I know I have been MIA for a while but I was on vacation so I took a vacation from everything…if you know what I mean. I went down to Florida to visit my parents for a couple of weeks. It was a great time and we packed in a lot of fun stuff for the kids to do but still not enough time for me to do what I wanted. I didn’t get to see half of my friends while I was there which stinks but I know I’ll be back again next summer at least so I hope to try and make up for it then.
It’s amazing how fast two weeks goes. But I had some nice quality time with the P’s and so did the boys. More importantly, I got to spend some much needed time ALONE! I guess that’s why I wasn’t too upset not seeing a bunch of my friends. As much as I would have liked to, I wanted to just veg out and do my own thing. Alone time is non-existent in my world so when I have someone to watch my kids, I take full advantage of it. I did a lot of shopping…without having to rush home. One day I think I was out for eight hours! My feet were killing me at the end but it was so worth it. I was able to look at everything I wanted to without having a kid take off and hide in the clothes racks making me a nervous wreck while I tried to find him. I also got to try stuff on in the dressing room without having my three year old crawling under the door. Oh and the best part, I didn’t have to rush off to take one of my kids to the bathroom right after I gathered a whole bunch of stuff in my arms that I wanted to try on. Seriously. It never fails. Every time I go shopping with my kids, I ALWAYS have to stop what I’m doing because inevitably, one of them has to poop! So friggin frustrating. I swear there is something to be said for diapers!
I also got to enjoy a day at the spa. It would have been better if my mom could have been there to enjoy it with me (she was selfless yet again and not only watched my boys but gave me her spa gift card too-LOVE you Mom!). Oh and she let me drive her car when I was there. Her brand new smokin’ hot convertible! I cannot tell you how excited I was to drive that thing! I drive a mini van in my real life so do I really need to explain why I was thrilled to be driving my mom’s car?
However, as they say, “all good things must come to an end.” I am now back home to reality. Although I must confess…it’s good to be home. Plus, I missed my hubby. He stayed behind to work and take care of the dog and the “fort.” Oh and I must say that he did an outstanding job keeping the house clean (which is HUGE for him!). He even did his own laundry (had to call me to ask how to work the washing machine but still…A for effort!)!
I’m sure us being away was a nice break for him too. He got to do whatever he wanted for two weeks; go out with friends, sleep in late, not shave (hopefully shower though!) and watch hours and hours of movies for “guys who like movies”. Kinda like he was a bachelor again. How bad could that be??? It was nice though because he admitted how much he appreciates everything I do when I’m here…especially the cooking. That was good to hear :) He even had a dozen roses waiting for me when I walked in the door from the airport. Awww….how sweet is that? I am one lucky girl!
So yes, it was a great vacation but we are all glad to be home. Back to the daily grind now. The boys start school and soccer next week so I’m getting organized and ready for that. It was a fun summer but I am sooo ready for school to start. My little guy is starting preschool this year so I will have three days a week and three whole hours to myself! Oh what to do, what to do (she says with a hint of sarcasm and devilish grin)? Actually, I know exactly what I will be doing. Working on ME. I am starting my 90 day fitness challenge next week and I am so ready (stay tuned for progress blogs on that)! I am stoked to have alone time because I so need it. What mom doesn’t? I think those three hours, three days a week will be good for all of us as I’m sure I will have a whole new attitude and hopefully, I’ll be less irritable! It’s amazing how time to myself can lift my spirits and overall mood SO much.
Here’s hoping that all you mom’s out there have a smooth and stress-free (relatively anyway) school year. Be sure to enjoy the time to yourself. I know I will!
It’s no secret that lately I have been a little depressed about getting older. I went shopping again this weekend and after trying on a bunch of clothes I decided that well…nothing has changed and I am STILL depressed.
So, I have decided to take action. Soon I will transform my body into the lean machine that has lived inside of it for the past 30 some odd years. The body that has been yearning to be set free from the “full hips” or “loose” jeans and into a pair of “skinny” ones. However, you will have to stay tuned and wait for me to return from my vacation. Give me a good week or two before I start my 90 day fitness challenge. I plan to blog it to let you know what I am doing and my progress and results of course.
In the meantime, I will no longer be as hard on myself as I have been the last couple of months. Why? Because I have realized that my situation could be A LOT worse. Take for example this guy. All I can say is
Oh. My. God.
Yes. When you can fit a firearm in between two layers of FAT that is on YOU…um…I’m thinkin’ you’ve got way more serious problems than being in jail. In fact, I would think being behind bars would actually be a blessing in disguise for this man. He’s on a restricted diet whether he wants to be or not right? He’s bound to lose weight eventually.
On the flip side, maybe he was hiding the gun in his rolls of fat so he could threaten the prison guards…you know, to bring him more food.
Things that make you go hmmm…
It IS really sad though. It breaks my heart to see when people get this large. He’s only 25 years old! All kidding aside, I sincerely hope he gets his weight under control because as I said before, prison will be the least of his problems.
This photo is pretty much self-explanatory. We took a trip to the NC mountains this past weekend and drove past this crane somewhere between Boone and Blowing Rock. Notice the tag line: “The we get it up people.” Sooo….if you are in the market for an “ERECTION”…these “specialists” are your guys! Pretty um…cough…HARD to forget their name huh?
If you have read my About page, you have seen that I’ve dubbed my boys Alex (as in Alex P. Keaton from the classic 80’s show Family Ties) and Dennis (as in the Menace-because well, God love him but he IS a menace).
Well, I have to say that my pseudonyms couldn’t be more appropriate.
This past weekend I took Alex back to school shopping. Just the two of us. No crazy 3 year old Dennis scaring me half to death because he is hiding in the clothes racks and not answering when I call him. Or me being forced to play his little game of “chase me” where he takes off ahead of me so fast I have to run to catch up to him. Oh no. No thank you. I left his little butt home with daddy because shopping with Dennis is sure to reward me with nothing more than a suite at the Rubber Ramada.
Alex on the other hand, is a pleasure to shop with. He actually loves to shop. Maybe because when he was a baby, in between his baby music and gym classes, I was constantly dragging him all over town from store to store while I shopped for various things (mostly for him). He didn’t have a choice though but fortunately, he was usually pretty good.
He is six and a half now and about to go into first grade. Wow. Where does the time go? When I told him we were going school shopping he was all about it and could not wait to go.
So we get to the mall and we go to the boys section of a department store. The first thing Alex sees is a long-sleeved, plaid, button down shirt. He wanted it baaad. However, it cost more money than I was willing to pay (why are kids clothes so expensive?) so I told him we would keep looking since I was sure I could find something similar and cheaper somewhere else. He was NOT happy with me.
Until he saw it…A RED. SATIN. TIE.
If you could have seen the look on his face when he spotted that tie. I could tell he was picturing himself wearing it before he tried to put it on. It was a zipper tie for kids. Very easy. He was so excited to find such a precious accessory for his first grade wardrobe and begged me to buy it for him. It was 97 cents. Seriously. It must have been a clearance item from Christmas. Shoot for 97 cents, I figured “why not?”…so I bought it.
I told Alex that unless it was a special occasion, he would not be wearing the tie to school. He understood but I am not exaggerating you when I say this; if I would let him, that boy would wear a suit and tie to school EVERY day. He loves to wear ties. Hence, my pseudonym for him: Alex P. Keaton. He was the ONLY boy at his kindergarten graduation who dressed up and wore a tie (his choice of course). All of the other boys wore shorts and t-shirts.
So our first back to school purchase was a 97 cent tie and Alex was thrilled. I probably could have stopped at that and he would have been fine with it. Except, the next thing he wanted was a new white button down long-sleeved shirt. He remembered the one he wore to graduation was getting too small so he wanted a new, bigger one. I said “okay, if we find one I’ll buy it for you but right now we need to buy clothes that are practical for school.”
We continued through the mall and found a ton of great sales where I was able to pick up several items for school. Alex was happy with the selections but he was starting to stress that we hadn’t found the white shirt he wanted so desperately to wear with his new tie.
I’m not kidding. I knew if I didn’t find and buy him a new white long-sleeved shirt I would never hear the end of it. So we pressed on.
And there it was.
Alex spotted the shirt that he was on the quest for and it was in his size. Hallelujah! So naturally, I bought it. How could I not? The shopping extravaganza was now deemed a success…buy Alex’s standards anyway.
Finally, we decided that we did pretty well with our purchases and went home. What do you think is the FIRST thing Alex did when we got home?
He took his new loot and disappeared to his room for a good ten minutes. When he finally emerged, he was wearing the full ensemble he had pictured himself wearing while we were shopping: the long-sleeved white shirt, his new jeans, and that red satin tie. Classic Alex P. Keaton. I wish I had taken a picture of him.
He came down stairs, modeled his his new outfit, and sat on the couch to watch TV.
I asked him if he was going to change his clothes. After all he couldn’t possibly be comfortable. Nope. No, he was “fine.” He sat there dressed like that for at least 15 minutes until I made him go get changed. And the only way I was able to convince him to change was by telling him that he was going to “ruin his tie.” You really had to be there but it was hilarious!
So yes, the Alex P. Keaton pseudonym is more than fitting for my son. I have NO idea where he got his meterosexual tendencies because he sure as hell doesn’t get it from my husband whose entire wardrobe consists of t-shirts and shorts. I think it’s pretty cool though not to mention extremely adorable. Maybe I should look at getting him into modeling for children’s catalogs. Better yet, maybe he can design his own ties for kids. Ooh yeah that’s it! He’ll have his own kid tie line and make mommy and daddy lots of money. I think I might really be on to something here. Move over Armani!
Everyone knows that sleep is important. If I don’t get a good night sleep, I am a total grumpy witch. My husband is even worse. Thankfully, Alex has pretty good sleep habits. He could sleep through an explosion. Dennis on the other hand has a serious problem with sleep. You may have read about the Indigo Dreams Sleep CD we use to try to help him fall asleep. I think maybe I have finally realized his sleep issues started at birth.
We used to live in Florida by the beach. When I was ready to give birth to my first son Alex, the hospital my husband and I chose in which to deliver him had a nice birthing suite that had a view of the ocean. We thought that would be a wonderful, calming atmosphere for our child to be when he first entered this world. And it was.
When it was time for Dennis to bless us with his presence we tried to get the same birthing suite. However, it was being remodeled due to the damage it had sustained when we got blasted by three hurricanes in one year. So we had to settle for one of the suites on the other side of the hall. Dennis was a planned c-section so it was going to be a lot less stressful than the first time around. He was delivered in the afternoon and there were no complications afterward, so once he and I were checked out and got the “all clear” from my doctor, we were able to go back to our room. The whole experience was of course exhausting, so we all just wanted to get some rest that night.
My husband slept on a fold out bed which was like some torture device and since I had just been filleted like a fish had a c-section it was obviously going to be tough to sleep to begin with, but we all finally dozed off. Minutes after we began our slumber, the nurses started coming in to check on me, take my blood pressure, give me pain meds, etc. which naturally woke all three of us up. That was okay though since it had to be done. The nurse left and we all fell back to sleep shortly thereafter. Until…a screeching, blaring siren that sounded like a fire alarm woke us all up AGAIN while simultaneously scaring the crap out of us since we were all in a dead sleep. Then another nurse came into our room to assure us that everything was “fine.” Annoyed, we all managed to fall back to sleep anyway.
But not for long.
We are awakened yet AGAIN by the familiar “beep, beep, beep” sound of delivery trucks backing up. Evidently, hospitals get deliveries at all hours of the night (like 3 AM) and instead of enjoying the view of the ocean, we were graced with the noises (and view) of a loading dock. Wonderful.
Minutes after that, we were awakened by the siren again. The nurse came in again to let us know that everything was still “fine” but this time, we asked what the siren was for. It turns out it was the baby Lo-jack system (those ankle bracelets that keep strangers from walking off with babies in the hospital). The room at the end of the hall was right next to the exit door and if the people in that room had their baby too close to the door it sets the alarm off. Great design, huh?
So here is the cherry on the sundae.
By this time it was probably around 6 AM. We had not had more than an hour of consecutive sleep. There was a knock on the door. A woman walks in and asks if she woke us up. Let me think. It’s six o’clock in the morning, the room is dark and it’s quiet. What do you think Genius? Uh, yeah you did wake us up biotch!
“Hi. I’m so and so, the Head of Housekeeping. I just wanted to let you know that later today, we will have someone come in and clean your room and if there is anything you need you can call me. Here is my card.”
Huh? Are you freakin’ kidding me? I’m in a hospital and you WOKE ME UP at SIX’ O’CLOCK in the MORNING to tell me that someone is going to clean my room?!?! I just had a baby for Pete’s sake! I’m exhausted, in pain, I have been up ALL night listening to sirens and delivery trucks, I’ve been poked and prodded by nurses around the clock and my friggin boobs are sore and feel like they are going to explode. I could give two $%&*$ who you are and that someone is going to come in later today to clean my hospital room!!! Honestly. How asinine could this woman be to wake me up just to tell me she was having one of her staff members come to clean my room? If it was policy to let the current occupant of the room know they are going to clean it, then tape a note to my door since hello??? I JUST had a baby and I’m SLEEPING!!!
After that whole scene I was beyond irritated. I told my hubby that I didn’t care if he had to fold me in half at the seam, but to just get us the frig out of there so I could go home. If I couldn’t get a good night sleep at least I’d prefer to do it in my own bed. When my doctor came to check on me that day I explained everything that happened and how miserable and exhausted we were staying in the hospital. Ironic since the hospital stay is supposed to help you REST and RECOVER and provide round the clock help that you wouldn’t get at home. NOT my experience AT ALL.
Thankfully, my doctor was extremely sympathetic and understanding about our horrible experience and she agreed that we could be discharged that day if I felt up to it. I practically sprinted out of bed and packed up my baby and my belongings. I could not get out of that place fast enough!
I still have that lady’s business card to remind me how stupid that was - not that I will EVER forget it anyway.
Ya know, after thinking about that time again I am starting to believe that both of my boys’ current sleeping habits have a direct correlation to their birthing stories. Recounting this whole thing just made me realize… Alex is very calm and serene, just like the experience in his room was. Dennis is like a wild banshee, just like the experience in his room was. Maybe that explains it.
So, if by some chance (though slim or none) I ever decide to go ahead and have another baby, I think I will seriously consider a home birth…just in case!
This is an EXTREMELY rare photo which seemed unlikely to ever be captured on film. Is it Bigfoot? The Loch Ness Monster? Rosie O’ Donnell with her trap shut?
NO! It’s my husband actually putting his dish in the dishwasher… Halle freakin’ lujah!!!!!
So since it is ridiculously hot this summer, I had to go out this past weekend and update my summer wardrobe. Not because I have nothing to wear. No, I wish that was the case. I had to go shopping because nothing freakin fits me!
Apparently, this past winter I was storing fat like a bear.
I am so depressed.
I swear I have the Delta Burke collection in my closet. The sizes go from 4 to 10. Right now I am in the middle. I have gained only eight pounds since last summer but still…that is at least a size, if not two. Ugh!
The kicker is I have been working out all summer and doing the Weight Watcher’s point thing (my favorite diet that I’ve been on 700 times and always works). But it seems to be taking longer to lose these days. Why? Because I am getting…gulp…old! That dreaded excuse that I used to hear my elderly counterparts say is now becoming my own reality. I’m getting older so “my metabolism is slowing down.” How can that be? How did I get here already?
Sure, next summer will be 20 years since I graduated from high school but it still feels like yesterday. I am back in touch with old friends (thank you Facebook) and I still feel young. So how did I go from once counting the days until I turned 21 and could get into bars, to praying that time would stop right now so I don’t have to suffer yet another gray hair and be forced into “mom” jeans because my fat arse can’t squeeze into anything else?
Did I mention how depressed I am?
“You’re as young as you feel” they say. Who in the hell are they anyway? Well whomever they are are full of crap because the mirror doesn’t lie.
Yes, let us discuss the dressing room mirrors. If I wanted to see every lump and bump on my backside I would use a magnifying glass. Seriously! When I go shopping for myself, I wander around the store and take extra care to pick out the clothes that I think will actually look good on me. I know what my body can wear but more importantly, I know what it cannot.
Daisy Duke shorts…um definitely not.
Skinny jeans… on my pear shaped body? No way.
Bikinis…don’t even go there.
So after what seems like hours of carefully choosing what I want to try on, I finally get to the dressing room to model my selections. Nine times out of ten I will put it on, look at myself in that oh so depressing mirror, and want to cry. If I am lucky, I may end up with a t-shirt or two, but hardly ever, will I like any type of bottom.
Then I leave, completely and utterly disgusted with myself. I feel like all of my hard work exercising and dieting is for naught so I go home and bury my misery in a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. Ha! Just kidding. I would never do that. Please after seeing every imperfection in that dressing room mirror, that last thing I want to do is eat. What actually happens is that I get pissed!
I curse my body and my parents for giving me these genes and wish they were both former Olympians. Then, when I’m done blaming everyone else, I remember what I DO have and try to be grateful for that.
This is only weight and it WILL come off. Eventually. I know now that I just have to be more patient and may have to work harder to make it happen but hey, that will make the journey much more gratifying in the end right? Yeah I know that sounds like a bunch of BS but it helps me get through it so back off! LOL!
Women age gracefully huh? Good for you Jamie Lee Curtis. You go ahead and embrace your gray hair, wrinkles, and mom jeans. Oh and I am so glad that Activia yogurt keeps you “regular.” I am NOT aging well and I’m not ashamed to admit it. In fact, I hate every part of the aging process. But I WILL defy it for as long as I can.
Time to amp up the workouts and reel in the diet plan. I WILL get there again.
Until then, the next time I go shopping the only thing I will be buying is a purse or a pair of shoes. No need to set foot into a dressing room for those!
My kids have a real issue with food. Since they are still pretty young, the problem is not what I’m sure to face when they are teenagers (eating me out of house and home) it’s just the opposite. They DON’T eat.
While my six year old IS getting better and FINALLY starting to try different foods other than macaroni and cheese, hot dogs and chicken nuggets, my three year old is the absolute WORST. He will take a drink over food any day, any time of the week. I am so over trying to get him to eat.
Well, I have finally figured out that everything comes down to a battle of wills. Dennis is constantly testing me and trying my patience (of which I have very little left to begin with). He will ask for juice over and over and will not stop until I cave in and give it to him. Unfortunately, I usually do too because it’s just easier and I don’t want to hear it anymore.
Well those days are over. Today, I have decided to FINALLY stop letting him work me over to get what he wants no matter how hard it is -for me. He needs to know that I am the one in charge. Wow. I am SO ashamed of myself for letting him get away with this crap for this long already.
This is how the juice thing went down at lunch time today.
D: Mommy can I please have juice?
Me: No. You can have water. After you finish your sandwich then you can have juice.
D: I don’t want to eat, I just want juice!
Me: Too bad. You need to eat first and then you can have juice. If you are thirsty, then you can have water.
D: I don’t want water. I want juice!
This went on for at least 45 minutes. But, I NEVER gave in and gave him the juice. Yay me!
After realizing that he wasn’t going to get that juice he sooo wanted without eating first, he finally said he would eat.
Here’s where it gets good.
Dennis walked over to the table where his plate had been waiting for him for the last 45 minutes. He picked it up and walked away from the table and into the other room. The Boss and I were sitting in the family room which is right next to the kitchen so when Dennis walked away, we couldn’t see him anymore. I thought maybe he was mad (he has a tendency to sulk and pout when he doesn’t get his way) and decided to go eat in the playroom on the little table that is in there. But it was quiet. Very quiet.
The Boss and I looked at each other and we both knew that it was much too quiet and that Dennis HAD to be up to something.
The Scene Of The Crime
We have a love seat in that room and it has a throw pillow on it (see photo above). The Boss got up and walked into the playroom and snuck up behind Dennis. There, he found our son attempting to HIDE his plate of food. He was putting his plate behind the pillow to hide it when my husband walked in the room. Not aware that his daddy was standing there behind him, Dennis proceeded to brush away the crumbs on the couch and smooth down the pillow. He took a step back to check out and admire his “cover up” work and to make sure everything looked in order.
Then he turned around and saw Daddy standing there.
Knowing that he was full-on busted, he looked at his dad with a big smile and sweetly said “I ate it all.”
OMG! MY THREE YEAR OLD IS A LIAR!!!
Dennis lied right to my husband’s face! He’s THREE for crying out loud! I thought kids didn’t even know how to lie at this age. Why do I get to be the lucky one? My kid is a…gasp… liar. OMG!
The Evidence Unveiled
In case I lost you somewhere let me recap it all for you. My three year old son walked his lunch plate over to another room and hid it behind a pillow, made damn sure it wasn’t obvious what he had done, and lied to my husband’s face about eating it. All so he could have a sippy cup of JUICE! Are you freakin kidding me?
So here’s how we handled that one. As soon as we stopped laughing our asses off about it (we made sure to walk away from Dennis first), we very calmly but sternly explained that what he did was wrong and lying about it was worse. We did our best to explain WHY it was wrong but ya know what? I’m pretty sure Dennis didn’t even give a crap. I have no doubt that what we said went right through one ear and out the other anyway because after all of that, all he wanted was that damn juice! Still!
I am happy to say that we did not give in and he didn’t get SQUAT.
I will admit that it IS much much easier to just cave and give him what he wants so I don’t have to deal with the tantrums. But in the long run, am I doing myself any favors? Hell no! I created this little monster because I took the easy way out so now I have to suffer the consequences and figure out how to fix it. However, I absolutely will NOT take the blame for his premature lying!
I do have to give him credit for originality though. The whole hiding the food behind the couch pillow was pretty good since he could have taken the easy way out and just slipped it directly to the dog. I guess I’ll know who to blame when my little dog starts to look like Porky Pig since I have no doubt the next time Dennis does not want to eat, our dog will get first dibs!
Okay so this isn’t exactly “wordless” but I’m not saying anything so doesn’t that count?
You may have read one of my previous posts about my six year old son Alex having recently had his tonsils removed. One night after he had his pain medication, I noticed how dramatically his mood changed and that he was most definitely “feeling good”. I posted a status update about it on my Facebook page and a friend of mine replied with this video by asking if my son was THIS bad. My answer? Umm…not even close. Thank God! This video has been around a while so you may have already seen it but it’s still always good for a chuckle. Happy Wordless Wednesday all!
Hope everyone had a nice Forth of July weekend! We had a great time with the standard July fourth festivities but what I want to know is if any of you happened to catch the Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating competition on television? It is held every year on the forth of July at Coney Island Amusement Park in New York. If you have never seen one you have to check it out on You Tube.
But prepare yourself. Watching people shove hot dogs and buns down their throats one after the other is not a pretty sight.
OMG! How utterly disgusting! The winner, Joey Chestnut ate 68 hot dogs AND buns in 10 minutes! Think about that. He averaged almost 7 hot dogs and buns a minute.
I still cannot believe that there are people who actually choose to do this. The winner gets a “Mustard Belt” and $20,000. Are you kidding me? You could not pay me enough to do that. In fact, after watching that contest, I myself, have no interest in eating a hot dog any time soon.
Oh and competitive eating is considered a “sport” believe it or not. These people train for events such as these. Most of them come into the Nathan’s competition as the Eating Champion of the World of something. This one lady was a mere 105 pounds and is the Cheesecake eating Champion of the World. She ate 11 pounds of cheesecake in eight minutes. Ugh. Just the thought of that makes me want to hurl.
The Boss watches this every year and it’s kind of like watching a train wreck. You don’t want look, but…
Surprisingly, after devouring 68 hot dogs, there wasn’t what they call a “reversal”. I’ll let you figure out what that is.