Archive for April, 2014

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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This quote “don’t need much splainin'” but I’m a writer so, ‘splainin’ is my business.

I’m a messy perfectionist betwixt a swiss cheese layering of benevolent narcissism.   I struggle with thinking my best isn’t ever good enough (for who ?? See below) and as much as I try NOT TO,  I absolutely do compare myself to my peers. Im human. I am shocked when people really LIKE me and I sm just as shocked when they don’t really LIKE me.

My therapy? Group therapy. Writing. Mediation. Music. Specifically , bootie music (I have blogged about this a few times. :)) Exercise (in moderation). Apologizing when I am wrong. (Which is a lot) . Good food. I am a foodie. Bc I do love layered foods and I hate feel deprived or ‘hangry’ as the hipster call it. (Sometimes healthy &sometimes because I want a piece of lemon pound cake. ) Moderation. BALANCE. Writing. Writing. Writing & more writing. Laughter. Laughter. Laughter. And more laughter.

I need to read more and analyze less. I need to chill more and analyze less. I need to ‘be in the now’ more and analyze less. I need to feel more and analyze less. When I was a child, my father constantly and consistently told me to ‘slow down’.

If you take away one thing from this short blog, it should be this. You will never regret to moments where you just let youself accept yourself where you are at this VERY MOMENT.

Dream and Grow but don’t criticize yourself for all the you are and all that you will be AT THIS VERY MOMENT.

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Footnote ** I “stole “don’t need much splainin'” from Jason Derulos new song and “benevolent narcissism” from Rob Lowes description of himself. Read Steal Like an Artist by Austin Kleon.

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.