Archive for the ‘balance’ Category

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

I’m too tired to write a blog so I “screenshotted” my instagram sentiments.
I felt it blog-worthy.
questions below are rhetorical and somewhat facetious. I know chickens don’t eat grass. I know as much as I want to know about the war on GMO and I am NOT looking for a debate or an argument with the Food Babe groupies. I’m looking for balance, serenity, peace and not feel like my families insides are rotting from cancer because I eat yogurt and cheese and my kids eat sugar.

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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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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.

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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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.

 

 

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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Pictures, why did I post them? to remind myself of my “why”~ that what I do matter! Even if its as simple as wiping my bleary eyes to wipe my children’s bleary eyes (and crusty as hell , and wow where does all that nose funk come from??) to help them get ready for school.  My job is important. Sometimes , I do not feel like it is important because I do not have a career , and I have failed as a 21st century female commandeered to bust that glass ceiling. (I do break a lot of stuff because I am quite clumsy so..that must count!)

I invite all moms , dads, guardians, coaches, teachers, preachers, working, stay at home, part time working, aunts, uncles , etc~what have you, to give yourself a BREAK. BE vulnerable, honest and KIND to yourself. Raising children is the toughest job I will ever love so much that it overwhelms me with emotion.

You are trying to teach little gremlin~terminator~heart,~melting diabolical minions ~ how to survive when a) you barely have it figured out yourself all while b)  Lady Gaga is trying to out~do  Miley Cyrus’ gargantuan tongue slide tour with vomit wielding artistry???.

I invite you to come out from the “suburban supermom persona” (dad etc, trying to relate to all roles) and give the laundry pile,  the bird, you can wait one more day” !! ….. I did,. I left that sad sack of clothes right on the sofa and the angry dirty pile half in the bathroom , half in my closet. I’m a bad mama jama.

The other night , I was so overwhelmed because of some minor parenting fails and litany of chocolate milk thingy things & smores graham cracker wrappers.  slammed cupboards and begged my kids to “please please for the love of God clean up after themselves momma gonna lose her mind, up in here, up in here, yall gonna make me act a FOOOL UP IN HERE UP IN HERE” ….ok maybe Im confusing my rant with a DmX song, but I think you get it.

Anyhow, my point is, forgive yourself for not being the parent that you see on Facebook or in the magazines! Leave the bacon in the pan and linger a while longer over breakfast..(if you are vegan, leave the toffutiacon in the pan, I made that up? is it a thing?). Pat yourself on the back for NOT signing up for some personal self~ development weekend course because you realized that its just not the right time for you. Tell yourself it is okay to not want to be the hottest Mom or Dad on the block so maybe skip the workout OR start one; whichever you need to do to FEEL HEALTHY on the inside rather than show people that you “can do, have and be it all”! Stop Frontin & Start Livin’

Its okay to not be the leader, the most successful person , the superstar, or legs~with~a~gap~in~thigh~woman
( Sweet Mary I didn’t even have that when I had dangerously low body fat, so I’m hoping this trend dies hard and fast) .

Dali Lama said it best :

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And TLC said it best, “Don’t go chasing waterfalls, please stick to the rivers and lakes you are used to..”….
….. This does not mean settling for what you have, it means accepting what is right in front of you and  cherising it for all that it is at the very moment.

I have been stress case largely due in part to my fear of feeling like I do not measure up to what???? To other moms my age? To the poor Target models whose already tiny frames had their “areas” chopped out and ribcages removed to look even tinier ?? (WTF Target ??) Who exactly
am I trying to measure up to these days? I will tell you who, ME.  Im a Non cabinet closing, 2 term Pres Obama votin, hip hop beastie boy Jay z blarin,  bad driveway drivin, burpin, hair drain
cloggin, clumsy bike ridin, microwave glass breaking , Scrappie Ass Momma thats who!   **

Today I beg you to get up a be you! Stare at the mirror and say “yes, dammit maybe its Mabelline and Im so damn worth it , we have come a long way baby!!” (I mixed three slogans there). Hug the first person you see today, or smile if that is to awkward. Blare DMX, Gregorian Chant, Carrie Underwood, Metallica or Michael Buble on your JAMS today. Rent a movie that makes you laugh so hard you cry! (Or google the top 25 autocorrects, omg I almost passed out laughing). Just effin do it brah.

I gotta stop here, its late and I have a lot of FUN to accomplish tomorrow!!

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Took the picture of pile of clothes this am!

* I think Gaga/Cyrus have talents, ….so anyways, I will let some other blogging soul twerk that blog out all on its own. Please, do not assualt me on musical debate, it was meant to be humorous :)

** note, my hubs, my sister, some of my friends voted Republican so before you get your panties in a wad thinking I’m some screaming extreme liberal who doesn’t shave her legs , calm down. I shave them in the summer.
Meaning, this is not a  political blog!!!!

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.

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.

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!

“40 is the new 30″  I think I read or saw that somewhere.  Maybe Jennifer Anniston said it on the cover of Fabulously Forty. In that case, 40 through 70 is the new 30 if you LIVE IN HOLLYWOOD.  No disrespect to any celebrity that works hard to maintain a youthful glow – I totally get the yearning to have clearer, softer younger skin and not having to actually search for my lip line when applying the latest shintastic glam-slam-dunkalicous goo to my lips.

Just the other day I was rattled out of a semi 1/2 conscious afternoon moment when some dazzling looking 50 year old was screaming, I mean singing “YOU LIGHT UP MY LIFE”.   I was like, “what in the Oz great road of bricks is this all about”.   It was a commercial for life lift, a semi-surgicial procedure in which you get a face lift, but you don’t look like you got a face-lift. You know, very similar to going to get your hair highlighted or low lighted or blown out with chemicals but not so much actually  looking like you spent 6500 hours in the salon chair till your ‘tookus’ went numb all so you can get that naturally “30” looking look.  Beyond that, I’m not 100% sure what the point of screaming this song at the top of her lungs was all about and now I mute or change the channel, because quite frankly the commercial just depresses the heck out of me.

I apologize for my lack of inclusion to the twenty year old population and male gender.  Let’s face it, in your twenties, you aint’ worried about nothing and if you are a man, getting older just means looking more distinguished and they actually sell “salt and pepper” HAIR COLORING???  to get the “mature” look. I warned the twenty year olds already and I do not have a lot of sympathy for the aging male considering their metabolism doesn’t do a kamikaze  dive bomb and they cut out “cheese-itz and beer” and lose 15 lbs in a week.  I have no sympathy for their plight :)

Let’s be clear on what really happens as we venture in to this twilight era of our life.  The half-quarter-way-new-kinda-sorta-mid life crisis, depending upon whatever life expectancy is these days .  Things do not just start to fade, lose gravity, become sallow, less bendier, more crackly – they sprint.   Here’s my all time favorite, you start growing more hair on areas like your chin, your feet  and the hair you currently have on your head or legs becomes coarser and more brittle.  Really?  Is God so much of a comedian that he thinks this is funny?    I remember near my thirtieth birthday it had already started because I was driving my car and my dearest friend grabbed at my chin and said GOT IT.  I was like ” What in the rabbit’s hole of Alice’s wonderland are you doing?” She said “You had a long, dark, curly, straggly, crackly hair coming out of your chin.”   So whatever hormone that pulses through our womanly veins had started to pillage into mine at this young age.

Do you really want to know why I am writing this article, blog, vlog, or clog of words or whatever hipster terminology is out therefor randomly sharing my thoughts with the world via the internet. (OMG OH EM GEE, I sound like a forty year old).   Do you know how or why I got the idea to write about this?  I had just finished inhaling my lunch (another phenomenon that happens with age, my table manners have got down that rabbit hole with alice)…Anyways,   I often go into the parlor after lunch to read. Ok no, I don’t really do that.  I went into the “parlor” or the front room, which I utilize because it has amazing light, no not to read, I would rather squint in the dark to do that activity.  – I go into this room, to pluck my eyebrows.  Yes I use this God-given  natural light to ensure I get every last one of those hairs to create the Victoria’s Secret model arch on my brow.

Okay, again, I stretch the truth.  I  occasionally get my brows waxed, and I KNOW these ladies are smirking and talking about me in hushed tones in the back corridor. They come back with their long strip of wax dripping in their gloved hands as I squirm and reel back a little knowing the pain about to be inflicted on my amazing arch and tell me directly  that I really, truly need to stop  plucking my own eyebrows.

I cannot tell a lie, the other reason I use that room is to pluck the dark hairs that appear on my feet the morning of my fortieth birthday.  I’m not getting my feet waxed. Yes, Ill share the fact that I have man-feet with the world, but I will not allow wax to be applied to my varicose “veiny” , bony feet.  Oh yes, that’s another fantastic phenomenon that comes with age.   A more translucent , Robert Pattin son-eque skin tone, that allows the bubbly , inflamed vein of our yesteryear to debut it’s vampire-ish elegance.

And I shall end with the notion that every time you told yourself as a teen or a twenty year old “Hey it’s okay if I lie out today without any sunscreen” or “hey , it’s after 2:00, baby oil should be a safe barrier from the sun”.     You will be happily welcome what I call “oh great I have freckles now, and they aren’t cute like the girl in the Gap commercial”. They don’t cascade around your nose into cheeks and give you that  Emma Stone  adorableness. (seriously could she be any more adorable..) They are a misshapen-pea to Lima-bean shaped in size and they are the color of what you can imagine to be called “drab-khaki” in a paint store. Oh and what’s really great, if they become raised or “crusty”, you have to get them laser-ed or aqua-net freeze-dried off and biopsied at the dermatologist office for cancer! Yipee!! So fun! I have had that done a few times and it’s like a manicure ON YOUR FACE.   It’s different for everyone, depending upon their skin tone, but whatever skin-tone or color you don’t want, that’s the color of the sunspot you will have for every. time. you. “forgot” sunscreen.

If you were twenty, and you read this. I warned you.

We live in a world of polarizing extremes.   I recently got rid of a book I purchased a few years ago, titled ” So and So’s method to a flat stomach” I don’t know why I even purchased the book, lets just say it was an impulse buy during a massive outbreak of PMM- Pre-menstrual-mania. I’m sure I even purchased the book at some super cute Starbucks-BarnesNobility along with a frosted orange-cranberry -scone (my favorite treat , in case you were wondering what to bring me as a baked-good surprise.  )

I’m not immune to the strobe-light eye-bulging-pings of pictures of muscled up models , with their fashionably tousled,  frazzled hair and looks of  undeniable pain and beautiful desperation in their face with quotes such as “If you do not look like me while you are working out, then you should go eat that orange-cranberry -frosted scone while you sob in the corner for not pushing yourself this morning, you lazy , sad person”  Yes, I’m being facetious with my quote; however, unless you live in a hole, you have seen something of this sort somewhere in a magazine, in social media or at the nail salon while buffing up your nails.

I have been down the exercise-lunatic road-  secretly running at 3 am in Boston Massachusetts, ironically “hiding” my completely obvious obsessive compulsive-exercise disorder in the depth of the pre-Team Jacob  hour, praying that no-one would notice my mania.  I would- pretend I was “just taking out the trash” when I came back dripping wet, limping from overused tendons and shaking from hunger in my “running clothes.”  I have had to ceremoniously burn all my fitness fanatic magazines as a form of therapy to rid myself of the demons to have what I thought might have been the perfect figure because I imagined that punishing myself for eating would bring me peace, content and eternal happiness.

I really do not know many women (and some men) who struggle with their body size, image & food intake,  etc on a daily basis. Lest, here I am again , teaching fitness , joining a run club and blogging about what continues to creep into my mind , yes sometimes on a daily basis  Am I dancing with the flame that burnt me to the ground twenty years ago? Should I teach Dance as fitness? (which I came to the conclusion after a few classes that , no , this might not be my skill set , as Carlton Banks tried to sue me for stealing his patented moves)  I have also listed other questions that pop up in my mind and minds of others due to the insidious ADHD’ness of the fitness-fanatic posts..

“Am I working out enough? Am I eating too many carbs?  Am I eating enough carbs? Are carbs and grains really that bad for you?  Seriously now fruit has too much sugar in it??  Am I doing the right exercises? Should I be lifting weights more because strong is the new sexy which is the new skinny which, inevitably the people lifting still look pretty darn skinny so that’s just totally confusing and overwhelming? Should I try to lose 5lbs because someone asked me to be in their challenge group to “get fitter?”   STOP!!!

I want to inspire and motivate people to be and live a healthy lifestyle; yet not let it consume them in a negative self-centered, controlling manner.  I haven’t figured out the best means to carry out this message, but I am learning slowly that standing up for the us “middle-grounders” is a good place to start.  You can be healthy, run, exercise, walk, jog, crawl, teach, box, tae-bo, turbo, ski , jump, hop , bungy jump , swim, zumba, dance, frog jump, play red-light , green light or what have you  and ENJOY IT!  I guess I just feel like health& fitness on social media sends the message that inevitably frightens people the most that really need a reason and an authentic, stimulating catalyst to get up and start appreciating exercise as a part of their life that’s flippin’ fun! not agony!!!!

As I am trying to put into my own words, I’ll lean on the very media that sometime pushes the negative voices in ourselves to an advertisement that literally makes me want to cry because I’m so in love with the message.  I’m referring to the Special K advertisement currently on tv. (google it!).  In a nutshell it’s a variety of beautiful women, all different shapes and sizes, trying on “size-less’ jeans ,with words of inspiration as tag instead of “size x, y or z”.  This advertisement is such a breath of fresh air betwixt the other messages of “do or die to get to a size” .

The inspiration for this blog was my post on Facebook today “What do you think of the popular fitness/health Facebook post “Abs are made in the kitchen”.    Here is a quick summary on how I feel about this post:

  • Being healthy & exercise is more about how I feel than looks. Yes- I want to feel confident about myself- but quilting my way out of something enjoyable to have ripped-up abs- is just not my cup of Joe- Plus Cups of Joe should be starting in the kitchen..For me, it about feeling peaceful & healthy and intuition and moderation play and major role in my decision making when it comes to eating. I do not measure, count calories or weight myself.  (ok, occasionally I step on the scale, but I really try to avoid at all costs)  I am not saying that people who want to lose weight – should follow my protocol, I’m just saying that if I’m not listening to my body in terms of what I feel like I need to eat , and stop when I am full and I’m going by a calorie counter- I end up feeling deprived, restricted and angry.  
  • Please let it be noted, I’m not disrespecting anyone who uses these methods to stay healthy, I think that’s awesome! I’m a HUGE HUGE fan of weight watchers and my fitness pal.c om because it does encourage moderation and nothing is “off limits, I’m simply referring to how my brain works and hoping to inspire people to think about a variety of ways to be healthy, lose weight, gain muscle – etc!

In closing, Do not let your self worth be determined by number on a scale, jean size at  Jones, or a flat stomach flapping in magazine in front of you.    Ok, I wanted my blog to have more of a humorous slant, but for me this is a serious subject too because of the fact that anorexia and obesity are one of the same disease. They are eating disorders, and both should be treated as such. Do you know that when I was anorexic, my therapist made me go to Over-eaters Anonymous?  What the frack?  Well, what I realized is that OA, is not just about – overeating!, it’s about using food to control your emotions!!!  Therefore, my message to anyone that may be struggling with eating and health,  if you feel like you have a serious problem- there is help, and getting control of the emotional aspect of literally “what’s eating away at you”, is the first step in freeing yourself from emotions that bind you into using food/exercise (lack of /overuse) I will list a few hotlines, links below.  Thanks so much for reading! I hope i have inspired or helped at least one person to take the step for a health life , that is not driven by a jean size or a scale number.

http://www.oa.org/

http://www.nationaleatingdisorders.org/

http://www.recoverymonth.gov/