Archive for the ‘comedy’ Category

For most of my life, I have tried to be a chameleon.  If you were a Republican, I was in the Tea Party. If you liked country music, I was Carrie Underwood’s second cousin.  I am not political, although I love political humor, and my play list is labeled with such gems as,  “‘Bootie’ Music Explosion” and “Crunkalischious”.    Living in Southern Suburbia, with a New England background swearing more than the ladies in the movie “The Fighter”, there is a fine line between being myself and causing people to exclaim”Oh Heavens, what did she just say, fetch me the vapors Scarlett.”    Here are just a few reasons, why I probably should not run for any Southeastern School District PTO:

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. I think I snorted.

2) I did not wear my flowing Luau attire, with my gold~lame~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.   I wore ridiculously high wedges. My outfit was a cross between an Aeropostle sale and 2010 Express’s spring line.

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  “Let’s all make sure we make good choices during musical chairs”  , I am more along the lines of “For the love of all that is tranquil, please LISTEN TO THE WORDS THAT ARE COMING OUT OF MY MOUTH”.

6) I do not like bouncy houses. They freak me out, so if I were on the PTO, they would be banned. I would nominate 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.

7) I just don’t think I have PTO hair. I can fix the front, but by the time I get to the back of my head, my arm is aching from trying to fix the same section so I relinquish the battle to a mop of glop. 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. You know the song “I woke up like this” by Beyonce. Yeah, I wrote that, but it has completely different context where I am concerned.

8) I kind of have a two hour window on when I feel like I’m 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 com-bust in the church recreational room either!!).  I do not have the “You are not making good choices” vernacular.  I most certainly did not make good choices as I child. I was kind of a rebel. A free spirit. I talked back and “sassed” and was probably on the “problem list.”   Today at the pool I muttered a string of profanity while my kids had swimming lessons, with a very religious , gentle-souled teacher. I’m pretty sure I saw her throw water on me and pray.

9).  I do have a bad case of “Resting Bleep Face.  It’s not that I am angry all the time, my lips literally curve downwards and I have two ‘Victor Newman’ scorned wrinkles between my eyebrows, and kids generally do not respond well to my Victor Newman tyranny.

10).  Right now, as I am writing this blog, my daughter whined “It’s already 11:02 mommy, the party is probably over, (it started at 11:00), because we are running late.  I clenched my fists, squinted my Victor Newman eyes, and whined right back to her “pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, oh puhleeze, let me jussssssssssst finish this… ” and my lips curved downward, even further to illustrate what I like to call “Active Bleep Face”.

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. I have yet to hear back from my complaint at said hospitals.

I do know who and what I am. I over-try. I over-compensate. I actually sweat and my fit-bit explodes with “goals-met”, while I’m parenting. Sometimes it comes out side-ways and some Moms might find me , unsavory.  My R.B.F, or A.B.F, is not haughty disdain for other moms or the PTO Mom, it’s knowing I can’t always protect my kids from the world and I do wear that on my sleeve, a lot.
No, I’m not PTO-Mom material, and I learned how to own “that” FROM my children. I watch them and  soak up every single bit of their tenacity and confidence infused into the cells of their young people souls. I learned that trying to be something I am not, only brings confusion. I can only hope that one day, they are holding hands with Joe Biden’s kin, drinking unapproved water bottles, laughing at inappropriate jokes, and being unequivocally themselves.  (I mean, it would be awesome, if it were at a Republican convention, but let us not get greedy…)

 

I just read a blog about how French Parenting is superior to American Parenting. According to this article* . We give our children too many snacks and try too damn hard.

As I’m writing this, I’m staring at my Snack Arsenal from Target and my kids had Pringles for dinner, and maybe breakfast. (Its summer break here, so calm down). I’m officially over parenting comparisons, Mommy Wars and juxtaposition of the working versus stay at home parent. Seriously, It’s gone European Viral now.

Here is a snapshot of my wildly spoiled indulgent American Parenting. I wouldn’t change it for every baguette or hot buttered croissant in France and I freaking love French pastries.

1) My son came up stairs while I was half asleep and said “Hey Mom, watch this ” and blew a Spitball at me.
“Isn’t it cool, I made a Spitball machine out of all the straws and tissue in the house” as he wipes his nose on his sleeve.

2) My daughter woke me up in the dead of sleep by coughing into my face. “Mommy I have a bad cough.  fix me”

3) Operation Treadmill Explosion is our version of the Bourne Identity.
My son put my exercise core ball thingy on the treadmill , hit the highest mileage and elevation , until it exploded into core bits. I will NEVER have that six pack of ‘mommy abs’ now

4) My kids hide their dirty clothes with masterful deception rather than just placing them in the dirty laundry hamper. I’m pretty sure French kids do their own laundry while singing French camp songs.

5)  Screen Time. I don’t set limits. It works itself out for the most part.
Gasp away.

6) I miss my kids when they are at school but I have full -blown-splotched –chest-panic-attacks when I think about snow days and summer breaks. Apparently the French are just relaxed about everything and everyone when it comes to parenting. Isn’t the word anxiety a derivative of a French word? Googled it. 16th century France ya’ll.

7) Stomach viruse day is always on “French-anti-Snack Day” which means they ate full meals and the all messy home-cooked-bathed-in-acid-non-snack food, ends up  on the one clean spot of carpet or my head. French will-away stomach viruses with their philosophical views or they catch the vomit in their berets.

8) My kids think kleenex and general hygiene is kryptonite  for their soul. Isn’t the word handkerchief French?

9) American Children recognize their power in numbers. French children quietly make cupcakes while their parents work.

10) American children dance when they eat and they dance on their food like it’s prey. If they don’t like the food , they don’t eat the food and fully express their complete whiny American admonishment for any meal I put- ‘le-petite’ – effort into, especially if it’s French-ish themed like homemade ‘pomme-frites’.

I love my American Parenting style and every parenting expert advice article I see on the internet is met with the glaring whites of my eyes. Yes, that sounds pretty haughty and bourgeoisie (which I just Googled spelling), or ‘bougee’ as we Americans say about people who “try too hard” to elevate their “social class”.

image

In conclusion, Please insert some philosophical french retort here as all my snack-eatin’ time has french-fried the recesses of my brain which houses four years of French class.

Cest Tout Chiennes.

*French Parenting blog:
http://www.wsj.com/articles/SB10001424052970204740904577196931457473816

I just spent 1.5 hours on the inter webs researching the best face creams because the news is so unbelievably depressing, every sponsored ad on Facebook is how to get, stay or be HAWT for the damn Holidays  all while mastering the program of bolstering your Super Mom-treprenuer productivity by 70000% and Pin all “dis” on Pintrest.

I have no desire, none whatsoever, to “eat a sensible snack” before Mee Maws Cheese on Cheese topped with Cheese Macaroni and Cheese Lovers (with a side of butter) casserole is served.  Why on God’s Green earth would I want to fill in the spaces of my stomach with a kale smoothie before Mee Maw sets down a delicious spread of hot bubbly extra gluten , extra dairy, extra carb-o-rific casserole in front of my gleaming eyes and rumbling stomach? As much as I try to eat healthy, I will be dammed if I am going to eat a meal, before a meal, to avoid over-eating at said second meal.

If I see one more article on how MomtreprenPintrestuer Molly Mae, defies the time-space continuum by mastering bento lunches,  890 recyclable crafts and home schools her gifted eldest cat Freddie, all while penning her Momster Mania novel, I might actually just eat gluten straight out of the bag and throw my aspartame laden soda away. in the trash.

Due to the onslaught of violent CNN outbreaks and incessant gym-selfies, I told Facebook “I don’t want to see this anymore” meaning anything other than Grumpy Cat.  I was also referring to the 7987th sponsored ad with a wide-eyed, fluffy haired, sweaty model asking me if I had the fortitude to be the new strong which was the old skinny. Wait what?   Additionally, I could gain the knowledge on how to acquire an abdomen so tight I would evenhandedly put Spanxx out of business.  To which Facebook asked me 6570 more questions as to why I had the audacity to question the strong, yet tiny model who ironically bolsters the “new skinny of strong” image of 7% body fat while also trying to convince me sugar was the new cocaine.

Does your brain hurt now? I understand because my brain hurts too.  I thought what better way to clear the wreckage of a scowl hangover on Facebook, then to search for an anti-aging serum for my tired face.  (Additionally I also went down memory lane for a “throw back” Thursday photo and realized that all the fat I had in my face, had sunk to various levels throughout my body, leaving lots of chalices and crevices for extra Facebook Scowling ).

Did you know that last year I had hyaluronic acid injected into my knees due to fact that my feet turn in (making an already short person, shorter, Thanks G-Dawg)  which in return wore out the cartilage in my knee caps?  Did you also know that it’s this same hyaluronic acid that Dr Oz SWEARS reverses the aging process by 5678 years, 2 children and too many helpings of Mee Maws Cheesy mac?  Did you also  know that my Ulta Coupons and rewards was burning a hole in my email because there was only 7 days left till Christmas???

Inevitably, this adventure led me to a search for the perfect skin care regimen that would rewind time, set back the clock, and revitalize the youth cells in my scowling Facebook face. SIGN ME UP.  1.54 hours, 2 Jim Gaffigan You tube clips, 23 squinting, scowling coupon entry attempts, later, I am the proud owner of face cream that will make my husband think he traveled through the Lake House time travel movie when he comes home from his business trip!

 

Weather in Georgia. For the day.

“where are my flip flops??”

“hats. we all need big fluffy hats today”

“will someone PLEASE open the windows?”

“my feet are FREEZING, honey will you fetch me some socks from the singles, sock pile. I’m too cold to get up or try to match socks.”

“I’m sweating from my eyelashes again!!”

“everyone!! quick by the fire ..it’s like that scene from “The Day After Tommorrow” (you know, the movie with Jake Gyllenhaal, before he turned into a kind of scary but still kinda cute & sweet, actor) where they all have to burn books and snuggle to stay warm.”

“Why am I sneezing?? Is something blooming ??”

“What?? It’s going to be 84 on Christmas? Have you seen my toes and legs? Honey ! get the chainsaw and sanding machine out of the garage please.”

“Where are my LL Bean layers?? the windchill could possibly make my skin flaky.”

“Ok, pack summer and winter clothes for holiday travels because Mee Maw and Pee Paw keep the heat on 99, so changing outfits are not a problem”.

“Let me hold the baby, they are warm, wait a second…where are you going, are those tickets to Cabo?”

“Where is the umbrella? Yes I know I just asked for my sunglasses. ”

“I am really wrestling over the decision on whether to wear Uggs or Flip flops on Black Friday. I’ll draft s survey for my friends Facebook for assistance in outfit decision making ”

“Snow in the forecast. Now is NOT the time to go gluten-free. WE MUST HUNT DOWN ALL THE BREAD (WITH EXTRA GLUTEN)  IN THE METRO ATLANTA AREA”

“Wait. What is the logical purpose of an open-toed-shboot (shoe-boot-sandal) with heels?? , oh yes,  these were designed specifically for Atlantonians”

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)

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

And No, I am not drinking.

 

 

 

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

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).     I was shocked by the parents’ vehemence towards each other on the topic.  Yes, if my child contracted a deadly disease, as a result of being around UN-vaccinated children, and I vaccinated my children, I would be hysterically angry and want to blame the parents who chose to not vaccinate their kids under the ‘herd-mentality’ premise.

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. 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.

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.  I worked part time on three separate occasions after I had kids, and WE could not make it work as a family.  Why the competing forces on this topic?

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.  Let’s try to remove the following preconceived notions and judgement out of our parental interactions:

1)  The number and type of  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.

3) STAYING HOME TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR CHILDREN.

4) WORKING TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR CHILDREN.

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 and I have the utmost respect for the single parent.

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. 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.     I applaud the women who breastfed and breastfeed.    “BREASTFORMATION” (projectile vomiting of information on the benefits of breast milk) is not going tot make  a woman who did not breast feed, change her mind on the subject, it’s only going to make the woman feel horrendous about her decision she can not or should not change based on your opinion.  Information on the benefits of of Breastfeeding is great for 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.

 

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,  organized pinterest 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

1) My kids are out of school.

2) I absolutely give myself an F in multitasking.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

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

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

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

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

 

++++++  Usual Disclaimer: DO NOT TAKE ME SERIOUSLY.  This stuff sounds extremely funny in my head, I have deemed myself a “comedic writer”, but I am too chicken to even attempt stand up. Anyhoo, another writer friend told me that comedic writing does not work well unless it’s narrated verbally, and people just think the writer is “angry”.   That’s so not the case, this is my free therapy and my goal is to make myself laugh at myself and for you to just LAUGH!
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1) My kids slept in outfits below and ate cookies for breakfast.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2) “I hate my life”.

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

3) The gym “selfies.”

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

4) The Political diatribes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WHICH brings me to..

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

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

And then there is that comment:

“I will be praying for you,-!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Happy Nurses Week :)

 

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

On with it:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WAIT, I almost forgot. Bonus) Forgetfulness.

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

PS.This is ALL in good fun.

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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

 

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

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

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

 

Sincerely, A woman WHO NEVER EVER EVER GOT THE MANUALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

 

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

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

On with it:

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jason Derulo’s “Talk Dirty to me”

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

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

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

Beyonce’s  “Partitions”

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

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

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

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

etc etc etc

 

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

 

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

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

 

More jibber jabber on this topic ..later.

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

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

2) Everytime I try to log into Word Press from my phone, I get a jacked up error message telling me there is a two step verification process to log in. I have zero clue what this means EXCEPT, periodically, randomly throughout the day and night, I get WordPress codes texted to me. If I’m being hacked, and someone is plagiarizing my genius writing, I will find you.

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

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

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

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

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

8) The Geek Squad almost salivate when you bring in Blue Screen of Death problems.. 8) Technology has a short shelf life. My neon phone would still be kicking it,  if I hadn’t ruined the cord by playing “Cord Mummy” when I should have been doing my computer science homework.

9) Why didn’t I LISTEN and study in computer class!!! My son fried two laptops with minecraft and I fried our dinosaur modem by clicking the “MAKE YOUR COMPUTER FASTER” POP UP PEOPLE.

10) I have two books on WordPress FOR dummies.
I am on page 12, of each. Its my ambien.

My husband is convinced I have the poltergeist technological malfeasance within my tippy tappy fingers on the keyboard. I’m convinced everything technological should comply with my clicking of pop ups and middle-fingered “eff you swirly button not responding message” sentiments.

What’s your kryptonite?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hope you get to the beach or lake soon my friends

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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Disclaimer:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

 

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serenity

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

Till I Collapse bitches.

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

EMINEM

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

*Eminem

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

2013-12-03 13.00.09

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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!!!!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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THIS IS MY JAM

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

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

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

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

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

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