALLY looked like CINDY LOU HOO”
Me: “I’m sorry baby, Mommy has bad hair skills, but do not fret child , Mommy & Daddy have tucked away a rainy day fund for therapy and break-dancing”
Daughter Shrugs: “okay”

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My slamming poetry. Pictures seem to do well on word press. Most of my blogs have zero pictures and are so damn long.  I think im trying to hard on too many venues of technology and social media. I need to own one of those blog cabins where someone waits on you hand and foot while you just write your heart out, you know like in the movie “The Shining”.

My phone battery is
critically low and its beeping, wait is that steam ? Oh craptastic, it just informed me it can not upload my blog because “its power source is unavailable” I mean?? The time it took  the phone to tell me that factoid, the phone could have found a power source and you would all be reading an hysterical, brief blog before you retire at night.

I really need a blog cabin assistant.

First off, I’d like to say, or apologize to my three followers, wait maybe it’s two, I’m sorry it takes me so long to get another blog posted, and I’m not minimizing the amount I appreciate YOU.  I do write a lot, but it’s on stickies, journals, notepads and the whole process of getting it put into computer is one that does get lost in the shuffle of my ADHD mind and life.  I’m NOT complaining, and I will aim to do better.  I had a laptop but for all you parents of ‘younins’ out there, Minecraft stole it’s heart and  soul and crucified the “heart” drive into a withering mess that even the boys at Geek squad cried a little when I took it in to be “fixed”.  Yes I mean heart drive.  (Hence why Geek Squad rejected my application of employment.)

This topic has been on my brain ever since I stopped teaching fitness classes and decided to stop paying the fee to be a health/wellness Coach.*  It’s not like I woke up one morning and said “I AM DONE”. Decision making was something I generally scored as average or as my husband might say “Good GOSH Grapes woman, make up your mind!” OK OK, He doesn’t say Grapes, I’m not sure he said Gosh either. Maybe sometimes there could be an expletive in this sentence because, I usually go to him with all my decision making conundrums, which come up frequently.   Stay tuned, because I will have some blogs that outline some of the fabulous “notes” I have written him when my feelings were “hurt”. Usually those notes end up by the coffee pot.  They are fun. really fun.

It all started when I I joined a rather large gym and took this sassy, funky, kickboxing class.  I fell in love with the first “jab cross pound pound” to some heart thumping – Lil Jon- club-remix;  where, I felt like I was at the club, but in actuality my babies were in day care and I had my Umbros on (yes I think I wore Umbros from college when I started going back to the gym, don’t worry all you fashionable gym people, I upgraded my wardrobe a tad as the years wore on, insert cute winking smiley face here). Also no one was vomiting in the bathroom from too many Hagar (sp?)  shots or my wedges weren’t sticking to the floor of sloshed Budweiser.  All the club music fun without having to soak your clothes in tide for a week.  Well, if you sweat as much as I do (apparently to the point where it causes medical concern, that comes up later in the blog :)) , you might have to soak your workout clothes in tide, just no club “stench” to overcome.

I had arrived. I was officially a bad ass. I was a dancing fighter.  Usher meets Million dollar Baby. Michael Jackson meets Missy Elliot meets J Lo from the movie ENOUGH.  I simply did not give a french fry if I was burning off french fries or if I was working out my “abs”.  It was SO FREEING. I was having a freaking blast and I really felt “okay” for the first time since there were 5000 people looking at my “hootie hoo-hoo-haw” because my first child decided he was going to hang out for a bit…. and my obstetrician look like John Stossel. So um yeah that.   Also, let’s just say  I DID NOT EXCEL AT ALL at new mommy-hood.  Like we are talking D minus, minus. I blame the fact that my parents didn’t have more babies for me to practice nor did I have enough babysitting jobs with little babies.  It’s really all their fault. (insert facetious-ism, seriously, some people think I’m being serious when I’m being diabolically ironic.)   More on that topic way later, Maybe another blog.

I felt like I had entered into some kind of “West Side story/Micheal Jackson Thriller-I’M BAD” remix video while I was kicking some serious “bootie.”  It actually was not “dance” per say, it choreographed in a way that punches synchronized so succinctly with every heart thumping bass , I literally felt I was inside the MATRIX of kickboxing and Lawrence Fishborne had me “downloaded” into some Jiu-Jitsu-Lil-Jon-Dub-Step-ReMix. I do not think I ever told the instructor this, but there were several times I started crying in her class (tears of joy) because of all the incredibly motivational cues she we would shout out during class.  I did  not turn into a blubbering post menopausal mess, I got choked up because I was so freaking inspired and I simply did not feel like I was at “the gym”.    She would say things like “You got up and got out of bed and You are here!!! be proud of yourself”  or “You aren’t here to just change the outside of your body you are here to change your body from the inside out.” I’m paraphrasing due to the fact that it was several years ago.  The bottom line is, she made me feel like I was exercising for the right reasons. “What the eff does “exercising for the right reasons mean???? Laurie Jane??”   Please, hang with me…this might be one of my longer blogs but it’s worth it because hopefully it will make you laugh and possibly alleviate stress in your life if you are struggling with a decision.

I had a tremendous amount of guilt with my membership because I did not work AND I  felt like I didn’t deserve it as a “stay at home mom”.  Looking back, I had severe post par-tum delusions after my first child, and mildly depressed after my second, I actually was just depressed. I hate typing that out because most of the world thinks that shit is controllable and it’s mind over matter. If you do think that depression can be controlled by just flipping a switch, please do more research.   I digress, the POINT I AM TRYING TO MAKE,  Is this instructor alleviated the insane, ridiculous guilt  I felt from going to the  FREAKING GYM! (I’m just not a the point where I can drop the actual f bomb in my blogs. A lot of successful bloggers let it all out…again I blame “others” for this..(diabolically ironic!!)  I’m still wondering if “shit” is too much…but I’ll edit later. Maybe).

Fast forward a couple years, taking a variety of classes, with this particular class and mixed martial arts classes being something I was drawn to on a consistent basis, I decided that I wanted to become a fitness instructor.  Yeah I know. At that time, I was 38.  I do not know what I was thinking either.  This was the best and worst decision I had made at that time.  How can that be?  It was the best decision because I truly learned how to perform a task that I did not possess natural skills to perform on a consistent basis.  I may have excelled at taking fabulous classes at a gym, but TEACHING fitness classes was almost the antithesis of taking them,  and I had to go through this process to figure out it was not something that pulled from my natural strengths and abilities.  I am not saying that you should shy away from difficult tasks, ignore your weaknesses or avoid putting yourself out of your comfort zone.  I am saying that if you are so far out of your comfort zone it is negatively affecting every aspect of your life, you may want to rethink the journey or path  you have embarked upon.

To elaborate upon it being the best decision in my life.  I learned SO MUCH about myself, the fitness “world” and how I interacted with other people. and MOST IMPORTANTLY I have a new found respect for Beyonce.  We besties now. “Hi B!!!” –  Beyonce, can move in ways that I would end up in the Emergency room if I attempted, and SING, like really SING from the vast recesses of her lungs ~WHILE-  AT THE SAME TIME – NOT LOOK TIRED.  I was say things like “punch jab punch punch kick jab etc”, while performing as said such tasks (not even singing like my bestie Beyonce or  ‘bootie’ maneuvering in any way shape or form) and would be so exhausted and “HANGRY” by the end of class, I would almost fall into my food at night.  To illustrate my “not looking tired point above”….. I had a participant ask me one day  if I was “Okay” and look deeply concerned for my overall well-being.    She recommended I get my thyroid checked because I was literally drenched in sweat and could barely speak after class.  This was kind of my first clue that maybe the outer Pluto rings of my comfort zone was not necessarily the best place for this 40 something Mom of two high spirited children and one very busy working husband.   Next time you go to class and you think the instructor doesn’t appear to be working hard enough, or start to get all critical,  think really long and hard before you give feedback. I use to run crazy 90 degree hill trail races in college and even got trophies for it, okay it was a small college, BUT STILL. I thought I was in damn good shape and it kicked my ass.  So I learned a TON about learning something from scratch and the black hole space that comes after your comfort zone. Insert Winking smiley face jumping emoticon here.

As for it being the worst decision, maybe that’s unfair terminology for myself; yet, there were many times I was in self inflicted tears of frustration because I never felt “good enough” or that I measured up to my counterparts.    I guess I should have known better with my eating disordered past that I was not as tough as I thought I was in deflecting the ‘self obsessiveness’ that the industry as a whole seem to manifest upon my psyche. I thought I could shut those voices down but inevitably the cons started to outweigh the pros.    As a competitive runner, it completely consumed me and I suffered health consequences from malnutrition and electrolyte unbalance and heat exhaustion because I did not have enough fat on my body to properly function and cool myself. Huh, Maybe that’s why I sweat so much now. Anyhow,  Sounds dramatic, but true and it will be in my memoirs..  Henceforth, so on and so forth,  I felt like at every twist and turn I had to monitor what I put in my body , I was over training,  and it was negatively affecting myself and my family.

As a caveat to my career in fitness I decided to become a “Health Coach” and used   Multi-level Marketing fitness shakes and DVDS  as an adjunct to promote this way of life.   I know it does not take a rocket scientist to figure out which company I chose to align with ; however, there are currently a
“Bandunkadunk” amount of these companies.   It’s not important because the company itself had nothing to do with my decision to stop participating in this field.   However, the somewhat convoluted and  pervasive “online coaching atmosphere” of SOME of the Coaches,  in SOME of these companies, (not just the one I was apart of) did have something to do with my decision. I have re-written this section like six times. The first time I wrote it, I ended up sounding like Lewis Black on the Jon Stewart show and I have been told that extreme sarcasm comes over quite poorly, unless it’s delivered by Lewis Black himself.

Instead of providing a  montage of all the things that grated my nerves like tweezers on a chalkboard, slowly and screechy, (I’m sorry¿ was that image bothersome?) I will try to summarize in one small paragraph without sounding indignant.( Fun Fact here, I was going to use the word resentful,  but I feel as thought it’s overused.  Anyhow, I go-ogled the synonyms for resentful and low and behold the FIRST Google search that “popped up” was “resentful Beyonce”  What???  Who is resentful at my BFF??? and how can anyone be resentful at the woman who masterminded the song that every man, woman and child is screaming  at the top of their lungs in their car  (……..boyimdrankin…..grindinupindatclub..surfboardgraininondatwoooooddd) ……My apologies to your boss if  you are reading this at work and just played Drunk In Love in your office and tried to “twerk”.

I digress. Seriously girlfriend,  Beyonce!!! Stop infiltrating my thoughts with your naughty music.  I became disenchanted with the MLM fitness entity because quite simply, it was not my scene. I did not feel comfortable displaying before and after pictures of my stomach or my arms or my saddlebags or whatever body part I incessantly felt like I needed to “Fix”.**  I was tired of being asked to do a “cleanse”  or a “challenge” when quite frankly, all they did for me was made me feel like sleeping OR I wanted to rob a bakery, and then I felt guilty because I was starving. Whe I did the cleanse and was told it was a highly caloric cleanse (1500 calories?) and I shouldn’t be feeling hungry.   I NEVER EVER felt like being moderately healthy  was enough and I ended running around all wide eyed and freaked out because “OMG I did too much cardio and not enough strength or I hadn’t learned the hollow back handstand and OMG LAURIE why aren’t you more flexible you really need to focus on that what’s wrong with you???.”

My brain had become a level 10 roller coaster of negative health thoughts.   I felt like I was eating too much and I should be constantly tracking my calories and my calorie burn.  I was constantly striving to be in smaller pants or have bigger biceps but not too big just big enough to look a certain way and this swirling mass of disenchanted thoughts HAD TO STOP.  Yes the problem absolutely became MY problem and it was turning me into an obsessive health freak that had banned “cheezits” from the house.  I DID NOT WANT TO BE THAT PERSON.

Some of you might ask, why couldn’t you have stayed in the health and fitness/mlm “thangy thing” and stayed moderate and balanced.    I could not because  my career choice HAD BECOME the gasoline to the fire for  obsessive, extreme behavior.  I also did feel like there were fitness leaders in that particular industry that sent a somewhat obsessive message (IN MY OPINION) and I just did not want to be a part of that culture any longer. AGAIN,THIS IS MY OPINION.   Some of you that read this might be saying I’m a “hater”, but really it’s not that, I applaud the athletes who have overcome giant obstacles to be leaders in this very complex and growing industry. I just chose to distance myself from the message that I did not agree with on a daily basis. I am not going to give examples, but if you are curious,  Google leaders in an fitness industry and follow them for a bit, you may feel undoubtedly and incredibly inspired, I want you to to make up your own opinion if they send a balanced message or one that promotes unrealistic body image expectations.   I do not blame anyone else and take full accountability that this industry was a dangerous place for me to rest my career laurels upon on a day in and day out basis.

In closing, I would not trade the short (but eventful!) stint I had as a fitness professional? (OMG, am I officially retired, if so where my pension be hiding???? ) Seriously  the best way I can surmise this blog is with a quote I had written on my social media account in January. “I’m SO grateful that I became some of the things I was. To truly realize who I AM.. who I am NOT. and who I can BECOME.” (LJF) Sometimes you have to go through it, in it, do it, see it, be it,  to realize that you do not want to be “it”.

*mlm fitness shakes & videos, I’m not going to go all into brand-name etc, because well I’m just not..I tend to over explain and I seriously do not want to lose you on some needless drivel

**I’m NOT  disrespecting ANYONE that does show before after pictures etc, it simply made me uncomfortable in a way that was not needed for ME.

To know me is to love me. Or strongly dislike me. I’m like a hot cup of coffee on a hot day. Hence the name Scrappie-Momma.  Where did I get this name from? No, I do not scrap book.  I tried and you want to know how much I completed? One page out of a 500 page book my darling husband bought for me after I declared “Oh Honey I can’t WAIT to stay home with the new baby and scrapbook, cook novella cuisine dinners for you nightly  and who knows maybe I’ll even start gardening or something really domestic.”  You see, I had just signed a generous severance package from a bank I was working at as a Human Resource manager and hubs was a little nervous about what was going to happen after that severance ran out and I was all comfy and cozy with new baby and my fabulous scrap book creations. Clearly we will be able to survive on my crafty “craftmanship” scrapbook creations won’t we?  That story to be told another day..  He said one of the reasons he fell in love with me was because he thought I was going to be a high powered executive in Human Resources. Oops.

Okay, so now you know Scrappie does not come from scrap-booking.  Do you remember the show Friends? Well there was an episode when Phoebe told Monica she was Scrappie or Scrappy (the spell check thingy majiggy keeps saying scrappie is misspelled. whatevs, now this whole sentence is underlined in red..) Anyways, Phoebe told Monica she was Scrappie because Monica “scrapped” her way back in to Phoebes life after Phoebes decided she did not like her! Well that’s kind of me in a nutshell. If I like you and you do not care for my presence, hang around, because I will warm your soul like a hot cup of coffee. You just might need to wait for it to get cold outside (or go into a well air conditioned building) before you actually enjoy my presence.

Today was a typical Scrappie-Momma type of day.  I tend to run about 6-8 minutes behind schedule, I am not usually “late” but because of my ability to navigate this fake,extra-time sequence in to all my clocks, and tell myself “oh I have an extra 6-8 minutes” , I’m usually hurriedly completing easy tasks in a frantic fashion.  For instance, I have thick hair. No thick is an understatement. I have hair that could be used to make a chain link fence. I could shield bullets with my helmet of hair. I have had it thinned and feathered but it just grows back in thicker and I then I have a thick, overgrown mullet.  Ask any hair dresser who has cut my hair they have all exclaimed “DAMN you have a lot of hair,  I didn’t realize how thick your  hair was, wow, we might need a few more minutes with your next appointment.”  OK, maybe they didn’t say Damn, but I can tell from their expression they want to and they also want to charge me more for dulling their scissors with my chain-link metal hair.

My point being, I was running late and I was trying to get 4 big chunky necklaces around my neck (CHUNKY CLUNKY jewels are IN my FRIENDS, and Friends from Friends too.) and they all got caught in the chain-links of my hair. I broke one and managed to get two off, but they are mangled and tangled together sitting on my husbands side of the sink for him to fix , after he gets home from a long trip because that was what he was longing to do, after sitting on a plane, and in Atlanta traffic for five hours.  Seriously, how does one BREAK  a necklace in her hair?  Me. due in part because I have mutant-Ly thick hair and due in part because I built in 6-8 minutes of time that never existed in the first place. Typical Scrappie or Scrappy or Crappy behavior.

I made it to my destination a few minutes late but not absurdly late, and my day started to even out time-wise; however, the rush of adrenaline from fighting with my chain-link-helmet-sheild hair or from the 650 cups of coffee, fueled me into wide-eyed Scrappie Momma mode.  So I pulled out of a parking lot and admittedly even thought I did glance to the right,  I didn’t see the Prius honking it’s horn of justice , no scratch that, laying ON THE HORN for 30 seconds straight,  with I think both middle fingers stuck out the window because I had inadvertently cut him/her off. I could not tell the gender because the face was blocked by the affectionate traffic gestures of love. Maybe I was his/her Valentines?  I’m not, by any means, condoning my driving skills and I want to apologize to the man/women I cut off, It was NOT intentional.  My helmet hair got in the way of my peripherals.

Lastly, I made a stop at TJMAXX Home-Goods because we are re-decorating my sons room and I thought what the heck , they might have some distressed antique /industrial looking furniture that , ok , ok momma really wants and almost tween son could give two shakes of a lamb tale about.  I could bring home old hospital furniture and he’d be like “sup” “looks good moms”.  Anyways as I was frantically taking pictures (and Texting to my husband who was in a car with his boss) of all the AMAZING DEALS on SOLID WOOD vintage-couture-industrial-shabby-chic-antique pieces that now I was kind of salivating because I was thinking “Hey this might look great in the ……..”  I bumped into someone and my Starbucks Soy Latte splashed all over another piece of furniture (do not worry it was not one of the pieces I wanted for my son/living/tea/guest room. Phew.

I am not a person who splashes and doesn’t tell so I did run to the front to alert the very disenchanted staff and management who then proceed to call “Josh” over the paging system:  “WE HAVE A CLEAN UP IN THE BACK. SOME LADY SPILLED HER STARBUCKS.”  Josh and his attending (I’m not kidding, he had an assistant ) came rushing to my assistance. Thankfully , the splash was still “active” and my latte was made with organic soy milk so, like it was  Vegan, Paleo, Atkins, South Beach and Nutrisystem approved  AND  gluten/pesticide free; therefore it did not harm the furniture. Josh, myself and his attending were all very relieved that I did not scar the cute little end table from Morocco.

In closing, the collateral damage and klutzy sins of Scrappie Momma was atoned for.  I said a quick “I’m sorry God I will really try to pay more attention when I am driving and I do have a big ‘no Texting’ sticky note on my dashboard, so please let Jesus know that I do have that sign on my dashboard and I do refer to it quite a bit.”   Although I wasn’t Texting (omg texting isn’t a word yet??, it’s coming up RED as misspelled…) at the time of the Prius-Valentine-Rendevouz- I just hadn’t clipped my helmet back enough.  But no excuses, I will do better.  Finally, an apology to Josh, and his attending for quickly rushing in to clean up the remnants  of my sweet & salty soy latte.  I have to admit , I was in mourning the loss of the rest of my latte because that was the frothiest soy latte I had had in a long time.

Starbucks tomorrow? I promise, I will look both ways before turning out onto the street and I will not bring my frothy delight-fulness into any home goods or boutiques.  Peace and Happy Early Valentines Day!

“Oh God and image of me trying to get this published just went through my ADHD head and  crap there is so many productive things I should be doing like laundry, laundry and laundry and cleaning the kids room even though they really should be cleaning that shit up themselves but if I could just SET THE EXAMPLE of how it should look, don’t you think they would follow my lead??

My plan is to clean it up with them when they come home from school so they LEARN from what we are doing but then I just get pissed off and tell them to go do something else so I can have complete control over the situation,  and round and round we go with my issues BUT as noted earlier I do not blame ANYONE in my family for the way my brain works… like a 50 year old blender with too much ice and freezer burned fruit.

I had to google the word “placation” because I was not 100 percent sure if it was the “tion” form of the word placate.  Let me just tell you I love the word “placate” because it sounds so  Joan-Crawford-Mommie-Dearest,  “DON’T PLACATE ME WITH YOUR WIRE HANGERS”  I know she doesn’t say that, but good grapes you know that is what she suggested she say to the script writer dude.   On the other hand, I desperately can not stand to be placated or outwardly insulted with some form of phrase like “oh, yeah that’s totally a no brainier, you should do it” and I say this with the utmost inflection being on “brainer” & “you should do it” (To get the full effect on how I’m saying this out loud to myself, google Californians on Saturday Night live.  Ok ,I’ll wait.  Yeah, that’s how I am saying it.  When any sales person utters the word “no brainer”, I stare at them like scary kids with no eyes in those paranormal movies , turn around and walk out.   Or I suggest they sell to actual Zombies who  have lost most of their brain power.

I coined this term because I feel like “nice” people who are not necessarily door mats, but truly try to see the good in other people fall victim to episodes of “Passive Aggressive Placation”.  I’m going to do my darnedest to give examples without being a total bitch, because I do consider my self a “nice” person but I also own a bit of snark, or scrappiness if you will. Truth needs to be told about people who are “serial-killer-nasty” ; one moment  a charming savant of manners and compliments while altruistically robed in a ‘Snugee’ of “ratchetness”, cheap polyester and barbed wire accolades.   Passive Aggressive Placation is my kryptonite.  It turns my face red , I will flip my head around so fast, start snapping and hip-walking with the “let me tell you something” phrase frothing  out of my mouth like the foamy desirableness of a Carmel Machiatto. (ok spell check keeps telling me that Machiatto should really be the word Machination)

Passive Aggressive Placation is really the tool of annoying and sometimes even extremely successful Sales People.  It’s the inauthentic dumfounded shock and awe on the sales person’s face when they have spent their incredibly precious time desperately providing “high Key” covertly disguised as a “low-key” sales pitch and you politely decline. To which they respond: “Oh, I”m flabbergasted that such an extremely well-educated  gorgeous, brilliant, young lady would pass up on such an incredible deal”.  Saying “no” to hot-shot sales people, is like saying “no” to a smart-mouthed over-privileged teenager who is learning how to manipulate their parents.  They know if they go bat-**** crazy , there is no dice, but if they play it “cool” and back-hand compliment the hell out the situation, there is a chance that “no” will turn into a “yes”.

My favorite do or die sales pitch is the: “There are only 50 items/spots left and time is running out, your life is a mess, you need this, tap into that savings account NOW! what are you WAITING FOR?”!

“UM, for my common sense to kick in to realize that what you are charging is asinine  Or

“Um, for my common sense to kick in to realize that you have only had this promotion running for 1 day”

No, No, that’s not even the passive aggressive placating part.  It’s the part where they close the actual deal down and say “NO MORE LEFT”  and then magically 24 hours later, 400 items etc are suddenly available.  I get it, supply and demand; hence, welcome to the rave party of underhanded sales. “If you do not act now, your life will be sucked into a deep, black hole of despair, desolation, and depression. The three Ds or darkness will cascade upon you forever UNLESS you sign up for this one~-time, short lived offer of glow stick freedom enmeshed in the giant “mosh” pit of enternal financial bliss, do you have your pay pal account available?”

Unfortunately, sleep deprived or insomniacs are plagued with the “Do you desperately hate your life that you are sitting there in your jogging pants, covered in Cheetos, hating yourself for eating Cheetos and wearing ugly jogging pants, well! sign up now with a start up fee of ____ and I guarantee you will love your life again”      It’s also used in the billion dollar diet industry  coupled with the “I guarantee you will lose weight if you try this fabulous innovative new product”. *   I could write a BOOK on incessant onslaught of fitness crazes, fads, pills, shakes etc that reign down upon us like skittles in those psychedelic skittles commercial. It’s absurd!!! And I’m not immune,  I like to exercise, I have bought some of the stuff to stay MODERATELY fit; however, if I scroll through certain health magazines or websites, Moderate is NOT GOOD ENOUGH WOMAN!.    According to the fitness revolution, if I can’t wash my undies on my washboard abs,  apparently I need more products and I certainly need to eat more twigs and less cheetos.   No wonder people do not want to start an exercise program!   I see this fitness phrase a lot “What’s your excuse?”   I think some one needs to respond “YOU ARE SCARING ME”.   If I see one more female lift up their shirt to show their abs and the bottom of their boobs in a effort to “sell” fitness, I am going to try and wash my undies on my 2.5 pack and tell them “I want my money back, it didn’t work”. **

I know we can all think of how this type of behavior affected us or affected us.  The creepy boss who said things like “I’m your biggest fan but…”  No, you are not my biggest fan. That’s creepy and why start a sentence like that and use the word “but”, just give me the feedback and do not be a douche-bag. (according to my grammar check, douche-bag should be hyphenated).   Or the obnoxious supermom who says things like “Bless your heart, you look really stressed & tired, have you read Baby Wise or do you eat too much gluten and saturated fat? I did all that and look at me! I’m a size zero and baby girl is sleeping through the night!”   Really sweetheart,  how about, “Let me give you a hug because I understand what you are going through and I’d rather be nice to you versus a condescending , lip-glossed, twig-eating ______”

When I had my first child, HIS THIRD MONTH of LIFE, I hadn’t gone back to work and  a mom (I don’t know if she worked or not, well maybe at being obnoxious) asked me “WHAT DO YOU DO ALL DAY”    Um, well now I’m going to cut up creepy pictures of you and poke black holes in the eye slots and say voo doo doo doo prayers  in them while I eat my giant stash of Dove Chocolate bars (and cheetos bc I love cheetos; thus, why I have mentioned them several times and guess what? they have an “all natural brand”  which means I can lose weight WHILE I’m eating them because they are negative calories…), because apparently I’m not productive enough for you to ask me rational, polite questions.  Yeah I said voo doo doo doo prayers.  People who are passively aggressively placating invoke voo doo doo doo doo behavior.

How bout you, what’s your example of passive aggressive placation?

Footnotes for asterisks*

* The entire health industry does not fall into this category, therefore no disrespect to the health industry as an industry per-say..(grammatically that sentence was crappy but I’m trying to a make a point on sleazy sales gimmicks , not “out” any hard working fitness and health professionals who really do care about the public good)

** again, attraction marketing, I get it. Of course you should show of those abs! But do it in a way that’s not so obnoxious.  Wear a cute FULL COVERAGE ATHLETIC bra top, there really is no need for you to lift up your shirt. None.  This isn’t Spring Break in Cancun.  Google “cute athletic bras” and I guarantee you will find something G rated that I do not have to hide from my children if I’m scrolling Instagram with my kids sitting next to me.

“whats your excuse”

I used to think I needed to work out harder, longer, eat less, eat more twigs, or jump on the latest fintess fad, gadget, parallel bar (have you seen these things??) to get rid of the extras that come with being a mom, getting older and just LIFE!!
  Im grateful that right now at this very moment~Im ok that stuff jiggles on my body (other than the twins up top). Ive fallen in love with myself again. (I do not mean this in the Kayne sense of thangs..I still have my humility :-)). I am ok with exercising like a “normal” person (whatever the hell that means??)  and I do not have to do 1000 burpees if I decide to eat a giant piece of cheesecake.
No, Im not saying I have gone to the other extreme of being completely unhealthy. Im saying I think I finally understand what it means to be moderate and good golly that is not an easy task for the “omg I want to be a superstar~master~athlete~director~of ablogistics” tomorrow because I liked  dance~fighting~aerobics more than I like your average aerobics” (I know no one uses the word aerobics, but my periodontist wrote “no aerobics until pain goes away” and I found that amusing because for my two years emerged in the fitness world that word was used for flashback 80s classes).
My brain does not automatically work in moderation mode. I have to conscious of my actions at all times because extreme (insert electric guitars) was my middle name. Extremely manic or extremely in bed dead. Its no way to live and I can do that to myself if I do not watch “it” ~ no don’t ask me what “it”is because I do not know.
  Healthy is truly a state of mind and it concerns a whole body connection. Ok. Im not dr Phil or Oz, but if I have learned anything its you simply can not enjoy what you are doing if you have to be obessed with the outcome of being perfect or having the perfect body or if “more” is never enough. (More money more “stuff”.) Less is usually more when it comes to a truly healthy, balanced lifestyle AND I DO NOT MEAN THAT IN THE CALORIC SENSE _ remember I just had a GIANT PIECE OF CHEESECAKE!

Be healthy. Find confidence. & shake what your momma gave ya!

I wrote this diatribe on my phone so forgive the typos…ill edit later.

STRIKE WHILE THE IRON IS HOT

Posted: January 24, 2014 in Uncategorized

My Grandma (gam – gam, gigi, me-maw etc) used to say this ALL THE TIME, pretty much about every conundrum I encountered in life.   At first I was like “g-moms, u knows I don’t iron, uknowwhaimsayin”  but she was all like “naw dawg, i’m talking like carpe-diem type stuff -you feel me?”.  Ok. No. I did not speak to my grandmother like this nor did she speak like Randy Jackson from American Idol; however, she did quite enjoy a tune or two from Boyz To Men; yet,  was kind of pissed off that they spelled “Boyz” wrong as she was an English major.

The reason this saying is so fitting in today’s society is life moves FAST.  Ipods, ipads, tablets, email, gmail, bmail, google +, google -, google play, google guts, chromed out google, dubbed out google, google crunk, edddit,reddit, digg, wigg, bigg, instagram, instaquote, instagoat, and samsung’s line of comically large phones and such means that INFORMATION IS FLYING AT YOU LIKE MAD RHYMES IN THE CYPHER. It never ever stops.  I currently have seven writing, poets, blogger magazines, 8 yoga magazines and 3 ADHD magazines sitting by my bed that I’m too tired to read at night but sometimes I place them under my pillow in hopes that the osmosis of knowledge will filter into the synapses of my brain. (I can do a downward dog without falling over..so progress)

“Strike while the iron hot”, does not mean , burn the candle at both ends and party like a rock star. No Ma’am, it means, celebrate what you have RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU.  What’s right in front of you RIGHT NOW?  I have a sharpie (or two), a giant journal, a stack of UN-filed (but paid SON!) bills, and a giant sticky note with the words (DON’T FORGET EOM -CAR PAYMENT COMES OUT, but it’s written like this: ‘eomcarpymtcmesout’ – so I have to squint and work those synapses to decipher the code.   Most importantly,  I’m feeling fabulous surrounded by the clutter of my writing gear accented by the melodic whir of the dyer & kids, smiling with the knowledge that I can hit refresh on the dryer 70000000 more times before I have to fold the clothes.

I really hope you are not reading this article in hopes to glean some fancy ironing tips.  Scrappie Momma does not iron unless its a def-com-five emergency -like a wedding or church with momma in law- and at that point, I’m mercilessly begging my husband or mother n law to help this poor undomesticated soul OUT of the possibility  of ironing more wrinkles IN than OUT>.  I do have one of those steamer things in which I end up soaking the garment in steam and have to wait the next day to wear because well, it’s soaking wet…. Alternatively, I spray too much of the DE-wrinkle-sprayer on the garment and I have a sneezing attack.  Lastly, The refresh button on the dryer only works on the kids clothes, well because let’s face it, I kind of lowered the expectations for the actual definition of “unwrinkled” for my children.  Hey, isn’t that crinkly look in right now? So no. There will be no domestic tips in probably any of my blogs.

In closing – get off that hamster wheel and celebrate the idiosyncrasies of life. Make yourself laugh if you have too. I mean really, you can find something hysterically funny just by looking around your house. Me? I have been known to leave my phone in the fridge. I take my bra off around 4 and hang it on various door knobs throughout the house. I consistently talk to our pet bearded dragon, encouraging him to eat and even waving pieces of kale in front of his nose – while saying “yeah buddy, I wouldn’t eat at either..but I think oreos might kill you”.  The sights and sounds of your own house are a comedy in motion.  Breath it in.  Laugh it out. And go mash that refresh button one. more. time. on. your. dryer!

Technology Murderer

Posted: November 20, 2013 in Uncategorized

My husband lovingly refers to me as the computer murderer ; the antitheses of the computer whisperer, you know, derived from that fabulous dog whispering dude on one of the 543209876787656 channels on your TV.   Literally , just as I sat down to write this, I was delayed because I  couldn’t find my freaking password for wordpress; yes it’s on a sticky note, and yes I should have it memorized but it’s really complicated because , I’m in extreme danger of being plagiarized with my 6.4 followers.   I  frantically looked in our documents, because I typed out all our passwords a few weekends ago.  (STOP – if you are a hacker,  I didn’t really do this OR if you don’t believe that, I JUST paid off my 4 year liberal arts degree like less than a year ago, I’m 41, I’m a bargain shopper,  I don’t “work” per say- so sufficed to say, hacking into our financials is just going to piss you off……)  – I digress. I don’t remember what I named the document because I tried to be clever. I did name one of my documents “Throw some Dees on dat…dat…dat..dat” ,but it’s not my password document and that particular document has nothing to do with Daytona Rims (which by the way is what a Dees Be)  so I really don’t know where I was going with that document title.

Let’s just say, over the course of the last couple of years, I have sent “comments”, “feedback” “surveys” & what-have-you-  to Google, Itunes, WordPress, Microsoft etc – in a lame attempt to express my dissatisfaction towards computer and technology malfunction.  I’m sure; somewhere in IT land at some company, there is a dartboard or a voodoo doll with my name all of it.   Yes, I’m the user that gets frantically angry, clicks 1056998340474 times, screams at the computer with intense vitriol resentment, so much so,  I’m terrified that Dr Phil’s camera crew is going to come busting in at any moment to document and analyze my years of buried malfeasance.  I will admit, nine times out of ten – the problems I am experiencing are what the IT departments anywhere most affectionately refers to as “useless user error”.

Let’s go back, way back, 10 or so years ago when I worked at a credit card company.  I know those IT people (‘those people’ – insert smiley face) played some type of rock, paper, scissors, lizard, spock, game to not have to deal with moi as my name lit up on the help desk phone.  My stoic face, is kind of a grumpy face, okay okay, let’s call a spade a spade, I could be and was kind of a bitch when my computer was not working or maybe I was kind of a bitch in general. I would not want to help me with my computer problems.

I remember this one system we installed in the Human Resources department, let’s just call it the  GAH system because I am not sure if it was a top secret system? again, because well, you know,  I worked for a credit card company, not the CIA so I’m not sure why  I’m protecting the name of the system. Anyhow, this system cataloged interview candidates and it repeatedly got backed up , because we got backed up with candidates. It was supposed to work “real-time’, like the drive through at Starbucks, but after 600 mocha choca lattachinos ordered and only a couple people to handle the frothing machine- you do the math.  For whatever reason, I was vehemently  displeased at the GAH system. ( I think I even made up an angry RAP song about it Eminem style..)

I remember sending one of my infamously long (see my blog on Procrastination) emails to the head of the IT department about our issues with the GAH system and I used all caps and cheese and crackers, did I bold and underline and CC other people?   His  response was so eerily calm to my outright PMS tantrum, I’m pretty sure he put a curse on  all my future technology purchases.  In essence , these two paragraphs are dedicated to him, his patient staff and IT people around the globe that I  have dealt with- My amends to you for for all the emails/ surveys titled “I will be putting a fork in my eye if I receive any more error messages” , my guttural screams, my incessant “leave-words” and whatever fresh hell I cascaded upon your departments.

Phones: I have never had a good track record with mobile phones.  One because I rarely have them turned on so when I lose them, I can never find them. Recently my “smart phone” ended up in the fridge; and hubs was none to happy to have been the UNSPOILED VICTOR in this quest on finding MY COLD PHONE before I dashed out the door to a baby shower.   Yes, I take witless actions; such as,  PLACING PHONES ON MY RUNNING BOARD OF MY CAR BEFORE DRIVING  OFF LIKE  MADEA; only to realize 10 minutes later the tragic death that had bestowed upon my cellular companion.. My torrid relationship with phones can be summarized by the following image; A wide-eyed, bushy pony-tailed Mom,  in her frayed , extra long yoga pants,  barefoot, topped with a NIKE swooshed “Just Do IT” t shirt-, frantically dodging traffic to pick up the mangled wreckage of what was once a communication vessel.

Computers:  Sigh. I could write an entire book on my war with these  B____S (you figure out the word, Jesse Pinkman used it lovingly and frequently in Breaking Bad)_, okay I gotta be nice – because I really think there is something to that movie the Matrix. This “computer” I’m typing on, controls me. Nice computer. honey bunny smoochies. Momma loves you soooooo much!. Before you call the people who house the straight jackets to come get me, read on.

Last year, this one Scrappie Momma became unconditionally stonewalled  with the “perceived” slowness of her computer ( I mean really, It shouldn’t take THIS LONG TO UPDATE FACEBOOK I gottts stuff to say…) and after 5684957398 clicks with the mouse, 5423795748 rambling texts to my husband, I finally ordered up one of them “handy-dandy-click-amma-bobs-helpful-virus-scanware-guaranteed-to-make-your-computer-faster-or-your-money back”.   Sufficed to say, my computer seemed to run faster that day. Then it literally started to melt, like the dude in Raiders in the Lost ark who drank that holy water?   I tried to blame it on Minecraft because my son was all up in dat.  And I still claim to this day Minecraft had something to do with it.  Although the shaming finger points wholeheartedly in my direction as , case in point the whole melting-of-the-face- scenario mentioned above.

In closing, I have panic attacks when I see the swirly circle that never ends , when I click on a “screen” and it just swirls and swirls and swirls.  I envy the savvy computer dudes on Person of Interest with their lightening speed communication tankers and their access to multiple fancy-schmancy smart phones and ear pieces.   Who do they call when the “machine” is broken?  Why is everything so fast? Why are they not seeing the swirly , twirly gumdrops of death on their screen?  Why aren’t they calling in to iTunes DEMANDING to speak to a supervisor?   How come they have never left their phone in the freezer or on a running board or fallen prey to the shiny ads on their screen that “promise to make all their computer blues disappear”  Yes. I have a love-hate relationship with technology and I’m eternally grateful my husband has lots of back up files.

  • During my mad-vacumming blitz I got lodged in between the tank of a washing machine and corner of a wall and couldn’t UN-lodge myself for a good 3 minutes. I utilized my limited YOGA skills to slither out of this domesticated Jason Bourne laundry def-com crisis.
  • A massive robo blitz call went out to all parents of all schools in our area stating “your child is absent”. I did not know it was a system-glitch and hyperventilated until almost passing out while calling all the schools to reach a busy signal. Thankfully, I received the update via a text from kind friends, before face-planting on the tile.
  • My latest complaint to I-tunes is headed “Every-time I try to fix a playlist, download music or even click on the I tunes Icon,, I reach for a fork, in which I plan to stick in my eye”

Good Day.

What’s the Message

Posted: October 17, 2013 in balance, diet, eating, fitness, food, Uncategorized

We really need to see more Dove Campaign Special K type body shapes and Messages- in the Fitness /Health world. If you truly want to reach those who are having serious health risks because of their addiction to food, you have to take a good look at what society , is saying to them.  I am passionate about people seeing themselves as a whole being and being inspired versus being guilt -ed or shamed into getting off the sofa. If a person is “guilt-ed or shamed” into getting off the sofa and eating healthy, the person will not stick to a plan and make lifestyle changes. This is a fact.. Page 127 American Council and Exercise ACE Group Fitness Manual “The least effective type of motivation is a form of extrinsic motivation called intro-jection,(Deci & Ryan) With intro-jection people report being physically active because of some external factor suggested by someone else and NOT ACCEPTED BY THEMSELVES..and are likely to experience feelings of being controlled, tensions GUILT or pressure..” The chapter goes on to describe that people have to feel intrinsically motivated- Which does not come from feeling guilty about themselves. Therefore,I vote for inspiration,authenticity and humility versus “what’s your problem” or”what’s your excuse” every-time.

Speaking from a busy stay at home parent’s perspective, (yes I’m busy even though I don’t “work” full time in society’s eyes), the pressure to “do it all”, is unbelievable.  There is a major Supermom atmosphere that radiates out over myself and my friends on a daily basis and it isn’t all in our heads.  I have yet to see a cover of a magazine regarding Parenting that truly depicts what’s going on in a parent’s life.  I get it, pictures of disheveled parents , is not going to cut the mustard;however, I do think the parenting/health/fitness industry could do a much better job in providing an authentic  view of how to balance the stresses of life while creating, routines (exercise included!) into their life.

If I had to got back to work tomorrow, full-time, I know that I would not be as disciplined about it as I am today. You know why?  BECAUSE I’M HUMAN.  You are human. Give yourself a break.   I’ll admit that actually have to back off of the exercise from time to time,  because I do not want to become obsessed with working out and eating healthy because I do NOT think it’s a good message to send to my children.    I do get caught up in the comparison game but I’m much better at stopping that undeniable,self-defeating train-wreck-thoughts of destruction,  to realize that I’m doing the best I can based on my abilities. 

 

I do not know the answer on how to reach the masses in helping America fight obesity and/or unhealthy sedentary lifestyles. I think there are some great programs that do attempt to reach all parts of society. I also do know it’s a sore subject and even writing  the word obese makes me a little uneasy because I feel like America automatically associates that term  with outward “image” and/or “lazy”.  That  isn’t always the case. You have NO IDEA what’s going on in that person’s life and whats going in their life.  You have no idea if they walk 50 miles a day or if the were starved emotionally and physically as a child.  We need to stop labeling people and meeting them where they are now so they can find their intrinsic motivation!  Food may be their shield and they used it to protect themselves, my goal is to help them find another, healthier shield.


All I know is I want to help people get active and feel good about themselves because I do not want people do die from unhealthy life styles that can easily be prevented by  making slow, steady balanced challenges in their life. .  It’s NOT ABOUT SIZE.  A super. skinny runway model can be five times as unhealthy as a person that may be a little bit overweight on a “medical chart” or worse by “Cosmos’s standards”   I used to smoke, drink , and run. Sometimes all at the same time, because I thought I was a freaking rockstar! (insert electric guitar music..)  Was I healthy? heck no. Quite the opposite. I’d much rather be 10 to 15 lbs heavier with a little junk in my side trunk then ever go back to being a spindly , spidery crazy-eyed-crack-en trying to run off my the previous nights’ beer calories only to go home to chug Pinot.

My point is, life is not fair, it’s hard, there is always going to be someone that’s better, faster, thinner, more muscular , better hair, funnier personality..whatever… and some of it’s genetics, upbringing..etc.   My Dad’s nick name is Spider, so go figure, some parts of my body are natural going to be thinner, whether I eat white bread (gasp!) or not.  My sister is tall , I am not. I’m working with what my momma gave me and what I’m trying to give myself!  You need to define what a comfortable, healthy weight and size is FOR YOU , your heart and your soul. It’s the whole picture.  If you are a size 6 and you want to rob a bakery every day , have major headaches and are miserable, maybe your body is not meant to be that size.  If you let yourself got to a size 8, and you feel much better as a whole person, then you have your answer!

10 things I’m grateful for right now!

Posted: September 16, 2014 in humor
Tags: ,

I am trying to avoid Facebook because its just not a great place for me right now (wait? am I contradicting my title!! ?? wait for it…..
THE  one thing I have seen going around on Facebook which I think is pretty awesome (outside of “animals being jerks”, kids writing inappropriate essays by accident on diply.com and “smushy” baby faces)  is the “I am grateful” posts! Listed below are my 10 things I’m a grateful for right now:

1) Shelter
2) Food
3) Pintrest. I like it. I get good ideas and it’s not full of righteous condemnation or articles that link sugar consumption  to cocaine abuse or articles predicting the end if earth via genetically modified marshmallows.
4) My gratitude jar and the fact that the kids don’t quote “get it” and blurt out  “funny” responses to for its existence.
5) My kids doing their schoolwork. Yes! they complain,  but they are trying their best and that makes me happy.
6) My messy house. Yes,  I’m  still a little wide-eyed neurotic because there are Legos in my bed and bathroom but it means my children are still young and want me to hug them and give them smooshy kisses. I know this will change.
7) Forgiveness.
8) Spirituality
9) Coffee. I really do not care if people think it is “bad” for you. I’m over that reedunkulous debate. I like it and it’s a morning ritual for me that compliments my soul.
10) The license plate I saw yesterday with the word “ridqulus”. Seriously, I want one.

LITERALLY you can find something bad about EVERY SINGLE FOOD on this earth and guess what !!  it’s mostly on FaceBook!! I literally just saw five comments as to why Greek Yogurt is like “omg toats so bad for you like whatever”  I understand going after sodas, twinkies and pop rocks but..Greek FREAKING YOGURT?

This is just ONE example. Everything is under attack these days. “Bread. Grains. Nut butters. Water. Meats. Cheeses. Eat Bacon. No do not eat Bacon. Yes do. no do not. Plant protein is good. No it is bad. Yes it is good.” 
CHEEZITCRACKERS!! no wonder why people do not want to make an effort to get healthy because “health fanatics” make it so @$!##// complicated!!

Lately people seem to “troll” Facebook to smash someone’s normal view of what’s healthy and its really starting to make my blood boil, so my solution to keeping my blood icey-cold like an ice  vampire-princess is to LET IT GO through writing it OUT.

Here is  My 5 messages to people who troll and food-shame!

1) Be grateful to have food because some people literally do not have a choice.

2) “Don’t go chasing waterfalls, stick with the rivers &^/$ streams people are used too!!” (paraphrase of TLC song) Meaning,  if YOU TRULY want to help people make healthier choices, and you TRULY CARE!  KEEP IT SIMPLE and UPLIFTING!

3) STOP SAYING SUGAR IS BAD FOR YOU. Everything is bad in excess. EVERYTHING. Even healthy foods.

4) STOP PUTTING HAZ-MAT HAZARD SIGNS ON GRAIN PRODUCTS. They are not all bad for you. *

If I were overweight right now (which I was overweight after my bout with anorexia AND according to my insanely skinny OBGYN nurse when I was pregnant  with my first child) , the incessant barrage of scare-tactic-shock-awe articles AND videos of people in poor health,  would drive me right into a box of doughnuts with extra-genetically modified-chromosome-extra-saturated-fat flavored-icing.

5) Stop with the self righteous indignation. People who want to get healthy want to be INSPIRED, not chastised and lectured.

I am just tired of seeing people lean to the extreme lecture tactics under the guise of trying to help people make healthier choices. I personally think there is a huge dichotomy between being too healthy and restrictive and being too indulgent in this nation.  Yes, health is a very serious issue in our nation,  but invoking change comes from inspirational messages speckled with straight-forward-non-controversial suggestions on ways people can implement steps into their daily life to make changes in their health.

*I do not know where I stand on the GMO , Non GMO debate and for my own peace, serenity and well -being of my family, I do the best I can with the knowledge I have obtained on this subject and choose AVOID becoming intellectually embroiled on that subject matter any longer. I absolutely do not want any more information on the subject matter at this particular time in my life*

Conversation I just had with my husband:

Me: “Honey I’m having a ton of anxiety”
Him: sigh
Me: “look at this article on Facebook that shows a brain scan of a cocaine addict versus one of someone who ate sugar from this ‘Fed Up’ Page.”
Him: “It’s  called marketing and SENSATIONALISM”
Me: “But Katie Couric is a director on this documentary”
Him: “Katie Couric is a journalist. Please stop clicking on stuff like this because it makes you insane. Here look at this cute puppy!”
Me:  “I want a puppy! but what if he eats too much sugar and becomes addicted to cocaine.”
Him: Sigh.
Me: “Isn’t this all true if Katie Couric is on the board of directors? It’s gotta be true if Katie Couric directed it..I wonder what Beyonce thinks about all this. Is sugar as bad as cocaine? But I love ice cream!!”
Him: “Stop. Clicking. On. Articles. about Food. Cute. Puppy. Links. Only.
Me”: “But Katie Couric and puppies and I am just trying to talk about my feelings. I have so many feelings!”
Him: Sigh
Me: ” Should I just delete Facebook again because I get sucked into anti-happy-puppy articles?”
Him: No
Me: “But what about Katie Couric, isn’t she always right? and I bet you she doesn’t eat sugar. I bet you her and Kelly Ripa run 150 miles after Pilates every morning and then eat plain Greek yogurt with almonds”
Him: ” It’s Social Media. It’s Media. Everyone has a cause they want you to join. Except for the puppies. Focus on the puppies!”
Me: “oh man, we really should save the puppies shouldn’t we, there are so many unwanted puppies in the world!”
Him: “No we can not get a puppy right now.”
Me: “Ok. Can I sign up for some Pilates classes with Puppies?”

And that my friends, is how and why I simply cannot get sucked into “anti-happy-puppy” articles on social media because we would end up with a lot of puppies and unused Pilates Groupon thingies.

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I guess I haven’t quite buried the “my kids will never feel hunger EVER EVER EVER” demon quite yet. Sometimes I feel like I have made so much progress in my perpetual need of protecting my kids from my childhood, and then I look in the pantry. or freezer. And I am like “oh crap. I have some Journaling to do this week”

I have to laugh at myself and some of my quirks because they are a part of my DNA.  My family has no choice but to laugh with me OR feel an abundance of gratitude that we will absolutely survive a Zombie Apocalypse. In fact, we may be the “go-to” house for snacks and non-perishables. Well, except for the Ben & Jerrys. That will most likely be gone by then….

Perpetual Parenting Advice Givers or PPAG

Posted: September 5, 2014 in humor

Lately, a lot of blogs with the topic of “Unwanted Parenting Advice” (UPS) have popped up on my radar. My unsolicited gift of advice for “Perpetual Parenting Advice Givers” (PPAG) is as follows:

Unless your advice or “look of disdain” toward another parent, is TRULY rooted in a place of concern for the well-being of the child/parent, your unsolicited advice is a truly a reflection of YOUR character, not that of the parent or child.

 

Footnote? for my short blog:

I have like 67859 unfinished blogs , including on from today, I am either too long winded and verbose or too abrupt and vapid.  Twitter and Word Press make me want to put forks in my eyes.  Do writers ever find their “HAPPY PLACE?” or is it always this tortured abyss of a soul wrenching masterpiece, or my new favorite quote du jour is “a cyclical OCD ADHD projectile future apocalyptic vision of organized anarchy.”