Archive | July, 2010

7 Friends A Mom Needs

20 Jul

A woman needs her friends.  Whether she’s  married, separated or divorced.   There’s a  sanity–or insanity depending on the friend–that comes along with having other empowering women in your life.  I have been blessed to have a diverse range of friends, to whom I wouldn’t be the woman I am today without having them in my life.  They’ve cleaned up puke after a night of 7 Patron shots, stayed up long nights to help with college essays, helped parlay me into a job, listened to my ideas and told to me pursue them–no matter how outlandish I sounded, stood by my side through the important stuff in my life.   But most importantly they encouraged, inspired, and uplifted me.  I thought about my life and made a list of 7 friends every mom should have:

The remember the time we almost got kicked out of college pal–this friend is important because she knows what it means to throw caution to the wind, a true free spirit.  In my world, letting my hair down is a rarity.  I fret over things such as:  public restrooms and changing tables,  I wake up multiple times throughout the night to re-tuck the kids in, I cringe over germs that populate shopping carts and I get quite nauseous over the of thought of  the presence of bodily fluids lurking on movie theater seats (this is a separate post for another day, it will gross you out).  But having a crazy nutso friend, is actually a breath of fresh air in an uptight life.  She will have you doing things you will never speak of, but the two of you will have a few chuckles and constant “I can’t believe I effing did that” moments followed by “Did anyone catch that it camera?  If so, you better not upload it on facebook.  Better yet,  burn it!”.

The fab friend–this friend is equpped with a keen eye for fashion, style and chicness.  She can take something old and make it new.  She can shop high-end and knows where all the sales are.  This pal will not allow you to fall into the mommy jeans and over-sized sweater slump.  And if you know you’re going somewhere with her, you know you have to bring your fashion A game.  The glitz and glamor of this friend will guide you to the light at the end of the fashion faux pas tunnel.  But most importantly, she’s probably got a wardrobe so awesome, she won’t even notice a few missing pieces.

The tell it like it is girlfriend–it may sting, make you upset and even may make you cry; but this friend is there to tell you the truth.  She’s a no holds barred type of woman who will tell you crocs make your feet look like shit and you’re always broke because you can’t budget.  She tells you the things you don’t want to hear and helps snap you back to reality.

The friend with no kids–your kids likely call her Auntie and she spends just enough time around them for them to know her, but to not ask to spend the night at her house.  This friend can offer cool conversation that you once had but sadly went out the door soon as the pregnancy test read positive.  She’s up on the latest music, fashion, movies and gossip.  Her conversation is just what you need to get those annoyingly catchy Gabba Gabba tunes out of your head.  She’s a respite from the craziness of mommyhood.

The intellectual friend–when my brains doesn’t get any intellectual stimulation, I short circuit.  As a defense mechanism my brain issues a warning and I force myself to analyze dumb shit like Sarah Palin quotes.  That’s why having a friend who can enlighten and stimulate your brain is imperative.  Two months after having the twins, I tested my brain age on sweetnesses DS and it was 81–DAMN!  In my defense, many of the questions required mental math, a subject I suck miserably at.  My brain age diagnosis made me realize just how fast I was losing my touch.  I was always the witty one.  The know-it-all.  The one who answered the questions–even if I made them up.  Your intellectual friend is just the right prescription for a decrepit brain.  She’ll whip you into shape, jump start those synapses and get you back to the place you once were–being a smart ass.

The mom like you–This mom knows all about what you’re going through.  She despises Chuck E Cheese just as much as you do but she’s the first one there to help you set up for your 3-year-olds birthday party.  She doesn’t think you have a chemical imbalance when you cry uncontrollably.  She doesn’t judge you’re messy house and crayola-covered walls.  She tells you all about her struggles with weight, sex, depression and you rejoice your life hasn’t gotten that bad help her thorugh her battles just as she has helped you through yours.  She justs gets you and there’s no greater feeling than being understood.

The been there done that friend–When I have a “this is freaking me out, is this normal?” question, she always provides the right answer.  Having a friend like this helps keep my medical bills down because a hypochondriac like me would always be in the ER.  This veteran mom loves to give advice and no matter the time or day, she’s always there to answer your call.  Even if it is to ask if green poop is normal (and apparently it is especially is taking an iron supplement).

There’s a Panty Thief on the Loose

15 Jul

There is clearly a panty thief on the loose and he seems to be jacking me for my granny panties.  Every time I get out of the shower I rummage through my drawer looking for just the right pair.  And every time my selection looks a littler skimpier and sexier.  All of my cotton, nylon and cover your cheeks panties are gone.  Just vanished.  This has been happening for some time now so I decided to investigate.  I questioned my first suspect the other night:

Me:  Hey, have you seen any of my boy shorts, hip huggers or briefs?

The hubs: Naw, I haven’t.  But maybe you should put these on.  (holds up a thread of string that should only be worn when going half on a baby)

Me: *scoffs* You are so predictable.  I don’t want to wear those.  I just bought some new boy shorts the other day.  Are they in the dryer?

(I go to the laundry room and look for my panties.  When I come back, the hubs is nowhere to be found but he has so politely pull out yet another pair of undies–this time with lace and ruffles–and has laid them on the bed)

Me:  (I hunt him down) Look I know you’re doing something with my underwear and I don’t appreciate it…Since when do we tell each other what to wear?  That’s oppression.  You are trying to control me and you know I am a woman who can not be tamed.  (I have to inject my feminist perspective on this)

The hubs: (bewildered)  Babe, I don’t know what you’re talking about.  What reason would I have to get rid of your panties?

(Wha—is he really asking me this question with this dumbfounded look on his face?  As if his initial antics weren’t evidence enough to support my suspicions).  Here’s the problem, I think I set the bar too high and he got spoiled.  In our younger years we would frequently go to VS and splurge on undies.  I won’t lie, there is a sexiness that comes with wearing a naughty pair of panties, and not to mention the sleekness of not having panty lines bulging through your wardrobe.  But after a couple of pregnancies, one episiotomy and a horrible case of hemorrhoids, thong undies were the last thing on my mind.  So I started wearing nice, but no so sexy ones–comfort was my goal.

Apparently this hasn’t fared well with the hubs.  I guess our spontaneous and recent stops to Victoria’s Secret and Fredrick’s of Hollywood have gone under my radar because I always came out of those stores with a new bra or fragrance, but no panties. So when desperate times call for desperate measures the hubs will use any means necessary to get his point across.  Even if it means being a thief in the night and rearranging my panty drawer–though he vehemently denies these accusations.

Rule of Life #1257  Granny panties are one of the top things men hate.  Evidently, panties mean alot to the opposite species, because they’re willing to do the most outlandish things to ensure you wear just the right ones.

Things I Need In My Life

13 Jul

I’m a high maintenance person.  I’m the first to admit that.  People just don’t understand I’m just very very particular:  I like my iced water with cucumbers in it–it takes tap water to the next level.  When I go to the bank, the teller has to count all my money back to me with all the bills facing the same direction otherwise I may get distracted by one wayward bill and lose track of how much money I’m receiving and she may try to get me for $5–take it from a former bank employee, $5 from a few unknowing customers is a great side hustle (so I heard).   I despise foreign debris in the butter–makes me gag.  I hate when people put their chewed up gum on their plate–makes me puke.  And I hate using the bar of soap after it’s fell on the shower floor–so I just stick to liquid body soap.

After getting into a fuss with the hubs this morning about how controlling I am I thought to myself: I am not controlling, I just know exactly what I want and how I want it.  I am my happiest when things are going according to my plan.   All I’m saying is happy wife equals happy life, so I made him this list of the things I need in my life:

Bacon every morning–cooked on the griddle, not too crispy and not too fatty.  Thick and hearty is always good.  *wink wink*

A lifetime supply of Christian Louboutin pumps–and not every shoe with a red sole is a CL.

A strapless bra that can defy the gods of gravity and actually secure my boobs properly and securely.  We may actually be able to get somewhere on time if I don’t have to jump, wiggle and shimmy them to the right place.

Flat abs–If  you would cash in your sneaker collection, I would be able to afford that Lipo and tummy tuck I’ve been waiting 5 years for.

Your undivided attention–when I’m telling you about today’s episode of Wife Swap, I would appreciate it if you’d put down the Xbox stick for just one moment and express a little interest in me.  Spend time with me.  Spend quality effing time with me.

Take care of yourself–don’t go longer than one week without a hair cut, get a mani and pedi and read a book.  I will never be convinced video games exercise your mind.

Take care of me–take out the trash, take the dogs (and the kids) out of the house, organize my closet like you’ve so neatly organized yours, flush the toilet and lower the toilet seat after EACH use.

Watch HGTV with me–you may feel motivated to hang my pictures and sconces that have been boxed up since we moved a year and a half ago.

Teach me sports–You get so frustrated when I ask about Kobe’s field goals but if you would just explain the game to me.  Ok, who am I kidding nix this one.  You know I’m not interested.

Most importantly, keep being you.  Am I asking for too much with my little list?!?

Rule of Life #908 It’s not about sweeping her off her feet, it’s about sweeping the kitchen floor so she can catch up on Real Housewives.

Update:  His response:

Confessions of a Not-So-Perfect Mom

8 Jul

On a number of occasions, I’ve given sweets tylenol pm when she didn’t have a fever but I needed her to get to sleep–sooner rather than later.

My girls think mimosa means “mom juice”.

During my all-day lifetime movie marathons, I give the kids cereal, capri suns, fruit roll ups and crayons to keep them from bothering me.

I taught my 6-year-old how to change diapers, fill sippy cups and warm food in the microwave so I can sleep in on the weekends.

I catch up on “business” while the kids are running wild and destroying the house.  When I say business that really means I’m on Twitter.

I play Yo Gabba Gabba to distract the kids when the hubs in I are in the bedroom having sex.

On a few occasions, I’ve used sweets allowance money to order pizza.

Twice, I didn’t send sweets to school because she had a midday hair appointment.

I’ve parked in handicap parking not because I’m disabled but because I didn’t feel like carrying two car seats from the back of the parking lot.

I tell businesses that my 4ft 2in 6-year-old is actually 3 so she can be admitted for free.

I substitute Juicy Juice and Pediasure for actual fruit and vegetable consumption.

I still have, but never paid for sweets school pictures from last year.

I enjoy throwing caution to the wind and making up my own parenting rules as I go along.  Who’s nominating me for the mother of the year award this year?

Rule of Life #412 Being a perfect mom is so overrated.  Bad is the new good.

Mission: Sexy Body Back

6 Jul

I started working out today–the first time in months!  No seriously, I don’t even remember my login code to the Y it’s been that long.  This go round, I’m just kinda winging it.  No specific diet or cardio plan, just know I need to lose 35 pounds by the end of the year.  So as a baptism by fire one of my buddies and I did the 1,000 stadium stairs at WSU.  Let me just say my workout buddy this morning has already lost 30 pounds!!  Talk about on it!!  Keep up the good work KW!

So right now, I’m high on endorphins and feel really motivated.  Shit, I worked out, tweeted a bit, wrote a blog post and thought about cooking breakfast.  I’m trying to get it all in before I come crashing down.  But I know myself, and I know the laziness will creep up on me.  Tomorrow, the rigor mortis will set in my legs.  I will need a wheel chair to help me get around the house.  I will definitely not be picking up, bending over down or doing any other strenuous activity when not in workout mode.

So follow me on my journey to getting my sexy back.  Drop me a line of inspiration and encouragement because this will not be an easy feat.  And to my buddies who are committed with me–I know we can do it.  Long gone will be the days of diurex, laxatives, girdles and spanx.  I have semi confidence in us! Cheers to Happy Working Out!!

Rule of Life #820 Getting to a size healthy has many positive outcomes, one being you’ll be able to see your goodies without any tugging or pulling.

Happy Independence Day

4 Jul

There’s just an unspoken happiness that comes with holidays.  Great food, lots of fun and most importantly hilarious family.  As I get ready to visit my in-laws, I get this warm fuzzy giggly feeling to know that I am about in indulge in some dysfunctional comedy of pay-per-view proportions.  From the outside, it may seem like an episode from COPS, but for me, it’s just another family get together.  Don’t get me wrong, I love my in-laws–as country and unrefined funny as they may be–I just can’t help to make fun of them.  Besides, laughter is food for the soul right?  Well my soul is about to overdose on some good ‘ol laughter.  So get the margarita mix ready (because the hubs has an aunt who gets drunk off the mix alone–no alcohol–just mix), power up the camera and grab a seat.  The Beverly Hillbillies have nothing on the Stuarts from Arkansas.

Rule of life #425 The highest form of flattery is to write a blog post about how much you love your family!