Boot Camp

I have the family in "Extreme Lifestyle Makeover" mode. Don't laugh, if that isn't already a show, it will be one soon....right after the demise of fame monger Kate and her gazillion kids  or the Bachelor, Season 88.

Unfortunately, I have unusual eating habits. I love all vegetables, but I just like interesting combos. Pretzels and frosting are nice together and  I like to think Skittles and Starbursts are fruit. They are colorful and flavorful so they must be full of antioxidants, right? Ha! Oh and I eat standing up or pacing-like a wolf, only with shorter legs. So, I realized I had to set a better example for my kids. More walks, hula hooping, dancing, soccer, and less food for the dog, Atticus. Atticus has totally let himself go, but he can blame the baby. Well, in the spirit of being candid, I needed to step it up a notch. I am typically a zumba/hip hop cardio kind of girl, but I decided I should sign up for boot camp. I mean really! How hard can it be?


When I go to register for boot camp, the lady behind the desk says, "Oh baby. I don't envy the people signing up for boot camp." I haven't confused this with the sign up for the military have I? If so, this would be a bad idea.  I do love that movie, "A Few Good Men", but I didn't see Lt Caffey or Col Markinson, so I felt certain I was in the right place."Really?" I ask. "What is so horrible about the boot camp?' She said, "Baby, I see them at the top of that hill  (shaking head). Lord, I just want to cry. It looks awful and the people throw up." Was this the sales pitch? Tears and vomit? I was waiting for her to tell me people yell that they want their mommy 10 minutes into the workout. Was this the truth, or did she think I couldn't handle the truth? What about a better booty and a stronger core? Or arms like Jessica Biel? Well, we can all dream. She certainly had not attended those Zig Ziglar or Tony Robbins seminars because they usually encourage you to up sell. I said, "Oh it will be fun and good for me." Perhaps that was an embellishment because at that moment I was thinking a trip to DQ would be fun, and laughing so hard I cry is good for me. More than 4 hours of sleep will be good for me. No, I am going to do this and enjoy it. Yes, I am....

What I say and what my kids hear

My children ignore most of what I say. When I say "Don't leave your socks on the floor", I am met with a subtle eye roll and an exasperated sigh. So, here is what I say and what they think.

I say, "Go brush your teeth." They hear "mwak mwak mwwak mwak". Yes, they think I am Mrs. Blockhead.

I say, "Let's do your homework." They think, "Great. The next thing she will want me to do is wipe the dirt off my face and tell me I have to take a bath because my hands are sticky. Why doesn't she just dress me up in a suit, make me comb my hair  and  play the quiet game for an hour? Geez"

I say , "You  have milk around your mouth. Why don't you get a cloth so we can wash it off?" They think "Whatevs. That is what your tongue is for,duh!"

I say, "Stop arguing with each other." They think, "She always takes up for X. Didn't she see him/her playing with that toy I haven't played with in 6 months? Actually, I didn't know where it was, but it was mine and I don't want someone else having fun."

I say, "You need to settle down." They think, "What a downer this woman is!  If we keep jumping off the bed, one of is bound to get injured so we can go to the emergency room. Thus, we can stay up later AND have a Popsicle. Winner, winner, turkey dinner!"

The previous line is followed by, "It's time to go to bed." They begin laughing hysterically and then think, " Loser! This is a great time for us to argue with each other. Let's wear her down and make her think she is on the verge of a nervous breakdown. That way, she will succumb and say she is close to putting a hot poker in her eye, but then will  let us watch one more episode of Phineas and Ferb. SCORE!"

I say, " Life seemed  boring before I had kids." They think, 'Your life WAS boring before you had us. Aren't we funny?"

Confession and Obsessions

I will open this with a confession. I have called in sick to work once in my life. I have been to work with the chicken pox (until they sent me home), first signs of blood poisoning, the day after 4 wisdom teeth were removed, and was actually on a conference call while in labor with my oldest son. Now I didn't take a trip to Canada when I had the stomach flu, but I still worked. So when did I skip out on work? The one time I called in sick was many years ago right after college. I was playing Scattergories and drinking some very cheap wine. How cheap was it? It came in a box. I was certain someone had inserted a power drill in my temples.  What does this all  mean? I'm a golden retriever. I'm reliable.

Every once in a while I become  mildly obsessed with something. Several years ago when Ed Norton was dating Courtney Love, I was positive he was going to launch her for me. I mean, hello, I was witty and intelligent. And I didn't wear eyeliner so I didn't have big smudges under my eyes. I would have been willing to go platinum blond for him. I sing some really solid Hole songs when I am in the shower. However, when Ed moved on to Salma, I knew it wasn't meant to be.

Then, there was the quest for the poncho in  2004. I was obsessed with getting the "right" poncho after I had my daughter.  I'm all about the sale so I searched thrift shops, ebay, and stores, but alas no poncho. I was consumed by this freaking poncho. Would I finally buckle and pay some decent bucks for the much desired poncho? I finally found a "poncho maker to the stars" and I figured if it was good enough for SJP, then it was good for me. The poncho arrived but it wasn't quite what I needed. Finally, I found a lady living in a remote area of Canada who made ponchos. The woman was surrounded by emus and moose, so I felt she understood what I was looking for in a poncho.  It was perfect, until I saw the one Martha Stewart allegedly made in prison. Was that where I had gone wrong? Should I have been sending letters to penitentiaries trolling for poncho makers? Somehow, this felt wrong so I moved on to the....

Knee boot of 2005. I envisioned this gorgeous (steeply discounted in price I might add) to the knee boot, but I am calf challenged, meaning they are freakishly ginormous.  I even asked if there was calf reduction surgery. Not that I would have done it, but I felt like I was in the minority as I saw people blissfully zipping up their boots while  I was investigating  if they made industrial strength Spanx for calves. They didn't, but I did find 'stretchy" boots.  Happiness at last. Well, until the next obsession...

The cape quest of 2009-2011. I want a cape. No, no like Batman, but a cape that should make me feel  like I am horseback riding in the English Countryside after a cup of Earl Grey tea. I am flexible on the color, but black, brown or a subdued print is sufficient. But where is this freaking cape?? It isn't on ebay or at Goodwill..at least not when I looked. However, imagine my delight when a certain magazine arrived with a picture of said dream cape at a price I can love. Will this one be the cape? Will it make me feel like Kate on the way to the UK version of Whole Foods?( Except 6 inches shorter and minus the royal title.) Will they have it or is this one of those items that is perpetually out of stock? Please no! The cape has been an ongoing saga so time will tell...

When I was your age and something you didn't know about me

That was a phrase I thought should be outlawed. Really..it sounds so all knowing and yet I have heard myself utter those very words to my own children and to the 18 yr old who used to help with the kids a few hours a day. Did I sound like the ultimate loser when I say that? A prehistoric creature? I felt like the next phrase after "when I was your age", was going to involve walking 8 miles through snow with no shoes even though I grew up in south GA. But let's evaluate situations when this phrase was uttered.

Let's call the babysitter Lena. Lena was like most 18 year old senior's in high school. Sweet, funny, and gave off the sense of entitlement vibe. Each time Lena came over, she had a new tattoo. Fairies behind her ears, ribbons on her feet, angels across her shoulder..you get the picture. Yet, she wondered why she had no money. One day she was discussing getting a tattoo of her boyfriend's face on her stomach. I couldn't resist saying, "Lena, when I was your age I was a sophomore in college and had 2 jobs." Didn't I sound like the ultimate stick in the mud? I continued, "The problem with getting someone's face tattooed on your stomach is that people change. What if your boyfriend grows a beard? Shaves his head? Gains 40 pounds? Will you take a sharpie and draw in a goatee or a beer gut?" I didn't even mention (gulp) the possibility that they could break up.  Would she keep altering the tattoo for the boyfriend du jour? That could get rather costly. She is either a thrill seeker or a glutton for punishment because she now works at an establishment with short shiny orange shorts and  tried to tell me she had never tasted alcohol even though she was attending bar tending school.  I did laugh at her and say, "Rrrrright." Didn't she realize that I know a hangover when I see one? I may be , ahem , older but I'm not an idiot! Her FB profile pic is her in a bra and a plaid skirt...I never even addressed that those photos you post with no security settings can follow you around for years to come..I know, I'm no fun.

Oh and I am going to share something that most of you don't have the privilege of knowing. I have night terrors. Yes, that's right. In the middle of the night I may pick something up and throw it across the room while emitting a blood curdling scream. It's something no one ever really gets used to except for the dog. While everyone else in the house starts screaming and crying at the trauma of being awakened from a dead sleep, the dog doesn't move. I'm just keeping everyone on their toes.


This was a boring post , eh? Better stuff coming....

Winning and who is this Sock Goblin?

There are 3 things you can say that make my day. 1) "You made me laugh so hard I cried". 2) "You won." and 3. "Posh who?? You are my dream woman!" For the record, number 3 has to be said by a specific person and the soccer ball is not a necessity. Number 1 is my favorite, but you have to get to know me.

This blog will be a hodgepodge of garbage of the week. For example, as I have stated before, I never had boobs until I had my last baby. I'm not a fan of them and I secretly hope they go back to their former size. Is there a boobie fairy? If so I am willing to leave them under my pillow for her to give to someone else. You know, pay it forward. She doesn't even have to leave me a dollar. However, since I am not one to give up, I thought I would try on one of my adorable dresses and hope that I can zip it up at the chest. Nope. Not happening. This dress was tight. So tight I felt a lung in my throat. If I attempted to wear said dress in public, it goes without saying that I  would need a defibrillator in a few minutes.  Not only could I not zip it over my chest but it got stuck around my chest. Thankfully my husband is a foot taller and he was able to  stand on the couch to help me get the dress over my head, because I would have been ashamed to call 911 and say, "Hey. I'm in a giant hurry on my way to a meeting but I have a dress stuck around my chest and it is so tight I think I fractured a rib. It's cute and I am NOT cutting the dress.  Can you send an ambulance and oxygen?" Rrrrright...I quickly changed into something less "structured" and raced out the door...However, that set the tone for the day.

Later that  night I was folding laundry. This is one thing I wish the dog would do for me, but he is only interested in setting off the alarm and housework isn't his thing. I pulled out 47 socks. How many had a match? 20? 24? Try 5. I had that song "One is the Loneliest Number" going through my head. Where were the other 42? On a date?  No, the other 42 actually listed themselves on match.com and eharmony because I have no idea where the ideal mates are. Who takes these socks? Is there a sock goblin? I can assure you it is male and is probably a distant relative of Big Foot. How do you address this issue? If they were similar I decided to stick them together anyway, so I ended with 5 real pairs, and 7 or 8 pairs of something vaguely similar, meaning a white sock with a red stripe is perfectly acceptable with a white sock with a pink stripe.  Dependent upon the lighting in the room, it could work.

And today, I ran into the grocery store today to admittedly get a necessity to make margaritas. My 6 yr old daughter sees the front of a magazine and says, "Look. There's Amy Winehouse. She's already dead. I saw this on the news and I remember when she was a tiny seedling." Huh? At least she didn't give me an analysis of Charlie Sheen and the goddesses or Hef and Crystal.  Interesting that she can't remember to pick up her toys, but was aware of pop culture. This must be genetic because I remember all the words to "Parents Just Don't Understand" but someone's name continues to escape me. It reminded me of the day when she asked if Michael Jackson was president after George Washington. Then I had to explain that his label was the "King of Pop" and he wasn't actually president. When I saw her face, I realized she wasn't really interested in what I had to say. I'm sure that won't be a first but I will show her who's bad!
Finally, I have to give props to peeps who read and tweet about my blog. You know who you are! I know, I know..I'm not the best at updating but it's been crazy. I love the feedback and in the words of the great LL Cool J, "I would lay down my jacket so you can walk over a puddle."