I have officially hit old status…

You know when you’re younger you have this idea of what old is and it usually came with a number. You remember that magical number that signifies the dawning of senility and the need for walking devices that was not needed before; well, I’ve hit that and apparently passed it. It’s funny how that number can change as you grow older anyway.  I mean come on… 30 was damn near ancient and dinosaurs, toilet paper, and running water wasn’t available when that person was a kid. Ideas of what classified “old” were some simple things like going to bed before the 10 o’clock news, falling asleep in the chair watching movies, complaining about hurting anywhere, hair growing in places it shouldn’t, grey hair, and just not being able to play 24/7.
I have reached the magic number (a bit ago) and now have reached some of the other requirements (10:30 p.m. kills me and I hurt everywhere). Waxing has become part of my life and it isn’t just a want to tame down the caterpillars, but to also remove the hairs I swore only great grannies had and not to mention how gravity works on the human body. The female body as it ages can be beautiful, but let’s face it, we are not all Demi Moore. The idea of being a “cougar” is quite entertaining but again it also throws out the “omg! He is dating his mommy” vibe at the same time which just freaks me the freak out and it’s like the “dirty old man” staring at the young girls with his mouth open and drool hanging out. Getting back to gravity and the wonders if has on the body, one finds that illness, surgeries, and other freaky little health things come more frequently as you age. You find yourself saying things like “Do you need a tissue and some germ-x?” or “Are you serious?! You’re flipping sick and you came in?! Great, now my whole family is gonna get it.” When it used to be, “Oh, shit! Girl that sucks! Want a beer?” I miss those days at times and then I’m also glad that those days are long gone and done. I mean I loved every minute of it but let’s face it, if a genie came and said “I grant you the wish of being 21 again.” I think my anxiety would flip into overdrive and the realization that I would have to re-learn all this crap again, find love again, and babies (with no guarantee of the same babies) would just plain suck. Nope, I guess I’m somewhat happy with right where I am…wanna come play in old-dom with me?

Poop happens...

Yup, it’s true. When you eat, poop comes out and then your belly doesn't hurt. I know this because my 5 year old told me today. I know you are asking yourself why our home finds it necessary to chitty chat about the human bowel movements but the answer is quite simple; we have children and we talk about anything and everything especially fart jokes.

I find that some of the most interesting conversations I've had all day can actually come from the babes of the house. I also find that some of the world’s best stories come from my kids and I learn just as much from them as they do from me. Kids can teach us many things if we are only willing to open our eyes , minds, and hearts to it.
My darling daughter made me breakfast in bed this morning and it was not what was in it that mattered, but the fact that she wanted to give something so much that she woke up at 5:30 to make sure she would catch me in bed. How on earth did a wee little thing think about something like that? She planned well in advance. She teaches me something every day and it isn't always something I want to know. I've learned more about myself and about who I want to be through the eyes of my children.
They show empathy, compassion, leadership, creativity, and so much more.
I think most would like to be able to see the world like babes do. As we grow and change we lose things we once had; some call it innocence but I think it to be clarity.  

A good bra is always underappreciated …

As I was getting my darling children ready for school today I noticed to my horror that I was out of clean, dependable, and good bras. The last thought from the night before runs through my head again “if you wash it now, then hang it up right before bed, you’ll have fresh bras for the day ahead.” Yeah, I said “do it later, time to sleep” which undoubtedly put me in the situation I was in. The thought of an old lady bent over with melon held by nylons dangling from her chest was the mental picture I had in my mind of what I was sure people saw of me without the trusted over-the-shoulder-boulder-holder to keep things up where God had originally put them (but then time happens and so does gravity). It’s agreed that I, just like most people, tend to take things to the worst case scenario. I know that everyone has gone and done something without a bra and so it shouldn’t be a big deal, but have you seen the size of Godzilla….Yup that would be the size of the monsters I hide daily. I did have a fresh pair of “grow some balls lady, or your kids will be late to school. It will be ok, trust me” panties and put the bras in the wash, got in the car, took the kids to school and prayed that I wouldn’t need to get out for anything.  I am happy to report that I did indeed survive and didn’t have to get out so I could save the world from the gravity-challenged boobs today. Came home and dried said bra so that I could finish getting ready for work and go about my day, which by the way, went wonderfully once I had my amazing good bra on. Thank God it wasn’t one of those days where the wires decides to make a sudden appearance and ruin yet another excellent bra day. J

Bra: noun: brassiere.
That’s it? You must be joking!?!
Say it with me: Brassiere. Wow, makes it sound so … so… upscale, classy, sexy, and even a bit luxurious; however, for those of us that know better it would better be described as: torturous, awkward, and, usually for those of larger size, unattractive and uncomfortable.  Now I’m not saying that all are created that way and in fact I wish I had the type of body that could fit into the cute, sexy, thrilling, and classy types, but I don’t.  I do however applaud the makers of exceptional bras, you know the kind (and they vary in style/types). The ones that make you look like you actually have something worth looking at in that department. You have ones that push you up, squeeze you in, make you bigger, and make you go “hell yeah, look at these babies.”

So in conclusion: I need to shop for some new bras and I raise my wine glass to the makers of good bras everywhere. J
 I hope this has put a smile on your face because I have laughed at myself numerous times today… Happy Friday and weekend to you all J

The dieters are on the loose!

As the New Year is starting to unfold and reveal what one might be able to anticipate in the time to come, the dieters come about full force. Those that are still head strong and others that were almost coerced into joining the “new adventure” that almost undoubtedly will end up with someone extremely pissed and another fully aware of what a huge success they were.

Here’s the thing, I’m super-duper happy for those that can go on and reach their goals (for reals! I am happy for them. Jealous even) however I detest how I end up feeling about myself. I either reach some of my goals but realize that my family had to endure the “Crazy-Super Healthy-Neurotic Momma” that I usually become during this time or I don’t reach my goals and become the “depressed-self-loathing Momma” that runs amuck for the next 6 weeks/months.

So this year I am supporting my dieting friends but not allowing the stuff to bring me down. I said allow right? HA! Wish it was that easy but unfortunately it is not. I am at the time of year where either I succeed in my endeavors or I fail miserably and fall into the well of despair. Almost as if I land in the “pit of despair” and they are about to use “the machine” on me to which won’t matter how many years of life they take because I’m already in tears. Anyway, as I was saying that this is the time that usually is a let the horns of glory blare in her triumph moment or a unleash the hounds of hell and let her know how disappointing she is to the whole clan; and I find myself catching the hounds as the howl in my direction and try to change my outlook towards everything. I keep repeating, “I am woman hear me” and that’s usually where I have to mentally change the words. I mean usually you hear the word ROAR immediately, right? Admit it, you said it in your head already, but what I heard is “I am woman, hear me …. Yeah, you can do it later” and I go on about my day eating my cake while looking at my weight loss goals going… “There is always tomorrow. Yeah, you can do it tomorrow. TOMORROW I WILL START IT FOR SURE!”  Knowing all too well, I have no intentions on doing it then either.

They say that if you tell 3 people your goals you will see it through. HAHAHAHA! Oh shit, they were serious?! What a crock of crap. I mean I’ve set goals and told people and not even 3 months later failed. Yes, I am a complete failure. I hope to change that and to start anew. Baby steps of course. So I started a blog again. I know, I know… “Oh my, a blog, whatever will you do?” said drenched in sarcasm.  If I can keep up a blog again and write about what ever (like I used to when I felt like an amazing person)… I will discover the way back from the Land of Failures.