Archive for the ‘comedic writing’ Category

Oh it’s that time.  the Holiday Hoedowns.  Secret Santa Elephant Tree Recycle Gala.   The” WHEN DID I SIGN UP TO DO THIS?”  The, “Should I even try to add WHOLE wheat flour to the Christmas baking again so I can be rejected by my family and end up sobbing with a bag of cookies in the corner?” The “WHY AM I BAKING?  because the kitchen looks like an episode of the ‘Blindfolded Chef searches for a Bachelor who can cook”

Due to my ADHD-OCD  tinged with the incessant need to plan, pre-plan , over-plan, cancel plans -  juxtaposed with my spontaneous and carefree nature,   all recorded in hand- written calendarS, glitter adorned journals, smart-phone-gratitude -app-journals, sticky-note-hoarding-piles and this gem:

What was that phrase someone EMBLAZONED ON A GIANT PILLOW FOR ME  “Keep it…Keep it…oh darn, what was it                                               (simple.)

November 20th  I volunteered to help out with a science experiment at my son’s school. I  failed all lab experiments in College so I should be a beneficial asset. .. Maybe driving around listening to Journey and Rob Base in my friend’s car with the really LOUD speaker system, during lab, wasn’t the best use of my collegiate time.

November 21st  the 56790th orthodontist appointment this month.  My son’s expander fell out of his mouth. He denies any starburst consumption as the cause.  (‘Da Dun’ SVU music playing..)

November 22nd Nutcracker practice.  I ignored all emails from Dance Director because I assumed  vicariously living through my children through  Hip Hop Dance Class would translate into non-Nutcracker performances because  If it were my Dance Studio, I would do the whole Run DMC Christmas in Hollis Queens Dance Recital, yet maybe why I do not own a Dance Studio. #bizloandenied. Seriously, I am excited for them to be apart of The Nutcracker, sometimes the facetious nature of pointing out my idiosyncrasies, sounds way too sarcastic and flip.

November 23rd, same thing as above but I also have written “Truck $4382648732649873687264  payment”,hmmm, what could that mean?

Week November 24, my husband informed me we would be leaving for his Mee Maw and Pee Paws EARLY this vacation week because ‘I needs to get to cookin’.’    No I’m just kidding, he did not say this 1950s , stereotypically Southern phrase.  He did say we were leaving early, I missed the rest of what he said because the previews for ‘Mocking-JAY-part-1-of-56-HungerGames-omg-jlaw-is-literally-so00000amazing‘  was on the television.

  • Additionally, TAKE beautiful candid pictures next to cool barns and pastures, in hipster outfits with our Soap Opera messy-gelled- straight-curly with feathery wisps – gently cascading in the wind and ostensibly, in front of our face, but not -  “OMG-PLEASE-GET-YOUR-HAIR-OUT-OF-YOUR-FACE-FOR-THE-PICTURE!!!” — for Christmas cards.  Or see what the Kardashians cooked up this year and try to imitate that Goth masterpiece.   I love how my computer tries to spell check Kardashian to Guardianship.

December 3rd some kind of appointment for some child in my house AND I signed up to be a Secret Santa helper on the same day on purpose for some reason.  I think I actually wrote “intentional” on my calendar.

December 4th, a bunch of automatic payments are coming out of our account because it’s all red and highlighty on my calendar, wait I thought all payments were frozen to boost Holidays sales because that is the primary purpose of the season, cash-money.

December 5th  USA?  what does that mean? or USAA? ok, o think we owe them something monthly, maybe that thing that protects us from being sued if we drive horrendously in parking lots.

December 6th  Dress rehearsal for the Nutcracker AND My daughters chorus concert…rest Assured, I have emailed all affected Directors and  thoroughly explained my scheduling plight in grave detail, because essentially, all of these concerts and recitals are ABOUT ME and ONLY ME and collaterally pertains to the scheduling of my family.

December 7th. The NutCracker.  It’s gonna be Crunk.

December 8th “alkajdfp987349823″ I can’t read my handwriting. I think it’s someone’s birthday. Oh Snap, my sisters birthday is the 6th. and the 16th.  and the 12 and maybe the 8th.  I have 3 sisters, so . carry the 1 and…. Usually I just send them their birthday cards when I send the Christmas cards which are all late. It’s the thought that counts.

December 11th.  Help a teacher out.  Bring in Kale/Quinoa/gluten–dye-soy-dairy-air free Holiday PinTree-cakes drizzled with wheat grass infused compote.

December 13th an appointment on a Saturday?  WHO IS THE KEEPER OF THIS CALENDAR?

December 14th.  34500000 sticky notes on the fridge on how I really need to get shopping and wrapping. wrapped up.

I also bookmarked some article in Huffington Post titled “The disease of being over scheduled?”  Maybe I will read that in between unknown doctors appointment and Secret Santa on December 3rd.   Happy Holidays  (Which, as a phrase, is a hot-trending-topic right now on Social Media, get the popcorn out…..  )

 

We all have bad habits.  My worst habit (right now)  is thinking that if I “miss” something on my phone , the world might implode, as though, I’m an omnipotent-phone-puppet master.  There are some amazing benefits of smart phones, that have helped me tremendously in my life  I simply need to make a few tweaks for balance:

I absorb EVERYTHING as though it is directed at me personally that I need to change in my life. 15 pack abs?  Gifted writing skillzzz? Poetry slam master? Home Business Mogul? Super Mom Pintrest Planner? Kick box Dancing Runner? Yoga-Pilates-Yoda-Mind-Bender? Motivational Speaker who can Rap the Psalms?  Traveling Comedian Nurse to terminally ill patients? Doctors without Borders WHO CREATE Peaceful borders through their Martha-Stewar- Dali- Lammad approach to packing perfect  Bento lunches?

SERIOUSLY !$@!!  I SEE THIS s$/# ON THE INTERNET or the Inter Webs or The Freaking Matrix itself and think “I NEED TO SIGN UP FOR THIS SEMINAR NOW SO I CAN DO THAT THING SO I CAN SAVE THE WORLD FROM THE EBOLANIAN POLAR VORTEX with the ADAM LEVINE PROACTIVE VACCINE”

Ask my husband how many “seminars” I have asked to purchase or how many “careers” I have pursued in our blissful 11 years of marriage. He may have to pull out a counting machine thingy .

You are probably thinking:

a) “You have a God Complex”
b) “You have  ADD”
c) “You need to get a job”
d) “Wow! I am exactly like you”
e) “Here is the number to my shrink”
f) “Have you tried Zoloft?”
g) “Oh Snap! My Kohls Cash EXPIRES TODAY”

Honestly, they are probably all true except I already used my Kohls cash as I had 56 reminders on my phone and 670 sticky notes on my fridge.   Additionally, I  do have many ‘jobs’ and I am never, ever, ever bored.  You will never hear me utter those words “I Am bored”. Have you read my blogs?

For the most part B) (ADD)  trumps most of my “bad” habits. However B) also trumps my good habits and stimulates my creativity AND I’M  convinced I’m the #1 rated sitcom in Heaven based on how I go about my daily tasks. I KNOW! , for certain God is not going to discontinue programming on my ADD, because He is roaring with raucous laughter  and it makes me, ME I’m freaking hysterical, just simply waking up in the morning.:)

I’m so incredibly tired of feeling like I need to be “fixed”. I’m tired of feeling guilty for having severe ADD (I have been tested,  it’s off the charts ).  I REFUSE to use any of my defects, ailments or ADD as a crutch or an excuse for accomplishing my own individual goals. One of which is to write a damn book. I say damn because I have stopped and started for some many innocuous reasons,and it causes me to say “damn” a lot

I do not want to be cured, scanned or medicated. (I do take Zoloft because I have tried life with out it and let’s say, I would be in my bed in a ball of tears or running a marathon every week, without it’s presence in my body, and I am a FIRM believer of pharmaceutical medicine and it’s benefits when it’s used to help people feel emotionally, physically and mentally healthy NOT to mask and drown symptoms like a cheap bandaid)

I digress. My point is, I’m done looking for the “fix” in my phone or thinking that I could “break” someone or something right away if I don’t respond to their text/VM/FB post inbox etc etc etc IMMEDIATLELY ! I AM Enough without my phone and I am not going to change the world through my phone. I can however, bring love, light, inspiration and laughter to people with the aid of my phone if I find the proper balance.

Everyone in the diet/health industry is on this 21-25 day restart/reset/redo program. I think the concept is fabulous because social science dictates that it takes 23 days to make or break a habit (I literally pulled that last sentence out of my a$$, because I am not going to get distracted with Google right now :)). I learned it somewhere, probably from Google, so therefore, it’s true.

My solution  is as follows:

For 23 days, here is my, SIMPLE, 3 step plan:
A) Check Phone in am – 1x for alarm, weather AND NOT CHECK AGAIN UNTIL 10 ( UNLESS C) OCCURS)
B) Pick 2 x a day to respond to texts /gmails/calls/FB etc. yikes. maybe 3, 10AM , 2PM, 9PM
C) Put ringer on daily , so I don’t have to “check” to see if school called about the children  and get sucked in to see what celebrity lost how many pounds while  taking what crazy fruit/seed/hcgglutenfree extract while holding their breath with sugar on their nose for 21 days.

I somewhat recognize the Irony of this post; however like I said, I’m trying to focus on the postive of the smart phone /social media influence; rather than ‘bashing it’ or quitting it all together.

Thanks for your time! Now go check your Kohls Cash!!!

The inspiration from this blog is from Baby Sideburns most recent blog https://www.facebook.com/BabySideburns. She’s a brave soul, I think of her as the Joan Rivers of Momhood.  She says what a lot of people are thinking but too afraid to say out loud, including myself.  I applaud her bravery and b^%$ack.

It does seem like a monsoon  of Lily Pulitzer photo shoots and families who cut sugar out of their diets as a way to protect their children from this cocaine like substance* on the internet in general (not just social media) .  When I start to compare and question, I turn to writing and humor. It helps.  Here is my ‘tell all’ of the week to allow people to breath and bond with those of us who still feel like we are trying to find ourselves in a myriad of sculpted gym-selfies and Moms holding their quintuplets over their heads like barbells while making gluten-soy-dairy-ingredient-free-granola bars by using their actual washboard abs as washboards to wash the steel-cut oats and cutting the oats with their triceps-of-steel muscles. ALL WHILE using the low-glycemic-core-burning-vegan-paleo-raw molasses they collected from the Organic farm 500 miles away THAT THEY collected on their bike with their babies behind them in BOB Bike-chariots.**

( My son’s language art teacher should use this paragraph as an example of a reedunklous-compound-delcarative-sarcastic sentence!!! or imperative?)

1). In the show The Goldbergs, Murray, the father figure comes home and takes off his pants as soon as he walks in the door.   I do this with my bra, pretty much anytime I am in the house.  If “company” arrives, I have headlight covers and if I can not find them, I use other things like band aids and right now at this very minute I have panty-liners on my boobs.   I mean, what actually ‘counts’ as a brassiere?   I’m blessed that the twins are less than average so I don’t have to worry about the panty-liners performing the service of preventing back pain. ( I know that’s not “their” service..I hope you get the point.)

2) My son is not sick and I used my ‘Mom-stinct” to keep him home from school based on mental health.  Gasp if you want too.  In fact, I JUST said “Hey kid, snatch me up one of dem Chobanis and bring it up to yo Momma”. I guess it’s better than asking him to get me a bottle of Mad-dog? Oh yes for all you “Bless her heart she’s a hot mess” commenters,,, He’s playing Minecraft too. Maybe even Call of Duty.  Get over it. (PS I had to get my own Chobani. Pray for me).

3) I re-wash laundry and dishes so I don’t have to “deal with it” right now.

4) I absolutely cannot fold and put away clothes if the floors or toilets are dirty. I don’t care about dust or even the counters…. It’s extremely bizarre. I am sure if you googled on WEBMD there would be a disorder for this type of behavior. Like the loophole in OCD? Maybe OCD for medicricity? OH yes, “MEDI-OCD-RITY DISORDER”   = the ability to get some isht done while talking about  what you did not get done while referring to the isht you did get done on a daily basis.

5) Sometimes, if I’m feeling particularly downtrodden, I become engulfed in blogs/articles about celebrities, who are not ‘nice people’ in real life. I read one about Justin Timberlake  and then I got really really sad and ‘let down’ as though I would expect him to be “down to earth” after ACTUALLY BRINGING SEXY BACK TO US!    As long as the Jimmyies (Fallon and Kimmel) stay cool, bro. I also just read a horrific article about Christopher Columbus. He  was not a nice person at all (according to this article) STOP. Do not Google. He’s dead. It’s already a holiday. Unless someone in government agrees to swap Columbus  Day out with Anderson Cooper Silver Fox day, I am not interested in fighting that fight. (in my book Anderson Cooper really should get the credit for bringing sexy back).

6) I like to drink a large carbonated beverage really fast to see how long and loud I can burp.  I am insanely jealous of people who can burp songs. Oh what I would do to be able to burp the lyrics to “Sexy Back.” or burp the news with Anderson Cooper.

7) I do not like Taylor Swift’s music.  I would rather listen to Glenn Beck predict the end of the world through a megaphone in my ear while I am trying to go to sleep.

8) Sometimes when I hear lyrics from rappers who talk about being able to “set a cup on dat bootie”, I am insanely jealous of   this built-in convenience.  I could eat a entire bowl of cereal on my belly, standing-up while pregnant, and that was the best part of both my pregnancies.  I have no shame in saying, Peas in da Pod Maternity Shop did not ask me to model for them because of my incessant pregnancy glow and demeanor.  I waddled and ‘Swole up’ like a bad batch of botox.  My feet permanently grew 1/2 inch.

9) Some people say ADHD is a myth. It doesn’t exist. It’s a excuse for procrastination.  Oh my loves, you have not met me.  I have tried medicines. Not eating sugar. Not eating. Eating. Drinking =(which did help, but NOT a solution) Yoga. Roga. Moga. Loga. Lola. I have tried it all. Yes, certain things help with this part of my life, but I ABSOLUTELY do not use it as an excuse, I see it as a gift because it does spark creativity and maybe a way to help other people.  Although, my husband may see it as a minor annoyance when it’s like an episode of the Sixth Sense in the mornings with every cupboard is wide-open from here to kingdom come and back. I do not see dead people though. Well I see Columbus in a different light now after that article, but I digress.

10) Summer is my least favorite season. I am not a huge fan of “lounging by the pool”.  I would much rather be in a hammock, wrapped up in a blanket on a cloudy day reading Stephen Colbert’s “I am America and so can YOU” burping and drinking seltzer water flavored with Skinny Girl Acai Blueberry mix-in (non alcoholic).   Oh and I don’t care for the term ‘Skinny Girl” but dayum, she made a good flavor thingy for waters!

Bonus:  The majority of spills, burn marks (before you judge, no it’s not cigarettes, I set the lizards’ heat lamp on the rug BEFORE the timer went off and forgot about it, until I smelled it three rooms away) and accidents on the carpet are from me running around sloshing my coffee every which way but in the cup AND I lose my coffee cup once a day, so there is usually 1 or 2 cups of 1/2 filled coffee cups anywhere at any given time.

*I am being facetious. For those who are new to my blog, I am mostly facetious. I do not think sugar is like cocaine but according to Katie Couric, it is like cocaine and Katie Couric is kind of the Vice President to Oprah so….

**(which by the way, we tried this, and neither my husband or I lasted a mile, kudos to those who run or bike with their babies in rickshaws)

 

I feel like my brain is in this perpetual world of trying to find myself. A writer?  A blogger?  A stream of conscious writer-murderer?  A compound-sentence destroyer?  A mother? A wife? A sister?  A daughter?   A maid?  A laundry avoid-er?* A celebrity factoid expert? A closet wanna-be-back-up dancer for Missy Elliot? A Nae Nae-dance-you-tube-watcher?

I know it’s all about balance , but the internet and “advice columns” and the such, make you feel like their is something wrong with you if your not chasing success driven opportunities like a thirteen year old chasing down the band members of One Direction.  We all can’t be elite or at the top of our game all day, everyday; yet society will not let you get away at thinking this simple thought even for a second.

For me, success  is doing something everyday to help people feel better about themselves  through my writing and  daily interactions. (even if it’s a tiny act of kindness) ..  And maybe try to knock out the ‘Nae Nae’ from time to time when I finally do get around to folding and putting away laundry.  Above all, I absolutely chase a sense of inner peace completely absent of anxiety,  more than I chase society’s definition of success. True serenity crashes  against the grain of  today’s modern woman.  Therefore, there is this perpetual tug of war in my brain “to get it all done, SON” and “Its OK to hit the wrinkle shield button several times”

Through my daily readings/ interactions and even from myself, I find one common theme, especially with woman.  We are failing at something. ( our weight, our bodies, our career, our marriage, our life , our eating habits)  or they are working so hard to keep it all together and stay fifty steps ahead of everyone else that they do not seem to have time to enjoy life or a bowl of ice cream without feeling guilty because they have ingested  “empty calories”. – (Whoever came up with the term ‘empty calories???’)

I find that when there is insurmountable pressure to be the best or act our best 100% of the time, this carves the way for some very dark, lonely days with the shades drawn like a vampire, eating ice cream and feeling guilty because you did not choose the bowl of  undressed super food kale. (I had a lady verbally give me the recipe for an OIL FREE dressing that she puts on her Kale , I was like WHAT IS THE POINT?, but I smiled and nodded because I know all to well the feeling of trying to stay inside the rigid guidelines of what a 43 woman should or should not enjoy for food  on a daily basis.)

In this journey of trying to find MYSELF, my purpose in life, I have decided that my two  goals in writing especially, is to   1) make people LAUGH  2) inspire people to feel enough with who they are at the core (this does not mean “never change”, this means inspire people to accept their strengths and their flaws and make changes to improve their overall mental and physical health as THEY HAVE decided, not decided by society).

Lists of 5 or 10 things do well in the blogging sphere because it helps center people on certain topics that they can relate too individually or pull them together in commonality.   Without further ado, Here are ten funny “things” that have happened lately to invoke laughter  and inspire you to be yourself, laugh at yourself and not beat yourself up for making mistakes or being less than perfect:

My husband and I went to NYC with some friends. It was awesome (I would write a travel blog on my adventures, but (a) I do not do well at loading pictures( b) I am not a travel blogger, and you would be asleep by now). …BUT I do like to tell funny stories about traveling so my first 6 funnies will be from this trip:

  1. I did not even blink or bat an eye in confusion when my friend suggested that we visit Alcatraz when we visited the Statue of Liberty.  And I have been to San Fran. So I should know that Alcatraz is not on the East Coast. I was like “OMG LET”S DO THAT!”
  2. It was in the mid 80s (end of September) and even though I checked the weather, I still brought coats, boots and heavy sparkly jeans.  I was hot. I made a hurried purchase at Express for cooler clothes, while the sales clerk sold me tons of stuff I did not need to stay cool for the next 24 hours, then I saw the look of “WTF ARE YOU DOING?” on my husband’s face and returned it all to the same sales clerk who was like “WTF ARE YOU DOING! YOU CRAZY TOURIST?”
  3. I love scones and I love NYC bakeries. Hell, I love bakeries.  I was on a 24/7 mission to eat a scone at every bakery we walked past daily.  And we walked a lot.
  4. I love Falafel.  I kept saying “OMG I have got to get some Falafel from one of the street food vendors.  But I was too full from eating scones every 35.5 seconds.  So I come home form NYC and buy everything to make Falafel.
  5. I bought so many baked goods at a bakery that the New Yorker behind me asked if I was going on a picnic.
  6. I HAD to go running in Central Park just to say “I ran in Central Park!”.  Even though my feet hurt and  it felt like Georgia and I can run in the hot humid sun anytime I want in Georgia, I just had to go running in Central park. I barely made one mile and I was like “WTF ARE WE DOING?                      —————————————————————-Since I have been back from New York, here are funny mishaps:
  7. I left my journal at a pizza joint this week OVERNIGHT before I remembered the next day.  I literally said (when I called to see if it was there) “I hope you guys didn’t sit around reading it.”  Like I am a celebrity or something.
  8. Our orthodontics payment came out as “cash withdrawal” in a far away land and I PANICKED , and most certainly tried to convince the bank operator that someone was siphoning money from our account before she asked “Is there  someone in your house who may have braces?”   ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.   Ok.
  9. I find that when I separate laundry, my categories have changed from the generic, lights, whites and other colors to “extremely smelly and dirty,”to “kind of dirty and smelly too”, “yes indeed, this pile can wait another week”
  10. When I get irritated, frustrated the song “Momma said Knock you Out” (LL COOL J)  pops into my head and I am instantly calmed.  I just hope the Dali Lama approves of this mediation tactic.

Bonus.  I have the windows open and the air conditioning on and our downstairs closet door will not close because it’s full of flip flops and closed-toed-shoes.  October is a confusing month.

 

 

 

*   (apparently I had to make up the word avoid-er ecause the proper noun for a person who avoids things does not exist? or does it?  I googl-ed “noun for avoiding things” and I broke Google. I guess googl-ed is not a word either.  Maybe I should work for Websters and help beam new words from the annals of crazy suburban blogging into being.

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

And No, I am not drinking.

 

 

 

 

 

image

let me break it down: 
1) Armageddon of arts, crafts & !$@## . this pic doesn’t do it justice. I dumped it all downstairs & hubby turned on a Mark Wahlberg movie THEN he cut me off from  Markie mark because I was just sitting in a pile of art supplies with my mouth gaped open watching tv.
2) a lonely bin of crafty crafts that will not stay like this.
3) the door to this cabinet used to be the door to an episode of hoarders.
4) all the misc &^/#! that needs a home.
5) games in the coffee table container thingy majig that annoys me ,  due to its massive size versus lack of functionality & the fact that my kids hide their vitamins and trash in it.
the end.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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