I got lost on the way to Happily Ever After...

Should anything ever happen to my husband I would never remarry.  Now for you hopeless romantics clutching your hearts with a tear in your eye, spoiler alert this blog is not about forever lasting true love.  So you might want to stop reading now, because this is where the fairy tale becomes reality.

I would not remarry as I do not believe in ever lasting love between two humans.  I do not think our species was meant to form a bond with one other for 60+ years.  We are not a monogamous species.  Very few species are actually.  Black vultures show monogamous tendencies, but that may have something to do with the fact that when one of the flock starts showing in another member of the flock who may not be his lady, the others gang up on him and beat the crap out of him.  Just yet another example of society forcing monogamy against instinct. 

I think people get wrapped up in lust...have similar interests...enjoys each other's company.  They get married...love is grand...life is magical.  Then pregnancy...stretch marks...morning sickness...expanding bellies (and I am not just talking about Mama's).  Dad watches 7 pounds of flesh shoot out of his wife's gaping vagina.  Suddenly Mom is covered with baby vomit and Dad is working a double to pay for dance lessons and real estate taxes are due and everyone is exhausted.  Dad still wants to go out hunting and play poker with the guys while Mom just wants to be able to pee without anyone watching her.  At this point it is parenting and finances that holds a marriage together, not love. 

Don't get me wrong...my husband is an AMAZING guy.  He works hard for his family but we are most definitely at the point in our lives where when the other walks out the door we breathe a sigh of relief for some alone time.  I no longer miss him the minute the door closes.  That was lust.  Sweet, sweet lust. 

My best friend is a single lady who just went out on her first date since her seperation.  I get excited for her but at the same time, I wonder why.  We should celebrate independence and the ability to support ourselves.  She has no one to answer to, no one to disappoint her.  She really has herself in a wonderful position in life, one that should be celebrated.  I am quite envious of her at times and admire her strength. 

Humans, by nature, are polygamous.  I think you would be hard pressed to find evidence to suggest otherwise.  And I am not talking like Sister Wives but talking about the satisfaction of having one mate and one mate only for life.  This idea has been forced upon us by religion, by society but never by nature.  There is several types of monogamy...social, sexual, genetic and marital.  Very few humans would pass the true test of being a monogamous creature.  Can you think of anyone who has had only one sexual partner, lived with only one person, reproduced with only one person and married that same person?  Unless you pass all those tests, then you are not a monogamous creature. 

Even before you start thinking my husband and I are part of Swingers R Us or that we are unfaithful to each other, please know neither is true.  Some couples are capable of fighting off temptations of nature and making the long haul together.  This does not mean that they are monogamous, it means they fought instinct.

The idea of love between two unrelated people is one I dismiss.  You can care for a person,  have respect for them and form a friendship with them but with time you work at it harder and harder.  I would gladly take a bullet for my children, but never for someone of the opposite sex.  Long term relationships are hard because they are unnatural to our genetic makeup.  I truly think the divorce rate has more to do with people less fighting their urges and society being more accepting of our natural instincts. 

Before you argue with me, and there will be those who can't swallow this spoonful of sugar, do me a favor.  Go to Newzjunky and read the Celebrations.  All those happy couples, grinning ear to ear, excited to start their happily ever after.  Now go and read the number of divorces filed in the current month.  The divorces far outweigh the marriages.  At one time all those divorcees believe in happily ever afters as well.  Also be prepared with hard evidence of monogamy in marriages.  Not religion based either, because to me that is society imposed, much like the black vulture situation. 

Our society is obsessed with cheating.  Just the other day I saw the front page of a popular newspaper had split the headline pic between a picture of the crazed guy who shot all those poor people in the movie theater in Colorado and a picture of Kristen Stewart who just cheated on Robert Pattinson.  Yes I can see how her affair ranks up there with the deaths of 14 innocent people.  Say the names Bill Clinton or Elliott Spitzer and the first thing you think of is their sexual escapades.  I roll my eyes at it.  Human nature people. 

However, should Brian ever succumb to his natural instincts of desiring multiple mates, I will not hesitate to evict him from our social monogamy.  And I will go on, solo...living my happily ever after!

TGIF!

Last Friday night Katy Perry danced on table tops, took too many shots and rounded out the night with a menage a trois.  This Friday night I spent the entire evening in a laundromat.  Way to make me feel like a loser, again, Katy Perry.  For real though, when did my weekends go from letting loose and getting crazy to a marathon of housework?  At what point, did this become acceptable?

So Operation Life Organization has been progressing.  It is a tremendous amount of work to organize chaos.  Let me give you a tad bit of background on the situation at hand.  My husband bought this house nearly twenty years ago for next to nothing.  It is an old (built in the 1800s) two story farmhouse.  We have four bedrooms, one bathroom, two living rooms, kitchen and hallway/foyer.  Plus two enclosed porches.  I am currently facing the dilemma of dumping money into this old house and enjoying a mortgage free life or taking the plunge and buying new.  My parents have offered us land to put a double wide on, with all the hookups needed.  Mortgage for new home or no mortgage with old home? 

Even if we decide to go for a double wide, we are a year away from making that decision.  So for now, I have to get this house whipped into shape so that I can have company over without cringing.  Not to mention I have noticed a direct correlation between how my house looks with how I feel internally.  A messy, unorganized home usually means a mess emotionally.  I have to get my life under control.  Ta-da...Operation Life Organization!

So nine rooms, two porches and a very limited schedule and budget to work with.  I am proud to say one room is 100% complete...Madison's room.  I am working on getting the other rooms all cleaned up so that I can start overhauling each room.  It feels like I have a million projects going on all at once.  I am sooo looking forward to winter when life slows down a bit and I have a chance to breathe and dedicate to just the house.  Right now I probably have 3 pickup truck loads of stuff to take to the Impossible Dream thrift store just cluttering the house in piles waiting to go.  Luckily the husband is taking them tomorrow. 

I gave my beloved a task today.  See, he is a bit of a Hoarder himself.  Really likes to hang on to stuff.  I told him when he got home from work today he had to clean our room out.  I told him he was only allowed to keep ten old tshirts.  That's it.  No more than ten.  I also told him I expected at least 3 of the 33 gallon trash bags of clothes to be taken out of our room to donate to the thrift shop.  We ended up with probably 7 or 8 garbage bags of clothing coming out of our room and I ended up using ELEVEN machines at the laundromat, including several of the triple loaders.  I did up the blankets and all the clothes that were in heaps on the floor of our bedroom.  It took several hours, over $50.00 in quarters and two bottles of laundry detergent but all of our clothes are clean, folded and put away in dresser drawers or hanging in our closet.  The room is actually clean and not a tornado of clothes.  I highly suggest for anyone facing overwhelming  amounts of laundry to bite the bullet and go to the laundromat and just get it done at once. 

While there, I did notice the scene is a bit like Cheers.  As you walk in, everyone knows your name.  The "regulars" were all greeting each other and talking about their weeks.  I felt like such an intruder.  Luckily at the end of the night my best friend stopped by.  You know a person is your best friend when they come to keep you company at the laundromat and help fold.  She had just gone on a date and just wanted to chat.  I don't miss dating.  Helping her prepare was stressful enough.  I mean what do you wear, where do you go, what do you do, what topics should you avoid?  When you first see each other how do you greet each other?  Do you hug, kiss, shake hands, curtsey?  Who pays and how do you bring up that subject?  You try to be yourself but everyone is very guarded around people they aren't quite comfortable around yet.  Do you let them think you are a gasless human or do you rip one off like you would at home?  She had decided beforehand that the subjects of farting, burping, her list of medications and any unusual body smells should be taboo on the first date.  I agreed, however at some point the truth will prevail on all those subjects. 

Truth be told is you get to know the real me through my blogs and Facebook.  The way I feel, think, am comes out in my writing.   Yet, if we were to get together in public for 99% of my readers I would be guarded, maybe quiet and shy.  Why is that the case?  Why don't we present oursevles as we are 100% of the time?  Why don't we rip farts in front of each other as it is just a bodily function and we all do it at some time or other?  Wouldn't it be easier to get to know one another without the games and being on your best behavior?  If anything ever happened to my husband, I don't believe I would remarry.  I think I would move in with my best friend, assuming she is still single and be satisfied with companionship instead of a relationship.  Why not?  We are both already aware of the farting and burping habits of each other, know the medications the other is on & are aware of any unusual body smells the other may encounter.  It's our Golden Girls retirement plan.

So Katy Perry can have her menage a trois because I have a best friend who I can be myself around 100% of the time.  Who spends her Friday night with me in the laundromat folding clothes.  Who would rather help me with my life organization than go out drinking.  I am so thankful for her in my life and also TGIF!

Keeping abreast on issues in society...

Breasts.  Boobs.  Tatas.  Melons.  Racks.  Bosom.  Boobies.  Tits.  Jugs.  Knockers.  Titties.  Fun bags.  So many names for a part of the female anatomy.  When looking up the word breast it is defined as, "Either of the two soft, protruding organs on the upper front of a woman's body that secrete milk after pregnancy."  Men, with a definition like that how have these become a object of sex? 

We use our hands and mouth during sex but yet no one freaks out when you bare them.  In fact every part of our bodies are active during sex...legs, arms, neck, back....and yet we can bare them without repercussion.  These two mounds on our chest simply store fat and produce milk, yet American society connects them with sex.  I am not quite sure why...with age those fun bags become sand bags.  Seriously...it's like taking a cue ball and putting it in a tube sock.  The fun bags have officially deflated.  They are the twins alright...Flopsy and Mopsy. 

With my first child, I had to decide whether to breastfeed or bottle feed.  I chose to breast feed and faced both positive and negative opinions on the matter.  Some of my fondest moments stem from rocking my little sweet bundles of joy as they suckled and looking into their eyes when suddenly they would pause and crack a big grin while wrapping their little hand around my finger.  I could go on and on about the known benefits of breastfeeding, but I am sure all my readers are well aware of the benefits.  Truth be told, breastfeeding is a deeply personal choice and one only the mother can make.  A woman should never be frowned upon for the choice she makes in regards to feeding her child.

That being said, if the woman chooses to breastfeed she should not face opposition to how she chooses to breast feed her child.  If she is comfortable with breast feeding in public, then so be it.  It is not her fault that those that surround her are insecure with the human anatomy.  In 47 states a woman is in her legal right to breast feed in public.  In fact in some countries, such as Taiwan, a person can be fined for interfering with a breastfeeding woman.  Go Taiwan!  I can't believe the uproar breastfeeding in public causes when we have restaurants such as Hooters and Tilted Kilt and establishments called strip clubs and yet no one is protesting them!  Go ahead and try to find a pair of shorts that are not cut directly under the crotch line or find a decent one piece bathing suit.  I can't believe the prices that manufacturers charge for strings of fabric that they pass off as bathing suits! 

Take your family to the beach and you will see more nudity on a woman than you do with a breastfeeding mother.  Hell, take your family to the mall and they will see more nudity with the people walking the mall.  The nipple is completely covered by the baby's mouth and so even if they nipple is revealed while accessing the breast for a feeding, it is for a very brief moment.  For those who oppose, try this on...DON'T LOOK!!

I went to a cookout for a friend who now lives out of state and was up visiting.  It would be the first time I met her beautiful daughter.  I walked up to peek at the baby and noticed my friend was nursing...yes uncovered.  The way the baby was held, I couldn't even tell she was nursing until I got up close.  I apologized and she was so non chalant about it, telling me if I was okay with it, so was she, it didn't bother her.  I never had so much respect for her as I did in that moment.  It was such a natural, nurturing moment.  We were at a cookout with lots of people, several of them male (and even soldiers at that) and not one person acted as if it bothered them.  I didn't see staring or drooling or jaws hanging open.  I saw people having fun and in a very accepting atmosphere.  That is how it should be. 

I made a point in mentioning that there was soldiers around based on the Facebook post that got me inspired to write this blog.  An observation was made in a Federal Building (illegal to prohibit public breastfeeding in any Federal building) that a woman was there with a crying baby.  To soothe the baby, she started breastfeeding in a room that included soldiers.  Gasp.  How dare she!  How dare she respond to her child's needs instead of neglect them until she find a germ filled bathroom!  How dare she not use a blanket to cover up her child, blocking their air flow and creating a little heat tent with the blanket that covered two sources of body heat.  Anyways, this observer was disgusted and several people chimed in to agree with her.  Included one absolute moron who made this comment and I quote, "If there was soldiers around and that person wiped it outm she was fishing. SHe was hoping a soldier would wanna share cause there are only a couple things on our mind at that point, get done clearing cause that proccess sucks and makes on...e wanna kick little kittens and stab babbys (especially if they are on a nice boobie and the baby is so lookin over the boob sayin ooooh ya im the man! look at me and you soo wanna be me) drink a very large beer and see something nakid. Its not "sexualized" its human nature. Even in africa the men still check out the danglies. Have a great day yall, I couldnt resist to comment on this too funney."  Sigh.  Obviously he was never breastfed. 

First of all, what does it matter that there was soldiers around?  You are stereotyping that all soldiers are horny and immature that they can't handle seeing a breastfeeding in progress.  I am sure there are many men who fit that stereotype, soldier or civilian, just as there are many soldiers who are accepting of a breastfeeding baby not being a sign of a woman fishing.  As a new mother with a young child I can almost guarantee you that sex is probably the last thing on that woman's mind. Would you find it as shocking to see a woman handing her child a Pepsi, filled with all sorts of toxic ingredients?  How about fruit snacks with Red 40 dye in them?  Would you be as concerned then as you are by seeing a mother feed her child all natural milk? 

All the cases of child abuse out there and no one does anything about it.  You probably know someone who you suspect is a child abuse victim and do you pick up a telephone to report it?  No, but you will gladly bash someone who is placing her child's needs over society's opinions.  Someone who is responding and tending to her child's needs. 

In that case, I would also hope those who are disgusted by public breastfeeding abstain from watching any movies with any nudity.  While you are at it, maybe you should cover your eyes when you get undressed so you don't have to look at your own breasts. 

Maybe if after she got done breastfeeding she left her breast dangling out of her shirt I would see your point of fishing for a man or attention.  Maybe if she squirted you in the eye with some of her breastmilk I could understand how upset you got over the situation.  Maybe if the kid was breastfeeding while in line to take his test to get his driving permit I could see how some might find it disgusting. 

I am someone who has been "blessed" with larger breasts.  The word in quotations is meant to be extremely sarcastic.  I have lost 60 pounds and my bra size has not budged.  I would love nothing more than to have Flopsy and Mopsy lopped right off.  Less chance of developing cancer.  Easier running without two sand bags strapped to my chest.  I mean it would be nice to sleep on my back without worry of them falling in my face and smothering me during the night.  Suck on those thoughts the next time you connects breasts to sex...

What the truck?

I was pumping gas this morning and couldn't help notice this big, jacked up, muddied truck with an overly loud exhaust peeling out of the parking lot.  It wasn't pheromones emitting from the lift kit in the truck that was attracting my attention..more like it was the cloud of fumes blowing out the exhaust pipe that left me choking as my ears wept from the sound of the tires peeling out.  Why, oh, why do men think that jacked up, loud trucks are awesome?  I think they are beyond ridiculous.  I don't look at that truck as a sexy beast but more like a fuel sucking, toxic fume breathing beast.  Peeling out makes you look like a moron, by the way.  The only people who think that is cool probably still live with their parents.  You should not require a step ladder to get in your vehicle.

I feel the same way about pimped out, low riding cars.  Sure, I loved the movies Fast and Furious and Gone in 60 Seconds.  Great movies.  However, this is Watertown, NY.  There is nothing great about drag racing down Arsenal Street past Taco Bell and KFC.  Meeting in the parking lot of Big Lots to compare engines.  That's hot.  Especially when you blast your music so loud that the bass shakes the sheets of tint off your windows. 

Now, 98% of these vehicle owners are men.  I prefer my men like my cars, decent in appearance but not too flashy, reliable, dependable with endurance. I think you can tell a lot about a person by the vehicle they drive.  I can't help wonder if the men who drive jacked up trucks or pimped out cars are trying to overcompensate for an area of lacking.  They need the loud bass to attract attention they are otherwise unable to get?  The need a car with flash to make up for what sits behind the dash?  Perhaps the lift kit is to compensate for something else that may need a few inches of expansion?   A little too Fast, making women too Furious?  No woman wants a man that is Gone in 60 Seconds!

Just my two cents....but hey, it could be the confusion from all those toxic fumes I was breathing in this morning...

The Story of Birth

Two days and no blog...I have already been scolded by someone who reads my blogs with her morning coffee.  It has been a CRAZY busy weekend!  My baby girl turns 5 tomorrow!  I spent all day Saturday organizing & redecorating her bedroom as part of her birthday present.  It turned out gorgeous!  Plus I painted a wall with chalkboard paint so now she can draw on the walls all she wants!

Yesterday we had her birthday party at the zoo!  Whew, birthday parties are so much work!  They pretty much determine your social status...the pressure!  First of all, the location sets the atmosphere.  You have to figure out an activity that will keep the kids entertained for two hours.  No one wants to be known as the parent of the kid with the lame birthday party!  Her love of animals made this an easy choice- the zoo!  Next is the invitations....the decorations...the food & drink.  Oh and the goody bags.  Oh, the goody bags...probably the biggest source of pressure in determining birthday party success.  The stores have aisles lined with cheesy, cheap goody bag fillers and as parents it is our duty to comb thru the cheesiness and find the treasures!  This takes imagination, creativity and a deep wallet. 

Luckily, Madison's summer birthday happens to fall within back to school sales.  Not lucky enough to be close enough to the start of school to score 10 cent boxes of crayons but I did score Crayola crayon boxes for 50 cents each and notepads for 22 cents each.  Plus I found these cool monkey themed goody bags with hats and noise makers.  I had to throw in some kind of food item but was really hesitant to load the kids up with sugar.  Sure, that would guarantee me a spot as the cool Mom with the kids, but the Moms would all be shooting me mental daggers.  So I went with the all natural, no artificial coloring fruit snacks.  I figured that was a good compromise!  So much fun, but so glad it is over! 

Despite the brand new remodeled room, Madison still got in bed with me last night.  I asked her if she wanted to hear about the day of her birth.  She said yes, so I pulled her close and wrapped my arms around her.  I told her of how I lay in bed the night before my scheduled c-section and rubbed my belly.  I was so excited to meet her, to hold her.  I wondered what she would look like, what she would be like, who she would become.  I told her about all the people who came to the hospital early in the morning to wait for her to debut.  I explained about the doctors going in and bringing her out and how her cries were the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.  I told her how I had to be in recovery until I regained feeling back in my legs and could wiggle my toes and how hard I worked to wiggle my toes because I so badly wanted to be with her.  I told her how much we had wanted a baby and how happy we were to be her parents.  She listened to everything I had to say and in the end she said, "Mommy?"  I smiled and said, "Yes, baby girl?"  She looked at me with her sweet blue eyes and in the sweetest little voice she said, "Did you brush your teeth today?"

Simply Simplified

Simplify.  Seems like such a simple task.  Sounds easy, rewarding.  Clean, organize, reduce.  I just want to rip my hair out at this point.  Bulldoze the house and all the material things in it and start fresh.  That would be truly simplifying. 

Where did all this STUFF come from?  My house should be condemned right now.  It's very overwhelming.  I need to watch a few episodes of Hoarders to make myself feel better.  I just want to do so much, all at once.  I feel bad just throwing stuff out because I know there are people out there with very little but at the same time, I lack the time to find a needy family and get it to them.  I don't want it but I think it is wasteful to just dispose of it.  Holy cow, instead of watching Hoarders maybe I should be on Hoarders.

Why do we feel the need to accumulate so much material belongings?  We all strive for nicer, bigger, better, newer...  Until one day we are drowning in STUFF and so we decide to simplify.  Just get rid of the stuff.  In a eight room house with two enclosed porches that is ALOT of stuff.  I have so much I want to do, I need a week off because of course I try to do it all at once.  I get an idea in my head and I obsess about it until it's done but usually that ideas branches off into twenty new ideas....

In some countries this is called bi-polar disorder.

With Madison's birthday rapidly approaching, we had decided to split the girls up into their own rooms and remodel the rooms for their birthdays.  Not really increasing the amount of material gifts, but rather improving on what they already have.  So we get Paige all moved into her new bedroom and tonight I headed up to organize and clean Madison's room.  She will be spending tomorrow night with my parents as I remodel her room to surprise her with a new jungle themed room as she loves animals.

I am about half way through during my kind of cleaning.  Three garbage bags of junk removed.  One garbage bag full of giveaway, which has now been transported into a downstairs room for me to deal with later (HOARDER ALERT).  In the garbage bags are nine headless Barbies, six Barbie heads (three are still unaccounted for), a half rotted lemon that she had stuck in one of her purses ( I knew I had bought another lemon, I am not losing it!), about a dozen toys that I had previously thrown out and she must have gone through the trash to retrieve (Hoarder, jr), about two dozen stuffed animals that I had to sneak in on the sly to avoid a mental meltdown and several pieces of artwork that I struggled over.  You want to save all your kids artwork and school work but the truth is it is unreasonable to save it all.  That is called a pack rat.  So I try to pick out a few pieces that I really like and throw the rest out when she isn't looking.  I shudder at the memory of the time she discovered I had tossed out some of her masterpieces.  She threw herself down on the floor next to the trashcan, sobbing about how I don't like her artwork that she worked so hard on.  Mother. of. the. Year. 

We had several "disagreements" while I was up cleaning her room.  She, of course, sat on the bed watching a movie while I worked feverishly.  She even hushed me at one point because apparently I was cleaning too loud and it disrupted her movie watching.  I had discovered a drawing on her wall, which I told her she was not allowed to draw on the walls.  She replied it was her room and she
 could decorate it how she liked.  Wrong.  I bought several containers to separate toys into in an attempt to organize the room.  She tried to tell me they were her toys and she would put them where she wanted.  Wrong. 

I finally called it a night and will finish it up tomorrow when she goes to my parents for the night. 

I should have just got her that hamster.

Janet who?

Last night I went for a nice, relaxing jog at dusk.  By the time I got back from my 3 mile trek it was dark out.  I decided to take a dip in the pool to cool down.  Both of my swimsuits were on the line drying so I said, hey it's dark...I will just go in my sports bra and underwear.  When will I ever learn?

So first of all I grabbed a towel and walked out back in just my underwear, sports bra and tshirt.  I heard commotion next door and could see the outline of my neighbors in the dark so I ran back in the house. Like that didn't already draw attention.  I told myself I was being silly.  I mean underwear covers the same areas that a bathing suit bottom does.  Plus it was pretty dark.  So I wrapped the towel around me and snuck outdoors.  I quietly climbed the ladder and as I slipped in the pool I pulled off my tshirt and threw it to the ground. 

It was so nice.  The cool water swallowing my body in the middle of a velvety black night.  So relaxing.  Relaxing until my husband came out the back door to find out where I was.  He flipped on the back porch light, which I was okay with.  For some reason he has a flood light on our back porch.  He turned that on and of course it shines right into the pool.  Holy crap, Brian, where the hell did you buy that thing?  Helicopter Search & Rescue Supplies R Us? 

In the midst of trying to recover from temporary blindness, I didn't notice he had went back inside the house and left the freakin flood light on.  So here I am in the pool, in only my sports bra and underwear, with the neighbors outside next door.  WITH A FREAKING SPOTLIGHT ON ME.  Trapped.  I attempted taking a few of Madison's Littlest Pet Shop figurines floating in the pool and throwing them at Paige's window to try to get her attention.  I suck at pitching.  Finally I just had to swallow my pride, quickly exit the pool and run for the saftey of the house.  Lesson learned?  There is no such thing as relaxing when you are a wife/mother...

Move over, Janet Jackson, I have earned the right to Queen of Wardrobe Malfunctions.  LIke the one day that I was rocking black gaucho capris at work.  It was about 2 or 3pm in the afternoon when I felt the urge to pee.  So I went to the bathroom, had a seat and started my business.  I happened to glance down at the crotch of my pants...or perhaps I should say the lack of the crotch of my pants.  A HUGE HOLE...the entire crotch missing.  All day long.  It was probably a hole the size of a watermelon.  I wanted the toilet to swallow me right then and there.  They had been on the floor of my bedroom and I had been in a hurry so threw them on that morning.  My dog must have chewed the crotch out while they were on the floor!  I was laughing so hard when I came out of the bathroom I was sobbing.  Lesson learned?  Never get dressed in the dark, especially with clothes off the floor...

Or the time I had just woke up and was on a cleaning frenzy.  I had just thrown on a shorter nightshirt, no bra, no underwear and was a cleaning machine.  I bent over to pick up some of Madison's toys when I heard a knock at the door (a guy Brian knows).  Does anyone want to guess what was facing the door?  Lesson learned?  Never let the full moon rise in the direction of a door or window....