Review on Yo Johnny Frozen Yogurt! in Watertown, NY

I really deserve to be on the naughty list this season.  I can't remember the last time I put on my running shoes and worked up a sweat.  My diet selections deserve to be on the naughtiest of all naughty lists.  Seriously though, why does it have to taste so good?  Why can't apples taste like chocolate chip cookies?

I swear December 26th, 2012 I am going for a run.  Get ready treadmill. 

Since I am already on a bad girl spree, I figured out it was a GREAT time to check out Yo Johnny Frozen Yogurt! in Watertown, NY.  It's a new frozen yogurt bar owned and operated by a radio personality.  After seeing many mouth watering pictures of frozen yumminess on Facebook, I decided it was time I let my taste buds be the judge.  A huge Coldstone Creamery fan, they had high expectations to meet.

I walked up in somewhat dismay to realize it was in the same location Teriyaki Experience used to be.  They must have closed.  Frown face....I really liked it there.  Okay, back to frozen yumminess.  My first impression was pleasant based on the decor and atmosphere.  It was fun with bright colors...hot pink, lime green, shiny silver.  A white Christmas tree with multicolored, vibrant ornaments is in the foyer between the exterior door and entrance to the restaurant.  Several smaller silver tables with modern, bright colored chairs are in the front of the joint for those who choose to stay to munch on their concoctions. 

A pleasant young lady must have sensed my unfamiliarity with the layout because she guided me to the back on the restaurant where the bowls are kept.  And then the line of frozen yogurt machines.  I expected chocolate and vanilla frozen yogurt.  Not the case.  Apple pie, Tahitian Vanilla, Oreos Cookie and Cream, Peanut Butter, oh my.  It went on and on.  A few flavors were out of order, but some kinks are to be expected during grand openings. 

Once you make the difficult decision of which flavor yogurt you desire, you move on to the toppings bar.  You name it, they have it.  Even bacon.  Yup, bacon on frozen yogurt.  No I did not try it.  I was buying for the entire family so I really focused on the fresh fruit toppings as my kids are fresh fruit vacuums.  Kiwi, raspberries, blueberries, cherries, cantalope, pineapple and even these little bead shaped toppings called Bursting Boba.  I have to try that next time.  Syrups are at the end!

Checkout consists of weighing your frozen yogurt masterpiece.  50 cents an ounce.  It's that simple! 

It was far better than expected.  I really expected like a strong yogurt taste but it was really creamy and soft ice cream like.  My husband seconds that opinion.  The toppings were fresh and plentiful (over 50 different toppings to choose from).  I love that you serve yourself.  Four bowls of frozen yogurt loaded with toppings all for $20.00.  I didn't think that was a bad price at all. 

The staff was very friendly and helpful.  It was very clean and tidy and organized once I realized what the flow of the line was.  The modern decor is hip and inviting but also very family friendly.  It will be great to sit in the bright Adirondack chairs that line the exterior of the building with my family this summer for a sweet treat. 

Gift cards are available (great Christmas gifts).  Free Wi-Fi.  Open 10am - 10pm Monday through Saturday and 10am - 7pm on Sundays. 

We all agreed it was delish.  I like the fact that they have options for when I am behaving diet and exercise wise to keep me off the naughty list!  You control the portions and there are plenty of healthy options so you can decide whether you are being naughty or nice!  We will be return customers without a doubt! 

**Picture was taken by my brother in law...I was too interested in consuming my frozen yogurt to remember to snap a pic of it first.  Priorities, ya know!!**

Believe!

Madison lost her first tooth this morning.  Like literally lost it.  Seriously, I can’t make this stuff up.  The first loose tooth is a big deal in the world of Parenthood.  It comes with all different emotions.  Excitement for the child for experiencing the Tooth Fairy.  Heartache as you realize it is just another sign of the passing years, of the child no longer being a baby.  Loose tooth today, driving and dating a pierced, tattooed peer tomorrow.  Sigh.

So you can imagine the panic I felt at realizing the first tooth had been lost.  I drive the girls to school every morning.  We have our routine.  Elementary school first, in line with all the rest of the parents dropping off their precious bundles of joy.  Waiting until the child makes it to the safety of the aid who opens the door for them.  The line was long today.  She hopped out, further back in the line then I liked and ran up the sidewalk coming to a screeching halt halfway up.  She turned and ran back to the car and I knew what she was returning for.  The Kissing Hands. 

I plant a kiss on the palm of both her hands, she plants a kiss on the palm of both my hands and then we kiss on the lips.  Every morning.  If you do not know the significance behind the kissing hands you need to look up the book and get it to read to your little ones.  Such a great story.  https://www.google.com/#q=The+Kissing+Hand+book&hl=en&tbo=u&source=univ&tbm=shop&sa=X&ei=eETLUPH9FY-29gSc6oBQ&sqi=2&ved=0CEsQsxg&bav=on.2,or.r_gc.r_pw.&fp=11d5ec86076e28e2&bpcl=39967673&biw=1152&bih=696

So after the kissing hand ritual, I noticed she was touching her mouth.  My first thought was she was wiping my kiss from her mouth as the stinker likes to do sometimes.  She turned and looked at me and matter of factly said, “I lost my tooth.”  Open door for flood of emotions once that sentence sunk in.  Excitement for her, heart wrenching for me, anxiety for the Tooth Fairy who will now have to keep her eyes open long enough to perform the duties.  Then she said the words, “I am not sure where it fell, it’s gone though.”  WHAT?!! 

As she took off, the horror set in knowing that her tooth was now in limbo.  My baby’s first lost tooth, I could not stand the thought of it just being lost on the school sidewalk, stepped on by many kids and teachers and mixed in with dirt and pebbles.  So I did what any mother would do.  I pulled into a parking spot and convinced my teenager to help me find the itty bitty tooth. 

Full line of parents dropping off children.  Several hundred feet of sidewalk.  Lots of dirt and pebbles.  My daughter and I on our hands and knees searching for the lost tooth.  Picture it.  Oh the situations we get into for our children. 

End of story is that the tooth was found.  A piece of my baby girl’s childhood in my hand.  To be placed under her pillow where she will lay her head tonight and the Tooth Fairy will fly in and exchange the tooth for some money and fly away leaving the magic of childhood and fantasy behind.  And I now have a memory to hang on to with a little smile and a lot of love.  The story of the first lost lost-tooth.

On a side note, I have a hard time with religion but there are many moments in life that I have to really wonder if a higher power is not at work.  It seems financially especially, when things are tight and I am wondering how everything will come together and then there is a sudden chain of events like a few bills that are unexpectedly less than what was budgeted or news of unexpected yet appreciated gifts of money at times it is needed most that really make me wonder if the word Believe doesn’t have more meaning than what we give it face value for.  For those who question the meaning of Christmas, maybe it is to renew spirit in believing in things we don’t see or understand.  Believing in miracles and that we are not meant to understand everything in life but that Faith means knowing with your heart Everything that happens is meant to be and that it will all work out in the end.  Take no moment, no matter how small for granted because no moment in life is meaningless.  Open your eyes and heart to all possibilities for those who are blind and closed will miss so much beauty and magic in life. 

I am truly grateful for my curious and open mind and heart that looks beyond the ordinary to see the extraordinary in everything and everyone.  Creativity and imagination should not end with childhood, it should always exist.  Thanks to a chain of events throughout the past year, just know that I am starting to BELIEVE with my heart and my mind.  I can not explain some things that have happened, other to know that there is a bigger power at work.  May it be angels, may it be Him, may it be Santa or the tooth fairy or just how life is meant to be work out, there is something bigger than us out there.  So this holiday season and beyond just celebrate what is in front of you and beyond you.  That is the meaning of Christmas.  Nothing and no one in life is truly lost.  It can be found in the craziest places if you open your eyes and look for it.  Whether it be a tooth or faith or meanings.  It’s there.  Just believe.  Merry Christmas to all and to all a GREAT night!

The Blogging Queen and her Huntsman

Today is December 11th, do you know what that means?  I mean aside from the fact Christmas is two weeks away?  It means hunting season is over with, hallelujah! 

Yes, sad but true I am a hunting season widow.  From the months of mid October to early December my husband generally assumes that I have no life and am able to take on being a single mom for a few months so he can tip toe around the woods in camo and face makeup. 

I would like to pause and take a second to assure all my readers that I in fact do have a life during this time period and that I do not understand the thrill of the hunt.  Therefore, I could care less if he decided to take up another hobby...like house cleaning.

I am sure the pursuit of a defenseless animal who causes no harm to mankind and is just trying to avoid humans and go about living a peaceful life in the woods is exciting.  Waking up before dawn even breaks to put on eleven layers of clothing to walk a mile back into the woods, climb up a tree and perch in absolute silence until an unassuming animal falls within your scope sounds like a GREAT time to me.  I totally would love to give up sleeping in, laying in my warm bed and checking my Facebook to see who put up embarrassing drunken statuses the night before in order to go out to hunt.  NOT!

I get grossed out looking at a local website's feature called Deer of the Day.  It features pictures of proud hunters who boast about their kill by posing with the dead animal as they grip the massive antlers to heave the dead head up to pose for the picture.  If that dead animal was a human, you would be considered insane.  So morbid.  I am sure that hunter has tapped into some sort of primal feeling of being alpha dog over another creature, but where does the joy of the kill end?  Okay to kill a fly, a snake, a crow, a pig, a deer but not okay to just slaughter a dog or another human?  Who makes up these rules? 

There is a bunch of hunting rites that I personally view as psychopathic tendencies.  Like eating the heart.  Oh yeah, that whole rite caused a HUGE fight in my home Thanksgiving morning.  He used my pot to boil it, it smelled nasty and I truly believe you have to have a screw loose to get giddy over boiling a heart to be pickled.  And all this comes after GUTTING the deer.  Slicing it open, draining the blood, removing vital organs, all elbow deep in blood....  Disgusting doesn't even begin to explain my thoughts on that. 

How do I explain to my daughter why one of Santa's reindeer's head is mounted on our wall?  By the way, at five she already has her lifetime hunting license. 

I admit I used to eat venison without a second thought.  There is some satisfaction and joy in knowing that our freezer is full of meat.  However when eating venison stir fry one night a few years ago I happened to have just one piece of deer hair in my food.  And I lost it.  I can't get past that moment in time where I could not look at the fork about to be placed in mouth and deny that it was Bambi.  I am definitely someone who can't overthink what it is that I am eating. 

And then he watches this channel dedicated to only hunting.  24 hours, 7 days a week of hunting tips, hunting expeditions.  A man crouched in a tree whispering into a microphone, "I'm in these here woods, 24 miles north of where I was yesterday.  I have heard rumors of a 10 point deer up in these here neck of the woods.  Shh...I hear something.  Here comes a deer.  I am raising my gun up to my shoulder.  I am looking through the scope.  I am going to pull the trigger when the deer is in my crosshairs.  Dang, it's only a doe.  Tune in tomorrow when I do the same exact thing."  The whole thing whispered. 

I try to be supportive.  I really do.  After Christmas I will be remodeling our bedroom with an outdoorsy/hunting lodge feel.  I said, "Yay" when he shot a deer Thanksgiving morning (before I realized he intended to boil a deer heart on my stovetop).  But it takes some energy to muster that support, probably the same energy he musters for my blogging, couponing and deal seeking hobby.  It causes some fights....it is not understood by the other...as long as it doesn't interrupt our lives we don't complain...but when it's not in full force, it is pleasing.

I just want to apologize in advance to everyone that Santa will probably be running a little behind this year seeing how my husband killed one of his antlered friends.  I seriously hope Santa takes the coal he is bringing for my hubby and shoves it into the chamber of his gun.  Maybe sets all his hunting gear on fire by splashing milk on it and rubbing cookies together to get a spark.  Or take all the deer back to the North Pole.  Other than that I am very supportive of my husband's hunting hobby....From the end of December until beginning of October that is....

Tis the Season....Flu Season...

The flu has struck the House of Moulton.  It's cool...we enjoy the constant running nose, taking sweat baths in the middle of the night, missing essential parts of our favorite TV shows because other family members are hacking up a lung and missing work around the highest volume of shopping season conducted in our house.  It's cool. 

Taking the day off today to stay home with a sickly five year old, I had my first experience at a Pinterest craft failure.  It was pleasant....there was tantrums, snot, f bombs and finally the slam of a trash can lid.  I really don't want to talk about it.....soooooo  how was your day?

I mean, I know people get sick and that's what sick days are for but as a working mother, it is so stressful to have illness hit your house.  I mean I pray for it to show up on Fridays around 3pm so I have the rest of the weekend to nurse my family back to health without worry.  My luck doesn't work like that though so it seems to always hit on a Tuesday. 

I am about to shock you.  Most moms who work out of the home do it out of financial necessity.  Gasp.  Yes, it's not that we choose to abandon our children 40 hours a week with the added bonus of a paycheck for that time, but for the most part National Grid Electric company likes to have their money every month and the only way it gets paid is by someone bringing home some bacon.  I don't have the body for prostitution or stripping so I had to get a day job.  Which for the most part, is a great job.  I have a job most would be envious of.  I never wake up trying to think of a viable reason to call in.  So when I do call in, you know there is some serious sickness going down. 

I truly wonder how Moms who get to stay home do it.  Are you a trust fund baby?  Did you hit pay day by marrying a man who makes enough to support your entire family?  Do you pinch pennies beyond belief?  However you make it happen, I am jealous.  If you ever want to shart your secrets, I have an ear waiting to listen. 

My husband works full time for a great company as well.  I think I would freak out more if he lost his job than if I did because he has the benefits.  He provides our family with health, dental, vision, prescription and life insurance.  By the time all those premiums plus retirement and his child support for his older two children come out of his pay it is no where near what we would need to support our family. 

I am a couponing, sale shopping, penny pinching parent (the name of my Facebook page).  We live in an older home, drive modest vehicles and have been known to wear underwear with holes in them.  Without my paycheck, ends would never meet.  Even with my paycheck, sometimes ends don't meet.  I can clearly remember time where the bank account was empty and so were our cupboards.  Pancakes for dinner kinds of nights.  Just recently have I started to feel like we are back on our feet (Brian's sudden open heart surgery knocked us off for years). 

Just this week alone, our propane ran empty weeks earlier than it should have, we discovered we need a new hot water heater (hence the propane running out), Brian shot a deer and took it to the meat shop and now I have had to take some unanticipated time off.  Extra unexpected expenses, reduced expected income.  Yikes. 

Oh yeah and I had to put two new tires on my car.

When I encounter times like this I have to take deep breaths and remind myself tomorrow is a new day and that next month none of this will matter.  It will all be dust in the wind.  I repeat one of my favorite sayings...."This too shall pass..." 

Madison is starting to run another fever.....maybe Saturday will be a new day....

The Up Side to a Commercialized Christmas

I am so excited about Christmas approaching.  I know I have mentioned before that Christmas time was magical during my childhood years.  Even now as an adult my parents love to spoil us with more gifts than what they should.  The gifts are nice and very much appreciated but my parents taught me so much more than just about gifts around the holidays. 

Right off the bat, I am going to take a stand and say I do not celebrate the religious aspect of the holiday.  For many reasons.  I am not religious and do not pretend to be for the holidays.  Not to mention if you really research the history of Christmas (and not use the Bible in your bibliography) you will find it truly has very little religious roots unless you are Pagan. 

I am the girl who is out shopping Black Friday for the best deals.  Who starts playing Christmas music in October.  Who makes lists and checks them twice....or two hundred times.  I make sure that my kids see all the classics (Rudolph, Peanuts, Garfield Christmas, etc) and we make a big deal out of decorating the tree.  We drive around looking at lights and go to see Santa.  I try as hard as possible to make this a magical time of year.  Because every childhood deserves some magic.

What gets me is when people question my values.  Make comments about celebrating Christmas even though I am not Christian.  Make comments about how much I buy or spend.  About how it should be less about the gifts.  First of all if you are religious, I respect that.  If you believe you are celebrating the birth of baby Jesus, I support that.  If you choose to not spend lots of money on material gifts, I give you props.  As long as you don't try to tell me I am wrong.  If you have mutual respect, so do I. 

There is so much cruelty out in the world.  I just read a story about a little girl whose father and stepmother went to prison for keeping her chained to a dresser and now a year later, in her mother's custody she was just found dead.  She was 6.  SIX.  Her life was filled with horror and hell.  There are children sleeping in cars and sometimes even the streets.  There are children forced into sex traficking and there are children who suffer unimaginable abuse.  So please don't ever try to question my decision to bend over backwards to make this a special time for my kids. 

Christmas to me is about celebrating family and friends.  Teaching about giving and charity.  It is about celebrating winter and the end of another year of life together.  It is about appreciating this moment in time and making it bright and jolly and joyful.  There is nothing commercialized about that. 

I find nothing wrong in letting my children believe in Santa, a true symbol of childhood and believing.  I would get so excited waiting for Santa to come, I couldn't sleep.  One time I was so sleep deprived that I got sick and had to be hospitalized.  Out of sheer excitement.  My sister and I would "practice" how we were to get up Christmas morning.  We would rip out of our beds at 4am and just gaze in amazement of that tree, sparkling with lights and ornaments as it towered over piles of gifts for us.  I know my parents had to have some financial hardships raising us, but you never knew it on Christmas Day.  I remember Christmas Eve going down to play with all my cousins at my grandmothers and stuff ourselves on snack foods.  Baking Christmas cookies with our Mom.  Driving around to look at all the Christmas lights and on the way home from Grandma's watching the sky under our Dad's guidance for a sleigh and 8 tiny reindeer. 

Now, my children sleep til 7am and usually it's me pouncing on them at that point to wake them up.  We gather round the tree and someone passes out gifts.  I could care less about opening mine because my favorite part of Christmas is watching them open their gifts, squeal with excitement and for just maybe a moment not feel one ounce of worry or any other emotion other than joy.  I am beyond fortunate to be able to do what I do for my family and no one should be made to feel bad for about how they decide to celebrate the holidays, or for what reason they do so. 

I love it all.  The decorations.  The carols and music.  The get togethers.  The glow of lights through a velvet black night.  Wrapping paper and bows.  Trees and garland.  Polar Express and Rudolph.  Hot cocoa and sugar cookies.  Santa and his elves.  Stockings hung with care.  Family and friends.  Sales and lists.  I love it all.  Maybe I enjoy the sheer commercialism of it all.  But there was a reason that people read Charles Dickens' A Christmas Story and wanted to reenact the Christmas get togethers depicted in the story.  Because in a world that can be very cruel, it's nice to have one day a year to focus on love, joy and giving. 

So yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus in our home.  And there is a Christmas without religion.  And there is hope, happiness, laughter and sooo much love.  There is magic and there is belief.  There is childhood.  You'd be hard pressed to find someone who has as much Christmas spirit as me.  I know you know what is the right way to raise your children.  So do I.  So don't ever question my beliefs, traiditions or methods to raising my babies.  Because someone will get run over by a reindeer.

The Pinterest that Stole Christmas

I always knew there had to be an alterior motive to Pinterest.  It was one of those too good to be true things.  I mean sometimes I have to set my Kindle down to catch my breath from hyperventilating from the mind blowing ideas I see on there.  Nothing that good is without it's evils.  Tonight I realized it must be administered by the one and only Grinch. 

Stocking stuffers for the older girls used to be a breeze.  Bobby pins, hair ties, socks, lotions and potions and sugar and spice.  Well every since I applied a magnet (with adhesive, can find a 3 pack at Jo-Ann Fabrics or Michael's)  inside my medicine cabinet we have not lost bobby pins.  They are nice and organized, magnetized right within easy reach when doing hair.  I also have a magnet on the wall in Paige's room right next to her full length mirror.  I bought hair ties that come with a metal ring, similar to a key ring to store hair ties on.  Organized....never lost.  We have missing socks boards to help when putting away laundry and located singles that get seperated in the laundy.  What am I to put in their stockings now?!  The Grinch aka Pinterest has stolen my go-to items! 

Cindy Lou-Who shall fear not for there is still on the wish list.  I have checked off quite a bit of projects...PVC pipe shoe racks to keep pairs together and easily accessed.  Cereal boxes cut into organizers to neaten our junk drawer.  Old shutters sitting in the garage were pulled out, washed off, spray painted and hung as ceiling tiles in the enclosed porch.  A piece of spray painted (I love you Krylon) wood and some glued on clothes pins to make a masterpieces display for artwork created by my little one.  My house has literally been Pinterestisized.  I should have taken house before Pinterest and after Pinterest pictures.  I went from loathing this old farmhouse to loving it.  I would see gorgeous mansions and in the same moment of being in awe I would think ughh...I would never be able to keep up with cleaning that monster.  It's hard enough to keep this two floor, four bedroom house clean and organized on my own.  Pinterest was literally my bff in helping me make a house into a home. 

One room I was never fond of was the kitchen.  It was okay, done in a grape theme that at one time was very stylish but now is an outdated look.  The worst aspect of the kitchen was the carpet.  I HATE carpet in the kitchen.  There are two rooms that you never ever have carpet in.  The kitchen and the bathroom.  Even worse, the carpet was a dark green so every little bit of dirt or food would be like a neon light.  Every spill would be a stain.  Cupboards were a nice solid wood set, but outdated.  One day I just snapped.  Decided to start with a backsplash.  I grabbed the car keys and drove off to my FantasyLand aka Lowe's. 

$100 later and I had a tiled backsplash.  I also had the start to a several long month fire that burned in me to motivate and complete (yet thrifty) revamping of our home.  Living room I painted opposite walls a deep Ox Blood red (yes really the name of the paint) that I got off the clearance rack at a local Ace Hardware.  I left the other two walls a beige.  I spray painted an old wicker stand black and used it for DVD's.  I took an old dresser in storage, took drawers and braces out, spray painted it black and use it for blanket storage.  I spray painted all my picture frames black and put a new rug in the living room and LOVE the results. 

I took an old and FREE entertainment stand that I saw by the side of the road and made a kitchen play set for my daughter.  Lesson learned from this was to measure the staircase prior to doing a project meant to go in an upstairs bedroom, but this issue was fixed by borrowing a Load-All and some man power.  Easy peasy!

I revamped both girls rooms with some paint, decals and new bedding.  In my oldest daughter's room she had a corkboard that I covered with some fabric to update the look.  Decals and paint in my staircase.  Paint and painter's tape to create an abstract designed wall.  Fabric and some plywood to create wall hangings.  Decals and a new shower curtain in the bathroom.  Finally I had run out of projects to do except finish the kitchen that had sat with a new brown and white tiled backsplash with green and purple walls.  I did a faux finish with two tones of brown on the wall.  I took apart the cupboards and steel wooled years of built up grime off the wood.  Instead of buying all new hinges and cabinet handles I cleaned them up by soaking in vinegar for a few hours, scrubbing with some dish soap (the grime comes right off after the vinegar soak) and then, of course, spray painting the handles, hinges and screws.  Voila, new updated cabinet hardware!  I was going to leave the cupboards but the plain wood really bugged me and clashed with the new colors.  I started by painting the upper cabinets white.  My husband asked me to leave the bottom cupboards the wood colored.  I didn't like the thought but reluctantly agreed.

Until this weekend that is.

My husband always goes to the Southern Tier opening hunting season weekend and camps for the whole weekend.  This used to bother me in our newlywed stage but now does not phase me at all.  Honeymoon phase is over.  However, my five year old was an emotional mess over Daddy leaving for the weekend.  She clung to him and her older brother, begging and pleading for them not to leave.  She was petrified they would never come back or in the course of a weekend, forget that she existed.  Thursday night he hugged her tight and promised to wait until she got back from school to leave.  Guess who broke his promise?  I was irritated that he wasn't keeping his word to her but didn't put up too much of a fight, especially after he said he would call her right around the time she got off the bus.  That time came and went, no phone call.  That phone call never came that night at all.  I had to break the news he left already and she was hysterical.  Furious does not even come close to how I felt.  No excuse for not keeping his word to her.

So I let that emotion simmer over night, of course after a quite pleasant text message to him.  The next day it hit me.  Perfect timing to go against my word and paint the cupboards.  And that is exactly what I did.  Not white, like the upper cupboards but I used the deeper of the two brown tones on the lower cupboards.  It is gorgeous.  I am so pleased.  With the outcome and of course the decision of retribution.  Oh you forgot to call your daughter?  I forgot I told you I wouldn't paint the lower cupboards!  Whoops!

Female praying mantis' kill the male after mating.  Well played, bitches, well played.  Looks like I know what animal I want to come back as in my next life!

So he came home, took one look at the cupboards, said, "Disgusting" and that was that.  Ugh, disappointing reaction.  I am not sure what I expected though.  He was well aware of what he was getting when he married me.  An alpha male would not be able to handle the woman I am. 

So now hopefully Santa will drop some wooden laminate flooring down our chimney or at least a Lowe's gift card.  I am willing to exchange extra cookies and milk for this gift.  I can find some mind blowing cookie recipes right on Pinterest. 

In 2013 I plan on doing our extra bedroom over that my stepkids sleep in when they come over as well as our office/gym area and our bedroom.  So for now, sugar plums can dance in my head as I dream of those finished projects.  I am a bit fearful of what will happen when all my projects are complete.  I think I have already proved my idle hands are the Devil's workshop.  All the Who's in Whoville should fear that day....

Knock, knock

A knock on the door can only mean one of four situations:

1.  Expected company has arrived.  This is the rarest type of knock.  This means you have been lingering in the room near the door awaiting the sound of the knock.  You will open the door and the smell of freshly baked goods will surround the guests as you welcome them into your clean as can be home.  Despite spending hours slaving over cleaning the house, screaming at the kids as they attempt to mess up your masterpiece of a home, you toss your perfectly styled hair over your shoulder, smile, bat your eyes and ask your guests to excuse the mess in your home, knowing damn well that it's not a mess at all...it's in the rare form of clean.  Your makeup is complete, your socks match and you are wearing a bra. 

2.  Unexpected company has arrived.  This is the most common type of knock.  This knock guarantees that you have no bra on, your home is in conditions that the health department would condemn it, you child is naked and instantly sprints to greet the person at the door.  Another good way to guarantee this kind of knock is if you are running late to someplace and trying to get out the door.  How does one nicely say, "Get the hell out."?  This is also the time the dog is most likely to drag a used tampon out of the trash and into the living area. 

3.  Unexpected strangers have arrived.  Jehovah Witnesses, Sales People and people you don't know looking for your spouse all fall under this category.  All of the conditions for Unexpected Known company except for you have a slightly higher chance of also being pantless in this situation.  Naked child running to the front door also is more likely to occur.  You will be completely ticked that they made you peel yourself off the couch and wrap your blanket around your nearly naked waist to see what they want.  99% of the time that I peer out the window and don't recognize the vehicle I don't bother getting off the couch...I just hiss at the kids to stay low and wait for the knocking to stop. 

4.  Friends and Family who you are comfortable with stop by.  At which time you don't care what the house looks like or if anyone is dressed at that point.  Bras are optional. 

If you ever want to prevent #2 and #3 just clean your house.  Be fully dressed.  Do your makeup and hair.  It is 100% effective at hindering any unexpected company. 

I definitely remember as a kid seeing a vehicle pull in the driveway and mass chaos breaking out.  You had like 5 minutes and 14 seconds to get the house presentable.  Mom took the dirty dishes and threw them into the oven, dishwasher, bathtub, whatever was necessary.  Dad took to picking up dirty laundry strewn about paying special attention to bras and underwear.  I took toy duty, sprinting throughout main rooms and picking up stray toys and chucking them into back bedrooms.  My sister had door shutting duty, closing all doors of rooms that company would least likely enter.  My brother had to dress his naked self.  The dog chewed on a used tampon.  Sometimes we would practice unexpected company drills and time ourselves to make sure we were on point.  Now I look back and realize that Mom was just getting us to clean up a bit.  Definitely helped strengthen our family bond.  I know it scarred me to a point that I hate being unexpected company.  Unless I know the person and fall under a Category 4.  My whole point is give me a days notice before dropping in.  Otherwise you are walking into a war zone.  This blogging, penny pinching, couponing, exercising, cooking, Pinteresting Mama/Wife does not have daily time to dedicate to housework.  And afte the passing of a wonderful friend who preferred to live life over cleaning house and I bet she doesn't spend a second in the afterlife regretting that I don't second guess myself much anymore either. 

On another note, I received a coupon in the mail today.  $50 off a $100 purchase.  Wow, that would get a huge chunk of my Christmas shopping done at 50% discounts!  Thennn I read the fine print.  Excludes Bonus Buys, Door Busters, electronics/Tech Trek, fine jewelry, fine and fashion watches, fragrance & cosmetics, cause-related merchandise and other charitable items, furniture departments and mattresses, clearance center merchandise, gift cards, Incredible Values, salon products, service departments, special orders, Yellow Dot merchandise, small electrics, health & wellness, toys, food, coffee, candy, Brahmin, Coach, Columbia, Frye, Levi's, Michael Kors, Not Your Daughter's Jeans, Tempur-Pedic, and regular price items from Dooney & Bourke, Dansko, Ecco, Birkenstock, Merrell, Designer Shoe Salon, Lucky Brand, Polo, Lauren Ralph Lauren and Wacoal. 

Okay, okay...wouldn't it just be easier to tell me the three items that it can be used on?  Seriously, I can't stand a bunch of stipulations in coupons.  Or free shipping deals where you have to spend at least $100.00 to get the free shipping.  I always end up finding $94.55 worth of merchandise.  That's not a deal, that should be a given if people spend that much at your store.  Especially not taking on my second job, this year I am looking to be as savvy as possible with Christmas.  There are some deals that really aren't deals. 

I try not to let those minor shopping irritations get to me.  I know that in just a matter of time there will always something great knocking at my door ; )

The Gift You Can't Buy

Picture it.  We just got done at an hour long session of Kicks for Kids (a soccer program) at the local YMCA.  We are hungry, tired.  We stop at Burger King for something quick.  Madison spills her BBQ sauce, starts screaming at the top of her lungs, moaning that we might as well just throw her dinner out the window for God's sake (those were her EXACT words).  We have to giggle, which only infuriates this overtired 5-year-old even more.  It is mass chaos all confined in a Mitsubishi Lancer.  Ironically enough, it is this very family that I had decided was more important and precious to me than working a seasonal job.

For the past several years I have worked during the Christmas season in order to make extra spending cash for the holidays.  It meant 16 hours days sometimes and many nights away from home, but Christmas morning the tree was always surrounded in mounds of gifts.  It was always what I had grown up with...my Dad worked 80 hour weeks and we were spoiled rotten every Christmas.  Christmases are some of my fondest childhood memories.  My parents bent over backwards to make it the most wonderful time of the year. 

My dad now has cancer, a cancer that we suspect is a result of the exposure to chemicals in his workplace over twenty some years.  He now looks back in regrets to working all that time for material things.  Yet here I am repeating the same mistake year after year. 

I loved my seasonal job last year.  It was at the mall, with all the hustle and bustle of holiday shopping.  Christmas music playing in the background, awesome co-workers, simple work.  I actually got excited when I got my paperwork in the mail and it was part of my holiday excitement. 

I don't know what happened today but I had a mini panic attack over starting a second job.  Maybe it's the fact that I always feel tired.  Or the fact that my house looks like a tornado blew threw it.  Or the fact that my kids are growing up before my very eyes and time with them is priceless.  If I have learned anything over the past year it's that life is fragile and fleeting.  You never know when you will lose someone you love or even when your last breath will be.  No one should live as if tomorrow is guaranteed.  I am not suggesting we quit our jobs to pursue our buckets lists, but I am saying make enough to pay your bills and live life with clothes on your back but other than that ENJOY LIFE. 

I talked to a few close people to get their perspective on it all.  Of course, I cried after getting off the phone with my dad.  In retrospect, I would give up all the material things to have spent more time appreciating moments together.  I really just needed him to cement those emotions for me and reinforce the decision my heart had already made. 

So I sat down tonight, made my lists and checked it twice.  I budgeted everything out and I can do this.  I cut back on a few material things.  I will be clipping coupons and sale shopping everything but I am going to bake cookies, drive around to look at lights, go for a ride on the Polar Express, watch every single Christmas show on TV and just soak up every moment of the holidays with my family.  Maybe there won't be flowing heaps under the tree, but there will be gifts for everyone and there will be love and laughter and memories. 

Last but not least, I need to stop biting off more than I can chew.  I work full time, I am raising two girls, I have a husband, a home and a body that requires exercise and rest.  I am making myself a priorty again.  That is a gift that you just can not buy!

The Answer to Achieving World Peace

Men are the more fortunate sex.  Anyone who disagrees is sure to have a penis.  Men are clueless when it comes to what it's like to be a woman.  The do not have uteruses that collapse once a month and their bodies are never Human cannons that propel out balls of babies.  Argument won.

Just for this blog's sake, I want to dive deeper into what it's like to be a woman.  Let's start with hygiene.  Men, you complain about when we hibernate from the razor for the winter.  We deal with your body hair 24/7, 365 days a year.  How is that any different?  And please, do release your secret about how it never bothers you to have your leg hair rub against your pants or catch on the bedsheets.  That IS the only reason we cave and shave.  Or maybe for just five more minutes of peace and quiet in the shower. 

While we are on the subject of the shower, FYI:  it is the only time that we are truly "alone".  It's why there are locks on bathroom doors.  We honestly are crying on the inside when you "slip" inside the shower with us.  Sex in the shower is just not fun as a woman.  It's slippery, someone is going to break an arm, the water is pouring in our faces and we are slowly drowning, emotionally and physically.  I have a close friend who I was once complaining about this with and she pointed out that unless you have a HUGE walk in shower, sex in the shower is just not practical.  Her husband (a bigger guy) and her were showering together while she was pregnant.  They tried to switch spots so he could be under the shower head to rinse off.  Mid-switch he lost his balance, flipped backwards out of the shower, taking the shower curtain with him, slid across the floor and finally came to a stop when his head hit the wall, legs up in the air with everything just on display.  She could not stop laughing to ask if he was okay.  Either could I as she told me about it. 

The only bad thing about a long shower is wondering what we will find when we finally emerge.  Especially if football is on, we know you are not paying attention to the kids.  It takes two to make a baby, but in most homes I know of it's a 70-30 parenting balance.  I should not have to "check with you" on if you are available to "babysit" your own kids when I have something I want/need to do unless you do the same with me.  Hunting season is not an automatic hall pass to get out of ever being home with the kids.  I do continue having a life mid-October to mid-December, believe it or not.  Also going to buy groceries for the family does not fall under the category of retail therapy or count towards "me" time.  And if the kids are tagging along, shopping is not fun in any way or form.

Granted that if I ask my husband to make dinner, help out with bedtime or run the kids somewhere he is generally pretty good about it.  However, I should not have to ask!  No one asks me to make dinner, to do laundry, to clean the house.  I just do it.   Just because we are woman does not mean that it is our duty to make dinner, do dishes, vacuum and put the kids to bed after bath time.  And by all means if we take ten minutes to sit braless in our pjs in the recliner with uncombed hair, unbrushed teeth and no makeup do not tell us that you think we are letting ourselves "go".  My husband would personally never survive after uttering these words but I was just told of this BEAUTIFUL supermom whose husband said this to her and I just about died. 

My husband does have the smarts to not utter words such as those to me, but however when it comes to our money he can be infuriating.  He wants no part in the managing of the budget, the paying of the bills but if he comes and asks for something and I tell him the money isn't there right then and there he wants to know where all our money goes.  Apparently the cable TV, the wifi, the food and the lights must all be free.  The car and truck in our driveway?  Free.  Taxes?  Exempt.  Don't let my two inch long dark roots, bra hanging on by only one hook and basic cell phone that ghosts texts people fool you.  I take ALLLLL our money and blow it on me.  I apologize, I will go grab you your dinner, a beer, turn on football for you and take the kids somewhere so you can have peace and quiet to make it all better. 

There is a push for women to be thin, perky, beautiful, sexy 24/7.  Society turns their head for a man with a gut.  There is a push for a woman to learn to juggle work, keeping the house clean, raising the kids.  A man is viewed as weak if he helps out with his equal share.  A headstrong man is viewed as macho and powerful, while a headstrong woman is a bitch.  It is far more acceptable for a man to be promiscious than a woman. 

Shortly after I had my c-section with my last daughter, my husband and I were out in public with her.  She was in her carrier and since I could not carry more than 5 lbs he carried her.  An older man came up to him and right in front of me said that it's the woman's job to be carrying around the baby, not the man.  True story.  In the balance of nature, I believe that it was a necessity to make man part of reproducing.  Otherwise, women would probably kill them all off.  Only then would there be world peace. 

**No men were injured in the production of this blog.  However a woman did manage to write and publish this blog while making dinner, feeding the children, cleaning the kitchen and starting a load of laundry.  Don't worry- the men folk are in the woods hunting!**

 

Mama's Leftover Ham Soup

One of the biggest complaints I hear from SuperMoms is coming up with new affordable and easy dinner ideas.  I grew up eating a soup so simple to throw together and a thrifty meal too!  Now I serve it to my kids and they are always asking this Mama for seconds and thirds!  So I thought I'd share!

I love buying a good ham.  Every smart shopper loves a buy that will give her two to three meals!  There are so many ideas of what to do with leftover ham.  Scalloped ham & potatoes, sweet n sour ham over rice, ham & eggs....and Mama's Leftover Ham Soup!  Great for chilly fall & winter evenings and maybe even lunch the next day!

Take two family sized cans of Cream of Mushroom soup.  I usually add one can of milk and one can of water, but you can adjust this for a thicker or thinner soup.  I chop up the leftover ham, add any leftover veggies (if none a bag of frozen green beans or corn will do) and any leftover potatoes and heat until warm!  Serve with some bread for sopping up the very last bit of this super simple but amazingly delicious soup! 

Just so you know- I HATE mushrooms but I can not get enough of this soup!  Onion lovers, add sliced onions to the soup or top with French's Fried Onions.  Yummmmmy!   I truly find I don't need any additional seasonings needed!

Fill Me Up Scotty!

So I got my Lap Band adjusted, which means they inject my port (under the skin of my stomach) with saline and it tightens my band, making it more difficult to eat large portions of food.  Of course I still can consume the wrong kinds of food, so this is not a magical weight loss answer, but more of a tool to help me not overeat.  The downside of this is for the first 48 hours after a fill, I can only consume liquids.  For the 3rd and 4th day after, only soft foods. 

I am MISERABLE right now with hunger.  I have been watching Vampire Diaries and I understand that insatiable hunger they keep talking about.  I feel like I have empathy for vampires now.  I should definitely be allowed in their inner circle...score since most vampires are majorly hot.  On TV at least.  I can see it now.  Hottie McHottie Vampire in one corner sucking on a neck while I am crouched down in the opposite corner, hovering over a giant freakin cookie that I have been sinking my teeth into, smears of chocolate all over my face.  I.  Just.  Can't.  Control.  Myself. 

Luckily the fear of ripping my stomach open scares me into following doctor's orders for the most part.  I admit I am supposed to wait til Day 3 or 4 to eat cottage cheese but I needed some protein.  I was feeling dizzy and shaky.  Food withdrawals I suppose.  But I must it up with my tongue until liquidy before I swallow it. 

During these times looking through cookbooks is the equivalent of a perv looking at porn.  I drool, fantasize and long for whatever dish is so glamorously displayed on a simple white plate.  Oh you bad, bad teriyaki chicken breast.  Don't make me gobble you right up. 

Today I drove down to McD's for a pumpkin milkshake.  Normally something I try to avoid the temptation of as I am well aware of the calories in one of these bad boys, but without any solids in my systems the thickness of a shake calms the screaming beast in my belly.  For a bit anyways.  McDonalds for the most part disgusts me.  I will eat their salads every once in a great while and their shakes and McFlurries are pretty tasty but that's about all I like there.  I can't get past knowing what the chicken nuggets look like before they are nuggets.  I can't get past the pink slime in the burgers.  Fast food is pretty much the equivalent of self ingestion of poison.  Except Taco Bell.  100% healthy.  Don't dare to inform me of otherwise.  Especially at this point of my four days of malnourishment.  Anyways I am in drive thru line and I see this poster of the new CBO burger.  Cheddar, Bacon & Onion.  What would normally turn my stomach at the thought of actually made my taste buds perk up.  My mind was screaming oh hell no while waving a finger in the air while my tongue was knocking that voice out and my belly was crying for a CBO pink slime burger.  Eaaaatttt ittt.  Ittt'sss sooo yummmyyy.  I'mmm sooo looonnnellly anddd empttyyy downn hereeeee....FEEDDDD MEEEEE. 

Luckily for me LapBand Man came to the rescue and reminded me no solids for four days.  And once I am able to eat oatmeal, eggs, salads, meats and veggies I will be fine with that.  Maybe I should then start trying to wean myself off of the sugar....but that is whole other blog with tales of it's own demons.  For now, I sit here sipping on my delicious Starbucks Salted Caramel Hot Cocoa, counting the hours down until I can return to a normal diet.  I can't believe I did this for five weeks around my surgery.

On another topic regarding the Lap Band what the hell was I thinking getting a surgery which requires frequent injections?  I am the girl who won't get a tattoo because she fears the needle.  Who hasn't had a tetanus shot in probably 20 years because the thought of a needle makes her woozy.  Even worse is where my port implanted on my stomach muscle makes it difficult to locate with a needle.  So they have to poke around with the needle to find the spot and yesterday it was about 20 pokes before the doctor connected.  I was so sore last night!  I am pretty sure this is a form of modern medevil like torture.  The only reason I agreed to voluntarily undergo this torture was due to the years of hitting the McDonald's drive thru....I blame the pink slime that has built up in my body over the years.  I definitely think this is a legit lawsuit.....

Cover Up Your Age Girl

Sensa.  Thigh Master.  Alli.  Stacker Pills.  Quicktrim.  Fen-phen.  Ab Circle.  So many products offering an easy way to a thin, toned body.  If it were only that simple.  If there was a quick, easy way to become thin & toned, everyone would do it.  Believe me when I say, no one enjoys their thighs rubbing against each other.  No one.  No one says I wish I had more jiggle to the wiggle of my arm.  Nobody.

It's the same idea with aging.  So many products out there promising, tighter, younger looking skin.  Anti-aging.  Billions of dollars are spent every year by people hoping to discover the Fountain of Youth within a bottle.  Eye cream, face cream, day solution, night solution, lip fillers, Retin-A, collagen boosting.  We all hope to find that miracle potion that makes those wrinkles disappear.  No more circles under the eyes.  A facelift at your fingertips. 

You can fight the battle of the bulge with smart food choices and exercise.  The easy answer is burn more than you ingest.  This just proves too hard for most to do.  However, there is no answer with aging.  We can't fight Mother Nature.  Wrinkles, grays, sagging...it's bound to happen. 

I am well aware of the aging process in my early 30's.  I am remarkably more tired, on a daily basis.  I love you caffeine.  I see the fine lines appearing, the grays whispering in my hair.  I find it increasingly more difficult to find new music that I enjoy.  I keep returning to the music I grew up with.  I remember when 9pm was just the beginning of my night and now it's pretty much the end of my night.  I remember when I would wear push up bras, heels and huge hoop earrings.  Now I love the feeling of sports bra, long sleeved floral night shirts and what is jewelry?  I will always choose comfort over style.  I prefer nights in to nights out.  I can no longer pop, lock and drop it without popping a bone out of joint, locking up my knees and dropping in pain.  There are snaps, crackles and pops as I walk.  If me 8-9 years ago could see me today, she would down several shots of Southern Comfort in horror and disgust.  That girl is but a memory, tucked deep into my mind. 

I attended a Mary Kay party this weekend.  Facials and makeovers.  I showed up in gray leggings, flip flops and a size 2X hoodie.  Hey, it was super comfortable.  We did facials, which involved like 8 steps.  Exfoliate, cleanse, dermabrasion, moisture, tone, prime, powder...then it was time for makeup.  Three different colors of shadows...upper lid, lower lid, crease...eyeliner above and below the eye...mascara...lip liner, lip color, lip gloss.  I needed a nap after all that work.  I looked in the mirror and felt like a clown with all that makeup on.  I never realized how truly low maintenance I am until that point.  We are so willing to take the time, the money, the energy to invest in trying to look younger, better without really asking what we are rubbing on our faces.  I am willing to bet the ingredients they use to compose your favorite product will end up doing more long term damage than Mother Nature does. 

I think we should embrace life, age, fine lines.  No matter what age you are, there are millions of people who never got to experience that age.  All that glimmers is sure to fade and looking young in my casket is not going to matter to me.  Sure I like a little color, I dab on mascara daily.  But at the end of the day, I want to be know for the woman I am under the makeup.  I want to be remembered for my smarts, my efforts as a mother, as a friend, as kind, loving and opinionated.  I don't want to be known as someone who spent my life trying to defy my age.  In the end, it just seems like a waste of time. 

The next time you look in the mirror and think about buying a product or seeking professional help to fix a flaw, just think of those who took it too far.  Like Bruce Jenner or Heidi Montag.  Michael Jackson.  Jocelyn Wildenstein.  Natural you is always going to be more beautiful than plastic you. 

That is the question...

You know it's a damn good workout when you are searching for the room for that horrible smell and you suddenly realize that smell is you.  I admit, it was a mixture of disgust and accomplishment that flooded me at that moment.  That's hot.

I fell off the exercise wagon.  I took on too much, like I do far too often and of course, I became the last priority.  Unfortunatly during that exercise hiatus I started suspecting that a recurring medical issue I have was rearing its ugly head.  Since age 16 I have suffered from nasal polyps that have to be surgically removed from my sinus and nasal cavity.  It has robbed me of my sense of smell, dulled my taste buds and frustrates me to no end as there is no cure. 

A nasal polyp is basically a benign tumor.  I usually don't realize it has returned until it has grown to a size that creates difficult side effects like nasal drip, pain in my upper gums, a constant sound of stuffiness, difficulty breathing through my nose, snoring, sleep apnea and migraines.  Two surgeries ago the doctor said it was the size of a baseball and the last polyp was even larger than that. 

So I am trying to get back on the exercise wagon, but the polyp is making it quite difficult to get back to where I was.  I struggle with two miles due to breathing when I just ran a 10k in August.  I get very angry at times that this is happening again, but I have to calm myself down because the anger will do no good or make no difference.

I did do some research and the one term that keeps recurring in my nasal polyp research is cystic fibrosis.  When I was pregnant for Madison my genetic testing was positive for cystic fibrosis and Brian had to be tested to be sure he didn't carry the genes.  I am now wondering if I have a very mild case of cystic fibrosis.  It would make so much sense with issues I have had my entire life.  Lots of people with mild cases are not diagnosed until adulthood. 

 

More than anything it is beyond frustrating to have no control over your body.  I want to run 3, 4 miles and I can't get the oxygen flow I need.  I want to roll over in bed without feeling the polyp shift in my sinus cavity.  I don't ever want to have another surgery again.  I don't want to live in constant fear of it coming back and causing this discomfort.  I go to the surgeon's on the 22nd and I wish they could do the surgery on the 23rd.  I really don't know how I would handle it if I was told I could no longer run.  I know one day my body will fail me and that is very humbling and hard to think about.  I just think at age 32 I'm too young to be physically limited.  I close this blog with a question.  Would you rather be of sound mind and lose control physically or be physically able but lose your mind? 

I hate Aunt Flo

Being perfect is exhausting.  I feel like I have a non stop list of things I need to get done as soon as possible.  I finish one task and add two more to the list.  I have been known to take on way too much, but I have not yet learned to slow it down.  It's like I feel this life is so short and just want to cram as much as I possibly can in each moment.  

Cheer competition is this weekend, it's the first of the month so my work load triples, I am in the midst of remodeling the house, my husband's work in in the middle of a buyout...it's just been crazy.  So tonight I left work, drove straight up to Watertown to shop for cheer comp, went to pick up my Mom from work, went to my parents' to have a dinner to celebrate my sister's engagment, came home, whipped together two dozen fun and creative treats for Madison's class, tie-dyed twenty pairs of socks for cheer comp crazy sock parade, did a few loads of laundry and finally crawled to the recliner at 10pm.  The dog tried to get in the chair with me to cuddle and I pushed him away and told him I had a headache.  Yeah, it's that bad. 

It doesn't make things any better that Aunt Flo is here for her monthly visit.  That instantly puts me in a pissy mood.  There is no plus side to having your period.  I mean other than knowing you are not pregnant but I don't have time for sex right now.  I forgot to schedule that in.  It's a vicious cycle...I am in a bad mood, I crave sweets on account of my hormones and because I am an emotional eater.  I don't make rational choices.  Just today my co worker and I were craving snacks around 2pm...our normal Hour of Hunger.  She wanted chocolate, I wanted chips.  As I left work I told her she needed to think of something that was healthy, fried and chocolate for me to grab on the way to Watertown.  We tossed around some ideas, like fried chocolate, chocolated dipped fried chicken, Oreo flavored kettle chips.  Bad choices lead to guilt, lack of time and energy leads to no exercise which leads to an overabundance of calories not burned, which turns to pounds, which turns to thunder thighs.  Imperfect, touching thunder thighs.   These ideas were brought to you on behalf of PMS. 

When in Watertown, I had to buy supplies for Aunt Flo's visit.  All I wanted was thin, regular length maxi pads with wings.  Is it that difficult to get what a girl wants??  They are all super strength, extra long, overnight diapers.  Kotex, I sprung a leak, I haven't flooded the basement.  No wonder I can't send Brian to get these for me.  It's like Mission Impossible to find anything less than a Wet Vac in a Pad. 

So I am sitting here bloated, tired, cranky, hungry and imperfect wondering what it is I need to do to find some sort of balance.  I need more sleep, more exercise, more organization, more down time but how do I do it?  Am I the only one who struggles to juggle it all?  All I know is I look forward to next week when should slow down a bit for me with cheerleading ending.  I definitely think some down time is in order...at least until my holiday job and soccer starts.

50 Shades of Vanilla

I must have less than 50 shades of sexuality.  I just don't get the fuss over 50 Shades of Grey.  I never realized that S&M was so popular.  It's just when I close my eyes and think of the steamiest sex imaginable, it NEVER involves a riding crop.  It's like in my fantasy, he pulls out a riding crop, I roll over, throw a flannel nightgown on and go grab a jar of Nutella and a spoon with a glass of milk and the only thing getting turned on is Lifetime Movie Network. 

I don't have that great of a pain threshold so maybe that is it.  I stub my toe and it's 50 Shades of Swearing.  I instantly get Tourette's and start shouting out odd obscenities like "Ass Mother Shit Son Fuck of a Bitch Hole". I can't believe this book has exploded the way it has.  Horrible writing, S&M, tacky love story.  I just don't get it.  Apparently I am odd woman out because from what I understand this book was lighting bedrooms on fire across the world.  It was definitely a good time to invest in condom stocks.  I just can not wrap my mind around this epidemic. 

I wonder if half of the women who are gushing over how hot this book is would be as excited to find S&M porn in their man's possesion.  A man is in to it, he's a pervert and a pig.  A woman is in to 50 Shades of Grey and she is sultry.  Double standards at play here.  In fact when Prince sang about S&M it was very controversial and had a big hand in the creation of "Parental Warnings" on music.  Although I do believe Darling Nikki is Mr. Grey's Mrs. Robinson/Elena. 

The question for me here is would I submit to that in order to have access to a billionaire.  That is a good question.  I like money.  A lot.  Money blurs a lot of lines.  I don't think any woman would sign that contract for a man who was living in his Grandparents basement working at Burger King.  He'd have a Red Corner instead of a Red Room. 

Maybe I am too controlling, too dominant to ever understand the attraction of being submissive to another.  Maybe I just enjoy "Vanilla Sex".  At the end of the day I can not, will not ever find anything to do with S&M to be appealing.  Unless Ryan Gosling is involved.  Then all bets are off, beat away Mr. Gosling!

Murder in the worst degree

Is murder wrong?  Before you jump to answer that, take a step back and think about it.  Murder to what degree?  Can you measure murder? 

Have you set a mouse trap?  Is that premeditated murder?  Have you swatted a fly before?  Is that murder in the heat of the moment?  Have you had an abortion?  Is that a legal form of murder?  Do you know anyone in the military, all trained to kill?

I know one day I had to drive home during my lunch break.  As I got into the car, I noticed a wasp perched on the driver's side mirror.  As I picked up speed, that little bastard clung on the mirror.  I sped up, trying to make the gust of wind so strong he would be flung to the road, surely to die upon impact.  The fast I drove, the more I could see him strain to keep his grip, in tune with the natural instinct to fight for life.  I pulled into my driveway, amazed that A) I had managed to keep the car on the road while so obsessed with my insect rage and B) That wasp had managed to hang on and survive.  I saw him put his pointer and middle fingers up in the air then he pointed to his eyes and then to mine...he let me know he knew who I was and he'd be back to avenge the murder attempt on his life.  I slept with one eye open that night waiting for the gang of wasps to ascend the stairs and make me pay for my insect rage. 

Do you feel bad when you end the life of a bug?  Isn't that taking a life?  As you are dining on steak, do you not somewhat feel like the Hannibal Lechter of the cow community?  We hand out permits every year to allow people to seek and hunt and kill innocent deer, turkeys and rabbits.  I don't even want to hear about how we save the deer from disease or overpopulation.  Next we will be allowed to each murder 2 people in order to cut back on the population and disease in humans. 

On September 11th, 2001 the United States was under attack initiated by terrorists from Afghanistan.  We were horrified that their militia invaded our country and killed thousands of innocent citizens.  So to make it right, we invaded their country and killed thousands of innocent citizens as well as thousands of our troops.  Sorry, but I still can't see the sense in war.  It's wrong to kill so in order to make you see how wrong it is, I am going to kill you?  Hellllooo hypocrites! 

I mean honestly, if you want to punish them the right way, put them in jail cells that only get Nascar races on their TV's.  Hello idea of personal hell. 

If the military is going to play the eye for an eye card, I think all crimes should be punishable by those means.  If you molest someone, you should be molested.  If you beat a child to death, you should be beaten to death.  If you set someone on fire, you should be set on fire.  Do unto others as you would want done upon yourself.  Shouldn't it be the same rules across the board?

If you were to give birth and abandon that child and that child were to die, it would be murder.  However if the day before you gave birth you went into a clinic and had the doctor perform an abortion, it is within your legal rights.  Yes, I can completely make sense of that.  They say life begins at first breath, but if you were to give birth to a stillborn baby you would receive a death certificate.  In order for any being to experience death, they would first have to experience life.  These are the thoughts that keep me awake at night.

So at what degree is murder wrong?  Punishable?  And who gets to decide that?

Love Thyself

It's Friday night, about 6:30pm.  In the past few weeks I have come to cherish Friday nights.  My stepson plays Varsity Football and so my husband takes the girls and goes to watch his games.  For a few short yet sweet, bliss filled hours I am alone. 

My life is filled with such chaos and constant on the go that it is so nice to end the week and start the weekend with a few hours of silence.  No plans, no agendas....just a few hours to do whatever it is I desire.  Granted, the mother in me tells me not so quietly that I should attend these games but it is the only chance I ever get to be alone.  I think far too often people forget just how important a few hours of alone time truly is.  From the time I wake up I am constantly surrounded by people who need my assistance.  From waking the kids up to getting their breakfast, taking them to school, working 8 hours in an office where I constantly am assisting coworkers or customers on the phone to getting home, cooking dinner, getting everything ready for the next day so yes, I NEED these two hours. 

I love to just be my own company.  In the past year, I really feel as if I have learned to start loving myself.  I had Lap Band surgery July 2011.  I think my intentions were not clear.  I had visions of me going out with my friends, dancing like back when I was in my mid twenties.  I thought of all the cute clothes I could wear.  Feeling attractive again.  I have lost a significant amount of weight, but not anywhere where I had envisioned.  With the Lap Band, you can eat sweets.  With gastric, sweets are hell on your system.  So I started considering getting a revision to gastric. 

I thought about it quite often.  Just the other day, I was online and just happened to come across a web page where a girl was talking about her life.  How one day she was a twenty something carefree girl to an overnight guardian of her sister, burdened with bills and responsibility.  How?  Her mother passed from complications of gastric bypass. 

At that moment, I had a major epiphany.  I completely dismissed the gastric idea, reflecting back on the very reason I opted against it before.  The risks are considerably higher than Lap Band.  I have so much more to live for than a small waist and perfect body.  Will I stop exercising and trying to eat right?  Absolutely not.  I LOVE to run and to work out and how I feel after.  Am I ever going to be a size 2, a size 4 or even a size 6?  Probably not, and I think I am finally okay with that.  I am so much more than this physical body.  I have a husband who is faithful, hard working and accepts me for who I am.  I have given birth to two healthy, beautiful baby girls who bring me more joy in this world than any other being on this Earth.  I have a great job that I am successful in.  I have amazing friends, people who just restore my faith in humanity everyday.  I try to surround myself with positive, happy people who inspire me, encourage me, educate me and love me for me.  I truly succeed at anything I attempt.  I am able bodied, of sound mind (most times) and live a respectable, good life.  I have naturally curly hair that can be as wild as my dreams and hopes.  I have pretty blue eyes with nice long lashes.  My teeth are crooked in the front, but at least I have them all!  I admit, I have a brilliant brain that is capable of quickly picking up on new tasks and comprehending most that is presented to it, although the whole Higgs Boson thing completely leave me dumb founded.  I love to laugh and love to give.  I may have thighs that touch and bat wings that flap when I wave my arms but if someone dislikes me due to that, then I don't want them in my life anyways. 

Let's be honest, I did go out after my weight loss and discovered I hate the bar scene now.  I don't really like to drink anymore and it's a boring scene.  I am so much happier at home with my family, with my friends.  I'd rather run a 5k or work on cheerleading routines or coupon or write a blog than spend a night blowing my money in a bar and spending the next 48 hours trying to recover.  It's just not me anymore.  And even a smaller size, I still opt for comfortable clothes over attractive clothes.  I love yoga pants and sneakers and throw up at the thought of skinny jeans and heels.  I am much more comfortable in my own skin, would ideally love to drop another 20 pounds but if I never lost a pound I think I still could be happy in life.  My thirties really have become about finding myself and loving myself. 

Too often we focus on what is wrong, rather than what is right.  If you are reading this, take a moment when done to really think about what is awesome about yourself.  Don't be humble.  Get on Facebook and announce to the world what you love about you.  About your life.  Learn to accept who you are, what you are and what you look like.  Surround yourself with people who know how great you are and who you think are just as great.  Do not let anyone bring you down.  Find friends who you can talk to about your imperfections and laugh about what age does to you.  It's always comforting to know you are not the only one with boobs traveling south. 

I love to hear when people say they really connect with what I say.  It truly reinforces why I blog.  I want people to know they are normal, wonderful and sane.  I want people to know they are never alone in this world and that life may not be easy but you must learn to laugh at the hardships. I know you like the funny blogs, but it is just as important to read the motivational blogs as well.  You are beautiful and wonderful and unique.  Celebrate that. 

Pin this.

Did you know that the typical lunch break in Italy is two hours?  This is to allow the workers to go home, eat and take a nap to reenergize.  In Japan, large companies have napping rooms for their employees.  In China the "xiu-xi" (nap time) is guaranteed by law.  The information on how good sleep is for you is plentiful.  So why is it Americans insist on running themselves into the ground with their daily routines? 

Guilty as charged!  I often bite off way more than I can chew.  I try to jam so much in this brief life and end up running myself into the ground.  I can't just be me.  I am always taking up a new hobby or trying a new lifestyle.  Scrapbooking.  Couponing.  Zumba.  Clean Eating.  Training for a 5k, for a 10k.  Coaching.  Working two jobs.  Remodeling the house.  I obsess and consume and live and breathe the current interest until I overheat and burn out.  If I had a therapist, I guarantee this personality trait would take several sessions to diagnose.  I blame my mother for ironing her curtains.  I mean who does that?  That is the surefire way to give your kids a complex of restlessness.

I tried for oh so long to avoid this "Pinterest" phenomenon I kept hearing about.  I'd see cute crafts and yummy looking recipes but I kept my blinders on and ignored.  I knew, I knew the minute I caved in I would be sucked into the vortex of do it yourself land. 

I got bored one day.  Very dangerous with someone like me.  It's uaually how my obsessions all begin.  Boredom, curiosity.  So I joined Pinterest.  I've managed to not become an addict........damn, is that they awkward pause where we all remember that denial is the first sign of a problem?

Blows. My. Mind.  Some of the ideas that people have on there are just brain numbing.  The simpleness that has never occurred to me, right in front of me, begging to be pinned to one of my boards.  I am a pinning whore.  I don't discriminate either.  Do It Yourself projects, recipes, hair and beauty tips, quotes that inspire, exercises to try, places I want to travel....I do them all.

It really has revolutionized my life.  My house is so much more organized than before.  I am the mother bringing the cute snacks to events.  I have gone from wanting to buy a new house to starting the love the one we live in.  I make yummy recipes.  Thank you Pinterest for helping me appear to be Supermom. 

If you haven't joined, you should.  No, you shouldn't.  Yes you should.  No, it's addicting.  Yes, it's amazing.  No, it's time consuming.  Yes, it's better than sex.  Well sex in your twenties, when you had a good body and didn't collapse into bed, exhausted and wanting to just roll over and look at Pinterest on your Kindle.  These voices in my head can stop arguing now.

I have been so wrapped up in Pinterest that I just haven't had time to blog.  Well that and remodeling the house.  Well that and coaching 17 girls ages 5,6 and 7 in cheerleading.  But coaching is only a few more weeks.  And then my seasonal second job begins. : )