Archive for March, 2014

2013-08-11 13.08.52

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.”
image
Pictured. Scale in boat next to anchor.

 

30 Things to Stop Doing to Yourself.

 

I wish I read this 20 years ago. Freaking AWESOME

image

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.

2013-12-03 13.00.09

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.

image

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!

image

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…..

image

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????…..