Archive for the ‘mommy’ Category

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.

 

 

When the topic of “child-rearing” comes to the forefront, I get hot and prickly.  Instead of turning the air conditioning to 50 or moving myself into the grocery store cooler, I decided to write about it because writing is my therapy, it’s my release, it’s how I control my Rolodex brain.

The inspiration for this blog?  I recently read an article about how the Whooping Cough was an epidemic in California and  in the blog it stated it was a direct result of people choosing to not vaccinate their children. (see link below).     What was so incredibly disturbing about this blog, was the parents’ vehemence towards each other on the topic. Especially the pro-vaccination side, and I’m pro-vaccination. I was appalled at how nasty the comments were towards the people who do not vaccinate.   Yes, it distresses me that diseases are coming back and some say that  scientific evidence has proven that it to be a direct result of people not vaccinating their children.  All I can say that is if my child contracts a deadly disease, as a result of being around un-vaccinated children, and I vaccinated my children, I would be incredibly upset and want to point my fingers in a thousand directions.

However, lately, I decided, when I get inwardly steamed about a controversial subject, I am trying to do the opposite of overreacting and commenting wildly on Facebook. (you know you have done it..:) . I am trying to bring my inner Dali Lama to the forefront and find a medium in which we can agree to disagree and really try to support each other as we raise our children in this world.

An additional caveat inspiration,  the petition to comb Jay-Z and Beyoncé’s daughter’s hair was the most ridiculous criticism of another person’s parenting I have seen in a while, maybe in my life.   I don’t care who they are, they are human and the paparazzi is ruthless. Leave that child alone.

As a society, I feel like parents;  women especially, could do a much better job in supporting each other when it comes to how parents chose to provide for and raise their children. There are 500 different scenarios, and I do not think I have to list them all out because any parent that’s pouring love out of their heart to raise their children is a parent I support.   Why does it have to be a competition? Why are SAHP (stay at home parents) cast as a certain stereotype and working parents cast as another?  There are perks and insurmountable obstacles of all types of scenarios in raising kids.  It  is difficult enough to raise kids, without some blogger, polemicist or negative Nancy poking holes in your juju.  (no disrespect to Nancy, it just went with word negative) I have worked since I was 11.  I worked upwards of 18 hours a day before I had kids. I worked part time on three separate occasions after I had kids, and I simply could not make it work with my husband’s schedule. Why is the SAHP cast as the unproductive bon bon eating stereotype? Why is the working parent cast as a stereotype that doesn’t nurture their children as much as the SAHP?

I parent the way that I do because it feels right in MY gut, and below is a list of what I think we as parents can do to support each other in parenting:.

For the record, I have probably criticized every one of these items in my head or out loud. Through some personal growth, I am realizing that when I criticize another person in general,  my own inner insecurities are rearing their monstrous head. My criticisms of anyone or anything, has everything to do with my issues and little or nothing to do with their issues.   My point, stop throwing stones in the glass house and start using some Windex together.

 

1)  How many extra curricular activities (I.e. sports) their children are involved in and  Thankfully , because of some of the work I have done on myself, I’m less likely to parent my children based on “comments” made by other parents.

2) How a parent disciplines their children.  Aside from physical, emotional abuse and neglect, how you (or as a family unit) chose to discipline your children is YOUR BUSINESS.  You are in the shoes 24/7, not the onlooker.

For example, helping a parent who lost sight of her child for fifteen seconds (rather than scolding them with looks of disdain or remarks of disapproval)  may be a better approach in a situation where you truly feel like a parent can  benefit from your help or advice.   This actually JUST happened to me today.   A small child ran away from his Mom and I happened to be there to catch him before he went into the street.  The Mom was sprinting, breathless, panicked, distraught and terrified.  I simply said  “is this little guy yours?” smiled warmly and joined their hands.  If it hasn’t happened to you, then you are  lucky. Toddlers are fast and we are human. My point is, most parents know when they effed up, so giving them “tips” or making “comments”  usually isn’t helpful. At all.

3) STAYING HOME TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR CHILDREN. Enough Said.

4) WORKING TO TAKE CARE OF YOUR CHILDREN. Enough Said.  Both scenarios have their pros and cons. Stop trying to win the argument because there should not even be an argument anymore. It takes a Village.

5) BEING A SINGLE PARENT. Enough Said.  I know my Dad struggled with this feat for many many years.

6)Being A Gay Parent.  How is “gayness” affecting the child? or your child? If you associate being “gay” with being perverse,  that’s your problem.

7) Home Schooling your Children. Sending your Children to Private School. Sending your children to Public School.   I personally could not home school my children because I substituted as a preschool teacher and I learned very quickly that it’s simply not in my DNA and I would be performing an injustice to their education.

8) What type of religion , if any, is taught in the home.   I do my best to teach my children what I know, I bought them “cartoon-esque”  bibles so they have a basic understanding of Christianity, but essentially it is their decision to believe in what they want to believe in for themselves. I  believe in a Higher Power of my understanding, I want them to come to understand what that means to them on their own terms.

9) How many chores your kids do around the house or if they earn an allowance.   Again,  you are not in the parents’ shoes 24/7, you are the onlooker.   What works for some , may not work for others.

10) I’m backtracking a bit, but breastfeeding. I did not breastfeed, I tried and had to stop. No, I am not going to buy another mom’s milk over the internet or even next door.  Yes I do know how fabulous it is/was for the baby.   I applaud the women who breastfed and breastfeed.  The people who are not breastfeeding or did not breastfeed DO NOT WANT TO HEAR YOUR OPINIONS and “BREASTMATION” (projectile vomiting of information on breast milk). Save it for your Breastfeeding groups and people who want to hear the information.  I speak from experience and most moms I know who also did not breastfeed, DID NOT COME UPON THE DECISION LIGHTLY.  Many tears were shed over my decision to formula feed my children.

 

OKAY ONE MORE 11)

JUST BEING THEMSELVES. I am around a lot of moms. The most common thing I hear is that they are so tired of being judged and tired of feeling like they are losing themselves in what other people THINK they should be doing. Why are we so damn hard on each other, aren’t we hard enough on ourselves???  Whether you are a strict parent, a funny parent, a fly by the seat of your pants- parent,  cook three meals a day for your kid parent,  kids were potty trained at 18 months or 5  years, parent (which, by the way, has NOTHING to do with you..so stop stressing if you are potty training right now, the child I spent less time agonizing over, was the child who trained quickly and had less issues)  organized pintrest guru parent, handy parent, dramatic parent, etc!!! , I think the worst thing we can do to each other as parents is criticize each other!

 

Have you hugged another parent today?

 

* Article on Whooping Cough

http://gizmodo.com/whooping-cough-is-now-a-full-blown-epidemic-in-californ-1590895772?utm_campaign=socialflow_gizmodo_facebook&utm_source=gizmodo_facebook&utm_medium=socialflow

In a world that screams “be better, faster, stronger, thinner, happier, healthier, smarter, bouncier, boingier, etc”, we become our own worst critic. I believe in change, but not when it threatens the acceptance of who we are at  our core of beautiful personalities, which makes us special, unique, quirky and dynamic.

The most tumultuous battles I fight are with myself are because I’m not measuring up with what “I think” people need me to be doing, saying or being at this very moment.  “PEOPLE PLEASING” is a disease and it can literally kill your soul, your creativity, drive addicts to use again, incite aggression and make people mentally breakdown. I know from experience that when I am not being true to myself and my beliefs and I’m “buying in” to what other people are “selling” (metaphorically and literally) and I am not listening to my gut instincts, I end up in situations of regret and resentment.

Yes, we absolutely need to be considerate, kind and strive to help out our fellows. It is the times when we extend ourselves to others in full self abandonment, we end up on an empty gas tank forgetting to “fill~up” the most important person in the relationship equation, ourselves.  Self ~ Love does not mean becoming a doormat for others and saying “yes” to every request and demand. People who truly love us want us to say “No” or let our voices be heard.  People who thrive on YOUR “people pleasing”, are not loving you, they are using and manipulating you to gain something for themselves.

So why is Funny Lady Scrappie-Momma being so serious? I have been doing a lot of soul~searching, trying to find the real cause of my anxiety. I , like many, suffer from anxiety, depression and “projectile~future~vomiting”. Trust me , its LIGHT YEARS better than it was in my twenties and even thirties.  The truth is, the more peace I feel daily,  the more PEACE I need to feel daily,  and to shut the mental wars in my mind that occur in my brain.  I can create a tornado of distress in the middle of a sunshine filled day if I do not keep the “projectile~future~vomit” “inner voices in check.

I grew up with a lot of chaos. I finally provided a glimpse of my horrendous foster care  and schizophrenic Mom stories with my son and his response was “Wow, Mom you are the most interesting person I know!”..Wow, what a revelation,  rather than feeling shame or trepidation from my roller coaster childhood, I have amazing knowledge, strength and passion I can share my story in hopes to help others overcome barriers to full inner peace. (book!)  For me, when I feel peace, my brain is wired to say “OH SNAP, THIS SHIT ABOUT TO GET REAL, WAIT FOR IT SOMETHING INSANE ABOUT TO POP OFF BRO” (because my inner voice is most definitely a hip hop artist) . The reason my brain is wired like this is because for thirty years, it’s exactly how it happened for me!

In my childhood and through adulthood something “popped off” every one, two, to three years without fail. In a mirage of inconsistency, the one driving constant for me was turbulence.  Foster care, death, suicide,  divorce, alcoholism, anorexia,  etc. etc, either circumstantial or of my own , and at the time I thought, innocuous creations.  After 18, I definitely would subconsciously create sabotage, drama and mayhem because I thrived on burning the candle with a million ends. I use the terms innocuous and subconscious because I had developed my very own PHD from the”auto-pilot-drama” academy, where I was the student, teacher and graduate, completely oblivious to the sabotage I created for myself and to those around me.

In closing, this blog post started out as a Facebook post on my blog page I lose people after 140 characters and it took on a venue of its own.  The only goal I have for myself is to do things that bring me PEACE. I SIMPLY cannot be the Mom trying to outpace other Mom’s in whatever societal race we have created to raise Super Children. I cannot buy into the sensationalistic articles ( if you read them all, which I did for two years as a “health~coach”)  ,after all deductions and conclusions of said reading, I surmise facetiously, Organic Kale is the only food that won’t kill us. As Jim Gaffigan so eloquently stated in his recent stand up Obsessed, “Kale tastes like bitter spinach and hair”, and  after MANY attempts to try and like Kale, I have to agree. I just don’t like kale.

 

 

 

image

 

image

I spent a life time doing this, but not anymore.

If I’ve learned ONE thing, make changes to love and accept yourself but do not bend with the societal wind that tells you that you need a product, a thing, a drink, a drug or whatever, to be better.

I’m a slow learner, I’m stubborn, I may make the same mistake a hundred times before I learn the message; YET, this lesson right here, may be the most important one I have learned. Changing your perception of oneself is an inside job and it may be the most important one you ever have in your life!

If you change to be accepted by or be like others ~ it’s like flat ironing your hair, in the shower, while using curl enhancer all at the same time! I plead the fifth as to whether I have attempted the  aforementioned shower~flat~ironing insanity.

My kids are pictured because I learn so much from their acceptance of themselves and their unabashedly contentious nature to grab life by the horns and not let GO; no matter who tells them what they can and cannot do,including their MOM!!  aka scrappiemomma!

I aim protect them, I make A LOT OF MISTAKES, I’m impatient, I’m scrappie, I’m messy, sometimes I lack the polished filter that most suburban moms seem to carry around like a pink hammer of grace and poise. I feel like I eff up any type of school event or extra curricular activity as in “Um ? wtf am I supposed to be doing because the hospital manual stopped at three months and I’m flying blind?”( case in point ~ forgetting to dress my daughter in her dance costume, for DRESS REHEARSAL because I apparently I didn’t comprehend even the title of the email “DRESS REHEARSAL”. These types of clueless mom shenanigans happen more frequently than expected, and I don’t even drink….)

I’m drifting off tangent a bit. My point, I try to shield them too much from the aching hurts of the world all while knowing that I have to let them spread their wings to ready themselves for a world that in one breath is as miraculous as it is cruel. I guess what I truly wish, through my unwavering love and guidance, is I never, ever, ever break their tenacious spirit or their acceptance of themselves at their inner core, because, that my friends, is the key to true, inner peace.

My 2 cents today.

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.

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.

 

 

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.

image

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.

wpid-20140324_131500.jpg

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.

href=”https://scrappiemommareturns.files.wordpress.com/2014/04/wpid-wp-1396973103441.jpg”>image

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1) Bring drinks. Smuggle them in like Heisinburg if you have too.
2) DON’T GO JUNE THROUGH SEPTEMBER. Unless you like being soaked in humidity and scorched by a blinding, hot white heat thats so intense you will wonder if Orlando = Purgatory
3) Don’t eat a stack of protein bars prior to going in attempts to mitigate prolonged hunger because I can’t function hungry. Or “Hangry” as the hipsters coined.
3a) I ate too many protein bars and my stomach was so distended I almost bought a pregnancy test.
4) Don’t cry when your children are crying because of long lines, Purgatory humidity and alien baby stomach. It makes you look weak and it will piss off your spouse. Or family, if you thought it would be fun to go as a giant group.( Im not going to comment on “giant groups at Disney” . Ill let you think that through as to whether this invokes fun or “lets go here no lets go here no lets go here no I’m hot no I want to see Cinderella no lets eat lets pee lets cry lets sleep”)
5) Don’t put on self tanner before the big trip. No matter what you do, it will literally streak off in the hellish humidity
6) Don’t look cute. As in, dont flat iron your hair, wear heels or think “oh I just have to wear this ‘adorbs’ ensemble from the Premier Outlets. It will all be ruined within the first hour, and as dumb as I am when it comes to comfortable foot wear, I know enough to wear sneakers to an amusement park. (I did wear pointy heels to walk around NYC, so if you were insulted by #6, less I remind you, I make dumbass shoe decisions all the time)
7) Don’t show intense anxiety for death~defying, no wait death~invoking roller coasters
image

Due to my intense fear and “hell no MY kids are NEVER GOING TO BE TALL OR BIG ENOUGH for that shit” (pictured above..), they are now terrified of all rides. Even the little ones. Yes, my husband blames my ‘outward rolller coaster hatred’ for the kids’ intense anxiety at the tea cup Antarctica ride at Sea world. There was a 10 month year old on the ride, and my 9 year old wanted me to hold him in the ride. My husband could not stop shooting intense looks of disdain my way, wondering too, “Did my wife really NOT get the manual when the kids were born?” No. And I rarely babysat either.
8)Don’t argue. Arguing in the humidity is like trying to blow dry your hair in the rain.
9) Plan out bathroom trips or DON’T drink any water and completely dehydrate your family. Being dehydrated seemed easier than schleping through 780085 mini theme parks (within the one giant park) to pee or know an accident is on its way…which..brings me to #
10) Pack a change of clothes for every age. Even yourself. Even if its a bathing suit. You will be either soaked in humidity, someone will pee on themselves, throw up or something tragic will happen to the CUTE OUTFIT I TOLD YOU NOT TO WEAR
11) Be ready to people watch. I counted 150 daisy duke wearing ladies and lets just say my two piece has More coverage. I ain’t mad at cha, if you got it flaunt it and I think it appeased my husband’s irritation at my incessant belligerence towards my protein~alien~baby~ Sigourney Weaver ~stomach problems.
12) Dont think the kids will want to go out for thai food and sushi after 15 hours at an amusement park. SCRATCH that. Dont think anyone will want sushi and thai food, except for this alien babied stomach protein bar eating fool.

Okay, again, I can’t proofread this for a few days because word press HATES my phone and vice versa. So don’t hate the playah, hate the game.

image

My morning started with this text to my husband. I’m sorry if its #tmi as the hipster kids say, but I write what I know. Seriously? I haven’t even had my breakfast and my sister stayed over so the coffee is so strong I was so jittery I could barely snake the toilet, or ter~lit as they say on Swamp Things.  I text-ed him a picture of all the garden tools while we were talking on the phone because I assuredly explained to him the snake tool is NOT IN THE BASEMENT.  Upon further investigation and many sighs on the other end, yes the conversation ended with “Oh, Okay sorry to bother you , yes I see it now”

Next, I head out to the bus stop and lo and behold, I always gather new information about what I have missed as a Non Super Mom. Mind you, the other two moms have three and four children each, I have two so I am always perplexed when I am the one consistently not getting the memos! Okay, maybe the memos do not get perused as carefully as they should on a daily basis. Apparently there was a giant Art and Chorus night for my son’s school at the Academy and the new Community Center (which I did not even know existed till this morning). I promptly emailed his teacher as follows:

  • I missed  _(son’s name)____ art night I got confused bc my daughter’s is tomorrow night and disregarded email bc I thought it was reminder for hers, oops. Is it all week? Can you forward me the email again. So Sorry, :) 

Her Response:

  • Hey Laurie, no it was just last night. All of the art work was displayed and they had a chorus concert. I am sure he will be able to bring home his artwork at some point. Sorry you missed it!

My response:

  • Ok sorry he missed chorus thing.

Needless to say, I was LOVE to be a fly on the wall during lunch in the Teachers lounge as they discuss the email of the week from Ms Laurie Jane.  Considering I called the pediatrician, daily, sometimes thrice daily, when my first born was well, first born, they really should not be surprised I am this insane.  Maybe pediatricians and teachers should all swap and forward on notes about the parents so everyone is on the same page and the expectations are set appropriately as to what to expect from parents. Notice I said parents, because I am most fiarly certain that the teachers worst headache is never an unruly child, it’s the parents like me who , as I have mentioned before, never got the manual from the hospital when the storks delivered the children.

In closing, I found the snake thing, I will try to insert said pictures into this but the phone I own takes these enormous pictures and I can not for the life of me figure out how to edit the pictures properly on Word Press. YES! I know there are many books on how to use Word Press and I have tried reading them all and I usually end up in a nap coma for four hours because 1) I do not understand the books and 2) the make me sleepy.  Tomorrow night is my daughter’s Arts Night. I have 4 pieces of paper and 6 stickies cemented  on various mirrors and appliances , reminding me I have two children and it really should not be this difficult.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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.”
image
Pictured. Scale in boat next to anchor.

 

image

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