Archive for the ‘healthy industry’ Category

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

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Shortest Blog ever by Scrappie Momma:

I stopped counting the calories,
I put the scale in the garage,
I refuse to be addicted
To this perfectionist mirage

Everyday can be struggle
Of “omg is this organic??”
Bc every health article I read
Seems to send me into a panic

Health will ALWAYS be a part of me
BC my 9th grade health teacher was Hawt
Ok that’s not entirely true
But I think I just laughed a lot

I’m trying to live in moderation
Break the chains of control that confine me
So if you see me reading a label in deliberation
Tell me its ok, life is a gift, let it go & be free

I rarely blast out rhymes
This literally just popped into my head
I blog most of the time
Possibly, I just lost my Rap Street cred*

My head is a Rolodex in the wind
Where I control the uncontrollable around me
Somewhere I learned enjoying food was a sin
But thankfully I’m slowly learning¬† to just BE

I have no clue how to end a poem
The words don’t flow as easily
Just a quick glimpse I have shown
& help my day go more readily

 

* Kind of an inside joke, a lot of aspiring rap artists follow me on twitter. I mean not a lot, but enough where I’m wondering if Scrappie Momma is being mistaken¬† for Lil Momma or Drop Dem Rhymes Momma?¬† Who knows, I just hope there is no misconception that I have 1) any street cred because I grew up on farms,¬† a fishing village and in Shaker Heights Ohio, and 2) that I can rap, because I do try and it’s horrendous.

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.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2013-08-11 13.08.52

serenity

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

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

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

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

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

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

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