I envisioned my Facebook feed this morning would be full of parents complaining about the local school district not closing due to a bout of freezing rain overnight. I rolled my eyes thinking….if they cancelled school in Iowa each time we got winter precipitation the kids would rarely go in winter months. Personally between school breaks and sick kids that is enough to put a target on my back at work having to miss work so often. So I was elated when our district did not scroll across the screen and dutifully went about my morning routine. I noticed our driveway was slick and so was our side road but I was careful in navigating the hazards. After all my entire life has been spent in Iowa or Colorado so I know winter weather. I dropped the baby off at daycare and spied another parent who had crashed in to landscaped area. Going no more than 7 miles an hour I approached the intersection that connects the school to a very well traveled road. I applied my brakes further back than I normally do and I immediately felt my brakes kicking back. I applied firm pressure because that is what Drivers’ Ed told me…or did they? Do I have anti-lock brakes? Two lanes of traffic were heading straight towards me. I didn’t know what else to do…I cried out ‘STOP!’ in the most uncontrolled fashion and quickly yanked the wheel to the left. I came to a stop; sideways….mere inches from the steady flow of cars. Once I regained my composure I turned on to a neighboring street and stopped my car. My foot hurt, my back was full of tension and I was out of breath. But I was there…alive…unharmed. Dramatic? I don’t know…but it was scary as hell. It definitely made me think about all my actions the past week with Hubs and the children. In an instant….it can all change. Maybe a bit deep for this early in the morning and I am not exactly the most religious person but something…someone…even if just my inner strength was certainly guiding me through.

Today I will not stress eat.
Today I will not stress eat.
Today I will not stress eat.

I was just about on my fourth repeat when I glanced at my cell phone, which I had just removed from my purse upon entering work. Two missed calls. One from Hubs….the other from daycare. Crap…crap! As if we weren’t skating a thin sheet of ice already, Hubs and I, the stress of the impending who would leave work to care for a sick child fight suckerpunched me in the gut. And just like each time before it lived up to all the four letter word laced times before. And just like each time before, the baby wasn’t really sick….just a case of too much liquid/food/baby phlegm-it is caused him to expel his stomach contents. But instead of calmly assessing our employment needs for the day we went all Braveheart battle scene on each other. Oy, oy….this parenting stuff is hard. Keeping the kids happy, the spouses, the extended family, the bosses….and somehow remember to keep ourselves happy by not using a crutch that at the time gives us a reasonable accommodation….but in reality it just causes more problems. So, at least for this moment, I am choosing not to stress eat. I am, however, taking out all my December frustrations on this piece of peppermint gum. Poor gum.

As I stared at my afternoon snack, a grapefruit, a local florist van pulled up outside my window and I felt my heart rise to my throat. Hubs and I have been skating a rough patch lately a la kids, holiday spending, weather woes and I just knew these were for me. I prepared myself for the front door to ‘ding!’ and when it did I slowly rose to my feet and strolled towards the lobby. A smile came to my face as I saw various colors of roses in a beautiful vase. The delivery gal turned to me and said “Flower delivery for (not me-insert female co-workers name here)”….and my heart quickly plummeted out my rear. Why not me!? The wife who diligently launders her husband’s clothing and unmentionables. The wife who purchased snow pants so he would not get soaked snow blowing this winter. The wife who tries to look her best so he can not only be proud of who I am on the inside…but the outside as well. But no. It was for her. The girlfriend who constantly informs me how fat he is, how his face is flared up with acne and brags about ‘being better than him’. She had received seven roses (seven is her favorite number) from her boyfriend and the card sympathized with her ‘bad morning’. I really should have been happy for her, I really should have been. So, instead of inserting my foot in my mouth…I quickly put my grapefruit aside and inserted a chocolate cookie. Hush, dear, that’ll take the sting away…..

Things to do:

*Buy Kit Kat Bar

Have I told you about the Christmas Kit Kat? Nine years ago Christmas was a somber time. I was a month in to mega-depression AKA Ex-husband leaves 2004 and what food was in the fridge when he left was slowly depleting. Five years a stay at home Mom, I was skill-less and job-less….I was money-less. I had saved some funds, exactly twenty dollars worth, to purchase presents from the dollar store. I knew this was going to be a rough year but had forgotten to save some money to purchase cookies / ingredients to bake cookies with. Daughter, a wide eyed toddler, asked on Christmas Eve if Santa would leave her presents since we did not have cookies and milk to offer him. On a side note, milk was liquid gold in our house with a growing toddler…the fat man was NOT going to get one ounce of that half gallon that was chilling in the fridge. I panicked and looked around for something, ANYTHING to leave him that wasn’t a can of refried beans or an egg. In the bottom of our apple cookie jar was a fun size Kit Kat. It was leftover from Halloween. That was it. So that night we put out the Kit Kat and a glass of tap water. I told her that Santa likes a variety. And you know what? It stuck. That two year old remembered for the past nine years that Santa likes Kit Kat bars…affectionately named Kitty Kat Bars in our house. So if nothing else, I must remember....BUY.KIT.KAT.BAR.

I walked through the dimly lit hallway and was ushered through a doorway to an office no bigger than my bathroom. To my right were an older metal desk, two chairs and a small tower of boxes containing what appeared to be files. To my left was a larger tower of boxes, also with what appeared to be files. She greeted me with a handshake and her warm brown eyes twinkled as she welcomed me “Hello Jennifer, I’m Linda.” I shakily greeted her back. I felt raw, exposed and alone before our meeting but something in her eyes told me this was to be a life changing event. Three weeks prior I had been watching a Lifetime movie and at the close of the movie, they spoke of RAINN. Three weeks prior I had been the SURVIVOR of a sexual assault. Following the incident I fell in to a deep depression. I had no friends, my parents had their own issues at the time and I was going through a divorce. I felt I had nothing to lose calling the number asking….where do I go from here? Through weeks of sessions I learned several things. I learned to be my own best friend. I began ‘dating’ myself. I would go and have dinner after my Wednesday sessions and listen to my own inner thoughts and guidance. I learned that I cannot change anyone’s actions, personality or opinions. I can only change how I react to them. But most of all I learned that I am strong. I can take any situation in life and turn it in to a positive outcome. She helped me find the best in myself then, and today the ones who helped me find the best in myself is YOU. Each of your kind words through comments and messaging filled me with hope, just as her brown eyes did for me years ago.

Thank you ALL.
“The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”
― Nelson Mandela

Recently my daughter has begun to grow disappointed with her father, my ex-husband. The years of broken promises, unsavory parental choices and not financially contributing has gone from unnoticed, to center stage. I get asked by friends and family if I regret my marriage to him. I reply that I do not. I THANK him. Yep, that’s right I thank him…privately of course…daily. I thank him for contributing his DNA to the beautiful, intelligent young woman that I tuck in nightly with her blankie. I thank him for leaving me because it made me stronger and self sufficient. I thank him for not contributing financially because it makes my husband and I work that much harder as a team to make ends meet. I thank him for breaking my heart in to pieces for my husband has not only had to become a part of my heart…..but helped me rebuild it from the ground up. I thank him for his half truths and excuses because my daughter will enter the adult world and err on the side of caution, trusting carefully. After all we are the big winners in this. She for having a Mother who loves her enough for two parents and me for having the pleasure of watching her grow daily from the constant encouragement and care in to the young lady she is today. So…I ask...have you given thanks today?

Life gets busy in our house. Between waking up before the sun rises and going to bed entirely too late, you would think Hubs and I would have the opportunity to communicate freely often. But those hours seem to get weighted with household chores…straining to remember to encourage  Daughter’s daily band practice…Boy 1’s sight words THOSE SIGHT WORDS EVERY NIGHT…Baby Boy’s reading / playing/ changing diapers/ getting another handful of cereal… EYE.CREAM.MUST.REMEMBER.EYE.CREAM…Full House episodes to wind the kids down….it just gets-busy. Sometimes I daydream when Hubs is on my schedule for a lunch date about a romantic lunch, full of fine foods and rich conversation. Today my daydream was just that as we explored a new deli next door. I watched Hubs create a ‘suicide’ at the soda machine (I haven’t stomached one of those since I was 16), our conversation included quotes such as “$24 for lunch!? Better take out a second mortgage!” and “I’m starving…those portion sizes were tiny!” topped off by both of us giggling at the end of the meal while tasting the stale cookie that topped off our lunch date. And you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

When I was 11, I struggled with my weight and learned quickly cruel fellow kids can be. When I was 16, I learned about maintaining my own apartment and how difficult it was to balance working / cleaning / cooking / bills. When I was 18, I battled the loneliness and depression that came with moving cross country with no family or friends. When I was 24, I struggled to survive through a messy divorce and nasty custody battle while reentering the workforce after a long period of staying home. Now at thirty-something I look back and wonder how in the hell I made it thorough. My struggles now include getting this kid to this school event, studying this subject or encouraging that extra curricular task. It’s remembering to purchase snacks for tee ball games, flag football, school parties on top of planning out a dinner menu that will somewhat keep the peace in the house. It’s remembering, diligently, to apply the eye cream that I splurged on twice a day to keep the crows feet at bay. It’s juggling at work duties, at home duties and still trying to set aside some time to get down on the floor and play monster trucks, legos, read a book with the kids. Still worthy struggles but no where the uphill battles I fought before. Looking back, I was a badass even though I didn’t know it. So today I am going to be a little kinder to myself….I think you should do the same.

Bullying....my experience....

Recently the child suicide due to bullying hit close to home. Locally a beautiful, seemingly intelligent young lady who attended a prestigious private school took her own life and by all accounts it was due to peer bullying. It personally hit a note with me because Daughter is currently struggling with a long time ‘friend’ who at any chance is rude and downright cruel to her. The ‘friend’ recently told Daughter some unkind words as she looked at her newly taken school picture. (Not that I am biased or anything but Daughter looked positively stunning in it) All the years I have spent helping her build up a wall of self-esteem that strangers could not penetrate…..I did not think to educate her on ‘friends’ that could turn on her. I don’t know why….the exact thing happened to me. My bestest friend in the entire world in sixth grade knew of a monster crush I had on a certain red-headed boy in our class. She said that she would talk to him about being my boyfriend. To my surprise he agreed! Although, she told me that he did not want anyone to know and I could write love letters to him, give them to her and he would do the same. I still remember my heart fluttering at seeing his name signed with a heart next to it…just.for.me. Unfortunately I found out it all was a hoax. It was my ‘friend’….the one I spent all my summers with had turned on me. Not terribly long after that the entire neighborhood began terrorizing me. It was hurtful and I never thought I would make it. I, luckily, never contemplated suicide. My heart aches for the girls and boys out there that DO. If I could tell them one thing it would be “this too shall pass”. The ‘friends’, the enemies, the things that are so large in your life now…..will be a distant memory as you age. It took finding a good therapist to teach me to NOT be a victim. What is done to you cannot be changed but your reaction to the situation CAN change you….for the better. Absolutely no regrets.

National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day

We checked in to the hospital’s surgery center on February 14, 2006….Valentines Day. Where most people were receiving flower deliveries or making plans for that night’s dinner, he assisted me out of my clothes in to a hospital gown. I wept and for the first time in our relationship he quietly consoled me. The excitement that consumed us twenty four hours earlier as we awaited the fetal doppler to play us the sound of Baby’s heartbeat, turned in to sadness as the ultrasound confirmed that our child did not have a heart and unbeknownst to me had stopped growing a week before. How did I not know? As my anger subsided, sorrow consumed every moment. I wondered at that moment how we could ever be whole again and although it did not happen overnight Hubs and I began the healing process. I grew to accept there are some things in life we cannot begin to comprehend and possibly there was somewhere else he was needed more. I named him Aidan and although I never met him, I still carry him with me in my heart.

Today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. Thank you for listening to my story.

Kit Kat Bars

This is why I do what I do. An employee calls, distraught. She is unable to access her paystubs due to a case of ForgotYourUserName/Password-it is. As the conversation progresses she confides in me her reason she is unable to cope. Her husband, the breadwinner of the family, just walked out on her and her two children. She goes on to tell me that at this very moment she is applying for emergency assistance at her local DHS office. Now…the people I work with are great people but….they wouldn’t think of dropping their current project and immediately helping an employee in need this way. I did because….I was her. Nine years ago this Thanksgiving it was me frantic and emotionally unstable. It was me trying to find ANY way of making sure Daughter would not go without food and shelter. It was me accepting the help of a local charity who gave me a Dora book to add to Santa’s gifts. It was me who scrounged up ten dollars and went to the dollar store and purchased nine items to go under the tree. It was me who when Daughter asked “Will Santa leave me presents since we don’t have cookies?” to which I looked in the cookie jar to find the last bit of Halloween candy, a Kit Kat bar, and stated that Santa liked Kit Kat bars so much more than cookies. So I hurried and gathered her list of needs to send to the local DHS office, hoping that whatever she does receive will lift a little burden off her chest. I know I am thankful for any help I received during my time of need. It helped build character and make me stronger. Some memories are tough to recall, some I have completely blocked out, but the one thing I never forgot (nor did Daughter) was the Kit Kat bar. Our family still leaves one out every year for Santa. I hope she can find the rays of sunshine just as I did.

WWFHD? Part Dos

After a particularly rough weekend at the FSOM Household full of monster tantrums, disrespectful mouths, lots of arguing, falling over the baby gate four times and a car accident (the kiddos are okay…just shaken up)…I was angry. I go above and beyond on a daily basis to be positive or to be extra nice to all I meet and I never miss a chance to pay it forward. I started feeling sorry for myself because I am good person, I think. Shouldn’t my karma be good as well? Then I thought WWFHD? (ah yes the return of What Would Full House Do?) Then I thought about Michelle slapping her star button down and declaring “Guess what!? Politeness Week is over!”….then running off with Stephanie’s chocolate cupcake. But then I decided that not only do I like myself better when I am kind, polite and positive…..y’all like me this way too. So I decided to channel my inner Michelle Tanner a la the wedding cake episode. I went to Walgreens at lunch and stocked up on their 49 cent candy bar sale. In about ten minutes I plan to crawl up on my desk and devour my purchases…well maybe I will eat it a tad bit more modest. 

 

Mom Guilt

My #1 rule for myself every morning is to be on my best behavior with the kids. I always keep my temper in check and do everything with a smile. I never know what the world will bring them for the day, so I like to make sure they step out of the house in the best possible mood. Boss is pretty cool and gives me a thirty minute cushion to get here every morning which allows me to maneuver through daily hiccups. But today New Girl was arriving early and she does not know our arrangement so I wanted to arrive on time. Of course everything that could have gone wrong this morning…went wrong. I woke up late. Baby Boy refused to get his diaper changed AND spilled the container of Cheerios the entire length of the living room. Boy 1 was extra ornery and I was entirely too rough on him. Daughter called halfway to work and reminded me her book fair money was due today…..and it was in my purse. TURN THE CAR AROUND And Hubs….well he is on my PMS right now. (PMS= Pre menstrual shitlist) As I pulled in to work at precisely 7:30 I realized it wasn’t worth it. My manic state towards my kids…Hubs….myself…wasn’t worth it. Come Monday I am back to kids first…work second. So I’m hitting up the Goodwill at lunch today in search of a gently used toy or book for the kiddos. And will definitely visit the kids’ favorite drive-thru for dinner. This Mom Guilt is quite expensive……

WWFHD?

Daughter came home from school yesterday troubled. Her very good friend had commented in a rude way that she did not like Daughter’s shirt. My first instinct was to drive over to her friend’s house. I wanted to tell her that her personality sucks and ‘If youse ugly on the inside, youse ugly on the outside’. I shook the idea out of my head and thought…WWFHD? (What would Full House do?) I calmly sat Daughter down at the kitchen table and told her that not only was she beautiful, a great dresser and smart….but a GOOD person. I spoke about how even people who seem to be close friends make cruel, unkind comments to make themselves feel better. I complimented Daughter on her self esteem and told her that her friend more than likely is considerably lacking it. I also coached her on how to make good observations about her friends. If she really liked a friend’s shoes, tell her. If she was proud of a friend’s test score in school, tell her.  I am a firm believer in you get out of this world what you put in to it. Daughter is positive and friendly and I believe she will get a whole lot further in life than some of the ‘mean girls’ that seem to multiply the further she gets in school.

I WILL NOT FEEL GUILTY....REPEAT

This morning I attempted to take Baby Boy back to daycare after his week long bout of Rosecea. Although he is not contagious, they will not allow him back until tomorrow. (that is another whole story that will only get my blood pressure up) So….back home it was to juggle Hubs job and mine. We agreed upon me taking the AM shift and he would relieve me to come in for a few hours this afternoon. I tried my best to enjoy the time with Baby Boy and for the most part I did. We laughed as he begged for me to put a ball under his shirt and he excitedly popped it out. We ate Cheerios on the living room floor by the handful. We quietly read Pete the Cat as he snuggled his dinosaur blankie. I patted his back and watched him fall in to a blissful late morning nap. The entire time though….the pang of guilt….the paranoia that work was annoyed….that my boss has grown tired of the ill children “excuse”…loomed in the back of my mind. Until a very intelligent Favorite Niece reminded me that I should not feel guilty for being a Mom. After all…that is my main gig. Sure it is nice to be able to provide medical insurance or contribute a few bucks to bills….but without it we would survive. Hubs and I are quite a resourceful team. But without my main gig, my babies? Oh…that for sure would be a life not worth living. So I will repeat to myself today I WILL NOT FEEL GUILTY. I WILL NOT FEEL GUILTY!

Stay at home...Hubs!?

Hubs is on stay-at-home duty today again with two sick babies. I dreaded having to call him to walk him through tonight’s dinner which required him to put multiple ingredients in the crock pot and start it. I mean, I can do it all….but could he? I tried my best not to laugh but it was entertaining to hear him balance prepping dinner, feeding a fussy toddler, answering endless questions from a recovering Boy 1 while speaking with me as the dishwasher ran in the background. I was proud of him keeping it all together while I walked him through the steps and told him to “have at it” with the spices. Slap a push up bra and full face of makeup on him and he would be my twin. Well, maybe not TWIN but worthy of a round of applause!

Anniversary Date!

Hubs and I enjoyed our anniversary afternoon oodles! We found the peacefulness a welcome treat as we dined all fancy-like at Red Lobster. I even had a midday strawberry margarita…..oooh so risqué! We tried to think up something, anything to do with our few hours of freedom. The only thing we (I) came up with was hitting up the GW! *Thrift Shop song plays in head*  Hubs is such a team player. He played the dutiful husband bit as I quickly but efficiently raced through the aisles of clothing. Total score! The outfit I am wearing today cost fewer than ten bucks! I felt so lucky our next stop was the neighboring gas station where we bought a scratch off lottery ticket. As I scratched off and realized we did not win any cash I shrugged my shoulders and commented ‘Hey babe, at least we are lucky in love’ to which he replied ‘We sure are’. Dang nabbit…I’ll take it!

Thankful

Infidelity surrounds me this week. It’s in the daily chit-chat with my female coworker who took back her cheating man but struggles to forgive him and frequently reminds him of how much he has hurt her. It’s the sad eyes of my hairdresser who just severed her 16 year relationship with her man and explained to me how she is picking up the pieces of her life. It’s the depressed appearance of an employee’s wife who waits as her husband is terminated from being a very naughty man during work hours. So even though Hubs and I bicker from going on nearly a year without a date night, and even though I am pretty sure Bon Jovi’s ‘Livin on a Prayer’ was pre-written for us….today I am thankful. I am thankful to go home to my husband. We might be stressed out, we might be broke but we are rich in love, together.

If you give a Mother a strawberry margarita pouch....

If you give a Mother a strawberry margarita pouch

She’ll find it is too frozen to drink and place it in the refrigerator

She’ll notice a few stray items left from dinner and clean them up

She’ll go to take towels to the laundry room and see the basement lights on

She’ll realize the windows were left open and close them

She’ll reminiscently look at old photos in frames and remember the years past

She’ll hear her daughter ask for help with her medication

She’ll assist her son in a nightly sip of water when he hears her in the kitchen

She’ll turn to find her other son pointing to the milk cup not yet washed

She’ll step on a toy as she retreats to her recliner

She’ll soon be accompanied by her oldest son to cuddle for a bit

She’ll wake up in the middle of the night with her hand numb

She’ll realize that she never got to drink her margarita pouch

She’ll silently say ‘There is always tomorrow’ as she carries a sleeping boy to bed

Kindergarten Day!

Today was Boy 1's first day of Kindergarten. He was a fidgety mess. He kept putting his arms in his shirt and pulling the strap off his backpack. He rarely looked up but answered clearly when the teacher asked for his name. I luckily wore my sunglasses as my eyes pooled up with tears, so he did not fear that this was a bad thing. It was all good. Familiar school, familiar teachers. I knew he was safe and what was to come the next years of his life because Daughter paved the way. Brave girl. So I suppose IT DOES get better. The hot mess I was years ago dropping off a pretty 5 year old to her first day in a brand new, strange building....was long gone. I was....stately. I was calm, I stood tall and when it was time for the parents to skedaddle...Hubs and I did. And although my eyes shed a few tears on the way to the car, it wasn't an ugly cry. I feel like I should graduate to the next belt color like in karate or something.

1st day of middle school

Where the heck does time go? It seems like not too long ago I dressed Daughter in a red, Hawaiian style dress on her first day of preschool that I paid $1 for at the thrift shop after her father walked out and left us with nothing. This morning I helped her choose her outfit, custom picked by her from the mall, for the first day of middle school and gave her an ankle bracelet of mine. I told her that every time she felt the bracelet move with a step, it was me helping her put one foot in front of the other. She needs all the good vibes she can get…Lord knows middle school was rough. Maybe y’all could send some her way too. *wink*

The What?! Factor

I know the old saying goes something like “You can look, just don’t touch” when it comes to the opposite sex while in a relationship and many people agree with that sentiment. I, being the product of divorce by unfaithfulness, do not agree wholeheartedly with that statement. In my experience a look led to a touch, led to unfaithfulness, led to the demise of a marriage. I have always said celebrity crushes are a-okay. Those people are on a different level and the odds of ever contacting someone with celebrity status are astronomical. But….the young female who prances around, locally, who does not have thinning hair from years of supporting a failing family business, who does not have body aches from keeping up with the mountains of laundry…the daily meals…the housework, who does not have Goodwill clothes on due to sacrificing so her family can have better….is off limits. To me. Nothing anyone can say will ever change this feeling for me. This may be from the residuals of a failed first marriage but whatever the case finding out that your spouse sends a text message to a friend that this female has ‘The Wow Factor’ and you have not received a compliment since Obama’s first term in office….it hurts. The very same way stepping on a hidden Lego on the floor feels. I, too, still desire that passion. I crave that animalistic draw. I want to feel not only needed…but wanted. To be craved. So I suppose I am putting this out there for any guy who reads this. Go home tonight and tell your wife she is hot. That she is stunning and you desire her even when it doesn’t seem it. And for all the ladies out there who feel unappreciated and undesirable…you are not alone.

Donut Week!

I felt like a dead man walking this morning. You see, it is the last week that Boy 1 is in preschool before he starts Kindergarten and Hubs will start taking him due to a later drop off time. So that means my little co-founder of Donut Fridays won’t be there to accompany me anymore, it’ll be just me and Baby Boy. So I decided to make this final week… DONUT WEEK. The problem with that is Boy 1 didn’t want to get dressed, he didn’t want to brush his teeth and moved slower than a snail’s pace. All things that are no-nos for the reward. I thought long and hard as we made the drive to school. I looked at him with his head hung from disappointment in the rear view mirror as he barely glanced at the gas station as we passed. I couldn’t do it, ladies. I know most people would say ‘Stick to your guns!’….’Be consistent!’ but as tears flowed down my face thinking that all this would be over entirely too soon I knew I had to put my parental mind to rest and go with my heart. My heart said Dunkin Donuts….a treat he never gets. And just like that we were in route to school, with chocolate frosting all over his face and a twinkle in his eye….everything was right in the world again. He won’t grow up to be a serial killer because I didn’t following my discipline through this time….so I am okay with that. I didn’t really think the last week would be this hard. I have cried less when family members passed away. I decided that it can’t be over after this week, it won’t be over. The last Friday of every month I will take a shorter lunch to arrive a half hour late to work so we can still have a little Donut Friday time. It makes it a bit easier knowing it won’t be over completely. This whole change thing is tougher than I thought it would be.

Virtual Vacay

We arrived to hop our connecting flight from the Midwest to LAX and since the layover was so lengthy, Hubs and I decided to do some power shopping in sunny CA. We enjoyed several hours of shopping at the most exquisite boutiques, where everything fit me like a glove. We then boarded our flight to Tahiti, first class, and were welcomed with a flower lei. We settled in to our one night stay, comfortably, as we indulged in some adult spirits and long overdue conversation. In the morning after a long night of enjoying each others company, we boarded our final destination flight to Bora Bora. Once arrived we were carted off in a water taxi and the golden sun bathed my pale skin with a glow that warmed me inside and out. Hubs exited the taxi first, then turned for my hand as I smiled and put my hand in his to assist me on to the indescribable beach. We slowly walked to our private bungalow as he affectionately placed his fingers on the small of my back. This...is...the...life....I reflected......

Then the co-worker came back, the telephone rang, my Outlook reminder to complete a report popped up, an employee came in to tell me his life story and POOF I was back in reality. Maybe tomorrow I can return...or the next day...or the next day.....

The 'F' word....Fat

Today started rough. We staff a major temporary event every year and one of my perks of the job is I receive a very pricy promotional shirt from the event, compliments of Boss. The problem is through the years; through the pregnancies…my body has changed. So as a coworker (who is male) and I take part in ‘Vintage Week’ he looks the same but my appearance varies greatly each day. Two pregnancies ago me, postpartum me and what is left of me now do not provide a great background for the array of shirts. So, as I put one on this morning, Boy 1 stated that ‘I looked like a boy’. Fair enough. It’s a polo shirt so I can see his angle. In the GW pile it went. Shirt two goes on and as I debate its future….Boy 1 declared “You look fat. You are fat Mommy.”…and giggled. I know I am no supermodel but fat? I tried to figure out where he got the idea to call me fat while I desperately tried to look presentable for work. Then it hit me, all the times I irritably dressed and remarked “I hate this! I have no clothes! I look fat!”….it was me. It was MY fault. Ashamed of what I subjected him through, I vowed to keep my comments to myself going forward. Out of the mouth of babes was no longer funny. It was hurtful. As I scrolled my Facebook newsfeed this morning, I saw an article I will link in comments that fueled me to take a few minutes out of my busy schedule and give a little PSA to all my friends around here. Love yourself, love your body….and if you don’t….do NOT let your children know how you loathe your body. Love to all my beautiful ladies reading this today……

Another Donut Friday...

The boys and I rolled pretty hard this morning after our weekly stop for ‘Donut Friday’. I had my 32 ounces of Diet Pepsi, Boy 1 had his 4^th of July festive pastry and Baby Boy had nibbles of a cinnamon roll. The windows were down due to a much welcomed break in the heat and as we cruised to their school, I bumped a classic. Pete the Cat. We looked quite thuggish as our heads bobbed up and down…..”I love my white shoes, I love my white shoes”. Donut Fridays are the best. I tried my best to fight tears back as I looked at Boy 1 in the backseat jamming. We only have one month left…one month. Then, Hubs starts to take him in the mornings as he begins elementary school. He was the co-founder of Donut Fridays. He was my first baby that I had to leave at three months old and I was introduced to a world of guilt and sadness. So we created Donut Fridays as a celebratory end of the week event. To show that we made it through five days of being away from each other and tomorrow morning we would have the weekend to bond. I remember lugging him in as he was just a little over one when we began and now…it’s almost over. It hurts. I know I will still have Baby Boy to accompany me but it won’t be the same. So for now, I will enjoy each trip and try not to think about the approaching end to our special occasions.

Preschool Graduation

Boy 1 had his preschool graduation today. It was emotional. When the music began to play and he walked in wearing a cap and gown my mind flashed to a skinny, colicky, big headed three month old baby whom I had to leave…all day….for eight plus hours a day. I cried. A lot. I felt like I was going to miss out on everything and I even recall a telephone conversation with Mom where I sobbed and asked if he would even know I was his Mother because I had to be absent so much on a daily basis. And there he was….tall, slim, with a mega watt smile on his face. He knew who I was. He didn’t hate me because I have to work. All the worries, the tears…gone. He is smart…the top of his class…social, caring and hungry to move on to Kindergarten for more knowledge. He did it. Hubs did it. I did it. We ALL did it.

Fathers...err...Family Day 2013

Who needs Mothers Day when you have Fathers Day!? The latter went much more smoothly…probably because I was in charge. *wink* Everyone was well fed with a homemade breakfast and with me in charge of all the morning chores everything was done correctly. My OCD was doing back flips as I made the beds nice and snug! We ended up, after visiting the final resting place of Hubs Dad, to make an impromptu day trip to a boutique style shopping little town, about an hour or two away from home. I was a little nervous since we did not have a stroller but lugging Baby Boy around wasn’t too bad and I rewarded myself with an extra piece of pizza at dinner since I burned…what…double the calories walking? That is what I told myself anyhow. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and to me it didn’t matter if it was Fathers Day, Mothers Day, Childrens Day (wait…that is every day)….it was a great Family Day. I did have a twinge of sadness since Daughter spent the day with her “Father” and I learned that it was less than spectacular. The highlight was when he took her to McDonalds and bought himself and girlfriend a meal but Daughter had to pay for her own. (Imma let that sink in for a minute) Hubs was ever the stellar ‘step’ Father and made sure to pick her up a few presents due to her absence on the trip. I’m definitely banking that memory for the train wreck outings to know that one time…for one day…everything went so smoothly.

Tee Ball Pride

If you are anything like me, you question your choices as a parent frequently. Am I being too hard? Am I being too lenient? Do I feed them too much junk food? Do they know how much I love them? These are all questions I ask myself almost daily. And then you have those moments, those few and far between moments where God, Allah, Buddha, Jesus, John McClane…okay so he isn’t a God (or is he?) or whomever is in charge of life…casts a light on how good you are actually doing. Last night, at Boy 1’s tee ball game, each kid on his team had an issue. Whether it was they couldn’t sit still, yelling, misbehaving, not paying attention…each of those children had some issue. Not my kid. There he sat…criss-cross applesauce, on the bench, hands in his lap…attentive to the game and minded his coach. My kid? My kid. Now, this does not always happen. Actually it happens such a small amount of the time the odds are comparable to hitting the Powerball jackpot. But last night a wave of pride flooded over me and I felt someone, something give me a pat on the back and say “Atta Mom” and it was awesome.

Donut CHEERS

If I could tag each of you in this post that left kind words or liked my “I’m sorry” post last night….I would. I have always prided myself on being an organized, elegant, have-it-all-together Mom. Last night was rough for me. There I was….makeup half smeared off revealing my ruddy complexion and dark circles, dangling a 25 pound wiggly Baby Boy on my left hip, diaper bag unzipped dangling off my right arm, popping Fruit Loops in Baby Boy’s mouth to keep him happy and then there was the frantic speed walk through the school trying to locate Boy 1’s coat while I flopped one heel in front of the other on the verge of tears. So as the never-ending day came to a close I posted my thoughts, turned the phone off and went to sleep dreaming so deeply I almost felt guilty for smoking a cig in my dream. As I checked my page this morning I was overwhelmed by the support and stories of Moms just like me. So I thank you for confirming what I knew deep down that I am not the only Mom who goes through days like that. Still guilt hung over from last night I took the boys to the gas station for Donut Friday and purchased, for the first time in a long time, one for myself. I hold my donut up and salute all of you on this THANK GOODNESS IT’S FRIDAY! <3

I'm sorry...

I'm sorry I was so rushed picking you kids up because traffic was a nightmare. I'm sorry I didn't pay better attention at Kindergarten Roundup because Baby Boy was extremely fussy and my mind wandered to the piles of laundry waiting for me at home. I'm sorry we didn't stay for pizza and a cookie like you wanted, Boy 1, because my arm went numb from carrying your brother and my heels were digging into me. I'm sorry I lost your coat, Boy 1,  and took three teachers, a janitor and twenty minutes to locate it. I'm sorry yall heard Mommy cry. I'm sorry your cough is driving me EFFIN INSANE, Daughter. I'm sorry I had to take five minutes alone to regain some sense of composure and put you in your crib, Baby Boy. I'm just sorry. I'm a sorry excuse for a Mom tonight. There isn't enough Cinnamon Toast Crunch, amaretto or Xanax in the world to take the guilt away. So I'll wait til everyone is asleep, say a silent prayer that tomorrow is better and you have your Super Mom back because today I seemed to have misplaced my cape.

Adventures in Retail Therapy

Well, this is…puzzling. I went, I shopped, I have no merchandise. Following a quick bite to eat I decided I needed some retail therapy. With last week’s stress of daycare closing (I think we are out of the woods, not 100% but pretty sure) and this past weekend’s *cough* *cough* *cough* still echoing in my head I needed a little Jenn Time. I was in hot pursuit of a new purse, Mom….don’t judge. Strolling through the aisles that were rather on the slim pickens side I spied a Guess purse that I was ‘in like’ with. An older gal picked up one, in a different color, and solicited my opinion. I said ‘I like it!’ She proceeded to thank me and inform me it was a Birthday present for her 70 year old gal pal. *blank stare*….and back to the rack went that purse!! (Any of my 70+ friends around here, take no offense I ♥ YA!) Okay, shoes. Shoes’ll do?! I have big feet so I was really gambling on that idea. Size 10 is a squeeze but in a good brand, they fit. Problemo. Size 10 a-l-w-a-y-s on the bottom…..and there went 25 boxes of shoes scattered all over the shoe department. If that wasn’t bad enough my Amazonian feet wouldn’t fit in anything. It was then I decided to give up. This whole retail therapy was going about as well as going to your skinny friend and expecting empathy on an ‘I’m a big ol fatty’ day. So I walked out. I felt like a shoplifter. As I pulled out of the parking lot I suffered my last bout of humiliation. Apparently I had Ludacris up next on my mix CD and this awkward Iowa white girl turned fifty shades of red as people began to stare as his lyrics wafted through the open sunroof. I quickly changed to the next track which was a much more acceptable Kelly Clarkson song. So I emptily traveled back to work with the sad sounds of adult contemporary hugging me like a distant Uncle. Feeling unfulfilled and ill at ease.

Step-less Fathers...*cheers*

Somewhere in Iowa a stepfather rearranges his schedule to take Daughter to urgent care. He patiently waits amongst the room of ill folks (keeping his aversion to sick folks at bay) and when given the prescription dutifully drives to pharmacy and waits yet again all in an effort to assist her in a road to recovery.
Somewhere else, around the metro area, a biological ‘father’, ignores repeated phone calls and texts. Already gives the bare minimum…wait what is less than bare minimum….to his child’s upbringing and yet is visiting Sleepyville, enjoying the benefits of never having to miss a wink of sleep due to a child’s illness.
Here’s to all the men who step up to the plate another man left on the table!

Blessings...

Well today is the day. The School Board is supposed to vote at noon…..

Sometimes when I get overly stressed I turn on the oldies station on the way to work. They usually play songs I know my parents liked and I try to insert myself in to their mindset when they were just a set of young parents up and coming. I think they must have lived through the same tribulations as Hubs and I do….the stresses of money, children, marriage, life. They made it out the other end. Yeah, maybe divorced and strained relationships with kids from time to time but in the now? Everything is a-ok. So I am calm, cool and collected. Whatever happens today is simply another part of the life roller coaster. Either it’s the bottom and we are going up…..or we are at the top and hold on to our bellies because we are fixen to drop. I am counting my blessings today. I am alive, as are the ones I love. I have a home, food to eat, clothes to wear, new lotion that makes my skin feel like silk…you get the gist. Life may not provide everything I WANT, but today and right now I have everything I NEED. And for that I am grateful. Take a minute this morning to count your blessings, in the business of life it is so easily forgotten!

Thunderstorms and cereal addictions

Thunderstorms. I remember, 185 years ago, when I was single with no kids I loved them. They way they gently woke me up in the night as the room filled with light, rumbles of thunder and the dancing of rain on the windows. Now? It means Hubs up to rock Baby Boy, Boy 1 possessing over half of the king sized bed with his Gumby physique and Daughter biting her nails and mumbling three inches away from my face in an effort for sympathy and an invitation in to bed. As Hubs and I shuffled around the house this morning, resembling something out of a zombie movie, we looked aged and quite pathetic. So we broke out the non-fiber, kids cereal and ate to our hearts content. As he enjoyed Fruit Loops (which Baby Boy absolutely loves and I have figured out works as a bribe to enjoy dinner….ENJOY dinner….crazy concept) I broke out the Cinnamon Toast Crunch. I cannot be trusted with these squares. You have heard of alcoholics, drug addicts….well, my name is Jenn and I am a CTCW (Cinnamon Toast Crunch Whore). I promised that I would only have one bowl but after seeing the amount of leftover milk I had, decided to eat another. Then I ran out of milk, so I had to add more cereal….you see the tangled web I get myself in to. And there I was feeling all dirty and hating myself from the massive amounts of CTC. Off to hang my head in shame!

School Board...Schmool Board

WHY MUST I BE SUCH A COMPLICATED WOMAN!? I know it is a stereotype but I am fitting in to it pretty well these days. The school board meeting lasted quite late last night. Educators, parents, grandparents….they came out in droves to plea with the board to not close our birth-2 early learning center. Men, grown men, on the board were moved to tears but in a strange twist the two female board members sat stone-faced with a random buzz kill comment here and there. I left the meeting around 9:30, while they were still debating. They delayed the vote until Friday in an effort to save the program upon word from the State of Iowa on funds. The whole thing was exhausting. It has been quite a journey emotionally for me. I have openly shared my current ‘mini mid-life crisis’ with you through the past weeks. I have been in my current job for over eight years now. Boring HR same ol, same ol…this person quit, lets hire a new….this person needs a new uniform, get him a new one…..just blah. I just keep thinking this whole thing is a sign. For what? I don’t know….could I be one of those people who go back to college at 30 something? Does that make me a yuppie? Does that make me an irresponsible adult for quitting a job with benefits (crap pay) to pursue a dream? It seems pretty deep for 8 AM and I don’t even have chocolate to ponder it over with. Bummer.

You are NOT the winner....

Hey, did you hear about the $2 million dollar Powerball winner in Iowa?! .......Well, it wasn't me so I went through my normal routine this morning. Wake up twenty minutes late, house is a disaster...no time to pick up, GET DRESSED BOY 1!, put on frumpy work pants with belt that is losing the pleather lining, no time for breakfast....will stop and drink soda for AM meal, STOP RUNNING AROUND NAKED BOY 1!, cuddle Baby Boy....discourage Daughter from wearing UGLY Nike Shox her 'Dad' bought her, GET SHOES ON BOY 1!, remote start car, BYE ALL, LOVE YOU!, get pissed off at heels....have Hubs throw flat shoes to me outside, whip heels at him (nicely, of course)............and off to face the school/work day. Now, I am not saying I would want the $200+ mil that NJ guy won but I would take a cool $2 mil. To top the morning off, I have apparently lost my soul. For two straight mornings my twenty minute drive to work has been snippets of songs that I scan for looking for a song to get me in the groove to go to work. Nada. Shania Twain, Outkast, Shanice (memba' her!?), Garth Brooks, Lil Jon, Toni Braxton...none of them did it for me this morning. I have heard of 'Soul' music....anyone know of some 'Souless' music I can tune in to? For now I will be left with the millions of thoughts that run through my mind, the sound of Baby Boy on his second day of crying and the popping of my Diet Pepsi. Shhh....maybe it is trying to guide me in the right direction for life.....nah. It's probably just the carbonation.

Spring Break 2013...the recap

I have ALWAYS wanted to come back to work. After maternity leave, the holiday break, weekends…..but today? Not so much. This past week with the kids was pretty awesome and it all started two Saturdays ago….

Sitting in the family room waiting to flip a load of laundry, I sat on the floor and watched Baby Boy look around at his siblings playing on opposite sides of the room. Normally I am on the go 24/7 but at that moment I knew something was going to happen. About five minutes in to his scoping the room out, it happened. He put his two tiny hands on the floor, popped his butt out so he was on all fours…..and took off. It wasn’t the “Did he really crawl?” or “He scooted a little bit!”….no. He took off like his life depended on it. I felt flush and my heart began to beat quickly. WHAT A RUSH! No feat at work EVER compared to the high, the thrill of seeing my Baby Boy accomplish his first milestone with just ME watching. I ran outside to Hubs, who was restocking his equipment, and he blurted out “OH SHIT! I MISSED IT!” I did feel a little bad for him but it was short lived because I…I got to see it!

Monday we had appointments to attend to and I now know Hub’s value. Corralling three kids is tough shit. I was gleaming with perspiration…it was not an attractive thing. I was so happy to get home and change in to my yoga pants and a tank it wasn’t even funny.

(Yoga pants side note. These things are freaking awesome!! And tennis shoes? This work attire and heels is bull! If you are wearing yoga pants right now…I mean I love ya….but I hate ya at the same time! *sad face*)

Tuesday was Mom Day. YAY! My Mom is always so busy so it was nice to actually have a day with her and the kids. We went to Wally World and she bought them a little something for Easter and I got the boring staples (milk, eggs, cereal) that grown ups get to buy. By the way WHERE IS MY EASTER PREZZIE MOM!? We then made our way to the local Children’s Museum. Boy 1 ran around so much I am sure onlookers suspected he was either off meds or cracked out. It warmed my heart to see him so happy and entertained. I was bummed it was so busy though because some stupid kids were hogging the supermarket area and DANG NABBIT I wanted to play checkout! Stupid kids. After a fast food lunch, it was off to the solace and comfort of home.

Wednesday my Niece in Law (is that even right? Would she just be my Niece? Who knows…..too tired to Google it) stopped by and visited. She is pregnant, due in May, and is struggling with the idea of SAHM or EOTH Mom (EOTH= Employed outside the home). I have been on both sides. A SAHM with Daughter and EOTH with the Boys. Both have their perks and right about now I would love to be the SAHM again……but it reminded me of how happy I am to NEVER be pregnant again. Yes….it’s magical BLAH BLAH BLAH and at the time I did love it but N-E-V-E-R again! Then Daughter had a gal pal come stay the night and I wondered if her parents would consider taking Daughter and leaving theirs. I decided it was inappropriate to ask.

Thursday I got to do one of my all time favorite past times. Recliner naps with Baby Boy. Just breathing in his wonderfulness…listening to his breaths…..it is quite possibly the most satisfying thing on Earth. Daughter made lunch for her gal pal and Boy 1 while I snoozed away. Having self sufficient kids is freaking awesome! Twenty minutes later it was back to my big house cleaning project.

Friday TAX RETURN DAY! WOOT WOOT! Off to Sam’s Club to stock up on paper towels, toilet paper, diapers….ect. I remember the days of “HEY! Tax return! Let’s go on vacation, let’s buy a TV!” And now I am all over here saying “HEY! Let’s go get economy size goods!”

Saturday we actually had decent weather! I was able to get my grill on and made steaks, brats and cheeseburgers with some sautéed onions and mushrooms on the side burner. NOM NOM NOM While the grill was a’grillin’ I decided that I had Spring Fever and the only cure for it was…..no, not more cowbell! I dug the loppers out and hacked away at my favorite purple in the Spring tree. I slept so well that night and the ache in my joints was a welcomed feeling.

Sunday…….the last day. *sad face* For the first time in God-knows-how-long we went out to lunch, ice cream and a family GW run. It was a success. Boy 1 made out the best as we got tons of clothes for him and the kids picked out some books to read also.

And then it was all done. The week was over. It wasn’t spectacular or anything but it was nice. I longed for the days of being a SAHM. It’s not like I am the breadwinner on this family and with the ACA taking effect next year who knows where we will stand with my benefits….so I still am pondering after 32 ounces of Diet Pepsi and bantering with co-workers…..what do I want? I am promising not to make a decision now. Not with the sound of Baby Boy crying locked in my head as I left daycare this morning. Oh why did I remind myself of that?! I feel confused. I wasn’t confused on Friday the 15^th…why am I confused so on Monday the 25^th?  I suppose you don’t have the answer, do you?

*Caution PMS Rant Zone*

You know what gets stuck in my craw? Women...no...girls...that claim to be involved Mothers. Yet, their parents raise their children, which makes ZERO sense to me because a certain number of them do not even work, and they post photos of their new hair color, new clothing, flawless makeup. Well, you know what a Mother looks like in my house? Woke up at 4:45 from the never ending Family Guy "Mama, Momma, Mama, Momma....x3,238" bellowing out of Baby Boy's room. Showering...personal hygiene...a half assed blow dry that singed my hair as the curling iron hit it....then there came the makeup. Oy...L'Oreal promises "Now, get the intense look and luxurious feel of a liquid liner with the easy application and precision of a pencil with L'Oreal's Extra-Intense Liquid Pencil Eyeliner ..." LIAR! BIG FAT LIAR! I looked like a tranny after my shaky hands applied it, now on the 2,458,923rd "MOMMA!"....and getting dressed. Yeah a big FU goes out to my closet this morning. You sneaky shrinking bastards. As I left the house I didn't even bother to put a coat on even though it is 10 degrees out. If I made it through getting ready and not dying....a little cold air aint got nothing on me!

Photographs

On the end table across from my desk in my office lie four photo frames. The smallest one, a 4x6, houses a black and white photo of Hubs, Daughter, Boy 1, Baby Boy and myself. It was taken at the hospital the first full day of our newly extended family. The funny thing is even though my hair wasn't done, I had minimal makeup and a nightgown on....it is certainly my favorite picture of all time. I felt as a mother, a wife...a woman....the most complete I had ever felt in my entire life. Behind that photo stand three picture frames, 5x7 in size. Each has a favorite, solo, picture of each of the children. I decided to update them today and as I replaced the favorites I couldn't believe how fast time had went by. Daughter had grown from a flower girl at my friend's wedding to a beautiful clarinet player at her first concert. Boy 1 had grown from a chubby bleach blonde boy running through the back yard in his 'Kiss me, I'm Irish" shirt to a tall, lean young boy on his first day of tee ball. Baby Boy had grown from barely holding his head up with dark newborn eyes to sitting up with his solid chubby build with big blue eyes. It made me feel like an adult, accomplished. This is what I have done the past eleven years....mold my children. Then it dawned on me....crap....I hope I am doing this right!

Donna Day 2013

This morning my Facebook feed was full of chatter about something called ‘Donna Day’. Curious, I clicked on a fellow page and was linked within her story to a woman who goes by Mary Tyler Mom. I sat and read each blog post and braced myself for what I knew the last post would be. My heart ached. For this precious little angel, for the family living through it and most of all a fellow Mother. We are supposed to fix things. Broken toy? Mom will put new batteries in. Lost mitten? Mom knows right where it is. Belly ache? Mom always knows how to make it feel better. But this. I cannot, even for a second, wrap my head around trying to ‘fix’….cancer. With the exception of my Grandfather I have never known the struggles of a terminal illness. Moms, well we always have to put on the brave smile when there is an ouchie to attend to, the first day of school jitters or all the other moments that your children hurt. We are supposed to be brave, strong, unbreakable….right? What happens when your precious daughter looks at you, after battling cancer, and says "Why am I worried I'm dying?". So, today my heart goes out to the entire Mary Tyler Mom Family and most importantly a fellow Mom. I suppose the saying does go, You never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have. Hug your children a little tighter tonight. If they spill their drink at dinner, don’t fret. If they don’t eat all their dinner, don’t stress. Just love. For some Mothers do not have that option with one of their children tonight.

Meet Ralph

 I felt a little reminiscent this morning as I mindlessly transported myself to work and through my vents came the smell of exhaust. Not normal exhaust but the smell of being eight years old, with Dad, Mom, Brother in OUR Family Truckster (a Chevette), sitting in gridlock inching our way in to the big city of Chicago. It seemed so big to me then. Strange people, strange place. Now, I know people who reside there and have frequented the area due to our Regional Office location there. It took me back to being small, naive....fragile. I thought of my children. I pondered the math in my head and figured my parents to be about my age at that time. Holy shit. In my mind they were so mature.....old even. They knew all the answers. Is that what my kids think of me? I certainly do not know all the answers and am sickened at the notion that I am old! I dug out my CD book out of the center console, in an effort to recapture some of my youth. As I did this, I found Ralph. 

Ladies and Gentlemen, Ralph. Ralph, Ladies and Gentlemen. 

Ralph has been in my life since 1996. I bought him the week of my 16th Birthday on my first drive to the mall in my Birthday present a sporty, maroon Chevy Beretta. To take you back some....this is when Walgreen's was in the mall. Feel ancient yet? Anyhow....Ralph and I have spent many fun-filled days together. He has been in my life since before Hubs and the kids....wow....did I even have a life then? Yes. Yes I did, I recall. Bass a thumpin, stogies a burnin,  smiles a dozen, laughing....carefree. He was my first child of sorts. Thank goodness I have become a better parent. Note the cigarette burns on his cheeks. Poor Ralphie. I don't take him out often. He currently resides in the deep center console of the Family Truckster.


I smiled thinking of the immature version of myself. Was that really ME all those years ago? What happens to us over the years? Life, I suppose. Hurt, betrayal, lies, tears..... We start out wide eyed and so trusting of the world then reach an age where we forget who we were. All the things our kids do to drive us nuts, were things that we did. Why do we get so angry? Well as these thoughts danced in my head the eight year old me got really pissed off at the thirty-something me. So I decided to act as young and carefree as my thirty something body would let me on my journey to work. I cued up an old mix CD, cranked up the volume and felt Mariah Carey enter my veins.

Mariah Carey....We Belong Together

It wasn't my usual crooning, staring straight ahead while concerned about my surroundings. Not today. I had my left hand on the wheel and my right hand was going all Mariah up in there! I glanced at cars that passed and if they made eye contact with me I simply serenaded them with a longing gaze. IT WAS FUN! I felt 16 again! For the first time in a long time, I let go. You know what? It was awesome. So today, channel your inner 16 year old.....or whatever age you want to commemorate......and just be carefree. Life is too short! Take the stick up out of your ass! Figuratively, of course. If you literally have a stick up your ass, go to the hospital friend!

Great Expectations

I’m not quite sure what I expected this morning while getting dressed. I suppose I expected to have lost that pesky 15 pounds miraculously overnight, after a day of eating better. Alas, I was the same poundage (and roundness) I was the night before. This shit is hard. I mean, what is a girl to do? I have given up all my vices.

Smoking. I am a former smoker from the age of 13 until I became pregnant with my daughter. Quit my entire pregnancy only to return to the tempting cancer sticks when she was 6 weeks old. I quit again when I became pregnant with our Angel Baby in 2005. After a miscarriage at 10 weeks, you guessed it…..I went back. Then there was the pregnancy of Boy 1. It was the hardest quit ever. I felt like I was detoxing off of heroin…although to be fair I have never done heroin so I am merely being dramatic to make a point. Shit was hard. I vowed never to go back again. So here I am, six months away from my 6 year smoke-iversary. I still crave a cig every now and then but never indulge.

Drinking. I am not by any means a recovering alcoholic. I did enjoy drinking, though. The weekends we did not have my daughter, we went to the local pub and had a blast. Laughing, carefree, dancing…..it was a blast. Now? If we decide to have one drink it really isn’t even worth it because one doesn’t do much of anything. It doesn’t unwind me it just makes me go pee and my face looks bloated the next day. If I was to drink any more, the limited amount of fun that would come from a drunken bender would pale in comparison to the multi-day hangover that would plague my entire body, coupled with the kids yelling….screaming….fighting…whining…..yeah you get the picture. Not worth it.

Goodwill. I am a former GW whore. I used to hit every Goodwill or Salvation Army locally weekly. When I was a stay at home I went almost every day. When I had only my daughter, I would go on the weekends or at night. There was always that warmth of excitement that flowed through my veins as the automatic door swooshed open….What will I discover today?! What deal will I uncover!?  Will it be a book, a new shirt, a toy for the kids!? I’m getting excited writing this!! Gahh! Unfortunately, errands need to be completed on my lunch break. Weekends chock-full of laundry, housework and playing with the kiddos. Nights occupied with dinner prep, dinner clean up, MORE LAUNDRY, kids homework, getting bits and pieces together for the next morning. Another vice I have given up.

So all that is left is food. Now I have to quit her. If I just wouldn’t have indulged in Februany at Subway last year when I was pregnant or if I wouldn’t have seen being pregnant as a free pass to eat…..maybe I would have only gained the recommended 25 pounds, instead of the 35 I gained. I can sit here and kick myself in the ass for only so long before I have to saddle up and do what I know I need to do. No more mouths full of Cool Ranch Doritos. No more handfuls of cheese sampling while cooking dinner. And most certainly no more trips to Walgreens after lunch to purchase chocolate. At least not for now. I am going to try and be good. I am going to try very, very hard. Let’s see how it goes. For now I am off to enjoy a low calorie, lime margarita at my desk. *CHEERS*